"Hedda Geist may have been a blonde beauty in her day," I added, "but the truth of her life is bitterly ugly, and if the details hit today's news cycles, it would ruin any standing she'd worked to gain for herself and her children. You're the only one left, Maggie. Don't you see that? Once you're gone, there's no one left to threaten Hedda Geist anymore."
Maggie's eyes glazed over; she seemed to be processing my flood of words. I couldn't blame her. It was a lot to take in.
"Okay," she finally said, "but even if everything you say is true, I think I should make an appearance at the dinner. Hedda can't murder me in plain sight, Penelope. Can she?"
"I suppose you're right," I said. "If we act naturally, we may be able to trap Hedda."
"I'm glad you told me all this," Maggie said as she reached for a huge tote bag in the backseat. She pulled it up front and set it down between us. Then she glanced up and appeared to see something out the window on my side of the car.
"Is that her now?" Maggie asked. "Is that Hedda over there on that path?"
I turned, giving Maggie my back so I could peer through my passenger-door window. I could see the dimly lit trail to the Charity Point Lighthouse. But I couldn't make out anyone on it.
Next to me, I heard Maggie open the zipper on the tote bag. Almost immediately, I smelled something familiar-orange blossoms? The cloying, familiar scent was so strong it quickly filled the car's interior.
I frowned, still squinting into the dark for any sign of Hedda. But my mind was quickly wondering-"What's Maggie Vreen Kline doing with Vouloir, the signature perfume worn by Hedda Geist-Middleton? The same scent I detected near Barry Yello's corpse?"
Look out, doll! Jack bellowed in my head.
I whirled around to see Maggie with a heavy metal flashlight in her hand. She'd pulled it out of her tote and was raising it to brain me!
Move, baby! Now!
Freezing cold air blew in my face. The shock of Jack's icy blast made me rear back away from Maggie at the last possible moment. I slammed against the car's passenger window, and the heavy swinging flashlight missed my head by inches, connecting hard with my thigh instead.
"Ahhh!"
Pain shot through my leg. Maggie quickly swung again, but this time I was ready. I put my left arm up to deflect the blow from my head, and she clipped my elbow this time. Stinging tears sprang to my eyes. But I was still conscious. And alive.
"Thanks, Jack."
Don't thank me yet, baby. Fight! Maggie raised her arm again, ready to strike. Grab her wrist, doll. Keep her from swinging. Then clock her yourself!
I lunged for her wrist, gripped it with my left hand, then swung at her jaw with my balled-up right fist, just like Jack advised. It was a clumsy attack. My hand missed Maggie, flailed backward, and bounced off the steering wheel. I yelled in pain-
Swing again, babe! Don't stop till she does!
I did. I swung again. This time I struck flesh-hard. Maggie grunted and her head snapped back. She slumped forward, her torso hanging over the steering wheel. I shook her, but her movements were like a rag doll's. The woman was out cold.
My thigh was bruised, my hand was throbbing, and my elbow was stinging something awful. I cradled my wounded joint until the agony faded to a dull but persistent ache.
In the struggle, Maggie's tote bag had spilled across the front seat. I saw an airline ticket among the debris. I picked it up and read the itinerary; then I glanced in the backseat and saw a small suitcase on the floor.
"Maggie never intended to go to the dinner tonight," I realized. "She booked a flight out of Providence, departing in two hours."
Back to Arizona? Jack asked.
"No. This ticket's for an international flight to Costa Rica!"
With Maggie's flashlight, I searched through the stuff that had spilled out of the tote. I spied a small glass vial. It looked medicinal but I couldn't read the prescription l abel-it was written in Spanish. And the vial was empty.
Did this contain the poison Maggie had used on Barry? I wondered. I was about to give up the search when I found a second, identical vial-also marked with a prescription label. It, too, was empty.
"Wait a second. If the first one contained the poison to kill Barry, then where did the poison in the second vial go?"
Looks to me like she used it, doll.
"Oh, god." I closed my eyes. Hedda had been a killer once, but she wasn't the killer now. "Maggie must be trying to poison
Hedda!"
You better warn her.
I jumped out of the car and raced across the lot. I entered the restaurant at a run and pushed past a crowd of people waiting to be seated. As I burst into the dining room, I saw a commotion at the center table.
I heard a woman's frantic call. "Grandmother's fainted!" I recognized the voice immediately. It belonged to Harmony Middleton.
"Hedda's collapsed, please give her room," Dr. Rubino commanded.
People backed away, but I pushed forward until I saw Hedda on the floor, her face white, a tiny bit of foam flecking her glossy red lips. I noticed a bottle of Napa Valley Sauvignon Blanc on the table.
"Where did this wine come from?" I demanded.
Harmony blinked. Then she stared at me as if I were crazy to ask such a question at a time like this. "It's Grandma's favorite," she replied. "It was delivered special to our table, sent by an anonymous secret admirer, according to the card."
"Did anyone drink from it?" I demanded.
"Just Grandma," Harmony said.
Rubino nodded. "I opened the wine and poured a glass for her. Hedda was enjoying it when she fainted."
"Don't drink that wine!" I warned. "It's poisoned!"
"Oh, my god, Mrs. McClure," Dr. Rubino said in horror. "If that's true, you just saved our lives."
"But what about Hedda?" I asked. "Is she going to be okay?"
Rubino frowned, shook his head. "The ambulance is on the way. We won't know until we get her to a hospital."
"You've got to save her, Doctor," Harmony cried out and began to sob into her hands.
I crouched down beside Dr. Rubino. He was cradling his patient's head in his arms. She looked old now and frail, a shadow of her former self.
Just then, the woman gasped and coughed. She opened her famous catlike eyes. Their vibrant emerald color was washed out now, the whites stained with tiny trails of blood.
I wasn't sure if she could hear me. But I thought, for a lot of reasons, that she should know the truth.
"Ms. Geist," I said, "you've been poisoned by the daughter of Irving Vreen."
Understanding darkened the femme fatale's face. Her lips moved but no sound came out. Then the former actress gasped once more, and her fading eyes closed for the last time.
MAGGIE WAS ARRESTED in the parking lot. I led Officer Eddie Franzetti to the woman while she was still unconscious. My elbow still hurt like a son of a gun, but I was happy Eddie would get the collar. Bull McCoy might be the chief's nephew, but even nepotism couldn't trump a cop who brought in a multiple murderer.
"So what do you think, Jack?" I quietly asked the ghost as Eddie radioed headquarters.
Well, I don't know. Things got a little hinky there for a minute, but I guess you did all right.
"Just all right?!"
Don't push it, partner. You jumped to the wrong conclusion about Maggie at the end there. And if I hadn't been watching your back, you might have ended up with a cracked skull. Next time, bring the copper with you.
"Hey! Wait a minute! I heard that! You actually called me partner."
Yeah, baby, I guess this time you earned it.
"You guess? Wouldn't you say having a woman around who can clock a murderer is a tad more valuable than one who'll fetch you packs of Luckies?"
Well, that depends on how long it's been since I had my last drag.
Twenty minutes later, the Finch Inn looked like the triage zone of a disaster area. Local cops, state police, ambulances, a forensic unit… I lost count in the glare of the flashing emergency lights.
"It's justice, what I did!" Maggie Vreen Kline yelled at the top of her lungs as she struggled against Eddie Franzetti's handcuffs.