A Deadly Promotion

by Melanie Jones Brownrigg

  “Oh dear. Now I’m afraid for you guys. What kind of car is it?”

  “A tan one.”

  “Do you know the model, or even the license plate? Maybe you could just look out the window and see it. I’d like to have it, in the event you guys break down.”

  “You’re such a good girlfriend. David’s so lucky to have found you.” She grunted and groaned while pushing out of the booth. Finally getting to her feet, she went to the big glass windows and peered out at the car. “It’s a Ford. There’s some cursive writing, but I can’t make it out.”

  “What about the license plate?”

  “Oh yes, it’s EZE-529.”

  “Where are you guys planning on staying the night?”

  “David said Albuquerque. That’s in New Mexico.”

  “New Mexico … Albuquerque,” Paige repeated. “Listen, we’d better get off the phone before David returns. I don’t want to ruin my surprise. Remember, don’t say anything about my call.”

  “Mums the word,” Elizabeth assured her. She slipped the phone back in her purse just in the nick of time before David appeared, forgetting to turn it off.

  “You’d better be ready,” David grouched, appearing at the table and not bothering to take a seat. “Jesus, did you even take a bite of that thing?” he asked, peering down at the uneaten sundae.

  “I … I had to run to the ladies’ room again. I just got back.”

  “And you just left it there? Jesus, Momma.” He picked up the container and tossed it in a nearby trashcan. “Let’s go.”

  “David, I could’ve taken it with me,” she whined, watching her delicious dessert tumble into the waste can.

  Back in the car, David looked over his left shoulder, checked for traffic and then pulled into the street. He drove one block, heading under an overpass, turned right and then traveled along the access road to the nearest gas station.

  “David, would you mind going in and getting me some Rolaids. I do believe the burger is going to give me indigestion.”

  David frowned, but started the gas pumping and headed for the store entrance.

  While he was inside, Elizabeth replayed Paige’s conversation in her head. It didn’t really make any sense why she was curious about the car, especially wanting the license plate. If they had car trouble, David would call someone, using his new phone. The more she thought about it, the more she wondered why David had left Paige. He loved her so much. And he’d just walked away. It didn’t ring true. And why hadn’t the police returned his electronics? And more importantly, what was this stuff about an employee taking money? Surely, they didn’t think David was behind anything unscrupulous. He’d been a good boy all his life. Someone must be framing him, she decided. Then her eye caught sight of the satchel in the backseat. David had locked it in the trunk when they went inside to eat, but now it was back within his sight. And David had buckled it back in, and he was constantly eying it in his rearview mirror … like it was precious cargo. Why would that be?

  Elizabeth gazed in through the storefront and saw David at the register. She unbuckled her seat belt and turned around in her seat, placing her on her knees. She stretched through the console, grabbed hold of the case, and leaned it forward. Unzipping it, she spread it open and peered inside.

  “Oh,” she gasped, seeing a large quantity of one hundred-dollar bills. “Oh my God,” she said on an exhale, realizing David had stolen the money. “We’re on the run,” she muttered to herself, noting her heart was racing far too fast.

  She looked back at David and he was placing his wallet back in his rear pocket and heading for the door. She tried desperately to zip it back up, but there wasn’t time. She flung herself around in the seat and barely had time to get situated before David was back. He hung up the nozzle with a loud click and then climbed in the car, bringing with him the smell of gasoline.

  “Here. They only had Tums.” She took the plastic container from him and stared at the multi-colored discs. “I really like Rolaids. Can we stop somewhere else?”

  “Nope. Take those or die.”

  For the first time since Elizabeth had adopted David, she wondered if he literally meant those harsh words. She fiddled with the blue top and managed to get it opened, popping a wafer into her mouth and chewing it. “I need something to get this taste out of my mouth. Will you go back in and get me some water?” She needed a diversion to get the case zipped back up.

