Hell (35 page)

‘Anyone want a beer?' Claudia asked.

‘Sounds good to me,' Martinez said.

‘How about we throw a few steaks on the grill?' Daniel said.

‘Haven't we eaten enough?' Grace said, curled up on a couch, shoes off.

‘I could eat a steak,' Robbie said.

‘When couldn't you?' Mike said.

Claudia stretched. ‘I'm feeling so lazy.'

‘You're entitled, sis,' Grace said. ‘What a great party.'

‘I almost forgot,' Martinez said to Sam. ‘My car was sounding a little off on the way over.'

‘Want me to go take a look with you?' Sam said.

‘My husband, the mechanic,' Grace said.

‘He's no worse than me,' Martinez said.

‘Here.' Daniel tossed him a Bud.

‘Thanks, man.'

Sam had just opened the front door when the siren sounded.

‘Jesus,' Martinez said.

‘Probably something I did,' Sam said. ‘Damn door.'

‘I'll take a look,' Robbie yelled over the noise.

He sprinted across the great hallway over to the door that shielded the first-floor security system, checked the bank of monitors, instantly saw the familiar gray-hooded figure.

‘Just our old pal,' he called back to the others, muted the sounder, called the usual numbers with the code.

‘Happens all the time,' Sam told Martinez.

‘We still OK to look at the car?'

‘Sure,' Sam said.

In the security room, Robbie was taking another look at one of the monitors.

The old guy was still loitering.

Something in his arms.

‘Jesus,' he said, took one more look to be sure.

And then he yelled: ‘Dad, I think the wino's got Woody.'

Over in the nook, Grace, alarmed, scrambled to her feet.

‘Where's Ludo?' Claudia said, up too.

‘I don't know.' Grace was looking around for her sneakers.

‘Dan, what's going on?' Claudia called.

‘Did you have to yell so loud?' Daniel said, looking at the monitor over his son's shoulder. ‘You'll freak everyone out.'

‘It freaked me out,' Robbie said. ‘It is Woody, isn't it, Dad?'

‘I'm going out to take a look,' his father said.

Already on his way.

‘Anyone seen Ludo?' Robbie yelled, behind him.

‘Ludo's outside,' Grace shouted back, dragging on her left sneaker. ‘He's OK.'

The three-legged spaniel was out on the terrace, coming their way. She opened the big glass door, and the dog skulked past her as she headed out.

‘Grace, what do you think you're doing?' Claudia said.

‘I'm going to get Woody,' Grace said, over her shoulder.

‘Grace, leave this to Dan.'

It had been a while since anything had seemed quite this clear to Grace.

She was getting their dog back.

Now
.

‘Dan, will you please get out here,' Claudia yelled.

Upstairs, David and Mildred came out of the guest room.

‘What's going on?' Mildred asked.

‘Something about the dogs, I think,' David said.

‘Oh, my,' Mildred said.

David heard her tension.

‘I'm sure it's nothing,' he said.

‘You think?' Mildred said softly.

David looked at her, took her hand.

‘She's already through the gate,' Claudia told Daniel. ‘She wouldn't wait.'

‘It's OK. I'll go get them.' He stepped through the open door. ‘Make sure the others stay inside.'

‘Should I call the police?' Claudia asked.

‘We got two of them out in the driveway,' Daniel said.

Claudia turned, saw Mike on the phone.

‘Go get Sam,' she told him.

The two men had their heads under the hood of the Chevy when Mike opened the front door.

‘What's up?' Sam asked Mike.

‘I think the wino's got Woody,' Mike said. ‘Aunt Grace went to get him back.'

‘And you let her?' Sam pushed past the young man.

‘It's OK,' Mike said. ‘My dad's gone after her.'

Sam stopped, turned to Martinez. ‘Give me your gun.'

‘Out of jurisdiction, man,' Martinez said.

‘Just give it to me,' Sam said.

Outside Névé now, through the gate in the fence, on the stretch of sandy grassland between the property and the beach, Grace stopped dead, a little breathless.

She could see the man up ahead, holding Woody in his arms.

