by Amy Lillard
But what? She looked across the room to where Camille still stood next to Judith’s wheelchair. Camille looked a little worse for wear. Her snow-white curls stood on end, and the silk shell underneath her baby-blue jacket had come untucked from the matching slacks. Her pearls were askew, and she looked as if she was about to start chewing on her fingernails at any moment. But Camille wasn’t looking at Arlo; she was looking at Fern.
If it hadn’t been for that larger than large hat she wore, Arlo would have never seen Fern’s nod. They were planning something; Arlo just wasn’t sure what. But she knew she had to be ready too. She nudged Chloe. Her best friend nudged her back in acceptance.
On the count of three, they would move. At least she hoped it was the count of three. This would be a little deadlier than offsides in football. They had to get this right.
Yet despite her diligence, Fern and Camille moved first. Fern pounced on Joe and Camille on Pam, leaving Chloe and Arlo trying to figure out how to join the game.
Camille had jumped on Pam’s back, and the woman was slinging her around like a dog slings a toy. Somehow Camille held on.
“Camille!” Joe cried when he saw his love in danger. His distraction gave Fern the upper hand. In no time flat, she had Joe disarmed.
“Looks like those jiu-jitsu lessons are paying off,” Helen commented as Fern gave him one last kick. It landed on his knee and had him on the ground in a flash.
“Damn straight,” Fern said.
But Camille was not faring as well. Arlo saw her opportunity to help her friend, but then the doorbell rang, breaking her concentration. Mads? No. He wouldn’t ring the bell. Sam? Maybe Sam. She needed one of them, and ASAP.
“You should be answering that,” Chloe hollered at Andrea, who hovered by the door.
The young woman wrung her hands.
“Go,” Chloe roared.
Andrea fled from the room.
Pam continued to turn in a circle, trying to shake Camille off, but Camille held fast. The main problem was with every turn, the gun Pam held swung wildly.
Camille had her arms wrapped around the woman’s throat, choking her in her efforts to remain in place. “Help,” she squealed as she held on for her life. Quite literally.
Pam made gasping, gurgling noises as she tried to pry Camille’s fingers loose with her free hand.
“Don’t hurt her,” Joe growled. Tears streamed down his craggy face. “You will not hurt my baby.” He charged into the fray.
Arlo ducked again when Pam swung around in a circle. What was taking Mads so long? And Sam?
Joe grabbed at Camille’s arms, trying to peel her off Pam. To save Camille? Or Pam? She had only a moment to speculate.
Then a shot rang out, and the world seemed to grow still and dark.
Chapter 27
“Give me that,” Arlo heard Helen screech as the ringing in her ears subsided.
She looked down at herself. She appeared fine. She hadn’t been shot.
Helen took the gun from Fern and motioned for the other woman to stand aside. Neither one seemed to be suffering from a gunshot wound.
Joe darted from one side to the other in his mission to bring down Pam, his charge not helping the chaos as Pam moved from side to side to avoid him.
Fern might be unarmed, but Pam still swung her weapon wildly as she tried to fend off Camille and Joe.
In what could have only been seconds but felt like an eternity, Chloe managed to break Pam’s grip on the gun and remove it from her possession while Arlo unbalanced her. Pam was on the ground, still gasping for air, as Camille wasn’t about to let go.
“Everybody freeze,” Mads called.
Finally. Help, true help, had arrived.
* * *
“I still think I should have one of those shiny silver blankets.” Fern was still fussing nearly an hour later.
Mads had come in first, followed by Sam. Jason had pulled up to the house seconds after Mads had Joe and Pam handcuffed. Mads put Pam in the back of Jason’s car and sent him back to town with the prisoner. Jason called Officer Harve Lambert, one of the two regular officers of the SSPD, to come pick up Joe.
The biggest miracle of all? No one had been hurt. Arlo sent up a prayer of thanks to the deity who had helped them today. She would be forever grateful for small wonders.
“You do not need one of those blankets,” Helen said. She drank coffee from the mugs provided by the Lillyfield household staff. “Those are for people who are in shock.”
“I might be,” Fern argued.
Sam smiled a bit and shook his head.
Arlo wasn’t sure what to make of it all. Judith Whitney had been tucked back into bed and was currently being watched over by Andrea. Mads had talked to her a little after all the guns had been accounted for and it was confirmed that no one had been shot. Arlo had heard Andrea promise that she would come down to the station and give a full statement as soon as someone could be brought in to look after Mrs. Whitney.
