Dying for Mercy with Bonus Material (22 page)

E
asing herself out of the bathtub, Eliza dried herself carefully. Her body ached all over. Her neck was stiff, her legs and arms felt heavy, and the palms of her hands hurt from the cuts she’d suffered climbing up the hill.

She put on a robe and lay down on the bed, noticing that Annabelle had left her cell phone on the table. Eliza picked it up and called Margo, who told her that Mack was still asleep but assured her that everything was going as well as could be expected. A security guard was posted outside Mack’s room.

“You should close your eyes and try to sleep, too,” said Margo.

Eliza knew she had some Advil in her purse, but she’d left that in the car. For the first time, she thought about her wallet and the credit cards and driver’s license that she needed to get back. The keys to her house in Ho-Ho-Kus were also in the bag.

Worried and vulnerable, Eliza got up and went back into the bathroom, where she found a bottle of aspirin in the medicine cabinet. She took three. But deep and satisfying sleep wouldn’t come as she lay down again on the bed. She kept drifting in and out of wakefulness.

Images of the accident ran through her mind. The terror of being pushed over the hillside, the fear of losing Mack, her flight to get help, hiding from the person who had attacked them so viciously, crouching in the darkness unsure of what to do, the sound of metal raining down against metal.
What was that noise?

Then the visions switched. Innis with the stigmata wounds and Zack, strangled and sitting in a chair, holding a reed scepter like royalty. There was something that connected them. But what?

A sharp knocking on the door downstairs startled Eliza. She got up and slowly descended the staircase. Before opening the front door, she looked out the window. Valentina Wheelock was standing outside with the security guard.

“I heard about what happened, and I’ve been trying to reach you, but there’s been no answer,” said Valentina, frowning.

“That’s because I left my phone at the scene of the accident. It wasn’t getting any reception there.”

Valentina shook her head in disgust. “We
have
to have something done about that. Cell service is so spotty up here. Maybe now that there’s been an accident where people’s lives were at stake, we can demand better service.” Valentina’s voice softened as she asked, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” said Eliza, opening the door wide for her to enter. “It’s Mack we have to worry about.”

Eliza gave Valentina details. “Valentina, all of this is connected with Innis’s death. I’m sure of it,” she said. “When we left your house after lunch yesterday, Mack and I went to Nine Chimneys. We found five carved wooden blocks inside the only standing chimney.” She nodded toward the table where the cubes still sat. “The blocks are just like the ones on your fireplace.”

“The ones that spell ‘ROMA’?”

“Yes,” said Eliza, “and look at this.”

Valentina followed her over to the table. Eliza arranged the wooden cubes and cutout paper squares to spell “crematory.”

Valentina held her hand to her chest. “My God. Was Innis telling us that Nine Chimneys was used as a crematorium? That someone was…cremated there?”

“I don’t know,” said Eliza. “Try to think back, Valentina. Can you remember when Nine Chimneys burned down? Was it before or after Marty O’Shaughnessy’s car was deserted on West Lake Road?”

The older woman’s face had turned ashen. “It was several
years
before,” she said slowly. “Let me see,” she said, her brows furrowing as she searched her memory. “Yes, I remember that I was pregnant with Rusty when the car was found, and Fitzroy and Unity had already been living in the apartment over the clubhouse for several years by then.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” said Eliza.

Valentina glanced at her watch. “I’m sorry, dear, but I have to get going to that Special Olympics thing.”

Eliza closed her yes. “Oh, I completely forgot about it.”

“And understandably so,” said Valentina.

“If you can wait for a few minutes, I’ll go upstairs and throw something on,” said Eliza, starting for the stairs.

Valentina took hold of her arm. “No one expects you to come, dear,” she said. “We couldn’t have known all that would happen when you committed to it. Everyone will understand.”

“I’ll just go for a little while,” said Eliza. “People are expecting me, and I don’t want to disappoint them. I had said I would go, and I will, if only for a little while.”

B
lue and white balloons decorated the fences surrounding the tennis courts while people watched the matches being played. Even the weakest serves and the shortest volleys elicited rousing cheers as the spectators rooted enthusiastically for the challenged yet determined athletes.

