But just as she was on the verge of passing out, the room was suddenly ablaze with light, and the sound of loud voices filled the air. The vicious and deadly pull on her throat dropped away, and she fell forward. And as she glanced behind her, gratefully sucking air into her lungs again, she saw that a masked figure was fighting a losing struggle with that big and burly cop who had arrested her.
More cops stormed into the room, clamoring loudly, and dragged the masked killer away from her and down to the ground, securing their hands behind their back. The mask was yanked off, and much to her surprise, she found herself staring into the face of… her employer!
She almost didn’t recognize Michele, the woman’s features contorted in anger as they were, but it was definitely her. But why? Why was she trying to kill her?
She would have asked the question, but her throat was still painful and sore. But then that other woman who’d apprehended her that afternoon joined her on the couch, and was speaking words of comfort, and said that a doctor was coming, and was muttering apologies and saying they should have gotten there sooner.
“But why?” she finally managed to croak hoarsely. “Why me?”
And that, it seemed, was quite a long story.
CHAPTER 42
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We were all gathered in Marge and Tex’s backyard, though the atmosphere was a little strained, I found. Harriet, for one, wasn’t her usual ebullient self, and had hardly said a word all afternoon. And Gran was also acting a little strange, with her frequent outbursts inquiring about the whereabouts of little Grace! It spooked her daughter and granddaughter, who were wondering if the old lady’s faculties were waning.
Brutus, meanwhile, was lying next to Dooley and me on the porch swing, looking like something the cat dragged in. What particular cat had done the dragging, I couldn’t say, but he was even refusing food, which was a first.
And so with a morose Brutus on our left, and a subdued Harriet on our right, I was feeling the strain. And since nobody was asking me about the case, it was up to Odelia to tell the others about the stunning events that had taken place the night before. Charlene was there, of course, seated next to Uncle Alec, and providing a captive audience. And so was Scarlett Canyon, Gran’s friend, who sat listening with gleaming eyes.
Tex and Marge had finally returned from their tennis week, and looked happy to be home again, and to be able to sleep in their own bed. The fact that they’d spent almost a week in the company of a murderer probably added to their relief.
“I don’t get it,” said Charlene. “Why did Michele kill her sister-in-law? Was it because Gavin had killed Michele’s husband seven years ago? Out of revenge?”
“Well, that’s exactly it,” said Odelia. “It wasn’t Dean who was killed by Gavin. It was the other way around. Dean killed Gavin, and then fled the country.”
“I don’t understand,” said Marge. “Michele’s husband killed Isobel’s husband?”
“Exactly. And it was as Michele had said: the two brothers had been quarreling, mainly about the state of the company, which was on the verge of being snapped up in a hostile takeover, and was in bad financial shape. Gavin blamed Dean, and Dean blamed Gavin. But the truth of the matter is that the economy wasn’t doing them any favors, and Bill stepping back had spooked some of the investors, and also some of their major clients, who’d canceled contracts.”
“Always a tricky moment, when a company passes from one generation to the next,” Uncle Alec said as he eyed the salad on his plate and didn’t seem to like what he saw. Charlene had put him on a diet again, and he wasn’t happy about it.
“Yeah, so the two brothers got into an argument that night, and things got violent, with some pushing and shoving. And that’s when Gavin fell and hit the edge of Dean’s desk, and died.”
“Involuntary manslaughter,” the Chief grumbled unhappily as he put a piece of lettuce into his mouth and grimaced.
“The problem was that Gavin’s death would have meant the end of the Droba Group for sure,” Odelia continued her tale. “Dean would have gone to jail, and the group would have collapsed, and become a sitting duck for this corporate raider. So that’s when Dean came up with the idea of the switch. He was the one with the very lavish life insurance contract to his name. So what if he was the one who was killed? That way Michele could collect the money, invest it in the group, and refinance the company so they could ward off that hostile takeover business.”
“And so that’s what they did,” said Chase, munching on a nice chicken wing, unfazed by Uncle Alec’s envious stares. “Dean was declared dead, and ‘Gavin’ fled the country, and since both Michele and Isobel had been present at the scene, they were the only ones, apart from Dean, who knew what had really happened. Michele identified the dead man as her husband Dean, and Isobel testified that her husband Gavin had accidentally killed his brother, and had escaped justice.”