Until Death by Alicia Rasley

Author:Alicia Rasley
Language: ara, eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BelleBooks, Inc.
Published: 2013-11-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

CLOSE PERUSAL OF the police report yielded nothing new, except that they’d worked really hard not to notice anything non-accidental about the fall. I knew I didn’t have enough to convince the police. Not even enough to scare the insurance company. I had no choice. I had to confront Wanda and get her to confess on tape. Hey, maybe it would work. Maybe she was proud of it. Maybe she’d brag about it.

So, though the very notion made my insides squish weakly, I planned this next—and, I hoped, last—phase of my investigation. As Mike Warren warned me, if there was a murderer, anyone who knew would be in danger. Caution was in order. I would meet her in a public place. And I’d leave word where I was and what I was doing, just in case.

First I typed out a letter laying out my plan to meet Wanda and all the evidence against her. I shoved it into an envelope and wrote on it, “In the event that I die or disappear.” Then, as I was about to write my attorney’s name on it, I hesitated. She was the sort of well-meaning buttinsky who would open it right away, and then I’d get a call suggesting a shrink to deal with this little paranoia problem of mine. So I scrawled Dr. Warren across the envelope. He knew about my plans to nab Wanda, so this letter would not give him any pause. And he already thought I was paranoid.

Besides, I’d promised to let him know if I planned anything he might consider rash.

This, I knew, he’d consider rash.

Then I made the call. I just said, “This is Megan Ross. I have something important to discuss. Meet me at noon in the food court of the Eastwood mall?”

Wanda’s response was hard, immediate, and predictable. “Why?”

“It’s about how Don died. Or would you prefer me to take it to the police?”

“You’d do something that stupid? Okay. Okay. You better come alone.”

“You too. I don’t want to see that bruiser boyfriend hanging around the parking lot.”

She hung up hard, and I gathered up the envelope and my phone. First stop was Mike’s office to leave the envelope. The receptionist cringed away, her hand on the phone. “The doctor isn’t here. He’s got rounds at the psychiatric ward this morning.”

Good. Now I could say honestly that I tried to hand this to him personally, but he was gone. I waved a farewell and headed out to meet a murderer.

Wanda was late. She was trying to make me sweat. I wasn’t going to play her game, so I got up and got in line at the Steak and Shake stand. Only when I had an iced tea in my hand did I walk back towards the table I’d staked out next to the potted tree.

And there she was. There was a Nordstrom’s bag in her hand and that hard look on her face. We took our seats in silence. We stared at each other, neither offering a greeting.

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