After Dark

by Beverly Barton

  When James Ware arrived at his office the next morning, he found an unexpected visitor waiting for him. Before his secretary, Penny Walsh, had a chance to speak, Johnny Mack Cahill rose from the wing chair by the fireplace and gave James a speculative look.

  “It’s nearly eleven,” Johnny Mack said. “You’re kind of late today, aren’t you?”

  “I stopped by the hospital to see Mary Martha.”

  “Ever the dutiful stepfather.”

  James cleared his throat, glanced over at Penny Walsh, who was hanging on every word of the conversation, and then hazarded a direct look at Johnny Mack. “I happen to be very fond of Mary Martha.” James opened his office door, turned back to his guest and said, “What can I do for you this morning?”

  “Well, it isn’t so much what you can do for me, as what I can do for you.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t catch your drift.”

  “Some information about you has recently come into my possession and I’m willing to—”

  “Come with me,” James said, then motioned to his secretary with a wave of his hand. “Penny, would you mind going over to the bakery and getting some fresh pastries and then fix us a pot of fresh coffee.”

  “Certainly, Mr. Mayor.”

  The minute Penny left, James closed the door to the outer office and confronted Johnny Mack. “I assume you’ve found out about my…my relationship with a certain lady.”

  “Your affair with Arlene Dothan.”

  “Yes, well. Yes.”

  “Let’s get something straight from the get-go,” Johnny Mack said. “I don’t care who you’re fucking. I’m not here to threaten you because you’re cheating on Miss Edith.”

  “Then, what?” James broke out in a cold sweat. Surely Johnny Mack didn’t know about the money. Of course not. How could he know?

  “I have one of the best private investigators in the country poking his nose in everybody’s business here in Noble’s Crossing. As far as I’m concerned, anybody who had a connection to Kent Graham is under suspicion.”

  Stay calm, James cautioned himself. Don’t let Johnny Mack intimidate you. Don’t give yourself away. “I can understand your reasoning. You’re doing everything you can for Lane. If there’s anything I can do to—”

  “There is. You can confess to killing Kent.”

  “What!” Was the man insane? There was no way anyone could connect him to Kent’s murder. And even if there were, he had an alibi. Arlene would swear on a stack of Bibles as high as a mountain that she was with him, giving him a manicure. That had been his story to Buddy Lawler, who probably suspected Arlene had been giving him more than a manicure. But come what may, he planned to stick with that story.

  “Did you kill Kent?” Johnny Mack asked.

  Damn but Cahill scared the shit out of him. He always had. He was big, lean and mean. And with a killer stare that put the fear of God into a person.

  “No, I didn’t kill Kent. Why would I have killed my stepson? Kent and I had been friends all our lives. I was even his best man when he married Lane.”

  James noticed Johnny Mack flinch and surmised that Lane’s marriage to Kent was a sore spot with him. Best to stay clear of anything that might make the situation more intense.

  “Where did you get the money to buy Arlene a new car and expensive jewelry and to take her on several really nice vacations?” Johnny Mack narrowed his gaze, his eyes becoming mere slits, as he focused on James.

  Tugging on his collar and inadvertently loosening his tie in the process, James swallowed several times before he even tried to reply. How the hell had he found out? Oh, yeah, the PI. But did he know about the embezzlement? Of course he did. Cahill was no fool. He would realize that there was only one way James could have afforded to splurge on Arlene and her kids—by stealing from Edith.

  “You know, don’t you?” James sank down into the oxblood leather chair behind his desk.

  “I know you’ve been embezzling money from Miss Edith and that you’re storing it away in a secret bank account.” Johnny Mack grinned as he leaned over James’s desk and looked him square in the eye. “And I know that Kent Graham found out what you were doing and confronted you about it.”

  James trembled from head to toe, but the worst quivers were in his hands. He laid them flat atop his desk in an effort to steady them. Johnny Mack was bluffing, wasn’t he? He was just spouting off suspicions. There wasn’t any way even the best private eye in the world could have unearthed that kind of information.

