“No wonder that guy was able to climb the administrative ladder,” Rex said after seeing Goodhue out of the door of his condo. “That was an amazing tap dance he performed until he left it up to us to decide what we do next. He’s now up to speed on our progress while still being able to claim plausible deniability should whatever we decide to do blow up in our face.”
Marla could no longer stay seated. “Is that what that was? Every time I expected—needed—guidance, he turned it back on me or you.”
He joined her where she had lighted, behind one side of the sectional. “So? What do we want to do?” he asked.
“I want to go for it. Confront Brecken as soon as we can about his paternity. He won’t be expecting us to come at him the same day.”
He studied her to the point where she wondered if she still had some of her lunch on her face. He took her hands in his. “I take my hat off to your chutzpah. And I’m talking to Marla Dane now, not Letitia Carruthers. That’s what I was hoping you’d say. This could be dangerous if he’s our boy and doesn’t want to be caught.”
She squeezed his hands. “I know. But we survived a killer’s wrath once before. We can do it again if it arises.”
They texted Goodhue with their decision to move on Brecken Wallace and their intended whereabouts.
They tried to catch Brecken at his house first and, when he wasn’t there, went to Grace’s instead.
“He’s still at work,” she told them. “Haven’t you asked enough questions for one day?”
“Just a few more,” Rex assured her. “I could’ve asked her not to call ahead and warn him we’re on our way,” he told Marla once they were back in the SUV, “but that might’ve raised her alarm.”
After they left Grace’s house, Marla texted Goodhue that they were headed to Brecken’s landscaping business, gave him the address and asked him to meet them there as soon as he and his people could get there.
Wallace Landscaping was located off the main drag in West St. Paul. The front office looked like any ordinary one-story brick office building. The garages and equipment were behind, away from street view. At nearly six in the evening, the front door was already locked, so they made their way around to the back.
Brecken saw them approaching but remained just inside the door of one garage that housed two service vans. The back door of one was open.
“I’ll say this for you two. You may not have found my wife’s killer yet, but you sure put in long days.”
“We think we’re close,” Rex told him. “But first we have a question for you.”
Marla took over from there. “Are you Chloe Reardon’s father?”
Brecken took a half a step back but then caught himself. “What a strange question. How does my answering that get you any closer to finding Eloise’s killer?”
“Just answer the question, Wallace,” Rex said unemotionally.
“No. I don’t know what that has to do with anything, but no.”
There it was, the denial they didn’t want. Twice. Time to apply the screws.
Marla continued. “If that’s the case, perhaps you can explain your personal interest in her life, in particular her arrangement with Eloise to stay in the Essy apartment rent-free in return for serving as its hostess.”
Brecken shrugged. “Nothing to explain. She’s a good kid. I was concerned about what was in her best interest.”
“Funny,” Rex went on, not backing away from the question, “because she described your interest like that of a father, although she didn’t know exactly what that would be like because she’d never known her father.”
“I can’t speak for Chloe.”
“But you tried to, when you bounded off in search of your ex to tell her what you thought of her deal with Chloe,” Marla said. “She wasn’t there then, but you must’ve caught up with her later and she laughed in your face. Probably told you it was none of your business and that she had Chloe under her wing if you tried to warn her.”
“That’s …”
She didn’t let him finish. “Or maybe she already knew you were her father and threatened to tell Chloe if you tried to interfere with their arrangement. As much as you may have wanted to tell Chloe yourself, you’ve been afraid she’d reject you for not coming forward all these years. That’s why you’ve been attempting to ingratiate yourself with her, helping her become more familiar with you before you told her. But Eloise would have none of it. She wanted to make you pay because you not only left her, but you aligned yourself with her perceived enemy, Grace Adamson. When Eloise refused to budge and bragged about having Chloe under her control, you snapped. You couldn’t risk your daughter becoming a carbon copy of Eloise. You had to get rid of her, and what better place to start the process than on her beloved pickleball court?”
“You’re blowing smoke, Ms. Dane. You’re no longer some PI on TV, so stop trying to be her.”
That was his best comeback? To mock her? They had him.
They let her words—pretty good words that no one else had written for her—hang in the air, a silent threat.
“You’ve said what you came to say. Now leave,” Brecken said, still denying their claim.
But Rex wasn’t to be swayed. “We’ve given you the courtesy of telling us yourself, but there are other ways we can make our case. We’re already doing a records check. It shouldn’t take long to prove your paternity, although that may involve DNA comparisons. Is that how you want Chloe to learn who you really are?”
“You can’t make me provide my DNA,” a stone-faced Brecken mumbled.
“Actually, we can once we obtain a warrant. That takes a little longer, but we’ll see to it that you can’t leave town while we wait. And should news that you are our Number One suspect somehow leak, well, we can’t control the impact that may have on your clients.”
“That’s … that’s … we’ll just see what my attorney has to say about your obvious threat.”
“Good idea. Have him or her on speed dial to review the search warrants coming your way as we prove you killed your ex-wife. Warrants to search your house, your vehicles and this property for any evidence of poison, duplicate water bottles and any other incriminating items are already underway.”
“But all sorts of chemicals are part of my business. You can’t use them against me.”
Rex turned to Marla. “Pretty good cover, wouldn’t you say? Hide behind your business.”
