Chapter Twenty-Four

The next morning dawned bright and early, with Ben having figured in more crazy dreams, some involving a swing and a shoe full of champagne. Bella had spent the night, leaving me no choice other than to remain celibate for a little while longer. Ben was adamant that our first time not include the stricture of Bella in the next room. He said he wanted me to feel free to scream.

He slept over, too, taking the foldout couch in my second bedroom, as Bella had already claimed my living room couch again. For some reason, he didn’t want the floor and a boot pillow a second time. Go figure.

I walked out of my bedroom, following the smell of bacon and eggs into the kitchen. I found Ben there looking delicious, as always, and Bella wrapped in a huge robe the color of raspberries.

“Eggs,” she said, placing a piled plate in front of me and grunting.

“Good morning to you, too,” I said. I smiled at Ben across the table and felt his toes wander up the slit in my robe. My smile widened. While Bella fussed over another plate of food, I let my own foot trail up the inseam of his jeans and was very proud of myself for playing like this. I made what I hoped were sexy faces at him and watched as his dimples winked on. Point for me.

Sliding my foot higher up his leg, I scootched down in my chair a little to reach the bulge in his pants with my sock-covered toe. I gave him a naughty smile and a little giggle—really enjoying myself—when Bella stumbled from behind the stove, aiming for a chair at the table and rocking my chair in the process. My whole body lurched forward and Ben gave a great yell before bending over to grip his stomach, thereby smacking his head on the edge of the table in the process.

Needless to say, I was a little late when I showed up at the offices of Landon, Lerner, and Winnet. What with getting two bags of frozen peas for Ben and then leaving him in Bella’s care when I realized what time it was, I streaked in the door halfway through the appointment.

Mr. Winnet welcomed me graciously, even though I was already a half-hour into my allotted time, and sat down with me. He offered me coffee and I declined, my stomach tied up into knots over what I was contemplating doing today.

“I appreciate your time, Mr. Winnet. I’m ashamed to admit I wasn’t paying much attention when you read the official will after Gertie’s funeral, and I have a few questions for you.”

“Go ahead, Ivy. I was very fond of your great-aunt, and I’m willing to do whatever I can to help you.”

So I told him as little as possible and asked the one question that would seal up my suspicions. “At this point, if I died, who would inherit The Masked Shoppe?”

His answer gave me the chills, but let me know I was on the right track. I thanked him for his time and headed for the shop, where I had some serious preparing to do.

An hour later we were set, with Bella and Ben in their positions. The Masked Shoppe opened in an hour, but I had a very necessary appointment first.

There was a knock on the front door, and I wiped my sweaty palms against the sides of my skirt. If I had even one ounce of my sister the drama queen in myself, and if I had really grown a backbone during my time in my new town with my friends, this was the time to break it out.

I blew out a breath and walked to the door. “I will not be afraid. I have a plan, I have friends who will help me, and I have nothing to fear,” I mumbled under my breath. Yes, I knew it was a little repetitive, but anything more difficult than that and I was afraid I’d start rocking myself in the corner.

I stared through the glass door before turning the brass knob, infusing my knees and my back with starch. I yanked the door open, smiling my best smile. “Kitty, I’m very glad you could come this early. Thanks for being punctual.”

She seemed a bit unsure of herself until she crossed over the threshold into The Masked Shoppe. Then it was as if a switch were flipped. Her back straightened and her head came up. She was confident, assured, and ready to take the reins.

“Thank you for inviting me, Ivy. Now what was it that you needed to talk to me about?” She smoothed down the front of her melon-colored sweater set, then rested her hands on her gray slacks.

I offered her the cup of tea I’d made earlier and watched as she let it sit there, not touching it because she was so intent on why I’d asked her to come to the shop. “Well, Kitty, I was hoping you and I could talk about the shop. I’m feeling a little overwhelmed here, and the bills don’t pay themselves. I was thinking perhaps we could enter into some kind of agreement where you would own a part of the shop and we could be partners. I talked with Mr. Winnet this morning, and he told me how disappointed you were when Gertie left me the shop instead of you. And I know you must be distraught over Charlie’s arrest. I thought maybe I could help you give your life some purpose by making you a manager. You would have some responsibility, and I’d give back your key. Of course, you wouldn’t be a full partner, but maybe this way we could all get a little something we want.” I paused, then offered to go get the paperwork I’d had the attorney draw up as a prop.

“Yes, I’d like to see what you have in mind. Thank you.” Her voice made it sound like she wanted to add, “you bitch” on the end of that. She twitched a little in her seat, and I could almost see her brain replaying my words. Thinking about how little I was actually giving her, how she’d have to settle for a lot less than she’d wanted, and how her son was in jail for stealing my lingerie. By this time she must have known I knew she was in on that little scheme, too.

