by Dale Mayer
“I was married for fourteen years,” Doreen said coolly. “So you’d think I’d know.”
“Yeah, but you see the operative word there,” Cecily said. “Was. So if you knew how to do your job, you would still be married.”
“Oh, okay. That’s interesting,” Doreen said, “because, for you, marriage is a job. I never considered it that way. So, when you quit a job, that’s what a divorce is to you then?” She chuckled. “That’s an interesting take on marriage. I’m not sure it’s all that complimentary to men, unless a divorce is them quitting their jobs too? Although I don’t think you’re really too bothered about the male point of view, are you?”
“This is a stupid conversation,” Cecily said. “I came here to tie up loose ends, and you’re one of them.”
“You don’t have to tie up anything with me,” Doreen said softly. “You messed up, and the law is all over you. There’s no statute of limitations on murder. They’ll find you, whether you believe it or not, even if you leave town right now. They’ll come after you, and they’ll get you. It might take ten years, might take twenty. You might even have fifty years on the run, if you’re really lucky. But the fact of the matter is, you will spend all that time looking over your shoulder, and they’ll still get you.”
“So then it doesn’t matter,” she said.
“You’ve already killed two people,” Doreen said with certainty. “It’s not like your sister’s boyfriend killed her. You did. You killed her. Then you killed Josh and made it look like it was a murder-suicide.”
The woman just stared at her. “How is it that you even figured that out? It’s not like anybody was around as a witness.”
“Nope,” she said. “But somebody heard.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You see? I heard four shots. Two, a little break, and then two more. And, with that fact in mind,” Doreen said, “it’s unlikely to be a murder-suicide. And that decrepit house? Why were they there? It hardly fit them.”
“What are you talking about? Of course it was a murder-suicide. Two shots and two shots. As for the location, Josh had just bought the dump. He would flip it, he said. Likely story. And so not my sister’s style. She never belonged in that place—not even for a minute,” she said. “Two bullets apiece. What’s wrong about that? He didn’t have to kill himself at the time. He probably fired two warning shots, then fired two more that killed her. Who knows what was going through his mind at the time?”
“Except forensics didn’t find any other bullet holes.” At least she hadn’t heard from Mack that they had. She knew Cecily had killed them both, but getting her to admit it would be hard … or maybe not. Smoothly Doreen slipped the conversation back to Cecily’s actions. “If you had left them where they had dropped, then no one would have been the wiser. But, for whatever reason, after killing them both, you felt the need to move your sister’s body.”
Cecily glared at Doreen for a long moment, then gave a nonchalant shrug. “I had to bring her back to where it all started,” she said slowly. “It’s also what Josh would have done if he’d killed her. To make a point. And to bring her home. Two motives blended together. And I had to make it look like she’d died by his hand.”
“Sure.” Doreen nodded slowly, grateful Cecily had admitted her actions but worried that she had because she obviously didn’t see Doreen as a threat. And planned to make sure she wasn’t alive to tell any tales.
She heard the front door open quietly. As long as Cecily didn’t, it was all good. Doreen could hope it was Mack, but she didn’t know if Cecily worked alone. “That’s why so much blood was on the papers and the material. The material was your clothes, right? I guess your sister wasn’t easy to move.”
“No, she wasn’t. I’ve always been strong and way bigger than she was, so I figured I could do it a whole lot easier than I did. I almost dropped her and ended up grabbing her by the neck at the garden,” she said. “Afterward I didn’t even think about it. I just changed and put the bloody clothes in the garbage.”
“But you forgot there wasn’t a weekend pickup,” Doreen said.
“I missed Friday’s pickup,” she said.
“And, therefore, the bloody clothes were still in the garbage.”
“Do you always go snooping in other people’s garbage?” Cecily asked in outrage.
“I was being a good citizen,” Doreen said with a wave of her hand.
The gun lifted again.
