Twice Layered Murder

by Daphne DeWitt

  But I had to admit, standing there staring at Daniel as he told me that his engagement to Chloe wasn’t real, I was more than a little confused.

  “Are you telling me it was a con?” I asked, grabbing for the first theory that came to mind. It made sense. Chloe Covington had been rich even before the television show. It would only make sense that guys would want to get with her for the money. There might even be some who would take it as far as to propose marriage.

  It was surprising that it took this long, really.

  “Sort of, but not in the way you’re thinking,” Daniel answered, literally gulping like some scared cartoon character as he continued.

  “And, what am I thinking?” I asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Debra said from beside him, still begging him to keep the truth hidden. “You don’t owe anybody anything, least of all some cake maker.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” I answered. “Everyone is owed the truth, especially if that someone is the person you plan to marry.” I nodded justly at her. “Also, pies are more my forte. The cake thing was kind of a one-off, but that’s neither here nor there.”

  “Would the both of you stop?” Daniel blurted out. “I’ve been holding this inside too long. I don’t care who’s owed what and I certainly don’t care about your dessert preference.” He nearly shook with emotion now. “Things were never supposed to go like this. I just wanted to help. I never imagined it would end up this way.”

  “Tell me what happened,” I said, trying to sound as calm and ‘on his side’ as possible. It was another trick my dad taught me. “Then you can tell me what you did with Chloe.”

  “I didn’t do anything with Chloe!” he said, unable to stop the shaking now. “I would never hurt her.”

  “Really? Because, from where I’m standing, you’re trying to bilk her family out of half-million dollars. The leap to physical harm doesn’t seem like a far one.” I pointed at him all accusatory.

  “It wasn’t like that. I was never after her money.” Daniel shook his head. “I’m a doctor. I do just fine. What I did, I did for her.”

  “You pretended to be interested in Chloe for her?” I asked, obviously not buying it. “Yeah. You’re gonna have to explain that to me.”

  “It’s because of that beast of a father she has,” Debra muttered through a set jaw.

  “Deb, just let me do it,” Daniel snapped, blinking hard. “Her father isn’t that bad. He’s just from a different generation. He expects certain things from his daughter, especially given that it’s his only daughter.”

  “Her father?” I asked curiously. While it was true that Mr. Covington struck me as a pompous blowhard who thought he was way smarter than he actually was, I couldn’t imagine what he’d have to do with his daughter’s engagement. Even if, as Daniel was so keen on pointing out, Chloe was his only child.

  “Chloe’s parents were married right out of high school. Her grandparents were married right out of high school. I think her great grandparents were married while they were still in high school. And they all popped out babies like they were being paid to do it.” Daniel shook his head. “If Chloe’s mom hadn’t died giving birth to her, who knows how many kids they’d have ended up having.”

  “But they didn’t,” Debra said. “And that’s always chapped her idiot father’s lips.”

  “Because she’s an only child?” I asked, settling in for what I knew was going to be a wild ride.

  “You have to understand, to people like this, family is everything,” Daniel said.

  “They don’t have a monopoly on that,” I answered.

  “True, but it’s not the same,” he retorted. “These rich people, these old families, they go back for generations. They love their kids, they do. But that’s not all. They’re sort of their property. Their kids are bragging rights. This one is a doctor. That one is a lawyer. This one heads up a multimillion-dollar conglomerate. And more than that, they’re numerous.” He shook his head again. “Their families stretch out all over the country. And they’re insurance. They’re something you’ve built, something to leave everything you’ve built to.”

  “Except for the Covingtons,” I said.

  “One kid,” he answered. “And, to make matters worse, her father was an only child, too. He had a brother that died when they were kids but, for all intents and purposes-”

  “The family was down to two people,” Debra finished. “Chloe and her father.”

  “I know this doesn’t make sense to you, but he wanted her to settle down.” Daniel looked at me. “As quickly as possible.”

  Didn’t make sense to me? My dad nearly jumped out of his chair when he found out I was marrying Aiden. He had already picked out a catcher’s mitt for his future grandson. Of course, it made sense to me.

  “He was putting a lot of pressure on her to find someone,” Daniel said. “It was only a matter of time before he pressed the issue.”

  “So you stepped up?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

  “He was my ex-boyfriend,” Debra said. “We were together through most of high school. I knew he was a good guy. I figured maybe they would hit it off.”

  “But that’s not the where my heart went,” he said, looking over at Debra with a look in his eyes that reminded me way too much of the way Aiden used to look at me, at the way he looked at Peggy now. There was love there, real love.

  “I told her the truth about my feelings for Deb as soon as I was sure. We had only been going out for a month or so, and we both knew we weren’t a match like that. So, it wasn’t a big deal. But when Chloe told her father about our breakup, he lost it.” Daniel turned back to me. “He had taken a liking to me, even though I wasn’t one of Chloe’s rich kid counterparts. When he found out that it was over between us, he decided he would take matters into his own hands. Chloe said that he was going to set her up with one of his friend’s son, a real snoozer. If that didn’t work out, he’d move on to another, and then another. It would be an endless parade of people she didn’t care about.”

