A Composition in Murder (A Cherry Tucker Mystery Book 6)

by Larissa Reinhart

  “Shut up.”

  “—and Maggie’s going to confess to three murders. And a burglary. Isn’t that right?”

  “Glad it’s all under control in there,” said Luke. “Let’s deal with Parker for now. Parker, lay your weapon down. I’m coming in, but if I see it in your hand, I’ll shoot you.”

  He barked a barely coherent suggestion.

  “Parker,” I said. “You’re not winning any favors with talk like that. Just lay down the pistol.”

  Beside me, Maggie hunched into a tighter ball and shoved her hands into her sweatsuit pockets.

  “Don’t worry, Maggie.” I inched away to get a better eyeball on Parker. “Luke won’t let anything happen to us. I’m good at keeping a cool head.”

  “You stay behind that chair, Cherry. Don’t try anything,” yelled Luke. “Parker, put down your weapon now.”

  “You got no choice, Parker, and you know it,” I said. “You don’t want to die.”

  Parker’s shoulders shook. He swiped at the tears dripping from his face with the back of his arm. “I can’t think.”

  “You don’t need to think, son.” Luke’s deep voice floated through the doorway. “Listen to me. Slide your body down the wall.”

  Parker’s knees bent, his legs shook, and his body slammed onto the carpet.

  “He’s down,” I said.

  “That’s good,” said Luke. “Real good. Now, Parker, put your gun on the floor.”

  Maggie’s breathing accelerated and she moaned again.

  I glanced from Parker and saw her fumbling with a syringe. “What is that? Are you having a spell or something?”

  “What’s going on?” said Luke.

  “Maggie’s not well.” I eyed Parker. “He’s got the gun on the floor. You need to let go of it now, Parker.”

  “That’s right,” said Luke. “Son, take your hand off the weapon and stand back up.”

  Hunched and shaking, Parker stared at the gun in his hand.

  I held my breath. Beside me, Maggie struggled into sitting. A tiny clink, like the tapping of a nail polish bottle, caught my ear. I glanced at my feet where a broken ampule had hit my boot.

  “What’s that?” I spotted another broken bottle next to it. A third had rolled under the chair. “What’s the matter? Is it your heart, Maggie?”

  “Everything okay?” called Luke.

  “Maggie might be having a heart—”

  At Maggie’s lunge, I screamed and kicked away. The glass bottles rolled, tinkling as they hit the wall.

  “Parker, drop that gun now,” Luke continued. “I’m counting to three, then I’m coming in. Remember what I said. If you’re holding that gun, you’ll give me no choice. I’ll have to shoot you.”

  Parker cursed and hammered his fist on the carpet. “Leave me alone.”

  Maggie’s arm slammed into my throat, pressing on my windpipe and knocking me back. I wheezed and pushed at her surprisingly solid arm. The scent of chamomile and lavender filled my nostrils as I fought to breathe.

  “Parker,” called Luke. “One.”

  Her body collapsed on top of mine, slamming into my legs and pinning me. One heavy arm thrust against my neck, crushing my windpipe. A vein beat in her forehead. Her raspy breath rushed from her throat, pulsing hot against my skin.

  I gasped and choked.

  She lifted slightly. I took a ragged breath and saw her hand draw up, fisting the syringe. Her other arm pushed against my throat, cutting off my breath. I clawed at her arm, whimpering.

  “Two,” called Luke. “Don’t make me do this, Parker.”

  The needle buried deep into my thigh. I slapped and kicked. She held tight to my neck, fighting to steady the injection. Damn, she was strong for a senior. I clawed at her soft hands and pushed at her bony shoulders. Jerked my head, trying to jostle her heavy arm. Her body felt as fragile as a bundle of dry twigs and heavy as a load of bricks.

  With an eerie deliberateness, Maggie ignored my frantic twitching and bucking. She gripped the syringe, struggling to get a thumb on the plunger. I heaved my body side to side, rolling Maggie with me. The needle dug into my leg. Maggie grappled to hold on. Her arm slipped from my throat.

  Pulling in a deep breath, I thrust my head and shoulders forward. Strained to sit up.

