On the Edge (The Gregory Series - Last Book)

by SUE FINEMAN

  “I don’t know, Anne. It’s for Olivia, but I don’t want to put it in her name or she’ll sell it and spend the money and I’ll end up with her on my doorstep again. If she finds another man to keep her, I might end up living there myself, so keep that in mind when you’re looking.”

  “Okay, I’ll see what’s available.”

  “Big closets, nice view, near shopping, and find one that’s available right away.”

  Baylee took her suitcase and tote and walked into the house. The kitchen counters were covered with dirty dishes. Clothes were strewn over the sofa and floor in the family room, and Baylee didn’t even want to see the bedrooms. Had Olivia taken possession of the entire house? Could the woman live in a small condo? Could she learn to clean up after herself?

  The bed in the master bedroom had been slept in, and Olivia lay out by the pool, so Baylee found herself another bedroom and unpacked her things. It wasn’t worth fighting over who got the bigger bedroom, and Baylee wasn’t about to clean up after that leech. If Olivia wanted to stay here for a few days, she’d have to clean up after herself.

  The casual furniture in this house might suit Chance and his family. Since Baylee intended to sell the house, she wouldn’t need the contents. She’d save some things for the condo and have the rest packed and stored until Chance found himself a new house.

  She walked through the house, and the more she saw, the more she liked the furnishings. The Houston house was more formal, perfect for entertaining. This place was designed for relaxing. Chance might want to replace all the furniture with a different style after he got his insurance settlement, but this would get him started.

  Baylee sat in a deep armchair in the family room overlooking the lake, propped her feet on the matching ottoman, and called Bay’s attorney in Houston. “I need a will, and I don’t want to wait until Bay’s estate gets through probate. I want to give half the value of the estate to charity and the other half to Chance Gregory and his children. Chance and Anne Smith can choose the charities as long as half goes to various battered women shelters.”

  “All right, Miss Patterson. I’ll get right to work on that. Would there be anything else?”

  “Yes, one more thing.” She told Mr. Glaser what she wanted to do with Olivia. “I want her to sign a contract saying she’ll maintain the condo and that no one else will live there with her. We’ll set her up with a bank account and she’ll get a monthly allowance for food and personal expenses. I’ll pay the condo fees and utility bills and taxes and insurance. If she marries or moves out, the monthly allowance stops and I get possession of the condo. Since I’m furnishing the condo, she’s not allowed to remove anything except her clothes and personal items.”

  “You want this to be like a trust fund?”

  “I don’t want anything put in her name, nothing she can cash in at some point. The woman can’t handle money.”

  “No, she certainly can’t. Cody gave her a monthly allowance years ago, but when he died, she took control of the entire inheritance. It was a sizeable amount.”

  “I know.” It should have supported her forever, but it only lasted five years.

  “This is a generous thing to do, especially in light of the way she handled herself at Bay’s funeral service and at the house after the service.”

  “I’m not doing it because she deserves it. Olivia Wheeler is the most helpless woman I’ve ever met. Someone has to take care of her, and if Cody were still alive, I’m sure he’d do it himself.”

  “Yes, he would. I’ll draft up a contract and have a courier bring it to the house.”

  “Have your secretary e-mail it to me.” Baylee rattled off her e-mail address. “It’s faster, and I’m not in Houston. I’m out at the lake house.” She was about to hang up when she thought of something else. “Oh, Mr. Glaser. One more thing. As long as Olivia lives off me and my money, I want her to do at least four hours of community service a week. Let her see how the other half lives. Maybe it’ll give her a new perspective on life.”

  She hoped she wasn’t making a mistake. Olivia wasn’t Miss Congeniality, not even close, but Baylee felt responsible for her, as if the woman-child came with Bay’s inheritance.

  Olivia walked into the house. The minute she saw Baylee standing in the family room, she froze. “How did you get in?”

  “I have a key. I own this house, and if you’re planning to stay here, you can clean up after yourself. First, the towel and whatever else you took outside, and then, after you get dressed, you can clean up the mess you made in the kitchen.”

