Malice In Wonderland (Book 6)

by Liliana Hart

  Maybe Hank hadn’t given her enough credit for her acting skills. She was doing beautifully.

  “I’m actually calling about something serious,” Theresa said. “I’ve been thinking a lot about Buck’s death, and what you told me to do, but I just can’t do it anymore.” Her voice went low and somber. “I feel terrible.”

  “Is this some kind of sick joke?” Candy asked. “Because I will kill you with my own two hands.”

  “Get a grip, Candy,” she said. “This isn’t a joke anymore. Your husband is dead.”

  “Yeah,” she said. “My husband. But guess who will walk away with all his money if you don’t keep your fat trap shut? You think I’m going to let you talk? Buck died of a heart attack,” Candy said. “So what? But that little floozie Heather could’ve made him have one just as easily as you did. You’re all bleeding my money from him, so I don’t care if you all die or go to jail.”

  “You can threaten me all you want, but you’re just as guilty. I told you he was dead, and you’re the one who came in and moved the body. You’re the one who lied to the police about Heather. So if I go to jail, you’d better believe you’re coming with me.”

  “How much do you want?” Candy said, all seriousness now. “Name your price. All I’m asking you to do is to stay drunk until tomorrow morning when they can formally charge her for murder. It’ll be national news. And as soon as Buck’s will is settled, I’ll pay you in cash. I already owe Ritzo and Kraken, though I had to pay them up front.”

  “Yeah, I don’t really work on a lay-a-way plan either,” Theresa said, playing along.

  “Give me two hours to come up with the cash,” Candy said. “I’ll call you back and we’ll settle this. Just keep your mouth shut.”

  Candy hung up, and Theresa handed the headphones back to Hank. “Will that help?” she asked.

  “Absolutely,” Hank said. “We appreciate it.”

  Agatha snapped a quick photograph of Theresa’s chipped toenail.

  “What are you doing?” Theresa asked

  “Just in case Candy’s offer is too tempting to pass up,” Agatha said. “Don’t let us down, Theresa.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The only place open in Rusty Gun on the Monday following a Fourth of July holiday was the Taco and Waffle. It was about ten o’clock at night and he and Agatha had already had a margarita and three bowls of chips and salsa while they waited on Coil. Actually, Agatha had eaten all the salsa. Hank had to go easy on the spicy stuff. He liked it, but at fifty-four, it didn’t like him too much.

  Coil finally came through the door and immediately removed his cowboy hat as he said hello to the hostess.

  “Hey, Coil,” Hank said as Coil slipped into the booth with them. “Long day, huh?”

  Coil placed his Stetson on the hook outside the booth. His eyes were bloodshot, and there were dark purple smudges under his eyes.

  “The two of you are a pain in the behind,” Coil said. “I should’ve known you wouldn’t let it rest after I talked to you this morning.”

  “It’s the least we could do for Heather,” Hank said.

  “Oh, so you’re a fan of Heather’s now?” Coil teased.

  “No, I’m a fan of justice. I’m also a fan of making Kraken and Ritzo’s lives miserable. So, I got to kill two birds with one stone.”

  “What’s going to happen to them?” Agatha asked, eating more chips and sipping from her schooner of strawberry margarita.

  “Since you got Candy to confess that she’d paid off Kraken and Ritzo, the Texas Rangers were able to take over. I can tell you you’re going to owe Will and Whitehorse big. The medical examiner hadn’t gotten around to doing the autopsy on Buck since, no doubt, Kraken and Ritzo had convinced him to wait until they were able to make an arrest. Will and Whitehorse had Sweet pick up the body, and he conducted the autopsy this afternoon. COD is officially a myocardial infarction.”

  “Just like Theresa told us,” Hank said. “Heart attack. So, what’s next?”

  Coil reached across the table and grabbed Hank’s drink glass. It was frosted over and rimmed with salt. He sipped and set it back down.

  “Thought you didn’t drink?” Hank asked.

  “I don’t,” Coil said, “I sipped.”

