Murder of a Creped Suzette

“I like to be in control,” Gary confided. “If you’re high, you’re not in control.”

“Very true.” Since he was chatting, Skye tried once more to talk her way out of the situation. “I noticed your cross. Do you really think God would approve of what you’re doing to me?”

“Probably not.” Gary gave a mocking laugh. “See, I figure it like this—God may be my copilot, but the devil makes a better bombardier.”

Cripes! What was it about her that attracted all the psychos? So much for her counseling skills. Maybe if she could find out what the goon wanted, she could hand it over and get him out of there. “If you’re looking for cash or valuables, you picked the wrong person to rob.”

“You’re the valuable, sweet cheeks.” Gary chuckled at his own wit. “Your man may not be willing to pay to get that letter you two want, but from what Dar says, and from what I’ve seen this week while I was watching you guys, he’ll hand over some serious cash to get you back in one piece. That dude is so damn gaga over you he’d probably even take a bullet to save you.”

“That’s the first smart thing you’ve said.” Wally’s voice came from behind the thug’s back. “Now take your hands off my fiancé, or I’ll shoot.”

Skye turned her head as much as she could, and out of the corner of her eye she saw that Wally had his gun pressed to the creep’s temple.

Gary howled a string of profanities, and Wally snarled, “Don’t give me an excuse to pull this trigger.” His .38 “accidently” slipped, clipping the creep on the side of the head. “I may not have a license to kill, but I do have a learner’s permit.”

“I can snap her neck in a second,” Gary threatened, tightening his grip on Skye.

“Not before I put a bullet in that pea-size brain of yours.” Wally’s voice was menacing. “You have until the count of three. And think about this—I’d love to save the county the cost of your trial. One.”

The guy didn’t move.

“Two.”

He wavered, his arm loosening slightly. “Come on, man. Just a little—”

“Thr—” Wally interrupted the thug’s plea.

Gary swore and released Skye. As soon as she was free, she darted behind Wally.

A second later Darleen rushed into the foyer holding her arm, which was dripping blood. “Look what that little mutt did to me when I tried to put him outside.” She stumbled to a stop, her eyes bulging. “What the f—?”

“Both of you lie down, face to the floor, hands behind your back,” Wally commanded as he waved Darleen over to her boyfriend.

“What did you do to Toby?” Skye tried to rush past Wally, but he grabbed her shoulder.

“I opened the back door and he ran out.” Darleen’s tone was triumphant as she and Gary obeyed Wally’s orders. “I hope he gets run over by a car or eaten by a coyote.”

Skye tried to get past Wally again, but he said, “We’ll deal with that later. Toby’ll be fine. I’m sure he’s waiting on the step. Okay?”

“Okay,” Skye agreed, but she cast a worried glance toward the backyard.

“Is it just the two of them?”

“I think so.”

“Here. Take my gun and keep it pointed at the guy’s head.” Wally handed her the pistol and snatched the handcuffs from his gun belt.

Once he had patted down the prone man for weapons and cuffed him, he turned to Darleen and patted her down as well, then used a white plastic strip to fasten her hands. Stepping away from the trussed couple, Wally took the .38 back from Skye and used his radio to call for backup.

Only then did he address Darleen. “Here’s the deal. Your boyfriend is going away for a long, long time. Assaulting a police employee is a felony. You, on the other hand, can do some good for yourself.”

“How?” Darleen gave Wally a calculating look. “Do I have to testify against Gary?”

The goon protested, but Wally pointed his gun at the guy’s knee and said, “If you make another sound, you’ll be limping the rest of your life.” He turned his attention back to Darleen. “Yes. You’ll need to testify, and you’ll also need to write that letter I requested—the truthful version, not the lies you threatened to write.”

“Not without the money you owe me.” Darleen’s skin was pasty and she had dark circles under her eyes. “I need it. I’m not well.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m sick.” Darleen’s face had turned an unhealthy shade of red. “Isn’t that enough?”

Skye noticed Wally’s expression soften, so she quickly said, “Her boyfriend mentioned she’s been using cocaine, marijuana, and some form of pills.”

“You bitch!” Darleen screamed, tears running down her cheeks. “You’ve got my husband—isn’t that enough? His father’s a fricking millionaire. All I want is what’s rightfully mine. What I would have gotten if I hadn’t been so damn naive and signed that prenup.”

“Your ex-husband,” Skye reminded her. “I’m not trying to take anything from you, but we can’t give you money to buy drugs.”

“On the other hand,” Wally said, “if you write a letter telling what really happened in our marriage, not the false account you tried to use to blackmail me, I will pay for you to go to rehab and I won’t charge you as an accomplice.”

“Rehab is for quitters.”