Lethal Affair (45 page)

Kylie's ankle healed. At Valley Farms,
she and her crew were busy if not overworked. They were gearing up
for the coming winter months when the fields would lie dormant
under their blankets of frost and all plant production would be
under the clear acetate roofs of the temperature controlled
greenhouses.

Kylie threw herself into the demanding
physical aspect of her work, giving her little time to think. When
she did, the same question tumbled in her mind: was there something
she could do to prevent Drew from involving others?

At mid week Kylie supervised her crew
on soil preparation. They made their various blends in large drums
which were turned to mix soil, peat, vermiculite and compost with
an electronic winch. Each ingredient was fed in with pitch forks or
shovels.

Sweating despite the autumn chill,
Kylie tossed aside her shovel and picked up her clipboard to tick
off this latest batch from her list.

A shadow fell over her and she
jumped.

“
Sorry. Didn't mean to scare
you.” It was Margie, and standing next to her were Olivia and
Stanley Hammond. “I'll leave you all to talk.” She headed back to
her office.

Kylie peeled off her gloves and shook
their hands. “You should have had Margie call me into the office.
There are chairs and everything.”

“
Ms. Farmer offered but we
wanted to see what it is you do here,” Stanley informed
her.

Kylie took in his jeans and polo
shirt, noted that Olivia was similarly dressed. Shouldn't Stanley
be in a suit and at work?

“
Would you like a tour of
the greenhouses?”

Olivia's eyes lit up. “Yes!” She
turned to Stanley. “At least I would.”

“
It sounds educational.
Please, lead on.”

Leaving instructions with her crew,
Kylie took them into the third of a long row of greenhouses where
production was currently in full swing. This one held the fussier
plants like orchids and violets. Olivia was instantly
enthralled.

Strolling along a wide aisle, Kylie
asked the burning question. “What brings you two out here? I can
imagine Olivia wanting to see this, but you, sir?”

Stanley's smile was polite, even
humble. “I won't mince words. Our son has committed unspeakable
acts against innocent people.” He linked his fingers with Olivia's.
“In part I'm to blame. I was a terrible role model as a parent and
as a man. As a husband.” He swallowed, determined not to choke on
his words. “I want to ask for forgiveness. I misjudged you, badly.
I had no right to speak to you the way I did when you came to our
home. No matter what the outcome with Drew, we want you to know
that if you need anything, anything at all, we will do our best to
help.”

Kylie absorbed, smiled wistfully.
“Thank you.” She realized that Olivia looked clear eyed, her skin
no longer sallow. “You've stopped drinking,” she
blurted.

Olivia didn't skip a beat. “I have.
Stanley takes me to AA meetings. So far so good. He's taking a
sabbatical from work until this thing is over.”

Kylie reacted spontaneously as she
pulled Olivia into a fierce hug. “If you'll still have me, I want
to work here,” Olivia sputtered. “Stanley thinks it will be good
for me, don't you dear?”

He nodded.

“
Of course we want you. When
can you start?”

*

Frank Barrymore couldn't
move.

Hands and feet tied to the straight
back chair he'd been forced into, he glared angrily at his
captor.

The precious Siberians, Bonnie and
Clyde, were sequestered in a bathroom down the hall. They'd kept up
a constant clamor until Frank had been told to shut them up.
Thankfully they'd obeyed his command.

Drew Hammond sat perched on a chair
opposite. Frank knew who he was, what he'd done. Why this monster
was here.

His tone was soft and dangerous. “When
is your wife due home?”

“
She's not. She's on the
mainland. Won't be back for a week or so.”

Drew applauded. “Nice performance, but
I happen to know she was at her clinic this morning.” He extracted
a vile looking knife and toyed with its sharply honed blade. “Tell
me again, what time will she be here?”

Frank clamped his mouth shut and
regarded Drew with open hatred. He wasn't giving this clown
anything.

