Death Vetoes The Chairman: Lizzie Crenshaw Mystery, #7

By Teresa Watson

Lizzie Crenshaw is used to being in the middle of murder in Brookdale. After attending a fundraiser with her friend, Jake Mathias, she embarks on the biggest emotional and physical journey of her life, leaving some of the residents of Brookdale reeling from the effects. And before it is all over, it could cost them someone they love...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Teresa Watson
• Release date: Jul 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9781516346561

Book preview

Chapter 1

For the tenth time, I wondered how I let myself get talked into the situation I currently found myself in. Then I glanced at the person sitting to my left and resisted the urge to kick him.

I was sitting in an elegant ballroom in a downtown Dallas hotel with about two thousand other people. Dozens of round tables were strategically placed around the room. Each one had a white tablecloth, white plates with gold edging, beige cloth napkins, gold eating utensils and crystal glasses. Ten giant chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and large flower arrangements on tall gold stands were scattered around the room.

My date for the evening was Jacob Mathias, my college boyfriend, one of the richest men in the world, and the one person who believes he is God’s gift to women. Known to his friends as Jake, we were here because he had gotten on his knees, begging and pleading for me to go with him. He called it "a boring little get-together that I just have to attend because the person in charge was an old family friend. Okay, so he didn’t really get on his knees, but he did spend ten minutes groveling. Stupid me...I thought it was going to be something where I could wear a business pants suit. After I consented, he threw the change up: By the way, Lizzie, it’s formal. You’ll need an evening gown. I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at six." And then the coward had run out the door before I could change my mind and tell him no.

My best friend, Trixie Greene, had brought a ton of things to my house this afternoon, and I was forced to submit to primping and curling, which I normally avoid at all costs. By the time she was done, even I had to admit I looked pretty good. She had selected a satin emerald green floor length gown, with a small, ruffled strap across the left shoulder, and a silver and green beaded belt around the waist. A diamond tennis bracelet was on my left wrist, and teardrop diamond earrings were partially covered by long, loose auburn curls, and I was wearing a pair of simple silver pumps. My phone, some cash and my house key were inside a small silver clutch. Trixie had also brought a beautiful silver Venetian lace shawl with fringe evenly spaced along the bottom.

Jake looked very handsome in his Armani tuxedo, and we garnered many envious looks when we walked into the ballroom. You do realize they’re staring at you, not me, he whispered in my ear.

I feel like one of those holiday dolls all dressed up like this, I whispered back. Explain to me again why we’re doing this.

The Winthrops are old family friends, he replied. My father called a few days ago, and asked me to make an appearance. Their son moved here to take over the Dallas office of his father’s business.

Do you know their son? I said as we were escorted to our table. To my horror, we were placed at a table near the front of the room.

I haven’t seen him in years, Jake said, helping me take off my shawl. He draped it on the back of the white slipcovered chair, and slid the chair in as I sat down.

Jake! a deep male voice called out from behind us. I turned slightly in my chair and gasped. He was tall and tan, with dirty blonde hair and piercing light blue eyes, and his black tuxedo couldn’t hide his muscular arms. He reminded me of that Texas actor who won the Oscar a few months ago, and when he smiled down at me, I melted at the sight of his dimples. You made it. It’s been what, ten years?

More like twelve, Jake said, shaking his hand.

And who is this beautiful woman next to you? Don’t tell me this is the young lady you were always talking about. Elizabeth, wasn’t it?

Elizabeth Crenshaw, this is Ethan Winthrop.

A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Winthrop.

The pleasure is all mine, Ethan said, taking my hand in his and kissing it. Please, call me Ethan.

After that, the evening had gone down the tubes. We were sitting at Ethan’s table, where he and Jake talked about business and mutual friends back east. After an hour, I saw people getting up and making their way to a room adjacent to the ballroom. I do believe we have bored poor Elizabeth to tears, Ethan said when he noticed me watching everyone leaving. Why don’t we follow the crowd and see what is going on next door?

