The Body in the Boat

by Ami Diane

  “I saw a photo taken right after your arrival in Keystone and read your profile.”

  Lilly snorted. “I’d forgotten about that.”

  “He was your husband, right?” Ella asked.

  Lilly’s hair fell across her face as she nodded slowly, her eyes glistening.

  Events had transpired, Ella thought, one of two ways. Either Lilly killed husband number one to be with Stanley or husband number two killed David—probably out of jealousy or rage. She had a fifty-fifty shot of guessing it right.

  “Did Stan kill David?”

  Lilly’s head drooped, and she nodded again. Ella turned her head aside and pumped her fist then felt guilty and focused on the defeated woman in front of her.

  “Why didn’t you tell someone?” Wink asked.

  Based on the fuzzy puzzle pieces of history she was putting together, Ella knew Chapman hadn’t flashed into town yet, but surely there had been another sheriff back then.

  “If I so much as thought it, Stan would’ve killed me. You don’t know what he was like.” Her voice turned dark and bitter, and her hand brushed her face like fending off invisible punches.

  “He beat you?” Ella said softly.

  She blinked at Ella, eyes void of emotion. “In every way possible.”

  A shiver traveled up Ella’s spine as much from the cold as the confession. Stan had killed David, and in turn, Lilly had killed Stan. But why now? Why after all this time? Had the affair with Dot been the last straw?

  Another blast peppered the door. The wood splintered, and the door burst in, rocking on old hinges.

  Ella spun around, crouching behind the planter. Across the room, Wink and Flo ducked behind another.

  Lilly jumped to her feet as Dot stalked forward, gun raised. “Nowhere to hide.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Lilly asked.

  Keeping low, Ella crawled around the wooden box to stay out of Dot’s field of vision. Her palms pressed into dirt and dried-up cannabis as she crept along until she was positioned behind the mad woman.

  “Because I loved him, and you killed him. And because you robbed me of my ticket outta here.”

  Ella glanced back at Wink and Flo, mouthing, Ticket out of here?

  Both sets of shoulders shrugged in response.

  Shouts in the distance drew Dot’s attention. She tipped her head, turning her ear towards the door. A horse whinnied, and Ella let out a silent breath. The cavalry had arrived—quite literally. She owed Jonas a beer or a new can of tobacco or whatever.

  “Time’s up,” Dot said. Her finger flirted with the trigger pull.

  Ella’s breath hitched in her chest. Chapman wasn’t going to arrive in time. Three feet off to her right lay a shovel. Her fingers curled around the handle, and she leaped from her cover, swinging as hard as she could. She brought her hips around just as she did when she played softball in high school years back. Rolling her wrists and pivoting her foot in a way that’d make any coach proud.

  Dot saw the swing a mile away. She jumped out of range, the tip of the shovel-turned-bat narrowly missing her perfect little nose.

  Ella stumbled on her feet, her momentum throwing her off balance as Dot brought the double-barreled muzzle around on Ella.

  Thunder erupted behind Ella, and a blue wave flew past Dot and struck the wall. It was as if a bomb exploded the plywood and insulation. When the dust cleared, a hole the size of Texas appeared, laying the garage bare for all the world to see.

  “Oops,” Flo said. “May have turned it up a bit too high.”

  “Give me that.” Wink ripped the Ghost Blaster III from Flo at the same time Dot let out a mangled cry of rage.

  Before she could unleash her shotgun, Wink fired and hit Dot full force with the supposedly non-lethal weapon. The woman flew threw the air like a rag doll and slammed into the wall with a splat. A small whimper escaped her open mouth before she slid into a crumpled position.

  There was a clatter as the shotgun hit the ground, and Dot blinked several times. Slowly, she grappled for the gun.

  “I got it.” Ella strode forward.

  Instead of kicking the gun aside, she thought it was the perfect opportunity to try out the pile driver wrestling move she’d been dying to attempt.

  She started to lift the woman upside down. Light as she was, Ella still couldn’t deadlift one hundred twenty pounds. She ended up pulling the woman’s feet up until she was in a handstand.

  “That’s pretty close, actually,” Ella muttered, satisfied with her attempt.

