by S. E. Babin
Emma most certainly did not.
“And look a little like you except with the fashion sense of a rebellious teenager?”
I pushed him out of the way and peeked out. The same woman I’d seen from the back at the funeral home was standing there, a sour expression on her pretty, sharp face. I frowned. It was Candy Harper. I guess I did look like her in a way, but I hoped I didn’t wear an expression like that all the time.
North Carolina had its share of warm summers but now the air was cooling down a lot faster. So why she was wearing a tank top and a miniskirt when she didn’t have to was beyond me. Granted, her boots were high enough to make up for some of it, but instead of making her look warm, she looked like an extra in a crime movie set on the streets of New York. I almost laughed because I’d been forced to do the same thing in the time I’d posed as her, but I remembered that Candy was a) bad and b) more prone to try to kill me than the average person would be.
I was still beginning to hope, though, that maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad when the passenger door opened and a bear of a man stepped out. I’d met this bear just a few days ago when I’d brazenly showed up to Chase’s work. Thank goodness I hadn’t tried to pretend I was Candy. I might not have made it out of there alive.
“Oh gracious,” I squeaked as I stepped away from the window. I began to wave my hands around frantically. “What are we going to do?”
Seth took a look out the window. “Do you know that guy?”
I nodded. “He’s sleeping with Candy and he’s the guy Chase accused her of running drugs with.”
Seth’s nose flared. “We need to hide.” He grabbed my hand again and ran through the back of the house, but the front door opened sooner than we expected so he took a quick turn and shoved me inside of an open room. He followed and quietly clicked the door closed.
With a finger to his mouth, he stepped away from the door.
We were in what appeared to be an office. I shut my eyes in annoyance. Of all the places likely to be searched during an illicit home visit, an office would be at the top. I gestured wildly at Seth, but he rolled his eyes and crouched down by the door. He leaned against it, but there was no need. Candy and Butch crashed through the house like two angry elephants. We could hear everything they were saying.
Perhaps when all was said and done, I’d encourage Emma to get better insulation in her house, but right now it was benefitting both of us to hear what was going on.
“What are we looking for again?” asked Butch.
“Chase sent me some stupid emails a few weeks ago. I couldn’t get access while I was here. He had his computer locked the whole time and no matter how many times I asked he wouldn’t give his password up.”
“Some people are private about that stuff,” Butch said.
I could just hear the eye roll Candy was no doubt giving Butch.
My lips twitched in spite of myself.
“He ain’t got nothing to hide. I was the best thing that ever happened to him.”
Anger settled deep in my belly.
“I don’t think that’s quite true,” said Butch.
Seconds later both of them started to laugh as if the death of someone’s son and brother was a hilarious thing.
I buried my head in my hands and tugged on my hair to keep from screaming. How in the world had she done it? How had she managed to poison him that way with no one finding out? Seth said monkshood was bitter. Was it masked somehow?
I racked my brain trying to think of something only to remember that Chase had a brandy habit. A nightly one at minimum. Could a liquor that potent mask the taste? I wasn’t a big drinker, but when I did have the occasional sip of a spirit, it burned all the way down and didn’t taste like much of anything to me because I was too busy coughing and trying to keep it down.
Maybe that’s what it was. I gestured for Seth to lean over so I could whisper in his ear.
“Would liquor disguise the taste of poison?”
A thoughtful look stole across his face. “Maybe. It depends on the amount.”
“Maybe she slipped him a little bit at a time.”
He nodded. “That’s exactly what she did, otherwise all of the symptoms would have hit him at once.”
The sound of things crashing to the ground gave him pause. When it quieted, he continued in an even lower whisper. “Candy knew about his heart condition. She probably slipped him a little each night until his heart gave out. It was just enough to send it over the edge.”
His expression darkened. “Cruel and calculated.” He glanced over to the window. “Do you think we can get out of here?”
I shrugged. “Maybe, but have you ever tried to open a window in an old house, especially if it doesn’t get opened often?”
Seth gave me a funny look.
My parents lived in an older home and trying to open a window there usually required a crowbar and the patience of a saint. My sister had been a bit of a rebel in her day and I could remember several times the sound of an old screeching window giving her away. She’d tried almost everyone in the house and almost every time the same thing happened. Eventually, she figured out the window in the kitchen was best, but Mom was nothing if not observant and she eventually realized the little white elephant figurine sitting in the kitchen window moved around a lot.
I’ll never forget the night Mom made me wait up with her while she sprung her trap. I cringed of embarrassment for Shayna every time I thought about it. Mom waited on the couch with a baseball bat and a flashlight until Shayna got in and then proceeded to chase her around the house yelling at her in a really low and manly voice. Shayna thought the house was being robbed and she was about to die. Mom whacked the bat on every available surface and destroyed half the knick-knacks in the downstairs area just to give her a good scare.
Dad came down in his boxers, carrying a shotgun, and I sat on the couch screaming my head off.
I’d never seen my mother go as crazy as she had that night, and I’d never seen her get that crazy again.
Shayna never snuck out again.
Dad banned Mom from ever holding a baseball bat again.
