by Dale Mayer
“Doreen!”
She winced when she heard Denise’s voice. She didn’t want to answer, but then the woman said, “Please help.”
Doreen groaned because what was she supposed to do now? If the woman was involved, that would put Doreen in trouble, but, if the woman was hurt or injured or needed a place to bolt to from her stepdad, and Doreen didn’t help her, how would that go? She immediately texted Mack, telling him it sounded like Denise was outside her house, saying she needed help. Mack immediately told Doreen to stay inside and to not let Denise in, no matter what. She didn’t know what to do at that point in time and texted him back, saying it sounds like she’s in trouble. Her phone rang immediately.
“I’m on the way,” he said. “Do not open the door.”
She winced and then turned to the backyard. “I don’t hear her anymore.”
“Don’t trust her,” he said. “It’s not that simple.”
“She asked for my help, Mack,” she said in a whisper.
“Of course she did. She knows how to get to you.”
Doreen stopped. “Am I that easy?”
“You’re that bighearted,” he said for clarity. “Not easy. It’s just that those kinds of people know they can take advantage of you.”
“Great,” she said. “That’s not exactly how I want to be seen in life.”
“Prove it then and stay inside and stay safe.”
He hung up the phone, and she listened again. And there it was.
“Doreen, Doreen please. I’m hurt.”
She looked at Mugs. “What do we do, Mugs?” Mugs barked and barked, and, while Doreen understood how he felt, neither did she feel like he was telling her to open the door. When she tested her theory and moved toward the door, he stepped in her way, tripping her up. She fell heavily against the door and looked at him in surprise. Then he barked around, jumping up on top of her.
“Okay, well, that’s as clear as day,” she muttered, and then she laughed because she was unhurt, but he was obviously happy that she was where she was. “Sorry, buddy. Apparently this is a bad deal, huh?”
Just then she heard a vehicle racing up the driveway. She looked at Mugs and said, “And here’s our knight in shining armor.” And, with that, Mugs barked, now sounding overjoyed. She laughed as he headed toward the front door. She got up and went to the front door, then undid the alarm, and, as soon as she did so, Mack was there with his face glaring at her. Then suddenly he stiffened.
“What’s the matter?” she groaned.
A woman behind him spoke. “Go in with your hands up,” Denise said, “or I’ll blow off both your heads.”
Chapter 30
Doreen stared at Mack in shock.
He looked at her and told her, “Back up.”
She stared at him. “Did she come up behind you?”
He glared, and she realized that he’d come barreling up to the front door, more concerned about Doreen than anything else, and had put himself in a bad spot. She backed up slowly to see Denise standing behind Mack. She had climbed up the front steps, holding the gun on him.
“Wow. When you say you need help, you really do,” Doreen said. “Have you found yourself a nice shrink somewhere? I guess we’ll get one for you in prison.”
“Don’t laugh at me,” she sneered. “Pathetic people like you make me cry with pain at how society has fallen.”
“You mean because we care about people and because we don’t kill off everybody?” Doreen asked curiously.
“You don’t know anything about it,” Denise said. “You live in your high-and-mighty little house here, looking like you’ve never even known what troubles are.”
Mack sent a warning glare to Doreen to not engage the crazy woman.
“Troubles like yours, no,” Doreen replied, “I haven’t. But I do understand that you’ve had some problems.”
“I did time,” she said, “time that I didn’t have to do, that I shouldn’t have had to.”
Doreen stared at her. “That hasn’t come up in anything.”
“No,” she said, “because they put me in a mental hospital instead of prison.”
“I can see that,” Doreen said, with a quick nod to her head. “Nothing you’ve said so far makes a whole lot of sense.”
At that, Denise jabbed the gun barrel into Mack’s back.
Aware she was the target of his glare, Doreen shrugged and said, “Okay, so you don’t want me to say anything to her, but, honest to God, she’s been kind of difficult to sort out this whole time,” she said apologetically to Mack.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Denise said. “They said I killed my mother, but I didn’t kill her.”
“Okay, so you’ve told me that,” she said, “and you’ve given me information to look into the case.”
“That’s right, and I want you to,” she said, “because I didn’t kill her. Somebody else did.”
“And your stepfather has been supporting you?”
“He helped me get out of the center,” she said, “and, once they tested me as fully functional, then I was released into his care. That was about four years ago, and I’ve been with him ever since.”
“Right,” Doreen said, “and doing the whole crime wave thing with him?”
“No, we had jobs, and we were doing just fine. Right up until somebody who was after my uncle turned up, and my uncle called us for help.”
“Right,” she said, “and why bring you here?”
Mack grimaced, not liking Doreen’s engagement with Denise, but he was listening intently to their exchange.
“It’s where Uncle Dicky worked, and it’s also where the other guy worked.”
“So you know who’s after him? The one who killed your other uncle?”
“We think so, yes,” she said, “but we’re not sure.”
“Fine. I get that, but what I don’t get,” Doreen said, “is who this person is.”
“It was my uncle’s partner in crime.”
