by Debra Webb
Elizabeth stared at Patricia. “What did you do, Mother?”
Patricia glanced around the room as if buying time while she came up with an excuse. “I...I gave him something to help him sleep, dear. That’s all. Maybe he’ll do better after he’s had some rest.”
“Doesn’t matter now,” Annette blurted, hoping to keep the tension mounting between mother and daughter. Both glared at her. “Like I said,” Annette improvised, “Dane told us everything. I know what you did.”
“Dane’s an idiot,” Elizabeth contended. “Drugs have ruined him. But he would never do anything to hurt me.”
What now? Annette had just one genuine ace up her sleeve. “Dane is dead, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth’s mouth went slack. Her eyes widened for a moment before the fury resurrected. “I don’t believe you.”
“He took those tranquilizers your mother gave him, rented himself a hotel room, and checked out.” Annette needed Elizabeth confused, emotional. Anything but determined.
“You’re lying.”
Annette shrugged. “Call the Holiday Inn Express in Fultondale. Ask them to check room two fourteen. Your brother’s there, he’s dead.” She glanced at the older woman. “Why don’t you ask your mother exactly what she did?”
The weapon in Elizabeth’s hand shook. “I don’t believe you.” She jerked out her cell phone, entered a number, and waited for an answer.
“Don’t listen to her,” Patricia scolded.
Elizabeth ignored her mother. “Dane! Call me as soon as you get this message. I need to hear your voice.”
“He won’t get your message,” Annette warned. “He’s dead. She killed him.”
Elizabeth stared at her phone as if willing it to ring.
“Elizabeth, baby,” Patricia pleaded. “I had to do it. It was the only way to protect you. Dane just kept getting worse and worse. It was time to give up on him and put him out of his misery for all our sakes.”
Elizabeth’s demeanor went abruptly and eerily calm. “You didn’t have to do that, Mother,” she said placidly. “I could have talked to him.” She backed a step or two away from Patricia. “You always overreact. You kill everything I love. I can’t even have a pet because of you! You’ll probably kill Carson, too, if he makes a single mistake.”
Annette felt sick at the idea of what these two had done. What they would continue to do if someone didn’t stop them.
“I’ve always protected you,” Patricia reminded as she reached out to her daughter. “I won’t ever let anyone hurt you.”
The sound of the weapon discharging exploded in the room. Annette’s breath trapped in her lungs.
Patricia stared at her daughter for one long beat before looking down at her chest. Blood gurgled from the small hole near her heart, spilled down her pink blouse. Patricia opened her mouth to speak but crumpled to the floor in a lifeless heap instead. Her eyes remained open as if even in death she wanted to see how this ended.
“Max, come here!” Elizabeth commanded.
Annette’s body shook with equal measures fear and shock. She tried to rationalize what she’d just witnessed. Elizabeth Drake had killed her mother. Annette’s muscles quivered once more then turned to lead. She told herself to breathe. She had to make a move or stand here and let this bitch kill her, too.
“Noooo!” Max wailed. “Don’t make me!”
“Come here,” Elizabeth ordered, “or they’ll come for you and I’ll let them.”
The old man struggled onto all fours and crawled unsteadily to where Elizabeth stood.
“Please,” he begged, “I don’t want them to come.”
“They brought you that dog as a warning,” Elizabeth told him. “Don’t make me call them back.”
Max began to moan and weep.
What the hell kind of power did Elizabeth have over that poor man? Who the hell were they?
“No one’s coming, Max,” Annette promised, anger mounting inside her, overtaking the fear. By God, she wasn’t going down without a fight. “You don’t need to be afraid. Elizabeth is lying to you. Patricia brought the dog.”
Elizabeth’s gaze collided with Annette’s. “Shut up!”
“What’s the matter?” Annette smiled as if victory already belonged to her. “You afraid he’ll realize you have no power over him?”
“I said, shut up!” Elizabeth pointed the weapon at Max. “Shut up or I’ll shoot him.”