  “Choke it down. We’re getting on the road.” David pulled down the access road and veered toward the I-40 entrance ramp, heading west. They’d barely traveled five miles when David glanced in the rearview mirror. Instant fury spread across his face like wildfire. “Did you go into my satchel!”

  “No,” she lied.

  “Don’t you dare lie to me. The zipper is open!”

  Elizabeth sat still as a church mouse and kept her gaze forward. “I was looking for a pen. I wanted to make a journal of our trip.”

  David gave her a scathing look, but made no further comment. Outside of town, he veered right and took a lone country road.

  “What are you doing?” his mother croaked out. “Where are we going?”

  “Scenic route,” David gruffly replied.

  Elizabeth began to shake uncontrollably, and for certain she felt a heart attack coming on. A few miles later, David turned down a smaller dirt lane and pulled over to the side, coming to a stop under the shade of a fence-line of scruffy looking trees.

  “Why are we stopping?” Elizabeth asked in a terrified tone.

  “Lubricant light came on. I’m going to put some oil in. I have a few containers in the trunk. It won’t take but a minute.”

  David threw his door open, shoved a leg out to the hard-packed ground, and simultaneously reached down to pop the hood. Maneuvering himself out of the car, he headed first to the hood and raised it to full open, propping it in place with a thin metal rod. Then he walked to the rear of the car, glaring inside at his mother as he passed her by. Opening the trunk, he reached inside, not for the oil, but for his bat. His mother knew about the money. She had gone and done it now. It was no longer a question of could he do it. Now he had to.

  Chapter Seventy-Five

  “Good job,” Detective Sutton praised when I had been successful in not only finding out David’s destination and getting the car’s make, but I had also managed to con Mrs. Ross into keeping my call secret from David.

  “Thanks,” I said, beaming a smile, first at him, then at Paul.

  Detective Sutton rapidly mashed numbers into his phone in an effort at contacting the Amarillo police department. Hopefully, they could intercept David and his mother while they were still at Braum’s. Detective Andrews was busy triangulating pings hitting off the GPS device from Mrs. Ross’s phone.

  In a matter of minutes, two units were headed for the eatery along the interstate, a location which seemed the most likely destination. My fingers were crossed on my right hand and Paul was gripping tight to my left. This was so exciting. It almost made me want to give up my CFO job and become a detective.

  Then everything changed.

  My phone rang. “It’s Mrs. Ross,” I told the detectives before answering. My face tightened, worried that something must be wrong.

  “Careful what you say,” Detective Sutton warned. “David can’t possibly still be in the restroom.”

  I nodded and then answered. “Mrs. Ross, this is Paige.”

  “Oh, oh my God, Paige. For sure, I think David is going to kill me.” She broke down and began sobbing.

  “What’s happening? Where are you? Where is David?” My mouth felt like it was going ninety miles an hour.

  “While we were stopped for gas, I sent David in to look for antacids. I took the opportunity to look in a bag he has in the backseat. It’s full of money. I couldn’t get it zipped up and David noticed it. He said he was going to check the oil, but I can see under the gap in the hood. He has a bat … not a quart of oil. You don’t put oil in with a bat. Oh, God,” she
wailed.

  “Where are you?” I asked in a shrill, panicked voice.

  “He drove out of town about five miles. Once David noticed the unzipped bag, he exited off on a country road. I didn’t get the highway number because I didn’t expect him to exit. When David said we were taking the scenic route, I got scared. Then he turned off on a small dirt road. When he did, I noticed it was marked as Fletcher’s Road. We’re pulled over to the side, under some trees.”

  While Mrs. Ross was on speaker, Detective Sutton was busy relaying everything she was saying to the Amarillo officer nearest to their described location.

  From a distance away, I heard David yelling to his mother. “Momma, I told you to bring me a rag. Get it out of the glovebox and hurry up about it.”

  “I’m hunting for one,” Mrs. Ross yelled back, clearly stalling for time.

  “Mrs. Ross, the police are on their way. Did David leave the keys in the car?”

