Obsessed (The Lizzy Gardner Series) (11 page)

CHAPTER 21

The first thing Dr. Madeline Blair did when she walked into work the next morning and saw blood dripping down the middle of the receptionist’s face was let out a high-pitched squeak. It took Madeline a second to recall that today was Halloween.

Cindy picked up a butcher knife and stabbed it into the air, replaying the scene from
Psycho
, complete with her own rendition of crazy background music.

“Very funny,” Madeline said after drawing in a deep breath. “Do I have any calls from David Westlake?” After his last call in to her show, her ratings skyrocketed and she had David to thank for it. She’d left a message on his cell phone at the beginning of the week, but he had yet to call her back. She was dying to let him know what a big difference he made. She owed him big-time.

Cindy’s eyes grew round. “You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?”

“I saw it on the news this morning. Mr. Westlake has been missing for a few days now. They found his car parked at his work, but nobody has seen him.”

Stunned, Madeline didn’t know what to say.

“Dr. Blair,” the receptionist called before Madeline could slip her key in the electronic device to get into the main part of the building. She held up an envelope. “I have something for you.”

Madeline took the envelope, and then swiped her card to get to her office. She passed the control room where the board operator was preparing for a show, then stepped inside her office and shut the door behind her. David couldn’t possibly be missing. Where would he go? She shuffled through her purse, found her cell phone and called his wife.

“Debra, it’s Madeline. The receptionist told me she saw something on the news about David missing. What’s going on?”

“Listen, Madeline. I’m talking to a detective right now. I’ll have to call you back.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? Take the girls to school for you?”

“My parents have the girls. I’ll call you later.”

Madeline disconnected and put her phone to the side. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She turned on her computer and read through her contact list for the number of David’s good friend John. He was shocked by the news, but he hadn’t seen David in over a month. She made a dozen more calls just like that one. Nobody had seen David.

Her gaze settled on the envelope. Wondering if it could be from David, she ripped it open and pulled out a note. Every letter was a different size and color, carefully cut out from a magazine:
I KNOW WHAT YOU DID.

Her insides tightened. She examined the note and the envelope closely, but there was nothing to clue her in as to who might have made the note. She grabbed her key card and walked back to the receptionist’s desk. “Could you tell me who delivered the envelope you gave me?”

“I have no idea. It was here on my desk when I arrived this morning.”

“Did you see anyone outside when you drove up?”

The receptionist shook her head. “What’s going on, Dr. Blair?”

“Nothing. Never mind. Please let me know right away if anything else comes in for me.”

“Yes, of course. Are you sure you’re OK?”

Without giving her an answer, Madeline went back to her office. Her phone was ringing. It was Debra. She hit talk and asked, “Did they find him?”

“The police want to talk to you, Madeline.”

“Yes, of course. I can come to your house right now.”

“No. Not here.” Debra’s tone was flat, emotionless.

“What’s going on?”

“They have a few questions, that’s all. Detective Chase is right here and he’d like to talk to you.”

Debra handed the phone over before she could protest.

“I can be at your office at two o’clock on Monday afternoon,” Detective Chase said in a gruff voice. “Does that work for you?”

Madeline looked at all the papers scattered across her desk. “I would prefer to meet you at my house.” After he agreed, she gave him her address and the call ended.

Madeline didn’t know what to think. What was going on? She couldn’t imagine where David might have gone. Had he and Debra squabbled? If so, where would he go? David used to spend weekends fishing. Maybe things weren’t going well at work or at home and he’d decided to pack up and spend some time with his thoughts. But why wouldn’t he tell someone where he was going?

Her current line of thinking prompted her to think about her neighbor Chris. She had been so busy lately, so worried about her ratings and her career, that she’d hardly given Chris much thought. A few days ago, she’d stopped by his house on the way home from work. Since he didn’t answer the door, she’d assumed he was visiting his daughter. At the time, it hurt her a little to think he wasn’t able to take a minute to call her and let her know when he would be back. She looked at her calendar now and realized she hadn’t talked to Chris in weeks.

Her heart raced in earnest.

She tried to recall whether Chris had ever talked to her about other family members or friends in the area, but it was no use; she drew a blank.

She gave the cryptic, creepy note one last glance before placing it inside her purse. On her way out, she told the receptionist she would be back in time for her show. She needed to take a ride and calm herself down. David was fine, she told herself. Chris, too.

CHAPTER 22

Hayley rubbed the sleep from her eyes, then looked at the clock on the nightstand: ten o’clock. It took her a minute to figure out that it was Saturday. She hadn’t fallen asleep until well past two.

The sheets twisted beneath her as she turned over. Her arm dangled over the side of the bed. She might have fallen back to sleep if Dog hadn’t walked over and put his slobbery tongue on her bare arm.

“Knock it off, Dog.”

He barked.

“OK, OK.” She got up, put on a pair of sneakers and a sweatshirt, then grabbed the dog’s leash and headed outside. Before she could clip the leash to his collar, Dog ran down the stairs and disappeared around the corner of the building.

