His life had been claustrophobic. He stole money from the church safe—just a little here and there on Sundays. After he graduated from high school, he packed up his bag, a grocery sack actually, and left the farm. He went to college in Omaha. He had enough saved to pay for the first semester and received government loans to pay the rest of the tuition, loans he never intended to repay. Four years later, he left the state of Nebraska, vowing never to return.
To this day, he didn’t know if his parents were dead or alive, and he didn’t particularly care.
He’d never really cared about anyone—until now.
He told Jilly everything about himself. He told her he had committed his first murder at the ripe old age of twenty-two. He also told her he had once had dreams of working in the theater. He loved getting into costume and taking on different roles. And he was a good actor, he boasted, so good that he tried out for a major part in a summer stock play. Another actor mocked his performance and humiliated him in front of the director. Monk became so rattled by the heckling that he made a mess of his audition and, of course, didn’t get the part. Vowing to get even, he bided his time, and two years later he went after the boy. He’d used his knife that time and had found the experience both exciting and liberating.
“When did you change your name?” she asked.
“The day I enrolled in college,” he said. “I had a fake birth certificate, and I managed to make it look real enough to fool the administrator’s office. It was really quite crude, but it got the job done.”
“I didn’t get to go to college,” she told him. “I wanted to, but my mother didn’t think I was smart enough. She took the money I’d saved and used it to pay for Carrie’s education.”
“What was your life like growing up?”
Jilly’s eyes welled up with tears. “Loveless,” she said. “I don’t remember my father. He left when I was little. It was because of her.”
“Your mother?”
“Yes,” she said. “She drove him away. He ran off with another woman, but looking back, I can’t blame him. Mama was a cold and bitter woman. She never showed me any affection, and I think that’s why I got into trouble . . . you know . . . got pregnant. I was looking for someone to love me. I shamed the family. I can’t tell you the number of times my sister and mother shouted those very words at me.” She shook her head and then whispered, “I was such an innocent fool. I was so sure that, once I had the baby, my mother and my sister, the golden girl, would forgive me and help me raise her. I wanted to do the right thing by my child.”
“But that didn’t happen, did it?”
She gripped his hand. “No, it didn’t. It was so awful. Mama and Carrie came to the hospital. I thought they were going to take me and my daughter home.”
“What happened, my love?” he asked when she was too overcome to continue. He leaned forward to pour more champagne into her glass.
“Carrie left the hospital room with my daughter. She never said a word to me. She just went to the bassinet, picked her up, and left. Mama grabbed my arm when I tried to go after my sister. I asked her where Carrie was going with my beautiful baby, and she said that she was taking little Avery home. ‘Avery.’ That’s the stupid name my mama came up with for my daughter.” She wiped the tears away from her face with her fingertips. “They wouldn’t even let me name my own child. Carrie was making all the decisions, telling Mama what she ought to do, and Mama went along with whatever her golden girl decreed.”
“And then what happened?”
“Mama told me I had to leave town and that I could never come home again. She said I had humiliated her and Carrie for the last time. I couldn’t get through to her, and even though I begged her to forgive me, she wouldn’t. I can still see that ugly, pinched look on her face. It was just like Carrie’s. She called me terrible names, and then she opened her pocketbook and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. She threw it in my face and walked out of the room.”
“Wasn’t there anyone who would help you?”
She shook her head. “Mama was real tight with the chief of police. She had him wound around her little finger. He used to drop by late every other night when Carrie and I were supposed to be sleeping, but one night I heard all this groaning and grunting going on, and I snuck down to see what was happening. I peeked in the living room, and there was the chief sprawled out as pretty as you please on our sofa with his pants down around his ankles. Mama was kneeling between his legs, servicing him. The fat pig was a married man,” she added. “And he’d do anything to keep Mama from telling his wife about their sordid affair. Mama told me that the chief would lock me up in jail if I didn’t leave town right away. I knew she had the power to make him do it.”
She was sobbing uncontrollably now. He put his arm around her and held her close until she was able to calm down. Then he asked, “What happened to your daughter?”
“Carrie raised her and brainwashed her against me. My sister has always hated me. She wasn’t . . . pretty the way I was, and she was eaten up with jealousy. Stealing my baby was her way of getting even with me, I suppose.”
“How did you meet Dale Skarrett?” he asked.
“After I left Sheldon Beach, I worked odd jobs to support myself. I was trying to save up enough money to hire a lawyer and get my baby back. I didn’t have any training to do much of anything, so I worked in bars and restaurants. I stole money a couple of times to help pay the rent, and I slept with men too. Twelve in all,” she admitted. “I kept count . . . I don’t know why, but I did, and I took every precaution so I wouldn’t get any disgusting diseases. I hated doing it, but I needed the money. I was so desperate to get my daughter back.” She turned away as she recalled the anguish. “Then, one night when I was working at a flea-infested bar down in Savannah, I met Dale Skarrett. God, he disgusted me,” she said. “But he had money. He made sure I saw the wad of bills, and he wanted me. We lived together off and on for what seemed an eternity. I tried to move on with my life, but he kept coming back. And then one night he told me about this jewelry store he and his buddies, Frank and Larry, were going to rob. Larry was shacking up with the daughter of the owner of the store, and she liked to talk about her family’s money. Dale pretty much planned the robbery, but I helped with all the details.”
