by Angela Henry
“It wasn’t your fault, Stephanie. It was an accident,” I said.
“That’s what I tried to tell those cops,” she sobbed crying hard now. “But they arrested me anyway. Charged me with involuntary manslaughter, child endangerment and drug possession. They sentenced me to five years. When I got out I changed my name. Thought I’d try to be an actress. That didn’t work out, either. All I got was a talent agent husband whose favorite hobby is knocking me and his son around.”
“How did Vivianne find out about all this?” The plastic tie around my wrists hadn’t broken but was stretched out enough that I could slip a hand out. But there was still the matter of my ankles.
“She told me she hired a private investigator to dig into my background and Cliff’s. Found out I’d changed my last name from Blackman when I got out of prison. Wasn’t hard to find out anything about me after that.”
Blackman. So, the title, The Onyx Man, wasn’t just referring to Cliff.
“When did you find out about her book? Right before you killed her?”
Stephanie laughed. “I went to see that smug cow in her dressing room that morning to beg her to take that part Cliff wanted her to do. He needed her to take that part. His agency was going under. Kurt and I were catching hell because he was always in a foul mood. I thought it was the least she could do for all he’d done for her career. She was being a diva as usual. I called her a selfish bitch. That’s when she pulled the check from that publishing company from her purse. She had a letter opener and opened it all dramatic like and waved it in my face. Told me when the book came out everyone would figure out it was about me and Cliff and would know about what happened to Lilly. I just lost it. She put the letter opener down and turned her back on me. And I grabbed it and stuck it in her back over and over again until she was dead.”
“So you’re the one who set off the fire alarm?”
“I wiped my prints off the letter opener and ran. Then I remembered the check and went back to get it, but I saw your sister. She was standing over Vivianne’s body holding the check. I went into the men’s room and lit up a cigarette and waved it under the sprinklers and then threw it in the trash. When the alarm went off, I saw your sister running away. I was hoping she’d dropped the check but she still had it in her hand.”
“And you had to get it back, which is why you tried to break into my grandmother’s house and broke into my apartment and set Diamond Publishing on fire. To destroy all traces of the book.”
“I had to. I didn’t want anyone to know about the damned book.”
“How did you know I had Vivianne’s computer disk?”
“I didn’t even know there was a disk at first. I figured she must have a computer that the book was saved on. Kurt still had a key from when he used to spend summers with her. I took his key and searched the entire house when Harriet was out. No computer. But I did find a receipt in Vivianne’s room from a typing service for a word-processing job and it referred to a copy saved to a disk. I knew she had to have hidden the disk someplace. But I never found it. Then I saw you at the service with that beaded purse. I saw a picture of Vivianne with that same purse when Cliff dragged me to that creepy man’s memorabilia shop to see his stupid display. I knew Kurt had sold some of her things recently. I’m the one who encouraged him to sell her stuff in the first place years ago. Cliff had us both on a strict allowance. Sometimes Kurt would share the money with me. I wondered if the disk was hidden in the purse. It was really just a guess. I figured even if it wasn’t in the purse I’d give you enough time and motivation to find it for me.”
“Then you weren’t the one who broke in and trashed Cabot’s Cave and chased me?”
Even as the question left my lips, I knew it couldn’t have been Stephanie who trashed Cabot’s Cave. The shop had been broken into and trashed after Stephanie had noticed me with the purse at the memorial service. She’d have had no reason to break into the shop because she already knew I had the purse. So, who chased me?
“Now, it’s time for me to tie up some more loose ends.” She set her still-lit cigarette on the edge of the desk, picked up the gas can, and unscrewed the top. I could hear a sharp intake of breath coming from Lynette.
“Is that why you killed Noelle? Just tying up another loose end?”
Stephanie stopped what she was about to do and set the can on the floor. She walked over to me and leaned down. Her face was quite calm for someone who’d killed two people already and was about to kill two more. In other words, we were screwed.
“She managed to get hold of that manuscript and figured it all out. She tried to blackmail me. She knew I was the one who killed Vivianne. Told me she was dating Kurt and would tell him all about me and what happened to my daughter. Well, I couldn’t have that, could I? I went to her hotel room to try and reason with her. She started reading me passages from that manuscript. She wouldn’t shut her mouth. So I shut it for her. Bashed her face in with a crystal ashtray. That shut her up all right. I stuffed her body in a duffel bag and hid it in the trunk of Cliff’s rental until tonight. She’ll be joining you both in your tragic fire deaths,” she said, looking up at the top bunk.
