The Outcast tp-3

by Beverly Barton

  "In Gary's office," Christina said, glancing at Elizabeth for approval.'' She... Elizabeth had a vision recently. A vision about Daddy's murder."

  "What?" The cup in Alice Stanton's trembling hand quivered.

  Murmurs rose around the room. Kenny set his cup on a nearby table. Tracy sat up straight, her eyes widening, her face turning pale. Seated beside Alice on the sofa, Willard Moran placed his arm around her shoulders.

  Overwhelmed by the whirlwind of emotions Christina's revelation had stirred up, Elizabeth gripped the arm of her Queen Anne chair and very slowly set her cup on the marble-topped mahogany coffee table. She tried desperately to sort through the myriad feelings coming from the people in the room, but the strength of their emotions collided, creating chaos in Elizabeth's mind.

  Standing beside Elizabeth's chair, Christina glanced down, then leaned over and whispered, "Are you all right?"

  "I can't separate their emotions. Their energies are mingled together." Elizabeth breathed deeply, willing herself under control. The bombardment began to ebb as she shielded herself.

  "What sort of vision did you have about Daddy's death?" Kenny, short and squarely built like his mother, stood behind the sofa, stroking the fine brocade cloth with the tips of his perfectly manicured fingernails.

  "I won't have this sacrilege in my house." Alice Stanton, her sagging, hound-dog cheeks flushing profusely, straightened her spine and shrugged off Willard Moran's comforting arm. "This psychic business is evil and I'll have none of it."

  "Calm down, Alice." Tracy laughed, obviously amused at her mother-in-law's discomfort. "You're overreacting a bit, don't you think? After all, we know what happened to B.K. What could this woman-" Tracy glanced over at Elizabeth, a smug smile on her face "-possibly tell us that we don't already know?"

  "Tracy's right, my dear." Grasping Alice's hand, Willard patted her tenderly. "We all know that Reece Landry killed poor B.K."

  "I don't want that man's name mentioned." Jerking her hand out of Willard's, Alice entwined her fingers in a prayerlike gesture. "He's caused this family more than enough grief. And now he's running around free, possibly still in Newell."

  "Don't fret so, Mother. The authorities will apprehend him, and he'll spend the rest of his life rotting in Arrendale." Kenny clutched the back of the sofa, his fingers biting into the cushion.

  "Reece Landry didn't kill B. K. Stanton." Elizabeth saw, heard and felt an immediate reaction. Disbelief and fear dominated the room. Elizabeth tried to zero in on the fear. She felt it strongly, emanating from the area around the sofa where Alice Stanton sat beside Willard Moran, and Kenny stood behind them.

  "Of course he did," Willard said. "Alice and I walked in on him only moments after he'd shot B.K. We discovered him kneeling over B.K.'s body. His hands were covered with blood."

  Very slowly, as if she were in a trance, Elizabeth stood, her eyes slightly glazed as she stared across the room at the fireplace. "B. K. Stanton was shot twice while he was standing behind his desk in his study. I can't see the murderer, but I can see Reece Landry rushing into the room, after the shots were fired. I can see him being struck over the head and falling to his knees."

  "Those are the lies he told in court!" Kenny shouted. "The man's a conniving, money-hungry bastard! He hated Daddy. He hates this whole family."

  Elizabeth felt Kenny's hatred-intense, all-consuming, bitter, resentful. She also felt his fear. A little boy's fear that his father didn't love him, didn't approve of him, that another brother might prove to be the father's favorite.

  "Not all of us hate Reece," Christina said. "And not all of us believe he killed Daddy."

  "Is that what this is all about, Chris?" Tracy asked. "You're so determined to prove Reece innocent that you've hired some phony psychic to say that she's had a vision about who really killed B.K.? Don't you think it's odd that she can't see who the murderer is?"

  "Each time I have the vision, I see more and more," Elizabeth lied, and prayed her deceit didn't show on her face.

  "What do you mean, you see more and more?" Willard Moran stood, his sharp blue eyes narrowing as he glared at Elizabeth.

  "I believe it is only a matter of time before the real killer's identity is revealed to me." Elizabeth sensed more fear, greater fear-a mother's fear. She glanced down at Alice Stanton. The woman was afraid Kenny had killed his father!

