"So what? You just murdered him for the fun of it?" Emily asked, seriously wondering how she could have worked with this woman for this long and not realized she was a complete psychopath.
"What do you take me for? A psychopath?" Destiny demanded as if reading her mind.
Emily shrugged, indicating that if the shoe fits…
"I did this for revenge," Destiny said angrily, her eyes taking on a feverish glow.
"But revenge for what? You just said yourself that you didn't even know the guy. Revenge for the way he hurt Annabeth and Violet?"
"No one cares about their friends that much," Destiny said offhandedly. Emily wondered if Destiny had ever had a true friend in her life. "No," she continued. "I like Annabeth and Violet and all that, and finding out that Bodley was a despicable human being was just the icing on the cake. But I wasn't out for revenge on Bodley. He was merely my means of revenge on Sapphira."
"Sapphira?" Emily was thoroughly confused. "Did you know Sapphira before you moved here? She's lived here quite awhile."
Destiny began to pace the small prop room, much the same way Emily had when she'd been trapped, only she was waving the candlestick wildly, spittle forming in the corners of her mouth as she began to rage about Sapphira ruining her life. Emily noticed that all trace of her limp was gone. "Let me give you a little insight into what kind of person Sapphira truly is. I mean, we can all see she's a worthless mother and a self-centered human being." Emily cringed to hear Destiny's harsh criticism, but she stayed silent, not wanting to aggravate Destiny further.
"Lance was the love of my life. It was such a cliché. Me, the young undergrad, falling for the handsome, older graduate assistant. But he was brilliant, gorgeous, kind, funny, attentive, everything I could ever want in a man. We had our whole life together mapped out." Emily saw genuine pain in Destiny's eyes, and tears formed in her own, thinking of the future she longed for with Tad. Would she make it out of here alive? Would those dreams ever come to fruition?
"Things were perfect between Lance and me until he met her." Her mouth curled down, grimacing at the thought of Sapphira. "Of course, I didn't know who she was at first. But I knew Lance had changed. He went to a conference and met her there. At the hotel, I guess. When I confronted him about his sudden withdrawn behavior, he admitted to having met someone else. He said he loved her, that they were going to be together. She was his soul mate and crap like that. All things he had told me and I had foolishly believed. But I wasn't going to play the fool. I followed him and discovered who he was seeing. I began to watch her, trying to understand what his fascination with her was. I mean, she was older than him and look at her! She dresses like a cheap floozy. She had a daughter, for goodness' sake. How could he fall for her when he had me?"
Emily tried to make her way slowly toward the door while Destiny continued to pace, seeming oblivious to the fact that she was even in the room because she was so caught up in retelling her story of heartbreak. But Destiny swung back and headed toward her, still swinging the candlestick, before she could reach the door.
"He was the fool, I realized. Not me. Because do you know what that—that—thing was doing to my Lance? She was cheating on him, seeing other men behind his back! I was going to tell him, to spare him from the same hurt and humiliation he had caused me, but before I could, he found out himself. I was following him, and I saw the whole blowup. I knew he would come to his senses then, but when I tried to comfort him, he told me I was obsessed, that he was leaving town. I wanted to go with him, but he said he would call the cops on me if he saw me following him again. I could tell that his heart was broken. That pathetic excuse for a human being broke my Lance's heart! And for that, as well as for ruining my own life, I planned my revenge. Do you know what my favorite book is, Emily?"
Once again trying to sneak closer to the door, Emily stopped in her tracks when Destiny asked this. She was caught off guard by the sudden, unexpected question, but she didn't want to anger Destiny any further by admitting that she didn't know. She wracked her brain for the answer, knowing they'd discussed this when they first met. After a beat of silence, it came to her, and she blurted, "The Great Gatsby!"
"That's right, Em. The Great Gatsby. Sapphira is the Daisy Buchanan to my Nick Carraway. Nick cared for Gatsby, remember, and he grew to detest Daisy for the way she broke his heart. Sapphira is the same kind of careless, thoughtless person. She smashes up people, manipulates them, uses them, and then she retreats into her own selfish desires, thinking nothing of the destruction left in her wake. Daisy Buchanan may never have had to pay for her crimes, but I have a different ending in mind than Fitzgerald's. You see, I'm making sure that Sapphira pays for her crimes.
