At first we heard the truck start up. Exhaust fumes poured down into the hole and we nearly choked. The engine sounded horrible, which wasn’t surprising since it had a few bullet holes in it. Tires crunched over straw and litter, and it moved slowly off the trapdoor. Debris showered down on us as someone lifted the planks Rayna had propped up. If they noticed our efforts, they didn’t care.
A flashlight beam blasted against our eyes, momentarily blinding us. A man’s voice said, “I have a gun and I know how to shoot. No funny stuff or you’re dead where you sit.”
Nothing could have made me move at that moment. I was petrified wood. Rayna gave a little groan and was silent. We sat like caged monkeys while a steel sliding ladder lowered into the hole, nearly crunching my right foot.
“One at a time,” the gruff voice came again. “Climb up. You. Big girl. You come up first.”
Big girl?
That could only mean me, and I rather resented the term. Yet I was in no position to take noticeable offense. I wiped my sweaty palms on my Capri’s and grabbed hold of the ladder sides.
“Play it by ear,” I whispered to Rayna. “Stick with what we can.”
“Hey! No talking! Just git your ass up here!”
He sounded irritated, so I scaled the ladder as best I could after having sat in a hot, musty hole for several hours. My heart pounded against my rib cage, and my mouth was so dry I couldn’t have worked up enough saliva to stick out my tongue if I’d wanted. I had no idea who I’d see when I got to the top.
Someone, his partner I assumed, kept the flashlight in my eyes so I could hardly see. I put up a hand to block it, and the man grabbed my wrist and yanked it hard behind me.
Now, I’m not used to being manhandled. Whatever his faults, Perry had never in all our years of marriage laid a hand on me in anger. Not only that, but the wrist this man grabbed was the one that had been damaged in the car accident several weeks earlier. It was sore, and my reaction was swift and involuntary.
“Ow!”
I pushed back with my free hand, catching him by surprise and knocking him off-balance. He stumbled into his partner who let out a squeal like an enraged sow and swung at him with the flashlight. All this I saw in the space of a half second, I think. I started to run toward the now open double doors. A muffled sound like a hollow whistle darted past my ear, and a chunk of the old wooden door splintered before I reached it. I came to an abrupt stop.
“Next bullet goes in your back,” the man said, and I believed him. “Now git back here!”
I turned and walked slowly back across the barn floor. My knees were weak and my heart still hammered painfully against my chest. I felt faint. I wondered what he’d do if I keeled over at his feet. Probably shoot me while I lay there, I decided.
This time he held the gun up to my head and told me to put my arms behind my back and stand still. I did, even though I had no plan for this contingency. At last I’d gotten a brief look at him. I had absolutely no idea who he was. He didn’t look the least bit familiar.
He was a lot taller than me, which made him pretty darn tall, and he had heavy features and thick shoulders, and wore tight faded jeans, a tee shirt with NHRA on it, and a baseball cap that said John Deere right above the brim.
“Gimme that scarf you got on,” he said to his partner, and she protested.
“No! I like this scarf. It cost a lot of money. Use something else.”
“Gimme the damn scarf, Dawn. Won’t be long until you got plenty of money to buy you another one. Now give it here.”
“Damn you, Cliff. You should have brought the rope like I told you to do.”
“Woman, I ain’t gonna stand here arguing with you all night. We got stuff to do after we git rid of these two, now hand it over!”
Cliff? Dawn?
My mind churned with possibilities. I should know those names, I knew I should. Yet I couldn’t pin down where or why. Nothing came to me. My brain was so numb with dread I could barely think.
Whatever scarf the woman didn’t want to part with, she ended up doing so, and it was ripped in two by the man she called Cliff. I wanted her to come out from behind the flashlight so I could get a look at her, but she stayed back in the shadows, even though she kept whining about the silver scarf.
“It’s expensive, Cliff, really expensive.”
“What the hell. You didn’t pay for it anyway.”
“No, but I’d have to pay a lot to replace it.”
The man snorted. “It’s a wonder you ain’t got caught taking stuff off your clients like you do.”
“Those rich bitches don’t ever miss it. And don’t worry about what
I
do.”
“Stupid risks, Dawn. There’s been too much at stake for you to go and take such dumbass chances.”
