Overkilt

by Kaitlyn Dunnett

  “I know who you are.” His words came out in a threatening rumble. “You’re that dancer.”

  He flung the word at her like an accusation, his tone of voice calling up the image of a cheap dive, a scanty costume, and a pole. Liss hadn’t danced professionally for ten years, but when she had earned her living that way, it had been as part of a troupe that put on a show called Strathspey. By way of explanation, Liss always told people to think Riverdance, only Scottish. There had been nothing sleazy, salacious, or sinful about their performances.

  Although she knew it would be a waste of time to try to reason with a man like Hadley Spinner, Liss couldn’t stop herself from blurting out a question: “What’s wrong with dancing?”

  “It inflames the passions. Women who dance seduce men by their obscene movements.”

  He didn’t stop there. Liss felt her face blanch, then flame when he launched into a vitriolic rant that grew louder and more frightening with every insult he flung at her. She hunched her shoulders under the force of his verbal attack. Her heart pounded so loudly that she could barely make out the crude, vicious words. She was grateful for that, and even more grateful that she still stood in the shelter of her car door. She wanted more than anything to hop back inside, start the engine, and flee, but she found to her horror that she could neither move nor tear her gaze away from Spinner’s hate-filled eyes. That they were so dark a brown as to appear black made them all the more frightening.

  There was something seriously wrong with this man. To say he had no respect or regard for women was the least of it. Even Sherri, who was armed, had taken a step away from him. The Pilgrims, male and female, stood still as statues, as if mesmerized by his performance . . . or terrified that he would turn on them next.

  An angry bellow broke the spell. Liss blinked, and when she opened her eyes again it was to see her husband going for Spinner’s throat.

  For a moment, no one else moved.

  “Dan, stop!” Liss shouted, running toward the fray. She had never seen him so out of control. “You’ll kill him!”

  “I think that’s the idea.” Sherri’s voice was grim as she caught hold of Dan’s right arm and hauled at it.

  Liss grabbed the left one. She kept shouting Dan’s name, but she wasn’t getting through to him. In a desperate bid for his attention, she delivered a swift kick to his leg, but it had no effect. He did not loosen his grip.

  Spinner’s arms flailed. His eyes bugged out. To judge by the color of his face, he was losing his battle to suck in air. The other, older Pilgrim finally intervened, but even his greater strength was not sufficient to pry Dan’s hands away from Spinner’s throat.

  Liss still had a grip on her husband’s arm, tugging for all she was worth. Since he’d stripped down to a T-shirt to work on the defaced doors, there was bare skin level with her face. Unable to think of anything else to do, desperate to stop him before it was too late, she bit down as hard as she could—hard enough to draw blood and viciously enough to penetrate the blind rage that was driving him to strangle Hadley Spinner.

  A cry of despair issued from Dan’s throat as he flung the older man away from him. Liss and Sherri went flying, too, although they both managed to stay on their feet. The other Pilgrim beat a rapid retreat, ignoring his fallen leader.

  Fists once again clenched at his sides, Dan backed away. Guilt and disbelief mingled in his expression. Abruptly, he turned and ran, stopping only when he reached his truck. He leaned against the hood of the cab and buried his head in his arms, shoulders shaking.

  Liss wiped her mouth on her sleeve, but the metallic taste of blood lingered, making her stomach twist into knots. She could only imagine what Dan was feeling. He had to be furious at himself, and disgusted by what he had done in the heat of anger. Spinner was still red in the face, gasping and choking.

  With hesitant steps, Mistress Spinner came forward to kneel beside her husband and inspect the damage to his throat. “He will recover,” she said in an emotionless monotone. “You had best go now.”

  If looks could kill, Spinner’s glare would have struck Dan dead on the spot. It was probably a good thing he had not yet regained his ability to speak.

  When Sherri and Liss reached the parked vehicles, Sherri held out a hand. “Give me your keys. I’ll drive your car back. You drive Dan’s truck. He’s in no condition to get behind the wheel.”

