Hazardous Duty

by Christy Barritt

  “Thanks for your help, Mr. O’Connor. I appreciate it.”

  I hurried to the van and started down the road. Now I had to prove Barbara O’Connor was guilty.

  I grabbed my cell phone from my purse. The battery was dead. I threw it in the seat. I needed to call Parker. After doing a quick mental calculation, I decided to go home instead of to the station. I could call Parker and let him take over from here. For once, I wouldn’t do anything stupid.

  It seemed like I caught every traffic light during the drive. I bounced in my seat, trying to dispense my penned up energy.

  At my apartment complex, I threw the van into park and rushed into the building. I fumbled with my keys, trying to find the one to Sierra’s apartment. Finally, the latch released and I rushed through the beads. I ran to the phone, thankful I knew Parker’s number by heart.

  I heard the door open as I dialed.

  “Sierra, I know who—” I turned around and dropped the phone. Barbara stood in the doorway, the gun in her hands pointed directly at my head.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Barbara’s eyes were wide and crazed. Her hair, once pulled into a ponytail, now framed her face like a lopsided mop. Sweat covered her brow.

  She closed the door and stepped closer. “At first, you were helping me make Cunningham look bad. Now that he’s dead, I have no need for you.”

  The phone lay at my feet. If only I could reach it, call for help. Barbara kicked it and the receiver slid across the wood floor. “Don’t even think about it.”

  The gun gleamed. I licked my lips and pictured Gloria Cunningham’s skull plastered into the wall.

  “Don’t do anything irrational.”

  She laughed and grabbed my arm, shoving me toward Sierra’s bedroom. “It’s a little too late for that. Come on.”

  “Where are we going?” I tried to keep my voice steady. My heart beat like a trotting horse, though.

  “Move,” Barbara demanded.

  “Can’t we talk about this?”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “Why’d you kill Gloria?”

  “Michael said he was going to leave her for me.”

  “But he didn’t, did he? It would have hurt his career too much.”

  Barbara scowled. “I knew I had to get her out of the picture.”

  “So you killed her, but made it look like her husband was guilty. You knew where he kept his gun. You knew how to make him look like the killer.”

  She snorted. “Then the police didn’t even find it.”

  “So you had to burn the house down, knowing the gun would be found.”

  “Only you were in the house. I thought you left with your assistant.”

  I glanced at the gun. “One thing I don’t understand—why kill Michael? Wasn’t he in on it with you?”

  She snorted again. “Not a chance. This was supposed to hurt his career. Then he’d have no reason not to be with me. But what happened instead? People began to feel sorry for him. His poll numbers actually went up.”

  “But your affair was over. Why would he be with you?”

  “He would have come back around. We had something special. We both knew it. I left my husband. It was his turn to leave Gloria, but he chickened out.”

  “You expected him to come back to you after you killed his wife?”

  “He didn’t know it was me. I wore a disguise. That was the beauty of it.”

  “How’d you get the gun back into his house?”

  She chuckled. “Easy. Michael passed out after I shot him. Not very heroic for a former college football star, huh? I slipped the gun back into the closet where I knew he kept it. Then I waited for the police to arrest Michael. Instead, they arrested that other guy.”

  “So, why try to kill me? Why send me a pipe bomb and lock me in a car trunk?”

  “To make it look like someone was trying to shut both of us up because we knew too much.”

  “You weren’t the one who put me in that car.”

  “No, a little blackmail will go a long way, though. That poor mechanic didn’t want his wife to find out he’d not only cheated on her, but got the other woman pregnant.” She smiled. “Amazing what you can overhear at the gym.”

  “Then you sent me the pictures, hoping I’d release them to the media and ruin his career, right?”

  She scowled. “Except instead, you tracked down the woman in the pictures and gave her the evidence.” Barbara raised the gun. “Now, enough talk. I have to figure out a way to get rid of you.”

  “The police know it’s you, you know.”

  Barbara shoved me, and I stumbled toward the back of the apartment. I kept talking, desperate. I could see my short, sad life flashing before me. Live. Get old. Die. That was the cycle. Survival of the fittest. Did it boil down to that? Or was it like Riley, Harold, and Lela said? Did I have a purpose on this earth? I had to keep talking. I wasn’t willing to die before I had answer to that question.

  “I found your hair in my apartment,” I said.

  “Shut up and move.”

  “Killing me won’t do you any good.”

  “Neither will keeping you alive.” She jabbed the gun into my side. “Now listen. I’m thinking electrocution—something that will seem like an accident. Or maybe even suicide. You do have a lot of pressure on you right now, with your assistant being in jail and Michael ending up dead in your apartment. Everyone will understand why suicide seemed like a good option for you.”

  “Anyone who knows me will be suspicious. I’ve been through a lot in my life already. This wouldn’t be enough to push me over the edge.”

  She nudged the gun toward me, her eyes hardening. “Start the bath water. And don’t make a sound or I’ll kill you now. Understand?”

  I nodded. Her eyes said it all. She was going to kill me if I didn’t stop her.

  “Say it,” Barbara hissed.

  “I understand.”

