The Pit List Murder

by Renee George

  “I can hear you,” Bobby Morris said over the radio.

  “Crap, sorry, Lily,” Nadine said. “I guess the transmitter’s working.”

  “Loud and clear,” Bobby confirmed.

  “If all goes well…” I told her, “…we’ll celebrate tonight at Dally’s with Reggie, and I will tell you both all about it. Now go be inconspicuous somewhere before Naomi arrives.”

  Buzz knocked at the door. “She’s here.”

  “She’s early,” Nadine said. She crammed her tape and stuff into a bag and raced out the back door.

  Buzz raised his brow at me. “This is decidedly not staying out of stuff.”

  “In my defense, she came at me first.”

  Buzz ruffled my hair like I was seven years old. I didn’t mind the uncle-like gesture. It reminded me that I still had family. “Go get her, tiger.”

  “Cougar.”

  He chuckled then tapped his chest and gave me a pointed look. Dang it. I forgot about being miked. “You can send her back. I’m ready.”

  He took Smooshie by the collar. “Come on, girl. I have some steak treats for you.”

  Smooshie must have understood the gist because she almost knocked Buzz over, skidding on the tiled floor as she rounded the corner toward the kitchen.

  “You are spoiling her,” I said.

  My uncle grinned and stroked his beard. “Every chance I get.”

  Buzz left and a minute later, Naomi Wells walked in the room. My whole body buzzed with volatile energy. She shut the door behind her. I didn’t like having her between me and the exit. I needed a way to escape if she pushed too many of the wrong buttons. I didn’t know how I would explain the video and audio, but the headline would read, Local Woman Goes Furry and Kills Conniving B*tch. I inhaled a calming breath and leaned against Buzz’s desk.

  “Let’s get this over with,” I said. “And after we’re done, I don’t ever want to see you again.”

  “I can’t make that promise, Lily. You seem to find yourself at the center of a lot of newsworthy stories.” She pulled a chair from the corner, and a stack of napkins that had been perched on the back of the seat fell to the floor. Naomi didn’t even blink. She just straightened her skirt and sat down.

  I clenched my fists, and my claws sank into my palms. I could smell the blood. Crap. Crap. Crap. Goddess give me control, I silently prayed.

  “I’m going to record our interview if you don’t mind. I find it makes it easier to pull direct quotes, and it makes it harder for the people I interview to say I misrepresented them.”

  “Because you would never take anything said out of context.”

  Naomi’s smile was feral. My body warmed as my cougar begged to surface. Nope. Nope. Nope. Hold it together. “Ask your questions. The sooner we’re done, the sooner I can be done with you.”

  “Okay. Let’s start with an easy one. Where did you come from?”

  “My mother’s womb.”

  Naomi gave me an exasperated glare. “In what town were you born?”

  “Burlington, Iowa,” I said, regurgitating the town Hazel had put on my forged birth certificate.

  “How come there is no record of you before two thousand and six?”

  Son of a gun. Naomi had been digging hard on me. What had she found that dated back over ten years though? The forged driver’s license maybe. The social security card. Buzz was right, I should have minded my own business when I got to town.

  I cracked my knuckles. “I’ve never been a big fan of having an electronic footprint. My parents died when I was in high school, and I kept to myself.” Mixing in some truth made the lie convincing.

  Naomi raised a suspicious brow, but she went on to the next question. “Why did you move to Moonrise?”

  “Are you trying to set up a dating profile for me or interview me about Tom Jones’ arrest?”

  “Background is important to a story.”

  “I think you’re full of it.”

  Naomi leaned forward. “And I think you’re a liar, Lily Mason. A liar and a nosy busybody who gets people hurt.”

  I’d had enough of Naomi and her attitude toward me. I prayed to the Goddess and summoned up every bit of my desire for her to tell the truth and put it into my next question. “Why are you really here, Naomi? What do you want from me?”

  “I want you to suffer. To pay for what you did to Bridgette. She was a good person.” She shook her head. “No, a great person, and you got her killed.”

