Key to Love (33 page)

“I believe they knew each other, yes.”

Elise stood. “One more thing, Linda. Did Ted Meyer know about any of this?”

This time Linda looked up and laughed a soft, cynical laugh. “There’s nothing around this town Ted Meyer doesn’t know. Are we finished? I have work to do.” She turned back to her computer, signaling the discussion was ended, and added, “Thanks for the coffee.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Outside, Elise checked her watch and paused to think things over. Having a confrontation with Clarisse Fisher was not on her list of favorite things to do, but it couldn’t be avoided. On her way over to Clarisse’s apartment, she stopped at the Bank of America on Linden Street, used her ATM card at the drive-thru, and pulled into an empty parking space in the bank’s parking lot. She cut the engine. The wind had kicked up and a food wrapper and paper cup tumbled about, dumped out by an uncaring litterbug.

She called home to check on her dad. Cindy answered on the first ring and told her Chuck Sanders had called, but hadn’t left a message, and an hour later, Paul Winston had also called, but didn’t bother to leave a message either. She was not surprised to hear her father was happily engaged in teaching Todd how to play checkers. The man loved children. Better yet, she was pleased to know dinner was taken care of. Cindy was busy making a pan of lasagna and homemade bread.

“Where’s Lucas?” Elise asked.

“He’s at the showroom, checking on the construction crew. He said to tell you to stop by. He needs to talk to you. It’s important,” Cindy said.

Elise felt sorry for leaving so abruptly. She knew she had stomped on his feelings. She was in love with him, and he was the last person she ever wanted to hurt. He was a businessman, plain and simple. The more she thought about it, the more she realized he wouldn’t have invested to hurt her. He was not a man to do damage of any kind to anyone. She rubbed her eyes with her hands. Why was she feeling so edgy? She was tired, she decided. She had been living on adrenaline for days now. Her head hurt and her body ached from the fall at the cottage, and Mike Fisher’s murder was scratching at her inner thoughts with a vengeance. She had hoped all her efforts would have unearthed one clue or made one connection to what really happened the night of his death. To make matters worse, she had less than twenty-four hours until Nick Peters reported the missing drug money was found.

“Okay,” she told Cindy, “I’ll swing by the garage.” She was about to start her car and back out of the parking spot when Nick phoned.

“Yeah?” she asked shutting down the engine again.

“Frightfully polite, Ms. Springer.”

“Well, pal, I’ve hit a brick wall. I’m too weary and disgruntled to be polite. What do you have?”

“I rechecked the phone records,” Nick said. She could hear him moving papers around again on his desk of disaster. “I’ve got it right here. An hour before he left his shift at 11 p.m., Mike got a call from the Meyer home. However, Ted was on duty as well, so it must have been a call from Mary Jo about Todd because he returned it before he left the barracks at the end of his shift.”

“Any others?”

“None relating to anything other than routine work.”

“Okay, well, it was a shot,” she said and heaved a sigh.

“Hey, stay merry, keep the chin up, don’t get discouraged yet,” Nick said. “Eventually, something will pop up or something will shake loose to give us the lead we need. All we need is one spark, one clue, one thought or one thread that starts to unravel, and then everything falls into place like a jigsaw puzzle.”

She sighed again. “Yeah, thanks, Nick, but if this day gets any merrier, I’ll have to hire clowns to spread the joy around.” She heard him chuckle as she disconnected her cell phone.

Minutes later, as Elise arrived at Clarisse’s apartment, she pondered all the things she’d like to tell the woman before she went inside, reached out, and choked her scrawny neck. It was obvious Clarisse had a hand in trying to get Lucas out of Scranton and back to Atlanta. But why?

Elise pulled her car into a spot in front of the building, which looked even more tired and run-down than last week. Besides the garbage cans, recycling bins of cans, glass, and plastics now stood with their contents overflowing onto the weed-lined walk leading to the stairs. Someone had even abandoned a ratty-looking blue lounge chair in the center of the sidewalk, and Elise had to step around it to reach the first step.

Clarisse answered on the first knock.

