Rear-View Murder: A Gemma Stone Cozy Mystery (12 page)

“Sir, we’re just trying to find out the truth about what happened to Opal,” Gemma blurted out.

“Opal,” he whispered. “Dear, sweet Opal.”

“She wasn’t having an affair with your aide was she?” Gemma asked softly.

The senator shook his gray head and sank down onto the closest chair as if his legs would no longer hold him. He buried his face in his hands.

“We met at a party. She was so pretty, young and full of life. How could I not fall in love with her? Oh, at first it was just sex but...”

Gemma and Holly remained silent.

“Yes, I was your typical dirty old man, but it turned into more than that for both of us. Or at least I thought it did. We couldn’t stay away from each other. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her,” he finished.

“But you’re married,” Gemma said.

He nodded again. “Yes, I am. When we found out she was pregnant, I bought Opal the ring you showed me earlier today.”

“Miller picked it up for you,” Gemma added.

He nodded. “I pledged the rest of my life to her. It would have been my first child and both of us were so excited.”

“Go on,” Holly coaxed.

“The plan was that she would go back to Louisa to have the baby. In the meantime, I would get a divorce, maybe just go back to practicing law and get out of politics altogether.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “We had it all planned.”

“What happened?” Gemma asked.

“She stopped answering her phone. Never returned any of my calls from the day she left. I should have listened to Chuck. He told me I was just a silly old fool, thinking she...”

He was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Senator, it’s me,” Miller said from the other side of the door.

The senator frowned and checked his watch. “He’s early.”

Gemma stood perfectly still while the senator, looking much older now, crossed the space and opened the door. Lifting her chin slightly, she met Chuck Miller’s cold hard gaze.

“What are they doing here?” he asked.

“It’s about Opal,” Senator Dixon told him. “I told them about the affair, the ring, the baby and everything, Chuck. I’m just tired of living with this secret. I just want to go home and try to forget...”

“Did you tell them about the murder?” Chuck said, his voice as cold as his eyes had been earlier.

Senator Dixon gasped. “Murder?”

“Yes. She wouldn’t leave town. Came back here demanding that you leave your wife immediately.”

“No,” the senator said, taking a step backwards. “No, that didn’t happen.”

“Perhaps it was an accident. You argued. You pushed her. She hit her head,” Chuck continued.

The senator looked from Gemma and Holly to Chuck and back to them again, pleading with his eyes. “No. You took her to the bus station and...”

“Well, your suicide note is going to tell them the whole story. How you accidentally killed her and asked me to cover it up by dumping her body,” he explained.

And this time Gemma knew the shiny black object in his hand was not a cell phone. This time it was a gun.

“Just couldn’t live with what you’d done,” Chuck added and waved the gun at Gemma and Holly. “That is, after you kill these two nosy bitches.”

Holly made a whimpering sound. Gemma swallowed hard, fear sliding a cold hand up her back.

“Chuck, this is insane,” Senator Dixon said.

“Not any more insane than you thinking Opal was going to wait for you. We had plans, you and I, remember? You were going to run for governor. I was going to run your campaign. And when you won the election - which you would because I’m just that damned good - I would be your right hand man,” Chuck snarled.

While he talked, he moved two chairs from the small kitchen table so they were sitting back to back. He never took his gun off of the three who had instinctively moved closer together.

“But Opal was in the way,” Gemma finally said.

“Opal and what she represented was in the way,” Chuck said. “Ladies, have a seat.”

When they hesitated, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a handful of zip ties. “I said, have a seat.” He shoved Gemma into the closest wooden chair. After they were seated back to back in the chairs, Miller said, “Now, Senator if you’ll do the honors and make sure these two stay put.”

“I’m so sorry,” Senator Dixon whispered to them as he secured their wrists to the chairs.

“Too late for sorry,” Miller snarled.

Without moving his gun off of them, Miller withdrew a covered syringe from his pocket and popped the cover off of the needle with his thumb. The sight of the hypodermic syringe in his hand scared Gemma more than the gun or any other threats he might make. She found herself unable to do anything but stare at it. Quicker than she thought possible, he shot forward and jabbed the needle deep into her thigh, pushing the plunger all the way in.