  “Yes. They’re still in the ignition. This car’s too old for a fob,” she added.

  “Can you get behind the wheel and drive away?”

  “No, hon. It’s not a bench-type seat. I wouldn’t be able to get over the console. Not in my shape.”

  “Okay, well roll up the windows and lock the doors. It’ll buy you some time.”

  “Tell her the police are exiting the freeway. They should be there in a few minutes,” Detective Sutton informed me, and I relayed the message to her.

  “Mother, are you listening to me?” David screamed at the top of his lungs.

  “Oh God, he left the bat on the radiator, but he’s coming around to my side of the car.”

  “Don’t panic. If he left the bat, then he wants you out of the car. Just stay put.” My heart was thudding so hard in my chest I felt faint. I looked at Paul for reassurances and his jaw was set so tight I thought he might break a tooth.

  “Open the damn door,” David yelled, tapping on her window. Then banging on her window, his rage clearly discernible through the speaker even though he was outside the car. “Get this damned door open right now. Do you hear me!”

  Mrs. Ross sobbed into the phone while David pounded on her window with what now sounded like both fists.

  “You’re making my head hurt again,” David hollered. “My head is killing me! And this is all your fault.”

  Then there was nothing but silence, which scared me to death.

  “Paige, he’s gone back to the front of the car.” She screamed into the phone. My stomach catapulted into my throat, and for sure I thought I was going to vomit. “He’s coming back with the bat. Oh, Jesus, what should I do?” Mrs. Ross whimpered.

  David was about to kill his own mother in a most violent act. Dragging as much air into my lungs as possible, I prepared myself to hear the worst noises imaginable. As the seconds wore on, my heart sped up and fear churned in my stomach. Then I heard breaking glass and long, horrifying screams from Mrs. Ross. My adrenaline was higher than a kite. There was no way I wanted to be a detective. What had I been thinking?

  “David, stop. Please stop!” Mrs. Ross begged at the top of her lungs.

  Violent crashing noises exploded into the phone. David continued to yell at his mother while she begged for her life.

  “Tell him you love him,” suddenly came out of my mouth. I had to shout it four times before she heard me between the smashing of glass and her screams of terror.

  “David, I love you. I love you so much. I love you,” But it came out as a plea for her life, not as an earnest declaration to David.

  “Let’s go,” I heard him say. He must’ve smashed the glass enough to reach the door handle.

  “No, please. Please don’t, David. David, please, I love you. Don’t do this to your own mother.”

  Mrs. Ross made fighting, kicking and grunting noises, trying to stay in the car. “Out of the car,” he ordered, most likely thinking he could blame the broken window on vandals, but he clearly wanted to avoid any of her blood inside the vehicle.

  “Come on, Mommy Dearest,” David told her in the evilest voice I had ever heard.

  “Oh God,” Mrs. Ross cried as she was being dragged from the vehicle. “Please don’t kill me. Please, David,” she hysterically begged for her life.

  “Why didn’t you mind your own business? Why, Mother!” he bellowed.

  “I’ll keep my mouth shut. I won’t tell anyone,” Mrs. Ross desperately tried to convince him.

  “Ouch! You’re hurting my arm. David, please don’t do this.”

  “Then walk, dammit. I need you away from the car,” he demanded of her.

  Then I heard the sweet sound of sirens. During my interaction with Mrs. Ross, Detective Sutton had been carrying on a separate conversation with Officer Richards, leading him and his partner down Fletcher’s Road.

  “What the hell!” I heard David yell when he realized the police were bearing down on him.

  “Drop the weapon and place your hands in the air,” one of the officers instructed.

  A moment later, Mrs. Ross came back on the line. “I’m alive. Thank you, Paige. Because of you, I’m alive.”

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  David was taken into custody and later he and his mother were brought back to Fort Worth. A few days later, David was examined to see if he were competent to stand trial. During the process, he repeatedly complained of headaches. After extensive medical testing, a brain tumor was discovered to be pressing against the amygdala within his cerebrum. It was the part of the brain that interpreted stimuli and communicated bodily functions, like breathing and heart rate, but also controlled primal emotions, including anger.

