Twice Layered Murder

by Daphne DeWitt

Too bad I wasn’t quite sure what that was, yet.

  Having plopped on the plain bed, I found myself looking up at the ceiling, thinking about things.

  Had I really been brought back for this, to be falsely accused of a crime? A crime I might not even be able to solve?

  Surely not. Certainly, there was something bigger at play, some huge thing I needed to do, some wonderful work that I’d have to complete before I’d be able to be at peace.

  The longer I stared at that ceiling, the further back my thoughts went. First, it was high school, with Aiden’s hand in mine. Then, it was childhood, with Harvey helping me build a fort with cardboard boxes in the driveway. That one hurt a little.

  Then I started thinking back even further, to memories that couldn’t have possibly been real.

  I had this memory of my mother, of her face, of her arms around me, of her warm smile. But it couldn’t be true. She died literally minutes after I was born. If she ever held me, there was no way in the world that I’d actually remember it. So, even though I had the picture in my head as clear as day, I knew it couldn’t have been real.

  I never told anyone about that.

  I had lost track of time when the door opened. Otherwise I’d have been expecting it.

  Looking at what had to be the world’s last non-digital desk clock, I saw that I had been in this room for forty-five minutes, about standard time for the sheriff to have questioned Priscilla.

  “Took you long enough,” I said, without moving my body from my spot on the bed or my eyes from their spot on the ceiling.

  I didn’t need to look to know who it was. Sheriff Black would want to see this. And, without a two-way mirror to rely on, he would have to do this himself.

  “You’ll have to forgive me if I’m moving a little slow for your taste,” the sheriff said, venom in his voice. “The next time I arrest you, I’ll be sure to expedite the process.”

  “Arrest?” I said, sitting up and looking at Sheriff Black with cocked eyebrows. He looked sweaty and more than a little tired, which made sense given the heat and the extreme length of the day. “Am I to understand that I’ve been arrested? Because, if so, I’ve gotta say, I don’t remember being read my rights.”

  The pudgy man practically snorted at me.

  “You’re not arrested yet. You can thank my merciful demeanor for that.”

  “I was going to thank the sticky nature of the situation,” I said, folding my arms in front of my chest. “You know, the fact that you’re still trying desperately to keep this situation away from the media. The fact that I have a sheriff in my corner who’s holding your back against that constitutional wall we call the burden of proof, and the fact that you’ve got absolutely nothing to make any of this stick.” I leaned back again. “But by all means, if you are arresting me, let me know so that I can make my phone call. I think it’ll be to Action News 6.”

  “This isn’t a chess game, Ms. Redoux,” Sheriff Black sneered at me. “You either did it, or you didn’t. I’m not sure what impression you have of me. I’m guessing you think I’m some spineless jellyfish who bends to the will of whatever bigwig rich guy is lining my pockets on any particular day.”

  “It had occurred to me,” I answered sarcastically.

  “Well then, for a private eye, you’re not doing much critical thinking,” he answered.

  “I’m not a private eye,” I answered instinctively before remembering Rita Redoux’s backstory. “Anymore,” I amended. “I’m not a private eye anymore.”

  “I can see why,” he answered. “You don’t see people, Ms. Redoux. You want to call a gaggle of reporters, get them over here to make this the next great crime of the century.”

  “Whatever it takes to solve it,” I answered.

  “I don’t expect you to understand this, ma’am. You’re too young to remember when there was still such a thing as privacy in this world. Now, all of you have Facebook and Twitter. You know what your old college roommate had for breakfast last week and how many cavities the dentist found in his kid’s mouth last month. With your reality shows and selfie sticks, there’s nothing sacred.” He shook his head. “But that’s not true inside these walls.”

  “Is that a joke?” I balked. “Chloe Covington is on a reality show! It’s how they make their money!”

