Authors: Erika Chase
Chapter Thirty-eight
I wanted to know. I didn’t want to know.
LIE DOWN WITH THE DEVIL
—LINDA BARNES
O
n her way back from her morning run, Lizzie let her mind wander through all she still
had to do in preparation for Christmas. She was so deep in thought she almost missed
the movement on Nathaniel’s front porch as she passed by.
She glanced over in time to see Nathaniel, in his bathrobe, in conversation with a
well-groomed gray-haired woman. It looked like they were saying good-bye. Lizzie noticed
the silver Prius next. The same Prius she’d seen so many times lately parked in his
driveway.
She almost tripped and focused on the sidewalk until she turned into her driveway.
She tried to watch the tableau without appearing to stare but knew she’d failed when
Nathaniel looked over at her and, after a few seconds, gave her a slight wave. She
waved back and ducked into the house.
Why did she feel like she’d just been privy to something? She shrugged it off and
did some stretches before mixing a protein shake. The front doorbell rang after she’d
showered and was looking for some breakfast ideas in the fridge.
She opened the door to Nathaniel. He looked sheepish and handed her a plate of freshly
baked buttermilk scones.
“I thought we might enjoy these. Do you have a cup of coffee to go with them?”
Lizzie nodded and led the way into the kitchen. “These smell delicious. I’m sure glad
I had a long run this morning.” Oops, she mentioned it. Now it was his turn.
He cleared his throat. “Yes, I saw you coming back. And I imagine you saw Lavenia
and me taking our leave of each other.”
Lizzie looked at him.
So formal. So sweet.
She nodded.
“Ahem. Well, you see, we’ve become quite fond of each other. I’m not quite sure how
it happened but there it is.” He looked helpless.
Lizzie smiled. “Where did you meet her?”
“We met at the public library. We both attended a talk entitled “New Perennials Being
Introduced to the Region” last month. We sat next to each other and started talking
and, well, it’s just so nice to have a woman back in my life. And I don’t mean any
disrespect to Charlaine. She’ll always be my special love. But, you know, I’ve been
lonely.”
Lizzie set his cup of coffee in front of him and added a dish of butter next to the
scones. “I think that’s just wonderful, Nathaniel.”
“You do?”
“Of course. You’re a real catch, you know. And you should have someone in your life.
Now, I hope she appreciates your baking.”
He chuckled. “Oh yes, and she has some very good recipes up her sleeve, also.”
His chuckle turned into something more conspiratorial and Lizzie actually blushed.
“What are your Christmas plans, Nathaniel?”
“Well, I was going to drive down to Naples to spend a few days with my daughter. In
fact, I still might. Lavenia is supposed to visit her son and his family in Boston.
So, we’ll probably just continue with our plans. You’ll be spending it with your mama
and Molly?”
Lizzie nodded.
Nathaniel looked at the clock. “Speaking of which, I have some errands to run. Got
to buy some stocking stuffers, you know. I’ll leave around noon tomorrow. I’ll pop
around to say good-bye.”
“Good. I want to give you your present.”
He chuckled. “Ah-hah . . . I look forward to that.”
Lizzie set about vacuuming the main floor after he left and had just put the machine
away when the doorbell rang again. This time it was Andie on her doorstep.
She bounced in and Lizzie felt relieved. She’d been hoping Andie’s spirits would lift
as soon as exams were over.
“I think I might have passed everything, Lizzie. Not aced but at least passed,” Andie
said jubilantly.
“That’s great. You’ve worked hard so you deserve to pass. What do you have planned
for your holidays?”
Andie shrugged and eyed the plate of scones and looked back at Lizzie. Lizzie nodded
and Andie chose the largest one, opening it to slather butter inside. She took a huge
bite and collapsed in the chair.
“Would you like a tea?”
Andie shook her head then reconsidered. “Do you have any cola?”
“No, but I have acai juice.”
Andie scrunched up her nose. “No thanks, water will do.”
Lizzie poured a glass for her and sat across the table. “What do you usually do on
Christmas Day?”
“Oh, my folks sleep late, we open presents, and then go to the country club for turkey
dinner. Only this year, they’re flying to Nassau for a few days.”
“And you’re not going with them?” Lizzie was shocked.
