Death of a Coupon Clipper (22 page)

Hayley reached down and tried lifting Lex by the shoulders to drag him toward the
couch, but he was too heavy. She got him a few feet and then gave up, opting just
to grab a pillow and gently place it underneath his head. He snorted, raised his head
a few inches, opened his bloodshot eyes, and then looked around. He tried focusing
on Hayley’s face, a smile forming on his lips; but then he dropped his head down into
the pillow and passed out.

His deafening snoring picked right up again. Lex was going to be no help whatsoever.
Hayley was just grateful he passed out in a heated house. If he had been stumbling
along the sidewalk on his way here in such a drunken state, he could have toppled
off the curb and twisted his ankle or fallen to the pavement and just passed out.
He might have spent the whole night outside facedown in the snow.

He would have frozen to death.

The thought of that stopped Hayley.

Frozen to death.

Of course.

It all made sense.

It would explain everything.

Hayley treasured the giant white chest freezer out in her garage. Whenever choice
meats and expensive seafood went on sale at the Shop ’n Save, she would buy up as
much as she could afford and then store it in her freezer until she needed them. It
was a great way to save money because the sales never lasted long and the food kept
for months.

What if someone stabbed Candace and left her dead on the front lawn, but because of
the cold temperature—it was below zero that night after all—her body froze, slowing
down the decomposition of the corpse?

She remembered seeing something about that on the Discovery Channel last November.

Thank God she paid her cable bill that month.

What if Sabrina forgot to factor in the freezing temperature that night and got the
time of death wrong?

What if Candace died hours earlier?

Then Clark Hollingsworth’s airtight alibi would be blown wide open.

He could have stabbed Candace with the scissors and then strolled over to the Porter
House for a steak and some red wine, where he hung out the rest of the night, closing
the place well after ten o’clock when the murder supposedly took place.

Hayley grabbed her cell phone and looked Sabrina Merryweather up in her list of contacts.
She hastily tapped the number and heard ringing.

Sabrina answered in a huff. “Yes?”

“Sabrina, it’s me, Hayley Powell.”

“Hey, girl. Can you believe this nasty weather? I hate it. It’s nights like this I
want to quit my job as county coroner and move to Hawaii. Not Florida. Why punish
myself by going someplace where I’d be spitting distance from my crazy mother?”

“Listen, Sabrina—”

“Hold on a sec, Hayley, I have to yell at my deadbeat husband,” she said. “Put your
pants on! We’re not having sex tonight! Get it through your thick skull! I’ve told
you a dozen times already!”

Hayley didn’t relish the idea of having to listen to this.

“No, I’m not in the mood! You want to get me hot and excited? Get a friggin’ job!”
she bellowed before returning to her usual sweet-and-fake tone. “I’m back, Hayley.
Can you believe him? I work hard performing autopsies and assisting the police with
complicated murder investigations, while he lounges around all day in his underwear
watching Ellen DeGeneres and painting one Acadia National Park landscape a year! If
I want to see this beautiful place where we live, I can just step outside. I don’t
need to hang a painting on my wall! Am I right?”

“Listen, the reason I’m calling—”

“I don’t mean to unload on you, but I came home early today because of the storm and,
shock of all shocks, he was actually at his easel working. I just about fainted dead
away. But then the damn power went out and he couldn’t see what he was doing, so he
decided he wanted to do his other favorite pursuit. Me! Can you believe it? All I
wanted was to sit on the couch with a glass of Chablis to relax and watch my TV shows
I have stored on the DVR. I am so far behind on
Revenge.
Don’t you just love that one, Hayley? That conniving girl sticking it to everyone
who wronged her? She’s like my role model. Only half my age, which is why I hate her.
But I do love that Madeleine Stowe. If only I could be as bitchy and mean and hateful
to my husband as she is!”

Hayley tactfully chose not to respond to that.

Instead, Hayley forged ahead. “Sabrina, I just need to know if it’s possible for a
dead body to decompose at a slower rate if it’s out in the cold in freezing temperatures.”

