Betrayal (21 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Betrayal
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She hoofed it to the attic and brought down the boxes that held her childhood treasures. It would be a pleasant way to pass the evening. She even made a pot of hot chocolate and lit the fire in the den. It was as cozy as ever. The only thing missing was her husband. And the girls. They were always here when she decorated the tree. Though she felt sad at the loss of Emily, she would never be able to look at Sara again without thinking about choking her. But she would deal with that another time. She hadn't really given much thought to the future as far as a relationship with Emily went. She would be eighteen in a couple of years. Kate would never turn the child away. She loved her like a daughter. She'd been so consumed with the trial that she hadn't really given any thought to Emily. She would like to send her something for Christmas, but it wasn't time this year. Maybe next year.
Kate opened the first box. Extra careful of the fragile ornaments, she unwrapped the tissue paper around each and every one. She'd glued macaroni to a paper plate to make a wreath. Must have been first grade; the green paint she'd used was all but gone. Glitter still sparkled in a few places. She removed a hot pink star made out of dough. She remembered making this particular decoration. She'd been in fifth grade. Not wanting to make a Santa or tree or an angel like the rest of her classmates, she'd opted for the star. No gold paint either. She'd gone with hot pink. Her mother had laughed at her choice of colors. Fluorescent colors were all the rage. Next, she held a small bell. She hadn't made this. It'd been given to her by a girl in her third-grade class. Natalie. She remembered. Natalie's parents were Jehovah's Witnesses. Natalie told Kate she really hated that they didn't exchange gifts. She'd told her mother, and they'd gone together to pick out a special gift for Natalie. The bell had been Natalie's gift to her. Kate had given her a charm bracelet in the shape of a heart. Natalie had hidden it from her parents, but Kate knew she'd cherished the gift. Kate's childhood held so many happy memories. Her parents were older when she was born, but they never acted any different from the younger parents of her friends. In fact, Kate remembered them being more active than her friends' parents had been. She still missed them to this day. Good people gone way too soon.
She tackled a second box. It was filled with decorations she and Alex had purchased after they were married. She remembered going to the Hallmark store at the mall. They'd bought all kinds of fun, silly ornaments. Then Alex had disappeared only to return with a gift-wrapped box. He told her it would always be their special ornament, the one they would pass on to their children and grandchildren. Of course, at the time they hadn't known Kate couldn't conceive. Inside the box was a crystal star with their wedding picture etched in the glass. Inscribed in the crystal:
Our first Christmas as a family.
Kate had cried, and Alex laughed at her for being so sentimental. It was always the first ornament placed on the tree. Yes, she would take this to Florida. Together, they'd hang it on whatever kind of tree they wound up with. She'd get something new this year to celebrate Alex's release.
Kate relaxed in Alex's chair with her cup of cocoa. She was about to pick up her book when the doorbell rang.
Gertie. She probably had the dogs. Kate hurried to the door. It was downright cold. Gertie should have called her to come get the dogs. Kate certainly wasn't doing anything important.
The chimes again.
“Come on in, Gertie,” Kate called out. Why was she at the front door anyway? She never used the front door.
Kate pulled the heavy oak door aside. No Gertie. She stepped out onto the porch to see if she'd gone around back. There was no trace of her. She was about to go back inside and get a sweater when she heard something that sounded like a car door closing. She walked around to the driveway. A silver car—she hadn't been expecting company. The person driving flicked on the headlights. Apparently whoever it was saw her and shut the engine.
Kate waited while the visitor walked up the drive to the porch.
“Kate, is that you?”
“Coleman? Coleman Fitzpatrick, what in the name of Pete are you doing in Asheville? I've tried to call you for two days.”
“Kate, can I come inside? I'm not used to this weather. Florida living spoils you.”
“Of course. Come on. I have a fire in the den and a pot of hot chocolate.”
Coleman followed Kate inside. He dreaded telling her the news. A phone call would've been sufficient, but he couldn't do that to Kate.
