The Unworthy Wife

by Rachel Woods

  “I never sent those emails,” said Noelle, covertly trying to glance around the room, scanning for a weapon, anything she could use to get away.

  Matt laughed. “Yeah, I know, you didn’t send them. I sent them to Eamon for you.”

  “You created that fake doctor sexy MILF account on my home computer,” said Noelle, burgeoning anger joining her terror.

  “It was perfect serendipity,” said Matt. “I couldn’t believe it when Kevin asked me to drive him to your house to drop off a book for that slut Sarah. By the way, they screwed on your couch.”

  Noelle glanced at the desk adjacent to the sofa. In addition to several large, heavy-looking books, there was a stapler and a coffee mug used as a pencil holder. The scissors in the mug might be useful, she thought. But how to get to them without getting shot in the back?

  “Anyway, as I was saying,” Matt said. “While Sarah was going down on Kevin, I went into your home office and created the account. So fortuitous! I knew I wanted to create the account from your computer and I thought I’d have to break into your house just like I broke into your garden shed and stole your shovel. Perfect murder weapon, by the way.”

  Noelle pressed her lips together. Everything within her compelled her to lunge at Matt and go for his throat, but she had to be calm. She had to get out of the situation alive if she had any chance of giving Matt’s confession to the police. She hadn’t forgotten about her phone on the bookshelf. The recording app didn’t have a limit, and it was a small comfort, knowing it was taping every one of Matt’s sick, twisted words.

  “I can’t believe you killed Eamon,” said Noelle.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t figure it out,” Matt said. “On second thought, I can believe you didn’t figure it out. Anyway, Eamon got what he deserved because you gave him what he didn’t deserve. You gave him that job because you felt sorry for him. Both of you are from the wrong side of the island, so you wanted to help one of your own, which was wrong because in doing so, you screwed me out of what I deserved.”

  “And you set it up to look like I had killed Eamon.”

  Matt rolled his eyes. “Duh … of course, I set you up. And I know it worked. The cops arrested you. Nothing was said in the Palmchat Gazette, but it was all part of the public record, so I searched the criminal court database using your name and found a record of your bail hearing. And why would you need a bail hearing? Only because you must have been arrested.”

  “Why?” Noelle asked, confused by Matt’s motive. “Why kill Eamon because he got a job you wanted? Did you think you couldn’t get a job somewhere else?”

  “He’s not dead because he was given a job I wanted,” said Matt, teeth clenched. “He’s dead because he got what he didn’t deserve. I should have gotten that job. It’s not right for people to get special favors. People shouldn’t get what they don’t deserve. They shouldn’t benefit from perks and unfair advantages. You should only get what you have worked diligently to attain. Otherwise, it’s ill-gotten.”

  “But, do you really think Eamon deserved to die because he got a job you thought he wasn’t the most qualified for?”

  “When Eamon got the job he didn’t deserve,” said Matt, “I got humiliation I didn’t deserve. Everyone knew the job should have been mine. I got all these sad, apologetic looks. I was mortified. And it was your fault because you were too stupid to give the job to the person who really deserved it!”

  Thunder crashed, shaking the attic as Matt glared at her, his eyes wide and rabid, nostrils flaring, mouth twisted into a tight scowl.

  “Eamon is dead because of your bad decisions!” Matt said, the gun shaking in his trembling hand. “If you had done the right thing and given me the job then Eamon would be alive! Eamon’s blood is on your hands!”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  After banging his fist against the buzzer for what seemed like forever, the main door opened, and Beanie rushed up the stairs to Kevin Cook’s attic apartment. Dripping wet from the downpour he’d dashed through after exiting Caleb Olivier’s station wagon, he slipped on one of the steps. Grabbing the railing, he continued his frantic ascent, eyes trained on the second staircase leading to the landing outside Kevin’s place.

  The disappointed anger he’d felt toward Noelle for her knee-jerk reactionary decisions had dissipated as he sped along the curving roads, praying he wouldn’t have an accident, begging God to let him get to Noelle in time.

  Before that psychotic bastard, Kevin Cook killed her.

