She twisted the picture again. The last letter was a B. WEB. Weekend Boy.
She had written down Larry’s nickname.
She looked up, instinct creating a warning chill within her. Larry didn’t just look pale. He looked sick. She noticed the tie in his hand. The way he was knotting it.
The milk fell to the floor.
Larry stared at her, shaking his head. “I didn’t want to do this, Kels. Really I didn’t.”
“Larry…no.”
Why the hell hadn’t Sheila just told her she was afraid of Larry? Because she worked with him, because she’d taken his side, and if she’d just had a chance to spend time alone with Sheila, her friend would have told her all the little reasons why.
“You know, Kels. I know that you know. I went through the house. I read the diary. There wasn’t anything in it that pointed to me. I even went through those papers. I thought that…I thought that was one of Sheila’s kid drawings. I never would have realized she was spelling my nickname. Not if you hadn’t pointed it out. You never let go, Kelsey. You’re like a determined little terrier. I should have realized that. Even without that drawing, you probably would have figured it out eventually. Found out how often I had been down here and seen Sheila. It’s a good thing I came by.”
“If I figured it out, Dane will, too.”
He shook his head. “No. They’ll think Dane did it. Naturally I’ll get rid of that paper. And everything else points to Dane. Sheila slept with him the night I caught up with her, you know. I knew she would. And I knew when Dane would leave the house, so I knew when to bring her here and take the picture. And since he’s already told them about the photograph, all I have to do is make sure they find it.”
“Larry…why?” she whispered.
“Jesus, Kels, how can you ask that? I loved her, and she treated me like shit. She humiliated me. I was the only guy she wouldn’t sleep with. And then there was Dane. He-Man, while I was Web. All my damned life. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to kill her, so I did. And I planned it so it would look like the Necktie Strangler. Oh, Latham really was the Necktie Strangler. I thought he might be. He was such a sicko. But that didn’t matter. I knew if I killed Sheila on Dane’s property and took the picture, he’d have to go after the killer, and I knew I could count on him to find him. And he did. But…well, I didn’t think Latham would talk to you while he was trying to do the deed. And I sure as hell didn’t know about the trust fund—Sheila never told me anything. You can’t imagine how I hated her.”
“You’re not going to kill me, Larry.”
“I’m sorry, Kels. Honestly. As much as he’s been a thorn in my side my whole life, I didn’t really even mean to make Dane pay. But the way it’s worked out…well, he’s going to have to take the fall. For Sheila, and for you.”
She shook her head. “No, Larry, come on, think about it. If you plead temporary insanity and tell the jury about your marriage, I’m sure they’ll understand. If you kill me as well…Larry, don’t be an idiot. Someone will figure it out. Dane will be back.” She was trying to speak rationally. Trying to find an escape route as she spoke. She glanced at where he stood, and at the back door. “You’re not wearing gloves,” she pointed out. She was shaking inside, a continual “No!” wailing through her head.
Dane would be back.
But maybe he and Jesse had a lot to talk about.
It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to let Larry kill her.
“No, I don’t have gloves. I really don’t want to do this, Kelsey. But this time I’ll take the weapon with me,” he said softly.
“Your tire tracks will be out there.”
“So? I came to say goodbye. And then I found you. I’ll call 911 right away.”
Kelsey was still incredulous. She had worked with Larry for years. She had sympathized with him at his divorce.
She had slept alone with him in the other room in Sheila’s house.
He took a step toward her.
Kelsey was terrified, but she’d fought for her life once already. She wasn’t going to give it up now.
“Kels…” he said very softly, “I’ll try not to hurt you.”
She backed up against the counter. He followed.
She reached behind her, grabbed the coffeepot and brought it crashing against his head. He screamed as the glass and scalding liquid seared his flesh.
Kelsey shoved him hard. Then she began to run.
Dane burst into the house just in time for Kelsey to race into his arms.
Larry was flying after her.
Dane caught Kelsey and moved her aside, ready to meet her attacker.
To his amazement, Larry stopped and stared at him from a distance. Coffee stained his clothes, and there was a gash on the side of his head.
“So, you killed Sheila,” Dane said softly.
“No…you killed her. That’s the way it will look.”
Dane pulled out his cell phone, staring at Larry.
Larry pulled a small gun from his pocket. “Don’t! You’re not the only one who knows how to use a firearm, Dane. Like this little piece? So small. It’s usually a woman’s gun. Fits into even a small handbag. But at close range…Dane, you’re not dealing with Latham here. I’m not a madman. I just did what I had to do. Drop that cell phone. I’ll hit you dead on in the chest if I fire now. And I will do it,” he warned. Dane hesitated, slowly lowering the cell phone.
