A Luring Murder (21 page)

He glanced at Louise to see if she agreed with him or not. I suspected that his answer would change fast if she didn’t agree.

Samantha sat coolly watching the Deputy fill out his confession. She kept her back toward Patrick’s cell. Her tears had miraculously dried. Her eyes show no hint of red, not even a little pink.

“She did it,” I said. “I don’t know why Watkins is confessing, but I know that she did it, with every last inch of my body. Samantha King is a cold-blooded murderer.”

“No,” Digs said, and glanced at her over his shoulder.

“Don’t be fooled by the innocent costume, Digs,” I said.

“I agree with Catherine,” Louise said. “Samantha is our murderer. She killed Warren to frame her husband, and when McMahan confronted her, she killed him too. Somehow she’s convinced Deputy Watkins to take the fall.”

“I can see your point.” Digs folded his arms across his chest, pursed his lips, and bobbed his head.

As I suspected, a new song from Digs, anything to dance to Louise’s beat. Men are so predictable.

“There’s nothing we can do,” Louise said. “If Deputy Watkins is willing to go to jail for this murder, we can’t stop him.”

I hated the thought of being powerless to make things right. Justice was an all-consuming need for me. The thought that a killer would get away with murder pissed me off.

I looked at Digs hoping he’d have some forensic evidence, which conclusively nailed Samantha to the crime scene that he’d been holding back. He shrugged and splayed his hands.

Then I remembered the little white mutt. He’d growled when I was near Samantha, but he’d also growled when we were with Deputy Watkins on the dock.

“Maybe Watkins is actually in on this with Samantha. At least we’re getting half of the Bonnie and Clyde team off the streets,” I said.

Half was better than nothing, but in my mind, Watkins wasn’t the most dangerous half of this couple.

“I can’t help but think the next thing she’ll do is try to kill Patrick, or have someone else kill him.”

Patrick was still crumpled on the floor with his head in his hands, dejected. He knew Samantha didn’t love him when she married him, but the reality that she never would love him, no matter what he bought her, no matter what he did, or how sweet he was to her, had sunk in. He couldn’t escape the truth or hide from it.

“He’s a sitting duck.”

“Maybe we should warn him.” Louise watched Patrick with the same concern that made my arms weak. “If we tell him our suspicions maybe he’ll leave her. Or leave town, get far away from her.”

“Yeah, let’s warn him,” Digs said.

At least we would have done our part. We couldn’t do any more to change the future without evidence. Once we left town, Patrick King would be on his own.

I nodded my agreement.

“Sheriff.” Louise broke from our huddle.

The Sheriff turned toward her. “Yeah?”

“Under the circumstances, don’t you think we can release Mr. King?”

Patrick looked up. His face was red and tear stained. His tears, unlike his wife’s, were genuine. So was the pain that radiated from his face.

“Of course.” The Sheriff took the keys from the top drawer of his desk and opened the cell. “I’m real sorry about all this, Patrick. None of this should have happened.”

Patrick wandered out of the cage like a man wandering out of the desert, looking at civilization as if it were a mirage. Like at any moment what he saw could vanish.

Samantha took him by the arm. “I’ll take you home, sweetheart.”

He yanked his arm away from her and took a step back. He looked at her as if she were a pile of dog vomit.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Samantha recoiled in surprise.

A little piece of me deep inside yelled, “yippee!” Patrick had seen through her disguise, and saw her for what she really was, a conniving user. The spell she had on him was broken.

“I want you out of my house, Samantha. I’ve looked the other way for years, but not anymore. How in the hell could I have been so stupid?” He clenched his jaw and shook his head. “I don’t even know what I saw in you anymore. You’re a horrible person, and no amount of make-up can make that look pretty. I want a divorce.”

Samantha grew red with anger. Her shoulders heaved with each sharp breath. The first real emotion she’d shown today.

“That’s fine, Patrick.” Her voice shook through her gritted teeth. “I still get half. Or did you forget that little detail of the prenuptial agreement? As long as you leave me, I still get half of everything.”

Her face was full of smug satisfaction. Things hadn’t gone exactly as she had planned, but Samantha King was getting exactly what she wanted. She’d found her way out of the prenuptial agreement.