Eliza smiled, shook hands, and made conversation. As she walked through the crowd, accompanied by the security guard, she was aware of the stares and whispers that followed her. Most people came right out and asked her how she was and told her how worried and upset they were about her accident and all the other dreadful things that had been happening.

An attractive yet frantic-looking woman approached. “I’m Susannah Lansing,” she said, extending her hand. “And I want to thank you so much for coming today, especially after what you’ve just been through.”

“I’m glad I was able to make it,” said Eliza. “You’re the person who organized all this, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” said Susannah. “I’m flattered you knew that.”

“Valentina told me,” said Eliza. “She spoke quite highly of you.”

“She did?” Susannah asked with surprise.

“Yes.” Eliza nodded and gestured toward the tennis courts. “And I can see why.”

“You have no idea how much I appreciate hearing that,” said Susannah.

The cell phone she was carrying in the pocket of her jacket vibrated. It was Annabelle.

“What did you get at the press conference?” asked Eliza.

“Not that much,” said Annabelle. “They think Aurelia Patterson was killed with a hammer; besides that, the chief didn’t really divulge anything we hadn’t already suspected. Although when I asked him if there was anything particularly strange at Aurelia Patterson’s murder scene, he wouldn’t comment. But I got the distinct impression that he was holding back on something.”

“He doesn’t know that Aurelia told us about the staging of Zack Underwood’s body,” said Eliza.

“Right,” said Annabelle. “And neither does CBS, ABC, NBC, or any of the others, as far as I can tell. B.J. and I have to put together a piece on all this for the show tonight. A satellite truck is on its way so we can feed from here.”

“Where are you now?” asked Eliza.

“At the gate. The guard won’t let us back in again.”

“Put him on the phone,” said Eliza. “And when he lets you in, ask him how to get to the tennis house. I’ll be waiting.”

C
leo Vitalli finished her tennis game, a broad grin on her face, and applauded along with the spectators who clapped for her. Her big blue eyes searched from behind thick glasses, eager to find her father in the crowd and bask in his approval. But she couldn’t see him anywhere.

One of the policemen who worked for her dad had picked her up at home and driven her to the game. He’d said her father would be there in time to see her play and that he would take her home afterward. Not finding her father, Cleo was confused.

“Hey, Cleo. Nice game.”

Cleo turned in the direction of the voice. She smiled when she saw Rusty. When they were little, she and Rusty had played together, but when they got bigger, Rusty had other things to do and couldn’t play with her anymore. She still liked him. She missed him and wished she saw him more.

“Hi, Rusty,” she said shyly.

“You did a great job out there, Cleo.”

“Thank you.” She cast her eyes downward.

“Where’s your father?” asked Russell.

“I don’t know,” she said. “He’s supposed to be here.”

“Let’s see if we can find him.” Russell held out his hand, and Cleo eagerly took it.

E
liza was tired, sore, and having a hard time keeping a pleasant smile on her face. She couldn’t wait for Annabelle and B.J. to arrive so they could take her back to the hospital to be with Mack. When yet two more people approached her, it was all she could do to stop herself from running away.

“Hello, Ms. Blake, my name is Colleen D’Alessandro, and this is my husband, Hank.”

Eliza shook their hands.

“It’s so good of you to come today,” said Colleen.

“Especially after what happened to you last night,” said Hank.

Eliza nodded, too exhausted to talk.

“We almost didn’t come today ourselves,” said Colleen. “We were so upset by what happened yesterday.”

“We were the ones who found Aurelia Patterson’s body,” said Hank.

Eliza felt a surge of energy.

“We were out for our walk, and that poor border collie was barking and barking. I knew he was trying to tell us something,” said Colleen.

“I followed the dog into the woods, and there she was, her head beaten in, lying on the ground.” Hank shuddered. “It was awful.”

“Tell her about the dice, Hank.”

“Yeah, I can’t figure this,” said Hank. “The woman had a pair of dice in her hand, like she was ready to roll ’em. What do you think that was all about?”

