“Go. I need to get back to the yacht club before I’m missed—”
“You won’t be going anywhere, Mitchell.” Logan filled the doorway behind the man. “Put the gun down on the desk and step away from it.”
Elise saw desperation cross Kyle’s face as he started to lower the gun as commanded. He couldn’t possibly know that Logan was unarmed. Suddenly he whirled so fast that Logan didn’t have time to react. Kyle clipped him in the head with the weapon and then aimed.
But Logan flew to one side even as a shot rang out harmlessly into the hallway. Then he lunged forward, a shoulder lowered to strike Kyle in the chest. The man fell backward and the gun flew out of his hand. Logan came after him, but Kyle kicked out.
“Logan!” Elise cried.
Kyle’s foot barely missed Logan’s crotch. Barely. Grunting at the impact to his thigh, Logan came back fast, fist connecting with Kyle’s face.
“That’s something I’ve wanted to do for months,” he said, shoving the other fist in Kyle’s gut. “That’s for Ginny.” He clipped him in the jaw. “That one, too.” Then hit him again and again, until, arms flailing, Kyle toppled. “That was just for good measure.”
Then he grabbed the fallen gun, knelt on the other man’s chest and pointed the barrel at his temple.
“Logan, no, you can’t!” Elise said. “You’re not a murderer, you’re one of the good guys.”
For a moment, she thought he wouldn’t listen. Then, tension visibly draining from his body, he rose and backed off.
“You’re right. We’ll let the justice system take care of him.” He waved the gun. “Get up, you slime.”
Kyle struggled to his feet. “Who the hell are you?”
“Ginny Fraser’s older brother. A cop. Or I will be again soon, now that I have you.”
His expression wild, Kyle lunged at Logan. They tumbled through the doorway and across the hall.
Elise ran after them in time to see them careening around the living room, locked together in a bizarre dance. Kyle slammed Logan into the coffee table. Caught in the back of the knees, he went down hard, Kyle landing on top of him. The table collapsed under their combined weight, and the shriek of splitting wood echoed through the high-ceilinged room.
And Elise saw that Kyle’s hands were around Logan’s neck. Logan tried to rip them away, but Kyle seemed to have the strength of a madman.
“Stop it! You’ll kill him!” she screamed.
“What’s going on here?” came an outraged voice.
In the foyer, a shocked, steel-spined Minna gaped, but Elise ignored the woman as her mind raced for a way to stop Kyle. Spotting the heavy coffee-table book she’d been looking at the other day, she grabbed it from the floor and lifted it high, then brought it crashing down on the back of Kyle’s head and neck. The shock made him release Logan and half turn toward her.
“Stop this nonsense right now!” Minna ordered.
Logan rolled and threw Kyle facedown, jerking his arm expertly behind his back as he landed on him. From under his tux jacket, he pulled handcuffs and secured Kyle’s hands behind his back.
Elise nearly collapsed with relief as Logan looked up at her and said, “Thanks.”
Before she could respond, Minna was there, demanding, “How dare you! Take your hands off my son. You are manhandling the next governor of Illinois.”
“Your son’s going downstate—only, not as governor,” Logan told her. He stood, and having collared Kyle in the process, pulled him to his feet. “I’m making a citizen’s arrest.”
“You can’t do that.”
“Just watch me.” He headed for the door, shoving Kyle in front of him. “C’mon,” he said to Elise.
“Don’t worry, I shall watch you make a fool of yourself, sir. The police chief is a good friend of this family,” Minna said, racing him through the door. “I’ll have you arrested.”
Kyle in tow, Logan stopped at the door and looked back at Elise, who hadn’t moved an inch. “Coming?”
Torn, she shook her head. “I can’t.” While she wanted to see this through, she wouldn’t go back to prison for something she didn’t do. “He didn’t admit to everything, Logan.” Three years of her life lost was plenty.
“It’ll be all right.”
“You can’t be sure of that.”