Dutch, the cook, had called a temp medical service over in Corinth to send someone to help for a while until a permanent replacement could be brought in to care for Judith. Hopefully this one wouldn’t have homicidal tendencies.
“Looks like you’re going to be here for a while,” Sam said.
Arlo took a sip of her own coffee and scanned the area. People were still milling around everywhere. Jason had returned to the scene, leaving Harve to guard their two prisoners. Now the chief officer was helping gather statements. “Looks like.” Arlo turned back to Sam. “What took you so long anyway?”
“Seriously?” he asked. He pointed toward his feet. In all the excitement, Arlo hadn’t noticed that he was covered with mud from the knees down.
“Manny?” she asked.
He nodded. “Right after I hung up the phone with you, he got off his leash. I think the clasp is broken.”
“And he ran right into Lillyfield Lake.”
“You mean the sinking mud pit that was once known as Lillyfield Lake.”
And Arlo could piece the rest together herself. He had to make the split-second decision between the happiness of a boy and his dog, and helping her. How could he have known that the situation would have turned that deadly? Potentially deadly.
“So is he safe?” Arlo asked. “Manny?”
“Yes, he’s safe. Still covered in mud from stem to stern, but safe.”
“I guess that’s all that matters.” Arlo smiled.
Sam returned the gesture. Then he snaked one arm around her shoulders, pulled her close, and kissed the top of her head. “And you’re safe too.”
* * *
It took three more days, but finally everyone had given their statement, and things settled down around Sugar Springs. Just in time for Monday. Start of a new week. The book club met at noon as usual. Some things weren’t about to change.
Arlo had tried not to give herself too much empty time to think about Sam and his sweet, but chaste kiss after the big hullabaloo at Lillyfield, but every time she let her guard down, those thoughts would sneak in. Soon, she told herself. Soon she would get up the nerve to ask him about it. What it meant to him. What it meant to them. If it meant anything at all.
“Joe will have to go back to prison because he had a gun,” Helen said. “Is that right?”
Camille nodded. “It’s a violation of his parole.”
“Can’t have a gun when you’re out on parole,” Fern said.
“But ‘Don’t hurt my baby?’” Helen scoffed.
“What can I say?” Camille beamed. “He adores me. He told you so himself.”
“Well, now he’s adoring you from Cell Block C,” Fern joked.
Camille sniffed. “Be that as it may, he is a nice man.”
Arlo couldn’t argue with that. Joe was like the rest of the sad players in this tragic drama—M
ary, Pam, perhaps even Weston before his death—a victim of money and power and the problems that come with both.
“And he said he was sorry about the note,” Camille said to Arlo.
“Joe left that?” Arlo asked. She had almost forgotten with so much going on.
“What note?” Helen asked.
“We got a note saying, SOMEONE’S GOING TO GET HURT!” Arlo explained. “Though I wasn’t sure what it was.”
“He can’t even write a threatening note right,” Camille said. “That just proves what kind of man he is. One that shouldn’t have been mixed up in all this in the first place.”
Arlo wasn’t sure how to respond to that. So she sent up a small wish that Camille would get over this jailhouse crush, and soon.
“Now what happens?” Chloe asked. She leaned against the bookstore side of the coffee bar and waited for someone to answer.
“Nothing, I suppose. According to Pam, Mary Kennedy died of natural causes a few years back,” Helen said.
“It’s such a shame,” Camille mused.
“What’s that?” Helen asked.
Camille sighed. “Mary Kennedy. She had the perfect opportunity to start over. She had money—well, she would have if she had kept the necklace from the car.”
“I don’t think she knew the necklace was in the car,” Arlo said. “At least that’s what Pam told police. Mary left Lillyfield with plans of sinking her car in the lake and having Weston arrested for her attempted murder. Weston had wanted to have her arrested for theft. But she didn’t plan on complications with her pregnancy.”
“According to Pam’s statement,” Fern said, “by the time she would have been able to accuse Weston of anything, she was too embroiled in the life she had. If she had blown her cover and her plan had not been successful, she would have had nothing.”
“So she kept what she had and grew more miserable by the day.”
Camille shook her head sadly.
“Wait,” Arlo said. “How do you know what Pam’s statement said? Please tell me you did not steal her statement from the police station,” Arlo begged.
“Would I do something like that?” Fern asked sweetly.
“Yes,” they all answered at the same time.
But Fern was nonplussed. “Frances told me.”
“Good ol’ Frances,” Chloe said.
“What about Courtney?” Helen asked.
As if on cue, Courtney walked into the Books and More arm in arm with Dylan Wright, her sister’s once-boyfriend.
