I skirted the festivities, keeping to the edge of the darkness that surrounded the party. I had no intention of being drawn into another dance or conversation.
Twenty yards from the revelry, the music was still hardcore. Good thing the co-production invited people in the neighborhood to join the fun. They’d be included whether they left their house or not! I picked up my pace and jogged to the car. I was only feet away from the back bumper when I heard the clop, clop, clop of other footsteps. I resisted looking behind me. It was probably a cast member walking to one of the other cars on the block. I fumbled for the keys, but then remembered I needed to push a button on the BMW key fob for the doors to open. Unlike my Metro which required traditional unlocking.
“Running away? I thought you’d stay and take a final bow for saving the show,” Dale roared.
I recognized the bitter, inebriated voice. I whipped around. “Have you been tailing me?” My voice ran up the scale. Hearing Dale behind me was a scary moment, but I had the advantage. He was bigger, but I was sober. And I had already extricated myself once from his grasp an hour ago. “Go home and sleep it off.” Over his shoulder, the lights and music of the party were a world away.
“That was my part. I should have been up there last night and tonight!” He gestured wildly. “And tomorrow night!”
I extended my arm to prevent any advance on his part. “You should have been up there, but unfortunately you got yourself arrested for murder—”
“I didn’t murder anybody!” Dale cried.
“But you did scam Ruby.”
“And she blackmailed me. Call it even.”
“Dale, for what it’s worth, I believe you about Ruby’s murder. I think you’re innocent.”
“What difference does that make now? The show is over.” His shoulders sagged, and he stumbled forward. My outstretched hands landed on his upper chest. He raised his head mournfully. “Lola. She’ll never want to see me anymore.” There was a rush of movement behind him, the sound of a muffled thud, and Dale crumpled to the ground.
I dropped to my knees. “Dale?”
“I saw him grab you, and I was afraid he’d try something.” It was Alex.
I gazed upward. “He wasn’t assaulting me. He was going to cry.”
“Really? I’m sorry…I didn’t trust him in that condition. You left and then Dale left too.”
I examined Dale’s head. “What did you hit him with? He’s out cold.”
Alex sheepishly produced a piece of pipe. “I found it backstage, and thought I’d better come prepared.”
“I’ll call 911,” I said.
Alex was already tapping numbers on his cell. “I’ve got it covered.” He spoke into his phone, gave dispatch our location.
My cell phone pinged. It must be Bill wondering where I was. It was Pauli: Otto Junior rebuilt classic cars. Found name at car show in NJ last year.
OMG. Otto Junior would know how to rig Ruby’s car to kill her, through carbon monoxide poisoning, and manipulate my car’s brakes, battery, and fuel line. My pulse began to race.
“Something the matter?” Alex asked softly.
“No. I’m not feeling so hot. I need to get home. Do you mind waiting for the ambulance?” Where was it anyway? We should have heard the siren by now. At a minimum, Suki would have alerted Ralph and he should have appeared on the scene.
“I should drive you home. You seem somewhat shaky to me.” Alex took a step closer.
“That’s all right. I’ll be fine.”
“I insist,” he said firmly
“But what about Dale?”
“Dale won’t suffer any lasting effects. I’m not that strong.” Alex smirked. “He’ll come around.”
My cell binged again. “Thanks anyway.” I grabbed the door handle, and then glanced at my phone, which I was still holding. Pauli: Otto Jr used mother’s maiden name Milken…funny… same as music director! I felt dizzy. I couldn’t breathe. Otto A. Heinlein became Alex Milkin. It all fit. An “ordinary guy” with Ruby at the deli…classic cars…and a gut full of vengeance.
“Busy night for you. All those text messages. Why don’t you get in?” It wasn’t a suggestion.
I shut the door and faced Alex. “The ambulance isn’t coming is it?”
21
Alex walked me to the passenger side of the automobile. Then opened the door. “Move,” he murmured, and gestured with a gun that he’d kept hidden by his side until this moment.
My hands trembled as I slid awkwardly across the BMW’s bench, Alex behind me. “You don’t want to do anything stupid. Start the engine,” he said.
I tentatively pressed the ignition button. Without the ambulance coming, I had to rely on Bill getting bothered enough that he would contact Lola or someone else at the party. The music was so loud, she might not hear her phone. If she had it on her. I had to face the facts: no one knew I was riding with a murderous psychopath who’d waited nearly thirty years to avenge his father’s death. “Alex, I can understand how devastating your father’s passing must have been.”
The atmosphere subtly shifted.
“Drive,” he said.
“Where to?” I asked.
“Across town to the highway.”
“Losing your mother so young…” I waited but there was no response. “You were what…sixteen?”
“Stop talking.”
I had no intention of shutting up. Talking was the only defense I had—that and driving as slowly as possible to delay the inevitable. I forced myself to breathe through my mouth as I clenched the steering wheel. “I know about Ruby’s harassment and the restraining order. How did she stalk your father? Visits? Calls? Letters? It was the 80s so no email obviously—”
Alex shoved the gun into my ribs. “Keep quiet,” he hissed—with less conviction, but a tad more hysteria.
