Death at a Drop-In (23 page)

Joan stared straight ahead. 

“Your father would have gone early to the graveyard and had to wait quietly for a moment to confront Tobin.  As his luck would have it, Tobin was working in a shaded, woody area to the side of the cemetery.  Lucas had more cover for his crime in the shade.  He acted quickly, and with the element of surprise on his side, was able to whack Tobin hard with the shovel as he knelt to work.  Tobin probably never knew what hit him.”

Joan stayed silent.

Myrtle continued, “I was asking too many questions, I guess.  Making you uncomfortable.  I even visited Felix to ask about the life insurance. You felt like you had too much to lose, and were willing to take some risks to protect your dad and yourself.  I was zoning in on the areas you were hoping to keep secret.  You saw your chance to do away with me by shoving me down the ramp, figuring that even if I didn’t break anything, I’d probably either be injured enough to give up my investigating, or scared off totally.”

Here, Joan did jump in.  “Sure.  So I shove an old lady, trying to do her grievous harm, when I’ve got my small child with me. Noah would have called out, you know.”

“I’m imagining that Noah was fairly tired out after his previous trip to the library that day—when I was there picking out a book club selection.  Children that age still frequently need an afternoon nap. He certainly got very sleepy when I was babysitting him.  I’m guessing that Noah did take a nap—and that you slipped out of the house while he was sleeping to follow me for a while.  You saw the perfect opportunity to either scare me to death or to injure me in a way that would shut down my ability to investigate.”  Myrtle looked sternly at Joan.  “And now I’d like you to tell me where we’re going.”

Joan gave that strangled laugh again.  “Well, I can’t exactly silence you for good, right in the middle of downtown Bradley, Miss Myrtle.  That would hardly go unnoticed in our gossipy little town, now would it?  No, we have to take a bit of a car ride.  You’ll simply
conveniently disappear
.”

Myrtle shivered.  “You’ve got to rethink this, Joan.  You’re desperate now and you’re not thinking clearly. Someone must have seen me get into your car.  You won’t get away with this, you know.”

“Maybe they did see you and maybe they didn’t.  But I’ll have to take that chance.  You’ve already got it all figured out, haven’t you?”  Joan’s voice sounded frantic.

Myrtle took a deep breath.  “Think of Noah, Joan.  You’ll only make things worse by killing me.  With the death of your mother, you could even claim it was in the heat of the moment…which it probably was.  When you’re caught and charged with your mother’s death…
and
my death…things will be that much worse for you.  You might never even get out of prison.  Might not be able to hold Noah again.  Let’s turn around, Joan.  Let’s go straight to Red and tell him what happened.  You’ll get off so much easier, I know it.”

Joan’s only response was to drive faster and head farther out of town.  Myrtle remembered that you were never supposed to go to a second location with someone who took you by force.  In her situation, though, she couldn’t exactly launch herself out of the vehicle.  And when she’d gotten into the car to begin with, Joan hadn’t been the frightening stranger that she’d become over the course of this car ride.

After driving a few more miles, Joan pulled to a stop in a secluded area.  All Myrtle could see were kudzu vines everywhere, and dilapidated, deserted farm buildings overgrown with bushes and weeds.  “Get out of the car,” Joan said icily.  Myrtle hesitated and Joan pulled a knife from her pocketbook.  “Get out of the car,” she repeated.

Myrtle slowly opened the passenger door and got out, pulling her walker out with her.

Joan said, “Drop that walker.  You’re not going to need it now.”  She walked around the car and brandished the knife at Myrtle.  “Drop it and keep walking.  Head to those woods over there.”

“If you want me to
make it
to the woods, you’ll let me use that walker,” said Myrtle with a hint of asperity in her voice.

“You just said that you didn’t need the walker and you were set to return it,” said Joan, narrowing her eyes at Myrtle suspiciously.

“That was then, this is now.  You’re wanting me to go off-road.  I’m absolutely fine when I’m in my house or walking down the pavement.  But going off through a field and then through the woods?” Myrtle shook her head vehemently.

“All right,” snapped Joan.  “Only because I don’t want to have to drag your body all the way to the woods.”

For once, Myrtle was grateful for her big-boned, tall frame.  She unfolded the walker and started heading for the woods, feeling very much as Marie Antoinette must have felt on her way to the guillotine.  Her only hope was to stall for a bit.  Could she somehow stall enough until she could get that knife away from Joan? 

