A Wish Before Dying - Part 3
“Are you hero or villain in this, Vangie?” she asked as she pulled out a seat across from me.
Seven
Arms propped on the table and a steaming mug of coffee between both palms, I waited patiently for Eva Lipton. Finally, after giving some instructions to two uniformed cops, her booted feet approached me. I stared into the creamy cup, rocking it so that little bubbles swirled round and round.
“Are you hero or villain in this, Vangie?” she asked as she pulled out a seat across from me.
The hospital cafeteria was mostly empty, with just a few staff members on the far end getting an early breakfast. It was just past dawn and since I’d broken one of the cardinal rules about police investigations, I knew I was in for a dressing down.
What cardinal rule? I’d left the scene before talking to the police. That rule. Their ego just couldn’t handle it. It was tantamount to giving them the brush off.
“I didn’t set the fire. You can check the CCTV behind my shop. I wouldn’t have had time to get over there, set the fire, then call 9-1-1.”
“What were you doing there?”
I chewed my tongue a minute, stared at the coffee a little more, then took a swallow. “A friend asked me to get in touch with Al Monroe. He thought he was in some sort of trouble. Obviously, he was.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“My friend didn’t know. Or at least I don’t think he did. But I’ve pieced together a few things.”
“So, spill it. I don’t have the time or patience, so spill it fast so I can get home and get some sleep.”
I licked my lips and sat up, “I need you to promise me something.”
She dropped her head to the side and smiled wryly at me, “Vangie, you know cops well enough to know that we don’t make deals. If you’re involved in some…”
I put my hand up. “I’m not involved. I’m telling you the truth. And I’ll tell you the entire thing, but I want a favor.”
“What’s the favor?”
“It won’t break any laws. This isn’t about whether someone is guilty or innocent. I figure only a jury can decide that.”
She snorted, and I assumed she had the same jaundiced impression of juries that my ex-husband had. That wasn’t important now, “My friend is Richard Saxe. And everything I did tonight is a favor to him.”
“The hit and run?”
Nodding, “That’s him. And for some reason, he named me as an emergency contact on his hospital forms and that means I’ve been handed the news that he doesn’t have long to live. Not long at all.”
She looked down at her hands, then picked up her pen and tapped it on the table. “They told me. Cancer.”
“Well, he has one wish before he goes, and I want him to get that wish. It’s Christmas and he won’t see another, so this year he needs to get the one thing he wants.”
“And that is?”
“His son. He wants to know his son. And his son just happens to be Al Monroe.”
She let out a whispered expletive and closed her eyes for a minute. After a beat, she fixed her gaze on me. “How deep is he into all of this?”
“Well, for one, his truck is the one that hit Saxe. But Saxe doesn’t want him prosecuted. It was an accident. Just an accident.”
“An accident?” she said so loudly some of the cafeteria patrons raised their heads and stared in our direction, “He hit the man and left him for dead. That’s a hit-and-run. That’s a felony in this state, Vangie.”
I pushed my mug away. “Listen, Eva. You do what you have to do. I’m giving you the story, the details. And I’m asking that no matter what it is you have to do for your darned job, that you at least give Saxe the chance to talk to his son. That’s all,” she started to retort, but I took a breath and kept going, “And as tired as you are, I can promise you I’m even more tired. I just spent all day on my feet selling books nonstop, then I got knocked out by some kind of ninja sleeper hold and maybe some kind of drug too—I’m not entirely sure—then just for grins I also hauled a grown man out of a burning house. It’s been a full day for me, Eva. So will you or won’t you do me this favor?”
She had the gall to chuckle, and I came very close to grabbing my cup of half-drunk coffee just so I could sling it into her face.
“And one more thing,” I pointed my finger at her, “Just how close do you and my ex-husband work with one another?”
That had an impact. Her cheeks pinked, and she slammed her mouth shut. Blinking a few times, she shook her head. “Guillory and I are strictly business.”
