by Amy Vansant
Stephanie refilled her glass and returned. “Because I’m her daughter.”
Charlotte and Declan’s jaws both fell.
“You’re the Puzzle Killer’s daughter?” echoed Charlotte.
“Suddenly so much makes sense,” mumbled Declan. “No...wait...your mother just died and there’s no way Miss Debbie was the Puzzle Killer. I mean, she was crazy, but—”
“Debbie adopted me. My real mother is alive and trying to kill me.”
“What’s her name?” asked Charlotte.
Stephanie twisted her lips to the right. “I can’t say.”
“Can’t or won’t.”
“Both.”
“But you’re sure she intends to kill you?”
“I just met her for the first time a couple of weeks ago and I thought we were reconnecting pretty well, but between the electric chair and me, well, I dunno. She is a serial killer, after all.”
Charlotte sighed. “But killing your own daughter? How do you know? Maybe she has no intention of killing you. She obviously told you who she is; she must trust you.”
“And she told you about Alex,” added Declan. “Why would she tell you she’s going to have to kill you for him?”
Stephanie shot back the last of her second glass of wine. “She didn’t tell me.”
“Then how do you know all this?”
“Let’s just say I have my sources, and my sources say she’s not planning on going to jail anytime soon. The fact that she told me who she is, is just another reason for her to want me dead.”
Declan’s gaze moved to Stephanie’s suitcase. “So you were planning to stay here?”
“If that’s okay,” said Stephanie, her voice soft.
Declan looked at Charlotte, who stood.
“You’ll stay with me.”
Stephanie’s head swiveled. “Huh?”
“Your mother found you, so she knows about you. She might know that you and Declan dated.”
Declan made an “ack” noise at the memory of his time with Stephanie and she glared at him.
“The point is,” continued Charlotte. “It isn’t safe for you to be here. Not for either of you; so you can stay with me. If she knows about Declan, my house is the last place on Earth she’d look for you.”
Stephanie remained speechless, her lip curled, staring at Charlotte as if she were asking her to help unclog a toilet.
“I, I have to use the ladies,” she said, striding across the room and disappearing down the hall.
“So what are the chances this is all a ruse to plant herself in your house?” asked Charlotte once they heard the bathroom door shut.
“Fifty-fifty. I’m glad you’re here for so many reasons. I don’t think I could have kicked her to the curb on the off chance this is real, but you devised the perfect solution.”
Charlotte chuckled. “Maybe for you. I just asked a succubus to be my roommate.”
Declan hugged her. “You’re the best.”
“I am.”
He kissed her and then leaned away as a thought popped into his head. “Oh, hey! While I have a moment with you, did I tell you about Lester?’
“Lester? The guy who’s been hitting on Auntie Carolina?”
“You know about that?”
She nodded. “He’s got it bad. Mariska says it’s because of Carolina’s massive boobs.”
“Okay, I didn’t need to hear that.”
“Sorry.”
“Anyway, Lester is on our bowling team and he freaked out last night. Said his car was broken and asked for a ride home. Next thing I know, the cops pull me over and take him away.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, but they were clearly there for him in the first place. Lester got into my back seat and laid down.”
“Oh my. I guess Auntie Carolina’s instincts are right on. She doesn’t want any part of him.”
They heard a flush and Stephanie re-entered. Her expression twisted and she sniffed.
“Do you smell smoke?” she asked.
Declan’s attention shot to the stove. Around the edge of the oven door dark smoke slithered like snakes.
“My chicken!” he yelped, running to the stove.
“Time to switch to red wine,” said Stephanie. “Looks like we’re having pizza.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Charlotte returned home and found her door unlocked. Inside, she found Mariska and Carolina sitting in her kitchen, chatting over coffee. Abby trotted up to her, tail wagging, and gave her kneecaps a sniff. She spotted the naked cat flopped over Carolina’s shoulder.
“Looks like you have a friend,” she said. “I guess I’m going to have to name that thing.”
