Jacey laughed softly. She then looked down and touched the torn dress with her left hand. “I’m afraid the dress didn’t survive the evening,” she said gently.
“It’s unimportant,” he replied. He tilted his head slightly. “I spoke with Sheriff Monroe in the emergency room. He told me Howard got away.”
She nodded. “He tried to burn the evidence, not that it would’ve mattered.”
“Not considering I received a full confession from Dr. Talbert on Howard’s involvement,” Asher informed her. “He gave the orders for the killings, and he intended to cover any evidence of it at all costs.”
“I’d rather not discuss it anymore tonight,” she said softly. “I’m just starting to feel better after all that’s happened. At least you’re in the clear.”
Asher was silent a moment. “There’s something I wanted to tell you for a long time, Jacey. It’s not really important, but it’s something you may want to know about me.”
Jacey stared at him and held her breath. Her heart skipped a beat with nervous anticipation of something she may not want to know.
“When I met Katie, I was working for the CIA,” he said gently. “All my records were kept classified when I left to protect me and those I loved. It’s because of this lack of information that everyone thought I was some sort of criminal. I can’t divulge this to anyone else, no matter what the town may think of me. Maxwell promised he’d never tell.”
Jacey smiled with a tiny, relieved laugh. “That’s the big secret?” she asked. “I knew that years ago.”
Asher appeared puzzled and tilted his head. “You did?”
She nodded with some embarrassment. “I found some old papers in that box of pictures we went through. I assumed you’d tell me when you were ready.”
Asher rolled his eyes and chuckled softly. “I don’t suppose I have any secrets from you, do I?”
“Maybe one or two,” she replied warmly. Jacey placed her free hand on top of his and played with his wedding band. “Asher?”
“Yes, darling,” he said warmly.
Jacey hesitated without looking up. “Did you know you called me Katie earlier?”
She looked up and met his gaze. He stared at her a long moment. A tiny smile crossed his face.
“I was a little delirious,” he said softly and stared at her hands while gently caressing them. “I should probably apologize for my behavior.”
Jacey forced him to meet her gaze and shook her head. “Don’t apologize,” she said gently while smiling warmly. “I didn’t mind. You’re my best friend, Asher. Although I’ve never said it, you know I love you.”
Asher squeezed her hand then pulled her against him and held her. Jacey clung to him and closed her eyes.
“I know,” he whispered and gently rubbed her back.
†
Asher entered his cabin in the dim light of the table lamp he’d left on earlier that evening. Two days had passed since the incident at the institution, and he seemed to be recovering nicely. He closed the door behind him and tossed his keys on the nearby hall table. He walked across the sitting room and collapsed in a plush chair. Asher looked at his watch then picked up the phone and dialed a number. He waited a minute then smiled.
“Good evening, Jacey,” he announced cheerfully. “It’s midnight. Send Dr. Alvord home now.” He laughed softly. “The poker game went fine. I let them win this time.” He listened then laughed again. “Yes, we had a great time starting rumors about you and Maxwell. Just behave, and give Maxwell a message from me. Tell him I have a wedding band and a shotgun, so he’d better behave.” Asher laughed again. “Good night, darling.”
Asher hung up the phone and sighed. He stood slowly, rubbed his shoulder, and headed for the kitchen. He filled a water container and entered the dark sunroom. He turned on the light. Howard Norad sat in the wicker chair with his feet propped on the coffee table. Asher studied the gun in the mayor’s hand then turned and proceeded toward the hanging plants.
“Would you mind removing your feet from the coffee table? It makes smudges.”
Howard placed his feet on the floor and stood abruptly. “Sarcastic to the very end,” he snapped coldly. “Honestly, I’m not going to miss you.”
Asher set the water container down and nodded knowingly with a tiny smile. “I should warn you, killing me isn’t as easy as you might think.”
“I’ll take it under advisement,” Howard replied and snorted a laugh.
†
8:00 A.M.
Jacey rode her horse to Asher’s house the following morning and dismounted near the fence surrounding the garden. She tied her horse and hurried through the back gate. She had some exciting news and wanted him to be the first person she told.
“Asher,” she announced excitedly. “Wait until I tell you about last night!”
Jacey looked around the garden but didn’t see him anywhere. She turned and hurried toward the sunroom entrance. Jacey opened the door and saw all the wicker furniture was gone. She wondered what happened.
“Asher?” she called and looked around.
She was about to enter the sunroom, when she heard a sharp yell from behind her.
“No!”
Jacey spun around and saw Asher approach from the garage. He wiped his soiled hands on an old rag and smiled broadly. He had startled her, but she suspected he enjoyed those moments.
“The floor’s still wet. I just shampooed the carpet this morning,” he said simply. “So how did your date go with Dr. Alvord?”
Jacey sighed happily. “Oh, he’s wonderful.”
Asher rolled his eyes and pretended to frown though his smile slipped through. “I suppose he stayed all night.”
“No, he’s a gentleman,” she said with a smile then giggled. “I think he’s afraid of you.”
