Smith reached for his elbow to help him down into the motorboat and Doug allowed himself to be led. Seated in the front, he was aware that knowing what was going on might not be enough to save his life. It was important, though, to keep them thinking he believed every bit of their charade. “You guys know that this charge is bullshit, right?”
“Hey?” Smith lifted his hands, going for the motor. “We just work here, you know.”
His right hand was out. That was enough. But there were two of them and they were big guys with guns. When would be the right moment to make his move?
The motor came to life and they moved out on the water. Doug had a feeling they didn’t dare ditch him too close to Marathon, so that meant they’d need to get rid of him soon. Really soon. He was going to have to take his chance. If he could go for one of them, go for a gun, that would be best. But he could also wind up with a hole in his gut. Best just to make the plunge, dive in far and deep. In the darkness, they might just start shooting. And they might make a lucky hit. He just didn’t have many choices.
He coiled where he sat, knowing that he was going to have to move like wildfire. He counted the seconds, getting ready. Then, his chance came, but in a way that set his heart sinking, his mind so numb with fear that he was barely able to take the opportunity.
A sudden darkness pitched over the water as the resort went into a blackout. Smith and Jones were both looking toward the little isle. It was his chance. And he was desperate.
He jerked to his feet, kicked Smith a hard blow in the back, sending him over. Before Jones could turn, he’d made a dive himself. He went deep, heard the pinging sound of bullets wildly flying by him in the water. He swam hard, deeper. The water was dark and cool. He tried to gauge the direction to the isle. His shoulders burned and then his lungs, but he stayed deep, not emerging until he had gone a good distance and was unable to keep himself from gasping for breath. He could hear the men back on the boat.
“Shit! Think we got him?”
“Do you see a body, asshole?”
“Can you see anything? It’s too damned dark.”
“We’ve got to find him.”
“We just go back to the isle and get him.”
“Hell, no! Someone might have called the real cops by now.”
“How, idiot? We cut the phone lines.”
“Cell phones, idiot.”
“We’ve got to get him or we’re dead ourselves.”
“Do what you want, idiot.”
“All right.”
Doug heard a gunshot, then a plop in the water. He didn’t know if Jones had killed Smith or if Smith had killed Jones. And frankly, he didn’t care. The motor revved again. Doug watched and waited, then thanked God for the one small favor. The boat was moving away from the island, so he began to swim again, as hard as he could.
CHAPTER 28
The second the door closed, Kelly headed for the phone on the kitchen wall. She still didn’t understand why he wanted her to call the cops when the cops had taken him away. Calling Quinn, though, that made some sense.
She hesitated at the phone. Doug had been a cop. Were the men who had come for him…not real? Could anyone have planned such an elaborate setup? Lance Morton, to get even? Surely even Lance knew that his performance that afternoon was on tape. He’d definitely provoked the attack.
She lifted the receiver. The phone was dead. Ice filled her veins. She rushed into the living room, to the table where Doug had tossed their wet and useless cell phones. She tried her own, praying it would work, then picked up his. Nothing. Both dead.
A sense of hysteria seized her. Dead. Dead as a doornail. Dead as she was intended to be. And Doug…
Her heart was in her throat, her limbs frozen. She had been terrified in the car last night, but this knowing that she was being stalked was worse. And Doug…He had let them take him without protest to buy time for her?
She jumped, screaming, as she heard a thud against the back plate-glass doors.
“Kelly!” She heard her name, recognized the voice. Mel. She walked toward the rear, knowing that she couldn’t open the door, disturbed by his tone.
“Kelly, for the love of God!”
There he was. Light from the room played out on the porch. He was in slacks and a T-shirt, amazingly casual attire for Mel. He raised his hands, banging them against the glass. “Kelly!” His whole body was nearly flush against the glass. She was ridiculously reminded for a moment of Jim Davis’s hapless Garfield, crushed against a window.
