“Come off it, Norma. You could not have cared less about that. You never wanted to sleep with me. I’m a man, I have needs. Did you actually think I could live with you, knowing you were frigid? I’ll admit I had an interest in your money. At first. Then I grew to care for you. Every time I would try to make love to you, you would banish me from our room for weeks. After a while I couldn’t take it anymore. As I said, a man has needs.”
“While we’re laying our cards on the table, Robert, why don’t you tell me what really happened that night you ran to her house claiming you were helping the sheriff.”
“You know what happened.” He walked over to his file cabinet and returned the files he’d been reorganizing.
“You’re right. I do. Another case of me snooping.”
“You really amaze me, Norma. Now that we’ve shared all our secrets, would you consider leaving so I can get this mess you’ve made cleaned up? Then, maybe I can finish my work. I’ve a hospital to run, Norma, or have you forgotten?”
It would never matter what she said. He’d always do what he wanted, to whom he wanted, when he wanted. He’d spent the last twenty years humiliating her. The household staff that once respected her now looked at her with pity. Sly glances were cast her way the few times they’d gone to The Oaks. She wondered how many of the female members he’d slept with.
She knew, she knew what they were planning. And she wasn’t about to let him have the last laugh. Not in this lifetime.
It all came back to Daddy’s will.
While he’d provided for her and several generations to come, there’d been a stipulation in her father’s will that only she and her father’s attorney’s were aware of. Daddy hadn’t wanted to bring shame on the Fulton name. He’d spent his entire life reminding her where they came from, how far back they could trace their ancestry. She’d been a good daughter. Her mother died when she was six, leaving her in the strict hands of her father and a houseful of help. And she’d turned out to be a good girl; she really had.
She was a virgin when she and Robert married, and she really tried to enjoy that part of her marriage, but couldn’t. Robert was right. She was frigid. She could live with that. Hell, she could live with his mistresses and the humiliation.
What she couldn’t live with was divorce.
She knew he and Eve Worthington planned to marry as soon as John died. She’d even thought Robert might try to kill her.
“Norma!” Robert shouted.
“Okay, okay.” She stood up, searched for her shoes. Finding only one, she crammed her foot inside and reached for her handbag on Robert’s desk. God, if he only knew!
“Just one more thing, Robert, and I’ll drive myself home. Really, I’m fine.” She couldn’t wait to see the look on his face.
He was losing patience with her, she knew, but this time she had no reason to care. She had nothing to lose.
“Daddy was a fine man, Robert. You know how I respected him. Sometimes he actually reminded me of you.”
“I’m honored.”
“His last act of kindness, want to know what it was?”
Robert turned to face her and spoke in his usual sarcastic tone. “Enlighten me.”
“Oh, I’m about to.” She dug inside her purse, feeling for the small piece of paper. She held the crumpled ball in her hand, not bothering to unfold it.
“It reads something like this, I copied it from Daddy’s will. Not verbatim, but close enough. If my one daughter, Norma Jean . . .” She stopped and looked at Robert before continuing, “Do you believe they actually named me that? If my one and only daughter Norma Jean Fulton-Bentley divorces, my entire estate, which I so humbly blah, blah, blah left her, is to be divided among the following charities. Blah, blah, blah.”
Norma knew Robert was shocked because it took him a few minutes to recover.
“I’m sorry, Norma. I had no idea. It doesn’t really matter since we’re planning on keeping our marriage vows. You know, till death do us part.”
“For once Robert we’re in total agreement.”
From inside the folded paper she removed a small revolver. Aiming at Robert’s chest, she repeated his last words as she pulled back the hammer.
“Till death do us part.”
Adam waited patiently for Blake to meet him at Parker’s office. He’d made nine calls to his house and office number before he finally located him at Swan House on his cell phone. It was after midnight, and all he wanted to do was call it a night. He’d driven to Marietta and spent the morning with his father. He hadn’t wanted to leave him. The look of hurt on his father’s face was more than he could take. They’d talked about Eve and her possible relationship with Robert Bentley. His father hadn’t been the fool he thought. When he asked why he’d changed his will, he’d explained that he hadn’t really changed it at all. He’d only pretended, fearing Eve might find out. He was suspicious himself and had been for a number of years.
He explained how when Casey was about to return home, Eve started acting strange again, having her “spells.” She’d become very secretive when she made visits to Memorial, wanting to know about the will, the business, and a host of other things.
The final straw for John had been when he learned she had fired Mort Sweeney. Adam still couldn’t believe she’d done it. His father and Mort had been friends for more than fifty years.
And the icing on the cake was Mort’s replacement. None other than Robert Bentley. That had been enough to persuade his father to stay at the Carriage House in Marietta until things were settled between him and Eve. He would file for divorce as soon as his lawyers could draw up the paperwork.
It was sad, Adam thought, to what lengths people would go out of greed.
Parker returned to the office carrying three mugs of freshly brewed coffee. Earlier he’d introduced Adam to Walter Watts, and now the three of them patiently waited for Blake.
“I think our prisoner is set for the night. The guy must be on drugs. I hate locking him up in a cell, but the guy has no ID on him, and I really feel bad after socking it to him. He’s gonna have a helluva shiner in the morning.”
