“Palmetto isn’t testifying against me. You got a family?”
“Of course. And they want me alive.”
“Mine too. And if I go down for murder, they’ll know I did it for them. They’ll be proud.”
“I talked to your dad this morning. He’s not proud. He’s horrified.”
“I’m not talking about Ron. He’s never been proud of me. He just wants to use me for Mother’s money.” Parker strode toward me. “Move.”
“Okay, your gang is your family. I get it.” I held up my hands, backing into the office. “So you’re going to work for your gang in prison. That’ll be real nice. Snitching on inmates in return for canteen candy bars. You kill me and you’re getting life. You’ll never get out. It’ll be the death penalty. My boyfriend is a deputy and my uncle is the sheriff. They’ll make sure Harry Hunt faces off with the state’s best prosecutor. Harry Hunt’s not that good of a lawyer.”
“You’re trying to talk yourself out of getting killed.” He raised the gun and staggered toward me. “Get in the office.”
I tripped backward through the door while my mind whirred, clicking bits of the puzzle into place. My butt hit the chair where I’d found Coralee. I leaped away, almost colliding with Parker. He pushed me with his free hand and the small of my back hit the desk.
“At this point, you’re still a free man. They can’t prove you killed your momma yet. But you kill me and they’ll pin all the deaths on you. Your mother, Coralee, Miss Belvia, and me.”
“I didn’t kill my mom. And I don’t care who did.” The gun shook.
I sucked in the awful scent of the cleanser they used to remove Coralee’s blood and gagged.
“Yes, you do. And I’ll tell you as soon as you let Molly go.” My words came out in gasps. “Even if she wasn’t always there for you, she’s still your momma. I have a mother like that too. I don’t want to see her, but I wouldn’t wish her dead. You’ll spend your life in prison not knowing what happened.”
He narrowed his eyes and ran a hand over his beard. “Tell me now. But I’m not letting Molly go.”
I needed to reason with him to survive, but I didn’t want Molly killed. Dammit.
“Promise me you won’t hurt her,” I said.
“I’m not promising you crap, girl. What is it with you?”
“Why do you think Molly wanted you to buy her Lanoxin?”
“I don’t know. Because she’s worried she’s going to get kicked out of this place and needs the money?”
“No. Because she wants to plant the evidence on you.”
“What evidence?”
“The police already know you buy drugs from Halo House. So does Molly. It works in her favor if you have the Lanoxin.”
“Why?”
“Because Lanoxin was injected into Belvia’s pain patches and Coralee’s chocolates.”
“What are you talking about?” He rubbed his bicep against his forehead and backed into the doorway. “Molly, get in here.”
“Wait,” I cried. “It’s better if Molly is arrested. You shoot her and me and you’ll get pinned for all the murders. Maybe your conscience can handle knowing you killed us—”
“I don’t have a conscience.”
“But now you’re also going to prison for our homicides and for the murders of your mother, grandmother, and aunt. Your blood. You know how they’ll portray you?” I slitted my eyes and pointed at my head. “Like a serial killer who goes after women. His own women. The male Lizzy Borden.”
“What the hell—” He shook his head and stumbled through the door.
“But,” I followed him into the living room, “if you help with Molly’s arrest, you’ll be a hero. The one who saved women. His women.”
“Just move.”
“Miss Belvia told me to ‘watch out for Molly,’ not ‘watch over Molly.’ All that talk about sociopaths who don’t seem outwardly crazy. Now I understand. Your grandmother wanted me to intervene before the police arrested Molly. It wasn’t just to protect the company.”
“Ridiculous,” said Molly. “If she thought I killed Della, Belvia would have told the police.”
“She didn’t want to do it herself. Maybe she didn’t want to believe it. Or she was too loyal to Molly. Miss Belvia even sent me to you first, knowing how skeptical I am. Hoping I’d notice something. But I’d been too wrapped up in my own problems to think about you as a suspect.”
