The Prey Bites Back: A Jesse Watson Mystery Book #8 (32 page)

“I fix coffee
for y’all, and a lot of times I drink it, too, but tea is my favorite. And…
there’s something about tea that helps dissolve tablets. I learned that a while
back when I was taking some medication. I had a hard time swallowing pills, so
I’d just toss one in a cup of hot tea. Did the trick.”

I got up from
the table, walked over to Dakota, and then stared down at her. “She isn’t so
tough anymore.” I grabbed her hair, jerked her head back, and then slapped her
across the face.

Helene looked
shocked by my actions. “Hey… crazy lady. What are you doing? She’s out. No need
to beat her up.”

“I’m not
beating her up. I’m waking her up.” I walked over to the sink, filled a glass
with water, and then walked back over to Dakota. When I threw the water in her
face, she stirred and shook the water from her face.

Billy got up
from the table, walked over and stood next to me. “Let’s liven up this party.
Slap her again. I think she’s coming around.”

I slapped her
once more.

Helene looked
away. She wasn’t accustomed to seeing someone get slapped around, but then her
curiosity got the best of her and she looked back at us.

Dakota blinked
a couple of times before opening her eyes. She tried to focus in on her
surroundings. She glanced around, looked down at herself, and then looked back
up at us. A moment later, she gave us an evil, stab-you-in-the-eye look. She
looked like she was stone-drunk, but her words were cold sober. “You’re going
to be sorry you ever met me.”

I leaned over
and whispered in her ear. “We already are. We’re sorry we ever laid eyes on
you. You’re a killer.”

She closed her
eyes and dropped her head. Then, she looked back up at me. “You’re… crazy. I
haven’t… killed anyone.”

I stepped back,
crossed my arms, and let out a sigh. “Now you see, Dakota, that’s just not
true. You’re a killer, and you’re the worst kind. You kill your friends, your
lover, and people who trust you. You’re heartless, and you have no remorse. I
can see it in your eyes.”

I filled the
glass again and tossed the water in her face.

She shook the
water from her face and gasped for breath. She was starting to slowly come
around. She opened her eyes, and then jerked back and forth in the chair. She
was trying to break free of her restraints, cursing all the while.

“Is this coffee
left over from this morning, Helene?”

“Yes, but I cut
off the pot, so it’s probably cold.”

“That’s the way
I want it.” Billy walked over to the coffee pot, poured some into a cup, and
then walked back over to Dakota. He grabbed her by the chin, held her head
back, and poured the coffee in her mouth. “Drink up. If you spit it out, I’ll
just pour more in.”

At first she
spit out the coffee and then coughed as if she was choking.

“Here we go
again.” Billy poured more coffee in her mouth, and this time she swallowed it.
“That’s better. Let’s try again.”

“Why are you
doing that, Billy? She’s going to choke to death.”

“I’m not going
to let that happen. I’m trying to get some caffeine in her body, otherwise,
she’s going to be in for a long nap.”

“Prozac… shove
one of those pills down her throat and you’ll have to pull her off the ceiling.
When my husband died, the doctor put me on Prozac and Valium. The Valium
worked, but the Prozac jacked me up so much, I refused to take anymore. I still
have the bottle. It’s in my bathroom cabinet. I guess they’re still good. It
was the Valium that I was talking about putting in my tea.”

“Hold it. I
don’t like the idea of giving Dakota that drug. What if she’s allergic to it?”

“Maybe we’ll
pass on the pill, Helene. I think we’ll stick with the coffee.” He poured the
last of the coffee in her mouth, and she swallowed it again. Then, he walked
back to the kitchen and refilled the cup. 

I looked over
at Helene. “Maisy said she was hungry. Would you mind fixing the kids a
sandwich?”

“But it’s
almost dinnertime. You want them to eat sandwiches before dinner?”

“Dinner might
have to wait for a while, Helene. We’re going to get the truth out of her
before we do anything else.”

Helene
hesitated as if she couldn’t grasp my illogical timing. She was watching us try
to interrogate Dakota, and right in the middle, I ask her to go feed the kids.
I’m sure she wondered whether I thought they would starve if she didn’t give
them something to eat right then.

