by Sara Rosett
“Glad you dropped in. I’ll get your coats,” Mitch said, glancing down at the drinks in his arms.
“Here, I’ll take them,” I said. I said good-bye to them and went through the screened-in porch to the back patio. The sun had set and the floodlights were the only pool of light in the blackness. It was chilly and extremely quiet outside, except for two couples huddled on the lawn furniture. I flipped open the first ice chest and dumped the beer in.
Someone in the group on the patio said, “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m going to get more of that turkey.”
Another person asked, “So, who came up with the idea of frying a turkey in a vat of boiling oil? It sounds like something out of a torture chamber.”
Behind me, the first person said, “Are you kidding? This is the South. We deep-fry veggies here, so anything’s game. In fact, I’m surprised someone didn’t think of it sooner.” Their voices faded as the screen closed.
I grabbed the water bottles. As I lunged to the right to put them in the other ice chest, something whooshed past my shoulder.
I twisted around and saw Topaz. She held something in her hands, her grip cinched low on one end.
An Everything In Its Place Tip for an Organized Party
In case of disaster, have on hand
Paper towels.
Club soda.
Extra garbage bags.
Extra grill lighter.
Fire extinguisher.
Also, if your party is outdoors, have a contingency plan to move everything indoors in case of bad weather.
Chapter Thirty-two
“Topaz…what are you doing?”
She positioned herself, arms bent at the elbows, like a batter getting ready to take a swing at a fastball. It was too dark to see what she held, but it was long and heavy, that much I could tell.
Then she swung.
At my head. I shifted to one side and ducked lower. There wasn’t that much room to go down because I was already crouching near the ground.
She hit the open ice chest. Icy water and bottles exploded over us.
I scrambled backward and put the row of ice chests between us. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what’s going on here. I saw the postcard on your refrigerator and the list of incoming calls on your phone. You know.”
Okay, I guess playing dumb—never high on my list of things to do—was out. My gaze skittered between that heavy-duty stick that she now held over one shoulder and the brightly lit windows behind her. The party rolled on, groups of people moving from room to room. I heard a muted burst of laughter. Chances were that someone would come outside soon. After all, the beer was out here. I wished I’d opened some windows, but they were closed and the volume of the music and conversation would drown out any screams from me.
There was the back gate. I could try and make a run for it, but I nixed that plan before it was fully formed. There was no way I was turning my back on her, especially when she was pummeling things in her path.
I inched to the left, to get a better angle on the door, and said, “Waraday knows that Topaz is really dead and he knows that Jodi discovered you’d taken Topaz’s identity. Even if you get rid of me, you’re still busted. You’d be better off turning yourself in. Own up to your mistake and all that.”
“You’re almost as naïve as Topaz was.” Her face looked harsher than I remembered. Her eyes were narrower and her jaw was clenched. How could I have ever thought she was Topaz? It was like a mask had been removed and I could see the anger and hate that had been just below the surface.
“You mean you killed her, too?” I asked, my voice screeching.
“No, I did not kill Topaz.” She sounded almost offended. “She died in the storm. Drowned. I was going to tell them who she was…” Her words slowed down and even though she gazed at me, I knew she wasn’t seeing me. “When I saw her lying there…it was hard enough to recognize her. The idea popped into my head. Be her. Take her life.” Her mental focus snapped back and her gaze bored into me. “It wasn’t like it made a difference. She hadn’t been in touch with her family for years. They probably thought she was dead anyway. And we looked alike, people had commented on it. It was like an exchange. They were so overwhelmed with bodies it wasn’t like they were going to do an in-depth investigation. I gave them my name and walked out of there a new woman.”
“So if you didn’t kill her, why did you say she was naïve?”
Topaz laughed. “Because she believed me when I said my boyfriend had beat me up and I needed to get out of Lubbock.”
“But she hired you as her assistant.” I’d finally figured out what she had in her hands. It was a tire iron. She wiggled it and made a dismissive face. “Not at first. She just told me to hop in her car, that I could go as far as Houston with her. That was where she was heading that day. I stuck with her. Made myself useful. It didn’t take her long to figure out she could make more money with me than without me.”
