Red Julie (An Olivia Miller Mystery Book 2) (26 page)

Instead of going to her room for the necklace, she edged into the den and went to the walk-in closet to open the wall safe. She switched on the closet light and punched in the combination code. She swung open the door to the safe and reached in. Olivia heard her phone ringing in the living room. As she withdrew her hand from the safe, something at the door of the den caught her attention and she turned around to see Brown staring at her.

Joe was walking through the house on Beach Street when his cell phone rang. He glanced at it but didn’t recognize the number, so he put it back in his pocket.

“Take the call, if you like,” Joe’s friend said.

“I don’t know who it is,” Joe replied. “They can leave a message.” He and his friend finished going into all of the downstairs rooms and headed up the stairs to the second floor. There were four bedrooms and two baths, all in different states of disrepair.

Joe and his friend stood on the front lawn, looking at the outside of the house. “I like this place. I think I could do a lot with it,” Joe said. “It has an excellent location. It would all depend on the price.”

“I’ll give you a call as soon as it’s officially listed,” his friend said. “I think the family wants to unload it quickly. They may be very happy to have an immediate offer.”

“I hope we can work something out. Let me know.” Joe and his friend shook hands. Joe headed up Beach Street to the center of town, thinking about where he would stop to get takeout to bring home for dinner. He wondered what Olivia would like to eat. He decided to call her and pulled out his phone, but changed his mind in case she was napping. He remembered the earlier call and checked if there was a voice mail. He punched in his password and a man’s voice came on.

Joe, this is Rodney Hannigan. I just returned home from Logan Airport and saw Olivia’s email. I lost my phone before I left on business for a few days and had to get another one. I had no idea all of this happened. Thank heavens Olivia is alright. Detective Brown has not tried to contact me; in fact, he does not have permission to enter the beach house. I never gave him a key. He never told me he was going to investigate the house. I called Olivia but she didn’t answer. I am very concerned that Brown entered the beach house without permission. I don’t like this. Maybe I’m an alarmist but until he explains how and why he entered my house, may I suggest you use caution in any dealings you have with him. Please give me a call when you can.

Joe’s heart thudded against his chest. He punched Olivia’s cell number into his phone and waited. It rang and rang and her voice mail kicked in. He hit the end button and put the phone in his pocket.
Brown.
What’s that son of a bitch up to?
Joe took off running down Shore Road in the direction of Olivia’s house.

“What do you have in that safe?” Brown commanded, advancing across the room.

Olivia glared at him. “Nothing of importance to you.”

“I’ll judge that,” he said, moving fast to the closet.

Olivia slammed the door of the safe and spun the dial.

“You need to leave,” Olivia said.

“I know your aunt had something that belonged to the Siderovs. Something relevant to this case,” Brown said. He grabbed Olivia by the shirt front and pulled her close. “Open the safe,” he hissed.

“Now it makes sense,” Olivia said.

“What are you talking about?”

“I wondered why my aunt didn’t go to the police. Now I know.”

Brown put his hand on Olivia’s neck and tightened his grip. He pressed his face next to hers. “Open it.”

“What happened to my aunt?” Olivia croaked.

“Shut up.”

Olivia’s head hurt and she felt weak and woozy. Sparkles danced in front of her eyes and she squinted, trying to force the dizziness to pass. Trying hard not to pass out, Olivia looked over Brown’s shoulder and focused on the long, white shelf that Aggie had placed on the wall above her desk. On it were pictures and trinkets from when Olivia was little. Aggie had framed a drawing Olivia had done when she was about four, and the picture was on the shelf leaning against the wall. There was a cat sculpted out of clay, a pair of little sneakers Olivia had worn, a red box that Olivia had constructed out of a tissue box which was made to hold some of Aggie’s jewelry. It was held together with tape and glue and had a flap on top that opened and shut. It was covered in rhinestones.

Olivia had carefully folded a piece of red velvet cloth and covered the bottom of the box with it. On top of the velvet, Aggie had put a snapshot of her and Olivia on the first day of summer when Olivia was thirteen. It had been unusually warm and they had spent the day boogie boarding in the ocean, lying on the beach and eating ice cream. Aggie said it was one of the best days of her life and that by keeping the snapshot in that special box it would keep the magic of that day in her life forever.

