Better Off Thread, page 21
On to John and Carrie. Given what I’d seen of John Martin, I could easily imagine him stabbing someone in the chest. But other than wanting his fiancée to have Ms. Vincent’s job, I couldn’t see any real motive in his murdering Ms. Vincent. She couldn’t sway the board to hire Martin Brothers Construction for upcoming projects, especially if the company had already alienated Bellamy Carstairs.
As for Carrie, I couldn’t see her killing Sandra Vincent to take over her job, either. Yes, she had intimate knowledge of the hospital and could likely make a quick getaway from the crime scene. But someone would surely have noticed if she was two floors away from her typical post and covered in blood. And what excuse would she have given for taking a knife from the kitchen? Admittedly, although Doug had reported that the murder weapon had been identical to the knives used in the hospital’s kitchen, I didn’t know that anyone had yet established that it had, in fact, been taken from there. I supposed I could call up detectives Ray and Bailey to ask, but I doubted they’d be happy to hear from me.
But back to Carrie Monahan. Was there a way she could have legitimately wound up with a knife from the hospital’s kitchen? Oh, hi. I’m Carrie. I’m the head pediatric nurse. I’m going to borrow this butcher knife to cut up a birthday cake.
Here’s a spatula! Wouldn’t that be better?
No, thanks. I don’t think a spatula would do this job.
Pretty suspicious.
My eyes fell on the name Charlie Emerson. Charlie could go anywhere in the hospital without anyone questioning him. He could’ve been in the kitchen, picked up a knife, and hidden it. Plus, Charlie seemed innocuous. Had someone noticed him in the kitchen, he or she would’ve probably thought, There’s Charlie getting some lunch.
His mother had died recently. Like the families of many of the people on the organ-transplant waiting list, he felt that Sandra Vincent was responsible for manipulating that list. It was possible—even probable—that he thought Ms. Vincent was at least in part culpable in his mother’s death.
He had a major crush on Carrie Monahan, and he thought she cared about him, too. Given his feelings for both women, was it possible he had stabbed Sandra hoping to both avenge his mother’s death and provide a dream job to the woman he loved?
And he had that duffel bag with him today. . . . Wait. The duffel. A change of clothes.
I took out my phone and called Riley. My call went to voice mail, but I left her a message.
“Hi, Riley. It’s Marcy. I’ve been mulling over this case, and I really think you should look a little closer at the security guard, Charlie Emerson. He had means, motive, and opportunity. I know that given Charlie’s aw-shucks demeanor, it’s a hard sell, but just question him again and see what you can learn. Plus, he was in here today with a duffel bag, which means he could’ve killed Sandra and changed out of the bloody clothes before anyone saw him. I just have a gut feeling about him.”
As I ended the call, I heard a car pull into the driveway and Angus start barking.
Thank goodness. Ted was here. I could go over my theory with him and see if he thought I was totally wacko.
I put my phone and the laptop on the coffee table and hurried to the front door. I flung it open only to see Charlie Emerson standing on the porch.
I felt my eyes widen in alarm.
“Did I scare you?” he asked.
“N-no. No! You just surprised me, that’s all. I was expecting my boyfriend, Ted. He’s supposed to be here any second. He’s a detective, you know, and he was in a meeting, but he’s on his way now.”
“Then let’s you and me take a ride.”
“No, thanks. Let’s wait for Ted.” I didn’t even ask where the man wanted to go. I had a feeling I already knew enough.
“This can’t wait. It’s something we need to do right away.”
“What is it?” I could literally feel my heartbeat pulsing at the base of my throat.
“We need to talk with Carrie.”
“All right. We’ll call her.”
“We’re going to talk with her now.” He reached out and grasped my shoulders. “Please don’t make me hurt you. You’re small, and it wouldn’t take much.”
I thoroughly resented that remark even while I recognized the validity of it. Still, I kicked at him, and he plucked me off the ground. He took my wrists in one hand and took my ankles in the other while he bent and flung me over his shoulder. I screamed and thrashed, but it didn’t do me any good. I hadn’t fully realized what a bear of a man Charlie was. “If you don’t shut up, I’m going to knock you out. I can’t have you screaming while I’m carrying you outside. Now I’m going to set you back down and pull out my gun. If you make a sound, I’ll knock you out with the butt of the pistol. Got it?”
I stilled. Then I nodded. I couldn’t think if I was knocked out. I needed to remain conscious.
Poor Angus was barking and jumping against the fence. How I wish I’d have let him back inside before answering the door. But would it have mattered? Would Charlie have simply killed us both?
He sat me down, letting me go and pulling a gun out of the waistband of his jeans as he did so. I hadn’t realized tears were streaming down my face until he told me not to cry. He reached out a thumb and wiped a tear from my cheek.
“I’m not going to hurt you unless I have to.” His voice was bizarrely gentle.
“All right. I’ll do whatever you want me to.”
“Good. Now let’s go see Carrie.”
