by Elise Sax
“Arthur Fox was one of the two victims of the plane crash, I’m assuming,” I said to Johnnie, the man who was calling himself Arthur Fox.
“Can you imagine my luck? The guy wouldn’t shut up during the flight. He kept remarking on how much we looked alike and since he had no family, he wondered if maybe we were related.”
“And then he dies, and you switched ID’s. That was smart, thinking under pressure like that.”
His face brightened, and he lowered his hand, which held the knife. “It was a stroke of genius, and it was like God wanted me to live. He wanted me to escape prison. You understand that, right?”
“Sure. Why not?” I said. He wasn’t the first killer I had met who thought he was all that.
“You’re the last loose end,” he said. “Then, I can live happily ever after. Thank you for letting me know where my bitch wife was. That’ll be fun to deal with after I finish with you,” he said, looking back at the taco truck. Corinne was standing there with the goat. Larry had left and was walking our way. His sleeves were torn off at the shoulders, which I assumed was the work of the goat.
“Hey, Gladie,” he called. “I feel great! I can tell the curse is long gone.”
Johnnie turned around to face Larry, putting the knife behind his back.
“Are you okay, Gladie?” Larry asked, staring at Johnnie.
“Go get help, Larry! Save yourself!” I yelled, and Johnnie elbowed me in the mouth. A shockwave of pain went through my head, and I stumbled backward, knocking into the door behind me.
“I’ll save you, Gladie!” Larry yelled. He took the hammer out of his pocket, and wielding it over his head, ran at Johnnie like he was Jon Snow going after White Walkers.
At that moment, a mob of people dressed in white and each carrying dozens of white daffodils, marched onto our street from the other side, on their way to Main Street, obviously to upset the yellow daffodil show. We were swept up into the group and moved along with them.
Larry was getting further away from us, but Johnnie held on tight to me, the knife always close to me.
“What do we want? White daffodils! When do we want them? Now!” the group chanted over and over.
We were rushed to the center of Main Street, where Morris and the yellow daffodil supporters met. “How dare you!” I heard Morris yell, and then I saw a white daffodil supporter slap a yellow jumpsuit with a bouquet of flowers.
Then, it was a free for all. It was a slapfest with flowers. Flowers went everywhere. Yellow. White. It was a toss-up who was going to win. Everyone was hitting everyone else with daffodils. With the riot in full swing, Johnnie got control of me again and began to drag me off, presumably to kill me.
“He’s got a knife! He’s going to kill Gladie!” Larry yelled while getting pulverized by both sides of the daffodil battle.
The word about the knife spread, and like the Red Sea, the daffodil people split, making a large empty circle in the center, with Johnnie and me in the center.
He pulled me tight in front of him and put the knife to my throat. I already had a bloody mouth, which was dripping down my chin.
My hero, Larry, raised the hammer over his head. “I’ll save you!” he yelled again, but he was stopped by Spencer, who appeared out of the crowd and grabbed the hammer from Larry’s hand. Quiet descended on the street as everyone watched with rapt attention to see what Spencer would do while faced with a killer who had a knife at my throat.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Johnnie announced, loudly, so everyone could hear. “I’m going to take Gladie with me, and once I get out of town, I’ll let her go. But if you try anything, I’ll slit her throat right here and now.”
“Interesting,” Spencer said. “What do you think, Peter? You think it’s interesting?”
Spencer’s brother Peter appeared out of the crowd and stood next to Spencer. “It got my attention, but I enjoy watching the golf channel. So, what do I know?”
“I’m not joking!” Johnnie shouted.
“And yet, you’re pretty damned funny,” Peter said.
“Not as funny as Family Guy, but way above Adam Sandler,” Spencer noted.
Bird pushed her way next to Spencer and Peter, and she aimed her gun at Johnnie. “You want me to fill him full of lead?” she asked Spencer.
“Everyone knows your gun is loaded with blanks,” Johnnie yelled. “I’m tired of this,” he added and held the knife tighter up against my neck, cutting it slightly and making me yelp. Spencer’s face grew scarily serious, and in a blur, he launched the hammer through the air.
I watched in horror as the hammer came at my head, and for a moment I thought Spencer was trying to kill me for stealing all of his socks. But it turned out that Spencer was a crack ace hammer thrower. It hit Johnnie square on his forehead, sending him flying backward.
Spencer leapt at me, deflecting the knife with his arm and catching me before I fell along with Johnnie. Peter wasn’t far behind. As soon as Johnnie hit the pavement, Peter flipped him over and did a karate move with his arm, completely subduing him.
“Pinky, you’re bleeding,” Spencer said, cradling my face in his hands.
“So are you,” I said, pointing at his hand where he had deflected the knife.
“Did you piss him off, or is he the murderer?”
“Both. He killed your three top cops, and he was pretty pissed off at me for nosing around.”
“Can you blame the guy?” Spencer asked. “He has a point.”
“You did great, Gladie,” Peter said, still immobilizing Johnnie. “I might recruit you for my team.”
“Back off, bro,” Spencer growled. “Gladie is doing just fine on my team.”
“I thought Peter had left to save the world,” I said to Spencer.
“He did, and he came back to spend more time with his little brother. Isn’t he wonderful?”
“He’s pretty good.”
“You’re going to tell me what happened with my caterer, right?” Spencer asked me.
My stomach growled. “I can tell you all about it, but I’m starving. I gave the taco guy twenty bucks, and he owes me forty tacos.”