“Yes, of course, it’s possible. Don’t you watch the Discovery Channel?”

“So then it’s also possible for a medical examiner to get the time of death wrong
if she perhaps . . . or, um, he . . . didn’t take the outside temperature into account
when performing the autopsy and just focused on how much the body had decomposed?”

There was a long, stony silence.

“I’m not sure what you’re getting at, Hayley,” Sabrina finally said flatly.

“Well, is it possible you got the time of death wrong?”

“Absolutely not.”

Hayley had known Sabrina since high school. And she knew she was lying. Hayley was
right. She had forgotten to take the temperature into account. But she also knew Sabrina
was never going to admit it.

“Do you have any idea the reputation I have built in this state, Hayley? I will not
have you running around tearing me down by suggesting I got a very important detail
wrong in my autopsy report. I thought we were friends. I thought you had changed since
high school.”

Sabrina was the ultimate mean girl, who had made Hayley’s life miserable when they
were fifteen. The idea that Sabrina believed Hayley was the one who was somehow .
. .

Hayley stopped herself.

She couldn’t get caught up in these memories now.

She had just identified Candace’s killer.

And she still had to find Randy.

“You’re right, Sabrina. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“We all make mistakes, Hayley. You’re forgiven,” she said, taking a dramatic pause.
“This time.”

“Thank you. Sorry to bother you,” Hayley said.

She knew she had to keep the county coroner on her good side if she was going to keep
jumping into the middle of murder investigations in between writing her food-and-cocktails
column.

“You have a good night. Oh, great. My husband just walked by, eating a candy bar.
The sugar rush is just going to make him hornier! I hate my life!”

She hung up.

Hayley’s mind was racing. If Clark was indeed the killer, then he had to be the one
who had tried to run her down with the snowmobile. And what if he had come back to
finish the job, only to find Hayley not here.

But Randy was.

The thought of that sent a chill through her bones.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do,” Officer Donnie whined on the other end of
the phone.

“You’re acting chief, Donnie. What you need to do is get yourself a search warrant
from the judge—who, I’m sure, is home because of the storm—and get over to the Hollingsworth
estate!”

Calling Donnie at the police station for help was Hayley’s best option at the moment.

And that scared the hell out of her.

“Can’t it wait until morning, Hayley? I mean, have you looked outside? It’s going
to take me at least an hour to shovel enough snow so I can back the squad car out
of the driveway.”

“Donnie, my brother is missing and I have reason to believe Clark Hollingsworth had
something to do with it.”

“Well, how long has he been gone?”

“I don’t know. Maybe an hour.”

“I hate to break it to you, Hayley, but you’re not supposed to file a missing persons
report for at least forty-eight hours.”

“Twenty-four.”

“Yeah, I loved that show. Kiefer Sutherland kicked ass!”

“I’m not talking about the TV show, Donnie. It’s twenty-four hours, not forty-eight.
You only have to wait twenty-four hours before filing a missing persons report.”

“Seriously? I could’ve sworn it was forty-eight.”

“It doesn’t matter, Donnie! That’s not the point!”

“It kind of is, if you ask me, Hayley. You said your brother’s only been missing an
hour or so. That doesn’t exactly add up to twenty-four.”

Hayley wanted to reach through the phone and strangle his scrawny, little neck.

But she took a deep breath and tried again.

“Listen to me carefully, Donnie. Sabrina Merryweather got the time of Candace Culpepper’s
death wrong. Candace died much earlier, maybe six or seven in the evening, not nine
o’clock, like she reported.”

“Wow. Really? How did she mess that one up so bad?”

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is Clark Hollingsworth no longer has an alibi. Plus
Candace may have stumbled upon a secret he’s been harboring—that he’s not really Clark
Hollingsworth. He’s an impostor. A con man. And when he found out I was close to finding
out the truth, he tried to run me down with a snowmobile.”

“He did? You really should have reported that, Hayley.”

