by Dee Ernst
“Why, no. Do you think it’s important?” Lillian asked.
“If it is,” Jack said, “Ellie can tell him. Spice up the pillow talk, right Ellie?”
“Oh, Jack,” I sputtered, while Lillian swatted his arm with multiple shushes.
I stepped back. “Yes, I’ll be sure to tell him. Well, good night.”
I practically ran back to the street and up to my own house. I had my phone out before I got to the porch. “Sam, I just stopped at the Olsen’s.”
He chuckled. “Didn’t you trust me?”
“Of course. But here’s the thing. They saw Sharon.”
“What?” he asked sharply. “Where?”
“Up at the clubhouse. Before Rita got there. They’d forgotten.”
“Listen to me, Ellie, I—”
Someone jerked the phone away from my ear. I whirled, and there was Sharon Butler, holding my phone, shaking her head. She turned my phone off and set it carefully on the railing. “Oh, Ellie, what have you done now?”
She looked very sad. “Ellie, was that your boyfriend on the phone?”
I nodded. “Yes.” My voice came out as a croak. Her hands were empty. She had no weapon with which to hurt me, but then, she was used to improvisation. She could probably kill me with my potted plant.
She shook her head. “Then I guess we don’t have much time.”
I cleared my throat. “For what?”
She sighed. Deeply. “What else were you going to tell him?”
“Nothing he didn’t already know,” I said. I was a terrible liar, but since my voice was shaking anyway, she might not be able to tell. “You killed Rita.”
She opened my front screen door. “Let’s go inside and talk about this.”
Boot ran out, barking. She even looked slightly fierce. Sharon just smiled at her, and I went into the house, and Sharon walked in behind me.
There was one room on the first floor with a lock, and that was the powder room behind the stairs. All I had to do was cut left, leap over the couch, and skirt the bookcase by the stairs. I knew that Sharon was pretty fit. She may have had weight issues, but I’d never seen her out of breath, and I was fairly certain she could grab me and throw me down without breaking a sweat.
“You killed Rita,” I repeated. “Why?
She looked close to tears. “Because she saw me bury Walter.”
“Walter Malleck? You killed Walt too?”
“No, of course not. David did. But I buried the body, and she saw me. She said so right here, remember? I couldn’t have her tell anyone, not after keeping David’s secret for so long.” She was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace. “Why did she have to say that? She never should have opened her mouth.”
Oh, poor Rita. Her attempt at a joke had made her Sharon’s target.
“Sharon.” I was trying very hard to keep my voice even, but my adrenaline had kicked in, and I was practically jumping out of my skin. “Why did David kill Walter Malleck?” I had made my way to the end of the couch, but she was watching me closely.
“It was an accident. No, not an accident, exactly but David never meant to kill Walter. He loved him. But Walt was ending it, and David got upset, and they argued, and Walt was walking away, and David picked up the shovel and hit him. He was angry. He just wanted to keep him from leaving.” She ran her hands through her perfectly blown-out hair. “He wanted to go to the police, but what if he was sent to jail? We were going to be married. I couldn’t let him go to jail.” She looked at me, desperation in her eyes. “I was the fat girl in high school. David was the only boy who was nice to me. I loved him. I knew he was gay, but I didn’t care. I loved him. And who else would love me? I had to save him.”
“So you buried Walter?”
She nodded. “Yes. I did it in the middle of the night. It was awful, and his body…” She grew very still. “I can’t have you telling my secret.”
“The Olsen’s saw you go to the clubhouse, Sharon. Sam will figure it out.” I had a sudden picture flash through my mind of Sharon, coming to my house on Saturday afternoon. “Your shirt. The linen thing you were wearing on Saturday. You wiped off the oar with the hem, didn’t you? That’s why it was all twisted. They found fibers. They’ll put you at the crime scene. I won’t have to tell anybody anything.”
Boot was barking again. She had been left out on the porch, and I recognized her happy bark. Somebody I knew was coming. Let it be Sam, let it be Sam…
Sharon picked up the poker by the fireplace. Her face was calm, almost peaceful. But I saw her eyes, and there was a spark of madness there. I told myself she wouldn’t kill me here in my own home, that she wouldn’t take that risk. But she had killed Rita and dragged her body from the clubhouse to the dock even though anyone might have seen her. She didn’t care much about risk.
I took a few steps toward the stairs. “Sam is coming, you know,” I told her.
“So?” She moved closer to me, the poker hanging loosely in her hand. “Where do you think you’re going, Ellie?”
She moved so quickly I barely had time to react. She swung the poker hard, and I felt it hit my shoulder as I ducked. I rolled behind the couch and struggled to my feet, but she was right behind me, I could feel her, and I was afraid to look because I didn’t want to see it, the poker, as it came down on me…
“Sharon? What the hell are you doing?”
Boot was running around the couch, barking like a mad thing. Sharon had looked away, toward Shelly’s voice, and I reached up and grabbed the poker. She pulled back hard, and I fell against her, and the two of us crashed into the side table, the lamp hitting the floor as we wrestled for the poker. Shelly was screaming, and Sharon and I were on the floor. She was on top of me, and the poker we were both holding was pressed hard against my chest. I’ll never live through this, I thought wildly. She’ll crush me to death. And then I saw Viv Brewster, standing over Sharon’s shoulder, holding the fallen lamp in both hands and swinging it hard against the back of Sharon’s head.
Sharon stopped struggling and lay still on top of me. I made a giant effort to push her off me, and then sat up, breathing hard. Boot was in my face, licking me, tail thumping wildly. Viv and Shelly stood together, looking down. I could hear sirens.
“You okay?” Viv asked.
