Sour Crime Donuts, page 21
“For cause,” Olivia repeated. “Like maybe serving almonds although he agreed not to. Or am I jumping to conclusions?”
Still watching the taillights far ahead, I said, “Maybe, but I want to jump to that one, too.”
Jocelyn flipped to another page. “Me, too. A non-competition agreement is stapled to the termination letter. Glenn promised not to open a new restaurant in the next ten years—ten years!—within fifty miles of any of the restaurants owned by Wilson Family. And here’s a handwritten note stuck to the non-competition agreement. Same writing as before, I’m guessing. And it’s a huge clue about who owned this restaurant.” Jocelyn cleared her voice and read aloud in a stern and booming voice, “ ‘It doesn’t say I can’t open a restaurant within fifty miles of land he’s contemplating buying.’ Again, that sounds like Glenn could have been referring to Adam Nofftry.”
I agreed. “And I bet that Brent and Vic have been plowing through Adam’s business records and trying to find something like this. They probably know about the Wilson Family connection, but drilling down through all of the correspondence of all of the conglomerate’s subsidiaries could take months. Someone in the DCI is probably working on that. Meanwhile, either Landon collected these documents, or these are Glenn’s records. If Glenn wrote that comment about snitching, and if the person who wasn’t there and therefore supposedly was not affected was Adam Nofftry, there’s a possible motive for Glenn to have killed Adam—revenge for being fired after Glenn sold his own successful restaurant to manage one of Adam’s. And it sounds like whoever bought Glenn’s Hot Pepper restaurant ended up closing it. That might have made Glenn angrier about all of it.”
Jocelyn straightened the sheaf of papers. “Fired two years ago. How has he been making a living since then?”
“A girlfriend,” I guessed. “Probably Izzy’s cousin Hope. Tonight she claimed that she would accept Glenn’s proposal of marriage if he threw the right sort of party for her.”
Olivia made a disgusted sound. “I would never do that.”
I told her, “You’re a better catch than Hope.”
Olivia breathed out a loud and phony sigh. “Not financially.”
I stated firmly, “In every other way. And Tyler’s a better catch than a chef who would date a bully like Hope.”
Jocelyn added, “He is.”
Olivia sighed. “Would you two stop? It was only a walk. One.” Again, I heard a smile in her voice.
“And it was only a quarter moon,” I joked. “When’s the next full moon?”
Olivia laughed. “I don’t know.”
I predicted, “Tyler will. And he’ll ask you out to gaze at it.” Then I reminded myself what dating—or marrying—a police officer was like. “If he’s not working.”
Jocelyn tapped at the portfolio. The leather made a hollow sound. “Back to important business. If our theories are correct, Glenn had to know there was a reason why he wasn’t allowed to serve almonds or almond products in the restaurant he managed. And even if he didn’t know for sure that Adam was allergic to them, he could have guessed. Then Glenn bided his time until he could feed almonds to Adam.”
Olivia asked, “But how? Force him to eat donuts containing almonds? Adam must have known not to accept food from someone who held a grudge against him and who also knew or might have guessed that Adam was allergic to almonds.”
I told them, “Adam didn’t seem to have one of those autoinjector thingies with him. Maybe he thought he did and took a risk.”
Olivia sat back. “People do things like that.”
I hazarded another guess. “Or Glenn took it from him.” I told them about finding an autoinjector in a creek several miles from the murder site.
Jocelyn turned another page and held up a finger. “Wow, here’s something I didn’t expect to find, a marriage certificate. Glenn and Izzy’s cousin Hope are married. To each other.”
I couldn’t help turning my head sharply toward her. “When did that happen, Jocelyn?”
“Two months ago.” She paged through more documents. “And they lost no time signing wills and making each other their beneficiaries. Here are the wills.”
I said dryly, “That would have been about the time that Izzy and Hope’s grandfather gave Izzy funds to invest. According to Hope, the grandfather gave money to both Izzy and Hope, and the grandfather will judge how well they use it before he decides how much each of them should inherit. This evening Glenn acted like he didn’t know that Hope was a potential heir. Hope didn’t dispute that. She said that she wouldn’t be one if Landon convinced the grandfather to choose Izzy. I’m sure Glenn knew that Hope could inherit a lot, if only from her father, who also works for the grandfather.”