“She’s lying.” Molly stood in the kitchen doorway. “She’s trying to get you to let her go. By saying I killed your family? An old woman?”
“Wait a minute.” Parker looked from Molly to me, lowering his trembling gun arm. “I don’t understand.”
“That’s not even Molly,” I said. “It’s her sister, Maggie. Molly died six months ago, just after she retired. Or maybe before and Maggie retired her. Molly liked to work.”
“What?” He ran a hand over his neck.
“She’s trying to confuse you, dear,” said Molly/Maggie. “You’ve known me your whole life.”
“You knew Molly,” I insisted. “This is her sister, Maggie. Molly took sick and died. For some reason, her sister took her place. I studied their photos and I’m good with details. I’m an artist, remember?”
“That’s ridiculous,” she said. “You can’t tell from a photo. I’ve aged.”
“Parker, look at the sequins,” I said, hating the ring of desperation in my rising tone. “Have you ever seen Molly wear a sparkly cat sweatsuit?”
“These are my home clothes.” Maggie raised her chin. “A few sequins and kittens doesn’t prove anything.”
“I bet Molly’s home clothes would’ve been slacks and a sweater set. Maggie’s the one who likes the sparkles. Look at your apartment. It’s full of tchotchkes. I bet Molly tried to curb your Precious Moments binging just like she tried to curb your silliness during that photo session.”
“You don’t know me or my sister.”
“I know you’re not Molly. That’s why you were insistent on not doing anything with the company this week. It wasn’t that you were retired. You didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t tell me how to take meeting notes.”
My voice strengthened as I became more convinced. “Belvia saw it too. She knew you’d changed. I don’t think she wanted to admit to herself that Molly’s sister could have hurt Della. That’s why she wanted me to figure it out. She hoped she was wrong. And if I found evidence, she planned on taking action against Maggie herself. Privately. Without the police.”
“You’re saying this woman isn’t Molly and she hurt my mom?” Parker’s voice shook. “Why would she do this?”
“Della probably figured it out,” I said sadly.
“I didn’t do anything,” said Maggie. “She’s fabricating this whole story to confuse you, Parker.”
“Maggie,” I said. “What would Molly say if she knew you were doing this? She’d want to you to do the right thing, wouldn’t she? To give this up. It’s over.”
“Nobody’s going anywhere.” Parker looked between us, then centered the gun on Maggie’s chest. “Talk.”
Thirty-Five
Sam Hill, we had a flippin’ hostage situation. Sweat beaded my neck despite the ice flowing through my veins. I clamped my lips shut to force my breathing to slow and tried to focus.
“Talk, old woman,” repeated Parker. The gun shook and he tightened his grip. “Or I’ll kill you first.”
As Maggie stared at Parker, the calm veneer crumbled. Her neck flushed and the powdered cheeks darkened.
“Molly would want me to have what I deserve.” Maggie’s nostrils flared and her lips pulled back. “I took care of her all her life. First our grandparents. Then our parents. Then Molly. I was the one who made sure she had hot food on the table when she came home late from all those
meetings. I got her suits dry-cleaned and ironed her stuffy blouses. She was too busy to have her own family, working for Belvia like she did, but she didn’t care because she had me. She promised to take care of me. Like Belvia promised to always take care of her.”
“Then why…” My voice squeaked. I took a deep breath. “Why would you kill them?”
“Della was trying to cheat me out of what Molly deserved. We were going to live comfortably. Have this apartment near Belvia and be taken care of in our old age. Della had the audacity to accuse me of taking advantage of Belvia because Belvia was blind. But that was Belvia’s business wasn’t it?”
“But that was promised to Molly, not you,” I said. “Della was trying to protect her mother.”
“I did Belvia a favor. She loved Molly. Pretending I was Molly made it easier for her. Della should have understood. She only cared about the company, not about the people.”
Parker’s head jerked to the side like he’d been slapped. Recovering, he adjusted his stance and motioned with the gun. “Keep going, old woman.”