“So you were an accomplice.”
“Yes,” she said. “The robbery went off without a hitch, but Frank had a big mouth, and he started talking about all the money he was going to get when Dale sold the diamonds. Dale had hid the uncut stones, and we had all agreed to wait at least six months before fencing them.”
“But things went wrong, didn’t they?”
“Oh, yes. An informant told the police about Frank’s bragging. They picked him up for questioning, and he ended up making a deal with them. He gave them Larry’s name, but he didn’t give them Dale’s or my name until later. He was holding out for a better deal, I guess. Larry called us and warned us in time, and we were able to get out of town. Larry didn’t make it, though. There was a shootout, and Larry killed a policeman before he was killed.”
Jilly started crying again. “I didn’t care about the diamonds. Dale promised me that he’d help me get my daughter back. That was going to be my cut for helping him with the robbery. We drove back to Sheldon Beach, and he went to Mama’s house to get Avery. I didn’t look at it as kidnapping. I was simply taking back what my sister had stolen from me. I didn’t know Carrie had made Mama go to court to have Carrie named Avery’s legal guardian. The court took away all my rights as a mother and gave them to my sister. She stole my baby from me, Monk. She stole her . . .”
“I know your heart’s breaking, my love.”
“Avery was just a little girl when Dale went to get her, but Carrie had already turned her against me. Dale told me he tried to calm Avery down by telling her how much I loved her and that she would be happy with me. Avery became hysterical. God only knows what horrid lies Carrie had told her. She fought him like a tigress, kicking and try
ing to scratch his eyes out. He said he took off his belt to tie her hands together and that he gave her a couple of swats to get her to stop her tantrum.”
Monk handed her another Kleenex so she could wipe her tears away. “Go on. You’ll feel better after you get all that poison out.”
She nodded. “Yes, you’re right. Avery’s screams woke Mama. She came running out with a gun in her hand. The chief of police had given it to her for protection. She tried to kill Dale. He told me he was backing away with Avery when she fired the gun. She shot my daughter by mistake.” She shuddered. “Dale didn’t tell me about that for a long time, so I didn’t go to the hospital to see her.”
“What happened with your mother?”
“When she saw what she had done, Dale said she screamed, then suddenly clutched her chest and fell down. She was dead before she hit the floor . . . according to Dale.”
“Heart attack?”
“Yes, but I didn’t cry about her dying. She had turned against me, and I pretty much did the same to her. I didn’t shed a single tear,” she said proudly.
“I understand.”
“Dale tried to keep his promise to me. He followed Avery when she went to live with my sister in California. He watched her school, thinking he could grab her when she came outside. She had a bodyguard, though, an FBI agent looking out for her. Carrie obviously convinced them that Dale would come after Avery. My sister is very clever,” she added with a sneer. “She must have alerted the principal because he told the security guards that Dale was dangerous. There was always someone watching her. Dale tried to grab her as she was crossing the campus, but the FBI agent spotted him and tackled him to the ground. Dale wasn’t armed,” she added. “He was arrested and sent back to Florida to stand trial for my mother’s death.”
“And he was convicted.”
“Yes. The autopsy report proved Mama had a heart attack, but the jury still believed Dale was responsible.”
“And you don’t?”
“I really don’t care if he was responsible or not, but Mama did have a bad heart. I have something to confess now, darling. Please don’t be angry. Let me explain before you react.”
“I could never become angry with you. I promise,” he said.
“Do you remember the money you gave me to pay off all my debts?”
“The thirty thousand?”
“Yes,” she whispered. Her hand slid under his robe, and she began to caress his chest. “I gave most of the money to an attorney as a retainer.”
“Why?” he asked. “Why did you need an attorney?”
“I hired him to help Dale. I want to get him out of prison, and now it looks like that might happen. When the attorney was going through the boxes of evidence, he found a bill from a cardiologist in Savannah. He went to see him,” she continued. “And the doctor told him my mother’s condition was fatal. More important, he said that he had come forward and told the prosecutor that he had treated Mama, but the prosecutors withheld that information from the public defender who had been assigned to represent Dale.”
Monk was suddenly feeling insecure and angry, but he contained his emotions.
“Go on,” he said.
“The attorney I hired did it,” she said. “Dale’s getting a new trial, and it’s going to be soon. The judge was outraged when he heard that the prosecutor had suppressed evidence to help him win. It seems there’s bad blood between the two men, and this was the last straw. Dale’s attorney told me another case was postponed, and the judge gave Dale that opening. Carrie and Avery can’t testify. Dale will stay in prison if they do.”
“What about the parole hearing? Is that still scheduled?”
