A sudden headache bloomed…foggy sensations of a violent scene unfolding…a dream? A remembered scene from a disturbing movie? Had I heard Daniel being killed?
Or had I done it?
I walked to my car on elastic legs and drove to the office, trying on the idea of murdering Daniel like I would a hat, moving it from side to side, and ultimately deciding it was all wrong.
Still, the possibility rendered me numb. I kept picturing Daniel lying on my couch, blood everywhere, but it was like sorting through childhood memories. Did I remember it because I’d been there when it happened, or did I think I remembered it because I’d seen a picture after the fact?
Breathless, I called Mrs. Bingham’s cousin. (The Crime Scene Clean Queen, Refer us and Get Some Green!) Cousin Vivian was the chatty sort, with a vivacious voice that had me imagining a woman in white capri pants and a tiara removing blood from my upholstery while she yakked with her kids on her cell phone. She’d been expecting me to call, she said, and went over the options. She could visit the “site” and give me an estimate, or if it was just a matter of blood, she could go ahead and clean it on the spot. My dwellers insurance would pay for it. She would get the key from the superintendent and be finished before I got home. The only question was what kind of free air freshener I wanted.
I opted for “ocean breeze,” in honor of all the times Daniel had promised to take me somewhere exotic. (Strangely, she didn’t offer “parfum de takeout and sleepover.”)
I spent the rest of the day walking into corners of furniture and moving papers around on my desk. Detective Salyers moved in and out of my line of vision, talking to everyone who sat in the vicinity of my office, while scrupulously avoiding me. She spent an inordinate amount of time with Julie the intern, the woman who had inferred that Leora and I were friends. Grant called me twice. I didn’t answer because I was afraid I might confess, and he didn’t leave a message. I was still sifting through the images in my head, hoping to explain them away. I wanted to wait until I saw my apartment before deciding whether or not to go back to Grant’s. Maybe returning to the scene of the crime would help to reconcile some of these jagged feelings.
Then I frowned…Didn’t psychopaths feel compelled to return to the scene of the crime?
***
IF NOT FOR THE ocean breeze air freshener, one wouldn’t have known anything gruesome had taken place in my living room. I stood looking down at the striped sofa and patterned area rug, trying to find shadows of Daniel’s blood, like a gruesome game. All traces of him had been removed. I wondered vaguely as I stared at Vivian’s business card on my kitchen counter if she could somehow remove the ugly images from my head. I sprawled on my bed and closed my eyes, trying to remember someone sneaking past my bedroom. Leora? Eric?
Or was I repressing memories of doing something so horrible I couldn’t bring myself to remember it? I had the capacity to hurt people—take Grant, for instance.
My doorbell rang, and when I looked through the peephole, I had a sense of déjà vu. The last time I’d looked through the peephole, Daniel had been standing on the other side.
This time it was Grant.
Had I conjured him up simply by thinking about him?
I swung open the door and knew instantly something was wrong. His pallor was gray, his mouth pinched.
“Grant? How did you know I was here?”
“I took a chance and saw your car in the parking lot.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Leora Painter has been arrested and charged with Hale’s murder.”
I went limp and leaned into him. “But that’s great news.”
“Not really. She admits she was in your apartment the night before last, but insists Daniel was dead when she got here. She passed a polygraph, and…”
“And?”
“And the police are on their way. They’re going to arrest you, too, Renni.”
I leaned harder. “No.”
“I’m here for you,” he murmured into my hair. I could feel his hands shaking on my shoulders. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
I froze. Something in the tone of his voice, in his body language, set off sirens in my head. Disparate events converged: the fact that Grant had seen me with Daniel…had been so quick to come to my defense…that the house had been eerily ready for my return…that I’d been shown the error of leaving him.
I pulled back, alarmed that he’d somehow maneuvered his way inside the doorway. “How did you get into the building just now?”
“I followed one of your neighbors inside.”