The knife flashed and a miniscule line
of blood beaded across Frank's cheek. Paper thin, the cut stung and
throbbed, and despite his bravado Frank's mind went wild with what
might come next.

“
Once more. What time,
Frankie boy? I don't have all night. Although the idea of spending
some real time with you nice folks this evening is
tempting.”

Panic laced his words. “She... she
doesn't keep regular hours.”

“
Really. Let's hope...” Drew
stopped as a car pulled into the driveway. He pulled back the
drape. “Oh look, she's here. Just in time.” Moving quickly, Drew
pulled a monogrammed handkerchief from his pocket and stuffed it
into Frank's mouth. “Excuse me just a moment, will you?” He
hurriedly left the room.

Frank worked his tongue furiously
trying to dislodge the cloth but it was wadded firmly into his
throat cavity, cutting off his air. Desperately he sucked in oxygen
through his nostrils and began to choke when very little made it
into his airway.

Pushed from behind, Dr. Lydia
Barrymore exploded into the room. It was their receiving room at
the front of the house, the same place Kylie had iced her cheek
while sipping tea and telling her sad story. The dogs barked and
whined agitatedly from the bathroom off the hallway.

Lydia pulled the cloth from Frank's
mouth just as he was turning purple. He gasped for air as she
whirled to confront their attacker.

“
Shut them up!” Drew yelled
over the din.

Lydia issued the command and the dogs
fell into anxious whimpering. Lydia's wizened face contorted into
defiant fear. “What do you want, Mr. Hammond?”

“
Good, you know who I am.”
He circled them with a penetrating manic gaze. “I want you to
educate me, Dr. Barrymore. Fill me in on some inside
information.”

“
Such as?”

“
Oh now, don't look at me
like that. I won't hurt you or fatso here. As long as you're
truthful. You're going to be just that, aren't you,
doctor?”

“
You want to know about
Kylie Lambert.”

He stopped circling. “Sit down,
doctor. Tell me all about her pregnancy. How's it
going?”

Weak kneed, Lydia sank onto the edge
of the sofa next to Frank's chair. Drew dropped down next to her,
his facial scars lurid. His fingers caressed the knife almost
reverently.

“
Go ahead,” he prompted
her.

Lydia had been informed by Detective
Crane that they were trying to keep the idea of the child alive for
as long as possible. Agreeing to going along with the charade in a
brightly lit office was one thing, having to pull it off in this
dire situation was quite another.

“
Now Dr. Barrymore, I can
see the wheels turning in your head,” said Drew, his tone
conversational. “You're trying to figure out how to tell me a lie,
aren't you? I can see it in your eyes. You're not a very good liar,
doctor. Maybe Frank needs to convince you to be
truthful.”

In an instant he was up and behind
Frank, the knife held in the fold of his ear. “What do you say,
doc? Shall we imitate art and pull a Van Gogh?”

“
No! Please, I'll tell you
whatever you want to know.” When he narrowed his eyes and pulled
Frank's ear further out, “The baby's doing fine! Please... don't
hurt him!”

Sweat poured in rivulets down Frank's
face as he held the breath he'd not gotten enough of moments
before. Anticipating pain, his eyes closed as he sent out a silent
prayer for help.

The knife eased off
slightly.

“
The baby's doing fine, you
say. But doctor, shouldn't she be showing by now?”

A fraction of hesitation as Lydia's
inward battle raged. Should she give up the ghost? Or risk her
husband's ear, possibly his life! The answer came swiftly: this man
had no scruples; enough blood had been shed.

Lydia let out a long, shaky breath.
“You're right Mr. Hammond, I'm not a good liar. She lost the baby.
When you punched her in the stomach, it caused the fetus to
dislodge.” Watching the light dim in his eyes, she couldn't help
but add, “I'm sorry.”

Nostrils flaring, Drew's demeanor shut
down as he withdrew into himself. Absently he yanked Frank's ear,
then let go, sheathing the knife.

