Almost Dead (Lizzy Gardner #5)(69)

“Lizzy Gardner, private investigator.”

“You do realize it’s five in the morning?”

Lizzy stiffened. That voice. It was her—hearing the killer’s voice on the other side of the door jolted her. “It couldn’t be helped,” Lizzy told the woman as she reached for the gun in her holster. “It’s very important that I talk to you right away.”

Surprisingly, Dana Kohl opened her door.

Lizzy took full advantage of her carelessness and muscled her way inside. It would be months before Detective Chase decided to do anything about the Ambassador Club killer. Unlike the detective, Lizzy refused to sit on her hands and do nothing. She’d find proof that Kohl was her killer, and she’d find it now.

Asking questions would be a waste of time. Kohl would only lie to her face.

With her gun pointed at the ground, Lizzy went through the house, one room at a time: the living area, the dining room, the kitchen. She opened and closed drawers, looked inside the refrigerator and the dishwasher, anywhere she thought Dana Kohl might be hiding her collection of poisons or toxins.

Kohl had been chattering along after her every step of the way. Now, as Lizzy started toward the hallway to the bedrooms, she threw herself in Lizzy’s path. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Oh, I’m getting warm, then,” Lizzy said, pushing past her. “I know who you are,” she said as she started down the hall. “I know what you’ve done.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The Ambassador Club,” Lizzy said, refusing to stop and chat. The first bedroom gave up nothing. “Don’t play coy with me.”

“I want you out of my house this minute.”

“When were you planning on striking again? What were you going to use this time?” She was in the bathroom now. Small quantities of common prescription meds. Aspirin. The usual stuff. No, Kohl wouldn’t be stupid enough to store her supplies in there.

Again Kohl blocked her path, this time in the bathroom doorway. “You think I had something to do with those people’s deaths?”

“If you didn’t, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I checked the rest of your house, would you?”

The woman stepped back and pointed toward the front door. “Get out.”

“Just as I thought.” Lizzy headed down the hallway. She heard the woman pick up the phone and then pretend to call 911. “A woman claiming to be Lizzy Gardner has forced her way into my home. She is carrying a gun. She’s clearly out of her mind. Please send help!”

Lizzy opened hallway closet doors as she went. Nothing.

There was an empty guestroom.

Nothing there.

The next room to the right was a home office. Again, Lizzy rifled through drawers, looked under furniture, searched through closets.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

The woman was still on the phone, explaining what Lizzy was doing, step by step. She was almost convincing.

Another closet. Lizzy put the gun in her holster and made quick work of checking coat pockets. She stood on her tiptoes and checked the shelves, rummaged through boxes and a shopping bag. Again, there was nothing unusual—no weapons or wigs, pills or chemicals.

In the master bedroom, she found baby aspirin and sleep medication. It wasn’t until she got on all fours and crawled under the bed and found a steel box that her adrenaline kicked up another notch.

She slid it out from under the bed, came to her feet, and used her boot to stomp on the lock. The box came open. Inside was a revolver and enough pill bottles to drug the entire block.

Sirens sounded. Less than a minute later, she heard loud footfalls.

“Drop the gun and put your hands up where we can see them. Now!”

Dana Kohl really had made the call. There were actual cops in the doorway.

Lizzy lifted both hands. “My gun is in my holster.”

One of the officers kept his gun pointed at her chest. “I want you on your knees with your hands in the air! Now!”

She dropped to her knees. “Listen to me. That woman, Dana Kohl, is a cold-blooded killer. You’re talking to the wrong person.”

“Put both hands flat on the floor! One wrong move and I’ll shoot.”

She started to protest.

“Now!”

She did as he said.

The officer straddled her and patted her down. He took her gun from her holster and then pushed her chest flat against the carpet. She could feel his knee in her backside while he finished his search.

“There’s a gun and poisons in that box over there,” Lizzy said, her voice half muffled in the carpet. “Those belong to Dana Kohl. You’ve got the wrong person.”

Her hands were pulled behind her back and handcuffs snapped in place.

Another officer yanked her to her feet and escorted her out of the bedroom and down the hall.

Dana Kohl stood in the living room, a trembling hand on her chest.

If Lizzy hadn’t seen the gun and enough pills to take out an army, the look in the woman’s eyes might have made her question herself.





CHAPTER 49

Hayley knocked three times, then tapped her foot on the welcome mat as she waited.

Tommy opened the door, rubbed his eyes. “Hayley?”

“Mind if I come inside?”