Death Vetoes The Chairman (Lizzie Crenshaw Mysteries Book 7) (16 page)

“He knew I was listening.”

“Well, it’s pretty easy to tell when someone is on speaker phone, Lizzie.”

I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Just what do you hope to gain by going out there?” Greg asked.

“A better question is what does Edward hope to gain by us coming out there?” Jake replied.

Edward dialed a number and waited for someone to pick up the phone. “This is Winthrop.”

“Yes, Mr. Winthrop,” a deep male voice answered.

“I have a little job for you.”

“What can I do for you?”

“I’m having a meeting tomorrow. There are two people coming that I want to put the fear of God into.”

“Before or after?”

“Oh, definitely after. There’s some information I need from them first.”

“I’ll be glad to help extract the information from them,” the man laughed.

“I’m well aware of your capabilities.”

“Might I suggest Highway 16?”

“Actually, I’m having a meeting at my cabin.”

“I think the highway would be much better. Just in case they aren’t very…forthcoming with the information you want.”

Edward rubbed his chin. “I’ll have to change things again, but I think it can be done. Just make sure no one walks away.”

“On that road? Piece of cake, Mr. Winthrop.”

“Excellent. I’ll double your usual fee.”

“This
is
a serious situation.”

“No one kills my son and gets away with it.”

Chapter 21

"Back of the what?" I said as Jake made another sharp turn.

"Back of the Dragon," he laughed. "It's what the bikers call it."

"I think it should be call 'Heart Attack Road'. This is insane!"

“It’s not that bad.”

“Says the man who has probably driven this road a thousand times,” I groused.

“Hardly,” he replied. “My parents wouldn’t let me drive this road that much, especially my mother. Her brother died on this road when they were kids.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” he assured me. “You didn’t know.”

We were driving down Highway 16, which runs between Tazewell, where Jake grew up, and Marion. Edward had called this morning to say that he had some unexpected business he had to take care of, and suggested we join him in Marion for dinner instead of at his cabin. For his own perverse reasons, Jake had failed to mention that we would be driving this winding road, which was full of hairpin turns and curves. I hadn’t taken my hand off the door handle, mainly because he tried to drift around a few of the curves. Who did he think he was, professional rally cross driver Tanner Foust?

“This isn’t the right type of vehicle to use for drifting, Jake,” I pointed out. “I don’t think your mother will be very happy with you if you wreck her SUV.”

“I know what I’m doing.” But I also noticed he slowed down a little and put both hands on the steering wheel. I snickered. “What?”

“Nothing.” I looked out the window at the bare trees. “I bet this is a beautiful drive when there are leaves on the trees.”

“It is,” he assured me. “One of those drives you take on a lazy afternoon. In the fall, when the leaves are changing colors, it’s awesome. I’ll have to bring you back next fall.”

“Maybe we can bring Trixie and T.J. with us. I’m sure they’d love to get out of Texas.” Jake grunted. I’m sure he wasn’t thrilled with that suggestion, so I decided to change the subject. “Will there be snow for Christmas?”

“Not usually. We usually don’t get snow until after the first of the year.”

“It feels cold enough for snow today.”

“What do you know about snow? You’re from Texas,” Jake laughed. “I did watch the weather report this morning while you were getting ready. It’s going to be cold for the next couple of days. Normally, we get the same temperatures here that we do back home.”

We drove in silence for a few minutes. “Tell me about the bike ride.”

“It’s a three-day rally that takes place in mid-June. There’s a big concert with several bands on Friday night. Saturday there’s a parade, what they call a cruise in, which is really cool. There are vintage and custom bikes. Some of the bikes these guys have created are just mind boggling. The bike show gives people a chance to see them up close and personal, you vote for your favorite one, and trophies are awarded to the winners in the afternoon. There’s another concert that night. The bike ride is on Sunday afternoon.”

“Wow, sounds a bit like Sturgis.”

“Not nearly as wild as Sturgis,” Jake said.

“May I ask you a question?”

“About…?”

“Ethan.”

I saw him tense up for a second, then he relaxed and said, “What do you want to know?”

“Do you think Jessica was the first girl he…”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. She’s just the first one who spoke out against him.”

