The Deadliest Game

by H E Joyce

  Laura took one swig, then another. ‘What the hell are you talking about? He never had a daughter.’

  Michael’s face was serious. ‘I’m afraid he did. She had her name changed some time ago to Anderson, apparently.’

  Laura stood there, fixed to the spot, his words swirling around her brain. Patrick? A daughter? No, it wasn’t possible. This wasn’t happening.

  ‘Do you have any other revelations you’d like to share with me?’ she said.

  Michael didn’t respond.

  There was no way that Patrick had a daughter. She would have known. They were together for years; married for years. How could she have not known that? She glared at Michael. He was lying, she was sure of it. Playing games, just trying to...Wait a minute.

  ‘Did you say Anderson?’

  Michael nodded.

  ‘Isn’t that’s Jody’s new teachers name? Are we talking about her? Are you trying to tell me that your girlfriend is Jody’s new teacher?’

  He nodded. ‘I’m sorry.’

  This was getting more absurd by the minute. ‘And you’re saying her previous name was Beth...’

  ‘Mitchell,’ he interrupted.

  He wasn’t making it up; she could tell. He was deadly serious.

  ‘No! This isn’t happening, Michael,’ she said, moving slowly to the table. She sat down. ‘Why wouldn’t he have mentioned having a grown-up daughter? It doesn’t make any sense.’

  Michael shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe he was ashamed or something. According to Doyle, she was in some kind of institution – mental problems.’

  ‘And she’s the one that’s been making all these phone calls and threats?’

  He nodded. ‘It seems so, yes. I had no idea it was her, you have to believe me.’

  Laura’s mind was reeling. ‘I don’t know what to believe anymore,’ she said. ‘I just don’t know.’

  Sixteen

  There was so much to take in. Laura told Michael to go into town for a drink, anything, as long as he wasn’t around her. She needed time to think.

  She would liked to have been able to hide away somewhere and digest it all, but it was Thanksgiving eve, she had Jody to consider and also her sister. So instead, she carried on, preparing the turkey and vegetables for the Thanksgiving dinner. Sally’s nap had thankfully turned into two hours and had given her valuable time in which to think.

  Once she had finished in the kitchen, she pulled a coat over her shoulders and stood out on the porch. The wind was becoming stronger and she could hear the waves crashing against the rocks as she huddled against the wall and lit a cigarette.

  A tap on her shoulder startled her. ‘Thought you’d given those things up.’

  ‘I have the occasional one; you know how it is. Did you sleep well?’

  ‘Too well,’ Sally said. ‘I’m sorry, it must have seemed rude, but I was exhausted.’

  ‘No, don’t be silly, it’s fine.’

  Sally peered out across the bay, hugging her coat to her chest, her hair whipping around her face. ‘It looks like the storm’s building.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s building alright,’ Laura said.

  ‘Hey, are you okay?’

  Laura chewed on her lip watching the black clouds rolling in over the house, fighting to contain it all. And then she turned to her sister. ‘No, no, I’m not,’ she said, finally allowing the tears to roll down her cheeks.

  ‘What is it Laura, what’s wrong?’ Sally gripped her with both arms.

  ‘I can’t...’

  ‘Tell me. What’s going on?’ She hooked a finger under Laura’s chin and lifted it. ‘Has something happened between you and Michael?’

  Laura nodded, the emotion threatening to spill itself all over the driveway.’ He’s been having an affair, Sally.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

  Her eyes met her sisters. ‘It’s true. He’s admitted it.’

  For a moment Sally looked stunned, but then she pulled her in close, wrapping her arms around her. ‘Oh Laura, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. How long has it been going on?’

  ‘The whole time,’ she sniffed, ‘even before we were married.’

  ‘The bastard.’

  ‘I’ve never heard you swear before,’ Laura said, laughing through the tears.

  *

  Michael had driven aimlessly for miles. He didn’t blame Laura for wanting him out of the house, in fact he thought himself extremely lucky she hadn’t thrown him out completely. He would however, be sleeping in one of the spare rooms. It would be embarrassing with Sally staying at the house, but no less than he deserved.

