Portrait of Vengeance

by Carrie Stuart Parks

“The bone china was Eric’s grandmother’s.” Lila touched a dinner plate. “Spode Billingsley Rose. As you can imagine, he doesn’t use them for the regular guests. Please, have a seat.”

  We sat at the indicated places. Night had fallen and the Victorian parlor was transformed by candlelight. I should have changed clothes. I felt totally underdressed in my beige cotton sweats and sweater.

  Eric entered with a plate of sliced bread, placed it on the table, and joined us. “Please enjoy.” He passed the bread. “What have you two been working on all day?”

  I took a slice. “Well—”

  “I think we’re closing in on the killer.” Beth took a bite of salad. “Yum, this is delicious.”

  I tried to get her attention to let her know not to talk about the case, but she was on a roll.

  “Gwen’s narrowed the field to five suspects. Now we just have to figure out the right one and get him to tell us where he has Beatrice.” She glanced at me, then ducked her head and concentrated on her salad.

  “That’s easy,” Eric said. “We’ll set an irresistible trap for him.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  “IT’S NOT QUITE THAT EASY.” I DIDN’T WANT TO TELL ERIC and Lila that I was no longer connected to any law-enforcement agency. “I don’t have . . . the power to arrest someone.”

  “Oh.” Lila speared a tomato. “I thought you were an investigator.”

  “Umm . . .” I gave Beth a let’s change the subject look.

  “This salad is awesome,” Beth said. “What is it?”

  “Warm roasted eggplant salad with bell peppers and tomatoes,” Lila said. “We can help you set a trap and get the bad guy.”

  “Well . . . I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.” I smiled. “What’s the main course?”

  Eric nodded at a warming tray on the sideboard. “Roast duck with orange and ginger. Wild rice. Glazed onions. Why can’t we help you?”

  “For one thing, it’s dangerous.” I put down my fork. “He’s dangerous.”

  Eric straightened, then touched the side of his head. “I’m aware of that. I didn’t buy the idea of teenagers breaking in here. The only things they touched were in the game room—your things. When he hit me, it became personal. He could have just as easily gone ahead and chopped me up with a hatchet. Lila and I have sat on the sidelines of this whole investigation unable to do anything to help.”

  “Please, we have to do something,” Lila said. “Even if it’s just narrowing down who it might be.”

  In the silence that followed, a clock tick-tick-ticked in the hall. The candlelight and fireplace created dancing shadows on the walls. The old house rustled and moaned. Beth looked at me, raised her eyebrows, and gave a small shrug. “I think we should flush out the killer.” Both Lila and Eric nodded.

  “We can’t arrest him. It’s a police matter.” I gave them a sharp look. “We’re not even going to get near him. He’s a killer, and you were lucky, Eric. The last guy he whacked on the head he also killed.”

  Lila laid a hand on Eric’s arm.

  “All we need to do is get him to show himself,” Beth said. “The police can do the rest. They will need him to tell them where Beatrice is.”

  “You think she’s still alive?” Lila asked.

  “I do,” I said. “At least I pray she is.”

  “Then let’s go public,” Lila said. “Print something in the paper, or give a television interview.”

  “Difficult to set up.” Eric picked up the salad plates, put them on the sideboard, and served dinner. “And that would take too long. What about the Internet? Social media? YouTube?”

  I kept shaking my head.

  “How would we know he would see it?” Beth tasted the duck. “This is outstanding, Eric.”

  “Not just see it, but in a timely manner.” Lila pointed with her fork.

  “What if . . .” Beth bit her lip. “What if we sent a letter to the editor? Like he used to do?”

  “Letter to the editor?” Eric looked from Beth to me. “I don’t understand.”

  “It was a trap he set for me,” I said slowly. Eric, Lila, and Beth gave me encouraging smiles. They were going ahead with this harebrained scheme, with or without me.

  All I can do is keep them from getting hurt. Or killed. “A letter in the newspaper won’t work.”

  “That would take too long,” Beth said.

  “If we could somehow e-mail our suspects . . .” Eric leaned forward.

