Give Murder A Hand: Lizzie. Book 2 (The Westport Mysteries)

by Beth Prentice

  Just then Riley stuck his head in the doorway, pulling a clean shirt over his head. Both Danny and I were rewarded with a glorious view of his naked abdomen.

  “Hey Lizzie, I’m just running down to the hardware store. I’ll be back in about half an hour. Will you be okay?”

  “Sure will.” I smiled and looked at Danny. I noticed the glazed look in his eye as he smiled at Riley. Once he was out of earshot, Danny looked at me.

  “Okay, I retract my last statement.”

  “Of course you do,” I commented, laughing. “If it’s up to me, the honeymoon period will never end.”

  Danny sighed. “How do you ever get any work done?” he asked, seriously.

  I laughed. “Yeah, some days it’s really difficult to concentrate when I know he’s downstairs doing manly stuff.” We sat silently for a moment, thinking our own private thoughts about Riley. Only when Danny’s phone beeped, signaling a text message, did he give a final sigh and stood.

  “I have to go. Andrew’s warned me not to be late.”

  “Okay well, have fun,” I said, following Danny to the door. Opening it, I looked out at the crowd of people mingling around my fence.

  “What do they think they are going to see?” I asked.

  “News is obviously quiet in Westport. Either that or they are really bored.”

  * * *

  Later that night the nightmares began again.

  It was a cold clear night and I stood in the backyard, looking into the open grave as Joe Woods looked back at me. I felt relieved he was finally dead. Only just as I smiled, he floated out of the grave and moved towards me, his shiny blade glistening in the moonlight. I screamed and turned to run, but before I got too far I found myself back in my bed with him standing over me.

  The now familiar fear ran through my veins, as I pushed past him and ran for the door, my only hope for survival. I could feel his breath on my neck. Slamming me into the back of the door, his fingers dug into my arm as he attempted to pull me close. Grabbing at the handle, I wrenched the door open and ran for the stairs.

  I heard my blood-curdling scream. Tripping on the top stair, I fell to my knees as I slid to the bottom, my stalker right behind me. Pain shot through my knee as I dragged myself to my feet and moved to the front door, praying I could open it and run to freedom. It was locked.

  My heart pounded loudly in my ears as desperation and fear consumed me.

  It was my screams that woke me, and I found myself standing on my doormat, face to face with a terrified looking Riley.

  “Lizzie. It’s okay,” he said, shaking. “You were just dreaming.” I looked at him and fell to my knees as the sobbing started. He sat next to me and pulled me in close, the heat from his body surrounding me as I moved into his arms, the fear from the dream still lingering.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice shaky. “It was just a dream.”

  I held on tight, unable to speak. Riley allowed me to stay there until the sobbing stopped. Only then did he tilt my head back, move my hair from my face and kiss my forehead. As his fingers wiped my tears, the dream lifted and a feeling of safety took its place.

  The room was only lit from the streetlight outside, but it gave enough light that I could see the torture on his face. My heart squeezed.

  “You really need to talk to someone about it,” he said.

  “I’m ... I’m sure the dreams will stop,” I whispered.

  “It’s been eight months, Lizzie. You can’t go on like this forever. Please.”

  “I’ll be okay,” I said, snuggling closer. If I could just get a little bit closer to him, I’m sure I could push the memory of the dream into the back of my mind. True, the To Be Sorted bin back there was probably overflowing, hence the nightmares, but I really didn’t want to open that box.

  “He can’t hurt you anymore, so what are you afraid of?” he asked, placing his hand under my chin and tilting it to face him.

  I thought about his question. What I was afraid of was, once I opened that box, I may never be able to close it again. “I’ll think about it,” I said.

  “Promise me you will.”

  “I promise I’ll think about it.”

  “No. You have to promise to get some help. I hate that you have these nightmares.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to upset you,” I said quietly.

  “I don’t care about that. I just hate that it scares you.” He gently kissed my forehead, and squeezed me tight. I let out a breath I’d been holding and thought about what he had said.

