The Doom Diva Mysteries Books 1

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The Doom Diva Mysteries Books 1 Page 42

by Sherry M. Siska


  24

  It occurred to me when I passed Danny’s Mini-Mart that Charli might have already left the country club, so I stopped and used the pay phone to call her house. There was no answer, so I dialed Mom’s cell.

  “Hey, it’s me,” I said when she answered. “I’m really sorry about what happened. Giselle started it, you know.”

  Mom let out a heavy sigh, her ‘God help us all’ sigh. “Where are you?”

  “I’m looking for Charli. She hasn’t come back there has she?”

  “No. And Dad said that her car wasn’t in the parking lot. I’m terribly concerned about her. I don’t like not knowing where she is with that mad-man on the loose.”

  “I know. Me either. Kyle Zagle said that he talked to her before she left the park and that she was going over to the country club. That’s where I’m headed. I’ll call you as soon as I find her.”

  I didn’t see Charli’s car in the parking lot of the country club, but I could have missed it. I limped into the old mansion. It was icy inside and I wanted to lay down on the sofa and take a nap. A foursome of golfers headed for the nineteenth hole stared at me and whispered to each other. One of them asked if I needed any assistance. I told him ‘no’ and kept shuffling along.

  Almost as soon as they rounded the corner, a club employee rushed up to me. “May I help you, Miss? Have you had an accident? Should I call for an ambulance for you? The police perhaps?” He took my arm and pulled me down the hall into an office. I guess he didn’t want me to frighten off the patrons.

  “No, I’m fine. Really. It looks a lot worse than it is. I’m searching for my sister, Charli Carsky. She left a message for me that she was coming here to talk to the manager.”

  The young man dialed an extension, asked the person on the other end if they’d seen Jim, and then hung up. “He’ll be right with you. Would you like something, a soda perhaps?”

  “A bottle of water would be great, thanks.”

  He told me to wait right there and disappeared. The office was tiny and plain, no pictures on the walls, a gray metal desk, and a couple of gray metal file cabinets. The nameplate on the desk was the only personality in the room. The door swung open and the young man re-entered, an older man that I recognized as the club manager following behind him. The younger man handed me an icy bottle of water and excused himself.

  “Miss Sheffield, are you all right?” the manager asked, obviously alarmed by my appearance.

  “Yes sir, I’m fine. Really. I had a message that my sister was coming by to talk to you. Has she been here?”

  The man positively beamed when I mentioned Charli. “Why yes, she was here. She left about thirty minutes ago. A delightful young woman. She reminds me so much of your beautiful mother.”

  “Yes, Charli’s a chip off the old Jell-O mold. Sir, I know that Charli came to see you about the necklace that I lost last Saturday night. Were you able to answer her questions?”

  “Yes, I’m so sorry that I didn’t call you before about the necklace. When I didn’t hear from you I assumed that Ms. Ward had returned it to you.”

  I felt myself sinking into the floor, the blood rushing out of my head. “Ms. Ward. You gave the necklace to Dicey?”

  He paled. “Why yes, she told me that she’d see to it that you received it. I’ve known Dicey for years. I had no reason not to believe her. I’m terribly sorry about this matter. I hope that I haven’t caused you any difficulties.”

  “No sir,” I said, “not at all. Thank you. Thank you very much.”

  I practically ran to my car. Well, actually, it was more like a fast shuffle. I drove as fast as I dared, praying that Charli hadn’t done anything stupid, but knowing how impulsive my sister can be, pretty much counting on it.

  Charli’s car was in her driveway, but just as I’d figured, she wasn’t at home. I felt the hood like cops are always doing on TV and to my surprise it was noticeably warmer than the rest of the car. Good. That meant that maybe I wasn’t too late to stop Charli from making a big mistake. I trotted across the yards, adrenaline overcoming the pain, and in my impatience started to ring Dicey’s doorbell, but caught myself just before I pressed the button. If Charli was confronting her, my sister could be in big trouble. I tried to peer in through the windows, but couldn’t see because the blinds were all tightly closed.

