More blood floated in the water around me. I didn't let up, just kept my arm moving fast and hard. My vision grayed, my lungs labored. If I hadn't made the high school swim team, I couldn't have withstood the attack.
Pulling strength from despair, I wrapped both hands around the garden stake. I put everything I had into what could be my last defensive move.
The attempt worked.
The hand holding me down slipped away.
I surfaced, gasping for air. I inched my hands up the spa's inner surface, not letting go of the garden stake.
Finally, I pulled free of the water and collapsed next to the spa.
My lungs worked overtime, pulling in oxygen and expelling fear. Luckily, I didn't have to move fast. The would-be murderer lay close by, in worse shape than me.
Bright red hair and thick black glasses were the first items I noticed about the woman. Who the heck was she?
My blurred vision kept me from making an immediate identification. Finally her rock of a wedding ring gave me a clue.
Flash. I’d kept saying she was a criminal but seeing made me a believer.
Slashes from the garden stake decorated her upper body and arms. Blood seeped out of the wounds where she lay sprawled. One part of me hoped I hadn't killed her, another smaller part hoped I had. I might have been shocked at the thought if I weren't so angry. Okay, probably not.
She rolled her head to the side and opened her eyes. “Bitch. Shoulda got you in the cemetery.”
My grasp on the stake loosened. Flash had shot at us? “How’d you know we were at Graceland? And why kill us? We didn’t do anything to you.”
“Followed you.” She hauled in a breath. “Took Morgan. Mine. He was…best thing…ever happened.”
Revenge. Flash would think and act like a soap opera diva, but murder was too much.
“Has everything. Coulda left him for me.”
“Ginger’s in love with her husband. She wasn’t interested in Morgan.”
“Figures.” She closed her eyes.
Flash’s last words had slurred and she didn't look like she'd be getting up. Still, I held the stake in front of me with two shaking hands. That's how Dirk found us.
He knelt next to me and pulled me into an embrace. His eyes took in the scene. He let go with one hand to phone in a report. That done, he cradled me to him. “I told you not to leave the house.”
Surprisingly, his accusation didn't hold much heat.
“The little juvie next door woke me up.” I paused to shiver and tried to stop my teeth from chattering.
Dirk pulled a towel from a nearby lounge chair and wrapped it around me. “You mean Johnny? He's not a JD. He's four.”
“Don't know his name.”
Dirk tightened his hold on me. “He's usually a good kid. He knows not to come over when I'm not home. I wonder what brought him here?”
My shaking had slowed, but a tremor raced through my body. I didn't think it possible, but Dirk held me tighter. Any more clinch and I'd be breathless again.
“I v-v-vote Flash.”
The hot sun and Dirk's body heat did their number on my physical shakes. The effects of shock remained, but the major shuddering faded.
I guessed Dirk could tell I'd recovered a bit. “Want to tell me what happened?”
“I'll wait.” I only wanted to tell this story once. Or maybe twice, the second time at Flash's trial.
Sirens wailed and grew closer. I eyed him. “Don't you want to change your shirt? Or let go of me before backup arrives? I'm okay with the towel.”
“Screw it. I don't care who knows about us. Do you?”
“Not really.”
Chapter Twenty
The paramedics bundled Flash onto the gurney and wheeled her off. Meanwhile, the moon-suited techs were back and I'd been shuttled to another part of the yard.
Dirk sat on a lounge chair about five feet away. With him were his neighbor Johnny and Johnny's mother. I rested my head against the chair's back and listened to the little boy's fluting voice.
“Johnny, why don't you tell me what happened, okay? You're not in trouble. We only need to know what you were doing in my yard. Your mom told you not to come over when I'm gone, remember?”
Dirk’s soothing voice had me ready to drift off. The rhythmic thuds from Johnny's heels hitting the metal frame slowed and stopped.
“Can you tell us what happened?”
Johnny's chair squeaked. The webbing swished. This I had to see.
