“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Donna stomped to the porch, brought in her carry-on, and removed a pair of red underpants. Then stood over her bride from hell, dangling the panties.
“What’re you doing?” I asked.
“I was going to cram these in her mouth to shut her up. But I can’t.”
“Well, I sure can. Give them to me.” I crouched next to Michelle. “Open wide and say ahhh.”
“You’re not putting those in my mouth, bitch.” She spat at me, then clamped her mouth shut.
I wiped her spittle off my chin with the panties, then tickled her into submission, and stuffed them in her mouth.
“Donna, I might have to drive back to the freeway to get cell reception. Will you be okay?”
“I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again, but yes. I’ll be okay.”
I opened the door and was about to step out when she said, “Katy? Thank you for being a good neighbor to my aunt.”
I wasn’t comfortable leaving them, but what choice did I have? At least with a pair of granny panties jammed in her mouth, Michelle couldn’t sweet-talk Donna into untying her.
Stepping down off the porch, I flinched. My side ached where Michelle had kicked me. My chest was sore from her heel digging into my ribs, and my cheek throbbed. My car was just around the bend, and as I hustled to it, I monitored my phone for nonexistent bars.
The car’s interior was a sizzling sauna, but it felt good to sit my battered body on the hot leather seat. I got a shock when I glanced in the rearview mirror. My cheek was a bloody congealed mess, and my hair was a matted, sticky snarl. I touched the gunk and sniffed my fingers. SleepWell with a hefty hint of kerosene. I started the engine and drove towards the freeway, keeping one eye on the road and one on my phone.
Finally! One tiny bar! I stopped and the bar winked out. I rolled a little further and it was back. I stopped again and it was gone again. “Come on! What the hell century am I in? The twentieth?”
I floored the accelerator, causing my car to fishtail on the gravelly road and nose-dive into a ditch. I pounded on the steering wheel. “Can this shitty day get any shittier?” I put the car in reverse, spinning my back tires deeper in the loose dirt. “Dammit!” I climbed out and slammed the door.
Clutching my hands to my aching chest, I jogged towards the freeway. It hadn’t seemed far when following Donna and Michelle to the cabin, but now it felt like miles.
Finally! I had bars, and the signal looked strong. I pressed Angela Yaeger’s number praying she’d answer. It went to voicemail.
“Angela! It’s Katy McKenna. I’m in big trouble, and I don’t know what to do. Wait! Yes, I do! I’m dialing 911 right now.”
“Katy?”
“Angela! Thank God!”
“Try to calm down and tell me what’s going on.”
Calming down was not going to happen, but I managed to tell her what had happened.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“You know that last country road right before you hit the grade heading back to Santa Lucia? I can’t think of the name. I just saw it a while ago, and now I’m totally blank.”
“I know the road you’re talking about. Hold on a sec—let me look at a map. Does Granada Road ring a bell?”
“That’s it!”
“I’m heading to my car right now. An ambulance will be on its way, too. Hold tight, and we’ll get you, Katy.”
Even though I knew they would arrive before I could reach the cabin, I headed back, shifting between walking and trotting, with an occasional stop to hang my head over my knees and catch my breath. During my third panting break, I heard sirens in the distance. Moments later, they were in sight, and I waited to hitch a ride.
Angela drove the lead car with two squad cars behind her, an ambulance, and a fire truck in the rear. She jumped out and hustled me into the front seat, clucking like a Police Chief mother-hen. Back in the driver’s seat, she said, “Katy, you look awful. Your poor face.” She touched my head. “What’s this goo in your hair?”
“Mostly SleepWell syrup.”
“Of course.”
“I don’t think you’ll need all the backup. I have Michelle tied up good. No way is she going anywhere.”
“Police protocol, Katy. Tell me where to go.”
“Follow the road. I’ll tell you when to stop.”
We passed by Veronica. “We’ll get your car towed later,” she said.
