Provoked (9 page)

              Lynette pulled back the white sheet that lay over the body. Riley stepped in closer. He remembered her face from the photograph. He’d found Beth. Now he’d find out what happened to her and hopefully at whose hands she died?

              “That’s her. Name is Beth Wilson. Address you already have. I’ll send you a copy of the missing person’s report with all available personal information on her.”

              Lynette thanked him and covered Beth’s face.

Riley answered his cell when he noticed Kennedy’s name on the display.

“They found Beth’s body.” He tucked the phone under his chin and thanked Lynette. Riley swung the big grey door open with one push. He chuckled from Kennedy’s tone and question of why he didn’t wait for his partner.

“Sorry, man, had an appointment early this morning and then got the call. It was on my way...” He paused and then informed Kennedy he’d see him back at the precinct shortly.               Beth’s body triggered Riley’s memory to the boxes he’d left in his trunk; her personal items. He unlocked the trunk and opened one of the boxes. He found a few childhood items: a teddy bear, ballet slippers, and then noticed a writing journal on top of books. Riley figured the books caused the heavy weight. He remembered Adam’s strength. 
Let’s hope she’s left a few clues in her journal.
He set it aside and opened the other box filled with trinkets, a collection of music CDs, and female personal items. What caught his eye was a snow globe. He picked it out of the box. A village and mountains inside, with the name plate that read Zakopane, Poland. Intrigued, he flipped it over and was shocked from what he read. Not the message, ‘Childhood memories are the best to hold dearly,’ but the signature; ‘Love, Basia.’ It wasn’t a common name, to him anyway.
Is this from my Basia?
  Riley took the snow globe and the journal, and then closed the trunk. He slid behind the steering wheel and wondered if indeed it was
his
Basia and how she knew Beth.

“How was Beth killed?” Kennedy confronted Riley as soon as he stepped foot in the precinct.

“The autopsy is scheduled for later this morning. Lynette said she’d call with the findings. But I found these in Beth’s boxes. I forgot we had those in my trunk.”

Riley went straight to his desk. He set the globe down and waved the journal in his hand. “Let’s hope Beth has left us something in here.”

“What’s that?” Kennedy pointed to the globe.

Riley set the journal down and picked up the globe. “Can you run a background check for me?”

Kennedy nodded. “Who am I checking for?”

Riley flipped it over for Kennedy to see the name on the bottom.

“Lieutenant Lis?” he whispered.

Riley nodded. “I don’t know any other Basia. Do you?” Kennedy shook his head. Riley then mentioned they should keep this search on the down low, for now, until they were certain there was a connection between the two women and indeed it was Basia Lis. Kennedy agreed and wandered back to his desk. Riley took off his coat and tossed it over the back of his chair. He grabbed a coffee and the journal and began to flip through the pages. He’d just read a section near the back that mentioned a book club meeting, which mentioned Basia’s name again and two other women, when his cell rang. He made a mental note to get Kennedy to search the other women’s names.

“Detective Briggs,” he answered by the third ring.

“This is Mary Roberts. I’m the previous owner of the diner. I hear you’ve been asking for me.”

Riley stood. “Thanks for calling, Ms. Roberts. I’ve been working a case for a missing person, Beth Wilson.”

“Beth, she’s a sweet girl and a hard worker. It was so unlike her to take off. The other two hadn’t surprised me but Beth did.”

“The other two?” Riley questioned and then added, “Would it be possible to meet up with you? I have a few questions.” Riley wanted to know why Mary thought Beth left; and if the other two girls she mentioned were the ones in Beth’s journal?

“Certainly, I’m at the diner. I had to come back to deliver the final sale documents.”

Riley thanked her and said he’d be there shortly. He called Kennedy’s desk phone.

                                                                      ****

“Hi, Basia, come on in.”

Basia smiled warmly at Lynette. She’d known her since college. They’d been lab partners, study partners, and roommates. Lynette’s internship with the city morgue had kept her there after graduation, as did Basia’s internship with the NYPD.

“Missing Persons confirmed this is Beth Wilson.”

Lynette remained professional, even though her friend requested a call if a woman fitting Beth’s description ever landed on her table. She lifted the corner of the sheet over Beth’s head. Basia lowered her head and then nodded for Lynette to cover her again.

“I’m sorry, Basia. You mentioned she was a friend of yours.”