Jake pulled my chair out as I picked up my clutch and stood up, but it was Ethan who offered me his arm and escorted me to the next room, leaving Jake to grab my shawl off the back of my chair. There was a large dance floor in the center of the room, with black and tan flooring. A large chandelier hung over the center, with smaller chandeliers hanging over the seating areas on both sides of the floor. The lighting was dimmed, giving the room an intimate feeling. The band, dressed in tuxedos, was sitting at the front of the dance floor, playing a slow jazz number.

Putting my wrap down on a nearby table, Jake gently pulled me away from Ethan and led me onto the dance floor. Sorry for ignoring you, he said. You know how it is. I start talking business...

...and you forget everything else, I finished for him. Yes, I remember lots of dates with you in college like that. I get the feeling you know Ethan better than you implied earlier.

I do, he admitted, but we had a bit of a falling out during high school.

So you’re childhood friends? He nodded. Wow, I don’t think you ever mentioned him when we were dating. Is he married?

Not that I know of. Why, are you interested?

You know better than that.

Yes, I do, he replied as a dark look crossed his face briefly. How are things going between the two of you?

He was referring to T.J. Roosevelt, with whom I had a rather complicated history. After I found out he was really an FBI agent, and how he was using me to capture my half-aunt, who just happened to be a serial killer, I had broken things off. We had recently decided that we both still cared about each other, so we were dating again. That decision didn’t sit well with Jake, who was still hoping he had a chance with me (he didn’t).

Before I could say anything, Ethan tapped Jake on the shoulder. May I cut in? he said. There was a brunette standing next to him, wearing a dress that left very little to the imagination.

I saw Jake eying her briefly before he looked at me. Do you mind dancing with Ethan for a few minutes? he said, clearly eager to swap partners but trying hard not to show it.

That’s fine, I replied. Heaven forbid I get between you and your next one night stand.

Ethan laughed while Jake glared at me. We switched partners, and the two of them danced away from us. Are you and Jake still dating? he asked me as we glided across the floor.

No, we haven’t dated in a long time.

Really? That’s interesting. Any particular reason why the two of you broke up? he asked as he slid his hand down my back and stopping on my behind.

I reached back and moved his hand up to my back. Because he wanted something he couldn’t have, I said tersely, hoping he got the message that what he wanted was off limits as well.

And what was that? Ethan asked, twirling me out and pulling me back.

Marriage.

You don’t believe in it?

I do, but I didn’t like the future he was planning for me.

He looked down at me. And now? What does the future hold for you?

I shook my head. I don’t know. I’ve had some recent disappointments that have made me rethink what I want to do with my life.

I didn’t notice that he had moved us to the edge of the dance floor. There was a curtain off to the left, and before I realized it, Ethan had steered me behind the curtain. There was a glass door that opened onto an outdoor patio. I glanced up at the twinkling stars. These disappointments you mentioned, he said, I take it there’s a man involved?

Nothing for you to concern yourself about, I replied. How are you enjoying Dallas so far?

I will admit it’s been a bit...dull, until tonight, that is, Ethan said as he grabbed my arms, pulling me toward him. He leaned over and kissed me hard.

I shoved him away, but he reached out for me. He managed to get his hand around a strap, and I winced as I heard something rip. The strap slid off my arm and hung down the front of my dress. What do you think you’re doing? I gasped.

Kissing a beautiful woman, he said, grabbing my arms and pulling me toward him again. He kissed me again, and that’s when I stomped on his foot. What is your problem?

At the moment, you are, I said. You’ve got a lot of nerve putting the moves on your friend’s date.

He laughed. He won’t even notice you’re gone, my dear. Babs will keep him busy for quite a while.

That’s what you think, I snapped, moving toward the door.

Ethan quickly blocked my escape route. There’s no reason to be so hostile, Elizabeth. I’m sure we will become very close and personal friends. I assure you I take very good care of my friends.

There was only one way I was going to get out of this. Really? And how do you plan on taking care of me?

Smiling, Ethan moved closer. He put his arms around me, leaned over and kissed my neck. I’ll set you up in an apartment, give you a car with your own driver, whatever you want.

This is what I really want right now, I replied, before slamming my knee into a rather sensitive area.

