Part 27 (1/2)

”Who's Noah?”

”Noah Kaplan.”

”You mean Detective Kaplan? Is Noah his first name? I always wondered.” My mind reeled in confusion. What was going on here?

Diane narrowed her eyes and growled, ”I want Jeff back. If he's in jail, I'll be all alone, and who'll take care of me then, huh?”

Well, all right, then. That settles it. Let's just suspend every law of decency so someone can take care of Diane. Clearly, she needs a caretaker, or meds, or something!

”Aren't you afraid of your husband? After all, he killed Dax Martin in a jealous rage.”

Her eyebrows pushed together in surprise. ”What?”

”I know about your affair with your old boyfriend, Dax Martin, Diane. Don't deny it. Apparently, your husband also found out and killed him. If Jefferson's capable of murder, he could harm you too. Think about that.”

She threw her head back and laughed a little too harsh and a little too crazy. In that moment, I knew the truth. How could I not have seen it sooner?

The woman standing before me resembled the description of Dax Martin's killer. She was tall, slender, and had light hair. If she wore loose clothing and pinned her hair up under a baseball cap, she could look like a man in the dark. What would account for the funny voice Graciela heard?

Then I realized my mistake. Jefferson Davis's British accent wouldn't be a flag for a non-English speaker like Graciela; all English speakers would sound the same to her. But a softer, high-pitched feminine voice would sound incongruous, or ”funny,” if she thought she was looking at a man.

What was Diane's motive? I swallowed.

”You killed Dax Martin, didn't you?”

Diane just glared at me. ”n.o.body leaves me.”

And there it was. Motive. Martin and his wife were recently overheard arguing about his affair with Diane. Maybe he tried to end the affair. Diane obviously didn't take kindly to anyone leaving her. She must have arranged to meet Dax that night. If she caught him off guard, she certainly could have incapacitated him with the first blow and then beaten him to death. Dax Martin was killed in a jealous rage, all right. Diane's jealous rage, not her husband's.

I looked at the brown stains on her shoes. Blood? Back splatter from when she beat a man to death?

”You killed Dax because he wanted to end the affair and go back to his wife?”

”Noah was right about you.”

”What did Noah Kaplan say about me?”

”He said you have cop envy. You only sleep with a cop because you want to be one. He pities the stupid b.a.s.t.a.r.d who sleeps with you.”

I'd file that away for future disclosure: Hey, Arlo, your partner tells other people you're a ”stupid b.a.s.t.a.r.d.” I just hoped I had a future. I had to figure out a way to get out of the house and get help. I no longer had Ed's gun.

”How did you end up throwing the murder weapon into Ed Pappas's backyard?”

”I called Jeff. He came right over to the field. Jeff always knows what to do. He knew which house belonged to that Pappas guy, so he threw the bat over the fence. He said everyone would believe your friend killed Dax because they had a fight. Then he called the police the next morning to place an anonymous tip.”

That was it-the thing she had said earlier in the day that bothered me. She had known where Ed's house was and that the b.l.o.o.d.y baseball bat had been found in his backyard. However, the police had never publicly disclosed the exact nature of the murder weapon. Of course the killer would know.

Diane extracted a pair of gardening gloves from her backpack and put them on. ”Your friend wasn't home tonight. He has a nice set of tools in his garage.” Then she removed a hammer. ”I'll bet his prints are all over this. When they find your body, they'll think he killed you. Then they'll release my Jeff.”

Oh, my G.o.d. She means to kill me with Ed's hammer.

I needed to draw her outside. If we were outside, maybe someone could help me. Maybe there'd be a witness. Maybe she'd be afraid to be seen and leave. I turned and ran from the kitchen. I threw open the front door and ran outside, yelling as loud as I could, ”Help! Help! She's going to kill me!”

I moved forward and managed to duck as Diane took the first sideways swing with the hammer. Instead of splitting open my skull, it clipped a gardenia plant growing in a pot on the porch. Diane's rage was now in high dudgeon for all to see. She obviously didn't care anymore about her plan to blame my murder on Ed. She just wanted to kill me.

She swore and raised the hammer over her head, preparing to create an opening in the top of my cranium.

”Help!” I yelled as I ran, praying her long arms couldn't reach me. I knew I could never outrun her, so I headed toward my car parked in the driveway, hoping to put it between the two of us.

I reached the far side of my Corolla just as the hammer came down on the winds.h.i.+eld. It shattered with a resounding crack! The gla.s.s dissolved into thousands of s.h.i.+ny little pebbles.

”b.i.t.c.h!” she screamed. ”Get back here!”

Thwack! The hammer came down on the car, again and again, as she chased me.

”I hate you!”

In the frantic circuit around my vehicle, I desperately looked for something to defend myself with. Then I heard a loud ”meow.” b.u.mper had followed us out of the house and into the front yard.

Diane stopped and looked at me with wild eyes. By now, she was completely off the rails. b.u.mper meowed again. She turned away from me and looked down at my orange fluff ball. Her lip twisted into an ugly snarl. ”I hate your cat. I'm going to kill your cat.”

”No!” I shouted. I ran over and jumped on her back, wrapping my legs around her and putting my hands over her face so she couldn't see.

Diane tried to shake me off, but I was way too heavy. We both fell to the ground. I landed on my back and she landed on top of me. I tried to get up, but she turned over and sat on my chest. Her knees pinned my arms to the driveway. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move.

A nasty smile curled her lips. She raised the hammer. ”You're dead.”

I closed my eyes and waited for the end. I pictured the people who would be sad if I died. Quincy. Uncle Isaac. Lucy. Birdie. Beavers. Crusher.

Then I heard a loud bonk! It wasn't on my skull. I looked up.

Diane's eyes rolled back in her head just before she dropped the hammer and fell sideways.

”You okay?” wheezed Tony DiArco. He sat in his scooter next to me, holding a heavy green metal oxygen tank.

Sonia panted as she arrived and helped me out from under Diane's body, while Ron and Yuki's grandson, Parker, pulled out his cell phone and called 911.

I looked at the three of them. ”How did you get here so fast?”

Sonia said, ”The EAP. Don't you remember? When the spotter heard you screaming and saw you being chased out of your house, he called HQ. HQ called Tony, who was on patrol nearby. I heard the screaming and came out of my house. Looks like we got here just in time.”

I'd forgotten all about the enemy attack plan. When I knew Barbara Hardisty was in custody and no longer a threat, I forgot to tell Sonia to cancel the EAP. Thank G.o.d! They must have been watching my house this whole time. If they hadn't been, I'd be as dead as Dax Martin right now.

CHAPTER 42.

Detective Arlo Beavers insisted on riding with me in the ambulance to the hospital, even though I told him I was okay. The ER doctor sent me for a full-body scan because I'd fallen on my back. Aside from the nasty green marks blooming on my upper arms, where Diane had pinned me down with her knees, I had no other injuries. But I knew I was in for a bad fibro flare-up because of the trauma my body had just gone through.