Poisoned Pie (Pineville Gazette Mystery Book 6) Page 13

  But in America, life had to go on. People had to work, eat, sleep, and function. Still, it amazed Mary how so few people seemed blind to the pain and the tears that were being shed in Europe alone. However, Mary thought, being trapped in an attic with three people who would easily kill her wasn’t exactly the right time to think on such thoughts. Mary needed a plan. The tables had turned and now she was down on the mat listening to the referee counting to ten.

  “Betty,” she whispered, reading Loretta’s eyes, “we have to escape. If Loretta gets the chance she’ll kill us.”

  “How do we escape?” Betty asked in a scared whisper.

  Mary studied the attic door. Closed. She looked at the attic window. Closed. “I’m not sure,” she whispered back in a desperate voice.

  Mr. MacNight heard Mary and Betty whispering. He turned and faced them. “Preparing an escape plan?” he asked with a sneer.

  Mary spotted the wooden cane Loretta had tried to whack her with before looking at Mr. MacNight. “Mr. MacNight, I understand that your intentions were noble. As a matter of fact, I applaud you.”

  “You do?” Betty asked in a shocked voice. Mary elbowed Betty in the arm. “Oh…you do. Sure…we both applaud you, Mr. MacNight,” Betty exclaimed.

  “What I’m trying to say, Mr. MacNight, is that Betty and I aren’t your enemy. You don’t need to kill us. If you want to kill Mr. Presley…fine. He has threatened my life and I have no need for his kind.” Mary tossed her eyes toward the wooden cane again. It was leaning against a stack of boxes no more than six feet from her. Mr. MacNight was standing about eight feet away. Mary did some quick math and sighed. There was no way to reach the cane and hit Mr. MacNight with it without being shot first. She needed to get closer to the cane while drawing Mr. MacNight into striking distance.

  “Listen, Mr. MacNight,” she said and tried on a tough girl costume worn by city women who walked dangerous streets, “I’m a reporter and all I want is a story. I don’t care about that guy.” Mary pointed at Brent. “I have a paper to run, get it? Now we can stand around this boring attic and chew the gum all day or you can give me a story.”

  “Mrs. Holland, I’m afraid you’re sorely mistaken,” Mr. MacNight replied and slowly eased away from his temper. “You have heard and seen too much. You are a risk to me. Why would I dare allow you to live and write up a story on me? Why, that would be suicide.”

  Mary made a pouty face, turned her back and began to cry. “You’re not being fair,” she whimpered and then took a few steps toward the wooden cane, hoping Mr. MacNight would follow. To her relief Mr. MacNight did follow. “You’re not being fair at all…I wanted a story…”

  Mr. MacNight stepped close to Mary and then stopped. He tossed his eyes at Betty. Betty, realizing what Mary was planning to do, decided to jump into the ring. She rolled her eyes into the back of head and simply fainted. Confused, Mr. MacNight watched Betty hit the attic floor. Mary, seizing the moment, grabbed the wooden cane with both of her hands and with a mighty cry, swung around and attempted to strike Mr. MacNight’s gun hand. To her dismay Mr. MacNight caught the cane with his left hand, yanked it free, and pushed Mary back against the pile of boxes. Mary struck the boxes, lost her balance, and toppled down.

  “Very clever,” he snapped and kicked Betty’s foot. “Get up!”

  Betty eased her right eye open, peered up into a vicious face, and formed a strained smile. “Hello,” she whimpered and then scampered to her feet. Mr. MacNight pushed her toward Mary. “Hey…watch it!”

  “Be quiet,” Mr. MacNight warned Betty. He marched over to Loretta and began to untie her. “Kill them,” he ordered. “Once you do we will bury their bodies in the cellar. Tomorrow you will rob the banks and then I will send you away to Brazil where your mother is waiting.”

  “Yes, Daddy,” Loretta replied in a miserable voice. She looked at Mary and Betty and then waited to be set free. Once the ropes were destroyed, Loretta stood up, rubbed her wrists, and then, to Mr. MacNight’s shock, she bolted toward the attic door. Surely, Loretta thought, her own father wouldn’t shoot her in the back.

  “Loretta…stop!” Mr. MacNight yelled. He raised his gun and fired into the ceiling. Loretta, scared out of her mind, didn’t stop running. She yanked the attic door open and bolted down the stairs.

