Traci Tyne Hilton - Mitzi Neuhaus 03 - Buyer's Remorse (18 page)

Fiona shuddered and tried to step away from the two women who were touching her but there were three more behind her.

“You’ve got a lot of work ahead of you. Just look at us! Tera would die if we all looked like this for the pictures. Come on!” The girl who was taking charge pulled Fiona forward by the shoulder and the press of girls around her forced her to stay inside the crowd. The women made their way upstairs to the rooms the bride and her friends had been partying in for two days.

As soon as the girls marshaled Fiona up the back stairs, Mitzy turned to her computer. She didn’t know how much time she had just won, but she knew it was at least a twenty minute drive to
Alice
’s house. She had to work fast.

First, Mitzy stopped the recording. She pulled out her phone and thumbed through the numbers as quick as she could. Her best bet was the police hotline for tips on the Lara Capet case. She wished she could call a trusted officer and have a team whisk down and nab Fiona this minute, based entirely on Mitzy’s word, but this would have to do. She found the hotline number and dialed it. “I’m sending you a video of the confession!”

“Calm down, what?”

“Confession!
The confession! I’ve got it on film. But I have to get out of here! She’s headed to Alice McNinch’s home to kill her. I’ve got to get out of here.”

Mitzy was typing while she spoke. She hit send. “Check your email. It will explain everything. And send a car to Alice McNinch’s home.” Mitzy gave the address and hung up before they could start asking complicated questions. Then she ran down the stairs and straight to the kitchen.

Her cup sat behind the dish soap just as it had done every day since she started sleeping there. She pulled open the kitchen drawers looking for the large plastic freezer bags. As soon as she found the box she grabbed two bags out. She wore one like a glove and picked up her coffee mug with it. She dropped the mug in the other zip lock bag and sealed it shut. The evidence was safe. But there was no sign of Fiona yet. How long would it take the girls upstairs to realize they had the wrong lady? Mitzy fingered her phone, her stomach in knots. Should she call the cops and have them come here instead? It was worth a shot.

She dialed the Capet hotline again. “This is Mitzy again. The murderer is still here at my hotel, The Miramontes. Maybe you can get the officers here instead of at the McNinch house?
Or maybe both?”

“You just sent us the email with the confession?” the person on the phone asked.

“Yes! That was me.” A sigh of relief escaped Mitzy. They had the confession.

“There was a problem with the email. Could you send it again?” The officer asked.

“What? I-yes-I can but…Is there time? Can’t you get someone down here now? She’s tried to poison me and I have the evidence.”

“Take a deep breath and calm down,” the officer said. “We need you to send us the video you made before anything else. We’ll get you the help you need. Relax.”

“Relax?!” Mitzy’s heart jumped into her throat.

“Yes, that’s right. Just relax. We get a lot of calls on this line and we really need to see the video before we make our move.”

Mitzy ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs. “Just don’t hang up,” she said. “I’ll send it to you and play it for you over the phone. How’s that? That way you can get someone here right away.”

The sound of feet stomping on the stairs made Mitzy stop for a moment. Fiona might be leaving. “But you’ve got to hurry!” She made it to her room and hit play on the video, holding the phone up to the speaker.

“Hello? Hello?”

Mitzy could hear the officer on the phone talking over her video. She put the phone back up to her ear.

“Yes?” she said.

“That worked. We heard it. I’m sending someone to The Miramontes right now. Try to keep her there and also send that video over ASAP.”

“I’ll do my best.” Mitzy hit send on the video again. “Dear Lord,” she prayed, “Please
stop
Fiona.”

Carmella watched Mitzy run out of the kitchen. She was talking on her cell phone and carrying a coffee cup in a zip lock baggy. The cup had been filled with some kind of scuzz this morning so Carmella had washed it for her. Not that Mitzy would notice or care. Carmella heard a guest room door slam.

Carmella kept her eye open for the little redheaded woman who had run upstairs. After speaking to the hair-and-make-up people for today’s photo shoot Carmella wished she had asked them all to check in with her. It would be hard to report any “mysterious” goings on to the FBI if she wasn’t sure who was supposed to be here and who wasn’t.

She tried to keep her judgments to herself, but that redhead didn’t make any sense to her. She didn’t have a caboodle with her so she couldn’t be hair or makeup. She was too short to be a member of the bride’s family; the bride was at least 6 feet tall. Carmella didn’t see how the redhead could be related to the groom either, as he was an islander of some sort. But then, the 6-foot blonde getting married this weekend would be an islander too, when all was said and done.

Carmella shrugged and turned the page of her magazine. The redheaded lady had a sour enough expression to be part of the wedding. Everyone she’d spoken with about this affair had seemed stretched to the breaking point.

