Granny's Got a Gun (Secret Agent Granny Book 1)

Home > Mystery > Granny's Got a Gun (Secret Agent Granny Book 1) > Page 8
Granny's Got a Gun (Secret Agent Granny Book 1) Page 8

by Harper Lin


  “We’re closed,” he called through the glass once I made it to the door.

  “Oh, I’m ever so sorry, but I forgot to buy kitty litter. You do have kitty litter, don’t you? I’m afraid my darling little kitty is making a mess all over my floor.”

  “Go to the supermarket.”

  “Oh, I could, but you know how crowded the supermarket is. It’s ever so busy with people rushing here and there and me with my bad heart. Would it be possible to sell me some kitty litter? It will just take a moment, and you were so nice today with my grandson, and I wanted to reward the business by coming back here. You’ll get a regular customer out of me!”

  He studied me a moment and then did something I didn’t like at all—he glanced either way up and down the street.

  “All right.”

  He unlocked the door. Adjusting my purse, I walked in.

  I kept a close eye on him and tried to stay near the window.

  “It’s at the back,” he said, jabbing a thumb in that direction.

  There was no way I was going out of sight of that window. I eased my purse down a little more.

  “Oh, could you get it for me? I’m afraid I’m not as strong as I used to be.”

  Not as quick, either, as it turned out, because two things happened at almost exactly the same time. I had been anticipating them and was prepared to react, but my reaction time was far too slow.

  First, he reached over and flicked off the lights, plunging the shop into darkness.

  Second, he lashed out at me.

  Chapter 10

  What was meant to be a right jab straight into my lovely and still moderately unwrinkled face turned into a glancing blow to my shoulder as I ducked to one side.

  Even so, it was enough to knock me back. I stumbled and would have fallen except that I hit a rack of doggie chew toys that stopped me from doing a head-cracking Lucien imitation. The chew toys acted as a cushion and let out a chorus of squeaks as they kept me on my feet.

  “What are you doing here?” Eddie demanded.

  I could see him in the dim light filtering through the window from the streetlights. Given that it was darker inside than on the sidewalk outside, no one would spot us. I didn’t see anyone out there, anyway.

  He took a step forward, all muscle and menace.

  “I said—”

  What he said next is not fit for repeating. Not that I blame him. Getting a pair of wonderfully manicured nails jabbed into your eyes isn’t conducive to courtesy.

  I reached into my purse for the gun, ducking a blind swing from the drug dealer.

  Ignoring the twinge in my back from the sudden move, I pulled out the gun, flicked off the safety and…

  …had the gun knocked out of my grip.

  Eddie put a strong hand around my throat. He squeezed, just a little.

  Just enough. I froze.

  Eddie’s face came close to mine, his eyes glittering in the streetlight coming in through the window.

  “Who the hell are you?”

  He released the grip on my throat just enough to let me breathe and speak.

  Gulping down air, I replied, “A friend of the man you killed.”

  Eddie got a puzzled look on his face. “Which one?”

  Oh, that was not what I wanted to hear. Nineteen years old and already asking that question? That’s a bad sign.

  “The one you killed with tetrodotoxin. The police have already been informed, and they’re on their way.”

  A smug smile spread across Eddie’s face. My eyes were beginning to adjust to the dim light, and I could see him better, not that that was a good thing.

  “Nice try, lady. If you had called the cops, you wouldn’t have risked coming over. And what’s this about poisoning some dude? I gave that tetrodotoxin to some old bag to off herself.”

  What?

  While that was a surprise, I was more concerned about him telling me this. It meant he planned to kill me once he had found out what I was doing there.

  “She used it to murder her husband,” I told him.

  Eddie gave a little shrug like he didn’t much care what it had been used for. Then his grip tightened slightly.

  “You have a gun and you know how to fight. Just who the hell are you? You an ex-cop?”

  “Ex-CIA.”