The boy crossed both his arms and legs and peeked at Dirk from under his eyelashes. I swanee, all young boys must attend a “get out of trouble with a cute look” class. Looking at Dirk, I realized some of the little monsters never outgrew it.
Johnny uncrossed his arms and rubbed his nose. “The lady with the red hair and glasses gave me a dollar. She said she was Dirk's girlfriend and she wanted to play a trick on him.” A big tear ran down his cheek. “But when the door opened, it wasn't you. It was the black haired lady.” He stuck out his lower lip. “She yelled at me for being in the yard.”
Johnny's mother put her hands on her son's arms. “You know you aren't supposed to talk to strangers.” She gave him a little shake. “Or be in this yard without permission.”
“But, Mom, the lady said she was Mr. Dirk's friend.”
His mother gave a universal mother's frustrated sigh. She raised an apologetic look to Dirk. “I'm sorry, Dirk. He's just so fascinated with you, it's hard to keep him away.”
I raised a cynical eyebrow. His mother looked like she shared her son's fascination.
“I'll speak with my husband. We'll figure out how to give you more privacy.” She looked my way and winked.
I could have been wrong about the mom.
Johnny plucked at Dirk's wet shirt. “I didn't know she was a bad lady.” He ducked his head. “I'm really sorry, Mr. Dirk.”
“You ran back home, right? You didn't see anything after the second lady yelled at you?”
I watched Dirk with Johnny. He took care to make sure the kid wouldn't have nightmares about two women in a death struggle. Nice.
“I didn't see nuthin'.”
The pressure in my chest relaxed. No kid should have to see violence, not anywhere, real life or television. That was my hot button and I stuck to my opinion. No wonder I didn't want kids.
Exhaustion overtook me. I closed my eyes and let the heat and murmuring voices act as a balm. Young boys, money and dirty tricks. A potent combination. And smart. Her trick had gotten me outside. That still didn't explain Flash's attempts to have me arrested for murder. Or her subsequent attempt to do me in.
The annoying thoughts faded and I slipped into sleep.
****
Dirk and Ginger sat across from me when I struggled to consciousness. I tensed, afraid I'd been transported back to Northeast Medical Center. The dim lighting and comfortable bed convinced me Dirk had kept his promise about keeping me out of the hospital.
Their soft conversation stopped when they noticed me stir. They wore identical expressions of alert worry.
“I'm fine.” My raspy voice belied my words, and Ginger offered water.
The room was so quiet I could hear Dirk's phone vibrate. He seemed undecided but answered in a soft voice. He rose and strode out.
My friend clasped my hand. “Katie, I'm sorry I got you involved in my mess. I should have gone to the police when I got that first blackmail note.”
“Sweetie, that wouldn't have changed a thing. Once Morgan died, all bets were off.”
“But no one should have gotten hurt. Keeping the threats quiet seemed so easy, and I didn't want to be a victim.” She paused. “You're so strong, Katie. I thought some of your courage would rub off on me.”
I gathered my determination. “You're the brave one, Ginger.”
“Me?” She laughed. “Give me a break. You're never afraid to tell people what you think.”
“Sure, but I never tell them how I feel. You do, and that takes real courag
e.” Before I could chicken out, I inhaled a breath and continued. “I love you, Ginger. You're my best friend and I never want to lose you. Ever. I'd do anything to protect you and our friendship.”
She didn't bother wiping moisture from her cheeks. “I know. That's why I asked you for help. I knew you'd have my back. In exchange, I almost got you killed.”
“Cripes. Give me a break. Flash and I hated each other from the get go. She would've gone after me all on her own.”
That was probably true. I had a feeling Flash had thrown me into the mix for two reasons. First, to get back at Ginger for taking Morgan away. Sending Ginger's friend to jail on a murder charge would fit that picture. Second, because we had hate at first look. Or vice versa.
“Ahem.” Dirk stood at the door. “Sorry to interrupt but that was the hospital. Brandi Wells will pull through.”
The news seemed anticlimactic.
I caught Dirk's alert stance. “Okay.”
He frowned. “That's it? That's all you have to say?”
