by Lauren Carr
Her laughter was cut short when a white and tan rocket shot out of the open deck door and darted between her legs.
Foxy was fast, but not too fast for Constance to notice that she had something in her mouth.
“What is that little mongrel doing with—Queen’s phone!”
Foxy raced down the steps to the yard.
Constance realized that if the police got their hands on the burner phone that she had been using to text Edward’s phony S&M partners, they could trace the messages back to her.
“Bring that back here!” Constance ran down the steps after the little dog.
Like a horn declaring a call to battle, Gnarly let out a howl that could be heard across Spencer Point.
When Constance hit the ground, Loxy and Moxy darted out from under the deck and crossed paths around her legs to trip her. She did a belly flop on the patio.
Foxy, Moxy, and Loxy made their getaway to the private beach. Joining them, Roxy took up the rear of the pack. They rounded the end of the stone wall and escaped into the gardens of Spencer Manor.
Hot tears of anger filled Constance’s eyes.
They’re dogs. Damn dogs. What were they going to do with that phone anyway? Bury it. That’s what they’ll do. So what if it ends up buried in Robin Spencer’s stupid rose garden. What if Mac Faraday finds it. He won’t know what it means. It’s a burner phone. I’d paid cash for it two years ago. He’ll just find a bunch of dirty text messages between the Queen of Pain and Little Boy Blue. But what if he puts it together?
With a gasp, she realized that she had left the burner phone she had set up for Edward with his body. If the Queen’s phone is found on the Point, that would implicate her. She had to get that phone back and make sure it ended up far away from her.
Cursing, Constance pushed up onto all fours. Her body aching from the fall, she rose to her feet. “Damn mutt! I’m going to kill every single last one of them.”
She went into the house to find her gun.
The discovery of Edward Kleinfeld’s body brought Tonya’s stakeout to an end. It was now a matter of proving that Constance was behind it. David sent his desk sergeant back to Spencer Manor to pack. He needed her at the police station to manage the influx of information from their various investigations. She was also tasked with keeping an ear out for news about Bogie, who was out of surgery and in recovery.
“If you see Constance, don’t say anything to her about us finding her husband’s body,” David ordered before she left the scene at the lakeside. “Just go get your stuff and your dogs. Mac and I will handle Constance Kleinfeld.”
“But we have to handle her fast.” Mac checked the time on his phone. “I’ve got an hour to shower and change and get to the rehearsal.”
“Then I’ll handle her alone,” David said.
“She dismembered her husband,” Tonya said. “She’s a dangerous woman.”
“Which is why I don’t want you approaching her.”
“I’m armed.” She patted her weapon in its holster.
“I don’t care,” David said. “I’m giving you an order. Don’t do anything. Wait for Mac and me to handle this.” His blue eyes narrowed, he waited for her response.
“Yes, sir.”
She steamed during the drive back to Spencer Manor. She slowed down and peered over at the Kleinfeld home as she rolled past. Even if Archie had found out something wonderfully scandalous from the paint fingerprints, the case was over for her.
She had so relished the idea of making a big bust on her own. She had never realized how much she yearned to be out from behind her desk.
With a heavy sigh, she took the walk way between the house and garage back to the rose garden and the stone cottage.
“Hey, Foxy. Loxy,” she called out while making her way into the small house. “Moxy. Roxy. Come along. We’re going home.” She listened for their little yaps and heard nothing.
The silence was eerie.
Guess they’re off playing with Gnarly. They’re probably in the main house getting under Archie’s feet. She decided to pick them up after packing. She went to the loft to gather her belongings.
At first glance, she thought it was her cell phone resting in the center of the bed. A quick grab at the case on her belt confirmed that it wasn’t. She picked it up and hit the button to power it on.
The name across the screen read, “Queen of Pain.”
Tonya’s mouth dropped open in a gasp. Her lips curled up. Where did this little goodie come from? I wonder if a certain creature with tall ears and a long snout had anything to do with this?
She ran down the circular stairs. So anxious to tell someone, anyone, about the spectacular find, she burst out the door to find herself face to face with the barrel of a gun.
“Find something?” Constance held the hand that was not holding the gun out to her. “I believe that belongs to me.”
“Then you admit that you’re the Queen of Pain?” Tonya looked down at the phone as if to read the screen. In reality, she was looking for the record button, which she thumbed while sticking it behind her back and out of Constance’s reach. “I bet Edward never saw that phone you tossed in the trunk with his body.”
“They found him. Good. I was so worried,” she said in a tone filled with exaggerated concern.
“We know you killed him.” Tonya placed her hand on the gun on her hip.
“Knowing and proving are two different things,” Constance said.
“No matter how much you scrub down that bedroom and paint the walls, forensics will find evidence of blood splatter,” Tonya said. “We will find your DNA in epidermal matter on the garbage bags, proving that you put him in them. We may even find strands of your hair. We will prove it.”
