An atavistic instinct warned me to play dead, to keep my eyes closed.
“Okay, Kitt Morgan. Time to rise and shine.”
I opened my right eye a slit. Night time. But a night silvery with moonlight.
Where was I? Who was with me? I closed my eye and listened. Somewhere nearby water flowed into a pool. My hand touched something smooth. A plate? Again, I opened an eye and this time my surroundings came into sharper focus. Moonglow lighted a pool where water flowed over rocks and splashed against water lilies. I was lying on tile. A giant ficus tree guarded a bricked archway. Now I knew. West Martello. I lay inside the garden center. Janell? No. Janell wouldn’t be working here after dark. The gates closed at sunset.
Crazy thoughts ran through my head. I could hear Janell telling me about garden club ladies sharing plants from their personal gardens to get this center started, getting tile from Cuba. Tile from Cuba. Was that possible? My mind wouldn’t let go of the thought. Garden Center. Cuban tile. In the distance I could hear traffic sounds. And in the next moment I knew why I was here.
“On your feet, Kitt!” He prodded me with a pistol.
Whose voice? Still muffled. Memories drifted back to me. Gabriel. The silver man. The silver car. The shot in my arm. This guy held me captive. In my mind I ran from him. In reality I lay frozen in place.
“On your feet, broad. I have a big night in store for us.”
I didn’t struggle and my limpness made it hard for him to haul me to my feet while clutching the pistol in one hand. I refused to stand, letting my body remain limp. He dropped me. My head hit the tile before he kicked me in the ribs and picked me up again. Broken ribs? I couldn’t tell. Pain radiated through my chest. Now he dropped me onto a bench and I slumped there, trying to get my bearings. Moonlight gleamed against the silver of his skin and leotard. Now his yachting hat was gone and moonlight glazed his bald head.
My mind churned. Bald head? Rex!
Rex planned to kill me.
Nausea washed over me. I gagged.
A man I respected, trusted, and considered my friend had betrayed me. Hella? Abra Barrie? Had Rex murdered both of them? Clearly, I would be his next victim. I had to escape. Had to warn Janell. My mind began to clear, but not enough.
My brain still balked.
I was still befuddled and in no position to defend myself, let alone warn anyone else of their danger.
“Make it easy on yourself,” Rex muttered through his mask. “Make it easy on both of us. Just obey orders. Do what I say. We’re going to have a wonderful time—at least I am.”
“Rex! What are you doing to me? Think about this.”
“I have thought about it. Been planning it for days, since the first day I met you.”
Now he wasn’t making sense. Rex had met me when I was a teenager. Maybe his mind had snapped. Maybe if I went along with his craziness, I could talk myself out of whatever plans he had for me. I remembered my cell phone in my fanny pack. Maybe I could pull it out and call help. Or maybe he’d grab it away from me and fling it into the pool. Keep him talking. Maybe I could keep him talking, reason with him.
“Rex, why don’t you drive us both to The Poinsettia? Let’s go back there and talk over our problems. You need to explain all this to me—and to Janell.” And the police, I thought. “At home you can tell us all what you’ve been thinking and what’s been bothering you.”
“Ha! I can tell you what I’ve been thinking right here and right now, but I’m tired of talking through this mask.”
I watched astounded and frozen with fright when Rex reached up and pulled off his mask. With it came his bald head.
Rex?
Silver gray hair shone in the moonlight and I stood facing Phud. He tossed the silver pistol aside, reached under his belt, and pulled out a machete. Relief that the man wasn’t Rex thudded with my realization that I again faced Phud.
“Come along with me, Kitt.”
Now he prodded me with the knife tip. Then he grabbed my hand and yanked me with him along cold damp corridors, through archways where snake-like vines clutched at me. I heard myself groaning until we left the fort and faced the hill outside.
“Go ahead of me now,” he ordered. “Move it!”
I stepped ahead of him, walking as slowly as I dared, and feeling the prick of his machete whenever he wanted me to move faster. While I was walking I fumbled with the zipper on my fannypack and pulled out my cell phone. He heard the zipper sound.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Nothing.” Before he could see what I was doing I managed to click the phone on and push the speed dial. Ace’s number. He had programmed it when he’d had the phone repaired. But once we reached the top of the hill, Phud stepped around me on the path and faced me head on. When he saw my phone, he grabbed it, tantalized me by holding it just out of my reach.
“Forget about calling help. I own the phone now. It’s mine. All mine.”
“Phud, listen to me. Forget your plans whatever they are. Take me down from here and I’ll make no trouble for you.”
“You women all use the same line. That’s what Abra said. That’s the same line Hella used. I thought maybe you could think of something more original.”
“You killed Abra Barrie and Hella?” I asked.
