by E B Corbin
Henry threw her a disgusted look over his shoulder. “Will you just hear me out?”
Sam knew Henry’s handicap was driving him crazy and, if truth be told, she felt better having him around, even if he was not 100 percent. “Fine. After we leave the gun what’s the rest of your plan? How do we get out of the building without them seeing us?”
“You’re not going in with me. You stay with White Cloud.” Henry addressed the taxi driver. “Is there a Starbucks near the apartment?”
“There are Starbucks everywhere,” the taxi driver said.
“Find one that’s close, but not too close, and I’ll meet you there.”
“You shouldn’t be walking around on your leg.” Sam felt cruel pointing out Henry’s limitations, but she didn’t want him taking unnecessary chances. “Besides, it would take you forever to limp there, even if it was a few blocks away. And it’s pretty hard for you to blend in with that boot on your foot.”
“I realize that,” Henry told her, summoning all his patience to avoid snapping at his boss. “I’ll slip out the back door and grab a cab from the side street.”
“We will text you the address when we stop at the coffee shop,” White Cloud said.
“I guess I could use a coffee,” Sam muttered as she slumped against the back of the seat.
✽✽✽
The plan worked without a hitch. An hour later, the taxi turned onto Helen’s street with no sign that they had been followed. Good news and bad news as far as Sam was concerned. She missed her .44.
Henry held up his hand. “Hold it! Pull over.”
White Cloud braked and steered the taxi to the curb immediately.
“What is it? Sam grabbed the back of the front seat and pulled herself up in order to get a better look out the windshield. She spotted Nora, the nurse, leaving Helen’s house. “What do you think she’s doing there?”
“Don’t know, but I think it’s a good idea to wait and see.” Henry spit the words out as he tried to function normally despite the buzzing, which had grown since they reached their destination. Something bad was going on here. He was glad he had come along.
Sam watched Nora slide into the driver’s seat of an old silver Taurus. The car pulled out and continued down the street. White Cloud waited until it was out of sight before he eased the taxi to a spot in front of Helen’s house.
Helen lived only three blocks from her friends but it might as well have been on another planet. All the homes were smaller and closer together than those near Betty Maguire and the Bledsoes. The single-story yellow brick structure sat a few feet from the curb. Plain but neat and well kept. Like all the surrounding homes, Helen’s house looked as if she took pride in her residence.
Even though they were modest, Sam figured they would fetch close to a million dollars, given Portland’s real estate market. No wonder the occupants took care of their property. Helen must have purchased the place before the prices went crazy. How else would a receptionist be able to afford it?
The house had no porch or steps leading to the front door, only a short slate path ending in a 4x4 slab of the dark stone at the doorway. Henry had no trouble keeping up with Sam for the short distance. As she neared the door, Henry grabbed her arm and nodded toward where the door stood slightly ajar. His buzz rose to a shriek. He reached for his Beretta, wishing he had full mobility.
Sam went for her .44 and touched the empty holster before she realized her mistake. She didn’t have time to pull the back-up .38 from her ankle holster before Henry pushed the door open with his shoulder. A squeak from the hinges gave away their approach.
“Nora? That was quick.” A female voice called from the kitchen. It didn’t sound like Helen.
Sam and Henry exchanged a glance. “It’s Sam Turner. I came to talk to Helen. Is she around?”
After a brief hesitation, the voice said, “Sure. In the kitchen. Come on back.”
When Sam passed through the doorway from the hall to the kitchen, she stopped dead at the sight of Stacy Bledsoe pointing a 9 mm at her chest. “Stacy! What are you doing?”
“Just having a little chat with Helen,” Stacy said.
Helen sat in a wooden kitchen chair, her hands tied behind her back, her feet tied to the chair legs and a piece of duct tape across her mouth. Helen’s eyes were two large marbles, rolling around in her head as she tried to mumble something through the gag.
“Come in, come in. Henry, you too. You might as well all join the party.” Stacy’s voice no longer sounded timid or meek. Her eyes glinted with either evil or insanity. It was hard to tell which.