“I guess that means I only have the money that I embezzled from Edward’s account to an off-shore bank to live off of,” Constance said. “Now hand me that phone. I’d hate for the police to realize that the Queen of Pain doesn’t exist.”
“You’ll have to take it from my cold dead hands.”
“Very well.”
Tonya saw a huge furry blur slam Constance to the floor and across the deck. The force from the blow caused her to slide several feet before she came to a halt. Four smaller fur-covered creatures shot out from the bushes to clamp down on her arms and legs.
“Your vicious dogs are biting me!” Constance screamed. “I’m going to sue! I’ll sue!”
“Vicious indeed,” Tonya said.
Her hair soapy and wet, Archie was gathering her bathrobe around her when she stumbled outside to see what the cursing was about. Upon seeing Constance under a pile of dogs, she stopped. “What are you doing on our property? I’m having you arrested for trespassing!”
“She was trying to kill me.” Tonya held up the gun Constance had dropped on the deck when Gnarly had tackled her.
“That’s attempted murder and trespassing!”
Constance couldn’t decide between batting at Roxy who was chewing on her hair or Foxy and Loxy who were pulling off her shoes. Gnarly’s jaws were locked around her right arm. “Call off your damn dogs!”
“I’ll do that as soon as I finish writing up my statement about how you were going to kill me,” Tonya said.
“Damn you! I’ll sue!”
The wailing drew Mac and David, who had arrived to question Constance, around the corner from the walkway between the house and cottage.
“What happened?” David held his gun on Constance after Mac ordered the dogs to release her.
“What does it look like?” Tonya held up the cell phone that was still recording. “My team and I just brought down a murderer. I’ve got it all.” She also showed him the gun Constance had used in her threat to kill her.
David tossed the handcuffs to Tonya. “Well then, Sergeant, since this is your collar, you can cuff her.”
“That’s not her real name,” Archie said.
“Whatever your name is,” Tonya said. “You’re under arrest for murder and attempted murder of a police officer.”
“Don’t forget trespassing,” Archie interjected. “She’s been filing complaints every time Gnarly sets foot on her property—well, we’re filing a complaint against her for trespassing onto his.”
“Works for me,” David said. “Murder, attempted murder, and trespassing.”
Chapter Thirteen
The sun was setting on Deep Creek Lake by the time the police had finished processing their murder suspect and placed her in an interrogation room.
Neither Mac nor David had managed to make the time between chasing gunmen and supervising the processing of crime scenes to visit Bogie. The several officers who had been standing by at the hospital reported that the deputy chief was getting the king’s treatment. Being Doc’s man apparently carried clout.
Still, David and Mac were determined to stop by the hospital before going home that night to check on their dear friend—no matter what.
With a sense of determination, David pushed through the door to the interrogation room and held it open for Tonya to step in behind him.
“Your vicious dogs bit me!” As best she could, she held up her bandaged hands, secured with handcuffs to the table. “I’m going to sue your asses and have them all put down!” Delighted with the thought of Gnarly and his friends being destroyed, she laughed.
David and Tonya glanced at the two-way mirror. In the observation room on the other side, Mac and Archie noticed a nervous smile on Tonya’s lips.
David held out the chair for Tonya, who laid down the case file she had put together. He then sat next to her.
Reciting the date and time for the benefit of the recording, David began. “This is an interrogation of Diane Waters, arrested on this date on suspicion of murder.”
Her head shot up. Her eyes grew wide.
“That’s right,” Tonya set the report from the fingerprint database in front of her. “Your fingerprints say it all.”
“You spent twelve years in prison for murdering your first husband,” David said. “You shot him in the head twice and tried to convince the police that someone had broken in while you were out shopping.”
“Someone did break in,” she said. “But that doesn’t matter. I already did my time. It’s history.” She turned to Tonya. “And that cell phone you found—no way you can tie that to me. It wasn’t found in my house, on my property, or in my possession.”
“If it’s so unimportant, why did you threaten to kill me if I didn’t give it back to you?” Tonya asked.
“I never said I was going to kill you.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Positive.”
“Let me refresh your memory.” Tonya slid the cell phone, encased in a plastic bag from the case file to the center of the table. She pressed the button.
“I guess that means I only have the money that I embezzled from Edward’s account to an off-shore bank to live off of. Now hand me that phone. I’d hate for the police to realize that the Queen of Pain doesn’t exist.”
“You’ll have to take it from my cold dead hands.”
“Very well.”
Her face turned bright red with anger.
“I think she remembers now,” David told Tonya.
“Then after you got out of prison, you stole someone’s identity—someone who had a nursing degree, which was what you were until you had killed your first husband,” Tonya said. “Then, you resumed your career at a nursing home, which is where you met Harlan Beckett. Our background check shows that you were working in the same facility where Harlan Beckett spent his last year while dying of cancer.”
“I never heard of Harlan Beckett until my husband inherited his fortune,” Diane said.
