Chapter 19

I ranto the door and saw a figure slip into the bushes at the side of the house. I yelled, “Intruder,” before bolting outside. They must have heard my battle cry because their footsteps turned into a frantic run. Not that it mattered. Most criminals were not going to best me in a footrace. I burst through the bushes and tackled the fleeing woman, realizing exactly who it was as I connected with her.

Holly Beech.

The girl flailed around as I sat on her back, the ice pick she had been holding a few feet away.

“Stop moving or I twist your neck and break it,” I said. I wouldn’t, of course, but she didn’t know that.

She brought her hands in to cover her face and all movement ceased, except for soft sobbing.

“What in the world?” Ronald’s voice sounded behind me, and I turned to see him stroll through the damaged bushes, and unfortunately, he had not paused to put on pants or a trench coat before following me outside.

“You’re out here in your underwear and you’re wondering about me tackling an intruder?” I asked.

He put his hands on his hips and glared. “This is a superhero costume. I am The Fashionista!”

“You are seconds away from being arrested,” I said as I heard sirens in the distance. “Because I’m pretty sure that is illegal in Sinful, especially on Easter Sunday.”

Ronald’s eyes widened and he whirled around, ready to stalk back to his house, but he was too late. Carter’s truck pulled up to the curb and he jumped out and hurried our way. Instead of blending back into the bush for cover, Ronald froze and stood there, in all his purple-clad underwear glory.

Carter had his gaze fixed on mine as he rushed up, but when he was a couple steps away, he caught sight of Ronald, and I swear some of the blood rushed from his face.

“What the heck is going on here?” he asked.

“There was a problem with my dress,” Ronald explained. “And then an intruder.”

“Good God!” Carter said. “It’s Easter. The least you can do is pull an Adam and Eve and hide behind a bush or something. That’s not a dress, and whatever it is, I’m pretty sure it’s illegal.”

“Told you,” I said.

Ronald opened his mouth to protest, then must have thought better of it, because he turned and stalked back through the bushes. I hoped he was on his way to find more clothes because no way Carter was taking his statement dressed that way. Heck, I was considering putting my house up for sale just knowing he was currently inside his own house dressed that way.

“They don’t pay me enough,” Carter said as he studied my situation. “Please tell me you grabbed that ice pick on the way out the front door.”

“I don’t even own an ice pick, I just use my pistol,” I said.

He held his hands up. “I should have known better. Do you know the intruder? And why was she breaking into your house?”

“Not my house, Ronald’s—and yeah, I know her. So do you.” I reached down and pulled Holly’s hand away from her face.

Carter gave me a stricken look and closed his eyes for a moment. I was pretty sure he was contemplating resigning his position and fleeing the state. I didn’t exactly blame him.

“I refuse to get off her until you break out the handcuffs,” I said. “And you might want to bag that ice pick.”

Twenty minutes later, Myrtle was processing the ice pick and giving Holly the side-eye. She wasn’t the only one. Deputy Breaux had just returned from breaking up a brawl over the last biscuit at Bomber Bruce’s house, and when he stepped inside and got a look at Holly wearing cuffs, I wondered for a moment if he was going to lock himself in the bathroom again. But since Carter stepped out of his office at that moment and caught sight of him, he’d missed his opportunity.

His shoulders slumped. “Do you need help, boss?” he asked.

Carter nodded. “Call her brother and let him know I’m arresting his sister for breaking and entering and threatening Fortune with a deadly weapon.”

Deputy Breaux stared, clearly confused.

“The threat doesn’t have to be viable for it to be illegal,” Carter said.

“Right, of course,” Deputy Breaux said and headed for his desk.

Carter turned and pointed to Holly. “You are going to a cell, unless you’d like to tell me why you broke into Mr. Franklin’s home?”

It must have finally registered with the girl that she was in trouble but apparently, she refused to understand just how much.

“I don’t even know him,” she said. “I was after her.”

Then she glared at me as if somehow I was the problem.

“She must have been watching and saw me go into Ronald’s house after my jog,” I said. “The door wasn’t locked, and I didn’t knock because he’d told me to come right in.”

“So she assumed it was your house,” Carter finished. “Which doesn’t make it any better. Why are you stalking Ms. Redding?”

Holly pursed her lips like a petulant child.

“My guess is she was hoping to kill me like she did her sister,” I said.

The blood rushed from her face. “I did not kill Lindsay.”

“So you say, but you were in love with Ryan. You probably figured if Lindsay was gone, you’d have him all to yourself.”

“I was—I didn’t—” she stammered, but it was clear I’d called it correctly. “I couldn’t have killed her. She was my sister.”

