How did she know? Youngquist? Probably. “He called me last night. He confessed to killing Gina Mae. But... when I asked him about Pam and Chloe, he said... he said to ask you how they died.”
Brianne sighed. “Yes.”
Spenser leaned forward. “He was just making trouble. Right? Chloe and Pam died of natural causes. Because of their illnesses. Right?”
Brianne's trembling hands set the glass on the table. "I have something for you." The doctor opened the top drawer of her desk and brought out a blue notebook. Tucker’s blue notebook.
Spenser felt reality slipping away.
"I'm afraid I've made a mess of things." Brianne opened the notebook and a piece of crumpled paper slipped out. She began pressing the wrinkles with her hands. "He told me you'd be there any minute." Brianne's words were slurred. "He wanted $100,000 and then he would just disappear. But I knew better."
Brianne slid the paper toward Spenser. In a shaky hand, the letter began, ‘I, Ival Overoye, killed Gina Mae Ambrose by choking her with a Special Olympics medal that belonged to Tucker Watts. I also stole jewelry from the residents of the Sunflower.’ Spenser stopped reading and looked at Brianne. "He was never going to let you leave alive, Spenser. He was a vile, vicious insect who preyed on good people."
"You killed Overoye?" Spenser’s words sounded distant even to her ears.
"Yes." Brianne was having trouble breathing. So was Spenser. "He was blackmailing me." Brianne's answer came out simply. A matter of fact. The director looked at her left hand, at the beautiful, simple wedding band. She touched it gently, focusing on some image slightly beyond the present.
"My husband and I were happier than any two people had a right to be." Brianne’s smile was once again radiant. Then it turned to despair. "The stroke robbed him of all that he was. All that was us. He was a shell. Barely alive. In pain physically and emotionally. When he begged me to end his suffering I was appalled." Her breathing was becoming more labored. "But I did it. It took all of my love. But I did it. I gave him an overdose of Barbiturates. His heart just stopped."
Spenser was horrified. "But...how could you?"
"Spenser, it was a good death. The look on his face...he was finally at peace." Brianne's tears glistened on her beautiful face. Spenser tried to absorb what she was hearing but it was all too fantastic. "When I started at the Sunflower I knew my purpose. There was Pam. Such an innocent. Suffering in unbearable silence." Spenser didn't want to hear anymore.
"I mixed the barbiturates with her sweet tea. I was so careful. But Overoye saw me. He threatened to expose me. I had so much to do, Spenser. I couldn't allow him to destroy everything I'd worked so hard to accomplish.
"I looked the other way whenever something went missing. I thought that would be enough. But then he wanted more." Brianne grabbed at her chest, gasping for air.
Spenser looked at the empty glass on the table. The sick realization sinking in. "Barbiturates." She ran into the hall. "Help, I need help.”
She saw Chip and Quinn-Jackson come racing toward her.
“What?” asked Quinn-Jackson.
“It’s Brianne, she’s taken an overdose. Barbiturates, I think.”
“What?!” asked a confused Chip.
“Chip,” Quinn-Jackson's words were precise, “call 911.” Chip hesitated. “Now!”
Chip ran to the reception desk and called for paramedics as Quinn-Jackson followed Spenser into the office. Quinn-Jackson felt for a pulse. “Help me move her to the sofa, Spense.”
Both women gently raised Brianne from her chair and guided her to the sofa. They laid her down, her head in Spenser’s lap, Quinn-Jackson monitoring her vitals. A sudden convulsion tore through Brianne.
Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the spasms subsided. An angelic smile crossed Brianne's face; the smile that had won Spenser's heart, the smile that would haunt Spenser's dreams for many years to come.
"Overoye heard Gina Mae’s plans to find the thief." Brianne's voice was calm but faint. "He honestly thought she was a threat." Spenser began stroking Brianne’s golden hair. A look of euphoria spread across the doctor's face. There was no more worry. She was at peace with herself, with the world. Spenser envied her tranquility.
"The envelope..." She was fading. "...Overoye’s signed confession. And mine. With a disk detailing our actions. I'm so sorry I caused you and CC such pain." Brianne smiled up at Spenser and with the last of her strength said, "It's a good way to die." And then she did.
Spenser heard the sirens, saw the flashing lights. Quinn-Jackson felt for a pulse. Then she felt again. But it was all too late. “She’s gone.”
Spenser'd been here before. Staring confused, angry, shocked at the realness of death. The essence that had been Brianne Saunders was gone. Leaving only the shell of this complex woman.
