Dusted to Death (20 page)

With a nod, she hurried up the steps to the front door. Once she was inside, the first thing Charlotte noticed was the blinking light on her answering machine. Ignoring it for the moment, she rushed around and, using a couple of tote bags, gathered the few things she needed for her overnight stay. She also adjusted her thermostat and made sure that Sweety Boy had plenty of food and water.

Ever aware of the passing time, she quickly replayed her messages: one from Bitsy, one from Hank, one from Louis telling her that if things went well, he’d be home on Thursday, and the last one from Bert O’Banion.

Bert!

“Hi, Charlotte. Bet you’re surprised to hear from me. Listen, there’s something I need to talk to you about, so give me a call. I’ll be waiting. My number is—”

Charlotte quickly grabbed a pen and pad and scribbled down his phone number. “Humph!” she grunted. So Bert had something he needed to talk to her about. And Louis had something
he
needed to talk to her about. “Well, stand in line, boys,” she drawled. “Stand in line.”

With a shake of her head, she stuffed the phone number into her pocket. After erasing the messages, she grabbed her tote bags and purse, and headed for the door. Right now, her biggest worry was staying alive.

By the time Charlotte arrived at her sister’s home the sun was setting and there was still no sign of the black SUV. True to his word, Gavin Brown had followed her all the way.

Gathering her bags, Charlotte slid out of the van and locked the door. To her surprise, Gavin got out of his car and walked over to where she was standing.

“Thank you,” she said.

His only response was a nod. Then he said, “Don’t go back home until you hear from me. Once we check out your story and locate this Toby Russell character, I’ll let you know. Also, I need a number for Benny Jackson.” He pulled a small notebook and a pen out of his pocket.

Charlotte nodded. “His number is on my cell. Just a second.” She set down her bags, then dug her cell phone out of her purse. After pressing some numbers on the phone, she showed him the number on the tiny screen and he jotted it down.

“Now give me the number here at your sister’s house.”

Charlotte told him Madeline’s phone number, and he wrote it down. He slipped the notebook and pen back inside his pocket, and said, “Don’t discuss this with anyone else. The fewer people who know about this, the better chance we have of locating Toby Russell and solving this thing.”

“Okay.” Charlotte dropped her cell phone back inside her purse. “But I’ll have to tell my sister something.”

Gavin chuckled. “With your imagination, I’m sure you can come up with some kind of reason.”

Charlotte grimaced and picked up her bags. In other words, she was going to have to lie to Madeline.

“One last thing,” he cautioned. “Don’t go anywhere without checking in with me.”

“Okay, but—”

“No buts.”

“Just listen,” she insisted. “Tom Rolland, the producer, asked me to work tomorrow. They’re dismantling the set and moving Mrs. Duhè’s stuff back in. Once that’s done, the place will need a good cleaning, which is why they hired me in the first place. I know for a fact that Lagniappe Security will have someone there, a guard named Samantha O’Reilly,” she added. “My friend Louis Thibodeaux says she’s one of the best guards that Lagniappe has. Do you know Louis?”

“Yeah, I know him, and yeah, Sam is pretty capable, but that doesn’t alter the fact that a man got killed on their watch. Lagniappe really dropped the ball on that one.”

He had a point, a really good point, so what was she thinking? After what she’d been through, it was pretty stupid to even consider going anywhere until Toby Russell, a.k.a. Alex Scott, was firmly in custody. Charlotte shivered just thinking about what could happen.

“Look, Mrs. LaRue, it would be easier all around if you just stayed put until we find this guy.”

“You’re right,” she agreed, somewhat relieved. “And I know it doesn’t seem that important, considering the circumstances; it’s just that Mrs. Duhè is an elderly lady and a longtime client who depends on me. Besides which, Mega Films is paying me a lot of money for this job. But only if I actually do the job,” she emphasized.

“Believe me, I understand, but right now your safety is more important than a job or the money.”

Both relieved and disappointed, Charlotte sighed. “Yes, I do realize that.”

“Tell you what, just as soon as I know anything, I’ll call you. And if it helps, I can contact Tom Rolland too. I can always come up with a reason why the crime scene shouldn’t be disturbed yet. Meanwhile, I’ll put in a call and request that a patrol car be assigned to make extra rounds by this address.”

Charlotte smiled, amazed at the complete change of attitude in the detective in such a short time. “Thanks,” she said, and really meant it. “As for Tom Rolland, I’ll handle him. A delay for a day or two won’t make that much difference.” At least she hoped it wouldn’t. Bitsy wouldn’t be pleased with a delay and neither would Tom Rolland, especially since she couldn’t explain why she was going to have to miss work tomorrow, but oh, well, too bad. She really had no choice in the matter.

“Okay, then, I’ll be in touch. Now get inside so I can get to work.”

