by Jade Wolfe
He’d lost his balance when he missed my head, and he lunged sideways, into another table. Several lamps crashed like dominoes and fell to the floor. His feet got tangled in the cords and he went down.
I jumped forward and plopped down on top of his chest, pinning his arms against the floor with my knees. He was still holding the gun, and now he was trying hard to throw me off, bucking like a wild horse. I grabbed one of the lamps, a tall one with a pretty floral shade. It was heavy. I whacked him on the nose with it and the shade flew off and rolled away. “Stop it.”
“Clover?”
I spun around at the sound of Dante’s voice. I hadn’t even heard him come in. He was on top of us in a second, shoving me out of the way and grabbing Pete’s shirt to hold him down. “Dante - he’s got-.”
The gun came up, toward Dante’s head, before he could twist around to block it. Thinking fast, I slammed the lamp down across Pete’s knuckles and heard a crunching sound that made me immediately sick.
Pete howled and the gun clattered to the floor. I kicked it, missed, and my foot caught Dante on the ankle. He grunted, but didn’t let go of Pete.
Thank goodness, because Pete looked ready to murder somebody. Well, somebody else.
Well, me, specifically.
Bagly was slumped against the half-wall under the big window, completely out. I hoped he was OK, but I didn’t run to help him just yet. Instead, I looked around for the gun and didn’t see it anywhere.
That was a problem. If anything in this room needed to be secured, it was the gun. I dropped to my hands and knees and started looking under the tables and cabinets sitting around. There were plenty of places in this area where something as small as a gun could be hiding.
I finally found it, far back under a corner of an old bookcase. The bookcase itself looked incredibly heavy, and I doubted I could move it, so I shimmied forward on my elbows and belly, choking on dust bunnies, until I thought I could reach it. Straining one arm hard, I tried to grab the grip and missed.
“Crap,” I muttered, coughing. I reached again, pushing myself forward with my toes, and managed to tag the gun with a finger. It spun around, and now the barrel was pointing directly at me. “Wonderful.”
“What are you doing over there?” Dante said. “Leave that alone.”
I glanced back to see that he had Pete on his belly and handcuffed. Pete’s face rested on the dirty tile floor. Eye-level with me, in fact. Pete glared at me with the heat of a thousand suns, but he couldn’t get to me, and I was between him and his gun.
Dante plucked the radio from his belt to call in backup, and I went back to reaching for the gun. It was out of reach again, and I was afraid that spinning it around again might make it go off somehow, so I decided to sit up and sit in front of the bookshelf and guard the thing.
Dante, with one knee planted firmly in the center of Pete’s back, shot me a look that was part amusement, part annoyance. “It’s not going to get away,” he said when he got off the radio. “You’re filthy.”
“I don’t want him getting his hands on it again.” I tried dusting the cobwebs and dust off my shirt, but that just made it worse.
“He’s handcuffed.” Dante pointed at Pete’s wrists.
“You never know. He’s tricky.” I saw a smudge of dirt on the side of my nose and rubbed it.
“Tricky.”
“Yes. Shut up.” I paused to sneeze. “How did you know to come here, anyway?” I asked.
“I saw your truck outside. Why did you come here?”
“To buy a vase.”
He didn’t look very much like he believed me.
“It’s true. If I’d known Pete was here I would have waited until you caught him first.”
Dante sighed and shook his head, then turned when Dale and Roger, one of the other deputies, came rushing through the door with their guns drawn.
“I got him, guys. Put your weapons away. Then move General Dustbunny over there and get Pete’s pistol from under that bookshelf.” To me he said, “You can get up now. The professionals are here. Go home. I’ll come get your statement later.”
“Is he going to jail?” I asked. I moved out of the way for two EMTs who came rushing in. They headed straight for Bagly.
Pete growled and tried to wiggle free.
“Yes, for assaulting you and for murder. The reports on Bess’s body came back. “Pete here is a murderer - they found his prints on the dictionary and on the doorknob at the rear of the library. Even worse, he was trying to manipulate Lavinia.”
