Evil Secrets Trilogy Boxed Set

by Vickie McKeehan

  Baylee couldn’t help it; she spewed out the Diet Coke she’d been sipping. “Quinn, you never cease to put things in perspective. I really love that about you.”

  Just like they’d done when they were younger, when they’d first discovered boys weren’t completely gross, Baylee took the conversation in stride. These two were like sisters, the closest thing to family she had.

  “Since you insist on the deets, I’ve overheard a few phone conversations. Women call the house, leave messages on his machine, his cell phone, and leave assorted TM’s day and night. That doesn’t even address the e-mails he must get. I know they aren’t all work related, either. But guys, Dylan’s unattached, a free agent. He’s playing the game. No single guy in L.A. lives the celibate life. Why he asked me to move in is a mystery to me. Go figure.”

  Kit sighed, remembering those days of L.A. dating. “God, I am so glad I’m off the market. I wouldn’t go back to that world again for anything.”

  Quinn bumped her shoulder. “You finally landed The Jake. Come on, Kit, admit it. You were never into the game the same way Baylee and I were. We knew you always held out hope The Jake would come around.”

  “Maybe,” Kit agreed as she took a long look at Baylee. “When I was in the hospital Dylan asked me about you,” Kit admitted with a wide grin.

  “He did?” Taken aback, Baylee crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the counter, feeling a lot like this was junior high again. “Are you sure he meant it that way, maybe he just wanted to know because he…” Her voice trailed off as she stared at the comical look on Kit’s face.

  “He wanted to know if you were with anyone.” Kit jabbed Baylee in the ribs. “He’s definitely relationship interested.”

  “More like interested in another conquest,” Quinn added.

  In spite of that kiss they’d shared, Baylee didn’t want to admit she’d had doubts that a man like Dylan could really be interested in her of all people, a single mom. Why would he be when he could have any woman he wanted?

  Although he seemed to like Sarah well enough and enjoyed being around her, the fact that he had women calling him all the time was something she couldn’t ignore. She wouldn’t. The guy was a major player. It seemed to her that if Dylan had so many women in his fan base, women of his own choosing, women he didn’t even have to work to get, he certainly wouldn’t zero in on her.

  Before she’d had Sarah, she knew firsthand the L.A. dating scene could be brutal. She’d seen Dylan’s kind a hundred times. The typical player didn’t own a beating heart where women were concerned.

  Quinn narrowed her eyes, stared hard at Baylee. As if reading her thoughts, Quinn warned, “Don’t go there. You can’t change a guy like that. You’re here in his house temporarily. Don’t start getting ideas that you can tame him. It’s not possible. If you’re uncomfortable here, say the word; you know you and Sarah can bunk with me.”

  They’d already had this discussion, but it was nice to hear the offer again. “I’m fine. The idea of moving again makes my stomach hurt. I’m not falling for Dylan. He’s a nice guy, but that’s it. I have to think of what’s best for Sarah. That’s first and foremost. And not just in that arena either. Besides, this is nonsense, a guy like Dylan is not interested in someone like me.”

  Sensing a dip in Baylee’s self-confidence, Kit shot a quick look toward Quinn before reminding Baylee, “Hey, he’d be lucky to get a woman like you.”

  “Damn straight,” Quinn agreed. “You’re too good for him.” Then just as they’d done since they were eight, Quinn held out a curved pinky on each hand, the gesture a symbol of their unity. Kit held out hers and Baylee did the same. In a circle, in unison, the three repeated the chant. “Together we let no one hurt us. We are most powerful when we are one. We draw strength from each other. One.”

  They fist-bumped each other as they always did.

  “You guys are the best.”

  Quinn laughed. “We’re fucking awesome.”

  But the idea that Dylan could be attracted to her niggled at the back of Baylee’s head the rest of the afternoon and refused to budge. Surrounded by her friends she tried to concentrate on why they were there, and put Surfer Boy completely out of her mind.

