by Sharon Kleve
“Her kids are flying in tonight. They don’t have much time off so I suggested Saint August’s church. I’ve been told she went to services there on occasion. The service is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. It will be short, and I can’t imagine a lot of people showing up. She made a lot of enemies.”
“I agree, but I’ll be there.”
“I’m sure they would appreciate that. The kids will be told about her cause of death, but they don’t need to know what she was up to.”
I nodded and got up to leave. “I think I am going to check in at the bakery and then go home.”
“I wish I could do the same...” Sheriff Bixby closed the file as I left.
THE BAKERY WAS FULLY staffed, and they had plenty of pies, so I left Suzie in charge and drove home. I cooked a frozen pizza and fed it to Vega. He showered, shaved, dressed and walked in circles while I watched from a safe distance with my stun gun fully charged. He was drossy enough I was confident I could drop him if I needed to.
“My brother, Vance, is getting out of prison real soon. Let me go and we’ll both disappear.”
Taking care of Vega sucked. I would love to get rid of him, but he had been here going on two weeks. It seemed like an impossible task to simply let him go. “What was he in prison for?”
He scowled. “None of your business!” he shouted and kept walking around the room.
“Fine. Your time is up. Get back into the bathroom.” My patience was wearing thin.
He snarled and flexed his hand into a fist.
“So, that’s how it’s going to be.” I stepped toward him and pointed the stun gun at his chest.
After another snarl, he stopped walking. “He was accused of rape. He’s served his time and now he wants to start over. My grandad has a cabin not far from here and he was going to move in there, but I can convince him we need to move somewhere else.”
“Who did he rape?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know, it happened in Colorado. My parents won’t talk about it and neither will he. I guess I don’t want to know. He’s always had a bad temper too. He used to beat the crap out of me when we were kids...”
His speech was slowing, he was finally getting drowsy. “What if he doesn’t want to move away?”
“He told me he has money—hidden money. I’ll threaten to tell my parents—they paid for his defense. I’m sure they would be pissed if they knew he had money and didn’t use it.”
“That make senses, I guess.”
“Will you let me go?” he pleaded.
“Get in the bathroom without a fuss and I’ll think about it.”
“Fine, but I wouldn’t wait too long. When he comes looking for me and I’m missing, he won’t be happy...”
Great. Now I had to worry about Vega’s psychotic, rapist brother.
When he fell asleep, I slowly made my way upstairs. I was hungry, but nothing sounded good, except Anderson. He sounded really good.
I dialed his cell phone and he answered after the first ring.
“Hi there. How are you?”
“I’m okay. Is the dinner offer still open?”
“Absolutely. Where do you want to go? I’m off in about an hour, I can come by and pick you up.”
“I’m not at work. I came home early. Why don’t I pick something up and meet you at your place? Would that be all right?” If he agreed, I knew I wouldn’t be sleeping in my bed tonight.
“My place, huh? I really like the idea of my place. How about five o’clock?” Anderson asked.
“I’ll be there, but I might want dessert before dinner. You being dessert.” I used my most sultry tone.
“Oh, I can definitely accommodate you.” He paused and then quickly added, “Make it thirty minutes, I can’t wait an hour.”
We both laughed. “I’ll pick up something we can reheat.”
Oscar was not happy I was leaving, but I opened a can of tuna and forked it into his bowl. As he nibbled at the tasty morsels, I would like to believe he was forgiving all of my shortcomings.
THIRTY MINUTES LATER, Anderson and I arrived at his house at the same time. Anderson pulled into his driveway and I parked behind him. Anderson's was one of the newer homes built in Petoskey. A two-story with a smaller, tidy front yard with small shrubs dividing his yard from the neighbor’s.
The air was a little chilly when we both got out of our cars. I grabbed my overnight and then the takeout bags filled with pasta, salad, and garlic bread.
Anderson walked over and slid an arm around my waist. “Hi. Welcome to my home.” He kissed my temple, my lips and then gave me a hug that stole my breath away.
