"Which is why you asked me to coffee the next day," I said, puzzle pieces finally falling into place. "You wanted to know what the police knew." I'd thought he'd been there at the request of his mother…but in reality John had wanted to make sure no one was on to him.
He nodded. "That was alarming. Everyone was supposed to think it was an accident, so I had to switch gears. Quickly."
"What did you do?"
He cocked his head to the side again, giving me a look like he expected I already knew. "I followed you, of course."
"Me?" I asked. "Why?"
"Did you really think it was that hard to find out you were married to a police officer?"
Mental forehead smack. "I guess you know how to google, huh?"
"Yeah. I'm brilliant like that," he shot back sarcastically.
Tina nudged me with her foot, and I stole a glance her way. Her eyes were on a cheese grater that had landed a few inches away from her leg. I carefully moved my left foot, scooting the utensil closer to her.
"What I don't understand is why," I said, trying to draw his attention away from Tina. "Why kill your father? For the money your mom inherited?"
John shook his head vehemently. "It was never about the money!" he spat out.
"So tell me what it was about," I coaxed. "About cutting you out of his will? About getting back at him for how he treated you and your mother?"
John glared at me. "Hard to pick just one horrible thing dear old Dad did, isn't it?"
He had a good point there. "So it was payback for your entire upbringing?"
"What do you take me for? A child?" He shoved the gun in my direction. I tried to back up, feeling the cabinet handle bite into my ribs.
"Of course not," I assured him quickly.
"I wasn't pouting about being unloved by my ridiculous excuse for a father. I gave up caring about that a long time ago. I told you. He had to be stopped."
"I still don't understand. Stopped from what?" My eyes cut to Tina, who had managed to scoot the grater behind her. I could see the concentration on her face as she moved the sharp metal edge of it against her bonds behind her back.
"My father ruined everything he touched," John replied. "Every woman who came near him. My mother would have let him walk all over her. She was so blinded by her devotion to him." He shook his head. "It was pathetic."
"She seemed to genuinely care for him."
"Oh, she did." He squared his jaw. "Still does. But even after he ruined her life, he didn't care. He just kept going through women like they were disposable, like they existed solely for his pleasure. It was almost like he enjoyed seeing woman debase themselves just to get near his celebrity. He ruined them one by one."
"I'm sorry for saying so, but Blakely's and Caitlyn's lives don't seem ruined. Your father was paying them alimony. Quite a lot, if they are to be believed."
John trained his eyes on me. "Money. Again with the money. Is that all that matters to you women, huh?"
Oops. I clamped my mouth shut, clearly having hit a nerve.
"I told you this wasn't about money!" he shouted. "It was about love. I loved her!"
"Her?" I asked, confusion setting in again. "Your mother?"
"Chloe," he shot back, emotion choking off the word. He took a deep, shuddering breath, as if just saying her name out loud brought him down to reality again. "Chloe was the one good thing in my life. And he had to ruin that too."
"He ruined Chloe?"
He scrubbed his free hand over his face. Even in the dimly lit room, I could see the dark circles under his eyes. "Chloe was perfect. Beautiful, smart, and caring. Her heart was so pure. The best day of my life was when I proposed to Chloe and she said yes. We were going to be together forever, just the two of us. I was getting a second chance at a real family. Real love. She was perfect."
"She seems like a wonderful girl," I said, agreeing with him.
"She is," he spat at me.
Geez, nothing I said was right.
"Her heart was so big. It was her idea that I try to reconcile with my father. She wanted us all to be one big happy family." A shadow crossed his face. "But it was already too late."
"Too late?" I asked. I felt Tina move beside me. I didn't dare glance her way, just praying she was as adept at escape as she was at lock picking.
"I brought Chloe to meet my father," John continued. "I knew she'd be excited, being that she was such a big fan of his." The words were filled with enough disdain that I didn't have to guess how he felt about that. "But as soon as I introduced her to Dog, I knew something was off. Something in the way he looked at her. The way she couldn't quite meet his eyes." He closed his own eyes, as if trying to block out the image of it.
