“I don’t know.”
Paul spoke into the phone. “Look, would you get Buddy on his radio and tell him to check my house?” He hung up. “Come on, Karen, it’s time to end this thing.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“TREY DELANEY, what are you doing here?” Ann asked.
Trey was kneeling between Paul’s newly installed kitchen cabinets when Ann walked in on him. He jumped to his feet and dropped the pipe wrench he’d had in his hand. “You’re not supposed to be here.”
“Neither are you, so I guess that makes us even.”
“There weren’t any lights on. I made sure before I came in.” His eyes darted around the room. “Go away.”
“I was in the upstairs bathroom reading with the shutters closed. And I will not go away. I’m supposed to be here. Why are you?”
He made a sound that was half groan and half whimper.
“What are you hiding behind your back? Show me.” She reached for his arm playfully, but he shoved her away with more force than was necessary. “Ow! Stop that!”
“I’m sorry, Ann,” he said. “I don’t want to hurt you. God, I never wanted to hurt anybody.”
She felt the hairs on her neck prickle. Nonsense. This was Trey, her dim-witted cousin, a sweet guy she’d known all her life. There was not a mean bone in his body. She didn’t need to feel frightened around Trey, did she?
She kept her voice calm. Trey had always responded well to authority. So she’d exert it. “Trey Delaney, you show me what you have in your hand right this minute. I mean it.”
“It’s just an old candle.” Now, he sounded sulky.
“A candle? Why were you putting it on the floor?” She looked past him. “Good grief, some nitwit left the cap off the gas valve to the stove. That could be danger…” Suddenly her eyes widened. “Oh, my God.”
Trey threw the candle across the room. “Why’d you have to show up? The house was supposed to be empty.”
“I didn’t just show up. I’ve been here waiting for Paul.”
“He’s at Mama’s. She called him. He’s not supposed to be back until…until…”
Anger drove out any fear she felt. “You’re the one who’s been pulling those stupid stunts, aren’t you? What’d you do—buy The Idiot’s Guide to Assassination? You could have killed somebody. Dammit, you could have killed me!”
He dropped his eyes. “I’m sorry about that. You weren’t supposed to get in the way.” He opened his hands and reached out to her. “I didn’t want to kill him, maybe hurt him a little, make him go away.”
“Why on earth would you want to make him go away? My Lord, Trey, those weren’t high-school pranks. They were dangerous and stupid.”
“Mama told me he was dangerous to the family.” He drew himself up. “Nobody threatens my family.”
“He’s not threatening your family. He’s a perfectly nice man…”
“No, he’s not.” Suddenly Trey’s face went hard. His hands twisted into fists.
Until this moment she’d never realized how big he was. She felt her pulse race in her throat. She forced her voice to remain calm. “Did she happen to mention why he’s dangerous to your family?”
“She said she couldn’t tell me for a few days, but I know it’s about Daddy or Granddaddy. Maybe a vendetta—the son of somebody one of them screwed in a business deal. Something like that, at any rate. Retaliation. Revenge. Mama swore she’d tell me when I stole his toothbrush, but she didn’t.”
Ann stared at him in amazement. “You stole Paul’s toothbrush?”
“Mama told me to. I gave her the glass he used in my office, too. She wanted his fingerprints.”
“Trey, don’t you watch any of those forensic shows on TV? Don’t you know about DNA?”
“Sure I know. What’s DNA got to do with anything?”
“You can get DNA off a toothbrush.”
“Why would Mama want his DNA?”
“I don’t know.” She closed her eyes and ran her hand over her face. “Trey, I cannot believe you went out on nothing more than your mama’s say-so and tried to kill a total stranger. Don’t you understand you could go to jail?”
Now he was back to sulky. “I didn’t really try to kill him. I figured he might land in the hospital for a while, long enough to be convinced to go back where he came from. The Delaneys can make Rossiter damn uncomfortable for anybody they don’t want here. We’re still powerful. And I wouldn’t go to jail. Not in this county.”
