by Gibson, Jo
“Her brakes went out?” Carla posed the question, but Andy shook his head.
“That doesn’t make any sense. If her brakes had failed, she would have gone off the edge over there.” Andy pointed to an area over fifty yards away. “It looks like she came out of the curve, stomped on the accelerator, and deliberately crashed through the guardrail.”
“You’re right, son.” Detective Davis walked up, just in time to hear Andy’s comment. “This is no ordinary traffic accident, and that’s why we’re bringing up the car. Normally, we’d leave it down there, but in this case, we have a definite possibility of foul play.”
Carla turned to Detective Davis in surprise. “Do you think someone ran Judy off the road?”
“Not necessarily. We could be looking at a suicide. And we won’t know for sure until we gather all the facts.”
Just then there was a shout from below, and they all peered down to see one of the crew scrambling up the side of the ravine. He was carrying a red purse, and Carla nodded as she recognized it. “That’s Judy’s purse. It’s got her initials on the strap.”
It took several minutes for the officer to climb up the steep bank. When he arrived at Detective Davis’s side, he was puffing. “This was thrown clear, sir.”
Detective Davis took the purse and opened it. They all waited while he went through the wallet inside. “Here’s Miss Lampert’s identification. And here’s a letter addressed to Michael Warden.”
“To me?” Michael looked shocked as he reached for the letter. “But why would Judy . . .”
“Not so fast.” Detective Davis jerked the letter away. “This may be evidence. I’ll have to open it.”
They all followed Detective Davis as he walked over to his squad car. He opened the letter in the beam of headlights, and began to frown as he read it.
“What does it say?” Carla was so nervous, her voice was shaking. If Judy had been upset with Michael, she might have written something to implicate him in the Cupid murders.
Detective Davis looked shocked as he finished reading the letter. Then he sighed, and turned to Michael. “I guess it won’t hurt to read it aloud. I’ll need your permission, though. It’s personal.”
Michael nodded and Detective Davis cleared his throat. “It says,
“I’m sorry, Michael. I just can’t live with my guilt any longer. You were right all along. I’m the Cupid Killer. I murdered Deana, and Becky, and Mary Beth, and Ingrid, and Nita. I killed them all because I was afraid you were falling in love with them. And I couldn’t bear that because I love you so much.
“I told Detective Davis that Marta would give me an alibi, and she lied for me. She had to. Her boyfriend doesn’t have a green card, and I threatened to call Immigration if she didn’t do exactly as I said.
“I’m sorry, Michael. I shouldn’t have let them lock you up at Brookhaven. You told Detective Davis the truth, but he believed me, instead. Now I want to set the record straight. I threatened suicide and you broke into my house, trying to save me. But I called Detective Davis and told him that you were breaking in to kill me. I know I shouldn’t have lied to Detective Davis, and now I’m so very sorry. I’m sorry for what I did to you, and I’m sorry for killing all those girls. When I saw you tonight, I finally realized that you would never love me. And I can’t face the thought of living without your love.
“There’s only one thing to do. I’m going to drive my car through the guardrail and kill myself. But I can’t go to my death without clearing your name. Give this to Detective Davis. He’ll know what to do.
“Goodbye, Michael. Someday, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. My love for you is forever, and that love will never die. I’ll always be right here at your side, watching over you.”
Detective Davis gave a deep sigh as he turned to Michael. “It looks like this clears you. I’m sorry, Michael. She really had me fooled. No hard feelings?”
“Of course not. You were just doing your job.” Michael reached out to shake the detective’s hand. “Judy had almost everyone fooled. She was very convincing and manipulative.”
Carla nodded. It was true. Judy had tried to convince everyone that Michael had attempted to kill her, and she’d almost succeeded. Of course Carla had never been fooled, and neither had Andy. But it had taken them several weeks to persuade all their friends that Michael was innocent.
Just then the winch gave another squeal, and Judy’s car was pulled up, over the lip of the ravine. Michael stared at it and shuddered.
