Murders on the Edge

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Murders on the Edge Page 13

by Andie Alexander


  He looked down at my feet. “Where are your shoes?”

  I lifted them up and showed him.

  “Why aren’t you wearing them?”

  “I found the problem with Mrs. Ashley’s lawn. It was a dog’s fault and it was all over my shoes.”

  After taking off all his protective clothing from the autopsy, he took the shoes from my hand and examined them. “They look clean, but man, they stink.”

  “Mrs. Ashley washed them for me.”

  He took them to a side sink, covered them in something that smelled nice, and went into a back room. He put them in a washing machine, threw in some soap, and turned it on. “Now come with me.” He grabbed my arm and dragged me back into the room with the dead hooker.

  I wrenched my arm from his hand. “You don’t have to be nasty.”

  “I don’t like being hung up on. I was telling you I loved you and you hung up on me. I don’t like that.”

  “I didn’t need to be lectured again,” I said. “Now what did you want to show me?”

  He let go of my arm and put his hands on his hips. “Lectured? Think about this. Our kid may be developing inside you and you’re so selfish that you only think about yourself.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Here we go again.”

  “No. It’s my kid, too. It’s time to back off and give the kid a chance.”

  “You don’t even know if I’m pregnant or not and you want me to sit for nine months and do nothing?” I whispered. “What do you think will happen to me if I do?”

  “You’ll be a good mom. You’ll do as your doctor says. If you remember correctly, when you met me, you didn’t even know if you could have kids. This might be your only shot, so don’t blow it.”

  I really did love the guy, even with his faults. “We’re not going to resolve this right now, so tell me about the hooker.” I walked over to the table, but he grabbed my arm.

  “This isn’t over,” he whispered.

  “I’m sure.” I looked down into the incision he’d made into her body, holding my nose. “What’s the deal with this lady?”

  “She didn’t die of a heart attack.”

  I looked up at his face. “What did she die of?”

  “She was knifed.”

  “Did you tell Archie?”

  “Yes. He was on his way over, but has an incident he has to handle.”

  “An incident?”

  Jim nodded. “A standoff at a house with a gun. There’s a hostage. I’m going over to help him.”

  “The doctor is going to help the sheriff? What good would that serve? You’re not a cop in this town.”

  “I know,” he said. “But he has no help.”

  I headed toward the door. “I’ll help him. I can negotiate for him. I took an online course on it.”

  He grabbed my shoulders from behind. “No way. You’re not getting near a gun. Knowing you, you’ll be shot in the abdomen, and I’m not risking either of your lives.”

  I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell him to shove it. I wanted to run away. But I didn’t. I looked into his face and realized he was right. I didn’t need to be there, but I could still do the job.

  “Let me call the person who’s holding the hostages,” I said. “I’ll play dumb and talk them out of it.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re kind of emotional right now and you might send them over the edge.”

  I kept my tone as even as possible. “Do I sound emotional right now? Did I argue with you?”

  He paused for a moment. “No, you’re right. It’s a start but you don’t need any extra stress.”

  “Who’s the person holding the hostages?”

  “Someone named Mrs. Newton.”

  I felt my body chill at the name, because that was the woman working at the mortuary from the day before.

  Jim studied my face. “Do you know her?”

  “Yes, I do. She’s the one who brought the cookies in to work, I think. She played dead on a table and when I tried to fix her hair, she grabbed my arm, scaring me. Yes. I know her.”

  He thought for a moment. “Fine. You may call her. You have an angle. The cookies. Get me the recipe and keep her talking. Find out who she’s got in the place.”

  “Thanks.”

  I went out to the desk and looked in a book listing employee names and numbers. Scanning down the list, I saw the name for Mrs. Kerenza Newton, and her husband, a gravedigger named Putnam Newton. Why he didn’t help us dig graves was beyond me.

  I lifted the phone and dialed the number.

  “Hello?” I could tell it was Mrs. Newton’s voice, the nasty woman, trying to scare me to death.

  “Is this Mrs. Newton?”