With that aside, Rex had thrown it back in her court. But she’d played her best card. Or had she? The strongest reaction they’d gotten from Brecken so far had been his refusal to provide his DNA. Perhaps he was just protecting his individual rights, but on the other hand …
“Still not ready to reveal your paternity? Perhaps we should start with Chloe instead? Of course, she’ll want to know why and …”
“Shut up! Both of you. Bet you’ve never been a parent—or discovered you had a child when they were almost grown and were unable to tell them you were their dad because their mother begged you not to stir the waters. The pain is excruciating. It only gets worse when your shrew of a wife finds out and uses it against you.”
Maybe that DNA comparison wouldn’t be necessary after all.
Before they could follow up on his confession, though, he brought out a handgun he must have had tucked in the back of his pants. “Too bad you’re so smart. You’ve given me no choice.” With his gun hand, he gestured to the van next to him, the one with its door already open. “Get in. First, leave your phones here.”
A gun. The one thing they hoped wouldn’t happen, since they were unarmed. Goodhue and his people would be, but they hadn’t arrived yet. They’d have to gut this out. Somehow.
“You don’t need to do this, Wallace,” said Rex, the former cop trained in talking down killers. “Whatever you plan to do with us will only make the charges worse for you.”
“I said to shut up!” Brecken shouted, his face gone as red as Rex’s SUV.
Marla fought to restrain her shaking with little success. “This will never unite you with Chloe,” she said over the lump in her throat.
“Don’t use my daughter as a shield,” he cried.
They didn’t have any other option, other than to pray Goodhue would arrive soon. Rex climbed in first, then helped Marla up. The vehicle was lined on both sides with shelves full of various cans and boxes filled with landscaping and lawn care products, leaving only a two-foot-wide aisle between them. Thanks to three bags of mulch blocking the aisle, they only had about four feet in which to stand.
Not another close-quarters prison like the last time. Surely he’s not going to bind us up with duct tape? They hadn’t done so well escaping that one on their own. Now what?
Brecken followed behind but didn’t get inside. Instead, he set a can of something just inside the door and ripped off the plug.
The thud of the door slamming shut echoed inside her head.
Rex threw himself against the door, attempting to open it again, but Brecken must have blocked it from the outside.
What was in that can?
The answer became suffocatingly apparent within seconds as the space around them began to mist up. A bug bomb! Lethal insecticide seeped into what was left of the interior space.
They both started coughing, and their eyes began to water.
How much time did they have before they succumbed to the fog? Or died?
Think, Marla! Letitia never faced a fogger. This one was up to her.
They had to stop the outflow, but Brecken had probably taken the plug with him. It probably couldn’t be reinserted anyhow. She removed one of her sneakers and covered the top of the can.
The shoe seemed to reduce the flow, but some was still escaping.
Rex pulled a handkerchief from somewhere and covered her face with it.
No time for modesty. She removed her top and stuck it over her head, giving him back his handkerchief. Rex did the same with his own shirt. Both garments would help but not for long.
From what little she could see through the tiny slit in her top, Rex had located a large flowerpot and stuck that over her shoe and the can.
Before she’d covered her face with her top, she’d noted a hoe and shovel along the wall. She’d grabbed the hoe and given Rex the shovel, and they both began banging on the door, praying someone besides Brecken would hear them.
Within minutes, wooziness set in. She tried to remain standing by holding on to the outside wall along the shelf in front of her as she hit the door, but she couldn’t fight the overwhelming blackness setting in.
She sank to the floor a couple of seconds ahead of Rex. His body covered most of hers.
The next thing she knew, she came to abruptly when someone kept calling her name.
“Ms. Dane? Can you hear me?”
“Uh …”
“Don’t sit up. Just lie there a bit longer.”
A few seconds later, she was whisked away in what must have been an ambulance. She could hear the sirens blaring. Though she didn’t pass out, she was only vaguely aware of what was happening. The bug bomb! Someone had come to their rescue. She’d thought she and Rex were goners. Rex? Where was he?
The next few hours passed in a blur, though she remained conscious. Her lungs and the rest of her body fortunately had not been severely damaged, but the doctors wanted her to stay in the hospital overnight.
“Will you please stop scaring me like that!” Kitty pleaded as soon as she entered the room they’d put her in. “I’ve only got one sibling, and that’s you.”
“They … called …?”
“Me, of course. I’m your emergency contact. Don’t talk. They’re still worried about your larynx maybe sustaining damage.”
“Bug …”
“I told you, don’t talk. Yes, I’ve heard a bug bomb nearly did you and Rex in.”
“Rex?”
“You are so bad at following orders. Yes, Rex is here also, protesting that he’s fine and doesn’t need to stay overnight for observation. His daughter, Cathie, is here trying to shut him up just as I’m doing with you. I hope you know you interrupted Hub’s pie-baking lesson. He came along with me, delighted to be included in this police business.”
“Marla? You really had me scared this time,” Chief Goodhue said from the door. “Good thing you texted me all the info. Got there just in time, too. We heard noises coming from one of his vans, but then they stopped suddenly. We got you both out of there as soon as we could.”
“Wallace?” she managed to get out, though it hurt her throat.
“Took off, but we caught him on his way to Canada. He’s been claiming he hadn’t seen you and Rex. And when we accused him of forcing you into his van and setting off a fogger, he swore he had no knowledge of you even being there, that you must have gotten trapped inside the van and inadvertently touched the bug bomb.”
Marla tried to shake her head but stopped when it started to throb.
“That’s all you need to know for now. You and Rex are safe, and we’ve got Wallace behind bars. Rest up. We’ll talk more tomorrow once the doctors give you the go-ahead.” He headed for the door but turned before leaving. “Good job. Both of you.”