“And of course you like cars. Classic cars, right? It makes sense that you would kill Ruby in a car.” He was inhaling as heavily as I was. Had I gotten through to him? No time like the present for the knockout punch. “The same way your father died. The Ambien in her flask was a smart way to guarantee Ruby would fall asleep at the wheel. Why did you remove the bottle from her apartment? Evidence?”
Alex jammed his foot on top of mine and the BMW shot forward. “Go straight through the light.”
So much for maintaining the speed limit. It was the corner of Main and Anderson. I’d been hoping to ease down Anderson, and somehow cut over a couple of streets and end up at Bill’s. Wishful thinking. Alex’s knowledge of Etonville’s streets was on a par with mine.
“It was just your luck that Dale was scamming Ruby at the same time you were planning on murdering her. Making him a prime suspect,” I said with fake bravado.
Alex barked an ugly laugh. “He was a fool to tangle with Ruby Passonata. She was a clever woman. Mean and cruel but clever.”
“She must have ruined your father’s life—”
“My father, my mother, mine.” Sweating profusely, Alex wiped his forehead with the hand holding the gun. “All because he dumped her. The calls, the letters. Stupid love letters I found after my father…” Alex gasped. “It drove my mother insane. Years and years of it. Showing up in our front yard in the middle of the night. Even coming to my baseball games. Screaming stuff from the stands. After my mother died, my father went crazy and had to end it. One of them had to go. He was too much of a coward to kill Ruby so he killed himself.”
“That left Ruby for you…”
Alex’s face twisted in pain. “You want to know the funniest part of it all? The night before he offed himself, he got drunk. Told me he never got over Ruby. Only married my mother because he got her pregnant. I hated him for that. Almost as much as I hated Ruby.”
“I’m sorry Alex. I can imagine—”
“You can’t imagine!” he screamed in my ear, po
unding his gun on the dashboard. “Nobody can!” He latched onto my right wrist.
I winced. Alex was losing it. “Let go or we’re going to crash!” I shouted. Bill’s BMW was now a weapon!
“You think I care? Ruby gave my life purpose. She’s dead. That’s all I ever cared about.”
If Alex was on a suicide mission, he was taking me with him. “If that’s all you cared about you wouldn’t be kidnapping me! Let’s go to the police station and you can talk it out—”
“Turn here!” He grabbed the wheel and yanked it.
I fought for control of the car, but Alex had adrenaline on his side. The BMW veered sharply to the right. I kicked his leg and swung wildly at his face. Alex ducked and jerked away.
Suddenly a figure materialized in the road ahead. A man! On a bike! Bigger than life! It was Wilson. I rammed my foot into the brake pedal and wrenched the wheel with all my might, sending the car up a curb, through a line of bushes, and coming to rest on top of a tree stump. Alex boomeranged off the dashboard, his gun flying out of his grasp.
In a flash, Wilson was at the passenger door jerking Alex from the front seat, wrapping his arms around him in a tight clinch. I’d banged my head on the steering wheel and was seeing stars just before I saw red and blue flashing lights, and heard a siren wailing in the dark night. It’s about time.
* * * *
“Wilson, thank you for following me! But standing in the road like that? I could have killed you.” The EMS crew gave me ice for my head, while Ralph attempted to control the neighborhood, and Bill loaded Alex into a squad car.
“Do-dee! You would never kill me!”
“Not on purpose,” I said, smiling, and gulped from a bottle of water—quenching my parched throat—sore from hollering at Alex.
“I am glad you are okay,” he said softly.
“Because of you.”
“Those men leave ze party after you.” He shrugged. “I had to chase them.”
“How did you keep up with us on your bike?” I asked.
Wilson broke out in a wide grin. “It has electric motor! Thirty five miles per hour!”
Geez. I never thought to question his insistence on riding his bike to and from work regardless of the hour or the weather.
Bill crossed to us and extended his hand. Wilson shook it. “Thank you. You’re a hero.”
“Again,” I added.
“I am no hero…”
“You saved Dodie,” Bill said, all police-chief-like.
“Just like you saved the show,” I said.
“My office will contact you in the morning for a statement,” Bill added.
Wilson glowed. “I am happy to be here,” he said and sauntered off, wheeling his bicycle.
“Me too!” I called after him. I turned to Bill. “What took you so long?”
“I tried to reach someone at the park, but no one answered. Good thing Wilson called 911 and reached Suki.” He sat down next to me. “How are you? Scared the daylights out of me.”
“Me too.”
He examined his gold BMW, now with scrapes along the passenger door and a nice-sized crease in the front end.
“I was steering for my life! I’m lucky I made it out alive.”
Bill put his arm around me. “I know. I’m glad you did.” His crooked grin emerged.
“Sorry about the damage,” I said.
“Did you have to play bumper cars with my BMW? And use a tree stump as a shock absorber?”
“Hey, what happened to your ‘glad I’m alive’?” I asked.
Bill sighed. “I guess it comes with the territory.”
“What territory is that?”
“You!”
“I left the park to get to your place. What did you want to tell me?” I asked huffily.
Bill cleared his throat. “A detailed report came in from the arson squad. The door handles were rigged.”