Sam stepped into the room but remained at the side of the entrance to allow space for Henry to enter. She needed to appear agreeable, not wanting to push Stacy in her current state of mind.
Henry stopped in the doorway and lowered his Beretta. He took in the whole room with a glance, showing no surprise. “Stacy, this isn’t like you. Why don’t you put the gun down?”
“Why don’t you toss your gun over here instead.” Stacy indicated an area on the floor in front of the sink. She scowled at him.
“Let’s talk about this,” Henry said. “I thought we were friends.”
Stacy snorted. “Friends! Are you kidding? A guy like you would hardly have a reason to look at someone like me. I know what you’re trying to do. You and your pretty little girlfriend probably had a good laugh about how you charmed me yesterday.”
“That’s not . . .” Sam started.
“You! Shut up! I don’t need to listen to any more of your lies.” The barrel of Stacy’s weapon moved to take in Sam. “We’ll wait for Nora, then figure out what to do with you two.”
“Did Nora kill your mother?” Henry ignored the incessant buzzing in his head. He needed to keep her talking.
“Nora? Are you kidding? Nora’s smart. She came up with the idea, but she didn’t have the guts to carry it out. No, I killed my mother. It was a relief to get rid of her after watching my father cater to her every need all my life.” Stacy’s eyes turned to slits. “That’s enough questions. Toss your guns over here. Now!”
Henry saw her release the safety and her finger tighten on the trigger. With the buzzing so loud he thought his head would explode, he didn’t dare take any chances. Even if he shot her right between the eyes, she might get off a reflexive shot that would hit Sam or Helen. He tossed his gun across the room.
Stacy never moved her head, but reached out with her foot to kick the gun further away. It thudded against the cabinet under the sink. She wiggled the weapon at Sam. “You too.”
“I don’t have a gun,” Sam said.
“Sure you do. I’m not gonna fall for that.” Stacy’s sneer was enough to turn Henry’s blood to ice although it appeared to have no effect on Sam.
“Honest.” Sam pulled open her jacket to show the empty holster. “I didn’t bring it with me.”
Sam knew she couldn’t get to the .38 strapped at her ankle before Stacy blew one of them away. She’d wait for the right opportunity since Norman’s daughter seemed to know how to handle a gun despite her earlier claim to be afraid of them. Her hand remained steady and the heavy 9 mm never wobbled. Sam lifted her shoulders with her hands out in front of her. “Didn’t think I would need it to talk to Helen.”
Stacy stared at her for a second before she relaxed her stance. “You’d better be telling the truth, otherwise poor Helen will die sooner than necessary. You too.”
Helen squeezed her eyes closed and shirked away from the gun pointed at her head. Tears leaked from her eyelids and Sam noticed the older woman’s chest fluttering as she took in short breaths through her nose.
Ignoring the pain shooting up his leg, Henry took a step closer.
Stacy swung the barrel back in his direction and fired a shot. Even as the bullet lodged in the doorframe next to Henry’s head, he never flinched. “Stay where you are! I have eight bullets left and I’m not afraid to use them. I only need one to put in Helen’s head.”
“Why
are you doing this?” Henry kept his voice calm, not wishing to aggravate the woman.
“Why? Because I’ve lived all my life as an afterthought to my parents. Oh, they loved each other so. Never paid much attention to their ugly duckling daughter. I begged them for an operation on my nose, but did they listen? Noooo. First they claimed I was too young, then Daddy lost all his money. Then Mom got sick and every extra cent went to helping her. I was tossed aside, again and again.”
“Your father loves you very much. He told me he’s willing to go to jail for the rest of his life and give up the life insurance proceeds to you,” Sam said. “I’d be willing to give you the money I was going to return to your father too. I can transfer it today. You don’t have to wait until the insurance money comes through.”
Stacy scoffed. “Too little, too late. Where was he when I was teased incessantly in high school? Where was he when I couldn’t get a roommate when I went away to college? I knew Daddy and Mom were just happy to have me out of their hair.”