“Oh, yes. Those two and others. And nobody will ever guess. They’ll just be shocked that Kitt Morgan also has fallen to the hands of a murderer. Look around you, Kitt. Isn’t this a lovely spot to spend your last hour, your last minutes?”
I was looking around, trying to stall when I saw it—the tan box with yellow tape, the box he’d brought from the Winn Dixie the day I drove him to the Big Pine library. He hadn’t carried it up the hill with him just now. He must have planted it here earlier. I saw no way that I could get my phone away from him. I had to keep him talking.
“What’s in the box, Phud?”
“A surprise. Just for you, Kitt. Want to see?” He walked to the box and gave it a hard kick. It remained closed. He bent and slashed it open with the machete. “Take a look.”
I looked, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction of screaming. The box held a length of clothesline rope and two rolls of gray duct tape. I knew he’d planned this scene earlier, but my call to Rex from the Sugarloaf Inn had thwarted him—saved my life, for the moment.
I had to keep him talking. Ace might have his phone turned on. He told me that he kept it on most of the time so he wouldn’t miss calls from customers wanting shrimp, or workers who might want to hire on for a run with him. Ace might hear this conversation between Phud and me.
But he’d have no idea of where we were. Once I tried to make an obvious statement, Phud would guess my intent and destroy the phone. As it was, he might remain satisfied to tantalize me with it, to hold it just out of my reach.
“Yes, Phud, you’re right. This’s a wonderful spot. The moonlight. The sea.” I wanted to say ‘the gazebo’, but that might be a giveaway word that would alert him to danger. I was even afraid to say the word ‘hill’ because there were so few hills in Key West, that ‘hill’, too, might be a giveaway.
“How many women have you murdered, Phud?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Just curious. How many?”
“You’ll make number ten.”
“All in Florida?”
He laughed. “No I get around quite a bit. Two in Georgia. One in Alabama.”
“And nobody has ever suspected you?”
“Of course not. The image I’ve built for myself is too respectable.”
“Why do you do it? Why? Did you hate these women? Did I do something to make you hate me?”
“I kill women because it gives me indescribable pleasure to kill. I have special rituals I perform before a victim’s death, and an extra-special one I perform after each death. That final one gives me more pleasure than you can imagine. I remember that pleasure a long time. But when it wanes, I begin looking for my next victim. But don’t think abou
t that, Kitt. Enjoy your last minutes. Look at the beauty all around you.”
I had an idea that might work! Although Phud had his knife at the ready in his right hand, I walked in front of him, stopping at the tree beside the gazebo. I didn’t care if he saw my knees shaking. It would be normal for a woman to be afraid under such conditions, wouldn’t it? And what did it matter if he caught onto my plan? He’d marked me for death sooner or later. I might be hoping in vain that it would be later.
“You’re a plant expert, Phud. Tell me about this tree. It’s so crooked and gnarled, it looks as if it’s been here a thousand years. Ironwood, right?” I waited, hoping his plant expert ego would prompt him to say the true tree name.
And he stepped into my feeble trap.
“Lignum Vitae is the proper name. That’s what professionals call it. Lignum Vitae. Only amateurs call it Ironwood.”
“Lignum Vitae.” I repeated the words as if I had trouble saying them or remembering them. “Lignum Vitae.” Did I dare say it another time? No I wouldn’t take that chance.
Phud approached me now with his right arm pulled high over his right shoulder, ready to plunge the blade into my heart.
“Phud, did you know I’d killed a man?”
“You? You’ve got to be kidding!”
“It’s the truth and I’m not bragging about it.”
Phud lowered his arm. “The guy’s death gave you no pleasure?”
“That’s right. None at all. I’ll never get over the fact that I took someone else’s life. It’s made me rethink my career choice. It’s something I’ll carry with me the rest of my life.”
“The rest of your life is going to be very short, Kitt. And I’m a killer in control. I’m the person who’ll decide your fate. I’ve already decided where. Now I’ll decide when. But I want to hear more of your story.”
“How did you happen to kill a man?”
“I want a promise from you.”
“You’re in no position to be asking for promises.”
“You’re in no position to ask me to tell you about the most horrible time in my life. I don’t want my family to know how hard it is for me to think about the experience.”
Phud shrugged. “I want to hear your story. Every minute you talk on the subject will delay your death. That’s what you want, isn’t it? So talk. Did killing the guy give you a buzz? The big O?”
I talked. I hated the subject matter, but maybe Rasty Raymore could save my life. “In Iowa I was a cop, a cop on a small town police force. And one night I shot a man.” I recounted the whole story of the snowy night, the pet shop, the drug bust. I elaborated on every small detail, making the tale last as long as possible. I talked until I was so hoarse I didn’t think I could say another word. I felt all strength and will leaving me.