“Are you all right, Michael?” Mr. Calloway put his arm around Michael’s shoulders.
“I’m okay.” Michael turned away from the charred wreckage and faced Detective Davis. “Is she . . . inside?”
Detective Davis nodded, and then he turned to Carla. “You kids are free to go now. Why don’t you ride home with Michael? Andy can follow you and pick you up there. This has been a shock, and I don’t want him driving alone.”
“No.” Michael shook his head. “The least I can do is stay to identify her. I’m okay, Detective Davis . . . really I am.”
Detective Davis frowned, but then he nodded. “All right, if that’s what you want. Just wait by the ambulance while they get her out.”
“You don’t have to stay, Michael.” Carla held Michael’s arm as he walked over to the ambulance. “There’s really no need.”
Michael’s face was white, but he looked very determined. “I have to look at her.”
“I understand.” Andy patted Michael on the shoulder. “Just wait right here with Carla, and I’ll see if there’s anything I can do to help.”
Carla saw the resolved look on Andy’s face, and she gave an approving nod. Andy was going to watch as they pulled Judy’s body from the car. If she looked really awful, he’d think of some reason to keep Michael away.
They waited for several long, tense minutes, Carla holding tightly to Michael’s arm. Then Andy came back with the attendants who were pushing the stretcher.
“Are you sure you want to see her?” Andy stared hard at Michael. “It’s not a pretty sight.”
Michael nodded. “I’m sure.”
Andy nodded to the attendants, and one of them pulled back the sheet. Carla gasped as she saw Judy’s face. Her light blond hair was covered with blood, and part of her face was burned.
“That’s Judy.” Michael swayed slightly on his feet.
Carla shivered. The sight was gruesome. “How can you be so sure?”
“She’s wearing the ponytail holder I gave her for her birthday. And that’s her gold chain. I’d recognize it anywhere.”
Andy nodded to the attendant again, and he pulled up the sheet. Then he turned to Michael. “You’re convinced?”
“Yes.”
Michael started toward his car, and Carla hurried to keep up with him. “I don’t understand, Michael. Why did you insist on seeing her? It was horrible!”
“I know.” Michael sighed deeply. “But I had to make sure the nightmare was really over. It’s all behind us, Carla. Judy Lampert is really dead.”
Three
It was a bright, sunny, August afternoon, and Carla and Michael were at Brookhaven Sanitarium. Michael’s release was official, and Carla had ridden along with him to pick up his things. Now they were standing in the center of the day room, saying goodbye to Dr. Tunney and Nurse Danver.
Carla almost giggled out loud as the doctor reached up to hug Michael. Michael was a couple of inches past the six foot mark, and Dr. Tunney was a very short, heavy-set man in his late forties. He reminded Carla of a koala bear, attempting to hug a giraffe.
“Take care of yourself, Michael.” Dr. Tunney’s eyes were glistening behind the thick lenses of his glasses. “We’re all going to miss you.”
Nurse Danver rushed up to hug Michael, too. And then she pressed a round, gift-wrapped package into his hands.
“What’s this?” Michael glanced down at the package.
“It’s just a little something from the staff. We
didn’t want you to forget us.”
“There’s no way I could ever forget you.” Michael grinned at the gray-haired nurse. “You’re the only ones who believed in me. Except for Carla, of course.”
Carla beamed as Michael opened the package. And then she bit her lip to keep from laughing as she saw what was inside. It was a shiny metal bedpan which had been turned into a planter. The flowers inside were the same type that were planted next to the sidewalk outside.
“Uh . . . thank you!” Michael almost lost it as his eyes met Carla’s, but he managed to control himself. “I’ll keep this out on the patio at home.”
Nurse Danver looked pleased. “The gardener fixed it up for us. He had a few plants left. Don’t forget to water it three times a week, and fertilize it once a month.”
“I’ll remember.” Michael gave Nurse Danver another hug. “Thanks for everything.”
