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Gossip Can Be Murder

Page 18

by Connie Shelton


  I knew a moment later. Ahead, in a wide spot in the road, a tiny light caught my attention.

  “Joanne!” I stage-whispered. “Hold back. Get out of sight and be quiet.” I pointed to the light. “If things start to get ugly, head back to the lobby as fast as you can. I’ve called the police already. Wait for them.”

  It was good advice and I should have taken it myself, but I couldn’t let David take Linda away. That small dome light told me he was about to force the two women into a vehicle and then they’d be gone. I stepped to the soft grass at the dark edge of the drive and approached carefully, reaching for the Beretta’s grip.

  I got to within twenty yards when I heard their voices. I tiptoed closer, trying to make out the words. David held a gun on Linda; he jerked his head toward the Suburban, indicating for her to get inside. She stood her ground, her stocky body and legs-apart stance telling him she wouldn’t go willingly. I felt proud of her.

  Trudie stood by David’s side, an eager look on her face. What the hell was she thinking? Trying to curry favor with the man who’d earlier left her for dead in a storage closet? Or going along with her partner? A confusion of possibilities rushed into my mind but I put them aside. Right now I had to get Linda out of this.

  I watched David’s body language. He held the gun casually, like a man who wasn’t used to handling a weapon. Although he waved it at Linda, his grip didn’t look firm. Could I disarm him without his getting a shot off first?

  Trudie presented an unknown. She might turn on David, but I doubted it. At best, she might cave. At worst, she could easily turn on me. I edged closer, fifteen yards away now. I held the Beretta in front of me and flicked off the safety.

  David’s back presented an easy target to me. Despite the meager light, I had the advantage of close proximity and surprise. I could take him out.

  Ron had asked me, when he began teaching me to shoot, whether I’d be able to kill a person if the situation arose. I didn’t know then and I still didn’t know. But I knew I’d be making that decision within the next few seconds. My hand wavered then steadied. He’d killed once. If he became more aggressive with Linda or if he turned on me, I could do it.

  I went over the steps in my mind, back at the target range. My hands went automatically to my two-handed grip, the gun was hot, safety off. I lined up the sights, gauging distance and angle.

  Linda’s gaze flickered toward me.

  Oh, god, this might be the moment.

  David didn’t catch it. Linda returned her attention to his face, refusing to let her focus come back to me. Good girl.

  “I said, get in the car!” he shouted. That time it came through loud and clear. “Both of you!” He shook Trudie off like a mosquito.

  This time Linda didn’t resist. She climbed in and slid across to the far side of the big vehicle.

  Trudie turned to David, a pleading look on her face. “I want to ride up front with you,” she whined.

  “Get in the b—” David looked at her but she was looking at me.

  Oh shit. This is it.

  He shoved her aside and turned his gun toward me. His frantic gaze darted about, trying to figure out whether I was alone. I couldn’t afford to wait until he got off the first shot. I aimed high, hoping I hadn’t misread him. My shot went right where I placed it, over his head, to the right of him, far into the forest.

  Trudie screamed and hit the ground.

  David’s face crumpled in an almost comical way. His arms fell to his sides.

  “Drop the gun! Way out there, in front of the car!” My voice came out much firmer than I’d anticipated and he obeyed. “Trudie! Face down on the ground, spread those arms!” She, too, followed instructions. I liked this.

  “Linda, get out of the car and grab his gun. Come over here by me.” Her white faced peered out of the dimly lit vehicle and she looked pretty shaky. “It’s okay,” I assured her. She did as I asked.

  “David, down on the ground too. Over there.” I waved the Beretta toward the front quarter of the Suburban. “Flat on your face, arms out.”

  “You can’t—”

  “Watch me.” I re-aimed my gun and squinted to align the sights.

  “You’ll be in trouble . . . I’m a lawyer,” he blustered.