She raised her arms and sized up the distance between us.
“You really should reconsider. Turning yourself in is the best way to go. Like I said, Waraday knows the whole story.”
“Waraday’s never going to see me again. You either, for that matter. You’re going to disappear, just like Jodi.” She took a step toward me and tightened her grip on the heavy bar. “The cable channels will eat it up, won’t they? Two women disappear after living in the same house. Perhaps it’s haunted or cursed. There’s a huge range of story lines there.”
“That won’t happen. Waraday knows about you, and I reported the cut gas line and my stolen car. He’ll connect you with those things.”
She laughed. “Sorry, but you don’t leave much evidence when you hot-wire a car and then burn it.”
“He’ll find something. Can’t you see it’s all unraveling?” I said, glancing at the windows. I didn’t think I could keep her talking much longer. Weren’t any of those throngs of people inside thirsty?
She lunged. I kicked one of the ice chests with all my strength. Water gushed over the patio and Topaz, reflexively, jumped back.
I ran for the back door, splashing through the water, and praying I didn’t slip. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Topaz sprinting away from me, crossing the patio diagonally. She must have decided to make a run for it and was heading for the gate on the side of the yard. I slowed down to navigate through the lawn furniture we’d scattered around the patio and saw a movement at the far corner of the patio where Topaz had been heading. She stood, feet planted squarely, as she took a swing at the turkey fryer. The metal clanged when the tire iron made contact and oil raced across the patio.
I froze for a second. A cascade of hot oil encircled the steps to the screened-in porch and door. It was too far to jump. I knew I couldn’t clear the distance from where I stood to the bottom step.
I backed up a step, then stopped. I still didn’t want to turn my back on her. I didn’t know if I could outrun her and I knew I’d have to slow down when I got to the fence anyway. That wasn’t an option, but standing here wasn’t an option either because the patio was designed to slope slightly away from the house so rainwater would run away from the foundation. The oil seeped toward me.
I jumped on one of Abby’s lawn chairs and the hot oil slid beneath it. Steam hissed as it met the cold water.
I shifted my feet on the chair to make sure I was balanced. I took a deep breath and—odd as it sounds—felt myself relax a little. My heartbeat slowed down from hammering to merely thumping. The upside to being surrounded by hot oil was that Topaz wasn’t coming after me here. I was safe. Sort of. “So we’re just going to wait it out? This will be kind of hard to explain to Waraday when he arrives,” I said as I looked at the sheet of oil covering the patio.
She smiled. “No, we’re not going to wait it out.” She walked over to the grill and picked up the lighter that Mitch kept there. She tightened her finger on the trigger and a golden flame appeared at the end.
My heartbeat jolted back into o
verdrive.
She lowered her hand and the flame hovered inches above the oil.
My breath snagged in my throat. I had to do something. I looked around frantically. I grabbed a lawn chair beside me and threw it as hard as I could in her direction. She dodged it easily.
Stupid. My aim was terrible. I threw like a girl. I changed my strategy. I grabbed another chair and tossed it at the screened-in porch. A metallic clang rang out as it hit the screen door.
“No one will hear that over the music.”
She was laughing at me. Anger threaded through my fear and I picked up the small plastic-topped end table and threw it at her. Either my aim or my luck was better. She skittered backward, then yelped as it hit her hand. She must have dropped the lighter, because she cursed and patted the grass around her feet.
I shifted my feet nervously. I was running out of ammunition. There was only one more chair within reach. I balanced over the oil, dragged it to me, then heaved it at the porch. It ripped through the screen and slammed against one of the living room windows.
Topaz stood. She’d found the lighter and I didn’t know what I was going to do.
“Mary Bertram!” She flinched at the sound of the commanding male voice behind her.
The back door banged open. People from the party rushed onto the screened-in porch. A tall figure leapt down the porch steps, jumped from the bottom step over the oil, and flattened Topaz with a flying tackle.