  She flapped her hand. “That’s why we have a cleaning crew.”

  “The cleaning crew has enough to do without picking up after you.” Baylee paused for a few seconds and then brought it all into perspective. “Let me put it another way. If you don’t clean up after yourself, I’ll call the police and tell them you broke into my house.”

  Olivia gasped. “You wouldn’t dare!”

  Baylee lifted her chin and stared her down. Handling her harshly after Bay’s funeral had made a lasting impression on Olivia.

  Without another word, Olivia walked outside and carried in her towel and glass. She dressed in shorts and a T-shirt that left a couple inches of flabby flesh exposed around her middle. Girls and young women with toned bodies looked cute dressed like that. On Olivia, it looked sad.

  Olivia loaded the dishwasher and wiped down the counters. “Is that good enough?”

  “Yes, that’s good enough. After you pick up the clothes you left all over the house, we’ll find something to eat. And then we’re going to have a long talk about the future.”

  “There’s nothing here to eat. I had a few groceries delivered the day I got here, but I ran out of money.”

  That must have been hard to admit. Olivia looked a lifetime older than she had before the funeral. She seemed defeated. Being broke and on her own had done that to her.

  “Have you ever worked at a job?”

  “When I was married to my second husband, I did some charity work, mostly fund-raising, but I didn’t earn any money. Can I live here?”

  “Live here and do what? How do you plan to eat?”

  She didn’t answer.

  Baylee looked in the refrigerator and found it nearly empty. “Is there a grocery store nearby?”

  Olivia nodded. “And a Chinese restaurant that delivers, and a pizza place, and several nice restaurants.”

  “Why don’t we have Chinese tonight and go shopping in the morning?”

  Olivia’s face brightened, and Baylee wondered how long she’d gone without eating. “You call and order something. Whatever you like, but nothing too spicy, okay?”

  “Okay. Where’s Chance?”

  “In Caledonia with his family.”

  Olivia’s mouth dropped open. “He’s married?”

  “No. His ex-wife was murdered, and he has three kids. Now the killer is after him.” Baylee blew out a sigh. “And me.”

  “Why? What did you do?”

  “Chance helped the killer’s ex-wife get a divorce. He’s an attorney. I’m a newspaper reporter, and I wrote some not-so-nice things about the killer after he beat his wife half to death. That creep only spent five years in prison. The FBI is after him now, and I hope to God they catch him soon.”

  Olivia’s black eyes had widened, taking over her face. “I hope you didn’t bring him here.”

  “Me, too.” She’d been watching the rearview mirror on the way here, and she didn’t see anyone following her.

  Pointing at the phone, Baylee said, “Call and order something to eat.”

  She walked into the bedroom where she’d left her purse. She had a lot of cash in there. Better hide some of it in case Olivia decided to help herself. It seemed crazy to have to hide money from Cody Wheeler’s daughter, but Olivia was broke and desperate.

  While they waited for their dinner to arrive, Baylee checked her e-mail. Her editor had sent her a note asking her to continue her series on Jack Blackburn. She
could quit her job now, but she hated to stop in the middle of something. This series was important to her. It had earned her a spot on the front page, but it was more than seeing her name in a place of importance. She wanted readers to know how it felt to be on a killer’s ‘list,’ to be looking over her shoulder, wondering how much longer she had to live.

  Her cell phone rang. When she answered, Chance asked, “Baylee, where are you?”

  “At the lake house with Olivia. Why?”

  “Hudson lied. He said he’d have an agent keep an eye on you, but they’re only watching this house, Mom’s house, and your house in Houston. I want you to call Anne and have her get some guards out there right away.”

  “Superman is too far away to do me any good?”

  “Way too far. Will you call Anne?”

  She sighed. “Yes, okay, I’ll call Anne.”

  “Good. Everything okay there?”

  “So far. Olivia is behaving herself…well, kind of behaving herself.”

  “She’s still there?”