  “Do you have their e-mail addresses?” Lila asked.

  “No, but . . .” Beth took a bite of dinner and slowly chewed it. We watched her. I could tell she was enjoying the attention. If I had a pencil, I would have chucked it at her head.

  “What, Beth?” I asked through clenched teeth.

  “I’ll find their e-mails.” She grinned.

  “She was a researcher at Microsoft,” I said to Lila and Eric. To Beth I said, “We’ll use the wording from one of his letters to the editor, sign it Gwen, and add a time and place to meet.”

  “Where would you meet?” Beth asked.

  “I have no intention of meeting him—”

  “Why not?” Eric dabbed his lips with his napkin. “Wouldn’t you want to say something to someone who’s tried to kill you a couple of times? He tried to kill me.” He touched his stitches. “I’d want to ask why.”

  Dinner lost its appeal. I laid down my fork. “I know why he is trying to kill me. I don’t know that facing him, talking to him, will change how he sees me.”

  “You know him?” Lila’s eyebrows rose.

  “Knew him. It’s a long story, but let’s just say I don’t think he’ll ever forgive me for what he thinks I did. Someday I’ll forgive myself.”

  Lila opened her mouth to ask more questions, but Eric touched her arm. “Just have him come here. We’ll lock the doors—and believe me, our doors are thick.”

  “What if someone shows up inquiring about a room?” Lila asked.

  Eric shook his head. “After the attack on me, I listed us as having no vacancies. No one is booked into here until next week.”

  “That’s true,” Lila said slowly. “We do have the place to ourselves. And we can have someone waiting with a phone to call the police. Actually, we can call the police the minute he pulls into the driveway. They’ll be here in three minutes or less.”

  I sat back in my seat. “In three minutes he could hack through several of us. Or he could bring a gun and shoot us all in less than a minute.”

  Beth’s eyes were wide open. “He’s used a number of different weapons in the past.”

  “You mean he’s killed people other than the Sinopas?” Lila put a hand over her mouth.

  I counted on my fingers. “At least eleven, not counting the children.”

  “I don’t know, Eric.” Lila looked at him.

  “He knows you’re here.” Eric stood. “Unless you leave, he could come back at any time and finish the job he started.” He touched his stitches again. “Unless you leave,” he repeated, “none of us are safe.”

  “So give up and run, wait for him to return, or bring him here on our terms where we call all the shots.” Eric’s logic made a strange kind of sense. “Okay, but we’re calling the police first. We’re not going to wait until he shows up.”

  “What if he doesn’t appear?” Eric asked.

  “He will,” I said grimly.

  We cleared the dinner dishes and worked out the details of our plan. Beth would find the e-mail addresses of the five men. I would work on the wording of the message. Lila would call the Lewiston police. Once the message was sent, Lila would wait upstairs on the third floor in the middle bedroom, which had the best view of the parking lot. She’d have a phone to keep the police informed. Beth would be in the corner bedroom with binoculars to watch for his arrival and see if there was anyone, meaning Beatrice, in the car. Eric would park our car out of sight so when the suspect arrived looking for me, Eric could simply call through the door and say they were clo
sed and we’d checked out. I would stay out of sight and hang out with Winston.

  After giving Eric the keys to her car, Beth and I headed to the game room to work. Winston greeted me, then collapsed on the floor with a sigh.

  Shortly after Beth announced she’d succeeded in finding the e-mail addresses, Eric tapped on the door. “Your car’s out of sight behind the house. I’m checking with Lila.”

  Constructing the e-mail message, I copied one of Holly’s letters to the editor word for word. At the end I wrote, “8:00 PM Two Rivers B and B. A life for a life. Save the child. Trade her for me. Gwen.”

  Another knock on the door. “Lila got hold of the police. It took her a few minutes to explain the situation, but they said they’d send a patrol over to keep an eye out. He’ll park out of sight. I don’t think they believed her, but she reminded them of the attack on me.”

  “Thank you.” Beth clicked on her computer for a few more seconds, then looked up. “Done.”

