Haunting Refrain (38 page)

Bowan
backed toward the door, nudging John with her left hand. Scrabbling and shuffling sounds came from the hall, a low babble of voices. Raising her voice, she said, “We’re coming out! Clear the hall!”

There was no answer, but John thought he could still hear movement in the hall. God, he thought,
please don’t let anyone try to be a hero
. “Get away from the door!” he cried. “He’ll kill her!”

A calm voice answered. “The hall is clear. I’m the head
nurse,
the only one in sight, just making sure no one gets curious and comes out of his room.”

John thought it was Waite, maybe disguising her voice. If so, she had gotten here awfully fast. He watched Thomas
carefully,
saw no sign that he had recognized her.

Bowan
said, her voice
raised
slightly, “That’s an automatic he’s holding, probably a Browning nine millimeter. He can do a lot of damage with it. Do as he says, Gerrard.”

So it was Waite, John thought, and
Bowan
was giving her a message. He and
Bowan
backed through the door. In the periphery of his vision, he saw Burnett and Waite flattened against the wall on either side of the door, guns drawn. He kept his eyes on Thomas, not wanting to give away the officers’ presence. Waite gestured for John to go into the next room.

Before he could move, Thomas said, “Gerrard! You and the policewoman stand against the wall on the far side, where I can see you.”

He jammed the gun hard against Kate’s head, pushing her to the door. “I’m squeezing the trigger. If anyone makes a move, she’s dead.”

“If you shoot her, you won’t have a hostage,” John said, struggling to keep the panic out of his own voice as Thomas appeared in the doorway with Kate.

In an instant, while he was still sheltered in the doorway, he shifted. “Maybe not, but you won’t be the one to stop me.”

As soon as the pressure left her temple, Kate knew what Thomas was going to do. She hit his gun hand with all her strength just as he pulled the trigger, knocking his hand sideways. John slammed into the wall at the same time Waite hit Kate, knocking her to the floor. Burnett caught Thomas’s arm with both hands and twisted. Waite, her gun aimed at his head, reached out with her left hand and wrenched the Browning away from Thomas.

Kate, her heart wedged into her throat, scrambled across the floor to John, who was holding his left arm with his hand. Blood ran through his fingers. She wrapped her trembling arms around his midriff and held him as tightly as she could.
 
“Help him! Someone get out here!”

“I’ll be all right, Kate,” he said against her hair. “It’s really not bad. I’ll be lucky to get a war wound I can show off.”
 
His head snapped up. “Christ!”

Kate spun toward the group on the other side of the hall to see Gwen’s battered form weaving in the doorway, holding
Bowan’s
revolver in both hands. Waite kept her attention on Thomas as Burnett gently removed the gun from Gwen’s hand. She swayed.

Burnett slipped the gun in his pocket and caught her.
“Back to bed, ma’am.
It’s all over now.”

“No,” she protested through swollen lips. “Don’t shut me out. I need to know what’s happening.”

Nurses began peeping around the doors of the patient’s rooms. Four more officers in blue uniforms rounded the corner and halted in surprise at the crowded hallway. Waite nodded at Officer
Bowan
. “You do the honors, Officer. Three counts of murder, two of attempted murder.”

Bowan
whipped out her handcuffs and began reciting his rights.

“Three?” John asked over Kate’s head.

“Yes, we finally got the warrant. Found a stolen car in his garage, an old Ford. Someone murdered the owner for it a week ago. I suppose that was so he could get around without having someone spot that fancy Jaguar. “And what was he doing in Gwen’s room, Kate?”

From the doorway of Gwen’s room, where Burnett had pulled up a chair for her, Gwen said, “I remember what happened now. When I saw him standing by my bed, it all came back. I almost didn’t recognize him with the white hair and fat nose and cheeks.”

“I was too sleepy to recognize him at first. The swollen nose helped his disguise. But he injected an air bubble into Gwen’s IV. I hope I didn’t hurt you, Gwen,” Kate said, pulling John across to Gwen. She couldn’t bear to let go of him, even for a moment, but she needed to hold Gwen, too.

“Fat cheeks?”
Burnett asked.

“Yes, he had cotton wads in his mouth. He spat them out when Kate jumped across the bed and pulled the IV out of my arm,” Gwen rasped, running on adrenaline. Alert now, she held tightly to Kate.
 
“It was worth a little pain. You saved my life.”

Waite reached up and touched Thomas’s stiff, whitened hair, sniffed her fingers.
“Shoe polish.
And that’s makeup covering the bruises on his face.”

“How did you get here so quickly?” John asked the detectives, his bloody arm snaking around Kate’s shoulders. A nurse tried ineffectively to pry him loose and check the neat furrow the bullet had plowed in John’s arm.

“We were already on the way. Someone found an orderly in the bushes with a big knot on his head, wearing only his underwear. He had gone out to smoke. I guess it really was hazardous to his health.” She curled her lip at Thomas. “We were just wrapping up the search at Thomas’s house when they notified us. We knew it had to be him.”

Just then
Venice
came bustling around the corner by the nurses’ station, a sleepy-eyed Martin and a nurse trailing behind her. “Don’t tell me I can’t come in here, young lady. My friends are in trouble, and I’m going to be with them.”

