by Dale Mayer
“Aha. I was right. Why you weaselly greedy lazy …” Words failed her then. “Why couldn’t you have found another way. You didn’t have to kill him.”
“I’m not talking to you anymore. If you want information, I want a deal.” He stiffened his back and stuck his nose in the air.
Like she hadn’t seen the best of the snobs do that. He couldn’t even begin to pull off that maneuver. “I can’t give you a deal, and I doubt even the cops will give it to you. Why should they? You’re just another no-good greedy killer who couldn’t be bothered to get a real job.” She gave him a big fat smile. “That’s okay. I think prison will give you a job, so you can finally work for a living.”
“I’ll give you the other killer,” he cried out desperately. “Then I can walk free.”
“You just admitted to killing all these people.” She shook her head. “Why would you go free?”
“I didn’t admit to anything. I had nothing to do with any of this, but I know someone who’s way worse than I am,” he blustered. “Why the hell couldn’t you just go away and leave me alone?”
“Why couldn’t you have looked after your sisters?” she countered, hating that it was all about money.
“Is money what this is all about?” he asked, relaxing, as if seeing a way out of his corner. “Fine, I’ll give them some money.”
“You realize they’re both working as nannies. Unpaid but for their room and board. They can’t even have a cell phone of their own, and they get only fifty dollars for gas. That’s it.”
He stared at her. “Is that even legal?” he asked in amusement. “I knew they were losers but to end up there …” He just shook his head, pissing her off more.
“All you had to do was treat them like people, and they would have been happy. You even have that spare house on the property.”
“They used to live there,” he admitted.
“Why did you kick them out?”
“I was afraid they’d find out, figure it out,” he snapped. “If they are anything like me, they’d have stuck their nose into my business and found out what I was up to. I couldn’t have that. I risked too much for this.”
“And you’d throw another killer under the bus to keep it?”
“Absolutely. Deal?” he asked, looking at her hopefully. “It’s about Fred and Frank. They are the killers.”
“Bingo,” she whispered under her breath.
Chapter 32
Tuesday Evening …
“But then, like you said, you can’t make that kind of a deal.” Jude nodded, but he glanced about in the growing gloom as the sun sank around them, as if his mind spun with options.
“Maybe the cops will make you a deal though. Fred and Frank, huh?”
But he clammed up and shrugged his shoulders, an insolent look shifting across his features. Not liking Jude’s assessing gaze, Doreen could only hope Richard had contacted Mack. As she studied Jude, she said, “Did you have to kill your girlfriend?”
“She was breaking up with me,” he said absentmindedly. “At the time I wasn’t thinking of my father. But, once it worked so well with her, and my father being old, I knew it would work well with him.”
“So you killed her, then realized you wouldn’t get her money, so you came home to make sure you got something. But instead of being happy with half of it, you had to change the will so you got all of it.”
“What can I say?” he said. “I got greedy.”
“You’re no happier,” she said quietly. “In fact, I can’t see that you’re happy at all. You’ve got nobody who cares about you, nobody who wants to be with you. You don’t seem to have any friends.”
“That’s a problem,” he said. “When you don’t have money, you collect friends who do have money, so you hopefully don’t have to pay for everything, and so you can get something from them. But, when you do have money, you know that’s what other people are like, so you stay away from people because all they’re after is your money.”
“Wow. What a horrid way to look at money, friends, life, all the while living your life that way.” Then Doreen laughed. “It’s almost like karma got you. And you’ve got to watch it because, when she comes around, she bites you in the butt.”
“What does this have to do with Frank or Fred anyway?”
“Oh, I have a pretty good idea,” she said, “but it’ll take a little more to figure this out.”
He groaned. “What’s this got to do with you? What’s your price? How much to make you go away? Or to have you at least disappear long enough for me to sell up and move?”
“You’re talking to the wrong person,” she said, as she watched Mack come around the side of her house. “Because really, when you kill people, you can’t walk away free and clear.”