Charlotte nodded and headed for Madeline’s front door. At the door she only had to knock once before Madeline immediately opened it. “Well, it’s about time,” Madeline said. “I’ve been waiting on pins and needles for you to get here.”

“Nice to see you too, Maddie.” As Charlotte stepped through the doorway, she glanced over her shoulder. Gavin Brown was still standing where she’d left him, watching and waiting to make sure she was safely inside before he left. With a sigh, she firmly closed the door behind her.

When Charlotte set down her bags, then turned and locked the door and slid the safety chain into place, Maddie’s eyes widened in alarm. “What in the devil is going on?”

Buying time to think of what she was going to tell her sister, Charlotte said, “Can I at least put my pajamas on first? And I’d love a glass of iced tea, if you’ve got some made.”

With a grunt of disbelief, Madeline waved her hand toward the guest bedroom. “By all means, sister, dear, make yourself at home. But I want an explanation.”

“Okay, okay,” Charlotte retorted. “No need to get all huffy about it.”

“Well, hurry up.”

Rolling her eyes, Charlotte grabbed her bags and headed for the bedroom.

Feeling much more comfortable in her pajamas a few minutes later, Charlotte left the guest room and went in search of her sister. Though she’d come up with a couple of outright lies to tell Maddie, she’d finally decided to simply tell her sister the truth.

She found Madeline waiting for her in the kitchen. “Here’s your tea.” Maddie handed Charlotte the glass. “Now sit!” She pointed to a chair at the kitchen table.

Charlotte smiled at her sister. “Yes, ma’am.” Once they were both seated at the table, Charlotte said, “All I can tell you is that I can’t tell you anything.”

“What? You’ve got to be kidding!”

Charlotte shrugged. “Nope. I was told not to tell anybody.”

Madeline narrowed her eyes. “This has something to do with that movie business job you took and that man being murdered, doesn’t it?”

S
uddenly unsure again what to tell her sister, Charlotte took a sip of her tea. Now what?

Just stick to the truth.

Yeah, that’s probably best
. She gave her sister a no-nonsense look. “Like I said, all I can tell you is that I can’t tell you anything.”

Madeline glanced up at the ceiling as if seeking guidance for a hopeless cause. “I knew it! I just knew it!” She jerked her head forward and glared at Charlotte. “When none of us could get in touch with you Sunday or Monday, I told Judith then that I bet you were somehow involved in that mess. I swear, Charlotte, you’re like a magnet when it comes to murders.”

Charlotte simply shrugged, since there was nothing she could say. On the outside, she was sure it appeared that way, but what was she supposed to do? Let a murderer go free?

Suddenly an old quote used by John F. Kennedy in some of his speeches chased through her head.
All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing.

Charlotte sighed. Nope, this particular murderer wasn’t going free, not if she could help it. But right now, she needed to somehow placate her sister. “Maddie, I really do appreciate you letting me stay here. I know you’re upset with me, and I’m sorry about that.” Unable to help herself, she yawned. “Oh, my goodness,” she said. “I think I’m done for tonight. If you don’t mind, I really need to go to bed.”

Without waiting for her sister to respond, Charlotte shoved out of her chair and walked over to the sink. She poured out the remaining tea into the sink and put the glass in the dishwasher.

Charlotte turned to face her sister. “Just one more thing. I’m expecting a phone call either tonight or tomorrow, so if the phone rings late tonight, don’t get upset.” Not that she was really “expecting” Gavin Brown to call, not exactly. More like hoping and praying. The sooner this mess was over, the sooner she could get back to her real life.

Madeline’s expression was a mask of stone, but she finally stood up. “Like I said before, make yourself at home.”

“Don’t be mad at me,” Charlotte pleaded. Madeline was her only sibling, and she hated it when they argued or disagreed. “I promise that I’ll explain everything when I can.” Though her sister’s expression still didn’t change, Charlotte walked over and hugged her anyway. “Good night, hon. And thanks again.”

When the phone did actually ring, Charlotte groaned. What time was it anyway? She forced her eyes open. Since it was dark outside, it had to still be night. She rolled over in the bed and glared at the illuminated dial of the clock on the bedside table. Three o’clock.

With another groan she reached over and turned on the lamp, then grabbed the telephone. “Hello?”

“Mrs. LaRue?”

“Yes, Detective. It’s me.”

“Good news!”

“Well, I should hope so, given the time of night—or should I say morning?—that you’re calling me. Did you get him?”

“Yes and no.”

“What do you mean, ‘Yes
and
no’?”

“He checked out of his hotel, and we’ve traced him to the airport. According to Southwest Airlines, he boarded a plane headed for Hollywood around midnight. We contacted the California FBI and they’ll be at the airport to take him into custody just as soon as his plane lands.”

