Countdown

by Carey Baldwin

  Her hand trembled as she reached for her water glass. “Then what’s to stop him from coming after me next?”

  “That’s a big leap, Lilly,” Spense said. Though not an unthinkable one. They needed to determine quickly if Tommy Preston was an innocent victim or something worse. At the moment they had no indication, other than Lilly’s assertion that her sister wasn’t violent, to implicate Preston in anything. “Let’s back up and start by having you explain why you agreed to let Tommy take out a policy on you in the first place. You must’ve given your consent.”

  “I did.”

  “And you would’ve had to have some sort of financial interest in one another, too. Were you . . . are you and Tommy Preston business partners?”

  Her face flushed. “Of course not.”

  To Spense, Lilly seemed oddly offended by the suggestion.

  Caity shot him a questioning look, picking up on the sudden increase in tension in the air.

  He shifted in his seat before continuing. “Okay. Not business partners. Then what exactly is your connection to Tommy Preston? Besides the fact that he’s married to your sister.”

  Lilly took another sip of coffee and dropped her head into her hands, obviously distressed by the question. He checked his watch. A full three minutes went by before she looked up again.

  She yanked a tissue from a box on the coffee table and blew her nose, then pulled in a shaky breath. “I met Tommy Preston at a department store. I was working at the jewelry counter. He bought a few pieces, very lovely, very expensive ones. I assumed they were for a girlfriend, but he volunteered that the jewelry was for his mother. Do you believe that?”

  Spense didn’t know if he did or not. “Was it?”

  “Absolutely. His mother is here in Tahiti for the wedding. You should talk to her, too. Maybe she can shed some light on things.”

  “We’ll do that,” Caity said. “But you were saying you were working as a saleswoman when you met Tommy.”

  “Yes. We got to talking, and we hit it off. He kept coming back every day. And he always bought something.”

  “That’s a lot of jewelry.”

  “It is. Anyway, he’s very charming, as I’m sure you’ll find out. And obviously, he’s very good-looking.”

  Spense shrugged.

  “He is,” Caity agreed. “And that must’ve been a nice commission for you.”

  She flushed again. “Well, yes. You can see how a girl would be swept off her feet.”

  Spense didn’t see that. A man buying a lot of jewelry for someone else would’ve made him suspicious, not goo-goo eyed. But Caity nodded vigorously, so there must be something to Lilly’s point.

  “And it wasn’t just his charm. I’d recently lost my papa and Tommy was so very, very kind to me. But after a few weeks, he said he couldn’t afford to keep buying his mother jewelry, and could we go for coffee. Of course, I said yes. We wound up dating, and eventually we talked about moving in together. Naturally, I wanted Rose to meet him first.”

  “She hadn’t met him before then?”

  Lilly looked down at her hands. “No. I guess I wanted to keep him all to myself for a little while. You see, since we were little girls, we’ve always shared everything. Twins and all—we’re not identical, but still. And our mother wasn’t around—she died giving birth to us. Honestly, Rose and I are almost too close. She’s incredibly protective of me, and I suppose I wanted some sort of boundary. A little bit of independence.”

  “From Rose?”

  “And from Papa. I know it sounds weird because he was already dead, but my whole life I’ve never had any freedom to go my own way. Rose and I always had to be so cautious around everyone because of Papa’s business—he called it the life—and when I was with Tommy, it was the first time I didn’t have to be careful about what I said or did. I felt like I could be my own person. Just myself, Lilly. Not Lilly Parker, George’s daughter and Rose’s sister.”

  Even though he and Caity kept up their most effective interrogation technique—silence—Lilly stopped talking. She just sat there, a blank look in her eyes that made him want to snap his fingers to bring her out of her trance. When it became crystal clear she wouldn’t continue on her own, Spense filled in the gaps for her.

  “And when you finally did introduce Rose to Tommy, she stole your boyfriend. That’s why she thinks you hate her, and that’s why you didn’t want them to get married.”