I nodded. I knew I could’ve kept trying to stall or dissuade him from going to Carrie Monahan’s home or to the hospital or to wherever she was, but I didn’t want Ted to come into my house unaware of what was going on and get shot. I’d take my chances with Charlie.
With a firm grip on my elbow and the constant reminder of the gun at my side, Charlie walked me outside to his car. It was an older-model sports car. Orange. I wouldn’t have taken Charlie for an orange-sports-car kinda guy.
He opened the passenger’s-side door of the car and told me to scoot over to the driver’s seat. “I can’t have you doing anything stupid. You can drive a straight, can’t you?”
“Sure.” I slid over to the driver’s seat.
Charlie folded into the passenger’s seat. “Do what I tell you, and you’ll come out of this fine.”
“Okay. I will.”
He instructed me to start the engine, back out of the driveway, and take a left.
“Are we going to the hospital to see Carrie?” I asked.
“No. We’re going to her house.”
“Have you ever been to her house?”
“Once. I went by there and helped her move some furniture one day. Why?”
“I just wondered. How did you know where I lived?”
“I looked it up. I’m not an imbecile, you know.”
“Of course I know. Who said you were?”
“Sandra Vincent.”
My blood got a little bit colder. “W-when? When did she call you that?”
“The first time I asked her to leave the hospital and take a job somewhere else. Watch where you’re going.”
“I-I am.” I gripped the steering wheel.
“I don’t want you to wreck us before we get to Carrie’s house. This is important.”
“Y-yeah. I know. Tell me more about Ms. Vincent. When did you ask her to leave?”
“Not long after Mom died. I told Ms. Vincent that she was smart and had a good background. She could go anywhere she wanted to get a job.”
“Is that when she called you an imbecile?”
“Yeah. She said, You imbecile! I’ve worked my way from the bottom to the top at this lousy hospital, and I’m not going anywhere!”
“Why did you want her to leave?” I asked.
“I never thought she handled the organ-transplant list the way she should. And then I got to know Carrie, and I realized how much better Carrie would be for the job. Carrie cares about people. Ms. Vincent only cared about herself.”
“I can imagine how mad it must’ve made you when Ms. Vincent insulted you like that.”
“Yeah, it made me mad. That’s why when I went to talk with her that Sunday, I took the knife with me. I thought if I scared her, she’d be sorry for calling me names and that she’d leave like I wanted her to.”
“But it got out of hand,” I suggested.
“Uh-huh. She laughed at me. The knife didn’t scare her at all.”
“She must’ve been crazy.”
“She was!” His voice was filled with incredulity at her laughter even now. “I couldn’t believe it. How could she just stand there laughing and telling me that I was not only going to be fired but that I’d spend the rest of my good years in prison while I was standing there holding a huge knife?”
“Well, I met the woman only once, but she must’ve been certifiably insane. I’m a reasonable person. I’m not arguing with you or laughing at you.”
“Thank you, Marcy!” He sounded genuinely relieved. “If she hadn’t been so stupid, I wouldn’t have stabbed her. It was like I went into a rage.”
“I can see it,” I said. I would’ve told Charlie anything I had to in order to make him believe I was on his side at that moment. And what I’d said about Ms. Vincent must’ve been true. She had to have been insane to laugh at a man who was threatening her with a knife . . . this man especially. “Being underestimated sucks.”
“It does, Marcy. It sure does. At first it was like I didn’t even realize what I was doing, you know? And then I was like, What have I done? I had blood on me, and there was Ms. Vincent, bleeding out in that sleigh.”
“Christmas is probably ruined for you forever.”
“I don’t know that I’d go that far,” he said.
“Oh. Good.” How long could I play Thelma to his Louise? Bonnie to his Clyde? Here we were, two buddies driving to our doom.
“But I sprang into action. First I wiped all the fingerprints off that knife. Then I used the service elevator and went back to the locker room to change into a spare uniform. I put the bloody uniform in my duffel until my shift was over. Then I put it into a trash bag and put it in the infectious waste incinerator. And, last but not least, I ran back upstairs just in time to hear that Santa guy calling for help. Now, tell me: could an imbecile have done all that?”
“No indeed. You were thinking on your feet, all right. I doubt I’d have been able to keep my wits about me like that.”
“Well, I am trained law enforcement.”
“True,” I said. “Does Carrie know we’re coming?”
“Nope. It’s going to be a surprise.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
The longer I drove, the farther away from civilization we got. I’d been driving for only about twenty minutes, but it seemed like forever. And I was unfamiliar with where we were. Was going to Carrie Monahan’s house a ruse? Was he taking me out into the woods to kill me?
“So, why are we going to Carrie’s house? If you said, it’s slipped my mind. The gun is making me nervous.”
“I spoke with Carrie after she got off work today. I called her and told her about John coming in and scaring you like he did. She said she was going to stop by and see you.”
“She did. And I told her I didn’t want John Martin anywhere near me.”
“Didn’t you also tell her that you thought I’d misunderstood our friendship?”
