Ending Evil (The Evil Secrets Trilogy Book 3)

by Vickie McKeehan

  Kit blinked in surprise. “Wait, the two of you?” Her brow furrowed. “That’s why you’ve been spending so much time in his room.”

  “You aren’t upset, are you, honey?” Gloria asked, still gripping Trevor’s good hand.

  “Of course not, but…for God’s sake…uh, my own mother is having…having…”

  Quinn laughed at her attempt to find the right word and finished for her. “Is having a mutually satisfying consensual adult relationship.”

  Kit huffed out a breath. “Right. It’s just that…”

  Feeling sorry for her, Ben walked up and put a hand on her shoulder. “She looks happy to me. I think I approve.”

  Kit sent a sideways glance his way. “She does, doesn’t she? If Ben approves, then I guess I do, too.”

  Dylan grumbled at the change of subject but stared at Trevor as if he were still trying to figure something out. “Okay, just tell us the significance of those gold cowboys then.”

  “Now that I can do,” Trevor said, picking up his empty glass with his good hand and holding it out. “But first you break out the good Irish whiskey. It’s for medicinal purposes. My shoulder’s killing me and I’m tired of relying on anymore of the doc’s drugs.”

  Dylan rose from the table, went to the cabinet, brought out a vintage, dated bottle of Knappogue Castle.

  Trevor’s eyes widened. “Now that’s a drink, mate.” He handed Dylan his glass.

  “I’ll pour all night, but I’m still trying to figure out how you left the scene. You had to have been inside the cars of both women. Before that, you must’ve left your vehicle near Cross Creek, doubled back some way using either mass transit or took a cab, blending into the crowd near the scene of where the two women had their cars parked.”

  Trevor grunted as he took his first swig of the whiskey. “This one thinks he’s a criminalist.”

  “I nailed it, didn’t I?” Dylan prompted, pumping his fist in the air. “I knew it!”

  Trevor snorted and said, “You want to hear the story about the gold cowboys or not?”

  “By all means.”

  “They belonged to Pete Parker, a minted set of twenty-four solid gold miniatures of himself sitting on his favorite horse that the studio gave him as a parting gift when he retired from acting. The set, one for each year Pete spent at the studio, was the only thing his son, Noah, had left that belonged to his father. It seems the old man gave him the set still in the box before he left for basic training. Noah locked it away in a safety deposit box. Good thing, too, since Jessica and Alana got every single thing the Parkers owned and then either sold it at auction or kept whatever they wanted for themselves.”

  Kit shook her head. “Alana keep anything around that came from a western-style ranch? No way. She and Jessica would have disposed of everything like garbage.”

  Trevor nodded. “I’m sure that’s true. Did you know that after they sold the ranch off to a developer, Jessica had the house bulldozed down to the ground and sold off the livestock to a slaughterhouse? Noah found out the information buried in public records.”

  John Griffin shook his head. “I met Pete Parker a couple of times, nice guy. I remember he and his wife had a little boy, must be the Noah you mentioned. Even after old Pete stopped acting, he used to come around the back lot, bring the boy with him. Now that I think about it, the boy was a good rider, loved horses and seemed to worship his dad.

  “You know I’ve had a couple of days to digest all of this. There were a few times I remember Alana and Jessica talked openly about how they’d like to have the Parker ranch and the land. I knew those two women were evil personified but I had no idea they’d actually go out there and murder that nice old couple.”

  “Yeah, well, they did,” Trevor said matter-of-factly. “And I’m fairly certain the entire law firm was in on it from day one. But because Alana is the one who bought the gun, Noah was fairly certain she was there that night and in on the planning.”

  “Oh, she was more than there that night. She’s the one who pulled the trigger,” Kit said.

  It was Quinn who went on to explain. “Our Kit here had a—dream, for lack of a better word, about that particular night.”

