Freezer I'll Shoot (A Vintage Kitchen Mystery) (22 page)

“Yeah, I know that Garnet has a temper, too. I saw him and Urban argue a few times. Old Urb hated that the Redmonds are better sailors than him. It wasn’t the boat, it wasn’t the sail, even though Urb always blamed the equipment. Fact is, I even got Urban to accuse Garnet of buying foreign-made sails. I gave Sherm the hint, knowing the old gossip would tell Urban and that my partner would go after Garnet. I laughed when I heard about the fight at the Ice House!” He chuckled. “Urban always had an excuse, but the truth was, he was just crap at sailing. He had no feel for the water or the wind. His boy could captain the boat better than him, but he kept that kid scared to death.” He gave Jaymie a sly look, while he circled the room, locking windows.

Her stomach wrung itself into a knot. This was not going well so far. Her mind churned furiously, as she tried to figure out how to convince him she did not suspect him of the killing. “I always—” Her voice choked off. Darn. She cleared her throat and hugged Hoppy to her, inhaling his doggie scent. “I always wondered if Sammy had anything to do with his father’s death. You know, it’s so good to be able to talk to someone about this,” she said, sidling back toward the door. “I can’t figure it out. Who do you think did it, Will?”

“But you’ve been snooping around, little Miss Nancy Marple. And Ruby . . . Now, if she’d
died
, folks may have thought she killed Urban. Some people whispered they were having an affair.”

It was odd, this conversation, as if he were searching for someone to blame, but even though she had offered him up a couple of likely suspects, he kept probing. “I’m so glad she
didn’t
die,” Jaymie said. “I like them both. But Garnet, now . . . Maybe
he
killed Urban.”

He watched her. “Maybe. You know, Ruby and Garnet, they’re not who they seem.”

She swallowed. “What do you mean?” Her gaze flicked away, toward the door. It was close. Real close.

“I mean, they aren’t really Ruby and Garnet Redmond.”

“Who are they, then?” She paused, interested, in spite of her situation, in what he knew and how he knew it. When he didn’t answer, she said, “Look, Will, I’d love to chat some more, but I have to go. I really do.” She turned and moved quickly toward the door, reaching out for the dead bolt.

“Stop,
now
! You’re not fooling me for one second,” Will said, leaping across the room and shoving her out of the way. Hoppy fell to the floor with a wild yip of fear. He skittered under the desk and barked. “Shut up, mutt!” the man yelled. He lunged to a battered wooden desk, yanked open a drawer, pulled out a gun and waved it around, as pens and paper clips clattered to the tile floor. “Shut that goddamn dog up, or I’ll do it for him!”

“Hoppy, quiet!
Now!
” Jaymie said, in her firm, no-nonsense tone. The little dog calmed, but growled and grumbled, ducking his head and watching Will from under the desk. There was no avoiding it now. Will had taken a step that proved he was not willing to let her go easily. But what did he plan to do next? She glanced at the open drawer and recognized the bag Ruby had been carrying the night before.

“What gives, Will?” she said, her voice throaty with fear, but not quavering.

He rummaged around in his desk, still, while waving the gun at her vaguely. He seemed disturbed, and mumbled, “Why can’t women just leave well enough alone? Never met a woman who could just . . . What is it? Am I difficult? I don’t think so. Not
me
.” He pounced on something and said, “Aha!” It was a pad of paper with what looked like a list on it.

“I hate dogs,” he said, squinting his eyes at Hoppy, who growled and bared his teeth from under the desk. He waved the gun at the dog, and Hoppy barked.

“Please, Will, don’t!” Jaymie said, her voice now trembling with fear and anxiety. “Don’t hurt Hoppy. He’s just scared. You’ve frightened him!”

“Oh, it’s all
my
fault, right? That’s what my wife always said.
‘Will, don’t shout! Will, don’t be so angry. Will, you’re hurting me!’
” He mimicked a woman’s voice with a savage, sarcastic falsetto. “Well, she pushed me over the edge and now she’s paying.”

