Beeline to Trouble (24 page)

Forty-one

It wasn’t as though Effie was rushing at me with
rabid foam dripping from her mouth, or with the pitchfork’s deadly prongs aimed directly at my heart, or anything like that. She was probably about to work in the garden and my so-called intuition was going off on a tangent. Since she wasn’t netted head to foot, the spider invasion must finally be under control.

“Hey, Effie,” I called out, as friendly as can be, considering the enormous weapon at her disposal. “I was just looking for you. Come sit with me.”

I would have loved to add, “And ditch the pitchfork, please,” but even I can recognize overreactions when I see them.

Effie stopped, jammed the tines of the pitchfork into the grass at the end of the patio, left it standing upright, and joined me empty-handed. My inner mouse sighed in relief.

“Why are you still hanging around?” Effie asked in a light voice that matched mine. She glanced at the pile of crumpled paper before sweeping over to my most current written musings, which I hid by laying an arm across them. Nonchalantly, coolly, I might add.

“I love this view,” I said. “The peacefulness, the quiet. I don’t get much personal space in my life with the store and all.” Which wasn’t untrue. Just try to have a moment of peace with “I Spy” living next door and Hunter always after the bennies that come with living together.

“So you’re hiding out for a while?”

I nodded.

“That’s too bad that you have to hide to find personal space.”

“Yes, but what is, is. By the way, didn’t you hear me knocking on your door a little while ago?”

“No. I must have been in the shower.”

“You don’t have to lock up your home in broad daylight. Not in Moraine anyway. I know Chicago is different, but here, you’re safe in your own home.”

Effie looked up sharply at my reference to her hometown then nodded as though she was going to take my advice in the future. “Old habits,” she said.

“When is Chance coming back?” I asked, thinking fast. “I have a landscaping problem he might be able to solve for me.”

“Not until later.”

“Did he take the truck?”

“Yes,” she said, either lying through her teeth, or maybe she really didn’t know that Harry had it in his evil clutches. If the latter was the case, I clued her in.

“I saw Harry Bruno driving the work truck going south. He had someone with him, a woman. I thought it might be you, but . . .” No sense stating the obvious, which was that I’d been mistaken about the identity of the woman.

At this point, Effie should have seemed more concerned about her husband’s actual whereabouts if the errand thing was true. Instead, she looked off toward the lake. “Is that right?” she said.

“How do you and Chance know Harry?” I said, doing my best to sound firm, determined, with a no-nonsense tone that implied I wasn’t likely to accept any fabrications on her part.

“What makes you think that we do?”

“You let him use the Paines’ truck. And he was staying with you.” I wasn’t certain of that last part, but it made sense. Where else would he have holed up? That did the trick. Sometimes guessing pays off.

“If you must know, I used to work for him. But Harry Bruno is a bad man,” she said. “That’s why I left his employment. He showed up here and said I owed him a favor and that he wanted a place to stay for a few days. I was afraid to say no.”

“How did he find you?” I leaned back, pretty proud of my interrogation skills. I’d done much better than Sally or Johnny. Wait until they all heard this.

Effie certainly seemed fearful. “He has resources, that’s what he told me.”

“If you worked for him, you must have known his wives?” Why hadn’t any of this come out earlier? Was Harry that scary?

She shook her head. “No, I didn’t know either of them, not until after Nova Campbell died. Harry or Patti did it, one of them had to. I’m so sorry for bringing that bad man into your lives.”

Poor Effie. She seemed nervous, intimidated by Harry Bruno, and sincerely apologetic.

Still, I couldn’t help asking, “Where were you that morning? Where was Chance? And can anyone vouch for either of you?”

Immediately Effie became visibly agitated. “Are you implying that I or Chance had anything to do with Nova’s death?”

“Of course not.” Okay, I was doing a little wishful thinking. Better one of you than my sister. Although Harry would do just fine. I wasn’t so sure how I felt about Patti being the murderer, though.

“I’m sure you want to get your sister off,” Effie said, sort of huffy, “but don’t go making accusations against us. She’s in jail for a reason.”

And with that, Effie got up, walked over to the pitchfork, pulled it out of the ground (I went on guard momentarily), and stomped out to the garden.

Geez. Did I believe her? She still hadn’t accounted for her husband’s whereabouts. Should I go after her? Ask more questions?

On the side of the rose garden, Effie began using the pitchfork to dig into a pile of compost, lifting and turning the fertile matter the same way I work mine. Roses (actually all flowers and vegetables) love organic compost, and last year I’d convinced Holly to insist on keeping a compost pile going. It was good to see that she still was following through.

I called Patti’s number. She didn’t pick up. I tried calling Hunter but only got his voicemail. I was annoyed that he snuck out earlier, but still I left a message to meet me at Holly’s house for some fun in the sun. “And bring Ben,” I said to the machine, “since he loves a good swim, too.” Maybe we could salvage our day after all.

Speaking of the sun, it was really turning out to be a hot one today, but it was still comfortable in the shade with a bit of a breeze blowing off the lake. I went inside and opened another soda. Then went back to writing down more meaningless junk.