“Which is so lucky for you,” David said, “because according to Harlan Beckett’s lawyer, he had no idea where his nephew, his only living relative, was when he did his will. Yet, after his death, there among his papers, in his address book, was Edward Kleinfeld’s contact information.”
Tonya slid a photograph across the table for her to see. “But it wasn’t in Harlan’s handwriting.”
“Guess he had one of the nurse’s write it into his address book for him,” she said. “Nurses do that all the time.”
Tonya slid another sheet of paper across the table and pointed to it. “You did it.” She pointed to the writing on the paper. “This is your signature on your driver’s license and this is the handwriting in the address book. They’re the same.”
She shoved both sheets of paper back at the police officer. “Means nothing.”
“Harlan told you about his nephew while you were caring for him in the nursing home,” Tonya said. “You saw dollar signs. You faked a back injury to get disability and then you hunted Edward Kleinfeld down and seduced him into marriage—never telling him about the fortune coming his way.”
“Since you were already married to him when he was poor, no one suspected you of being a gold digger when he inherited his uncle’s estate,” David said.
“Meanwhile, you were a busy wife taking out one life insurance policy after another.” Tonya slid out a pile of insurance policies. “Six in total.” She shook her head. “The poor guy had no idea that you were planning to kill him before he’d even met you.”
“You can’t prove I killed him,” she said. “I wasn’t even home.”
“Yes, you were,” Tonya said.
“Prove it.”
“The Faraday’s set up additional security cameras after you called animal control on them the second time one of your cats enticed Gnarly onto your property.” David took his cell phone from his pocket. “One of the cameras is focused on the entrance to their driveway—and it just so happens to have a clear view of your driveway in the background.”
“It’s totally legal because the camera is on their property,” Tonya said.
“It also has fabulous night vision.” David set the phone in front of her and hit play on the video.
The security video showed Diane Waters loading the garbage bags into the trunk of the Mercedes. The time stamp read two-thirty in the morning.
“Are those the same garbage bags that we found Edward’s dismembered body in, Chief?” Tonya asked with mock innocence.
“I believe they are, Sergeant.”
Together they watched Diane climb into the driver’s seat of the Mercedes and drive away.
“The time stamp on the security video in the Spencer Inn parking garage has this same car pull in ten minutes later,” David said. “An Uber driver recalls picking you up and dropping you off at a bar in McHenry. At which point you took another Uber car to your home.”
“You thought you could throw us off your trail,” Tonya said, “but we’re smarter than we look.”“How ironic,” David chuckled, “that the Faraday’s efforts to protect themselves against a pain in the ass ended up nailing a cold-blooded killer?”
Chapter Fourteen
“Mac, it’s time to get ready to go.”
Dressed in a long cocktail dress, Archie stepped into the study. Mac’s suit jacket dangled from her fingers. Uncle Eugene held his tie draped around the stem of his martini glass. Mac had been reviewing the case file ever since they had returned home to change for the rehearsal dinner.
“That witch next door made us miss the rehearsal.” She retrieved the tie, the color of which perfectly matched the blue hue of her dress. “If we want to close this case, we can’t miss the dinner. In twenty-four hours, the wedding will be over, and our suspects will be in the wind—along with the killer.”
Mac held up his finger in a reque
st for silence while he finished reading the witness statement he had wanted to review. “I knew it.” He slapped the case folder closed and crossed the study to her.
“Knew what?” After handing off his suit coat to Uncle Eugene, she lifted Mac’s shirt collar and wrapped the tie around his neck.
“I was going over the witness statements from sixteen years ago—the ones our suspects and witnesses gave us right after the murders.”
“When everything was still fresh in their minds,” she said while tying his tie for him. “What about them?”
Gnarly’s bark announced David’s entrance in the foyer.
“Hey, Mac! Have we got time for a drink before we head up the mountain?”
“I didn’t know we were all riding together,” Mac said in a low voice.
A coy grin crossed Archie’s face. “I called Hope and invited her and Gabriel to join us.” She sashayed out the door and up the stairs. “Perfect opportunity for us all to get acquainted.”
“Get acquainted?” Mac chased after her. “We’re in the middle of a murder investigation. This isn’t a school dance.”
Archie stopped at the dining room entryway. “Oh, my.” She clasped her hands to her chest. “Patrick.”
David poured two cognacs—one for himself and the other for Hope. Archie’s eyes fell onto Gabriel, who sat on the top step leading into the drop-down dining room. Gnarly licked his ear while the young man texted on his phone. In the living room, Storm had stolen one of Gnarly’s chew toys.
“What?” Mac whispered in her ear.
“You’ve never seen pictures of your father when he was a teenager.” Archie strode across the length of the dining room and stuck out her hand. “You must be Hope. I’m Archie Monday, Mac’s wife.” She gestured in her husband’s direction. “I understand you met my lesser half.”