Gently. Not hurting him.

Careful.

‘Excuse me,' she called.

‘Ma'am,' the man called back.

Over the wind, and cries of gulls, she thought she heard Woody whine.

‘That's my dog,' she said.

Staying polite. Not going too close. Not certain why.

‘Grace.'

Daniel had come up behind her.

‘Let me,' he told her.

‘It's OK,' Grace said. ‘Woody's fine.'

She took a step forward.

‘Grace, no.'

She looked around at her brother-in-law.

He looked calm, but resolute.

‘I'll go get him for you,' he said.

‘OK,' she said.

Daniel began to walk toward the wino.

‘I don't know what happened to him,' the other man said, still cradling the animal. ‘I just found him out here, and he didn't look right.'

Drawing closer, Daniel saw that the wino's beard was grizzled, but his hood cast a shadow over his eyes.

Woody whined again.

‘Hope you don't mind that I picked him up,' the man said.

‘I'm very grateful.' Daniel put out his arms. ‘It's OK, boy.'

‘Easy,' the wino said, and passed the dog carefully over. ‘He's a nice boy.'

‘Thank you,' Daniel said, getting a whiff of beer and sweat.

He half-turned, looked back at Grace to show her.

‘I think he's OK,' Grace said to Sam.

Standing beside her now, breathing hard.

‘You shouldn't have come out here alone,' he said.

She glanced at his face, saw the grimness in it.

‘He's our dog,' she said. ‘And anyway, Dan was right behind me.'

She turned her head and saw Martinez and Mike waiting near the fence, like back-up, and then she looked down and saw the gun in Sam's hand.

‘Better put that away,' she said.

‘It's OK, Mom,' Robbie told Claudia. ‘Dad's got him.'

Both in the security room now, watching the scene on the monitors.

‘We're going to have to check that fence,' his mother said.

And then she bent forward, over her son's shoulder.

‘No,' she said, suddenly, sharply. ‘
No
.'

‘Anything we can do?' David asked from the door.

‘No!' Claudia pushed past him, flew across the expanse of white floor, out through the open door on to the terrace, saw Martinez and her older son standing out just beyond the fence.

‘Someone go help Dan!' she shouted.

‘Just there's where I think he's hurt,' the old man said.

He stepped right up close, and Daniel smelled him more strongly.

‘There,' the wino said. ‘See?'

Daniel bent his head, trying to see.

‘I don't—' he said.

And stopped speaking.

‘He's got a
knife
!'

They all heard Claudia's yell.

‘Oh, my God,' Grace said.

‘Get down,' Sam ordered.

Pushed
her hard, down on to the ground.

She heard a sharp click.

Then the gunshot.

‘Sam!' she cried out, got up on her knees.

He was yards away, and she saw Woody first, his tail down between his short back legs, running to her, barging into her, whining, needy.

‘Grace, you OK?'

Martinez, voice low, urgent, crouched beside her.

Grace looked up again.

Sam was hunkered down on the grass, one hand compressing the wound in Daniel's chest. He'd seen the knife in the hooded man's hand as he fled, and maybe if the bastard hadn't pulled the blade out, there might have been some hope, though he doubted it.

Too late now.

His fingers against Daniel's neck confirmed it.

Nothing in this world to be done for him.

He stood up.

The guy was moving away, limping, hit in the leg, but getting
away
.

Sam raised the Glock again, yelled a warning.

The killer kept on going.

Sam had him in his sight.

Pulled the trigger.

He saw the man fall, saw his body jolt, then lie still.

Sounds reverberated in Sam's ears, vibrated through his head. The gunshot's echo, waves, the mewing of gulls, screaming. Woody's whining. People shouting, running.

Then the unmistakable sounds of Claudia keening and Mike howling.

Martinez was beside him, easing the gun from his hands.

‘Stay here, man.'

Sam watched his partner until he'd reached the killer.

Saw Martinez checking the man over, for weapons first, heartbeat next.

He looked up at Sam, raised his right arm, thumb up.

Bad guy down.

