by Jessica Beck
“She was going to, but I sent her on. I have to drive to work in the morning, and I didn’t want to walk there in the dark.”
“That’s prudent of you, but she shouldn’t be left alone. Go on now, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
“There’s no doubt in my mind about that,” I said.
“And don’t forget to call Emma to tell her that she’s got her job back.”
“It’s already taken care of,” I said. “She’s starting work in the morning.”
“Good,” Momma said, and I walked out the door. “I’m glad that’s been taken care of. Good night, Suzanne.”
“’Night, Momma,” I answered.
As I left the house and got into my Jeep, I glanced up at the front porch and saw my mother standing there, framed in the silhouette of the open door, waving to me as though I were going off to the other side of the world and not just down the block. I waved back, and then headed over to Grace’s house.
* * *
“I put fresh sheets on the guest bed,” Grace explained, “and there are towels on the chair if you feel like a shower. If you don’t mind, I think I’m going to call it an early night tonight.”
“Hey, I’m the one who usually taps out first,” I said with a laugh.
“I know, but today took more out of me than I thought it would.”
I studied my friend for a second. “Emotionally, or physically?”
“A little of both. In fact, I believe I’m going to take one of those pills the doctor prescribed for me, and you’re welcome to one yourself, if you’d like.” We’d both been given prescriptions for something stronger to help us sleep, and Grace had filled hers earlier.
“I’m not that bad so far,” I said. “I think I’ll stick with what I’ve got.”
“Good night then, Suzanne.”
“Good night, Grace.”
I settled into the guest room, changed into my nightshirt, turned off the light, and tried to sleep. It was just after nine, and ordinarily there might be a hint of light left in the sky, but the overcast clouds had taken care of that. It might as well have been midnight from the lack of light coming in through the shades. I’d had a busy day after a full night’s rest, so there was no reason I shouldn’t be able to fall right to sleep.
Other than the fact that I was in a strange house, trying to sleep in a bed that wasn’t mine, and that my thoughts wouldn’t let go of the puzzle I was working on, trying to figure out who had killed Peter Morgan. With Leah, Bryan, and Kaye left on our list, I had to admit that I favored Bryan as the culprit. After all, he’d stood to gain the most by his brother’s death, and his temper was certainly no secret. Leah might have felt scorned by Peter, and Kaye was clearly jealous of Peter’s other lady friends, but I had to keep in mind that either one of them could have wanted to see Peter dead if they’d felt rejected. Love was a powerful motive, for both good and evil, and it could never be discounted. What might seem trivial to someone looking in from the outside might feel like the end of the world to a person going through the pain.
But which one was the killer? I needed more information, but I wasn’t sure how to get it. I believed that Grace and I had pretty much worn out our welcome with our three remaining suspects, so those were dead ends. I finally just got up, reached into my jeans pocket, and retrieved the key we’d found at Peter’s apartment, wondering where the safe was that it fit. We’d be turning it over to Bryan tomorrow, for what good it would do him. It had to be the key to more than a safe, though. Were Kaye’s love letters hidden away there, or was it something much more explosive? Did it hold the real reason Peter had been murdered?
That’s when I heard a creak coming from downstairs. It might have just been Grace’s house settling, or something that was perfectly normal, but for some reason, it put me on edge. I slipped on my jeans, stuffed the key back into my pocket, then put on my tennis shoes, keeping the nightshirt on as well. Opening the door, I stuck my head out into the hallway and heard something there again.
Was someone down there? I quietly slipped down the hallway and peeked inside Grace’s room. My eyes had grown accustomed to the lack of direct light, and I could make out things well enough to navigate without bumping into anything.
“Grace? Are you awake?” I asked softly.
I knew the answer before I even asked the question. Her slight snores told me that the pill she’d taken had kicked in. Grace was lost to the world, and if I was going to investigate the noises coming from downstairs, I was going to have to do it alone.
I crept back out of her bedroom and briefly went back into the guest room. The downstairs was quiet now, and I wondered if it had just been my imagination. I was well aware of the fact that my mind could manufacture things that weren’t really there when I was overly stimulated. For a second, I debated calling Chief Martin, but did I really need him coming over to Grace’s to prove to me that I had too active an imagination? I decided to compromise. I’d take my phone with me, along with anything I might be able to use as a weapon, and go downstairs to look around. Chances were good that nothing was wrong, and I could try to go back to sleep.
Then again, if someone were down there, I’d be ready to defend myself and call for help as well.
It seemed like a good plan at the time, anyway.
Back in the guest room, all I could find that I might be able to use as a weapon was the wooden dowel Grace used as a closet rack. It wasn’t as good as a baseball bat, but it would have to do. At least the heft of it felt good in my hand.
I crept down the stairs, and made a quick survey of the first floor. I don’t think I took a single breath, though I know that I must have.
It was all clear.
“You and your imagination,” I said softly to myself, laughing a little about how carried away I’d become.
Then I heard something in the basement.
At least I thought I did.
Slowly, I opened the door and peered down into the gloom. I didn’t see any movement, or hear a thing. I debated turning the light on, but if someone were there, I didn’t want them to know that I’d found them.