“Easy. I’m just explaining what I did. I went there to pay my respects to your sister, and Mugs had to take a poop. When Mugs takes a poop, Mugs takes a royal poop. I had doggie bags with me. I cleaned it up, but I didn’t want to take the doggie bag to my car, so I took it to the garbage can. As soon as I opened the lid, all I could see were the bloody papers. And if you know anything about blood,” she said quietly, “you know that was a lot of blood. That was way more than a bloody nose could have made. It was way more than a small cut would produce. That was some serious blood. As in that was blood likely from your sister, who died in the derelict house. … Did you even say good-bye to her? Or did you let your sister just lie in that house and bleed out while you laughed?”
“I said good-bye,” Cecily said. “Do you think I wanted to do it? Of course I didn’t want to. She’s the only relative I had.”
“Oh, I’m really glad to hear that,” Doreen said.
The woman stared at her in surprise. “What? That my sister is my only relative?”
“Yes, because, if you still had a mother around, she’d already be suffering because of the loss of one of her daughters. And then she’d get another blow when she found out her second daughter had killed the first, and now she’ll lose the second one as well.”
“I’m the older one,” Cecily snapped. “I’m the first daughter.”
Doreen gave a slow nod. “Okay, whatever works for you.”
“And I’m not going to prison,” she said.
“If you had just come in and shot me dead, then left, I would have more faith in that statement.”
“Why?” she said. “I had to know how you figured it out.”
“It wasn’t all that hard. Think about it. You messed up on the garbage can.” Doreen snorted, not sure why she was pricking the woman’s temper. “Besides, now that you do know, you still haven’t pulled the trigger.”
“I’m getting ready to,” Cecily growled. “But I need any cash you have.”
“Cash?” Doreen laughed. “I don’t have any. None at all.”
“But you have to. You don’t have a job. You live in this house all by yourself. And, according to the rumors, you have antiques. So stop with the games and give me all the cash you have.”
Doreen leaned forward. “You heard about the antiques?”
Cecily waved the gun. “What are you, an idiot? The minute you do anything in this town, of course everyone finds out.”
Doreen watched the gun. Time was running out. And Cecily would be even more pissed when Doreen didn’t give up any cash. She thought she’d heard the door, thought she’d heard Mack enter but saw no sign of him.
Just then Thaddeus, who’d been on the kitchen counter, hopped onto the table and preened.
Cecily looked at the bird in disgust. “How can you live with that thing? It just shits everywhere.”
“He’s pretty decently trained,” Doreen said cheerfully. “He has a couple places he uses for bathroom breaks, but, other than that, he just shits on selective people.”
“He shits on people?” She stepped back.
“He does have a bit of an attitude. And he likes to shit on people with shitty attitudes too,” Doreen said, giggling. She didn’t know how long she could keep this up. Her gaze was ever watchful, looking for her chance. But Cecily was just too far away. If Doreen tried to kick the gun out of her hand, she’d likely get shot in the process.
But just then Thaddeus hopped up onto Cecily’s shoulder. She shrieked. “Get it off of me. Get it off of me.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Doreen said. “He hasn’t had a dump this morning. He’s probably looking for the perfect spot.”
She shrieked all the louder and hit the bird hard with her hand.
Thaddeus let out a cry as he tumbled off her shoulder onto the floor. Because he couldn’t fly well, it was much harder for him to break his fall. But, as soon as he hit the floor, Goliath climbed up Cecily’s thigh, howling in outrage. Mugs barked, twisting between her legs. She was in high heels, which just completely blew Doreen away because high heels were one of those torture instruments that she tolerated for a few hours in the evening. But during the day? Hell no. At least not now that her soon-to-be ex-husband wasn’t here, forcing her to wear them.
She watched in fascination as Mugs tripped up Cecily at feet level, and Goliath tried to claw up her legs to her waist, digging in his claws for gripping purposes—and he was no lightweight. Cecily shrieked as if under attack.
