Maybe Murder
Page 21
“Nancy, I believe that Jane is here tonight to kill you.” She took her friend’s hand in hers and squeezed it.
“Succinct as always, Miss Winterjoy. Would you care to expand?” Her words were mocking. She relished the fear on Nancy’s face.
“Certainly. I believe that Jane tampered with your car, causing your accident. I also believe that she somehow engineered your bee sting.”
“Emelia, that’s ridiculous!” Nancy inserted, momentarily forgetting the gun pointed at them.
“Not so ridiculous. I did puncture your brake line and quite enjoyed seeing your bruises. Now, the bee sting was genius—if I say so myself. I simply took the EpiPens from your bathroom and your gardening bag and sprayed your gloves with lavender and sugar water. Then I let fate take charge. Fate always punishes the wicked.”
“But why?” Nancy’s voice was a whisper. “Why would you want to hurt me? I’ve never done anything to you. Jane. We’re friends.”
“Friends?” Jane growled. “You ruined my life. Stole the only man I ever loved. Enjoyed the life I should have lived.” She paced the room, waving the gun erratically at the couch. She picked up a photograph of Nancy and Gareth holding their newborn son. “Patrick was supposed to be my son; Connor should be my grandson.”
“But, Jane, you never went out with Gareth, did you? He would have told me.”
“Gareth and I worked together to save the planet. We shared a passion that would have grown into an abiding love. But you flounced into the library, flirted with him, seduced him away from me. My poor Gareth never knew what hit him once you got your claws into him.”
Nancy gasped at the hatred in her voice and the virulent look in her eyes.
“Jane,” Emelia said soothingly, “that’s such old history. Isn’t it time to let the past rest? Put the gun down, and, and join us for dinner.”
“Yes. Please put that thing away. You haven’t done any real harm. I forgive you for my…accidents.”
“No real harm, huh? I think Miss Know-it-all Winterjoy knows better, don’t you?” Jane glared a challenge.
“No. Certainly not.” Emelia stared into her eyes, feigning ignorance. “Besides Connor is due home any moment, and you don’t want to….”
Jane clicked her tongue. “Nice try, Emelia. But I called the restaurant to make sure that Connor was working late. I would never hurt my Gareth’s grandson.” She returned her attention to Nancy who was hugging Moody tightly against her chest. “No harm? I accuse you, Nancy MacLeod, of killing my best friend, Susan Jankowsky!”
“Killing? Are you insane?”
“Don’t state the obvious, dear,” Emelia whispered.
“Do you deny that you gave Susan your dessert after our last book circle meeting?”
“No. I gave her my cobbler. I had so many leftovers, and Susan loved her sweets.”
“I rest my case.”
“I don’t understand.” Nancy looked inquiringly at Emelia. “You don’t mean…? You couldn’t mean…?”
“Jane poisoned the cobbler. She meant it for you.”
“But I had no idea. You can’t blame me for her death!”
“You never accept responsibility, Nancy. You glide through life, running over anyone who stands in your way, stealing loved ones, murdering my best friend.” Jane aimed the gun at Nancy’s head. “It’s time you paid for the harm you’ve done to me.”
“No!” Emelia commanded in the tone she’d use to subdue teenagers for decades.
Jane imperceptibly lowered the gun and took a deep, shuddering breath. “A bullet is too quick for the years of suffering that you have caused me.” She turned to Emelia. “And there’s the question of what to do about you. I have never liked you, you know? Always so superior. You think your opinion of a book is the only one that counts.”
“Jane,” Emelia began.
“Quiet. I need to think.” Jane circled the living room, never taking her eyes off the two women.
Emelia’s mind raced. She prayed that Lynn would not arrive and be put in harm’s way. She looked at Nancy who was pale and seemed to be frozen in disbelief. No help there. Snap out of it! She stared pointedly at her friend. They couldn’t just sit on the couch and let Jane shoot them. She caught Nancy’s eye and nodded toward the wine bottle that sat in the middle of the coffee table.
“Ladies, I am going to present you with Sophie’s choice.” Jane’s voice was cheerful, almost giddy. She pulled a Ziploc bag from her coat pocket, wiggled it in the air, before tossing it to Nancy. Then she pointed her gun at Emelia’s head. “Either you eat that bag of peanuts right now, or I will shoot Emelia. Your choice.”
