Authors: Maggie Toussaint
“Mary fits my idea of someone who is insecure and might have been jealous. What about Ashley? What was she like as a child?”
“She was always over at our house. Hill and I hated her tagging along with us, so we played soldiers, cowboys, or pirates when she came over. She was okay, but she was a girl.”
“Ashley played with Regina and Brenna?”
“Reggie always had her nose in a book or was at the stables. Ashley was Hill’s age, but she hung out with Brenna.”
“So an older child played with a younger, more popular child.” I massaged the facts, feeling my way. “Ashley seems very appearance conscious now. She might have resented the attention Brenna received.”
“This sounds far-fetched.”
“You’re in denial, but you can’t afford that luxury. You’re the killer’s target now. Because you’re certain of your siblings’ innocence, I’m leaning toward Mary, Ashley, or Florie as key suspects in Brenna’s death. Since they’d killed once, they thought nothing of killing Starr, who was a threat to the family. If I’m right, one of those women is a killer. One of them poisoned you.”
Rafe shuddered.
I slipped into my thoughts again. It felt like we were on the edge of a breakthrough with the case. I believed Mary was guilty. I hoped my risky move would pay off.
My investigation had paid off in other ways. I had a better picture of Rafe’s past and of his family. I had a better overall picture of the man I loved. I admired the boy who’d forged his own way in the world.
“Why’d you take Britt Radcliff with you?” he asked. “Did you think you’d need police protection against my family?”
His cutting tone aggravated me. The truth boiled out. “Someone shot my car on purpose.”
He stared at me in shock. “What? Your car?”
“Eyes on the road, please. I didn’t tell you about it because I didn’t want to alarm you. Britt took care of the report and getting my car towed. The more I thought about it, the more I knew I needed to confront your family and force the issue. I couldn’t do that with you along.”
He grunted. “Tell me about the car.”
I gave him a detailed report of my stop at Overlook Park and the bullet hole in my car. “That incident told me I was on the right track with finding out who the real killer was. Britt pried my intentions out of me. He wouldn’t let me go down to Potomac alone.”
“I’m glad. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Me either.” More miles rolled past. “Is there anything else that comes to mind? Any other family secrets that might be relevant to the killer’s identity?”
He didn’t say anything.
Since I was striking out on finding Starr’s killer, I might as well try a different line of questioning. “What about sex?”
He shot me a smoldering look. “What about it?”
“A member of your family is Kylie’s father. I’m certain of that. As far as I can tell, that limits the potential donors to you, Hill, your dad, and Ashley’s dad. Who else in your family had sex with Starr?”
He grimaced. “Hill admitted sleeping with her.”
“And the others?”
“I don’t know.”
I could needle him about the morals of the men of his family, but it was bad enough accusing the women of murder. I decided to rest my case. We cruised over the rolling foothills of suburban Maryland, and I admired the brightly colored fall foliage.
“What evidence is at my place?” he asked. “What links the two killings?”
“Regina was right,” I said. “I was bluffing. I’m banking on the killer believing me.”
“That’s a long shot.”
“I wish I had more, but this killer knows how to cover his or her tracks. The killer doesn’t know if Starr might have implicated her in either a conversation, letter, or other communication. If I’m right, and I believe I am, the killer will break into your place tonight to destroy the evidence.”
“Where does Britt stand in all of this?”
“I laid my plan out to Britt before we drove to Potomac. Without solid evidence to the contrary, he’s unwilling to consider he was wrong. You’re still at the top of his suspect list. If someone breaks into your place and we catch him or her, he might reconsider his stance.”
“Risky.”
My teeth clamped together. Rafe didn’t know the half of it.
Rafe and I ate a veggie pizza with Mama and the girls at my place. With the wedding in two days, Mama and the girls couldn’t stop talking about their clothing and the artificial flowers. I smiled and nodded at appropriate intervals, but throughout the meal I felt Rafe studying me. The questions in his eyes worried me.
“You okay?” I asked at a lull in the conversation.
His gaze swept the others at the table. “Fine.”
I got the message. He didn’t want to talk about his concerns in front of my family, which was a good thing. If Mama knew we were staking out his condo tonight, she’d insist on coming along.
After dinner, I cornered Mama in the kitchen. “I hate to ask this again, but would you stay with the girls? Rafe and I need some time alone at his place.”