I walked down the steps carefully, ever aware of what surrounded me. In the past, Grace’s basement had always been just a storage area for the things she didn’t need or use every day, but suddenly, it took on a completely different feeling.
When I got to the last step, I decided that there were too many places for someone to hide down there. And then it hit me. Of the last three suspects, only Kaye had been insistent that Peter had hidden something of hers. Had she known about the money, or was there something far more valuable than cash or old love letters? Kaye had been insistent on Bryan’s porch when any sane person would have turned and run. She was after something big.
Something important enough to kill for, and those letters had to just be a ruse. It was the only way that every puzzle piece fit together.
I didn’t honestly believe that she was really there, but searching the house had allowed my mind to work out the solution.
On a lark, I reached out and flipped on the light.
That’s when someone knocked the clothes rod out of my hand.
It appeared that it hadn’t been my imagination after all.
I wasn’t alone.
“I knew it was you,” I said as I looked at the small ladies’ handgun Kaye was pointing at me. “There never were any love letters, were there?”
“Very good, Suzanne. Now hand me your cell phone.”
I had it still clutched in my other hand, so I couldn’t very well deny its existence, or even call Jake to tell him that I needed help. I’d fallen into the trap of believing that modern technology would save me in the end, but I had been wrong. As I handed it over, she tucked it into her jacket pocket with a smug look on her face.
Had I just given her my last hope of surviving this?
“At least tell me what is so valuable that you’d kill for it.”
I was afraid that she’d just ignore
me, but instead, she chose to indulge my request. “It’s easy enough. I just need that key, Suzanne, and I’ll show you.”
It suddenly burned hot in my pocket, but I wasn’t about to let her know that I had it on me. “What good is that going to do you? We don’t even know where the safe is. Whatever you’re looking for could be anywhere.”
“No, it’s here. I can feel it.” Kaye laughed at me then, a sound that raised the hairs on the back of my neck. She was on the edge, there was no doubt about it, and I didn’t want to push her over if I could help it. She explained, “Among Peter’s many faults was that he was blackmailing a rich businessman in Maple Hollow, and I plan to take the operation over myself now that he’s dead.”
“How did you find out about it?” I asked. As I did, I saw a slight movement behind her. Had Grace made it down the steps without either one of us seeing her? No, for a brief moment, I saw that it was Leah Gentry standing in the shadows! She must have followed Kaye there. But why wasn’t she trying to help me now? Maybe she wasn’t any more prepared to confront a killer than I was.
Kaye said, “I was at his apartment one afternoon, and while he was napping, I found the packet duct taped behind the toilet. From what I saw, it was pretty volatile stuff. I didn’t get a chance to see it all, though. He woke up and caught me.”
“He must have been furious,” I said, looking around for something I might use as a weapon. If I had the chance, I was going to fight back. Maybe, with Leah’s help, we could overpower her together. If not, I was still going to go down swinging. I might not be able to beat a gun with a more primitive weapon, but if I could mark her in some way, maybe Chief Martin would realize that she was the one who’d killed me. I’d seen people go to their graves without justice, and if there was the slightest chance, I was going to make sure that it didn’t happen to me. Kaye might be able to get away with killing all three of us, but she’d bear at least one mark from the battle.
“He grabbed my arms so hard he bruised me,” she said, pulling back the sleeve of her jacket to show me. I saw some fading discoloration there, so maybe she was telling me the truth. And why not? What possible reason did she have to lie to me right now?
“What happened to the packet after that?”
“He told me that he had stashed it in a safe place where no one would ever think to look, not even the safe’s owner. I didn’t get it then, but I do now.”
“You aren’t making any sense, you know that, right?” I asked, as I saw a thin steel rod left over from a construction project. It was rebar, something used in concrete work, and I knew that Grace’s dad had loved playing around with brick and mortar when he’d been alive. But how was I going to get to it? I needed Leah to do something to distract Kaye, if only for a second, but she was frozen in place, listening to our conversation as though she’d lost the ability to move or act.
It looked like I was on my own.
“Peter wasn’t making any sense, either, when he died, was he? I followed him that night, you know, watching him get drunk over her. When Trish threw him out of the Boxcar, I nearly had him. But then Burt Gentry came out of the diner just as I was about to pull Peter into the shadows, so I couldn’t get to him. I thought I’d lost him for good, but he walked over to Grace’s, and then got thrown out of here, too. You should have heard the way Grace slapped him. It sounded like the crack of a rifle. That’s when he found the paint and decided to redecorate your donut shop. I nearly got caught laughing when he threw that yellow paint on your building. He must have heard me, and I called over to him. That’s why he left the bucket right where it was and stumbled to the back of the Boxcar. I told him I had something for him that would ease his pain, and he was so drunk, he didn’t even question what I was doing.”
“But why did you kill him?” I asked, inching slowly closer and closer to the steel. “Was it all just about the money?”
“The blackmailing is just icing, Suzanne. The drunken fool told me that he never cared about me, or Leah, or any of the other women he’d bedded. He said that Grace was the love of his life, and that he’d ruined it.”
“Is that why you tried to kill Grace and me on the road during that wicked storm?”
