by Kristi Rose
When it came to self-defense, clearly my system short-circuited because this image made zero sense and would probably get me killed. But then the image played out, and inspiration struck. I pulled a running quarterback move. I rushed to June, got within swinging distance of the statue, and dropped into my version of a baseball slide that football players use.
I slid right into June’s legs, her voluminous skirt covering my middle body, and knocked her down.
Right onto me.
The statue bounced across the floor. The angel’s head popped off, my stun gun sliding behind it. Out of reach from both of us.
“You’ve ruined everything,” June yelled in my face, then went for my eyes with her fingers.
Her veil was draped over one shoulder, and I used it like a rope to bring it across her face and neck, tugging it tight. Her head turned to the side as the massive amounts of clips and pins she’d used to secure the veil tugged at her scalp.
She clawed at the veil. I held it tight with one hand while searching the floor for my stun gun with the other.
“This veil looks stupid on you,” I said and gave a tug. Some pins gave, and the headdress slid to the side and forward. One more tug, and the entire thing would come off. Time for a new plan.
I was trapped under her weight and the excessive fabric of her tacky-ass dress.
She grabbed at her veil’s headdress and ripped it off, then flung it to the side, the netting raking across my face.
“You’ve ruined everything,” she repeated.
Maybe she was stuck in a goofy loop? Goofy loop was no joke and no fun. It was when the brain got stuck on one thing and couldn’t break out of the cycle to see a way out. Only this time, her goofy loop was telling her to hurt me. And she was stuck with her intention to do just that.
She clocked me on the side of the head with a resounding slap.
I returned the favor but used a closed fist and aimed for her face, hitting her square on the nose.
She reared back, sat upright, blood spurting everywhere.
June’s face contorted in fury as she stared at the blood spattered on her white gown. “Look what you did. You ruined my dress! You’ve ruined everything!”
“That dress made you look fat, anyway.” Whatever it took to knock sense into her was the plan. And to keep her attention on me and not what I was trying to do. Though, this could easily work against me.
June’s eyes went wide. “You’re a hateful, bitch, Samantha,” she spat.
I stretched my arm out as far as I could, patting my fingers across the floor hoping to connect with my stun gun. “Says the woman who killed her lover.”
She lunged at me, dropping her entire body weight on my chest as she cupped her hands around my neck and squeezed.
37
Wednesday
With one hand searching, I wasn’t able to effectively block her and was left to use my fist to pound at whatever part of her I could reach.
Stars burst before my eyes, my body was desperate for oxygen. Though, I didn’t need any stars to tell me that. The burning in my lungs had been the first tip-off.
I bucked and fought, but each exertion of energy cost me precious oxygen.
“You ruined everything,” she screamed in my face, spittle dropping onto me.
I suspected at any minute now I’d pee my pants. Fear was creeping in fast, increasing my panic.
Ugh, how awful would it be for Leo or DB to find my body with my purple face and urine-soaked pants?
I didn’t want to go out that way.
With what was probably my last stretch—darkness was cloaking my vision and blinking wasn’t holding it back—I patted the floor to my side, slightly above my shoulder line.
My middle finger brushed against the rough edge of something fabric. I prayed it was my stun gun which was encased in a thick, protective case. Though one I could zap through.
I strained toward the object, while choking and gurgling, desperate for air, and pulled the petite weapon what had to be millimeters toward me.
June let go of my neck and grabbed both sides of my head, grasping my hair.
I gasped, taking in only small bits of air as my throat worked to acclimate to the sudden loss of pressure and increase in air.
“You ruined everything,” she repeated. June was definitely stuck in the goofy loop.
Scary for me, because the goofy loop was fueled by primitive actions. There would be no reasoning with June.
She whipped my head up then banged it once against the floor.
A burst of pain erupted through my skull. But the little oxygen I was gifted was enough to give me the strength to stretch just a tad further. I cupped the stun gun in my palm, fumbling for the trigger button.
June slapped me again, and the stun gun slipped from my hand as zingers of pain shot through my arms and neck.
I coughed and wheezed as I gasped for air and struggled to process the pain.
June’s hands returned to my neck and commenced their squeezing.
My bladder hinted that I could only take one more big hit, and it would let everything go.
Anger surged through me. I was not going to die. I was not going to let Precious die. And I certainly wasn’t going to wet my pants.
Patting the floor again, I found the stun gun easily, this time the trigger button was aligned with my thumb, and I flipped it to turn the stun gun on.
I swung my arm, and the little power pack of lightning volts arced toward June, catching her right under her left armpit. I pressed and held the trigger down.
Electric currents shot through her. She arced upward while her body was wracked in small repeated convulsions. Instantly, her hands tightened then loosened as she convulsed then fell on top of me, unconscious, her head resting on my shoulder.
I pulled back, but for good measure, or maybe out of anger and fear, I went at her one more time, sending another nine million volts through her.
I wasn’t proud of the moment, though I wouldn’t apologize. Call it a goofy loop if you wanted. All I could think of was making her stop, making the pain go away, and not dying.