“But I want to
be here. I want to hear what she has to say.” She glared at Dakota with a
menacing look. “You might as well tell them what they want to know. Billy knows
all kinds of ways of extracting information from a criminal like you… and it
won’t be fun. You don’t stand a chance.”

Helene went to
the kitchen, mumbling under her breath. “Yep, I’m gonna miss it all. Gotta fix
sandwiches right this minute. Just can’t wait.” She prepared the sandwiches and
walked out, still mumbling to herself.

I called to
her. “Come back when the kids finish eating. By then, we’ll just be getting to
the good part.”

Helene picked
up the pace.

Billy continued
with the coffee, until Dakota put a stop to it. “Enough. It’s making me sick…
to my… stomach.” She leaned over, puked, and then pleaded for a washcloth.

Billy went to
the kitchen, got a hand towel, and then dabbed her mouth. He tossed the towel
on the dining room table and held up the cup. “Ready?”

Dakota stared
up at Billy with droopy eyes. “No… no more.”

Billy stepped
back. “Just trying to wake you up.”

I grabbed a
chair from the table, turned it my way, and then straddled it. I scooted closer
to Dakota and propped my arms up on the back of the chair. “This is going to be
long and ugly, unless you wanna skip the niceties and get down to business.
It’s your choice. You can tell us what we want to know, or Billy can beat it
out of you. Myself… I don’t care one way or the other, but before we turn you
over to the sheriff, we’re going to have our answers.” I leaned in. “You’re a
bad person. You tried to have my mother killed. If you die in this chair, it
won’t hurt my feelings a bit.” I smiled wickedly at her as I lied. “Your
boyfriend, Gavin Preston died in this chair. Oh, we slapped him around a bit, and
that was fun, but it was your poison that killed him. Anti-freeze, really?
Don’t you know that stuff shows up on a tox screen? What were you thinking… or
did you just not care? I’m betting you thought you were going to get away… run
from the devastation you caused… start a new life. That ain’t gonna happen.”

I was surprised
when Billy reached down, pulled a knife from his boot, and then pressed the
shiny blade up against her face. “I going to ask you a question, and if you
lie, I’m going to cut you. I’ll start with your face.”

Her droopy eyes
widened.

I had to wonder
if he really would. Could he do that? This wasn’t the man I know. The man I
know would never be so cruel. But then, I had to think about his actions. You
see, most people fear Indians. They have a preconceived notion that they’re all
like the ones they used to see in the old westerns where the Indians kill the
white man and then scalp him, women included. Maybe that’s what Billy was doing.
He was trying to bring back those memories of another time, and that old fear.
I sat there and said nothing, waiting for Billy’s question and her response. If
she lied, what would he do then?

Dakota
trembled, keeping her eye on the knife the whole time. She was awake now, and
she didn’t move an inch. “It’s over… I give up… what do you want to know?” Tears
ran down her face.

I mocked her.
“Ah, the woman cries. I didn’t know you had it in you, Dakota. Oh, that’s right,
your name isn’t really Dakota, is it? What about your girlfriend, Olivia?
What’s her real name? Where did you come from? How many people have you
killed?”

Dakota kept
watch on the knife as sweat beaded on her forehead and then ran down her face,
mingling with her tears. “Make him… take the knife… from my face.”

It was obvious
that she wasn’t going to be able to withstand a brutal interrogation. The
thought of having her face scarred for life and her body being used as a punching
bag must’ve gotten to her… or maybe, it was the idea that she might actually
die where she sat… at the hands of an Indian prone to killing and scalping
people. Yep, that last one must’ve done the trick.

Billy took the
knife from her face, but held it close by. “Instead of wasting my time with a
bunch of questions, why don’t you just tell us what turned you into a killer?
You can start your story by telling us who you are. We’ll go from there.” He
grabbed a chair, sat down, and then crossed his legs, the knife still in his
hand, resting on his lap. “I’m waiting.” He leaned forward. “And remember, the
first time you lie to me, I’m cutting you. That ought to really wake you up.”
He waved the knife to validate his promise, and then slapped it across his legs.