  “It’s not the only way they make their money, and it isn’t nearly enough,” Sheriff Black answered. “There’s a reason the show wasn’t invited to the ceremony, Ms. Redoux. Not everyone wants their life memorialized, especially in tougher moments.”

  Not nearly enough? Tougher moments? What was he talking about?

  “I care about one thing now, finding that precious young woman and bringing her back home safely. There’s only one way I can do that, and it isn’t by being prodded at from all angles by the media. I have to find the person responsible.” He leaned forward. “And, after what I just heard from Priscilla, there’s no doubt in my mind that that person is absolutely not you.”

  21

  Okay. Well, that certainly got my attention.

  I shot straight up, my body tensing. “Sorry, I think I misunderstood you. Did you just say that—”

  “That I know it wasn’t you who kidnapped Chloe or Priscilla,” he answered, without even a bit of sarcasm in his voice. “You heard me perfectly.”

  I looked at Sheriff Black for a long moment, unsure of how to continue. Finally, breaking the silence, I asked, “So, am I to understand that Priscilla admitted she lied about me earlier?”

  “Absolutely not,” he answered immediately. “She spun a yarn so convincing that any of those reporters you’re itching to call would have you tried and convicted before you even made it to the back of a squad car.”

  “But not you?” I asked, tilting my head to the side.

  “Like I said, I’m not some airheaded lemming, Ms. Redoux. I’m a good sheriff. I was a good detective before that. And I know a liar when I hear one.”

  “You know,” I said, leaning forward. “I think you and my father would like each other.”

  “I’m sure,” he answered. “Be that as it may, it leaves us in a –what did you call it- sticky situation.”

  “How so?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. “You just said you didn’t believe Priscilla’s story.”

  “Yes, but I believe she had a motive in telling it,” Sheriff Black answered. “She sat down in front of me and told me about being pulled away in the dark as soon as the video came on. Someone-you supposedly- put something over her mouth, knocking her out. She woke up in a dark and hot room, sweating all over. You sat down in front of her and told her about how obsessed you were with the show, with Chloe in particular. And you were going keep her forever, or some such nonsense.”

  “Obsessed with her?” I balked. “Before my head on collision with her fiancé, I didn’t even know who she was.”

  “I’m aware of that,” Sheriff Black answered. “I heard you speaking with your local sheriff earlier and, in questioning the other friends you came here with, I found the stories to be both believable and basically identical.” He shook his head. “And, that’s not all. She came running from the west. When I asked her about it, she told me that she was being held in the pool house.”

  “The pool house is where Debra and her security detail were set up,” I answered, remembering the detail from earlier.

  “Yes. Of course, there was no way Priscilla could have known that. In addition, the climate control has been broken in the pool house for the last three months.”

  “It’s comfortable outside today,” I said, realizing what Sheriff Black was getting at.

  “So, why would Priscilla be pouring sweat on a day like today in a place that has no way of getting above room temperature?”

  “Because she wasn’t really there,” I answered, snapping my fingers.

  “Yes, if she lied about that, then I’m wondering what else she lied about.” He set his jaw. “And more importantly, why.” Sheriff Black shook his head. “I’ve
heard of you, Ms. Redoux. The case you helped solve a few months ago back in Second Springs made waves…and the newspapers.”

  “I’m aware of that,” I answered. In fact, I was more than aware of it. Peggy had an article written about Darrin and me in the Second Springs Sentinel framed and placed on the wall of the pie shop right above the list of specials.

  I, of course, didn’t like to think about it much. Thinking about my accomplishment meant I’d have to think about where Harvey was right now. And I really didn’t want to do that.

  “So is that your intent with this case, Ms. Redoux; to solve it in the same off-kilter manner in which you did the first one?”

  “Off-kilter, on kilter; whatever works, I just want her home,” I answered.

  “I believe that,” Sheriff Black said, nodding at me. “But I’m afraid it doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, standing up.

