Scent to Her Grave

by India Ink

  Not sure whether I should be insulted, I folded my arms across my chest. “And what’s so funny about that? You haven’t give me reason to believe anything else.” Pausing, I shook my head. “All right, so if it’s not because of the Harvest Dance, then why? Why are you and Jared still on the outs? He won’t talk about it either and frankly, this feud’s pretty pathetic.”

  Kyle sucked in a deep breath and gazed into my eyes, his expression somber. “You really don’t know what happened, do you?”

  I frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “About six or seven years ago Jared got married.”

  “Married! Jared? He never told me he’d gotten married.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

  “Yeah, I guess he was trying to pass. He used the girl to hide behind because he knew his father was a bigot—Uncle Norris never has been too progressive. Anyway, Jared married a girl named Alexandria and then got caught sleeping around. With a guy. The girl was humiliated. It was bad any way you looked at it. For her, for Jared. I’m still pissed at him because he knew he was gay all along. You just don’t use people that way.”

  My jaw dropped. “Jared didn’t tell me any of this.”

  “Not a big surprise,” Kyle said, reading my mind, “Considering he adores you. Jared’s father won’t have anything to do with him, though his mother still talks to him. I’m ticked at him because I’ve seen him do this over and over again—he doesn’t think. He uses people and then when they get hurt, he’s all sorry and apologetic. It’s just not right.”

  I sighed. No, it wasn’t right. And I wasn’t sure what to think about the whole thing. “I’m sorry. I never knew any of this.”

  Kyle shrugged. “Yeah, well, now you do. So you’ll forgive me if I don’t spare any love for my cousin. Okay,” he shut the cabinet door. “I’m going over to the judge’s chambers to talk to him. You want to wait here?”

  Yeah, wait here for him to come back empty handed. “No, I guess I’ll go home.”

  He squinted, staring at me for a moment. “Persia, you know I can’t search an apartment without cause, and your word just isn’t enough to go on. Neither is your ability to remember scent. I’ll talk to the judge, but that’s all I can do.”

  “What you need is proof, right?”

  “Get that look off your face. Now promise me that you’ll go home like a good girl and I’ll call you when I’ve talked to Judge Lansburg.”

  “Whatever.” What we needed was to find Aphrodite’s Mirror. Find the mirror and we’d find the killer, and I was pretty sure I knew where it was. I slipped into my jacket and, with Kyle guiding me out the door, headed off to catch a killer.

  I could pull this off, I kept telling myself. I was skilled in self-defense . . . everything would be all right. All I needed to do was get a glimpse of the mirror and it would make things easier for Kyle to get his warrant. I didn’t know what Colleen’s car looked like, but I knew Debbie drove a little red Kia and it was in the parking lot.

  After all, if I didn’t break-and-enter, then I had every right to report whatever I saw to the police.

  The apartment complex looked as bleak as ever. I stared up at the building, thinking that so much had happened here behind these pasty walls. I checked on the mailboxes until I came to 307A, which had both Debbie and Colleen’s names taped on it. I took the stairs to the third floor and headed down the hall, feeling a nervous flutter in my stomach.

  I came to a stop in front of apartment 307A. This was it. No turning back. I summoned up my courage and pressed the doorbell. No answer, but I could hear a faint rustle inside that told me somebody was home. I rang the doorbell again. Finally, the door opened a crack and Debbie peeked out.

  Her expression shifted from bored to alarmed. “Persia! What are you doing here?”

  Bingo, I thought. She was afraid. “I thought I’d drop in while I was in the building. Is Colleen home?”

  Debbie shook her head and whispered, “She’s out right now. You’ll have to come back later, please. I’m really busy.” She paused, then asked, “What are you doing here?”

  I turned a brilliant smile on her. “I’m friends with Andy Andrews. He lives on the fifth floor but he wasn’t home, so I thought I’d look you up and apologize for running off so rudely at the supermarket. I just remembered that I had to pick up my skirt before the dry cleaners closed.”

  She nodded, still looking nervous, but the glint of fear in her eyes had faded a little. “No problem. I’ve had days like that.”

  “Say,” I added, “I hate to ask, but could I use your bathroom? I’ve got to pee and I can’t wait much longer.” When all else fails, resort to threats of wetting your pants. Kyle would laugh his ass off over that one.

  She bit her lip, then nodded, moving aside and opening the door. “Sure. Down that hall, second door to the right. But please, make it quick. If Colleen catches you here, she’ll . . .”

  I sauntered into the room and glanced around, looking for anything out of the ordinary. “She’ll what? She wouldn’t get mad at you for just letting me in, would she?”

  Debbie backpedaled as fast as she could. “No, it’s just that . . . she wouldn’t—I mean . . . She just doesn’t like unexpected company.”

  And I don’t like liars, I thought. And Debbie was lying through her teeth. “Second door on the right?”

  She nodded and at that moment, looked so young and so fragile that I wondered if I could be wrong? On one hand, for Trevor’s sake, I hoped I was right. On the other, I prayed that this was all some bizarre coincidence. The thought that Debbie had helped Colleen kill two people was more than I could stomach.