  "That's nonsense, and no court of law would take anything you have to say under consideration." Bespectacled, ruddy-faced Willard Moran smoothed his thick white mustache with his thumb and index finger. "Reece Landry was tried and convicted and that's all there is to it. The man will be apprehended and punished."

  Elizabeth focused on the Stanton family's lawyer. Finding him in complete control of his very logical mind, she prodded harder. Sensing only a determination to protect Alice Stanton, Elizabeth probed his emotions. Moran's emotions were so totally centered on his devotion to Alice that all other feelings were subdued and thus shielded from Elizabeth's search.

  "You shouldn't be doing this." Alice frowned, shaking her head sadly as she stared at her daughter. "Reece Landry...killed B.K. and we all know it. You betrayed this family by hiring Gary Elkins to defend that man, and now you're so desperate to free your father's murderer that you've hired some woman to pretend she's had a vision that can prove Reece innocent."

  "I haven't hired Elizabeth," Christina said. "She does possess psychic abilities and she does know that Reece is innocent."

  "I will not listen to another word," Alice said, tears forming in her eyes. "I do not wish to be rude, young woman, but I want you to leave." She glanced at Elizabeth briefly, then focused on her clasped hands resting in her lap. "Immediately!"

  "I'm sorry that my presence has upset you, Mrs. Stanton." Elizabeth nodded to Christina. "I'll say goodbye now."

  Chris escorted Elizabeth out into the foyer, halting at the front door. "I'm sorry. I guess I was hoping-"

  "Don't apologize." Elizabeth squeezed Chris's hand. "I didn't sense anyone's guilt, but I was able to shift through all the emotions whirling around tonight and conclude several things."

  "Like what?" Chris asked. "Anything that can help Reece?"

  "I'm not sure, but perhaps." Elizabeth wondered just how honest she should be with Chris. "Your mother is afraid Kenny killed your father."

  "Oh, God! I have to admit that I've had the same doubts myself, but I still believe Harry Gunn killed Daddy. That man is an animal."

  "What about Mr. Moran?"

  "Uncle Willard?"

  "He loves your mother. He's quite devoted to her." Elizabeth opened the front door. "He'd do anything for her. Anything."

  "But why would Uncle Willard lull Daddy? He had no motive."

  "Well, someone killed your father, and we know it wasn't Reece. That leaves your brother, sister-in-law, mother and Willard Moran."

  "And Harry Gunn."

  "Yes, Harry Gunn."

  Elizabeth glanced down at the mauve silk dress she'd borrowed. "I'll have Sam return the dress to Gary Elkins's office tomorrow."

  "Don't worry about the dress." Chris followed Elizabeth outside onto the front portico. "When you see Reece... tell him... well, tell him that..."

  "He doesn't accept love easily, does he?" Elizabeth smiled at Reece's sister. "I think he knows you love him. It's just that he's known so little love in his life that he doesn't trust the emotion. Not in himself, and most definitely not in anyone else."

  "You know Reece so well to have met him only a week ago."

  Ah, but I've known him for months. "We won't give up on him, will we?" Elizabeth hugged Chris, then walked down the brick steps and toward her car.

  "Your coat," Chris called out. "Did you leave it upstairs?"

  "I put it in the car with my jeans and sweater before dinner." Elizabeth waved goodbye, then hurried quickly to her car, the winter wind chilling her.

  Just as she grasped the door handle on the T-Bird, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Whirling around, she came
face-to-face with Tracy Stanton.

  "Ms. Stanton! You startled me."

  "If Chris hired you, then I'll pay you double for telling me the truth."

  "Chris didn't hire me." Sensing Tracy's bitterness and anger, Elizabeth braced herself against the side of Sam's antique car. "I am a psychic, and I honestly do believe that Reece Landry is innocent."

  "Damn that man!"

  "Why do you dislike your brother-in-law so much, Ms. Stanton?"

  Tracy's shrill laughter scraped across Elizabeth's nerves. "I don't dislike Reece. As a matter of fact..."

  Tension coiled inside Elizabeth like a deadly snake waiting to strike. A green snake filled with jealousy. Tracy Stanton cared about Reece. She loved him, in her own selfish way.

  "You love Reece."

  "You said his name as if you know him." Tracy scanned Elizabeth's face. "Is that what this is all about? You're one of Reece's women?"