He gasped, let go of me and fell to his knees. I stepped around him, yanked the door open, and went back inside. I spotted Jake dancing with Babs the maneater (okay, so I didn’t really know if she was a maneater, but considering who she hung out with, namely Ethan, I was assuming they were two peas in a pod). Walking over to him, I put my hand on his arm. He was smiling when he turned around, but he took one look at my face and dropped Babs’ hands. What’s the matter?

Take me home, please, I said, biting my lower lip to keep from crying.

He noticed the torn strap. What happened?

I shook my head. Not here. Please, can we just go?

Jake looked over my shoulder and spotted Ethan, who was walking very gingerly as he approached us. What’s going on?

Nothing at all, Jake, Ethan said. We were talking, and when Elizabeth turned to come inside, she slipped. I tried to break her fall, and the strap broke.

That’s not true!

Please, Lizzie, keep your voice down, Jake said. He led me off the dance floor and over to the table where my shawl was. Now what happened?

Exactly what I told you happened, Ethan replied. She’s just upset.

I didn’t ask you, Ethan, Jake said coldly. Tears slid down my cheeks. I didn’t want to talk about this in public. I just wanted to go home. Jake put his hand under my chin, and raised my head until I was looking him in the eye. Tell me, Lizzie.

He...forced himself on me while we were on the patio. I pushed him away, but he wouldn’t stop. So I stomped on his foot, and tried to go around him to come back inside. He said we could become close and personal friends, that he would set me up with an apartment and a car...

Are you trying to replace me? Babs yelled.

Lower your voice, Barbara, Ethan said, looking around the room. People were staring at us and whispering. I could just imagine what they were saying. She’s the one who came onto me. When I rejected her advances, she tore the strap on her gown to make it look like I was the aggressor. She’s not my type.

Jake ignored them. What happened after he said that?

I gave him a knee in the family jewels.

Jake smiled. That’s my girl, he said, and gave me a brief hug. Turning around, he glared at Ethan. I believe her. You always were a womanizing jerk when we were kids, and I see that hasn’t changed any. He picked up my shawl and put it over my shoulders. Are you ready to go? I nodded. It’s been nice seeing you again, Ethan. Let’s make it the last time.

Ethan laughed haughtily. You have always been a sucker for a pretty face and a sob story, Jake. Fine, leave. You two deserve each other. It’s obvious she’s nothing more than a...

Jake punched him in the face before he could finish his sentence. Ethan stumbled backwards and fell against a table. The table tipped over, spilling plates, silverware and crystal goblets all over the floor. She has more class than you will ever have, Winthrop. Don’t ever come near her, or me, again.

He draped his arm around my waist, steered me around the wrecked table, and out of the door. Thank you, Jake, I said quietly as we walked toward the front of the hotel.

For what? he asked. The doorman quickly opened the door for us and signaled for the valet.

For believing me about what happened, I sniffled.

He pulled his handkerchief out of his breast pocket and handed it to me. I know you would never do the things he accused you of, Lizzie, he said, squeezing my hand. When we first started dating, it was a month before you let me kiss you.

I started crying then. The adrenaline rush was gone, and I was shaking. Jake pulled me to him, wrapped his arms around me, and let me cry. He handed his ticket to the valet, who hurried off to get the Porsche. Is there anything I can do for the young lady, sir? the doorman asked. He sounded like an Englishman, and he watched us with a concerned look on his face.

Jake shook his head. She’ll be fine. She’s tougher than she looks.

Are you sure, sir? the doorman sounded doubtful.

Quite sure. I don’t know any other woman who could defend herself from a man who tried to take advantage of her, and look so beautiful doing it.

I hope you gave it to him good, ma’am, the doorman said to me. Men like that should be...well, I won’t say it. Good for you, ma’am, good for you.

Thank you, I said.

The valet parked the Porsche at the curb, and the doorman hurried down the steps to open the passenger door for me. Chin up, love. Sounds like you did yourself proud.

I nodded and got into the Porsche. As we drove away, I said to Jake, Do something for me.

What’s that?

Never invite me to one of these shindigs of yours ever again.

