A Bad Day for Mercy (29 page)

“Wait a minute,” Stella said, holding up a hand. “I’m sorry, but I gotta stop you there a sec. ’Cause I got a picture in my head that just can’t be right. You’re saying you’ve got tummy control underpants that somehow let a man’s johnson swing free so it can, ah…”

“It’s nothing tawdry or lewd, like you’re implying,” Topher retorted. “It’s a more natural profile, and I’m hardly suggesting anyone ‘swing free,’ to use your words. A man’s preferred undergarments are easily accommodated by the—”

“Okay, okay,” Stella said. “Back to the subject. So you got all these other … irons in the fire, let’s just take you at your word that there’s a market for all these designs a yours, let’s say you got a income stream lined up there—so what’s one patent? Why get all heated up over it, especially when Benton gave you half of everything?”

“Because he gave up on the vision!” Topher exploded. His face went purple with rage and he was half out of his chair before Stella gave him a little reminder shove with her foot and waved the SIG in his line of sight. He lowered himself to the seat but remained agitated, twisting his hands in his lap. “Benton and I were out to change the entire men’s undergarment industry, it’s true, but it went further than that. We were going to change the way men see themselves. When we met, neither of us was successful with women. We kept getting turned down by women who didn’t have anything on us in the ways that truly matter—steady job, good values, goal oriented. Women only go for guys who
look
the part.”

“All women?”

“Well, the ones we wanted, anyway. The ones who took care of themselves.”

“Ah. The hot ones. Isn’t that always the way—an average guy wants to trade up, and if he gets shot down it’s
her
fault she can’t see his charms?”

“Well, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. We set out to change all that. See, both of us were a little overweight, and a woman had said something about it to Benton on a first date. Needless to say, there wasn’t any second date.”

“He got his feelings hurt.”

“We were working on an elastic fiber at work that they were going to use in industrial applications, but one day this gal at work picked up a piece of it and said it reminded her of what was in her minimizer bra. I took a couple of yards over to my mom and she measured me and sewed one up, and one for Benton. The first time we wore them out, I’m telling you the ladies couldn’t get enough.”

“So those were your magic ticket, is that right?” Stella doubted the women noticed any difference at all; if anything, they responded to an increase in confidence, even if it had come from something as ridiculous as a T-shirt. “If they were that great, how come you’re still single?”

Topher glowered. “It’s one
piece
of the whole
package
. I mean a guy’s still got to have resources, good grooming, conversation skills—but yes, a control undergarment can be a big first step. I was committed to making that journey with Benton, working our program, letting it all happen in good time. But he got impatient.”

“I see.” Stella thought she might be starting to understand the true picture. “So let me guess—when Benton started hunting for girls online, you saw it as him abandoning you?”

“He stopped wearing the ManTees!” Topher exclaimed. “One day he comes in to work, tells me he wants to bring this one girl over. Natalya. He’s never even laid eyes on her and he’s ready to marry her. By then he’d let himself go completely, right back the way he used to be.”

“So what you’re really saying is that he called off this bro-mance of yours and you got your feelings hurt.”

“
Bro
— No, that’s not—” Topher sputtered in rage.

“Come on, you even had the matching outfits. People said you guys were joined at the hip.”

“I’m
not
gay. Neither was Benton!”

“I never said it was a gay thing! You just had a special, special friendship. Women have them—no reason men can’t, too, so good for you. Just sometimes people move on, you know? What I want to know was, if Benton’s picking Natalya over you put you in such a murderous frame of mind, why did you wait so long to kill him?”

“I never planned to kill him! Not at first, anyway. I was his best man, for cripe’s sake! I bought them a damn
juicer
. But the minute he married her, everything changed. I had to listen to Benton go on about her at work all day, and then he was always running home right after. He was sure she was cheating on him.”

“Did he ever happen to mention that he was a little nuts on that subject? The crazy jealous thing?”

“I know, right? And she never even appreciated it!”

Stella tried to interject, to explain that it was hard to appreciate a man’s devotion when it took the form of being locked in one’s own home and forced to suffer screaming rages whenever one so much as looked the wrong direction in a restaurant, but Topher plowed on.