Sam was at a loss for how to respond. She had hoped that offering Stacy immediate access to a lot of cash would tempt the woman. She thought Stacy might have imagined her parents’ slights, but pointing it out now would serve no purpose. Stacy’s eyes revealed the depth of her feelings. Anger radiated like a laser.
Henry took another step forward. “Do you mind if I sit down? My ankle’s throbbing.”
“Sure.” Stacy spat the word. “Make yourself comfortable . . . until Nora returns.”
Henry picked a chair as far away from Sam as possible so that Stacy would have a hard time keeping her weapon trained on both of them. He stumbled into the table and knocked a chair over in a crude attempt to create a distraction. If he could give Sam enough time to reach her backup .38, they might stand a chance. A good plan, but it didn’t distract the woman holding the gun on them.
Sam’s eyes flicked from Stacy to Helen, but Stacy kept her gaze and her gun pointed at Henry. Helen seemed to have given up any attempt to communicate. She slumped in the chair, her eyes closed, her head lolling to the side. No way could she count on any help from the older woman. She hoped Henry could come up with another diversion, one that would give her a better opportunity to reach her ankle holster. In the meantime, she’d try to rattle the woman. “May I sit too?”
“Why not? You might as well all be in one place.” Stacy took a step back to better cover the three of them.
Sam chose the seat directly opposite Stacy’s position and rested her left ankle on her knee. She hoped to use the table to hide her movement when she reached for her gun.
Stacy thwarted that plan. “Hands on the table. All of you!”
They heard the front door open and Nora stepped into the kitchen. She took in the three people seated around the table before she turned to Stacy. “What?”
“Just a few unexpected visitors.” Stacy kept her gaze on Sam and Henry as she answered the nurse. “Nothing to worry about. I figure I’ll shoot them with the same gun Helen will use to commit suicide and make it look as if Helen shot them before she killed herself.”
Nora nodded. “Good plan, but we need to keep Helen alive a bit longer. The note wasn’t in the office.”
“Dammit!” Stacy whacked Helen on the side of the head. “You lied to us!”
Helen whimpered as blood dripped down the side of her head. She tried to mumble through the duct tape and wiggled in her chair. When Stacy ripped the tape from her mouth, Helen cried out in pain, then sobbed. “I left it there. I swear!”
“Well, it’s not there now.”
“Maybe . . . maybe . . .” Helen swallowed and hesitated before she continued. “Maybe Norman took it with him.”
“You showed it to Daddy?” Stacy roared.
Helen cringed, attempting to shrink in the chair. “I . . . I . . . I just did what Betty asked me to do. I didn’t know . . .”
“Quiet!” Nora said. She rubbed her forehead while she paced. Her gaze darted from the table to Stacy. “Okay, okay. We can still make this work. Call your father and get him to come over here.”
“Then what?” Stacy spoke to Nora, but kept a close watch over Sam and Henry.
“Then we’ll go with your original plan, but instead of Helen shooting two people, she’ll shoot three.”
Stacy thought it over. “That’ll work.”
“Of course it will work! We just have to get our story straight before the cops get here.” Nora paced as she spoke. “We went to church together this morning and were concerned about how Helen was taking the news about Betty. After brunch at my place, we decided to check on Helen. We found the bodies and called the police. We’ll work out the timeline before the cops get here. They’ll see how upset we are. I know you can do distraught because you pulled it off perfectly when your mother died.”
Stacy nodded, a small smile on her lips.
“Okay, then. Where’s your phone?” Nora glanced around the room.
“In my purse on the table in the hall.”
While Nora went to fetch Stacy’s phone, Henry cleared his throat. “You’re going to kill your father too?”
“Why not? He was going to be a problem anyway.”
Nora handed Stacy the phone and Stacy transferred the gun to Nora.
Sam had hoped the phone call might be enough of a distraction for her to reach her .38, but Nora was as vigilant as Stacy. In fact, she seemed even more inclined to shoot first and worry about it later.
Stacy turned her back as she tapped a number. Her voice came out shaky and scared. A perfect impersonation of a frightened daughter. “Daddy? It’s Stacy. I need your help. I’m at Helen’s and I can’t seem to wake her up. Something’s wrong with her.”