“Nope. I can’t stand the thought of a beachy Christmas and they don’t really want
me with them in their ‘exotic locale.’” She made a face. “It’s okay. I’m staying at
Gussy Gilbert’s. There’s just her and her mama so I can bunk in the spare room. It’ll
be okay.” She snagged another scone.
Lizzie tried to read Andie. The cool exterior was so nonchalant, but she knew Andie
was a deeply emotional girl. She’d like to have a long talk with Mr. and Mrs. Mason
but knew it wasn’t her place nor was it likely to do any good. They made sure she
had the essentials, even special tutoring when her grades hovered at the failing mark.
But it seemed to end there. Not a warm, loving family.
“Why don’t you come over to Molly’s in the afternoon for Christmas dinner? Do you
think Gussy and her mama would mind? I’ll be there, and Stephanie and Bob. And Chief
Dreyfus. Molly makes a turkey dinner that’s to die for.”
Lizzie saw Andie was tempted. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as
she struggled to remain cool. “I’ll have to check with Mrs. Gilbert first. They’re
kinda expecting me.”
“Okay.” Lizzie wondered if Molly might stretch the table to include Gussy and her
mama. She’d be sure to ask.
* * *
L
izzie was the first to arrive at the book club Christmas party. Molly took a minute
from arranging the trays of goodies she’d baked to relieve Lizzie of the wine and
cake she carried in. Then she gave Lizzie a big hug.
“I thought everyone would enjoy this French croissant. I found it in a Wolfgang Puck
recipe book and just had to try it out. Taste one, tell me what you think, honey.”
Lizzie bit into the flaky texture and sighed. “Heavenly.”
Molly’s smile lit up her face. She was wearing a stunning cream-colored silk cheongsam
with orange and gold Chinese embroidery. Lizzie felt frumpy beside her, even though
she’d thought she’d looked festive in a red silk tunic with black leather and rayon
leggings.
Molly watched Lizzie taking in her outfit. “Oh, don’t you go worrying none, honey.
I’m just having some fun here. This is the final one of my armchair travel outfits,
and I thought this was the perfect night to wear it.”
The others arrived almost as a group. Everyone was dressed for Christmas; even Andie
had ditched her usual torn jeans and black T for a lime green cotton blouse and, from
the look of it, brand-new jeans. At least there were no holes in the jeans. She looked
as excited as a small child.
It didn’t take long for the food and wine to flow. Lizzie noticed that Bob seemed
to be sticking very close to Molly and that she wasn’t objecting. Stephanie chose
a solid-backed chair and stayed put except for numerous visits to the powder room
off the library.
Sally-Jo looked more relaxed than Lizzie had seen her in a few weeks. With her family
arriving the next day, that was a surprise. Jacob hovered around her so maybe that
accounted for it.
Lizzie thought fleetingly about Mark, wondering if he were still at work. She hadn’t
heard from him all day and had decided not to bother him even though she was dying
to know if he’d made any progress. She’d had to leave a message when she made her
five
P.M.
check-in call.
As if reading her mind, Bob asked, “What mischief have you been getting yourself into
lately?”
“No mischief. I gave Mark my word that I wouldn’t go questioning anyone else. And
I will keep it. I hope. But, there is another person on the suspect list that y’all
haven’t heard about yet.”
Jacob grunted. “I hope that means some have been eliminated.” He glanced at Sally-Jo.
“Derek has been blackmailing her for several years now. In fact, she’s the reason
he came to Ashton Corners,” Lizzie explained.
“Hah.” Bob slapped his knee. “Blackmail’s a top motive. And if it was worth paying
him off, it might have merited a murder, too. Do you know her? Do you think she could
have done it?”
“I don’t know her that well but she doesn’t strike me as being a cold-blooded killer.”
“Does she have an alibi?” Jacob asked.
“No, like most of the suspects.”
“Why was he blackmailing her?” Stephanie asked. She looked exhausted but in a party
mood, wearing a tight-fitting white stretch T, green pants and a white scarf with
tiny Santa Claus and reindeer patterns all over it.
Once again, Lizzie wondered how much to share. She felt strangely at odds talking
about others’ secrets and yet, those secrets could have led to murder. She explained
as briefly as possible.