“Had you planned on killing your mother all along, Joan?  It seems more of a spur-of-the-moment thing,” said Myrtle casually as she walked toward the woods.

“No,
clearly
it wasn’t planned, since I’d never have chosen a time when Mother was hosting a huge soiree full of potential witnesses.”  Now Joan was sneering again. 

Myrtle was desperate to buy a bit of time.  “Why did you come back, then? Why go around the side of the house?  Why was your mother outside at all?”

Joan heaved a sigh.  “I came back to get Noah.  I ran my errand and then realized I was exhausted.  As usual.  Mother had that effect on me.  She was tying me down to a life I didn’t want, just like she’d done every day of my life. Mother always wanted me to be the pretty one, the one with all the dates, the one with all the answers.  Someone who was smart, the perfect hostess,
and
beautiful.  I was none of those things. Well…I might have been smart.”

“You weren’t even interested in those things, were you?” asked Myrtle.

Joan’s laugh sounded bitter.  “Maybe I would have been if I’d had the looks to carry them off.  But I was always socially awkward, and Mother kept signing me up for things like etiquette classes and ballroom dancing. It was pure torment for me since I was a total wallflower.”

“She had big plans for you, didn’t she?” asked Myrtle.

Joan’s voice was gritty.  “She was planning on my being nothing less than the first lady.  Note that she never planned on my being
president
.  I was only supposed to be the perfect accompaniment. But I was not fitting her mold.  Then I married a plumber and she really flipped out.”

“Did she finally give up on your becoming something you weren’t, then?”

“She sure did.  Even when I became divorced. I think she finally realized I was never going to be a society matron,” said Joan.

Myrtle asked, “Then she started transferring all those hopes and dreams onto Noah when he was born?”

“Immediately. Of course, her plans for him were that he’d end up a CEO of a major corporation. I could see what she was thinking, just by looking at her.  The night of the party, I went around the side of the house to try to enter through the back since the front door was clogged with people.  Mother was in the kitchen at the time, I guess, and saw me coming.  She came outside and started fussing at me because she’d popped into that bedroom and heard Noah telling the sitter about some dumb TV show he’d seen at home.”  Joan’s voice hardened at the memory.

“Your mother was complaining about your parenting?” asked Myrtle.

“Oh, that was constant. Constant!  This time, though, it really got to me.  Why
shouldn’t
he be able to relax and watch some of the same shows his preschool friends are watching?  Why couldn’t he have any downtime? I’d had enough.  The mallet set was right next to us and without even thinking, I reached down, grabbed a mallet, and struck her with it.” 

Myrtle shivered at the look of satisfaction in Joan’s eyes.  Then she took a deep breath.  She needed to act while Joan was absorbed in her thoughts.  Myrtle swiftly reached out and grabbed the knife, pulling it toward her as hard as she could.

Joan’s reflexes were the reflexes of the young.  Her grip automatically tightened on the knife.  A sneer pulled at the corners of her mouth.  “Good try, Miss Myrtle.  You get points for trying.”  She yanked her arm and pulled the knife back, hoisting it high in the air, ready to strike.

“Hold it right there,” said a grim but shaking voice. 

Joan whipped her head around toward the voice and Myrtle’s eyes widened.

It was Tina. Kim. Whoever.  The cub reporter.  She was holding that toy gun out in two trembling hands and it no longer looked like a toy.  It looked dangerous.

Joan croaked, “Who are you?”

Myrtle said, “She’s a member of the Bradley, North Carolina  Press Corps. I think your dirty little secret is out for good, Joan.”

Joan lunged at Kim.  Myrtle quickly shoved the walker at Joan’s legs, bringing her down to the ground.  Joan gave a furious shriek as she tried to untangle herself from the walker.  Myrtle nodded to the gun and hastily asked Kim, “Do you know how to use that thing?”

Kim, white-faced, nodded uncertainly at Myrtle.

“
Would
you use that thing?” asked Myrtle urgently.

Kim stared wordlessly at Myrtle.  Myrtle held out her hand and Kim quickly gave her the gun…but dropped it before she could hand it over.

Myrtle quickly stooped, using the prostrate walker to help her bend down.  Joan was simultaneously grappling around in the muddy earth for the gun.  Kim was frozen in place.