He entered a brightly lit room. Big sofas and large chairs were scattered haphazardly about the room. The stone fireplace took up one wall. Coleman liked what he saw. Homey, nothing pretentious, just like Kate. If he remembered right, this was Kate's childhood home.
She continued on to a bright red kitchen. Copper pots and a red stove. So like Kate. She took a cup from the cabinet. “I might have to heat this a bit. I was going through some old Christmas decorations.” Kate stopped. Coleman wasn't there to chitchat. “Why are you here?”
He pulled out two chairs from the old oak table. “Are you going to tell me, or do I have to guess? It's about Alex, right? Coleman, if you're hiding him out in the car, I'll never forgive you! Did you bring him home?”
She wasn't making this easy. “Kate, I want you to sit down. No, I don't have Alex in the car. I promise you. I wish I did, but I don't. Please”—he motioned toward the chair—“sit down.”
She did as he asked. “What?”
He was about to tear her world apart. There wasn't a nice way to do this. “Kate, yesterday there was a fight at the prison. Alex was involved. Some guys in the showers. I'm sorry, Kate. Alex was killed.”
Time stopped.
“Say that again?” Kate asked.
“Alex was defending one of his friends. Someone got hold of a shiv. They used it on Alex. He didn't make it, Kate. God, I am so sorry.”
Her body went limp, and her world turned black.
Chapter 24
Orlando, Florida
Seven years later
 
T
he Internal Revenue Service office was like any other government office. Dull and boring. The employees were hardworking and dedicated. Auditing was a serious business, so they took their jobs seriously. At lunchtime, they discussed dividends, tax shelters, and capital gains. They all knew the numbers for each and every tax form ever published. For the numerically challenged, it was the job from hell. For those with a mission, to work at the IRS was the chance of a lifetime.
Kate Rocket had worked her way up to supervisor of the Orlando office. She'd never missed a day of work. Never called in sick in the five years she had worked there. Never took a vacation and always ate her lunch at her desk. She did not socialize with any of the employees. She was punctual to a fault. All who worked with her, especially the new agents, called her “Killer Kate” behind her back because working with her would kill you. She knew what they said about her. She had a job to do. She didn't care to learn about her workers' personal lives. She didn't want to give them an opportunity to ask about hers. There was nothing to tell. She lived in a one-bedroom condo. She had a bed, a couch, and a small table in the kitchen. She had five different suits she wore to work: gray, black, brown, dark green, and burgundy. She wore plain white blouses with all of them. Black or brown shoes with beige nylons. She wore her hair in a topknot. She usually had a pencil or two tucked within the nest of her hair. She had nothing fancy, nothing to distract her from her job. At 8:00
A.M.
, she went to work and left at exactly 5:00
P.M.
She went home to her empty condo. She did not cook. Her small freezer was packed with Stouffer's and Healthy Choice frozen dinners. She had toast and coffee for breakfast every day. A tuna sandwich for lunch. In five years, she'd never strayed from this routine.
That was about to change. Tonight was the seventh anniversary of Alex's death. The first year after Alex was murdered was a blur. The second year she spent planning. All of her and Alex's holdings remained in Gertie's name to this day. Since moving to Orlando, Kate hadn't touched a penny of their money. She lived on what she earned as an employee of the government. She had excellent health coverage and a small life insurance policy.
Alex's killer had eventually died of his wounds, inflicted by Alex. She supposed there was some sort of justice in that, but it hadn't eased her grief. Coleman had made all the arrangements for Alex. He'd been cremated. His ashes were the only possession of her former life that she'd allowed herself to bring with her when she decided to relocate to Orlando.
