Better Off Wed (18 page)

The organ started playing inside the sanctuary, and a few people hurried past us through the doorway.

“Go ahead inside,” I said, taking Kate's car keys from her. “I have to go home and check out something, then I'm going to call Reese and give him my new evidence.”

“Can't you tell us what's going on?” Kate leaned forward on the pointy toes of her high heels.

“I can't say anything out here because someone might overhear me.” I gave a quick shake of my head. “You go ahead in without me. It would look odd if we all skipped the service, especially since people have already seen us.”

I watched them slip into a pew close to the back, and then I tiptoed down the marble hallway and ran to Kate's car. I got in and put the key in the ignition while I called information for the District Two phone number. I splurged the extra fifty cents to be patched
through directly. Driving and talking I could manage. Driving, talking, and writing down a number at the same time, I couldn't.

“I'm looking for Detective Reese,” I said when a voice answered. “It's an emergency.”

The cop on phone duty didn't sound impressed. “He's out. I can take a message.”

“Is there any way you can reach him for me? This is important.” I steered with one hand and used my knees to hold the wheel in place. Luckily Wisconsin Avenue ran through the city in a relatively straight line.

“I can relay your message as soon as he calls in, ma'am. That's as good as I can do.” I doubted that, but didn't want to get in an argument.

“Tell him Annabelle Archer called with important information about the Pierce murder case. I was at Mrs. Pierce's memorial service, but I'm heading back to my house so he can reach me on my cell phone. Please tell him it's an emergency.”

“Will do.”

I hung up the phone and felt like screaming. I had to talk to Reese. Where could he be? Too many thoughts were jumbled in my head. I took a deep breath to calm down. Was I right or had I jumped to conclusions?

I dialed Richard's number again and went immediately into voice mail. He must have been driving through every patch of bad reception in Washington. I left him a message telling him my hypothesis and instructing him to meet me at home, then flipped off my phone.

I passed the “social” Safeway in Upper Georgetown, where singles found shopping nights more exciting than happy hour. I turned off Wisconsin and parked a
block away from my building, the tip of my car creeping into someone's brick driveway.

Could I be overreacting? Maybe my new theory was wrong and Dr. Harriman had killed his ex-wife and Mr. Boyd. No. I'd found the missing piece of the puzzle. I felt it in my gut.

Leatrice stood in the same spot we'd left her in earlier that morning. This time she had on rainbow-striped gloves. “Back so soon, dearie? Where's Kate?”

I dashed past her. “At the funeral.”

“Did you forget something?” Leatrice watched me throw open the door to our building and start up the steps two at a time.

“My brain,” I called out behind me. “I should have realized ages ago.”

“I don't understand.” Leatrice followed me inside the building and looked at me as though the head injuries had finally kicked in. “What should you have realized?”

“Never mind.” I paused at the first landing. “If Detective Reese or Richard come, could you let them in, Leatrice?”

She clapped her hands. “Of course. I'll send them right up.”

I ran the rest of the way up the stairs and reached my floor panting. I stumbled into my apartment and dropped the car keys on the floor. I checked the answering machine in my office while I started up my computer. No messages. That meant Reese must still be out. Didn't cops have to check in regularly?

I sat down at my computer screen and logged on to the Internet. After a few minutes of searching, I sat back and smiled. Bingo. I printed out several pages and
left them in my printer while I went to the kitchen. I grabbed a Coke out of the refrigerator. Probably not the best way to calm my nerves, but I didn't care. I poured it over ice and listened to the fizz die down. I paced a few minutes before dialing the police station again.

“I'm calling for Detective Reese.”

“Are you the lady who called here earlier looking for him?”

“Yes. I'm Annabelle Archer.” My voice still shook.

“Okay, I gave him your message and he said he was on his way to your place.”

I hung up. If I didn't know better, I'd think Reese wanted an excuse to see me. Good thing I'd been at a funeral. My black sheath dress made me look almost thin.

I fluffed the pillows on my couch and dumped my nearly empty glass of Coke in the sink. I found a can of lemon furniture polish in a bottom kitchen cabinet and walked around spraying it in the air. If it didn't look clean, at least it could smell clean. The doorbell rang and I tossed the empty can of polish in the trash.

I undid my hair from the black clip that held it back and shook it loose as I walked to the door. I pinched my cheeks and said a prayer that Richard and Kate couldn't see me. I planted a smile on my face and opened the door. My smile vanished.

It wasn't Detective Reese. It was the groom.

“Dr. Donovan.” My voice sounded unnaturally high-pitched. “I'm sur…”

“Surprised to see me?” He stepped into my apartment and pulled the door closed. “I don't know why, Miss Archer.”

I tried to keep the tremor out of my voice. “Can I help you with anything?”

“For starters, you can tell me how you figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” My eyes flitted to the door, which he blocked with his body.

“Don't patronize me. I overheard you tell your friends that you knew the police had arrested the wrong person.” He didn't blink as he stared at me. “You didn't notice me on the other side of the sanctuary door, did you? I heard your phone ring.”

