Clubbed to Death (31 page)

Because I’ve been in her shoes, she thought. Or close enough. In her mind, Helen had murdered her tormentor, Rob, so many times, she should be arrested.

“Twelve thirty,” Cam said. “It’s Helen’s turn for lunch.”

“I don’t want to miss the next update,” Helen said.

“I’ll fill you in,” Jessica promised.

Helen rushed through lunch in the staff cafeteria, not sure if she ate a hamburger or a ham sandwich. She was back at her desk by one o’clock.

At one-oh-seven, Xaviera reported, “Steven says they’re trying to work out a plea.”

“Think she’ll confess to killing Brenda and Dr. Dell?” Jessica asked.

“And me,” Helen said. “She tried to kill me.”

“She’ll have to, won’t she?” Xaviera said.

“Aren’t they moving awfully fast?” Cam said.

“Steven says Golden Palms doesn’t want a murder trial splashing the city’s name all over the media,” Xaviera said. “They want to expedite this, so Jackie goes away quietly.”

Good, Helen thought. She didn’t want her name all over the news, either.

A little before two o’clock, Xaviera had another bulletin: “They think Jackie is going to confess to both murders. She says she’s sorry about you, Helen. Her court-appointed lawyer is still trying to work out a plea.”

“Jackie should get a medal,” Cam said. “I mean, not for trying to kill you, Helen. For getting rid of Brenda.”

“Cam is a big ‘no man is an island’ fan,” Jessica said.

“I didn’t see that movie,” Cam said.

Jessica and Helen burst out laughing.

“I can’t help it if you guys are old,” Cam said. He stuck out his lower lip like a giant baby.

At three o’clock, Steven called again. “Wait till you hear this.”

Xaviera nearly levitated in her excitement. Kitty and Solange came out of their offices, drawn by the promise of fresh, hot news.

“Jackie was selling club information from the customer care files,” Xaviera said.

“That’s outrageous,” Kitty said.

Solange moaned and pulled at her already tangled red hair. Her look was sliding from casual to crazed. A button dangled loose on her jacket and her linen suit had more wrinkles than a Shar-Pei puppy.

“Who bought the information?” Jessica said.

“That Rob guy, the one who didn’t marry the Black Widow,” Xaviera said. “He was selling it to other club members, mostly.”

Solange gave a graveyard groan and twisted the fiery strands around her fingers.

“What kind of information?” Jessica asked.

“The only one Jackie mentioned was a sale to a divorce lawyer,” Xaviera said. “The lawyer bought information that a husband had his club bills mailed to a PO box. The husband didn’t want his wife to know he was taking his cookie to lunch here. The lawyer also found the husband had a separate bank account in the Bahamas. The husband had kept that asset well hidden.”

“I hope the lawyer nailed the bastard,” Kitty said.

“Kitty!” Solange said, her voice shrill with fear. “If word gets out, we’re all in trouble. We better pray Jackie takes that plea. Otherwise, we could lose our jobs.”

Not we, Helen thought. You. It happened on your watch.

“Xaviera, what else do you know?” Solange sounded desperate for good news.

“Jackie said she faxed Rob seven club members’ files. She made about seven thousand dollars and used it for her rent and car payments.

She was months behind. Then Brenda discovered the missing Winderstine file in Jackie’s desk during one of her compulsive cleaning attacks.”

“Winderstine!” Solange said. “Why would anyone want his file?”

“He was going to be a CFO, until his company found out he was sixty days behind in his club bills. They decided if he couldn’t handle his finances, he couldn’t handle theirs.”

Solange looked like she was going to faint. She clutched the counter to steady herself and said, “If Winderstine finds out, he’ll sue.”

“You shouldn’t have made such a fuss over that file.” Xaviera must be feeling feisty, dishing important information she got from Steven.

“Jackie came in early to sneak the Winderstine file back in the cabinet,” Xaviera said. “That’s when Brenda confronted her. She’d come in early, too. Brenda guessed Jackie was selling information. She wanted the cash that Jackie had been getting—all of it. Jackie said the money was gone, and she still owed thousands. Brenda gave Jackie a week to come up with the money or she was fired.

“Jackie actually got down on her knees and pleaded with that heartless witch,” Xaviera said. “She said this would ruin her. She promised to give Brenda her future earnings.

“Brenda said, ‘You’re going to do that anyway. You deserve to be fired. I’m trying to help. Do it my way and you keep your job. Otherwise, you’re on the street, and nobody will hire you, loser.’

