“That would be perfect. After you ask your questions, you can go through my wife’s belongings. Maybe you’ll find a clue the police and I overlooked.”
They walked silently together until they parted ways in front of her condo. As she entered the path leading to her front door, she spotted the flames on her welcome mat. Fear spurred her into action. She raced forward and found a paper bag untwisting as fire danced over its surface. The unmistakable odor of doggie dung saturated the air.
The vet ran up the path. “You would think Harry could come up with something more original.”
The birdseed was original enough.
Andi rushed inside her condo and grabbed a vase filled with daisies. Making haste, she pulled out the flowers and then dumped the water onto the burning bag.
The vet managed to jump out of the splash zone just as the water hit the sack and pavement. “You’re awfully calm for someone whose home could have gone up in flames.”
“I refuse to get upset.” She watched the water spread over the welcome mat as the now-open bag exposed its gift. “That’s what Harry wants—for me to get mad and make a scene.”
“I heard he has it out for you.”
“Now you know it isn’t just a rumor. Just a minute.” She dripped the daisies back inside the vase and added water from the kitchen sink. After grabbing her notebook off the kitchen counter, along with her tape recorder, she locked her front door.
The vet pointed to the wet dog mess. “Try bleach. I had to use it on my garage floor after Toto paid a visit. Those pet cleaners don’t get rid of the odor. Bleach was the only thing that worked.”
“The strange odor I smelled in your garage the day we met—”
“Was dog feces mixed with bleach and floral fabric softener. My wife hates the smell of bleach, so I poured fabric softener on top to mask the odor. It helped a little.”
So much for thinking the killer used the bleach to clean a crime scene. The only crime covered up was Toto’s dump and run.
“Tell me about your wife.” Andi pressed the “Record” button on her mini tape recorder, officially beginning her interview as they headed toward Doctor Owen’s condo.
“Tess.” A gentle smile touched his lips. “We met three years ago. She lived next door to me in an apartment complex. One day she had a flat tire, and I helped her out. The rest is history.”
“Until now.”
“Correct.” He suddenly stopped walking. “I’m worried. And not just because there’s a psycho killer after the board.” Tension and fear filled the air. “My wife suffers from depression. I’ve tried to persuade her to get help, but so far she’s refused.”
“How do you know it’s depression?” Andi stepped closer, hoping the recorder caught every word. “Was this confirmed by a doctor?”
He eyed the device and hesitated. Resigned to continue, he spoke as he walked. “There were signs. Before we got married, she seemed carefree and happy¸ but there were other moments when she remained quiet. I didn’t think anything of it at first. After the wedding, those quiet moments grew longer and more frequent. Our relationship changed. I couldn’t get through to her.”
“Did she go out? See friends?” Andi asked, feeling like an intruder into his life.
“Tess never went anywhere, except to those insufferable board meetings,” he said, his footsteps growing louder, as if each step grew heavier. “She quit her job. Stopped seeing her college friends. Whenever I came home for lunch, I’d find her back in bed. She had other . . . issues, too.”
Andi walked faster to catch up with him. “Issues?”
“She said she hated her life and blamed me for her problems. The delightful, beautiful lady I married changed into an angry, spiteful woman whenever we were alone together.”
Andi stepped onto the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street, glad to see his condo up ahead. She wanted to set the recorder down where she could be sure she was getting every word of the conversation. “I heard Tess and Bernice were close.”
“Bernice adored Tess. But then Bernice was an angry, controlling woman. She fed my wife’s new, slanted view of the world. I guess you could say they were friends, but they only spent time together working for the HOA.”
“How well did Tess get along with the other board members?”
“Fine. Bernice appointed Tess to the board position. I think they’re all kindred spirits, except for Reverend Nichols. He’s a good man. He tries to persuade the others to ‘love thy neighbor,’ but has gotten few results for his efforts.” The vet’s pace slowed as they stepped onto the cement path leading to his condo. “Tess is quiet when she’s at board meetings, so most people think she’s shy. They have no idea how sick she truly is. They have no idea how much hate is raging beneath that calm exterior.”
