Jack had stayed with Lorie until Cathy arrived a little after six, and she was grateful that, for the most part, he had left her alone. He hadn’t tried to start up a conversation or offer her comfort or advice. While she had reclined on the chaise, alone in her room, the shades pulled and a meditation CD playing, Jack had protected her from the reporters who had followed them from Treasures. And he had telephoned his sister Maleah to ask that Powell’s have another bodyguard ready to send if Lorie didn’t change her mind about Mike. Which she wouldn’t and had tried to tell Jack, but like most men, he listened only when he wanted to. By the time Cathy arrived with grilled chicken sandwiches, fries, Cokes, and single-serving apple pies from Burger King, the reporters had left. All except Ryan Bonner.
“Can’t you make him go away?” Cathy asked as she spread out their meal on the kitchen table.
“He’s not on Lorie’s property,” Jack told her. “He’s parked across the road in the Summervilles’ driveway. Apparently, they have no objection to him being there.”
“Maybe you should call and ask them.”
“And maybe you should calm down and pretend he’s not there,” Jack said.
“Is that your subtle way of telling me that ignoring him is the best course of action?”
“Something like that. At least for now.”
“All right then.” Cathy smiled at Lorie and urged her to sit. “Let’s eat before everything gets cold. There’s nothing worse than cold fries.”
“Maybe cold coffee.” Lorie returned Cathy’s smile.
The last thing Lorie wanted was food. But if she didn’t at least go through the motions, Cathy would probably force-feed her. It was an effort to swallow each bite, but to appease Cathy, Lorie slowly ate a third of her sandwich and a few fries.
“Is that all you’re going to eat?” Cathy asked.
“For now. I promise I’ll eat the pie later.” She set the unopened dessert box in the center of the table.
Just as she gathered up the remainder of her food and headed for the garbage can, the doorbell rang. Apparently still a lot more rattled than she realized, Lorie gasped, her hands jerked, and the remnants of her partially eaten meal fell to the floor.
“You two stay here,” Jack told them as he rose from the table. “I’ll see who it is.”
When Lorie bent down to clean up the mess she had made, Cathy got up and rushed over to her. “Let me do that.” She grabbed Lorie’s shaky hands. “You need to pull yourself together.”
By the time Cathy cleaned up the floor and dumped everything, including her leftovers and Jack’s, into the garbage, Lorie had managed to calm her rattled nerves. But relief was short-lived. Jack returned to the kitchen with a guest.
“What are you doing here?” Lorie glared at Mike, who stood in the kitchen doorway, a few feet behind Jack.
Mike glanced at Cathy. “Would you two mind giving Lorie and me a few minutes alone?”
“Don’t you dare go anywhere,” Lorie told her friends as she glowered at Mike. “I want you to leave.”
“Just talk to him, will you?” Jack said as he and Cathy made a hasty exit.
Lorie stood her ground in the middle of the room, her arms crossed over her chest and her chin tilted defiantly.
“I apologize,” Mike said. “Everything I said was the truth, but I said it all wrong. It didn’t come out the way I meant it.”
“And how did you mean it?”
“I was angry with myself for letting you talk me into taking you to Treasures today. If you’d just stayed at home, none of this would have happened.” Before she could protest, he held up his hand in a wait-a-minute gesture. “It’s my fault. Not yours.”
“No, it’s my fault for nagging you about it day after day.”
“Look, honey, I’ve kept a lot bottled up inside me. I should have told you that my mother and the kids are still being harassed by a few stupid people about my moving in here with you. And I should have explained that I’ve been getting some pretty nasty phone calls from a handful of people letting me know how displeased they are by my conduct.”
“Your conduct?”
“Oh, the objections about my conduct range from my setting a bad example by living in sin with a woman of ill repute to I should be forced to resign for spending taxpayer dollars to protect a woman like you.”
Poor Mike. No wonder he had exploded the way he had.
“I guess I owe you an apology, too,” she said. “I think the stress is getting to me more than I realized. I thought everything had settled down somewhat, that the sharks were no longer circling and it was reasonably safe to go back into the water. But apparently the ladies from the Women for Christian Morality were just waiting for a chance to attack.”
“I think Patsy Elliott set them straight today,” Mike said. “In her own diplomatic way she told them that their actions were neither moral nor Christian and that by deliberately being cruel to another human being they were going against Christ’s teachings. ‘Love one another.’ ‘Judge not that ye be not judged.’ She quoted Scripture to them, chapter and verse.”
“Patsy is one in a million,” Lorie said. “God bless Patsy Elliott. If only all ministers could be like her.”
“She’s a good person.” Mike centered his gaze on Lorie’s face. “Am I forgiven?”
“There’s nothing to forgive,” she told him. “It’s been a terrible afternoon, and the sooner we put it behind us the better.”
“I agree.” Mike nodded toward the closed kitchen door. “I’ll tell Jack and Cathy that they can go on home.”
“No, don’t. I mean, wait just a minute.”
“Is there something else?”
“You can’t stay,” she said.
