Death Vetoes The Chairman (Lizzie Crenshaw Mysteries Book 7) (24 page)

“I’ll pick you up at your place after lunch.”

“We could eat something at the house before we go.”

“I’ll bring something with me.” He put his hand on my cheek. “I meant what I said in there, Lizzie. I’ll help you through this. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you; I hope you know that.”

I put my hand on top of his. “I know, and I appreciate it.”

He leaned over and kissed me. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

He watched me drive off. As I headed for the newspaper, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was ever going to be ready to talk about what had happened.

And if T.J. would really stick by me…

Chapter 32

“I read the article that you wrote last week,” I told Ellen as I sat down in the chair by her desk.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” she said. “I’ve written a lot of articles in the last week.”

“The one about sexual harassment in the workplace.”

“Oh, that one,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “What did you think?”

“It’s good.”

“Awesome.”

“But I think you can go further.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you talked about sexual harassment. But what about actual sexual assaults?”

“I wanted to know what you thought of this article first before I tackled that issue. That’s a whole ‘nother kettle of fish, one that is worse than the harassment.”

“Start doing the research,” I said. “There are predators out there that have dozens of victims, and somehow, they get away with it. How many victims don’t get the help they need? Why isn’t more done to stop the ones that are repeat offenders? What resources are available to the victims?”

Ellen grabbed a notepad and started making notes. “All good questions. Do you know any women who might be willing to talk to me?”

“Why are you asking me?”

“I just assumed that you had some people lined up. It’s obvious you’ve been thinking about this for a while.”

“Your article made me think of it.”

She looked at me with a critical eye. “As a seasoned reporter, I know when I’m being fed a line of bull. And you, my dear, are shoveling it out. What’s the real reason you want me to do this?”

“Because people need to be aware of what goes on right under their noses.”

Ellen leaned closer to me. “Or could it have to do with the rumors that have been flying around the last couple of weeks?”

“What rumors?”

“That Ethan Winthrop assaulted you, and you killed him because of it.”

“I see. And what did you say to people when they told you that?”

“That I didn’t believe you killed him.”

“No, I didn’t kill him.”

“But…?”

“But what?”

She sighed. “Did he assault you?”

I motioned for her to follow me outside. “What exactly are they saying?”

“It depends on who you ask. Most believe that you threw yourself at him in the hopes to get money for the newspaper to keep it going.”

“And what’s your opinion?”

“I think the bruises you are hiding under that long sleeved shirt, the fact that you won’t go into your office, for whatever reason, means something did happen between you and Ethan.” I chewed on my lip, unsure what to say. “I’m going to tell you something that very few people know. When I first started out as a reporter, I went to a conference where there were very few women. Despite my promise to myself to keep my wits about me, I had a little too much to drink that night. I found myself cornered with the editor of a well-known newspaper. Well…you can imagine what happened.”

“Ellen…”

“Don’t feel sorry for me, young lady. I’m a survivor! Granted, I didn’t feel that way for quite a while. I’m sure that’s the way you feel right now. Give yourself time. Lean on your family and friends; don’t shut them out. I did that, and it cost me the love of my life.”

“I appreciate the advice, and I’d just as soon no one else know about this. You know how people talk around here.”

“I shudder to think what would happen if any of the Gossip Queens found out.”

“Gladys would hound me out of town.”

“See, that’s a stigma that needs to be stopped. That the victim was asking for it. People stared at me for months, whispered behind my back, or avoided me altogether. I finally moved away, and ended up here.”

“Are you okay doing an article on sexual assaults?”

“I think it’s a good idea. I’ll start doing the research today.

“Great, then I’ll let you get to work.”

“Lizzie, if you need to talk…”

“You’ll have to get at the end of the line with that offer,” I smiled. “There’s about five or six people ahead of you.”

As we turned to go back inside, I heard someone call my name. It was T.J. “We’ve got a problem.”

“Anything I can do to help, T.J.?” Ellen teased him. “Something an older, more experienced woman can deal with?”

“I knew a woman like you once, Ellen. She taught me everything she knew, and when she was done with me, tossed me out like yesterday’s garbage. Turned me off older women for life.”

“Yeah, but your mother doesn’t count,” she laughed.

“Cynthia Davis is missing,” T.J. told me after Ellen went inside.

“Who?”

“The other woman who moved here from Tazewell.”

“What happened?”

“They’re not sure yet. She supposedly left a note, saying that she had an out-of-town emergency, but the police don’t believe she wrote it.”

“Do you think it’s Edward?”

T.J. scratched the back of his head. “Maybe, I don’t know. But that’s not all. Barbara Stephenson is missing, too.”

