Winter was watching Leigh’s and Cyn’s face as they listened, but neither gave anything away.
“Everything was going along fine until the casino manager and people above him felt the pressure. Albert said they were bringing in a professional to help out and he didn’t know who that was. Some mystery man from Europe. They already had a cold-blooded killer—this Tug guy—so we figured this other guy was gathering information. They asked White to supply someone to help the new guy, so White sent Beals in. I believed everything would work fine right up until the babysitter got shot, which nobody knew was going to happen. Beals was helping this new guy and keeping Albert informed, but this guy told Beals shit, and according to White, the guy killed him. Since I didn’t fully trust White, Cyn would double-check White’s information from Beals. She knew him from when he was a deputy, and she was sixteen, when he stopped her for reckless driving and she had weed on her. My daughter, never one to keep her legs together, fucked Beals to keep from getting in trouble, and from then on she’d meet him for a quickie every now and then. I found out about it when she was staying with me, but figured it wouldn’t hurt to see if she could help, pump Beals on the side to make sure White was staying honest. She agreed. Call it insurance. That was between me and Cyn, and I thought it best Leigh didn’t know.
“White didn’t know anything about the babysitter’s killing. Then Beals got killed, and White was freaked, but the money held him tight. That and a threat to tell Mulvane what he’d been doing for us. They’d have killed him for that and he knew it. I tried to get Mulvane on tape admitting to having Sherry killed, but he took the tape. Hell, he was probably recording me. If they were willing to kill Sherry Adams—and I know that Leigh was more likely the actual target—they’ll kill me. Maybe White is playing both sides. I can’t trust anybody, especially based on Brad’s actions, and what Leigh’s been telling him. Now Mulvane’s guys have Cynthia and if little Miss Barnett isn’t killed, she’ll back Leigh up. I sure as hell don’t trust those two. Leigh’s been talking to Barnett and his buddy and lying to me about what she’s telling them sure as I’m sweating. I certainly don’t believe she’s just playing them to see what they know and what they’re up to like she said. She’s one conniving bitch, so I’m making this to cover my own ass.”
Winter stopped the tape recorder.
“It’s all lies. He was jealous of Brad because he knew I loved him. He knew Cyn wasn’t his daughter, that I was pregnant with Brad’s child when we got married. Can’t you see? I love Brad. I’ve always loved him.”
“Jacob was a total loser,” Cyn added, her voice rising to a petulant whine. “He ruined everything he could get his hands on. He was a totally selfish asshole. If he’d had his way, the plantation would have been lost, along with everything our family has held on to. He’s lying about everything. My mother is totally innocent.”
Winter waited until she finished speaking.
“Say I’m willing to believe that you do love Brad, Leigh. That doesn’t change the fact that you and Cynthia, to some extent, are directly or indirectly responsible for every death that is connected with this.”
“Even if Jacob were telling the truth, nobody could have foreseen that anybody would be harmed,” Leigh said. “And I can’t believe you are playing this in front of Cynthia. It’s too cruel for words. She was a victim of that Beals creature. He raped her. She was a child.”
Winter decided to blend Leigh’s claim with the truth he suspected. “I have her cell phone records and Beals’s too. The text messages they traded are very interesting. Cynthia may have been initially victimized by Beals, but she didn’t report the assault, and she kept right on meeting him until very recently. Cyn’s car was in that barn when it blew up.”
“I lied about where I got kidnapped, but not by who. I didn’t know that man.”
Winter pounced. “You drove out there.”
She nodded slowly, chewing her fingernail.
“Should I get the call record so you can see it and refresh your memory?”
“Yeah, I got a message to meet Jack, but he wasn’t there and that man you shot kidnapped me.”
Winter picked up the recorder and fast-forwarded to one of the numbers he had filed in his memory. He had doubted there would be any reason to play the tape in its entirety, and it was best they didn’t know everything that was on the tape. The secretly recorded conversation began with Jacob’s voice.