“But you don’t think Ryan killed her either.”

“I’m certain he didn’t.”

“Why? Because he loved her so much?”

She clamped her mouth shut and shook her head, but I could tell she was done talking.

Deputy Breaux walked back over. “Jared Beech is on his way with their attorney. He said you are not to question her until he’s present, and that if you do, he’ll sue you for harassing someone with diminished mental capacity.”

He delivered that last sentence with a nervous glance at Holly, but she looked completely unfazed. I imagine, given her lack of control, that she’d heard that line of defense before.

“Then please take her to a cell,” Carter directed.

Deputy Breaux looked less than thrilled, but he wasn’t about to suggest to his boss that he handle the woman who’d just come to town to kill his girlfriend. Even if there was less than zero chance it would have happened.

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

Carter blew out a breath. “Given the situation, I don’t think I have any choice but to ask questions about Lindsay’s death. But I’m also going to assume they have an excellent attorney who will convince her to say nothing.”

“How long can you hold her?”

“Not long. Maybe not at all. Did you see her in Ronald’s house?”

“No, but the door was open, and I’m certain I’d closed it.”

“But it’s still your word against hers.”

“I see. So she showed up here just to walk through Ronald’s bushes holding an ice pick?”

“Of course not, but you know a good defense attorney would tear that apart in minutes citing speculation and that with her diminished mental capacity, we can’t know intent.”

I snorted. “I swear, I understand vigilante justice more every day. Basically, someone has to die before our system takes things seriously, and even then, they still get it wrong. Look at Ryan.”

“Do you think Holly killed her sister?”

“I was already leaning that way. At this point, she’s top of my list.”

* * *

Carter took my statement,then told me to head home and if I was feeling generous, check in on Ronald. I wasn’t certain how much generosity I had left, but since most people weren’t used to having randos break into their homes with ice picks, I figured I could at least stop by and make sure he hadn’t rung up Gertie to borrow one of her handbags.

I just hoped he was dressed. For real dressed.

He cracked the door a tiny bit after I rang the bell, and I heard his sigh of relief as he removed the chain and swung the door back. Thankfully, he was decked out in a three-piece suit and pink fuzzy slippers.

“You’re a little overdressed for TV and after-dinner drinks,” I said as he waved me inside.

“I thought I’d have to give a police statement.”

“They don’t require you to wear a suit for it. At least, I don’t think they do. You know what—they might. It’s Sinful, after all.”

Ronald sank onto the couch, and I perched on his coffee table. I wasn’t planning on staying long. I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t freaking out and then I was going to head home for a much-needed shower and a stiff drink.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“You’re going to have to be more specific. My shoe is ruined and I’m going to have to find a new dress for the event because that one is clearly not suited for stairs. A crazy woman came into my home with an ice pick for God only knows what intent, and half the block has seen my undergarments. Today has been a lot.”

I nodded. I felt the same way.

“What happened with that woman?” he asked. “Please tell me she’s chained inside a cell somewhere with no access to anything pointed or metal.”

“She was in a cell when I left, but her brother is on the way with their attorney. They’re already claiming diminished mental capacity.”

“Like that wasn’t apparent. But if she wasn’t aware that she was in the wrong, she wouldn’t have run.”

“Also true. I gave my statement to Carter. He said he’d contact you tomorrow to get yours.”

“But what did she want?”

“I’m pretty sure she was coming after me.”

He sucked in a breath. “She has a death wish? Good Lord, get her out of town.”

“I think she’s decided that Carter is going to be her boyfriend and she thought she’d eliminate the competition.”

“We all know how that would have turned out, so why are you frowning?”

“Because I’m pretty sure I’m not the first person she’s gone after over a man. I think she killed her sister.”

Ronald’s eyes widened and he gulped. “You’re serious? Of course you’re serious. Good Lord, I just thought she was crazy like Nora, maybe even smoking the same weed, but you’re saying she’s actually clinically disturbed.”

“It’s a very real possibility. Unfortunately, there’s another man in prison, serving a life sentence for her sister’s murder, and I’m certain he didn’t do it. I’ve got a couple potential suspects but I’m currently leaning hard toward her.”

“Sounds right to me, and I barely know anything. So what’s the problem?”

“Extremely rich family. Insulated from most everything. And since this isn’t the first time she’s exhibited less-than-desirable behavior, I have a feeling her attorney and the health system are going to wrap her up like a prize vase.”

“And you’re afraid the poor sod in prison won’t get out.” He sighed. “That sucks. You know, I really appreciate what you do to help people, but I can see how it would be a total drag on your own mental health.”