Lynette quickly covered Beth’s head. Tears filled Basia’s eyes. She’d cared about Beth. She’d wanted to help her escape the abusive relationship she lived in. Beth’s plans to leave, and start over, were confirmed when she’d been accepted to school on the West Coast. Basia helped Beth financially, as she had for the other two women. Kris booked rehab first, before she planned to make her way back to the Midwest. Lisa left the day after Peter’s heart attack. She’d mentioned her plan to return to Florida. Neither had said goodbye, but Basia remembered telling Beth that sometimes a fresh start means just that. Beth confided she’d always wanted to be a nurse but came to New York with only her high school diploma and no money. Beth called Basia two days before she left for school at the end of August and promised to call after she’d settled at school. When she didn’t hear from her in September, she checked and Beth hadn’t yet registered. Basia attempted to fill out a missing person’s report but discovered one had already been filed by the creepy landlord.

“I guess you could call her a friend. She worked at the diner I go to regularly. When I heard she went missing, I looked at the case, but there were no leads. Poor girl had mentioned her boyfriend was abusive.”

Lynette pushed the table back inside and closed the door. She turned to Basia.

“Bastard probably ended the abuse. The autopsy is scheduled for later this morning. Would you like a copy of the report, Basia?”

Basia nodded. “Thanks, Lynette, I’d like that.”

              Basia thought about going straight to Riley’s after work, but it had been a long day. The memory of Beth on that table haunted her. She wasn’t family. She’d only been an acquaintance; one Basia promised to help escape an abusive relationship. Lynette forwarded Basia a copy of the autopsy report, as promised. She was shocked to find traces of thallium in her blood. It only brought back the memory that haunted her night and day. Basia knew it could only be found if poison had been suspected and the second round of bloodwork tested by request. The case became a homicide that instant and forensics would be notified. Basia’s team would investigate Beth’s murder.

              Further into the report, Basia discovered Riley’s name as the lead detective for the missing person’s case. Mixed emotions surged through her. She knew if he’d been investigating Beth’s disappearance, he’d eventually connect Basia to her. Basia poured a stiff drink and wondered if it was time to pack her bags. She had secrets of the past she wanted to keep there. Darek’s death had been reported as a hiking accident. No one knew about the poison Basia slipped into his coffee before their hike. No one knew that it was she that killed her husband, but she knew. She also knew what it was like to live with the control and the abuse. Fear can make one believe there’s no other way, especially when it’s going to be you or him.

             
Who would poison Beth? Her boyfriend? He’d been shot that night; unless he poisoned her before.             

              Basia thought about Beth. The liquid in her glass twirled as she moved the glass side to side. Then she remembered Adam and his pump spray. It may have contained liquid Pyrethrin. The right amount could definitely kill. That would be the only poison she could think he’d have access to. He didn’t have the smarts, let alone the access, to get his hands on thallium.

              Basia set her glass down and wondered if Adam was just creepy, or if he was capable of murder. She remembered the women confided he’d been trying to evict them because of their boyfriends’ drug deals and domestic disturbances.
But why Beth? Adam liked her.
Basia then wondered if he’d meant to poison the men and somehow Beth got it. She remembered the autopsies of the brownstone deaths. One was a drug overdose and the other, a heart attack. No second round of blood work had been required. No foul play had been suspected. Basia just believed it to be a lucky break for their girlfriends.  

              Her phone rang and she jumped and spilt her drink.
Shit!
Basia wondered who it could be. She never had visitors. She answered, “Yes.” Her doorman informed her she had a visitor—Riley Briggs. She informed the doorman to let him in. Basia hadn’t given Riley her address, but then again he was a detective.

              “Detective, I wasn’t expecting you.”

              She attempted a seductive smile but her recent thoughts had emotionally drained her. She turned and walked away from her door. “Come in, would you like a scotch?”

              “My parents did well and left me a healthy inheritance,” Basia answered the hidden question inside his
cozy place
comment. She handed him a scotch. He cheered her glass.

              “So, you what brings you by, Detective?” Basia abruptly asked after she took a sip. Riley laughed and walked toward her balcony. He took notice of her flowers.

              “Chrysanthemums, right?” Riley turned briefly and asked. He remembered Lynette’s statement about pretty flowers containing deadly poisons. More so, they stuck in his mind from Kennedy’s comment that his wife loved the flowers.

              “You came by to see my chrysanthemums, Detective?”

She stood and watched him explore her home.

              He chuckled, “No,” and took another drink. “Kennedy mentioned just yesterday that his wife loves those flowers. I heard they were pretty but could be poisonous.”