  He took in the look on Kit’s face. “Really? Gloria said you were a bit psychic. I didn’t believe it, though.” He couldn’t wrap his mind around that sort of thing. “Anyway, after Noah found out all the partners had shared the millions from the trust and the sale of the land…he was convinced they’d murdered his parents.”

  Jake nodded. “I can indeed confirm the money trail. It must have been what he discovered in county tax records because once Dylan got us inside the network we found evidence in databases where they all took a share from the sale of the Sundown Ranch. With the money, the partners purchased more land adjacent to what they had already started building on in Malibu, some additional twenty acres at a cost of about five-point-seven million. It later became known as The Enclave. From there, they added another series of homes until the compound itself consisted of ten in all, along with the guest cottages.”

  Nick Tyler put his arms around his daughter’s shoulders. “Years later after I became somewhat well known, I remember being invited to that place for a party they called the Boyd Bash. My manager gave me a hard time because I turned down the invite. Think about it, celebrities stayed there from all over the world that weekend, right there on the grounds, sleeping near the bones of those that were sacrificed on their personal altar of greed. Your mother one of those entombed there, Quinn.”

  “Unfortunately I can top that. Kit, Baylee, and I were dragged there on numerous occasions for birthday or graduation parties.”

  Kit raised her hand. “My fault,” she admitted. “I did the dragging because I didn’t want to end up there by myself with those people. Alana allowed it because I refused to go otherwise. And sometimes Baylee’s father didn’t even know we’d gone there because we lied and told him we were going somewhere else.”

  “How could we have possibly known what was there on the grounds,” Baylee pointed out. “We were naïve kids, who might have nicknamed the brothers, The Unholy Three, but had no idea how depraved they would eventually turn out to be. And we stopped attending events there when we were sixteen. All the while, the remains of my mother and that of Quinn’s were a short walk away, down by the pool, a pool I might add we all personally swam in at some point. Makes you wonder if the authorities turned up all the bodies.”

  “That’s a creepy thought,” Dylan said. “Maybe after the cops get done doing their thing, we could hire a private company using ground penetrating sonar, more cadaver dogs, go in and do another sweep, maybe take a look at any other property they own within let’s say a fifty mile radius.”

  “It’ll take some time, but it would probably make us all feel better,” Jake reasoned.

  “Good idea,” Reese stated. “Hard to believe Alana and Jessica stopped killing at, what’s the last count? Six, or is it seven? They got away with all of these murders for a very long time. That has to increase the chance that there are more bodies out there they might not have pinpointed yet.”

  “And don’t forget Cade’s missing hookers. With Cade gone, you do realize we’ll probably never know for certain what happened to all those women, don’t you?” Quinn threw in.

  “Not unless someone stumbles across the bodies, we won’t. We don’t even know for a fact they’re dead.”

  “They’re dead,” Kit stressed, fighting that feeling she always got now that she could “see” things that had happened in the past. It didn’t happen with everything. After all, she hadn’t expected her father to show up. That had come out of the blue. But she had staunchly held on to the belief over the years that he’d never died. Scanning all those eyes directed at her she quickly added, “Don’t ask.”

  While Jake kept his arms around Kit, Gloria stood up, went to her daughter. “You and I both know those girls are in the woods, buried somewhere on property Cade owns.”

 
Kit simply nodded.

  Trevor cocked his head, stared at both women. “You’re kidding? You said Kit was the psychic one, you didn’t say a thing about you.”

  But Ben suddenly hugged Gloria and revealed, “Make it three. I’ve always had an intuitive side to me, saw things I didn’t understand at the time. All my life it felt like a part of me was missing. Now, I’m thinking that ability might run in the family—through my mother.” He leaned in and kissed Gloria’s cheek.

  “Some psychic I turned out to be, though. I didn’t know about my own beautiful boy here.” Gloria dabbed at a few tears that wanted to spill over and run down her cheeks. She laid her head on Ben’s shoulders. “I hope you stay on for a while and let me get to know you better before heading back home to Ireland. This little bit of time we’ve had, isn’t nearly enough for me.”