  “Good point.” I fired another shot over his head, pleased to see a wet spot form on the front of his pants. He dropped to the ground with a whimper.

  Chapter 30

  I’d just about let loose a few choice words for the Santa Fe Police Department when a cruiser rolled up the drive. I slipped my two spent casings into one pocket and the Beretta back under my jacket.

  “Lay the gun on the ground and just tell your story as it was,” I advised Linda.

  By the time David whined about being fired upon, for which he had no proof, and Trudie babbled on with loads of incriminating testimony about how they’d planned to be together and how she would stick by David and visit him in the pen, the two officers were beginning to look harried. Linda pointed out David’s gun on the ground and explained how he’d used it to abduct her from Trudie’s room. I gave them minimal information and suggested that they check with Detective Gallegos in the morning. Meanwhile, they agreed that both David and Trudie should be held on suspicion until then.

  The questions about my gun were starting to get a little tricky when my cell phone rang. I raised an eyebrow to the officer who’d been questioning me and he nodded assent to answer it.

  “Where are you?” Drake asked. “You were supposed to be here an hour ago.” He sounded worried.

  “Little delay,” I said. “I’m with the police now.”

  The officer beside me had heard Drake’s voice clearly. Luckily, my husband knew better than to get into details over the phone.

  “So, when will that be?” he asked, lowering his voice. I got the distinct feeling there was something important he wasn’t telling me.

  “I’m not sure. Soon?” I looked at the officer who was closing his notepad. “I hope?” He shook his head. “Maybe not.”

  “Call me before you leave Santa Fe.” With that, he hung up.

  I managed to stay composed until I’d given the officer my card, all my phone numbers, and my planned itinerary for the next two days. I confess that I fudged a little on the importance of my reasons for getting to Albuquerque, but it did gain me a smidgen of leeway.

  It occurred to me that I might report some inside information to Ron and Drake. I turned back to the officer. “So, will David be in jail for a few days?”

  He wagged his head in a somewhat hopeless gesture. “Don’t bet on it. This guy has connections. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s posted bond before I finish the paperwork tonight.”

  That was discouraging.

  Linda was still in the middle of giving her statement when I left the driveway and made my way back to the resort. Gerald and Joanne, plus a small gathering of others from the conference, wanted all the juicy details but I put them off.

  I managed to stay composed through all of that but as I gathered my bags and started to leave the room, I lost it. I set everything down and gave in to the shakes and the tears. I could have killed a man tonight.

  More frightening was the fact that I knew I would have if he’d harmed Linda or turned on me. I’d been damn lucky that he’d shown that flicker of hesitation, that moment that told me he was more afraid of me than I was of him. He’d killed his own wife—I still wasn’t sure of all the reasons why—but against an armed opponent he’d backed down. Some people are like that.

  I allowed myself a full ten minutes of self-indulgent blubbering. Then I washed my face and brushed my hair and composed my face.

  I was rummaging in my purse for keys when Linda came in. We gave each other a tired stare and I felt the rims of my eyes prickle again. “I need to get going,” I said.

  “Nope. I don’t want you out on the road,” she said in her firmest doctorly voice.

  “Linda, I already told Drake—”

&nbs
p; “I don’t care. It’s an hour-long drive and you’re too upset.”

  “I’m not—” But the anger in my voice made her point. I was too upset.

  “Stay here tonight. Calm down. Let me give you a sedative.”

  Was the answer to everything found in a pill bottle? “No drugs,” I insisted. “I’ll be better off if I just . . .” I didn’t know exactly what it would take.

  “Okay then. Let’s go to the meditation session. It’s still going, and we could tiptoe in quietly.”

  I just couldn’t envision sitting in a big crowd and managing not to scream in frustration, especially with Celeus Light in the room. My teeth gritted at the very idea.

  “Linda, I just can’t . . .” I started to say that I couldn’t stand the phony leader, but managed to couch it in softer wording. She looked disappointed, but didn’t argue. “You go. I’ll be fine here in the room,” I promised.