Jocelyn snorted. “Of course he did. Does Glenn have an alibi for last Sunday?”
I bit my lips and then tried to relax my too-grim expression. “Not a great one. Hope and Glenn said they were together in my house on Maple Street during that afternoon and evening. Maybe I can check that.”
Jocelyn asked, “How? Do you have spy cameras in and on the house?”
“Nothing so fancy. Brent and I installed keyless entry locks on our doors. We can program different codes for different people. Glenn and Hope have only one code that they must be sharing. I’m going to pull off onto the shoulder. My phone will tell me when they unlocked the front door last Sunday.” I quickly checked the lock’s audit trail. “Aha. Someone unlocked the house from the outside shortly after Landon and Hope left Deputy Donut with Landon’s box of donuts. A couple of hours later, the door was unlocked from the inside and locked itself. And then someone came in about an hour after Izzy found Adam’s body.” I put my phone away and pulled out onto the highway. “It’s not conclusive, and I probably didn’t need to risk losing track of Landon by checking. Brent has probably already done that and discovered that Glenn’s and Hope’s alibis could be false.”
Jocelyn pointed ahead. “I’ve been watching, and I think Landon’s way up there, turning onto County Road H.”
I told my car to phone Izzy.
She answered.
I quickly told her, “Izzy, I’m afraid that three men in three cars might be following you—Glenn, the mayor, and Landon.”
“I saw them. I might have lost the first two, but one car is coming up fast behind me. I’m driving as fast as I dare.”
I asked, “Could it be Landon?
“Maybe.” Her voice was small. Of course she was remembering the disappointing ending to the dinner party and Landon’s betrayal.
“We’re not too far behind him.”
“Thank you. Oh! What does he think he’s—” From the speaker in my car, we heard a horn blaring and tires squealing. Izzy screamed, her voice high with terror. A series of thumps and bangs ended in sudden silence, as if Izzy’s phone had been turned off.
Or had been smashed.
Chapter 32
All three of us in my car gasped and called Izzy’s name. My natural reflex was to hit the brakes even though no obvious danger was directly ahead of us. I fought the impulse and floored the gas pedal.
Jocelyn shoved the portfolio and papers off her lap onto the floor near her feet. “I’m calling emergency.”
Olivia shouted, almost calmly. “I already am. You help Emily watch the road.” In a businesslike voice, she said, “A car crash. Probably on County Road H not too far west of County Road C.”
We were quickly approaching the intersection with H, and I had to slow down. A vehicle hurtled south on C toward us.
“Go!” Jocelyn whispered.
I couldn’t risk it. I had to slam on the brakes and wait long seconds. A heavy truck roared past, and then I turned, my tires squealing, onto H.
Woods crowded the road. We climbed a hill, rounded a curve and then another one.
The woods receded, and I drove between abandoned fields pocked with boulders and scraggly cedars. Far ahead, red lights flashed.
Several yards beyond the dirt lane that Landon had swerved onto after we first encountered him, a dark sedan was parked crookedly, its front angled slightly toward the ditch and its hazard lights blinking, on the road’s shoulder. The part of the car we could see appeared undamaged. With a hint of optimism, Jocelyn asked, “Is that Izzy’s car?”
I slowed. “It looks too big.” Frightened, my movements robotlike, I pulled onto the shoulder several car lengths behind the dark sedan. My headlights lit its rear license plate. Probably Minnesota. And the car was gray. “I’m sure it’s Landon’s.” My voice sounded dead. We had allowed Landon to get far enough ahead of us to—what?
Beside me, Jocelyn peered out her side window. “A car’s in the ditch. It’s right side up, but dented and smashed, like it rolled. I think it’s Izzy’s. A man is prowling around it with a flashlight.”
She reached for her door.
I cautioned, “Don’t open it.”
Jocelyn put her hands in her lap. “I won’t. He’s coming this way. Are all the doors and windows locked?”