  "I can assure you, Ms. Stanton, that I'm not one of Reece Landry's women." Liar! Liar! Her conscience screamed at her. You've lain in his arms. You've kissed his hard mouth. You've known the pleasure of his possession.

  "Then let me warn you, Elizabeth Mallory. Reece Landry is deadly to the female sex. He's the kind of man we all dream about."

  When Elizabeth stared at Tracy, showing her confusion, Tracy laughed. "He's all man, if you know what I mean. I used to lie up there-" Tracy nodded toward the second floor of the Stanton mansion "-on my silk sheets and dream about what it would be like to have Reece Landry make love to me."

  "Ms. Stanton, I really don't think-"

  Tracy manacled Elizabeth's wrist, her sharp fingernails biting into Elizabeth's flesh. "I wish I'd known that B.K. was leaving Reece a big piece of the golden pie. I wouldn't have ended our affair so quickly. I would have chosen him instead of Kenny. Stanton Industries is what Reece has always wanted, you know."

  "Either you're lying to me or to yourself," Elizabeth said, jerking free of Tracy's hold. "You never had an affair with Reece Landry. He wouldn't have sex with you. He wouldn't betray his brother."

  Her brown eyes wild, Tracy glared at Elizabeth. "You really are psychic, aren't you?"

  "And you're very good at lying, aren't you, Tracy? You lied to the police and you lied in court, didn't you?"

  "You can't prove a thing." Tracy backed away from Elizabeth, her walk unsteady. "Uncle Willard told us that nothing you say is evidence. Isn't that what he said?"

  "I feel very sorry for you, Tracy Stanton." Elizabeth opened the door and got inside her car. As she drove away, she didn't look back at either Tracy or the Stanton mansion.

  Elizabeth turned her car into the parking area of the Plantation Inn, an expensive motel on the outskirts of Newell. She parked the T-Bird near the entrance. With trembling hands she opened the car door and stepped outside, her legs unsteady. The confrontation with Tracy Stanton had topped off the evening to perfection, weakening her considerably. There would be no way she could keep her condition from Sam; he would detect the symptoms immediately, having seen them in the past.

  She knew he would be furious, but that couldn't be helped. She had to give Sam her impressions of the people she had met tonight, several of the most likely suspects in B. K. Stanton's murder. Although she hadn't picked up on specific guilt from anyone, the only person she had completely ruled out was Christina.

  A sense of relief washed through her when she realized that Sam's room was on the ground floor. Fumbling in her purse for the key, Elizabeth heard voices coming from inside and wondered if Sam wasn't alone. Listening carefully, she realized that the voices were coming from a television newscast.

  Inserting the key, she turned the lock and opened the door. The room lay in semidarkness, the only light coming from the television screen and the bathroom. She scanned the room quickly. Sam was nowhere to be seen.

  "Sam," she called out, closing the door behind her.

  The bathroom door opened; Reece Landry stood in the doorway.

  Already weak from her ordeal with the Stantons, Elizabeth swayed, clutching at thin air as she felt her knees give way.

  "Lizzie!" Reece rushed across the room, grabbing Elizabeth just as she crumbled onto the floor. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her to the bed.

  She stared up into his worried face, reaching for him, barely able to lift her arms. "What are you doing here?"

  "Waiting for you." Reece laid her gently on the bed, sitting beside her, holding her hand. "What's wrong? What happened?"

  "Nothing's wrong. I'm fine." She tried to sit up, but her head began to spin. This was all her fault. She had overreacted to the venom inside the Stanton home, the riot of emotions ranging from hatred to desperation. She had tried to shield herself, but in her zealousness to discover any possible leads, she had allowed herself to become too immersed in her psychic readings.

  "You're not fine. Something happened. I want to know." Reece ran his hands up and down her arms, grasping her shoulders and anchoring her to the bed.

  "Where's Sam?"

  "He's not here." A twinge of anger shot through Reece. Why did she need Sam? What could Dundee do for her that he couldn't? "What's wrong, Lizzie? Tell me. I want to help you."

  Elizabeth smiled at Reece, recalling the numerous times she had pleaded with him to allow her to help him. Now the situation was reversed, if only temporarily. Lifting her hand, she stroked his cheek.