  On my way to the bathroom, I passed an open door. I glanced in and froze. The room was a very messy bedroom, decorated in shades of bubblegum pink. And on the wall, next to the bed, rested Aphrodite’s Mirror. Bingo!

  I could feel Debbie’s gaze on my back and I forced myself to continue into the bathroom, where I shut the door. There was no lock. I turned on the water full force and then flipped open my cell phone, punching in Kyle’s number. When he came on the line, I said, “Tell the judge that the mirror is here. I’m in Debbie’s apartment right now—invited, by the way. Get your warrant and get over here.”

  “Goddamn it, Persia! What did I tell you about snooping around?” Kyle’s voice thundered in my ear. “Get the hell out of there now, do you hear me?”

  “Yeah, yeah . . . just get over here soon.” I waited for a moment, then flushed the toilet, turned off the water, and quietly opened the door. I could hear whispering coming from the living room.

  “She saw it, I know she saw it!”

  “Quit whining. I’ll take care of this. Everything will be okay. Don’t I always make everything okay?”

  Forewarned, I stepped out into the hallway to find myself facing Colleen. She leaned against the wall, a sly smile playing across her lips. Debbie stood off to one side, fidgeting and twisting her hair around her finger.

  “Why, Persia. How nice to see you,” Colleen said. “Whatever brings you to our little abode?”

  Colleen’s right hand was in her jacket pocket and I had a sneaking suspicion that she wasn’t playing with a set of keys. “I was in the neighborhood—”

  “Cut the crap. We know why you’re here, don’t we, Debbie?”

  Debbie swallowed. “She might mean it, Colleen. She said she was visiting Andy Andrews—”

  Colleen whirled on her. “Honey, I love you, you know that, but sometimes you are dumber than a fencepost. Persia knows about Lydia. I saw it on her face at the supermarket.” She turned back to me. “You figured it out, didn’t you? When Debbie mentioned her father’s shop, you knew.”

  I eyed her quietly. “Whatever are you talking about, Colleen?”

  “Don’t play stupid, Persia. You’re not blind.” She locked the door behind her. “I know why you’re here. What tipped you off?”

  If I could keep her talking maybe I’d be able to distract her and get out of here.
At least I didn’t see a gun anywhere.

  “When Debbie mentioned her father’s locksmith business, I remembered that I’d left my purse out on the counter the day Lydia was murdered. That evening, I found my keys in the pocket of my jacket. But I always put my keys in my purse. I thought that I’d just had a brain fart, but when Debbie mentioned her father was Murv Harcourt, I knew.”

  “Pretty bright,” Colleen said.

  I edged my way toward the door, but she still blocked it. I stopped, considering the window. Three stories. Too high for a safe jump. “What did you do? Lift the keys out of my purse while I was at lunch, go over to her father’s shop, and make copies?”

  “Don’t tell her!” Debbie’s eyes were wide. “Don’t say anything or we’ll go to jail.”

  “Shut up,” Colleen said without even looking at her. “Nobody’s going to jail.” She withdrew her hand from her pocket and I saw that she had a sleek black plastic rectangle in her hand, with two metal prods on the end. Oh shit! Her stun gun! I’d forgotten all about that.

  “What are you planning on doing, Colleen? Killing me, like you did Lydia? With Debbie helping you?” I took one step back, willing myself into that quiet calm space that I always entered before an Aikido tournament.

  “No! I didn’t do anything to Lydia. I didn’t know it was going to happen.” Debbie was crying as Colleen stepped toward me, her gaze locked on mine. “It wasn’t my fault!”

  I flashed a quick look in Debbie’s direction. “Maybe you didn’t hit her, but you were there. You stole my keys and you made a copy of each one at your father’s shop. Then all you and Colleen had to do was wait until we closed and try each one to find the right match. Isn’t that the way it happened, Debbie?”

  Colleen’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t let her get to you—”

  Debbie dropped to her knees, tears streaming down her face. “It’s true, it’s all true. I copied your keys. Colleen told me to. She said we’d steal the mirror because I loved it so much. I wanted that mirror. I feel better every time I look in it.” She hunched over, hiding her face in her hands.

  I backed up another step. “So Colleen, you promised Debbie the mirror to get her to steal the keys? I’ll bet you had it all planned out. You called Lydia and told her to meet you. She thought it was because you were going to demand a blackmail payment.”

  She stopped then, looking startled. Good, I’d thrown her off guard. “How’d you find that out?” she asked.

  “I have my ways. I know that you tried to extort money from Lydia. But I think you planned on killing her all along so you could take her place. You probably started out just thinking about money, but the opportunity to get rid of her arose and you took advantage of it.”

  Colleen let out a high-pitched laugh. “Miss Lydia the all-high-and-mighty. Miss Lydia the bitch queen. Where’s her crown now, huh? I’ll tell you where it is! On my head! And Debbie’s got the mirror. And everything’s going to be just fine once, I—” At that moment, she leapt forward, the stun gun held out in her hand.

  I jumped to the side as much as the narrow hall would allow, bringing my leg up to block her attack. Her arm flew back and I heard a nasty crack as her hand hit the wall, but she managed to hold on to the stun gun.