“Well, it’s worked out hasn’t it? Just this last bit, and I can get out of this town and sit back and collect my money.”
Cliff knotted the scarf around my wrists and yanked hard to be sure it wouldn’t come loose. Then he said, “What do you mean
your
money. It’s
our
money.”
“The policy is in my name, don’t forget.”
“And I took most of the risks. Don’t
you
forget.”
“Well . . . you weren’t alone. And this is almost over with anyway.”
“Yeah? Keep in mind that we’re both in this together, sweetheart. If I go down, you go with me.”
He jerked me around and shoved me toward the woman. “Hold on to this one. I’ll git the other one up from the hole, and we can git out of here.”
He talked about Rayna and me like we were inanimate objects, just loose ends that needed tidying up. It was not only infuriating, it was terrifying. But while the two of them had been arguing, my brain had kicked out random bits of information. Things began to click into place, and I wasn’t that surprised when the woman pulled me over beside her and I recognized her.
“Well,” I said as calmly as I could under the circumstances, “we meet again. What a coincidence.”
She lifted a brow and just looked at me for a minute. Then she said, “You should have stayed home and not gone snooping where you had no business.”
“Dawn—or should I call you DJ? You know you won’t get away with this.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. That’s what you think. It’s gone perfect except for a few bumps in the road.” She laughed at that, and my eyes narrowed.
“I suppose you thought it was funny when we ran off the road into the gully?”
“A lot funnier than that firepower your bitch of a cousin was throwing at me. I never thought someone like her would have the guts to do that.”
“You’d be quite amazed at Bitty’s talents.”
Dawn snorted. “Her talent is spending money and talking a blue streak. That’s all the talent she has. That’s all any of you bored rich people do.”
“Rich? Me? I wish.”
“Right. Look, just keep your mouth shut, okay? I don’t want to hear anymore out of you. This isn’t the time to swap war stories.”
I had a feeling hers would far outmatch mine.
Cliff, who must be the same Cliff who’d tried to kill Race Champion on the track, pulled Rayna off the ladder and gave her the same treatment he’d given me, turning her around and tying her hands behind her back.
Rayna looked from him to Dawn without recognition. I decided introductions were in order.
“Rayna, this is Cliff Wages, and I’m pretty sure this charming young lady is Dawn Jeannette Hardy. Race Champion’s wife.”
A look of shock crossed Rayna's face. “But I don’t understand . . . why are you two doing this? Race is dead, so—oh. Of course. Insurance money.”
“Bingo,” Cliff said dryly. “You win the prize puzzle. Now git over here by your friend. We’re going to take a little trip.”
I exchanged glances with Rayna. We didn’t seem to have much choice. My throat got pretty tight and my eyes stung, but I kept my head held high. I wasn’t about to cower in front of these criminals. Not yet, anyway. I was pretty sure that would come later.
With Cliff and Dawn behind us, we were shoved toward the doors and the truck waiting outside. I half-turned to look at Dawn.
“Tell me, why did you run us off the road? We weren’t even close to knowing about you.”
“I thought Bitty recognized me. I was staying in one of the cottages and had started out the door when I saw y’all coming across the yard. I just didn’t want anyone to put me at the scene.”
“But if you were registered under your real name—okay, I assume you weren’t. You took some pretty big risks, you know. Cliff is right. It could have blown up in your face. Why stay at Madewell Courts right under Trina and Trisha’s noses?”
“It was the easiest way to get to Race. Only he had that stupid bimbo he’d gotten engaged to with him, and it nearly ruined everything. I’d told him to meet me here to discuss our divorce.” She laughed. “I guess he’d forgotten to tell her he was married. When I showed up, she got mad as spit and pulled a gun on him. It scared the life out of me for a minute, until he took the gun away from her and got shot in the shoulder for his trouble.”
“And you finished the job,” Rayna said. “I wonder why she didn’t tell the police about you?”
“Money is an amazing bargaining chip. I told her if she’d just be quiet, I’d give her some money. Of course, Race was still alive then, and he was all for a quick divorce.. It wasn’t ’til she left that I shot that lying, cheating bastard between the eyes. He deserved it, too.”
“But Naomi? Did she deserve to die?” I couldn’t help asking.