  “Loretta!” Mr. MacNight screamed out in rage. “Get back here at once!” Loretta kept running. Once she reached the second-floor hallway she dashed toward the stairs like a woman being chased by a tiger. Mr. MacNight ran to the attic door and looked down the stairs. “Loretta!” he screamed again. “You can’t run from me, Loretta! Now come back and do as I tell you!”

  Mary studied Mr. MacNight’s back, and then, without wasting a second, charged forward. She ran at Mr. MacNight like a furious bull charging a person who had dared to enter his private field. Mr. MacNight heard Mary running across the attic floor. He tried to spin around but felt Mary’s hands shove him forward before his body could react.

  “No!” he yelled as gravity took effect and tore his body down the attic stairs, one painful tumble at a time. Mary watched the man land on his neck and then heard an ugly cracking sound. Then…there was silence. Mr. MacNight was lying at the bottom of the attic stairs like a twisted pretzel.

  Mary wiped her forehead and took a deep breath, and then quickly snatched Brent’s gun up off the attic floor.

  Betty ran to the attic door, looked down at Mr. MacNight, and then covered her eyes. “Oh dear…oh my…is he…”

  “I think Mr. MacNight is dead,” Mary confirmed.

  Brent, still unable to set himself free, threw his eyes at Mary. “Please let me go. You have my word that I will leave and never return to Pineville.”

  Mary walked over to Brent on shaky legs. “You know where Loretta is going to run to, don’t you?” she asked.

  Brent shook head. “No,” he lied.

  “Yes, you do,” Mary objected. “Mr. Presley, you’re going to prison one way or the other, so do yourself a favor and help me.”

  Brent felt anger rise up in his face. “Mrs. Holland, you’re making a very terrible mistake.”

  “Mr. Presley,” Mary replied in a bold voice, “I don’t think I am.” Mary pulled up a chair and sat down. “Kent Connors’s bank robbing partner…I think I’m looking straight into his face, aren’t I?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Sure you do.” Mary nodded. “You and Mr. Connors went on a bank robbing spree out west. You used your position as a federal bank inspector to help Kent rob the banks. Then what happened? The heat got to be too much? So you picked up and drove east until the heat died down. You ended up in little bitty Pineville. But why did you stop in Pineville?”

  “You’re—”

  “You know Mr. MacNight, don’t you, Mr. Presley?” Mary said, finally putting the pieces of the puzzle together. “You went through some files and found out that Mr. MacNight was being put under a bright light. So you packed up and headed east with Kent Connors to rob a few more banks. Your job was to infiltrate the bank and Kent Connors’s job was to wait. Sure, that’s it. Just sit and wait until you have him a nod.”

  “Mrs. Holland, I would advise you to capture your mouth and—” Brent tried to speak, amazed that Mary was putting the puzzle together.

  “There’s a lot of cash in Mr. MacNight’s banks, Mr. Presley,” Mary continued. “I believe Kent Connors saw a gold mine and figured he take all the money for himself and leave the country. Only, Loretta didn’t know about you, did she? She really thought you were an honest man…at first. She told you all about Kent Connors’s plan. You didn’t expect Kent Connors to start being sweet on the boss’s daughter, did you?” Mary watched Brent’s expression turn from anger to desperation. “Kent Connors formed a plan of his own, didn’t he? So did Mr. MacNight. And you, Mr. Presley, got caught in the middle. So what did you do? You chose to make friends with Loretta…use her to kill Kent Connors…rob the banks…and then kill Mr. MacNight�
��and in return for all of her hard work…well, you intended to kill her.”

  “Golly, Mary, you sure have this one figured out,” Betty stated, impressed. She looked at Brent and shook her head. “Shame on you for being so bad,” she scolded him. “People earn the money they put in the bank. You have no right to steal it. Get a job and work like a real man should.”

  Mary patted Betty’s shoulder. “Down, tiger.”

  Brent glared at Mary. “This isn’t over.”

  “Not until I find Loretta and figure out what the pie eating contest had to do with all of this. That’s the one thing my mind can’t comprehend just yet.”

  Outside in the snow, Loretta MacNight ran into the dark night and began making her way toward the fairgrounds.

  9

  Mary handed Betty the gun. “I’m going downstairs and call—” She stopped when footsteps began to creep up the attic stairs. Betty shoved the gun back at Mary and hunkered down behind her. Mary quickly aimed the gun toward the attic door and waited. Was Loretta returning?

