Bound and Deceased

by Rothery, Tess

  “Just get his phone.” Dayton sounded unimpressed. “I’ll get what you need from it.”

  “I’m a great pickpocket.” Nervous anxiety made Aviva shake in her seat.

  “Where is he?” Cooper asked.

  Taylor held her breath, then texted Sissy. “Is Monty around?”

  “He just got here. He’s watching TV with Fawn and Una.”

  “He’s at the house. Go together. Do whatever you have to.” Taylor wanted to go with them but was afraid he’d think something was up. Especially if he went outside and saw the summer kitchen was locked up. “And hurry.”

  “Just bring it back here,” Dayton said. “I’ll be waiting.”

  Taylor patted Dayton’s thin shoulder. “Thanks.”

  Aviva and Cooper left, him holding the door for her, then grabbing her hand as she passed.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Dayton said. “Go back to business as usual and I’ll wait here. We’ll get what you need.”

  “Can I get you anything? A Coke, popcorn, whatever?”

  “Why not?” Dayton smiled softly. It was a pretty smile, and it made Taylor wonder why Cooper ever thought he loved anyone else. Maybe the Dayton-Cooper saga was one that would play out over the many years and find them at a wedding long after they had given up hope, like Jason and Gilly. Or maybe Taylor was making too much of this, and like so many kids raised together in a small town, these two probably felt more like siblings than anything else.

  Taylor ran downstairs, threw some popcorn in the microwave and grabbed a generic Coke from the mini fridge. She slowed down to breathe while she waited. She had to quit running, quit panicking. She knew her actions were being spurred by the primal fear that comes from traumatic past experiences. She knew that, but she didn’t know what to do about it.

  Maybe catching this killer would sooth the overfiring amygdala in her brain. But maybe it wouldn’t.

  When the microwave beeped, Taylor jumped.

  She desperately needed to unwind.

  “Hey, hey, Tay.” The voice from her past hit her like a slap.

  “Damn it, Clay. What’s your problem?”

  “I’m wet, cold, lonely, full of regret, and desperate to be absolved.”

  Taylor grabbed the popcorn and Coke and went upstairs.

  He had the nerve to follow her.

  She flung the door open, shoved the snacks at the teenager who was about to make a major dent in the unofficial investigation, then turned to Clay, seething. “I don’t know how many ways there are to say this but let me try one more time: Go home. I don’t want you here.”

  “But you need me?” He spoke in an almost baby voice, eyebrows raised slightly, corners of mouth upturned.

  Taylor had never wanted to hit anyone more in her life.

  Cooper and Aviva rushed in. “Seconds!” Cooper shouted. “It took her literally seconds. We drove there, so that was just like half a minute. Monty and everyone were just hanging out in the back room with the TV, I could hear it, but his coat was on a hook. She grabbed it and we ran again.” He was moony over the girl.

  It was hardly pickpocketing to take something from a coat on a hanger.

  Cooper tossed the phone to Dayton who went straight to work.

  Aviva shoved passed Clay who stood a couple of feet in front of the door. She draped herself over Dayton’s shoulder, to watch the action;

  “Aviva, I need to talk to you.” Taylor called the girl over.

  Taylor took Aviva to the side of the room with the kitchen wall. “So, you got the phone, did you notice anything else while you were in there?”

  Aviva bit her bottom lip, then looked up and to the left, a sign Taylor had once heard that meant someone was about to lie.

  From the other side of the small room, Cooper answered for Aviva. “Nothing. There was nothing to notice. We were too fast. I tell you, she’s good.”

  Aviva blushed and smiled at Cooper.

  A hand brushed Taylor’s elbow. “Let’s talk downstairs.” Clay’s voice was in her ear. His breath sent uncomfortable shivers down her neck.

  “Back off.” Taylor stepped away from him.

  He stepped with her.

  “The lady said back off!” Cooper shoved Clay.

  Cooper was a solid twelve years younger than Clay Seldon. And taller. And fitter. But that didn’t seem to impress Clay. He squared his shoulders, cocked his elbow and punched Cooper in the face.