She looked puzzled by the question. “What are you talking about?”
“So, it really was an accident?”
She laughed. “Boy, you really are paranoid, aren’t you? Though it does turn out this time that you were right. Someone is out to get you, and it turns out it’s me. In fact, I’m about to get rid of you like I did Peter. He should have known better than to declare his love for someone else.”
“And when he did, that’s when you hit him with the post.” It was all starting to make sense now. Kaye had a temper, and she couldn’t believe that Peter would ever choose anyone over her.
“He went down like a bag of sand,” she said with the hint of laughter in her voice. “I kept shoving him with it once he hit the ground, trying to make him get up and tell me that he was acting, but he never moved. I searched his pockets, but the only things I found were his wallet and his keys. I went back to his apartment, but I couldn’t find the packet anywhere, and I was afraid to make a mess. I didn’t want anyone to know that I’d been there.”
“But it was wrecked when we opened the door to clean it out,” I protested.
“That’s because I went back after the cops left. I kept thinking that I must have missed something, and at that point, I didn’t care who knew that I’d searched the place this time. I tore it up, but I still didn’t find a thing. I’ve been dying to know. Where did you find the money and the key?”
“It was stuffed up in the range hood,” I said, “hidden by the filter.”
A look of satisfaction overtook her face. “That was very smart of you, and it brings me back to why I’m here. I’ve already found Grace’s safe, but I still need that key.”
It was time to act. I couldn’t count on Leah anymore.
I pulled the key out of my pocket, but then I let it slip out of my hand, as though I were clumsy, or more likely, nervous. “Sorry, I guess I’m a little unsteady right now.”
“Pick it up,” she ordered.
This was it. Maybe a gunshot would trigger something in Leah to make her help me. I just hoped it wouldn’t be too late, then.
I reached down to get the key, keeping my gaze on Kaye the entire time.
Then I caught a movement behind her, and saw that Leah was suddenly out of her trance. She threw the nearest thing she could find at Kaye, an old Barbie doll sitting on top of a box of other discards. It wouldn’t have done much damage under any circumstances, and I wondered how clearly Leah was thinking to choose that as her weapon, but it did manage to distract Kaye. She swung the gun around and shot at Leah, the explosion bouncing off the concrete block walls of the basement and suddenly filling the air with the unmistakable scent of gunpowder.
I was deafened by the blast, but I couldn’t let that stop me.
I grabbed the steel bar and brought it down on Kaye’s shoulder, though I’d been aiming for the back of her head, a kind of poetic justice. Either she’d shifted slightly at the last second, though, or my aim was off. Either way, the force of the blow still managed to knock the gun out of her hand. As we both scrambled for it, I managed to get there first, just barely, but we were too close for me to use it against her, not that I was sure that I could, even given the circumstances. Kaye and I struggled for it. She had a strength I never imagined that she might possess, and I knew that I was losing the battle. If I let go of the gun, I knew I’d be dead a few seconds later. Right now, I couldn’t worry about Leah, or Grace, or even Jake. I was in the fight of my life, and I knew it. As we wrestled for the weapon, both of us lying on the floor struggling to get final control, I saw a shadow and some movement above us. Had Kaye missed when she’d shot at Leah? Was she running away now, leaving me to die alone? No, the motion was coming down the stairs, I could see that much, but only that.
Then I saw Grace standing ne
ar us in her nightgown, the discarded steel bar I’d used now in her hands. She held it as though it were a dagger, and I could see it penetrating Kaye’s heart in my mind.
“Don’t kill her, Grace,” I yelled out. “She’s not worth it.”
“You can’t trick me like that, Suzanne. I’m not stupid,” Kaye said.
Grace seemed to realize what I was saying. She turned the bar from a sword to a club, and hit Kaye a little harder than I would have liked.
It did what it had been meant to do, though. Kaye’s grip eased as she lost consciousness, and I grabbed the gun before she could come out of it.
If she came out of it.
“What happened to Leah?” I asked as I struggled to stand. “Is she dead?”
Grace and I hurried over to see, and I pulled back when I spotted her on the floor, bleeding from her temple.
“She’s dead, isn’t she?” I asked through sobs that came unbidden. Leah had tried to help me, and she’d paid for it with her life.
“Hey, don’t cry for me just yet, Suzanne. I’m okay,” Leah said as she struggled to sit up. “It barely nicked me.”
Grace studied the crease on her forehead and then said, “Head wounds are the worst, aren’t they?”
Leah nodded, holding a bit of one of Grace’s old ballet costumes firmly to the wound. “What happened to Kaye?”
“She’s just knocked out. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s going to be okay,” I said as I heard her start to moan.
Grace patted her gown, and then said, “Do either one of you have a cell phone on you? Mine’s upstairs.”
“Mine’s in her pocket,” I said, not wanting to look for it at the moment.
“I’ll call the police,” Leah said as she reached for hers.
“Ask for Chief Martin,” I said. “He deserves to hear this from us directly.”
As we waited for everyone to show up, I asked, “Leah, there’s one thing that I haven’t figured out yet. Why did you keep running away from us, if you were just trying to solve the case yourself?”