“Mister Coppertone,” said Carolina, reaching up to scratch the cat’s face. Charlotte could hear it purring from ten feet away.
“What?”
“Remember the Coppertone ads with the dog pulling the little girl’s bikini bottoms down to show her tan line?”
“I’ve seen them in old movies. I don’t so much remember them.”
“I named him Mister Coppertone because he has a naked butt.”
“Isn’t that great?” asked Mariska. “Plus, who would need sunblock more than a furless cat?”
Charlotte raised one eyebrow. “Why Mister Coppertone?”
Carolina looked at her like she was crazy. “Because he’s a boy cat.”
“Right. Of course. So, what are you two doing here?”
“We’re hiding from the Bourbon Club,” said Mariska.
“Men drinking are about as stupid as things can get,” muttered Carolina.
Stephanie entered behind Charlotte.
“Who is she?” asked Carolina, eyeballing Stephanie as if she smelled funny.
“She’s...” Charlotte thought about her answer. There was no way to explain that she was harboring her boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend because her mother was trying to kill her—without Carolina’s head exploding. She looked at Mariska, and found her staring at her, shaking her head ever so slightly, as if begging her not to offer any explanation that would set off her sister.
“She’s a friend of mine,” said Charlotte.
Stephanie’s gaze swept the room and as it passed the pink cat leering from Carolina’s shoulder, she flinched. “For the love of—what is that?”
“Mister Coppertone. Long story.” Charlotte turned her attention to the ladies. “Stephanie is going to stay here while her apartment is being painted.”
“She’s—” Mariska sounded alarmed but cut herself short by slapping her hand over her mouth.
Subtle. She obviously remembered Stephanie.
“Hi,” Mariska added, removing her hand to offer a tiny wave in Stephanie’s direction.
“Hi,” said Stephanie.
“You hired someone to paint your apartment?” asked Carolina. “Painting is easy. You could have saved a lot of money. What are you paying them?”
Stephanie looked at Charlotte and she returned the stare with a hard look she hoped telegraphed play along.
Stephanie sighed. “They’re friends of mine. They’re doing it for a case of beer.”
“Beer,” muttered Carolina. “I hope you didn’t buy it for them before they finished or it will never get done.”
“What colors did you decide on?” asked Mariska.
Charlotte squinted at her and Mariska bit her lip, looking as though she’d realized she’d been sucked into a lie that didn’t need extra details, like paint color. “Nevermind. It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled.
Carolina was still staring at Stephanie.
Stephanie stared back.
Carolina squinted.
Oh no.
“What kind of skirt is that?” asked Carolina, pointing at Stephanie’s above-the-knee outfit.
“It’s a Valli,” said Stephanie.
“Frankie?”
“Giambattista.”
Carolina snorted. “What’s that? Mexican?”
“Italian.”
<
br /> “Where’d you get it?”
“Why?”
“You should go back and get the rest of it.” Carolina started cackling and though Mariska tried to restrain her laughter, a moment later she began tittering as well.
Stephanie took a step forward. “It’s a nine hundred dollar—”
“Don’t,” said Charlotte, touching Stephanie’s arm. “Let’s take your things to the guest room.”
Stephanie huffed and snatched her overnight bag from the ground. With one last glare at Carolina she turned to follow Charlotte down the hall, but she didn’t make it far. Instead, she bumped into Charlotte, both of them nearly falling.
“Smooth,” called Carolina. Mariska giggled.
“What are you doing?” hissed Stephanie.
Charlotte plucked something from the floor and held it up. It was an earring, with a blue stone in the center, encircled by tiny pearls.
“Did you lose an earring?”
Stephanie felt her ear lobe with the hand not holding her bag.
“I did.” She covered her ear with her hair and held out her palm.
Charlotte reached up and pushed back Stephanie’s hair, revealing a silver shell earring. The other ear was already visible and sporting the shell’s twin. “You’re wearing two earrings.”