Maggie’s eyes flashed. “When Molly died, Belvia was the first person I called. Even before the ambulance. When she heard my voice, Belvia had thought I was Molly. We sound the same. How could I contradict Belvia? No one contradicts Belvia.”
“She could have handled the truth,” I said.
“No, I knew she wanted me to be Molly. And it was easy. Even for the death certificate, it was easy. We were at home. What’s one more old woman? Nobody notices us after a certain age.” Her lip curled. “I dressed like Molly and acted like Molly. I wore Molly’s scent. I was a comfort in Belvia’s old age, having her friend nearby. It would have worked out fine if it wasn’t for Della.”
“Maggie, it was all a lie.” I shook my head. “That’s fraud.”
“Molly had planned on retiring anyway. All I had to do was live down the hall and spend time with Belvia. I deserve everything Molly was promised.” Maggie shook her finger at Parker. “I was doing a good thing for your grandmother. Always at her beck and call by that pager. Your mother shouldn’t have interfered. What harm could come of it? I would have been destitute.”
If Maggie hadn’t used murder to solve her problems, I would’ve felt sorry for her. “I’m sure Molly had left something for you. You wouldn’t have been destitute.”
“I was doing it for Belvia.”
“You had a golden egg, but Della threatened to kill the goose.”
“What goose? Did she kill my mother or not?”
We looked at Parker. His face had drawn tight and pale, his eyes red with unshed tears.
“I didn’t mean to kill her,” Maggie told him. “It was an accident.”
My fear dissipated as anger took its place. “You turned the car around to hit Della. I saw the tracks myself. Donna said Della had called you in for a meeting that day, but it was interrupted by the Meemaw’s Tea infighting. I bet Della had called that meeting to end your masquerade. When you left the factory and saw Della jogging, you turned the car around and ran her over.”
I couldn’t keep the snarl out of my voice. Parker might be a drug dealer and criminal lowlife, but this woman had murdered his mother. “And you deliberately killed Belvia. With Molly’s heart medicine. How could you do that to Molly?”
“I didn’t plan on it,” she cried. “But after Della died—”
“You mean, after you murdered Della.”
She glared at me. “After Della died, Belvia said she would change her will. You were there when she signed it. Maybe Belvia had listened to Della and was going to cut out Molly’s retirement. What else could I do? I didn’t know what was in that will.”
“What else could you do? You stole it, didn’t you? Wasn’t that enough?”
“I just didn’t have time to read the full will when Belvia caught me. I still have the will. It’s not really stolen. I couldn’t replace it because she died so quickly. And then you got the police involved, so I couldn’t put it back now could I?”
“You pumped her full of Lanoxin and then she found you stealing the will? No wonder her heart went. That’s identity theft, robbery, and murder.” I pulled in a breath. “I think Molly kept you at home as a community service.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Maggie steepled her hands together and turned a tearful gaze toward Parker. “Your grandmother was ninety and blind. She was miserable over the death of Della. It was a natural way to go. And she went quickly.”
“Seeping a Lidocaine patch in Lanoxin to force a heart attack is not a natural way to go, Maggie.”
“I only did that because Belvia didn’t eat the chocolates. But I’m not sorry that Coralee ate them. And someone else had the same idea. I saw that pencil. Coralee was greedy and mean. You don’t get a pencil stuck in your neck for being nice.”
“Lord Almighty. You are crazier than a sack of wet cats. Now I’m wondering if Molly’s death at home was natural.”
“I. Am. Not. Crazy. Molly had pneumonia and died,” Maggie screamed. “Molly wanted me taken care of.”
“Maybe in an institution,” I muttered. “Maybe that’s why you didn’t want to rely on Molly’s will.”
“Y’all shut up.” Parker raised his gun and pointed it between us. “I can’t take this anymore.”
“Calm yourself, Parker,” I said. “It’ll be okay. Put the gun down.”
