Home Again: Starting Over

by Becki Willis

  “I dare,” Lisa informed her boss coldly, “because I quit. More accurately, you are about to quit.” She reached behind her back and pulled a gun from her waistband. She pointed the barrel straight at Myrna’s chest. Her voice was cold. “Breathing, that is.”

  The boom of the gun exploded in their ears, echoing within the tight walls of the hothouse. Myrna shrieked as she fell to the ground. Madison was relieved to hear the string of obscenities and rage that flowed from the fallen woman’s mouth. At least the shot was not fatal.

  “Shut up or I’ll do it again,” Lisa threatened.

  Myrna’s shrieks dwindled down to a pathetic gruel, punctuated by an occasional whimper.

  The other three moved together to form a united front. Madison remained front and center. She crossed her arms over her chest and tried to look tougher than she felt. Genny huddled close at her side, pretending to cower as she kept one arm tucked behind her friend. Madison suspected she had her phone in her hidden hand, but she did not dare turn to look.

  “You were explaining about the insurance fraud?” Madison asked coolly.

  “There was no insurance fraud, you fool. It was flat out money, plain and simple.”

  Some of Madison’s bravado mingled with her confusion and stalled. It was her grandmother who demanded, “Then what about Tiny and his brother? How did they work into this?”

  “My uncles? They did anything I told them to do.”

  “Tiny is your uncle?”

  “On my mother’s side. I know, no resemblance. Thank God.” She rolled her eyes for emphasis.

  “So how did it work?” Madison asked. “If not for insurance purposes, why did you need them to tamper with the results?”

  “Again, money.” She said the word louder, as if volume alone would make her meaning clearer.

  Granny Bert propped her hands onto her hips. “You’re going to have to be more precise than that, girlie. There were several fires, every one of them different. So what was your angle?”

  Lisa eyed the old woman, her eyes glittering. “I like you,” she said. “You have gumption. Not that it’s going to do you any good in the end, but you have gumption.”

  With a slightly bored expression, Lisa went on to explain. “Of course they were all different. I had to be creative, else someone might notice the similarities and investigate.”

  “Obviously someone did,” Madison pointed out. “Gloria Jeffers.”

  “Yes, well, we’ll get around to her in a minute. I was having a conversation with your grandmother. Try not to interrupt again.”

  She flounced her stringy hair toward the older woman. “As I was saying, I had to be creative. That’s where my uncles came in. A little loose wire here, and oops! A restaurant almost burns down. Another one there, and a poor overpriced motor home just goes up in smoke. Poof! You really have to appreciate the power of electricity.”

  “This woman is a nut,” Genny muttered under her breath.

  “Watch it, blondie!” Lisa snapped, swinging her attention to Genesis. “You’re supposed to be dead, anyway. You and your princess friend.”

  Her attention riveted back to Granny Bert. “Barry isn’t always the brightest of businessmen. He doesn’t always see things as clearly as he should. He’s made a few bad business decisions through the years. As his wife—and the one who will be inheriting most of his money when he has an unfortunate heart attack—it was my responsibility to set those bad decisions right. He had no business loaning that kind of money for a motor home.”

  “Just between us, how much did Ray Sams pay for that baby?” Granny Bert wanted to know.

  “Granny!”

  “What?” she asked innocently. “He did it to one-up me. I just want to know how much it set him back.”

  “He got his money back, just like the bank did,” Lisa said. “And at a far faster rate than we would have if he had paid it out, one long year after another. That fool husband of mine financed him for fifteen years!”

  “Hmm. Maybe I should have done business with him,” Granny Bert murmured.

  “Back up a minute,” Genny said in her hoarse voice. “How did you profit from the restaurant fire?”

  “Well, until you came to town, it was the biggest and best restaurant in town. Unfortunately, the Montelongos owned it free and clear. With no mortgage to hold over their head, we had no leverage.” She cocked her head and smiled sweetly. “Now we do.”

  “What about my friends the Shanks?” Granny Bert asked. “Granted, William is no longer my friend, that sorry no-good-for-nothing weasel. But Wanda is one of my nearest and dearest. What did you gain from their fire?”

