The Elizabeth McClaine Thriller Boxed Set

by Catherine Lea

  “But … this is my home. What’s happened?” she said and looked upstairs.

  “A woman appears to have been assaulted in one of the upstairs bedrooms. I believe it’s Miss Alvarez.”

  “Sienna? But what’s she doing here? What did she say?”

  “Does she have a key to the house?”

  “Yes, but … is she all right? Perhaps I should call an ambulance.”

  “She’s dead, Mrs. McClaine. I’m sorry.”

  “What? Oh my God,” Elizabeth said, just as the front door opened and Officer Wallace strode in. He glanced at Elizabeth, then took Delaney aside and told him something that made Delaney look up sharply.

  “Mrs. McClaine,” Delaney said, gently taking her arm and steering her toward the living room. “Why don’t you come in here and sit down.”

  “I can’t believe it. Who would want to kill her?” she was saying, still looking back up the stairs.

  Delaney noticed the envelope in Elizabeth’s hand. “Where was that?”

  She looked down at the envelope in surprise, and handed it to him. “Over there. Just behind the door. I have to call Richard.” She pulled her phone from her bag with trembling hands and hit his number. Behind her, Delaney and Wallace carefully opened the note, then slipped it into a plastic bag and sealed it.

  Richard answered her call sounding tired and edgy. She told him in hushed tones that Sienna was dead, that they had to find somewhere else to stay.

  “Dear God, Richard, what are we going to do?” she asked him in a strained whisper. “We’re broke, our daughter’s been stolen, and now this.” And she burst into tears.

  He heaved a weary sigh. “I’ll book us into a hotel.”

  “Can we afford it?” she blurted out, and glanced back at the officers in case they had heard.

  “It sounds like we don’t have a lot of choice. I’ll write it off as a campaign expense, but—”

  “But what?”

  “Just get back here as soon as you can,” he said and hung up.

  *****

  Elizabeth and Delaney sat facing each other in the exact positions they had sat in not eight hours earlier, except this time, Officer Wallace stood at the door like a sentry while they waited for the crime scene unit. So much had happened—Holly kidnapped, Sienna dead. Not to mention they were now broke and, dear God, could it get any worse? If the day had been long, Elizabeth could see the night stretching out in front of her like a never-ending slide into oblivion, an impending plummet that she could not avoid, and would probably never escape from.

  And worse yet, the only drink in the house was now marked as police evidence.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  DAY TWO: 12:10 AM—KELSEY

  The party was in full swing by the time Kelsey got back. She heard the music the second she turned the corner, then saw the lights brightening the neighborhood from the end of the street. Now cars lined either side of the roadway while people milled around, and groups of laughing, raucous party-goers collected in bunches out in front of the party house and spilled out onto the street.

  “Shit.” She drove slowly along the length of the street, wondering who the hell Matt had rented a place like this from. Downtown Cleveland, Ohio, on a Saturday night, you could understand. But this was Shit City back streets on a Thursday—and after midnight, if you don’t mind, and all you could see was car after car parked up and down the street and a friggin’ Mardi Gras in full swing.

  She inched the SUV along the car-lined street, slowing almost to a stop every now and then to allow clutches of muscled-up guys and slutty-looking girls to part like the Red Sea so she could maneuver the car on through. A few taps on the hood, raps on the roof as she passed. Avoiding them but otherwise ignoring them, she swung the car into the driveway and cut the engine. She quickly collected up the paper bag containing the toy lion and the eye drops, then got out and hurried toward the house.

  “Hey you,” shouted a guy from across the street. When she turned, he called, “You wan’ some of this?” and he grabbed his crotch while the girls around him threw their heads back and laughed like a bunch of friggin’ hyenas.

  “Thanks, I’m trying to give it up,” she called and they all laughed even louder. She could still hear them as she mounted the stairs and pushed her way in through the front door.

  A single bulb illuminated the room, its thin watery light pulsing as images jumped and flashed across the TV. Matt was perched on the edge of the living room sofa while Lionel lounged back in his chair with his feet on the coffee table in the exact same position as he was when she left, so she knew she’d have to pick her time to talk to Matt. The second they turned towards her, she felt the tension. Matt muted the TV and got to his feet. His mouth was a light line.