“I didn’t kill anybody,” he protested.
“Paying ten grand a head to get medication to induce a heart attack is killing,” she said. “I’m sorry you seem to be so disassociated from the reality of your actions.”
“You called my contact, didn’t you?” He glared at her in disbelief. “What a bleeding nosy busybody you are.”
Doreen shrugged. “We had to confirm the price. I mean, everybody’s got somebody they’d like to get rid of for ten thousand dollars. It’s just most people don’t actually do it. They have more morals than to kill somebody for that paltry amount of money.”
“It’s the only money I had, and he was the cheapest I could find,” he snapped. “Like you said, everybody has somebody they’d like to get rid of.”
“And, of course, a fake will helped too, didn’t it?”
“That was my lawyer’s idea, something to add to the pot. He didn’t see why I should only get half.”
“And this is, of course, your new lawyer.”
“Yeah, he knows my hitman too. The thing is, you either take the money I’m offering you, or I end up paying another ten grand,” he said with a wave of his hand. “With the money I’ve got, I can wipe out this town.”
“And you think nobody will notice?” Doreen said with a smile because, of course, Mack was now listening with two cops behind him.
“I don’t give a shit,” he said. “Ten thousand to get rid of anybody you don’t like—that’s cheap.”
“Well, it’s thirty if they don’t have a heart condition,” she said, “and you can bet I don’t have a heart condition.”
“I’ll pay thirty grand to get rid of you anytime,” he sneered.
“Too bad,” she said, “because you can’t do that now.”
“Oh, yes, I can.” He turned but still stared at her.
“I wouldn’t sleep at night if I were you. I’ll just arrange one time to make sure you never wake up. You won’t know when, so you will spend your life looking over your shoulder.”
“Maybe you should look over your shoulder now?” Mack asked, his arms across his chest, the two cops at his side.
Jude spun around to see the cops, then looked back at Doreen.
All three men watched Jude, and Mack said, “By the way, you’re under arrest.”
Doreen shrugged. “You know what? You really have a big mouth. All you had to do was be a nice guy, share the money with your sisters, and you could have kept your half.”
“You,” he snapped, “will pay for this.”
“Maybe,” she said with a sunny smile. “But it won’t be because of you.”
“I get a phone call,” he said.
“Yeah, you do, but I’m pretty sure the cops can take care of your ten-thousand-dollar-a-deal killer too.”
He sneered. “You have to catch him first.”
“We already accomplished that,” Mack said. “Our officers picked him up about twenty minutes ago. When he found out you gave him up, he was pretty livid. So you might want to watch what you drink when you’re in jail because he has better connections than you do.”
“You lied! I didn’t give him up. Then you have to protect me,” Jude cried out. “You don’t know how many people that guy
has killed.”
“No,” Mack said, “but we’ll enjoy hearing about it.”
Jude turned to look at her. “Remember? I said I want immunity.”
At that, Mack’s eyebrows shot up. “She doesn’t have the authority to give you immunity.”
“I did tell him that,” Doreen said with a smile at Mack. “But he’s talking about information on Frank and Fred.”
At that, all three of the men looked at her in astonishment.
“What?” Mack asked.
“He gave Fred the matching ice picks,” she said.
Mack nodded, but he was still staring at her in disbelief.
“Fred was doing the landscaping when I was going through the desk, looking for the will,” Jude snapped. “My father was already dying, and I didn’t do anything to help him. Why would I help him?” he sneered. “I’m the one who gave him the pills in his drink so he would die. I heard my sisters coming home and hid. Thankfully their intervention didn’t save my father.”
Doreen held up her phone, so Mack would see she was still recording.
He nodded. “So you gave Fred the ice picks to keep him quiet?”
“That and some money,” he added for the first time.
Doreen perked up at that. She didn’t think Fred would pass up an opportunity like that.
“Fred said he needed to make some people disappear a little better.”