  “You’re playing a guessing game, Cahill.” James prayed that his voice sounded stronger and more confident than he felt.

  “Kent threatened to expose you, and you killed him to keep him quiet.”

  James jumped up, leaned across his desk and glowered at Johnny Mack. “You can’t prove a word of what you’re saying.”

  “You and I both know what the truth is, don’t we? We know Lane didn’t kill Kent, so that means that someone else did.”

  “I didn’t. I swear I didn’t.”

  “Then, you don’t have anything to worry about, do you?”

  “Are you…are you going to tell Edith about…. If you mention your suspicions to my wife, she’ll destroy me.”

  “I came here today to give you a chance to help us prove Lane is innocent. Any information you have and share with us will be greatly appreciated.”

  “But I don’t know anything that can help Lane.” When he saw the disbelief in Johnny Mack’s eyes, he realized he had to come up with something to temporarily satisfy the man who could ruin his future. “I know Edith has used all her influence to see that Lane was charged with Kent’s murder. She’s hell-bent on seeing Lane convicted. But I swear to you that I didn’t kill Kent and I don’t know who did.”

  Johnny Mack speared James with his deadly glare. “If you’re lying to me…. Well, let’s just say that jail is preferable to what I’ll do to you if I find out that you’re letting Lane take the rap for something you did.”

  “I understand.”

  Without another word, Johnny Mack opened the door, but before he went any farther, James caught up with him and stopped him. “You aren’t going to say anything to Edith about…about what we discussed, are you?”

  Johnny Mack lowered his head and whispered close to James’s ear, “Whatever Miss Edith gets, she deserves. If you didn’t kill Kent and don’t know who did, then you don’t have to worry about me blowing the whistle on you. But if Lane’s case goes to court and things don’t look good for her, Quinn Cortez may call you as a witness. And if he thinks it’ll help Lane, he just might have to point a finger at you.”

  Unable to move, incapable of speaking, James watched Johnny Mack smile pleasantly and tip his Stetson to Penny, who had just returned from the nearby bakery. Then Johnny Mack began humming as he walked outside, leaving the door open behind him. Penny quickly closed the door, then turned around and stared at James.

  “Are you all right, Mr. Ware? You look sort of green.”

  James’s head bobbed up and down several times. No, he wasn’t all right. He was screwed, that’s what he was. Screwed big time. What the hell was he going to do? Something like this couldn’t be kept under wraps for long. Maybe the best thing for him to do was take Arlene and her kids and get out of town as soon as possible. He didn’t have as much money as he had planned for, but they would just have to make do.

  “Mayor, is something wrong?” Penny asked.

  “No, nothing’s wrong,” he replied. “I—I have a phone call to make, Penny. Please see to it that I’m not disturbed.”

  “Of course.”

  James went inside his private office, closed and locked the door, then made his way to his desk and picked up the telephone. After dialing, he sat in his leather chair and waited.

  “Kut & Kurl. This is Arlene Dothan. How can I help you?”

  “Arlene.”

  “Well, hello, there.” Her voice turned syrupy sweet.

  “Listen very carefully. I want you t
o start making plans for us to leave town. As soon as possible.”

  “What’s happened? Why all of a sudden—”

  “Johnny Mack Cahill knows about us, about the things I’ve bought you and about the money I’ve been squirreling away. The man hired a private detective and now he knows everything.”

  “Everything?” Arlene lowered her voice to a mere whisper. “Even about Kent?”

  “Yes, even about Kent. He doesn’t have any proof, but he’s got some mighty big suspicions. And if he tells what he suspects and there’s an investigation, I’ll wind up in the pen for sure.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “Be ready to leave when I say the word,” James told her. “And you just let me take care of everything else.”

  “But what if Johnny Mack goes to Miss Edith or to Buddy Lawler?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll handle Johnny Mack.”

  Chapter 22

  “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” Lane placed her arm around Will’s shoulders.