  “Good. Now move.”

  I walked toward the bathroom and opened the door, the barrel of the gun still pressed into me.

  Please Lord, help me. If You really are up there, like my friends say you are, I want to know You.

  The weapon jarred my ribs and I continued walking. Following her instructions, I turned the water on.

  “I need a radio. Where’s a radio?”

  “There’s one in Sierra’s room.”

  Barbara stepped into the hallway. I seized the opportunity and slammed the bathroom door. My fingers flew over the lock until it clicked in place.

  Barbara pounded on the wood. “Open this right this minute.

  I glanced around the bathroom, searching for something to give me a clue what to do next.

  “Unlock the door!” Rage singed her voice. I’d really made her mad now.

  I could wait her out. But what would happen when Sierra returned home? Would Barbara take out her anger on my friend?

  I shuddered.

  Suddenly, it quieted. What was Barbara doing? Waiting me out? Finding something to knock the door down with?

  I sat on the edge of the tub and tried to formulate a plan. My mind blanked. No windows offered an escape route. I had no choice but to sit here and wait for Barbara’s next move.

  Why was she being so quiet? I rose and looked through Sierra’s cabinets. Maybe if I found some hairspray I could blind Barbara. I saw a small city of cosmetics, but realized that Sierra didn’t use aerosol. It was bad for the environment, she’d said.

  I found a couple of razors. I could use them if I needed. A travel-sized bottle of cornstarch baby powder seemed another good option. I slipped them into my pockets.

  A shot fired. Wood splintered. I jerked back.

  Another shot cracked. Was Barbara trying to shoot me through the door? Would it work?

  I screamed at the top of my lungs, praying somebody—anybody—would hear me.

  The lock busted and the door flew open.

  “You didn’t think you’d win that easily, did you?” Ba
rbara aimed the gun at my forehead.

  Lord, please. If You’re real, help me. I’ll . . . I’ll check out church. I’ll give you a chance. Last minute bargaining. I’d vowed never to do it. Desperation did funny things to people, though.

  I reached for the baby powder. In one motion, I pulled it from my pocket and squeezed. White dust clouded the air.

  Instinctively, I kicked the gun. It blasted. I wasn’t sure if I’d been hit. I just knew I had to keep moving.

  Metal clanked on the tile by my feet. I grabbed at the weapon. My hands trembled as I aimed it at Barbara.

  Before I could make any threats, someone tackled Barbara. Riley. He pinned the woman to the ground. She thrashed beneath him, screaming threats and insults.

  Riley looked up, gasping for breath. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded and placed the gun in the sink, shaking so hard I was afraid I’d drop it.

  “Gabby?” a masculine voice called.

  Parker.

  “I’m in here.”

  “Let me go. They kidnapped me.” Barbara flailed on the floor, trying to escape Riley’s hold. “They’re trying to keep me here!”

  “Barbara O’Connor,” Parker said, pulling his handcuffs off the back of his belt. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Michael and Gloria Cunningham, for arson, and for the attempted murder of Gabby St. Claire.”

  Riley stepped back, and Parker knelt beside the woman.

  “I didn’t do it.” Barbara writhed on the floor, struggling against Parker’s restraining hands. “You’re out of your mind.”

  Parker snapped handcuffs on her. “No, we have evidence.” Parker looked at me. The concern in his eyes startled me. Maybe I’d imagined the accusation in his eyes earlier.

  Two police officers read Barbara her rights. Parker, Riley and I stared at each other.

  “How’d you know?” I asked both of them.

  “I heard everything through the vents,” Riley said. “I snuck into the apartment and waited for the right time to take her down.”

  I looked at Parker.

  “The hair you turned in is Barbara’s. We got a search warrant for her house and found evidence of the pipe bombs and arson.” Parker pulled me into a hug. I didn’t resist. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded, the reality of how close to death I’d been, hitting me. “Yeah, now I am.”

  “I need to take you to the station for some questions. You okay with that?” His smoldering eyes searched mine.

  I nodded and he began leading me away.

  “Excuse me one minute first.” I turned back to Riley. My heart did something funny as I looked as his familiar face. I would never forget him, or Veronica for that matter. “Thank you. Again. I’m sorry about all the mean things I said about you.”

  A strange emotion swirled in his eyes. “I’m sorry I let you down.”

  Veronica must be worried sick about him. I didn’t blame the woman for not wanting me around. I’d almost gotten him killed several times now. Still, my heart felt like it weighed a hundred pounds when I turned from Riley.

  Parker slipped an arm around my shoulder and led me into the flashing lights that filled the nighttime sky outside. It was over, I realized. It was finally over.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Parker grabbed my hand as he walked me up to my apartment. It had been one month since Barbara was arrested and Harold was officially cleared, and three weeks since Riley moved back to California.

  “I hate to cut this date short, Gabby.” Parker’s pager had gone off, and he had to rush to another case. I nodded. In the two weeks since we’d been dating, I was already getting used to it.

  Parker’s lips brushed mine in a brief goodnight kiss. Then he stuffed his hands in his pockets and sauntered down the stairs. I watched him and smiled. He’d been such a support to me since the case was behind us. A definite blessing. Especially now that Riley had moved.

