Divas Do Tell (43 page)

“But why involve her? She didn’t do anything to you. Billy Joe was cruel to your mother and abandoned both of you. I can understand that. But Abby—I assume she saw something, and you killed her. Apparently Buck suspected you so he had to die—why Mira? She’s innocent. So are we. You have no reason to kill any of us.”

Sandra lifted her shoulders in another shrug, but the gun barrel never wavered from us. “Abby saw me that day. I was so careful with my disguise—a blond wig, man’s trench coat, and this gun. Apparently it was those damn boots I wore. I never thought anyone would recognize them. I never intended to hurt either of you. It was going to be just me and Mira out here, but you both know too much, so you’re necessary collateral damage.”

A light went on for me. “So that’s what Mrs. Whitworth remembered? How did you find out that your cowboy boots were recognized?”

“I ran into her in the grocery store when I went in to buy Moon Pies and an RC Cola. My mother used to say how much she missed them, that the ones in Chicago just weren’t the same, so I decided to taste them for myself.”

“Your mother is Susana Jones.”

After a brief hesitation, Sandra nodded. “Yes. That was her maiden name. She married my father after I was born. I never knew until a few years ago when I was going through some of her things after she died. That’s when I found out about Billy Joe. She’d saved some letters, a picture of him and her together, and my first birth certificate. She’d put his name on as father.”

Bitty pulled tightly on the rope around my wrists, then tugged at the knot. “There,” she said. “She’s tied.”

“Come here,” Sandra said to me, and when I walked the few steps to her, she turned me around and tested the knot herself. “It’s tight enough. Now, come and tie up Mira.”

Bitty was spitting mad. I saw it in her eyes. Normally that would be a cause for alarm. Now it was rather heartening. When Bitty’s mad, she’s often at her most articulate and creative. Since I couldn’t see how we were going to get out of this situation, I hoped she’d find a way.

“At the risk of sounding like a bad movie,” she said as she knelt next to the unconscious Mira, “you’ll never get away with this.”

“Lord, that does sound like a bad movie.” Sandra laughed. “I do hate doing this to you and Trinket, Bitty, but y’all left me no choice. Bruce told me that he’d mentioned to you about my family being from Holly Springs. I knew it was only a matter of time before one of you said something or connected the dots. You do see, don’t you, that it has to be this way?”

“No. I don’t.” Bitty jerked at the rope around Mira’s wrists. “You’re a sociopath. You have no conscience at all.”

Sandra sighed. “Well, I suppose understanding was too much to hope for, but it is what it is.”

Bitty glanced up at her. “Damn right it is what it is! And I can promise you this: that you will always have to look over your shoulder if you kill us. Not only the police but Jackson Lee will come after you with everything they have. You’ll always wonder—did they finally get enough evidence? Were they able to find the proof needed for an arrest? Did I make a mistake?”

“I have no intention of making a mistake,” Sandra said sharply. “I’ve thought all this through quite carefully.”

“Apparently you’re not as careful as you like to think, or you wouldn’t have left witnesses to your visit when you killed Billy Joe,” I pointed out.

Sandra jerked her gun. “That stupid Abby thought she could make me sweat before she went to the police. Idiot. She should have been doing her job that day instead of sneaking off to meet Simon. Then she wouldn’t have seen me walking up the street to Billy Joe’s house. I don’t know how she made the connection, but she did.”

“And Buck? How did he find out?”

“He heard me and Abby arguing that day at Montrose. I thought everyone had gone, but then one of the key grips, Jason or Josh or something like that, came back for his stuff. After he left I confronted Abby in the bathroom. I suppose that’s what Buck heard, us yelling at each other. She just wouldn’t listen to me . . . I tried to tell her she’d made a mistake, but she laughed and said she could recognize a snake when she saw one, and that she was going to the police. So I hit her with a bat that was leaned up against the wall. She stopped laughing then.”

“I imagine she did,” I said after a moment of shocked silence at her matter-of-fact recital of the heinous crime.

I was aware of Bitty kneeling beside Mira, saw her left hand move toward our coats and purses in the chair where Sandra had put them, and my heart skipped a beat. If I could only keep Sandra talking maybe Bitty could reach her purse and pistol.

