Torch Scene

by Renee Pawlish

  I rang the bell and waited. The dog’s yippy bark grew louder and then the porch light came on, causing me to blink. I’m sure Nadine was scrutinizing me through the peephole. Then I heard her scold the dog, and the door opened.

  She wore a silk robe and slippers, the robe open to reveal enough cleavage to inspire curiosity, but not enough to tempt lust outright.

  “Don’t you think it’s a little late?” she asked, her lips puckered.

  “We need to talk,” I said, ignoring the sexual vibe.

  “I don’t suppose this is a social call.”

  I shook my head. She let out a disappointed sigh and then stepped aside. I walked in and she shut the door.

  “Come into the living room.”

  The dog was at her heels as I followed her down the hall.

  “What’s this all about?” she asked as she headed for the credenza and a Scotch bottle. As she fixed a drink, she asked, “You asked about art. What’s next? How we entertained ourselves?”

  “Your debt,” I said.

  She turned around, took a sip of her drink, and gave me a puzzled look. “Yes?”

  “How much was it?”

  “I don’t see how that’s your business.” She sipped again, then tipped the glass at me. “Where are my manners? Do you want a drink?”

  “No.” I fixed her with a hard glare. “You had a lot of debt, and you were trying to work with Nick to get him to pay it off.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll bet a nice insurance policy would take care of that debt.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “You’re the beneficiary of Nick’s life insurance policy.”

  The drink stopped halfway to her mouth. “How do you know that?”

  “I dug into his financial records.”

  “How did you get access to that?”

  Why does everyone want to know that? I waved a dismissive hand. “It doesn’t matter. The point is, you benefit – greatly – from Nick’s death.”

  The color drained from her face. “You think I killed Nick for the insurance money?”

  “You were seen arguing with Nick in the weeks prior to his death. You said you have a ton of debt, and that you hated him. If you kill him, you get the money. Sounds like a way out to me.”

  She gaped at me, then threw her head back and laughed, a bawdy sound that raked through the room.

  “Oh, that is rich.” She set the drink down. “I killed Nick?”

  I waited, wondering who the fool was. Her, for thinking this act would cover her tracks. Or me, for thinking she killed Nick.

  “Darling, you’ve got it all wrong.” She set the drink down and continued. “I’m sure Nick’s neighbors saw us arguing. I couldn’t be around that man without it turning into a fight. And I’m sure the fight that sticks in the minds of your neighbors is when Nick told me that he’d forgotten to change his policy. He exploded when I laughed at him for being so stupid, and then he threatened to kill me for laughing at him. Of course, I got bent out of shape about that.” She laughed again. “What an idiot Nick was. He could’ve cashed in the policy and used the money to get out of debt, but he’d forgotten he even had it until shortly before he died.” She snickered. “Although he would’ve just used the money for gambling. What an idiot.”

  I was taken aback. I looked around the room, my mind racing.

  She came up and patted my cheek. “Darling, I can’t believe you think I killed Nick. The only person I told about the insurance policy was –”

  “Ken,” I finished. The pieces suddenly fell into place. “Ken’s ex-military.”

  She nodded. “Army.”

  “AFD. That was on his socks.”

  “What?”

  “AFD,” I repeated. “Army Fire Department.”

  “Yes, he was with the fire department, and he was in some kind of Special Forces or something.” She waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t pay attention to that stuff.”

  Ken was Special Forces and a fireman as well. One who, I suspected, knew about how to set fires and plant bombs. And Nadine had said he needed money. So he kills Nick, and by the time the insurance policy pays out, he’s married to Nadine. Money troubles over. I glanced down at my burned arm. When I first met him, he had that bandage on his arm. A burn?

  She gazed at me, confused. “What?”

  I grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the door. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  “Too late,” said a voice behind us.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Ken came into the room, in his jeans, blue tee shirt, and light jacket. A smile was etched on his too-perfect face. And a big gun in his too-perfect hand. I was sure he knew how to use it, too.

