Almost Dead (Lizzy Gardner #5)(41)

“I’m still listening.” Barely.

“Since we’re on the same side,” the woman began, “I thought I would call you and ask you to lay off. No talking to the police. Just keep this between you and me.”

Lizzy rubbed her forehead, again thinking about hanging up. She didn’t have time for bullshit. “Keep what between you and me?”

“I know you talked to Melony Reed and Dean Newman’s girlfriend. Did Melony hire you to investigate something?”

Lizzy straightened in her chair. Now they were getting somewhere. “That’s privileged information.”

“Melony’s dead. I don’t think she would care if you told me.”

“Do you know Melony Reed and Dean Newman?” Lizzy asked.

“Perhaps.”

“Do you know where Dean Newman is?”

“If I did, why would I tell you?”

“Because you just said we were on the same side.”

“First I have to be sure I can trust you.”

“You can trust me, but how do I know if I can believe anything you’re telling me? How do I know you’re not just another crazy who likes to call the police or investigators like me for attention?”

“I’ll tell you this much . . . you’re never going to catch me.”

For a moment, Lizzy said nothing as she stared out the window. But then she took the bait and asked, “Work together how?”

“You need to stay out of my business. Let me do my thing, and trust me when I say certain people deserve whatever punishment I dish out.”

Across the street, standing near the coffee shop, was a man. Tall and broad-shouldered, and he wasn’t drinking coffee. He wasn’t doing much of anything, for that matter. Just looking toward Lizzy’s office, staring, watching.

The hairs at the back of Lizzy’s neck stood on end. The woman was talking again, but Lizzy wasn’t paying any attention. “Could you hold on just for one moment?”

Lizzy didn’t wait for an answer. She set the phone on her desk, grabbed her cell phone, and began to take pictures of the man. She was able to zoom in, but the glass window and cloudy day didn’t make for a perfect shot. On her feet now, she pretended to sort through a few papers as she slowly rounded her desk; then she grabbed the door, opened it, and sprinted for the coffee shop.

The man took off.

Lizzy took chase. Already up to speed, she might be able to catch up to him. He wore jeans and a bluish-brown plaid shirt. She hadn’t been able to see his face since he also wore dark shades and a baseball hat. He was a big guy, though. Same large build as Detective Chase. He knocked a woman to the side and took off down an alleyway between two buildings. Lizzy cut into the alleyway just as he made a sharp right out of view at midblock.

Her breathing was growing labored. She hadn’t taken her morning run in a while. OK, quite a while. She was out of shape. By the time she cut down the crossing alleyway, he was gone.

She stood there panting, hands on hips. After she caught her breath, she walked along the alley to the parking lot at its end.

Nothing but a few delivery trucks. Behind the solid wood fencing to her right were houses. She listened for any sign that might tell her he’d gone that way: barking dogs, people talking, footsteps. Nothing. It was cold out, and her breath came out in frosty puffs as she walked toward the delivery trucks. The back doors of the first two were thrown wide-open. Boxes were stacked high. She rubbed warmth into her arms as she walked along to the next truck. Its doors were more than three-quarters closed. She peered inside, couldn’t see a thing. She grabbed the handle and was about to pull the metal door open.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

Damn. She stepped back and faced the uniformed driver approaching her with a box in his hands. Watching them both was another man, standing in the back doorway of the business the driver had apparently just left. Great: an audience. She didn’t have time for a scene.

“Just looking for someone.”

“Inside the back of my truck?”

“Well, yeah.”

Shaking his head, the driver grabbed hold of the handle and yanked it open.

A kick in the face was what he got for his efforts. He was on the ground, flat on his back, his nose a bloody mess, and then the man Lizzy had been chasing was vaulting over him and charging off across the parking lot.

“Call for help!” Lizzy shouted to the business owner looking out the back door before she was on the run again. She sprinted across the parking area, made a right back toward her office.

She darted across the street. Tires screeched. Somebody shouted at her.

He was gone.




After losing her guy, Lizzy went back to check on the driver. It wasn’t long before two police cars pulled up, and then another dark sedan driven by none other than Detective Chase. Just what she needed. She watched him climb out of his car, not an easy feat considering his size.

“Gardner, why am I not surprised to see you here?”

“I don’t know, Detective. You tell me. And why are you here? The guy has a broken nose for God’s sake.”

“I was in the area when the call came in.” He sighed as he rubbed bloodshot eyes. His hair was a mess. For the next ten minutes, he questioned the driver. Then he made his way to Lizzy where she’d taken a seat on the pavement, her back resting against the side of a building.