Lethal Dose of Love Page 29

  “Aden! Watch out!” She flinched back in the chair. It went off balance and tipped over. The scream that ensued probably woke the rest of the neighborhood.

  When she came to, both Aden and Vaughn hovered over her, Aden’s mouth in a straight line, Vaughn smiling. “So, you thought I was the bad guy, huh?” He tilted his head and pursed his lips. “If I wasn’t so worried, I might be insulted.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He patted her thigh. She peered over his shoulder. “Aden, something’s wrong. Tell me what it is.”

  Aden finished fastening another towel around the back of her neck, then said, “Sorry honey. He got away.”

  “What!” She tried to sit up but fell back in pain. “How?”

  “He probably skirted the shadows behind the properties,” Vaughn said.

  “It’s not a he, it’s a she,” Payton said.

  “What?” both men exclaimed at the same time.

  The wail of an ambulance stopped further questions.

  FORTY-FIVE

  Aden brought Payton home from the hospital just after 4 a.m. She’d insisted on returning home even though doctors wanted to keep her overnight. She lay on the love seat in the living room, pillows bundled under her head, a patchwork quilt someone had brought from the guest bedroom tucked tight. She could barely keep her eyes open. Whatever they gave her made her dopey as hell, but at least it eased the pain.

  Three tired looking people sat in a semi-circle around her: Vaughn, Aden and Sergeant Espinoza. The sergeant was the only one who looked alert. He held the customary notebook in his lap, and a pen in his right hand.

  “Why aren’t you out looking for her?” Aden asked, aiming a glare at both Espinoza and Vaughn.

  The sergeant scowled over a pair of half glasses Payton hadn’t seen before. “I have a dozen men on it. She won’t get away.”

  “She already got away. I want to know—”

  “Calm down, Mr. Green. Overreacting won’t get us anywhere.”

  “Overreacting? You people hounded me when—”

  “Aden.” Even though Payton could speak in little more than a whisper, the men stopped arguing. “Let them do their jobs.”

  “She’s right,” Vaughn stood. “I’ll get out there and help.”

  “Is there anywhere else you can think of that she might go?” Espinoza asked.

  “Outside of the places I told you, no,” Payton said.

  “So, you agree that this attack is related to Sean’s murder?” Aden asked.

  Espinoza nodded. “Since Ms. Winters took it upon herself to become, shall we say, a target, yes, I’d say the two situations are related.” Espinoza stood and flipped the notebook shut. When he didn’t slip it into the usual pocket, Payton realized it was because he didn’t have a pocket. He was wearing pajamas, white with wide brown stripes that made him look like a clown. “I hate to think what might have happened here. Maybe this will teach you a lesson.”

  “Sergeant…” This from Aden.

  Espinoza sighed. “I’m through here for now. I’ll be back in the,” he gave an exhausted glance out the window where the first signs of dawn were creeping over the houses, “morning. Take care.”

  Aden walked him and Vaughn to the door. Vaughn threw a wave over his shoulder. Did he also glare at Aden? Payton didn’t want to think about male rivalry right now.

  She caught the end of something Espinoza said, “…two men watching the house.”

  “Four,” Aden and Vaughn said in unison.

  * * * *

  The scent of rosemary washed over her along with the heat of her attacker’s breath. The golden cat slashed downward. Familiar eyes gazed into hers for one second before the pain hit. Payton came awake with a start. She was still on the couch; cold because the quilt had fallen on the floor. Thank goodness she hadn’t knocked Maggie off also. The little white kitten, curled in the fetal position, purred noisily near her waist. Payton was thirsty and tried to sit up but the shoulder brace hindered any movement.

  She almost called for Aden. Where was he anyway? She blinked away the nightmare. The sun shone between the blinds. The length of the shadows said it was late. She should get up and open the shop.

  The pain meds had worn off. Every inch of her screamed for relief. And coffee. Even so, Payton lay back down, picked up the quilt and pulled it over her. During the assault, she thought she’d been defending herself against a man who wanted to rob, and most likely rape her; a man who wanted to laud his power and strength over a weaker being. The fact that the assailant was a woman changed the complexion of the situation. Or maybe the situation changed when Payton’s suspicions about the woman’s identity became reality.