  “I’d say that’s some revisionist history,” I said. I stood up and moved behind Buzz’s desk, so I wouldn’t be tempted to claw her eyes out. “You want me to pay, huh?” I pointed an accusing finger. “Is that why you helped Tom hire Seth Grossman to kill me?”

  “Yes,” she blurted then covered her mouth. “Oh, God.” Her expression went from scared to denial to rage. “I hate you!” she screamed and lunged at me. “I should have killed you myself instead of trusting that stupid oaf!”

  She was quick, but I was quicker. “Anytime!” I shouted at my chest.

  When Naomi came around the desk, I leapt over like the paranormal creature I was, and Naomi staggered back. Then she let out another bellow and took chase as I flung the door open and fled the room. Smooshie passed me in the hall, stopped short of Naomi, and began to Woof! Woof! Woof! in a very loud and convincing manner.

  “Get that monster away from me!” Naomi cried out, then slammed the door between her and Smoosh, effectively trapping herself in Buzz’s office.

  Nadine and Bobby pounded on the back door, and I raced back and let them in.

  “What took you guys so long?”

  “Maybe next time don’t lock us out,” Nadine complained. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” I said, not even out of breath. Smooshie stood watch at Buzz’s door. “Naomi is in the room. Did you get what you needed?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Nadine grinned. “She is so under arrest.”

  “We’re definitely celebrating tonight.” I hadn’t told her about my GED results yet, and I definitely wanted to dish on Parker, and now that Naomi was out of my hair, I felt like it would be smooth sailing from here on in.

  In hindsight, it was a lot of wishful thinking on my part.

  Chapter 21

  Two Hills Brewery opened up on Oak Street where Nix’s Bar used to be before it burned down. It had opened recently, but we had avoided going because of the bad memories the place held, like almost losing Nadine and finding a dead body in the alley. However, Reggie, Nadine, and I all agreed that none of us wanted to step foot in Dally’s for a while.

  The brewery had an eclectic atmosphere, mismatched tables and chairs, a Wurlitzer jukebox with ’50s and ’60s songs, bare Edison light bulbs dangling from the ceiling and over every table. It was as if the owners went down to the local thrift shop and bought everything but the clothes. Although, the new owner was dressed in vintage jeans with a flannel shirt, and construction boots with splashes of dried concrete on them, so maybe he bought the clothes there too. On top of that, the bartender had a handlebar mustache, fully waxed and curled.

  Like I said, eclectic.

  Needless to say, the place was wall to wall with people, even more than what usually hung out at Dally’s on ladies’ night. Reggie had arrived before me and had grabbed a small wooden table that looked like it had been sanded, stripped, but never finished. None of the chairs might have matched, but at least they were of appropriate height for the table. I noticed it was near the kitchen and bathrooms. Ugh. But as far as I could see there were no other free seats, so she had done the best she could.

  She waved at me, and I waved back, making my way past several other full tables to join her. I sat down. “This might be the last time we come here.”

  Reggie shrugged. “They have karaoke on Friday nights.”

  “Then we’re definitely never coming here again.”

  We both laughed.

  “I heard you had an exciting day,” she said. “Nadine filled me in earlier.”<
br />
  “I think I bring out the worst in people.”

  “That woman was already the worst.” She put her hand over mine. “I’m sorry she used me to blackmail you.”

  “She never really wanted a story from me. She wanted my humiliation. She wanted me to suffer.”

  Reggie shook her head. “I don’t understand how people can be so cruel. Speaking of cruel, my ex told me he’s coming in two days before graduation. One extra day to make sure I’m extra miserable.”

  I nudged her. “When he arrives, we could find his car in the parking lot and key the crap out of it.”

  “Lily!” She leaned in close. “You’re not serious are you, because…”

  “Hey, I’m up for any punishment you want to dish out to that jerk.” I waved at the barmaid, a perky strawberry blonde, wearing flannel and skinny jeans, and who looked like she might have turned twenty-one that morning.

  Nadine joined us at the table. “Who are we punishing?”

  “Reggie’s ex-monster.”

