“Home?”
He hugged me. “Home.”
With Israel on my side, I felt like I was part of a team. Together, we were stronger. I threw myself into my work, assisting Peggy and Stanley with the Tent City project. The director didn’t darken our door all day, which was unusual. Typically, Peggy was burning a path to his door or he was out and about micromanaging things in our office.
“I heard you had a meeting with the director,” Peggy asked. “How did it go? Did the Tent City project come up?”
“Nothing specific about that. I don’t think we’ll be working together anymore on that special project.” Just repeating that phrase left a dark stain in my mind, a stain I couldn’t wait to get home to wash off. Well, not at my apartment. My new, albeit temporary, home. Of course we would go back to my apartment together to gather up my things, but the thought of showering with my new roommate was a tempting prospect.
Peggy was beyond thrilled to have me back. “You did good work today,” she said. “Hope everything is okay with your family.”
I hadn’t told her why I’d had to suddenly leave work, and they had given me my privacy, so the less said the better.
“Everything at home is fine,” I assured her. “Thanks for asking.”
I walked to my car, careful to look around for lurkers. I didn’t know what my next step was. Would I quit and go back to Miami and get another job? Would I possibly accept Daniel’s proposal? How long could I comfortably stay at Israel’s place? What was our relationship, exactly? He’d told me he loved me, and I was falling more in love with him every day. But was he ready to commit? Was that even what I really wanted? Or was it just all about sex?
Chapter Twenty-Two
When I arrived at Israel’s house, he opened the door and took me into his arms.
“Merritt,” he breathed, pressing my body against his.
“I wasn’t gone that long.”
“A minute is too long to be without you,” he said.
“Aren’t you the romantic one tonight. Do you usually get home this early?”
“No, but I wanted to make you dinner.” He released me and splayed his hand across his chest. “Exhibit A. Didn’t you notice my apron?”
His apron was emblazoned with the words, “Kiss the Cook.”
“You’re cooking for me?”
“Yes, I’m not only romantic, I’m domestic.”
“Good to know.”
“Come in and take a look at your new home.”
“When you said your place, I had no idea you lived in a house, and such a nice one.”
“Why not? An apartment is too impermanent. I’m ready to settle down.”
“Oh.”
“When I find the right woman, which I think I have.”
“Really?”
“But first, obey the apron and kiss me properly.” He kissed me until I was weak in the knees. It was all I could do to pry myself out of his grip.
“Your neighbors are going to complain.”
“Then let’s take this inside,” he invited.
“You are in a strange mood tonight.”
“It occurred to me that you don’t really know my moods that well. That’s all going to change. I want you to know everything about me, and I want to know everything about you.”
“So shacking up would be your way of getting to know me?”
“Merritt, it’s more than shacking up. I thought you knew that. It’s more like protective custody. I’m your bodyguard, and I’m never going to let you go.”
“Oooh, Counselor, that sounds mildly suggestive.”
“There’s nothing mild about it. If I didn’t have my world-famous Goodspeed spaghetti sauce cooking on the stove, we’d begin our first lesson.”
“I love spaghetti,” I exclaimed.
“I know you love Italian food, so I am going to learn to make your favorite dishes.”
Impulsively, I jumped back into his arms and wrapped my legs around his waist. “You are my favorite dish.”
“Don’t tempt me, you little vixen, or the spaghetti sauce will burn.”
“Well, I’m burning for you now.”
“In that case, let me take the sauce off the stove, and we’ll heat things up in the bedroom.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
That weekend, when we drove to my apartment to get more clothes, I opened the door—and screamed.
Israel rushed into the foyer behind me.
“What is it?”
“Israel, look! Someone broke into my apartment.”
Drawers were opened and contents dumped. My papers and books were thrown from the bookshelf. I ran into my bedroom. My underwear drawers were ransacked. All the clothes in my closet were torn off the hangers and lay in a heap on the floor. There wasn’t one spot in the apartment left untouched.
“That bastard,” Israel swore. He walked over to the telephone and dialed his brother’s number.
“Four, we need to talk. I’m at Merritt’s, and someone broke into her place and trashed it. They were apparently looking for the letter she wrote or something she has that they want. We need to pay a visit to the director. Yes, now. It can’t wait. He violated our agreement. This can’t keep going on. Merritt is scared out of her mind. What if she had been there when they were here? I don’t even want to think about it. And bring your rifle.”
“Israel!” I exclaimed. “This isn’t Gunfight at the O.K. Corral.”
Israel placed his arms around me. “Everything will be okay. We need to call the police.”
“We already know who did it.”
“He’s too smart to have done it himself. He had one of his minions do it, but it has his fingerprints all over it. Don’t touch anything until the police get here and process the evidence. Can you determine if anything valuable was stolen?”
I looked around the bedroom. My jewelry was on the floor, but I didn’t have any valuable pieces. I had left Daniel’s engagement ring, the only piece of jewelry worth anything, with my mother. I knew what the director was after—the photo of him and Savannah together. But I had followed his instructions. I’d put it in a safe deposit box at the bank. Or maybe he thought I had a copy of the letter Israel had threatened to mail.