  “That sorry no-good, as you so aptly call him, had fallen behind on payments to the bank. The house itself wasn’t worth repossessing. But a nice, fat insurance pay-off would get their payments up to date. Uncle Slim made sure the insurance claim was settled to our satisfaction, even if your friends got short changed.”

  “Jerry Don Peavey?” Madison asked, her voice almost weary. Listening to the extent of the woman’s greed and evil spirit was mentally and emotionally draining.

  “Again, behind on payments because my foolish husband loaned him too much money. I did him a favor, really. We got his payments down to a much more manageable price range and he found he could make do with a barn half the size of his old one.” She beamed proudly, as if she truly had done a good deed.

  “Carson Elliot?” Genny rasped. Her throat was getting worse from so much talking.

  “Ah, yes, what a charming and delightful man! But he was building on prime property. The bank could make so much more money, selling that particular lot as commercial property. His house simply had to go.”

  “The same thing happened to Newly McArdle,” Granny Bert noted.

  “If you mean that dirty little mechanic with grease under his fingernails, then, yes. I much prefer doing business with one of the handsome Montgomery men.” She slid a sly look at Genny. “I’m sure you agree, don’t you, kitten?”

  Understanding the reference to her pajamas, Genny answered, “Purr-fectly.”

  When the effort caused her to cough, Genny curled her body inward with exaggeration, taking the opportunity to glance at her phone. She scrolled to Cutter’s number and hit speaker. She ignored the possibility that she may have selected the number directly above his, Cuts of Prime, a meat market over in Riverton. The important thing was that was no matter which number she dialed, the person on the other end could hear, and Lisa would never be the wiser.

  “So, what?” Madison asked, trying to redirect Lisa’s attention from her friend. “You just set fire to all of these places?”

  “Basically, yes.”

  “How did you know what to do? Setting the fires, I mean.”

  “I’ve always been fascinated with fire. On the one hand, it can mean the difference between life and death. Freezing to death, that is. And on the other, it can mean sheer and total destruction.” She let her eyes trail over the arch of the building and down the curved sides. “And, again, death.”

  In that instant, Madison knew what Lisa planned to do. She planned to lock them in and set the greenhouse on fire.

  Determined to stall, Madison kept talking. Help would be here soon, she had to believe that.

  “I wouldn’t know the first thing about setting fires. Not without getting caught.” She hoped her voice sounded a bit awed by Lisa’s prowess.

  Flattery was always helpful in situations like this. Like a true maniac, Lisa glowed with what she considered a compliment. “It’s amazing what you can learn on the internet,” she confided. She smiled broadly. “It walked me through the process, step by step.”

  “What about the latest fire, the one at Bob Peterson’s?”

  Her smile was cunning. “No, the latest fire was at Gloria Jeffers’. But since you asked so politely and did not interrupt this time, then, yes, I also had a hand in the Peterson fire. I already have a buyer for the property,” she added, as if that explained everyt
hing.

  “Which brings us back to Gloria.”

  “Ah, yes, Gloria. Sweet, gullible, mystery-loving Gloria.”

  She came forward, waving her gun in the air as if it were a wand. She glanced to the back of the room to where Myrna moaned with renewed vigor. “Keep it down back there, boss lady. I hate interruptions. I’ll get to you soon enough.”

  Myrna quieted and Lisa continued. “Gloria imagined herself some sort of amateur detective. I found her folder at the law office by accident, filled with half the fires I had instigated.”

  “Half?”

  Lisa smirked at Genny’s question. “Oh, honey, you two don’t know as much as you think you do. Of course there were others. Your little boyfriend is lucky I’ve never shown off my full potential as a fire artiste.” She twirled her hand with dramatic flair, immolating a flame.

  “How did Gloria figure it out?” Madison asked.

  “She was cursed with a suspicious mind. She noticed that in each of the cases handled by the law firm, the bank was the mortgage holder. When insurance was involved, the money had to travel through the bank before it reached the client. Of course, she had the specifics all wrong. She thought it was Barry behind the fires. She even came to me to warn me of my husband’s mean and vicious streak.”

