Remember the Night
Page 22
“After everything that’s happened, I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about that.”
“Do you want me to tell you how I feel?” His voice was cold and flat.
Uneasiness crept over her. For the first time, she realized they weren’t heading in the direction of her apartment. “Where are we going?”
“I left my briefcase at the office.” His gaze met hers once more. “You don’t mind if we make a quick stop, do you?”
“Gone? What do you mean, gone? How the hell did she make bail?” Philip glared at the female officer, worry working its way into the pit of his stomach.
Sighing, she looked down at the notebook on the counter. “Someone bailed her out about twenty minutes ago.”
“Who?”
“Bail bondsman down on Poydras.”
“Give me the number.”
“Look it up in the phone book, hotshot,” she snapped.
Reaching across the counter, he snatched the notebook from her and ripped out the page in question. “I’m in a hurry.”
“You can’t do that!”
“I just did.” Philip didn’t stop until he reached his desk. He felt the stares of his fellow cops, but no one dared stop him. He had to find Michelle. The need to see her, to touch her, pounded through him like a drum.
He’d just picked up the phone to dial the bondsman’s number when he heard Cory’s voice.
“What are you doing here, Betancourt?”
“Looking for Michelle.”
“I thought she was in custody.”
“She’s not. I was just down there.”
Cory sat down across from him and leaned forward, a sober look on his face. “You sure this is the best place for you to be calling her?”
“She’s in trouble, Cory.”
His partner’s eyes narrowed. “You’re in deep with her, aren’t you, Betancourt?”
Philip snarled into the phone when he was put on hold, then raked a trembling hand over a day’s worth of stubble. “God, Cory, I love her.”
Cory’s jaw dropped. “I’ll be damned. Coming from you, my man, that’s about a ten on the Richter scale.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Well, here’s a news flash. While you were cozied up with Montgomery and Burns, we got a break in the case.”
Hope spiraled through Philip. “Talk to me.”
Looking pleased with himself, Cory grinned. “You remember the cuff link you found at the scene?”
He nodded, remembering Michelle had gripped it so tightly, the post had pierced her palm. God, what she must have been going through that night.
“I went to see Derek Landsteiner last night. Just to bug him, see if I could get some reaction out of him. The dude’s one cool cookie. When I was using his john, I looked down and this cuff link was just staring right up at me.”
A twinge went through Philip’s chest. “Did the lab match it with the one at the scene?”
“Not yet, but how many diamond cuff links like that do you think exist in this city?”
“Probably just those two.”
“That puts him at the scene. I figure he stepped on it, and the post went into his shoe. Then he carried it back to his penthouse.”
“There wasn’t any sign of a struggle at the scene,” Philip said. “How do you suppose both cuff links came off?”
“Maybe the old man was trying to leave some kind of clue.”
“If that’s the case, looks like it worked.”
The bail bondsman came on the line, and Philip’s attention snapped to the phone. “This is Detective Betancourt with the NOPD. I need to know who bailed Michelle Pelletier from the Broad Street city jail.”
“Usually we don’t give out this kind of information, but since you’re a cop…” Papers rustled on the other end of the line. “Bill Smith signed the form. He said he was an attorney and paid cash—”
The seed of worry augmented, shifted into something dark and terrible. “Describe him.”
“Uh…well, he was blond. About six feet tall. Expensive suit. Green eyes and little round glasses.”
With an oath, Philip slammed down the phone. Panic gripped him with such force he couldn’t draw a breath. “Derek Landsteiner bailed Michelle.”
Cory reached for his coat. “I’m on it.”
“Go to Landsteiner’s penthouse. Put out an APB—”
“We don’t have a positive match—”
“Do it!” Philip struggled for control when he realized Cory was staring at him.
“Betancourt, you’re a civilian—”
“Just do it. I owe her, Cory.” His chest felt as if it were caving in, and he choked down panic. “I’m going to her apartment. I’ve got my cell. Keep me posted.”
Derek opened the office door and motioned for Michelle to precede him. She hadn’t wanted to come inside. In fact, she’d tried to convince Derek to let her wait in the car while he retrieved his briefcase, but he’d insisted she accompany him, saying it wasn’t safe for a woman alone in the parking garage after hours.
The reception area was dark and deserted. Michelle started when Derek closed the door behind them.
“You’re jumpy tonight, Michelle.”
“I…I guess I’m still tense about everything that happened today.” It was a lie. She didn’t know what made her so uneasy—something subtle she couldn’t put her finger on. But Derek was definitely the source. “I’ll just turn on the lights—”
“No.”
Her stomach went into a slow roll. “Why not? It’s dark in here.”
“We don’t need the lights.”
She couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen into her lungs, and realized belatedly she was afraid. She told herself she had nothing to fear from Derek. He didn’t hate her the way Danielle and Baldwin did. He’d always been the quiet, calm one of the three Landsteiner siblings. But something was different about him tonight. Something dark and menacing she’d never seen before.
For a moment the only sound came from her shallow breathing. “Are you angry with me, Derek? Is that why you’re trying to frighten me?”
