Grilled, Chilled and Killed

by Lesley A. Diehl

  Both the women answered the door when Emily knocked. It was as if they knew she would come.

  They offered her sweet tea and she took it, anything to help dissolve the lump in her throat threatening to keep her from asking them the awful questions she knew she had to ask. She settled herself in an arm chair across from the women who sat on the edge of the couch as if poised to deny or flee. The old window air conditioner stirred the stale air in the room.

  She decided to do away with any niceties.

  “One of you knew Everett would rape Riana. It was only a matter of time and place. You wanted to prevent that from happening so you decided to kill him with rat poison.”

  Emily looked into each woman’s eyes. If they weren’t the window to the soul, Emily at least hoped they would give her insight into the conscience.

  “You’re like a dog with a bone buried in the yard. You’ll just keep at us until you dig up the truth, won’t you? I fed him poison.” Melanie’s look did not waver. “I’m not sorry I did that. He stole my daddy’s barbeque recipe from me, he took my self-respect with his chasing all those women, then he tried to take my little girl. I wasn’t going to let him do that.”

  Stacy reached out and grasped her mother-in-law’s hand. “You might as well tell her the rest, too.”

  “That’s for you to tell.”

  The daughter-in-law took a deep breath. “Everett came to me a number of months ago and let me know what he had in mind for my daughter. He said he’d leave her alone if I had sex with him. So I did. And once I had, he told me if I didn’t continue, he’d tell Jasper I was screwing his daddy, that I came on to him, that I was the one who seduced him.”

  “She told me what was going on, but I already suspected that.”

  The two women moved closer on the couch, their hands entwined together. There were no tears, their words held no despair. They spoke the simple and awful truth about what happened.

  Melanie continued the story. “I told her not to worry. I let her in on the poisoning, told her it would soon be over, told her to be patient. Then came the night before the barbeque contest, and he still wasn’t dead.”

  Emily waited, knowing the story would all come out if she let them talk. It was cathartic, a cleansing of their consciences, and Emily knew it. It would be wrong to interrupt now.

  Stacy looked up from her hands. “Everett said he was tired of me. That he was going after my daughter when he got home. I knew I had to take action that night.”

  There, Emily thought. She said it. It was finished.

  Emily finally spoke. “You killed him with the barbeque poker.”

  So intently had she been listening to the story she did not hear anyone approach the house. The door slammed open, and Jasper stepped in.

  “Don’t say another word. You keep your mouths shut.”

  In two strides he crossed the room and jerked Emily out of the chair. “I’ll take care of her, so no one will know.”

  Emily wiggled in his arms like an opossum in a trap. If she could open her mouth, she might be able to persuade him to let her live.

  “Jasper, your daddy was a bad man. That’s no secret any longer. And the authorities know he was a child sexual predator.”

  Jasper gave the women a dark look.

  “No, no,” Emily continued quickly, “Not because they told the cops. Someone else did, another woman whose daughter he tried to molest.”

  He loosened his hold on her somewhat.

  “I know you are trying to protect your family, but if you do something to me, then your daughter won’t have anybody. The cops know I’m here, and they’ll come looking for me. Then you’ll have to make up more lies.” Well, that was a lie too, thought Emily. Lewis might guess she’d come here, but he didn’t know it for certain.

  “You want me to let you tell the cops my mama and my wife killed Daddy?”

  “It’s a hard choice, Mr. Pratt, but it’s best for your child. You don’t want to go to jail too, do you?”

  “Oh, he surely does not.” Melanie Pratt’s voice surprised Emily. It was tinged with anger and sarcasm. “No, my no. He’s just like his daddy. He uses women.”

  Melanie turned her eyes on Stacy. “And you’re no better than him if you let him use you the way Everett did me. You already covered up for him by tossing that barbeque poker in someone else’s truck. Now you’re gonna take the wrap for him too? ”

  “Mama.” Jasper’s tone was threatening.

  “You did it. I know you did.” Melanie stood up and confronted her son.

