White Elephant Dead (28 page)

They were passing the sand traps on the sixteenth green. The path curved deep into the shadows of tall pines. Max pointed through the pines at a two-story gabled building. “There’s the back of the Pierce property. I think that’s the garage. If they have a cart, that’s probably where they keep it.”

Their footsteps crunched on the oyster-shell walk as they left the cart path. The walk followed alongside the building, ended at the broad driveway. It was an old building, had probably originally served as a stables when the Tudor mansion was a country estate. Lights flooded the drive, spilled from the back of the huge house, hung in trees in the garden.

As they stepped into the blaze of lights on the drive, Annie checked the back of the house. Windows both upstairs and down glowed behind curtains. “I sure hope everybody’s still at the club.”

“It shouldn’t take long,” Max murmured. There were six overhead doors. He tugged at the first to no avail. “Damn. They’re electric.”

They hurried past the other overhead panels to a white wooden door at the end of the building. It was unlocked. Max turned a thumbs-up and opened it. He hesitated for only a moment, then found a light switch and turned it on. The long narrow space had probably once served as a tack room. Garden tools hung from pegs. A riding mower was at one end.

Annie moved swiftly to a door that led into the garage. She twisted the knob. The door opened and they stepped into the huge garage. Max found the lights. Two slots held a beige Mercedes and a black Jeep.

“Janet has a Porsche and it’s not here. But how do you suppose they got all their guests to the club?”

Max shrugged. “They probably hired a limo. Maybe Dave took most of them and some went with Janet.”

Annie gripped Max’s arm. “Look. At the far end.” Two
golf carts with jaunty red awnings were parked in the last slot.

Their shoes clipped on the cement as they hurried the length of the garage. Annie darted to the first cart, bent forward to study the front. But the front of this cart bore no scrapes or blemishes.

Max moved past her to the second cart. “Hey Annie, come here and—”

The fourth garage door rumbled as it slowly lifted and receded on its frame.

Annie’s eyes jerked toward the opening, then she moved swiftly to stand in front of the second cart. She looked at the right front end and felt a surge of triumph. A deep red gouge made an ugly streak on the right front of the cart. The vases at the corners of Jake Chapman’s wall were terra-cotta. Here was physical proof that no one could dispute. This cart was the force that knocked loose the vase and it was the damage to the vase that led Jake Chapman to make the call that ended his life.

Headlights beamed through the opening. Car doors slammed. Dave Pierce walked slowly into the garage, his measured pace perhaps even more threatening than the tight smoothness of his face and the glitter of his dark eyes. Janet Pierce followed, her face as white in the sharp lights as the silk sash around her slender waist.

A heavyset woman bustled importantly after them. “I know they’re dressed right, Mr. Pierce. But I’ve never seen them before and I didn’t think they should be messing around in the garage.”

“You were quite right to call for me, Martha.” Pierce didn’t glance toward her. His eyes never left Annie and Max. “I’ll take care of this. You may return to the house.”

“Maybe it would be better if she stayed.” Annie’s voice was thin but steady. There had already been three murders: Lynn Pierce, Kathryn Girard and Jake Chapman. Martha was an insurance policy Annie intended to cling to.

“First, you have the effrontery to break into my garage.
Now you want to direct my staff.” His cold voice was harsh. “At this point, Mrs. Darling, you and your husband owe me an apology. And it better be a good one or I’ll bring charges against both of you.”

“An apology?” Annie stepped forward, eyes blazing. “To a murderer? You might as well stop posturing. We have proof now.” She pointed at the second golf cart. “Ruth Yates is going to be set free and you are going to be arrested.”

Janet Pierce gasped. She stared at her husband, her eyes wide, her hand clutching the ruby necklace at her throat.

Dave Pierce’s dark brows drew into a tight line.

Max reached out, drew Annie back where he could step in front of her. “Annie’s right, Dave. You’re finished. That scrape on the golf cart will have particles of terra-cotta from Jake Chapman’s vase.”

Janet Pierce gave a low moan.

Dave Pierce didn’t even glance at her. “What the hell are you talking about?” Pierce’s eyes blazed.

“You planned it beautifully.” Annie felt her heart thud. Pierce was a dangerous man, a man who had almost gotten away with three murders. “Right from the start. But you planned Lynn’s murder well, too, stealing a boat, sailing out and meeting her. Did you push her off her sailboat? Or did you knock her out and dump her overboard to drown?”

Dave Pierce stepped back as if he’d been struck, his face utterly still and empty.

The garage was abruptly quiet, a quiet laden with fear and anger and pulsing fury.

Annie reached out, grabbed Max’s hand, but she talked even faster. “How did Kathryn Girard find out? Was it a good guess on her part because she had lots of experience in nosing out evil? Did she accuse you of Lynn’s murder and you gave yourself away? But you have plenty of money.” Annie’s tone was scathing. “I guess you got tired of paying blackmail. So you worked it out. You stole the croquet mallet from the Yateses and hid the golf cart at Marsh Tacky Road—”

Janet Pierce moved like an old woman, her body stiff and jerky, one step at a time, moving away from her husband.

“—and when Kathryn came by the house, you killed her and put her in the back of the van. Everything went just as planned until Henny spotted the van and started following you. Did she honk to get your attention? Or did she spot the van turning into Marsh Tacky Road? That’s when everything fell apart. There you were, trapped on Marsh Tacky Road, Henny walking up the road, Kathryn’s body in the van. You tried to knock Henny out and missed. When she ran, you took the van keys and got the cart and started for home. And when you went around Chapman’s wall, the cart skidded and knocked over the vase. And then you—”

Pierce’s shoulders slumped. “My wife.” The words were a deep, terrible whisper. “My wife.” Pain scalded his face, grievous, unrelenting, unquenchable pain.

Annie stared at Dave Pierce. Abruptly, she understood.

Janet Pierce lifted her hands. In appeal? In defense? Slowly they fell.

Dave’s eyes glittered with horror as he turned toward Janet.

Janet took a step back.

“Dave…” Her voice was unrecognizable, her face a harsh mask of despair. “Dave, I did it all for you. Dave, I love you. I’ve always loved you. I’ve done everything for you. It was an accident with Lynn. I swear that it was an accident.” Janet sobbed. “An accident. But that woman, she accused me and then she said she’d tell you. I had to steal to keep her quiet.” She shuddered. “She wanted so much money, more than I could ever get. And I couldn’t ask you, not for that much money. So I had to steal the jewels. Each time she promised it would be the last, and then she’d smile that horrible cat smile and say she’d taken a fancy to another piece and she knew it would be easy for me. She called on Tuesday and said I had to get the Aztec gold necklace. She made me give her a signed note that I was going to steal
the necklace. She promised she’d give the note back to me if I brought the necklace Saturday morning. I was so afraid. Dave, I did it for you. Dave, oh God, Dave.”

Dave Pierce trembled, all of him, his entire body. “You sailed after Lynn. Did you fall overboard, cry for help? Lynn would have hurried to help you. And then you—” Anger burned in his stricken eyes, fierce and unrelenting.

“It happened so quickly.” Janet pressed her hands hard against her ashen cheeks. “And then it was too late.”

“My wife.” Dave Pierce buried his face in his hands.

He was not calling to Janet.