Evening Hours

by Mary Lynn Baxter

  “It appears both have disappeared.”

  “Damn,” Cutler muttered.

  “But I haven’t given up on them. We’re still checking their residences every day.”

  Cutler nodded, his lips tight. “What about the priest? How are we doing there?”

  “Somewhat better. I’ve found an ex-worker at the abortion clinic who thinks the priest doesn’t walk on water. I’m supposed to speak to her this afternoon.”

  “If she knows anything, do whatever it takes to get her to testify. As you know, we have zilch. And now wouldn’t be a good time to get crucified in court. No pun intended.”

  “Right. Speaking of campaigning, how’s that going?”

  Cutler snorted. “I wouldn’t know. If I beat Gilmore, it sure as hell won’t be from trying.”

  “You’ll beat him,” Angel said with assurance. “He’s so full of hot air I’m surprised he stays on the ground.”

  In spite of his foul mood, Cutler laughed. Then he sobered. “I got a disturbing phone call this morning from a civil rights lawyer I’ve never heard of. Remember Cullen Bryant, the man I put on death row?”

  “Yep.”

  “There’s a chance he might be retried.”

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you have an airtight case?”

  “I thought so at the time, and I still do, but you never know.”

  “No, you don’t,” Angel said, “especially if you get a judge like Jenkins to hear the case.”

  “And that could very well happen.”

  “When it rains it pours, doesn’t it?”

  “Yep. The main thing about that particular case is his family. They raised so much stink the first time around, I can just imagine what’s going to happen now.”

  “I’m here to tell you, it’ll be a three-ring circus.”

  “And Gilmore will be the ringmaster.”

  Angel nodded. “I couldn’t agree more. So put on hip boots and be prepared to wade in knee deep.”

  “Meanwhile, you pull the files so I can start reviewing them, making sure I didn’t miss anything.”

  “Consider it done.”

  The phone rang into the sudden silence. Cutler jumped, then cursed.

  Angel smiled and rolled his eyes.

  “McFarland,” Cutler snapped into the receiver.

  After listening, he felt the color drain from his face.

  “What?” Angel asked as he picked up on the changing mood.

  Cutler dropped the receiver back into the cradle, knowing his face was devoid of color. “The verdict’s in on the drowning case.”

  “Think we won?”

  “I’m not betting on it, are you?”

  Angel laughed with no humor. “Not in this lifetime. And certainly not with your luck.”

  “Don’t you mean lack of?” Cutler’s smile held no humor either.

  “Yeah.”

  Cutler grabbed his briefcase. “Come on, let’s go. Prolonging the misery won’t change the verdict.”

  Thirty-Five

  The interrogation had been a disaster.

  As a result, Kaylee couldn’t be more frustrated or confused. Or angry. Her insides churned so that she actually felt nauseated. That would never do, she told herself, striding out of her office to the break room, where she helped herself to a cold beverage. After downing several sips and walking back to her office, she felt better.

  Not wanting any interruptions, she had told her secretary to hold all calls except from Cutler. She needed quiet time—thinking time, if you will. When she had broached the subject of the amphetamines with the girls, they had sat like stoic statues.

  Still, she wasn’t giving up. With Cutler’s help and Sandy’s and her vigilance, they would get to the bottom of this.

  After taking another sip of her cold drink, Kaylee glanced at her watch. She had a meeting with Emily Austin, the Ford Agency rep, in a little over an hour. They planned to put the finishing touches on the schedule.

  Despite the unexpected upheaval with the drugs, everything appeared to be on-target. She just prayed that the frayed seams would hold together until the show was over. Hopefully by letting the girls know she was privy to what was going on she had put the fear of God in them.

  Since her accident, Kaylee had learned to live in the present. She saw no reason to change that philosophy now.

  The phone buzzed. Ah, the verdict must be in. Only it wasn’t Cutler on the other end, but rather her secretary. “Mr. Rush is here and insists on seeing you.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Send him in.”

  Seconds later a dapper-looking Drew opened the door and walked in. She met him halfway and gave him a hug.

  He pulled back and smiled at her. “My, but you’re looking good. There’s a spark in your eyes I’ve never seen before.” His smile widened. “Yep, married life definitely agrees with you.”

  “I have no complaints.”

  “And I’m thrilled.”

  Kaylee thought for a minute, then asked in a serious tone, “Are you really?”

  Drew made a face. “Absolutely, my dear.”

  Kaylee wished she really believed that, but she didn’t. “Do you have time to stay for a while?”

  “If I’m not interfering.”

  “It wouldn’t matter, Uncle Drew. I’d make time for you.”

  He sat down and she offered him something to drink. He turned her down. Afterward, a silence fell between them. She noted a slight strain in the atmosphere, which she hated.

  “I can’t wait for the big night,” Drew said with enthusiasm.

  With almost too much enthusiasm, Kaylee thought. Or was she just overreacting to him and the fact that she was wedged between him and Cutler?

  “I can’t either, though I’m so nervous.”

  “Ah, don’t be. You and your agency will shine brighter than gold.”

  “If that’s the case, I’ll be able to pay you back in full.”