  How foolish she’d been not to keep her suspicions to herself. She’d practically begged for this beating, from a person with the most amazing stamina Payton had ever seen. Adrenaline was an awesome thing. Hospital personnel had reinserted her arm in its socket and X-rayed her throat. No permanent damage—except to her psyche. Just another thing to make her stronger. Every time Payton had cried to her grandmother over something that had happened, Grandma had said, “All things happen to make us stronger, little one.” And so, Payton had gone through life, stronger after each confrontation. More powerful than a locomotive. Able to leap tall…

  Until Cameron’s death. Then her whole building of bricks tumbled down on top of her. She sighed.

  It didn’t matter right now that Lake Ontario and her attacker had different motives. In less than two weeks, Payton had faced her own mortality twice. Both times she’d won. She couldn’t help wondering if her luck was wearing a bit thin.

  * * * *

  “Find her yet?” Aden asked.

  The sound of his voice made her turn from where she sat at the dining room table. The meds were working. She’d gotten some sleep. Aden put a Gallery Closed sign on the door, but the house hadn’t been the slightest bit quiet. All day, an army of forensic people tromped up and down the stairs.

  Vaughn entered the front door and sat across the table. To his, “You okay,” she nodded. Then he said, “I found bloody footprints on the sidewalk. Followed them until they petered out at the intersection of Main and Broad. From the amount of blood in your room, I don’t imagine she could get too far. Don’t worry, we’ll find her.”

  Payton shivered at the thought of what her precious bedroom must look like. Aden set a glass of ice water beside the one he’d brought moments ago. Her hero. Make sure Vaughn knows who’s in charge.

  She snapped her fingers near the floor and made squeaking noises.

  “Shh,” Aden said and handed her a notepad and pen. “You know they told you not to talk. Write what you want and I’ll get it for you.”

  Cat, Payton wrote.

  “Cat?” His brow wrinkled.

  “They’re fuzzy, say meow and use a litter box,” said Vaughn.

  The sarcasm didn’t make Aden smile, but it did Payton.

  “She’s got a kitten now,” said Vaughn, inserting his bit toward male domination. “It’s white with blue eyes. And its name is Maggie.”

  Aden scowled but went in search of the small feline. That’s when Payton realized the sliders were open. She wrote outdoors? on the notepad. Vaughn too, set out in search of the white ball of fluff. She rose and shuffled back to the sofa. When she awoke the quilt was bunched against her chin. And a small white kitten purred under her chin.

  Payton sat up and stretched anything that didn’t ache; which wasn’t much. Maggie meowed. Payton ruffled the soft fur. The house was quiet and dark. How long had she slept? A sound, soft like paper against paper, came from the kitchen. Maggie stopped purring, her ears went back and her fur stood on end. Knowing she couldn’t jump down and be in the way, Payton set the kitten on the cushion and picked up a piece of bric-a-brac—one of Mamie’s favorite pieces—but it was heavy and comforting in her good hand. She hefted it overhead and tiptoed to the kitchen.

  She rounded the corner from the dining area, heart thumping like a b
ass drum. There he was, wearing that striped dressing gown and a wide smile. Aden put down the newspaper, stood up, took the statue and set it on the counter. He took her gingerly in his arms and held her. In this safe womb, she cried. And cried.

  Aden was the first to break the embrace. He eased Payton onto a stool and set about dipping something into a bowl from a pot on the stove. He put the bowl in the microwave and punched buttons. Moments later he placed a delectable smelling dish of potato and herb soup before her. “I used herbs from your garden.”

  She could get used to this.

  “A bunch of people stopped by to see you. News sure travels fast around here.”

  She wrote on the notepad. Gossip committee in action.

  Aden laughed. “So, where’d you get the cat?”

  Sylvie thought I needed a friend.

  There was a knock on the glass doors. First Aden helped Maggie off the couch and then he flicked on the outside light and opened the door to admit Carter. Aden launched himself in Carter’s face. “Where’s your wife?”