It took only a moment to collect Michael’s belongings. Nurse Danver had already stuffed them into two large shopping bags. She buzzed them out, and Carla and Michael found themselves walking down the sidewalk, the doors of Brookhaven Sanitarium locked securely behind them. They didn’t speak until they reached Michael’s car.
“How does it feel to be free again?” Carla turned to him with a smile.
“Good.” Michael grinned at her. “But it’s also scary. I guess I got used to the routine in there. It’s going to be weird, opening a door without waiting to be buzzed through.”
Carla nodded. “You’ll get used to it. And you’ve got a job, waiting for you. Mr. Calloway wants you back at Covers. It hasn’t been the same since you left.”
“I know.” Michael opened the passenger door for Carla, and then he walked around to slide into the driver’s seat. “I promised I’d start tonight. I’m a little nervous, though. I haven’t performed for over six weeks.”
“You can handle it. We’ll all help you. And you’ve got all your old material.”
“I’ve got some new material, too.” Michael gave her a grin as he started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. “I wrote a song last night, and I think it’s better than anything I’ve ever done before.”
“That’s great! What’s it about?”
Michael looked at her, and Carla’s breath caught in her throat. There was a wistful expression on his face, a look Carla had never seen before.
“You’ll find out tonight. I’d tell you, but it’s a surprise.”
“Okay.” Carla nodded, and leaned back in her seat as Michael pulled out on the highway. She supposed the song was about Judy, and how she’d died for love. Now that Judy was dead, Michael had no reason to hate her. Perhaps he was even grateful that she’d confessed to the murders and cleared him.
“Do you want to stop for a burger?” Michael glanced over at her. “I’m getting hungry.”
“Uh . . . sure. If you want to. But I thought you were dropping me off at Covers and going straight home.”
“I don’t have to go home. My parents are coming to Covers tonight, and I’ll see them then.”
Carla raised her eyebrows. “But don’t you have to change?”
“No. I brought along the clothes I’m wearing tonight. They’re in the trunk. Since we don’t have to be at work until seven, I thought I’d treat you to a hamburger at Don’s Place.”
Carla’s heart beat a little faster. This was practically a date! But, of course, it wasn’t. Michael was probably grateful she’d gone along with him to Brookhaven, and this was his way of paying her back.
“Is that a yes? Or a no?”
Michael was grinning and Carla grinned back. “It’s a yes. I’ve heard a lot about Don’s and I’ve always wanted to go there. Is anyone else meeting us there?”
“No one I know. What’s the matter, Carla? Are you afraid to go out for a hamburger with a former mental patient?”
“Of course not!” Carla was almost offended until she realized that Michael was teasing her. She’d prove that she could tease him right back.
“You’re sure?”
Michael’s eyes were twinkling, and Carla put on her best worried expression. “I trust you, Michael. After all, Dr. Tunney said you were fully recovered. And by the way . . . they use plastic knives at Don’s Place, don’t they?”
Carla grinned as she took her place on the stool by the light board. The hamburgers at Don’s had been great, and she didn’t even care that she’d dripped mustard all over her blouse. Michael had been in a wonderful mood, and he’d told her funny stories about Dr. Tunney and Nurse Danver. They’d munched their way through two burgers apiece, and shared a huge order of onion rings. The time had passed so quickly, they’d almost been late for work.
When they’d come in the door at Covers, laughing and eating the rest of their onion rings, everyone else had been there. Michael had been greeted by warm handshakes from everyone on the staff, and Carla had rushed off to get her roll of tickets. But when she’d emerged from the office, Mr. Calloway had told her that one of the new waitresses would be selling tickets and seating the audience. It was a good thing she’d written down all the light cues, because he wanted her to fill in as the stage manager until they found a replacement for Judy.
“Are you ready, Carla?” Michael came up, behind the screen, and set down the stool he was carrying. “I’m doing the intro, tonight.”
Carla looked down at her notes. “But what about the light cues?”
“Don’t worry. Just light me the way you lit Mr. Calloway.”