  By the time they’d all gathered around the dining room table, Jake had opened up the boxes of stuff they had acquired from Alana’s attic, the stuff Quinn had used to develop her timeline.

  As they all turned their attention to Quinn, Baylee decided that Dylan was just a nice guy trying to do a good deed. The fact that he seemed to be a giving and generous soul cemented her belief that he obviously felt sorry for her and was more than likely confusing pity with attraction.

  Baylee forced herself to focus on Quinn, who remained standing. They were there to go over the evidence she’d memorized in her spare time. When Quinn picked up a whiteboard that she’d brought to make her points and adjusted it on an easel, Baylee settled down to listen.

  “After our last meeting at Gloria’s, I didn’t feel comfortable with Reese’s ‘sheer speculation’ remark. Let’s face it, I took exception. It hit too close to home and got me to thinking about all those times, all those steps you have to take to convince the authorities a crime has taken place. I know from personal experience how skeptical the powers that be are when it comes to looking at someone who has wealth and power as a suspect—for anything.”

  An image of her stepfather flickered through her mind. Years of practice had her quickly pushing the memories out of her head. “So, I redid the major points on the timeline—twice. It took me some time before I felt good about linking Alana’s cashier’s checks worth half a million dollars to the same timeframe as the settlement the Parkers received from the lawsuit against McKetrick Construction. But then I called Reese and asked him to get me the exact date of the court win and when they actually received their first payment. He provided the dates you see here.” She pointed to the figures written on the whiteboard. “May 1967, the Parkers were awarded a fifteen-million-dollar judgment to be paid out over three years.”

  Reese took it from there. “But the first five million didn’t hit their bank account until December. The second came in November of 1968, and the final payment was delivered in August of 1969. Even though by that time the Parkers were deceased, the money went directly into the Parker trust, which we now know Jessica Boyd controlled.”

  “Why were the installments so erratic?” Dylan asked as he tried to follow the diagram Quinn had drawn on the whiteboard.

  Reese explained, “The settlement sent the construction company into bankruptcy. They had a little trouble meeting the payment schedule. They had to liquidate a few of their assets along the way. The court made sure that the schedule was met, even at one point refusing a motion from the company’s attorneys to prevent them from filing for bankruptcy until the final payment had been delivered. I can only speculate as to who might have put pressure on the court.”

  For clarification, Baylee added, “And by pressure what you’re really suggesting is some judge took a bribe?”

  Before Reese could answer, Quinn piped up, “Let’s not ask the lawyer to speculate about something we can’t prove. After all, we wouldn’t want to put him on the spot and actually have him offer an unqualified opinion in favor of our side.”

  Noting tension beginning to build between Reese and Quinn, Kit quickly concluded, “And the Boyd lawyers were particularly greedy. They weren’t content with getting their cut of say, thirty percent from the lawsuit. No, they wanted all of it, the entire fifteen million. So they devised a plan of action.”

  Reese ignored Quinn’s dig and suggested, “Let’s back up to when this whole thing started with the Parker lawsuit. At some point during trial, the Boyd Boyd Geller & Gatz team realized they were in over their heads. They weren’t winning; the situation looked grim. They needed a new plan.”

  Quinn handed out several more pages of documents. “A good plan, Counselor Brennan. In order to get a better idea of the conv
ersation Jake had with Will Forrester, Alana’s first husband, and an obvious pawn in the whole scam at trial, I needed the gist of their conversation. With Jake’s help I transcribed what was said. According to Forrester’s own words, there were no documents left to show up at trial to prove McKetrick Construction was guilty of anything because he’d personally shredded them all at the behest of management. What’s a smart lawyer to do without documentation? If you’re the clever little shysters at BBG&G, you pony up some fast even when they don’t exist.

  “With Alana having the inside track because she married Forrester, the environmental engineer, she got close enough to him on a 24/7 basis, knowing he holds all the key phrases they needed to make duplicates look real, like the toxicology lingo. Smitten with the sex kitten Alana, Will Forrester admitted to providing the key phrases, the key words. Alana passed the info on to good old Jess and Sumner. And before you know it they had documents that looked good enough to fool even Forrester.

