Carlene Thompson

  "I know. And with good reason."

  "But she was cleared. She was somewhere else the night of the kidnapping." Yes, according to Vinton, Millicent Longworth had been visiting a Mrs. Sally Rice that evening, Tom thought grimly. Mrs. Rice claimed Millicent had been with her from three in the afternoon until ten that night.

  "Caroline, do you remember what kind of car Millicent had at the time of the kidnapping?"

  Caroline laughed. "Now you're asking a tough one. That was a long time ago. But let me think. I do recall her father left a car that Millicent dutifully drove to the foot of the hill and back once a week to blow out the carbon, she once told us. Chris thought it was so funny she believed creeping down that steep hill at ten miles an hour would take care of the carbon. But if I remember correctly, the car was a Cadillac, one of those old models with the big fins."

  "Color?"

  "Gosh, Tom, I don't know. Dark."

  "Black?"

  "Maybe. No, wait. Chris said once if it were black it would look like a hearse. Let's see…brown or dark green. Brown, I think. Why is that important?"

  "Just wondering if she knew how to drive," Ton side-stepped. He'd told Caroline he wanted to let her in on everything, but this was one point he wanted to keep to himself for a while. If Caroline knew someone had spotted Hayley and she could have been saved…well, he just couldn't let her know, with everything else she was worrying about

  "I think I know why you're interested in her driving. David says he stuffed Twinkle in a full trash bag and the doll could have fallen out. David always believed Millicent took Hayley, you know. It's possible she came here and found the doll in the yard."

  "But how would she have gotten it in your house to begin with?"

  "That's what I've wondered, too. But I suppose there are ways." She sighed. "It's hard to believe I just saw Millicent yesterday."

  "You did?"

  "Yes. Melinda and I went to the cabin to ge Chris's cat. The cat ran up to the Longworth house and Melinda went after it. Millicent came out demanding to know what was going on. I explained about Chris getting shot and she said she knew that the girl Chris had been with ran up to her house to use the phone after Chris was shot."

  Ah, the charming and kind Renee, Tom thought wryly. He'd spoken with her yesterday about the shooting. "I don't know anything and I don't want to know anything," she'd told him hatefully. "You know, you meet a guy and go to his house for what you think'll be a nice evening and what happens? He goes berserk, then someone starts firing a machine gun at the house."

  "It was a handgun."

  "Handgun, machine gun—they both shoot bullets. And then after I've barely escaped with my life and go running for help, that crazy loon and fat toad up at that mansion aren't going to let me in. 'Don't open that door!' he kept shouting. Some scrawny old man opened it anyway. He was real sweet to me, but his lips were all blue. He looked sick. The woman kept flapping around yelling about privacy, and the fat toad turned his back and took off for the other room like he didn't want to be seen. If you ask me, it was him who fired those shots."

  "Did you get a good look at him, Renee?"

  She stared off petulantly for a moment, then, reconsidering the chance for more attention, relented. "Like I said, he was fat. And he had real black eyes like olives and grayish-brown hair that had gotten thin on top. That's all I could tell because he took off so fast. But I did see an Olds 98 parked in front of the house. I noticed because my mom has a car just like it I suppose it was his I can't picture that crazy woman or the sick old man driving."

  "What color was the car?"

  "White. And it wasn't new. My mom's isn't either."

  "You didn't happen to notice the license plate, did you?"

  Renee had looked at him with empty eyes, her jaw dropping. "You cops ace a real trip. Sure, I'm getting shot at and I stop to take down a license plate number. Jeez!"

  Jerking his mind back to his conversation with Caroline, Tom asked, "What else did Millicent say about the shooting?"

  "Nothing that made a lot of sense. There was one interesting thing, though. She said 'he' didn't want her to let the girl in. I thought she meant her brother, but she said it was a caller. When I asked who the caller was, she got cagy and said she didn't like to mention names. But she looked frightened. I think she'd let something slip."

  "You're sure she didn't say anything else about the man?"

  "Nothing. Why? Do you think he might have had something to do with the shooting?"