“You again?” she asked. “This is an unexpected pleasure. Keep it up and someone might start thinking we’re friends.” Clarisse laughed her high-pitched laugh.

“We need to talk,” Elise said, not trying to hide her irritation as she pushed past Clarisse. The inside of the apartment was worse than the last time she was there. More blouses, slacks, and sweaters were discarded over the chairs and sofa, and it looked like a shoe store had exploded over the worn shag carpet. Dirty dishes and empty wine bottles littered the kitchen counter top. Clarisse scooped up a load of jackets from the same chair Elise used before and dumped them on the couch.

As usual, Clarisse was wearing her signature bright red lipstick and red nails, and she wore at least three cheap bracelets on her wrist to accessorize her black leggings and a white shirt tunic with a green turtleneck sweater underneath. She looked like a stork.

“I’m tired, I have a headache, and my patience is worn thin,” Elise admitted with a scowl and sat down. “So let’s not concoct any more misinformation. I already know you sent Monique a bouquet of flowers and signed it from Lucas Fisher. Just tell me why.”

Clarisse quipped back, “My, my, testy, aren’t we?”

“Why, Clarisse? Don’t make me hurt you. My tank of compassion is on empty.”

Clarisse gave a flippant shrug. “I wanted him out of the picture. I thought if he got back with Monique, he would give up the idea of staying in Scranton. The undercover money was never found. I wanted it.”

“Did you want it enough to kill Mike Fisher?”

Clarisse laughed heartily, a high-pitched tone that rippled out and cackled like a witch. “Would I tell you if I did?” She shook her head. “No, I didn’t kill Mike. Our relationship was over with the divorce. It was a mistake from the start and both of us knew it.”

“How does Jack Morrison fit into the picture? And don’t tell me you don’t know him.”

“I figured you’d eventually catch me on that little white lie,” Clarisse admitted. “People saw us together at Two Horses and around town before we split.”

“Get to the point, Clarisse.”

“We were just friends. We dated a few times. I loved to motor around in Jack’s white Mercedes, and he sure knew how to show a girl a good time. We went to the best restaurants in the area and gambled at all the casinos in the state. Do you have any idea how nice it was to have someone else serving the best booze to me for a change? So when I found out Lucas was back in town and trying to get custody of Todd, I pressured Jack to send Todd back to New Castle. I was hoping to get Lucas to leave.” She grew more heated as she spoke. “After all, there was a rumor the drug money was somewhere near $100,000. I figured Mike had to have stashed it somewhere close. I figured I could buy me some time so I could find the will, too. I should be the one to get Mike’s money and property since I was his wife.”

“Was.” Elise looked at Clarisse, who was pacing the room now, flinging her hands into the air as she spoke. Elise saw flashes of light as the sunlight from a window caught the rhinestones in her bracelet. Her eyes widened. Fear and uneasiness washed over her as scenes from the cottage tumbled wildly in her brain. It all came flying back. She was certain she was having a déjà-vu moment. She gritted her teeth, holding her raw emotions in check while she fought back an urge to leap up and throttle Clarisse with her bare hands. She remembered being hit at the cottage, and the last thing she saw before she felt the blow were flashes of sparkling light. It was the rhinestones or the bright metal of Clarisse’s bracelet reflecting sunlight from the cottage window.

Elise sucked in a lengthy breath of air and let it out slowly. “So it was you who dug through the boxes in the shed and later hit me over the head.” She shook her head and didn’t even try to hide her irritation or disgust. “Wow, I’m afraid to ask what your next idea would have been if you didn’t knock me completely out. I have stitches and a concussion for your moment of insanity.”

“You can’t prove anything!” Clarisse snapped and glowered at her.

“If I have the police lift fingerprints off the boxes in the shed, none will match yours, right? Be reasonable, it’s only a matter of time before you become a suspect in Mike’s murder.”

“I didn’t kill Mike!” Clarisse was near hysterical now. “Okay, I snooped through a few boxes. If you hadn’t been so nosey and surprised me, you wouldn’t have been hurt.”

