Bedpans, Teapots and Corpses (A Maggie and Irene Cozy Mystery Book 1)

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Bedpans, Teapots and Corpses (A Maggie and Irene Cozy Mystery Book 1) Page 17

by Kitty Margo


  “About what?”

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. “About the fact that I dumped a few chemicals in Nate Buchanan’s pond and all of his fish died?”

  What? “You were responsible for that?”

  “Yes, but believe me, that wasn’t my intention.” He actually sounded repentant. “I have nothing against marine life. I just had all these left over chemicals to dispose of after making the bomb and I wasn’t… thinking rationally at the time.”

  Wait! Bomb? Holy shit! It suddenly dawned on me what he was referring to. “You planted the bomb that blew up Pine View Chemicals?”

  He smirked and actually had the audacity to grin. “Guilty as charged.”

  “How could you do that?” I cried, totally appalled by his stunning confession. “How could you kill a man in cold blood?”

  “Blakely Owens deserved to die,” he spat. “I gave him almost twenty years of my life, for nothing. He tossed me out on the street without so much as a goodbye after I had poured my blood and sweat into his company. Hell, I helped make him what he is today.” He snickered cruelly. “Or was.”

  I couldn’t even wrap my mind around the words that were coming out of his gorgeous mouth. “Are you telling me that Blakely Owens fired you, so you planted the bomb that blew up the chemical plant?”

  “Yes, that would be an accurate assessment. Although, it was much more detailed than that. You have no idea the effort required in the making of a bomb, let alone the difficulty involved with carrying it into a building and setting the timer without being noticed.” He chuckled. “It’s a good thing I knew where all the hidden cameras were in the lobby.”

  I was having a hard time believing that someone could be so purely evil as to kill another human being without feeling any remorse whatsoever. And here Maggie and I were alone with him. “For crying out loud, why didn’t you just go out and find another job like any other person of reasonable intelligence would have done?”

  “It was the principle of the matter.” He raised the gun and placed the end of the barrel against the hollow in my throat. “Getting fired from a job you have held for almost two decades doesn’t exactly make a resume sparkle.”

  “Oh, I get it now.” Everything suddenly fell into place. “You saw us at the pond and suspected that we were on to you?”

  “Yes, and Maggie verified my suspicion when she came skipping up the hill asking to borrow a metal container. Actually, it all turned out perfectly. I couldn’t have planned it better.” His gaze held mine, and the cold, calculating gleam in his eyes caused a shiver to race down my spine. “I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure it out on your own, so you must know that I can’t risk either of you leaving here alive.”

  What could I possible do to persuade him that Maggie and I were not a threat to him? I had worked my ass off all my life and I finally had a cushy job. Plus, retirement was right around the corner. No way in hell was I going down without a fight.

  I lowered my voice, trying to sound cordial and exercise a set of feminine wiles that had rusted over years ago. “Patrick, it doesn’t have to be this way.”

  “Actually, I’m afraid it does.”

  “What if I promised not to breath a single word about any of this to a living soul?”

  “I wouldn’t believe you.”

  If only Natalie were here. Why did his grandparents have to plant those stupid sage bushes?

  Think, Irene. Think!

  But I didn’t get a chance, because a Mack truck landed on the back of my head just before the floor jumped up to greet me.

  Chapter Thirty Five

  Maggie

  My head felt like someone had used it as a bongo drum to play the song Wipeout using a sledgehammer instead of drumsticks. Each beat of my heart brought with it a fresh volley of pain and when I looked at the bare light bulb hanging by a wire from one of the ceiling rafters, a new wave of agony bounced around behind my eyeballs.

  Irene and I were both lying on a dirt floor in what I presumed was a cellar, next to a 55 gallon drum that was clearly marked HAZARDOUS CHEMICALS. Irene was still unconscious, but moaning with every breath.

  “Irene,” I whispered. “Wake up.”

  “What?” she mumbled. “My head hurts like one of those six hundred pound men on TLC took tap dancing lessons on it. Do you have any Tylenol?”