I tensed, feeling like this may be an opportunity, but then his eyes sprang open again so suddenly that my heart skipped a beat.
"After she left, I confronted Dog. And it all came out." A vein bulged in John's neck, his fingers gripping tightly around the gun.
I almost hesitated to ask, but… "What came out?"
"I'd heard the story, of course," he went on, almost talking to himself as much as to me. "When my father was married to Caitlyn. Not that I was ever close with that brainless body builder, but she told anyone who would listen about how he'd cheated on her with some fan after one of his shows."
I blinked at him, the realization suddenly setting in. "Chloe? She's the groupie Dog cheated on Caitlyn with?" I guessed.
"Yes." His jaw tensed, that vein vibrating so visibly I could almost take his pulse from my spot on the floor. "He used her just like he'd used every woman in his life. Every woman in my life! Charmed her, took from her, then left her ruined like she was nothing."
I bit my lip, hesitating to point out that it took two to tango. From what I'd seen of Chloe, she hadn't looked particularly ruined. In fact, the way she spoke of Dog with almost hero worship, I'd say she didn't seem unhappy about any of it.
Except maybe John finding out.
"Did Chloe tell you this?"
"Not at first. But after my father"—he said the word on a sneer—"told me just how he knew my girlfriend, I confronted her too. To be honest, I'd almost thought Dog was lying. Just trying to get under my skin like he always did. That there was no way someone as smart and perfect as Chloe would fall prey to his ridiculous bravado." He shook his head. "I guess I underestimated how alluring celebrity can be."
"I'm sorry," I said softly.
John's breath came out in halted gasps as he struggled to maintain what tentative grip he had on his emotions. "She said it was all true. That she and some friends had met him after a concert a couple of years ago. Dog had invited her backstage, and…" He trailed off, eyes closing again as he rubbed one balled fist into them.
Tina shifted beside me, inching closer. Then I felt her hands connect with mine, the cold metal of the grater coming up against my wrist as she went to work on my bonds as well.
"So you killed your father out of revenge for sleeping with Chloe?" I asked, hoping to keep his attention on the topic at hand and not on what was happening to my hands.
"Revenge is pointless. I killed him for peace. What he did to Chloe? That was the last straw. I watched my father abuse and degrade women my entire life. I wasn't going to let it continue anymore."
The refrigerator to our left began to hum loudly, which I was grateful for because it covered up the sound of the cheese grater against the electrical tape behind me. "Does Chloe know you killed Dog?" I asked, hoping to keep him talking just a little bit longer.
"Of course not," he snapped. "Chloe would never condone something like that." He shook his head. "But I knew it had to be done. After Dog told me about him and Chloe, do you know what he did?"
I shook my head. "What?"
"He laughed. He patted me on the back. Like it was all a big joke and we could go out and have a beer together, talk about how we'd shared the same woman. It was disgusting."
"So you put together a plan to poison him?"
The anger in John's eyes took on a different look, suddenly dull and flat as his face broke into a grin that was positively creepy. "It was easy, really. Everyone knew he downed those Invigorate drinks like they were water. They were sweet enough that he never even tasted anything different. I knew the antifreeze would take long enough to kill him that I'd be nowhere near the body when he died."
"And being that you inherited nothing, no one would ever suspect you," I added.
"That's right." His grin faltered. "Until you came along."
Right in that moment, I really wished I hadn't.
"Me?" I squeaked out.
"Yes, you. With your pretense of condolences. As soon as you mentioned the police, I knew something was off. And then when I looked you up and found out you were married to a cop. Well…it didn't take a genius to figure out you suspected me."
Unfortunately, he was giving me a lot more credit than was due. I'd suspected his mother, but John had barely been on my radar.