I glanced at his face and then at the gun. My mind raced. To lie or not to lie? Had Carrie called Charlie after seeing me and told him what I’d said? Had she rebuffed him? Maybe a distraction was in order. “Charlie, I certainly think you’re the better man for Carrie.” Yeah, sure, you killed Sandra Vincent. So what? We all have our little faults. “I told her I thought you liked her—as in liked her—you know, in case she didn’t realize it. Maybe she thought John was her only option.”
“I figured you were trying to help. That’s why we’re going to see her. You can convince her that I’m the right guy for her—not John Martin.”
I nodded. “So, she called you after she stopped by my shop?”
“Yeah. She told me I was making it obvious to everybody that I had a crush on her. A crush! What I feel for her is much more than a crush! She made me sound like some love-struck teenager.”
I didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t make matters worse. After all, he was still pointing a gun at my head. And I liked my head. I’d have looked totally weird without it.
“Stop looking so nervous, Marcy. Everything will be okay.”
“You promise?”
“Yeah. I promise.” He pointed. “See that gravel road up there to your right? Turn onto it.”
“O-okay.” I didn’t see a house in the distance, just trees. Was this where he was planning to kill me? I was debating whether to plead for my life or try to swerve the car to throw Charlie off balance when I turned onto the gravel road and saw a small ranch-style house up ahead.
“Carrie lives here?” I asked.
“Yep, she grew up here. Her parents gave her the place when they retired and moved to California.”
“Isn’t she afraid living out here alone? It’s so remote.”
“That was my concern, too, but she says she’s used to it. Likes it here. Says it’s peaceful.”
At the moment, I felt it was anything but peaceful. I kept my opinion to myself.
There were two cars in the driveway: a small blue sedan and a brown pickup truck. I was guessing one of the vehicles belonged to John Martin. I pulled up behind the sedan.
“Put it in park and turn the engine off,” Charlie said.
I did as I was told.
Charlie leaned forward and squinted at Carrie’s living-room window. I could see what he was staring at. Carrie and John were playfully wrestling and kissing. I could tell they were playing because both were laughing. Apparently, Charlie saw an entirely different scenario.
“He’s attacking her! I’ll kill him!” he growled, throwing open the passenger’s-side door.
Forgotten for the moment, I threw open the driver’s- side door and ran as Charlie bounded up the steps to the log home. Too bad for me, there was nowhere to go. No neighbors, no convenience stores, no passing motorists to flag down.
Charlie had left the keys in the car, and I could’ve simply taken off in it. But I didn’t feel right simply leaving Carrie and John without trying to defuse the situation somehow if I could.
Charlie crashed through Carrie’s front door, and I scurried around to the back of the house. Maybe the back door was unlocked or there was a window I could get through and find a phone to call for help.
I heard yelling and screaming and then a gunshot. I froze. I was panting heavily and my heart was thudding against the wall of my chest. I heard only the single gunshot. Charlie couldn’t have killed both of them with one shot. Or maybe John or Carrie had shot Charlie. Should I still try to get inside the house?
I crept closer to the back door. I could hear Carrie. She was sobbing and pleading. I had to get inside.
I reached out and turned the knob. Thank goodness, the door wasn’t locked. I opened it slightly, peering inside. The door opened into the kitchen. I watched for a second to make sure no one was in the kitchen and that nothing indicated that anyone was heading my way. I widened the opening just enough to ease inside, and then I shut the door behind me.
I eased along the wall to the hallway, where I could see into the living room. Carrie was on her knees by John’s side; he’d been shot in the torso and his shirt was soaked with blood. Getting help for John immediately was crucial to his survival. I glanced to my right and saw a bedroom. Hopefully, Carrie had a phone in there.
I slipped across the hall and into the room. I breathed a prayer of thanksgiving when I spotted the phone on the nightstand. I called 911 and whispered a plea for help.
Unfortunately, I somehow gave myself away.
“Who’s there?” Charlie shouted. “Marcy, is that you?”
I didn’t disconnect the call but dropped the phone behind the nightstand. The bed sat directly on the floor, so I couldn’t hide underneath. I crouched behind the chest of drawers.
Charlie burst into the bedroom. “Where are you? Come out here.” He moved into the bedroom. He spotted the phone and went to pick it up.
I eased past him and sprinted into the living room. I grabbed Carrie by the arm. “Come on!”
“No! I can’t leave him!”
I heard Charlie telling the 911 operator that his little girl had called as a joke and that he was very sorry for the misunderstanding.
“She’s . . . right,” said John. “Go. It’s our . . . only chance.”
“We’ll get help,” I assured John. I looked at Carrie. “Now!”
She rose, and we raced out the door.
“Stop!” Charlie shouted. “Come back this instant, or I’ll finish him off!”
This made Carrie falter, but I spurred her on. “He’s lying.” I didn’t know whether or not Charlie was lying, but I knew I needed to get Carrie out of that house before she wound up being his next victim.
I slid behind the driver’s seat of Charlie’s sports car. As Carrie took one last look at the house, Charlie appeared in the doorway and raised his gun. She dove into the car and shut the door.