Suddenly it seemed as if people were everywhere. “Stay clear of the concrete,” a voice barked, and this time I recognized it as Waraday. “There’s hot oil on it.” The person who’d taken down Topaz stood up. I blinked. It was Mitch. He had a huge grass stain on his left shoulder. He gingerly flexed his arm as he looked at me with a bit of a grin on his face.
He stepped away as Waraday handcuffed Topaz. Mitch shoved the few remaining chairs together and made a sort of bridge to get to me. He gathered me into a hug, then pulled back. “Why was Topaz trying to set fire to our patio with you in the middle of it?”
“Long story. Let’s get out of here,” I said. I’d spent enough time on my perch. I wanted down. Mitch took my hand and as we picked our way carefully back across the chairs I said, “She’s not really Topaz.” I swallowed. My throat felt bristly. “Topaz is dead. That woman is Mary Bertram. She killed Jodi because Jodi found out she wasn’t who she said she was.”
“And I suppose you figured it out?”
I smiled. “Yes. All the pieces sort of fell together tonight. That’s what I was going to tell you in the kitchen. I didn’t realize she was out here. I was never so glad to see you, but you scared me to death when you did that flying tackle thing.”
Mitch rotated his shoulder. “Yeah. I haven’t done that since college. I think I’m going to be sore tomorrow. I’m getting old.”
People on the porch were shouting questions and Waraday’s deputies in the yard were shouting back. Sirens blared from the front yard. “Sorry to ruin the party. At least your squadron commander left before all this happened,” I said, surveying the patio. The oil and water were swirling together, making weird patterns around the chairs and ice chests.
“Are you kidding? You were worried about hosting a good party, right?” Mitch rested his forehead against mine. “This will be the most talked about party in the history of the squadron, the one where I rescued you from the woman who wanted to burn you up. No one’s ever going to top that. And you were worried about entertainment.”
Abby perched on one of the bar stools. She pushed the bowl of candy away. “Keep that over there. I’ve already eaten enough of that tonight.”
I could hear the kids outside on the front lawn. Nadia was with them, taking pictures of Halloween costumes, while Mitch, Jeff, and Kyle were positioning hay bales on the trailer for the hayride.
I stacked the pizza boxes near the trash can, then went to the sink. “Let me get these dishes out of the way before we leave,” I said, rinsing sippy cups and small plastic utensils.
Abby hopped up. “Here, I’ll help.”
“I’ve got it. Almost done, in fact.” I stacked the dishes in the dishwasher. “It’s funny, but I haven’t minded doing dishes at all, lately. It used to seem so mundane, but now I’m glad to have some normalcy, even boredom, in my life.”
“I can see why, after almost being toasted by a turkey fryer.” Abby sat back down and propped her chin on her hand. “You know what I don’t understand? Why did Topaz—or what’s her real name?”
“Mary.” I closed the dishwasher and dried my hands on a towel.
“Why did Mary make Jodi’s keys into earrings? That’s so…bizarre.”
“I know, but I guess she figured hiding them in plain sight was the safest thing to do. But what’s even weirder is that she kept Jodi’s purse and hat. I talked to Colleen after the funeral earlier this week. She said when Mary’s house was searched they found those things along with the map of Florida stashed in a closet. I guess she kept them so she could plant them later like she did with the water and energy bar.”
“Did you go to the funeral?” Abby asked.
I nodded. “It was sad, but it seemed like there was a feeling of relief, too. No media either, which was another reprieve for Nita and Gerald. And me. I’m so glad that Chelsea O’Mara wasn’t there. I was afraid she’d be there to fire questions at me about Jodi’s notebook.”
“She’s moved on. I saw her reporting yesterday about whether or not some movie star has a baby bump.”
“Can you imagine how awful that lifestyle would be? Having the media monitor your weight and if you gained five or ten pounds, they’d think you might be pregnant?”