When Mack snagged the gun from her hand, Cecily didn’t even notice. She screeched and hit out at Goliath, kicking poor Mugs. But Goliath had a beautiful response. As a hand came toward him, he reached up and clamped down tight on her finger. Her shrieks turned to sobs of pain, and Mugs gave her one hard swat of his butt, then jumped up, placing both thick paws on the back of her knees. She went down, falling forward, collapsing hard on the floor, crying out in pain.
With Mack holding the gun on Cecily, Doreen tried to calm down Goliath. “Hey, Goliath. It’s okay, honey. Take it easy. She didn’t hurt Thaddeus.” She glanced over at Thaddeus, hoping that was true.
Thaddeus ruffled his feathers, sitting on top of the table, looking down at the woman who had sent him flying, as if she deserved everything his friends had inflicted on her.
Finally, with a lot of pressure on his jaw, Doreen forced Goliath to release his grip on Cecily’s finger. Cecily held her hand against her chest, crying as if her heart was broken—or maybe her finger.
Doreen figured probably both were possible. At some point it would hit Cecily that she’d killed her own sister. It was one thing to do that in a rage, but it was another thing to do it out of spite. Eventually the reality had to set in that Cecily was now alone in the world. And her future was not looking too bright.
Doreen reached up to high five Mack.
When their hands clapped and disengaged, he said, “You know what? My instincts told me not to knock. Figures you’d get into trouble, even early on a Tuesday. Apparently no day is safe with you.”
She beamed up at him. “See? That’s all due to the animals. They were probably sending you ESP messages.”
He glared at her.
She chuckled. “Just kidding. I figured you were hungry.”
He pointed down at Cecily. “I can’t believe she killed them both.”
“Were you listening that long?” she asked.
He held up his phone. “And I learned from you. I recorded the entire thing.”
At that, Cecily burst into more tears and curled up on the floor in a fetal position.
“You better call a cruiser to come and get your prisoner,” Doreen said. “I think we just cuffed a double murderer.”
He looked at her and smiled. “Thanks for that.”
“Thanks for coming to the rescue,” she said. “I’m happy to solve your cases as long as you keep saving my poor sad ass in the process.”
At that, he burst out laughing. “It’s a deal.”
Chapter 25
Tuesday late morning…
Mack walked back into the kitchen at eleven thirty, took off his jacket, placed it around the back of the chair, and said, “Now I’m hungry. Where is the omelet?”
She laughed. “I’ve replayed that video three different times. I’m still not sure I know how to do this.”
“Come on. Get up there,” he said. “It’s not hard.”
Under his watchful eye, she carefully sliced the bacon, taking five times longer than he had the day before. Every time she tried to apologize, he brushed it away.
“Forget about it. Do it right the first time, and you won’t have to endure the learning curve again. You’ll get faster eventually.”
With onions and bacon simmering—and wasn’t that something to turn on the burner and have it heat up—she thought this was the best thing since peanut butter. She added the mushrooms; then he showed her how to scramble the eggs, which she did. She removed all the ingredients from the pan when they were done, cracked in the eggs, stirring vigorously, and, when that was ready, she laid the rest of the ingredients on top, along with some grated cheese, and looked at him.
“Now take the flipper and gently fold it in half.”
Knowing this was kind of an initial test of her cooking skills, she gently eased the flipper under one side, totally amazed when it lifted without a sticking problem, and carefully folded it over. And sure enough, it was beautifully golden on the surface.
He picked up the lid, handing it to her.
She plunked it down and grinned up at him. “I did it!” she cried out.
“Almost,” he said. “It’s easy to get cocky right now and burn it.”
Her gaze locked back down at the pan. “How long do I leave it like this?” She chewed on her bottom lip. “Because I sure don’t want to mess it up now.”
“Not to worry,” he said. “Maybe give it another thirty seconds. I’ll get the plates.” He took plates, knives, and forks to the table.