“Just my peace of mind.”
“He’s trying to frighten you. Don’t let him. We’re going to get him.”
“Israel, he’s too powerful and too connected, and he’s always one step ahead of us.”
Israel tried to calm me down, but he was more upset than I was. “He thinks he’s won, but this fight is far from over. When we make our next move, he won’t know what hit him.”
The police arrived minutes later. Israel introduced himself and me.
“Nothing valuable appears to be stolen, but they were looking for something.”
“Do you know what that was?” the police asked.
“No, but maybe they left some clues behind that can help us identify who did this,” Israel suggested.
“We’ll let you know. Meanwhile, miss, do you have a place to stay?”
“She does,” Israel answered. I gave them my phone number at work, and Israel provided his work and home phone.
The detective gave me his card and entered my apartment.
“Listen, I’m going to drop you off at my house,” Israel said. “Once we determine my house hasn’t been hit, and my friend arrives to stand guard outside, Four and I are going to pay the director a visit.”
I put my arm on his elbow. “Israel, wait, that’s too dangerous. He has an army behind him.”
“And we have justice on our side. He isn’t taking us seriously. It’s time to teach him a lesson. I’m not afraid of him.”
“I want to come with you.”
“I don’t want you involved.”
“I’m already involved. You’re acting like Mr. Macho Man and I’m the helpless Damsel in Distress. This is my fight.”
“Honey, I don’t know how the night is going to turn out. If you’re there
, I’ll just worry about you. I won’t be able to think clearly.”
“And I’m not going to stay home while you put yourself in harm’s way for me. I go where you go. We’re a team. Isn’t that what you told me?”
Israel frowned and rubbed his mouth. “I had no idea you were so stubborn.”
I smiled. “It’s one of my best qualities.”
He helped me into the car. “You know how to use a rifle?”
“No, I hate guns.”
“Well, I guess if we get into trouble, you can argue the director to death.”
“You’re not really going to shoot him, are you? That’s taking the law into your own hands.”
“I’m not going there with that intention, but I do plan to come away with the truth, whatever it is.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
When we pulled up to the ranch, the lights in the director’s house were still on. DC-1 was parked in the driveway, so the director was home. The plan was for me to wait in the car while Israel and Four, armed to the teeth, went to the door to get the director.
The door cracked open, and Miss Julia stood there in her robe.
“Four, what are you doing here this late at night? And isn’t this your brother? We met at the holiday party. I’m Willard’s wife.” She extended her hand.
“Miss Julia,” Four acknowledged politely.
“Miss Julia, of course I remember you,” said Israel. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Sorry to bother you at this hour, ma’am, but we’re here to pick up the director for the hunting trip.”
“Willard never mentioned a hunting trip to me.”
“Yes, this has been planned for a while. It must have slipped his mind. We’re going to meet some of the guys at the lodge. Is the director around?”
“He’s in his study. I’ll go get him. Would you like to come in?”
“No, ma’am, we’ll wait outside. We don’t want to disturb you.”
“Well, it was nice to see you both again.”
Four and Israel tipped their white hats in deference to Miss Julia. The white hats were a nice touch, indicating they were the good guys. The cowboy boots completed the picture. And there was something different about Miss Julia. Somehow, in the moonlight, with her white hair tumbling down her back, in her nightclothes and without makeup, she looked less severe, more vulnerable, almost disarming. I could see why the director might have fallen in love with her.
A minute later, the director bounded from his study and stood at the door. “Four, what are you doin’ here? I don’t know anything about a huntin’ trip.” Then Israel came out of the shadows. The director stepped back. “What’s this really about?”
“Like we told Miss Julia, just a hunting trip. All the boys are down at the lodge, waiting. It’s a surprise.”
“More like an ambush,” the director grumbled. “You boys are playing with fire. And you’re going to get burned.”
“We need you to come along with us to answer some questions,” Four insisted.
“I’m not goin’ anywhere with you boys.”
Miss Julia came up behind her husband.
“Willard, I packed you some clothes, and here’s your rifle.”
I almost bolted out of the car. I knew Miss Julia was a crack shot. This was not going according to plan. I flexed my fingers.
“Ma’am, the director won’t be needing his rifle,” explained Four. “We’re going to be hunting antlered deer. We’ve got centerfire rifles and pistols, shotguns, muzzleloaders, crossbows, and bows down at the lodge. But thanks for packing him a bag. That will come in handy.”
Miss Julia lowered the rifle. She kissed the director on the lips long and hard. “You boys have fun now. I’ll miss you, Willard.”
“I hate to leave Miss Julia alone here. The girls are visiting their cousins in Jacksonville.”
Something the director said triggered a memory about the morning of the murder, but I couldn’t recall exactly what it was.
“Miss Julia looks like a woman who can take care of herself,” Israel said, looking at the rifle. “And we have a lot of business to discuss, about that special project. You know the one, Director. We don’t need to bother Miss Julia about it.”
