by D E Dennis
Kindler turned back to me when she was gone. “Miss Moon, how—”
“Here, Mari.” Arnie ran over to me, cutting her off. “I got you some water. Where’s the medic?” He looked around. “Hey! What the hell are you doing over there? You need to—”
I grabbed his hand. “I’m fine, Arnie. She checked me out already.”
“No, you’re not fine,” he said gruffly. “You could have smoke inhalation. And what about the gas you ingested? We should induce vomiting. And—”
“Stop all that fussing, Davis,” his partner snapped. “So that Miss Moon can tell us what in the world happened here tonight.” She turned her beady eyes on me. “Now.”
I frowned. Still as unpleasant as ever. “Well, it all started because Veronica Breyfogle thought her husband was cheating on her...”
I went through it all again. If I was telling the story to anyone else, I would have gotten frequent gasps and oh my goodnesses but these two hardened detectives listened with stern, pinched-faced silence.
“I was afraid it might have already been too late, and she had skipped town. So, I rushed over here and...you know the rest,” I finished. Arnie handed me the bottled water and I took a grateful sip.
Kindler shook her head. “I’m afraid I’m going to need more than that. You still haven’t explained how you made the leap to Veronica Breyfogle being alive and well.”
I sighed. “It was just like those detective shows, Kindler. I was talking to Kali about Daisy, and she reminded me of the small detail that I had dismissed as unimportant. The last time we spoke to Daisy, she told us she got a new job. This was right before the fire and we haven’t seen or heard from her since.”
Kindler moved to lean again the ambulance. “But that doesn’t mean she’s dead.”
I clenched my fists. “Sadly, I know she is. It’s the only explanation. Kali and I were looking into the other employees who died in the fire. One of them was Sloane Michaels who, like the chef, was also given another chance and hired by Veronica. Daisy was a frequent visitor to Calm Meadows and she’s been to Best Foot Forward. At some point, Veronica and Daisy interacted and Veronica realized she would be perfect.
“I’m guessing she offered her a job working in the store and Daisy trusted it, because Veronica does that sort of thing all the time. Daisy’s first day of work must have been that Saturday on the day of the fire. Veronica was able to trick Daisy into unwittingly going along with Veronica’s plan to fake her own death, because of the day.”
“What day was that?” Arnie questioned.
I nodded. “It was April Fools’ Day,” I stated grimly. “I’m pretty sure Veronica convinced Daisy to help her pull a harmless prank on her employees. Daisy would dress up like her and pretend to be the boss.”
“What?” Kindler scoffed. “Look, if you’re just making all this up—”
“The woman in the black dress,” I snapped. “Daisy was the woman in the black dress.”
“What?” Arnie blinked. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Yuri Stevens said the woman had hairy legs, nothing weird about that until I put it together with what Sandy Lake told me. Sandy said the woman was super uncomfortable in her clothes. She kept tugging and pulling on everything. She also said the woman was pacing back and forth, in and out of the alley. When I copied her movements, I didn’t see the point to them, but that was because I couldn’t see what she would have seen on that day.
“The woman in black was standing behind Best Foot Forward when it was erect, unharmed, and blocking the view of the clock tower. She kept moving into the alley to check the time, so she could know when it was her cue to go inside for their little April Fools’ joke. It’s also why she avoided Yuri, because she didn’t want to be identified. Wouldn’t want to spoil the trick.”
Kindler and Arnie exchanged glances.
“So, we have an unshaven woman,” I continued, “who is clearly not used to wearing fancy clothes and bras, who apparently doesn’t have a cell phone or watch to check the time. Couple that with Veronica’s tendency to hire off the streets and you get—”
“The woman in black was a homeless woman,” Kindler finished. “Okay, I follow you, but why do you think that woman was your friend?”
“Because she’s missing,” I insisted. “And...again...because she had red hair. They had the same unmistakably red hair.”
Arnie sighed heavily as it clicked into place. “Oh no.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “The coroner never matched the DNA.”