  “So you thought faking a relationship would solve the issue?” I asked.

  “It wasn’t perfect,” Daniel admitted. “But it would buy her some time. Maybe she’d find someone she actually loved and, if she didn’t, she’d have earned enough money from the television show that she wouldn’t be dependent on her dad anymore.” He shrugged. “So we pretended to get back together. I kept dating Debra, and Chloe and I played our parts. She was the snobby, rude socialite that everyone watching the Real Southern Debutantes wanted her to be, and I was her put-upon boyfriend.”

  “What about this wedding?” I asked. “This seems like an unnecessary fold if you’re just planning on faking it.”

  “It wasn’t my idea,” Daniel said. “It was the stupid show. The ratings were dropping. Things were getting stale. Chloe came to me one day with tears in her eyes. She said the producers came to her and told her that if we didn’t get married, she was off the show.”

  “So, just like that, you decided to defile a sacrament?” I spit.

  “No,” Daniel answered weakly. “I told her I wouldn’t do it, that it had gone too far. I didn’t love her, and I wasn’t going to waste a walk down the aisle with a woman I knew I wasn’t meant to be with.”

  “So what changed?” I asked.

  “I did,” Debra said. “Chloe had to spend a lot of money keeping up appearances. If she got put off the show, she’d never save enough money to get away from her father. She’s my best friend. If a wedding was what it took to save her life, then that’s what she was getting. Even if it was with my boyfriend.”

  “It was never going to be real,” Daniel answered quickly. “The pastor we brought in is an actor. You can check his resume if you don’t believe me.” He sighed heavily. “And that’s the truth. Priscilla caught Debra and I making out a few days ago and wrote that letter to me. I gave it to Chloe and asked her to take care of things. She obviously didn’t because
when I saw her this morning, she slapped me across the face. Her fake nails left a pretty unsightly gash.” He pointed out the scratch on his face.

  “Daniel, you-”

  “That’s the truth, Rita,” he said, cutting me off. “You have to believe me. When she went missing this morning, I figured she decided she couldn’t go through with it. I thought she’d decided to finally break free of her dad and strike out on her own. I was happy for her. Until I saw that tape.”

  “And Priscilla?” I asked.

  “I don’t know anything about that, not any of it,” he said. “I’m just a guy trying to help somebody out.”

  “Lies don’t help anyone, Daniel. Regardless of how well-intentioned they might be,” I said, though I had to bite my lip a little. I was, after all, pretending to be someone I wasn’t. I was, in essence, lying to everyone in my life.

  However, when your dog’s the mayor, and you’re being jerked around by an irritatingly vague spirit guide who may or may not be your guardian angel, you’re exempt from things like that.

  “You have to tell the truth, Daniel,” I said.

  “I can’t do that,” he answered. “It would destroy her. It would ruin her reputation.”

  “But it might save her life,” I answered. “If the police know what her mindset was, then they’ll know what to look for. It might open something else up.” I shook my head. “Like it or not, it’s our best shot until we come up with another lead.”

  A loud, ragged scream rang through the air.

  My body went rigid. I spun in the direction of the noise.

  It was a woman’s voice. That much I could tell for sure.

  Squinting, I watched a figure run toward us. The woman tripped, fell, and then got back up.

  She was harried, pouring sweat, and obviously scared, but what was she running from.

  “Help,” she screamed again, bringing the people from inside the common area out onto the lawn.

  As she neared, the breath caught in my throat, and my heart sped up.

  It was her. Priscilla was rushing toward us, her dress torn, her lip bloodied.

  “Help me! You have to save me!”

  “What under the Southern skies is going on?” Sheriff Black asked, pushing past me toward Priscilla.

  She collided with him, falling into his arms.

  “Are you alright ma’am,” Sheriff Black asked, holding her steady. “Where were you? What do you know about what happened to you?”

  “I was kidnapped,” Priscilla said breathlessly. “I was taken to a dark room and threatened. I thought she was going to kill me.”

  “She?” Sheriff Black asked. “Did you see the person who held you captive?”

  Yes,” she said and pointed a finger in the crowd’s direction.

  In my direction.

  “It was her. I was kidnapped by Rita Redoux.”

  20

  “What did you just say?” I asked, sure that I had heard wrong.

  I did, right? I had to have heard wrong. Otherwise, that would mean that Priscilla had just fingered me as the person responsible for her kidnapping.

  Sheriff Black spun around, his jaws jiggling with the motion, and pulled a pistol from the holster on his hip.

  Screams peppered the crowd as they saw the gun, but it wasn’t for any of them. He pointed the metal barrel right at me.

  “Freeze,” he said, his finger dangerously close to the trigger.

  “Sheriff Black,” I said, trying to implement all the things my father always told me about staying calm in intense situations. I lifted my hands, palms toward him and kept my voice low and steady. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I assure you that I had no part in kidnapping anyone, Priscilla included.”

  He eyed me up and down, but I knew better than to think I was getting through to him. He didn’t want Darrin or I involved in any of this from the start. I was an outsider in this place, one of the only outsiders in what was absolutely a closely guarded event. I wouldn’t have much standing here, and certainly not enough to disprove witness testimony on the fly.

