Tempest in the Tea Leaves (29 page)

I turned toward my bed and blinked. Morty had appeared out of nowhere as usual. He sat on top of my suitcase like he didn’t want me to go. I picked him up and deposited him on the bed.

“I’ll be back. I promise.” I petted him behind the ears and then picked up my suitcase and headed for the stairs.

Morty jumped in front of me and hissed.

“What is with you?” I nudged him out of the way, and he scratched me with his paw. “Ow!” I rubbed my hand. He’d drawn blood. “Naughty boy. Why’d you do that?”

He licked his lip and kept staring at me, the hair on his back raised. He really didn’t want me to go out the door, but I didn’t have time to figure out why.

“I’m sorry, Morty. I’m not abandoning you. I have to go away for a little while, but I will be back. You have my word on that.” I hoisted my suitcase and kept moving. When I got to the top of the stairs, Morty was already at the bottom, staring up at me and meowing.

It was a strange and eerie meow.

I stopped in my tracks and pursed my lips at him. “Morty, this isn’t funny,” I said, but then I heard it.

A noise coming from downstairs.

Oh my God, what if someone was breaking into my house?

Was it Pendleton coming to kill me? Or maybe Mitch seeking revenge? Or the police coming to lock me up and throw away the key? None of the options were favorable, but I didn’t have a clue what to do.

I listened a minute, but didn’t hear anything more. I didn’t want to call the police on a false alarm, yet I wasn’t foolish enough to open the door. Maybe if I peeked out through the peephole, I would see something. I looked outside and almost fell over with relief. As I unlocked the door and yanked it open, a gust of wind filled with snow swirled around my legs. “Goodness, Maude, you scared the wits out of me.”

She gave me a look almost as creepy as Morty’s meow had been, and for a brief moment I wondered if maybe she were the killer. But that was crazy. The vision had clearly shown the killer was a man, although it had also revealed that Maude was indirectly involved in some way. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to invite her in.

“Are you okay?” I asked when she stood there, her eyes wide and glazed, giving me a funny look.

“No,” she said, shaking her head, looking as though she were in shock. “Everything is a mess.”

“But I thought everything was clear, and you were going to identify the killer.”

“I was.”

“The police are looking for you. I was on my way out. I can drop you off at the station, or near it, anyway.” No way was I getting too close to a jail of any kind.

“I can’t go anywhere.” Her eyes met mine sadly. “And neither can you, I’m afraid.”

“Why not?” An uneasy feeling settled over me, and I took a step back.

“Because I won’t let you,” said a menacing male voice from just outside the door.

I looked around for a weapon, but it was too late. The door swung open wide, and I saw a man holding a gun pointed at Maude, only it wasn’t Alex Pendleton. . . .

It was her husband, Bernard.

I gasped. “Mr. Sampson? What on earth are you doing?”

He pushed Maude all the way in and shut the door behind him. “What I should have done from the beginning. Get rid of the evidence.”

It finally sank in. “You’re the killer?”

He scowled. “I’m not a killer. What happened with Ms. Robbins was an accident.”

“Okay, then help me understand.” I looked around for Morty, but I didn’t see him. Some watch cat he turned out to be. If I could keep Bernard talking, it would buy me some time to figure out what to do.

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” he spat. “It’s because of you we’re in this mess right now.”

“Me?” I took another step back. “What in the world did I do?”

“You and those stupid tea leaves. If you’d left well enough alone, Pendleton probably would have taken the wrap. But no, you had to go and help Maude remember with all your psychic mumbo jumbo. All this time I been taking care of her, and now she has to up and get sane on me. It’s not fair. None of it is fair.”

“Not fair?” Maude snapped. “You’re not the one losing his memory. Your life will go on. Soon I won’t remember mine at all. How is that fair, Bernard? Huh? You tell me.” She started to cry. “I might as well be dead.”

