“I don’t think she killed David.” Tilly tried to look as if this was an ordinary conversation, but the knife made it a difficult.
Gretchen looked taken aback. “Well, of course not.”
“How do you know?” It was a loaded question, but she had to ask.
“Everything would’ve been okay if Lena hadn’t been so offensive. She hurt my feelings and set David off.” Gretchen whipped around to face Tilly with the knife clenched in her hand. “He was stinking drunk. He’d passed out but woke up a little after she left. He kept yelling she was a slut. And then”—she sucked in a deep breath—“he called me all sorts of vile names. Teased me—said Lena was right—that I was in love with her. I could’ve taken anything he threw at me. I’ve been doing so for my whole life, but then he started on Sienna and Mina.”
“I’m so sorry. I know how you did everything for him here.” Tilly tried to get Gretchen calmed down. “And you did a wonderful job. Your father is very proud of you.”
“And he should be. David was a waste of skin.” Gretchen touched her frizzy hair to smooth it back. “I was washing the dishes. All the while, he sat there, going on and on about how he planned to take Mina away from her mother. I couldn’t let it happen, could I?”
The loaded question made Tilly’s stomach clench. Acid burned her throat. Gretchen waited for her answer with an inquisitive gaze. “I…it’s…ah…well…”
Gretchen patted her hand. “Anyway, one minute I was holding the meat tenderizer, and the next thing I knew, I hit him. He wasn’t my brother at that point—just a lousy waste of skin who liked to hurt people. Once I got started, I couldn’t stop. It was so cathartic to bash his head in. Wham, wham, wham.” She made the motion of swinging the mallet with the hand holding the knife. “Messy, too. I had to clean up and borrow a pair of his sweats to get out of the apartment.”
“Oh, Gretchen.” She couldn’t help the horror in her voice.
“He deserved it. So did Juliette DuPres. She was screwing my father. It upset Mother. She may not like me, but I love her.” Her words came fast and furiously. “Juliette had to pay. It was really a fluke. I went down to talk to her after Mother made her little stink. I knew about her allergy. It was so easy to lift some shrimp paste from the pantry.” She gave a little snort of derision. “I slipped it in when she turned her back on me to go into the walk-in refrigerator. It only took a little on a spoon and a stir of the pot.” She smiled as if enjoying her own cleverness. “I tried her bouillabaisse and told her it was too bland.”
Tilly knew why Juliette sampled the bouillabaisse. No chef, especially one of her caliber, liked to be told her food was flawed. “She tasted it.”
“Yes. Just one spoonful. It was amazing to watch her choke. All from a little bit of shrimp.”
“What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t. The opportunity to rid myself of problem arose, and I took it.”
Tilly screwed up a bit of courage. She had to act as if they were discussing world events instead of murder.
“She didn’t die at once, but I’m sure you already know that.”
Tilly nodded. She took stock of the room—how could she make it to the door? The odds didn’t look good, but no matter, she had to get out of here and back to Sarah.
“I had to help her along.” Gretchen brought out the knife, all pretense aside. “I sat on her and covered her mouth and nose with paper towels. It took a while. Damned inconvenient. Especially when I had to get ready for dinner. It took longer to clean the kitchen than I thought—I barely made it in time. Mother gave me a tongue-lashing for that as well.” Gretchen sighed. “She doesn’t know what I did to protect her from Detective Crespo’s insistent questioning.”
“Detective Crespo?” The sick knot in Tilly’s stomach grew hard with dread.
“The man was a swine.” Gretchen let out an impatient snort. “I followed him that morning. He didn’t have the brains to eat and walk at the same time.”
“But he figured out you were the killer.”
“He came to me. Said he knew who killed David. Lena was already in jail for the murders, so he offered to keep my name out of his reports for a hundred thousand dollars.”
“Gretchen—”
“How dare he!” Gretchen’s agitation grew worse. She motioned with the knife in her hand. “All it took was one little nudge.”
Tilly’s phone chimed to let her know she had a text message.
Gretchen took the phone out of her hand. “You won’t be needing this.” She threw it across the room, where it landed under a chair. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?”
