Glossy Lips

by Barbara Silkstone

  “No one would. His father was a little runt, just like Peanut. Our mother remarried. My father was a very tall man.” She stared at her hands, which she kept folded on the marble countertop. “I needed a job and Peanut recommended me to Sterling. That was about eight or nine years ago. Right after Lizzy moved out.”

  “Sterling knew you were brother and sister?”

  “That’s why he hired me. He did it as a favor to Peanut. Besides, I’m a very neat, organized person. He wanted me in his life.”

  “Tell me about the argument the night your brother was killed.”

  “Three of them were in the library.”

  “Three?”

  “Sterling, Peanut, and Jaimie. Sterling was yelling at Jaimie. She attacked him with her nails. Peanut pulled her off.”

  Addy wheezed as she recounted the fight. She blinked her eyes rapidly—a telltale sign. She was making up the battle. It never happened.

  “What was the fight about?”

  “Sterling found out Jaimie and Peanut had a thing going on.” She poked her tongue into her cheek as if looking for another tidbit to add to her yarn. “Ya’ see, Jaimie was involved with Sterling, too. He was handling her divorce and—well that was his way of helping divorcees. Sterling didn’t realize that Jaimie is vicious—she’s got killer blood.”

  “That would explain a lot,” I said. “And poor you had to keep all this inside, never letting on.” I layered on the false sympathy.

  Addy turned an ugly shade of gray. “My brother got caught in a triangle with his boss and a bitch. And then he was dead, stuffed in a trunk, wrapped around a tire. Ta da!”

  She leaned back, at ease and in control with a cocky grin on her face. Obviously not mourning for her brother or Sterling. “Jamie must have killed him. Lizzy’s car was here when I went to bed, and it was still here in the morning. Jaimie’s the one what done it—I mean did it.”

  Addy convinced herself the argument actually took place. Such is the fatal flaw of a pathological liar. The need to let her finish her tale overrode my desire to escape. Aside from the police, Jaimie, Lizzy, and me, only Peanut’s killer would know that his body had been bent around the spare tire in the trunk.

  “Gotta run to the toilet!” she said, bringing her hand quickly to her mouth. She jumped off the barstool and bolted across the tile floor. On top of everything, she really was sick. Her cough echoed down the hall.

  The minute Addy was out of sight I headed for the cabinets. I opened and closed them hoping to stumble upon the poison. Then it struck me. She was a good mother but a rotten sister. If the poison was in the kitchen, it would be on one of the higher shelves, well out of Heather’s reach.

  Time was not on my side. I hoped Addy was setting a record for puking. I chose the highest door, the one above the stovetop vent. I couldn’t see what I was touching but hooked my fingers under the edge of what felt like a Tupperware container. It was a risk, but I needed to examine it. I inched it forward until it fell into my hand. A bead of sweat ran down the side of my face.

  I put the opaque container on the counter and popped off the lid. For an instant, I was overcome with a smell similar to apricots. I grabbed a paper napkin from a dispenser on the counter, wrapped it around my finger and poked at a small vial of clear liquid. Next to the vial lay a sealed plastic bag containing white flower petals that I recognized as oleander. The oddest things in the box were two bottles of GroMane, roll-on hair-restorer.

  One bottle had been taken apart, the lid and roller ball loose in the Tupperware. Using the napkin, I prodded the roller, taking care to keep all the pieces inside the storage container and not let them touch the counter. My hands shook as I adjusted the napkin to protect my fingers.

  If I wasn’t scared to death I would have shouted whoo hoo. I had cracked who and what, but not the why of Sterling’s murder. The housekeeper brewed a poison from the petals of oleander. Nonna’s catalog of toxic plants described oleander petals as smelling like apricots.

  I heard a cough behind me and whipped my head around so quickly my neck cracked.

  Addy’s eyes were black as flint. She held a huge cast iron skillet raised high in her left hand. She was about to bring it down on the back of my head.

  I drew on my reserve of therapist calm and using all the control I could muster, I said “Is that how you killed Peanut?”

