Fat-Free and Fatal (A Kate Jasper Mystery) (29 page)

“I’m sorry, honey—” he began. His words weren’t enough.

Topaz turned and ran. She disappeared down the hallway.

“Daddy hurt me!” came her wail floating back to us a minute later. Then we heard the sound of rushing footsteps.

Rose Snyder burst from the hallway, dressed in a lavender chenille robe, with quilted slippers on her feet. She pulled her wire-rimmed glasses from her pocket and put them on. She took a hard look at her son. Her eyebrows rose when she saw the gun in his hand. Then her head reared back.

“Stop it, Danny!” she shouted. “Stop it right now!”

Dan Snyder lifted the gun slowly and pointed it at his mother.

“DANNY!” ROSE CRIED out. She stepped backwards, her eyes widening behind her glasses.

Dan didn’t move. He kept his arm steady, his gun still pointing at his mother. I wished I would see his face, his eyes, but all I could see was the back of his head.

“Danny,” Rose repeated, this time in a near whisper. Her eyes filled with tears. “What are you doing? I don’t understand this.”

Dan lowered his arm slowly.

“I was trying to find out who killed Sheila,” he mumbled. It was hard to make out his words. His voice was thick, his words slurred. “I didn’t mean…I didn’t mean…”

He never finished his sentence. He slumped to the floor as if someone had dropped him there. His shoulders moved up and down spasmodically. Was he crying? Then I heard the clatter of his gun hitting the floor, and I didn’t care if he was crying.

I sprinted around Zach, toward Dan, toward the gun. But Zach caught on. He reached out a long arm and grabbed me by my shoulder. I spun around, throwing off his hand, and faced him. He moved closer, clenching a fist. I raised my hand and knee simultaneously and felt the satisfying impact of my knee in his groin. My upthrust fingers didn’t jab him in the throat the way they were supposed to. They just grazed his chin. But I didn’t care. He was down and squirming on the floor. I blessed my tai chi teacher as I turned back toward Dan.

I wasn’t the only one who had seen the gun hit the floor. Alice was trotting toward it, amazingly fast on her high heels. Iris was hurrying Dan’s way too. And Barbara had just broken into a run. I took a couple more steps, then gave up the competition, satisfying myself with watching as Alice took the lead. She landed on her knees next to Dan and reached down, scooping up the gun triumphantly.

Then everyone got in the act.

“I’m calling the police,” announced Paula Pierce, hunching her shoulders forward as she took a step toward the phone.

I let myself breathe. Everything was going to be all right.

“How about my dad?” demanded Ken shrilly, kneeling down next to Leo. Leo was sitting up, scowling, his skin color back to normal.

“Perhaps an ambulance too, Paula,” Iris sang out.

In the midst of the confusion, I heard the front door open behind me. I turned just in time to see Zach’s backside disappearing. No one ran after him. Good riddance, I thought.

“Paula, wait a minute,” Alice called out. She stood up, the gun in her hand pointing Paula’s way. My shoulders tightened. Maybe everything wasn’t going to be all right. “There’s no need to call the police. Zach’s split and Dan didn’t mean anything—”

Paula stopped in her tracks and turned toward Alice. Her mouth was tight, her eyes stony. “Are you threatening me, Ms. Frazier?” she asked calmly.

Gary darted across the room to stand in front of his wife. Alice didn’t seem to notice.

“No, of course not,” she answered Paula, but she didn’t lower the gun. “It’s just that I don’t want Dan to get in any trouble. The police are gonna give him a hard time—”

“Don’t worry about it, dear,” Iris interjected quietly. “The San Ricardo police are not monsters. So kind as human beings, many of them. They’ll handle your Dan fairly. They know he’s a grieving husband.”

Alice frowned. Then she looked down at Dan. He was still turned away. And his shoulders were still heaving. It didn’t look as if he was going to give Alice any guidance in the matter.

“A very dear friend of mine used to head the San Ricardo Police Department,” Iris went on, her words forming a soothing melody, far more soothing, I would have guessed, than the police would be once they got their hands on Dan Snyder. “Such a compassionate man he was. I’m sure the new chief is just as kind. They’ll give Dan the help he needs.”

