by Sam Cheever
James ended the heated conversation and slipped his phone into his pocket. Judging by the expression on his dark, handsome face, he didn’t have good news.
“You don’t need to kill me.”
“I’m afraid I do.”
“I won’t tell anybody about the knife, though I have no idea why you’re leaving it there if it implicates you for Allie Landon’s murder.”
“Because it doesn’t implicate me.”
I had to think about that one for a minute. Then it all fell together. The perfect crime puzzle. “That knife incriminates Tomlinson, doesn’t it? You’re using it to pressure him into working with the cartel?”
I didn’t realize until that moment that the snippets of his phone conversation I’d heard had been in Spanish. My panicked brain had only been half concentrating on the conversation.
“Smart girl.”
“But I don’t understand. You did everything you could to point us toward the cartel and away from Tomlinson.”
“Haven’t you been paying attention, May? If I’d have told Eddie to look at Tomlinson, he’d have focused on the cartel.”
He wasn’t wrong. But Eddie was going to be really ticked when he found out how easy he was to manipulate. “Did Tomlinson even kill her?”
“No. And he didn’t kill Josh Mitner either.”
“You killed them both.”
“Unfortunately, yes. And thank you for proving to me why I need to kill you too.”
Stupid May. Stupid.
I shook my head. “My family will hunt you down. They know what I was investigating. They’ll figure out I was killed because of the Tomlinson case and they’ll find you.”
He shrugged. “If that happens, I’ll have to take the appropriate measures.”
All the blood rushed from my face. He’d kill my family too. I could tell by looking into the coldly handsome features in front of me that he’d kill anyone who got in his way. Easily and without remorse.
“I think you’ll have more trouble getting to them than you did me. They’re much smarter.”
He smiled and it was surprisingly warm. “Don’t underestimate yourself, May. Nobody else even got close to figuring out the knife thing. Nobody. Only you. I think you’re very smart. And you have a knack for this investigating thing. Too bad you’re not going to be able to explore that.”
He lifted the gun.
The doorbell rang.
James and I both turned toward the broken front door.
He frowned. The bell rang again. He thought about it for another minute and then grabbed my arm, jerking me to my feet. James pressed the gun against my temple, digging it painfully into my skull. “You don’t say anything unwise…get it?”
I nodded, the cool metal digging into my scalp.
“If they ask, you’re here to clean up.”
I nodded again.
He shoved me toward the door and followed me over, stopping me just long enough to peer through the view hole at the top. Then he nodded, moving silently to a spot behind the door.
I grasped the handle, pulled it open, and found myself looking at a woman with tangled gray hair and stooped shoulders. She leaned heavily on a cane, her head bowed and the tangled mess of hair falling over her features.
She held a leash in one hand. The leash moved and a strident yip sounded. A small, furry creature launched itself at me, whining desperately.
I grabbed Shakes and pulled him into my arms before I thought about what I was doing.
The old lady’s head lifted and I frowned. That was the ugliest…
The space behind me shifted, boiling into movement as someone shouted my name and the old woman said, “Dude.”
“Down, May!” That was Argh. I shifted sideways and dropped to the ground as shots were fired.
The wood near my head splintered and someone called out.
A hard grip found my arm, wrenching me upward. Shakes flew away from me with a throaty snarl, his tiny teeth flashing toward the offensive grip.
His teeth sank deep and he held on as James tried to shake him loose.
But his name was Shakes, after all. He rode out the attempt, his jaw firm on James’ gun hand.
The gun fell into my lap just as James swung his arm to the side, Shakes’ tiny body heading for the wall.
I screamed, clutching the gun in desperation. I pulled the trigger and James collapsed toward the ground, screaming and holding his right knee.
A big hand snapped out and blocked his arm, twisting it downward so I could grab hold of Shakes.
“Let go, little man,” I said, my voice thick with tears.
Shakes did as he was told and Eddie yanked James away from us, slamming him to the ground. He put a knee in the center of James’ back, holding him down while Argh dragged his arms around and cuffed him.
As Argh shoved a badly limping James out the front door, Eddie knelt down in front of my dog and me.
I held Shakes in a death grip, my face buried in his fur, and he was soaked with my tears.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded. “I can’t believe you brought Doug in undercover.” I grinned through my tears.
He cocked his head. “Dude.”
We laughed, and it felt really good as a release to the unending tension of the last hour.
21
The four of us sat in my father’s kitchen. Me, Eddie, Argh, and the Lieutenant. The three men were getting along better than I’d expected. I figured it was because they were united in one goal. Keeping me out of trouble.
They might need more people.
I would have added Shakes to the mix since he always protected me too, but the Pom was currently draped across my dad’s lap, ignoring me.
I grinned.
“What’s so funny, Punkin’?” my dad asked.
I shook my head. “It’s just nice being here with all of you.”
Shakes lifted his tiny head and settled his chin on the table, giving me goo-goo eyes across the table. He still loved me even though his favorite cop was in the room.
We’d been talking over the details of the James bust. I’d just asked Eddie how he’d known about James.
“You know how I told you I had some things to check out before? When James was coming over to stay with you?”
I nodded.
