Twice Baked Murder

by Daphne DeWitt

  “Hopefully,” I would say. “We can get to know each other better in the future.”

  Of course, that didn’t seem very likely. If I didn’t make good on this plan, then Darrin was very likely going to make good on his threat to toss me out of Second Springs on my ear. If I did, well, that would mean that I had fulfilled my unfinished business here. I would “move on.” Whatever that meant.

  I shook my head slightly and kept a smile plastered across a face that I still only barely recognized. I couldn’t think about me right now. There was too much at stake, too much blood that needed to be answered for.

  I saw my father in the distance, having such a hard time moving on. My death had cost him his job. I couldn’t let it cost him his sanity, too. He needed to heal, to move on. He would never be able to do that if he knew his daughter was trapped in the body of a stranger.

  So when he nodded at me, I nodded back and let him move along. The pies would have wreaked havoc on his blood sugar. So, at least I could let myself believe he was keeping his distance because of that and that it didn’t have anything to do with me.

  * * *

  My nerves fluttered up even more as the sun went down. Eight pm was looming, which meant that the fireworks that would serve as my cover were only minutes away.

  Pulling off my apron, I turned to Peggy. “I’m going to go stake out a good spot if that’s okay.”

  “Of course,” she answered, smiling. She had worked really hard for days now, especially during these last few hours. However, her hair was no part flatter, her smile was no wider, and her lipstick wasn’t even close to smudged.

  She lived for this—you could tell it by looking at her.

  “You’ve done such a good job today, Rita,” she said. “I’m so glad you showed up here.”

  “Me too,” I answered, looking at my best friend in the world and stifling the urge to throw my arms around her. “I’m gonna go.”

  I didn’t like lying to her. I didn’t like lying at all. But this was bigger than me and her, bigger than any of us. And, with the volunteer fire department readying the festivities, I didn’t have much time to get Darrin and me in place.

  I met the new sheriff behind the playground, a place I knew better than I had any right to in this body.

  He was already there when I showed up. No surprise, given how prompt and no-nonsense he was. Still, as I caught sight of him, his sandy hair glistening against the rising moon and his eyes brighter than I expected, I couldn’t help but think that part of him was enjoying this.

  “Are you ready?” I asked, smirking at him.

  “I’ve been here for ten minutes,” he shot back. “I think the question is, are you ready?”

  “You know,” I started. “Sometimes I feel like it’s the reason I was born.”

  He glared at me.

  “Is there a problem?” I asked.

  “More than a few,” he answered with his arms folded over his chest. “But at the moment, I’m trying to decide whether I find your veiled innuendo and enthusiasm charming or just infuriating.”

  “My money’s on a little bit of both,” I answered, realizing the way I felt about him could be summed up with many of those same words. “Now, come on. We need to get going.”

  I started westward, toward our destination. “Don’t be so nervous,” I said, looking back at Sheriff Dash. “This is all going to work out.”

  “Do I look nervous?” His brows shot upward questioningly.

  I grinned at him. “You look like you’re on a roller coaster heading straight up. I just can’t tell whether or not you’re going to enjoy the fall.”

  I ducked through a tear in the playground fence that had been there for at least ten years and cut through the old Sampson yard. Darrin followed a few steps behind.

  “Only one way to find out,” he answered.

  “I think I like you more than I should,” I chuckled, moving through darkened yard in a near sprint.

  Darrin kept up with me easily. “Let’s see how you feel about me after tonight.”

  * * *

  We both slowed down as our destination came into view. “Why are we going here, anyway?” he asked.

  “Because,” I said, with a shiver running up my spine. “This is where it all started.”

  23

  I stared at the steps I had tumbled to my death from with apprehension. Mrs. Hoover’s house was in the distance much like how it had been the night I died. I didn’t want to go there. I didn’t want to set foot in that house ever again. The person who killed me was connected to that crime scene somehow, and yet I still hadn’t brought myself to set foot in it.

  So why was I doing it now?