  “Three,” called Luke.

  She adjusted to get her free hand on the plunger, and I wiggled backward.

  Squirming and rolling, I hit the wall. Used the leverage to pull my hips up. I shoved at Maggie, wriggling up the wall. Maggie’s dead weight slid off my legs and face-planted into the carpet.

  I popped up with the syringe still stuck in my leg. Yanking out the syringe, I glanced across the room.

  From the floor, Parker gaped at me. Still holding the gun.

  “Parker,” I rasped. “Let go of that gun.”

  Luke burst through the door. “Get down,” he yelled.

  My heart pounded and my skin crawled, urging me to flee from Maggie. But the sight of Luke swinging through the door and Parker armed sent another tremor through me. I hurled my body behind the chair. Maggie had pulled herself into a semi-squat. I tossed the syringe and threw myself on top of her. Her breath whooshed from her body. I tightened my arms around her. She shuddered but didn’t try to buck me off.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and clutched her.

  While time oozed like pine sap, tension coiled and threatened to explode within me. The erratic pounding of Maggie’s heart thudded through her back. Her breathing whistled. Luke’s police belt jangled and the hissing from his earpiece sounded deafening.

  “Get your hand off the weapon,” shouted Luke. “Now.”

  I held my breath. A cold dampness inched across my neck and my stomach unknotted and opened into a pit of churning nausea. Luke was completely exposed. Standing in front of an armed man crazed with confusion, fear, and grief.

  I’d never felt so scared in my life.

  Beneath me, Maggie wriggled out of my clutch. I drew my arms around myself as the heat from her body escaped. I couldn’t break myself from that rigid crouch. Nor open my eyes.

  A metallic click and a howl accompanied the sound of a body slamming into the floor.

  Outside the door, people shouted and a set of heavy footsteps thudded into the room. Whispered murmurs rose to a fevered pitch of voices. Someone was panting. Hard.

  And then I heard the chair shoved away. Arms went around me and his voice, sure and strong, said, “Cherry?”

  I hadn’t heard a gunshot. My eyes popped open.

  Luke crouched before me, the lines in his face drawn tight, his jaw rigid. “Sugar, are you okay?”

  I propelled myself into his chest. “Never do that to me again.”

  He yanked me back to look me in the eyes. “You’re lecturing me on dangerous situations? When I found you holed up with an armed drug dealer?”

  “I was fine. You’re the one who busted into the room to face him.”

  “It’s part of my job. I’m trained, for cripes’ sake. Lord Almighty, you’re the one always reacting on instinct.” His hand cupped my cheek and he traced a tear with his thumb. “You’re crying over me, baby?”

  “No.” I sniffed and scrubbed my cheek with the back of my hand. “You know I don’t cry.”

  “Right.” He kissed my cheek. “Listen, if I can live with you pulling these crazy stunts, you’ll have to do the same for me.”

  “Did you shoot him? I didn’t hear the gunshot.”

  “Tased. Last minute, I decided to holster and switch to the taser.” He squeezed my shoulder, then stood. “Parker’s cuffed and Deputy Johnson’s taking him out. Where’s this Maggie?”

  I stared at him. “You didn’t arrest Maggie?”

  “I thought she was a hostage. I w
as focused on disarming Parker. Who’s Maggie?”

  “Oh no.” I jumped to my feet and ran toward the back of the apartment. Pushed open the door to the bedroom suite.

  A hand captured my shoulder and yanked me back. “Let me do my job, Cherry. Get out in the hall with everyone else.”

  “We’re too late.” I turned, burying my head in his shoulder, but I couldn’t get the image of Maggie’s body lying on the bed with a syringe stuck in her neck out of my head.

  “There’s your culprit in the Brakeman murders,” I cried. “I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t save any of them.”

  Outside Belvia’s apartment, a large crowd had assembled. Nearly all of Halo House’s population—who didn’t have appointments or tee times—had gathered, despite the lockdown procedures Krenzer had tried to enforce. I wandered into the hall wrapped in another victim’s blanket. Behind me, ENTs loaded Maggie on a crash cart under the supervision of Deputy Luke Harper. Parker was already in custody.

