by Kelly Irvin
“Nothing. Whole wheat bagels with that chipotle cream cheese sound good. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“I love you.”
“Ditto.”
“What?”
She hung up. “How did you get in?”
The gun left Peanuts’s head. Its barrel pointed at Nina. Liz dropped Peanuts. He landed on his feet and skittered under the table. She tugged keys from her pocket. Keys on a UT Longhorns key chain. She swung them back and forth so they made a jiggly tune. “I snagged these on the way out the door.”
Liz jerked her head toward the cellar door. “Open it.”
“There’s no wine down there anymore. We use it for storage of canned goods and paper goods.”
“Go.”
Nina tore her gaze from the gun. She peered over Liz’s shoulder. “Where are Hudson and Emma? Do they know what you’re doing?”
“Don’t be stupid. I put them on a bus back to the motel. They know how to take care of themselves. They know better than to ask questions.” She took a step forward. Her sneakers squeaked on the tile. “They just don’t know when to shut up.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“You couldn’t leave it alone. You had to ask twenty questions. They’re stupid, stupid kids who open their mouths and spew information.”
“I don’t care that you lied. Okay, I care. But it doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to a certain detective. He asked me the same questions you did. I lied to him. Now you know.”
“You lied to the police.” Not a smart thing to do. “And you’re afraid I’ll tell him.”
“I know you will. In a heartbeat. Because you’re a good little girl. I’m proud of that, you know. I know I didn’t have anything to do with it, but still. You’re a good girl.”
“Go on, say it. You killed your brother.”
Liz’s smile said it all. Nina’s stomach lurched. She grabbed the doorknob to keep from falling. Blackness flowed, then ebbed. Purple lights flashed. No panic attack. Not now, not now.
“You killed Daddy? Why? Why kill him?”
“He’s not your daddy.” Liz jabbed Nina in the ribs. The physical pain didn’t touch the depth of the agony of knowing Liz killed her own brother. “Stop stalling. Open the door.”
Her throat tight with tears she refused to shed, Nina gritted her teeth and did as she was told.
God, please. Please. Don’t let her do this to Aaron. Please don’t let Grace or Jan find me dead in the basement. Or Brooklyn.
Better her dead than Aaron or the girls. He’s a good man. God, give him a good life, please. Help him find love again.
She eased the door open. The musky scent of dust and humidity wafted from below.
A second later a shove sent her sailing into the darkness.
37
Pain.
Nina gasped. She curled into a fetal position. Her hip hurt. Her ribs. Her head.
Everything hurt.
A smell. The stench of cheap wine and mustiness enveloped her. Her stomach rocked. She moaned. Get up. Get up. Move. Now. Nobody gets to lie here and die.
She forced her eyes open. Darkness.
The cellar.
Then a sliver of light. No, a flicker. A candle.
Nina raised her head. Pain exploded behind her ear. She tried to sit up. More pain throbbed in her arm. She stifled another moan.
“Sorry. I was hoping the fall would take care of business and we wouldn’t be sitting here now.” Liz crouched on the floor next to a cluster of candles on old saucers. Tiny flames barely illuminated the corner where she huddled, gun in her hand, a few feet from where Nina lay at the foot of the wooden stairs leading from the kitchen to the cellar. “You shouldn’t have said anything about me drinking. It’s your fault. You sounded just like him. Just like them. I’ve had enough of that stuffed in my craw to last me a lifetime.”
“Why didn’t you shoot me then?” Nina inhaled a ragged breath. “Why push me down the stairs?”
“Turns out it’s harder to kill your own daughter than a person would think.” She chuckled, a bitter sound that reverberated against the thick cement walls.
Her meaning hit Nina with the force of a cannon ball. “Yet you killed your own brother.”
“It was his fault. Mr. High and Mighty.” Liz laughed so hard she snorted, which only made her laugh more. “I wanted to come home. I wanted my share of the money Mom and Dad left when they died. He owed it to me. It was mine. I thought seeing his niece and nephew playing in the park where we used to play when we were kids would soften him up. He loved the paddleboats and the sky tram and the carousel at Brackenridge Park when we were kids. Mom used to take us there. Now they’re all gone, of course. The kids fed the ducks, though. They wanted to go to the zoo, but who wants to pay those prices to look at animals?”
