Authors: Laurien Berenson

Tags: #Suspense

Underdog (28 page)

BOOK: Underdog

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She gave me a pitying look as if I was being entirely too slow and after a moment, I realized I was. All that business about Dirk had been a distraction, a detour she'd thrown my way while she figured out what to do next. Like a sap, I'd been too busy being ambivalent to take her as seriously as I should have.

“You think you know so much,” Angie said. “You don't know anything. I don't need protection from Dirk. He's the one who was supposed to be looking out for me. And Jenny, too. That's a laugh, isn't it?”

She didn't sound as though she found anything about the situation to be even vaguely humorous. The gun in her hand never wavered. I wondered if it was loaded. I wondered if she knew how to use it. At this short range, it probably didn't even matter. Then I thought about what she'd just said.

“What do you mean Dirk was supposed to be looking out for you?”

“It turns out he's been giving reports to my mother for years. She's been paying him to keep an eye on us all this time, and we never even knew it. As if that big oaf could ever be trusted to get things right!”

“So that's what you were fighting about with your mother earlier.”

Angie shot me a glare. “I guess Dirk isn't the only spy around here.”

“Is that why he was in the building early this morning?”

“Yeah, it's ironic, isn't it? He was here to see my mother before judging started.”

“And he saw you leave that cup of coffee at Harry Flynn's set-up.”

“I guess I should have been paying more attention,” said Angie. It was the first time I'd heard her admit she'd done anything wrong.

“Did he tell the police?”

“No, and he won't either. My parents are taking care of that. Roger and Lavinia Peterson. They can put a good face on anything, didn't you know that?”

Her tone was bitter. I wondered if she actually believed what she was saying. The Petersons were a power in the dog show world, but Angie would have to be insane to think they could cover up a murder. Then again, she probably was. Otherwise, I wouldn't be standing there with a gun pointed at my middle.

“What about Jenny's death?” I asked incredulously. “Are your parents willing to overlook that, too?”

“They blame Rick for what happened to her. That part was easy. They never liked him much anyway.”

Easy. How could she possibly feel that anything about murdering her own sister had been
easy?
I'd thought that when I had some answers, I'd begin to understand. But I didn't. None of this made any sense to me at all.

“You liked Rick, didn't you?” I asked. “More than a brother-in-law. More than just a friend.”

“You don't know anything!”

“You're right.” I braced back and hiked myself up onto the grooming table. Sitting gave me a small feeling of security, like it meant I was going to be there for a while. “Why don't you tell me about it.”

“Why should I?”

“Maybe it will make you feel better.”

“You mean, like a confession? I don't think so.”

“Jenny was your
sister.”

“As if I could have missed that fact,” Angie snapped. “As if I could have ever, for one moment, have gotten out from behind her shadow. Jenny was always the favorite, the one things came easily to. Good grades, good dogsâanything she ever wanted, all she had to do was snap her fingers and it was hers.”

“You were jealous.”

“Not of who she was. Just of what she got. Jenny was always the center of attention. Everybody thought she was so wonderful. I was smart, too. I was good with the dogs. But nobody ever noticed because Jenny . . . was . . .
always. . . there.”

Angie spaced her words for emphasis, to make sure that I got the point. I nodded, not taking my eyes off her. If I'd had a gun in my hand, I'd have been sweating. But the opposite was true of Angie. She seemed calmer now, more sure that she was in control. That was good. It meant I might be able to keep her talking, which was certainly preferable to any other alternative I could come up with.

“So you figured out a way to make Jenny disappear.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!” Angie said violently. “It wasn't supposed to happen like that. I never meant for her to die.”

I wondered if that were true, or if it was something she'd convinced herself of afterward in order to soothe her conscience. “You poisoned her with arsenic.”

“I only meant to make her sick. Jenny never took a day off, not ever. I wanted a chance to show what I could do, but she was always there in my way. She wasn't supposed to die, honest. I thought I could control it.”

“Just like your parents controlled the dosage they gave the show dogs when you were little.”

“Right.” Angie nodded. “I started putting it in her morning coffee. I thought that would be enough, but it wasn't.”

So she'd upped the dose. Jenny had collapsed and died after dinner. And Angie had calmly gone on about life, immediately setting her sights on the fame and fortune that had eluded her up until that point.

I still hadn't seen any sign of remorse. Now I was beginning to doubt that I ever would. No wonder Angie had been able to fool meâto fool everybodyâfor so long. From her warped point of view, getting rid of Jenny had been the right thing, the only thing, to do. Even if it meant getting rid of her for good.

Casually, I let my gaze drift around the area. It seemed like eons had passed since she'd pulled out the gun; but in reality I supposed it was only minutes. The security guard wasn't in sight. Nor had anyone come over to our end of the grooming area to do a late night check of their dogs.

“What about Harry Flynn?” I asked.

“Everybody hated him.”

As if that made it all right. “Harry was beginning to beat you with his Springer. Was that why you killed him?”

“Of course not.” Angie looked at me as though I was dense. “He knew.”

For a moment I had no idea what she meant. Then I realized she was talking about Jenny's death. Harry must have known about Angie's part in it. But that didn't make sense; surely she wouldn't have been stupid enough to tell him.

“How did he find out?”

