Murder, My Darling

by Patti Benning

  She was about to give up when, through a gap in the crowd, she spotted him talking with an elderly woman. He was laughing as though he didn’t have a care in the world, and the sight made her lips thin in anger. She didn’t trust him in the slightest, not after everything she had learned about him.

  “Excuse me,” she said once she had pushed her way through the crowd to stand next to him. He jerked his head around at the sound of her voice, and his smile grew even wider when he saw that it was her.

  “Ms. Darling!” he exclaimed. “I was meaning to find you. This was a beautiful vigil and a great idea.”

  “It was all my daughter’s work,” she said, then immediately mentally kicked herself for mentioning Candice. If he was the killer, the last thing she wanted to do was to draw attention to her daughter. “Can I speak to you in private about something?”

  He nodded and excused himself from the conversation he had been having. She inclined her head toward the community center, where hot cocoa and warm donuts were being served. It would be warmer, at least, and she wanted to be somewhere brightly lit while talking with him. She didn’t trust him in the slightest.

  Once they had tucked themselves into a quiet corner inside, she turned to face him. “I know your secret,” she said to him.

  She watched his face go pale. It would have been comical, if her heart hadn’t been pounding so hard in her chest. She knew that frightened people could be even more dangerous than angry people, and he looked terrified.

  “What secret?” he asked, trying to force his face into a casual expression. He let out a tense laugh that wouldn’t have fooled a child.

  “I know you aren’t who you say you are,” she whispered. “I know Cole Geary doesn’t exist.”

  He stared at her with wide eyes. She braced herself for something – an attack, anger, she wasn’t sure exactly what she was expecting, but it wasn’t for him to slouch against the wall as if all of the strength had been drained out of him.

  “Please,” he said. “You can’t tell anyone.”

  “Then tell me what’s going on,” she demanded. “Did you kill Darrin?”

  His eyes got even wider. “What? No! Of course not.”

  “I know you tried to get him to work for you.”

  “That doesn’t mean I killed him,” he said, aghast.

  “Between that, your false identity, and the fact that you’re copying my deli almost exactly, why should I believe anything you say?”

  He hesitated, then seemed to come to a decision. “I’m hiding from men who want to kill me,” he said in a low, urgent voice. “I used to work at a financial firm, and I stumbled across a group of executives who were stealing millions from the company. My testimony sent them to prison, but two of them got out on parole, and I know they’re going to come after me. Look, you can read about the trial online.”

  He typed quickly into his phone and then held it up under her nose. She blinked, staring down at a story that mirrored what he had just said. Sure enough, the man in the picture was him, but with light colored hair instead of dark.

  “Why wouldn’t you go into witness protection?” she asked, frowning as she tried to make sense of what he had said. “And why are you copying my restaurant and trying to steal my employee?”

  “Witness protection would have taken too long, and there was no proof that the men would come after me. But I know them, and I know they will. I bought a fake ID with a fake name, and I convinced one of my old college buddies to invest in the restaurant, so my real name wouldn’t be on any documents. I’m a terrible chef, no one would ever guess that I would open a restaurant, and I hate the cold, so no one would think to look for me in Michigan. All I had to do was stay under the radar.” He rubbed a hand across his face. “I guess I failed at that.”

  “That doesn’t explain why you lied about the restaurant and tried to poach Darrin.”

  He looked at her oddly. “I didn’t lie about anything; the restaurants are nothing alike. I was taking those photos to reassure my buddy that they are completely different. And I just thought I’d offer your employee a job, because I’m terrible in the kitchen and everyone local says your place is the best.”

  Moira felt her eye twitch when he insisted that the restaurants were completely different. She knew what she had seen. She didn’t push it, though. She was less concerned about a copycat restaurant than she was about solving Darrin’s murder. Even though Cole’s story was outlandish, she didn’t get the feeling that he was lying. It was too much of a stretch for a lie, and besides, there was that story he had shown her on his phone.

  “I believe you,” she said after a moment. “And… I won’t tell anyone what you told me, besides my husband. He already knows your identity is false, anyway.”

  “Thank you,” he breathed. “I may be terrible at all this business stuff, but I can assure you I’m not a killer.”

  “I just wish I knew who did it,” Moira admitted. “He didn’t deserve to have his life end so quickly. It’s not fair that whoever did it is running free.”

  “The guy who died is the same one who was there the day you saw me taking the pictures, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Well, I don’t know if it helps any, but after I left, I heard him arguing with someone around the side of the building.”

  “Who?” Moira asked, her heart beating faster. “What were they arguing about?”