  "You never can tell," Tom said vaguely as he thought of the white Olds 98 he'd seen sitting in fat Harry Vinton's driveway.

  Caroline hung up the phone and ran a hand through her hair in frustration. Why hadn't she told Tom she was certain Millicent Longworth's death was connected with Hayley? First Pamela, then Chris, now Millicent—all people who had known her little girl. But she had no proof it wasn't coincidence.

  One piece of tangible evidence might make her case more convincing.

  When the phone rang ten minutes later, she thought it might be Tom again. Instead, Chris's whiskey-edged voice throbbed in her ear. "Caro."

  "Chris! Are you calling from the hospital?"

  "No, I was released this morning and took a taxi. I'm calling from a drugstore near home. I stopped by the vet's but he said you never dropped off Hecate. She didn't vanish after I got shot, did she?"

  "No. I'm sorry I didn't let you know sooner, but I didn't think you would be released until tomorrow. She stayed here with us." She laughed. "After what she'd been through I thought being with a family might be less traumatic than staying at the vet's, but I'm not sure."

  "I hope she hasn't been any trouble."

  "Not at all. Our Labrador, George, has been the problem—he's in love with her and won't give her a minute's peace, so I'm sure she'll be glad to get home even if Melinda will hate to give her up."

  "Your daughter liked the cat?"

  "Melinda has a magic touch with animals. Hecate even likes her, although I don't think she's too crazy about the rest of us."

  "I'll come by and get her."

  "That isn't necessary. I'll bring her to you if you're sure you're up to taking care of her."

  "I'm fine. My arm's in a sling, but aside from that I'm good as new and ready to take the cat off your hands. Besides, I've missed her."

  "Okay," Caroline said. "I'll see if I can coax her into the car and we'll be there in about half an hour."

  As soon as she hung up, her heart began to pound. She was going to see Chris. The prospect unnerved her, especially when she thought of David's disapproval, but at the same time she felt exhilarated, more alive than since this whole Hayley business started. Chris could always do that to her, from the time they'd met when she was a seventeen-year-old student in an art-appreciation class where Chris was the guest speaker. Twenty-seven years she had spent loving him, in spite of the hurt, in spite of the years apart. In spite of David.

  She pushed the thought of David from her mind as she went in search of the cat. There was no sense in writhing in guilt over feelings she could not change, even if she intended to do nothing about them. She would take Chris his cat, make sure he was comfortably set up in the cabin, and that would be the end of it.

  Hecate was curled into the bookcase in the family room, George stationed six feet below in ardent admiration. "George, we're going to have to get you a proper girlfriend," Caroline sighed as she scooped the cat off the shelf. Hecate stiffened and spat, terrified she was going to be presented to the black monster that had trailed her relentlessly for days, but when Caroline held her high and tight against her chest, the cat relaxed slightly. George was determined to follow them out to the car but let himself be diverted by a few Milkbones Caroline tossed on the kitchen floor before she and the cat dashed out the door to the garage.

  "Melinda's going to miss you," Caroline told the cat as they drove along the river road toward Longworth Hill. Hecate looked at her suspiciously with her one. beautiful eye, the
n went into a deep study of the scenery on the passenger's side.

  The smell of smoke still hung in the air around the hill, and when Caroline reached the top she understood why. All that remained of the Longworth mansion was a few crumbling brick walls. Obviously there had been no automatic sprinkler system here like the one in Pamela's house. Even the beautifully tended lawn and Millicent's prized rosebushes had been scorched by the conflagration. Caroline shut off the car, simply staring at the ruins for a few minutes while her stomach turned. Poor, strange Millicent, who only yesterday had been tearing around the lawn in her black cape, jealously protecting the family home. Well, she didn't have to worry any more. There was nothing left of the Longworth domain, nothing left of Millicent.

  Chris came out on the porch just as Caroline was opening the car door. "It's a real mess up there, isn't it?"

  His arm was in a sling, his face thinner and paler, but otherwise he looked fine. Hecate scrambled across her lap and shot toward him, a sleek black missile. "I had no idea the damage was so extensive." Caroline climbed from the car as Chris bent to scoop up the cat. "There's hardly anything left of the place."