“What do you mean I can’t stay? I thought—”
“I wish you could stay. I want you to stay. But not at the cost of your reputation and your job. And not when Nell and the children are being put in such an awful position. It’s not fair to ask you to pay such a high price—”
Mike grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “I’m not walking away from you. Not while you’re in danger. I won’t do it. I can’t.”
“No matter what the personal cost to you and your family?”
He loosened his hold on her shoulders, eased his hands down her arms, and took her hands in his. “I can’t promise you a future and I’m sorry about that. But I can offer you my protection. I need to do this, Lorie. Please, don’t send me away. Not yet.”
Biting down on her bottom lip in an effort not to cry, she closed her eyes and prayed for guidance. How could she possibly refuse his request knowing what it meant to him? If he could keep her safe, no matter what the personal cost, then when all was said and done, he could walk away with a clear conscience. He would then be able to forgive himself for the way he had treated her in the past and move on with his life.
“You can stay,” she told him. “But I’m not sure about—”
“I’ll sleep in the guest bedroom tonight.”
“All right.”
The Misners’ cook had prepared dinner before she left and the housekeeper would clean up when she came on duty in the morning, so only the Misners and their bodyguards were there to welcome him. He was glad that he wouldn’t be forced to kill the cook; after all, she was just an innocent bystander. The bodyguards were, unfortunately, collateral damage. The 8:00 A.M. to 8:00 P.M. guards had been relieved by the night shift before he arrived. Lucky day shift. Unlucky night shift.
Feeling safe and secure in their mansion on the hill, behind locked gates and with two trained professionals guarding them around the clock, Jean and Jeff had been the perfect host and hostess. The three of them had sat around after a delicious meal and discussed the past while they downed several drinks and he nursed the one scotch and soda Jeff had prepared for him.
As the midnight hour approached, Jeff yawned several times and mentioned going to bed. Thinking quick on his feet, he managed to revive the conversation and keep it going wi
thout arousing suspicion. Then at fifteen till, he rose to his feet just as both bodyguards came into the living room after making their rounds inside and outside of the house. Jeff had explained that at 11:30 each night, the guards double-checked to make sure the house was secure.
“Before we all turn in for the evening, I have something in my suitcase that I brought for you, Jean. A little gift. Let me go get it and give it to you.”
“That’s so sweet,” Jean said. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Oh, but I did.” He moved toward the hallway that led to the guest bedroom. “Just give me a couple of minutes. In the meantime, prepare yourself for a surprise.”
Jean laughed. “I do love surprises.”
She wasn’t going to love this one, but at least he could give her one final, truly impressive surprise before she died. A little parting gift to the woman who had given so much to so many. The woman who had played a part in ruining his life. Of course, she hadn’t single-handedly destroyed him. She’d had a lot of help. Dean and Hilary and Charlie and Shontee. Charlene and Sonny and Lorie. And Terri.
Look at them cavorting around naked as the day they were born. The voice inside his head boomed loudly in his memory. Wicked, evil, depraved, sex-craved men and women. See the way he touches her, without love or respect. All he wants is to use her for his own perverted pleasure. How can she let him do those things to her?
Watch and learn. And never forget.
He entered the bedroom with its gleaming hardwood floors and huge windows that overlooked the patio and pool. When he had first arrived, one of the bodyguards had showed him to the room Jean had assigned him so that he could freshen up for dinner. He removed his small suitcase from the closet where he had stored it earlier this evening, set it on the bed, and flipped it open. First, he removed the beautiful mask that Puff Raven had worn in Midnight Masquerade and carefully peeled away the protective tissue paper surrounding it. Then he put on a pair of thin plastic gloves he had brought with him and removed the Glock 17 from the quilted pouch attached to the back side of the case. He had purchased the weapon this morning from a rather unsavory character, but then what other kind sold illegal guns? Over the past few months, he had learned that buying a gun that couldn’t be traced back to him was a relatively simple matter. All it required was enough cash in hand and knowing how to go about locating a seller.
He checked the semiautomatic. He would come back for the mask later, once he had killed Jean and removed her clothes.
With the Glock inside his sports coat jacket, he slipped out of the bedroom and back up the hall. A minute before reentering the living room, he pulled the gun from his pocket.
He would have to go into the room shooting. The two bodyguards would still be with Jean and Jeff.
“They are both always with Jean at midnight,” Jeff had told him.
With the element of surprise on his side, he opened fire the minute he saw the first bodyguard, striking the guy three times in rapid succession, the third bullet entering his heart. He then turned to the second bodyguard, who had pulled his pistol from his shoulder holster, but before the guard got off the first shot, he took him out with a lucky hit right between the eyes. Adrenaline surged through his body as Jean screamed and Jeff cursed.
They stared at him in utter disbelief.
He aimed the Glock at Jeff.
“It was you?” Jean asked, her eyes wide with shock. “You—you’re the Midnight Killer?”
“Don’t do this,” Jeff pleaded. “I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll write out a check for every cent we have and—”
“This isn’t about money,” he said. “This is about what your wife and the others did to me.”
“What did I ever do to you?” Jean held out her hands in her typical dramatic fashion.
He caught Jeff trying to sneak toward the desk in the far corner. Without issuing a warning, he aimed and fired, hitting Jeff in the belly.