“Yes,” I said.
Olivia was relaying everything to the emergency dispatcher.
His hair unkempt and his eyes wild, Landon arrived at the top of the embankment. He shouted something about Izzy and 911 and then took off running toward his rental car. He leaped into it and sped west.
All three of us unlocked our doors and clambered out. Olivia continued telling the 911 operator what we were doing. Shouting Izzy’s name, Jocelyn and I used our phones’ lights to help all of us negotiate the steep slope. Weirdly distorted shadows gyrated as we slipped and slid among dusty grasses and wildflowers, many of them bent and broken. The straps of my sandals bit into my feet. Grit lodged between my toes.
Izzy didn’t answer. Her driver’s door was open. Her windshield had become a zillion sparkling crystals that had flung themselves all over the ground and the car, as if trying to echo the stars in the cloudless, moonless sky above us. A front airbag had inflated but now hung from the steering wheel like an unwanted rag, and another airbag, also deflated, dangled from the inside of the driver’s door. No one was in any of the seats.
A silver ballet flat sporting a jaunty pom-pom that resembled a multi-petaled flower lay on the ground near that open door.
I told the others, “When Izzy ran away from Hope’s dinner party, she was wearing two shoes like that. Where’s the other one, and where’s she?” I raised my voice. “Izzy!”
No answer.
Jocelyn aimed her phone’s light on the side of the driver’s seat. “There’s blood, and the seat belt’s broken, but it’s a straight cut, as if someone slashed it with a machete.” The lid of the trunk was bashed in and open enough for us to peek inside. Empty, except for a half dozen plant pots.
I checked the slope between us and the road. A bumper, an entire fender, and bits of metal, plastic, and glass were scattered among weeds and loose gravel. We walked around the car in ever-widening circles. Olivia said it for all of us and to the dispatcher, “She does not seem to be near her car.”
Jocelyn shined her light into the weedy field stretching north from the road. “I didn’t understand what Landon yelled at us, but was it something like ‘kidnap’?”
I gazed up toward the road. Moths fluttered through the beam of my headlights. “He might have. Was he rushing off to search for her, or was she in his car, and he was rushing off to take her somewhere? A hospital, maybe. Or a place where no one would find her? Maybe we should have followed him.”
Jocelyn waved her light past Izzy’s wrecked car and shined it on the dirt lane. “If you two want to try to find him, I’ll stay here and search in case she’s lying injured nearby.” She must have seen the look on my face. She attempted to reassure me. “I’ll be safe. I’ll hide in the bushes if I hear anyone coming either on the road or up that farm lane.” She patted the front pocket of her black jeans. “And I have my phone.”
I asked Olivia, “What do you think?”
“We should probably try to find out where he went so we can tell”—she held up her phone—“them.”
I agreed. Avoiding the debris from Izzy’s car, Olivia and I scrambled up the bank to my car.
We shut ourselves inside. Olivia told the dispatcher that Jocelyn was staying behind. “And Emily and I are following the suspected kidnapper in Emily’s car.” Holding the phone away from her face, Olivia asked me, “How long will it take help to get here?”
I eased off the shoulder onto the road. “They’ll come fast, so maybe fifteen minutes since you first called. They could be at the crash scene in about ten minutes. But Brent is probably already on his way and could be there sooner.” I sped up.
Olivia told the dispatcher that Detective Fyne might be nearby. I had my car phone Brent. He answered from inside his car. I described Izzy’s crash and added, “We’re not sure what Landon had to do with it and what he yelled at us through our closed windows, but he might have said that Izzy was kidnapped. He’s ahead of us now, speeding west on H.”
“I’m on C, close to H.” Brent sounded reassuringly calm. “I’ll go directly to the crash site and help Jocelyn search for Izzy while we wait for more officers, an ambulance, and firefighters. Meanwhile, do not approach Landon, and if you spot him or his car, let us know, and then you go back to pick up Jocelyn.”
“I see something like a red flashing glow ahead.”
“It could be first responders from Gooseleg.”