I laughed, “I don’t care if you are or aren’t. I just don’t really want this whole thing getting blabbed to him. My business is mine and his is his and I don’t want any crossover, got it?”
She picked up her pen again and scribbled on her notepad, “Listen, you don’t have to worry about that. I’m familiar with discretion and I know how to use it. Now let’s get back to Al Monroe. Finish the story. You have my word that as soon as he’s cleared by hospital staff, he can go spend time with his dad. Satisfied?”
I moved my head up and down, then gave myself a minute to settle down. “So I tracked Al Monroe down at the Bad Glad Icehouse. He apparently is cozy with some singer there. Jolene Barker is her name.”
Eva rubbed her fingers on her eyebrow. “You know she’s in with Wills, right? Webster Wills?”
“I figured that out. And I could be wrong, but I don’t think Al knew that. He was all gaga-eyed for her. She convinced him to go out to Tanner’s Bayou and recover some package of drugs…”
“At Tanner’s Bayou?” she sat up and stomped her feet on the floor. “We looked for that stash over six months ago and couldn’t find a trace of it.”
I shrugged. “My guess is she knew exactly where to tell him to dive for it. I overheard them and he was supposed to get it, then she was going to deliver it to someone, I have no idea who, then they were going to run away together,” I paused and recalled that look on her face when Al had mentioned a new life, “Honestly, I don’t think she was really going to go away with him. She didn’t look like a girl planning to run. She looked like a girl who was playing a game and enjoying every minute of it.”
“So you said something about being drugged? Tell me about that part.”
I explained about my following Al to Tanner’s Bayou and how I’d been knocked out. She didn’t seem surprised by my assessment that I’d been drugged, but she certainly appeared past the point of annoyance that I’d gotten myself into the situation overall. “You know you could have gotten yourself killed, right?”
I shrugged.
“Ever hear of Needles McCasland?”
I squinted. “The guy who used a sedative to knock people out so he could rob them? I thought he went to prison.”
“He got out last year.”
“The hospital found evidence Al Monroe was given an injection. That’s probably how he was made unconscious. Best guess is he was supposed to die in the fire. I imagine if they look they’d find a mark on you somewhere too.”
“Wait!” I leaned forward. “What does McCasland look like? I have a vague recollection from the headlines but…”
She pulled out her phone, scrolled it a few times with the pad of her finger, then held it out to show his mugshot. After a second, she swiped and there was a photo of him in the courtroom. In both images, the man in the picture had piercing black eyes and dark hair pulled up in a topknot. In the courtroom photo, his sparkling star earring was clearly evident.
“I knew I recognized him. He was with Webster last night at the Icehouse. And when I pulled Al Monroe from the fire, I saw that earring on the floor near his recliner. If you’re lucky you can find it there.”
She grinned and pulled the phone back to study the picture, “Well, well, that’s interesting. Maybe we can finally pin something on Webster Wills after all.”
I rubbed at my tired eyes and stood up, “So do you think we might be able to wrap this up? I have a bed at home with my name written all over it.”
“Not yet,” she too got to her feet, “I want you checked out by someone.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“It’s not optional either. I want to be sure you’re okay after inhaling all of that smoke, plus I want to know if you were given an injection. You know how we cops are about evidence.”
I knew that and I knew there was no point arguing. About an hour later I was finally given a clean bill of health by the doctor. Before leaving the hospital I decided to check in on Saxe.
As I approached his room, I heard voices. Slowly, I pushed the door open a crack and saw my old friend sitting up in bed, a tremendous smile on his face. He still looked bruised and battered, but the jubilant expression made all of that seem a little less severe. Sitting next to him was Al Monroe. The younger man was gesticulating as he told some sort of story. For just a split second, his eyes met mine, but I shook my head, and smiled as I eased the door closed again.
They didn’t need me to interrupt their bonding. A warm feeling settled in my chest as my lips lifted in a big grin. I didn’t hear her come up behind me, but Eva Lipton slapped a hand on my shoulder as she made her way down the hallway past me.