“Again, Donnie, not the point. Just know that Clark’s been gunning for me. And when
he showed up at my house and I wasn’t home, he scuffled with my brother, and now Randy’s
missing.”

“How do you know he was at your house? Did you see him take your brother away?”

“No, but I saw signs of a struggle and tire tracks coming and going.”

“How do you know it was Clark Hollingsworth? Or this pretend Clark Hollingsworth?”

“I just know, okay?”

“That’s really not enough for me to put on my coat and trudge over to the judge’s
house to get him to sign a warrant and then hightail it all the way over to the Hollingsworth
estate.”

“Randy’s life could depend on it, Donnie!”

“Should we call Sergio and get his take on this?”

Hayley couldn’t control herself anymore. “No, you bonehead! Sergio’s in Brazil, thousands
of miles away! He can’t do a damn thing! But if you don’t do something soon, you’re
going to have to explain why you just stood by, doing nothing to save the love of
his life, when you had the chance!”

Donnie pondered this. Then, after a long pause, he said, “Okay, okay. I’ll head over
to the judge’s house. But you better be right about this, Hayley.”

“I take full responsibility. Now call the judge and tell him you’re on your way. Do
it now, Donnie!”

Donnie hung up.

She knew in her gut she couldn’t rely on him. He had been an unqualified disaster
as acting chief. Randy was a dead man if it was up to Donnie to rescue him.

Hayley glanced down at Lex’s prone body sprawled out on the floor, still snoring.

He wasn’t going to be any help either.

Everyone else in town was holed up at home, waiting out the storm.

She was Randy’s only chance.

Hayley lit another candle, picked it up, and raced over to the coat closet near the
foyer. She swung open the door, dropped to her knees, and began rummaging around with
one hand, while holding the candle up for light with the other.

She pushed aside a stack of cardboard boxes Randy used to store old clothes he was
planning to donate in the spring. Behind them, Hayley found what she was looking for.

A pair of snowshoes.

She threw on her coat and carried the snowshoes outside, where she snapped them on
her boots and began her arduous trek along the snowy shore path toward the Hollingsworth
estate.

Hoping and praying that she wouldn’t be too late.

It took Hayley about twenty minutes to shuffle her way through the snow to the Hollingsworth
estate. The lights were back on in the main house. But Hayley noticed the caretaker’s
house, where Lex lived, was still dark. This probably meant that Edgar could afford
his own generator and didn’t have to rely on the local power company. As she got closer,
she noticed a black tarp hastily thrown over something next to the side of the house.
She yanked off her snowshoes and carefully made her way over to the tarp, lifting
it up to reveal a snowmobile. It looked similar to the one someone used to try and
mow her down, but she couldn’t be absolutely sure. Still, she was relatively confident
it belonged to Clark and he was the one who came after her that day in the park.

Hayley quietly walked up the steps to the front door. She tried the knob. It was locked.
She looked around for another way inside the house. She wasn’t about to knock and
announce her presence.

She crept around the house to the back and attempted to open a few windows. On her
third try she found one that was unlocked. She used all her might to pry it open,
as it was stuck. When it finally gave, it opened so fast that the pane banged noisily,
and Hayley froze in her tracks, fearing Clark might hear her.

She waited a few moments to make sure no one was coming to investigate the loud noise,
and then she hoisted herself up and crawled through the window.

She was in a small nook, just off the kitchen. She had only been in this house a few
times over the years, so she wasn’t that familiar with the layout. She was going to
have to wing it.

Her adrenaline pumping, Hayley kicked off her boots and, in her stocking feet, soundlessly
made her way forward into the main part of the house, acutely aware of the danger.
But all she could think about was saving her brother.

There was no sign of Clark downstairs.

She kept close to the wall as she looked around, not wanting to move to the middle
of the living room and risk exposing herself.

She stopped.

She heard a whirring sound and a pumping sound.

Like some kind of machine operating.

It was coming from upstairs.

She made her way over to the staircase, gripped the railing, and carefully ascended,
taking great care to avoid any creaky steps.

