“I’m telling the truth,” Lily shouted. “Bobby Hernandez wasn’t the rapist. I—I killed the wrong man.”
“You blew away an innocent person?”
“Hernandez wasn’t innocent. You said it yourself. He was head of one of the most violent street gangs in the county. They killed for fun. He and four of his buddies raped and murdered a young couple. They shoved a tree limb up the girl’s vagina. They played target practice on her breasts. I was certain he was the man who raped us. It wasn’t until my daughter picked Marco Curazon out of the lineup that I realized I was wrong.” Lily stopped and sucked in a breath. “Are you satisfied now?”
“I’m never satisfied,” Anne told her, releasing Lily.
Lily placed her palm on her forehead. “If you want to call the police, be my guest. All I want is my medicine. Where did you put the Vicodin?”
“I’ll get it,” Anne said, limping to the kitchen and removing a glass from the cabinet. She turned her back to Lily, then shoved her hand into her pocket and brought forth a small vial of Versed. Pouring several drops of the liquid into the glass, she filled it up with tap water.
The doorbell rang and Lily saw Hank Sawyer through the peephole.
“Don’t answer it,” Anne said, grabbing the glass of water and the bottle of Vicodin.
Lily flung open the door and shoved her hand inside Hank’s jacket, snatching his service revolver and spinning around to face Anne. Before the detective could stop her, she pulled the trigger and fired. The explosion was deafening.
When Lily turned around, expecting to see Hank, Anne rushed toward her, coming from behind and placing her in a choke hold.
They both heard a loud crash and jerked their heads around. The sliding glass door was shattered. Mary Stevens had her arm extended, her gun trained on Anne. “FBI. Release Judge Forrester or we’ll blow your head off.”
Hank had circled around to the back of the house. He reached through the broken glass and unlocked the door. Two officers quickly stepped through.
Mary yelled, “Put your hands over your head where I can see them. If you have a weapon, put it on the floor, then kick it towards me.”
Anne had a strange look on her face, surprised but accepting. Knowing the officers could open fire at any moment, Lily dropped to the ground. She grabbed Anne by the ankle, trying to pull her off her feet. Anne turned to the side, flailing her arms around as she struggled to maintain her balance.
A barrage of gunshots reverberated throughout the room. Anne was blown off her feet, landing on her back with her arms stretched out at her sides. Blood squirted out of a gaping hole in her chest. There was another gunshot wound in her upper thigh in the location of her femoral artery. Anne only made one sound, a barely audible whimper.
Mary Stevens holstered her weapons. A slew of county sheriffs, FBI agents, and Ventura police officers swarmed the room. Lily heard the police dispatcher’s voice squawking from one officer’s portable radio. People were barking orders, and feet shuffled on the hardwood floors. A moment later, police sirens pierced the night air.
Lily crawled over to Anne, thinking of the unspeakable acts she’d committed, the untold number of lives she had destroyed. Anne’s face had drained of all color, and something was gurgling in her throat. Although Anne’s eyes were slowly closing, Lily had heard the last thing to go was a person’s hearing. “They’re waiting for you in hell, Anne. Did you wait until your victims were dead, or did you start butchering them while they were still alive?”
Someone was speaking. Lily looked up at the tall woman who had arrived on the scene with Hank Sawyer. She must be the FBI agent Mary Stevens. “Let us take care of this, Judge Forrester,” Mary told her. “The paramedics will be here any minute. Are you injured?” She knelt down and placed her hand underneath Anne’s body, pulling out the silver portable phone Anne had stuffed in her jeans. “Damn, it’s a phone. I was certain she was reaching for a gun.”
Lily linked eyes with her. “Have you ever killed anyone before?”
“No,” Mary said, swallowing hard. “I should have aimed for her arms or legs like Sawyer did. I felt certain she was armed. You may not know it, but this woman is our serial killer. Her real name is Katherine Collins. She’s killed at least four men, maybe more.”
“I figured it out from the search warrant,” Lily told her, horrified at the thoughts she’d had about Anne. She’d kissed her, for God’s sake, even fantasized about what it would be like to make love to her. “I just didn’t figure it out soon enough. How did you know she’d be here?”
“A deputy from the sheriff’s office spotted her at the Thousand Oaks house earlier today. Once we executed the warrant, we found three bags full of evidence linking her to the homicides. We broadcast a description of the car, and a helicopter spotted it parked in front of your house. She must have intended to use you as a hostage.”
