Chapter Seventeen
Stefanie was a little surprised to see the door opened by Bella, after having come to expect that task to be done by her dependable, and seemingly always present, housekeeper, Nadine Marinkovich.
Bella grinned attractively. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Stefanie said, smiling back as she walked inside, paying her friend a planned visit just to chill out. “Where’s Nadine?”
“I gave her the day off,” Bella explained, as if feeling guilty for not doing so sooner. “Nadine works way too hard, cleaning up after me and my guests—present company excluded,” she added with a laugh. “You’re too much of a neat freak!”
Stefanie chuckled. “We are who we are,” she said, taking ownership of what she assumed was a compliment.
“So true.” Bella flashed her teeth. “Anyway, let’s go sit in the den. I made herbal tea.”
“Okay.” Stefanie glanced toward the incredible kitchen with its luxury appliances, waterfall island and quartz countertops.
They got past the great room and formal dining room before entering the den. It was spacious, with white-wood paneling, interlocking hardwood flooring, a vaulted ceiling, two matching upholstered swivel armchairs and a corduroy modular sectional.
Bella sat on the sectional sofa and waited for Stefanie to sit beside her, which she did. She handed Stefanie a cup of herbal tea from a bamboo serving tray on a farmhouse coffee table, and then picked up the other cup for herself.
“So, how’s your day been?” Bella asked casually.
Stefanie sipped the tea, thoughtful. “Same old, same old.”
“Anything new on the dual investigations?”
“Not really,” Stefanie told her. Should I mention anything about the allegations leveled at her father, that he was having an affair with Lynda Boxleitner, only to poison her to death? she wondered before deciding it wasn’t her place to do so.
Stefanie suspected that Bella, being as devoted as she was to her family, would deny any unproven insinuations against her father.
The fact that he was now deceased made it highly unlikely that the truth would ever come out, one way or the other, in spite of his former gardener’s accusations regarding the affair and Stuart’s use of the toxic thallium sulfate to silence Lynda forever.
Stefanie tasted the tea. “Have you heard anything?” she asked nonchalantly.
“Nothing comes to mind,” Bella said, putting the cup of tea to her glossed lips.
“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see how things turn out,” Stefanie suggested, knowing that whatever came out about Stuart Reston, Bella would just have to deal with it and, hopefully, get past it.
“Right.” Bella sat her teacup down and watched as Stefanie sipped more. “Is the tea as good as I think it is?”
“Yes, excellent,” Stefanie replied with a smile, tasting the blend of elderflower, chamomile and lemon.
Bella grinned. “Glad you like it.” She waited a beat before taking a breath and saying evenly, “There’s something I have to tell you, Stefanie… I’ve been wanting to talk about this with someone for the longest time, but it never quite seemed like the right time. Till now…”
“Okay.” Stefanie regarded her, curious as to what was weighing on her friend’s mind. “You’ve got my full attention.”
“Thanks.” Bella lifted her cup, took a sip and put it back on the tray. “Where do I begin?”
“Anywhere you’re comfortable with,” Stefanie prodded, and sipped the tea again before setting it down.
“All right. Here goes…” Bella sat back, thoughtful. “My father had an affair with Lynda Boxleitner—”
Stefanie raised an eyebrow. “Really?” she asked innocently.
“It was apparently during a time that he and my mother were going through a rough patch,” Bella suggested.
“Lynda threw herself at him, and my father, being vulnerable at he was, took the bait.” Bella’s eyes narrowed.
“She threatened to reveal their dirty little secret to the world—starting with my mother… Panicking over what that might do to her—and everything else my father stood for—he killed Lynda…”
“What?” Stefanie’s eyes shot wide at this blunt admission. Had Bella known about this all along?
“I know, I was floored when first learning about it,” Bella told her, a catch to her tone of voice. “More tea?” she asked, as if evading the difficult subject matter.
“I’m good,” Stefanie said, then picked up the cup to sip a bit more of it for effect. “Go on…” she urged her.
“Okay.” Bella nodded. “Anyway, my dad made the confession in a journal that he kept. I’d known about the journal for years, but never gave much thought as to what was in it.
Not till after he passed away. He confessed to poisoning Lynda with the thallium sulfate that Sidney Sedwick hooked him up with—then made an effort to blame her death on Wendell Braison, knowing that Lynda was a follower of the Braison Family at the time and their controversial lifestyle. ”
“Wow,” was all Stefanie could say at the moment. “So, you found the journal?”