  “In fact, the lingo was so convincing they produced documents good enough to fake out McKetrick in court. They bluffed their way past the other side to victory. Score points for their side. It’s as simple as that.

  “My guess is those cashier’s checks the guys found in the attic were Alana’s payment for her role as Forrester’s wife.” She held up a staying hand as Reese started to object and said, “Speculation. Sure. But at some point you have to concede the fact that Forrester said there were no other documents. Who gets close to Forrester and finds out there are no papers proving the dumping, even goes so far as to marry the guy? Alana.

  “If you read what Forrester says, one day the documents just show up on his desk.” She cast a sneer Reese’s way and added, “Unless, of course, you believe they were delivered by the document fairy. I suspect they had to test the waters, find out whether or not the forged docs looked real enough to pass muster in court. So they forged a few, left them on Forrester’s desk for verification. When he panicked, they knew their documents looked good enough and started applying some pressure on the engineer.

  “Then they forced the guy into testifying at trial, and dropped the bomb that he shredded what he thought were the only documents. Defense panicked, called for a recess, settled out of court, again victory for their side.

  “Who dumps him as soon as the trial ends in their favor? Alana. And Forrester was there, caught up in the trial, our only living witness that we know of. That’s his theory as well, and I’m buying into it right along with him.” Quinn turned to stare at Reese. “The Parkers won fifteen million. BBG&G got thirty percent of the take. Somewhere down the road they got greedy. When they realized this old couple’s only son is missing in Vietnam, they saw an opening. They hatched the murder idea and used the Manson killing spree to cover their tracks. Fortuitous creatures to be sure. For forty years it worked. So Counselor Brennan, who are you going to side with, those bloodsuckers at BBG&G and the deadly Alana, or Will Forrester, a guy caught up in the whole thing, a guy who loses the woman he thinks loves him and his career all in one fell swoop?” She had him there, Reese thought. “Did you ever consider a career in law, Dr. Tyler?”

  She grinned in spite of the dislike for the man.

  “Okay, I’ll concede the fact you make a plausible argument. But we need something concrete.”

  “That would be the gun,” Baylee pointed out.

  “For safekeeping and to get it out of the trunk of Jake’s car, I turned it over to Donovan, who’s prepared to take it to the sheriff’s department just as soon as we can get someone over there in the cold case department to return our calls. It hasn’t been easy.” In his courtroom voice, Reese warned, “But guys, just because…”

  Quinn didn’t let him get any farther before she lost her temper, glaring at Reese in disgust. Cutting him off, she pointed out, “You know, I’m getting kind of tired of your gloom and doom attitude. It’s one thing to be the voice of reason, but to be a constant horse’s ass, against all reason, against everything we’re trying to do here, that’s getting old.”

  Reese eyed the fireball that was Quinn. Those exotic almond eyes burned a hole through him. He was determined to get past the fact that the good doctor didn’t like him very much. And he hadn’t become the best criminal attorney in L.A. without storing up plenty of drive and determination along the way, with a steady supply of stubbornness thrown in for good measure.

  So he gave her a patient look. “The point I was about to make is simple. We need the actual police report from forty years ago. We don’t even know if the gun that killed the Parkers was a .357 without the police report. That means we’ll need to get them to sit down with us at some point, persuade them to dig through their evidence room.”

  When Quinn started to speak, he quickly added, “At this point we don’t even know that the evidence still exists. Like I said, Jordan Donovan and I have called a number of times and left messages. Getting the sheriff’s department to take another look at a forty-year-old double murder case is tougher than you might think. And remember, if we think Jessica Boyd and Alana killed the Parkers, the suspects are dead and buried at this point. What motivation do the police have to care about this case now? It’s just us, or rather, Kit that has the greatest interest in this, so we need to do some fancy convincing to get them moving. Baylee’s right, the gun is it. The Parkers have no family to prod the police along. After all this time, it’s forgotten. If the evidence is still sitting there gathering dust in a box, it’s still just us. It doesn’t mean it’s impossible, just that we may have to go the extra mile to make it happen.”