And that’s when more than just Harry in Holly’s truck started going south.

Forty-two

Johnny Jay’s police car pulled up alongside my
truck. I spotted it instantly from my peripheral vision. He climbed out, hitched his bossy pants, shoved on a pair of mirrored shades, and headed my way with his usual swagger.

I seriously considered hightailing it out of there. The chief isn’t much of a runner. I’d beat him in foot races so many times growing up, I’d lost count. Some of the time we were having competitive races with other kids, seeing who was faster, and I’d won my fair share. But some of the time I had to run to save my skin when I’d caught Johnny Jay bullying some poor kid. Wanting to redirect his focus to me, I’d thump him in the back of the head, not hard, it didn’t take much to get his attention. Trust me when I say the guy really can’t run.

However, these days he had a gun within easy reach on his hip and was probably an expert marksman. I might be rather impulsive, acting before thinking an action all the way through, but I’m not a total idiot. Johnny just might dislike me enough to shoot to kill.

“How did you find me?” I wanted to know, when he came to a frowning halt.

“You called our emergency number when you reported the truck stolen again. Your cell phone pinged off a tower not too far from here,” he said all proud of himself. “A little triangulating got me close enough to figure out where you were. It’s high tech all the way for Moraine law enforcement.”

Damn my phone. Or rather damn modern technology and whoever decided to make an innocent person’s cell phone into a homing device for overzealous law enforcement officials who had nothing better to do than stalk the very citizens they were supposed to be protecting. Was nothing sacred anymore?

In the garden, Effie stopped working and rested on the pitchfork. Her eyes were glued to us. I hoped they stayed that way. Johnny Jay didn’t always operate within the law, but he only committed abusive indiscretions when he didn’t have an audience.

I thought it best to point out that fact.

“Effie Anderson is right over there,” I said to him, glancing in her direction. “So mind your manners.”

Johnny Jay turned his head and made note.

Effie wiped her brow, which reminded me just how hot it was out in the sun, without the benefit of the shade I was enjoying. Then she dug the pitchfork into the earth same as last time and headed for the carriage house.

Something about the rose garden and spiders started taking root in my brain, sprouting a little web of new ideas.
Not what it seems
played in my head again.

“I’m going to hook everybody up to a lie detector,” Johnny said to me. “You included. I’m here to escort you to the station.” He pulled out those same stupid handcuffs he always threatens me with. “You can come along quietly or . . .”

I sighed. “Let me put these things away first. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

While Johnny waited near his car, I picked up the crumpled pile of notes and the empty cans, took everything inside, and dumped them in the garbage. I also discarded my dream of an afternoon in the sun with Hunter.

Soon, Johnny would know everything I knew, every single last connection between all these people, including the one between Effie’s past employer and Nova’s ex-husband. I’d leave him to sort through the convoluted mess. I couldn’t do any more than I already had.

Then out of nowhere, I remembered several comments about the night the flavorists had arrived. At the time, it had seemed insignificant, but now that I had more information regarding Effie’s past, it made some sense. Nova had rubbed Holly the wrong way, but she’d also had a run-in with Effie the night before her death. I tried to remember back.

Holly and I at her outdoor table, me meeting Nova for the first time, Holly saying that Effie had had a strong reaction to Nova the night before. And Camilla right before she left for the airport, dissing Effie. Something about even self-absorbed Nova seeing through the housekeeper.

I walked out of the house, actually looking forward to the upcoming interrogation with Johnny Jay. Pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, and some of us had more explaining to do.

That’s when I saw Effie coming at me with . . . Oh My God . . . was that a Taser?

Forty-three

Giant bolts of electricity hurtled toward me. The
pain was excruciating, like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I heard a scream far away then realized it came from me. My muscles went rigid, and I keeled over.

Later I learned that the agony inflicted by a Taser only lasts about five seconds, but that was the longest five seconds of my entire life. When it finally ended, I struggled to sit up.

“Get up, or I’ll use it again,” she said.

“Where did you get a Taser?” was all I could think to ask. Was I slurring?

“The police chief is a generous guy,” Effie said. “Get up.”

I wobbled to my feet, unsteady, and spotted my cell phone on the ground where it must have fallen from my hand. Effie kicked it away, motioning me toward the squad car. I stumbled over. Johnny Jay sat slumped in the backseat, looking like I felt, an indication that he’d had the same treatment. Effie opened the back door. “Get in,” she told me, then to Johnny, “Don’t try anything funny, or I’ll Taser you again.”

Both of us complied. I would have done anything to stay clear of more of that torture.

I’ve been in Johnny’s backseat before, but this was the first time I’d seen Johnny Jay in the rear of his own vehicle. It has standard vinyl seats, bulletproof glass—which doesn’t matter because Johnny was minus his weapon—steel plating on the back of the front seats to discourage stabbing attempts, and a tough plastic screen between front and back. Did I mention the doors can’t be unlocked from the inside?

