Death Vetoes The Chairman (Lizzie Crenshaw Mysteries Book 7)

  Death Vetoes the Chairman

  A Lizzie Crenshaw Mystery #7

  By

  Teresa Watson

  Death Vetoes the Chairman

  A Lizzie Crenshaw Mystery

  Text copyright © 2015 Teresa L. Watson

  This is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. Any errors regarding specific businesses and locations are solely mine and totally unintentional.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.

  DISCLAIMER

  The contents of this book may be disturbing to some readers. While not graphic or gory (I would never do that to you!), there is some sensitive subject matter that may be difficult for some. It is not my intention to upset any reader.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  This was a tough book to write, and I couldn’t have gotten through it without the support and help of several people:

  Stacy Jeziorowski: I don’t believe I would have finished this book without your constant nagging, I mean, gentle urging! Seriously, thank you for everything you have done for me the last few months. It means a lot.

  My family: Writing this book did not always make me a nice person to be around. Most of the time, my husband, Buddy, threw chocolate in my general direction and ran for cover. My parents, Jim and Charlotte, and my son, James, kept after me to finish, with my parents doing their usual great editing work.

  Kristi: Excellent editing as usual, along with all the funny comments you send me. The laughs were needed and appreciated. The encouragement and support you gave me was wonderful. Thank you!

  Alyssa White: Thank you for volunteering to read at the almost absolute last minute! You are a ROCK STAR, girl!

  To my beta readers, who gave me encouragement and advice: thank you!

  Jamie Lee Scott: Another excellent cover! Thank you so much for everything you have done to help and support me the last three and a half years.

  Lastly, to you, my readers, for waiting so patiently for this book to come out. Your compassion and understanding as I dealt with some personal issues mean more to me than you will ever know.

  BOOKS

  The Lizzie Crenshaw Mysteries:

  Death of a Cantankerous Old Coot

  Death Makes the Front Page

  Death Stalks the Law

  Death Goes to the Dogs

  Death Catches a Killer

  Death Takes the Blue Ribbon

  Death Vetoes the Chairman

  Death Catches the Bouquet (coming soon)

  Good Night, Sleep Tight, Don’t let the Stalkers Bite

  The Ghost Writer Mysteries

  Who Killed the Ghost in the Library?

  Who Invited the Ghost to Dinner? (tentative title – coming soon!)

  Chapter 1

  For the tenth time, I wondered how I let myself get talked into the situation I currently found myself in. Then I glanced at the person sitting to my left and resisted the urge to kick him.

  I was sitting in an elegant ballroom in a downtown Dallas hotel with about two thousand other people. Dozens of round tables were strategically placed around the room. Each one had a white tablecloth, white plates with gold edging, beige cloth napkins, gold eating utensils and crystal glasses. Ten giant chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and large flower arrangements on tall gold stands were scattered around the room.

  My date for the evening was Jacob Mathias, my college boyfriend, one of the richest men in the world, and the one person who believes he is God’s gift to women. Known to his friends as Jake, we were here because he had gotten on his knees, begging and pleading for me to go with him. He called it “a boring little get-together that I just have to attend because the person in charge was an old family friend.” Okay, so he didn’t really get on his knees, but he did spend ten minutes groveling. Stupid me…I thought it was going to be something where I could wear a business pants suit. After I consented, he threw the change up: “By the way, Lizzie, it’s formal. You’ll need an evening gown. I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at six.” And then the coward had run out the door before I could change my mind and tell him no.

  My best friend, Trixie Greene, had brought a ton of things to my house this afternoon, and I was forced to submit to primping and curling, which I normally avoid at all costs. By the time she was done, even I had to admit I looked pretty good. She had selected a satin emerald green floor length gown, with a small, ruffled strap across the left shoulder, and a silver and green beaded belt around the waist. A diamond tennis bracelet was on my left wrist, and teardrop diamond earrings were partially covered by long, loose auburn curls, and I was wearing a pair of simple silver pumps. My phone, some cash and my house key were inside a small silver clutch. Trixie had also brought a beautiful silver Venetian lace shawl with fringe evenly spaced along the bottom.

  Jake looked very handsome in his Armani tuxedo, and we garnered many envious looks when we walked into the ballroom. “You do realize they’re staring at you, not me,” he whispered in my ear.

  “I feel like one of those holiday dolls all dressed up like this,” I whispered back. “Explain to me again why we’re doing this.”

  “The Winthrops are old family friends,” he replied. “My father called a few days ago, and asked me to make an appearance. Their son moved here to take over the Dallas office of his father’s business.”

  “Do you know their son?” I said as we were escorted to our table. To my horror, we were placed at a table near the front of the room.

  “I haven’t seen him in years,” Jake said, helping me take off my shawl. He draped it on the back of the white slipcovered chair, and slid the chair in as I sat down.

  “Jake!” a deep male voice called out from behind us. I turned slightly in my chair and gasped. He was tall and tan, with dirty blonde hair and piercing light blue eyes, and his black tuxedo couldn’t hide his muscular arms. He reminded me of that Texas actor who won the Oscar a few months ago, and when he smiled down at me, I melted at the sight of his dimples. “You made it. It’s been what, ten years?”

