5 Death Catches A Killer Read online

Thirty minutes later, the three of us were sitting in a back booth at the café. I told Owen what was going on, as well as my thoughts on how to handle it. “You can’t be serious!” Jake said.

  “I am.”

  “It’s a suicide mission,” Owen said.

  “You don’t know that for sure.”

  “I forbid you to do it,” Jake said, sitting back in his chair.

  “You forbid me?”

  “Oh, dude, you shouldn’t have gone there,” Owen said, shaking his head.

  “You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do, Jacob Matthew Mathias. We aren’t married.”

  “And whose fault is that?”

  “This isn’t the time to have that same old discussion. Right now, I need to figure out what to do.”

  “What you need to do is call the FBI and tell them what she told you,” Owen said.

  “You’re assuming I’m going to tell them.”

  “Why wouldn’t you tell them, for crying out loud?” Jake said.

  “I have issues with the FBI.”

  “So what? You and I have our problems, but that doesn’t keep us from working together at the newspaper.”

  “It’s not the same thing and you know it.”

  “Look,” Owen said, cutting us off, “you need to be realistic about this, Lizzie. I don’t know what she expects you to do to help her, but you aren’t in law enforcement. You don’t even know how to fire a gun.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “The water gun at the carnival does not count.”

  “She asked me for help. I can’t turn my back on her.”

  “So you’re just going to fly off to God knows where, into a situation you know nothing about, to help a woman who is a murderer?”

  “What else am I supposed to do?”

  “You tell Hopkins about this and let him handle it,” Jake said.

  “For all you know this could be a total set up,” Owen pointed out. “Maybe she is doing this to get a hold of Amos Gardner’s estate.”

  “Killing me won’t put her any closer to inheriting it.”

  “Why not? Earline has been declared mentally incompetent,” Owen replied.

  “She didn’t inherit it, either.”

  “So who did?” Jake asked.

  “Babe.”

  “Your dog?”

  “Technically, she was Amos’ dog. He wanted to make sure she was well taken care of after he was gone. His will stipulated that none of the money be spent by Babe’s guardian for their personal use. Once Babe dies, the money goes to the Dallas County SPCA.”

  “Talk about eccentric,” Jake said, shaking his head.

  “Besides, Debra has her own money,” I said.

  “And we all know how she got that money,” Owen said, “which is why she is in the situation she is in right now. She probably double crossed someone.”

  “Another reason for you not to get in the middle of whatever problem she has right now,” Jake replied.

  I knew Debra was a hired killer, but I got the impression that she had a set of rules that she lived by, and double crossing someone was not on that list. At least, that was what I believed. But I’ve been wrong before.

  “I haven’t made a definite decision yet,” I said.

  “My guess is this box is from her. Looks like you’ll have to make that decision soon,” Jake said. “Either way, you are going to have to call Hopkins.”

  “I’m not Hopkins, but will I do?” a male voice said behind me.

  I turned around slowly. Standing behind me was the man who had betrayed me.

  “Hello, T.J.”

  Chapter 4

  I met T.J. Reynolds when my estranged grandfather Amos was killed last November. He had been hired by Owen as a new deputy - at least that was what I believed at the time. We didn’t get along at first, but we slowly got to know each other and began dating. Around the same time, I learned that Amos had been killed by Debra. Somehow, she managed to survive a high speed car chase and she disappeared.

  She came back a few months later to warn me that someone close to me was not who they appeared to be. Turned out she was talking about T.J., who was really FBI Agent Thomas Jefferson Roosevelt. He had been sticking close to me, hoping it would lead him to Debra. Well, in a way it did, although it nearly cost him his life. Luckily for him, I have a conscience. I couldn’t let Debra kill him, even though he was a weasel who had used me as bait. Okay, I won’t keep going, because I am liable to say a few choice things that would normally get my mouth washed out with soap if my mother was in town. Let’s just say I saved his life and got shot in the leg in the process. The next day, he disappeared and I hadn’t seen him since. Until now.

  “Good to see you,” Owen said, shaking T.J.’s hand. “How are you doing?”

  “Staying busy. You?”

  “Lizzie keeps finding dead bodies so I’ll have something to do.”

  T.J. looked at me. “Really? You don’t have enough to do running the newspaper?”

  “I handle most of the day to day stuff,” Jake said. “That way she can do what she really loves to do, which is write.”

  “Sounds like she has been doing more than writing,” T.J. replied. “What do you need to contact the FBI about?”

  “Nothing,” I said, grabbing my purse and the package to leave. “I need to go. I need to check on Mother’s house.”

  “Actually, I need to talk to you,” T.J. said.

  “I’m not interested in anything you have to say.”

  “Debra Cosgrove.”

  “What about her? I haven’t seen her since she tried to kill you in that barn.”

  “She’s been off the radar since her escape from the hospital. But we have received some intel that leads me to believe she is going to reach out for help soon.”

  “And you want my permission to bug my house in case she calls me?” I said sarcastically. “Why ask? You didn’t the last time.”

  “Lizzie,” Jake said.