I shook my head. “They found the body of a red-haired woman, of a similar height and build, in the office of Veronica Breyfogle, so no one looked any deeper. That’s what the big scarf Veronica had her wear was hiding. Her red hair. If anyone saw her loitering about she didn’t want anyone to say they saw a red-haired woman on the day another red-haired woman was supposed to have died. She thought of everything,” I said bitterly.
I wiped a stray tear away. “Petra Wilson went back to save her boss and she saw who she thought was Veronica slumped over the desk, not moving. Veronica had already knocked Daisy out, set the fire, and made her escape.”
Taking a deep breath, I kept going. “But that was just part of it. There was also the murder of Tad Breyfogle and the person who helped me realize who was behind that, behind everyone, was Nadia Blake. Nadia went to the house the night the mayor was killed to confront him, and she saw the killer through the window, but at the time she didn’t realize she was witnessing a murder, not until I came to her restaurant.
“The shock I sensed from her was disbelief that the person she saw through the window would commit murder, her guilt was because she had still decided to protect him even after I told her Tad Breyfogle was innocent the entire time and hadn’t deserved to die.”
“Him?” Kindler asked.
I nodded. “Through the window of the study, Nadia saw who she thought was Oliver Breyfogle standing over his father. She told me he didn’t know the truth. The he was Oliver. Oliver didn’t know Tad hadn’t set the fire.”
“Hold on a moment.” Kindler held up a hand. “You’re telling me Nadia confused her best friend, a woman, with a teenage boy?”
I shrugged. “Why wouldn’t she? It was dark, she was upset, and she didn’t see the person clearly. Her brain wouldn’t let her make the leap to a dead woman being responsible, so when she saw a person with long red hair through the window, she assumed it was little Ollie whose hair is the same shade and about the same length as his mother’s.”
Arnie sighed. “And that’s when you knew.”
I nodded. “That’s what was nagging me since I spoke to Gwen and Oliver the other day, it finally clicked. The first time I met Veronica; I commented on her perfume. I said it was lovely and she told me it was a present from her daughter. I smelled that perfume, Radiant Ronnie, for the third time in Gwen’s bedroom, but the second time was when I was standing over Tad Breyfogle’s body in the study.”
I shook my head. “A scent has the power to bring forth memories, fill you with joy, warn you of danger, and transport you in time to a better place. I asked what that smell was but then just dismissed it as nothing, but Gwen, the wonderful little weirdo, was right. When I thought of a person with long red hair standing over the body, I remembered what happened when I stood over the body. I remembered that scent...and it all clicked. In the end, it all came down to a secret daughter, an uncomfortable dress, and a bottle of perfume.”
“That’s...that is...” Kindler couldn’t seem to find the right word to berate me with. I braced myself for the onslaught. “That is...quite impressive, Miss Moon.”
I blinked at her. “Say what?” Even Arnie was goggling at her.
She smiled. “That is some fine detective work. You have a gift, whether that’s due to some psychic ability or just being one smart cookie, I don’t know, but you figured this whole thing out and most likely saved Tatiana Prokop from a prison cell. You should join the force. We could use a mind like yours on the team, but
”—her smile suddenly melted away to be replaced by the scowl I knew so well— “until then you need to keep your scrawny hide out of police business! What kind of fool runs off with no cell phone to find a deranged killer in an empty house with no one else around! You’re lucky your sister has more sense than you and called the police!”
“That’s enough, Kindler,” Arnie said firmly. “It’s been a long night.”
She harrumphed. “Next time, I’ll arrest you for obstruction.” She picked herself up off the ambulance fender and stomped off.
Arnie scrubbed his worn face. “I’m sorry about her.”
I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. All the praise was actually freaking me out, to be honest.”
He chuckled, but quickly grew serious. “She was right though. What were you thinking coming out here alone?”
I lowered my head. “I wasn’t really. Thinking that is.”
“It’s just like last time.” I stiffened at his words. “Kayla’s killer—”
“It’s not like last time,” I said firmly.
