Part 30 (2/2)
”She made the quilt from my aunt's clothes and my aunt was good to me.”
”But you killed her daughter.”
”So now they're together.” He raised a hand like he'd done them a favor. Psycho.
”The night I brought Isobel to your place-” He shook his head. ”I had the accident that put me in this chair.”
”I know,” I said. ”That's called karma.”
He tried to backhand me, but I stepped from his reach. ”Do you want me to sic my ghost friend on you again?” I asked. ”Too bad I can't get him to trip you down the stairs in your chair this time.”
Goodwin roared like a wounded bear. It would be to my advantage if he lost it altogether. He might be less careful, though his two bodyguards looked on with quiet amus.e.m.e.nt. They wouldn't let me get away with anything.
”Lolique, why did you call Isobel 'Saint Belle' the night we had drinks?”
”The old goat wors.h.i.+pped her, and he was guilt ridden because they'd quarreled the day she went missing. He still calls her name in his sleep, the schlub.”
Isobel and McDowell had been having a simple quarrel in my cape-wearing vision. I'd called that one wrong.
Two feet from the well.
I did some fancy footwork around the chair to confuse them all, back to front, a not-so-happy dance.
Lolique homed in with her gun, but she was so focused on me, she tripped over a clump of gra.s.s, and fell.
I ducked behind Natalie as the gun went off.
Natalie fell. Had she caught the bullet?
Lolique scrambled around in the gra.s.s. She must have dropped the gun.
While she looked, I slipped my hand in my pocket and pushed the single-digit speed dial for Werner, covering the sound by shoving Gary's chair into the stone base of the well.
He screamed in pain as Lolique scrabbled to her feet.
As she came our way, her attention on Goodwin screaming, I swung my bag and knocked her down. But the bag was so heavy, it flew from my slippery hands and landed in the well.
Lolique rose and came straight for me, and I realized how strong hate and greed could be.
”Where's the gun?” Goodwin yelled. ”Kill her now!”
”You're stupid, Goodwin,” I yelled, ducking Lolique's clawing charge. ”The police are taking down Isobel's portrait right now. You were home free.”
”No!” Gary howled like a madman and caught my attention.
Lolique caught me off guard and tackled me. I ended up balanced on the edge of the well, like I'd seesawed on the edge of the upper-floor railing to see the portrait.
Lolique laughed in my face and shoved me backward with both hands.
Like Isobel, I was falling.
Forty-three.
It is the unseen, unforgettable, ultimate accessory of fas.h.i.+on that heralds your arrival and prolongs your departure.
-COCO CHANEL I smelled chocolate.
The light was bright, the tunnel narrow, and on the other side, someone called my name.
I opened my eyes. ”Who knew that G.o.d would look like the Wiener.”
G.o.d growled, and then he got touchy-feely and ran his hands over my arms and legs, my head and back. ”Anything broken?” he asked.
”Everything.” It didn't smell like chocolate anymore. It smelled musty and damp. It smelled of decay. The dirt around me had bugs in it, lots of them, and . . . bones. Small bones.
”Can I just say that you took ten years off my life? By rights, you should be dead,” Werner said, and I could feel his hand trembling against my arm. ”Smart of you to throw down a bean bag chair first.”
”I landed on my bag?”
”Well, it's not a purple marshmallow.”
”You bet it's not. My bruises are probably shaped like eggs.” I gasped, remembering. ”I hope you didn't take down the portrait.”
Werner chuckled. ”We're having a conversation in the bottom of a well, Madeira.”
”So . . . you're not G.o.d?”
”I'm not a wiener, either.”
”Did I say that out loud?”
”You've probably got a concussion. It doesn't count. McDowell was more concerned about you being out here with Goodwin than about my plan to take down the portrait.”
”Goodwin killed Isobel and threw her down here,” I said, ”not McDowell. Vinney was abetting his handicapped stepfather, the murderer, by removing the evidence of Goodwin's crime from my building.”
”I know. And Vinney killed Sampson to set the fire as a diversion, like you said. Goodwin and Lolique are up there confessing.”
”Singing like canaries?”
”You watch too many old cop shoes, Mad.”
”Enough to know that these small bones might belong to Isobel. Goodwin was sloppy when he moved the bones out of here.” I hurt when I moved but I picked up the ones I could reach and slipped them into Werner's s.h.i.+rt pocket. ”Take good care of Isobel.”
”Leave it to you to keep trying to solve a crime when everything seems hopeless.”
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