Chapter 2

A week later, I was sitting on my couch at home, watching to the Saturday night college football game of the week. Babe, my bloodhound, and Mittens, my Maltese, were stretched out in the middle of the living room floor, sound asleep. I was wearing a blue T-shirt, my penguin pajama bottoms, and a purple pair of slipper socks. Stories under consideration for next week’s newspapers were all around me on the couch. Next to my Dr Pepper on the coffee table was Debra Cosgrove’s will, still in the large envelope, unopened. It had been several months since I had killed her in self-defense, and I still carried the guilt. Friends and family kept reminding me that I had done the right thing. If I hadn’t shot her, she would have killed not only me, but T.J. and an FBI agent, Richard Hopkins. Maybe the guilt wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t for the fact that Debra was also my half-aunt.

Sighing, I took a drink and turned my attention back to my work. As I started to get into a story about a new owner taking over the local animal shelter, there was a knock on the front door. Mittens jumped up and ran to the door, barking her head off. Babe raised her head, looked at the door, and flopped back down. So much for that killer guard dog instinct...who am I kidding? She’s never had that.

I got up, took Mittens into my arms, and unlocked the door. When I opened it, I was surprised to see Dale Gordon, owner of the Brookdale News, standing there. What are you doing here? I thought you were in the middle of nowhere, hiding from humanity.

Are you going to let me in or are you going to let me freeze on your front porch?

Oh, get in here, you big baby. It’s not that cold out there, I said, stepping aside so he could come in. Closing and locking the door behind him, I put Mittens back down, and she went over and put her front paws on Dale’s left leg. He leaned over and scratched behind her ears. So, what can I do for you, Dale? Is this a social call? How long are you planning on staying this time?

It’s good to see you too, Lizzie. Tough day at the office?

No more than usual. Would you like something to drink?

Water will be fine, thanks, he replied, taking off his coat and hanging it on the front doorknob. When I came back with his water, he was sitting in my brown suede recliner, and Mittens was in his lap.

I handed him the bottle, sat down on the couch, and waited for him to take a drink. So, what’s new? I asked.

I came by to talk to you about the newspaper.

What about it?

I’m still planning on selling it.

Jake will be happy to hear that.

Why do you say that? he said, looking puzzled.

You told me you were going to sell the paper to him.

I said I was thinking about selling to Jake.

Did you change your mind?

No, I’m still going to sell the paper...just not to Jake.

What?!

Let me rephrase that, Dale said. I’m not going to sell him the majority stake.

I see, I said. So, you’ve been gone all this time trying to find someone to buy the majority share?

I have someone in mind, he said cryptically, I just haven’t talked to them about it yet.

There was a sharp pain over my right eye, and I gently rubbed it. Dale, I have a lot of work to do, and you’re starting to give me a headache. Would you please hurry up and get to the point?

Grouchy tonight, aren’t you? I glared at him. I plan on offering Jake a twenty percent share of the newspaper, and I’m offering the other eighty percent to you.

My mouth fell open. Excuse me?

I’m offering you the majority stake in the paper.

Are you crazy? I don’t have that kind of money, Dale. I don’t think I could even get a big enough mortgage on the house to cover what you’re going to ask for it.

Why would you need to mortgage the house?

Because I’m as poor as a church mouse! What kind of stupid question is that?

Have you read Debra’s will yet?

I glanced guiltily at the envelope by my glass before shaking my head. I’ve been busy.

Didn’t you get the messages I left you this week, asking you to read it?

I told you, I’ve been busy!

Read it. Right now.

Reluctantly, I leaned forward, grabbed the long envelope and opened it. "I, Debra Leighanne King Cosgrove, being of sound mind and body..." I looked up at Dale. Who is she kidding? She was as crazy as a rabid raccoon! This isn’t going to stand up in a court of law.

She submitted to a psychiatric examination, and was declared sane.

I wonder how much she paid for that diagnosis, I muttered under my breath.

Keep reading, he ordered.

"...being of sound mind and body, do hereby declare that this is my last will and testament. I will make this short and simple. I leave all my worldly possessions, including a bank account in Brookdale, Texas, a bank account in New York City, New York, as well all contents of my safety deposit boxes in various locations (detailed in a separate letter), and access to an overseas account in London, England, to my half-niece, Elizabeth Crenshaw. The grand total of these various accounts comes to roughly..." I sputtered to a stop. She’s joking, right?

