Motion for Malice (28 page)

"That one," Deirdre said, pointing.

"Take that one back," I told him. "She doesn't like square cut diamonds."

"Can I try it on?" Deirdre was practically panting.

Wally pushed it over to her. She snatched it up, slipped it on her little finger, and waggled her hand back and forth, admiring it. Suddenly she froze, her head cocked to the side. "Do I hear the tow truck outside?"

I hadn't heard a thing, and I doubted she had, either, but Wally leaped up like a bronchitis-riddled marionette. "I'll need that ring back," he told Deirdre.

The gun materialized in her hand. Pointed at him. "I don't think so."

His eyes went wide. "Are you…? Is that…?" And then they rolled up in his head and he crashed to the floor, passed out cold.

Deirdre leaned over to look at him. "What a wuss."

"That wuss will sue you for every penny you've got if he has even an egg on his head," I told her. "That includes the cash squirreled away in the floorboards at Destinies with Dorcas."

She stared at me. "How did you know about that?"

I did a
doesn't matter
wave. "I'm telling you, he's a shark. You'd better revive him before he starts dreaming about charges for terroristic threats."

"I never even touched him," she said sulkily, but she dragged herself out of her chair and knelt down on the floor beside Wally's prone form. "He is kind of cute," she said. "For a wuss. Maybe I won't kill him."

Oh boy. Not what I wanted to hear. Although if she was going to kill someone, I would just as soon it wasn't me. "He's a real catch," I told her. "He's loaded. He can make up for what Dorcas cost you."

A trickle of drool was snaking from the corner of his mouth. And hers.

She scooched closer and stared down at him. "What am I supposed to do?"

"I'll get you an ice pack," I said. "Hold it on his forehead and slap his cheeks. Lightly. You don't want him charging you with assault." I opened the freezer door, and there he was, in full frozen glory. Elmer. I lifted him up, balancing his heft in both hands, spun on my heel and slammed him into Deirdre's skull. The sound of frozen turkey meeting head was the best thing I'd ever created in a kitchen, but the irony was lost on Deirdre, because a second later she was sprawled unconscious on top of Wally, and I was calling 9-1-1.

*   *   *

Ashley finally came out of hiding after the police had hustled Deirdre away. She sat in the middle of my coffee table, serenely licking her private parts. Maizy sat in the recliner. She'd rushed over in Honest Aaron's Valiant after hearing the call go out over the police scanner. Wally and I were on the sofa. He held an ice pack to his forehead. I'd put Elmer back in the freezer where he belonged. After he'd saved my life, I really didn't want to roast him. I'd grown attached to that turkey.

"Deirdre was so
bland,"
Maizy said, looking stunned. "But she orchestrated the whole scheme."

"You can never tell about people," Wally said. "Look at me. You'd never guess I was the sexually voracious stud that I am." He moved the ice a millimeter and winced.

"We suspected everyone but her," I agreed. "We never even considered her. She was just sort of
there
, helping Weaver. She even picked Seaver up at the train station and let him use her SUV while he was here. She hid in plain sight."

"I told you no one sees old people," Maizy said with a shrug.

I sighed. "Deirdre Higby isn't old, Maize. She's in her upper forties."

Maizy blinked. "That's what I said."

That was an argument I couldn't win. "Artemis Angle must have honestly cared for Dorcas and tried to help her by investing in her kiosks."

"I hear the Society of Seers has officially folded," Maizy said. "So now I guess he's a mechanic again."

I had to find out where. I wouldn't mind Future Curt working on the Escort, now that I knew he'd killed only his own business.

"And Tippi McWirth actually has an Aunt Pittypat," Maizy said, "who really did break her hip. At least that's what her medical records say."

I frowned and did a slight
Not in front of Wally
headshake.

"She's healing just fine," Maizy added brightly. "Three more weeks of rehab and she'll be as good as new. Although she's got to get that cholesterol under control."

Wally's forehead puckered. "How…?"

"I can't blame Tippi for losing it a little," I said quickly. "Dorcas raided her bank account and her marriage. It's a wonder she didn't throw open the casket to be sure Dorcas was dead."

"Guess that means Seaver really was looking out for his brother," Maizy said. "Wonder what they did with all that money he took from the studio."