  David underwent immediate surgery. The doctors were able to completely remove the Grade 1 growth and were optimistically expecting him to make a full recovery. Over the next several weeks, while he was in rehab, medical experts, together with the detectives, were able to piece together David’s growing resentment of Ethel, stemming from her not acknowledging him as her son. His anger boiled over to Lidia, and culminated when they planned a family vacation without him. That was when he schemed to make it look like they embezzled from the company. Then, his anger grew rampant when he perceived Julie as being inept and not following through on her investigation.

  With a clearer understanding of what was going on in David’s mind, I went to visit him at the rehabilitation center.

  “Paige, I simply can’t apologize enough for what happened in the stairwell … you do realize I tripped and then, well, all hell just broke loose.” He sighed and pushed up in his bed, ashamedly turning his bandaged head away from me. “The sandwich was inexcusable too. I was just so jealous after seeing you were with that attorney. It was all because of my brain tumor … you know.” David turned back to face me, showing nothing but remorse. His skin was pale and pasty. He looked overly weak, and he needed a shave.

  “I understand,” I gently told him. I believed he was truly repentant. David had always been the shy and quiet type. And, for Christ’ sakes, the man had suffered from a brain tumor. I was willing to forgive him.

  “Did you know I had my mother give the money back to Mr. Harrington? I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Yes, Mr. Harrington told me. He was extremely grateful. I’m sure you weren’t thinking clearly … you know, you had a brain tumor.”

  “Yeah, a lot of stuff was going on in my head … like I had my momma sell her house. I’m glad those buyers were understanding and exercised their right of rescission to cancel out the home equity loan. My momma was able to move back in.”

  “That’s good,” I agreed. It had come to light that David didn’t really have a job in Silicon Valley. He was planning to use the stolen money to tide him over until something came along.

  “How’s work?” he asked.

  “I’ve settled in … even hired a couple of new employees. So far, everyone’s getting along well with each other.” I laughed. “Did you hear Carter is still dating Lisa?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Yo
u’re kidding?”

  “Nope, after Lisa walked out on him, she completely ignored him. It must’ve driven Carter crazy because two weeks later he asked her out on a date.”

  “Figures,” he said with a chuckle. “Whatever happened to Angela?”

  “She found some other guy to begin stalking, and hopefully she’ll leave Paul and me alone.” That’s when our conversation got a little awkward. I shouldn’t have brought up stalking, or Paul, or leaving me alone. David screwed up his face. “Sorry, David. I didn’t mean it like it sounded. Remember, you had a brain tumor. You weren’t really responsible for your behavior.”

  Or was he?

  * * *

  Several months later, fall had turned the evening skies into varying shades of gray and oranges. Though it was only the first of October and the clocks hadn’t yet returned to standard time, the days were becoming increasingly shorter. Nightfall had begun to invade the windows of my office, causing twinkling lights from the city to reflect against the darkened panes.

  As I tidied up my desk to leave for the day, Paul’s handsome face appeared at my doorway. Paul and I considered ourselves an official couple now. I had given up my apartment and we were living together. It was an arrangement Callie and Freddy were equally pleased with.

  It was Friday night and we were planning dinner with my parents. As always, I worried about what blunt things were going to escape my mother’s mouth. Paul, so far, had taken her blatant remarks, especially about marriage, in stride. But I worried there might be a breaking point and he’d leave me in the hopes of finding someone with a more normal mother. Thankfully, my dad was grounded. He and Paul had gone fishing several times, and they seemed to get along well together.

  “Shall we?” Paul asked, escorting me from my office, down to the lobby and finally to the elevator. He mashed the fortieth-floor button and the lift swooshed upward, the sudden change in altitude enough to make my ears pop. He guided me off with a warm hand to the small of my back.