Lily knew that wasn’t true, but there was no reason to reveal the truth. The paramedics were working furiously over Anne. Now she had something else to feel guilty over. If the things Anne had said were true, which appeared to be the case, Lily had inspired a young girl to become a murderer. She saw Mary staring at Anne’s feet, and watched as a line of perspiration appeared on her forehead. “She told me the injuries were caused by frostbite. You know the rest of the story.”
“Can you imagine a father abandoning his child like that? He’s the one who deserves to be shot. Shit, how did she even walk?”
“Don’t feel sorry for her,” Lily cautioned, a wise look on her face. “You’ll have enough trouble sleeping as it is. She was her father’s daughter, remember? In cruelty her actions even surpassed his. She was also attractive, intelligent, and resourceful. Regardless of what happened to her as a child, she didn’t have to become a killer. If she killed four men, she deserved to die. She was a brutal, unremorseful murderer. And regardless of how much evidence you found, there’s no guarantee she would have been convicted. Keep reminding yourself of these facts and you’ll be okay. Oh, I must have shot her in the leg. I stole Hank’s gun and fired it at her.”
“You were acting in self-defense,” Mary told her. “There won’t be a problem. What I’d like is for you to go to the hospital. It’s obvious you’re in pain, Judge Forrester. Hank said you got into a physical confrontation with your husband this afternoon as well.”
“All I need is my pain meds.”
“Go to the hospital. We’ll all feel better if you do. You’re very fortunate, you know,” Mary continued. “Many people who cross paths with a sociopath like Katherine Collins don’t come out of it alive.”
Lily refused Mary’s offer to help her to her feet. She stood on her own, watching while the paramedics continued their fight to save Anne’s life. When they stopped CPR, it was obvious the battle was over.
She went outside into the yard. Her emotions ran the gauntlet. She was glad it was over, but shaken by the things Anne had told her. Had anyone else witnessed her shoot Bobby Hernandez? She would live the rest of her life looking over her shoulder and wondering.
“Fine, I’ll go to the hospital,” Lily said, seeing Mary standing beside her.
Another team of paramedics arrived with a gurney. When Mary directed them to Lily, they came over and began checking her vital signs. Her legs were trembling, so she climbed onto the gurney and lay down. Once she was loaded into the ambulance, her thoughts turned to Bryce. He had told her the truth all along, but she had believed a stranger rather than her own husband. Sure, he’d acted awful when he’d come to the house today. If she’d been falsely accused, she probably would have acted the same way. The bottom line was still the bottom line, however. Bryce may have been enticed by Anne, but he had been more than eager to jump on a plane and fly to Las Vegas to have sex with her.
The afternoon with Chris Rendell passed through her mind. Would she have slept with him if she hadn’t believed Anne’s story about Bryce? Certainly not, she told herself, feeling a sense of self-righteousness. Was she being pe
rfectly honest with herself? Of course not. No one ever admitted their shortcomings, and it was impossible to know how she would react until the situation presented itself. She had cheated on John with Richard Fowler, something she deeply regretted. Chris Rendell was another notch on her sin belt. All this talk about adultery, and she appeared to be the only guilty party. Now she would never get out of purgatory.
“What’s the best narcotic for pain?” Lily asked the fresh-faced paramedic as the ambulance hit a bump in the roadway. “I want to be numb, understand? I want to go to sleep and not wake up until the pain is nothing more than a memory.”
“Dilaudid should do the trick.”
“Dilaudid it will be, then.”
“The patient doesn’t decide which drug they will receive.”
“I’m a judge,” Lily told him, deciding she could use her position to her advantage. “Oh, and be sure to have the hospital call Shana Forrester, my next of kin. Her number is in my wallet. A mother should have her daughter by her side at a time like this, don’t you think? Have them tell her I was involved in a situation where someone was killed, and I’ve asked her to come right away.”
“No problem.”
At least one good thing would come of all this, Lily thought, adjusting her position on the gurney. She knew Shana wasn’t too busy with her studies to come and see her.
Safely inside the ambulance, Lily experienced an overwhelming sense of relief. She had faced a killer and survived. How could she complain about a little pain?
Then she remembered Gabby.
With the officers coming and going, the dog could have run away. “I’ve changed my mind,” she told the paramedic. “Just take me back to my house. I have to take care of my dog. I have a bottle of Vicodin. That’s all I need.”
“Are you sure? Your house is a crime scene. I doubt if the police will let you stay there tonight.”
“Then I’ll drive myself to a hotel.”
“What about notifying your daughter?”
Lily smiled. “It wouldn’t be right to frighten her. Once she hears her stepfather is out of the house, she’ll jump on the next plane.”
The Cheater Page 34