Trick or Deceit (23 page)

“I'm sure I can find one,” Liv said. “Yolanda might have one that's similar enough in her store, and if she doesn't, the dress store on Fourth Street will.”

“I'll need to let A.K. in on the plan. I don't have enough men to stake out for a whole day and night. And we'll have to get them in place before the rumors start.” Bill puffed out his cheeks. “But if it doesn't work, we will have played our best card.”

“But if it works,” Liv said, “we'll have our murderer before the tourists pour in this weekend and we can get back to the business of Halloween. If not,” she shrugged, “there's still DNA.”

Yolanda returned on foot about twenty minutes later. She stopped for a second to get her breath back, while the group stopped whatever they were doing to surround her.

“Where's Rod?” Liv asked.

Yolanda made a sour face. “He dropped me off by the side of the road. He said he was late for an appointment.” She snorted. “Late for a rendezvous with a pool cue. Gotta get more exercise.” She sucked in a couple of breaths. “Amanda doesn't hold us responsible at all,” she said. “In fact, she offered to pay for our hotel rooms and dinner tonight. And she'll have Rod clean up everything so we can still have our Samhain here in two weeks.”

Murmurs of relief and excitement passed around the group.

“That's great news. I made the reservations already, so they're expecting you at the inn,” Liv said, and began to gently nudge the women into packing their cars up and driving away.

Then she and Bill just looked at each other.

“You know, Liv, this is not your job.”

“Having second thoughts?”

“No. Thinking about lunch.”

“Then let's get back to the office and order in while we fill Ted in on what he has to do.”

Bill and Liv informed Ted of their plan over soup and sandwiches delivered from Buddy's diner. A.K. arrived just as they were finishing.

Liv listened as he and Bill discussed the number of men needed and the logistics of getting them in place while not alerting the public as to what they were doing. Both men's heads—one curly and graying, the other shaved to a shine—were bent over the rough map that Bill had drawn of the camp and meadow.

“Camouflage wear,” A.K. said. “We all have night-vision goggles.”

Liv stared. Bill's shook his head. “Obviously the private security business is booming. I'm lucky if I can get the extra hours approved.”

“We'll fill in where you need us. Just say the word.”

“Um, now that we've started this,” Liv said, “how much is this going to cost the event office? Since Bayside Security is paid out of our budget.”

A.K. looked at Liv. One side of his mouth twitched, barely a tic. But Liv had come to recognize it as A.K.'s version of a smile.

“We won't need that many men. Three or four max. We're used to long shifts.”

Liv imagined that was true. As far as she had learned, A.K. and his crew all had served actively in the Marines or some other form of the armed services. They were very efficient.

“So, Sheriff, I suggest you position your men along the road in unmarked cars, close but where they won't be seen from the road.”

Bill nodded. “There are drives and turnouts all along that area of road.”

“But how will you get men in place at the camp?” Liv asked. “Anyone driving by might see you.” She held up a hand. “Wait. I know. You have your ways.”

“Actually,” A.K. said. “I thought we might do a little fishing. I'm sure Chaz would be glad of a hire.” He frowned slightly. “If he'll promise to stay out of the way.”

Ted caught Liv's attention and half winked. She wasn't oblivious to the slight competition between the two men.

Ted claimed it was over her. Liv was sure they did it just to drive her crazy. As far as she knew, they'd never spent time together before the night they came spying on her and Jon. Well, good—this would give all three of them a chance to redeem themselves.

“Call him,” Bill said.

Liv pushed the landline phone toward him, but A.K. had already stood, retrieved his cell phone, and was walking into the outer office.

Liv raised an eyebrow to Ted. “Do you think he doesn't want us to hear?”

“I think secrecy is just an occupational habit,” Ted said.

Bill nodded in agreement.

A.K. came back into the room. “Chaz can have the boat ready in half an hour. We'll meet him at Cove Marina and he'll take us close enough to shore to wade into position.”

“Amazing,” Liv said. “How did you get him to move so fast? He never wants to help out.”

“Trade secret.” A.K. turned to Bill. “Let's get the rest of the details ironed out.”

It took less than twenty minutes to get the plan rolling.

“Ted, we'll call you as soon as everyone is in place and you can start the rumor mill.”

Bill and A.K. both stood to go.

Liv realized that they weren't including her in their plans. Which was reasonable, but it was her idea, and besides, she'd just thought of something.

“Wait!”

All three men turned to look at her.

“I have an idea.”

Bill automatically shook his head. “If it includes you coming with us, the answer is no.”