  Gloria wrestled with something else. “It’s sad that Jake won’t get a resolution to Claire’s murder. It will remain open on the books, unsolved, without knowing it was Cade.”

  Reese frowned. “Even though he’s dead, we could still try to find something with his DNA on it. Submit it for a comparison with what St. John has.”

  “That’s an idea,” Jake said. “I’d like to go that route. I want it solved to Max’s satisfaction and off the books for good.”

  Trevor shook his head, and stared at Gloria. “You really are psychic?”

  “Intuitive might be a better word for it. Kit’s ability is much stronger than mine ever was. It was Kit who had the vivid dream about the Parkers, the dream Quinn mentioned.” She tilted her head to study him. “That dream about the Parkers led us to know for certain Alana and Jessica were involved.”

  “At the time we didn’t have much to go on, not even a name,” Jake disclosed. “It’s fair to say, we were all more than a little skeptical in Kit’s ability.”

  “Imagine, from one reprehensible deed that night, an empire was born that nurtured and condoned murder whenever it suited their purposes simply because two evil women wanted it that way,” Trevor philosophized.

  “And it took all of us to bring the evil to its knees,” Reese acknowledged, raising his glass of whiskey in salute. “Here’s to a job well done.”

  CHAPTER 26

  The marine layer and notorious June gloom disappeared only to turn into a simmering, hot July.

  The lure of a cookout, the promise of a stellar Fourth of July fireworks display over the San Madrid harbor had brought everyone out to Crandall House once again.

  They had a lot to celebrate.

  This time, the fear and unease that had dominated the past two months had dissipated. A slew of childhood nightmares had eased. Not altogether, maybe, but enough so that Kit, Baylee and Quinn could began to look forward to a different kind of future, a future minus so much pain and anger.

  By ending the evil that began on that hot August night so long ago before they’d ever been born, the three women had turned a corner of sorts.

  They could finally take that first step to putting their self-doubts to rest, as well as all those deep-rooted nightmares. Old habits might be difficult to break, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be done—eventually.

  On the last day of June, Baylee said her final goodbye to William Scott. The man had slipped peacefully away without ever getting another chance to say anything more about Sarah Moreland’s death or what part he played in keeping it secret.

  Dylan had watched as Baylee stood at his bedside in agony wanting so much for the father she loved to wake up and explain more. But in the end, William kept whatever secrets he held about Jessica and Alana to himself.

  Even though she wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do, Baylee decided to bury him next to Sarah, the woman whose memory had haunted him for over two decades. Maybe if there were a resolution in death her father would find it for himself.

  At the urging of both Kit and Ben, the next day, John Griffin had turned himself in to the authorities. Later that afternoon, it had been his children who accompanied him to the home of David Foster’s family.

  There, John had finally admitted to the boy’s mother and her other children that he had been the one responsible for taking the life of her youngest son that day on Benedict Canyon, a day that had forever sealed John’s commitment to Alana and Jessica. Because after that day, the three of them had entered into a series of evil schemes and wicked acts, each of which, had altered a number of lives thereafter. Their bond had certainly unleashed the chain of events that led to Kit’s growing up tormented by the likes of Alana.

  John Griffin’s hearing had been scheduled for August. He was looking at either a year in county lockup or six years in state prison. Either way, he’d have to pay for what he did. Any defense attorney worth his salt though would suggest he plead guilty in exchange for the sentence in county.

  Together Kit and Ben stood by their father, but whenever he grumbled, his children would simply remind him he got off light.

  Even though the police were skeptical of their story of how exactly the boat blew up, they could find nothing to contradict that version. The Boyd brothers had brought explosives onboard the Sea Warrior from another warehouse they owned and the police later discovered its existence in Thousand Oaks, filled with weapons and all kinds of explosives.

  Days later, they officially closed the investigation and went on to other, more pressing, cases.