  That small gesture bothered Hank, but he kept his mouth shut. For now.

  “I wasn’t there,” Coil said, “But Will Ellis said Candy sang like a bird. She cleared Heather, and Theresa will likely get a slap on the wrist for being stupid, but she’ll probably just pay a fine and do community service. But Candy hammered nails into the careers of your all-time favorite detectives.”

  “Will they be arrested?” Agatha asked.

  “Tomorrow,” Coil said. “The Rangers are working with the state’s attorney general on preparing arrest warrants, for everything from falsifying official documents to kidnapping and wrongful imprisonment.”

  “What about Heather?” Hank asked.

  “They thought it was best to wait until Ritzo and Kraken were removed from the scene before releasing her. It’s for her own safety, and also as to not tip off either detective.”

  “That’s hardly fair,” Agatha said, smacking her hand on the table. “She’s got to spend a whole other night in that rat hole.”

  “Sorry, Agatha, but her safety and everyone else’s come before her convenience,” Coil said. “They’d know the gig was up if she got sprung free. They’d go on a rampage to quiet any potential witnesses,” Coil explained. “Especially if they felt they were being closed in on. They’re armed and dangerous. Plus, it looks like Heather is going to fall into another massive payday once she settles a lawsuit with the city of Dallas for the way this was handled.”

  “Not like she’s going to need the money,” Hank said. “She’s entitled to millions from Buck’s estate.”

  “How’d she do it?” Coil said with a whistle.

  “It’s not like she planned for it to happen.” Agatha snapped. “She gives her whole heart to her relationships, but Heather’s got lots of hurt in her life that no marriage will ever heal.”

  “What about Karl?” Hank asked.

  “Poor kid’s been worried sick about her,” Coil said. “I told him to steer clear, and he has, but it doesn’t mean he hasn’t been afraid of losing her.”

  “I’ll be there to pick her up, and treat her to a girl’s day,” Agatha said. “She’s going to need to decompress.

  “Keep it low key,” Coil warned. “Not everyone is going to believe she was innocent, nor will people be happy that two long-time and very productive police detectives were arrested. Like it or not, they were respected by the city, as well as feared.”

  Agatha clicked her tongue and pointed a finger gun at Coil. “You got it, sheriff.”

  “How many margaritas have you had?” Coil asked.

  “She’s had about three sips of that one,” Hank said, grinning, but you know she’s a lightweight.”

  “By the way, Agatha,” Coil said. “The Rangers recovered the electronic box that had the date and time stamp of all the party guests. It seems like you went to the party twice, and one of those times was last night when there was no one at home. I think they have some questions for you.”

  Agatha just grinned sloppily and rested her head against Hank’s shoulder. “We were like Remington Steele,” she told Coil, and then fell asleep against Hank.

  “She’s put in a lot of hours,” Hank said, laughing.

  “I’d be worn out too if Heather was my friend,” Coil said. “Y’all head home and get some sleep. I’m going to do the same. Coil slipped a twenty-dollar bill on the table.

  “No need Reggie,” Hank said. “I got it.”

  “No,” Coil said. “Y’all didn’t give up on her when everyone else did. Heather needed friends and y’all were there. I hope if I ever need that effort that you’d fight for me that hard.”

  “You know I would,” Hank said, grabbing Coil’s wrist. “Everything okay?”

  “Sure, why yo
u ask?”

  Now that Hank got a closer look at him, he realized he didn’t look good at all. “You surprised me when you took that drink.”

  “It was just a sip,” Coil said.

  “It’s never just a sip, and you know that,” Hank said. “So, I’m going to ask you again, are you okay?”

  Coil sighed and dropped back into the booth. “I’m just not sure how this is going to unfold.”

  “You mean with Ritzo and Kraken going down tomorrow?”

  Coil nodded.

  “You thinking something might come back on you?” Hank asked. “From the old days?”

  “I sure as heck hope not,” Coil said.

  “You know I’m always here to fight for you,” Hank said. “Whatever it takes.”

  “Brothers,” Coil said.

