Murder Unmentionable
Page 26
The decorative metal finial on the top of the bust caught Kate just above her left ear. It was hardly a deathblow, but it was painful enough to make Kate drop the gun and grab her head. Emma noticed a thin trickle of bright red blood dripping down the side of Kate’s face and felt a spark of satisfaction.
The gun skipped across the floor, like a stone thrown across the surface of a pond, and came to rest with a thud against the underside of one of the cabinets. Kate made a move toward it, her hands still clutching her head, but Brian dove in front of her and went after it like a football player retrieving a fumble.
Emma held the bust at the ready, prepared to take another swing if necessary.
Brian scrambled to his feet, the gun held firmly in his hand. He stood for a minute, catching his breath.
“What on earth is going on?” He looked from Kate to Emma and back again.
Before Emma could open her mouth, Kate blurted out. “Emma killed Guy and Nikki, and now she’s going to kill us.”
Emma was so shocked she could do no more than sputter.
“Nice try.”
“It’s true,” Kate protested. “Guy gave her the brush-off, and she was furious with him. Then she killed Nikki in a fit of jealousy.”
“I still don’t believe it.”
Kate stamped her foot in frustration.
Brian nodded at Emma. “I think it’s time we called the police.”
IT was barely six a.m. when the blare of sirens once again disturbed the warm morning air of Paris, Tennessee. Brian kept the gun trained on Kate, but the fight had gone out of her and she was slumped in one of the toile chairs, a sulky expression on her face. Emma found herself seized by a fit of violent shivering despite the fact that she had yet to turn on the air conditioner and the thermometer was already flirting with eighty degrees. She pulled a throw off the love seat and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“You okay?” Brian looked up in concern.
“I’m fine. It’s just a reaction to…everything.” A sob caught in Emma’s throat, and she swallowed it quickly. She wouldn’t cry—not here, not now. Later, perhaps, while in the shower where the rush of the water would drown out the sounds, she’d give in to the emotions that were making her shake like a leaf in a storm.
The front door burst open and two patrolmen, already sweating in the early morning heat, burst into the shop. Emma recognized one of them—Flanagan his name was—from the day she found Guy. She shivered and pulled the throw around her more tightly.
They weren’t there for more than five minutes before the door burst open again and Chuck Reilly swaggered into the room.
“Well, well, well.” He looked from Emma to Kate and back again. “What do we have here?”
THREE hours later, Chuck Reilly and several policemen had all gone, having taken Kate into custody, and Emma and Brian were left alone in Sweet Nothings. Emma had finally stopped shivering, and she realized that it was actually quite warm. The hair around Brian’s forehead was damp, and she could feel her blouse sticking to her back and sides. She had never gotten around to turning on the air conditioner.
Brian’s cell phone rang, and he pulled it from his pocket, said a few terse words and snapped it shut again.
“I guess you’d better be going.”
Brian shook his head. “I don’t want to leave you here alone like this.” He put out a hand and smoothed a lock of hair back from her forehead. “You’ve had a terrible shock. Bobby said he’d open the store for me.”
“I can call Aunt Arabella.”
Brian smiled. “Arabella is a dear and quite the woman of the world, but I’d still like to think that I can do a better job of taking care of you.”
Was Brian playing the big brother again or…was this something else? Emma tried to read the answer in his eyes. Emotion swept over her, and she stifled a tiny sob.
Brian put his arms around her, and she let her head drop against his chest. His arms tightened, and she felt him bury his face in her hair. She inhaled the fresh scent of his clean shirt and the slight aroma of soap mingled with deodorant. It was intoxicating. Brian kissed the top of her head, and Emma felt herself smile.
Everything was going to be okay.
MONDAY was their first official day of business, and Emma was relieved to see that their first customers arrived shortly after they opened the doors at ten a.m. Emma was pretty sure they’d been drawn by the rumors of the police having been there the day before, but she didn’t care.
Arabella had been shocked to hear about Kate, but, as usual, she had taken things in her stride. It had hit Sylvia a little harder—she and Kate had become quite close. Sylvia wrung her hands, and said she was sorry she hadn’t paid more attention to the prediction her precious tarot cards had made about someone deceiving her. Fortunately, when she saw the customers spilling into the shop, she rallied. They were run off their feet all morning and afternoon as they racked up sale after sale.
Finally, the clock ticked to a minute past four thirty, and Sweet Nothings was empty, the sound of the last customer leaving still echoing in the silent shop.
“Well,” Arabella began when the front door opened again.