“Did you know Abby was still alive when you left her on the bathroom floor to bleed to death?” I asked. “She crawled toward the door trying to get out.”

“Yes, I heard that. If she’d just listened to me she wouldn’t have suffered. I can’t be held responsible for her stupidity.”

Amazed by her callous indifference, I still managed to say calmly, “But you can be held responsible for her death. What about Dixie Lee? Does she know what you’ve done?”

Sandra shook her head. “That’s a stupid question. If she knew anything she’d be here too.”

“So we’re the last people you’re going to murder? I doubt that. You can’t kill everyone who might suspect you. Is that why you came to Holly Springs, to murder Billy Joe?”

“Partially. After I read the script I knew I had to play the part of Darcy Denton. It was made for me. It was a way to honor my mother for all the wrongs done to her when she was so young.”

“And killing Billy Joe and two other people—how does that honor your mother?”

Sandra’s eyes flashed fire at me. “He seduced her, got her pregnant, then abandoned her, and the entire town stood by and did nothing! He deserved what he got. When he went for his pistol I was just a little faster. That’s when I got the idea for a suicide. I made him give me his gun, and he knew, right before I pulled the trigger, that in a way it was Susana killing him for what he’d done. The fool. He begged for his life, even peed his pants when he saw it wasn’t going to do him any good. I think she’d like that.”

“Do you? Somehow, I think Susana would be appalled at what you’ve done. From what I heard she was a sweet, caring girl. Yes, she was foolish in believing Billy Joe, but she paid for that mistake. You, however, you were brought up in a loving home. Even Darcy Denton would be horrified by what you’ve become. She tried to save you. Instead, you’ve become a monster.”

When Sandra sucked in a deep breath I knew I’d gone too far. I don’t know what she might have done if Bitty hadn’t managed to get to her purse and the pistol. Sandra turned just as she pulled out the forty-five, and they both fired at the same time. The percussion deafened me for a moment, and I hit the ground on my knees, terrified and hopeful.

Two more shots blasted the air, and I cringed. Then Sandra kicked Bitty’s arm, and the pistol went flying through the air and landed in front of the fireplace. Bitty scrambled after it, but Sandra was quicker and got to it before she could. She snatched it up, then hit Bitty in the head with the butt. When Bitty slumped to the floor I screamed.

Sandra whirled around, breathing hard, her lips drawn back in some kind of wild snarl as she glared at me. “Damn you both! You’ve ruined my plan . . . I have to think. Dammit. All these bullet holes everywhere and two guns instead of one . . . okay. I know what to do. Stay where you are, or so help me I’ll shoot you in both knees.”

I stared helplessly at Bitty. She looked lifeless, draped half over the hearth where she’d lunged toward her gun. Blood dripped from her head to the hearth rug. It was too soon after her last injury, and I feared this one might have severely damaged her if it didn’t kill her. Not that it would matter if Sandra got her way. She obviously had a scene worked out where she would be the innocent victim and Mira the killer. We were to be bystanders, I imagine. I watched her drag Mira toward the couches, then kneel down and press her pistol into her hand, wrapping her fingers around the handle. That was when I noticed she’d put on gloves and was having trouble getting it done just as she wanted.

Mira’s fingerprints would be found on the pistol that was meant to kill us, I figured. How did she intend to explain the gun battle? There had to be bullets lodged in the walls, and police forensics were very sophisticated and would be able to tell who had fired what shot from what angle. But maybe Sandra didn’t know that.

Then Sandra said, “You’re going to have to die trying to escape. The police will be able to tell there were several shots fired and from what position. There weren’t supposed to be two guns. I needed Mira to be killed with this gun, my self-defense after she killed both of you. I was supposed to take it away from her and be a heroine! It just won’t make sense if there are two guns. Dammit, I had it all worked out. Never mind. This will just have to do. Get up. We’re going for a car ride.”

I looked outside. Shadows had grown longer, and the lake looked dark. A slight mist hung over it. I was in no hurry to get in a car with a deranged killer. But then, staying where we were wasn’t a much better option.