I summoned my new emotional courage. “I know that you will find enough evidence to send her away for years. You'll make sure she goes down for murder and two counts of attempted murder. Or is it three?” I forced myself back on track. “Doesn't matter how many.”
I took a deep breath and looked straight at him. “I trust you.” I paused. “With my life.”
You could have punctured the atmosphere with a garden stake. Ginger moved away and Dirk took her place at my side, but their moves were nothing more than blurred motion. Tears welled in my eyes and my usual blinking didn't bat them away. Not that I tried hard.
I heard the door click shut but Dirk had already moved to spoon me. He placed his chin on my shoulder. His breath tickled my ear. “Once you make up your mind, you don't waste time, do you?”
“Life's too unpredictable.” My parents' death taught me that in middle school and Flash just finished a refresher course.
“I trust you too.”
My body relaxed into his. Trust. We had a starting place.
****
Ginger had my back, but I moved pretty well. Considering. We shuffled into the Chocolate Fix arm-in-arm like two old ladies.
Mona slid a tray holding truffles into her glass-fronted sales case. She straightened and began a round of applause picked up by her customers.
Several of the women looked familiar. My feeling was that more than one had been entangled with Morgan. I hadn't killed him, but encouraging the blackmail victims to come forward had saved them all. That act I could get behind without apology.
Ginger guided me to a table, where I eased into a chair. I didn't think we'd be able to stay long. The iron chairs were cute but not so comfy. She walked to the counter and placed our order.
Mona followed Ginger back to the table carrying a plate of truffles and a mug. She set both down with nothing more than a slight click.
“Here you go. On the house.”
She pushed the mug closer. “Lemon tea. For your throat.”
A sip lubricated my sore pipes. “Thanks.”
The older woman waved away my words. “You deserve more than tea, but I'd get busted for serving Champagne without a license.”
I couldn't hold back my grin. The mug she'd served me didn't hold lemon tea. Bubbles had tickled the back of my throat when I swallowed.
Around the room, women raised their mugs in silent tribute. I almost couldn't swallow my next sip of “tea.” I'd just been in the right place at the wrong time. They'd bared their humiliating stories to the cops. No comparison.
Mona popped a truffle. She chewed, licked her fingers and sipped from her mug. “Have you heard any news on the Flash Front?”
“Dirk told me she heard the Miranda when she came to this morning.”
Ginger's mug landed with a clatter. “Did she have a lawyer waiting at her bedside?”
My friend sounded a little testy. “I don't think she had time to call one. She'd better get someone from Charlotte, though. Maybe further out.”
“A designer attorney.” Ginger snapped her fingers. “I've been meaning to tell you. Remember the lipstick color we tried to match at Nordstrom's?”
“Um, yeah?”
“My cosmetic consultant called this morning. The shade is PowPowRed.” Ginger waved her hand. “The shade had limited sales in this area. And guess who bought a tube?”
Mona and I exchanged glances. We answered simultaneously. “Flash.”
“You got it.” She chose a truffle but couldn't hide a triumphant grin. “Oh, I'm sorry, Mona, you may not know about—”
“The kitchen destruction.” Mona nodded. “Yeah, I heard the story. So Flash trashed your house, Katie?”
Ginger swallowed and answered for me. “Yes.” She contemplated the plate of chocolates but drank instead.
Mona chose another truffle. “Too bad you can't place her at the scene.”
“Au contraire.” Ginger gloated, a look I hadn't seen on her face before. “The lipstick is circumstantial, but it fits. I kept the rag I used to wipe down your fridge. Maybe there's DNA.”
I figured a charge of B&E and malicious destruction of property was small potatoes compared to murder and attempted murder, but an exercise that'd bring me a world of satisfaction.
Mona saluted Ginger with her mug and drank. “Why'd she use something so distinctive to leave the message?”
“It was last year's shade. She figured no one would recognize the color.”
No wonder we hadn't been able to match hues when we went to Nordstroms. The world of the rich. Using a thirty-dollar lipstick to leave a threat.