“Horrible,” Abby said as she leaned over and plucked a chocolate Kiss out of the bowl. “There are some benefits to being a regular old nobody.”
“True.” I unwrapped another Kiss and popped it in my mouth.
“Where did you find Jodi’s notebook?”
“Over here,” I said, and I pointed to the drawers.
Abby smoothed out her square of foil. “Why did she hide just the one notebook?” she asked. “If she had all the information on Topaz and Mary, why didn’t she put that in the notebook?”
I leaned on the counter and shook my head. “I don’t know. Maybe she was going to, but didn’t get it hidden before she was attacked? I don’t think we’ll ever know for sure. When Mary came back here that night, I think she did a thorough search of Jodi’s office and took anything related to her and Topaz.”
“It’s a good thing Jodi managed to hide the one notebook, then. Otherwise…”
“I know.”
Livvy burst in the front door. “Dad says we’re almost ready.”
I turned on the dishwasher and we went outside. “It’s a hayride. It’s a hayride. It’s a hayride.” Livvy, usually so reserved and thoughtful about everything, was giddy with delight, practically jumping up and down. Compared to the other kids, she was relatively calm. They were running in circles at full speed on our lawn. We had two fairy princesses, a butterfly, a cheerleader, Superman, and one Johnny Depp—inspired pirate who kept losing his dreadlocks.
“She looks so cute. So original,” Abby said from beside me, her gaze on Livvy.
I smiled. “I know. I wanted her to dress up in something more…feminine.” I’d suggested a princess, a ballerina, and a mermaid, but no. She wanted to be David, as in David and Goliath. When I’d asked why she’d picked that costume, she’d said, “Because Dad can be Goliath,” like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
So Livvy was outfitted in one of Mitch’s white shirts that went down to her knees. I’d wrapped a leather belt around her waist three times and she had a plastic toy slingshot in one hand and a bag of marbles in the other. “I think the slingshot was the main reason she picked that costume.”
So far, Mitch had managed to put off dressing up like Goliath. I thought he was counting on candy wiping the idea out of Livvy’s mind, but I knew she wouldn’t forget. I was l
ooking forward to the show.
To one side of our yard, Nadia crouched low as she photographed Nathan in his cow costume. She shifted and focused on her girls. Ribbons streamed out behind her daughters—they were the fairy princesses in shades of pink and purple.
I saw Nita at the wheel of her gold car slowly pull away from the curb in front of Dorthea’s house. She saw me and waved. Dorthea stood with her hand braced on the mailbox, watching the car creep carefully around the hayride trailer, then signal at the end of the block.
I said to Abby, “Do you mind watching Livvy and Nathan for a second? I want to run over and ask Dorthea how Nita’s doing.”
“Sure, go ahead,” Abby said, and I hurried across the street.
“You have quite a crowd over there,” Dorthea said, smiling as she watched the kids.
“Yes. They’re a bit hyper right now.”
“Oh, they’re fine. Let ’em run all they want.”
“I saw Nita leaving. How’s she doing?”
Dorthea gazed up the street and shook her head. “How well can you be after burying your only daughter just a few days ago?”
I nodded. There was only one answer for that. Dorthea turned and I walked with her as she slowly crossed her lawn, climbed the steps to the porch, and took a seat on her glider. She said, “Nita drops in sometimes. I know she walks that gravel path quite a bit. Seems to help her.”
“I’m glad you’re there for her.”
Dorthea pulled a bucket of candy into place beside her and said, “Nita and Gerald have plenty of friends. We’ll keep an eye on them. Colleen checks in on them every few days.”
I took a seat beside her on the glider. “That’s good. Colleen is handling it okay, too?” I asked. Of everyone, she’d been the one person who’d been most adamant in refusing to even consider the possibility that Jodi might not come back.
“Seems to be. I think we all knew, deep down, that the chances of her being alive were pretty slim.”
We were silent for a moment and watched the kids flitter across the lawn. Finally, Dorthea said, “Nita tells me Detective Waraday and Colleen are on the verge of being ‘an item.’”
