The Doom Diva Mysteries Books 1

by Sherry M. Siska

  “I’m right,” I said. “Thursday, at the game, she knew my car was by the tennis courts. She probably watched me and saw me go into the restroom. I bet she paid off that kid. But it’s the cards, Tim. Think about it. The only card Harry would have cared about was the one he’d written on. She, on the other hand, she would have wanted the one she dropped in my apartment when she killed Sabrina.”

  Everyone except Tessa was staring at me, giving me their full attention.

  “Marty’s right,” Harry hollered. “That’s what I’m telling you. She’s trying to set me up.”

  “No!” Tessa screamed at him. “He did it. She’s wrong. She’s jealous, just like all the rest of them.”

  I kept talking, calmly laying out my thoughts. “I know I’m right about this, Tim. It all makes sense, now. She was the one in the gift shop that night. Ed was standing guard for her, helping her. He loved her. He’d have done anything for her. He said so himself. And she killed him. She gave him her favorite cocktail, moonshine and ecstasy. I suspect she gave some to Mark that first night I met him, which is why he was so crocked and ended up passing out.”

  Carole stood by the door, tears streaming down her face. She screamed and fell to her knees. “How could you? How could you, Tess?”

  Tessa was completely out of control at that point, screaming and cursing. “No! I didn’t kill Ed. Not on purpose. I’d never have hurt him on purpose. I loved him. He was my best friend in the world. You, though,” she said, pointing at me, “I should have killed you that night at the ballpark.”

  A look of abject horror came over Mark’s face. He pushed Tessa away from him. “You did do it. You killed Sabrina.”

  Tessa clambered across the floor, trying to get back to him. “I did it for you. All of it. She didn’t deserve you. Not like I do. I’m perfect for you. I can make you happy in ways she never would have. She didn’t love you, you know. She still thought Harry was going to suddenly come to his senses and carry her off into the sunset. What an idiot.”

  The rest of the night was filled with yet more statements and interviews with Detective Winger and his crew. When I was finished, I crossed the street to Charli’s and eased down onto her porch swing, watching all of the goings on. Tim joined me about an hour later.

  He sat next to me and gave us a gentle push so that we were slowly swinging back and forth. “I can’t believe I actually kissed Carole. She was so not the person I thought she was,” he said. “I should have listened to you and Charli.”

  “At least she didn’t turn out to be abusive.” I shuddered. “Tim, what the hell is wrong with me?”

  “I don’t know, babe. But I sure hope you figure it out.” He cradled my face in his hands and made me look him in the eyes.

  “Marty, I’m going to say this one time and one time only. If you don’t know what’s what by now, I don’t think you ever will. So, I’m going to say it, and then, I’m going to leave. I don’t want to see you again for a while, because I think we both need a time-out. I can’t keep doing this, this, whatever it is. I love you. And I don’t mean like a brother. Despite what you think, we don’t have all the time in the world.”

  Then, he kissed me, hard on the mouth, stood up, went down the driveway, and disappeared.

  28

  “Charli,” I asked my sister a couple of weeks later, on the Monday of my appointment with the shrink, as she helped me finish putting my dishes away in my new apartment, “how did you know, I mean really know, John was the one you wanted to marry?”

  “Easy. I loved him and I knew he was a great guy. Plus, he passed the mouse test.”

  “The mouse test? What’s that?”

  “One time, when I was about thirteen, Mom hollered for Dad to come in the house for a minute, that she needed him to do something. There was a dead mouse under the kitchen sink and Dad, without teasing Mom, without telling her to do it herself, without so much as batting an eye, he cleaned it out and took the mouse in the back yard, and buried it. I knew, instantly, how much he loved her and I swore that whomever I married was going to have to pass the mouse test. John did.”

  I thought about it for a few minutes. Ricky Ray wouldn’t have gone near a dead mouse with a ten-foot pole.

