“I thought you were going to the clogging show at the nursing home today.”
“I was,” Clare said, “but I wanted to check on something.”
“In this old place?” Bianca set the red plastic container she was carrying down on the floor. She looked around the room, as if seeing it for the first time. “Lordy, there’s a lot of junk in here.”
Clare’s breathing returned to normal and she tried not to look as embarrassed as she felt. “I have to apologize for breaking into the boathouse. I was looking for something. I actually do have a valid reason for coming here, but that really doesn’t excuse the fact that I’ve entered illegally.”
“Don’t worry, dear. You saved me some trouble by opening upthe place. I was coming down here anyway. Did you find what you were looking for?”
Bianca’s voice was high-pitched as if she were excited at the possibility of a discovery. Clare was grateful that Bianca wasn’t angry with her.
“Yes, I did find it.” She leaned over and picked up the metal box and set it on top of a dusty spindle-legged table. The table lurched to the side and she had to grab the handle of the box to keep it from falling.
“That table used to be in my mother’s sewing room. One of the legs is missing,” Bianca said.
She shoved a stack of square boat cushions under the edge to steady the table. A cloud of dust swirled around and she wiped her hands on the front of her dress.
“Have you opened it?” she asked, pointing to the box.
Clare shook her head. She could feel the anticipation build as she reached for the latch. Holding the handle on the top of the box, she pressed the latch and it opened with a rusty creak. She lifted the top of the box and looked inside.
A ceramic doll in a long nightdress lay on the top.
“It’s Matilda,” Clare whispered.
With shaking fingers she reached in and picked up the doll. She turned it over so that she could look down at the frozen expression on the doll face. The blonde curls were tinged with brown, some of them breaking as she stroked them with her finger. The pink nightgown and bathrobe were faded and the material was splitting and fraying at the edges. There were dark brown splotches on the front of the nightgown. Stiffened blood from the night of the murder.
Clare looked up and Bianca was staring at her, her forehead puckered in question. She pressed the doll against her heart wanting to clarify everything.
“I have so much explaining to do. But first I need to tell you who I am, Bianca. I’m Lily Newton’s daughter.”
Bianca nodded. She pushed back the hair at her temples, leaving a streak of dust on her face. “I know who you are. I overheard Erika telling her little friend Cindy.”
Although surprised that the woman had never said anything to her, she hurried to explain what she was doing. “This is where my mother was killed. Finding the doll proves it. I remember being here that night and I had Matilda in my arms.”
“You came to find a doll?” Bianca said.
“No. I came to see if I could find any evidence that my father didn’t kill my mother.”
“Ah,” Bianca said, leaning forward to look more carefully at the doll. “What kind of evidence do you think you can find after all this time?”
“I don’t really know. I remembered seeing my adoptive mother, Rose, put a letter in this box and hide it under the floor. That was the first thing I was hoping to find. I still can’t believe it’s still here after all this time.”
“It was a mail box in the old days. I found it too.”
Clare held the doll tight against her and stepped around the clutter until she stood in the doorway.
“It was storming outside and I came in. My mother was lying on the floor. The gun was right there and I picked it up and it fired. If I was holding it sideways the bullet would have gone into that wall.”
She ran back to the cubbyhole in the floor and picked up the flashlight. Putting the doll down, she flicked on the light. She swung it back and forth across the wall as she moved closer.
“The bullet could still be in the wall,” she said.
“I doubt if you’ll find it, Clare. There’s really no point you know.”
“What?”
Clare turned around, the beam of the flashlight angling across the floor. Bianca was standing in front of the metal box. She reached inside and pulled out a gun. Clare recognized it immediately. It was the gun that had killed Lily.
“You should have let it alone, Clare.” Bianca raised the gun and pointed it directly at her. “It was so long ago. Everyone had forgotten.”
“It was you?” Clare said, her fingers tightening around the flashlight. “You shot Lily?”
