A Killer Read (35 page)

“I didn’t kill him, did I?” Lizzie whispered.

Bob chuckled, then grimaced in pain. “Nope. I think you killed that there chair.” Bob struggled up so that he was kneeling with one knee pushed into Dwayne’s back. He grabbed Dwayne’s left arm and pulled it behind him. “Do you think you could gently put that gun down way over there on the counter— real careful now— and then grab this guy’s right arm and pull it toward me?”

Lizzie did as asked. Molly arrived with a tea towel in hand. “Here, let me tie up his hands,” she said, kneeling beside Bob. “Lizzie, you keep sitting on him. I’m going to take care of Bob’s head, here.” She helped him stand and got him over to the banquette.

“You’d better call the police, too,” Lizzie suggested.

“It’s been taken care of, young lady,” Bob said before laying his bleeding head down on his arms, crossed on the table.

M
ark finished the beer he was drinking as he finished his story. Lizzie set his empty glass in the kitchen sink and turned to face him. “You mean, Dwayne’s mama sent me the manuscript because she wanted him stopped?”

“That’s how she tells it. She’s been in and out of detox and rehab several times over the years but for the past five months, she’s been living in a rooming house on Wilton. She started writing the story as therapy and then decided to send it to you when she got worried about what Dwayne was up to. She knew he’d been scheming, and after he lost his job, she said he just snapped.”

“Did she know that Dwayne planned to kill Telford?”

“Not before it happened. No. Seems Dwayne wanted money from Telford, who said he didn’t have any. Dwayne said he’d get it from Molly the night of your meeting. Telford beat him to Molly’s, then called him to say he’d be waiting for him and not to go up to the house. When Dwayne got there, they argued, Dwayne pulled out the gun he’d stolen
from Molly a few weeks before, and got so mad he shot Telford.”

Lizzie bit her lower lip. “Why did he leave the gun… to implicate Molly? Did he want revenge so badly?”

“He hasn’t said. What he did own up to was stealing the gun during one of the literacy evenings, along with something for Ms. Torres.”

“This is getting complicated. How did Dwayne’s mama know about all this? And how did she get the manuscript to me? And why me?”

“Dwayne confessed to his mama what he’d done, but she knew he still wanted money from Molly and she was afraid he might end up killing her, too, if Molly refused. She thought if she sent you the manuscript in sections, it would get your interest up and you might connect all the dots and stop Dwayne.”

Mark crossed his arms and leaned back against the counter. “She couldn’t bring herself to just turn him in. Since Dwayne was in your literacy group and he talked about you a lot, you seemed the likely recipient. She paid the kid next door to make the deliveries and told him not to get caught.”

“Did she also make those phone calls to me?” Lizzie asked, hoping everything would be neatly tied up with no loose ends.

“She did. Now, she thinks she contacted your daddy at some point and told him what had happened, but her mind’s so fogged up when it comes to certain times of her life, that’s not a certainty. But it makes sense,” Mark said, walking over to stand beside Lizzie. “Something or someone got him looking into the story. She hoped her calls to you would push you even harder to find out about Dwayne.”

“And what about the Facebook page for Harlan Fowks? Was that Dwayne or his mama?”

“Dwayne thought that one up more to help ease his anger than anything else. He wanted some recognition for his granddaddy.”

Lizzie sighed. “It’s all so sad. Molly knew nothing about Claydon’s involvement, and she’s pretty heartbroken about it. She told me, though, that she’s going to do right by Carla Fowks, or I guess it’s Trowl, and sign over some long-term mutual funds that have a monthly payout. She’s feeling really bad about all that happened to the Fowks family.”

She leaned back against the counter, thinking. “About the only good thing that came out of it all was finding out my daddy really was working on a story, not having an affair. He didn’t tell Mama about it because of her close friendship with Molly.”

Mark stood and walked over to Lizzie.

“You know, when I told Mama this morning, she didn’t say anything, but she was crying, Mark. She knew. She understood that Daddy really loved her after all.” Lizzie felt the tears misting her eyes.

Next thing she knew, Mark’s arms were wrapped around her. She hung on tightly. He tilted her head back and kissed her. Her arms tightened even more.

“You see what happens from holding things back and keeping secrets?” Mark whispered. “I got a lot of things I want you to know, Lizzie. But not all at once, okay?”

“Sure. But you know, there is one question I’d kinda like to know the answer to right away.” She felt warm and wanted, and even a bit playful. “It’s been nagging at me, and I haven’t yet figured out how to bring it up.”

She felt Mark tense up. “So, ask,” he said.

Lizzie leaned her head back and looked at him a bit sheepishly. “Well… it’s about your hair. Or lack of it. I mean, it’s quite a contrast from when I knew you in school. I was just wondering if that’s a remnant of army life?”

