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Oh boy. Just when I thought I might be getting somewhere. Betty Jean’s big mouth is going to get us killed.

“You’re right,” says Anita. “I don’t have anything to lose. You, on the other hand,” she mimics Betty Jean’s words, “are about to lose that wrinkled-up neck of yours.”

The sound of a car pulling into the back lot startles Anita. “What’s that?”

“It’s the police,” I say, hoping I’m telling the truth. “Right before I smashed my phone, I dialed 911.”

“That’s a lie.” But the panicked look in her eye says that she might believe it.

“Do you want to take that chance? Put the knife down, Anita.”

“No!” With the knife still at Betty Jean’s throat, she forces her to walk forward. “You’re going to open that door, and if the cops are really there, then you’re going to tell them that I need a car with a full tank of gas. I’m taking this old bat as a hostage. And if you’re bluffing, you’ll be sorry.”

Paco looks up at me as if to say, I got this.

For all our sakes, I hope he’s right. But he’s never let me down before. My Spidey sense tells me to trust him completely.

“You want me to open the door?”

“Are you hard of hearing? Yes. Open the door.” She inches closer, still holding the paring knife at Betty Jean’s throat, but now instead of being on the other side of the room, she’s just a few feet away from us.

“Okay, here goes.” At the same time I open the door, I look at my dog. He looks back at me. It’s amazing how in tune we’ve become in the short time we’ve been together.

Anita shuffles Betty Jean forward. She’s just about to reach the open door when Paco lunges and wraps his teeth around Anita’s ankle causing her to drop the knife. At the same time, Betty Jean elbows Anita in the stomach. “Take that!” she cries.

I grab the knife off the floor.

Travis rushes through the door and quickly takes everything in. “What’s going on?”

“Get this mutt off me!” screams Anita. Paco hangs on like he’s never letting go. Good boy.

“Anita killed Jefferson Pike,” I tell him. “She was about to kill Betty Jean with my paring knife. Archie Clements only confessed to save her. He’s innocent. Of murder, anyway.” But what I really want to say is, I told you so.

Now that the humans have a handle on the situation, Paco lets go of Anita’s ankle and Travis cuffs her. Paco jumps into my arms and we hug. “Who’s the best dog in the whole wide world?” I croon, scratching him behind the ears.

He barks as if to say, Me!

Betty Jean lets out a long breath. “Whew. For one hot minute, I thought I was a goner. Thank God you came,” she says to Travis.

“I got a weird text from Lucy.” He looks at me. “I tried to call but it went straight to voice mail.”

“And you knew to come over?”

He shrugs. “Knowing you, it seemed the prudent thing to do.”

Anita starts crying big fat crocodile tears. “This is a terrible misunderstanding. Please, Officer, I can explain.” Oh, she’s good. I can see why Cindy was fooled by her.

“You can tell us your version down at the police station,” says Travis. I follow him out to the parking lot. He puts a still crying Anita in the squad car and promises to call me with an update.

Back in the kitchen, Betty Jean is calmly eating one of my double chocolate chip muffins. “I couldn’t find whiskey,” she says, “so chocolate will have to do.”

I know exactly how she feels.

“Are you okay?” I ask her. “How’s your neck?”

“I’m fine. But I think I’ll spend tonight in my own house, thank you very much. Being your roommate could be hazardous to my health.”

The next night is Sunday, which means dinner at the McGuffin household. The usual suspects are all here and accounted for. My brother passes the mashed potatoes while I give a recap of everything that went down.


Tags: Maria Geraci Lucy McGuffin, Psychic Amateur Detective Mystery