"So you had me meet you for coffee the next day to find out what I knew?"
"That's right. And it turned out it was too much. So, I followed you. To lunch with that actress friend of yours and this nosy reporter." He kicked Tina's foot. She winced but didn't stop working at the tape holding my hands together as John went on. "And then as soon as I saw you go into the Beach Body Sculpt gym, I knew you were there to talk to Caitlyn. I was afraid she'd tell you about Chloe, and how Dog had cheated on her with my fiancée."
It dawned on me. "You tampered with my brakes!"
He nodded slowly, his eyes dark and void of emotion. "As soon as you went into the gym, I drove back to Legends, where I'd watched you leave your car. I nicked the brake line then covered the spot with chewing gum that I knew would dissolve as the engine got hot. The fluid wouldn't leak out until you were on the road."
"Why?" I breathed.
"You were simply getting too close."
My stomach turned over at his words. "You almost got me killed."
"It was supposed to be a warning." He was calm, unfazed by the idea he'd almost left my children motherless.
I tried to push down my own anger at that thought, instead wriggling my wrists, trying to break through the last little bits of tape holding them in place.
"Unfortunately you did not heed that warning," John said, taking a step closer to me and crouching down so he was at our level.
I froze and felt Tina go still.
I licked my lips. "I should have," I said, fully meaning it in that moment.
He nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving my face. "Yes. That would have been better. But instead you both showed up at the memorial today, asking more questions. Talking to Chloe." He shot me a pointed look.
"She never told me about her and Dog," I assured him. Not that it mattered now. Even if I'd been blindingly ignorant of John's motive to kill his father before, I knew too much now.
"It was only a matter of time," he said, almost a sad note in his voice. "You refused to leave it alone, and I knew that unless you stopped asking questions, it would come out." His eyes met mine. "Which is why now I have to stop you."
Cold fear lodged in my chest, making it hard to breathe. In contrast, I heard Tina's breath come out hard and fast beside me.
"Is that why you lured me here?" I asked, slowly moving my wrist back and forth, twisting left then right.
He chuckled. "Lured. You say that as if it were hard. I called this one at her paper with the promise of an exclusive interview if she met me here." He cocked his head toward Tina. "And I knew if I texted you from her phone, you'd come running."
I hated being so predictable. "Someone must have noticed us missing by now," I said, trying to appeal to his sense of reason. Assuming he had some left. "There's no way you'll get away with this."
"Oh, but I will," John insisted. "You see, there's something you don't know. My father was sleeping with Aunty Mae."
The lack of surprise must have been evident on my face, as he paused. "Oh. I see. You did know that." He shook his head. "See, I knew you knew too much."
"What does Mae have to do with this?" I asked.
"Well, she killed my father of course," he said, that creepy smile back. "A lover's spat led to her spiking his drink."
"You're going to frame her?" I asked. Honestly, Dana and I had had the same theory about her. I didn't think it was too farfetched to think he could pull it off.
"That's the plan," he said. "And when she found you two sneaking onto her set, trying to find evidence against her, she shot you both." He raised the gun so it was level with my head.
I heard Tina suck in a breath.
"After which," John went on, "she was so racked with guilt that she killed herself."
"You're going to kill Mae too?" I asked, horrified.
John smiled, that creepy dead-eyed thing again. "I already have. I filled her 'water bottle'"—he said, doing air quotes around the word as if he knew what she really put in there as well—"with the same stuff Dad drank. She's been guzzling it all evening."
Panic surged through me. "Antifreeze." He'd already killed one person. Another was slowly dying as we sat there. And as he leveled the gun at my head, I knew he'd have no qualms about adding Tina and me to that list.
"That's right." John stood back up, pointing the gun at my head. "You're way too clever. And now, you have to die."
I swallowed hard. I sucked in a deep breath.
It was now or never.
I lunged forward, ripping the last of the tape on my wrists away as I surged headfirst into his legs.