  Lilly brought her fist to her mouth and bit it. A muffled sob came out of her throat. “Rose didn’t steal my boyfriend. She stole my fiancé. I was the one who was supposed to marry Tommy.”

  That explained the life insurance policies. Tommy and Lilly had obtained policies on each other during the time they were engaged. Then Tommy switched sisters and took insurance out on Rose, too. The premiums were paid up for a while. Lilly had mentioned that earlier, so Tommy still held policies on both women.

  Could all be totally innocent . . . or a hell of a motive for murder. But for whom?

  This could support Lilly’s theory that Rose shot Tommy in self-defense, but it didn’t explain why Rose had a gun on her person on her wedding day. If Spense ignored his gut, and stuck strictly to logic, the facts pointed to premeditation on Rose’s part. She married a rich guy and planned to murder him, collect his entire estate and a fat life insurance policy to boot. And Lilly would get a nice windfall, too, from the policy she held on Preston. A big win for both Parker sisters . . . if Rose could pull it off.

  “That must have been devastating for you,” Caity said.

  “I’ve never felt more betrayed. More alone in the world. And it wasn’t just that she took him from me. It was that she lied to me—her own sister. I love Rose unconditionally, and you would think that if she fell in love with Tommy she would’ve simply said so. But instead, she came to me with a horrible, horrible story, trying to get me to break up with him. My own sister tried to con me out of my fiancé.”

  A connection pinged back in Spense’s head to something Lilly had said earlier. “Is that what you meant when you mentioned you didn’t know firsthand of any violence Tommy had committed?”

  Lilly nodded. Now that she was rolling, she seemed ready to tell them everything. “Yes. Rose came to me, about six months ago, and told me I had to get away from Tommy. She claimed she’d met a woman—a prostitute named Pamela Jean—and this woman had information on Tommy that could destroy everything he’d worked to build. His business, his reputation in the community, everything. Rose said Tommy had beaten Pamela Jean to keep her quiet.” Her face took on a ghostly pallor. “Rose said this prostitute had later died from her injuries. She begged me to leave Tommy, and to go with her right then and there to California.”

  “To start the yoga studio?”

  “Yes.”

  Spense had to wonder where the Parker sisters had thought they’d get the money for that studio. If Lilly was working at a department store, it didn’t suggest wealth. But maybe they were due an inheritance from their father.

  “When I refused, Rose pleaded with me over and over again. She just wouldn’t let up about Tommy beating this Pamela Jean person to death.”

  Caity leaned forward and held Lilly’s gaze. “If your sister, with whom you’re incredibly close, warned you so adamantly about your fiancé, I’m truly surprised you didn’t listen to her. Why didn’t you heed her warning?”

  “I loved him. And I didn’t believe her. I’m telling you she lies all the time.”

  “But didn’t you at least look into the matter?” Spense asked.

  “I looked through the newspapers, and I didn’t find any stories about a woman beaten to death. Riverbend is a small town. Surely there would’ve been some report of it. I called the police, too. I didn’t mention Tommy of course but I asked about a woman being beaten.”

  “And what did they say?”

  She let out a hard breath and blinked back tears. “They said women are beaten all the time by their husbands and boyfriends. That it doesn’t usua
lly make the papers, and that they couldn’t give me any specifics about any cases. I wasn’t entitled unless I was family. But one officer seemed to want to ease my mind, and he told me he would say that he was unaware of any case involving someone named Pamela Jean.”

  “Maybe that wasn’t her real name,” Caity said softly.

  “Maybe Rose made the whole thing up.” Lilly raised her chin. “Tommy never laid a hand on me. He was nothing but wonderful, always treated me with respect.”

  “Until he threw you over for your sister,” Spense said.

  “Well, yes. But there you have it. Rose’s reason for lying. If this whole Pamela Jean story were anything but a complete fabrication she would never have dated Tommy, much less married him. She made the whole thing up to cause a rift between us because she wanted him for herself.”

  Spense was beginning to think Rose might be a lot more diabolical than they’d given her credit for. “Let me get this straight. I’m going to review what I heard you say, and you correct me if I get anything wrong.”