  “Will you come with me?” I asked.

  “Sure.” I felt him smile in the darkness as the relief washed over him.

  He helped me to my feet, ready to go back to bed. As we turned, he flipped the hallway light on and we both stopped dead, neither of us daring to move ... because in front of us, in droplets sprayed across the wall, was blood.

  I felt fear grab at me and held on tight to Riley. I heard the clock ticking off the seconds, as I held my breath and wildly looked around.

  Riley stepped in front of me protectively and moved to it.

  He picked up a hammer he’d left lying on the floor and handed it to me. “Stay here,” he commanded. “I’m going to look around.”

  I took the hammer and looked back at him, the fear from the dream returning.

  “No way, I’m not staying here on my own.”

  Riley sighed. He knew better than to argue with me. “Fine, but stay close.”

  No need to tell me twice. I grabbed the back of his boxers and stayed on his heels. We systematically checked every door and window in the house, only to find they were all securely locked.

  Returning to the hall, Riley let out the breath he’d held, and moved closer to the blood.

  I shuddered. “How the hell did it get there?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I was having a really bad week. I already had nightmares to deal with, but now I had a dead body found in my backyard, and blood dripping down my walls.

  “I don’t know,” said Riley, his shoulders dropping.

  “Can we sleep at your house for the rest of the night?” Riley looked at the clock on the wall. It read two thirty.

  “Please?” I gave Riley puppy dog eyes, secretly praying he would say yes.

  “Sure,” he said, sighing.

  Once we were back in bed at his house, I snuggled my face into his chest and after a few minutes the gentle rise and fall of his chest lulled me back to sleep, all thoughts of the blood pushed into the back of my mind. There’s nothing nicer than snuggling someone you love after a bad night.

  Chapter Three

  I leaned against Molly’s shiny black Lexus and looked at her.

  Today had turned into another scorcher, but even though I had sweat running down my neck and between my breasts, Molly’s skin just had a slight sheen to it. I tugged at the hem of my t-shirt in an attempt to stop it sticking to me.

  “Molly, can we wait in the car with the air conditioning on, please?”

  “No. I’m saving money and I don’t want to waste fuel,” she explained. I looked at her, my eyebrows raised. Molly had never been known to save money. I was just about to ask her if she actually had heat stroke when the door to the doctors’ surgery opened and out walked Grandma Mabel, pushing her red walker, her purple patent handbag precisely placed on the seat in front of her.

  “Oh, thank God,” muttered Molly, moving away from the car door and towards Grandma.

  “Not so fast, girlie,” snapped Grandma. “I’m not done yet.” I watched as she swished her false teeth around, contemplating her next move. “I have to have a blood test done.”

  “Oh okay,” I said standing next to her. “You can get that done next door,” I said indicating towards the doorway very conveniently located next to the doctors. Molly took the relevant paperwork off Grandma and stepped towards it.

  “Hang on a minute,” said Grandma. “I need to fix my hair.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with
your hair,” said Molly. I looked at Grandma’s neat rows of purple tinted curls and agreed with Molly.

  “You look fine, Grandma,” I said nodding.

  “Yeah well, I need better than fine. I just saw Barry Crosby go in there and he’s a cutie. I need to look my best if I want to turn his head.”

  “First of all, you are eighty-two, when are you going to stop looking at men?” asked Molly. “And second, Barry Crosby is married. I remember Mum going on about it at dinner once.”

  “Well,” answered Grandma, “I’ll stop looking when I’m dead. Which is exactly what his wife is. I read her obituary in the paper yesterday.”

  “If his wife just died he’s hardly going to be looking for another one so soon,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “You don’t know that. And anyways, he may just file me in his memory bank for a later date. A good looking man like him won’t stay single for too long, and when you’re my age you got to stay on top of things like that. The number of eligible men is dwindling fast. Women live longer than men, you know. Competition’s fierce,” said Grandma with a wistful sigh, looking at Barry through the glass window of the pathologist. I followed her gaze. Barry Crosby stood with a hunched back, his nose hair visible even from this distance and his pants tied somewhere around his armpits.

