The Opposite of Dark chm-1

by Debra Purdy Kong

  “Excuse me,” she said, and smiled. “I’m writing an article about promising high school athletes, and I was wondering if you could tell me the name of the tall guy who just won that last race.”

  “Speed’s about all the dork’s got going for him,” a girl answered.

  Her friends laughed.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Is he your school’s fastest runner?”

  “One of them,” another girl replied, “but Karl hasn’t got what it takes to become a world-class anything.”

  “Karl who?”

  “Karl P. Hawthorne,” the girl said. “Or K.P., as he likes to be called. Anyhow, you should talk to Allen and Jason. They’re our best sprinters. Karl only does eight and fifteen hundred meters.”

  “Thanks.”

  Stan would be happy. She should be, too, but Lou was fighting for his life and it seemed Mother had killed Gustaf Osterman. Worse, Darcy was lurking out there, willing to murder people for three million bucks. Regret, fear, and anger trampled on any good feeling she’d started to have.

  Twenty-eight

  WHEN CASEY RETURNED from Van Tech at 1:00 PM, Rhonda wasn’t home. Just as well. She’d want to know what had happened at Mother’s, and Casey wasn’t looking forward to answering. Still, she supposed Rhonda should know. But first, Stan needed to hear about Karl P. Hawthorne. She dialed his number.

  Stan listened, then said, “I should reprimand you for working on an assignment I transferred to someone else, but I get why you did it. So write up what you saw and I’ll call VPD.”

  “No problem.”

  Casey glanced at her message machine. Strange that she still hadn’t heard from Lalonde about the evidence, unless he’d found Mother and Darcy and was busy interrogating them. She heard Rhonda’s station wagon pull up to the house. Casey went downstairs and into the kitchen.

  “Damn it!” Rhonda slammed the fridge door. “Forgot the bloody milk!”

  She forgot all the time, but usually didn’t get this angry. “What’s wrong?” Casey asked. “Besides the milk?”

  Rhonda let out a puff of air. “I went to see Mom. She’s trying to bully me and Summer into staying with her a few days.”

  “Not a bad idea.”

  “It damn well is. I’m not living under the same roof with that woman again.” She slumped into a chair. “Speaking of mothers, how’d it go at Lillian’s?”

  “She wasn’t there, so I went in.”

  “God, Casey, are you sure no one saw you?”

  “I was seen all right.”

  As Casey told her about Krueger, the cleaver, and the blue sequined dress, Rhonda’s bloodshot eyes didn’t blink. When she’d finished her story she waited for Rhonda to say something, but she just sat there staring.

  “Poor Lillian,” she said finally.

  “That’s it? That’s all you can say?”

  “Not much more to say, except that she’s finally gone off the deep end.”

  “I learned something else.” Casey hesitated. “It turns out the murdered man wasn’t Dad but a guy named Gustaf Osterman. He worked for Theo Ziegler, too, which means he knew Mother and Darcy.”

  Rhonda frowned. “That can’t be. I talked to Marcus, remember? Did Lillian tell you that crap?”

  “The pathologist and the police verified her story.”

  “She probably paid them to.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Rhonda stood and leaned on the table. “The resemblance was perfect.”

  “Thanks to some careful surgery.”

  “Are you saying Lillian created a twin to upset me?”

  “No, Theo arranged it. He wanted Gustaf to find the three million and wait for business contacts to show up, people who could have generated millions more for Theo’s company.”

  Rhonda gripped the table as if to steady herself. She looked kind of dazed.

  “You okay?” Casey asked.

  “Yeah. Bit much to take in, that’s all.” She fetched her purse from the counter. “I’m going to get the milk. You need anything?”

  “Yeah, I need Darcy caught and Lou to survive.”

  Back in her apartment, Casey again checked for messages. Neither Barb nor Lalonde had called. She tried some yoga moves to ease the tension that stretched from shoulders to pelvis. But she knew the tension wouldn’t go away until questions were answered, arrests made, and the friggin’ money found. She couldn’t put off the search any further. It was the only way the vultures would leave her and those she loved alone.