  “More like twelve,” Jake said, shaking his hand.

  “And who is this beautiful woman next to you? Don’t tell me this is the young lady you were always talking about. Elizabeth, wasn’t it?”

  “Elizabeth Crenshaw, this is Ethan Winthrop.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Winthrop.”

  “The pleasure is all mine,” Ethan said, taking my hand in his and kissing it. “Please, call me Ethan.”

  After that, the evening had gone down the tubes. We were sitting at Ethan’s table, where he and Jake talked about business and mutual friends back east. After an hour, I saw people getting up and making their way to a room adjacent to the ballroom. “I do believe we have bored poor Elizabeth to tears,” Ethan said when he noticed me watching everyone leaving. “Why don’t we follow the crowd and see what is going on next door?”

  Jake pulled my chair out as I picked up my clutch and stood up, but it was Ethan who offered me his arm and escorted me to the next room, leaving Jake to grab my sha
wl off the back of my chair. There was a large dance floor in the center of the room, with black and tan flooring. A large chandelier hung over the center, with smaller chandeliers hanging over the seating areas on both sides of the floor. The lighting was dimmed, giving the room an intimate feeling. The band, dressed in tuxedos, was sitting at the front of the dance floor, playing a slow jazz number.

  Putting my wrap down on a nearby table, Jake gently pulled me away from Ethan and led me onto the dance floor. “Sorry for ignoring you,” he said. “You know how it is. I start talking business…”

  “…and you forget everything else,” I finished for him. “Yes, I remember lots of dates with you in college like that. I get the feeling you know Ethan better than you implied earlier.”

  “I do,” he admitted, “but we had a bit of a falling out during high school.”

  “So you’re childhood friends?” He nodded. “Wow, I don’t think you ever mentioned him when we were dating. Is he married?”

  “Not that I know of. Why, are you interested?”

  “You know better than that.”

  “Yes, I do,” he replied as a dark look crossed his face briefly. “How are things going between the two of you?”

  He was referring to T.J. Roosevelt, with whom I had a rather complicated history. After I found out he was really an FBI agent, and how he was using me to capture my half-aunt, who just happened to be a serial killer, I had broken things off. We had recently decided that we both still cared about each other, so we were dating again. That decision didn’t sit well with Jake, who was still hoping he had a chance with me (he didn’t).

  Before I could say anything, Ethan tapped Jake on the shoulder. “May I cut in?” he said. There was a brunette standing next to him, wearing a dress that left very little to the imagination.

  I saw Jake eying her briefly before he looked at me. “Do you mind dancing with Ethan for a few minutes?” he said, clearly eager to swap partners but trying hard not to show it.

  “That’s fine,” I replied. “Heaven forbid I get between you and your next one night stand.”

  Ethan laughed while Jake glared at me. We switched partners, and the two of them danced away from us. “Are you and Jake still dating?” he asked me as we glided across the floor.

  “No, we haven’t dated in a long time.”

  “Really? That’s interesting. Any particular reason why the two of you broke up?” he asked as he slid his hand down my back and stopping on my behind.

  I reached back and moved his hand up to my back. “Because he wanted something he couldn’t have,” I said tersely, hoping he got the message that what he wanted was off limits as well.

  “And what was that?” Ethan asked, twirling me out and pulling me back.

  “Marriage.”

  “You don’t believe in it?”

  “I do, but I didn’t like the future he was planning for me.”

  He looked down at me. “And now? What does the future hold for you?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. I’ve had some recent disappointments that have made me rethink what I want to do with my life.”

  I didn’t notice that he had moved us to the edge of the dance floor. There was a curtain off to the left, and before I realized it, Ethan had steered me behind the curtain. There was a glass door that opened onto an outdoor patio. I glanced up at the twinkling stars. “These disappointments you mentioned,” he said, “I take it there’s a man involved?”

  “Nothing for you to concern yourself about,” I replied. “How are you enjoying Dallas so far?”

  “I will admit it’s been a bit…dull, until tonight, that is,” Ethan said as he grabbed my arms, pulling me toward him. He leaned over and kissed me hard.

  I shoved him away, but he reached out for me. He managed to get his hand around a strap, and I winced as I heard something rip. The strap slid off my arm and hung down the front of my dress. “What do you think you’re doing?” I gasped.

  “Kissing a beautiful woman,” he said, grabbing my arms and pulling me toward him again. He kissed me again, and that’s when I stomped on his foot. “What is your problem?”

  “At the moment, you are,” I said. “You’ve got a lot of nerve putting the moves on your friend’s date.”

  He laughed. “He won’t even notice you’re gone, my dear. Babs will keep him busy for quite a while.”

  “That’s what you think,” I snapped, moving toward the door.

  Ethan quickly blocked my escape route. “There’s no reason to be so hostile, Elizabeth. I’m sure we will become very close and personal friends. I assure you I take very good care of my friends.”

  There was only one way I was going to get out of this. “Really? And how do you plan on taking care of me?”

  Smiling, Ethan moved closer. He put his arms around me, leaned over and kissed my neck. “I’ll set you up in an apartment, give you a car with your own driver, whatever you want.”