“Yes. I knew Rose was going to meet Olli here. This was where he always met the women who were after him. He was drinking at the dance and making a fool of himself over Rose. I gave him a sleeping pill when we got home. I came to tell her to leave him alone. It started to rain and I lit a candle. I knew the metal box was in the floor. I’d seen Rose putting love letters in it. I got the box out so I could show her that she had no secrets from me. I waited for a long time that night. Finally your mother arrived.”
Clare’s legs were shaking so hard that she thought she might fall down. She dropped down on an old wooden trunk, the flashlight still on, the beam a cone of light that stretched across to Bianca’s feet.
“It’s my father’s gun, isn’t it?” she asked.
“Yes. Lily brought it with her. Maybe she was planning to shoot Olli. I don’t know. You’re like your mother. Can’t keep your nose out of other people’s business. I would have made sure that Olli didn’t see Rose any more. But your mother said she was going to contact the church board about Olli. I couldn’t have that.”
Clare was stunned that this soft-spoken woman was really a murderer. She had an aura of icy calm about her that was truly frightening.
“I tried to reason with her, but she wouldn’t have any part of it. Finally I got so angry that I grabbed the gun out of her hand. She came at me then. She slapped me across the face. I was so shocked that I pointed the gun at her and pulled the trigger. I shot her twice more and she fell on the floor.”
Clare covered her mouth with her hand. She wanted to cry out, but she couldn’t find the strength.
“Then you came running along the deck outside,” Bianca continued. “I dropped the gun on the floor. You ran in and stopped. You reached down and picked up the gun and when the wind blew the candle out you must have squeezed the trigger. You almost shot me. I was just over there in the corner.”
Bianca pointed and Clare turned her head to look.
“And then it came to me. I could blame you for shooting Lily. You were too young to know any different. All the way back to the Gundersen house I told you that you’d shot the gun. When I met Rose on the trail, I told her you’d accidentally shot Lily. You were covered in blood. She believed me. She took you home and said she would send Jimmy down to the boathouse. I cleaned up everything while he took Lily’s body to the other side of the lake. I put the gun and the doll in the box and put it back under the floor.”
Clare shook her head back and forth. She was appalled that Bianca could have sacrificed a child’s life to save her own.
“I spent my life protecting my brother from women who wanted to steal him away. I love him so much and some day he’ll understand how much I’ve forfeited to be his partner and helpmate.He should be satisfied with me as his lover, but like most men he’s weak. In the past, lustful women have led him into temptation. Most of the time a simple warning is enough to discourage them.”
“Did you kill Margee Robinson?”
“Yes. She knew that Rose was going to meet Olli the night of the murder. She was the one who told your mother. I saw her at the Farm Show and I suspected she wanted to talk to you. I told her I was feeling faint and got her to go with me to the storeroom. She wasn’t very strong. When we got inside, I grabbed her arm and threw her against the wall. She hit her head
. I laid her out as if she’d tripped. Everyone believes it was an accident.”
“Have you no remorse? No conscience?” Clare burst out. “Does Olli know what you’ve done?”
“Of course not. He would never condone such a thing.” Bianca pursed her mouth in disapproval. “I don’t intend for him to find out either.”
“What will you do now?”
It was obvious to Clare that Bianca had no intention of letting her go. She had already killed twice and would have no compunction in doing it again. Clare would have to look for her best chance toescape.
“You never asked me what I was doing here,” Bianca said.
She spoke conversationally, her mouth pressed into a thinlipped smile. She walked over and unscrewed the cap on the red plastic container by the door. With the gun still on Clare, she tipped the container, letting some of the liquid splash onto the floor.
“When I found you at the camp the other day, I realized you might have been searching for the boathouse. I thought you’d be outof the way today, since you’d be going to the clogging show. I should have done this years ago.”
Clare sucked in her breath at the smell of gasoline that permeated the room. It didn’t take long to understand Bianca’s plans for her. Whatever she did to save herself, she’d have to do immediately.
“You’re crazy! You’ll never get away with this.”
“Get up,” Bianca said, waving the gun at Clare. “Get over in that corner.”