  “Why didn’t she go on to the authorities?”

  “I begged her to wait. I needed time to protect myself and provide for my dear, sweet stepdaughter.” With huge, sad-looking eyes, the crazed woman managed to look both vulnerable and sincere. “We would discuss my dire situation over tea. I made a special blend, just for my friend. And when she became irregular, I had a special formula for that, too.” She flashed a smile that was pure evil. “After a particularly nasty bout of constipation, she was desperate for relief. She was more than happy to triple the special formula I concocted for her.”

  “With friends like you, who needs enemies,” Madison grumbled beneath her breath.

  “Watch it, your highness.”

  The highness reference reminded Madison of Barry. He often called her that in mocking terms. “So what about Barry?”

  “What about him?”

  “I think you mentioned an upcoming heart attack?”

  “Yes. Poor thing has been having trouble with his blood pressure lately. He’s become highly agitated.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  “It can’t be good on his heart,” Lisa predicted. She glanced at an imaginary watch. “I would say in about… oh, a day or two at most, his old ticker will just give out. I’ll be distraught, of course. I’ll play the grieving widow, right up until the part where I cash in all the insurance policies and empty out the checking accounts. I’ll offer to sell my part of the bank to his sisters and I’ll leave town. Too many sad memories here, you know.”

  “I thought you were divorcing him.”

  “Didn’t you hear?” Lisa looked appropriately wide-eyed. “I had a change of heart. My lawyer thinks we took his advice and went to marriage counseling. Even though he lost the divorce fee, he offered to help update our wills. Wasn’t that generous of him?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  Lisa rambled on, haplessly waving her dangerous would-be wand through the air. “We were most concerned about poor little Miley. Shawn helped with the precise wording, making certain I retained custody of her, should something unthinkable happen to Barry. I explained that the child’s birth mother was a drug addict and not to be trusted with all of Miley’s money. Between her trust fund and what she stands to inherit from her father, the brat is filthy rich. She needs someone steady to help manage her finances. Someone to look out for her best interests.”

  “I’m guessing someone like you?” Maddy asked, her tone as dry as her throat.

  “Of course.”

  “And Barry agreed?”

  “According to his signature, he did.”

  “Forged, I’m sure.”

  “They’ll have to prove it first. After eight years of marriage, I have it down to the dotted ‘i.’”

  No one bothered pointing out that there were no ‘i’s in her husband’s name. Her demented brain could not be bothered with such minor details.

  “And I’m sure they’ll discover that it was Barry who instigated the fires, should anyone think to look,” Madison noted.

  “With you three out of the way, I doubt anyone will bother looking. But yes, if they do, all evidence will point to my dear, deceased husband. All the more reason for me to leave town. I won’t be able to live with the shame.”

  “So how do you plan to get rid of us?” Genny ventured to ask.

  “Why, by fire, of course. It’s a funny thing about these greenhouses. There are gasses inside that few people are aware of. And once a flame gets started, it’s hard to extinguish.”

  Granny Bert made an odd noise. Madison looked over her shoulder and saw that her grandmother was unusually pale.

  “Granny? Are you okay?” she asked in alarm.

  “Just a bit—a bit weak,” her grandmother said. Her voice came out faint as she staggered to one side.

  “Granny, what’s wrong?”

  “Does it really matter?” Lisa asked cold-heartedly. “Very soon, you’ll all be dead.”

  “You know how weak my heart is. Don’t—Don’t mind me. Save yourself,” Granny Bert insisted weakly, just before crashing into a shelf laden with pot plants.

  Her grandmother had gone to the doctor just last week. Madison knew she came back with a glowing report of just how strong and healthy her heart was. Madison recognized the coded message, even before the elderly woman started to ‘fall.’ In the process of going down, she gave the shelf a mighty shove, cramming it against the outer wall of the greenhouse. The heavy film bulged.

  “You imbecile!” Lisa shrieked. “What are you doing? You’ll rip the plastic and ruin the gas effect!”