  “I want to,” he said, despite the fear that ate away inside him. “If I saw someone murder Kent, I need to know, and if I’m the one”—Will looked straight at his mother—“who killed him, then I’ll have to face the truth and…” Will gulped. “God, Mama, I’m scared.”

  “It’s all right, sweetie.”

  When Lane gave him a reassuring hug, it was all he could do not to fall into her arms and cry like a baby. How could he live with himself if he discovered that he actually had bludgeoned Kent to death? Even though, in the end, Kent had been unfair and cruel, there had been a time when he and the man he had thought was his father had loved each other.

  He owed it not only to his mother to remember, but he owed it to himself.

  “What’s she like?” Will asked, as he stood with his mother in the middle of his bedroom. “I mean you’ve already met her and talked to her, so what do you think?”

  “Dr. Agee seems like a very nice person. She told me that she has two sons of her own, so she’s very understanding about my feelings as well as yours.”

  “Johnny Mack said that she’s the best there is. She’s got a Ph.D. and everything.”

  “That’s right. She’s a licensed professional counselor who is certified in clinical hypnosis.”

  “And it’s all right with her that you and Johnny Mack be there in the room with me?”

  “Yes, she has no problem with our being there.”

  “Then, come on.” Will pulled away from Lane and headed toward the door. “Let’s get this show on the road.” He forced a smile, as much to shore up his own courage as to convince his mother that he could handle the situation.

  Lane followed him out into the upstairs hallway, where Johnny Mack waited for them.

  “Ready?” his father asked.

  “Yeah, I’m ready.”

  But he wasn’t ready. Not really. The frightened kid inside him wanted to bolt and run back into his room, lock the door and refuse to ever resurface. But he couldn’t chicken out. Not when so much depended on him remembering what had happened the day Kent was murdered.

  His parents stood side by side, each watching him intently. What were they expecting to happen? Did they think he would fall apart before their very eyes? Or were they just worried, as afraid for him as he was for himself?

  “Hey, you two, stop acting as if it’s the end of the world.” He managed a couple of lame chuckles.

  “If at any time during the session with Dr. Agee you feel like you want to stop, just say so.” Johnny Mack’s big hand hovered above Will’s shoulder. “Don’t push yourself to remember if the memories aren’t there.”

  Will knew his father wanted to touch him, to grip his shoulder and assure him that he was there, that he was going to be there for him from now on. Whatever Johnny Mack had done in the past, whatever sins he had committed, he wasn’t the man Kent had described.

  “He’s right, Will. We”—Lane glanced at Johnny Mack—“don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

  “Listen, you two, I’m okay with this hypnosis thing. It’s what I want…to remember everything about that day. This could be the only way we’ll ever know the truth about what happened.”

  Johnny Mack nodded. Lane grasped Will’s hand. Together, the three of them went downstairs and into the den where a petite brunette of about forty immediately rose from the sofa and came forward with a warm smile on her face. So, this was the famous Dr. Agee, Will thought. She looked more like somebody’s mom dressed up for church in her pretty beige suit. Her brown hair was styled in a neat, short cut, and her blue eyes were bright and friendly.

  She held out her hand. “Hello, Will, I’m Nola Agee.”

  “Hi.” Will shook her hand.

  “Before we begin, is there anything you’d like to ask me, anything you want to discuss?” Dr. Agee asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Will admitted. “Mama and Johnny Mack have pretty much filled me in on everything, except…well…”

  “Whatever your concerns are, don’t be afraid to bring them up.”

  “I guess I’m just wondering if…if you think this will work. Can you really hypnotize me and make me remember?”

  “Why don’t we sit down,” the doctor suggested. “Then I’ll explain what we’re going to do and what we might expect. Okay?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Nola Agee glanced at his parents, who both seemed pretty uptight. “Mr. Cahill, why don’t you and Ms. Graham take the chairs over by the window; that way you can observe what’s happening without being in the way.”

