The Death Card: A Liz Lucas Cozy Mystery Read online

  Leroy swallowed and said, “I’d like to ask you some questions about Seth Williams.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know anyone by that name,” she said closing the door.

  “Better open that door, or I’ll arrest you,” he said in a loud voice. “It’s against the law here in Red Cedar to conduct any type of psychic business without a license from the city. That includes palm readers, crystal ball gazers, fortune-tellers, tarot card readers, and numerous other types of phony scams. I checked you out before I came out here, and you don’t have a valid license according to the records at city hall.”

  Madame Dika immediately opened the door, and Leroy walked in and looked around. “Always wondered what these fortune tellin’ places looked like,” he said.

  “This is not a fortune-telling place. I am a tarot card reader, and my qualifications are impeccable. I’m from a distinguished line of tarot card readers in Romania, the finest in the world. We are not fortune tellers,” she said haughtily.

  “Whatever. I want to know about your meetins’ with Seth. I know he comes out here a lot, and you gotta know somethin’ about him. I’m thinkin’ of runnin’ for police chief against him, and if you got any dirt on him, I want to know all about it.”

  “Number one, I don’t have any dirt as you call it on him and number two, why would I tell you anything about a client? That’s privileged information.”

  “There,” Leroy said. “You just admitted he was a client of yours. That’s a start. Here’s the thing. I came into a little money yesterday. Longshot pony I was bettin’ heavy on came in, and I got some what do you call it? Oh yeah, got me some disposable cash I’m willin’ to share with you for a little information. How does five thousand dollars sound in exchange for that information I want?”

  “You’ll have to leave. There is nothing I can tell you about Chief Williams. You can’t possibly think I’d take a bribe from you and tell you about a client of mine.”

  “Lady, don’t think you’re legit. In fact, I suspect you’re a complete fraud stealing money from unsuspectin’ dupes. It wouldn’t bother me none to close you down and arrest you for violatin’ the city ordinance that regulates folks like you. Don’t know what you’re practicin’ out here but be willin’ to bet it ain’t legit. So let’s make a deal. You tell me about Seth, and I don’t run you in.”

  She opened the door and indicated he should leave. “I want you to get out of my house. What I do is an art, not some kind of witchcraft, and I would never tell you anything about a client of mine.”

  “I’ll leave for now but I want you to think ‘bout what I said. Let me put it this way, you don’t tell me somethin’ by tomorrow night, then I’m comin’ out here and haulin’ you in. Here’s my phone number. After you think about it, I’m sure you’ll change your mind. Jail ain’t a real nice place for a looker like you. Funny things happen in there,” he said smirking as he walked out the door. “Talk to you soon, Madame Dika.”

  *****

  As soon as he drove away, Madame Dika picked up her phone and pressed in a number. “Yes, Madelina? What is it?” a voice on the other end asked.

  Tears streamed down her face as she tried to talk, “Annntttonnn, he’s going to arrest me.”

  “Stop crying and tell me what you’re talking about. Who is going to arrest you and for what?”

  She took a deep breath, blew her nose, and said, “A deputy police chief was here demanding that I tell him about my sessions with Seth Williams, the Red Cedar chief of police. I refused, and he said if I didn’t tell him by tomorrow night, he’d arrest me for violating a city ordinance that requires me to be licensed. He even offered me five thousand dollars as a bribe.”

  “That’s a lot of money. Wonder where a deputy chief of police in a small podunk town like Red Cedar gets money like that. What did you tell him?”

  “I told him to get out. I told him what I did was an art, not some form of witchcraft. He said he had a longshot horse come in yesterday and it paid big.”

  “All right, Madelina, I’ll take care of it for you. Don’t worry about it. What’s his name?”

  “He said it was Leroy Moore, and he was the deputy chief of police in Red Cedar. What are you going to do? He told me bad things happen to people in jail. Anton, I can’t go to jail.”

  “You don’t need to know what I’m going to do. All you need to do is continue with your readings. You won’t be seeing him again.”

  “I hope you’re right. If I was arrested, he’d probably find out about the time I spent in prison, and I can’t go back there. If it hadn’t been for you paying people off when I was in prison, I don’t know what would have happened to me while I was in there.”

