The Saucy Lucy Murders (40 page)

What a stupid idea to come up here. Sometimes life, as her daughter would have said, was a total suck fest.

A deep weariness sank into her soul as she dragged herself to the elevators and pressed the up arrow. Inside, she punched the cherry floor button. Each floor of the hotel had been assigned a fruit, like the ones on gambling machines: grapes, lemons, watermelons, etc.

As the elevator swooshed upward, Lexie contemplated how she would admit defeat to her sister. It had been a waste of time to drag Lucy here in the weiner-mobile, sucking rancid ketchup and mustard fumes all the way. She had been out of her mind to think they could solve anything. Who did she think they were, anyway?

Starsky and Hutch?

Once the elevator reached her floor, she plodded down the hall and stood in front of the door to her and Lucy’s room. With a sigh, she produced her card key. As she shoved it into the thin slot, the door
swung wide. What was going on? Lucy wouldn’t leave the door open like that.

“Lucy?” Lexie called as she entered the dark room. No answer. She ran her hand over the wall, looking in vain for a light switch. Her heart pounded a warning in her ears. Something was definitely not right.

“Lucy what’s going on? Are you in here? Is everything all—”

Whack!

Something slammed against the back of Lexie’s head. Dizzy and in excruciating pain, she stumbled forward, crumpling to her hands and knees. Funny, she didn’t see birds circling her head, like in the cartoons. Her temples pinged with clawing sparks and pain gripped her senses.

In the darkness, she could barely see something stretched out in front of her. Reaching out, she groped it with her fingers.

Arms … a body … and legs encased like sausage in support hose.

“Oh, God … Lucy!”

Another crack on the back of Lexie’s skull sent her tumbling into complete blackness.

Then there was nothing.

I
’M COLD.
I
CAN’T MOVE MY FINGERS.
I
CAN’T
move at all. And, oh, my God, my head hurts.

Remember those old Salem witch trials where villagers weighted down the accused with a door covered in a ton of rocks? That’s what it feels like.

What happened? What do I remember?

The café. My murdered dates, my ruined business, the fire at my house, the trip to the Ice Queen Resort. I went back to my room and someone clobbered me hard.

Lucy … is she all right? Oh, God. It’s all my fault.

Lexie opened her sticky eyes and lifted her head despite the terrible pain. She blinked, attempting to focus. She tried to lift a hand. Impossible. Despite her impaired vision, she eventually fathomed the fact she was sitting tied to a chair.

Something moved in front of her and she shook her head to clear it. Finally the blinking and shaking worked and the room came into view. It was a musty
old cabin, possibly one of those she’d seen along Crazy Woman Creek as they drove up the mountain. The fireplace was mossy and the rocks were crumbling, cobwebs hung from the ceiling like strands of silk and the dirt floor was covered with leaves, old rags, and other musty-smelling debris.

An ancient table and three chairs occupied one corner. Lexie assumed she was seated in the fourth chair to the set. A sagging, broken down iron bed hulked in another corner and the one window in the whole place had smudged and broken glass lining the frame, like a child’s crooked teeth.

Outside the broken glass, Lexie stared at the dark, swollen purple sky that spit occasional snow-flakes and sent them fluttering to the ground. It figures, she thought. Maybe now the curse of the drought would end and people could rejoice. She, however, was tied to a chair against her will.

What had happened to her? Who had brought her here?

Who
was definitely the million-dollar question. More importantly, why?

“Hello,” she called out as shivers racked her body. Even her nose was icy and she sniffed. “Is anybody here?” When no one appeared, Lexie began to scream. “Help! Help! Somebody help!”

The door flew open and a squat, mannish figure walked in.

Lexie’s heart leapt and tears sprang to her eyes, obscuring her vision again. “Oh, hello, can you help
me? Can you untie me? Someone smacked me over the head and—”

“I know. My mom hit you,” a slurred voice said.

The figure lifted its sandy blond head and gave her a crooked grin. Lexie’s eyes cleared and she nearly choked at who stood before her. It was Danny, the young man who worked at the senior citizen center.

“Your … your mother hit me? Why?”

“Shhh.” He pressed an index finger to his lips. “My mom says you are a very bad person. She says you hurt us.”

“Hurt you?” Hiccoughs ricocheted through her frame. “How?”

He shrugged. “Dunno. All I know is she told me to watch over you until she got back.”