The paramedics stayed long enough to call the coroner and Spenser had the presence of mind to call Youngquist. After Spenser had told the lieutenant exactly what had happened, numerous times, it was the detective's guess that the confessions would hold up.
Spenser drove to the station and signed her statement. Then she drove home. She parked the Shadow, went into her tin house, shut off the lights, climbed into bed still fully clothed, and let the day's horrors wash over her. And then she cried.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Wednesday - morning
Spenser sat in her warm kitchen slash dining room slash living room on her dinged chrome chair nursing a tepid O'Doul's as her best friend carried on a very one-sided conversation.
"Don't you think," asked the buoyant Bea, "that ravishing sensitivity is oxymoronic?" No response. If Spenser heard she did not give any indication. But would that deter Bea? Hell, no.
"I think what the world needs is more tactile kinetic stimulation. Don't you think? Or don't you?" Bea smiled, mostly to herself. "I wouldn't mind making my point with Keanu Reeves." It was a shame Spenser was missing this. Bea was on a roll. "You know," continued the effervescent chum, "a little acknowledgment of my presence would be greatly appreciated."
Silence. "Not much, mind you," she sped on undeterred. "No speech is necessary. You need not orate, palaver, address, speak, communicate, utter or even breathe a syllable. Just a simple twitch of the eyebrow, a quiver, a slight palpitation, a flicker..."
"Bea." Spenser was un-amused.
"Why are you doing this to yourself?"
"She was a murderer."
"We are simply atoms, my friend." She would try philosophy. "Cosmic components of an infinite Rube Goldberg contraption."
"So, you're saying that it was in the stars for Brianne to murder people?"
"I'm saying, Spenser, that she was simply being true to her nature. We are who we are meant to be."
"What a load."
"Are you upset because she murdered people or because you’re afraid you agree with her that sometimes killing can be a mercy?"
Spenser's frown was half-hearted. "I really hate it when you read my mind."
"I know." Bea took Spenser's hands in hers and smiled into her friend's greenish, bluish orbs. "The important thing is that Tucker is alive and well and can now grieve for Gina Mae."
They heard the sound of tires crunching loose gravel. Spenser walked to the door and was surprised to see Tessa Youngquist get out of her car and walk up the stairs. They faced each other through the screen. Spenser was actually glad to see her.
"Slumming?"
"You're a riot, Isaacs. You gonna let me in or do I need a search warrant?"
Spenser hid a grin as she opened the screen and let the detective in.
"Did you know that your neighbor has binoculars trained on this trailer?"
Spenser faced her neighbor. Maybe that's how he knew what was going on in the park. He probably even knows how to read lips. The thought cracked her up. She joined Bea and the lieutenant at the table. "Something to drink?"
"No, thanks." Tessa marveled at how comfortable she felt, sitting next to these two very different
people in this very unusual abode. "I came by to tell you that the DA has recommended bail for Tucker. He should be released sometime this afternoon."
"It's about bloody time." Spenser sighed.
“Will the confessions hold up?” asked Bea.
"That’s something the DA will have to decide. But I can tell you this, there were some very specific and incriminating details from Dr Saunders and Overoye. I think that plus the stolen jewelry and finding Gina Mae’s bracelet in Overoye’s hidey-hole should make it an easier prospect.”
“Good to hear,” said Bea, smiling at the young woman.
“Um... I also wanted to ... say ... that ..." Youngquist was at a loss how to continue.
"You were just doing your job." Spenser decided to let her off the hook.
"Yes." Youngquist relaxed. "You have another O’Doul’s?"
"Coming up."
Spenser went to the tiny refrigerator, pulled out the near beer, and set the bottle and a glass in front of the lieutenant. Youngquist twisted off the cap and drank from the bottle. Which is exactly how Spenser liked it. All right. Maybe she's not a complete putz after all.
"Saunders’ confession detailed her reasoning behind what she called mercy killings. Her words." Tessa took another swig. “And it didn’t start with Pam Vacarro either. There were three other mercies.” Youngquist said the word with contempt. “She was convinced that she was actually helping these people."
"She believed it." Spenser was trying her best to understand.
"Seems Overoye started stealing from residents two days after he was hired. Saunders was about to can his ass when he witnessed one of her mercies. She wanted to continue with her work, again her words, so she found herself looking the other way whenever anything went missing."
"What went wrong, Lieutenant?" asked Bea.
