Vanessa Gray Bartal - Lacy Steele 07 - Icy Grip of Murder (9 page)

“He came to where I live,” Lacy
said, deciding it was probably best not to give Michael’s home address to
another psychopathic female admirer.
Although it would be
interesting to see Jenny and Rain/Suze in a duel.
Which one would
out-crazy the other? Lacy thought Suze had the advantage, and it worried her
that she was proud of that.

“And you’ve been together ever
since,” Jenny surmised. Somehow Lacy knew that it gave her an advantage if
Jenny believed she and Michael were together. Beneath the window ledge, she
slipped the ruby ring Jason had given her from her right hand to her left.

“We’re not just together; we’re
engaged.” She held up her hand and showed Jenny the ring.

“No way. He hates marriage. He would
never commit,” Jenny said.

“Maybe you don’t know him as well
as you think you do,” Lacy said. “Want to come in and compare notes? I’ll pull
you in.” She stuck out her hand.

“If I come in there, I’ll kill
you,” Jenny said, and Lacy believed her.

Lacy pulled in her hand. “We could
compare from here.”

“You are seriously mental. Maybe
you are his type,” Jenny said.

“I’m not sure I believe in having a
type,” Lacy said. Where were Jason and Michael? How long did it take to pick up
some clothes? “I mean
,
if you had to choose your ideal
type, would Michael be it? Probably not, but he’s who you fell in love with,
who you still love.”

“I don’t still love him,” Jenny
said.

“No? Then why else are you framing
him for your murder?”

“Are you stupid? It’s because if I
show up now, I’ll be in trouble,” Jenny said.

“Not as much as Michael, and he
didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I don’t care about Michael. I hate
him,” Jenny said.

“Someone once told me that hate
isn’t the opposite of love. They’re two sides of the same coin. Instead,
indifference is the opposite of love. When you truly couldn’t care less about
someone or their actions, that’s when you know you’re over him.”

“Thanks, Dear Abby. Why am I still
talking to you?”

“Because you want to talk to
Michael and I’m the closest thing available,” Lacy said.

“Whatever.” Jenny took a step away.

“Wait, he should be here any
minute. Really, why don’t you stay?”

Jenny’s eyes narrowed. “Why? So you
can call the cops?”

“No, because we could be friends,”
Lacy said.

“Why would we ever be friends?”
Jenny asked.

“Because of Michael. Because you
can give me some tips on how to manage him.”

“Here’s a tip: when you sense
things aren’t going well, it works well to fake your death and frame him for
murder,” Jenny said.

“Duly noted. Anything else?” Where
were the men? She wasn’t even making sense anymore. Jenny had to understand
that she was purposely trying to stall her. Any minute she would take off and
be gone, possibly forever.

“Yes, if all else fails, you can
kill him. That’s what I plan to do,” Jenny said.

“O-okay,” Lacy said.

“And you, too. And the other one,
your friend with the special hat,” Jenny said.

“All right. Any particular reason?”

“No. Just tired of dealing with
everything, plus you’re weird and I don’t like you.”

“So that’s what you came to tell
Michael? That you’re going to kill him?”

Jenny smiled the unnerving grin
again. “Among a few other things.”

“Like what?” Lacy asked, leaning
her elbows on the windowsill. Her nose and hands were numb with the cold but
Jenny wasn’t even wearing a coat. Maybe people did become acclimated to this
climate so that after a while anything close to zero degrees felt like summer.

“Like what I’ve been able to do,
what he’s been missing out on,” Jenny said.

“Like what?” Lacy persisted.

Jenny rolled her eyes. “Oh, why
don’t I just confess everything to you?”

“Okay,” Lacy said.

“That was sarcasm. I’m not going to
tell you anything because I don’t know you and because I don’t like you.”

“So you mentioned. I think if you
gave me a chance, you might be surprised by how much you like me.”

“I would rather be surprised by how
good it feels to kill you, although I don’t think that’s going to be very
surprising.” She took another step away.

“Wait,” Lacy called. Somewhere
behind her, the front door opened and closed. She made the mistake of turning
to look. When she turned back around, Jenny was gone.

