by Karen Ranney
"That's like the target being proud it caught the arrow," he said, his laughter a little insulting.
My name had been in the paper, but since they couldn't photograph me in my hospital room, they went back through the society pages and found one from the Chrysanthemum Ball, cropping Tom out of the picture entirely.
I was very grateful that the national news was more important yesterday and that there wasn't anything on television about me. But the caption in the paper read - Local Woman Defends Self With Cane - which, of course, made it sound like I was eighty.
Thankfully, my mother hadn't learned of my exploits. No doubt she was still punishing me for hanging up on her.
My heroes were no worse for their adventure. If anything, both Army and Frank looked damn spry. I wondered if they would have a special Murder Club meeting just to bask in the glory. Heck, I'd be one of the baskers.
The two men went to the kitchen, bearing the plants and flowers people had sent me in the hospital. Nothing like getting shot to elicit a little sympathy. Several of the bouquets had been sent from members of the Murder Club, and I was touched by their kindness.
I stood in the quiet of my house, listening. Other than the sounds Army and Frank made, no ghosts spoke to me. Nothing rattled or groaned or popped. It was too silent, as if all the laughter, tears, and life in the house had left.
Slowly, I took the steps to the second floor, gripping the banister hard with my right hand to make up for the inability to use my left. But the nurses had signed my sling, so I looked popular, if nothing else.
I opened the door to Barbara's room and went straight to her dresser, burrowing beneath the underwear in the top left hand drawer. I found it just as I'd suspected. I hadn't seen the case since before she died. She said she'd gotten rid of it, but I knew that wasn't true. I hadn't wanted to verify it until now.
Do you believe everything people tell you?
Yes, I had, once. I swear, Mom, I don't know whose it is. I'm clean, Mom. I've been clean for weeks. I wonder if I would ever believe anyone again.
I unzipped the case. When I'd first seen what was inside, I was ignorant. Now, I'm not.
The spoon fell out, and I bent to the carpet to pick it up. The needles weren't capped; two of them looked unused. Heroine had to be cooked to liquefy, and the process wasn't a fast one. An addict had to plan on his high, on gathering together all the paraphernalia he needed. A belt, a spoon, a needle, the heroin. It was all here.
I carefully zipped everything back into the case. I'd give it to Talbot, and he could dispose of it the way the cops did. Evidently, I was still ignorant, because I didn't know how they got rid of heroin. I'll bet they didn't flush it down the toilet, though.
I tucked the case into my sling.
The pain of losing Barbara was so deep and so wide it would be with me forever. But I could build a scaffold over the hole in my heart and find some way to live with it.
And I wanted to live.
My fight with Maude had proven that.
Murder had awakened me. Evelyn would have laughed at that thought, but it was the truth. Maybe nothing else would have.
As I left the room, I realized I didn't feel a paralyzing guilt anymore. My war with Barbara hadn't been against her but against heroin. I'd lost but I'd fight again.
Just as I would fight for my own life. Not the life I've lived in the past few years but one that embraced possibilities.
Evelyn had always lived life to the fullest. She'd laughed louder than anyone, faced her problems without flinching, taken joy in the simple things like watching the sunset with a friend while sipping a margarita.
I'd loved her and if I took anything from our friendship it was to love others as well, especially myself. She'd left me something else: knowledge.
You go along thinking your life is fine. And something suddenly changes. Something, I don't know what, makes you look at things not full on, but from an angle. Like you stepped out of your body. Then you realize you aren't as happy as you thought you were.
I hadn't been happy for a very long time.
When the doorbell rang, I answered it. Talbot stood there and beside him, a cast around her front right leg and looking thinner, was my beloved Sally.
I wasn't ashamed of my tears. They'd begun before I'd entered Barbara's room. Now, they flowed even harder as I bent to hug Sally carefully, weeping into her fur. For a few minutes, we communed, Sally and I, exchanging soft little nuzzles that conveyed love, affection, and gratitude.
When I lifted my head, all three men were watching us, each wearing a smile.
Sally's cast was signed, just like my sling. I turned my head to read the name and smiled when I realized it was Talbot's.
"It needed something," he said.
I stood and walked into the kitchen, all of them following. Sally was remarkably proficient with her cast. With a gusty sigh, she took her place under the table as if nothing had happened.
Talbot had recommended a cleaning service and they'd cleaned up all the blood in only one day. The kitchen reeked of enzymatic cleaner, something almost hospital-like.
What had I expected? To smell chocolate or one of Maude's sauces?
Like a good Southern hostess, I offered tea to my guests. All three men declined.
"Why San Antonio?" I asked, determined to get Talbot to answer some questions now we were face to face.
"Property values," he said.
"So, it was a con game. Identity theft on a grand scale."
"Claire did the advance work, setting up the mark."
"At least I have my answer," I said. At his look, I smiled. "Who introduced Paul to Evelyn. Evelyn called Tom's office periodically, so Claire would have established a relationship with her."
He nodded. "It wasn't fast, but it was worth it. And they hadn't gotten caught."
"But they hadn't killed anyone until Evelyn, either. Was Maude his sister, too?"
