by J. C. Eaton
“Tell him to get a move on,” Skylar yelled back. He walked to the kitchen and stood in the doorway.
I held the phone next to my ear and didn’t say anything. Finally I ended the call with two words—“I’ll try.”
“What was that all about?” Skylar asked.
“Stefan’s at the Yates County Public Safety Building. He’s been arrested for Devora’s murder and wants me to call Renee. He called here because they’d only allow him a local call.”
“Wow. It’s always the ones no one suspected. Stefan. Of all people. That’s terrible. I knew that woman was going to push him off the edge.” Then Skylar bolted to the living room and announced, “Stefan’s under arrest for murdering Devora.”
“Is that true?” Priscilla asked. She was now a few feet from me in the kitchen with Gavin, Gordon, and Mickey standing right behind her. Her back was toward the basement door and I noticed the eye-latch was undone.
As I moved toward her to refasten it, Gavin bumped her elbow. “Time to start packing, eh?”
I bent down to pull up one of my socks, and while still hunched over I said, “Wow. What a night.”
At that moment, the lights began to flicker and I heard someone ask, “Do you have any candles?” Before I could respond, everything went black.
Chapter 37
“So much for the damn screening,” Skylar announced when all of a sudden Priscilla let out a shriek followed by the sound of plates, tins, and God knows what crashing to the floor.
“The basement!” Mickey shouted. “She fell down the cellar stairs!”
“More like shoved, you stinking scoundrel! And I’m right here, so deal with it.”
The lights flickered for a split second before coming on. Priscilla leaned back on one of the pantry shelves for leverage and pushed herself up. Then she lunged for Mickey’s throat.
“You thought you could get me out of the way by forcing my car in a ditch, and when that didn’t work you tried to throw me down the stairs into Norrie’s basement. Well, the joke’s on you because I fell into the pantry door, not the basement. Norrie switched the sign.”
“It’s okay, Priscilla,” Gordon said. “He’s not going anywhere. You can back off.” He put his arm around her waist and moved her closer to him but not close enough apparently.
Priscilla broke free and was on top of Mickey like a wild woman. “What were you hoping for? That I’d break a leg? An arm? Because if you wanted to kill me, you would have done it the same way you did to Devora. What did I ever do to you anyway?”
Then, out of the blue, because things weren’t crazy enough, Glenda waved some sort of aromatic stick in the air as she muttered, “Cleansing negative energy. One with the universe.”
Zenora, who was a foot or two away from Mickey, Priscilla, and Gordon, held out her arms and stared straight ahead.
“Is she going into a trance or something?” Cammy asked. “I got in here as fast as I could from the living room.”
Zenora spun her head around and looked directly at me. “A murky brown aura is taking hold. I sense confusion and toxic thoughts.”
Gee, you think?
The door to the basement flung open but I seemed to be the only one who noticed. Everyone else appeared to be too busy grasping the scene in front of them. Priscilla hammered Mickey with fist punches and a wallop to his chin. Then, the pièce de résistance—she grabbed his shirt by the collar, causing it to rip. And when it did, I gasped. There, resting on Mickey’s bare skin, was a double-looped chain that resembled the kind found on motorcycle jacket sleeve epaulets. Like the one I’d seen in that Facebook photo Stephanie showed me. The exact kind of double-looped chain used to kill Devora.
It took me a minute, but it sank in. I was right all along. The real murder weapon used on Devora’s neck wasn’t Priscilla’s necklace. Behind me, from the basement doorway, I heard a familiar voice. Bradley Jamison stepped away from the threshold and said, “It’s over.” Then he gave me a quick hug and said, “Good thinking about having me in the basement to turn the breakers on and off. If this wasn’t an old house with the circuit board in the cellar, it wouldn’t have been as easy to pull off.”
“Yeah, and the open floor vents made it even better. I knew you’d hear me.”
“Forget the floor vents,” Gordon shouted. “Someone give me a hand with Priscilla.”
Godfrey rushed over and together, he and Gordon wrestled Priscilla away from Mickey, who held a hand over his chin and didn’t say a word. Meanwhile Cammy did her best to shoo Glenda and Zenora out of the kitchen. “Cleanse the air somewhere else,” she said.