  “It means, intentions aside, you’re a liability to this case. You’ve been pointed out, for whatever reason, and that means I can’t have you bouncing around this club looking for clues like one of Scooby Doo’s more comely cohorts.”

  He leaned back and pulled the door open.

  “We’re ready for you,” he said and turned his attention back to me.

  No sooner had the words left his mouth, did Darrin come striding into the room. Given that the last time these two were face to face ammunition was involved, it was safe to say that I was hoping for a calmer confrontation this time.

  But why was Darrin in the room at all? I didn’t like the look of this.

  “What’s going on here?” I asked, looking at Darrin.

  It was Sheriff Black who answered me, though. “I’m going to ask you to do something, Ms. Redoux. It will help me solve this case, but it’s not going to be something you’re going to look kindly on and-given that fact- I thought it would be in both our best interests to bring in someone you trusted.”

  “Ooookkaaaayyy…” I answered apprehensively.

  “So, you haven’t explained it to her yet?” Darrin asked, and the look that colored his eyes told me all I needed to know about the nature of this favor I was about to be asked.

  Whatever it was wasn’t good.

  “I’ve told her that I don’t believe she had anything to do with Chloe Covington’s disappearance and that I believe Priscilla was actively lying when she accused her of having a hand in it. I also told her that she’s in no danger of being arrested.”

  “So you haven’t told her that you’re going to do it, anyway?” Darrin asked, folding his arms over his chest.

  “What?!” I shouted, my hand moving to my mouth in shock. “You’re going to arrest me?”

  “No,” Sheriff Black said. “Well, yes. But not really, and only if you agree to it.”

  “Well that makes sense,” I snorted, eyeing Darrin. I needed some direction and, whether I liked it or not, Darrin was starting to become the person I looked to for that.

  “Priscilla pointed you out for a reason,” Darrin said, pursing his lips. “Whether or not it’s because she’s responsible for kidnapping Chloe remains to be seen. And the only way we ever will see that is if Priscilla lets her guard down. We have to make her think we believe her so that-if she did have something to do with this crime- she’s more likely to get sloppy and show her hand.” Darrin swallowed hard. “But to do that, we have to go all in. We have to do everything we can to make Priscilla believe that no one is looking at her like she’s a suspect.”

  “Which means feeding me to the lions,” I said.

  “Not really,” Darrin said. “You have to understand that you’re not really a suspect here, and even if-”

  “I get it,” I answered. “It’s all bells and whistles. Smoke and mirrors. That kind of stuff.” I let out a huge sigh. “Okay. I’m in.”

  Darrin blinked hard, as though he wasn’t expecting me to agree so quickly.

  “I want to make sure that you know exactly what you’re in for with this. You going to have to be handcuffed. You’re going to be hauled into the next room, in front of everyone, while we read you your rights and basically treat you as though you’re a criminal. And then we’re going to load you into a police car and drive you out of here. And you can’t tell anyone, Rita. Until this is over, Peggy, Aiden, all the rest; they’re going to think you’re responsible for this.”

  “No,” I answered. “No, they won’t. At least, not Peggy and Aiden.” But would they? They didn’t really know me, at least not this me. And we had just gone through something similar with Harvey. What if this changed our relationship? What if, after watching this happen to me, it colored the way Aiden and Peggy saw this version of me? Could I live with that?

  “That’s not all,” Darrin continued. “You won’t be going to any jail, but you won’t be able to come back either. Until this is done, you can’t have anything to do with this investigation. You’re out of the game, Rita.”

  I smiled a little. Somehow, Darrin knew that, for me, that would be the hardest part.

  “I understand,” I answered. “I’m still in.”

  Maybe this is what I needed to do. Maybe this was where my ‘work’ lay.

  “Are you sure?” Darrin asked, breathing harder than he had been a few seconds ago.

  “Will it help, Darrin? Will it help you get her back?”

  “It will,” he answered, though there was a hitch in his voice that made me think he wished that wasn’t the case.

