Scene of the Brine (23 page)

27

Y
es, this is Gwen,” Lydia Porter's sister said cheerfully into the phone. “And who are you?”

“This is Piper Lamb. I own the pickling shop?”

“Yes, hi! How're you doing? What can I do for you?”

“I need to know where Lydia is right now.”

“Lydia?” Gwen paused. “She's gone out.”

“Yes, but do you know where?”

“I haven't the faintest, sorry.” Gwen paused, possibly picking up on the urgency in Piper's voice. “Want me to try Lydia's cell? I can do it while you're holding on.”

“Yes, please do.” Piper waited, shifting her weight as Gwen apparently used her own cell phone to call her sister.

After a few moments she heard, “No luck. It went to voice mail. Or
the black hole
, as I call it.”

Unsurprised, Piper asked, “What kind of car does Lydia drive? Do you know the license number?”

“License number? Good grief, no. I do know it's a Lexus, though. And it's black.”

Piper heard Gwen speak to someone else.

“Mallory doesn't know the license number, either,” she said, coming back on the phone.

“Mallory's there?” Piper perked up. “Would you put her on?”

Piper heard a muffled discussion, as though Gwen needed to persuade her niece to take the phone. After what seemed like hours, Mallory finally said, “Hello?”

“Mallory, it's Piper.”

“Yes, I know. Hello, Piper.” Mallory sounded hesitant and Piper knew she needed to tread slowly. Frustrating though that was, it was her only hope of getting anything from Lydia's daughter.

“Mallory, I'm really hoping you can help me.”

“Me? With what?”

“Remember that person I told you about who once worked as librarian at your old school? Frances Billings?”

There was an excruciatingly long pause, then Mallory said, “Yes, I remember.”

“Did your mother mention her at all? Maybe yesterday? Or today?”

Another pause dragged on until Mallory finally said, “Yes.”

O . . . kay.
“Can you tell me what she said?”

“I don't know if I should tell you.”

“Mallory, this is very important. Ms. Billings's life could be at stake. I know you've always done what your mother wanted you to do, but I'm just as sure that you're ready to think for yourself. Your mother may have made some very bad decisions and it's time to put a stop to it all. Will you help me do that, please?”

Piper waited for what seemed like an eternity. For a horrible moment she feared Mallory had put the phone down and walked away. Had Lydia irreparably broken her daughter down? Then she heard Mallory's answer.

“Yes.”

It was a single word but Piper grabbed at it. “You'll help?”

“Yes. My mother was very upset. She said Ms. Billings had lied. That she'd hidden who she really was.”

Exactly what Piper had expected!

“Thank you, Mallory. Did your mother say she was going to see her?”

“No, she didn't say that.”

“Your mother did go out today, though. I think she planned to see Ms. Billings. I don't know where that would be. Do you have any idea where your mother would have gone with Ms. Billings?”

Piper waited, assuming Mallory was thinking. What were the chances she would come up with something? If Lydia were planning murder, how likely was it that she'd mention to anyone where that would be? But it was all Piper had to go on.

“Wait a minute,” Mallory said. “Mother was on her laptop this morning. I think she might have been checking a map.”

Piper heard the phone clunk as Mallory dropped it. Piper caught herself holding her breath and quickly sucked in air. This was not the time to pass out. She waited, phone held tightly to her ear, and paced in circles, barely aware of patrons of the White Swan entering and leaving the tearoom only steps away. Finally she heard scrambling noises as Mallory picked up again.

“She was checking directions to the Birch Café. That's probably where she went. It's in Bellingham on Birch Street near Tenth.”

“Thank you, Mallory!”

“You're welcome, Piper.”

Piper heard a new tone of confidence in Mallory's voice and knew what it meant. She also knew what it might cost Mallory but that was something to think about later. Piper said good-bye and called her shop assistant next, instead of the sheriff's office.

“Amy,” she said, “is your father there?”

“Dad? No, he's off fishing.”