  “Brothers,” Hank agreed.

  Epilogue

  Tuesday

  * * *

  Heather hadn’t said a word the entire drive back from Dallas. She looked shell shocked, and rightfully so. She was still dressed in the electric blue outfit from Saturday night, and it was obvious they’d not allowed her to shower or practice any hygiene. Agatha would never say it aloud, but Heather needed a root touch up something fierce. Confinement wasn’t good to her. Agatha was afraid Heather had some form of PTSD by the way she was acting.

  They made a quick stop at Heather’s house so she could shower and change. Agatha took Hank’s advice and kept Heather protected and isolated in Rusty Gun. It was time to get pampered, and they were heading to the only place the town had to offer.

  Glamour Shots Studio and Nail Salon was downtown, and the AC was working overtime between the heat and all the chemicals floating around inside.

  Agatha was dressed in her usual yoga pants and an olive drab, sleeveless sports top, and her pants were rolled up to her knees as her feet soaked in a whirling bath.

  “Girl,” Heather said, sipping on a glass of boxed wine the owner had poured her as soon as they came in. “I’ve got no idea what I’m going to do about Buck’s funeral. It says in the will that he wants me to send him off in style, and I’m the only one he trusts to do it just how he’d like it. That’s a lot of pressure.”

  Heather’s hair was wrapped in tin-foil and her head was stuck under a dryer.

  “Why?” Agatha asked. “Funeral homes do this every day. Just hire a good one, get a band and a caterer and you’ve got yourself a funeral.”

  “It has to be spectacular,” she said. “Everyone is going to be staring at me. They hate me.”

  “When have you ever cared about that?” Agatha asked.

  A tear slipped down Heather’s cheek. “Never,” she said, barely audible over the hair dryer. “It’s not really about me. I just don’t want to be a distraction. He deserves to be honored for the generous man he was.”

  “I can understand that, and it’s very sweet that you’ve considered Buck’s wishes first.” Agatha said. “I’m sure you’ll do exactly what he wants.”

  “What he’d want is for all the women to show up in bikinis, and for the strippers he liked to watch every week do a headliner show. He’d want streamers and booze and a heck of a party. He’d want it to last a whole week, just like John McCain, with all the pomp and circumstance he felt he deserved.”

  “Well…” Agatha said. Because she couldn’t think of anything else other than she really hoped Heather didn’t asked her to be her plus one for the funeral.

  Dot Williams owned the shop, but she’d never done hair a day in her life, so she hired two stylists to take care of hair and nails, and she dealt with the glamour shot side of things. Dot kept watching their conversation like a tennis match, but she couldn’t hear all the gossip because she was trying to help three high school seniors decide which backdrop would look the least hideous for their graduation pics.

  “Whatever you do,” Agatha said, “I’m sure it’ll be amazing.”

  “I love you so much, Agatha,” Heather said, tearing up. “You’re my best friend in the whole world, and if I hadn’t had you during all this, I just don’t know what I would’ve done.”

  Dot harrumphed. “If you’d been with your man in Rusty Gun instead of playing the merry widow over and over again just so you can take their money, maybe you wouldn’t end up in these situations.”

  Heather gasped and would’ve come up out of the chair if her head hadn’t been stuck in the dryer.

  “How about you mind your own business,” Agatha said.

  “I don’t have to watch anything,” she said. “This is my shop, and I’m tired of hearing about your hoity-toity problems. Maybe a salon in the city would be more your style.”

  “Oh, it is,” Heather said. “But I like to patronize local businesses so they have a fighting chance. I’m happy to stop that though and tell all my friends to do the same.”

  Agatha’s eyes widened and she took her feet out of the water just in case she had to break up a fight.

  “Ooh, I’m so scared,” Dot said. “Everybody knows you don’t have any friends. No one’s going to listen to you. How about you rich girls learn how to work for a living instead of depending on men to suck dry.”

  “Umm…” Agatha said. “I work hard, and I’ve earned every penny I’ve ever made. Your jealousy is showing Dot. And green isn’t a pretty color on you.”