The hallway light was off, but there was a glow coming from the master bedroom. She
drew closer, until she was just outside the room. She poked her head around to look
through the crack of the open door, and was surprised to discover Edgar Hollingsworth
in his bed, hooked up to a variety of breathing machines, feeding tubes, and monitors,
which were clicking and whirring and pumping and keeping his condition stable.

When did they send him home from the hospital?

Hayley stepped inside the room for a closer look.

Though rail thin and pale, Edgar looked as if he was just taking a nap.

So at peace. Completely unaware that an intruder had wormed his way into his house,
claiming to be his nephew, and was now trying to take him for everything he was worth.
And had even gone so far as to commit murder to keep his nefarious plot under wraps.

Hayley stepped forward, reaching out to touch Edgar’s wrinkled, bony hand.

She closed her eyes, praying he would recover.

Edgar was a good man.

He deserved to make it through this.

The door behind her made a creaking sound.

As if someone was slowly closing it.

Hayley popped open her eyes and spun around.

Clark was standing in the room behind the door.

He had been here, watching her, the whole time.

“I’ve been expecting you,” he said. There was a wicked smile on his face. “There was
nothing more the doctors could do for poor Uncle Edgar, so I brought him home. Better
to live out his final hours in the house he built, instead of some impersonal hospital
room, don’t you agree?”

“Where’s my brother? What have you done with him?”

“He’s fine. By the time they find him, I’ll be long gone. I’m almost done here. Just
a few more valuables to pack up and I’ll be on my way.”

“So I was right. You’re a con man. You knew the real Clark was a recluse and very
few people here in town had even seen him since he was a little boy. So you took advantage
of that to come rob the place.”

Clark inched closer to Hayley.

She backed away, until she was pressed up against Edgar’s bed.

“Who are you, really?”

“The phantom. I come and I go. One month I may show up as a Hollingsworth cousin.
Or maybe a Murdoch nephew. Or the adopted son of Sam Walton, and an heir to the Walmart
fortune. When you throw rich names like that around, people tend to want to believe
you. They think all that good fortune might rub off on them.”

“You read about Edgar’s illness and you knew his grandson was in prison.”

“Easy score.”

“Until Edgar’s nurse, Candace, found out. She’s lived in this town her whole life.
Probably remembers the real Clark as a boy, just like I do. What happened? Did she
catch you in a lie? Did she know something about Clark that you neglected to research
and then confronted you with it? You couldn’t have her blowing the whistle, not before
you cleaned him out and got out of the state.”

“You’re playing a guessing game here.”

“I know for a fact that Candace Culpepper had something on you. She must have somehow
figured out your scheme.”

“Well, if she did, she didn’t tell me. You’re the only one who has been a pain in
my ass ever since I got here. I tried warning you with the snowmobile. But you just
couldn’t let it go. You had to keep sniffing around and asking questions. My only
choice was to show up at your brother’s house, where I knew you were staying, and
put you on ice until I could get out of town. I had a rag soaked with chloroform and
a garment bag to zip you up in so I could haul you back here. Unfortunately, you weren’t
there, but your brother was. He surprised me. He took one whiff of the chloroform
and it quickly became clear to him I was up to no good. We wrestled around a bit before
I managed to press the rag over his face and knock him out. I did capture a Powell—just
not the one I went to find.”

“So you’re saying you didn’t know Candace had figured out your scheme? Does that mean
you deny killing her?”

“No, I didn’t kill her. My goal is never to harm anyone physically. I like things
to go smoothly. No complications. Just in and out. Like the wind. And no one the wiser.
But sometimes things don’t go according to plan and you have to improvise.”

He was almost on top of Hayley.

There was nowhere for her to go.

She was cornered.

“I need you to come down to the basement with me so I can reunite you with your brother.
The two of you can enjoy each other’s company while I finish up here and say my good-byes
to dear old Uncle Edgar.”

He reached out and grabbed Hayley by the arm.

She tried fighting him off, but his grip was strong.

“You’re not tying me up in the basement!” Hayley said, struggling.