When she reached her count to thirty, she lifted the lid and sighed happily. “Somehow you got it onto the board without breaking it.”
“You could cut it in the pan too,” he said, “if that’s easier. Just take the spatula, find your middle, and push down, separating it gently.”
Deciding that was probably easier, she followed his suggestion and soon enough had two large pieces of omelet. It took a bit to get them out of the pan and onto the plates, but, when she was done, she’d never been prouder. She turned, sighed, and handed him a plate. “Brunch is served.”
He laughed and gave her a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be very happy to eat it too.”
They sat down and enjoyed their meal. She couldn’t believe it. “It tastes like an omelet.” She almost got teary-eyed over this. Instead she took a dozen pictures. “I’m sending these to Nan. She’ll be absolutely thrilled for me.”
As soon as she did, Mack looked over and said, “You realize you sent pictures of both of our plates, right?”
She looked up at him and said, “Yes, of course. I made them both.” She looked confused. “Why? What does that mean?”
His gaze lightened. “Nothing. Except for her penchant for betting on our love lives. Now she’ll know I was here this morning too.”
She sagged in place. “Oh, no. What did I do?”
He just chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. This was cooking lesson one, and you did very, very well.”
She rubbed her hands together with a smile. “You did it much faster and had extras to go with yours. But I made something on the stove.” She hopped up to double-check that the stove was off, patted it with her hand. “Well done, Doreen.”
Chapter 26
Tuesday mid-afternoon…
It was now two o’clock. After Mack had taken away the gun-toting Cecily, the reporters had somehow found out she had been threatened at gunpoint in her home by the same person who had murdered the two recent victims in town.
The media had arrived in an irritating avalanche.
In defiance, Doreen had grabbed four lawn chairs, putting them on the sidewalk in front of her house. “If you’ll wait here, you might as well be comfortable.”
When it came time to oversee the scuba diving, she snuck out the back. Reaching the site, she stared at the beach, realizing how many people were here. She walked over to Nathan. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “Somehow word got out.”
He patted her hand. “Not to worry. I probably put the word out. I mean, it’s a long shot that we’ll find anything, but
it’s a darn good idea. We should have done this a long time ago. The fact that you’re the one who thought of it has just cemented your reputation in town.”
She sighed. “I didn’t try to get a reputation, you know?”
He chuckled. “And you realize that’s what reputations are all about. It’s not something you try to get. It’s something you earn. I’m glad to see you’re also not injured from today’s attack.”
“Honestly, I think Cecily was attacked more by my animals than I was attacked by her,” she confessed. “Goliath bit her hand. Mugs tripped her because she hit poor Thaddeus.”
Nathan reached out and touched Thaddeus’s wings. “Is he okay?” he asked with concern.
Thaddeus opened his beak. “Thaddeus is fine. Thaddeus is fine.”
Nathan chuckled. “How he must enrich your life,” he said in envy. “It’s truly a remarkable relationship you have with them.”
“It is,” she said. “And you’re right. They have enriched my life. It seemed so lonely before, and the three of them now are just so much a part of what I do every day.”
Just then Mugs barked. They looked out across the water to see scuba divers coming up.
“You think they found anything?”
“We’ll get a signal. Green means they found something, and blue means they didn’t.”
“They’re far enough away,” she said, “that the green and blue are likely to look the same.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” he said. “We should be able to see in a minute.”
And there it was, a huge green board held up from the boat.
Around her the crowd cheered.
Her hand went over her mouth, and she gasped. “Oh my,” she said. “I just never thought I could possibly be right.”
“Well, my dear, it looks like not only were you right but you have just saved two families more heartache. Thank you. Thank you for coming to Kelowna. I’d really love to be involved in any other mysteries you get your hands into,” he said with a chuckle. “How vastly entertaining you are to have as a friend.” He tucked her hand into his, and they walked closer to the beach.