  During that time, Quinn made plans to visit Lisa Redfield’s mother in Santa Barbara and get to know a grandmother she’d last seen at the age of thirteen months. Even though she definitely didn’t remember the woman, she wanted that connection to a part of herself she had never before experienced.

  Something about knowing she’d had family less than a hundred miles away made her angry and wanting resolution. It hadn’t been necessary for Quinn to spend all those early years in dirty motel rooms with a heroin addict for a mother. It was all just one more lie to add to a growing list, a list Alana and Jessica personally put together.

  Consequently Quinn desperately wanted to get to know Lisa’s mother, sample a small taste of what real family ties might be like, tangible enough to reach out and touch another person who had known Lisa Redfield.

  Thanks to numerous long-distance telephone calls she had also assured Nick’s mother in Dublin, a grandmother she remembered only slightly from dreams that she would gladly take the trip over to Ireland for a long visit just as soon as she could manage taking time off.

  While Reese, Jake, and Dylan appreciated the fact Trevor had helped put an end to a nagging problem that had spiraled out of control from the beginning and put the women they loved in harm’s way, they also learned something new about themselves.

  If they were forced to do it all over again, they could and would cross the line in order to protect the people they loved.

  It wasn’t until the first fireworks speared into the night sky and reverberated with pops and blasts that Reese was able to pull Quinn aside and get her alone. “I not only got you back on rotation, I got the hospital to agree there would be nothing noted about what happened in your personnel file.”

  “I know and I don’t even have to go before the review board. I already got my notice from Mendenhall I’m back on rotation starting tomorrow, my last free night before insanity.”

  “But you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  She grinned. “No, I guess I wouldn’t.” She glanced over at Nick Tyler sitting in a circle of lawn chairs, deep in conversation with her friends. “Would you look at him? I can’t seem to get him to leave.” She laughed. “He might be here a while. He’s even making plans to go on rounds with me as soon as I give him the go ahead, especially to visit the pediatric cancer ward and visit those who are going through chemo.”

  “I heard he agreed to donate a substantial amount to the brand-new children’s wing at the hospital. Besides, I don’t think you really want him to go anywhere.”

  Her smile grew wider. “No. It really is nothing short of amazi
ng to have him in my life now. My father, who knew? I didn’t think it was possible to stop hating him, to let go of all that anger. I owe that to you for pushing me, for making me take that step.”

  “You’d have gotten there one day.”

  “No, Reese, I don’t think I would have. And to know my mother had this incredible talent as an artist is—inconceivable. She wasn’t a drug addict, but a sweet-natured artistic type that happened to trust the wrong people. It’s amazing, isn’t it? After all these years, Kit gets a mother and has her father back in her life.” She glanced over at Gloria and Trevor. “She might even have a new stepfather soon. It seems the only one of us who loses is Baylee. She lost her father and her mother all over again.”

  “She held up well at the service for both of them. With you and Kit for support, she’ll do just fine.”

  “She will. And let’s not forget Dylan. He really is this remarkable source of energy for her. We all need that.”

  Reese toyed with a few strands of her hair as he brought her closer. Picking up her hand, he kissed the palm. “We make a pretty good team, too, Tyler, or haven’t you noticed?”

  Wary, she inched back to look up into those gray eyes, so cool, so calm. “I’ve noticed. It scares me. The only team I’ve ever been a part of for any length of time is what I’ve had with Kit and Baylee. We both know that isn’t the same thing, Reese. I don’t do well in relationships. I’ve never had one.”

  “So you want to go on like we have been? Nothing serious, just hitting the sheets.”

  She tightened her jaw. “I don’t see why not.”

  “I would agree with that, except for one little thing.”

  “What’s that?” She was afraid she already knew. In spite of the fear tightening her stomach muscles she really wanted to hear him say it, hoped like a kid at Christmas he’d use the L word first.

  “I’m in love with you.” His arm snatched her around the waist, bringing her up to eye level. “I want you to marry me, Tyler. I want the whole package.”