“So, did you see the cover of this morning’s paper?” Freddie asked, pushing open the door to my hospital room.
“Where the hell have you been?”
“Whoa,” he said stopping dead in his tracks. “That is one serious cast.”
“It’s not a cast.” I looked down at the thick fabric contraption that was covering my arm, pinning it to my chest. “Nothing’s broken. A couple of things are torn, though. It’s just to keep my shoulder immobilized, so it doesn’t pop out again.”
“Ugh, that’s terrible,” Freddie said. “But we have much more important matters to discuss.”
“Yeah we do,” I said, pushing myself up with my good hand. “Like what the hell happened to you last night?”
“Not that,” Freddie said. “This.” He tossed the newspaper he was holding over to me. I instinctively moved my hurt right arm to pin it to my lap. Pain rocketed from my shoulder up to my neck. “Oh shoot! Frick! Nutballs!”
“What are you doing?” Freddie asked. “I thought you weren’t supposed to move it!”
I gritted my teeth and shot him a glare.
“Sorry,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “But look at it!”
I tilted the paper up with my left hand so I could see the headline.
“Holy crap … they got a picture. I mean … I saw the photographer but…”
I let the paper drop to my lap and looked up at the ceiling. “I think I’m going to be sick.” My mind flashed back to that horrible, nauseating feeling of Mr. Sullivan pushing me back … back off the roof of the cart … back into the air …
“Sick?” Freddie shouted, snapping me out of the memory. “Why would you be sick? This is awesome! This changes everything!”
I tilted the paper up, trying to keep my eyes from the picture that showed my legs dangling in the air from Grady’s cart. The headline ran, HERO SHERIFF SNATCHES FALLING WOMAN FROM FERRIS WHEEL.
“It’s making the national news,” Freddie added. “My parents saw it online! I told them you were one of my employees. They were suitably impressed, so I don’t think I’ll be moving anytime soon, and Rhonda told me that the morning talk shows are already calling.” He was on a roll now. “I mean, we’ll have to massage the narrative. A better headline would have been SHERIFF ASSISTS OTTER LAKE SECURITY EMPLOYEE IN STOPPING MURDER, or better yet OTTER LAKE SECURITY EMPLOYEE STOPS MURDER ASSISTED BY SHERIFF.”
“Freddie.” I put up a hand. “I get it.”
“I think Grady will be pleased, though, now that he’s got his small-town-hero slash quarterback slash Prince Charming card back.” Freddie picked up the paper again and squinted at the photo. “He does kind of look like a brown-haired Thor.”
I put my free hand over my face.
In the moment when I had lost my footing, I had been certain I was going to die. In hindsight, I couldn’t help but think it would have been nice if my entire life had flashed before my eyes—well, at least the good parts—but it had all happened so fast. . Thankfully, some part of me knew to reach out as I fell … and I had caught the lip of Grady’s cart right under my arm. It only slowed me for a fraction of a second, but it was long enough for Grady to grab my arm …
I’ve got you. Hang on, baby. I’ve got you.
“What?” Freddie asked, snapping me back into the moment. “The near-death thing getting to you?”
I nodded, closing my eyes.
I’m not letting you go. Not ever. Not anymore.
“I know what will cheer you up.”
I peeked through my fingers.
“Kit Kat’s awake.”
“What?”
“And she’s feeling feisty,” he said. “She ordered a pizza to her room, but I hear she’s not sharing until someone goes on a beer run.”
“Really?”
Freddie nodded. “I already showed her the paper. You are in lots of trouble.”
“That’s wonderful,” I said, feeling the tears come to my eyes. “And Tweety?”
“Already let her go.”
“And Mrs. Masterson?” I asked. “Mr. Sullivan?”
“Recovering … and jailed,” Freddie said, ticking off boxes in the air. “His heart stood up to the shock, so you’re not a killer.”
“I want to go see Kit Kat,” I said moving to push myself up with my good hand. Pain gripped my chest. Apparently I had a cracked rib too.
“You can’t.” Freddie flopped into the chair by my bed. “The nurse is with her. She said she’d come get us when she’s done.”
I settled back against the pillow. “Okay, well, that will give us time to talk.”
Freddie brought his thumb to his mouth and started chewing on the side of the nail. “Sure,” he mumbled. “About what?”
I slapped the bed. “About what happened to you last night!”
He looked out the window.
“Freddie?”
He pinched his lips together and shook his head.
“Look, I nearly died last night—”
“I feel really bad about that. I do,” he said. “Even if the publicity is awesome.”
“Then tell me.”
“I don’t want to,” he said quickly. “You won’t believe me.”
“This is ridiculous.” I took a really good look at his face. He hadn’t looked that pale a moment ago … or sweaty. “You look like you have seen a ghost.”
His face dropped. “How did you—”
Just then the door to my room opened. “You can see her now.”
Freddie and I whipped our heads around.
The nurse, standing in the doorway, repeated a little more uncertainly, “You can see her now?”
“We’ll be right there,” Freddie answered quickly.
I shot him a look. “This isn’t over.”
