by Janet Dailey
“I did,” Arthur volunteered. “It was a brandy.”
“Right.” Lucas nodded as if remembering. “I know when the phone rang a few minutes later, I dropped the glass. I thought it was Rina calling back, but it was Susan.”
“Did you answer the phone?” Bannon questioned.
“No, I did,” Delaney said. “It was Susan. I recognized her voice. She asked to talk to Lucas.”
“What time was this—approximately?”
“It must have been between eight and eight-thirty,” Lucas replied after a short pause. “I remember it was dark outside.”
“What did Susan say to you?”
“She was calling from somebody’s house. If she told me whose, I don’t remember it. I have to be honest, I wasn’t paying a lot of attention. My mind was still on Rina.” Lucas sat back and nervously rubbed his hands over his thighs. “Susan wanted to drop some papers by for me to look over. It had to do with a painting that she had shown me a couple days earlier. I told her that was okay and hung up. Unfortunately…” He sighed and cast a look of regret at Delaney. “I didn’t bother to mention she would be stopping by. It didn’t seem important, I guess.”
Bannon offered him a nod of benign understanding. “Then what happened?”
“Riley and Arthur left right after that—”
The attorney interrupted him to say to Riley, “That’s when you went to relieve the man in the drive so he could eat.”
“Right.”
“And I tagged along to get some fresh air,” Arthur put in.
“Which left you and Delaney here alone,” Bannon concluded.
“Yes. We talked for a little bit. I remember I apologized—”
“Apologized?” Bannon said.
“I had yelled at her earlier, for no reason other than she was handy and my nerves were shot. Anyway, right after that, I suggested going on the deck for some fresh air.”
Turning sideways in the armchair, Bannon looked behind him at the living room’s wall of glass and the deck beyond it. “When you say you went out on the deck, I assume that’s the one you mean?”
“Yes.”
The attorney stood up. “Do you mind going out and showing me approximately where you were standing?”
“If you think it will help.” Lucas pushed to his feet.
Delaney followed them out the door, with Riley, Wyatt, and Arthur on her heels. Outside, Lucas hesitated only briefly before crossing to a point along the rail. “I think this is it.”
“Delaney, do you concur?”
When she walked over to look, she saw the distinctive yellow tape used by the police to rope off a crime scene. It was strung around a wide area of the brick path, marking the area where Susan had been shot. There was a white outline of a body on the ground. Delaney stared at the spot where Susan had lain, seeing her again in her mind. She felt the sick, cold feeling coming back and mentally shook it off again, detaching herself from her emotions.
She checked the angle from the deck to the walk, visualizing the way it had been that night. “Another six inches this way, I think.” She shifted her position and nodded. “This is it.”
“Sorry—” Lucas began.
“Not necessary.” Bannon waved off the apology. “It’s a moot point anyway. Go on with your story, Mr. Wayne. You came out here and stood at the rail.”
“We talked. Or, at least, I talked and Delaney listened—”
“Excuse me,” Bannon interrupted. “What about outside lights? Were there any on?”
“The lights along the walk and shrubbery were on. They operate on a timer and come on automatically at eight o’clock,” Lucas explained. “But none of the deck lights were on.”
“All the living room lights were on full bright,” Delaney inserted.
“I see.” He glanced from their position to the walkway. “Which means the two of you would have been clearly visible to anyone coming along the path. Sorry. Go on. The two of you were talking, then what?”
“I happened to glance that way. I don’t know why. Maybe I saw a movement. Anyway, there she was—”
Bannon held up a hand to stop him again. “Do you have any idea how long you’d been out here talking at that point?”
Lucas frowned and glanced questioningly at Delaney. “What would you guess—five minutes? Ten?”
“In that neighborhood. It wasn’t very long, I know that,” she agreed.
“How did Susan get here? Did she drive?” Bannon directed his questions at Riley.
“She walked.”
“Which explains why they didn’t see any headlights or hear a car,” he said, nodding his head. “And by then you were at the entrance to the drive.”