“Oh, sure!” Carla giggled. “If I do that, the spot’s going to be four feet over your head. Mr. Calloway stands, and you’re using a stool.”
Michael grinned. “You’re right. And I never thought of that. Do you want me to stand?”
“That’s not necessary.” Carla shook her head. “I’ll adjust, once you get in position. Go ahead, Michael. I’ve got you.”
“I wish.” Michael sighed, and gave her a brief hug. “Okay, Carla. I’m ready.”
Carla frowned slightly as Michael walked out on the stage and positioned himself on the stool. She was trying to remember their conversation. She’d said, I’ve got you. And he’d replied, I wish. What was that supposed to mean? If some ordinary guy had said those same words to an ordinary girl, it would be flirting. But she was Carla, the plainest girl at Covers. It was totally inconceivable that Michael Warden, the handsome star, had been flirting with her!
Somehow Carla managed to light Michael’s introduction. She even succeeded in her attempt to change colors on the Covers logo in the background, just as Judy had done. But all the while she was pushing and pulling levers, and flicking switches on and off, Carla was thinking about what Michael had said. And then it was time for Michael’s first song.
Carla dimmed to black, and brought up the spot very gradually. She’d experimented a bit with the lighting at rehearsal, and all of her changes were a huge success. A soft amber light was focused directly on Michael’s guitar. That threw his face into shadow, and made him look a bit like the famous posters of James Dean. It was sexy without being blatant, and romantic without being sappy. Her lighting made Michael look unbelievably handsome, and Carla felt her heart beat a rapid tattoo in her chest.
“I’ve got a new song for you, tonight.” Michael’s voice was low and friendly, and Carla felt a flutter of anticipation. Michael had been very secretive about his new song. He’d told her how to light it, but he hadn’t sung it for anyone at rehearsal.
“This song is the story of a remarkable girl. She’s always right there to try to help her friend, but he doesn’t realize she even exists. He’s busy dating other girls and having fun, but this girl is loyal to the end. I call it ‘Angel’ because that’s what she is. She’s always there for him, just like a guardian angel looking over his shoulder.”
Carla almost groaned out loud. Just as she’d suspected, Michael had written a song for Judy. Even though she was dead, Judy still had a hold on him. Carla couldn’t blame Michael. He was an incurable romantic.
But what Michael was doing was wrong. He was out on stage, paying tribute to the girl who’d almost ruined his life.
Michael started to strum his guitar, and Carla brought up the spot until Michael’s face was surrounded by a rosy glow. Since he’d told her to leave the lighting just as it was until the song was finished, she sat back down on her stool, and sighed. She didn’t want to listen, but that was impossible. Michael’s mellow voice was impossible to resist. He had a way with a song that was almost magical.
As Michael sang his song, Carla felt her spirits take a nose dive. Even though Judy was dead, she had accomplished what she’d set out to do. Michael was hers. The words of his song proved that. And then the song ended on a plaintive note, and the audience began to applaud. They were glad that Michael was back. He was better than ever.
“Thank you.” Michael stood up and bowed to the audience. “And now I think you should meet the girl who was the inspiration for this song. What do you think?
“Carla? Come out here, and take a bow. I think all of you know about the hassles I’ve been going through, and Carla’s stuck with me through it all. She’s my best friend, and I just wanted to show my appreciation by writing this song and singing it for her tonight.”
Carla’s mouth dropped open. Michael had written that song for her? But . . . that was impossible! No one had ever written a song for her before!
“I guess she’s too shy.” Michael turned toward the wings to give Carla a big smile. Then he faced the audience again. “You’ve all met Carla. She’s filling in as stage manager tonight, but she’s usually the girl who takes your tickets and seats you at a table. Let’s have a big round of applause for Carla Fields, the nicest girl I’ve ever known.”
Just then Linda O’Keefe came up behind the black screen that separated the stage wings from the audience. Her act was next. “Congratulations, Carla. You really made a big hit with Michael.”
“But . . . I don’t know how. I didn’t do anything special.” Carla knew she sounded puzzled.