  Dad had left her the notebook and a key to the house. Was the clue in the book or in the house? She’d already tried every hiding place she knew inside and out. She had to be missing something. Something in the design? She thought of the blueprints. Gislinde said Dad had planned to give them to her when he’d finished the place and supposedly forgot. But he’d died, and Gislinde, probably realizing Gustaf had taken over, was the one who’d forgotten about them. Had Dad inserted a clue in the prints? If Gustaf hadn’t told Gislinde about his search for the money, she wouldn’t have had a reason to show him the prints; prints she’d stored at her sister’s place.

  Casey scooped up the blueprints from her bedroom and then spread them over the kitchen table. Dad had loved creating hiding places. When she was little, he designed one in their medicine cabinet to keep drugs out of her reach. Could he have built a spot large enough to store three million bucks? Casey pored over the prints, room by room, until her intercom rang. She hoped it was Lalonde.

  “This is your mother. I need to see you.”

  Oh, crap. Had Mother seen her leave the building? Did she know the bloodstained dress was gone? No way was she ready for a confrontation. Then again, she never would be.

  “Are you alone?” Casey asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Be down in a minute.”

  She hid the prints and hurried downstairs, glad that Rhonda had gone to the store. The last thing she needed was her and Mother under the same roof.

  When she opened the front door, Mother made a weak attempt at a smile. They didn’t speak as Casey escorted her into her apartment.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Lillian surveyed the room. “I came to say goodbye. I’m leaving the country.”

  “Permanently?”

  “Do you care?”

  “Detective Lalonde will. I imagine he’s looking for you.”

  “Really? I was just approached by a Vancouver police officer who’s watching this place. I told him I’m your mother and am here on family business. He didn’t seem to care.”

  Casey sighed. Apparently a rookie on guard duty hadn’t yet been informed that Mother was a prime murder suspect.

  Lillian strolled toward the bay window. “I’m sure you don’t want to discuss us, but I do. Think of it as a last request.”

  Casey sat in the rocking chair and watched Mother.

  “Have I caused you so much pain that you still can’t talk about the past, Casey?”

  She rocked back and forth. “I’ve never felt I was important to you.” She couldn’t quite meet her mother’s eyes. “Now, well, you’re not someone I’d choose for a friend.”

  “That’s a shame,” her voice faltered, “because I’d choose you.”

  “I’m a hard friend to make. I ask for honesty and trust.”

  Lillian perched on the arm of the sofa. “I was honest with you the other day, wasn’t I? It’s the only meaningful gift I have.”

  Casey wasn’t sure she wanted this gift.

  “You’ve gone to a lot of trouble to understand the past,” Lillian continued. “You’re entitled to the whole truth.”

  “Speaking of which, have you been in touch with Darcy since late yesterday afternoon?”

  “No, and I’ve dumped that maniac.” Anger flashed across her face. “I’m sorry your friend was shot. Theo told me what happened.”

  Casey stopped rocking. “Did he also tell you
that Darcy murdered Dad and that I heard him practically admit it on tape?”

  Watching Mother’s complexion turn the color of chalk almost made Casey feel sorry for her. After she highlighted what she’d heard, Casey added, “And this is the piece of shit you chose for a lover?”

  “Darcy may have acted on Theo’s orders.”

  “Prove it.”

  Lillian removed a cigarette and lighter from her purse. “Theo had Gustaf take Marcus’s place only days after the murder. Doesn’t that imply premeditation?”

  It did.

  “Gustaf was a perfect likeness and too well rehearsed. They’d planned this a long time.” Her hand trembled as she lit the cigarette. “He looked and acted so much like Marcus, on the surface anyway. At first it was easy to pretend . . .” The sentence dissolved as she dragged on the cigarette.

  “And you went along with the charade.” Casey stood. “You’ve been playing Theo’s game for years.”

  “I didn’t know much about Theo’s shadier deals for a long time. Remember, I was just the courier, the delivery person. Eventually, I learned more and wanted to leave, but he wouldn’t let me walk away.”

  “Uh-huh. Rhonda thinks you’d do or say anything to protect yourself.”