  I slipped around to the side of the house and tried peeking in the kitchen window, but the curtains were drawn. Dicey’s gate was locked so I wheeled her ninety gallon green trashcan over to the fence and heaved myself on top, trying to make as little noise as possible. I hoped the thing was as sturdy as it looked. Dicey’s backyard was empty. I hoisted myself over the fence and dropped to the ground, stifling the scream I felt in reaction to the pain. The man to the rear of Dicey’s house was mowing his lawn, which helped drown out the squeal and the thump I made when I landed. I made sure to hug up close to the house and tried peeking in the windows back there, but again, the blinds were all tightly closed and I couldn’t see anything.

  The lawn mower died just as I crept onto the stairs leading to the deck. I got down on my hands and knees and inched up the four steps then crawled slowly across the wooden deck. The French doors that led into Dicey’s study were open and I heard Dicey’s deep throaty cackle and my sister’s soft southern drawl. I stayed down and snuck over as close to the doors as I dared.

  “Well, Charlene, ” Dicey said. “What can I do for you? You look mighty troubled.”

  I tried the telepathy thing again, wishing like hell that it really worked. Please, Charli, don’t do it. Just get out of there and call the police. Let them handle it. But, of course, it didn’t work.

  “I just had an interesting conversation, Dicey. Two of them, in fact, and I, well, I thought that the fair thing to do is to ask you about them before I go to the police. I mean there must be a simple explanation for all of this.”

  “Why, Charli, what on earth are you talking about? Are you in some sort of trouble?”

  I tried to think what to do. Maybe I should just go in and forbid Charli from saying anything. It wasn’t too late yet. I quickly made up my mind to do just that and was about to stand up when Charli blurted it out.

  “Dicey, I think you’ve been embezzling money from ONAG. I talked to the accountant and he said that there were serious problems with the audit. As soon as he said it, it reminded me of something I’d overheard Frank say to Sam a few weeks ago. At the time, it didn’t make any sense to me, but now it does. Frank suspected you were stealing money, didn’t he?”

  Embezzling? Suddenly Miss Hazeltine’s recollection of Charli and the accountant’s conversation made sense to me. He had said ONAG not nagging, and that there were irregularities in the audit, but with Frank Billingham dead and the other two guys in jail or about to be, everything was at a standstill. I dithered with myself, trying to decide if it would be better for me to run and call the police or to stay where I was and make sure that Charli stayed safe. Tough choice, but in the end, I stayed put. If Dicey suddenly pulled out a gun, Charli could be dead before I even got to a phone.

  “Charli, sugah, I don’t know why on earth you’d believe such nonsense. I thought you were my friend.”

  “I am, Dicey. That’s why I’m here. I wanted to give you a chance to explain. Look, I know that there’s money missing from the ONAG account. I know that Frank told Sam that you were digging yourself a big hole and that he was going to bury you in it. That he was going to get rid of you once and for all. Is it true, Dicey? Have you been stealing from ONAG?”

  Dicey laughed, but it wasn’t her usual carefree, full-bodied cackle. It came out strained. “Hell no, Charli. And I’m offended you’d even ask me that. You know how Frank was. I don’t like to speak bad about the dead, but I refuse to let my good name be sullied. Yes, there was money missing from ONAG. I was aware of that. And Frank, Frank took it. He was trying to pin it on me. The man was a lunatic. And a drug abuser. I’ll bet you didn’t know that, did you, Charli. Frank Bill
ingham was addicted to Crystal Methamphetamine. And he got my Robby addicted too.”

  “Is that why you killed him?” Charli said it so softly that I almost didn’t hear it.

  “What?” Dicey said, sounding outraged. “What are you saying now, Charlene?”

  “I know about the necklace, Dicey. I know that you left the country club with it. The manger told me. You dropped it when you shot Frank, didn’t you?”

  There was an eerie silence and then I heard footsteps click across Dicey’s hardwood floor and what sounded like a drawer open.

  “Well, this is a fine pickle you’ve got us into now, isn’t it?” Dicey said.

  “Put the gun down, Dicey,” Charli said, “You don’t want to do this.”