“Not me, necessarily. But . . .”

Bill groaned and eased himself back into the chair. A.K. just stood where he was, using every intimidating inch of himself to let her know that he wasn't going to let her come.

“First of all, you great big planners forgot to get the duplicate scarf.”

She could tell by their lack of expression that she'd caught them. Only Ted was smiling. And he was trying to hide it.

“Before you shut me down, just tell me what you think.” Not getting a verbal no, she went on. “If whoever the killer is does come out, and he picks up the replacement scarf and it isn't even the right scarf—there's got to be a technicality there.”

Bill sighed.

“We'll just get him to confess,” A.K. said.

Even Bill looked alarmed at that.

“You might frighten him—or her—into confessing. But you might not.”

“No,” said Bill.

“No, what?” asked Liv.

“No to whatever you're planning that places you in jeopardy.”

“Trust me, I don't want to be in jeopardy. But maybe we've got a better chance at confession if the killer is goaded by a helpless female.”

Someone made a rude noise. Liv was sure it was A.K., but when she looked around his face was perfectly masked.

“She's right, though I hate to admit it,” Ted said. “Are you sure there will be DNA that will stand up as evidence on the original scarf? Maybe the scarf fell off in the struggle.”

“Or when Ernie bumped into her on the awards night,” Liv added. “Or maybe her husband helped her on with her coat. No telling how many people's DNA is on that scarf; I hadn't thought about that.”

“If we can get evidence off the body, then we won't need the scarf. She wasn't strangled with the scarf.”

“Fine and dandy,” Liv said. “You try keeping everyone in place while the state gets around to testing your DNA samples. Hmm, let's see . . . weeks? Months?”

“True, I doubt we're a high priority.” Bill sighed. “Ted, give us twenty minutes until we can get the fake scarf in place, then make the calls.”

Ted looked from Bill to A. K. to Liv. “Then what?”

“Then,” Bill said reluctantly.

“
We're
going on a stake out,” Liv said. “After you, gentlemen.”

•   •   •

It was only five o'clock but already dark. Liv shifted in the makeshift bunker she was sharing with two of A.K.'s men. The replacement scarf had been surreptitiously placed back under the bush where Liv—or Whiskey, to be exact—had found it. And they were sitting about twenty feet away behind a wall of tangled bushes.

For once, Liv really hoped the town gossip mill worked quickly. She was bored, cold, and though she didn't want to admit it, a little nervous. She didn't really think anything would happen to her. There were enough men covering the area to subdue a small army.

And hopefully this would be only one man—or woman—if the killer took the bait. With the way things had been going, this would be the one day the murderer decided to go to Albany shopping and missed the rumors until it was too late.

She sighed. The minutes ticked by and Liv was beginning to think the trap wasn't going to work. Then one of the men suddenly put his fingers to his lips and moved silently to get a better view of the path to the meadow.

Liv hadn't heard a car, so the person must be on foot. Or had parked back at the fish camp and was walking the rest of the way.

That's when she saw the round beam of a flashlight swing across the meadow, getting closer. As it got closer, she felt the men around her tense with readiness.

Even Liv felt a little ripple of energy, but she was pretty sure it wasn't anticipation of a good fight, just plain old fear.

The light stopped; swung away. Liv saw someone go up the steps to one of the cabins, fumble with the lock, then the door swung open. The person shined the light around, but didn't go in. The light moved on. Slower now, and right past where Liv and the others were waiting.

It was a man, Liv could tell that much, but the flashlight pushed his features into deeper shadows.

He bent over, looking along the edges of the path, then straightened, and before he could move on, Liv recognized Rod Crosby.

One of her companions nudged her. She nodded. It was now or never. Liv stood. Was surprised at how stiff her legs were. Damn, she hoped the circulation returned before she had to run for her life.

Rod slowed again, shining the light along the ground. He was almost to the bush where the scarf was hidden.

Come on, come on,
Liv thought.
Just look under the bush.

The light moved over it and continued on.

He'd missed it. He took another step. Liv wanted to scream. Then Rod hesitated, turned the flashlight back to the ground. And stopped.

Eureka.

Liv's companion touched her shoulder, her cue to go as quickly and as silently as possible. She didn't know where the police or the rest of A.K.'s men were, but she knew they were close by and ready to come save her bacon.

She stepped out into the clearing. Rod had dropped the flashlight on the ground and was pulling at the scarf, which Liv had intentionally tangled around the branches to slow down his escape.

She reached him just as he pulled it free.