It hadn't been an easy decision given what she'd set out to do. She'd had to find the perfect job to fulfill her plan. That it was in Orlando was even better. She'd gone to a training center in DC for a few months after she was hired. She was a quick learner. Computers were her only friend now. Kate took to computers like a duck to water. She could find almost anything she needed to know. The one extravagance she allowed herself was a top-of-the-line computer system with 512 megabytes of RAM and an 80-gigabyte hard drive. She could view CDs and some DVDs. She had six USB ports, a camera, and a two-channel audio speaker. She had a scanner, a printer, and a fax machine. She'd recently purchased a digital camera. That was enough for her needs. Y2K had been a threat to those with a computer system of any kind. Banks, department stores, gas stations, anyplace that depended on Internet services, their computers would supposedly crash. Just as Kate had predicted, it never happened.
Kate didn't feel the least bit of guilt for what she was preparing to do. It was all she had lived for the past five years. She had to do this. For Alex. For herself. And for all the innocent men who died in prison.
Tomorrow her coworkers would be shocked when she didn't show up for work. After a while they would call only to find her telephone disconnected. Since her address was in her personnel file, they would come to check on her. She had arranged for her utilities to be disconnected at eight tomorrow morning. Garbage pickup had been discontinued. She didn't need to worry about closing her bank accounts. She wouldn't be making any deposits. She did all of her banking online. She received no mail, other than advertisements, so she didn't need to cancel any magazine subscriptions. She wouldn't be forwarding her mail to her new address. That was the point. She wanted to disappear. When she felt it was safe, she would call Gertie and tell her she'd moved. Only the name of the town, never the address. She hadn't seen Gertie in five years. She called her once a week from a different pay phone each time. She wanted nothing that could be traced back to her. Investigators were sharp, with all the technology a mere click away. From that day forward, she hoped that finding her would be very difficult, if not impossible. And if she was found out, she'd simply face the music. She didn't have much of a life anyway. It mattered little to her whether she spent the remainder of her life in some crummy rental apartment or a jail cell.
Kate Rocket had a mission to fulfill.
She removed all her clothes from the closet. She placed them inside a dark green lawn and leaf bag. Her shoes went, too. From the top shelf in the closet she removed a small black duffel bag she'd ordered from L.L.Bean. She had two pairs of jeans, a pair of khakis, a pair of black capris, and five white shirts she'd purchased online from The Gap stuffed inside the bag. Ten pairs of Victoria's Secret plain white briefs and three bras. One long nightshirt. She had a pair of black slides and a pair of white Nikes
.
Kate was amazed. A person never had to leave her home. One could even shop for groceries online. She might utilize that particular extravagance after she settled in her new apartment.
Next, she went to the small bathroom. She had two bottles of Suave shampoo and conditioner. Two tubes of Crest toothpaste, two unopened toothbrushes, and three bars of Dove bath soap. Ten Daisy razors, three packs of dental floss, and a large bottle of Scope mouthwash. She grabbed the light blue can of Secret deodorant. Anyone would use the products she did. There was nothing special about them at all. She peered beneath the single cabinet and removed a generic box of tampons. At forty-three, she needed them less and less with each passing month.
She looked around the place she should have called home for the past five years. There were no pictures to remove from the walls, nothing personal. No magnets collecting on the refrigerator. Once she removed her clothes and toiletry items, the apartment could've housed anyone at all. She thought about tossing all the frozen dinners, but at the last minute changed her mind. The next tenant might enjoy them.
Her computer system would go with her. She still had the original cartons they came in, so they were easy to pack. With all the electronics gone, the room was as empty as Kate's life. She didn't know what the future held. Only one thing mattered to her at this stage. She must avenge Alex's death, or else he'd died for nothing.
The last thing on her list was a disguise of sorts. Her hair made her visible. As much as she hated to, she knew it had to go. She went to the bathroom with a pair of hair scissors she'd ordered. She removed the elastic that held her hair in a loose knot. She shook her hair out, like a dog shook after a bath. She remembered Alex when he would bathe the dogs. He'd get as wet as they did.