Safe.

Sam looked back at the scene on the grass.

Tragedy building before his eyes.

Claudia weeping over her husband. Mike, who'd stopped making any sound, trying in vain for a pulse, for something still alive in his father, then staring up at Sam in his bewilderment. Robbie standing a few feet back, his face a mask of horror. David and Mildred coming out through the open gate behind the others.

Something inside Sam was sagging.

Grace was beside him.

He turned to look at her, saw that she was crying.

‘Tell me this isn't happening,' she begged.

‘I wish I could,' Sam said.

Grace gave a moan, and then she went to her sister, got down on her knees beside her and her sons, and the fallen husband and father.

And Sam started walking toward Martinez.

FIFTY-FIVE

September 15

T
here had been a new message scrawled on Jerome Cooper's cell wall yesterday morning.

Mostly, it had been gouged with a metal screw.

Some of the letters, though, appeared to have been written in blood.

His own.

They knew at the prison about the killer's self-abuse patterns, but until recently the habit had appeared to be dormant.

He'd started again a while back.

He liked using his blood as ink.

Hated it when they washed it off the walls.

The guard who'd seen the message yesterday had figured he'd better show it to his boss, but something had come up, trouble in another cell, and it had been close to the end of the day before he'd finally reported it.

The killer had scratched the same thing seven times.

And then, at the bottom – and this was the part he'd written in blood:

FIFTY-SIX

September 16

T
heir turn now to help Grace's sister and her sons, who had come to the island, told by the investigators to leave the crime scene. Everyone reeling, piling in to this small house, sleeping on couches and inflatable beds on the floors. Claudia in Cathy's old room, refusing sedation, refusing comfort.

They had heard her grief through the walls the last two nights, had tried to go to her, had been sent away.

There was and would be no consoling her or her boys, who sat staring like lost souls, still disbelieving.

‘She's insisting they go home tomorrow,' Grace told Sam. ‘She says Mike and Robbie need their space and their stuff, and however hard it's going to be, Dan put too much into the house for her to turn her back on it now.'

‘If that's how she feels,' Sam said. ‘And maybe she's right.'

‘But it's going to be worse than hard,' Grace said. ‘And if she won't even let us stay with her . . .'

‘It would be too much like before for you,' was what Claudia had said.

‘But this isn't about me,' Grace had replied.

‘I know that,' Claudia said. ‘But I have the boys, and I know you'll be there for us whenever we need you. But this is how it's going to be, isn't it, so I may as well let it begin.'

‘That kind, gifted, gentle man,' Grace said to Sam, in bed late Thursday night. ‘It makes no sense.'

‘It rarely does,' Sam said.

They lay still. Downstairs, the TV was still on, the grieving young men probably unable to sleep. From Cathy's old room, there was silence.

‘I know it wouldn't make any real difference,' Grace said, ‘but I wish we could at least understand why Jones did it. Was he just crazy?'

Matthew Harris Jones was the name of the hooded man who had knifed Daniel Brownley to death, his prints matching up with a Jacksonville-born, small-time larcenist.

‘Maybe,' Sam said.

Grace heard the note in his voice. ‘What?'

He hadn't told her yet about Cooper's blood message.

He told her now.

‘You think this was
him
?' The horror was so great it seemed to pump through her like floodwater. ‘The wino was
his
? All that time?' She sat up, fighting to comprehend it. ‘But Dan said he'd been a local character before they built their house.'

‘No one knows yet if that “character” was Jones,' Sam said. ‘It's unlikely, I guess, but not impossible that Cooper, or maybe even Bianchi, got rid of the old wino and put Matthew Jones in his place.'

Grace, shaken beyond belief, lay back, was silent again for a while.

‘But that means,' she said, finally, ‘that it should have been one of us.'

‘Not necessarily,' Sam said.

‘Of course it does. He took Woody,
our
dog, which made it more likely that we would go after him. And I did, didn't I? And if Dan hadn't come after me, hadn't taken over – and I let him.' The horror was pumping more forcefully with every thought. ‘Dear God, I let him.'