  “What? What do you expect me to say? I told him then, I’m telling him now: I’m not going to help him catch her.” I stood up. “If you will excuse me, I have other things to do.”

  “What about saving her life?” he said as I walked off.

  I stopped and turned around. “Excuse me?”

  “Would you help save her life?”

  Jake and Owen looked at me. “Maybe you should hear him out, Lizzie,” Owen suggested. Sighing, I walked back to the table and sat down.

  “About a month ago, one of our confidential informants told us they had been approached by an unnamed party, who wanted to find a contract killer for an important job. When our C.I. mentioned Debra’s name, the person said she was the target.”

  Guess she had been right when she told me someone was trying to kill her. “What do you care? You’ve been trying to catch her for months. If the information is correct, you won’t have to worry about finding her.”

  “We want her alive, not dead.”

  “Why? She’ll get the death sentence anyway. This way, you’ll save the government a lot of money.”

  T.J. sighed. “We want her to provide information about the people she worked for.”

  “Good luck with that,” I scoffed. “I get the feeling that she does have a set of ethics, even if they are a bit warped.”

  “How reliable is this information?” Jake said.

  “Very,” T.J. replied.

  “Then what do you want from Lizzie?”

  “Have you heard from her?”

  “Why would she get in touch with me? She knows you have my house bugged.”

  “Had. We removed them all.”

  “Am I obligated to tell you if I’ve heard from her?”

  “You could be charged with obstruction of justice.”

  “Is that how you get people to cooperate with you? By threatening to throw them in jail?”

  “Only the hard-headed cases.”

  I stood up again. “I do not believe we have anything else to
say to each other, Agent Roosevelt. Any further communication can be done through my lawyer.”

  “So you’re admitting you’ve heard from her?”

  “I’m saying I don’t want to talk to you ever again.”

  Chapter 5

  Jake caught up to me as I opened the truck door. “Whoa, hold on. You can’t threaten a federal agent with lawyers and expect to get away with it.”

  “What threat? I told him to talk to my lawyer. If he sees that as a threat, he’s stupid,” I said, throwing my purse and the package onto the seat. “Besides, what he is doing is harassment.”

  “He asked for your help. He’s just doing his job.”

  “I’ve heard that song and dance before, Jake.”

  “The impression I got was he regretted that part of his job.”

  “Well, boo hoo, let’s all cry for the FBI agent who doesn’t like his job.”

  “Look, you have a choice to make here. Either you tell him Debra called you…or I will.”

  “You wouldn’t dare!”

  “Yes, I would. She’s a dangerous woman who has equally dangerous people after her. They want to kill her. I don’t want you caught in the middle.”

  “If I tell him, I’m betraying her.”

  “Good grief, woman!” Jake said, exasperated. “Listen to yourself! You’re talking about her like she was some beloved family member. You barely know her. She’s tried to kill you at least twice, and you ended up with a hole in your leg the last time you tangled with her. This time, you could end up with a hole in your head, and you can’t hang a diamond earring from that kind of hole.”

  “Ha ha, very funny.”

  “Just talk to him.”

  “I don’t know any more than he does!”

  “So tell him that!”

  “Tell me what?” T.J. said, coming up behind me.

  “Geez, would you stop sneaking up on me!” I said. “I hate that.”

  “Sorry. What do you want to tell me?”

  I glanced at Jake, who glared back at me. “Debra called me a couple of weeks ago, asking for help.”

  “Did she say why?”

  “She said she thought someone was trying to kill her.”

  “Any idea where she was calling from?” I shook my head. “Anything else you can tell me?”

  “Nope.”

  “Tell him the rest,” Jake said.

  I wanted to punch him. “I heard what sounded like a gunshot.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “No, I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I said ‘sounded like’. I’m not an expert on these things.”

  “Did she say anything after that?”

  “No.”

  “Not much to go on,” T.J. said.

  “I didn’t know I was supposed to solve the whole case for you. I’ll try to do better next time.”

  “If she gets in contact with you again, please call me,” T.J. said, handing me one of his business cards.

  “I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you,” I muttered quietly. Jake kicked me in the shin.

  “Could we have dinner sometime?”

  “Why?”

  “To talk.”

  “I think we covered everything during the ambulance ride a couple of months ago.”

  His phone rang, thankfully stopping the conversation. “I’m sorry, I have to take this.”

  I watched him move away. “Why didn’t you tell him about the box?” Jake said.

  “I don’t know for sure it’s from her.”

  “Because you won’t open it!” he said. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Lizzie.”

  “I’m not doing anything. I told him what he wanted to hear, and I promised her nothing. I have no intention of getting caught in the middle of their little games.”

  “A little late for that, don’t you think?” he said before he walked off.

  I hate it when he’s right.

  Chapter 6

  “Let me get this straight,” Trixie Greene, my best friend, said as we sat in her living room eating ice cream. “Dale is back in town, your mom has eloped with a total stranger, you got a mysterious box, and basically told T.J. to get bent. Am I pretty close?”

  “That pretty much covers it,” I replied, taking a bite of my chocolate chip ice cream.