  Every day I stared at Riley’s vacant apartment door and wondered who my new neighbor would be, wondered if I’d like them as much as I’d liked Riley. I wondered when Riley and Veronica would get married and if I’d be invited. I had no plans to attend, if I was.

  Parker turned and fanned his fingers in a wave before exiting the apartment building. After he disappeared outside, I stuck my key in the lock and turned.

  A familiar squawk froze me.

  I turned around. Riley stood in the doorway to his old apartment.

  “Riley?” I resisted the urge to throw my arms around him and tell him how much I missed his company. “What are you doing here? I thought you moved to California.”

  His sparkling eyes met mine. I’d missed those eyes.

  “Veronica and I called it quits. Neither of us were happy. I’m not ready to be in the limelight. I just wanted to get away from that scene.”

  I swallowed, regretting the joy I felt at his announcement. I was dating Parker. I shouldn’t feel this way toward Riley.

  “So, you’re here to stay?” I asked. It seemed a safe enough question.

  He smiled that same smile that always melted my heart. “Yeah, I am.”

  “Glad to have you back.”

  “Glad to be back.” He nodded toward the front door. “You and Parker together?”

  Why did I suddenly want to deny it? Parker and I were happy. The past couple of weeks had been really nice. “We’re giving it a shot.”

  His grin seemed to dim. Or was it wishful thinking on my part? He looked to the ground before meeting my gaze. “I just wanted to let you know I’m back. We’ll have to get coffee sometime and catch up.”

  “How about church instead?” I asked, remembering the promise I’d made in desperation. I wasn’t sure there was a God out there, but just in case there was, I decided I should keep my promises to Him. Besides, I wanted what Harold and Riley possessed. I wanted the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

  His eyes widened, and he grinned. “I’d like that.”

  I would like that too, I realized, slipping inside my apartment. I would too.

  Discussion Guide

  · How has Gabby’s upbringing shaped her life today?

  · Which of Gabby’s friends would you most like to have dinner with? Why? What qualities do you appreciate in your own friends and why?

  · Music has a huge impact on Gabby. Musicals have often been her escape, her way of holding on to the hope that there’s a happy ever after. How has music affected your life? If you had to pick a song to characterize your life so far, what would it be and why?

  · Do you think there’s a balance to be found between science and Christianity? Can they go hand in hand? How can you argue with someone who says that science and Christianity don’t agree?

  · How does Gabby change throughout the book? What events trigger that change?

  · One of the lessons that Gabby learns in the book is that “life isn’t God.” Have you ever had a time in life where your view of life has skewed your view of God? Is it hard for you to separate the two?

  If you enjoyed Hazardous Duty, look for these other books in the Squeaky Clean series:

  Suspicious Minds (Book 2)

  In this smart and suspenseful sequel to Hazardous Duty, crime-scene cleaner Gabby St. Claire finds herself stuck doing mold remediation to pay the bills. But her first day on the job, she uncovers a surprise in the crawlspace of a dilapidated home: Elvis, dead as a doornail and still wearing his blue suede shoes. How could she possibly keep her nose out of a case like this?

  Organized Grime (Book 3)

  Gabby St. Claire knows her best friend, Sierra, isn’t guilty of killing three people in what appears to be an eco-terrorist attack. But Sierra has disappeared, her only contact a frantic phone call to Gabby proclaiming that she’s being hunted. Gabby is determined to prove her friend is innocent and to keep her alive. While trying to track down the real perpetrator, Gabby notices a disturbing trend at the crime scenes she’s cleaning, one that ties random crimes together—and points
to Sierra has the guilty party. Just what has her friend gotten herself into?

  Other Books by Christy Barritt:

  Death of the Couch Potato’s Wife (Suburban Sleuth Mysteries #1)

  You haven’t seen desperate until you’ve met Laura Berry, a career-oriented city slicker turned suburbanite housewife. Well-trained in the big city commandment, “mind your own business,” Laura is persuaded by her spunky 70-year-old neighbor Babe to check on another neighbor who hasn’t been seen in days. She finds her neighbor, Candace Flynn, wife of the infamous “Couch King,” dead, and at last has a reason to get up in the morning in suburbia: murder. Someone’s determined to stop her from digging deeper into the death of her neighbor, but Laura is just as determined to figure out who’s behind the death-by-poisoned-pork-rinds.

  The Trouble with Perfect

  Since the death of her fiancé two years ago, novelist Morgan Blake’s life has been in a holding pattern. She has a major case of writer’s block, and a book signing in the small mountain town of Perfect sounds like just the solution to help her clear her head. Her trip takes a wrong turn when, on her way there, she’s involved in a hit and run—she’s hit a man, and he’s run from the scene. Before fleeing, he mouthed the word “help.” She plans to give him that help, but first she must find him. In Perfect, she finds a town that offers everything she’s ever wanted. But is something sinister going on behind the town’s cheery exterior? Was she invited as a guest of honor simply to do a book signing? Or was she lured to town for another purpose—a deadly purpose?