He stared at the door. Another man had married Darla. Another man had carried her over the threshold. The image gnawed at him. It hurt. Standing there watching, knowing this was Darla’s wedding night with Randy. He tried to stop his thoughts from focusing on what might be happening inside the room. Sex, not love. If this Randy guy’s intentions were as dire as Lacey made them sound, then he was using her, not loving her.
And if his plan was to actually hurt Darla, Jake couldn’t bring himself to use the term kill, then how was watching from a distance going to stop that?
He had half a mind to pound on the door and then pound on Randy’s face. “We’re on to you,” he’d say. “So give it up.”
Yeah, he could do that. And then he’d be arrested and this guy, if he was a killer, a psychopath, he would still get the job done. Whatever that job was. Because that’s what psychopaths did.
They had been in the room all of ten minutes when Randy came out the door. Jake moved from the bike to make certain he was obscured by the oleander he was parked next to. Randy took a cigarette from a pack in his pocket and lit it. He drew on the thing and looked back at his room. He took a second and third puff, dropped it and crushed it. Then he took out his cell phone and walked as he called someone.
It was dark. If he kept a little bit of distance between them maybe he could get close enough to hear the conversation. He would have to risk it.
Jake stepped around the foliage and immediately stepped back in when Randy turned around. He was pacing, not walking away. Whomever he called answered.
“Are you here?” Jake heard Randy say. “Well, there’s been a hitch.” Randy actually walked away from the building and close to the tree and bushes where Jake was hidden. He held his breath, his heart pounding. What would he say if he was caught spying?
Randy lowered his voice but was near enough now that Jake had no trouble eavesdropping.
“You’ll have to do it in person. I don’t know what happened to the headband. She swears she packed it, but it’s not there. I’m afraid I lost my cool and now she’s all upset.” He paused, listening. “Let’s just say that wasn’t going to happen. She is a nut case. I’ll go in and calm her down. I’ll give her a pill. Light enough so that you can wake her. It’s what?”
Randy checked his watch.
“Okay. I’ll tell her we need to get a good night’s sleep and we’ll head back for Los Angeles in the morning. She’ll like that. She wants to go home. Doesn’t give a hoot about Carmel or the scenic drive.” He paused again. “I don’t know. She’s on the edge which is what we wanted, so . . .” He nodded. “Yeah. Eleven’s good. I’ll leave the key in the slot for you, then hang out at the swimming pool for a couple of minutes.”
Randy listened.
“I don’t want her racing outside screaming for me. We don’t want a scene. Or maybe we do.”
Randy thought for a second.
“But then someone might see you. Three minutes should be enough. Sit on the bed and put your hand over her mouth. That’ll work.”
He hung up and went back in the room.
Jake immediately called Lacey.
Lacey closed her eyes and listened with some relief to Jake’s words: “The good news is, he isn’t planning on killing her.”
She and Dan had finished at the police station. Then they had gone to get something to eat, putting off that monkey business. They were back at the mansion for her to pick up some clothes and a toothbrush. Dan was doing a walk-through, looking for the boogeyman, which Lacey appreciated, but knew was a waste of time. The boogeyman was in Santa Barbara with her sister.
“How do you know?” Lacey asked Jake.
“I heard him on his cell. Someone’s helping him. I won’t go into it all, but if I can get a picture of this person with my phone, I’ll send it to you. Oh, and get this. The honeymoon is over. They’re heading home tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. That meant Lacey had to act fast. She had to break into Randy’s apartment tonight. She checked the hall outside her room and didn’t see Dan. She ended the conversation with Jake and called Sigmund. She asked him to meet her and gave him Randy’s address.
It was about a fifteen to twenty minute drive from Lacey’s house to Dan’s and Lacey hadn’t arrived. Traffic had been heavy in spots and she had vanished from his rearview mirror.
And now she wasn’t answering her phone.