“Or it could be Landon’s hazard lights again. As soon as I figure out where he’s going—maybe it’s to the caboose—I’ll let you know. If he’s trying to rush her to a hospital, he’s going the wrong way.” Gooseleg didn’t have a hospital. The nearest one was in Fallingbrook. Landon could drive to that one by continuing west on H and then turning left at the end of H, but it would take longer.
Brent reminded me, “Stay out of danger, Em.”
“I will. And Olivia’s with me. She has 911 on the line.”
“I’m turning onto H now.”
“Okay, I’ll let you know what we find, if anything.”
Treed on both sides, the road climbed. The night was lit only by stars, our headlights, and that flashing, pinkish glow ahead. A forested hill rose to our right. Ahead, the flashing lights appeared to be stationary and in or beside the right lane.
Although figuring out if Landon was holding Izzy captive was urgent, I slowed, prepared to respond if the vehicle with the flashing lights tried to force us off the road. We wouldn’t be any help to Izzy if my car, with Olivia and me strapped inside, ended up rolling down the hill and into trees across the road from the property Izzy was buying.
I recognized Landon’s car, even though the flashing hazard lights made me want to close my eyes. With its headlights off, the sedan was, I thought, parked close to the former driveway leading up to the meadow where Izzy had found Adam’s body.
Beside me, Olivia said into her phone, “The car that fled the crash scene shortly after we arrived there is parked farther west on County Road H.” Olivia sounded the same way I felt—dry-mouthed and not quite able to swallow.
Telling myself to be calm and rational, I turned on my own four-way flashers and parked behind Landon’s car. If he was in it, I couldn’t see him.
Olivia told the dispatcher where we were, and I updated Brent. We both got the same answer. Stay in your car with the doors locked and stay on the line.
Olivia and I looked at each other. Brent could reach this spot soon if we needed him, and other officers had to be on the way. We shook our heads and obeyed only the last part of our orders. Holding our phones, we quietly stepped out of the car. In case we needed to rush back for shelter, I turned off the interior lights, and we didn’t quite shut the doors.
Landon hadn’t quite closed his driver’s door, either. We quickly checked the sedan’s seats and popped the trunk open. Izzy wasn’t in his car.
With our phones’ lights showing the way, we ran down into the ditch, jumped over the trickle of water, and dashed up the slope past TWIG’s sign, now bent almost to the ground.
We’d barely started up the trail into the canyon of fragrant, softly whispering pines when a man on the hill above us shouted “Izzy!” His voice was deep and musical. Landon.
However, I thought I detected a note of panic similar to mine. Despite everything he’d done in the past half hour, I wanted to believe that he wouldn’t harm Izzy.
I didn’t dare.
Running as quietly as we could in darkness lit only by our phones, which we shielded partially with our hands, Olivia and I rounded the bend near the cave-like niche where I’d found the box with donuts in it.
And then we were on the meadow. We heard nothing more from Landon.
Olivia and I turned off our phones’ lights. The hillside was huge. We didn’t dare yell and let Landon know where we were. We stood still, listened, and let our eyes adjust to the darkness.
Olivia pointed toward the pond where Izzy had found Adam’s body and whispered, “Someone’s over there with a light.” A glimmer showed between cattails shifting in slight breezes.
Again, we turned on our phones’ lights, but we covered most of them with our fingers and shined thin beams ahead of us. Taking long strides, we ran through the meadow. I hoped that Olivia’s sandals weren’t hurting her feet. I tried to steady and quiet my breathing. We slowed as we approached the glow near the hillside’s lowest pond.
Beckoning to Olivia to follow me, I shielded my phone’s light against my chest and tiptoed around the rock where I’d made Izzy sit when she’d appeared about to faint. I peeked around the stand of cattails.
Silhouetted by the light from his phone, Landon knelt over Izzy’s prone body. She was lying almost exactly where she’d found Adam’s body. Her feet were bare, and the elegantly simple black linen dress she’d chosen for Hope’s dinner party was sopping and mud-covered.
Landon’s hands were on Izzy’s shoulders, close to her neck.