Elise looked at her now with open disdain. Clarisse had just confessed to the assault. Elise took another deep breath and tried another tactic. “The night Mike died, where were you, Clarisse?”

“I was working at Two Horses. You can ask anyone. Even the bartender. Hell, ask Ted Meyer, he was there. He took Jack home that night. The poor schmuck was so plastered he could barely stand up. He was so drunk Meyer used Jack’s car instead of the squad car for fear Jack was going to get sick and muck it up. Word around the bar was Jack owed over twenty five grand for weed stolen from the trunk of his car before he was even able to distribute it and collect his money. Talk about getting on the wrong side of bad people. Yeah, I think I’d get pretty slammed too if I owed money to a drug ring.”

Elise opened her mouth to speak, but Clarisse cut her off, pointing to the door. “Now get out of here! I’m tired of your insinuations I had anything to do with Mike’s death. Did you ever consider the fact it just might have been an accident? I’m tired of your high and mighty attitude. Get out.”

Elise rose and returned her hostile stare. She was beyond intimidation at this point. “Just a friendly warning, Clarisse. I wouldn’t consider going anywhere in next few days. I don’t know yet whether Lucas wants to press charges for breaking and entering, and I haven’t decided what I plan to do about assault charges. If you take off, I promise you, I’ll have the police hunt you down and drag you back by your ugly, bleached blonde hair!”

Back in the parking lot, Elise slid into the driver’s seat and leaned her head against the headrest. She let out an exhausted breath of air. She touched the stitches in her hairline and winced. Thoughts from her conversation with Clarisse were tangled like a big ball of yarn. This was one of those unlucky days, Elise decided, when jumping out of a plane with a parachute would be a bad idea. The chute probably wouldn’t open and she’d bet the bank the back-up chute wouldn’t either.

As she threaded her way back through Dunmore toward Interstate 81 and the on-ramp at Exit 188, she pulled off along the road and scrolled through her contact list to find the airline’s number to book a flight back to San Francisco on Sunday. Before she could find the number, her phone rang. “Dang,” she said aloud, when she realized it was Paul Winston calling. “Good-bye, back-up chute.” Disappointed she couldn’t speak with Chuck Sanders first, she put Paul on speakerphone, laid the phone on the console between the seats, and pulled back onto the highway.

“Hello, Paul,” she said.

“I’ve tried to get you for the last four hours, Elise! Where on earth are you?”

“Yeah, well, I was just about to book a flight for Sunday to see you when your call interrupted me,” she shot back.

His demeanor instantly changed. “This is good news! Real good news. Chuck will be so delighted to hear you’re coming back.”

Elise stopped for a red light and watched a mother with a little boy cross in front of her. The child skipped gaily along, chattering away to his mom who seemed delighted to be engaged in conversation with him. That’s what I want, she thought, staring at them as she waited for the light to change. That’s exactly what I want with Todd. I want a cheerful, fun-filled, and solid loving relationship with both a man and a child I’ve come to adore. She watched them for a second longer until the light turned and someone behind beeped his horn. Elise blinked, forcing herself back to reality.

“Are you still there, Elise?” Paul asked.

“Yes.”

“Elise, is something the matter?”

Elise smiled. “No, nothing is the matter. Everything is perfectly fine. I was going to talk to you about working here on the East Coast, but I’ve changed my mind.”

“Excellent. That’s even better news,” she heard Paul Winston say.

“Do me a favor, Paul, tell Chuck I quit. He can call me if he’d like when he gets a few minutes. I’ve decided I’m flying back long enough to collect my personal things from the office and to have my belongings from my apartment shipped back East. I’ve finally realized the people and things I love are right here. I’m setting up my own office in Scranton. Tell Chuck I appreciate everything he has done for me. Naturally, I appreciate all you’ve done.”

“Wait! What? Quit?” Paul Winston’s voice rose another octave. “You’re going to ruin your career! You haven’t thought this through, Elise. You’re going to regret an impetuous move like this. Why do you want to destroy everything we’ve built over the years? What will I tell our clients? You’re only thinking of yourself again
,
as always. You’re so selfish. You can’t be serious—”