The Cheater

by Nancy Taylor Rosenberg

  Lily tried to make it up the stairs, then gave up. She had to find a way to break the spasm. She went to the downstairs guest bathroom, removed her clothes, and jumped in the shower, letting the hot water pound against her back. When she got out, she put on the same clothes and stretched out on the sofa with Gabby. All she wanted to do was rest her eyes for a few minutes, then she would call Anne and tell her she couldn’t get together with her tonight.

  THIRTY

  FRIDAY, DECEMBER 1

  QUANTICO, VIRGINIA

  Mary Stevens, Genna Weir, and SAC John Adams were hurtling through the sky on a military jet en route to Vandenberg, where a chopper was waiting to take them to Ventura.

  “The warrant’s signed, sir,” Mary said, having just got off the phone with Detective Sawyer. “The sheriff’s office has units standing by at a Ralphs Supermarket about five blocks away from the residence. They’ll be assisting us in executing the search warrant.”

  “Do we know yet if the residence is occupied, Stevens?” Adams asked, leaning around in his seat.

  “They had a unmarked car do a drive-by earlier today. My instructions were to make no contact, only observe and report.”

  “You didn’t answer my question. Is the residence occupied or not?”

  “We’re not certain,” Mary said, anxious. “Deputy Covington reported that he saw a black Nissan 350Z at three-fifteen, bearing Florida license XIU555, backing out of the driveway of the residence. The vehicle is registered to Anne Hall, 1435 Palm Lane, in Fort Lauderdale. Deputy Covington checked Florida DMV, and Ms. Hall is a twenty-three-year-old Caucasian female, five-foot-five, a hundred and nine pounds, with red hair and hazel eyes. Deputy Covington ran wants and warrants on her. She came up clean, sir.”

  “They set up surveillance on her, right?”

  “No, sir,” Mary said, holding her breath until she was forced to exhale. “Covington said he was afraid she would spot him, and he’d been instructed not to make contact.” Adams’s head disappeared. Genna Weir gave her a disapproving look from the seat across from her. Mary gripped the arms on her chair as if the jet were about to go into a nosedive.

  “Damn it, Stevens!” Adams roared. “Why would you give orders not to tail the subject? You know how many strings I had to pull to get this jet in the air on such short notice? Aren’t we trying to arrest a serial killer? A serial killer you’ve convinced everyone is a woman?”

  “Sir, sir, be reasonable,” Mary pleaded, unsnapping her safety belt and moving to the seat across from him. “I didn’t know a female subject would be at the house. The only person linked to this residence is Chuck Brown, or the man we believe is John Joseph Baker. Baker’s not going to be there because he’s in prison at Lompoc. I was afraid some rookie cop would start prowling around and contaminate any evidence that might lead us to the killer. Someone totally unrelated to the crimes may have been driving that vehicle. Maybe it was a cleaning lady, or one of Mabel Richardson’s relatives. Just because they didn’t visit her in the nursing home doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

  Weir interjected, “Twenty-three is a little young, chief, considering how long ago some of the victims disappeared. To be fair to Agent Stevens, I’ve been working her ass off all day. She was only trying to protect the integrity of the crime scene.”

  Mary reminded herself to thank Genna Weir later. She leaned across the narrow aisle, hoping Weir and McIntyre wouldn’t be able to overhear. “Can’t you cut me some slack, Uncle John? You’re making me look like an idiot.”

  “Don’t call me that when we’re handling official business.”

  Mary got in touch with the sheriff’s office and requested that they use all resources available to find the Nissan. As soon as she disconnected, she told Adams, “They’ve already got their chopper in the air, sir. We’ll find the girl, I promise. The sheriff’s office is comprised of approximately two thousand deputies, so we have ample manpower at our disposal.”

  “Call Lompoc and find out what’s happening with the composite.”

  “I’m already on it, chief,” Weir told him. “We should be getting it within the hour.”

  “Good,” Adams said, reclining his seat. “Now, unless something else comes up, I’m going to take a nap. It’s going to be a long night, people. I’d advise you to do the same.”

  When Lily called earlier, Anne had been en route to the house in Thousand Oaks. Instead of taking the trash to the dump as she’d intended, she’d rushed back to the apartment and jumped in the shower. She dressed in a red cowl-neck sweater and a pair of black jeans. She could dispose of the trash later, after she saw Lily.

  Anne walked to Lily’s door and rang the bell. When no one answered, she tried calling Lily on her cell phone. She became annoyed when her call went to voice mail, and disconnected without leaving a message. Lily had promised to call her if something came up. She pounded on the door with her fists, then called out Lily’s name several times.

  As she turned around to head back to her car, a Volkswagen pulled into the driveway and a man stepped out. She squinted, trying to get a look at his face to make certain it wasn’t Bryce. As he moved closer, she decided it couldn’t be Bryce, as this man was at least four inches taller and fifty pounds thinner. She waited for him on the porch, afraid now that something had happened to Lily.

  When they were only a few feet apart, they both stopped and stared at each other. Rendell said, “Have we met before?”

  Anne dropped her eyes. “Not that I know of. I’m a friend of Lily’s. Who are you?”

