Vows of Silence (20 page)

“If you were lovers, why did you kill him?”

Renae’s full attention, including the weapon in her hand, swung toward Lacy. “How dare you ask me that?”

“What about Cassidy and Kira?” Melinda demanded. “Why did you kill our friends?”

“Because you all deserve to die for what you’ve done,” she snarled. “And now that I have my ring back, I won’t have to worry about it turning up afterward. That little mistake has haunted me for ten years.”

“You won’t have to worry about it turning up after what?” Lacy ventured, her fingers tightening around the wooden handle. She had a pretty good idea what Renae meant.

“After you’re dead.”

Fight or flight zoomed through Lacy. She had to do something or this crazy woman was going to kill them.

“Why would Charles want you?” Melinda countered. “He had all the young, beautiful girls he wanted.”

Lacy held her breath and hoped Melinda hadn’t just sealed her fate.

Renae glared at her but kept the gun trained on Lacy. “Fool. We were in love. I was prepared to leave Wes. We had it all planned out. Then he learned you were pregnant and the senator threatened to disinherit him if he didn’t marry you.”

“If that’s true,” Lacy offered, easing a half step closer to Renae, “then why all the other women?”

She lifted her chin defiantly. “Charles had a voracious sexual appetite. No one woman could have expected to be enough. But he loved
me.
” She sent a menacing glare in Melinda’s direction. “We made love and I begged him to run away with me. I’d even bought him a wedding band to prove I meant what I said. I had it engraved.
Love, Renae.
But he only laughed at me. I swore I’d never let him hurt me again.”

Renae appeared to get lost in her memories for a moment and Lacy took advantage of what might be their only chance. She swung the shovel at Renae and screamed, “Run, Mel!”

Rick arrived at the Jackson home as quickly as he could. He’d been stuck in a briefing with ABI. And then Nigel Canton’s body had been found, along with a confession typed and left for all to see on his computer screen. He’d admitted to killing Charles Ashland, Junior, and then trying to frame Lacy and her friends.

Everyone, including the mayor and the senator, were relieved to learn the truth. But Rick had a bad feeling about the whole setup,
setup
being the key word. He would reserve judgment until the forensic folks were finished with their work, but this was way too pat for his comfort.

The deputy watching Melinda and Lacy had informed Rick when the two went to the Jackson home. He’d figured that was okay considering, but the longer he thought about it, the more uneasy he’d gotten with the idea. He needed to see for himself that Lacy was safe.

As soon as he arrived at the Jackson home, trouble met him at the street. Deputy Phillips was busy filling out a report on a stolen vehicle.

“I’ve already put out an APB, Chief.” He shook his head. “It’s ridiculous when a person can’t even visit a grieving family without having their car stolen.”

“Are Mrs. Ashland and Miss Oliver still inside?”

Phillips nodded. “Yes, sir.” He pointed toward Melinda’s car. “I haven’t taken my eyes off that vehicle.”

Apparently not, Rick mused, if another was stolen right under his nose. But then who would have expected a thief to waltz up to a wake and drive off in a car.

“I’m going in for a minute,” he told his deputy.

Not looking forward to the somberness inside, he made his way up the walk and across the porch. Kira’s folks were devastated, just as Cassidy’s had been. It was a damned shame.

Mrs. Jackson’s sister welcomed him and asked if he’d like something to drink.

“No thanks, ma’am. I just need to touch base with Lacy Oliver.”

The woman frowned thoughtfully. “Kira’s friend?”

Rick nodded.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen her tonight.” She called out to another of the visiting family members. “Have you seen Lacy Oliver tonight?”

Dread pooled in Rick’s gut.

The other woman shook her head. “But Melinda was here for a little while. She left about an hour ago.”

Rick was out the door and at the street in three seconds flat. “How long ago did you call in that stolen vehicle?”

“We got it, Chief,” Phillips said. “County just found it over on one-nineteen parked at the old Oliver place.”

Terror seized Rick’s insides. “You tell County to stay put. I may need them. I’m on my way.”

“Yes, sir.”

Phillips sounded confused, but Rick knew he would follow orders.

“Dammit, Lacy,” he growled as he slid into his truck. “What the hell are you up to?”

