The Ex Who Wouldn't Die (38 page)

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Authors: Sally Berneathy

Tags: #Humorous Paranormal Suspense

BOOK: The Ex Who Wouldn't Die
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Irene smiled. "Any time.
I'll be here
."

 

"
Thank you. I appreciate that. Right now
I need to run over to Dallas," she said. "I may not be back in time for dinner."

 

"There'll be plenty of leftovers in the refrigerator."

 

Amanda couldn't repress a smile.
Irene didn't ask what she was going to do or when she'd be back. She just offered food when she returned.

 

***

 

Amanda sat in a room that was either the same one or an identical twin to the one where Daggett had originally grilled her
.
She'd been waiting
in the
rectangular
room
for three hours or fifteen minutes, depending on whether time was measured by her watch or her nerves.

 

"The
J
udge is going to come unglued when he finds out you talked to the cops without an attorney present," Charley said.

 

"I don't plan to tell him, and I'd like to see you try."

 

"If Daggett arrests you, and the Judge has to post bail, he's going to figure it out
, and you're going to be in big trouble
."

 

"I'm already in big trouble. I can't get rid of you."

 

"Talking to yourself?"

 

Amanda whirled to see Daggett standing in the doorway. Damn! He hadn't slammed the door to announce his arrival this time.

 

"Uh, yeah. It's what I do. Sometimes. When I'm stressed. Talk to myself. Try to get things clear in my own mind."

 

Daggett took a seat across the table from her.
He still hadn't got a haircut, but he had shaved.
"Everything clear
in your mind
now?"

 

"Not really."

 

"You need a little more time alone? I can leave."

 

Amanda considered her response. She'd like to tell this rude man to stuff it, then get up and walk away.
But s
he needed his help. "I've got some information for you about the man who murdered my ex-husband."

 

"I'm not your ex!"
Charley shouted.

 

Daggett lifted a dubious
eyebrow. That eyebrow must have some powerful muscles as often as he lifted it. Or maybe it was just when she
was around. "Tell me
your information
," he said, setting a notebook and pen on the table.

 

Amanda drew in a deep breath. This wasn't
getting
off to a good start.
Not that she'd thought it would.
"Roland Kimball, mayor of Silver Creek. He killed Charley because Charley was blackmailing him." She told him the entire story, including her conversations with Greg and Sandy.

 

Daggett listened without expression or comment. A
s she talked, A
manda realized
she was speaking faster and faster, and the
temperature in the room seemed to be rising with each word.
Finally s
he finished her story, clenched her hands on the table top
in a gesture that mimicked her stomach
and waited.

 

"Is this the same
Kimball
you told me about the night your apartment was allegedly broken into?"

 

She had hoped he'd forgotten that conversation. "Yes."

 

"The same
Kim
ball
that your
deceased husband told you about?
"

 

She swallowed, but
held his gaze and
kept her voice firm. "Yes."

 

"The same night you thought your decea
sed husband came by for a visit?
"

 

Obviously he had not forgotten anything.

 

"Yes. I was—c
onfused that night." She clenched
her jaw
and forced herself to tell the outrageous lie she'd concocted in anticipation of this situation
. "I was under a lot of stress. I'd just lost my husband, and I had a head injury."

 

Charley gave her a thumbs-up.

 

The heat in the room intensified.

 

"But you're okay now?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Head injury healed?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Recovered from the loss of your husband?"

 

"Yes." She would be if she could just lose him.

 

"No more psychic visions from your husband?"

 

Did the man have a photographic memory?

 

"No."

 

Daggett leaned back in the wooden chair and tapped his pen on the table
, his gaze never leaving hers
.
"So where did you get this information about Mayor Kimball if it wasn't from a psychic vision?"

 

Time for another lie.
"Charley told me about the blackmail before he died. I
, uh,
guess I
had a slight case of amnesia due to the head injury and forgot most of the story. It came back to me in bits and pieces." She was becoming as good a liar as Charley. Not an ability she was particularly proud of or one she intended to cultivate when this was over. Unless, of course, she ended up in prison. Then it might be an ability that would come in handy.

 

"He told you he was committing a crime, blackmail, and you didn't report it?"

 

"He only told me the morning he was killed. He was worried. After he tried it a second time, Kimball threatened him."
Oh, what a tangled web we weave…

 

"Good job, Amanda," Charley encouraged.

 

"He called you that morning?" Daggett asked.

 

"Yes."

 

"And we'll find that call on your phone records?"

 

Amanda could feel sweat forming on her brow. This lying business wasn't easy. "I meant he called
on
me. Came over to talk to me.
Personal conversation.
"
She could only hope they wouldn't have records of Charley's comings and goings on that morning.

 

"I see. And then he called you on the phone after Kimball came to his apartment?"

 

"Yes."
Damned man wasn't taking notes. He didn't believe a word she was saying.
Or maybe he just relied on his memory. That seemed to work pretty well.

 

"Asked you to bring a gun
which
he planned to substitute for the murder weapon he didn't have, had never had."

 

"That's right."

 

"How did you know Kimball was there when Charley called you? Surely he didn't dare tell you what was really going on if this man was threatening his life."

 

A bead of sweat rolled down the side of her face.
She wanted to swipe it away, but that would call attention to it.
"Charley used special code words we'd worked out that morning in case he needed to let me know he was in danger from Kimball."

 

"So why didn't you take the gun to his apartment, do what you could to save your husband's life?"

 

"I didn't believe him."

 

"Amanda," Charley said, "if you keep letting that cop have control of the conversation, you're going to be totally screwed. It's time to go on the offensive. Attack him. Ask him if he's going to help you or let you get killed."

 

Amanda drew in a deep breath and sat straighter in the chair. Much as she hated to admit it, Charley was right. She was floundering more badly with each successive lie. "Are you going to check up on this man or let him kill me? I've already risked my life by going out to his house to try to get evidence on him. When I told him I had the gun he used to kill Dianne
Carter
, he threatened me. If he kills me, my death is on your hands."

 

"What did he threaten
to do
?"

 

"K
ill me."

 

"He said those words,
I'm going to kill you
?"

 

Amanda shifted on the uncomfortable wooden chair.
"Not exactly. He said it wasn't a good idea
for me
to threaten someone who had as much power as he does."

 

"
You
threatened
him
?"

 

"No! I just told him he was going to pay for
jacking
with my bike."

 

"I see."

 

"And then I told him if he didn't give me back the gun he stole from my apartment so I could prove I didn't kill Charley, that I was going to take the gun he used to kill Dianne
Carter
to the cops, and
that's when
he said I needed to be careful."

 

"He threatened you by telling you to be careful?"

 

"You had to be there. Trust me, it was a threat. The next day, he left yellow chalk marks on my motorcycle tires and wrote the letter
K
in the dust on my bike." That sounded really lame. "
He was
sending a message to let me know he
can get to me anytime he wants.
And
then last night
when I came home from talking to Sandy,
I saw somebody outside, watching me."

 

"Was it Kimball?"

 

"I don't know. It was dark."

 

"I see."

 

"You're losing," Charley admonishe
d her. "
Do the guilt thing again abou
t your
death
being on his hands.
That was good."

 

"So—you
can check on unsolved homicides in Austin on the date when Kimball and Dianne broke up,
her birthday their junior year,
and then you'll have him."

 

That eyebrow shot up again. "What will I have?
"

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