Chapter 16
If I had a nickel for every time older women tried to kill me in a property owned by Benjamin Witte, I’d have two nickels which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it’s happened twice.
Gwendolyn kept her tiny gun trained on me as I locked the front door and put Muffin in the kitchen, closing the rarely-used pocket door behind me. “Now,” she said once I’d flipped the little latch on the kitchen door, “Take me to whichever room as a locking interior door.”
“Sounds like you’ve given this some thought.”
Her smile was brittle and beautiful. “When I was younger, I was known for being quite good at improv. This past week has shown me you never really forget those skills.”
“Yes, and?”
She narrowed her eyes, obviously not appreciating the joke.
“Pamela was always the softest of us. The kindest. She’s.
.. simple. Oh, I don’t mean that in a derogatory way.
I mean it in the best possible way. All Pamela wanted in life was to be happy, to take care of others. And Gerald was just the opposite.”
“How is framing me for arson and now killing me going to help Pamela?”
“As soon as she knew Gerry was dead, Pamela got antsy. She wanted to turn herself in. What good would that do? We’re not young women anymore, you know.
Spend the rest of her life in jail, and for what?
For Gerry? He doesn’t deserve that sacrifice.
Not after the shit he’s pulled. Bad enough that I couldn’t stop Beth from paying off his debts—she said it was the least she could do.
” She shook her head sharply, iron gray curls bouncing.
“You’re young. You’ve got a history. And if nothing else, it would buy us time.
Give Pammy time to get herself together. Give me time to get her to see reason.”
“And I’d be a good suspect because of Ms. Rhoades. Because enough people thought...”
Gwendolyn sucked her teeth in annoyance.
“Not just her. People know your history with Gerry. You’re getting to be quite the gossip staple these days, Damien.
The right whisper, the right word on the right comment section and you’d be number one with a bullet.
No pun intended,” she cackled, a dry and brittle sound.
My mouth hurt, it was so dry. How fast can I dial for help? My phone was wedged into my pocket, of course on my casted side. Could I get it out before she noticed? Or maybe dial in my pocket? Crap, which way is up? Where is the emergency button at this angle? “Of course.”
“You’re a little desperate,” she said, rocking on her heels like she wanted to pace, to chew up the scenery, but fighting the urge.
“But Gerry? Oh, lord, he was desperate. And lazy as the day is long. He’d been working the con since last spring, signing no-names and desperate has-beens here and there, getting funding from a few indie studios, a grant once, but word was getting around.
People aren’t as dumb as Gerry liked to think. ”
“The movie,” I said softly. “It wasn’t real, was it? He lied to Anmorata. I was sure—pretty much up until this morning—that she’d killed Tubbs. Or was at least involved in his death. The fight, her disappearing the same night he died...” It had made sense, I thought.
She chuckled. “And now?”
“You already know.”
She pursed her lips, glancing back down the hall behind her with a frown. “Who else is here?”
“Me, the dogs, Charlemagne.” No use in lying to her.
What good would it do me at this point? And it wouldn’t take much for her to figure out I’d tried to put one over on her if I told her Ben was home and we weren’t alone.
With the way she was holding that gun so assuredly, I didn’t want to chance pissing her off.
“He needed money,” she rasped, the gun twitching in her hand.
“Gerry lied to everyone but especially himself. He’d pay it back.
He’d strike it big. He didn’t owe that much.
.. He’d run through everything. His inheritance, his savings, credit maxed out, friends—ha!
—people he called friends tapped dry. Except for Beth.
” She worried her lower lip for just a second, a flash of insecurity, of uncertainty, before schooling her expression back into sterner lines.
“That boat was the last thing he owned worth any real money. When he heard you lived here now, he seized the chance. Play up your connection, show what a good guy he was now, hiring you on when you’re at such a low point.
You’re desperate, too,” she teased cruelly.
“We’ve all been there, Damien. Just some of us don’t linger as long as others. ”
“He wanted to make the movie about her death... Or was it just a ploy to get his hands on some of her estate? He’d faxed some paperwork to a law firm in Los Angeles. One that specializes in probate.”