Dakota jumped
and almost tipped over the chair. She regained her composure somewhat and began
her tale, knowing that if she lied, she was doomed to die… or so she thought.

She was still
doped up, but she managed to tell her tale. “Six years ago, I was married to a
man that everyone loved. He was nice to everyone except me. Oh, he started out
like the perfect husband, but it wasn’t long until his dark side came out. He beat
me… always screamed at me. I tolerated it. I didn’t know what to do. Then, one
day he went too far.”

Her tears dried
up, and her eyes opened wider. She was slowly coming out of her stupor. “We
were on our way to visit his folks when he went ballistic after I told him I
wanted to spend more time with my sister. He hated her. He pulled the car off
the road… got out and dragged me out of the car. He dragged me to the woods and
started knocking me around. I was in shock. He’d been brutal… so many times,
but this time was different. This was the end of the road for me, and I knew it
when I looked into those dark, menacing, evil eyes. He’d snapped and was going
to beat me to death. Finally, he hit me so hard he knocked me to the ground.
The place was littered with trash, condoms… nasty junk. He jumped on me… raised
his hand back… I grabbed the first thing I could… I cut his throat with a
broken bottle. He fell on me, making a gurgling sound. I was covered in his
blood. I sat there on that damp and nasty ground, trying to come to grips with
what I had done.”

“You were just
defending yourself,” Helene said, coming back into the room. She walked over to
the sink and set the dishes down. “No one would blame you for that.”

“Yes… they would.
I know what happens in cases like these. I’d go to prison. Nobody would care
that my husband beat me. No, all they’d see was a woman who murdered her
husband. So, I called 9-1-1… said we’d been attacked by a hitchhiker my husband
picked up. I told them the guy had killed my husband and was going to kill me.
I screamed and cried for them to come save me. Then, I got in the car and drove
off. Later, I dumped the car in a Wal-Mart parking lot. My sister and I
disappeared. We took the money our folks left us… changed our looks… got a new
identity.”

“So… Olivia’s
your sister.”

“Yes… but her
name isn’t Olivia… its Bernice. I’m Denise… Denise Sutton. You might’ve read
something in the paper about me. They never found my body. The case went cold
and off the radar. We laid low for over a year. They stopped looking, so we
came here.
The Body Shop
was my idea.”

Billy leaned
back. “Whose idea was it to start the killing?”

“Roger preyed on
me like a hawk. Do you know what that’s like? A hawk swoops down with razor
sharp talons, snatches his prey by the neck, and squeezes until the prey is
beaten… dead.”

Helene walked
over to her. “Ah… so… the prey bites back.”

“Exactly. Why
not? They deserved it. They beat their wives just like Roger beat me. Someone
had to stop them… so I did. I made them pay for their crimes, and it made me
feel good to do it. I helped those women.”

I rolled my eyes
and shook my head. “You helped no one but yourself. You wanted to make every
man pay for what your husband had done to you. You wanted revenge. You got a
charge out of it. That’s sick.”

“That’s right, I am
sick.” Dakota was now more alert. “Roger banged me up pretty bad. I was
bruised, cut, you name it. Bernice got me to a doctor. He patched me up. Then,
I had that nervous breakdown. Killing Roger made me sick. Bernice took me to
see a psychiatrist, but I never told him that I killed my husband. Kept that
one to myself. I wasn’t that insane. Bernice told the doctor that Roger beat me
and would kill me if he found me, so the doctor helped us out. Kept everything
on the down-low. Things were going well, until you showed up. You caused me
nothing but trouble. We were happy with our lives, and you took that away from
me when you meddled in my business and killed my sister.”

“You killed your
sister, not me. You still don’t see that, do you? It was your fault. Maybe you
should go back and see that doctor again. You’re nuts. You belong in a loony
bin. You might’ve been an innocent victim when you killed Roger, but that ended
when you started killing other people. Now, you’re going to get the needle.”