“You’ll have me on your side this time.”
And she was so very grateful for that. But who knew how things would play out, without absolute proof that Kyle was the murderer?
“I wish that was enough.”
His expression darkened, and he said, “You mean I’m not enough.”
She swallowed hard. “No. I mean I can’t chance going back.” A shudder ripped through her at the thought of being locked up again, maybe in solitary this time. “I just can’t.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Kyle asked, looking at Elise as he tried to wrench himself free. “What’s going on here?”
Logan jerked him around and slammed him into the wall, saying, “It’s personal.”
Logan didn’t ask her again, didn’t tell her what he was thinking. But she read his face before he turned away and shoved Kyle out through the doorway.
Disappointment.
Heartbreak?
For a moment, she thought to go after him, to tell him she loved him, that if this was ever over…
But she waited too long and by the time she got to the door, he was handcuffing Kyle to the inside of the car. He didn’t even look her way. She backed off and turned toward the living room, stared numbly at the destruction around her. This was it, then. Logan had let her go. Her eyes stung but she held back her tears for now. Mom and Eric were waiting for her—she couldn’t let them down. But she was still empty-handed. She needed money desperately.
Thankfully, Minna had gone to the police station. Elise hurried back to the office. The safe might be empty, but maybe she would find petty cash in the desk. Anything, even a few hundred, would help toward that new start.
If only Logan succeeded in getting Kyle convicted, she could come back to him. If he still wanted her…
She went through the drawers, one at a time. Nothing. Frustrated, she hit the center drawer hard and then it wouldn’t close. Something was jamming it. She reached in and felt a sheet of paper stuck in the track. Pulling it free, she dropped what was a receipt in the center of the drawer, but before she could close it, a date jumped out at her—the date Brian was murdered. Her heart began to thud.
Blinking, she picked up the paper and scanned what turned out to be a car rental receipt.
The car in the ravine…this was proof!
She flew to her feet. She had to go after Logan and give him this. Maybe with this he could get Kyle on murder charges and she wouldn’t have to start over.
About to leave the room, she stopped when she realized Minna was standing there watching her. Her mother-in-law hadn’t gone to the police station, after all. The woman was silent, and distaste was written over her features.
Elise pocketed the receipt and tried to make her way past Minna without saying anything, but Minna pushed her back against the desk and then raised her other hand. It held a gun. To Elise’s eyes it looked like the same gun Kyle had lost in his struggle in the living room. They’d forgotten all about it. But apparently Minna hadn’t.
“You’re not going anywhere—” the Mitchell matriarch gave her a look of triumph “—Elise.”
Chapter Sixteen
How could she be so unbelievably calm? Elise wondered as she stared at Minna. Perhaps the situation was too unreal. Perhaps the struggle with Kyle had just worn out all her emotions. She felt…blank inside.
“How did you know?”
“You were too obvious, my dear. Not this,” Minna said, waving her hand down Elise’s person as she moved closer. “Not the outer trappings. Very, very clever. I didn’t have a clue at first. But every time you looked at Eric, you gave it away…and he was unnaturally fond of you from the first.”
&
nbsp; “I am his mother.”
“Not anymore. And never again.” She grabbed Elise’s arm and shoved her toward the doorway. “I’m afraid this time when you die, you’ll stay dead.”
Thinking fast, Elise stumbled, the awkward action bringing her into the living room where another transmitter could pick up what they were saying. She wasn’t about to die without bringing Minna Mitchell down.
“You would actually kill me to get me out of my son’s life? Out of your life? You would commit murder?”
Minna shrugged. “Each time it gets easier.”
Each time? It hit Elise, then. Her eyes widened. Kyle hadn’t confessed to killing anyone because he hadn’t done so. She was staring at her husband’s murderer. The woman had killed her own son.
“Brian? I thought you loved Brian above all else.”