  “Rhonda’s not fit to judge me!”

  Casey wouldn’t let the anger faze her. “You’ve been playing games yourself, and a really cruel one with Rhonda.”

  Lillian’s appraising look lasted a long time. “Rhonda’s hung onto you all these years by making you feel sorry for her. When did you decide to compensate her for my mistakes?”

  “Compensate?”

  “By becoming the daughter she always wanted, until Summer came along, anyway. Rhonda latched onto your kindness, then brainwashed you.” As she took another drag on her cigarette, Lillian’s hands shook harder. “She’s been holding you emotional hostage ever since.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “The truth,” Lillian replied, her voice rising, “is that Rhonda fell in love with Marcus years ago and never stopped trying to drive a wedge between him and me.”

  “You’re the one who had the affairs, Mother.”

  “And Rhonda couldn’t wait to tell Marcus about them, but he knew she was trying to break us up. She was so smug and self-righteous from her perch until I forced her into the muck by seducing her husband.”

  “That was disgusting.”

  “And a mistake. It made destroying my marriage so much easier for her.”

  “You expect me to believe that?”

  “Do you think Rhonda wanted you to know that she planned to ruin my life? She’s been terrified of the truth for years, Casey. And the truth is she’d been obsessed with Marcus since you were a toddler.”

  Memories of conversations began to surface: arguments between her mother and Rhonda; Mother warning Rhonda to keep her mouth shut; Rhonda threatening to ruin her.

  “Did Rhonda actually tell you she was in love with Dad back then?”

  “No, but I could see it in her face.”

  Casey didn’t try to hide her contempt. “Why is it that when the conversation turns to men, you sound like a paranoid nut?” She returned Mother’s scowl. “Dad fell in love with her by choice.”

  “Rhonda didn’t hang around me all those years without learning a thing or two about manipulation through emotional blackmail. She worked Marcus well; wore him down until he gave in.” Lillian blew a cloud of smoke into the air. “In some ways she was good for him. But once he met Gislinde, how long do you think his interest in Rhonda lasted?”

  Casey turned away. She didn’t want to go down this road anymore.

  “Rhonda did a marvellous job of keeping you ignorant. Offering you shelter when you were most vulnerable was especially effective.” Lillian stood. “It’s time you saw things for what they are, not for what you want them to be or were conditioned to believe.”

  “What I see is two middle-aged women stuck on old issues. You can’t let go of Rhonda any more than you could Dad.”

  Casey also saw a woman who’d spent so much time with people like Theo and Darcy that she would stoop to murder to get what she wanted. The woman had become one scary stranger.

  “If I have trouble letting go,” Lillian said, “it’s because Rhonda has you and that is so wrong.”

  “I live my own life, Mother.”

  “How’s that possible when you live under her roof?”

  “Staying here is only temporary.”

  “You call two years temporary?”

  “I call it none of your business.”

  “You play the victim role too well, Casey. Marcus’s death and your husband’s infidelity made you weak. You wound up relying on anti-depressants and shrinks and Rhonda. That is not what I wanted for you. You should have lived more selfishly, my darling.”

  “Like you?”

  “Listen to me.” Lillian stepped closer. “I don’t want you to be controled or influenced by anyone, and I don’t want you to break down every time you suffer a major loss. Since we might not meet again, this is really what I wanted to tell you.”

  Casey smelled her mother’s lavender scent and moved away. “Was your desire to say it here based on a need to hurt Rhonda again?”

  “She’s already hurt herself more than I ever could. It’s over. There’s no point in staying to watch the end. The idea has no appeal.”

  “What end?”

  The door opened.

  “The end of me and Lillian,” Rhonda said, entering the room.

  The hatred on Rhonda’s face shocked Casey. She retreated to the window seat.

  Ashes fell from Lillian’s cigarette as she glowered at Rhonda. “Still haven’t squashed those eavesdropping tendencies, I see.”

  Rhonda sauntered up to her. “Coming here was stupid, Lillian, which is why I’m happy you did, but if you were hoping to turn my daughter against me—”

  “Why is my daughter living in your house?”