“Jackie finally had enough. ‘I’m the loser?’ she said. ‘You play golf with Blythe St. Ives, the club member no one else will play with—and you
have
to lose. How pathetic is that? You couldn’t even afford your own breast surgery. You had to sleep with Doctor Dell, a man who looks like an ape. You got fake boobs for fake sex. I’ve had my problems, but I’ve always had my pride.’

“Brenda went ballistic. The insults must have hit home. She picked up one of her golf clubs. Jackie was sure Brenda was going to hit her.

She wrenched the club away and hit Brenda. Jackie said she couldn’t stop beating her. That’s when Dr. Dell walked in, hoping to pay his bill. He said, ‘What’s going on here?’

“ ‘You’re another one,’ Jackie said. ‘You cheated on your sweet wife and misled that poor girl in your office.’ Then she clubbed him, too.”

There was a sad, shocked silence when Xaviera finished.

Jessica was the first to break it. “I didn’t know the poor little mouse had it in her.”

“Even a mouse will fight when cornered,” Helen said.

“Jackie had luck on her side, if you want to call it that,” Xaviera said. “She’d walked to the club, so she avoided the gate cameras. She tried to make the murders look like Brenda had been caught by a jealous lover. That’s why she cut off Brenda’s golf shirt and took it with her. Jackie had carried her blazer when she walked to work, so she wouldn’t get it sweaty. She put it back on over her bloody shirt, walked home, showered and changed. She threw her bloody shirt and the golf top in the Dumpster at her apartment. Then Jackie went back to work.

Except this time, she came in by the employee gate.”

“I guess the thirty-five hundred dollars cash she took from Dr. Dell financed her escape,” Helen said.

“That’s the funny thing,” Xaviera said. “Jackie insists she didn’t take the doctor’s money. She says she would not rob a dead man.”

“Weird,” Jessica said. “She’ll admit to a double murder, but not to stealing.”

They were still discussing this news when Steven called with another bulletin at four o’clock. They gathered around Xaviera’s desk.

“Big problem,” Xaviera announced.

Solange wrung her hands and pulled her hair. Her makeup had worn off, and she looked pale and frightened. “What now?”

“The whole deal may go south,” Xaviera said. “Jackie still refuses to admit she stole the doctor’s cash.”

“That makes no sense,” Cam said.

But something nagged at Helen. Some fragment she couldn’t quite retrieve. She tried to remember her conversations with Jackie, hoping to find it.

The office settled into a strange limbo. No one wanted to work, but the staff didn’t want to leave until they knew Jackie’s fate. Their jobs were riding on her decision.

It was four thirty when Steven called again. “Jackie confessed to taking the money,” Xaviera said. “The deal’s on.” Solange looked sick with relief. Cam and Jessica cheered.

“It’s over,” Kitty said. She looked sad.

“There’s still a lot to do,” Xaviera said. “There’s the presentence investigations—PSI—and the victim impact statements. A lot depends on them.”

“But you’re sure the deal will go through?” Solange said, her eyes big with fear.

“Pretty sure,” Xaviera said.

“I guess Dr. Dell’s wife will make sure they throw the book at Jackie,” Jessica said.

“Demi?” Xaviera said. “She’d thank Jackie, if she could. She’s rid of the philandering doctor and she gets to keep his money. She’s a rich widow.”

“What about Brenda’s family?” Jessica asked.

“What family?” Xaviera said. “Her parents are dead. No brothers or sisters.”

I’m the only victim left, Helen thought. I won’t make trouble. I want this to go away, too.

“Steven said Jackie said odd things. She wanted to know if she would get more time if she confessed to taking the money and if she had to be paroled.”

Had to be paroled? Helen wondered if that’s what Jackie said, or if it was filtered through Xaviera’s slightly warped English.

“They said if Jackie pleaded guilty, she’d probably get twenty years to life, pending the results of the PSI and the victim impact statements.

Then she asked something really strange: Could they make sure she didn’t get paroled?”

“She didn’t do it,” Helen said.

“Of course she did,” Xaviera said.

“Jackie killed Brenda and the doctor,” Helen said. “She tried to kill me. But she didn’t take the doctor’s money. She wants three meals a day, medical care and no rent. If she goes to prison, she’ll spend the rest of her life being cared for.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Cam said.

“You’ve never had to worry about your next meal,” Helen said, staring pointedly at Cam’s inflated midsection. Xaviera giggled. Cam’s ears turned red.