“You want me to take a look at him, Parker?” Adam asked.
“It wouldn’t hurt. Follow me.”
“Mind if I tag along?” Walter asked.
“The more the merrier,” Parker shot over his shoulder.
The cell located at the end of the hall was nothing more than a storage room with a few bars. A smart criminal would have no problem escaping, especially with the window above the cot.
Adam and Walter stood aside as Parker pulled the door open. The prisoner moaned and rolled over onto his back.
Adam stepped up to take a closer look. He gently took the man’s head in his hand and prodded along his nose and beneath his eyes.
“Got a flashlight?”
Parker pulled one from his hip pocket and handed it to him. Adam lifted the man’s lids and shined the light in his eyes. After several minutes, he gave the light back to the sheriff.
They went back to the front office, none of them wanting to speak in front of the man, who still remained groggy.
“What was he doing when you found him?” Adam asked.
“I thought he was about to break into the doc’s house. Then I belted him a good one. He told me he was sick, looking for a doctor. Well, hell, after that I felt like a real asshole. I offered to drive him over to Memorial, that’s when he jumped off the porch and tried to run. Think I hurt him?” Parker asked Adam.
“No. He’ll be fine.”
“You sure?”
Adam nodded, then addressed his next question to Walter. “Can you do a background check with that thing? And fingerprints?” Adam indicated the small laptop Walter placed on top of Parker’s desk.
“This ‘thing’ as you call it can do all you mentioned and then some. Want to see?” Walter punched a button and the screen lit up with the GBI logo in bright yellow letters. He moved the mouse around a few times. Adam and Parker slid
their chairs in for a closer look. “Watch this.” Walter punched in a few codes, and paused while the computer searched.
“This particular program enables blood spatter analysts such as me to carry out highly sophisticated string analysis for up to fifty bloodstains on as many as twelve different surfaces at a crime scene.” Walter’s eyes lit up as he continued. “The data defining the strings to be attached to a blood spatter can then be entered via the keyboard or read from a file. Another program, actually one even more sophisticated, speeds up the analysis by using digital images of individual bloodstains created by a digital camera or a camcorder. This is what I plan to do with the blood splatters in question.”
“Way over my head, that’s for sure,” Parker said.
“And mine. If I were to give you a fingerprint right now, could you run it?”
“Sure, bring it on.”
“Sheriff, do you have a fingerprint kit around here?” Adam inquired.
“Somewhere, let me look.” Parker got up and returned a few minutes later with the kit.
All eyes were on Adam as he made a second trip to the cell. Walter took the required prints. Their prisoner never moved a muscle.
“This will take a few minutes, guys. Parker, how about some more of that shitty coffee you just served us.”
Eve stripped off her Ralph Lauren panties and bra and stood under the shower’s soothing warm spray. She had wasted an entire evening waiting for Robert. Norma must’ve persuaded him to spend the evening with her; otherwise, Robert would’ve signaled for her. He knew she’d be waiting in the patient parking lot where she could see his office. The familiar flash of the lights being turned off and on three consecutive times never came.
They needed to meet to arrange their final plans. The moment they’d both been waiting for had arrived. With John out of the way, his declaration of mental incapacity just around the corner, and Robert about to share the helm with her at Worthington Enterprises, her lifelong goal was so nearly in her grasp, she could feel it.
No more begging for money. She would never have to touch John’s flaccid penis again in hopes he’d lavish her with another extension on her credit card. She cringed when she thought about it. After Reed’s wimpy penis and John’s, Robert had been a gift from the penis fairy. And of course by the time she and John married and actually attempted to consummate their marriage he was too old to get it up, and when he did, he could hardly keep it up. Robert had spoiled her for any other man.
Then Casey had been released from the hospital. Robert explained to her how Macklin had skipped out after leaving him no other alternative than to agree to release Casey.
So far the attempts to keep her from remembering had failed. Robert wanted to take it a step further, but Eve didn’t want to discuss his plans for Casey. And that pitiful excuse for an informant, Hank. She’d stopped by the carriage house before going upstairs. His truck wasn’t parked in its usual spot, so Eve tapped on the door. Curious, she’d used her key to slip inside. Stunned by what she didn’t see, she decided it was best that he’d packed up and left. Who knew how much more money he’d want to keep quiet. Thank God, he’d confessed to her when she questioned him about Casey’s recent head injury.
She stepped out of the shower. Feeling better already, she tried to call Robert on his cell phone but there was no answer.
It would keep until tomorrow. Eve slid between the cool sheets of her king-size bed, closed her eyes, and immediately went to sleep.
She dreamed of a girl in a stained blue dress.
Chapter 27
“You should be in bed after the traumatic day you’ve had,” Blake said to Casey, as they traveled the quiet roads of Sweetwater.
“I’ve had a traumatic life. One more day doesn’t seem to make much difference,” Casey said.
“True. I still think you should have stayed at Swan House. Adam said he needed to talk to me, not us,” Blake reminded her.
