Murder Wears a Little Black Dress

by Debra Sennefelder

  “Hello to you. Did you do anything besides sleep today?”

  Howard gazed at her. He had no comment.

  “Didn’t think so. Want to hear about my whole day?”

  Howard rubbed her leg one last time before strolling out of the living room and disappearing into the bedroom.

  “He’s still a jerk.” With her wineglass in hand, she walked over to the sofa and set the glass on the coffee table. A whoosh of wind assaulted the house and rattled the old windows. She walked over to the windows and peered out. The majestic oak tree’s limbs swayed in the cold, night wind and were precariously close to the power lines. Her spot on Long Island wasn’t a stranger to power outages caused by storms. Darn. She hadn’t had time to get the generator serviced because she’d been busy chasing down a killer. More proof Pepper was right about her.

  She couldn’t keep dwelling on the choices she’d made, since she couldn’t change them. All she could do was move forward and earnestly make better decisions.

  She wrapped her arms around herself. It was a good night for soup. If she remembered correctly, there were a couple of cans in the kitchen cupboard. She turned away from the window and propped both hands on her hips and looked around at the space that combined both dining and living areas. There was a lot of furniture crammed into the space, like the oversized hutch by the table. It used to display her granny’s heirloom dish set downstairs in the formal dining room. Now it was overpowering the small dining area. It needed to go into storage. She’d seen a glass-door cabinet sideboard on Ikea’s website, and it would be perfect in the hutch’s spot. More streamlined and contemporary. It was more Kelly’s style.

  She smiled. She was decorating the apartment. She was going to stay in Lucky Cove and keep the boutique. Granny had given her an opportunity to do what she loved doing, albeit in a place where she never thought she’d be. Whether or not the decision was a bad one or possibly the best one she could make was a toss-up.

  The one thing she knew for certain was she was done running. Granny left the shop to her for a reason. Was it to give Kelly the opportunity to come home and start over? Granny knew Kelly wouldn’t have re-rooted in Lucky Cove for any other reason.

  First order of business was to pack up the collection of Granny’s knickknacks. For now, they’d be stored in the storage room downstairs, along with the stuff she’d pick up tomorrow at the cottage. Later in the week, she’d figure out how to get the hutch out of the apartment. She was definitely going to need Liv’s brother and Gabe.

  Next thing on her to-do list was a biggie. Call Pepper after dinner. They hadn’t talked since their argument, and she’d come to the conclusion she needed to be the one to reach out and apologize for behaving like a spoiled, ungrateful child. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn’t completely agree with Pepper’s assessment. A lot had been thrown at her in just a few months, and most days she felt like she was struggling to breathe, but there were a few instances she could have handled better. And she would. Going forward.

  She assembled a box and taped its bottom then reached for a few sheets of tissue paper and then grabbed a colorful bird statuette. She wrapped the statuette carefully and placed it in the box and continued to repeat the motion again for six more birds. Granny must have gone through a phase at some point. Because after the birds, there were dolphin statuettes.

  The packing was a mindless activity that allowed her thoughts to drift. And drift they did. From ideas of personalized shopping bags to further branding her boutique to contacting the town about the cracks in the parking lot behind the boutique to Bernadette.

  She huffed. All roads led back to Bernadette and the murders.

  She grabbed another handful of tissue paper and wrapped a flower vase. Granny had more knickknacks than any one person ever needed. There were dozens hidden away in cabinets and the linen closet, along with the five on the server. Funny thing was, on her visits over the years, she’d never noticed how many things her granny collected. She never paid attention to the little things. A pang of guilt stabbed at her heart. She guessed each knickknack held a story for Granny. Stories she would never know because she never thought to ask.

  More tears fell from her eyes. “Oh boy. Why am I always crying?” She set the wrapped vase down and walked over to the sofa. She swiped up the wineglass and took a long drink. With the glass in hand, she walked back to the table and sat down at the end of the table where her laptop was set out. Next to the laptop were the copies of Ariel’s file on her psychic investigation. She pressed the ON button of the computer and, within a few seconds, she had her browser opened.

  She should’ve been letting go of the murders. Since she was no longer a suspect, she had no business sticking her nose into the investigation. She had a boutique to run, or rather, a boutique to keep from the brink of failure. Playing Nancy Drew didn’t help her with her responsibilities to the boutique or to Pepper. Even though Pepper quit, Kelly was confident she’d come back once Kelly apologized.

  No matter how chaotic her personal life was with her friends and family, her thoughts kept coming back to Bernadette being held in a cell for murders she probably didn’t commit.

  The look in Bernadette’s eyes the day she discovered Maxine’s body wasn’t a look of someone who was responsible for the death. Or the day DJ Brown was murdered. Bernadette was confused and scared, and that was why she acted in such an irrational way. She wasn’t trying to hurt Kelly. She was trying to save herself. She’s wasn’t a killer.

  Kelly shivered and reached for the cardigan draped on the chair to slip on. The apartment, like the downstairs, was drafty. At some point, she needed to address the heating issue, but she was scared what would be uncovered. An out-of-date furnace, no doubt. She bet the insulation wasn’t energy efficient any longer, and probably the windows too. Dollar signs floated in her mind.

