Hell. Was it too late to back out now? Yes. She answered herself. Backing out now would be inexcusably rude. Anyway, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Who could say? A few drinks and maybe she’d forget all about Vaughn and his gorgeous face and his insincere charms.
For all she knew he was a psycho killer anyhow.
She was just finishing up her little pep talk, feeling her spirits perk up just a bit, when a sound at the back door caught her attention. “Hello,” she said. “Is somebody there?”
An eerie silence answered. “Hello,” she said again.
Still nothing.
She made her way toward the rear of her apartment, where the door leading to the back porch abutted the entrance to her bathroom. She’d turned off the lights in there when she’d finished getting ready, and now the early evening sun made swaying shadows through the heavy drapes. Her breath caught in her throat, every squeak of the floor as she stepped on the wooden planks amplified in the growing dark. She reached the bathroom and turned on the light. The back door stood open, not five feet away. Her pulse spiked. “Hello.”
Pain split the back of her head, and her world went dark.
Her head throbbed. Bexley felt that first, aware of the pain even before opening her eyes. She felt the restraints next, biting into her wrists and ankles. She laid on something flat and hard. Confusion and pain gave way in minutes while the events leading up to her losing consciousness came back. She’d been about to leave to meet up with Valerie when she heard the noise, saw the open back door, and felt something hit the back of her head.
Valerie. She would be worried when Bexley didn’t show up at the Hill. People might already be looking for her. Her spirits lifted, and she opened her eyes.
“Oh good. You’re awake.”
“Valerie?” A sick feeling worked its way through her stomach. She tried to swallow, only then aware of the burning sensation around her throat. It hurt when she swallowed, a terrible pain like her throat was swollen, like someone had been choking her.
“How did you get into my apartment?”
“Oh good grief, that’s what you want to ask me? Don’t you remember the night of Nan’s dinner party? When you lost your keys? And then they mysteriously reappeared the next morning?”
“That was you?”
“Man, are you ever dense.”
Valerie stood with her back to Bexley, near a table off to the side, but Bexley could see she held a very large knife. Fear ricocheted to the front of her emotions. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Why are you doing this?” The words croaked out of her, as she processed her current situation.
“You’ve moved in on my husband situation. That’s why.”
She didn’t understand at first. “What are you talking about?”
Valerie moved away from the table, coming to stand in front of Bexley. She towered above her. Mania lit her eyes, a glimmering excitement divorced from reality. Bexley felt sick — really sick — like she might throw up and pass out all at once. She closed her eyes, willing her world to stop spinning.
“You know, this is really no fun for me if you’re just going to pass out the whole time.”
“What are you talking about?” Bexley opened her eyes, barely getting the words out, surprised at how raw her voice sounded. “I didn’t move in on your husband. You’re not even married.”
“Well, of course not.” Valerie rolled her eyes. “How am I supposed to have a husband with all you women running around breaking up my marriage?”
“I didn’t break up your marriage.” It was as if Valerie had lost her mind. “I didn’t even know you when you and Linwood got divorced.”
“I know that.” Valerie shook her head, staring at Bexley like she was the one who’d lost it. “Those tramps Hannah and Annie did that. Luring Linwood away from me, sleeping with a man they knew was married.”
“Didn’t you do the same thing?” Bexley asked. “Wasn’t Peggy LeRoux still married to him when you got pregnant?”
“Shut up!”
Valerie’s slap landed with a sting across Bexley’s cheek. She tried instinctively to cover her face, only to be reminded of the ties holding down her hands.
“I told you I didn’t know he was married!” Valerie screamed in her face, her features contorted into an ugly snarl. “And anyway, Peggy was fooling around on Lin too. And she was never going to have any trouble getting another husband, because she’s part of that in-crowd. A true Grosse Pointer. She was always going to be just fine!”
