The Lies That Bind

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The Lies That Bind Page 24

by Kate Carlisle


  The Sunday afternoon soiree had been Naomi’s idea and it was a good one. The time of day suited the large gallery space to perfection. Sunshine poured in through the wide skylight, casting crystalline shards of color and light over the crowd. And instead of the usual black-clad bodies, many of the women were dressed in jewel tones and even in a few pastels. It made for a lovely, bright palette and lent a lightness and joie de vivre to the normally dour, artsy crowd.

  I waved to a few acquaintances and caught snippets of conversation as I made my way across the crowded room. Art, books, music, films, the weather, the environment, climate change, the latest scandal erupting at City Hall. One conversation faded into another until I reached my destination. The bar. Naturally. Where else would I be going?

  I cast a glance at the short but impressive wine list, then decided to live dangerously and ordered the party’s signature drink, the TNT. It stood for Tart ’n’ Twisted. Nice that they got that “twisted” thing in there.

  I took a sip and found that it was, in essence, an ice-cold vodka gimlet, one of my favorite drinks. They served it in a martini glass with an extra slice of lime. Very refreshing.

  Not that I was nervous, but I downed that drink in two gulps and ordered another. I planned to nurse the second one for the next hour or so, though I was sorely tempted to get tanked up and pass out on one of the office couches. Derek would wake me up when it was over and we could drive off into the sunset.

  But as I turned from the bar, I spotted Alice on the opposite side of the room and knew what I had to do. She was tight in conversation with Cynthia Hardesty. It was an interesting pairing. I wondered what nonsense Alice was filling the board member’s ears with. Perhaps they were bonding over their shared concerns about Naomi. If Alice weren’t unmasked today, would she try to implicate Naomi in Layla’s death? Or worse, would she eventually kill Naomi, too?

  Why not? She’d already killed two people in her quest to take over Layla’s book-fraud ring. The more power she got hold of, the easier it would be to knock off anyone who stood in her way of gaining total control.

  Watching Alice from my vantage point, I felt a shiver of anticipation trill across my shoulders. Today was the day that power grab would end. Today, we would take her down.

  My thoughts drifted to Gabriel, who at this moment was sneaking in through the back door of the building with Derek. I imagined Inspectors Lee and Jaglom had met them back there, as well. I hoped so. I hoped they’d brought a full battalion with them. My worry was that however many cops made up a battalion, that might not be enough to protect Gabriel from Alice’s malevolence.

  Gabriel was my main concern. He was still so weak. Seeing Alice now and knowing what she was capable of, I knew Gabriel would be no match for her if he couldn’t harness his inner forces to make up for his lack of outer strength.

  I skirted the lower gallery and made a show of studying each item in the silent auction. I wrote my name and the amount of my bid on a few of them. I particularly coveted a leather-handled set of Jeff Peachey knives. The brilliant bookbinder and craftsman had created a set of cryogenic steel-bladed knives that were hand-honed to surgical precision and beautifully beveled to work with the thinnest calfskin.

  I sighed. Even in the midst of danger, I could geek it up with the best of them.

  “That’s a very nice bid,” Alice said behind me. She’d caught me off guard and my stomach dropped twenty feet.

  I turned and laughed, hoping I didn’t sound too hysterical. “Hey, you. These are some fabulous auction items.”

  She smiled. “I thought those tools might appeal to you.”

  “Peachey is a genius,” I murmured, nodding. Abruptly, I reminded myself I was here on a mission and shook myself out of my daydreams. “This party is a real hit, Alice. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “Much as I hate to admit it, Naomi gets most of the credit.”

  “That’s got to hurt.”

  We shared a laugh despite the wave of depression running through me. Alice and I could’ve been such great friends, if only she hadn’t turned out to be a stone-cold murdering bitch. I forced a smile back onto my face, knowing I needed to maintain illusions for a while longer.

  She leaned closer and said in a teasing tone, “So, where’s that hunky British dude who can’t stay away from you?”

  I tried to giggle along with her. “Derek should be here in a little while.”