              Riley kept his back to her but saw her reflection in the balcony door. He noticed she seemed a little uneasy since he arrived. No matter how much she spoke seduction; her body language said something different. He wondered what happened in her day to upset her. The mention of the flowers and poison seemed to trigger something. Her confidence seemed lower.

              “They can be but I still love them.”

              Basia spoke few words as she watched him. Riley took a closer look at the flowers and leaned in to smell them.

              “If I didn’t know Pyrethrin could be made from them, I’d say they’re pretty too.”

              He watched her move to the sofa. She propped herself up against it. She seemed nervous with his small talk and decided to stop beating around the bush. He wanted some answers. He met her at the sofa.

              “I unraveled something interesting today, Basia.”

              He swayed his glass for the scotch to hit one side of the glass and then the other.

              “What’s that, Detective?”

              She crossed one leg over the other as she continued to lean against the sofa. His eyes followed the movement. He loved her legs, especially when they were wrapped around him. He shook that thought and remained focused.

              “The case I got stuck with actually turned out to be a little more interesting than I’d imagined. The young woman’s body showed up at the morgue. Appears she’d been murdered, and there might be a trace of poison found in her. Might be Pyrethrin; the same stuff that comes from those pretty flowers.”

              Riley motioned his hand that held his drink in the direction of the flowers. Basia slightly laughed and turned her head toward him.

              “And you think my flowers killed her?”

Riley’s eyes met Basia’s, and then he switched his focus quickly to his scotch.
Damn those eyes.

              “I should hope you’ve never killed anyone.”

              Riley brought the glass to his lips. He heard Basia swallow hard and she hadn’t taken a drink of her scotch. She seemed unnerved. He hoped to hell she hadn’t killed anyone, but he could definitely tell she was hiding something.

              “So what did you discover today or are we going to play twenty questions?”

Basia seemed uncomfortable. One thing he knew for sure about her was that she liked to play games. He guessed twenty questions wasn’t one of them. He smiled.

              “Right; now where was I? Oh, yeah. The young woman, murdered by poison, actually lived in this rundown brownstone.”

              Riley turned and caught Basia’s eyes. Her blinks became more frequent and he noticed her tongue wet her lips. She definitely had become uncomfortable.

              “And…” Basia probed.

              “And…I’ve been talking to the superintendent of this brownstone, because he’d been the one who talked to the cops about her dead boyfriend.”

              Basia interrupted, “Are you asking for my advice on a case? Or is there something you want to tell me, Detective?”

              “Sorry. It gets a little confusing but it’s actually simple. Both she and her boyfriend were killed the same night. I shot her boyfriend in a drug bust about a block away from this rundown brownstone. The missing report sparked my interest because of the date. Now that I have a body, and hopefully confirmation she’d been poisoned; I’m certain it couldn’t have been her boyfriend, because my partner and I had tracked him all day. The diner where she worked said she left about six o’clock that evening. We were on his trail when she was still alive.”             

              “Is there a point to this, Detective?” Basia seemed not only uncomfortable but irritated.

              “There is a point to all of this. Really; I just wanted to give you a background first of my findings. Now that I’ve brought you up to speed, I can fill in the missing links later. What I discovered today, from talking to the old owner of a diner close to the brownstone, was that you and Beth, along with two other women from the same building knew each other.”

              Basia looked like she’d seen a ghost. She swallowed hard then took a swig of her scotch.

              “Yes, I did know Beth from the diner. I saw her body at the morgue earlier. It upset me. I hadn’t seen her in some time.” Basia stared into her empty glass.

               “Would you like another?” Riley nodded.

              “You mentioned you met at the diner. Is that where your private group met? What exactly was the private group for?” Riley thanked her for the refill.

                Basia’s eyes abruptly looked into his, as if to question how the hell he found out about that, but her tone carried no emotion. “It was a support group for abused women.”

              “You started the group?”

Basia nodded.              “My husband abused me back in Poland. I had no one to talk to. I understood how they felt and wanted to help them.”

              “Husband?” Riley questioned.

Basia briefly told him he died before she returned to New York.

              “Hmmm.” Riley angled his body to face her. “What happened to your husband?”

              “Hiking accident”

              She gave him a brief answer and looked away. He figured Kennedy’s search would verify the facts of her husband’s death, but those records may not confirm abuse. Most women never reported it. Knowing she came from money, he figured it had been kept quiet.