  Simple, because I had no choice.

  After Mrs. Hoover’s untimely demise and a respectful amount of mourning time, her house was sold to Scott Walker and his new bride Samantha; who had been high school sweethearts alongside Aiden and me. Seeing as how they ended up actually married and both of them are still breathing, I’d say they were the more successful couple.

  Of course, that was neither here nor there.

  The real reason I was interested in this house tonight was the same reason that Amelia, the villain in our little story, would also be.

  Because it was empty.

  The entire town was at the Peach Festival tonight; Scott and Samantha included. I gave them both slices of pie not an hour ago, and I had little doubt that, at this moment, they were snuggled up in each other’s arms watching fireworks go off in the sky.

  I heard the boom of the latest bit of pyrotechnics and turned. Green and blue sparks lit the air. I looked to Darrin.

  “Amelia is looking for something. Something that she believes is inside that house. It’s why Patrick and Ralph died. It’s why Mrs. Hoover died. It’s very likely why the sheriff’s daughter died.” I shook my head. “I have no doubt she’ll take this opportunity to try to find it. You’ve taken me this far, and if you want to be a lookout for me, I’ll totally understand. Following me inside that house constitutes breaking and entering, and I wouldn’t blame you if that was a line you didn’t want to cross, being the sheriff and all.”

  “I appreciate the concern, but it’s unnecessary. I don’t cross ethical lines,” he explained.

  “That’s very ‘Joe Friday’ of you, but it will only be true if we part ways here,” I answered. I wanted him to come inside. I wanted him to see what was about to happen. Given I had just told him I was basically a walking miracle, his perception of me was reasonably skewed. I didn’t want to leave any room for doubt. Still, I wouldn’t let him compromise himself. I had lived with my dad long enough to know how important honor was to a man of the law.

  “Unless, of course, I ran all of this by Mr. and Mrs. Walker and got their consent to go inside their home.” He smiled and lifted a silvery flash of metal from his pocket. “Along with the keys to their front door.”

  “You told them everything?” I asked, my eyes widening.

  “I told them enough,” he answered. “That I was following a lead that was connected to what was going on around town, a lead that may or may not pan out. I also told them I needed to use their house for official police business.”

  “They didn’t ask you any questions?” I balked.

  “Believe it or not, Rita, people around here do trust me. Now, let’s go.”

  This time, it was Darrin that took the lead.

  He moved down the steps spritely, with no way to know the kind of turmoil I was going through as I descended them slowly behind him. Each movement nearly spurred a panic attack. Each foot trembled as it moved in front of the other.

  “Are you afraid of heights or something?” Darrin asked, looking up at me from the bottom of the steps, the place where my body had fallen dead two years ago.

  “Or something,” I answered, inching my way toward him.

  “Well, get a move on, or we’ll miss seeing your killer.”

  “My killer?” I asked stunned, as I finally se
ttled beside him at the bottom of the steps.

  “Yes,” he answered. “The killer you promised me would be here,” he clarified.

  “Right,” I answered, shaking it off. It wasn’t Amelia who killed me. It was a man with a deep, horrible voice and strong hands.

  You shouldn’t have done that to her.

  The words my killer spoke to me bounced around my head over and over again. Had that been Patrick? Was he the one who had shoved me into an early grave?

  “We’ll go around the back,” Darrin said, keeping low to the ground. “Just in case Amelia is watching.”

  I followed the new sheriff, leaning as he did toward the grass, and rushing toward the back door.

  Darrin slid the key into the back door and opened it. I followed him into the home silently, careful not to make any noise.

  He closed the door lightly behind him and turned to me.

  “No lights,” he said softly.

  “I’m not an idiot,” I answered. “I need to talk to you though. There’s something I didn’t tell you before we came in here, something I wasn’t sure you’d believe if you didn’t see it with your own eyes. Now that you’re here with me, I figured you should know.”

