Gone With the Nerd

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  "Are you headed to work?" Zoe couldn't imagine slogging off to the Sasquatch Diner on Sunday morning to wait tables. She felt sorry for Margo, whether Flynn thought she should or not.

  "No, I have the day off, remember?" Margo carried a pink vinyl satchel over her shoulder. "You were supposed to need a ride back to the airport."

  "Oh, right! I still do need one. But as you can imagine, I won't be hauling along any luggage this time. Wait until you see the bedroom. It's a mess." She put down the two cereal bowls she'd brought over to the table. "We can go look now, if you want."

  "Not now."

  Zoe glanced at her in confusion. Something about Margo's behavior wasn't right. "So did you change your mind about the coffee?"

  "No. I haven't changed my mind about anything." She pulled something that looked very much like a gun out of her satchel.

  Zoe didn't like guns, and if Margo thought she needed one to defend herself from Kristen, well, too bad. "If you brought that for me, I'm not comfortable taking it," she said. "Flynn will be back soon, and I don't know how to use guns anyway."

  "That's okay. I do." Her dark eyes gleamed.

  Alarmed, Zoe shook her head. "No, Margo. I won't have you standing guard over me with a gun. That's too weird." And she noticed something else. Margo was wearing little white gloves, like the kind they used to use for some of their cheer routines. Zoe couldn't figure out why, unless ...

  Margo lifted the gun and pointed it at her. "Then how about if I just shoot you with it? Would that be a little less weird?"

  Zoe's eyes widened and she found breathing was a real chore. "Don't even kid around about something like that!"

  "Believe me, I'm not kidding."

  Zoe hadn't thought she was kidding, either. From the moment she saw the gloves, she'd begun to figure it out.

  Kristen Keebler, Harvard law professor, might not like Zoe very much, especially now that Flynn was no longer a viable marriage prospect. Kristen might be delighted if Zoe suddenly had to go on location for several months in the crocodile-infested waters of the Amazon.

  But Margo fit in a whole other category. Margo didn't like Zoe at all, not even a little bit. In fact, Margo wanted her dead.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Flynn had barely arrived at the motel when his cell phone rang. He pulled into the parking lot and shut off the engine. Might as well answer his cell before heading to room fifteen. Zoe might be calling him. Or even Kristen. At times like this, he couldn't ignore his cell phone.

  "Tony!" Luanne sounded as if she'd been running.

  Flynn groaned. "Luanne, I'm sorry I didn't call you back. But I don't have time to talk now."

  "Me, either! You have to come back to the cabin!" She was panting.

  "Luanne, if this is about the tree, I know about the tree."

  "No! It's about Miss Taggart!"

  An alarm buzzed in his brain. "What about her?"

  "I was going over there to see you guys because I. figured you forgot to call, and I saw Miss Taggart's car there instead of yours. Well, I don't like her, which is why I never asked if I could call her by her first name, so I started walking around the house, and then I saw the tree, and—"

  "Get to the point, Luanne." Tension was building in his gut.

  "I'm trying to! I heard loud voices, so I went sneaking up to the kitchen window and peeked in. Tony, Miss Tag-gar t was pointing a gun at Zoe! So I ran home to call you!"

  The world tilted, and when it settled back onto its axis, Flynn saw everything with complete clarity. Of course. He reached for the ignition. "Call nine-one-one."

  "I did! They put me on hold, so I hung up! Tony, you have to come back and save Zoe!"

  "I will." His body felt as if it had been chiseled from a block of ice, but he would get there and he would save her. He had to. Peeling out of the parking lot, he gunned the motor on his way down the main drag. Then he deliberately ran the red light. Maybe he'd attract the attention of a cop who would follow him to the cabin.

  But the street was deserted this early on a Sunday morning, so he was free to drive 80 miles an hour past the Sasquatch Diner and the Bigfoot Trading Post. The road to the cabin was filled with potholes and he hit them all at speeds guaranteed to ruin the shocks.

  He should have trusted his gut with Margo. He'd known she was bad news. He'd known. She'd thrown suspicion onto poor Kristen, who might or might not be at the Bigfoot Motel. Kristen had been a pawn in Margo's scheme to get Zoe. But why? Revenge for a missed prom? That just didn't seem right.

