“What?”
“I think Gavin may be telling the truth. I remember.”
There was a long pause on the other end of the line.
“What is it you remember?” he asked.
“Don’t you see? That’s why Danny wanted to talk to me the night of the reunion. He was going to the police to tell them everything he knew about what happened to Jimmy Mitchell. But he needed me to say I was with him when the murder took place, so he wouldn’t be suspected. He couldn’t risk the murderer trying to put it all off on him.”
“Lawless has been pretty good at casting suspicion elsewhere.”
“I didn’t think anything of it at the time, of course, but it made me angry when Al came and took Danny away the night of the prom.” She was grateful she was doing this over the phone. Seth couldn’t see her hands shake as she lied. “I got out of the car and I followed them. I saw the person they met, the one that took them down to the river to look for the body.”
“Are you sure?”
“Without a doubt.”
“Are you going to the police?”
“I don’t know yet. I was hoping you could help me decide. I need to weigh my options.”
“Does anybody else know about this?”
“Nobody.”
“All right. What if I pick you up about eight and we go someplace for cocktails?”
“Eight will be fine, but don’t pick me up. I’ll meet you at that new club, Casablanca.”
“All right. I’ll see you then.”
She hung up the phone and looked at her watch. She only had four hours.
Chapter 40
The bar was already smoky when Jennifer arrived twenty minutes late. She spied Seth at a small table near the back, a glass of what appeared to be Scotch on the rocks in his hand. He stood as she approached. She’d opted for a long, flowing, divided skirt and a scooped neck sleeveless top out of the same material. She carried a small beaded purse.
Seth took both her hands and leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “Let me get you something to drink.” He beckoned a waiter who immediately came over.
“I’ll have what he’s having,” Jennifer said confidently, pointing at Seth’s drink.
“Nonsense. Bring the lady a Moroccan Fantasy.”
Jennifer’s face flushed. “I think I know what I want.”
“You’ll love it. It’s a house specialty full of exotic juices. Very flavorful. You can’t come here and not try it.”
So much for Plan A
“Come on,” he told her. “We’ll dance while he makes that up for you.”
He took her hand in an unyielding grip and pulled her onto the dance floor, where he drew her to him. His mouth was at her ear. “So tell me, what did you see prom night?”
“I...I followed Danny and Al. I thought they might be meeting Sheena. Only, they weren’t. They were meeting you.”
She could feel his jaw muscles tighten against her cheek. “Gavin remembers three people coming down to the river to find Jimmy’s body, but he doesn’t know who they were.”
“You think I was one of them.”
She nodded her head.
“I had no reason to hurt Mitchell.”
The music was so loud, she couldn’t have pulled back to talk to him, even if he’d let her. He was crushing the very breath out of her.
“Candy told him about the date rape,” she said. “She had to tell someone, and she was afraid of what Al might do if he found out. She never once thought that Jimmy might have the courage to confront you himself.”
“Did Candy tell you this?”
“No. She’s too frightened. But she did warn me not to date you when you asked me out in high school. She left a note in my locker. I thought it was from Sheena, but when I went through the yearbook and I saw her handwriting, I knew.
“Al didn’t like it that Jimmy was messin’ with his girl. Could be he decided to eliminate the competition.”
“Perhaps, but Al’s dead, Seth, and his murder can’t be passed off as suicide even if Danny’s can. They’ll identify his body eventually. You took care of fingerprints and dental records, but they’ll figure it out.”
He loosened his grip enough that she could breathe. She pulled back and looked at his face. If there was a soul behind those eyes, she certainly couldn’t see it.
“How would you know that?”
She shrugged. “I’ve got friends in the press.”
“What do you want? Money?”
“Maybe.”
“Let’s go back and have our drinks.”
He led her to the table, not letting go of her hand until he pulled out her chair and then pushed her down into it. A large round glass filled with blue liquid sat at her place. She lay her purse next to it.
“Try it,” he insisted, taking his own seat.
She took a sip. It was sweet and fruity with lots of flavors vying for attention. “It’s good.”
“I knew you’d like it.”
Seth reached for her hand and brushed the purse off the table. She bent to pick it up.
“I’m really sorry,” he said. “I always liked you.” He looked almost sincere, and on some level he probably was.
“Drink up,” he told her. “This isn’t the best place to conduct business.”
“I kind of like it here. Plenty of people, plenty of noise.” Too much noise, actually, for her purposes.
“I want a cherry for my drink,” she announced.
“They don’t come with one.”
“Well, they should. Red would be so pretty in all that blue.”
When Seth raised his hand toward a waiter, Jennifer immediately dashed to the bar with her drink. But just as she reached it, she stumbled and practically fell over a man in a wide-brimmed hat sitting on a stool.
“I am so sorry,” she said. Some of her drink had sloshed onto the man’s shirt. Putting down her glass and grabbing a stack of napkins, she began to sponge off his damp shirt.
“It’s not that wet, lady. No problem, really.”
“Okay, but I’m really sorry,” she said, putting down the napkins as Seth came up beside her.