“So what’s the big deal?” Phud tapped his knife against his thigh. “You shot in self defense.”
“Right. Society says, ‘You’re a cop. Handle it, but don’t change.’ Cops can’t be wimps. It’s an impossible job—not changing. I’m barely handling it and I know I’ve changed.”
I saw the police climbing the hill to the gazebo, saw Ace behind them, before Phud saw or heard them. They were making some noise, but it was almost as if my story had mesmerized them. I looked toward the sea, trying to get Phud’s gaze to follow mine.
And for a few moments it did. And in those minutes the police took over the scene.
Chapter 33
Ace rushed to me, kissing me and burying his face in my hair. I clung to him until Janell and Rex joined us, standing to one side of Ace. I reached for Janell’s hand, gripping it so tight that my ring cut into my fingers. By that time the police had disarmed Phud, arrested him, and handcuffed him, arms behind his back. Nobody spoke until Phud tried to jerk away from the police. An officer retaliated by holding him in pace while another officer locked shackles around his ankles.
“You can’t arrest me!” Phud shouted. “Nobody read me my rights. You’re not blaming anything on me. Nothing. This woman asked me to bring her here to enjoy the view of the sea. She’s the one. She’s been flirting with me all week. She’s the one who’s caused all this trouble. Don’t know who called you guys onto the scene. It’s not my fault. None of it.”
“We have your confession, Dr. Ashby.” Detective Lyon tapped my cell phone that he had taken from Phud. “Ace Brewster called us the minute he answered his cell and heard Miss Morgan’s voice. You saved us a lot of trouble by confessing to Hella Flusher’s and Abra Barrie’s murders.”
“Thank God you arrived in time to save Kitt,” Janell said to Detective Lyon. “And who knows how many other women you may have saved in the future!”
“I confessed to nothing,” Phud said. “Nothing. You’re trying to trap me and you won’t get by with it. Nobody read me my rights. That’s a law!”
“Come with us,” Detective Lyon ordered.
“No!” Phud shouted as if he could stop them. “Where are you taking me?”
“We have a holding cell for you, Dr. Ashby. It may be holding you for a long time.”
Although he stood handcuffed and shackled, Phud cast a murderous gaze on each of us.
I winked at him.
With a great crashing in the hillside thicket, the officers took Phud away. Who was that man? University professor emeritus? Respected lecturer? Much read newspaper columnist? Serial murderer? The sociopath next door? I shuddered.
“Miss Morgan,” Lyon said. “Please wait and we’ll send a car for you. We’ll want to see you at headquarters.”
“If it’s all right, I’ll drive her to headquarters,” Ace said, along with Janell and Rex. “We all drove here together.”
“Fine,” Lyon said. “We’ll need to ask you all some questions.”
We all groaned at the thought of more questions. But we got in Ace’s car and rode to headquarters. I guess it was because the police had Phud’s confession that their questions didn’t take as long as they had taken this afternoon. By the time they had finished questioning us, I had calmed down from the horrors of the evening. For the first time since arriving in Key West, I felt safe. Detective Lyon drove Rex and Janell home, but Ace invited me to ride with him and I accepted.
“Wish you didn’t have to go back to Iowa so soon.” Ace drove beside the sea to the White Street Pier, easing his car into a slot at the park across the street.
“I wish I could stay longer, too. But I have to get back.”
“Feel like taking a short walk on the pier?” He looked at the sky. “I can promise you an endless sea and a full moon.”
“It can’t get much better than that.” He took my arm and I welcomed his touch, his support. Waves crashed on the rocks beside us, and we walked to the end of the pier where Ace led us to a bench overlooking the water.
“Why are you so determined to get back to Iowa, Kitt? You need a few more days to unwind and enjoy our island. You sure you have to hurry back?”
For a few moments I didn’t reply, then as he drew me closer to him, I started to tell him about my job—all the details. He stopped me.
“I heard the life-saving litany you told to Phud. You are indeed a brave woman, Kitt Morgan.” He held me tenderly. When his lips found mine, we shared a long and passionate kiss.
“Stay here, Kitt. Turn in your resignation to the Iowa PD. You can find a job in Key West, an apartment, a…”
“No. I must go back. I’m no quitter. I’ll return and face whatever I have to face.”
“For a while, maybe.” Ace kissed me again. “But perhaps not forever.”
“You might want to come to Iowa for a visit, Ace. After all, it’s your home state, too.”
“You might be able to talk me into that.” Ace stood and pulled me to my feet. “There’s a special place there I’d like to see again. Maybe you’d like to go there with me.”
“Where is that?”
“It’s called a Field of Dreams. Perhaps it could be our Field of Dreams.”
“L
et’s call it a plan, Ace. A plan to look forward to.”
Killer in Control Page 24