“Merry Christmas, Vangie.”
I nodded as I turned to go in the opposite direction. It really felt like a merry Christmas. Maybe the first one I’d had in a very long time.
Epilogue
I never wasted a pair of LulaRoes. Never. Even though the leggings I had on now were worn in the inner thigh area, I’d managed to whipstitch them enough so that they made good loungewear for home. And today’s pair were festive too, with little candy canes on them, so that was a plus.
I carried a mug of hot cocoa to the couch—the good kind made with chocolate chips, milk and heavy cream—set it down, then stretched out with my computer on my lap. After taking a slurp of the chocolate, I tapped the browser on my computer and pulled up The Mystery Book Nook Forum page.
I’d never created my own account on the forum. To me, it had always been just a tactic to bring in money and potential customers. In the week after helping Saxe connect with Al Monroe, I’d thought about how the forum had helped him collect clues to track down his son. Maybe there was something to the method.
I hesitated a moment as I stared at the blinking “Sign Up Today” button. My eyes slid to the far corner of the living room. The space to the right of my tall bookshelf of knick-knacks and photos was empty. In years past there would have been an enormous Christmas tree cluttered with mementos and the kids’ homemade ornaments. This year, just like the last few years before, the tree was still stuffed in the attic.
I told myself it was too much trouble to lug it down by myself. Decorate it by myself. After all, no one would be by to see it, even if I had put it up.
I inhaled a shuddering breath, then turned back to the computer. I clicked the button, created my login and password, then stared for a few more minutes at the blank screen. Saxe’s forum page had been cluttered with folders and resources.
I slid the cursor to the “Create Folder” button, then named it. R-O-N-I-N.
Slamming the laptop closed, I pushed it off my lap and picked up my mug. As I cradled the steaming cup to my chest, I decided this idea had been silly. After all, the forum was just for fun, a game for people who liked to read mysteries and imagine they might solve them. And that was all this idea was. A figment of my imagination. I wasn’t an investigator like those in my family.
I was just a woman sitting at home alone on Christmas. Taking another sip, I set the mug aside and picked up my phone. Regina’s number was on the quick dial, so I pushed the button and waited for her to answer.
Hey, you know what to do. I’ll call you back soon!
Licking my lips, I forced a smile to my face, “Hey baby, it’s Mom. Just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas. I guess maybe it’s early there, huh? How’s the weather? Is there snow? Well, I hope you’re having fun. I love you.”
Clicking the end button, I glared over at the tossed-aside laptop with narrowed eyes.
Even if it were just a game, what harm would it do? It isn’t like I have anything else pressing to do on Christmas Day. Shaking my head with a shrug, I picked it back up and logged into The Mystery Book Nook Forum and created another folder: Things I Know About Ronin.
Note from the Author:
A few years ago in connection with our launch of The Mystery Book Nook Facebook Group , my author friends and I ran a contest to “become a character.” Our winner Erin created a fictional version of herself as “Erin McCarthy” and I can’t tell you how much I’ve enjoyed writing her into this story.
If you love mysteries, you’ll want to join our group.
Read NO GOOD DEED UNPUNISHED next…
Summertime, suicide, and secrets…
The mid-year slump is about to turn into a nosedive for Vangie Guillory’s bookstore. To keep The Mystery Book Nook firmly out of the red, she needs an influx of funds to bolster sales, but how can she make that happen with revenue at little more than a trickle?
Lucky for Vangie, the town gossip has dropped the perfect opportunity into her lap. A local attorney’s suicide has revealed a treasure trove of books, including some collectors’ editions, and the estate hires Vangie to inventory and market them. The fee for her services is just what she’s looking for, but when Vangie’s heartbreaking past and overactive imagination collide, she begins to suspect the attorney’s death might not have been by his own hand.
It's hard to know whose secrets are more dangerous: Vangie’s or the dead attorney's. But one thing is clear… no good deed goes unpunished.