“I honestly don’t know. There’s nothing to tie it to the others, but it feels like there should be. This crime scene is totally different from the others. The only things these girls have in common is that they were both students at St. Ansel’s and they were both stabbed.”
“But as you just said, last week’s case fit right in with the others. What are the chances there are two killers in Stone River?”
“It’s hard to believe there could be, and I’m a bit baffled, frankly. I was hoping there’d be something at the scene we could use to tie this to someone, but so far we haven’t found a thing, except for one footprint leading away from the body. Our crime scene people are still working on that; they think they’ll be able to match the size and make real soon. But there was trash around and in the Dumpster, so all that has to be sorted through.”
“Are you still thinking that Dr. Overbeck is involved?”
“Maybe, if we’re talking about the Mulroney case, but not Jacobs. I did try to talk to the chief about putting both Overbeck and your stepbrother under surveillance, but he hit the ceiling. As far as he’s concerned, that case was then and this case is now. I even tried to talk to someone in the DA’s office, but he all but laughed in my face. No one wants to make that connection. Especially with this new one being so different.”
After the call, Nina’d hung up the phone and showered and dressed, and was now finding ways to pass the time until he got there. She figured deadheading the flowers in the pots on Regan’s deck could take a while.
The lights from a car appeared at the end of the drive as she snipped the last of the seed heads from the coleus. The car had already stopped and the driver had gotten out when she realized it wasn’t Wes.
Instinct caused her to hide the small garden snips in the pocket of her jacket.
“Kyle.” She watched him climb the steps to the deck.
“Surprise, Nina.” He looked her over. “You look lovely. Are you on your way out?”
“Yes, I am. Actually, I thought you were my date.”
“Well, I probably should have called first.”
He looked around the parking area and nodded in the direction of the Land Rover. “Oh, good. I see Regan Landry’s car is here. I’ll finally get to meet her. I was such a fan of her father’s.”
He looked back at Nina and said, “That is her car, isn’t it? The white one, the one she lets you drive?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He held out a package. “I really just stopped in to bring you some things.”
“What’s in here?”
“The photographs I told you about, pictures of your dad’s family. And a few pieces of Mom’s jewelry. Some things I thought she’d want you to have.”
“Thank you, Kyle,” Nina replied, feeling just a little confused. “But don’t you think your mother’s things should go to Marcy?”
“Marcy has taken the kids and gone to New Jersey to live with her mother.” His eyes darkened. “I don’t think Mom would approve of any of her things going to Marcy.”
“I take it there’s no chance of reconciliation?”
“Not in this lifetime.” He forced a smile. “So. Do I get to meet your friend?”
“Ah, well, Regan isn’t here right now.”
“So, are we all alone here, Nina?”
A chill went up her spine.
When she didn’t answer, he nodded. “Apparently so.”
He reached down and broke a stem off one of the geraniums.
“Nina, Nina, Nina. Why’d you do it?” he asked softly.
“Why’d I do what?”
“Why’d you take the cigarette from the ashtray?” His eyes had gone dark again. “Who’d you give it to? Powell? Hoping to find a little DNA that might match something?”
He snapped the geranium’s stem and let it fall to the deck. “Stupid, stupid, stupid . . . “
She took a step backward, her hand in her pocket gripping the shears.
“Why did you do that, Nina?” His voice dropped, and he appeared to be close to tears. “I did not want to hurt you. I told Mother, I won’t hurt Nina.” His bottom lip was trembling. “You’re the little sister. I’m supposed to protect you. Big brothers protect the little sisters. I told her that.”
“When did you tell her that, Kyle?” Keep him talking until Wes gets here, she told herself. Make him keep talking.
He seemed not to hear her.
“Your detective friend can test and test away at that old DNA, but he’ll never match it to me.” His demeanor changed. “You think I killed those girls, but nope. Wasn’t me. Not that I didn’t want to. I told her I wanted to, but she wouldn’t let me.”
“Did Olivia kill them? Was my father right about that?”
“Your father.” His laughter was derisive and brittle. “I told Mom, let me take care of him for you, he’s hurt you so much. I wanted to kill him. But she said no, that he needed to suffer. She wanted him to suffer. She wanted him destroyed.”
“So she wanted his girlfriends to die.”
“That was my idea. I said, fine, you won’t let me kill Stephen, let me take away his little toys. Maybe if all his little girlies die, maybe he’ll stop. Maybe he’ll come back to you.” He shook his head. “But she wouldn’t let me do it. She said it was too dangerous for me. She was afraid I might be caught and go to prison. She wanted prison for Stephen.”
“Did she do it herself, then?” Dear God, Nina thought. Did I not know this woman at all? Did I not know either of them?
“Of course not. There was someone else.”
“Dr. Overbeck,” Nina said flatly.
“He’d have done anything for her, anything to keep her happy.”
“He told me he’d been in love with her.”
“Maybe. Actually, I thought he’d hated Stephen as much as he loved her. Maybe more.” Kyle shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter, though, the end result was still the same.”
“Why didn’t she just divorce my father if she was so unhappy, Kyle?”