  Her daughter-in law remained on the couch, eyes cast downward. She slid forward on her seat and looked up at her husband. “I told you what he was doing to me and was going to do to our daughter. I don’t know what I expected you to do, maybe go to the cops, but you chose another way, didn’t you?”

  Jasper made a sound of disgust in his throat. “Yeah, it was the same way you and Mama chose to handle the situation, but I was more successful. Women. Useless creatures.”

  “You killed him because he was messing with your property. You didn’t kill him to protect us, did you?”

  Emily realized Stacy spoke the truth.

  Jasper towered over his wife, his arm raised as if to hit her, to make her take back the words she’d branded him with, but he never delivered the blow. Instead, he let his arm drop.

  “I’m outta here.” He reached out his hand to turn the door knob when the door was shoved open, and Jasper flew backward across the floor. His head hit a cupboard handle with a thwack, and he slid unconscious down onto the floor.

  Donald stood in the open doorway, the butt end of a fishing rod in his hand. “You ladies need any help?”

  Chapter 22

  Police cars lined the Pratt’s driveway, flashers working overtime as EMTs worked on Jasper’s head, and the authorities sorted out who needed to be arrested for what crime.

  Donald and Emily stood at the edge of the property and watched the Pratt family members being taken into custody.

  Emily turned to face Donald. “Did Lewis send you?”

  Donald hesitated before replying. Emily knew he did not want to admit he might have been sent in by Lewis not to rescue Emily but as the “Got your back” man.

  “Yep.”

  “I asked you to keep an eye on him, and, for the second time in less than a week, you abandoned him.” Emily tapped her foot in frustration as she stood chin to chest with Donald.

  “Sorry, but he said you were going to get yourself into trouble.”

  “He should know by now that I get myself out of trouble as easily.”

  “Jasper…”

  “Jasper. Phooey. He was making a break for it. He was no danger to me.”

  Donald’s cell rang. He listened for a few minutes, then handed it to Emily.

  “He wants to talk to you.”

  Emily filled Lewis in on the confessions by Melanie, Stacy and Jasper.

  “I found out something you might like to know, Emily. Toby was identified by Arnold Patton and Jeff Knowles, two barbeque contestants, as the guy who tried to blackmail them. They came to the police station the other night and reported him. Toby thought they killed Pratt because he found the barbeque poker in their truck bed.”

  “Stacy said she tossed it there to get it off their property, but I don’t think she intended to frame someone else.” Or did she? Emily couldn’t be certain.

  “The DA will sort that one out later. We wondered at the time why Arnold and Jeff were so forthright about Toby’s blackmail. We figured they were innocent of the murder. Listen to this. Toby bought some of Arnold and Jeff’s barbeque sauce right after the murder thinking it was his ace-in-the-hole. He could give it to the cops to use as a match to the sauce covering Pratt. Toby rightly assumed the murderer would change the sauce recipe so no match could be made, but if he bought some of the sauce dated the night of the murder or around that time, he could threaten them with it so they’d continue to pay him blackmail. Maybe the murderer wou
ld have, but these guys gave him a beating and, then, when he wouldn’t back off, they turned him in.”

  “You know, sometimes I think Toby is cleverer than we give him credit for, in a skewed way, I mean. He has a million ideas, but then all his schemes fall through. Like the one with Naomi’s husband and that other guy. What were they going to do with us?”

  “No idea. Toby won’t talk much other than to say he’s responsible for saving you from them.”

  Emily laughed. “That’s good old Toby.”

  There was silence for a minute.

  “I guess you heard that Naomi’s ex-husband didn’t make it. He bled to death from the pig’s slashing him with her tusks.”

  “We heard.”

  “She’s okay?” Lewis sounded concerned.

  “She’s shocked and sad about his dying, but she’ll be fine.”

  “The authorities haven’t identified the other guy, the one you and Naomi saw with her ex. Toby says his name was Mr. Smith. Not much of a lead.”