“If only that were true.” Bella’s face contorted.
“Then everything might have turned out differently.” She sighed, meditative.
“As it is, this all only came to light when I discovered that Mia O’Dell, my father’s former housekeeper, had stolen the journal.
She intended to blackmail me for a considerable amount to get the journal back.
Or else, she planned to hand it over to the police as a two decades old confession to murder.
Neither were particularly good choices for me to chew on and swallow—or spit out… ”
Stefanie batted her lashes. “So what did you do, Bella?”
“The only thing I could do,” she answered boldly, flashing her eyes at Stefanie. “I killed her!” She sighed. “Or participated in killing her with some able-bodied help—”
“What?” Stefanie tried to digest what she had just heard while absentmindedly taking another sip of the tea. Who helped her? “Please tell me you didn’t go that far?”
“I had no choice,” Bella insisted. “Okay, my dad was a bastard. But he was still my father. I wasn’t about to allow a money grabber to put the squeeze on me—or else!”
“There’s always a choice.” Stefanie’s mouth hung open with disbelief. “How could you?”
“It wasn’t that difficult, truly.” Bella’s voice grew dark.
“I had my family’s legacy to think about.
And since most people bought into the notion that Lynda Boxleitner’s death was directly attributable to her involvement with the Braison Family, I wanted to keep it that way.
As Mia also happened to be a member of the cult, it made sense to connect her death to them as well—make it appear that both women were poisoned by someone within the cult—albeit twenty years apart.
Fentanyl was much easier to come by these days, especially if you knew where to get it. ”
Stefanie batted her lashes. “Did you know where to get fentanyl?”
“Not exactly.” Bella wrinkled her nose. “Fortunately, the person I aligned myself with did.”
“Who?” She locked eyes with her, while pondering who would help her kill someone. “Is it Kenneth Braison?” Stefanie found that hard to fathom, considering everything else she had just heard. But Bella seemed to have no trouble getting what—or whom—she wanted, so anything was possible.
“Actually, it’s Juan Barrientos,” Bella told her proudly.
“Juan?” Stefanie looked at her with shock. “And you?”
Bella laughed. “It’s not what you think.
Not really. Yes, we hooked up a couple of times and that’s it.
This was all it took to have him wrapped around my little finger,” she said satisfyingly, lifting up her pinkie to make her point.
“It’s primarily a business arrangement. He’s helped me take care of some problems…
and he’s got his own agenda. So there you have it. ”
Stefanie was beginning to feel a little queasy, but thought it must have been an unsettled stomach with what she’d just been told. She peered at Bella and asked point-blank, “So you and Juan poisoned Jasmine, too?”
Bella sighed. “She asked way too many questions and became a liability. Beyond that, Jasmine’s death was another way to point the finger at the Braison Family as being responsible for poisonous deaths across two generations—”
“This is crazy,” Stefanie said, unable to keep the thought to herself. “You’ll never get away with it…”
“Don’t be too sure about that,” Bella boasted confidently. “Everything’s going according to plan—”
What’s that supposed to mean? Stefanie wondered. How could Bella truly believe she would be able to keep her deadly secrets? “If you’re expecting me to keep this to myself—I can’t do that. Campbell needs to know what you and Juan have been doing…”
Bella chuckled. “I’m afraid he won’t find out from you, Stefanie…
You see, unfortunately, you’ve become a liability, too.
If only you hadn’t fortuitously come upon Mia on Founder’s Day, you and I could have maintained a wonderful and lasting friendship.
But you did find her—and in the process, came into Campbell’s orbit—putting a real damper on our camaraderie.
I knew it was only a matter of time before it would come to an end. That time is now…”
As if on cue, Stefanie found herself feeling even sicker, shaky and starting to perspire. She leveled her eyes at Bella and demanded, “What have you done to me?” The answer came to her before a response came from her unexpected new adversary.
Fluttering her lashes, Bella answered cruelly, “I took the liberty of spicing your herbal tea with enough fentanyl laced with carfentanil powder—and even some fentanyl liquid put in for good measure—so you’d die from an overdose.
Like Mia and Jasmine—as well as Lynda from back in the day—you’ll show up naked in Reston Hills Park as another victim of the Braison Family… ”
Stefanie tried to get to her feet, intent upon leaving the house, but fell back onto the sectional as dizziness overcame her. She tried to remove the cell phone from her jeans, but Bella beat her to the punch, grabbing it first.