  "I'm exhausted... from trying to read their thoughts, from trying to pick up on anything that could-"

  Reece covered her lips with his fingertip. "You never should have gone home with Christina. My gut instincts told me it was dangerous. Damn, Lizzie, this is my fault. Sam tried to tell me what could happen to you."

  "I'm all right, Reece. I was just trying too hard. I didn't protect myself."

  "You shouldn't be in the middle of this mess. You should be home in Sequana Falls all safe and sound."

  "And I will be home all safe and sound, once we find out who really killed B.K." Elizabeth tried to sit up; Reece shoved her back down on the bed.

  "I don't want you to do anything except lie there and rest. Sam should be back in a few hours." Reece kissed her on the forehead, then stood. "I have to go see somebody before I go back to Spruce Pine. I want you to stay here with Sam tonight. You'll be safe."

  An old Western movie came to life on the television. Blurs of vivid color danced across the screen. The beat of Hollywood-style Indian war drums echoed through the room.

  "Where is Sam?"

  "He's following up a lead I gave him." Elizabeth widened her eyes, questioning Reece. "I had told Sam that Tracy was Kenny's alibi and vice versa, but my bet was Tracy wasn't with Kenny when B.K. was shot. I figure she was with some guy."

  "She spends more time with her lovers than with her husband, doesn't she?"

  "I didn't sleep with Tracy. I told you that. I was tempted, mainly because she belonged to Kenny, and then when it came right down to it, Kenny was the reason I didn't."

  "You hurt her deeply when you rejected her." Elizabeth sat up on the edge of the bed, removed her coat and tossed it on a nearby chair. "She thinks she's in love with you."

  "Did you two have a nice little chat tonight?" Reece surveyed Elizabeth from the top of her head to the tips of her mauve pumps. "Where did you get those clothes?"

  "Yes, Tracy and I had a nice little chat. And these clothes belong to Christina. The shoes are a little loose, but a close fit." Elizabeth kicked off the high heels. "So Sam is trying to find the guy you think Tracy was with when B.K. was shot?"

  "He's already found him. He's meeting him tonight and going to try to persuade him to admit the truth."

  "Sam has been very busy." Elizabeth rubbed her temples, willing the tension to subside, breathing deeply as she relaxed.

  "Sam came out to the cottage this afternoon to tell me what he'd found out. He knew I'd be going nuts waiting around out there. He understood why I needed to come into Newell with him, why I needed to see you after you met Chr
is's family."

  "I can't believe Sam let you take such a risk!"

  "Sam understood, dammit! He advised me against coming, but he knows I've got to be involved in solving my own problems, that I can't sit out there in Spruce Pine while you and he take all the risks."

  Standing, Elizabeth walked slowly toward the bathroom. Reece hurried to her side when she leaned against the doorpost. "Where the hell are you going?"

  "I need to wash my face and get something to drink."

  "Come on and sit down." Reece led her back to the bed. "I'll get you a washcloth and a glass of water."

  "How does Sam think he'll be able to persuade Tracy's lover to admit she was with him the night B.K. was murdered?" Elizabeth asked, sitting down on the bed.

  "By paying him to tell the truth, the same way I'm sure Tracy paid him to lie," Reece called out from the bathroom. "Sam said he'd cover the expense and I could pay him back out of my inheritance."

  "By all means, you and Sam be sure to keep tabs on who owes what. You wouldn't want to be indebted to each other," Elizabeth mumbled.

  "What?" Reece came out of the bathroom carrying a damp washcloth and a glass of water.

  "Nothing. I was just talking to myself."

  Reece set the glass on the nightstand and handed Elizabeth the washcloth. "Will you be all right here by yourself until Sam gets back?"

  "Where are you going?" Elizabeth ran the washcloth over her face, savoring the feel of the cool moistness on her skin.

  "B.K.'s secretary, Claire Roberts, lied under oath during the trial. When Gary questioned her about a fight Kenny and B.K. had the day B.K. died, she claimed Kenny and his father hadn't argued, that the two got along beautifully."

  "Hadn't anyone else heard their argument?"

  "Yeah. Me."

  "So it was your word against this Claire Roberts's. Why would she have lied?"

  "All I can figure is that Kenny threatened her somehow, probably threatened to fire her. I know Claire liked me.

  She's a good, decent woman. If I can talk to her, I might be able to persuade her to tell the truth."

  "You can't mean you're going to see her tonight!"