Carolyn Arnold - McKinley 05 - Family is Murder

by Carolyn Arnold

  “We have everything taken care of.” Sean pressed his lips into a smile.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re my best girl’s daughter. I’d be glad to help.”

  Sara looked at him again, back to Elisha. “Well, if you insist. We met with quite a few housekeepers but haven’t made a decision yet. Only if it won’t be a bother.”

  “No bother at all.” Elisha buried her expression in the lip of the glass.

  “I can’t believe you said she could spend the night here.” Sean was pacing their bedroom in his pajamas.

  “You’re going to have me kick my mother’s friend out on the street?”

  He came to her, seriousness etched into his features.

  She started laughing.

  “What is so funny?”

  “You. You must think I’ve lost it completely. That woman isn’t my mother’s friend. She’s the killer.”

  Sean waved his hands in the air. “Even better. You invited a killer to spend the night, and how am I supposed to sleep, exactly?”

  “You know the saying, keep your friends close but your enemies closer?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, if we call in Jimmy, he’ll get guys down here and there goes our chance of saving Leslie. We play along with this lady and get it out of her ourselves. We’ll call Jimmy in once we’ve got our proof. We’ll get her prints from something and have him run them.”

  “That will take too long.”

  “Hmm. You’re probably right. Well, I didn’t notice her wearing any jewelry missing a diamond. Although, I couldn’t see her earlobes for her hair. But did you notice how she introduced herself as Leslie’s friend? If Leslie sent her, and they were as close as she claims, she’d have referred to her as my mother.”

  “I noticed that. You’re quite smooth, darling.”

  “Yes, I have my moments,” she conceded. “Add to that I said that Leslie had to hurry back for a trial and Elisha ran with it. Leslie is a doctor. There wouldn’t be any trials.”

  “Yes, I caught that. Very smart.”

  She let his compliment sit, her mind focused on the outworking of recent events. “Now, somehow, the killer found out about the job opening, about the reception party. She didn’t get that information out of Leslie.”

  “Your mother, you mean?”

  “I don’t know anymore. I find it hard to call her mother.” She sensed her insides go dark but let the feelings pass. She had to remain focused.

  “I noticed she drove here, though. It’s not the rental car. Of course, that would be too obvious.”

  “Maybe we should at least get the plates run by Jimmy and see what comes back.”

  “If we call Jimmy again, he’ll kill us.”

  “You might be right. It’s frustrating being on the outside, isn’t it?” She wasn’t happy about relinquishing control. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll see if I can get to her wallet and check her ID.”

  “We could be dead by then.”

  She chuckled. “By morning? Are you all right?”

  “No, I’m not. This woman could be a cold-hearted killer and you’re willing to risk our lives.”

  “We can take care of ourselves, darling.” She moved in close to him. “You know that.” She nibbled on his ear and air rushed over his teeth before he turned to take her mouth.

  She pulled back.

  “You are a tease, Mrs. McKinley.”

  She smiled at him and curled her finger, luring him to bed.

  “By the way, Adam called back and left a message. He said he has more information for us and hopes you are all right.”

  “I’ll be better after I’ve gone to bed. I do assume you want to join me.”

  “And, you’re sure we locked the door?”

  “Yes, Sean.”

  He gave one look toward the door before getting into bed with her.

  Unanswered Questions

  THE SMELL OF FRESHLY BREWED coffee managed to creep down the long hallway to their bedroom. Sara had been awake for the last hour, watching Sean sleep—an unusual switch, but she felt responsible for having this woman in their home. While a small part of her entertained Elisha’s innocence, her intuition shut it down. This woman was a killer. She had killed Angela, done who-knows-what with Leslie, and now she had shown up to carry out her original plan, which was to get close to them and, somehow, to their money. Add to that, she was either delusional or they were keeping up appearances rather well.

  Sara had gotten up a few times to check the lock on the bedroom door and each time found relief that it was locked, just the way they had it before going to sleep. She’d dozed off at some point and the dreams she had were messed up, resulting in a lot of tossing and turning. There were jumbled images of Leslie, of her mother, Jeannie, and her father, Leon. Sean would pop up here and there, speaking of his love and that she had to guard her heart. The last dream had morphed into a nightmare, placing Sean’s panicked face in hers, screaming, “There’s a killer in the house.”

  That last dream had come at five a.m. and was the one that startled her awake and made it impossible to doze off again.

  She nudged Sean’s shoulder. He let out a staggered snore and came to.

  “Time to get up,” she said.

  “Sara? What time is it?”

  She found irony in how their roles had truly reversed this morning.

  “Time to get up.”

  Her words made it through and instead of slowly opening his eyes, or yawning, he bolted into a seated position and turned to her. “Are you okay? Is everything—”

  She smiled at him. “We’re alive, darling.”

  He narrowed his eyes at her mockery and it caused her to giggle.

  “She’s up and has made coffee.” Sara inhaled deeply. “Do you smell it?”

  He moved in close to her and tickled her sides.

  “Stop it!”

  “What do you think I am—hard of smelling?”

  He kept attacking her sides, her fits of laughter stealing her breath.