  “What on earth are you doing?” Wink cried. “Forget her. Help us.” Both she and Flo crouched beside a prone Lilly.

  Ella dropped Dot who landed in a heap. As she hustled over to the corner, she kicked the shotgun across the room.

  Lilly slumped against the wall, grabbing her shoulder. Crimson bloomed across her white, button-down dress. Ella tore off her jacket, wadded it up, and pressed it against the wound.

  The sound of voices outside reached a crescendo, and Will hollered her name.

  “In here! Hurry!” she shouted. Lilly’s eyelids fluttered. “Stay with us. You’re going to be okay.” She bit her lip and exchanged a concerned glance with Wink. The woman was a murderer, but she’d also not tried to kill any of them tonight.

  Sheriff Chapman jumped through the doorway first, gun drawn. Will flew inside a second later.

  “I told you to stay out there,” Chapman barked at him. He took in the scene in one sweep. Immediately, he holstered his revolver and sent Will to get Pauline.

  Will hesitated.

  “Ella will be fine,” Chapman said. “I’ll keep her safe. Now go.”

  “We’ll be fine, too, Will,” Flo called at his retreating back. “Thanks for the concern.”

  Chapman glanced at the shotgun, then he inspected both Dot and Lilly.

  “You okay?” he asked Ella, Flo, and Wink. He scowled when he eyed Ella’s bloody arm.

  “My back’s a bit sore,” Flo complained. “And I think my bunion’s acting up.”

  Both Wink and Ella glared at her.

  As the adrenaline dissipated in Ella’s body, she became acutely aware of the throbbing in her arm. But she knew it was nothing compared to what Lilly was experiencing. She drifted in and out of consciousness, hanging on, but only just.

  “Someone want to tell me what happened?” Chapman growled. “And why the hell is part of the wall gone?”

  Ella, Flo, and Wink took turns narrating what had transpired as Chapman secured Dot in antique manacles. The story meandered a bit and was embellished in parts, largely Flo’s involvement in the takedown. Ella noticed that during their discourse the ghost blaster mysteriously disappeared from sight.

  At some point, Will arrived with Pauline in his pickup, and a 1950s ambulance followed a few minutes after that. The emergency vehicle came as a bit of a surprise to Ella since she was unaware Keystone had an ambulance.

  They loaded Mrs. Tanner onto a stretcher, and a shackled, semi-conscious Dot rode up front with someone Ella vaguely recognized from the diner. Huffing, Pauline squeezed into the back, fished out a stethoscope from one of her many pockets, and bent over Lilly as the ambulance tore out of the yard.

  The wheels spun in the snow, and for a brief moment, Ella feared it was stuck. Then the volunteer got the vehicle under control and crept forward at a more appropriate speed.

  “You three, with me.” Chapman jabbed a thumb at Ella, Wink, and Flo.

  Ella eyed his appaloosa rooting through the snow, probably in search of food. Despite her thawing relationship with Chapman, the thought of sharing a ride on the horse didn’t appeal to her, especially since her backside still smarted from her ride with Six.

  “You planning on us walking?” Flo asked. “I don’t think we could all fit. Well, I might, but Ella—”

  “She’s half your size,” Wink cut in.

  Chapman held up a hand for silence. “Will, mind giving us a ride?”

  “Duh, Flo,” Ella said. “Of
course, we’re not all riding on the horse. Don’t be ridiculous.” She turned to Chapman with a sudden thought. “Hey, does he have a name?”

  “Horse.”

  “Yeah, does your horse have a name?”

  “It’s Horse.”

  Ella blinked at him. “How very… original.”

  He opened the door to Will’s pickup, and Ella climbed in. There was a full minute of arguing about who got to ride in the cab before Chapman ordered both Wink and Flo into the bed while Will rode Horse.

  “You’re going to make two old ladies ride back there?” Flo said.

  “If those two old ladies are you two, then yes. It’s the only way I won’t shoot ya.”

  After much grumbling, they climbed into the bed.

  Once Chapman had climbed in behind the steering wheel, Ella said, “Hey, are there any speed bumps we can go over?”

  At some point during the short ride, Ella nodded off. The warm car, the scent of lingering sandalwood, and the feeling of security lulled her into a deep peace.