  “Madalina, I told you not to worry about it. I’ll take care of you. You don’t need to know the specifics. All you need to know is that he’ll never bother you again.”

  “Oh, Anton. I’m so lucky to have a brother like you. What would I do without you? Thank you. You’re really sure I’ll never see him again?”

  “Yes, I’m very sure.”

  Relieved, Madame Dika hung up the phone. Moments later, disquieting thoughts began filling her mind.

  What if Anton can’t do anything? What if he’s just saying that? We haven’t been getting along lately. What if I’m arrested and I go to prison again? What if mother finds out? I promised her I would never disappoint her again. It almost killed her when she found out I went to prison for that little incident in Los Angeles. I can’t have that happen. Anton is my brother, but I know he’s not the most reliable person. I suppose the only person I can really count on is me. I better take care of this. I can’t go to prison again.

  She heard the sound of a car door closing, and she quickly got ready for her next reading.

  CHAPTER 3

  Leroy had just left Madame Dika’s when his cell phone rang. He looked at the monitor and saw the name “Ratface.” He was tempted to ignore the call, but he knew from past experiences Ratface would just continue to call him. He pulled over to the side of the road and took the call.

  “Hey, Ratface. Got any hot tips for me?” he asked.

  “Only hot tip I got for you is to tell you one last time you better get the money to me, or there won’t be any more tips for you. Ever. This is the last time I’m asking you for the five grand you owe me. No more playing the ponies with me if I don’t have it by tonight. Understand?”

  “Look, Ratface, I’ve got a sure thing goin’ this afternoon,” Leroy pleaded. “I’ll be able to pay you, no problem. This thing I have goin’ should make me a lot of money. Guy gave me a tip on a horse. He’s guaranteed me I can’t lose. Give me until tomorrow night. Once I win I’ll have to go into San Francisco to pick up the money. Horse is running at Golden Gate Fields. I’ll get the money to you as soon as I get it. Promise.” He held his breath waiting for Ratface’s answer.

  “This is your last chance, policeman. If I don’t have the money by tomorrow evening, you won’t ever have to worry about making a bet again, because you won’t be alive to make it. Do I make myself clear?

  “Very. You’ll have the money by then.”

  After he ended the call, he sat for a moment, his heart pounding so loudly in his chest he could barely hear the traffic as it passed by his car. His thoughts were a jumble, trying to figure out how he could get the money. He’d told Ratface he had a sure bet, but what he didn’t tell him was that he needed the five thousand dollars to pay Madame Dika for her information, and he couldn’t use it to bet on the sure thing horse at Golden Gate Fields. As he was sitting in his car frantically trying to think of a solution he remembered being notified awhile ago that Tom Rice was on parole. An idea began to form in his mind, a way to not only get rid of his debt to Ratface but to get rid of Ratface himself. He was desperate to get out from under the debt he owed Ratface, and if he had to take some risky chances, so be it.

  A few minutes later he pulled into the police station parking lot and walked down the hall to his office. He tu
rned on his computer and pulled up the file on Tom Rice. He remembered it as if it had happened yesterday. He and Tom had made an agreement. Tom told him when Leroy arrested him for beating his wife that if he didn’t tell anyone about the narcotics Leroy found in his trailer, the amount of which made it apparent that Tom had been dealing drugs, he would do any favor Leroy needed once he got out of prison. Leroy decided it was time to take him up on his offer.

  He found the contact information in the file the parole officer had sent to him. Tom was living in San Francisco and had found work on the docks. He was a big man and big men were always welcome at the port. It was Saturday around noon, and he hoped Tom wasn’t working and was at home.

  Leroy pressed Tom’s number into his cell phone so there wouldn’t be a record of it on the police station’s phone. In a moment a deep voice answered, “Tom Rice here.”

  “Tom, it’s been a few years. This is Leroy Moore. You probably remember me. I was the policeman who arrested you for beating up your wife a few years ago. You might also remember that I didn’t mention the drugs I found in your trailer. At the time you tol’ me you’d be happy to help me when you got out. Matter of fact, I ‘member you said you owed me one. Well, think I need to collect on it.”