The best he recalled, no one lived at the old Oliver home place. It had been empty for more than a dozen years.

As soon as he’d cleared the last intersection in town he floored the accelerator. Ten more minutes. That was all he needed.

His phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket. “Summers.”

“Chief.”

Phillips.

“County just reported gunfire in the woods behind the Oliver place. They’re ready to go in.”

“Tell ’em to approach with caution. There may be two victims being held against their will out there.”

He threw the phone aside and focused on driving. He had to get there before it was too late.

Lacy ran through the brush, zigzagging through the trees as fast as she could.

Melinda had run in the other direction.

Lacy stilled and listened over the sound of her own breath sawing in and out of her lungs. She needed to make sure Renae followed her, not Melinda. Melinda had kids…she had to survive this.

Nothing. Silence.

Damn.

She had to do something.

“What’s wrong, Renae?” she shouted. “Can’t keep up?”

The sound of brush being parted grew louder.

A bullet whizzed past Lacy’s head, took a chunk of bark off a tree less than a foot away.

She lunged deeper into the woods.

At least now she knew Renae was after her and not Melinda.

Lacy braced herself for the downward plunge as the landscape swept into a meadow. Her right foot twisted on a tree root and she went down in a flailing, rolling tumble. A tree trunk stopped her and pinned her right arm between the bark and her body. Pain seared upward from her elbow to her shoulder. Lacy bit down on her lower lip to hold back the scream of agony.

The sound of running in the distance behind her had her scrambling to her feet. Fire raced up her arm. Broken, she decided.

Didn’t matter. She had to keep going.

Holding the injured arm close to her body, she ran harder, faster, and didn’t look back, didn’t slow for anything. Limbs slapped her face, but she didn’t care. A few scratches and bruises, even a break, was better than being dead.

She stumbled again and swallowed the cry that rocketed into her throat. She got to her feet and looked around to get her bearings. Fear snaked through her chest.

Wait. This wasn’t right. But she’d been through these woods a thousand times.

The sound of foliage brushing fabric pricked her senses. Renae was close. Lacy didn’t have time to think anymore, she had to run.

She lunged forward, thankful for a second wind and a renewed burst of speed.

She was suddenly in the field. Rows of knee-high corn spread out around her, taunting her in the moonlight.

No more cover. She needed to be back in the woods. How had she made such an error in…

Renae emerged from the tree line. Lacy ran. She had no choice.

The full, low-lying moon she’d admired tonight was now her enemy, tracking her movements like a spotlight.

She ran anyway, her legs heavy and cumbersome like wooden clubs. Pain radiated up her arm. Her lungs burned for more air. She’d never make it to the other side of the field.

Something hit her in the back. She fell forward. Landed on her knees. At first she thought she’d been shot, but Renae had only pushed her down.

She pressed the barrel against the top of Lacy’s head. “Three down and one to go.”

“Why?” Lacy croaked, her throat so dry. Her heart flailed against her sternum, but she needed to know why. “Why…after all this time?”

Renae jammed the tip of the weapon even harder into her scalp. “For ten long years you let me believe he’d left me. I was certain he’d run off with that little whore Pamela. I hated him for what he’d done to me. But then, when they found his body, I knew. He would never have left me…never. The four of you had taken him from me. Now it’s time to pay for what you did.”

Lacy squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation of the blast.

The explosion rent the air.

She opened her eyes…wondered if she was dead but was afraid to move.

The sound of footfalls rushing toward her jerked Lacy around.

Renae lay on the ground behind her…a good portion of her skull missing. Lacy cringed.

“You okay?”

Rick was suddenly at her side.

She wasn’t dead…she was safe.

“Melinda?”

“Melinda’s fine. She’s back at the house.”

Lacy was alive. Melinda was alive.

“You’re safe now, Lacy.” Rick helped her to her feet, careful of her injured arm. “It’s over now.”

It was over.

Chapter 19

L
acy slept for the better part of two days.

She hadn’t realized just how exhausted she was until she fell into bed.

When she’d finally joined the living again, she’d talked to Melinda. Her kids were both home with her and she was finally completely happy.

Lacy’s folks had made it home. Thank God.

Kira’s funeral had been extremely emotional.