Carmella glanced at the staircase and a flash of red caught her eye. The little redheaded woman was coming back down. Carmella eased herself off the stool and met the lady at the bottom of the staircase.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“I’m just leaving,” the woman said in a breathless voice.

“Upstairs is just for guests. May I have your room number?” Carmella gave the woman her best evil eye.

“I’m just on my way out,” The little redheaded lady said. She had one hand pressed to her side. Carmella thought she must have run down all of the stairs.

“What were you doing upstairs?” Carmella asked.

“I’m in a hurry. Would you please let me pass?”

“I don’t think so,” Carmella said. “The upper floors are just for paying guests. I need you to come with me to the office. I’m going to need to search that bag.”

The redheaded lady tried to rush past Carmella, but Carmella put out one long, elegant arm and caught her.

“This way, ma’am.”
It might turn out to be nothing, but Carmella had been commissioned by the FBI to report anything unusual occurring here, and this, she thought, was at least a bit unusual.

Carmella settled the redheaded woman in the office. She gave her a chair and took her purse. With the purse sitting in front of her on the desk Carmella opened her phone book and found the number for the detectives assigned to the Mafia case that related to her hotel. Then she sat down.

She
templed
her fingers in front of her face and narrowed her eyes. Then she smiled, cat-like. “Let’s take our time, shall we? What is your name?”

The redhead sucked a deep breath in through her nose and pursed her lips. She also narrowed her eyes.

“I see.” Carmella reached into the bag and fished around for a wallet. She pulled out the black leather wallet and opened it up. “Fiona Lynsky.
Very good.”
Carmella wrote the name down on a piece of Miramontes stationery. “Fiona, I’m Carmella. This is my hotel. What are you doing here?”

Fiona’s mouth bobbed open like a fish for just a moment and then she clamped it shut.

“Fine.”
Carmella tipped the purse over and spilled its contents across the desk. “Let’s see what you have hiding in here.”

Mitzy had one question to answer now: Where was Fiona?

If Fiona was still in the hotel Mitzy needed to apprehend her. If Fiona was gone Mitzy needed to get to
Alice
’s house. Mitzy grabbed her phone again and called
Alice
. No answer. She texted “Don’t eat or drink anything. Leave your house. Go straight to the police station.” She hit send and prayed
Alice
would read it in time.

Mitzy wanted Alonzo, but she didn’t want to waste another minute on the phone. She folded her laptop shut and put it in her suitcase. Then she stepped out of her room as quietly as she could. The last she had seen, Fiona had been carted upstairs with the bridal party. Could she still be there? Mitzy climbed the stairs, two steps at a time.

At the top of the stairs she paused to listen. She didn’t want to start digging
the into
rooms of a private party. Sounds of chattering were coming from behind the door to what used to be the mansion’s nursery. Mitzy eased the door open and peeked in.

“Well
sor-ry
! I thought she was the make-up artist,” a young woman wearing a red velvet bathrobe said.

“That old hag?
Are you kidding me? Why on earth would I have hired her?” an athletic-looking blonde with a tired face said. She was sitting in front of the mirror.

“Then where is this great lady you hired?” another girl said. She had a pink plastic box with a handle on it sitting in front of her. She pouted at the mirror, her eyes bloodshot.

“You are the maid of honor, Les,” the blonde said. “You can’t do the make-up too.” The blonde pulled a brush through her long hair. “Let’s just get through this morning’s pictures. We’ll all be fine tomorrow.”

“Bridezilla,” someone in the room muttered.

Mitzy glanced at each young woman in the room. She didn’t see Fiona anywhere, but it sounded like she had been in with them.

“Good morning girls,” Mitzy stepped into the room.

The blond raised her eyebrow at Mitzy

“I’m looking for someone, a short, older lady, with lots of red hair.”

“She left a few minutes ago.” The blonde, who appeared to be the bride, said.

“Did she? Oh bother. Did she say where she was going?”

A few of the girls shook their heads. A few others rolled their eyes.

“Okay then, thanks though.” Mitzy let the door swing shut. Was Fiona already on her way to
Alice
’s house?

Carmella shifted the contents of Fiona’s purse into little piles on the desk. “Quite a lot of stuff in here, I see.” She was looking for spare jewelry or watches, things that could have easily been lifted from the guest rooms. With the young bridal party running in and out of each other’s rooms and back to their party room all day and night she was sure they hadn’t been locking things up safely.

There was only one wallet in the purse but she had quite a little pile of key chains. Perhaps those belonged to the guests of the inn. She lifted one set up and danged it in front of Fiona.

“Work keys,” Fiona said.