“Uh huh.”
“Neither of which look like this one.”
“It must have come out of my bag.”
“Out of your bag?”
“Or it was on my bag. I packed in a hurry. I probably knocked one on to my bag. It’s definitely mine though. One of my favorites. Thank you for finding it.”
Charlotte pursed her lips. Stephanie was lying, this she knew. But the earring wasn’t hers. She walked past Stephanie and showed the jewelry to Mariska and Carolina.
“Did one of you lose an earring?”
They peered at it and both shook their heads.
“That’s beautiful,” said Mariska. “I wish it was mine.”
Charlotte sighed and returned to Stephanie who again thrust out her palm. She placed the earring into it and walked past her to the guest room.
Stephanie followed. “Your friends are charming,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Abby entered and, having not received her obligatory pets from the visitor, pushed her head into Stephanie’s knees. She extended her leg to push away the dog.
“Carolina is what we like to call opinionated,” said Charlotte.
“She’s what I like to call a b—”
“Hey,” said Charlotte, holding up her hand. “She’s basically my aunt, so watch it.”
“Fine.”
“And if you push my dog again I’m going to tie you to the post office flag pole with a sign around your neck that says Come and get me.”
“I might prefer that,” grumbled Stephanie staring at the bed. “What’s the count on these sheets?”
“Two. The flat one and the one that’s impossible to fold.”
There was a knock at the front door and Abby, who had been skulking nearby waiting for a second chance at Stephanie, ripped out of the room, barking.
“It’s like grand central station in this place,” said Stephanie. “How can anyone live like this?”
Charlotte ignored her and went to answer the door. She found Carolina had beaten her to it, the cat still perched on her shoulder like a pirate’s parrot.
“Who are you?” said Carolina, her tone implying the visitor better have an excellent answer.
“I’m—”
“That’s Seamus,” said Charlotte peering over Carolina’s shoulder. “He’s Declan’s uncle and my quasi-boss.” She shooed Carolina out of the way. The cat growled at her.
“Oh, your boss stops by at night?” asked Carolina, her eyebrows so high on her forehead they forgot what her eyes looked like. She stood her ground at the entrance, eyeing Seamus up and down.
“You could be her father,” she hissed at him.
Seamus winked. “Nah, she’s too good lookin’ to be my daughter.”
Carolina grunted and returned to Mariska’s side, her lips pressed in a tight, white line as her sister attempted to explain Seamus’ innocent relationship with Charlotte.
“You shouldn’t taunt her,” whispered Charlotte to Seamus. “We don’t poke the bull.”
“She knows she has a baboon’s ass on her shoulder, right?” Seamus grinned at his own joke, but his smile melted like butter in a hot pan. His gaze had drifted past Charlotte, and she turned to find Stephanie standing there.
“What’s she doin’ here?” he asked, taking a step inside.
Charlotte shot Carolina a glance and pushed Seamus back. She followed him outside and shut the door behind her.
“Are you runnin’ a home for abandoned harpies now?” he asked.
As quickly and quietly as she could, Charlotte explained Stephanie’s homicidal matriarch.
“So...the person doin’ all the killing was trying to get the attention of the Puzzle Killer, who happens to be Stephanie’s real mother?” Seamus said, his voice growing higher in pitch with every word.
“In a nutshell.”
“Does she know anything else about this person pullin’ her mother’s strings?”
“She said his name is Alex. Oh, and Stephanie’s mom is probably responsible for the poisonings.”
“She said that?”
“It was implied that those deaths were her mother’s answer to Alex.”
Seamus rubbed his hand across his hair. “Alex. Well, I guess that’s somethin’ to tell Simone. I don’t think she’ll pay us for it, but it’s a lead. Maybe she knows one of her WitSec people is obsessed with the Puzzle Killer. This could be something.”
“Maybe. That would be good. If we could lock up whoever is blackmailing Stephanie’s mother, then she won’t have any reason to kill Stephanie.”
