Gina Cresse - Devonie Lace 03 - A Deadly Change of Heart

by Gina Cresse

  “Hello Devonie. How are you? I heard about your awful ordeal tonight,” he said, looking as concerned as a worried father.

  I was relieved to see the familiar face. My nerves had been on edge ever since the attack. I relaxed and breathed again. “Garrett. What are you doing here at this hour?”

  I got a call from the night desk at the paper. We keep someone posted at the police station just in case any big stories break. When the call came in that there was trouble at your place, someone remembered you’d been in to see me a couple times and thought I’d want to know. I tried to call the station, but they wouldn’t tell me anything, so, here I am. Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Just a little scared. They’re holding Bradley Parker.”

  Garrett’s face lit with amusement. “Did he do it? Attack you, I mean?”

  “I don’t know for sure. He doesn’t have an alibi.”

  “You and I both know he’s as guilty as sin. Poor Diane. It’s about time he got what’s coming to him.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  Garrett took a step closer. I eyed him. Something was strange. Familiar. I looked past him, at the vehicle parked in the slot behind him. The engine was still ticking from the heat. It was a Humvee. Garrett’s Humvee. It had to be his. No one else was around. I’d seen it before, but not at the Tribune. It was during those hours and hours of viewing the Caltrans videos of traffic around Ralph Campbell’s house. That Hummer showed up on a regular basis. I was sure of it. The vanity plates were a dead giveaway. TRIB MAN. I don’t know why I didn’t make the connection while I watched the Caltrans videos. I noticed the size of the vehicle. It was very big—big enough to push a smaller SUV into the path of an oncoming train.

  Garrett took another step closer. The scent hit me. His cologne. It was Garrett who’d attacked me tonight. It was Garrett who’d tried to kill me on the railroad tracks. In that instant, I realized it must have been Garrett who’d killed Diane Parker.

  I took a step backward. He advanced. I turned to run. He made a leap for me, catching me by my shirttail. I swung my arms, hitting him squarely in the face with my fists. He ducked and lost his grip on the fabric of my shirt. I blasted past him and raced toward section E. My eyes scanned the garage for the Explorer. I knew it had to be close—just around the next corner. I could hear Garrett’s pounding feet on the cold cement. He was close and getting closer.

  The sound of his feet hitting the ground stopped momentarily. I ducked behind an old Chevy pickup and turned to see what he was up to. He pulled a gun from under his jacket. I spotted a tire-iron in the back of the pickup and grabbed it. Garrett fired at me. I ducked again and watched his feet from under the pickup. He headed my direction. I waited until he was close enough that I felt I couldn’t miss. At just the right moment, I screamed, stood up and flung the tire-iron at him. He had his gun raised to shoot when the tire-iron hit his wrist. The gun went off before flying out of his hand and skidding across the cement floor. It slid to the edge of the floor and fell to the next lower level.

  I darted out from behind the pickup and raced away from him. Holding his injured wrist, he started after me. There was the Explorer, just as I rounded the next corner. I had my keys in my hand, ready to plunge into the door lock, but Garrett was too close. I’d never have time to unlock the door and get safely in before he caught me.

  I made a daring move. Daring, because he wouldn’t expect it. Surprise. It was all I could think of. I stopped, turned, and ran directly at him. He was moving toward me full blast. As we collided, I ducked and he sailed right over me, landing flat on his back.

  I didn’t have time to recover from the collision. I lunged at the Explorer, fumbled to get the right key from the collection in my hand, dropped them, cursed, then finally opened the door. Garrett had just gotten to his feet and was within a couple yards when I jumped inside, shut the door and slammed my hand down on the door lock. He banged his fist on the driver-side window as I slid the key in the ignition and turned it. The engine didn’t fire immediately. I pleaded with it. Garrett banged harder. He wrapped his jacket around his arm and was doing his best to break the glass.

  The engine finally turned over and I jammed it into gear. The tires smoked and burned as I peeled out of the slot, knocking Garrett out of the way. I spotted the lighted exit sign but I was going the wrong direction. I’d have to get turned around to get out of the garage.