He stood over Lydia. “I cannot abide
being lied to. Kylie lied to me, but you told the truth. Thank you,
Dr. Barrymore.”

When Drew turned away, Lydia exhaled,
and then just as quickly sucked in air when the knife came out and
in one almost graceful movement, the outer shell of Frank's ear was
neatly sliced off.

Frank let out a howl that was matched
by the Siberians in the hallway bathroom.

Drew held Frank's severed ear in his
hand, absently let it drop to the floor. “Frank lied to me too. I'm
giving you this gift, Dr. Barrymore, because he didn't really get
what a liar deserves.”

Frank slumped in his chair, blood
dripping, quiet sobs wracking his body.

“
I should have taken his
tongue. Remember that, for future reference.”

He left the room. When they heard the
back door close, Lydia, trembling all over, rose and retrieved a
pair of scissors from her desk to cut her husband loose.

*

“
Now he knows.”

Will clicked off his cell.

“
Knows what?” asked Lyle,
stirring the logs in the fireplace with a poker. Sparks flew up the
chimney and heat flared into the room. The evening had chilled with
seasonal gusto, marking the onset of what was predicted to be a
long, bone cold winter.

They'd pulled a pair of cozy oversized
armchairs in front of the fireplace. Outside the typical Victoria
rain drizzled down, making a night like this just what the doctor
ordered.

Only one doctor, thought Will morosely
as he pulled Kylie closer, would be spending her night in a
hospital making sure her husband got the best of care. While the
four of them sat here sipping hot chocolate laced with potent
whiskey, Frank Barrymore was undergoing cosmetic surgery to
reattach his outer ear, either graciously or unwittingly left
behind by an obsessive killer.

He narrated everything Crane had told
him. As he spoke he felt Kylie's body tense, watched her eyes fill
with renewed worry.

“
Maybe it's better this
way,” suggested Jolene. “He might even back off altogether now that
he knows the baby is out of the picture.”

“
He lopped off Frank
Barrymore's ear in retaliation for a lie,” murmured Kylie. “A lie,
I might add, that was intended to protect his wife. What do you
think Drew will want for my lie about still being pregnant? He
won't let this go.” She felt Will's arms tighten around her. “If
all he wanted was to kill me, he could have accomplished that a
dozen times already. He took me to that cabin because he wanted
time to act out his nasty little fantasy, whatever it may
be.”

“
He wants you to fret,” said
Will. “Wants you to feel just as messed up as he is. He's
systematically working on it.”

Lyle snorted. “He's on a fucking power
trip.”

Jolene saw that Kylie was fighting
tears. She scooted out of Lyle's embrace and grabbed Kylie's hand,
hauled her to her feet. “Let's fix another round.”

In the kitchen, Kylie let the
waterworks spill while Jolene stroked her back and handed her
tissues.

“
What the hell,” Kylie
mumbled, and poured herself a straight shot of whiskey and downed
it. She couldn't remember the last time she'd gotten drunk, but
tonight seemed as good a time as any.

The straight whiskey did its job.
False bravado intact, she grabbed two glasses and went back out to
face the men. “Watch out, Delaney,” she provoked. “Pardon the pun,
but tonight I'm jumping your bones all the way to kingdom
come!”

*

She awoke in the early dawn on a
scream, sitting straight up in bed. Terrifyingly real, in her
nightmare Drew had dissected her, slicing her open from naval to
pubis, extracting a slimy creature straight out of hell out of
which he took a massive bite.

Will held on to her, stroking her back
and murmuring incoherent words. Already the dream was fading as the
here and now with Will flooded in. Relief came in waves.

“
My head's pounding.” She
rubbed her temples in circular motions.

Will handed her a glass of water and
shook two pain killers into her palm. “Serves you right for trying
to out-drink Lyle. I had to sling you over my shoulder like a
caveman and carry you in here.” He nuzzled her shoulder. For
distraction's sake, “You never fulfilled your big announcement
either.”