Jaymie’s breath started coming in quick huffs of air. Paying? How was she paying? Did she dare ask? “What do you mean?” She swallowed, her throat dry and a lump clogging it.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he sneered. “Just like all those stupid cop movies; you keep me talking, I spill the beans, and you cleverly figure a way out, right? But no, you and I are going to take a little walk, and you’re going to do something drastic. You’ve been involved in all these murder crimes lately. Little Miss Nosy. Well, now you’re going to go over the edge and commit one yourself. Gonna go
crazy
!” he yelled, waving his hands around in the air.

Hoppy barked frantically, then retreated and growled up at Will from under the desk. Jaymie’s stomach roiled, and she felt light-headed.

“That time of month, right?” Will said, pacing, his face getting red and sweat popping out in beads on his forehead. The sweat gleamed faintly in the sickly light of the overhead fluorescent lights. “Gonna get your crazy bitch hat on and come to my home and start to accuse me of doing things.” He shot Jaymie a crafty look. “Then you’re going to shoot my wife, and I’m gonna have to kill you, and explain it all to the cops. Self-defense! You’re a nut job, while I’m calm, cheerful, never-hurt-anyone Will. It was
you
all along.”

“Me?” she yelped. “They’re never going to believe that! Why would
I
have killed Urban?”

“You’ve been under a lot of stress lately, with that family of Daniel’s,” he said, eyeing her. “And dead bodies everywhere lately, right? Sent you over the edge.”

She knew right then that he was working out a story in his head, some explanation that he thought might work. But she latched on to something he had said earlier. “What’s wrong with your wife? Is she . . . Is she dead?”

“Not yet,” he said. “Didn’t I just say that you were going to kill her?”

“No one would
ever
believe I would kill someone.”

He looked conflicted, unsure. “Isn’t that what the relatives always say in the paper, though? ‘She was such a nice girl, never a day of trouble in her whole life.’”

“You know deep in your heart that it won’t work. No one is ever going to believe that I killed Urban, and it’s even more impossible that anyone would think I’d kill your wife, especially with a gun!” she said quickly. She could see the doubt etched on his forehead, and continued. “You’ll end up in prison for a triple homicide. If you turn yourself in now, you’ve got dozens of witnesses who would say what a despicable character Urban Dobrinskie was. You probably won’t even be arrested for his murder! Call it self-defense. He came at you; you had to stab him. I won’t say a thing. He was a nothing, a jerk, someone who bullied his son and wife so much they were afraid of him. And he was cheating on his wife, right? Everyone says so. In fact, don’t say anything at all!
Anyone
could have killed him.”

He sat down, tears coming to his eyes. “I can’t stop now. My wife . . .”

“She’s still alive,” Jaymie said. “If you let her go now, she might file charges, but you’ve never done anything wrong. You’ll get off with a suspended sentence, and your life can just go on.”

He shook his head, his expression one of a lost soul, someone who doesn’t understand how they got where they are. “I have to do this. My wife knows I killed Urban, and she’s going to go to the police.”

“You don’t
have
to do anything, Will. Let things play out. Or you could just leave on the ferry tonight, and be out of the state . . . out of the
country
before anyone knows you’re gone.”

His face twisted into anger. “You’d all just love that, wouldn’t you? Convenient for my wife, convenient for you, convenient for the cops! Well, I won’t make it easy for anyone.”

She’d set him off. Damn! He paced, and grumbled, while Hoppy growled at him from under the desk. “Calm down, Will, it’s okay!” she said.

He turned, slowly, his expression thunderous. “Don’t
ever
tell me to calm down!”

Oops. “Okay, Will, calm . . . Uh, it’s okay!”

“No, it’s
not
okay. We’re getting out of here and I’m getting this show on the road. I’ve made up my mind.”

It was dark out. What time was it? How long had she been in the office? The last ferry ran at ten o’clock, and if it arrived, she could maybe get someone’s attention, if the timing was just right. He glanced up over her head, and waved the gun at her.

“You sit right where you are,” he said, “and don’t make a sound. You make any noise and I’ll pop you.” He flicked the light off.

What was going on? All she could hear in the dark silence was her own heart pounding. Then she got it; he had been looking at the clock. She could hear the jolly toot that meant the last ferry was disembarking at the dock. Voices floated on the night air, cheerful shouts of “Night, Spence” to the ferry operator. Then the thrum of the ferry motor as it chugged away to the Canadian side, Johnsonville. Her last hope was gone.