I nodded and took Shelly’s hand, and she pulled me to my feet.
“She killed Rita,” I said. I was finding it hard to catch my breath.
Viv took my arm and led me to the couch. “Sit. Put your head between you knees. Now, just breathe deep.”
I did as she said. The sirens were louder now, and my living room was suddenly crowded. Boot was barking hysterically. I looked up and grabbed her, holding her on my lap as the room filled with officers in blue. Shelly was sitting next to me, and Viv was talking to one of the policemen. My shoulder hurt. I could feel across my chest where the poker had been pressed against my flesh. Then I saw Sam hurrying through the front door. He gave me one look, and his shoulders slumped, and he shook his head.
He knelt in front of me. “Are you okay?”
I nodded.
His hands were on my face, wiping tears I didn’t realize I was shedding. “Good. You cannot do this again. Ever. You’re killing me, Ellie, you really are.”
I nodded again, pulled Boot even closer, and sat back, eyes closed.
The police were still there when Cait came home. She sat beside me, tight lipped, and listened to the whole story. When I was done I could see her jaw clenched so tight I thought her teeth were going to shatter.
“What if Tessa had been home?” she asked. “What would have happened?”
I had been successfully avoiding that thought for hours, and hearing her say it brought another wave of anxiety and fear.
“I know, Cait. I know. This was just…who knew Sharon would come here?”
“Why did you have to butt in in the first place?” Cait asked, her voice getting louder and shriller. “That crazy woman almost strangled you last time.
What is wrong with you?”
Shelly put her arm around Cait’s shoulders. “Everything turned out fine, honey. Really.”
Cait turned to her, her face flushed with anger. “This is not her job. It’s not yours either. Are you encouraging her?” She got up and glared at Sam. “Are you?”
Sam shook his head. “No, Caitlyn, I told your mother to stay out. She just has a habit of…attracting the wrong sort of attention.”
She stormed upstairs. I could hear her door slam.
“She’s just upset,” Viv said. “She loves you.”
“I know.” I covered my face with my hands. I had never felt so tired in my whole life.
Sharon had come around, saw the police surrounding her, got up calmly, and proceeded to tell Sam everything. He read her her rights and asked her repeatedly if she wanted a lawyer, but she insisted on going on. The words came out in a rush, like a great unburdening.
Walt had seduced David. David told Sharon what had happened. Sharon had already planned her life around David and could only watch helplessly as he became more involved with the older man. And then, one night, they fought. Walter was ending it. They quarreled in the house, Walter walked out into the yard, and David followed him. He grabbed the shovel and hit Walt in a rage.
Then he went to Sharon.
They dragged the body back into the house, and Sharon returned the next night to bury Walter Malleck. But for months she worried that Paula would find the body, so she finally started a fire in the garbage cans and watched as the house burned to the ground.
Sharon and David got married. They stayed in Mt. Abrams. They had a son. And then Sharon heard Rita talk about who she saw digging in the Malleck’s yard.
“But she was just joking,” I blurted. “Rita didn’t really see anything.”
Sharon sighed. “How do you know, Ellie? How could I know? After all that time, I certainly wasn’t going to take any chances.”
The house was finally quiet. Sam was gone. He had Sharon to process at the station. And David.
Shelly, Viv, and I sat in front of the fireplace. The poker had been put back in its place. I stared at it while Shelly poured some wine.
“Drink, Ellie. It will help you sleep.”
“Thank God you came,” I finally said. “Thank you.”
“Thank Viv here for insisting on coming along. I probably would have just stood there and screamed while she crushed the life out of you.”
I looked at Viv and smiled. “You were pretty awesome,” I said.
She smiled. “I usually am. You gonna be okay tonight? Is Sam coming back?”
I nodded.
“Okay then. Shelly, you ready to go?”
“Sure am. I’ll call you in the morning, okay Ellie?”
I nodded, and they let themselves out. I sat for a few more minutes and heard Cait coming down the stairs.
She sat next to me, picked up the wine bottle, and drank directly from it. “I’m sorry for what I said.”
“I know.”
“I was upset.”
“You had a right to be.”
She drank again. “I’m not going to France.”
I turned and looked at her. “Because of Kyle?”
She shrugged. “Partly. I have a chance to teach French at the Montessori school if I tell them I’ll go for my teaching certificate.”
“That would be exciting.”
“Yes.”
She pointed her finger at me. “And someone has to keep an eye on you. A woman your age should not be getting herself into this kind of trouble.”
“My age?”
“Yes, Mother. At your particular time of life, you should be taking things slower, not throwing yourself in front of every homicidal maniac in the state.”
“You make it sound like I’m a doddering old lady.”
“You’re not. But you need to stop doing crazy shit if you ever hope to become one.”
Boot pawed my leg. I started scratching her ears. “I know, Cait. I really do.”
We were silent for a few more minutes.
“Daddy wants the two of you to get back together.”
I drained my wine. “I know that too. He should not be talking to you about that.”
“I told him that. I think he was expecting me to be on his side.”
“You aren’t?” I asked, surprised.
She shrugged. “He left us. That’s hard to forget.”
“Yes, it is.”
She stood up and stretched. “Are you coming up?”
I shook my head and took the wine bottle from her hand. “Sam is coming back.”
“I like him.”
I smiled. “Me too.”
She bent down to kiss me. “Love you. G’night.”
“Night, baby.”
I poured another glass of wine and sat with Boot, staring at the empty fireplace, until Sam came through the door.
Also by Dee Ernst
Am I Zen Yet
Better Than Your Dreams
A Slight Change of Plan
A Different Kind of Forever
Better Off Without Him
MORE MT. ABRAMS MYSTERIES
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