Diva Runs Out Of Thyme

Three people? How was that possible? Did Hannah say Wolf was there? I couldn’t remember. I hoped Wolf was the person in the car because I would need him if there were three killers. I couldn’t defend myself against three people with one lousy Taser.

The Taser. I felt around on the floor. No Taser. I must have left it on the console in the foyer. And now I had to face three people. My hands shook at the thought.

Who could they be? I had to call Hannah. This wasn’t working the way I’d planned at all.

Mochie mewed and a light flashed in the living room. I snapped the phone shut. I couldn’t call Hannah now. I gulped for air. What had Hannah said? Bernie and Humphrey weren’t there. Had she mentioned Wolf? Think, Sophie, think! Vicki would be on her way as soon as she took meringues out of the oven.

Vicki. Meringues should be left in the oven to cool. They baked on a low heat to dry out and were supposed to stay in the closed oven with the heat off for at least two hours. Especially on a rainy day like this.

Moving as silently as possible, I kneeled by the cracked door. The intruder shone a flashlight in the silver drawer of my buffet.

Footsteps slammed through the house accompanied by hoarse, hacking breaths.

The flashlight turned off.

A single gunshot echoed.

Heavy feet staggered in my direction. It took every ounce of fortitude not to slam the door and run. I was safer if no one knew I was there.

A terrific thud resounded and shook the old house so hard I could feel the tremor under my knees.

“Vicki?” A man’s voice, scared and small.

“Nooooo!”

The high-pitched scream melded with the sound of someone running into the living room.

A flashlight flickered on Vicki, who hovered over Andrew sprawled on his back.

But who held the flashlight? Wolf? I squinted to see better, but it didn’t help.

“Why is it that you make a mess of everything? You couldn’t just come in this house, find the poison bottle, and leave? Why am I always cleaning up after you?”

The man’s voice sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place him.

Somebody sniffled. Vicki?

“You’re not even supposed to be here! And neither are you, Andrew,” she wailed. “I didn’t mean to shoot you. I thought you were Sophie or Wolf. And now you’re bleeding . . .”

“You poisoned Mars?” Andrew sounded remarkably calm for someone who’d been shot. “But why?”

“You’re such a dolt, Andrew,” said the other man. “She was supposed to poison Natasha, but, as usual, little Vicki couldn’t get the simplest thing right and she poisoned Mars instead. I thought she’d outgrown that, but it’s just like when we were kids.”

“That’s not true,” protested Vicki. “I don’t mess up everything.”

“Really? I suppose you thought it through before you whacked Simon over the head?” He walked to the buffet and shone the flashlight on it. The drawer complained when he jerked it open. “Thanks to you, I’m unemployed. Today is another perfect example. Instead of finding the poison container, you’ve shot your husband and I’m going to have to clean up after you. Again.”

“You . . . you killed Simon? Why did you want to kill Natasha?” Andrew’s voice had grown weaker.

Had he already lost too much blood? I wavered. If I went to his aid, they’d kill me. Where was Wolf?

I inched back, praying the floorboards wouldn’t creak. Holding the cell phone under my sweater to dim the light, I pressed 911.

The operator answered too loudly. I looked up, afraid I’d given myself away, but Vicki’s sobbing must have covered the operator’s voice.

Whispering as loud as I dared, I said the address and “shooting.”

“I can’t hear you. You have to speak up.”

I tried again. “Send ambulance.”

“I can’t hear you,” she shouted.

I flipped the phone shut immediately and hoped Nina had the good sense to call the cops.

“Andrew,” blubbered Vicki, “I’m so sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

The other man continued to jerk open drawers and cabinets. “Now I have to decide what to do with you, Andrew. Clearly you’re too stupid to live. Your dear wife has been having an affair with Simon for a year.”

“Is that true?” Andrew asked in a whisper.

Amid snuffles and snorts Vicki said, “Can you ever forgive me? In the beginning, Simon was so good to me and I felt like a princess. I never stopped loving you, Andrew. I just wanted . . .”

“She wanted somebody to clean up her messes and take care of her like her big brother always has.” The man dropped to the floor and shone the light underneath the furniture. “Instead she married a dufus whom she had to take care of.” He sneezed.

“Natasha hired that private investigator,” said Vicki, “and found out that Clyde was my brother and that I was seeing Simon. She pressured me to get Simon to give her a TV show on his channel.”

Clyde! Simon’s driver was Vicki’s brother?