by Barbara Paul
Marian waited until Joanna was still again. She put her hands on her hips, considering. “You three—you’re really something, you know? You’re all three attractive people, you’re all well-to-do, you all have your special gifts … even Jack, in his own way. But you—yours is the greatest gift of them all. And what’s going to happen to it? It’s going to go to waste, that’s what’s going to happen to it. Allowed to atrophy in prison. You’re going to lose it, Joanna! And all because you developed the nasty habit of killing people who get in your way.”
Joanna Gillespie looked at her with unconcealed contempt. “I’ll never lose it, not ever. What do you know about losing a natural gift? Did you ever have one to lose?”
Marian sighed in exasperation. “Well, I don’t think we’ll wait for my partner to get back with the warrant. I’m going to take you in now. As soon as we open the suitcase and find what we’re looking for, we’ll book you. Then you can talk to your lawyer. Come on, Joanna. It’s time.”
The other woman got heavily to her feet, and then did what was for her an unusual thing: she raised her head and straightened her shoulders. The casual, slouchy look was gone; she was holding herself erect, almost proudly.
Marian couldn’t stand it. “Look, I’ve got to make one more try—there’s something that’s bugging the hell out of me. Would you have gone so far as to kill Strode if you hadn’t met Richard Bruce? If you and Jack McKinstry had been the only guests here this weekend, would A. J. Strode still be alive? Joanna, did you kill for a man?”
Joanna Gillespie stared at her for a long moment—and then burst out laughing. It was loud laughter, almost raucous. “A crime of passion? Oh, that’s wonderful.” She laughed again. “Is that a legal defense in this country? I’ll have to ask my lawyer about that one.” The laughter faded, and Joanna’s face turned grim. “Now I’m tired of this, Sergeant. If you’re going to take me in, do it now.”
Well, it was an answer, Marian thought, shuddering at the other woman’s callousness. She told Joanna to hold her wrists together in front of her and put on the handcuffs. They went inside and passed through the dining room where Joanna picked up her purse, the one that did not contain an extra testing kit; she made no move to open it. On their way out, Marian told the guard at the gate they wouldn’t be coming back.
Marian was getting out her keys to unlock the car when a cream-colored limousine pulled up parallel to the space left by the police car Ivan and the others had driven away in. The rear door opened and Myron Castleberry got out; he held the door for another passenger in the car—a tall, attractive woman in her mid-forties, beautifully dressed. That must be Katie, Marian speculated. Come to claim her inheritance.
Castleberry caught sight of her and Joanna Gillespie and steered the woman over toward them. But before he could perform any introductions he spotted the handcuffs and his mouth fell open. He had to swallow before he could speak. “You?” he finally said to Joanna. “It was you?”
Joanna stared off into space.
“Surprised, Mr. Castleberry?” Marian asked without curiosity.
“Yes!” he blurted out. “I thought it was, umm.” He clamped his mouth shut.
Richard Bruce, Marian supplied mentally. “You can relax now. It’s all over.”
Castleberry shook his head wonderingly. “Ah, excuse me … Katie, this is Sergeant Larch. And, umm, Joanna Gillespie. Mrs. Strode.”
“I’m sorry for what’s happened here, Mrs. Strode,” Marian said. “I know this is a terrible time for you. But we won’t be bothering you. There’s a policeman in your television room guarding a suitcase, but as soon as my partner gets here with a search warrant they’ll both be gone.”
“Thank you, Sergeant, that’s very considerate.” Her words were for Marian but her eyes never left Joanna. She stepped in closer, examining the violinist’s face as if trying to memorize it. “You are the one who killed my husband?”
Joanna held her head higher, didn’t answer.
“Thank you,” whispered Katie Strode.
She turned and went through the gate toward the house. Castleberry shot an appalled glance at Marian and hastily followed.
The hint of a smile played around Joanna Gillespie’s mouth. Marian shoved her roughly into the car and drove away.
The long weekend at the House of Strode was over.
About the Author
Barbara Paul is the author of numerous short stories and novels in both the detective and science fiction genres. Born in Maysville, Kentucky, she went on to attend Bowling Green State University and the University of Pittsburgh, earning a PhD in theater history and criticism. She has been nominated for the Shamus Award for Best PI Short Story, and two of her novels, In-Laws and Outlaws and Kill Fee, have been adapted into television movies. After teaching at the University of Pittsburgh for a number of years, she retired to write full-time. Paul currently resides in Sacramento.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 1989 by Barbara Paul
Cover design by Jason Gabbert
ISBN: 978-1-5040-3247-6
This edition published in 2016 by MysteriousPress.com/Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.
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