Not if I could help it. When she turned to walk away, I lunged for her legs. She fell forward, knocking over the gas can. The smell of gasoline filled the air. Stephanie’s shirt was soaked in gas. The impact of her hitting the floor also caused her cigarette, which was teetering precariously on the edge of the desk, to fall into the pool of gas, instantly igniting it.
Stephanie was on fire. She’d gone up in flames like a torch before I could blink an eye. And so had the cabin. I untied my ankles and quickly untied Lynette as the cabin filled with thick black smoke. Stephanie lurched around in flames screaming like a banshee. My eyes were burning and I was coughing, but I managed to pull Lynette to her feet and grab a blanket from the bed. I threw the blanket over Stephanie and shoved her out the door behind Lynette. A couple of nearby campers were already rushing to our aid. One man threw Stephanie to the ground to pat out the remaining flames. Most of her hair was gone and her clothes and skin were a blackened mess. Another camper called 911 as Lynette and I clung to each other in shock.
They kept Lynette and me in the hospital overnight for minor smoke inhalation even though, except for having almost been killed, we were fine. Stephanie, on the other hand, was in the burn unit in critical condition with third-degree burns over thirty percent of her body. If she survived, she’d be charged with the murders of Vivianne DeArmond and Noelle Delaney and the attempted murders of Lynette and me. After we each gave statements to Harmon and Mercer, and I gave them the dog tags and told them where to find the copy of the disk, our families descended upon our room and a small party ensued until the nurses shooed everyone home so we could rest. Allegra had insisted on spending the night in our room until Mama dragged her home. Before she left, Justine even gave me a big hug and thanked me for saving her daughter.
“Girl, thank you, thank you, thank you for saving my baby,” she said wrapping her arms around me. The drama that had occurred between us in the parking lot was instantly forgotten, much to my relief because Justine is legendary in Willow for how long she can hold a grudge.
“Yeah, Kendra, thanks for being such a wonderful friend. I don’t know what I would have done without you this week,” Greg said, coming over to give me a peck on the cheek.
“No need to thank me,” I said looking around “I’m sure any of you would have done the same for me, right?” There was a chorus of yeses but Justine’s in particular sounded a little half-hearted.
Carl and Greg were the last ones to leave. Carl pulled the curtain between our beds for privacy and kissed me on the forehead.
“You know nothing happened between me and your sister, right? I mean, she’s a beautiful woman but she’s gotta be one of the most self-absorbed people I’ve ever met. All she does is talk about herself,” he said, shaking his head. I burst out laughing.
“I know nothing happened. But
it’s good to hear anyway. And you know nothing happened between me and Morris Rollins’s at the Heritage Arms, right?” I asked.
“Of course I do. I know I can trust you, Kendra,” he said, pulling me into a tight embrace.
He trusted me. Great. I thought back to my lip-lock with Rollins. Well, that made one of us at any rate. I happened to look over Carl’s shoulder at the door to the hospital room and there filling the doorway with his tall frame was the man in question. Our eyes met for a moment and then he grinned and gave me a devilish wink before disappearing down the hall.
EPILOGUE
Lynette and Greg’s wedding went off without a hitch. Morris Rollins performed a beautiful ceremony after which we all ate, drank and danced at the reception hall until late into the night. My best friend and her new husband got a honeymoon send-off they won’t soon forget. I didn’t even mind wearing the hideous Smurf-blue maid of honor dress. I was actually damned happy to be alive to put the ugly thing on. I shook my bow-covered ass all night long. When it was time for Lynette to throw her bridal bouquet, Justine charged through the crowd of single women, knocking them down like a linebacker to catch it, and every unmarried man in the room scattered like crumbs in the wind. The way Lynette and Greg held each other on the dance floor and gazed into each other’s eyes left no question in my mind as to what kind of honeymoon they were going to have, though I doubt she’s going to be letting him tie her up anytime soon.
Allegra apologized profusely for lying to me about the check. She’d been planning an exclusive story to get back into Hollywood Vibe’s good graces and somehow thought holding on to the check would make her exclusive, well, even more exclusive. Whatever that meant. After the wedding, Allegra went back to L.A. She did the talk-show circuit and told the story of finding Vivianne’s body, her arrest and being unjustly accused of murder to anyone and everyone who’d listen. For a while there wasn’t a day that went by that I wasn’t watching her on TV or reading about her in newspapers and magazines. I knew my baby sister was loving every minute of it. As traumatic as the whole experience had been, it all paid off for her in the end. She finally got her big break, the starring role in a major made-for-cable-TV movie. The name of the movie? The Vivianne DeArmond Story.