“Ah, so your uncle cheated him out of his share, and now he wants his share of the money, is that it?”
“He also did time with my other uncle, but, because they were in different penitentiaries, he never realized that the one who didn’t do the crime was the one who went to prison, and his partner, Uncle Dicky, the one who did do the crime, got off free and clear.”
“So that means what? He feels like money and time were stolen from him, due to all the years of his life he spent in jail because his partner got free and he didn’t? So he wants the $100,000 to carry on with his life, without mentioning the rest to anyone? Considering how many years he may have lost to jail, it’s not a bad deal.”
“It doesn’t matter, but my uncle Dicky doesn’t have that kind of money, and now this guy has killed his brother, Uncle Charlie. Uncle Charlie, who didn’t do the crime but did pay the price, didn’t have a clue what the guy was talking about, and that’s when the guy realized he had the wrong brother. The two looked similar, but the years in jail were hard on the one brother.”
“So why are you here right now?” Doreen asked.
She shrugged. “Because my stepfather told me to come.”
“No,” Doreen said. “You keep blaming other people, and you keep saying you’re a victim,” she said, looking back at Mack, who studied her closely. “I don’t believe you. All you’ve done is throw out red herrings. But you’re not really helping us figure this out.”
“That’s because you’re too stupid to figure it out.”
“No, I’m not,” she snapped. “I’m really tired of people telling me that I’m stupid when I’m not,” Doreen said, her anger rising.
“Yeah, who’s telling you that you’re stupid?” she said. “’Cause maybe they’ve been right all along.”
“My ex for one,” Doreen said, “and I’m not.” She could feel the old ire surge over her. Mugs barked at her feet, as if understanding just how upset she was. She reached down, patted him, and said, “It’s okay, boy. I know. I’m getting upset,
and I promised you that I wouldn’t do that anymore.”
“Oh, good Lord,” Denise said sarcastically. “Listen to her—talking to the dog, like he’s actually somebody.”
“My dog is somebody,” she said, looking at the woman. “If you had an empathetic bone in your body, you would understand that.”
“I don’t,” she said, “so it doesn’t matter.”
“No, what matters right now,” Doreen said, “is why you’re here at all. Because, if you didn’t kill your uncle and if you know who did, you’ve got no business being here at all. You’ve already given me the information that you said you wanted me to have in order to solve your mother’s murder, but now you’re here holding a gun on a cop. Why would you do that?” she asked.
“A cop?” Denise’s startled face peered around Mack’s side.
“A cop,” Doreen said, nodding her head. “Not smart.”
“Oh no,” she said, and the woman backed up ever-so-slightly. She looked over at Mack. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
“Yeah, you did.” Doreen stepped forward. “He asked you questions about your supposedly kidnapped uncle Dicky. All you do is lie and cheat. What is really going on here?”
Mack looked at Denise and asked her, “Split personality?”
“What?” Doreen looked at him, then at Denise, immediately detecting fury in Denise’s voice as it changed again.
“I do not have a split personality,” she said, “but, when you bring out the temper in me, I can do some crazy things,” she admitted.
“Wow,” Doreen said. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“Nope, nobody is,” she said. “It’s not a split personality. It’s just that the anger allows me to do what I want to do, and right now I’m really pissed at the world.”
“Why is that?” Doreen said. “Because again, you’ve got no reason to be here.”
“Because, when I was here before,” she said, “I stashed something in your house. And now I want it.”
“And you could have gotten it at any time,” she said, “when nobody was here. So why are you here now?”
“Because I do know he’s a cop,” she said, laughing with that same craziness that Doreen had come to recognize as being off. “And I want that information before it goes to wherever it is you think you’ll send it.”
“What information?”
“The information I gave you,” she said.
A bewildered Doreen looked at Mack, who gave her a nod.
“You mean, the USB key?”
“Yes,” she said.
“But you gave it to me,” Doreen said. “Why would you want to take it away now?”
The woman looked at her and said, “Because it wasn’t me who gave it to you.”
Doreen shook her head. “Oh, brother.”
“Like I said,” Mack noted, his tone very soft.
And Doreen realized two personalities were here in Denise, and one had given Doreen the key for safekeeping because she really cared about her mother, and now the other one was here to get it back because she had killed her mother. “So let me get this straight. You killed your mother, but your alter ego gave me the information, so I could solve the crime, but because she doesn’t know about you—”
“Oh, she knows about me all right,” she interrupted, “but she doesn’t know that I killed Mother.”
“And you’ve kept that from her.”
“Of course,” she said. “I mean, we love each other. We’re sisters.”
“So how bad was the abuse from your stepdad?”
“Pretty bad,” she said, “but again, what would you know about it?”
“More than you might think,” she said, studying her carefully. “So all these years that you were abused by your stepdad, your mom was abused by your stepdad too, and you took the same beatings as she did. And this is your way of dealing with it, right?”
Denise shrugged.
“That is what brought you into existence, right?”
“Maybe,” she said carelessly, “but what do you care?”
“I do care,” she said, “and I’m so sorry that this happened to you.”