  “In my purse, but it’s in the car. At least I hope it’s still there and some hoodlum hasn’t run off with my credit cards.”

  “What happened to us?”

  “I don’t know.” I rubbed the back of my head and my hand came back sticky, and red. “All I remember is running up the hill because Patrick’s grandmother was having a heart attack.”

  “There is no grandmother,” Irene informed me. “It was a lie manufactured by Patrick to get us up here.”

  What was she rambling on about now? “Why would he need to get us up here?”

  “To kill us,” she stated bluntly. “I don’t see any reason in pussyfooting around the truth to spare your feelings. That’s his plan.”

  “What!” I shrieked. “Irene Spenser, you must be talking out of your head? Why would that sweet man want to kill us?”

  She motioned toward the drum. “Because he dumped the chemicals, from that drum I assume, into the pond and killed Nate’s fish.”

  “I think maybe you have inhaled too many hazardous fumes.”

  “The drum is empty.” She rolled over onto her back and stretched out her legs. “I know you don’t want to accept the truth about lover boy, but he used the chemicals to make the bomb that blew up the chemical plant.”

  “Hold up! Patrick Jackson blew up the chemical plant? Now that’s just plain crazy talk, Irene. The blow to your head must be causing you to hallucinate.”

  “He confessed everything to me. Right before he told me that we knew too much and he would have to kill us.”

  She seemed so serious. Did he really intend to kill us? “But he seemed so… nice.”

  “That man is a prime example of looks being deceiving.”

  That’s why I couldn’t remember anything after he had invited me inside. “What are we going to do, Irene?” Wait. “Where’s Natalie? She can go for help.”

  “I’m afraid not. There is an entire garden of sage planted beside the house, so Natalie flew off in excruciating pain.”

  “So, there is no one to help us, and no one knows we are here?” This could not really be happening. I had to be dreaming. “It looks like we are up shit creek without a paddle.”

  “Natalie knows we are here.”

  “And no one can hear her when she talks except us.”

  “Ain’t that a hell of a note. I can see the headlines now. Maggie Moore and Irene Spenser found dead on a cellar floor for sticking their noses where they didn’t belong.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  I tried to wiggle my hands and couldn’t. “He meant business when he tied these ropes, didn’t he, Irene? I can’t even feel my fingers.”

  “Why did he even bother to tie our hands and feet. I mean we are in a cellar with only one way out. Surely he could have just secured the door at the top of the stairs.”

  Just then the door swung open and Patrick came waltzing down the stairs. Had he been listening the entire time? “How are you ladies doing?” he asked as though he was greeting us at a garden social. “I hope I didn’t hit you too hard, but I knew you would put up a fight if I didn’t.” He looked at Irene and winked. “Especially you, you little wildcat.”

  “Go directly to hell,” she spat. “I can’t wait until our boys find out how you have manhandled us and beat the stupidity out of you.”

  He gasped and put an hand to his heart. “Well, I’m both shocked and appalled by your threats and unladylike language.” He had the nerve to grin. “Such harsh words coming from such a fine, upstanding pillar of the community.”

  “That’s Maggie,” Irene stated. “You have us confused. I live in a trailer park on the outskirts of town.
She’s the pillar.”

  “Forgive me. I apologize for my error.” He bowed toward each of us. “At any rate, I am going to run down to the hollow for a few hours and… unwind.”

  I knew exactly how one went about unwinding there. I heard the sirens blasting by my house as EMT’s were called to the hollow at least once a week to deal with a drug overdose.

  “And being the gentleman that I am, I’m going to swing through a drive through and bring you each a meal. What would you like?”

  I was about to ask for a Big Mac from McDonald’s when Irene said, “For you to drop dead exactly where you stand.”

  Wow! I have never seen her so mad.

  Patrick actually chuckled. “Since that is highly unlikely, what would be your second choice?”

  “For you to get ran over by a turkey truck on your way out the door.” She was certainly not in the mood to be trifled with.

  “Damn! You’re vicious, lady. But be careful what you wish for. There’s a turkey farm right down the road.”