Money. This was about money.
She rambled on, the flames making dark shadows on her angular face. Nina eased into a seated position. Pain tore through her chest. Her breath caught. Broken ribs? The talking was good. It bought her time. Again. “He would’ve paid, if you’d asked. Dad liked the zoo. He liked the hippo. And the giraffes. The giraffes are Jan’s favorite. Brooklyn wants to be a veterinarian.”
“Too bad I won’t meet her. He called me Dizzy Lizzy, you know.” A match flared, revealing her frown. The smell of phosphorus and tobacco filled the air. The end of the cigarette glowed and bobbed. “He shouldn’t have done that.”
“He could be mean.” Trying to remember when she’d last been in the cellar, Nina scanned the darkness without moving. Shelves of canned goods lined a far wall. Dad had bordered on being a prepper. He kept extra bottled water, paper goods, and other staples from Costco in the cellar, once the home to his father’s renowned wine collection. A collection Dad never revived after Liz’s stints in rehab and his parents’ deaths. “It was his way or the highway.”
“But not to his little princesses.”
“He was strict.” No baseball bats. No weapons. Toilet paper and baby wipes. “He wanted what he thought was best for us.”
“He shouldn’t have gotten all righteous with me. How could I expect him to raise two more of my kids? Only he didn’t call them kids. He knew how to hit under the belt. He got plenty nasty with me. Mr. Self-Righteous Christian. Just like Mom and Dad. He deserved what he got.”
Dad had a righteous streak. In the end it had killed him. He lied, cheated, deceived, and gambled away his marriage and his family. But his hypocrisy killed him. God, can You forgive him? He lost his way. I’m so sorry he lost his way.
And then his sister killed him before he had a chance to find it.
“You killed him over money?”
“I didn’t come here to kill him. I came here to reason with him, but he made me so mad, I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to shut him up so I shut him up for good.”
“How did you do it? Get in the house and out without being seen?”
“The same way I did as a kid.” Liz waved the gun. It made bizarre shadows dance on the wall behind her, reminding Nina of the games they used to play while camping in a tent in the backyard. “I came through the back entrance to the cellar.”
“It’s been sealed up for years.”
“So you thought. So Geoffrey thought. This was my favorite place to hide as a kid. Where do you think I got my first taste of wine? I used to hide my pot stash down here and my cigs. It was perfect. Quiet. I could go upstairs stoned out of my mind and they never even noticed. Good times.”
Keep her talking. “Where did you get the gun?”
“Stole it off my ex Joel.”
“Were you married? Is he Hudson and Emma’s father?”
“No to both questions. I thought about marrying him. Not that he ever asked. I thought he was a keeper at first. He always had money in his pocket and he didn’t mind that I had two kids. Turns out he earned his money by robbing gas stations and convenience stores.” She patted the gun and cackled. “Using this gun. After I found
out, I took the proceeds from his last job and this gun and got out of Dodge. It was a nice little nest egg until I could get Geoff to ante up. It’s not like he could report the theft to the police.”
“Don’t do this. Just leave me here and disappear. I won’t tell anyone.”
“And let you have what should’ve been mine? You’re crazy.”
“You’ll never have it now.”
“So. Neither will you.”
Liz was the insane one. She could plead insanity and get the help she needed. “I know Detective King. I can call him. You can turn yourself in. They’ll get you some help.”
“I’m not going to jail. No way. What do you think rehab was like? Like jail. I ain’t doing that again.”
“What about Hudson and Emma? Don’t do this to them. How can you kill their half sister? What kind of mother does that?”
“Just shut up, shut up.” The cigarette dangling from her lip, Liz stood and staggered toward Nina. “I’ll leave here just like I did after I killed Mr. Hoity-Toity Judge. Slip away. Nobody has to know. I’ll be here to comfort Jannie and Grace. They’ll welcome Hudson and Emma to the family. We’ll be one big, happy family again. Before they know it, I’ll control all that money that should’ve been mine to start with.”
