“Carl’s doctor is a very old friend,” she continued. “I told him that Carl passed peacefully, at home with me, and I asked him for a favor. He gave me the death certificate and I ordered the headstone.” She rested the shotgun across her lap. “Carl is where he was meant to be, and that’s all that’s important now. When people ask for him, we’ll explain that he passed quietly with his family and he didn’t want any fuss. There’s no reason for anyone to go looking for him.”
“Maybe not, but they’ll be looking for your daughter,” I argued. “Theresa violated her house arrest. The police are actively searching for her, and they know Aimee is with her. They can’t hide here forever.”
“No, they can’t,” she agreed. “We’ve already discussed it. Theresa will turn herself over to the authorities tomorrow. When they ask why she ran, she’ll simply say that Feliks threatened her and she feared for her life. If she turns herself in and follows through with her plea bargain as planned, the DA isn’t likely to bring up any new charges against her. Her testimony is too important to the prosecution’s case.”
Theresa paled. Mrs. Westover closed a hand over her daughter’s. Aimee looked like she might be sick. “I don’t want to go back,” Theresa whispered to her mother, her lower lip trembling. “What if Aimee and I leave town instead? She has all that money she cashed out of her accounts. Enough for us to live on for a while.”
“One hundred grand could go a long way,” Vero agreed. “Especially if you don’t have to give it to someone else.”
Theresa pulled a face. “What are you talking about?”
Aimee turned away.
“Theresa doesn’t know, does she?” I asked.
Aimee’s wide eyes leapt between Vero’s and mine and her voice shook. “What do you mean?”
“We know you’re FedUp,” Vero said. “We know you tried to hire someone to murder Steven.”
Aimee’s mouth fell open. Theresa’s brow pinched as she pivoted toward her friend. “Aimee, what is she talking about?”
“I don’t know,” Aimee stammered. “I mean, I am fed up with Steven. He’s a total asshole, and he wouldn’t let me see Delia and Zach, but I never asked anyone to hurt him!”
“Check her phone,” Vero insisted. “You’ll see. She’ll have an email from Anonymous2 with pictures of the crime scene. Oh, by the way,” Vero said, turning to Aimee, “in case you haven’t figured it out, Steven’s not coming to your little ambush, so you can send a message to EasyClean and tell them the deal’s off.”
Theresa gasped. Tears sprang to her eyes. “Steven’s dead? Who’s EasyClean? Aimee, what are they talking about?”
“I have no idea!” Aimee cried.
Theresa lunged for Aimee’s phone. She scrolled, her eyes glistening as they moved over the screen. “I don’t see anything. There’s nothing here but text messages back and forth to her husband.” Theresa turned to Aimee with a look of disgust. “You’ve been texting your husband? You told me no one knew we were here!”
“I’m sorry!” Aimee said. “He kept messaging me! He said he missed me and he was worried!”
“Your husband is the king of all assholes, Aimee! I guarantee the only thing he was worried about was the money you cashed out of your joint accounts to help me! You’re not seriously considering giving it back to him!”
Aimee winced.
Vero grabbed the phone from Theresa. “There has to be a message here. I sent it myself. There were pictures and everything.” Aimee and Theresa stared at Vero with stunned expressions as she scrolled through Aimee’s phone. She pushed the cell phone back across the table. “I don’t understand. If you’re not FedUp, then who ordered the hit on Steven?”
“And who set up the meeting?” I asked.
“What meeting?” Theresa, Aimee, and Mrs. Westover asked in unison.
We all turned toward the front window as headlights cut through the trees. A pickup truck rolled up the long gravel driveway toward the house, triggering the motion sensors on the front porch lights as it slowed to a stop. The engine cut off and the headlamps extinguished. The dim light of a cell phone screen illuminated the driver in a soft blue glow as he typed a quick message. He squinted up at the house as his screen went dark.
Vero’s phone vibrated. The screen lit with an email from FedUp. Vero held it up for me to read.