  Kelly opened the file folder and sorted through the documents, which included some newspaper clippings from the Chicago area stating Bernadette’s visions were crazy. There was a lot of information proving Maxine was a fraud. So, it made sense her cousin was one also.

  Besides, Eddie’s death had been ruled an accident, and there was no way the police would reopen the case based on Bernadette’s vision. And the vision was sketchy at best. Bernadette had no details, other than the dress Irene was wearing and she was talking to someone.

  Who was the man? Maybe if Kelly could confirm Irene was having an affair, then the police might consider reopening the case. She’d have to tell Detective Wolman.

  But she’d have to do it soon, because it appeared Irene was moving. Irene opened a PO box, and the packing peanuts on her sofa that she claimed Buster had been playing with were probably for Irene’s move. The widow wasn’t downsizing. She was leaving Lucky Cove with the insurance payout.

  Kelly sprawled out the copies of Ariel’s notes, and one had a few handwritten notations. Ariel had scribbled the name of Maxine’s brother. Marco. The police’s theory was he tried to kill Bernadette out of revenge for his sister’s death.

  All nice and tidy.

  Detective Wolman had an answer for everything.

  Kelly had caught a glimpse of the driver. The incident happened so fast that she didn’t think she could’ve officially identified him in a lineup. Maybe she could. She did a quick internet search for Marco Lemoyne and got quite a few results. To say the guy was shady would be an understatement. She found one article from a Detroit newspaper that Ariel didn’t have in her file, and the article included a photograph of Marco.

  Kelly leaned into the chair. Marco’s hair was a light shade of brown. “He’s not the driver.”

  At that moment, the lights went out in the apartment. She’d lost power. Great. Just great. She pushed her chair back and stood. It was time to break out the candles and find a flashlight. She remembered seeing one in the coat closet. Another thing she needed to do was to prepare an
emergency kit.

  She hurried to the closet but stopped short when she bumped into the front door of the apartment. She cursed. As she began to close the door, her breath caught. She’d shut it when she arrived home. And Howard couldn’t open a door.

  Could he?

  “You’re right about Marco not being the driver. I was the driver.”

  The unfamiliar male voice from behind sent Kelly jumping away from the door and back against the wall. Her body was pressed rigidly against the almond-colored wall, and her hands were balled into fists. Her heart raced so fast she thought she’d pass out.

  “Who…who are you? What…what are you doing here?” Kelly swallowed hard as fear rippled through her. How did the man enter her apartment and she not know it? Her first guess would be, because she was absorbed in tracking down the killer, everything else was tuned out. Apparently that was a pattern these past weeks.

  He stepped forward. She couldn’t get a good look at his face because of the darkness.

  “You’ve been sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. And because of that, other people are asking questions.” He took another step forward. “I don’t like questions.”

  “No…no… I understand. If you don’t want to tell me who you are, you can leave and I won’t say anything. I swear. No one will know.”

  She saw a flash of white. He must’ve been smiling. He probably found her terror amusing. Her entire body shook, from the roots of her highlighted blond hair to her toes, which hadn’t seen a proper pedicure since she left the city.

  “I don’t have any money…but I’ll give you my credit cards and my ATM card… Anything… Please just go.”

  The stranger took another step forward and then pulled out a mini-flashlight from his belt and switched it on, illuminating his face. Kelly gasped. She recognized him from the photograph online and from Mark Lambert’s group photograph of his fishing buddies.

  “No can do. At least, not without you, Miss Quinn.”

  Eddie Singer’s chilling words reverberated through Kelly’s body, and her knees went weak. They buckled, but Eddie grabbed her by the arm before she landed on the floor.

  She struggled to break free of his grip, but it was too tight. “I’m not going anywhere with you!”

  “You don’t have a choice.”

  She yanked her arm hard and was able to slip it from his hold and spun around. She needed to get to her cell phone. Where did she leave it? In her tote bag?

  She didn’t get very far. Eddie grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back toward him, knocking her off balance. He caught her, wrapping his arm around her midsection.

  The flashlight dropped, and he cursed. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”

  “You’re supposed to be dead!”

  “Yeah. That was the idea. Until you and that damn psychic started raising questions.”

  Eddie’s hold around her stomach tightened, so she lifted one foot and, with all of her might, she stomped on his foot. He cursed again but didn’t let go of her. All it got her was an angry tug around her midsection. She guessed the move would have been more effective if she’d had on boots like he did.

  “You’re a fighter. Let’s see how that works for you.”

  His body shifted, and then she heard the click before she saw the gun out of the corner of her eye. Her heart sank, and her body froze.

  “Not so feisty now, huh? Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going downstairs and out back to my truck. You make any funny moves, and I will shoot you.”

  “You’re going to kill me anyway.”

  “Yeah, but do you really want to bleed out on the staircase?”

  She shook her head. She didn’t want to. The thought of Pepper or Liv discovering her body sent a wave of nausea rolling through her. Besides, going along with Eddie for a little while would buy her some time. Time she’d use to figure out a way to escape.