“Makes you wonder just how many others are out there. I mean, I know we’ve talked about it before, but I can’t stop thinking about it. Do you think his father would provide us with any information?”

“I highly doubt it. Ethan would have gone to prison a long time ago if his father hadn’t paid off a lot of people.”

“Because he was too worried about the family name more than making sure his son took responsibility for his actions.”

“Basically,” Jake replied as we entered the Marion city limits. “That’s where Edward and my father are different. If I did something wrong, my father made me own up to it, and grounded me for weeks at at time, depending on how bad I screwed up. It didn’t happen too often; I didn’t like disappointing him or Mother.”

“Having met your mother, I can understand that. She’s a lovely woman. Where are we meeting Edward?”

“At The Black Rooster Restaurant in the General Francis Marion Hotel.” He explained the historical background of the hotel. Named for the general known as “The Swamp Fox” during the Revolutionary War, it had been a popular destination for tourists and locals when it first opened during the late 1920s. But the small hotel lost its opulence, and couldn’t compete with the big chain hotels that opened along the main roads. A local millionaire bought the hotel in 2000, and spent millions of dollars to return it to its former glory.

When we pulled up in front of the hotel, I was impressed. The ground floor was painted beige, with tall windows along the front. There appeared to be a balcony over the front door, and a brown awning hung over it. The top three floors were brown brick, with dozens of windows looking out over the downtown area. To the right, a black sign with the words “The Black Rooster Restaurant” hung over a red door. There was a small white, diamond shape to the left of the letters, where a black rooster with red tail feathers stood over a cocktail.

We walked through the red door, and I saw a tall bar with several black backed barstools with wooden seats to the left as soon as we walked in. The young lady behind the bar was busy mixing a drink in a cocktail shaker. To the right, there were small round tables with table size versions of the barstools. Rolled black cloth napkins sat on top of the table in front of each chair, and a black leather menu sat in the middle of each table.

Jake looked around for Edward, and I found myself scanning the room myself. My eyes stopped when I spotted a man on the other side of the room, and I grabbed Jake’s arm as I felt my heart start to pound faster. “What’s the matter?” Jake said.

“Across the room,” I whispered. “I just saw Ethan.”

He looked over. “That’s not Ethan,” he assured me. “That’s Edward.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I promise.”

“They could be twins,” I said as we walked over to Edward’s table.

“People said that a lot, especially when they were together.”

We stopped next to the table as Edward stood up. “Jacob, it’s good to see you again,” he said, shaking Jake’s hand. “And this must be Ms. Crenshaw.” He held out his hand to me.

I hesitated for a moment before shaking hands with him. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Winthrop,” I replied, resisting the urge to wipe my hand on my pants.

He gave me a sympathetic look. “From your reaction, I’m sure that’s not true. I’m assuming my son is responsible for your visceral reaction to seeing me when you walked in.”

“I’m sorry.”

Edward shook his head. “Nothing to apologize for, Ms. Crenshaw. I know the type of pain my son inflicted on women. Please, sit down.”

I took the seat across the table from him, while Jake sat on my left. The young lady who had been behind the bar brought a cocktail glass over, placing it on a napkin in front of Edward. “What can I get you two to drink?”

“Sweet tea for me, please.”

“I’ll have the same,” Jake said.

She nodded and walked away. “I recommend the filet mignon,” Edward said, “or the grilled Atlantic Salmon. Both excellent dishes.”

What I really wanted was the General Burger, but you don’t go to a fancy restaurant to eat a burger, so I chose the 8 oz sirloin. Jake had the salmon and Edward selected the filet mignon. The two of them made small talk for a few minutes, while I sipped my tea and tried not to stare at Edward.

“How many other women were there, Edward?” Jake said out of the blue.

“Rather blunt, don’t you think?” he replied.

“Well, we could sit here and continue to make small talk, while Lizzie resists the urge to run out the front door, or we can just talk about the real reason we’re here. Your choice.”

“Is he right, Ms. Crenshaw?” Edward said, looking at me. I could only nod. “I see. Tell me what happened between you and Ethan.”

I gasped. Jake put his hand in mine, and gently squeezed. “I don’t think that is an appropriate comment,” he said. “Asking her to talk about this in public. She barely talks to any of us about it.”