“Kelly!”
She shook her head, then gasped as something emerged from the dark behind him. Blood splattered against the glass. Mel’s mouth formed into an O. There was an earsplitting explosion of sound and the glass shattered. Mel fell into the room with a crystal rain of glass shards. And then the lights went out.
The dock was empty when Doug reached it. Exhausted, lungs and limbs burning with his effort, he pulled himself onto the deck. He rose, thinking that the generator lights should have kicked on. But they hadn’t. Someone had found out everything they needed to know about the island, all about the electricity, the phones and the emergency generators.
The darkness was complete. He made his way through it, desperate to reach the room. And Kelly.
“Kelly, Kelly, Kelly!” She heard her name in a heinous, bitter, almost whining whisper. It was a sound that crept right into her body. He was there, right before her, standing in the pool of shattered glass. But she couldn’t see who.
Her mind was working desperately. He had a gun, but he hadn’t shot Mel. He had struck him, causing blood to spatter. Then he had used his gun to shatter the glass. He wanted to terrify her and would use the gun if he had to.
She had to use the darkness to her advantage. As she inched back silently, she heard a footstep over the shattered glass.
“Sometimes I watched you, Kelly, and thought what a wonderful actress you are. Just an actress. But then I watched you and knew. You are her, Marla Valentine. You loved telling women what they should do with their men. You loved it because that’s the way you are—cruel, rejecting, thinking that the fools who fall all over you should then have to pay. You believe it, Kelly. Every word of it.”
She kept walking backward. Silently. She didn’t think he could hear her movement because he remained dead still. He was relishing his words, believing he could smell her fear. He was convinced that he had time, all the time in the world.
And why not? The others were surely gathered at the main house. They’d probably been in the dining room when the lights had gone out. Someone there was keeping them together, finding flashlights. Someone there certainly had a phone that worked. But even then, it would take time for help to get to the island. So the killer knew he had some time to play. Like a cat with a mouse, he had time to torment his victim.
“Oh, Kelly, you and I both know that the woman who walks around pretending to be nice isn’t the real one. It’s Marla who’s real.”
At last she could feel the door behind her. Biting her lip, she turned, feeling for the chain, clenching her teeth as she slipped it free, desperately trying to keep the movement silent. She barely dared breathe. She finally got it, but sliding the bolt would make noise. She had to be ready.
“Poor Kelly. Nowhere to run. Well, hell, you’ve made me show my hand. But they’ll never know. Do you know why? Because I’m careful. I know what I’m doing. I plan it out.”
She drew the bolt, jerking the door at the same time, and ran out. A bullet whizzed past her head and thunked into a palm tree. She ran, not toward the water, but toward the trees and the brush.
Doug came around the back, stealthy and silent. He trod upon the darkened beach and headed through the darkness for the rear sliding doors. As he did, it suddenly clicked in his mind. What he had seen in the numbers. What the calls had meant. Why addresses of connections to pay phones had actually made tremendous sense, though they had appeared random.
He inched toward the rear and stepped
on the glass. As he backed away, he heard a moan. Inching forward, he saw the body on the floor. For a moment, his heart leaped. He hunkered down. It was Mel, with blood on his forehead and all around him. But he was breathing, still breathing.
He couldn’t stop to help him or even attempt to ascertain the injury. He paused, dead still, listening, and knew after a moment that the room was empty. He was growing accustomed to the dark and could see that the door in the front was open. Wide open.
Kelly burst into a thicket of palms and tall brush. There, she went dead still. There was help, at the main house, if she could get to it. But he would follow her. He would start shooting, probably. Did he dare? Everyone would see him. What would it matter? She had seen him. She knew. He had to kill her now.
She listened. At first, there was nothing. Then footsteps. Light footsteps, but with enough weight to cause the ground to rustle. He was coming closer.