  My adrenaline rush had run its course. Exhausted, I wandered through the crowd, saving my witness testimony for the officials despite the call for news from the residents. Next to the elevator, I found Fred, craning his neck to see through the mob, and thanked him for his help.

  “I found Ada in the deli and got her to her room,” said Fred. “I don’t know how Parker had snuck into the building without us seeing him though.”

  “He had a key to the building.” Ada wiggled around a walker to stand beside us. “Hazel told me. He could slip in and out on his drug-purchasing rounds. Occasionally, he’d officially check in to see Belvia, in case residents reported seeing him.”

  “Nice to know that now,” I spoke stiffly.

  Ada flushed. “I’m sorry, Cherry. I only did the restraining order to get you off my back about Hazel.”

  My chin rose a notch and my voice remained frosty. “And how are Hazel and Rosie? Did they pick up a young Brad Pitt yet?”

  “On their way home to turn themselves in, I believe.” Ada narrowed her eyes. “Particularly as I told them Parker and his gang wouldn’t be around to harass them.”

  “Thanks to me.”

  Ada squished her lips to the side but gave me a grudging nod.

  “Y’all quit.” Fred pushed us into a hug. “Neither of you really want to fight.”

  “I’m sorry, Cherry.”

  “I miss you, Ada.” I tightened our embrace. “I hated that our friendship would put you in danger.”

  She released me and winked. “I live for danger. Don’t you know that by now?”

  “Listen to me, Ada.” Fred put a hand on her shoulder. “I know you were worried about what Parker would do if he thought Hazel had ratted on him. However, you abetted a crime. You should have gone to the police. Instead, you protected two fugitives.”

  “I was watching out for my friends.”

  “I won’t stand for this sort of thing, Ada.”

  “Are you breaking up with me?”

  I drew in a startled breath. I hadn’t even known they were dating.

  Around us, the crowd shifted. A murmured rumble spread, winding through the residents like a senior version of telephone.

  “Hey, Fred, why don’t you come over for sweet rolls and coffee,” called a woman. “I keep my rolls hot.”

  “Fred, I have all the seasons of Columbo on DVD. And Antiques Roadshow on the DVR.”

  Ada spun, darting angry looks at the women around her. “What is this? A feeding frenzy? Back off, girls. I’m not letting go that easy.”

  I glanced at Fred, expecting a look of triumph. Instead, his rheumy eyes spoke of a more serious intention. A similar look I’d seen in Luke’s recently.

  “Ada, I know you’re a pistol, but I’m getting too old for these games,” he said. “I love you, but when Parker went after you, I thought I might have a stroke. For real. I can’t do this anymore if this is how you’ll behave.”

  “Just what are you saying, Fred?” she said. “I know I have friends in low places, but—”

  “No more of this monkey business. I can’t take it. Leave the monkeys to Cherry.”

  Ada bowed her head. I knew how she felt, but Fred was right. His color didn’t look good. She needed to protect his health as much as she wanted to protect her friends.

  Ada’s eyes didn’t leave the floor. “I can’t take you telling me what to do.”

  My hands flew to cover my mouth. Todd and Luke were right. Ada sounded just like me.

  “I’m not telling you, Ada,” said Fred gently. “I’m asking you. To marry me.”

  Ada’s head jerked up.

  I blinked away tears and bit my lip, waiting for Ada’s response. Around me, hearing aids whined as the residents pumped up the volume. The crowd leaned in.

  “If you’re asking, then I’ll say yes. I promise not to involve myself with any more murderers, thieves, or drug dealers. However, when it comes to monkey business?” Ada shrugged. “I’ve always had trouble understanding that definition. I can’t help it that odd things just sort of happen around me.”

  “Good enough.” Fred opened his arms and Ada collapsed against him.

  I was happy to see that post-seventy, kisses could still sizzle.

  Fred came up for air and smacked the elevator’s up button. “Champagne on my account. Meet us at Last Call. We’ll be down in a few.”

  He and Ada shuffled into the elevator. Thumbing his floor button, he glanced through the doors at me. “You’ll be our maid of honor, Cherry. Try not to get shot or arrested before then.”