  A scowl removed the animation from his face. “I told you I don’t want that money back. It’s a love gift.”

  “I know what you told me, but I can’t accept that.”

  “Yes, you can. You’re a giver and that’s good. But it’s also good to learn to receive with the same grace.”

  “Wow, Uncle Drew, I’ve never heard you speak so eloquently. I’m impressed.”

  He gave her a sheepish grin. “Did get a tad carried away, didn’t I?”

  “A little, but it made me feel good.”

  “That was my intention all along.”

  They both chuckled, which helped remove the strain from the air. But only for a minute. Another silence ensued and the tension returned.

  “You’re here for a reason,” she said, giving him a piercing look.

  “I’m not sure I like your ability to read me so easily.”

  “Sorry,” she said mildly.

  His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. They remained dark and unreadable. “I just wanted to set the record straight.”

  “Please, Uncle Drew, I don’t want to be between you and Cutler.” Even to herself, her voice sounded anxious.

  “I understand,” he said with even gentleness. “And that’s not my intention at all.”

  “Good.”

  “I want you to know that I’m not doing anything illegal.”

  “I believe you.”

  He looked taken aback. “You don’t know how good that makes me feel.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “Cutler, I’m sorry to say, doesn’t feel the same.”

  “I know.”

  “He’s out to ruin me, Kaylee.”

  She grappled for a decent breath. “You said you wouldn’t put me in the middle, but that’s exactly what you’re doing.”

  “How much did he tell you?”

  Kaylee didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “About the two of you?”

  He nodded.

  “Only that he found out that you were his birth father, a fact I find as unbelievable as I do b
izarre.”

  “I can understand that.”

  Another silence.

  “So he shared no details?” Drew pressed.

  “None. But then, I didn’t ask. I sensed the subject was much too painful for him to discuss.”

  “I never meant him to find out.” His features twisted.

  “I don’t know what to say, Uncle Drew.”

  And she didn’t. There was so much about Cutler she didn’t know. Maybe time and longevity of marriage would take care of that. And maybe not. There might be areas of Cutler’s heart where she would never be welcome. She feared that was because he didn’t love her.

  “I guess that’s because there’s nothing else to say.” Drew stood, reached for Kaylee’s hand and helped her up. Then he looked deeply into her eyes. “I won’t pretend I’m a saint. We both know better than that.”

  “None of us is.”

  “Please, then, keep Cutler in bounds. Don’t let him throw everything away by his vendetta against me.” Drew flicked her on the chin. “I’m counting on you, you hear?”

  “I’ll do my best, Uncle Drew,” she said, wondering if her marker had just been called in.

  “You have mixed feelings, don’t you?” Kaylee asked Cutler.

  “Of course, even though I think she was guilty as hell.” Cutler’s features were grim.

  Kaylee shuddered. “I simply can’t imagine what was going through her head when she held those babies under the water until they could no longer breathe.”

  “Nor can anyone else.”

  “Do you think she’ll get the death penalty?”

  “I’m not going to ask for it.”

  “I’m glad.”

  He smiled and pulled her into the crook of his arm. She nestled closer, basking in the warmth and security of those arms. While she was definitely rejoicing in his victory, it was a double-edged sword, especially for Cutler.

  After the verdict had come in, Cutler had wanted to get out of town, knowing the media would be tracking him. He had opted to head to the ranch.

  For two days they had done nothing but eat, drink, swim and make love. It had been a wonderful getaway weekend. They had agreed that discussing work was taboo. Until now they had not broken that agreement.

  Now, following a long bout of lovemaking, she asked, “Mind if I cheat?”

  “Depends on how you want to cheat.”

  She made a face at him. “You know.”

  “You’re excited about the show and want to talk about it.”

  “Right. But a pact is a pact.”

  “I’ll give you a little leeway, okay?”

  She ran her hands through the hair on his chest. “Thanks.”

  He moaned. “Ah, that feels so good.”

  She smiled, thinking again how much she enjoyed being married to this strong yet tender man.

  “Two more days and your agency will be on the map for sure.”

  “Let us pray. While I’m about to burst with anticipation, I’m also scared to death.”

  “That’s to be expected. But the evening will be perfect. The girls will be perfect. It’ll be a night to remember. And when it’s over, we’ll celebrate with a few bottles of champagne.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  “You betcha.”

  She gave him a come-hither grin. “Think you’re up for a precelebration?”

  He laughed, then grabbed her.

  Recalling that conversation, Kaylee pinched herself backstage.

  “Hey,” Sandy whispered, sidling up to her as another model stepped out onto the runway. “You ought to be peeing up one leg and down the other.”

  “Sandy!” Kaylee exclaimed under her breath, though she couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across her face.

  “It’s okay, kid, you can admit it.”

  “Mentally, maybe.”

  “I bet Cutler is, too.”

  “I know he’s anxious, all right,” Kaylee admitted. “Simply because he knows how much this night means to me.”

  Sandy craned her head. “I can see him in the first row. He’s looking proud as punch.”