Had he been following me? Watching me? “How did you know the man you saw me with at the restaurant was Daniel, was the same man who was killed?”
“I just assumed it was the same man.”
The knives…one of the few household things I’d taken with me when I’d left Grant. Had he found it especially ironic to use one of them to kill Daniel? I’d wondered what it would feel like to have someone commit murder for me, and the prospect stalled my vital signs.
“Renni, are you okay?”
“Get away from me!” I stumbled backward into the hallway, panic choking me.
***
MRS. BINGHAM was emerging from her apartment, holding a steaming covered casserole dish and heading for Mr. McFelty’s door. I flung myself in her direction. When she saw me, she lit up like a marquee.
“How are you, dear? Vivian said your place cleaned up beautifully.”
“Mrs. Bingham, I know who killed Daniel. The police are on their way.”
She patted me with her free hand. “Don’t worry, dear. The man deserved to die.”
Grant rushed up behind me and I positioned myself between them, equally confused and repelled. “What?”
“A jury will never convict me,” Mrs. Bingham said matter-of-factly. “The man was a nuisance, just like the fellow who lived upstairs, blasting his music at all hours. Poor Mr. McFelty works three jobs and he needs his sleep. I thought you got rid of him, but then he showed up again, shouting like a maniac. Young people have no respect, but a jury will understand.”
“How…how did you get inside my apartment?” I asked.
“I lifted a master key from the super once when I delivered a green bean casserole.”
While I processed her inexplicable confession, Grant stepped in front of me and eyed Mrs. Bingham’s casserole as if it contained a grenade. “You killed Daniel Hale because he made too much noise?”
“And the man who lived upstairs,” I added, horrified. “She shot him.”
Mrs. Bingham made a face. “That was ugly, though. I used a knife this time. Less mess.”
“For the cleaning service,” I murmured.
She smiled. “Vivian gives me a two hundred dollar referral fee. That’s a lot of money for someone on a fixed income.”
***
AFTER THE POLICE led Mrs. Bingham away, Detective Salyers filled in the holes. The intern Julie had confessed to using my PDA to send Leora the message to keep both of us busy while she and Daniel went to a hotel for “lunch.” Leora suspected he was cheating on her, and followed him when he dropped her off after the charity dinner. Poised for a confrontation, she’d used Daniel’s key to enter my apartment, found him on the couch, and picked up the bookend to kill him. When she realized he was already dead, she left in a panic, knowing she couldn’t report it without incriminating herself.
It seemed Daniel had been doomed to die that night.
After Salyers left, I sat in the hallway cradling Mrs. Bingham’s casserole in the woman’s perennial oven mitts—the reason she hadn’t left fingerprints in my apartment. Grant sat down next to me, and I burst into tears.
“It’s okay now,” he soothed, putting his arm around my shoulders.
“I’m sorry I even thought you could commit murder, Grant.”
“I’m sorry I thought the same about you. Besides, you were right to be suspicious. I was acting…strange.” He made a rueful noise in his throat.
“I’m going to sell the house. That’s why I finally did all the things to it you’d always wanted me to do.”
“You’re moving?”
“Moving, and moving on. I gave my notice at the firm.”
I was suddenly concerned. “Are you dying?”
He laughed. “No. I owe you an apology, Renni. I let you shoulder the blame for ending our marriage, when I was the one who didn’t have the guts to tell you how trapped I felt.”
“You, too?”
Grant nodded. “I loved you. I still do. But the pressure of being a husband, it changed me. Suffocated me.”
It was my turn to laugh. “Me, too.”
He smiled and shook his head. “What a pair we are.”
“What did you mean by moving on?”
“I bought a sailboat. She’s sea-worthy. I was thinking of taking a few months to explore the east coast.”
I looked up at him with new eyes. “Did I ever tell you I used to sail with my dad?”
“No,” he said, picking up a lock of my hair. “One of many conversations we should’ve had.”
And would.