“Really? Because you went off half-cocked and chased down a murderer—”
“Stop it!”
He raised his voice, plowing on. “—and almost got yourself killed then too!” he shouted. Anger and sadness were rolling off him in waves. “All those years ago, you didn’t care in the slightest what could happen to you or that it would kill me if you got hurt! And then tonight—” He cursed and turned away, trying to get himself under control. “When I ran into that building to get you, I saw...Mari, it looked like you had just given up. You were just lying there with a building burning down all around you. What was that?”
He turned back, and I could see his eyes were glassy. It was like a fist closed around my heart and squeezed. “Oh, Arnie...”
“Do you want to...to die?” he asked softly.
“What?” I leaped to my feet. “Arnie, no! Of course not. It wasn’t me, it was—” I cut myself off. How could I explain I was affected by Veronica’s despair and it made me want to give up on life?
“It was what?” he probed.
I didn’t answer.
“Amari, I need you to explain this to me.” He grabbed my shoulders and pulled me close. “Mari, please...just be honest with me.”
“I...Arnie, I...” My tongue tied. I couldn’t seem to get anything out.
THE PARAMEDICS RELEASED me with instructions to go home and get some rest. I climbed into my car with every intention of doing so, but when I got on the road instead of taking my exit I drove on. Instead of returning to my apartment to reassure my worried sister, I pulled up in front of the hotel. Instead of listening to the voice that said this wasn’t the right time to do this, I got out of the car, walked through the lobby of The Grand Hotel and up to room 823.
It was after midnight. I was late, hours late. I knocked.
“Paxon?” I called. “Are you there?”
No answer. I knocked again, louder. “Paxon?”
I was poised to knock once more when the door flew open. A bare-chested, half-asleep, and angrier-than-I-had-ever-felt Paxon stood before me.
“Um...hi.”
Paxon was not impressed. “Um hi...that’s all you have to say?” He frowned, sniffing the air. “What’s that smell? Is that you? Why are you all cut up?”
I half shrugged. “A crazy not-quite-dead woman doused me in gasoline, tried to light me on fire, and I had to jump out a window to save myself,” I said, going for total honesty. “It’s why I was late...can I come in?”
His jaw was working, flitting between anger and worry, he had no idea what to say to me. In the end, he just stepped aside and let me walk in.
“Thanks,” I said softly.
“No problem,” he grumbled. He walked around me and went straight into the bathroom. I heard the shower turn on. “You must be uncomfortable,” he said when he stepped back out. “Take a shower and get out of those clothes. There’s a robe in the bathroom.”
“Okay,” I said simply.
I didn’t rush. I took my time and scrubbed every inch of my hair and body three times. When I climbed out, I felt human again.
Paxon was sitting up in bed reading a book; he put it down as soon as I re-emerged. We just stared at each other for a long time.
I guess I had to go first. “Paxon, you said you wanted to talk.” I sat down on the edge of the bed. “Well, I’m ready to do that.”
He scooted down to join me. “I think you should tell me about your night first, don’t you think?”
I chuckled wryly. “Fair enough.” I launched into the whole tale. The mayor, Veronica Breyfogle, and Daisy.
“I’m sorry, Mari,” he said when I was finished. “About your friend.”
I nodded sadly. “Me too.” I looked up to him. “Your turn.”
He sighed. “My turn, huh?” Abruptly, he stood up and walked away from me.
“Paxon?”
He went over to the nightstand and opened the drawer. His back was turned to me, but I could see he had taken something out. “I don’t have anything more to say, Mari,” he began. “Nothing that you don’t already know.”
He turned around and I gasped, clapping my hands over my mouth. In his hands was a small, velvet box.
“I love you,” he said. He knelt down in front of me. “I’ve loved you since I was sixteen years old. Will you marry me?”
He lifted the lid.
“Paxon, it’s...” It was hard to speak around the lump in my throat. “It’s beautiful.” The ring was simple but elegant. It sparkled in the light.