  “The only man I know besides Dad and John who’d take a dead mouse out from under a cabinet for me is Tim and, much as I love Tim, we’ve known each other too long. He’s been like a brother to me for all these years. We fight like cats and dogs and we are complete opposites in every possible way that matters.”

  Charli grabbed my arm and forced me down into one of my kitchen chairs. “I’m going to tell you something I promised never to tell, but, dang it, I can’t think of how else to get through that thick skull of yours. Do you remember the night you and Ricky Ray got engaged? Y’all came over to that cook-out we were having and made your big announcement and then left so you could be alone and celebrate.”

  “Of course I remember. It was in June, two years ago. We went over to Roanoke and sat under Mill Mountain Star and talked about Ricky Ray’s career. He’d just signed that big contract. That’s why we planned the wedding for September. I still can’t believe he left me like that. Slime ball. Why the walk down memory lane?”

  “Well, after you left Tim sat at my table in the kitchen and bawled. He said that for the first time, he realized he’d been kidding himself all those years, thinking you’d finally see Ricky Ray for what he was and dump him. He thought that would happen and you’d finally come to your senses and the two of you would finally get together. He never thought you’d agree to marry the guy. None of us did, actually. We sat there and talked for a couple of hours, trying to think of ways to break y’all up.”

  I sat there, staring at my sister, trying to remember how to breathe. “I knew you guys hated Ricky, but I never thought you’d stoop so low.”

  “Marty, we weren’t being low. We wanted to protect you. Ricky was never the guy you saw him to be. He was always selfish and egotistical. Once he started getting noticed and courted by the record labels, he became unbearable. You let him manipulate you and use you and treat you like a second class citizen. I never understood it. I still don’t understand it. You have the worst self image of anyone I’ve ever seen.”

  I popped to my feet. “No. I don’t. And what does all this have to do with anything anyway? Ricky Ray dumped me. Three fricking days before the wedding. Tim’s had all kinds of time to make a move and he’s never once even acted like he wanted more. Well, until the other week, and that was only because he was upset that Carole had turned out to be a dud.”

  “Nope. You’re wrong about that. He didn’t say anything or make a move before because he knew you needed time. And he kept thinking you’d wake up one day and see things the way they really are. We all told him he was being foolish to wait, but he insisted. Marty, the man would do anything for you. He was even willing to stand by your side while you married someone else. Someone he hated.”

  I thought about what she’d said. “Well, I still think you’re wrong, Charli. Tim doesn’t love me. He just thinks he does because he thought I was dead and he’d lost me. He’ll get over it.”

  Charli clasped my hand. “No, honey. Believe me, he’s still in love with you. More than ever, in fact. Think about it. He finally got the guts to tell you. He’s tired. But, Marty, I’m telling you this right now. You’ve either got to stop leading him on or tell him you love him. He’s not going to wait forever. You can’t keep him in reserve, making him your back-up plan. And, deep down, you know I’m right. You’re just scared.”

  The tears were flowing hot and steady. “I gotta go. I have that appointment with the shrink.”

  Charli walked out with me and waited while I locked up. “Marty, please. Don’t be mad. I simply think it’s time you know the truth and that you face it. I hope you’ll make the right decision. For you. We all love Tim. But we love you more.”

  I’d stopped crying, but was a complete wreck by the time I reached the psychologis
t’s office. It was a nice place, tucked away in the end of one of those office buildings designed to look like an old mansion. The waiting room was cozy, big plush chairs and an overstuffed sofa. I thumbed through a couple of magazines while I waited to go back into Dr. Frehling’s lair.

  She surprised me. I guess I was expecting a big, harsh-looking, German woman with a thick accent. Instead I saw a small, delicate woman in a pretty flowing purple dress. She smiled pleasantly and led me into her office.

  “Do I have to lie on the couch?” I asked.

  She smiled. “If you want to. But you can sit, if you prefer. Most people do.”

  I hunkered down in the corner of the green and brown plaid sofa, picked up one of the throw pillows, and hugged it to me. She lowered herself into a matching chair directly across from me.