  “Shh,” he said, pulling his hands off her and placing a finger to his lips.

  “Sean and Sara?” Elisha’s voice made it through their door. “Are you up?”

  “You could say that,” Sean whispered to Sara.

  This time she shushed him. He grinned in response.

  “We’ll be out in a minute,” Sara called out.

  “All right. I put coffee on.”

  Sara heard the taps of footsteps moving back toward the kitchen.

  “Now what are we supposed to do?” Sara asked.

  “We have to keep playing this cool and carry on like we don’t suspect anything.”

  “Yes, I suppose. If she wanted us dead, we already would be.”

  “Well, you did let her into our home.”

  “Let it go. We need her close so we can get to Leslie. We have to make friends with her.”

  “Make friends with a killer?”

  She nodded. “And maybe you could distract her long enough for me to hunt down her purse and check her ID. At least we’d know for certain if she is who she says she is. It seems her talent is impersonation, so it wouldn’t surprise me if Elisha is really someone else.”

  “Good idea. Then I’ll find a way to call Jimmy and have him pull a background…if he takes the call. He seemed pretty adamant about us staying out of it.”

  “But surely if he knew the situation we are in. Either way, we’re going to have to be careful, darling.”

  “We will be, and we’ll save Leslie while we’re at it.”

  She couldn’t help but notice he referred to her by name again and not as her mother. Her mind went to Adam. “We need to call Adam back today. I need to know for sure.”

  He ran a hand down her hair. “Let’s do that before we go out there.”

  “But it’s just after six in the morning.”

  “Your point? He’ll be up already, and if he’s not, well, he’s paid to be awake.” Sean smiled at her before reaching for his cell
on the nightstand. He put it on speaker.

  “Sean, I tried—”

  “I know. What did you find out?”

  “Well, Sara hung up before I finished.”

  “Sorry about that,” Sara said.

  “Oh, good morning, Sara.”

  Sara smiled at Sean, but didn’t say anything.

  Adam continued. “There wasn’t a Leslie Summers in Augusta, Maine but there was a Leslie Abbott.”

  “Abbott? Send the picture to us.”

  “Yes, of course. Right after we hang up here. But, Sara, I have a copy of your birth record, and there is something else you’re going to want to see.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Sara? Sean?” Elisha knocked on the door.

  “Send us everything you have. We’ve got to go,” Sean said.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “If you don’t hear back from us by nine o’clock, I want you to call this number I’m going to give you. Understand?”

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Sara?” Elisha called out again.

  “Yes, sorry, Elisha, we’ll be right there. We’re just getting dressed.”

  Sean took the phone off speaker, gave him Jimmy Voigt’s number, and then hung up.

  Sean found Elisha in the kitchen, wiping down the counters. She was fully dressed for the day in the clothes she wore the night before. Bacon was frying in a pan, hash was in another.

  She flashed him a smile, the kind that sent shivers through him. His cop instincts told him the truth. This woman was a killer.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of making breakfast.” Elisha took the tongs and flipped the bacon. “Turkey? I was hoping for the real thing.”

  Sean sat on one of the stools at the counter. His eyes not leaving Elisha and his mind alert. “Pork bacon is high in fat. It’s not good for you.”

  Elisha glimpsed up from the pan. “That’s why you stay in such great shape.”

  Was this woman making a pass at him now?

  “It’s one of the reasons.”

  “Oh, where are my manners? I’ll pour you a cup of coffee.” She turned to the opposite counter where the coffee maker was and got him a mug. She didn’t look over a shoulder, but said, “Where’s Sara?”

  “She’s having a shower.”

  “Ah, she’s a beautiful girl.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  Carrying on banter with a killer wasn’t Sean’s idea of a good morning. His heart skipped beats periodically in concern over Sara. He just had to keep Elisha entertained enough that she wouldn’t feel the need to go hunt her down.

  It was a tricky line to hold. He had to be stimulating enough, conversation-wise, but he couldn’t start prying with personal questions about where she was from and so on, or she might clue in to the fact they were suspicious of her.

  Sara’s heart was thumping in her chest, faster than the flapping wings of a hummingbird. It wasn’t just the thought of snooping around for the purse belonging to a killer, it was the news Adam had delivered—and what was left unsaid. If Leslie Abbot wasn’t her mother, why not just say so? And what else, besides her birth record, did she need to see? The fact that Elisha came for them, impatience was building. She had some sort of a schedule in mind and the time for her to act was soon approaching.

  “Please, please,” Sara whispered, pleading to the Universe, as she tiptoed down the hall to the guest room they had put Elisha in last night.

  The moment she stepped inside, she went cold. There was that floral overture. The same one that was at Leslie’s hotel room and Angela’s apartment. Why hadn’t she smelled it before now? It must have been because it had been subdued when Elisha—or whoever she was—sat waiting outside for them.

  She had to hurry. There was not even a trace of doubt that the woman in the kitchen with Sean was a killer.

  She hurried to look over the room and the attached en suite.

  Where was the purse?

  She remembered the black satchel that had been over Elisha’s shoulder.

  Seconds later, she had to acknowledge the truth. It wasn’t here.