“See, that’s just the thing,” Bernard ground out. “Save your tears, woman. I worked my whole life taking care of you and the girls. We saved and we planned, and now it was supposed to be our time. We were going to retire and move to Florida where I could fish every day if I wanted. But no, you had to go and lose your mind. When you got fired, it set us back financially. I had to postpone our retirement and take care of you. I’m exhausted, Maude. I can’t do it anymore.”

“But I didn’t get sick on purpose, Bernie. And why kill Amanda? You knew how much she meant to me,” Maude said on a sob.

“I went to her and pleaded with her to give you your job back. She refused to listen. Said she was sorry, but her hands were tied. I got so angry. I could feel all my rage and frustration build in me until I couldn’t stand it anymore. So I pushed her. I swear that’s all I did, but she was so dang small. She fell back and hit her head, and just like that she was dead.”

“You should have called the police right then and there,” I interjected in a calm voice. “You’d be in far less trouble. You still will be in less trouble if you call now.”

“I panicked. Haven’t you ever panicked?” He looked at my suitcase. “Seems to me you were doing just that when I got here, so get off your high-and-mighty horse.”

He had me there.

“Besides, even if Amanda’s death was an accident, I’d still do time. I’m too old to do time.” He looked back at Maude with pleading eyes. “You’ve got to understand my situation. What it will be like for me once you don’t remember.”

“You should have killed me instead of her, then.” The look on her face was pure anguish. “I’m obviously dead to you already.”

“I told you I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did and that’s that. So be it. I had picked up your prescription for digoxin before stopping by her place. After the accident, I poured some in her cup and thought people would assume she’d committed suicide on account of everyone knew something was wrong with her. I forgot all about the stupid note, though. I meant to leave one. When they declared her death a murder and suspected Miss Meadows, I tried to help that theory along by framing her.” He looked at me. “No hard feelings, ma’am.”

“No hard feelings?” I sputtered. “It’s just my life you were messing with!” The man was insane.

He raised his hands in the air. “I was desperate. When that didn’t work, I came clean about Maude’s memory loss and figured they might think it was her.” He glanced at her and winced. “I’m sorry, Maude, but like you said, soon you won’t remember anything, so what was the harm? A nuthouse or a nursing home, you wouldn’t know the difference, anyway. I’ve already done my grieving for you after I first found out about your condition. Don’t you want me to have the retirement I deserve?”

“You can’t be serious. You deserve to rot in hell,” Maude said. She looked at me, heartbroken and beaten down, like she didn’t have the strength to go on. “I can’t believe I ever had children with that monster.”

“Shut up,” he yelled. “I gave you everything. We haven’t been in love for years. We’ve gone through the motions so your precious town wouldn’t be scandalized. I stayed by your side for the sake of our girls. I took care of you all. Now this is the thanks you show me?” He waved his gun about. “You’re the one who deserves to rot in hell. And I’m in just the right frame of mind to send you there.” He cocked his gun and aimed it in our direction.

Oh my God, we really were going to die!

Maude and I huddled together, and suddenly the front door burst open. Mitch came barreling through with his gun drawn and pointed straight at Bernard.

Bernard moved faster than I’d ever seen a human being move, let alone a man of his age. He spun in Mitch’s direction, ducked as Mitch fired off a shot, and then pulled the trigger on his own gun, shooting Mitch in the arm. Mitch dropped his gun and grabbed his arm on a howl of pain.

“I spent four years in the Marines right out of high school before I got hired at the mill. Not to mention I’ve been trophy hunting since I was fourteen, son. I’m an expert marksman. Now get on over there with my wife and that quack.”

I scoffed, my jaw falling open. What was with everyone?

Mitch stumbled over to me, blood pouring out his arm, taking my mind off nonbelievers. I ripped off the hem of my skirt and wrapped it around his arm. Then I ripped off another piece and wrapped it around his still-bleeding head.

“I thought you’d be in the hospital by now,” I said quietly. “I called 911, you know. And I’m sorry, by the way.”