Mark started laughing so hard, she was shaking in his arms. He stopped, sighed and spoke. “When I got out, I wanted to shed everything that had anything to do with the army. Never again see a buzz cut. So I started growing my hair and was just going to see how long I could get it. But
it occurred to me, a police chief with a ponytail wouldn’t go over too good. And then, the high school Shave-a-Thon for Cancer Research happened along. And that was that. And then, the look sort of grew on me, so to speak.” He grinned.

Lizzie nodded. “I kinda like it, too. Thanks for telling me. You get to ask me a prying question next time, but now we’d better get on over to the book club or who knows what rumors they’ll start up.”

Bob met them at Molly’s front door. He sported a thick white bandage on the back of his head. “I just wanted to explain to you, Lizzie. I started getting a vague notion about what had happened way back then. I’d been away doing my stint in the army, so I wasn’t here when it happened. But I’d heard some rumors. When I began suspecting Claydon had been a part of it, I knew it had to be kept from Molly. I guess I acted sort of the dunce.”

Lizzie put a hand on his arm. “I understand totally, Bob. That’s exactly what my daddy did. But you know, you’ve been acting a dunce in more ways than one.” She looked over at Mark.

Bob nodded. “Yeah, I guess so.” He extended his hand to Mark, who shook it.

“I saw you hovering at the door, Bob Miller,” Molly said, coming up behind them. “I was afraid you might try to sneak out again. Good evening Lizzie, Chief.” She nodded at them both.

“How are you, Molly?” Lizzie asked.

Molly sighed. “Well, I’m none too happy to learn these things about Claydon, but I surely do understand why he kept it all from me. I knew he wasn’t perfect, but it shakes your faith in people when someone you trust can have such a dark secret.” She shook her head. “Now, come on in and join the others. We’re going to celebrate the fact that the case has been solved and it’s all over.

“But before that, I’ve got a gift for you, Bob.” She turned
to him. “It’s a kind of thank-you and something I’m sure you’ll find enlightening.” She beamed as she handed him a small parcel, wrapped simply in brown paper.

He looked at her a moment and then at the gift a moment longer before ripping the paper off. The book had a brown leather-bound cover. When he turned it faceup, the gold-embossed title teased a chuckle out of him.
Poirot Investigates
by Agatha Christie.

“L
izzie Turner, you’d like a signed copy of Derek Alton’s award-winning book, wouldn’t you?”

Lizzie looked over at the cash register, where Jensey Pollard, owner of the Book Bin, stood waving a trade paperback with a moss green cover at her. The store was empty except for a dark-haired man at the back of the store. Jensey took Lizzie’s delay in answering to be a “yes” and called out to the man.

Lizzie watched him as he walked toward her. She didn’t recognize him, but she was pretty sure she’d heard of the book,
Judgment
. She smiled, hoping to cover any look of bewilderment.

“I’m Derek Alton,” he said, giving her the once-over as he held out his hand. He wasn’t much taller than Lizzie, possibly around five-eight. His eyes drew her attention— they were such an odd shade of green, Lizzie was certain he wore contacts. His nose looked slightly off-center, but that gave him a slight bad-boy look, especially when paired
with the short dark brown hair, graying at the temples. His smile looked practiced to her, but she supposed that after years of book signings, he would be a bit jaded.

Jensey came around from behind her desk. “You know, Lizzie,
Judgment
is a mystery of sorts. And since it won the Onyx, I think it would be grand if Derek spoke to your book club. What do you say, Derek?” She had come up beside him and put her hand on his arm.

He looked at her hand and then at Lizzie. “I’d be delighted, although I’m in town for only another week.”

Lizzie tried not to look cornered. She didn’t know how the rest of the Ashton Corners Mystery Readers and Cheese Straws Society would feel about a guest. “I’m sure everyone would be delighted,” she said, fingers crossed. “We’re actually having a meeting next Thursday, if that works for you.”

Alton leaned back against the desk and appeared to be in deep thought. Lizzie had the distinct impression she was being studied and maybe that’s what he’d base his decision upon. It made her slightly uneasy.

“I’d be happy to do it,” Alton finally said. “I’m staying at the Jefferson Hotel. If you’ll give me your phone number, I’ll call you for instructions.” He pulled a pen and small notebook out of his jacket pocket and wrote down what she told him.

He signed the copy of
Judgment
that Jensey handed to him then excused himself and left.

Lizzie stared at Jensey, not quite sure what had just happened. She felt like she’d been railroaded into not only buying a book she’d not planned to purchase, but also revising the book club schedule.

“I didn’t realize you were having a signing here today, Jensey,” Lizzie finally said.

Jensey giggled. “It wasn’t really a signing. He just popped in, and fortunately, I had a few copies of his books on hand so he signed them. Your walking in at that moment was opportune, don’t you think?”