Read Whiskey Rebellion (Romantic Mystery/Comedy) Book 1 (Addison Holmes Mysteries) Online
Authors: Liliana Hart
I stopped and tried to slow my breathing when I heard the distinct sound of the phone slamming down and footsteps on the tile. I picked up my purse from the table I’d set it on and prepared to give excuses why I had to run off.
I was standing behind a chair when he came into the room so my feet were hidden. “I’m sorry to fall apart on you like that,” I said with a tremulous smile. I hoped my shaking voice was only in my imagination and not in reality. “I’ve just been through so much lately.”
He looked me over like he was just seeing me for the first time. Did I look like someone who had just climbed a trellis and snooped through all his things? I had no idea, but his pensive look couldn’t be a good sign.
“Thanks for hearing me out. I know I sounded crazy. It’s been a difficult couple of weeks, and I don’t know what I’m talking about.” I backed away toward the entryway and thought this might be a good time for those plainclothes cops eating donuts in the dark blue sedan to make an appearance. “I’ve got to be going though. I’ve got an appointment I can’t miss,” I fibbed.
“Sure, sure. Let me walk you out,” he said with a broad smile.
We were back in the cold marble entryway when I felt a cool rush of air against my neck and a sharp pain in the back of my skull.
I woke up crammed into a tiny box, and I could tell by the strong smell of cedar that it was some kind of keepsake chest like the one my mom used to have.
My head was pounding and the lack of oxygen wasn’t making it better. I brought my arm up as best I could and
touched the lump on the back of my head. The slippery wetness of blood between my fingers escalated my panic.
I didn’t know if I was still inside the Hyatt mansion, but I could hear
John’s voice coming from somewhere. And then I heard the voice of a woman.
“What the hell are we going to do with her? There are cops sitting down the street watching our every move. They’re not going to let us waltz out with a body and shove it in the trunk,” the woman said.
“Did you move her car?” John asked.
“Yeah, I put on one of your dark wigs and took the keys out of her purse. I left the car at the park. I’m so sorry, John. I know this is all my fault, but I just love you so much.”
“I love you, too, but there has to be a way to get out of this mess. You shouldn’t have followed me to The Foxy Lady. Now three people are dead because of your jealousy.”
“I did it to protect you. I thought you were starting to love Greg more than me, and when I saw the two of you together at
that club I was just so angry. I knew the moment that principal looked at you he realized who you were, even with the disguise. I had to make sure your secret stayed safe. And this wouldn’t even be an issue if Greg had just died like he was supposed to.”
“I know, babe. You did what you thought you had to. And I did what I had to do to protect both of us
, but there was no need for you to be jealous of Greg. He was a distraction. A one-time thing. You’re the one I love.”
“How could I n
ot be jealous? I’m your fiancée. Why would I want to share you with anyone when what we have is so special, so unique?
“Be that as it may, we have another problem on our hands. How did
the Holmes girl get involved in this, and better yet, what are we going to do with her?”
“That’s my fault,” Fanny said, sounding as if she were near tears. “I hired a detective agency to keep tabs on you. If you’d cheat once then I was sure it was only a matter of time before it happened again.”
“Wait. You hired a detective agency? Are you nuts?” John yelled. “Detective agencies are good at finding things out, Fanny. No wonder Addison Holmes has been snooping around. She
mentioned she just started working for them last week. Even as inept as she is, there were bound to be one or two important details regarding our pastimes that would be impossible for her to miss.”
“Well you shouldn’t have cheated on me,” Fanny yelled back. “I told you I wasn’t thinking straight. I was upset. That’s what happens when the person you love betrays you. Besides, I told her I changed my mind about the investigation. She was supposed to stop.”
I groaned from the ache in my head and the fact that John Hyatt and Fanny Kimble were Cracker Jack crazy. From what I could understand John Hyatt dressed up as Loretta Swanson and Fanny Kimble dressed up as Loretta’s main squeeze so they could spice up their sex life. The only problem was that John got a little carried away and used his alter ego to live a second life. One that didn’t include Fanny.
“Be quiet for a second,” John hissed. “Do you think she’s waking up?”
I could practically hear them breathing as they leaned over the chest. I was as weak as a kitten and wasn’t sure I’d be able to fight them off. The scrape of the key and the snick of the lock opening rang loud in my ears. I closed my eyes and feigned unconsciousness, while the pulse in the side of my neck beat frantically
“What should we do with her?” Fanny asked. “Do you think we could get her to promise not to say anything if we let her go?”
“You know we can’t let her go. She won’t be able to keep it to herself.”
“But I don’t want to kill her.
There have already been too many deaths. And her mother would hound everybody in town until she had a search party gathered and every house searched. Can’t you just bash her over the head hard enough so she gets amnesia?”
I could hear John sigh in frustration. “You know we have to get rid of her, Fanny. This will be the last time. I swear. We just have to figure out how to get her out of the house without anyone noticing.”
John hoisted me over his shoulder and it was everything I could do not to groan in pain and give myself away. I took a quick glance around and noticed we were still in the living room before I closed my eyes again.
“I had to give my mother daily morphine injections before she died,” John said. “I still have the syringes and medication. I’ll just give her more than the normal dosage. It’ll be quick and it won’t be messy.”
“Take her to the guest room,” Fanny said. “We can keep her there until it gets dark and then we can move her.”
John headed out of the living room with me,
and I knew I’d never get out alive if I didn’t do something quick. I hung limply with my arms hanging down his back, and when we passed a low table I grabbed a heavy candlestick and hit him in the back of the knee.
