by Ginny Aiken
On my way to the car, I detoured toward the dive shop, where I’d left my belongings in a locker, but then I noticed Dutch’s pickup in the parking lot. Rather than waste time going inside, digging through the locker, dressing, and all that other fluff, I yelled for Dutch.
“Hurry! I need your help.”
He loped toward us, questions in his eyes.
I turned to Lila. “You and your Smurfs better have some extra pairs of those spiffy bracelets of yours.”
She looked puzzled. “More handcuffs? What are you up to now, Haley?”
I saw that Dutch had slowed down to a walk. “Hey! Get a move on. We have more work to do yet.”
Lila stepped into my path. “You’re not going anywhere but home. This is in the hands of the police.”
“Wanna spar for it?”
Her eyes narrowed. She remembered our infamous match at Ty’s dojo last year. She followed me to the parking lot.
I continued. “Because we’re really not finished yet. Yeah, Stewart Marshall performed KC’s abortion, a late-term one, since from what I can tell, she hid her pregnancy almost to the end, but he didn’t kill her.”
Dutch loped up. “What do you mean, he didn’t kill her? Who killed KC?”
I stepped toward his truck. Lila again moved into my path.
Dutch grabbed my arm. “What’s going on—”
“Haley Farrell, I’m going to put you under arrest if you—”
My shrill whistle cut them both off. I took my fingers out of my mouth. “Will you listen to me already? Yes, Stewart Marshall is a baby butcher, but he didn’t kill KC. We have to hurry, or Deedee and Madeleine will get away.”
“What?” Lila asked.
Dutch scratched his head. “How do you figure?”
“Remember Jackie? Remember she said Madeleine had been through a lot lately? That she didn’t want any part in a setback? I called Jackie again last night to sort of talk about the party but really for info. Turns out Madeleine’s a stroke survivor. And Bella’s friend Wanda does have magic fingers. I called her too. Go check Madeleine’s medicine chest. She’s the one with the Coumadin. She hadn’t transferred her prescription from Portland when Wanda first checked.”
Understanding dawned on the detective’s face. “I’m on my way.”
Now we knew all the whos.
The only thing we still didn’t know was why.
Dutch and I followed Lila, who wisely gave up any further attempt to discourage us. But to my dismay, we got caught behind a red traffic light.
“It’s nice to know you’re such a law-abiding citizen,” I commented, tongue in cheek.
“Didn’t I tell you I was innocent from the start?”
“I meant the traffic light, you goof. But with the other deal, didn’t I help you? Didn’t I risk my life for you?”
The light turned green. “Oh, right. Not only did you help me just like I helped you last year, remember? But now you feel you have to one-up me with the death-defying factor? Women!”
“Hey! That’s a low blow. This has nothing to do with gender. Where’s the thanks, pal? How ’bout some groveling?” I waggled my fingers in a gimme gesture. “Come on. I’m waiting.”
He shot me an impish grin. “You know I’m grateful, and you’re just being a pain. Thank you ever so much, Haley Farrell. Now that you’ve saved my sorry hide, it’s all yours. Don’t forget that old saying, the one about being responsible for the life you save.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s all I need. One ornery contractor. All my own. Thanks, but no thanks. You can have your sorry self back.”
“Don’t be so quick to turn down that generous offer. There are those who consider me quite a catch.”
“Sure. Like catfish and carp are big catches too.”
“Oh, you wound me so...”
I tipped up my chin. “I’m going to ignore you. I’m going to think of the future. I’m going to think of seeing the princess of pink in a fashionable orange jumpsuit.”
He turned the corner to the Marshalls’ street, and the twin brick columns appeared up ahead and to our right. He angled the nose of the truck to enter the Marshall estate.
Dutch treated me to a wicked smile. “The orange won’t go with her complexion, you know—”
“Hey! Look at that.”
A pink convertible approached the columns from behind a thicket of shrubs to the left of the gates. “Hurry!” I yelled. “Don’t let her get away.”