I nodded. “If you’re all right, I’m going to head home and hit the shower.”

“Of course. Let me know if there’s anything I can do. And I know I didn’t get to say it earlier but thank you for helping me with the dress situation.”

I managed a smile. “You know, you’re giving Gertie a run for her money.”

“Hush your mouth! I am so much better dressed when I have a fluke.”

I was still laughing as I walked into my house.

* * *

Gertie and IdaBelle insisted on coming by to check on me after I called and told them the basics of what had happened with Holly. Gertie brought slices of roast beef and potato salad, and we all dug in while I went through everything, including Ronald and his dress escapade. Both of them were howling when I described Ronald’s Fashionista outfit, but immediately sobered when I got to the part about Holly and the ice pick.

We discussed the situation from every angle possible, but no matter which direction we started, we always ended up back at the same place. We all believed Holly had killed her sister. They took off a couple hours later, and after an extremely long shower and a couple shots of the whiskey Ida Belle had brought over, I settled into my recliner to wait for Carter.

He finally showed around 11:00 p.m. and I couldn’t help but feel agitated at how exhausted he looked. He didn’t need this hassle from the Beech family. Not with everything else he was already dealing with. And I felt guilty for introducing them into his existence. Not that it was really my fault, but it was only because of me that Holly Beech had discovered him.

He sank onto the couch, and I retrieved him a beer, which he opened silently and took a big swig from. Then he shook his head and slowly let out a breath.

“That bad, huh?” I said, desperate to break the tension.

“It went exactly like I thought it would. Jared Beech showed up with his attorney—and he’s a doozy. Not Alexander, but right up there in his line of work.”

“Which is?”

“Criminal defense and strictly on grounds of mental incompetence. The guy was a psychiatrist. Who the hell is going to argue against a defense attorney who’s an actual doctor? Anyway, he showed up with paperwork to have Holly committed on a psych hold and that was that. And what would be the point in protesting? The girl is clearly troubled, and there is no way this is the first time she’s done something like this. He produced that paperwork like he had it ready to go. I got a glimpse of her file in his briefcase, and it was thick.

“Did you even get to question her?”

“Why bother? Her attorney and her brother had already told her not to say a word, and I think the seriousness of the situation had finally sunk in. When the attorney handed me the paperwork for the psych hold, she lost it. Tried to bolt out of the room, but her brother caught her. She clawed him up pretty good before I managed to get her restrained again. I should have left the cuffs on her, but they raised hell about it first thing. The last thing I need is a complaint about the treatment of women in my custody, so I removed them.”

“Good God. I guess they changed their minds on that one after her explosion.”

“Nope. When I got her arms behind her back, the attorney walked up, slick as oil, and jabbed her with a needle. Five minutes later, she was a lump in the chair.”

“He had sedative with him?”

Carter nodded. “It’s clear they both know what they’re dealing with, but I think she took them by surprise on that one. I think they believed she’d behave until they got her out of there and then they figured they’d sedate her in the car.”

“But Holly didn’t like their plans.”

“I’m going to hazard a guess that she’s been institutionalized before.”

“I’d say definitely. And she’s not interested in going back. Did she take another Uber to kill me? I’m thinking the driver would have seen the ice pick and kept going.”

“Ha! No, apparently she lifted the keys to a truck the groundskeeper uses. Deputy Breaux found it parked around the corner from your house. We kept it for processing.”

“Did Jared or the attorney offer up anything at all? She came into what she thought was my home with an ice pick. Surely they’re not suggesting we pass that off as childish pranks, especially after how her sister died.”

“I said exactly that. The attorney has a poker face like a corpse, but Jared looked nervous. I think he’s scared of what Holly might do or say.”

“Of course he’s scared—for himself. He’s been covering it all up, which I’m guessing is what her father did before he died. Holly ticks all the boxes for my case. She’s violent, Lindsay would have let her in the house and turned her back to her, she was obsessed with Ryan, and you can bet she knew Ryan was living in the motel because she stalked him.”

Carter nodded. “And given that the local cops—who basically worked for Raymond Beech—barely gave the whole investigation a glance before putting it to bed, and Raymond never pushed for more, I’m going to guess that he knew exactly what happened.”

“Everyone I’ve talked to said Raymond Beech was a cold bastard, but how do you send an innocent man to prison for life for murder, and then let the killer live in your home every night without worrying you’ll be next?”

“Maybe that’s why Jared Beech looks so strung out. That guy is hanging on by a thread.”

I nodded. Maybe if I broke that thread, Jared Beech would be my trump card.