Holly screamed.

“No,” Senator Dixon moaned.

“It’s okay,” he said, tossing the syringe aside, getting another out of his jacket pocket. A tiny glass vial came out along with and rolled across the floor. Miller ignored it. “Soon she won’t feel a thing.”

Before anyone could react, he pumped yet another syringe into her.

“Holly, I love you,” Gemma said, thinking she might not see her best friend ever again. The thought was devastating and tears streamed down her face. Nausea rolled through her and she thought she was going to pass out. “I’m sorry I got us into this.”

“It’s okay, honey,” Holly said, her voice sounding very far away.

There was more but Gemma could barely hear her. Her heart raced and blood pounded in her ears. The room was suddenly so hot she could barely breathe.

“What...what...?” Gemma tried to ask. She couldn’t seem to form the question and her own voice sounded slurred.

“Fast acting insulin. It’s what keeps my grandmother alive. But it will have the opposite effect on you. Just ask Opal when you see her.” Chuck said. “But the syringes are small, so the second dose was just to be sure. That will take care of you. Nothing so discreet for the Senator though. For him, suicide note...gunshot to the head.”

Gemma heard a sharp explosion. Holly screamed again. She vaguely wondered if he had shot Holly or the senator...or had he shot her after all? Her thinking was fuzzy and she simply could not keep her eyes open. Breathe, she kept saying to herself, breathe. But even that was becoming more and more difficult.

The last thing she heard was a thud and then glass shattering.

“G
emma. Gemma, honey, wake up.” That was Holly and she sounded frantic.

Gemma struggled to open her eyes but she was so, so tired. She just wanted to sleep but Holly kept yelling at her. And then she smelled blood and something else and her mouth was full of something sweet, very, very sweet. She choked, strangled and the thick substance slid down her throat. That was followed by more and she began fighting, struggling against whatever was happening. If this kept up, she would drown.

“She’s coming around,” Holly moaned. “Come on, Gemma. Wake up.”

Finally, Gemma found she could move her hands. She smacked at whatever was in front of her face, pushing it away and turning her head. The sticky substance covered her cheek and slid down her neck.

“Stop.” Gemma felt like she was screaming the word but realized the word had come out as a grunt. She tried again, “Stop.”

“It’s okay, honey. Open your eyes and look at me,” Holly was practically sobbing, her voice right at Gemma’s ear.

At long last, Gemma forced her eyes open and looked straight into the blood spattered face of Senator Everett Dixon. He was holding her against him in the crook of his arm like an infant. After smiling down at her, he placed whatever he had been holding in his hand on the table. He maneuvered her into a sitting position while Gemma swiped at her face, her hand coming away covered with something sticky.

“Not blood,” she muttered, looking at her hand.

“Not blood,” Holly said, squeezing her other hand.

“Syrup.” That was the Senator. “The insulin he gave you caused your blood sugar to drop. That is why you are still disoriented. Your body was shutting down your brain to try to keep your heart and lungs working a bit longer. My wife is a diabetic so I knew what to do.”

Sirens filled the air just as someone pounded on the door.

“Senator Dixon? Senator, this is the police. Are you alright?” That someone on the opposite side of the door wanted to know.

Holly left her side only long enough to open the door. Several police officers stormed into the room, followed by paramedics.

“He’s been shot,” Holly told them.

Gemma sat up slowly and realized that the senator had slumped to the floor nearby.

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” Holly told her.

The two sat side by side on the floor, watching paramedics work with the older man.

“Miller?” Gemma whispered.

Holly simply pointed at the broken window. “Senator Dixon wrestled with him and got shot in the process. He pushed Miller out of the window, Gemma. He saved us.”

“Is he...?”

Holly shook her head. “I called 911 as soon as he cut the zip ties holding me to the chair.”

More EMT personnel entered the room, laden with equipment, and someone directed them to Gemma. Holly refused to leave her side and they began their examination quickly.

“He gave her insulin, but she is not diabetic.” Holly explained, clutching Gemma’s hand.

