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Authors: Libby Fischer Hellmann

Tags: #Mystery & Detective / Women Sleuths

BOOK: A Shot to Die For

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Chapter Forty-four

“It was inevitable.”

“What do you mean?” Susan asked. We were hiking down the bike path a week later. The path was stippled with the clear light of evening, the leaves rustling in the breeze.

“The shoe print turned out to be Chip’s.”

“He killed Herbert Flynn?”

I nodded. “He probably thought he was doing what his father should have done thirty years ago.”

“Do you think his father put him up to it?”

I thought about it. “It’s an interesting question.”

“There was a precedent.”

“In both families.”

Susan’s eyebrows lifted.

“Two families. Two murders. Two siblings. But in the Flynns’ case, Daria discovered what they were up to.”

“She wasn’t in on it?”

I shook my head. “Apparently, she went ballistic when she found out. But Kim was desperate. Especially after she suspected Daria was seeing Luke.”

“You’re not saying she killed her sister over a man she slept with thirty years ago.”

“No. Money and revenge were at the root of it. But I’m sure the rumors about Luke and Daria didn’t help.”

“How did she arrange it? It had to take a lot of planning.”

“It wasn’t that hard. After she enlisted Watkins, she got him to steal a green pickup, waited until she knew Daria would be heading to the oasis, then called the guy Daria was planning to meet and canceled it on Daria’s behalf.” I shrugged. “For all we know, she could have tampered with Daria’s car to begin with, so it would be out of commission.”

“All that just to stage a sniper attack?” Susan turned a shocked face to me. “And Herbert didn’t know?”

“Kim claimed he didn’t.”

“I guess I believe her,” Susan said. “I mean, how does a parent let one of their children kill the other?”

“That’s a question I’d like to ask Chuck Sutton.”

Susan pressed her lips together. “Has Chip confessed?”

I shook my head. “He’s all lawyered up, but if Luke testifies against him, it should be a done deal.”

“Will he?”

“He’s given statements to that effect.”

“So what really did happen that night?”

“From what I can gather, Chip saw Annie getting ready to go out. When she told him she was going to the airstrip to talk to Luke, he decided it would be one of those nights. It wasn’t the first time, you know,” I said grimly. “He managed to intercept her in the backyard. This time, though, she fought back. She somehow got his fishing knife—he had it with him all the time—”

“Fishing knife?”

“He bought it in northern Wisconsin. They say Chip still has a scar on his shoulder where she stabbed him. Eventually, though, he overpowered her. Threw the knife in the water, I guess. It’s never been found. Then he strangled her. When he realized she was dead, he panicked. He stripped off her clothes and the baseball shirt with his blood on it—”

“Luke’s shirt.”

“According to Luke, he borrowed Luke’s things a lot.”

“That’s kind of telling right there, don’t you think?”

“I guess. Anyway, he threw Annie in the water, folded the clothes, and hid them in the ice house. I guess he thought they’d never be found. The story of the ‘intruder’ was concocted afterward.”

“By his father.”

I nodded. “Herbert witnessed the whole thing. He went to Sutton right away and told him. The problem was he wasn’t sure which brother it was. Sutton told him if anything ever came out about either brother, he would make sure Herbert’s family paid.”

“Kim and Daria being the family.”

I waved away mosquitoes.

“He turned out to be prescient.” Susan marched down the path at a brisk pace. “Did Irene know about the—the scheme?”

“Apparently not.”

“But Herbert was already back in Lake Geneva when Irene and Kim showed up at your house.”

“He was staying in Delavan at a friend of Kim’s.”

“Which means they were playing you from the beginning.”

“They were.”

“Tell me something.” Susan looked at me through lidded eyes. “If Watkins was the shooter, who drove the pickup?”

“Kim. She wore a wig and glasses.”

“What about the third sniper attack? How does that fit in?”

“The police think the third one was the first guy acting out because someone—Kim and Billy Watkins, specifically—actually had the nerve to copycat him.”

“Which means someone is still running around killing people with a high-powered rifle because of a bruised ego.”

I paused. “Yes.”

We exited the bike path and headed back to Happ Road.

“What’s going to happen to Irene?” Susan asked.