"Money?" Wally asked hopefully.

"Hopefully they took it to Atlantic City," I said. "Anything as long as Deirdre didn't wind up with it. You know, Seaver didn't like her from the start. He might not have a great personality, but he's got good instincts."

Maizy nodded. "And then there's Roger Marrin."
Wally's eyes were wide, listening to us. The ice was sitting on his lap now.

"My dad said the cops questioned everyone who'd been at the funeral. They were told there were two suspicious old ladies who disappeared before the service was over, but they weren't able to find them." She grinned. I felt my cheeks go warm and turned away from Wally so he couldn't see my face. "Turns out Roger was looking for a hookup," she said. "With Weaver Beeber. He admitted he'd seen Weaver a few times at the Shop 'n Save but couldn't work up the nerve to talk to him. He thought he might be able to at the funeral, but turns out fashion's not the only thing he's bad at."

"But those pictures," I said with a shiver. They still creeped me out.

"What pictures?" Wally asked.

Maizy nodded. "Those pictures are evidence in Roger's stalking case now."

Geez. Roger Marrin really didn't have much going for him. "Should I feel bad that I stole his cat?" I asked.

"I didn't hear that," Wally said.

We watched Ashley for a moment. She was sitting sphinx-like on the table, her eyes closed. Her fur was looking glossier, and her sides were looking plumper.

"Forget I asked," I said.

"He didn't want her anyway," Maizy said. "It was his mom's cat to begin with, and he's allergic to her. That's probably why he didn't try too hard to get her back."

I stared at her. "How in the world would you know that?"

She shrugged. "Lucky guess. And a bottle of allergy pills in his bathroom."

"I didn't hear that, either," Wally said. "I don't know what you two are talking about, and don't ever tell me." He put his ice pack on the coffee table. Ashley opened her eyes to assess its food potential. "Do me a favor," he said to me. "When you talk about this to your sister, would you tell her that I smacked that woman over the head? It'll make me look good."

"She'll be impressed," I told him. "Do you have your rings back?"

He patted his pocket. "But I may hold off on the proposal for a while."

I blinked. "Really? Why?"

He seemed a little embarrassed. "I'm thinking she should
want
to be with me first."

That bump on the head had knocked some sense into him. "I think that's a good idea," I said gently. "She'll come around eventually." Frankie Ritter wasn't going to stay out of jail forever.

"Yeah." He thought about that while he put the ice back on his head. "You know, the rings weren't the only reason I came over tonight."

"No?"

"Business is booming again." He smiled. "There are a lot of ghouls showing up because of your notoriety. Some of them actually have cases."

I sat back, stunned. Ashley saw an opportunity and jumped onto my lap, nudging my hand with her head. I stroked her fur absently, thankful that she'd avoided contact with Deirdre. It was as if she'd sensed evil coming through the door. Too bad she hadn't scratched it. "What are you saying, Wally?"

"Howard wants you back," Wally said. "You mean big bucks, and he wants to keep the cash flowing."

"He wants me back?" But he'd told me I was poison to the firm's good name. He'd fired me even before an arrest, let alone a conviction. If I was big bucks to Parker, Dennis, maybe I could be big bucks to another firm, one with better pay and better treatment of employees.

Wally nodded. "He wants to promote you to First Executive Assistant."

First Executive Assistant! That sounded impressive, all right, but what did it really mean?

"That title comes with an extra hundred bucks a month," Wally added.

It meant I had my job back.

Candlelight flickered off the white linen tablecloth and danced across the crystal wine glasses, filled with beer for Curt, almond milk for me. Curt looked positively edible in black jeans and a black T-shirt. His hair was mussed. His stubble was a dark shadow along his jawline. Sinatra crooned plaintively in the background, "I'm a Fool to Want You."
Outside it was snowing heavily, with a forecast of almost a foot of accumulation and dire warnings to stay inside, off the roads. I was good with that.

Our eyes met and held over the open pizza box.

"More?" Curt asked.

I nodded. "Yes, please." I sounded out of breath. I
was
out of breath. This night was an unexpected and delicious assault on the senses. "Thank you for inviting us to dinner," I added. "Sorry that turkey thing didn't work out."