  “He made me do it!” she snarled, her mouth dropping open at my question. “The little jerk came in when I was filling a new bottle of GroMane. My own brother was going to rat me out to Sterling. I’d no choice.”

  Addy was a few inches taller than me, more muscular. She held the skillet so that her first swing would either miss me by a hair or bring me down. She waved her weapon. “I used this very same frying pan to hit Peanut. Isn’t that a coincidence? Don’t worry. It went through two cycles in the dishwasher. No blood on it—yet!”

  Not a knife, meat mallet, or toothpick within reach. My only weapon was my gift of gab. I backed up along the counter, and with my left hand I slid the Tupperware container out of her reach.

  “Why’d you kill Sterling? And why do it slowly?”

  She advanced on me. “Peanut told me Sterling had left everything to Heather, that suited me just fine. But then Sterling threatened to take Heather from me—unfit mother and all that. The sucker wrote a new will and hid it! I needed to find that paper make sure she inherited and then I could finish him off.” She panted. “If I let nature take its course, he might live long enough to write another will.”

  “You went looking for Sterling’s will in Lizzy’s cottage?”

  “It wasn’t here at the house, and it wasn’t in his office. I’d been searching for weeks. Sterling would never trust another lawyer with it. Lizzy’s place was my last resort.”

  Her eyes were unblinking, the whites streaked with red lines. “Doncha’ understand how hard it was to pull this off? I had to time it just right. What if the windbag hadn’t really written a will and he died? Where would that leave Heather and me? I had to know for sure.”

  I watched the skillet waver in her hand. It must have been killer-heavy because her arm was drooping.

  “When Sterling caught me trying to crack the safe in his bedroom, the jig was up. It was time to increase the doses of oleander. The dope would roll it on his balding head, thinking he was safe not eating at home. Hah!” She moved closer. “I knew my days here were numbered. It’s all about the timing! You understand the timing? I never killed anyone that didn’t ask for it.”

  The hamsters in my brain were racing at warp speed. She was coming apart. “You’re sick, Addy. You need help.” That came out wrong. I gulped. “I mean you don’t have the flu. The oleander is what’s making you cough. You must have inhaled the fumes or got it on your hands. We need to get you to the hospital!”

  “I’m not falling for that.” She changed to a two-handed grip on the skillet.

  I raised my hand to protect myself from the blow that was coming, leaned heavily on the counter with my left elbow, and braced to kick her wherever I could land a good solid hit. Like Addy said, timing was important.

  She stepped forward and swung the skillet.

  Chapter 38

  I dropped to the floor causing Addy’s deadly blow to strike the counter instead of turning my brain to mush. The skillet came out of her hands and clanged on the floor.

  She landed on top of me and grabbed my throat with the strength only a crazed person can muster. I clawed at her hands. She was cutting off the blood flow to my brain. Everything started to fade to black.

  I heard a growl and faded back in. When I was able to see again, WonderDog had Addy’s right hand in a fierce jaw-lock. Lizzy was standing on Addy’s left wrist, her wedgie firmly pinning the hand to the floor. WonderDog and Lizzy had come to my rescue.

  Inching my way out from under Addy, I rolled over on my hands and knees. The ringing in my ears was torture. I was still dazed but not so much that I couldn’t see something in the dark recess
under the refrigerator. I eased into a sitting position on the tile.

  “Don’t touch that stuff on the counter,” I said to Lizzy. “That’s what killed Sterling!” My vision of her was spinning in slow, lazy loops.

  Pulling myself along the few feet to the refrigerator, I snaked my fingers into the small clearance space underneath. With the tips of my digits I inched out a cell phone. The faceplate was fractured in a spray of cracks. It had to be Peanut’s missing phone. Another piece of evidence against Addy, not that we didn’t already have enough to end her career as a serial killer.

  I struggled to my feet, put the phone on the counter, and looked for a way to immobilize Addy that didn’t involve a dog jaw and wedgie.

  I found a short piece of rope in the utility room. With that and the belt from her bathrobe we tied her to a straight-back chair I placed in the middle of the room. She spewed a continuous litany of threats, insults, and ravings. Happily a load of dirty laundry provided a particularly nasty sock that just fit her yammering mouth.