“Shut up. I need to talk to my boys.” He drew a phone from his pocket, pressed on the surface, and tucked it under his chin. Steadying his gun with his left hand, he spoke with his eyes on us. “Palmetto, that you?”
He listened for a moment, his bloodshot eyes growing wide. His chin jerked and the phone thudded on the carpet. He stared at it for a moment before slamming his boot onto the screen.
I flinched. “I guess a deputy answered Palmetto’s phone. I told you he’d been arrested.”
Parker lurched and the pistol jostled in his grip. “You ratted us out.”
“I didn’t, I swear. It would have implicated my friends.” My heart hammered and my hands flew into the air. “It’s not too late for you. You can reduce your sentence by testifying against Palmetto.”
“I don’t squeal. This is because of you.” He swore. The barrel veered toward Maggie. “And you. You killed my mom.”
“Parker, honey.” Maggie held her hands out. The maniacal rage had ebbed. “Why don’t I make you some tea?”
“No tea, Parker,” I hollered. “She’ll poison you.”
“Just stop,” he screamed. Parker pitched forward and the gun swayed, careening between Maggie and me. “I can’t take this. I need to think.”
A knock sounded on the door. We spun simultaneously toward the sound.
“Don’t move.” Parker staggered toward the door.
“He’s got a gun,” I shrieked. “Parker’s coming to the door with a gun.”
Parker whipped around to face me. “I told you to shut up.”
The gun fired, cutting off my scream.
Thirty-Six
Behind me, the wall splintered into a cloud of paint and plaster. I lunged at Maggie, pulling us to the ground. She fell, clutching me and panting erratically. I dragged her toward one of Belvia’s living room chairs, wedging us behind it.
Parker’s accompanying howl sounded inhuman. Fury and anguish fought for control, ripping him in two.
“Parker,” I said. “I know you don’t want to shoot us. It’ll be all right.”
Someone hammered on the door.
“Go away,” screamed Parker.
The hammering continued.
Parker paced before the door, muttering curses.
“Parker, we’re taking care of this,” I called. “We’re turning Maggie over to the police.”
Maggie lay beneath me, still panting. Her eye
s had gone wide, staring at the dust motes from the exploded plaster flying around us.
“But first you need to set the gun down,” I said. “Can’t get Maggie to the authorities until you disarm.”
“She killed my mom,” he howled.
“I know, Parker. We’re going to handle this. Put down the gun.”
A key scraped in the lock.
“I’ve got a gun,” screamed Parker. “Don’t come in here.”
The door cracked and swung open.
Shitfire, I thought. I was not the only one with a death wish.
“Armed man,” I hollered and peered out from behind the chair. “Don’t come in here.”
“Sheriff’s deputy. Stand down. Put down your weapon.” Luke’s voice carried through the doorway, his raised handgun visible at the edge of the frame. “Cherry, you in there? Who else? Anybody hurt?”
“No one’s hurt. It’s just Maggie, Parker, and me. Maggie and I are on the floor, behind a chair. Parker’s against your wall. He’s sweating something fierce. Listen, he doesn’t really want to shoot anybody. He just needs to calm down.”
“I heard a gunshot.”
“He did shoot the wall, but he’s all upset because Maggie killed his momma.”
“Shut up.” Parker wiped his forehead with his gun arm. “I will shoot you. You come in here, cop, and I’ll shoot them both. And you.”
“You don’t want to shoot me,” I said to Parker. “And you really don’t want to shoot a deputy. That’s about the quickest trip to hell. Luke will blow a hole in you so wide, they’ll never get the blood out of the carpet.”
“This Maggie is a resident?” Luke called.
“Sort of. Long story.” I looked at Maggie. “You okay, Maggie?”
“Can’t breathe.” Her hands scrabbled beneath her.
I eased up and rolled away to give her some space. “It’ll all be fine. Parker’s going to lay down his gun—”
A Composition in Murder (A Cherry Tucker Mystery Book 6) Page 27