“Natalya, Natalya, Natalya, all day long. He brought her son over, did he tell you that? Even that wasn’t enough. Then he decides he needs more cash, like buying her shit’s going to make a difference. Makeup, jewelry, clothes. And the whole time he’s completely abandoned our fitness program, the walking club, the tanning salon.”

“So back to the murder part—”

“He came over about a month ago to tell me she’d left him, that Natalya had met this guy and was moving in with him. And get this, oh, this is rich, he wanted to know if I thought he could get away with killing the two of them.”

“Now there’s an idea,” Stella said dryly.

“I told him she wasn’t worth it, and he gets all bent out of shape. He tells me—he said—” The emotion threatening to burst forth from Topher had him tongue-tied.

“Deep breaths,” Stella urged. “Stay with me now.”

“He said that I could never understand true love. That it wasn’t about the way you look or, or, what you wear. He made fun of me, called me ‘fancyboy’—and told me I’d better never say anything against Natalya again. Well, I was just so angry, I, I … I said she was just a damn gold digger and he was a pathetic fool for falling for her. And so he—he
hit
me.”

Topher’s incredulity seemed as fresh as the day it had happened. Stella sighed. “You know what, it’s a shame I didn’t meet you before all of this.”

“Why’s that?”

“I know my way around violent men. I know what makes them tick. The thing you should have known is that abusers always go after the ones they love the best.”

Topher paled.

“Benton must’ve loved you, otherwise he would never have tried to hurt you. And then you went and killed him.” Stella gave him a sad smile. “See, I guess you just loved him more.”

Epilogue

“When’s Ian getting here?” Stella asked, as she doled out Popsicles to Tucker and his cousins Tater and Evvie. The sun was hot on the sprawling deck of the house Chester Senior had rented, overlooking the beautiful Lake of the Ozarks, for the Papadakis-Hardesty family reunion.

“Soon’s he gets off work,” Chrissy said, flashing Stella a can’t-wait grin. “I told ’im I bought a new bikini.”

Stella had already seen the swimsuit in question, a fire-engine red number that struck just the right balance between showing off Chrissy’s generous figure and keeping parts of it tantalizingly hidden. She’d bought it with the bonus Stella paid her after pawning the dead gangbanger’s earrings, which did not approach the fine quality sold by Hawthorn Jewelers but were worth a nice chunk of change nonetheless.

Chrissy had burst into the Paper Piecing Posse last week to show everyone the spoils of her day-off shopping spree, so Stella had also seen the red cork-wedge sandals, the flirty dotted sundress, and the watermelon-flavored edible body shimmer.

“Fourth of July just says ‘watermelon,’ don’t it?” Chrissy’d asked the giggly quilters, some of whom peered over their bifocals to get a good look at the tube of lotion.

In private she confided to Stella that it was more of a treat for Ian Sloat, the sheriff’s deputy she’d finally confessed to dating.

“Y’all
still
ain’t done it?” Stella had asked. It had taken Chrissy a while to make her peace with the idea of dating a lawman, given her checkered family history.

“After the fireworks, is what I’m thinkin’,” Chrissy said. “I’ve been holding out for something special.”

Stella had toyed with holding out for her own bit of sheriff’s-department special, and Goat had apologized all over the place for having to delay the promised birthday outing once again, but he had been called away to teach a firearms refresher up at the Regional Training Center in Independence. After tamping down her disappointment, Stella had invited BJ over for the family barbecue. She’d had the notion that the fireworks would sparkle a little brighter if she had a man’s hand to hold—and if between the flashes of silver and red lighting up the night sky she found herself wishing it was Goat’s large and sun-browned one, well, she could sort through all those feelings later, after she’d had her well-deserved bit of fun with a man who was actually available.

Tucker submitted to a smooch from his mama before chasing after his cousins to the little beach down the slope from the big rental house.

Gracellen came out of the house carrying a big tray of frosty glasses. “Look what Chess and BJ been up to! These here are called May Days and I ain’t got any idea what’s in ’em.”

“Well, I imagine it’s five o’clock somewhere,” Chrissy said, helping herself. “Now we got rid of the kids, we can get back to the game.”