The director scowled. “No, we surely don’t, boys.” He bristled, but he took the bag from Miss Julia, gathered her in his arms, and kissed her again. Then he walked out the door, wedged between Four and Israel, into the night.
I was hiding in the front seat.
“What’s up, boys?” the director asked.
As a precaution, Four grabbed the director’s hands and cuffed them behind his back. He put up a hell of a struggle, but Israel managed to stuff him into the back seat, fastened his seatbelt, and got in next to him, angling the rifle at his head.
As Four pulled away, I popped up out of the front seat.
“What the hell is she doing here?”
‘You need to show the lady more respect,” Israel said. “Not another word until we get to our destination.” I’d never seen the director show fear, but from the look on his face, he was rattled.
We pulled up to a large log cabin. I’d never been to a hunting lodge before, but Peggy had told stories about it. It was empty now, but Four led the director to the brown leather couch and jerked him down roughly while Israel started a fire. I sat in a club chair across from the director. Then Israel sat next to me, in a checkered wing chair. Four stood guard over us with his rifle.
“What am I doing here?” the director asked.
“You’re on trial for murder,” said Israel simply. “I’m the prosecutor, and Merritt here is the judge.”
“You can’t hold me here against my will.”
“We can, and we will,” said Four.
“I have to get to the office in the morning.”
“We still have plenty of time.”
“I’ll have your job for this, Four.”
“We’ll see about that.”
The director was spitting mad. He tried to get up again, and Four pushed him right back down and twisted his arms until the director cried out in pain.
Israel rose.
“You remember this place, don’t you, Director? The way my brother tells it, you and the boys came here often. You brought Miss Savannah Braddock with you regularly. I believe the room you shared with your mistress was that one over there.” Israel pointed, and the director sagged in his seat. “Isn’t that right, Four?”
“The boys were so jealous when you spent all those hours alone in there with Miss Braddock,” Four added, “with all the giggling and carrying on. She squealed like a stuck pig when you bagged her.”
“You bastard,” said the director, sweat pouring off his forehead. “It wasn’t like that with Savannah. I was in love with her.”
“Do you deny that you were carrying on with your mistress while your wife, Miss Julia, was home with your daughters?” Israel continued.
The director wore a remorseful expression while Four stood over him menacingly.
“Now, it’s not that we couldn’t understand what you saw in Miss Braddock—Judge Braddock,” Four began. “She was as pretty as a kitten, sexy and willing, much like all the other young girls you lured up here.”
“That was before Savannah,” the director protested. “Savannah was different.”
“She was the hottest piece of ass in Watertown. Everyone wanted her, but you took her under your wing, so to speak, and arranged for her, a young lawyer not five years out of law school, to be elected to the second circuit court, way before she was ready and way ahead of the more qualified candidates waiting in line. But she was always ready for you, wasn’t she, Director? She had other qualifications. Me and the boys were salivating outside while you were otherwise occupied. We could only imagine what was going on inside that bedroom. You liked it rough and hard, and Miss Julia couldn’t satisfy you, isn’t that the truth? Savannah Braddock was just the latest in a long line of women you cheated with. And my brother’
s girlfriend was going to be the next one on your list.”
The director’s calm demeanor was slipping. He was in full rage mode now. He fought his bonds to get up again, and Four tapped him with the rifle butt.
“Israel,” I objected. “Tell him to stop. This isn’t right.”
“I’m going to kill you, Four.”
“Like you killed your lover?”
“I told you, I didn’t kill her.”
“You haven’t heard all the arguments yet, Merritt,” Israel reasoned.
I was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the vulgar language and the violent tactics that were being exhibited. This confrontation was turning into an inquisition. Israel was a man I no longer recognized. I didn’t like the side of him I was seeing.
“You’re not making the rules here, Willard,” Four interrupted. “We are. Israel, continue.”
“Then one day, and it was bound to happen, the way you two went at it like rabbits, as I understand it, you knocked up your mistress. Now you were fucked. How could you explain this to your wife, to Miss Julia. You weren’t ready to give up that fancy ranch and lifestyle, embarrass yourself in front of the community and your daughters, and stain your reputation, and hell, maybe you even had feelings for Miss Julia. So when Savannah Braddock told you she was pregnant, you had no choice. You had to kill her. Isn’t that the way it happened?”
Tears were streaming from the director’s eyes. I wished I had never asked to come along on this intervention/mock trial. I couldn’t take much more of this. Maybe Israel’s strategy was to push the director to his limits to get him to confess, but somewhere along the way he had crossed a boundary.
The director continued crying softly. I bit my lip. This was difficult to watch.
“Isn’t it? Do you deny you got Savannah Braddock pregnant? Do you deny you took a kitchen knife and stabbed your mistress in the stomach, killing her and her unborn child? Your child? And from the autopsy report, it was a slow and painful death.”
The director choked. “It was my fault. I am responsible.”
“There, now we’re getting somewhere,” Israel said. “Why don’t you tell us exactly how it happened.”
The Alibi Page 13