Ginger frowned. “She began rumors that you’d done the damage yourself. Folks around town know you've got a bit of a temper. No doubt she thought the police wouldn't look further.”
Mona jumped in. “She spread stories and pulled strings to make your arrest a sure thing. Sneaky.”
She looked at me. “But not as smart as you.” She stood. “Gotta get back behind the counter. See me before you leave. The ladies chipped in and bought you a little thank you gift.”
****
Ginger used both hands to lift the heavy shopping bag from the Chocolate Fix. The ladies' “little gift” included three boxes of the largest truffle selections Mona sold. They'd also thrown in a small hand painted hat made of solid chocolate. We'd be in sugar overload for weeks. I couldn't wait to open the first box.
Ginger shook her head. “Sick woman.”
“Who, me? All I want is to open one of those boxes.”
She rolled her eyes. “Not you. Flash.”
I crossed my two forefingers in a banish sign. “Don't say that. She could get off on an insanity plea.”
“Don't be so sure of that.” Dirk and Matt stood at the screen door.
Ginger waved them in. “Would you like tea, Detectives? Cookies?” She gathered mugs and arranged a plate of cookies.
I waited until everyone had settled in then repeated the question. “Why do you think Flash won’t get off on an insanity plea?”
“We found traces of ricin in her potting shed. That proves pre-meditation in Anderson's murder. When Nash heard we arrested Brandi Wells for his partner's murder, he turned state's evidence. The DA reviewed the evidence this morning. He's going after her with no plea bargaining.”
“So your boss is finally off my back?”
Matt snorted. “Not really.”
Dirk smirked. “Are you sure you don't know him?”
“I give up. What's his name?”
“Thomas Fortune.”
Ginger gasped. “Tommy? Tubby Tommy is your boss? I don't believe it.” She nudged me in the ribs. “You remember Tommy, right?”
“Crap.” I buried my face in my hands. Oh, sure, I knew Tommy. I'd stood him up the night of our high school prom. It wouldn't take long for Ginger to remember.
“Katie! Didn’t you stand him up on prom night?”
Dirk interrupted before I could answer. “I knew it.”<
br />
I peeked at him from between my fingers. “Will you be in hot water now that he knows we're dating?”
Matt laughed. “You're kidding, right? Johnson's been in hot water since he started with the force.”
Dirk growled in response. He held out his hand to me. “Let's take a walk.”
I stood, took his hand and we walked toward Ginger's manicured rose garden. The warm air brought out a medley of aromas created by dozens of rose plants. Bees buzzed and silence lay between us.
“Your job isn't in jeopardy because of me, is it?”
“No.”
“Because I don't want to stand in your way or put your career at stake.”
“My job's fine.”
I exhaled. “Good. That's good.”
He put his arm over my shoulders and pulled me against his side. We walked a few more yards, bumping hips occasionally. We stopped under a shade tree and faced each other. He cupped my chin in his palms.
“There's only one thing at stake here.” He bent and kissed me. When he pulled away, he said, “Us.”
He cleared his throat. “What do you think? Want to take a chance? On me?”
I pulled out my newfound emotional courage to answer him. “Yes, I'll take a chance on you.”
He exhaled. “That makes us even then.”
I nodded. “Partners.”
His lips stopped a hair’s breadth from mine. “What do you mean, partners?”
“Well, I knew Flash was bad news from the get go. You wouldn't listen to me. I'd have arrested her right away.”
“Without proof?”
I waved my hand and his logic away. “So I figured you could tell me about your cases and I'd tell you what my gut reaction is.”
“No way.”
“Way.”
“I don't have time for this.” He captured my lips in a mind-stealing kiss.
I forgot what we'd been talking about, but it didn't matter.
I'd get what I wanted or I wasn’t Katie Sheridan.
A word about the author...
Ashantay Peters loves escaping into a well-written book. Her reading addiction also has her perusing magazines, newspapers, Internet articles, and even food labels. The last is often feebly excused as an attempt to maintain health, but her friends know the truth.
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