  “What the—?” Aviva seemed to act without thinking, and kicked Clay in the balls, hard, landing in a defensive pose. “Black belt. Classic Karate.”

  Clay was doubled over, hands on his crotch, his face red, and his forehead sweaty.

  “She said back off,” Aviva repeated.

  “What the hell, Taylor?”

  “I said back off.” Taylor shrugged

  “Got it,” Dayton’s exclamation was quiet, clearly not for attention.

  Taylor looked over and spotted that soft smile.

  “A standing order at Amazon for willow bark extract delivered to the thrift store. Willow bark is the salicylate that makes Aspirin work. He’s been getting it weekly for two months.”

  “About the same time Reynette and Art started to get serious.” Taylor’s heart was racing again, and her mind spinning—a tornado of murder, Clay’s advances, and the sudden outbreak of violence.

  “Exactly.” Dayton held the phone out. “Too bad it wouldn’t be admissible in court.”

  “I’m working on that.” Taylor began to pace and wondered how badly Reg the cop wanted to pay her back for her help in the crime against Isaiah’s dog, ten years ago. She couldn’t think it was enough to accept illegally acquired evidence.

  “We’ll have to get him to confess.” Aviva remained in her defensive stance, though her hands were lowered.

  Cooper was washing his face at the kitchen sink, though it seemed his nose was still bleeding.

  “He’ll have to do it in front of witnesses.” Dayton stood. “And we’re a lot of witnesses. Let’s go.”

  Cooper turned off the sink and followed his friend. Aviva was torn, watching them head out the door, but unwilling to leave her post.

  “Come, on, we have bigger fish to fry.” Taylor sounded like her grandfather.

  Clay caught Taylor’s eye and gave her the most pathetic puppy dog look she’d ever seen.

  She snorted. “You, too. You’re not hanging out up here.”

  He gathered himself up and followed her out.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  They paused in the parking area behind the shop, sheltered by the dumpsters. Taylor stared at her motley and young crew. “I don’t have a plan, but anyone who is underage needs to do their very best to avoid an assault charge, and also avoid making a murderer angry with you. Got it?”

  Cooper had his head tilted back to stop the dripping of his nose.

  “You’ll choke.” Taylor tipped his head forward. “Why don’t you and Clay, um…” She was going to suggest staying put, but she didn’t like that. Too much like inviting Clay to stick around. “Why don’t you lead the way, looking for your mom. Tell her about the assault and see what kind of distraction you can create.”

  “Hey now!” Clay said.

  “Suck it up. You punched a kid. Go. We’ll be right behind.”

  Cooper stormed off. If he wasn’t thrilled to be cast as tattle-tell, he didn’t complain. As he had only just turned seventeen, a small part of him might actually value seeking his mother at this moment. Clay gave Taylor one last appeal, with those big eyes of his, but followed.

  “We’ll come right behind them.” Taylor directed this to Dayton. “We have to turn the conversation to Reynette.”

  “Easy,” Aviva interrupted. “I just jump in and say I kicked Clay because I’m still traumatized by what happened to her right in front of me. And I kind of talk a lot anyway so I can just go off on how I knew Reynette was poisoned and what kind of idiot would do that…if I get some solid burns in, he’s bound to confess. A mur
derer who’s proud of his work will have to correct me.”

  It sounded iffy to Taylor, but at least it would get the conversation started.

  “No,” Dayton said. “No to the second part. The first part is good though. After that, I think we all rush around Sissy and ask how she’s doing, the trauma and all that.”

  “Does she need a warning in advance?” Aviva asked.

  Taylor shook her head. “No, she’ll catch on. Listen though, Una is there, and maybe Breadyn. They’re just kids. We can’t do anything that puts them in danger. I feel rotten enough involving you all.”

  “I’ll take them outside,” Dayton said. “I’m the least connected here. Aviva, you get really wild, crying or something. No insults though. I still think that’s the wrong tact to take.”

  “But you’re the one who found the evidence.” Taylor felt bad leaving Dayton out of the good part.

  Dayton tossed Taylor the phone. “I just opened an app he was logged into. It was nothing.”