“You would if Buddy had anything to say about it. You may be rich, but you’re no different from anybody else under the law.”
“I’m still a Delaney.”
“Don’t be an idiot, Trey. What do you think Buddy would have done if you’d killed me?”
“I’m so sorry about that, Ann. After you fell off Liege I realized I couldn’t take a chance on hurting somebody else.” He took a deep breath. “The only way to make him leave town is to make doggoned certain he doesn’t have a house to live in.”
Suddenly he didn’t seem quite sane. His eyes glittered with excitement.
Ann felt her stomach churn. She mustn’t throw up.
She had to keep him talking, try to bring him back to the real world where he would never consider arson and murder. She had to stay calm. If she broke, if she turned and ran, he’d catch her. She held his eyes. She must not break the spell between them until she could figure out what to do next.
“Okay,” she said, “let me see if I can figure this out. First you take the cap off the gas line inside. Then you light your candle and set it on the counter. Then you go outside and turn on the gas main—that’s what the pipe wrench is for, am I right? The house fills with gas, the candle ignites it, and goodbye house.”
“Right.”
“That won’t work. You may set off a minor explosion and cause a fire, but you won’t blow the house up. It would take a month to fill the house with gas from that tiny pipe. Besides, the minute the first fumes reach your precious lighted candle, you’d get a nice little boom that would blow the flame out. There are smoke detectors all over this place. Buddy insisted on them. The fire department will be here within five minutes, Trey. They’re only two blocks away.”
His eyes had turned sly. The smile she had always thought charming now seemed ugly and twisted. He was going to do this horrible thing. There was nothing she could do to stop him.
And she was a witness. He didn’t seem to have realized that.
Yet.
“Don’t try to kid a kidder, Ann. There’s a bunch of cans of varnish and oil-based paint on the floor over there. They’ll blow the minute the gas touches this candle.” He bit his lip. “That’s why I had to do it when I was sure nobody was here. I don’t want to burn anybody alive.”
“What about the café? You want to burn that to the ground, too?”
“The fire department can keep that from happening.”
“Listen to me. So far you haven’t caused any real damage. You’ve got to stop this right now before you do. If you burn this house down, Daddy will make sure you go to jail.”
Trey shoved his fingers through his unruly hair. “Everybody’ll think it’s an accident. I can’t go to jail. I’ve got a family to support. Buddy won’t find out.”
“He will. Now, for heaven’s sake put the cap back on that gas line, and let’s go next door for a cup of coffee.”
“No. I’ve come too far. Buddy won’t find out if you don’t tell him.” He stared at her sadly. “But you will, won’t you?”
He knew she would. She had to try and convince him she’d keep her mouth shut. She was truly frightened of him now. “I promise I won’t tell Buddy.”
He sighed deeply and shook his head. “You will, too. It’s not my fault you showed up. I got to protect my family.”
“Are you threatening me?”
He stood very tall. “I guess I am.”
“Trey, you don’t want to do this.”
“I have to. I’m so sorry.” He st
arted toward her with the wrench in his raised fist. “I promise I won’t let you burn to death.”
She was gearing up to run when she heard a deep rumble from the doorway.
Both she and Trey turned to see Dante. His teeth were bared and every hair on his back was standing on end.
Trey froze.
Dante jumped.
Trey screamed, dropped the wrench and fell with Dante on his chest. There was a sickening thud as Trey’s head struck the floor.
“Dante!” Ann yelled. “Dante, no!” She grabbed his collar and yanked.
He didn’t move. Only the chokehold Ann had on his collar kept him from tearing out Trey’s throat.
Trey screamed. “Get him off me!”
The back door burst open, and Buddy rushed in with his gun drawn. “What the…”
The dog turned his massive head, saw Buddy and immediately relaxed into his slobbering happy self. Ann pulled him away.
Trey sat up, blinking hard. “My head hurts,” he said.
“You’re lucky that’s all that hurts,” Buddy said. “Dante could have ripped you to pieces. Now get up from there before I blow your stupid brains out.”