I pointed through the windshield. “This is where I parked and continued on foot. We’re almost there. Just around the bend. There! In those trees. That’s where the cabin is.”
We parked. Angela rolled down the windows, then pulled out her gun.
“You don’t need that,” I said.
“Until I know the area is secure, I do.”
I opened the car door.
“No.” She set her hand on my arm, shaking her head. “I want you to stay put. Got that?”
“But—”
“That’s an order.”
The expression on her face shut me up. I closed the door, feeling relieved that everything was beyond my control now.
The cops quietly surrounded the cabin, guns pointed at the cottage. It was like watching a crime show, except this was for real. The EMTs were standing by until it was safe to enter the building. Once everyone was in place, Angela called, “Donna Baxter? I need you to come out, please.”
The door opened, and she poked her head out, looking terrified.
“It’s all right, Donna. No one is going to hurt you. We need you safely out here before we go in. Can your aunt walk?”
“No. She’ll need help.” Donna stepped onto the porch holding up her hands.
“You’re not under arrest,” said Angela.
Donna crumpled over, sobbing. “I didn’t mean to do it! I swear to God, I didn’t mean to do it.”
Friday, July 17th was a very long day and I can’t type another word. I’ll pick up where I left off tomorrow.
Chapter Forty-Four
Saturday • July 25
Posted by Katy McKenna
Still catching up!
Friday, July 17
Part Five
“Come down off the porch,” commanded Angela.
Donna struggled to her feet and then her knees buckled. Angela motioned two officers to assist her.
I had to know what was going on. I got out of the car and crouched behind it, surveying the scene. Then moved slowly towards the group, remaining far enough away not to annoy the chief, yet close enough to hear what was happening. Her eyes flicked in my direction. She frowned, but she didn’t order me back to the car.
The chief holstered her gun as the police officers guided Donna toward her.
“Chief?” yelled an officer from the cabin door. “You need to see this.”
Donna broke into choking sobs again. “I didn’t mean to do it. I swear to God, I didn’t mean to.”
Angela told a cop to stay with Donna. With another glance in my direction, she strode to the cabin. I held my breath as she stepped inside. All was quiet, save for Donna’s weeping. Several minutes ticked by, and then the chief yelled from the door, “Bring her in.”
Donna cried, “No. Please don’t make me go in there! Please, I’m begging you. It was an accident. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”
The officers that had helped her down the cabin steps steered her back to the cabin. No one was watching me, so I crept over to the side window and peered in. Nina was seated on the rocker, looking like she’d seen a ghost. Angela had draped the cardigan she’d been wearing over her shoulders. My gaze swept the gloomy room and landed on Michelle’s legs, still trussed up like a rodeo calf. I wondered why no one was untying her.
Is she dead? Did I suffocate her with the granny pants? Am I a murderer? My head tingled, and a wave of nausea engulfed me. I bent over trying not to heave.
“Katy?” Angela set her hand on my back. “Are you all right?”
I jumped, startled by the sou
nd of her voice behind me and the touch of her hand. I turned to face her. “I didn’t mean to do it. I swear.” I felt faint, and squatted, hanging my head. “I feel like I’m going to pass out.”
“You’re probably dehydrated,” she said, then yelled, “I need water here.”
An EMT dashed over with a cold bottle of water.
Angela uncapped it. “Here. Drink. It’ll make you feel better.”
I remained hunkered over as I drank half the bottle. Within seconds, the faintness passed, and I stood. “Thank you. I guess it’s been hours since I had any water.”
“We need to talk about what happened in there,” she said.
“Well, um, I tied her up and—” I sucked in some air. “Do I need a lawyer?”
Angela cocked an eyebrow. “I don’t know. Do you?” She watched Donna being escorted out of the cabin in handcuffs. “We’re all going to the station now. We’ll need your statement, Katy.”
At that moment, the EMTs were carrying Nina down the cabin steps on a gurney. “Hold on, Angela.” I dashed over to check on my friend and was assured by the first responders that she was doing well.