“Well, I went to James Security again. I spoke to Dani…”
Argh’s attention perked. “Dani Kraft?”
Eddie waggled his brows. “She likes you too. You two should hook up.”
“Hey there!” growled the Lieutenant. “There’ll be no talk of hooking up in my house.”
We all grinned. Except for my dad, of course. But his fuzzy friend seemed to be grinning too, and his tail gave a few half-hearted wags beneath the table.
“Anyway, I told her I was interested in hiring the company long term…”
I frowned. “Really? Why?”
“It was just a ruse. I wanted to find out what kind of arrangement James had with Alex Mitner.”
“You thought there was something hinky going on there?” my dad asked.
“I don’t know what I was thinking, to be honest. But James had said some things that had my radar up. I wanted to find out who else he was working with. I asked her for a list of current references. I thought I’d find Tomlinson on the list.”
“Did you?” Argh asked.
“I did not. Which was almost weirder than if I had found him there. James has made his reputation from working with high profile clients. But the strange thing is, his rep just kind of appeared one day. There was no slow build up. One day he was babysitting a naughty college girl for her worried parents and the next he was moving into an expensive building and had a fleet of black SUVs.”
“He was being backed by somebody with a lot of money,” I speculated.
“That’s what I thought. And Alex Mitner has money, but not that kind of money. This would take a serious amount of throwaway cash.”
“Like the money a d
rug cartel would have, for example?” my dad asked.
“Bingo.” Eddie nodded. “James did a good job of throwing us off his scent. When he met May and me in that diner, he seemed to be protecting Tomlinson. But his story about Allie Landon meeting up with an arrogant businessman in the bar was meant to throw suspicion at the man everybody believed killed her.”
“We talked about that and you said it didn’t seem important.”
He nodded. “That’s what James wanted us to think. That it was just a little spat between lovers. But it led us to the obvious next conclusion.”
“That Tomlinson had killed Josh and Allie out of jealousy.” I nodded.
“Yeah. And when the knife was found, Tomlinson’s goose would be cooked.”
“Tomlinson’s print was on the knife,” Argh said.
“He was being set up by the cartel,” Eddie said. “If he didn’t play ball when he became Mayor, they’d make sure that knife was found.”
“Wait,” I said. “You lost me. If Tomlinson didn’t kill Allie, why’d he hide the knife?”
“He didn’t. Your idea of how it got in the bushes was close to the truth, but not exactly right. James hid the knife there after he killed Allie because he knew the police would assume the scenario you laid out. That Tomlinson used his retching incident to hide it where he didn’t think the police would look.”
“But if they wanted to finger Tomlinson, why hide it so well?” I asked.
“It was meant to be insurance, in case Tomlinson didn’t do what Sugar wanted him to.”
“Then, James did work for the cartel,” I said.
“He did their wet work. If somebody needed to be taken out, he’d do it. That kept all suspicion far away from them. Since there was no record of any association between them and him…”
“I take it he was paid in cash?” my dad asked.
Eddie nodded.
“Unfortunately, if there’s no direct connection between James and the cartel, it’ll just be his word against mine that he killed Josh and Allie.” Then I had a thought. “Wait, that night I was atta―erm―by the pool…” I risked a quick glance at my dad and found him petting Shakes. I relaxed. He apparently hadn’t heard my slip.
“The night you were attacked at the Mitner’s,” the Lieutenant asked, lifting a stern gaze my way. “Don’t play me for a doddering old fool, Punkin’.”
I sighed. “That night. You were going into the house to look for Josh’s phone. Did the Mitner’s have it? We got sidetracked and you never mentioned it.”
“No. James must have grabbed it before leaving the scene.”
“But we don’t need it,” Argh said. “We have the phone records for the cell James carried. It shows a call to Josh right before the accident. All by itself it’s not enough…”
“Not quite,” Eddie said with a grin. “But, that current reference list I mentioned? It also included a small startup trash company on the North side of Asheville.”
I felt my pulse spike. “You found the truck that hit Josh?”
“He did,” Argh said. “And there were minute traces of paint from Josh’s car on the bumper. But even better, we have James’ DNA from the cab of that same truck.”
I grinned. “We got him.”
“Yes we did, Punkin,” the Lieutenant said, sharing my grin. “Nice work.”
I beamed back at him.
“Never do it again,” he said, glaring at Eddie and me.
My smile died a cruel death.
“But why did Sugar Morellis have Josh killed?” I asked.
“We knew the cartel had been pressuring Alex to work with them,” Eddie said.
I nodded.
“What we didn’t know is that those cash payments we believed were bribes were actually protection payouts. Sugar had been bleeding Alex and Leland dry in an attempt to force Alex to capitulate...”
“Wait,” I said. “They were taking money from Doc Leland too?”
“He’s a silent partner at Mitner Enterprises,” Argh told me.
Eddie nodded. “Those payments are what we think Josh discovered. The large payouts to the Mexican restaurant on the south end of Asheville that was Morellis’ base of operations. Leland let it slip when Sugar’s goons were strong-arming him one day that he thought Josh saw the ledger and put the pieces together.”