  “Where have you been?” he said.

  “At the house. I went by the Giant Eagle on Biddulph Avenue because that was the nearest twenty-four-hour—”

  “You’ve been gone almost two fuckin’ hours.”

  “Yeah well, y’know, it takes time. I took all the backstreets like you said. And I had to get the photo and then get over to the house, and …” They were both glaring at her. “What?”

  Matt casually opened his palms. “Anything happen along the way?”

  Her gaze went from Matt to Lionel and back. This wasn’t the time. “No. Nothing. I got the photos, I dropped the letter—”

  “—and you killed the fuckin’ nanny!” he yelled, and pointed back to somewhere behind him.

  “No! What? No.”

  “Look. Look at the TV, you stupid bitch.” He grabbed her by the back of the neck and propelled her toward the TV. His face was scarlet, eyes blazing. “Look at it. Look at the news.” On the screen a female anchor with perfect teeth and perfect hair reeled off facts as a red band of text trailed the words, “Nanny found slain,” across the bottom.

  “It’s all over the goddamn news, on every channel. The nanny got beaten to death in the house. What the hell happened?” he demanded, and he shoved her away.

  She turned to him. “Matt, I swear it wasn’t me—” she began but he slapped her so hard and so fast, she stopped mid-sentence and put her hand to her cheek.

  “You went inside. I told you not to piss around. I told you to just take the letter.” He slapped her again. “Just drop the letter, that’s all you had to do.” And he slapped her even harder. “And you go and kill the fuckin’ nanny.”

  Her face stung, her eyes watered. “No. It wasn’t like that. Yeah, I went inside but while I was there—”

  He snatched the paper bag out of her hand. “And what’s this?”

  Her face was throbbing, her left ear ringing. “It’s just …”

  But before she could say anything else he had reached in and pulled the toy lion out of the bag and then the medication. He hurled the tiny bottle of eye drops so hard it hit the wall with a crack and the top snapped off. Then his attention was on the toy lion, turning it in his hands, glaring in rage-fueled astonishment from her to the toy and back again. “For this?”

  “It’s her lion. She was asking for it—but I swear I didn’t kill …”

  Teeth clenched, jaw muscles working, Matt gripped the lion in both hands, and started pulling and wrenching at it.

  “Oh God, please Matt, don’t do that,” she begged. She grabbed hold of his arm but he turned away from her, savagely twisting and tearing at the toy, ripping its head off, pulling out stuffing and tossing it aside.

  “Oh come on. Please, Matt, she loves that thing,” she said, but it was too late. Stuffing was flying and Matt was furiously kicking it across the floor. Finally he threw the limp remains across the room.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” she said, dropping to one knee, trying to collect up the stuffing and the torn remains, and one button eye that lay on the floor staring up at her.

  “And you,” Matt growled between clenched teeth as he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to her feet, “you are …”

  He raised his ha
nd to hit her again but a squeal from the stairway stopped him short. They both turned to see Holly standing at the top of the stairs, peering over the railing at them, and sobbing “Ninny, Ninny,” as she snatched at the air.

  Lionel leapt angrily from his seat. “Jesus, fuck. I’ll go. Get back up there, you little shit,” he yelled, and started for the stairs.

  “Leave her alone,” Kelsey called after him, but Matt shoved her so hard, she went reeling backwards and fell on her ass. “Matt, no wait.” She scrambled to her feet. “Matt, will you listen to me,” she begged but all she could hear was Holly screaming. All she wanted to do was run up there to help her. “Matt, listen, just listen.” Finally, he turned to her. “Let me go up to her. I can make her shut up.”

  “I can make her shut up.”

  Kelsey knew what she had to do when Matt was like this. Arguing didn’t work. She had to find reason and she had to do it soon. Holly’s cries reverberated through the house, mingling with the shouts of laughter and revelry outside. “Okay, you’re right. I shouldn’t have gone inside. That was dumb.”