She motioned Tilly up with the knife. “I’m sorry I have to do this, but I can’t let anyone find out the truth. I like you, and I appreciate you listening to my ramblings. But you’re too smart for your own good. I knew the minute you spotted the glitter that everything had fallen into place.”
She wrapped an arm around Tilly’s shoulder and gave a not-so-subtle jab with the knife. It cut through the material of her chef’s jacket and T-shirt. “I think I made my point.” Gretchen laughed at her awful pun. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it.” She nudged Tilly toward the green room door.
The thought of Sarah, her precious daughter, being without a mother spurred Tilly into action. She managed to wrest her arm free and give Gretchen a jab in the stomach with her elbow.
A satisfying woof gave her the courage to run.
She made it to the door, but Gretchen was faster.
The knife flashed.
Tilly dodged and deflected the knife without the blade making contact with her skin. The sleeve of her jacket took the brunt of the blow. She reached for the knife before it could slice at her again.
They struggled, each grappling for the handle of the weapon with both hands. Tilly’s nails dug into Gretchen’s fingers, and the knife slipped.
Gretchen let out a hiss of pain as it sliced through the side of her hand, leaving a deep cut in its wake.
“Now that was a bitchy thing to do. I don’t like you anymore.” Pain didn’t deter Gretchen. She grabbed Tilly by the collar of her chef’s jacket with her bloody hand. Her surprisingly strong arm wrapped around Tilly’s neck. She held the knife at Tilly’s throat. The tip pricked the skin under her jaw. “We’re going to take a little trip upstairs to the roof. Have you ever been up there? No? You’ll enjoy the view.” Gretchen gave her a push out of the green room and toward the stairs.
“I hate heights.” Tilly was pissed. She became a dead weight, making it difficult for the crazy woman. Gretchen’s arm constricted tighter until she was unable to breathe.
“None of that.” She gave Tilly a hard shake. “Or I might have to visit that sweet kid of yours. Things happen in the city. I can make them happen. Did you know that?”
They took the stairs at a lurching gait with Gretchen being none too gentle. Tilly stumbled and banged her knees so hard she saw stars.
“Leave Sarah alone!” she wheezed past Gretchen’s choke hold and got to her feet with a power assist from Gretchen. “Don’t you hurt her.”
“That depends on you.” She stopped at the top of the stairs. “Open the door.”
Tilly hesitated. This wasn’t how she’d planned on ending her life. It should be from old age with her family around her. Not at the hands of a lunatic.
“Open the damned door,” Gretchen growled into her ear.
This time the knife went a bit deeper, and the warm trickle of blood flowed down Tilly’s neck. She reached out with trembling hands and opened the door. Bright sunlight blinded her for a second before Gretchen dragged her outside.
“You don’t have to kill me,” Tilly pleaded and dragged her feet across the roof.
“Of course I do. You know too much know. I loved our little girl talk, but the fun’s over. Time to clean up the mess. And believe me, I’ve spent my life cleaning up messes.” Gretchen’s arm squeezed tighter around Tilly’s neck. “You’re distraught. I found out you and Jordan split up. I
’ll bet you didn’t know I figured that out. Anyway, it left you despondent. There will even be an email on your computer—a last letter to your daughter. I’ll make sure of it.”
“No!” Tilly cried. It was cruel to do something like that to Sarah. The thought of her child reading the lie gave her the strength for one more struggle, one last try.
…
Jordan pinched the bridge of his nose to ease a fast-growing headache. Tilly hadn’t called him yet? They’d decided she should let them know when her show. He glanced at his wall clock. She should’ve finished taping by now.
Hank was supposed to drop by to meet with them after her shoot. He hadn’t arrived yet, either.
A small poke on his hip made him smile. He pulled the ring from his pocket. It had dug into him all morning and afternoon, but it was a small price to pay for being an ass. He should’ve told Tilly about Juliette. He shouldn’t have lied, and most of all, he should’ve had faith in himself. Yes, he’d pulled some boneheaded stunts since he’d met Tilly, but he was nothing like Jake, or John. He was Jordan Kelly.
He slipped the ring back into his pocket and vowed to keep it there until she said yes.