  Ada winked. “Give me a call if you do—”

  “Ada,” said Fred.

  “And I’ll report you to Deputy Harper.” She waggled her eyebrows. “You might enjoy a house arrest with that one.”

  Thirty-Seven

  The next day, my class was reinstated through popular demand. Not exactly an art appreciation moment though. Halo House’s curiosity seekers suddenly found hot yoga boring compared to the artist who had survived the fall of the Brakeman empire.

  Charges weren’t brought against Rosie and Hazel, although Krenzer gave them a slap on the wrist along with permission to room together in Ada’s apartment once she became Mrs. Fred. They’d save money by subleasing their own apartments now that Halo House had become an even more popular senior destination due to its infamy in the Brakeman case. According to Krenzer, the reservation line had been ringing off the hook.

  The sheriff’s department had recovered the missing will from Maggie/Molly’s apartment. With Miss Belvia’s will intact, her remaining Meemaw’s Tea shares and CEO successorship went to Coralee’s daughter, Pris. Belvia had changed her will after speaking to Pris and finding in her estranged granddaughter the family member who most followed in her footsteps. Pris’s earlier remorse had been letting her mother keep her from her family, not from covering secrets.

  Pris had confided in me at the Forks County Sheriff’s Office following Parker’s arrest for aggravated assault, possession of a firearm in the commission of a felony, and disorderly conduct. We still waited on the charge of distribution of controlled substances.

  “I’ll do what I can to help Parker and Ron, plus keep my dad nearby,” Pris had said. “Wally’s not able to deal with the ‘reality of Coralee’s departure.’ I’m putting him in rehab. It’s time the company made good on its marketing slogans and really focused on family.”

  “‘Meemaw’s puts the Tea in tradition,’” I’d quoted. “You’ll make a good sweet tea queen. Even if you weren’t raised Southern.”

  However, when it came to my art class, I had to push my art style past my traditionalist taste and into the twenty-first century. My students lived for the moment and my notoriety with the Brakeman murder case wouldn’t last. They’d be back to yoga in a hot minute. The female Halo House artists
were pleased with my decision. For every nine women, there was now one man. Better than average for most Halo House activities.

  “All right, students.” I looked around the room of easels. “Remember, this is about capturing personality as much as it is capturing line, shape, and depth. I want to see all the things I’ve taught you this semester. Form through the use of tones and shading. Perspective through foreshortening. Watch your use of light and shadow.”

  I turned as Todd and Fred entered, hauling a velvet chaise lounge between them.

  “Hey, baby, where do you want this?” called Todd.

  “Good timing,” I said. “Right in the center of the room.”

  Todd and Fred heaved the sofa to chest height and backed through the easels.

  The bathroom door banged open and Rosie sauntered out. Walking to the chaise, she winked at Todd, dropped her robe, and stretched on the sofa in true odalisque fashion.

  Todd picked up his jaw and fled the room.

  Charcoal scratched on paper without grumbles. I left the students to it and followed Todd. Behind me, Ada dragged Fred from the room, lecturing him on the necessity of abandoning his art career for married life.

  “Sorry about that,” I said to Todd. “I should’ve warned you.”

  He shuddered but recovered with an easy smile. “Hey, Shawna’s going to meet with her father. It’s good she knows the truth. Thanks for telling her. Too bad she’s still angry with y’all. She said your mother was likely the reason Billy went to prison in the first place.”

  A nerve hammered near my eye. “Christy Tucker may have been loosely moraled, but I doubt the Georgia penal system would allow her to lock a man up without their consent.”

  Todd’s hands rose. “I’m sure it’ll work itself out. Shawna’s not dealing so good with her dad’s prison record.”

  “I could care two hoots how Shawna feels. But at least Cody benefits.” I folded my arms. “Miss Belvia had foreseen me agreeing to her crazy scheme. Her will had all these codicils, including one bequeathal to Cody Tucker’s legal defense fund, stating if the charges were dropped against him, the funds would then go to a new wing of Line Creek Hospital called ‘The Branson Annex.’ A carrot and a stick. Her favorite way to do business.”