“I know. And I’ll leave the room if he doesn’t want to talk with me there. I just couldn’t stay at that house. I’d wonder about Hank.” And my mother, she wanted to add, but couldn’t. Not yet. She needed more time to think about the crime her mother had known about all along. The crime she’d allowed to continue for nine long years.
Blake’s cell phone rang. Casey hoped it wasn’t the hospital. Not now.
“Dr. Hunter.”
“Stop, slow down! When? Do they know who did it?” Blake pulled to the side of the road and jammed the car into park.
“What?” Casey whispered.
He held a finger to his lips.
“Hold on, I’ll ask her.” He placed his hand over the phone. “Casey, did you see Eve after the luncheon yesterday?”
She shook her head.
“No. We’re on our way.” Blake hit the end button and shifted into drive.
“What!”
“You’re not going to believe this. That was Adam. Becky Trilling, Bentley’s secretary, just called Sheriff Parker. Said she had to return to the office to do something, and when she stopped by his office to see if he needed anything else, she found Bentley. He’d been shot three times in the chest.”
Stunned with the news, Casey could only stare ahead of her. “Is he . . . is he dead?”
“No, he’s in surgery. Adam spoke with the surgeon. They’re doing everything possible for him.”
“Blake, I don’t want to go to the hospital.”
“Neither do I. We’re going to Parker’s.”
“Do they know who . . .” Did they think her mother had shot Bentley? She might be crazy, and cruel, but Casey knew she wouldn’t shoot a man.
“They’re not sure. Parker called Brunswick for some extra deputies. They’re sending them over on the ferry first thing in the morning.”
“Blake,” she paused, unsure how to word her next question, “if it were you, knowing what you know about Bentley, would you . . . you know. If you operated . . .”
“I’ve taken an oath, Casey. There’s nothing in this world that could make me break that oath.”
She released the breath she’d been holding. “Thank God!”
Blake slipped the BMW next to Adam’s Jag, which was parked next to the sheriff’s patrol car. Adam led them inside and introduced them to Walter. Casey knew she had a long night ahead of her when Adam passed out cups of coffee.
“What happened tonight?” Blake asked Adam.
“Bentley is just the beginning. His secretary hadn’t been there, so it was lucky for him she had to go back. She thought he must’ve locked himself up in the office the night before because no one remembered seeing him yesterday. Parker’s questioning the staff now.
“He took three shots in the chest, one of them is critical. According to the surgeon on duty, it doesn’t look good.”
“If anyone can patch the poor son of a bitch up, it’s Byron,” Blake said. “Bentley’s lucky he was on tonight. He doesn’t come to Memorial as often since setting up his practice in Brunswick.”
Casey caught Blake’s eye and nodded at Walter.
“I’m sorry,” Walter said to Casey. “I don’t usually stare. I’m trying to decide if you’re right-or left-handed.”
Relieved, Casey said, “Left.”
“I knew it!” Walter jumped up and began pacing the small office.
“What are you talking about?” Casey asked.
“Roland had a few snapshots of the blood spatters. They weren’t very good, some guy named Buddy took them. But they were good enough for me to scan into the system and get a readout.”
“Walter’s computer works miracles,” Adam explained.
Casey’s heartbeat accelerated, and for a minute she thought she would have a panic attack. Is this the evidence the sheriff needed? She forgot about Bentley while sharing Walter’s excitement. “The reconstruction of the flight paths . . .”
“In laymen’s terms, please,” Adam interrupted.
“Keep in mind this is just professional guessing. The photographs I
used aren’t compatible with my system, but we’re playing right now. The spatters, the width of the stain, the direction of the droplets, all indicate a right-handed person yielded the weapon. I’ll know more after I take my own pictures and see the mattress.”
Casey prayed he was right.
“Blake, Casey, would you both follow me for a minute? I think I’ve got something you might be interested in. Walter?” Adam said.
Casey looked to Blake, who just shrugged. The short walk down the hall led them to the “jail,” where they observed an inmate. Casey swung around, hating the bars because they reminded her of her former room at Sanctuary.
Blake grabbed her arm and forced her to turn around and look at the inmate.
“Recognize him?”
Casey took a closer look at the man. His face was swollen and beginning to darken with purplish black bruises. “Dr. Dewitt!”
“The one and only,” Adam said as he led the trio back to Parker’s office.
“What is he doing here?” Casey asked.
“I wondered that myself until Walter worked his magic. At first I thought he looked familiar, but it’s hard to tell with the swelling. Something about him bothered me. Walter checked his prints, and that’s how we discovered who he was. He wasn’t carrying any ID when Parker picked him up.”
“What in the hell did Parker pick him up for?” Blake asked.
“This is the clincher. He found him at your house, trying to break in!”
“Why?” Casey and Blake said at the same time.
“We’ve tried to question him, but he keeps saying something about drugs. Then he mentioned the infamous Bentley, and I knew we’d better check further. Again, Walter’s magic provided us with a quick answer.”
Adam refilled their cups before continuing. “Blake, do you remember hearing about the young black girl over in Savannah they found hanging in that abandoned apartment fifteen or so years ago? The one who’d been released on a weekend furlough from Mercy?”
About Face Page 33