“So are you,” Bexley said. She thought of Valerie juggling all those shopping bags the day she ran into her outside the Village Palm. “Linwood gives you plenty of money. If you started saving and investing now and got a job, you could be set up really well by the time Lindy graduates.”
“I don’t want to get a job!” Another slap landed on Bexley’s face. “I want to sit at the country club drinking wine and working on my tan, like Peggy and Carolyn and Sally. That’s the life I signed up for when I married Lin, and I fucking want it back!”
Bexley’s face stung and the back of her head throbbed. If she could manage it at all, she’d reach up and slap Valerie back. “You can get another husband.”
“I’m trying to get another husband!” Valerie yelled so loud her face turned red. “I can’t move Lindy out of Grosse Pointe, or she will never be a true Grosse Pointer. And do you have any idea how many good-looking, rich, available men there are here?”
“No,” Bexley said. “But please stop screaming.”
“I’ll tell you how many.”
Valerie, screaming still, paced back and forth at the side of the table Bexley was tied to, but after a minute or so, she stopped and bent over, bringing her head down to Bexley’s until their noses nearly touched. Her breath blew hot on Bexley’s face and she wanted to gag.
“There’s Linwood and there’s Vaughn. But I can’t get Linwood back or get Vaughn interested in me with people like you and Sophie and Emma running around.”
“You killed them,” Bexley said. It was the obvious conclusion she’d been trying not to reach…trying to pretend her name wasn’t going to be the next one in the Detroit News.
Poor Nan. She was going to hate writing this story.
“Of course I killed them.” Valerie straightened up, looking and sounding calm again. “Those whores Hannah and Annie needed to be taught a lesson. And there was no way I was going to let that bitch Katherine take my place at the country club. And of course, I need to get the competition for Vaughn out of the way. But you…you should be the last one.”
Bexley struggled against the zip ties holding her down on the wooden table, sure now if she didn’t get away, Valerie was going to kill her. Hard plastic dug into her skin. She struggled harder. “What about Eleanor? You seem to have forgotten about her.”
“There’s really no point trying to get loose,” Valerie said.
Bexley turned her head from side-to-side, taking in what she could see of her surroundings. Narrow concrete walls blocked her in on both sides. The ceiling was fashioned from dust-caked tin squares, with a bare bulb hanging down. Wooden barrels had been stacked against one wall. They looked as old as the metal ceiling and smelled like stale vinegar. “What is this place?”
Valerie looked around, raising her shoulder. “It’s a tunnel. It leads from my wine cellar to the basement of the Yacht Club.”
“A tunnel?” Keeping Valerie talking right now seemed like her best bet to distract her away from what she meant to do. “Why is there a tunnel in your wine cellar?”
“Prohibition, silly.” Valerie smiled when she said it. “Bootleggers would bring booze across the lake from Canada, unload it at the dock outside, and then, using this tunnel, moved the liquor from the house to the Yacht Club. From there, they shipped it out to speakeasies in the area. I imagine they made a fortune. I mean, you’ve seen my house, right?”
“Yes. I decorated your kitchen, remember?” Valerie’s story was interesting. It would be cool
to have a house that was connected to history, and she might have used those details to work character into the décor in Valerie’s house had she known. And damn, she must be crazy, thinking about décor at a time like this.
Valerie jiggled the butcher knife in her hand.
Bexley’s heart stalled in her chest. She had to keep Valerie talking — stop her from doing whatever she was about to do. Words wouldn’t come though. They seemed to be caught somewhere between her throat and her brain.
She expected Valerie to raise the knife above her…for the knife to strike first, but Valerie brought her face down close again, looking Bexley in the eye. She was grinning, looking happy, like she was just having a picnic of a day, and there didn’t seem to be any hope of dissuading her from the task at hand. It made Bexley want to cry, but she wasn’t ready to give up. Not yet.
Remembering virtually every action film she’d ever seen as Valerie stood there, grinning like some sick puppet, Bexley brought her head up with as much force as she could muster, slamming her forehead into Valerie’s nose.