The pink car sped up; the landscaping bit the dust. Deedee leaned forward, a look of pure hate on her twisted features.
My gut clenched. “Dutch! She’s not going to stop.”
“Wanna make a bet?” He spun the steering wheel hard left, and the truck skidded sideways between the columns, blocking the opening. “Hang on tight, Haley. You were right. She’s not going to stop.”
He lunged over me. Deedee barreled her fancy foreign car into the side of the truck bed. The impact jarred me, even my back molars, but a second later I was able to open the door and jump out. Deedee had the same idea, but I was in far better condition than she was.
I tackled her.
She fell.
Dutch cheered.
From my vantage point on top of Deedee, I turned to see him give a victory V. “Face it, Farrell,” he said. “We make one wicked good team.”
And then it hit me. We really did.
What’s worse, I liked him. And I was glad we’d succeeded.
I nodded slowly, not sure what it all meant. Especially for the future. “Oh yeah, Merrill, we’re pure peanut butter and jelly on wheels.”
As if on cue, Lila and her Smurfs came down from the house and clapped bracelets on the enraged Deedee. Lila told us that when she’d called the Smurfs on her way to the mansion, the blue crew had found the now-shackled Stewart Marshall at his office. And he’d conveniently packed a suitcase for his visit to the Jailhouse Ritz.
That first wave of Smurfs had asked Lila for backup after she told them to nab the Barbie-doll bride, and now that the criminal bride and groom were neatly tied up, the whole blue army was combing the vast property for every last shred of evidence they might find. It would probably take them the better part of the day... maybe even night.
Lila and Chris bundled Deedee into the detective’s unmarked car and drove away.
Then it was just the two of us. Oh, and Dutch’s totaled truck.
I pointed to the demolished side. “What are you going to do now?”
He shrugged. “It wasn’t my smartest move, was it?”
“Especially now that you’re unemployed.”
“What can I say? Truth must prevail.” I watched the slow smile dawn. “Well, well, well...”
I was in trouble—even if I didn’t know how.
When I didn’t comment, his smile broadened. “Seems this is my lucky day after all. Remember what I said about saving my life and you owning it and all that? Well, whether you like it or not, I’m all yours.”
“I already told you to forget it, Merrill.”
He laid a chummy arm over my shoulders. “And it just so happens that you’re loaded, Farrell. Since I saved your hide too, and since in our joint pursuit of a crook, I did my splendid vehicle sore harm, you can demonstrate your largesse and replace old Barney here—”
“Not!”
“Hey, don’t forget I helped you avoid that fate worse than death that you so feared.”
I frowned. “What fate was that?”
“Sisters... sisters... there were never such devoted sisters—”
Sisters... mothers...
“Get in the truck! We have to go. Madeleine’s out there, and Dad’s only protection is Bella and maybe her Balis.”
I didn’t have to repeat myself. Dutch leaped back into the driver’s seat, tossed me his cell phone, and cranked up the engine. “Call Lila. See if anyone has Madeleine yet.”
My call lasted less than ten seconds. No one had found Deedee’s mommy dearest yet.
I turned to Dutch. “Hurry.”
He slanted me a look that gave me no comfort. “Pray,” he said.
I did.
I’d never been so thankful for Wilmont’s tiny size. We reached the manse in less than seven and a half minutes. From the street nothing looked any different than when I’d left that morning. But I knew looks could be deceiving. Who would ever think women as lovely as Deedee and her Grace Kelly, princess of Monaco, look-alike mother were so vile? That Stewart Marshall’s gentlemanly exterior hid a baby killer?
Dutch barely had a chance to put on the brakes before I yanked open the passenger’s-side door and bailed. I ran up the front steps and into the house.
“Dad? Bella? Are you guys here—”
“Hello, Haley dear.” Madeleine held a small black gun in her elegant hand. She waved the pistol at me, and the light caught intricate mother-of-pearl inlay on its sides. “Please join your father and Bella on the couch. We were just having ourselves a pleasant little chat.”