  Carter frowned but didn’t back up. “At her mother’s. She fell last night and broke her hip. Why?”

  “Where have you been?”

  “Dropping her off. She can’t see to drive at night. I repeat, why?”

  “What’s your mother-in-law’s phone number?”

  Carter’s frown deepened. Then he spun on a heel, slamming the sliding door.

  Aden chased after Carter.

  FORTY-SIX

  Payton woke on the sofa. She counted eight chimes of the grandmother clock against the hallway wall. The house was otherwise silent. Aden must’ve gone home. Payton set Maggie on the floor and went upstairs feeling stiff but not too bad.

  She didn’t want to go in her bedroom. Memories would gush like floodwaters, but that’s where the clothes were. She pushed open the door. The blood had been completely cleaned up. The bed was now covered in the colorful spread from the top shelf in the closet. The carpet had been scrubbed and everything shone with cleanliness. A pervading odor of copper permeated the air. Payton went to shower where she leaned against the tiles letting the hot jets beat her skin to a bright red.

  An hour later, dressed and ready—mostly—to face the world, Payton pulled open her front door. And nearly lost her coffee when both Aden and Vaughn stepped inside. “Where are you going?” they asked, conjoined twins today, instead of rivals.

  “I have a shop to open.”

  Aden took her elbow. “Come on.”

  They piled into Vaughn’s pickup, Payton in the middle. Vaughn jammed his foot to the floor. She almost smiled as the old-lady-driver turned into Mr. Cop. They took the turn at Main and Broad on what felt like two wheels. Where were they going?

  Her unspoken question got answered when they screeched to a stop near Tin Pan Galley. Across the street, flames flickered inside Sean’s café. Two fire trucks and a gaggle of onlookers were already there. Vaughn sprang from the vehicle. Aden laid his arm across the back of the seat. Payton settled back in the comfort of his embrace and as though they were at a drive-in movie, watched the firemen work. Once she started to ask something, but Aden shushed her.

  An hour later, the fire was out and cleanup began. Smoke billowed out and hung overhead, scenting the air and making eyes burn.

  “I wonder how it started,” she whispered.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I wonder if anyone’s inside.”

  “They won’t be able to check till things cool down. Now, stop talking or I’ll take you home.” A moment later he said, “I’d say it won’t be worth opening the shop today.”

  She nodded.

  “Want to take a walk?”

  She nodded again, feeling like the little bobbing dog in the back window of her grandfather’s T-bird. Aden helped her to the sidewalk.

  They walked up the hill, arm in arm, like two people out for a Sunday stroll. Two people without the worries of an arrest warrant, burning buildings and maniacal murderesses. They walked a long time, along the farthest end of Broad Street, past the school and wide-open field where the air smelled less like lake and more like green, and clean. After a while, they turned and went to Payton’s. She’d been worried they’d find it too in flames. But it stood strong with its fresh coat of pastel yellow atop brand new stucco. Every previous time she approached her house, she felt pride in what she’d accomplished. A woman alone can get things done, just like Grandma declared.

  Aden touched her arm. “Come on,” he said, tugging her off the sidewalk and across to his house.

  Payton held back. “Maggie.”

  The kitten waited at the door. Payton couldn’t help sniffing the air for fire. Nothing, not even the ubiquitous scent of blood. But something was not quite right.

  Aden picked up the kitten and headed out the door.

  “Wait.”

  She could see him mentally tapping an impatient foot as Payton tiptoed upstairs and pushed open the door of the guest room. There, on one of the twin beds, was the object of last night’s All Points Bulletin. Mamie was beyond being a danger. Blood, drying to the color of raw nutmeg, caked the side of her face where Payton stove it in with the bedroom lamp. Her stomach roiled at the sight of what she’d done. She stepped fearlessly into the room and dropped to her knees beside the bed. She put her hand on Mamie’s arm, tears rolling down her cheeks.

  Mamie’s eyes fluttered open. Payton saw recognition. Mamie opened her mouth. A trickle of blood oozed from the corner, ran down her jaw and onto one of the red squares on the blanket. She whispered something Payton couldn’t understand.

  “What?”