  “Yes, it is. May I ask who is calling?”

  “This is Jane Black, from work. I was really hungry for some of your cookies. Can you give me the recipe?”

  Jim walked up beside me, wiping his hands.

  “I’d love to, but maybe at a different time,” she said. “I’m kind of busy right now.”

  “What are you doing, baking more cookies? Would you like me to come over and help you?”

  Jim sighed and shook his head.

  “No, I’m kind of holding my husband and daughter’s family hostage right now.” Her voice was so even-keeled that it surprised me.

  “Help us,” I heard over the phone. “Save us.” It was a woman’s voice.

  “Mrs. Newton, can I call you by your first name?” I asked.

  “Sure,” she said. “It’s Kerenza.”

  “That’s a cool name. Where did your mom think of that?”

  “She had a credenza that she absolutely loved, and that’s close to my name. She named all of us kids after furniture. My brother Bench and my sister Rocker live in town, too.”

  The mom was off her rocker, making me think it must run in the family. “Well, Kerenza, why are you holding people hostage?”

  “I felt like it.” Silence. “You know, you’re right. Why am I doing this? They’re my family.”

  “Mom, give me the gun,” a younger woman’s voice said. Crying sounded in the background, so I stared up at Jim in surprise.

  I heard some weird kind of noise and a door opened. “We’re coming in,” Archie said.

  “Come on in,” the younger woman said. “It’s fine now.”

  “Jane, can you come to visit me?” Kerenza asked. “I think they want to take me to jail. I have that cookie recipe memorized.” Her voice strained and she sobbed. “I don’t know why I did it.”

  “I believe you. I’ll be right there.” I ended the call and stared at Jim. “She doesn’t know why she pulled the gun. That’s very troublesome.”

  “Yes, it is. I wonder if lack of whatever is hitting these people turns them violent.”

  “I learned a lot from the two people I visited. First, the dog had been dognapped, and the people dropped it off when I was there. The one dog napper was that guy walking on the road, and he made eye contact with me.”

  “That’s not good.”

  “No, it’s not. I also learned that if you don’t go out after three, you don’t get affected by the drug or whatever it is. Mrs. Ashley thinks it’s from Hagar Lawn service in Animas, because everyone who has their lawn done, gets it treated from there. Her husband died and used to party a lot. He was in charge of the lawn. They have no lawn now, and Mrs. Ashley’s keeping an eye out. It doesn’t affect her.”

  “Wasn’t she the one with the smelly lawn?”

  “Yep. But she has dirt. No lawn. Do you think the grass has something to do with it? Mr. Rixie didn’t have much grass at all, just one little strip. However, it was manicured. But neither of them get sick.”

  “Could be the grass, but I doubt it. I find it more troubling that the violence seems to have escalated and Mrs. Newton didn’t know why she had a gun.” He stared at me for a moment. “As a matter of fact, you’re kind of testy tonight, too. I wonder if it’s affecting you.”

  I crossed my arms and lifted
my nose. “I didn’t think I was testy.”

  “Yes, dear.” He just smiled. “Anything else?”

  “Yes.” I uncrossed my arms. “Mrs. Ashley may have had a reason for the escalation. She said the drugs, or whatever the bad people use, seem to have increased. If you’re a newcomer now, your chances of dying are a lot greater than they used to be.”

  He took my arm. “I’m going to have Archie look through the files and see if the numbers of crimes have increased since this started.” He took me into the back room and lifted the lid to the washer. “It’s not done yet.”

  “I can walk in socks. It’s not a big deal.”

  “Yes, it is.” He put his arm over my shoulder and directed me into the autopsy room. “What size shoes do you wear again?”

  “Seven.”

  He took the high heels off the hooker and looked inside. “Nines. Think you can wear those?”

  “No, even if they did fit. I’m fine.”

  “You’ll catch cold.”

  “In New Mexico. In October. No way.”

  “It’s raining,” he said. “You’ll get wet.”

  “Look. I’m walking over to the sheriff’s office. I want to talk to Mrs. Newton and get that cookie recipe. It might be a lead, remember?”

