by Tami Hoag
“That had gotten worse lately,” she said. “They had started arguing a lot. The more independent Marissa tried to be, the more controlling Milo was.”
Which would have made a free spirit like Marissa only try harder to slip free of her owner’s hold, Vince thought. It would have been a vicious downward spiral in their relationship that would only have exacerbated Bordain’s need for control
In her own way Milo Bordain wasn’t so different in her need for order than Zander Zahn had been. The difference was Zahn had exercised his need for order over inanimate objects. Milo Bordain needed to control the people in her life like pieces on a chessboard.
“I told Marissa to put an end to it,” Gina said. “Why live like that? It was so sick and twisted. She needed to get away from the Bordains. Her career as an artist had taken off. She was making good money. The boutique is doing well. She didn’t need them anymore.”
And that, Vince knew, was what had gotten Marissa Fordham killed.
Milo Bordain would never have been able to tolerate Marissa—the daughter she never had—taking Haley—her make-believe grandchild—out of her life. Her real-life dolls were going to walk away from her real-life playhouse, and she would control them no more.
“And was Marissa going to do that?” Mendez asked. “Tell Milo Bordain it was over?”
“She was going to tell the truth, and that should have been the end of it.”
“And it was,” Dixon said.
“I can’t believe Milo was the one who did that to her,” Gina said, the tears rising again. “How could one woman do that to another woman? And how could she do that to Haley?”
“She couldn’t leave a witness,” Mendez said.
“But she loved Haley! How could she hurt her like that?”
“People like Milo Bordain don’t love the way the rest of us love, Gina,” Vince explained. “They are the center of their universe, and everyone else is just an object that revolves around them. They might think the object is beautiful and that they have to possess it, but in the end it’s just a thing to them.”
The emotion came over Gina then like a wave she couldn’t hold back, and she started to sob, and Vince suspected she was seeing that crime-scene Polaroid he had shown her of her best friend butchered on the kitchen floor.
He wondered if Milo Bordain would replay that same scene in her memory. Probably, but with very different emotions attached.
She was sitting in jail now. ADA Kathryn Worth had made sure there would be no bail. Milo had been caught with knife in hand going after Anne and Haley. No judge was going to dare risk it—no matter how much money the Bordains could throw around.
Milo Bordain would go to prison where she would be the state’s doll, where she would be told what to wear and where to sleep and when to eat. Vince wondered if she would even see the irony in that.
103
“Milo Bordain,” Mendez said as they walked out of the hospital into the sunshine. “Nobody saw that coming.”
“No,” Vince admitted. “The brutality of that murder ... That’s usually something women reserve for unfaithful husbands, not each other. In hindsight, all the pieces fit. She felt like Marissa was hers, bought and paid for, literally. And like any spoiled child, if she couldn’t keep her toy, nobody else could have it either.”
It sounded so straightforward and logical, he thought, when it was one of the most twisted, insane murders he had ever worked. His buddies at the Bureau had already tapped him to come to Quantico and present the case for study.
“The press is already trying to come up with a catchy nickname for her, comparing her to Lizzie Borden,” Mendez said.
“Lizzie Borden was never convicted, you know,” Vince said. “Milo Bordain is going away forever and ever, amen.”
“The Bordains have deep pockets. They’ll try to buy an insanity plea.”
“I don’t care what they try,” Vince said, digging his car keys out of his pants pocket. The wind came up and flipped his necktie back over his shoulder. “A jury gets a load of those crime-scene photos—wherever they put her, they’ll throw away the key.”
“Do you think she’s crazy?”
“In the legal sense? No,” he said. “Not at all. She killed Marissa out of rage. She thought she had killed Haley, getting rid of the only witness. Why she excised the breasts might have been symbolic initially—destroying what was feminine about Marissa—but sending them to herself in the mail was definitely self-serving.”
“Trying to divert attention away from herself as a suspect by portraying herself as a victim,” Mendez said. “That’s some kind of cold blood running through her veins.”
“She’s calculating, not crazy,” Vince said. “That’s why she was so upset when she didn’t get custody of Haley. She figured if she had the child in her control, she would have made certain one way or another the girl would never ID her as the killer.”
“She’s evil,” Mendez said. “That should be a legal term. She’s guilty of being evil. That’s simple.”
“We can look at anything and make it simple,” Vince said. “Even murder. Every one of them can be boiled down to this: Either somebody didn’t get what they wanted, or someone wanted exactly what they got. Disappointment or desire.”