  Eddie laughed as if that was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. I like to make opponents laugh. Underestimating me puts them off their guard, and when people laugh, they tend to raise their heads and squint their eyes, distracting their vision.

  Eddie did that, right on schedule.

  Just in time for me to simultaneously knee him in the crotch and punch him in the Adam’s apple.

  Eddie doubled over, holding his not-so-manly parts and choking. Unfortunately, that maneuver gave me a head butt that knocked me back against the chew toys and set off another chorus of squeaks.

  Stumbling out of the way of the groaning Eddie, I nearly fell before righting myself and peering around for my gun.

  I spotted it on the floor several feet away. I sprinted for it.

  Well, sprinted in my terms, meaning I made for it at a tolerably fast walk.

  Not fast enough. I heard Eddie moving.

  Glancing over my shoulder, I saw him crab-walking toward the cash register. His private parts were still smarting, and it made his gait quite amusing.

  His goal was less amusing. He was almost certainly going for a gun.

  Only one thought passed through my mind—could a seventy-year-old woman move faster than a nineteen-year-old man with a severe if sadly temporary handicap?

  The answer was—a tie.

  I ducked down, scooped up my gun, and turned just in time to see Eddie reach over the counter and pull out a revolver.

  He was just leveling it at my head when I fired.

  The gun flew out of his hand and smacked against the window, cracking it.

  I smiled. Shooting a gun out of someone’s hand was a great trick, one I didn’t get to use often enough. Usually in a gunfight, you kill first and ask questions never, but I had a murder to solve.

  Plus, I had done it on instinct. I didn’t have time to put on my reading glasses in order to see my gun sights.

  Readjusting my aim to focus on Eddie’s frightened face, I paused a moment to let the new state of affairs make it through his shocked consciousness.

  He cradled his hand. A trickle of blood glimmered in the streetlight.

  “Whoops, it looks like I nicked you. I do apologize. I meant to just hit the gun. I’m not as good as I used to be. Old people are so useless and uncool, aren’t we?”

  “Why is the CIA hunting me?”

  “Oh, you believe me now? We aren’t hunting you. It’s just that the poison you sold was used in a murder, the murder of someone I knew. So, who did you sell it to?”

  Eddie sneered.

  “I don’t have to tell you anything. I got my rights.”

  I adjusted my aim and sent a bullet through the saggy part of his pants. The bullet cracked through the window and flew out into the street. A public safety hazard, I know, but also a good way to get the police to come.

  “Some old lady, I don’t know her name,” he said, trembling and staring at the gaping hole in his pants. His hands were raised above his head now.

  “You sure? Next time I’ll aim a bit higher. I don’t have my glasses on, but you’re at point-blank range.”

  “Really, I don’t know!”

  “Describe her.”

  “Old.”

  “Yes, I got that. What else?”

  “I don’t know. They all look the same.”

  I aimed a bit higher.

  “Um, she came in alone.”

  “Okay.”

  “She seemed to know what she was looking for.”

  “Go on.”

  “She knew I was a dealer and said that she wouldn’t tell anyone that I was still in the business as long as I sold her the stuff. She knew all about tetrodotoxin.”
<
br />   “Now we’re getting somewhere. What else did she buy?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Not an aquarium or supplies or anything?”

  “No.”

  “Had she ever been in the shop before?”

  “Not that I can remember. Like I said, they all—”

  “They all look the same, I know. Say that again, and I might just have to shoot you.”

  I cocked my head, thinking about what he had told me. This had taken an odd turn.

  “Did she use a cane or a walker?”

  “No, she walked fine. Not as healthy as you but pretty okay.”

  I furrowed my brow. That could only mean Gretchen or Evon. But Gretchen had come in to buy aquarium supplies with Lucien and Pauline. Perhaps Eddie simply didn’t remember her.

  But how did Gretchen or Evon know he was a dealer?

