Lizzy Gardner #2_Dead Weight (28 page)

“My irst time solving a real case,” Jessica said, “and I feel like crap for doing it. Some things are better left dead and buried.”

“I don’t agree,” Lizzy said. “Nothing but good comes from letting out the truth, or seeing the truth in Ruth’s case. I still hope Carol will say goodbye to her mom and give herself closure, too. After she does that, she and Dean should be able to go on with their lives without hiding from the world. It couldn’t have been easy for either of them. .hiding for so long.”

Disgusted, Jessica put the pictures away and was now staring at her iPhone, the one the police had retrieved from Dean Chandler. “Did you see the newest headline this morning in the
Sac Bee?
” Jessica asked.

Both Lizzy and Hayley shook their heads.

“Some guy named Peter was arrested on drug and sex traf icking charges. They found him after he went on a wild rampage beating every hooker he could get his hands on. Apparently someone used some sort of hot iron to carve letters into his chest and he was not happy about it.”

“What was on his chest? Some sort of cryptic message?” Hayley asked.

“No, not cryptic at all. The message was straightforward and to the point: Sick Fuck.”

Lizzy pointed a inger at Jessica. “I wonder if it was that same guy you found on the Internet. The man on the street corner who was caught on video?”

Jessica shook her head. “Two different instances. This Peter incident happened at least a week before the one we witnessed on the Internet. In fact, the reporter mentions both incidents.” She looked straight at Hayley and said, “He thinks Sacramento has a Seeker of Revenge on its hands.”

Chapter 36

Exercise Can Be Deadly

Lizzy didn’t feel good about leaving Hayley and Jessica in her apartment alone, just the two of them, but she didn’t have much choice. Besides, they looked as if they were warming up to one another. Truthfully, neither of them talked to the other any longer, which Lizzy figured was a good start.

For days now Lizzy had been meaning to stop by her sister’s house and let her know she wouldn’t be working out every morning. But once again that would have to wait. First, she planned to have a long talk with Melbourne and Jane. She had tried to do things Andrea’s way, but following Melbourne around wasn’t getting them anywhere.

And clearly, Andrea wasn’t being truthful with her.

It was time to sit down with Melbourne and ask the same questions the police had probably already asked him. Diane Kramer and Vivian Hardy could be in danger and it was time for Melbourne to fess up.

It was seven in the morning.

The rest of Melbourne’s posse usually arrived around seven thirty, even though class didn’t start until eight.

There were two cars parked outside, she noticed as she made her way to the front entrance. She walked inside. It was eerily quiet. The lights in the gym and the equipment had yet to be turned on. “Hello?”

she called out.

Nobody answered. She felt a prickling unease starting at the back of her neck. Something was very wrong. Listening for any sound at all, she reached over her shoulder, feeling for her Glock. She unsnapped the strap and pulled out her gun.

Pressing onward, she walked slowly in the direction of Melbourne’s of ice. About ten feet in front of his of ice was Jane’s desk. .and blood, lots of blood. Lizzy took a few steps backwards so that she could peer into the gym, looking for movement in the shadows, making sure nobody was hiding in the dark.

Convinced nobody was hiding in the gym, she took a closer look at the blood on the loor. From the looks of it, something had been dragged across the blood and into Melbourne’s of ice. Following the bloody path, she walked slowly through the open door and blew out some built-up tension at the horrid sight before her.

Anthony Melbourne lay dead on the loor. Jane was dead, too, her head resting against his chest.

Lizzy examined the room. There was a closet. Her heart beat faster.

She took quiet steps toward the closet door.

With her gun readied, she used her left hand to pull open the door.

The door knob hit the wall with a bang.

The closet was empty.

Turning back to the gruesome sight, she guessed that Melbourne had been in his of ice, perhaps sitting at his desk, when the killer walked in. From the looks of it, he came to his feet right before he was bludgeoned with one of two marble book ends that now lay on the loor in the corner of the room. He’d also been stabbed multiple times in every part of his body. The killer had made use of every utensil he or she could ind in Melbourne’s of ice. His engraved letter opener protruded from his left eye, the M on the handle clearly visible. A pencil had been stabbed through his neck. Every picture on his wall was either cracked or had been tossed in the garbage. And then there was Jane, lying in his arms.

