Pineapple Puppies
Page 21
Outside, the Miata roared to life and Lyndsey glanced at the window.
“What’s that?”
Freed from the puppies, Charlotte took a step forward, forcing Lyndsey to focus back on her. Lyndsey pointed the gun at Charlotte and then placed the tip back against Mina’s head. Mina’s whole body shook as her lips mumbled something that looked very much like a prayer.
Lyndsey shuffled to the left with Mina to peer out the window.
“They took my car. Those bitches.”
Charlotte decided she’d have to buy Lyndsey a thesaurus as a going-away-to-prison gift. There were so many other options for name-calling. Cows, harlots, jerkfaces, bastards...which they were, technically...
“Get out of my way.” Lyndsey pointed her gun at Charlotte.
Charlotte held up a palm. “Let’s talk about this. You still have options.”
Lyndsey pushed Mina, forcing her to walk forward. Charlotte backed.
I need to keep her talking. Where are the cops? Please tell me Mina called nine-one-one.
“Lyndsey, we all understand why you did what you did. You had to kill your Uncle Miller. He’d left you no choice.”
Lyndsey paused and Mina stopped walking.
“He left me no choice,” she echoed. She pressed her lips together, her eyes beginning to well with tears. “He told me I was his daughter. He was so proud. And then all of a sudden he denied it.”
“It was the disease that made him think you weren’t.”
“He was going to change the will again. Mom said we had to have his money to make our new life. To make the equestrian center.”
“Right. We get that.”
Now backed into the front hall, Charlotte glanced out the door. In the distance, she heard sirens. She never dreamed she’d be so pleased to see Sheriff Carter.
She looked back, in time to see one of the puppies line itself up in front of her, its gaze locked on hers.
Don’t you do it…
The puppy backed up to get a running start and then ran full force at her leg, flipping at the last moment to land on its back on her foot before twisting to chomp down on her flip flop strap.
Every time Charlotte wiggled her foot, the movement only increased the dog’s attack frenzy.
“You can have the money,” said Mina.
Lyndsey tightened her grip on Mina’s neck and pressed the gun against her head. Mina winced, her eyes screwed shut.
“I love you, Lyndsey. Please. I’ll be sure you get it all.”
Lyndsey’s expression appeared trapped between anger and teary frustration. She cocked her head and glanced at the window.
She can hear the sirens now.
Lyndsey pointed the gun at Charlotte. “This will never work. It’s all ruined now. Move it. Move out of the way. I’m taking her with me.”
Another puppy ran by Charlotte into the hall as she took a step back, dragging her most recent fuzzy attacker with her. She held up her hands, her gun pointed to the ceiling.
“Keep going.”
Charlotte continued to walk backwards, clubfooted by the Yorkie until she passed the stairs, providing Lyndsey a clear path to the door.
“You can go, but leave Mina. You don’t need to take her. I won’t shoot you.”
Charlotte lowered her weapon to the ground. As she straightened, the Yorkies on her foot dove off to pounce on the gun, causing it to spin wildly.
All three of the women winced and jumped, yelping as the dog continued to spin the gun, trying to bite the barrel.
Lyndsey shoved Mina toward the twirling weapon. She moved for the door, lifting her foot to run, only to find it hovering over the puppy that had wandered into the hall. Instinctively, she tried to avoid the pup and fell forward against the wall, her own gun sent skittering across the floor.
This is my chance.
Charlotte lunged forward and slammed Lyndsey against the wall to keep her from moving for the gun. Slipping her hands under Lyndsey’s armpits, she jerked her foe away from the wall and further from where the gun lay. They stumbled toward the opposite wall and fell against it to slide to the floor.
Lyndsey tried to roll as Charlotte pinned her arms. She was much larger than the horse trainer, and though Lyndsey fought like a wolverine to throw her off, Charlotte was able to keep her down.
“Grab the gun,” Charlotte grunted at Mina as she wrestled to keep her grip.
Lyndsey roared and tried to slam the back of her head into Charlotte’s face.
Mina scrambled to Lyndsey’s gun. Charlotte glanced over to find herself looking down the barrel of the weapon held in Mina’s trembling hand.
Okay. That might have been a bad idea.
Outside, she heard the police cars skid to a stop and Sheriff Carter appeared at the door, his gun drawn on Mina.
“Drop it!”
Mina followed his direction and Charlotte winced and ducked as the weapon clattered to the tile.
