FALSE PRETENSES
Page 34
Gurgling sounds. Obscene gurgling sounds.
Then she saw Christian raise the hand that held the needle. He was bringing it down toward Jonathan’s back.
“Jonathan, watch his hand!”
She saw the hand disappear between the men. They rolled over, just once. She heard a sharp intake of breath.
The outside door burst open. Homer Peabody stood silhouetted in the harsh corridor light.
“Do something!”
Homer drew his gun and stared.
Elizabeth heard pounding, running footsteps.
She heard a scream.
“Jonathan,” she whispered, and threw herself to her knees, trying to get to Christian’s face.
Suddenly Jonathan drew up. He was breathing hard.
Elizabeth looked down to see the needle sticking out of Christian’s heart.
His eyelids flickered a moment, and he was staring up at her. He said nothing. Then his eyes rolled and his body jerked.
It was then that Homer Peabody jerked Jonathan away, pointed his gun at Hunter, and yelled, “Halt or I’ll shoot!”
But Christian Hunter didn’t do anything.
He was dead.
“That was Catherine,” Jonathan said, and hung up the phone. “Laurette Carleton died.”
Elizabeth gingerly shifted her arm in its sling and rose. She saw Kogi standing in the doorway to the living room, waiting for her to ask for something, anything. She merely waved him away with her good hand.
“The funeral will be on Friday.”
“Odd, but I think I want to go,” said Elizabeth. “That poor bitter old woman.”
“She had her guns aimed at the wrong person. Sit back down, love, and rest.”
“You and Kogi,” Elizabeth said on a sigh, but she sat back down on the sofa.
“On Saturday you and I, Mrs. Harley, are flying to Montego Bay. I’ve decided I want to see you with some sexy tan lines.”
“Sounds like a wonderful plan to me,” Elizabeth said. “But . . .”
“But what?”
“My business, your business, everything . . .”
“Why don’t you meet with Adrian, Coy, and Rod and all the rest of the gang, and I’ll do the same with my cohorts. We need to get away. The press is having another field day and I’m tired of flashbulbs going off in my face. It’s giving me premature wrinkles.”
He walked to the sofa and eased down beside her. “When we get bored making love in Montego Bay, we can discuss what we’re going to do about everything. Okay?”
“Sounds like another good plan, and I have no more buts.”
“Excellent. Now, pucker up.”
She did. Just before she closed her eyes, she saw the newspaper Kogi had slipped onto the coffee table. Her picture was on the front, and the headline read: ELIZABETH X CLEARED.
“Jonathan, look.”
He gave a deep sigh and watched her. She read a moment then turned to face him. “A verdict of not guilty just isn’t the same, you know, as ‘cleared.’ Cleared is like being scrubbed clean and everyone told about it. There’s even a statement from Moretti.”
“He probably wants you to back him in his next election.”
She laughed. For the first time in so long her head was filled with exhilarating glorious music. Her fingers played the song that was in her mind. It took Jonathan a few moments to realize that Elizabeth’s tapping fingers were playing music on his shoulder blade.
“Beethoven?”
She grinned at him. “Nope. That’s ‘Happy Days Are Here Again.”’
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