  “I think it was the delivery lady. I just caught a glimpse of them standing in front of a truck. They were arguing about a ring. They must have been dating, because I remember her saying that she loved him.” He frowned. “Or maybe not, because I think he also called her a thief. One of them might have said something about a sister, I don’t know. I had my own things to worry about. Does that help at all?”

  “It might,” Moira said, her mind racing.

  Had it been Jade he was arguing with? No, it would have been Vickie, she was the one who drove the truck… and she was Jade’s sister. Suddenly Cole’s butchered story began to make sense. They were arguing about the ring that had gone missing, and Darrin had called her a thief, which must have meant that she had taken it. Then she had confessed her love to him, which could explain why she had taken the ring in the first place. Jealousy and unrequited love could be powerful motives.

  The timeline fit, too. She hadn’t noticed the change in his mood until after he came back in from unloading the truck. It had just been such a routine thing that she hadn’t made the connection until now.

  She realized with a jolt that she knew just where Vickie would be at this moment… and chances were high that Candice would be there too.

  Her eyes widening, she turned and ran out of the community center, leaving Cole behind without an explanation. She had to get to the deli before Candice did. If she was right and Vickie was the killer, there was no telling what she might do next.

  Chapter Twelve

  The vigil for Darrin had gone better than she could have hoped. All the planning and hard work had been worth it. She knew the money that had been donated wouldn’t ease the pain of his passing for his parents, but at least it would make their lives a little bit easier.

  She was grateful when she’d heard that Vickie had volunteered to take the float back to the deli for her, because she had wanted to spend some time talking to the people who had participated in the parade. Now, half an hour later, she was getting cold and tired and decided to head back to the deli herself to warm up. It was only a couple of blocks away from the community center, where the parade had ended, and she walked it alone. Allison had long since called it a night, and Eli had taken the car back to Lake Marion to take Reggie, his grandfather home. She was glad Reggie had been able to watch the Christmas parade, and knew that he and Eli had a lot of catching up to do.

  The float was parked in front of the deli, and Vickie had put a tarp over it to protect it from the snow. Candice knew they would have to take it apart tomorrow, but it would be fine the way it was for
tonight.

  She pushed the deli’s front door open and stepped inside, inhaling the welcoming scent of warm cabbage soup. With luck, there would still be enough left for her to grab a bowl to eat while she waited for Eli to return.

  She made her way through the dining area to the kitchen, where she paused at the door. She heard the sound of someone crying coming from inside. She hesitated, her fist half raised to knock. Her first thought was that it was Allison, but no, Allison had told her she was going straight home.

  Curious, she gently pushed open the door and peered around the corner. She was shocked to see Vickie sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room, sobbing into a sweatshirt.

  “Um, are you all right?” she asked. The other woman jumped.

  “I- I’m fine,” she stammered. Standing up, she tucked the sweatshirt under her arm. “Sorry.”

  “What are you doing? Why were you crying?”

  “I just… I miss him so much.”

  “Darrin?” Candice asked, confused.

  Vickie nodded. “I wish I could go back in time and change everything. We were supposed to spend our lives together.”

  Candice frowned, even more puzzled. “Wait… wasn’t he dating your sister?”

  “She wasn’t right for him!” Vickie reached up and grasped something that was hanging around her throat. It was a ring, Candice realized. “He would have realized I was the one who was meant for him. I know he would have, if only I hadn’t lost my temper. I just meant to scare him, and n-now I c-can’t even tell him I’m sorry.”

  She broke down in sobs again, but Candice’s concern had already turned into the ice-cold fear of realization.

  “You,” she whispered, her eyes widening. “It was you. You shot him.”

  She remembered what Allison said that day in the tent about Darrin arguing with someone. Vickie must have been trying to convince him to be with her, and had gone too far. She was obviously unbalanced, if the fact that she was sobbing into what must have been an old sweatshirt of Darrin’s was any indication, and she had just practically confessed to a murder.

  “I was just trying to scare him,” Vickie said, hiccupping. “I didn’t mean to actually do it.”

  “Of course you didn’t,” Candice said, trying to make her voice as soothing as possible. Her heart was beating like mad, but her mind was strangely calm. All she could think was that she needed a moment to step away and call the police in private. “I know you loved him. Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

  She made a move to guide the other woman toward the bathroom, but Vickie twisted away, backing up to the counter, where she grabbed her purse.

  “No! I know you don’t believe me. You think I’m crazy, don’t you? That’s what he said, that I was crazy, that I needed help, that he loved Jade and that was it. She got mad at him when I took the ring because she thought he lost it, how could she love him if she’d get mad over something like that? But then he turned me down again. He didn’t believe me when I told him he would be with me or no one. He got upset at me for scribbling over his picture in the newspaper, but he didn’t care how much it hurt me when he said he would never love me. Do you understand what I was feeling? It hurt.” She was hysterical, sobbing and hiccupping as she ranted, almost on the verge of hyperventilating as she clutched at her purse.