I chuckled, tears streaming down my face. “I can’t believe you’re proposing to me, on the same night I got attacked by a crazed housewife.”
He smiled, taking my hand. “You’re always pissing off murderers and getting yourself into trouble. It’s no good trying to wait for the right time with you. I mean, if you had come on time tonight, you would have had a four-course meal, candlelight, rose petals, and soft music. I’ve learned to just roll with it.”
“I’m sorry I missed that,” I said with a wobbly smile.
“I’m not,” he said gently, “as long as you say yes.”
“Paxon...” I hesitated, for only a moment, but that was all it took.
He released my hand, looking stricken. “You’re saying no.”
I shook my head roughly. “No! No, I’m not.”
The box fell from his stiff fingers. “I can’t believe this.”
“Paxon, just listen!” I cried, bending down to grab the box. “I’m not saying no.”
He stood up, quickly backing away from me. Paxon laughed harshly. “You came over here, in the middle of the night, to do this. You couldn’t have waited until morning to rip my heart into confetti.”
“Paxon!” I cried. “Please listen to me.” I walked toward him, but he kept backing up. He didn’t want me to feel what he was feeling right now. He backed all the way until he was backed up against the door. He scrambled for the doorknob.
“Go.” His voice was thick. He threw open the door. “Please, just go.”
My jaw dropped. “You’re kicking me out in the middle of the night while I’m wearing only a robe!”
His glassy eyes looked me up and down, slowly registering what I was saying. “I’ll give you some clothes—”
“You’re not giving me clothes!” I snapped. “I’m not going anywhere. Now close the damn door and let me explain.”
Slowly, painstakingly, he closed the door. I took a deep breath. “Thank you.” I stepped toward him, but he put up a hand and I stopped. “I’m not saying no, Paxon. Truly.”
“So, what are you saying?” he asked softly.
“I’m saying...give me time.”
He balled his fists. “Time? How much more time, Amari? Another five years! Another ten! Why is this so hard for you? Why won’t you just let yourself love me? Why won’t you just say how you feel?!”
“Say how I feel?” I repeated incredulously. “What
does it look like I’m doing right now? I tell you how I feel all the time, Paxon, you just don’t want to hear it!” I shouted. I threw up my hands. “Ugh!”
This was not how I wanted tonight to go.
“Oh please!” He scoffed right back. “How long you been in love with me, Moon? Huh? But how many times have you said it? To me? To yourself even? You want to tell me how you feel then tell me you love me! Because that’s what I’ve been waiting to hear!”
“You’re such a jerk!”
“You’re such a liar!” he shouted right back. “How about a little honesty for once, Moon! I dare you!”
It was the only thing in my hand, so I lobbed it at his head. The ring box went flying and Paxon ducked it with a shout. “You want honesty, Knight! Well, here it is! I love you! Okay! You happy now? I love you!”
I was boiling mad. I looked around for something else to throw.
“Yes.” That word made me turn back to him. He was beaming. “Yes, I am happy.” He took a step, then another, then he rushed me. I cried out when he lifted me up and spun me around. “I’m so happy.” He put me back on my feet and enveloped me in his arms. “Finally. I love you too.”
Just like that, my anger disappeared, like it was never there in the first place. I sighed. “You love me? Still? Even though, not seconds after you proposed, we got into another screaming match?” His grip on me just got tighter. “You’re an insufferable jerk.”
“Oi!” he cried.
I laughed. “And I’m a mood-swinging, hallucinating, bowl of irony who feels every emotion, but expresses none of them well. Do you really want to do this every day for the rest of your life?”
“Yes,” he said immediately, no hesitation. “But only if I’m incredibly lucky.”
I smiled into his chest.
“Although.” I lifted my head to look at him. “I could do without you throwing things at me.”
That startled a laugh out of me. “No promises,” I teased.
He smiled back. “Mari, if you feel the way I know you do, then...what’s the problem?”