  Once that overpowering noise was quelled I said, “You were really something. The dynamic duo saved my life.”

  Lizzy’s cheeks reddened under my praise. “I had a feeling something wasn’t right so we slipped in through the utility room door.”

  She glared at Addy and then shuddered. “I heard your confession. To think I once defended you!” She turned from our prisoner to me. “Look what I have.”

  Lizzy laid eight sheets of paper on the counter, one by one. “These were rolled in the tube-safe. The combination came to me while I sat on Sterling’s bed. He used the month, day, and year we were married. I’m thinking they let him receive my message down in hell and he sent me the answer.” She arched her eyebrows.

  She waved a page in the air. “This is a letter from Sterling to me and it’s labeled read first.”

  I glanced at Addy who was watching us, waiting to hear Sterling’s message. “Let’s read it silently. There is no need in sharing what he didn’t want her to know.”

  Addy’s eyes flared above the sock stuffed in her mouth. We held what she had killed to find. She struggled to break free, causing WonderDog to growl and clamp onto her ankle, which settled her down instantly.

  “First,” I said, “I should call Kal.”

  I ferreted my cell phone out of my purse, hit Kal on speed dial, and got his voicemail. “Too much to explain, just get here as fast as you can. We’re in the caretaker’s cottage.”

  Side-by-side, Lizzy and I read Sterling’s letter. It was written on both sides of one sheet of paper in a tight, lawyerly hand, the spaces between the lines were so tiny I had to squint to make out the words.

  Dearest Lizzy,

  I still reserve the right to call you dearest. There isn’t much time so I’ll be brief. If you are reading this, it means I am ready to be planted or scattered—your choice. Either way it’s been a hell of a ride. To get to the point, I believe Addy Trebuchet is poisoning me; I can’t prove it. Not yet.

  Now that I have your attention, I will fill you in on my housekeeper’s history; you are going to need it. Addy is Peanut’s stepsister. Nine years ago he asked a special favor of me. I obliged by calling in some powerful chits. Addy was in a state prison for women in Georgia. She’d been convicted of poisoning her abusive husband with rat poison. At the time I believed she was forced to murder him in order to survive. Pulling strings I was able to get her case remanded and after a series of threats and bribes, her life sentence was commuted. She was released into my custody. The woman had no special skills that would allow her to find employment. So once she became my problem, I hired her as my housekeeper.

  “Holy cats!” Lizzy whispered. We must have been reading at the same pace, as we both looked at Addy, and then went back to the letter.

  Surprised? I am capable of the occasional act of kindness, but this one bit me in the ass. One thing led to another and a year later Addy was carrying my child. (No excuse for my carnal urges.) Heather is my daughter. I love the girl and would do anything to protect her, especially from Addy whose mental state concerns me. Heather doesn’t know I’m her father, but Peanut does. He confessed to me that while talking Addy out of a recent panic attack, he broke his vow of secrecy. He told her that I had signed a new will making Heather my sole beneficiary.

  Heather’s birth certificate was sealed at my request. I have applied to gain custody of her. I foolishly threatened Addy, telling her I would take the child from her if I discovered she was poisoning me. She went mental and ransacked the house, including my wall safe, searching for the will. The security camera at my office showed her sneaking in and going through all my papers.

  I can’t bring in the police because I don’t want Heather to hate me for taking her mother away—not until it’s absolutely necessary. With your father constantly crawling up my behind I have to be careful. If he gets wind of my irresponsible decision to take a crazed poisoner into my home, he’ll have every lawyer in the state laughing at me. I couldn’t bear the humiliation of making such a reckless mistake. We’re all entitled to one. Addy Trebuchet is mine.

  What safer place to hide these papers than in the junk drawer in your dresser? Who would think to check in that mess? I’ll bet you haven’t looked in there in years. If you found this then you have deciphered my clues. Enclosed is my last will and testament, the original of Heather’s birth certificate, and the signed court order that assigned Adeline Trebuchet to my custody.

