But I didn’t see Mrs. Mac. I was just about to turn around go back to my seat, assuming that I’d missed her back in the audience, when a sound caught my attention. Frowning, I looked toward the far corner on the other side of the closet, where one of the shadows . . . moved.
“Mrs. Mac? Is that you, honey? C’mon, don’t hide back here.” I walked over slowly, giving her a few seconds to compose herself. “It wasn’t . . . well, it wasn’t as bad as you’re thinking. Please don’t be upset.”
As my vision adjusted to the lack of light, I realized that there were actually two figures in the corner. One was taller and clothed in a long black gown and some kind of cape with a hood that obscured her face. I thought, as I stepped closer, that she was comforting Mrs. Mac, whom I could recognize thanks to the silver sequins of her gown.
But then I got a better look at the situation and saw to my horror that the taller woman had her gloved hands around Mrs. Mac’s throat. Mrs. Mac was trying to pull away the attacker’s fingers, but her swats were ineffectual, and her eyes were rolling back into her head.
With a cry that was half-yelp, half-scream, I threw myself at both of them. The woman trying to kill Mrs. Mac was solid, and I staggered backward a little before I launched my second assault.
“Get away!” It was not a woman’s voice that growled at me. “I’ll take care of you in a minute. I don’t have time for any more stubborn meddling bitches. I’m going to have this contract, and I’m going to drive all of you out, one way or the other.”
She—he?—shook me loose and turned his attention back to Mrs. Mac, who’d begun to sag alarmingly. I screamed once more and tackled him, clawing for the cape, for his hands—anything to buy us some time.
“Get the hell off!” Suddenly and out of nowhere, Charlie was next to me, her arms around the killer’s neck, her legs hooked at his waist in a bizarre imitation of a piggy back. Smart girl that she was, her fingers were on his face, covering his eyes and tearing at his skin.
And then Nichelle was alongside me, too, pulling Mrs. Mac toward her, and Lucas shoved the man in the long black dress against the wall before he yanked off the hood and punched him in the mouth with a wicked right hook.
As the hood fell away, I gasped. Augustus Row sagged against the wall, blood pouring from his mouth even as his eyes still blazed.
“Fucking bitches.” He snarled the words at us, ignoring Lucas who was still pinning him into the wall. “You made me do it. You made me do it all. I didn’t want to kill anyway. But then those bitches wouldn’t play nice. They wouldn’t just sign on the dotted line, agree to sell their houses like they should’ve. No, they had to get stubborn. They wouldn’t play ball. But I want that contract. I have to have it. So if they wouldn’t go easy, they had to go hard. And I’m not too good to get my hands dirty to take care of business.”
Nichelle was on her cell, calling for the police and for the ambulance. Mrs. Mac was on the floor, but to my immense relief, she was sitting up, blinking at us even as she clutched at her throat.
“He wanted my house.” Her voice was hoarse, and she coughed, trying to clear it. “I wouldn’t let him sell it for me, and so he . . . I was back here after my number, and I thought he was another contestant. One of our bigger boned gals. Then the next thing I knew, he had me back here and he was squeezing my neck, just squeezing until I couldn’t breathe.”
Charlie knelt next to Mrs. Mac. “Shhh. It’s okay. We took care of the son of a bitch.” She glared at Augustus.
“The contract is mine.” Row struggled to get away from Lucas, hissing the words. “It’s my gravy train. He promised me a cut on each house I listed. And I want them all. All!”
“I think he’s lost it.” Lucas shook his head. “Do you know what he’s talking about?”
“I’m not sure.” I frowned. “He got a lot of people at Golden Rays to list their homes with him. Maybe he was on the take from someone else.” I glanced at Augustus, but apparently he’d decided to dummy up about then, because he only narrowed his eyes at me and snapped shut his mouth.
“Oh, my goodness, what happened? What’s going on?” The small backstage area was suddenly crowded with the other contestants and the pageant officials, along with some of the audience members. Even the judges were peering in at us.