Anderson took the bags from my hands and quickly kissed my lips again. “Come on, let’s go inside.” His voice was a deep, seductive rumble.
Once inside his house, he placed the bags on the nearest table, turned my hand over exposing my wrist and placed a strategic kiss at the base of my hand, followed by a nip of his teeth on each fingertip until all five were damp from his tongue. He kissed me again, this time lingering on my mouth. The kiss was deep and stirring and I felt a delicious warmth course through my body.
“I’m going to put the food in the refrigerator. I don’t think we will be getting to it anytime soon, do you?” he asked.
I shook my head and giggled. “No. Not anytime soon.”
Anderson put the takeout bag in the refrigerator and then brought his mouth down on mine. His hands caressed my face and he smoothed my hair back as he dropped a trail of kisses across my cheek to my ear.
“Come on.” Anderson took my hand and led me to the sofa. He pulled me onto his lap and then kissed me again, wrapping me in his embrace.
“You taste and smell so good.” I nuzzled his warm neck with my nose.
“This sofa isn’t big enough. I think we need to move to the bedroom.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “What do you think?”
I hopped up and offered my hand. “Show me the way.” He stood, picked me up in his arms, and hugged me close to his chest.
WE EXPLORED EACH OTHER’S bodies until the need between us grew to the point of no return. The first time we came together was fast and all-consuming, the second time was slow and tender.
Anderson traced his finger from my hand, up my arm, neck and ended at my chin. “I’m starving. Do you want to eat in bed or should we get up?” he asked lazily.
I stretched, raising my arms above my head. “I brought pasta with a red sauce so unless you want a big mess, we should get up.”
Anderson dressed me in one of his big comfy shirts that hung to my knees. We ate, talked, and laughed until we both became hungry for dessert. We raced to the bedroom, fell on the bed like two kids, and laughed until our sides hurt. To be thorough, we did a lot more exploring of each other’s bodies, just in case we missed something before.
“You should know, I’m falling hard for you.” Anderson kissed my chin.
“That’s good news. Because I’m falling hard for you too.” We lay entangled in the sheets with my head resting on Anderson’s chest.
No matter what the consequences, it was time to set Vega free.
Anderson’s steady heartbeat was comforting and lulled me to sleep.
Chapter Seven
I REALLY WANTED TO let Vega go, but I needed another day to think about the logistics of the whole thing. Should I drive him to his granddad’s cabin, drop him at the bus station, or leave him on the side of the road? There were endless options. “We’ll talk about it when I get home from work,” I told him. “But I think tomorrow will be your lucky day.”
“Really? Thank God.” He took a deep breath and let it out in a whoosh.
I was halfway up the stairs when he yelled, “Hey Marjorie!”
“Yes?” I yelled back.
“Could I have an apple pie tonight since it will be my last night here?”
I thought about it and couldn’t think of a reason to say no. “Sure. I’ll bring a fresh, warm pie home tonight. Do you want ice c
ream too?”
“Yes. Thank you, Marjorie. Even though you kept me locked up, you’re not such a bad person.”
“Geez. Thank you.” I wished I could have said the same for him.
I BROUGHT HOME TWO freshly baked apple pies already filled with Xanax. He could eat the second one in the morning because whatever I did with him, I wanted him sedated for it. I was getting good at figuring out the proper dosage for a single slice and a whole pie.
When Vega heard me on the steps he yelled, “Did you bring pie?”
“Yes, and a big bowl of vanilla ice cream.”
“I love the food you make me.” His eyes were slightly glazed and he smacked his lips.
It dawned on me, he might be addicted to Xanax. Yeah. It was definitely time to let him go. I fed him spoonfuls of ice cream in-between bites of pie. He was “oohing” and “aahing”. He ate half the pie and all of the ice cream.
“That was the best pie I’ve ever had.” He burped and then smiled. “Will you leave the rest of the pie so I can smell it all night?”