I held my breath and stepped forward. I listened but heard no steps behind me. I hoped Dutch didn’t just barge in like I had. He was our only hope.
As is often the case, I chose to go for the dumb effect. “That’s a beautiful antique. Are you a collector?”
Madeleine’s laugh rang out soft and musical. “I suppose I am, in a way. But I don’t collect firearms. This was just a gift. From one of my former husbands.”
“Oh, I get it,” I said. “You collect spouses. Question is, what do you do with them?”
She shrugged. “Some I divorce. Others die on me. It’s been a sad, sad life, you understand.”
“But their bucks help ease the sadness.”
Her nostrils flared, and her eyes narrowed. “That wasn’t a nice thing to say.”
“How nice is it to point that thing at me? And in my own house.”
“How nice was it to go down to Portland and start digging in my daughter’s and my business?”
I glanced at Dad. The hurt and fear in his eyes clamped a vise on my heart. “Oh, let’s just call it a future stepdaughter’s curiosity. I do have my dad’s interests at heart.”
“Isn’t that interesting?” Her smile was nasty. “That’s just what I told Deanna. Like any good daughter, your will leaves all your belongings to Hale, doesn’t it?”
And just like that everything clicked into place—at least, everything about her incomprehensible attraction to a quiet, serious, anything-but-wealthy small-town pastor with little in the bank.
I dropped into the rocker. Bella moved her sneakered toe a fraction of an inch to touch my foot. I met her gaze, and the love I saw there warmed every corner of my heart.
“Hey there, Bella. How’re the Balis?”
“My babies are fine, even though their mama turned out to be a lousy substitute for Jessica Fletcher, as you can see.”
“Hush there.” I reached out and took her hand. “I’m just sorry I dragged you into all this. It isn’t your fight.” I turned to Madeleine. “It was always about me, wasn’t it?”
“Not you personally. It’s just that lovely inheritance of yours that’s too good to pass up.”
“Oh, so I’m to believe that getting rid of me isn’t personal.”
“I’m so glad you understand.” She walked to Dad’s side. “Now, Hale dear. You understand I have plans for Haley. And then you and I are going to hurry up our wedding date. There’s no reason to wait, like you said in church that Sunday.”
Dad barely reacted. He blinked and tightened his lips.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the passing of a shadow on the other side of the front window. Could it be Dutch? Lila and her Smurfs? I prayed and watched Madeleine’s every move.
I wasn’t going down easy.
“If you look in my handbag,” Madeleine said, “you’ll find an airline ticket, Haley. You have two choices. One, you sign an affidavit gifting your wealth to your father and take a long, long vacation in Argentina. A vacation that’ll last the rest of your natural life, you understand. And you’re so young, with such a long life ahead of you yet.”
I shook my head. “You can’t—”
“Ah-ah-ah...” Madeleine said. “If you balk at life in South America, then you can choose option two. You and I can take a short drive up to Deanna’s home. All sorts of nasty accidents can happen on those sharp cliff edges. Which, of course, would shorten that life of yours considerably.”
She turned to Dad. “And Hale? If you love your daughter as much as you say you do, I’m sure you don’t want her to take that second option, right?”
Dad gave one single, hard shake of his head, his eyes fixed on me.
Madeleine smiled. “I’m sorry to say, Haley won’t be coming back to Wilmont in either case. Oh, yes. Haley, dear. If you take option two, then your father will become despondent over his loss. He’ll be unable to go on without his beloved daughter, and leave a new will when he passes too. So what’s it going to be? A flight to Argentina or a drive to Deedee’s estate?”
I caught my breath, set the fear, the horror aside. She’d said it twice. A drive to Deedee’s estate. Did that mean that Madeleine didn’t know?
“Does Deedee expect my unwilling company?” I asked.
“No, but my daughter knows what to do. She’s a quick learner, and she’s done very well for herself.”
“So her marriage to Stewart is the culmination of Deedee’s education.”
“Yes, dear, in a way it is. Now if she does as she’s been taught, she’ll be set for life.”
“And does that teaching include Stewart’s imminent disappearance?”
