by Meryl Sawyer
"Suzanne was pregnant. Did she go to a doctor to confirm it? Could the doctor's office have called your house?"
"She used a home test kit."
Kelly had no doubt he was telling the truth. She was equally certain that Suzanne's parents had not told anyone.
"Do you know what an infinity transmitter is?" she asked, recalling the tiny listening devices that Logan had discovered.
"Of course, I was on the Armed Services Committee when funding was approved for their development years ago. You're not suggesting—"
His words hung in the air, and Kelly let them, giving Woody time to mull over the situation.
"I told Suzanne I was changing my will. I wanted our child to inherit my estate. We were in my bedroom in Washington when I told her. The rest of the family was in Sedona. She flew home without me, and two days later, Suzanne was dead."
"Infinity transmitters can be hidden anywhere, not just in the telephone, right?" she asked and he nodded. "They transmit over the phone lines, but Logan said the receiver itself can be moved easily from location to location."
"He was right. Someone in my own family must have been using one the night I thought Suzanne and I were alone. They didn't want me to change my will." He stared at her for a long moment, but she didn't think he was actually seeing her. "They still don't. My lawyer was driving up here from Phoenix last week to work on my will. The brakes on his new BMW went out, and he was nearly killed. Turns out the brake line had been cut. He suspected a disgruntled client, but now I wonder."
"I don't." Kelly sucked in her breath and decided to roll the dice. "Logan wasn't killed by Miguel Orinda's men."
She took her time and explained about the infinity transmitters Logan had predicted they would find in Pop's telephones. Woody's eyes narrowed as she described Logan deliberately telling everyone they were going to a different part of Red Rock country than where they were actually going on their wedding night.
"Logan thought someone would try to kill him," Woody said.
"Yes. He tried to prevent anyone from finding out we were going to Venezuela. I didn't warn Matthew Jensen. Some woman called him, claiming to be with the Social Services department. That's how they knew."
"They had my son killed." Woody slowly shook his head.
Interesting, Kelly thought. They. Not he or she. They.
"The twins were together when one of them pushed Logan into that ravine," she quietly reminded Woody. "Do you suppose?"
It was over a minute before Woody responded. When he did, his eyes were intent, determined. Logan's eyes.
"Kelly, you and I are going to find out the truth."
* * *
Chapter 37
« ^ »
"I need to talk to you. It's important."
Her cool blue eyes were trained on Woody's guests, honchos from the NRA. Woody had just informed the rifle association board that he had absolutely no intention of running for president. The men had been openly disappointed. After all, Haywood Stanfield had been their champion in the senate for over a quarter of a century.
They slipped away, walking down to the stallion's stable. Everyone expected them to be enthralled with the horses, the way Woody was. They wouldn't think twice about them going to the stables together.
"Have you heard from the Israeli agent you sent after Logan?" she asked in an undertone as they walked away from the gathering.
"Not a word yet. If I hadn't been monitoring Woody's calls, it might have been days before I learned Logan had been killed."
"I want all the gory details. I hope Logan died slowly."
They passed the mares' stable, and he said, "Kelly's idea about moving the new colt in with the mares has worked. He's eating normally now."
"You dragged me all the way down here to tell me that?" she snapped.
Since Kelly had reappeared, she had gone ballistic at the slightest provocation. If he had any sense at all, he wouldn't share his latest news with her. But his plan was bold, a preemptive strike to secure their future. He needed her help, if they were going to pull it off.
"Kelly called Woody this morning. Apparently he visited her yesterday. She told him she might be pregnant. When she phoned today, she said her pregnancy test was positive."
"I knew it. Kelly will use that baby to get money out of Woody. It's Suzanne all over again. This time I'm going to be the one to kill her. I—"
"Kelly had more to say. She told Woody that she has proof Suzanne was murdered."
"She's lying! Two coroners agreed. Suzanne had a heart condition."