“Find what you're looking for?”

Rod let out a yelp and jumped to his feet. Tried to hide the shawl behind his back, but realized the futility of it.

He glanced down at the flashlight.

“Don't do it, Rod.”

“Do what? I'm just cleaning up the campground because of those damn witches.”

“In the dark?”

“I'll clean up when I damn well please. It's my property and you're trespassing.”

“It's Marlton property and you murdered Lucille Foster.”

He looked quickly around. “Who did you bring with you?”

Liv shrugged. “No one. The police aren't planning to look for the shawl until tomorrow. But when we were cleaning up after the jackass who vandalized the women, we found the shawl.”

Rod growled low in his in throat.

“I was afraid Jon killed Lucille, but I wanted to make sure, so I could help him get away before they came to arrest him.”

Rod snorted. “Him? You shouldn't have gone to the trouble.”

“Oh, I know he didn't kill her,” Liv said, stalling for time. Surely her backup was in place by now. “Because
you
killed Lucille.”

“Think you're so smart.”

“About this, I am. What do you plan to do with the shawl now, Rod? Burn it? Throw it in the lake?”

“I'll wrap it around your damn throat.”

Liv took a cautious step back.

“You women are all the same. Take, take, take. Nothing I ever do is good enough. Amanda is on my back twenty-four/seven. Lucille was after me to leave Amanda. Ha. She was nuts to think I'd jump off that gravy train. I've been putting up with enough crap from Amanda. No way was I going to give up my chance of all that money when I was so close.”

A chill ran up Liv's spine. “So close to what?”

“None of your business.” He stepped toward her, the scarf wadded in one hand.

Okay, this was getting a little too exciting for Liv's comfort level.

“You're going to kill me just like you killed Lucille?” She didn't have to fake the tremor in her voice.
Confess already.

“The silly bitch tried to run, tripped over her own feet, and knocked herself out. She didn't feel a thing when I wrapped these babies around her pathetic neck.”

He raised both his hands. He was wearing driving gloves. “You, on the other hand, will feel plenty. And I won't leave the scarf around for the police to find in the morning when they come looking.”

Dummy,
Liv thought.
Come and get him now, please.

He snatched the scarf in both hands, and before Liv could react, threw it over her head and yanked her forward.

Where the heck were those guys?

“Freeze.” A.K.'s voice.

Rod froze but he didn't let go of the ends of the scarf. Liv knew exactly what he had in mind. Just before he lunged forward, she dropped to her knees, leaving the scarf wrapped around air instead of her neck. Rod stumbled over her—right into the arms of two Bayside Security operatives.

Floodlights popped on. Car doors slammed. Running feet, and the county police were on the scene, followed by a slow-moving sheriff.

A.K. pulled Liv to her feet. She brushed off her hands. “Cutting it a little close, weren't we?”

One side of A.K.'s mouth lifted and then as she watched, the other side lifted into a full smile. Liv nearly sat down again. That smile was lethal. She smiled back.

They were smiling at each other when Chaz and the rest of the crew crashed through the woods.

Chaz skidded to a stop. “Guess I missed all the fun,” he said, looking at A.K. and Liv.

“What are you doing here?” Liv blurted.

“Doing my civic duty. I came for gossip.”

“Yep, the good guys won again,” A.K. said.

Chaz scowled.

“He confessed,” Liv said, trying to defuse the standoff between the two men.

“And is on his way to jail,” Bill added.

Chaz shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. “And did it occur to you that the Marlton money could pay a fortune to get him out on bail? And if he gets out, your life won't be worth a dime.”

Liv had
not
thought about that.

“Well, let's ask her.” Bill raised his chin toward the road. Amanda jumped out of the driver's side of Rod's jeep. She ran toward the group while Jon was still getting out of the passenger side.

“Looks like Amanda and your Manhattan swain to the rescue, a little late,” Chaz said.

Liv shot him a quelling look, then waited as the police escorted Rod past the newcomers.

“It was you?” Amanda asked incredulously. “You? I let you have everything, including your women. Why did you kill her? Why?”

Rod shrugged. “I was sick of being stuck with both of you.”

Amanda fists tightened, and before the police could take Rod away, she slugged him. His head snapped back. Even his two guards staggered beneath the strength of the blow.

“Whoa,” Chaz said. “She packs a punch for such a little woman.”

Amanda jutted her chin at her husband. “We'll see how you like having a court-appointed attorney to handle your case.” Then she sagged; Jon put his arm around her as she started to cry.