“I don’t think he’ll disappear. He’ll just experience a... change of circumstances.”
She didn’t have a clue. “So tell me. How did Deedee land such a great catch?”
“Have you seen my daughter? She’s beautiful.”
“Hmm... but I’m sure Stewart has known other beauties.”
“Ah... but Deedee’s smarter than the rest. She knows how to make sure a man’s secrets stay secret.”
Dumb time again. “Oh, you mean the abortion business.”
Madeleine stiffened and stared at me.
I averted my gaze and saw the matching looks of revulsion burst out on Dad’s and Bella’s faces. Again that shadowy motion showed through the window at their backs. I prayed some more.
Deedee’s proud mama stepped closer to me. “What are you trying to say, Haley?”
To get that gun farther from Dad and Bella, I stood. “Oh, that it must not have been too hard for Deedee to get Stewart to sign on the dotted line. Not if she threatened to blurt out to the world all about his butcher sideline.”
“Well, that did help.”
Hmm... not exactly what I’d expected. “That helped, huh? What other tool did she use to tighten the screws on the guy?”
“There’s no need to burden yourself with our business, dear. Besides, it’s time to make your choice. Smart girls can save their skins. Especially when they know when to keep their mouths shut. Among other things.”
Again that kaleidoscope in my brain began to click images, phrases, thoughts, and memories in rapid-fire, random bursts. A dark cloud descended, and a feeling of dread filled my gut, my throat.
Oh, Dutch! Where are you?
More to the point, where was Midas? No matter how friendly my pooch, I doubt even he would put up with the threat I faced.
The threats KC had faced.
Poor child.
I stepped closer to Madeleine. “She was going to tell, wasn’t she?”
She wouldn’t meet my gaze. “What are you talking about?”
“KC. She was going to talk, and you couldn’t let her. She could tear down this new life Deedee had made for herself. And you wouldn’t stand for it. So you gave her the Coumadin.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, Madeleine. That’s where you’re wrong. It might have taken me longer than I like to get it, but
I get it now.” I blew out a hard sigh. “KC was going to tell, not only about Stewart’s late-term abortions but about Stewart’s even dirtier little secret.”
Madeleine’s hands began to shake. She waved the gun, and her nicey-nice expression disappeared. “Get going, Haley. I guess you’ve made your decision. Get in the car—now.”
“Sure, Madeleine. I’ll get in my car. And I’ll drive us to the Marshall mansion. I’ll bet there are still a bunch of cops there, gathering evidence. I’m sure they’ll be happy to trade your pretty little gun for a pair of handcuffs that match Deedee’s.”
She laughed nervously. “So you think your scare tactics will get you out of this. Forget it. You should have stuck with your decorating schemes. Let’s go. Deedee is waiting.”
“Deedee’s cooling her heels at the Wilmont jail.” When she shook her head, I continued. “And so’s Stewart. As far as I can see, your only hope to avoid a death sentence is to testify against your son-in-law. The authorities have a real thing for getting child molesters turned killers.”
Dad and Bella gasped.
I had enough of a head of steam that I just went on, aimed straight at the most disgusting conclusion. “Especially one who aborted his own child to keep the fourteen-year-old he impregnated from blowing the lid on his games.”
Bali H’ai leaped in through the open window to my side. “Meeeeeeoow!”
Madeleine whirled.
Behind me the front door swung in.
Before me Madeleine spun back around, shook. My high kick hit its target. She dropped the gun.
Dutch walked around me, picked it up, and pointed it at her. It all took five seconds or less.
Moments later Lila and her giant Smurfs broke the stunned silence. I collapsed into the rocker, tears pouring down my face. Midas bounded in the open door and stuck his head under my hand. I gave him an automatic scratch.
I’d figured it out.
I knew where KC’s baby was.
And I felt worse than I had when I didn’t know.
Dutch came to my side, knelt, wrapped his arms around me, and let me weep, let me grieve. Three dead children, two of them victims of crime.
The Smurfs did their thing.