I shook my head, my mouth too dry to open. I stepped back, and my legs touched the edge of the couch.

“Your phone has a distinctive ring, Miss Wedding Planner.” I cursed myself for picking “Here Comes the Bride,” and cursed Kate for being right when she told me it was a stupid idea. “I heard the ring when you came to pay condolences to Elizabeth, then in my office when you were snooping around, and again today. So why don't you tell me how you knew it was me.”

I cleared my throat. “The sticker.”

“What?”

“You have a window decal on your car for Andover Academy.
Phillips
Andover Academy. ‘Phillips' is the only name we couldn't match up from Clara's notebook. You don't have a diploma from the prep school on your wall, though. I figured there must be a good reason for not putting it up with all the others.”

“Which would be?” He sounded like a teacher coaxing a pupil.

“At first I thought you didn't go to Andover and you were willing to kill to keep that secret hidden.” I took a baby step away from him. “But when I went on the school's Web site, I saw an old photo of you in the alumni section.”

He crossed his hands over his chest. “Continue.”

“The funny thing is that you're not listed in the alumni directory. At least Andrew Donovan isn't listed, but I suspect
you
are, aren't you?”

The groom smiled and winked at me. “Very good, Miss Archer.”

I glanced at the clock on the bookshelf behind him. Where was Richard? Never mind Richard, where was Detective Reese?

“So you changed your name and that's what your mother-in-law discovered?” Mrs. Pierce's comment
about changing names during the wedding started to make a lot of sense. “You killed Clara to keep your old identity a secret.”

He stepped away from the door and moved toward me. “Not bad for a wedding planner.”

“You're the one who left the poisoned straw in his tuxedo jacket, not Dr. Harriman.” I pointed a finger at him. Everything made sense now. “You knew Clara took medication for blood pressure and you could easily get a prescription filled.”

His eye twitched. “The tuxedo jacket was a mistake.”

“You ransacked my apartment trying to get it back, but you couldn't find it.” I tried not to sound too victorious. “But why kill Mrs. Pierce? She adored you.”

“No, she loved Andrew Donovan, Ivy League graduate. Andrew Donovan, successful doctor. Andrew Donovan, only heir of wealthy parents.” His eye twitched faster. “She didn't love Andy Klump of Pittsburgh.”

“You made up a fake past as well as a fake name?” I couldn't help being impressed with the extent of his lies.

“Once I got a scholarship to Andover, I promised myself I'd never be part of that blue-collar family again. I created an entirely new life for myself, complete with a family tree and ancestors going back to the Mayflower.” His eye twitched in rapid fire now. “I became Andrew Donovan and couldn't even remember what it felt like to be Andy Klump.”

This guy was nuts. I glanced behind me. Could I make it down the hall to the back door before he caught me? “Too bad the diploma gave you away.”

“That damn Andover diploma. My future mother-in-
law noticed it was missing just as you did. When she asked me about it, I told her I'd misplaced it years ago. End of story, right?” He paused and stared at me, as if waiting for me to answer.

I sidestepped the arm of the couch. “I guess not.”

“She decided to surprise me by getting a copy and having it framed. Of course, when she called Andover they had no record of an Andrew Donovan. A little research into the old yearbooks turned up Andy Klump. Andy Klump who'd been dead and buried for ten years.”

“So she threatened to call off the wedding and expose you.” What a great story. I'd almost forgotten he wanted to kill me.

“Worse. She told me that she'd keep my secret if she had the final say in my life with Elizabeth. Where we lived, who we socialized with, which clubs we joined. Total control.”

I could imagine how delighted Mrs. Pierce would have been to realize that she wouldn't be losing a daughter, she'd be gaining an indentured servant. She'd have loved blackmailing her son-in-law for the rest of her life. Part of me didn't blame him for killing her.

“I hadn't come this far and made so many sacrifices to be controlled by a society witch like Clara Pierce. I had no choice but to kill her. Don't you see?” He turned his attention to me.

I took a step backward. “Then you killed Mr. Boyd because of his relationship with Clara.”

“I couldn't be sure she hadn't indulged in pillow talk, now, could I?” He furrowed his brow, causing rows of frown lines to appear on his forehead.

“You must have switched needles when Mr. Boyd came in for his appointment with your father-in-law.”

He nodded. “Easy enough to do when you share office space and have medications lying around. It's very simple to overdose on normally harmless medications, you know. Do you want to hear something funny, Miss Archer?”

Somehow I didn't think his idea of funny would be the same as mine. “Mmm-hmm.”

“I had no idea about your tasting with the Boyds until the next day. Imagine my surprise when I found out that you and your caterer friend were in hot water again.” He chuckled. “You must have figured it out, though, because you came sneaking around my office.”

“You thought I was in your office trying to find information about you?” I kicked myself for not making the connection sooner.

“I heard your phone and guessed you must be sneaking around my office for a reason. Then when I saw you come out of the photographer's studio and Maxwell told me you'd taken my wedding pictures, I knew you were too close for comfort.