  Garrett jumped over a railing and suddenly he was in front of me. There was the gun, on the ground. He dove for it, falling flat on his stomach in front of me. I slammed on the brakes. The Explorer skidded to a stop. I watched him crawl toward the gun. I had to get turned around. I shoved my foot down hard on the clutch and grabbed the gearshift. Garrett inched closer to the gun. I shoved as hard as I could. The gearshift would not budge. There was no reverse left in the Explorer. Garrett’s fingers nearly touched the barrel of the gun.

  My mind flashed back to midnight on the dock. I remembered the noose he’d put around my neck. I recalled the heavy weight of the block, pulling me down to the ocean floor. I thought of Diane Parker, landing on the rocks at the base of the Sunset Cliffs. I put the Explorer in first gear and pressed on the gas pedal. He was so intent on getting his hand on that gun that he didn’t realize what was coming until it was too late for him to get out of the way. I rolled the front tire over his outstretched fingers as they reached for the gun. I knew when I’d hit the right spot by the sound of his screams. Then I set the brake and cut the engine.

  Caught like an animal in a trap, he couldn’t escape. I double checked the brake and eased myself out of the driver’s seat. He was bawling like a newly branded calf.

  I cautiously stepped around the front of the Explorer and kicked the gun out of his reach. “Bet you were surprised to see me still breathing, huh Garrett?”

  He continued to cry in pain. “Get this thing off me!”

  “So you can have a third chance to commit murder? I don’t think so,” I said, picking up the gun. I moved away from Garrett and sat down on a concrete curb, watching him all the while. “It’s starting to come together for me. Tell me if I have it right. Ralph Campbell said he went to the paper with his story about the plutonium, but he didn’t talk to Diane, did he?”

  Garrett’s hand remained pinned under the Explorer’s tire. Sweat dripped from his forehead. He finally quit struggling. There was no way he’d wiggle out. “No,” he grumbled.

  “No. I didn’t think so. He talked to you. He wanted to do the right thing, but you had other plans.”

  “Get this thing off me,” he whimpered.

  “In a minute. First, I have to see if I’ve got all the pieces to the puzzle. You convinced Ralph that being a plutonium entrepreneur was far better than a whistle blower.”

  Garrett pressed his forehead to the cool cement and rolled it back and forth. He spoke into the floor so I could barely hear him. “Campbell was no angel. I didn’t have to do much convincing.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t. Greed is a powerful force.” I set the gun on the ground at my feet, feeling secure enough that he couldn’t escape and try to hurt me again. “But I’m still a little unclear how Diane got mixed up in it. Did she discover your little business? Was she going to expose you?”

  Garrett raised his head and looked at me. The mention of Diane’s name seemed to have a calming effect on him, like music soothing the savage beast. “You know, it was just dumb luck. I’m really sorry it turned out the way it did. I would have won her over, given enough time. She’d have been a great catch—smart, beautiful, ambitious. I hated to have to—“

  “You were in love with her?”

  Garret laid his head back down. “Get this thing off me before I pass out!” he demanded.

  “You were in love with her, but she didn’t give you the time of day. I think Diane had too much character to even consider getting mixed up in your scheme. I think you probably knew that, too. She must have stumbled on one of your deals out jogging that m
orning. If you thought even for a moment that she’d return your feelings, you’d have spared her. Is that it?”

  Garrett’s eyes began to tear. “She would have loved me, if that jerk of a husband hadn’t messed up her head. I almost had her, in the beginning, but she put the breaks on. She had a change of heart. Said she needed time to find herself.”

  I thought about what he said. I had no sympathy for Garrett. He was the lowest form of life still technically considered human. I continued with my hypothesis. “It was you in your Hummer that night at the railroad tracks. You had already planned to kill Ralph, but when you saw me there, you decided to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. It’s all getting clear,” I said. “You followed me. I bet you felt like you hit the jackpot when you saw that train barreling down the tracks. Your lucky day.”

  “Not that lucky.”