  Caity pulled out a pen and pad.

  Spense watched Lilly’s face as he spoke. “You met and became engaged to Tommy Preston. He never hurt you in any way. After you introduced him to Rose, she told you that she had information that he had beaten a prostitute to death in order to cover up information that could ruin him. You made some efforts to check the story and concluded it was false. Then Rose started dating Tommy and eventually became engaged to him and married to him. That doesn’t speak well of your sister—that she would lie like that, and steal your fiancé.”

  Lilly began to cry. A few tears at first, and then in earnest. When she finally regained control of her emotions, she said, “Rose isn’t a bad person. She doesn’t usually lie to me. It’s other people she lies to, and that isn’t so terrible.”

  Caity put down her pen. “What do you mean?”

  “She lies because of the life. It’s the way Papa raised us. Papa made a living off of confidence schemes, and when he’d finish one, we’d have to pull up roots. Change towns and schools. Even our hair color.”

  “Did your father use you and Rose in his con games?”

  “Not until we were seven or eight. But yes. And who can blame him? No one ever suspected two little girls of doing anything illegal. But we did. And we lied a lot. But never to each other. That was part of our code. Family first. Lying isn’t a sin. It’s only a tool to make a con game work.”

  “You mentioned a code. What else was in the code?”

  “We never hurt anyone. Physically, that is. We didn’t involve ourselves with drugs or rob banks.”

  “So white collar crime.”

  “Yes. And Papa chose his marks from those who could afford to spare it. And from the greedy. Papa always said he didn’t bring anyone down. It was their own greed that did that.”

  “Honor among thieves. That kind of thing,” Spense said. But it seemed like bull to him. Just a way to excuse dishonest behavior and keep his girls’ good opinion.

  “Yes. So you see, even if my sister lies sometimes, it doesn’t make her a bad person. It doesn’t make her a murderer.”

  “But Rose broke the family code when she lied to you.” By Lilly’s own report, she and her sister had fallen out over Tommy. Their close relationship would only have amplified Lilly’s sense of having been betrayed. Spense had to admit that Lilly’s concern for her sister, in spite of everything Rose had done to her, made him want to stick this thing out and get to the truth more than ever.

  By the rapt look of attention on Caity’s face, she was in this for the duration, too.

  “I—I need to talk to Tommy,” Lilly said as if it had only just occurred to her. “I’ve been avoiding it. I didn’t go see him in the hospital, but his mother tells me he’s back at the hotel now. I—I want to give him a chance to tell me what really happened. There’s no reason to be scared of the truth, right?”

  Sometimes there was, but Spense didn’t see the benefit to anyone in saying so.

  “I just have one more question for you.” Caity’s voice was soft and low. As she spoke, she seemed to be searching Lilly’s eyes, as though this were going to be the most important question she’d put to the woman all morning. “Are you still in love with Tommy Preston?”

  Chapter 17

  Thursday

  Hôtel De Plage Dauphin

  Tahiti Nui

  Tommy pulled the baggie of heroin out of his pants pocket and slid it into Rose’s drawer in between her silk nighties. In case it was discovered, he’d shift the blame onto her.

  He moved into the sitting area of his bungalow, plunked down on the sofa and removed his shoes. Even without an established contact, the H had been easy to obtain. It’d taken him little more than an hour to find it, procure it, and get back to his bungalow.

  Good thing.

  Because Inspector Brousseau had just requested another interview, and . . . Lilly, it seemed, was coming to him.

  What a lovely surprise.

  Through the immaculate front window, he recognized her upturned nose, her shimmering blond hair, and the elegant way she carried herself: shoulders back, chin high, and a fluidness in her movements that came from years of contorting her limbs into yoga positions.

  Showtime.

  He worked the smile on his face into a pained grimace, grabbed his chest and doubled over. If he could see Lilly, by extension, Lilly could see him. Pivoting in his chair, he flashed her a good view of his rugged profile, waited until he heard the sound of her shoes flip-flopping up the steps, and then moaned loudly, because the same principle applied—if he could hear her, she could hear him.

