Claire Gulliver #06 - Carnage Goes Coastal

by Gayle Wigglesworth

  She said very calmly, but in a sarcastic tone, “You never were more than a pretty face, Scott, and you’re certainly replaceable. I have no intention of answering to the authorities for any of this. Sad as it may seem to you, you and Dad will be taking the rap. People will just think of me as a poor victim in this tragedy. In a few years I’ll survive to pick another running mate. Being the innocent survivor of this situation will only strengthen my value to whomever I campaign for.”

  Her eyes reflected her determination and Scott realized there was no way out of this. She was too far from him to try to disarm her. He watched as her finger started to squeeze the trigger.

  He knew he was about to die. And worse, he would be blamed for all the carnage. But when the shot echoed through the room it came from somewhere to the right of him. Phoebe’s face froze in a mask of surprise. She stood for a second as the blood spread alarmingly fast across the silver of her dress. Her eyes fastened on her father and she cried in a little girl’s voice, “Daddy...?” before she crumbled into a heap on the carpet.

  Scott swung to look at an ashen faced Stanford, who sat behind his desk holding a large square gun.

  “You killed her?” He couldn’t believe what had just happened.

  “I should have done it years ago. You know when you mate with a monster you will beget monsters. Phoebe was her mother’s child, like her in every way. I spent my adult life under that woman’s thumb, doing her bidding, working for every penny she doled out to me. And she never let me forget she was in charge. She was rich and important. I was only hired help. When she died, instead of freeing me, she left me still beholden to Phoebe for every dime I needed. I then became Phoebe’s hired help. I was her father and I had fooled myself into thinking she loved me. That’s what a fool I was!”

  He shook his head sadly. “She was going to kill us both and convince the police she was innocent. And she probably would have succeeded.”

  “We need to call the police, Stanford,” Scott offered, still in shock. “It was self defense. She was going to kill us. I saw what happened.”

  Stanford shook his head sadly, the gun still held in his hand. “No, my boy. I can’t go through all that. I can’t suffer that ultimate indignity.” His smile was sad. “It’s okay, I don’t have much to look forward to according to the doctors. Whatever time I have left will not be long, or easy, or pretty. I was just thinking about telling you both about the diagnosis when you showed up tonight. Now I’m thinking it all happened as it was meant to be.

  “Phoebe was my responsibility. I sired her. I raised her. I allowed her mother to train her, and now I’ve destroyed her. It’s all for the best, don’t you think?” he asked sadly, and with no further discussion he put the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger once more.

  Scott felt like he had been rooted there for a long time before the frantic pounding on the door got his attention.

  “Call the police,” he called out, but the pounding didn’t cease. He shook his head and cleared his throat before hollering loudly, “Call the police. There has been a terrible tragedy.”

  CHAPTER 45

  At eleven a.m. the next morning Claire was being seated on another Vantage jet. This one was heading for Chicago. Her stressful morning had an early start when Martin Ng from the FBI arrived on the Lickman’s doorstep. Martin had been involved in a special law enforcement joint taskforce which had been formed many years ago to try to solve a series of deadly incidences threatening the Lickmans and Claire during Claire’s first visit. Because of Martin’s familiarity with Claire, and the Lickmans, he had now been assigned to the Ellington affair.

  It was hard for both Claire and the Lickmans to accept what had transpired at Stanford Smythe’s home the night before. And of course, they were all consumed with guilt for their role in what had now become the Ellington/Smythe murder-suicide.

  “Don’t blame yourselves,” Martin said with sympathy. “You may have been the catalyst, but they were clearly heading for disaster. Scott was the only one standing after that meeting and he is still reeling from shock. The man was in way over his head, yet he somehow thought he was in control until last night. This is the man who thought he would be president.” Ng’s voice was heavy with the tone of disgust.