Their collective indrawn breaths were nearly audible as Deirdre Porter walked into the shop. A strong equine odor clung to her hair and clothes, and she was dressed in jodhpurs and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows.
Arabella plastered her best shopkeeper’s smile on her face, although Emma could see the lines of fatigue that had settled around her mouth. “Can I help you?”
“Not at the moment,” Deirdre said. She didn’t look around but made her way directly to the counter. She had a backpack-style purse slung over her shoulder. She plopped it on the counter, loosened the drawstring neck and pulled out a photograph. She tossed it down.
“I thought it would be best if I satisfied you all’s curiosity once and for all. Mama always said the best way to stop a rumor was to face it head on.”
Sylvia held the photograph in her blunt fingers and settled her reading glasses on her nose. “It’s a horse?”
Deirdre nodded. “A quarter horse to be precise. A sixteen-hand gelding named Lancelot.”
Emma glanced at the photograph and nodded politely. Her feet ached and all she could think about was curling up on her window seat with a long, cool drink. She couldn’t imagine why Deirdre had stopped by to show them a picture of a horse. Unless…
“That,” Deirdre said, and stabbed the photo, sending it spinning across the counter, “is what I did with the money from the sale of my sapphire bracelet. Are you satisfied now?”
“Oh.” Emma said in a very small voice, quickly echoed by both Arabella and Sylvia.
“I know what you all were thinking.” Deirdre tucked the photograph back in her purse. “But there’s nothing between me and Skip Clark except for a mutual love of horses. He was boarding Lancelot for old Mr. Everest, and when he passed, his family wanted to sell him. I’d fallen for the old dear myself, and Peyton was okay with me selling my wedding bracelet to buy him.”
Emma must have looked skeptical because Deirdre continued.
“Peyton said if he’d realized I was so crazy about horses, he would have bought me one instead of a piece of jewelry.” She looked around at Emma, Arabella and Sylvia. “I know you all think we’re rolling in dough, but we’re living on the salary Peyton makes working for the family business, and I didn’t want him to go asking his mama for the cash.” Deirdre rolled her eyes. “We’d never hear the end of it.”
AT five minutes after five, Emma gratefully locked the front door and pulled down the shade.
“Lord, am I tired.” Arabella plopped down on the love seat where Pierre had already taken up residence and was snoring softly, his white ear flipping back and forth in the stream of his breath.
“You can say that again.” Sylvia came out from behind the counter, eased off her right shoe and rubbed the ball of her foot. “So now you going to tell us what happened th
is morning?”
Emma knew she couldn’t put it off any longer. She’d told them very briefly about the police and Kate but without any of the details. She took a deep breath.
“Imagine the nerve!” Sylvia exclaimed when Emma told them about Kate’s tampering with her brakes, and how she had posted that threatening note on the window of Sweet Nothings.
“I just can’t believe it. She seemed like such a nice young lady.”
“I was getting quite fond of her,” Sylvia admitted with what Emma thought was a sniff.
“Thank goodness that drama is over. The shop is up and running and is going to take all of our time and energy,” Arabella said.
“I’ve had enough drama for a lifetime.” Emma admitted. The thought of going upstairs to her cozy apartment and putting her feet up while savoring a glass of ice-cold white wine made her almost quiver with anticipation.
Sylvia was gathering up her things, and Emma and Arabella were turning out the lights when someone began hammering on the front door.
“Keep your shirt on,” Sylvia yelled as Emma hastened toward the door.
Another knock rang out, a different sound this time.
“What on earth?” Arabella mumbled as Emma reached for the doorknob.
Les all but fell into the room. He was dabbing a white monogrammed handkerchief against his brow. “Arabella,” he cried when he saw her. “I’ve been so distraught. I just heard the police were here again yesterday morning. I was so worried that something had happened to you.”
“Arabella!” A gruff voice barked out right behind Les. “The boys notified me about the arrest. Are you okay?” Francis strode quickly across the room to stand by Arabella.
Les gave him a dirty look and hastened to stand by Arabella’s other side.
Emma looked from one man to the other and then smiled at Arabella.
And here she’d been worried that small-town life was going to be dull!
The front door eased open again, and Brian stuck his head around the corner. “Just thought I’d check and make sure you ladies are okay.” He was covered in plaster dust, obviously on his way back to O’Connell’s Hardware from his latest renovation project.
Emma smiled. Not only was small-town life going to be more interesting than she’d expected, she had the feeling she was going to thoroughly enjoy it!