He let her rant for a few minutes, venting her anger so she would listen to him closely. "Kelly insists Suzanne died of brucine poisoning."
She stared at him, her delicate nostrils flaring. "You swore it couldn't be traced. How could Kelly possibly discover—"
"Lydia Hartley put the idea in Kelly's head, so she investigated."
"Woody hasn't said a word. He seems perfectly normal."
"That's because I intercepted the message. We must act quickly," he said and she nodded, a flare of excitement in her eyes. "Kelly asked Woody to meet her tonight on the Snoopy trail."
"Out in the dark by those rocks, why?"
"She claims to have proof Suzanne was murdered, and she wants to give it to Woody where no one can see them. She sounds really paranoid."
They made small talk for a moment while two of the stable hands carried a sack of feed into the stable.
She turned to him, saying, "Kelly's expecting Woody. Won't it be a delightful surprise when a hunter mistakes her for an elk? I could hide in the trees and blow her away with one shot."
She was a crack shot and a lot of fun during hunting season. Trouble was, killing animals had made her bloodthirsty. She loved seeing an elk or deer hit the ground, mortally wounded, yet not dead. She would stand over the fallen animal, its lifeblood seeping from her bullet wound, enjoying the creature's suffering.
She smiled at him, a sadistic grin that he'd seen once before when Suzanne pleaded with them to call an ambulance. They'd both stood there, smiling. Waiting for Suzanne to gasp her last breath.
"I'll use my Walther. I've been dying to kill someone with it."
He liked her spirit. It was a side of her few people saw. He'd noticed it, of course, early in their relationship. But just like the first time that he'd helped her after she'd botched things, he was going to have to carefully guide her now.
"Kelly is a lot smarter than Suzanne. There are things we must find out before we kill her."
"Agreed, but this isn't a 'we' deal. I am going to do it."
He knew better than to argue with her. Having anticipated her reaction, he intended to play the moment and get her to do it his way. "You'll kill Kelly, but first, you need to find out who else knows. She may have stashed copies of the information she has. Tell her that I've gone to her house, and I'm going to kill the kid and her grandfather if she doesn't tell."
"That's sure to work. You go after them while I take care of Kelly."
He had no intention of going near Farley unless it was absolutely necessary. His plan was to hide along the trail and make certain she didn't screw-up.
"Now are you convinced Woody is never going to run for president?" he asked her. "Even before Logan reappeared, Woody told us he didn't want to run. Telling his biggest backers, the NRA, makes it final, doesn't it?"
"Yes, damn him. I'm never going to live in the White House."
Disappointment rang in every syllable. She adored the glamorous life in Washington. The endless parties, the gossip, and, of course, the clothes. The White House had been her fondest dream.
No denying it, he had always seen himself at the pinnacle of power, too. He had hung around, assuming that one day Haywood Stanfield would be president.
"We no longer need Woody," he told her. "He's useless." Her reaction was a slight widening of the eyes, then the malicious smile he loved so much. "Let's get rid of Woody. He hasn't changed the will yet. We'll be rich.
We won't have to stay in a backwater town surrounded by rocks the color of dried blood."
"We can live together and not care what anyone thinks," he said. "I say we kill Woody, then make sure Kelly gets blamed."
"Kelly has to die, too. I'll take care of her."
"Absolutely, but we need to lure Woody out there as well. That way, we won't be stuck with the problem of transporting a dead body. They'll both be found in the same place."
"How are you going to get Woody out there?" she asked.
"I can electronically alter Kelly's message, so she asks Woody to meet her, but doesn't mention Suzanne's death. You know how much Woody wants a grandchild. He'll meet her."
"Except when he gets there, she'll already be dead."
"Exactly. It'll be a murder—suicide. I'll fix the message so Woody arrives an hour later than Kelly expects. That will give you enough time to get the information out to her."
She slowly ran the tip of her tongue across her full lower lip, relishing the idea the way he knew she would. He detested hands-on encounters like this. Anything could happen, but he had no choice. They had to act quickly.