  That story Kevin had given her about having proof that the PC-5 had killed Eamon was a trap. There was no such proof. The PC-5 hadn’t ordered Eamon’s death. Kevin Cook had killed Eamon just like he’d killed Ted Chen and was now planning to kill Noelle.

  Why the hell had Noelle believed that son of a bitch?

  Taking the steps two at a time, Beanie reached the alcove of Kevin’s apartment. Staring at the door, he felt his heart slamming. The door was half-opened. His instincts pushed him to rush into the apartment. Logic told him to be smart. He needed to be careful if he was going to get Noelle out of the apartment alive.

  Officer Fields had been out when Stevie called, but the desk sergeant promised to radio Fields and give him the message. Beanie had called Octavia to keep her in the loop. As soon as her cousin Icarus returned to the hotel suite, she promised to send him to Kevin’s apartment. She was also going to keep trying to reach Officer Fields.

  Slipping into the doorway, Beanie knew he couldn’t rely on anyone except himself to save Noelle.

  Glancing around the living room, he searched for signs of struggle or trauma. Continuing down the hall toward the bedrooms, he stopped. What was that noise? Voices? Was someone talking? A man. Kevin Cook? Had to be. Staying close to the wall, Beanie inched closer to the bedrooms …

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  “You’re insane,” said Noelle.

  “Technically, maybe,” said Matt, shrugging. “I was tested as a child after my mother caught me trying to strangle the cat.”

  Horrified, Noelle cut her eyes to the scissors on the desk as desperation flooded her. As much as she wanted to grab her phone with Matt’s recorded confession, Noelle had decided she would leave it behind if she had to. Getting away from Matt was paramount. She would worry about the evidence once she was away from him and safe.

  “They put me on anti-psychotic drugs, and I did well,” said Matt. “Eventually, I was able to do okay without the meds. But then this travesty with Eamon kind of rocked my world. Anyway, enough with my villain’s soliloquy. After all, this is not a mystery novel.”

  Taking a deep breath, Noelle tried to judge the distance from the couch to the desk.

  “Time for you to die, Dr. Bean,” said Matt.

  Noelle cut her gaze to him. “Matt, you don’t have to kill me. I won’t tell anyone what you did. I promise. And, you know, Eamon’s position will have to be filled, and I will give you the job if—”

  “You think I’m stupid, Dr. Bean?” Matt glared at her. “You really think I believe that if I let you go, you won’t tell the cops and you’ll give me the job you should have given me in the first place? I’m crazy, not dumb! Didn’t I tell you that I am the smartest? I’m smarter than Eamon, Kevin, Tina, Sarah, Jimmy and even you, Dr. Bean.”

  “Matt, please—”

  “Shut up! Forget about begging for your life,” he said. “It’s pathetic, and it won’t work. I don’t care that your kids will grow up without a mother, or whatever you think might convince me to let you go.”

  Noelle choked back a sob, thinking of Ethan and Evan.

  “So, here’s what is going to happen, Dr. Bean,” said Matt. “You are going to write a suicide note.”

  “A suicide note?” Noelle’s heart kicked. “I’m not committing suicide.”

  “Well, no, you’re not really going to commit suicide,” said Matt. “I’m going to kill you, but I’m going to shoot you, so it appears you shot yourself. And then the cops will find the suicide note, wri
tten in your own words of how you killed Eamon Taylor, Ted Chen, and Kevin Cook. Don’t worry; I’ll dictate what you need to put in the note.”

  Her mind spinning, Noelle took small breaths, trying to think.

  Matt Delaney was going to kill her if she didn’t think of a way to get away from him. The suicide note might be her chance. Maybe when she was writing the note, she could use the pen to—

  “Get the hell away from my wife!”

  Chapter Fifty

  Noelle screamed.

  Shock, fear, and confusion seized her as she stared at the scene before her.

  With a lunging leap, Beanie grabbed Matt Delaney in a grappling hold and slammed him to the floor. Wrestling on the carpet, Beanie and Matt struggled to trade punches as each of them fought to get the upper hand. Grunting and cursing, they rolled across the floor. When Matt ended up on top of Beanie, trying to choke him with his free hand, Noelle jumped up from the couch. Circling the study, looking for a weapon to help Beanie. Praying her husband wouldn’t be shot, Noelle dashed to the desk and grabbed a massive Webster’s dictionary.