  Did I just do the dumbest thing in the world?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  “BETH, I’M HAVING SECOND THOUGHTS.”

  Beth paused in unpacking her binoculars. “I thought you liked the plan. You agreed to it.”

  “Something’s not right.”

  “Nothing’s right. You counted eleven people dead plus the kids. He has to be stopped.”

  “Let me use your phone and at least call Seth. And double check with the Lewiston police.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Where’s your cell?”

  I snorted. “Possibly with one of the suspects, Officer Attao. I put it in the saddlebag when I went out with Phil to the crash site.”

  “My phone is missing, remember? It’s been missing since the break-in.”

  My neck muscles tightened. “What about the house phone?”

  “Do you have a phone in your room? I don’t. And I’ve not seen a phone anywhere in the place.”

  Now the tiny hairs on my arms stood on end. “Check your computer and see if you’re online.”

  She peered at the screen. “Nope, but remember, the Internet is spotty here.”

  My mouth dried. Slowly I looked at the age-progression drawing mounted on the foam board. Picking up a kneaded eraser, I approached the sketch, then tapped the iris, lifting out graphite. The eyes were now lighter in color. I stepped away and put my hand up, blocking the dark hair over the forehead.

  My hand trembled. Turning to the table, I opened the file on the Sinopa murders. The autopsy photos Beth had reprinted were on the bottom. I pulled out the one with the head wound on Adam Sinopa. The exact wound was on Eric’s head, but going in a different direction, as if struck from a different angle. I thought about Eric’s comment at dinner: When he hit me, it became personal. He could have just as easily gone ahead and chopped me up with a hatchet. The police hadn’t revealed that a hatchet had been used on the Sinopas.

  “Do me a huge favor, Beth. Stay here for a few minutes.” I worked to control my voice. “And lock this behind me.”

  Beth’s face drained of blood. “Why? Where are you going?”

  “I need to find Lila. She has a phone.” Listening carefully at the door, I could hear no sound of movement. I opened the door a crack and checked for any sign of Eric. Or should I just call him Jacob?

  The house was eerily still, as if holding its breath, with not even the usual creaks and moans. Slipping off my shoes, I crept through the hall, then up the stairs, wincing every time the floor squeaked.

  The second-floor hall had a jag in it, so I couldn’t see from one end to the other. It smelled slightly of old carpeting and furniture polish. Wall sconces dimly lit the hunter-green and cranberry wallpaper. I tried the door nearest me. Locked. Moving carefully, I tried each door. All were locked. I reached the end of the hall where the back stairs were located—originally the stairs used by servants. Below was Eric’s office. Taking even more care, I tiptoed up to the third floor. This hallway was far narrower, the odor of age stronger, doorways smaller, and light dimmer. One window opened to the front of the house and provided a little extra light. The doors were all locked on this level as well. Counting over, I found the room where Lila should be. “Lila,” I whispered, then tapped softly. “Lila?”

  Pressing my ear against the wood, I heard no sounds. I tried one last time. “Lila?”

  Downstairs, Winston started barking furiously.

  Adrenaline shot through my body. I raced to the window.

  A car had pulled into the lot. A man stepped out and looked around. He raised his face slightly to the front of the B and B.

  Jay Pender, Holly’s physical therapist.

  Did I just make a mistake? No. I couldn’t have.

  Running to the end of the hall nearest our rooms, I stopped at the top of the stairs.

  The doorbell rang.

  Sliding my foot down gently to prevent the old wood from creaking, I moved down the steps.

  On the first floor, someone strolled into the hall and to the door.

  My knuckles turned white. My nails dug into the bannister.

  “Can I help you?” Eric’s voice carried clearly.

  “Hi, I’m Jay Pender. I’m looking for Gwen Marcey. I believe she’s a guest here.”

  “Come in.”

  The air shifted, and the light scents of fresh flowers and old house drifted upward. Oh no!

  The door closed, then I heard a scuffle, ending with a thud.

  Someone rapped on wood, followed by a murmur of voices.

  Creeping down a few more steps, I almost reached the landing above the great hall. My only advantage at this point was that Eric didn’t know my location.