I was elated that my instincts were correct, then alarmed, again, at Alex’s attempt to get me out of the way. “He knew I was onto him.”
“Good thing you were.” He leaned in.
I put up a hand to stop his progress toward my face. “Here? With everybody looking at us?”
He nodded and kissed me.
Yahoo!
22
Today your passion will rival your common sense. Volatile events are heading your way so be ready for unplanned activities. I shut the horoscope page of the Etonville Standard. I could do with the passion, but I’d had enough volatile events for the present. Peace and tranquility, even boredom, were welcome over the week since Bye, Bye, Birdie closed. Etonville was deserted as the Creston Players went home, the park closed up shop, and some folks went away for vacations. The Windjammer was especially empty today…for a Friday.
“You look nice. Big night?” Benny smirked.
“Wise guy,” I said. It was my birthday. I came in late because I started the day with a lavender bubble bath, splurged on an extra caramel macchiato, and wore my gift to myself: a shimmery royal blue silk blouse and matching leggings. They felt good on my skin. Benny and Gillian ran the dining room for lunch, and I agreed to stay until the supper rush was underway. Then I was off to my own supper event. Bill was cooking at home for us—he’d remembered my day! Steaks on his backyard grill, my favorite beet salad, a fine cabernet. It would be a nice, quiet time. Fine by me.
“Thanks for covering today,” I said to Benny.
“Happy birthday. Enjoy your night off.”
I waved good-bye and walked out of the restaurant onto the sidewalk. At seven thirty, the sun had just begun to set. It would be another hour before it was gone completely. Lovely…Bill and I could dine al fresco—out in the air like Bye, Birdie. Though the show had enriched the theater’s coffers, and established détente between the Etonville Little Theatre and the Creston Players for the time being, both Lola and Walter swore it would be a while before they embarked on another musical journey. In fact, it would be several months before they put out a casting call for the fall show. That meant no more theme food for a while.
The muggy day transformed into a pleasant evening, the air was cooler and dryer. I inhaled the soft, inviting smell of a summer night as I unlocked the door of my rental car. Bill’s BMW was in the body shop. I would have to decide on a long-term transportation solution soon. Having waded through the first four stages of grief over my Metro—denial, anger, bargaining, and depression—I was approaching the fifth and final stage: acceptance. Yesterday, I stopped by the automobile graveyard in Bernridge where demolished cars sat until they were crushed or chopped up. I wanted to bid my Metro a last good-bye. I was sad, but given the shape she was in, it really was time to move on. She ’d been a trusty companion these last hundred and twenty-six thousand miles and she had seen me through some fierce scrapes.
I blamed myself for her torching. If I hadn’t been pursuing Ruby’s past, my Metro might be with me today. I didn’t regret my discoveries about Ruby. Even as Alex broke down and confessed to his life-long mission to punish Ruby, I was astonished at the depth of his and Ruby’s fixations. Under skillful police interrogation, it had all come out. Otto’s shotgun marriage caused Ruby to quit her stellar career and return to Indiana. Feeling betrayed, she embarked on a different career: years of tormenting the Heinlein family. Otto Junior intended to redress his father’s death—triggered by guilt and depression—following Ruby until he figured out a way to get even. He ended up in Creston, and it was fate that the local community theater needed a musical director this past year.
While Alex planned Ruby’s death, Ruby blackmailed Dale for his attempt to fleece her. Alex had a prime suspect handed to him on a silver platter. Alex was in Ruby’s apartment the day I hid under the bed and Alex accompanied Ruby to the deli on the day she died. He finally confronted her about his father, and she mocked him. She had not an ounce of
regret. If Alex had second thoughts about committing murder, his clash with Ruby that day sealed her fate.
My pursuit of Ruby’s past created an obstacle he hadn’t counted on. His knowledge of car mechanics, and the general gossip about my aging vehicle, set me up for the brake tampering, the dead battery, and the car fire. As Alex said…he worked fast!
A combined Etonville/Creston force scoured the field near the crime scene and, sure enough, found the flask that Dale had thrown away in a fit of anger. The flask was laced with Ambien that Alex swiped from Ruby’s medicine cabinet. Though cleared of murder charges, Dale received a fraud indictment and awaited trial. He wouldn’t be singing with the Creston Players for a while. Which reminded me…no wonder Alex was so efficient at the technical rehearsal! Bill found the cue sheets in his car.
Ruby…definitely a mystery woman whose life was a complicated maze of extreme habits, events, and emotions.
I cruised through the streets of Etonville, and felt a jumble of emotions myself. I finally admitted my pursuit of Ruby’s past had something to do with my great aunt Maureen. Last night, my parents called to say happy birthday. In the course of the conversation, I broached the topic of my aunt.
“Why did Maureen leave banking? I mean she had such a great career going,” I asked my parents.
“Life’s not only about work,” my mother answered wisely.
Was that a reference to my own employment history? “True, but did she ever talk about leaving banking?”
“Once. She said it wasn’t fun anymore,” my father replied.
Fun. Right. That made sense given my aunt.
“By the way, have you and Bill decided on where to vacation?” my mother asked. “We’d love to see you…”
She let the rest of the thought dangle.
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