Becca was sitting on her porch step, smoking a cigarette. “What are you doing up so early?” she asked Hayley.

“Dog is messing with my lifestyle.”

“Is that his name?”

“I let Hudson name him,” Hayley said.

“Great. Ever since you got that mutt, Hudson won’t stop badgering me. He wants a dog, too.”

“You can have this one.”

“No, thanks.”

Hayley turned her face toward the sky. “A little sunshine. It’s about time.”

“I haven’t thanked you yet for paying off my debt.”

Hayley didn’t need or want to be thanked, so she said nothing.

“I got a job downtown. I’m a barista. Pretty fancy, huh?”

“Impressive. Where’s Hudson?”

“He’s looking around the house for loose change. We need milk.”

“Hey, Hudson,” Hayley called out. “Walk me and Dog to the store and I’ll buy you some milk and a doughnut.”

Hudson came running. The screen door slammed shut behind him.

“Can I go with her?”

Becca exhaled a thick stream of smoke. “Sure, yeah, you two have fun.”

Dog was already galloping around in the park by the time they caught up to him.

“If Mom says I can have Dog,” the kid said, “can he be my dog?”

“Might as well be. I don’t want him.”

“Mom won’t like it.”

“As long as I feed Dog and let Dog sleep at my house, I think she’ll be fine with it.”

Hudson looked hopeful. “Maybe she’ll let Dog sleep over sometimes.”

“Maybe.”

“Mom hasn’t been yelling so much lately.”

“Have you been doing your chores?”

He wrinkled his nose.

“If you clean your room and help cook dinner sometimes, I bet you she’ll let Dog sleep over.”

“Did your husband run away, too?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t want one.”

“Maybe the boys are afraid of your knives.”

“Could be.”

The kid didn’t usually talk much, but today was the exception. He asked another fifty questions by the time they bought groceries and headed back across the park toward home.

Hayley led the dog and carried the groceries while Hudson enjoyed his maple doughnut. When the kid looked up at her, his face was covered with a thin coating of sticky maple glaze. He looked happy and for a moment Hayley forgot about everything rotten in her life.

Dog barked at something or someone behind her. Hudson looked back toward the market, pointed, and said, “Who’s that?”

Hayley looked over her shoulder. Her heart dropped to her stomach. A tall guy, big boned, with tree trunks for legs, was coming their way. His gait was steady, his gaze unflinching, both hands hidden within the front pockets of a zippered jacket. His face was unreadable. No expression whatsoever. He looked like a man on a mission.

She and Kitally had spent the past three nights passing out cards, letting every goon in Sacramento know they were offering a cash reward for any tip leading to Brian’s whereabouts. She knew it was only a matter of time before Brian got word. She just hadn’t thought she’d hear from one of his messengers so soon. She needed to get the kid moving.

“Come on, Hudson. Let’s get you home.” She handed him the leash. “Let’s see if Dog can run faster than you.”

Hudson loved to run. And that’s all it took to get him going.

She glanced over her shoulder again. The man began to jog.

Hudson was having too much fun. He wasn’t taking the game seriously enough. A cold chill ran through her. She gripped the kid’s shoulder. “Hudson. If you can make it back to the house in two minutes, I’m going to give you five dollars.”

“You swear?”

“I promise. Go! Now! Run!”

He ran so fast, she was afraid he might trip over his own feet. Dog ran after him, barely able to keep up with the kid.

Hayley didn’t bother running at all. She turned and waited for the man to catch up to her. She’d left her apartment so fast, she hadn’t brought anything with her. No knives, no Taser, no weapon of any kind, not even her stick.

So this would be it. She hadn’t planned to go out this way. For two years now, she envisioned being alone in a room with Brian. She’d planned to wait for him to make the first move, and when he did, she’d pull out her sticks, her knives, every weapon she had on her body. After he was dead, his friends would show up and she would claw and fight until her last breath; as long as Brian Rosie was dead, she could deal with that.

Hayley kept her gaze on the man’s face with an occasional glance to his hands, which were hidden within deep pockets. If the brute didn’t stop and shoot her, if he came up close enough, she might have a chance. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. She was ready.

Six feet away from her, he stopped and stood stock-still.

Hudson and Dog were long gone.

Hayley stood motionless, feet apart, hands at her sides. If he pulled out a gun from where he stood, she would be too far away to do anything about it.

“Kristin Swift,” he said in a raspy voice.

“What?”

“Wolf sent me. He said you needed a name. It’s Kristin Swift.”

She let out a breath. Holy shit. “That’s it?”

“You’re not easy to find. Next time, you might want to leave a number or some way to reach you. I’ve been running around this city looking for you for two days.”

“Well, you found me.”

Leaving her with a grunt, he turned back the other way and walked off.

As Hayley watched him go, she realized she was losing her edge. She never should have walked out of the house unprepared. It wouldn’t happen again.

CHAPTER 23

Detective Chase was intimidating as all get-out. Tall and broad shouldered, he came across as ultraconfident and larger than life.