Nancy slowly opened the bag.
“Nance, don’t do it. She’ll shoot me anyway!” Emelia’s hands dug into the cushions of the couch. She bit her lip to keep from screaming. Peanuts were toxic to someone as allergic as Nancy.
“Your choice, bitch. Not that you’ve ever done a selfless thing in your life.”
Nancy’s eyes filled with tears as she looked at Emelia. She shrugged, delicately lifted a single nut from the bag, and placed it in her mouth.
“The whole bag full!” Jane focused on her victim, although her gun did not waiver from its target.
Moody suddenly stood up and barked, her tail wagging.
“Shut that mutt up or I will! Eat!”
Nancy complied, cramming a handful of peanuts into her mouth. As she chewed, her eyes locked on Emelia’s and she nodded once, twice….
***
Kalico pulled up in front of Nancy MacLeod’s house and jumped out of his car. His vision blurred, and his head spun. For a moment, he thought that he might throw up. He leaned against the Civic, gulping fresh air.
“Young man? Young man, are you okay?” A middle-aged woman, her voice filled with concern, stood before him, yellow lab panting at her side.
“Yes. I’m fine.”
“Your head is bleeding. Do you want me to call an ambulance?” She took out a cell phone. .
“Yes. I mean, no.” He fished a card out of his wallet. “But I’d appreciate it if you’d call this number and ask for Victor Carrillo. Tell him that Kalico is reporting a B & E in progress at this address. Tell him to send a squad car asap.”
The woman looked at the card. “Kalico. Victor Carrillo. B & E. Now. Got it.”
Kalico nodded a thank you and walked quickly up to the MacLeod’s front door. He had no doubt that Jane was in there with Nancy, and that she meant to harm her. He gently tried to turn the doorknob: locked. He raised his hand to knock, then paused and peered through the beveled glass of the door. He could just make out a small, white-haired figure sitting at the edge of the couch—Miss Winterjoy. For a second he felt relieved. The friends were probably just visiting. He frowned. Even from a distance he could tell that the elderly woman’s posture, always perfect, was unusually stiff. Her attention was fixed on someone out of his sight. He lowered his hand.
Kalico moved around the side of the house to the back yard. His heart pounded with urgency as he tried the back door. It opened easily. He entered quietly, holding his breath and inched down the short hallway and into Nancy’s kitchen. As he crouched behind her breakfast bar to peer into the living room, Moody barked a warning.
“Shut that mutt up, or I’ll,” Jane threatened. “Eat!”
Jane’s back was to Kalico, but he could see the gun in her hand, pointed at Emelia. Nancy was putting something into her mouth and nodding her head as she chewed.
Suddenly, Moody jumped off the couch and sped toward Jane. Growling, the little terrier bit into her ankle. She yelped, trying to shake the dog off. In that instant, Emelia launched herself at Jane’s knees, Nancy picked up a wine bottle and threw it at Jane’s head, and Kalico took two running steps and lunged for her gun hand. A shot reverberated in the room.
“Is everyone okay?” Kalico, his knee in the small of Jane’s back, pressed her head into the carpet as he pulled her hands behind her back. Moody, hackles raised, growled beside the
prostrate woman, who sputtered obscenities.
“Yes.” Emelia released Jane’s legs and stood, a bit shaky, but fine. Later, she would say that when she leaped at Jane, she felt just like Brett Favre sacking a quarterback. “Nancy?”
“Yes, for the moment.” The old friends hugged. “But my poor carpet!” She pointed to the broken bottle of wine and large wet spot that had formed on her rug.
“You need to improve your aim.”
“Next time.” They laughed. “But my mouth is tingling. Better get the epinephrine for me.” She sank back onto the couch.
Sirens could be heard in the distance. In minutes, the house was filled with officers and paramedics. Lynn appeared at Kalico’s side, exclaiming at his bloodied face and demanding answers. Victor grinned at him and handcuffed Jane, pulling her none too gently to her feet. As Jane was hauled off, Nancy and Kalico were loaded into an ambulance.
