I fumble for my cell phone. I need to dial 911.
“Put that phone down, Lucy.” Anita Tremble’s voice sounds anything but mousy right now. “Or your geriatric friend here is going to get a free neck job.” Anita is standing in the doorway that leads to the dining area. She’s got one hand wrapped around Betty’s Jean’s waist and in the other hand, she’s holding a paring knife to her throat.
Rats. I should have seen this coming. When will I ever learn? Will isn’t the only one who suffers from too-stupid-to-live syndrome.
Chapter Nineteen
Fortunately, or unfortunately, this isn’t my first one-on-one with a crazy person threatening someone with a knife. If my past experiences have taught me anything, it’s that I have to defuse this situation logically, without emotion. I need to reason with her. It’s the only way I can get her to do what I want.
“Anita, you’ll never get away with this. Now, please, before this gets worse for you, put that knife down,” I say firmly.
“Make me.”
That didn’t go well.
“I’m only going to say this one more time,” says Anita. “Get rid of the phone. Better yet, step on it.”
“You want me to step on my phone? Are you crazy? This is an iPhone 11. Do you know how much this thing cost?”
“I don’t care if it’s made of gold. I’m not going to have you call the cops. Either you smash it now, or Betty Boop gets some much-needed plastic surgery.”
“Hey!” says Betty Jean. “People say I look great for my age.”
Anita snickers. “Shut up, you dumb cow. You looked ridiculous in that blonde wig, by the way.”
Since logic and reason don’t seem to be working, it looks as if I’ll have to humor her while I find a way out of this mess. “Okay. Sure. No problem. I’ll smash my phone. Just give me a minute.”
“Now.”
I blindly fumble with the screen for a moment and discreetly text 911, only since I can’t see what I’m doing, I’m not sure if I was successful. I throw my phone across the room. It shatters into two pieces against the hard tile floor. There went my free upgrade.
Paco looks up at me like he’s asking me what to do. I give a little shake of my head no. Stay right where you are, boy.
“Happy now?” I ask Anita.
“I will be as soon as I do what I came here for.”
I’m afraid to ask what that is, but I think I have a pretty good idea.
“I don’t understand,” says Betty Jean. “What did I ever do to you?”
“Yeah,” I say, “I don’t get it. Why did you kill Jefferson? If Archie did it, I’d understand. They were partners, and money does crazy things to people. But you weren’t even part of the gang until just a few months ago.”
“You think I killed Jefferson over money? That shows what you know.”
“Do you know that Archie confessed to the murder? He could have gotten a reduced sentence. Now he’s given up the money and his life. For you.”
“What? I never asked him to do that. You’re lying. Why would he confess to something he didn’t do?”
“Call your lawyer. He’ll tell you. Archie confessed to the feds to save you. Because you’re his daughter.”
“You know about that?” Anita’s voice cracks. “We could have had it all. The money, a great life. Until she ruined it.” She tightens her hold on Betty Jean.
“Me?” squeaks Betty Jean.
“You had to have J.W. Quicksilver at your book club meeting, didn’t you?” sneers Anita. “Jefferson was obsessed with Quicksilver’s books. He must have read Assassin’s Creed twelve times. After Archie and I found one another, he told Jefferson he was done with the real estate scam. They were going to retire. The three of us were on our way to Key West and then eventually the Cayman Islands when Jefferson saw this bitch’s message on some reader board.”
“And he couldn’t resist playing J.W. Quicksilver?” I ask.