Asher snorted a soft laugh. “Me? Like I could ever harm anyone.” His smile broadened and he appeared pleased. “It’s good to see you this happy. I only hope it turns into something permanent. I like Maxwell.”
Jacey giggled. “He’s not going anywhere. He told me he loves me. Isn’t that great!”
Asher laughed and gathered her in his arms. “That’s wonderful, darling.”
Jacey then pulled away. Her expression became serious. “Sheriff Monroe stopped by this morning,” she said nervously. “Howard was seen in one of the neighboring towns early last night. He may come after you, since Dr. Talbert confessed to you about his involvement. Monroe’s concerned he may try to eliminate you as a witness.”
“If I see him, I’ll be sure to take precautions,” he said with a warm smile. “But I don’t think he’d be stupid enough to come after me.” He placed his arm around her shoulder and guided her along the path in his extravagant garden.
“Do you really think he won’t come after you?” Jacey asked with a nervous smile. “I’d hate to think of you here all by yourself. Maybe you should come stay at my house until my parents return from their cruise.”
He chuckled warmly. “Three’s a crowd. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Asher stopped her near a recently tilled plot of land. A young, weeping willow tree was planted in the middle of the fresh soil.
“You’ve got a new tree,” Jacey said with a warm smile.
“It’ll provide some shade in later years,” he announced cheerfully. “The soil is very rich here, and I’ve blended a special fertilizer.”
“Someday you’ll have to let me in on your secret ingredients,” Jacey announced. “You’re special fertilizer really does wonders for the garden.”
Asher’s smile brightened as he chuckled lowly. “I think I’ll keep that my secret.”
The End
Deadly Institution 2
Holly Copella
Copyright © 2000 Holly Copella
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 0997106425
ISBN-13: 978-0-9971064-2-8
To Aunt Janet & Uncle Kerwin
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Copella Books: First Paperback
Edition 2016
Cover Artist: Daniela Owergoor
Dani-owergoor.deviantart.com
Printed by CreateSpace, An Amazon.com Company
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
Chapter One
The Stony Ridge Country Club was nestled on a large hillside estate along the outer edge of the small, quiet town. The private club was a playground for the wealthy and had every amenity to pamper its elite clientele. There was a large outdoor pool, an indoor exercise pool, numerous hot tubs, his and her spas, tennis courts, and, naturally, an eighteen-hole golf course. Prior to being transformed into the luxurious club, the building was a thirty-year-old summer mansion in desperate need of repair and it was considered an eyesore for years. For the last three years, the country club had been a breathtaking sight even to those who opposed its presence in the small town. Within the evening setting, every light remained lit both inside and out, giving an awe-inspiring view to those within town.
A neatly dressed man in his late sixties, Doyle Cobbler, walked along the empty main hallway while heading toward the back office area. Doyle was a tall, slim man with a full head of thick, white hair.
“Mr. Cobbler,” a woman called from behind him.
Doyle turned and saw a young woman in a tight, black dress with daringly high heels attempting to jog to catch up with him. She was Lea, the hostess from the Men’s Smoking Lounge. She waved a piece of paper as she slowed her approach.
“I have a message for you from your secretary,” Lea announced while handing him the paper. “She called about five minutes ago. I was just on my way to your office to put it on your desk.”
He accepted the paper.
“Bridget said she’s going to be thirty minutes late for your eight o’clock meeting this evening,” Lea informed him while attempting to smooth out her dress from her brisk jog.
Doyle gave her a puzzled look then glanced at the note. “I wasn’t aware that we had a meeting scheduled for this evening,” he remarked then shrugged. “I suppose Bridget would know. Must’ve slipped my mind.” He glanced at his watch. It was a little after seven o’clock. “That still gives me plenty of time to take a steam.” He looked at the attractive, young woman and smiled. “Thanks, Lea.”
“Certainly, Mr. Cobbler.”
“Pretty quiet around here for a Saturday evening,” he remarked.
“Tonight is the museum gala,” she replied simply then offered a polite smile. “I’m surprised you and Mrs. Cobbler aren’t attending the party. I hear half the town is going to be there to welcome the new scientists.”
“Oh, the gala,” he announced then shook his head. “I completely forgot.” Doyle grinned then chuckled. “Davis felt the board members should skip the gala in silent protest. My wife felt differently and planned to attend on my behalf with Davis’ daughter. I suppose I should have remembered when I saw Jeannette was all dressed up before I left.”
“I hope Mrs. Cobbler and Miss Lowe enjoy themselves at the party,” Lea chirped then grinned while sweeping a glance of admiration over the older, handsome man. “Enjoy your steam, Mr. Cobbler.”
Lea then turned and hurried back to the smoking lounge before she was missed. The lounge was probably equally vacant tonight, and the young woman was almost certainly bored out of her mind with little to do. Doyle watched her leave with more than a passing interest. He glanced at her backside in the tight dress and grinned his approval. Although somewhat flirtatious as part of her job, Lea wasn’t as easy going as her sexy dress suggested. A man holding a thick pocketbook wasn’t enough to lure the young woman into his bed. Not surprising, there was an actual list naming the easy women working at the club and the wealthy male members had it memorized. Most of the better ones weren’t cheap either and none worked for free. Welcome to the boys’ club. Just another scandalous institution for the small town.