“Her vitals are all within normal range. We’re taking her to the hospital now where she will get a thorough evaluation.”
Nina smiled at me, and I squeezed her hand. “I’ll check in on you as soon as I can.”
I didn’t ride to the station with Angela. Instead, I rode with two young male cops. I wasn’t under arrest or treated like a criminal by the amiable officers; however, sitting in the rock-hard molded gray plastic backseat in the squad car sure made me feel like a felon. When I went on a police ride-along a while back, Sergeant Crowley told me the seats are like that for easy cleaning and disinfecting. The drunks often vomit. Some perps deliberately defecate and then smear the feces on the seat. Knowing that, I kept my hands primly folded on my lap.
They escorted me to an interrogation room at the station and left me there with a chilled bottle of water. I watch enough crime shows to know the police often collect DNA from cups and water bottles. Since I’m not a criminal, I didn’t fret about it, and I needed more hydration.
Glancing at the one-way window, I wondered if anyone was observing me. Finally, Angela walked in. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting, Katy.” She handed me a Baby Ruth candy bar. “I thought you might need some sugar.”
“Thank you. I do, but first, I desperately need to pee.”
“You know where it is. I’ll wait here.”
Clenching my pelvis muscles, I scurried down the hall praying I’d make it. I did. Barely. While sitting on the toilet, my ankle vibrated a few times. I’d forgotten that I had on my FitTrim. Confetti was flying across its tiny screen. I had hit 10,000 steps!
Returning to the interrogation room, I found Angela sitting at the table with Lieutenant Joann Yee. The attractive, raven-haired woman stood and gave me a quick embrace. “Good to see you again, Katy. Although I wish it was under different circumstances.”
“Yes,” said Angela. “Trouble seems to have a way of finding our Katy.”
I sat down, unwrapped the candy bar, and took a bite. “Mmm, so good. I haven’t had a Baby Ruth since I was a kid. This brings back happy memories. It was my grandpa’s favorite candy bar.” I glanced around the room. “Are we doing an official interrogation? I ask, because this is an interrogation room, right?”
“It is,” said Angela. “Although, we use it for other things, too. It’s a quiet place to talk—hopefully with no interruptions. When you called for help, you gave me a brief rundown of the events. Now we need a concise timeline. Everything you can recall.”
Joann pushed a small digital recorder towards me. Then set a legal pad on the table.
Angela’s hand hovered over the recorder, prepared to switch it on. “Are you ready?”
“Hold on. I have a question that I hope you’ll answer.”
She folded her hands on the green laminate-topped table. “All right.”
“Back at the cabin, Donna screamed, I didn’t mean to do it. When I saw you crouched beside Michelle, I couldn’t see her face.”
She cocked her head. “You mean when you were watching through the window instead of staying in the car like I told you to do?”
“Yes. I know I wasn’t supposed to be there, but…is she all right?”
Angela shook her head. “No, she is not. I assumed you knew. She’s dead.”
“I wasn’t sure.” It scared me to ask my next question because I didn’t want to find out that I caused her death. “How did she die, if I may ask?”
“You may. There was a pair of red panties—”
My hands slapped the table. “I swear. I didn’t mean to do it! You have to believe me.”
Angela’s brows shot up. “I didn’t think you had. Now you’re saying you did?”
“Do I need a lawyer?”
“Let’s back up a moment, Katy, and get on the same page. Tell me exactly what you did that you didn’t mean to do.”
I stared at the recorder, still not on. Was I about to crucify myself? I needed to measure my words carefully. I took a swig of water and cleared my throat. Angela turned on the damned recorder.
“I was the one who gagged Michelle with the panties. She was screaming awful, vile things. Donna was basically in shock, and Nina had already been through so much, so I…” I paused when she grinned. “What?”
“She wasn’t gagged with the panties. She was strangled.”
“With the panties,” added Joann with a smirk.