Before any of us could explain, the police pushed into the room, making way for the paramedics who rolled in a gurney and began examining Mrs. Mac. I heard Nichelle telling a few people what had happened, but she was interrupted by a wail from Mrs. Mac.
“I can’t go to the hospital!” She was still husky-voiced, and I could see bruises begin to blossom on her throat. “The pageant isn’t over. I’ll miss being crowned. I can’t do it. Let me stay. I’ll go to the hospital after I’ve heard my name announced and put on my sash.”
There were several moments of tense silence. I spotted two of the judges conferring with the head of the pageant, and then to my surprise, several of the contestants joined the whispered conversation.
The EMTs were still trying to convince Mrs. Mac to let them examine her when one of the judges raised her voice, clearing her throat.
“Ahem!” She waved her hand, trying to quiet everyone in the room. “Please. I think I can make this easier.” The room fell silent again, and all eyes turned to the judge.
“After conferring with my fellow pageant judges, we’ve made our decision and we’re prepared to announce it a little early. This year Ms. Florida Senior Living Queen is . . .” She paused for dramatic effect, her gaze circling the room.
“Anna MacConnelly!”
For one dizzy moment, I thought to myself, who is Anna MacConnelly? And then I understood, as glad relief and gratitude swelled in my heart. Nichelle clapped her hands and whistled, and if I wasn’t mistaken, I thought I spied the sheen of tears in Charlie’s eyes.
The paramedics helped Mrs. Mac onto the gurney, supporting her on either side as last year’s queen approached. She bent over and kissed Mrs. Mac’s pale cheek, draped a bright yellow sash over her shoulder and bestowed a small rhinestone tiara onto her head.
Mrs. Mac beamed, waved to her adoring public and allowed the medics to help her lift her feet up onto the stretcher. I knelt beside her and gave her a gentle hug.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Mac! I’m so proud of you.”
She smiled at me and patted my cheek. “Well, dear, it was very kind of them to make the announcement as they did.”
I squeezed her hand. “Oh, I think they just knew who most deserved the title.”
She raised her eyebrows and regarded me in full queen mode. “Of course they did. After my song, I don’t think there could be any question.” She lowered her voice and murmured to me, “Frankly, Jackie, I was more surprised they didn’t just give me the crown at the end of my performance. But I supposed that they needed to be gracious to the less-talented ladies. I was saying as much to the woman who was backstage with me—well, the one who turned out not to be a woman at all, of course—when she—uh, he—started choking me. I’ll be honest; for a minute, I really did think the murderer was a disgruntled contestant who was willing to do anything to win.”
“Oh,” I managed faintly. “Well, all’s well that ends well, right?”
“Very true.” She allowed the EMTs to cover her with the sheet and secure her to the gurney. “Watch the crown, please. And can you make sure I’m registered at the hospital as Ms. Florida Senior Living Queen Anna MacConnelly? I don’t want anyone to forget who I am.”
I swallowed back a sigh. It was going to be a long year.
“NEVER A DULL moment around here, is there?” Charlie poured hot water from the kettle over tea leaves into a cup. “I never knew how boring my life was until I came to live with all of you.”
I managed a half-smile. “Yeah, sometimes it feels that way. But I promise, this murder thing isn’t a regular occurrence.”
“Oh, really?” Charlie narrowed her eyes at me. “Mrs. Mac said you and Lucas were involved in the mur
ders around some local singer. She said you got stabbed.”
Wincing, I nodded. “That was . . . just something that happened. And may I point out that this time, it was Mrs. Mac who was the killer’s target?”
“True.” She set the teacup on a wooden tray and added a small plate of cookies that she’d made earlier in the day. “Still . . .” She fiddled with the napkin on the edge of the saucer. “I wanted to talk to you about something, but then everything got crazy with the pageant and then the attempted murder and Mrs. Mac being in the hospital.”
Pulling out a chair, I sat down. “I have a minute now. What’s up? Everything okay?”
“I hope so.” Charlie sat down, too. “I was thinking about the Stinker. I did some research into what it would take for me to run it, or even what would be involved if I wanted to add a restaurant to the existing business. I have the numbers and the information.”