“Where’s the fun in that?” He laughed again. “Of course, Overbeck had all the fun. And who knew he’d enjoy it so much? I don’t think him having sex with those girls was part of Mom’s plan, and I can tell you, she didn’t like that one bit. But what was she going to do? She’d created a Frankenstein monster, and couldn’t control it.”
“So what now, Kyle?” she asked softly.
“Now, we take a boat ride.” He nodded in the direction of the bay. “I see your friend has a real nice-looking boat out there. What kind of boat is that?”
“I have no idea.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter. I’ll bet it’s nicely equipped, and it looks big enough for a sea cruise. What do you think, Nina? Shall we take her for a spin? I’m wondering if maybe we can’t go right on up the bay and through that canal up near Chestertown, right on out to the ocean. Wouldn’t that be fun?” he smirked.
She couldn’t bring herself to respond. He knew she’d always hated deep water.
“So, Nina—you ever learn how to swim?”
Her answer froze in her throat.
“Well, let’s go see.” He took a small handgun from his pocket and waved it in the direction of the dock. “After you.”
“Kyle . . . “ She tried to think of something to say, but her mind felt frozen.
“Too late to play the helpless little sister card. I can’t protect you now. You should have protected me the way I protected you.”
“Kyle, look, you haven’t done anything.” Her mind began to race. “You didn’t kill anyone, you didn’t hurt anyone. They can’t arrest you for what you haven’t done . . . “
She glanced down at the deck, and noticed the pale red stains on the wood, the footprints he’d made after he’d walked through the water that had spilled out of the pots.
He followed her gaze.
“What can I say? It was my turn.” He smiled. “Why should Overbeck have all the fun?”
“You killed those two
girls. Allison Mulroney and Lanie Jacobs.”
“Was that her name? Lanie Jacobs? I didn’t know.”
He waved the gun again.
“Let’s go, Nina.”
It’s going to be okay, she tried to reassure herself, thinking calm and rational was preferable to panic under the circumstances. This is where the hero is supposed to show up and save the day. Wes is going to pull up any minute now.
And if he doesn’t?
Her fingers clutched the garden snips. They weren’t very sharp, and they weren’t very big, but they were all she had. She’d have to pick her moment, though. She was definitely outmanned when it came to weapons.
She walked ahead of him along the path through the marsh toward the dock, then down the long wooden walk to the very end where the boat was tied, all the while trying to will away the image that popped into her mind of a pirate walking the plank.
She paused at the end of the dock. The boat had drifted to the end of its rope, too far from the dock for her to board, so Kyle grabbed a line and pulled it toward them, keeping one hand on her arm. She racked her brain for something to say, something that would distract him, but she couldn’t work through the fog of fear.
“Come on, step up,” he instructed her.
She did, and the boat rocked slightly under her feet. She spaced them apart so she could get her balance. He held the gun to her back and directed her toward the cabin.
“I don’t suppose you know where she keeps the key for this thing,” he said.
“Sorry, but no.”
“You’re not sorry. You’re not sorry at all.” He started looking around the cabin, over and under everything that moved, his frustration growing. “But you will be . . . “
* * *
On the way out of Stone River, Wes tried Nina’s cell phone three times and Regan’s house phone twice. She’s probably in the shower, he told himself after the first attempt.
If she took a shower, she might have the hair dryer on now, he rationalized after the second. Not knowing how long it took to dry her hair, he gave her ten minutes before trying a third time. When there was still no answer, he pulled over to the side of the road and looked through his wallet for Regan’s number. When he found it, he dialed and pulled back into traffic while listening to it ring and ring. He might have dialed wrong, he told himself. He pulled over and checked the number again. Maybe that one was really a seven. He redialed, but still there was no answer.
I’ll bet Nina’s outside, he reasoned. Maybe she’s even outside waiting for me. He increased his speed and glanced at the clock on the dashboard. He could make it in ten minutes, and he’d actually be on time. He’d told her he’d be there around seven-thirty. It was now sixteen after.
He tried not to think about the body they’d found yesterday, and the family he’d spoken with last night. It had tied him in knots, facing Lanie Jacobs’s mother and father in the station last night. Because they lived in Newark, Delaware, the chief had made the call. When they arrived a few hours later, Wes was just leaving for the night. But he’d passed them in the lobby, and known them by their grief even before they identified themselves to the desk sergeant. In spite of his fatigue, he couldn’t walk by and out of the building, knowing what they were going to be facing over the next several hours. So he turned around, and went back in, and talked with them.
There’d been no consolation for the grieving parents, but he’d stayed with them and offered what support he could. When it was time for them to identify their daughter, he drove them to the medical examiner’s office, and stayed with them through what surely had been the worst night of their lives.
Wes tried not to think about the butchered young body that had been waiting on that cold steel table.
He’d promised the parents he’d find the man who’d taken their daughter, but it was a promise he’d made before. And that time—the last time he’d been so bold—he’d arrested and helped to convict an innocent man.