“I don’t know. Luke wants her to go into an assisted living place, but she’s in no shape to make any decisions.”

Susan nodded.

“Ellie, how can you have anything more to do with the Suttons?”

“There aren’t many of them left. Chip and Chuck will spend the rest of their lives in prison.”

“What about the coupler business?”

“I guess it’s mostly Luke’s now.”

“Talk about your reluctant tycoon.”

I kept my mouth shut.

“I said, let’s talk about your reluctant tycoon,” Susan said coolly. “Ellie, he’s got more baggage than the carousels at O’Hare. How can you contemplate a future with him?”

I didn’t answer.

“Ellie?”

I ran my hand over the top of a bush. “You have a point. Whether he was consciously aware of it or not, he knew something was very wrong.”

“And his way of dealing with it was to run away. Fly a plane. Join the army. Hide out in Montana.”

“He came back. And he was actually looking for evidence that his brother killed Annie up at the fishing cabin.”

“I don’t know, Ellie,” she said, obviously not convinced. “What does that say about his ability to face other issues? How do you know he won’t throw up his hands and run again?” She threw me a look. “Because there’s one thing I know. If you get involved with him, there are bound to be issues. Have you thought about that?”

“I’ve been thinking of little else.” I shrugged. “We have a lot to work out once he’s back in Chicago.”

“He’s not staying in Lake Geneva?”

“He’s going to sell Monticello. After he finds a place for his mother.”

“I see,” she said. “And isn’t there another nagging issue?”

“What’s that?”

“I think his name begins with David.”

“Susan, I told you. It’s over.”

“Are you sure? Or could it be possible you still haven’t forgiven him for cheating on you?”

“That was eons ago. I’ve forgotten all about that.”

“It was last year. And how do you know you’re not, subconsciously, of course, still punishing him? Getting even for the hurt he caused you?”

I thought about it. Was I somehow—subconsciously or not—suppressing my real feelings for David? It didn’t feel like it. Then again, given everything that had happened recently, my reactions could be off. I looked over. “Kim Flynn was a woman who couldn’t forgive,” I said. “I’m not that petty.”

Susan didn’t say anything

I thought back to the message David left on my machine a few days ago. I’d never called him back. I owed him that much.

***

Rachel and I had a late dinner, and by the time I’d cleaned up, it was dark. I went out to the deck to sit on my glider. Clouds rushed across the moon, refracting light into a brilliant white scrim. In the western horizon, the sky was still vaguely pink from the setting sun.

I swung back and forth. Maybe Susan was right. I could patch things up with David. Life would certainly be easier with him. The history between us was powerful. We knew what to expect from each other; we shared a friendship, if not passion. But the ferocity and raw power that surged through me when I thought about Luke made my body ache. He was the one who filled my thoughts. Still, how long could anyone sustain that kind of passion? The events of this summer had drained me. I was tired. And Luke had a lot of healing to do.

Chatter from the TV drifted out to the deck. Rachel was watching a DVD that contained an entire season of “Friends.” I’d sworn to destroy it if I had to listen to its doggedly cheerful theme song again. Tonight, though, its familiarity was soothing.

There were still a few weeks until school started. Maybe Rachel and I should take off for a while. We could rent a place on the Michigan shore. Do some mother-daughter bonding. I’d be losing her soon—she’d have her driver’s license in a few months. I could invite Dad, too. He could use the distraction.

A car rolled up the driveway, crackling a few dead leaves that had already lost the battle. A car door opened and closed. The doorbell chimed. Rachel could get it. I didn’t have the energy. The sound of the TV was suddenly silenced; I heard Rachel shuffle to the door.

A male voice in a deep register mumbled something. I didn’t catch the words.

“She’s out on the deck.” A pause. “I’ll get her.”

Rachel’s footsteps echoed through the kitchen. The screen door squeaked as she threw it open. “Mom,” she whispered theatrically. “For you.”

I didn’t want to know who it was. “Tell them I’m not available.”

“I can’t.” Rachel peered over her shoulder and stepped aside.

He stood framed in the doorway, the light wreathing him like a halo. “Hello, Ellie.”

“I—I didn’t expect this,” I stammered. “What are you doing here?”

He smiled and held out his hand.