  Emily remembered the man’s cold eyes and shivered. She hoped she’d never see him again.

  Naomi delayed her departure for West Palm and left the next day.

  “Not that I don’t love being with you here, Mom, but rural Florida is too wild for me right now. I need manicured lawns, not scrub palmetto and fields with cattle and cowboys, sinkholes that gobble up people and stills and wild pigs, and gators on the fairways and in every stream, pond and canal around here.”

  “Gators crawl into the swimming pools down there, too, you know.” She hugged Naomi. She understood perfectly what she was saying. She needed to get away from the cast of characters who peopled the killings, kidnappings and blackmail in Emily’s neighborhood. The scary wildlife were only symbols of the awful events of the past month. Emily might be her biological mother, but Naomi was running back to the comforting arms of the only parents she knew growing up. Emily appreciated her needs and trusted she’d be back.

  Emily had her own departure to make. April was approaching May. It was time for her to go back north to her apartment there. Or give it up and settle full-time here. She was torn making a decision. She had just enough money from her retirement, her inheritance and her job at the country club to keep both her apartment up north and her little park model down here. If any emergency presented itself, she was in financial trouble. She wasn’t ready to decide now. Maybe when she was back north this summer and away from all the hubbub here.

  She hadn’t seen Donald except at the bar. Neither of them spoke of the murder. Emily was still angry Donald would so easily abandon Lewis to save her butt. She’d have to forgive him sometime, and soon, or the silence between them could turn to cement and become permanent. He’d never admit he was wrong, she thought. She’d have to be the bigger man and approach him. Maybe she’d let him take her out fishing before she left.

  Toby was in county lock-up, to be tried on charges too numerous for her to think about all at once. All she knew was he would be serving time in prison for the foreseeable future.

  Riana, the Pratt granddaughter would have been placed with family services, but Lorelei Pratt offered to take her. Lorelei rented a small cottage close to the Blue Heron Retirement Center, and Hap visited them daily. He said Riana was withdrawn at first, but Emily was certain if anyone could pull her out of her shell, Hap could.

  Lorelei was not so generous when it came to Milo, the Bassett hound. “On no account will I have that bag of fleas in my house.”

  She remained unswayed despite the begging of Riana. Hap had just the solution, one Emily would never have thought of. The dog went to live with Donald.

  “Donald?” she asked Hap when she heard the news.

  “He likes dogs. You didn’t know that?”

  “I thought he only liked fish.” Emily admitted to herself she didn’t know Donald as well as she thought. But who did?

  “Does he know the dog has fleas?” If Emily thought an infestation of bugs was a deal breaker, she was wrong. Donald took the old hound off for a flea bath, bought him a spiffy, blue-plaid collar and got him a doggy cap to shade his eyes when they went out on the boat.

  Lewis was still on leave, but he told her Worley was considering a more lenient punishment than foot patrol until retirement. Lewis confided he thought Worley felt sorry for him because of his crazy ex-wife. Emily thought perhaps the good word she’d put in to Worley behind Lewis’ back might have made the captain go easier on him. Worley seemed to like her. He said she had spunk.

  Much recovered, Lewis invited her over for drinks. She thought back on their evening in the condo on Jekyll Island and felt her heart hammering in her chest. She was excited.

  She curled her hair and let it fall in a cascade down her back, put on a pair of dangly earrings, her best red dress and got into her car. She got back out again, went into her house, took off her earrings and red dress and pulled her hair into a pony tail. She slipped into her jeans and a tee-shirt and left the house. No sense in telegraphing her lust so loudly.

  Down the road a half mile, she turned around. Before she used her gate card to get into her park, she backed up and parked in the lot. I’m being silly. He doesn’t care what I wear. It’s just a drink at his place.

  “Well, yes”, the voice in her head said, “but remember what happened the last time the two of you got together alone. You pulled him into the shower with you. He’s probably expecting something like that to happen again.”

