All Murders Final! (18 page)

Chapter 32

I ran past CJ, down the steps, and out of the building. It was snowing, and a fierce wind blew. I didn't have a coat or keys. I knew it wouldn't be long before one or both of them came after me. So I ran, slipping on ice patches, to Carol's shop. I burst in the door, freezing cold and covered with snow. Her entire class turned around and stared. I fled to her back room and heard Carol excuse herself.

“What's wrong?” she asked.

“Seth asked me to move in with him.”

Carol's jaw dropped. “What did you say? I'm guessing no, since you showed up here looking like you'd seen a ghost.”

“Let me finish,” I said. “CJ showed up right when Seth asked me. I had to get out of there.”

Carol burst out laughing.

“Really?” I asked her.

“I'm sorry.” She tried hard to look serious but laughed again.

I stared at her for a minute and laughed, too. I doubled over, I laughed so hard I cried. I straightened up. I couldn't decide if I was crying because I was laughing or if I was laughing to try to keep from sobbing.

“Take my keys,” Carol said.

“Are you sure?”

“Go to my house. I'll call you when I'm done. It shouldn't be more than an hour.”

“Thanks.”

“I'm parked in the back.” She found her keys and tossed them to me. “And take this coat. You'll freeze otherwise.”

* * *

I started Carol's SUV and hit the button for the seat warmers. The coat she'd given to me was thin wool, but purple and really cute—more for fashion than warmth but better than nothing. Instead of heading toward Great Road, where I could easily run into CJ or Seth, I turned right into the residential section of Ellington. I wended my way along back roads but decided against going to Carol's house. I didn't want to have to explain anything to Brad or have him call CJ, which, I was guessing, he would do. Brad and CJ were almost as good friends as Carol and I were.

I drove to Billerica and stopped at a family restaurant and bar. I slipped into a booth at the bar and ordered a Coke. The last thing I needed right now was alcohol, even as tempting as it sounded. The Celtics were playing the Knicks on a big-screen TV in the corner. It gave me something to think about instead of either the funniest or the most surreal moment of my life. I thought Seth and CJ might look at it differently. Both had texted and called, but I hadn't bothered to see what either had to say. If I weren't waiting for Carol to call, I'd turn the darn phone off.

My life had become a three-ring circus. CJ in one ring, Seth in another, and my stalker in a third. I was on a tightrope high above them, trying to stay balanced but wobbling seriously and at my peril. I had no safety net, and the wrong move could be my last. I wondered if I
should
get some rum to go with my Coke.

Thirty minutes into my wait, Seth slid into the booth across from me.

“How did you find me?” I wondered if he had some kind of tracking device.

“I drove around looking for Carol's SUV.”

“How did you know I'd have her car?”

“Yours was at home. So was Stella's. I heard the front door slam and knew you'd left the building. I stopped at DiNapoli's, but you weren't there. I figured you must have gone to Carol. She denied seeing you, but I could tell she was lying.”

I narrowed my eyes. “But how do you know what kind of car she drives?”

Seth smiled. “It's hard to miss a vanity plate that says ‘Paint,' with a holder that says ‘Paint and Wine.' And you mentioned this place to me once. That narrowed down my places to look. I figured Gillganins was too obvious, and Lowell too far. Some place familiar would be more comforting if you were upset.”

No wonder he was such a successful lawyer.

“I withdraw my suggestion that you move in,” he said.

“What if I was going to say yes?”

“Were you?”

“No.”

“I played my hand too soon.” He smiled as he said it.

“Dealt too early.”

“I laid all my cards out on the table before I should have.”

We were both grinning. And this took me back to my whole dilemma with Seth and CJ. I had so much fun with Seth. I liked him. A lot. But CJ and I had a history, a deep love that had been twisted by a sadistic young twit. We hadn't been able to recover, since neither of us was ever on the same page at the same time. And we had a problem with trust. At least I did.

“You okay?” Seth asked. “Your smile left, and then you seemed to, too.”

I nodded. “What happened after I left?”

“There was a little yelling. A lot of yelling. Until Stella stomped up the stairs, with Awesome at her heels, to find out what was going on. She told us to quit thinking about ourselves and to think about you. So we both left. Stella locked up for you.”

“It must be awkward for you two to have to work together.”

“It can be, but so far we've both been able to put that aside and remain professional.”

“So far?”