Dawn got impatient. “Naomi was an airhead. An idiot. The only reason Race was with her was because she was supposed to inherit a lot of money from Bitty’s ex. That was a crock, and I knew it. Race and his damned hot rods. That’s what he cared most about, those stupid cars.”
“Hey,” Cliff said, and she shot him a fierce look.
“If it wasn’t for you messing up, he’d have died in that race and we wouldn’t have had to do all this. But no, you said you knew what you were doing. Now look, we’ve had to cover our tracks from Day One. I’ve had to do it all.”
Cliff jerked to a stop and grabbed me by my hair. “I’m the one who killed Naomi, and I’m tired of listening to you bitch. Let’s just git rid of these two now and to hell with the rest. Stick ’em in the truck, and let the cops sort it out.”
“Don’t be stupid!” Dawn snapped. “We have to do it right. I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder the rest of my life.”
Off balance from the way Cliff had hold of my hair, I looked up at him. “Better listen to her, Cliff.”
He stuck the gun up by my face. “I’m not listening to neither one of you! Got that? I don’t take orders from women!”
Just when I thought I was about to be blown to kingdom come, a voice I didn’t recognize said from about three feet behind us, “Put down the gun, Wages. Now!”
It was a decidedly male voice, and he didn’t sound at all friendly. My head was pulled sideways, and I couldn’t see anything but Dawn’s face in the dim light. Her eyes got really wide, especially when another voice said, “We’ve got six rifles pointed at the both of you, and if you don’t let go of both those women I’m giving the sharpshooters the okay. Put down your weapons, put your hands over your heads, and go to your knees on the ground.”
For a moment I thought Cliff would refuse. His grip on me tightened, he tensed, and I waited for the bullet.
Then he shoved me away, threw down his gun, cussed a blue streak, and put his hands over his head. I caught my balance before I careened into Rayna, and we both took off running toward the uniformed officers bunched on the other side of the ruined truck.
I have never in my life been so glad to see police waiting on me.
CHAPTER 22
“Weren’t you scared?”
I looked at the women seated out on Bitty’s front porch. Rayna and I had been unofficially crowned queens of the Divas, and now that we were partially recovered from our harrowing brush with death, we held court like royalty.
“Terrified,” I replied promptly.
Rayna said, “Petrified.”
Even though it had happened a few weeks before, there were moments when I broke out into a cold sweat just remembering it. Today, however, was intended to banish the memory. Or at least relegate it to a lower place on the roster of events in my life. If I let it constantly shadow me, then the two criminals would still have control. I’m way too stubborn for that.
All the Divas were there: Gaynelle, Cady Lee, Cindy, Sandra, Marcy—having safely delivered her baby—Deelight, and our newest two members, Carolann Barnett and Rose Allgood. While we were still shy a member, Bitty had been overruled and we also had a guest.
Miranda Watson had unexpectedly come out of her coma and done so well that she’d been released from the hospital the previous week. During her stay, she had also lost nearly forty pounds and said she felt better than she ever had before. Rayna had suggested inviting her to join us at our first Diva meeting since all the murders, and so she’d shown up fifteen minutes earlier. To Bitty’s chagrin and my amusement, Miranda had also brought along her new pet: a miniature pink pig.
“They’re quite expensive,” she repeated several times, “and the only one I could find was in Oregon. I’ve been on the waiting list for a while. It’s a Stewart pig.”
While I wasn’t quite sure what a Stewart pig was, or what made them expensive except that they were so little, I said, “She’s cute, Miranda. She’s about the same size as Chen Ling—and looks very much like her, don’t you think?
“I certainly do
not
,” Bitty answered instead. “Chen Ling has a pedigree.”
“Really,” said Miranda. “So does Chitling.”
Bitty nearly turned purple. I stuck my face in my martini glass to keep from laughing too loud. Most of the Divas followed suit. Miranda Watson smiled broadly. It was obvious she was having a good time bursting Bitty’s little bubbles. Bless her heart.
“So how do you think your new job will affect your weekly column in
The South Reporter?”
asked Cindy Nelson.
Miranda touched the wide brim of her flowery hat in a primping gesture. “Oh, I expect to be able to handle both well. If not for Michael Donahue reading my exposé on the people who murdered poor Naomi Spencer and recommending me to his editor, I’m sure I wouldn’t have gotten the position. He’s such a wonderful journalist, you know.”