Killer Confession by Kelly Rey

Author:Kelly Rey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romantic suspense, comedy, humor, humorous mystery
Publisher: Gemma Halliday Publishing

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Maizy asked as we crossed the street to her Civic and climbed inside.

I buckled up. "Are you thinking that Brian Easterbrook could be the killer?"

"No, I'm thinking that we need to crisscross the grid before we go home. You know, to shake that creepy Tara doll off our tail."

"I don't think Tara can drive," I said.

"Be serious. You don't even need opposable thumbs to drive. I've driven with my knees. And my feet."

I was pretty sure she was exaggerating. Not even a contortionist could manage that in such a small car.

"And did you get a good look at those eyes?" Maizy shuddered.

The hair on my arms was standing up again, mostly in reaction to Maizy. It just wasn't normal, her showing fear of anything. On the other hand, she might just be amusing herself again, the way she had with the hideous blazers and bifocals.

Still, I couldn't help myself. "I know, right? Those eyes were dead."

She started the engine. "We need to cleanse our chi after the cosmic sliming we got back there. Grunt can help."

"That's pretty harsh." I grabbed onto the door handle when she careened around the corner on two wheels. "Edna was a nice old lady who did not put rat poison in her cookies."

"I'm talking about Tara." She gunned it for a two block straight-away before screeching to a stop at a sign. An old Cadillac toddled through the intersection in front of us at the pace of a fully loaded freight train, piloted by a pile of gray hair with knuckles. When it had passed, Maizy gunned it again. "Although," she added, "Edna was very good."

I unpeeled myself from the headrest. "What are you talking about? She's sweet."

"Is she?" Maizy asked. "Or is her forgetfulness just an act to hide a mind like Stephen Hawking's?"

I shook my head. "I don't see that at all. What, you think she killed Vicious Vic?"

"Of course not," Maizy said. "She's much too old."

I crossed my arms and sat back, satisfied.

"I think Tara might have helped her." She checked the road behind us in the mirror.

"You're giving me the willies," I told her. "Since when are you afraid of dolls?"

She snorted. "Who isn't afraid of dolls? And clowns?"

"And spiders," I murmured. But maybe that one was just me.

"Besides, I'm not afraid of them," she said. "I just chose from an early age to disassociate myself from the conventional mores affiliated with people assigned female at birth."

"What does that mean, exactly?"

"I can't make it any clearer than that," she said. "Hey, know what we should do next?"

"Go take some aspirin and lie down?"

"You should see a doctor for that narcolepsy," she said. "No, it's time to talk to SPP."

I glared at her. "Where?"

"Where else? At Glow." She frowned at me. "What's the matter? Do you have other plans? 'Cause I know you don't plan to clean your apartment."

Funny. Also accurate. "What if Gillian's there?"

"So what if she is?" she countered. "We'll just wait her out.

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