“Wyatt and I both were.”
“I see. And where were you, Mr. Golden?”
“Walking,” Arthur replied. “I had gone with Riley down to the road. He and Wyatt started talking and I was too restless to stand around, so I wandered back toward the house.”
“Did you see Susan St. Jacque, either when she arrived or when she walked up to the house?”
“No.” Arthur shook his head. “I guess I was somewhere around the garage then, or maybe in back of the house. I know that’s where I was when I heard the shots.”
“You’re getting ahead of me, Mr. Golden,” Bannon said with a smile, and turned back to Riley. “So tell me what happened when she arrived.”
“She said she had some papers she needed to leave with Lucas and I passed her through. I remember thinking at the time that I should have given my radio to Delaney,” Riley recalled with a touch of grimness. “Hers wasn’t working that night, so I couldn’t notify her that Susan was on her way to the house.”
“Then you thought Delaney and Mr. Wayne were still inside? You didn’t know they were on the deck?”
“No. This area can’t be seen from the drive. It’s blocked by bushes.”
“And vice versa, it seems,” Bannon murmured after checking to see if the driveway’s entrance could be seen from the deck. “I wonder how Susan knew you were out here—how she knew to come along this path instead of going to the front door. Can this deck be seen from the front walk?”
“Easily,” Riley answered.
“Tell me, Riley, how did Susan seem to you? What was her manner?”
“She seemed in a hurry, but other than that, there was nothing to make me suspect there might be trouble.”
“All right—now, back to you, Mr. Wayne. You glanced at the path,” he said to allow Lucas to pick up where he’d left off.
“I glanced at the path and I saw her—only I thought I was seeing Rina. In my mind, that’s still who I see. I don’t know why I thought Susan was Rina. Maybe it was the blonde hair or the leather pants. Most of Rina’s clothes are made out of leather, suede, or fur, and she never wears anything under them. She has some fetish about wearing animal skins against her flesh.” Lucas lifted his head, his look intensely serious. “But if I could make a mistake like that when I’ve known Susan longer than I’ve known Rina, then it makes sense that Delaney would mistake her for Rina, especially when she had a gun. And she did have a gun, Bannon. I saw it. I don’t know why the police couldn’t find it.”
“I’ll tell you why they couldn’t,” Arthur spoke up. “Incompetence. Sheer incompetence.”
Bannon silenced him with an upraised hand. “Go on. Mr. Wayne. You saw the gun.”
“I told Delaney it was Rina and she had a gun.”
“Delaney was standing there with you?”
“She was facing me…and away from the path. As soon as I said that, Delaney pushed me down to the deck and told me to get in the house. I scrambled for the door on my hands and knees. I heard the shots. By the time I reached the door—”
“How many shots did you hear?” Bannon asked, and Delaney felt herself tensing in anticipation of his answer.
“Four. I think it was four,” Lucas replied, and her heart sank.
“It’s your turn, Delaney. Pick up the story from y
our side after Mr. Wayne told you he saw Rina and she had a gun.”
“I pushed him down and told him to get inside. At the same time I turned, drawing my weapon. Before I was completely around, I saw a gunflash and heard a—”
“Wait a minute,” Bannon stopped her. “Riley, would you mind going down on the walk and standing in for Susan? I’d like to do a little reenactment here, establish places and positions.”
“Sure.” Riley walked over to the steps that led off the deck, then followed the intersecting side path to the main walk. He ducked under the tape and went over to the general area of the body.
“Turn your back to him, Delaney, and show me what you did, when you saw what,” he instructed.
She turned her back to the path, closed her eyes and let the images run through her mind, acting them out. “With my left arm, I pushed Lucas down as I turned, pulling my gun. She shouted, ‘Bastard’ and her voice was hoarse.” Delaney stopped in mid-motion. “I was about right here when I saw the flash from her gun.”