  “Well, I guess you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do, Grandma,” said Molly, her nose crinkling. She mouthed ‘yuck’ as she turned to me and giggled.

  “Yep, wish me luck. Not that I need it of course,” said Grandma, smoothing her blue polyester dress, taking the paperwork from Molly and pushing her walker towards the pathologist.

  “That’s going to be us one day,” I said to Molly, thinking that loss of eye sight with age was probably a good thing.

  “Puh-lease ... I would never wear polyester.”

  We watched in awe as Grandma chatted to Mr. Crosby and then made her way to where she had to give blood.

  “Actually Molly, do you mind if I just pop into the doctor’s. I need to make an appointment.”

  “You’ve been standing here all this time and now you remember?”

  “Yeah, sorry about that.” I’d realized Riley was right and the memory of the night my stalker caught up with me wouldn’t stay buried amongst all the other crap I had buried at the back of my mind. Go figure.

  “Well don’t be long,” said Molly as her phone beeped, signaling a message. She pulled it from her bag, read the screen and looked around the car park, her face suddenly animated with excitement. Obviously her message was a good one. She looked back at me. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

  “Nothing,” I replied. “Just thinking I might stay here and check out the scenery instead. I can always phone through an appointment.”

  Her sigh could be heard a mile away. I grinned.

  “Lizzie, you’re such a pain,” she muttered as she turned her back and crossed the car park. I giggled and moved into the doctor’s surgery, looking back out at her whilst I waited my turn. She walked between two cars and stopped, talking to someone in a white Toyota Camry. I could tell by her smile that whoever it was, he was male. And obviously cute, because I had never seen Molly flick her hair as much as she did at that moment. I stood on my tippy toes trying get a better look, but he sat in the car and I couldn’t see anything. I wondered if it was Matt.

  My attention was one hundred percent on Molly and her attention was one hundred percent on the occupant of that car, so neither of us noticed Grandma Mabel exit the pathologist.

  “Ahh, Lizzie,” said the receptionist, “I think you should go and see if Mabel’s okay.”

  “What?” I asked, turning my attention to her.

  “Your grandma,” she said pointing outside the glass. “I think something’s wrong.” I followed her finger and saw Grandma arguing with a woman, who in all honesty looked perplexed. I quickly moved to open the door to see what was going on.

  “Call the police!” yelled Grandma, to anyone that was listening. “This woman is trying to steal my granddaughter’s car!”

  The woman in question turned to me as I pushed through the surgery door, her face bright red. “I’m not. Honestly, this is my car,” she said pointing to the black SUV Grandma was trying to get into. I looked at Grandma struggling to get into the back seat.

  “Women like you should be locked up,” yelled Grandma, as a small crowd gathered to see what was going on. “My granddaughter is hard working and pays for things and you shouldn’t go around stealing it. Anyway, I know your mother—God rest her soul— and she’d be disgusted to know this is what you’re up to.” Grandma crossed her arms over her chest in a ‘don’t mess with me’ stance as Barry Crosby walked past.

  “Everything all right, Mabel?” he asked, stopping to help. I quickly moved towards them.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said to the accused woman. As I looked into her red face I realized it was Sharon Williams, a girl I had gone to school with.

  “Lizzie, you really need to keep your grandmother under control,” she huffed, her embarrassment now turning to anger she directed at me.

  “Oh, as if I have any chance of doing that,” I replied on a sigh.

  “No, everything is not alright, Barry,” said Grandma, turning her watery eyes to Barry. “I’ve had a very traumatic few minutes.” Her hand shook as she put it to her heart. “But I did manage to stop a thief. I just don’t know what the world is coming to these days when an old, frail woman has to become a crime fighter.”

