Deceiver

  “Candy!” Billie exclaims, followed by assorted greetings and congratulatory remarks from the others.

  They’re all here—Lucy, Jade, Gabby, Lora, Sami and Billie. I smile at them, suddenly grateful for their friendship.

  “I’m glad you’re here. Let’s go ahead and get started.” Billie claps her hands.

  Sami places a friendly hand on my shoulder and then addresses everyone. “Let’s all get our plates and migrate to the living room.”

  I stand beside the table staring down at all the food, unsure whether my stomach will actually accept anything. I settle on a salmon croquette and some kind of mystery puffed pastry. Then, I join the ladies in the living room.

  Billie begins. “First, I just want to formally say congratulations to our Candy. She just got a huge promotion at work and can start working normal hours like the rest of us.”

  “Most of us, anyway,” laughs Sami, who bartends until the wee hours of the morning and does tattooing on the side.

  “Congratulations, Candy!”

  Billie applauds, and I’m showered with kind remarks again, loud whooping and general well wishes from the ladies. The chill in my bones begins to thaw, a little.

  “Now, before we start practicing, I want to talk a little about the Stratford strategy. As we know, our dear Mr. Stratford is a genuine, card-carrying member of the LR VFW. They meet every Sunday night beginning at six o’clock, and from what I’ve been able to find out, they end at around eight. That means we have about a two-hour window to do whatever we need to do and get out. Now, Candy was able to get some medication for us, the kind that Mr. Stratford takes for his heart. Is it heart medication, Candy?”

  “Sort of.” I take a small bite of the puff pastry and almost gag. “They’re beta blockers. For blood pressure.”

  “Well, whatever. He takes them every day. So, I got with Gabby yesterday, and we did a little bit of gardening.”

  We all glance at Gabby. She sits straighter in her chair, her chin rising proudly.

  “Anyway, we went through and did some pruning on her Oleander bushes, removing a few of the flowers to do some testing.”

  “Only a few?” Lucy asks, her hand politely covering her mouth, which is full of food.

  “That’s all we need,” I reply. “Oleander is lethal. All of it, from the stems, to the leaves, to the actual flower itself.”

  Billie steps forward, holding something small in her hand. “That’s right. The problem we had was how to get it all in here.” She holds up a small red capsule. “And, honestly, we just couldn’t do it. It was too wet and sappy.”

  Well, it was a good thought, anyway. I look at her, disappointed.

  “But…” She smiles, cutting her eyes at Gabby. “We were able to fill them with the Foxglove. We found a yard full of them down the street from Gabby’s house.”

  “Foxglove?” Jade asks, very interested.

  “Yes. I studied up on these yesterday, and like Oleander, you just need a couple of leaves and they’re fatal.”

  “What about the symptoms?” Lora looks critically at Billie.

  “It varies according to how much is ingested, apparently but the effects can be similar to heart failure. We have no reason to believe they wouldn’t assume a heart attack. Right, Candy?”

  I nod in agreement. “The man’s a walking cholesterol repository. I’m surprised he hasn’t keeled over already.”

  “How easy is it to trace?”

  “It’s not. Not at all,” Billie says. “It will look like a heart attack or heart failure for all intents and purposes. They wouldn’t even do an autopsy in the first place unless they suspected foul play. Even if they did, they don’t perform the right tests to pick up something as rare as Foxglove. They’d almost have to be looking for it.”

  The ladies nod and murmur their approval.

  “Gabby and I got enough Foxglove to fill all of these.” She holds up an orange, plastic bottle. “But someone will have to break into his house and replace all the pills.”

  It may as well be me. I mean, as long as I’m going to prison, anyway. I shrug and raise my hand.

  “No, Candy. He knows you. It’s way too risky.”

  We all glance around at one another. Then, two hands go up at the same time, and we all turn to stare.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Great practice!” Gabby smiles. “I really think we’re going to be ready for the Thanksgiving festival.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Lucy rolls her eyes. “Dave is driving me crazy about hearing us sing. He thinks we’re just sitting over here eating cupcakes and drinking wine all the time.”