  He eventually ended up in the same bar in which he had last met Beth for a drink. It was just after seven and the place was virtually empty. He sat at the bar and ordered a whiskey; he drank it with one gulp and ordered another. Everyone was at home, spending time with their families, he thought. That’s was why the place was empty. He swirled his drink around the glass and took a slug, the realisation of how stupid he had been finally hitting him.

  The bartender, who had not made any attempt to engage Michael in conversation at all, finally spoke, telling him that the bar was closing early, presumably because there weren’t, and there were unlikely to be, any customers. He paid the bill and left, having had several drinks. As he made his way to the car, he felt his knees buckling and his head whirling in the cold night air. The strong wind buffeted him. He felt numb and his vision was impaired as he fumbled with the ignition key before finally inserting it and starting the car. It jolted forward erratically and stalled as he struggled to coordinate his foot on the gas pedal.

  As he drove along the coastal road, the car was veering from one side of the road to the other. At times he almost lost control all together, finding himself struggling to steer it out of the gullies on the side of the road. He had no plan as to where he was going, he only knew he could not return home. All he wanted to do was sleep. And tomorrow, who knew what that might bring? Perhaps Laura would forgive him and they could put everything behind them and start anew.

  He wasn’t sure how he arrived there, but Michael found himself outside his office in Brooksville. It seemed like a ghost town. He glanced at his watch and tried to focus; it was almost eight. The sea was becoming wilder by the minute, the boats were being tossed around, the waves were high and the spray from them was reaching the main street. Debris rolled along the road as he fumbled for the key to open his office door. He tumbled in, slumped across his desk, and with his thoughts spiralling erratically, he slept.

  *

  Laura told Sally about the calls she had been receiving, the wreath and its attached message, and the chilling threat by the woman who it now seemed was her last husband’s daughter. She told her what Frank Doyle had said to Michael regarding Beth being in an institution for mental problems, though it was not exactly clear to her what those problems had been.

  ‘I don’t like the sound of any of this, Laura,’ Sally said. ‘She sounds like a psychopath to me. How the hell did she happen to end up living in the same part of the country as you – the same town? Not only that, but then she ends up having an affair with your...’

  ‘I know, I know,’ Laura interrupted. ‘It doesn’t make any sense. I could almost cope with it, if it wasn’t for the thought of her being in such close contact with Jody. I mean she’s his teacher for God’s sake. Shit, I think I’m going to be sick.’ She took a deep breath and blew out slowly, then looked nervously at her watch. ‘I wonder where he is?’

  ‘To hell with Michael! Look, stay calm and breathe. Jody’s safe. Stay there; I’ll get you some brandy.’

  ‘You always liked Michael though, didn’t you, ’Laura said, waiting for her drink. ‘Do you think I should give him another chance?’ She felt stupid when she heard the sound of her own words, at admitting that it was something she was even considering. What the hell was wrong with her?

  ‘I don’t know, Laura, perhaps you’re asking the wrong person.’ She handed her
the drink.

  ‘Why didn’t you ever get married, Sally?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, I guess I never met anyone I felt I wanted to share my life with. It’s not so bad living alone you know, you get used to it, and if it’s all you’ve ever known, well, it just seems natural.’

  ‘I must admit, when Jody and I moved here it was great for a while. Oh, I got lonely sometimes, but generally, it was pretty good. I should never have rushed in the way I did. Oh God, what a mess I’ve made of my life.’

  ‘Hey. You shouldn’t blame yourself; you weren’t to know that the two men you married turned out to be pigs. Maybe that’s why I choose to live alone, maybe I don’t trust my own judgement.’

  Laura attempted a smile. ‘I’m glad you came, Sally, I really am. Not just because of all this... I’m just really glad you came.’

  ‘Me too. Look, why don’t you give this detective of yours a call, try to find out something more about this woman?’