  “She has no money, Chance. The refrigerator here is empty and she’s going hungry. Anne is going to look for a condo, so I can move her out of here.”

  “That’s crazy. You can’t—”

  “I can do whatever I want.” She heard the doorbell ring. “Oh, Chance, I have to go. Our dinner just arrived.”

  “If you don’t call Anne, I will. Call her before you eat.”

  “Yes, sir...Chance?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for calling.”

  “You’re welcome. I miss you.”

  “I miss you, too.”

  God, how she missed him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Baylee handed Olivia some money and asked her to pay for the food while she made a quick phone call. “Anne, I hate to ask for more guards, but Chance is worried.”

  “Is he there with you?”

  “No, it’s just me and Olivia.”

  “I can’t do anything until tomorrow morning, unless you want me to divert some of the guards from the house in Houston.”

  “No, don’t divert them.” She didn’t want anything to happen to Edwin and Joe or to Bay’s house, and she didn’t have much confidence in the FBI, especially Special Agent Hudson.

  “Tomorrow morning should be fine, Anne. I can’t imagine how Jack Blackburn could find me here, but I don’t want Chance to worry about me.”

  Baylee and Olivia sat on the sofa in the family room, bare feet propped on the coffee table, eating their dinner. To Baylee’s surprise, Olivia had made a pot of tea, and she didn’t once complain about the food.

  “Olivia, you’re actually a tolerable person when you’re not whining.”

  She picked up an egg roll. “I don’t whine.”

  “Oh, yes you do, and it’s not becoming.”

  The wind whipped up, thunder rumbled, and the sun quickly disappeared behind a wall of angry black clouds. Baylee set her plate aside and turned on the television to get a weather report. The message across the bottom of the screen shouted severe storm warnings in big black letters on a rolling red banner. A list of counties in the warning area followed.

  “Montgomery County. That’s us,” Olivia said.

  Lightning split the sky nearby and Olivia screamed. “I hate storms,” she whined.

  Baylee didn’t mind rain, but this was more than rain. A gust of wind caught the umbrella on the patio and lifted it and the table, and then dropped them. She ran outside to put the umbrella down, and the wind nearly tore it out of her hands. The clouds were black as night, and everything not nailed down was snatched away by the wind. She snagged the chairs blowing across the patio and tossed them into the pool. Better in the pool than blowing through a window.

  Seconds after she came back inside, the television went off. They’d lost power.

  “Let’s get this mess cleaned up and see if we can find some candles and flashlights.” She didn’t know this house well enough to find her way around in the dark, and it was quickly growing dark outside. They should have a portable radio around here somewhere, but even if they did, the batteries were probably dead.

  Baylee loaded the dishwasher and put the leftover food in the refrigerator while Olivia lit candles in the kitchen and family room. It wasn’t quite dark outside, but the clouds had blocked out the evening light, and deep shadows filled the house.

  Thunder rumbled and lightning cracked the sky. Baylee stood in the window and watched the sky over the lake light up from nature’s violent show of power. She prayed there wasn’t a tornado in those clouds.

  Olivia huddled in the corner of the sofa hugging a pillow, and every now and then she’d jump or yell, “Enough already” or “Stop,” as if that would prevent the storm from raging outside.

  Cody might have had a generator installed for times like this, but it didn’t matter, because Baylee wouldn’t know the first thing about making it work. She didn’t even bother to ask Olivia. What would a whining drama queen know about such things?

  It was fully dark when the rain began. It came down in waves, pounding against the house so hard it sounded like they were being attacked. At least the wind had died down, and the thunder and lightning had moved away.

  Olivia stood. “I’m going to bed. Too bad there aren’t any men here. It’s a good night for cuddling.” She took the candle from the coffee table in the family room and walked through the dark house toward her bedroom.

  Yes, it was a good night to cuddle, but the only man Baylee wanted to sleep with was Chance Gregory, and he wasn’t here. She took the candle off the kitchen counter and walked down the hallway toward her dark bedroom, praying the power would come back on soon. Would the alarm system work without power? Probably not.

