by Marc Timms
The guard opened the door and walked in without knocking. He looked at Arthur. “Time for lunch. Let’s go.”
Arthur stood slowly, nodded at Johanna, and shuffled out in front of the guard. Johanna sat in the room by herself for a few minutes, wondering what she should do. Would there be questions? Would they want to debrief and get her ideas on what Arthur had meant? Or was she just supposed to go home now that she’d met with Thomas’s father?
Finally, she stood up and walked out into the hallway. Dempsey was in the hallway, waiting for her. “So, what do you think?” he asked, handing her a bottle of water. Johanna wondered if he had noticed that this was the brand that she usually drank—as if you had to be picky about water—or if it was a good guess.
“I think that when he was talking about other people that he more or less told the truth. The other heirs need money. Yes. The real Thomas isn’t in the picture anymore. He made a life choice to walk away.” Johanna thought about this again and wondered if it would be worth the effort to locate the real Thomas and find out where he was at particular times. She knew that she would be frustrated if someone else was impersonating her to get some cash.
“However, when he was talking about himself, he was less than honest. So when he was talking about taking Penny, he fudged his answers. If he didn’t take her, he knows who did. That could make him a target if the other person is the killer.”
“We still haven’t found Donley, if you’re wondering. We documented him shooting at you, and then he’s gone.”
“Just like Thomas,” she said.
Dempsey shrugged. “Thomas wanted away from his father. Not the same thing as being on the run for taking a potshot at two women.”
“Not the real Thomas—the one that we met,” she corrected him. “He disappeared. We have to ask if he went of his own volition, or was he taken, perhaps by Donley, especially if Donley, Arthur, and the hitman were working together.”
“That’s a possibility,” he said. “We need a better way to distinguish the two men. Real and fake.”
Johanna had an odd notion that he was trying to move the subject away from the two fugitives, and she wondered why. Did he know where they were, or did he have a strong suspicion? She could see him trying to keep her safe by not telling her all that the police knew.
“So anything else?” he added. “Did I miss something?”
Johanna felt as if she had let him down. The man had not told her what she needed to know. The information had been weak at best. He’d hinted and played games, but she hadn’t learned enough.
“Not really,” she said, trying not to share all of her feelings. “If I think of anything, I’ll let you know.”
“Great,” he said, with enthusiasm.
Maybe Marnie was right about the detective. She’d suspected that he wanted to get Thomas out of the way so that he could ask her out. His eagerness just now made her wonder if she’d been wrong about his intentions.
Chapter 2
Johanna had a text message on her phone when she left the police station. She had not wanted to share with the police, but Thomas had sent her a message. She had not recalled giving him her number, but he had it, and he’d used it.
The only problem was that she wasn’t sure it was the fake Thomas she had met and talked to. In all honesty, she had no way of telling if this was a killer who was luring her into danger or merely a dinner date with someone she’d been interested in.
She pondered her choices. She could ignore it, but that would not get anyone closer to the solution of who had killed Jessica, Carolyn, and kidnapped Penny. She could inform the police, but Detective Dempsey was already convinced that she was far too close to this case. After all, she had been invited to talk to Arthur Tremblay, who was a suspect in all of the murders to date. That wasn’t helpful.
Much as she hated to admit it, she would have to accept the invitation and meet Thomas, if it was the same man. Perhaps he had more information on what had happened to Jessica or could point to a clue where Ryan Donley, Arthur’s supposed collaborator, had hidden.
She sighed and tried to decide on something to wear. She felt bad for worrying about her looks at a time like this, but on the off chance that Thomas was innocent of all charges, she still enjoyed his company.
Johanna finally decided on a black dress that she always felt good in. She wore flats with the ensemble, mainly because she always found herself on the run with Thomas. No reason to wear a pair of heels to go sprint after a murderer.
They had agreed to meet at a restaurant. Johanna arrived early and asked for an indoor table. She was taking precautions this time. After spending time in the hospital, she was certain that Thomas would agree with her decision.
She knew she would be the first to arrive, and she ordered a glass of Pinot Grigio. Johanna made a promise to herself that this would be the only one, as she needed her wits about her tonight.
She checked her phone, and it was now fifteen minutes after the hour. Johanna grew anxious. She had worried about Thomas being in public where he was fair game to anyone coming by. Had he met with some attempt on his life?
Johanna decided to finish her glass of wine and then leave. She also had no desire to be a sitting duck, where the killers could easily find her—or perhaps to get her out of her apartment, wanting to search for something they thought she had, or to set a trap for her upon her return from dinner.
She had taken her last sip of wine and shifted to stand up when Thomas arrived. He looked a bit winded, as he took big gulps of air, as he made his way across the dining room.
“Is everything okay?” she asked, as he sat down.
Thomas nodded. “Absolutely. Just traffic and me running late. You look incredible. How are you?”
Johanna looked him over, wondering if he was playing a part or if he was genuinely interested in her. She couldn’t tell. Johanna was uncomfortable with eating any food he had come near, fearing that he might tamper with it before she ate it.
“I’m fine. I saw your dad today,” she said, not wanting to prolong the small talk anymore.
