by Greg Iles
“You said you’d do that if I don’t do what you wanted me to do. Well? What do you want me to do?”
“Leave Lily alone. Get out of her head.”
“If I do that, what will you do for me?”
“Why should I do anything for you?”
Her hand went to her neck and twined another lock of hair around her finger. “Because you love me. But if you can’t face that yet, you should do it because I’m the only thing keeping you out of jail.”
Waters fought back his anger. “I do love you.”
Lily’s eyes softened.
“I just can’t let you destroy my wife. That’s why I want you to go into another woman.”
She watched him in silence, trying to work out his thoughts. “Who?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“But you pick this woman, you mean?”
“Yes.”
“Someone you like.”
“Whose face and body I like,” he said.
She stared at him for nearly a minute, her eyes growing dark with suspicion. “If I go into this other woman, you’ll kill her. That’s what you’re thinking.”
“You know me better than that. I couldn’t kill an innocent person.”
“If you thought you were saving your family, you might.”
“I’d kill myself, Lily, and Annelise, before I’d kill an innocent person.”
Morbid curiosity flickered in her eyes. “Why?”
“Because I’m responsible for this. For you being like you are. Lily and Annelise are part of me. They’re involved, even though they didn’t ask to be. The sins of the fathers and all that. But I can’t visit this karma on anyone else. If someone has to pay, it should be me and mine.”
She tilted her head, studying his eyes. “You know what, Johnny?”
“What?”
“Lily is too old, anyway. We’re going to have our own babies, and thirty-nine is too old for that.” She lifted the camisole, grabbed a dimple of cellulite from her upper thigh, and pulled. “Yuck. Pick someone under thirty, okay?”
Waters struggled to suppress his rage. “I don’t have any problem with that.”
She walked forward and took hold of his hand. “Just one more thing, Johnny. Pick her soon, okay?”
Lily smiled as though things had arrived at the exact point she’d chosen from the beginning. “Now, get those clothes off and get into bed. I want you to finish what you started this afternoon.”
He pulled his hand free. “That’s not part of the deal. First you move into someone else. Then I come to you.”
She laughed. “Who do you think makes the rules here? I agreed to your idea because of the childbearing issue. But don’t forget that you could be spending the night in jail. I know all this has you freaked out, but I want you, Johnny. Now. And I’m going to have you.”
Waters made no move toward the bed.
“Re-mem-ber,” she said in a singsong voice. “If Mama ain’t happy, no-body’s happy.” Lily walked to the dresser, opened a drawer, and brought out a shining pair of handcuffs.
“Those look like Eve’s,” he observed.
“Of course they are. Your wife doesn’t have anything like this hidden in her underwear drawer. Not even a vibrator.”
Lily pranced toward the bed, dangling the handcuffs as though to provoke him. “These were Eve’s, I should have said. Possession is nine-tenths of the law, right?” She laughed. “Isn’t that what they say, Johnny?”
Waters stared at the handcuffs, a shining little metaphor for his situation. He recalled Eve cuffing him to the bed at the Eola. Thinking of that made him think of Mallory, not as she was now, but when they were together. In those days, Mallory had bound him with scarves, not handcuffs. He saw himself tied to the headboard of her parents’ bed, wondering if Ben Candler and his wife would come home unexpectedly and discover their princess in flagrante delicto. When he thought of Ben Candler, he felt something shift deep in his mind, and he saw what Mallory had described earlier: the local politician who liked to take secret snapshots of little girls. In the dark glow of that image was born his next move in the emotional chess match he would have to play for possession of his life and family.
“Take that slutty rag off and get under the covers,” he said in a harsh voice.
Lily looked curiously at him, trying to read his intent. “You first,” she replied.
“I’ll join you in a second. I have to do something first.”
“Like what?”
“Just get in the bed. And turn off the lights.”
A wary look in her eyes now. “I want the lights on.”
“I can’t do it with the lights on. I can’t look into Lily’s face and make love to her when she’s not there.”
“I thought you’d like the idea.”
“I don’t. You can use your handcuffs or whatever kinky stuff you want. Just turn off the lights.”
“All right. But where are you going?”
“What are you worried about? I can’t hurt you without hurting Lily.”
Pouting with her lips but not her eyes, she went to the bed and slipped off the camisole, then climbed under the covers and switched off the lamp.
Waters walked to the door.
“Tell me where you’re going!”
“For God’s sake, just lie back and enjoy it.”
“I intend to.”
He walked quickly to the den. Inside the cabinet under the TV was the camcorder he had scolded Annelise for using without permission. It was a Sony PC-110, a handheld digital camera with more special-effects functions than he would ever use. But the PC-110 also had one capability that he had found both fun and useful. Called Super Night Shot, it allowed you to shoot video in total darkness, by projecting an infrared beam onto a subject. He and Annelise had used it to film Pebbles hunting in the backyard at night. Tonight he would use it to try to save his life.
He inserted a fresh tape into the slot, then removed the lens cap and switched on the camera. The Super Night Shot switch was on the side. He activated it, then turned off the lights in the den and looked through the viewfinder. A ghostly green image of the room filled the screen, the camera autofocusing wherever he turned it.