“Approximately where did the flash come from?” Bannon asked, then added, “I recognize daylight is something of a handicap, but try to remember how it was that night in the dark. Riley,” he called to him. “Assume what you think Susan’s firing position would have been.”
Delaney held her angle while Riley shifted his stance, both arms outstretched, his hands clasping an imaginary gun. “Not there.” She closed her eyes, summoning the image again. “The flash came from the outer edge of that bush on the far side of the walk. It was lower, too.” She opened her eyes. “I think she must have fired from the hip.” Obligingly, Riley lowered his right arm to simulate that position. Delaney frowned. “It was still lower than that.”
“Riley is taller than Susan, which probably accounts for the difference. Go on.”
“The next instant is when I actually saw her. By then I was firing. After she fell, I kept her covered until Riley got there. Wyatt was with him,” she remembered. “I told him to call the police and an ambulance, then bring the emergency kit from the house. Then…” Delaney moved from the rail and crossed to the steps leading to the path. “I went down.” She stopped. “Do you want me to continue?”
Bannon nodded. “Do exactly as you did that night,” he said and went down the steps behind her, followed by the others.
She stopped at the point where the two paths intersected. “I came this far and saw Riley crouching beside the body.” Riley assumed his position that night. “Arthur was there, too.”
“Mr. Golden.” Bannon motioned him toward Riley.
Delaney waited until Arthur had maneuvered under the barrier and joined Riley. “I tried to ask if she was dead, but I couldn’t get the words out. Riley told me he couldn’t find a pulse, that she was dead. That’s when I threw up,” she admitted with a trace of chagrin.
“Perfectly natural.” Bannon gave her arm an assuring pat.
“Riley said the same thing when he came over. He also told me it was Susan, not Rina. I didn’t believe him and went to look.”
With a nod, Bannon indicated that she should continue acting out her role that night, and raised the barrier higher to allow her to slip under it. “Riley, am I correct in assuming you were by the road when you heard the shots?”
“Wyatt and I were both there.”
“And, Mr. Golden, you said you were behind the house when you heard them?”
“Right, although at first I didn’t realize that’s what they were,” Arthur said. “There was this pop-pop-popping sound. I thought somebody had set off firecrackers. It wasn’t until I heard someone shouting—I don’t know who—that I realized I must have heard gunfire.”
“How many shots did you hear?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention to the number. There were several. They came right on top of each other. Three, four, five, maybe more, I don’t know.”
“What about you, Wyatt? How many did you hear?”
Wyatt stood next to Lucas Wayne. “Five.”
Delaney realized that Bannon had deliberately not asked how many shots she had fired, eliminating the possibility they would be influenced by her answer, thereby forcing them to rely on their own memory even if it conflicted with someone else’s.
“And you, Riley.” He put the same question to him.
“Six, for sure.”
She could have kissed him.
“All right, Delaney, you checked the body and saw it was Susan.” Bannon made a circling turn with his fingers, prompting her to continue.
“Right after that, I think I asked Riley why Susan would try to kill Lucas. At that point, we looked for her gun. We didn’t see it near the body. Then we heard the sirens. The police—”
“Hey!” Toby lumbered up the path toward them, his heavy features drawn in a scowl. “You better get outta there. The policeman’s gonna be mad when he catches you. Nobody’s supposed to go inside the yellow lines.”
“It’s all right, Toby.” Lucas stepped forward to intercept him. “The police gave them permission to go inside.”
“But the policeman told me nobody could go inside, Luke,” Toby insisted.
“I know he did.” Lucas nodded patiently. “But this is Mr. Bannon and he’s helping Delaney, so the police said it was all right.” He glanced apologetically at the attorney. “I’m sorry for the interruption. This is Toby Williams. He—he helps the groundskeeper look after the flowers. And he’s very conscientious about doing what he’s told.”
“That’s good.” Bannon smiled at Toby. “And you were right to tell us we shouldn’t be in here. But the policeman did tell me we could—just this one time.”
“If you say so.” But Toby didn’t look entirely convinced. He continued to watch them as if he expected them to do something else wrong.