“I can’t risk you calling the police. Not until I’ve had the chance to vanish again.”

Suddenly the doorbell downstairs chimed and they both froze.

“Too late,” Hayley said, a smile creeping across her face. “I already did.”

Enraged, Clark wrapped his hands around Hayley’s throat and began squeezing. She raised
her arms, desperately trying to push him away.

She wrenched her head toward the door and tried to cry out for help. “Donnie!”

But she was all the way upstairs and the pressure on her windpipe from Clark’s hands
tightening made it come out as more of a tiny squeak.

They fell against the bed as they struggled, and Hayley feared they might endanger
Edgar by knocking into vital tubes and machines that were keeping him alive. She tried
to maneuver them away from the bed.

She was getting light-headed.

Clark’s hands were like a vise.

Crushing her neck.

She was afraid she was about to pass out.

So she brought up her left knee and slammed it into his groin.

There was a grunt and a
whoosh
as air shot out of fake Clark’s mouth.

He doubled over.

Hayley seized the opportunity to push him away and bolt out of the room, racing down
the stairs to open the front door.

But Clark came up fast behind her, tackling her, and the two tumbled down the stairs,
thumping hard against every step until they landed in a heap at the bottom.

Momentarily stunned, Hayley lifted her head to see Clark already springing to his
feet and running over to grab an iron poker next to the fireplace. He raised it above
his head and marched back over to beat Hayley with it.

She covered her eyes and screamed.

The front door burst open and Officers Donnie and Earl charged in, guns drawn.

“Put the poker down! Now!” Donnie yelled, impressively mustering up some authority
for the first time.

And for that, Hayley was grateful.

Clark dropped the poker and it clattered to the floor.

He raised his hands above his head.

Earl was leaning down next to Hayley and rubbing her back.

“Are you all right?”

Hayley nodded. “Go down to the basement. He’s got Randy down there. Make sure he’s
all right.”

Earl’s eyes widened with surprise. He couldn’t believe such drama was actually happening
on his shift. He took off running toward the door to the basement.

Donnie removed a pair of handcuffs from his belt with his free hand, ordered Clark
to turn around so his back was to him, and then reholstered his gun and snapped the
cuffs on Clark’s wrists. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a slip of
paper and started to read from it.

“‘You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against
you in a court of law. . . .’”

Donnie glanced up to see Hayley smiling at him, impressed that he came prepared. He
gave her a wink and continued reading Clark his Miranda rights.

Hayley heard footsteps coming up from the basement. Earl was gently guiding Randy
by the arm. He was a bit groggy from the chloroform, and his hair and clothes were
disheveled, but otherwise he looked fine.

Hayley jumped to her feet and hugged her brother. “You had me so worried.”

“I’m okay. . . . He said he wasn’t going to hurt me. He was just going to hold me
for a few days.”

“Well, he’s being arrested for kidnapping and murder. I think it’s safe to say he’s
more dangerous than he claims he is,” Hayley said.

Clark twisted his head around and barked, “I told you I didn’t kill anybody!”

“Shut up!” Donnie warned as he led him outside. “Shit! I forgot. We didn’t bring the
squad car. That means we have to walk this guy all the way back to the station!”

Officer Earl turned to Hayley and Randy. “You guys coming?”

“No,” Hayley said. “I’m going to call the hospital and have someone come over and
check on Mr. Hollingsworth to make sure he’s okay and all the life-support machines
are still working properly.”

Earl offered a quick wave good-bye and followed Donnie out the door.

“You did it, sis. You solved Candace Culpepper’s murder. I’m so proud of you.”

Hayley thought for a moment and shook her head.

“I’m starting to think I didn’t.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was so convinced the killer was Clark. I mean every piece of the puzzle fit perfectly
into place. Except for one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“The killer used left-handed scissors to stab Candace. When Clark chased me down the
stairs and picked up that poker he was going to swat at me with . . . he used his
right hand,” she said as she looked at Randy. “I think he may be telling the truth.”