  “He’s a lucky guy,” she assured me.

  “Aw, thank you.” I gritted my teeth and gave her a hug. “You’re so sweet.”

  Her gaze wandered off. I tried to follow it, homing in on Cynthia Hardesty as the board member grabbed another glass of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter.

  “I saw you talking to Cynthia earlier,” I said, lowering my voice. “What’s going on?”

  Alice continued to stare across the room, then finally looked up at me.“She wanted to talk about Naomi. She thinks Naomi killed Layla, but frankly I still have my doubts. Cynthia could be trying to deflect attention from the fact that she did it herself.”

  “I hate to say it,” I said, “but I’m not sure I can blame her after seeing how Tom reacted every time Layla walked into a room.”

  “I know,” Alice said, shaking her head. “He’s kind of disgusting. But can I confess something to you?”

  I blinked. “Okay.”

  “I’m not really sure about Karalee anymore, either. She’s been acting so weird lately, and I caught her in Layla’s office earlier today. I could swear she was about to steal something.”

  “You’re kidding.” I couldn’t take much more of this. I placed my empty glass on a nearby service tray. “Tell you what, I’ll keep an eye on her and let you know if I notice anything odd going on.”

  “Would you?” She gripped my arm. “Thank you. I hate to be so suspicious, but I can’t help it. Sometimes I work late at night and I’m so worried there will be another attack.”

  “You poor thing,” I said, patting her hand. “You must be under a lot of strain.” What with the unbridled murder and mayhem and all, I added silently.

  “Oh, don’t worry about me,” she said bravely. “I’ll be fine.”

  “I hope so.” And I hoped she’d get a lovely cell with a nice view of her neighbor, Big Beulah. “I’m going to run to the ladies’ room. Then maybe I’ll grab another one of those TNTs. Have you tried one yet?”

  “Just a taste. I figured I’d better stay sober.”

  “Too bad, because they rock. I’ll be back in a few.” I waved and headed for the bathroom. Once inside, I sagged against the door and exhaled in relief.

  I should’ve been exhausted, but my outrage energized me. The fact that she could keep up the pretense so easily made me realize we were dealing with a true sociopath. She was perfectly willing to implicate anyone-Cynthia, Naomi, Karalee, to name a few. I had to wonder if she’d brought my name up to the others as a possible suspect. It wouldn’t have surprised me.

  I used the facilities, then took another deep breath and walked out. The bathrooms were down the hall from the workroom where Gabriel and Alice had agreed to meet. I checked my watch. Less than ten minutes to go. I had to assume the good guys were in their places.

  The room they’d chosen was one of the individual workrooms BABA rented out to bookbinders and artists who needed space to work. Some rooms were used for individual studies and small group classes. I’d taught a few master classes with three or four students in these types of rooms and knew their design. They all had a small anteroom leading to the main workroom, with a closet off the anteroom.

  They would never know I was in there. I’d played my role out front, kept an eye on Alice for as long as I could stand it. Now I belonged back here.

  If Gabriel was already in there and saw me, that would be the end of it. But if I could sneak inside unnoticed, I would be able to hear everything and know that Alice was Layla’s killer. I would feel vindicated, and at the same time, no one would
have to know I was there. Derek wouldn’t worry and all would end well.

  Without further deliberation, I tiptoed farther down the hall to the workroom. The door opened without a sound and I crept inside. The room was empty.

  My heart pounding, I carefully opened the closet door and slipped inside. The small space was dark but not completely black, thank goodness. My eyes slowly adjusted and I could see the shelves above my head. I crouched in the corner and waited.

  Less than five minutes later, I heard the outer door open and shut quickly.

  Five minutes after that, it opened and shut again.

  “Hey, babe,” Gabriel said, his tone a casual drawl.

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Alice said, her voice huskier than usual. So even her voice was fraudulent? Unbelievable.

  “I’m digging the pixie look,” Gabriel said derisively. “What’s with the Alice in Wonderland charade?”

  “It’s working for me,” she said. “You’re looking a little pale. Feeling okay?”