He reached into his pocket for the keys.
She could see the tears building in his eyes. “Doctor Owens, what do you think happened to your wife?”
“I think my wife got angry and left me.”
Andi remembered him telling the policeman they had an argument over him playing golf at the country club. She watched him open the door, then followed him inside.
He closed the door behind her and let his hand linger on the knob. “For the past few months, I have been concerned that she might be suffering from more than depression. I’ve heard her talking to herself.”
“I talk to myself.”
“Excessively?”
“I don’t think so.”
Did Tess suffer from a split personality? Or was this the rambling of a man who wanted to think his wife had to be sick to leave him?
Andi turned to face the spotless living room. The vet’s expensive taste wasn’t restricted to his clothing. She could swear she’d seen this same room, with its rich mahogany wood, in an Ethan Allen furniture catalog. The Waterford crystal arranged on the bar and the books of Impressionist painters conspicuously displayed on the glass coffee table completed the picture of wealth and sophistication. She wondered if it was all for show. If she were wealthy, she would own a spacious house—not a condo in Euphoria.
“I need you to find her—fast. I’m afraid of what she might do if she doesn’t get help. I should have forced her to go to a doctor. I know that, but I kept hoping she’d turn back into the old Tess.”
“I understand. Mind if I take a quick look around while we talk?”
“Not at all. Where do you want to start?”
“The bedroom.”
He flinched as if the memory of their most intimate moments was too much to bear.
“Her dresser.”
Stiffening his spine, and most likely his resolve to be strong, he led the way.
A moment later, Andi ran her hands beneath the empty underwear drawers, searching for anything that might be secured there with tape. She’d seen that particular hiding place in a movie.
“Doctor Owens, does your wife usually take all of her undergarments when she visits her mother?”
“No. That’s why I think she left me for good this time.”
Andi checked the jewelry box. Empty. She ran her hands beneath and behind the drawers, dresser, mattress, and the portraits on the wall. Nothing. She tried not to look at the sadness in the doctor’s eyes.
What if I find his wife and the woman refuses to come home? What does he expect me to do? Call the police and have her committed? Was that even possible?
“Have you talked to the police about your wife’s condition?”
He lowered his eyes. “No. I don’t have any proof. She’s never been diagnosed.”
Andi could only nod. Finding nothing useful in the closet or under the bed, she entered the bathroom. “Was Tess taking any medications?”
“Birth control.”
Andi opened the medicine cabinet and discovered her pills. Flipping open the container, she found over a dozen pastel-colored tablets. Women didn’t usually take off without their medication. “Did you know she left these behind?”
&nbs
p; The vet took the package and stared at its contents for a long, silent moment. Finally, he spoke. “This is her way of stabbing me in the heart.”
“I don’t understand.”
He sat on the edge of the tub, still staring at the pills. “I want kids. She wanted to wait.” He gestured with the package. “Leaving the pills means she’s going off them, but not to have children with me.”
Andi sat next to him. “Sounds like she has a flair for the dramatic.”
He nodded, then placed his head in his hands.
She forced herself not to pat his back to comfort him. He was a client. She was a detective. Well, sort of. “Let’s keep looking. Maybe we’ll find another clue.”
He lifted his head, stared straight ahead, and then stood. “Where next?”
“Does she have a desk?”
An hour later they had gone through every inch of the condo. She didn’t find anything the police might have overlooked. Not that she’d expected to, but she had hoped she would. If she was going to help her sister, she wanted to be useful.
“Do you have a picture of your wife I can use for the investigation?”
He opened his wallet and slid out a photo of the two of them on a beach. “It was taken on our honeymoon in the Bahamas.”
