He wavered. “Answer it. Tell them you set it off accidentally and everything is fine. Screw it up and I’ll shoot you first, and then go upstairs and visit with your daughters.”
Deanna stared him down and reached for the phone. “Hello… Oh, yes, I’m sorry. I set it off accidentally. It was stupid of me… Rubber Duck… Thanks, you, too.” She pressed ‘end’ and laid the phone back on the coffee table.
Troy said, “Now get me my money and I’ll be on my way. Nobody has to get hurt.”
“Why on earth would I give you money?”
“Don’t play games with me, lady. I did the job, just like you asked, now I want my money.”
Before Deanna could form a response to his demand, the lights flickered. Then the house went completely black. A glance out the window told me the streetlights were out, too. The storm had taken out the power. I blinked, willing my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Lightning briefly illuminated the room. Troy hadn’t moved. I prayed Deanna realized she had the advantage now. She knew this house and he didn’t. She needed to move. If he couldn’t see her, he couldn’t shoot her. All she had to do was to stay alive until the cavalry arrived.
I was only a few steps from the front door. The stairs were behind me. I stole over to the door. I waited for the thunder, then closed my eyes and bit my lip as I disengaged the deadbolt and the knob-lock. Either we’d need a fast way out or Blake and Michael would need a fast way in. I backed up the stairs, out of the foyer. I was poised to stage a distraction if help didn’t arrive soon.
Deanna said, “Not only did I not ask you to kill my husband, I specifically told you no one was to get hurt.”
“We both know what you meant.”
Deanna sounded firm, not scared. It must have been the shock. “I can only assume in your messed up criminal mind, you mistook what I asked you to do, which was to follow my husband. Nothing I said can be construed by any reasonable person to have been a contract for murder.”
Troy said, “I’m not gonna stand here and argue with you. Get me the money. Or your little girls are going to grow up without a mommy, but with some interesting memories from this evening’s entertainment.”
Something in the kitchen clattered. They both froze. My ears strained to determine its source. A bolt of lightning revealed the dripping wet figure stepping into the foyer. Troy now stood between the figure and Deanna. He took a step to his right and waved the gun back and forth from one to the other in the dark.
“What I can’t figure out,” the newcomer said, “is why you’re trying to collect payment for a job you didn’t do.”
Stuart Devlin. What was he doing here?
“What is this?” Troy demanded.
Stuart said, “I was there. You didn’t kill anybody.”
FIFTY-ONE
While Stuart had Troy distracted, I came down the steps and backed out of the foyer. I didn’t think Stuart or Deanna had seen me, but the main thing was Troy hadn’t. I circled back through the dining room and into the kitchen. Crouching low, I scanned the family room for Deanna. The lightning flashes were coming closer together, making it difficult for my eyes to adjust to the dark. I shivered in my soaked clothes.
Desperation rose in Troy’s voice, eerily disembodied by the pitch dark. “Look, I don’t know exactly what you wanted done. And I don’t know who the hell this guy is. But I know you offered me twenty-five grand to do something, so you must have the cash handy. Get it,” he growled menacingly.
Thunder crashed over our heads. Lightning lit the room long enough for me to realize that Troy was advancing on Deanna.
Colleen appeared across the room in a silvery-lit aura. “Over here,” she cried.
I darted across the room, bumped into a table and knocked over a lamp. I dove behind a chair just as Troy fired a shot in my direction. My stomach roiled at the pfft sound.
“Who’s there?” Troy yelled.
“Tell him you’re Merry’s ghost,” Colleen said.
My voice sounded enough like hers. He’d fall for it. “It’s me Troy, Merry.” I peered around the edge of the chair.
“Merry?” Lightning flashed. Troy took a step in my direction. Horror fought with wonder on his face.
“Is that the same gun you shot me with, Troy?”
“Merry…baby, I swear I never meant to hurt you.”
“You never meant to roll me in a rug, shoot me in the head, and bury me at a construction site, Troy?”
“It was Kristen. It was all her fault.”
In a flicker of lightning, I saw movement behind Troy. Stuart was creeping up behind him, poised to pounce. Troy must have sensed him approaching. He spun around and raised his gun.
I screamed as the next shot rang out. Stuart fell to the floor. Troy turned and fired again in my direction.
“You can’t kill me twice, Troy.” I laughed wildly.
Thunder crashed and lightning exposed the fear on his face. “What do you want?”
“Leave here. Leave Deanna alone.”
For a moment, all I heard was the rain.
“No,” he said. “I want my money. Now.” Simultaneous thunder and lightning punctuated his demand. Through the strobe of lightning, he moved towards Deanna.
I picked up the lamp I’d knocked over and threw it at him. I missed by a couple of feet, but he turned towards the crash.
The lightning came so quickly now that the room was almost continuously lit.
Standing, Deanna raised a revolver. Hell’s bells, Deanna had a gun?
Troy looked back just in time to register surprise.
“No!” Stuart and I shouted at once.
The blast was so loud I felt it in my teeth.
Troy crumpled to the floor.
A pungent cocktail of nitroglycerin, sawdust, and graphite hung in the air.
Stuart jumped up.