Brown pressed harder on Olivia’s neck and shook her. She shifted her gaze back to his face. He banged her head against the safe. “Open it,” he raged. Olivia lifted her arm in slow motion, turned the dial and stepped back. Brown pushed on the handle and swung the door open. The safe was empty. He smacked Olivia across the face and she hit the opposite wall of the closet and slid down to the floor. She gasped and clutched her stomach.

“Where is it?” Brown sneered.

Olivia, grimacing, leaned slightly to the side and reached behind her.

“You mean this?” Olivia slipped the handgun that had been in the safe from her waistband and held it out in front of her.

“Bitch,” Brown cursed.

“Back up,” Olivia ordered.

Brown hesitated and took several steps back. Olivia pulled herself up from the floor and steadied herself by leaning on the wall. Her temple oozed blood from where her head had hit the safe. She gestured with the gun for Brown to move back and she stepped out of the closet and into the den.

In one swift movement, Brown’s hand flicked to his side and he raised his police side arm and pointed it at Olivia. She and Brown stood leveling guns at each other.

“Now, what?” Brown said.

“Get out of my house.”

“I don’t think so.”

Brown lunged for her gun. Olivia sidestepped him and brought the gun up and smacked him across the face with it. He wrenched it from her hand and Olivia tried to get around Brown to run for the living room. He caught her by the arm and dragged her to where her gun lay on the floor. He picked it up, flicked it open, and checked the barrel. Empty. He shook his head and tossed it on the den sofa. “Where is it?”

Olivia’s stomach lurched as the little strength she had drained out of her. “I told you…it’s in my room,” she mumbled. Her face was white.

“Not the necklace,” he menaced. “You know what I want.”

“No,” Olivia said, her teeth clenching. She inhaled sharply and spat each word out. “Why don’t you tell me? Murderer.”

Brown’s eyes were filled with hate. He growled, “I’m running out of time.” Sweat beaded up on his forehead and upper lip. He dragged Olivia by the arm to her bedroom, where she retrieved the necklace and passed it to him. Brown shoved Olivia down the hallway to the living room and pushed her into one of the chairs. Nausea flooded her body. Blood seeped into her shirt from the surgical wound.

The doorbell rang. Olivia and the detective exchanged glances.

“Liv?” Brad called from outside the door.

Brown glowered. “Get rid of him. Tell him we’re going over some more details. Make him leave.” Brown spoke through clenched teeth. “Or I’ll kill him.” Brown brandished his weapon before returning it to the holster beneath his jacket. “Get up. Open it.”

Olivia shuffled to the door and opened it a crack. “Hi.”

“Hi. I made you a blueberry cake,” Brad said. “You okay? You look pale.” He was holding a cake plate covered with a metal dome. Brad moved to enter the house.

Olivia stepped to block him. “Detective Brown is here. We’re going over things.”

“Again?” Brad said. “You should be resting.”

Brown appeared behind Olivia. “It’s necessary.”

“You’re bleeding,” Brad said when he saw the blood stain on her shirt. He pushed into the room. He took her arm. “Sit down. Should we call the doctor?”

He walked Olivia to the chair and made her sit.

“Brad, it’s ok. It happens. I just change the bandage. The doctor said to expect it. I’m okay,” she lied.

“Really?” He was balancing the cake plate on one hand. Brown was hovering next to him. “Your temple…it’s bleeding.” Brad took a tissue and dabbed at it.

“I bumped my head in the bathroom. It’s ok. I got dizzy, but I caught myself before I fell,” Olivia said.

“This is why we didn’t want you alone,” Brad scolded.

“It’s nothing,” Olivia told him. “I need to ask you to go. I’m getting tired and I have to finish up with Detective Brown.”

“Okay.” Brad was unsure. He looked at Brown, who nodded at him, and then back at Olivia. “Where’s Joe?”

“He went to look at a house on Beach Street. He’ll be right back.” She leaned her head back on the chair. “I really need you to go, Brad. So I can finish up with the detective and then I can rest.” She lifted her head and her eyes bore into Brad’s. “You know what a wimp I am,” she said pointedly.

A disbelieving look passed over Brad’s face and he was about to say something when Olivia said, “Thanks for the cake, but I’m allergic to blueberries. It was nice of you to bring it though. You know Joe will devour it. Maybe you could come by tomorrow for a little while.”