  Dot scowled at her. “Yeah, writing words on a page is really hard. Give me a break. And this one,” she said, pointing at Heather, “Apparently works her way through the town on her back. I didn’t know prostitution was legal in Rusty Gun. Maybe I need to bring it up at the council meeting.”

  “Are you on drugs, Dot?” Agatha asked. “Or maybe you need to be.”

  “I went out to walk my dog the other night and this one and Deputy Karl were going at it behind the water plant. What? The pay by the hour motel wasn’t good enough for you? I was stuck there until they finished.”

  “Or you could’ve turned around and walked away, pervert,” Heather said. “Once again, mind your own business you sicko.”

  “If Sheriff Coil was doing his job, maybe this type of public fornication would end,” she said. “If he’s going to let his deputies whore around with the city trash, then the whole town is doomed.”

  Heather and Agatha both gasped at that, and Agatha jumped up and took a step between Heather and Dot. The foil on Heather’s head was all but shooting with electricity.

  “Let’s get out of here, Heather,” Agatha said. “She clearly doesn’t need the business, and she’ll never get mine again.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Heather said a little too sweetly. “Wouldn’t it be nice to go around and tell everyone who did my hair today? You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Dot? To service the town trash?” Heather’s words were clipped and furious, but there was a rage inside them that scared Agatha to death, and Dot must’ve seen it too.

  Heather pulled the foils out of her hair one by one and dropped them on the ground.

  “You don’t scare me,” Dot said. “And unlike everyone else, you can’t buy me. Things will be very different with a new sheriff in town.”

  “A new sheriff?” Agatha asked. “Yeah, right.”

  “Oddie (Odie?) McElroy is gonna set this county straight. He’s from Belton, and he’s more qualified to be Sheriff of this place. Coil belongs in jail with those two dirty cops that just got arrested.” Dot’s smile was pure evil. “I know things you could only hope to know. Change in Rusty Gun is coming.”

  Dot’s words caused an ominous feeling to prickle the hairs on Agatha’s arms, but she and Heather grabbed their purses, put on their shoes, and opened the door.

  “I think the chemicals have gone to your brain, Dot Williams,” Agatha said. “You’re nothing but trouble. But I can tell you, whatever you’ve got cooked up behind that evil smile, will get you nothing but trouble. If you try to cause trouble for us or Sheriff Coil, he’ll bury you. And no wannabe from Belton is going to swoop in and save you.”

  With that, A
gatha slammed the door behind her and walked out into the harsh summer sun.

  “I need to find Hank,” Agatha said.

  “And I need to get this bleach out of my hair before it all falls out. Thanks for busting me out of prison, but I’m tired now and am going home. Take it from someone who has experienced jail. Don’t do anything stupid where Dot is concerned.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Agatha said. Heather’s hair was stiff and white and stuck up in tufts from where she’d pulled out the foil. She looked a sight. “But I wouldn’t be heartbroken if her business burned to the ground.”

  Heather shot her a grin and then got in the passenger seat of Agatha’s Jeep. “You’re a good friend. Now get me to a sink as fast as you can.”

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  Sneak Peek: Tequila Mockingbird

  Tuesday

  The first hints of fall blew in with a bite, the leaves shivering on the trees and the clouds fighting to hide the sun. But for Agatha Harley, October brought melancholy and other emotions she wasn’t entirely comfortable dealing with. Her parents had been married in October some sixty years before. And they died in October a decade ago.

  She’d missed her jog that morning, and instead, lingered under the covers until the scent of coffee she’d timed to brew the night before had lured her into the kitchen. She’d slept in gray sweats and thick fuzzy socks in orange and white stripes, and she’d shuffled out onto the front porch to drink her coffee and try to get her thoughts under control.

  Hank had messaged her asking if she’d wanted company. He’d remembered. And despite having that tough guy exterior and an intimidation factor that could scare people away at twenty paces, he had a sweet heart. But she hadn’t wanted company. Her mood called for solitude.