  ‘Oh I don’t know, do you think I should? It’s a bit late.’

  ‘By what you’ve told me about him I’m sure he won’t mind. Go on, call him.’

  *

  She paced the floor of her small apartment, biting her nails nervously, taking deep lungfuls of smoke from her cigarette as she did so. She picked up a container for one of the many medications she was meant to take every day for the rest of her life, but threw it across the room in a fit of rage. She had taken them occasionally, but only for the times when she needed to be calm and appear outwardly, and to the untrained eye, perfectly normal.

  Michael could not do this to her and get away with it; someone had to pay. And that person would be Laura. It was all her fault after all, not Michael’s. But it would soon be over, and then Michael would come running back to her. Yes, everything would be alright once Laura was gone, it would just be her, her young brother and Michael. They could be happy together, she was certain of it.

  Beth approached the kitchen drawer and pulled out a knife. It had a broad blade and was about eight inches in length. She looked at it, grinning, as she tested it for sharpness by drawing it slowly across the palm of her hand. She didn’t flinch, she barely felt it cutting into her flesh; she just smiled as the blood began to ooze onto the cold steel of the blade.

  *

  Frank Doyle had no plans for Thanksgiving. It was on such occasions as this that he felt at his most lonely. There was nothing for him in his apartment, no one to stay at home for, and no one to look forward to sharing a turkey dinner with the following day. It was only just after eight and after having fallen asleep in front of the television for the last couple of hours, he was no longer tired. He knew that going to bed would be futile, besides, he would have all the next day to sleep, when everyone would be at home enjoying the holiday, there would be no one around, and even the bars would be closed.

  He couldn’t help thinking about Laura. He had read the fax that Malloy had sent to him about Beth Anderson, her history of mental health problems and perhaps even more worrying, the fact that she was the daughter of Laura’s late husband. The inextricable link between Beth and Laura was beyond doubt and it could be no coincidence that they found themselves living in the same small town. There was no conclusive proof that Beth had been responsible for the threats to Laura, nothing that could be presented to the police, but he knew, and it concerned him deeply.

  He had a feeling in the pit of his stomach, and it wasn’t indigestion. It was a feeling he had experienced many times during his career as a detective in the NYPD and as a private investigator. The feeling wouldn’t leave him; he couldn’t ignore it.

  There was no traffic on the road to Brooksville. Frank drove slowly as the increasing gusts of wind along the exposed road rocked his car, and at times blew it sideways. He was about halfway through the journey when his cell phone rang. He glanced at it and saw it was Laura’s home number. He pulled into the side of the road, slamming on the breaks, and answered the call.

  ‘Laura, hello, are you okay?’

  ‘Hello Frank. Well it depends what you mean by okay. This evening, Michael admitted to me he was having an affair, but I gather you know all about that.’

  ‘Yes, I found out yesterday. I gave him the chance to tell you himself; I thought it best. I’m really sorry, Laura.’

  ‘Well, he only admitted it tonight, and only then after she called again. I overheard them talking. But that’s not why I’m calling exactly. Michael tells me that you found out she is my late husband’s daughter, is that really true?’

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid it is. I’m guessing you knew nothing about her?’

  ‘No, not a thing, he never mentioned having a daughter. So you obviously know about what happened with Patrick and me, I mean...’

  ‘Yes, I’ve known all about that from the beginning, but there’s nothing to reproach yourself for, Laura. It was self-defence, plain and simple. My only concern now is your safety. I’m afraid she’s ill, mentally ill I mean. I met her yesterday, I paid her a little visit to try and make her see reason. I didn’t think it would work and well, it clearly didn’t.’

  ‘Well I’m worried, not for myself you understand, but for…’

  ‘Your son, yes of course, I understand. Is your husband with you now?’

  ‘I don’t know where he is at the moment, and to be honest with you, I don’t particularly care.’

  And why the hell should she, he thought. ‘Make sure all your windows and doors are locked, and if it makes you feel any better, I’m on my way. I’ll position myself somewhere and keep an eye on things.’