After getting lost a few times, we finally found Kit Kat’s room. Tweety was already inside.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Frick and Frack, Detective Edition,” Kit Kat croaked from her bed. “Pizza?” She patted the box beside her.
I waved her off but returned her smile.
Tweety planted a hand on the armrest of her chair to turn and face us. “Rhonda tells me you worked pretty hard to get yourself killed last night, Erica.”
“She the one who dropped you off?” I asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed.
She nodded. “Also told me we have you two to thank for getting ol’ Sully to expose himself.”
Her sister snorted.
“Not exactly,” I muttered. “He beat us to the punch.”
Freddie swatted me, but at least it was on the good arm. “Why do you always have to do that?”
“What?”
“Last time it was all We didn’t technically solve the murder.”
I peered up at Freddie. “Is that my voice you’re doing right now? ’Cause I don’t think I sound like that.”
“And now you’re all He beat us to the punch,” Freddie said, waving his hands in the air then letting them drop with disgust. “I’m trying to run a business here.”
“As I was saying,” I said, turning back to the twins. “I’m just glad I was there for Mrs. Masterson. Then again, we probably should have told Grady our suspicions right away and maybe—”
“Quibbling!” Freddie shouted.
“So now that Sully’s confessed to Mr. Masterson’s, Mr. Clarke’s, and Mr. Ramsbottom’s murders, I guess—”
“Mr. Ramsbottom?” the twins asked in unison.
“Uh-huh,” I said, glaring at Tweety. “You heard me. Confessed.”
Tweety wasn’t looking at me, though. She was looking at Kit Kat—and Kit Kat back at her, identical expressions on their faces.
“I thought you—”
“I thought you—”
“Wait…” Tweety said, pointing at her sister. “You thought I killed Mr. Ramsbottom?” She swung the finger around to point at her own chest. “Why would I kill him? You were the one sleeping with him!”
“Sleeping with him!” Kit Kat yelled. “That old goat?”
“You were always sneaking off with him! I thought you killed him in some sort of lovers’ quarrel.”
“What! Lovers’ quarrel, my heinie. I’ve yet to meet the man worth killing for,” she said, grimacing. She then sat up a little in the bed. “I was trying to help you save your relationship with Mick! I knew how much you loved him. I thought Mr. Ramsbottom was paying him to date his daughter.”
“No,” I corrected, jumping in. “Mr. Ramsbottom didn’t want Olivia with Mick either.”
“Huh,” she said, furrowing her brow. “You know, I remember him being pretty ticked that day when I told him it was a cheap shot to buy Mick a new car. He didn’t say much, but … he must have figured out Olivia had done it.”
Tweety planted her hands on the arms of her chair and straightened herself up. “And what would make you think that I would want to be with a man who could be bought off anyway?”
“I don’t know,” Kit Kat shouted back. “I never understood what you saw in Mick in the first place, but it bugged me that they thought they could interfere with all their money. I was just trying to get to the bottom of everything that day when he died.” She gasped … which made her cough for a moment. “You know, come to think of it, I remember little Sully sulking around that tent—”
“And wait a minute … why would you think I killed him?” Tweety yelled.
“Obviously because he was buying Mick off!”
“Well, I’ll be,” Tweety said, shaking her head. “And to think I spent all those years living with you, taking care of you, watching you … all because I didn’t want you going off and killing someone else.”
“Me?” Kit Kat shrieked. “I’ve been doing that for you!”
“Please,” Tweety muttered.
“I had to!” Kit Kat yelled, flopping her hands on the bed. “Mother made me promise her on her deathbed to take care of you. It was always, Take care of your sister, she’s not like you … might be a little touched,” she said, eyes lost in memory but tapping the side of her head with her finger.
“She always said that to me!”
Freddie leaned over to me. “This is hilarious,” he whispered. “Better than bingo.”
“Why would she say that to you?” Kit Kat shot back. “I mean, between the two of us, I’m clearly the stable one.”
“Stable one? Stable one! You thought you were living with a murderer all these years.” Tweety scoffed. “That’s hardly stable.”
“So did you!”
Both women suddenly stopped yelling and just looked at each other for a moment … before their bellies started to shake. A moment later laughter erupted.
“You know I’ve never noticed it before,” Freddie said, leaning down again to my ear, “but the twins … they can be kind of creepy.”
I nodded.
“I’m glad I’m not living on an island with them.”
I looked at him with big eyes. “Right?”
“Erica,” Tweety said, grabbing my attention back. “I want you to know something. I mean, we want you to know something.” She looked at her sister, who nodded. “I … I’m not good with words but … well, your mother’s always saying you were the best thing that ever happened to her, and we want you to know…” She pinched her lips together and shook her head.
My throat suddenly felt tight.
Kit Kat squeezed her sister’s hand. “What my sister is trying to say is that you and your mother … well, you two are the best things that have ever happened to us.”
I took a shaky breath and nodded.
“You did a good job too, Ng,” she said, looking at Freddie. “Thank you.”
I heard him mumble something like, Yeah, no problem, but it had a definite sniff at the end.
“Okay,” Tweety said, clapping her hands. “Enough of all that. Who’s going to go on that beer run? I could really use a drink.”