  “It was more than dumb. You’re a fuckin’ idiot. I don’t even know why we brought you along.”

  “You’re right, you’re right. I am, I’m dumb. I shouldn’t have gone in. But if we don’t shut her up, someone out there will hear. And what if they call the cops, huh? What if the cops turn up?” His glare was hard on her, but he was listening. “I’ll go up. I’ll shut her up, we’ll be fine. Nothing’s changed. Okay, the nanny’s dead. I didn’t do it, but what difference does it make? They don’t know about you and Li. Just me. There’s only me in the frame. I’m the only one they know about. Just let me go up to her.”

  He was still glaring, still pissed, but somewhere in there, the thought processes were kicking in.

  “You and Li are in the clear,” she told him again.

  The door upstairs opened and Lionel appeared at the top of the stairs. “She’s shit herself. It stinks up here.”

  “It’s okay. I’ll change her. Let me do it. I’ll keep her quiet.” She reached out her hand, touched it gently to Matt’s face. “Hey, baby, remember? Blue skies and crystal clear water. Far as the eye can see. Just the three of us, and all the money we could ever want? That’s why we’re doing this, right? And Lionel—we’ll get him into rehab, remember? Once he’s clean and we’ve got the money, we’re outta here. We’re home free.”

  Calmer now, he reached up and removed her hand and turned away from her, searching the room as if he had forgotten where he was. But the snarl had gone, the fury abated.

  Lionel stood at the top of the stairs, leaning on the railing. “I can tape her yap shut, that’s no problem. It’s the stink that’s the problem.”

  “Don’t tape her mouth.” Kelsey realized it came out a little too sharp and changed her tone. “Listen, we don’t have to. She trusts me. She’ll be quiet if I tell her to.”

  Matt dropped his head into his hands, scrubbed at his face. “Jesus,” he sighed. He looked tired. He was handsome, he was smart. He had been her rock. That rock was now crumbling, debris sliding in drifts down the cliff-face like an avalanche in the mountains. Deep in the heart of that chaos, a dark rumbling resounded. A tremor that only Kelsey could hear. It had grown louder and louder, gathering momentum as it shifted and crashed. At first, she had ignored it. But now she knew exactly what it was, and what had caused it.

  Right now, that didn’t matter. Whatever they’d once had was gone. Was it Maria Puentez? Was that the final strike? She didn’t know, didn’t care. All she cared about was getting to Holly.

  “Matt, let me go. I’ll get her cleaned up.”

  Too tired to argue, too exhausted to think, he shook her off and waved her away. “Go. Do whatever you have to. Just keep her quiet.”

  “You got it.” She went straight for the stairs. Halfway up, she stepped back to let Lionel pass. As they crossed, their eyes met briefly and he gave her a smirk and a wink. He skipped to the bottom and turned briefly to grin back up at her. Then he went back to his chair.

  *****

  In the upstairs room, Holly was crouched on the bed clutching the filthy comforter to her mouth and sobbing as she peered over it. She lowered the comforter as soon as Kelsey appeared at the door and reached for her.

  “Hey, hey.” Kelsey crossed quickly to the bed and sat on the edge, stroking her hair back off her face and thumbing the tears from her cheeks. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

  Holly’s eyes were puffy and red, her face wet with tears. A trail of clear mucus streamed from her nose down the scar to lips that were red and sticky. Tears swelled and wobbled, then splashed down her cheeks as she snuffled and sobbed. “Nine-a,” Holly hiccupped. “Ah ho,” she said, and jutted a lip.

  “Yeah. He is an asshole. Let’s get that face cleaned up.” When she dug into her pocket in search of a tissue, the first thing she came up with was the keys to the Mercedes. “Ah, not those.” She stuck them back, located the tissue and gently wiped Holly’s nose and mouth. “How about we get those panties changed, huh? You don’t wanna sit in shitty panties.”

  Holly blinked up at her and squeezed her nose. “Poo.”

  Kelsey smiled. “Yeah, they’re a little stinky. Let’s get ’em changed.”