“So you say she walked up to your
window, just like that.”

Lacy pinched the bridge of her
nose. “Why do you keep saying it like that? Like I’m making it up?”

The officers stared at her. The
obvious answer was that they did believe she was making it up. They hadn’t come
out and said as much yet, but their tones, their innuendo, and most of
all their
refusal to take notes told her they thought she
was lying.

“Why would I make it up?” she tried
again. The conversation was circular and it had been going on for the last
couple of hours. Lacy was confined to a small interview room with the two
officers. Jason and Michael hadn’t been allowed to accompany her. They had
asked her to repeat her story over and over, as if she were the criminal, as if
they could make her trip up by wearing her down.

“Why else?” Officer Anderson asked.
“Michael has always had a way with his women.”

“Michael and I are not together,”
Lacy said. “Jason is my boyfriend. If Michael and I were together, why would we
bring him along?”

“Some sort of service project, by
the looks of him,” the other officer said. His name was Andersen, too, although
the spelling was slightly different.

Jason had retrieved his clothes and
boots from the destroyed motel room. They had multiple holes from the shrapnel
and smelled like smoke. “He doesn’t always look like this, as you know. You saw
him in his element. You know he’s a detective.”

“We glimpsed him there; we’re
getting an eyeful here,” Andersen with an E said.

“Regardless of his wardrobe
choices, Jason and I are very much together. Michael is our friend.”

“You might be willing to lie for a
friend,” Anderson said.

“I wouldn’t.”

“You said you told Jenny you and
Michael were engaged,” Andersen pointed out.

“I said anything I could think of
to keep her there. I was blabbing like the proverbial canary. She was unduly
interested in Michael. I was trying to stall.”

“You and Detective Cantor are engaged
then,” Andersen said, pointing to her left ring finger. Lacy realized the ruby
ring was still there and ripped it off.

“No.”

“That’s a vehement denial for
someone who’s supposedly so much in love,” Anderson said.

“What? Why are we talking about my love
life? Jason and I are dating, but we are not engaged.” She stuffed the ring
back on her right hand and gave it a twist so the ruby wouldn’t cut into her
palm.

“I have to say, Miss Steele, that
it seems awfully coincidental,” Andersen said.

“What does?” Lacy asked.

“We arrest Michael for murder and
he comes up with some cockamamie story about Jenny being still alive. Then you,
a woman who trailed after him halfway across the country, suddenly corroborate
as a witness. How does one see a dead woman, anyway? Was she see-through? Did
she float?”

“No, she was alive and hostile. She
threatened
me, Michael, and Jason
. She said she would
kill all of us, but first she wanted Michael to know what she had been up to.”

“Hauntings and such?” Anderson
said.

“Crime, detectives.”

“Crime, huh?” Andersen said.

“Crime,” Lacy repeated.

“Like what?” Anderson asked.

“I don’t know. But everyone agrees
it must be something big for her to have faked her death and stayed away this
long.”

“Everyone who?” Andersen asked.

“Flea, Bug, Louse, Larva,
everyone,” Lacy said.

Anderson leaned in closer, checking
her pupils. “Miss Steele, are you on any sort of medication?”

“What? No. I don’t take anything.
I’m telling you that Jenny Andrews is alive and up to no good.”

“Did the insects tell you to say
that?” Andersen said.

“You know, I’ve had about enough of
your condescending, disbelieving attitudes. I think I need to place a call to
Michael’s lawyer and see what he suggests I do next.”

They sat up, their mocking laughter
giving way to concern. The name of Michael’s famous, high-powered attorney had
that effect on people. “The truth is that we’re concerned about you,” Anderson
said.

“You have no idea the power Michael
has over people,” Andersen said.

“Look, I know the police department
here sees Michael as some sort of mythic crime lord. Maybe you have your
reasons for that. But I see
Michael
as he was—a
lonely orphan boy too smart for his own good. And I see him as he is
now—a legitimate businessman and loyal friend.”

They blinked at her. “He’s
brainwashed you,” Anderson said.