“But, Ma’am,” the nurse said helplessly, throwing up her hands.

“Kate, would you get my computer and notes from the bathroom? I need to get on this right away,” John called as a doctor pulled him aside to examine his arm.

Kate hung up the phone and turned to Gwen and
Venice
. “John said Thomas was sentenced to life without parole. His mental state probably saved him from the death penalty.”

The three women breathed a collective sigh of relief. They had gathered at Gwen’s condominium, expecting John’s call. He was at the courthouse covering the sentencing phase of the trial and had promised to let them know as soon as the judge pronounced the sentence. The women had had enough of the courtroom during the earlier part of the trial.

“He said Charlene’s father was there. Maybe they can get on with their lives now,” Kate said. “Isn’t it wonderful that Rita got a scholarship to business school? It’s strange that it happened out of the blue like that.”

“Yes, isn’t it,”
Venice
tossed a quick, knowing look at Gwen. “Sometimes I think there really are guardian angels.”

“I’m just glad it’s over,” Gwen said, changing the subject. “But I feel so sorry for Thomas’s mother. She’ll carry the guilt forever.”

“It wasn’t her fault. If he had been a more stable person, her marriage wouldn’t have seemed such a betrayal to him.” Kate took a sip of her coffee and stood, setting the cup on the mantel.

Gwen wandered over to the window and absently rubbed her side. Her ribs had healed, but she still had an occasional twinge.

“At least the trial was quick. I was afraid it would drag on for months.” Kate moved restlessly around the room, touching a glass egg, straightening a book.

“There was so much evidence, and with Gwen’s testimony and the scene at the hospital, the information on elevators in his computer. I don’t see how there could have been any doubt.”
Venice
carefully touched a napkin to her lips. “And there was the attack in your studio, Kate.”

“Yes. And I never thanked you for the crystal ball,
Venice
. Ramses was right. It was definitely important—Thomas fell on it.” She shuddered at the memory. “It may have saved my life.”

“We all had a lot of close calls. If your breaking into Thomas’s house hadn’t triggered his alarm, I would certainly be dead.” Gwen paled, touched her throat. “He was choking me when the buzzer went off in his pocket. It must have been strictly an alarm because he grabbed it right away. As soon as he looked at it, he panicked and ran.”

“Thank goodness he was so paranoid. Such an elaborate alarm he had rigged up.”
Venice
patted her hair. “Ah well, it’s over,” she said, dismissing Thomas. “Let’s plan my party.”

* * *

Kate ducked out of the cold December rain and rang Gwen’s doorbell. She tilted the tray of hors d'oeuvre in her hand, letting the collected water run off the plastic wrapping. “Here they are. John made them last night,” she said when Gwen opened the door.

“Great. I’ll put them on the coffee table.” Gwen gave her a quick peck on the cheek and took the tray. “Where’s John?”

“On his way from work,” she said, collapsing the umbrella and dropping it into the lacquered stand by the door. “He was going to stop for a shower and then he’ll be here.” She shrugged out of her coat and hung it in the closet, revealing a sleek green slip of a dress, the one
Venice
had admired. A glittering row of rhinestones outlined the thin straps and ran across the top.

In the living room, Kate greeted Martin and
Venice
. “Hi.
Ready for the big day?”

“I’ve been ready for years,” Martin said, smiling fondly at
Venice
. “You look stunning, Kate.” He sounded mildly surprised.

“Yes, the transformation is amazing. You should do it more often,”
Venice
said. “Wait until John sees you.”

Much to her annoyance, Kate felt herself blushing. “I thought jeans would be inappropriate for your rehearsal party,
Venice
. Is everything ready for tomorrow?”

“Yes. I could have done it weeks ago, but I wanted to wait until Gwen had recovered. I admire her for going about her business while her face was healing, but I didn’t want her to get all the attention at my wedding.” She turned to Gwen. “I may have made a mistake, my dear. You’re more beautiful than ever now and will still get lots of attention.”

“You’re sweet to say so, but I’ll never have the warm glow you do.” Gwen glanced quickly in the mirror.

Her face had healed, but they all knew the wounds inside would take much longer.

Kate had felt Gwen’s withdrawal, but didn’t know how to help her. She had hoped planning this party for
Venice
and Martin would bring her out. Maybe when John got here they would get a real smile from her.

The bell rang again. Kate stayed in the living room near the fireplace and let Gwen get the door. She wanted John to come to her, maybe be a little surprised. He had never seen her like this. She had worked hard at her makeup and hair tonight, knew the dress was flattering. She deliberately turned her back to the door, gazing into the fire. Meryl
Streep’s
mysterious, intriguing appearance in
The French Lieutenant’s Woman
hovered in the back of her mind.

It had all the effect she had hoped for. John followed Gwen into the room and stopped dead, staring across the room at Kate.

She turned slowly to face him, smiling softly, caught in the golden glow of firelight.

When he could breathe again, he said, “My God! Are you the same red-headed witch I know and love?”

Kate’s mysterious smile broadened into her usual wide grin. “Yes, I am,” she said as John kissed her.

After a moment he turned to
Venice
. "Now I get to kiss the bride." He gave her a loud, smacking kiss.
 
"Martin, you're a lucky man. I know that's fried chicken I tasted."