  Kaylee smiled. Cutler’s presence and support wrapped her in a blanket of security. “He’s my rock.”

  Sandy giggled. “And some rock he is, too.”

  “He is gorgeous.”

  “And he’s yours.” Sandy winked. “Which makes it all the better.”

  “Right on.”

  Sandy grinned, then switched the subject back to business. “So far, everything has gone off without a hitch. The girls are awesome, and the New Yorkers know it. You can see the admiration written on their faces.”

  “Who’s had time to notice?” Kaylee asked in an astonished tone.

  “Me,” Sandy said in a lofty, unapologetic tone. “In between changes, that is,” she added with a grin.

  “Let’s go to the back of the audience for a sec,” Kaylee said. “Tonight of all nights, I’d like to see what the patrons see.”

  “Let’s do it.”

  They had been standing in the back only five minutes watching the parade of lovely girls up and down the platform when it happened.

  At first Kaylee had no idea what had caused all the commotion. Then she saw Barbie crumple on the runway, blood flowing down her back.

  Then a cry rose from the audience. “Oh, my God, she’s been stabbed.”

  Thirty-Six

  Kaylee still couldn’t believe what had happened, even though she was now at the emergency-room waiting room in the nearest hospital surrounded by scores of people.

  Actually the room was a zoo.

  Besides the models and staff, her dad was there, as were Cutler and his parents.

  The only one significantly absent was Drew. She knew he’d been at the show, but he had obviously thought better of making an appearance here. His absence didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except that Barbie cling to life. And next was that she, Kaylee, maintain her sanity amidst the insanity.

  Cutler would see that she didn’t crash under this tragedy.

  Thank God for him, she had told herself countless times already. Following the pandemonium that had broken out after the hideous incident, he had taken charge.

  At first she’d been so shell-shocked she couldn’t respond, but then her adrenaline had kicked in and she had done her part in calming the models, who had been beside themselves with panic. Sandy had also jumped in and done her part, as though realizing that Kaylee needed to get to the hospital ASAP.

  Once the ambulance, police and crime scene crew had arrived, Cutler had whisked her off the premises and they had headed to the hospital, where they now awaited word on Barbie’s condition. She had been in surgery for several hours.

  “What’s taking them so long?” Kaylee wailed to Cutler, who hadn’t left her side for one second.

  “Hey, she’s exactly where she should be. In the hands of competent surgeons.”

  “I know. It’s just that I’m so frightened.” Her voice broke.

  He drew her to his side. “Sure you are, sweetheart. Maybe she’ll pull through. Don’t give up yet.”

  Kaylee shivered, seeking his warmth through his shirt. He felt so big, so secure, so perfect. In that moment she couldn’t imagine her life without him.

  She peered up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. “Have I told you lately how much you mean to me?”

  They were off to themselves, which was a blessed relief, although everyone was subdued with the exception of the media. They were buzzing about, asking questions that no one could answer.

  Kaylee certainly couldn’t. She couldn’t comprehend how or why this had happened. Or who had carried out such an act of violence. She knew that would be the second question Barbie’s parents would ask when they arrived.

  Somehow she had found the strength to call them herself. The next hurdle she had to jump was questioning by the police.

  As for the fallout from the incident—well, she couldn’t begin to cope with that yet, mentally or physic
ally. Later the brutality of it would penetrate her dulled senses.

  “Why don’t I get you some coffee?” Cutler whispered against her temple, still holding her against his side.

  “No,” she whispered back. “I couldn’t keep it down.”

  “Speaking of down. You need to sit.”

  “I can’t do that either.”

  Cutler sighed. “That’s probably a good thing, as here comes Ken Sowell, chief of detectives.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “Are you up to him questioning you?”

  “Do I have any choice?” she asked, a slight tremor in her voice.

  “Yep.” He kissed her temple. “Remember, I’m the D.A.”

  She knew he was trying to interject a light note into the otherwise shattering moment, but she couldn’t respond to that either, though she appreciated his efforts.

  After somber introductions were exchanged, Sowell said, “There’s an empty room adjacent to this one. Let’s go there and talk.”

  They followed the big, burly detective into a sterile room, where they sat at a small dining-like table.

  Sowell cleared his throat. “Let me say up front, ma’am, how sorry I am about what happened.”

  It was obvious he was uncomfortable with the job he had to perform. Kaylee figured that discomfort stemmed from the fact that the big boss was there. And though he didn’t mean to be, Cutler could be, was intimidating.

  “Thank you, Detective,” Kaylee managed to say, but not before clearing her own throat.

  Cutler squeezed her hand as if to pump her with courage. “Let’s keep this brief, shall we?”

  The officer’s weathered features paled a bit more. “That was my intention, sir.”

  “Good,” Cutler muttered, still not cutting him any slack.

  “Mrs. McFarland, do you have any idea who’d want to hurt Ms. Bishop?”

  Kaylee was appalled. “Of course not.”

  “You think it was one of the models?” Cutler asked.

  “Don’t you, sir?”

  “Yes, since it’s highly unlikely someone wandered in off the street.”

  “What we need is the motive.”

  “That is it, Detective.”