  Darrin’s face went hard. I could tell he was tired of my nonsense, and I couldn’t blame him for it. I had sort of put him through the wringer since he’d graced my twisted path, and now he could see it happening again.

  “What are you talking about?” he asked in a harsh voice.

  “I was looking at them today, at the photo of the family when the kids were young. It all came to me. It all clicked into place.” I shook my head, remembering it. “Mrs. Hoover’s husband was a mechanic, Darrin. The kids, they all wore long sleeves in the summer. Ralph’s front tooth was gone.”

  “You’re not making any sense,” Darrin answered, staring at me like I was losing my mind.

  “In the mugshot, Ralph had his permanent teeth, Darrin.”

  “So?” He questioned.

  “The mugshot was before the picture,” I answered, trying to be as quiet as possible. “Don’t you get it? It all makes sense, Darrin.”

  A loud bang sounded from somewhere upstairs. My body tensed.

  Darrin pulled his gun from his holster and readied it.

  “Darrin. We’ve been looking in the wrong place,” I said, grabbing his arm. “Amelia is--”

  “In the house,” he answered, pulling away from me.

  He darted through the kitchen and up the stairs, pistol at the ready.

  I followed behind him, right into the bedroom, the source of the noise.

  “Freeze!” he shouted, but that was before he saw her.

  A gasp left his mouth as he took her in, because just as I expected, Amelia was standing in the bedroom, wrench in hand.

  But Amelia wasn’t only Amelia. It seemed like Darrin recognized her as someone else, someone much closer to all of this than he might have ever expected.

  I moved closer, weary of Darrin’s gun and the way it was pointed right at her.

  “Hello, Angela,” I said, looking at Patrick’s wife with narrowed and knowing eyes. “I think it’s time you explain yourself.”

  24

  “What are you doing here?” Angela asked, her hand tightening around the wrench. She was dressed for the festival in a stylish peach dress and matching shoes.

  The room was a mess of scattered papers and opened drawers. The loud crash that had alerted Darrin and me she was here turned out to be a shattered lamp that now lay in pieces on the floor.

  “Drop the weapon and put your hands up, Angela,” Darrin said, unwavering as he pointed the gun at her.

  “This?” she asked, blinking hard. “This isn’t a weapon. I found this here.” She motioned to the wrench, but she still didn’t drop it. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I was just coming here to get a recipe I’d lent Samantha. Like I told you before,” she looked at me. “I’m leaving here in a couple of days, and I didn’t want to leave it. It’s a family keepsake from my mother, and I wouldn’t want to leave town without it.” She shook her head. “Samantha let me in.”

  Darrin glanced over at me from the corner of his eye. Certainly, he wasn’t buying this.

  “She gave me a key and everything.”

  “That’s strange,” Darrin answered. “Because she gave me a key tonight as well, and she told me to be careful with it because it was her only copy.” He moved closer to Angela. “Tell me what you’re really doing here.”

  “I told you,” she said, wrench still in hand. “I’m here for my mother’s keepsake.”

  “Mrs. Hoover?” I asked, careful not to make any sudden movements. Angela was a killer without a doubt, but jumping the gun here might force Darrin to shoot her and I didn’t want that blood on either of our hands.

  Angela’s eyes went wide with recognition. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My mother’s name was Donna Troy.”

  “Okay, that’s just Wonder Girl. What is it with these people and obscure comic book characters,” Darrin interjected.

  “It is not!” she screamed, raising the wrench over her head.

  Darrin cocked his pistol, and I jumped between them.

  “That’s enough!” I yelled. “It’s over, Angela. We know who you really are. I know about Patrick and Ralph. I know about your mother.” I swallowed hard. “I know about your dad, too.”

  She blinked hard. “Don’t talk about him.”

  “He used to beat you, right?” I held my hands out so that she could see they were empty, that I was no threat to her. “You, Patrick, and Ralph. I bet he beat your mother, too. You had to hide the bruises. That’s why you were always in long sleeves. It’s why you kept your bangs so long, to hide the bruises on your forehead. But Ralph couldn’t hide it when he knocked out his front tooth, could he? Is that what he used, Angela? A wrench like that one?”