Jean screamed again. “Oh, God, Jeff, Jeff…”
He turned the gun on her when she started to go to her husband. He fired instantly, deliberately striking her in the shoulder. She cried out in pain.
On his knees and doubled over as blood gushed from his abdomen, Jeff sobbed loudly and continued pleading for his life and Jean’s.
“Shut the fuck up!” He’d heard all he wanted to hear.
He shot Jeff four more times until he fell over on his face and didn’t say another word.
And then he turned back to Jean, who had inched her way slowly back against the wall. “Please, please…”
The modern chrome-finished wall clock chimed the midnight hour. Before the clock had struck six times, the next bullet hit Jean in the thigh, and by the ninth ring, the third bullet entered her chest. She slid down the wall and onto the floor, moaning and groaning, and taking her time to die.
Enough of this!
He walked across the room, stood over her, pressed the muzzle against her temple and said, “Dead by midnight.” Then he fired the fatal shot.
Puff Raven was dead.
After glancing around at his handiwork, he slid the Glock back into his coat pocket and knelt down beside Jean. He took his time undressing her and discarding her bloody silk caftan. Beneath the single garment, she was naked except for an indecent orange lace thong. With the utmost care, he slid the string out from between her butt cheeks and pulled the scrap of cloth down her legs. He crushed the thong in his hand, brought it to his nose, and sniffed the musky scent of Puff Raven’s pussy before stuffing the thong into his pocket.
Only one final touch was needed to complete the scene. He walked leisurely down the hall to the guest bedroom, picked up the beautiful mask, and returned to the living room. Once he had placed the mask over her face, he stood back and admired his handiwork.
Perfect.
Taking all the time he needed to do a thorough job, he went through the house, systematically wiping down or washing every item he had touched tonight. No need to take chances by leaving behind evidence that could be traced back to him. Not that he was a suspect, but it was best to err on the side of caution.
Once he had completed his clean-up chores, he went back to the bedroom, removed the plastic gloves, and tossed them and the tissue paper that had covered the mask into the suitcase, along with Jean’s caftan. He picked up the suitcase and carried it with him when he left the Misners’ fabulous Hollywood Hills mansion. Once outside, he tossed the suitcase into the backseat of his rental car and then slid behind the wheel. The locked gates opened automatically for vehicles exiting the premises, so he drove straight out onto the street and off into the night.
Chapter 32
At 8:15 on the last Friday morning in April, Lila Newton received a phone call from Mr. Owens shortly after coming on duty at Green Willows. Yesterday, she had had debated whether or not to contact Terri Owens’s daughter-in-law and explain the situation. They had been forced to keep Terri sedated all day. Each time she resurfaced from the effects of the medication, she quickly went from slightly agitated to almost hysterical. And since Terri couldn’t speak coherently and her attempts to write looked like little more than hen scratches, the staff had no way of knowing what she was trying to tell them. Finally, Lila had telephoned Amelia Rose around 9:30 last night.
“I’ll call Tyler and tell him what’s happening and that his mother wants to see him. He’s due home tomorrow evening anyway.”
“I’ve never seen Miss Terri this way,” Lila had said. “For the most part, she’s usually cooperative, even docile. But ever since she found out that Mr. Tyler went out of town, she’s been acting up.”
When Lila took the phone call, she assumed it was Mr. Tyler calling to check on his mother, so when she heard Mr. Ransom’s voice, it momentarily startled her.
“Lila? Lila, are you there?” Mr. Ransom asked.
“Yes, sir. Sorry. I…uh…I was told that a Mr. Owens was on the line and I expected it to be Mr. Tyler.”
“Is there some
reason you were expecting Tyler to call?”
Lila hated to tell Mr. Ransom over the phone, with him off on a research trip somewhere, about his ex-wife’s condition. But he would want to know, and if Mr. Tyler couldn’t get to the bottom of the problem when he came home this evening, maybe Mr. Ransom could.
“I had to call Amelia Rose last night. We had a time with Miss Terri all day yesterday, from the time she woke up. I’ve never seen her that way. The doctor examined her and didn’t find any physical changes, so we assume it’s something entirely emotional. She seems desperate to see Mr. Tyler.”
“And you have no idea why she wants to see Tyler? She’s been unable to communicate in any way?”
Lila sighed. “Well, she did smear grape jelly on the top of her over-bed table and tried to write Mr. Tyler’s name with her finger. I believe she wants to tell him something that she thinks is important.”
“And you have no idea what that might be?”
“No, sir, I don’t.”
“It’s possible that she’s dreamed up something in her mind or she’s blown a minor problem out of proportion. After all, she hasn’t been herself since the stroke. Naturally, the best course of action is to keep her sedated for the time being. Has Tyler been in to see her?”
“Mr. Tyler is out of town.”
“Is he?”
“He’s due home this evening.”
“Lila, would you please do me a favor?’
“Yes, certainly, Mr. Ransom.”
“Keep a close eye on Terri when Tyler visits her and let me know what transpires between them. I wouldn’t ask, but since Tyler refuses to even speak to me, I—I…”
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