  When Lisa would have rushed forward, Genny tripped her. The unsuspecting woman went down and landed hard upon her back. The gun skittered out of her grasp, sliding beneath the plants that littered the floor after Granny Bert’s exaggerated fall. Madison immediately pounced atop the younger woman and held her down. Genny added her weight to Lisa’s legs as Granny Bert came back up, clutching a handful of purplish-blue flowers in her gnarled fingers.

  There was a hard-fought struggle that involved flailing arms, elbows, and muttered curses, some of them Lisa’s. Amid it all, Granny Bert managed to stuff the crazy woman’s mouth with colorful blooms and forced her to swallow. Lisa sputtered and coughed, trying to spit the bitter plant from her mouth.

  “Won’t do any good, girl,” Granny Bert advised on winded breath. “That was wolfs bane.”

  “Wolfs bane?” she shrieked. “That will kill me!”

  “Only if we’re lucky.”

  Granny Bert struggled to stand. She hoisted her hands upon her hips and glared down at the neutralized menace. “Can you feel it?” she goaded. “The burning, tingling sensation in your mouth and face? Vomiting and diarrhea will set in soon. Your organs will fail after that.”

  “Serves you right,” Maddy added. “Gloria suffered a cruel, undignified death. So will you.”

  “You’re insane! You both are!” Lisa squealed. She turned wide, frightened eyes to Genny, who still sat on her legs. “Help me! They’ll kill me! Get this out of my mouth.”

  Genesis knew that neither Madison nor her grandmother would deliberately kill another soul, no matter how deserved that death might be. Their nonchalant attitude was a dead giveaway to their ruse, but Lisa was too frantic to notice. The woman was close to hysteria.

  With a casual shrug of her own, Genny raised her palms in a helpless gesture. “The damage has been done. Granny Bert says you’ll be dead in a few hours.”

  The power of suggestion was a dynamic thing. Within moments, Lisa began coughing. “I—I can feel it!” Her eyes grew frantic. “My mouth is going numb. My throat is closing up!” Tears streamed down her face. “H—Help me! I’m choking to death!”


  “What did you give Barry?”

  She wheezed out the answer.

  “Is there an antidote?” Unsympathetic to her gagging, Granny Bert pressed, “Might as well tell me. You won’t live to see the results.”

  It was not until Lisa managed to choke out a reply that her captives showed her mercy. By then, the wail of a siren rent the morning air, growing ever closer. Help was on its way.

  “Myrna was right. You are a slow learner,” Granny Bert chided. “That wasn’t wolfs bane, girl. Do you take me for a fool? Now stop your twitching and straighten up. Might as well settle down and get your arrest over with. There’s no way out for you, not with four witnesses.”

  Having all but forgotten the fourth witness, Madison glanced over her shoulder. “Myrna?” she called. “Are you still okay back there?”

  “Okay? Okay! No, I’m not okay, you imbecile! I’ve been shot!”

  Madison rolled her eyes, ignoring the rest of her rant. “Jeez, I’m sorry I asked.”

  Lisa bucked her legs in an attempt to throw Genny off. Genny responded with a raspy growl. “Lisa, my throat hurts. My body hurts. Stick your bony knee in my butt one more time, and I swear I’ll stuff that cactus over there down your throat. Then you’ll wish you had been poisoned.”

  The sirens came closer, drowning out even Myrna’s tirade. Brash all but ripped the door from its hinges. He barged down the aisle with his firearm drawn and reinforcements behind him. He looked dark and dangerous, and more handsome than Madison could ever remember seeing him.

  “Back here, Brash. We’ve got Lisa, but Myrna needs help. She’s been shot.”

  “You’re okay?”

  Granny Bert was the one to answer, her wrinkled face split with a lively grin. “It’s the three of us against one little pipsqueak. Of course we’re okay!”

  “I knew you’d come,” Maddy beamed. She and Genny still held Lisa to the ground, but she lifted her face to accept his quick kiss.

  “I swear, woman, you are going to be the death of me. We got a call from a butcher over in Riverton. Said he had a strange phone call from Genny’s number, something about an older woman, two younger ones, and a nutcase.” He shook his head wearily. “I knew it had to be you.”