Alice lowered the gun, then turned her head to look at Rose Snyder. Rose was sobbing, great gulping sobs that sounded as hopeless as the situation itself.

“Mrs. Snyder,” Alice prodded her gently. “Whaddaya think? Should we call the police?”

Rose stared at Alice with an expression of cartoon surprise on her face. Her eyebrows arched. Her mouth was shaped in a perfect O. But no sound came out of it.

“Mrs. Snyder,” Alice began again. “What should—”

Rose closed her mouth and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she whispered. She pulled her chenille robe tighter around her body. “I don’t know about anything anymore.” Then she turned and headed back down the hallway, her slippers softly scuffing the floor.

“Wouldn’t you like to give me the gun, dear?” Iris asked brightly. Alice’s heart-shaped face was slack and undecipherable as she stared at Iris. Would she take Iris’s suggestion?

Do it, Alice
, I ordered silently, tensing as I tried to send the mental message. Maybe Barbara wasn’t the only psychic around here.
You don’t want the gun, Alice
, I thought as hard as I could.
Hand it to Iris. Do it. Do it now
.

Alice looked down at the gun for an instant longer, then held it out to Iris, butt first. Had it been something I thought? I held my breath and waited for the moment of transfer.

It wasn’t a long wait. Iris glided forward and reached out her hand slowly, palm up. There was nothing abrupt in her motions, nothing that could startle Alice. Alice placed the gun in Iris’s hand. I sucked in a long, deep breath. It was done. Iris had the gun. Paula continued on her way to the phone. Alice collapsed onto the floor next to Dan.

“All right!” I heard. It took me a moment to realize that I was the one doing the shouting. “All right, Iris!” I shouted again. The relief buzzing through my body was exquisite.

“Right on!” Barbara chimed in. “Way to go!”

A pink flush rose in Iris’s cheeks. She lowered her eyes demurely for a moment, looking truly shy. I could have kissed her. But I didn’t want the gun to go off. Iris lowered it into her purse gingerly. I wondered if it had a safety catch, but before I could ask she had turned back to Alice.

“You did the right thing, dear,” she cooed reassuringly. “Absolutely the right thing. It would have been such a shame if—”

“I hope they lock the two of them up and throw away the key!” Leo bellowed, his face red and ugly now. I supposed it was better than deathly pale. Maybe. “I could have died—”

“Dad, calm down,” Ken said, patting Leo’s shoulder. “You don’t want to have another attack.”

“Are you feeling a bit better?” Iris asked Leo. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I detected a note of mockery in her question.

“I suppose I’m okay,” he muttered ungraciously. He tossed his long black hair out of his face. “No thanks to those punks. I hope they rot.”

“But Dan didn’t mean anything,” Alice protested, on her feet again. Her eyes were wide with sincerity. “It wasn’t Dan’s fault. I’ll bet it was all Zach’s idea. Dan wouldn’t really hurt anyone—”

“He hurt his daughter,” Paula said coolly, back from the phone now.

“But…but that was an accident—”

“Don’t hassle it, Alice,” came Dan’s mutter from the floor. “Okay?” The words sounded thick, waterlogged.

Alice blinked, then knelt down again next to him, whispering urgently. I couldn’t hear her words, but I could guess their general content. Dan Snyder was in a heap of trouble. And he’d better figure out how he was going to handle it. Grief was only going to go so far as an excuse for his behavior.

“Perhaps we could all sit down while we wait?” suggested Iris, breaking into my imminent depression. She smiled winningly. “All this standing can be such a strain.”

She was right. I was tired. Damn tired.

We all sat down at the tables that had been set up for the cooking class. All but Alice, that is. And Dan, of course.

We weren’t a real perky bunch. Ken helped Leo to the table, then sat down next to him. Leo was glowering and muttering under his breath. Something about what he planned to tell the police. Ken sighed and looked down at his hands. He popped one knuckle, then started on the next one. Ugh. I turned my eyes to Paula and Gary. They sat next to each other in silence. Paula’s mouth was tight, her eyes disapproving as she stared at Leo. Gary’s eyes were almost closed. I couldn’t see his hands, but I would have bet one of them was fondling a crystal under the table. It was better than popping his knuckles, anyway. Meg was staring wide-eyed into the space above our heads. She made no effort to organize what was left of her class.