  “Now, now Mabel. You’re not old. And frail is not a word I would use to describe you. I would say you are fearless.” He smiled, his false teeth shining brightly. He obviously used his Polident regularly.

  “Oh Barry,” giggled Grandma, all signs of her ordeal now gone.

  “Umm, sorry to interrupt, Grandma, but you need to get out of the car,” I said, stopping this interaction before I had any chance of over hearing something I could never un-hear.

  “I’m alright now, love,” she said. “Maybe we could go home though so that I can rest a bit.”

  “Yeah sure, Grandma, but we need to go in Molly’s car.”

  “This is Molly’s car,” she stated.

  “No. It’s not. Molly’s is over there,” I said pointing to the black SUV parked right next door.

  Grandma looked through the windows to the car parked next to the one she was presently sitting in.

  “Well, I’ll be buggered,” she said. “Fancy that.”

  * * *

  Grandma had moved in with Mum a few years ago after a she has set the oven on fire. True, only her pension money got burnt as apparently the oven was the safest place to hide money, but Mum felt after that she couldn’t be trusted to live alone.

  Molly sighed all the way back to Mum’s. By the time we got there, I thought she might be slightly light-headed from all the oxygen she forced out between her gritted teeth.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I asked quietly. Grandma’s gentle snores drifted my way, alerting me to the fact that she had nodded off and I didn’t want to wake her.

  “Nothing,” she snapped. Clearly it was something. I looked at her, my eyebrows raised. She sighed again. “It’s just that whenever I meet a really nice guy, this family has to come along and spoil it.”

  Now I should be offended as I was a part of this family, but I got her point.

  “The right man won’t be bothered by your family,” I said philosophically. “Look at Riley. He has stuck with me looking my absolute worst, he’s the main witness to me embarrassing myself 101 ways, he’s been railroaded by Mum whenever Auntie M’s around, and he’s still here,” I explained.

  “Yeah. I’m still wondering if that man is actually human,” mused Molly, indicating and turning the car into Mum’s street. Grandma’s internal GPS stirred her awake.

  “Who is he anyway?” she asked.

  “Riley. We’re talking about Riley,” answered Molly, pulling the car into Mum’s driveway and parking behind her silver Mazda
.

  “No you weren’t. I may be old but I’m not stupid.” I too was curious to know the answer to Grandma’s question.

  “It’s nobody.”

  “I bet it was that guy you were talking to at the doctor’s. The one with the nice head of hair.”

  I looked at Molly and noticed her ears had gone a light shade of pink. Grandma was sharper than any of us gave her credit for.

  “So ... was it Matt?” I asked, smiling.

  “It was no one you need to worry about,” she snapped.

  “It’s all right, Molly. He gave me a wink as I got into the car,” explained Grandma. “He’ll fit right in with us lot.”

  “If he ever calls me again,” sulked Molly.

  “You should ask him out and wear that black dress you bought last week. It shows a lot of leg that dress.”

  “I don’t think so, Grandma but thanks for the advice.”

  “Well can I borrow it then? I think Barry Crosby is going to ask me out and I’ll need something to give me the edge over Vera Cartwright. She’s got big boobies and Barry likes big boobies.”

  “How do you know that?” I asked.

  “Because his poor dead wife had massive ones. She had a hump on her back because of the weight of ‘em,” she explained. “So can I borrow it then?” she asked Molly, her watery eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

  Thankfully, Mum opened Grandma’s car door before Molly had to reply.

  * * *

  After we dropped Grandma home and made sure she was tucked safely under Mum’s wing, we both let out a sigh of relief. Honestly, I love my grandma—in fact, there were times when I wished I was just a little bit more like her—but most of the time she exhausted me. It appeared Molly shared this sentiment. I opened my bag and retrieved a pack of chewing gum. “Want some?” I asked Molly, offering her the packet.

  “No thanks.”

  “Suit yourself,” I replied, popping a piece in my mouth

  “Did you book your doctor’s appointment?” asked Molly, her brow furrowing.