The woman smiling for the camera wore a black, one-piece bathing suit. Her blonde locks flowed over her shoulders. Her pale-blue eyes reflected the ocean. She looked happy. Too bad she had so many problems. Andi followed the vet into the kitchen and then stopped beside a closed door.
“May I see the garage?”
He appeared startled. “Uh, sure.”
She opened the door and the strong stench of floral bleach almost knocked her off her feet.
“Sorry,” he said. “I had to clean up after Toto again this morning. He paid me another visit.” The vet pushed the button to open the garage door. “I should air this room out.”
“Where’s the dog now?”
“Home with Reverend Nichols.”
Andi eyed the chest-style freezer. In horror films, freezers always held a dead body. She pictured the killer surprising Tess while she stood in the open garage. He would have knocked her out and then shoved her limp remains into the freezer.
Was Tess hidden inside this very freezer?
She had to know. Needing to be alone, she turned to the vet. “Can I trouble you for a glass of water?”
“Sure.” He eyed her suspiciously, but didn’t say anything else.
As soon as he shut the door, she summoned the courage to touch the lid of the white, oversize appliance. “You can do this.” She had to work fast. He wouldn’t be gone long, and she had to know. “You can do this. You know you can. One, two, three—pull.”
Prepared to scream and run out of the garage as fast as her feet would carry her, Andi yanked the lid open. She peeked with one open eye, then the other and found . . . dead . . . fish. Breaded, deep-fried, store-bought fish, along with an assortment of TV dinners and sausage links.
“Why are you looking in there?” Doctor Owens’s deep voice resonated from the door.
She jumped and almost wet her pants. “I . . . I wondered what you kept in a freezer this big. You don’t have a large family.”
“Once a month we shop at one of those discount stores where you buy in bulk. One minute I’m eating samples, and the next I’m buying sausage by the ton. Tess says I’m a discount addict.”
Andi remembered Toto dragging sausage links down the street. Doctor Owens must have dropped them onto the cement and not realized it. She couldn’t picture a vet giving a dog that much sausage, if any.
“I can relate.” She eased the lid down. “I won’t have to shop for paper towels again until I’m sixty.”
He handed her the glass of water. “Are you going to the board meeting tonight?”
“It hasn’t been a month.”
“The board called an emergency meeting. They’re going to appoint me to the board to fill Bernice’s slot.”
“You’re going to be one of them?”
He nodded with a grim expression. “It’s temporary. I have no desire to do this on a full-time basis. I’m hoping they’ll pass along any information about the killer they discover. I’ll do anything to locate my wife.”
The rules required the board to give twenty-four-hour notice of any meetings. She intended to add this to the list of violations committed by Harry.
She caught the look of unbearable pain in the vet’s eyes. Her heart ached for him.
“We’ll do everything possible to find your wife.”
NINE
Luke entered the library, shook off the creepy feeling the jungle mural gave him, and marched down the hall to the meeting room. He dreaded every one of the meetings he attended on behalf of the Euphoria Homeowners’ Association.
He pushed the door open and, at first glance, was taken aback. Andi stood in the center aisle with Meg. A dozen of her neighbors, clad in red “Anti-Board” T-shirts, greeted her with smiles, thumbs-up signs, and pats on the back. The heat of a blush rushed up her neck and over her cheeks. Obviously embarrassed by the attention, she eased down to the front row, where Roxie waited.
The anti-board was growing—and so would the trouble. Luke located his usual seat at the table up front and turned when he heard the heavy click of male shoes. Harry and Valerie approached, both with smug expressions. The association president scowled at Andi and the anti-board before handing her two envelopes. The trouble came faster than Luke had expected.
He ambled over and Andi held up both envelopes for him to read. VIOLATION had been typed on one and FINE had been typed on the other.
“Harry, you’re a weasel!” She ripped up both envelopes and threw the pieces into the air. “You pay your own blasted fine! You dumped that trash and birdseed on my porch!”