“You’ll get caught. They’ll figure it out. Aaron will never let it go. If you leave, disappear. I’ll take care of Hudson and Emma. Both of them. I have the means to do it. Please, Liz, let me take care of them.”
“I wish I could. You grew up good. A decent human being. Better than Geoffrey.” She edged closer until she stood at the bottom of the stairs. “It’s too late for that.”
Liz raised the gun.
“Don’t.”
The door opened. Liz whirled. She fired.
Aaron tumbled down the stairs.
38
Nina hurled herself at Liz. Their bodies collided.
Liz’s head snapped back. She hit the cement floor. The gun went off again. The noise exploded in Nina’s left ear.
An acrid smell like fireworks exploding burned her nose for a second. Clanging reverberated inside her head. Chunks of ceiling descended. Dust burned her eyes.
No time to think. No time to mourn. No time to fear. “You shot him, you shot Aaron.”
Grunts met the hurled accusation. Followed by a stream of obscenities so vile they soiled the air.
Half blinded, Nina grabbed at the gun. They wrestled and writhed on the floor.
One of the candles tipped over. Hot wax touched Liz’s face. She screamed again. More obscenities. Liz was old and weakened by debauchery. Nina had youth and muscle on her side, but her injuries shackled her.
She smacked Liz’s arm against the floor again and again.
The gun skittered across the floor. She nailed Liz’s arms to the floor with her knees and hands.
Liz ceased to struggle. She began to cry big, ugly sobs.
“I’m not hit.” Aaron’s hoarse voice gasped in the semidarkness. “I’m here. Are you hurt?”
Same song. Second verse. Or was it the third time?
“Aaron, are you really okay?”
“I ducked and rolled down the stairs. I felt the bullet singe my ear.” Still gasping for air, he crawled toward the gun. “I really hate these things, you know.”
“I know.” Nina stared at her mother. Liz’s chest heaved. Her wrinkled face contorted until Nina no longer recognized her. A stranger who had sneaked in and out of her life.
“Let her up, Nina, I’ve got her.” Aaron rose to his knees. He held the gun with both hands, pointed squarely at the woman on the floor. “The police are on their way. King is on his way.”
Nina eased to her feet on weak legs. Every muscle throbbed. A pain stabbed her in the chest every time she inhaled and exhaled. Two fingers felt broken on her left hand. The bongos performed in her head again.
Liz rolled onto her side and covered her face. Nina tensed, waiting. Nothing. Just sobs.
She backed up until she stood next to Aaron, but she never took her gaze from the woman on the floor. “How did you know?”
“Ditto. You’ve never said ditto in your life.”
“It’s a line from a movie.”
“I know. Ghost. Patrick Swayze says it to Demi Moore. She can never get him to say, ‘I love you.’”
Nina’s legs trembled. Her mouth didn’t seem to want to form words. She leaned over and put her hands on her knees. “I didn’t know if you would get it.”
“I got that something was wrong. You didn’t answer my texts after we hung up. When I got here the front door was unlocked.”
“She killed Daddy.”
“I know.” He put one arm around her and squeezed. The gun never wavered. “She’ll get justice now.”
“No, no, no, I can’t go to jail. I can’t be in a cell.” Liz crawled to her knees. She held up her clasped hands as if praying. “I’m your mother. Don’t make me go. Please. They made me insane. I heard voices. They told me what to do.”
“She’s got the insanity plea down.” Aaron’s tone waxed philosophical. “That’s one trial I don’t plan to shoot.”
“Me neither.”
Instead, she would be the star witness in her own mother’s murder trial.
Sirens screamed.
Again.
* * *
Aaron didn’t move. Not even when King pounded down the stairs, his Smith & Wesson in hand.
“Gun, gun!” King shouted as he hit the bottom of the stairs. His partner followed close behind. “Lower the gun, Aaron, now.”
“She killed Judge Fischer.” He couldn’t seem to make his arms move. His fingers were frozen around the trigger. “She tried to kill Nina. She would’ve killed me.”
“I know, but it’s over now.” King’s voice dropped to a low, soothing bass. “We’ve got it from here. You can lower the weapon. Now.”
Command reverberated in that last syllable.
Aaron wanted to comply, but his body wouldn’t cooperate.