“I think CJ was pretty close to decking me tonight.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It's not your fault. I'd have wanted to do the same if the situation was reversed.”

I wasn't sure that was true. If I'd just cut Seth out of my life as soon as I realized who he was, none of us would be in this mess. “Thanks for coming by, but I just need to think through things.”

“Okay.” He stood, but instead of leaving, he pulled me out of my booth and into his arms. He kissed my hair, then let me go. “Take care.”

* * *

I sat across from Carol in her now empty shop. We each had a glass of Merlot. I could drink now that I didn't have to drive. “How'd the class go?”

“It was a fun group. A fiftieth birthday party and they picked a row of wine bottles to paint. My favorite part of doing this is seeing how excited everyone is at the end, when they've finished their own painting. Although, the guest of honor drank so much, we dubbed her painting
Wine Bottles in Abstract
. Did I tell you I'm starting a new after-school kids' club?”

“That's a great idea.”

“How did your evening go? I take it you didn't go to my house.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I talked to Brad. CJ was there.”

Busted.
“That's exactly why I didn't go over.” I took a drink of my wine. “I went to that little family bar and restaurant in Billerica. Seth showed up.”

“What? How?”

“He used that lawyer brain to track me down.”

“Pretty impressive.” Carol's face belied her words. Even though she'd been on my side all this time since CJ and I split, I think when push and shove met, she wanted me to be with CJ. “What are you going to do about the two of them?”

“Nothing for now. I'm not going to make hasty decisions or let anyone pressure me.”

“That's good. Want me to drop you home?”

I finished the last of my wine. “Yes, please.”

* * *

I went home and put on my plaid flannel pajamas; then I logged on to my virtual garage sale site. I went through my usual routine of approving and disapproving posts, reminding people to remove old posts, and then I started going through the long list of private messages from people with questions and comments. They were innocuous until I opened this:

Chapter 33

My fingers froze over the keyboard. I started to ban the person. But first I went to his page to see what I could find out about him. There weren't any real posts. He belonged to a few other buy-sell groups. He didn't have any photos posted, other than a cartoon character named Dr. Doom that he used as his profile picture and header. The account was obviously fake, but someone had added him to the group. I forwarded the message and the account name to Pellner. Not that there would be much he could do. I'd had it with these jerks, whoever they were. I banned him and posted a reminder on the board not to add people unless you knew them personally.

A knock on my door made me jump, but I figured Dr. Doom wouldn't be knocking.

“It's me,” Stella called. When I opened the door, she looked over my pajamas. “You're one hot mama.”

“Very funny. I happen to like plaid. Come in.” We sat on the couch and turned toward each other.

“If only they could see you now.”

“CJ and Seth? They'd see beyond the pj's.”

“At least they'd like to.”

I laughed. “That's not what I was talking about. I heard you tossed them out of here.”

“How did you hear that?”

“Seth tracked me down.”

Stella's beautiful green eyes widened. “Interesting.” Stella said it with a neutral tone. She was more neutral than anyone else I knew. While I'd met Carol soon after I'd met CJ and when we were madly in love, Stella had met me as a wounded, lost soul. Her first impressions of CJ were as the cheater who'd hurt me.

“When I was a teenager, I would have swooned at the thought of two men fighting over me. The reality of it sucks,” I said.

Stella laughed. “Is something else bothering you?”

“Just the trolls on my garage sale site.”

“Is it more than that?”

Maybe it was time to tell someone what had been rolling around in my mind for the past few hours. “I've been running around, finding connections between Juanita, Margaret, and Frieda.” I played with the button on the front of my jammies. “But maybe I should be looking at a connection between them and me.”

Stella sat up a little straighter. “That makes sense, but do you think there is one?”

“It's going to sound crazy. Even worse than when I told you I thought I had a stalker.”

“Try me.”

This was what I loved about Stella. She'd listen without judging. “Margaret and I had a public disagreement on my garage sale site about Frieda getting a vintage tablecloth instead of me.”

Stella made a “Go on” motion with her hand.

“When I found her body, the tablecloth was stuffed down her throat.” I shuddered as I pictured the scene again.

“What about Juanita? Do you think there's a connection there, too?”

“I was attacked the day she came to my house. It created a commotion outside, was in the paper, and on the police blotter.”

“But she didn't hurt you.”

“I did some digging through the police call records in Lexington, Concord, and Bedford. And I compared them to what I could find out about Juanita's cleaning business. I think her business was some kind of front for a burglary ring.”