Lacy’s head fell back in
exasperation. “This is hopeless.”

“I think it may be,” Andersen said.
“We’ll give you a call if Jenny Andrews mysteriously turns up. But at this
point, I need to be honest with you and tell you that we’re looking for a body
and not a live woman.”

“So be it. My only hope is that we
find her before she finds us and makes good on her threat,” Lacy said.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Anderson
said, standing, and Lacy knew she was dismissed without ever being heard or
understood.

She walked out of the interview
room alone. Jason and Michael sat on a bench. Michael was scouring the paper
and Jason was clutching a vending machine bear claw.

“Are you okay?” he asked when he
saw her. He stood and crumbs toppled to the floor, too many for one bear claw.
“I’ve been worried out here.”

“Apparently worry makes him hungry
now,” Michael said. “Along with every other human emotion.”

“I’m fine,” Lacy said. “They didn’t
believe me about Jenny.”

“Of course they didn’t,” Michael
said.

“What’s next?” she asked as they
stood in a silent triangle.

“We wait for Jenny to contact me
again,” Michael said.

“Are you sure she will?” Jason
asked.

“I think so. She wants to brag
about something. She won’t let that slide. In the meantime, maybe we could
catch some sleep. I don’t know about you guys, but being firebombed in the
night is not conducive to rest.”

“I could definitely use a nap,”
Lacy said.

“Me, too,” Jason agreed.

They drove back to the bungalow and
informed Len and Linda that they would pick up supper for all so Linda wouldn’t
feel compelled to cook. Linda seemed happy with the arrangement, which made
Lacy feel better for being such a bad houseguest. They basically showed up long
enough to sleep and eat. She hoped Michael would convince them to let her pay
them for their trouble.

When they reached the bedroom,
Michael lobbed himself onto the top bunk and fell immediately asleep. Lacy
envied him as Jason slid into the bottom bunk and reached for her.

“Just a second, I’m going to
change,” she whispered. She grabbed her shorts and t-
shirt,
glad she had thought to bring them in case she worked out. A few minutes later
she returned from the bathroom.

“You’re going to freeze,” he said.

“I think I’ll be fine,” she said.
She eased into bed. He wrapped her tightly and pulled her close.

“I’ll keep you warm,” he whispered.

“I know you will,” she said. He
fell asleep fully clothed except for his boots, and he was still shivering.
Lacy, meanwhile, began to sweat, but not as much as the night before. She was
uncomfortably hot, but at least she was able to fall asleep and forget her
misery.

They woke as a unit a few hours
later. The sun was beginning to set. Michael volunteered himself and Jason to
get food.

“No, Jason and I will go,”
Lacy
said. She was tired of being left behind.

“You don’t know where to go,”
Michael reminded her.

“Let’s all go,” Lacy said. She
dreaded another awkward encounter with Len and Linda, trying to make small talk
in their tiny kitchen.

“All right,” Michael said. He
hopped down from the top bunk and picked up Lacy’s keys from the dresser. Lacy
and Jason followed him to the car. Finding a place for supper didn’t take long
because, of the few restaurants in town, only one did takeout. Michael told
them it was good, but Lacy didn’t care. Even though she had only had orange
juice that day, she was strangely not hungry. Maybe if she lived in such
extreme cold all the time she would be skinny; maybe she should move to
Greenland.

She glanced at Jason beside her.
Unable to narrow his selection between three entrees, he ordered all three.
Maybe she should stay south of the Arctic. Her jeans might fit better, but
Jason’s arteries couldn’t take it.

Armed with food, they returned to
Len and Linda’s. They seemed delighted—both for the food and for the
company.

“So you really lived with a group
of kids all those years,” Lacy said.

Linda nodded. “There was other
part-time staff, but we were the live-in residential directors. Most of the
time we housed between ten and twelve kids, ranging in ages from ten to
seventeen.”

“That must have been challenging,”
Lacy said.

“It had its moments,” Linda said.
“But we set good ground rules and stuck to them. We tried to be consistent and
fair with discipline, and I think the kids respected that. Of course there were
those who tested the boundaries, some more than others.” She leaned over and
pinched Michael’s bicep.