  “Chris Rendell,” he said, extending his hand. When her arm remained at her side, he added, “Lily and I work together. Is she home? I tried to call her several times and didn’t get an answer.”

  Anne turned around and jiggled the door handle, surprised when it opened. She started to go inside, but Rendell stepped in front of her. “Wait, let me make certain everything’s okay first. You can’t just barge into someone’s home.”

  “That’s what you’re going to do, isn’t it?” So this was her competition, Anne thought. He was certainly good-looking. Lily couldn’t possibly be having an affair with him, though. Only a few days had passed since she’d found out about Bryce.

  “You don’t understand,” he argued. “There was a problem here today.”

  “You mean with her husband? I thought Bryce was in jail in Vegas.”

  “Oh, you know about that?”

  Anne saw him staring at her again, as if all the pieces somehow didn’t fit together. “We were supposed to have a drink tonight. What did Bryce do this time?”

  Rendell ignored her, quietly stepping into the entryway. Gabby started barking and ran up to him, pawing at his leg. A short time later, Lily appeared, looking disheveled. “Anne, I’m so sorry. I fell asleep. Please, come in.”

  Lily’s hair was still wet from the shower. She reached behind and twisted it into a knot. She’d also washed her makeup off. Without makeup, her skin was so pale, she resembled a ghost. Anne had probably been shocked as well. Lily gestured for Rendell to follow her outside. When he did, she pulled the door closed behind her. “I was supposed to have dinner with Anne. I guess this afternoon drained me. I fell asleep and forgot to call her and tell her not to come.”

  “I left my watch here,” he told her. “Sherry gave it to me. I probably left it on the nightstand in your bedroom.”

  “Is it okay if I bring it to work with me Monday? As you can see, I’ve got company right now. To be honest, my back is acting up. The fall this afternoon must have aggravated it. If you don’t mind, I’d rather not climb the stairs.”

  “I could go get it.”

  “Chris, please,” Lily said sharply. “I thought we didn’t want to broadcast what’s going on between us until my divorce is final. If I let you go into my bedroom, Anne will figure it out.”

  His brows furrowed. “That watch means a lot to me, Lily. It was the last thing Sherry ever gave me. Can I come over tomorrow and pick it up?”

 
; “Sure,” she told him. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to it. Now, if you don’t mind . . .”

  After he left, Lily made certain to lock the door this time. Anne was squatting down on the floor petting Gabby. She watched as Lily staggered over and collapsed on the sofa. “What was that guy carrying on about?”

  “Nothing,” Lily said, then decided to tell her what had transpired with Bryce.

  “He hit you! The bastard hit you! Jesus, I’m so sorry, Lily. If I’d been here, I would have beaten the crap out of him.”

  “My back was already a problem, Anne. Falling down might not have caused this pain. I have it from time to time. Anyway—”

  “You want me to go out and get you something? Have you eaten?”

  “No,” Lily told her. “But you don’t have to go out. There’s tons of food in the refrigerator. All I need is something in my stomach so I can take my pain meds.” She paused and then added, “Are you hungry? You can make yourself a sandwich. I’ve got stuff for a salad, too.”

  Anne walked over and tenderly brushed Lily’s hair off her forehead. “I’m sorry you’re in pain. Where’s your medicine? I’ll go get it. Then you can take it as soon as you eat.”

  “In the upstairs bathroom,” Lily said, grimacing. “It’s really sweet of you to do this, Anne. The master is on the right. When you walk into the bathroom, you’ll see a cabinet on the left-hand side. I don’t have any other prescriptions, so you can’t miss it. It’s Vicodin. Just bring the whole bottle down in case I need to take another pill during the night.”

  Anne abruptly halted when she walked into the bedroom, staring at the rumpled sheets in the unmade bed. Then she walked closer and saw a man’s gold watch on the end table. She felt an instant burst of rage. Lily wasn’t the perfect person after all, not if she would sleep around behind her husband’s back. She picked up the watch and carried it with her to the bathroom, placing it on the marble countertop. Returning to the bedroom, she couldn’t find what she needed, so she headed down the hall until she saw the door to the library. On top of the desk was a crystal paperweight. She brought it back to the bathroom and kicked the door shut behind her to muffle the sound, then smashed the face of the watch.

  Sweeping the broken glass into her hand, Anne dumped it in the trash, then placed the watch back where she’d found it on the end table. She yanked the top sheet back and leaned close, sniffing the bed. She would recognize that odor anywhere. Almost leaving without the pills, she went back and retrieved them from the cabinet.

  Spoiled bitch, she thought. Lily wasn’t any better than the men Anne murdered. She wasn’t satisfied with a beautiful home, an important job, and a fat bank account. She and Bryce deserved each other.

  When she came downstairs, she glared at Lily, marching past the sofa with the bottle of pills clutched in her fist. “You’re bleeding,” Lily exclaimed. “What did you do to your hand?”

  “I accidentally broke a bottle of perfume looking for your pills. I guess I cut myself cleaning up the glass. It’s nothing. I’ll make your sandwich now.”

