Guns, Wives and Chocolate

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Guns, Wives and Chocolate Page 17

by Sally Berneathy


  Everything was wrapped up in a neat little package.

  Except it wasn’t.

  “Lindsay?” Fred held a hand toward me.

  “I’m coming.”

  

  Fred walked me home then left with Grace to go to Paula’s house and retrieve Rickie.

  Henry waited on my front porch. He’d been out and about in the evening’s rain, but he was completely dry. He always does that, walks through the rain without getting a drop on him. Supernatural powers.

  I gave Henry some catnip then wandered through the house. I should go upstairs to bed, but I had told the truth about being wide awake and wired. I went to the refrigerator and poured a glass of pink wine then watched out the window as Fred, Grace and Rickie crossed the street to Grace’s house.

  Fred headed back to his own place. He waved as he passed my house. Did he know I was watching? If I touched his hair, would it be dry like Henry’s?

  I took my glass of wine to my recliner. It tasted dull. Can wine go dull?

  Henry stood at the foot of the stairs and looked at me. He was ready to go to bed. I needed to go to bed. He turned away from me and headed upstairs. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I was pretty sure he was rolling them.

  My phone rang.

  Grace.

  “Are you still up?” she asked.

  “Yes, are you?” Stupid question. Obviously she was.

  “Yes. I’m not sleepy.”

  “Neither am I. It’s all the adrenaline. We’ve had quite the evening.”

  “Does wine stop that adrenaline?”

  I looked at my still-full glass. “I think so.”

  “Want to come over?”

  “I’ll bring the wine. I have some that needs to be drunk soon. It may be close to its expiration date.”

  “I didn’t know wine had an expiration date.”

  Grace didn’t get my sense of humor, but we had formed a bond of sorts.

  I got my box of wine from the refrigerator, stuck my phone and stun gun in my pockets, and headed to Grace’s. I wouldn’t need the stun gun. The bad guy was in jail. But I’d become accustomed to having it with me. One item in each back pocket. Balance.

  The evening was chilly, but the rain had stopped. A sliver of moon peeked from behind the clouds. The storm was over. All was calm.

  It didn’t feel calm. The humid air had a sharp edge.

  That wasn’t possible. Didn’t even make sense.

  It was just me.

  Adrenaline.

  And that ugly truck still parked in front of Grace’s house. We would have to get it towed. The Mayfields weren’t coming back for it. I wouldn’t if it was my truck.

  Grace met me at the door with two glasses. “We did it. Time to celebrate.”

  I put the box of wine on the coffee table. We filled our glasses then sat in the arm chairs. Both of us avoided the sofa.

  “I sent Rickie upstairs to bed, but I know he’s not asleep,” Grace said. “He’s so excited about his mother being part of a big drug bust.” She sipped her wine. “I didn’t tell him we couldn’t get that man to admit he killed Chuck.”

  “He’s in custody now. They’ll beat it out of him.” Interesting that my wine once again tasted okay.

  “I don’t think they’re allowed to beat people.”

  “No, they’re not, but they have ways of getting suspects to confess.”

  We drank in silence for a few minutes.

  “That was lucky George tripped and dropped the box of drugs,” she said. “The closer we got to the door, the more worried I got. Do you think he did it on purpose so he wouldn’t be caught carrying them?”

  I laughed. “Fred tripped him. On purpose.”

  “Oh.” She leaned back in her chair. “That Fred, he’s an interesting guy.”

  “Very.”

  “He retired from the mob or something?”

  I thought of our visit with Donato Orsini. “Maybe.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “No.”

  “Don’t you wonder? I mean, he knows a lot of stuff.”

  “Of course I wonder, but he won’t tell me.”

  “Oh.”

  I sensed an ally in my ongoing quest to discover Fred’s secrets.

  We drank in silence again. A comfortable silence.

  “I still feel antsy,” Grace said. “How much wine does it take to make this adrenaline stop?”

  “More than a glass, less than a box.”

