Teased to Death (Misty Newman 1) (19 page)

BOOK: Teased to Death (Misty Newman 1)
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"You're threatening the priest again. Lord have mercy." Donna made the sign of the cross.

"No." I winced. "Maybe I'll threaten Alfie."

"Oh, good. The cop." Donna made praying hands and mumbled something.

"It's for a good cause."

"To find the killer."

"Exactly. Except, Alfie's working, so he's safe, for the moment."

"What are you going to threaten them with?" she asked.

"I don't know." I knocked.

The door swung open, and I faced a black hole once again.

"Is anyone there?" I asked.

There was no response.

I shrugged at Donna, then took the first step forward. It was my neck on the line. I wasn't trying to be brave. In fact, I was shaking so hard my hand couldn't have dialed 9-1-1 if I tried.

"Hello?" We crept to the right, back to where we'd been standing the other night when Merlin revealed himself. There was a book sitting out on the table, a dusting brush next to it, as if someone had been cleaning it before we'd arrived.

The book was a huge one, so I grabbed it with both hands, just in case. It wasn't like I had a gun on me. Or a Taser. Or even pepper spray. They'd even taken my nail clippers at the jailhouse. I had to be resourceful.

"There." Donna nodded toward the hallway from which Father Olaf and Alfie had emerged the other night.

Except today, the two candles on either side of the doorway were lit. They flickered, casting an eerie glow around the dim room, the light dancing dangerously over the comic book covers.

I nodded moving forward, feeling like I was getting closer and closer to a sleeping bear's lair. And I doubted the consequences would be good. But there was no other way. I was now a fugitive, and I not only needed answers, I needed them
fast
.

No sooner had I taken the first step through the doorway than a rustle sounded behind me. Both Donna and I whirled around.

"Sorry," I mumbled, after a near miss of Donna's head with the heavy book I wielded in my hands.

Father Olaf stood behind us, his arms spread open. "To what do I owe this visit?"

"I need answers," I said.

Father Olaf raised one hand to his head, and I saw he held a cell phone. "9-1-1 is already dialed. I'm pressing the button, and you will be caught. You are now a fugitive, and I'm no longer afraid of you. My secret is out."

An iciness crept down the vertebrae in my back. I didn't think Father Olaf would hurt us, but he had nothing to lose anymore. Or nothing to gain by helping us out, at least.

I lifted the book a bit higher, and Father Olaf winced.

I glanced at Donna, who looked shocked. It wasn't like I was actually going to
hit
the priest. I was just shifting. The book was heavy.

"Uh, Misty?" Donna pointed behind me.

The very edge of the book had accidentally grazed the tip of the flame when I'd lifted it higher. The corner was very slightly singed, like a marshmallow just starting to brown.

"Aha," I said, the idea popping into my head. "You like this book?"

"Please." Merlin reached his hands out. "It's one of a kind. There's none like it."

"Probably why you were giving it a special cleaning." I raised an eyebrow.

He looked down. "Please, it's priceless."

"Yeah, well, so is my life, and I don't intend to spend it in jail." I looked at him seriously. "I'm not kidding. I have nothing to lose. I am extremely sorry to do this to you, but I need answers. I need a name. I need a number. If I don't get one of those in the next thirty seconds, this book is turning back into ashes."

"I don't have any information," Merlin said. "Honest, I don't know—"

I lifted the book closer toward the flame, and the corner started to melt just a bit.

Merlin whimpered.

"Stop lying," I said. "It's against the Commandments."

"Fine! Check the computer."

"Where's the computer?" I asked. "You just thought to tell me about the computer
now
?"

"It's in the room behind you," he said.

"No luck. I'm not falling for that. I'm staying right here, keeping this book nice and toasty by the flames," I said. I really hoped he'd get a move on with the information. My biceps were built for dancing, not for holding boulders above my head for ages. "You have internet on your phone, don't you?"

Merlin waited forever to respond. My arms were wobbly, and I was about to break down and follow him into the next room without a plan. I was getting desperate, and my arms were getting tired. However, just before my arms collapsed, I saw a crack in his resolve. "Yes."

"Tell me," I roared, the pain really getting to me now. It was like trying to hold on to the monkey bars for a year.