Max howled in agony, curled into a ball of pure terror.
Annette refused to let go of her courage. “You can’t shoot us both at the same time. Who’re you going for first? Him or me?” She eased one foot in front of the other as if bracing to make a move.
The gun’s barrel swung back in Annette’s direction. “Maybe I’ll just shoot you and blame it on Max. After all, you’re a stranger. No one would question it. You showed up and he shot you. Everyone knows he’s crazy.”
“Does Max own a weapon?” If Annette could keep her talking a little longer, she might just be able to come up with a plan.
Elizabeth smirked. “That can always be arranged after the fact, as you well know.”
Determination fired in Annette’s veins. No way was she letting this spoiled brat win. “You’re not that smart, Miss Deputy Mayor.”
“I was smart enough to figure out how to make you squirm.” She smiled sweetly. “Ms. Anderson.”
Murder roared in Annette’s chest. “It was you.”
“The whole plan was so easy,” Elizabeth taunted. “I was touring the center with a group of potential donors and I saw you there. Finding out about your sister, Paula, was simple after that. The staff adores me. My family and I help keep them fully funded. They have to love me.”
Annette wanted to kill her for what she’d done to Paula. But not yet. Dane was dead. Patricia was dead. She needed Elizabeth alive. She needed the whole truth. “Did your plan include murdering Dr. Holderfield, too?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m not telling you anything else.”
“Wainwright probably gave the order,” Annette goaded. “Did he make you do it?”
“Please.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Wainwright doesn’t give the orders. My father was the one in charge. The others did what he told them.” Elizabeth straightened her jacket with her free hand and smoothed her hair. “No matter the mess, the cleanup is always quite civilized. Lynch makes sure every last detail is taken care of. Just like he’ll do here.”
Annette wasn’t surprised that Lieutenant Lynch was involved. He would know exactly how to ensure that the evidence, if any, pointed in the right direction. “I guess he screwed up on the gun that’s supposed to be registered to my alias.”
Elizabeth laughed drily. “Don’t you worry. That minor issue will be resolved, and you’ll be charged.” She sighed. “Posthumously, it seems. Now put your hands up, away from your body. Make any sudden moves and I will shoot you.”
Slowly, Annette raised her hands in a gesture of surrender. “So, you’re going to kill me and pin it on Max,” she wondered aloud. “But then there’s Dane’s admission to having killed Carson’s family. Who’s going to fix that? Carson’s not going to forgive you for keeping Dane’s secret.”
“Please,” Elizabeth rebuffed, “my brother couldn’t have admitted all that. He doesn’t have the guts to say it, much less go through with it.”
Well, well. If Dane didn’t do it… “I suppose you had the guts, Princess.” The sweet, wholesome image the media played up made Annette want to puke. If they only knew...
“Don’t call me that!” Elizabeth waved the gun. “You have no idea what I can or cannot do much less what I’ve done.”
“I wouldn’t even believe you killed your mother,” Annette countered, “if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”
Elizabeth cocked her head, stared down the length of the barrel. “Maybe I will kill you just to shut you up. Then Carson and I can finally be happy.”
Annette kicked back the panic that threatened her co
ol. “If you really loved Carson, why murder his family? What did they do to you?”
“Shut up!” Elizabeth crowded in on her, jammed the barrel of the weapon into Annette’s chest. “You don’t know anything about me!”
Renewed terror held Annette mute for a pulse-pounding instant. Elizabeth’s eyes danced with something that looked exactly like insanity. An epiphany hit Annette. Like mother, like daughter. No matter that the business end of a weapon poked her sternum, Annette pushed a knowing smile into place. “Genetics can be a bitch sometimes.”
Fury claimed Elizabeth’s face. “I am not like my mother!” she screamed. “She was the one, not me.” A moment passed as she visibly struggled to regain her composure. “She did it, so they wouldn’t know.”
Annette had to keep her talking. She needed every last detail. “Wouldn’t know what? That you loved Carson and his family? Your mother must not have understood or she wouldn’t have killed his family.”