Mama grinned. “Sure thing. You take that new black nightie Jonette found for you. The man won’t know what hit him.”
“Good idea. I’ll toss a few essentials in my purse. Thanks.”
Once we arrived at the condo, Rafe checked to make sure no one had entered his place before we’d arrived. While he checked the closets and under the bed, I deposited my purse on his living room table and my insurance policy under the sofa.
The two of us hunkered down in his bedroom, sitting on the floor and leaning against the bed.
My thoughts were in turmoil. Would my gamble pay off? Would the killer take the bait? Would Rafe forgive me for unearthing his family secrets?
“I can’t believe you’re spending the night at my place, and we’re not ripping each other’s clothes off,” Rafe grumbled.
“I can’t believe you would even think about sex at a time like this. Someone’s trying to kill us.”
“Hey, I can multi-task.”
“Maybe you can, but I can’t. Not when my car was used for target practice. Not when you’ve been framed for murder.”
“I didn’t do it.”
“That defense will go over great in court.”
His teeth gleamed in the near darkness. “What’s our plan? If a killer breaks in here, how will we stop them?”
“Besides that baseball bat next to you?”
“Yeah. Besides that.”
“I thought about bringing one of my guns,” I began.
“No guns.” His deep voice boomed in my ear. “I don’t want any guns in this house.”
I couldn’t believe he didn’t see the gaping flaw in his logic. I matched his commanding tone and volume level. “What if the killer doesn’t know your rules? What if said killer brings a gun in here? Can you smack her with the bat before she shoots us?”
He whipped out his cell phone. The display illuminated the dark bedroom. “We need to get you out of here. I’ll call Britt to come take you home.”
Though I was flattered by his concern, I stayed his hand. “Leave Britt out of this. I’m not going anywhere. Neither are you.”
Rafe picked up the bat. “You think the killer will walk in the front door?”
“Not like there are any other entrances. I doubt she would come through a window. That would be too messy.”
He was silent for a while. His breathing sounded loud in the darkness. “You think it’s Florie?” he asked.
“Never said that, but Florie spent her life cleaning. She wouldn’t create a mess.”
“Neither would Ashley. She threw out lots of my stuff when I moved in here. Said I needed to wipe the slate clean with my fresh start. Said I was becoming a hoarder.”
“Were you?”
“Not by the world’s standards. I’d saved a bunch of junk from school. She was right. I didn’t need that old stuff. I haven’t missed it at all.”
“She shouldn’t have made you get rid of your mementos. That was mean.”
“She was doing her job.”
As the conversation trailed off, his words echoed in my ear. He’d mentioned Florie and Ashley, but not Mary. Was that intentional? I probed a bit. “Mary works all the time. Doesn’t Regina give her time off?”
“I can’t say. Every time we see Reggie, Mary is with her. That should mean Mary is off the hook for the crimes. She can’t murder anyone if she’s at my sister’s constant beck and call.”
Grudgingly, I admired his logic. However, I remained open to outside possibilities. Mary topped my list of suspects. You had to watch out for those quiet, repressed types. “There’s still a chance it’s Hill or Reggie.”
“No way.” Rafe placed the bat on the carpet and wrapped an arm around me. “When this is over, you and I need to have a long talk about boundaries.”
This was the most we’d talked about his family ever. I felt like we’d barely scratched the surface. I tipped my head back to look at his silhouette. “Why wait?”
“Because we have opposing views about boundaries, and I need to be at the top of my game to discuss this with you.”
“I don’t mind a boundary here or there, but I can’t abide secrets. I know you don’t want to be compared to my ex, and God knows I don’t want to be compared to your knockout ex-fiancée, but secrets regarding other people are dangerous. We wouldn’t be where we are with your case if I hadn’t pushed through your boundaries. You’d be facing the death penalty for murder otherwise. That outcome is unacceptable to me.”
“How would you feel if I pushed into your private life?”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know. All you have to do is ask.”
“Why did you marry Charlie Jones?”
His quick question stunned me for a moment. “Ouch. Went right for the jugular, didn’t you?”
“Doesn’t feel so good, does it?”
“It’s uncomfortable, but I don’t mind sharing the truth. I trust you with my darkest secret. Charlie and I were an item in high school. One thing led to another. We married because I was pregnant.”
