Don't Close Your Eyes (44 page)

“I wrote letters to the few relatives with whom I remained in touch and sent them to Ruth, who forwarded them so they would have a Knoxville postmark. Ruth also made certain to be seen every day by her neighbors. She walked her dog. I never appeared in Knoxville. Ruth is the only woman neigh

bors and business people in Knoxville have ever seen.” She shrugged. “There are recorded cases of this kind of scheme being pulled off for years, but I wouldn’t have risked it. I only needed a few months, long enough to move here and establish myself before I began my work.”

“Your work being the murders,” Natalie said flatly.

“Yes, of course. I made a few friends, including little Paige’s sitter, Mrs. Collins. We attended the same church, were on the same committee. I was just dropping by some leaflets to her tonight when unfortunately Paige recognized me from that night at the Saunders house. She tried to hide it, but those expressive eyes gave her away.”

“You didn’t go to the house to get her so you could use her to lure me here?”

Constance gave her a genuinely innocent look. “No. I’d been led to believe she couldn’t possibly identify who was at the Saunders house that night. Besides, I thought she’d be in bed, and I only planned to hand the leaflets to Mrs. Collins and leave. I wasn’t going in the house.”

“But you had a gun.”

“I always carry a gun these days,” Constance said offhandedly. “Really, this wasn’t how I planned things, Natalie. I didn’t intend to shoot you. I intended to slash your throat, like I did to the others. But when I saw that Paige recognized me, I didn’t have any choice but to make my move.”

“Then let Paige go,” Natalie begged.

“I can’t. Not now. You don’t seem to understand, Natalie, that I’m forced to do things I don’t always want to do.”

“Such as killing Tamara. You said you liked her.”

“And so I did. But Oliver Peyton had bungled my son’s case. Any fool could see that a first-year lawyer could have put on a better defense. So he had to pay by losing one of his children, just like I lost mine. I knew Tamara from the suicide hotline. She even told me about her evening walks. Choosing her instead of Lily was simply a matter of convenience.”

Rage, hot and bitter, rushed through Natalie. Gentle, loving Tamara had been killed because she was a convenient

target for this lunatic. Natalie wanted to rush at the woman, screaming and clawing, but that would only result in the death of Paige. Instead she clenched her fists and tried to force down her fury and disgust. “And then there was Charlotte and Warren.”

“Oh, I had no qualms about killing them. Awful people. The children of awful people. Max Bishop hounded my poor boy over a couple of hundred thousand dollars, as if he’d ever miss it! And that lout Richard Hunt. My husband knew him! But he still pointed the finger at Eugene. He could have covered up the embezzlement so easily! But no, he had to show off.”

To Constance, everything was personal. Her son had not been brought to justice—he had been persecuted. “I understand why you attacked Alison,” Natalie said. “She’s the child of Viveca. But what about Jeff? He was your nephew.”

Constance smiled. “Exactly. My no-good nephew. He was fired from his job at the newspaper, you know, so he decided to hit up good old Aunt Constance for a loan. He went to Knoxville and found not me, but Ruth.” She shook her head. “I’m afraid Ruth didn’t handle matters well. She should have stopped him, but she has no stomach for killing. At least she did warn me about him.

“Apparently during my early days in the hospital I’d raved about getting back at the people who’d hurt Eugene by hurting their children,” Constance continued. “And of course the murder of Tamara was in all the Ohio papers. Jeff was bright. He figured it out and decided to find me by tracking the people in Port Ariel that he thought I’d be tracking.”

Her eyes narrowed and her voice turned vicious. “He found me through you, Natalie. He watched outside your house the night of Tamara’s viewing and followed when your father took me home. He did nothing then. I didn’t even see him until the day of the funeral. That’s when I dropped my purse in the church. Andrew rushed me home. He waited until your father left, then he came to my door, brazen as sin. He planned to blackmail me.” She laughed harshly. “He got a nasty surprise. I dragged him to the basement and kept

him a prisoner until the perfect time to kill him.”

“A time when you could safely leave him in front of my house so I could find the body. Why?”