“From across the living room I heard Rikesh shout, “Don’t let those two near this equipment. It’s really expensive.”
As Gordon and Godfrey eased Priscilla farther away from Mickey, Skylar took a step toward him and glared. “I don’t get any of this. I don’t get why you strangled Devora and I damn well don’t understand what Priscilla’s got to do with any of it. Were you in cahoots with Stefan and let him take the fall?”
Mickey pulled his collar up and swallowed. “Stefan had nothing to do with any of this.”
“What then? Did Devora’s husband offer to pay off your motorcycle in exchange for making her disappear permanently? Their impending divorce is tabloid news, for crying out loud.”
“Not Gerard Dobrowski,” I said. “It had nothing to do with him or his candy fortune.” Or the fact we’re now about to plant enough Concord grape root stock to get us into the next millennium.
The house had suddenly quieted down, making the wind outside sound even more forceful.
“What then?” Skylar asked. He crossed his arms and remained inches away from Mickey. “You might as well tell us the truth because you’re not going anywhere.”
Priscilla must have wielded one hell of a punch because the flesh on Mickey’s chin swelled up. I walked to the refrigerator-freezer and grabbed a bag of frozen peas. Organic frozen peas that I’d probably never consume. “Here,” I said to him. “This may be the last nice gesture you’ll get, so talk fast.”
Mickey put the bag on his chin and eyeballed the crowd that had now surrounded him. “Fine. Like Norrie said, it had nothing to do with Gerard. Or his money. Devora had a dislike for my girlfriend, Bailey Wagner. And dislike is putting it mildly. She used her connections and saw to it Bailey got passed over for a number of roles. With no recourse, Bailey did what she could. Miniscule parts, commercials, and understudying. She was the backup actress for Priscilla’s lead role in Light-Star’s major motion picture. That’s when I got the idea to rid the world of Devora Dobrowski once and for all while at the same time framing Priscilla for the murder so that the lead role would go to Bailey.”
Priscilla broke free from Gordon and Godfrey, who each had a hand on either arm, and charged Mickey like a linebacker. “You monster! You were going to let me rot in prison for a crime you committed! I’ve got news for you, buddy. There aren’t enough peas in Norrie’s freezer to save you from what I’m about to do.”
“He’s not worth it, Priscilla!” I shouted. Thankfully, Bradley got an arm around her waist and moved her away from Mickey.
Skylar, who still hadn’t budged from his spot near Mickey, glanced at Priscilla and then back to Mickey. “Hmm, so when there wasn’t enough evidence to charge Priscilla, you decided to crank it up a notch to get her out of the way.”
Mickey nodded. “I never intended to kill her. Only put her out of commission for a while. It wasn’t personal like it was with Devora. Priscilla simply stood in the way of Bailey getting her big break.”
“I’d like to give you a big break,” Priscilla said. “Starting with one of your arms. But in a way, some of this was my own fault, I suppose. I let everyone believe I was exonerated for the murder and that I could leave New York any time I wanted, but it wasn’t true. My passport’s locked up with all of yours.”
“I don’t understand why you’d lie about that,” Bradley said to Priscilla.
“B
ecause I wanted to see Skylar and Mickey’s reactions when I told them. If either of them thought I killed Devora, they would have been really ticked that I got off free as a bird. And that would have meant they weren’t involved in her murder. Unfortunately, those two keep their emotions close to their chests.”
“Yeah, like that epaulet chain.” I moved closer to Mickey until we were face-to-face. “Tell me, how did you pull off the murder?”
“Like clockwork,” Mickey answered. “And a stroke of luck. I found Priscilla’s lost necklace and pocketed it. Careful to wear my winter gloves to avoid fingerprints. It was similar to the chain on my jacket but not as strong. Still, I figured it would be believable under the right circumstances.”
“Wrapping it up in a cattail and putting it by the edge of the Ipswiches’ pond where it was bound to be discovered?”