Doug moved through the house, going upstairs and to his suitcase. His Smith & Wesson tucked in his waistband, he moved back down the stairs. Someone was moving in the house. At the foot of the stairs, he listened, waited. Then he made his move. With a sudden leap, he brought the night prowler down.
“Don’t! Don’t hurt me. It’s not me, I swear. I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t hurt her!”
It was Lance Morton.
Crack. Rustle. Crack. Rustle.
“Kelly, Kelly, Kelly…come out and play! You know, your pretty boy was so clever, but there were just things he didn’t know.” There was suddenly a sound of laughter. “I can see you, Kelly. Stand up and face the music!”
The gun was pointing at her. She stood. He came closer, smiling. “See, Kelly, there’s a lot people don’t know, because money is power. Money can buy anything. Money buys people and it buys silence.”
“It just never bought you anyone who actually cared about you, right?” she asked, keeping the conversation going. How long did she have?
“Ah, Kelly, we could have such a conversation. I never wanted it to end like this. We should have had time. You should have understood. But this is rather dramatic, don’t you think? The police will be here soon. And I’ll be long gone, of course!”
“Someone will pick up your pseudo cops, you know,” she told him.
“I don’t intend to let them live that long,” he said. “Ah, Kelly! You really are such a pretty thing. I did dream of running my fingers thought that hair of yours before…well, you know. But I’m afraid—”
She had no idea if it would work or not. None. She just knew she was about to be shot. She bent over and snapped out one of her best, toughest yoga moves.
Her foot slammed into his wrist. The gun flew into the foliage.
“Bitch! I am going to strangle you slowly!” he swore.
Kelly ran.
“Get up, you idiot! I know it’s not you!” Doug snapped, dragging Lance Morton to his feet. “Get out of here. Run out of the room, making as much of a commotion as you can. Shout, call out names, make a racket.”
“Me! There’s a maniac with a gun out there—”
“Damn it, do it! Run fast.”
Lance stared at him.
“You know who it is because he told you to pick a fight with me today so that he could get rid of me. If you didn’t do what he asked, he was going to shut down your video, right?”
“Bull! You came after me—”
“Get out. We haven’t got time for this! Now! Or I’ll shoot you!” Doug threatened.
Lance stood where he was.
“If he gets to her…” Doug warned, taking a step toward Lance.
“I’m going. I’m going!” Lance burst out the door, screaming. “Kelly, Kelly Trent. Hey, Kelly, anyone!”
He must have really expected a bullet, because he ran as if his pants were on fire, wildly waving his arms in the air. Behind him, Doug slipped out and headed into the brush. Just beneath the sound of Lance’s wild gyrations, he could hear the brush moving.
She ran hard, then came to a dead standstill when she heard the commotion. Lance Morton! The idiot! Creating so much noise! And…stopping her pursuer, she realized dryly.
But Lance wasn’t bright enough to do that on his own. Her heart took flight. O’Casey. Somehow he had made it back.
She quickly weighed her position. She’d been forced around to the beach side and she couldn’t make it to the house unless she went around the entire wing of the building—or slipped out into the water.
She shivered. The ocean at night. The ocean when she couldn’t see. The darkness. Yes, the ocean, she thought, and started to run.
She had nearly reached the water when she heard the thunder of feet directly behind her. She turned and there he was, ready to leap upon her. She screamed. His face was twisted with fury, and she realized that he had expected to bring her down far more quickly and with far less effort. He was about frothing at the mouth, his weight slamming her down in the damp sand. The surf washed over them both.