He decided to forgo checking email for a while. His eyes were shot. Maybe he should go to the optometrist to have them checked. It would be ironic if both he and Tilly needed reading glasses. He put his feet on top of his desk and lounged in his chair with his aching eyes closed—until he heard Hank’s familiar triple knock.
“It’s open.” He opened his eyes and motioned Hank in. “Take a seat.”
Hank sat in a chair that looked a half size too small for his large frame. “You need a bigger chair.”
“I need a bigger office to accommodate a bigger chair.” He grinned at his friend and brought his feet back to the floor. “I’ll negotiate it in my next contract.”
“Is Tilly ready to go?”
“She hasn’t called.” Jordan looked at the clock on his wall. “She should’ve been done fifteen minutes ago.” A sudden realization hit him. “Oh, man. I had my phone in airplane mode so it wouldn’t go off during my taping. I forgot to put it back into normal mode. Let me check to see if she called.” He put his phone back onto his default settings. The notification of a message from her appeared. A quick shuffle through the message app brought it up. Sent three minutes ago.
Gretchen with me in green room. Has purple glitter on her sweater. Acting strange. I think she’s the killer.
The hot fist of fear squeezed his heart. Gunfire, blood, horrible injuries, and walking down dark streets didn’t frighten him. Losing Tilly did. He jumped to his feet and shoved the phone into Hank’s hand.
“I’m going to the green room.” He took off, not bothering to see if his friend followed.
The door was open, and no one was there.
Hank skidded to a stop behind him. “Where are they?” He stuffed Jordan’s cell back into his hand, then turned to check out the hallway and tried the doors to the different offices.
He followed Hank’s lead. “Tilly?” he called out.
She didn’t answer.
He returned to the green room and dialed her phone. It began to ring, and he heard a Yes, Chef. No, Chef. Yes, Chef. His ring. He tracked the sound until he found the phone under an armchair in the corner. Where was she?
“Jordan!”
The urgency in Hank’s voice spurred him on. He found his friend, crouched and scrubbing his chin with his hand. Blood spattered in drops over the floor.
Dear God, don’t let it be Tilly’s.
“The direction of the spatter says she went that way, toward the door.” Hank turned and walked down the hall at fast clip. He pointed in the stairway door at the end of the hall. “She went this way.”
They shoved open the door, and more droplets decorated the landing. The scarlet bath led them to last flight and the open door to the roof.
Tilly’s scream echoed from the rooftop.
He couldn’t think past getting to Tilly. He raced through the door to see Gretchen dragging her closer to the ledge.
“Stop it!” he bellowed.
“I can’t do that.” Gretchen heaved an exasperated sigh. “Why can’t people leave me alone to do my job? Now my father will be mad at me. I can’t take it anymore. Just when things start working out, it gets ruined. Not this time.”
Hank pulled his gun and aimed. “Let her go, Gretchen.”
The woman shook her head and squeezed tighter on Tilly’s neck, pulling her closer as a human shield.
Tilly clawed at her arm.
“Put the gun away.” Gretchen pressed the knife deeper into Tilly’s neck. A thin stream of blood ran down the silky skin Jordan had kissed a hundred times. “One more stunt like that, and I’ll slit her throat.”
Impotence filled Jordan with rage. They had to rescue Tilly, or she could end up like DuPres, Hirschberg, and Crespo.
Anger and regret, mixed in with a healthy dose of fear, filled Tilly’s eyes. It was difficult to watch, but Jordan couldn’t afford to look away. “I love her, Gretchen. I need her.”
“That’s really sweet, but no.” She gave a jerk of her arm and half dragged, half walked Tilly back toward the edge of the roof. “Don’t come any closer. If we both die, there won’t be a scandal. She knows too much about what I’ve done. I want to clean this up. Nice and tidy.”
They were at the very edge of the building. “Don’t worry, Tilly. It will be quick.”
Tilly’s blue eyes went wild, and she began to struggle harder even as the small blade jabbed at her. Jordan slowly moved to one side, keeping his distance but getting into position to rush Gretchen whenever Hank made his move.
Three officers charged through the roof doorway. They reached for their weapons, but Hank motioned them back. “I’ve got this. Gretchen, I’m giving you a warning. I’ll shoot if you move another inch.”
