Faux Pas

by Shannon Esposito

  ‘No.’ She shrugged. ‘I didn’t plan for this. I just knew that you were hell bent on figuring out who killed Celeste to get Ira off the hook. And you running around with a gun could be dangerous for me. You should have heeded the warning I left on your car, Elle.’

  ‘Oh god. You’re the one who hit me on the head.’ Whatever detachment about my predicament I had achieved suddenly evaporated. Like someone had just ripped my clothes off, I suddenly felt exposed. Vulnerable. And quite mortal. I began to shake violently.

  Bonnie studied me with a calculating stare. ‘Sorry about that. Hope it didn’t hurt too much. I do like you, Elle. I will shoot you if I have to, but I’d like to find a less violent way to kill you. After all, you did risk your neck for me, coming here. Not very smart, but appreciated.’ She pursed her lips in thought. ‘You didn’t even contact the police before you came, did you? Obedient little Elle.’

  I shook my head. Maybe I could play on her sense of empathy, if she even had any. ‘The text said you would be killed if I did.’

  ‘So you told no one, not even your boyfriend about the text?’

  ‘No,’ I lied. There was no way I was going to put Devon in danger, too.

  ‘Like I said. Not very bright if that’s true.’ While she contemplated my demise, I tried to push through the red panic in my brain and think about my survival. Going for the gun was risky. She was bigger and stronger than me, and I had acquired enough respect of a gun’s power at the range that I wasn’t willing to take the chance. But the syringe full of Botox in my bag? That I had control of. I just needed an opportunity to get it out of the bag. I needed to distract her.

  ‘But, I did leave the front door open, remember? Anyone walking along the beach can see it’s wide open and call security.’

  Bonnie’s eyes narrowed and she sat up straighter. ‘Mm.’ She stood up, the chair scraping the floor loudly. ‘Well, we don’t need anyone just waltzing into our little private party, do we? I’m going to go lock the door. Please don’t try anything. Like I said, I really don’t want to shoot you. It’s painful.’ She backed up slowly toward the front door, gun still held on me.

  I knew I would only have a brief few seconds when she would lose sight of me behind the foyer wall. When those seconds came, I dove my hand into my bag, snatched the needle and pulled it back out quick as a flash. Then I placed my hands back on the table. My heart was doing a fairly good impression of a jackhammer now.

  She stalked back toward me, holding my gaze. I tried desperately to calm down. Not give away the prize in my hand. She stood right over me. I could smell her familiar perfume. Her expression was now pure determination. Her cold blue gaze was making me shake more. She suddenly grabbed my bag and shoved her hand inside. ‘So, where is it?’

  My throat closed, thinking for a brief, insane moment she somehow knew about the Botox I had.

  But she pulled her hand back out empty. ‘Where’s your cell phone?’

  I was starting to become suffocated by my own anxiety. I just shook my head. She sat back across from me and hit the table with her fist. I jumped.

  ‘You left it there. I guess it’s time for us to part ways then.’ She cocked her head at me. ‘Botox has been so easy, but I didn’t have time to get more. You were an unplanned snag. Do you know why I chose this house for our final meeting?’

  I shook my head, the only thing keeping me sane at the moment was the hope of being able to use the syringe gripped in my palm.

  She pointed at the ceiling. ‘Look up.’

  I did as she said. Wires hung from a small hole in the high ceiling. I didn’t understand. I guess it showed in my face because she enlightened me.

  ‘After the kitchen fire, the Yateses decided to replace the whole fire and security system with some state-of-the-art mumbo jumbo. So convenient for me that it’s not installed yet. The rich,’ she snorted, ‘they spend half their time buying things and the other half figuring out how to keep them.’

  She rested her chin on her hand. The gun was still angled toward me, but her grip had loosened. I noticed this with a detached awareness, like I wasn’t the person about to be killed, but someone outside watching all this go down.

  ‘A few people at the spa have heard you express interest in buying this bungalow since Nan Yates won’t step foot in it again. So my plan makes sense. You thought if there was another fire, she’d just dump the place to get rid of it, and you could get it even cheaper. Only—’ she shook her head sadly – ‘the small fire you meant to set got out of control and … you died in it. Such a tragedy. But, look at the bright side. You will die in your dream house.’