Greetings went up all around, and Courtney seemed happier than Arlo had seen her in a long time.
“I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be back to work tomorrow. If that’s okay?” Courtney looked from Arlo to Chloe.
“Perfect,” Arlo said.
“Good for me,” Chloe replied.
“And I wanted to be the first to tell you that Dylan and I are pre-pre-engaged.” She held out her left hand, showing off the sparkling emerald there.
“Pre-pre-engaged?” Fern repeated. “What the heck is that?”
“We’re promised to each other.” Dylan smiled lovingly at Courtney.
“Isn’t this a little soon?” Fern grumbled, but Arlo stepped in.
“No, Fern. No, it’s not.” And it surely wasn’t going to be if they wanted Courtney to return to work. And they wanted Courtney to return to work.
“That’s the thing.”’ Courtney turned a deep crimson color, one to rival State’s maroon. “Dylan and I fell in love, but we didn’t know how to tell Haley. Now that she’s gone, well, we feel it only right that we share our love with the world. Otherwise it’s like she died for nothing.”
Arlo saw no profit in arguing the point and allowed Courtney to continue. “Mom and Dad are not so happy,” Courtney continued, “but they’ll change their minds.”
“It’s not me they have a problem with,” Dylan hastily added.
Chloe caught her eye, and Arlo gave a small nod. They knew exactly what the problem was. Sisterly betrayal.
“Anyway,” Dylan continued, “I couldn’t tell everyone where I was when Haley was killed because I was in Corinth picking out a ring with Courtney.”
“My ring,” Courtney explained. “Not one for Haley.” Like everyone had assumed.
This time as she mentioned her sister’s name, her eyes filled with tears. “I just hope we can do her memory justice.”
The love was young and already on shaky ground.
“What about the maid who said you and Haley were fighting that day?” Camille asked. “What was that all about?”
Dylan stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets and shrugged. “That was the day before. Haley knew something was up. Even though I hadn’t told her yet. I went to the mansion to see her and talk to her.”
“To break up with her,” Courtney clarified.
“But I couldn’t do it. Then we ended up in an argument. But it was the day before. Not the same day.”
Which explained how the maid could have gotten it confused. Dylan and Haley didn’t look like the kind of couple to argue, and when they did, people remembered. But Arlo knew as well as anyone, sometimes one day blended into the next.
Courtney and Dylan said their goodbyes and started out of the Books and More.
“I give it three months,” Fern said, smiling and waving to the couple as they turned one last time at the door.
“Four,” Camille said.
“Two and a half,” Helen countered.
“What kind of odds are you giving?” Chloe asked, just to be ornery.
“No odds. Straight bet. Twenty bucks,” Fern said. “You want in?”
Chloe shook her head with a laugh.
“Arlo?”
But she wasn’t listening. She was watching.
As Dylan and Courtney left the Books and More, a woman was coming in. There was something familiar about her, though Arlo was fairly certain she had never seen her before.
Or maybe she had, but she was in the wrong place. Like when you run into the receptionist from the doctor’s office in the grocery store.
But this was a little more than that.
Honey-gold hair and casual clothes. Casual clothes that were a little too dressy for Sugar Springs. She stepped into the Books and More and pushed her obviously designer shades to the top of her head. Blue eyes twinkled under the fringe of bangs that seemed a little out of place. Or maybe that weren’t there before. Beauty queen smile and sweet disposition.
“Hey, y’all. I’m back!”
And that’s when Arlo recognized her. Daisy James-Harrison had returned to Sugar Springs.
About the Author
Amy loves nothing more than a good book. Except for her family…and homemade tacos…and maybe nail polish. Even then, reading and writing are definitely high on the list. After all, Amy is an award-winning author with more than forty novels and novellas in print.
Born and bred in Mississippi, Amy is a transplanted Southern belle who now lives in Oklahoma with her deputy husband, their genius son, and three very spoiled cats.
When she’s not creating happy endings or mapping out her latest whodunit, she’s usually following her teen prodigy to guitar concerts, wrestling matches, or the games for whatever sport he’s into that week. She has a variety of hobbies, including swimming (a.k.a., floating around the pool), any sort of crafts, and crochet, but her favorite is whatever gets her out of housework.
She loves to hear from readers. You can find her on Facebook, Amazon, BookBub, and Goodreads. And for more about what inspires her books, check out her pages on Pinterest. For links to the various sites, go to her website: AmyLillardBooks.com. Or feel free to email her at [email protected].
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