  Once she’d moved away from the window, he gritted his teeth, and then, bearing down with a clamped jaw, he pumped his fists, fast and hard, knowing all of this would raise his blood pressure, redden his face, and bulk up the vein that bisected his forehead. By the time he went to answer Lilly’s soft knock, sweat moistened his hairline. He didn’t need a mirror to know he looked like a man in sheer agony.

  Poor Tommy.

  He flung open the door.

  “Oh, no.” Lilly’s stunner green eyes went wide, and her pupils enlarged sexily, but he had to admit she looked less appealing than he was accustomed to due to the puffiness in her face and the red splotches on her usually flawless complexion. She’d been crying—probably all night long.

  Awesome.

  He mentally rubbed his hands together in glee, which was a little trick he’d learned as a boy. Permitting himself inward gestures of genuine self-expression made it a lot easier to conform outwardly to what was expected and expedient.

  Wordlessly he motioned her inside, biding his time, waiting for her cue before deciding on his stance. Lilly was hopelessly in love with him, he knew that for a fact, and she’d been terribly angry when her sister had seduced him out from under her—he imagined raising a champagne glass to toast his delightful pun. Then he put the self-congratulations away in order to focus on Lilly and get a good read on her.

  Her fate was sealed, but his method and timing were not yet set.

  How long Lilly lived would depend upon how well and how long he could use her.

  Would she take his side or Rose’s?

  Even bad blood is thicker than water, as evidenced by Lilly’s attendance at the wedding despite her crushed feelings. And Lilly and Rose were twins, albeit fraternal ones. Their connection was undeniable, powerful. But would it trump the spell he’d cast over Lilly from the moment he’d discovered her working her nubile fingers to the bone convincing powerful men to buy diamonds for other women?

  Between him and Rose it was probably a toss-up.

  Lucky for him, he had the advantage of being physically present, whereas Rose would have to exert her influence by acting only in Lilly’s memory.

  He made a show of walking with difficulty as he returned to the sofa.

  Lilly reached one hand out, nearly touching his cheek, but then abruptly withdrew the offer. “Are you hur
t very badly?”

  “Is that why you’ve come? To check on my well-being?”

  “Y-yes. And to find out what happened between you and my sister.”

  A good con woman would’ve left it at yes. Then again Lilly never was good at lies—unlike her sister, whose acumen for deception he’d grown to admire.

  “I’ll live,” he said, permitting what he considered to be an expected amount of resentment to seep into his voice. And no need to feign that. How dare Rose think she could get the better of him.

  At first he hadn’t seen her game because Rose was good at making people believe anything she said, and he had so much to offer a woman it wasn’t logical for Rose not to want him and all that went along with being Mrs. Tommy Preston. Naturally he’d believed she’d wanted to marry him.

  What woman wouldn’t?

  And naturally he’d believed she’d felt rivalry with Lilly and had wanted to come out the winner in the husband game.

  What sister wouldn’t?

  It had come as a complete surprise to him to learn of Rose’s nefarious intent to ruin him. But now, after a couple of days’ recuperation and a good sleep last night, he thought he’d figured it out.

  Rose loved Lilly above all else, and he had come between her and her sister.

  That had to be the reason.

  His engagement to Lilly had killed the precious plan to open a ridiculous enterprise in Santa Monica—a posh yoga studio for the rich and bored. To Rose, that damn studio represented some kind of fantasy life that she called “normal.”

  What Rose didn’t understand was that “normal” was a unicorn.

  “Let’s sit down. You look like you’re in pain,” Lilly said.

  She was being solicitous, but not overly so.

  He surveyed Lilly through narrowed eyes. He’d underestimated one Parker sister already, and he didn’t intend to make the same mistake twice. It wasn’t entirely outside the realm of possibility that Lilly was somehow in cahoots with her sister. After all, they were both cons—even if one sister was better at it than the other.