  “This is what I really want right now,” I replied, before slamming my knee into a rather sensitive area.

  He gasped, let go of me and fell to his knees. I stepped around him, yanked the door open, and went back inside. I spotted Jake dancing with Babs the maneater (okay, so I didn’t really know if she was a maneater, but considering who she hung out with, namely Ethan, I was assuming they were two peas in a pod). Walking over to him, I put my hand on his arm. He was smiling when he turned around, but he took one look at my face and dropped Babs’ hands. “What’s the matter?”

  “Take me home, please,” I said, biting my lower lip to keep from crying.

  He noticed the torn strap. “What happened?”

  I shook my head. “Not here. Please, can we just go?”

  Jake looked over my shoulder and spotted Ethan, who was walking very gingerly as he approached us. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing at all, Jake,” Ethan said. “We were talking, and when Elizabeth turned to come inside, she slipped. I tried to break her fall, and the strap broke.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “Please, Lizzie, keep your voice down,” Jake said. He led me off the dance floor and over to the table where my shawl was. “Now what happened?”

  “Exactly what I told you happened,” Ethan replied. “She’s just upset.”

  “I didn’t ask you, Ethan,” Jake said coldly. Tears slid down my cheeks. I didn’t want to talk about this in public. I just wanted to go home. Jake put his hand under my chin, and raised my head until I was looking him in the eye. “Tell me, Lizzie.”

  “He…forced himself on me while we were on the patio. I pushed him away, but he wouldn’t stop. So I stomped on his foot, and tried to go around him to come back inside. He said we could become close and personal friends, that he would set me up with an apartment and a car…”

  “Are you trying to replace me?” Babs yelled.

  “Lower your voice, Barbara,” Ethan said, looking around the room. People were staring at us and whispering. I could just imagine what they were saying. “She’s the one who came onto me. When I rejected her advances, she tore the strap on her gown to make it look like I was the aggressor. She’s not my type.”

  Jake ignored them. “What happened after he said that?”

  “I gave him a knee in the family jewels.”

  Jake smiled. “That’s my girl,” he said, and gave me a brief hug. Turning around, he glared at Ethan. “I believe her. You always were a womanizing jerk when we were kids, and I see that hasn’t changed any.” He picked up my shawl and put it over my shoulders. “Are you ready to go?” I nodded. “It’s been nice seeing you again, Ethan. Let’s make it the last time.”

  Ethan laughed haughtily. “You have always been a sucker for a pretty face and a sob story, Jake. Fine, leave. You two deserve each other. It’s obvious she’s nothing more than a…”

  Jake punched him in the face before he could finish his sentence. Ethan stumbled backwards and fell against a table. The table tipped over, spilling plates, silverwar
e and crystal goblets all over the floor. “She has more class than you will ever have, Winthrop. Don’t ever come near her, or me, again.”

  He draped his arm around my waist, steered me around the wrecked table, and out of the door. “Thank you, Jake,” I said quietly as we walked toward the front of the hotel.

  “For what?” he asked. The doorman quickly opened the door for us and signaled for the valet.

  “For believing me about what happened,” I sniffled.

  He pulled his handkerchief out of his breast pocket and handed it to me. “I know you would never do the things he accused you of, Lizzie,” he said, squeezing my hand. “When we first started dating, it was a month before you let me kiss you.”

  I started crying then. The adrenaline rush was gone, and I was shaking. Jake pulled me to him, wrapped his arms around me, and let me cry. He handed his ticket to the valet, who hurried off to get the Porsche. “Is there anything I can do for the young lady, sir?” the doorman asked. He sounded like an Englishman, and he watched us with a concerned look on his face.

  Jake shook his head. “She’ll be fine. She’s tougher than she looks.”

  “Are you sure, sir?” the doorman sounded doubtful.

  “Quite sure. I don’t know any other woman who could defend herself from a man who tried to take advantage of her, and look so beautiful doing it.”

  “I hope you gave it to him good, ma’am,” the doorman said to me. “Men like that should be…well, I won’t say it. Good for you, ma’am, good for you.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  The valet parked the Porsche at the curb, and the doorman hurried down the steps to open the passenger door for me. “Chin up, love. Sounds like you did yourself proud.”

  I nodded and got into the Porsche. As we drove away, I said to Jake, “Do something for me.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Never invite me to one of these shindigs of yours ever again.”

  Chapter 2

  A week later, I was sitting on my couch at home, watching to the Saturday night college football game of the week. Babe, my bloodhound, and Mittens, my Maltese, were stretched out in the middle of the living room floor, sound asleep. I was wearing a blue T-shirt, my penguin pajama bottoms, and a purple pair of slipper socks. Stories under consideration for next week’s newspapers were all around me on the couch. Next to my Dr Pepper on the coffee table was Debra Cosgrove’s will, still in the large envelope, unopened. It had been several months since I had killed her in self-defense, and I still carried the guilt. Friends and family kept reminding me that I had done the right thing. If I hadn’t shot her, she would have killed not only me, but T.J. and an FBI agent, Richard Hopkins. Maybe the guilt wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the fact that Debra was also my half-aunt.