"I know her first name. I only know this because I poked around after you were arrested because I was curious. I can't find her last name, honest. But I have her address. It's real. A few weeks ago, there was an accounting mix up, and we didn't have enough cash on hand to pay the girls. Anthony knew where she lived, and I found a note stuck in his things."

"How do I know it's real? What if it's the address to Anthony's grandmother's house?" I asked.

"I drove by the address myself today. It's her—no doubt about it. I recognized the walk. The hair."

"Here's what we're gonna do. You're gonna give me the slip of paper with her name and address on it. You give us a fifteen-minute head start, then call the cops or don't. I'm taking the book with me. If the information is good, the book will be returned."

The priest nodded, his face resigned.

"We have a deal?" I pressed.

"Yes." He reached his hand out, and we shook on it. When I withdrew my hand, it was holding a piece of paper.

I glanced down at it, my mouth feeling like it'd come unhinged. All the saliva dried at the writing on the paper. "No."

The priest nodded.

"No," I said again.

Donna reached over and grabbed the paper from my outstretched hand. I was as frozen as a gargoyle in shock.

"No," Donna said. "No."

The priest nodded. "If you leave the book, I won't call the cops on you ladies."

I dropped the book on the table, rather unceremoniously, and hurried out of the shop with Donna close at my heels.

Unfortunately, we both knew the address to where we were headed, as well as the name on the paper.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

 

"I should've known." I shook my head.

Crouching next to Donna behind a fluffy bush, we hid directly across the street from the house in question. We'd parked a few blocks away and walked to the address listed on the slip of paper, so as not to arouse suspicion.

The house was small and modest, an easy-to-afford starter home for the single woman. The yard was boxy and simple. The place would look decent with minimal amounts of lawn care, and there wasn't much of a walkway that would need shoveling in the coldest months of winter. The few bushes out front sprouted dusty leaves, which rattled with the chill in the air.

"How? You were trying to be a good person. Heck, nobody guessed. Not even Jax," Donna said.

I gave Donna a small smile, but my attention was drawn back to the house as a cop car rolled to a stop out front. Squinting, I could make out Jax in the driver's seat, his girlfriend sitting next to him.

"Trouble in paradise?" Donna asked as we watched what looked like an animated argument take place. "He doesn't look happy."

Even I couldn't feel happy about this latest development, however, because Jax was sitting across the seat from Sarah, whose address was on the slip of paper that Father Olaf handed over to me. The chances were high that he was staring into the eyes of a murderer. Or now, kissing a murderer.

"Wow, that was fast," I said, glancing away as the animated conversation turned from a discussion into a steamy good-bye kiss. I wondered what had spurred Sarah to need a ride home, when I knew she had her own car.

"It's over. You can look now," Donna said, removing the hand she'd clasped over my eyes as the two locked lips. "Plus, she's getting out, which isn't a good sign for them. I think she's been staying at his place a lot, so maybe they need some time apart to cool off."

"We should signal Jax. I'm not sure it's a great idea to go after her by ourselves."

"Go after her? Nope, I wasn't planning on doing that. She's got crazy eyes," Donna said, shaking her head.

"She does, doesn't she?" A wave of relief washed over me. "I thought I was just biased from a stupid kindergarten grudge, but I couldn't get over the fact that she has crazy eyes."

"Nuts."

"Psycho."

I glanced at my friend and smiled. "Thanks."

"What sort of a friend would let you face a psycho on her own?"

"You?" I asked. "I think I'm going to go in there. I am an escaped convict. I don't have much time. In fact, Jax wouldn't probably even believe me if I signaled him now."

"That's not a smart plan. The woman has killed at least one person, who she supposedly
loved
, and possibly another. I don't like the odds of her letting you waltz out of there unscathed," Donna said.

"What about your faith in me?" I flexed my smallish arms, trying to lighten the mood with a grin.

Donna shook her head. "Those mashed potatoes aren't getting you anywhere. And, girl, you can dance like none other, but I'm afraid those skills aren't going to help you here either, unless you plan on seducing her."

"Not a bad idea." I raised an eyebrow.

"I'm not letting you go in there."