“Yes, but the trial should be over by then. If Dale doesn’t get out of prison, I’ll never get those diamonds. After all I’ve been through, I think I deserve them. Of course, whatever I get belongs to you too. Am I being too greedy?”
“No, I don’t think so,” he said. “But you must be honest with me now. Do you have feelings for Dale?”
“Oh, God, no,” she cried. “I’ve always hated him, and I know how I can prove it to you.”
“How?” he asked, intrigued by the sly smile of hers he found so titillating.
“As soon as Dale leads us to the diamonds, I’ll let you watch me kill him.”
All of his insecurities faded with that promise. She kissed him then and whispered, “I love you with all my heart. I would die rather than hurt you. Killing Dale will prove my love, but I want proof from you as well.”
“What can I do?” he asked. He wasn’t a man given to poetry, but he tried to be romantic as he vowed, “If you wish me to walk on water, I swear I’ll find a way to do it. I’ll do anything for you, dearest Jilly. Anything at all.”
She snuggled up against him. “My sister and Avery both spoke at the last parole hearing,” she said. “They’re the reason he didn’t get out then.”
“And you want me to find a way to keep your sister and your daughter away from the trial and the parole hearing this time? Is that what you want?”
“Darling, I don’t want you to just keep them away. I want you to make it impossible for them to testify. I want you to kill them.”
Chapter 7
CARRIE WOKE UP IN A COLD SWEAT. THE NIGHTMARE HAD consumed her, terrified her. Trembling like a child, she wrapped herself in the down comforter and tried to calm her racing heartbeat. She felt as if she were having a heart attack. She put her hand to her chest and took a couple of deep breaths. The nightmare had been so real. My God, what had brought that on? She hadn’t thought about Jilly in years. Why was her sister suddenly tormenting her sleep again?
Maybe she was just overly tired. Yes, that was it, she thought, latching onto the possibility. It made sense, didn’t it? She had been working seventy-, eighty-hour weeks for the past two months, firming up and then nailing the incredibly lucrative Bliss account. The contracts were all signed and delivered, and now that she could finally slow the pace, her overloaded brain had simply had a minor meltdown.
Rolling onto her back, she closed her eyes against the piercing sunlight streaming in between the partially opened drapes and tried to remember some of the yoga exercises Avery had taught her. Take deep, cleansing breaths. She remembered that much. Clear the mind and concentrate on relaxing every muscle of the body. Okay, it was coming back to her. First the toes. Then the legs. That’s it, she thought. Now relax, damn it.
It wasn’t working. Anxiety, like the boogeyman hiding in the closet, was still lurking, waiting to pounce.
For heaven’s sake, it was just a nightmare. Vivid as hell, but still not real, so stop freaking out.
Carrie wished Valium were still in vogue. She would have taken a couple to soothe her nerves. Then she realized she was calming down. Her heart no longer felt as though it were trying to leap out of her chest like one of those creatures in Alien.
What she needed was a good long shower. Carrie threw the covers off and sat up. What time was it? Did the sun come up brighter here in the mountains than in L.A.? Of course it did, because there wasn’t any smog.
Coffee, she thought. I’ll ring for coffee. The caffeine will clear the fog in my head, and I’ll be able to start thinking like a human being again.
Carrie was swinging her legs over the side of the bed when she saw them. There, pointed toward her on the nightstand, was a pair of shiny steel-bladed scissors. She froze, the scream lodged in her throat. She couldn’t make herself look away, couldn’t make the scissors disappear.
Her heart was slamming against her rib cage again. Could a person die of fright? Was this some kind of a sick joke? No. Whoever had put the scissors there couldn’t possibly know about her nightmare. Think, damn it. Try to think.
Were they real? Carrie tentatively reached out to touch them, thinking she was having some kind of hallucination. When her fingers touched the hard, cold steel handle, she whimpered. Son of a bitch, they were real.
There had to be a reasonable explanation.
Maybe the scissors had been there on the nightstand the night before, and while she hadn’t consciously noticed, her subconscious had picked up on them. The possibility sounded desperate, but she clung to it. Then she spotted the yellow, invitation-sized envelope with her name handwritten in beautiful script propped up against the lamp. She was positive it hadn’t been there the night before. Her hand trembled as she picked it up and opened it. The stationery was expensive, but there wasn’t a Utopia seal or logo printed on it, or a return address.
“What the hell is going on?” she whispered. And then she pulled the two sheets out, unfolded them, and read the note.
Carrie:
Did you mourn me when you heard I died in that car crash so many years ago? Or did you celebrate? You always believed you were so superior. I was just a stupid girl. Do you remember how you called me that? I’ve never forgotten. Your biggest problem was that you always underestimated me. Always. Surely you recall how I so loved to get even. That glorious day has finally arrived, and now you’re right where I want you to be.
The house is wired, Carrie, and there isn’t any way out. If you open a window or an outside door . . . boom. A simple push of a button and the house will disintegrate. Do you wonder how long I’ll wait?
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