I was counting on her being desperate. When I went back into my office, I watched her on my newly installed security camera. Ben was nice enough to pull strings for me to get it last night. This setup meant I had a front row seat when she took a couple of capsules out of her purse and broke them into the cup sitting in front of my seat in the main room.

I timed my re-entrance so I could sit down with the paperwork before she had time to take a sip of her tea. “If you’d like to read over them now, that would be fine,” I said as I lifted up my teacup. I saw the anticipation, the sick glee in her eyes as I brought the cup to my lips.

Then I pretended to sniff it and pulled it away from my nose quickly. The light dimmed in her eyes and then died as I said, “Oh, Kitty, I’m so sorry. I placed the wrong cup in front of you. This is the chamomile I made for you and I had the Earl Grey. I apologize. Silly me, I almost had you drinking sugar, and we both know how your system can only handle Sweet-N-Low.” I’d remembered that little tidbit from Bella, who used to do Kitty’s hair and got yelled at if Bella made Kitty’s tea wrong.

I saw the way her eyes widened and the very earth seemed to stop when her brow crinkled. I almost heard her snap. Then she was a whirl of activity as she jumped up and threw the table at me, making a mad dash for the door. Or so I thought, until she turned back with one of the rapiers we carried and started advancing toward me with malice in her eye.

“You ruined everything,” she said, breathing heavy and rasping her words. “You ruined everything for me, and now I’m going to pay you back.”

“Now, Kitty...”

“Don’t you ‘Now, Kitty’ me, you oversized cow. I had the perfect plan, and you were supposed to hightail it out of here when your store was burglarized. You, being a coward and all, were supposed to get all girly on me and go back to your Southern California and your sun and your year-round tan. But no, you had to snoop around instead of taking my barbs to heart and the lingerie as a warning against bad things happening.”

Was this the part where I was supposed to keep her talking? Because I was getting creeped out and thinking I ought to either get the hell out of here or grab up my own rapier. But Kitty blocked both the front door and the wall with my brand new, really nice display of plastic swords.

“Then you didn’t even have the decency to die at that Barn party. You made me kill an innocent woman I really liked. Janice was nice, whereas you are the spawn of Satan.”

“I made you kill Janice? You poisoned Janice and the only thing you have to say for yourself is that it’s someone else’s fault?” Okay, not doing so good on keeping her talking and not making her angrier. Now she started advancing on me with her little plastic sword. The rapier might have been made of plastic, but it was hard plastic. Those babies could sting if slashed through the air.

“Yes, you horrendous bitch. You made me kill Janice. You were the one in the flapper costume, and you told me yourself you were wearing the blue mask. I saw you with the wig on the counter. You were supposed to be dressed like Janice was, and I brought you a glass of champagne with the poison. I watched you down it in one gulp. Except it wasn’t you, and so it’s your fault she’s dead. You were supposed to faint and then wake up scared, and bolt for home like the frightened heifer you are. But I gave her too much of the stuff. Your fat ass would have just fainted, but it was too much for Janice. I saw her eyes roll back and she dropped dead away. But then I had to be sure, because she’d seen me right before I realized she wasn’t you.” She advanced on me again, nostrils flaring. “So I had to stab her with a pair of scissors from my purse. And now it’s your turn to die. You put my son in jail and took my store, and now you’ll die in it.”

Her logic was obviously askew. How did she think she would get the store, or even get away, for that matter, once she killed me? And she was about to pay dearly for her cow and fat references. Besides, even if she managed to put the hurt on me, I had my backup in place.

“Kitty, what do you think you’re going to do with that sword?” I said this, cool as a cucumber, and waited for her reply. Instead I felt a distinct stinging on my bare forearm. “You hit me!”

“You’re damn right I did, and there’s a lot more where that came from.” She grabbed a silk belly dancer scarf off the same wall and tried to wrap it around my wrist. All the while she was mumbling things about Charlie skulking around my house on the night of the Ball and using a similar scarf to muffle her voice during her threatening phone calls. She snapped the sword at me again.

Before I could blink, she’d wrapped the scarf around me from elbow to wrist, and a sneer popped out on her face. I had to give her points for swiftness. “You are done. I have more of the poison in my bag, and you’ll be gone before you can say, ‘The Masked Shoppe.’ ”

I tried to wriggle out of her clutches, but she was seriously stronger than her little body looked. She tied my arm to a spindle chair and walked over to where she’d placed her purse on the sales counter. At that precise moment, the cavalry burst in. The portly Detective Jameson and his trusty sidekick, the perfectly coiffed Detective Bartley, were followed closely by Ben and Bella.