The young EMT nodded and finished taking Gemma’s vitals. “What kind?” he asked her.

Holly handed him an empty vial from the floor.

The EMT nodded. “Fast acting. I use the same kind myself. It should stop working just as fast if we can get enough sugar in you. Eat this”

He handed her a tube that looked like toothpaste but the contents tasted like cake frosting. She felt a flash of pain in the fingertip of her other hand and realized he was checking her blood sugar level.

“There sure are a lot of people with diabetes,” Gemma slurred.

“Yeah, it’s becoming the American epidemic. Whoa!” the EMT said. “Have another tube of glucose paste. You are still in hypoglycemia”

Gemma’s own voice sounded far away and she could scarcely hear it over her own racing heart. “He said his grandmother was diabetic.”

“That’s probably how he got his hands on the insulin.”

“I still feel bad,” Gemma told him. “Kinda woozy.”

“You will for a while but you’re going to be fine. We’re taking you to the hospital just to make sure.

All Gemma knew was that she was covered in cold sweat and sticky syrup and so very, very tired.

W
hen Gemma woke up again, Nick was sitting in a chair by her bed. She was aware of an IV attached to her right hand and confused for just a moment.

“Hey,” Nick said, standing up and coming to her side when he saw that she was awake.

His hair was sticking straight up as if he’d been raking his hands through it while he sat. Gemma knew that meant he was worried or upset about something.

“Hey, Charlie Brown,” Gemma breathed.

Nick kissed her fingers and she loved the feel of his stubble on her skin.

“Where’s Holly?”

“She went with Mitch to get coffee,” Nick said.

“How did you know...?”

“I’m a newspaper reporter, remember? It’s my job to know about things like this. And when I heard the senator had been shot, I put two and two together, grabbed Mitch and we headed down here.”

“Sorry I scared you,” Gemma said.

“That was the longest trip of my life, especially since the hospital wouldn’t tell us a thing.”

“Miller was going to kill us,” Gemma said, still not believing the words even as she said them.

“But he didn’t.”

“The senator?”

“He’s fine. Lost some blood but he’ll be okay.”

“And, you, young lady, are not ever leaving my sight again,” Nick said, pushing her hair back off of her face and then looking at his hand.

“Syrup,” Gemma explained.

He nodded as if that made all the sense in the world.

Seconds later, the hospital door opened and the last person Gemma thought she would ever see again stepped into the room. He carried a small bouquet of flowers.

“I come bearing gifts,” he said with a little smile.

Gemma pushed herself up to a sitting position. “Nick Leonard, this is Detective Patterson with Richmond PD.” She said and accepted the flowers. “Thank you.”

“It was the least I could do for someone who solved a murder case that I didn’t even think was a murder,” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “And who almost got herself killed in the process.”

“I just couldn’t let it go. No one else cared, and that made me mad.”

“You taught me a lesson. One I won’t soon forget,” he confessed.

“Did Miller survive the fall?” Gemma asked.

The detective nodded. “He’s pretty banged up, but we managed to piece together the story from both him and the senator.”

“Senator Dixon had nothing to do with Opal’s death,” Gemma said quickly.

He nodded. “I know. The senator asked Miller to drive Opal home to Louisa. He decided he didn’t want to make the drive and tried to put her on the bus. She didn’t want to go home at all and put up a fight.”

“In the bus station. Sweet Jimmy Blue told us about that.”

“When she was getting back in his car, he whacked her on the head with a tire iron, thinking he would just knock her out and then dump her out on Chamberlayne. Figured that would be enough of a warning. But when he got in the car, he realized he had hit her a bit too hard. She was still alive but just barely. He panicked and shot her full of insulin and then drove around until she was dead.

That statement reminded Gemma of the vicious look on Miller’s face when he drove the needle into her thigh. “Evidently, he’s pretty good at that.”

“Will the toxicology report prove that Miller killed Opal with insulin?” Nick asked.

“I’m not sure,” Detective Patterson said with a shrug. “I’ve never seen a case like this before.”

They pondered that for a moment.

“Miller has been taking care of his grandmother for years,” Detective Patterson told them.