  A door opened and closed. More quiet talking.

  A scream.

  I froze and clutched the bannister with white knuckles. Look? Hide? Return to another floor?

  “You can come on down, Gwen.” Eric’s voice was calm.

  I turned the corner and came into view of the great hall.

  The doors to the game room were closed. Winston, on the other side, resumed barking and began digging at the carved surface. Beth was leaning against the entrance to the parlor, clutching the wall as if it were the only thing keeping her upright. Her head was turned toward the front door. Jay Pender lay unconscious on the floor, blood seeping from a wound on his head.

  “Move into the parlor.” Eric’s voice came from the shadows. Beth didn’t move. “Move or she’s dead.” Eric stepped into the light, a large carving knife at Lila’s throat. The woman’s eyes were closed, her lips moving as if in prayer. Tears trickled down her cheeks. “That goes for you, too, Gwen.” He looked directly at me, his eyes onyx-black. The hate radiating from his gaze was almost physical.

  I clutched the railing, afraid I’d fall if I let go. I could run down the stairs, get to the door to let Winston out . . . I measured the distance. I’d never make it in time. He’d slice Lila’s throat and stab my dog before I could run for help.

  “Don’t even think about it, Gwen.” He jerked his head toward the parlor, then moved to block the door to the game room. Winston, as if sensing Eric so near, redoubled his barking, then threw his weight against the door, making the paintings rattle on the wall.

  One step at a time I descended the stairs, crossing to the side farthest from the man. “You were very clever, Eric. You colored your hair. Green contacts. I didn’t recognize you, not at first.”

  “But you did.”

  When I reached the bottom, I backed into the parlor until I was level with Beth. “What happened?” I whispered.

  “He tapped on the door and asked for you. You didn’t tell me he was the one, so when I saw Pender, I thought everything was okay. He told me to leave Winston in the game room.”

  Beth wrapped her arms around her shoulders. “It wasn’t until I closed the door behind me that I saw he had Lila.”

  I looked at Lila. “You didn’t have a chance to call the police, did you?”

  She shook her head. “Eri
c said he’d call.”

  “And I did,” Eric said. “I told them you’d checked out and would contact them in a few days.”

  I squeezed my hands into fists. Will they believe him? Why not?

  Eric forced Lila ahead of him into the parlor.

  Beth and I backed away.

  Lila’s eyes were pleading.

  “Jacob,” I said.

  The man flinched. A thin line of red appeared on Lila’s neck.

  The woman turned as white as a sheet. More tears streamed down her face.

  “Let her go, Jacob,” I said. “Let Lila and Beth go.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “But I’m the one you want. I’m the one who left you.”

  Jacob’s tongue darted out and licked his lips. “Yes.”

  I could barely hear him over the racket from Winston’s assault on the door. “Please, Jacob. Let them go.”

  “Please.” Lila’s voice shook. “Please, Eric. I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

  “See, Eric,” I said. “Lila loves you.” I have to make him see her as a person. “Neither Beth nor Lila ever hurt you.”

  “Shut up, Gwen. I’ve waited a long time for you to return. I knew you were out there.”

  “W-what do you mean?” Lila asked.

  “You silly sow,” Jacob whispered in her ear. “You never asked me why I traveled so much for my ‘charities.’ I was baiting a trap for Gwen here.”

  “What about your mom, Holly?” I asked.

  He winced. “I’ll take care of her when I’m done with you. She was more bait.”

  “Jacob, please, it’s me you want.”

  “You’re right.” Jacob’s eyes glittered. “I didn’t want to lose my cover. I wanted to get you alone so we could spend time together, but you kept leaving. But now, well, I never would have imagined this would work out so well. No one will bother us here until next week. I have all the time in the world. I can’t wait to have you experience all the things my insane mother did to me.” A vein pounded in his forehead. “Then I’ll just disappear.”

  Lila tried to jerk away. I grabbed Beth and dashed to the door. With a quick slash, he drew the knife across Lila’s throat, then leaped in front of us. Lila crumpled.