“Why you?” The gun shook slightly in her hand. Even her voice trembled. “Of everyone who hurt my Eugene, I hold your father most responsible. My son could have pulled through that operation. That nurse Dee Fisher said so. But Andrew botched it because he hated Eugene for stealing that tramp, Viveca. And after he’d murdered my son, he came into the waiting room with his matter-of-fact expression and said Eugene hadn’t made it. That’s it. ‘Sorry. We did all we could.’ So blase.” Her voice rose shrilly. “There wasn’t an ounce of feeling, of compassion, in his eyes.”

Natalie knew this wasn’t true. Her father felt for all his patients, but Eugene Farley’s death had especially bothered Andrew. “If he had lived, he would have been brain-dead,” Andrew had told Natalie sadly. “At least he could have been an organ donor—he wanted to be—but his mother forbade it. Now nothing of that tragic young man lives on except the memory of a stupid mistake and a horrible death.”

Natalie heard a crunch of gravel outside. Paige blinked and Natalie knew she’d heard it, too, but Constance didn’t seem to notice, It had taken Andrew a long time to get here. Why? Were the police with him after all? Suddenly she knew she had to keep Constance distracted.

“You say you held my father most responsible for your son’s death,” she said. “You must have hated him, so why did you date him?”

“Dare!” Constance burst out. “I was researching! You didn’t live here. You didn’t even have your own place. I couldn’t ask Tamara a lot of questions about someone I’d never met. But your father supplied the answers, and I would have come after you, but you came home first!” She laughed. “Actually, your arrival in Port Ariel is what set everything in motion. It was a sign, you see. All the children were here, ripe for the picking.”

“Why didn’t you taunt the others like you did me?”

“It would have made everyone too careful. Besides, I wanted to hurt you the most.”

The creak of a door. A soft whisper of air. Someone entering the building. “But how did you pull off the things you did to me?” Natalie asked loudly. “The anonymous phone calls, for instance.”

“I told you, Natalie, I knew Tamara. I’ve always been good at mimicry. I could imitate her voice. I called you the afternoon you found her body. I have call block—I knew you couldn’t call me right back. Then there was the day you supposedly received the call from Lily telling you to come to Tamara’s. I simply called your number using my cell phone while you were in the shower.”

“You tried to talk me out of going!”

“Natalie, I’d heard enough about you from your father to know arguing would only make you more determined to do as you pleased!” She frowned. “Of course, when I sent you to Tamara’s I didn’t expect Jeff to be wandering around there, but it was really an added bonus because he frightened you.”

“And the night I came here to the pavilion and you hid, saying you were Tamara and threatening to kill me? You couldn’t possibly have known I’d be walking along the shore that night.”

“That wasn’t planned. I was here working. I’d already finished with the ball”—she looked up with pleasure at the sparkling, mirrored ball—“but there were so many other things to do to restore this place. I’d been here for hours, working by candlelight, and I needed a breather, so I walked along the lake. You know I’d made friends with Blaine earlier. She saw me and started toward me. I had no good explanation for being on the shore so close to your home that late at night, so I ran for the pavilion. The dog chased me. I guess she thought it was a game. And then you came to the pavilion. I was flustered at first. I was trying to hide when I stepped on something and yelped. In you charged, wanting to help, Natalie to the rescue! So I decided to take advantage of the situation.” She laughed again, that awful, brittle sound

with a note of hysteria capering underneath. “I never expected to almost get shot!”

“And you broke into our house.”

“I let myself in with keys. I’d stopped by your father’s office one day. The place was so busy no one noticed me poking through the desk drawers. I had copies of the keys made, then I made another little surprise visit and returned the keys. I went to your house several times before that night.”

Andrew had told her Ruth had only been to the house once, but the day Natalie met her she’d referred to the framed photo of Natalie and Clytemnestra in her father’s study. And the day she brought the cherry pie, she’d known which drawer the towels were kept. Why didn’t I notice these things? Natalie asked herself.

“Anyway, you shouldn’t be angry about the night I tore up your clothes and the picture and left the blood and the skull,” Constance went on. “I could have hurt Blaine, but I didn’t. I told you I love animals. But I’d frightened her. I made a point to never be around her again.”

“You were very clever, weren’t you… Constance?” Andrew said.

She looked up, but Natalie didn’t want to make any swift movement that might cause Constance to fire the gun held so close to Paige.