“Holy…”

“According to the reports, she put up a heck of a fight. The whole place was trashed. They found her purse, cell phone and keys on the coffee table.”

“This is insane! Just how far does this man’s reach go?”

“To Dallas, apparently.”

“Not funny, Roosevelt, not funny at all.”

“Hey,” he said, pulling me into his arms, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Crenshaw. I promise you that.”

I rested my head on his chest for a minute. “So what do we do now?”

“Owen is going to call McDonald to find out if Edward is still there. It’s going to take him a little while to track him down.”

“What about Garth? He could probably find out a lot faster than McDonald.”

“I’m not sure how to get a hold of him. He didn’t leave me a number.”

“So call Jake.”

“I’m not going to call him! He’s still in the hospital.”

I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Jake’s number. “Miss me already, Lizzie?” he said when he answered.

“You wish.”

“Since you obviously didn’t call me for sweet talk, what can I do for you?”

“We have a problem here.” I handed the phone to T.J, who put it on speaker.

“Cynthia Davis and Barbara Stephenson are missing.”

“Since when?”

“We don’t know yet. That information is still being gathered. We’re wondering if Edward is still there, or if he’s managed to sneak out of town without anyone knowing it.”

“Hold on.” We could hear some murmurings in the background. “Sorry, that was the nurse with my discharge papers.”

“Already?” I said.

“What can I say, I’m a fast healer.”

“Owen plans to call McDonald find out Edward’s whereabouts, but we were wondering if perhaps Garth could do his own checking.”

“Why? I’m sure Greg will be able to get the information that you need.”

“Well, I’d like to ask Garth to find out if any of the other victims are missing, as well as tracking down Edward.”

Again, he asked us to wait, and we heard more talking in the background. “Garth and I are headed for the hanger once they let me out of here.”

“Shouldn’t you be going home?” I said. “Your mother is probably waiting for you.”

“My parents have gone to D.C. on business. Garth is supposed to make sure I take it easy.”

“Oh, brother.”

“We’ll get together with Micha, then let you know what we find out.”

“At least try to take it easy.”

“I’ll do my best. Talk to you later.”

“So what do we do now?” I said after he hung up.

“There’s nothing we can do, except wait.”

“Is there any chance that the police would let us into Barbara’s apartment?”

“Not likely.”

“Let’s call Hopkins.”

“Right now?”

“Let me grab my bag and we’ll go to your office.”

“Or we could just call from here.”

“No privacy. Give me just a minute.” I went back inside and grabbed my bag. “I’ve got my phone if you need me for anything.”

“Where are you rushing off to in such a hurry?” Ellen said.

“Just following up on a lead.”

“Good story?”

“Maybe. I’ll let you know.”

I rejoined T.J. on the sidewalk, and we walked the three blocks over to the sheriff’s office. “Do you think they’re still alive?” I asked him as we approached the front door.

“Do you want my professional opinion or my personal opinion?”

“Professional.”

“There’s always a chance that they’re alive. It depends on the reason they were taken in the first place.”

“And your personal opinion?”

He looked into my eyes, and I saw the answer. No chance. I sighed.

T.J. opened the door for me and we went inside. Owen was pacing the lobby floor. “It’s about time you got back…” he started to say. Then he saw me. “What’s she doing here?”

“Good morning to you too, Owen,” I replied.

“That came out wrong. I’m sorry,” he said. He gave me a gentle hug. “How are you doing this morning?”

“It’s been an eventful morning already, and it’s not even ten.”

Owen glanced at T.J. “Well, it’s about to get more interesting.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why don’t you just come back to the conference room with me? We’ll talk there.”

I looked at T.J., who shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

We followed him down the hallway past his office, and went through the next door on the left. “Hopkins! We were just talking about you. Where your ears burning?” I said, shaking his hand.

“Um, no…should they be?” the bewildered agent said.

“Good to see you, Richard,” T.J. said. “What brings you here?”

“Well, um…” Hopkins looked at Owen, who shrugged.

“Hello, Ms. Crenshaw,” a familiar voice said from behind the door. “I didn’t expect to see you here today.”

“No,” I whispered, “it can’t be.”

The door slammed shut, and I turned to see my worst nightmare come to life. “Oh, but I’m afraid it is,” Ethan Winthrop smiled.

Chapter 33

“Is this some kind of sick joke?” I said angrily, glaring at Hopkins and Owen.

“Well, you see, Ms. Crenshaw, it’s like this…” Hopkins began to explain.

“I heard you were very upset about my unfortunate demise,” Ethan said. “I’m touched.”

“What is he doing here?” I said, ignoring him.

“It’s not what you think, Lizzie,” Owen said.

