by Angie Cabot
“Sun’s out,” Sandra said. “Snow’s melting. We should be able to go by this afternoon.”
“So we have until then to figure out who killed Aunt Liz and Todd.”
“All I know is I’m not going to poke my nose into anyone else’s business. That said, if you don’t figure out who the murderer is, I’m not going to work tomorrow.”
“I fired Morgan,” I said.
Sandra started to say something, then bit her lips. “She’s the killer?”
“I don’t think so, but she got physical with me, and I won’t tolerate that.”
“Note to self: don’t hit Kathy or you’ll lose your job. Got it.” She gave me a thumbs up.
“Seems like one of those things that should go without saying, but these days, everything needs to be said or someone will take advantage.”
I finished my toast.
“Why do people kill each other?” Sandra asked.
“You’re the writer. Don’t people get killed in your books?”
“Love and power are the normal motivators in my books. Take over the galaxy, and get with the Han Solo types.”
“Solo types? As in guys who want to be alone?”
“Until the right woman comes along. We all believe we can change men. You were married for a long time, right?”
“I was raising kids.”
“I didn’t know you had kids.”
“Michael and Susie. Michael is in the Air Force. Susie just graduated from college and got a job in Orlando, Florida. They never write, they never call.”
“Like all kids when they grow up. If not for the kids, would you have left sooner?”
“I’d like to say yes, but I don’t know. Derek had a way of charming me. He knew which buttons to push to get me to forgive him.”
“Until he didn’t,” Sandra said. “I was married once. We lasted all of three months, and that only because I had to save some money to get out.”
“You don’t seem that spontaneous,” I said.
“I was almost thirty, and had been on three dates. When James showed an interest, I was willing to overlook all of his faults to avoid being an old maid, or a crazy cat lady.”
“Nothing wrong with crazy cat ladies,” I said.
And as if on cue, Nico sauntered into the kitchen. She brushed up against my leg, then leaped onto the counter.
“Depends on the cats, I suppose,” Sandra said. “Better company than James. That’s for sure.”
“So you got divorced and moved to Cassandra Springs?”
“Actually, James got the marriage annulled.”
“On what grounds?” I asked.
“He said I wasn’t sound of mind, and the judge bought it.”
“You don’t seem mentally ill to me.”
“I told the judge I was psychic. James told me I couldn’t be a very good psychic because I should have seen that the marriage wasn’t going to work. I didn’t argue, but after that, I did go out and get a job as a psychic so the last laugh should have been mine.” She grinned for a moment, then frowned. “But Elizabeth told me I was a better bookkeeper than a psychic.”
“And the world keeps spinning. Did you happen to hear Morgan when she went downstairs last night?”
“No. I didn’t wake up until that loud crashing noise. I guess Todd wasn’t much of a psychic either. Sorry. Not sorry.”
“Did you know Morgan doesn’t actually do drugs?”
Sandra laughed. “Good one. That girl may not be able to go toe-to-toe with a rock star, but she’s always wasted.”
“You’ve seen her partake?”
“Of course. Your aunt did, too. She told Morgan to lay off the drugs or go get another job. You knew this. We talked about it yesterday. Cash shortages and such.”
“But she told me a few minutes ago that she was faking.”
“That’s not to say she doesn’t fake being stoned, too. Normally, it’s to get out of doing work.”
Morgan entered the kitchen, startling us. “You little gossips like to talk trash behind my back,” she said. “How about to my face?”
“Do you walk on air?” I asked.
“I like to activate my stealth mode so I can sneak around to hear what people say about me.”
I took a deep breath, and refused to back down. “I think you’re a liar, and I’m glad I activated my manager mode and fired you.”
“You’re lucky I’m not the killer,” Morgan said.
“Or maybe she is the killer, but she’s holding back on more killing,” Sandra said.
Morgan stepped up to Sandra, who tried to retreat.
“You should be glad I’m not a killer, too, Sandra. You think you’re so special sitting back there in your little cubbyhole thinking no one knows about you and Todd.”
“Shut up,” Sandra said. “That was a year ago, and it doesn’t count. We kissed. That’s all.”
“I’m not the one you need to convince. Diana is the one you need to worry about. Maybe Zen.”
Sandra tried to slip away, but Morgan grabbed her and pushed her back into the counter.
I grabbed Morgan’s shoulder. “Back off,” I said, pulling her away.
Morgan spun and tried to slap me. I managed to block it, but I fell to the floor.
Nico growled, leaped from the counter onto Morgan’s back, and dug in her claws.
Morgan cried out and tried to reach back for Nico, but the cat was way ahead of her. Nico launched herself back onto the counter, and rolled onto her back, exposing her belly.
“Stupid cat!” Morgan reached for Nico, but when the cat attacked her with all four paws, Morgan jerked her hand back.
Nico growled as if to say, want some more? Bring it on.
Morgan didn’t want anymore. She didn’t bring it on. Instead, she cradled her hand, and looked at the scratches, which looked white, but soon began to well up red.
Morgan stormed from the room.