Dan put his cell on the coffee table and tried to think. Was there something to be worried about? This was Lacey, after all. Unpredictable. Something he never thought he would like in a person, but he liked in her. He smiled despite himself. He pictured her barging into his house, negotiating for a pork chop. He pictured her testing him about that glass of Cabernet.
Then he saw her the night of her father’s murder. In the kitchen. In that sexy magician assistant’s costume where her breasts were bursting at the seams. She had been so vulnerable, her world spinning out of control. And yet, she still had this strength that said she would always be able to weather the storm. He had wanted her in his arms right then. In fact, he had taken her in his arms.
He closed his eyes and remembered the sensation of her body next to his, desire traveling from his heart to everywhere else. He’d kissed her and had to fight to let her go. He felt that desire now, and his analytical mind took over. Had he invited her to stay with him out of concern or because he wanted her near?
The answer came quickly. Both. He wanted her, yes. But he was concerned. That house was huge. She needed to stay with him. He intended to keep her safe.
He grabbed his cell phone again. This time he sent a text.
Standing with Sigmund outside Randy’s apartment, Lacey read the text Dan had sent. Where RU?
She needed to say something. She texted back. B there soon. Friend in need.
Sigmund opened the door with a “Ta da! My work here is done.” He bowed and took off down the hall.
Lacey closed the door behind her. If there was anything here worth finding, it wouldn’t be hidden well. At least that was what she hoped. Randy wouldn’t be expecting anyone to break into his apartment. He thought he was smarter than everyone. The police couldn’t truly suspect him of anything. He was a golden boy. She saw it even more now. His arrogance. His conceit.
The apartment was a one bedroom and Randy’s desk and computer were in a corner of the living room. A logical place to start.
It didn’t take long. Drawers weren’t locked, and tucked between the pages of a cheap ninety-nine cent notebook was a handwritten list. ‘Plan B’ was written at the top. Then jotted beneath:
Floor plan
Mask
Suit/wigs
Radios/headbands
Gain her trust
Disposable phones
Harper
Gun/bullets
Plant
Valium
Marry Darla
Edward
Honeymoon, one last message from mother
The talk
Lacey
Her heart was pounding now. It was frightening to see it all in writing. Neither Maggot’s name nor Tiffany’s—or rather Honey’s if Tiffany was part of this scheme—were on the list. They must have been details that had cropped up. Collateral damage, so to speak.
She stared at her name at the bottom of the list and felt a chill. She sat stunned for a couple of seconds. Her name could only mean Randy was planning on killing her. Where? When?
Honeymoon. Talk. Lacey.
The answer was clear: Soon.
She took a deep breath and stuffed the list in her purse. This was no time to be a wuss. At least she was on to him and she had found more than a couple of radio receivers. She had his list in his handwriting. More proof.
But was it enough?
She searched the rest of the desk and found where he kept his receipts. Everything was jumbled together: Grocery receipts. Clothing receipts. Miscellaneous this and that. Too bad there wasn’t a folder that said: Mur
derous Plan Receipts.
She rifled through the folder and didn’t find anything for the purchase of a mask or wigs. But she did find the receipt for the gun he had given Darla and for bullets. That wouldn’t prove much. It wasn’t a secret he’d bought Darla a gun. She took the receipt anyway.
She found nothing else and neatened the desk so he wouldn’t know she had been there. With any luck, when he discovered the list was gone, he might just think he had misplaced it. That is, if he wasn’t under arrest and was free to notice.
She wondered if there was anything else to find in his apartment. Maybe the gun itself?
She went into the bedroom and rummaged through his bureau. There was no gun. She eyed the closet and searched there. No gun, but she found a box of bullets on the floor in a corner. She took them. If he had to buy ammunition that would at least slow him down.
She looked at his clothes hanging in the closet. There were a number of suits, shirts, ties. Nothing out of the ordinary. She closed the closet door.
That was it. She didn’t know what else to snoop for. Now the question was, should she take the list and receipts to Dan? Dan being Dan, might get excited about the fact that she had committed burglary. Would he arrest her?