“You do?” Stella had a little worry crease between her eyebrows.

“Yes. First, there were the odd complaints of people finding a door or window open. Then I compared the places she had cleaned to the police logs.”

“Why didn't anyone else figure this out?”

“Maybe the police have, and they just aren't saying anything about it. Someone else could be involved, but they don't know who yet. Or maybe the incidents have been far enough apart time-wise and location-wise that they haven't figured it out.”

“So you think that someone, maybe your stalker, is killing people that they perceive have hurt you?”

“It sounds even crazier when you say it than when I thought it.”

“I'm going to stay on your good side, just in case. You can live here rent free from now on. And I'll be your chauffeur. However, I draw the line at cooking and cleaning. Just make sure you put it out there in public, so your crazy stalker person knows how good I am to you.”

I swatted Stella with a throw pillow. I gasped.

“What?” Stella asked.

“The day Hennessy embarrassed me at DiNapoli's. . . Her tires were slashed that night.”

“So you think it's someone at DiNapoli's?”

“The place was packed. It was the first day of Angelo's ten percent off for military. I'm trying to think if anyone stood out.” I remembered how crowded it was. Could James have been there and I hadn't noticed? “I was so focused on Hennessy, I don't remember who else was around.”

“Was James there?”

“Why ask about James?” Stella had met him last fall, when we were on Fitch one day. But since I'd been wondering about him, it worried me that his name was the first one out of Stella's mouth.

“Because anyone could tell from the way he looks at you that he likes you.”

“In a romantic way?”

“Yes. Yeesh, how could you not know?”

“I've had my suspicions on and off, but nothing has ever happened.”

“How about Seth?”

“No. I'd remember that. But why him?”

Stella lifted and dropped a shoulder. “Like I said before, sometimes he just seems too good to be true.”

“No. It's not Seth. He's a great guy. He's the DA, for goodness' sake.” Stella was such a terrible judge of men, I could disregard her line of thinking about Seth.

“I think thou dost protest too much.”

“Okay, Mrs. Shakespeare.” I bit my lower lip. I did worry a bit about Seth's association with Mike.

Stella and I sat in silence for a few minutes.

“But wouldn't CJ be in danger? Heaven knows, someone could think he's hurt you,” Stella said.

“He'd be harder to get to, though. This sounds terrible, but others are sort of low-hanging fruit.” I mentally added something to my list of things to do: find a way to ask CJ and Seth if they'd been threatened, without sounding insane.

“He lives alone, too.”

“Yes. But he's armed, and investigations are different when a cop gets killed.”

“Are you sure it's a man?” Stella asked.

“What? Of course.” I thought for a moment. “It has to be, doesn't it?” Statistically, more stalkers were men than women—at least I thought I'd read that somewhere.

“You never saw your attacker's face,” Stella said.

Another knock on the door saved me from spilling my worries about Seth and Mike's relationship. It was a ridiculous thought.

“Stella?” It was Officer Awesome.

Stella winked at me. “I left a note on my door that I'd be up here. Are you okay?”

“Yes. And you two will be downstairs if I'm not.”

She flew over to the door and threw it open. I waved at Awesome as Stella linked arms with him, and then they hurried down the stairs.

* * *

Pellner called me at 7:30 a.m. on Saturday. I'd barely pried my eyes open. It was still fairly dark in my room, so it had to be cloudy out. I hoped it wasn't snowing.

“Can you come down to the station?” he said.

“Why? Is CJ okay?” Since last night, when I shared my fears with Stella, I'd been worrying even more about what was going on.

“He's fine. I want to hear about the latest threat you received.”

“Can't I just tell you over the phone?”

“Let's make it official,” Pellner said. He paused for a second. “So we have a record.”

“I guess so,” I said. “I'll be there after a while.”

“Make it sooner rather than later, if you can.”

“Okay.” I hung up, showered, did my hair and makeup, and got ready to leave. But something just didn't feel quite right. I worried that Pellner wanted to get me there without a fuss. So I called Vincenzo.

“I can meet you there at ten,” he said.

“I told them I'd be there sooner than that.”

“Were you specific about a time?”

“No, I just said a while.”

“Why don't you go somewhere until ten? Let me know where, and my driver and I will pick you up on the way. I don't want them to get impatient and show up at your house.”

“You think it's serious?”

“I'd rather err on the side of caution and not have the police trying to interview you without me being present.”