“Or both.”
And the result was ultimately all the same: lives broken and the death of dreams. Marissa’s life had held a wealth of promise, now gone. She would no longer have the chance to make the world a better place by creating art or by raising a wonderful child. Milo Bordain, who had been a driving force in the community and instrumental in raising funds for half a dozen charities, would leave a void in those positions. Mark Foster, a bright light in his field, had given up his future trying to protect a secret. And Darren Bordain, who had known nothing about his lover’s attempt on Gina’s life or his mother’s murder of Marissa, was left emotionally devastated without the two people most important in his life.
Bruce Bordain, who had effectively set this all in motion by cheating on his wife and destroying the dreams of a young woman, would walk away unscathed.
“How’s Anne?” Mendez asked.
A smile tugged at one corner of Vince’s mouth. “Remarkable. Beat up, cut up, but incredible. But I told her if somebody tries to kill her one more time I’m locking her up for safekeeping.”
“She’s had a rough few days.”
“She’s more worried about Haley, but Haley will be all right. Between the two of us, we’ll make sure of it.”
“You’ll adopt her?”
“Absolutely,” Vince said. “We’ll get a jump start on our family with Haley Leone.”
Mendez grinned and clapped him on the back. “Congratulations.”
“I’m a lucky man,” Vince said. “How about you?”
“I heard Steve Morgan moved out. He told Sara he never had an affair with Marissa. Marissa wouldn’t have him because of Sara and Wendy. But he would have done it, and that’s what counts.”
“And what are you going to do?”
Mendez stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged as he leaned back against the car. “Listen when she wants to talk.”
“One step at time.”
“Yeah,” he said ducking his head. “I think maybe I’ll go take one now.”
104
Anne watched Haley playing in the grass with the kittens that had moved into Casa Leone. There was nothing quite like a near-death experience or two to make one appreciate the simple things in life.
“But why did any of this have to happen?” Wendy asked. “Why do all these bad things have to happen?”
They sat side by side on the patio sofa, Anne with her arm around Wendy’s shoulders. Sara had brought her over hoping she could stay for a few hours while Steve moved out of their house.
“I don’t know,” Anne said honestly. “We don’t get to have a nice neat explanation for everything that happens in life—bad or good. I guess that’s what life is: Things happen, and how we deal
them makes us who we are. We can either choose to learn and rise above, or give up and let the bad things defeat us.”
“It’s so hard!” Wendy said, tears springing to her eyes.
“I know, honey, but you’re not alone, and you’ll get through it. You won’t let the bad things beat you,” Anne said, giving her shoulders a squeeze. “I have something for you. Watch Haley. I’ll be right back.”
Anne went inside the house and came back out with a small wooden plaque with an inscription engraved on a brass plate.
“Someone gave this to me last year after ... what happened. And I looked at it every day, and thought about what it means and what it means to me in my life. And now I’m going to give it to you. And I want you to look at it every day, and think about it, and think about what you choose for your life.”
Engraved on the plaque was a quote from Ernest Hemingway’s A Farewell to Arms.
“The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places.”
May you grow strong at the broken places.
“Do you understand what that means?” Anne asked her.
Wendy nodded and hugged her carefully. “I won’t let the bad things beat me.”
Anne smiled. “Why don’t you go help Haley play with those kittens?”
As Wendy went to play with Haley, Vince came out onto the patio and sat down beside Anne, leaning down to kiss her gently.
“How are you feeling, Mrs. Leone?”
Anne looked up into the shining dark eyes of the man she loved. What would the future bring them? Good and bad. The adoption of their first child and the trial of Peter Crane. Their love had been forged in adversity and tempered by another trial by fire. And here they were. Together, a family. Strong at the broken places.
“I feel lucky, Mr. Leone,” she said. “I feel lucky.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tami Hoag’s novels have appeared on national bestseller lists regularly since the publication of her first book in 1988. Her work has been translated into more than thirty languages worldwide. She is a dedicated equestrian in the Olympic discipline of dressage and shares her home with two English cocker spaniels. She lives in Palm Beach County, Florida.
Also by Tami Hoag
Deeper Than the Dead
The Alibi Man
Prior Bad Acts
Kill the Messenger
Dark Horse
Dust to Dust
Ashes to Ashes
A Thin Dark Line
Guilty as Sin
Night Sins
Dark Paradise
Cry Wolf
Still Waters
Lucky’s Lady
Sarah’s Sin
Magic