Jennifer then turned to the bartender. “Put a cherry in there,” she said, “and I want one of those little paper umbrellas, too.”
“Give the lady what she wants,” Seth told him.
The bartender added one of each, and Jennifer carried the drink back to the table.
“Are you satisfied?” Seth asked, as they settled back down.
“Totally.”
“Good.”
He drained his glass and ordered another one, while she slowly sipped hers.
“Do you have a figure in mind?” he asked.
“I was thinking maybe three-quarters of a million.”
He shook his head at her. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“If I were kidding, I’d ask for a lot more. I think that’s a reasonable figure for three murders. It breaks down to a quarter of a million a piece, not so much really. Certainly not when compared with what you’ll make all those years you’re not in prison.”
He was studying her intently. She let her eyes flutter, then shook her head.
“Are you feeling all right?” he asked.
She shook her head as though to clear it. “A little woozy, maybe. My head feels like its wrapped in batting. I must be coming down with something.”
“Finish your drink and let’s dance. It’ll make you feel better.”
She downed what was left of her Moroccan Fantasy and let him pull her onto the floor.
“Maybe if I eat something,” she suggested, her words slurring.
“Sure. After we dance.”
She slowed her steps and consciously willed her muscles to relax. Her eyes drifted shut again, and for a moment her head lolled backward. Suddenly, she shook her head and ran her hand over her face. “What’s wrong with me?”
“I think you need some fresh air.” He put his arm around her waist and pulled her towa
rd the door. She turned back toward the bar and made an almost imperceptible shake of her head. Plan B was not her first choice.
Chapter 41
Outside, Seth scooped her up and carried her to his BMW. He opened the passenger side door and slid her into the seat, securing her seatbelt. Making sure her skirt wouldn’t catch in the door, he shut it. Quickly, she undid her purse and retrieved a slender cylinder that she clutched against her palm.
She shut her eyes as he opened the door and climbed in. “You are going to pay me my money, aren’t you? You could consider yourself a supporter of the arts.” She chuckled and then burrowed into the leather seat.
“Sure. Whatever you want.”
As he backed out of the parking space, she yawned broadly and then excused herself. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“Not far.”
He pulled out and headed up Zebulon Road. As soon as they crossed over the interstate, they’d be out of the developed area.
“Good. I don’t want to go way off. You ruined my prom. You shouldn’t have done that. My mama paid a lot of money for that dress. You ruined Sheena’s reunion, too.” Her words were more and more garbled. “Tell me why. Please, please, please, Seth. Tell me why?”
“You know why.”
“Yes, but tell me. I want to hear you say it.”
“Like you said earlier, Danny was going to the police. After he heard Lawless’s song, he felt sure Mitchell was dead and that there had been a witness. He needed corroboration from you because I was an assistant district attorney, and he was afraid of what I might do. He told Al, hoping Al would back him up. But Al told me. Unfortunately, Danny didn’t see things our way. If he’d had any evidence, I suspect he would have turned me in back in high school. As it was, he could never be exactly sure what had happened down at the river between Mitchell and me.”
“What about Al?”
“Al panicked when he saw Danny dead. He didn’t buy suicide, so he and I had to have a talk. We went out in the woods and...”
She licked her lips and let her head drop farther down against the seatbelt. “How’d you get the body to that abandoned house?”
“Wrapped it in a tarp and put it in the trunk.”
“You didn’t mean to kill Jimmy, did you, Seth? What did he threaten you with?”
“He said he’d see to it that charges were pressed.”
“They couldn’t have convicted you.”
“No. But that wouldn’t keep the colleges where I was accepted from withdrawing their offers of admission and scholarships.”
Jennifer opened one eye and checked. No traffic. They were getting too far out. She sat bolt upright and sprayed pepper spray directly into Seth’s face.
“You bitch,” he choked, slapping the cylinder out of her hand. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
His face had gone beet red, his eyes swollen almost shut. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he gagged.
The car swerved and Jennifer grabbed the wheel. Somehow she managed to force her leg past the gearshift and into the driver’s side of the floorboard between Seth’s knees. She stomped on Seth’s foot resting on the brake pedal. He howled just as she pulled the steering wheel hard to the right. They swerved off the road, stopping abruptly short of a large tree, first throwing them both forward, and then backward with so much force she was amazed the airbags didn’t activate.
She struggled with her seatbelt, but Seth, his face splotched, his eyelids puffed up like balloons, covered the latch with his fist. His other hand shoved a gun into the soft flesh of her throat. He didn’t have to see to blow her head off. “What happened? I saw you drink it.”
“I switched drinks with the guy at the bar.” The gun dug further under her jaw. “You can’t kill me here,” she warned.
“Why not?’
“You’ll get blood all over your car. You’ve committed three murders and left no evidence. Kill me now, and they’ll have more than enough to convict you.”
“What kind of game are you playing?”
“No game. We needed a confession and we got it.”
He squinted at her, and she watched his gaze travel down her throat. Her top had shifted enough to reveal a tiny microphone clipped to her black bra.
“You’re recording this?”
“Every word.”