“I wasn’t really going to do anything.” Trey’s eyes pleaded with Ann.
“He hadn’t done anything yet, Daddy.” She glared at Trey. “He planned to burn this house down.” She didn’t mention that the house would have burned with her inside. She was afraid of what Buddy might do.
Brakes squealed.
A moment later Paul rushed in with Karen on his heels.
“Mama?” Trey said. He still sat on the floor with Buddy’s gun in his face.
“Don’t you say one word until Marshall gets here,” Karen said. She turned to Buddy. “He wants a lawyer.”
“I was just trying to do what you wanted.”
“Shut up.”
Paul swept Ann into his arms. “Are you all right?”
She held him tight for a long moment until fear gave way to anger. She pushed away from him to glare at Trey. “I’m fine. My idiot cousin was going to blow up the house just to get you to leave town.”
He put his hands on her shoulders. “Did he hurt you? If he did, I swear…”
“I’m okay.” She looked at her dog. “Dante protected me. I think if I hadn’t grabbed him, Trey wouldn’t have much of a head left.”
“Good boy,” Paul said.
Dante sat up and wagged his stump tail.
Ann dropped to the floor and wrapped her arms around him. She began to cry. “Good old dog,” she said, and buried her face in his neck.
Trey stood up carefully. He didn’t take his eye off Buddy’s gun.
“If that’s all, Buddy, this has been an exhausting night. I’m going to take Trey home,” Karen said. She slipped her arm protectively around her son’s shoulders.
“The hell you are,” Buddy said. “We’re all going over to my office, and we’re going to stay there until we sort this thing out.”
“But—”
“Karen, I said git. Now git.”
“I DON’T INTEND to press charges,” Paul said once they were settled in Buddy’s office. “Thankfully nobody was hurt and Karen’s agreed to pay for the repair to the Cessna and the Stearman. Charges wouldn’t serve any purpose.”
“I don’t give a damn whether you press charges or not. I seem to recall that sabotaging an aircraft is a federal offense.”
“You can’t prove I did that,” Trey said.
“Trey, I told you to shut up. If you want to blame anybody,” Karen said, “blame me. He thought he was doing what I told him to do to protect his family.”
“I don’t intend to press charges, either,” Ann said. “I’m the one who got dumped off Liege. Remember, Trey? Me, not Paul. And I’m the one you were threatening to bash with that wrench.”
Trey hunkered down and averted his gaze.
“Family be damned,” Buddy said. “What is this mess all about? Nobody’s leaving here until I know.”
Karen took a deep gulp of air. “There’s no good way to do this. Trey, meet your half brother, Paul Delaney. Your older half brother.”
Trey and Buddy both gaped.
BY MIDNIGHT Buddy swore he was going to lock the entire passel of them up and sort them out in the morning.
Marshall Lowrance managed to calm him down long enough to get him to release Trey and Karen into his custody.
“Sue-sue is frantic,” Marshall told his stepson as he led him out. “You call her from my car.”
“What about my truck?”
“You are not touching your truck until I know you can pass a breathalyzer. Now come on. You, too, Karen. Sometime I wish I’d never met any of you.”
Buddy watched them leave, then turned to Ann and Paul.
“I’ve about had it. Will somebody please start at the beginning and tell me what’s happening here?”
Ann turned to Paul. “I know who killed your mother.”
Paul turned to her. “So do I. Took me long enough to figure it out. The only person who could have killed her was Maribelle.”
Ann gaped at him. “You knew?”
“I figured it out on the drive over here. Karen and Paul were in Florida when Michelle was last seen. Then I realized, Paul and Karen had just moved into their new house in the country—the house that Trey and Sue-sue live in now. That address wouldn’t have been listed in the old phonebook. The only address my mother would have had for Paul Delaney was the mansion in town.”
“That’s right. So…”
“So she showed up unannounced at Maribelle’s front door looking for my father. I don’t know what happened then, but I do know Maribelle must have killed her.”
“You bet she did.” Ann handed him the brown-paper-wrapped parcel.