“Okay,” he said softly. “Let’s make a movie.”
He took off his shirt and wrapped it partly around the camera, but took care to leave the lens and the infrared beam generator exposed. On his way back to the bedroom, he stopped in the hall bathroom, dug under the sink for a minute, then continued on, the camera and shirt held carefully in his left hand. At the bedroom door, he walked quickly through the darkness to Lily’s low dresser and set his shirt on it, the camera lens facing the bed. Then he walked around to his side of the bed and began removing his pants.
The lamp on Lily’s side flashed on, temporarily blinding him.
“What did you do?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
She looked at his pants on the floor, then up at him. Then she leaned off the bed and lifted the pants to look under them.
“Looking for a gun?” he asked.
A white plastic bottle of K-Y Silk-E lubricant lay beneath the khakis.
“My mistake,” she said. She lay back on the bed and stared at his nude body. “You still look good, Johnny.”
“Get on all fours and handcuff yourself to the bedpost.”
“What are you going to do?” she asked, a mocking smile on her face.
“Teach you a lesson.” He reached over and switched off the lamp.
Her voice came out of the dark. “How are you going to do that?”
Waters climbed onto the bed, looked in the direction of the camera, and silently mouthed three words. I’m sorry, Lily. Then he faced forward, took hold of the familiar hips in front of him, and slapped one cheek. “You know what I like, Mallory,” he said.
He heard a metallic snick as the handcuffs snapped shut.
“Yes, I do,” came Mallory’s low voice. “And you know what I need.”
/> Waters set to work with a will.
chapter 16
When Waters walked into his office at nine the next morning, he found Penn Cage waiting behind his desk.
“You wouldn’t be here unless there was bad news.”
“It’s not catastrophic,” Penn said, “but it’s serious.”
“Tell me.”
“The police say they have a videotape of your Land Cruiser in front of the Eola Hotel one hour before Eve’s estimated time of death.”
The floor seemed to shudder beneath his feet. “That’s impossible.”
“Maybe not. They say there was a traffic accident at the intersection of Pearl and Franklin streets that night. A car hit an MP amp;L cherry-picker truck. Do you remember that?”
Waters tried to keep his facial muscles still. “Yes.”
“There were lots of squad cars there. Ambulances, a fire truck, and a sheriff’s department cruiser. For some reason, the sheriff’s car had his videocam running-the one they switch on during traffic stops. He was pointed the wrong way up Pearl Street, and the police say his camera recorded your Land Cruiser turning from Main onto Pearl, stopping, then backing onto Main again and disappearing. The tape is date-and time-stamped.”
“Shit. Do they have my license plate on tape?”
“I don’t know yet. But a Land Cruiser is a rare vehicle in this town, and they’ve asked that you give a DNA sample for testing.”
“Oh God.”
“Obviously they’ll want to compare this to the semen taken from Eve Sumner’s corpse.”
“And it will match.” Images of Parchman Prison filled Waters’s mind: endless rows of soybean fields and angry inmates, himself locked in a barred box. “The police called you?” he asked. “How did they know you were my lawyer?”
“Lily told them,” Penn replied. “Tom Jackson called her just as you left the house. She told him I was your lawyer, and that he should call me. I came straight here.”
“Lily didn’t know you were my lawyer.” Fresh fear poured into him.
“Obviously she did,” Penn said.
“She must have been following me.”
“Your wife?”
Not my wife, Waters thought, touching his back pocket, where the Mini-DV videotape he had shot last night rested. He had felt so confident about his plan, but now…
“Am I going to be arrested?”
“I don’t think so. Tom wanted to bring you downtown for questioning today, though.”
“Jesus.” Waters felt inevitability closing around him like a noose.
“I requested that he interview you at the law office of a friend of mine. Since you’ve cooperated so far, Tom agreed. That may not seem like much of a gift, but it’s a lot better than going through this in some interrogation room at the police station. It’s set for three this afternoon.”
“What about the DNA test? What should I do?”
“Comply immediately. That’s what an innocent man would do.”
“But I know my DNA will match.”
“That’s not the point right now. DNA testing takes a long time to complete. Months, sometimes. I’ve seen tests come back in three weeks with the FBI pushing, but this is a local case. By agreeing to the test, you buy yourself three to twelve weeks. Closer to twelve is my bet.”
Waters felt his breath returning. “I can’t be arrested, Penn. I have to stay free.”
“You will.”
“If I’m arrested, will I get bail?”
“Almost certainly. You’re a pillar of the community with no criminal record.”
“But it’s murder.”
“Take it easy, John.”
“What if they trip me up during questioning? What if they arrest me then?”
“I think that’s unlikely. Tom might ask you to take a lie-detector test, though.”
“I can’t do that!”
Penn held up both palms to reassure him. “You won’t have to. I’ll advise you against submitting to a polygraph, and I’ll do that in Tom’s presence. The refusal will look more like my decision than yours. The police here still see me as a big-city prosecutor, and that’s to your advantage right now.”