  “Just calm down,” Candice said to the frantic woman. “It’ll all be okay. Just –”

  She broke off as she heard the deli’s front door jingle as it opened. She turned, still silhouetted in the doorway to the kitchen, and saw her mother rush in.

  “Candice, look out!”

  She turned back around just in time to see Vickie raising a gun that she must have pulled out of her purse. Her eyes were wild and desperate. Candice jerked back just as she pulled the trigger. A deafening boom struck her like a blow, but, other than the ringing in her ears, she was uninjured.

  Acting on instinct, she rushed forward and tackled Vickie before she could fire another shot. The gun went flying, and after a short struggle, Vickie simply lay limp, allowing Candice to hold her down.

  Candice turned her head, still partially deafened from the gunshot. She looked for her mother, meaning to ask her to call the police, but saw something that made her heart stop.

  Lying motionless on the floor by the front door, in a spreading pool of blood, was her mother.

  Epilogue

  Moira Darling reached for her glass of eggnog and winced as she felt her stitches pull. Getting home from the hospital in time for Christmas was all well and good, but she had to admit she missed her hospital bed with its adjustable tray at times like this.

  “Hold on, Mom, I’ll get it for you.” Candice, who had been hovering around her ever since Moira had woken up in the ICU after her surgery, leaned forward to hand her mother her glass.

  “Thanks,” Moira said. “I’m going to be glad when I get these stitches out.”

  Her daughter just stared at her with a worried, guilt-filled gaze. Moira had already assured her daughter in every way possible that it wasn’t her fault that the bullet had hit her. She would never stop being grateful that Candice had moved out of the way in time, and would have taken a hundred bullets if it meant that her daughter was safe.

  “The meal was great, sweetie,” Eli said, breaking through the tension at the table. Candice glanced over at him and managed a small smile.

  “Really? I know it wasn’t as good as Mom’s, but I figured it would be better than eating takeout for Christmas.”

  “It was wonderful,” David said, reassuring his stepdaughter. “You’re a great cook, Candice. Plus, the most important thing is that we’re all together. The farmhouse is a great place to have Christmas as a family, so thank you for hosting.”

  Moira looked around herself as David spoke and felt the first glimmer of contentment deep in her chest. She and David were sitting next to each other, with Eli and Candice across from them, and Allison and Thelma down at the other end. Reggie sat at the foot of the table, and even the dogs and Felix were included, lounging at their feet or, in the cat’s case, on Eli’s lap.

  She still felt raw and fragile from Darrin’s death, but she loved her family and knew she was lucky to be there. It had been close, she knew that, though she didn’t remember anything past bursting into the deli and seeing Vickie pointing a gun at her daughter. The bullet had hit some major blood vessels, and she had been rushed directly into surgery. It would be a while before she was up and running around again.

  She had no idea what the new year would bring. With Candice home, the candy shop opening again, and Cole’s restaurant in Lake Marion, she knew they were all in for some changes. Part of her was looking forward to the simple challenge of having a competitor, though she still wasn’t sure how she felt about Cole and all of his secrets.

  Fighting back a yawn, she drained the rest of her eggnog while David got up and started clearing the table. She supposed there was one upside to being in recovery from a major surgery; she didn’t have to do any chores.

  “Do you want to go into the living room, Mom?” Candice asked, half rising from her seat.

  “Sure,” Moira said, pushing her wheelchair back from the table. She didn’t argue when Candice came around from behind to push her into the living room. She knew how to pick her battles, and didn’t want to argue with her daughter on Christmas.

  While the others began to slowly make their way into the living room, Candice settled in on the couch next to her mother and spoke softly. “I’m glad you’re okay, Mom.”

  “I’m glad I am too,” she said. She took her daughter’s hand. “There’s so much I don’t want to miss. I can’t wait to see where your life leads you. I just hope you’ll always come home to David and me.”

  “Of course I will,” Candice said. “I have no plans to leave again. Maple Creek is as much my home as it is yours. Just promise me that you’ll take care of yourself, all right? When I saw you right after you got shot, it was the most terrifying thi
ng in my life. I may be an adult now, but I still need you. Leave all the running around and death-defying stunts to me, okay?”

  “I won’t make any promises about that,” Moira said with a grin. “But I don’t plan on getting in the way of any more bullets any time soon.”

  “That will have to be good enough for me,” Candice said with a laugh. “Merry Christmas, Mom.”

  “Merry Christmas, Candice. It’s been a crazy year, but I know that I’m just where I want to be.” She squeezed her daughter’s hand. “I wouldn’t change it for the world.”