Forget to Remember (31 page)

Michael fired at the light. Almost
simultaneously, Ivan fired. Michael grunted. Carol saw his gun hand
drop to the ground. Ivan kept his gun trained on Michael, watching
for movement. There was none. Ivan approached Michael and kicked
his gun away from him toward the well. Carol held the flashlight
while he inspected Michael. He turned to Carol who was standing and
leaning against the well for support.

“He’s either dead or close to it.”

There was a groan from the well. Carol shone
the flashlight on Tim. “He’s still alive.”

“I’m going to the house to let them know
what happened. They’ll have heard the shots. We’ll call the police
and the rescue squad.”

“I’ll stay here and comfort Tim. Do you want
the flashlight?”

“No, you keep it. I’ll be fine.”

“Be careful. The ground’s rough.”

“The danger should be over. If Michael
moves, grab the gun and shoot him. Otherwise, don’t touch it.”

Ivan walked toward the house. Soon Carol
could see only a faint silhouette to tell her where he was. Then
even that disappeared. Tim groaned again. Carol told him everything
was going to be all right. She hoped so. How were they going to get
him out of the well? She shone the flashlight down the well so he’d
know she was there.

She saw the light from another flashlight
before she heard footsteps.

“I see you’ve taken care of the problem of
Michael.”

“Paul.” Carol recognized his voice as he
came around the old house even before she had him in the beam of
her flashlight. “Did you just get here?”

“Yes. I see I missed all the fun.” He ran
his flashlight over Michael’s body.

“I didn’t see your car come in.”

“I parked outside the gate. I didn’t want to
spook anybody. Congratulations.”

“I don’t feel like celebrating. We killed my
brother.”

Paul’s flashlight found the gun in the grass
and he bent to pick it up.

“Shouldn’t you leave that alone? It’s
evidence, isn’t it?”

Paul laughed. “You’re telling an attorney
about evidence? It’s okay. I’m using a handkerchief.”

“Ivan’s going to call the police.”

“Good.”

“I thought you were going to call the police
before.”

“I didn’t have a chance. You see, I had to
come as far as you did. Maybe farther.”

“Where were you?”

“I was in Fairfax, just like you were.”

Carol didn’t understand. “What were you
doing there?”

“After you and Ivan talked to me this
morning—I should say yesterday morning; it’s after midnight—I
realized that since you’d outed Michael he was no longer a problem,
at least to me. He wouldn’t be pulling the strings of the
foundation anymore. So I called Katherine Simpson and made an
appointment with her.”

“You drove to Fairfax and talked to
Katherine?”

“You catch on fast.”

“Did you reach an agreement?”

“We did. To make it work, I only have to do
one more thing.” He pointed Michael’s gun at Carol.

“Don’t point that at me.”

“You don’t understand, do you? The agreement
between Katherine and me is that I’ll take over control of the
foundation. The only thing that stands in our way is you.”

“You’ve lost your mind. If you kill me,
you’re throwing away millions.”

“
Au contraire
. Why should I settle
for a few million when I can have almost four times that much,
after a few payoffs? Katherine would rather spend her life with me
in some exotic land than Michael, anyway. You’ll forgive me saying
so, but your brother is strange.”

“You won’t get away with this.”

“You’re so smart you shouldn’t have to
resort to clichés. Of course I will. They’ll find your body shot
with Michael’s gun, which will be in his hand. My car is on the
other side of the fence, which is propped open, and I’ll be long
gone when Ivan comes back and when the police get here. The
response time in this neck of the woods isn’t what it should
be.”

“Ivan will know Michael didn’t shoot
me.”

“But he won’t be able to prove it, will he?
Maybe Michael’s hatred for you woke him up long enough for one last
shot.”

There was a groan from the well. Paul
glanced toward it, taking his eyes and his flashlight off Carol.
Reacting before she thought, she ran around the corner of the old
house. Paul yelled something and fired a shot that ricocheted off
the house. Carol rounded the next corner. The only door was on this
wall. Keeping the beam of the flashlight in front of her to assure
that she wouldn’t fall on the rotten steps that went up to the
small porch, she climbed them and burst through the open
doorway.