  She got up for a refill then settled back into her chair. My glass was almost empty, but I wasn’t going for a refill. I had to go to work in a few hours.

  “I’m really sorry about Chuck.” I’d said it before and I’d meant it, but tonight my words came from a more personal level. “I know you loved him, and he made you happy.”

  “He was the love of my life. I used to love Rickie’s daddy, but not the same way I loved Chuck.”

  “I know what you mean. It’s hard to love Rickhead.”

  “I reckon you do know. Rick’s like a pretty package wrapped in shiny paper with a big red bow, but when you open it, the box is empty.”

  Grace might be uneducated, but she wasn’t dumb.

  “Actually, I think that box might have a little rotten, stinky garbage in it.”

  Grace giggled. “Week old fish heads.”

  “Milk you lost in the refrigerator for a month.” This was fun, having somebody to trash Rickhead with.

  “Rickie’s diapers when he was a baby.”

  “Let me think a minute. That’s going to be hard to top.”

  Someone pounded on the front door.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Grace and I sat upright, any banished adrenaline returning in full force.

  “You think it’s him?” Grace whispered. “Out of jail and come back to get us?”

  “I don’t know.” I took my cell phone and my stun gun out of my pockets. Call Fred? Call Trent? Zap somebody?

  Rickie charged down the stairs. “Who’s that?”

  “Grace, honey, can we come in?” Edwina. Chuck’s mother.

  Rickie slammed his body against the door. “Go away!”

  “It’s cold and wet out here,” Leon whined.

  “Open up!” The screechy voice was vaguely familiar. “You wanted them, you got them!”

  Alinn!

  Grace shot to her feet, hesitated uncertainly for a moment, then headed for the door.

  I went after her. “Don’t let them in!”

  “No, Mama,” Rickie pleaded.

  “Your daddy’s parents are out there. You let them in right now.”

  Rickie moved away and allowed his mother to open the door.

  Leon and Edwina looked even more bedraggled than they had the night before.

  Alinn stood beside them. Anger swirled around her in almost-visible waves. “Take them! They ain’t got any money!”

  “I know that,” Grace said.

  Alinn had believed the story about the inheritance for a grandchild, and she was pregnant. She was disgusting and pitiful.

  She turned and stomped toward her blue Subaru SUV parked behind the Mayfield’s truck.

  Rickie pushed between Grace and me, shoved the Mayfields aside, and tackled Alinn in the middle of the yard. Both of them tumbled to the ground.

  Grace rushed out behind him. “Rickie! Stop that!”

  Stay on the porch with the Mayfields or rush off into battle with Grace and Rickie?

  I followed Grace.

  Alinn and Rickie struggled in the wet grass. She threw him off and tried to get up, but he held onto her foot.

  “Get away from me!” She kicked him.

  “You take them back!”

  “Let her go,” Grace ordered.

  Alinn pounded the ground. “I’m gonna sue all of you!”

  Grace dragged Rickie away from Alinn. “Why did you stop her? We want rid of her.”

  “She took them people,” Rickie said. “She’s got to keep them. We don’t wan
t them.”

  Alinn struggled to her feet and brushed dead leaves off her sweater. Her beady eyes narrowed on Grace, and her scrunchy face scrunched tighter. “This is all your fault! You thought Chuck would adopt that kid and you’d get all the money! Well, there isn’t any money, I don’t have a husband, and your brat doesn’t have a daddy!”

  I studied Alinn’s angry face, her belligerent stance. She’d known about the adoption. “You believed Chuck’s story about his rich parents who wanted a grandchild. You found out he was going to adopt Rickie, give them a grandchild, so you got pregnant. Not by Chuck. He was shooting blanks. But your plan backfired. He’s dead, the Mayfields are broke, and you’re on your own with a baby on the way.”

  “She’s not pregnant,” Rickie said. “I punched her in the gut when we were fighting. There’s no baby in there. She’s just got a flabby belly.”

  Alinn’s face paled. She spun around and started toward the street.