“Interesting,” Mack said. “Any idea who it was?”
“Of course,” he said. “Same as me, his parents.”
“Disappear where?”
He shrugged. “How would I know?” he said.
Mack just looked at Doreen.
She shrugged and said, “I highly suspect we need to check their property. You’ll find a missing ice pick buried somewhere. So maybe use a metal detector or at least the cadaver dogs. They’re getting quite a workout here lately.”
Mack groaned. “We need a little more than that. We can’t just go digging up people’s properties.”
“I don’t think Frank had anything to do with it. He’s the one who had his parents declared missing. If you check the paperwork, I bet Fred didn’t say anything.”
“You think Fred killed them?”
She nodded. “Or paid to have them killed. I just don’t know why, and neither do I know where Henrietta is.”
“What? There’s something you don’t know?” one of the cops beside her asked as he flicked a hand through his hair. “Amazing. I guess if we give you another ten minutes or maybe an hour, you’ll figure this all out?”
She glared at him. “You guys didn’t even know Jude had three people killed,” she said, “or the fact that Fred might have killed his parents. Now, I don’t know what happened to Henrietta. And that does concern me, but I’m pretty sure, if you talk to both brothers now, you’ll figure it out.”
At that moment, Jude bolted toward the creek.
Doreen groaned. “Seriously?”
The two cops ran after him, but they didn’t get him. However, Mugs was already waiting for him. As soon as Jude got close, Mugs jumped him. Jude tried to avoid the dog, but Mugs grabbed him by the ankle and gave a hard shake.
Doreen had to admit Mugs might not look like much of an attack dog, but he was solid and hefty. Jude went down, and Goliath jumped onto the back of his head with his claws. Jude screamed, trying to come up onto his hands and knees, but Thaddeus was crawling up and down his arms and shoulders, digging in his claws with every step. “Thaddeus is here. Thaddeus is here.”
Finally Jude roared, “I give up. I give up.”
Doreen looked at Mack and shrugged. “You should be happy,” she said with a smile. “This suspect didn’t attack me this time.”
He rolled his eyes at her. “Maybe not,” he said, “but it’s still a big mess.”
“But a big Burns mess with a couple killers caught,” she said. “And two or three more murders we have to look into the Darbunkle family about.”
“I get it,” he said, in a gentle voice. “And now I get what this is all about. The sisters. All three of them.”
“Somebody’s got to look after the women because, way too often, they just get taken advantage of.”
He gave her a soft smile. “And since you were taken advantage of, you’re trying to help those who can’t help themselves?”
“To a certain extent. I think in Henrietta’s case, it’s already way too late.”
He gave a sober nod. “I’m afraid you may be right.”
Chapter 33
Wednesday Morning …
On Wednesday morning, Doreen woke up bright and early, feeling mighty cheerful. She got up to answer Nan’s call.
“Wow, they came and picked up Fred,” she said. “Mack, Darren, Richie—everybody was all over him.”
“And?”
“Well,” she said, “he bolted. They’re still looking for him.”
“Great,” Doreen said. “With my luck, he’s coming here.”
“Why would he do that?” Nan asked.
“Because I might have sicced Mack on him.”
Nan gasped.
“Look. I’ll get up, get dressed, and put on coffee,” Doreen said. “When I have some caffeine in my system, I’ll call you back.” She hung up, quickly dressed, and went downstairs. While she was piling her hair up into a clip, she looked outside. The bright morning sun was shining in, and it looked like a gorgeous day—except it felt off. Ugly in a way she couldn’t describe. She popped open the back door after disarming the security and then put on coffee. When she turned around to face the door and look outside, there was Fred.
She sighed. “Sorry, Fred,” she said, “but, when you do something like that, it comes back to bite you in the butt.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t mean to.”
