“That still doesn’t explain why you killed your husband,” Darrin said.
“Because she was pregnant,” I answered.
Once again, her eyes went wide.
“I saw the medications in your room the day of Patrick’s wake. They’re common medicines used to treat the symptoms of pregnancy.”
“You got me,” Angela answered.
“But why--”
“And the beds,” I spoke over Darrin. “The king bed in your room was really just two double beds pushed together. My guess is the two of you weren’t even sleeping in the same room anymore, and that you rearranged things to keep up appearances and divert suspicion from you during the wake.”
“What are you getting at?” Darrin asked, his eyes darting over at me.
“Once you got here, once you convinced Patrick to stay here to look for the money, he didn’t want to leave, did he?” I asked Angela.
“He was such an idiot,” she answered, her teeth ground together. “He just wanted to start over, like he had forgotten everything that happened to us, everything we wanted. That money was ours! We earned it with every bruise!”
“So the two of you grew apart,” I said. “So far apart actually, that you did something you never thought you’d do.”
Angela shuffled uncomfortably.
“You got pregnant, but it wasn’t by your husband. You knew that when he found that out, he’d not only leave you. He’d expose all your secrets, too.”
“He had his stupid brother prattling on in his ear. He was trying to convince him to turn me in to the authorities. I knew that when he found out that I had been cheating on him, he’d do it. I couldn’t let that happen.”
“So you took a wrench to him, too?” I asked.
“It seemed poetic enough,” she answered. “It tied his death to a murder that was committed before anyone even knew I was in town. So I killed him, and when Ralph came to confront me about it, I showed him my pregnancy test. There was no way for him to know his brother wasn’t the father and, after everything they’d been through, all I had to do was dangle the idea of his future niece or nephew growing up in the system to get him to fold. He left, and I faked the attempt at my life in the garage. I thought that was the end of it. He’d be out of my life, I’d wait a suitable amount of time to marry the real father of my child, and get out of town, hopefully after finding what’s rightfully mine.”
Her face got red.
“But that wasn’t good enough for the two of you. You kept digging and digging. You didn’t stop until you forced me to kill Ralph. I had to tie up that loose end. His death is on the both of you!”
“You’re psychotic,” Darrin said. “Now drop the weapon.”
“You don’t get to judge me!” She yelled. “And you absolutely don’t get to arrest me!”
Quickly, she pulled a walkie-talkie out if her pocket.
“Now!” she yelled into the mouthpiece.
As soon as the words left her mouth, the lights in the house went off. I heard a ruckus, Darrin grunting, something falling to the floor, and then a set of scurrying feet head down the stairs.
By the time I pulled the phone out of my pocket and flipped on the flashlight app, it was too late.
Darrin was holding his hand, his gun on the floor.
And Angela was out of sight.
25
“Are you okay?” I asked, moving my phone’s flashlight to Darrin. He was holding his hand, his mouth a tight, hard line.
“I’m fine,” he answered. “Grab my gun.”
“Um…I’m not much of a ‘gun’ person,” I said apprehensively, looking at the pistol as it lay on the floor beside us.
“Well, I’m afraid you’re going to have to be, at least for now,” Darrin said. He stood up, still clutching his hand. “I think Angela broke my hand with that wrench and I’m not much of a shot when I have to go lefty. Everyone knows it too.”
“Fine,” I groaned, leaning down and hesitantly picking up the gun. I held it away from me and daintily with two fingers. I might have been a lot of things in my life (or, more aptly, in my two lives) but a huntsman was not one of them.
When I was a kid, I wanted to be a cop. That much was true. But I never actually thought it was a possibility. I never went through any of the training. And Dad’s guns were not something he just kept laying around haphazardly.
As it was, I had touched a gun twice before in my life. Once, was when Dad let me shoot at a target in the backyard (I hit the ground), and secondly, during the Ammo Fair six years ago in Dalton. Harvey asked me to hand him a rifle from the table and, even though it wasn’t loaded, I still cringed a little as I handed it over.
This was the third time, and I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be a charm.
“Just hold it upright. You won’t have to shoot it,” Darrin assured me. “We just have to make her believe you will if she forces our hand.”
“Forces our hand?” I asked, my eyes going wide. This was happening, and it was going to be more real than I had ever imagined.
“She’s getting away. We need to go after her,” Darrin said, starting down the stairs.
He was still holding his hand as we darted down the dark stairs, lit only by the flashlight app on my phone.
Of course, if I couldn’t stop my hand from shaking while he was in front of me, a broken hand wouldn’t hold a candle to the hole I’d accidentally shoot in Darrin’s back.
We made it to the bottom of the stairs and out the door of the house, somehow magically misfire free.
The fireworks were still going on, and the lights were on to the rest of the town. Whoever cut the power only did so to Mrs. Hoover’s house.
“Angela has a partner,” I said breathlessly.
“Or a hired gun,” Darrin answered. “It doesn’t matter. Her cover’s blown. Money or not, she’s going to have to get out of town now. If we don’t find her tonight, then she’s gone for good.”