  Grace rushed over and grabbed her arm. “How’d you know about the adoption? He told you, didn’t he? He told you he was leaving you for me so you pretended to be pregnant.”

  Alinn shook off Grace’s hand. “Chuck told me everything. I knew about all the women he pretended to marry. We talked about all of you, laughed about how dumb you are.”

  Grace gasped.

  Alinn was going to pay for that remark. “So you want us to believe that you knew all about your husband marrying other women, sleeping with other women? Cheating on you? That didn’t bother you?”

  She snorted.

  The noise was cute when Henry did it. Disgusting when Alinn did it.

  “We used all you women! You were nothing but tools.”

  A couple of puzzle pieces slid into place, but the picture they were creating was surreal.

  Howdy Doody’s words replayed in my mind. This was all that bitch’s idea! She didn’t care about Mayfield! She wanted money! I’d thought he was talking about Grace. Now I wasn’t so sure. Was it possible this not-very-bright woman could be the one behind the whole wives/churches/drugs thing?

  “You knew about all the other women. You knew about the drugs.”

  The woman’s squinchy eyes opened so wide they were almost normal sized. “Chuck was my husband. He loved me. That’s all.”

  “You said you used those other women. Dumford wasn’t talking about Grace when he said he’d take that bitch down with him. He was talking about you.”

  That got her attention. “Gaylord? He didn’t say that. When? How do you know him?”

  “We were there when the cops hauled him away a couple of hours ago. They’ll be coming for you soon. Last I saw of him, he was squealing his head off, giving up everybody he knows from the kid who put salt in his Kool-Aid in grade school to the woman he blames for his arrest.” I gave her a moment to take that in. “You.”

  “You’re lying.” She didn’t sound sure.

  “You got Chuck into that awful drug business?” Grace lunged toward Alinn but Rickie and I held her. “Let me go! I’ll kill that bitch. She killed Chuck!”

  “You can’t prove that!”

  Complete stillness as in a sci-fi movie where the mad scientist stops time.

  No dogs barked in the distance. No crickets chirped. No frogs called. No rain fell.

  Grace had accused Alinn of killing Chuck by getting him involved in drugs.

  Alinn had taken the accusation literally.

  She didn’t protest her innocence. She simply said we couldn’t prove it.

  She spun and took a step toward her SUV, toward her escape.

  I stuck my foot in her path. I’ve learned all sorts of useful things from Fred.

  She stumbled but regained her balance. “You tripped me!”

  “Can’t get anything thing past you, can we?”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Never mind.” I’d stopped her. Now what? What would Fred do? “Dumford told the cops he got the cyanide for you,” I lied. More a fishing expedition than a lie. It didn’t count against my daily quota.

  She charged me, slammed her head into my chest.

  I stumbled backward and my stun gun flew out of my hand. I should have followed Fred’s advice and put the lanyard around my wrist.

  Alinn came after me, but before she made contact again, she screamed, went into a seizure, and fell to the ground.

  “Take that, bitch.” Rickie brandished my stun gun. “I need one of these.”

  Grace rushed up and took it away from him.

  I reached for it, but she held her hand away, her attention focused on Alinn. “You killed him? You murdered my husband for the money you thought his folks had? Money that doesn’t even exist?” Before I could stop her, she zapped Alinn again.

  Okay, I didn’t try very hard to stop her.

  Fred rushed up and grabbed Grace’s hand. “That’s enough. You don’t want to kill her.”

  Fred?

  “She killed my husband! She deserves to die!”

  “I know. She’ll be punished. Give the stun gun back to Lindsay.”

  Grace complied but shot Alinn a glare of at least a million volts.

  Alinn moaned.

  Fred extended a hand to help her up.

  She rolled away from him and tried to get up on her own, but her muscles were uncooperative. She flopped around and finally accepted his help.

  “Call the police!” she demanded. “These people assaulted me!”

  “She started it,” I said.

  “The police are on their way. I phoned Detective Trent. You were correct, Lindsay. Dumford confessed that he supplied cyanide to this woman. She told him she was going to kill Grace, not Chuck. That was a very astute conclusion.”