  “Take the girls out back.” Taylor wanted someone between Monty and the physical evidence in that summer kitchen. But at the same time, she didn’t want the kids in danger. “No, take them down the block to the park. I’ll call my friend Reg and see if he can’t come down and be handy for the confession.”

  “But how will we get the confession? I still think we badger him.”

  “We might,” Taylor nodded as she spoke, to affirm Aviva, who was definitely going to be a player in their final show down. “But let’s read the situation and improv as needed, okay?”

  “I’ll try my best.”

  Cooper and Clay had a good head start, so Taylor led the way to Art’s house.

  She ran the layout of the house through her mind as they walked, ticking off each thing she knew as means of calming her racing thoughts.

  The TV room that Cooper had mentioned must have been the back parlor, or the second formal room, or whatever it used to be called.

  Fawn must have set the TV up just because Una was with them.

  It would be fastest to get to that room via the mudroom off the kitchen, if the door was unlocked and Taylor was letting herself in, but perhaps it was more normal to go the front door, since she wasn’t with Sissy or Cooper or anyone who had a family tie.

  And with a murderer in the house, she wanted to seem as normal as possible.

  Taylor didn’t want to rely on these young adults, these people who were really just children, to lead her. Fight or flight was driving her brain, but she had to focus, had to harness the energy and make rational decisions. If she was trying to exorcize the demon fear, she had to grasp hold of her decisions and drive this action.

  The house loomed before them, standing on its large piece of land, surrounded by similar historic homes. Quiet. Stern even, with its faded gray exterior and trees, gnarled with time and naked for the winter. “Front door.”

  The kids followed.

  Taylor knocked, then opened it with a friendly but loud, “Hey, Sissy?”

  “Back here!” Sissy’s voice carried like always.

  Taylor pushed the door open with a shaking hand. She held her breath as she crossed the threshold. Then, looking back to see that Aviva and Dayton were in reach in case she needed to throw herself on them, she pushed herself to the back of the house.

  The TV was turned off. Una and Breadyn sat on an old gingham covered bench looking at their phones.

  Clay sat in a recliner with a bag of frozen peas on his lap.

  Cooper had a matching bag on his nose, but stood in the kitchen doorway, effectively blocking Monty from easy access to the back yard.

  Monty and Fawn were on a love seat, his arm over the back of the couch. He looked amused, but she looked tired.

  Sissy stood in the middle of it all with her arms crossed, her face red. Taylor knew she’d play along, but she had forgotten Sissy might be legitimately pissed off at Clay for punching Cooper.

  Taylor nudged Aviva forward; this was her show now.

  Aviva looked at Monty, and all of the color drained from her face.

  She wavered—her thin body like a baby tree on a windy day.

  Taylor put a hand on Aviva’s back.

  Aviva slipped under Taylor’s touch in one smooth, fluid motion.

  Taylor grabbed for her, but was slow, and Aviva landed on the wood floor with a thud that shook the room.

  Taylor dropped to the floor and fanned Aviva’s pale face.

  Dayton stood, mouth agape.

  Breadyn laughed.

  Monty laughed. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “Low blood sugar,” Sissy snapped. “Stupid kids. What have you been doing? Don’t you know she’s hypoglycemic? You’ve had her running around all day, stressing her out, haven’t you?” Sissy glared at her son.

  “No, I swear.”

  “And you—” She turned to Clay. “Do you have any idea the kind of stress you put her under making her kick you like that? She had to quit karate because it was too hard on her physically.”

  “Hey now, I didn’t tell her to kick me.”

  “Dumb ass.” Monty laughed again. “Was this really the guy you were living with?” The scorn in his voice was too much for Taylor. She wanted Aviva to rise up from her faint and kick him in the balls too.

  “Watch your language,” Sissy snapped. “We have kids in the room.”

  Monty laughed again.

  Fawn patted his knee. “Come on, please?” Her voice had lost the strength and energy she’d had taking care of Una.

  Taylor hated Monty for whatever it was he had done to that nice lady, and also for being a murderer.

  “We all make mistakes with men, don’t we Fawn?” Taylor replied.