  Her mouth began to tremble. “You couldn’t imagine what he did to us with this thing.” She looked at the wrench. “He almost killed us so many times. If it wasn’t for Patrick, I’d have never made it out of that house.” Her jaw clenched. “And my mother just sat there. She just let him do it. She’d have let itgo on forever if I didn’t stop it.”

  “You?” I asked, realizing that I had gotten at least one piece of this puzzle wrong. “Your mother wasn’t the one who lowered the car onto your father that day?”

  Angela scoffed loudly. “Please, that woman was a coward if I ever saw one. She’d have never saved us. Did you know he broke Patrick’s arm? He was trying to protect me, and my father took that wrench and snapped his arm in half like a twig. I knew after that that something had to be done.”

  Her eyes glazed over.

  “So, I took matters into my own hands. I waited until he was under that car, until his guard was down.” She shook her head. “It was just a lever. He never saw it coming.”

  “You killed your father?” Darrin asked, guns till drawn.

  “It was to save us,” she answered. “It did too. At least, for a while.” She was crying now. “But we didn’t have anything after that. Things were so hard. You have no idea. And my mother still wouldn’t lift a finger.” Angela shook her head. “There was a life insurance policy on Dad. Half a million dollars, but she wouldn’t touch it. She said it was blood money and that, if I used it, it would make me a killer. She said it would have been like I’d killed Dad for the money. But that’s not why I did it. I did it to keep all of us safe, and because he deserved it.”

  “Angela, you--”

  “You don’t understand!” She cut me off. “It wasn’t just the money. She couldn’t keep them after that. She wanted to send Patrick and Ralph back into the system. I couldn’t let that happen.”

  “Because, by then, you were already in love with him,” I said. It wasn’t a question.

  “He was always there for me. He saved me so many times. How could I not love him? I’d have done anything to be with him. So we ran away together.” Sh
e pursed her lips. “Except his brother didn’t approve, either. He said I was dead weight and that I couldn’t handle it.” She smiled. “But Patrick believed in me. We lived on the streets after that and, once we’d graduated, we got married. It was everything I’d ever wanted.”

  “So why did you kill him?” Darrin asked.

  “Because things changed,” she answered. “Life wasn’t the fairytale we wanted it to be. We wanted a child, but it was impossible for us. We tried to adopt, but it was so expensive. We didn’t have any money. Then I remembered someone who did.”

  “Your mother,” I said.

  “She had changed her name by then, wanted to start a new life, I guess. But you don’t forget your kids. Family is everything.” Her arm started to shake. “I just wanted a little of it, just thirty thousand dollars to get the adoption approved. But she wouldn’t give it to me. She said I needed to move on the way she had. She didn’t even care! She hadn’t even cashed the stupid policy in. Said it was here.” She looked around. “I never meant to kill her.”

  “So why’d you bring the wrench?” I asked.

  “Because I wanted to remind her of what she allowed us to endure. I wanted her to know that her sins weren’t absolved.” She bit her lip. “But I couldn’t handle it. Listening to her defend herself, to her promising me that she was better now and that she didn’t need the money; that I need the money, I just snapped.”

  “And Patrick saw you?” Darrin asked.

  “He was right there,” she nodded. “He freaked out at first, but then he helped me look. We might have found the policy too, if some stupid girl hadn’t come to the door with pies.”

  I stifled a gasp. I had walked in right at the moment of the murder.

  “Patrick couldn’t take it anymore. As soon as the door opened, he darted out the back door. I followed after him.” She shook her head. “I’ve been in this house fifty times since then. Every time this stupid couple leaves for vacation or goes to church, I sneak back in. I still haven’t been able to find it. I knew after Patrick died I was going to have to leave. But if I didn’t get the money, then all of this was for nothing. I just couldn’t let it all be for nothing.”