  My heart practically jumped through my chest. Why, oh why hadn’t I called the cops when I had the chance? They’d be on their way by now if I had. Now it was too late. My sister was in big trouble and it was all my fault. I frantically tried to think, tried to come up with a way to save Charli.

  “You’re forcing me into it, Charli. Just like Frank did. Why didn’t you leave well enough alone? You should have minded your own business. You’re just like your nosy mother. Always meddling in other people’s affairs, aren’t you?”

  “So you did kill him,” Charli said. “Did you kill Robby too?”

  Dicey choked up. “It was an accident. I was trying to make him stop taking that stuff. He was killing himself with it. I overheard him arranging to meet up with one of his buddies that afternoon down by the coal trestle. They planned to meet there so the other guy could make a buy off of Robby. I got there first and when the other fellow saw me, he lit out of there. I waited until Robby got there and he started yelling and screaming at me. He threatened me, told me he was going to beat me black and blue. He’d hit me before, you know. Twice. Both times he was so high he didn’t even remember doing it. I pulled out the gun and we struggled over it. It went off by accident. I swear to you, Charlene, I didn’t mean to kill him. I just wanted to scare him. I loved him. Loved him with all my heart.”

  I realized that if I was going to save my sister, I’d better move fast. Dicey had a plant on the deck that was lashed to a long green pole like the ones Dad used to stake his tomato plants. I knew that the poles had sharp points on the end so I jumped up, yanked the pole out of the plant and crashed through the screen of Dicey’s French door.

  It took Charli and Dicey both by surprise. As Dicey wheeled around toward me, I swung the pole as hard as I could like a batter going after a fat pitch. It cracked against Dicey’s head and she dropped the gun. Charli, who’d been sitting on the leather wingback chair rushed across the room and she and Dicey hit the floor at the same time, each of them scrambling for the gun. I swung the pole at Dicey again, this time whacking it across her shoulder. She grabbed for the pole and yanked it away from me. But Charli had the gun.

  “Drop it, Dicey. Drop the pole,” my sister said. She pointed the gun steadily at Dicey. “Marty, call 911. Hurry.”

  I saw the pole whipping toward Charli’s hand and stepped in front of it. It hit me in the ribs, right in the exact spot where Giselle had kicked me. I shrieked with pain, but managed to stay on my feet. I used every last bit of energy to yank the pole away from Dicey. When I had it in my hands, I jabbed the pointed end hard into Dicey’s bare foot.

  “Sit down,” I screamed at her. “Sit down now or I’ll tell Charli to shoot you.”

  I staggered over to Dicey’s desk, using the pole like a cane, and dialed 911.

  “Help,” I told the dispatcher. “My sister and I have just apprehended the person responsible for killing Frank Billingham and Robby Pluck. Could you send a car out right away and notify Detective Winger.”

  The dispatcher kept me on the line until the police arrived.

  “They’re here,” I said. “They just pulled in. Thanks so much for your help. Oh, and if it’s not too much trouble, would you mind sending out an ambulance. I’m not feeling so….”

  25

  Tim and I were both released from the hospital the next afternoon. His arm was in a sling, but he looked great. I, on the other hand, looked like I’d been run over by a Mack truck. I did feel a little better, though. The doctors had poked and prodded and x-rayed me from one end to the other, and basically the diagnosis was cracked ribs, severe contusions, and exhaustion. They pumped me up with painkillers, gave me some intravenous fluids, and, to treat my lack of rest, woke me up every two hours to ask if I wanted something to help me sleep. Go figure.

  My theory on the whole matter was that they make you feel so bad while you’re in there that just being released makes you think you are cured. The nurse wheeled me down to the lobby in a wheelchair after I’d signed the papers promising to turn over my first born child in the event that I was unable to pay my bills. Since I wasn’t planning on having kids, I figured what the hey. As long as they didn’t take Delbert. I couldn’t wait to get home and see the big guy.

  Charli and Tim sat chatting on an upholstered bench waiting for my mom and dad, who were driving us home, to pull the car up to the front door. I thanked the nurse, maneuvered out of the chair, and eased on the bench between them. Tim reached over with his good hand and clasped my hand tightly. We sat there waiting for my folks, holding on to each other for dear life.