The narrow and rickety stairway to the
second floor was just to the right of the door. Carol climbed the
first three steps to the narrow landing and banged her head on the
low ceiling. She almost cried out loud. She stood there for a
moment, stunned. She could hear Paul’s footsteps as he approached
the porch. She had to keep moving. She made the ninety-degree turn
to the left and climbed the rest of the stairs as fast as she
could. Paul’s flashlight beam found her, and he fired a shot just
as she went through the doorway at the top. It hit the wall behind
her.

There were two rooms on the second floor.
Carol suddenly remembered that several of the floorboards in the
first room were loose. She avoided them and went into the second
room. There wasn’t any place to hide. She stood beside the doorway
that had no door and turned off her flashlight, holding it so she
could use it as a weapon.

She heard Paul’s heavy footsteps below. He
was still on the first floor.

“Carol.”

She didn’t move. There was silence for a few
seconds. He must be intimidated by the layout. This wasn’t like
climbing the stairs in his house.

“You can’t hide from me.”

Now who was mouthing clichés? Ivan must have
heard the shots and would be coming as fast as he could. She hoped
he didn’t trip on the rough ground as he navigated past the trees
and bushes between the two houses in the dark. If she could just
hang on for another two minutes…

Carol heard several steps and then a loud
yell. Paul had hit his head on the ceiling at the landing where she
had. Silence for a few seconds. Had it put him out of commission?
Her
head was still aching.

No, she could tell by the creaking sounds
made by his feet on the old steps that he was carefully climbing
the rest of the stairs. His flashlight beam came through the
doorway into her room and shone on the opposite wall. That meant he
was at the top of the stairs. She gripped her flashlight tighter.
He knew she wasn’t in the first room by now. He would come across
to the second one.

She heard more footsteps and then a crash
and a yell. He had stepped on a loose floorboard. She peeked around
the doorway. Paul’s flashlight was lying out of his reach on the
floor, still switched on, with the beam pointed away from both of
them. Carol saw the dark shape that was Paul, apparently wedged in
a hole in the floor. He was struggling to get out and cursing.

Did he still have the gun? Carol didn’t want
to turn on her flashlight and give away her position. He fired. The
bullet smashed through the flimsy wall beside her. She ran to the
far corner of the room and lay down flat on the floor. Another
shot. She flinched. He was firing at random, hoping to get lucky.
She could hear the bullets tear through the wall, threatening to
bring the roof down on top of them.

She tensed, waiting to feel the pain of a
bullet hitting her. How many shots did he have? The firing stopped.
Carol’s ears were ringing. Was he out of ammunition or was this a
trick? She heard footsteps below.

“Carol?”

It was Ivan. Did she dare answer? She heard
Paul yell and then a cracking of boards, followed by a thud from
the first floor. She got up and went cautiously to the doorway,
turning on her flashlight. Paul had disappeared, and there was a
hole where he’d been. She went over to the hole and shone her
flashlight through it.

Paul was lying on the floor with Ivan
standing over him, holding a gun, and a flashlight he had evidently
borrowed from the guard.

He looked up. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine now. A little shaky. Thanks for
coming.”

“It looks like you can take care of
yourself. His legs were waving in the wind. All I did was pull him
the rest of the way through the hole.” He looked down at the heap
on the floor. “I didn’t know Paul was such a bastard. How am I
going to collect my fee?”

“Don’t worry about that.
I’ll
pay
you—double.”

“Then I’ll have to give half back to you for
your assistance.”

They both laughed.

CHAPTER 40

“Mrs. Horton—Grandma—helped me find my birth
certificate. I’m also getting a replacement for my North Carolina
driver’s license—the genuine one. I even know my Social Security
number.” Carol was bubbling with excitement as she talked to Rigo
on the phone.

“Great. I’m glad you’re finally going legit.
The IRS will be too. What’s the full name on your birth
certificate?”

“Cynthia Horton Sakai.”