“Manipulate how?” Lavinia was in a vulnerable place right now, but I didn’t think she was easily swayed.
“He was trying to talk her into killing herself the day you found her on the bridge. She mentioned that in our interview earlier today.”
“Oh, no! Have you told Lavinia?” I asked. I really wanted to go kick Pete in his stupid face, but I restrained myself.
“Not yet - I just got the report back twenty minutes ago.”
“Can I?”
“Let the police handle it, Clover. Please?” He threw a thumb toward the door. “And go on home now.”
“I am.”
I climbed into my truck and hesitated a moment, thinking about Lavinia. I wondered if she would be happy to hear that she could at least go home and mourn in peace, or if she would be more devastated that her own brother had killed her husband. As far as I could tell, she really had loved Jasper, regardless of the affair or whatever else he might have done.
As for Bess, her death was a terrible shame. She was more naive than dangerous, even if she had hurt Bagly, and she really had thought Jasper was some literary genius. Maybe he was, according to the BBC Award people, but he wasn’t worth all this death and destruction. Nobody was.
I put the truck in gear and headed for home.
Chapter Nineteen
I was just coming into the living room when Dad raced in from the kitchen, his laptop balanced and clutched awkwardly in one arm. His face was red, and he was grinning from ear to ear. “Where have you been? I just finished my first actual chapter!” he said, thrusting the laptop at me.
I took it and hugged him, thinking he needed a printer, but his joy was evident. “That’s fantastic!” I said.
“What’s fantastic?”
We turned to see Jason coming in through the front door, just behind me. He was sweaty from his run. He always seemed sweaty these days, now that I thought about it.
“Dad’s writing.” I set the laptop down on the coffee table. “I haven’t read it yet.”
Dad gasped, and I spun around to see what was wrong. “You can’t just read it,” he said, going pale. “You have to wait until it’s finished.”
I blinked. “Oh. Ok. I thought you wanted me to read it. Sorry.”
He snatched the laptop off the table and held it close. “No. You’ll have to wait in line like everyone else.”
“Aww, shoot.” Jason rolled his eyes.
A knock on the door got our attention. When I opened it, Lavinia stood there with three thick manila envelopes in her arms. “I had these printed and sent by courier for you,” she said, glancing past me and nodding a hello n the general direction of Dad and Jason. She looked tired, but also more relaxed, as if she was relieved that this whole mess was over.
I grinned and took them from her, then turned around and handed them to Dad. “For your eyes only,” I said before handing them over. Then I explained what they were.
His knees actually buckled a little, he was so excited. With a quick thanks, he turned and disappeared up the stairs. “Well, he’ll be busy for a few days,” I mumbled.
Lavinia smiled a little as she watched him go. “Jasper’s fans really, really loved him,” she said.
I nodded. “What are you going to do now?” I asked her.
She shrugged and looked at the floor. “Go home. Plan a funeral. Get on with things, I guess.”
“I’m sorry.” I took her hand and squeezed it. The poor woman was on t
he cusp of enjoying her golden years with the man she loved, and her own brother ripped that out of her grasp. It would be hard to get over something like that, but I got the impression that if anyone could, it would be Lavinia. She might look like an aristocrat, but she had steel in her backbone.
She squeezed back. “Well, if nothing else good came from this whole mess, I do feel like I at least made a good friend.”
We chatted for a few more minutes and then she left, telling us she had a plane to catch. I watched her go, not realizing that Jason had left the room until he came back, carrying a white envelope. He gave it to me.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Read it.”
When I did, I squealed and hugged him. “You got in! Oh my gosh, Jason, this is wonderful!” I hugged him again, sweat and all, and he laughed.
“I still don’t think it’s a good idea.” Sage popped in and glared at us.
“Tough.” Jason waved a hand at her. “Get used to it, Granny.”
We laughed as she tossed her head and disappeared.
Just before I turned back to Jason, I caught sight of my mother, standing silently in the corner. I wasn’t sure, but I thought she was smiling.
Thanks for reading! If you haven’t picked up the other Wilder Witch books, you can grab them here!
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