“But she’s nowhere in sight,” I said, looking around.
“Then, it’s a good thing I know exactly where she’s headed,” Darrin answered.
“Do tell,” I said, my eyes darting over at the new sheriff quizzically.
“Didn’t you see her clothes? She’s dressed for the festival.”
“So?” I answered. “So is everybody in town. We both are,” I said, looking at his peach vest and coat and trying not to notice how well both items fit him.
“Right, but she’s a recent widow,” Darrin replied. “No one would have thought twice about her not showing up to the festivities. So why would someone who had a plan to enact make a point of wasting her limited time dressing and showing up for the Peach Festival when what she really wanted was over here?”
“The same reason she brought the wrench,” I answered, gleaming at what Darrin was getting at.
“Right,” he explained. “Insurance. If someone did happen in on her while she was looking for proof of the policy, she could murder them with the wrench. The murder weapon alone would have tied to a series of crimes that no one would have suspected her of.”
“And the peach dress would allow her to blend in with the crowd if that should fall through.” I shook my head. “She’s headed to the festival. We have to stop her.”
Darrin and I made it to the Peach Festival just as the fireworks were finishing up. Loud bangs and booms filled the night sky, but Darrin and I were being very nonchalant.
We didn’t want to cause mass panic by rushing into the crowd, waving a pistol around, and saying there was a murderer among us. That was the last thing we needed. Still, I needed to be armed, given the trouble we were in. So Darrin lent me his extra pistol, which wasn’t exactly protocol but neither was reincarnation. Sliding the piece into the peach clutch that matched my floral peach dress, but leaving the unzipped for easy access.
Having enjoyed the fireworks, the crowd was beginning to spread out again. I knew Peggy would be looking for me to resume my position at the pie stand, but that wa
s going to have to wait.
Believe it or not, there were more important things going on in Second Springs than peaches, pies, or the combination of the two.
“Keep a watchful eye,” Darrin said. “Someone hiding would likely try to blend in. So look for the largest crowds.”
“I know,” I answered. “My father…um, used to watch a lot of Law and Order.”
“You were about to say that your father taught you that, weren’t you?” Darrin asked, keeping his eyes on the crowds and, mercifully, not on me. “Because he was the sheriff. Because you think you’re Rita Clarke.” He sighed. “Of all the people I’ve ever met, you are definitely the most--”
“Interesting?” I finished, looking through the patchy crowds myself.
“I was going to say something much harsher, but let’s just go with complicated and split the difference.” His tone got a lot more serious as he continued. “You know, after this, you’re going to have to--”
“I can’t think about what happens after this,” I answered. And I really couldn’t. If I solved this murder, that would mean I would, as Charlie put it, move on. Did that mean Heaven? Did it mean being reincarnated again? Did it mean something else entirely, something that human beings have never even contemplated in regards to life after death? Whatever it was, it certainly meant that I wouldn’t be here anymore. I would leave Aiden and Peggy. I would leave Second Springs. I would leave my dad. At this point, even the thought of leaving Darrin brought up more than a little sadness in my heart.
No. I couldn’t think about that right now. I just needed to focus on making this right.
“Do you see her?” Darrin asked.
“I see a lot of ‘hers,'” I said. “And they’re all wearing peach dresses. “She had too big of a head start. This is impossible.”
“We should split up,” Darrin suggested. “You go left. I’ll go right. We’ll circle the perimeter and meet in the middle. If you see her--”
“I’ll scream,” I answered.
Nodding, I headed off to the left, keeping a hand in my clutch around the base of his backup pistol.
I made sure to steer clear of Peggy who seemed very disheveled, looking for me on her tippy toes.
Darting around her, I almost ran smack dab into Dad. Thankfully, he didn’t see me as I scooted the other way. He had told me to keep my distance from this case and, I certainly hadn’t done that. Though the body in which I now resided it wasn’t technically his daughter’s, disobeying him so blatantly still pulled at me. Explaining it to him wasn’t something I needed to add to my metaphorical plate right now.
I moved through the festival pretty handily. For once, I was glad to not be Rita Clarke -- she’d have been stopped by every person at this event. She’d have had to make small talk and be invested in the lives of those around her.
Rita Redoux on the other hand was practically invisible. Meaning, I could do what I needed to do: find Angela.
I was halfway through the perimeter when I saw her. She was, as Darrin figured, in the middle of one of the biggest crowds in the entire place. She had her hands clasped together, and she was talking to a group of people that included, among other people, Officer Dunberry.
If attempting to throw myself out of his moving squad car wasn’t enough to do the trick, the poor guy was definitely going to think I was crazy after this.
“Hey!” I yelled, fumbling at the pistol in my clutch. “Darrin!”
The clutch fell away, and I was left with only the pistol.
“Oh my God! She’s got a gun!” I heard someone scream.
“Darrin!” I shouted again, but things were starting to spin out of control. People were rushing away from me, scared and staring at me like I was the killer.
Which was probably what all of them thought now.