Not dying was important to me.
I considered shocking her one more time. Instead, I attempted to roll to the side, but the recent lack of oxygen left me weak. Sleep called to me. But fear told me to stay awake, that I needed to run. Unfortunately, what my brain said to do and what my body could do didn’t align.
A loud bang came from down the stairs, and in the distance, someone called my name.
When I tried to call out, nothing but garbled junky sounds came from me.
June twitched, and I turned my head toward hers. Her eyes were open and her mouth was working as if she were trying to say something.
I gave her another short zap.
Footsteps thundered up the stairs. “Samantha?”
Leo rushed to my side and took the stun gun from me. I clawed to get it back.
“I’m here. I’ve got you covered. You’re okay,” he murmured.
DB appeared over his shoulder. “Jeez. I said go talk to her, not get into a fight with her.” He pointed to June. “Told you she was man-trap crazy.”
I shot him the bird.
Leo lifted June off me and rolled her onto her back.
DB bent down and gently sat me up. “Can you stand?”
I shrugged. “Presh,” I whispered, my throat burned as I tried to make sound.
DB gestured down the stairs. “EMTs are with her now. Probably has a bad concussion, but she’s okay.”
He helped me to rest sitting against the wall then moved away to June.
Leo came over and inspected my neck and head. “We need a medic up here.”
When his thumbs gently probed the bruises around my neck, I winced.
“You’re gonna have a hard time talking for a while and a fair amount of pain. But you’re alive.”
Little bit. I held up my thumb and forefinger with only a sliver a light shining between them. I smiled.
<
br /> “It’s not a joke, Samantha. You’re lucky.” He searched my face, fear written across his own.
I smoothed the crease over his brow. “Sorry,” I mouthed.
He nodded, then lowered his forehead to mine and sighed deeply. I held onto his shoulders, finding strength through him.
DB cleared his throat. Leo pulled away.
Db said, “This is beautiful and all, but I’m gonna need some insight as to what happened here. You think you can write it all out?” As he said the last part, he rolled his eyes. “Who am I kidding? You write in abbreviations and symbols.”
I shot him another bird. Then I gestured for Leo to help me up.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, you likely have a head injury,” Leo said.
I gestured for DB to help me up. When he did, I indicated he and Leo should follow me. DB had handcuffed June, who was also propped up against the wall. Her lips were clamped tight and she glared hard at me as I walked by.
Sergeant Hinkle was assigned to watch June as I led DB and Leo into her room.
Tapping into my bad-ass gesturing skills, I told the story of June and her obsession with Josh. Of course, the pictures on the wall told a lot, too. Leo filled in a lot of gaps, as well.
I showed them the salve, the nicotiana plant, and mimed how she applied it to his rashes. Adding more nicotine to his system.
After walking them through that, Leo called my dad and told him what happened, then he escorted me to the ambulance outside. But not before I collected Lady M from the fake hydrangeas. Her banana pocket was covered with June’s blood so the paramedic made me a temporary carrying case from a sling and ace wrap.
Precious and I rode to the hospital together.
“We did it,” she said as she held an ice pack to side of her head. “By the hair on our chinny-chin-chin.”
I nodded in agreement. Then we fist bumped.
Glad to be alive.
38
Friday
Another beautiful day where the sun was highlighting the blue sky. I was going to enjoy every day like this before the winter rains started, no matter what condition I was in. The slight chill in the air was refreshing as the bandages around my neck were hot and stifling. But the doctor insisted, saying they worked to remind me to tread slowly with food. As if the shooting pain I was awarded with each swallow wasn’t reminder enough.
Leo and I sat on my balcony, our feet on the railing, a cooler of hard cider between us. I was on a soft food and liquid diet until my throat healed. We were both dressed in jeans, me in my favorite Seahawks sweatshirt. Sadly, I noticed a tiny hole at the cuff. I would wear this thing until it was threadbare.
Leo had worked until the next day processing the scene. He was enjoying a rare day off with me. I suspected he was hovering to make sure I was okay and not moments from going into delayed shock.
I was grateful to be alive and didn’t have time for shock.
Precious had stayed a night in the hospital because of her concussion and was recuperating at her parents.
My parents and I were trying to keep what we could from Rachel. Dad, torn between being a newsman and a father, had written his article with a keen eye on limiting my role. This made the police happy as well.
Leo flipped through a packet of papers then handed them to me.
He said, “Based on the latest toxicology report, no ricin was found in Josh’s system. The official ruling in Josh’s death is homicide was the manner of death and cause of death was nicotine poisoning.”
I wrote Boomer’s name and a question mark on a piece of paper.
“He’s been charged with attempted murder. He’s out on bail and will probably lose his medical license.” Leo held up one finger. “But not his wife. She’s sticking by his side. I suppose she finds the fact that his jealousy made him try to kill someone attractive.”
I grimaced.
“According to the rumor mill, their house is going up for sale.” He reached into the cooler and took out a second beer, putting his empty bottle in the recycling container I’d dragged out. “You know about Danika, right?”