  Then it struck me. Evon had been a schoolteacher. Even though she had retired a few years before Eddie got thrown out of high school, she still attended those school board and PTA meetings. Plus, she socialized with other teachers, both retired and active. She would have heard all about him.

  Evon.

  Despite her hypochondria, she was one of the healthiest and most active of our group. She still drove by herself and knew how to use computers. She could have easily researched tetrodotoxin and learned how to find it and administer it. Now that I recall, Evon had once gone into the kitchen to help Lucien clean up, and he had told her that he could do it himself. That must have been when she’d caught him scarfing that last piece of lemon cake. She would have guessed that he did this all the time, perhaps sneaking a peek into the kitchen on another occasion. She was always getting up to check on people’s work as if she was still running a classroom.

  I thought back to her actions at the last meeting of the Cheerville Active Readers’ Society. She had been fluttering around like a butterfly as usual, reaching over the table to show people their places in the book, especially Pearl, who was a bit slow. I hadn’t really noticed her behavior because that was how she always acted. Looking back, I could see that it had given her plenty of opportunity to spike that last piece of cake.

  Once Lucien had fallen over dead, she had stayed in the living room with Pearl instead of heading to the kitchen. That must have been to hide her guilty expression. Presumably, this was her first murder, and she didn’t want to expose herself with any inappropriate reactions. Also, on some level, she knew she was a hypochondriac and must have been aware that facing death she had administered might cause some sort of breakdown.

  Perhaps she also feared coming into any more contact with the poison. That was probably at the root of her “dying” right after the murder. Handling the poison, however carefully, must have made her worry that she had poisoned herself. She had probably agonized for hours over whether to call me or not. Calling a real doctor had been out of the question because they might have detected what kind of poison it was and incriminated her.

  But why kill Lucien at all? How could someone who feared invisible germs so much that she ran through gallons of disinfectant every month summon the courage to handle a deadly poison and sprinkle it on a cake that would have to sit in front of her for at least several minutes? She must have had an enormous amount of motivation to overcome her fear.

  But what motivation?

  Eddie was still staring at me, waiting for my next move. I cocked my ear, hoping to hear the approaching wail of a police siren. I heard nothing.

  Then I realized that, since our little gunfight, less than a minute had elapsed. Time stretches out in situations like these.

  “Move over there,” I said, indicating the aisle.

  Once he had stepped well away from his gun and my purse, I edged over to them.

  I was about to flick on the light in order to see better and also to advertise the fact that there was trouble inside the shop, and then I thought better of it. Anonymity has its benefits. I didn’t want the gossipmongers of Cheerville wagging their tongues about how that newcomer Barbara Gold was seen holding a gun on a drug dealer. Anonymity had gotten me to the verge of cracking this case. Better if everyone thought I was a sweet, harmless little old lady.

  First I picked up Eddie’s gun, hissing as my back twinged again. Eddie took that hissing as a threat and raised his hands higher above his head.

  Fine by me. Another twinge, another hiss, and I got my purse.

  Placing Eddie’s gun inside, I was startled when at the same moment my phone rang.

  It was Gretchen.

  “Hello, Barbara. I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I came across as downright menacing and suspicious.”

  At the time, she certainly had, but in retrospect, it had only been the overreaction of a grieved widow. I knew that now.

  “That’s all right, Gretchen, considering the circumstances.”

  “So what are you doing at the moment?”

  “Oh, nothing important,” I said, grinning at Eddie.

  “Yes, well, the truth is I don’t want to be alone right now. Evon has kindly offered to come over, and I’d like you to come over, too.”

  “What? Is she there yet?”

  “No, but—”

  “Don’t let her in. I’m coming right over! I’ll explain later.”

  I glanced at Eddie. What to do with him? Even if someone was on the phone to 9-1-1 right now reporting the shots, the police wouldn’t arrive for at least another couple of minutes, plenty of time for him to get away. They’d track him down, of course, but who knew how much havoc he’d cause in the meantime? I couldn’t risk bringing him along in the car, and stuffing him in the trunk would take up too much time, plus if the police came while I was doing that, I would have too much explaining to do.