  “And I am?”

  Sherri shot her a look. Liss relinquished her keys.

  The ride home was accomplished in total silence. Liss’s thoughts were jumbled. She didn’t know what to say. When they were back in their own driveway, she sent a wary glance Dan’s way. Even after she turned off the ignition, he continued to stare straight ahead, refusing to look at her.

  “You okay?”

  “Would you be? Christ, Liss, I almost killed him.”

  “But you didn’t. He’s okay.”

  Dan rubbed his arm, still with his eyes averted. “Thanks to you.”

  Liss watched him with anxious eyes. What had happened at Pilgrim Farm had scared her. The calm, considerate Dan Ruskin she knew did not lose control. She could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times she’d seen him angry, and on none of those occasions had he resorted to physical violence.

  “Something just snapped,” he said in a low, choked voice. “I was already furious about the vandalism, but when he started insulting you, it got to the point where I couldn’t stand to hear one more venomous word come out of his mouth. I had to make him shut up.”

  He stared at the hands resting on his knees, as if he couldn’t believe he’d wrapped them around another human being’s throat and nearly choked the life out of him.

  “You wanted to throttle him,” Liss said. “It’s not like you were trying to kill him.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.”

  Liss opened her mouth, then closed it again. Spinner’s rant against dancers, and against her in particular, had rapidly turned obscene. There had been no indication that he’d intended to stop spewing crude insults. Would he have attacked her with more than words if Dan hadn’t gone after him first? There was no way to tell, but Liss was certain of one thing. If Spinner had been spouting vicious slanders against Dan, she could easily imagine herself reacting to the abuse in exactly the same way he had. The mental picture of her hands around Spinner’s neck was at the same time deeply satisfying and extremely disturbing.

  * * *

  Sherri pulled into the driveway behind Dan’s truck just as Liss and Dan began to climb the steps to the porch. In the village, front doors were used, unless there was a more convenient side entrance off a parking area. All three of them went inside together. They were greeted at the door by Lumpkin and Glenora, who seemed to know that their humans were in need of soothing. As soon as Liss and Dan were seated side by side on the sofa, one cat appropriated each lap. Sherri took the chair opposite and appeared to be gathering her thoughts.

  “How much trouble am I in?” Dan asked.

  “Are you going to arrest him?” Liss spoke at the same time.

  Sherri glowered at them both. “I can’t take you two anywhere, can I? Here’s the thing. I just witnessed an altercation serious enough that I’m going to have to file an incident report with the district attorney.”

  Liss felt her stomach drop to her toes. She wanted this to be a bad dream, but the claws Lumpkin was rhythmically sinking into her thigh made it clear that everything was all too real.

  “What happens then?” Dan’s face was ashen.

  Liss reached out to grasp his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze.

  “I can have a private word with the D.A. to more fully explain the circumstances, but it will be up to her to decide whether or not to issue a warrant for your arrest.”

  “What do you think she’ll do?” Liss asked.

  Sherri hesitated, then shrugged. “No guarantees, but once I repeat some of what Spinner said, and explain to her what’s been going on with him, she’ll probab
ly be inclined to sympathize with you. She might still arrest you for something,” she warned them, “but at least it won’t be attempted murder.”

  “What about Spinner? Can he press charges if the D.A. doesn’t?”

  “Of course he can.” She sounded annoyed. “Don’t you think he has a case? He can certainly make one for assault, possibly even attempted murder, and there’s no way you can deny what happened. The attack was witnessed by the entire New Age Pilgrim community and by the chief of police. What the hell were you thinking to go after him like that?”

  “I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to stop the filth coming out of his mouth.”

  “It would have been smarter to walk away, but what’s done is done and, amazingly, Spinner wasn’t much damaged. The man has a neck like an ox.” Sherri leaned toward them and looked Dan straight in the eye. “I want your promise that you’ll stay far away from Spinner, his followers, and Pilgrim Farm. When they demonstrate on Saturday, you don’t leave this house. Understood?”