“I did. I pinned all my hopes on him. The Mitchell name could have made political history.” Fervor gave Minna’s eyes an odd sheen. “Kyle never had that charisma, never had that backing. That’s why he took advantage of Harbor from the Storm and a relationship with that distasteful Otera. It was a way to fill his war chest, make him seem more sought-after than he really was. If only Brian hadn’t found out about it.”
“Brian knew about his brother’s double-dealing,” Elise murmured. “No wonder he was so upset that last week or so. Drinking. Arguing.”
“He was working up his courage to turn his own brother in.”
“And you killed him to stop him?”
“It wasn’t like that,” Minna insisted. “I just wanted to talk some sense into my son. I flew back from Palm Beach to do so. But then we got into the argument. I remember picking up the letter opener with your initials, thinking how much I hated you. If it wasn’t for you, he would have remained loyal to the family.”
Elise gaped at Minna. The woman really was delusional. “Brian was loyal to himself! He was as straight-arrow as they came. He really was the Golden Boy, but you chose to protect your other son over him.”
“I chose the Mitchell name! I had such plans…and all for nothing. I was so furious with Brian…he was saying such terrible things…and the next thing I knew, he was lying there on the bed, with the letter opener jutting from his chest. I—I don’t remember how it happened. I never meant to do it.” Minna was shaking now. And pacing. “And then, when I finally put his tragic death out of my mind, that reporter showed up. Ginny Fraser somehow got wind of Kyle’s campaign money source and started nosing around. She would have dug it all up. Everything.”
“So you ran Ginny Fraser off the road to kill the story.”
“I had to. I couldn’t let her destroy everything I had built. I’m not sorry I got rid of her…but I never meant to kill Brian.”
“You killed Brian?” Carol was standing on the landing over them. “Dear God, I suspected Kyle…but not you.”
Elise started. Carol had gotten home before her. Her sister-in-law weaved down the stairs and into the middle of the living room. Her lipstick was smeared a bit, her tight white dress twisted around her hips and thighs.
“Never you, Mother, Brian was your life.”
“Carol, you’re drunk, as usual. You don’t know what you heard. Go back up to your room and pass out like a good girl.”
“Don’t patronize me, Mother! I may be a lush, but you helped make me what I am.” Carol boldly stepped between Minna and Elise. “And while I may whore for you, I won’t be a party to murder.”
“Carol—!”
“I can’t let you hurt anyone else.”
Carol lunged for the weapon, but Minna didn’t let go. Elise could only watch in horror as they struggled for dominance over the gun until, at last, it went off.
Carol’s eyes went round and her hands went to her stomach, where red gushed from the entry site.
“Carol!” Elise yelled, moving as her sister-in-law slumped to the floor.
“You’ve killed me, Mother,” Carol whispered. “Your insane ambition has killed us all.”
A pinched-faced Minna said nothing, merely stared down at her fallen daughter, mouth agape.
“Carol, you’re not going to die,” Elise said, looking around for something to press against the wound.
She plucked a small pillow from the couch and tried to stop the blood flow. But the woman’s eyes fluttered closed.
“Don’t just stand there!” Elise yelled at Minna. She applied more pressure. “Call 9-1-1!”
Minna drew herself up to her full height. Her spine seemed to be made of steel, but still she didn’t move. Not to make the call, not to check on her own daughter. Instead, she got hold of herself and raised the gun.
“You’ll be blamed for Carol’s death, too. You’ll never escape prison again. Don’t worry about dear little Eric, though. I shall take care of him always.”
“You’ll never get your hands on my son again.”
“Oh, but I’m afraid I already have. He went nowhere with that low-class woman he calls Grandma Nancy. I drugged her and locked them in the yacht. And once I take care of you, she’ll have a little accident. I understand she never learned to swim well.”
Fury drove Elise upward, but before she could fully rise, Minna swung the gun at her side and connected with the still-tender wound site. Pain shot through her and, doubled over, she slumped back to the floor. Minna moved in and hit her twice more, this time in the head. Fire pressed at the back of her eyes, and as they drifted out of focus, she collapsed. Then her hand was being molded around something hard.