Stephanie Preston was severely disfigured in the fire and is still recovering from her burns. She was officially charged with murder, attempted murder, kidnapping and arson. Margo Diamond also sued her in civil court for the fire at Diamond Publishing. Her trial is set for sometime in the fall. Lynette and I will have to testify. I’m praying she’ll save the state the cost of a trial and change her plea to guilty. But since she’s denying she did anything wrong, I’m not holding my breath. The media circus surrounding the case is played out daily on TV. Stephanie’s finally in the limelight, but somehow I don’t think she’s ready for this kind of close-up.
In order to beat the media to the punch, Cliff Preston announced in a press conference that he was born Jasper Hairston to a black family in Indiana. Just like in Vivianne’s book, the real Cliff Preston was a white army buddy of his who was declared missing in action during the Korean War. But unlike the book, Jasper Hairston hadn’t murdered Cliff Preston, at least not as far as any investigation has been able to discover. Vivianne had just wanted to cast a shadow of suspicion on Cliff. The dog tags she had weren’t even real. She had them made and planned to use them in case Cliff threatened to report Blackie being alive to the police. Cliff’s talent agency went belly-up when the few loyal clients he had left defected to other agencies. He was also publicly lambasted by everyone, including comics, politicians and even the NAACP. But Hollywood being what it is, Cliff was able to capitalize on his notoriety by selling the rights to his story. And in the ultimate attempt at distancing himself from future scandal, he filed for divorce from Stephanie, which will ultimately leave her with no health insurance.
Kurt Preston has written off both Cliff and Stephanie. He never had much use for Cliff, who had abused him since he was a child. Cutting Cliff out of his life had been no big loss. But he had really loved Stephanie. What had happened to Stephanie’s daughter, Lilly, and her role in the tragedy, wouldn’t have changed Kurt’s feelings for his beloved stepmother. However, murdering Noelle, the woman he loved, was something he couldn’t forgive Stephanie for. Kurt is living with Harriet at Vivianne’s farmhouse, which she left to him in her will, and is attempting once again to kick his drug and alcohol problem. He felt he owed it to Noelle, since she was never able to overcome her demons. Harriet made sure he knew the truth about Vivianne and that she really did love him. Kurt is also writing a book called, of all things, Little Black Lie. I hear it’s a mystery.
And speaking of mysteries, the mystery of who had broken into Cabot’s Cave and chased me with that hammer was solved one evening when I saw the news report that a man had been arrested for trying to sell collectibles stolen from Cabot’s Cave. The thief claimed that Donald Cabot had hired him to break into Cabot’s Cave and steal a few of his heavily insured collectibles so he could collect the insurance money and save his failing business. The plan went horribly wrong when the thief took it upon himself to bust up the place to make the robbery look more authentic. When the unfortunate Mr. Cabot walked in and saw what was being done to his precious shop, he dropped dead of a heart attack.
Blackie Randall quietly disappeared from Woodlawn Nursing Home. I didn’t tell the police, or anybody else, about him being alive. Whether he was guilty of robbing that bank was something we’d probably never know, but in his current condition he was beyond anything the law could do to him. Cliff reported seeing him to the police out of spite and to deflect some negative attention away from himself. I don’t know where Harriet is hiding him now. She isn’t talking, and she swore Cliff was lying and trying to make trouble for her when the police ultimately showed up to search the farmhouse.
But I had a good idea of where Blackie might be, and while I was out taking my new car for a spin I decided to test my theory. My Nova hadn’t been worth repairing and I was now cruising around in a silver Toyota Celica—used, of course. I toyed with the idea of reporting Winette Barlow to the police. Since I hadn’t actually seen her trash my car, and didn’t feel like dealing with any more drama, I decided against it. Much to Rollins’s relief, Winette has since set her sights on a new conquest and has given up her pursuit of the reverend, though she still tosses venomous looks at me whenever I see her out in public.
Anyway, I found myself in front of Morris Rollins’s brick ranch. I saw his car in the driveway and pulled in behind it. Rollins emerged from the backyard at the sound of my car door slamming. His expression was neutral and I couldn’t tell if he was happy to see me.
“Is this a bad time?” I asked. He shook his head and silently opened the gate for me come through.
I stepped into the backyard, looked up onto the deck and saw an elderly man with long silvery-white hair sitting in a wheelchair with an oxygen tube in his nose staring off into space.
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“My uncle,” he replied simply. I could tell by the set of his jaw that that would be all the explanation I was going to get.
I smiled at Rollins. He smiled back.
DIVA’S LAST CURTAIN CALL
A Sepia Novel
ISBN: 978-1-4268-0187-7
Copyright © 2007 by Angela Henry
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Table of Contents
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
EPILOGUE