“Uh-huh. But that came much later. I had already approached Devora the day before about scouting out a new and better location. She handed me a note back at the hotel and underlined it with that hideous lipstick of hers. So, when Skylar and Rikesh went to the van to check on the sound feed the next day, I knew I had everything I needed to get Devora out of the picture for good. Once we trekked up to that little pond, I caught her off guard, and, well, the rest is history. Not wanting to have the evidence in plain sight, I decided to wear it around my neck rather than put it back on the jacket.”
“But you forgot one thing,” I said. “Devora’s handwritten note. The lab tech found it in the bushes under my living room window. Let me guess. It slipped out when you retrieved her eyeglasses. You couldn’t very well leave them at the scene when they might come in handy later. Tsk-tsk. Should have waited until you got inside before reaching into your pocket.”
“Hey, I’m really sorry about that. All I meant to do was—”
“Scare the living crap out of me?”
“No. Cast suspicion on you and scope out your house just in case.”
Just then, the lights began to flicker for good and we were plunged into darkness. All I could feel were bodies pushing against each other and enough scuffling to make me wonder if I’d need to have Francine’s floors refinished.
“He’s getting away!” Gavin shouted. “I had him in my grip but he broke loose.”
“We’re on it!” Theo shouted back.
More scuffling, pushing, crashing, and bumping. Someone must have opened the kitchen door because a blast of cold air swept through the place. Outside, in the dim grayish light, I could see a figure running toward one of the cars.
“Hurry!” I yelled. “Before it’s too late.”
In retrospect, I should have called Deputy Hickman and let the sheriff put out a BOLO. Instead, I ran shoeless, headfirst out the door, only to trip on the slick steps and fall into cold, wet snow.
Chapter 38
“Are you all right?” Godfrey asked. He was the first one out the door after me and pulled me up. “I don’t know whose boots I grabbed,” he said, “but they fit.”
“I’m fine, but Mickey’s getting away. He probably has another pair of shoes stashed in that van. He’ll be on the thruway in a matter of minutes. The wind isn’t going to stop him.”
“No,” Godfrey answered, “but someone else will. Take a look.”
Another figure emerged from the murky darkness and within seconds had knocked Mickey to the ground.
“Quick! Call the sheriff! Call nine-one-one.”
The melee that ensued was over before I knew it and all I could see was Mickey on the ground with someone’s foot resting on his stomach. Killer or no killer on the loose, my guests each had the good sense to grab a pair of boots, no matter who they belonged to, and put them on before running across the lawn to see what happened.
“It’s Stefan!” Rikesh yelled. “I thought he was in jail.”
“You thought wrong,” Stefan shouted back. “It was all a trap to get the killer to let down his guard and it worked. I was never arrested. I hung out at the hotel like Norrie and I planned it. Then, at nine, I drove over here. Good timing, I’d say.”
Off in the distance I heard sirens and I knew Godfrey had made the call.
“You can get your damn boot off my chest,” Mickey said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You can say that again.” This time it was Skylar’s voice and the edge to it was sharper than most cutlery knives.
“I’ll step back,” Stefan said. “But you better get your sorry butt up and walk straight ahead to the house.”
Not that Mickey had much choice. Gavin, Gordon, Rikesh, and Bradley had him pretty much corralled so all he could do was walk directly to the house and into the kitchen, where Priscilla apparently had also been corralled, only in her case by Glenda and Zenora. Cammy, meanwhile, worked frantically to clean up the mess of plates and assorted kitchenware that landed on the floor during the melee.
“Inhale the aromatic scent of my special passionflower and lemongrass mixture,” Glenda said. She handed Priscilla a small tin but not before removing the lid. “Go on, take a whiff. These herbs were recently dried. A few good inhalations and your anxiety will dissipate.”
Zenora put her hand on Priscilla’s shoulder. “If that doesn’t work, I have valerian root in my car. I never travel without it.”
“Forget the herbs,” I said. “Everyone’s anxiety will dissipate once Deputy Hickman gets here and slaps a pair of handcuffs on Mickey’s wrists.”