“You don’t have to worry about your rent, your credit card bills, or your car payment,” Helen said.

“Hey,” Cam said, “nobody’s rich in this office.”

“Yes, but you’re lucky, Cam. Jackie didn’t have a doting mommy hand her two hundred sixty thousand dollars.”

“You were in my desk drawer,” Cam said. “That’s private. I’m filing a complaint with HR.”

Helen crossed to Cam’s desk and lowered her voice so only he could hear. “Really? Done any ‘relaxing’ lately?”

Cam swallowed hard.

“Remember,” Helen said. “They give random drug tests at the club. It takes three days to get pot out of your system. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to make a phone call.”

“You’re calling HR!” Cam looked panicked.

“I’m going to catch a thief,” Helen said.

CHAPTER 31

“How’d you manage to shut Cam up?” Jessica whispered.

“That’s a trick I’d like to know.”

“I reminded him the club does random drug testing,” Helen said. “He’s shaking in his shoes, afraid I’ll call human resources.”

“I hope you do. I’d love to get rid of that lazy creep,” Jessica said.

“Sorry. I’m after bigger game,” Helen said. “Jackie didn’t take Dr. Dell’s cash. But I think I know who did.”

“Why are you saving the woman who wanted to kill you?” Jessica said.

“Because one day I snapped, just like she did. Only I was lucky. I beat up an SUV instead of my ex.”

“You weren’t lucky,” Jessica said. “You’re a better person than you give yourself credit for. Jackie plotted to kill you to save her own skin.

She didn’t try to murder you in the heat of the moment.”

“I’m still here,” Helen said.

She couldn’t find it in her heart to condemn Jackie. Like her, Helen had fallen from a great height. Except Helen had had a softer landing—and better friends. She’d learned a bitter lesson after her divorce: You never knew who’d stand by you. Even Helen’s mother had abandoned her.

Well, she wouldn’t brood about that.

Helen picked up the phone on her desk and called the offices of the late Dr. Dell. The line was busy. It took three tries to get through. The doctor’s practice seemed to be thriving without him.

She got the same chatty receptionist.

“Hi,” Helen said. “I’m a friend of Mandy’s. Is she back from her cruise yet?”

“Yes, she’s at home,” the receptionist chirped.

“And living in her husband’s house off Johnson Street, right? Except it’s her house now, too.”

“That’s the place. I hear she misses her pretty little Pembroke townhouse. No pool where she’s at now.” Helen heard it. That note of malice said this woman would dish with a little encouragement.

Helen summoned her courage to ask the next question. It was a wild guess. “So when’s the baby due? I wanted to send a gift.”

“Mandy’s almost six months,” the receptionist said.

Bingo! Helen thought. My hunch was right. She wasn’t fat. She was pregnant.

“Looks like she shoplifted a beach ball. She’s going to be big as a house.” The receptionist couldn’t hide her glee.

“I bet the baby will have Mom’s hair,” Helen said.

“If it’s smart, it will. Dad has dark hair, too. I’d say the chances it will be a brunette are good, unless someone’s been playing around.”

It was hard to keep a secret in a doctor’s office, Helen thought. “I want to send Mandy a gift, but I think I wrote down her address wrong,” Helen said. “I have it as five four eight three Taney.”

“I think you sort of reversed the numbers,” the receptionist said.

“It’s eight five three six. Stop by and see her. Mandy might like some company. I hear her handyman husband’s working overtime these days, trying to make enough money for the baby.” Once again, Helen heard the smug satisfaction in the receptionist’s voice.

Helen hung up the phone, sweating with relief. She’d guessed right.

Mandy was pregnant. She’d bet her next paycheck the doctor was the father. Helen suspected Mandy had tried to blackmail the doctor with the baby.

Helen hoped the poor child didn’t look like Dr. Dell. She wondered if they made infant depilatories. Any baby sired by the doc would look like an orangutan.

Helen kept checking her watch. She hadn’t done any work all day, but she was exhausted. Solange, Cam, Xaviera and Jessica left the office at five. Kitty and Helen stayed until six. After what happened to Helen, Kitty decreed none of her staff would work alone in the office.

Finally, it was five fifty-six. Helen uploaded the day’s computer data and cleaned off her desk. “You clock out, sweetpea,” Kitty said. “I’ll close up.”

Helen crawled through the highway traffic in the belching Toad, trailed by thick black smoke. She was glad Phil worked late to night.