  As he neared the cabin he slowed down. If he had a chance of saving Zoe, he'd have to sneak up on Margo. Several yards from the clearing he pulled over, turned off the engine, and got out of the car. Margo's neon green car still sat in front of the cabin.

  He tried to listen for voices, but the blood rushing in his ears made hearing tough. God, he had to be in time. And if he was in time, what then? He was unarmed. He didn't know martial arts. Where the hell were the cops in this town? He'd broken the speed limit by 50 miles an hour, for crissake!

  As he crept around the side of the house, he heard them talking and sent up a silent prayer of thanks. Although he couldn't make out what either of them was saying, Zoe had managed to keep herself from being shot, at least so far. Maybe she'd convinced Margo to put away the gun.

  He had to climb over the tree and snagged the back pocket of his pants on a branch. Rather than bother to untangle himself, he ripped the material free. Cool air blew on his ass, and he didn't care.

  On the far side of the tree he came face-to-face with Luanne and Bigfoot. In broad daylight it was easy to identity Jeff in a costume, but at night, in the shadows, Jeff could have fooled anyone, including him.

  Flynn panicked. He wasn't sure why Jeff was in costume, but neither of these kids had any business being here, putting themselves in the possible path of a woman with a gun. Where the hell were their parents? He mouthed, Go home.

  Jeff shook his head. "We're backup, dude." he said in a low voice.

  Shaking, Flynn walked closer. He was getting rid of these two before they got hurt. "Go," he said. "Now." Luanne lifted her chin. "We have a plan."

  "Take her home," Flynn said, appealing to Jeff.

  "Dude, maybe you should listen. She's smart."

  So was Flynn, but he had no plan. He'd never envisioned a situation like this. So he leaned over and put his face close to Luanne's. "Okay, I'm listening. Make it fast."

  Zoe couldn't believe that she hadn't seen the hatred in Margo's eyes long before this. Surely the woman had given off clues, clues Zoe had totally missed. So now she was in a hell of a fix.

  Fortunately, Margo had a laundry list of grievances and apparently wanted Zoe to hear them all before pulling the trigger. She'd started with elementary school. Zoe didn't remember Margo from elementary school, and that seemed to be part of the problem. Their alphabetical pairing up had started then, but Zoe had been oblivious to Margo, probably because she'd had a crush on Jimmy Switzer, who'd sat in front of her.

  From Margo's standpoint, Zoe had ignored her all through elementary and had barely noticed her in middle school. Margo had worked to get on the cheerleading squad just so she could become friends with Zoe, and even then it hadn't really happened.

  "But now we're friends!" Zoe said. "Or at least we were, until you pulled a gun on me. I have to tell you, Margo. pulling a gun on someone really puts a crimp in the relationship."

  "We're not friends." Margo sneered at her. "You never once invited me to come and see you in that fancy house in Malibu. now did you?"

  "You want to come to Malibu? Hey, we can arrange that. Let's get out the calendar and—"

  "Don't move!" Margo raised the gun and pointed it in Zoe's face.

  In the course of her career Zoe had done a few movies that involved guns. She'd never much liked them, even as props. She especially didn't like them when they looked loaded. This one did, although loaded and unloaded guns probably looked the same. Still, Zoe imag
ined the chambers seemed fatter somehow.

  Her job was to avoid having one of those fat chambers discharge a bullet in her direction. In the movies, characters always tried to talk their way out of a situation like this, or at least stall until help arrived. Zoe knew that Flynn would be coming back. She had to stay alive until then.

  She took a deep breath, which always calmed her before a scene. "So you're going to shoot me because I didn't become your friend? Maybe it's me, but that seems a little extreme, Margo."

  "Oh, there's a lot more to it than that. Do you remember Rob?"

  "Of course I do. I feel horrible about the prom, if it's any consolation." Judging from the gun in Margo's hand, it wasn't.

  "The prom?" Margo laughed. "The prom is chump change. I hated not going, but I'll tell you what I hated worse. Zoe, have you ever been pregnant?"

  "Uh, no." She had a bad feeling about where this discussion was going. "I take it you have?"

  'Briefly." Margo's gaze hardened. "When the father refused to marry me, I got rid of it."

  Zoe swallowed. "The father was Rob."