  “His father-in-law had been in over his head for years, but it turned out he was a cagey old codger. He had a recording system in his office similar to the one Nixon used. Every word of last night’s confrontation was recorded clearly on disks. That was fortunate for Scott, because it proves without a doubt he did not participate in either of the killings. And it clears Scott of any blame for the assassination attempts on your stepdaughter, Claire.

  “There are stacks of CD’s waiting to divulge their secrets. Stanford Smythe has been active in politics for decades. Who knows what other interesting secrets will be revealed?” Martin’s grin made him look like a predator.

  “Scott was adamant the police notify Karen immediately about a person named Sal Fizzor, who his wife had hired to kill her. He seemed to think the man was close and would soon strike if he hadn’t already. We were happy to report to him that Fizzor did make an attempt to kill Karen, but he was not successful. He is now in custody and that recording will help put him away for a very long time.”

  “I talked to Karen’s U.S. Marshal this morning. He says Karen doesn’t know anything about what happened here last night. He had moved her to a rather remote location after the incident Friday night with Fizzor.” Martin held up his hand, palm out, “No, no, don’t stress. She and the boy are fine. They were not physically hurt although I can imagine they might have been shook up after all that has happened.

  “Anyway, the Marshal suggested you, Claire, might like to join him to meet with Karen. Not only could you help explain what happened here, but he felt you could be helpful by participating in their discussion of what to do next. He thinks the risk to Karen has probably ended with this last incident and she can give some thought to resuming her normal life once more.”

  Claire’s face lit up. “Really? Do they really think it’s safe for her to come back? Oh, we’ll all be so grateful if that’s true.”

  The wheels of the plane hit the tarmac rather smartly, jolting Claire back to the present. Now she impatiently waited for the plane to dock at the terminal. At last the door was open and, of course. Claire was the first one out, automatically smiling at the beaming steward who had thanked her for flying with him.

  The big, black man was waiting for her to emerge. “Claire Gulliver, I’m Marshal Chuckfeld. People usually call me Chuck. This way, we have a cart waiting.”

  The speedy trip through the airport was silent except for the driver’s incessant call, “Watch for the cart,” as he tried to steer around passengers traveling from one gate to another. The cart driver dropped them at the outside curb where a dark blue sedan sat empty, waiting. It was seemingly invisible to the two patrolmen who were waving off the motorists attempting to linger outside, forcing them to circle the airport again. Chuck unlocked the car and held the door for Claire to get in. He waved casually to the two officers and they were on their way out of the airport.

  Now it seemed okay to talk, so Claire said, “Thanks for finding me. I hoped you would hold up a sign with my name on it.”

  “Not necessary. Kay has several photos of you at the house, so I knew what you looked like. I’m glad you came. We’ve handled lots of these people who are assuming another identity and building another life. But I confess, I’ve felt bad for Kay and Jamie. They’re nice people. So I’m pleased they are going to have the choice to undo it and resume their former life. I’ve gotten fond of that little boy. He’s a charmer.”

  “I can’t wait to see him. I wish my husband could be here. He’ll be so happy to have them back in our life once more. And we’ll all be relieved that we can count on them being safe and having a normal life again. It’s been a terrible situation, especially the feeling that anyone, anywhere might be trying to kill them.”


  Chuck nodded gravely; he was all too familiar with that problem.

  CHAPTER 46

  “Mom, Mom, Nonni’s here!” Jamie’s excited voice called in from the porch.

  Kay looked up. “No, Jamie. That’s not possible! She had responded without really thinking. Then his words sank in. Alarmed she hollered, “Jamie, come in the house. Right now!” She ran to the open door. But she was too late. Jamie was already running down the path to the car which had stopped in the drive.

  Kay’s alarm turned to disbelief as she watched Claire stretch out her arms to scoop up the running boy, who had launched himself at her. Then she was running down the path herself, crying and laughing simultaneously.

  “Claire, Claire, is it really you? How are you? How did you find us?” Then she saw Chuck unfold himself from the driver’s seat to grin at her before reaching out to pet Harley who was prancing around as if he alone was responsible for everyone’s joy.