  “Well, now, if we’re honest, we do kind of do a lot of that, too.” Jade laughs.

  “Yeah. Maybe. But he doesn’t know that!”

  “Everyone good here? I mean, clear about the plan and what you need to do?” Sami steps between us, wrapping her arm around Jade’s shoulders.

  Our eyes bounce from one to the other as we all nod.

  “Yeah. It’s really pretty simple.” I grab my jacket off the coat hook next to Lora’s door. “At least for me, anyway. I don’t really do anything.”

  “We talked about that, Candy. We can’t take the chance of him recognizing you,” Billie says empathetically. After all, she was in the same boat with Derek. Well, almost. “Besides that, you have one of the most important jobs of all, making sure that Dan knows where you are and what you’re doing the entire time. If he sees you, he won’t suspect you.”

  I wouldn’t be so sure about that. I haven’t told them about the fight or about my confession. I don’t intend to. “I know. It just sucks.”

  “You’ve already done your part, anyway. We couldn’t do any of this without the capsules you got,” Sami adds.

  I nod as I slip out the door, waving to everyone behind me. “See you guys tomorrow!”

  My mood is as dark as the sky on the drive home. At least it’s stopped raining, I console myself.

  Josh was still asleep when I left the house and already long-gone by the time I return, no doubt to Eric’s or some other friend’s house. I let myself in, tossing my jacket on the chair and heading to the bar with my purse and my keys. A sudden high-pitched howl scares the ever-loving shit out of me once again, and I hurl both my purse and my keys in the air as I scream.

  “Goddammit, Rufus! Knock it off!” I spend the next ten minutes crawling around on the floor scooping up all the stray crap that flew out of my purse and skittered across the living room. The last thing I find are my keys, midway under the sofa, no less, and I toss them on the counter as I make my weary way into the kitchen.

  Returning to the living room with some tea a few minutes later, I stop, cocking my head to the side, listening. Nothing. Total quiet. For some reason, I’m strangely bothered by the silence of the house. Because I should be with Dan right now. I find myself wishing that Josh would come home, or that Mrs. Gilmore might visit. Well, I wouldn’t go that far.

  I step out of my shoes, lobbing them behind the chair, and then kick back on the couch. Hm… book or remote? Rufus sits in front of me, his big brown eyes staring expectantly.

  “No treat for you, mister. You’re a bad dog,” I snap. I think he frowns as he skulks away, retreating to the make-shift bed in the corner that Josh apparently made for him. Upon closer inspection, it appears to be the sheets and the pillow that I gave Michael to sleep with the other night. Appropriate, I think.

  I pick up my romance novel from the coffee table. It seems like ages since I started reading this book, and I recall that I had just met Dan the last time I picked it up. I read the first paragraph, imagining Dan as Colin O’Corkin and me as Felonia Appletap. Oh, Dan, my dearest love. Help me, for I may swoon at the sight of your knobby knees in that short skirt. I giggle, wondering if I should stop in next week to see Dr. Taylor for a quick psyche exam.

  A knock on the door brings me back to this century. Fuck. Mrs. Gilmore, I’m sure. I get up and walk grudgingly to the door. Fie
rce watchdog that he is, Rufus accompanies me.

  “What does she want now, Rufus? She’s probably checking to see if you’re a male or a female since we’re alone in here together.”

  I open the door looking less than enthused. “Hello, Mrs. Gil—” I stop and stare in disbelief, tears gathering in my eyes like the storm clouds outside. “Dan.”

  “Hi,” he says, looking undecided, tortured even.

  “Hi.” My thoughts jumble, my stomach lurches, and I, honest to God, begin to swoon. My eyes are starving for the sight him, and they travel up and down his beautiful physique.

  “Can I come in?”

  “Oh! Yes.” I jump into action, stepping aside and opening the door wide. “Please. Come in.”

  I follow him back into the living room, my mind trying to sort through all the crazy thoughts that hit me at once. Does he want me back? Does he want to marry me and have my puppies? Does he want to lock me up until I’m Medicare-eligible?