We sat next to each other gathering our wits. My body felt weak and feeble, but my mouth had plenty of energy. I said to Johnny, “Let me get this straight. Effie Anderson Tasered us with your own stun gun? Then she helped herself to the weapon in your holster, and now we are locked in the back of your squad car?”

“Shut up, Fischer.”

“What’s your plan?” I wanted to know, opening and closing my hands, my fingers tingling. “How are you going to regain control of the situation?”

“I can’t think while you’re yapping.”

Just then, Effie got into the driver’s seat, and turned her head to smile at us through the plastic partition. “Comfy?” she said.

“Not really,” I said back. “Does all this mean you’re the one who killed Nova Campbell?”

Johnny Jay groaned. “Nice hostage tactic, Fischer. If you don’t mind, I’ll handle things from here.”

“Be my guest,” I told him. “You’ve done such a great job of handling things so far.”

Effie started up the car.

“You even left the keys in the ignition?” I said to Johnny, stating the obvious. “You really mucked it up this time.”

Effie drove over to the outbuilding while I tried to think of a way out of this situation. Let me see. I’d told Effie I was hiding out, so she was well aware that nobody other than the chief knew where I was. She’d seen my notes, heard my questions, and had probably decided I was getting too close. Then Johnny had showed up, and for all she knew I’d called him over to convince him to arrest her for the murder of Nova Campbell.

No wonder she’d gone on the attack. We were both going to get a bullet to the brain.

“You can blame this on her, Chief,” Effie said, apparently meaning me. She drove inside the building and parking next to the ATVs. “Her and her twenty questions. Wanting to know where Chance went, mentioning my Chicago connection, calling you, plotting against me.” Effie gave me a hateful glare.

“Where is Chance, anyway?” I still wanted to know and finally had a chance to find out.

But Effie ignored me completely. “I had to kill Nova Campbell,” she said to Johnny. “I couldn’t believe it when she walked into the house that night. Then later she came to the carriage house and threatened to expose me to the Paines, and tell Harry where I was.”

So Effie had lied when she said she didn’t know Nova.

Then I remember Holly telling me that Nova had gone upstairs early claiming a headache when in fact, she snuck out to hassle Effie.

“Does Chance know about this?” I asked.

Effie kept right on talking, directing her remarks to the chief. “I’d taken some money from Harry’s business, a little at a time. Why not? He had so much and I had so little. Then one day an auditor showed up to go through the books. I had to get out of town. That’s why I married Chance, for a new name and a new home. Harry never would have found me if his ex-wife hadn’t shown up.”

I doubt that, I thought, since I figured Harry could’ve easily found Effie if he’d wanted to, just like he’d found Patti. But this wasn’t the time to bring that up.

“Maybe we can cut a deal,” Johnny told her. “It’ll go easier on you if you surrender and make a full confession.”

“I’m confessing right now,” Effie said with crazy eyes. I wondered why I hadn’t noticed them before. “She promised she’d give me a little time to make it right with Harry on my own. That bought me a little time to plan on how to get rid of her. I knew about the water hemlock, so I poisoned the carrot juice. But she’d lied to me and called Harry that same night. There he was, right at the door demanding his money back, threatening to torture my husband, make me watch. A very bad man.”

“What happened to Chance?” I inserted again.

“Harry was threatening to hurt my husband, so I had to tell Chance who Harry was. I told him to get away while he could, before Harry came back with the truck. Instead, he asked all kinds of questions, until Harry pulled in and Chance finally got it through his head and took off.”

“Where did he go?”

“He drove the ATV clear to the other side of the county and holed up with his uncle. I’ll have to leave him behind.”

“You need to let us out of this vehicle,” Johnny said.

“Killing a cop doesn’t bother me,” Effie said.

I had some serious hyperventilating going on after that remark. Here I was, about to lose my life, and with Johnny Jay of all people!

“Do something,” I mouthed at him. He shrugged back, at least three shades paler than normal. So much for his usual bluster, the buffoon.

Effie got out of the squad car, leaving the motor running, slammed the door behind her, and walked out of view.

“I told you to back off my family,” I said to Johnny. “If you hadn’t been so obsessed with bringing down one of us, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“I’ll think of something,” he said, without a trace of confidence.

“You better make it quick.”

Effie pushed a button and the overhead door descended. Then she was back, leaning in the driver’s door. She didn’t have Johnny’s gun in her hand. A good sign. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do with your bodies yet,” she said. “But I’m very resourceful. By the time they find them, I’ll be long gone.”

“You aren’t going to shoot us?” I asked.

“I hate the sight of blood,” she replied. “I’m giving you a break. Carbon dioxide is supposed to be painless.” She ducked out and was gone, leaving the driver’s door wide open and the car pouring out emissions.

I pounded on the plastic separating us from freedom.

Now, or very soon, would be a very good time for nosy Patti to show up. Or Max and Holly. Hunter would be around later, looking for me. But he would be too late.

Johnny just sat there like a big slug.

“Kick out the window,” I advised him.

“Bulletproof,” he said.

I looked over at him, saw the defeat in his eyes. We were doomed.