Dale shook his head. We went over all of her accounts with her lawyer and her accountant. That amount is correct. She did set aside enough to cover inheritance taxes, so you won’t have to worry about that.

I can’t accept that money, Dale! It’s blood money, I said, throwing the will back on the coffee table.

She knew you’d react that way. Check the envelope again; there’s a letter in there for you.

Sighing, I picked up the envelope again and looked inside. Sure enough, there was a white envelope with my name written on it. I opened and began to read it silently:

Dear Lizzie,

If you’re reading this, well, obviously things didn’t work out like I had hoped, and I’m dead. Hopefully, Dale followed my directions and scattered my ashes where I asked him to. If not, I’ll come back and haunt him until the day he dies.

And, if you’re reading this letter, then that means you’ve read the will, and you told him there’s no way you’re going to take the money because of how I got it. There’s nothing I can do about that, and I’m not going to apologize for what I did.

However, I took the majority of the money and invested it. The money in Brookdale, London and the safety deposit boxes was for emergencies. There’s not much in the boxes, maybe a million or so. Donate it to a good cause if you want.

I’m leaving everything to you, Lizzie, because I know you’ll do something good with it. Dale has told me of his plans, and I’m sure after you get over the initial disgust of the implications of this will, you’ll take him up on his offer. If you don’t, then you’re an idiot. He’s giving you the opportunity of a lifetime, and you’d seriously be a fool not to take it. Be your own boss, girl, or retire to some island and write the next Great American Novel. You now have the chance to do whatever your heart desires. If you want a few suggestions, might I suggest a new car (since that ratty old truck of Amos’ is now toast), and a bigger house? One with a big office, with a window overlooking a beautiful backyard garden with lots of shade trees for that lazy bloodhound of yours to sleep under. Don’t let the money go to waste. Or I’ll come back and haunt you, too."

I looked at Dale. She’s joking, right? He shook his head. But...

Lizzie, she wasn’t always a bad person. I arched an eyebrow at that comment. Ok, so she wasn’t as pure as the driven snow, but when she wrote that, she was trying to do something right.

What are you doing mixed up in this, Dale? I’m having a hard time picturing the two of you as friends.

Friends we were not, Dale told me. More like united in common misery, mainly because of Dorothy. Dorothy was Dale’s late wife. She had suffered a serious head injury during a car accident that also killed their only child, Elizabeth. Dorothy’s whole personality changed, and her family put her away in a sanitarium for her own safety. Debra helped her escape, and Dorothy had killed someone, and had tried to kill both of us before she had been killed. She wanted some advice, and I agreed to listen. When she had her will written, I agreed to be a witness, and I’m also the executor of her estate.

Somehow I wasn’t surprised by any of this. The whole situation with Debra had been one of the weirdest times of my life, and nothing I was eager to go through or relive any time soon...or ever. Have you talked to Jake about this yet?

Actually, I might have given him the impression that I was planning on selling the paper to you.

When did you tell him that?

Shortly after I told you that I was thinking about selling it to him.

You were trying to play us off each other?

I guess it does sound that way, doesn’t it? Sorry about that. After talking to Debra the first time, before she drew up her will, I sat down and thought about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life. I realized I didn’t have a reason to stay here anymore. Plenty of places to go and see, things I’ve always wanted to do, but never dared, because I felt guilty about having a life while Dorothy was locked away in the nuthouse, and my daughter was gone. Having you working with me at the newspaper was definitely an eye opener, too. You always have fresh new ideas about things we can do to make the paper more up to date.

I didn’t think you noticed.

Dale took a long drink of water before commenting. I noticed more than you think I did, Lizzie. You care about the paper, about the type of stories we tell, and you care about the people who work there. That’s not my style. Since you and Jake took over, circulation has picked up and so has the ad revenue.

A lot of the credit goes to Jake, I replied. I just followed his lead.

Maybe at first. But my spies tell me that you handled yourself just fine, and you learned things pretty quick.

I really think you need to be talking to Jake about this, Dale.