“I love you, Gladys,” Spencer said and kissed my bloody mouth. There was a communal awwww sound from the hundreds of people watching the action.
Lucy and Bridget appeared, and Lucy looked madder than spit. “What happened? What happened? Did I miss the action, again? Did you catch the killer while I was sitting with Bridget? Gladie Burger, are you doing this on purpose?”
Epilogue
I emptied my basket of sunscreen and antacids onto the counter at the drugstore. I had been packing for a week for my long weekend with Spencer, and I still wasn’t finished.
“Can you please hurry up?” the woman behind me complained.
It was Terri Williams, the once powerful detective, who had been demoted to a beat cop. She was standing with her arms crossed and her cart in front of her. There were two tubes of Preparation H in it and a chocolate bar. Oh, how the mighty had fallen.
“Nice to see you, Terri,” I said.
“Yeah, right. That’ll be the day.”
“Can’t we try to be friends, or at least be civil to each other? I did save you from prison, you know.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “What I know is that I was demoted because of you. You and your nosing around. Butting in where you don’t belong. Interfering with police business. We’ll never be friends. In fact, I’ll be watching you, Burger. One step out of line, and I’m going to kick your ass all over this town.”
“That hemorrhoid cream would do wonders on those lines by your eyes, you know,” I said with a smile and gave the cashier my debit card to pay for the sunscreen. I had hoped that Terri would come around to liking me, but she seemed to hate me more and more each day. A part of me wanted to win her over, but another part of me wanted her hemorrhoids to swell. I was still concerned about her crush on Spencer, but for now, I didn’t see her as big of a threat as she was before. P
erhaps it was because I was going to go on vacation with Spencer, and I had just had my entire body waxed.
I left the drugstore and walked over to Tea Time to get a latte. As I opened the door, a Rolls Royce drove up and stopped at the curb. The window opened, and Corinne stuck her head out. She had had her hair dyed, and she looked twenty years younger. She was also smiling ear to ear, happy as a clam.
“Hey, Gladie,” she said. “Larry wants to talk to you.”
I closed the door to Tea Time and walked up to the car. Crouching down by the passenger door, I looked inside. Larry was dressed to the nines. All of his hair had grown back, and he looked right as rain. “Sweet ride, Larry,” I said. “When did you get this?”
“My ship has come in, Gladie. I had invested in a pig farm, and it went public. I’m rich!”
“That’s wonderful,” I said.
“Corinne and I are off to Reno to get married, and we just wanted to thank you one more time.”
He hadn’t stopped thanking me since I matched him with Corinne. He had already paid me for my services and given me a gift of a fancy Italian espresso machine.
“Congratulations, both of you. I hope you have a wonderful time in Reno.”
“We will. Those goats have kept me healthy, wealthy, and wise,” Larry said. “I’ve lost ten pounds, my cholesterol is normal for the first time in years, and my willy acts like it’s eighteen years old.”
We said goodbye, and I watched them drive away to their nuptials in Reno. It had turned out that Cynthia and Sidney had also gotten married in Reno and left on a long cruise. They had sent me word after Johnnie, aka Arthur, had been caught, and they apologized for leaving so abruptly but explained to me how afraid they had been for their lives.
Spencer had been in a wonderful mood in the past week. With Remington back in town, he was free to go on vacation with me, and he was still glowing from having his brother around for a few days. Peter had left to save the world, again, but he promised to visit, soon.
I guessed the world needed a lot of saving.
Carrying my latte in a to-go cup, I walked home. Official-looking “Do not cross” tape was wrapped around the house across the street because the house was now condemned. The airplane had been sent away somewhere, and the catastrophe tourists were long gone.
I was surprised to see Spencer across the street, facing the condemned house. I joined him, slipping my hand around his waist and leaning in against him.
“I think this house has a lot of potential,” he said.
I froze. Was he going to ask me the big question? What would I say?
“What do you think about the house?” he asked me.
“I think it might be cursed.”
“Really? I guess we could get a couple goats to gnaw at the baseboards. That should clear it up, right?” Goats might have worked for Larry, but I wasn’t so sure they would work for a house. But he was talking about “we.” What did that mean exactly?
“We could get a couple goats? What are you saying, Spencer?”
He gave me a squeeze. “We’ll talk about it on our vacation.”
The End
Don’t miss It Happened One Fright, the next book in the Matchmaker Mysteries.
And don’t forget to sign up for the newsletter for new releases and special deals: http://www.elisesax.com/mailing-list.php
Also by Elise Sax
Five Wishes Series
Going Down
Man Candy
Hot Wired
Just Sacked
Wicked Ride
Five Wishes Series
Three More Wishes Series
Blown Away
Inn & Out
Quick Bang
Three More Wishes Series
Matchmaker Mysteries Series
An Affair to Dismember
Citizen Pain
The Wizards of Saws
Field of Screams
From Fear to Eternity
West Side Gory
Scareplane
It Happened One Fright
Operation Billionaire
How to Marry a Billionaire
How to Marry Another Billionaire
Forever Series
Forever Now
Bounty
Switched
Moving Violations
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Elise Sax worked as a journalist for fifteen years, mostly in Paris, France. She took a detour from journalism and became a private investigator before writing her first novel. She lives in Southern California with her two sons.
She loves to hear from her readers. Don’t hesitate to contact her at [email protected], and sign up for her newsletter at http://elisesax.com/mailing-list.php to get notifications of new releases and sales.
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