  “Darling, what’s going on?” Nadine asked him, her voice puzzled. “What’s with that ridiculous thing in your hand?”

  “He’s going to kill us,” I murmured.

  She was still clueless. “Why?”

  He stared at her. “Because your detective friend knows I’m the one who killed Nick.”

  “You? Whatever for?”

  I resisted the urge to throw up my hands. Jeez, did we have to explain everything? “Because you’re the beneficiary of Nick’s life insurance policy,” I said. “He kills Nick and by the time the policy pays out, you’re married and he gets his hands on the money.” I turned to him. “What’s your deal?”

  It was his turn for a blank look. “Huh?”

  “Why are you so desperate for money?”

  The smile grew wider, but now with a perverse twist that ruined its perfection. “I like nice things, and they cost money. And I’ve got an image to keep up, for the ladies. Tack on some bad investments and I was in real trouble. This one,” he gestured at Nadine, “wanted me to wine and dine her, even though I didn’t have the money, and I was about to cut her loose when she came home laughing about how Nick still had her as the beneficiary on his life insurance policy.” He shook his head in awe. “It couldn’t have been more perfect.”

  “Yeah, it sure seemed that way,” I said. “Only I figured it out.”

  The smile faded. “A bit too late, don’t you think?”

  Nadine finally regained her faculties. “Ken, put down that gun this instant.”

  “No, darling.” He mocked her sultry tone. “You may have been able to order me around before, but not anymore.”

  “What?” She covered her mouth for a second, shocked. “How dare you. And what do you mean you were going to dump me?”

  He snorted. “You are way too high maintenance. Good in the sack, but not for much else.”

  She emitted a sound that was a cross between a gasp and a cry, full of indignation. “How dare you!” she repeated.

  “You give yourself too much credit,” he continued. “Why would I want to be saddled with your debt and mine? You’ve got your looks, babe, but not much else.”

  “Don’t say that,” she said with a wounded tone. “We can work this out Ken, darling.”

  “It’s over.”

  My cell phone vibrated and I surreptitiously reached into my pocket. I was sure it was Cal, calling me back with information about Nadine’s finances. If I could answer it, maybe he could hear our conversation and call in the Cavalry.

  “Hey!” Ken aimed the gun at me. “Take your hand out, slowly.”

  Damn! Not surreptitiously enough, I chided myself.

  “Relax,” I said. “It’s only my phone.” I pulled out the phone and he snatched it from me and tossed it across the room. He eyed me carefully. “And the gun.” I tried not to show my disappointment as I took the Glock from the holster. He grabbed that as well and stuffed it into the waist of his jeans.

  He stepped back and gestured with the gun. “Let’s go.”

  “Where?” she said.

  “The basement.” We apparently didn’t move fast enough because he snarled and said, “Move!”

  Nadine leaped forward with me right behind her. I wondered if I could slug him as I stepped by,
but he backpedaled out of reach. Maybe I could get him distracted and then I could make a play for him.

  “So how’d you kill Nick?” I asked as we headed down the hall to a stairwell. Nadine opened the door and headed down. I followed, with Ken back far enough that I couldn’t trip him.

  “When Nadine came home and told me about the policy, I saw my chance to get in on some cash. Of course she was her typical snide self and she insulted Nick, and after that, there was no way he’d forget about changing the policy, so I knew I had to act fast before he did. I figured I could start a fire to cover the murder, so I watched his apartment. I had to wait for a few days until there was a time when your girlfriend was with you, and that lady on the second floor was gone.”

  I was halfway down the basement stairs, but I stopped to look back at him. “Why?”

  “I didn’t want a triple murder on my hands.” He said it as if it was so obvious.

  “Oh, that makes perfect sense,” I said sarcastically. “One murder, no problem. Two murders, maybe. But three? Now that would just be wrong!”