  ‘Would you do that? I don’t expect you to, but… You’re a good man, Frank, thank you.’

  ‘Just doing my job, Laura,’ he said, knowing full well he was playing dangerously close to the line.

  ‘By the way, what kind of mental problems did she have?’

  ‘You’re not gonna like it.’

  ‘Tell me; I need to know.’

  ‘Psychotic schizophrenia.’

  ‘Oh hell, that’s just great.’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be with you as soon as I can.’

  He ended the call and in spite of the blustering wind, put his foot down hard to the floor.

  Seventeen

  The cut was deep, and the blood dripped from her hand unnoticed onto the apartment floor. As she paced anxiously, Beth wondered what Laura and Michael were doing. Would they be eating? Snuggling up together in front of a blazing fire? Was Laura still unaware of their relationship? On the phone, Michael had seemed colder than he had ever been towards her, and she, in a fit of rage had said she didn’t love him. But once Laura was out of the way, he would come around, he would eventually understand that they could be truly happy together; she knew he would.

  She poured herself a drink and took a deep gulp. The bourbon burnt as it travelled down her throat making her wince, and she immediately took another, the effect not so pronounced this time. She stripped down to her underwear, put on a suit of a black jacket and trousers and studied her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a mess and she ran a brush through it, then applied foundation and mascara and finally, a thick smear of gloss. It was only then she noticed the congealing blood on the palm of her hand. She quickly bandaged it, and put on a coat.

  *

  They didn’t hear the car pull up outside the house over the sound of the wind, and when the doorbell rang, both Laura and Sally jumped.

  ‘I guess that must be Frank,’ said Laura. She went to the door. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Frank Doyle.’

  She opened the door and the wind howled, blowing leaves into the reception hall. ‘Come on in, Frank, I’m so glad to see you.’

  ‘Everything quiet?’

  ‘Yes, thankfully.’ She led him into the living room. ‘Frank, this is my sister, Sally Munroe.’

  Sally stood, smiled and shook his hand.

  ‘Pleased to meet you, Ma’am. I didn’t know you had company, Laura. Still, I’m glad you’re not alone.
Are you staying for Thanksgiving, Mrs Munroe?’

  ‘Well, what’s going to be left of it. And it’s Miss.’

  Frank nodded. ‘I beg your pardon. I take it you know why I’m here.’

  ‘She knows everything,’ Laura said, ‘or at least as much as I do. It was Sally’s idea to call you. Can I get you something to drink?’

  ‘Well, a beer, if it’s not too much trouble, thank you.’

  ‘I’ll get it,’ Sally said. She disappeared into the kitchen, but quickly returned with an open bottle of Budweiser and a glass.

  ‘So what do you make of it, Frank?’ asked Laura. ‘Do you think she might try something?’

  ‘Well,’ he said, pausing to pour his beer, ‘having met her yesterday, I hate to say it but yes, I think in her state of mind she’s capable of almost anything. I don’t want to worry you unnecessarily of course, but I think you should be aware of the possible threat she poses. She seemed extremely unstable to me.’

  ‘You’re right to warn me.’ Laura turned to Sally. ‘I’m sorry you had to get involved in this mess. I couldn’t have asked you to come and stay at a worse time.’

  ‘Well I’m not sorry, I’m glad I’m here for you… after all, that’s what sisters are for, isn’t it?’

  ‘I must admit,’ Frank said, ‘I’m glad too. I feel a lot easier knowing you have someone with you.’

  ‘I still can’t believe Patrick had a daughter and never told me in all the time we were married. Why would he have done that?’

  ‘His first wife was granted full custody of the child. Perhaps they lost contact? Or, if he knew she was ill, I can only imagine he was… well, ashamed, embarrassed. I guess that isn’t too strong a way of putting it,’ said Frank. He took a swig of his beer. ‘Can this sort of illness be hereditary, Laura? I mean, well, with her father’s violent nature and everything. You know, I just wondered, you being a psychotherapist and all.’