  I stared at her horrified. Death by fire? I would rather be shot. The thought brought me back into my body. I was suddenly struggling for air. ‘You … can’t …’ The words were just whispers. The syringe was getting slick in my fist as I broke out in a sweat. ‘Please …’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry.’ She waved off my concern. ‘You’ll pass out from the smoke before the fire gets you, won’t feel a thing.’ She raised an eyebrow and shook her head. ‘Unless you pass out from that panic attack first. Those may be a blessing in disguise for you after all.’ She stood, pushing the chair away from the table and backed up toward the kitchen. Moving to the counter where her purse sat, she used her free hand to pull out a lighter, keeping the gun pointed at me.

  I was bent over the table now, desperately trying to slow my breathing, even though what my body screamed for was to suck in as much air as possible. I was hyperventilating. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to block out the situation I was in for just a moment. I needed to pull myself together. It almost worked. Then I smelled smoke.

  Oh god. This was really happening. I thought of my mom. And Hope. And Buddha and … Devon. I didn’t want to leave any of them.

  My eyes flew open, and I flung myself back in the chair. Tears had now joined the sweat on my face and neck. I stared at the curtains framing the sliding glass doors. They were engulfed in living flames. Gray smoke poured from them, filling the room. The flames were already licking at the ceiling. I turned, frozen by fear and disbelief as Bonnie marched over to the wicker furniture in the living room. Picking up a pillow, she held the lighter to it until a flame caught and then she placed it on the sofa cushion. She walked around, lighting anything in the house that would burn easily. Black smoke billowed from the living room. A thin layer of it reached me at the table. Bonnie was already coughing. I knew she’d have to leave the house soon. Gun or no gun, I had to make my move.

  Unnaturally calm for just setting a house on fire and about to commit murder once again, Bonnie moved toward me, her free hand lifting the collar of her shirt over her mouth and nose.

  I forced my weak, shaking legs to hold me up as I stood and braced myself upright with my fists on the table. This made Bonnie laugh. My whole body suddenly shook with something other than fear: rage mixed with a need to survive.

  The table was still between us as she grabbed the piece of rope I had untied from her hands what seemed like a lifetime ago.

  ‘Your turn,’ she said, holding up the rope. As she came around the table she added, ‘You should know, I have to go get that cell phone. I can’t have a record of that text message getting out. And if your boyfriend’s there, I’ll have to shoot him.’

  With my gun. The gun he bought me the day he first kissed me.

  A thicker layer of smoke floated toward us. When she got within a few feet of me, I tightened the muscles in my legs, pulling up my kneecaps and grounded myself to the floor for balance. Something a decade of yoga had taught me.

  I saw her reach for me out of the corner of my eye.

  ‘I’m sorry, too.’ I swung my right arm as hard as I could, knocking the gun from her hand. I heard it hit the floor and slide. Taking advantage of her surprise, I raised my left hand and tried to plunge the syringe into her throat. Her surprise didn’t last long enough, however. Her arm shot up and knocked the syringe out of my hand. I cried out in frustration. T
hen in pain as her fist hit me square in the jaw. My shoulder crunched as I hit the tile floor hard, knocking my head on the table on the way down.

  Black spots mingled with the smoke in my vision. Fighting the sharp influx of pain in my head, I tried to stay conscious.

  ‘Guess I don’t need the rope after all. Good. More like an accident. Stupid girl.’ Muttering to herself, she gave me one last kick in the stomach. Any hope of fighting back was now gone. I sputtered and gasped for air, only managing to suck in smoke, starting the coughing fit all over again. Dropping to her knees, she crawled away toward the direction the gun had slid.

  Stay awake, Elle. I coughed and choked. I fought to keep my eyes opened. They burned now. Along with my lungs. I felt myself drifting. Suddenly Bonnie’s face was in mine. Her smile manic. Her face a sheen of sweat. She poked me in the cheek with the gun. She had recovered it. I was already too far gone to care. She growled, ‘I’ll tell him you said goodbye.’

  Then she was gone. I heard the door slam. Like the lid of a coffin.