  Turning back to the fray, Noelle gasped.

  Matt still had his hand around Beanie’s throat while her husband tried to push the psychotic intern away from him. Her heart racing wildly, Noelle rushed into the melee, desperate to protect her husband, the father of her children, the man she would love forever.

  Hoisting the dictionary in the air, Noelle brought it down against Matt’s head.

  Roaring in pain, Matt twisted his neck, looking over his shoulder at her. “You fucking bit—”

  “Crazy asshole!” Noelle whacked him across the face, stumbling and tripping over legs as the tome fell from her hands. Unable to keep her balance, Noelle slid across the floor and fell to her hands and knees. She crawled in a circle until she faced Beanie and Matt.

  Her husband was back in control, with his knee in Matt’s chest. Pinning the intern against the floor, Beanie had the gun Matt had planned to kill her with and was slamming the butt of it against Matt’s head, over and over until Matt went limp beneath him.

  “Beanie …” Noelle cried as she lurched to her feet.

  Rising from Matt’s unconscious form, Beanie stumbled to Noelle and wrapped his arms around her.

  “Oh, God, Beanie … “ Noelle wrapped her arms around him, clinging tightly to him. “Oh, thank God, you’re here! You came for me!”

  “It’s okay, Elle … “ Beanie whispered, soothingly, rubbing his hands up and down her back. “I’m here now. I’ll always be here. I’m never leaving.”

  Sobbing, Noelle stared at him. “I’m so sorry, Beanie. I’m sorry I went off alone again! I should have never—”

  “It’s fine, Elle,” Beanie said.

  “I could have been killed,” said Noelle, as the realization hit her hard. “I would never have seen you or the boys again! Why did I—“

  “Elle, you’re okay now. I am here. But you need to tell me what the hell happened?” Beanie placed both hands on her face, staring at her. “What is going on? Why was Matt Delany here? Why—”

  “He killed Eamon Taylor,” Noelle said, crying. “And Ted Chen … and Kevin—”

  Beanie grabbed her hands. “Kevin Cook is dead?”

  Nodding, Noelle said, “It was so awful, he—”

  “It’s okay, babe … “ Beanie pulled her into his arms again. “The cops are coming. Officer Fields is on his way, and Octavia knows—”

  “Beanie, I have to tell you something … “ Noelle pulled away to look up at him. “Matt Delaney admitted everything he did, and I recorded the conversation.”

  “You did?” A tentative smile played at the corner of Beanie’s mouth. “Elle, how?”

  “I used the recording app on my phone,” said Noelle. “Just like you told me to do when we called Sarah.”

  Kissing her forehead, Beanie said, “Look at you being a junior investigative reporter. You ready for a byline a the Palmchat Gazette?”

  Noelle sighed. “No, don’t think I want to—”

  “STUPID BITCH DIE!” Beneath the crashing thunder reverberating throughout the room, the words were like a curse from the deepest, blackest bowels of hell.

  Paralyzed, Noelle tried to break through the fog of confusion and fear clouding her mind as she felt her body flying through the air. Landing on her side, Noelle scrambled to her hands and knees. Before her, Matt Delaney stood in front of Beanie, who was down on his left knee with his right leg extended, trying to get up.

  His arm extended in the air, Matt growled as he slashed a butcher’s knife down toward Beanie.

  “Beanie!” Noelle screamed as the blade sliced against Beanie’s forearm. “No!”

  Beanie swept his extended leg toward Matt’s foot. Stumbling, Matt swung the knife again, slashing Beanie’s shoulder. Grunting in pain, Beanie kicked Matt’s shin. Matt staggered to the side and dropped to his knees. Beanie took advantage and lunged at him.

  Noelle stood and scanned the room for another weapon. Something heavier than the dictionary that had only knocked Matt out temporarily. Something more deadly.

  Glancing at her husband and the psychotic intern, Noelle felt her heart drop. Matt had a death grip on the knife as he held it inches from Beanie’s face. Beanie had his hand on Matt’s wrist, his arm shaking as he tried to keep Matt from slashing him to ribbons.

