Dying to Get Even

by Judy Fitzwater

  The water was dark, and she couldn’t seem to remember to open her eyes. But she had to. Somehow she pried loose her lids, but which way was up? Everything was spinning, spinning as if she were caught in an eddy that was sucking her farther and farther down as it drew the last bits of breath from her lungs. She was choking, choking on water, and then the blackness that was outside seemed to be inside. She said a little prayer for Emma and one for Jaimie. She lost consciousness before she finished one for herself.

  She was gagging and fighting for air, desperately trying to fill her lungs. Someone cradled the back of her neck and gently turned her head as water spilled from her throat.

  "It’s all right," a woman’s voice soothed. "You’re going to be all right."

  "She's breathing," the voice told someone else.

  Suddenly, Jennifer choked and retched violently. Then she felt her useless body being tugged backward, and she was again on her back. A soothing cloth dabbed at her face and neck, wiping the hair from her forehead.

  "Just breathe normally. Damn it. Help me get this thing off of her."

  And then there was a pulling and tugging and what had lain tangled around her neck was free.

  Her back hurt. So did her neck and everything inside her rib cage.

  Whatever she was lying on was hard and rocky and had scraped her skin. Solid ground. Thank God.

  Slowly, her eyelids parted. Wet, tangled, unnaturally blond hair brushed her cheeks. She blinked twice as the face, so close to her own, finally came into focus.

  Lisa smiled. She looked surprisingly pleasant. "She’s okay. She’s back with us," she said, her white mesh bathing suit dripping water down Jennifer’s neck.

  "What?" Jennifer managed to ask. Pain caught in the back of her head and she winced. Her eyes rolled up. All she could see were treetops. She must be in the clearing where she’d sat down to eat.

  "Don’t try to talk. Benny, go call the paramedics."

  Jennifer licked her lips. Her mouth tasted sour. "How did you—"

  "I told you not to talk." Lisa laid a towel across Jennifer’s chest. "I went around the side of the boat house to get some rope. I thought I heard a splash, but that damn motorboat was making so much noise I couldn’t be sure. Then I saw some fabric—that shift you had on over your suit—floating on the water a few yards from the shore, and I realized someone had fallen in. I dove in after you. You’re going to be fine."

  Jennifer grabbed Lisa’s forearm. "I know you didn’t kill Edgar."

  "Of course I didn’t. I told you that. Now rest."

  But she couldn’t rest. She knew who had killed Edgar and who had tried to kill her. Emma’s trial was barreling to a conclusion, and it had to be stopped before another day, another hour, passed with Emma accused of murder.

  She tried to rise up, but Lisa shoved her back down.

  "I’m a certified lifeguard, at least I used to be. You’re to stay put."

  "But you don’t understand. I know."

  "Know what, dear?" another woman’s voice asked.

  Lisa drew back and Melissa bent forward.

  Jennifer shrieked with every bit of energy she could muster, but only a squeak came out.

  "Why don’t you make sure Benny called those paramedics?" Melissa told Lisa.

  Jennifer clutched at Lisa, but she was pulling away.

  "I’ll be right back. Melissa will take good care of you."

  And then it was just the two of them—Jennifer and Melissa.

  She felt her forearms wedged down as Melissa straddled her, and a hand came down over her mouth and pinched her nostrils shut. "Relax, dear, like Lisa said. This won’t take long."

  Melissa was right. It wouldn’t take long, in her weakened state, for her to pass out again. She had to do something, but what? Melissa’s weight was resting on her torso. Jennifer’s hands were free and so were her legs, but they weren’t any good to her with her arms and body pinned to the ground. Her breath was leaving again, but she hadn’t come out of the darkness to be plunged back into it. There had to be something she could do. Something... And then she remembered an old childhood trick she used to play when someone had a hand over her mouth. She forced her tongue between her lips and licked the inside of Melissa’s hand.

  Melissa jerked back, and the weight on Jennifer’s forearms eased just enough. As Jennifer gasped for air, she mustered every ounce of strength in her body and twisted to her right, knocking Melissa on her side. She didn’t have to win, she told herself. All she had to do was delay. She rolled onto her face and into a ball like a turtle drawing in all its appendages. She felt Melissa grab at her back, trying to push her over. At least if Melissa killed her now, she’d have to leave marks, and there’d be no pretense of drowning.

  "What the heck?" It was Sam’s voice. He pushed past Melissa, turned Jennifer over, and cradled her to him.

  Lisa was right behind him, covering her with a blanket.

  Jennifer coughed and drew in precious air. "It was Melissa." Jennifer strained against his embrace. "She doesn’t have arthritis. She’s strong as a horse. She killed Edgar, and she was trying to kill me."

  Chapter 34

  Jennifer liked being pampered. Having Sam at her beck and call was something she could get used to. He was a pretty darned good cook even if he had a philosophical problem with leaving the ham out of a grilled ham and cheese. But that was all right. He was learning.

