Fugitive (29 page)

All right, I' m coming, but this better be good.

Thank you, Charlie. Thank you.

Sally hung up and Charlie sat on the edge of the bed reviewing what had just happened. She'd said she could show him something that would get his case dismissed. It sounded too good to be true. What could she possibly know now that she didn't know twelve years ago?

Sally hadn't sounded happy or confident. She'd sounded desperate and panicky, emotions he would never have associated with her. What was she afraid of and why couldn't she wait until morning to show her evidence to him? It was very confusing, but he was too tired to work out the problem and too revved up to fall asleep. He called the front desk, asked them to get a taxi for him, and got dressed.

THE CABBIE WAS a grizzled, talkative Ukrainian who spent the early part of the ride giving Charlie his unsolicited opinion of the current state of soccer in the United States. Much to Charlie's relief, he shut up after they left the highway and the signs of civilization faded away. It was spooky driving through the sparsely populated farm country in the dark.

Even with Sally's directions the driver almost missed the narrow entrance to her estate. The woods closed around them as soon as they passed through the break in the stonework, giving Charlie the unsettling, claustrophobic feeling that he was inside a coffin of leaves. His anxiety didn't ease when they drove out of the forest. In daylight, the colorful flower beds and bright green lawn made Sally's antebellum mansion look cheerful. At night, with only the pale rays of a half moon to illuminate it, the house resembled a skull.

When they drove up to the front of the house, Charlie looked for some sign of life and finally spotted dim yellow light seeping through the curtains in a downstairs room.

Stop here, Charlie said when the cab reached the front door.

You want me to wait? the driver asked.

Charlie thought about that. Sally had said she would drive him back to town, and he had a cell phone.

No, you can go.

Charlie got out and the cab drove off. There was a soft breeze, a faint smell of freshly mown grass, night sounds, and nothing else. He was spooked, so he turned in a slow circle to make sure no one was behind him. He had almost completed his turn when he thought he saw movement where the woods ended and the lawn began. He peered into the darkness. The space between the low branches of a tree seemed to disappear and reappear. He strained to find the cause but heard and saw nothing. He blamed the phantom on his imagination and climbed the porch steps.

No one had left a light on, so it took Charlie a moment to find the doorbell. The chimes echoed hollowly in the downstairs hall. As Charlie waited for Sally, there was a faint sound behind him. He turned toward the yard but still saw nothing. When he turned back, his eyes had grown accustomed to the dark and he noticed that the front door was not flush with the frame. He pushed and it opened. Charlie hesitated before stepping inside. There was a glow at the end of a long hall. Charlie inched toward the light and called Sally's name. He was waiting for an answer when he saw the dog. It lay on its side partially hidden by a low cedar chest that stood against the staircase to the second floor. Charlie assumed the collie was sleeping. Then it dawned on him that, sleeping or not, the dog would have come awake when he called to Sally.

Charlie walked to the chest and peered over it. The collie's head was in a shadow and it took him a moment to see that it was resting in a puddle of blood. He jumped back, almost tripping over his own feet. If Charlie's DNA contained a gene for common sense, he would have fled. Instead, he picked up a brass candlestick from the top of the chest and started down the hall toward the light. His feet made no sound on the carpet and he could hear his heart beating rapidly. Charlie's heightened senses focused on the open doorway at the end of the hall. As he inched closer, he could see a rug, the end of a couch, and part of a table.

Charlie pressed his back to the wall and slid sideways toward the room, brandishing the candlestick like a club. When he reached the doorway, Charlie paused and took a deep breath. Then he spun through the door, his arm raised above his head.

He was in a large living room and the light he'd seen from the end of the hall came from a table lamp that stood next to a phone. Next to the end table was a straight-backed, wooden chair. Sally Pope was secured to it by duct tape. Her head had fallen forward. She was wearing a white nightgown that showed the blood that drenched the front of it to maximum effect.

Charlie also took in the body of a dark-haired woman sprawled on the floor in front of a long couch. He couldn't tell if she was dead or unconscious. He was about to go to her when a muffled sound brought him around. A wild-eyed teenage boy was lying on the floor near the fireplace, tied tight by the same gray duct tape that bound Sally to her chair. He was trying to tell Charlie something but his words were muffled by the tape that sealed his mouth.

Charlie started toward the boy, who jerked his head violently toward the drapes hanging on either side of French doors that opened onto the patio. The drapes moved and a man appeared. He was dressed in black and his face was hidden behind a ski mask.

Who ? was all Charlie got out before the man raised the gun he was holding. Charlie heard someone moving behind him just before he was shot. As he fell, he heard more shots and the sound of shattering glass. Then he passed out.

Dad, Amanda said as soon as Frank Jaffe answered the phone, Sally Pope is dead. She's been murdered.

Amanda waited for a response. Dad? she repeated when she got none.

I I' m just What happened?

It was 6:38 in the morning. Frank was getting ready for work and had just finished in the bathroom. The unexpected ring of the phone had startled him. Now his daughter's words stunned him and he slumped on the edge of the bed.

I don't know all of the details, but Charlie Marsh was shot. That's how I found out. He had someone call me from the hospital. Sally was murdered in her house. He was there.

What was Marsh doing at Sally's house?

I don't know. I' m going to the hospital. I'll let you know what I find out.

Amanda hung up. Frank held the receiver for a moment. It took an effort to return it to its cradle. Suddenly Frank felt very old. His shoulders sagged. A sob escaped his lips and he was consumed by grief.

THE POLICEMAN WHO was guarding Charlie's hospital room checked Amanda's ID before letting her in. Charlie was propped up in bed connected to monitors and IV bags by an array of wires and plastic tubing. His tan was a few shades paler and his left arm was in a sling.