  She took the child’s hand, feeling it small and soft and warm in her own, and helped her from the confines of the covers. Kneeling in front of her, she removed the soiled panties, and found her mouth tightening at the stench. “Boy, you really did fill ’em up.”

  Kelsey went to the bathroom, dropped the panties into the toilet and tore a length of tissue from the roll. She dampened it, then returned. “This is all I got. I don’t have any wipes or nothing. This’ll have to do.”

  As she wiped and patted the child dry, Holly put out a tentative finger, touching it to the swelling on Kelsey’s face where Matt had struck her. Instinctively, Kelsey ducked her head away. “Don’t worry about that. That’s nothin’. I hit it, that’s all.” When she looked up, there was doubt in Holly’s eyes. “I fell down, oopty oop.”

  “Oopny oop. Ah fah down.”

  “That’s right, all fall down, oopty oop.” Kelsey pulled up the clean panties and bundled the child back into the bed. Sitting on the edge, she leaned close and brushed a stray wisp of hair back from Holly’s eyes. “Now listen,” she whispered. “You gotta be real quiet. I’m gonna take you home to your mommy and daddy …”

  “… aangh …”

  “Shh, no I gotta. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even brought you here. But I have to think about how I’m gonna do it. If you make a big noise, it’ll piss Lionel off and that’s gonna make it even harder, y’hear?”

  Holly sat up, eyes locked on Kelsey. She took Kelsey’s face in her little hands and leaned in close. “Ah po’ ’em bo’,” she said, carefully molding the words. “Ah—pop—’em—bo’.”

  Kelsey held her gaze a moment. The words had registered but it was as though she could not absorb them. She took Holly’s hands in hers, held them enclosed in her own, and leaned her face in close to the child’s. “Nobody’s poppin’ nobody,” she said. “Who said that? Lionel? He an asshole.”

  “Mah’.”

  Kelsey sat back. It was a knife in her chest. She shifted her focus, plumping and fussing with the comforter. “Well, you ignore him. Nobody’s getting popped, you or me. And Matt’s being stupid saying something like that. I’m takin’ you home.”

  Holly’s face crumpled. “Snay wah Nangsie Mommy.”

  Kelsey huffed out a breath. She wanted to say, “Yes. You can stay with me. I’ll take care of you and keep you safe …” But from somewhere deep down, in a place she’d almost forgotten, the image of her own mother swam into her mind’s eye—her long blond hair, the sound of her laughter, the touch of her hand …

  She shuddered and pushed the images away. “No. I told you, you can’t stay with me,” she said as she tucked the child down again. “Now, listen to me, are you listening?” She leaned dow
n close, taking the child’s face in her hands. “I am taking you home. But if something goes wrong, if something happens and you end up leaving this room without me … are you listening?” Holly nodded up, wide-eyed and still. “If you ever leave this room without me, I will find you. You hear? I will find you.”

  “’a fine’ meh.”

  “It’s a promise.”

  “What are you doing?”

  Kelsey turned in fright to find Matt standing in the doorway. “Just tucking her in. She’s gonna be quiet now, aren’t you?”

  Holly nodded and slithered down under the comforter.

  Matt took one step into the room, glared down at the kid. “Get downstairs,” he told Kelsey. “You been up here too long.”

  There was no anger, no threat. It was a demand. Kelsey wondered if he’d heard what she’d been telling Holly. She had to assume he hadn’t. At the door, she turned, jabbed a finger in Holly’s direction, and said, “Remember what I said. If you leave this room, I will find you.” Then she closed the door and followed Matt downstairs.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  DAY TWO: 1:49 AM—ELIZABETH

  Elizabeth stood at the window and stared fourteen stories down to the street below. Car lights swept this way and that and neon signs flashed in silence beyond the glass. Every now and then she could see the blue and red flashes of a police car speeding through the night. She wondered if whoever they were rushing to felt as numb and as empty as she did. Delaney had called in the forensics and backups and scene-of-crime crews and God only knew who else. Right at this moment they were probably crawling all over the house—her house—dragging Richard’s and her lives out into harsh white lights, throwing their darkest secrets and most private possessions into public view. All so they could determine who had killed Sienna Alvarez.