  “Thank God it’s all over,” I said. “I still can’t believe that Dicey killed them.”

  “Me either,” Charli said. “It’s like the worst nightmare ever.”

  Tim let go of my hand. “Yeah, it is. Dicey was the last person in the world I’d have suspected. Well, except for Charli.”

  Charli beamed at him. “That’s so sweet, Tim.”

  I shifted so I could look at him. It hurt like hell. “Charli? What about me? You wouldn’t suspect me would you?”

  Tim changed the subject. “Hey, I heard they caught Art. He was holed up at his cousin’s hunting camp over in West Virginia.”

  “Really?” I said. “That’s good news.”

  “Yeah,” Tim said. “He’s one sorry son of a gun. Speaking of sorry sons of guns, one of the nurses told me that you sent Ol’ Ricky Ray packing. I heard he high-tailed it back to Nashville with his tail between his legs. Bet he won’t be back around here anytime soon. What did you do to him?”

  “Who me? I didn’t do a thing.” Tim’s my best friend, but he doesn’t need to know every little detail of my personal life.

  Tim slung his unbandaged arm across my shoulder and patted my head. “Like I’m gonna believe that one. I also heard that your boyfriend is leaving town. I’m really sorry. He was a nice guy.”

  My mood sagged a bit. “It really sucks. He found out last night that his company was bought out by one of those even bigger media conglomerates. They promoted him to president so he’s got to move to Seattle. But I guess it’s better now than later. They had a rule about employees dating each other anyway. It was going to be really hard to see him and know that I couldn’t go out with him.”

  “At least you got a job out of it,” Charli said. “Morning drive.”

  I groaned and buried my head in my hands. “Don’t remind me.”

  “But I thought it was your dream job,” Tim said. Full-time, benefits, big raise. What’s wrong now?”

  I gave them Mom’s ‘shoot me now’ sigh. “Kyle sort of forgot to mention a couple of minor little details when he made the offer.”

  Charli stood up and yawned. “Oh really? What were they?”

  “Well, first of all, he didn’t tell me that they were keeping Herb on as the station manager.”

  Tim began to chuckle. “You and Herb, together again. That’s effing great!”

  “Just effing super. But that’s not the worst of it. He also forgot to mention who my on-air partner is going to be.”

  Charli’s jaw dropped. “You don’t mean…”

  “Yep. Starting three weeks from Monday, Giselle St. James and I are going to be the co-hosts of WRRR Morning Drive Live. They think o
ur rivalry will bring in big ratings.”

  Tim laughed so hard I thought he was going to pass out. Personally, I didn’t think it was even remotely amusing. I rubbed my eyes and attempted a stretch. Ouch.

  “God, I wonder what’s taking Mom and Dad so long?” I said. “This bench might as well be made out of granite or something.”

  “I know,” Tim said. “My back is killing me.”

  Charli peered out the door. “They probably had to park over by the clinic or down in the hotel parking garage. Wait, there they come now.”

  Tim carefully pulled me to my feet and we went outside. I saw something strange out of the corner of my eye. My mouth dropped open and I blinked hard. I rubbed my eyes again and did a double take. She was gone.

  “Tim, did you see that?” I asked

  He looked around. “See what?”

  “Over there. By the bus stop. I swear I saw a woman dressed in one of those crinoline dresses, wearing a jester’s cap on her head, and carrying some sort of wand. She looked like that woman who does those lottery commercials.”

  “Marty, I think you’ve let this Lady Luck, bad karma stuff go to your head,” Charli said. “It’s one thing to have bad dreams about her, but now you’re starting to see things. Either that, or you desperately need some sleep.”

  Tim and Charli helped me into the backseat of Mom and Dad’s car and then crawled in next to me while Mom fussed over us. “Marty, dear, did Charlene tell you her good news?”

  I arched a brow at my sister. “What good news?”

  Mom didn’t wait for Charli, she spilled it herself. “John and the children are coming home tomorrow. Isn’t that wonderful?”

  “That’s better than wonderful. I’ll bet you can’t wait,” I said to my sister.

 

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