Ник Сайнт - Purrfect Alibi

“I’m only telling you for your own protection, Mrs. Ackerman. Trey killed his father and I’m afraid your life may be in danger as well. Which is the real reason I came here.”

Angelique stared at her for a long moment, then suddenly burst into laughter.

“Oh, you’re such a naive little wench, aren’t you, Miss Poole? Trey—come back here!”

“No!” Odelia said, jumping up from the chair. But Angelique pushed her back down.

“You’re not going anywhere!” the woman snapped, and suddenly Odelia discovered that she was holding a small silver revolver in her hand, with the barrel pointed at her heart.

“Silly, silly girl,” said Trey, who’d come up behind her and now placed his hands on her shoulders. “Did you really think I’d go to all this trouble without talking to my dear, sweet mother first?”

“Trey adores his mother, don’t you, Trey?” asked Angelique, still pointing that revolver at Odelia. “So when he saw that I was suffering such terrible abuse at the hands of his father, he suggested we do something about it. And so the plan was hatched, and carried out to perfection.”

“Thank you, mother,” said Trey appreciatively.

“You should have burned that outfit, though.”

“Beginner’s mistake?” said Trey, a smile sneaking up his pale face.

“It doesn’t matter. We’ll be out of here and on our way to Mexico before these silly little small-town cops put it all together,” said Angelique. She directed a mocking look at Odelia. “Of course I knew Chris didn’t leave me a single penny. He told me. Which is exactly the reason we emptied out his bank accounts last week, transferring all of his money into an account Trey set up in the Cayman Islands. I had to pay Chris’s accountant a hefty sum but it was definitely worth it. Chris was the one who didn’t have a penny, not me. If he was going to leave me for that stupid editor of his I was going to make him pay. Big time.”

“Let me guess. You left Chris that night, making sure you were seen,” said Odelia, “only for Trey to return later, dressed as a pizza guy. Where did you get the outfit?”

“Stole it from some local pizza parlor that same night,” said Trey. “Easy peasy.”

“Weren’t you afraid to get caught?”

“Nah. Nobody pays attention to the pizza guy. I could just as well have been invisible. I saw that Drood creep on my way out, but I quickly ducked into an empty room and waited him out.” He chuckled—a terrifying sound. “I figured he’d make a perfect scapegoat and he did.”

“Too bad about the outfit,” said his mother.

“Can’t be helped, Mom. If I’d burned it, someone would have seen.”

“You could have brought it back here. We could have disposed of it together.”

“What’s done is done. Next time we plan a murder we’ll pay more attention to the details.” A slow smile crept up his pale face. “So how do you want to die, Miss Poole?”

Chapter 43

Odelia sat trussed up in the small bedroom. Two piglets were staring at her. Unfortunately for her she could speak feline but she couldn’t speak pig. Not that it mattered, for her mouth was taped up with heavy-duty electrical tape and her hands and feet were tied up as well. She’d read somewhere that pigs have very sharp teeth, so they could have set to work freeing her of her restraints. Instead, they just sat there on the bed staring.

She sincerely hoped that Trey Ackerman had been kidding when he told her that parting gag about murdering her. She did not feel like dying, especially now that her life was slowly coming together. Chase was moving in, her cats were all in good health, and she still had both her parents and her crazy grandmother.

Speaking of Gran, she suddenly thought she heard her voice.

Then the door was thrust open and Gran came walking in! More accurately put, Gran came flying in, landed on the floor and then the door was closed behind her.

“Hey, you brute!” Gran cried, balling her fists. Then she spotted her granddaughter. “Odelia! There you are! I thought they’d already filleted you like a fish.”

She crawled to an upright position and crossed the room.

“Are those pigs?” she asked.

“Get me out of this tape!” Odelia cried. Though it sounded more like, “Wepmeouoheeape!” It’s tough to enunciate clearly when your lips are taped up.

“Hold your horses,” said Gran. “I’m getting there. This tape is pretty sticky.”

It took the old woman a while, but finally she managed to yank the tape off.

“Owowoowwww!” Odelia cried.

“Oh, don’t be a baby. Just think of it as a lip waxing. Saves you the trouble to do it yourself. Now how the hell did you get mixed up with those murdering bozos?”

“I could ask you the same thing!” said Odelia, removing the tape from her around her feet.

“I came here to save you, little missy. I didn’t think they’d have a frickin’ gun.”

“You should have called Uncle Alec. Or Chase. Now we’re both going to die.”

“I don’t think so. When I arrived they were packing up. I think they’re moving out.”

“Trey asked me how I wanted to die!”

“He was probably kidding. He looks like a kidder.”

“Gran, he dressed up like a pizza guy then killed his own father in cold blood.”

“Yeah, well, that wasn’t nice,” Gran admitted.

“We’ve got to get out of here. Let’s check the windows.”

They checked the windows. The room they were in was located on the second floor facing the back wall of another building. Too high to jump, and no one in sight they could shout for help at.

“Terrible view,” said Gran. “If I were the Ackermans I’d have lodged a complaint. Who wants to look at that horrible wall all the time?”

“I’m sure they don’t mind!”

“And I’m sure they do. Even killers mind about stuff like that, honey.”

“New plan. I’ll hide behind the door, and when they come in to kill us I’ll rush them!”

“They won’t come in. They’ll pack up and get out of here and by the time housekeeping finds us they’ll be long gone and on their way to Mexico.”

Odelia had to admit her grandmother was probably right. Why add two more murders to their resume when they could simply flee and live out their lives spending Chris Ackerman’s millions?

She sank down on the bed, causing the two piglets to bob up and down.

“They are pigs,” said Gran, taking a seat next to her. “How about that?”

“Hurry up, will you?!” Angelique shouted. “If they catch us they’ll put us in jail and throw away the key.”

“Relax, Mom. They won’t catch us.” Trey gestured with his head to the connecting door. “What about those two?”

“Leave them.”

“We could shut them up forever.”

“When did you suddenly turn into a character from a Quentin Tarantino movie?”

“I guess it’s true what they say about murder. You develop a taste for it.”

“Yeah, well, better develop a taste for escape. I want to go now!”

Suddenly he pricked up his ears. “Do you hear that?”

There was a sound outside unlike anything he’d ever heard. It tickled his funny bone. It sounded like Ed Sheeran but not. More like someone was murdering the ginger singer.

“I love that song,” he said. “But whoever is singing it clearly hates it.”

He moved over to the window and looked out. Down below, some musclebound moron was belting out the notes like nobody’s business. He didn’t seem to care that traffic had ground to a halt and that people were leaning out of their windows to gawk at him. Hecklers were shouting abuse at the guy and children pelted him with rocks but he just kept on singing, oblivious.