  “Mary?” Mrs. Owlton called out in a worried voice. “Mary Holland, it’s Mrs. Owlton.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Owlton!” Mary cried out. She ran to the attic door and helped Mrs. Owlton into the attic.

  “I’m afraid Mr. MacNight is dead,” Mrs. Owlton informed Mary in a sorrowful voice. “Poor dear.” Mrs. Owlton lifted up Mr. MacNight’s gun. “I’m sure he won’t be needing this ugly thing.”

  Mary sighed. “I’m afraid not,” she told Mrs. Owlton.

  Mrs. Owlton handed the gun to Betty. “Sheriff Mables is on his way,” she explained. “I saw Mr. MacNight arrive and sneak through the front door. It wasn’t soon after that poor Betty arrived. I saw that man snatch her into this house. That’s when I knew it was time to call the sheriff. The only problem is, dear, the poor man slipped on some ice about two hours ago and busted his ankle. He’ll be a while, I’m afraid.”

  Mary patted Mrs. Owlton’s hand. “Mrs. Owlton, did you see Loretta run out of the house?” she pleaded.

  “I sure did,” Mrs. Owlton stated, nodding her head up and down. “I saw Loretta run out the front door and then hightail it down the street…going east.”

  “East?” Mary whispered. “The fairgrounds are east of here.” Mary walked over to Brent. “Why did you enter the pie eating contest?” she demanded.

  Brent grinned. “You seem to be smart, so figure it out.”

  Mary felt like slapping Brent across his smug face. She was cold, hungry, and upset. John was due to arrive the following day and Mary wasn’t even sure if her husband had tried to call while she had been busy going here and there, struggling to solve a murder case. “You were at the pie eating contest for a reason,” she snapped at Brent.

  “Yes, I was,” Brent agreed. “But why? Now, isn’t that the question?”

  “Oh, just shoot him,” Betty begged.

  “Yes, I’m with Betty,” Mrs. Owlton agreed. She went for the gun Mary was holding but Mary quickly pulled it away.

  Betty blushed. “I didn’t really mean it, Mrs. Owlton.”

  “Oh pooh, you young people are so wishy-washy. Back when I was a young lady a person would have shot this scoundrel without blinking an eye.”

  Mary remained focused on Brent for a few moments. Then she walked over to attic window, looked out into the dark night, and struggled to find a missing puzzle piece. “Why?” she whispered, feeling desperate for an answer…a clue…anything. And then, as if lightning struck her mind, the answer arrived. “Of course…” Mary ran back to Brent. “You’re not working alone, are you? You had someone at the bank, didn’t you?”

  Brent frowned. Mary was far too smart. “Mrs. Holland—”

  “You needed to be seen in a public place…but why? What was the person at the bank doing? Who was it?” Mary looked at Mrs. Owlton. “That’s it…Mr. Prats…Mr. Ned Prats.” Mary rubbed her chin. “You knew Mr. MacNight would be watching you, Mr. Presley. Not only you, but Loretta and Kent Connors. You drew Mr. MacNight away from the bank while Mr. Prats sneaked in and did what? Loretta has the missing numbers to the combination codes and the rest of the numbers are in a…” Mary stopped. “What was Ned Prats sent to the bank to do? Certainly not rob it…then what?”

  “I sent Ned to the bank to the bank to deliver a message,” Brent growled. “Ned was supposed to walk into the main branch office and pretend he was there to have a meeting with Mr. Pelton, the vice president, because no one is aware that Mr. MacNight is back in town. Mr. MacNight only visits the bank at night after everyone has left for the day.”

  “Mr. Pelton was at the fairgrounds with his family. I saw them all together.”

  “Exactly,” Brent hissed. “Everyone was at the fairgrounds. Sheila and Mandy were minding the bank. Ned was ordered to enter the bank, pretend he was there to have a meeting with Mr. Pelton. Of course, Shelia or Mandy would have told him that Mr. Pelton was absent from the bank. With that news Ned was to ask if he could leave a note explaining why he had to cancel the meeting. Why not? Everyone knows Ned Prats is the worrying type.” Brent shook his head. “Anyway, the note Ned was supposed to leave was directed at Mr. MacNight.”

  “What was the note supposed to say?”

