Double crap. I was on the ground, outside the gate—right between the penned-up cattle and greener pastures.
I strained against the ropes, even while knowing they’d just pull tighter if I struggled. They did. I lay still again.
“Why?’’ The word came out in a hoarse whisper. I wasn’t even sure she heard me.
She sat down in the dirt, the whip curling across her lap. “Because you wouldn’t leave it alone, Mace. You would have kept wondering and asking questions. Sooner or later, the answers would have led you to me.’’
I remembered the flash of images that played in my mind right before she hit me. Savannah’s hat. The slant of sunlight. Her white SUV.
“So the murder … and everything else. That was you?’’
“And Paul. He did what I told him to, used the skills he had, to throw the production into chaos. Like sabotaging that light. We wanted it to blow up. It was a stroke of luck it happened right over your head.’’ She shook a finger in front of my face. “You should have quit right then; taken it as a sign.’’
She leaned down and looked me in the eye. “You know, like in the cartoons? How a light bulb always goes off over the character’s head?’’
She chuckled, like we were having a friendly chat. “Funny, right?’’
“Sorry, I don’t really get the joke,’’ I said. “I think lying, hogtied, in a pile of cow shit might be affecting my sense of humor.’’
I could hear the wind beginning to gust, rattling the fronds on the cabbage palms. The smell of approaching rain was stronger now. The cattle surged nervously around the enclosure. A horse nickered from the corral across the pasture. Was it Rebel, I wondered? Did he somehow sense I was in danger? Of course, even if he did, it wasn’t like Rebel could run and get help like the collie always used to do in those old episodes of Lassie.
The daylight was almost gone. An owl hooted—ominous, considering my circumstances. Didn’t an owl’s call always portend death in those old movie Westerns?
I wanted to keep Savannah talking. Maybe Jeb would finally come to take care of his cattle, or my sisters would show up. They’d arrive in the nick of time to save me, just like in the movies.
“I meant why to all of it, Savannah. Why murder Norman? Why stage all the other ‘accidents’ and near-misses?’’
“So is this that scene in a movie where the villain spills all her secrets?’’
“Indulge me,’’ I said. “It’s the least you can do since you so enjoyed getting to know me. I’m ‘good people.’ Isn’t that what you told me?’’
“Honey, I’m a murderer. Do you really think it bothers me that I’m a liar, too?’’
Suddenly, I thought about lies. Something Savannah said about Jacksonville ran through my brain. “You weren’t in your car on your way to Jacksonville the morning Norman was murdered, were you?’’
She lowered her face next to mine and grinned. Before, that grin had seemed friendly and full of fun. Now, it just looked cruel.
“No, duh, Mace. ‘There’s nothing for me in Jacksonville.’ As soon as that phrase was out of my mouth, I knew I’d made a mistake. I forgot I’d made Jacksonville my alibi, and then lied about growing up there. You didn’t catch my screw-up then.’’
“I didn’t,’’ I said.
“Yeah, some detective. Your sorry love life was too distracting. I knew you would catch it, though; and you did.’’
Too late, I thought.
She lifted the whip, waved it to the corners of the cow pen. “I had to think on my feet, come up with a plan. I saw the shovel. The ropes. The cattle. Everything fell into place, really fast.’’
Her face glowed with pride. Did she want me to compliment her on her clever plan to kill me?
I closed my eyes and thought about Carlos. An image of his face replaced Savannah’s, in front of me. Would I ever see him again? Would I see my family? Maybe the cattle wouldn’t kill me. But if those pounding hooves struck over and over at my head, my brain would be so scrambled I probably wouldn’t recognize those I loved. With that kind of head trauma, I may as well be dead.
I strained against the ropes. They seemed to pull tighter. Hair fell into my face, brushing my nose and making me want to sneeze. I wriggled my nose, but the hair didn’t move.
“Don’t struggle, honey. It’ll just make it worse. There is one little bone I can throw you. A parting gift, as it were.’’ She reached down, and almost tenderly pushed away the hair from my itchy nose. “That cop is crazy about you. I could see it in his eyes the other night at the bar. While you were moping over your beer, he was watching you, even when he was dancing with Kelly. Whenever you weren’t looking at him, he was looking at you.’’
I wouldn’t think my heart, already racing with adrenaline, could feel a flutter, but it did. If I ever got out of this, I was going to throw myself into Carlos’s arms and never leave.
“Thanks for that,’’ I said. “I wish I hadn’t been such a fool.’’
She sighed. “You said it at the bar. Love makes us do strange things.’’
“Is that why you killed Norman?’’ I asked. “To avenge Jesse?’’
“What?’’ She leaned close to my face; scrunched up her forehead. “Hell, no. What Norman did to Jesse had nothing to do with it. This film was Paul’s absolute last chance to save his reputation as a director. Norman was going to fire him. I couldn’t let him do that. What would I do without Paul’s income?’’
Get a job? I thought it, but I didn’t say it.
“I was poor once, Mace. I don’t intend to ever be poor again.’’
Savannah glanced at her wedding ring, the big diamond winking in the diminishing daylight. She seemed lost in thought. Almost to herself, she said, “All the other stuff was to cause confusion on the set, to divert attention from Paul and me.’’
“What did you mean when you said Paul did what you told him to do?’’
“My husband was definitely on board for Norman, but he was reluctant about the rest of it. He didn’t want anyone else murdered. Well, maybe except for Greg Tilton.’’
“Yeah, that poisoned sandwich could have killed him.’’
She laughed. “That’s funny, because we had nothing to do with that sandwich. Toby? Yes, that was me; and Paul skinned that cable for Jesse’s close call, too. Johnny Jaybird was in the wrong place at the wrong time, though.’’
“What do you mean?’’
“When Paul planted the loaded gun, we thought Toby would use it to rehearse with Greg, not the A.D. Johnny’s talent was useful to us; Greg, we didn’t need.’’
Thunder clapped, loud enough to split the sky in half. Savannah looked up to roiling black clouds. She stood, dusting her hands against her knees. “I’m sorry it’s come to this, Mace. It’s time for the climactic scene. It’s always been the same, way back to the days of silent film. Ever hear of The Perils of Pauline? That poor gal got into some crazy jams. There she’d be, tied to a train track just as a locomotive was bearing down.’’
Sensing the storm, the cows jostled and shifted together at the pen’s far side. Whip in hand, Savannah gestured toward the animals.
“Right there is your locomotive, Mace.’’
I knew it wasn’t possible, but the eyes of the cattle seemed to gleam with menace.
I watched Savannah’s boots as she strode away, continuing across the pasture in the direction of the horse corral. What was she up to now?
I did remember seeing those ancient film clips from The Perils of Pauline. Someone always rescued the silent movie heroine at the last possible moment. Unfortunately, my horizon looked pretty scarce on the cavalry.
I started flexing and contracting the muscles in my wrists, trying to work on loosening the ropes. The pressure eased a bit, but there was no way I’d get the knots untied by the time Savannah returned to carry out the rest of her plan.