“Really? And just what do you think I’m thinking right now, Owen?”

“That you’ve been bamboozled, conned, and manipulated,” Ethan laughed. Next thing I knew, Ethan was on the floor, and I was rubbing my right hand. “Are you crazy? Sheriff Greene, I demand that you arrest her for assaulting me.”

“Shut up, Winthrop,” Owen snapped.

Ethan got up off the floor, inched his way past me, and started yelling at Owen and Hopkins. T.J. turned me around to face him. “How’s your hand?” he said quietly.

“Nothing an ice pack won’t cure.”

He looked over at Ethan, who was still yelling. “That was one heck of a punch. Where did you learn to do that?”

“Owen.”

“Remind me to never make you angry.”

“Probably a very wise idea,” I laughed.

“Why don’t you just sit down and be quiet?” Owen told Ethan.

“Don’t you tell me what to do,” Ethan snapped.

“You can sit down voluntarily, Ethan, or I will knock you into a chair,” I threatened him.

He glared at me before he sat down in the nearest chair.

Hopkins looked at me nervously and cleared his throat. “Ms. Crenshaw…Lizzie, I know that seeing Mr. Winthrop is a bit of a shock.”

“A bit?”

“Lizzie,” T.J. said as he put his hand on my forearm.

“First of all, I want to apologize for the deception. We had to make you, and everyone else, believe that Mr. Winthrop was dead.”

“Why?”

“That’s classified information,” Hopkins said. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Oh my god, there’s that word again,” I muttered. “It’s ‘classified’. If one more person tells me something is classified, I’m going to deck them. You cannot show up here, Hopkins, with him, apologize, and then not explain to me what is going on. Especially after I saved your life.”

“The only reason I showed up is because you started digging around and asking questions.”

“I’m asking questions about Barbara Stephenson, not Ethan Winthrop.”

“They’re interconnected.”

I sank into the nearest chair and started massaging my temples. “Why can’t any of this be simple?”

“None of this would have happened if you’d have just agreed to go out with me,” Ethan said smugly.

“Go out with you?” I said, standing back up and walking over to him. “You pawed me like some lecherous thing. Treating me like I was some object for you to conquer. You sent flowers and gifts, thinking I’d forgive you, and suddenly want to go out with you. Men like you are what’s wrong with this world. You live off your daddy’s money, believing that all you have to do is snap your fingers, and whatever you want is yours for the taking. And when a woman says no, you attack them, beat and abuse them, then toss them aside when you’re through playing with them. Do you want to know why you were so upset with me? Because I wouldn’t play your little game. Because I have pride. Because I’m a strong, independent woman, or I should say I was. Now, I’m terrified of shadows, afraid to go to sleep at night, and unable to trust almost everyone I come into contact with.”

“Like I said, this wouldn’t have happened…”

I slapped him hard. “I’m still not going to play your game, Ethan.” I looked at Owen. “I will be pressing charges against him.”

“Well,” Hopkins said, moving to the other side of the table away from me, “that could be a problem.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s been given immunity in exchange for his cooperation.”

“Immunity? From what?”

“It’s part of that classi…um, the private case I can’t talk about.”

“Hopkins, you either tell me what is going on, or I am going to call every network and newspaper in the Dallas/Ft. Worth area, and tell them that the FBI is protecting an abuser and rapist.”

“You can’t do that!” Hopkins protested. “No one can know he’s alive.”

“Tell me why.”

“Oh good grief,” Ethan said, “because they need me to testify against my father. They’re going to go after him for tax evasion, RICO violations, things like that.”

“Winthrop, be quiet,” Hopkins said.

“Why? She’s going to find out sooner or later. What’s she going to do, alert the press?”

“She
is
the press, you idiot!”

“Whoops, I forgot about that. My bad,” he grinned.

“Your father has more problems than just tax evasion,” I said.

“Like what?”

“For starters,” Owen said, “he killed a man, and is responsible for at least one other death.”

“Really?” Ethan replied. “The old man actually killed someone? Himself? I didn’t think he had it in him. He always had Sims do his dirty work.”

“Sims?” I said.

“Yeah, Art Sims. Big dude, drives a truck.”

“We think he killed Sims,” T.J. told him. “A man fitting Sims’ description was found yesterday on a deserted road in his truck, dead. We have your father on survelliance video planting the gun on the Mathias estate.”

“He was trying to frame Jake?” Ethan said incredulously. “Unbelievable, even for him.”