  “Don’t be nervous,” she said. “I won’t bite. Why don’t you tell me what’s been happening. I know about the things I’ve read in the paper, but I’d like to hear your version.”

  I relaxed a little and launched into my story, telling her all about how I’d gotten mixed up with an abusive guy, letting him manipulate and control me, just because he was really good looking

  She talked to me for quite awhile about that and about my self-esteem issues, and about my getting mixed up with several murders.

  “The only good thing that’s come out of Sabrina’s death is that Mark Donavan and the Glenvar Bombers started that scholarship in her memory. Charli and I are going to donate a week’s worth of proceeds from the gift shop to the fund. As for me, I still feel like I let her down. I know I couldn’t have stopped what happened to her, but it’s like everyone that comes into my orbit is cursed. Like my bad luck is spreading.”

  That’s when I finally told the doctor about my actually seeing the three wicked sisters.

  “So that’s where I’m at,” I said. “I’m convinced that these Floozies of Fate are out to get me and everybody I come in contact with.”

  “You have the power to get rid of them, Marty,” the psychologist said. “All you have to do is imagine yourself capturing them and locking them away.”

  “And that will work?” I asked, the weensiest bit of skepticism sneaking into my voice.

  “Absolutely,” the woman’s puff of cottony white hair bobbed up and down.

  I closed my eyes and pictured miniature versions of the tricky trio, clad in their jester costumes and hats, buzzing around my head. In my imagination I’d reach out and grab one, but the other two would poke their fingers in their ears, stick out their tongues, and holler ‘nanny, nanny boo boo’ at me.

  “Nope. Not going to happen.” I opened my eyes and looked over at Dr. Frehling.

  “Okay then, why don’t you try going about it in a slightly different way?”

  I hugged the throw pillow a little tighter. “What do you have in mind?

  “Talk to them. Tell them you’d like to be friends with them. Maybe, if you do that, they’ll bring you good luck instead of bad.”

  I closed my eyes again. I felt foolish, but after a few minutes, I had a one-sided conversation with the Divas. Surprisingly, they stopped buzzing around and perched on the end of my finger. Then, I knew what they wanted. Knew exactly what I had to do to turn things around.

  I jumped up and tossed the throw pillow on the sofa. I couldn’t resist. I gave the therapist a big hug.

  “Thanks, doc. You can send me the bill. I’ve gotta go. I’ve got something really important to do.”

  I ran out of her office, hopped in the Mustang, and started the engine. Then, I turned it back off and sat there for a few minutes, trying to control my adrenaline. Finally, I calmed down, picked up the phone, and dialed. He answered on the third ring.

  “Hey, you,” he said. “Haven’t heard from you in a while.”

  “Yeah, well, just following your orders. Say, can you meet me at my new place? In about ten minutes? I need a huge favor.”

  “Sure. I just got out of the shower, so it might be fifteen. What’s up?”

  “There’s a dead mouse under the sink. I need you to take it out and bury it.”

  “Okay. Be there in a jif.”

  I smiled. “No rush. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

  The End

  Acknowledgments

  Writing a book is a scary proposition. It’s a lot less scary, though, when there are great friends and family members who are on the sidelines cheering you on. I’m so grateful to all of them for their love and support. There are a few who go above and beyond mere support, though. I’m especially grateful to:

  My “Radio Guy”, the fabulous Dale Bayless. Any errors about radio work are mine, not his.

  My “BETA” gals, Sherri Agee, Chastity Harden, Meredith Harper, and Donna Kelley,who provided invaluable assistance in helping me shape the final version of this book. They are all great friends as well as super duper editors. Thank you, ladies! Couldn’t have done it without you.

  My friends and colleagues, especially Jan, Chris, Tracy, Lisa, and Wendy.

  My family members, especially Terry, Aimee, Mike, Audrey, Jane, Mary, Carla, Sue, and the rest of the Siska, Marshall, Johnson, and Everett family.