Brad’s eyebrows rose. “Okay,” he said slowly. He put the cake on the coffee table. He looked back and forth between Brown and Olivia. “I…okay…be sure to get some rest…I’ll come back tomorrow.” He backed away several steps, staring at Olivia, turned for the door and let himself out.

Olivia let out a deep sigh. “There, he’s gone.”

“Now where is it?” Brown asked.

“I gave it to you,” Olivia slurred. “Get out.” She felt like she was going to vomit.

“You know I’m not leaving with
just
the necklace.”

“Why don’t you tell me what it is you want? You can have whatever it is. Just leave us alone.”

Brown rubbed his forehead. He moved to the fireplace and leaned against it for a second. He straightened and his fist pounded on the mantle, making Olivia jump. He whirled around, his eyes flashing. His chest was rising and falling. “Your aunt was in possession of a valuable antique Swiss music box. It was engraved wood with inlaid mother of pearl.” His hands were clenched by his sides. “She sold it to the wrong person.”

Olivia looked puzzled.

“It was intended for Siderov, but Alexei got to your aunt’s shop too late.” He shook his head. “Shouldn’t send a boy to do a man’s job,” he muttered. He was pacing. “It seems she had already sold it to Andersen and no amount of money could get her to withhold the sale in order to sell it to Siderov.” He wheeled towards Olivia. “She shouldn’t have done that,” he sneered.

“A music box?” Olivia asked incredulously. “All of this for a music box?”

Brown studied Olivia’s face. “You’re as stupid as she was.”

Rage bubbled up inside of Olivia. She pushed herself out of the chair and stood on wobbly legs. The room was spinning again. Olivia’s shirt was wet with blood. “I don’t know where it is,” she seethed. “If she sold it to Andersen, why are you looking for it here? Stupid?”

“They hid it from us!” Brown shrieked. He flung his arm out, smashing over a lamp. His face was purple with fury. His shirt was wet from his sweat. “That’s why they’re both dead!” His eyes, bulging out of his head, locked on Olivia for a full minute.

She swayed slightly and put her hand on the back of the chair.

Brown’s jaw set. He had made a decision. “You’re coming with me.” He crossed the room and grabbed Olivia’s arm.

Olivia’s head felt like a balloon full of helium. “No. I’m not,” Olivia mumbled. She flopped to the floor like a rag doll with Brown still holding onto her arm. He stared at Olivia collapsed at his feet. Confusion raced over his face. He bent and scooped her up and headed for Olivia’s garage. He turned the knob and pushed open the door leading from the kitchen into the garage. Brown opened the back door of Olivia’s Jeep and plopped her on her back onto the seat.

Olivia opened her eyes. She took a deep breath, bent her knee, and as Brown was hunched over backing out the car, she let loose and booted him in the face with her foot, catching his nose with her heel.

“Bitch,” he screamed and clutched at his face, stumbling back from the Jeep. Blood poured from his nose.

Olivia leaned for the car door and yanked it closed. The pain in her gut radiated like knives up into her chest and down through her thighs but she forced herself to reach over the front seat to hit the button that locked all the doors. With a groan, she crumpled into a ball on the floor of the car. Olivia felt she was floating out of her body. She closed her eyes. A moan slipped from her lips.

“I’ll kill you!” Brown was wild. He pulled out his gun and shot out the passenger side window. The blast was deafening. Glass shattered and flew. He yanked on the passenger side door but it wouldn’t open. He whirled around to look for something to smash the remaining glass out of the window so that he could get at Olivia.

When Brown turned, there, face to face in front of him, stood Joe, holding a compression nail gun in his hand. Joe lifted the nail gun and pressed it to Brown’s forehead - in less than a fraction of a second, the nail plunged through the skull and into Brown’s brain.

Brad ran from the side yard into the garage carrying a metal pipe. He saw Brown slumped at Joe’s feet on the cement floor of the garage. Joe was shaking. Brad put his hand on Joe’s shoulder and squeezed. Brad opened the back door of the car to see Olivia on the floor.

“Liv!”

She turned her head. Seeing Brad, a weak smiled brightened her face.

“Did he hurt you?” His voice was tight with anger.

“I’m okay,” Olivia managed.

Brad put his arms around her and lifted her out of the Jeep.

“How’s our timing this time?” he asked her.

“Much better,” she said softly, resting her head on his shoulder.