  "And it was built like a fortress, too." Now that she was standing so near him, Caroline could see the deepening crow's-feet around Chris's eyes, the lines of strain making vertical slashes by his mouth. It seemed to her he had aged ten years in the past few days. "Have you heard the fire was deliberately set?"

  Chris looked at her in surprise. "Are you sure?"

  "Yes. Tom told me." She glanced up at the house again. "They also found Millicent handcuffed to the bed. She was murdered."

  Chris's pale face went whiter. "I can't believe it."

  "I know. Pamela Burke and now Millicent."

  "But there can't be a connection, can there?"

  Caroline shrugged. "Maybe not."

  Chris set Hecate on the ground, where she began winding around his legs. "Well, it's going to be strange not having dear Millicent's binoculars trained on the cabin. Tending her roses and watching me were her only sources of entertainment for twenty years. I bet old Garrison's going to miss her. He seemed really attached to her."

  "Do you know anything about his condition?"

  "He was at County, too, and I had one of the nurses check on him for me."

  Of course, Caroline thought dryly. Women are always happy to do favors for Chris.

  "It was a mild heart attack. I just hope he doesn't have another one when he hears about his sister." He nodded at the cabin. "I made coffee. Care for any?"

  I should go, Caroline thought. I should say no thanks and be on my way as soon as possible.

  "I'd love a cup," she heard herself saying.

  As soon as they entered the cabin, Hecate jumped from Chris's arms and dashed to her spot on the settee, looking as if she had just reached the promised land. "She's glad to be back," Caroline said, following Chris into the kitchen. "George has made her life unbearable."

  "Naw, she's just playing hard to get. She's probably flattered to death a member of the male sex still finds her appealing."

  "Melinda thinks you should check into eye transplants and maybe some reconstructive surgery for her ear."

  This time Chris threw back his head as he laughed. "She sounds like a doll, Caro. I wish I could meet her sometime."

  "Well, maybe you can someday," Caroline said vaguely, thinking of David's reaction to that suggestion. "Need some help with the coffee?"

  "No. Thank goodness it was my left shoulder that got it. I can even paint. Whoever was out there that night didn't mean to kill me."

  Caroline studied his face. "Why do you think that?"

  Chris handed her a mug of coffee. "According to Tom, the bullets were from a .22 caliber Beretta. The ground behind my jeep was scuffed up, so apparently the sniper was hiding there, over fifty feet away from the cabin. If someone really meant to blow me away from that distance, he would have chosen a more powerful gun."

  "Maybe he didn't know that much about guns. Or maybe he was just a bad shot. He did hit the cabin twice."

  "After I'd already fallen. Why keep shooting when I was out of range? No, I really think the intent was to vent rage, not kill me."

  "That sounds like Lucy's jealous-husband theory."

  "Jealous husbands don't carry around clown dolls."

  Caroline sauntered over to the hutch bearing the blue country crockery Chris's grandmother had given them as a wedding present. It was sparkling clean and shone in the morning sun. "Chris, what about Twinkle?"

  "The last time I saw the doll it was lying on my bed. But when Tom came to check the place over, he said it was gone, and according to him, the cops who came right after the shooting didn't see it, either."

  She turned to look at him. "But you're sure it was Twinkle."

  "Pretty sure. It certainly looked like Hayley's doll."

  "And it vanished when your girlfriend ran up to Millicent's to use the phone?"

  "It must have, because the ambulance and the police got here fifteen minutes after she called and there was no doll then."

  Caroline drained her cup. "Chris, do you think Hayley's murderer could have done this?"

  Chris stood and walked over to the window. Hecate, sensing his distress, raised her head to watch him, "That's exactly what I think. I'm leaving town day after tomorrow for Taos. I think you and David should vamoose, too."

  "We haven't discussed it, but it's a good idea." She stared at Chris's straight back, thinking. "You know, David always thought Millicent murdered Hayley, but she was murdered last night, too."

