“You sound happy.”
“I will be when this is over,” I said. “Can you meet me at Jesse’s house for a few minutes?”
“Why?” she asked. “I’d really rather not go back to Jesse’s house. It’s just too sad.”
With infinite patience, I said, “I need to tell you something.”
“I’m listening.”
“I’d rather tell you in person.” I tried not to grit my teeth. I wasn’t about to announce who had killed her uncle on the phone. “Please, Jane. It’s important. I just need a few minutes.”
“All right,” she said. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
*
I hadn’t wanted to tell Jane who the killer was over the phone, but when she walked into Jesse’s house, I realized that I didn’t have to tell her a thing.
The killer was following right behind her.
My internal panic meter shot off the charts.
Maybe the killer was unaware that I knew. But then I shot Jane a wary glance and she returned it in triplicate. That was not a good thing. Now I understood why she hadn’t wanted to meet me here.
Never let them see your fear, my dad always said, so I straightened my shoulders and slapped a smile on my face.
“Hello, Althea.”
She nodded. “Shannon. Why don’t you two ladies have a seat?”
“I’d just as soon stand,” I said. “I’ve got to get back home to—”
“It wasn’t a suggestion,” she said, cutting me off. Pulling a small but deadly gun out of her jacket pocket, she waved it toward the two spindly wooden chairs facing the sofa. “Sit down.”
I didn’t budge, so Jane grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the chairs.
“Althea, you don’t have to do this,” Jane said. Her voice was shaking and I knew she was scared to death. I was, too, but I’d learned a few months ago that it was a good idea to try to keep someone talking if she was aiming a gun at you. Whatever it took to prolong the moment. I took a deep breath and plunged in.
“I’ve already connected some of the dots,” I said conversationally, “but maybe you can fill in a few blanks for me.”
“By all means,” she said acerbically.
“Did you kill Andrew Braxton?”
“Ah, my devoted stepson. He lost track of me when I changed my last name and moved up north. I should’ve changed my first name, too, because that’s how he finally found me. Through the shop.”
“Why didn’t you change your first name?”
“Because I love my name. It’s pretty.” Her bottom lip stuck out in a pout. “It was the perfect name for my shop.”
I’d never seen her narcissistic side until now. It was illuminating.
“Why was he trying to find you?” Jane asked.
Althea sneered. “He had this romantic notion that I had somehow coerced his father into changing his will and leaving me all his money. And then I killed him, according to Andrew.”
“Did you?”
“Harold was crazy about me,” she said, her tone blasé. “And his greatest wish was for me to be happy.”
“And once he was dead and you had his money,” I said, “his wish came true.”
“You’ve got a smart mouth,” she said.
“Are you going to tell me you didn’t have anything to do with Harold’s death?”
“He had a heart attack and died, boo-hoo,” she said flippantly. “I got the money and the boat and moved away. Andrew should’ve been happy to see the last of me, but no. He couldn’t deal with not getting any of Daddy’s money. He refused to let it go.”
As long as she was willing to talk, I had a few more questions that had come up when I was doing my online research last night. “According to some accounts, you slowly poisoned your first husband years before you met Harold. Was that true?”
“Moi? Poison?” She splayed her hands and shrugged to indicate she was clueless about any such thing. “Nobody could ever prove that.”
According to the old newspaper I found online, she was right. They never proved that she’d poisoned her first husband. But seeing her with a gun in her hand, I knew she’d done it. This would teach me to trust my first impressions. I’d been suspicious of her from the beginning and I should’ve gone with those feelings. Althea Tannis was a predatory psychopath, and now she didn’t care if we knew it or not.
“Harold died five long years ago,” she said easily as she walked over to the fireplace mantel and grabbed the roll of duct tape there. “I thought I was home free all this time, but eventually Andrew found me. I had no choice but to take care of him. He would’ve hounded me forever.”
She had just confessed to killing Andrew Braxton, but frankly I was more concerned that she’d known she would find a roll of duct tape on the mantel. I exchanged a furtive glance with Jane. Had Althea placed the tape there ahead of time? Was luring us here her plan all along? I suddenly felt as though I’d played right into her hands, but that was impossible.