  The next few minutes were noisy and confusing with everyone trying to talk at once. Finally Kay seemed to remember she was the hostess and led them all up to the generous porch tacked on the outside of the cabin. When everyone was seated and she returned from the kitchen with a pitcher of lemonade and some glasses, they were ready to talk.

  “I told you, Momma. I told you Nonni was here,” Jamie said with a big grin.

  “You did. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you at first. It was such a surprise.”

  Jamie hugged his mother. “She looks just like the picture on the mantle.” Then he turned to Claire. “Where’s Poppa? Why isn’t he here? Couldn’t he come?”

  Claire shook her head. “Oh, Jamie, he’s going to be so sorry he’s not here. He’d love to come visit you.”

  “This isn’t our house. We’re on vacation. But you can visit us at our house, can’t they, Mom?”

  Kay nodded. “We’d love to have them both visit us. We’ll see what we can do, okay, Jamie?”

  Eventually, everyone calmed down. Jamie had shown Claire all the tricks Harley could do and even demonstrated how well he could turn a somersault. Chuck took pity on Kay, who was working hard to contain her questions, and said, “You’ll never guess what I have in the trunk, Jamie.”

  Jamie looked at him, his face bright with curiosity.

  “I put a couple of fishing poles in there. I thought that dock down there looked like the perfect place to catch a couple of fish for dinner. What do you think? Should we try it out?”

  Jamie could hardly contain himself, he was so excited. “We’re going fishing?”

  “We could.” Chuck nodded.

  Jamie was on his feet. “Come on, Harley, we’re gonna get us some fish.”

  Kay laughed explaining, “One of his friends goes fishing with his dad and Jamie has been pestering me about going fishing for a few months now.” She smiled a thank you at Chuck, knowing he did this to make sure she would have time to talk to Claire privately.

  “Okay ladies, we’re going to go and catch us some fish for dinner. You stay here and figure out how you’re going to cook them up for us.”

  Claire and Kay sat huddled on the porch, their heads nearly touching as Kay told of her recent encounter with Fizzor. Claire’s eyes were big and her breath came in gasps as she listened to the story unfold.

  Every so often one of them would pause to watch Jamie, Harley and Chuck down on the dock, amazed that Chuck could hold the boy’s attention for such a long time. The Marshal apparently had infinite patience for putting worms on hooks and untangling lines. And Harley wore himself out barking at fish swimming too close in the deep water off the end of the dock. Jamie was beside himself every time something grabbed at the bait until finally they successfully landed a fish. Everyone stopped what they were doing to exclaim over the fish until finally Jamie and Chuck went back to catch some more.

  Claire and Kay were glad for that break in their conversation. It seemed that they were so depressed over what had happened they appreciated the return to normalcy triggered by Jamie’s joy at catching a fish.

  When Claire recounted her story both women felt numb from the horror of those senseless deaths. More carnage added because Phoebe was determined her plans would succeed. It seemed impossible that one person could have caused so much grief and horror and yet, seemingly be immune to feeling any guilt or remorse for the havoc she caused.

  “She was a beautiful looking woman,” Karen said, shaking her head perplexed. “She looked normal.”

  “But she wasn’t. She was a monster. She was more than evil, because she apparently didn’t even have any concept of the difference between good and evil.” Claire couldn’t stop the spontaneous shiver which went up her backbone. “Thank God she didn’t have children to pass on her values.”

  Karen stared at Claire a moment. “Thank God!” she said fervently.

  The fishermen clomped noisily up the stairs to the porch with the results of their efforts and everyone was happy to troop into the kitchen to decide what to do with the catch. It wasn’t until later, after Jamie was finally tucked into bed that the three of them could start the discussion about the future.

  “Do you really think it would be safe for me to resume my life again?” Kay was hopeful, but reluctant to believe it was true.