  “I know.”

  Now I, unlike Irene, have never been one to cut off my nose to spite my face. It stands to reason that Patrick would have to untie our hands to allow us to eat, and we would have a much better chance of escaping if our hands were free. So chill out, Irene. Don’t you know you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar? “I’ll take a Big Mac if the offer still stands.” I felt Irene’s eyes boring into the side of my face as I consorted with the enemy. Oh, boy. If looks could kill I would be taking a dirt nap for sure.

  “What about you, Irene?” he asked sweetly.

  “For your balls to be in a vise and my hand to be turning the handle.”

  “Just get her a grilled chicken sandwich with fries.” I smiled. “Sometimes she can be a bit bullheaded.”

  He looked at Irene and I swear there was sympathy in his eyes. “I understand and I’m sure these are trying times for both of you, but let’s focus on making the best of a bad situation, shall we?”

  Irene’s face was beet red. I knew she was about to lose it. “At the risk of repeating myself, fuck off loser.”

  I could tell by the way his eyes narrowed that she had struck a nerve.

  “Who are you calling a loser?” he snarled.

  “You,” she spat vehemently. “You blew up a building and killed an innocent man. So from now on you will be lumped with the likes of Eric Rudolph, Timothy McVeigh and all the other cowards who hid behind a bomb to do their dirty work. I ask you, who, besides a loser, would do something so incredibly stupid. I mean don’t you watch the news, they all eventually get caught. It’s only a matter of time before you will be behind bars and go down in history as one of the stupidest men ever.” Suddenly Irene’s face split into an evil grin. “And from what I hear, pretty boys like you don’t fare too well in prison with a bunch of horny old men.”

  He flinched and I knew she had struck a second nerve, but he covered it well.

  “I don’t think I will be going to prison. After I bury this drum in the woods, and dispose of your bodies, there won’t be a trace of evidence left on my property.”

  “Aren’t you forgetting about the pond filled with dead fish and bubbling green liquid,” she smirked.

  He winked. “But, you see, that isn’t my property.”

  It was Nate Buchanan’s property.

  “So you ladies behave and I’ll be back in a few hours with your food.”

  Then he turned without another word and walked back up the stairs, before I could tell him just how badly I needed to go to the bathroom.

  Chapter Thirty Six

  Maggie

  I was wiggling like a worm in hot ashes I had to pee so bad, and Lord knows I could eat a cigarette if I could get my hands on one. Patrick had taken mine and Irene’s phone, cigarettes, and my lighter out of my pocket. I still couldn’t figure out how in the world somebody that damn handsome could be so evil? But I couldn’t waste time thinking about it now, I had bigger fish to fry. Like untying these ropes and getting the hell out of this cellar. But Lord have mercy my kidneys were giving me a fit. “Just so you know, I’m going to die if I don’t soon get to pee, Irene.”

  “Just go ahead and pee. It’s a dirt floor, so it will soak right in.”

  I just looked at her. “Have you lost your ever loving mind. I’m not going to be wearing muddy britches when Patrick comes back.”

  Irene inhaled sharply, cutting her eyes at me. “Maggie Moore, are you actually attracted to that killer? Who gives a flying flip how you look when he comes back! You had better be hoping that he doesn’t return, since he intends to kill us both when he does.”

  “This is all just so hard to believe. He just strikes me as being such a… gentleman.”

  “Well, he is anything but, so just accept it and move on. Can you get up?”

  Since my hands were tied behind my back, I couldn’t use them to push myself up. Rolling to my back almost pulled my shoulders out of their sockets, but I was able to sit up. However, poor Irene doesn’t do sit ups like I do every morning, so I was afraid she would struggle to come to an upright position. I was right. It wasn’t happening.

  I butt scooted until I was beside her. Next I turned sideways and put my tied feet under her head and lifted until she was able to come to a sitting position.

  She breathed a deep sigh of relief. “That feels so much better, but my shoulders are throbbing from being pulled back in this unnatural position. What about yours?”