Since my arms were tied behind my back I couldn’t manage to get up on my own, and Sandra had to pull me to my feet. By that time Bitty was awake and groggy. She put her hand up to her head and winced when she touched her bloody wound. Then she looked up at Sandra.

“You crazy bitch,” she muttered. “Give me back my gun.”

“Oh, I intend to, but not quite the way you imagine. Stand up and walk in front of me, very slowly. If you make a run for it, I’ll shoot Trinket. Keep that in mind.”

Bitty got to her feet, then glanced down at Mira, still lying on the floor with her hands tied. “Don’t worry about her,” Sandra snapped. “With what I gave her she’ll be out for a while. Now go on. Leave your coats and purses. People escaping wouldn’t stop to grab their coats.”

“This is foolish,” I said as we reached Bitty’s car. “The police will never believe we went off and left you at the mercy of a killer.”

“Perhaps not, but they will believe me when I tell them I told you to run and bring help.”

“I wouldn’t count on that,” Bitty muttered.

Sandra shoved the barrel of Bitty’s own gun in her back, hard enough I heard it make a thud against her shoulder. “If you’d done what you were supposed to do none of this would be necessary. Now walk faster. Get behind the wheel. Trinket, you sit in the front passenger seat. I will sit in the back seat with the gun on both of you, so no funny tricks. Fasten Trinket’s seatbelt and then fasten your own. Tightly, please.”

Muttering under her breath, Bitty did as instructed. When Sandra handed her the car keys she started the Beemer. It roared smoothly to life, and she slowly backed it out of the driveway. Apparently Sandra hadn’t shut the gates after Mira arrived, because the gates were already open when we got to the top of the driveway. I had no idea what she intended, and that made me almost as nervous as the gun she kept pointed at us.

With Sandra directing, Bitty drove the narrow roads that went down and around the steep hills. Dark shadows covered the ground in the forest and stretched across the road in places as we went around sharp turns. Asphalt gave way to gravel on the road. Finally Sandra had Bitty stop the car and hand her the keys.

“This looks like a good place,” she said. “Sit right where you are while I check it out.”

Keeping the gun trained in our direction, she had me open the door so she could step out. She peered just beyond the front of the car and then turned back to us. “It’s perfect. I really do hate that it has to end this way, but you understand I can’t take the risk of letting y’all go. It’s too bad. I really enjoyed your Diva meetings.”

My gaze followed Bitty’s past the hood of the car. We were on a high ridge overlooking the lake. Thick brush, tall trees, and red gravel surrounded us on three sides. It was a straight drop to the lake below.

My heart beat in triple time, and my stomach was tied in knots as tight as the rope around my wrists. I strained against them, but all I managed was to burn the ropes tighter into my skin. I sat helplessly as she walked to the driver side of the car, leaned in and smacked Bitty in the head with the gun again. Bitty slumped sideways with only a small “Oh!”

Suddenly I knew what she intended, and there was nothing I could do to stop her or save us. I sucked in a deep breath as she walked to my side of the car. I looked directly into Sandra’s eyes.

“You will pay for this,” I said. “Whether in this life or the next, you’re going to pay this debt.”

Sandra looked amused. “I never figured you for a church-going girl.”

“It really doesn’t matter what you think. One day you’ll remember what I said.”

“Maybe. But you won’t be here to know about it. Now hold still, and I’ll make this as quick as possible. I’ve been told drowning isn’t a bad death, but it’s easier if you’re unconscious. Just relax and look away.”

I shook my head. “No. If you’re going to kill me, it’ll have to be when I’m looking at you. I won’t make this easy for you.”

Shrugging, Sandra said, “Have it your way,” and I braced myself as she brought the butt of the gun down on my head. Bursts of light exploded behind my eyes, and everything went dark.

SOMETHING COLD shocked me into consciousness, and I gasped as my eyes opened. Water lapped at my chest, dark and cold and taking my breath away. I tried to move but couldn’t. My hands were free, but I was belted into the seat as the car slowly sank into the lake. Sandra had chosen a deserted part of the lake where no one lived, a gravel road back away from houses and traffic. We weren’t likely to be found before the car sank completely beneath the surface. I struggled frantically against the constraints.