Carmella kept fishing. She stacked a few pieces of a broken dish to one side. Could that have been from the inn? She looked from the stack to Fiona. The color drained from Fiona’s cheeks.

Fiona had quite a few electronics in her purse. Carmella smiled. Now she had her. No one wandered around with a Kindle, an iPad, a Blackberry, an mp3 player and an old school electronic organizer. “Should I call the guests and let them collect their gadgets?” Carmella asked.

Fiona bit her lip.

Carmella scooted more papers aside revealing a small unmarked bottle and another set of keys. She picked up the bottle, “Can’t take that on the airplane with you,” she said. Fiona looked scared, and Carmella was enjoying the moment of power. She was stalling while she tried to decide what to do. She wasn’t sure if stealing electronics from guests was really what the FBI wanted to hear about.

Carmella lifted the phone and held it to her ear. She tried to remember the conversation she had had with the FBI agents last spring in detail…she was to report guests not paying, people sneaking around, people driving up and meeting to exchange things in the parking lot. Any act of violence. This woman had been sneaking around. That was a reportable offense. With another loaded smile for Fiona, she dialed the extension for Detectives Backman and Collins of the FBI.

Mitzy needed to get to
Alice
. She drove as fast as she could but there was a bridge lift on the
Steel
Bridge
crossing the
Willamette
River
. She stared ahead of her at the sign that said, “Idling will get you nowhere. Please turn your engines off.” She turned her ignition key. She only hoped Fiona was as stuck as she was.

She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and considered trying to call
Alice
again. Did using a cell phone while your car was stopped at a bridge lift count as talking on a cell while driving? Mitzy couldn’t decide but it wasn’t worth getting a ticket. She didn’t want any more delays. She needed to get across town to
Alice
’s as fast as she could. She hoped that
Alice
had checked her messages in the meantime.

If she could get to
Alice
before Fiona did and if the police showed up quickly, everyone would be safe. She glanced at the coffee mug in its zip lock bag on the seat next to her. An idea was brewing. She would give the mug to the police as they arrested Fiona. Fiona would be shocked to see Mitzy alive and shocked to see the mug. Mitzy felt a smile steal across her face despite her fears. Justice could be so sweet.

The mug looked so clean. Mitzy shivered. Whatever poison was in there was completely invisible. She would never have known it was dangerous. She swallowed. Life was so precarious.

The cars in front of her were still waiting for the bridge to go back down. Every second that passed felt like an eternity. She was so glad she had married Alonzo. If this had been it…if Fiona managed to…to…she couldn’t say the word. If Fiona won at least she had married the love of her life. She reached for her cell phone. She wanted to call her mom so bad, to tell her parents she was married. She looked in her rear view mirror. A cop car was just a few cars back. She left the phone on the seat next to her. If only Lara had had a chance to get her life in order. An overwhelming sense of gratitude flooded Mitzy. She would make it in time. She knew it.

Traffic began to move and Mitzy moved along with it. She checked her mirror again. The cop was closer. Her whole heart hoped it was the car the police had dispatched to
Alice
’s house.

“What is this?” Carmella put down the bottle and picked up a keychain. She dangled it by a purple plastic key fob. “That says Neuhaus New Homes. These are Mitzy’s keys!” She jingled them at Fiona.

Fiona closed her eyes and turned her face away.

“I hope you realize I’m not just calling the police. I’m calling the FBI. You are in serious trouble.”

With a maddeningly casual slowness, Fiona stood up. She brushed her hands on her skirt, and walked to the door of the office. She rested one hand on the doorknob. As she turned it she smiled a wan smile at Carmella.

Carmella’s phone was tied to the wall with a cord.

Fiona walked out the door.

Carmella listened to the sound of her feet as she ran through the foyer and out the door.

Carmella still had the bag. She waited until the Feds answered the phone and made her report.

Mitzy parked Alonzo’s huge truck in
Alice
’s driveway. She dropped out of the lifted truck and ran to the front door. She pressed the doorbell over and over again, hoping she wasn’t too late. She turned at the sound of a car behind her.

A redheaded woman sat behind the wheel of an older Mercedes. Fiona.

Mitzy tried the knob of
Alice
’s door but it was locked. The car moved. It backed out of the driveway, pulled away a little, and then pulled back in, right behind the truck. Mitzy’s vehicle was trapped.

She rattled the doorknob one more time but there was no luck. It was locked. She took a quick jump off the front step and ran around to the side of the house. She tried a low window but it was shut. She banged on it with her fist.

“
Alice
!
Alice
,” she called out. She could see the designer sitting at her sewing machine wearing a headset.

Alice
didn’t look up.