Chester Senior was presiding over a spirited game of Monopoly. Out of deference to Chip’s gambling recovery, they’d left the poker chips in the closet; he and Natalya were playing as a team and had amassed a fortune in property already.

“Ooh, yum,” Chrissy added, after taking a sip. “Y’all coming?”

“Nah, I think me’n Gracie are gonna talk for a while.”

“Suit yourself,” Chrissy said and took the tray from Gracellen, padding off on her bare feet to join the little knot of partiers on the deck.

Stella led the way down the steps to a pair of beach chairs shaded by a big sun umbrella, and she and Gracie stretched out luxuriously. In the ankle-deep water off the muddy beach, Todd and Luke splashed and hollered with the little kids.

“Luke sure is good with kids,” Stella said, sighing contentedly. Since her disappointing finish in the Bean Blossom Half Marathon, she’d stepped up her training, and her muscles ached from yesterday’s punishing workout.

“Oh, you should see him with the kids in the neighborhood,” Gracie said. “Chester Senior’s sponsoring a U-10 soccer team this fall, and he’s got Chip and Luke running practices with the boys.”

“Does Chip have time for that?” Since starting on at the warehouse in June, Chip had been putting in long hours getting up to speed, while Natalya spent her days helping Luke and Gracie fix up Chester Senior’s place.

“They practice in the evening, after work. Nat and I take sandwiches over and cheer ’em on. It’s so nice, the way Chip and Chess are getting along.”

They enjoyed a contented silence for a while. Up above, they could hear the adults’ laughter; out on the lake a boat pulled a skier across the sparkling water. A mosquito buzzed by and landed on Stella’s arm, and she nailed it on the first try.

“Eww, Stellie,” Gracie said. “You got its blood all over you.”

“I ain’t afraid of a little blood. Better his than mine.”

Which was a fitting thought for a reunion with Chip and Natalya, Stella thought to herself. Topher had confessed to shooting the drug dealer who broke into his condo—a scenario that had taken considerable effort and coordination to set up, with Chip and Topher transporting the body to Topher’s place and calling the cops, and Natalya and Stella conducting a crime scene cleanup for the second time in a week in Chip’s kitchen.

Stella guaranteed Topher’s continuing cooperation by recording his confession to the other murder, that of Benton Parch. If all went well, the recording would stay hidden forever in Stella’s safety deposit box, but meanwhile the knowledge of its existence kept Topher meek and compliant. The ongoing investigation into his home-invasion case was keeping him busy, which Stella figured was just as well, since she doubted the world was ready for his man-enhancing inventions.

“So I have to ask,” Gracie said. “Are you
seeing
BJ, or, you know, just—seeing him?”

Stella blushed. “I don’t know, we go out now and then. He’s a lot of fun. I mean, sometimes we mess around a little, if we’re drinking or whatever. But I don’t think it’s going to be any big thing, you know?” She didn’t add that she still found his kisses to be a little mushy for her taste, or that it was still Goat who showed up in her dreams, usually in some state of partial department-issue uniform dress, and often suggesting she do something scandalous while he watched or, in her favorite dreams, participated.

“What about that sheriff of yours? You seen him lately?”

“Uh, well, we’re supposed to go out for my birthday.”

“Stellie, that was more than a month ago!”

“I know, I know. It’s just … well, we’ve been busy.” Plus there was the whole matter of Luke and his unofficial employment at the paint store and Chip and Natalya’s visit to pick him up on their way to California. Now all that had wound down, and there was still plenty of summer left for a fling. Or … whatever.

“Busy, huh.” Gracie’s tone said she didn’t believe it for a minute, but she seemed content to let it go.

Summer afternoons at the lake were like that, a time for letting things go, for taking it slow and reconnecting. The Papadakis-Hardesty clan had taken up residence in the big house for the week, and every day brought visitors, from Chrissy and her family to the Groffes and Noelle’s friends and Jelloman and his girlfriend. Noelle would be coming after work, and so would Ian, in time for the fireworks over the lake. Chester Senior had sprung for the house and everyone chipped in with the groceries, and already there was talk of making it an annual event.

“You know who I was thinking about today?” Gracie asked sleepily. “That dumb old cat. Sprinkles.”