  “If he does”, she argued back, “then he’ll have to initiate it.” She glanced around the parking lot to make certain no one saw her talking to herself.

  She flipped down the visor to look at herself in the mirror. She was clean, her clothes were pressed, her make-up looked great, and she had a twinkle in her eye. She was presentable. He’d have to take that and that alone.

  Lewis opened the door dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt, a very snug fitting tee. Despite the bulky bandage beneath the shirt, it showed off his chest and muscular arms. Emily was used to seeing him in a shirt and jacket, and she had only a dim memory of what he looked like soaking wet in the shower with all his clothes clinging to his body, plus she was tired of using her imagination to create him naked. The hot tee-shirt helped fill in the empty spaces where her mind drew a blank. But not enough. She could use more.

  She didn’t know what to say so she led with hello followed by, “Look. We’re dressed alike.” Dumb, Emily. Dumb.

  He held out his hand and pulled her into the house. “You smell good.”

  “Thanks. I took a shower. I mean, I washed, cleaned up, bathed. Uh, you smell good, too.”

  “I did the same.”

  Emily’s again envisioned him in the shower on Jekyll Island.

  “Wine?”

  He gestured toward the couch where wine, cheese, crackers and a lighted candle awaited them. They sat next to one another.

  “How are you feeling?” She nodded toward his shoulder.

  He poured them each a glass of wine. “Great. I’m healing nicely according to my doctor. I just won’t be lassoing any cows for a while.”

  Pity, thought Emily. I wonder if he’s allowed to lasso women, little ones like me who wouldn’t struggle too much.

  “To murder.” He clinked his glass against hers and looked into her eyes, then leaned in, his lips only inches away. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek. She moved closer to him. Nothing was going to ruin this moment, she thought, and closed her eyes, eager for his mouth on hers.

  “Stanton.”

  “Emily.”

  The doorbell rang.

  “Expecting someone else?”

  He looked aggravated at the interruption. “I’ll get it and tell them to get out of here. Back in a jiff.”

  She sat back and took a sip of her wine.

  He opened the door. His ex-wife stood on his porch.

  “Stanton.”

  “Adrienne.”

  “Aren’t you going to ask me in? I want to explain myself. Why I beh
aved as I did the other night. I shouldn’t have run off.”

  Oh yes you should have, thought Emily. She gave Adrienne a gay little finger wave from the couch.

  He looked back into the room toward Emily and swallowed.

  “Uh.”

  Emily got off the couch and walked to the door. “Let me help you with this.”

  She slammed the door in Adrienne’s face, then took Lewis’ hand in hers and led him back to the couch.

  Adrienne’s voice came through the door. “Fine, then. You’re busy now. We can talk later.”

  He got up and walked across the room. Oh crap. Here goes my night, thought Emily. She watched in despair as he opened the door.

  “We have nothing to talk about.” It was said with Lewis’ firm, no-nonsense cop voice. “Nothing.”

  He closed the door and turned to Emily. She heard Adrienne’s steps retreat down the sidewalk and a car start.

  “Where were we?” he asked.

  “We were on the couch playing checkers.”

  “Shall we?” He gestured toward the sofa. They resumed their positions.

  “Emily.”

  “Stanton.”

  They leaned toward one another, and Emily again closed her eyes. Kiss me, she thought to herself. Now.

  The doorbell rang.

  Emily popped up off the couch, ran to the door and swung it open. “Go away.”

  “Emily?”

  It wasn’t Adrienne. It was Donald.

  “I wanted to drop by to see how Lewis was. Then I saw your car, and I was going to drive on, but I thought, what the hell, this is a good time for all of us to talk.”

  “No it isn’t.”

  He ignored her. “I know Lewis needs his rest, but…”

  “You’re right, and I was just about to get him off to bed when you rang.”

  “I can wait, and after he’s tucked in, the two of us can go somewhere for a nightcap.”

  “Donald, are you just playing with me? I’ve got the only nightcap I need right here.” She lifted her glass of wine to emphasize her intentions.