  Chuck understood her concern. This was her life, and her son’s life they were discussing. He replied slowly, “I’ve talked to my colleagues and the FBI and we’re all of the opinion that there are no more assassins out there now. Fizzor has been immobilized and with Phoebe gone there is no one interested in paying for anyone to pursue you. It’s a business you know, a deadly, horrible business. But these hit men work for money and with no money available none of us think you need to watch over your shoulder any longer.”

  Claire nodded her head. “That’s what happened to my friend Kristen. Remember, the one I told you about on that long drive up to Bayside? She became a target because she was a witness to a murder. But when the murderer was killed, his father, who had hired the assassins, cancelled the contract on her. So she was free to be herself again.” Claire remembered and frowned. “But she didn’t go back to her old life. She said since she had been publicly killed in order to protect her, it would be too difficult to convince people it never happened. She decided to continue on in the new life she had made for herself.”

  She leaned forward and said earnestly, “But Karen, I think it’s different for you. You could be you again, couldn’t you?”

  Karen nodded, thinking. “I could go back to New York.” She turned and looked at Claire. “I could go back to California with you. We could live near you and Dad. That would really be good for Jamie.”

  Chuck and Claire watched her face as she pondered her choices.

  “I could just stay in Applecorners. Nice people live here. I’ve made a life for us here.”

  “Could I make a suggestion?” Claire asked and, seeing their nods, she continued. “Jamie said you were on vacation, so why not continue the vacation and go back to California with me. When your dad gets home we can all discuss this situation and help you decide what you want to do. You can even contact your mother for her input. I know you will both appreciate that. You don’t have to rush into a decision right now, does she, Chuck?”

  Chuck smiled his agreement. “What a good idea, Claire. Let’s do that.”

  Kay, or Karen, looked relieved, nodding. It was decided.

  CHAPTER 47

  “Come on Jamie, Poppa will be coming home soon. Leave Harley with Tuffy-Two. They’ll be fine while we’re gone.” Karen was holding the back door of the SUV open for Jamie, who was reluctant to leave Harley behind.

  Claire got into the driver’s seat trying to contain her excitement. It seemed forever since Jack left for his training exercise and she had missed him. She had so much to tell him and she couldn’t wait until he saw Karen and Jamie. He was going to be thrilled.

  Finally Jamie was buckled into his booster seat in the back and Karen got in and buckled up. When they
arrived at the airport Claire pulled into the garage and found a space in the short term parking section.

  “Does Dad know you’re coming to pick him up? Did he call?”

  “No, he didn’t call, and I usually just pick him up outside. But today I thought we’d go in and surprise him.” They all scrambled out of the car and followed the marked walk to the terminal. Claire stationed them near the bottom of the escalator where they would be certain to see Jack as he came down to the baggage and the passenger pick-up area.

  Jack was almost to the bottom when his eyes met Claire’s and a smile spread over his face. He stepped off the escalator and moved to the side towards her when she saw his eyes widen with surprise and he looked down at the little boy clutching his legs. She saw him do a double take. Then his face paled and he reached down and scooped Jamie up into a hug. When Karen came close his arm wrapped around her and they all held on tight. As Claire approached Jack looked at her with a wonderful smile. Even though he was blinking rapidly he still couldn’t keep the tears from rolling down his cheeks. He had no more arms free, so Claire just stepped close and put her arms around all of them. They totally ignored the rest of the world as passengers separated and moved around their tight group as if they were only a rock in the middle of a stream.

  “I can’t believe this.” Jack’s voice was taut with emotion. He was trying not to burst into sobs of joy. “How did this happen?”

  “We think it’s over, Jack.”

  “Dad, they say I can live a normal life again.”

  “Poppa, I caught a big fish and we ate it for dinner.” Jamie’s bid for attention caused them all to smile.

  “Let’s go home and you can tell me all about your fish, “Jack said. They sorted themselves out and headed for the car. They had lots of stories to tell and little Jack, now called Jamie, wanted to show Poppa how Harley could fetch the ball.