“Good kitty,” I said. “That’s a good Nico.”
She rolled onto her feet and resumed eating as if nothing had happened.
Cats.
I turned to Sandra. “You only kissed?”
“No,” she said. “But I wasn’t going to tell Morgan it went further.”
“I don’t think she cares. She likes Carl.”
“Really?” Sandra said. “Why?”
“He’s her type, I guess.”
Sandra shrugged. “We all have our types. And we’re all destined for heartbreak at some point.”
“No doubt,” I said. “I don’t want a man right now. I just want coffee.”
Sandra brightened. “Oh, coffee sounds good.”
“I’ll put on a pot.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sandra and I sipped coffee in the drawing room. I kept looking down at the chalk outline where Todd had fallen and died. I no longer thought of him as Balthazar, which was the only good thing I could take from the murder.
We sat on the sofa, so we didn’t have a view of the foyer from our vantage point. Sandra kept looking over at the entrance to the drawing room.
“Nervous?” I asked.
“A little. I think Morgan is the killer. She may have told you she liked Carl, but maybe she liked Todd instead.”
“And then killed him? That doesn’t make sense.”
She sipped her coffee. “If she couldn’t have him, no one could.”
“You’re a writer,” I said. “You can do better than … what did you call it? That old chestnut.”
“It’s a classic because it’s often true,” she said. “It feels fresher when aliens and spaceship captains are involved.”
Carl wandered into the drawing room. “Have either of you seen Zen?” he asked.
“She was in her room last time I saw her,” I said.
“Thanks,” he said, and left.
Sandra shook her head. “You sure it’s smart to tell him where she is? What if he’s the killer?”
“He’s in love with her,” I said.
<
br /> “And what did we just talk about?”
“Aliens and spaceship captains.”
“Before that.”
“I know, I know. But I talked to Carl for a while yesterday, and while he’s a bit obsessed, I get the impression he’s harmless.”
“It’s always the harmless ones,” Sandra said.
Nico entered the room, and hopped on my lap.
“I thought it was always the quiet ones,” I said. I scratched Nico behind the ears and under the chin. She purred.
“I’m the quietest person here,” Sandra said. “That would make me the most likely suspect.”
“What was on the page of the journal you ate?” I asked.
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me,” I said. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll assume it’s worth killing over.”
“It’s just embarrassing,” Sandra said.
“Come clean.”
She stared into her cup. “Fine. Zen held a special solstice celebration at Liz and Clara’s house. I got there late, and everyone was in the backyard. It was dark, and as it was a Wiccan celebration, I thought we were supposed to go skyclad, so I took off my clothes before I went outside. I was so embarrassed.”
“I think you’re in the clear,” I said, trying to keep from laughing.
Carl came back into the room. “She’s not in her room,” he said. “Did she come by?”
“Not that we saw,” Sandra said.
“She must be smoking. Okay, thanks.”
He left again, and I heard the closet door open. I got up, and moved to see him put on his coat. The front door opened, and a moment later it closed. I went back to the sofa.
“And the hunt is on,” Sandra said.
“He probably thinks he can comfort her.”
“If he’s the killer—”
“I thought you said you believed Morgan was the killer,” I said.
“I do, but if I’m wrong, and Carl is the killer, when Zen rejects him—because we all know she’s going to reject him—he might kill her, too.”
Diana entered the drawing room.
“Grand Central Station here,” Sandra said.
I turned to look at Diana, who stared at the chalk outline.
“Is there anything we can do to help you, Diana?” I asked, trying to be supportive.
She looked over at us as if she only just realized we were there. Her eyes were puffy. “Is Zen around?” she asked.
“She’s popular today,” Sandra said. “And every day, come to think of it.”
“Haven’t seen her,” I said. “She might be out smoking.”
“That coffee smells good,” Diana said. “Is there any left?”
“In the kitchen,” I said. “I just made a fresh pot.”
“Thank you,” she said.
Nico hopped off my lap and followed her.
“Diana,” I called, “if Nico tells you she hasn’t been fed, she’s lying.”
“Got it,” Diana called back.
Sandra and I resumed our conversation, but ten minutes later, she excused herself to use the restroom.
I needed a refill on my coffee, so I headed for the kitchen.
As I approached the kitchen, I heard Nico meowing. But she wasn’t in the kitchen. It sounded distant. The back door was closed, and Nico sounded like she was on the other side of it.
I walked over and opened the back door. Nico darted in from the cold.
“What were you doing outside?” I asked.
Nico meowed.
“Diana let you out?”
Another meow, and she brushed against my leg, and went back to the door, putting her front paws on the jamb, then dropping down to look back at me.
“You were just outside.”
She meowed again, more urgent.
“Fine,” I said, and opened the door.
Nico looked outside, then up at me.
“Go on, Nico. I don’t have all day.”
She backed away from the door, circled behind me and nudged me toward it.
“You want me to go outside, too?” I asked.
Nico meowed, and went outside.
“It’s cold out there.”
Nico kept meowing.
“All right, all right,” I said, and went outside.