  Focusing herself, Noelle swept her gaze around the room again.

  Gasping in relief, she stared at the couch. The gun Matt had planned to kill her with lay on the floor near the corner of the couch. With the grunts and groans of Beanie and Matt cutting through the roar of thunder, Noelle dived for the gun. Grabbing the pistol, Noelle rose to her knees and turned toward Beanie and Matt, both of them still wrestling for control of the knife.

  “Get away from him!” Noelle screamed, training the gun on Matt, remembering the lessons she’d learned from her father—how to hold a gun, how to fire a pistol, how to hit her target. “Get back now, or I will shoot you!”

  “Elle, no!” Beanie’s head whipped toward her. “Stay back! Don’t—”

  Matt yanked his wrist from Beanie’s grasp and then stabbed the knife into Beanie’s chest.

  Screaming her horror, Noelle squeezed the trigger.

  Beneath the roll of thunder and the flash of lightning, the gun went off. Once, twice. Over and over, Noelle squeezed the trigger until the last bullet slammed into Matt’s lifeless body.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  Noelle opened the door to the hospital room, stepped inside, and paused.

  Tears pricked her eyes as she stared at the most beautiful sight in the world. The three most precious, most important things to her—Beanie and their boys.

  Quietly closing the door behind her, Noelle tipped to the chair in the corner and sank into the plush leather. Sunlight from the twelve-paned picture window cast a golden glow over her husband, his arms around Ethan, who snuggled next to him, and Evan, secure in the baby pouch carefully strapped over Beanie’s good shoulder.

  At nine in the morning, her three favorite guys were still sleeping, but Noelle didn’t mind.

  After everything they’d all been through, Beanie deserved the rest and the unconditional love and affection from their boys.

  Tucking her legs beneath her, Noelle glanced toward the window, watching the tall palms swaying in the breeze.

  Four days had passed since the awful events in Kevin Cook’s apartment.

  After Noelle had fired the last shot, things had passed in a sickening blur. Dropping the gun, she’d run to Beanie and dropped to her knees next to him. Horrified by the blood spreading across his chest, Noelle had ripped his shirt open, searching for the wound, desperate to stop the bleeding.

  Officer Fields and several other deputies had arrived. As the police crowded the room, Noelle screamed at them to call an ambulance.

  Moments later, Noelle was at the hospital praying that Beanie would make it through surgery. The blade had missed the major organ
s, but Beanie had lost a lot of blood. Octavia had been there for support and to inform her that the police believed she’d shot Matt in self-defense.

  She wouldn’t be charged for killing the psychotic intern.

  The next day, as Beanie recovered from his wounds, Octavia had even better news.

  While processing the crime scene, the police had recovered Noelle’s cell phone which had Matt Delaney’s confession. Also, after a search of Matt’s apartment, the police had physical evidence linking Matt to murders of Eamon Taylor, Ted Chen, and Kevin Cook.

  They also had the notebook Kevin Cook had found—Matt’s rambling manifesto of his hate and resentment toward Eamon Taylor and Noelle. Incensed when he didn’t get the Palmchat Pharmacy job, Matt had outlined his plans to make the two of them pay.

  “Hey, hot mama …”

  Noelle looked over at Beanie. “Hey, sugar daddy,” she teased, adding a wink.

  “Sugar daddy?” Beanie snickered. “Don’t make me laugh, Elle. I’m only two years older than you.”

  Noelle said, “I meant to say, hey handsome hero.”

  Beanie’s grin faltered as he shook his head. “The hero usually doesn’t end up with a knife in his chest.”

  “He does if he puts himself in harm’s way to save the damsel in distress.”

  “That deranged bastard put you through more than just distress,” said Beanie, scowling. “He was going to kill you.”

  “But he didn’t because of you,” said Noelle.

  “And because of you,” said Beanie, “he’ll never hurt us, or anyone else again.”

  Noelle looked down. Shooting Matt wasn’t something she'd wanted to do, or was proud of, but she didn’t regret putting several bullets in him. She would do it again if it meant saving Beanie’s life. She’d squeezed the trigger to protect her future, to make sure her boys would grow up with their father, and to stop a psychotic killer from getting away with murder.