Only Barbara and Iris were smiling. I certainly wasn’t. I felt too shaky and nauseated to manage a smile. True, with the exception of Topaz and possibly Leo, we were all alive and unharmed. But after all the fuss, none of us had learned who Sheila Snyder’s murderer was. Of course the murderer knew his or her own name. And I had a feeling that murderer was somewhere in the room, if not at this very table.

“Well, Meg,” Iris said cheerfully. “Would you like to tell us about the food you’ve planned for tonight?”

“What?” said Meg, lowering her eyes slowly to focus on Iris. Maybe Meg needed Alice to kick-start her. She wasn’t doing too well by herself.

“The food, dear,” Iris prodded, her voice a little too tight to carry off the chatty tone. “Some lovely appetizers as I remember—”

She stopped abruptly. I heard the sound of sirens.

We waited in silence until the police burst into the dining room. They were the same pair as before, the muscular young policewoman, and the tall Hispanic officer who had caught Barbara and me snooping at the back of the restaurant three nights before. Damn. They were both in uniform and they both held guns out in front of them. The hair went up on the back of my neck.

“Who placed the call?” the Hispanic officer demanded.

Paula rose. “I did,” she answered with quiet authority. “Please lower your weapons, Officers. We have had enough of guns for the evening—”

“The punk that attacked us is over there!” bellowed Leo, apparently unable to contain himself. He pointed at Dan, still sitting on the floor with Alice, his back to us. “Arrest him! And find his friend. They tried to kill me—”

“Dan didn’t try to kill anyone!” Alice protested, jumping to her feet. Her face was alive again, lit up with righteousness. Both police officers swung around to face her, guns still raised.

“Perhaps we should start from the beginning, Officers,” Iris suggested mildly. She pulled Dan’s gun from her purse.

“Hold it!” shouted the female officer, turning to point her gun at Iris. Iris froze, Dan’s gun still in her hand, her mouth open with surprise.

“Place the gun on the table, ma’am,” the officer recited slowly.

Iris placed the gun on the table, then smiled. “So silly of me,” she trilled. “I should have warned you.”

“Forget about her!” Leo bawled. “Arrest Snyder! He’s the one. Right over there.”

Dan Snyder stood up and faced the police officers. His eyes were red and swollen. “It’s my gun,” he growled.

The Hispanic policeman sprinted over to Dan. The muscular policewoman holstered her own gun and gingerly picked up the one that Iris had been holding.

“Please do not talk among yourselves,” she warned us. “We will interview each one of you separately—”

The door behind her opened before she could finish. Sergeant Oakley marched in, her rangy body clothed in an emerald-green sweatsuit tonight. Her red hair was tousled. Had she been called in from home? She bared her teeth in a wolf’s smile. I flinched involuntarily.

“Everyone’s here and accounted for, I see,” she commented, her musical voice mild. Her eyes flickered from face to face and then settled on mine. “So whose idea was this little party?” she asked.

I squirmed in my seat, afraid to look over at Barbara. I opened my mouth to answer.

“Arrest that man!” Leo hollered, saving me the trouble. He pointed at Dan Snyder.

“For what?” Oakley inquired softly.

Leo’s jaw dropped for a moment. “For attacking me, for attacking all of us,” he answered finally. His voice grew stronger. “He held a gun on us. A gun! And his punk friend—”

The paramedics bustled through the door before he could finish his speech.

“Heart attack victim?” asked one of them.

Five different fingers pointed to Leo. Leo himself slumped in his chair, looking suddenly ill. So ill that I wondered if he had faked the earlier heart attack.

After a whispered consultation with the paramedics, Oakley allowed them to take Leo away.

Then she turned back to Dan Snyder.

“Take him in the kitchen,” she told the Hispanic officer, the music gone from her voice abruptly. She turned to the rest of us. “Okay, what happened here?”