“This is out of control. Brad and Massey grilled me like a criminal. I don’t give a shit what you say, they know things they had to have gotten from you, Leigh. They aren’t getting it from talking to Albert White. If you think I’m going to take the blame for this pile of shit while you walk away rich, you’re fucking nuts.”
Leigh’s voice said, “Hold yourself together, Jacob. Cynthia is going to be all right as soon as we do the deal. Why would I be telling them anything that would threaten you? It’s paranoia. Brad and Massey are just fishing. Ignore it. Just keep your shit together, your mouth shut, and we’ll be out clean with a lot of money. Don’t forget who it was turned the couple of hundred grand you would have settled for into millions.”
Jacob said, “People have died. More could.”
Leigh came back. “You think I don’t know that? We’re going to have to live with Sherry’s blood on our hands.” Leigh was crying. “It was that Mulvane who did that. You do what you’re told or you will go to jail.”
There was the sound of Jacob hitting Leigh, and of Hamp running in and calling Jacob a bastard.
Winter clicked off the machine.
Cynthia said, “Tell him, Mother. I didn’t have anything to do with any of it. Jack raped me when he was a cop and I was a minor. Just because I had a joint on me when he stopped me. I had just turned sixteen. And he made me keep seeing him. I never wanted to, but Daddy told me to see him again or he’d turn Jack in for statutory rape and make sure everyone knew it was me.”
Leigh sat up straighter and her expression was one of total resignation. “Billy, are you representing me here?”
“Yes.” Billy nodded. “Winter played the tape for me. You have already hired me, so yes, technically you are my client.”
“This is just a copy of the tape,” Winter told her. “The original is in a safe place.”
Leigh asked, “Winter, are you acting in any official capacity as a representative of any police agency here?”
“No,” Winter said. “I resigned my commission, so at this moment I am acting on my own behalf.”
“I don’t want Cynthia involved with this,” Leigh said. “It’s all on me, okay? She is a victim.”
“See?” Cynthia said. “I was only accidentally involved. I’ve been at school.”
“Some. But I bet you’ve been in town a lot lately,” Winter said, guessing. “Okay, get out.”
Cynthia grabbed her purse and went to the door.
“Wait for me in the reception area,” Leigh ordered. Cynthia smiled weakly at her mother before leaving the room.
132
“I WON’T MAKE EXCUSES FOR MYSELF,” LEIGH SAID. “I am guilty of what Jacob accuses me of. It started off as one thing and turned into a nightmare. Cynthia is the way she is because I raised her to be able to take my place, the same way my father raised me. Weakness is for those who can afford it, and we’ve hung on when few others in our business have. She is strong-willed and, yes, even manipulative. That is what is required of a woman in a man’s world. Jacob’s attitude toward her was always cold because he knew Cynthia was Brad’s child…” Her voice trailed off. “I truly did love Sherry and saw her as a member of my family, and…poor dear Estelle…and Bradley…and Dr. Barnett. All the others…I deserve any punishment I receive and I will accept any blame.”
“Leigh, only you know the full extent of what you’ve actually done, and precisely what you are or aren’t guilty of,” Winter said. “You used Brad, Alexa, and me, and we never suspected it. Despite her voluntary participation, Cynthia was in real danger
of being killed because you and Jacob involved her. She has problems that probably aren’t going to get any better. People are dead, lives are destroyed. You put Hampton’s life at risk. As far as I can tell, he’s the only one around here that is salvageable. And I want him to be saved.”
Leigh interrupted, “Some good did come of it. You killed that monster who killed Sherry and Dr. Barnett. He would have killed my children. I knew I should have come clean, and I really wanted to, but I couldn’t without admitting what I had done. And Brad…”
“There’s one last thing,” Winter said. He lifted the recorder, fast-forwarded it until he found the corresponding number, and snapped the PLAY button. Winter watched Leigh’s face as Jacob’s recorder played his confrontation with Winter, Brad, and Alexa outside the house. The tape was rolling when Jacob drove away. There were two minutes filled with the mad rantings of a man driven by terror as he barreled down the county road. The sound of a horn honking was followed by Jacob cursing, “Pass me if you can, you prick!”