“You’re all right.” I’d been certain he’d had been shot.
Stuart said, “I’m fine. I ducked just in time. He thought he got me.”
Stuart knelt by Troy. I stepped towards Deanna.
“No pulse,” said Stuart.
“Oh my Lord,” Deanna said. “I…I didn’t mean to fire the gun. I only wanted to scare him off.”
I put an arm around Deanna. “Hey there.”
“Hey, Liz.” Deanna sounded deceptively calm, as if her limit for shock had been overdrawn.
Stuart crossed the room. He took the gun from Deanna and tucked it in the back of his pants. “It was a reflex,” he said. “He threatened your children.”
Deanna tilted her head sideways. “Who are you?
He sighed. “There’s no time to explain everything to you now, but I’m your father-in-law. I’m Stuart Devlin.”
“Oh, mmm-kay.” Deanna nodded. She sat down on the sofa. “Adam’s dead. His also-dead father just helped Merry’s ghost distract the now-dead hit man enough for me to shoot him.” She wept loudly. “I didn’t know Merry was dead.”
I sat beside her. “Merry’s fine, Deanna. Troy just thought he hurt her. I pretended to be her ghost to distract him.”
“That was smart.” Deanna smiled through her tears.
“Thanks.” I smiled back at her.
Colleen hovered behind the sofa, arms draped across her sister’s shoulders. “That’s fine, take the credit.”
“Hello, Liz.” Stuart looked at me, and then knelt on Deanna’s other side and spoke softly, looking her in the eyes. “You don’t know me. You have no reason to trust me. But I’m here to help you.”
Deanna rested her head in her hands.
Someone pounded on the front door. “Deanna?” Blake called out.
“In here,” I called out.
Stuart stood. The door slammed open. Blake, Michael and Merry dashe
d into the family room. They all stopped just short of stumbling over Troy and each other as the next flash of lightning revealed the body on the floor.
Merry gasped.
“What the hell?” Michael stared at his father in disbelief.
Stuart handed the gun to Blake by the barrel. “He’s dead. He left her no choice. He threatened Deanna and the girls.”
“Who are you?” Blake took the gun and stepped closer.
“I’m Stuart Devlin. My boat is docked over at the marina. I’m just in from the Virgin Islands for a few weeks. Personal business…” His voice trailed off as he looked at Michael.
Blake spoke into his handheld and called for backup, Doc Harper, and the crime scene techs. “We need more light in here,” he said.
Deanna said, “There are two Coleman lanterns on the top shelf of the pantry.”
Blake jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen. “Merry.”
Deanna looked up at Merry. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”
Merry gave me a questioning look on her way to the kitchen. “I’m glad you’re okay, too, Deanna.”
Blake looked at Deanna. “Are you all right?”
“Y-yes.”
“Whose gun is this?”
“It’s mine,” Deanna said.
Blake scrutinized her. “I see. And you had it handy, did you, when Troy came by for a surprise visit?”
Stuart said, “Her husband was killed only this—”
“I’d rather hear from Deanna, if you don’t mind.”
Merry stepped back into the room. She set the lanterns on opposite sides of the room. The fluorescent light added to the otherworldly ambience.
Deanna gestured towards Troy. “The alarm company called when he opened the door. I gave them the panic code. You guys got here quick.” She looked at Blake.
Blake shook his head, confused. “We never got the call. I guess the alarm company couldn’t get through. The phone lines must have gone out right after they called you. We’ve got trees down on Ocean Boulevard and Palmetto.”
“But then, why are you here?” Deanna asked.
Blake stared at me. “Something just told us you needed help.”
I said, “Where is Sam Manigault? Wasn’t he supposed to be out front?”
Blake rubbed the back of his neck and winced. “Communication failure. He’s in front of Kate Devlin’s house.”
“What took you guys so long?”
Blake gave me a look of exaggerated patience. “Like I said, trees down on Ocean and Palmetto. Live power lines are across the road in two places. We had to drive around the carnage, twice. Deanna, exactly what happened here?”
“I sh-sh-shot h-h-h-im.” Deanna’s face drew together. She covered it with her hands and sobbed.
Michael was still staring at his father. “Why?” he asked.
Stuart sighed. “The answer is quite complicated. Perhaps we could discuss it later.”
“Perhaps.” Michael glared at him. “And then again, maybe it really doesn’t matter why.”
Blake raised his hand in a halt motion. “Getting back to the body on the floor, just for a moment, can I get some agreement please between the parties present at the time as to how Troy Causby came to be dead?”
Deanna had stopped sobbing, but seemed to be in some sort of post-traumatic state. She stared, glassy-eyed, at thin air in front of her.
Blake cocked his head sideways, sighed, and rubbed the back of his neck.
“He broke in,” I said. “He wanted money. He was desperate, Blake. I showed up, then Stuart. Troy shot at both of us. He was coming at Deanna. He threatened to kill her—I heard him—and do worse to the girls. So she shot him. If I had my gun, I would have shot him. He fired three shots, one at Stuart and two at me. The gun is probably underneath him.”
Stuart nodded. “It was as she said.”
“The girls are at Kate’s house,” Blake said.