“Is that what you want to do?” I was careful to keep a neutral voice. I didn’t want my needs to influence Charlie’s final decision.
She shrugged. “I wasn’t sure. But the more I think about it, the more I think . . . no. I don’t want to be tied down to a business like a bar or a restaurant. I don’t want to live upstairs and know that I’m never really getting away from work. I don’t want to be tied down to a menu that’s determined by what my regulars demand instead of what I want to cook.”
“I can understand that.” I nodded. “So what is that you do want to do?”
She took a deep breath. “I was thinking that maybe I’d sell the bar. Reg owed a little on it, but not as much as I’d thought. I’d make a decent profit. And then I thought maybe . . . I’d invest that money into our business. Our catering business.”
Surprise struck me silent. This was really the last thing I’d expected to hear. “Our catering business? I didn’t know we had one.”
“We don’t yet. But if you wanted a partner, I’d like to buy in. I’d bring not only talent and hard work, but some capital. I know I’m young, and I know I’m bossy, but I think we could work well together.” She finally met my eyes, and in hers, I saw uncertainty, vulnerability and . . . hope. She was reaching out, taking a chance, and I held the power to encourage her or to knock her down again.
Impulsively, I reached over to grab her hand. “Charlie, that’s about the most exciting idea I’ve heard in a long time. I want to talk to Lucas, but I know he’ll be all for it, too. And just for your information, even if you didn’t bring any money into this deal, I’d still be all for it.”
A smile spread over her face. “Cool.” She didn’t pull her hand away from me, and I counted that as growth. “One more thing. I was wondering if it would be okay for me to move back in with you after Mrs. Mac’s better.” She hurried to add, “I mean, I love her and all, and she’s awesome, but I think she needs her space. She told me the other day that she likes privacy when her, uh, gentlemen friends come over for a visit.” Charlie’s face went pink.
“Of course you can.” I paused. “Actually, I’d like that. There’s something we should talk about, as it relates to both business and our living situation.” I hoped Charlie would take what I had to say as easily as Nichelle had. “At some point in the not-too-distant future, Lucas and I are probably going to have to go away for a little while. It’s related to his, um, other work. I don’t know when we’ll go, and I don’t even know for sure how long we’ll be gone. But it would make me feel much better if I knew you were here to take care of our houses and Makani, and to watch out for Mrs. Mac.”
Charlie frowned. “Where are you going?”
I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you. To be honest, I don’t even know at this point. I only know that it’s coming.”
“Are you guys, like, spies or something? Undercover agents?”
“Something like that, I guess, but not precisely.”
“But you are coming back, right? You’re not going to just disappear forever?” There was a small thread of panic in Charlie’s voice, and my heart almost broke. This girl had been left by her parents of their own free will and by her two surrogate parents when they had died. She was taking a big chance in trusting virtual strangers like Lucas and me. She was opening up to us as well as to Mrs. Mac and Nichelle. The possibility that something might happen that would prevent me from coming home was untenable.
“I have every intention of coming back, Charlie. I promise you. If by some quirk of fate I can’t, please know it will not be because I didn’t want to return. Count on the fact that if I don’t come home, I’m dead.”
She snorted. “That’s not exactly comforting, Jackie.”
I laughed. “Sorry. I tend toward dark humor. But I do mean it. I happen to love my life, Charlie. And that includes all of it—Mrs. Mac, all of our neighbors here . . . and you. Lucas and I will be back, or we’ll die trying.”
“I’m going to hold you to that.” She stood up and lifted the tray. “I’ll take this to the Queen, and then I’m going to start a batch of tortilla soup. The chicken broth in it will be good for her throat.” Hands full, she nodded toward the window. “Looks like your company is here.”
I glanced back over my shoulder to where Rafe and Nell were climbing out of the Impala. Behind them, Cathryn slid from behind the wheel of her powder blue Thunderbird. She looked as impeccable and unflappable as ever, with her white-blonde hair pinned up and her shirt swirling around her knees. But then she hesitated, turning to look behind her, and I wondered if she was nervous about this meeting.