  “Because she wants to.”

  No, Casey thought, not anymore.

  “It’s only fair,” Rhonda added, “since you took my husband from me.”

  “Do you think you’ll ever outgrow your jealousy?” Lillian asked.

  “What was I supposed to be jealous of? You whoring around at fourteen? Cheating on your husband repeatedly and intentionally destroying other people’s happiness? Leaving Casey alone downstairs while you screwed someone’s husband upstairs?”

  “You hated that I had Marcus. Admit it.”

  “Marcus only became appealing once he stopped martyring himself over a tramp like you. As for your pathetic attempts to be friends again, I always knew what you really wanted.” Rhonda’s eyes blazed. “I know your soul, Lillian. We were inseparable for years, right? All you wanted was to get Casey back in your life and make sure Marcus stayed out of mine.”

  Casey drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. She’d never heard so much venom coming from Rhonda. Had her forgiving attitude been an act? Or had the news about the dress set her off?

  “Luckily, we won’t have to put up with your garbage much longer,” Rhonda went on. “Casey found the clothes and weapon in your place and handed everything to the cops.”

  Casey inhaled sharply. Oh god, why was she saying this?

  The cigarette nearly dropped from Lillian’s hand as she turned to Casey. “What clothes?”

  Casey tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.

  “The shimmery little number you wore to kill Marcus,” Rhonda blurted. “Or Gustaf, I should say.”

  Casey shook her head. Why wouldn’t she keep her mouth shut? “Rhonda, let the police handle—”

  “Is that what you and Darcy do for fun now? Shoot and hack people to death?” Rhonda asked. “You need to find a better hobby, hon, ’cause that one really sucks.”

  Lillian’s puzzled expression vanished. “I didn’t kill anyone, hon. You did.”

  Rhonda glanced at Casey. “I told you she
was devious.” Her hands curled into fists. “You began setting me up the day you sent me the picture of Marcus.”

  “Why did you send the picture?” Casey asked.

  Lillian removed what looked like a compact from her purse. When she opened the lid Casey saw a mini-ashtray. “It was just part of the game. I had no idea Rhonda would completely unhinge.” Lillian mashed the cigarette butt in the tray, closed the lid, and dropped it in her purse.

  Rhonda laughed. “Smooth, Lillian, but let’s not forget darling Darcy. You planted him in my house, probably to fabricate evidence against me.” She began circling Lillian. “You sent the photo and wedding invitation, which you knew would make me confront Marcus. After all, his betrayal would make a great motive for murder. Now you want to plant suspicion in Casey’s head.”

  Lillian looked at Casey. “She’s lying. As I said before, coming here was Darcy’s idea. He thinks you have the money. Since he was here, though, I suggested he look around and see if he could find evidence against Rhonda.”

  “He didn’t find anything because there was nothing to find!” Rhonda shouted.

  “The tragic part,” Lillian said, “is that you butchered the wrong—”

  “When I heard your voice, I went downstairs and called Lalonde before I came in,” Rhonda interrupted. “He’s on his way.”

  “I’ll wait for him outside.” Lillian walked to the door.

  “If she’s so innocent,” Rhonda said, turning to Casey, “why’s she taking off the moment I mention cops?”

  As Lillian started to leave, Rhonda grabbed her arm and hauled her backward. “You’re not getting away that easy!”

  In an effort to break free, Lillian dropped her handbag. Rhonda held her arm with both hands.

  “Stop it!” Casey jumped up from the window seat. “Both of you!”

  Lillian kicked Rhonda in the shin and jerked her arm free. She grabbed Rhonda’s hair and pulled her head back. Rhonda collapsed onto her knees, wrapped her arms around Lillian’s legs and attempted to take her feet out from under her. Lillian hit Rhonda on the side of her head, knocking her over. Grabbing her bag, Lillian ran out of the apartment. Rhonda stumbled to the door, her eyes wild, hair twisted in all directions.

  “Don’t worry, she won’t get away.” Rhonda wiped her face with her sleeve. “The bitch will finally get what she deserves.”