A shocked look on his face, Zach clutched the back of Mile’s computer chair. “That’s her. I remember…definitely Cat.”
“Definitely not ‘Cat!’ But it’s our girl.” Zora scribbled down the address. “Miles, you’ve been a great help. Thanks much, my friend.”
“Anytime. Just don’t forget to call me.” He pantomimed using a phone. “Let me know the rest of the details and when I can punch the publish button.”
“Will do. Let’s go, Zach.”
Again, Zach offered his hand.
Miles said, “Dude, I’m not gonna touch that. I don’t know where it’s been!”
“Ain’t that the livin’ truth,” said Zora.
*
In the hallway, Zach said, “Zor, this is the best news we’ve had all day.”
“Don’t get your hopes up yet, brother. But, yeah…it might be our first break.” She smiled, letting her brother bask in a bit of victory. Even if it might be a bit premature. Zora’d learned the hard way, it ain’t over ‘til the bad guys are in jail.
“Weird friends you got, though.”
“Oh, really? Says the guy who’s sleeping with plastic old ladies and letting their chauffer watch.”
“Uncool! I didn’t sleep with her. And the driver didn’t watch… I think.”
“‘You think’…whatever…you can’t even remember, let alone think.”
Outside, dusk had fallen, painting the neighborhood an even deeper shade of danger. A car sat parked behind Zora’s minivan. Very close, bumper to bumper close. A black Caddy.
Behind them, a fallen leaf snapped on the sidewalk. Zora turned, her hand grasping for the gun in her purse.
Tall, gruesome and silver materialized out of the building’s shadows. His hand snagged Zora’s wrist. Wrenched her purse away. Grinned as he commandeered her pistol. “Ah, ah, ah…let’s play nice now.”
Zach ran at the chauffer, growling. Dennis tossed the purse at Zora, freeing one of his hands. He stepped back, lifted the gun. Steadied it. Closed one eye and aimed the gun at Zach.
Click.
A click Zora’d been on the receiving end of more than once, one she didn’t particularly care for. And one that meant they couldn’t overpower the driver.
Zach stood in place, bouncing. Fists lifted and curled up.
“Don’t, Zach. Stop. You can’t beat a bullet.”
Zach lowered his fists, but kept shuffling his feet.
“That’s a sensible girl,” said Dennis. He jutted out a chiseled chin toward Zach. “Maybe your idiot brother should take a clue from you.”
“I’m not an idiot…”
“Now, I’m sick and tired of chasing your asses all over Kansas City. Caught up with you at the courthouse, been following you ever since. You’re coming with me now. No more bullshit!”
Zora righted her purse, strapped it over her shoulder, and said, “So…you gonna kill us now?”
Another grin. A not very comforting shrug. “I’m taking you to see Ms. Darkly.”
“That’s what you want? Well, hell…” Zora walked toward the Caddy, rapped her knuckles on the roof. “That’s where we’re going, too. Save me some gas money. Go on…take us to your leader.”
Clearly confused about who to plug first, Dennis swung the gun between the siblings. “Fine. Here, pretty boy.” He tossed his car keys toward Zach. “You’re driving.”
“Cool! Always wanted to get behind the wheels of a Caddy.”
The chauffer settled the gun on Zora. “You! Big Momma…in the back seat with me.”
Okay, now he’s pissed me off.
Huffing, Zora fell into the backseat. Trying not to go all ninja on the bad guy’s ass.
He called me Big Momma! No one talks to a pregnant woman that way. Gun or not.
Head lowered, Dennis slid in next to her. Still unable to sit up straight because of his height. Zora smiled, imagining him driving with his head stuck up through the sun-roof.
“Okay, pretty boy, take us to 35-South. Then go to—”
“We have the address,” said Zora. “We know where we’re going.”
“Good. Then everyone shut up and let’s go. Don’t try anything or I’ll put a hole in you.” The way he said it, Zora didn’t doubt it. He marveled over the gun, admiring it with a greedy smile, anxious to put it to use.
Zach edged out into traffic. Singing. The damned EZ Brite theme song.
“Quiet,” ordered the chauffer.
“So…tell me, Dennis…is that your real name, Dennis?” asked Zora. “What do you and your boss lady intend on doing to us?”