“Are you stupid? Of course, she knew I loved Carson. That’s why she had to do it.”
What the hell? Keep it together, Annette. Get all the facts. If you survive, you’ll need them...for Carson. “I think maybe you’re just as nuts as your mother.”
“I am not like her!” Elizabeth screamed. “I never did anything that bad.” She shook her head adamantly. “It’s not like I killed the stupid girl. She fell down the stairs and broke her shoulder. It was an accident. She was clumsy. Just because she was a cheerleader didn’t mean she wasn’t clumsy. But then she wouldn’t come back to our house anymore and Father blew it all out of proportion.”
Annette felt cold with certainty. Though she didn’t know this story, she could easily imagine what really happened. “You pushed her.” It wasn’t until she saw the rabid look on Elizabeth’s face that Annette realized she’d said the words out loud.
Silence thickened between them for one endless second.
“It...was...an...accident.” Elizabeth’s lips quivered with rage. “But he wouldn’t believe me so he forced me to be evaluated. To endure therapy sessions.”
Annette’s heart thumped hard with her next realization. Carson’s mother. The renowned child psychologist. Annette suddenly knew where this was going. “Dr. Tanner was your therapist.”
“That stupid woman wanted to send me away.” Elizabeth jeered at the idea. “She said there were indicators that I might have uncontrollable violent tendencies. Father was going to do it, too! He thought it would be best for me. He would tell everyone I was away at a prestigious school. No one would ever know. And when I came back I’d be well.”
Annette now knew the truth that Carson Tanner had searched for all those years. “Patricia killed Carson’s mother to keep the truth from coming out. About you.”
“She was only protecting me.” Elizabeth tilted her chin in challenge. “There was no other choice.”
What next? What next? “You probably tried to stop her.” Good idea. Act like you’re on her side. “You knew it would hurt Carson, so you tried to stop your mother.”
Elizabeth stared at her, those green eyes glittering wildly. Her respiration still ragged. But at least she wasn’t screaming or poking the gun deeper into Annette’s ribs. “I was with Carson that night. He’d had too much to drink because of the fight with his mother. Mother said the timing was perfect. We couldn’t wait.”
Annette remembered Carson saying he’d blacked out, didn’t remember anything. It wasn’t impossible that the alcohol alone had done that, but considering the rest of the story, Annette wasn’t convinced. “He was upset.” She lowered her hands a little, braced to tackle the other woman. “You had to be there for him. Calm him down.”
Elizabeth sighed as if she were weary of the subject. “The pills calmed him down.”
Annette restrained the outrage that burned in her chest at what these evil bitches had done to Carson. “Sure.” She nodded agreeably. “He needed the pills.”
“That’s what Mother said.” Elizabeth stared right through Annette as if recalling some faraway memory. “Put two in his drink and he’ll rest. Everything will be all right after that.”
Somehow Annette had to make sure Carson learned the truth. All of it. She had to keep Elizabeth calm. Had to figure a way out of this damned shack without a bullet in her chest. “But you didn’t hurt his family,” she reminded the woman with the gun. “You were with Carson. Dane and your mother were the ones.”
“She made Dane help her.” Elizabeth still had that distant look in her eyes. “He didn’t want to.”
“You and Dane were victims,” Annette urged with all the sympathy she could fake. “None of this was your fault.”
Elizabeth blinked for the first time since she’d stopped shouting. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” All signs of vulnerability disappeared as she firmed her grip on the weapon. “I have to decide what to do with you.”
So much for reverse psychology. Make a move. Any move. Now or never. Now!
“Max, they’re coming!” Annette shouted.
Max clambered to his feet. “Huh?”
Elizabeth jerked her attention in his direction.
Annette rammed her. They hit the floor in a tangle.
A bullet discharged, the sound exploding in the air.
Annette bit the other woman’s cheek. Elizabeth screamed.
Using all her strength, Annette wrenched the weapon out of Elizabeth’s hand. It spun across the floor.