  Mamie opened her mouth again. Payton put her ear near Mamie’s lips. “Sorry,” came the soft words. “So sorry.”

  “Why?” Payton asked, but it was too late to list motives, to deliver explanations. Mamie gasped, shuddered and went limp. Whatever trials, troubles or worries had driven the woman to murder, were over.

  Payton laid her head on Mamie’s blood-encrusted sleeve and wept tears of sorrow and forgiveness.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  Payton leaned deep in the crook of Aden’s arm, the length of their naked bodies pressed together on his couch. Comfortable and secure. She laid her hand on his chest, palm flat, soaking up his strength. Last night, after the removal of Mamie’s body, the investigation was deemed complete. The motive had been listed as a “disagreement over a vacant store.”

  Just after the clock chimed midnight, she got the courage to ask him where he’d been for more than a week. He gave a small chuckle. “Scared out of my mind, that’s where. Payton, I’m forty-nine years old. Till now, I’ve managed, whether by choice or fate, to remain unencumbered by a serious relationship. Then you came along and changed it all. In a heartbeat, I found myself planning our future. I thought for sure I’d gone insane. I took some time off from my job and went to London. I thought you’d be able to reach me if you had an emergency. Believe me, I had no idea the phone didn’t work.” He stopped and took a breath. “To think of what you went through all alone. I’ll never forgive myself.”

  He’d carried her to the bedroom, then, and laid her on the cool, soft sheets. Then he crawled in beside her. They spent the rest of the night that way.

  When Aden’s clock proclaimed 7 a.m. she flew into a sitting position, bringing Aden wide awake. He sat up, running a hand through his hair. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just remembered something.”

  “Don’t talk,” he said.

  But she continued, this time in a whisper, “Sean’s aunt gave me a box.”

  Hearing her mistress’ voice, Maggie popped her head from under the blankets on Aden’s other side. He helped her to the floor and got out of bed.

  “I’ll get it. I need Maggie’s litter box too,” Payton whispered and began dressing. “Maybe there’s something that’ll help us figure out why Mamie murdered Sean. It wasn’t because he cheated her out of the store; I’m sure of it.” She sat on the bed to put on her shoes
.

  Aden slipped into his robe. “What first put you on to Mamie?”

  “Something people said kept rattling around in my brain. First, Amanda left my open house because Edward had work to do on the dock and they couldn’t leave the store unattended. Later Mamie said someone could’ve substituted the forged Commodore painting because Amanda and Edward ‘are always leaving the place unattended.’ Another time she told me she never goes to the marina, had never even been inside their shop. None of the statements are telling in themselves.”

  “But combined…”

  “That night I think she waited around for the docks to be empty, but everyone was there until quite late preparing their boats for the race.”

  “She must’ve overheard the argument between Sean and Edward.”

  Payton finished tying her shoes. “I’ll be right back.”

  “You’re not going alone. We’ll take Maggie so she can use her box.”

  Moments later, at her kitchen table, Payton dug into the box. Only four envelopes remained. The dates read September 1, 1996, April 10, 2003, June 4, 2004, and June 8, 2004. The two June dates had to be related to Payton, and she left them for the time being.

  Recalling that Donald had died ten years previously, Payton selected one dated 1996 and opened it, saying a short prayer that it would contain a motive, a sort of closure for the whole dreadful event. Aden read over her shoulder, digging his chin in the spot at the corner of her neck. It hurt, but she didn’t ask him to stop. The envelope was thicker than the others. It contained several sheets of handwritten notes and two invoices. The invoices were copies of ones she’d found in other envelopes. With a sinking heart, she unfolded the pages of notes. Suddenly Payton knew what had happened. And she knew why Mamie had felt it so necessary to murder Sean Adams.

  Payton pieced things together for Aden. “Sean always looked for ways to make an easy buck. Donald had been dead about a year. Mamie was just coming out of her grief. Claire talked her into following her dream of opening an art gallery, but Donald had left her broke and she had no way to come up with the money. Sean probably heard them talking. Whatever. That part doesn’t matter. He got the bright idea to give her the money in exchange for one copy of a painting he had.”