“Not for me to say.”
“How long’ve you been saddled up with Ms. Darkly? She pay good money? To, you know, kill people and stuff?” Part nerves, part strategy to put the thug off-guard, Zora couldn’t shut up even if she wanted to. “Is that part of a chauffer’s job these days? ‘Must have good driving skills, silver hair, look like a German weight-lifter. Murderous intent a plus!’”
“Shut up.”
“Really…I mean, are good driving jobs so hard to find these days, Dennis?”
“I said, shut up!” The gun tapped Zora’s belly. Another thing she’d make the chauffer regret. “Don’t make me tell you again! I want it quiet!”
Zora had lots more she wanted to say. But you didn’t argue at the end of a gun barrel.
Thirty minutes later, after a few quietly stated directions from Dennis, they arrived at their destination. Zora hoped it wouldn’t be their final destination.
Turlington had ponied up some serious cash for his mistress’s digs. Nestled out in the woods of the southernmost part of Kansas City, the house loomed large, three stories worth. Skeletons of other houses had gone up in the distance, not yet inhabited. Completely isolated. Perfect for a Senator’s secret love-nest. And a perfect killing grounds.
Zach turned off the ignition. “Now what?”
“Give me the keys.” Dennis caught the tossed keys, shoved them into his pocket. “Now get out. Don’t try anything. Or Big Momma and her baby gets it.”
Strike three, he’s out!
“Please don’t shoot her,” said Zach as he scooted out, hands in the air.
“Well, what’re you waiting for? Get out.” Another gun gesture. Big man with a weapon.
Zora dug into her purse. Hummed a bit.
“What’re you doing now?”
“A woman’s gotta look her best when she calls on a stranger. Particularly one who wants to kill her.”
Dennis hesitated, obviously perplexed by the world of cosmetics. “Just make it fast.”
Stupid. So stupid. It’s almost too easy.
Her hand in her purse, Zora gripped the vial. Flipped the cap off.
“Oh, one more thing, Dennis…”
Dennis sighed, a thug of few words.
“Never, ever, ever call me ‘Big Momma’ again!” She dropped the purse the same time the pepper spray came up.
Tsssssss…
A nice, long dose to the eyes.
Dennis screamed. Not having a good day. His hands went up, so did the gun.
Crack.
Runch.
A bullet punctured the roof. Smoke rose from the barrel. While the chauffer writhed in agony, Zora grabbed the gun.
Zach hunched over by her door, panic in his eyes. “Sis! You okay!”
“Better than Dennis.” She gave him an extra squirt, one to remember her by. Zach helped her out. She leaned back in, said, “Dennis, I hope you’ve learned your lesson. Treat pregnant women with respect. Everyone has a mother. I suspect even you. Unless you were created in a laboratory…which isn’t such a far-fetched idea the more I think about it.”
Damn, this feels great! Too bad baby-on-board doesn’t agree.
“What’re you laughing at, Zor?” Zach held onto her, rushing her away from the car. Like she needed help, a fragile pregnant woman.
“Get your hands off me. Fully capable woman here.”
“Pregnant woman.”
&n
bsp; “Don’t even go there with me, Zach! Now, come on…we gotta hurry. I’m sure your hooker heard the gunshot and is waiting for us.”
Dennis was still shrieking, rocking the Caddy on its tires. But now he was winding down into a child’s calming moan. They didn’t have long.
On the doorstep, Zora held the gun high and hoped like hell she wouldn’t have to try and shoot the lock off the door. Or God forbid, kick it open. The doorknob twisted easily in her hand, though. Quietly, the door swung open. It felt wrong, the door being unlocked. The trusting faith of country living or a trap?
“Sis, we can’t just…go in the house,” Zach whispered.
“Really, Zach? Really? All the other crimes we’ve committed today, a little B&E isn’t gonna hurt us.”
He looked puzzled, trying to work out what the letters stood for.
“Come on. Let’s go.”
Gun cocked and ready, Zora lead them inside. Bright lights emanated from every room. Ms. Darkly didn’t live up to her name.
They tiptoed through the foyer, down a hallway. Into a large living room. Ms. Darkly sat on a loveseat, a posed statue, one leg crossed over the other. Unmoving. Except for the gun in her hand. That she gave a little wiggle to.
