Killing Her Softly (13 page)

All eyes turned to the inspector.

"Yes, sir," Chad replied and headed off to do as he'd been told.

Jim gave Ted a questioning glance.

"Ms.
Vanderley
. . . Mr.
Vanderley
. . . if y'all will
come into my office, please."

"What is it?" Annabelle asked. "Has something happened?"

Ted shook his head. "Nothing unexpected. The ME just telephoned me with the preliminary results of Lulu's autopsy and I think it's best if we speak in private."

When Wythe grasped Annabelle's hand she jerked it away, then hurriedly walked past Ted and went into his office. After glancing around to see if anyone had noticed how decidedly his cousin had rejected his touch, Wythe followed her.

Ted motioned to Jim. "Come on in. Chad can join us after he contacts Cortez."

Quinn got out of his Porsche, retrieved his carryall from the trunk and flung it over his shoulder. He'd phoned Marcy last night to let her know he wouldn't be moving into the place she'd rented for them until this morning. He hadn't intended to spend the night with Kendall, but they'd both wound up forgoing their good intentions. He'd used Kendall and she knew it and had let him do it anyway. This morning he had some regrets. Mostly he regretted that she didn't mean as much to him as he did to her. He did care about Kendall, just not the way she wanted him to care. She had admitted that she was in love with him. In a way he wished he felt the same, but he didn't. He wasn't in love with her. He'd never been in love, didn't even believe in that kind of emotion. Not for him.

When he reached the front entrance of the condo, the door flew open and Marcy stood there frowning at him. He knew she didn't approve of his philandering ways.
Jace
had told him that Marcy hated all the other women in Quinn's life because she was probably in love with Quinn herself. He'd dismissed
Jace's
suspicions as nonsense, but in the back of his mind he wondered. If there was any chance whatsoever
Jace
was right, that was yet another reason to keep his relationship with his pretty, young assistant on a strictly friendship basis. Marcy was the last woman on earth he'd want to hurt. Without meaning to, he'd broken quite a few hearts over the years. Although he'd never lied to a woman, never made any promises he didn't intend to keep, he wasn't entirely blameless.

"Did
Jace
and Aaron come in with you yesterday?" Quinn asked knowing full well that they had. Marcy always followed his instructions to the letter.

"Aaron's eating breakfast.
Jace
is still asleep." Marcy reached out and took Quinn's carryall. "I'll put this in your bedroom. This place has four, one for each of us, although two are quite small. And if you're hungry, there's coffee and an assortment of cereal and fruit in the kitchen."

"Coffee will be fine." Quinn closed the front door behind him and followed Marcy through the foyer and into the living room of the fully furnished condo. Sleek and modern. Light wood. Dark leather. Chrome and glass. Not one personal touch in the house. But that was what Quinn had become accustomed to, what he expected. The only place Quinn kept personal mementoes of any kind was at the old frame farmhouse on his ranch in the hill country. Most of those were photos of him and his fellow juvenile delinquent buddy from their teen years, Johnny Mack Cahill and Johnny Mack's wife and kids. Even his penthouse in Houston possessed a sterile, unlived-in feel. He was a man without sentiment, with few personal ties, only a handful of friends and no family whatsoever. Money and power ruled him. Carnal pleasure was simply an enjoyable pastime.

"You might want to shower and shave," Marcy told him as she headed up the stairs. "The master suite is on the second floor, up this way."

"Any special reason I need to shower and shave?"

"Other than that you look like hell this morning?"

Quinn grinned. "Yeah, other than that?"

"A Sergeant George from the Memphis PD telephoned about ten minutes ago and requested the pleasure of your company this morning downtown at the Criminal Justice Center."

Chad George. The bastard! Quinn's latest nemesis. "Did he say why?"

"He wasn't specific. More questioning about Lulu
Vanderley's
murder, I suppose. I called Ms. Wells. She'll meet you there in half an hour."

"Kendall's due in court this morning," Quinn said as he followed Marcy into his bedroom.

"Another member of her law firm will be taking her place in court today."

Marcy opened the folding wooden doors to the closet and placed his carryall on the floor. He noted that half a dozen of his suits hung in a neat row in the closet, six silk ties adorned a metal tie rack and four pairs of shoes sat side-by-side on a shoe rack at the bottom of the closet. No doubt his laundered shirts were lined up in the chest, along with his underwear and socks.

"Kendall should have sent the associate to meet me instead of coming herself," Quinn said.

Marcy gave him a condemning stare.

"Don't look at me that way. Kendall should have known that I don't expect her to jump through hoops for me."

Marcy groaned. "God, Quinn, get real, will you? You spent the past twelve hours with her, making love to her. Of course she's going to put your welfare first. . . above everything else."

"The way you do," a deep male voice said from the doorway.

Both Quinn and Marcy shot quick glances in that direction. A barefoot
Jace
Morgan, wearing a T-shirt and worn jeans, grinned at them. "Sorry, I just came up to say hi to Quinn. Didn't mean to eavesdrop."

Ignoring
Jace's
comment, Marcy looked at Quinn. "You'd better hurry up. You've got thirty minutes to get ready and make your appointment on time."

"Where are you going?"
Jace
asked.