  “That’s a nasty cut. You should cover it to prevent infection. There’s some medicated Band-Aids in the drawer by the sink.” Funny, Lily thought, Anne didn’t reek of cologne. She also didn’t seem bothered that she’d destroyed her property. Regardless if it was an accident, a normal person would apologize. A bottle of cologne today was costly.

  “Don’t worry,” Anne shot out, “I’m not going to bleed on your carpet.”

  “I’m worried about you, not the carpet.”

  “I doubt that,” Anne said, opening the refrigerator and staring at the contents. “No one gives a shit about me. They never have and they never will.”

  Lily propped a pillow behind her head. “Are you mad at me about something? You seem so hostile.” When Anne didn’t answer, she said, “Forget the sandwiches. I need to talk to you.”

  “Oh, yeah. About your affair with the blond stud? Does Bryce know you’re cheating on him? How long has this been going on?”

  “I don’t have to answer your questions,” Lily said, her temper flaring. “Chris Rendell is a judge. We work together. Even if there was something going on between us, it’s none of your business.”

  Anne leaned back against the counter, the refrigerator door standing open. The look on her face suddenly changed and she walked over and stared at Lily’s face. “Fuck, it was you! I can see it now. You killed that man. You blew him away in broad daylight. No one ever found out, did they? The cops never figured out it was a woman. You had something over your head, some kind of cap. But your skin was too pale and your features were too delicate. The neighborhood thugs called you a spook. They knew something wasn’t right.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lily said, her heart pounding against her rib cage. “Maybe you should leave.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Anne said, laughing. “I was a kid then. The foster home I was living in was in Oxnard, right next door to where the shooting occurred. It was early in the morning, dawn, I believe. You were driving a little red car. You used a big gun, a shotgun or a rifle. Ever since that day, I’ve hated loud noises. You know how often I’ve thought about you, fantasized about you? I didn’t tell anyone I was hiding behind the fence that day. I was afraid they’d arrest you.”

  Lily struggled to her feet. “What you’re saying is absurd, Anne. Please go home and leave me alone. I’m not feeling well.”

  “I know I’m not mistaken,” Anne continued. “That mole on your right cheek.”

  “Millions of people have moles. Don’t you realize how foolish you sound? Even if the shooter had a mole, it’s doubtful you could have seen it from that distance. Hearing you talk like this makes me question exactly what happened between you and Bryce in Vegas. Filing a false accusation is a serious crime, Anne.”

  “Not as serious as murder.” Anne shook her head as if to clear it. “It all makes sense now. You killed the man who raped you and your daughter. I think I even remember his last name . . . Hernandez. They were all gangsters over there. I was beginning to develop breasts and the two brothers were always saying nasty things to me. I ran away because I knew they would eventually catch me alone and attack me.”

  Since Tessa had told Anne about the rapes, Anne had wrongfully come to the conclusion that her neighbor, Bobby Hernandez, had been the rapist. What other reason would Lily have to shoot him? “Didn’t you hear me before?” Lily shouted, unable to tolerate her inside her house a moment longer. “I want you to leave! If you don’t, I’m going to call the police.” She headed to the kitchen to get the portable phone, but Anne grabbed it and shoved it down the back of her jeans. How could she call the police, anyway? Anne could expose her. Granted her story might sound far-fetched, but there were people like Hennessey who would jump at the chance to take her down.

  “You can’t make me leave, Lily,” Anne said, smiling. “I witnessed you kill a man, and now you’re a damn judge. I could call the Oxnard police right now and they’d reopen the case. Murder has no statute of limitations. Your life would be ruined, even if they weren’t able to convict you.”

  Lily felt trapped and desperate. She couldn’t just dismiss her. She had to find a way to deal with her, convince her she was mistaken. “The man who raped my daughter and me is on death row. His name is Marco Curazon, not Hernandez. Everything about this case has been documented. If you don’t believe me, you can call the DA’s office tomorrow and confirm it. Now will you please go home and let me rest? I’m in pain.”

  “You’re were my hero,” Anne said, a dreamy look in her eyes. “You had the guts to stand up for yourself. I hated my life. Everyone had hurt me. My father abandoned me on the side of the road in the dead of winter. I almost froze to death.”

  She walked around Lily and sat down on the edge of the sofa, removing her shoes, socks, and then the prostheses. “This is what my father did to me. Do you have any idea what it’s like to be a deformed orphan? After I saw you blow H
ernandez away, I wanted to be just like you. I wanted to kill every rotten man in the world.”

  Jesus Christ, Lily thought, I’ve invited a serial killer into my home! Anne was the person the FBI was after. She didn’t appear to be armed, but Lily couldn’t be certain. Regardless, now was the time to make a run for it. The woman couldn’t chase after her without the prostheses on her feet.

  Lily sprinted toward the door, ignoring the pain in her back. Anne lunged at her, knocking her face first onto the floor. Lily kicked out and connected with Anne’s forehead, then pulled herself up by the doorknob. Before she could get the bolt unlatched, Anne slammed into her back, pinning her to the door.

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Anne said, her hot breath in Lily’s ear. “I want to hear the truth, understand? Every last detail. I want to know how you got away with it, how you tricked everyone into believing another man raped you and your kid.”