  She didn’t buy it. I would bolt the minute she left, and she knew it.

  “Let’s go have a bowl of soup or something light,” she said. “I’m serious about you staying here tonight.”

  I wanted to pop out with a reminder that she’s not my mother, a you’re-not-the-boss-of-me comment, but I held it. “Let me call Drake first. He thinks I’m going to be on the road any minute.”

  She went into the bathroom while I placed the call. I speed dialed and asked him to give me a little more time. Despite the lateness of the hour I was still determined to break out of this place yet tonight.

  Using the room phone I ordered two bowls of soup. Linda was right about that. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten and the lack of energy was dragging me down. I let her do the talking while we ate but something about the conversation with Drake kept nagging at me. I got the idea that there was still something he wasn’t telling me, but didn’t press it. Eventually, and when I wasn’t quite so drained, I’d figure out all of it.

  Chapter 31

  I awoke to the sensuous feeling of my body against my own sheets, the smell of Drake’s aftershave lingering on the pillowcase next to mine. Unfortunately, he was not beside me.

  Noises from the kitchen pointed me in that direction and I belted my cozy terry robe around me as I went.

  “Hey there,” he said, backing me against the fridge and kissing me. He tasted like blueberry muffins. Sensing my momentary distraction he pointed toward the kitchen table. My favorite mug, steaming with coffee, and a plate with two bakery muffins sat at my usual place. “Better have that so you can wake up. You were up way past your bedtime last night.”

  No kidding. It had been close to two a.m. when I drove in and I’d barely kissed him and fallen into bed before going unconscious.

  He topped off his own mug and rearranged the napkins in the holder. Set the salt and pepper shakers straight for the third time.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked once I’d downed one of the muffins and realized that he was working his way up to telling me something.

  “Manuel Salazar, one of the mechanics who worked on Mike Walters’ ship? He died yesterday. Pretty sure it was suicide.”

  “What? How—?”

  “I don’t know details. Rick Valdez got the call just as we were leaving the deposition yesterday.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me last night?”

  He shrugged. “It was late and you had a lot on your mind.”

  True, but he certainly could have interrupted me for this. I watched his fingers trace circles on the table for a minute.

  “Hon, you’re not somehow blaming yourself for this, are you?”

  Another shrug.

  “You can’t have caused the guy to be that depressed. I mean, surely . . .”

  “Maybe not depressed. Maybe he panicked. Maybe he thought we were about to haul him into court and accuse him of causing the accident. He was real nervous when Ron and I talked to him.”

  “But—” I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

  He exhaled loudly and stood up. “I know. I can’t really believe that I caused it but still—it’s bothering me.”

  I walked over to where he stood staring out the window into the back yard. I put my arms around him and laid my cheek against the back of his shirt. Stroked his chest with my hands.

  “Okay, your turn.” He turned around to face me.

  “My turn?”

  “To spill the beans. There was a message on the home phone from a Detective Gallegos in Santa Fe,” he said.

  “What! Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “What happened last night with David Ratwill?” he asked. “And why did Gallegos want you to know he’s out on bond. Out, why?”

  “Let’s make some breakfast and I’ll fill you in.” I had a feeling bacon and eggs would be a necessity.

  I scrambled eggs and made them into sandwiches and carried two plates to the living room. Curled into one corner of the sofa I gave Drake time to reappear, freshly showered and wearing a soft pair of flannels and a T-shirt, before I launched into the full recount of the week’s events. From the threat on the massage table to my bump on the head in the parking lot, I went over it all. He stopped me once in awhile to clarify some minor point, but mainly he let me talk. He actually let out a little snicker when I told him about David wetting his pants as the shot went over his head.

  “And David Ratwill, the same attorney who’s been ragging me over the helicopter crash, probably killed his own wife and is now out on bond?” He was pacing the living room by now, unable to relax and just enjoy my little tale.