Bob whistled. “That’s pretty serious, I’d say.”
“I sure hope they catch the killer before Christmas,” Molly stated, passing around
the plate of shortbread. “It’s supposed to be a season of peace and goodwill.”
Lizzie nodded. “I sure hope so, too.” She was also hoping that Mark wouldn’t be distracted
by the investigation over the holidays.
The evening passed quickly with the highlight being the sharing of gifts. Lizzie loved
the pewter bookmark in the shape of a Siamese cat from Jacob, and Bob was pleased
with his miniature LED flashlight shaped like a fish, which made Lizzie feel that
the hour she had spent trying to decide on just the right gift had been well worth
it.
Lizzie was the last to leave. She felt exhausted even though Molly, forty years her
senior, looked like she was still raring to go. It pleased Lizzie to see this renewed
energy but it tired her out even more. She headed home and to bed.
* * *
B
y Friday afternoon, Lizzie was really getting into the spirit of the season. She knew
she should put all thoughts of the murder out of her mind until after the Christmas
weekend but she stopped by the station to tell Mark about solving the mystery of the
code names. He was standing at the front desk talking to a man when she entered. Mark
glanced at her and waited until the man had stopped talking before turning to Lizzie.
“Lizzie, this is Derek Alton’s agent and we’ve just been talking about his new book.
Lizzie Turner . . . Quentin Underhill.”
They shook hands and Lizzie was about to ask if he had the new manuscript when Mark
gave her a discreet shake of his head. Now she really wanted some answers but it looked
like Underhill was on his way out, so she decided to wait.
The short—well, shorter than her five-foot-eight—man looked to be in his forties,
with blond hair just touching the collar of his chartreuse shirt. She’d bet the color
was out of a bottle. He kept rocking back on his heels the entire time he said his
good-byes, which turned into a long speech about how much he appreciated the police
and all they were doing.
Lizzie could tell that Mark was doing his best to remain unperturbed. When Underhill
finally left, Mark let out a long sigh.
“That guy was really getting on my nerves. Just too slick, and that little end speech?”
The officer sitting at a computer behind him let out a chuckle.
Mark suddenly grinned. “Yeah, he was kinda funny. Come into my office and I’ll fill
you in.” He put his hand under Lizzie’s elbow and guided her into the inner sanctum
and then his office. He gave her arm a final squeeze before walking around his desk.
She sat opposite him. “So, give. What did he say about Derek’s book?”
“He confirmed that it was the sequel to
Judgment
and, from what Alton had told him, very explosive. More than a few people would not
be happy.”
“Wow. So, is Underhill a suspect?”
“I’d like him to be but he was in New York at the time, in a meeting with a publisher.”
“He could have hired a hit man.”
“I’d like to pin something on him but it won’t be murder. I’d say Alton was worth
a lot more to him alive than dead. He wasn’t a big enough name to drive sales up significantly
since his death and there was already a bidding war over this book, apparently. Now
that’s dead, so to speak, since there isn’t any book as yet.”
“Nothing?”
“Just some more notes, which his agent handed over. He indicated there wasn’t even
enough here in order to hire a ghostwriter to do the book.”
“That’s too bad, or really good, for someone. Well, you’ve got enough suspects already,
haven’t you?”
“You’ve got that right. What’s on your mind?”
“I’ve been going over this list of code words along with the names of women who’ve
asked about him or had some connection. I think I’ve matched them all now. Here, have
a look.”
She handed over the list and watched Mark’s face as he read it over.
“That’s good, Lizzie. I’ll go through Alton’s notes and see if anything matches or
indicates what he planned to write about them.” He glanced at the list again. “Xenia
Henshaw. For an ex, she’s sure turning up a lot. I got the results back on the cookie.
It was loaded with powdered OxyContin. That’s a pain-relieving opiate.”
“Do you think she’d planned to bring them to the book club, substitute hers for his
and, what, kill him?”
“Maybe not kill. But make him deathly ill, at the very least. I’m going to bring her
in and see how she explains this.” He pointed at the report.
“I’d love to be here when you do that.”
“Not going to happen, Lizzie. You’ve already done enough. I want you to leave the
rest to me.”
“You’re such a tough guy,” Lizzie said as she leaned across his desk and gave him
a quick kiss.