The Ex Who Wouldn't Die (16 page)

"I only did it to him twice."

Amanda's eyes widened. "Twice? You blackmailed him more than once?"

"Well, only once successfully. The second time I asked him for money…" He grinned and spread his hands. "He killed me."

Amanda massaged her temples, fighting the headache that was starting. "But this man once paid you money for a gun you didn't have? Why would he do that?"

Charley's grin turned cocky. "Because I'm damned good at what I do."

"You're dead
. That isn't exactly a testimonial
to your skills as a blackmailer."

"Yeah, but you have to admit, getting somebody to pay you, even once, for something you don't hav
e
is
pretty
damned good."

"Tell me, Charley. Tell me how you did it." He was running on ego now. He'd tell her the story, though she'd have to figure out for herself how much of it was true.

"I was still living in Silver Creek. It's a small, hick town, and I wanted to get out of there, move to the big city. So one night I was in an alley when—"

"Wh
at were you doing in an
alley?"

"Hanging out." He cleared his throat and shifted, sinking
in
to the mattress
slightly
. "Until my date's husband left the bar. Anyway, I'm hidden in the shadows when I see this big black
Cadillac
pull down the alley. Like I said, Silver Creek is small. Not many
Cadillacs
around. Kind of strange to see one in that part of town, going down a dark alley, so I kept still and watched."

Charley was really getting into his story, his eyes sparkling, his voice exuberant, his body rising about an inch off the bed. Amanda forced herself to ignore that little oddity.

"My patience paid off. The car pulls up next to a trash bin, and His Honor, Mayor Kimball, opens the door and gets out holding a plastic bag like from a grocery store. He's not ten feet from me, so I can see he's got red spots on his white shirt." He paused and leaned forward slightly, ever the storyteller. "Blood?" Another pause, and he leaned back. "So I stand there watching, not moving a muscle, knowing I'm about to see something important."

"Are we going to get to the point of this story before I die of old age and join you hovering over that bed?"

Charley smiled and straightened. "That's very touching, Amanda, that you plan to join me in bed after you die."

Amanda glared.

Charley lifted his hands, palms out. "Okay, okay! So Kimball tosses the bag into the dumpster, and it makes a nice solid
clunk
when it hits the other garbage. Something small and heavy in that bag. Add that to the red spots on his shirt, and this story is getting real interesting. Kimball looks around, acting suspicious, then he jumps back in his car and speeds away. I figured whatever His Honor tossed into that dumpster, I needed to have it."

Amanda snorted. "Mr. Fastidious, climbing into a garbage container? Sure wish I could have seen that!"

"It wasn't exactly my idea
of
fun
on a
Saturday night, but I had a hunch it might be worth it. I grabbed hold of the handle and hoisted myself up. Fortunately, it was almost full, so I leaned over the edge and was just able to reach that little plastic bag. I pulled up, and
it
fell out."

Charley paused, and Amanda, rolling her eyes, took her cue and supplied her line. "What fell out?"

"A gun. I reached to pick it up, when suddenly…" He did the
pause, lean forward
thing again. "Bam!"

Amanda gasped
, startled in spite of herself
.

"My date's husband comes charging out the back door of the bar,
grabs my legs and yanks
. He's a big man, but I fight him off and get away. Had to run all the way through the town, though, and that kind of took my mind off His Honor's throw-away."

Amanda thought about reminding Charley that he had just told her the town was small, so
all the way
couldn't be very far, but she decide
d to let it go since he was in the zone of his storytelling
.

He
crossed his legs and dangled his arms over them. Casual, relaxed…floating
several inches
above the mattress.

"The next day
,
big story all over the news, murder in Silver Creek. Local woman, Dianne
Carter
. Looked like a
carjacking
. Happened in a secluded spot out by the lake. Her husband said she'd left to go to the grocery store about eight o'clock that evening and never made it back home. Word around town was that it was some druggie passing through, some guy who maybe saw her at the grocery store, forced her into her car, made her drive out to the lake, took the cash from her purse and shot her. But I wondered." Another pause for dramatic effect.

Amanda obliged him. "Okay, I'll bite. How did you link the mayor in the alley with the lady at the lake?"