  “Yeah, I remember. Just out of curiosity, how did you find me?”

  “Your parole officer sent me the information after you were released from prison. I kind of forgot ‘bout it ‘til now. I need you to take care of somethin’ for me. You won’t need to travel very far. What I need done is right there in Frisco.”

  “All right. Tell me what it is. A deal’s a deal, and since you kept your end of it, I’ll keep mine.”

  Leroy told him he wanted Ratface to go away. He didn’t care how Tom did it, he just wanted Ratface out of his life permanently. Leroy gave him Ratface’s telephone number and suggested Tom call him and tell him something had come up, and Leroy couldn’t meet with him. He told him to tell Ratface that he had the money Leroy owed him and to make an appointment with him the following evening. He told him he didn’t care what happened then, in fact he’d rather not know.

  “You don’t even need to think about it. I’ll take care of it for you and then my debt to you will be paid in full. Right?”

  “Yep, that’s right. Don’t ever need to see each other again.”

  “Fine by me. Good night,” Tom said, ending the call and putting his phone on the table next to his chair.

  I can’t believe that stupid cop thinks I’d do a favor for him. Yeah, might have told him that when I was arrested, but he’s the reason Lily took all the drugs and divorced me. That’s not even including the time I spent in prison. And this guy wants me to take care of someone for him. No way. No favors for the guy who put me in the big house. Think what I’ll do is call this Ratface guy and tell him what Leroy wanted me to do to him and then wipe my hands clean of the whole thing. Serve him right. He screwed up my life, might as well screw his up.

  He picked his phone up from the table and pressed in some numbers.

  CHAPTER 4

  When Liz arrived at the police station she saw that the chief’s police cruiser was already parked in front of the building. She parked and opened the van door for Winston. “Come on boy, I promised Roger you’d come with me. Normally I’d feel completely safe in a police station, and I wouldn’t need you, but Leroy probably felt the same way and look what happened to him.”

  They walked in and found Seth waiting for them in the reception area. “He’s down this way. Follow me,” Seth said as he started down the hall. Liz followed him through a door with the words “Deputy Police Chief” on it and saw Leroy slumped back in his chair, bright red blood on the desk and floor. She gasped. It was obvious from the location of the bullet hole that Leroy had been shot in the chest. Winston growled and stood as close to her as he could get, in full protection mode.

  “There’s a lot more blood here than I would have thought. I never did see Mark after he was killed, and the mayor’s wife didn’t have any blood around her,” Liz said.

  “Yeah, death ain’t never a purty sight.”

  “Seth, why don’t you call the sheriff and the coroner while I look around? I don’t think we want some stranger to walk into the station and find this.”

  “Ya’ got that right,” he said, pressing numbers into the phone. “Wes, looks like Leroy bit the big one. Better bring the wagon and come to the station.” A moment later she heard him talking to the sheriff. “It’s Seth, Keith. Gonna need your help. Looks like Leroy done gone and got hisself murdered. Don’t want anyone thinkin’ I’m tryin’ to do a cover up since a few people around town heard us arguin’. Thought you better handle the investigation of this case.” He listened a minute. “Yeah, I’m here at the station with Liz Lucas. We was gonna have a meetin’ ‘bout providin’ some special protection fer some guests of hers. See ya’ in a few.”

  While Seth was talking to them, Liz had been looking to see if anything seemed out of place or unusual. She noticed a day planner on Leroy’s desk. She opened it by inserting a pen from her purse in it so her fingerprints wouldn’t be on it and saw the name “Tom Rice” scrawled under today’s date.

  “Seth, who’s Tom Rice?” she asked. Seth had dropped down on the floor and was on his hands and knees looking to see if anything had rolled under the desk.

  “Name of a guy who went to prison a few years back. Leroy was the one who arrested him. Neighbor called and said there was a lot of yellin’ goin’ on out at the trailer park where he lived. Sure ‘nuf. Leroy went out there, looked in the window, and saw him beatin’ the tar out of his wife. Leroy arrested him, and he went to prison. Why do ya’ want to know?” he asked as he grabbed the desk for support in order to help him get his considerable weight off the floor.