“Well, now that you mention it, we don’t have to rush or anything—”
Charlotte shook her head. “That’s not funny.”
“Sorry. I’m kidding.” He shook his head.
“What is it?”
“I dunno. I’m thinking when you find out your mother is trying to kill you, your first thought isn’t how to stop her. It’s how could my own mother be trying to kill me.”
“Yeah, that’s an ouchy for sure.”
“How’s she doin’?”
She shrugged. “She’s as warm and fuzzy as ever. Unfased. When I got to Declan’s she was crying, but I think that was more for his benefit than any true outpouring of emotion. Plan A was for her to stay with him and I’m afraid I interfered.”
“Aye, I’ve seen her waterworks before. Declan’s soft-hearted, but I’d like to think isn’t an idiot. Still, probably best you were there. We’re all mostly idiots.”
Charlotte smiled. “What’re you here for, anyway?”
“Oh, I was over at Jackie’s and thought I’d walk by and ask you if you wanted to come with me to that puzzle maker’s house tomorrow to see if we can find anything. But this new information changes all that. I’m going to swing by and tell Simone what we know first.”
“Everything good with Jackie?”
Seamus scowled. “Yes, why?”
She shrugged. “Just making conversation.”
“Hm.”
There was a yell from inside.
“I guess I better get back in there,” said Charlotte, opening the door.
Seamus saluted her and headed down the driveway.
Charlotte found Mariska clapping. Stephanie and Carolina were both rubbing their arms. Carolina’s massive smile threatened to split her face in two.
“What is going on?” asked Charlotte.
“Carolina beat Stephanie arm wrestling,” said Mariska.
“Arm wrestling?”
“I never turn down a challenge,” said Stephanie. “But then, I’ve never been about brute strength. I’m more about finesse.”
“I’m more about winning,” said Carolina. She high-five
d Mariska. As she leaned forward Mister Coppertone took a swipe at Stephanie, who backed away just in time.
Charlotte couldn’t believe the cat who had been such a wimp since arriving, suddenly seemed like a little tough guy.
“I’ll kill you next time,” said Stephanie. She grinned at Carolina and headed down the hall.
Carolina watched as she left and then looked at Charlotte. “Keep an eye on that one.”
“Oh, I know,” said Charlotte, rolling her eyes.
“We know,” echoed Mariska, mimicking Charlotte’s eye roll. “You know what? She once tried to steal a costume contest from us—”
Carolina shook her head and cut her sister short. “There’s something off about her.”
“Yeah the rest of her skirt!” said Mariska, slapping her sister’s shoulder. The two of them started laughing and Charlotte closed her eyes. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Seamus knocked on Simone’s door, making a mental note to stay on his toes. The last time he’d visited her house he’d ended up handcuffed to her wall. There would be no funny business this time. He was here on official business.
Simone opened the door and stared at him through the screen. “Yes?”
“I’ve got some information for you.”
Simone opened the outer door and stepped on to the porch. Without speaking, she brushed past him and he jumped.
“Are you well?” she asked.
“Fine. Fine,” muttered Seamus.
She sat on a built-in bench and crossed her legs. “Tell me your news.”
“I’ve got some information about those killings.”
“You know who’s doing them?”
“No. But I can tell you why he’s doing them. I thought if you knew that, you could see if it rang any bells for you and your witness protection people.”
She nodded. “Sounds good. Go on.”
Seamus eyed the bench on which Simone sat. It was small, and the only seating available. He rocked forward with every intention of sitting beside her, and then rocked back, unsure that was the right move. This happened several more times.
“Why does it look like you’re on a ship?” asked Simone.
“Sorry. I, er...” He took a step back and leaned against the railing. “This is good.”
“I’m so happy. Tell me your news.”
“Right. My nephew’s ex-girlfriend came by his house yesterday. She said her mother is trying to kill her because the person who killed the puzzle fella and the alligator fella is forcing her to do it.”