  “Gee, other than that, how was your day, dear?”

  “Very funny.”

  “If you want my opinion, I agree with Jake and Owen. You need to stay out of this and let the authorities handle it. I don’t want a dead best friend.”

  “I don’t plan on crossing over any time soon.”

  Trixie picked up the box, which was sitting on the coffee table, and shook it. “I don’t hear anything ticking.”

  “If she wants my help, I doubt she would send me a bomb. And if she did, then we probably have a few seconds left before it blows up.”

  Trixie threw the box across the room, and it bounced off the wall, landing in front of her flat screen TV. We stared at the box for a couple of minutes, but nothing happened. “Well, we can check ‘explosive device’ off the list,” she said, getting up to retrieve the box. She tossed it on the couch cushion next to me. “I think it’s safe to open it.”

  I glanced at it as I took another bite of ice cream. “If I open it, I am committing myself to helping her.”

  “Think of yourself as a CEO being approached with a new idea: you will entertain the possibilities with the option to decline at any time.”

  “I don’t think she sees things that way, Trix,” I replied, scrapping the last of the chocolate chip ice cream out of the bowl. “You’re either all in or get the bleep out of the way.”

  Trixie glanced at the box again. “While I agree with the guys, my curiosity is getting the best of me. Open it.”

  “I’m not going to open it just because you’re dying to know what’s inside.”

  “I’m not ‘dying to know’. I just ‘want to know’,” she said, grabbing the box and ripping it open.

  “Oh good grief! It’s like Christmas all over again!”

  She stuck her tongue out at me before turning the box upside down. A smaller box and a piece of paper fell out. “Well, poop. This is disappointing.”

  “What did you think was going to be in there, an AK-47?” I said, picking up the small box.

  Trixie looked at the piece of paper. “It says ‘Go to the Brookdale bank, vault box 88.’ What does that mean?” she said, looking up.

  I held up a safe deposit key. “Does this answer your question?”

  “I wonder what’s in the box.”

  I thought about it for a minute. “If she’s trying to get out of the country, maybe she put something away to help her escape. She lived here for what, two years, when she was working for you?”

  Trixie shrugged. “I never asked her where she lived. I just assumed it was here in town.”

  “Well, there has to be an address on her W-2 forms.”

  “Give me a minute,” she replied. She left the room for a few minutes, and came back with a folder in her hand. “The address she gave me is 243 Magnolia Lane.”

  “That’s my mother’s address!” I said, snatching the folder from her. “Why did she claim that as her own?”

  “Wow, I never made the connection,” Trixie said, shaking her head. “Debra handled the books for me once in a while. Do you think she might have stolen some money from me?”

  “No, she didn’t need the money. Did she take a lot of time off?”

  “No more than anyone else.”

  Absentmindedly, I twirled an auburn strand of hair in my fingers. “How did she manage to live here two years without anyone knowing about her other life?”

  “Because she looked normal like the rest of us.”

  “Killing people for a living is not normal, Trix.”

  “Maybe she decided to take a break for a while.”

  “Then why come to Brookdale? With all the money she has to have, she could have gone anywhere in the world.”
<
br />   “Well, her mother did live near here, and she was dying of cancer. Debra probably came here to take care of her.”

  “During which time, they hatched the murder of Amos.”

  “Even cold-blooded killers need to keep their hand in the business, so to speak.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  Trixie picked up the key. “So what are you going to do about this?”

  I took it from her and looked at it. What else could I do?

  I was going to open that box.

  Did you really expect me not to?

  Chapter 7 - Friday

  The next morning, I drove Amos’ old truck, now painted purple (instead of that hideous pistachio color) thanks to Jake, to the town square, parking near Delia’s Bakery. As I got out, Delia Strange, the owner of the bakery, stepped outside to greet me. “Is it true?” she asked, giving me a hug.

  “Is what true?”

  “That you’re getting married!”

  “Me?! Where did you hear that?”

  “Over at the café last night.”

  I shook my head and laughed. “I’m not getting married, Delia.”

  “Oh,” she said, pouting a bit.

  “My mother is the one that got married. She eloped and is currently on her honeymoon cruise.”

  “How wonderful! She’s been alone a long time.”

  I nodded in agreement. My father, Alford Crenshaw, passed away while I was in high school. He had gone to New York on business, and had been pushed onto the subway tracks by a deranged homeless man. You can guess what happened.

  “We should plan a wedding reception for them.”

  I mentally slapped my forehead and wondered why I hadn’t thought of that last night. “That is a great idea, Delia! I’m not sure when she is coming home, but as soon as I find out, we can get together to work out the details.”

  Delia smiled. “It’s been a while since I have made a wedding cake. This is going to be so much fun!”

  I followed her inside as she continued to talk about the reception and placed an order for a variety of muffins for Monday’s staff meeting at the newspaper. After paying for them, I headed for the Eat it or Starve Café for some breakfast.

  As I walked in, all eyes turned and looked at me. “It’s the blushing bride!” someone said, and everyone started to clap.