“Whore!” Elizabeth grabbed Annette by the hair with both hands. “You have to die!”
“Stop!” Max screamed.
Annette fought like a wildcat to pin Elizabeth down.
“Stop!”
In her peripheral vision Annette got a look at Max. He had the gun. Shit.
“He’s got the gun,” she warned.
Elizabeth released Annette’s hair. They pulled apart, scrambled to get up, both very much aware that anything could happen with the weapon in the hands of a mentally unstable man currently off his meds.
“Give me the gun, Max,” Elizabeth ordered.
“Don’t listen to her, Max,” Annette urged. “They came with her.”
Max blinked, focused the weapon on Elizabeth. “It’s you.” He nodded. “You’re the one who hurt them.”
Oh hell. “Max,” Annette pleaded, “let me have the gun.” If he killed Elizabeth...
“Drop the weapon, Mr. West.”
Annette’s attention veered toward the intrusion.
Lieutenant Lynch loomed in the open doorway, a lethal bead on Max. “I said,” he repeated, “drop the weapon.”
Max hesitated only a second, then he let go of the weapon as if it had burned his hands. It plopped to the floor.
“Thank God you’re here,” Elizabeth said, her posture sagging with relief. “She killed Mother!” Then the sobs began.
Damn. Just Annette’s luck that a dirty cop would come to the rescue. Had Schaffer called in backup? If this was Annette’s backup, she might as well kiss her ass goodbye.
She wondered if Carson would ever know the whole story. The idea that he might end up with this twisted bitch made Annette’s chest ache. “Detective, you don’t—”
“Don’t say a word, Ms. Baxter,” Lynch ordered. “Anything you say can and will be held against you.”
Fucking perfect.
Elizabeth sidled away from Annette, moving toward the door and the man who was her ally. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t gotten here when you did, Lieutenant. She would have killed me, too.”
“Turn around,” Lynch said to Elizabeth. “Put your hands behind your back.”
Birmingham’s princess stared at him in shock. “What did you say?”
“Do it! Now!” he commanded. “Or I’ll have no choice but to use force.”
Annette watched, bewildered, as the detective cuffed Elizabeth.
“You’re next,” he said to Annette. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
Then An
nette knew. When she turned her back he would shoot. She would be out of the way without a lengthy, media-hyped trial. Damn.
“Do it,” Lynch demanded. “Turn around now!”
Annette had no choice.
She summoned the image of Carson Tanner, wished him well, and turned her back to the man with the gun.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
5:40 a.m.
Criminal Justice Center
Carson sat down behind his desk. He surveyed the files and notes he’d left yesterday...or had it been the day before that? Damn, he was so tired he couldn’t remember.
“Let’s do a sound check.”
“Loud and clear,” Carson said, answering Schaffer’s voice coming across the tiny communication piece in his ear.
The clear microfiber device stuck to his lapel would pick up his voice as well as any sound in the room. Schaffer and Davis were monitoring the communication link from the Bureau’s van down the block from the Criminal Justice Center.
“Heads up, Tanner,” Davis said, “Wainwright has entered the parking garage.”
Carson prepared for the confrontation. He’d spent five years admiring Donald Wainwright. Wanting to be just like the man. Wainwright had been like a father to him. Far more than a mentor and boss.
The idea that Wainwright had anything to do with this cover-up tore at Carson’s insides. How could he do that to Carson? He’d watched Carson go through hell all those years. How could he have done it to Carson’s family?
And Drake. How the hell could he have known what he apparently had and look Carson in the eye? Have him to dinner?
The idea that Dane had been involved felt wrong. Dane had never been a fighter. Never a bully. He’d been harmless. That part just didn’t make sense.
Carson’s office door flew open. Wainwright barged in. Maybe now Carson would know the whole truth.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Carson?”
The DA’s face was rage red, the veins in his neck bulging with fury. Otherwise he looked exactly as he did every day. Classic suit, crisp shirt, and distinguished tie.