"It was obvious. Kimball's a few years older than me, but everybody knew him. He was the rich kid, class president, most likely to succeed, all that stuff. Dianne wasn't rich, but she was popular. Homecoming queen, head cheerleader, the girl next door that every guy wanted to be with. But in her
senior
year, she started dating Kimball. They were the king and queen. Everybody thought they'd get married, but something happened when they were at college in
Austin
. They both came back, married other people and
never spoke to each other again
."

Amanda waited, knowing Charley would get to the point eventually. He loved being the center of attention and milked every opportunity.

"So after I saw the story in the newspaper, I got to thinking about Dianne's death and Kimball's visit to the alley right around the time she was killed. It would have been great if I could have got Kimball's gun, but when I went back, the trash had already been hauled off." He sighed. "Luck was not on my side. I didn't have anything except a theory. But, fortunately, I've always had the ability to make my own luck. I called Kimball. Couldn't get through to him, of course, not an important man like him. I left a message telling him I had something he'd dropped the night before. Anyway, long story short—"

"A little late for that, isn't it?"

Charley ignored her. "He met me in
a
bar, and I told him I had the gun he'd tossed into the trash, the gun he used to kill Dianne. I told him unless he paid me twenty-five thousand dollars, I was going to take that gun to the police. He paid me,
but I couldn't give him the gun because I didn't have it, so
I
left town
, and everything was fine until a couple of weeks ago."

He paused. Dramatic effect.

"And?" Amanda urged.

"Well, you left me and filed for divorce and I had to get my own apartment and pay a lawyer, so I needed money."

"My fault, of course."

"I didn't say that, but if you're feeling guilty…"

"I'm not."

"Anyway, I needed money, and Kimball's getting ready to make a bid for governor, so I called and told him I wanted another payment."

Amanda groaned. "Oh, Charley! That was crazy."

"Yeah, I guess, but I was desperate. Kimball was pretty upset. He said he'd only give me more money if I gave him the gun
first
this time
." Charley shrugged. "I couldn't very well give him
what I didn't have
. I thought I'd better just let that one go
and
never called him again. A couple of weeks later, he slips right past that lousy lock on my door and walks into my living room wearing motorcycle leathers and a helmet—"

"That's why nobody saw anything! Your neighbors would have thought that was you." Then another thought hit her. "Or me."

He nodded. "Yeah, he explained all that to me
before he killed me
."

"Some maniac comes to your apartment and threatens you,
so
you
call me to
come over there? Nice, Charley. That shows real concern for me.
"

Charley actually looked somewhat abashed. "I
t wasn't like that.
He forced me to call you and tell you to bring the gun
after I told him I didn't have it because I left it
at
your apartment
. And if you'd brought the gun
like I asked you
, I could have given it to him
and I might still be alive."

Amanda sprang to her feet, hands on her hips. "You are
not
going to blame this one on me, Charley Randolph! If I'd showed up with that gun, he'd have killed you anyway. This whole thing is totally on you!"

Charley lifted his arms in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, okay! Anyway, you showed up without the gun. I tried to keep you out
of
my apartment. I was t
r
ying to protect you. But you shoved your way inside."

"Yes, I did!" Amanda settled back into her chair. "I wanted to see what you had in there that you were so anxious to hide from me. And you know what I saw? N
othing
! No mysterious stranger. No Kimball."

"He was behind the door. I got you out of there before he saw you and killed you.
" He sighed. "I didn't know then he'd already jacked with your bike so you'd have a wreck an
d die
. He told me that just before he shot me.
Then he
came over here and stole your gun, and
I saved your life, and
here I am. End of story."

Amanda shot up from her chair again. "End? This is not even close to the end of the story! The cops think I killed you. I could get sent to prison!"

"Well, Amanda, it's not like you didn't threaten to do just that more than once."

"And you deserved to be murdered by me, but that didn't happen because somebody else beat me to it, and I shouldn't have to go to prison for something I didn't have the pleasure of doing!"

Charley brightened. "Well, now I've told you the real story, you can tell the cops, and they'll arrest Kimball, and
you'll be safe
, thanks to yours truly. Presto, white light, angel wings and all that good stuff."