He let go of the seatbelt and jerked the microphone loose, pulling the cord out with it and burning her skin. She released the seatbelt as she felt the wire pop loose from the recorder taped to her leg. He snapped it out. “I ought to wrap this cord around your neck….But like you said. Not here.”
He threw the wire into the backseat and kicked open the driver’s side door just as she managed to open her door latch. He swung back around and grabbed her right shoulder with his free arm and dragged her across into his seat, the gun back under her jaw and the gearshift badly scraping her ribs. “Just let me get you out of here.”
She knew that once they were free of his car, he would kill her. He wouldn’t wait to drag her into the trees. She only had this one chance. Both his hands were full. Both of hers were free.
She felt down through her pocket, the one she’d slashed open. The tape recorder containing Seth’s confessions was strapped to her thigh. Her hand closed on an object taped just above it. She slipped it out of the leather and drew her hand back out.
All of the self-defense moves she’d ever been taught flitted through her mind, but Seth was too strong for her, and the car left no room to maneuver.
Her foot tangled in the seatbelt as he tugged her further across. It was never supposed to get this far. She had never planned to leave the parking lot of the restaurant. Where the heck were they?
Somehow she managed to twist sideways as he pulled her the rest of the way out of the car, her feet hitting the dirt. But she couldn’t get her balance. She knew if she were going to stop him, she had to do it now. She twisted and rammed the gun barrel into his side, just above his waist, and fired.
Seth squealed and let loose, horrified as blood spilled over his shirt and trousers. Jennifer fell roughly to the ground.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded.
“I’ve got seven more shots,” she told him, pulling the gun back up. “The next one will be further over, where something more vital is located.”
Clutching his side with one hand, he pointed the gun directly at her head.
“Let it fall,” a man’s voice said. She hadn’t had time to notice the green Saturn that had pulled up behind the BMW. Ben Underwood stood, in full uniform, not six feet from them.
Seth jerked back. How much he could see out of those eyes was anybody’s guess.
“You squeeze that trigger and you’ll be dead before the bullet leaves the chamber,” Ben told him.
Seth looked down at her with such hatred that, for a moment, she was afraid he’d kill her anyway. But, instead, he dropped the gun onto the ground.
Gavin Lawless kicked it away.
“Took you long enough,” Jennifer grumbled.
“Got hung up at the light. What’d you expect us to do? Break the law?”
Chapter 42
“Geez, Jennifer, I can’t believe you actually shot Seth,” Leigh Ann gushed. Then added, “With a gun.”
“It’s hard to shoot someone without one,” Gavin pointed out as Jennifer shuffled them into her apartment. They had to leave for the airport in little over an hour.
“Did Johnny teach you to shoot like that?”
“It wasn’t as if I could miss. The barrel was pressed against his skin.” She shuddered. She couldn’t bear to think about hurting someone, even someone who was about to kill her.
“Thanks for stopping by,” she added.
“I was hoping you’d come to Jimmy’s service,” Gavin said.
“I would have, but I don’t do funerals well. I turn into a blubbering mess and it becomes totally embarrassing for everybody involved. Besides, I’d like to hold onto that Jimmy-i
n-Vegas image.”
“What?” Gavin looked confused.
“Nothing. Just Jennifer being Jennifer,” Leigh Ann explained.
Dental records and a healed fractured femur confirmed that an unidentified skeleton that had surfaced during the flood and was later reburied was indeed what remained of Jimmy Mitchell.
“I take it your deal with Phoenix fell through,” Jennifer said.
Gavin shook his head. His manner had changed. He seemed more relaxed, a little less haunted. “I’m just not ready to come back to Macon yet.” His arm was tight around Leigh Ann’s shoulders, as if he wasn’t quite ready to leave either.
Tears glistened in Leigh Ann’s eyes. She sniffed and then swatted at her cheeks, but her smile was firmly in place. “He’s going back to California where he can work and still see his therapist.”
Jennifer nodded. Life should be simple, but it never was. Gavin would leave and Leigh Ann would go back to writing her books, making happy endings for her characters while she waited for her own.
“Did you see the write-up Sam gave you in the Telegraph?”
“Yeah.” Jennifer grinned. “How about that? Front page stuff. ‘Mystery Writer Solves Triple Homicide.’ He even used my publicity photo.”
“I think you ought to send copies of it when you submit your work to editors. Gives you more credibility.”
Not a bad idea.
“How’s the ankle?” Gavin asked.
“Not bad. The bruise on my side where Seth dragged me across the gearshift is giving me some trouble, but I’ll be all right.”
“You poor thing. I can’t believe you took him on like that,” Leigh Ann said.
“I didn’t mean to.”
“You weren’t supposed to leave the club,” Gavin reminded her.
“I know, but he wouldn’t say anything that we could use against him. I was the only one talking. He just threw in some noncommittal comments every now and then. As it was, he could have used the tape against me, probably even charged me with blackmail if he’d known I had it—that is, if the words were intelligible. It was too noisy in there. I didn’t really expect him to pick me up, throw me in the car, and take off out of the parking lot so fast. Where were you guys anyway?”
Dying to Remember Page 17