He shook his head. "His wife."
"A family affair, then."
I took a deep breath, and asked the question that had been niggling at me all along.
"Why did Evelyn have to die?"
"Evidently, she discovered what Paul had done," he said, his voice oddly kind. "Maude knew it was only a matter of time until she went to the authorities." He smiled, but the expression was half-hearted. "Paul argued against it. Evidently, he was overruled by Maude and Claire."
I remembered Paul's tears on the day I'd delivered the shepherd's pie. Maybe he'd felt more for Evelyn that either Claire or Maude had known.
"Is that why he came here?" I asked, thinking aloud. "To confront Maude? On the day Evelyn died he came here instead of calling 911."
He shook his head. Another one of those things we might never know.
"How did she get the taxine?"
"I know," Army said, staring at the window.
He walked passed me to stand in front of the window. With one finger, he jiggled the leaves of one of Maude's herbs. "I wish I'd seen this before. We might have figured everything out a lot sooner."
"What is it?"
"Seedlings for Japanese Yew." He turned to look at Talbot and me. "I was going to plant it in my own garden until I learned how poisonous it is. Taxus cuspidate. Similar to taxine. The effects are the same."
Holy crap, to use a Talbotism. I was throwing Maude's cookies away the minute I found them.
"How did she do it?" I asked, looking at the pots again.
Nobody answered me. Had she taken Evelyn some of her chocolate cake? Or delivered a pot of soup?
I hated that things weren't wrapped up neatly in a bow after an hour, but life wasn't television.
"Paul couldn't tell anyone that Maude had poisoned Evelyn," I said. "Because they were all in it together. But why was he killed?"
"Maude's refusing to admit she killed him," he said. "I don't know if we'll ever know, one way or another. It might have just been a horrible accident."
"It wasn't," I said, shaking my head.
"He was afraid of her. He didn't eat her shepherd's pie," I said, reminding him of the day I'd retrieved my container from Evelyn's house. "Probably afraid she'd poison him."
"That explains the strange demise of Mrs. Maldonado's cat," Frank said.
Horrified, I stared at him.
"Curiosity really did kill the cat in his case, I'm afraid."
"So, she's responsible for three deaths," I said.
The doorbell rang.
"Would you like me to get that, Jennifer?" Army asked.
I was still staring at the pots I'd seen every day for months. I nodded, nearly falling into a chair at the table.
Talbot joined me as Army and Frank left the room. Were they joined at the hip, or was it just a way to give us privacy?
"Will Frank be in trouble for killing Claire?"
He shook his head. "No. The district attorney has declined to prosecute."
"It probably falls under the Castle Doctrine," I said. Over the years, some law has rubbed off on me. I wouldn't be prosecuted, either, since I'd acted in self-defense.
I pulled Barbara's drug kit out of my sling. "Get rid of that for me, will you?"
He looked down at it, nodding.
"I'm sorry it turned out the way it did with Barbara. She was a beautiful girl."
"She was smart," I said. "And bubbly, and had a wonderful personality."
He didn't say anything to the litany of Barbara’s accomplishments. I didn't want him to. I simply wanted to give him a taste of her that was different from all the other things he knew about her. He'd only seen the dregs, never the possibilities.
I wanted to know so many things about him. What happened to his wife? Why had he left the Rangers? After all, he knew everything there was to know about me, it seemed only fair that he share. But there was a time and a place and this was neither.
A thought struck me. "She never grieved."
Talbot looked at me strangely.
"Maude. The day of the explosion, she was the same. The day after, the same. In all these weeks, she never broke down, never once seemed different." If you loved someone, you mourned them.
"A good actress."
She could be that. I remembered how she purred around Talbot. Why? Because he was a handsome man? Or because he was a cop? Or, she could simply have been cold and calculating.
When he didn't volunteer any more information, I frowned.
"Did Maude tell you where the money was?"
He smiled. "She didn't know. And Claire didn't know, either, which is why they both hung around after Paul's death. They were trying to find it."
"No honor among thieves?"
He nodded.
"So, he stiffed them. Why? To get back at them for killing Evelyn?"
"That might be one of those things we'll never know," he said.
"Paul wasn't a murderer. Just a con man. I still don't like him. Do you think you'll ever find the money?"
"We already did," he said, looking a bit smug. "It's in an offshore bank. One they didn't use before. Altogether, it was close to half a million dollars."
My eyes widened. "Identity theft is evidently very lucrative."
He nodded.
"And it means he was responsible for the mortgage on Linda's house."
Before he could answer, Army entered the kitchen, hidden behind an enormous bouquet of lush red roses.
"You've got flowers," Frank said.
I sighed, looked at the roses, and sighed again. Army handed me the card and I debated opening it or just throwing it away unread. I already knew who'd sent them.
Welcome home. With best wishes for a speedy recovery. Tom.
Thank God it wasn't something sappy or romantic or even kind. But at least Claire hadn't sent them. I wondered if Tom had already replaced her.
My husband hadn't visited me in the hospital. No doubt afraid he'd be seen by the bevy of reporters. But, in his defense, I'd only been there a day and a half.