“Oh no, my dear,” Patrick said. “Apparently, it’s you who has forgotten the stipulations of the prenuptial agreement. The prenup clearly states that if you commit marital infidelity, you get nothing.”

Her spine went rigid.

“Your lover is signing a confession, sweetheart, that’s going to hold up in any divorce court in this country. You will get nothing. You’ll have to go back to slinging hash at the Long Neck when my lawyers are through with you.”

Deputy Watkins stopped writing and stood slowly.

Samantha’s jaw dropped. “You son-of-a-bitch. I didn’t go through all of this for nothing.”

“Samantha!” Deputy Watkins moved toward her, but I blocked his path. “Stop talking, right now.”

“Fuck you, too,” she yelled. “You told me everything would work out. You were going to make sure that everything went as planned. I should have known you were an idiot when McMahan saw us. You were supposed to fucking check the area!”

Now we were getting somewhere.

“You were the big man who was going to take care of everything,” she said. “You would hide the evidence, and steer the investigation towards Patrick. Great job my
love
.”

She threw her purse at Deputy Watkins. He blocked the projectile before it hit his face and batted it to the floor.

“I still get nothing. All these years of being married to this half-witted cow jockey, and I get nothing.”

Patrick stumbled back struck by what she’d said.

“Shut up, you stupid woman!” Deputy Watkins grabbed the gun from the Sheriff’s holster, pointed it at Samantha, and pulled the trigger.

Patrick lunged forward and shoved Samantha out of the way. The bullet struck him in his upper right shoulder. He crumpled onto the floor.

Damn it. I had no gun, no pepper spray, no stick, not even a flashlight to hit Watkins with, and nothing to protect myself, or anyone else. I did the only thing I could do; I tackled Digs, who was still standing bone straight paralyzed with fear.

I knocked him to the ground and covered him with my body. A faint, “ouch” murmured out from beneath me.

I checked over my shoulder. Louise had wisely taken cover under the big oak desk. Samantha lay next to Patrick and gaped at the blood bubbling out of his shoulder.

Watkins took aim at Samantha again. The Sheriff lunged at him and dragged him to the ground. The two men wrestled over the gun. A stray shot pinged through the air.

Samantha scrambled to her feet and made a break for freedom. She just about made it to the door when she fell flat on her face. Louise dragged her cane out from under Samantha’s foot and waved it at me.

“Oops.” She smiled.

Sheriff Anderson won the battle for the gun. He had his knee wedged in the back of Watkins’s neck. Anderson yanked the Deputy’s arms behind his back and locked his wrists into handcuffs.

I pushed myself up off Dig’s back. He laid face down not moving.

“Are you okay, Digs?”

He groaned.

“Digs? Are you shot?”

He rolled onto his back.

“No. But I think you broke my rib, O’Brien. Where’d you learn that move? Vikings training camp?”

Talk about ungrateful. “You’ll live.”

I crawled over and knelt beside Patrick. Blood flowed freely from his shoulder and soaked both the front and back of his shirt. I pushed the heel of my hands over the wounds to stanch the flow.

He sucked in a deep breath and winced. “That son-of-a-bitch actually tried to shoot Samantha.”

All that and he was still worried about her. I guess the head, and the heart, didn’t always agree.

“Try to stay calm, Patrick. You’ll lose more blood if you get upset. Take deep calming breaths.”

Sheriff Anderson got Watkins to his feet, shoved him into the cell, slammed, and locked the door. “I’m very disappointed, Thomas.”

“Is she okay?” Patrick pushed himself up to a sitting position. “Samantha?”

Louise dragged Samantha to her feet and handcuffed her to the nearest filing cabinet. Samantha pulled at her restraints, but only succeeded in opening the file drawer.

The Sheriff would have to find somewhere else to house Samantha, or Watkins would choke her to death, before either of them made it to trial for Warren Pease’s murder.

“Samantha is fine Patrick,” Louise said.

He looked up at her. “I love you, Samantha. I always have.”

“I hate you, Patrick.” Samantha let out a resigned breath. “And I always have.”

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

After we wrapped up everything at the jail. Louise, Digs, and I went back to the resort.

This case had put me in a bad mood. I sat in silence all the way back. I was irritated that Warren Pease was murdered for no reason at all. Granted, he wasn’t the world’s nicest guy, but he hadn’t done anything to provoke his murder. Warren Pease just happened to be having a relationship with the wrong woman.