  I trust you to handle this discreetly. I wouldn’t want to be remembered as that jerk lawyer who took an assassin into his home and bed.

  Here’s looking at you, kid.

  S.

  Lizzy whispered to me. “This is nuts. Why didn’t he just get a safe deposit box?”

  I put my hand over my mouth so Addy couldn’t read my lips. “No one can get into a safe deposit box until the estate goes through probate. It could take years. And from what you told me about him, Sterling wouldn’t trust anyone to hold his will.”

  Lizzy showed me the first of two official-looking documents. It was Heather’s birth certificate. I could only imagine the roller coaster of emotions my friend was going through. She had lost an unwanted husband and gained a stepdaughter in less than twenty-four hours.

  I picked up the other document. It was written on letterhead bearing the State of Georgia insignia and dated almost nine years ago. Worded in legal double-speak, it did not absolve Addy of her conviction but remanded her into the custody of Sterling E. Kelly.

  Lizzy lowered her forehead onto the cool counter and uttered two long sighs. I put my arm around her. “Take it one step at a time,” I said. When she didn’t budge, I said, “Are you okay?”

  “Just waiting for the alarm clock to ring and a finch to land on my pillow.”

  “Open up! Police” It was Kal.

  Still shaky, I wobbled to the door, bracing one hand on the counter and then on the refrigerator and then the wall.

  The look on Kal’s face was one for my mental scrapbook. I greeted him with a trickle of blood working its way down my neck. Lizzy was folded over the counter and did not look up. Addy was tied to a chair with a sock in her mouth and WonderDog clamped on her ankle.

  “What took you so long?” I asked.

  Epilogue

  I gazed out our shop windows and savored the swirling pinks and deep blues of the sunset over the Gulf of Mexico. Despite our chaotic start, after five months I was certain I couldn’t have made a better decision. Nonna’s Cold Cream was a hit. I had finally found a sense of belonging.

  There were a few stumbling blocks along the way, but Lizzy and I managed. Besides the two murders, my Aunt Tillie moved to Starfish Cove sniffing for extras from Nonna’s will. Myron spent too much time in his penthouse at Sandy Shores Towers, forgetting about his family in New York. I was gradually weaning him from me to Ivy LaVine.

  The ME confirmed Sterling died from slow deposits of white oleander juice applied topically to his noggin by roll-on Gro
Mane.

  Heather and I were lucky to have not come in direct contact with Addy’s serum. Just a tiny piece of the leaves can induce severe vomiting and even rapid death. According to Nonna’s book the plant contains a chemical that mimics the effects of digitalis, a drug designed to make the heart’s contractions stronger. Too much, however, prevents the heart from relaxing after a contraction. The gunk found on the rim of the trunk of Lizzy’s car was oleander from Addy’s hands. Heather was fortunate not to have touched the poisonous serum.

  Addy was returned to prison after a hospital stay to treat her for oleander poisoning. She is waiting a trial date, but having confessed to the murders of Peanut and Sterling, she’ll most likely spend the rest of her life behind bars.

  The judge permanently denied her any parental rights once Heather described how her mother ordered her to help drag Mr. Nott to the trunk of the car. “He was very sick. Mama said we had to put him in the trunk so he didn’t get upchuck on the upholstery.”

  The Loud Mouth of the South now spent much of her time making Chip’s life miserable. She recently mentioned reconciliation—miracles do happen.

  Dave and Lizzy remained an item, although she often remarked she wouldn’t miss him if he exited her life.

  They finally elected Nelson Dingler commodore of the yacht club. With the sale of Nelson’s prized Remington painting, Irma Dingler financed a franchise from the religious cult—the one that helped her pull off her escape.

  “Heather! It’s time to put the closed sign on the door!” Lizzy called to her stepdaughter. The child darted from the back room where she had been teaching WonderDog to play poker.

  She’d become quite good at the game thanks to her Uncle Myron. Heather was responding well to counseling and understood, as much as a child could, why her mother was in prison. Lizzy bought a larger house within walking distance of our shop and set about creating a happy home for the little girl.