“I poisoned your damned dog, Kelly. How’d you like that? The little yapper old Dana had went out like a light with one kick. That was part of it with you, Kelly, did you know that? You’re still young. While she…she was old. She’d been at it a long time. The bitch! She was a bitch when she had my kid and gave him up, and didn’t even tell me for years. Not until she could get something out of it. You do understand, don’t you? She’d gone after me because she was young then, young enough to see me in jail. That was what she threatened. Then she came back into my life. And the funny thing was, I still wanted her. Even though she was older. Even though she’d been screwed by that idiot she married. Because she had steel in her. She could manipulate in a way that was exciting. She was something different, sexy. But you know what I found out? This time I wasn’t going to let her get me. She’d been playing the trump card for far too many years. I had to shut her up—with my bare hands. Damn that felt good. Every time I heard someone sound like her…well, it became a challenge. But you, Kelly…you had me pulled in long before I knew that Marla Valentine was real, long before Matt told me about the real you.”
“Matt!” Terrified, feeling his weight, feeling his spittle against her, she was not just playing for time, but truly amazed. “What does Matt have to do with this?”
“Well, he’s my son, of course.”
“Your son!”
“Dana was already blackmailing me, you see. Years later, knowing that it could never be traced or changed, she told me about him and I started seeing the boy. I’d already been watching you for so long at that point. And I knew that you were another of them, the worst of them. And when he told me what you did to him, I knew that you really were Marla Valentine. And I knew that, whatever it cost, whatever I had to do, you had to go.” His face went taut and grim suddenly. “And now it’s time.”
His fingers curled around her throat, tightened. She tried to scream but could only choke out a sound. Then the grip eased. She realized that someone had Logan by the hair and was trying to rip him off of her. There were feet near her head, right when she heard the words, “Get the fuck off her. Now!”
A sudden shove of heavy weight crushed over Kelly, nearly causing her to black out. Then the weight was gone and the men were rolling into the water. They staggered up and Marc Logan was staring at Doug in amazement. He hadn’t expected him to survive.
“You all right, Kelly?” he asked, his gun trained on Logan.
“Yes.” It was a croak at first. “Yes!” she repeated firmly.
Logan shifted, his body movement bringing him closer to Kelly again.
“Stay away from her. I mean it. I could do a whole Dirty Harry thing here, you know. Frankly, I’d like to shoot you, but I was a cop once, and cops are supposed to make arrests, not be judge and jury. I do have something of a temper, though, especially where Kelly is concerned. And hell, I’m not a cop now, so keep your distance.”
Logan continued to stare. “You’re not going to shoot me.”
“No?”
Loga
n grinned. “Don’t you realize by now that I’ve been in that apartment? How do you think that animal got the poison in his food. Check out your weapon, muscle boy. No bullets.”
“You know what, Logan? You have really lost it. Patting yourself on the back all this time for your incredible cleverness. But you’re not so clever. There’s no way in hell you’ll get away with any of it this time.”
“Yes, there is. Money can buy anything.”
“You’re wrong,” O’Casey assured him.
“Anyone can be bought. I’ll bet even you have a price.”
“Again, you’re wrong.’ Cause guess what, Logan, money isn’t everything.”
Logan laughed. “You talk a lot of shit for someone without a gun. So how are you going to stop me?”
“You don’t have a gun, either. Face it, Logan, I can knock you flat.”
Logan started to laugh, hunkering down, almost as if he were just going to sit in the sand. “Thing is, muscle boy, I do have a weapon!” He reached for his calf and came back to his feet suddenly, brandishing a knife. “Always prepared.”
He made an instant feint for Doug.
“O’Casey. Watch out!” Kelly cried inanely. Doug had hopped back, agile, quick, but Logan was gearing up to lunge again.
Kelly rolled quickly, going for his legs. Logan eluded her, but Doug was ready. He spun around, left foot slamming out. He caught Logan hard in the gut. Logan staggered. Another lightning-quick blow disarmed him. He faltered back and made a lunge for his knife, but Doug stepped on it. The man began to run.
“Ah, hell!” Doug said, and went after him.
Down the beach, he tackled Logan. He did have one hell of a right jab. Logan went still, and Doug rose slowly, coming toward Kelly. He reached down, helping her up. She was trembling.
“He hurt you?”
Killing Kelly Page 30