And all of us were picking glass out of our bare feet from the shattered remnants of knick-knacks for the next six months.
I let out a burbled laugh and promptly clapped my hands over my mouth. The memory was horrifying, but now it was also very, very funny. No one ever brought it up, though, unless Shayna did. My sister always claimed that Mom was responsible for the amount of therapy she had to go through as an adult. I was pretty sure she was joking. Maybe.
“Don’t use the window,” I whispered once I had tamped down on my amusement. “It’s probably either painted shut or just stuck. It will make too much noise.”
Seth looked aggravated. “Then how are we going to get out of here?”
The door to the office slammed open and crashed against the wall.
Candy Harper stood in the doorway with a gun leveled right at my chest. Beside her stood Butch, another weapon pointed at Seth.
“Well,” she said, her voice a lot breathier than I expected. “I’d heard there was another Candy Harper around these days.” She eyed me up and down. “Can’t say I’m impressed.”
13
We were ushered out of the room and into the kitchen area. I noticed Seth discreetly check his watch.
Candy snorted when she saw him. “Emma won’t be home for a while. I made sure there was a... delay.”
The way she said it made my skin crawl. I was already scared out of my wits. The only gun I ever had pointed at me was from a bad actor wearing an eyepatch during the first six months of my acting career. It didn’t even have blanks in it. The sound was dubbed in later and was off a beat, so it looked like I was jerking two seconds after I was shot instead of immediately. Every night that movie made it into my prayers as I repeatedly asked whoever was listening up there to please make sure it never saw the light of day.
I had to say having the real thing point
ed at me was a whole lot worse. I could tell it was real metal. Had it been used? My mind whirled with the scenarios of the gun being used, but the slight shake in Candy’s hands made me wonder if she had the guts to pull the trigger.
How in the world had Chase fallen for her?
“How are you going to explain this?” I asked, my voice raspy with fear.
Candy shrugged. “No one knows I’m here. I don’t have to explain anything. Marshall might be a small town, but it isn’t immune to crime.”
“Double homicide?” The doubt in Seth’s voice had to sting her. “Doubtful something like that is par for the course around here.”
Candy stared hard at him. “You look familiar.”
He shrugged. “I’ve been told I have a familiar face.”
Butch spoke up. “He looks like that dude from that soap opera. My mom likes to watch it.”
Candy sneered. “Only someone who lives with their mom would know that.”
A hurt look crossed Butch’s face. “I told you I have to save up money.”
“If this deal goes through, we’re going to have all the money we’ll ever need. I need that laptop to transfer that money out of Chase’s account.”
So that was the money everyone was wondering about. Had Candy put it there to hold for someone else?
He shook his head. “If we kill them, too much heat is going to come our way.”
Candy looked at him then. “No one knows we’re here, right?”
Butch had the grace to look sheepish. “I might have told one or two guys.”
The gun in her hand faltered. “Why would you do that?”
“They were getting antsy. I had to tell them something!”
“A week,” she said, her voice a deep growl. “I told you to tell them I’d be here in a week. The only reason I’m here now is because of her!” She shoved the barrel of the gun in my direction. “Sniffing around and getting her nose into my business.”
My gaze narrowed. “Sniffing around?” I inquired. “Who told you that?”
She tilted her head. “Butch here. But I got curious, so I talked to Abigail.” A hard smile flickered across her mouth. “Something about the whole thing smelled fishy. Abigail was a little harder to convince to talk.”
“Did you hurt her?”
Candy laughed. “Abigail is fine. Get into the kitchen,” she said. What was her definition of fine? I swallowed hard and slowly walked into the kitchen. I gave Seth a long look and he stared at me, hard. He was trying to tell me something, but I wasn’t sure what. I blinked at him and shook my head once. Whatever it was, I couldn’t read eye language. When I was in the kitchen and was just about to turn around, a loud male shout rang out. Seth had managed to get one up on Butch and bring him to the floor. Candy was just about to raise the gun when I hip checked her from the side. She stumbled, the gun went off, and Seth raced to the door.
With a screech, Candy chased after him but went down when Butch grabbed her leg.
“We have to get out of here! Don’t worry about him.”
“Don’t worry?” she screeched. “Don’t worry?! He can identify both of us!”
“Nothing happened,” he said.
Candy looked disgusted. She stood, brushing off her pants, and glanced at me. I was still too terrified to move, and I was also stunned that Seth had left me here.
Alone.
With two gun-wielding psychopaths.
What in the world was I going to do?
14
Butch, though on Candy’s side, didn’t seem as bad or as keen for me to take a dirt nap as she was. She snapped at him to tie my hands behind my back and he did, but he had no idea that I’d been going fishing with my father since I was ten years old. I was a knot connoisseur. A knot master. A knot Jedi.
Within just a few minutes I was able to loosen them enough to easily slip out. I held the rope together, though, until I could figure out what to do. I sat on the kitchen floor, right below the window. The Monkshood rested right above my head, a pretty, yet glaring testament to a devious crime.
“Why?” I asked her when she’d finally fell silent from berating Butch for letting Seth go.