  “That name is written under today’s date in the day planner on Leroy’s desk.”

  “Dunno why he’d write Rice’s name down. Guy was in prison for three years. Long gone. Maybe he was jes’ thinkin’ ‘bout old cases.”

  That seems odd. Think I better tell Roger about that. “Did you find anything under there?” she asked looking over at Winston, who was continuing to growl from deep in his throat.

  “Not a darned thing ‘cepting some dust bunnies. How ‘bout you?”

  She walked over to where Winston was pawing at the carpet. “Looks like Winston spotted some kind of a card on the floor. It looks like a playing card. Do you have any gloves? I’d like to pick it up, but I don’t want my fingerprints on it.”

  “Sure. We keep them in all the offices, jes’ in case we need to look at somethin’ and don’t want no fingerprints on it. Here ya’ go.”

  “Thanks,” she said, pulling a latex glove over her right hand and reaching for the card. She looked at it and then turned to Seth. “Were you in the room very long when you discovered Leroy?” she asked.

  “Nah. Looked in the door and saw he was deader ‘n a doornail. Why?”

  “Well, from what I remember from the only tarot card reading I’ve ever had, this is the death card. It shows a skeleton dressed in armor riding a white horse. I’m sure it’s the death card. Yes, it even says death on it in small letters. Did you pick it up at Madame Dika’s? You must have come in here and dropped it.”

  Seth walked over to where Liz was standing and looked at the card. He visibly paled. “Liz, that sure ‘nuf is the death card, but it ain’t mine. I tol’ you. I saw Leroy from the door. I was never in this room, and believe me, Madame Dika don’t let no one take one of her cards. That’s the truth. What do you think it means?”

  “I don’t know. If it’s not yours, it must have been Leroy’s. Did he go to her for readings?”

  “Not that I ever knew ‘bout. I slipped one day and mentioned I was goin’ out to her place after work. He thought that was ‘bout the funniest thing he’d ever heard. Never stopped teasin’ me ‘bout it. ‘Tol me he might be goin’ out there someday and arrest her for practicin’ witchcraft. Nah, he’d never go to
her for a readin’. He even thought people who did yoga were practicin’ a religion against God. He was really uptight ‘bout things like that. Didn’t believe in anything he thought was airy fairy or what do they call it these days, New Age? Naw, couldn’t be his.”

  “Seth, who cleans the police station, and when is it cleaned?”

  “We use the Susie Spit ‘N Polish group. They usually come in real early on Sunday mornin’s, so it’ll be clean fer the week.”

  “Well, if they were here this morning, and from the looks of the empty wastebasket, they were, then that means this card was dropped on the carpeting after they had been here. I’m assuming they vacuum when they come.”

  “Yeah, they always do that. Look real close, and you’ll see the row marks from the vacuum cleaner. That’s how I can always tell they’ve been here.”

  “In that case either the murderer or Leroy was responsible for the card being dropped on the floor. Let’s not say anything to the sheriff about this,” she said, putting the card in her purse along with the glove.

  They heard the sheriff’s voice and another voice. “We’re down the hall, Keith,” Seth yelled, walking out of the room. A moment later, a man with a sheriff’s badge walked into the room accompanied by his deputy. “Liz, this is Sheriff Keith Brown. Sheriff, this here’s Liz Lucas. She owns the Red Cedar Spa.”

  Keith extended his hand. “It’s nice to meet you Ms. Lucas. My wife and daughter have been to your spa several times and really enjoyed it. I understand you and Seth were meeting here to discuss some special protection for your guests. Is that when you discovered Leroy?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Seth said. “I saw Leroy’s car out front, but didn’t see him when I walked in. Ms. Lucas came in a moment later, and we found him in here, jes’ like this, lights out.”

  A man Liz recognized as the coroner from when the mayor’s wife had been murdered in one of her cottages at the spa walked into the room. “Hey, Wes. Jes’ like I ‘tol ya’ on the phone, Leroy here bit the big one.”