A moment later, the deputies had Lyndsey cuffed. Charlotte leaned against the wall, exhausted.
“You okay?” asked Carter.
She nodded, panting. “Did you see the twins?”
He bobbed his head in the direction of the parking area and she looked past him to see the girls standing with phones pointed at Lyndsey as she was guided into the back of the squad car.
“They’re right outside taking photos for Instagram.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Charlotte sat with Miss Izzy on her lap, petting a small mountain of white hair to the ground [EM1]while Mariska fussed in her kitchen.
“So she killed her uncle for the inheritance?” asked Mariska as she hauled out her stand-mixer.
Charlotte nodded. “After they arrested her they found a crawlspace off her bathroom filled with hundreds of letters from her mother while she was in prison, every one of them poisoning the girl’s mind against Kimber Miller and his family. She never really stood a chance. She had it set up like a little shrine.”
“Cindy said she saw police lights over at Tracy’s house. They’ve taken that awful woman away.”
“They arrested her as an accessory. I think she’s every bit as responsible as Lyndsey for the murder.”
Mariska harrumphed. “I don’t always go in for those my-mommy-made-me-do-it defenses, but maybe this time there’s something to it.”
Charlotte stood and moved to the kitchen island to watch Mariska lay measuring cups and spoons side-by-side like little soldiers.
“What are you making?”
“Cookies.”
“I don’t remember you being this meticulous when you bake. Usually the place looks like a kitchen supply store has exploded.”
Mariska smiled. “I have a friend coming to bake with me.”
There was a knock on the door and Charlotte peered through Mariska’s kitchen window to spot a dark-haired girl on the stoop.
Mariska clapped her hands and bounced to the door to answer.
“Come on in.”
Crystal entered the house with a bag of flour tucked under one arm. She looked fresher and cleaner than Charlotte had seen her before, and it took her a moment to realize it was because she was wearing bright colors instead of her trademark black. Her hair, while still dyed an unnatural blue-black, had been pulled back in a neat ponytail.
“Hi, Crystal. I guess you’re Mariska’s mystery baker today?”
Crystal offered Charlotte a shy smile. “Miss Mariska came over and we had a good talk and she offered to teach me how to bake.”
Mariska beamed and patted the girl on the shoulder. “We’re starting with cookies, but we’ll be on to stollen soon enough.”
“You didn’t bring Mark with you?” asked Charlotte. She knew it wasn’t entirely appropriate to ask but she was hoping for good news.
Crystal’s irises bounced towards the ceiling. “Yeah right. That loser is history.”
Ah good.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” said Charlotte slipping past them and to the door.
“The faster I get out of your hair the faster there’ll be cookies for eating.”
As she left, Mariska grinned and winked.
THE END
To keep up with what I’m writing next, visit my humor blog/author site and sign up for my newsletter at:
http://www.AmyVansant.com
Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Amy-Vansant/e/B001K8WXV0/
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/AmyVansant
Goodreads:
https://www.goodreads.com/amyvansant
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/TheAmyVansant
For questions or delightful chit-chat:
Amy@AmyVansant.com
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Amy Vansant is a Wall Street Journal and USA Today best-selling author who writes with an unique blend of thrills, romance and humor (occasionally with a touch of time travel or fantasy).
She has rocked water aerobics at a fifty-five plus community, but has yet to play bingo. She’s heard it’s vicious.
Other Books by Amy Vansant
Pineapple Port Mysteries
Funny, clean mysteries full of unforgettable characters
Pineapple Lies (I) Pineapple Mystery Box (II)
Pineapple Puzzles (III) Pineapple Land War (IV)
Pineapple Beach House (V) Pineapple Disco (VI) Pineapple Gingerbread Men (VII) Pineapple Jailbird (VIII) Pineapple Puppies (IX)
Kilty Romantic Comedy/Thrillers
Funny, suspenseful romances with a touch of time-travel
Kilty as Charged (I) Kilty Conscience (II) Kilty Mind (III) Kilty as Sin (IV)
Angeli Urban Fantasy
Thrilling adventures with a touch of romantic comedy
Angeli (I) Cherubim (II) Varymor (III)
Slightly Romantic Comedies
New Adult/Adult zany romantic romps
Slightly Stalky (I) Slightly Sweaty (II)
The Magicatory (middle-grade fantasy)
Moms are Nuts (editor: humor anthology)
The Surfer’s Guide to Florida (out of print)
* * *
[EM1]I am guessing this means ‘a lot’ or something ?