  I nodded and drained the last of my coffee while Rusty cleaned up the scraps of toast and egg from my plate.

  “I’m going to have a hard time not punching him out when I see him, you know,” he told me when he finally finished pacing.

  “And what good is that going to do?” I set the mug on the coffee table. “I don’t know for a fact that it was David who knocked me out or who locked up Trudie. In fact, I don’t see how it could be, now that I look back at it. Even if he’d raced out of your deposition, he couldn’t have made it back to Santa Fe and up to Casa de Tranquilidad in under an hour. Someone else must have done that little bit of dirty work.”

  He stopped with a jolt. “But David left the deposition early. I wasn’t told why, but the other attorney from his firm handled the questioning all afternoon. David could have easily been back in Santa Fe.”

  Now I felt myself go still inside. All along, I’d felt that David was the one who pushed Rita, but until he held Linda at gunpoint I never quite fully believed that he’d also come after me and after Trudie. I’d been sure that her fantasies about David were just that. Now I had to rethink that whole idea.

  “Did Gallegos want me to call him back?” I asked.

  “Didn’t really say. The message is still on the machine if you want to go listen.”

  I checked it and wrote down the number he gave, which matched that of the police station, from his business card.

  “I’ve got to go out to the airport and re-examine that helicopter wreckage,” Drake said. “Do you want to come along?”

  “Unless you think I know something about the engine that you don’t, I better stay here and return Gallegos’s call.”

  As it turned out, I decided to get my thoughts together before talking to the Santa Fe cop. Last night’s events were still eating at me. First thing I did was to retrieve the memory card with the documents I’d stolen off Stanworthy’s computer. I couldn’t think of him as Celeus Light once I was away from the insulated atmosphere at Casa de Tranquilidad. The guy was a businessman, no matter what his followers might want to think, and I had to believe the meeting with David Ratwill that I’d accidentally witnessed days ago at McDonalds was going to be key to some kind of connection with Rita.

  How could it not be?

  Rita works in David’s office for several years before their split-up. She’s institutionalized for awhile—manipulated by David—then shows up a couple of years later working at Light’s
place as a yoga instructor. At the same time, Trudie the now-out-of-work nurse just happens to enroll in the Lightness conference? And Trudie has a huge infatuation with David. It was all too much.

  I ruminated over all this as the pages of the document printed out. The money transfers offshore were huge—I added up the various amounts shown on Stanworthy’s spreadsheets. Setting that aside for the moment, I took out my little pocket spiral notebook and a large yellow pad. I transferred the few notes from the spiral and filled in the gaps, detailing everything in sequence, from the warning I’d received in the massage room to my own knocked-unconscious episode in the parking lot, to the showdown in the woods. David’s peeping episode into Trudie’s window was curious, to say the least, and I had to wonder at her insistence that it had been David she was meeting when she was lured to the locker room and stuffed into the closet. Later, when I caught up with them in the woods, she hadn’t been afraid of David; she’d actually been hanging all over him as though the two of them planned to run away together.

  And Rita. What truly was the story there?

  If David had pushed his wife over the wall to her death, why on earth had he come back to Casa de Tranquilidad several more times? Logic would seem to tell me that a killer would stay away. But then, they always say that the murderer returns to the scene of the crime. My head felt fuzzy, trying to sort it all out.

  The phone rang just then and I realized it was noon when the caller turned out to be Drake. He asked if I had planned on his coming back for lunch and seemed relieved to have the extra time without having to come home. Said he was finding the evidence he needed and would probably be there a couple more hours.

  Drake’s call reminded me that I hadn’t reached Gallegos in Santa Fe yet. But I wasn’t quite ready to talk to him. The fact that he hadn’t been able to hold David Ratwill, even a day, bothered me as surely as all the strange links in the case.

  My notes were piling up and I felt like the answer had to be here somewhere. I just couldn’t figure out where.

 

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