  Sean placed his cell phone beside his coffee mug. He wanted it handy in case they needed back-up immediately. They had thrown caution to the wind when they took this lady in, but Sara’s statement had been compelling and held truth—the only reason he went along with it. Until they knew where Leslie was they couldn’t risk things. They also knew Elisha was armed, and until they could flush out the weapon, they had to tread carefully.

  Seconds went by in silence. Elisha flipped around the bacon and hash.

  He lifted his cup for a sip but hesitated before doing so. He looked around at the counters. Elisha wasn’t drinking one. Did she not drink coffee or was there something in this? It was when his eyes surveyed the kitchen that they came to rest on a black purse tucked into a corner.

  Sara had been buying up clothing and accessories at a rapid rate, but he could never envision her with this one. It didn’t look designer, and his mind traced back to when they arrived home.

  His heart lowered when the revelation struck.

  “I’ll go check on Sara and see how she’s coming along.” He gave her a smile as he left the stool.

  She returned it but he felt her eyes on his back as he walked away. He suppressed the urge to pick up his speed.

  Caller’s Identity

  WHEN SEAN KNEW HE WAS out of Elisha’s line of sight, he moved into a slow jog in the direction of the guest room. Sara was coming out into the hallway and they bumped into each other. Her mouth opened like she was going to let out a squeal, but he placed a hand over it and stifled it in time.

  He led her, without a word, into their bedroom. Once behind the locked door he said, “Her purse is downstairs.”

  “Her gun’s probably in there too. I’m so happy you’re okay. I never would have forgiven myself.”

  He cupped her face. “I’m fine.”

  She nodded.

  “We’ve got to figure out a way to get this woman to talk. We can’t just wait things out,” he said.

  “I know. Maybe we should have called Jimmy right away.”

  “We probably should have.”

  “Well, do it now. Sean, I have a really bad feeling.”

  “I hate to say it, but you’re not the only one.” He picked up the land phone. “The line is dead.”

  “She must have unplugged the main one in the living area.”

  He went into his pocket for his cell phone. “Oh crap.”

  “Sean, what is it?”

  “My phone’s in the kitchen. Quick, where’s yours?”

  He thought she might cry again, but realized when she spoke it was tears of adrenaline misting her eyes. “My purse, with my cell, is in the front entry.”

  Something wasn’t right. She could sense it. The couple was splitting up, trying to use a type of diversion tactic but it wasn’t going to work. Her eyes were set with laser-precision targeting now. She would attain what she had come for. Her dreams had strengthened her…she realized that killing wasn’t so foreign to her after all.

  She turned off the burners, while thanking Angela for starting her down the path to good fortune. If it hadn’t been for the drunken maid applicant spewing off about her opportunity with the McKinleys, she would have carried on in life, not realizing her true calling. She had always believed she was meant to be wealthy, but life had squashed the fulfillment so many times she had almost given up on its realization. But now that she was given the golden goose, she was impatient. She didn’t want to milk them for years, nor did she have the precious time to do so. They were on to her.

  Her eyes went from the ruined breakfast to the ringing cell phone on the counter.

  She peeked down the hallway. Neither Sean nor Sara were coming for it.

  She picked up and read the caller’s ID, Jimmy Voigt.

  “Hello.”

  There was a second’s pause on the other end. Jimmy, whoev
er he was, didn’t expect to hear a woman’s voice.

  “This Sara?”

  “No, I’m sorry. Sean and Sara are not available right now.” Her eyes traced to her satchel and she walked over to it.

  “Who is this?”

  She plastered on the sweetest voice she could muster. “Oh, this is her mother’s best friend, Elisha.”

  “Sorry to say I never heard of ya.”

  “That’s fine. What can I do for you, Jimmy, is it? I saw it on the ID.” She didn’t have time for this ridiculous conversation. Role playing wasn’t her thing, killing was. She finally had it together. She smiled at her epiphany.

  There were a few seconds of silence. Did she detect suspicion? She was becoming paranoid.

  “Just let them know I called, would you.”

  She handled the gun she had pulled from her purse. The silencer was still screwed on and it was loaded. “Certainly, Jimmy. Good-bye now.”

  She hung up the phone but she couldn’t let this sit. There was more to this phone call. It had her bristling, each hair on her neck standing up.

  She strained to hear anything, but wherever Sean and Sara were, there was no sound coming to her ears. She was still alone. Then, the irony struck, if they showed up in the kitchen, she’d just kill them.

  Her spirit jumped but was calmed by the realization that she couldn’t kill them—yet. If she did, she could kiss all that money good-bye, and that wasn’t an option.

  She opened up the contact information for Jimmy Voigt. There were two numbers listed there. The one he had just called from and another one. Should she take the risk?

  Her hands were trembling. She knew the McKinleys were ex-cops. She shouldn’t have gotten herself involved with this. She was crazy. Who did she think she was?

  The thoughts of confidence continued to collide with ones of incompetence.

  She went ahead and dialed the other number. If Jimmy answered there, she’d have to say something because the ID would give her away. But she’d wing it.

  It was answered on the second ring. “Albany Police Depart—”

  She hung up.