  “No. I guess not. But you did manage to get Ralph out of the way. He was going to talk, wasn’t he? I could sense it. I’m sure you could, too.”

  “Campbell was an idiot. He couldn’t see how good he had it.”

  I scratched my head. “But what about me? Why come after me. As far as you knew, Sam was going after Bradley Parker for Diane’s murder. Your little informant down at the police station would have told you that,” I said. Then it occurred to me. “Ah. Your informant. He probably filled you in about my session with the Caltrans videos. Vanity plates on a Hummer. Stands out like a Great Dane in a pack of weenie dogs—and all recorded on videotape.”

  Garrett took in a deep breath. “Get me out from under here or I swear I’ll—“

  “You’ll what? Kill me? You had your chance,” I said. “So you figured I’d make the connection with you and Ralph Campbell as soon as I realized you’re the Trib Man. If my guess is right, you made a plutonium pickup at his house at least every week,” I continued.

  Sam and a half-dozen other officers came blasting around the corner, guns drawn. “Devonie! You okay?” Sam hollered. “Someone called in that there were shots fired in the parking garage.”

  “I’m fine, but he might need a little medical attention,” I said, pointing at Garrett.

  Sam came to my side. He looked at Garrett, trapped under my tire, then at me. “He’s the one?” he asked.

  I nodded. “He’s the one. When he found out he’d failed tonight at the marina, he came back for another try.”

  Garrett banged his free hand on the ground. “Get this thing off me before I pass out!”

  Sam picked up the gun and handed it to one of the other officers. “Settle down. We’ll have this vehicle removed from your hand long before you’ll have time to chew it off. In the mean time, why don’t you do us all a favor and shut up. You’re giving me a headache.”

  “This is cruel and inhumane. I’ll sue you for all you’ve got. And I’ll win. You know I will,” Garrett threatened.

  Sam chuckled. He draped his arm over my shoulder and walked me toward the exit. “Come on. I’ll give you a lift home. Looks like we’re gonna need your vehicle for a little while longer.”

  I was coming down from the adrenaline rush and my entire body shook. “Okay, but can I make a call first?”

  Sam stopped and looked at me. “Craig?” he asked.

  I nodded. “I need to talk to him.”

  “At this hour?”

  “He won’t mind. It has occurred to me that if the situation were reversed, I’d want him to call me. I’ve spent so many years alone, I never knew what it meant to really care. Now I do.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  I arrived forty-five minutes early to meet Pamela’s plane. I didn’t want to be late. I remembered the first time I’d flown anywhere after suffering a broken heart and having no one at the airport to meet me. It was the first time in my entire life there was no familiar, smiling face at the gate, anxious to know all about where I’d been and how my trip was. I’d wandered through the crowd of strangers, all there to greet someone else. No one there for me. No one of my own. No one happy to see me. No one. It was the moment that defined loneliness for me. There have been plenty of empty arrivals since then, but the first time was the absolute worst. I didn’t want that for Pamela. Not if I could help it.

  I spotted her anxious face coming up the jet way. I saw her searching expression, looking for something solid to hold on to. I raised my arm and waved to catch her eye. She spotted me and a smile of relief came over her face. She hurried through the crowd and I opened my arms to hug her. Tears flowed from her eyes. “Oh, Devonie. I’m so sorry I didn’t call to let you know where I was. I was just so upset. I wasn’t thinking straight,” she blubbered.

  I patted her back, still hugging her. “It’s okay. Everything is fine now. You’re okay, and that’s all that matters.”

  I let her go and retrieved a package of tissues from my purse. “Here. Looks like you need these more than I do.”

  She sniffed and took them from me. “Thanks.” Red, puffy eyelids framed her blue eyes. Clearly, she’d been crying for most of her trip across the country. She’d probably be crying even more in the days and weeks to come.

  I looked at her small carry-on bag. “Let’s go get your luggage.”