  The expression on Quinn’s face said she was mollified with his response, but her demeanor remained stoic. “I guess that’s as close as I’ll get to getting you to admit I did my homework on this.”

  Looking through the papers, Dylan admitted, “I’m impressed with the work, Quinn. But if we get them to reopen this thing and it points to Alana and Jessica… ” His voice trailed off as he sent Kit a sympathetic look.

  Kit picked up on what he was thinking. “For me, knowing for certain would close that chapter of my life for good. I know what kind of person Alana was. Knowing what happened to the Parkers and believing in my heart Alana was responsible, if that gun ties her to the crime, then the money, that money she got from the sale of the ranch and the land was just wrong. She lived very well on her portion of the Parker money. Let’s face it; they all did, Jessica and Sumner, Frank Geller, and Eva Gatz. They founded a legal empire with that money, not to mention developed a sprawling estate on the shores of Malibu. Knowing that, do you think I could live with myself if I took a dime from Alana’s estate? Before I knew about the murders, I didn’t want the house or anything she owned, but now, knowing she might have benefited…from the murders of that old couple, there isn’t anything that’ll stop me from getting to the truth when we’re this close…”

  But Jake reminded her, “I have a feeling the Boyds will give it one helluva try. And we have to be ready for whatever they bring.” He didn’t throw out his belief that Collin would do anything to prevent both of them from testifying, but then he was pretty sure she had already lost sleep over that.

  “At the risk of being labeled the voice of gloom and doom again,” Reese gave Quinn a look of pure lawyer-like scorn before going on, “I have to caution all of you that just because Alana hid the gun in the attic doesn’t mean she used it in the commission of a crime. She could have been holding it for someone or…”

  Again, Quinn interrupted like a volcano. “Spoken like a true criminal defense attorney. Look, we aren’t stupid. We know all that, Reese. We aren’t here to send Jessica Boyd and Alana Stevens to jail.” She leaned toward him and said emphatically, “You yourself just admitted they’re dead. They aren’t going anywhere. But for Kit’s sake, and Gloria’s, since they are the ones who’ve been living with these nightmares about the Parker murders for weeks now, I think we need to find out what really happened to them. And it would be nice to solve a forty-year-old m
urder mystery. I know in a way this is all based on speculation, but I think to do this we need to be able to step outside the box from time to time. If you can’t do that…”

  Like two sparring boxers exchanging blows in the ring, it was Reese’s turn to cut her short. “I can think outside the box. I can come up with a reasonable explanation as to what really happened to the Parkers. I can buy into the theory. I don’t have a problem with that, but keep in mind we’ve done a lot of assuming here. You can’t solve this thing based on assumptions only. At some point you have to have hard evidence. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Agreed,” Quinn said without a trace of hard feelings.

  Reese turned to stare at her. “I must have misunderstood.”

  “Not at all. We’re all trying to come up with something concrete. And you just keep knocking it down. Of course I know that at some point we will have to find hard evidence pointing to Jessica and Alana connecting them to the murders. But can we agree if the gun turns out to be significant that has to count in the grand scheme even if we can’t put it in the hands of Alana or Jessica or Sumner Boyd for that matter.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Well, now that we have that out of the way,” Dylan said a little too cheerfully as he pushed back from the table and stood up. “Let’s have some of Kit’s chocolate cheesecake.”

  Later, after Reese and Quinn had left and it was just the four of them tidying up Dylan’s dining room, Baylee was putting all the papers back into the boxes when she picked up Kit’s birth certificate, examining it line by line.

  “You were a skinny little thing. Look at this, you only weighed five pounds when you were born. How can someone who weighed so little at birth grow up to be such an Amazon woman now?”

  She waved the paper in the air at Kit and added, “As hard as this thing was to find, don’t you think you should keep it in a better place?”