I nodded. My mom had told me the school board promoted Danika to assistant principal, and she was to take part in the hiring of the new principal.
From his pocket, Leo withdrew a folded piece of paper and handed it to me. It was a check for my services drawn off his account.
“I don’t know your going rate. If this isn’t enough, let me know and I’ll write a second check.”
I stared at the check in longing. I liked money, paying my bills on time, and little extra luxuries like coffee and ice cream and a new shirt or something. Any extra coming into my account was a good thing.
I ripped up his check and dumped the little pieces into the recycling bin.
Leo set down his beer and stared into the bin. “What did you do that for?” He looked between me and the bin, shocked.
From my back pocket, I took out an envelope and showed him the small bundle of hundreds. “Laura,” I mouthed and tapped the envelope. After I’d been released from the hospital last night, Laura had been at my apartment when I got home, this envelope in her hand. Leo had given her the heads-up about June.
She’d caught me tired and unable to argue, pressing the envelope into my hand and thanking me profusely. I couldn’t take her money and Leo’s.
I scratched out the gist of this info on my notepad.
Leo nodded in understanding. “The vial Levi added the nicotine pesticide to was the one under his dresser in the shoe. He’s not off scot-free, though. The DA is looking at whether they should charge him for attempted murder. Lockett pointed out that doing so would give any defense lawyer June hired ammunition should they go to trial. Having another person, Boomer, charged with attempted murder was bad enough. Adding two would help her. But Lockett’s confident that Levi will get more community service time, and that’s it. He’ll be spending more time with me working at the food bank, on the reservation, and at a soup kitchen every week.”
“Ooh,” I whispered and pulled out my phone. I tapped the screen to show I wanted him to look.
The email was from AJ. In it, he told me the Recode and Reshape Program was canceled, and families were in limbo while they waited for the courts to determine what would be an appropriate way for the kids to serve out their sentence. I gestured that Leo should merge his program with this one.
He shook his head. “I’m spread too thin as it is. With the department being limited in staff and helping out with the tribal council and reservation…” He rubbed a hand down his face ending with a scratch to his chin. “Actually, you might be on to something. Text me the contact information.”
I smiled and elbowed him.
“I didn’t know you knew AJ Gunn. I bet you like that, football fan that you are.” He cut his eyes to me.
I rolled mine. Then rubbed my fingers together in the money sign.
Leo’s brows arched. “He was a client?”
I nodded. Nondisclosure contracts prevented me from telling him AJ was a client of Precious’s first.
Leo said, “June’s singing like a canary. Telling anyone who’ll listen that she’d been slowly poisoning Josh over the long term. Confirmed what you said about how Levi had left some vials behind and she’d put them in the lost and found, but he never came back for them. She said that Tuesday you all were at the coffee shop was when she put it in his drink?”
I gestured like I was taking pictures.
He nodded. “Yeah, she said that, too. Said Josh had stayed the night with her. Praised her for being so good to him. Told her she’d be the perfect wife as she was tending to his rashes with her homemade salve.”
I shook my head in disgust at both of them, June and Josh. Him telling her what she wanted to hear the most, all the while she was poisoning him. And all this happening in the same house with Mrs. Rivers. Who, according to June, liked to take a nightly Ambien and shut out the world.
Leo agreed. “June said Jos
h loved Unicorn Brew. It was his favorite drink. Apparently, she held it over him. She would only make it on the days after they hooked up. Which is why she sporadically served it.”
Yep, that’s what the calendar showed.
Josh had to know June was crazy. I guessed that was why his visits were not as consistent, but his compulsive nature and narcissism filled him with hubris, which ultimately led to his death.
I never want to blame any victim. Regardless of his skeeviness, Josh didn’t deserve to be murdered. Dirty rotten that he was. But I had trouble being remorseful for those who played with fire and got burned. Either way, the end of this case didn’t come with warm feelings of satisfaction. Instead, I was saddened by the behavior of adults. By people who should have known better, people in influential positions.
Leo sighed and tilted his chair back. “June said she was feeling guilty about the nicotine in the salve, but he didn’t seem to have any adverse signs of too much nicotine, so she let it go. But then he hit on you.”
I jerked upright, my beer sloshing from the bottle.
“What?” I whispered and forced as much indignation into that one word as my swollen vocal cords would allow.
“Yeah, apparently, she’d grown wise to his moves, and when she saw him do the heart thing,”—he tucked his beer between his legs and made a heart with his two hands and held them to my chest — “she knew you were next in line and was sick of sharing him. Sick of all his unkept promises. She said she just snapped. So she spiked his Unicorn Brew.”
I made like I was dry heaving. Then croaked, “I would never ever with him.” I went back to fake vomiting.
Leo laughed. “Yeah, well, June thought everyone wanted a piece of him and you were no different.”
I circled my finger near my temple to show I thought she was crazy.
Leo’s expression changed, saddened. “I think she probably has a mental illness. Or maybe I’m just saying that because I can’t wrap my mind around June being a killer.”