†
The elegant all wood steam room was three levels of stadium seating surrounding a mound of large rocks, providing steam throughout the room. Doyle entered the steam room wearing a white towel wrapped around his waist and one draped across his shoulders. Despite his age, he was psychically in excellent shape, although his light coating of chest hairs were mostly white, and he had more hair on his shoulders than he used to have. He poured some water onto the large rocks, causing them to hiss and send a wave of steam across the room like a rogue fog. He made himself comfortable on the first row bench and spread out. It wasn’t often the steam room was empty and certainly never on a Saturday evening. Having the steam room to himself was a rare treat. He leaned back onto the second row of seating and placed the second towel from his shoulders over his face. As he soaked in the excessively warm, moist steamy room, he heard the door open but didn’t bother to remove his towel to see who had entered. He was used to others coming and going.
The bench alongside him creaked as someone joined him. It seemed odd with the entire room empty that someone would sit so close. Doyle removed his towel to have a look at his fellow member. A kitchen knife slashed firmly across his throat. He barely managed a surprised gasp as blood poured from his neck and down his chest in a small waterfall, rapidly soaking into the white towel around his waist. He clutched at his throat then lifted his eyes to look at his attacker. His eyes widened with horror then rolled back. He collapsed onto the first bench as his blood continued to spill from the slit in his neck and across the elegant, wooden bench.
†
The men’s spa was void of life as was most of the country club that particular Saturday evening. Soft music filtered through the hidden wall speakers to drown out the gurgling sound of the sauna tub. Within the glorious twelve-person hot tub, a woman in her mid-thirties was partially submerged in the center of the churning, bubbling tub. Her eyes were open, seemingly staring at the ceiling. Her lips contorted, conveying her last moments of life, possibly gasping for her final breath. Even in death, Bridget was beautiful. On the table alongside the hot tub was a scotch glass and a half-empty bottle of vodka. An empty bottle of sleeping pills gently rolled on the table near the glass. The discarded kitchen knife stained with blood was partially hidden within a white, blood-soaked towel. It lie on the floor near the hot tub steps. A soaked piece of paper floated in the water near the dead woman. Scribbled on it were the words, ‘if I can’t have him, no one will’.
Chapter Two
Three months later. Not far from the Stony Ridge Country Club was an exclusive development lined with large, expensive homes on well-kept, landscaped yards. Beyond the mammoth entrance to the wealthy community was a moderately dark home. Although it was only a little after nine o’clock on a Sunday night, it appeared as if the occupants were either out or already in bed.
The large master bedroom was only dimly lit by a low burning fire in the gas fireplace, lending a romantic glow to the quiet bedroom. Two empty wineglasses set on the nightstand alongside the enormous, kind-sized bed. A woman in her late twenties, Jeannette Cobbler, slept peacefully beneath the slightly rumpled sheets covering her naked body. Her long strawberry blonde hair was mussed, perhaps from her wild evening. Something interrupted her slumber. She slowly woke feeling disoriented and looked around. The mass beneath the sheets alongside her didn’t stir. Jeannette slowly sat up, allowing the sheets to fall from her naked, toned body. Her full, large breasts were too round to be natural, looking more like two large cantaloupes than actual breasts. She slipped out of bed and into her discarded, slinky satin nightgown, which was lying on the floor with other scattered clothing. Without care for her bare feet, she padded across the room for the open door.
Jeannette walked down the e
legant grand staircase to the broad foyer below. She shivered from the excessively cool air on the first floor. Despite being late summer, the night seemed particularly chilly. Perhaps she’d left a window open. She turned the banister and entered the grand hallway heading toward the kitchen. She paused before the open study doorway and peered into the darkened room. For some unknown reason, she entered the study and flipped the light switch along the wall just inside the doorway. The study brightened considerably. She looked around as if expecting to find something, but nothing seemed out of place. The study was as elegant as the house itself with heavy, antique furniture, towering bookcases, and a small bar not far from the excessively large desk. Something on the desk caught Jeannette’s eyes.
She uncertainly approached the desk while staring at the small object on top. As she got closer, she realized it was a small flashlight. She stared at the flashlight a moment, appeared to consider its reason for being there, and then glanced across the room. The study appeared empty. She approached the desk while studying the flashlight then eyed the desk drawers. One of the metal locks contained fresh scratches. Jeannette immediately became alarmed and pulled on the drawer. It was unlocked! She gasped softly then reached for the desk phone. Jeannette was suddenly grabbed around the waist from behind, pulled against her assailant, and a black gloved hand covered her mouth to keep her from screaming. Her assailant breathed against her neck.
“Where is it?” a male voice demanded then removed his gloved hand from her mouth to allow her to speak.
“Where’s what?” she gasped with a quiver in her voice.
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