“They don’t call me Black Jack for my health, hon. I’ve got deep debts and it’s time to pay up. I thought I’d be sitting pretty after I married Linda.”
“But killing him didn’t solve anything. It just created more problems for you.” I didn’t know how long I could keep him talking, but I didn’t know what else to do. While I talked, I stepped backward and touched the costume behind me. My hand connected with suede fringes. The Western costumes.
“Why did you kill him?”
“Brody Manners’s will left all that money to his kid, but in the event of Blitz’s death, it reverts to Linda. Twenty-five million dollars,” he said.
His eyes glazed over. I fingered along the suede fringes until I found a leather belt with holsters like the one I’d worn last week. Slowly, I felt along the belt until I gripped a toy revolver. I tucked it into the waistband of my pj’s by the small of my back. It was light and plastic—I was sure Black Jack Cannon’s gun was neither.
“Reverts to her, not to you. What makes you think she’ll give you half?”
“Nevada is a community property state, sweetheart. Once I divorce her, half of what she owns is mine. With Blitz dead, that half just got twelve-point-five mil richer. And there’s nothing Linda Manners can do about it.”
Black Jack’s slip of Linda’s surname told me one thing. He hadn’t married her for her love and companionship. He married her because she was the widow of a very rich man.
“You won’t get your hands on that money,” I said.
“Oh yes, I will. It’s just a matter of time.”
Bobbie had told me about Blitz donating money to her charity, and about how he’d wanted to help people for the sheer good of it, not for the accolades that would come his way if his philanthropic gestures were known. If the public didn’t know about his actions, I guessed Black Jack didn’t know about them either.
“Blitz gave his money to charity,” I said. “He’s been doing it for years. Linda knows that he wants his money to help people. Brody’s will says what happens to his money, but Blitz had his own plans for his inheritance. You killed him but you’re not going to see a dime of his money.”
Black Jack raised his hand and struck me.
Pops of light sparked behind my eyeballs. I fell to the side, grasping at the cardboard boxes for support. The fake revolver fell out of the back of my waistband and landed on the floor.
“Well, well. What have we here? The little lady’s been armed all this time.” He started toward the gun and my foot shot out and kicked it away from him. I knew it wouldn’t do anybody any good, but if he thought it was real, I might have a chance at holding my own.
“I knew you were down here,” I said. It was as big a lie as I’d ever told in my life. “I heard you when I carried the recycling down.”
“You pay too much attention to what goes on around you, you know that?” He narrowed his eyes. “That’s why you’re here with a gun pointed at you. Poking around in other people’s business isn’t a good idea.”
“This isn’t other people’s business. It’s my business. This store is mine, and you sent Blitz here. You made him my business.”
“Your store? I thought it was Jerry’s store.” He stepped forward again. I stood my ground. His gun was within a foot of my pajamas. If he pulled the trigger, no way he’d miss.
“I’m taking over the store so my dad can recover. He—he’s due here tonight. That’s why I’m cleaning so late. He’ll be here any minute.”
Black Jack’s eyes cut to the door of the stockroom. It was the fraction of time I needed.
I pushed a cardboard box into him and he dropped his gun. I kicked it in the same direction as the plastic pistol. He grabbed my pajama top. I pulled away. He yanked me toward him. The fabric tore. I kicked at his shins but my alien slippers were no match for his cowboy boots. He twisted the fabric of my shirt in his fist and pulled me back toward him. I stumbled backward into his chest. His spicy-beef-stick breath puffed onto my cheek from behind. “You’re too much trouble,” he said.
“H-how’d you do it?” I said.
“Silly costumes made it easy. I threw on a trench coat and a fedora and nobody even noticed me.”
“But the trench coat went with the Columbo costume,” I said.
“You think there’s only one trench coat in Proper? That worked out nicely, though. I always planned to set up that black woman but the trench coat spun you off on Grady’s trail for a little bit. I wouldn’t have minded him being taken down. Payback for his dad sticking it to me on my casino debts.”
“What do you have against Ebony?”
“She made an easy suspect. My wife never liked her because of her history with Brody.”
“So you framed her for murder because it was easy? You took the money from Blitz after you killed him. That money was intended for Ebony all along. If you were after money, why didn’t you take it?”
“Twenty grand is pocket change compared to what I’m going after.” He narrowed his eyes and watched me.