She grabbed a handful of hair and started cutting. Twenty minutes later she had a cute bob. A box of Nice'n Easy waited. Cool brown, the color said, but Kate knew it would be closer to black, the color she wanted. She'd seen women who had what she called “witch black–bottled” hair. It was extremely unnatural. That wasn't the look she was aiming for. Forty-five minutes later she viewed her handiwork. Not bad. She had contacts to turn her green eyes brown. She had a cosmetic case full of eye shadow, mascara, and every shade of lipstick in the rainbow. She had never worn much makeup. She spent a few nights trying some tricks she had read about. They were quite drastic. She would now be one of those women who couldn't leave the house without “putting her face on.”
She went through the apartment one last time. It was after ten, dark enough that she could begin loading her car. She had a Ford Explorer, so there would be room to spare once she filled it with her meager possessions.
When she finished, she took the large garbage bag and placed it next to the Dumpster. She didn't want to throw the clothes in with all the smelly garbage. Maybe someone who needed them would find them.
As she pulled out of the parking space, Kate felt an odd sense of freedom. All that she'd studied, planned, and plotted was about to come to fruition.
Kate settled into her new apartment with ease. The complex was adults only, and was occupied mostly by retirees. That was good. They'd be too busy playing golf and cards to bother with the new tenant.
Her last trip to Naples had been lunch with Coleman Fitzpatrick. She often thought about him. He'd been devastated upon hearing the news of Alex's death. So much so that he immediately flew to North Carolina in his private plane. He'd had some weather delays. Kate remembered trying to call his office and home repeatedly. They were going to bring Alex home after his new trial exonerated him, but it had never happened. She'd paid Coleman an exorbitant sum of money and donated an equal amount to the American Cancer Society in his wife's name.
He would call daily, and twice he came knocking on her door. She begged to be left alone. She couldn't face him. There was too much of a connection between him and all that had gone wrong in her life. Not that she ever blamed him. He'd finally given up on trying to reach her. She'd liked Coleman and hated to lose his friendship. He was still in practice, according to his firm's Web site. She would've liked to call him but couldn't.
This apartment had two bedrooms. She used the second as an office. If anyone were to ask, she planned to tell them she did medical billing from home. Lots of people did that. She knew because she had actually taken an online course. You never knew.
She knew that Emily was in vet school, though she was unable to find any current employment records. Debbie had her own real estate firm. That surprised her. She knew a few years back Don had filed for bankruptcy, but Debbie's name wasn't on the file she'd looked at. There were no current employment records for Don either. The past three years he had received no income whatsoever. Working with the Internal Revenue Service had opened all kinds of doors for Kate. She could take away a person's livelihood with the stroke of a few keys.
While sabotaging the Winters financially was on her list, it wasn't at the top. Sara would be twenty years old now. She was a big girl. Kate figured it was time for her to face the music. If Sara was attending college, Kate had been unable to find out where. That was a big reason for her move to Naples. If Sara was still living there, Kate could watch her.
Sick as it sounded, Kate actually liked spying on people, getting information that no one else seemed to be able to find. Maybe she'd been a private investigator in another life. Whatever, she seemed to have a knack for it.
She had a schedule and would stick to it if she hoped to accomplish anything. That day she would drive to Debbie's office. She might go inside and ask about a rental. She needed to be able to come and go freely. If she could get by Debbie, she'd get past anyone.
She blew her hair into a curl-free bob. She still had trouble recognizing herself when she looked in the mirror but figured that was a good thing. Contacts in place. Heavy eye shadow and loads of thick gloss on her lips. She wore the black capris, slides, and a white T-shirt. She looked like anyone else, well, maybe minus the makeup. Hell, she looked like Debbie. The woman wore so much makeup, Kate used to wonder how often she had to buy it to balance supply and demand. Weekly, from the looks of her. But that was years ago. Maybe she'd changed with age.
Kate had practiced speaking with a strong Southern accent. She had a slow drawl as it was, but when she enhanced it as she'd done, she sounded nothing like the Kate Rocket Debbie knew.
She waited until midmorning to go to the real estate office. If Debbie was true to form, she wasn't an early riser. Kate believed her chances of “bumping into” her at this time would be greater.

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