Page 160 of Murder on Charity Lane

“Imagine you’re rich,” Ocean told her. “You want to die painlessly, on your own schedule. So you hire someone. That’s what rich people do.”

“And yes, Pax,” Lily-Ann said, answering a question I’d forgotten he’d asked, “there is a suicide note.”

Mrs. B whimpered, pressing a palm to her chest. “Oh, that poor thing. So wait, Frank hired CJ? She killed him at his own request? If that’s the case…” When she turned to Karina, the grooves in her face seemed to deepen. “You really did see her push him. I’m so sorry, you were right all along.”

Her kindness seemed to loosen the anger in Karina, who began to cry. Sometimes you could face anything except gentleness.

“So the other clues are just the messiness of ordinary life?” Nicholas asked. “The World of Goods award, the, um, ice cubes. The bag of cash and … oh, the cash was CJ’s payment, huh?”

“No,” Lily-Ann said. “Because CJ wasn’t the killer.”

80

OCEAN

Ocean touched Mrs. B’s elbow to steady her, and to remind her that she wasn’t facing this whirlwind of revelations alone. Especially the latest one. What was Lily-Ann talking about now? After finding CJ locked in a room with empty pill bottles and a suicide note, she wasn’t the killer? Even her motivation made perfect sense: she’d never deviated in her loyalty to Frank, her caretaking of Frank. She’d given him what he wanted—his death—despite the danger to herself.

Except now Lily-Ann was saying she wasn’t the killer?

Though of course she wasn’t. Right? Maybe. For painfully obvious reasons, Ocean didn’t like to think about helping someone she loved—someone she treasured, someone who gave shape to her life—move on. So she didn’t. Instead, she thought about CJ, drugged unconscious. She still thought she should go to her, except she needed to stay for Mrs. B—and CJ wouldn’t want her to see her like that. Better to let the ambulance handle things. Or was it? As she dithered, Lily-Ann continued to explain.

“Does the name Horace Ashley mean anything to anyone?” Lily-Ann asked.

“Not me,” Nicholas said.

“What kind of name is Horace?” Mrs. B said.

“Um, actually…” Sophie chewed her lower lip. “I think he’s on my donor list? Isn’t he a local philanthropist?”

“He was,” Lily-Ann told her.

“Oh, right! I crossed him off because he passed away.”

Lily-Ann nodded. “He’s one of three wealthy men who died in the past four years in Santa Barbara. All of whom worked with the same masseuse. A masseuse who specializes in elder care.”

There was a pause, then Pax gave a disbelieving snort. “I specialize in end-of-life care, Lily-Ann. Death is hardly a surprise when one assists those on the brink of the great transition.”

“I searched the obituaries for the wealthiest families in Santa Barbara. I called and asked if they recommended your services. They knew you. That’s when I figured that Frank withdrew cash to pay for your true end-of-life services. He hired you to kill him, at home, with no physician rigamarole. I have no problem with that.” Lily-Ann’s gaze turned icier than usual. “Except Frank tripped before you earned your money, and Karina thought CJ pushed him. Every single problem is a consequence of that. He tripped, yet the police began investigating, which was a threat to you. You couldn’t allow the investigation to continue, in case the cops discovered your side gig—even though you’d done nothing this time.”

“All I’ve ever done is treat my patrons with the love and—”

“You were right to worry,” Lily-Ann cut in. “Your previous clients weren’t hard for me to find, the police will have no trouble once they start looking.”

“I wasn’t anywhere near Frank when he fell!” Pax said.

“Of course not. He stumbled. It was an accident … this time. Still, you are a serial euthanizer. You’ve done this before. And I’d support your work, except you framed CJ to divert attention from yourself—and you murdered Sunny Wheeler.”

“Oh, bullshit!” Pax stood from the bench. “That’s bonkers. Sure, I worked for some of the wealthiest families, but I didn’t kill them.”

“Three dead within months of working with you. All at home. All painless, private, with no doctors in sight.” Lily-Ann turned to address everyone else. “Pax convinced Sunny Wheeler to support Karina’s testimony about seeing CJ. He needed to frame CJ and end the investigation. Either he blackmailed Sunny, or he pretended that Karina wanted his support. Basically, he panicked when the investigation didn’t go away.”

“I don’t panic.” Pax exhaled slowly, like the massage therapist he was. “I am calm. I am centered.”

“After he arranged for Sunny’s testimony,” Lily-Ann continued. “He realized that he’d made a terrible mistake. He’d created a witness. Now Sunny knew Pax was involved. So he needed to die. Perhaps Pax offered to give him a quick car massage, that’s why he was in the back seat.”

“This is bullshit!” Pax gestured angrily toward the music studio. “CJ swallowed bottles of pills! You said so yourself!”

Lily-Ann’s gaze turned milder. “You live near VivX, don’t you? What is it, Ocean, a bike ride away?”