Lacy missed her and Cassidy desperately.

She’d taken a couple more weeks off work. With her broken arm and all that she’d been through, going back any sooner was out of the question. Her parents were taking care of her as if she were twelve again. It felt good having someone take care of her.

The whole town had pretty much gotten back to normal. The news had run constant coverage of the final outcome of the Ashland tragedy for almost a week now.

No one, least of all Gloria Ashland, had suspected the relationship between Renae and Charles. She was, from Melinda’s reports, at least attempting to be kind to Melinda. It was a miracle anything made the woman feel guilty. After all Melinda wasn’t the one who killed her son or disposed of his body. She’d been as much a victim in this as Charles had. Maybe more.

But everyone appeared to be satisfied that the truth had been uncovered and it was really over.

Everyone except Lacy.

She’d heard what Renae said in those final moments before Rick had put a bullet through her head.

The four of you had taken him from me.

For ten long years you let me believe he’d left me. I was certain he’d run off with that little whore Pamela.

Renae had said those things. Lacy hadn’t imagined a word of it.

She’d told Rick, but he’d chalked it up to shock. She had been shocked, that was true. She’d run for her life, and her arm had been broken. But there hadn’t been anything wrong with her hearing.

Renae couldn’t have killed Charles.

And if she had, who had killed Pamela? Charles? What happened to the money? Did Bent Thompson take it?

He was dead, Lacy had learned and so was Nigel Canton.

If she believed what everyone else did, Renae had been one busy lady. She’d killed Cassidy, Kira, Bent and Nigel.

It wasn’t an impossible feat, just unlikely in Lacy’s opinion. And why kill Nigel? Had he learned of Renae’s relationship with Charles? She had a feeling Rick wasn’t convinced with the scenario either.

Putting everything else aside, none of it explained what had happened to the hundred thousand.

She’d mulled over that detail until her head hurt.

Lacy got up and walked over to stare out the kitchen window. The stars were in full form tonight. Her world felt secure again…for the most part.

She braced her hands on the counter and reasoned out the conflicting thoughts preventing her from moving on.

As much as she wanted this all to be over, something wasn’t right. She definitely didn’t want to disrupt Melinda’s life again.

So what did she do? Forget what Renae had said to her?

It seemed like the simplest thing to do.

But part of her would always wonder.

Renae had admitted killing Cassidy and Kira. When she’d held the gun to Lacy’s head, she’d said something like, three down one to go. But Lacy was very nearly certain she hadn’t killed Charles…or Bent Thompson…or Nigel Canton.

And what was the deal with Canton’s confession? Clearly that had been a setup.

That part didn’t tie in neatly, either. Even if Renae had killed him and typed the confession, she had to know it wouldn’t cover Lacy’s and Melinda’s murders.

It was as if two different people had been at work in this killing spree.

And then there was the money.

Lacy knew she was obsessing about that aspect of the case, but she couldn’t help herself.

She had to talk to Rick about this. She’d kind of avoided him lately…or maybe he’d avoided her. Either way they hadn’t seen much of each other in the past few days.

If there was any chance someone else out there was involved, she wanted Rick to look into it.

Surely that wasn’t too much to ask.

Then again, she supposed she should be grateful that the D.A. had decided not to press charges against her and Melinda for obstruction of justice and concealing evidence. A damn good attorney was all that had stood between them and probation.

Then again, that was probably as much Rick’s doing as Melinda’s fancy attorney.

Maybe Lacy should stop by and thank him.

Lacy hadn’t driven since that night. Now was as good a time as any to get back in the swing of things. Her folks were out for the evening.

She didn’t bother calling, just drove to his house. As she pulled into the driveway she considered that maybe she should have called. For all she knew he could have company.

She didn’t care. This wasn’t a social call.

Holding her head high, she strode up the walk and knocked on the door. It wasn’t until he answered that she considered how she looked. Her hair was in a ponytail and her jeans and T-shirt were far from appropriate social attire. But it was too late now.

“Lacy.” He opened the door wider. “Is everything all right?”

“I need to talk to you.”

He stepped back to allow her in then closed the door behind her.

“Would you like something to drink?”

She shook her head. “I want to discuss some details about the case that just don’t make sense to me.”

