by Amy Vansant
Charlotte’s head cocked.
What a gorgeous bra. Where does she get underwear like that?
Charlotte shook her head, getting back to the crisis at hand. Stephanie wasn’t bleeding but she was also not moving.
Is she breathing? Was there a second shot she hadn’t registered?
Charlotte put her hand in front of Stephanie’s nose but she couldn’t feel anything. She couldn’t tell if her chest was rising. She dipped her ear toward Stephanie’s parted lips.
“Stephanie? Stephanie? Oooph!”
Stephanie gasped and sat up, slamming her face into the side of Charlotte’s head. Both of them bounced in the opposite direction, Stephanie to the ground and Charlotte back on her butt.
Both raised their hands to their heads.
“What are you doing?” barked Stephanie, cradling her nose.
“I was trying to see if you were breathing.”
“By kissing me?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Charlotte rocked back to her knees. “I was trying to see if I could hear you breathe.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“You’re an idiot. You walked right into a bullet. I saw you. You purposely left the tree line.”
Stephanie sat up grumbling, trying in vain to pull her shirt together. Finding the buttons had been torn away, she glared at Charlotte.
“You ruined my shirt.”
“I was trying to save your life.”
“I was fine.”
“You walked into a bullet. On purpose.”
Stephanie closed her eyes tight, her jaw bulging as she grit her teeth. “I needed to know if she’d shoot.”
“She shot. Look at your chest.” Charlotte saw the expression on Stephanie’s face shift to what she could only describe as pain. By closing her eyes so tightly, she seemed to be sealing herself from the world, as if her eyes were doorways for bad things to enter. She raised her hands and covered her ears.
She wasn’t in physical pain.
Her mother had shot her.
Charlotte couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to discover your own mother wanted you dead. It had to be devastating.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
Stephanie released a breath. Her body relaxed and she opened her eyes, lowering her hands from her ears. She seemed almost serene. As if some other person had assumed control of her body. Her gaze flicked to Charlotte.
“Yeah, well, keep your face out of my face.”
Charlotte couldn’t tell if Stephanie knew she was saying sorry for Jamie’s betrayal, not for clunking heads. She let it go.
Stephanie gingerly touched the bruise on her chest, wincing.
“That really hurt.”
“I bet.”
“Did they get her?”
Charlotte realized she hadn’t received a call. She’d been so worried about Stephanie she’d forgotten about the other half of the operation. “I don’t know.”
“Charlotte!”
She heard Declan screaming somewhere to her left.
“That’s Declan,” said Stephanie, head swiveling.
Charlotte scowled. “I know.”
“He’s running.” Stephanie’s eyes grew wide. “Is she coming this way?”
Jamie’s loose.
Charlotte stood and scanned the trees, trying to figure the most direct path Jamie might have taken from the office building to their current location. She pulled her gun from her holster. For once, she’d remembered to bring it when it mattered.
“Give me your gun,” said Stephanie.
“What? No.”
“I need to be the one to kill her. Give me your gun.”
“No—”
Stephanie lunged toward her and then yelped in pain, grabbing her chest as Charlotte jerked away from her.
“You probably broke a rib. I wouldn’t move. It could stab your heart or lung and you’ll be dead before an ambulance can get here.”
Stephanie’s eyes were filled with tears and fire, her lip trembling. “Give me your gun. Let me kill her.”
“No. She wants you dead as it is. Don’t give her an excuse to try again.”
Stephanie laughed. “You think she’ll hesitate to shoot you? She was willing to shoot her own daughter.”
“Because she thought you were going to turn on her.”
“Yes. With me maybe she needed a reason, but she’ll shoot you for existing. For standing between her and me when she wants me dead.”
Charlotte felt her stomach grow woogy.
Stephanie had a point. Was there a place they could hide? It’s not like there was a handy cave or a closet nearby. They’d have to stand their ground.
Charlotte did her best to force down her fear. “No. Be quiet—”
“Step away.”
Charlotte whirled at the sound of the voice behind her.
Jamie stood behind her in a torn dress, a handgun pointed at them.
Charlotte’s hand tightened on her own weapon.
“If you’re wondering if you can lift that before I shoot you, the answer is no,” said Jamie.
Charlotte took a step in front of Stephanie. “You can’t kill your own daughter.”
“It was you who cooked up this trap, wasn’t it?” asked Jamie.
Charlotte didn’t know what to say.
“Did you know that’s the only reason you’re not already dead? I liked the idea of keeping you alive. You’re fun.”
Stephanie groaned, glaring at Charlotte. “What is it about you? First my boyfriend. Now my mother?”
Jamie’s attention shifted to her daughter. “And you. Your DNA has become a liability.”
Stephanie shifted and sucked in a breath, clearly in pain. “Why should I have any loyalty to you?”
“I made you who you are.”
Hearing Declan call out again, Charlotte’s attention moved beyond Jamie. He was getting closer. Jamie would have to make her move and run very soon.
But I know something you don’t, Jamie.
There was more than just Declan somewhere behind Jamie.