The gun…
“Now I shall call the authorities and report I’ve heard gunshots…”
And she would be found holding another murder weapon….
BY THE TIME HE ARRIVED at the police station, Logan had gone from grieving over losing the woman he loved to having an itch he couldn’t scratch.
Elise had been right about Mitchell’s not giving it all up. He couldn’t get the bastard on murder, at least not yet. He’d admitted his guilt about siphoning funds—but not about the deaths. What had stopped him?
And where was the harridan the bastard called Mother? Had Minna Mitchell gotten lost along the way, or had she left the estate in the first place?
That thought made him uneasy—as did the thought of letting Mitchell go, which the desk sergeant seemed inclined to do.
“I’m telling you that if you listen to this man, I’ll have your job,” Mitchell said in a reasonable voice. “He’s the one who should be arrested for assault and battery.”
“I’m not the one who was holding a gun on a lady, threatening to shoot her.”
“Gun,” the sergeant echoed. “Where is it?”
The other thing that had been niggling at him. “Back at Mitchell House. It flew somewhere in the struggle. You hold him and I’ll go back for it. And I’ll get the audiotape that proves what I’m saying, as well.”
“I’ll send a squad,” the sergeant said, as Mitchell sputtered about his innocence and his wanting a lawyer and his depriving the sergeant of his pension.
Before the sergeant could dispatch anything, a call came in. He listened for a moment and flicked his gaze at Logan. “Yeah, right.” Hanging up, he said, “Someone just reported gunshots. Guess from where.”
In the end, Kyle Mitchell was held for questioning; both an ambulance and a squad car were called up; and Logan was allowed to leave so he could meet them at Mitchell House.
He drove fast.
Shots…Elise…
She had to be all right. If not, he only had himself to blame. He should have insisted she come with him, he told himself. He should have forced her. But how? He would have had to handcuff her, too. He’d wanted it to be her decision. He’d wanted her to trust him. And while he’d been heartbroken that she hadn’t, part of him understood.
But now he was sorry he’d let her have her way so easily.
His gut was rarely wrong, and right now it was telling him she was the one in mortal danger.
ELISE DRIFTED BACK TO consciousn
ess with a groan. Her head felt as if someone had beaten on it. Forcing her eyes open, she saw Carol, her life’s blood covering the front of her dress—and she remembered the horror.
She sat up to twin pains in her head and side, and for a confused moment she stared at the gun in her hand.
Then memory flooded her.
“Carol!”
She touched the other woman’s arm. While Carol didn’t respond, she seemed to be breathing. Barely.
Hearing a siren in the distance and remembering Minna’s saying she was calling the authorities, Elise got to her feet as quickly as her head would allow. Minna had threatened her mother, had said Mom and Eric were locked in the yacht. She shoved the gun into a pocket, and biting back the pain, headed for the garden door. She stumbled across the lawn, praying she would be in time.
Her mother didn’t know how to swim.
The siren was just up the street now…or were there two of them?
As Elise got to the boathouse, the wind caught her and nearly knocked her over. She stopped and swayed, then hung onto the side of the building until the dizziness passed and she could move again without falling.
A car screeched into the drive behind her. Not wanting anyone to stop her, she rushed on, but when the dock came into view, she saw that only the twenty-footer was in its slip. That and the speedboat she’d “borrowed” earlier. She glanced back as an ambulance pulled behind the car, then she descended to the dock and squinted out at the choppy lake. She spotted navigation lights bobbing wildly only a short distance from shore—the boat had just left the dock.
“Mom, I’m coming. Hold on!” she breathed.
The smaller of the Mitchell boats was faster than the thirty-six-footer, but was it fast enough to get there in time? And if she caught up to Minna, then what?
What could she do alone?
If it came to that…saving her mother—she patted the gun in her pocket and climbed in.
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