Gwendolyn’s cheeks flagged red. “Even dead, she was worth money to that bastard. Pamela was inconsolable when she found out. Beth had a clause... We all did. It was a joke, something silly one weekend in Big Bear over wine coolers and hash. A clause to allow our estates to fund a single biopic no less than twenty years after our deaths, not more than fifty. Pamela had changed hers a few years ago—we were laughing about it at some fan convention. Gerry...” She closed her eyes for just a second, pain and anger washing over her face.
“I guess he thought it was his ticket. Beth had been dead over a decade by then. Hell, over two.” Gwendolyn’s eyes snapped open as I shifted my weight, trying to slip my fingers into my hip pocket. “Sit down!”
Gun aimed at my face again, I shakily eased into the seat behind Ben’s desk, keeping my hands where she could see them.
Her gaze darted around the room, lips twisting in annoyance.
“If you move, I will shoot you in the head, do you understand me?” She didn’t wait for me to so much as nod before she was moving around the room, yanking plugs out of the wall and destroying anything electronic, anything I could use to call for help.
She motioned me to hand her my phone. “It’s in your pocket. Don’t act coy.”
“I just got this replaced,” I sighed, setting it down on the desk. Maybe I could arrange with the shop in Malm’s Corner, if I survived, to start purchasing in bulk.
Gwendolyn patted the back of my cast with her free hand.
“Well, you won’t be needing it, will you?
This is what we’re going to do, Damien. You’re going to make a name for yourself.
The fame you keep missing out on will finally be yours.
You’ll have a legacy. And I’ll be a free woman because you,” she gasped, pressing her hand to her stomach and closing her eyes, a picture-perfect display of shock and despair.
“You tried to kill me, Damien. I came to talk to you about the movie Gerry had mentioned. Pamela and I were going to take over the project Gerald left behind. To honor both him and Beth. But you...” she sighed, shaking er head sadly.
“You just snapped. You were irate, refusing to work with us, refusing to touch anything Gerald had a hand in.”
“I hate to admit it, but that sounds believable to anyone who doesn’t know me.”
“And a lot of people don’t know you, Damien. More’s the pity, really. You had so much potential. Should we make a movie about you one day?”
“I don’t think you’d get much pull at the box office,” I quipped, eyeing my phone in her hand. If I moved just a little bit, maybe feigned a leg cramp or something, I might be able to reach it. Get hold of it just long enough to hit the emergency call button.
Gwendolyn smirked, tucking my phone into her cleavage. “I’m not going to villain monologue.”
“You already are.” The door hadn’t closed all the way behind her when she followed me in here.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see it move.
Wild hope flared in my chest—Ben home early?
—but died just as quickly. We’d only just texted less than an hour ago.
Even if I’d told him to come home then, driving at top speed with zero traffic and all green lights, he wouldn’t be in Lester Cove by now.
Heath maybe? But no, the front door was locked.
I didn’t dare turn my head to look. Gwendolyn was watching me with a curious, almost tender look on her face.
“Are you feeling guilty now?” I asked softly.
“Feeling bad about deciding to kill someone who didn’t deserve it? ”
“Do you think Tubbs deserved to die?” she asked suddenly, turning my question on its head. “He was an awful, awful man. He made people miserable his entire life. One of his last acts on this earth was breaking a young woman’s heart just to get his rocks off.”
“I don’t think anyone deserves to die, not like this.
” Though right now I don’t think I’d be too upset about someone getting cold cocked.
“Why did you think it was okay for him to die?” I’d watched enough reality shows on the ID channel to know that keeping your potential killer talking would not only buy you time but also humanize you in their eyes.
Or sometimes catastrophically backfire and get you killed.
The door moved again, barely a bump, someone peering in and listening, I thought.
Please let it be Heath if it’s not Ben. Hell, even nosy Moon sisters at this point! Someone to call for help.
“Beth died,” she murmured, gaze going distant and soft.
Her thumb stroked the hammer on the gun almost absentmindedly.
“He knew what happened and just... held it. Didn’t say a word for years.
Years! Years, Damien! He knew. And saved it up.
Waited until he needed to use Beth one more time.
He stayed in our little circle, all this time!
None of us liked him, you know. But the devil you know, I suppose.
He was always there, always part of us..
.” She made a face at that thought, disgusted. “I’ve always hated the asshole.”