  “I really appreciate your concern, considering it was your bullet that nailed me. Have a seat.”

  It was a smart move to get her to sit down. That was the only way Gabriel could get off his feet.

  “So, Mary Grace,” he said. “I was surprised to hear you’d moved into my world. You’re getting into books.”

  “It’s where the money is.”

  “So you’re finding it lucrative?”

  “I’m doing okay,” Alice demurred.

  “Come on, babe. I hear you’re making a killing.”

  “Oh, that’s a terrible pun,” Alice said, giggling.

  I shook my head in disbelief at the fact that she could admit to a pun about making a killing. It was practically a confession of murder as far as I was concerned. And I was still annoyed by the radical change in her voice from the way she’d talked to me. She really was diabolical.

  Gabriel asked her how she’d stumbled onto the book-fraud gig. Alice told him she’d been cooling her heels after a fine art con in Belgium went south, so she’d skipped over to San Francisco and put out feelers here. She caught a whiff of a rare-book scam going down and followed her nose to BABA. After a few months of careful planning and several efforts to prove her street cred, she finally came to the attention of Layla Fontaine.

  I wondered if committing murder was one way she’d proved her “street cred” to Layla. I made a mental note to ask Inspector Lee whether any recent unsolved murders might be connected to Layla’s ring of thieves.

  Alice went on to boast about how eagerly Layla had glommed onto her.The hotshot executive director had taken “young Alice” under her wing, bringing her into BABA to learn all about the business so Alice could be Layla’s partner in both the legitimate and criminal sides of the biz.

  “Sadly, familiarity breeds contempt,” Alice complained. “The more I got to know Layla, the more I realized I’d never be able to work with her long term. She was a pain in the butt.”

  Look who’s talking.

  “Not only was she a bad manager who desperately needed my expertise,” Alice said, “but she knew it. And yet, when I told her I wanted half the business, she wasn’t willing to pay the price.”

  “So she had to go,” Gabriel finished.

  “Yeah, she had to go. Now I’m in charge and things will be different around here.”

  “But how’re you going to keep the scam going, now that you’ve got the police sniffing around?”

  Alice laughed. “You let me worry about that, pretty boy.”

  I could imagine Gabriel’s hackles rising at that comment. But his voice was mild as he said, “Rumor has it your associates are dropping like flies. What’s that all about?”

  “Price of doing business in tough times.”

  “And what’s your racket?” he asked. “You playing the little schoolgirl, Mary Grace?”

  “Hey, I’ve got a good gig going on here,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “They think I’m as sweet as sugar pie. I’m all artsy-craftsy, making books and crap, and I’ve got a wonderful fiancé, too. Check this out.”

  “Nice bling,” Gabriel said, and I could picture Alice flashing her beautiful diamond ring in his face.

  “I like it,” she said, and laughed.

  “I assume the fiancé is as fake as that ring is real.”

  She simply laughed again.

  So there was no Stuart, and I had no doubt she’d stolen that beautiful ring from somewhere. What other lies had she told us? She probably had a perfectly fine digestive system. All those health issues were more figments of her fertile imagination. She’d sucked us in royally. For some reason, her lack of stomach problems burned me more than some of the other lies she’d told.

  I wondered why the police weren’t coming in to arrest her by now. Hadn’t she made it clear that she was the one who’d killed Layla and Mr. Soo. Did they need even more evidence?

  “Let’s cut to the chase, Mary Grace,” Gabriel said. “I want in. I know books a hell of a lot better than you do. I’ll play the middleman or the seller.”

  “It’s an interesting offer,” she said slowly.

  “It’s not an offer-it’s a done deal. And we split things fifty-fifty.”

  “What?” That was followed by a few expletives and I could hear her pushing chairs around. Guess she wasn’t happy with his offer.

  “Is there a problem?” Gabriel said.

  “Yeah, there’s a problem, you slug. I’ll give you twenty percent and you’ll like it. You’re in no position to make demands, Gabriel. I was there at the hospital after you were shot. I know you’re still weak.”