"Sapphira never met me before I moved here, but I have watched her from a distance for a long time now, ever since I found out Lance was seeing her. I first pushed Annabeth to reach out to Jeweliah, taking her daughter away from her. But then, once I met her in person, I realized that Sapphira is a lousy mom, who never gives her daughter a second thought. No, the way to hurt her, I saw, would be to take away the man she viewed as the love of her life. To leave her alone and miserable. Just like she did to me. And so, Bodley had to go."
The simple, almost careless way Destiny said this made Emily's blood run cold. The irony was almost too much to bear. Use people? Manipulate people? Destiny was clearly the master. She was the true definition of a psychopath, and if Emily didn't find a way out of this room soon, she was afraid she would end up just like Bodley. Another casualty in the storm of Destiny's bitter anger.
"You know what the sad part is in all of this?" Destiny asked her in a friendly tone, as if they were really sharing dinner on their girls' night out.
There seemed to be no other response than "all of it," so Emily once again stayed silent. Destiny answered her own question, ignoring the silence. "If things had turned out differently, I think we would have been good friends. But I didn't come to Ellington to make friends. I came to make Sapphira Jones's life a living hell."
"But we were friends, Destiny. Think of the other friends you've made here. Think of your students. Think of Albert. Don't any of them matter to you?"
"Sure, but not as much as exacting my plan of revenge. I'm very goal-oriented, don't you know? Once I make a plan, I follow through. I mean, look at what a great job I did with helping you put together this play."
"Exactly," Emily said, latching onto the last part of her statement. "You've put so much effort and time into planning for and helping with this play. If you follow through with hurting me, the play will never happen. This place will be closed down as a crime scene too. You don't want that for the students, do you?"
"Nice try," Destiny said, stopping her pacing and moving toward Emily. "But everyone will be blaming Annabeth for that, not me. And I'm sure the play will be held eventually. Maybe I'll even suggest that we hold it in memorial to you now, as well, the beloved hometown English teacher."
When Destiny tossed her purse aside and gripped the candlestick in both hands, wielding it like a baseball bat, Emily knew that the time for chitchat was over. There was nowhere to run and nothing to use to defend herself but her bare hands. She had hoped that Gabby and Violet would come looking for them when they didn't show up at the restaurant, but Destiny had probably locked the front doors behind her. They would have no way in. Annabeth might come looking for them, but that was only if Destiny was telling the truth, which was doubtful. Annabeth was probably knocked out cold somewhere. By the time Gabby got someone to open the doors so she could look for Emily, it would be too late. By then, she would be the second victim in this deranged woman's war on Sapphira, and Destiny would be long gone, busy framing Annabeth for another murder. There was no way out.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Emily tried to maneuver herself so that the small table they kept in the prop room was between her and Destiny. Destiny, smiling grimly, kept pace with her. Desperate to stall for time, she asked, "What happened to your limp? Ankle mir
aculously better?" She knew she sounded sarcastic, but it no longer seemed to matter if she upset Destiny any more. The woman was intent on killing her—it didn't get any more ticked off than that.
"I never hurt my ankle. I kept it wrapped so everyone would think so though. As for that concussion, it was real. I guess your clumsiness has rubbed off on me since I truly did fall while 'searching' for the missing lead pipe."
"Why? Why bother with the charade?"
"You didn't suspect me, and neither did anyone else, because I was supposedly hurt by the real culprit."
"You're insane, you know that?" Emily was thoroughly disgusted at herself for not seeing through Destiny before this. How had she kept up such a perfect front these last few months?
She scooted to the other side of the table, scanning the walls and floor for anything she could use to attack back. A piece of her cell phone's shattered case crunched beneath her heel, but she was afraid to take her eyes off Destiny to look down. She knew that the minute she let down her guard, Destiny would strike. She was running out of stall time.