Ignoring him, Bannon turned back to Delaney. “When you didn’t see the gun near the body, then what happened?”
“Nothing. The police were there and I assumed they would find it when they searched the area. I knew she had a gun. If anything, I thought it had been thrown out of her hand and landed farther away in the flowers or the bushes along the walk.” She looked around, still half-expecting to see it lying somewhere. “I don’t understand why they didn’t find it. It makes me wonder how thoroughly they searched.”
“They went over the whole area with a metal detector,” Wyatt volunteered. “I watched them.”
“And I watched them the next morning,” Arthur said. “That’s when they were looking through all the bushes. I guess they thought the gun might have become lodged in some of the branches. I remember this evergreen bush”—he walked over to a spreading shrub that stood chest-high to him. “Every time they pushed the branches apart, they were jerking their hands back and swearing. I guess the needles were sharp.” As if to see for himself, Arthur pushed down one of the thick-growing branches. “Hey, look! There’s something in there.”
Bannon checked the movement Riley made toward the shrub. “Better let me.”
Approaching the shrub, he took a white handkerchief from his hip pocket and wrapped it around his right hand to protect it from the needles. He crouched in a squatting position and pressed down the branch that Arthur held. Delaney watched him, inwardly straining closer as Bannon peered into the shrub’s thickness, the seconds crawling by.
“It would seem, Mr. Golden, that you have stumbled across the missing weapon,” he announced with a calm Delaney envied.
“Are you sure?” She was almost afraid to believe this incredible piece of luck.
“Very.” Still holding the branch down, he said, “Frank Johnson was on duty down by the road. One of you get him and bring him here. We’ll need a pair of gloves and something to use for an evidence bag, too.”
“I have a pair of driving gloves and there’s plastic bags in the kitchen. Will they do?” Lucas asked.
“That’ll work fine.” Bannon nodded. While Wyatt radioed Vance to send Frank Johnson to the scene and Lucas went up the steps to
the deck, Bannon made a closer inspection of the gun’s hiding place. “I wonder how it could have gotten so far back in the bush. It would have to have been thrown with considerable force, unless…” Experimenting, he moved the branch up and down. “Interesting. Each time the branch moves, it works itself back a little deeper. Which might explain why they missed seeing it.”
When the policeman arrived, Bannon showed him the location of the weapon and explained how they had chanced upon it. Using gloves, the officer retrieved the gun and slipped it into the plastic storage bag.
As soon as the policeman left with the new evidence, Arthur rubbed his hands together in satisfaction. “I think this calls for a celebration. With the gun found, they will have to drop the murder charge against Delaney. Let’s all go in the house and have a drink. I don’t give a care what time of day it is.”
Smiling, Bannon took Delaney’s arm and guided her out of the cordoned area. “We have every reason to be optimistic that this whole business will have a quick and favorable outcome. The gun definitely supports your claim that she was armed. However, call me superstitious, but I don’t believe in celebrating prematurely, so I’ll pass on that drink.”
“It’s still a tremendous relief to know the gun’s been found,” Delaney said. “Now it’s more than just my word and Lucas Wayne’s.”
“You were sweating that a little, were you?” Bannon asked, his eyes twinkling.
“Yes.”
“So was I,” he admitted with a faint grin.
“I just realized something.” Arthur stopped halfway up the steps to the deck. “Now that the gun has been recovered, what do we do about the funeral on Wednesday?”
Bannon frowned. “What about the funeral, Mr. Golden?”
“Should Lucas send flowers or not? I know the woman tried to kill him—for whatever reason—but she is dead and we have to put the best face on this we can. I don’t want Lucas to come off as being hard and callous.” He frowned as he tried to figure out what would be best for his client’s image. “You’re a local, Mr. Bannon. Do you have an opinion?”
The attorney shrugged. “I don’t see what harm there would be in sending flowers, although I think it would be inappropriate for Mr. Wayne to attend the funeral.”