“Why what?” she snapped. She’d kicked off the high-heeled boots finally. Apparently, crime can give you aching feet.
“Chase? Why would you do that to him?”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you know how hard it is to find someone to help you with this stuff? He was sweet, gullible, easy to please...all of the things I needed. Then he started asking questions.”
“Do you think he would have if you’d stayed faithful?” Chase had only found out when he stumbled upon Candy and Butch at work. The rest must have come from digging around.
Her face went bone white with rage. She held the gun up, but Butch, giving me a warning look gently pressed her hand down. “She’s just trying to goad you. We need to figure this out and get out of here. Emma won’t be gone that much longer.”
Candy let out a strangled noise and turned to pace back and forth. “You never should have let Seth go. He’s probably on his way to the police.”
Butch went up to the front door and pulled the curtain aside. “We’re at least a fifteen-minute drive from the station. He doesn’t have his car. He would have had to walk.” He shook his head. “No, he’s not even a mile or two down the road yet. Stop worrying.” He cast a quick glance back at me. “We should just leave her here.”
“Ever heard of a cell phone?” She tsked in disgust. “And what do you think we should do when we make a run for it? Run for the rest of our lives?”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that even if I didn’t make it out of here, Seth knew I’d emailed myself Chase’s accusations. She was going to get busted one way or another. I was intelligent enough not to mention that. One thing I did possess was a healthy sense of self-preservation.
Butch turned around only for the door to burst open. Before he could turn around, Seth raised a massive shovel and coldcocked him right in the head with it. He went down like a sack of stones.
Before I could even think about it, I let the ropes fall away from my hands, jumped up, and grabbed the glass of monkshood. Belatedly remembering what Seth had said, I scooped the flowers out of the jar, held them by the roots, and tossed the mason jar right at her face. As soon as she tried to catch the jar, it shattered against her forehead, and I threw the flowers right afterward. She blindly grabbed for those, too, and managed to catch them as she went down screaming.
I hissed in pain as redness formed where my fingers had touched the roots of the monkshood. I took a few steps only to catch Seth’s look of horror as he rushed toward me.
Sirens rang in the distance.
“We need to get you to the bathroom,” Seth said, his tone low and urgent as he looked at my hands.
“I don’t have to go,” I said, noting with some distress that my voice didn’t sound quite right.
A huff of laughter escaped him as he half dragged-half tugged me down the hall.
“What about them?”
He shook his head. “The police are already in the driveway. I took both of their guns. Stop talking.”
Pain roiled in my stomach, so I stopped talking. Seth scooped me up in his arms and ran me into the restroom. Setting me carefully onto my knees, he tipped my mouth open.
“Kitty, listen to me. I need you to swallow.”
“Wha-?”
Sweet liquid slid down my throat gagging me. Seth shut my mouth. I stared at him wild-eyed and swallowed. Seth slid down on the floor beside me, still holding on to me. His eyes were wide.
“Poison?” I said as I plunked my head down on the toilet seat, belatedly realizing I was not even wondering when the last time it had been cleaned. This, more than the funny feeling in my body, told me not all was right in my world. A clean toilet was a sign of godliness, my mother would say. Not because she was religious or anything. She just had a real thing for clean toilets. Thus, a good portion of my childhood and te
enage years was spent recleaning my toilet when the first time failed to pass her white glove inspection. She was a woman who also believed chores were good for the spirit.
Seth sighed in response.
“Great,” I groaned. “Am I going to die?”
He grasped my right hand and held it. “Probably not.”
A harsh laugh burbled from my lips.
“Why did you touch them?” he asked. His voice was sad and plaintive.
I shook my head and grimaced at the pain. “In the moment, Seth. I didn’t think about it.”
He fell silent for a moment. “It takes about ten minutes for the syrup to work.”
“Where in the world did you get Ipecac?” That had to be what it was. “And why are you carrying it in your pocket?”
“My mother makes me carry it around. I grabbed it out of my truck before sneaking back in. I thought we could use the flowers somehow, but you beat me to it. A little bit aggressively, I might add.”
A snort giggle escaped me.
“She tells me these stories,” he began and with his other hand played with the curls in my hair. “About how witches used monkshood in ancient times to induce hallucinations and pretend that they were flying. Although...when told by her, the witches were actually flying. Though I think she meant astral projection. She told me stories of how the natives used to poison their arrowheads with it and how some midwives use it to calm pregnant women down during labor.”
The feel of his hands in my hair was hypnotic and even when the front door crashed in and footsteps thundered through the house, it didn’t startle me. This was worrisome for several reasons, one being that I was feeling awfully sleepy.
“Your blood pressure is probably dropping,” Seth said helpfully. “I told them where we would be. The EMT’s will be here in a second.” He gripped my fingers a little tighter and continued. “But she also told me other stories about rosemary and how if you grew it by your garden gate it would protect your home. She would make up lavender and sandalwood spray concoctions for me because I always had trouble sleeping. Every night when she’d come in the room, she’d spray it on my pillow and in the air and wish me peaceful dreams.”