How are you feeling? Amanda asked as she dragged a chair to the side of the bed.

If I'd known how good morphine felt I would have gotten shot a long time ago, Charlie answered with a sloppy grin. Then he sobered. They wouldn't tell me anything. Is Sally dead?

Amanda nodded. And Gina, her personal assistant. Sally's son wasn't harmed physically but he's so traumatized that the doctors won't let the police interview him. You' re the only other survivor. The detective in charge of the investigation is in the waiting room. He wants to interview you. I told him I'd ask you what you want to do.

This is so terrible. I liked Sally.

Will you talk to the detective? I'll be with you to protect you if he gets too far afield.

Yeah, I'll do it.

One thing they'll want to know is why you' re not dead.

That's easy. Someone saved me.

Who?

I don't know. I never saw him.

What were you doing at Sally Pope's house in the middle of the night?

She called me. She wanted me to come alone, right away. She claimed to know something that would get my case dismissed.

What was it?

She wouldn't tell me. She said she had to show it to me.

How did she sound during the call?

Shaky, panicky.

Do you think she was being forced to say what she did to lure you to her house?

I' m sure of it. The killer probably threatened her kid to force her to call me.

Amanda nodded agreement. Go on.

I took a cab. When I got there, the house was dark. I went in, saw that someone had killed the dog, and noticed light coming from the living room. When I walked into the room Sally was taped to a chair. Her head was down, so I couldn't be sure she was dead, but there was blood all over her nightgown. There was another woman sprawled on the floor.

That was Gina.

Sally's kid tried to warn me, but the killer had taped his mouth shut so I didn't know what he was saying. Then this guy came out from behind the curtains and shot me.

You' re certain it was a man?

Pretty certain. He was wearing a ski mask and gloves, but he had a man's physique.

Okay, what happened next?

Just before I was shot I heard someone behind me, but I was shot before I could turn. There were more shots behind and in front of me and glass breaking. I' m guessing that was the French windows. Then I woke up here.

So there were two shooters, Amanda mused. That might explain the 911 call.

What 911 call?

It's why you didn't bleed to death. Someone made an anonymous call to 911. Otherwise you wouldn't have been found in time to save you. When the medics arrived you were almost dead from blood loss. I' m guessing that the person who saved you also made the call.

The door opened and the police guard stepped in. He didn't look happy.

There's a man out here who insists he's part of the defense team. He wants to talk to Mr. Marsh.

Tell this cop I work with you and I' m entitled to see our client, Dennis Levy yelled angrily from the corridor.

Excuse me, Amanda said to Charlie. She stepped outside and grabbed Levy by the elbow.

Come with me, she said as she led Dennis down the hall until they were far enough from the officer so he couldn't hear them.

You are not a member of the defense team, Amanda said. You are a reporter and you have no legal right to talk to Charlie.

Now wait a minute. This story is huge, Levy said as he bounced in place with excitement.

Aren't you the least bit concerned that Charlie was shot?

Hey, I' m sorry he was hurt. Really, I am. But you have no idea how big this story is. I mean, no idea!

I know how big you think it is because you've told me several times. What you haven't shown me is any compassion toward any of the people involved. Has it gotten through to you that several people were murdered last night? They' re dead, Dennis.

Hey, reporters deal with death all the time. If I got emotionally involved I couldn't do my job.

Your lack of emotional involvement is pretty obvious, but I can't shut off my emotions. I do care about Sally Pope and Gina and Charlie, who are all human beings. Charlie could have died. I bet that would really have messed up your plans. Now go to the waiting room and don't bother the police officer anymore. I'll tell you what I can when I come out.

Amanda waited until Dennis turned the corner, before approaching the guard.

I apologize for Mr. Levy. He gets overzealous at times.

The officer nodded but he still looked angry. When Amanda reentered Charlie's room he was staring at his blanket, deep in thought.

There's something I want to tell you, Charlie said.

Go ahead.

I was lying here thinking about how I almost died and what I've done with my life. Before Freddy went nuts and kidnapped those hostages I was nobody, a petty crook. Then I got to be somebody but it was because I lied.

It was because you saved the hostages.

You know why I threw myself over that guard? I didn't give a shit about him. I did it for me. I knew I'd be in jail for life if Freddy killed him. That's the only reason I did it, to save my skin, not his.

And that inner light bullshit. That's all it was, bullshit. I didn't see any lights when I got shot just now and I didn't see any when I was stabbed. Mickey Keys thought up that gimmick because it would get me on TV. And he was right. Everyone ate it up, but it never happened. Neither did half the stuff I wrote in my book. Or at least it didn't happen to me. Freddy committed most of those crimes and was in the fights. I' m a coward. I've never gotten into a fight I could run from and I never used a gun or Well, you get the picture. So, I've been thinking. I should set the record straight in my new book. I should tell the truth. If I do, what do you think Dennis will say?

I don't know and, frankly, I don't care. In the end, you have to do what you think is right, no matter what Levy thinks. Right now, however, you should talk to the police so they can catch the person who killed Sally and tried to kill you.

Amanda left and Charlie thought about what he'd just said. He could tell the truth about some of the things that he'd lied about, but he wouldn't tell the whole truth about what had happened at the Westmont Country Club the night Arnold Pope Jr. died, unless he had no choice.

The day after Sally Pope's murder, the PI in Denver called Kate to tell her he'd located Werner Rollins. Until a month ago, Rollins had been serving time in the Colorado State Penitentiary for armed robbery, but he was currently on parole. Kate talked to Henrietta Swift, Rollins's parole officer, who called back an hour later to tell Kate that Rollins had agreed to meet her.