“I’m curious, Linda. Did you know
what I was up to all those years?” he asked.

“We knew everything about everyone.
But we also knew your hearts and so we had a different perspective than the
police. While we viewed most of your antics as harmless pranks, they viewed
them as vile offenses. There were times when we wanted to intervene, but to do
so would have been the same as sentencing you to
juvie
.
We couldn’t do it.”

“I appreciate that,” Michael said,
sounding slightly choked.

Linda patted his hand and they
started to eat.

“Do you keep in contact with many
of the kids you oversaw?” Lacy asked.

“Less than we used to,” Linda said.
“It’s harder for Len to get out now that he’s on oxygen. Sometimes the kids
drop by for a listening ear, hot meal, or place to stay.”

“What about Jenny?” Michael asked.

“What about her?” Linda asked.

“Have you seen her?”

“You know Jenny never warmed up to
us,” Linda said. “She didn’t like authority,” she added in an aside to Lacy and
Jason.

“None of us did,” Michael pointed
out.

“Yes, but she had a special kind of
hate for it. I’ve never seen the like of that girl.”

“She’s nuts,” Len said.

“Len,” Linda scolded.

“It’s true. The kids we dealt with
had been through tough times, and we tried to give them the benefit of the
doubt and see the good inside them. But Jenny was always different. She’s a,
whadya
call it when people don’t have a conscience,
sociopath. That’s what.”

“Well, I don’t know about that, but
she was different,” Linda said diplomatically.

The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,”
Michael volunteered. He returned a minute later, sat down, and began eating
again.

“Who was it?” Linda asked.

“It was nobody. Probably a prank or
something,” Michael said, but Lacy knew he was lying.

They finished supper and cleaned
the kitchen. Michael was trying to ease into the background. Lacy wouldn’t let
him. “Oh, Michael, I need my keys.”

“Do you?” he said. “Are you going
somewhere?”

“Are you?” she countered.

To their right, Len and Linda were
watching the exchange with interest. “Of course not,” he said, smiling as he
handed her the keys. She counted them to make sure both were there. That had
been too easy, and then she remembered that Michael could hotwire the car
whenever he wanted. He was, after all, a pro at stealing vehicles. She drew
Jason aside and whispered in his ear.

“I think you should disable the
car.” She had no idea how to do such a thing, but he probably did.

“Done and done,” he said, patting
his pocket.

“When did you…how did…I didn’t see
you leave the kitchen.”

“I’m just that good,” he said,
winking. The wink made the flaps on his ridiculous hat flutter, but it also
made her heart flutter. She was relieved to have confirmation that her
attraction to him wasn’t merely skin deep. He was so nice looking that
sometimes it was hard to tell. Now, and for the first time, as she surveyed his
flannel cap, pockmarked flannel shirt, and face with a smear of lasagna sauce
on the chin, she was certain it was the man she loved and not the appearance.

“What?” he asked, swiping
ineffectually at the blob of sauce on his
chin.

“I just love you a lot,” she said.

He smiled. “Yeah? How much?”

Enough
to raise my core body temperature to dangerous levels when we sleep,
she
thought.

“Where’s Michael?” Linda said,
interrupting their private conversation. Lacy and Jason looked around the
kitchen.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” Lacy
said. If Len and Linda had a car, it was safely tucked in their garage. There
was no way Michael could get that out without everyone hearing the garage door
open. Almost as soon as she finished speaking, Michael came back into the house
and stopped in the kitchen, bringing a swell of cold air with him that made
Jason shiver.

“Uh, Lacy, Jason, could I see you
in the bedroom a minute, please?” he asked.

“Sure, we just finished here,”
Lacy
said. She hung the dishtowel to dry and followed
Michael down the hall.

He whirled on them when they
entered the room. “Where is it?” he demanded.

“Where is what?” Jason asked. Lacy
was impressed by his innocent tone. He wasn’t as practiced a liar as Michael.

“Whatever you took from the car to
keep me here.”

Lacy faked a gasp. “You mean you
were trying to steal my car?”