by Vicki Vass
“Mr. Kirby. He was very rich. He loved that boat. He wanted to take me for a ride and show it off.”
CC stretched her fingers as far as she could. She could feel the top of the glass jar. “He was an Olympic swimmer. He could have easily swum across the lake.”
“It’s hard to swim with lead weights tied round your ankles.”
CC took her index and middle fingers and desperately tried to twist the top of the jar open. “How did you know Tim Whitmore would drink the arsenic-laced tea leaves?”
“Who do you think sold him all the antique guns and uniforms?”
The lid wouldn’t open.
Mr. Ripley pulled a nine-millimeter gun out of his Armani suit. He pointed it at Anne. “And you, that brooch! That was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. And you buried it with that crazy old lady. If she would have given me the brooch in the first place, she’d still be alive.”
“How are you going to explain a bullet? Everyone else you killed, you made look like an accident or natural causes. I don’t think a nine-millimeter bullet is very natural, do you?” CC said. Anne sat in shock over the revelation about Sybil.
He laughed. “I like you. I’m going to kill you last.”
The lid popped off the jar. With a single motion, CC tossed the hot ghost pepper powder in Mr. Ripley’s face. He dropped the gun and needle and fell to the floor screaming. “It makes everything better,” CC said with a satisfied expression.
Detective Towers was one of the first officers on the scene. Anne and CC watched as they took Mr. Ripley away in handcuffs. He was saying something in Bulgarian as he walked past them. CC imagined it wasn’t very nice. Betsy Buttersworth came out and sat between Anne and CC on the front stairs. She put her arms around both of them. She looked at them both and then got up and went back in the house. A few minutes later, she came out with the original Phoenix glass vase. She handed it to Anne and then walked back in the house, closing and locking the door.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Sassy walked up and down the Chicago Tribune newspaper. The front page featured a picture of Anne and CC and a large headline that read, “Spoon Sisters Solve Murders For Sale.” Sassy did not see a picture of herself. “How could there be a story without the real heroine?” She was very upset. She pawed at the newspaper and turned her head and walked away. “Bad cat,” Anne said as she bent down and picked up the newspaper. She walked into the kitchen where CC was drinking her coffee and working on her blog, which now showed over 8,000 comments requesting help.
Anne flipped the paper around with a smile. “Front page, CC, front page!”
“I read the story online,” CC said. “Did you see what they’re calling us?”
“I think it’s neat.”
CC just laughed and went back to typing. “Dear Friends.” She stopped and sipped her coffee. She highlighted the header that read, “From the Estate” and clicked delete. She typed The Spoon Sisters, Antique Hunters.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
With a passion for shopping, Vicki Vass drew on her experiences as an antique hunter to tell the story of her real-life friends Anne and CC.
Vicki Vass has written more than 1,400 articles for The Chicago Tribune as well as Women’s World, The Daily Herald and Home & Away. Her science fiction novel, The Lexicon, was inspired by her journeys in the jungle of Sudan, Africa, while writing about the ongoing civil war for World Relief.
She lives outside Chicago, with her writer, musician, husband Brian, their 20-year old son Tony, kittens Pixel and Terra, Australian shepherd Bandit, seven koi and Gary the turtle.
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