A Body to Spare (The Odelia Grey Mysteries) (23 page)

twenty-six

The address Lisa had
given us had us going south on the 405, then east on the 133 to where it joined with the 241. Because it was a Sunday and the weather iffy, traffic had been light and we made good time. “Slow down, honey,” I said to Greg as I read the directions on the scrap of paper in my hands. “She said to take the first turn on the right. She didn’t give it a name, so who knows if it’s a real street.”

We didn’t need to look hard to find it. Shortly after rounding a sharp bend in the road, we spotted John Swayze up ahead waiting for us. When he saw the van, he started directing us to pull in with his bandaged hand like we were parking at a sporting event. All he needed was an orange vest to complete the look—that and to lose the gun he was holding in his uninjured hand.

“Should I hit him with the van?” Greg asked as we pulled from the street onto a wide paved drive.

“If Mom’s life wasn’t at stake, I’d say go for it.”

As we neared Swayze, he indicated for us to stop. Greg lowered his window. “Pull in behind that building, turn off the engine, and leave the keys in the van,” Swayze directed. He took one step forward and glanced behind Greg. “Where’s the dog?”

“We left him at home,” Greg answered.

“Good,” Swayze said, “or else I’d have shot him.”

Greg started to make a move, but I put a hand on his arm to calm him down.

“Listen to your wife, hot wheels,” Swayze told him.

Hot wheels.
That’s what my mother often called Greg, especially when she was annoyed with him. I made a silent wish that I’d get to hear her call him that again.

The building in front of us was tall and long and had three very wide, high garage doors running across it. Greg moved the van slowly around the corner of the building and pulled in near a partially open back door with a yellow light burning over the entry. He cut the engine. It looked like the building was a concrete square, with this side as wide as the front with the garage doors. It was only midafternoon, but with the gray skies it felt later. The saffron light cast the only welcoming warmth.

Swayze caught up with us and glanced in at me. “Leave your purse but bring your phones.” He grinned, showing crooked bottom teeth. He pointed the gun at Greg, and my heart nearly stopped. “You first. Nice and easy.”

Swayze backed up and kept the gun trained on Greg as he slowly opened his door and reached behind his seat to grab his wheelchair. With an ease I’d seen thousands of times, he unfolded it and swung his butt into the seat. Keeping a safe distance from my agile husband, Swayze glanced at me. “Okay, Odelia, now you. Get out and come around the front of the van nice and slow. Pull anything stupid and I’ll shoot Greg.”

He didn’t have to add please for me to do exactly what he asked. Greg had been shot several months before, and I didn’t want a repeat of that situation. I eased out of the van, leaving my bag behind as ordered, and made my way around the front of it to stand next to Greg.

Waving the gun in the direction of the yellow light, Swayze indicated for us to head that way ahead of him. Fortunately for Greg, the parking lot was paved. If he’d gotten hung up on uneven terrain, I wouldn’t have trusted Swayze to be understanding. He seemed nervous and unstable, with a thin veneer of false bravado; not exactly the type of person who should be holding a gun. When we reached the door, I opened it wider and held it open for Greg to maneuver the lower edge and enter the building. I followed him in, with Swayze close behind.

Inside, the ceiling of the building was high, with open steel beams. It was an industrial garage of some kind. Whatever was stored behind the three huge rolling doors we saw in the front was behind a wall that ran the length of the building but not all the way to the roof. There was a large door in the wall, but it was closed. The side we were on was much more narrow. It contained an open work area with benches and tools along the walls. Across from us, on the opposite wall, was another garage door, but it was normal size. Next to it was one window covered with dirt, with a jagged chunk of glass missing from one of the lower corners. The concrete floor was stained with oil and grease, and in the center a small beige truck was up on blocks. The overhead lights were on in the place, making it as bright as day inside. I saw no sign of Lisa or my mother.

On the left-hand side, an office had been built with eight-foot walls. The longest section of the office had a glass window that looked out onto the work area, similar to Greg’s office. The lights were on inside there also, and it looked cramped and filled with filing cabinets.

“Where’s my mother?” I asked Swayze, trying to keep fear out of my voice. Next to me, Greg took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. I couldn’t tell if he was trying to comfort me or warn me. Maybe it was both.