“Sorry, can’t let you warn Campbell,” she hissed. “It would ruin everything…”
Just then, Stefanie heard a door slam shut and footsteps coming their way. Moments later, she watched as Juan Barrientos entered the den.
Bella narrowed her eyes at him. “What took you so long?”
“Had to be creative in getting out of the compound without too many questions being asked,” he explained. “Sorry.”
Bella’s nostrils flared. “Anyway, you’re here now.”
Juan regarded Stefanie and asked, “She give you any problems?”
“None that I couldn’t handle,” Bella responded succinctly.
Stefanie, who found herself even struggling to speak, forced out words anyhow. “Ca-Campbell is ne-never going to buy that I OD’d on fentanyl—no matter h-how you try to frame it,” she stammered.
Bella laughed and bragged, “I can be very persuasive when I want to be with Juan’s help.
He’ll plant some of your clothing—even your cell phone—and fentanyl powder and liquid at Kenneth Braison’s ranch house…
and I’ll insist that it be thoroughly searched.
When the evidence is found, Kenneth will be arrested for your murder and, undoubtedly, Mia’s and Jasmine’s, too.
I’ll get what I want in protecting my family’s legacy and Juan will assume the leadership role in the Braison Family.
It’s a win-win. But not for you, Stefanie, I’m sorry to say. ”
“I don’t think you are!” Stefanie spat out, furrowing her brow while peering at Bella. “Neither of you!”
She glared at Juan, who grinned at her maliciously and said, “You’re right—not sorry at all. It is what it is.” He gazed at Bella. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Okay,” she uttered unfeelingly.
Stefanie, her heart racing wildly, life flashing before her eyes, tried getting to her feet again as the effects of the poison given to her spread like cancer throughout her entire body.
But before she could even contemplate her next move, in what seemed to be a truly hopeless situation—one in which Campbell was likely none the wiser and, as such, unable to come to her aid in time—Stefanie passed out.
* * *
CAMPBELL STILL FELT UNSETTLED, even after they got Judge Ellen Ramiscal to sign a warrant for Juan Barrientos.
They had more than enough probable cause to believe that he had purchased the deadly fentanyl mixed with carfentanil—from drug dealer Luther Valdez—that ended up inside of Mia O’Dell and Jasmine Roxburgh, killing them both.
Moreover, Mia was seen getting into Barrientos’s Volvo XC60 SUV, shortly before her estimated time of death.
The man killed her, intentional or not, Campbell told himself as he headed toward the Braison Family property.
That meant that he had to have given Jasmine the lethal drug combo, too.
So was this the work of a serial killer who was intentionally getting rid of cult members who had become expendable?
Or did Barrientos have another purpose in mind for the OD poisonings made to resemble the fatal poisoning of Lynda Boxleitner?
Was he acting alone? Or in concert with another member of the Braison Family, if not Kenneth Braison?
Somehow, it didn’t figure that Kenneth would direct the execution of two of his likely faithful followers—going against his declaration of a drug-free, peaceful environment—by causing two of them to overdose to death on fentanyl.
That would be bad for the business of trying to keep current members and recruit new ones, if they stood a good chance of dying by joining the cult.
Why jeopardize what Braison might have thought was a good thing going by throwing caution to the wind?
Campbell sat on that thought for a moment, before rejecting the notion that Kenneth was in on this. Much less, condoning it. No, the greater likelihood was that Barrientos was operating outside of Kenneth’s knowledge.
Just like his father, Wendell Braison, Campbell had a feeling that Kenneth Braison was getting a raw deal where it concerned the poisoning of Braison Family devotees, other controversies of the cult notwithstanding.
But what am I missing? Campbell asked himself as he pulled onto South Petriss Road, nearing the Braison Family ranch. Something told him that there was an element or two that had yet to be fully fleshed out in hitting the mark in the investigation.
Unless they could pinpoint this soon, other followers of the Family could still be in danger.
Or someone from the outside, such as Stefanie—who had taken an interest in the cult for altruistic reasons after being indirectly connected to the deaths of two members.
Campbell felt comfort knowing that she was at least in a safe space at the moment, spending time with Bella.
He drove up to the gate, alongside another detective’s vehicle, while ready to track down Juan Barrientos and bring him in for questioning.