  Chapter 23

  Eddie shoved Kelly out the back door, and she stumbled but remained upright due to his tight hold on her. She quickly regained her balance; all the while fear coursed through her body. She glanced at him, standing several inches taller than her. His gaze was focused ahead. The only sound was the big, sweeping gusts of wind that swayed the overhead tree limbs. She scanned the area. A chain-link fence enclosed the long stretch of deserted parking lot. Not a soul was around. How could a parking lot on Lucky Cove’s Main Street be so desolate?

  He yanked her forward, and she stumbled again. She glanced down and saw the cement stopper. She was being dragged to the spot where she used to park her loaned SUV. Now the space was empty, just like the parking lot.

  Another tug of her arm jerked her head around, and then she saw the van, the one that tried to run Bernadette down, parked just outside of the cast of light from a tall lamppost. It looked like Eddie cut the power to her building to get an advantage over her.

  Kelly swallowed a hard lump in her throat. There wasn’t anyone around to help her. She was on her own.

  “You’ll never get away with this,” she said. Though, once the words escaped her lips, she realized they weren’t very convincing. So far Eddie had gotten away with murder and, once he disposed of Kelly, he’d be free and clear.

  Eddie responded with only a grunt.

  “You faked your death? How’d you manage that?” Kelly thought talking to and engaging the psychopath in conversation might buy her some time. Slow down his stride to the waiting truck.

  “Yeah. It was a good plan,” he boasted.

  “Not really, or else you wouldn’t be here now.” Good going, Kell. Antagonize the murderer.

  His grip tightened on her arm so hard that she yelped.

  “Shut up, already!”

  Kelly pressed her lips together as her mind raced. All the pieces started to come together for Kelly. “Irene knew! She was in on it too. The phone call. You called her after the accident! She was wearing the dress when you called her to tell her your truck went off the road.”

  Bernadette had been right all along. A man had been murdered.

  “Yeah, you’ve got it all figured out. Lot of good it’ll do you now.” He picked up his pace and dragged Kelly to the truck. They arrived at the passenger side, and he reached out for the door handle.

  “Why? Why fake your death?”

  Eddie shook his head. “You’re asking a lot of questions. Guess you haven’t learned your lesson yet.”

  “Don’t you think I have a right to know why you’ve done all this and why you’re going to kill me?” Saying those words out loud caused her stomach to roll. She didn’t want to die. She finally had something to live for, a reason to wake up every day. She glanced at the boutique. Her granny’s legacy would be bulldozed by Ralph in a matter of weeks, just like Gabe said earlier. And who would take Howard? He was kind of a jerk, but she’d fallen in love with him nonetheless.

  “Five hundred thousand reasons. That’s what I owed Leo Manning. I don’t have that kind of money. If I didn’t fake my death, he would’ve killed me.”

  “Who died in the car crash?”

  Eddie shrugged. “Some homeless guy. I offered him a coffee and a ride. Long story short, I sent the truck off the road and it exploded into a big ball of fire. Small town with just a handful of cops. They were eager to close the case quickly. Left them just enough evidence for them to assume Eddie Singer died that rainy afternoon.”

  “What about Maxine?”

  “Yeah, my bad. I thought she was Bernadette. Those chicks looked alike from behind. I never believed in all that psychic stuff, but after you told Irene about the vision, she panicked and called me. I didn’t have a choice. I had to make sure she didn’t keep repeating the story. Then the police were looking at you as the murderer. I really needed to make sure no one believed Bernadette.”

  “That’s why you killed DJ Brown.”


  “Again, no choice. Now, the psychic is arrested and you’ll be dead. Irene and I can leave for Mexico tonight. Get in!” Eddie yanked open the passenger door.

  “Not so fast!”

  A man’s voice startled Kelly. Finally, someone had arrived to discover she was being abducted at gunpoint. Hopefully, the person was calling the police on his cell phone. The sense of relief she experienced was short-lived. The stranger was holding a bigger gun than Eddie’s on them. Then it hit her, the Good Samaritan was either in law enforcement or just an average Joe coming to the aid of a gal in big trouble.

  Eddie’s eyes widened in terror as his body turned to face the stranger. “Leo…”

  Leo Manning? As in the not-so-nice bookie who threatened to kill Eddie? Any relief Kelly had was gone. She wasn’t being rescued. The likelihood Manning would let her go was pretty low, in her opinion, because she was what was called a witness.

  “It’s over, Eddie. Drop your gun,” Leo commanded. A sliver of light from the tall lamp cast down on Leo. Short, pudgy, with a receding hairline, he didn’t look too scary. It was the gun in his hand and his unforgiving tone that scared the daylights out of Kelly.

  Eddie glanced at Kelly and then at Leo. He looked torn between surrendering or shooting. Kelly wasn’t keen on being in the middle of a shootout.

  “I was going to come and see you next, Leo.” Eddie’s voice suddenly became uneven. Gone was the bravado he’d displayed just moments earlier.