The End
A note from the author
Thank you so very much for taking the time to read the books in my boxed set of humorous romantic mysteries! I hope you enjoyed them.
If you liked the stories in LOVE CAN BE MURDER and feel inclined to leave an Amazon review, I would appreciate it very much.
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Also, although I can’t count the times this book has been edited and proofed (this one especially, which is so long!), I and my helpers are human, so if you do spot a typo, please email me at [email protected] to let me know. Thanks again for your time and interest, and for telling your friends about my books. If you’d like to know more about some of my other books connected to the books in this collection, please scroll ahead to the next section.
Happy reading!
Stephanie Bond
Other works by Stephanie Bond
If you enjoyed PARTY CRASHERS, you might enjoy the books in the BODY MOVERS series, which feature Carlotta Wren and her brother Wesley as they take on an interesting second job! The first six books in the BODY MOVERS series are published by Mira books and are available at all online book retailers. I also released a sequel novella titled 6 ½ BODY PARTS:
"This series was recommended to me by someone in one of my yahoo groups. I bought them for my Kindle, but due to the huge to be read pile, it was a while before I read them. And when I started, I was hooked. Stephanie Bond is an amazing writer. The Plum series books read like outlines, but the Body Movers series has the full meat and potatoes." —Kindle reader S. Dunham
Click here to download a sample or to order 6 ½ BODY PARTS from Amazon!
If you enjoyed reading IN DEEP VOODOO, you might like the sequel, VOODOO OR DIE, where the appearance of another voodoo doll in the small town of Mojo, Louisiana results in another untimely demise!
"An entertaining tale with twists and turns that will keep readers guessing until the very end."
—Romance Reviews Today
"Ms. Bond's characters come to life in this tense, funny, and passionate story. Reading her books always makes you smile, and this is no exception." —Huntress Reviews
Click here to download a sample or to order VOODOO OR DIE from Amazon!
If you enjoyed GOT YOUR NUMBER, you might be interested in the nonfiction short companion piece GET A LIFE! 8 STEPS TO CREATE YOUR OWN LIFE LIST. This brief how-to will show you how to create a customized life list on your own, or with family and friends!
"I just read this book while fixing supper and, as a result, made a rudimentary life list. Even better? Already started checking off some things that had been nagging at me for a while. Bond's enthusiasm simply bubbles up through the book. I plan on going through the steps with my husband, too, and I love the suggestion of sharing Life Lists at New Year's and making those lists with friends since friends can often sometimes see things about us that we ourselves can't see." –Kindle reader, S. Kilpatrick
Click here to download a sample or to order GET A LIFE! 8 STEPS TO CREATE YOUR OWN LIFE LIST from Amazon!
About the Author
Stephanie Bond was five years deep into a corporate career in computer programming and pursuing an MBA at night when an instructor remarked she had a flair for writing and suggested she submit material to academic journals. But Stephanie was more interested in writing fiction—more specifically, romance and mystery novels. After writing in her spare time for two years, she sold her first manuscript, a romantic comedy, to Harlequin Books. After selling ten additional projects to two publishers, she left her corporate job to write fiction full-time. To-date, Stephanie has more than sixty published novels to her name, including the popular BODY MOVERS humorous mystery series. Look for the TWO GUYS DETECTIVE AGENCY series beginning in 2013. For more information on all of her books, visit www.stephaniebond.com .
Copyright information
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Party Crashers Copyright 2004, 2011 by Stephanie Bond, Inc. All rights reserved.
In Deep Voodoo, Copyright 2005, 2011 by Stephanie Bond, Inc. All rights reserved.
Got Your Number, Copyright 2001, 2011 by Stephanie Bond, Inc. All rights reserved.
“Bump in the Night” Copyright 2012 by Stephanie Bond, Inc. All rights reserved.
Cover by Andrew Brown at clicktwicedesign.com
Love Can Be Murder (boxed set of humorous mysteries) Page 85