  He glared at me, then continued. He was in a talkative mood. “One night, the opportunity presented itself. I went up to his apartment and knocked on the door. He was surprised to see me, but he let me in. I said I was there because Nadine had a question about one of their creditors, but she didn’t want to talk to him in person. When he turned around, I hit him with a wrench. Knocked him out. I started the fire to cover my tracks. Then you came along and screwed up my perfect plan.”

  We’d reached the basement. It was unfinished, with concrete walls, exposed ceiling joists and insulation pressed between them. To our right, a pool table sat in the middle of the room, and a poker table with folding chairs was in the corner.

  “To the left,” he ordered.

  We ended up in an open room that had an old couch against one wall with a cheap coffee table sitting in front of it, folded cardboard boxes stacked in a corner, and other junk. I glanced around nervously. Plenty of fuel to help a fire burn well, if he was thinking of covering his tracks again. Nadine was on autopilot, not saying a word, her body listless.

  “Your plan wasn’t so perfect,” I went on. Keep him talking. “You spilled accelerant.”

  He glared at me. “You’re pretty mouthy.”

  “Yeah, and you made mistakes.”

  “What mistakes?”

  “The spilled accelerant, for one.”

  “Yeah.” He exhaled in frustration. “I thought Nick was out cold, but he jerked awake. Kicked the bottle of accelerant out of my hands. I had to hit him again and then I put him on the bed.”

  “And the fire didn’t burn fast enough,” I said. “They still would’ve found out Nick had been murdered.”

  He shrugged.

  “How’d you burn your arm?”

  He touched it. “Spilled some accelerant on my coat and when I started the fire, it ignited. Go figure.”

  “Another mistake.”

  His eyes flared.

  Something else dawned on me. The person that night outside Willie’s house, and the eerie feeling I’d had when I came home from B 52’s. “You’ve been following me.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Once you started investigating things, I had to get you out of the way.”

  “But what about bombing my car?” I cocked an eyebrow at him. “You didn’t kill me.”

  He lips twisted into a crooked line. “Yeah, I had that bomb on a timer. I wanted it to blow up in the street, so it wouldn’t damage the garage.”

  “You are such a thoughtful arsonist.”

  I got another glare. He was trying hard to control his anger. “I’m not a pyromaniac, I just wanted you out of the way.”

  “Sure,” I said. “But like I said, you failed, because I’m here.”

  “Uh,” he pointed at me with the gun. “You’re the one about to die.”

  Good point.

  “But what about the policy?” I asked. “If you kill Nadine, you won’t get the money.”

  His face reddened with anger. “Like I said, you screwed things up, and I can’t get the money now. And it’s time for you to pay for that.”

  He jerked his head toward the couch. “Sit down.”

  We shuffled over and sat down. Ken pulled some silver duct tape from his jacket pocket and handed it to Nadine. She looked at it, then at him.

  “What?” she mumbled.

  “Tape his hands, tight,” he said. He focused on me. “Hands behind your back. No tricks.”

  I did as instructed. Nadine fumbled with the tape, but finally managed to wrap it around my wrists. I tried to leave some space between my wrists, but it didn’t work. I couldn’t move my arms.

  “Now his legs.”

  She looped tape around my ankles and I was securely trussed up. Ken grabbed my arm and yanked me to one end of the couch. Then he returned to Nadine and taped her up. When he finished, he stood back and surveyed his handiwork.

  “That should keep you out of my hair,” he said.

  “Darling, what are you going to doing?” Nadine whispered.

  “Well,” he said too casually, “since this yahoo ruined my plans, and I can’t get the money anymore, I thought I’d have a little fun.”

  “Fun?” She wailed. “How is tying us up fun?”

  “This is just the start,” he said. “I’m going to set this house on fire. Only,” he narrowed his eyes at me, “this time I’m not going to make any mistakes. This place is going to burn to the ground.”

  “I thought you weren’t a pyromaniac,” I said.