As she walked past him and out into the hallway, Marcy told
Jace
, "Quinn has to meet his lawyer at police headquarters this morning for further questioning."

"Want me to drive you?"
Jace
asked.

"Thanks, but not today." As Quinn headed into the bathroom, he paused and glanced over his shoulder. "Look, how about not saying things like that to Marcy again."

Jace
shrugged an I-could-care-less expression on his face. "Sorry, it just slipped out. But you know as well as I do that she's nuts about you. If you gave her the slightest encouragement, she'd jump you in a minute."

"I doubt that's true, but even if it is, Marcy's my assistant and my friend. And that's the way I intend for it to stay. But it wouldn't hurt if she found herself a boyfriend. Maybe you should ask her out sometime."

All color drained from
Jace's
tanned face. "She's not my type. Besides, I don't want your leftovers. I'd be a fool to get involved with a woman who's in love with you. Nobody can compete against you. You're The Man."

Quinn wasn't sure how to respond wasn't sure if
Jace's
comments had been a compliment, a slur or if he'd simply been stating the facts as he saw them. "Just go easy on her from now on. Okay?"

"Sure thing. Whatever you want, boss."

Quinn nodded.

Quinn had spent the night with Kendall Wells. She was his lover, just as Lulu had been. Another foolish, foolish woman. Didn't she know that he would break her heart again? Didn't she know that he had used her, the way he'd used so many other women over the years? She didn't mean anything to him. None of them did.
^v

She deserved to die, just as the others had deserved to die, so killing her would be easy. The first time had been dif-

ficult
, despite having good reason to kill the bitch, but with each woman, each death, it had become a little easier.

Just
like with Lulu and the others, when I cover her face with the pillow, I know that I'll be putting her out of her misery. I'll be saving her from the agony of loving Quinn Cortez.'

A voice from yesterday growled inside his head. "You've been a bad boy, Quinn. I'll have to punish you for your own good."

No, God, no, make her voice go away. Make her leave me alone.
Doesn’tt
she realize that everything I've done has been good, not bad. I don't hurt them. I help them. I give them peace. I kill them softly, tenderly.

Annabelle sat in one low-back, metal and vinyl chair across from Inspector Purser's desk and Wythe sat in the other. Before sitting, she had deliberately scooted her chair as far from his as possible. She hated that her animosity to her cousin was so apparent, but at least no one here had been ungentlemanly enough to inquire why she appeared to loathe Lulu's brother.

Wythe had shown up at the
Vanderley
apartment yesterday evening, just as he'd warned her that he would. She had hoped he wouldn't come, that as he so often did he'd threatened her with some action or other simply to get a reaction from her. When he arrived she had tried to keep him from entering. She had stood her ground and told him to go to the Peabody. He'd laughed in her face.

"Either we share this place or you go to the Peabody," he'd told her.

And that's what she'd done—packed her things and gone straight to the hotel. She'd shown up on Griffin Powell's doorstep at seven-thirty and had drinks with him until a suite could be prepared for her. During her hour with Griffin, he'd suggested that he provide her with a bodyguard whenever she was in public and would have to deal with the press. She had accepted his offer of providing one of his employees for the task.

"I just spoke to
Udell
White, our medical examiner, concerning the preliminary autopsy report," Inspector Purser said.

Annabelle snapped out of the mental fog she'd been in, thankful to put last night's unpleasant episode with Wythe out of her mind.

"Cause of death on the death certificate will read asphyxiation," the inspector said.

The office door opened and closed. Inspector Purser glanced at the person who had entered. "Come on in, sergeant."

"Yes, sir."

"Did you take care of that matter?" Purser asked. "Yes, sir."

Purser glanced from Annabelle to Wythe. "Lulu was suffocated which we pretty much already knew. She was smothered with one of the feather pillows on her bed."

Annabelle hadn't realized she'd gasped aloud until she felt a man's hands touch her shoulders with gentle comfort. She glanced up to see Chad George standing behind her.

Inspector Purser gave Chad a censoring glare, which prompted him to immediately remove his hands from Annabelle's shoulders. She sighed, feeling the loss of that tender touch. Chad had been so kind to her, so caring.

"Was she . . . was she raped?" Wythe asked in a low, weak voice.

Annabelle glowered at him.

"There is no evidence of rape," Purser said. "Actually, there is no evidence of sexual activity shortly prior to her death."

"Thank God" Wythe said. "I couldn't bear it if I thought she had been violated that way."

Annabelle gritted her teeth.
Count to ten,
she told herself.
Just don
1
say or do anything you
'11
regret later.

Once again the inspector glanced from Annabelle to Wythe. "Were either of you aware that Lulu was pregnant?"

"What?" Wythe and Annabelle cried simultaneously.

"She was approximately six weeks pregnant," the inspector said. "I take it that neither of you knew."

"No, I didn't," Annabelle said then cast a suspicious glance at Wythe. "Did you know? Did she tell you?"

"No. I swear to God she never said a word to me."

She didn't believe him. The bastard lied so easily and so frequently that she doubted he knew the difference between the truth and a lie. If Lulu had been pregnant, she would have told Wythe.

"I was hoping she had confided in one of you," Purser said. "It would help us in the investigation if we knew who the father is."

Annabelle couldn't speak, could barely breathe. Please, dear Lord. Please don't let it be him.