“You're the one who tried to run me off the road, aren't you?” My voice and courage were coming back. “That wasn't your Mercedes, though.”

“Elizabeth's SUV. Not that she'd notice the dents with all the medication I have her on.” He removed a pair of surgical latex gloves from his pants pocket. “I thought you'd be clever enough to back off.”

“Why bother trying to kill me?” I swallowed hard as I saw the gloves. That explained why he didn't leave any fingerprints when he broke into my apartment. “I didn't know you were the murderer until today.”

He pulled the gloves on. “You were getting too close, talking to too many people.”

“Why didn't you kill Dr. Pierce, too?” I shouldn't have suggested more potential victims, but curiosity got the better of me. “Couldn't his wife have shared her secret with him, as well?”

The groom arched an eyebrow at me. “You weren't close to Clara, were you? She and her husband barely spoke. I didn't have to worry about her telling him.”

He took a step toward me and my mind raced with thoughts of how to keep him talking. There was a knock on the door and I almost cheered. That would be Reese or Richard. Just in time, too.

“Yoo-hoo.” Leatrice peeked inside. “It's me, dearie.”

So much for my knight in shining armor.

“I wasn't aware you were with someone.” Leatrice gave Dr. Donovan the once-over and skipped into the room. The doctor stared at her without speaking and slipped off the gloves.

“This isn't a good time, Leatrice.” I made a quick jerky movement with my head toward the door, praying she'd take the hint and leave before Dr. Donovan decided to kill her, too.

“I'm Annabelle's neighbor, Mrs. Leatrice Butters.” She took the groom's hand and pumped it.

He shot me a warning look.

“We're kind of in the middle of something, Leatrice.” I darted my eyes in the groom's direction several times. Why didn't she pick up on my signals?

“Did I disturb something private?” Leatrice took a step, then pulled on Dr. Donovan's sleeve. “You should see her when she doesn't have that red bump on her forehead. She's even prettier.”

Perfect. First I'd be humiliated, then I'd die.

Dr. Donovan put a hand on Leatrice's shoulder. “Mrs. Butters, we'd like a few moments alone, if you don't mind.”

“Alone?” Leatrice clasped her hands together in what seemed to be the sheer joy of the moment.

“Thank you for stopping by to check on me,” I said, widening my eyes and motioning my head toward the doctor. She nodded, then gave me two thumbs up before the door closed on her. What did I have to do? Send up smoke signals?

“Nice lady.” Dr. Donovan leaned against the door with one hand. “It would have been too much trouble to try to kill you both at once, though.”

“How do you plan to get away with all this?” My eyes darted around the room. Any heavy objects I could use to defend myself?

“I've gotten away with two murders so far. The police don't have a clue.”

“I've already called the cops.” I edged myself against the wall. “They're on their way here right now.”

He took a step forward. “By the time they arrive, I'll be gone. I changed my identity once, I can do it again.”

“You should escape now before they get here.”

His eyes became narrow slits. “I should have killed you days ago. If you hadn't been such a busybody, I would've gotten away with it.”

I wished that Reese could hear that. I narrowed my eyes. “You're not going to get away with this.”

The doctor clenched and unclenched his fists. “Your bravery is only matched by your stupidity, Miss Archer.”

He lunged for me, and I ran around the back of the
couch. We stood on opposite sides, poised like animals ready to strike. My only chance would be to reach the back door before him. I picked up an armful of cushions and hurled it at his face, as I took off for the exit.

He swore as the cushions hit him, then I heard his feet behind me. I closed in on the doors. Just a few more feet. I felt a hand hit my back and pull me down. I screamed as my elbows hit the floor.

I twisted around onto my back, arms flailing. He raised his hands to clasp my neck as I rained punches on his face. As he tightened his grip around my throat, I heard a blood-curdling sound.

Mouth opened in a high-pitched scream, Leatrice flew through the air above us, clutching a shovel. She brought the metal down on Dr. Donovan's head, and he collapsed on top of me. Between acute hearing and shovel-wielding skills, I decided Leatrice might be a super hero in disguise. Leatrice rolled him off me with one of her brightly colored sneakers. A very good disguise.

I sat up, rubbing my throat. “How did you know, Leatrice?”

She sat down on top of him, his head between her feet. “Like I told you, I read a lot of mysteries.”

“What took you so long? He almost killed me! Didn't you see the signals I sent you with my eyes?”

Leatrice reached over and patted my arm. “Yes. Next time don't be so obvious, dear. You almost gave the whole thing away.”

Richard ran through the open door, gasping for breath. He saw Leatrice sitting on top of the doctor's limp body holding a shovel inches from his face and slumped against the wall. “Heard screaming…dou
ble parked…left car running…ran all the way…can't breathe…”

“It's over, Richard, Dr. Donovan confessed to both murders.”

Richard fanned himself with both hands. “Is he dead?”

Leatrice peered through her legs at the doctor's face and raised the shovel over her head. “I don't think so. Should I hit him again?”