  So I chose the only practical solution—I shot him in the leg.

  The drive over to Gretchen’s house nearly got me killed twice—first when I ran Cheerville’s only red light and came within inches from getting sideswiped by an SUV and the second time when I almost veered off the road making an anonymous call to the police saying I’d heard shots fired inside the Cheerville Pet Shoppe.

  My heart turned to ice as I pulled up outside Gretchen’s home. Evon’s car was already parked outside.

  Hobbling over to the door, back twinging from too many sudden bends, body hurting from several bruises that I had just now begun to notice now that the adrenaline had started to wear off, I frantically rang the bell.

  I almost fainted with relief when Gretchen answered the door.

  “Do you feel all right?” I demanded.

  Gretchen slumped. “Of course not. I—”

  “Any tingling in your extremities or mouth? Any saliva buildup?”

  “Barbara, what on earth are you—”

  “Have you eaten anything since Evon came over?”

  I was almost hysterical now. I fought to control myself, realizing that I was making a scene. I always got a case of the nerves after a gunfight. During the fight, I always acted calm and cool, as one should. I’ve seen people who got a case of the nerves during gunfights. They generally ended up on the floor.

  Evon’s head poked around the corner. She stood in the living room and looked down the front hall at us.

  “No, why?” Gretchen asked.

  I pointed at Evon.

  “Because that woman poisoned your husband.”

  “That’s ridiculous!” Gretchen shouted, glaring at me. “How could you say—”

  A shriek and a wail from the living room changed her opinion abruptly. I pushed past Gretchen and hobbled down the hallway. Gretchen followed.

  Evon was slumped on the couch, sobbing. For a moment, we stood and stared at her in silence. I kept my hand close to the opening of my purse. I didn’t think I would need my gun, but it paid to be prepared.

  “You did poison him, didn’t you?” I said at last. “You bought some tetrodotoxin from Eddie at the pet store, and you put it on the las
t piece of lemon cake, knowing Lucien would eat it. You knew Eddie had been kicked out of school for dealing drugs, and one look at the crowd hanging around the pet store told you he was up to his old tricks. You wanted a fast-acting poison that was easy to administer and hide, and tetrodotoxin is one of the deadliest poisons in nature, and completely legal to purchase. All you need to do is buy a pufferfish.”

  Gretchen looked from me to Evon and back again. The look on her face showed she couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but Evon wasn’t denying anything.

  Clarity dawned on Gretchen’s face. “You loved him too, just like Pauline! I always suspected it.”

  Evon nodded.

  “It’s just as I thought,” I said. “Pauline hinted that she wasn’t the only one to be in love with your husband, Gretchen, and although she didn’t name any names, who would confide that secret to her more than her best friend?”

  “Pauline had nothing to do with this,” Evon objected. “She would have never hurt him. That was the problem.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. I still didn’t quite understand why Evon would do such a thing.

  She looked at me, eyes wide. I saw madness in those eyes.

  “That man was like a disease, a disease that made women insane. Look how he made Pauline act. She never recovered from her husband leaving her for a younger woman, and then along came Lucien, all courtesy and good looks, and sent poor Pauline into a swoon. She knew it was mad; she knew she was setting herself up for disappointment, but she couldn’t help herself. Instead of putting her unhappy years behind her, she ended up making her life worse. I was the same. I fell for him too. Everyone always wondered why I never got married. It’s because I never found any man that was up to the mark. Then I found Lucien, and I knew I couldn’t have him. That killed me inside.”

  “So you murdered my husband because he rejected you, like he rejected Pauline,” Gretchen said, her face white with shock.

  Evon shook her head. “He never rejected me because I never told him. I knew what his response would be. That man is a disease. Who knows how many other hearts he’s broken.”

  “But he never led you on!” Gretchen shouted.

 

‹ Prev