There was also a large drone, sweeping through the sky, dodging trees.
Ramming speed, Mr. Blade.
Charlotte tried not to wince as the drone approached at a high speed, aiming for the back of Jamie’s head. Charlotte looked at Jamie’s gun, still pointed at Stephanie. If it went off when the drone struck her—
“Behind you!” Charlotte screamed at the last possible second.
Jamie turned, the movement of her body shifting the gun away from Stephanie just enough. It fired as the drone plowed into her forehead at full-throttle.
Jamie flew backwards as if someone had jerked her on a string. The gun spilled from her hand and landed whirling not far from Stephanie, playing its own deadly game of spin the bottle. The drone crashed to the ground, buzzing and twisting like a wounded beetle. Charlotte jumped on Jamie as she fell. She straddled her foe, pinning her arms. Jamie didn’t fight her. She seemed dazed. The blow had left her face cut and bleeding.
“I’ll kill you,” said Stephanie, reaching for the gun. She cried out with the effort as Declan arrived, panting, his gun drawn.
“Get the gun,” said Charlotte nodding to the gun at Stephanie’s fingertips.
Declan leapt over Jamie’s feet to snatch the gun as Stephanie’s clawing fingers strained to reach it.
“No!” moaned Stephanie, sounding more like a wounded animal than an angry woman. She looked up at Declan. “Shoot her. Shoot her for me.”
Declan shook his head. “Lie still.”
Stephanie closed her eyes and lay back down, her fists clenched.
Jamie’s eyes fluttered open and she stared up into Charlotte’s face. Her eyes shifted to the left to stare down the barrel of Declan’s gun, which he now held trained on her. She returned her gaze to Charlotte and grinned. One of her front teeth had been knocked free by the drone.
“This isn’t over,” she said.
Charlotte felt a rus
h of adrenaline and pushed harder on Jamie’s trapped wrists.
“It is today.”
Cormac arrived, sweating. He rested his hands just above his knees, panting. “Assessing the situation,” he said between gasps for air. After a moment he pulled a pair of handcuffs from the belt of his tactical uniform and slapped one end on Jamie’s right wrist. He tapped the side of Charlotte’s arm.
“You’re going to have to release her if I’m going to finish this.”
Grudgingly, Charlotte released her grip on the handcuffed hand. She’d enjoyed having Jamie pinned. This could have been the only time she’d ever have control over her. The one time she knew where she was.
Cormac finished cuffing Jamie and lifted her to her feet to pat her down for weapons.
Jamie glanced at Stephanie.
“When they call you into court, don’t be stupid.”
Stephanie’s lids opened, her gaze as cold as if her eyes were chipped from ice. She smiled at her mother.
“Nice teeth.”
Charlotte heard ambulance sirens wail in the distance.
Chapter Forty
Charlotte, Blade and Declan were standing behind the counter of Declan’s pawn shop when Stephanie entered. It had been a week since their showdown with Jamie, who remained in custody, charges mounting against her as various law enforcement agencies built their cases against her.
“Well, if it isn’t the hero who took a bullet to capture the most notorious serial killer of all time,” said Declan. Stephanie had been hailed a hero in the national news. The press couldn’t get enough of the serial killer’s legal-eagle daughter, bringing down her evil mother singlehanded. Or at least that’s how most of the stories read. Somehow, Charlotte’s and Declan’s parts in the capture had been largely overlooked. Cormac, of course, had never been there.
Stephanie tossed her hair over her shoulder with a flick of her head. “I’m flooded with calls from producers. They want to make a movie about the girl who captured her killer mother. But I’m sure you two are fielding offers as well.”
“I didn’t get any calls from producers,” mumbled Charlotte.
Declan chuckled. “Why would we? We’re chopped liver.” He closed his register drawer. “So why did you squeeze this visit into your busy schedule?”
“Oh, I thought I’d swing by and thank you both for stopping me from killing my mother.”
Charlotte smiled. “See? I told you you’d regret it if you did it.”
Stephanie rolled her eyes. “I’m being sarcastic. You’re both morons. You know she’s going to get out.”
Declan shook his head. “No. They have her dead to rights.”
“How do you figure?”
“She tried to shoot you from the rooftop.”
Stephanie’s eyebrows raised. “Did she? Did you see her pull the trigger?”
“No, but she was the only one there. The only one rappelling down the building two seconds after we heard the shot—”
“Sure, logic dictates she pulled the trigger. But the law isn’t about logic. Hell, I could get her off that charge with one WestLaw search and a low-cut blouse.”
Charlotte frowned. “That’s depressing to hear.”
“It doesn’t matter. They’ll pin other murders on her,” said Declan.
Stephanie poked at a stuffed bear propped on a bureau to her left and then recoiled as if the fur was made of spider webs. “You’re so naive. Mom has friends. She hasn’t avoided capture all these years without help. She’ll be out in a month.”
“We’ll see,” said Charlotte, her mind already racing for ways to prove Jamie was the killer they knew her to be.
Stephanie shrugged. “In the meantime, I’m thinking I might have to become a defense attorney. I hear there’s an opening in the D.A. office.”