“Addy’s journal?”
Ann shook her head. “I suspect that’s gone for good. Probably went into the trash a long time ago. This is more like Addy’s blackmail material. She wanted to make certain Maribelle didn’t kill her to shut her mouth. So she wrote a detailed account of what happened. Apparently, she left three copies—one with her lawyer to be opened in the event of her death, one in her lockbox, which she knew would have to be cataloged by a bank officer after she died, and one hidden in the top of the dumbwaiter,” Ann said.
“Why didn’t they come to light after Miss Addy’s death?” Buddy asked.
“Addy writes that if Maribelle dies first and leaves her the house and the trust fund the way she promised, she’ll destroy all three. According to Miss Esther, she forgot where she put the one in the house and never did find it.”
“When was all this supposed to have happened?” Buddy asked.
Paul told him.
“You got a picture?”
“In my suitcase.”
Buddy motioned to the patrolman manning the front desk. “Pete, run over to Mr. Bouvet’s house and bring that picture back. Okay with you, Paul?”
He nodded.
While they waited, Ann continued, “It happened pretty much the way Paul thought.” She handed him the sheets of paper. She kept the more bulky parcel in her lap.
Reading Addy’s words, Paul could almost feel himself back in the house on that hot August afternoon. The day his mother died.
ADDY AND MARIBELLE weren’t expecting company. When the doorbell rang, Maribelle had just come in from digging crabgrass out of her impatiens. She was wearing one of her dead husband’s old shirts and a pair of thread-bare pedal pushers. She tossed her straw hat on the hat rack, pulled off her gardening gloves and answered the door.
“Yes?”
The woman—girl, rather—at the door was a stranger. Pretty thing, but tired to the point of exhaustion. Too skinny, dark. She wore a black-and-white printed dress much too hot for August and black patent-leather pumps that must have been hell to walk in. She carried a cheap patent-leather handbag and wore short white cotton gloves.
“Sorry, no solicitors.” Maribelle was about to close the door whe
n the young woman put out her hand. “No, please, wait. I am not a solicitor. I wish to see Mr. Delaney.”
The sweat running down her face had streaked her makeup. She looked desperately hot.
Addy had come up behind her sister and peered over her shoulder.
The girl had a definite accent. French, Addy thought.
“I’m afraid Mr. Delaney is…not home at the moment,” Maribelle said.
Addy glanced at the back of her sister’s neck. Why not tell this child he was in Florida?
The girl looked about ready to faint.
“Perhaps I can help you?” Maribelle asked.
“Non, madame, it is only Monsieur Delaney who can help me.”
“You’re French, aren’t you.”
As if her accent didn’t proclaim it like a trumpet. “Yes.”
Addy shoved past her sister. “Did you know Mr. Delaney when he lived in France?”
“Yes, I did.” The girl swayed. “Madame, please, if I may trouble you? A glass of water? The heat—I am not used to it.”
“Of course,” Maribelle said. “Any friend of David’s is welcome. Please come in.”
The girl looked from Maribelle to Addy and apparently decided Maribelle must be some kind of gardener. She smiled at Addy as though she was the hostess. “Thank you.”
“Have a seat in the living room, my dear,” Maribelle said.
The girl looked from one sister to the other in confusion.
The heavy cream silk drapes in the living room had been closed against the afternoon sun, so the room lay in shadow. Maribelle motioned the girl to an ornate beige sofa that faced the fireplace.
She sank onto the cushions gratefully, her handbag still over her wrist. Suddenly she stood up, moved quickly to a side table and picked up a photo in a silver frame. Her face broke into a smile. “Yes,” she whispered. “This is my David.”
“We’ve never had any of David’s acquaintances from France visit before. Was he expecting you?” Addy asked.
“Non, madame. I wished to surprise him.” She held the picture frame against her thin chest. “I shall be glad to see him. When will he return?”
Addy started to tell her a week, but a shake of Maribelle’s head stopped her.
House of Strangers (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 23
