Лори Касс - Tailing A Tabby

Karringer made one more try to wriggle out from under the golf cart, but Cade stepped forward, raising the gun. I grabbed a rock from the nearest flower bed and Karringer fell back, giving up.

Trap Two was Tremendous.

Chapter 21

The next morning, I’d given Kristen the short version of the previous evening’s events, but she hadn’t had time for the full-length story.

“Stupid restaurant,” she’d muttered. “Why can’t I have a Monday-through-Friday job like everybody else?”

“You did, remember? You hated it.”

“Oh, yeah.” Her smile came through the phone. “I did, didn’t I?”

We scheduled a confab on the marina’s patio, and I headed up to the boardinghouse for the last of the big summer breakfasts.

Come Sunday afternoon, Kristen and Eddie and I were comfortably sprawled out in the warm sun. Kristen and her long legs, which were somehow deeply tanned in spite of her long hours at the restaurant, were stretched across two chairs that she’d dragged together. Eddie and I were sharing a glider love seat that, for the first time all summer, was not squeaking on the forward glide. Either Chris had finally remembered to oil it or the people in the closest boat slip had done it themselves.

“Spill,” Kristen said lazily, her face lifted to the sun. “Top to bottom.”

So I did. She’d known bits of it before, but now I told her everything. I told her about Barb calling me when Cade had been questioned by the police, told her about my promise to Cade, told her about the accidents and the various possible implications, told her about Greg Plassey and Trock Farrand and Hugo Edel and Carissa’s friend Jari. I told her about the traps, about the weekends, and about Eddie being on the roof and saving the day. I did not tell her about the rabbits.

Kristen turned toward me and opened one eye. “So it was the Weasel?”

I nodded. “Brett Karringer. After the police got there, he wouldn’t stop talking. That Deputy…” I paused. “Ash Wolverson, do you know him?”

Kristen shook her head, which meant Wolverson wasn’t from Chilson. I felt a small bleat of disappointment; I’d been a little curious about the man. “Anyway, after the police showed up, Brett confessed to everything. It was kind of weird, actually.”

It had been very weird. Uncomfortable didn’t begin to explain how I’d felt, stuck there until the police gave me permission to go, having to listen to Brett Karringer talk on and on as if he’d never stop.

“I love her so much,” he’d said. “It was the worst torture to see her throwing herself at those older guys. She was the love of my life. Maybe she didn’t know it, but she would have, I know she would have. All I had to do was show her how much I loved her, that’s all.”

At that point, Deputy Wolverson had pulled him to his uninjured feet. The effort didn’t stop Brett from talking.

“I knew I had to do something after I saw her picture with you on Facebook.” He practically spat at Cade. “She was seeing way too much of you. I couldn’t let that keep happening.”

Cade murmured something indistinguishable and Deputy Wolverson made enough of an encouraging noise that Karringer kept going.

“Yeah, I’ve been one of her Facebook friends for years, not that she knew it was me,” he said, smirking. “I just tracked down a yearbook from her high school, found some guy who wasn’t on Facebook, and signed up to be him. She friended me right away, asking if I was still dating Mimi Martin.”

He laughed at his own cleverness.

I shivered.

“The way she posted stuff online,” Karringer went on, “it was the easiest thing ever to see what she was up to. I can’t believe some of the stuff she posted. I mean, if someone was out to get her, it would have been a piece of cake to track her down.” He shook his head, then grinned at Cade. “That phone call I made got you to come running, didn’t it?”

I glanced over. Cade was staring at Karringer with an expression that I couldn’t quite interpret, and wasn’t sure I wanted to.

Karringer tried to point at Cade. His movements were now restricted by the handcuffs that the deputy had placed around his wrists. “I’m the one who really loved her. Not you, not Plassey, not Farrand, not Edel, not anyone. Me! I was the one!”

He stopped, blew out a few guttural breaths, then slid into a kind of whine. “I had to take care of all those guys she posted about on Facebook. I thought those accidents would be just the ticket, but none of them worked the way they should have. I knew I’d have to try again, so I got a gun, but I had to lie low after Carissa. Didn’t want to make it look too obvious, you know?”

“You did something to Greg’s ladder, didn’t you?” I asked.

Karringer chuckled. “Big expensive fence he put up doesn’t do much good when he gives the code to all his friends. Pretty smart of me to be his friend, huh? I figured that was the way to go after threatening Edel didn’t work. Telling Farrand to keep his hands off didn’t work, either.”

He’d shaken his head. “All those old guys, it didn’t make sense for Carissa to be with them. It wasn’t right, you know? I had to stop her from wasting her life. I wanted to kill you worst of all.” Karringer had nodded at Cade. “But I couldn’t work out how, not if I wanted to set you up for Carissa’s murder.”

“Sorry about that,” Cade had said dryly.

“Yeah, me, too.” Karringer had shrugged as the deputy guided him into the back of the police car. “Sometimes things just don’t work out the way you want.”

And sometimes they did. I’d used my cell phone to record every bit of Karringer’s confession, and had promptly sent the digital file to Detectives Devereaux and Inwood. Almost as promptly, Detective Inwood had called to thank me, saying it would help build the case against Karringer.

“Really?” I asked.

“Everything helps,” Inwood said. “Even if he pleads out, it speeds things up when the bad guy knows he was caught on tape, dead to rights. So, thank you.”

“Oh. Well, you’re welcome, then.”

“How did Wolverson do?” Inwood had asked.

Do what? I’d wondered.

“You knew that Don and I have been training Wolverson up to detective, didn’t you?”

Not sure how I could have known that since no one had told me, but whatever. “He did just fine,” I’d said.

Inwood had gone on to describe the college courses Wolverson would be taking, and when we hung up, I knew more than I’d thought I ever would about the requirements for becoming a detective in the Tonedagana Sheriff’s Office.

Kristen reached out for a potato chip and scooped it deep into the ultrafancy dip I’d slapped together half an hour earlier: dried onion soup mix in a container of sour cream.

While she concentrated on getting all the dip into her mouth without dropping any on her shirt, I thought back to the conversation I’d had yesterday with Cade. The aide who’d lied about his whereabouts the night of the murder had been put on suspension, but Cade had made a stand for her and she would keep her job.

Plus, Cade was going to contact Carissa’s family and tell them he’d like to donate a painting to Carissa’s favorite charity for a fund-raising auction, and that they could choose any painting currently on display anywhere in the world for the donation.

I told this to Kristen. “What’s the charity?” she asked.

“You’re not going to believe it.”

“Society for the Advancement of Mincemeat?”

“You make the weirdest guesses ever. No, her mother said her favorite thing as a kid was visiting the library. When Cade told her there’s a wonderful library in Chilson, she said that would be the perfect memorial.” I looked over at Kristen. “Are you crying?”