  Thunderclouds gathered in Dan’s expression, but he nodded.

  “I think I want to hear that promise out loud.”

  He raked the fingers of his right hand through hair that was still disheveled from the fight with Spinner. At his hesitation, Liss pinched his thigh. “Tell the nice lady what she wants to hear . . . and mean it.”

  “I’ll stay out of their way.”

  “Good. I’ve never heard that Spinner was litigious, but if he decides to sue, he could certainly win a civil case. Don’t give him any provocation.”

  Liss bit back a groan. If Spinner sued for damages, he could bankrupt them.

  “I’ll keep you in the loop,” Sherri promised as she stood. “Meanwhile, the best thing you two can do is to go on as usual and stay out of trouble. Oh, and take care of that bite on your arm. Puncture wounds can be nasty.”

  When she’d gone, Liss sent her husband a bleak look. “This is not going to end well.”

  “Will you bake me a cake with a file in it when I’m in prison?”

  “That’s not funny, Dan.” She could feel tears welling up in her eyes and turned away before he could see them. The cats fled.

  Behind her, she heard a deep sigh. “I know it’s not.” His hands gently cupped her shoulders, turning her until her cheek was nestled against his collarbone. “No matter what happens, we’ll deal with it. We’ll get through it. We’ll survive.” He gave a wry chuckle. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and someone will push that pompous jackass off a cliff before he has a chance to bring charges against me.”

  * * *

  Liss didn’t return to work that afternoon. It was the next day before she saw her aunt again, at which time she recounted the whole sordid story of their encounter with Hadley Spinner.

  “I’m a little surprised you haven’t already heard all the details,” she said when she’d finished. “The Moosetookalook grapevine is usually more efficient.”

  “The folks out at Pilgrim Farm keep themselves to themselves,” Margaret reminded her.

  “I guess I should be grateful for small favors.”

  Liss kept her hands busy while they talked, packing orders to be shipped out later in the day. Spinner’s campaign didn’t seem to be affecting the mail-order end of the business. In fact, the number of purchases made through the Emporium’s Web site was up slightly from the same time the previous year.

  “And for the big one, too,” Margaret said.

  “Big favor? What big favor?” Liss affixed a label and added the box, which contained a stuffed Loch Ness monster, to the take-to-the-post-office pile.

  “If Spinner was going to take legal action, he’d have done it already. He’s never been one to waste time.” Beside her at the worktable, Margaret wound more bubble wrap around the highly breakable bisque figurine of a Scottish dancer.

  Liss reached for the next packing slip. “Maybe he’s saving that piece of nastiness for a time when it will have more impact.”

  Margaret shook her head, setting light gray locks bouncing. “Think about it, Liss. If he sues, he opens the New Age Pilgrims up to public scrutiny. You can’t imagine that he wants a lot of attention focused on Pilgrim Farm. Not the way his people live. It’s one thing to stage this protest and mouth off about the sins of others but quite another to have a magnifying glass focused on your own lifestyle.”

  Liss hoped her aunt was right, but she didn’t trust Spinner to use common sense. He didn’t seem quite sane to her and she already knew he was capable of holding a grudge. Why would he pass up an opportunity for revenge . . . unless he had something more personal in mind? A shudder passed through her at the thought.

  When the landline in the shop rang, Liss was glad of an excuse to escape the atmosphere of doom and gloom in the stockroom. She answered the phone with a bright and cheery “Good morning. Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium. How may I help you?”

  “You can correct your damned Web site,” said an annoyed female voice.

  Liss held the receiver away from her ear and stared at it for a moment before she replied. “What on earth are you talking about?”

  “Your phone number. It’s wrong on your Web site.”

  Fingers busy, Liss had already called up the URL in question and scrolled down to the contact information. “I’m looking at it now.” She was careful to keep her voice pleasant. “The phone number is correct.”