One eyebrow went up. “You did? He’s in prison. How did you manage that?”
She went through the story, stopping to explain why she was at the police station and what his father had shared with her.
Thomas rubbed his chin a few times as if he, too, was pondering something. Was he going to confess or point the finger at someone? “I would not believe everything he says,” Thomas said slowly. “Typically, there’s a kernel of truth in what he says, but so much of it is a web of lies. It’s hard to parse that and find that truth amid the lies.”
“Any thoughts on what the truth might be?”
Thomas grinned. “I think he was telling the truth in that he didn’t run me over—or ask someone else to do it. Given that I’m the only relative who talks to him, Christmas would be very lonely without me.”
Johanna sighed. “That still leaves a lot of ground for him to cover. Murders, arson, kidnapping dogs, and more.”
“And Carolyn is really dead?” Thomas asked.
For a moment, Johanna felt a pang. Was she jealous of the dead woman? Thomas was still asking about her, even after her death. Did that put a roadblock in any future relationship he might want to start?
“Yes, Marnie and I both saw it.” Johanna was blunt in her word choices. She had come here for answers, and she found herself flirting with the man, even though he might have tried to kill her. What was wrong with her?”
“Well, I’m sure you’re wondering why I asked you to dinner?”
Johanna felt another pang. That type of sentence didn’t coincide with a profession of affection. He had ulterior motives instead.
“And?” she said a moment later, as the silence prolonged.
“Well, of course, I wanted to see you. Then I wanted to thank you for all you did for me. You took care of me, the insurance matters, and put up with Carolyn.”
“A friend does that for others,” Johan
na said, nearly choking on the word.
“Well, I wanted to be sure that I thanked you properly. A friend does that as well.” He stressed the word, and Johanna wasn’t sure if he had stressed it to make sure that she understood they would only be friends, or if he was playing off her use of the word.
Johanna sat there. She wanted to know what was going on here, and she hadn’t received any answers yet.
The food came, and Johanna dug in. After a long day of eating little, the pasta was heavenly, due to the lengthy stay at the police station and the limited time before meeting Thomas here.
She tried to eat daintily, but at the same time, her stomach was demanding wolflike devouring of her meal. She ate quickly and took a sip of water to wash it down. She’d long since finished the wine, and while she’d debated another glass, Johanna knew that she needed her wits about her. Thomas seemed to be less than forthcoming, and she didn’t know why. He could just be a nervous man on a date, but he could also well know more than he was telling about the murders and other crimes. That’s what concerned Johanna most of all.
He gave her a smile and continued to work on his meal.
Since she was finished, Johanna asked. “So what happened to you after you left the hospital? You just disappeared for several days, and then you called.”
He laughed and put a hand over his mouth, to not spit his food. “Yeah, things were getting a little too real for me. I woke up, I heard that Carolyn had been hit, and I heard about Arthur. I needed to hide out so I wasn’t next on the list of people to be run over. Plus, I really didn’t want to have a run-in with my dad.”
“But he wasn’t really your dad, was he?” Johanna asked. From the photos she’d seen in the home, Arthur had appeared to be the real deal, and the man who was supposed to be Thomas was not in any of the photos.
He flushed. “Yeah, that’s true. Got me there.”
“So, what is your name?” Johanna prompted.
“Let’s just continue to call me Thomas, okay? It works for the moment.” He looked off into the distance, not meeting her glance.
“Okay, Thomas. What’s the game then?”
“I’m not sure I follow you.”
“Arthur knows you’re not the real thing. He lets you stick around. Carolyn identifies you, but I think that was more because part of your face was bandaged. Deanna and the brood hadn’t seen you in years, so they just assumed that if the bed had your name on it, then that must be you. Why come here and try to claim a part of the estate when you’re not the real thing?”
He choked on the mouthful of wine and nearly spit it out.
Johanna was pleased to see that she’d gotten his attention. If she was going to learn what was going on, some straight questions—and some straight answers—had to be given.
“Look, I will grant you that I’m not who I said I was. My given name was not Thomas, and I’m not Arthur’s kid. But there are other ways to be an heir to the estate and not be the person I said I was. So you’ll just have to take my story at face value.”
Johanna tried to parse what he’d said, but she couldn’t with the wine, the excellent food, and the attractive man across from her. She needed a quiet place to sit and think, but that would have to come after the date.
“Fine, I’ll take you at your word for the moment. So why is someone trying to kill you?”
Thomas sighed. “Look, I’m going to tell you part of the story, but at the moment, I’ve been advised not to talk too much about this—not until the estate is settled.”
Johanna at least knew now that his shenanigans were related to the estate and the money coming from the estate. That was helpful. “So tell me.”
“That’s not really my story to tell. I mean, it is in part, but at the same time, I can’t share it with you yet. There will come a time when I can. I hope you understand.”
Johanna had no idea what to make of the mishmash of words. She could tell that he had a secret related to the estate, and it was dangerous—and private. She would definitely need to figure this out later.
“Okay, I guess. So why is someone trying to kill you, and why did someone kill Carolyn?” Johanna asked.
