Almost Dead (Lizzy Gardner #5)(70)


He moved aside to make room and then followed her in. “What’s going on?”

“Kitally. Is she here?”

A dark brow shot up. “Kitally? Here?” He shook his head. “No. Why would Kitally be here?”

“I don’t know. I had to ask. The past few days have been crazy at the house and there were only two places I thought of that she might go to . . . home to her parents or here . . . to you.”

“I haven’t seen her since last weekend,” he said, “when I helped her with that missing dog situation.”

“She’s been missing since yesterday afternoon. Her phone has either been shut off or she’s in a place where she can’t get a connection.” Hayley plunked down on the sofa, looked around, tapped her fingers and toes.

“Does Lizzy know she’s missing?”

“Yeah, but she can’t help me now.”

“Why not?” Tommy asked.

“She’s in jail.”

He shook his head in wonder. “I need to get a pot of coffee brewing.” He stepped into the kitchen and started rooting around. Tommy’s apartment was basically one big living area with a counter separating the kitchen from the main room. A hallway led to the bedroom. As he filled the coffeepot, he blinked at her. “So now, why is Lizzy in jail?”

“After I left for El Dorado Hills to see if Kitally was at her parents’ house, I guess Lizzy went all psycho on a woman she thought was responsible for killing off the Ambassador Club.”

“I must really be out of the loop. The Ambassador Club?”

“Yeah, long story short, a woman who was bullied in high school by members of the Ambassador Club, some sort of high-end mean club, is killing club members left and right. She’s doing a good job, too, making many of the killings appear as accidents. She’s literally getting away with murder.”

“So, what did Lizzy do?”

“I don’t have all the details, but Lizzy was able to make one call and she called me. After hanging up, I called her friends at Channel 10 News and told them what was happening, asked them how in the world anyone could lock up a hero like Lizzy Gardner on a trumped-up charge like this. A woman who has lost everything?”

“Good one. You get shit for sleep, but you’re always thinking.”

There were more times than not that Hayley wished she could shut off her brain for a few hours, give it a rest, but so far she hadn’t figured a way to quiet the beast. “OK, so drink some coffee, Tommy, and try to remember the dognapper case. Kitally tell you anything going on in her life, anything at all that might tell me where the hell she is?”

Tommy left the coffee to brew and sat down across from her. “We didn’t have much time to talk. Everything went down pretty quickly. I had just gotten the camera set up when suddenly Kitally saw the guy with the dog approaching the house.”

Hayley exhaled as she stood.

“You’re not going to stay and have a cup of coffee?”

“No. I can’t.”

“Before we got to the dog lady’s house, Kitally had a lost look to her. Sad, too. I asked her what was wrong, and she said it was her brother’s birthday and she always thought of him on his birthday.”

“Kitally has a brother?”

“Or had a brother. I didn’t ask any more questions. I don’t think that bit of information is going to help you find her, though.”

“Do you think she went off somewhere to mourn?”

Tommy came to his feet, too. “I really don’t know. Do you want me to come with you?”

She shook her head. “I’m going to head home, get on Kitally’s computer, see what I can find. I’ll call you if I find her.”

“Yeah, good. I’d appreciate that. Let me know if I can help.”

After he walked her to the door, she surprised him with an awkward hug.

“How’s your shoulder doing?”

He straightened his arm, the one that had been injured in their war against Brian Rosie. “It’s almost as good as new.”

“That’s good. I like your place, by the way.”

“Thanks. Maybe next time you can stay for a while.”

She looked into his eyes, saw a glimmer of hope, and wondered why he even bothered with her. He’d grown in leaps and bounds over the years—opened a second karate school, moved to a nice apartment, helped Lizzy with her defense program. Hayley spent her nights wandering the streets, taking out a thug here and there. She had no tangible proof that she’d helped one other soul. Her future was a dark winding path with no discernible light at the end. Tommy was full of light, too good to follow her trail.

She opened the door and walked away without so much as a goodbye.




“Oh when the saints, go marching in . . . oh when the saints go marching in . . . oh, Lord, I want to be in that number—”

Kitally heard a noise on the little cinder block room’s roof. She stopped singing and listened closely. Heard the pitter-patter of tiny feet above her head. It was just a squirrel or a rat—though why would either bother with such a desolate place as this? There was nothing here to sustain life, as she might just be demonstrating.

She plopped down in the corner of the room, clamped her arms around her legs, and sang another verse. Her gaze darted from wall to wall, floor to ceiling. She already knew every crack in all four walls.

T.R. Ragan's Books