“And Josh went to Collen Landon to try to find out if Tomlinson or Allie Landon might have been suffering the same strong-arm tactics,” the Lieutenant said. “He was going to bring the whole thing into the open. Morellis couldn’t allow that.”
“So, Doc Leland was the cause of Josh’s death?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” Eddie said, nodding.
I shook my head, my heart breaking for the doc. He’d be devastated to learn what he’d done.”
The doorbell rang.
Argh surged out of his chair. “Pizza!”
Shakes jumped up and followed Argh to the front door, barking excitedly.
My dad pushed to his feet and hurried after them. “Make sure to give the boy a big tip,” he called out to my brother. Left to his own devices, Argh tended to be a stingy tipper.
Eddie and I looked at each other and smiled. He reached out and grabbed my hand, lifting it to his lips. “I can’t remember the last time I had so much fun on a case.”
I chuckled. “Well, it was my first case, and parts of it were definitely not fun…” I sighed. “But I have to admit it had its moments.”
“You’re good at this investigating thing, May. If you’re ever looking for a change of career…”
A warm flush came over me. Despite the fact that Eddie’s words were hauntingly familiar in a bad way since they’d first come from James, they made me feel good.
I hugged the sentiment close for a beat, enjoying the warm mush in the general vicinity of my pride, and then shoved it away.
I was an actor. I loved what I did. And I couldn’t see myself ever changing.
I told Eddie as much.
He took it with good grace. “Well, maybe you’ll just occasionally want an adventure.”
“You’ll be the first person I call,” I told him.
“Don’t even think it, MayBell Ferth!” the Lieutenant boomed, coming back into the kitchen. “You’re an actress. Not a danged detective.” He moved to the cabinet where the plates were kept, pulling down a stack of them.
“Leave the detecting to those of us who’re trained for it,” Argh agreed. He came into the kitchen holding two large pizza boxes at head level to keep the ever-bouncing ball of fluff at his feet from sinking teeth into one of them.
The Lieutenant smacked Eddie on the arm. “Make yourself useful. Get the beers.”
“I’ll have a diet soda,” I told Eddie. “A girl’s gotta watch her weight.”
My brother snorted. “Yeah, ’cause this is diet pizza.”
I shoved him aside as I headed for the napkins. “Unlike you, I don’t intend to eat six pieces of it, porcine individual.”
He made piggy snorting noises at me.
We settled into the pizza, everybody munching down on their own slice. Even Shakes had a small triangle in front of him and was holding it with his paws, chewing delicately.
The Lieutenant said he was a police dog now and deserved his cut of the booty.
I let him eat it, knowing he’d probably be horking it up on my bed later. Dad was right. He’d earned it.
“Hey, May, what exactly did you tell Dani Kraft about my name?”
I felt Eddie stiffen next to me and threw him a grin. “Mark? Nothing at all. It’s just a name after all. Kind of boring actually.”
“Not that name. Don’t play coy with me, MayBell Ferth.”
I didn’t even wince at the full name thing. I didn’t need to. My brother didn’t have the ammunition he needed to take me down.
I wasn’t the one named Argh. “There might have been some mention of your first date with Cindy Paltrose.”
He threw up his hands. “You didn’t!”<
br />
Even the Lieutenant laughed. “Argh!”
I burst into laughter too. “Argh!”
Eddie didn’t know what he was laughing at, but he enthusiastically joined in because―well―because making fun of my brother was the best entertainment we had at the moment.
And I was happy as a pig in mud to keep it that way.
Argh!
The End
Sneak Peek
Read the first chapter of MOURNING EXPRESS book 3 of The Funeral Fakers…
Gabriel Medina, special effects makeup artist extraordinaire and my best friend, dabbed goo on my cheek that looked like a mixture between snot and pus. A frown formed between his eyes—one I’d seen at least a hundred times. He regarded the work on my face with a professional eye squint, brushing something oozy near my nose. “Let’s run your lines again.”
A drop of the sludge landed on my bottom lip, and I prayed it wouldn’t work its way into my mouth or I’d be on the way to gag-city. “It’s ‘arrggh’ and ‘ugggh.’ I think I can handle it, Gabe.”
“No sarcasm, Rosie. And don’t forget to drag your left leg. The left, got it? The director is a little high-strung and very particular about zombie limp.” He glanced around the makeup trailer where the other zombie extras were getting final checks for their hair. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “And try to change your voice just a little.”
“There’s no way anyone will recognize me in all this zombie goop.” I glanced in the mirror. The makeup looked as if half my face had been eaten away. It reminded me of the quick and messy decay of my acting career. If only Grammy could see me now. I’d also colored my blonde locks a deep golden brown, gained twenty pounds, and used my legal last name again instead of the stage one my former agent insisted upon. The only people who recognized me now had known me as both the freckle-faced gangly teen from Asheville, North Carolina and the actress I’d become in my mid-to-late twenties.
Gabe wiped his makeup brushes down with a cleaning solution and placed them in his tool kit. Still making a name for himself since he’d won season five of the reality show, Monster Makeup Challenge, being associated with someone the press had coined Disaster Diva Rosalind Devoe could put a stain on his career.