A ribbon of light bled in through the window of Baldwin’s office across the hall, just enough for her to make out Derek’s features. What she saw made her blood run cold. She’d never seen such detached, blank eyes. It was as if every emotion had been sucked out of him. Every emotion except hatred. In that instant, Michelle knew Derek wanted to hurt her.
“I didn’t want it to come to this,” he said.
Adrenaline burst into her muscles. Quickly, she gauged the distance to the door, realized she’d have to pass close to him to reach it. “Take me home, Derek. Please. We can forget this ever happened.”
“I’m sorry, sis, but I can’t do that.”
Michelle bolted to the door. Her fingers closed over the knob, twisted. In her peripheral vision she saw Derek reach for her. His fingers bit into her shoulders, spun her around. Michelle screamed, lashed out with her fists. He slammed her against the wall so hard the impact took her breath. Pain streaked up her spine. Stars exploded before her eyes. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Her knees buckled, but he caught her beneath her arms and kept her from falling.
“Come on, Michelle. You’re tougher than that. You can keep your feet under you, can’t you?”
She’d never thought of Derek as being physically strong—he was a slightly built man—but the ease with which he’d overpowered her stunned and amazed her. She knew if he chose to hurt her—or worse—he could manage with nothing more than his bare hands.
Wrenching free of his grasp, she staggered to the hall. Her old office was off to the left. If she could reach the phone…
“Don’t even think about it, Michelle.”
Her head felt fuzzy, her thoughts disoriented. She couldn’t remember if there was a lock on her office door. “Why are you doing this?”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t figured it out yet.”
Understanding struck her like a club. Slowl
y, she turned to face him. “Oh, God. Oh, no. Derek, no.”
He smiled. “I always knew you were smart.”
“You killed Armon, didn’t you?”
“He didn’t leave me a choice.”
Pain congealed deep in her belly. “Your own father? Why in God’s name did you do it?”
“The crazy old fool changed his will. He didn’t like the direction Baldwin wanted to take the firm. I wasn’t strong enough. Danielle didn’t care enough. So he willed a controlling portion of the firm to you.”
Bile rose in her throat with the knowledge that the only father she’d ever known had been killed because of greed. The truth sickened her. “You destroyed the new will. Then you murdered Armon. You murdered Dennis Jacoby to cover it up.”
“I had to make sure no one got that will.”
Outrage burned through her. “There was a disk in Ja coby’s fireproof safe. Betancourt has someone looking at it.”
Derek made a sound of annoyance. “Do you have any idea how many cops I’ve got in my pocket, Michelle? The big PR campaign the NOPD has been putting on is all a line of bull. They’re corrupt. Just like the rest of us.”
She cringed when he came up beside her and laid his hand on her shoulder. “Not Betancourt.”
“Ah, loyal to the very end. I’m sure he’ll appreciate that when reading your obituary.”
The thought cut her, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. “You’ve already murdered two people, Derek. Am I going to be your third? Your own sister?”
“Half sister. And I really don’t have a choice, do I, sis? I mean, put yourself in my shoes. Hell of a thing, my old man getting a conscience after twenty years. I was pretty annoyed when I found out about you.”
“How long have you known?”
“He told me the night I killed him. I needed to protect my interests.”
Michelle wanted to hurt him, wanted to take him apart with her bare hands until he lay on the floor helpless and bleeding.
“It was you that night in the cemetery, wasn’t it?”
“I didn’t want you getting any closer to that cop. If I’d succeeded, this would have been all over by now. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had nine lives, Michelle.”
“You won’t get away with this.”
“You were the perfect candidate to frame. Poor girl from the wrong side of the tracks. Rich older widower with money to blow. It almost worked. Everyone thought you were sleeping with him. Everyone thought you killed him for that neat little life insurance policy. The amnesia thing threw me for a while, but in the long run it worked to my advantage. The cops thought you were lying. Well, everyone except Betancourt. But he wasn’t hard to do away with. The fact that he fell for you was the icing on the cake.”
Her chest constricted. If she died tonight, Betancourt would never know the truth. She wondered if he’d keep digging. If he’d try to solve her murder…
“People are going to get suspicious if there’s another murder. Betancourt already suspects Armon’s murder had something to do with the will. You’re already a suspect.”
A cruel smile twisted the corners of Derek’s mouth. “The irony of the whole thing is that you’re going to solve the case, Michelle. Guilt over murdering Armon combined with the knowledge that you’ll be spending the rest of your life in prison sent you over the edge. You’re going to commit suicide tonight. I thought it would be a nice twist to bring you here to do it. After all, we’ve got the privacy of the penthouse. I thought eight stories would do nicely.”
He withdrew a folded note from his pocket.
Nerves jumping, Michelle stepped back.
“I’m not going to hurt you. Yet. This is just your suicide note and confession.” Grabbing her hand, he pressed her fingertips against it. “Now we have fingerprints.”
She repressed a shiver as he tucked the note into the breast pocket of her jacket. “No one’s going to believe I committed suicide.”
“You have nothing to live for. Why wouldn’t you? Your career is gone. Your education. Your freedom. Even your cop spurned you.”
She winced, and swallowed the pain that welled up in her throat. “You don’t know anything.”