  "Yeah, Rob."

  "So why aren't you shooting him?'' Then she felt instantly guilty for putting ideas in a crazy woman's head. "Scratch that. Shooting is not the answer. Shooting is never the answer."

  "I could never shoot Rob. I love him."

  Oh, boy. Zoe was dealing with a total fruitcake. "What about Bob? Aren't you engaged to be married to Bob?"

  "There's no Bob."

  "Sure there's a Bob!" Hysteria nibbled at her, threatening to take over. "You said he's crazy about blueberry cobbler!"

  "I made him up." Margo raised the gun. "I think it's time to shoot you."

  "You know, maybe you should reconsider that idea. It'll end badly, with you going to jail. I've never been to jail, but I've seen movies, and the wardrobe options are not good."

  Margo shook her head. "I'm thinking Kristen will go to jail. While I was in her motel room I snagged a couple of personal items which I can leave at the scene of the crime. Everybody in town knows Kristen is crazy with jealousy. Even your precious Flynn thinks so."

  "But Flynn went to see her at the motel! He'll be her alibi!"

  "She's not there." Margo aimed the gun right between Zoe's eyes and squinted down the ban el. "I told her Flynn wanted to meet her at a little picnic area by Bigfoot Lake."

  "There's a lake around here?"

  "No, but I gave her directions that should keep her busy for a while. She'll have no alibi."

  "Then Flynn will be back any minute." Zoe struggled to breathe. "Once he finds out she's not there, he'll come back here."

  "Maybe, except he's a thorough guy. When he gets no answer, he'll go to the motel office and ask about Kristen. The motel office will call the room. The manager might even decide to check the room. I stopped by the office and said Kristen was depressed and might be a danger to herself."

  "Sounds like you planned this very carefully."

  "I tried to." Margo sounded quite proud of herself. "But I've also made use of the good luck that came my way at the last minute. Let me tell you, I was thrilled to find out Kristen was in the picture. We've had several long talks."

  "You convinced her to come out here, didn't you?"

  "Of course. She didn't want to, but I explained how you'd stolen my boyfriend and then ditched him, so you'd for sure do the same with hers."

  "I didn't ditch Rob! I quit going with him because he lied about you!"

  Margo's eyes glittered. "Yeah, and he blamed me for the breakup. I couldn't win. But now I have you where I want you, and that's all I care about. People don't often get a chance to ruin the life of the person who ruined theirs."

  "Margo, let me make it up to you. Come to the beach house in Malibu with me. We'll sit on the deck and drink cosmos. I'll invite Matt Damon and Ben Affleck over. We'll have a party. You'll be the guest of honor."

  "Like that would ever happen. You can't make it up to me, so don't even try. The baby Rob and I were supposed to have is dead, and he's married to somebody else."

  Zoe felt herself getting sucked into the quicksand of Margo's insanity. "Give yourself a chance to find someone else, too. Someone better than Rob."

  "There's nobody better than Rob. He's perfect, and if it hadn't been for you, he would have married me and my life would be perfect right now, too. I had everything planned—my wedding colors, pink and silver, my bridesmaids ... I was planning to ask you to be a bridesmaid. Funny, huh?"

  "Yeah. Funny. I look really bad in pink and silver." How bizarre. Other than the cheerleading activities, Zoe had spent no time with Margo, and yet Margo had scripted her into her wedding. The woman was a genuine wacko. No wonder Rob had dumped her.

  "Pretty soon it won't matter what color you wear," Margo said. "You'll look bad in everything, because you'll be dead." She put her finger on the trigger. "Let's do a little cheer, shall we? Give me a A!"

  Zoe began to shake. "What about the noise?"

  "We're in the woods. Everyone around here has guns. They shoot to scare off whatever wildlife is bothering them—bears, skunks, whatever. A gunshot in these woods is like a car horn in New York City. Give me an A"

  "So guns are a total cliché, right? Surely you don't want to do the obvious thing. Maybe you should think about a more creative way to do me in."

  Margo groaned. "Trust me, I tried. I poisoned your food, I planted the bees you're so allergic to, I raced back here while you were eating and turned on the gas so you could blow yourself up, and nothing happened! So I had to console myself up by watching you boinking your precious lawyer."