  After getting Pamela checked into her hotel, I bought her dinner and took her to a newly released comedy playing downtown. I was determined not to leave her alone until she was so tired she couldn’t have energy to do anything but fall asleep. I hoped she would be able to sleep better than she was able to eat. She barely touched her dinner, and she looked as though she’d lost about ten pounds since the last time I’d seen her. I was exhausted, but I knew how she felt, and there was nothing I could do to make things better for her except to be there with a shoulder for crying on. Tomorrow would be a big day for me, but I’d manage, somehow.

  I asked Pamela about her Aunt Lori. She explained that Lori wasn’t her real aunt, but she had been a close friend of Pamela’s mother—like a sister. Pamela had called her Aunt Lori ever since she was a little girl. Aunt Lori and her husband retired to Florida and offered to help Pamela get back on her feet after Bradley knocked the wind out of her sails. They were financially well off and had a small guesthouse she could live in, rent-free, while she attended culinary school. She’d always dreamed of becoming a world-class chef, but the demands of everyday life kept her from pursuing her dream—until now.

  At one-thirty in the morning, Pamela and I were watching Ever After on the television in her hotel room. I had tears running down my face when Prince Henry arrived to rescue Danielle from the horrible man who had enslaved her. I glanced over at the queen-sized bed on the other side of the nightstand to find Pamela fast asleep. That was my queue to leave. If I didn’t get enough sleep, I’d have dark circles under my eyes for the biggest day of my life. I took a mental inventory of the contents of my make-up case, better known as my tackle-box, to recall if I had any concealer.

  I left a note stuck to the bathroom mirror that my Aunt Arlene would be by in the morning to pick her up and keep her occupied all day. I switched the lights off and let myself out of her room.

  Enchanted. That’s the best word I can use to describe how Los Willows looked when I gazed across the lake at the fairytale gazebo, covered with tiny white lights. I stepped into the chauffeured boat that would glide across the lake, delivering me to the other side, and prayed I wouldn’t fall into the drink. America’s Funniest Home Videos flashed through my mind. All those horrible wedding disasters, captured on video for the whole world to see. There was Jason in the front row with his video camera. I was sure he had the same thought in his mind. If only I’d sail over the edge of the boat, he could be in line for the fifteen-thousand-dollar grand prize. I know he was praying for a slippery step or a loose heel on my shoe.

  No such luck for Jason. I settled myself on the satin-covered seat and smoothed the front of my beautiful dress. I leaned back in the seat and felt the row of tiny buttons pressing ever so gently into my back. The afternoon held all the promise of a day in para
dise. The sun shone warm on the green grass. Birds chirped in the shade trees surrounding the lake. Azaleas bloomed along the water’s edge. The scent of honeysuckle wafted around my head, and I glanced around, searching for the source of the wonderful smell. Bougainvilleas climbed along redwood arbors surrounding an area that would be used later for dining and toasting the happy couple, then for dancing into the wee hours.

  The little boat arrived at the other side of the lake without incident. Jason filmed with all the zeal of a Las Vegas gambler hoping for the wheels to hit seven-seven-seven, never letting his finger off the RECORD button. I stood up and my attendant took me firmly by the arm to help me disembark. I put one foot on the edge of the boat, smiled at Jason and feigned losing my balance. I knew it would jump-start his heart. I winked at him as I steadied myself and stepped off the boat.

  I held my bouquet of pink and white roses and baby’s breath and listened to the music as I started up the walk toward the gazebo. Uncle Doug, Aunt Arlene and Pamela smiled at me as I passed. Sam gave me a thumbs-up as I passed his row. I let one hand loose from the bouquet and returned the gesture. All my closest friends and family were there to share this once-in-a-lifetime event. I tried to see everyone’s face, to acknowledge their presence.

  Then our eyes met. It was like the first time I’d seen him. Like a dream. That handsome face. That warm smile. Those perfect eyes. I stopped for a fraction of a second and my heart felt like it skipped a beat. I felt goose bumps rise on my arms. But then, in an instant, I felt warm all over. I took another step and returned his smile. At that moment, I knew I’d never know loneliness again. I’d never step off the plane without his smiling face there to greet me, happy to see me, ready to take me to my home—to our home.

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