"It was one sad coincidence after another. Gina Mae saw something she didn't understand, Dr Saunders ministering to Chloe. What she didn't realize was that the good doctor had just given Chloe a lethal dose of Barbiturates. She also didn't know that Overoye had seen her walking away from Chloe's room. Saunders had Overoye convinced that Gina Mae would be no problem until..."
"He heard Gina Mae talking about the Sunflower Detective Agency," finished Spenser.
"Boasting that she was going to find the thief,” continued the detective. “He knew that even the ramblings of a simpleton would be, if not taken seriously, at least listened to. He couldn't take that chance. He knew Tucker had given Gina Mae that medal and figured he could eliminate two birds with that one stone."
“But what about Amy and Patty? Was he going to kill them, too?” asked Bea.
“I doubt it. They told Gina Mae that they were through with spying.”
"Surely Brianne wouldn’t have let Overoye get away with killing Gina Mae and implicating Tucker?" Bea didn't think that possible.
"No." Tessa took the last swig of the brew. "She decided to wait. Hoping that the evidence would point to Overoye without getting involved."
"She was still trying to protect her...work." Bea understood.
"Exactly."
"I don’t know.” Spenser shook her head. “Seeing Tucker and CC in such distress...”
"I’m positive she would never have allowed Tucker to be convicted,” countered Bea. “She thought she was saving people she cared about from a life of suffering, Spenser.”
Saving people. Spenser'd had that idea dogging her every step since she was 11 years old. And it still made no sense. Her own inability to save Asa. Her failure to stop Randy's fatal escape from pain. Brianne's noble, misguided quest to end suffering.
Maybe the point was there was no point. People do what they do out of their own personal interpretation of life - and death. People would continue trying to save other people. Sometimes succeeding; sometimes failing. Others would define salvation through the easing of other's pain. Sometimes life sustaining. Sometimes not. It was simply who they were.
The trailer was silent. The threesome listened to the sounds of the park as campers, coming and going, threw greetings into the air. They heard the ducks and pelicans and egrets and cormorants noisily dodging human detritus in their quest for lunch. They felt the chill of the disappearing sun shrouded by encroaching clouds. There really was nothing more to say. Nothing more to be done.
"How 'bout lunch?" asked Bea breaking the spell of gloomy thoughts. "My treat."
"I never say no to a free lunch," answered Tessa.
And so, Spenser let go. She symbolically expunged the hurt and bitterness from her mind and heart and just let go. She would enjoy the company of her best friend and her, possibly, new friend and just get on with the rest of her life.
"I have to warn you, Lieutenant,” said Spenser confidentially. “Bea's idea of lunch usually has something to do with a chef named McDonald and a continental delicacy known as le fry de la Francaise."
Tessa started laughing.
"That's not funny." Bea pretended to be hurt.
The women exited the trailer into a beautiful, clear, cool autumn day. As Spenser locked the Silverstream, she heard the raspy tones of Rasmussen calling across the spaces.
"Little Donny Hooks' fever broke last night. Looks like he's gonna be just fine."
Spenser walked to her car as Rasmussen's words caught a breeze and lifted into the troposphere. Little Donny Hooks was going to be fine. Tucker Watts was going to be fine. And Spenser Isaacs was also going to be fine. It would just take her a little longer.
EPILOGUE
Tucker Watts missed that Halloween’s festivities. But early in November, the Sunflower's spirited rendition of ‘Peter and the Wolf’ more than made up for his aborted holiday. Toots Van Der Neese's costumes for the Sunflower Players dazzled everyone. Tucker's grandfather lederhosen were especially becoming. The moneys collected for the production did indeed allow for a new game room.
Tucker had healed faster than anyone, not fully comprehending just how close he'd come to imprisonment. Spenser the slowest. But she was nevertheless healing. It was at times an agonizing process. She often wondered if the end justified the effort. But then when she was at her lowest she'd remember an old Jewish proverb that seemed fitting. 'A person should live if only for curiosity's sake'. She figured she'd give it a shot.
Thank you for downloading “Death on Planet Pizza”. Please take a moment to post a review of this book on Amazon. All comments, criticisms and suggestions are greatly appreciated.
Other works by Madeline Lepore Martin: “Butchie and the Bird Dog”, a children’s story; “Behind the 8-Ball”, a short story noir; and “The Play, a play in one-act”. Available from Amazon.com for Kindle. Write to Madeline at [email protected].
DEATH ON PLANET PIZZA
All rights reserved
Copyright © 2012 Madeline Lepore Martin
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No part of this book may be used, reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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