“You had a shotgun marriage?”
“It wasn’t like that. Charlie’s mom was alive back then. She was delighted to have a grandchild on the way. My parents supported my decision to keep the baby and marry Charlie, but they pushed hard for me to continue my education. It wasn’t easy, but I did both.”
“This is a secret because?”
“Because I’d never want to hurt Charla’s feelings. Lexy came early, so the fact that I had Charla eight months after I was married isn’t significant to the girls. I’ll tell Charla the truth if she asks, but she needs to bring it up. I won’t volunteer information that might hurt her feelings.”
“I see.”
I drew in a deep, satisfied breath. It felt good sharing confidences. Heady with success, I took a turn at the truth wheel. “Why Tiffany?”
“Obvious physical reasons. But it turned out we weren’t compatible.”
“Got news for you. Few couples are one hundred percent compatible. Lots of speed bumps on the road to marital bliss.”
“Figured that one out for myself.”
Time passed as we sat there by the foot of the bed. I don’t know what Rafe was thinking, but I believed there was more to the Tiffany story than he was telling. It made me wonder what other secrets he had.
Being still, full of carbs, and warm, it wasn’t long before I dozed. A while later, I swam out of sleep as Rafe’s body tensed. “Shh!” he whispered. “Someone’s at the door.”
“Don’t confront her until she’s inside,” I whispered back, my pulse quickening. “We want to catch the killer red-handed.”
From our prime vantage point on the bedroom floor, we saw a flashlight beam enter the living room. I heard a faint snick as the door closed. I glanced over at the digital clock by the bed. Midnight. The witching hour.
Rafe and I had agreed—well, he’d insisted and I’d finally quit protesting—that he’d crawl on hands and knees in the living room before he turned on the lights, while I dialed 911 in the bedroom. I was keenly aware I was seven feet away from a locking bathroom door.
Recklessly, I edged closer to the bedroom door.
The living room lights flashed on, blinding me. I blinked furiously, wishing I was out there and Rafe was in here. That bat was no match for an armed intruder.
“What are you doing?” Rafe said.
“What I have to do,” a muffled female voice said. “Why couldn’t you shut up and go to jail like you were supposed to?”
“Put the gun down.” Rafe’s flat voice sent chills down my spine. “I won’t go to jail for a crime I didn’t commit.”
Gun? Uh-oh. I’d better act fast if I wanted to save us. With fear-thickened fingers, I keyed in the emergency number. “This is Cleopatra Jones,” I whispered into the phone. “I’m at fourteen eighty-six Manor Run Road. A woman with a gun just broke in here.”
“Please stay on the line,” the dispatch operator said.
“I can’t.” I tried to shiver away the mantle of black fright. It didn’t budge. “I have to save Rafe. Sorry.”
“Put the bat down,” the intruder ordered. “What evidence do you have against me? What did Starr tell you?”
“Why’d you kill my sister? Answer me, Ashley.”
Ashley?
My heart jumped. I’d been thinking Mary all along. Overworked, overlooked Mary. Britt was right. Guessing got you nowhere. “I gotta go. The intruder’s name is Ashley Webber.” I placed the open phone on the rug by the door.
“Come on out, Cleo. I know you’re hiding in there,” Ashley said. “Keep your hands where I can see them.”
I edged out the door, hands raised above my head. My breath came in shallow, quick pulses. This was one of my worst ideas ever. Rafe’s designing cousin wore black from head to toe, including a scarf over her nose and mouth. Her eyes blazed pure fury. In her hands was a .22 with a silencer on the barrel. Her weapon of choice, if you discounted her hobby of poisoning people.
“You won’t get away with this,” I shrilled, wincing at my high-pitched voice. “If I figured it out, so will the cops.”
“No more head games,” Ashley said. “Since there are two of you, I’ll set the stage for a murder suicide. Given Cleo’s aggressive behavior in Potomac, the police will believe Rafe silenced her to protect his family, felt remorse over his action, and killed himself.”
To my horror, Rafe rushed his cousin, and the gun discharged. The shot was so quiet, you’d barely know a bullet had been fired, unless you overlooked the hole in the lampshade and the gouge in the drywall. Couldn’t think about that now. I had to save Rafe.