  I was alone. I stared at the tile next to me through watery eyes. It was as far as I could see. Everything else was an opaque gray. I could hear the crackle of the fire and a whoosh as it consumed something new. The tile was cool against my cheek. A nice contrast to the heat now reaching me. My breathing had slowed. Become shallow. My throat burned. My stomach ached. Then, suddenly, it didn’t. A calmness came over me. A peace. I let my eyes close. It felt so good not to fight any more.

  TWENTY-NINE

  A muffled bark, millions of miles away touched my awareness. I felt the sun on my face. And Buddha was there. Grief washed over me like the tide as I wrapped my arms around him one last time. ‘Goodbye, my friend.’ As I held him, the barking grew more insistent. Then a feathery pressure, like a tongue lapping frantically at my eyelids. My cheek. My mouth.

  A violent cough assaulted my lungs and throat. My eyes fluttered open.

  The world was a blur. I could still feel the sun on my back. A sharp bark sounded right in my ear. Between bone-rattling coughs, I tried to get my bearings. Something was tugging at my shirt. I wanted to close my eyes again. But, the infuriating barking wouldn’t stop. Then the licking started again. Licking. Barking. I fought my way to consciousness once again.

  Angel’s sweet face came into focus. Her sharp bark echoed in my head.

  I smiled at her. Are we in heaven together? Wait …

  My eyes opened wider. Unless heaven was paved with Saltillo tile, I wasn’t dead … yet. I had to get out of here. I pulled my T-shirt up over my mouth and began the slow belly crawl toward the front door. My stomach and head were throbbing. Angel had disappeared in the smoke. Then she reappeared to my right. Had I gotten disorientated? I decided that was a possibility and pulled myself along in her direction. My hand hit something small, and I realized it was the syringe. Unbroken. I palmed it in case Bonnie was lurking outside, making sure I didn’t get out. A coughing fit slowed me down. Then I suddenly remembered her last words. ‘I’ll tell him you said goodbye.’

  Devon! She was going back for my phone. How long had I been out? Was that sirens in the distance? With a cry of frustration, I pulled myself along the floor with one hand, holding the syringe and my T-shirt over my face with the other.

  I could see the flames through the smoke now. But, I could also feel the change of tile signaling the front entryway. With one last bit of determination, I launched myself forward and my hand hit the door.

  Frantically, I lifted myself to a kneeling position and found the handle. When the door swung open and I tumbled out into the fresh salty-air, euphoria washed over me. A gratefulness to be alive that made me want to kiss the earth. But there was no time for that. I crawled away from the front door and pulled myself upright on the outside stucco wall. Bonnie’s car was gone. There wasn’t a part of me, inside or out that wasn’t bruised or singed. My breathing was still mostly coughing and hacking. But, most importantly, my heart was being torn apart not knowing if Devon was safe. Pushing off the wall, I let the momentum carry me forward down to the edge of the sand. I had lost my flip-flops somewhere in the house so the shells were digging into my bare soles. The pain was welcomed. It kept me alert. Unlike the dull pain in my head and stomach that made me want to crawl into a ball and pass out. I swiped at the tears rolling freely down my face. I could definitely hear sirens approaching now.

  The moon hung, round and full above. I let that be my focus as I forced my legs to carry me back to Devon’s house.

  The first thing I noticed was Devon’s Jeep wasn’t in the driveway. That was a good thing. He hadn’t come back yet. And Bonnie’s car wasn’t in the driveway either. But then, the second thing I noticed was the dogs barking. Coming from the backyard. I had left the dogs in the house. Someone had been in there. All the scenarios raced through my head.

  Would Bonnie wait there to ambush Devon? No. She wouldn’t need to kill him if she could grab my phone and leave before he came back. That’s all she wanted. The evidence of the text gone. I needed to see if my phone was still on the counter where I’d left it. I muffled a cough with my arm and holding my stomach, snuck through the bushes to peer through the kitchen window. I had a clear view of the counter. The phone was gone.

  My head dropped in frustration. Now what? Trying to think clearly after someone tries to kill you is not the easiest thing in the world to do.

  The sirens had grown in pitch and shut off. The dogs were still barking. I could see red flashing lights over the bungalow roofs. The fire department then. At least we had one of those on the island. If Devon had normal neighbors, I could ask them to use their phone. But, I knew they only came to stay there in the winter. I’d have to go back and ask the firemen for help. But then, what if Bonnie is hiding in the house and Devon comes home when I leave?