Uncharacteristically, Madeline felt like the complete opposite of confident—timid and apprehensive. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t relax. Her palms were sweaty and she found it difficult to catch her breath.

For the past twenty minutes, the detective had sat on her leather ottoman, facing her straight on. He kept scribbling in his notebook after asking the same questions over and over, making the past five minutes feel like hours. He worded his questions in a way that tended to put her on the defensive. Simply put, Detective Chase was starting to piss her off. “David was my best friend,” she said in answer to his question about why she and David talked on the phone so often.

“You’ve said that.”

“I didn’t see you write it in that notebook of yours.”

“Debra Westlake told me the same thing—you and David were best friends. It’s all in the reports. Nothing for you to get worked up about.”

She let out a caustic breath. “If you think that’s worked up, you haven’t seen anything.”

He straightened, like a big, mean grizzly bear being challenged. “Is that right?”

Shit. Talk about putting her foot in her mouth. He was making her feel as if she should call a lawyer. “Listen,” she said in a calm voice. “More than anything, I want to help you find David, but I don’t understand how asking me the same question over and over is going to assist you in that endeavor.”

He ignored her statement and simply asked her another question. “Debra Westlake mentioned that you asked her husband to call in to your radio show recently. Can you tell me more about that?”

Damn.
“No problem. David has listened to my shows for years and he sometimes calls in to ask questions to help get things moving along.”

“Moving along?”

“Yes, to get listeners involved. For instance, one time he called in to the show to ask about depression—”

“Was he depressed?” The detective scribbled in his notebook.

She gritted her teeth. “No. David was
not
depressed.”

“But he called in to your show to talk about depression.”

“That’s right. He was helping me out by pretending to be a caller and thus getting a conversation going about depression.”

“Who decided which subject he would talk about?”

“I really don’t remember. It could have been either of us. That really isn’t important.”

More scribbling in his beloved notebook. She wanted to snatch it from him and rip it to shreds. “Listen, Detective. I’ve told you everything I know. I do need to get to work soon.”

“Your
best
friend is missing, but you’re eager to get back to work?”

Son of a bitch
. She bit her tongue and remained silent. She had a tremendous urge to bite her nails, a habit she gave up years ago.

“When a person goes missing,” he told her, “we often set up a tip line, you know, for people to call in if they know anything.”

She waited for him to elaborate.

“We received a tip recently from an anonymous caller claiming to be one of your listeners.”

She straightened her spine. “Really? Who?”

“Even if the caller had left his or her name, I wouldn’t be at liberty to say. I will tell you, Dr. Blair, this one particular caller seems to know a lot about you and adamantly believes you are up to no good.”

Madeline thought about the note still tucked away inside her purse. “Up to no good? What does that mean?”

“I was hoping you could tell me.”

“I really don’t know what to tell you, Detective. I get strange calls from listeners all of the time. Just ask my board operator.”

“I plan to.”

“Why do I get the feeling you think I might have something to do with David’s disappearance?”

“I don’t know why you would feel that way, but now that you’ve brought it up, is there anything you’re not telling me? Anything at all?”

She locked her fingers together, not quite sure if she was doing the right thing. But it was the truth and everything would work to her advantage if she just told the truth. “I do have a concern.”

He said nothing, simply waited.

“There’s a man in the neighborhood who I’ve been seeing for the past month. His name is Chris Porter. As soon as I learned that David was missing, it dawned on me that I haven’t heard from Chris in weeks.”

“Have you gone to his house?”

She nodded. “A week ago I knocked on the door, but there was no answer.”

“Did you report this to the police?”

“No, because I vaguely recalled him saying something about visiting his daughter. I guess I just thought he would have returned by now or at least called me to let me know when he would be back.”

Judging by the look on Detective Chase’s face, the truth wasn’t helping her much. Once again, he scribbled in his precious notebook. “Daughter’s name?” he asked.

She felt heat rise to her face. “I don’t remember.”

“Does he have family or friends we can call?”

“Not that I know of.” She sighed. This was not going well.

The detective gave her a long, hard look before he came to his feet. “Why don’t you show me where Chris Porter lives.”

She stood, relieved to be done with the inquisition.

“Before we visit your neighbor, I wanted to ask you about a novel titled
Obsessed
.”

She couldn’t begin to imagine where he was going with this. “Never heard of it.”

“Beau Geste is the author.”

Drawing a blank, she shook her head again.

“The caller I talked about referenced the book. He believes you’re following the story to a tee.”

“I don’t understand,” she said. “What’s the book about?”

“It’s gruesome, evidently. Set in a small town. People are disappearing. The killer turns out to be a woman, a radio personality.”

Madeline crossed her arms. “This is ridiculous.”

The detective pointed to her wall of books in the family room. “Mind if I take a look?”

“Be my guest.”

She followed him into the other room. After only a few minutes passed, he pulled a book from the shelf and held it up for her to see.

Obsessed
by Beau Geste. Her heart hammered. “This is crazy. I have no idea how that book got there.”

He opened the book and read aloud, “‘Thanks for being my number-one fan.’ Signed, Beau Geste.”