  Ella woke up in her bed the next day with no recollection of how she’d gotten there. Sunlight poured through her windows, revealing a bright, late morning.

  She sat up, wincing, and the memories of the previous night flooded back. Lifting the sleeve of her pajama shirt, she eyed the bandage wrapped around her arm.

  She vaguely remembered Pauline digging buckshot out before patching her up. Ella felt the dressing overkill, but the doc had wanted to take precaution to prevent infection.

  After splashing her face with cold water, Ella descended the stairs. The smell of bacon and fresh coffee lured her like a siren to a sailor. Laughter floated down the hallway. When she opened the kitchen door, she found it full of people. Rose, Jimmy, Flo, Wink, and Will sat around the table.

  “Well, good morning, dear,” Rose said. “I was just about to clean off the table. I can heat up some of this stuff in the oven if you like.”

  Ella shook her head, folding a slice of thick bacon into her mouth. “Lukewarm’s good enough.”

  After grabbing the biggest mug she could find, she emptied the percolator of coffee and sat at the table.

  The room quieted, and all eyes turned to her. “What?”

  “What do you mean ‘what?’” Flo said in a mock tone that was supposed to be Ella, although she felt it far too high. “Everybody’s here because they’re worried about you. Me? I’m here for the food. And frankly, I’m beginning to regret it.” She made a face at the scrambled eggs on her fork then jerked her head in Will’s direction. “This one slept in one of the empty rooms upstairs.”

  Will didn’t look up from his hash browns as he pushed them around his plate. His ears turned pink.

  “I’m fine,” Ella said. “We should be far more worried about Lilly or the hole in her garage or Flo’s branching out to making exotic weapons.” She fixed Will with a pointed expression, while simultaneously reminding herself to search the inn top to bottom for G.I. Jane’s arsenal.

  “How are you feeling, by the way?” Will’s eyes flitted to the bandage on her arm.

  “Sore, but happy to be alive.”

  “Dot and Lilly are fortunate to be alive,” Rose said.

  Jimmy stirred his coffee and let out a harumph. “Good riddance, I say.”

  “How injured were they?” Will asked.

  Ella doused her strong brew with more cream. “Dot has a nasty concussion, which is helping her disposition, as you can imagine. I heard her threaten Pauline with a tongue suppressor. Anyone hear an update on Lilly?”

  “She lost a lot of blood,” Wink said, “but she made it out of surgery alright.”

  Ella digested the news as she bit into a homemade blueberry muffin. Enough people had died already. But the woman had murdered her estranged husband, and since Keystone didn’t have a prison, her punishment would most likely involve getting stranded in a random time and location. She had no love for the woman, but she did hope it wasn’t in whatever frigid arctic they seemed to be inhabiting at the moment.

  The breakfast conversation was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Chester. He popped out of Wink’s purse and leaped onto the table, wearing a marching band outfit. With twitching whiskers, he crept over to a plate of pancakes and sniffed.

  “Wink!” Rose shrieked. “What have I told you about bringing that varmint into the kitchen?”

  “Don’t? He’s not hurting anything, though. He’s just a bit peckish.” Wink reached into her pocket and pulled out handful of nuts and dried fruit.

  “Get that thing out of here before he messes on the table.”

  “He doesn’t mess,” Wink said, jutting her chin out. “He’s litter trained.”

  Flo’s empty fork hovered over her plate. She stabbed it through the air, pointing it at Chester. “What do you suppose a squirrel omelette tastes like?”

  “A bit greasy, I’d think,” Jimmy replied without missing a beat.”

  “Besides,” Will added, “it’s bad for your cholesterol.”

  Flo slumped back. “Too bad.”

  Wink leveled a glare around the table and scooped Chester into her arms. Her mouth opened with what Ella was sure to be a good rant when the back door opened, bringing with it a burst of cold air.

  Sheriff Chapman stooped as he stepped inside and shut the door.

  “Morning, folks.” He slipped his derby hat off and massaged it in his hands. “How’re you feeling, Ella?”

  “For goodness sakes,” Flo said. “You’d think she was the one who had surgery and got shot.”