The engine roared as Jacob pressed down on the accelerator, laughing and cursing, unaware that the recorder in his coat pocket was collecting the sounds of the car’s interior. “Jesus,” he cried out. “Jesus Christ, you’re going to kill us both, you idiot. Pizza face! Wait!”
There was a pop, which was the window glass shattering, some bumping, and a final smacking sound.
“Who shot him?” Leigh asked. “Pizza face?”
Winter shrugged. “Tug Murphy. Alexa checked your home phone records. You called White an hour before Jacob hit you and left the house. All it took was you telling White that Jacob was going to break. And now of course White and Tug are both dead.”
“Jacob believed that Mulvane had Cyn. I knew they wouldn’t hurt her if they got the land. I should have admitted everything then, but I knew Cyn would have been killed if Jacob had screwed things up—and he would have. He’d have told you and Brad everything and you could not have saved my daughter. Jacob didn’t care about her. That’s why I called Albert White.”
Leigh’s face slackened and her eyes showed fear. “This will destroy Brad. And Hamp…Tell me what you want me to do.”
Winter stared at her, reading her truthfulness as best he could.
“What if Brad doesn’t need to know? He would have to charge you with conspiracy or depraved indifference or whatever the law allows for crimes like yours. I expect he’d quit his job first to let others handle that, and it would absolutely destroy him. I don’t think he could live, knowing you were responsible for his father’s death and all of the rest of it. Brad is a very good man. I am going to believe that you really do love him. Maybe you just think you do so you can feel better about yourself. It doesn’t have to matter.”
“I have loved Brad for most of my life. I intend to spend the rest of my life making myself worthy of him. Brad and my children are all that matters.”
“If you’re truly sorry about what happened, like you say you are, you can prove it easily enough.”
“How?” Leigh asked him, hope in her eyes.
“Get rid of the money.” Winter took a sheet of paper out of his pocket and opened it. “Here’s a list of the dead and injured, with contributions you can make to each. I’m guessing on your tax liability, but whatever is left over will go to scholarships for underprivileged kids in Sherry Adams’s name. You do that and I’ll make sure nobody outside this room ever hears this tape. If you aren’t being honest about Brad and those feelings, he’ll know it soon enough. If you are, it’s maybe his only shot at happiness. Maybe Brad’s influence can be a counterbalance to what you and Jacob have done to Cyn. You agree to this, Billy has agreed to draw up the papers and handle the financial transfers. Him, I know I can trust. That’s between you and Cynthia, but you’ll do it.”
Leigh nodded slowly. “I’ll do it.”
“I hoped you would see what a good idea it was,” Winter said, checking his watch. He stood slowly, knowing his face was reflecting the pain he was feeling. “Truth is, there’s a lot worse people than you and your daughter. I think that you’re more conniving than evil, but you sure did a lot of evil.”
“I didn’t think anybody would be killed,” Leigh said weakly. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“But they were. If I thought you hadn’t just lost control of this mess, I’d make it my personal mission to see you go to jail. Maybe Brad will help heal you. Leigh, I wish you redemption. I really do,” Winter said, lifting his crutches and placing the tape recorder into his pocket. “Billy will let me know when the papers are signed and the money is distributed.”
“You won’t be sorry,” Leigh said, wiping her tears away.
“If I am, you will be even sorrier. This will all be in a safe place. Now I have a plane to catch. Just remember that I will be watching.”
When Winter passed through the reception area, Cynthia kept her eyes on the open magazine in her lap, which was more than all right with Winter. He might regret not handing the evidence to the prosecutor in Tunica County, but he prayed that wouldn’t be the case. He had never thought he could let the guilty walk away clean, but he also never imagined he could blow a man’s brains out believing that man was unarmed.