Out came that pesky image of him placing her in handcuffs. She didn’t really have a thing for handcuffs, did she? Okay. This was a distraction. She was avoiding making a decision.
She left the apartment and hurried to her car. Dan’s or home? Dan’s.
She was about to pull the Spyder into the street when her chest tightened with fear and beads of sweat broke out on her forehead. The situation hit her for real. Randy-the-monster had made Darla learn how to shoot a gun. Lacey’s name was the last on the list. He meant for Darla to shoot her. That had to be it. He was going to make her sister do the dirty work.
Fear gave way to anger.
How dare he? How dare he wipe out her family? Kill her? And use someone as delicate and precious as Darla to pull the trigger? When Darla realized what she did, it would destroy her. And that had to be what he wanted. He would be the last man standing. Everything would go to him.
Don’t forget about Crystal. If she was part of this, then she was worse than Lacey thought. She had deserted her and Darla, and was willing to kill them.
Lacey wouldn’t go to Dan’s yet. She decided she needed to find Darla’s gun.
Of course, maybe Randy had taken it with him on the honeymoon.
Look, honey, what I brought along. And I blew up this picture of your sister. Won’t it be fun? You can practice shooting her in the head. Yes, the head. You’ve already pretty much broken her heart.
Lacey succeeded in pulling into the street this time. She was determined. If the gun was in Darla’s room she would find it. She would take it and . . .
A flaw in her plan. Take it and Randy would just get another.
She propped an elbow on the door and leaned her head on her hand. Yeah, he would get another. At least, as things were now, she had an idea when her death was supposed to come down the pike. She could take steps to protect herself. The question was, what steps?
She could get Darla alone and talk to her. She’d tell her everything she knew. Maybe she’d be able to destroy Randy’s brainwashing before it destroyed the both of them. Hopefully.
She took a deep breath. Yeah, hopefully. That’s what she needed now. Hope.
Her phone beeped and she checked it. Another text from Dan. She answered him: Forgot something. Have 2 stop by house.
She drove home as fast as she could and immediately headed for Darla’s room.
Randy was a monster. A psychopath. A textbook snake charmer. She had to stop him. She would stop him.
And what about his accomplice? What about their mother?
Jake watched Randy leave the motel room right on schedule. Eleven o’clock. He watched Randy cut across the parking lot in the direction of the swimming pool. When he was out of sight, Jake moved in.
He positioned himself in front of the door to the honeymoon room and took out his cell phone. He pulled up the camera feature and waited.
It seemed like forever and a year, but finally he heard footsteps. They were light and quick. A woman’s. He readied the phone and when she appeared on the walkway he took a picture.
She froze and exclaimed, “What the hell!”
Jake put the phone to his side. She was a petite woman. A blonde. She wasn’t standing near any illumination and it was tough to tell more than that.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you. You’re not a ghost, are you? I heard this place was haunted so I thought I’d roam around and take a few pictures. I’m not an actual ghost hunter, per se. You know, not a member of any team or anything like you see on TV.” He looked slightly to the side of her. “Is that an orb?” He raised his phone, but before he could take another shot, she scurried away.
Jake smiled. He kept his voice low. “Run. Scurry. Scamper like a rat, Rat.” He walked to the parking lot and saw her crossing toward the pool. She wouldn’t be back. He moved to his hiding place before Randy showed.
Grinning to himself at the image of the rat running, he put his butt on the ground behind the tree and turned his head. He could see the honeymoon door through the foliage.
Randy soon appeared, frazzled movements saying he was bugged. After looking about for several seconds, he entered the room.
Lacey could have sworn she saw the light beneath the door to Darla’s room switch off. But that was ridiculous. No one else was in the house. Her heart began to pound as she came close and she talked to herself to calm her nerves.
“Get a grip. Boogeyman and conspirator are out of town.”
She pushed the door open, went in, and flipped on the light. No one. She felt her body relax just a little.