Surprise was on my side, even if brute strength was not. The full force of my body hit his legs, teetering him off balance until he fell backward with a thud. The gun went off, pinging against a copper pot in the rafters.
Tina screamed, and in a second, she was on top of us, her hands free as well, the potholder ripped from her mouth.
"You crazy, insane son of a—" Tina screamed, letting loose a whole host of words I couldn't say around my preschoolers. She rained a hail of blows down on John as I focused my entire body on prying the gun from his hand.
While there were two of us, he was bigger and stronger than either, and as soon as he got his bearings, he swung at Tina with his free hand.
His fist connected with her jaw with a sickening crack.
I heard her cry out, falling backward into the refrigerator.
Then he kicked out with his feet, one shiny loafer coming into contact with my midsection in a way that knocked the wind out of me. I crumpled in a heap as he easily tore from my grip.
He scrambled to his feet and took a couple of steps back from us.
I struggled to a standing position and bolted, running around the other side of the counter as quickly as I could. I heard another shot crack through the air, tufts of Aunty Mae's sofa flying like snow into the air beside me.
"Freeze!" John yelled.
I froze. I might have been able to surprise him, but there was no way I could outrun a bullet.
"Don't you dare take another step!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the empty sound stage.
I didn't, slowly turning to face him where I was.
I could see Tina had done some damage, blood trickling down one side of his head, but it wasn't so much that the gun didn't sit steady in his hands.
"Don't move!" he yelled again, shoving the pistol in my direction. "Don't you dare move or I'll shoot you."
I could have pointed out that he was going to shoot me anyway, but I figured maybe arguing wasn't the smartest move.
He took a step toward me, the gun in front of him, his nostrils flaring with the effort to control his breathing.
"Say goodbye," he growled.
I licked my lips, feeling time slow down, the entire world stopping until all that existed was me and that barrel of the menacing black gun.
My chest swelled with pain, my breath stopped, and even my heart seemed to slow to almost nothing.
Then it happe
ned.
A loud crack rang out.
I flinched, expecting to feel the rip of a bullet.
But instead I saw John's eyes flutter closed, his body slump forward, and the gun clatter to the floor.
I pulled my gaze from his prone figure to find Tina behind him, a hard look in her eyes and a triumphant grin on her face. And a large cast iron skillet in her hands.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
While Tina held the gun on the unconscious John, I called 9-1-1, and in what felt like seconds, security was swarming the sound stage, followed closely by EMTs, uniformed police officers, and several network execs and PR people, trying to contain the situation before the media got wind. Too bad for them, the media was already there. Even as EMTs were assessing Tina's injuries, her thumbs were furiously texting, sending Felix her story.
After looking me over, the paramedics decided I'd sustained only minor bumps and bruises, aside from the whack on the head, which had rendered me unconscious. That, they warned, could mean I had a concussion. I was going through my third round of politely refusing a trip to the ER, when a familiar face cut through the growing crowd in Aunty Mae's kitchen.
Ramirez.
I watched his dark eyes scan the room, the five o'clock shadow on his jaw pronounced at this hour. His gaze met mine, and he was at my side in seconds, arms wrapping around me in a tight hug.
"Thank God you're okay," he whispered.
I buried my face in his shoulder. Up until that moment, I'd thought I was okay, but seeing Ramirez in person made me realize how close I'd come to never laying eyes on him or my babies again. Tears trickled down my cheeks. "I'm fine," I lied.
His arms tightened. He knew what a terrible liar I was.
When I finally got myself under control, he pulled back, looking me over in a silent appraisal.
"Aunty Mae?" I asked. "Is she okay?" As soon as I'd told the 9-1-1 dispatcher that we had a confessed murderer at gunpoint, I'd told her to send someone to Aunty Mae on the neighboring sound stage as well.
Jeopardy in High Heels (High Heels Mysteries Book 12) Page 22