C
hief Vitalli got out of the police vehicle and headed for the tennis courts. He looked for his daughter but didn’t see her. Checking with one of the volunteers, he learned that Cleo had finished her game half an hour earlier.

He felt downhearted at the thought that he not only missed seeing Cleo play but hadn’t been there to greet her and celebrate when she walked off the court. Cleo didn’t get all that many opportunities to shine. He didn’t get all that many opportunities to rejoice.

Damn that news conference.

As he searched the area for his daughter, Clay was stopped by residents wanting to question him about what was going on. He put them off, saying that commenting could jeopardize the ongoing investigation. Most of them seemed satisfied with his response; some of them were angry.

Maybe Cleo went into the tennis house.

Clay went inside to look for his daughter. She wasn’t in the trophy room or the exercise room. She wasn’t on the real tennis court. As he went deeper down the hallway, Clay began calling out her name.

Where is she?

When he reached the back of the building, Clay started to panic. What if Cleo had wandered away? What if someone had lured her to go off with him? She was so trusting. No matter how many times she’d been taught otherwise, Clay continued to suspect that anyone could talk Cleo into doing anything, because she wanted to please. For Clay, it was a source of continuing anxiety and the reason for many sleepless nights.

He approached the door to the racket court where he and Fitzroy and Peter had met a few nights before, the dark, closed-in space with thick concrete walls and no windows. A perfect place to do something you didn’t want anyone else to see.

Trying not to make any noise as he opened the door, Clay saw Cleo standing on the cement floor—and Russell Wheelock close beside her.

A
s soon as she saw the car drive up, Eliza hurried to meet it.

“Guess what I just heard,” she said as she got into the backseat. Without waiting for Annabelle or B.J. to answer, Eliza continued. “Aurelia Patterson was found with dice clasped in her hand.”

“Dice?” asked B.J. as he maneuvered the car out of the parking area, with the security vehicle close behind. “As in gambling?”

“Yeah, or game playing,” said Eliza. “In either case, I doubt that Aurelia was carrying a pair of dice while she was walking her dog.”

“So Zack was strangled with some sort of leather strap and then positioned on his throne with a reed scepter,” mused Annabelle. “And Aurelia was hammered to death and then dice were put in her hand?”

“What are we supposed to make out of that?” asked B.J.

“The only connections I see are, one, both victims knew each other and worked together and, two, the murderer is staging his crime scenes.”

The three of them were quiet as they considered what they knew so far.

“Think we should include this in tonight’s piece?” asked Annabelle, finally breaking the silence.

“No doubt about it, we should,” said Eliza. “The police didn’t ask that we refrain from reporting it. They didn’t even give us this information. We uncovered it ourselves, from eyewitnesses, and we have every reason to report it. It’s news.”

C
lay reached out and grabbed Russell by the collar of his shirt.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? If you touched her, I swear to God, Rusty, I’m gonna make you wish you’d never been born.”

Russell’s face was beet red. “Calm down, Clay. Calm down. It’s not what you think.”

“What is it, then?”

“Cleo and I came in here to practice. Didn’t we, Cleo?”

Clay looked at his daughter. Her blue eyes were open wide. Her cheeks were flushed. Her sweat suit was rumpled.

“We were practicing hitting with the rackets,” Russell continued. “Weren’t we, Cleo?”

Cleo said nothing, her mouth agape.

“See, Clay? The rackets and the balls are right there.” Russell pointed to the sports equipment. “Cleo asked me if I would play with her.”

“Did you, Cleo?” asked Clay.

Her eyes filled with tears at the angry tone of her father’s voice. Her lips quivered, and she started to cry.

Clay knew better than to push his daughter any further. Continuing to confront Russell in front of Cleo would be a big mistake, only making her inconsolable.

He hadn’t actually seen Russell touching Cleo, but Clay worried he might have.

There’ll be another time and place to take care of Russell.

As he escorted his daughter out of the tennis house, Chief Clay Vitalli did wish that Russell Wheelock had never been born. The young man’s existence had wreaked havoc with his life and so many others.