  He moved like lightning, striking me with the gun. I groaned, feeling blood flow from my forehead. He bent down, his face in mine. “I’m going to enjoy watching this place burn, knowing you’re in here. Or maybe I’ll set you on fire first, let you feel the flames burning your flesh. Once your screams are finished, then I’ll set the house on fire. It’ll be the perfect fire. And you won’t be able to screw it up.”

  Oops, I’d gone too far. He had crossed over, the lunacy evident in his demeanor.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Nadine said.

  He patted his coat pocket and pulled out a lighter. “Well, I don’t want to go to prison, so yeah, I kind of do.”

  “They’ll find you,” I said.

  “By the time they figure out you’re in here, I’ll be long gone.” He squatted down and checked the tape. Satisfied that I was secure, he stood up.

  “Don’t try anything,” he said. “I’ve got work to do upstairs, but I’ll be back down in a little bit.” His eyes roved around the room and then toward the ceiling. “With a little help, this place’ll go up in flames pretty quickly.”

  With that, he stalked away. We heard his footsteps thudded up the stairs and faded away.

  “What now?” Nadine asked.

  I was out of suggestions.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “This is just great,” she snapped a moment later. “I can’t believe you thought I would do all that stuff.”

  “Ten seconds ago, you don’t know what to say and now you’re attacking me?” I flung back. I tried to pull my wrists apart, but only succeeded in causing a sharp pain in my shoulders. I sighed. She was right. She might be capable of knocking out Nick and starting the fire in his apartment, but how would she know how to set the bomb in my car? That was far less likely. I was too frustrated, and too tired. I was making mistakes, and it could cost me my life and Nadine’s.

  “I’m sorry,” I said softly.

  Nadine glanced at me. “What?”

  “I should’ve known it was Ken.”

  “So should I.”

  Something thumped upstairs. He was moving around up there.

  “You really know how to pick ’em,” I said.

  “Shut up,” she muttered, then burst into tears. Not so femme fatale right there.

  “Stop that,” I chided her. Blood ran into my eye and I leaned over and wiped my head on the couch.

  “Oh, nice,”
she said.

  I ignored her. “We have to figure a way out of this.”

  “How?”

  “Can you move your arms or legs?”

  She shook her head. “This tape is on tight.”

  “Maybe we can pull it off.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “It’s worth a try,” I said. I rolled over on the couch toward her. “Come on, turn around.”

  She exhaled dramatically, then turned over so her back was to me. I sidled on down until we were back to back.

  “Reach for the tape,” I said. I wiggled my fingers.

  A second later, I felt her fingers touch mine. She groped around and found the tape.

  “Try pulling on it,” I said.

  “I’m trying,” she said with a whine.

  She tugged at the tape. “Maybe if I can find the end…” Her fingers explored around, then she tried tugging again. “It’s no use,” she finally said. “I can’t get it.”

  “Let me try yours.” I felt for the tape on her wrists, feeling like a blind man reading Braille. I ran my hands over the tape, feeling for the edge. I found it and tried to pinch it between my thumb and index fingers. “I can almost get it,” I muttered.

  “Almost isn’t good enough.”

  “Lay off me,” I growled. I kept at the edge but couldn’t get a grip on it. I cursed, then tried grabbing the tape and pulling.

  “Ow!” she yelped.

  I let go. “Sorry.”

  “Oh, this is useless.”

  The couch jarred. I cranked my head around and saw that she’d planted her face into the cushions.

  Footsteps pounded above us.

  “He’s coming back,” I hissed. “Get back where you were.”

  She turned back around and I rolled to the other end of the couch. I was breathing hard as Ken came down the stairs and into the room.

  “Everybody’s still here,” he said a little too cheerily.

  “Where would we go?” I asked.

  He studied us. “You look a little flushed.” He wagged a finger back and forth. “You two getting it on down here?”

  “Oh please,” Nadine said. “With him?”