“The FBI?”

“Yeah, well, besides murder and unlawful flight to avoid prosecution, we’re charging him with attempted kidnapping as well.”

“Who did he try to kidnap?”

Gavin Brown laughed. “Why, you, of course. Yeah, I know, it’s a stretch, but we wanted to throw everything we could at him.”

“Okay, that’s great. So, does this mean that I was right about Toby and Alex being the same person?”

“Yeah, it sure looks that way. The lab finally got back to us, and we got a set of fingerprints back that matched Alex Scott’s. Our boys are still going through all of the movie props to find those other two letter openers, but
we will
find them, one way or another.”

“A man named Dalton was in charge of all of the props,” she offered.

“Yeah, well, we’re still trying to get in touch with him.”

“He should be at Mrs. Duhè’s house in the morning,” she told him. “And speaking of tomorrow, does this mean it’s okay for me to go to work?”

There was a slight hesitation; then Gavin said, “I’d rather you didn’t—not until we actually have this Scott guy in custody—but I guess it won’t hurt. One of our crime scene guys is going to go through the house again, just in case those props are still there. If you do go, make sure that Sam knows what’s going on.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll make good and sure she knows.”

“Well, I just wanted to let you know what was happening. Be careful and be cautious.”

“Good night, Detective.”

“Night, ma’am.”

Charlotte turned off the phone and placed it on the bedside table, then switched off the lamp. She should be feeling a huge relief, she thought as she turned over onto her side and pulled the covers up to her chin. So why wasn’t she? Probably because she was still half asleep and still so very tired. Yep, she decided. That had to be the reason.

She should also call Benny and let him know what was going on. She snuggled down farther in the bed. Too late tonight. She’d call him tomorrow. What she needed now was a good night’s sleep. After a good night’s sleep, she was sure she’d feel better about everything in the morning.

When Charlotte woke up the following morning, any relief that she’d expected to feel was buried beneath a horrific headache. In the bathroom, she splashed water on her face. After a brief, fruitless search for Tylenol, she figured that the kitchen was the most likely place Maddie would keep medications. Besides, if she wasn’t mistaken, she could smell coffee.

Charlotte entered the kitchen and found it empty. So where was Maddie? Maybe she was still asleep. Then, on the cabinet in front of the coffeepot, she spied a piece of paper. Charlotte picked up the note and read it.

What time was it anyway? And where did Maddie keep her Tylenol? She glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Nine o’clock,” she cried. Oh, for pity’s sake. She couldn’t believe she’d slept that long.

Heaving a sigh, Charlotte began opening cabinets. First Tylenol, then coffee. Then a shower and breakfast. She finally found the Tylenol, along with various other medicines, in a narrow cabinet next to the sink. Swallowing two of the capsules, she decided she should probably have a glass of juice and take a shower
before
breakfast and coffee. The last thing she needed was one of those weak spells again.

In the shower, Charlotte kept thinking back to her conversation with Gavin Brown. Parts of the conversation were a bit hazy, but there were parts of it that kept nagging her.

Though the detective didn’t mention it, the fact that Toby knew that she knew about his masquerade was puzzling. And he did know. Had to. Why else would he have come after her?

Charlotte stepped out of the shower, and as she dried herself off, she finally figured out that the other thing nagging her had to do with the duplicate letter openers. Why hadn’t anyone found them? While she dressed, she thought back to the day Nick Franklin had been murdered. Maybe the crime scene team didn’t find them in the beginning because, for one, they didn’t know about the duplicates, and two, if they didn’t know about the duplicates, they wouldn’t have searched for them. Since they had already found the so-called murder weapon on the floor beside the body, there was no reason to look any further?

Her head feeling somewhat better after the Tylenol and shower, Charlotte headed back to the kitchen. So, how did Toby know about her learning his secret? No way could he have figured it out just because she was staring at him during that meeting. And where on earth would he have stashed the other two letter openers? More importantly, where would he have stashed the one he’d used to murder Nick Franklin?

Charlotte grimaced. “Not my problem now,” she muttered as she fixed herself a bowl of Cheerios and poured a cup of coffee. She’d done her part by pointing out the real murderer. It was up to the police to do the rest. Still, like a mosquito bite that wouldn’t stop itching, the unanswered questions wouldn’t leave her alone.

Charlotte shook her head.
Stop it! Just forget about it
. What she needed was to think about something else, get her mind on something more positive. Setting the bowl of cereal and coffee on the table, she glanced at the microwave clock again. Instead of worrying about stuff that no longer concerned her, she needed to decide if she was going to work today.

By the time she’d finished the cereal and coffee, she decided that going into work would take less effort than having to phone Bitsy and Tom Rolland, and make up some lie to tell them. Besides, just the thought of having to placate Bitsy was enough to bring back her headache.