“Don’t worry—you’ll see her soon enough,” Swayze said. “Though why you want her back is beyond me. She’s really annoying.”

Before anything more was said, the door to the office opened and out strode Lisa. Camouflage pants and a black long-sleeved tee shirt fit her small, tight frame as if personally tailored for her. On her feet were heavy boots. Her brown hair was cropped, leaving only an inch or two all over her head. In her hand was a gun. She looked like a military action figure come to life or a wood nymph gone bad.

“Odelia Grey,” she said with a smirk. “I never thought you’d be useful to me, but here you are.” She turned to Greg. “And this must be your husband. I’ve heard a lot about you from Mother, Greg. It’s good to finally meet you, though why a man of your talent is with this loser is beyond me.” Greg’s hand started to slip from mine as his anger rose. It was my turn to get a good grip and squeeze.

“Where’s my mother, Lisa?” I asked. I took several steps forward and Greg rolled alongside me, staying close by my side, until we were just a few feet from Lisa and near the front end of the disabled truck, which faced away from the door.

In response, Lisa stepped back into the office. A few seconds later, she brought out Mom. She was sitting in a rolling office chair and strapped down with duct tape, the same type of silver tape used to bind Zach’s body. Lisa gave the chair a big push in my direction. I dropped Greg’s hand and met Mom mid-roll, stopping the chair when it reached me. Swayze barked at Greg to stay where he was.

“Mom, are you okay?” I felt tears running down my face as I embraced her.

“I’m so sorry, Odelia,” Mom said, her own face streaked with tears. “I should have stayed put like you said, but that creep came to the gate and said Elaine sent him to take me somewhere safe.”

Of course
, I thought. Mom never would have gone off with a stranger, but Elaine was not a stranger any longer, and Mom trusted her after the meeting we’d had. Elaine had unwittingly led Lisa right to Mom, and Lisa had used Mom’s trust to lure her out. But why? The one answer I did have was that I knew for sure that Elaine Powers had nothing to do with our current situation; this was all on Lisa. I kissed Mom’s forehead to comfort her.

“Touching,” Lisa said with sarcasm as thick as marmalade. “Very touching. Fit for a Hallmark card.”

I looked up at Lisa. “You’re double-crossing Elaine Powers, aren’t you?” I stepped backward toward Greg and the truck, rolling Mom back with me. If we were going to die, we would die together. Swayze moved in closer, keeping watch on us.

Lisa laughed, but it was just a sound. Her lips remained an unemotional flesh-colored slash. Her eyes were dead as dry dirt. “It’s called expansion, Odelia. I’m tired of working for someone else. I want to be my own boss.” She looked at Greg. “I’m sure you know what I mean, Greg. You have your own business—a thriving one, I’m told.”

“You did the hit on Zach Finch and his sister, didn’t you?” I asked, keeping a hand on Mom’s shoulder as though she’d disappear if I let go.

“You’re half right, Odelia,” Lisa said. “I did take the job on the kid, but I didn’t do the sister. The job was for both, but the sister was out of town when the hit went down on Zach. The client didn’t know that when he set up the time frame. While we waited for her return, the client became difficult. He kept complaining about the way I disposed of Zach’s body.” She started making yakking signs with the hand not holding the gun. “Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. Bitch. You would have thought he was talking to some customer service center in New Delhi about his cable bill. So I told him the girl was out—the job was over. That’s something I learned from Elaine: never put up with bullshit from a client. He would have been taken care of last night if the police hadn’t pulled him in.” She leaned against a workbench.

Color me confused. Fehring had said they’d only brought in Alec Finch and that Glick had disappeared. Had Elaine been wrong? Was it really Alec Finch who had hired the hit on his own children? Or was Lisa making an assumption that the police also had Glick because she couldn’t locate him?

“I’m guessing,” Lisa continued, “that Zach’s good pal Nathan took Jean out himself.”

And there it was: the answer. It
was
Glick who had hired the hit.

“I don’t know exactly what went down all those years ago,” Lisa continued, “but I’ll bet she knew too much about it, and once she found out Zach was dead, she would probably go straight to the police and spill her guts. As I said, the original plan was to take them both out on the same day.”

“But why involve Odelia?” Greg asked. “You could have made the hit and gone on your merry way. Why turn it into a spectacle?”