Hiccough.
“Where did she go?”

He shrugged again and sat on one of the chairs. “Dunno. You got pretty hair. I like it.”

“You should untie me and let me go. I’m a good person. Your mother’s wrong. I didn’t hurt anyone.”

Danny stood up so fast he knocked over the chair, his expression darkened and his eyes blazed. “My mother is not wrong. Don’t ever say she is wrong. Take it back.”

Lexie shrank in her seat and swallowed more hiccoughs. “I’m sorry, Danny. I didn’t mean it.”

“Honest?” His eyes got rounder.

“Honest.”

“OK. My mom will be back soon. You can talk
to her.”

Lexie chewed her lower lip, wondering exactly who Danny’s mother was and why she hated her so much. Her whole body had become a giant ice cube and the hiccoughs continued to tear through her. Stop it, stop it, stop it, she told herself. It hurt too much to hiccough. She swallowed in a desperate, spasmodic rhythm. Amazingly, the hiccoughs went away. Although hiccoughs-from-hell were the least of her worries.

She didn’t have to think long before she heard car tires crunch on gravel. The door opened and in walked Carma Leone with a blast of cool wind, dressed in one of the Ice Queen Resort’s black maid uniforms with a white sweater.

Lexie’s mouth dropped. “Carma? You’re Danny’s mother? Why are you dressed that way?” Her blood ran even colder when she glanced outside and saw the mystery car parked by a fallen log. The same one that had rammed her old POS truck as she was on her way home from Whitehead’s house. The same one that had been following her for months. The same one she and Lucy saw parked outside the casino.

“Ah, I see you recognize my little sports car. How astute you are.” Carma cocked her head to the side.

What was Carma up to? Lexie licked her dry, cracked lips. “You’re the one who’s been doing all these things to me? And murdering people?”

Carma stood beside her son, setting her purse
and a brown paper bag on the table. “You got it right, sweetheart.”

“But why on earth? What do you have against me? And what did you do to my sister?”

“I beaned her pretty hard, but she’ll probably live. I’m not after her. I’m after you.”

“Why?” Lexie choked back tears and fought another wave of hiccoughs.

“I guess I might as well get it off my chest.” Carma thoughtfully examined her perfect red nails. “You see, back in high school, I had this boyfriend named Dan Lightfoot. Remember him? Tall blond football player with the cute dimples?”

“Your
boyfriend? Carma, I never knew you went out with him.”

“No one knew we were together. It was a secret. My mother didn’t like him and we weren’t allowed to date. But I loved Dan with all my heart.” Her gaze drifted off into memories, and she rested a hand on Danny’s head. “Dan was my first, you know. Danny is our son.”

Flabberghasted, Lexie stared at Danny. Could it be?

Maybe that’s why his features seemed so familiar the first time she met him at the senior citizen’s center. Lexie and Dan hadn’t started dating till their junior year. He and Carma must have had their fling before then.

Lexie’s head reeled with disbelief. It was difficult to concentrate.
Carma and Dan.
The entire
concept was alien to her. Could they really have been in love? It was hard to believe, but appeared to be true.

Dan had a son. What would The Undertaker think if he found out? What would Davina think?

“I never heard rumors you were pregnant, Carma. You know high school kids are brutal about gossip.”

“My mom and I covered it up pretty good, didn’t we? Why do you think I slouched and wore all those big, dumpy sweatshirts when I was a sophomore? At the end of the school year, my mom shipped me off to live with my Aunt Alice. I spent most of the summer before Danny was born ratting around in her tiny little trailer. Let me tell you, that was true murder.” She gave an unnatural, high-pitched laugh.

Lexie shifted uneasily in her rope bindings. She had to keep Carma talking until … until what? She had to buy time. Before Carma did something desperate. Again. “You didn’t give Danny up for adoption?”

“The kid had Down’s Syndrome.” She stroked his head and he grinned up at her admiringly. “No one would want him, so my aunt raised him up here, away from prying eyes. I came up to visit as much as I could. No one in Moose Creek Junction ever knew about him.”

“Carma, I’m confused. What does your affair with Dan have to do with me?”

“I always believed once Dan and I graduated from high school, we could get married and the three of us would be together. I’d be eighteen and
it wouldn’t matter what my mom thought. But you came along. You bitch. He fell for you, then you got knocked up with Eva. That was the end of my dreams. You stole him from me. Eva got everything my Danny deserved.”