Valerie squealed and the knife in her hand clattered to the side of the wooden table, its handle landing on top of Bexley’s hand.
“You bitch!” Valerie screamed, holding her nose and shrieking. “I swear to God I’m going to kill you!”
Wrapping her hand around the knife handle, Bexley said, “You were going to do that anyway.”
Valerie pushed a loud yell from her lungs and lunged. And Bexley lifted up the knife as Valerie pounced.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Vaughn couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt worse. One day without Bexley, and his life was empty, like nothing would ever be the same again. He couldn’t get over what she’d said…that she knew about the accident…that they should talk about it. He’d owed her the truth about his past, and instead he’d spouted some stupid nonsense about not leading her on, or promising her a white picket fence. And the look on her face when he’d said it…he would never forget that either. She’d been so hurt.
Sitting in his kitchen, staring at the TV dinner he’d just pulled from the microwave, he realized what a waste it had been to cook it. Wasn’t like he had enough of an appetite to take a bite. He doubted he’d ever feel hungry again. Nothing would ever be okay after this, and if his world came to a screeching halt right here, right now, he’d be okay with that. Maybe someday his mother would stop by and find his starved corpse still sitting here, staring at an uneaten tray of food.
His phone rang in the midst of his melancholia, and for a tiny moment, excitement buoyed his spirits; until he looked at his phone and saw it wasn’t Bexley. Picking up the phone from his counter, he answered, saying, “Mary Alice, hi. What’s up down there in farm country?”
“In our case, it’s more like horse country, big brother. And in answer to your question, what’s up is something incredibly huge and exciting.”
“Huge and exciting, huh?” It must be. Her voice bubbled in a way he hadn’t heard since she’d announced her engagement. “So what is it that’s got you sounding like a lottery winner?”
“Dan and I are expecting a baby!” The news burst from her with a squeal. “A baby! Can you believe it?”
“That’s wonderful, Sis.”
“Of course it is. So why do you sound so glum? Aren’t you excited for me?”
“Terribly.” He tried putting more enthusiasm into his voice. “But I don’t think I could match that squeal of yours if my life depended on it.”
She laughed. “And I wouldn’t expect you to.” She paused, just long enough to take a breath. “Dan wants to name the baby William Clifford if it’s a boy. After his father and ours.”
“And if it’s a girl?” He shouldn’t have asked, but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
Letting out a long sigh, his sister said, “I don’t know.”
“I’m sorry. Really.” Given the situation between Mary Alice and Mother, and the obvious implication of the question, it was a stupid thing to ask. “I didn’t mean to throw a wet blanket on your happiness.”
“Oh, you haven’t. It’s just…you know…I’d had the name Judith picked out for my future daughter since I was about five, and Judith Clarice does have a lovely ring to it; but I just don’t know if I could name my child after Mother. Not now.”
He hated the way his sister sounded now, deflated, like someone had let all the air out of her balloon. “Have you told Mom about the baby yet?”
Another sigh. “No. I just can’t bring myself to call her. I mean, not after the way she behaved when I got engaged. Dan and his family were so hurt. I mean, what’s so awful about being a police officer anyway? She gets that he’s the one putting people in jail, and not vice versa, right?”
“I’m sure even Mother gets that, yes.”
“Then what’s wrong with her?”
“I don’t know, Mary. She really hasn’t been happy since Dad died.”
And there it was, that stab of guilt, the one he’d been feeling about everything that had gone wrong in his family since that tragic night. On the other end of the phone, Mary Alice had gone silent as well, and he knew what she must be thinking. “I’m sorry, Sis. It’s my fault she’s been so unhappy all these years. If only I hadn’t been driving that night. Or if I’d reacted sooner…swerved the car somewhere besides into that tree.”
“Vaughn Humphries, don’t you dare go blaming yourself for that, or for the way Mother behaves. She’s been pushy since long before Dad died…for as long as I can remember.”