Clare pushed to her feet. She turned as if to follow Bianca’s command. Taking a firm grip on the flashlight, she swung back and threw it as hard as she could at Bianca. The metal flashlight hit Bianca on the shoulder as she raised the gun to shoot. The shot was a huge explosion in the small room. Clare felt a burning sensation on her thigh and then a sharp pain.
“Clare!”
Nate’s voice shouted her name and she heard running footsteps outside. She could feel blood running down her leg and fought the quivery sensation in her stomach, locking her knees to keep from falling.
“Bianca shot Lily!” she yelled. “She has the gun.”
“Shut up,” Bianca said. She charged across the floor and jammed the gun into Clare’s side.
“It’s all over, Bianca. Now that Nate knows, everyone will know what you’ve done. Even Olli will know.”
Bianca’s body jerked and the gun barrel pressed deeper into her side. Clare held her breath, knowing that one wrong move would end her life. Looking outside, she could see Nate standing onthe deck, arms raised as a sign of surrender.
“Bianca,” Nate shouted. “All I want is Clare. Give her to me andyou’re free to go.”
S
Chapter Thirty
“Let Clare go, Bianca!” Nate shouted. Blood pounded in Nate’s temples. He had raced along the path toward the boathouse, stumbling to a halt when he heard the gunshot. Fear for Clare tore through him as he waited for a reply. He was stunned that it had been Bianca who was the author of so much pain and had brought such devastation to so many lives. Turning his head to look at Jake, he could see the same disbelief on the older man’s face.
“Bianca! Release Clare and you’re free to go,” he repeated. Jake cocked his head and sniffed the air. “I smell gas.” He spoke softly so that his voice didn’t carry inside the boathouse.
“I can see what looks like a gas can just inside the doorway,” Nate whispered. “Bianca must be planning to burn the place down. Can you see either Clare or Bianca?”
“No. They’re out of my sight line. We’ve got to get Clare out of there.” There was urgency in Jake’s voice. “In this heat, the fumes will be building up inside the boathouse. A spark could set it off.”
Nate nodded and moved nearer to the door of the boathouse.
“Can you hear me, Bianca?” Nate called out.
“Yes. Don’t come any closer. Are you alone?” Bianca asked.
“No. Jake Jorgenson is here with me.”
Suddenly Nate spotted movement on the far side of the boathouse. The branches on the bushes shook and a furry brown head poked through the underbrush. Waldo’s limp was more pronounced than before as he lumbered over to the end of the walkway. He stood motionless, panting and sniffing the air.
Jake swore under his breath, motioning with his arm for the dog to sit. Whether he understood or not, Waldo dropped down onthe walkway.
“Bianca,” Jake shouted. “It’s all over now. Don’t make it worse by hurting Clare.”
“Stand where I can see you,” Bianca shouted.
Jake moved next to Nate, in line with the doorway.
Mumbled voices could be heard inside the boathouse. Nate assumed that Clare was trying to convince Bianca to give herself up. There was silence for a minute or two then Clare’s voice could be heard.
“She says she won’t come out as long as you’re holding the rifle, Jake.”
The older man’s resistance to obey was almost a physical presence. Nate could see his knuckles whiten as he tightened his grip on the barrel.
“Put it down on the end of the walkway or I’ll shoot her again,” Bianca shrieked.
“All right. All right,” Jake said, teeth gritted with his anger.
Very slowly Jake moved to the end of the wooden planks and set the rifle down. As he bent over, he whispered to Nate.
“Be ready to grab Clare,” he said, then aloud, “It’s down. Let her go.”
Nate tensed as Clare’s figure appeared in the doorway. Bianca was behind her, one hand gripping Clare’s hair, the other holding agun against her side. Rivulets of blood ran down one of Clare’s legs and her face was a mask of pain. He started forward, but was stopped by Bianca’s harsh voice.
“Don’t move, Nate, or I swear to God I’ll kill her.”