"What about Albert?" she threw out, inching closer to the door.
Destiny pivoted and blocked the only escape route once again. "Albert? What a pathetic leech. He was thrilled to jump whenever I asked him for anything. What a loser."
They locked eyes, and Emily knew her time was up. Destiny lunged, and she threw up her hands in automatic reflex. The sound of the lock turning was so unexpected that they both froze to stare at the door.
"There you are!" Albert exclaimed, relief evident in his voice. "Thank God. I was so worried. How did you both manage to get locked in here?"
Destiny stood, mouth hanging slack as she gaped at Albert. "What are you doing here?" she finally asked.
"Rescuing you, fair damsel," he said, moving to her side.
Emily took her chance and sprinted for the open door, but Destiny was quicker. "Not so fast," she said, slamming the door at her back.
"Destiny? What's going on?" Albert asked. He had obviously been expecting Destiny to throw herself in his arms and thank him for saving her. Poor Albert. The shock of finding out that Destiny was a cold-blooded murderer would break his heart. If he was alive to worry about that, of course.
"Destiny is the one behind all this," Emily shouted.
"All what?" a confused Albert asked, reaching out to hug Destiny and looking extremely shocked when she pushed his arms away.
"Everything!" Emily cried. "The switching of the props, the poisoning of the pastries, the murdering of Bodley."
"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," Albert scoffed.
"Of course it is," Destiny said sweetly, pasting on a fake smile.
Albert wrapped his arms around her and glared at Emily. "What are you playing at, Emily?"
"I'm telling you the truth!"
"Now, how did you know where to find us?" Destiny asked, stroking his arm with one hand, the other still firmly gripping the candlestick.
"When you guys didn't show up at the restaurant, Violet and Gabby called Annabeth. Annabeth tried the doors to the Playhouse to see what was keeping you. When she found out they were locked, she called me. We were worried that the real murderer might have been hiding in the theater and that you two were in real trouble. So is that who locked you in?" Albert scanned the area with his eyes, reaching for the doorknob.
"Yes, that's exactly what happened," Destiny agreed.
"And did you see the person? Do you know who the murderer is?" Albert asked her.
"She's staring right at you," Destiny told him, pointing at Emily and smiling smugly.
This time it was Emily who was left gaping. So this is how she was going to play this? Convince Albert that she was the real murderer? She might be tempted to play along if it meant getting out of here, but she knew Destiny better than that. The only way Albert was leaving here alive was if he was framed for her murder. And the only way she was leaving alive was if she was able to convince Albert that Destiny was the one behind all this.
"Emily?" Albert asked stupidly.
"Yes, Emily," Destiny said forcefully. "Now why don't you step out in the hall and call the police? I'll keep an eye on her." She brandished the candlestick.
"I'm not leaving you alone with her for a second," Albert told her. "I told Annabeth to go ahead and take your car on to the restaurant. Why don't we lock Emily back in and then call the police?"
Emily felt a fleeting moment of relief. When Annabeth showed up at the restaurant and filled Violet and Gabby in, surely Gabby would call Tad and the police herself. If she could just stall a little bit longer, maybe she could get them all out of this alive. But one look at Destiny's face, and she knew that plan was most likely a bust. Destiny realized that she was running out of time. She and Albert were goners now.
"Why would you do that?" Destiny screeched at Albert. "I need my car!"
"I can take you on to meet them, or home, or whatever you need. I'm so thankful I found you before Emily had time to hurt you too. Why would you do this?" he asked, turning pain-filled eyes on her.
"I didn't, Albert. You know me. I didn't have any reason to want Bodley dead. But your girlfriend here," she flung out a hand toward Destiny, "wanted him gone to punish Sapphira."
"Sapphira?" Albert looked even more confused. "I know Destiny doesn't like Sapphira but punish her?"
Emily talked quickly, praying she could convince him and the two of them could subdue Destiny. Albert was a frail guy, but between the two of them, surely they could handle a petite, if extremely angry, woman. "Sapphira stole the love of her life, some guy named Lance, and she's determined to make her life as miserable as Sapphira made hers. She tried to turn Jeweliah against her own mother by shoving her at Annabeth, and then she took Sapphira's love from her."