Nico led me to the snowdrift where Aunt Liz and Todd lay dead and exposed to the elements.
Nico hopped onto Todd’s back, turned and meowed again.
And I knew why she was meowing at me.
The athame that killed Todd was no longer in his back.
Diana.
She’d tried to pin the blame on Todd. Aunt Liz said someone had been following her, but it wasn’t Todd. It was Diana. She knew Aunt Liz bought the athames because she saw her. Then she bought one to bring with her, but was stupid enough to leave it on the bathroom counter, not expecting us to go through their room.
Nico meowed, snapping me out of it.
Diana was going to kill Zen.
I had to stop her.
I raced back into the mansion with Nico hot on my heels. I slid to a stop in the foyer, and cut through the library to the game room. The balls from my game with Carl were still on the table. I grabbed the nine ball, and hurried down the hall, and outside onto the patio.
No one there.
I stepped off the patio, and trudged through the snow back to the drive. No one out front.
And then I heard Zen scream.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I tried to run through the snow, but it was too deep for that, and I fell face-first. I pushed myself to my feet, brushed snow from my face, off my shirt, and pants. Some of the snow went down my shirt and I winced from the cold.
The scream came from around the side of the building, so I trudged forward as fast as I could without falling, one hand waving wildly, the other clutching the nine ball.
I moved past the cars. The Jeep’s passenger door stood open, and the glovebox was ajar. I didn’t need to go closer to know that at least one of the athames had been removed.
The walkway had been shoveled, but that meant there were ridges on either side that stood three feet tall. I rolled over the first, and landed on my feet, but misjudged it and fell against the other ridge. I rolled over that one, too, and slid to my butt in the snow. Some of the snow went down my pants, and I gave a, “Whoo! That’s cold,” before clambering to my feet. I hit the path Todd and I had made to where the athame cases had been thrown night before last, and rounded the side of the building.
Zen and Carl fought with Diana, who wielded an athame.
Zen was on her knees in the snow. Carl had hold of Diana’s arms. She tried to angle the blade to cut him, but he shoved her backward. She fell to the ground, and nearly disappeared as she sank into the blanket of white.
“No more killing!” I yelled as I fought my way toward them.
Diana scrambled to her feet while Carl helped Zen up. But Zen pushed him away from her, and he fell to the ground.
Why did she push him?
He got up again, and brushed himself off.
“I’m trying to help you,” he said.
“Then why do you have a knife?”
I didn’t see a knife in either of his hands.
Diana looked around, then reached down to pluck her athame from the snow.
Carl pointed at Diana. “She’s the killer!”
“But you have a knife, too!”
“Get away from her, Carl,” Diana said.
The sun shining off the snow was blinding, and I had to shield my eyes, but I kept moving closer.
“That goes double for you,” Carl said. “Leave her alone!”
“I’m not after her,” Diana said. “You killed my Todd, so I’m going to kill you!”
Carl gestured wildly, arms flailing. “I didn’t kill anybody!”
Diana rushed at him, swinging the athame. Carl leaped to the side, rolled in the snow, then crawled toward the mansion. He came up a moment later with an at
hame in his hand.
I stopped to catch my breath, bending forward, palm on one knee, nine ball resting against the other.
Who was the actual killer?
They faced each other, circling in the snow.
Zen took advantage of their distraction to get as far away from them as she could. She kept going, which was good.
I sucked in as much oxygen as I could, and cursed the high altitude, and being out of shape. But working out was too much like exercise.
Diana took a swipe at Carl, but he jumped back out of the path of the blade.
“Cut it out,” he said, which seemed like a poor choice of words when dealing with someone wielding a knife.
Maybe they could kill each other while I fought for breath. Then I could call out to Zen and have her join me for a cup of coffee inside where it was warm.
My hands hurt from the cold, and I shivered when a gust of wind kicked up. I brushed hair from my face, shook my head, and put one foot in front of the other moving toward Diana and Carl.
As I moved, I ran everything through my head. I had to know which was the murderer.
If Carl did it, he would have killed Todd for being with Zen, but Todd had been seeing Zen for a while. Why snap now? And why kill Aunt Liz? Sure, he was worried about his job, but he could get another job, and killing her only guaranteed that he wouldn’t get to be with Zen.
Assuming he got caught.
And of course he’d get caught. He wasn’t stupid, but he was also too obvious. Besides, Aunt Liz felt like one of the employees was following her, and the only person Carl was following was Zen.
Carl and Diana faced off, but neither moved. The way they leaned on their knees, they were tired, too.
Diana, on the other hand, could have killed Aunt Liz thinking they were going to lose their jobs anyway, but that still didn’t make sense to me. But she had to have been following Aunt Liz because she didn’t even hesitate when I said there were eight knives.
It didn’t quite feel right. Maybe she was better at math than I was.
But killing Todd made perfect sense from what she’d told me. If they were massively in debt and he wouldn’t consider bankruptcy, she could kill him, declare chapter seven, and leave all the debt behind. She could pin the murder on Carl for the same reason she wanted to kill Todd. The affair with Zen.