Of course, as far as the rest of the world was concerned, Stephen Madden had been rightfully convicted. It had been the greatest shock of his life to discover how wrong they’d all been. And he’d still have to prove that to the chief, who wasn’t willing to hear a damned thing where the possibility of Madden’s innocence was concerned. Well, it was a talk they’d have to have first thing Monday morning.
He turned into Regan’s drive, and wondered why Nina hadn’t turned on the lights that illuminated the parking area. He parked next to an unfamiliar Buick, and walked across the darkened deck to the house, which was also dark.
An uneasy feeling spread through him. He went inside, and called Nina’s name.
Silence.
He took the steps to the second floor two at a time.
“Nina? Are you up here?”
Nothing.
He raced back downstairs, and noted the handbag on the kitchen counter. It was one he hadn’t seen before, so he searched through it for the wallet to look for identification. He found a New York driver’s license in the name of Nina Madden.
Where the hell was she?
He went out the back door, calling, then around the front, but there was no answer.
Wes went back to take a closer look at the other car that was in the driveway. A 1987 Buick. He walked around it. The car was in mint condition for a vehicle its age. He took out his cell phone and called into the station.
“Tony, give me a rundown on this license plate, would you? I don’t mind waiting . . . “
He read off the plate number, then waited while the dispatcher ran it through the computer.
“Got it, Detective.” The dispatcher returned in minutes. “The car is registered to an Olivia S. Madden, Stone River.”
“Thanks.”
I should have seen that one coming, Wes told himself. But where has he taken her?
Wes stood in the driveway, acclimating himself to the sounds of the bay at night. There was not so much as a whisper from the direction of the house, but there, from the water, was the faintest . . . something.
He walked down the path through the tall reeds to the bay, his gun drawn, following the hushed lapping of water on wood. Twenty feet out from the end of the dock, a boat drifted on the water. There were lights on in the cabin and across the side and back of the boat, but the motor was off and the boat bobbed up and down ever so slightly with the tide.
On the deck stood Nina, Kyle directly behind her. Her posture was ramrod straight, her head tilted slightly back. Wes stared for several seconds before it dawned on him what was going on. Nina’s arms were behind her back, and if Wes wasn’t mistaken, Kyle was in the process of tying her hands together at the wrists.
Dear God, Wes realized, he’s going to toss her overboard.
Twenty-four
“I suggest you step out of those shoes,” Kyle said as he tugged Nina’s arms behind her back. He added sarcastically, “Unless you think you can tread water better in high heels.”
I’m not going in that water, Nina told herself firmly, her old terror of drowning rising up and threatening to make her faint. I do something now, or I die.
She felt herself begin to shake, and sweat trickled down between her shoulder blades. She willed the shaking to stop. This was no time to be weak. She had less than a minute to come up with something. The hero was not going to arrive to save the day. She was going to have to save herself.
Focus, she demanded. Focus . . .
Okay, he has a gun, I have garden snips. He has a rope, he’s about to tie my wrists together, and I have high heels . . .
It occurred to her then that in order to tie her up, he’d have had to put the gun down.
She turned her head slightly to the right, and saw the small handgun on the table. Instinctively, she turned her body to the left, feigning a loss of balance.
“Take the shoes off, Nina. You don’t need to look hot where you’re going.”
She could feel him begin to tie the first knot.
Another feig
ned wobble to the left. Another step farther from the table, another step between him and his weapon.
“Damn it, hold still,” he growled.
The knot tightened.
Now or not at all. Now or never . . .
She leaned forward momentarily, then thrust herself backward, head first, with all of her strength, smacking him square in the middle of his face with the back of her head.
“Ow! What the fuck . . . !” Kyle stumbled backward, then lunged for the table.
Twisting her wrists to slip off the untied rope, she slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled out the scissors. They weren’t much, but she attacked with a fury, and went straight for the only place she knew was totally vulnerable.
She went for his eyes.
Wes had stripped off his shoes and his jacket and, with great reluctance, his gun. A water-logged handgun would be of no use. He dove off the dock and tried to ignore the chilly shock as he began to swim for the boat. The Chesapeake in November was choppy and cold and dark, but the sight of Nina about to be tied up and tossed into it had left him no choice. As he swam, he planned his game. If she was in the water by the time he reached the boat, he’d untie her, and get her to one of the ropes dangling from the side of the boat where she’d just have to hang on while he pulled himself on board and took care of Kyle. Exactly how he was going to manage to get onto the boat unseen, or what he was going to do once he got there, well, he was going to have to play that by ear. The important thing was to keep Nina from drowning.
The night was split by an ungodly scream.
Jesus God, Wes prayed, what is he doing to her?
He increased his speed, the screams echoing in his ears. When he reached the boat, he pulled himself up onto the narrow diving platform that ran across the back and lifted himself onto the deck.
Nina stood in the doorway to the cabin, wearing a short tight skirt and high heels, a gun in her right hand, and the microphone for the boat’s radio in the other. On the deck, Kyle Stillman sobbed and writhed, blood pouring from between his hands, which were held to his face.
“What took you so long?” she said without turning around.
Without waiting for a response, she pointed to the radio. “You know how to use one of these? I’m trying to call the Coast Guard . . . “
Dark Truth Page 21