  "That doesn't mean she didn't kill Hayley or shoot me."

  "You don't believe she killed Hayley or you wouldn't have gone on living here."

  "No, you're right. She had an alibi. So who killed Millicent?"

  "I have no idea, but I have a feeling her death is related to everything that's been happening to me. Maybe even to Hayley's murder."

  Chris turned to look at her. "I think so, too. But what in God's name could be the connection between the murder of a little girl and that of an old lady all these years later?"

  Caroline tensed with the frustration of trying to explain feelings she couldn't prove. "I don't know. But I'm so desperate to find an answer." Her voice broke. "There's Melinda, you see. She gets calls, she's approached by a child calling herself Hayley…"

  Chris strode across the room and took Caroline in his arms. "Caro, don't fall apart. What happened to Hayley is not going to happen to Melinda."

  "You can't know that. And I can't forget."

  "You have to try."

  "Can you?" she cried. "Don't you go over Hayley's murder every day?"

  Chris sighed. "Yes, but I was the one who was supposed to be looking after her. If it had been you with her up on the hill, she would never have been taken. I know that. But unfortunately for Hayley, I was left in charge. And now she's dead."

  "Don't say that!" Caroline raised her face to his. "Stop blaming yourself. I can't bear it"

  "Really, Caroline? Don't you blame me?" Chris's voice was both incredulous and cynical. "Can you honestly say you have never blamed me?"

  "Yes, I can say it! You loved her as much as I did. And you were a wonderful father, a wonderful husband."

  Chris abruptly released her and turned away. "I wasn't as wonderful as you thought," he mumbled. "I wasn't a wonderful father or husband. That's why I've always said her death was a punishment."

  The awful cold feeling Caroline had experienced so often during the past few days swept over her again. Chris was going to tell her something she didn't want to hear. Her immediate desire was to run out the door with her hands over her ears, but some deep, masochistic impulse made her stand still and ask, "Punishment for what?"

  Chris wouldn't turn around to face her. "I wasn't going to tell you. Not ever. And then when this whole thing started again, I had a superstitious feeling that my silence was causing it." He laughed halfheartedly. "Crazy, isn't it?"

  "J
ust tell me," Caroline said flatly.

  "Oh, Caro, I'm so sorry."

  "Tell me."

  Chris took a deep breath and walked back to the settee. Hecate crawled onto his lap, her tail swishing as if in fright. "It was when you went on the trip to Jamaica with your parents. They always hated me, and I guess I resented your going and taking Hayley."

  "You told me to go. I hadn't been away from home since our marriage."

  "I know. I didn't say my feelings were fair. They just 'were'. So you were both gone with your parents, who could give you anything while I couldn't even support us. Little did I know that in just a couple of months everything would break for me. The gallery showing in New York. The great reviews. Anyway, one night Lucy drove up to see me." Oh, God, oh, no, a voice within Caroline moaned, but she looked back at him steadily. "Her painting wasn't going anywhere. She'd been told over and over she was competent, but that was it. She's always said none of that bothered her, but it wasn't true. The criticism crushed her."

  "I figured that out a long time ago, Chris."

  "Yeah, well, you would." Chris ran a hand through his hair. "She was at the bottom of the well, so we had a few drinks, then we smoked some. I guess we were both pretty stoned. And then…well, she told me she'd always loved me. Ever since we dated before I knew you. She was so fragile, so adoring. And you were…"

  "In Jamaica with my parents, who could give me anything."

  "Caro, don't make this harder."

  "I wouldn't dream of it. Please continue."

  Chris lifted his hands. "You can guess the rest. We both felt terrible afterward. Then Lucy found out she was pregnant. She wanted to have the baby. She said she could pass it off as the child of a man she'd had a brief affair with. But I said no. She was your best friend, she told you everything. If she'd had a fling, you'd know about it. You'd see right through a story about a mysterious man. You'd figure out she'd gotten pregnant while you were away. You'd put it all together. Lucy was hysterical. She loved you. She said you were the only real friend she'd ever had."