Well, almost everyone’s. Mine hit the ceiling the moment Grizzly Gary set foot in the kitchen three or four minutes later. “Good Lord! Please don’t tell me you made a citizen’s arrest, Miss Ellington. The last thing I want to do is deal with the paperwork for New York Penal Code section 35.30.”
“No, we didn’t. I mean, I didn’t. But we’ve got Devora’s killer. It’s Mickey Permutter, one of the cameramen. He also broke into my house and hid her glasses, not to mention running Priscilla McCoy off the road. And if I’m not mistaken, got his girlfriend to pretend to be me on that phone call to the Ramada. Oh, and before I forget, he pushed Priscilla down the basement stairs, only it wasn’t the stairs, it was my pantry.”
Deputy Hickman gave me the funniest look. “Exactly how much of Two Witches wine did you consume?”
“I can explain.”
With the help of Theo, Don, Godfrey, and Bradley, Deputy Hickman was able to piece together the details surrounding Devora Dobrowski’s demise. Then he read Mickey his rights and carted him off. Just like that.
“Someone call Renee and get a barrister,” Mickey shouted, but Skylar slammed the door shut.
“Holy cow,” Rikesh said. “Too bad we weren’t filming tonight’s screening party. It may have won an award in one of those indie film festivals.”
Skylar glanced at me from where he was standing and rubbed his chin. “Geez, in all the hubbub I forgot we’re supposed to show the footage to Norrie.”
“Um, that’s not exactly necessary,” I replied. “Showing the footage was a ploy to get everyone over here. Renee was desperate to get all of you back to Toronto. Deadlines and all.”
Then, out of nowhere, Priscilla started to cry. Softly at first, then louder sobs. “That storm will sock us in for days and I’ll never make it to LA. That bouncing bimbo Bailey will get what she and her boyfriend wanted after all.”
“Another whiff of the passionflower and lemongrass?” Zenora asked, but Priscilla sobbed into her hands until Cammy grabbed a paper towel and handed it to her.
“Listen, I don’t know about anyone else,” Gavin said, “but I’d like to get back to the hotel before that storm really hits.”
Stefan gave a nod and edged toward the door. “Way ahead of you. I’m just glad this is over with.”
Moments later Gavin was out the door with Gordon and a sobbing Priscilla. It was surprising how fast Skylar and Rikesh packed up their equipment and loaded it in the van before taking off.
“Gosh, Norrie, I hate leaving you here to clean up,” Cammy said. “I can stick around a bi
t longer.”
“Nah, we’ve got it,” Theo told her. “We’re just down the driveway. The rest of you really should get a move on. Come on, Don, we’ll start in the living room.”
With that, Glenda, Zenora, and Godfrey headed out the door, but not before I pulled Godfrey aside and gave him a hug. I caught that citrus scent as I brushed his cheek and hurried to end the hug. The night didn’t need any more drama.
A few seconds later I could hear Godfrey telling the ladies about natural herbs used for pest control but I think it wafted over them. Bradley stood by the kitchen window and looked out. I reached behind him and threw my arms over his shoulders. “Thanks for believing in my plan.”
The hug turned into a kiss and then another. “I believe in you, Norrie. Everything else comes with the territory. Listen, I really should get on the road or you may be stuck with me until the weekend.”
“There are worse things to be stuck with.”
Still, Bradley put on his coat, gave me another kiss and promised we’d dine at Port of Call on Saturday even if we had to dig ourselves out of the snow. From sweeping up broken plates to vacuuming crumbs, Theo and Don zoomed through the house like nobody’s business.
“Hey,” I said, “we’ve got all the desserts. We never got around to serving them. What do you say we make a dent in them?”
“Only if you promise not to get more crumbs on the floor,” Don replied.
“Relax. That’s why we have Charlie.”
“Yeah, speaking of which, where is he? I haven’t seen him all night.”
“Uh, that’s because I shut him in my bedroom. Not only would he beg for food with so many people in the house, but he’d pass gas and asphyxiate all of us.”
“Yeesh. All Isolde does is groom herself and toss up the occasional hairball. That’s the beauty of owning a cat.”
We spent the next hour eating Fred and Emma’s pastries and congratulating ourselves for catching Devora’s killer.