“The reason why I was targeted has to do with the secret I mentioned. I’m aware of it, and I’ve talked to the police as well. They’re mindful of it, but they’re not to share it with others or the press unless it’s critical to the case against the killer.”
Johanna nodded. At least that part made sense. The secret was related to the estate that the killer wanted. Thomas apparently had a way of getting money out of Jessica’s estate, and others resented that—enough to kill him. She wondered what scheme he had in mind to extort the money from that family.
Was she looking at two killers? The one who was out for Thomas, and the one who was out for Carolyn and Penny?
Plus, she had nearly forgotten that she’d witnessed two deaths in the park, watching a murderer snuff the life out of two women in their cars. How could that have slipped her mind? It just went to tell her how much was going on in her brain.
“Arthur didn’t say anything about the murder of Carolyn. I don’t think that it’s related to the scheme to lay claim to the estate.”
“It could be,” Thomas said after a moment’s thought. “This Carolyn knew who I was—or at least strongly suspected as much. She’d made a few comments that led me to believe that she’d solved the riddle, and now she wanted a piece of the estate to keep quiet.”
“And Arthur? He knew too.”
Thomas laughed. “You don’t have a clue who I am then. Yeah, he definitely knew.”
“And what about the real Thomas? Is he likely to show up and take his part of the estate? Do you know where he is?”
His eyes grew wide. “Yes, I know where he is, and I doubt very much that he’ll be coming forward any time soon. It just wouldn’t work.”
Johanna looked at him, but his face had grown impassive. She wondered what he’d meant by that. Perhaps the real Thomas was in jail, or worse, maybe he was dead.
Thomas didn’t say anything else, and they drank their postmeal coffee in relative silence. Johanna couldn’t get a good read on this guy, though. Was he a part of the people trying to get the inheritance at all costs, or was he caught up in a mess by circumstances that he couldn’t control?
After they finished, Thomas walked her to where she had parked her car on the street. He gave Johanna what she would have called a chaste kiss, making her wonder more about what was happening here. He had called her for a date and then not even pushed for more than a peck.
Before she could gather her thoughts and decide if she should ask him about his intentions, a car squealed around the corner. Johanna looked up and saw the car speeding down the street. Fortunately, they were behind a row of cars parked on the road so the car wouldn’t be making an attempt to run them over.
She felt safe for a moment—until the gunfire started.
Chapter 3
Johanna felt Thomas’ hand on her as he shoved her hard. She fell back and landed solidly on the cement sidewalk. A pain ran through her ankle. She must have twisted it, Johanna thought, as she lay on the ground.
Then she felt a searing pain through her leg, and Johanna screamed out in agony. She’d been shot.
She came to and looked around. Two paramedics were heading towards her with a gurney, and people huddled around her. She couldn’t see Thomas anywhere; the crowd blocked him out. She tried to sit up and look, but the pain came back with blinding clarity. The two men rolled her onto a board and then strapped the leg gently into place, so she couldn’t move it. Johanna hoped that they had something for the pain in the ambulance. Every time that she moved, her eyes filled with tears from the affliction.
She was glad when they lifted the gurney up, so Johanna had a better view of the ground around her. She didn’t see any signs of Thomas now. He had been transported back to the hospital. If he had been wounded too, he had already been placed in an ambulance, presumably a differ
ent one. Johanna hoped that he had good insurance from the amount of time he was spending at the hospital.
The other option was that he had come out of the situation unscathed, and he’d just left her on the sidewalk by herself, waiting for assistance. She felt guilty, but given those two options, she hoped he’d been hurt.
The irony remained that he’d tried to save her and put her into harm’s way instead. From what she could determine, the bullet had gone over the cars, hit the brick wall opposite her, and ricocheted back toward the car where she was on the ground. She cursed as they slid her into the ambulance.
Marnie was waiting in an examination room when Johanna arrived there. The paramedics had handed her off to an ER doctor who had assured Johanna that the wound was superficial. Given the amount of pain, she had expected them to amputate.
They had started her on an IV, and within minutes, she felt more relaxed with far less discomfort. She greeted her friend warmly and laughed.
Marnie smiled. “Well, I can tell that they’ve given you something for the pain. How are you holding up?”
Johanna smiled. “Not bad for someone who had a date with a guy who shoved me down to the ground where I was shot. I haven’t seen him in days, and he leaves before finding out how I’m doing.”
The nurse looked at both of them intently. “He was here. Only had a nick from one of the bullets. He was released, and somebody hustled him out of there quickly. I guess they didn’t want a repeat of what had happened.”
The buzz was suddenly gone, and while Johanna didn’t feel the pain, she was no longer happy. Thomas had been here, and he’d left without checking in on her.
“So what did he say at dinner? Did he answer any of your questions?” Marnie was sitting down in the corner, but Johanna could tell that her friend was anxious and curious.
Johanna drew a deep breath and tried to remember everything that had been said at dinner. The meal seemed like so long ago, at this point. Slowly, the words and tones started to come back to her, and as they did, Johanna began to recount the discussion over dinner.