“Oh, thank God.” I blew out a relieved breath. “I mean, I’m not thankful she’s dead, but I’m thankful that I didn’t do it. When I left, Michelle was fine. Tied up and gagged, but totally fine.” Then it hit me. “Are you saying Donna killed her? Because it sure wasn’t Nina.”
“It appears that way. Let’s begin at the beginning. Why did you follow them to the cabin?”
We began the arduous task of documenting the hours leading up to me going for help. I was reasonably sure of the timeline since I had listened to their conversation the night before. Michelle said they should leave at ten-thirty to get to City Hall by ten-forty-five, making them fifteen minutes early for their appointment. Luckily, I didn’t let it leak that I’d overheard that conversation with an illegal listening device. However, I had to have a reason why I would have followed them.
“I was outside this morning puttering in the yard when I saw them stowing suitcases in their car. Like for a trip, or something.”
“How did you see that if you were in your yard? They’re two doors down.”
“All right. You got me. I’ve been keeping a close eye on them. You know, for Nina’s sake.”
“Like when you crawled through the dog door, right?” said the chief.
Joann giggled. “That photo of you is so funny.”
“I guess I’ll never live that down. I swear I haven’t been in Nina’s house uninvited since.” Yes, I fibbed. “But I had a feeling they knew where she was. It turns out one of them did.”
I paused for a bite of candy. “Anyway, I was curious where they would go at a time like this—all dressed up. I mean, taking a vacation when your aunt is missing? Who does that?” I unscrewed the cap from my water bottle and chugged a few swallows. “I heard Donna say, ‘Do we have everything?’ and then Michelle says, ‘Everything except the bride-to-be.’ That’s when I realized that they were getting married. So I followed them to city hall. I remember seeing the time on the dashboard clock after we parked in the lot. A little before ten-forty-five.”
I continued to detail the day’s events with occasional questions from Angela and Joann. Finally, we were back to me getting into Angela’s car on Granada Road.
“So you think Donna strangled Michelle?” I said.
“We’re collecting evidence at this time,” said Yee.
“Oh, come on! On the porch, Donna yelled that she didn’t mean to do it. If not her, then it was either me or Nina.”
Angela gl
anced pointedly at Joann, then said to me, “Of course, Nina didn’t do it.”
“So am I under suspicion?”
She gazed at me long enough to make me squirm in my seat. “No. Because of you, we found Nina Lowen alive.”
“You mean, I found her alive.”
She nodded, looking irked. “Yes, Katy. That’s what I meant.
“Am I free to go?”
“Of course. Now go home. Have a good dinner, put your feet up, and relax. You earned it.”
We all stood. Angela hugged me and thanked me again. I took my water bottle with me. Better safe than sorry, I always say.
Chapter Forty-Five
Saturday • July 25
Posted by Katy McKenna
Friday, July 17
Part Six
Lieutenant Yee gave me a ride home. Driving down my street, we saw my man-crazy neighbor, Maddie, jogging slow-mo past Simon’s home in an outrageously low-cut red spandex jogging suit. Her boobs bounced in perfect tempo with each step. The bare midriff top showed off her tanned, tight abs, and I swear the bottoms had a padded derrière because I didn’t remember her packing a curvy Kim Kardashian fanny before.
“Wow,” said Joann. “She looks like she just stepped out of one of those housewives shows.”
I glanced at her. “That’s Maddie, my new neighbor. She’s hoping that my other new neighbor is looking out his upstairs window.”
We stopped in front of my house.
“Is he a hottie?” asked Joann.
“Depends on your definition of hottie. He’s a techie gazillionaire from New York, so that may be her definition.”
“Living in this neighborhood? No offense, but this is middle-class suburbia. Shouldn’t he be living in a castle somewhere?”
“Simon is working on a project that would enable us commoners to live off the grid right here in suburbia.”
While She Slumbered: The Murder Blog Mysteries #5 Page 21