  Think. Think. Think. If she checked the phone, she’d see I had actually called him before I left. That would put him in danger. The dogs’ barking sounded like a warning. If Bonnie just went in, grabbed the phone and left, they wouldn’t still be barking. I had to make sure she wasn’t in there. I still had the syringe full of toxin for protection. My decision was made. I’d sneak in and search the house. I couldn’t go in the front door though, in case she was waiting for Devon to come home. Luckily, old habits die hard, and I had left the guest bedroom window unlocked. We didn’t use the air conditioner much growing up so I always had a window open and still slept better with a window cracked to let in the fresh air, despite the summer heat. I’d have to thank Mom for her frugalness if I ever saw her again.

  I snuck around the side of the house and, shoving the syringe in the waistband of my pants, I removed the screen and pushed open the window. It slid it up quietly to allow me entrance. The bedroom was various shades of shadow. I could only hope one of them wasn’t Bonnie.

  Grabbing the edge of the dresser for balance, I stepped over my suitcase then tiptoed toward the door. With just one eye and my nose exposed, I peered down the squat hallway. A faint light from the kitchen beyond the living room was the only illumination in the bungalow. I could now hear the dogs scratching at the glass doors.

  Taking a deep breath, I stepped out into the hallway and slid along the wall. A cough began to tickle my throat, and I had to use superhuman concentration to keep it at bay. I was directly across from the guest bath now. My heart jumped, and I almost screamed. Then I realized it was just my sweat-and-smoke-covered image reflected in the bathroom mirror. OK, calm down, Elle, you’ve got this. Look at what you’ve survived already.

  Pep talk over, I stepped out of my hiding place and began to cross the living room. What happened next seemed to be out of a slow-motion movie.

  The front door flew open and Devon was suddenly standing there, his face streaked with black smoke, his gun gripped in both hands, his face a mask of unchecked fear.

  ‘Elle!’ I heard the surprise and anguish in his voice. ‘Get down!’

  A laugh echoed behind me. And then a BOOM! Came from
the same direction. The impact rattled my eardrums. At the same time, I saw Devon hit the floor. In horror, I whirled around and saw Bonnie standing behind the sofa. A swirl of gray smoke was still coming out of the barrel of the gun in her hands. Her eyes were full of rage as she swiveled her stance to now aim at me.

  Something dark and primal ripped itself from my grip. I launched myself at her, not caring whether she planted a bullet in my chest. She had shot Devon. I would get my revenge before I died. My right foot hit the sofa, and I flew over it and into her, screaming like a wild animal, knocking us both to the floor.

  The dogs’ barking intensified. The gun went off again, next to my ear. I screamed again, not in pain, but in surprise. As she grabbed me by the hair, I reached between us, flicked the rubber end off of the needle full of Botox and plunged it into her neck.

  Her eyes bulged. Then I felt her body go limp. I scrambled, pushing myself off of her. Wiping the sweat and smoke from my eyes, I stared at her as she began to laugh. She laughed so hard, she dropped the gun and wiped at her own eyes. Then she plucked the needle from her neck.

  ‘Nice try, Elle.’

  I stared down at her, confused. It didn’t work?

  ‘It’s not that simple,’ she explained between her laughing fits. ‘You have to—’ she clutched her stomach – ‘to hit the oesophagus.’

  Panic rose again but then I followed her gaze. Devon stood above us, his gun pointed at Bonnie with one hand, his cell phone in the other. Blood had soaked through his white shirt on the arm holding the gun. It dripped and puddled on the floor. I watched this with detached fascination. I’d never seen so much blood.

  ‘Elle? You all right?’ he asked without taking his eyes from Bonnie.

  His voice was so raw, so gentle, it broke me. Brought me out of the numbness. ‘Yes,’ I managed to whisper before I collapsed into a sobbing ball against the back of the sofa.

  I felt him instantly at my side. A strong arm pulled me in close. He made the necessary calls while I shook beside him. I heard him call Moon Key security first, then Salma. I also heard him trying to explain the impossible situation of Bonnie being the killer and attacking us and finally just giving up and saying, ‘Get here ASAP.’