"Come on. It's the only chance I've got. I'll go back to jail if we call the cops, and there's a chance Sarah will never be caught."

"They'll look into it. The cops will figure out who did it, and if it's Sarah, they'll arrest her."

"But they'll be looking closest at me—especially since I broke out of jail. You're not
totally
innocent in this either, missy."

"Actually, that's a good point. I'm surprised I haven't heard from Nathan yet, asking where I went…" Her eyes got large as she looked up at me. "I don't have a phone. And neither do you, I'm assuming."

I gave a queasy smile. "Nope."

"Excellent."

"At least they can't track us," I said with a halfhearted smile.

"I kind of want someone tracking us. Especially if we're talking about going into the house of a
murderer
."

I looked at Donna. "We can't get the cops involved yet. They'll be too concerned about asking us
stuff
, and we don't have a ton of evidence on Sarah. Especially not stuff that can be explained quick and easy…"

"And without giving away Alfie. Jax knows about Father Olaf."

"Exactly." I looked up. "Plus, the more time we waste, the greater the chances are that we don't find Mrs. Jenkins alive. And I don't think she killed her husband."

Donna's face turned stony. "But I don't want to lose you too. If Mrs. Jenkins is already dead, I'm not letting you risk your life."

"But I don't want to spend my life behind bars."

"I won't let that happen. There's no evidence on you."

"Except for my fishnets at the crime scene!"

"I'll break you out again if I have to."

Donna and I were locked into a staring contest, both of us breathing heavy, neither of us ready to relent.

"Here's the deal," I said. "I don't want to lose Sarah. It's unlikely, but what if Father Olaf or Alfie got in touch with her and told her we're onto her? Or maybe Jax mentioned that I was broken out of jail—if he knows about it, which he probably does. Either way, she might be getting ready to run. I would, if I were her."

"And your idea to stop her is…"

"I think you should go to the cops. We don't have a phone, but the station's not far. Take the car. Go talk to Nathan or Jax. They'll believe you much more than they'll believe me," I said.

"What do you want me to tell them?"

"Tell them exactly what's been happening, what we found out, what Father Olaf told us. Get Alfie to back you up if you need—after all we've tried to do for him, we can only hope he'll help us. Gauge if they believe you. But go straight to Jax and Nathan. I still don't know who broke into my house and used a cop car to get away, so we can't take any chances of someone on the force hearing about this if they're in cahoots with Sarah."

"Of course."

"If they seem ready to work with you after all that, tell them you'll bring them to me
only
if they promise to arrest Sarah as well. They can take me in if they want, but I'm not going without her," I said.

Donna nodded. "What will you be doing?"

"I'm going to stay here. Keep an eye on the house."

"And if she leaves?"

"I don't have a car. How could I follow her?" I shrugged. "If she leaves, the best I can do is pay attention to which way she goes and wait for you to come back."

"You won't go in after her by yourself?"

"No." I wanted to cross my fingers behind my back, but I owed this much to Donna. "I promise you. I'll wait. I have faith you can convince Nathan or Jax. But you have to go now, and you have to hurry. Jax won't like to hear that his girlfriend is…uh, not who he expected."

Donna nodded. "Don't do anything dangerous."

I gave her a one-armed hug, and she kissed my cheek. "You got it. I plan to buy you a big steak after this, and I plan to be alive, eating one with you."

Donna hustled away, ducking into the shrubbery until she was in the clear on the other side of the block. I watched as she got into the car and cruised away, off to convince the cops to let me be free.

I hunkered down behind the bushes and settled in to wait. For the first few minutes, I tried to get comfortable amid the branches poking me in the ear and the leaves scratching against my neck. When a huge spider crawled on the stick directly in front of my face, I leapt backward, stumbling through the bushes.

The leaves rustled and the branches shook. Despite the loudness, I couldn't do anything about it. It was a huge spider. And I really didn't like spiders. I crouched behind the bush, a safe distance back, but I couldn't see much from across the street. Maybe if I took a few steps closer…

Slipping across the street was easier than I expected. There'd been no sign of Sarah so far. Not even a shadow in the window. It was a little worrying since the house was small, and I could see through the window panel by the front door all the way through to the backyard.