He slid a second fat slice of Sicilian pizza onto my plate. "Yeah, about that. You know you can't keep Elmer up there forever."

"I know." I bit into the crusty corner. "But he saved Wally's life. He saved
my
life."

"Wally, huh." Curt shook his head. "I've got to thank him for showing up unannounced. And tell him never to do it again."

"I doubt that'll be a problem," I said. "He and Sherri are kind of back together. She thought it was sexy for him to fight back in the face of certain death."

Curt's dimple flashed. "You ever gonna tell her?"

I smiled. "And risk the return of Frankie Ritter? I don't think so."

"Yeah. That's the way I feel about Maizy and that decrepit Valiant her friend Brody Amherst drove her over here in."

I shook my head. "Brody Amherst didn't—"

"I know," Curt said gently.

My pulse did a funny little skip. "You ever gonna tell her?"

"What's the point?" he said. "She was worried about you. I can't fault her for that." He looked at me over the flame. In the daylight, Curt was something to see. In the candlelight, he was a god. "I'm sorry I wasn't here. I should have been here."

"You're here now," I said.

We ate in silence for a few minutes. Ashley sat at my feet, avidly watching every move I made. I peeled off a piece of cheese and offered it to her. She sniffed it and gave me a look of utter disdain before getting up and walking away. That'd be the last time
she
got invited to dinner.

"So, first executive assistant," Curt said. "You going back?"

I shrugged. Truth was, I'd already gone back. And started with a week's vacation. Paid. "It's a job," I said. And pride was an overrated thing.

"If you say so." Curt ate some more pizza. "So word is Deirdre confessed to killing her sister." I watched him run a napkin across his lips. Lucky napkin.

Get a grip, girl!
I forced myself to take another bite. A tiny bite, because I wasn't sure I could swallow. "Heat of the moment, right?" I asked. "She said they had an argument."

"The last of many, evidently. But yes, she's claiming it wasn't premeditated. And Cam said she has no criminal record."

I remembered her bragging about being the brains of the operation. "She should," I muttered. Something occurred to me. "Whatever happened to Seaver? Did he actually go back to New York?"

"He took the train to Hackensack," Curt said. I frowned, uncomprehending. "He visited friends for a few days on the way home."

That was good to know. It didn't make me like Seaver any better, but Weaver was going to need more emotional support when his sister-in-law came up for trial. It wasn't going to be easy for him. I wondered if Artemis Angle would be in attendance when it began. I still didn't know about the Bahamian travel plans, but some things were not for me to know. Like why Tippi McWirth would possibly have wanted to attend Dorcas's graveside service.

As for Roger Marrin…

I glanced around for Ashley. She was nowhere in sight. Probably curled up on Curt's bed sound asleep. She'd taken to Curt immediately, and the feeling seemed mutual. Since her arrival, I hadn't seen any
Missing Cat
signs posted on telephone poles, or classifieds in the paper hoping to find her. Of course, I wasn't reading the paper much these days, and thanks to Maizy, now I knew why I hadn't seen those things. Roger Marrin had bigger problems than a runaway cat. Maizy had sent me a text that he'd been fired from the Shop 'n Save after being arrested trying somehow to steal wood paneling from a home improvement store. Guess Mama Marrin hadn't approved of his paint selections after all.

I blew out a sigh. Maizy and I had come to several forks in the wood and had consistently taken the road most traveled. That should teach us a lesson next time.

Wait. There wasn't going to be a next time. I wasn't going to do this again. I couldn't take the stress of being a murder suspect.

"You know," Curt said, "you were never a viable suspect."

"Oh really." I stared at him. "Is that why the police ransacked my apartment and interrogated me, because I wasn't a suspect?"

He grinned. "Ransacked and interrogated?"

My mouth twisted. "Okay, picked up my laptop and asked me a few questions." I paused. "At least they could have clued me in," I added with a touch of bitterness.

"Yeah, that's how the police operate," Curt said. "They catch all kinds of criminals that way."

I scowled at him.

"Cam said Brad Bensinger knew all along someone was trying to frame you," Curt said. "As soon as he saw you, he knew you weren't lying about being unable to lift that crystal ball."