"You must shoot Kelly in the head, so it looks as if she shot Woody, then turned the gun on herself."
She thought a moment, then asked, "What reason would Kelly have to kill Woody?"
"That's where you and I come in. We're going to swear Kelly was trying to extort money from Woody. We knew all about it and warned him not to meet her. But he insisted on going and we followed. That way, our footprints or any other physical evidence will seem perfectly normal."
"I can cry with the best of them," she assured him. "I'll sob hysterically because we didn't get there in time to save dear, dear Woody."
* * *
Darkness had long since descended on Sedona, when Kelly made her way along the trail to the clearing under Snoopy Rock. Like lonely sentinels the spires of red rocks jutted upward around a rock formation that reminded everyone of the cartoon character, Snoopy. Along the trail, alligator-bark jumpers were interspersed among huge boulders.
Plenty of places to hide.
That's why she had suggested this area when Woody told her about his plan. There was an element of risk, of course, but a small one. She held the flashlight steady with one hand and used the other to pat the small canister of Mace she had concealed in her jacket pocket. Just in case.
Capitalizing on Woody's desire for a grandchild, she had left a message on Woody's answering machine, saying she was pregnant. How she wished it was true! But it was merely another incentive to lure the killer or killers out into the open.
Covering all her bases, Kelly had sent Pop and Rafi to stay with friends in Phoenix. Rafi had been a little calmer this time when he left her. Going to a special place with his abuelo—grandfather—had pleased him.
"This is it," Kelly said, half under her breath as she reached the clearing.
She flicked off the flashlight and let her eyes adjust to the darkness. It was one of the many lessons Logan had taught her. Don't rely on a flashlight that could go out or be taken away.
A sharp blade of the moon cast creamy light on the clearing, sheening the rocks and trees and deepening the shadows. The only way out was down the trail she had just ascended. If she went up the trail another ten yards, she would have to climb Snoopy, a challenge even for expert rock climbers.
It was possible to forge through the rocks and trees surrounding the clearing, but it would be rough going. If there was anyone hiding nearby, he would have had to come earlier and be lying in wait.
Once, the thought would have made her shudder, but not after the ordeal in Venezuela. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Logan had been forced to live with that motto. Sad as it was for a young child, it was true.
"I'm stronger now. I'm ready for them."
She listened intently, trying to pick up the sound of someone coming along the trail or noises in the brush. Hoo-hoo, hoo-hoo. Nothing but the distinctive hoot of a barn owl.
She waited, her back resting against a boulder. Down the trail she detected a flicker of light. Then darkness. Maybe her imagination had kicked in, she thought when she didn't see another flash of light.
She waited, her senses tuned in to her surroundings. A minute later, another spark of light lanced through the trees. Closer now. From her position, she could see flashes, but not the person.
"Logan, your death will not go unpunished," she said under her breath.
Kelly took a mental bet with herself that Tyler would be the one coming up the trail. Slim legs clad in black slacks and petite, white sneakers.
Alyx, not Tyler.
Why are you surprised? Women were more evil, more deadly than men, warned some distant part of her brain. Be careful. Alyx was only fifteen when she or her brother pushed Logan down a ravine, intending to kill him.
"You're just the person I wanted to see." Alyx aimed a revolver at Kelly.
"Where's Woody?" she asked as if she didn't have a clue what was happening.
"Woody sent me. He wants to know exactly what evidence you have."
Did Alyx think she was totally stupid? She was one of the suspects in Suzanne's murder. "What evidence?"
Alyx stopped directly in front of Kelly, and pointed the gun at her temple. "Stop lying, or you're dead."
Kelly gazed down the barrel of the Walther, unfazed. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I asked Woody to meet me here, so I could tell him that he's going to be a grandfather."
"If you're counting on living long enough to have a baby, you'd better tell me exactly what you know."