"Throw them away, Army," I said, and at his look of surprise, altered my request. "Or take them home."
He nodded.
I opened my cell phone and hit the first speed dial number.
When Tom finally came to the phone, I greeted him, waving Talbot back into his chair. I didn't care if anyone heard what I had to say.
"Were you having an affair with Claire?" I asked.
He didn't answer, but I could almost hear his thoughts. How much could he tell me without it costing him a fortune in divorce court? Texas was a community property state - it was already going to cost him half of everything.
"No," he said finally.
"Who was it?"
I honestly didn't think he would tell me.
"Maude," he said.
I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at it.
"Is that why you called?"
"No," I said, smiling my last vacuous smile. "I called to tell you I hate red roses. I've always hated red roses. But you keep sending me red roses. Don't send me roses anymore, Tom, and don't send me red roses. Ever."
"Is that all?" he finally said.
Silence again, a perfect rounded mound of it, like a mountain of mashed potatoes.
The new and improved Jennifer reared up, wanted to bite off his head, but the proper wife managed to subdue her. It wouldn't do any good for me to call Tom names, although it would make me feel better.
Instead, I pushed End.
I was getting good at hanging up on people.
“Are you all right?” Talbot asked me.
"He was having an affair with Maude," I said, staring at Talbot. Frank and Army came into my peripheral vision and I looked at both of them. "Maybe Maude did kill Paul but for an entirely different reason. Maybe she envisioned herself being the next Mrs. Roberts."
I stared at the pots over the sink, and thought about the voodoo drink I threw away every morning. Maybe I should have a few tests run on me, just to be on the safe side.
Army put his hand on my shoulder. Since his mind ran to murderous impulses, I could tell he and I were having similar thoughts. I patted his hand.
"Are you sure you're all right?" Talbot asked.
I nodded, taking mental inventory.
“Yes, I think I am," I said, surprised. “My best friend was murdered. A woman I thought I knew tried to kill me - maybe more than once - and did kill two other people and one poor cat." I stopped in the middle of my recitation - the body count really was stupendous - and took a deep breath. "Yes, I'm really fine."
I got a warm and fuzzy glow from his smile.
"And you were right about everything."
You were right. The most priceless words in the English language. How long had it been since I'd heard them?
"Well, I wasn't right about Tom." I'd have to digest that information slowly. "Thank you," I said, stretching out my hand to Talbot. "For everything." He held it in a firm grip.
It’s strange how the mind works. In the moments we sat there, looking at each other, I wasn’t thinking of Tom or Barbara or Maude or murder.
Instead, I was thinking about something Evelyn had said. "Life is like a movie, Jenn. It can either be one of those silent black and white features, where someone else plays the music for you. Or you can have an epic, guns blazing, music soaring, lust, love, and adventure."
My life hadn't exactly been the kind of adventure I would have planned in the last few weeks, but it had been more than a silent movie.
I smiled, wondering what Evelyn would have said about Talbot. But what really intrigued me was how Talbot and I would treat each other the next time we met.
Also by Karen Ranney
For current information about new books, please go to: https://karenranney.com/
* * *
ALL FOR LOVE TRILOGY
To Love a Duchess (2018)
To Wed an Heiress (2019)
Untitled Book (2020)
* * *
THE FURRY CHRONICLES
The Lottery - Furry - Book 1
> The Sound and the Furry - Book 2
My Furry Valentine - Book 3
* * *
THE DUKE SERIES
The Scottish Duke
The English Duke
The American Duke
* * *
THE MACIAIN SERIES
In Your Wildest Scottish Dreams
Scotsman of My Dreams
An American in Scotland
THE MONTGOMERY CHRONICLES
The Fertile Vampire – Book 1
The Reluctant Goddess – Book 2
Pranic, Pregnant, and Petrified - Book 3
THE CLAN SINCLAIR SERIES
The Devil of Clan Sinclair
The Witch of Clan Sinclair
The Virgin of Clan Sinclair
Return to Clan Sinclair
THE SCOTTISH SISTERS
A Scandalous Scot
The Lass Wore Black
* * *
THE LOVED SERIES
My Beloved
My True Love
* * *
THE HIGHLAND LORDS
One Man’s Love
When the Laird Returns
The Irresistible MacRae
To Love a Scottish Lord
So in Love
THE TULLOCH SGATHAN SERIES
Sold to a Laird
A Highland Duchess
A Borrowed Scot
STAND ALONE NOVELS (HISTORICAL)
NOVELS SET IN ENGLAND
Tapestry
Above All Others
My Wicked Fantasy
Upon a Wicked Time
After the Kiss
NOVELS SET IN SCOTLAND
A Promise of Love
Heaven Forbids
Till Next We Meet
An Unlikely Governess
Autumn in Scotland
The Scottish Companion
The Devil Wears Tartan
A Scotsman in Love
A Scottish Love
STAND ALONE NOVELS (CONTEMPORARY)
Murder Among Friends (formerly titled Murder by Mortgage)
The Eyes of Love
Echoes of Murder (formerly titled What About Alice?)