Angie sighed heavily. “I got the arsenic from him. Fowler's solution. You used to be able to buy it at the drugstore. But not anymore. Now there are laws. I was stuck until I thought of Harry.”

“Where did he get it?”

“How should I know? I guess he still had his connections from way back. He said it wasn't a problem.”

“Did he know what you planned to do with it?”

“I told him it was for a dog.”

I shook my head, disbelieving. “Harry Flynn competed against youâtooth and nail, from what I've seen. Why would he have agreed to help you?”

“Back then, I wasn't the one he was competing against. I was only the little sister that nobody ever noticed.” The bitterness was back in her tone. “If he had any suspicions, so what? Anything that put Jenny out of commission for a while could only work to his benefit.”

She was right about that. Of course, later, the same would have been true about Angie. Harry Flynn had been an opportunist. So why hadn't he told what he knew?

“Are you kidding?” Angie said when I asked. “I would have taken him down with me and he knew it. I'd have told the police that he coerced me into doing something terrible, something I never should have done. And who do you think they would have believed? Jenny's grieving baby sister, or a man who's held a public grudge against the Maguires for years?”

I remembered the story Aunt Peg had told me about Harry trying to get one of Jenny's dogs disqualified. Everyone had been aware of the animosity between him and Jenny Maguire. Angie was right. Harry would have had a hard time making his story stick.

“If he wasn't going to tell, why did you kill him?”

“I didn't have any choice. He overheard me talking to Mrs. Byrd at Fitchburg. About how I wanted Charlie to go on showing next year. Harry called a couple of days later. He said next year was his turn, and if I tried to get in his way, I was going to be sorry.”

“So you poisoned him too.”

“I had to. Don't you see? He was going to ruin me. What happened to Jenny was an accident. But Harry was going to make it look as though I were to blame. I couldn't let him do that.”

Angie stared at me, her expression hardening. “And I can't let you do it either. I've waited my whole life to be where I am now. You're not going to take that away from me. The police don't have any connections in the dog world. Once you're gone, they'll never be able to put it all together.”

“I'm not going anywhere.” I tried to sound firm, but I could hear my voice wavering.

“Yes, you are.” Angie took a step forward. She gestured with her gun hand and I realized I was meant to stand. “For starters, we're going to leave the building together.”

Right. That was about the last thing that was going to happen. Outside, I'd have no defense. At least in here, there was a chance. Eventually, the guard was bound to come by to tell us he was closing things up.

I slid another look around. There was nobody within earshot. Even the boom box on the other side of the building had been silenced. The place had been relatively empty before. Now it was deserted.

“Come on,” Angie said impatiently. “Let's go.”

I grasped the edge of the grooming table and hopped down. Slowly. “Do you know how to use that thing?”

“Sure,” said Angie. Now that we were both standing, with a deadly weapon filling the space between us, her voice didn't sound any steadier than mine. “Point, and shoot. Don't worry, I won't miss.”

I wasn't worried about that at all. On one side, the narrow aisle was blocked by the ex pen. On the other was the big hair dryer I'd pushed out of my way earlier.

“Go on,” Angie said between gritted teeth when I hesitated. “Just get through. I'll be right behind you.”

Quickly I weighed my options. The exercise pen was no help; but the hair dryer had possibilities. The heavy engine piece stood upright on a three-legged base. Attached to it was a fourteen-inch steel nozzle. The machine was meant to free your hands for other uses; the thick nozzle swiveled, swung, and moved up and down.

“This way.” I nudged the grooming table to one side with my hip and stepped carefully over the four-legged base. Like a sheep, Angie fell in behind me. The hair dryer was so much a part of each set-up that I knew she hadn't given it a thought. Always the little sister, always the follower, never the one in charge.

I hoped she hadn't changed too much in the last six weeks.

I took two more steps, then glanced back over my shoulder. Angie's eyes were downcast; she had to watch where she was going so her feet didn't get tangled up in the stand. I wished the nozzle was on the right sideâAngie's gun sideâbut I'd take what I could get.

I lifted both hands and gave the metal tube a hard shove. It swung around in a short arc and crashed into her shoulder with a satisfying thud.

Angie screeched and staggered sideways. If the grooming table hadn't been in her way, she would have fallen. As she lost her balance, one foot caught in the dryer's base. Her leg twisted beneath her and her injured arm flew up in the air. I grabbed her other wrist and slammed it hard against the edge of the table.

Her fingers opened and the gun fell from her grasp. It hit the concrete floor, bounced once, then fired.

The boom echoed through the building. Immediately dogs all around us began to bark. I was so busy trying to figure out where the gun had been pointing when it went off that I didn't see Angie's fist coming until just before it connected with my jaw.

Pain exploded in my head. Everything went black, then bright white. Through eyes swimming with tears, I saw Angie scrambling on the floor for the gun. I reached around for the dryer, lifted it off its base and swung the nozzle once more. It caught her on the back of the head and she crumpled.

The table gave way as Angie fell beneath it. I had just enough energy left to kick the gun. It skittered away out of reach. The hair dryer weighed a ton and I let it fall too.

I thought I heard people yelling. I knew I heard dogs barking. I'll close my eyes for just a second, I thought.

God, I had a headache.