Lizzie, stop selling yourself short, Dale said sharply. Jake is more a money man. He knows what to say to get someone to spend money. He was raised in that world. He doesn’t understand how to treat people with kid gloves, or how to take people’s feelings into account before writing a story. Whatever story is going to sell the most papers, that’s what he’s interested in. It’s like you said during the Norwell investigation: we shouldn’t write a story without knowing all the facts. Our job is to learn the truth, the whole truth, and print that. We’re not going to ruin someone’s life. That’s what you care about, and that’s the way it should be.

I rubbed my face. This is crazy.

Possibly.

Picking up my glass, I took a drink of Dr Pepper, which was flat and watered down from the melted ice. Jake isn’t going to be happy about this, I replied, putting my glass down on the coaster.

Probably not.

Are you sure about this? About selling me the paper?

He nodded. I’m sure. It’s time. I want to go salmon fishing in Alaska, walk around the Louvre in Paris, maybe even go to the Holy Land. Whatever I decide to do, I’m going to enjoy myself. Maybe I’ll write a book about my travels. Who knows?

I rubbed my right thumb back and forth across the palm of my left hand, something I did sometimes when I was trying to make a big decision. There has to be some ground rules laid out, Dale. I don’t want there to be any misunderstanding about what my responsibilities will be at the paper. If he finds even a tiny loophole, he’ll walk right through it.

I’ve had the same thoughts, and I’ve got some things written down, he said, putting Mittens on the floor as he stood up. Grab a notepad and pen. We’ll sit at the kitchen table and work this out.

Shouldn’t we include Jake in this discussion?

I went by his house earlier, but he wasn’t there.

I haven’t seen him much since the fiasco last Saturday night.

Do I even want to know? Dale asked.

Evening gown, a guy who got too grabby, and a well-placed knee. That about sums up that night.

I don’t need to know any more than that, thank you very much. You let me handle Jake. Pour yourself a fresh Dr Pepper, Lizzie. You’re about to become a business owner, Dale said, leading the way into the kitchen.

Me, a business owner? This can’t be a good idea, right?

Chapter 3

I met Dale at the bank on Monday morning. The plan was to gain access to Debra’s account and safe deposit box, and transfer the funds into my personal account. I was thinking about keeping the deposit box, if possible. It would be a good idea to have a rainy day fund.

When we walked in, I was surprised to see Angel Ramirez manning the front desk. What are you doing here? I said as I bent over and gave her a hug. Shouldn’t you be at home or at the hospital already?

She laughed. I wish! But this little baby girl is taking it her sweet time.

Girls are always fashionably late.

One week past my due date is long enough, thank you, she replied. What can I do for you?

We need to get into a safe deposit box, I said, showing her the paperwork.

Angel read the legal document and looked up at me. Wow, really? I nodded. I wonder what’s in the box. Maybe it’s her hit list.

Let’s hope not. Is there someone who can take us to the vault room?

She put her hands on the arms of the chair and pushed herself up. I will.

Mrs. Ramirez, you shouldn’t strain yourself, Dale said, moving behind her and pulling the chair out of her way.

Walking will be good for me, Angel reassured him. It might help induce labor.

Dale’s face turned ghostly white, and for a second, I thought he was going to pass out right there in the lobby. He stayed on the other side of me, staying as far away from Angel as he could. I think if Angel had said boo at him, he would have screamed louder than a girl in a horror flick and run away.

Debra’s box turned out to be one of the biggest boxes in the vault. Located close to the bottom, Angel started to bend over to put her key in the lock, but Dale and I stopped her. He took the key from her, and the two of us opened the box and pulled it out. We picked it up and put it on the table.

I stared at it for a minute. The box wasn’t that long, but it was very deep. Maybe Angel was right about Debra’s hit list being in the box. Or maybe there were some weapons in there. If there were, I certainly wasn’t going to keep them. I’d turn them over to Owen, and he could do what he wanted with them.

Whatever’s in there isn’t going to bite you, Lizzie, Dale said. Just open it already.

I took a deep breath and pulled the lid up. There were some spiral notebooks, the kind I used when I was in school, a couple