But she could be in the small upper level or the garage that peeked out from behind the house. It was a good sign she wasn't watching through her front windows, or I'd surely have been discovered by my tumble through the underbrush.

A large evergreen sat watch next to her front window, and now that I was on her side of the street, I could see a small opening under the branches, the perfect-sized burrow for a human around my height. If I could just sneak past the front windows…

A few seconds later I'd zipped across the front yard, after a few minutes of careful scanning of the surroundings. But the neighborhood appeared quiet, the houses spread out and independent. Some had hedges, others fences, and still others had landscaping that encouraged private yards and minding one's own business.

It was easy to sneak under the wide, outstretched arms of the Christmas-style tree, and I even found my new habitat to be warm and comfortable. It would be simple to wait here until Donna came back, cops in tow.

The dried, crispy brown tree needles created a nifty little blanket for me to kneel on, while the fullness of the branches covered me almost completely. I could see all of the yard, including the front door and a generous peek into the living room window. I hadn't seen any movement in the house yet, but there was no way Sarah could've left. From my hiding spot, I could see straight through the living room back to the garage, which was silent and dark.

My lack of phone was slightly irritating when I realized I couldn't check how long had passed since Donna had left and I'd migrated to my new hiding spot. Maybe it'd been one minute, and Donna wasn't even to the station yet. Or maybe it'd been thirty minutes, and Donna was already back, promising to show the cops my hiding place and discovering I'd jumped ship.

Dang
, I thought. Maybe I should've left a note, or an arrow made out of sticks, or
something
to show the direction I'd headed. I glanced back at the house. All was still motionless. Maybe I could scoot back across the lawn really quickly, check if Donna was parked down the street, and leave a small note…

A mumbled voice drew my attention back to the house. It was coming from the upstairs, I suspected. From the outside, there appeared to be a small, itty-bitty loft above the living room. Certainly not enough space for a bedroom, but maybe enough space for storage. Storage of what, I was hesitant to find out.

The curtain in the window of the upper level billowed lightly, and I thought I could make out a shadow inside the room. Unless it was a breeze from the outside and my eyes were playing tricks on me, which was entirely possible. All this waiting was starting to mess with my head, the smallest noises causing me to flinch.

But wait—the window was
shut
. The motion wasn't due to a breeze. There was someone up there.

I scooted back, very slowly. I had to get closer. I had to see if that was Mrs. Jenkins up there.

But as I scooted back, I bumped my head on something that hadn't been there moments before. My spine tingled, and my gut clenched as the cool metal of what may or may not have been a gun pressed to the back of my head.

A very calm, very collected voice spoke. "You're going to want to stand up
very
slowly and come with me."

I stood up, arms raised, and very slowly turned to face my archenemy from kindergarten. Her blue eyes, which I'd dismissed as cute and quirky, were now icy.

They were crazy eyes, for sure, but not crazy in the sense of a psychotic mental patient. They were crazy because they were so calm, so wide, and so determined. I had little doubt she'd shoot me in a second, and even less she wouldn't think twice about doing it.

"Sarah, it doesn't have to be like this," I said. "Please, I just wanted to see…"

"What did you want to see?" Sarah gave a chuckle, though her face was covered in a grimace. "Me kiss the
love of your life
? Me finish off Mrs. Jenkins? Me rock some sexy burlesque moves for your man-crush?"

"Is Mrs. Jenkins alive? Please, let her go. We can talk."

"She's alive, but not for long. Plus, it's too late to help her anyway. Or it will be too late by the time people find her." She shrugged.

"Where is she?" I had to keep her talking. It was my only chance. I was unarmed, with only a few pine needles and maybe a dry stick or two at my disposal. Meanwhile, Sarah had a gun on her, which she obviously wasn't afraid to use.

If I could keep her talking outside the house, Donna was bound to come back sooner or later, hopefully with the police. I needed to get a confession from Sarah. But too early, and nobody would hear it, and it'd probably leave me dead before the others arrived. Too late, and Mrs. Jenkins would die.

Sarah shrugged. "Doesn't matter. She was old anyway."

"But she didn't deserve to
die
. And neither did her husband."

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