“Can you reach him? I don't think the person answering calls at his office is taking me seriously. You're my only hope for getting through to your dad.” She explained what was going on. “I'm heading over to the Birch Café right now. I hope you can convince your father to have someone from the Bellingham police meet me there.”

“Absolutely. Assuming I can get through to his cell. Sometimes service is sketchy where he goes.”

“Try.” Piper thought a moment. “And if you can't get your dad, call Ben Schaeffer.” An auxiliary police officer, Piper reasoned, was better than no one, and she might need any help she could get. “Also, pass on that Lydia Porter is driving a black Lexus but I don't have the license number.”

“Will do.”

Piper was in her car by then. She ended the call to look up Tenth and Birch Streets in Bellingham on her phone app, then drove off, keeping the screen at hand for last-minute checks. She wound her way through Cloverdale, fighting an urge to hurry that would only put others at risk. Once she made it to the highway, she picked up speed, though traffic and limited passing opportunities continued to frustrate her.

Piper's mind moved faster than her car, running over all the possibilities as she drove—at times convinced she was right, at others worried that she could be very wrong—and that everything she had set in motion, including herself, could end up as one huge embarrassment. Bad as that might be, it was nothing compared to what the result would be if she was right—and too late. Piper pressed harder on her accelerator at the thought.

Signs for Bellingham appeared and Piper watched anxiously for the turnoff, her eyes flicking often from road to clock. Twenty minutes had passed since she'd left the White Swan. How many had gone by since Frances Billings climbed into that black Lexus?

The exit arrived and Piper took it, glancing at the small screen on her older-model phone for help but getting none. Why hadn't she invested in a decent GPS? Or downloaded a newer app for her aged phone? One that spoke to you? Because, she answered herself, she always thought she had time to study the way to unknown places. Who knew she'd someday be making a life-or-death trip to an obscure café in the middle of Bellingham, a town she knew only for its hospital and shopping mall? Piper scanned signs at the end of the ramp and made a quick decision to turn right.

Hating to do it, but unsure of what to do next, she pulled over to study her digital map. The Birch Café was tucked in the center of a horror of a maze of streets. Had Lydia chosen it for that reason? Piper did her best to memorize the complicated route, then pulled back onto the road. The first part of her drive, on main highways, was easy. It very quickly became mind-boggling.

Pulling over twice more during the process, Piper feared Frances Billings's only hope would be if Amy reached her sheriff father, who would then set the Bellingham police into motion. Barring that, would Ben Schaeffer be of help? Piper had no idea if Ben would be able to zero in on the Birch Café any faster than she was. The pile of unknowns began pressing down with crushing weight but Piper pushed on, aware that she might end up being the only hope of rescue.

A series of wrong turns, one oblivious pass of the unobtrusive café, and a circle back brought Piper—amazingly—to her target. The Birch Café sat tucked between a tiny grocery store and a beauty salon, its sign visible only to the few who searched carefully. Piper pulled into the single open space—at a fire hydrant—and was out of her car in an instant. Would the women be there? Or would the crafty Lydia have changed locations once again? She couldn't hope to string along Frances, who was nobody's fool, for too long, Piper told herself as she took off toward the café at a run.

She pushed through the café door and paused. The café was deeper than she'd expected and apparently popular, with many tables filled, making it difficult to locate who she was looking for.

“Can I help—?” a hostess began, but Piper suddenly spotted Frances Billings, sitting alone at a table set for two against the far wall. Her face was flushed and she clutched at her throat as though gasping for breath.

“Call 911,” Piper cried. “That woman in the purple dress needs help!”

28

T
he hostess of the Birch Café looked where Piper pointed. “Oh! Oh, my goodness!” she cried, and spun toward the desk.

“Is there a doctor here?” Piper called, weaving rapidly between the tables to reach Frances. “Anyone?”

“I'm a nurse!” A woman seated near the front of the café jumped up and followed after Piper.