“Aaron, it’s okay. King can’t cuff her until you put the gun down.” Nina had that same soothing touch in her voice. Her thumb rubbed the skin on the back of his hand in a soft, circular motion. “We have to go find Hudson and Emma. They’ll be waiting for her and she’s never coming home.”
“You leave my kids alone.” Snarling, Liz rose halfway up on her knees. “They’re mine, not yours.”
“Don’t you move or I will kill you.” Aaron took a step toward her. “I’m not kidding. It will be self-defense, won’t it, King?”
“You need to stand down.”
“Please, Aaron.”
The ugly, black, stinking gun lowered of its own accord. He squatted and laid it with all the gentleness he could muster on the cement floor.
Cops swarmed Liz. Two seconds later she was cuffed and dragged up the stairs. She refused to move her feet, so Cavazos and a uni carried her between them.
Nina leaned into Aaron. She was warm. Thank You, God, she’s warm and alive. He wrapped his arms around her and lowered his head so it rested in her hair. “I thought you were dead,” he whispered. “I cannot live without you. You get that, right?”
“I thought you were dead.” She tightened her grip around his waist. “I love you. I don’t want to live without you.”
“Ditto.”
They both laughed, the hysterical sound of two people who’d gone around the bend.
“This is getting to be a habit.” King holstered his weapon and seated himself on the steps. He scratched his chin. “I don’t really need this kind of excitement every other day.”
“You live for it.”
Aaron and Nina spoke at the same time. They laughed again. More hysteria.
Nina’s laugh cracked and quivered. “My mother killed the man I treated like my dad. How will I tell Jan?”
“I’m sorry.” Aaron rubbed her back and kissed her hair. “I’m so sorry.”
Nothing else could be said. It couldn’t be made right. Justice
would not change Nina’s family history. But it didn’t hurt either. “She has something wrong with her. Something somewhere in her psyche got messed up. Maybe it can be fixed.”
King snorted. “Sorry. I’m a cynic. But you could be right. Tell me from the beginning.”
Nina told her story. Aaron picked up where she left off.
King scratched his chin some more. “So you knew something was wrong because she said ‘Ditto.’”
“Yep.”
“Huh.” He sighed and stood to make way for the EMTs. Again. “I don’t get it, but I’m glad you two do.”
So was Aaron.
39
Exhibit receptions used to make Nina crazy. Not anymore. Compared to murder and mayhem, they were tame affairs. She picked up a glass of club soda decorated with a wedge of lime and traversed a wide path around an old acquaintance from the Express-News who likely was more interested in a story than in the exhibit. A sax, trumpet, and keyboard blended in a soft, jazzy melody in the main room at the Blue Star Gallery. No blues tonight. Joe, Samuel, and Ralphie, three Haven for Hope residents fresh from the drug rehab program, provided the music.
More than two hundred people munched on fresh fruit, veggies, dip, crackers, and cheese provided by San Antonio Food Bank chefs-in-training. The event had a luminous fairy-tale story quality that made her fearful she would lose her glass slipper and the carriage would turn into a pumpkin.
As far as she was concerned, the other story was over. Her ribs only twinged occasionally, her headaches from the concussion had dissipated, and the bruises faded. Rick had made a deal. He would testify against Peter Coggins, but he was still going to jail for murder. Coggins would be tried on bribery, public corruption, racketeering, and conspiracy to commit murder. A half dozen of his colleagues at the firm would go to jail with him.
Everyone except Skeet. A good Christian would pray for his soul. Nina tried. God would forgive her for needing to try so hard to forgive. Liz continued to hug her insanity defense like a long-lost friend. She claimed childhood abuse in all forms from parents and her brother. Nina hadn’t seen her since that night in the wine cellar.
Tonight was a night to leave those horrifying memories behind. To start fresh. At least that’s what Dr. Wallace kept insisting. Nina’s true family was here for her. Including Hudson and Emma, who seemed less shell-shocked each day, just like their half sister. Her friends from Haven. The staff and the guests of honor, the former homeless individuals who’d been helped by the organization and now had jobs and apartments. Aaron. All his colleagues from the news business. Melanie’s friends and coworkers. Serena’s friends and coworkers. The important people.