  “Well, we should probably keep the punishments legal, unless we take our time to plan it out.” She winked. “I’m a cop, Reggie’s a medical examiner, and Lily is detail oriented. We could probably plan something so good that no one would even think to look in our direction.”

  Reggie giggled. “You’re terrible. Both of you. Besides, it’s my ex-husband, everyone would be looking in my direction.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “It’s always the spouse or the ex. By the way, did your doctor friend get the autopsy done?”

  “Yes, and the results are really strange. He had high chloride levels in his blood and organs, and he had extreme pulmonary edema.”

  Nadine looked blank.

  “His lungs were full of fluid,” I told her.

  “And he had cardiomegaly,” Reggie said.

  Nadine glanced at me.

  “Enlarged heart.”

  Nadine smiled. “You’re going to be a good nurse or doctor, Lily. Unlike some people who have to use mumbo-jumbo terminology.” She cast an accusing glance at Reggie. “Get down to it already.”

  “Oh, fine,” Reggie said. “He died of exposure to chlorine gas.”

  “Wow,” Nadine said. “How does someone get exposed to chlorine gas? Is that like bleach?”

  “Mixing bleach and ammonia would do it,” I said. “It’s why they always warn people not to mix the two solutions together.”

  Reggie nodded. “Lily’s right. But the concentrations of chloride levels in all the internal organs means this was probably industrial-grade chemicals.”

  The strawberry blonde finally came over to our table. “What can I get you ladies to drink?”

  “I’ll take a beer,” I said.

  “What kind?”

  “What kind do you have?”

  She produced a list that was taller than me of variations of microbrews. I finally settled on one that was called Citrus Fantasy.

  Nadine smirked. “That sounds gross.”

  I wasn’t going to argue, because I kind of agreed.

  “I’ll take a Sizzle Twist,” Reggie said. It was a gin and tonic drink with a twist of lemon.

  “I’ll try your Merry-Go-Cherry.”

  “Now that sounds gross,” I said. It was cherry vodka, lime juice, sugar syrup, and club soda. “You might as well drink a bottle of cough medicine.”

  Nadine appeared unperturbed. “I like that too.” When the waitress walked away, Nadine said, “I think this is a hipster bar.”

  “Well, la-ti-da,” said Reggie. “I guess we’re in with the cool crowd.”

  “If you think hipsters are cool,” Nadine snorted.

  I was still thinking about the chlorine gas. “Was that why he had those dark marks on his skin?”

  “Yes. His skin had actually eroded in the exposure.”

  I turned to Nadine. “That means—”

  “I know what eroded means.”

  I laughed. “Okay.” Hipster barmaid brought us our drinks. I waited until she left to ask Nadine, “Did they find any chemicals at Donnie’s house? Or at Kirkshaw’s or Lovell’s?”

  Nadine stretched back and almost tipped her chair over. “Can I say how much I hate this place?”

  “Yes,” Reggie and I said at the same time.

  Safely back on all fours, Nadine continued, “There were no industrial-strength chemicals at either Donnie’s or the suspects’ houses. Although, Kirkshaw and Lovell might not be suspects for long.”

  “They’re innocent?”

  “Not by a long shot. The video revealed the scheme to defraud the school and the government. They have been taking applications from borderline-need students and applying for Pell Grants and scholarships in their name and pocketing the money for themselves.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “It gets worse. Our forensic accountant reckons they’ve scammed over a million dollars in the past five years. Donnie was blackmailing Kirkshaw for a piece of the pie.”

  “What about the women on the videos? Did they know they were filmed? And was he blackmailing them?”

  “Not a single one of them.” She raised her brow as she stared across the room. “Hey, is that Rita, Richard O’Reilly’s wife?”

  “The guy that attacked Lily the other night?” Nadine asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I think it is,” I said. We watched her skirt the edges of the room to a dark table in the corner. She sat down, but without giving away my Shifter eyes, I couldn’t see who she sat with. “Is he still in jail?”

  “Yep. Rita denied sending him after you.”

  Richard had not been lying. He believed with all his might that his wife had been violated and that it had been filmed.