For the first time, Lisa’s face split into a big smile. “Because after I took the job, I realized I could leverage it against Elaine.” She turned from Greg to me. “Elaine needs to retire. She’s gone soft—your relationship with her is proof of that. Our crew has dwindled to nearly nothing. When a member wants to leave and start a new life, Elaine is quietly helping her do it, even encouraging it, without the rest of us knowing about it until later. There was a time when Mother was feared all up and down the West Coast. Now new crews are coming into our territory without fear of retaliation.” She pushed off from the bench. “I’m the new Mother. I’m returning the crew to its former respect, with stronger and more dedicated soldiers.”

“You mean like dipshit Swayze here?” Greg asked.

In response, Swayze smacked Greg across the back of his head with his gun. Greg let out a sharp cry as his head jerked forward.

“No!” I cried.

Swayze looked at me. “Don’t worry—you’ll get yours later.”

Greg put a hand up to touch his head. When he withdrew it, his fingers were tipped with blood. “I’m okay, sweetheart,” he said, looking up at me, his eyes latching onto mine. They were steely and full of determination. I knew that look. He was gathering his strength and controlling it, making it work to his advantage. When the time was right, Greg would strike like a cobra. I only hoped the time was right before we were all dead.

I turned back to Lisa. “If you wanted to grab me, why didn’t Swayze do it when he was at my house?”

Lisa’s face turned from smug glee to dark and cloudy. “He was supposed to, but he wanted to get a trophy first,” she explained. “He’s a collector.” She spat the words out. “He decided to film you before he grabbed you.”

The hand on Mom’s shoulder started shaking at the thought that only Swayze’s ego had kept me from being taken from the safety of my home—or worse. Mom leaned her head to the side to touch my hand with it. It was the only part of her body she could move. According to Emma Whitecastle, my father had said that my mother would bring me comfort when I needed it. Was this that comfort? This small, sad gesture, stilted by duct tape? I looked down at my mother, taped up like a leaky pipe, and felt like a failure. I had gotten her dragged into this, and it was my job to get her out of it. I needed to stall for time to think. “What about the note on the body?” I asked. “What was its purpose?”

“The note on the body was my idea,” Swayze said with pride. “Just a creative touch. I got a great photo of that too.”

Lisa shook her head. “Another one who’s dumber than a box of rocks.” She shrugged. “But he’s family, so what can I do?”

“Family?” I turned to look from Swayze to Lisa. I saw no resemblance.

“First cousins,” she explained. “But he’s more like a brother since my parents raised him after his mother died and his dad took off. He’s been helping me with a few odd jobs since he moved here. He has a real talent for it as long as he doesn’t get too
creative
.” She emphasized the last word as she glared at Swayze.

I wondered about Lisa’s childhood. What kind of family turns out not one but two psychopaths?

“I still don’t understand why you need Odelia,” Greg said to Lisa. “Why not just take Elaine out and be done with it?”

Another sick smile raced across Lisa’s face. “Where’s the poetry in that, Greg?” Lisa took a couple of steps closer and smiled again. “John isn’t the only artist in the family.”

“I’m sure the police and the feds have gotten Glick to talk by now,” Greg said, “and they know it’s you and not Elaine who killed Zach.” I didn’t look at Greg. I didn’t want to give away that he was playing Lisa about Glick. I didn’t know his plan, but I was along for the ride.

“I doubt that,” Lisa said. “You see, when I contacted him, I let him believe I was Mother and that I had reconsidered the job. He thinks he hired her.”

“But you do a lot of the killing for her crew,” I noted. “It doesn’t matter who set the deal up.”

“I’m still in the dark about why the body was left in Odelia’s car,” Mom said.

“Good question, Mom,” I said, “unless it was to flush out Elaine all along, like the police first thought.”

“Yep,” Lisa confirmed. “I needed to get you involved, Odelia. I knew the more the police suspected you, the more likely Elaine would let down her guard to protect you.” She paused and shifted her stance. “I’ll admit, your mother wasn’t part of the plan. But after John screwed up at your house and you hit the road, I had to use your mother to bait you here. Now I’m using you to bait Elaine. Once we’re all together, you’ll all be out of my hair for good.” Lisa gave us another insane smile. “I promise it won’t hurt…too much.”