A few minutes later, Will flicked the light back on. “And now we’re going to put my little plan into action. I’ll tell you how it’s going to go. You are going to hold on to the leash of that little monster, and we’re going to walk to my house. You’re going to be slightly ahead of me, and this little number,” he said, caressing the short stock of his gun, “will be in your back. Move, and I’ll shoot. I don’t have much to lose now, so you can bet I’ll do it. March!” he said.

“I don’t know the way to your house,” she said, rising, grabbing Hoppy’s leash, and moving toward the door.

“Just start; I’ll tell you.”

“But what if we meet someone we know?”

He paused. She shouldn’t have said anything. He might just put her back in the office and tie her up until later that night. Darn it! But he was too antsy to wait. “We won’t meet anyone. It’s too late and too early.”

She knew what he meant. Folks who walked down by the river to walk their dogs or watch the sunset would be gone, and those who would go for a walk to cool off and sober up from the bar wouldn’t be out yet. She complied with his directions to head out, toward the cement steps that threaded up through a wooded glade to a lonely spot on the dirt road that circled the island. He and his wife lived in a winterized cottage at the end of the road, just beyond the top of the steps, he told her. It had to be the lonely cottage she had often seen from the ferry, the one perched atop the highest point on the island.

As she mounted the dark steps, slowly because of her uncertainty, her heart pounded. There was one yellowy light about halfway up, and she climbed toward it, worrying that she was going to feel a bullet in her back. What would it feel like? Would it hurt, or would it be like a pinprick, and then nothing? But she couldn’t focus on dying; she had to focus on living. As they reached the landing halfway up, Hoppy whined.

“What’s wrong with that mutt?” Will muttered.

“He’s tired. He’s only got three legs, Will. I’ll have to carry him, at least up the steps.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said. “But hurry up about it!”

She bent over to pick up Hoppy, and looked backward down the dizzying stretch of steps, lined by an old wrought iron railing on one side. How could she use the stairs to her advantage? Did she dare take a chance? It was an awful risk, but Will was behind her; if she could give him a shove backward without losing her own balance, then he would tumble all the way down to the bottom, maybe knock himself out.

“Get moving!” he yelled, and she felt the gun barrel nudge her backbone.

If she dithered about it forever, she’d lose her chance. She began to mount, step by step. Thirty or so steps to the top. When should she do it? When she was near the top, she decided, so she could push him down the stairs, and jump up the last couple of steps. Her heart was pounding, not just from fear, but from the long stairs climb. She could hear Will panting behind her, too. He was as out of shape as she was, it seemed, neither one of them good at such a long flight of stairs.

“So you killed Urban. You must have planned it carefully,” she said, “to have thought of stealing the wheelbarrow the night before from my backyard.”

“Clever, right? I was gonna bury Urban in your leaching bed. I figured you’d all be asleep, but no, you and your damned dog had to be awake, and up. Had to change plans quick. That’s why I tried to make it seem like Garnet was the one shouting.”

She didn’t say that that was the one thing that made no sense to her; why, if he was intending to point the crime at Garnet, did he fake the man shouting, “Get off my property”?

“Not only that; I got you to hare off in all different directions!” he chuckled. “Told you Garnet was badgering me to buy the Dobrinskie half of the marina. Hah! I’m the one who offered it to him, then told him no way. Knew he’d make a fuss, but man, it was timed perfectly! Made him look like a hothead, right in front of you. I was just hoping
someone
would hear him threaten me, like I knew he would.”

Jaymie thought back to many instances when Will had subtly pointed her in different directions: he had defended Urb’s character, making it seem like he didn’t have a beef with the guy, and he had subtly pointed out Garnet’s temper, then implicated him in Ruby’s near drowning. She had been manipulated, and it made her mad. “I’m out of breath; I’ve got to stop for a second!”

He didn’t object, and she could hear his breath coming raggedly.

“Why Ruby, though?” Jaymie asked. “Why did you try to kill Ruby? And how did you get her note?”

“She trusted me, and told me she was leaving. Thought someone from her past was after her, or some such nonsense. You know, I always thought there was something fishy about those two; that’s why I threatened them, the night I did old Urb in. I had them both running around like chickens with their heads cut off! Made sure Garnet was out of the restaurant a good long time. He stood down on that dock waiting for his mystery caller, the one who never arrived on the ferry.” He chuckled.