  “Five-oh-three-three?”

  “That’s right. Those are the last four digits of the number.”

  “Well, it’s wrong somewhere.” The woman sounded huffy. “I’m seven-oh-three-three and I’ve been getting calls for you all week and I am sick to death of being annoyed by morons.”

  With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Liss understood what must have happened. “These calls—” She had to clear her throat before she could continue. “I’m guessing they’re not friendly.”

  “Not hardly. A couple of them yelled at me for being opposed to family values and I won’t even repeat some of the things that one caller said.”

  “I am so sorry. I think they must have found the number on a flyer that was handed out at Halloween. I didn’t have anything to do with it, but—”

  “I don’t care where their information came from, I just want these calls to stop. If they don’t, I’ll keep on doing what I did yesterday.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Well, I’d had enough, hadn’t I? What do I care if one of the callers said she wanted to show support by placing an order?” Now the woman sounded snide, almost spiteful. “If she was too dumb to call the right number and too stubborn to believe me when I told her she had the wrong person, she deserved to be roundly cussed out for her stupidity.” With a sound suspiciously like a snarl, she disconnected.

  Numb, Liss cradled the receiver. Just what she needed—a new disaster in public relations. She could appreciate how annoying it must have been to get such nasty phone calls simply because her number and the Emporium’s differed by one digit, but had it really been necessary to add to the damage Spinner’s flyer had done?

  Liss hadn’t recognized her caller’s voice, but the local phone number told her that the irate woman lived in the immediate area. Liss probably knew her, at least in passing. The calls she’d received must have come from local people as well. That was the only way they’d have gotten hold of one of Spinner’s flyers with the incorrect number . . . unless he’d posted it online. The very thought triggered a pounding headache.

  Margaret chose that moment to emerge from the stockroom. She took one look at Liss’s face and demanded to know why she’d gone pale.

  Recounting the details of the phone conversation and her thoughts on the matter proved to be good therapy. Margaret nodded sagely and assured her that the customer who’d wanted to order something was obviously a good person who would figure out how to contact the Emporium and follow through. Liss tried hard to believe her.

  “I’d better go online and do damage control. I can add a note to ou
r Web site to explain the mix-up.”

  “Good idea. While you do that I’ll go brew a nice soothing cup of tea.” Margaret headed for the stairs to her apartment, knowing full well how poor the selection in Liss’s stockroom was.

  “Anything but chamomile,” Liss called after her.

  She’d posted alerts on the Web site and all the shop’s social media accounts by the time Margaret returned to hand her a plain ceramic mug full of hot liquid. Liss sniffed cautiously at the steaming brew but could not tell what it was.

  Margaret smiled. “Green tea. I decided that under these circumstances a little caffeine couldn’t hurt.”

  Liss appreciated the gesture, although she’d have preferred coffee, and carried the mug to the cozy corner. Margaret followed her, settling into the other comfortable chair. Liss had taken a few sips before she noticed the pensive expression on her aunt’s face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Margaret shrugged. “Nothing anyone can do anything about now.”

  “Something to do with Spinner?” Liss thought that was a safe bet.

  “Sadly, yes. Some years back, when you were on the road with your dance company, I got to know one of the lavender ladies. She was a delightful young woman, but clearly unhappy with the choice she’d made by joining the New Age Pilgrims.”

  Liss frowned at the way Margaret was twisting her hands together. She doubted her aunt was aware of what she was doing, which made the repetitious movement all the more disconcerting to watch.

  “I encouraged her to leave Pilgrim Farm and I thought I’d convinced her to seek refuge in the women’s shelter down to Fallstown, but I underestimated the peer pressure being brought to bear on her by Spinner and his followers. The last time I saw her, she told me it would be a sin to leave her husband.”

  “She was married to another Pilgrim?”

  “They’re all married out there. It’s a requirement. Couples only.”

  “And yet they sleep apart,” Liss murmured, shaking her head. What sense did that make?