Lizzy’s gaze followed the bloody path back out Melbourne’s of ice door. When somebody walked through the front entrance of the gym, the irst desk they came to, before arriving at Melbourne’s of ice door, was Jane’s.

Jane must have arrived just as the killer was done with Melbourne.

The killer didn’t waste any time inishing Jane off, too. Jane’s purse lay in the middle of the loor next to the biggest blood stain near her desk. Jane hadn’t had time to put her purse away. She was taken down before she could figure out what was going on.

After the killer left, Jane must have dragged herself into Melbourne’s of ice where she died with her head resting against his shoulder, tucked innocently in the crook of his arm as if they were both just taking a nap.

Lizzy walked back to where Jane’s purse lay and noticed a cell phone inside. Jane could have called 911. Instead, she chose to spend her last moments in Melbourne’s arms.

It dawned on Lizzy then.

She knew the killer personally. Her head snapped up and she looked outside toward the parking lot. “Andrea,” she said. “You bitch.”

***

After calling Detective Roth and waiting for him to arrive at the crime scene, Lizzy spent the next two hours answering questions. She told Roth she would either be at home or he could reach her on her cell if the police had further questions.

Lizzy drove as fast she could. She had illed up the shiny new Cadillac with gas and now she was making calls as she went.

She called Jessica irst. “Jessica, I’m headed east on Interstate 80

toward Nevada. Is Hayley there?”

“No. She said she was going out to get something to eat but that was hours ago. She hasn’t come back. Where have you been? I thought you were coming back to the apartment this afternoon.”

“I went to the gym to have a talk with Melbourne and Jane. They’re both dead. Murdered.”

Jessica gasped.

“I need you to do me a favor, Jessica. There are pictures on my desk in my bedroom. Hand drawn pictures of a lodge with lowers painted on it, daisies, I think. The actual sign is four feet by four feet. The problem is I don’t know the name of the lodge. I need you to get on the computer and do a search, ind anything at all that looks like the picture on my desk. If you ind something, I need you to call me back on my cell. It could be life or death.”

“Okay,” Jessica said. “Anything else I can do?”

“Detective Roth should be coming by to pick up the pictures of Frank and Carol Fullerton. I need you to give him the envelope.”

“Does he know how the pictures were obtained?” Jessica asked.

“No. And at this point I don’t see any reason why we should tell him.

If he asks, just tell him you have no idea.”

“Lizzy, I know you probably need to go, but I’ve wanted to talk to you about Hayley. I’m worried about her.”

“So am I,” Lizzy said. “So am I. But there isn’t a whole lot we can do today. Let’s help one person at a time. I’m afraid Vivian Hardy could be in a lot of trouble.”

“What about Diane Kramer?”

“If I can ind Vivian, I’m hoping Diane is there, too. Just keep your fingers crossed and call me if you find anything.”

***

Hayley pulled over to the side of the road. She looked at her map. X

marked the spot. She was close. Very close. A left on Hickory and then one more right turn and she would arrive at her final destination.

Tonight was the night.

For months, Hayley had been planning for this night.

The other guys she visited had deserved more than they got, but Brian would pay the ultimate price for all of them. Brian would pay for what he had done to her and her mother.

Hayley’s gaze fell on her nine ingers gripped to the steering wheel of Jessica’s car. She looked at the stub where her tenth inger used to be and realized she rarely gave Spiderman a irst or second thought.

Her therapist, the lady Lizzy insisted she talk to on a regular basis, was convinced that the missing digit was a constant reminder of that time in Hayley’s life. But the missing digit didn’t bother Hayley at all.

It was the feelings within, the hidden mental shit that nobody could see, that made Hayley feel as if she might go crazy if she didn’t find an outlet for the pent up anger she held inside. Her anger had nothing to do with Spiderman or her missing pinky inger and had everything to do with Brian. He was a cold bloodless creature who deserved to die.