  “I’m sorry to show up unannounced like this,” he says apologetically.

  “It’s fine. Really.” I wave my hand nonchalantly toward the couch. “I was just read—”

  Ack! I turn bright red as I stare at my well-creased copy of The Epoglonian Highlands lying front-side up on the couch, still warm from my sweaty fingers, and complete with a naked Martian and a man in a mini-skirt. Thank goodness he seems to pay no mind as Rufus demands his attention. He rubs against Dan’s leg, his tail looking like a little high-speed metronome wagging back and forth. I study Rufus’ sweet face. Smiling now. He is definitely smiling.

  Dan bends down and gives Rufus a good scratch behind the ears. “Hey there, buddy. Have you been good? Did you miss me?”

  Yes, I did. I nod, acutely aware that he isn’t speaking to me. Maybe he’s come to forgive me? Dare I hope?

  He stands back up to face me, his eyes shifting slowly around the room, never still and never lighting on me except in passing. I can’t stand the awkward silence any longer.

  “Dan,” I blurt. “I’m so s—”

  “Listen,” he interrupts. “I’m here because I just got the results from the lab. The analysis on the second body…”

  I nod, afraid to speak, still smarting from the scathing rebuke this morning and the rather obvious intimation to shut-up again just now. I mean, of course he’s here by necessity and not by choice. He’s made it painfully clear that he doesn’t want to be anywhere near me anymore. He can’t even stand to look at me.

  “You were right. It’s Juliet Donovan.”

  I blink at him, not sure how I’m supposed to react. It’s not like we can use any of it to punish Mr. Stratford. Well, it’s not like ‘he’ can. I damn sure can, and I will. But, with Mr. Donovan gone, and her brother being a Class-A dickweed, who can I even share the news with? Besides the girls, who would even care about poor Juliet Donovan?

  “I just thought you should know,” he says, his eyes fixed on the floor. Then, he glances up. “Thank you for sharing your suspicions with me. If you hadn’t, we might never have found out who she was.”

  “Thank you for telling me.” I stare into his cool, blue eyes, hopeful and apologetic. He looks away again quickly.

  “Oh, and, I wondered if I could go ahead and take Rufus home,” he says, ripping out my heart and stomping on it. “I miss the little shit.”

  I swallow the lump in my throat and try to smile. “Of course you can. He misses you, too.” And, so do I.

  He bends over, scooping up Rufus and tucking him under arm as he strokes his soft, velvet ears.

  “I’ll go gather his stuff for you.”

  Defeated, I begin collecting all of Rufus’ toys and treats throughout the living room, stuffing them into the little doggy travel bag that Dan brought over last night. Then, I head into the kitchen and grab his food.

  “There’s not a lot left in here,” I announce as I return, shaking the near-empty bag of food for effect.

  I stop short as Dan sinks into my armchair, leaning over, his forearms on his thighs as he rubs his hands together and stares solemnly at his feet.

  Is this good or bad? I say nothing for a minute.

  “Dan?”

  Slowly, he raises his head and looks at me. His eyes are red, tortured. “You lied to me.”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “How can I ever trust you again?”

  I wilt beneath his gaze. What can I even say in my defense?

  “And, what about my job? Do you expect me to ignore this? Just sweep it under the rug like it never happened?”

  I just stand there, torn. What can I say that will make it better? Nothing.

  “I don’t expect anything, Dan. Nothing at all. I love you, and I felt you had a right to know. I wanted to give you my heart, my whole heart, clean and with a clear conscience. That’s all.”

  He stares at me, his gunmetal eyes guarding his feelings like a precious treasure.

  “Please, Dan. I know I don’t deserve you, but please. Forgive me.” I resort to pleading. Screw my pride. If I need to get on my hands and knees and beg, I’m down for it. I don’t want to go through another day like this.

  “Don’t.” He looks sick. “I need you to tell me what happened. Everything. Every detail.”

  Oh, shit. I can’t. I stare back at him, my jaw locked, panic traveling through me like wildfire. “I… I can’t.”

  He stands up to leave.