Harry stepped closer. “Prove it, sweetheart.”
Luke stepped between them and the pungent odor of Harry’s onion-bacon-cheeseburger breath struck him like a weapon. “Harry . . .”
The president of the association narrowed his eyes into snakelike slits. “Don’t ‘Harry’ me. You are one call away from losing this account—and probably your job.”
“Luke,” Andi said, “This isn’t your problem.” She narrowed her eyes to mimic Harry. “The rules say there have to be two violation letters and a third offense before a fine can be assessed. You’ve littered my porch only twice.”
Valerie slapped a French-manicured hand to her lips. “Whoops. I forgot to give you this.” She handed Andi a picture of her messy porch dated Friday morning, another dated Saturday morning, and finally, a picture of a clean porch, except for two leaves, dated an hour ago. She pointed to the last picture. “That there is the third offense needed to fine you.”
“You’re fining me for two leaves on the porch?”
Harry smirked victoriously. “The rules say you have to keep your porch clean. They don’t define clean, that’s my job. Leaves don’t belong on your porch, therefore—”
“Your porch is not clean,” Valerie finished for him. She lifted her snooty nose as if Andi’s presence soiled the air.
“Enough.” Luke rubbed his chin, forcing himself to remain calm and professional. “Harry, this war is only going to escalate. Nobody will win in the end, especially the community.”
“I’ll win. You can count on it,” Harry snapped. His stare bore into Andi. “I don’t care what your anti-board throws my way, sweet cakes, because I’m not going to back off. Just the opposite. You won’t be able to get out of here fast enough.”
Harry placed his arm around Valerie’s waist and escorted her to the table up front. There was no sign of Paul, her soon-to-be ex-husband. So much for thinking a brush with death and a life with Valerie would put Harry in a better, more forgiving mood. They didn’t.
“I’m sorry.” Luke knew Andi couldn’t care less if he was sorry. She wanted—no, needed—results. “With your permission, I’ll take the picture with the leaves to
our company lawyer. I sincerely doubt Harry can get away with declaring a porch dirty because of two leaves.”
Uncertainty flickered through her expression. “Why didn’t you do that for Meg? She told me Harry sent her a violation for a porch ‘dirtied’ by one leaf.”
“This is the first I’m hearing about it. He might have sent the letter before I took over the account.”
What else had Harry gotten away with over the years?
Luke was sure Harry would send creative violation letters only to neighbors who didn’t have the resources to take him to court. He preyed on the weak.
“Perhaps you didn’t receive a copy of the violation letter because it was part of his effort to embezzle money.” Andi looked at Harry as though he was the slime clinging to an algae-infested pool. “We can both agree he has stepped up his efforts to get rid of me. You’re assuming it’s because of the anti-board. What if the real reason is he heard I’m investigating the murder?”
If Harry was the killer, Andi had a lot more to worry about than violation letters.
Luke leaned in close. “If it’s all right with you, I’ll drop by your place after the meeting. I would like to talk to you.” He needed to impress upon her the importance of never being alone. “In the meantime, try to stay out of trouble.”
“Who? Me?” She feigned innocence.
“Yeah, you.” Grinning, Luke strode off to the front table for the start of the meeting. From his vantage point, he scanned his surroundings. Mr. Decker, the cowboy, sat in the third row, looking as malcontent as ever.
He could be the killer.
Roxie cackled in the front row. He had always considered her eccentric.
What if she’s crazy? She could be the killer.
His line of vision fell on Doctor Owens.
What if the anti-board was right about Tess? What if she witnessed Bernice’s murder and ran off to hide? What if her husband killed Bernice because of her influence over Tess?
Next, he slanted a glance Valerie’s way.
What if Bernice had tried to stop the budding romance between Valerie and Harry? Everyone knew Valerie had her sights set on Harry’s money. Could she be the killer? Then there was Reverend Nichols. The police suspected him.
Euphoria Lane Page 13