  “I’ll drive you.”

  “Fifty feet?”

  “Yep. And I’ll pull right up to the door so you don’t get wet.”

  I thought it through. “Do you intend to treat me like a child for nine months?”

  “Yes, I do, even if you’re being impossible.” His lips met mine briefly. “I know you don’t like it, but I was serious about this possibly being our only chance to have kids.”

  “You said my condition was fixable and I’m better now.”

  “In your line of work, you never know what the next day might bring.” He pulled me into a hug. “I love you and I’m going to take care of both of you. For now and always.”

  I guessed now was not the time to mention I had access to a bike.

  Chapter 23

  Kerenza Newton was handcuffed, with her purse hanging off the cuffs. How she convinced Archie to let her to bring a purse was beyond me, because the little straw bag would make a great weapon if filled with a brick.

  Archie unlocked the handcuffs and put her purse on the table, finally searching through it. He removed a pocketknife, mace, and three tiny guns.

  “You wanted to bring these?” he asked. “What makes you think I’ll allow these in my jail?”

  “You said you couldn’t deny me my purse, deary,” she said in such a sweet tone, I knew he’d been played.

  “Question her,” Jim whispered, nudging me.

  “I’m not a cop in this town,” I said, also in a whisper.

  He nodded, but he didn’t understand.

  I leaned up to his ear. “I’m running away from a mean boyfriend who won’t let me have a bike, remember?” He narrowed his eyes, so I backed off a bit. “I’m not a cop. I worked at a car dealership in Tucson.”

  “Question her anyway,” he whispered. “She’ll talk to you.”

  “But she’ll talk to Archie, too, right?”

  He leaned back, made eye contact with Archie, and shook his head. “She’s refusing.”

  “How do you know that?” I whispered.

  “Archie told me.”

  “Liar.” And he wasn’t good at it.

  “No, he did. She’s refusing to talk and wants a lawyer. We need that information, from one woman to another. It’s not admissible in court, or at least her lawyer won’t think so.”

  I nodded and walked over to Archie. “Can I talk to Kerenza before you process her?”

  He almost laughed at me. “What for?”

  “I want to get her cookie recipe.”

  He laughed at me, a full belly laugh. “Do you have a craving for cookies or something?” He looked down at my stomach.

  Comedian. I wasn’t even sure I was pregnant. “Look, Sheriff. I want to talk to my friend. I don’t think that’s too much to ask, is it?”

  He leaned up over the counter, moving closer to me. “Want to join her in jail? Then you’ll have a lot of time to spend with her.” He half-winked and I glanced over at Jim, who nodded.

  “Fine. Put me in jail with her.”

  Archie looked down at his papers. “I can’t do that unless you commit a crime. Now, run along and I’ll see you at the house.”

  “No, I want to talk to my friend.” I moved a chair up to the tall counter and stood on it. “Do I make myself clear?” I took a step up onto the counter, with my hands on my hips.

  He barely looked up at me. “Jane, get down.”

  I sat down on the counter. “Is this better? Can I talk to her now?”

  “No,” he said. “You have to do something major to get put in there to talk to her. In other words, go home, Jane. It’s not going to happen.”

  I hopped off the counter and landed right in front of him. “What do you mean, I have to do something major? What did you have in mind?”

  He ignored me, reading over some paperwork. “Assaulting a police officer, murder, theft, you know, the major things. Now go to the other side of the counter, please.”

  I grabbed his arm and spun him toward me. “No. I want to talk to my friend.”

  He stared down at my hand on his arm. “Jane, act civilized.” He grinned and nodded, winking. Yeah, I got it. He wanted me to take him on.

  “I’ll show you civilized.” I flew at him with my hands around his neck, forcing him to the ground with me on top. “I want to talk to my friend.”

  “Help,” Archie said. “I get the picture. You can go to jail now.”

  With a grin, I rolled off Archie and stood up. He got to his feet, spun me around so I could see Jim and Kerenza, and slapped the cuffs on me. “I need a deputy to take care of evil citizens like you,” he muttered. “I think you gave me a concussion.”