“That’s the ice queen, huh?” Charlie peered out the window. “She’s pretty, but she doesn’t look like Lucas’s type. I wouldn’t let her get to you.”
I forced a smile, suddenly regretting that I’d spilled my guts to Charlie regarding Lucas and Cathryn’s past involvement. I couldn’t exactly warn Charlie that Cathryn could hear her thoughts, but I didn’t like Cathryn knowing that she still bothered me sometimes.
“Oh, she doesn’t get to me,” I fibbed. “She’s just his boss now. Our boss, that is. And our friend, of course.” I decided I’d be better to redirect her attention than to protest too much. “Can I trust you to keep Mrs. Mac company, or are you going to be hanging out the window, drooling over Rafe?”
Charlie sighed. “Mrs. Mac and I will be fine. We might talk about Rafe, and we might drool over him from the safety of this house, but I promise that I won’t embarrass you or myself.”
“Thanks.” With a quick wave, I went outside and headed for Lucas’s house, crossing my own yard and climbing the steps to his back deck. My stomach clenched; this was no ordinary meeting. It wasn’t a social occasion, certainly. Today, Cathryn was going to meet Veronica for the first time. But even beyond the family reunion, she’d told us over the phone, in her typical cryptic fashion, that she had urgent information for all of us.
Cathryn had tried to convince us to drive up to Carruthers for this meeting, but I wasn’t ready to leave Mrs. Mac yet. Lucas had sided with me, and Veronica had also indicated that she preferred to meet Cathryn on neutral ground. Apparently, Lucas’s home qualified as such.
“Hey.” My boyfriend met me at his door, pulling me into a tight hug. “They’re in the living room. Cathryn’s so tense, she’s practically thrumming, and Veronica isn’t here yet. Nell is just sitting there, looking bored, and Rafe is trying to act like everything is normal.”
“So . . . same old, same old, huh?” I tiptoed to kiss his cheek. “It’ll be fine. Cathryn is too intent on winning this battle to let anything like emotions get in the way. But you have to think that the idea of meeting your ancestor from almost four hundred years ago is a little weird. Add into it the fact that said grandmother is also a vampire, and you’ve crossed out of weird into downright bizarre.”
“Yeah, I get that. We’ll get through it.” He opened the refrigerator and began pulling out bottles of beer. “But I figured we might get through it better with some alcohol.”
“Good idea.” I leaned in to take a few fr
om his hands and caught sight of a pile of blood bags sitting on a shelf. “Lucas.”
“Hmmm?” He closed the door and turned toward the doorway.
“When did you get a delivery from Nichelle?”
Lucas frowned. “Uh, day before yesterday. She brought me a cooler before we went to the pageant that morning. Why?”
I sucked in my bottom lip. “You usually get three bags. There are like five in there right now.”
He closed his eyes and sighed. “Yeah, I know. I had to up my order. I was going through three in a day, and it made me a little anxious that I was going to run out, so I talked to Nichelle and asked her to arrange for more.”
“Oh.” I’d thought I was accustomed to my boyfriend drinking blood, and usually I was, but the idea that his need was increasing made me uneasy. “Aren’t you worried about why you need more? Doesn’t that make you wonder why?”
He shifted one bottle of beer to the other hand and opened a drawer to retrieve an opener. “It did, but I talked to Veronica. She said there could be several reasons. One is that I’m beginning to accept the idea that I’m a vampire. Or a half-vamp, whatever you want to call me.” He popped off the top of one bottle of beer and then the other. “The other possibility is that I need to build my strength for the coming battle. That may be why I need to drink more from you, too.”
My face went hot. I was pretty open with Rafe and Nell about most things, and it was hard to keep a secret from Cathryn, with her ability to hear my thoughts, but I’d never discussed with them what went on between Lucas and me during sex. I wasn’t ashamed of the fact that he drank from me when we were intimate, but it was . . . ours. And if I were going to be ashamed of anything, it might be that I actually enjoyed it.
“Did you tell Veronica about that?” I hissed. “About . . . us?”
Death Over Easy Page 12