  “Ned had a pie with him…the pie Loretta bought at Mrs. Walton’s bakery. Ned was supposed to leave a note with a pie that read ‘Kent Connors ate his last slice. You’re next.’ I wanted to shake Mr. MacNight up. Ned failed me. He never even went to the bank. He betrayed me and told my plan to Mr. MacNight. That was one of the reasons Mr. MacNight showed up at the pie eating contest. He had ordered Loretta to poison a pie and kill me. She told me this, of course, and that’s why I had her go through all of the trouble of switching the pies and the names on the tape. I had to prove to Mr. MacNight that I was in control. Loretta…she had her own agenda, but for the time being her heart was so furious at Kent Connors all she could think about was killing the man, which was perfect.”

  “Kent Connors returned back from Brazil very angry,” Mary pointed out.

  Brent nodded his head. “He broke Loretta’s heart, threatened to kill her if she didn’t do what he said. Loretta still pined for him, which allowed Kent to control her. Kent would have never dreamed that Loretta was planning his death.”

  Mary rubbed the bridge of her nose. Why were murder cases so complicated? Why couldn’t, just once, the killer be a simple person who killed someone with a simple motive and was caught without any complication or fuss? And to add to her misery now there was Ned Prats to worry about. How had Ned Prats and Brent Presley even become part of the same team? Mary didn’t know. “Mr. Presley, I think I understand why you joined the pie eating contest. You wanted to upset Mr. MacNight by showing him you had a hidden man in your corner, someone who had access to his bank.”

  “Yes.” Brent nodded his head. “However, the hole gets even deeper. I needed Ned Prats out of the way and knew Mr. MacNight would be able to figure out who left the pie just by asking Sheila or Mandy a few questions. You see, Mrs. Holland, Ned Prats is a simple man who isn’t very clever. He is a good banker but lacks the ability to see past numbers.” Brent looked around the attic and then focused back on Mary. “Ned Prats is also a very greedy man…which worked very well for me. However, I did not take into account his loyalty toward Mr. MacNight. After the pie eating contest…after Kent was dead…Mr. MacNight caught me at the fairgrounds and promised my death unless I left town.”

  “You chose not to leave Pineville.”

  “Not without my money,” Brent informed Mary. “Loretta…betrayed me. She panicked after Kent Connors died…panicked after she saw me speaking with her father. She raced away from the fairgrounds and later had a meeting with Mr. MacNight and told him our plans.”

  Mary shook her head. “Poor Loretta was caught up in a storm and kept jumping from one ship to another.” She sighed. “I feel sorry for her. It seems to me all the poor woman wanted was to be loved by someone.”

  “What are you going to do, M
ary?” Betty asked.

  Mary looked at Brent. “Where did Loretta go?” she demanded.

  “Loretta isn’t a foolish woman,” Brent snapped at Mary. “I watched her hide a briefcase full of money at the fairgrounds today, on the far north side that connects to the river. My guess is that’s where the woman is running to.” Brent gritted his teeth. “Catch her because I’m not the only one going to prison.”

  “The snow is too deep to drive in, dear,” Mrs. Owlton pointed out. “You’ll have to go on foot.”

  “Oh dear,” Betty worried. “Mary…honey, do you really believe a word this worm is saying?”

  “In time I’ll digest this night and see what was true and what wasn’t,” Mary assured Betty. “In the meantime I better get on the road. Mrs. Owlton, will you please remain with Betty until Sheriff Mables arrives?”

  “Of course,” Mrs. Owlton promised. She walked over to Mary and patted her hand. “You’re going to be just fine, dear.”

  “I guess in time some of this story might make sense,” Mary told Mrs. Owlton in a tired voice. “All I do know for certain is that Loretta MacNight acted out of a desire to be loved and then turned around and killed because her heart was broken. The rest,” she said, pointing at Brent and then toward the attic door, “of the people attached to this case had their own agendas; unfortunately, it was Loretta who complicated matters. If Loretta had simply stayed away from Kent Connors…wouldn’t have betrayed her daddy…and wouldn’t have turned to Mr. Presley and blackmailed him into finding out what Kent Connors was up to…” Mary looked at Brent. “Yes, I know Mr. MacNight paid you.” Brent didn’t reply. Mary turned away from Brent and quickly hugged Betty. “I’ll return with Loretta. I promise.”

  “Oh, be careful,” Betty begged.

  “I will,” Mary promised. With those words she hurried out of the attic, stepped around Mr. MacNight’s body, ran downstairs, and hurried to gather her coat. She was greeted by a woman with cold blue eyes. “Mrs. MacNight…I thought you were in Brazil,” Mary said in a shocked voice.