Alyx was dead serious, so Kelly pretended to he frightened. "I—I bribed someone to get me a copy of the Phoenix coroner's report. Then Logan had it sent to a specialist he knows—knew. The analysis just came back. I have it in my pocket."
"Give it to me—now."
Kelly had no doubt that the second she handed over the dummy report she'd done on the newspaper's computer that she would be dead. Where was Woody? He had promised to follow whoever came up the trail and get the drop on them.
Kelly slowly withdrew the folded piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to Alyx. "Maybe you should read it."
It was a stalling tactic, but it worked. Alyx kept the gun trained on Kelly while she fumbled with the two pages of paper that had been folded down to wallet size to make them harder to open. Awkwardly, Alyx kept the flashlight under one arm as she read the report that had been deliberately written in a small font.
Kelly hoped for a chance to catch Alyx off guard, but the woman kept the gun inches from Kelly's body as she scanned the report. Come on, Woody. Come on. The only sound was the lonely wail of a coyote on a distant ridge.
"Unidentified female? What does that mean?" Alyx asked. Alyx wasn't too bright or she would have figured it out for herself, so Kelly slowly explained, buying time. "Logan didn't want his superiors to know he was using government technicians for personal business. He submitted the data from the Phoenix coroner, but left off Suzanne's name."
"Perfect, just perfect," Alyx said, jamming the report into her pocket. "Then we don't have to worry about the government coming after us."
We. Us. Woody had unconsciously indicated that more than one person was involved. Now Alyx had confirmed it. Where was the second the person?
What was taking Woody so long?
"Who's your partner?" Kelly asked.
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Yes, there's a genius behind all this. You aren't smart enough to have done it alone."
In the backwash of light from the flashlight now in Alyx's left hand, Kelly saw feral hatred in Alyx's blue eyes. "I'm a lot smarter than anyone has ever given me credit for."
"Then you were the one to push Logan down the ravine."
"You bet. I wanted to shove boulders down on top of him, but Tyler wouldn't let me. He thought a snake or a mountain lion would kill him and nobody would be suspicious. If he'd listened to me, none of this wo
uld have happened."
Alyx spun around as a noise came from the thicket flanking the trail. A hulking shadow loomed into view. Woody! Finally! Kelly muffled a sigh of relief, her eyes on Logan's father.
For one heart-stopping second he looked exactly like Logan. The determined, grim set of his jaw and the way he had the gun leveled at Alyx reminded Kelly of his son.
"Woody, what are you doing here?" Alyx cried.
"Drop your gun!"
The catch in his voice betrayed emotions his face didn't reveal. Kelly imagined how upsetting this must be for him. He'd raised Alyx as his own child and given her everything only to discover she was a cold-blooded killer.
Alyx quickly glanced around as if she expected a white knight to come charging out to rescue her. She slowly tossed the revolver onto the ground. Kelly went on full alert, certain Alyx had an accomplice.
Woody kept his gun trained on Alyx as he walked to Kelly's side. He slid his arm around her, silently comforting her. Kelly allowed herself the luxury of leaning against him, pretending for a moment it was Logan.
"Tell us about Suzanne," asked Kelly when Woody didn't say another word. "Did you poison her?"
"She was such a bitch! She deserved to die. Suzanne was always prissing around, dabbling in politics, acting as if she was smarter than the rest of us."
Woody's arm across Kelly's shoulder quivered. She knew this must be hard for him. It might have been a May-December relationship, but he had truly loved her.
"Brucine is not a widely known poison, and it's hard to get. You're not smart enough to know about it," Kelly said, deliberately goading Alyx.
"We discovered brucine together," said a voice from the deep shadows beyond the clearing.
Kelly cursed herself for not picking up on some sound, some movement. Logan would have, but, of course, his father was accustomed to the world of politics and wasn't alert, the way Logan had been.
Benson Williams emerged from the darkness, a gun pointed at Kelly and Logan's father. "You're as good as dead, both of you."
* * *