  I smiled, nodding toward Jim. “See the doctor. He’s great with exams.”

  Archie started to laugh, and I saw Jim turn the other way, also laughing. I guess Archie didn’t want to have the same exam I had with Jim earlier, where we made out on the table. His loss.

  Sheriff Archie took Kerenza and me to a cell, locking the metal doors behind us. “Now, be good and I’ll see what I can do for you two.”

  I got to my feet and stared him down. “I want a lawyer.”

  “There are no lawyers in this town,” Kerenza said. “The last one died a month ago.”

  “This must be heaven,” I muttered. “So you don’t have a lawyer?”

  “No and I won’t talk without one.” At least Jim was right. She continued. “I think I really need one. Do you know of any?”

  “No, but I agree.” I addressed Archie again. “I want a lawyer and I want to post bond.”

  “Bond, huh? Want me to talk to the doctor and see if he’ll post bond for you? Maybe bail The Living Daylights out of you?”

  I knew what he was saying. Our last name was Bond, and he thought he was being very funny, using a James Bond movie title. I hoped Jim would chew him out for me. He hated movie titles used in his presence because of his first and last names.

  I was still angry, so I moved very close to him. “Look, buddy. I need to get out of here, and you know it.”

  “Oh, we’ll see. Tomorrow Never Dies.” He twirled the keys around his finger, whistling while he walked away.

  “What is he talking about?” Kerenza asked.

  “Who knows?” I sat down beside her. “I think he’s insane and I’m going to use that for my defense.”

  “I’ve never been in jail before.” She looked at the concrete walls.

  “Me either. That sheriff. You’d think he’d be nicer because we’re both living at the doctor’s house.”

  “You are? You’re living in sin?”

  “No, I’m not. The doctor didn’t want me in town with everything going on during party nights. So I’m staying there, in my own room, and sinc
e the sheriff is new to the town, he’s staying there, too, until we both find a place. See if I ever make him breakfast.” I about laughed, knowing there was a camera above us and they were both probably watching. Considering he’d made me breakfast just that afternoon, it was really funny.

  I turned toward Kerenza. “Tell me what happened?”

  “Well, I figured it would be a party night, so I put on my party clothes. I was going to the Hubert house.”

  “What’s at the Hubert house?”

  She leaned closer. “They have male prostitutes there and I’ve never been, but I wanted to try it out. I’ve been saving money for a long time, just to see if they have what my husband has.”

  “I’m sure they do,” I whispered. “What were you expecting?”

  “I want to see fireworks. I want to be wooed. I want someone who doesn’t just sit in front of the TV with the remote and ignore me when I’m standing in front of him wearing a black negligee. I want a man to notice me for me, and if it took a hundred bucks, so be it.”

  I nodded, my eyebrows rising. I didn’t even want to think about it, with all her wrinkles and saggy bits. “A hundred bucks. What does that buy you?”

  She leaned closer. “Anything you want. I want a man to make love to me and tell me I’m the most beautiful woman alive before I die.”

  So she wanted the man to lie for a hundred bucks. “What happened tonight?”

  “Well, I had my hundred bucks under my mattress, waiting for party night. Since nothing happened tonight, I was angry. Angrier than usual, too. When Putnam ignored me—that’s my husband’s name—for the umpteenth time during dinner with our daughter’s family, I snapped. I don’t know what happened, but I grabbed a gun. I told them all about Juan, over at the Hubert house, and how he’d make me feel like a real woman. I swear it wasn’t me talking, but I felt possessed.” Tears formed in her eyes. “Now what can I do? I just threatened to kill Putnam, Megara, Ozzy, and little Juniper.”

  “Juniper?”

  “Megara’s my daughter, Ozzy is her husband, and their son is Juniper. He’s three.” Tears poured down her cheeks. “I’m not like this. I’ve never strayed from Putnam and never really wanted to. I wanted him to make love to me like he used to. He was a great lover, too.”

  I didn’t crave details, but just looked up at the camera and nodded.

 

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