  “Get down on the ground,” he said.

  “That won’t be necessary,” I answered. “Though I’ve done nothing wrong, I’ll come with you willingly. There’s no need for the gu—”

  “Put it down!” Darrin’s voice rang out like a school bell ringing at just the right time. Looking over, I cringed because I knew exactly what I was going to find.

  Sheriff Darrin Dash stood, gun drawn and pointed at Sheriff Black.

  Now, the entire place erupted into controlled chaos.

  The muffled shouts now grew louder and, though the crowd didn’t disperse, they did back up a few feet, leaving myself, Darrin, and Sheriff Black out in the middle.

  It was sort of like one of those old-fashioned standoffs you see in Westerns, except there were no cool hats and I was pretty sure I was going to die.

  …again.

  “Darrin, this is unnecessary,” I said tersely, watching the guns glisten in the sunlight like awful, matching time bombs. Unless I stopped it, they would go off right on top of me.

  “Tell it to the man holding you at gunpoint,” he answered.

  “This is a dangerous criminal, son,” Sheriff Black answered. “Though I don’t expect you to recognize that. Given the fact that you probably spend your days patrolling rowdy PTA meetings, I’ll forgive you your backwater ignorance.”

  “I’m from Washington D.C. and, as far as backwater towns, I didn’t see ignorance until I came here,” Darrin answered, gun still in the air. “And don’t call me son.”

  “Darrin, this is just a misunderstanding. Don’t make this situation any more combustible than it already is,” I answered, my hands still in the air.

  “If there’s a misunderstanding severe enough to put you in the line of fire, I’d say it’s already pretty combustible.”

  Looking around, I saw that other officers had joined Sheriff Black. His men were all around us, guns pointed-not at me- but at Darrin. We were surrounded.

  “It was a gut reaction,” I said, cutting my eyes over at Darrin. “A bad one, but a gut reaction, nonetheless.”

  “A gut reaction to what?” he asked, stubbornly keeping his gun pointed at the opposing sheriff.

  “To Priscilla. She’s back, and she’s under the impression that I was the one who kidnapped her.”

  “What?” he asked, almost jerking with surprise.

  “That was my reaction,” I answered. “But you can see why Sheriff Black acted the way he did.”

  “Actually, he’s jumping the gun to an almost criminal degree,” Darrin said.

  “Oh, do you always have to be so difficult?!” I shouted. “You know he has to question me now. It’s pretty standard. You’d do the same thing. Now let’s both do what we know has to be done. Put the gun down, let Sheriff Black here question me, and then we can get to the bottom of this.”

  “Just questioning?” Darrin asked, looking hard at Sheriff Black.

  “Until I find enough evidence to throw her in a jail cell,” he answered.

  “Which you won’t, because I didn’t do anything,” I answered.

  “You shut your mouth!” Sheriff Black yelled at me.

  “You shut your mouth,” Darrin said, but he holstered his gun, giving Sheriff Black reason to do the same. “You don’t have to answer anything without a lawyer present,” Darrin looked at me, eyes full of concern.

  “But I will,” I said. “Because I don’t have anything to hide.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Sheriff Black said, as two of his men took either of my arms and directed me into the club.

  Looking back, I watched Darrin watch me being pulled away.

  I mouthed, “I’m fine,” but he didn’t react.

  The anger on his face was palpable. This would not end well.

  I was moved into a small room off the dining area, past the hall of portraits where Debra and I talked the first time. The officers who had my arms released
me and, without even looking in my direction, shut the door.

  The room I found myself in was obviously meant to house servants because it lacked all of the ornate decorations that dotted every other visible portion of the club.

  Where the other walls were striking shades of gold, red, black, and blue, the walls of this room were a flat and uninteresting white. What little furniture it had was obviously hand me downs, and the bed was a double with a thin brown comfort atop it.

  And that was it. No paintings on the wall, no television in the corner. There wasn’t even a window to look out of. If Sheriff Black’s intention was to make me feel locked away, then he had found the right room for it.

  Ten minutes passed, and then twenty.

  Any other person in this situation- being falsely fingered for a kidnapping and held by the police in a cramped little room- would very likely be losing their minds. But not me.

  I was no ordinary baker.

  I grew up with this sort of thing, and I knew exactly what was going on. Sheriff Black was at this moment asking Priscilla questions in a soothing voice. She was probably in another bedroom-likely one of the family’s- with a trusted friend whose hand gripped her tightly.

  She was being treated with the soft kid gloves that officers were taught to treat victims with. And that was cool, since she was a victim.

  …probably.

  The truth was, Priscilla’s accusation had thrown everything into question. I had been on a straight shot, getting to the truth of Chloe’s ruse of a relationship, and trying to use that information to find out who kidnapped her.

  But Priscilla gave me that information and, right about now, I was wondering if all of it had been to put me on a wild goose chase and leave myself open to what was happening right now.

  It didn’t matter.

  I shook my head. This situation was bad, maybe the worst I had ever been in if you don’t count that time I broke my neck and died on a particularly dangerous set of Second Springs steps.

  I couldn’t fight back then, but I could now. And the only weapon in my arsenal was the truth.