  Fawn went pale.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Monty leaned forward.

  “It just means we fall in love for superficial reasons and stick with them because it seems better than being alone, no matter how much just being anywhere near them ruins us as people.”

  “Come on Tay,” Clay said. “I never ruined you.”

  “No, and you didn’t kill my mother either. We can’t all be so lucky.” Taylor spoke with her eyes locked on Monty.

  Cooper cleared his throat.

  Aviva shivered on the floor where she lay, then lifted her head a little. She opened her eyes, shook her head slightly, then lay back down. Taylor could hardly blame her.

  “Hey, girls, why don’t we um get out of here?” Dayton held out a hand for the two younger girls.

  They showed no inclination to leave.

  “Taylor, maybe you should sit.” Fawn’s voice was a whisper.

  “Or maybe you should stand. I think the time has come.”

  Monty laughed. “Fawn’s never needed to stand. Not with Reynette around to do everything for her.”

  “Then she’d better learn, huh? Because her mom’s dead and you’re going to prison.”

  “You need to watch your ugly mouth.” Monty’s face contorted in anger.

  “Taylor is a lot of things, but she’s far from ugly.” This was Clay’s attempt to knock the tension out with humor. In his discomfort with all things conflict-like, he had forgotten that creating a scene and driving Monty to a confession was the whole goal.

  “Let me get you all a drink.” Fawn did stand, one hand angled toward Monty as though asking him to stay seated. “Something to take the edge off.”

  Taylor realized, as she stood there, that she hadn’t invited Reg over. She shivered in fear and reached for a wall. They might get Monty to confess, but then what? If he had a gun, it was over for all of them. “You know what I could use? A nice, cold kombucha. Got any?” The words were shaky and full of fear. Taylor stepped one foot forward in an imitation of Aviva’s karate pose to compensate.

  Monty smirked.

  “Mom has some. Let me just go outside.” Fawn walked to the door Cooper was blocking with faltering steps.

  “Let her pass, Coop,” Taylor said.

  “I kno
w what you’re doing,” Monty said. “And I think you’re an idiot.”

  “I’ve been called worse.”

  “Here’s the deal,” Clay spoke up again. “I may have just been knocked down by a teenage girl, but if I hear you say one more nasty thing about the smartest, most beautiful, caring and good woman who ever walked this Earth, I will come over there and beat the ever living shit out of you.”

  “Language!” Sissy hollered. “We are not one of those families that screams profanity till the neighbors call the cops.”

  Taylor took a deep breath.

  She closed her eyes and gave herself to the count of three. It could work.

  That could work.

  She opened her mouth and yelled every profanity she could think of.

  All of them.

  Dayton, the only other person in the room who was thinking clearly, joined her.

  Cooper was a bit slower, but smart enough to open a window. Then he went outside. Taylor hoped he had his phone on him to call the cops about the domestic disturbance.

  Taylor stopped for a breath, but that was okay because somewhere in the middle of insulting Monty’s mother, and his mother’s mother, Monty had joined in the screaming.

  It was no confession of murder, but it was loud.

  He jumped from his seat and kicked over a stack of cartons. He called Taylor names she hadn’t heard since middle school.

  He picked up a small glass sculpture and threw it at the wall. It hit with a thud and slid down, not shattering. His fists flexed and he grabbed a small box, throwing it at Sissy.

  “Please stop, please stop. Oh, please stop.” Tears streamed down Fawn’s face.

  Guilt gripped Taylor’s gut. She hated compounding Fawn’s trauma, hated knowing that the end of this terrible scene was going to be even worse for her.

  “That’s enough.” Sissy grabbed Monty by the collar and glared down at his weasely face. She spun him, hooking his arm behind his back. “Aviva isn’t the only one who took karate.”

  “What’s your problem?” He twisted in her grip but couldn’t manage to free himself.

  “My problem is that my best friend is dead. My problem is that I think you killed her. My problem is you have her child under your thumb like a bully and it took Taylor Quinn pointing it out for me to notice.” The slightly disgusted way Sissy said Taylor Quinn made Taylor wonder, yet again, why she had gotten herself tangled up in this mess.