When Charlotte parked the van in front of Bitsy’s house, the place was a beehive of activity. Not only was there a crew moving stuff in and out, but the NOPD Crime Scene Van was also parked just down the street.

Though she knew she was being paranoid and in spite of Gavin Brown’s reassurances, Charlotte glanced around, just to make sure there was no black SUV parked nearby. She didn’t see one, but she did see Samantha O’Reilly standing near the door on the front porch.

When Charlotte got out of the van, Samantha waved at her. Charlotte waved back, and after unloading her supply carrier, she locked the door. Halfway between her van and the front porch, out of the blue she suddenly remembered that she’d totally forgotten about returning the phone calls on her answering machine. She definitely needed to call Hank, but Bitsy could wait. Bert could wait too. As for Louis, there was nothing in his message that required her to return the call.

With the phone calls on her mind, thoughts of Benny popped into her head. “Oh, shoot,” she whispered, her footsteps slowing. She’d meant to call Benny…really
needed
to call him.

Charlotte frowned, and her footsteps slowed even more. She found it pretty strange that she hadn’t heard a word out of Benny since he’d dropped her off at her house on Monday evening. Her frown faded. She did need to tell him what was going on, though, and this would be the perfect reason to call him.

“Don’t discuss this with anyone else.”
Gavin Brown’s voice echoed in her head.

But that was before they’d tracked down Toby, she silently argued. Now that they knew where he was, surely it was okay to tell Benny, of all people.

Still mulling over her dilemma, Charlotte climbed the steps to Bitsy’s house.

“How’s it going, Charlotte?” Samantha called out.

A grin tugged at Charlotte’s lips. “That’s a loaded question. Are you sure you really want to know?”

When Samantha simply shrugged, Charlotte said, “Just kidding. I do have a few things I need to tell you, though.”

“Sounds serious.” Samantha motioned toward a bench near the end of the porch. “Step into my office and let’s talk.”

“Some office,” Charlotte commented teasingly, once they were seated on the bench.

Samantha simply smiled, then said, “So, what’s going on?”

Charlotte filled her in about everything that had happened since the murder, as best she could. When she’d finished, she added, “Even though the police think they’ll catch him, Detective Brown wanted me to let you know what’s happening, just in case.”

A puzzled look crossed Samantha’s face. “Just in case what?”

Charlotte shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.” She paused a moment. “I’ve been thinking about the reasons why Toby followed me yesterday.”

Samantha nodded. “Yeah, that’s a bit weird. How did he even know that you were on to him?”

“I’m not really sure, but he did know—that I’m sure of. I guess he thought that he needed to get rid of me before I told anyone. But once I told the police about him, he wouldn’t really have a reason to bother me. At least I hope not.”

Samantha nodded. “Sounds logical. But if I were you, I’d still want to know how he found out about you.”

“I do want to know.” She paused, lost in thought. Then the answer came to her. “Off the top of my head, I figure that someone in Oakdale had to have tipped him off.”

Samantha pursed her lips. “Anyone in particular?”

Charlotte thought about that for a moment. “I’d say that the Scotts’ housekeeper would be the most likely person, but I was very careful not to give her my name when I talked to her. My best guess is Dawn Sanders—the nurse—but what I can’t figure out is why she would be so eager to give us information that first time we talked to her, then simply disappear.”

“If it were me, I’d try calling her again and outright confront her about it.”

“Maybe, but I’ll have to add that call to a long list of calls I need to make.” Out of the corner of her eye, Charlotte noted that two of the moving men were headed up the front steps with one of Bitsy’s sofas.

“Hey, guys,” she called out to the men. “Please be careful with that. It’s a really expensive antique.”

Though the men seemingly ignored her, she noticed that they did slow down to ease the sofa through the entrance door in an attempt not to scratch it. To Samantha, she said, “I guess I need to get to work, but first I should probably go in and see what kind of damage has been done so far. Bitsy will never forgive me if they damage any of her stuff.”

“Bitsy?”

Charlotte smiled. “Mrs. Bitsy Duhè, the owner of the house.”

“Oh, yeah. I knew that the house belonged to a Mrs. Duhè, but I didn’t know that her first name was Bitsy. Say, didn’t we once have a mayor with the last name Duhè?”

Charlotte nodded as she stood up. “We did, and Bitsy was his wife.”

Samantha stood up as well. “Listen, Charlotte, about that other stuff, thanks for clueing me in. And, ‘just in case,’ I’ll be extra vigilant today.” She grinned. “Besides, Louis would have my hide if anything happened to you.”

Charlotte forced a brittle smile, then headed for the entrance door.
Louis, Louis, Louis
. That man was going to drive her crazy.