  She stretched her feet against the far side of the sofa. Muffy stirred and gave Jennifer’s hand another lick. The dog had been so upset when Sam came to feed and walk her last night while Jennifer was at the hospital that he’d stayed the night. He’d even let her sleep on the foot of the bed. They both knew better.

  She was fine. Really she was. The doctor had kept her overnight for observation. All she needed was a few days of relaxation.

  On the coffee table was the large vase of cut flowers that Monique, April, Teri, and Leigh Ann had sent. She had scared them silly. At the lake was the first time she’d ever seen Teri cry.

  Being loved was good. Being alive and loved was even better.

  Sam brought in a lunch tray with her grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of steaming tomato soup. He set it on her lap and made a big production of tucking a paper napkin under her chin. "Your coordination may not be quite back to normal," he told her, kissing her nose.

  Then he collapsed into the armchair.

  "Aren’t you having any?" she asked.

  "Maybe later. I enjoy watching you eat."

  Good. She enjoyed watching him cook. "What have you heard from the police?"

  "They arrested Melissa for the assault on you right after we left in the ambulance. She’s admitted to that much."

  "But why’d she do it?"

  "You kept insisting to anyone who would listen that Lisa had killed Edgar. She wasn’t about to let Lisa be charged with anything."

  "I guess not." She took a sip of soup. "This is really good, by the way."

  She wiped the corner of her mouth. It wasn’t easy trying to eat with her legs stretched straight out in front of her. "When I found out Lisa and Melissa were like mother and daughter, and then I tasted her vegetable casserole and realized the steak sauce was her recipe, everything fell into place—right about the time I fell into the water."

  She rose up and Sam was immediately on his feet, stuffing a pillow behind her back. "Thanks. It all suddenly made sense. Roy must have overheard Edgar setting up the meeting with Emma the night he died. He probably knew about some of the earlier meetings as well. Suzy had figured out Edgar was in love with Emma, so I’m sure Roy must have suspected, too. And Melissa was the only one he was likely to have told. He wouldn’t have wanted to hurt Lisa by telling her."

  "One thing that bothered me from the beginning," Sam said, "was the security system."

  Jennifer nodded. "That’s one of the reasons I was convinced Lisa was the murderer. But surely during the years Lisa was married to Edgar, Melissa would have been told about the co
des, especially with the two of them working odd hours at the restaurant. She could let herself in the gate without anyone knowing, kill Edgar, push his body into the pool, attack Emma, let herself into the house, turn the pool alarm back on, and get herself off the property without anyone knowing it."

  "And before you arrived several hours later. But how could she have done all that if she was crippled with arthritis and a sprained toe?"

  "She wasn’t. I told you that at the lake," Jennifer explained. "The arthritis must have been an act for my benefit. I showed up shortly after Edgar’s death, and she was suspicious. When she invited me to the picnic to stage my seemingly accidental death, she put on the sprained toe act, so the family wouldn’t question why she was using a cane."

  Jennifer broke off a small piece of sandwich and fed it to Muffy. The dog wouldn’t leave her long enough to eat her own food. "In her mind, Melissa was just protecting her own. Lisa and Roy had built up that restaurant with Melissa’s recipe and her blessings, and Edgar was using that success to lure Emma back to him."

  "And the prenup meant he could steal the restaurant and the franchise business right out from under Lisa," Sam said.

  "Right," she agreed. "It was Melissa who was getting that ten percent of the gross receipts, and she would still get it, but Lisa would be out in the cold. Lisa had as much invested in that restaurant as Edgar did."

  "Well, now she’s got his share, and it looks as if she and Emma can go forward with the franchise."

  A knock sounded on the door, and Sam rose to open it. Mrs. Walker rushed past him to Jennifer. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Just look at you. You look like death itself. But at least you’re being fed."

  Jennifer screwed up her face. No wonder Sam had insisted he couldn’t find a mirror when she’d fixed her hair.

  "I’m fine," Jennifer assured her, "regardless of what I look like. What are you doing here?"

  "I had to see for myself that you were all right. I made Walter bring me over."

  A sharp pain shot through her head as Jennifer twisted to see Ornsby standing by the door. He was holding a vase filled with at least a dozen roses.

  "Did he tell you about Allison?" Jennifer asked.

  "Yes, and I’m quite put out about it. He should never have kept her existence from me. I always wanted children, you see. She should have been part of our lives—Edgar’s and mine. I do so hope she’s fond of dogs. She and I have got to get to work on this franchise plan. Lisa, too, of course. We’ve put off our investors far too long as it is."

  "How is Lisa?"

  "She's holding up pretty well, now that the initial shock of learning that Melissa killed Edgar is wearing off. She's had quite a blow. First losing her husband, and now effectively losing her foster mother."

  "She's got Benny," Sam threw in.

  "True, but they're just friends," Mrs. Walker insisted. "I hardly think he could keep up with her. She's quite a dynamo, you know."

  "Does that mean the charges against you—" Jennifer began.

