Organize Your Corpses (33 page)

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a movement on the floor. While we watched openmouthed, Miss Henley’s hand shot forward and grabbed the gun.

“Well,” she said, sitting up, “four miscreants for one. I can see the news headlines now. Badly beaten elderly widow shoots murderous gang in effort to save fellow patients.”

Why had we left the gun there? Why hadn’t we picked it up? How dumb was that? We knew who we were dealing with.

Truffle and Sweet Marie smelled trouble and began to bark.

“I imagine the police will think you four were all in it together,” she said, straightening herself out. “I’ll make it sound plausible.”

“It won’t work,” I said. “Too many people know.”

She ignored me. Maybe the blow from the vase had affected her hearing. The dogs raced toward her barking and snapping. She turned to fend them off. Perhaps that’s why she didn’t react immediately to the sound of the motor. Gabe’s face contorted as the wheelchair hurtled across the carpet. Miss Henley jerked her head away from the dogs and toward the wheelchair. Too late. I leapt forward and knocked the gun from her hand just before the wheelchair hit her, full force.

Lilith hugged the shaking figure in the chair and wept. “Good for you, Gabe. Good for you.”

This time it was really over. I grabbed the dogs and collapsed into Jack’s arms. And Sally’s arms too, of course.

Outside the open French door, I saw the first police car squeal to a stop. From the safety of our group hug, we watched Pepper step out.

21

Jack opened the door to his new shop to me and my dogs. “Hey, that bruise on your chin is clearing up. Your teeth look great,” he said.

“They should,” I said. “They cost enough.”

“Money well spent.”

“You’re right. It’s a good thing And your eye is less swollen and your nose looks like it will be okay soon. No one will be able to tell Dominic clobbered you with a board. I’m so glad we’re getting past all that terrible stuff. It was a fabulous idea to have a preopening party for CYCotics.”

Jack said, “But it was your idea.”

“It was fabulous anyway. Speaking of fabulous, I brought the chilled champagne and the chocolate truffles. And I have champagne glasses in the Miata. You can help me with those.”

Jack said, “Excellent. But plastic would be fine, just this once.”

I shuddered, thinking of plastic glasses for champagne. “Please, it’s the least I can do. Anyway, they’re from the Dollar Do! Margaret called to say she’d be along shortly. Apparently she has an endless source of Ben & Jerry’s, and she said we can count on it. I brought dishes and spoons. Benjamin’s going to pop in with the kids for ice cream. And Sally is picking up Rose.” I looked around the cycle shop. “I suppose we should find them somewhere to sit.”

Jack looked around and frowned. “Sit?”

The large, shaggy unspecified breed of dog that had been sniffing around sat on command.

I said, “Good boy, Schopenhauer. You sure showed up the resident brats.” Truffle and Sweet Marie, who are familiar with the word “sit,” ignored the comment as well as the command. Big surprise.

Jack said, “Isn’t he great? And look at how well he sits.”

I said, “He’s magnificent. But since most of the people at this preparty party are no longer teenagers, you’ll find they prefer not to sit on the floor. I’m just saying.”

Jack said, “If you’re talking about Rose, I can restack some boxes, I guess. You think she’ll mind?”

“Stack enough for all the girls. Have a chocolate truffle. It will help you cope.”

“Mmm. Kristee’s finest. How’s she taking things?”

“Being Kristee, she’ll be bitter about losing her best client. That bothered her a whole lot more than all the death and destruction Miss Henley caused.”

“You think she suspected all along? When Hellfire left instructions that Olivia get her favorite kind of chocolates every week?”

“I can’t let myself think about that,” I said.

“We’ll never know everything, will we?”

“No. I’ve been waking up nights and wondering about so many things. Like Olivia’s husband and children. Helen was supposed to be away at college, but now that we know the lengths she would go to, maybe she came back. She was a strong swimmer, and now that we know about what a psychopath she is, well, it makes you think.”

Jack said, “Don’t think.”

“You’re right. Not tonight anyway. Tonight is for being happy,” I said. “Let’s just celebrate.”

Jack’s face lit up. “This place is something, isn’t it?”

I glanced around at the space full of bikes, helmets, accessories, and other gear. “All that coverage on WINY will be good for your business. I still can’t believe you’re opening tomorrow. It all happened so fast.”

“That Lilith was amazing. She can move like the wind, and she has a real feel for bikes. I’d give her a job here any day.”

“I’m glad she’s back taking care of Gabe and finishing her courses. Speaking of Gabe, I hear he’s pretty excited about getting out to his first party in years. Stone Wall Farm might be fancy, but it has no nightlife. That might change under the new administration. I’m glad that the ice queen got the boot.”

“Gabe’s amazing. Guy’s in a wheelchair and manages to knock over a killer and save all our lives. Of course, he had a nice distraction thanks to Truffle and Sweet Marie. Man, he sure had a major hate on for Hellfire.”

“Don’t call me
man
, Jack. Sally’s pulling up with Rose now.”

“You think Rose will like Schopenhauer?”

“Pretty sure she will. Rose is allergic to cats, but not dogs. Miss Henley knew that too.”

Jack said, “Big dog like Schopenhauer will be good company and protection for her. With Lilith moving in upstairs, Schopie will get his walks too.”

“And with Lilith in the house, Rose will be able to stay in her home for years.”

The door opened. Sally and Rose arrived, Sally shrieking. Rose was resplendent with freshly blue hair and a black jogging suit with shiny silver stars on it. She carried a tray of Toll House cookies. Margaret followed them through the door with a cooler. Behind them, I could see the Stone Wall Farm van pull up. Lilith got busy letting down the ramp for Gabe. Gabe’s wheelchair had balloons attached to it.

All three dogs began to bark.

Jack popped the cork on the champagne and turned to Margaret. “I don’t suppose you know anyone who wants a nice little grey cat?”

I guess we were back to normal. As normal as it gets.

Mary Jane Maffini
is a lapsed librarian, a former mystery bookseller, and a previous president of Crime Writers of Canada. In addition to creating the Charlotte Adams series, she is the author of the Camilla MacPhee Mysteries, the Fiona Silk series, and nearly two dozen mystery short stories. She has won two Arthur Ellis awards for short fiction, and
The Dead Don’t Get Out Much
, her latest Camilla MacPhee Mystery, was nominated for a Barry Award in 2006. She lives in Ottawa, Ontario, with her long-suffering husband and two miniature dachshunds.