“Hold it right there, Little Lady,” Officer Dunberry said, reaching for his gun around his massive belly.
But I wasn’t paying him any attention. No. My focus was completely on Angela. She’d no doubt try to get away again, but I wasn’t going to let that happen. So, as people bolted away from me, screaming as you figure they might when confronted with a perceived murderer brandishing a weapon, my eyes stayed trained on Angela.
It didn’t go unnoticed.
“Don’t move,” I said, pointing the gun at her. She didn’t know me. She had no idea that it would have taken an executive order to force my finger to pull that trigger.
As such, she stayed put.
However, Officer Dunberry's gun was pointed at me now. It was like one of those old-fashioned standoffs you see in the Westerns, except he had pie on his shirt and I had flour in my hair.
It wouldn’t matter. Even if he didn’t hear my shouts, there was no way Darrin didn’t notice this. He’d be here in seconds and, with him, validation.
We were about to put an end to all of this.
As though she heard the thoughts lying against my brain, Angela jumped into action. I thought about pulling the trigger but, of course, I didn’t. Instead, I watched her pull a lighter from her behind her back, strike it, and throw it into a large brown box sitting beside her.
It took about three seconds for me to figure out what the box contained.
Just long enough for the first Roman candle to go off.
Like a chain reaction no one saw coming, fireworks started exploding around us. One loud boom sounded after another. Sparks began shooting violently out of the box until all I could see was the mayhem of multicolored missiles flying around our heads.
I tried to keep sight of Angela, the creator of this chaos, but a particularly bright green dragon looking thing shot across my line of sight, blinding me.
When my eyes regain their focus, it was just in time to see a fireball shooting toward my head. I flinched just in time to feel a quick force pushing me to the ground.
Once again, Sheriff Darrin Dash was on top of me. Once again, he had saved me.
“Are you okay?” he asked breathlessly.
“Been better honestly,” I answered. “Angela…”
He looked up, rolling on his side and hopping back up.
“She’s gone,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Then we have to find her,” I said, standing to meet him.
“And how do you suggest we do that?” he answered. “My men are already trying to quiet this near riot down, and we have no idea where she’s headed other than out of town.” He shook his head. “So unless you have another hunch like that life insurance policy tucked up your sleeve, I’m not sure what our next move should be.”
“Hunch?” I asked, furrowing my brow.
“You knew Angela would be looking for something inside Mrs. Hoover’s house.”
“That wasn’t a hunch,” I answered. “The place was disheveled that night. There were holes in the floor.”
“What are you talking about?” Darrin asked.
“I know. We’re not dealing with the whole ‘reincarnated’ aspect of things, but--”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” He shook his head. “There were no holes in the floor. The place wasn’t trashed at all. I read all the police reports. They even mentioned how untouched the place was.”
“That-that doesn’t make any sense,” I answered. My mind flashed back to that night, to the house, the way things were thrown about, the holes dug into the floor. “It was definitely…”
I gasped as all of it clicked into place.
And then my heart broke.
“I-I know where Angela is going,” I said softly.
“What? How?” Darrin asked.
“Because I know who her accomplice is,” I said, swallowing hard. “Though I really wish I didn’t.”
26
Darrin sighed as he pulled to a stop in front of the area where I directed him.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked, looking over at me with a familiar heaviness in his eyes.
I wanted to say no. More than anything, I wanted to be wrong about this. Bu
t I knew I wasn’t. It made too much sense. The pieces all fit together too perfectly.
I didn’t answer, but that seemed to be a loud enough response for Darrin.
“Fair enough,” he answered, and ran a hand through his hair. It seemed strange to me, with the light of a nearby streetlamp reflecting off his eyes, how familiar I had become with his face.
He irked me so much when I returned here. He had replaced my father, after all. And he had been so cocky about it. He still was, in fact and-though I had to put it on the back burner, the truth was he did still irk me.
But, I also respected him.
“My good hand is still busted,” he said, glancing over at me. “And he’ll know how big of a disadvantage that is for me more than most.”
“Just give it to me,” I answered.
His jaw set. “You don’t have to shoot it,” he said, handing it to me carefully.
“I’m not sure what I’ll have to do anymore,” I responded. I slid out of the car, closing the door quietly as not to alert Angela or her accomplice to our presence. I didn’t want to give them any time to get away. In order to prove this, I’d have to catch them together. It was the only way anyone would believe it. It was the only way I would believe it.
“You need to stay behind me, Rita,” Darrin said, settling in front of me. I had wrapped his injured hand with a cloth. It wasn’t a permanent solution, but it would have to make due until we could get him to a hospital.
“I’m the one with the gun,” I scoffed.
“And I’m the one with the badge,” he retorted.
“Side by side?” I suggested, giving him a once over.
“Only until something bad happens,” he relented. “After that, you can consider me your human shield.”
“My hero,” I muttered, but that was the thing. I didn’t want a hero. I had already died from this and, if it turned out that this return was a short lived one and I would be on my way to some big, sparkly afterlife after tonight, then I could probably deal with that.
Twice Baked Murder Page 15