  “Not that weak, pixie. I can pin your ass to those murders, not to mention your little attempt to put a hole in my head. I don’t mind telling you, that just pissed me off. Fifty-fifty’s the bottom line or I call the cops.”

  The tension was growing palpable. Gabriel couldn’t have been happy knowing she’d been so bold that she’d come to the hospital after shooting him. If she was that bold, she would stoop to anything to protect her cut of the book ring profits.

  Now I was worried that Alice had her gun with her. I knew Derek was listening in and probably shared my worry. Was he rallying the police to get ready to charge? Maybe Gabriel had told them to wait until he’d riled her up enough to pull a gun on him. I was not happy about that possibility.

  I had no doubt that flying bullets could go through the plasterboard wall separating me from Alice’s gun. Nervously, I glanced around the dark closet. That’s when I noticed the stack of books perched dangerously on the shelf above me. They were set to fall right on my head at the slightest shake-up. If Alice started shooting, I wouldn’t have to worry about bullets. I’d be knocked out by flying books.

  With extreme care, I reached up and pushed the stack back from the edge so it wouldn’t tumble. A heavy sharpening stone lay on the top book and began to totter, then started to fall directly toward me. I reached to grab it but only managed to deflect it. It slammed against the wall and fell to the floor.

  “What the hell was that?” Alice sputtered.

  Seconds later, the closet door was yanked open and I stared into the flashing eyes of Alice Fairchild. Gabriel stood behind her, staring at me in horror.

  “Well, look who’s here,” she said, and turned to glare at Gabriel. “It’s your little friend. This your idea?”

  “I barely know her,” Gabriel said. He grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the closet. “What’re you doing in there?”

  By the time I brushed off my pants and Gabriel shoved me into the room, Alice had her gun out and pointed in my direction. Gabriel quickly stepped in front to protect me.

  “Still playing the hero, Gabriel?” she said with scorn, and jerked the gun toward the chairs lined up along the wall of windows. “Sit down, both of you.”

  We moved in that direction.

  “Put the gun down, Mary Grace,” Gabriel said. “Are you going to keep killing everyone who works her
e?”

  “If I have to.” She glared at me. “Brooklyn, what the hell were you doing in there?”

  “I came out of the bathroom and heard a noise down here. I came to check it out. Then you walked in and started talking. Book scams? Layla’s murder? What’s going on here, Alice?”

  “Shut up.” She paced in front of me. “I need to think.”

  I chose to take it as a good sign that she had to think before shooting. I stole a look at Gabriel. He stood leaning against the side counter with his arms folded tightly across his chest and his jaw clenched. He glowered at me and I couldn’t blame him. We both knew Derek was going crazy right now. I expected him to storm the room at any second.

  “Look, Alice,” I said, “I know the police inspector on this case. I can talk to her. You can plea bargain-”

  “Shut up, Brooklyn,” she said. “There’s no way I’m going to prison.”

  As she paced, a waft of incense flitted my way, jogging my memory. Incense was what Karalee said she had smelled the night Minka was attacked. Incense. I recalled a small can of patchouli-scented spray on the sink in the bathroom. Alice had haunted the bathroom constantly. She must’ve used the spray that night.

  The door burst open, but it wasn’t Derek or the police.

  It was Minka. “Is my coat in here?”

  Alice whipped around, her gun pointed directly at Minka.

  “Where the hell did Ned put our coats?” Minka asked, then noticed the gun. “What the fu-”

  “Minka!” I shouted. “Alice is the one who attacked you. She hit you with a hammer and left you for dead.”

  Alice turned around and shoved me. “I told you to shut the hell up.”

  “That was you?” Minka said, her eyes bulging.

  Alice whirled back at Minka, waving the gun. “You shut up, too! What’s with you bitches? Move over there and sit down. I need to think.”

  Minka gasped and repeated, “That was you?”

  “I said, get over there!” Alice jerked the gun in my direction, but Minka didn’t care. Bullheaded, she stomped right up and punched Alice in the face.

  “Ooh,” I said, cringing. I’d been on the receiving end of that left hook. Minka packed a wallop.

 

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