Charlotte, winced. “Come on…”
Stephanie grinned. “What, too soon?”
THE END
Pineapple
Puppies
A Pineapple Port Mystery: Book Nine
Amy Vansant
©2019 by Amy Vansant. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, by any means, without the permission of the author. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2019905447
Vansant Creations, LLC / Amy Vansant
Annapolis, MD
http://www.AmyVansant.com
Copyediting by Carolyn Steele.
Proofreading by Effrosyni Moschoudi & Connie Leap
Chapter One
Mina gave the body on the ground one good kick with a sensible shoe.
It barely moved.
More importantly, it didn’t make a sound. It didn’t complain, which was unusual for that particular body.
She rested her knuckles against her lips and stared at the dead man, sorting her emotions. On one hand, Kimber’s death meant she was out of a job. On the other hand…
Stop it. That’s terrible.
Still…
Next door, the tiny Yorkie puppies had whipped themselves into a yipping frenzy. Mina rubbed her hands on her apron and waddled out of Kimber’s room to the next door down the hallway toward the stairs. Opening it a crack, she made sure to use her foot as a wedge to block any chance of escape. Tiny noses and paws pushed at her shoe as she eased them back.
Struck by the irony that the same black working shoe that had just touched death was now swarmed by so much life, she allowed herself a little smile.
Mina slipped inside the whelping room and shut the door behind her. She wanted to lie on the floor and let them run all over her. The poor things had lost someone, too. The puppies’ champion mother, Princess Buttercup, had suffered a complication during pregnancy and they’d lost her. She, Kimber, and presumably the puppies, had been devastated.
Since then, Mina had been the puppies’ mother, keeping the little furballs alive and happy as best she could. Kimber had loved those dogs, but now he was dead…Mina supposed she’d have to sell them. She didn’t have the time or the knowhow to raise them as show dogs.
She’d miss them. They were a tremendous pain in the neck but so cute. Even now one stared at her, dancing on his toes, readying himself to jump on her face the moment she lowered herself to the floor. He wanted to pounce. It was written all over his snout.
She was halfway to the floor when a stifled sob came from the closet. Mina fell back against the cabinet, startled.
“Who’s in there?”
“It’s me.”
The slatted door of the closet slid open to reveal a woman sitting on the floor of the closet, half-tucked behind a laundry basket. As the light fell on her, her eyes flashed white.
“What are you doing in there?” asked Mina.
The woman shook her head. “He’s dead.”
“I know. Get out. Don’t worry.”
The stowaway crawled out of the closet, mascara smeared beneath each eye where she’d been crying. Standing, she smoothed her shorts and wrapped her arms around her chest.
“What am I going to do? He fell.”
“You were there?”
“Yes. I mean, no. Not really. I heard a thunk while I was in here with the puppies and went to look. I think he tried to get out of bed and fell.”
Mina frowned. “You shouldn’t have been up here.”
“I know. I wanted to see the puppies.”
Mina shook her head and motioned to the door leading to the hall. “Get out of here.”
“What?”
“Get out.”
“But—”
“I’ll let them know it was an accident.” Mina closed her eyes as the puppies tumbled over her toes, hoping she was doing the right thing. There was nothing she could do for Kimber, but she could still help the girl. She’d already been through so much and with her family history…
The young woman’s hand reached out for the
knob and then retracted. She turned back to Mina.
“What if they investigate?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if they think his death is suspicious? I touched things.”
“What things?”
“Knobs. Maybe the bed posts?”
“Anything else?”
She looked down.
“The puppies. They were all over me. They must be covered in my hair, my DNA—” She looked at Mina, eyes telegraphing her rising panic. “What if they know no one but you is ever up here? What if the girls mention it and then they find me all over the puppy room?”
Mina watched a puppy steadily chew the end of her shoelace, the fabric tucked in the back of its maw, where its sharp little molars could grind away.
What am I going to do with you little rascals?
“Take them.”
“What?”
Mina opened the closet and pulled out a small dog carrying case.
“Take them. No one will know they’re missing. I won’t mention them and I’ll clean the room.”
“They’re purebreds. You want me to sell them?”
Mina cocked an eyebrow. “You mean so you can get caught and they know you killed him?”
“But I didn’t—”
“You know what I mean. If you’re caught selling his dogs—”
“Right. I understand.”
“Just take them. I’ll clean up before I call the police. You take the dogs.”
“But what should I do with them?”
Mina began shoveling puppies into the crate. “Find them good homes. Loving homes.”
“But where?”
“Figure it out. I can’t do everything.” Puppies packed, Mina closed the carrying case and pointed to the handle on top.
“Take it. Go.”
The woman took the case as if dazed. Mina opened the door for her. She walked into the hall, the case rocking as the puppies inside rolled around, still playing. She paused and turned back to Mina.
“Thank you.”
One puppy began to whine and the others joined in until Mina couldn’t hear herself think.
“Go.”
The young woman turned and jogged down the stairs as best she could with a box full of howling puppies hanging from one hand.