“I know, but —.”
“But nothing. I’ll bet she’s still on your case to marry Eleanor Dodson, too. You really need to stop letting her railroad you. Cutting the cord might be scary, but you’d be amazed how liberating it feels.”
It made him chuckle, the way she sounded so indignant. “I appreciate the pep talk, Mare. But don’t worry about me. I can handle Mother.”
“Huh.” She snorted. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”
Was he really that much of a pushover? Vaughn didn’t need to ask. Somewhere, deep inside, he already knew the answer. ‘Listen, Mare,” he said. “If you really like the name Judith Clarice, then that’s what you should name your child if it’s a girl. Not because you’d be naming her after Mom, but because you like the name. You’re a grown woman, and you should be making your own decisions.”
“You know what, big brother, you’re right. Judith Clarice for a girl it is.”
“Perfect. And congratulations, by the way. I’m very happy for you both.”
“Thanks, big brother.”
As he ended the call, the irony of the advice he’d just given smacked him in the face. It was time he started listening to his own words.
Looking at the clock, he mentally made the calculation. A few minutes after six here meant it would be just after midnight in France. Mother wouldn’t be pleased to get a call at this hour, but truth be told, she wasn’t going to be pleased to get this particular call at any time, and what he had to say couldn’t wait.
Vaughn felt like a fool. Listening to his mother sigh in disgust from over four thousand miles away, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t stood up to her sooner. “There’s no point trying to talk me out of it, Mother. My mind is made up.”
“This is what you called me up in the middle of the night to tell me?” She let out another sigh, shorter this time. “You’ve liked other women before, and you’ve always ended up back with Eleanor. Doesn’t that tell you something?”
“Yes. It tells me I’ve allowed your interference in my life for far too long.”
“My interference?” She gasped over the phone.
“I grew up listening to you and Jeanne Dodson go on and on about how I was going to marry Eleanor. Like I never had a say in the matter. Well, I do, and I don’t love Eleanor. Truth be told, I don’t even really like her.”
Another gasp. “Vaughn, please. I know you’re experiencing some sort of infatuation right n
ow, but don’t throw away your entire life for some girl you barely know. I mean, really, Mineral Springs, Texas. Where is that even at?”
“It’s north of Waco, and this is not just an infatuation. I love Bexley.”
“How do you know that?” His mother sounded undeterred. “You said you liked Sophie Durning and Emma Elkins too. And after you ended things with them you were hardly broken up about it. You agreed with me that they weren’t really right for you.”
“Because I didn’t love them.” He said the words slowly, hoping this time maybe she’d get it. “You were correct that they weren’t the right women for me, Mother, but not because they lacked money, because they lacked morals. They may have been nice, but they didn’t care about much beyond themselves, and whatever made them feel good. That’s not actually the sort of woman I can fall in love with, or spend the rest of my life with, or see as the mother of my children. But here’s the thing, Mother, Eleanor Dodson is selfish too. Worse than that, she’s rude and condescending, and sometimes she’s downright cruel. And that’s not the sort of woman I can fall in love with either.” Now that he’d begun to speak his mind, he intended to speak all of it. “And there’s one more thing, Mother; the only person who cares about the money is you. Bexley Hart would be just as happy living on a farm in rural Texas. And if you don’t give your blessing to our marriage, that’s exactly what might happen.”
“Oh, Vaughn, you wouldn’t.” Her voice faltered.
“I would,” he said. “Just like Mary Alice moved to Indiana when you refused to give your blessing to her wedding. And by the way, Daniel Clark is a wonderful guy. He treats Mary Alice like gold.”
“I wouldn’t know how he treats your sister,” his mother said. “But I do know he sat right there holding your sister’s hand when she accused me of being a snob, and told me I was manipulative. She even had the nerve to tell me I was ruining your life by blaming you for your father’s death.”
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