  “Wait!” I spring forward, throwing myself at his mercy and gripping his arm, my eyes wild and pleading. “I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you everything I can.”

  But, will it be enough?

  He thinks about it for a second and then, slowly, he sits back down.

  I release my breath, having apparently been holding it for quite some time now. I wonder if that’s not why I’m dizzy.

  I sit down on the couch across from him, my hands folded neatly in my lap as I carefully consider what I can and cannot say. I avoid his eyes when I’m ready to speak, gazing at a spot on the wall somewhere above his shoulder. I feel his eyes boring a hole straight through me.

  I clear my throat and begin. “I learned about Derek Hines from a … from someone I know.”

  “Billie Shaw,” he mumbles.

  I ignore him and continue. “I know you know Derek was a cop, a highly decorated cop, at that, and I think you’ve figured out by now that he was also dirty. Very dirty. He was selling drugs and running rackets for some really bad men here in town, pushing steroids and heroin. I don’t even know what all. Even that, I could have lived with. But not the other.”

  I pause, a wave of nausea rising up in my belly. “He was sick, Dan. Twisted sick. I would even say evil. He started out hurting girls, young girls, raping and torturing them, and then cutting on them with his hunting knife. But, after a while, that wasn’t even enough to satisfy him. He started killing them after he raped them, choking them to death, and then signing the bodies by carving a symbol and a number into their chests.”

  “Christ, Candy. We knew about that, about the bodies. Why didn’t you just come forward if you knew it was him?”

  “I couldn’t, Dan. He would have killed us. I mean, me. He would have killed me,” I correct myself. “He had contacts everywhere, eyes and ears all over town. He knew a lot of people, people in really high places, like judges and stuff. People in really low places, too, like Albus Gray.”

  Dan shakes his head, cursing.

  “No accusations and no charges would have ever stuck to him, and you know it. Even if they had, it wouldn’t have done a bit of good. He would have killed me before I could testify. Or had me killed. There was nothing I could do.”

  I take a deep breath and look at him, my soul obviously tormented, wearing my despair like a thorny crown. “He was simply… untouchable.”

  Dan stares at me quietly, contemplating my words, contemplating our future.

  “Did you kill him?” he finally asks point blank, no holds-barred, no bullshit.

  I look down, con
sidering. “More or less. In truth, it was an accident.” I raise my eyes to his, inviting him to see the love and the honesty reflected in them. “But, I would have. I most assuredly intended to.”

  He studies me for a good minute, and then looks back down at his feet where Rufus lies snoring. He drops his hand, stroking him, lost in thought.

  He says nothing, so I continue. “He raped that little girl and cut her up. Then, he buried her in a swamp beneath a bunch of brush and trash. She was there for days, all alone in the dark at night, bugs and animals eating at her little body. And, her parents…” I choke back a sob. “She was only six-years-old.”

  “I remember,” he whispers.

  His phone rings, and he digs it out of his pocket. “Cole.”

  I sit quietly wondering whether I’ve given him enough to arrest me, forgive me, or leave me forever.

  “When?” Dan’s voice is sharp and commanding, and draws my attention. “Where did it happen?”

  Oh, no.

  “Well, who the hell was watching him?” He pauses and then explodes. “Goddammit, Jason. I told you not to let him out of your sight. It doesn’t matter how long you guys were gone. It only takes a few minutes, as you can damn-well see. Do not move. Do you understand? I’m on my way.”

  He lowers his hand to his lap, clutching the phone as he stares blankly into space. “He took another one.”

  “Oh my God, Dan. No.”

  He nods slowly. “A six-year-old over in Charlotte Heights. Snatched her a few hours ago as she was walking to school.”

  I gasp, clapping my hand over my mouth. “Amelia’s age,” I blurt.

  Why did I say that out loud? He’s obviously devastated already. What the fuck is wrong with me? “I’m sorry, Dan. I didn’t mean to say that. I wasn’t even thinking.”

  “It’s okay. I was already thinking it.” His voice is shaky. Then, a switch flips, and he’s full of rage. “He won’t get away with it this time. I swear. I’ll make damn sure of it.”