We both went down in a screaming he
ap, but I had fear on my side, so I kicked and clawed until his hands loosened their grip. Spots danced in front of my eyes and a thin sheen of sweat gathered over my clammy body. It wouldn’t be long before I was passed out in a heap on the floor, so I scrambled off the ground and ran for my life.
Fanny
stood her ground and blocked my way, so I squinted my eyes and channeled my inner middle linebacker before running right through her. We crashed over a table, and glass shattered around us. Pillows, overturned lamps, and a broken candy dish filled with sugared almonds littered the floor around us.
I had Fanny in a headlock and was trying to get her to stay down so I would have a chance to escape, but
my palms were slicked with sweat and the blood that dripped down the back of my neck was more than a little distracting. John Hyatt came up behind me and pulled at my arms and legs like I was a human wishbone, and my screams echoed through the room.
“Let her go, you bitch!
You’re hurting her,” he yelled.
I knew I was losing, so
I let my body go slack. John gave a great heave as he threw me from Fanny’s body. Everything seemed to go in slow motion from there. I flew through the air, and I knew when I landed it was going to hurt like hell. I got satisfaction in seeing a swarm of cops enter the room with guns drawn just before I hit the long expanse of glass windows at the back of the living room.
I tucked my head and tried to roll into a ball as the
window gave and shattered at my back. My last thought was that I hoped the glass wouldn’t leave scars.
“Addison—“
I heard the sound of my name in the dis
tance, a persistent buzzing I wanted to ignore but found impossible to do.
“Let me die in peace,” I said.
I lay spread eagle on the ground. My head hurt worse than it had a half hour ago, and I couldn’t feel my legs. I didn’t want to open my eyes and see the damage, but the annoying drone of my name being called didn’t give me any other choice.
The flutter of the leaves on the trees above me was hypnotizing, and the ground was hard below me. In my imagination I was in a tropical paradise where there was no pain. I thought about swaying in the breeze on a hammock, a tall glass of lemonade in my hand and a half-naked man fanning me with giant palm leaves.
“Earth to Addison,” the voice said again.
“I should’ve known it was you,” I said to Nick.
His face looked strained and worried. “How many fingers?” he asked.
“A million. What happened to John and Fanny? Did they get away?”
Nick was doing some deep breathing exercises, and I realized he was as angry as I’d ever seen him before. I had a sinking suspicion he was angry with me.
“Please don’t yell at me yet. I think I need some Tylenol first.
I know you’re angry,” I said, licking my lips.
“Do ya think? I just watched your body fly twenty feet and crash through a plate glass window like you were on an episode of Smackdown. I ought to lock you up. Unfortunately we can’t arrest people for being stupid.”
“Don’t call me stupid. I was trying to gather evidence so you could make an arrest since you seemed to be a little inept when it came to tracking down vicious killers. I was going to give you the information once I’d left here.”
“I had a tap on his phone, and I was waiting for a warrant to come through to search the premises when you made your grand entrance. Fortunately, I’m aware of your tendency towards dumb luck and ordered the cops watching the house to let me know when and if you showed up.”
I gasped at this admission. “You didn’t trust me.”
“Not as far as I could throw you. I’ve got everything I need to put these two away for a long time, and I had it all before you showed up. The only difference is my hands were tied because I had to go through legal channels.”
My head was pounding, and I wanted nothing more than to go home and crawl under the covers for the rest of my life.
“I think I need to go home,” I said, closing my tired eyes.
“From the looks of you, I think a trip to the hospital is the better choice. Let’s have the paramedics check you out.”
“Fine. Whatever. I’m too tired and sore to argue.”
“That’s a first. Hey,” he said, brushing the hair back from my face. “For a minute there I was really worried. Maybe you can take up skydiving or NASCAR instead of hunting down criminals.”
Nick was looking at me with an expression I’d never seen before, and if my head hadn’t been pounding so badly I would have given it more thought. From the way my body was aching, I was pretty sure the craziest hobby I wanted to take up was knitting. Though with my luck I’d end up stabbing myself in the eye with one of the needles.
It took more than a week for me to be able to sit without a rubber donut or operate heavy machinery due to painkillers, but I hadn’t been left out of the loop just because Nick was too busy cleaning up loose ends to fill me in. I’d had Kate and the rest of the town to keep me up to date.
John Hyatt and Fanny Kimble were both arrested and taken off to the jail in Savannah, both of them trying to place the blame on the other. I don’t think there’s much chance of their relationship lasting. Call me crazy. They did confess to the murders in front of a witness—me—so I’ll be testifying at their upcoming trials.
On the personal front, things have gone to hell in a handbasket. Mostly. Rudy Bauer at the Gazette did some digging and found out I’d been stripping at The Foxy Lady the day of Mr. Butler’s murder. My bad judgment made the front page of the weekly paper, sharing equal space with the story of John Hyatt dressing like a woman. Once the school board got word of my transgression, I was immediately put on probation pending a more thorough investigation, so I don’t know if I’ll have a job come fall or not.
The possibility of being unemployed has made up my mind about getting my private investigator’s license. I found a correspondence course that was reasonably affordable, and Kate said she’d keep me on at her agency as a contract employee until I take my final test.
In less than a month’s time, my apartment building will be no more than a pile of rubble. I have no idea where I’m going to go now that someone else has bought the house on Hutton Street, and there’s a shortage of super cheap apartments in Whiskey Bayou, though my mother has offered my old room to me more than once. It makes me sick to do it, but I’m going to have to sell the Z once it’s fixed and discontinue my underwear of the month club membership to make ends meet.