“Well, come on in then,” she said. “Gun against gun. Are you going to risk it, Ms. LeFevre?”
“Willing to gamble if you are.”
“I’m positive I can take out one of you, maybe both.”
“Let’s bet.”
“Um, sis—”
“Or…I lower my gun. You lower yours,” said Darkly.
“Ladies first.”
Darkly smiled. Tried to at least. Maybe it was a grimace, Zora couldn’t be sure, not with all of the woman’s emotion-obscuring plastic work. The gun loosened in Darkly’s grip, swung around a dainty finger. Then she placed it in her lap. “There. Friends now?”
Zora lowered her weapon. Tried to tuck it into her waistline. No going, not with baby occupying most of the space. She kept it down by her hip, ready to use it with a finger on the trigger. “Hardly friends. Why don’t you tell me why you killed the Senator? Why you tried to frame my brother?”
Long lashes flipped up. Darkly’s mouth formed a puzzled “oh.” “Why, Ms. LeFevre…that’s what I wanted to ask you! Why your brother killed the late, not-so-great, Senator Turlington.”
“I’m right here, you know,” said Zach. “And I didn’t kill—”
“Quiet, Zach! What’re you talking about, Darkly?”
“Oh, my. It seems like we have quite a bit to catch up on. Please…be seated.” She unleashed a waving roll of her hand toward a sofa. At least it didn’t have plastic on it like Miles’ furniture. Zora figured Darkly used up her plastic allowance on her face.
Zora sat, Zach reluctantly so.
“Now…where’s Dennis? What have you done to him this time?” Darkly looked out into the hallway, squinting through awning length lashes.
“I’m sure he’ll be along shortly. I just gave him a little incentive to stop insulting me.”
“I see…you really need to stop doing things to my driver. You’ve wrecked my car—”
“He wrecked it.”
“…you hit him with baby excrement, knocked him out, flattened my tire…and now this?”
“Cry me a river, lady! What about everything you’ve done?”
She cawed at the ceiling. “Me? Fine. Let’s start over…I’m Selena Darkly.” Her hand went out, waiting for them to kiss it or something. Zach and Zora stayed put.
“Doubtful that’s even your name, lady.”
“Not important right now.”
“How about you start by telling us what is important? Before I perforate your pretty, plastic face.”
She frowned, her cheekbones staying high. “So hurtful. Very well then…I had an affair with Hal.”
“Shocker.”
“Ms. LeFevere, I’m trying my best to be civil. I would expect you to show me the same courtesy.”
“Yeah, ‘cause murder and slipping people roofies is so very civil.”
“Regardless…our affair went on for quite some time. Hal was good to me, bought me this house, hired Dennis for me. But…a few weeks ago, he said he was ending our relationship. That he’d found a younger girl.” She dabbed at crocodile tears. “Said he was going to take back the house…like I never meant anything to him.”
Yeah, because a fancy house for a slutty mistress is what love’s all about.
“Too bad, so sad, Darkly. Still no reason to kill the guy.”
“But I didn’t! Honestly…we thought Zach did.”
“Again, not a killer. Not even gay or a—”
“How ‘bout you tell me what happened after the Senator showed up to your sleazy hotel room?”
“Well, Zach, the dear boy…” Darkly gave him a warm smile. Zora couldn’t believe he returned it. “…he’d apparently had too much to drink. And he passed out.”
“Not true.”
“A difference in perspective. I’d called Hal earlier, told him to meet me at the room downtown. That I had something important to tell him, something that couldn’t wait. And since Zach…the dear boy…was passed out, I thought I’d take advantage of the situation. I had Dennis drug Hal. Drag him into bed next to Zach.”
“Ah, I think you have it wrong, Selena,” offered Zach. “I think you might’ve accidentally, I dunno, roofied me or something?”
“No, Zach…we know she did,” said Zora. “What happened next, Darkly?”
“Dennis took me home, leaving the two sleeping beauties slumbering away. Then I called several reporters. The police. Anonymously, of course.”
“Of course,” said Zora, proudly riding a sneer. “And that’s it?”