  Colleen shrieked as she whirled. I couldn’t pull back far enough to get away; the wall blocked my retreat. She nicked my arm with the stun gun and pressed the trigger.

  It was as bad as grabbing hold of a downed power line. Rocked by the intensity of the shock, I let out an earsplitting howl as I fell to the floor and my muscles contracted uncontrollably. Twitching, I rolled over on my side, unable to do more than focus on breathing as the current worked its way through my system. The next moment, I saw Colleen bearing down with the stun gun again. I screamed in reflex, panicked that the next shock might stop my breathing altogether, although I knew that stun guns weren’t supposed to do any lasting damage.

  “Stop it! Stop it! Not again, Colleen. I can’t go through this again.” Debbie’s voice rang out from somewhere near my feet, but my nerves were too scrambled to allow me to lift my head.

  Colleen paused, in my line of sight just enough for me to see that she had turned around to look at Debbie. “Damn it, don’t fall apart on me now. Don’t you see? She knows. If we let her go, we’re dead meat.”

  “Better that than live with another murder on my conscience.” Debbie’s voice had turned defiant and I silently cheered her on. Maybe she had a backbone after all. “It’s all your fault—you couldn’t be happy with second place. You had to have it all, even if it meant killing Lydia to get what you wanted.”

  Way to go, Debbie, I thought. Keep her busy until the shock works its way out of my system—which would take another five to ten minutes if the gun was similar to the ones I’d trained with. My only hope was that Debbie could keep her talking long enough for me to recover the strength to fight my way out of here.

  Colleen smirked. “Give it up. You hated Lydia just as much as I did. Look at the way she treated you! And Trevor, don’t get me started on him! He acted like you weren’t even alive. I did you a favor when I pinned her death on his shoulders.”

  “Trevor isn’t like that! Lydia had him fooled.”

  “Oh yeah, the hunk couldn’t help himself, slobbering over the beauty queen.” Colleen turned back to me, leaning down to stare in my face. “Persia, I’m sorry you got mixed up in this, but I can’t let you go. You understand, don’t you? Debbie and I will leave town after I finish up with you. Oh hell, I’ll be back in a minute.”

  I heard her say to Debbie, “Watch her. If she moves, hit her again with the gun. You know how to use it, so don’t get all squeamish on me.”

  As she disappeared from view, I noticed a tingling in my fingers again. The numbness was wearing off. I focused my energy on slowly clenching and unclenching my hands. My grip was nonexistent, but at least I was moving. As my toes began to tingle, I realized that within a moment or two I’d be able to stand up, but I also knew I’d be dizzy as hell so I had to make every second count.

  I took a slow, deep breath and shook my shoulders to get the blood flowing. I kept waiting for Debbie to notice and shock me again, but apparently she was off in her own little world, because she said nothing.

  Colleen reappeared, holding a long knife in her hand. “I couldn’t find anything else,” she said with a cheery smile. “But this is sharp so it will all be over fast.”

  I sucked in a deep breath as she brought her arm up, the blade pointing straight down toward my heart. As it began to descend, I forced myself to twist to the side, rolling as hard and as fast as I could. The knife slammed into the floor next to me—I could feel the swish of air as it hit the carpet and stuck.

  “Shit!” Colleen stumbled back a step. I pushed myself to a sitting position and fumbled for the knife, trying to grasp the handle with my weakened grip as I awkwardly pulled myself up, using the wall for support.

  “You’ve got the gun! Get her!” Colleen screamed, waving frantically at Debbie.

  Debbie stood there, uncertain, her gaze flickering from Colleen’s face to mine, then back to Colleen’s. As I watched, as if in slow motion, Debbie brought the gun up and turned it my way. Then she whirled, catching Colleen in the side. Colleen screamed so loud I thought she was dying. She convulsed and fell to the floor. Debbie looked over at me, panting.

  “No more,” she said. “No more.”

  Just then, a pounding on the door was followed by Kyle’s voice. “Open up! Police!” The cavalry had arrived.

  Colleen had broken her arm when she fell and the paramedics strapped her onto the stretcher and took her away, an officer riding shotgun. Debbie limply submitted to handcuffs, and as a policewoman led her off, she glanced back at me.

  “I never meant to hurt anybody. I didn’t want any of this. I just wanted to be liked. I tried to get Trevor off the hook.”

  “You made the phone call and left the note, didn’t you?”

  She nodded, sniffling.
“Yeah, I couldn’t stand to see him in trouble. I love him.”

  I stared at her silently, not sure what to say. Debbie had gotten railroaded into something bigger than she could control, but she had the chance to put it right and she hadn’t. As far as I was concerned, she was as guilty as Colleen.

  Kyle helped me over to the sofa, where I submitted to an EMT who insisted on checking me out. Once he proclaimed me fit, just a little shell-shocked, and told me to avoid driving for a day or so, the paramedics packed up and left.

  I looked at Kyle as his men swept through the apartment, beginning the long search for evidence. “Don’t let them break the mirror,” I said, though I knew that I never wanted to see it again.