  He almost laughed when he saw how quickly his mother and Johnny Mack obeyed the doctor. Heck, they were scared, too, and wanted this mumbo-jumbo hypnosis to work as much as he did.

  “Will, why don’t you sit on the sofa?” Dr. Agee inclined her head in that direction. “You don’t have to lie down unless you’d like to.”

  “I think I’ll just sit.”

  Once everyone else was seated, the doctor placed herself in a straight-back chair directly in front of Will. “Hypnosis is a method of communication that induces a trance or trancelike state. Our goal is to narrow your focus to such an extent that your mind will be relatively free of any distractions. However, you should be able to hear my voice and possibly even the ringing of the telephone. I’ll have you focus on an object, and then I’ll ask you to relax as I guide you into the trance.”

  “All right.” Sounded simple enough to him, but what if—“What happens if I don’t go into a trance?”

  Dr. Agee smiled. “Don’t worry about it. Some patients can’t be hypnotized, while others go into a deep trance. But for the most part, patients tend to simply go into a meditative state.”

  “Okay. I’m ready.” As ready as he would ever be. His belly cramped, but he dismissed the pain, knowing it was just a symptom of his nervousness. “Go ahead and…well, do your thing.”

  “Try to relax,” she said. “Try to free your mind of fear and worry and thoughts of any kind.”

  “Big order there, doc,” Will joked.

  She laughed. “I know this isn’t easy for you, Will, but try.”

  He tried. God, how he tried. Relax, you numb-skull. Relax. How hard can it be?

  Dr. Agee rose from her chair, strolled across the wide plank floor and flipped the wall switches, shutting off the overhead light and turning on the large ceiling fan at low speed. Although a modicum of daylight peeked through the slats in the oak plantation blinds covering the windows, for the most part soft shadows enveloped the room.

  “Listen to the gentle hum of the ceiling fan,” the doctor told him. “Look up and concentrate on the rotation. Around and around.”

  Her voice was soft, calm and soothing. He lifted his gaze to stare at the revolving oak blades and listened to the barely discernible drone of the fan’s motor.

  “Keep looking at the fan,” she told him. “Relax. Free your mind. You’re warm. You’re comfortable. You’re safe. And
you’re getting just a little drowsy.”

  “Uh-huh.” She was right. He felt everything she had mentioned. Warm. Comfortable. Safe. And drowsy.

  He continued staring at the fan as it whirled around and around. His eyelids grew heavy. He felt as if he were floating on a soft, gray cloud. He closed his eyes.

  “Breathe deeply. Feel yourself relaxing. Feel yourself drifting off to sleep.”

  Lane grabbed Johnny Mack’s hand, and the two exchanged a concerned glance. Originally she had been opposed to doing anything that might help Will remember what had happened the day Kent was murdered. She had been so afraid that Will would recall having struck the fatal blows that ended Kent’s life. But now that she understood how tormented Will had been not knowing the truth, she prayed that this trained professional Johnny Mack had flown in from Chicago would be able to help her son regain his memory.

  “Will?” Dr. Agee asked.

  “Yes?”

  “Are you comfortable?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’d like for you to think back a few weeks to the day that you and Lillie Mae were in the backyard. Do you remember that afternoon?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me what’s happening. What are you and Lillie Mae doing?”

  Lane tightened her grip on Johnny Mack’s hand. He scooted to the edge of his chair, close enough so that he could reach over and drape his arm around her shoulders. If ever she had needed him, she needed him now. Whatever happens, he’ll be here to help Will. Together, we’ll take care of our son.

  “I was practicing,” Will said. “Lillie Mae was pitching the ball to me so I could practice my hitting.”

  “That’s right, you had your baseball bat with you in the yard, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “Were you and Lillie Mae alone?”

  Will nodded. “Mama had gone down to the Herald. Grandmother had fired a couple of reporters, and Mama wanted to talk to the managing editor and see what had happened, find out why those people had been let go.”