“That’s it. Next thing I know the media’s all abuzz about Hal’s…tragic death. So, Zach…tell me…” She leaned forward, fingertips poised on her crossed legs. Showing them off to elicit a confession out of Zora’s brother. Knowing him, Zora thought he might fall for it, too. “Why did you kill the Senator?”
“I didn’t, dammit!”
The front door banged open. Loud footsteps thundered down the hall. Dennis stood, breathing hard, sweatier than a politician at a hearing. “Ms. Darkly, you want me to take out the trash?” Through red eyes, he glared at Zora.
Selena swatted a hand. “No, not yet, Dennis. I don’t have what I want yet.”
And I bet that’s all she ever gets. What she wants.
“Just stay right there for now. You’ll know when I need you.”
“Ma’am.” Dennis tipped his head her direction.
“Well, Zach,” continued Darkly, “if you didn’t kill Hal…who did?”
“That’s what we’d like to know.” Zora tried to stand, couldn’t quite make it. The baby tugged her back into the upholstery. She tried to cover up her set-back by speaking faster. “Let’s just say you’re telling the truth—which I kinda think you’re not cause everything out of your mouth is as phony as your face—” Darkly’s lips actually moved, wrinkling together at Zora’s insult. “Let’s say you drugged my brother, had it in your mind all along to do so. To put the Senator into a bind, one he couldn’t get out of. Framed in a gay love-nest.”
Zach sighed, but for once didn’t defend his so-called honor.
“For now, let’s just go with that,” continued Zora. “But why didn’t you just come forward with the truth? Talk to the media about your sordid little tryst. That would’ve been enough to ruin the Senator’s political ambitions. Not to mention his marriage. And his affair with his newer, younger, improved model. Why the elaborate gay frame-up?”
“Because I’m not that kind of girl, Ms. LeFevre!”
“Ah, correction…not a girl at all. More like a woman who—”
“Let’s not get nasty. I have a reputation to uphold, after all. A career that’s just starting to take off. It—”
“What? As a porn star?”
“Hardly.” She hissed, poisonous as a snake. “But
you have the latter part right. I’m an up and coming actress. Hal set me up with a few of the right people. He—”
“Oh. You been in anything I might’ve seen, ma’am?” Zach sat up, no longer appearing bored.
“Maybe you’ve seen me in The Scattering, Part 3? No? Perhaps you saw me in—”
“For God’s sake, Zach! You want her autograph, too?”
He shrugged. “Depends on what she’s been in, I guess.”
“You’re cute, Zach.” Darkly leaned back, raised her crossed leg a little higher. Absolutely no shame. “I knew there was a reason I picked you.”
Zach smiled. Just too much for Zora. With a one-two-three roll of her arms, she levied herself out of the sofa. “Get a room, why don’t you, Zach? No, wait! You already did! And look how that turned out!”
With a hangdog look, Zach blended in with the sofa. “Oh, yeah.”
“I swear!” Zora paced the room, getting into full-on detective mode. “Darkly, you just admitted you ‘picked’ Zach. He was a part of your plan all along. You roofied him.”
Darkly gave her head a little tilt. Shared a small smile, big on smarminess. And said nothing.
“So, Darkly…when you left the hotel room, did you lock it behind you?”
“No, of course not. I wanted the police, the media, everyone to see Hal in all his glory.”
“Even if what you’re saying is true—and again, you haven’t exactly proven yourself high on the trustworthy scale—why’d you kill your detective? Martin?”
Selena’s crossed leg lifted. Her foot tromped down on the floor like a horse’s hoof. “Detective? What detective?”
Zora thought she looked, sounded, absolutely surprised. And she knew Darkly couldn’t be that good of an actress.
“You didn’t hire a detective?”
“No. Why in Heaven’s name would I do that? To implicate myself?” Another guffaw aimed at the ceiling.
Then who in hell hired Martin? Who killed him?
“You didn’t kill him?”
“We’re not killers, Ms. LeFevere.” She included Dennis in her game show hostess wave.
“No, just abductors, conspirators, exploiters, druggers—is that a word?—flesh-peddlers…am I leaving anything off your list? Never mind!” Zora paced, arms behind her back. Quite a stretch in her condition. “The phone.”
Bad Day in a Banana Hammock Page 11