Albert hesitated, looking from one to the other of them. "This story is too convoluted for me to make up," Emily pleaded. "Please believe me."
Albert stared closely at Destiny. "You did say that your ex-boyfriend's name was Lance," he said doubtfully.
"Don't listen to her, sweetheart," Destiny cooed. "She's deranged."
Albert stood still, obviously torn about who to believe. Destiny was focused on Albert, so Emily took her chance. She sprung for the door, managing to twist the knob before the edge of the candlestick caught her on the shoulder, effectively numbing her hand and stealing her breath. She took a staggering step backwards and looked pleadingly at Albert.
"D-Destiny?" he faltered.
"You two are going to ruin everything," she snarled under her breath, swinging at Emily once again.
She tried to duck out of the way, but this time, the blow glanced off her ear, and she went down, sprawling across the table and knocking a loose pile of fabric to the floor as she did so. A fake pair of handcuffs clattered down with it, and without hesitating, Albert scooped them up. Spots were dancing in front of Emily's eyes, but she tried to roll out of the way as Destiny swung again. She felt the rush of air as the candlestick swung above her and closed her eyes, waiting for the slice of pain, but it never came. Fighting the blackness creeping in at the edges of her vision, she turned to see Albert snapping the fake handcuffs around Destiny's wrists and forcing her to the ground. She held on to consciousness long enough to say "thanks" and see him reach for his cell phone before the darkness took over.
* * *
When Emily awoke, an EMT was standing over her, Gabby and Tad hovering near by. Both had tears in their eyes as Emily pushed herself up on her elbows. "Did they get her?" she asked.
"They just took her away," Tad assured her, sitting down beside her to help prop her up. "That's a nasty bump you have there. Let's get you to the hospital and have some more tests run. Is she okay to go with us?" he asked the EMT shining a light in her eyes. When the man nodded, Tad helped her to stand, and although the room swayed, she looked around for Albert. He was standing in the corner, quietly sobbing as he spoke to Gangly Arms. Feeling her eyes on him, he turned, an
d she mouthed "thank you" again. He gave her a sad nod, and then Tad and Gabby led her away.
On the drive to the hospital, they both filled her in on what she had missed while she was locked in the prop room with Crazy Destiny. Jeweliah had broken down and confessed to Tad, but it was not the confession they had been expecting. She was afraid that Annabeth was the one behind all of this, and she didn't know whom to turn to. Tad had taken her in to Sapphira, and they, along with Helen, were trying to reassure her that everything would be okay, even if Annabeth was the guilty party, when Gabby called and reported that Annabeth was worried about Destiny and her. Tad and the police had arrived just as Albert was calling 9-1-1. And it was a good thing, too, as those fake handcuffs wouldn't have restrained Destiny for long.
"Did she admit her guilt to the police?" Emily asked, sprawled in the backseat with her head in Gabby's lap.
"No, she was protesting her innocence all the way out the door," Tad told her, pulling into the hospital parking lot.
"But she told me everything," Emily protested.
"And as soon as we have a doctor look at your head, you can tell Detective Welks everything," Tad said. "And then we have to make sure you get some rest."
"Absolutely," Emily agreed, "because this time, the show must go on."
EPILOGUE
And go on, it did. Despite the news of Destiny's arrest or perhaps because of it, the Encore Playhouse was packed to the rafters. The doctor had cleared Emily the night before and then sent her home with some heavy-duty headache medicine. She had spent the night in Gabby's guest room and, upon waking the next morning, had found Tad asleep on their couch, unwilling to let her out of his sight.
Her parents had shown up by the time breakfast was ready, and after a lengthy lecture on not informing them of her plan to try to trap a killer, albeit the wrong one, into a confession, they had driven her home for a long nap. Now she sat with both them and Tad in the front row, Gabby behind them with Greg.
Murder Takes Center Stage Page 18