  What was she doing here? Why was she taking care of a woman she couldn’t stand to be around? And why on earth did she walk away from Chance? As long as they were together, she had hope she could somehow worm her way into his life for good. Now that hope was gone, evaporated into the air in the beautiful Texas hill country, in Caledonia County.

  Still spooked by the storm and missing Chance so much it hurt to breathe, Baylee changed into a sleep shirt, blew out the candle, and crawled into bed. Before she could get to sleep, something scraped against the house outside the bedroom windows. Olivia called, “Baylee, what’s that?”

  “I don’t know.” She reached for the candle, but she’d forgotten to bring the matches with her, and they never did find any flashlights that worked. There was probably one in the Jaguar, but she wasn’t about to go exploring the garage in the dark.

  The sound of glass breaking came from down the hallway, in one of the other bedrooms, and Baylee’s flesh crawled. That wasn’t from the storm. She bolted out of bed and picked up the phone by the bed. Dead.

  Olivia rushed into Baylee’s bedroom. “I’m scared,” she whispered.

  “So am I.” Where had she left her cell phone? In the family room? Could she find the family room in the dark? She grabbed Olivia’s arm and whispered, “Family room.”

  Olivia led the way, and after groping around in the dark, Baylee found her cell phone on the table by the chair she’d sat in earlier. She punched in 911 and handed the phone to Olivia. “Tell them where we are and what’s going on. And hide.”

  “Where?”

  “Lock yourself in the powder room.”

  Olivia disappeared with the phone, leaving Baylee alone. A flashlight beam streaked across the wall in the bedroom hallway, and Baylee grabbed the little statue off the table. She unlocked the French doors overlooking the pool and pushed them all the way open, hoping their intruder would think they’d escaped from the house, and then she crept toward the front door and opened it. It blew out of her hand and banged against the wall. The sound echoed through the quiet house, and Baylee knew the intruder had heard it. She felt along the wall for the coat closet, eased inside, and quietly pulled the door closed.

  A second or two later, she heard a man whisper, “
Damn bitch. Where in the hell did she go?” He was close.

  Too close.

  The closet doorknob turned under her hand, and Baylee pushed herself back into the coats. As he opened the door slightly, a faint siren sounded in the distance. The man let out a stream of profanity.

  Baylee heard something thud, and she peeked out to see what he was doing, but it was too dark to see anything. A wind gust from the open front door caught the closet door and blew it all the way open. Before she could catch it, a man’s hand reached in, grabbed her by the hair, and yanked her out of the closet. He punched her in the face and she fell, hitting her head on the marble floor and her side on the statue. She snatched up the statue. It was the only weapon she had, and if she didn’t fight back, he’d kill her for sure.

  Before he could hit her again, she ducked to the side and, with both hands, jerked the statue up between his legs as hard as she could. He screamed, and she scrambled away toward the kitchen, shaking so hard her legs didn’t want to hold her.

  The patrol car pulled up a minute later, but the man who’d attacked her was gone. She knew who it was. She’d recognize that voice anywhere.

  “Are you here alone?” the officer asked.

  “No, Olivia Wheeler is here somewhere, probably locked in the powder room with my cell phone. I think the intruder ran away.”

  “Do you know him?”

  “Jack Blackburn. They call him Black Jack. He’s wanted by the FBI for kidnapping and by the Tacoma, Washington, police for two murders. I’m next on his list.”

  “Black Jack. That explains the card on the front door.”

  The officer’s flashlight played over the front door, and Baylee saw the jack of spades stuck there with the point of the knife. That must have been the thud she’d heard, the knife hitting the door. It was her second warning, the second time he’d told her what he intended to do to her.

  The officer coaxed Olivia out of the bathroom. She was crying, sobbing in terror, and Baylee know just how she felt. Seeing the knife in her pillow in Tacoma had scared her, but fighting with a killer was absolutely the most terrifying ordeal she’d ever experienced. Her hands were still shaking.