  “Then I have to do it, no matter what.” I quirked my mouth to the side again. “We have to do everything we can.”

  “Okay, then,” he answered. Sighing again, he pulled a pistol from his side holster. “There’s just one more thing then.” He blinked hard. “I’m going to need you to run.”

  22

  “Run?” I asked, eyeing the gun as my heart pumped a little faster.

  “Yeah,” Darrin answered. “These people are used to theatrics. You know how television stars are. If we’re going to sell it, we might as well make it big.”

  “Seriously?” I asked, realizing what he was getting at. “You want me to burst out of this room and head for the hills so you can apprehend me like you’re some sort of Wild West marshal?”

  “Well, when you say it like that, you make it sound sort of self-indulgent,” he answered, a hint of a smile creeping across his lips. “Besides, nobody in their right mind would think you were working with us after they see me chase you down at gunpoint.”

  “Maybe because it’s a crazy thing to do,” I answered.

  “Don’t worry. I’m reasonably sure that I took most of the bullets out,” he grinned. “Maybe.”

  “You know,” I said, stifling a grin myself. “I knew you weren’t going to be happy until you took a shot at me.”

  “Am I that easy to read?” He laughed.

  “Excuse me,” Sheriff Black broke through in a flat voice. “What’s going on here? I thought we were all in agreement that this was a serious situation.”

  “No need to tie your underwear in knots. We were just trying to relieve the tension,” Darrin answered. Sheriff Black didn’t understand the way we worked, the back and forth that came anytime Darrin and I were in the same room, but always went into overdrive when we were looking into something like this. I had never thought about it before, but, now that it was on my mind, it was actually kind of nice.

  “And what sort of tension might that be?” Sheriff Black asked in a huff.

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Darrin answered.

  “Really? I’m sure you do, but that’s beside the point. I’ve been questioning her for about twenty minutes now, and you’ve been here for close to ten. That seems like a reasonable amount of time to me.”

  “Alright,” Darrin answered, his voice losing any hint of the playfulness it had before. “I need you to literally kick the door open and start toward the crowd. All the officers are outside for the moment, and I seriously doubt anyone
out there is going to do anything to try to stop you.” He blinked hard. “Head toward the southern door, and I’ll meet you there with this gun drawn. Throw your hands up, so I don’t have to manhandle you.”

  “Manhandle me?” I asked, batting back some heat that rose into my cheeks.

  “It’s-it’s a figure of speech,” he stammered. “Anyway, don’t go outside. For the sanctity of the mission, none of them have been told about what’s happened outside of Officer Brady, who’ll be driving you back to Second Springs. If you get outside, I can’t promise-”

  “The manhandling, I get it,” I said, a touch of concern flickering in my mind. I needed to be careful here. Most of these people were going to think I was a horrible criminal.

  “It’s not without danger, Rita,” Darrin answered.

  “Nothing is,” I said, remembering my old self tumbling down the steps outside Second Springs.

  I stood up straight, cracking my knuckles to get ready. “If I ran away every time there was a whiff of danger in the air, Angela would still be whacking people over the head with wrenches. Besides, I’ve always wanted to try out my acting chops in front of a live audience.”

  “In that case, you’re in the right place,” Darrin answered, readying his stance. “I’ll give you ten seconds, and then I’ll go after you. Remember, the South wall and don’t go outside.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I responded, trying to push down the butterflies that had started wafting around in my stomach.

  “Okay,” Darrin said. “On three.”

  He cleared his throat.

  “One.”

  I took a deep breath.

  “Two.”

  I reared back on my heels.

  “Three.”

  I said a silent prayer and kicked that door like there was no tomorrow.

  I flung it open loud and forceful. This body must have had stronger legs than I realized.

  Bolting through the now open doorway, my heart was in my throat. I had no idea what was going to happen, least of all, how the people I cared about would react to this exceptionally strange turn of events.