“Sure.” It was on a paper plate. I figured he couldn’t use anything from it to get loose.
Once he showed signs of drowsiness, I untied him, he performed his nightly routine, and then he obediently sat back down in the bathroom.
“I’m leaving now. See you in the morning.”
“Sweet dreams,” Vega murmured.
“Okay...” He wasn’t going to be quite as sweet when he wasn’t being fed Xanax on a daily basis.
I packed an overnight bag with appropriate clothes—black slacks and a cream-colored blouse for Eloise’s service in the morning. Anderson had to work so I would be going to the service by myself.
Anderson opened the door as I pulled into his driveway. I grabbed my bag and when I got to the door, I dropped it to the ground, jumped into his arms and kissed him silly.
“Now, that’s what I call a proper greeting.” He grinned.
“I missed you,” I admitted. I couldn’t believe a couple weeks ago I was keeping him at arm’s length. Now, I never wanted to be apart.
“I missed you, too. Maybe we should think about living together,” he suggested.
When I gaped at him, he hoisted the bag over his shoulder and ushered me into the house. “Live together? Isn’t that moving a little fast?” I had never lived with a man besides my dad.
Anderson took my face in his hands and looked me directly in the eyes. “Marjorie. I’ve had serious feelings for you for some time now. If you need more time, that’s fine, but I know what I want, and that’s you, for the rest of my life.”
A warmth I had never felt before spread from my toes all the way up to the top of my head—love, that’s what love felt like. “Do you love me?”
A grin spread across his handsome face. “Yes, Marjorie. I love you.”
I kissed every surface on his face before saying, “I love you, too.” Our relationship just hit warp speed.
Anderson took my hand and led me into the dining room. He had candles lit, a pretty tablecloth spread out, and a bottle of red wine open. “Wow. Everything is so pretty.”
“I made pork tenderloin, mashed potatoes, and gravy and buttermilk biscuits. I hope you’re hungry.”
I looked deep into Anderson’s eyes and saw our future and it looked perfect. “Yes. I’m famished.”
AFTER DINNER, WE SIPPED wine in front of the fireplace. Anderson rubbed the top of my hand with his thumb.
“When do I get to spend the night at your place? You’ve got more room to fool around in than my place does,” he teased.
“How about Friday night? You can stay the whole weekend.” Vega should be long gone by then.
“Perfect, we can barbecue ribs, drink martinis, and watch The X-Files reruns,” he said with a straight face.
“Did you know they are making new episodes of The X-Files?”
“No...Really? I was just kidding about the reruns, but I’d love to watch any new episodes.”
“Me, too.” We both laughed.
“Now that we have that settled, let’s get naked and mess around.” Anderson hopped up, gathered me in his arms, and carried me to the bedroom where we did just that—got naked and messed around all night.
THE NEXT MORNING, I ate a light breakfast and got dressed for Eloise’s service. Anderson had already left for the day.
Eloise’s two kids were sitting in the front row of the church. Several people were scattered around, but the church seemed empty and cold. The service only lasted thirty minutes, then it was announced that they had refreshments in the room next door. I didn’t want to make small talk, so I gave my condolences and left.
Time to pay the piper, or in other words, let Vega lose.
OSCAR PEEKED HIS HEAD around the sofa when I walked into the house and didn’t come when I called him. Something was up—I was pretty sure it wasn’t anything good.
“Aren’t you a pretty one?” Vance, Vega’s much larger twin brother, dressed in jeans and a wife beater T-shirt with muscles coming out of his eyeballs, stood in the doorway to the kitchen. He had a fork and was eating apple pie directly from the pie plate.
Skittles, Skittles, Skittles. I was in big trouble.
“Cat got your tongue?” He took another large bite of the pie and laughed.
“What are you doing in my house?” My teeth wanted to chatter, but I firmed up my jaw. He was much scarier than Vega.