Digs parked the van and looked at us. “Well ladies, I have a dinner to make.”

He slowly lowered himself to the ground, guarding his ribs.

I probably had cracked one or two of his ribs, but it was better than being shot full of holes. Bones would mend; bullet holes could be deadly. He would thank me some day.

I turned to Louise. “Aren’t you glad you didn’t get involved with the Deputy? At least you know that Digs will never plot to murder you.”

“I would never put that notion past anyone these days, Catherine.”

She got out of the van. I followed.

“Except Digs,” I said. “He adores you like Patrick adored Samantha. Even after she cheated on him, and tried to frame him for murder, so she could steal his money, he still loved her enough to take a bullet for her. That’s what I call love.”

“Catherine! Louise!”

Gavin jogged up the hill in his shorts, and sandals. He was still wearing the socks, even after I’d asked him not to. That was going to leave an interesting tan line that I’d have to look at all winter long.

“No,” Louise said and pointed at Gavin. “That’s what I call love.”

I smiled. “Yeah, it is.”

“Hey ladies.” Gavin was puffing a little. “Did everything go okay?”

Apparently, news of the shooting hadn’t traveled from the grapevine out to the lake yet.

Good. At least he wouldn’t give me the lecture about my job being dangerous again. I preferred to spend the rest of our vacation pretending to like the outdoors, and not fighting about my work.

I put my arm around his waist. “Everything went fine. How’s the fishing this afternoon?”

“Got skunked.” He kissed my cheek. “Are you done with your investigation? Are you ready to relax now?”

“Yes, Gavin, we’re done,” Louise said. “She’s all yours. If you’ll both excuse me, I have to get ready for a dinner date.”

Gavin and I headed down the dirt path to our cabin. The little white dog ran up beside Gavin yipping at his heels.

“Haven’t you found his home yet?” I said.

“No one claimed him.” Gavin knelt, and scratched the dog behind the ear. “I was thinking we should take him home. He seems to like me.”

“You’re not serious. He doesn’t like me. That dog peed on my leg!”

The dog rolled onto his back to let Gavin scratch his stomach. He didn’t fool me. He could try to look as innocent as he wanted to, but I knew that dog was evil.

“He didn’t know you,” Gav said. “I was thinking we could call him Sunfish. Then we could call him Sunny for short.”

“You named him?”

Now we would have to take him home. The icy chill of dread ran over my body as I locked eyes with the mongrel. I was certain he would try to usurp my position in Gavin’s life.

“Come on, Catherine. It would be nice to have a dog in the house. He could protect us from intruders.”

“I have a gun, Gavin.”

“But he could warn us that someone was in the house.”

The dog’s tongue lolled out of his mouth as Gavin scratched his belly.

“Besides, it would be nice to have company when you’re working late.”

Torpedoed, right where I live. Not fair playing the guilt card. I’m Catholic for God’s sake. We feel guilt on a whole different level than non-Catholics.

“He did sort of help me solve this investigation.”

“He did?” Gavin scratched at the dog’s belly. “What a good boy. Maybe we should call you K.C. for Killer Catcher.”

“I don’t care what you call him.”

“K.C. O’Brien it is.”

Oh, God.

“Fine,” I said. “He can come home with us with conditions. I won’t walk him, feed, him, or clean up any accidents.”

Gavin jumped to his feet and kissed my cheek.

“And! For every shoe he chews, I get two new pair of my choosing.”

“Deal.” He whistled through his teeth, and K.C. got to his feet, and followed us. I wondered how long they’d been working on that little trick.

Gavin held my hand as we strolled back to the cabin, with K.C. following in our wake.

“I love you, Gav.”

“I know you do,” he said. “I love you too.”

“How much do you love me?”

He kicked a stone down the path like a little kid, and K.C. chased after it.

“What do you mean?” He said. “Do you want me to measure my love in pounds, or inches?”

“Very funny.” I poked him in the ribs. “Would you take a bullet for me?”

He paused for a moment and considered the question.

“No. Definitely not.”

He grinned.

I slapped him on the ass and laughed. “Yes, you would, or I’d shoot you myself.”

“I kinda figured you would.” He put his arm around my waist and hugged me close.

I didn’t even have to ask if he’d take a bullet for me to know the answer deep down. He would.