“Whatever,” she snapped, her voice turning hard. “Nobody gives a shit anyway.”
“You’d be surprised,” Doreen said. “I understand the need for self-preservation. I understand looking after ourselves and doing whatever is needed to make that happen,” she said. “And the fact that the second personality was created through the abuse and that you killed your mother over it, all means that your mother was abusive.”
“She was just like him, and he’s the one who saved me from her. At least from the worst of it. And then, when she was gone, he’s the one who helped me hide it,” she said. “But now my stepdad’s in trouble too, and I’m trying to save him.”
Doreen considered that, computed the information, trying to determine whether it was right or wrong, then shook her head. “No, you’re not,” she said, hearing Mack’s soft groan and sharp look. “You’re here trying to save yourself. Because this guy, your uncle’s partner, he didn’t kill your other uncle. You did.”
She looked at her in surprise. “Why would you say that?”
“Because you thought it was the other uncle. You can’t tell them apart.” Then she stopped, a look of understanding crossing her face. “I get it. One of you can tell them apart, but the other one can’t.”
“I can tell them apart just fine,” she sneered. “But he laughed at me and told me that I was crazy.”
“Ah, so you killed Charlie and then blamed this other guy who’s after your uncle Dicky, his partner in crime. Got it,” she said. “Wow, this is just so twisted.”
“It’s not twisted at all,” she snapped. “And you don’t know anything.”
“You know what? You could be right,” she said. “In this instance, you could be right.” She looked at Mack. “I really don’t know what we’re supposed to do now though.”
“You’re not supposed to do anything now,” the woman sneered. “I’m doing it all.”
“Good. What is it you’re doing?” Doreen asked. Mack stiffened. But Doreen barreled on. “By the way, may I speak to the other woman?”
“No,” she said, “you can’t.”
“Why not?” Doreen asked.
“Because I don’t want you talking to her.”
“Oh, that’s right. You’re afraid. Sorry about that. Fear is kind of ugly. By the way,” she said, “have you ever seen Thaddeus?”
The woman looked at her in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
Doreen called out, “Thaddeus, are you here?”
Thaddeus poked his head around the living room wall from the kitchen. “Thaddeus is here. Thaddeus is here.”
The woman looked at her, then at the bird, and said, “Jeez, you really are crazy, aren’t you?”
“I don’t think so,” Doreen said.
“I mean, I’m holding you both at gunpoint. I’ve got a gun on you, and you’ve got a cop here, who’s likely to get shot, and here you are talking about your bird.”
“I am talking about my bird,” Doreen said, with a bright smile. “Because these animals have been very important to me, and they’re really, really good at doing one thing.”
“What’s that?” Denise asked suspiciously.
Doreen looked at her innocently. “Protecting me,” she said.
The woman started to laugh. “Nobody around here will protect you right now,” she said.
Doreen watched, as Goliath crept in the front door, still open, coming up behind the woman.
“You could be wrong about that,” Doreen said. “Just when you least expect it, animals do things out of love for their owners.”
“Nobody loves anybody,” the woman said bitterly. “As I well know.”
“And I’m sorry about that,” Doreen said, “because obviously you’ve not had a very easy life. And this extra part of you is there to protect you.” Doreen understood now that this version of Denis
e had a handle on what was going on, so she really did understand and was protecting the other version of Denise. It was sad, and it was heartbreaking that it had come to this in Denise’s tormented life, but Doreen understood why somebody would end up having to have another part of her be strong enough to do what was needed. “I’m surprised you didn’t kill your stepfather though, when ultimately he was part of the same problem.”
“But then he saved me from the nuthouse,” she said quietly, “so I couldn’t do that to him.’
Doreen nodded. “And, of course, he knows that you killed your mother. And he knows that you killed your uncle too, doesn’t he?”
“I imagine he suspects. I mean, neither Uncle Dicky nor my stepdad are killers, and I’m the only one who’s killed anybody. So, if somebody ends up dying, my stepdad kind of looks to who might be responsible,” she said, with a laugh. “But he doesn’t know anything for sure.”
“Right, and what about this guy who supposedly sent the blackmail note and is supposedly after your uncle Dicky?”
“That was just to throw everyone off the scent. My stepdad did that.”
“So nobody else is really involved in this case, is there?”
“Nope, it’s just the three of us.”
“You mean, the four of you,” she murmured, counting Denise twice. “So your brother didn’t kill anybody, but was searching for Dicky, hence why he had to hide via a fake kidnapping. But he was going to find Charlie so you killed him before your brother had a chance to talk to him. Then what about Dicky’s partner in crime?”
She shrugged and said, “He’s gone.”
“Has anybody else gone?”
“You mean, did I kill anyone else? No, not yet,” she said. “But I might have to change that.”
“Right,” Doreen said. “After all, why would you leave anybody alive who could identify you?”
“Something like that,” she said. “It’s not even so much about identification as much as it’s about understanding.”
“No,” Doreen said. “See? I don’t understand why you would kill your uncle.”
“Because he found out that I’d killed my mother,” she said. “I told you that she was his sister.”