“Andrew,” Constance said calmly. “You don’t usually drive so slowly. You didn’t bring the police, did you? Or were you just considering whether or not you wanted to risk your life to save your daughter?”

“I won’t even answer the last question.” His deep voice echoed around the huge, empty room. “And I didn’t bring the police. Why are you doing this?”

“I already told Natalie. You’re going to watch me kill her.”

“You’re going to kill my daughter because your son killed himself?”

“You killed my son!” Constance flared. “You killed him on the operating table.”

“I did no such thing. I knew he was a lost cause as soon as I looked at him, but I tried.”

“That nurse said—”

“That nurse was furious with me over another matter. She was also out of her head over Eugene’s death.”

“You killed my son, Andrew. My only child. And now you’ll know the pain of losing your only child. An eye for an eye.”

“You’re very fond of quoting the Bible,” Natalie piped up. “Nice little quote you left at the murder scenes about their throats being an open tomb.”

“The quotation was apt. Max Bishop, Oliver Peyton, Viveca—none of them has ever done anything that’s good.”

“And my father has never done good?” Natalie asked.

” ‘Their feet are swift to shed blood.’ Your father raced to the hospital to shed my son’s blood on his operating table.”

“That is a damned lie!” Natalie shouted, suddenly losing control. “You twist the words of the Bible to mean whatever suits you.”

“You shut up!” Constance raged. Her arm tightened around Paige and she shook the little girl with such ferocity that her head snapped back. Her neck, Natalie thought in horror. She’s going to break Paige’s neck.

Natalie had not been aware of her father stepping off to the right until she heard him yell, “Constance!”

The woman whirled. Paige swung to the side, no longer providing a shield. Something roared past Natalie’s ear and she caught a glimmer of muzzle flash. Constance jolted, her eyes flew wide, and liquid splattered from her right shoulder.

Dad has my gun! Natalie thought in the startled moment before Paige broke free of Constance’s grasp and lunged away. She managed two stumbling steps before her feet tangled and she crashed to the floor of the dais. Constance fought to regain her balance, waving the gun before she dropped it from her injured right arm. She kneeled and grabbed for the gun, her fingers curling around the grip.

“Dad, shoot her!” Natalie pleaded. He fired, but the shot

flew wild. Constance laughed. Natalie shuddered at the laugh of a maniac.

A crash somewhere in the distance. A male voice yelling “Police! Freeze!” one second before a gunshot blasted through the room. Constance whirled again, gun raised, firing blindly before two more shots hit her. She crumpled into a heap with a soft laugh bubbling in her throat.

Natalie and Paige sat at the piano in the Meredith living room. Natalie finished Sarah McLachlan’s “I Will Remember You” with a slight catch in her voice. Paige looked up at her. “You were thinking about someone special, someone you won’t see again.” Natalie nodded, picturing Kenny’s handsome face. “Just like I won’t see my mommy.”

The pain Natalie felt knowing she would never return to Kenny couldn’t possibly compare with Paige’s pain over the death of her mother. Natalie put her arm around the child’s shoulders. “Paige, life is full of goodbyes. They hurt. But life is also full of hellos.” She smiled. “If I hadn’t said goodbye to someone a couple of weeks ago, I wouldn’t have met you.”

“And you’re glad you met me?”

“You bet I am!”

“And Daddy and Ripley?”

“Them, too.”

“That’s good to know,” Nick said.

Natalie hadn’t heard him come in. He looked tired after the recent events, but also relieved. “Daddy, guess what?” Paige asked excitedly. “We just got back from Dr. Cavanaugh’s and he says Ripley gets to come home tomorrow!”

Natalie smiled. “Ripley is doing fine after his surgery. He hurts, and he’ll need to rest in a cage for at least a week. Before you know it, though, he’ll be jumping off the newel post again.”

“Oh, great,” Nick groaned. “That’s one particular trick of his I could do without.”

Paige beamed. “I’m gonna go call … some friends and tell them about Ripley.”

When she left the living room, Nick motioned toward the couch. Then he sat down close to her. “Hard to believe that forty-eight hours ago Paige was in the hands of that maniac. You’d think nothing had happened to her.”

“She’s resilient but not indestructible. I think there might be repercussions.”