Myrtle’s fingers knocked it closer to Joan, who was able to get her fingers nearly to the point where she could grasp the pistol. Myrtle swiftly reached inside her purse and brought out a knitting needle, stabbing Joan in the arm.  Joan pulled back with a howl of pain and Myrtle crawled to grab the gun.  She sat, panting on the ground, aiming the weapon at Joan who was seething near her.

“Joan, listen up.  I
will
use this gun.  I don’t want to, though.  My daddy taught me how to shoot many, many years ago and he told me to always shoot to kill.  Don’t make me do it,” said Myrtle, pointing the miniature gun at Joan, who slumped, looking defeated.

Kim was looking slightly sick.  Myrtle said quickly, “Kim, could you call Red?  Tell him what’s going on, just in case Joan tries anything.”  Kim shot Joan an alarmed look and Myrtle added, “Although I don’t think she will.”

Chapter Twenty

“What I don’t understand,” said Red. “Is why that reporter just happened to be out there in the middle of nowhere with you.”

They were back at Myrtle’s house—Kim too.  She’d needed a ride to get back out of there since she was still too shaken up to get behind a wheel.  Red had taken only a few minutes to arrive—he must have been flying.  Now Myrtle was settled in her living room with a glass of sherry and Kim had gone to the restroom, which was why Red was questioning Myrtle now about it.

“I might have given her a lead,” said Myrtle.

“A lead that took her out to the middle of nowhere?  No wonder the girl carries a gun,” said Red.

“I was only trying to keep her from being so underfoot all the time.  She was driving me nuts, covering this story and then doing those ridiculous follow-ups on my ‘fall.’” Myrtle sighed.

Red looked away at the mention of the fall.  “Yes, well. Okay, well, sorry about my not believing that you were pushed, Mama.  Joan already admitted she’d done that to the state police, apparently.”

“I guess it did sound like I was making it up instead of owning up to unsteadiness,” said Myrtle grudgingly.

“So she was driving you nuts and you told her…?” Red looked questioningly at her.

Myrtle cleared her throat.  “I recommended that she go talk to Darla Covington.  It was a fool’s errand.”

“I’ll say! I bet Darla sent Kim off with a flea in her ear.  She lives out in the boonies for a reason—and it’s not because she likes company.  That wasn’t a very nice thing to do, Mama.”

“Well, right now it looks like a stroke of genius,” said Myrtle. “After all, Kim apparently got lost after Darla turned her away.  She saw Joan’s car and decided to ask for directions.  Although I thought all the young people had GPS on their phones or something.”  Myrtle frowned.

“They do.  But Kim’s phone was out of range. That’s what she said when I talked to her a few minutes ago.  I knew what happened
after
she talked to Darla;  I just didn’t know how she came to be out there.  Thank goodness she
was
out there, Mama, or you’d be deader than a doornail by now.”

Myrtle shivered and took a sustaining sip of sherry as Kim came back out.  Red looked at her and said, “Kim, I appreciate your talking to me.  I think I’ve gotten all the information from you that I need. I have asked a sergeant from the state police to give you a lift back to your car if you’re feeling more relaxed.  He should be outside in a cruiser. I’ll let you know if I need to talk with you again.”

Kim nodded.  “I’ll give you my cell number.  I don’t think I’ll be sticking around.  If I couldn’t handle what happened today, I shouldn’t even be in this business. Now I’ve found out that I didn’t even get the details of your mother’s fall right. You said that Joan pushed her and that she was on a ramp, not the stairs?”  She shook her head in self-disgust. “Miss Myrtle, do you think you could write up this story for me? I don’t even want to relive what happened today.”

Myrtle felt a twinge of guilt.  She was the one who’d practically set the whole thing up.  She nodded and said, “Kim…you do have some talent, you know.”  The words were hard to say.  “I mean—you did get the details of my fall wrong, so you do need to make sure you double-check your information before you publish it. But you write well.”

Kim made a face and shook her head again. 

“Okay, maybe crime reporting isn’t your thing.  There are other types of things you could write.  Do you have any interest at all in lifestyle reporting?  Fashion, fitness, the arts, things like that?” asked Myrtle.

Kim nodded.  “I sure do.  But I wasn’t sure I could get those types of jobs without some experience first.  That’s why I’m here.”