“He’ll ask me if I had an affair with Eve. What if I deny it, and they have a witness or something?”
Penn answered carefully. “I will never advise you to lie, John. I can’t do that. But I will say this: If, after today’s questioning, the police still believe that you weren’t having an affair with Ms. Sumner, I’d wait until the day before the DNA test was due back, and then I’d tell them the semen found in Eve was probably yours. You were having an extramarital affair with a woman of dubious sexual character, and she happened to get murdered. You knew that getting mixed up in that could destroy your marriage. As an innocent man, you hoped-and even assumed-that the guilty party would be caught before the DNA test came back, which might obviate the need for any ruckus to be made about whose semen it was. The odds of that would be low, considering the nature of this case, but a scared husband will tell himself many things. The police understand reasoning like that. Being guilty of an affair does not make you guilty of murder.”
Waters found it hard to concentrate on his lawyer’s words. He looked around his office as though for an avenue of escape.
“John? Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
“When do they want the DNA sample?”
“Adams County Path Lab is ready for us as soon as we can get there. I suggest we go immediately. There will be police representatives there. Probably Tom Jackson.”
A bubble of panic ballooned in Waters’s chest, cutting off his air. If he were arrested today, Mallory might abandon her intention to move out of Lily and into another woman, as she had agreed to do last night. He had to let her know what was happening.
“You look like you might faint, John. Sit down.”
“I need to use the bathroom.”
Waters hurried from his office, went to Sybil’s desk, and grabbed her cordless phone from its cradle. She looked up in surprise, and he put his forefinger over his lips. Then he slipped into the conference room and called Linton Hill.
“Waters residence,” Rose said.
“It’s John, Rose. I need to talk to Lily.”
“Lily gone swimming, Mr. John.”
“Okay, thanks.” He clicked off and dialed Lily’s cell phone. It rang five times, and then a recorded message told him “the subscriber” was either unavailable or out of the service area. Desperate now, he hung up and walked down the hall toward Cole’s office. Cole had said to come to him if he needed help, and Waters definitely needed it now. Cole might not believe his story about Mallory being in Lily, but at bottom, that didn’t really matter. Because Cole would do what Waters asked, even if he thought he was crazy. But when he opened the door, he found Cole’s office empty.
“He hasn’t come in today,” Sybil said from behind Waters. “I don’t know where he is.”
“Shit.”
Sybil looked genuinely worried, and not about Cole. “Is there something I can do to help you, John?”
“I wish you could, but no.” He squeezed her arm, then walked back to his office.
Penn was standing at the center of the room, examining a dragonfly trapped in amber and mounted on a black pedestal.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“A little. Penn, we have to talk, and I mean for real.”
The lawyer looked up, concern in his face. “What is it? Have you been holding something back?”
“In a way. Last night, Lily told me she was Mallory. She told me that.”
“What did she tell you? Exactly?”
“That the theory I put to you yesterday is true. That she moved from Eve, through me, into Lily.”
Penn rolled his eyes. “John, we’ve been over this.”
“Please try to listen with an open mind. Last night I secretly videotaped Lily and me in bed. She’s doing things on that tape she’s never done in her life.”
<
br /> “And you want to show this tape to me?”
“No, because you don’t have any frame of reference to judge it by. You don’t know what she was like before. I’m talking about kinky stuff, though. Bondage, handcuffs.”
Penn cleared his throat. “Handcuffs aren’t that kinky, John.”
“In Lily’s mind, handcuffs belong on felons, nowhere else.”
“As far as you know. Tell me what else happened.”
“Lily threatened Annelise’s life.”
Penn drew back, incredulous. “How?”
“She held a fucking butcher knife over her head!”
“Well…did Annelise see this?”
“No.”
“What else did Lily say to you?”
“Too much to remember. Penn, I know you think I’m psychotic, but it’s her. It’s Mallory! She told me she killed her father!”
“That’s crap. Ben Candler died of a heart attack.”
“Yes, but do you know what caused it? Remember you told me some people had told you Ben was a little strange? What word did you use? Pervy?”
“Pervy. Perverted.”
Waters quickly related Mallory’s tale of the secret photos and the gunpoint confrontation with her father. As Penn listened, his expression changed from skepticism to fascination.
“Jesus,” he said when Waters finished. “It’s hard to imagine Cole Smith making up that story. Maybe Danny Buckles, the child molester, did something like that, and Eve or Lily modified the story to use on you. We know Eve knew Buckles, because she warned you about his abuse at the school.”
“Are you kidding me?” Waters asked. “You’re grasping at straws!”
Penn walked over to Waters’s desk and sat behind it. “I don’t think so. And Ben’s heart attack…maybe Cole and Eve were trying to shake him down the same way they did you. They tried to convince him Mallory was alive, and it killed him.”
“You still see a conspiracy behind all this? Do you really think Lily would threaten her own daughter with a butcher knife?”
“I’m afraid so. By doing something a loving mother would never do, Lily convinces you beyond all doubt of the fantasy they want to sell you. She’s not Lily anymore. It’s like Eve cutting herself. That’s the only rational explanation for the events you’ve described.”