“Go ahead,” she snarled. “Everybody has to die sometime.” She took another step backward until she and Tilly were standing next to the low ledge of the roof.
Hank’s eyes focused on Tilly for a split second. “Sorry, pally.” He squeezed the trigger.
Gretchen screamed in surprise. The shot caught her in the elbow of the arm she had wrapped around Tilly’s throat. Her grip loosened, and Tilly jerked out of her hold.
Jordan ran forward, but not in time. Gretchen reached out, grabbing Tilly’s chef’s jacket and let herself fall backward, taking Tilly with her.
Gravity won.
Tilly lost her footing. She hit the ledge, teetered, and began to fall. Her scream would live with him forever.
She clung to the ledge with one arm as best she could. “Jordan!” Her fingers dug into the hard bricks as she scrabbled for a hold.
Her hand slipped, but he grabbed it just as her fingers let go.
“Jordan!”
He hauled her up and into his arms. Together, they collapsed on the rooftop.
He breathed her in, relishing the feel of her as he pulled her in his lap. “Matilda Jane Danes, don’t you ever do anything like this to me again.” He ran his hands through her hair and cupped the back of her head before kissing her. She tasted like paradise. Sweet, spicy, and so inviting. Her tongue met his in a feast of life. “I love you. Damn it to hell, I love you so much it’s killing me.”
She eased away, tears streaming down her face, and with a smile that filled his heart. Her body shuddered against his from shock of her near fall.
“Damn it to hell, I love you, too.”
“You need to go to the hospital.” His hands trembled as he gently moved her chin to one side to look at the cuts on her neck.
She shook her head. “I know a medic who’s pretty handy at first aid.” She caressed his face with quaking fingers. “A little antiseptic and a couple Band-Aids will do the trick. I want to go home. I need to be with my baby.”
He knew he should be jealous, but he didn’t have it in him. He could understand the need to see her daughter—and with any luck, h
is daughter.
Hank came over and crouched beside them. His eyes softened, and he tugged at one of her curls. “Gretchen won’t bother you again, pal. She’s gone.” He glanced over at him. “I’ve got to take care of this, make a few calls. I’ll let Greg Hirschberg know what happened. Someone will call you when you need to come in for a statement.” Hank stood and started to walk to where an officer waited. He turned back around. “Hey, pally—don’t you think it’s time to make an honest man of him?”
“I’m never lettin’ him out of my sight.” She sat up straighter in his lap. “Jordan Kelly, will you marry me?”
Jordan shifted her around so he could reach into his jeans pocket. His fingers searched but came up empty.
Tilly glanced up at him with concern in her eyes. “What’s wrong? You don’t want to marry me? I’d understand if—”
“Wait a second. Just one little…” He pulled the topaz and diamond ring from the depths of his pocket. “Yes.” He took her hand and slipped it on the third finger of her left hand. “Most definitely yes.”
“Good.” She stared down at the ring gracing her finger. “Wow. Oh, wow.” She gave him a cheeky smile. “Ruby’s goin’ to be singin’ the ‘Hallelujah Chorus.’”
“Well, damn.” He put a finger under her chin, careful of her cuts, and tipped her face up to his. “I was saving that song for our wedding night.”
Epilogue
Tilly was as nervous, or maybe more so, than Sarah. She, Jordan, and Ruby stood outside Montrose-Hewitt Private School waiting for Sarah and Chad Carlisle to arrive. There were enough paparazzi to make the junior high dance look like a red carpet event. “Oh, I hope I didn’t make a mistake.”
“Anythin’ to put that little twerp Mark Guthrie’s nose outta joint is fine with me.” Ruby glared over at the object of her scorn. “He’s lucky I don’t believe in voodoo.” She patted the front of her purple satin dress. “I’ll bet Mabel Yoder will take one gander at me on the late news tonight and have a cow.” She cackled under her breath. “An absolute cow.”
Chad Carlisle’s limo pulled up to the curb. The pop star stepped from the limo and held his hand out to Sarah. She emerged looking like a dream in a cocktail-length, deep blue dress. Antique lace peeked from the hem and at the edges of her off-the-shoulder puff sleeves.
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