“They’ll definitely catch you if you shoot us,” he said.
“Let’s go outside,” Larry said.
Dane’s eyes met Kelsey’s. She stared at him and knew that he was silently telling her to listen…to buy time.
“All right,” Dane said. “We’ll go outside since you like to murder people on my beach.”
“I’ll shoot you right here, if need be. I know what you’re doing, of course. Every second gives you a ray of hope, right, Dane?”
“Every second. But I know that you want every second, too. You’re trying to figure out a way to kill us without getting caught. But you’ve blown it this time. Your prints are all over the gun. The cops aren’t idiots.”
“I can wipe off prints.”
“They’ll trace it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I bought this gun from Izzy Garcia. It can’t be traced back to anyone. Let’s go outside.”
“Come on, Kelsey, let’s walk outside,” Dane said.
He prodded Kelsey before him. He followed her, and Larry followed him. Nervously.
“You know, Larry,” Dane said, “you always were jealous of my beach. My property. My home. And, of course, my friendship with Sheila.”
“Fuck you,” Larry said angrily.
And in that moment he followed too closely.
Dane balked at the steps, slamming his body backward. Larry staggered. Dane turned, grasping him. He pinched his fingers into Larry’s wrist, knowing the pain would cause Larry to lose his hold on the gun.
But it went off anyway, and Dane knew he’d been hit. In the leg. He could only pray that it had missed the artery.
Still, he forced his weight down on top of Larry’s. He heard something crack. A bone. Larry’s, thank God, not his.
But Larry was still struggling, reaching for the gun.
He didn’t make it.
Kelsey dived in like a hawk. Suddenly the gun was in her hands, pointing down at Larry.
“One move and I shoot you dead! No, first I’ll go for your kneecaps. For Sheila. But trust me, I will shoot,” she said, and she meant it.
Dane knew he was losing blood. A lot of it.
“911, Kels, 911,” he managed to say.
He was trying to remain conscious. He thought he must be insane. He could hear a siren. And then someone running.
Jesse. Jesse had followed him back to Hurricane Bay.
“I’ve got Larry covered, Kelsey,” Jesse said. “Hurry up—call an ambulance. Fast.”
Things hazed in and out. An ambulance came…and then a helicopter. Dane was being taken
to the trauma center at Jackson Memorial in Miami.
He knew he was going in for surgery, knew he was being given blood.
And he knew when Kelsey was beside him, whispering to him.
“Don’t you die on me, Dane. I love you. I need you. Oh God, Dane, we’ve both failed in many ways. But you never failed me. Don’t you see? You never failed me.”
He managed to open his eyes, though the sedation was stealing away what remained of his consciousness.
“I never will, Kelsey,” he promised. Big words.
His eyes closed, and he was wheeled into surgery.
EPILOGUE
The wedding was at Hurricane Bay in November, when summer’s edge had cooled but the days were still gloriously warm and the night blissfully touched with the soft breezes of fall.
The groom still limped.
The bride was beautiful, and, despite the limp, the groom was incredibly handsome.
Nate was best man; Cindy was maid of honor.
Kelsey’s father gave her away with the greatest pleasure.
After the ceremony, the bride spent her time moving between her guests and her mother—and her new baby brother. Joshua Michael Cunningham was just a month old, but big and beautiful, and the bride’s mother was so flushed and happy, she might have been the bride herself.
The partying afterward went on and on. It was midnight when the guests at last dispersed. Most of them. Kelsey’s parents were staying. They had at last gone up to the master bedroom, where both Kelsey and Dane had insisted they stay with their newborn.
Kelsey and Dane planned to stay in his old room, down on the first floor.
Dane slipped his arms around Kelsey as she disposed of the finery she was wearing.
“This may be weird,” he said.
“What?”
“Having your folks in the house. And we don’t leave for the north and our honeymoon until tomorrow.”
She turned to him. “But it’s our wedding night.”
He sighed. “I’m not as good when I have to be really quiet.”
She laughed. “It seems like tonight, of all nights, you should get a chance to be really, really good.”
“All right,” he said. “I’ve got it.”
“Oh?”
“There’s a really beautiful boat docked out there.”
Kelsey smiled. “I knew you wouldn’t fail me,” she said softly.
“As long as we live,” he said softly. “I’ll do my best to never fail you—in any way.”
She stood on her toes and kissed him.
And whispered her reply.
Hand in hand they walked toward the boat. Then ran.
It was a calm night at Hurricane Bay. Even so, the old boat rocked beneath the moonlight.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-2865-2
HURRICANE BAY
Copyright © 2002 by Heather Graham Pozzessere.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
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