  “I’m becoming psychic like you.”

  “Get your hands off me!” Alinn shouted.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that,” Fred said. “I witnessed your attacks on Grace and Lindsay. They’re afraid for their lives. I am obligated to restrain you until the authorities arrive.”

  “You’re going to be sorry you ever touched me!”

  Fred tilted his head away from her. “I already am. How long has it been since you had a bath?”

  A police siren screamed down our street.

  A squad car pulled over to the curb in front of the ugly truck. Two uniformed officers got out. A familiar dark blue sedan slid into place behind Alinn’s vehicle, and Trent got out.

  Three officers for one woman?

  “Arrest these people!” Alinn struggled but Fred held her effortlessly.

  The cops went straight to Alinn. Trent ignored me. Just as well. This wasn’t the sort of attention I wanted from him.

  One of the uniforms put her in handcuffs while she screamed and cursed.

  “You’re under arrest for murder,” the officer said. She screamed louder. “You have the right to remain silent.” That wasn’t going to happen. He continued to recite the Miranda warning while she continued to scream.

  They put her in the back seat of the squad car. When they closed the door, the night became a great deal quieter.

  The squad car drove away.

  Trent came over and wrapped his arms around me. “You okay?”

  How could anybody be okay after an encounter with that crazy woman? But I wasn’t going to admit it. “I’m fine.”

  “Go home. Try to get some sleep.”

  “I know. You’ve got paperwork.”

  “I’ll call you.” He gave me a quick kiss then turned and walked away.

  Our street was quiet and serene again.

  “Everybody all right?” Fred asked.

  “I think so,” Grace said.

  Rickie said nothing.

  Fred had done it again. Arrived in the nick of time.

  “Where did you come from?” I asked.

  “I came from that house across the street and down two. I live there.”

  “I know that! I mean, what are you doing here? Going for a walk, and you just happened upon us as we were
taking Alinn down for murder?”

  “I looked out the door when she drove up and saw her herding those people to Grace’s front door. Then you all ran out and began shouting so loudly, it was impossible not to hear you.”

  Those people.

  In all the excitement, I’d forgotten about them.

  I looked toward Grace’s house.

  The front door was closed. Television images flickered through the windows. The TV wasn’t on when we left.

  Rickie followed my gaze and groaned. “How are we going to get rid of them?”

  I looked at Grace. The Mayfields were all hers now. Her rival for Chuck’s parents was out of the picture. She could have the family she’d wanted. It would be the most dysfunctional family on the planet, but she could have them.

  “All you have to do is say the word, and they’ll be gone,” Fred said.

  Say the word! I mentally commanded Grace.

  She licked her lips and looked at the truck sitting in the street.

  Say the word!

  “They were Chuck’s parents,” she said softly.

  Wrong word!

  “I’ll run away from home and go live with Aunt Lindsay,” Rickie said.

  Aunt Lindsay?

  Grace wrapped an arm around her son. “Get rid of them.”

  “Wait here.” Fred went into Grace’s house.

  Five minutes later the Mayfields scurried out and, without looking to one side or the other, jumped into their truck.

  Fred strolled out behind them and waited with us while they started the truck.

  The engine fluttered but finally engaged. Again our street was alive with sound. They rattled away leaving a smelly exhaust trail behind.

  Grace choked and fanned the air in front of her face. “Rude people. They didn’t even say good-bye.”

  “What did you tell them?” I asked Fred.

  His face was serene in the moonlight as he watched the smoke disappear around the corner. “I simply asked them to leave.”

  “Thank you!” Grace hugged Fred then me. “If it wasn’t for you all, I’d be on my way to prison. I’m so glad we’re neighbors!”

  I hugged her back. “Me too.” What’s one little lie between friends?

  Grace kissed Rickie’s forehead. “It’s past your bedtime.”

  We all said good night. Grace and Rickie walked together up the sidewalk toward their home.

  “Can I have a stun gun?” Rickie asked.

 

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