Left alone for a moment, Emelia picked up Moody and scratched her behind the ears. “You got the bad lady, girl. We all did.” Then she got the little dog a special treat from the pantry, collected her purse, locked the back and front doors, and joined Lynn so that they could follow their friends to the hospital.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“Man, you never, and I mean never, turn your back on a perp!” Victor shook his head at Kalico who was propped in a hospital bed, with his head in bandages, his right arm in a sling, and a brace over his right knee.
“Hey, a little sympathy for the wounded.”
“And to be taken out by a little old lady. Ben, it’s bad enough that you are the retriever of retrievers, the finder of felines, the catcher of….”
“Officer!” Emelia Winterjoy’s voice demanded silence. “I’ll have you know that this fine detective prevented two murders tonight and solved a third. He is not to be trifled with!”
“Yes, ma’am. I mean, no, ma’am.”
Kalico grinned as Victor stood at attention. He had not seen that particular look on his friend’s face since Mr. Gordon’s American Literature class junior year of high school.
“Benjamin is in no condition to give his statement. You may return in the morning. I, however, will be free to speak with you in a few minutes—if you will be so good as to step outside.”
“Of course, ma’am.” For a moment Kalico thought he was going to salute. “Benj, I will see you mañana.” Then, Officer Carrillo practically ran from the room.
Emelia stared gravely at her young detective. “How are you feeling?”
“Not too bad considering.”
The elderly woman moved to his bedside and surprised him by reaching out for his good hand. She squeezed it warmly. “Benjamin, there are no words. Thank you seems inadequate for the service you have done for me and for Nancy.”
“You are welcome. How is Nancy?”
“Fine. They’re going to keep her under observation for a few more hours. She had taken a Benadryl earlier in the day which delayed the onset of symptoms.” She shuddered at the memory of her best friend calmly chewing peanuts. “I cannot believe Jane’s maleficence. Nance sends her love and will be in to see you tomorrow.”
“Aunt Emelia?” Lynn stood in the hospital room’s doorway. “Your three minutes are up. There’s a line out here.”
Over the next hour a steady stream of people appeared to commiserate over Kalico’s wounds and to wish him well. M’s and Katie entered to share “before” and “after” pictures of Ghost, who had been bathed and groomed and was safely back at Star Ranch. Mrs. Buonanotte smuggled in Zoe and cannoli, making him laugh until his aching head ached some more. His parents arrived, anxious but proud, followed by his older sisters, Karen and Karla. Finally, only Lynn remained.
“You look exhausted,” she murmured. “I should go too.”
Kalico patted the bedside, grinning at her crookedly. “What? No succor for a wounded man?”
Lynn laughed and gently eased in beside him, resting her head on his good shoulder.
“That’s better.”
“Ben, I don’t know how to thank you. If anything had happened to Aunt Em….”
“Just doin’ my job,” he drawled. “But seriously, I think your aunt and Nancy would have been fine. If you could have seen Emelia tackling Jane and Nancy hurling that wine bottle––they were not going down without a fight!”
“Still, I’m grateful that you believed Aunt Emelia—that you took her seriously.”
Kalico chuckled. “She didn’t give me much choice.”
Lynn sighed and lifted her face, kissing him slowly and sweetly.
“Hold on!” Kalico teased after a moment. “It’s not our fifth date yet”
“I’m an English teacher, Ben. And English teachers can’t count!” She brushed her lips over his again before snuggling into his shoulder.
“At least we’ve broken the Kalico curse!”
“What curse?”
“It’s just something my dad always says—that Kalico men are destined for women whose names begin with ‘K’.”
Lynn laughed. “But, Ben, I thought you knew: Lynn is short for Kaitlyn—with a K!”
Kalico groaned, but tightened his arm around her. “Did I say, ‘curse?’ I meant blessing.”
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Penny S. Weibly is a lifelong educator who earned her masters and doctorate in English literature from the University of Texas at Austin. She has taught English at the university level, directed a non-profit designed to assist students who have dropped out of school, and been a freelance writer for multi-media companies. Currently, she teaches English literature and creative writing at a private Catholic high school. She loves to read, travel, exercise, and spend time with friends. Her students inspire her daily. She resides in Austin, Texas, with her beloved dogs Zoe and Riley.
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