  "You watched us?" Zoe's tummy rolled.

  "I deserved to have some fun. Now I can say I saw the great Zoe Tarleton getting it on. And you looked as sweaty and stupid as the rest of us. I have to say, though, he's hung real nice... for a nerd."

  "You're sick, Margo. You need help."

  "No, I don't. I manage fine up here in Long Shaft. I'll manage even better once you're taken care of. Too bad the tree didn't do the job for me, though. That would've been cleaner. Now I'm stuck with shooting you. Give me an A!"

  "Margo, don't you see?" Zoe worked to keep her teeth from chattering. "All those missed opportunities are just God's way of telling you not to kill me."

  "I have to, Zoe. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't. Give me another D! What does it spell? DEAD!" She pulled the trigger.

  As Zoe braced herself for the impact, an empty chamber clicked. She nearly collapsed on the floor in relief.

  "Damn it all! One empty chamber, and you luck out and get it. Trust me, it won't happen twice." She started to squeeze the trigger again and paused as a howl sounded next to the house. "What the hell is that?"

  It sounded like the cavalry to Zoe. "Bigfoot?"

  "Can't be. There's no smell."

  The howl was followed by a shriek.

  Margo's glance shifted to the window but moved quickly back to Zoe. "Okay, so something's out there."

  "I think you should investigate," Zoe said. "You could add another sighting to your list."

  "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Sorry. Bigfoot is important, but shooting you is on the top of my To Do list, even above Bigfoot sightings." She two-handed the gun she leveled at Zoe.

  Zoe wondered if she could dive out of the way in time. Probably not at such close range. Maybe she should rush her. It looked like she was going to die anyway, and at least she'd go down swinging. Bigfoot howled again.

  Margo darted a quick look out the window again. "Damn it, why did he have to show up now? I've never had a daylight sighting."

  "That could make history." Zoe thought she heard a noise on the cement stoop outside the back door. She took a tiny step toward the back door.

  "Stay where you are!" Margo repositioned her finger on the trigger. "I'm afraid the sound of the gun will scare him away, but I'll have to take my chances on that." She began to squeeze the trigger again.

  The back door slammed back on
its hinges and Flynn knocked Zoe out of the way as the gun went off.

  At the moment she realized Flynn had been hit by the bullet meant for her something snapped in Zoe. With a roar of rage she flung herself at Margo, who fired off another shot that missed Zoe and slammed into the wall next to the window.

  Before Margo could shoot again, Zoe was on her, knocking her to the floor with a thud that shook the dishes in the cupboards. Then Zoe proceeded to give Margo the biggest girl fight of the century. She pinched, she gouged, she pulled hair, while Margo shrieked louder than Bigfoot.

  "I'll take over." The voice sounded young, but the costumed body that inserted itself into the fight and pushed Zoe away was substantial. Bigfoot looked like he could handle Margo, which left Zoe to check on Flynn.

  She turned and crawled back to where he lay crumpled on the floor, his glasses lying several feet away and a blackened bullet hole piercing the material of his shirt, right over his heart. No! screamed a voice in her head. A whimper came from the open doorway. Zoe glanced up and saw Luanne standing there, hands to her mouth, eyes shining with tears.

  Zoe gulped. "He'll . . . be .. . okay."

  "Yeah ... I will." Flynn opened his eyes.

  "You're alive!" Zoe felt dizzy with joy.

  "So far."

  "Don't move," Zoe said. "Don't try to be brave. You've been shot."

  "I feel like I've been shot." He lifted his head. "Jeff, you got Margo under control?"

  "You betcha, dude. Like, I got her in a choke hold."

  A moan of discomfort verified his statement.

  "Don't worry about Margo." Zoe said. "Just stay quiet." She spied the cell phone clipped to his belt. Unfastening it, she stared at him expecting blood to start gushing out of his chest any minute. Keeping her attention on that bullet hole, she held out the phone to Luanne. "Call nine-one-one."

  "I'll try."

  "What do you mean, try! Just dial it!"

  "Out here in Long Shaft, it doesn't always work."

  "Well, keep trying!" Zoe clutched Flynn's hand. It felt so warm, but any minute he could go into shock. Why hadn't she ever taken a first-aid course? She knew nothing about injured people. And now the injured person was the man she loved.