Swiftly, she moved to Darla’s dresser and plopped her big purse on top of it.
“Sock or underwear drawer?”
She pawed through both and came up empty.
“Okay, T-shirt and shorts.” She took a deep breath. “Good thing you’re going to Dan’s because I think you’re really a lot more nervous than—”
She opened the drawer and there it was, the gun placidly lying on top of a pristine white T-shirt. She stared at it. A 9 mm Smith & Wesson pistol, the weapon of choice for her demise.
No poker for her. No banging her on the head. Wasn’t Randy thoughtful? Quick and easy. Bam. Bam. Good-bye, ma’am. Make that: Bang. Bang. You’re dead, Lacey.
For a second she pictured herself staring down its barrel, Darla on the other end. She fixated on the mental image. Frozen.
She didn’t like guns any more than Darla did. She’d gone shooting a few times. One of her boyfriends had loved guns.
That had been a shoot-‘em-up summer. Well, a couple of weeks of one summer. All her boyfriend had wanted to do was shoot. Shoot at the firing range. Shoot out in the desert. Shoot soda cans. Shoot road signs. Destroy state property. He couldn’t wait for hunting season. Lacey couldn’t get into shooting defenseless animals for sport, or even defenseless road signs for that matter. She broke up with him pretty quickly.
She took a deep breath and picked up the gun. She checked it. Yep. It was loaded. The safety wasn’t even latched.
“Lacey.”
Gun in hand, Lacey whirled around. Her heart dropped out of her chest.
There in the flesh was the woman who had bore her. The woman who had deserted her. The woman she had searched the house to find any remnant of.
It was also the woman she saw as a child, cuddling Darla in the middle of the night. It was the woman in Maggot’s photo.
It was her mother, there was no mistake. Crystal. Tiffany. Whatever her name was. Here she was alive, standing in the middle of Darla’s bedroom.
Thirty
“I DIDN’T EXPECT open arms, but . . .” Tiffany’s eyes were focused on the gun, her hands in the air up to her shoulders in the classic pose.
“What? This?” Lacey wiggled the gun
, but didn’t put it down. “This is what happens to little girls when their mother deserts them and they’re raised in a house by a couple of liars who give them no love.”
“Lacey, please.”
“A man comes along. A real charmer, and he turns one sister against the other. He gives the fragile daughter a dangerous weapon. People get murdered. A father. A maggot. A roommate. A grandfather.” Lacey tapped the butt of the gun against her chest. “With more on the way.”
“What?” Tiffany relaxed her hands, but left them in the air.
“Murder! Lots of it.” Lacey wiggled the gun again.
“I know, but . . . you’re blaming me?”
“Why not? You weren’t here to keep us on the straight and narrow. You weren’t here to intervene with Edward. You weren’t here to love us, protect us, teach us. You weren’t here to change the course of things. Do you hear that operative phrase? You . . . weren’t . . . here.”
“And you think I wanted it that way?”
“How would I know what you wanted? You. Weren’t. Here.”
Lacey’s cell phone beeped. With gun in hand, eyes on Tiffany, she pulled it from her purse and glanced. A text message from Jake: Mission accomplished. See photo.
Lacey pulled it up, copping brief looks at her mother, until the image of a petite blond woman walking toward the camera mesmerized her. Jake had let Randy’s accomplice get close enough so that the flash highlighted the woman’s hair and face. The face was Crystal’s, placidly frozen. But something was “off” about it. Still. There was no doubt. It was her. She lowered the gun without thinking.
“How can you be in two places at once?” She raised her eyes. Tiffany was gone.
She hurried to the open door and saw no one. She could give chase, but probably wouldn’t find her now. And what was she going to do, anyway? Point and shoot? She didn’t have the energy or the inclination.
She sank onto Darla’s bed, reached out her hand and let go of the gun. Then she stared at the picture on the phone and enlarged it. The face looked real, but it didn’t. Especially the eyes. They were . . . staring through slits.
Bouquet of Lies Page 22