              “I’m sorry to hear you were abused, Basia. No woman should ever be.”

              Riley reached over to touch her hand. She’d been staring into her drink. Her eyes drifted from his hand on hers to meet his eyes.

              “No, and some women never survive. I guess you could say I was one of the lucky ones.”

              She stood and paced. After a moment or two of silence, she continued, “I didn’t want to believe it at first. My parents had died in a car accident, and I was grieving when we married. I’d been so wrapped up in grief and thought he was just being protective. By the time I figured out it was a game of control for him, his abuse had changed from emotional to verbal, and then one night it became physical.”

              She sighed heavily before she continued, “He apologized and begged me to forgive him. Then he mentioned we needed to get away. We decided to go to my parents’ chata in the Tatra Mountains.”

              Riley remembered when he’d said
ta-ta
instead of goodbye, his mom’s expression; now it made since to him. She must have thought he’d said Tatra and hit a nerve. He listened as she told him her story.

              “We were both experienced hikers. He worked for my father’s mountain guide company. The weather in the mountains is so unpredictable. A storm moved in quickly and he lost his footing on the ladder.”

              She paused for a moment. Riley remained silent and listened. His heart ached for her. She’d been so calm and confident to him before tonight.

              “The storm raged so quickly, I told him to come back up. He had just begun to climb down the ladder. It was hard to see with the blowing snow, but he must have lost his grip. I saw him fall. They never found his body. Those mountains, especially Eagle’s Path, have taken many lives over the years.”

              Basia took a swig of scotch. Riley noticed there were no tears, but then again the man had abused her. She probably had no feelings left for him.

              “I’m sorry, Basia, that you experienced all of that,” Riley whispered as he placed his arm around her. His hand squeezed her shoulder gently.              

              She looked up at him. “I’m not.” He could tell by her eyes she wasn’t. There was something cold in them for the first time since he’d met her.

                                                                                    ****

              Basia felt some relief. She’d left out the part of Darek’s plan to kill her and the thallium she put in his coffee that morning, before they left for their hike. She carried that with her and never told a soul. Basia convinced herself it wasn’t murder and that it had been self-defense. The thallium she used to poison him was to make sure that his fall would definitely take his life. She knew Riley was suspicious of the poison found, and her expertise in forensics could tie her to them, especially since they’d been friends of abuse.

              “Riley.” She bit her bottom lip.

              “I must confess I know Beth and the other women. I met with them and offered to help them financially to escape their abusive relationships and start over. You must understand their desperation, Riley. They were abused, poor, and believed they had nowhere to go. We talked about self-esteem and life after abuse. My situation was different. I had money. They didn’t. They still lived with the abuse daily. It’s like being brainwashed into believing you can’t leave. Abuse takes over logical thoughts and desperation takes over sometimes, I guess.”

              “Desperation, you mention. Do you think they killed their boyfriends? There are two deaths from the brownstone; coincidentally the two men that lived with Beth’s friends.”

Basia didn’t like Riley’s line of questioning and informed him of the autopsies performed.

              “Their deaths were determined by natural causes; well, one was a drug overdose but the other was a heart attack.”

              “And if we exhume their bodies, would we discover they’d been poisoned?”

She definitely didn’t like his line of questioning. It was too close to revealing her secret.

              “Why would these women want to poison their boyfriends? I’d given them more than enough money to start over.” Basia defensively stood up for them.

              “You did mention some women become desperate to get out. Maybe they didn’t want the men to track them down. How well did you know these women?”

              “Well enough to know they didn’t kill them.”

              She set her glass down on the bar. Riley was getting too close. The last person she wanted to know about her secret was the man standing behind her. The man she’d fallen in love with. She placed her hands on the bar and silently prayed he’d stop his line of questions. He didn’t.

              “Two wrongs don’t make a right, Basia. Abuse is wrong, but it doesn’t mean you kill your abuser.”

              Basia shook her head. “No, but the thought crosses your mind when you feel there’s no other solution.” She remained in her stance with him behind her.

              “My husband’s sudden outbursts, screaming; and when I say screaming, I mean that decibel point way beyond normal yelling.  Nothing even close to two people fighting; it’s far worse. It sends a chill, a shiver of pain through your ears into your entire body. Your mind blanks out the words used. You just remember the screaming and the fear. Words that should never be used with someone you supposedly love. The mind freezes and ignores. Memories of trauma are difficult to remember. After so long, abuse numbs you, numbs your mind. Fear is all you feel.”