“Troy didn’t know that,” I said. “And what would have stopped him from going there next? Bottom line, Deanna killed him in self-defense.”
Blake asked, “Any idea why Troy picked your house, Deanna, to break into and demand money? Every law enforcement officer in the country is looking for him. You’d think he’d be trying to get as far away from here as possible. Why did he come here asking for money?”
Deanna breathed deep. “He had some crazy idea—”
“Can’t you shut her up?” Colleen demanded.
I kicked Deanna. “He knew Adam had money in the house, remember? Adam had hired him?”
Blake stared at Deanna for a long moment. “I need this crime scene cleared, now. It’s going to take a while to get the forensic team over here. Why don’t you spend the night at your mother’s house? You can come in tomorrow and I’ll take your statement then. It seems to me you might want to sleep on what you have to say.” He glanced from Deanna, to Stuart, then to me and shook his head.
Deanna nodded. “Mmm-kay.”
Blake turned to me. “Liz, will you and Merry help Deanna get some things together for the night?”
Michael looked at me, but spoke to Blake. “I’ll take Deanna to her mom’s. Then I can drop Liz and Merry off.”
I had a strong suspicion he didn’t plan to drop me off at all. Something told me his plan involved spending the night. With a jolt, I remembered Nate should already be there.
Merry picked up the message Michael was sending me and decided to be helpful. “I’ll drive Deanna’s car and take her to her mom’s house. We’ll figure the rest out.” She stood and gently urged Deanna up.
Blake raked a hand through his hair. “Fine. Michael, would you mind taking Stuart back to the marina? I’ll catch a ride with Clay when we’re finished here.”
A look passed between Blake and Michael that I couldn’t decipher. Blake addressed Stuart. “I’ll need your statement in the morning, too. Nine o’clock work?”
Stuart nodded. “I’ll be there.” He turned to Michael. “I can walk back to the dock. That’s how I got here.”
Michael sighed. “There’s a monsoon roaring out there. I’ll drop you off.”
We stepped out onto the porch. Michael dashed through the pounding rain to open the front passenger door for me. Stuart followed and slid into the backseat. I asked him to hand me my purse, which I’d left on the seat earlier. I slipped my phone out of its compartment and glanced at the screen. I had five missed calls and two voicemails from Nate.
Michael climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door.
I dashed off a quick text to Nate: Where R U?
He replied: On your front porch.
Relief and something else I couldn’t name washed through me. I texted back: Home soon.
Michael gave me a questioning look, but said nothing. He, Stuart and I sat in silence for a moment, listening to the rain hammer the car.
After a moment, Stuart spoke. “If it’s answers you want, you’d better stop by the house. Some of them I can give you, but some of them will have to come from your mother.”
FIFTY-TWO
Either power had been restored, or the outage had been limited to only part of the island. From the street, it looked like every light in Kate Devlin’s house was on. We dashed through the gentled rain: the long-lost father, the angry son, and me, the past and perhaps future girlfriend. Nautical lanterns glowed on either side of the front door. It was as if we’d been expected on that rain-soaked, wind-battered night. Michael unlocked the door, pushed it open, and motioned me inside.
“Michael…” I gave him a pleading look. I didn’t belong there.
“If I took you home now, I’d only have to repeat everything later. What’s the point?”
“Mamma?” he called out. “Grace?”
&nbs
p; “In here, Michael,” Kate answered from the kitchen.
Michael led the way towards the back of the house. He stopped, turned, and spoke softly to Stuart. “Wait here. Let me talk to her first. She’s fragile. She’s had heart problems lately. Seeing you is going to be a shock.”
Stuart snorted. “Fragile my eye. If there’s one thing Katherine Sullivan Devlin is not, it’s fragile.” He pushed past Michael and me and into the big warm kitchen. We followed.
She sat on the sofa in front of a roaring fire, with her back to us as we entered the room. “Grace went home before the storm—” Kate stopped talking midsentence, either hearing, or perhaps sensing Michael was not alone. She turned and looked over her shoulder. Her eyes narrowed, the expression on her face pure hatred.
“Hello, Stuart,” she said coldly. She turned back around to face the fire as casually as if she’d last seen her husband that morning.
What the hell? I felt like I’d stepped into an alternate reality show.
“Katherine,” he nodded to her back. “Michael wants answers. I’ve agreed to give him the ones I have. You’ll have to fill in the rest.”
“What the devil are you doing here to begin with? If you’d stayed away, he could have lived the rest of his life in peace believing you were dead. Just like me.” She curled her feet underneath her and pulled her quilt tighter. “I’ve told people you were dead for so long I’d forgotten it was a lie. You’ve ruined everything.”
Michael stared at her in total shock.
The icy, controlled rage came from a stranger, not Kate Devlin. And one thing stood in stark reality: Stuart had spoken the truth. There was nothing remotely fragile about the creature that inhabited her body. She was fresh out of Southern gentility.
I took a step back. My instincts screamed, Run.
Michael grabbed my hand and tugged me forward. I balked. He reached back, put his arm around me, and pulled me farther into the room.
Kate sighed. “All of you are soaking wet. You’ll drip water everywhere. Michael, get some towels.”
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