“Nice name. I guess I’ll have to call you
Cindy from now on.”

“You can call me Cynthia if you like, but
not Cindy. It brings back bad memories of Michael. Speaking of
memories, I’ve remembered a few things that helped me, such as the
loose boards on the second floor of the old house. But I had to hit
my head on the ceiling to do it. Maybe that’s what I needed.”

“Another blow to the head? I never heard of
that as a cure.”

“Yeah, that sounds dubious. And painful.
Guess what. I have a math degree from the University of
Massachusetts.”

“Surprise, surprise. Did you have a funeral
for Michael?”

“He was cremated. We had a memorial service.
Grandma and I were about the only ones who attended. Katherine, the
woman at the foundation, didn’t even show up. Of course, she’s been
indicted for all kinds of fraud.”

“What about Paul?”

“He’s in trouble up to his eyeballs. In
addition to facing a charge of attempted murder, he’ll probably get
disbarred.”

“He always sounded like a sleazebag to me.
I’m glad you’re rid of him.”

“Me, too.” She would never tell Rigo the
whole story about their relationship.

“All that must have generated a lot of
publicity in your area.”

“You wouldn’t believe it. With Michael
coming back from the dead and then really getting killed, with
Paul’s shenanigans—yeah, the reporters have been hounding me. I’ve
been on TV and everything. They call me the forgetful heiress.” She
changed the subject. “I forgot to tell you that Tim, the security
guard Michael stuffed in the well, is going to be okay.”

“I hope he doesn’t have claustrophobia.”

“It wasn’t easy getting him out. The firemen
had to come in with all their equipment. He said he was glad he was
able to protect us. His groan at the right time probably saved my
life. How’s your job going?”

“Which one? I’m working more and more for my
parents’ business. I may have to curtail my dishwashing hours.”

“That would be a shame. You’re so good at
it. Oh, more big news. I’ve been appointed executor of my parents’
estate, with Grandma’s help.”

“Terrific. I guess the DNA tests
helped.”

“Frances got the DNA tests expedited. We
have the same mitochondrial DNA and the matches in our autosomal
DNA show we’re closely related. I thanked Frances for her help. I
want to visit her when I’m in California. We don’t even have to get
a court-ordered retest.”

“When are you coming?”

“Next week. I’ll finally be able to get away
for a few days. Thank your parents for inviting me to stay with
you. I owe them more than I can repay.”

“We’re just glad to know you’ve discovered
who you are.”

“I put my parents’ house on the market. I’m
going to live on the farm with Grandma. I love it here.”

“Oh.”

Did she hear disappointment in Rigo’s voice?
“But I like California, too. I suspect I’m going to become
bi-coastal.”

“You’ll have to buy yourself an
airplane.”

“Who knows? The sky’s the limit—joke
intended.”

They chuckled. Rigo tried to hide his
feelings for her by keeping his tone of voice light, but Carol was
sure they went deep. Her feelings for him did, too. Now that she
was a real person she would finally have a chance to show them.

***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Run into
Trouble
, winner of several awards,
chronicles a race along the California Coast in 1969 during the
Cold War. As participants and former undercover agents Drake and
Melody encounter deaths and other obstacles, they fear that the
Cold War is about to heat up.

After spending more than a quarter of a
century as a pioneer in the computer industry, Alan Cook is well
into his second career as a writer.

The Hayloft: a 1950s
mystery
and prize-winning
Honeymoon for Three
feature Gary Blanchard, first as a high school senior who has
to solve the murder of his cousin, and ten years later as a
bridegroom who gets more than he bargained for on his
honeymoon.

Hotline to Murder
takes place at a crisis hotline in Bonita Beach,
California. When a listener is murdered, Tony and Shahla team up to
uncover the strange worlds of their callers and find the
killer.

His Lillian Morgan
mysteries,
Catch a Falling Knife
and
Thirteen
Diamonds
, explore the secrets of
retirement communities. Lillian, a retired mathematics professor
from North Carolina, is smart, opinionated, and loves to solve
puzzles, even when they involve murder.