At the sound of her voice, Waldo sprang to his feet and a low savage growl rumbled up his throat. Bianca whirled to face the new threat, holding Clare as a shield.
Waldo lowered his body into a crouch and took a step closer as he continued to growl.
“Call your dog off,” Bianca cried. “Get him away from me.”
Taking advantage of the distraction, Nate slipped along the wooden planks, closing the distance between himself and the nearly hysterical Bianca. Sensing his movement, Bianca backed up toward the door of the boathouse. Waldo took another step forward, his teeth bared in a snarl.
“Get away,” Bianca screamed, pulling the gun away from Clare’s side and aiming it at the dog.
In an instant, Nate leaped forward and grabbed Clare’s arm and pulled her away. Bianca swung the gun back toward them and pulled the trigger.
The bullet hit Nate in the shoulder, jerking him sideways against the wall of the boathouse, but he managed to keep his grip on Clare. He literally dragged her along the wooden walkway, until he reached the end, then stumbled off onto the path. Still holding Clare, he fell to his knees, rolling so that he took her weight as he landed on the ground. He shifted so that he held her cradled in his lap, his back toward the boathouse. Turning his head, he stared over his shoulder at the three figures frozen in a deadly tableau.
Bianca stood in the doorway of the boathouse, the gun pointed at Waldo who was only two feet away. The dog was motionless, the hair standing up on his back and his lips pulled back from his teeth as he continued to growl at her. Jake was at the other end of the walkway, his rifle aimed at Bianca.
“Are you all right, Clare?” Jake asked, never taking his eyes off Bianca.
“Yes.” Clare tightened her arms around Nate’s waist.
“Nate?”
“Just my shoulder.”
Waldo growled, the sound deep in his throat.
“Get that dog away from me,” Bianca screamed.
“It was you who hurt him,” Jake said.
“I should have beaten him to death. Call him off or I swear I’ll shoot him.”
“You can’t shoot him.” Jake’s voice was a monotone as if the effort to speak was too much for him. “You’re out of bullets.”
/>
She looked down at the gun in her hand then jerked her head upand aimed it again at Waldo. “You’re lying,” she snapped.
“I know that gun. It holds six bullets. It’s the gun you used to shoot Lily Newton. You shot her three times. Clare shot it once. You shot Clare just before we arrived and the last bullet you used to shoot Nate.”
Jake spoke each word distinctly, the volume of his voice increasing until he was almost shouting. He lowered the rifle and called out to the dog.
“Come, Waldo. Come here.” His tone was commanding.
The dog was motionless for a moment then shook his head as if to clear it. His limp was less pronounced as he came toward Jake who moved backward, coaxing the dog until he was beside Nate and Clare at a safe distance from the boathouse.
“Sit.” Waldo flopped down beside Clare, who buried her face in his fur. “Stay.”
Jake turned back to face Bianca.
“I’m telling you, Bianca, the gun is empty. It’s totally useless.”
“You’re lying.” She spat the words out but there was a quiver of doubt in her voice. “You can’t know.”
“Yes, I can. That’s my gun.”
Clare caught her breath and stared at Jake. She knew immediately what he meant. She understood why she had trusted him so easily and confided in him without reservation. Somewhere in her heart she had always known he was her father.
“It can’t be,” Bianca said. She pointed the gun directly at him. “If you’re Jimmy Newton, the police won’t believe anything you say. This time they’ll have the murder weapon and there’s no one alive who can prove your innocence.”
“You’re delusional, Bianca. The truth always comes out. What will your tombstone read when you’re gone? Will Olli still love you when he knows what you’ve done?”
“I did it all to protect him. You should have been dead.”
Bianca was defiant. She pointed the gun at Jake and pulled the trigger. There was a sharp click as the hammer fell on the empty chamber.
“I was dead.” Jake’s voice was toneless. “The moment you killed Lily, I had no desire to go on living. I was a walking dead man. You took away twenty-five years of my life. You stole my wife and my child. You stole Clare’s childhood. May you rot in hell.”
Conspiracy of Silence Page 33