Death on a Deadline

to go into an innocent woman’s house and have it surrounded by police within minutes? Did I really want to face that kind of humiliation?
    I hit the End button on my phone and climbed out of the car, praying as I walked up to the house. Carly’s old van was parked in the driveway. And the front door was open. I could hear voices through the screen door. Suddenly Lois stepped onto the porch. “Jenna, come in, come in. I’m so glad to see you.” She looked so innocent in her polyester slacks and oversized cardigan. Like everybody’s grandma. But something in her eyes wasn’t right.
    I froze and weighed my choices. Run as fast as I could in the opposite direction or go in and join Carly in the black widow’s web. Not very good options. But I wasn’t about to desert my sister. “Hi, I just thought I’d drop by.” I forced a smile that must have looked more like a grimace.
    “Actually I was about to call you. Carly’s bored with me, I’m afraid.”
    When I entered the house, it took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust from the bright sunlight to the dim interior. But there was Carly at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee in front of her. She had her elbow on the tiled surface and her hand under her chin. “Hi, Shenna. Jenna,” she mumbled. “Good to shee you.” Her eyelids drooped.
    I glanced at Lois who was smiling. “Let me pour you a cup of coffee, dear.”
    “No thanks. I just came to get Carly. Emergency at home.” I walked over to my sister and nudged her. Her elbow fell out from under her chin and she barely got it back under her before her face splatted against the table. I wanted to scream.
    “I’m sorry to hear there’s an emergency.” Lois didn’t move to stop me, just stood there smiling with her hands in her cardigan pockets.
    “Emerg–emergensheee?” Carly slurred the word and shook her head.
    “Yeah, Car, we have to get home.” I grabbed her arm and tried to pull her up. “Now.”
    “You have to drink some coffee with me before you go, Jenna.”
    “No, thank you,” I said firmly.
    Then she raised her hand from her pocket and I found myself staring down the barrel of a lethal-looking pistol. “I insist.” She motioned to the chair next to Carly. “Have a seat.”
    I sat down at the table. “Is this what you did to Hank? Held a gun on him and made him drink coffee?”
    She laughed. “You’ve been reading too many mysteries if you think you can keep me talking long enough to escape. I’m a librarian, remember?” She plunked a dainty white and blue coffee cup in front of me, then leaned in close to me. “I’ve read them all. There’s no way out for you, Jenna. You’ve asked one too many questions. Even the chief of police thinks you’re crazy.”
    She picked up the pot from the counter and poured my coffee, then kept her eye on me as she brazenly poured some white powder into it. “Drink.”
    “What’s in it?”
    “What difference does it make?”
    “I’d rather know what kind of death I’m facing.”
    “I’m not into rat poison. Just something to make you relax.”
    Carly’s arm gave way and the weight of her head plopped onto the tabletop. I reached for her, but Lois motioned toward the coffee with the gun. “Drink or die now.”
    I leaned toward Carly anyway and was quiet until I could hear her light snoring. Sitting up straight, I looked at Lois. “I’ll drink if you’ll tell me why you did it. Surely I deserve to know that much.”
    She narrowed her eyes as if to gauge my sincerity, then nodded. “Take a drink.”
    I took a swig from the coffee cup and watched with a little satisfaction as her eyes widened. She’d been expecting ladylike sips, no doubt. “So talk.”
    She sat down across from me, gun above the table, trained on me. “Men are a problem, dear. In a way, I’m doing you a favor by keeping you from having to deal with them anymore.”
    “You’ll forgive me if I don’t thank you,” I murmured, fury warring with pure fear inside my chest.
    She laughed. “I learned early enough that when you have a problem with men, you have to get rid of them. It worked with my dad and then with my husband. Marge is the only one who ever understood me.”
    The woman was stark raving mad. And the fact that John would feel terribly guilty at my and Carly’s double funeral gave me no comfort at all. I looked around the room for a sharp object, even a blunt object. If I could distract her for a second. . .
    “Take another drink.” She was