“I woke up right after you left, called off 911, and then followed you.” He gave me a sarcastic look. “Believe me, I planned on making you sorry.”

“Yet somehow I managed to make you even sorrier,” I said on a wince. “Story of our relationship.”

He grunted and then turned to Bernard. “You’ll never get away with this, Sampson.”

“Says you. Everyone thinks I’m out looking for my poor wife. Pendleton breaking out was a happy coincidence. I’ve got enough retirement money for one, and I’ve already set up a secret account. I hear Mexico is as nice as Florida.”

“Then why didn’t you simply leave town earlier today?” Mitch asked, scratching his head. “You could have been long gone by now.”

“I had intended to . . . until Maude remembered the night of the murder.” Bernard glared at his wife. “I saw it plain as day when she looked at me with horror in her eyes, and then she ran off. I knew I had to follow her and put an end to her misery and mine. If she lived, she would rat me out. If she died, I’d just look like the grieving widow who ran away to drown his sorrows in Mexico. Suited me just fine.”

“Bernie, you don’t want to do this,” Maude pleaded with him. “Think of our girls.”

“I
am
thinking of them. If I don’t take care of you, they’ll have to. They have no idea what it’s like to have you look at them blankly with no recollection whatsoever.” He stood up straight and nodded once as though he’d made up his mind. “I won’t put them through that.”

“Mr. Sampson, you can’t be serious. An accidental killing is one thing. But premeditated murder is a whole different matter,” I said. “Can you honestly kill us all, kill your own wife in cold blood?”

His bottom lip quivered, and his cheek pulsed, but he refused to waver. “My mind’s made up. Move to the living room, all of you.” He gestured with his gun.

We all moved into the living room and lined up on the couch where he was pointing. He faced us like a oneman firing squad. He stood rigid with his back to the bookshelves against my wall.

“I’m sorry, folks, really I am. I wish things could have been different, but they’re not. So be it.” He took a breath and lifted his gun.

Vicky began to shake, her walls rattling violently, my knickknacks clanking against one another. Pictures tipped sideways, and the floor beneath our feet rumbled while the pipes creaked and groaned.

“Oh my goodness, what’s happening?” Maude asked. “I think we’re having an earthquake.”

“Or the house really is haunted,” Mitch muttered.

“More like a Morty temper tantrum,” I clarified.

“You’re kidding, right?” Mitch raised his brows at me.

“Um, no. I told you that you’d thank me for my backup one day,” I said and watched Detective Stone’s eyes bug.

“What are you all blabbering on about?” Bernard asked, looking around uneasily.

“Behind you,” I yelled, pointing up.

“I’m not falling for any tricks,” Bernard said. “Just for that, you’re going first.” He pointed his gun straight at me. He cocked the hammer and started to squeeze the trigger.

I let out a terrified wail and covered my mouth with both hands, my gaze locking onto Mitch’s. He didn’t hesitate. He jumped in front of me, wrapping his good arm around me with his back to Bernard.

An eerie meow echoed through the room, and Bernard yelled, “What in blue blazes is that?”

Mitch loosened his hold a little but still didn’t let go of me as he turned us so we could both see.

Bernard had spun around, eyes wide with fright and disbelief as he stared up at a glowing Morty. Literally, his fur was an iridescent white, his eyes blacker than coal. Bernard lifted his gun in the cat’s direction. Morty sat on the very top of the bookshelf, ready to pounce. At the last second, he leapt in the air with a loud howl and landed on Bernard’s head. Bernard bellowed, dropped the gun, and latched onto the cat, who had his claws sunk deep into his skull.

Mitch grabbed my hand and instructed me to hold Maude’s hand, and then he pulled both of us out of the way just as Morty launched himself off Bernard and followed close on our heels. A bleeding Bernard faced us once more with rage in his eyes. He bent over to pick up his gun, and the bookshelf teetered precariously as though some supernatural force were helping it along.