  “Every part of my body aches. But, Irene, I really, really have to pee.”

  “For crying out loud, let it rip, Maggie, so we can focus on something besides your kidneys and get out of here before Patrick returns.”

  The girl can be so insensitive at times! “Okay, let’s take an inventory of our surroundings. We need something sharp to cut through these ropes.”

  We both peered around the cellar and didn’t see a solitary sharp object. “He probably removed them while we were knocked out. This might not be his first rodeo.”

  “So, we can’t cut through the ropes. What’s our next option. Think, Maggie, this kind of scenario happens all the time in the movies.”

  “But in the movies there is always a sharp object conveniently lying around to saw through the ropes,” Irene reminded me.

  “True. What about the acid in the drum? Do you think we could tip it over and let the acid drip on the rope?”

  “You know. That just might work. It can’t hurt to try.”

  Getting to my feet was the next obstacle to overcome. I accomplished it by backing up against the wall and pushing with my heels until I could slowly inch my way up. Once I was upright, I hopped over to stand over the drum. Thankfully, it was open. Patrick hadn’t bothered to cap it.

  “If you tip the drum over, the dirt is going to soak up the liquid,” Irene advised.

  “That’s true. We need some type of plastic to put down.”

  Irene looked around until she spied something she thought might be useful. “There’s a tarp covering something in the corner. Will that do?”

  “That should work. If I can get to it.” I hobbled across the floor until I could touch the tarp. Now how could I get the tarp over to the drum? “Irene, scoot over here. We’ll have to lie down on our backs and pull the tarp over to the drum with our feet.

  “This is so unbelievably nasty,” she groaned a few minutes later as we pushed our upper bodies across the dirt floor and drug the tarp slowly along with our feet.

  “Just keep moving.”

  We were almost there when Irene’s ear piercing screams filled the cellar. “Oh, my God! Get me out of here! Oh, my God!! Maggie! Oh, my God!”

  “What?” I cried, expecting to see a copperhead coiled up where the tarp had been. “Irene, calm down! What do you see?”

  “Look!”

  I followed her gaze and saw Natalie’s blank eyes staring back at me from inside a large glass jar. “Oh my God! He killed Natalie!”

  Poor Natalie�
�s head had been cut off and placed inside one of those really old pickling jars and filled with some type of liquid. Probably to preserve it. The tarp had been tossed over the jar.

  Irene’s horrifying screams were about to deafen me. “Please, stop screaming, Irene. It will be okay. We just saw her remember. Natalie is okay, honey. That’s just her… head.”

  Tears were flowing down Irene’s cheeks in rivulets. “Let’s just finish this and get out of here, Maggie. I can’t take much more.”

  We finally tugged the tarp to the dirt in front of the barrel. “Now let’s go behind the drum so none of the chemicals can splash on us. God only knows what’s in this drum.”

  “Okay,” she sniffled.

  We both had to struggle through the process of getting to our feet again, but we made it. “Okay, help me push the drum over with your shoulder.”

  We leaned in and tipped it over. There wasn’t much liquid left inside, but a few ounces dripped out onto the tarp and immediately started melting a hole in it. “You need to hurry, Maggie, before the dirt soaks all of it up!”

  I hopped over in front of the drum and sat with my back to the spill. God, I hope my hands don’t touch the acid. “Here goes nothing. Tell me when my hands get close to the spill, Irene.”

  “Keep going. Just a little further. You only need the knot to soak up the acid. If the knot dissolves you can unwrap the rest.”

  “How much farther?” I was slowly inching backward, utterly terrified of the acid dissolving my hands.

  “Stop!” she shouted, almost stopping my heart. “The knot is in the acid. Let it soak in it a few minutes. Everything looks perfect.”

  “What’s happening?” I asked seconds later.

  “Well, it’s starting to smoke so I guess that’s a good sign. Try pulling your hands apart and see what happens.”

  I tugged and the rope snapped free. “Hallelujah!” I shouted, snatching the remnants off my hands. “We’re free!”

 

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