“Maybe not,” she said gently. She reached for her phone, putting it on video again, and setting it on the counter so he didn’t think she was still looking at it. “I know you didn’t mean to kill them,” she said, “but, when bad things happen, you know that, while you like to think you can keep it all hidden, eventually it comes out.”
“It was self-defense,” he said sadly. “Me hitting my dad.”
She raised her eyebrows at that. “In that case, you should have gone to the cops.”
“I figured they wouldn’t believe me,” he said, his tone low, “because it involved Henrietta.”
“What about Henrietta?”
“My father beat her,” he said, “and killed her. I don’t think he meant to, but they were at the top of the stairs, and he hit her really hard, so she fell down, and she died. And he couldn’t turn himself in because the blow to Henrietta’s head would have shown up. Dad committed murder. We were all shocked and didn’t know what to do.”
“What did you do with Henrietta’s body?”
“She’s buried on the property,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Frank knows about it too.”
“And your parents?”
“It was pretty sad. My mom was inconsolable, and she wanted to die too. She’d just sit outside in the yard, bawling over the spot where Henrietta was. Finally Mom pleaded with my dad to please kill her so she could be with Henrietta. Mom said Henrietta shouldn’t be alone, that somebody needed to be with her. Finally she grabbed my dad’s gun and shot herself.”
“Oh, dear,” Doreen said, “and now you’d lost two family members.”
“Honestly, I got so mad at my dad that we got into a fight. I ended up hitting him hard in the nose, and it’s like he stood there for a moment, and then he just keeled over dead.” He paused, such sadness in his eyes. “I think that punch sent a bone straight through his brain.”
“Oh, no,” she said, reaching up a hand to rub her temple. “I’m so sorry. I’m sure that still would have been the time to contact the cops.”
“We’ve always kept it to ourselves,” Fred said. “It wasn’t any different then. I know I’ll have to face charges, but I don’t want my b
rother involved. We started the rumors that they’d left to cover their disappearance but we had to keep the house somehow, it’s all we had. So well after seven years we applied to have them declared dead.” He shrugged. “There didn’t seem to be much else to do.”
“So what was the deal with the ice picks?”
He groaned. “The only reason Ed Burns bought them was so he could put them up on the wall and show everybody what a lousy town it was and how poor the craftsmen were. He didn’t buy them because he was proud of Frank and his work. Ed bought them because he wanted to jeer at Frank. Ed made him the laughingstock of the town. Frank had a hard time. He lost the business because he couldn’t do anything anymore, and he was just so heartbroken. And every time he talked to Ed, Frank asked to get the set back, and it was always the same thing. Ed said, no way. He would keep it as a reminder of how shitty Frank’s work was. So when I saw that little weasel son in his father’s office, with his dad dying beside him, he gave the set of ice picks back to me and fifty thousand, so we could get ahead. I took it. I shouldn’t have, but I did. I wanted that set back for my brother.”
“And yet your brother didn’t hang on to them?”
He shook his head. “No, he didn’t. He tossed them.”
“But one is covered in human blood,” Doreen said with a gentle smile. “So somebody found it.”
“Maybe,” he said. “I don’t know about that.”
“Yeah, you do,” she said, crossing her arms. “Who did you kill with that ice pick?”
He glared at her.
She shrugged. “I’m not done yet,” she said. “Whose blood is on that ice pick?”
He groaned. “You never quit digging, do you?”
“No, I don’t. Whose blood is it?”
“It’s mine,” he said. “That’s why I limp. My brother and I had a fight, when he found out I’d blackmailed Jude to retrieve my brother’s ice picks. I thought he would want them back. I thought he would think about his award. But, at the time, keeping the family secrets for five years had taken their toll. Ed’s shaming of Frank had taken its toll. To see the tools again, Frank was reminded of all that bad stuff that he didn’t want to remember, yet he could never stop thinking about it all. Or at least I can’t stop thinking about it. Anyway Frank reacted immediately, striking out at me with one of the ice picks. So, the blood is mine,” he said sadly.