  “I did get shot. Well, barely. But it counts. And I’d like to remind you that I almost died at least twice thanks to you and that stupid ghost blaster.”

  “Pardon?” Chapman drawled.

  Ella stirred her coffee so hard it sloshed over the sides. “I’m fine, by the way. Thank you for asking.”

  Rose poured a cup Chapman and set it on the table. After thanking her, he dragged a bar stool over from the island. “Just finished questioning both women. I’d like to hear your side again, ladies, if you don’t mind. Lot of loose ends I’m unsure about.” He locked eyes with Ella. “When you’re finished eating, maybe we can go into the other room?”

  Ella nodded, but Flo answered for all three of them. “Why? I’ll tell ya all about it right now.”

  Jimmy and Will groaned, and Ella got the impression they’d already heard the story multiple times.

  “Let Ella tell it,” Wink said. “She got there before us, knew about Lilly’s first husband, and such. She should be the one to start.”

  Flo slumped in her seat and mumbled, “Whatever.”

  The sheriff frowned at both older women. “I reckon we can chat now if it’s alright with Miss Barton.”

  All eyes turned expectantly to Ella for the second time that morning. A bite of bacon stuck in her throat. It was probably better they were all there, anyway. Then she wouldn’t have to repeat her story for a third, forth, or fifth time.

  Ella gulped her coffee, the hot liquid burning her throat, as she dislodged the bacon. With a deep breath, she launched into a recount of events over the past couple of days, starting with going to Dot’s cabin with Jesse and ending with her attempt to hit the crazed woman over the head with a shovel in the grow house.

  When she mentioned the shootout at Dot’s cabin and riding up there with Six, she was careful to avoid looking over at Will. A muscle in the sheriff’s jaw twitched, but he didn’t interrupt.

  When she got to the part about finding David Fisher’s name in the records book and seeing the picture of him and that she’d deciphered that he was the skeleton at the bottom of the lake, she remembered she’d left the binder with the Keystone Corner clippings in Lilly’s yard.

  Ella jumped from the table, but Chapman pulled her down, telling her he would retrieve the binder later. After taking another swill from her mug, to stall as much as to quench her thirst, she explained how Lilly had confessed to killing Stan.

  Ella leaned
back against the chair and swallowed. Her mouth was dry, but she felt a weight lifted from her chest, despite leaving out the more colorful bits and glossing over Flo’s experimental weapons.

  The kitchen fell quiet, filled only by the sound of Chester’s chewing.

  “You said you already talked to Lilly, right?” Ella asked Chapman. “Did she confess?”

  Chapman ran a large hand over a whisker covered face. “Yeah, she did.”

  “Did she say why she did it? That’s the part I’m still fuzzy on. I’m assuming the affair set her off.”

  Chapman nodded. “Apparently, Stanley had been in love with her for years. When they arrived in Keystone, Stan took advantage of the lack of law enforcement at the time and killed David. Story as old as time. Jealous lovers.” He shook his head.

  Will steepled his fingers together, speaking for the first time in a while. “What I want to know is, how did she do it? How did she kill Stan?”

  CHAPTER 31

  SQUINTING, Chapman studied all of their faces as if trying to decide if he should divulge that information.

  “She used Will’s scuba equipment, didn’t she?” Ella asked.

  The sheriff’s eyed her as he slowly nodded.

  Flo grunted. “Lucky guess.”

  “Not a guess.” Ella preened as if they should all be impressed that she knew.

  When no one batted so much as an eye, she said, “Tough crowd,” and turned to Will. “Remember? When you went on your first dive, right before we found Stanley, the mask was too tight and still wet despite being stored in that boathouse of horrors?”

  The confusion in the inventor’s expression cleared.

  “Miss Barton’s right.” Chapman tugged at his handlebar mustache. His eyes sagged as if he hadn’t slept in days, and Ella wondered if the town wasn’t pulling him apart at the seams a little bit.

  Dragging his hand over the bags under his eyes, he informed them of the broad strokes of what Lilly had said during her interrogation. Her official married name was Lilly Fisher. When both she, David, and Stanley had arrived into town, she was happily married to David but hid a terrible secret from him that ate at her.