When they reached Frances, she was gasping. The people at nearby tables scattered to make room as Piper and the nurse helped Frances lie down.

“I think she's been poisoned,” Piper told the nurse, whose face registered shock. “The desk is calling 911. Make sure they take her food with them to be tested. It might seem like a heart attack, but it could be bloodroot. Possibly something else.”

The nurse nodded, though still stunned, and took charge at that point, leaving Piper able to scan the café. Where was Lydia? She scrambled up, leaving Frances with the nurse, and hurried back to the hostess.

“There were two people at that table. Where did the other person go?”

The hostess looked at Piper blankly, clearly struggling just to process all that was happening. Piper left her and ran to the door. She leaned out to scan the street in the direction of her car but saw no one. She looked the other way and spotted a woman in a dark suit walking rapidly, closing in on a black Lexus at the end of the block.

Piper rushed out, but before she got more than a few feet, Lydia had jumped into the Lexus and was taking off. Piper raced back to her own hatchback, praying that Lydia wouldn't disappear from sight before she could get behind the wheel.

Piper screeched out of her spot, barely missing a red Ford coming from the opposite direction, and turned right at the intersection, as she'd seen Lydia's Lexus do. She soon spied the black car up ahead, hampered by the congested, narrow street, as was Piper. Two cars separated them but Piper was able to keep Lydia in sight, though aware that could change at any moment.

She watched as the Lexus turned left on a green light up ahead. The car behind it slowed as the light changed to yellow, then red. “No!” Piper cried as both cars ahead of her stopped. But each then turned right after the required pause at the intersection. Piper, now first in line, looked to the left to see Lydia's Lexus disappearing in the distance. She checked cross traffic and decided to chance it, swinging left in front of an approaching white van whose horn blared and whose driver no doubt cursed as he braked to avoid collision. Her heart racing, Piper saw the tail end of the Lexus turning right up ahead. She pressed down on her accelerator to close the distance between them enough to see Lydia take the ramp leading to the highway.

Piper raced to pull onto the ramp herself, appalled to see heavy traffic flowing.
Didn't anyone stay home anymore?
She eased onto the congested roadway, struggling to keep moving safely while watching for the Lexus. Then she spotted it. Unable to close the gap between them, the best Piper could do was keep the black car in view, thankful that the traffic at least kept Lydia from taking too far off.

Had Lydia seen her give chase outside the café? Piper couldn't be sure, though if she had, Lydia would know her plan to get away with an attempt on Frances's life was shattered. Lydia had probably picked the Birch Café as a place she would be unknown and where the busy staff would be unlikely to come up with a description. With Piper able to place her at the scene, any attempt to manufacture an alibi would be useless. Was Lydia instead hoping to escape altogether? If that were the case, Piper intended to put a stop to that as well, though exactly how was still up in the air.

The Lexus changed lanes, then took the exit for Cloverdale. Piper, working her way through the traffic, was able to follow suit. Though several cars behind, she still had Lydia in sight. Was Lydia heading home after all, she wondered? Perhaps ready to give up altogether? Piper wanted to hope so. But then the Lexus suddenly turned off onto a side road. Where was Lydia heading? Puzzled, Piper continued to follow. Then it hit her. That road led straight to Sugar's place!

Piper scrambled for her cell phone. Deciding her best bet of direct contact to the sheriff would again be through his daughter, she called that number.

“Amy! Did you reach your father?”

“Yes, but it took a while. He informed the Bellingham police. Did they get there?”

“Not in time.” She gave Amy a quick rundown of what had happened and her current location.

“Tell your father to send someone to Sugar Heywood's place. Lydia is heading there. I don't know what she has in mind, but it can't be for anything good. I'm right behind but I'll need help!”

“I'll get him,” Amy promised and immediately disconnected.

Piper drew a deep breath, confident that aid would come. But how soon? She pressed down on her gas pedal to close the gap between Lydia and herself.
She
, at least, had Lydia in sight.