  My daughter, Lindsey, to whom this book is dedicated, kept me going with hot chocolate and lots of texts. She’s not only a great kid, but also an amazing friend.

  My sons, Matt and Kyle, offered much support and lots of confidence in my abilities. They are such fine young men and I’m so proud to be their mom.

  Jim, my best friend and husband, never stops believing in me. He also came up with one of my favorite lines in the whole book. For that, I’m particularly grateful.

  Parker: yep, you’re still in there.

  I especially thank my Mom; mere words can’t express how much her support means. She’s always been there, never once wavering in her belief in me. Thanks, Mom.

  I know Dad is up there doing whatever he can to help out, too. As well as sending me the dimes.

  * * *

  The Jester’s hat gracing each chapter is from Open Clip Art Library openclipart.org and was contributed by the very talented Christian Plaza, aka Merlin2525. The book cover image is under a multi-use license from Canva.

  The Bimbos of Bane

  Doom Diva Mysteries: Book Four

  Sherry M. Siska

  Doomdiva Books

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2017 by Sherry M. Siska

  * * *

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  * * *

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locals or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  * * *

  Cover created with Canva. Photo rights under a multi-use license.

  * * *

  Paperback ISBN: SBN-13: 978-1982077402 ISBN-10: 1982077409

  Dedication

  For the

  Blind Vice Refugees (and Ted),

  and, even more so,

  for those who’ve had the courage to say

  #metoo

  and those still trying to find courage.

  1

  The fact that I knock on wood when I don’t want to jinx myself does not mean I’m superstitious. Not in the least. It’s just something I do because, well, actually, I don’t really know why I do it. It doesn’t matter, though, because it absolutely, positively does not mean I’m superstitious.

  Neither does the fact that, lately, I’ve maybe been a teensy bit more likely to pick up a penny if I see a heads-up one. Why shouldn’t I? After all, like my mom always says, a penny saved is better than a penny lost in a bush. Or something like that.

  And, so what if I happen
to have a couple of four-leaf clovers and an acorn or two stuck down in the bottom of my tote bag next to a fake rabbit’s foot, the longer piece of a broken wishbone, and a really good fortune I found in a cookie from Taipei Restaurant? It’s not like I believe in good luck charms or magic or whatever. Nope, their presence simply means I’m being cautious. You’d be cautious too if you’d faced the run of bad luck I’ve dealt with during the past couple of years. I mean, sure, things have been going great recently, but there’s no sense in tempting Fate. Or, for that matter those other Bimbos of Bane, Lady Luck, and Destiny. I know because I have, as the saying goes, been there, done that, and got the industrial-sized pack of tee shirts!

  Honestly, I thought I was all done with the crafty crew back in the summer. After having battled with them for months on end, sitting by helplessly while they wreaked unending mayhem and mischief in my life, I finally broke down and saw a shrink. She managed to convince me that they weren’t really out to get me. That, in fact, they were just trying to help me follow the right path. Which is exactly what I have been attempting to do ever since. Since that day with the good doctor, I’ve practically been a paragon of righteous living. I’ve kept my nose to the grindstone, my feet planted firmly on the ground, and my thoughts clean and pure. Well, mostly pure. I am in a new relationship with a really hot guy, after all.

  Which is part of the problem. After a particularly traumatic experience, I finally owned up to the fact that I am madly, passionately in love with the guy who’s been my best friend since we were tiny tots. The good news is that he loves me back. We’ve been cautiously feeling our way along as we hammer out a new way of being with each other, and it is going great. Well, was going great. So great, in fact, that I couldn’t help but worry that something was going to go wrong. Now, I don’t know if it was my being deliriously happy that did it, or if it was my constant worrying, but, somehow, I managed to, as Mom says, “borrow trouble”. Just when I thought the Doom Divas had moved on to some other poor sap, there they were, all fired up and back on the prowl again. And this time, they dragged me so far down into the abyss, I still haven’t managed to completely find my way back out.