“I have spent years cleaning up my son’s mistakes, Jacob. I’ve never asked any questions from any woman who has accused him of…the things they claim he did to them. Ms. Crenshaw is the only woman who has not come to me and demanded money. I can only assume that he didn’t do much, if anything, to her.”

“You’re as big of an ass as your son, Mr. Winthrop,” I said.

Edward’s eyes went wide in surprise. “And you’re rather rude, Ms. Crenshaw.”

“You want to know what your son did to me?” I replied, pulling my hand away from Jake.

“Lizzie, don’t.”

I pushed up my sleeve a little and showed him my bruised wrist. “He did this for starters.” I shoved the sleeve higher so he could see the bruises on my upper arm. “And this, on both arms. He tore my dress, he assaulted me not once, but twice. He was warned not to contact me, told not to send things to my home or my office. He laughed at me, and did whatever he wanted to.” I slid my sleeve back down. “I’ve hardly slept the last three weeks. I have nightmares about what might have happened if a police officer hadn’t stopped your son in time. I can’t go to my office because every time I do, the whole thing plays out in my mind over and over. I’m living my life in
fear
, Mr. Winthrop, and
your
son is to blame. As for your money, I don’t need it, and even if I did, I wouldn’t ask you for anything. It won’t help me forget, and it won’t change what happened. Now, does that satisfy you, or do you need to see the police and medical reports, the pictures?”

None of us realized the waitress was standing there until she cleared her throat. “Would you like me to come back with your food after you’ve finished talking?” she asked.

“That won’t be necessary,” Jake said.

She served Jake and Edward first before putting my plate down in front of me. Then she did something that surprised me: she leaned over and gave me a hug. “You tell him, girl,” she whispered in my ear. “Don’t back down, and don’t give up.”

I watched her hurry away. I had the feeling she had been through a similar experience. She grabbed a napkin from behind the bar and wiped her eyes.

No one said anything for a few minutes. We each focused on our plates, but after what I said, I only managed to eat half of my food. I ended up twisting my napkin in my lap while the two of them ate.

Edward put his fork down and cleared his throat. “Ms. Crenshaw, I apologize,” he said quietly. “I had no idea what my son put you through. His explanation of things was much tamer than what you said. He told me it was merely a misunderstanding, and that he would soon be able to straighten things out.”

“Misunderstanding, my…” Jake started to say, but I put my hand on his arm and shook my head.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Edward said. “Pay for counseling, build you a new office, something?”

“No, Mr. Winthrop. I don’t need anything.”

The waitress cleared the table, and brought us fresh drinks. “I understand that the two of you found Ethan’s body.”

“We did,” Jake said.

“On your front porch, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How did that happen?”

“We don’t know for sure, Mr. Winthrop,” I told him. “A truck similar to the one Jake has been driving was spotted at a convenience store, and we believe that the killer used it to transport his body to Jake’s house. It was my little dog that actually found Ethan. He was disguised as a scarecrow that had been propped up on the front steps of the house. Mittens tugged on the overalls and pulled him down. That’s when we knew it was Ethan.”

“That must have been a very difficult thing for you to see, Ms. Crenshaw.”

“It was.”

Edward leaned forward, his forearms resting on the table. “The police tell me that he was shot several times. Is that what they told you?”

“Yes.” I took a drink of my tea, wondering if I should tell him the rest.

“But…?” he replied.

I looked at Jake, who shrugged. “He may have been shot with two different guns.”

“Why?” he said, clearly confused.

“We think there is more than one person involved.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s a possible scenario,” Jake said. “The question is, how many people wanted him dead?”

“Besides you and Ms. Crenshaw, you mean?”

I saw Jake’s eyes flash, and I knew he was about to do something stupid. “Yes, Mr. Winthrop, besides us.”

“Do you two have solid alibis?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What about you, Edward?” Jake said. “Do you have an alibi?”

Edward choked on his drink. Looking outraged, he slammed his glass down. “What are you insinuating, Jacob?”

“I know for a fact that your company currently is negotiating an important business deal with a Japanese company. They hate any type of negative press, and having the owner’s son accused of sexual assault would certainly kill your deal. How do we know you didn’t hire someone to kill Ethan in order to save the negotiations?”