He sneered. “I’m looking for Vega. We were supposed to meet at our grandad’s cabin, but he hasn’t been there for days and his truck is still there. It’s only a ten-minute walk straight through the orchard. As kids, we used to sneak over here and steal apples. He left a clear footpath to your back door. So...where the hell is he?”
“He’s in the basement.” Vega had to have heard heavy footsteps from his brother. Why wasn’t he screaming for help? Fear was bubbling up from my stomach and I was about to throw up. Oh man, I was going to go to jail. Or worse, Vega would beat the crap out of me, and then Vance would rape me.
“Why is he down there? Are you screwing my brother?” He looked me up and down. “You’re not bad looking. Come over here. Vega won’t mind sharing.”
My hand automatically slid into the tote, hanging over my shoulder, in search of the stun gun. When I had a firm grip on it I said, “That’s where I keep the beer.” I didn’t answer the rest of his questions.
“I could make you...” He reached out and stroked my cheek and then took another bite and chewed with his mouth open.
I jumped away from him as bile rose up and I had to quickly swallow to keep it down. I noticed his speech seemed to be slower, but my heart was beating so fast and loud in my chest that I couldn’t be sure. “How much pie have you eaten?”
“What does it matter? Were you saving it for Vega?” He was definitely swaying a little.
“No. You can have as much as you want. Please keep eating.”
He slammed the pie plate on the hall table. “Go get Vega! We have plans to make.”
“Why don’t you get him and another six-pack of beer while I make lunch?” Please go downstairs. I could lock the door and wait for him to fall asleep. What then?
“What are you going to make? I’ve been living off of fast food for days. Lunch sounds...” He slumped against the wall. “Hey, what was in that pie? I’m starting to feel like crap...”
“Just high-quality ingredients.” That’s exactly what I told Vega. I felt like giggling at the absurdity of the situation. I pointed to the door leading to the basement. “He’s down there.”
“Fine....” He pushed away from the wall, walked unsteadily toward the door, he turned the handle, opened it and looked down the stairs. “Vega. Get your ass up here now!”
Vega didn’t reply and there was no way he couldn’t have heard Vance. Weird. He should be awake by now. “You’ll need to go down there.”
Before I could react, Vance took one step, missed the next one entirely, fell forward and then tumbled down the
stairs, before landing heavily at the bottom with a bone-chilling crack that echoed throughout the house.
Not even a martini infusion could have prepared me for that.
I rushed down the stairs and checked for a pulse—nothing. His blank eyes stared up at me from the basement floor. Once I took a closer look at the odd angle of his neck, CPR would not bring Vance back.
Shit, shit, shit. Skittles were not going to cut it.
Why wasn’t Vega screaming bloody murder by now?
I found out soon enough.
Vega’s whole face was buried deep in the apple pie. I ran over, pulled his head up by his hair and checked his pulse—he was dead too. Did he try and eat it or did he just fall asleep and fall over, with his face ending up in the pie?
What a way to go—death by really good apple pie.
I must have sat on the floor for over an hour in shock. I had never seen a dead body up close before. Now, I had seen three in one day. I didn’t have a lot of options. If I called the police, I would go to jail. Vega and Vance were not nice people—one beat his wife and the other was a rapist. Well hell! I just needed to suck it up and dispose of their bodies—nobody would miss them.
I had managed to get Vega into the basement when he was alive, they should be easier to handle dead. First, I needed to wrap them up. Plastic would be preferable, but I wasn’t going to run out and buy yards of heavy duty plastic. People would talk. I ran upstairs and grabbed a couple cotton sheets and lots more duct tape. Rolling them up like burritos in the sheets was exhausting, especially Vance.
There was a cellar door opening in the corner of the basement that led straight up to the backyard—the steps were steep but sturdy. If I could get them up the steps, I would use the bucket on the backhoe to move them far away from the house, dig a big hole, and bury them. The backhoe, apple orchard, and house were a package deal. The backhoe was coming in handy right about now.