“How could I steal him from you when I never even knew you two were together? It doesn’t make sense. You should have told Dan you were pregnant. You should have made him take care of things properly. Maybe he would have married you. Don’t you see?”

Carma blinked, seemingly contemplating for a moment, then she began to pace. “Don’t confuse the issue, you whore. It was plain and simple. You stole Dan away from me and ran off to California with him. You had everything. Nice clothes, a home, and a car. A daughter who was normal and had everything she ever wanted: friends, good schools, and now even college. My Danny will never have any of that.”

“That’s not my fault, Carma. Don’t fool yourself into thinking my life with Dan Lightfoot was all wine and roses. He was abusive and violent. He had numerous affairs throughout our marriage and in the end he left me for another woman. Do you see the pattern? He can’t commit to anyone. He doesn’t love people … he only uses them. He used
both
you and me, Carma. He hurt us both. Blame Dan Light-foot for being irresponsible, not me.”

Carma started to shake and she closed her eyes. “It wasn’t his fault. It couldn’t have been. You were the one who changed him, made him think he loved
you and not me. You must have hurt him somehow so he wanted to be with someone else. If he would have stayed with me, I would have been the only woman he ever wanted. He’d have loved me forever.” Carma glared at Lexie, her dark eyes flashing. “You ruined it all, you tramp. You don’t deserve to live.”

Lexie swallowed hard. It shocked her to realize how desperate and confused Carma had become when Dan jilted her. Now it was all becoming clear. “You ruined every attempt I had at being happy once I moved back home. Right?”

“Bingo.” Her eyes narrowed into angry slits. “I killed them all. Hugh Glenwood, Henry Whitehead, and Jack Sturgeon. Of course, I couldn’t have done it if my grandfather hadn’t shared so much of his military training with me. The army teaches men to be killers. Danny’s help made everything possible.” As she stroked his head, he once again glanced adoringly up at her.

“And Elton? What about him?”

“Ah, Elton was a true accident. I was driving past your house that night and I had Danny with me. I thought it might be fun to let him take the wheel. When Elton came barreling out of your house, poor Danny tried to swerve. Since it was his first time driving, he turned the wrong way and
ker-splat.”
Carma shrugged nonchalantly.

Lexie shivered at Carma’s callous attitude. “Someone attacked me at MacGreggor’s Pub, then
threw the rock through my window and set the fire at the café.”

Carma laughed, another high, unnatural laugh. “We did it all, Danny and I. Right down to stealing the butcher knife from your kitchen to kill Whitehead. You really ought to think about putting deadbolts on your doors. Locks are too easy to pick. Of course, you won’t be around much longer to worry about it.”

Lexie sensed she was running out of time and strained at her bonds. They wouldn’t budge. “Carma, you need help. It’s time you admitted it and—”

Carma waved her off and began again. “Every man you went out with was marked for murder, Lexie. Unfortunately for them, they got involved with you. Since you so conveniently came up here and found me, I’ve decided to end it once and for all. I’m tired of keeping up with your whoring. I’m tired of having to kill every man you date.” She snickered. “I’m going to finish you off in flames, the way it should have happened days ago.” She grabbed the brown paper bag on the table, reached inside and produced a box of wooden matches. “The brush and grass around here is extremely dry. No one will think twice about a forest fire burning down this cabin. You, unfortunately, will be inside.”

Lexie strained once again at her bindings. They wouldn’t budge. Anguish sifted through her soul. The ropes were so tight she could barely move. They sawed painfully through her clothing and into
her skin reminding her she would die soon. No one would know the truth behind the murdered men. No one would suspect she’d been murdered. Carma’s plan seemed perfect.

Keep her talking, a small voice persisted in Lexie’s head.

“Carma, back at the casino, why were you crying?”

Her dark eyes flashed again and she rattled the box of matches warningly. “None of your business.”

“If I’m going to die anyway, why does it matter?”

Carma paused thoughtfully, then relented. “Do you think it’s been easy trying to take care of myself and Danny, too, on a nail technician’s salary?” She snorted. “Danny’s medical bills have been enormous. Since he was born, he needed expensive doctors, surgeries, and medicine. I’ve had to support myself by gambling. I’ve done a pretty good job of it, too.”