Brian had taken her body, her spirit, and had destroyed the essence of her humanity. Years ago, Hayley had sought help at a rape crisis center. The woman who had greeted her and taken her in was kind and patient. She was pleased by Hayley’s ability to acknowledge the hurt and anger she felt toward her assailant. Hayley had spent two weeks talking with other rape victims. Ninety percent of the girls believed it was inappropriate to have feelings of hatred and vindictiveness for their assailant. These girls were trapped in a world of guilt that made no sense to Hayley. The people at the center were not aware that Hayley’s nightmare was ongoing. .a weekly, if not daily, ritual.

Hayley was sure she would never stop seeing Brian’s face hovering above hers: his breathing uneven, his stench unbearable. Even back then, Hayley knew how this would end. She just hadn’t known when it would happen.

Until now. It was time.

She inhaled deeply as she merged back onto the street.

She had left Lizzy’s apartment hours ago. After inding the brown paper bag taped under the bench at Marshal Park, she’d sat and waited for the sun to set. Lizzy and Jessica had been calling her all day, forcing her to turn off her cell phone. She had work to do.

Despite the hour, there were a few lost souls wandering the streets.

No gangs hanging out tonight. No Bloods or Crips on the street corner looking for trouble.

The less people, the better.

She made a left off of Florin. On the corner there was a two-story apartment building that looked abandoned. She made a right on Alita Road: a row of track homes with unkempt yards, broken windows, and graffiti.

There it was.

Brian’s house. The best looking house in the neighborhood, painted in neutral colors, with a fenced in front yard and lots of trees. She wasn’t sure if Brian’s bodyguard would be in attendance tonight, but there he was. Seeing the muscled man had been hit and miss when she did her drive-bys. But she had covered all her bases, which was exactly why she was wearing the same out it she’d worn for Dr.

Williams.

After passing Brian’s house, Hayley pulled up to the curb in front of the vacant house next door and shut off the engine. She got out and pretended to examine the back tire. When that was done, she opened the trunk and bent over, making sure Brian’s bodyguard had a good view of her assets.

“What’s the problem?” she heard a man ask.

She turned toward the approaching man. “I have a lat tire,” she said, feigning exasperation.

“Do you have a cell phone?”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you call a tow truck?”

She held up the tire iron in her hand. “I’m in a hurry and that would take forever. I’ll igure it out.” She went to look at the lat tire. She had let out just enough air earlier to make it look flat.

“Looks like you ran over a nail.”

“Yeah, looks like it.”

“You’re going to need a jack.”

“This is my friend’s car,” she said, leaning her hip against the car in a seductive pose. “Do you know where the jack would be stored?” She chewed on her bottom lip.

He let his eyes roam over her, his smile broadening. He glanced over his shoulder at Brian’s house, and then looked at her again. “I’ll help you out, but it’s going to cost you.”

He didn’t need to say another word. She knew exactly what he meant in terms of payment. “Sure, okay, but I don’t have a lot of time.”

“Five minutes of my time and five minutes of yours.”

She smiled. “Sounds fair to me.”

He chuckled and then leaned into the trunk in search of the jack.

Hayley lifted the tire iron and swung hard. She was ready to strike twice, but one good swing was all it took. Working fast, she grunted and heaved until she had the lower half of his body tucked neatly into the trunk. She grabbed the duct tape from her bag and wrapped it around his mouth. Her heart raced as she ripped the tape and then wrapped his ankles and his wrists. She shut the trunk and then slid in behind the wheel. She made a circle and parked her car closer to the apartment complex where few cars were parked. She jumped in the backseat, kicked off the heels and pulled off her skirt and blouse, and then slid on her pants and skull T-shirt. Next, she pulled off the fake eyelashes, using the lining of the skirt to wipe off her eye makeup and lipstick.

She slid on her shoes and didn’t bother to tie the laces before she grabbed her backpack. She grabbed the bottle of Jose Cuervo that she’d taken from Cathy’s liquor cabinet. She held the bottle up, making sure nobody would be able to tell that the liquor had been tainted. It looked perfect. She’d also found a miniature bottle of scotch, the kind of bottle they used to serve alcohol on airplanes. She unscrewed the cap and swallowed a mouthful, letting the alcohol drizzle down her chin and neck. She took another mouthful, then gargled and spit the rest outside on the street. She rubbed alcohol-covered hands through her hair. Working quickly, she leaned back into the car and this time grabbed the package from Dr. Williams.