With the duct tape still dangling from her chin, Sam thought it was the perfect opportunity for Helen to scream. But the older woman sat hunched in the chair, defeated. Sam ran over options in her mind. She knew Henry was doing the same thing, but he was hindered by his ankle.
After a few seconds, Stacy continued in a pleading tone. “I already called them, but please, I need you here with me.”
She nodded to herself and laid her phone on the counter as she clicked off. “He’ll be right over,” she told Nora with a grin.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
While they awaited Norman’s arrival, Nora examined the area and spotted Henry’s gun lying on the floor under the sink. She pointed to it. “Whose gun?”
“His.” Stacy dipped her head at Henry. “I disarmed them as soon as they arrived.”
“Hmmm.” Nora stared at the weapon as she continued pacing. “Do you have another pair of gloves?” She indicated the blue latex covering Stacy’s hands.
“There’s a whole bag of them in my purse.”
Nora retrieved a pair and slipped them on before she picked up the Beretta. “Change of plan. I’ll pop your father with this gun as soon as he walks in, then you take care of those two. It will look like they shot Norman and Helen shot them in retaliation. We’ll leave her alive until we find whatever it is that Betty gave her. That way, if she’s not telling us the whole truth, she’ll have time to think it over before she lies to us again. We can’t have incriminating evidence lying around where someone might find it.”
“I don’t know what your father did with the note after I gave it to him.” Helen whimpered and sniveled in her chair. “It could be anywhere.”
A shadow of doubt crossed Stacy’s face as she leaned against the counter. “You’d better think real hard about where it could be.”
“Why should I tell you, even if I knew? You’re going to kill me anyway.” Helen slumped in the chair, her gaze on the floor.
“I’m a nurse,” Nora said. “I know a hundred ways to inflict pain. You can die the easy way or the hard way.”
Helen whimpered and fell silent.
Sam noticed a glint of pleasure in Nora’s eye as the nurse spoke to Helen. She longed for a chance to wipe the satisfaction from the nurse’s face. The weapon in her ankle holster
was so near yet so far.
She had hoped Norman took his time to come to his daughter’s aid because she had her doubts about how long Stacy could keep the heavy weapon steady and pointed at them. Sooner or later, her arm had to grow tired. But with both Nora and Stacy now armed, it became that much harder to overcome them. She sighed and glanced at Henry.
He twisted his mouth into a grimace but showed no other signs of capitulation. He noticed Sam’s hand edging closer to her raised leg. He held out three fingers on the table, then slowly tapped one, two, three. At three he upended the table as he pulled Helen behind it. Sam released her .38 from her ankle holster in one quick motion and slipped to the floor. She pulled the trigger twice in rapid succession.
Stacy dropped the .9 mm and clutched her right shoulder. Nora’s leg gave out as blood began to seep through her pants leg, but she managed to fire a round into the table before she collapsed. Sam took careful aim and pulled the trigger one more time. She knew it was a long shot, but she smiled when Henry’s Beretta fell from Nora’s bloody hand to the floor. It was probably sheer luck the bullet hit where it did. Sam would take it.
Sam jumped up, grabbed Stacy’s gun, and tucked it into her empty holster. She kicked Henry’s Beretta out of reach as Nora stretched her left arm for it. Henry was already dialing 911.
Nora used her good leg to scoot backward until she was close to Stacy. “Help me up.”
Stacy gave her friend a look that could freeze molten lava. Red stained the blue glove covering her hand as she clasped her shoulder. She turned and started for the back door. Henry stuck the cane in front of her and she tumbled to the ground, groaning in agony as her shoulder hit the edge of the counter.
At that point, Norman Bledsoe ran into the kitchen. He took in the .38 in Sam’s hand along with his daughter and Nora bleeding on the floor. “What have you done?”
“Thank God you came. She tried to kill us, Daddy!” Crocodile tears ran down Stacy’s face as she slumped against the counter next to the stove.
Nora nodded in agreement while clutching her injured hand to her chest. The look of innocence on her face was worthy of an Academy Award.