With Mugs in tow, she quietly opened her bedroom door, slipped down the stairs, and realized that Goliath had come with them. Thaddeus, well, he just stayed sound asleep. She wished she had because she knew she’d have quite the time getting back to sleep now at this time. But she wandered into the kitchen, and Mugs, not to be outdone, went to the back door. She opened it for him and let him out. Almost immediately he started barking like crazy. She stepped back as a man stepped inside, holding a gun.
She stared at him in shock. “I don’t have anything to steal.”
“I know, and how bad is that.” He shook his head. “This place is frickin’ empty. Like pathetically empty. You’re worse off than I am.”
She didn’t know who he was, and she didn’t recognize him at all. “I don’t know who you are. Do you know who I am?” She wished she had some way to contact Mack.
“How could I not? I mean, the town’s been agog about you, but you’re not all that smart.”
She winced, as she could hear the boasting about to come. “No, I’m not. I think I’m just lucky.”
He nodded. “I’d agree with that.”
“And I’m not sure what you’re here for, but it’s not here.”
“Well, if you don’t know what I’m here for, how can you tell?” he asked curiously.
“Because I have a good idea.” He stared at her. She shrugged. “Your mother sent you to get a sugar bowl, didn’t she?”
His jaw dropped. Literally. She’d never seen it happen in real life, but wow.
She sighed. “And you killed your coworker Alan. I don’t even know why you would do something like that. I mean, what is it with this world?” she cried out. “You’re supposed to be nice to people, and here all you, … you and your mom, all you’re doing is murdering people. Taking out people who are in your way in life.”
He stared at her, his head shaking. “Good God,” he said. “What are you talking about?” But he’d already exposed his tell.
She nodded. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, and how sad is that? Did Alan really deserve to be killed? Did poor Chrissy? I mean, so what if your mother didn’t get the relationship she wanted. I get it. That must have been heartbreaking. It always is when we lose somebody who we care for,” she explained. “But to kill Chrissy?”
“Shut up,” he snapped. “Don’t you say nothing about my ma.”
“Good Lord, your ma? I get it. You’re just helping out Peggy, but did you have to go and take her methodology and use it yourself?”
“You don’t know anything about it.” He glared at her.
“I know that your mother told you to move out and that you don’t want to.”
“Of course I don’t want to move out now. I can’t afford to either. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to when I get back on my feet.”
“Well, that’s good to know,” she noted. “You should live on your own. You know that, right? I mean, you’re supposed to be independent.”
“You don’t know anything about me.” He stared at her in disgust. “You just need to shut up.”
“Well, I’m trying to figure out why you would do this for your mother.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” he stated.
“Right. Because Peggy knows what you did to your friend Alan. But you also know what Peggy did to Chrissy. So what is this? Like a mutual admiration society?”
“No,” he snapped. “Not at all. She was really angry when I found out what she’d done.”
“And how did you find out?”
He shrugged. “I saw her taking a box of the rat poison into work and when I asked her about it, she said that somebody needed to learn a lesson. I had heard her complaining about Chrissy a lot already and then how she’d stolen Xavier from her. So then, when Chrissy died, I asked Ma point-blank about it. Actually I accused her of murder. And she had to admit that it was true.”
“And yet you turned around and did the same thing to poor Alan.”
“How do you know that?” he asked, staring at her in horror. “Nobody knows that.”
“Not even your mother knows, does she?”
He shook his head. “No, I’ve been getting the rat poison box for her from the neighbor’s. So one time I took a little container of it myself.”
“Of course you did. And yet it was your friend, somebody who came over to your house all the time.”
“Exactly. But he was getting sweet with my mother. And that was just disgusting.”
“So you killed him because he was sweet on your mother? I thought he was a younger man.”
“Maybe for my ma but not to me. Mid-forties.”
“Maybe he wasn’t sweet on her. Maybe he felt sorry for her.”
He shook his head. “No, I asked him about it, and he said she’s got a nice house, and she wasn’t all that bad-looking. He might make a play for her himself.”
“And you don’t think he was joking?”
“I was sure he was joking,” he replied. “At first. Yet I could see him considering it, wondering if she’d go for it. And he started to flatter her a little bit, and she started responding. Like it was disgusting,” he snapped, his face twisting. “She was obviously vulnerable and too dense to realize he was just playing and making a fool out of her. But what would happen if he succeeded?” he asked, staring at her. “I mean, no way I could let that happen. I mean, it was just gross. Not to mention he’d make sure I was kicked out and cut out of the will. He’d get the house and everything.”
“So hang on a minute. You killed this supposed friend of yours so that he couldn’t have a relationship with your mother?”
He nodded carefully. “Yes, that made the most sense. Besides, it was pretty easy to do. He always came over, and he ate with us some. Plus, we always had cans of pop in our house. And we mixed a lot with booze. I just dumped some into the can one day.”
“Did you know he told the cops that he thought he’d been poisoned.”
He stared at her. “He said that to the cops?”
“Yeah, he did,” she replied quietly. “He knew. He may not have known it was you, but he knew somebody close to him was poisoning him. How long do you think it will take for the cops to find you?”
He just shook his head, wordless. His phone buzzed.
“That’s your mom, asking if you got the sugar bowl.”
He swallowed and stared down at the gun in his hand.
“Did you really think you could do the job with a gun? I mean, you’ve been killing by poison,” she noted quietly. “That’s something hands-off, not personal, not messy, and you don’t have to see the results.”
He shook his head. “That won’t matter because Ma’s outside.”
“Oh, great,” she muttered, thinking about the large woman. “And now I suppose you expect me to do what?”
“Give me the sugar bowl,” he stated, “and that’ll keep her happy.”
“I can’t,” she said quietly.
“Why not?” he cried out. He looked around, frantic. “I have to get it. That sugar bowl has to be here.”