“Actually, he was probably trying to frame Patricia,” T.J. replied. “Jake has been in the hospital the last few days. Sims tried to kill Jake and Lizzie by running them off the road.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,” I said. “We had dinner with him at the Black Rooster in Marion. As we were driving home, a man in a big truck started playing bumper cars with us, before he rammed us off the road. Jake was seriously injured; they had to remove his spleen.”

“What about you?” Ethan asked.

“A few stitches and bruises.”

“You said he was responsible for another death. Who?”

I looked at Owen, who shrugged, then nodded. “Ruthdale Simpkins.”

“My old English teacher? Good grief, why?”

“Jessica Mangrove.”

“What about her?”

“You were arrested for Jessica’s murder, were you not?” Owen said. Hopkins looked surprised to hear this.

“They let me go when they realized she had killed herself.”

“But she didn’t, did she?” Owen said. “Your father claimed you were at home all night, but he wasn’t for sure if you were actually there.”

“No one could prove anything. Her case was closed.”

“Actually, it’s been reopened.”

“They can’t do anything to me for that,” Ethan said.

“They can if they can prove she was murdered,” Owen told him.

Ethan’s face went pale. “What does all this have to do with Mrs. Simpkins?”

“Jake and I talked to Mrs. Simpkins, and she told us that you were with her in her classroom at the time Jessica died.”

“She did? Why would she do that?”

“I guess because she felt like you were being railroaded.”

“But if she’s dead, then it’s just heresay, right? No one can prove that I was with her that night.”

“And the real killer knows that,” I said.

Ethan sat there for a minute, thinking. “You think my father killed her, don’t you?”

“I think it’s possible. But someone told him what she told us. Whoever let him know that you had a solid alibi is just as culpable for Mrs. Simpkins’ death as the real killer. There’s only two people that we saw right after that: Kassandra Sherwood and Sage Kingsley.”

“Sage wouldn’t kill a spider if it ran over her foot. Kassie, on the other hand…”

“What about her?” T.J. said.

“She and my father have some kind of arrangement.”

“Was this before or after you sexually assaulted her?”

Hopkins’ eyes grew wide. “Before he what?”

I glared at him. “Surely you didn’t think I was the first one he went after, Hopkins? Didn’t you bother to do a background check on him before you granted him immunity?”

“I…um…well…that is to say…”

“What he’s trying to say is that his superiors were more interested in hanging my father out to dry, and they didn’t bother to look too closely at my past transgressions.”

I shook my head. “He’s assaulted at least seventy-five women…seventy-five, Hopkins. He used his daddy’s money to pay most of them off. I was one of the few that wouldn’t accept his money.”

“She doesn’t need your money,” he scoffed, “she’s loaded.”

“Hopkins!” I gasped.

“Oops, sorry,” he mumbled.

“Well, no wonder you won’t accept any of my gifts,” Ethan said.

“I wouldn’t have accepted your gifts even if I was as poor as a church mouse.” I glared at Hopkins. “What arrangement did your father make with Kassandra?”

“She agreed to play ‘I Spy’, and he made sure she would never want for anything.”

Leaning back in the chair, I shook my head. “I got that poor woman killed.”

“No, you didn’t, Lizzie,” T.J. said. “You had no way of knowing what was going on.”

“It is my fault. We went out there to find the truth about who killed him. I got Mrs. Simpkins killed, and it almost got Jake killed.” I stood up. “I can’t do this anymore,” I said, picking up my bag. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

“I’ll take you home,” T.J. offered.

“No, I want to be by myself. My car is over at the newspaper.”

“Want me to come by later with supper?”

“I don’t know. I’ll let you know.” I walked toward the door.

“Lizzie?” Ethan said.

“What?”

He came over to me. “May I ask you a question before you go?”

“Sure.”

“Did you really go out to Virginia to find my killer?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because even scum sucking pigs don’t deserve to die a horrible death.” I walked out.

Ethan turned around. “Did she mean that?”

“Yes, she did,” T.J. said.

“I…I don’t know what to say,” he said as he sat back down.

“For starters, you can leave her alone.”

“T.J.,” Owen said, shaking his head. “Maybe you should go after her.”

“Really? I don’t know…”

“I do. Get going,” Owen told him. T.J. looked at Ethan, started to say something, but changed his mind.

“T.J., before you go, I’ve got that information you asked for on Barbara Stephenson in my briefcase,” he said, flipping open a black case that was on the table. “Here you go.”

T.J. took the file and hurried out of the room.

“Why are you asking about Barbara?” Ethan said. “You don’t think she’s mixed up in this, do you?”

“Frankly, we don’t know what to think,” Owen said. “You’ve got more enemies than that ballplayer that was suspended last season for PEDs.” He looked at Hopkins. “Why did you stage his death in the first place?”

“Because someone really did try to kill him.”