He crutch-walked out into the bright crisp Tennessee air, slid into the back of the waiting taxi, and closed the door.
“Airport,” he said, leaning back.
After being in the same room with Leigh and Cynthia Gardner, he wanted to take a stiff brush and scrub his skin with disinfectant. He had decided that Paulus Styer would be the last man he would ever kill. Winter Massey knew that going home to the people he loved was the only thing that could make him feel whole again.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
JOHN RAMSEY MILLER’s career has included stints as a visual artist, advertising copy writer, and journalist. He is the author of the nationally bestselling The Last Family, Too Far Gone, and three other Winter Massey thrillers: Inside Out, Upside Down, and Side by Side, and is at work on his next book.
A native son of Mississippi, he now lives in North Carolina with his wife, and writes full-time.
If you enjoyed John Ramsey Miller’s exciting
new crime novel, Smoke & Mirrors, you
won’t want to miss any of his
bestselling thrillers.
Look for them at your favorite booksellers.
And read on for an exciting early look at the
next electrifying stand-alone thriller,
THE LAST DAY
coming soon from Dell Books.
The First Day
OUTSIDE CONCORD, NORTH CAROLINA THE THIRD SUNDAY IN AUGUST
1
SITTING CROSS-LEGGED ON THE COOL CLAY FLOOR, the watcher used the tip of his knife to carve another letter into the wall of his hide. After he inspected the letter—an O—he ran the sharpening stone against the edge, holstered the knife, and set it down gently by his side.
The midday Sunday sun cooked the still, warm air outside the hole. He looked out at the rear of a modern house through a four-inch-tall opening where the trap door was propped up. The large windows reminded him of watching fish in an aquarium. The house’s two occupants—a man and his wife—moved from room to room like slow-swimming trout. Rarely were the residents together for more than a few minutes. Their conversations were short ones, and the obvious emotional distance between the husband and his wife gave the watcher great pleasure.
The sound of a motor’s purr caught the man’s attention, and he looked up in time to see the doctor’s Lexus coming around the house as the garage door opened. He felt a rapidly growing sense of arousal as he watched the SUV roll slowly into its bay, the door sliding back into place. The woman was not perfect but nevertheless a beautiful and desirable creature.
The watcher switched off the iPod, opened his rucksack, drew out a jar, and held it so the sunlight illuminated the six large dark-shelled beetles he’d found under a rotten log that morning on his way to the hide. The bugs seemed content, creeping
like tanks over the bottom of the jar he had brought to urinate into while he was in the hide. The man knew from experience that the insects would walk around in circles, try to scale the walls, and climb over one another for the rest of their lives, constantly looking for a way out. He knew a great deal about captive behavior. While it was true that the bugs were docile, he had experience with many other creatures whose demeanor seemed fixed…until outside forces intervened.
Taking out a drinking straw, the man opened the jar and set the lid aside. He used the end of the straw to jab at the insects, prodding each once or twice before going to the next. After a few seconds, a steady hissing sound, like a leaking tire, erupted from the jar’s inhabitants. He smiled, knowing that before long the beetles would attack one another and begin using their powerful jaws to dismantle their mates, leaving a heap of severed legs in the jar’s bottom. His grin widened as he likened the interior of the house on the next rise to the bottle of hissing insects.
2
DR. NATASHA MCCARTY EXAMINED THE ABDOMEN OF a four-year-old named Josh Wasserman whose appendix had ruptured early the previous evening. As usual, she’d done a first-class job on both the removal of the defective body part and the even spacing of the sutures. A bright bouquet of tulips stood centered in the window, and Mr. and Mrs. Wasserman sat quietly in chairs on the other side of the bed where the small child lay. Mrs. Wasserman, a small, round-faced woman who appeared to be about eight months pregnant, stared at the child as though he might vanish should she look away.
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