“Lacy.” He held up both hands in a whoa gesture. “The ABI and my office are still evaluating this case. I can’t talk about it with you or anyone outside that investigation right now.”

“Then don’t. I’ll talk. What if someone who wanted to protect the senator killed Charles?”

Lacy might have been mistaken, but she thought for sure she saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

“Why would you say that?”

“Think about it,” she suggested. “Charles and Pamela disappear at practically the same time. Just before a possible scandal breaks out. Remember, Pamela is pregnant. The volcano on Charles’s extracurricular activity may have been about to blow. But someone stopped it. They took the money Charles had withdrawn, for whatever reasons, and hid it away.”

Rick listened without saying a word.

“Then, seven years later, the senator receives an anonymous donation to his reelection efforts. A six-figure donation. Wes Rossman was his campaign manager. Doesn’t that strike you as coincidental?”

Rick took her left hand in his. “Lacy, I know this is eating at you, but I can’t discuss it with you or anyone else. You have to trust me that we’re doing all we can to tie up the loose ends.”

She shook her head, uncertain whether or not he actually believed her. “Renae didn’t kill Charles, Rick. She killed Cassidy and Kira, she said as much. But she didn’t kill the others. I’m certain of it.”

Rick considered her speculatively. “Do you have someone in mind as a suspect?”

Was he mocking her? Too flustered to care, she answered frankly. “Why not Wes Rossman? He’s very close to the senator. Isn’t there talk that he might be in line for something big if the senator makes it to the White House?”

“Why not Canton?” Rick countered. “He confessed.”

“As far as I’m concerned,” Lacy argued, “Renae’s participation rules out Canton.”

“I don’t know if Renae rules him out, but you’re right. It definitely wasn’t Canton. His wife broke down and explained the situation between her and Charles. There was an affair. Nigel Canton got her out of the hot seat when her personal assistant attempted to blackmail her about the affair. He paid off the assistant and started paying more attention to his wife. Nothing more.”

“What about Bent Thompson?” Lacy prompted. For a guy who couldn’t talk about the investigation, he was on a roll.

“We still don’t know Bent’s role in all this.”

Lacy thought about that for a moment. “He could have taken the money…but why turn around and donate it to the senator’s campaign?”

“We don’t know that the donation had anything to do with the missing money.”

That was true.

“That’s about all I can tell you, Lace.”

She tried not to be affected by the way he said her name. She’d been pretending that he hadn’t made love to her again and that she hadn’t thoroughly enjoyed it. He appeared not to have any leftover feelings where that night was concerned. Why should she?

“Thanks for…hearing me out.”

“You don’t have to rush off, do you?”

Her pulse tripped. Was that an invitation to stay for more than conversation?

“I…well, not really.”

“I could order a pizza. We could catch a movie and just relax.”

As wonderful as that sounded, she was pretty sure where it would lead. This whole standoff thing that had been happening between them had her second-guessing herself to the max. What if he hadn’t felt the way she had as they made love? She’d thought that he was as affected as she was, but she couldn’t be sure.

He hadn’t made any overtures along those lines.

Even now, he had only invited her to eat and watch a movie.

Two different worlds, she reminded herself.

He had his life here, she had hers back in Atlanta.

Her career.

No love life to speak of, not even a real home. Just an apartment and a twelve-hour-a-day work schedule.

Was she feeling sorry for herself now?

She should just go home and take some time to think this through. Spend some more quality time with her folks.

“I should go.” She gestured to the door. “My folks will be home soon and they won’t know where I got off to since I didn’t leave a note. They worry about me after all that’s happened.”

Rick nodded. “I understand.”

He followed her to the door. Said good-night without even touching her then closed the door.

Great.

Well, at least that answered one question for her.

But there was still the nagging detail of who had actually killed Charles.

She couldn’t just walk away from this.

Rick picked up the telephone and put in a call to Agent Fowler. It wasn’t that late, but the man could be at church. It was Wednesday night after all. Still, Rick needed to check in with him. It was clear that Lacy was getting anxious. He couldn’t risk her doing anything foolish again. And he damned sure couldn’t risk damaging the final stage of this investigation. They were too close.

When Fowler himself answered the phone, Rick said, “This is Summers. We may have a problem.”