“Tough to the end, too. I really like that.”
“You won’t get away with this.”
“I’m tired of talking, Michelle.” Reaching into the waistband of his slacks, he withdrew a shiny chrome pistol. “Let’s go up to the roof.”
Philip stood on the porch of the old Victorian and felt his world shatter around him. He’d been praying she’d be home. That she wasn’t told him his worst fears were correct. The need to feel her safe in his arms was like a living thing inside him, hammering away at his very sanity.
I love you.
Her words haunted him, taunted everything inside him until he thought he would explode with desperation. He had to find her. If anything happened to her, if Landsteiner harmed her in any way, Philip would never be able to live with himself. Why had it taken something like this for him to realize he loved her?
Back in the car, he pulled onto the street and sped toward the central business district, disregarding traffic signals and the speed limit. He punched the number of Cory’s cell phone.
Cory picked up on the first ring.
“Is Landsteiner at his apartment?” Philip asked.
“No sign of him. His car’s not there.”
Desperation cut him a little more deeply. Where the hell could he have taken her? “I’m going to the Whitney Building to see if he took her there.”
“I’ll contact Baldwin and Danielle, then meet you there.”
Philip disconnected and pressed the accelerator to the floor.
Michelle couldn’t believe her life was going to end like this—in a final act of violence that would wipe out everything she’d ever loved or wanted or believed in. Wipe out the dreams she’d clutched desperately for so many years, the love she held in her heart for Betancourt.
Everything that made her human cried out with the injustice of it.
Wind and rain lashed her when she opened the door to the roof. She paused, stunned by the cold, frozen by the terror slithering through her.
The muzzle of the gun pressed into her spine. “Keep moving.”
Her legs were shaking so badly she could barely make herself walk onto the open roof. “It doesn’t have to end this way, Derek. I’ll sign the firm over to you.” Her voice trembled with each word.
“You know, Michelle, I’ve always admired the fact that you’re smart. That’s the one reason I wasn’t ashamed to have you as a sister. Unfortunately, this problem has moved beyond mere control of the firm.”
“No one has to know.”
“The police need to close the case. To do that, they need to catch the murderer. I’ll be lucky as it is to pull this off.”
From where she stood, she could see the yellow lights of the building across Royal Street to the north.
Derek motioned with the gun. “Walk over to the edge.”
Rain soaked through her jacket, but Michelle was oblivious to the cold. She couldn’t even hear the rain over the jackhammer rhythm of her heart. She tried to imagine what it would be like to fall eight stories, and shuddered. She didn’t want to die.
Oh, Philip, where are you?
On numb legs she started for the ledge.
“That’s far enough.”
She stopped four feet from the edge. Adrenaline stabbed through her, burning like acid in her gut when she risked a glance down at the street.
“Turn around and face me, Michelle. I want to see your face when you realize you’re going to die.”
Slowly, she turned to face him. “I’m not going to let you get away with this.”
Amusement flashed across his features. “Really?”
In that instant, Michelle made a decision. An eerie calm washed over her. “If you want to kill me, Derek, you’re going to have to pull the trigger. I won’t jump. I’m not g
oing to make this easy for you.”
“Don’t be stupid, Michelle. I’ll do it.”
“The police will know it’s murder. And your plan will fail. You’ll spend the rest of your miserable life behind bars.”
“I own the police department.”
“You don’t own Philip Betancourt.”
Rage contorted his face. Without warning, he charged. Terror jolted through her. Oh, God, he was going to push her. He drew back to strike her, but Michelle sidestepped. Air whooshed as his fist grazed her shoulder. Light glinted off the gun in his other hand. She kicked, aiming high, and felt her foot connect solidly with his hand. The gun arced away from him.
“Police! Halt or I’ll fire!”
Betancourt’s voice cut through the wind and rain like a blast. Hope exploded in Michelle’s chest. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Derek’s gun near the ledge. He dived for it. Behind her, Betancourt cursed. She heard movement, then rough hands shoved her aside. She stumbled, went down on her hands and knees. Betancourt sprinted toward Derek.
The gunshot deafened her.
Betancourt’s body jerked.
Not Philip! Not like this. A scream tore from her throat. Then she was running to him, oblivious of the danger, and the fact that Derek had control of the gun.
The two men rolled toward the roof’s edge. The rain and darkness blinded her. She could barely distinguish one man from the other. Quickly, she scanned the area for a weapon she could use to incapacitate Derek.
Derek lurched to his feet.
Philip lay supine at his feet.
Derek’s gaze sought hers.
Even in the darkness she saw the insanity in the hollow depths of his eyes. “Run, Derek. There’s still time for you to escape,” she said in a strangled voice.
He leveled the gun at her chest. “I’m not going to die alone. I’m taking you with me, Michelle.”
Philip’s legs lashed out, slamming into Derek, driving him backward. He stumbled, lost his balance when his foot found only air. His mouth opened in a silent scream. His eyes widened. Arms flailing wildly, he went over the ledge.
Sickened, Michelle turned away.
In an instant Betancourt was beside her, solid and strong, pulling her into his arms. “It’s over, sweetheart. It’s over.”