  "Heckemyer is filing a motion for dismissal Monday morning," Ornsby said, bringing the flowers over and setting them next to the other bouquet.

  "You didn’t have to—" Jennifer started.

  "We didn’t," Mrs. Walker interrupted. "I was so flustered over what happened to you, flowers hadn’t yet entered my mind. We met the delivery man outside the door."

  "Sam?" Jennifer smiled.

  He fished the card from among the blooms. "Wish I could take credit for this one, but I’ve been pretty busy."

  He opened the small envelope, pulled out the card, and read. "‘Jen, remember your promise. Front page exclusive. You get one day of rest. I’ll see you early Monday morning. Love, Teague.’"

  Sam glared at her. "Love, Teague? Exclusive?"

  She’d known that deal with the devil would come back to haunt her, but she’d given her word. She’d have to go through with it.

  Jennifer stuffed the last bit of sandwich in her mouth and gulped it down. She might not be getting any more of Sam’s cooking for a while.

  "What were you thinking?" he demanded.

  "If I hadn’t promised him, we would never have found out that Allison was Natalie."

  He wasn’t saying a word. She liked it better when he yelled.

  "I almost drowned. Have you forgotten?"

  "No, and you’re fine. You told me so yourself."

  "I don’t think I’m as fine as I thought. As a matter of fact, I think I’m having a relapse." She burrowed down into the sofa cushions and let out a phony-sounding cough.

  "You can’t have a relapse from drowning," Sam pointed out.

  "But I could catch pneumonia."

  "Children, please," Mrs. Walker commanded. "Be thankful you still have one another. At a time like this, everything else fades to nothing."

  Sam knelt down next to the couch and drew Jennifer to him. And, for a moment at least, all else did fade to nothing.

  Chapter 35

  Every nerve in Maxie’s body stood alert. She could sense danger like a mouse could sense a cat. But she continued to stare into the lake. If she moved too soon, she’d give herself away.

  Then she tucked and rolled, just as the cane came whizzing over her head. She lunged back, jerking the wood from Missy Burdette’s hands, caught her with an upper cut, and brought a blow down on the back of her neck. Burdette crumpled to the ground like a wet dish rag.

  "It’s all over, Missy," Maxie told her. "I know you killed Rufus Donaldson, even if you'd only meant to confront him that night at his factory. He took your recipe for rocky road fudge and built an empire with it. Then he planned to toss your niece away like yesterday’s newspaper, without so much as alimony. But it didn’t work, Missy. Murder is an easy answer. It’s never the right answer."

  "What’s going on here?" Oscar Mobley’s gruff voice called as he tramped through the woods. She'd called him before going down to the water by herself. Maxie was no fool.

  "She’s all yours," Maxie declared. "Missy Burdette murdered Donaldson."

  "Well, I’ll be, Maxie. Guess I owe you a major apology. You ever think of becoming part of the force? We could use someone like you."

  Maxie grinned. She’d finally won his respect. And while she was content to be a private investigator, it sure was nice to be asked.

  And it sure would be nice to be published.

  Jennifer let out a huge sigh and typed THE END at the bottom of the page.

  "So what you think, Muff? Is the truth buried deep enough that no one would connect Maxie's adventure with Edgar Walker's murder?"

  Muffy shook all over and then collapsed on the floor. Jennifer took that as doggy for no.

  She'd never get away with it. She might as well dump the whole file.

  She stared at the delete button, but she couldn't quite make herself do it. Maybe there was something in there, some scene, some character, something she could salvage for another book.

  She pressed the save button and pulled up a new document.

  A blank page. The first page of a new novel. It stared back at her, taunting her. No matter how many books she wrote, starting one never got any easier.

  She closed her eyes and let her mind go. Then her fingers found the keys.

  Serena Callas looked like a cross between a superhero and a biker chick, but she was one of Atlanta's most prominent private eyes. Her bleached hair flew about her face like a flag flapping in a good wind as she tugged down the black leather of her vest and jerked open the door of her Jag. A small tattoo of a wasp showed on her upper thigh just below her mini-skirt as she climbed in and slammed the door behind her. Her lips formed into a pout.

  Murder was her business.

  "Yes," Jennifer purred. "Now that's more like it."

  If you enjoyed this book, Jennifer’s adventures continue in book three of the series, DYING FOR A CLUE: http://www.amazon.com/Dying-Jennifer-Marsh-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B005V538LM/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&qid=1335622792&sr=8-3

  For a com
plete list of Judy Fitzwater’s books, descriptions and links to Amazon for purchase,

  Visit her web site at:

  www.judyfitzwater.com

  Contact her at judyfitzwater@gmail.com

  The Jennifer Marsh Mysteries:

  Originally published by The Ballantine Publishing Group

  Dying to Get Published

  Dying to Get Even

  Dying for a Clue

  Dying to Remember

  Dying to Be Murdered

  Dying to Get her Man

  Other Books by Judy Fitzwater:

  No Safe Place

  A Silhouette Bombshell published by Silhouette Books,

  New York, New York