  “So, Kirkshaw and Lovell have an alibi for the murder?”

  “Looks like they were in Chicago at a work function. The hotel and the organizers of the event confirmed their story.” Nadine took a sip of her Merry-Go-Cherry. She cringed. “Yep. Just like cough medicine with a splash of club soda.”

  I dared to taste the Citrus Fantasy. The dark beer was thick, bitter, with an aftertaste of overripened orange. It wasn’t great, but it wasn’t as horrible as I’d thought. “I can live with it.”

  Reggie tasted her drink. “Just the way I like my gin and tonics.”

  “Did you ever find Donnie’s phone?” I asked Reggie. “I didn’t see it when I was at his house.”

  “I know he had one,” Reggie said. “He put my number in his phone that night.”

  “We never found one,” Nadine said. “The sheriff insisted on a thorough search yesterday, and other than a jimmied drawer that had several new, in-the-package USB drive and a receipt. There wasn’t anything else.”

  “Not a lone cap?”

  “Lily?”

  I shrugged sheepishly. “I might have taken a quick look around.”

  “It’s how she found my earring,” Reggie said.

  “Hey,” Nadine was looking toward the far side of the room. “Is that Shelly Atwell getting up from Rita’s table?”

  Reggie shrugged. “I wouldn’t know Rita or Shelly from Eve.”

  “Wow,” I sputtered. “Rachel Keeton, the sheriff’s niece, just got up as well.” Talk about alarm bells. “Are they all friends?”

  “Not that I know of, but if they are, how disgusting was Donnie Doyle?” asked Nadine.

  “Hey!” Reggie said.

  “Sorry,” said Nadine.

  “Did he really have sex with all of them?” Reggie looked ashamed and horrified.

  “Yes,” Nadine and I said.

  “That is disgusting.”

  An idea curled inside my mind. “Reggie, can a mild exposure to chlorine gas cause pneumonia?”

  “Sure,” she said. “It’s called toxic pneumonitis. Meaning it’s pneumonia that isn’t caused by an infection.”

  “Would the doctors know it wasn’t infectious pneumonia if the person diagnosed didn’t tell them that she’d been exposed to a chemical gas?”
<
br />   “No.” She frowned. “They would have treated her the way they would treat any pneumonia, breathing treatments, corticosteroids, possibly furosemide.”

  Nadine held up her hand to me. “Don’t even try to explain what Reggie is saying. Just get to the point.”

  “Shelly Atwell was in the hospital not quite two weeks ago with a bout of pneumonia.” I stared at them both expectantly. When they didn’t jump on my train of thought, I added, “And she has some discoloration on her hand.”

  “Oooh,” Nadine crooned. “Like Donnie did on his face and arms.”

  “Exactly. I thought it was a birthmark, but maybe is wasn’t.”

  “Do you think she killed him?” Reggie asked. “On her own?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I don’t think she did it on her own. I have a feeling she had some help.” I turned to Nadine. “Do you think you can track down Donnie’s phone number?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I have a hunch that one of those women have the missing phone.”

  Reggie pulled out her own phone. “Uhm, I have Donnie’s number. What do you want to do with it?”

  I pulled a ten out of my purse and dropped it on the table. “I want to call that phone and see if Shelly, Rita, or Rachel ring.”

  Reggie and Nadine put money on the table as well.

  “This is a bad idea,” Reggie said.

  Nadine grinned. “All the best ones are.”

  It was a little after eight o’clock when we hit the street.

  “Shouldn’t we call for backup?” Reggie asked.

  “And tell them what?” Nadine waved her hand at Reggie. “All we have is a lot of guessing and conjecture. We don’t know that any of those women had anything to do with Donnie’s murder. We’re just playing a game of ‘Test Lily’s Theory.’”

  “Which usually proves right on the money.” Reggie kept pace as we strolled after the trio, but her shoes made a loud clacking noise with every step.

  “Jayzus, Reggie, do you have to be so loud?”

  “Trailing after suspects wasn’t on my to-do list when I put on my high heels tonight.”