For the Defense (24 page)

Then he molded his mouth to hers and there was no more breath for words. Or time for thoughts. There was only her.

D
IANA WATCHED
in awed pride as Mel played her small part. She’d not only immersed herself in the role. She was pulling it off like a pro. When the fatal moment arrived for Matter to be murdered, a wonderful surprise stole over Mel’s face as she sank slowly and convincingly to the stage floor.

Only knowing that such an act would horrify her daughter kept Diana from jumping up and clapping like the very proud mother she was. For years she’d been enthralled by Mel’s mental prowess, a true gift of nature. Tonight she was even more impressed to see Mel accomplish something that had taken a lot of hard work.

A fellow performer rested on his bony knee beside Mel’s quiet form, putting an exploratory finger against the pulse in her neck. “Dead,” he announced in a voice that squeaked.

Diana recognized him as Thackery, an eleven-year-old who was already so well versed in the string theory of physics that he was challenging assumptions made by known experts in the field.

Beside him stood Rosemary, the fourteen-year-old host of the TV Game Show. She could play a piece of music on any instrument like a virtuoso after having heard it only once.

“One of our contestants in the studio tonight is a murderer,” she said, looking pointedly at the other performers
left standing on the stage. “Before this game is over I will name the culprit and bring him—or her—to justice.”

As the curtain closed on Act One, a murmur of appreciation wove through the community center’s auditorium, filled this Saturday with the families of the gifted children performing the Game Show Murder.

Jack sat on Diana’s right, the feel of him producing both a gladness and an ache inside her. He’d helped Mel accomplish what she had tonight. Diana loved him for it—and for so many other things she’d lost count. But she could never tell him.

From the first he’d let her know he was a confirmed bachelor and that children were not part of his life plan. And yet she’d still chosen to have an affair with him. Last night he’d told her he didn’t know where their relationship was going. She did. At the end of the trial, she’d say goodbye. She had to. If she didn’t do it then, one day he would. And that would be so much harder for her heart to handle.

Diana sat back and watched Act Two unfold. Mel was backstage, Shirley helping her remove the heavy Matter costume, while on stage the clever sleuth ferreted out the murderer by asking the remaining contestants questions and tripping them up by their answers. When the culprit was unmasked and admitted to the foul deed, the play was over and all the performers piled onto the stage to take their bows before a cheering audience that had come to its feet.

Diana was looking for Mel to emerge for her bow when the cell phone in her shoulder bag rang. Thankful the call hadn’t come during the performance, she dug out the phone, put a finger in one ear to drown out the clapping and answered.

“Diana Mason?” the strange, breathy voice asked.

“Yes,” Diana said, straining to hear. “Who’s calling?”

“Plead your client guilty right now. If I don’t hear you’ve done so on the news tomorrow, you will never
see your daughter again. Keep this secret to your grave or I will put you both in one.”

J
ACK FELT
Diana stiffen beside him, saw the shock that drained her face. He clasped her shoulders, gently turned her toward him. “Tell me.”

She repeated what the caller had said in a voice devoid of life.

Capturing her hands in his, he held on tightly, willing the warmth of his touch and voice to reach her. “Diana?”

A shudder ran through her as her glazed eyes cleared and focused on him. “I’m all right. Let’s go.”

They hurried backstage while the clapping continued. Darting through the layers of curtains, they found Shirley crawling on the floor near the exit. She held her middle, her breath coming out in gasps.

Jack recognized a hit to the diaphragm when he saw one. As Diana dropped to the floor beside Shirley, he pulled out his cell phone and called for an ambulance.

“Grabbed…” Shirley said, struggling to get the word out.

“Did you see who it was?” Diana asked.

“Mask,” Shirley gasped. “Tall. Dress.”

“Judge Weaton,” Diana said.

Shirley grabbed her arm, shook her head as she fought for breath.

“Smell…man,” Shirley gasped.

Jack dropped to his knee and studied Shirley’s face, noting the steady look in her eyes.

“Lyle Weaton,” Jack said. He shot to his feet. “The ambulance is on its way, Diana. Stay with Shirley.”

“Jack—”

“I’ll get Mel back,” he promised.

Before Diana could say another word, he was gone.

“J
ARED
, I
NEED TO KNOW
where Lyle is,” Jack said into his cell after having quickly related the situation. “The
Global Positioning System in his Cadillac should pinpoint his location.”

“Hold on,” Jared said.

No argument, wasted words or hesitation. Jack never appreciated his brother more than at this moment.

He was in the auditorium’s parking lot, sitting in the Porsche with the engine running. As he waited for his twin to return to the line, he pulled an emergency tool kit out of the glove compartment, wishing he hadn’t left his gun at the office. Richard had often warned him that a private investigator should never be without his weapon. But the last place Jack had figured he’d need one was a kid’s play.

His nerves stretched raw as the seconds crawled by and his blood pounded for action.

The abduction had been carefully planned. The only people even aware of the performance tonight were supposed to be the organizers of the event and their families. But the auditorium had been open during the rehearsal Jack had attended—and probably all the others. All Lyle would have had to do was walk in and take a seat in the shadows in order to learn about the date of the performance and when Mel would be backstage.

Only thing he hadn’t counted on was Shirley being with her.

After what seemed like an eternity, Jared came back on the line.

“His Cadillac DeVille’s been located at Park Street and Twenty-Third downtown.”

As Jack listened to his brother’s directions, he accessed the Porsche’s Communication Management feature and fed in the coordinates. The electronic road map showed the quickest way to get there.

“Got it, Jared. Thanks.”

“Jack, I need time to try to get a search warrant for his car. You understand?”

“Perfectly,” Jack replied as he flipped his cell closed and shot out of the parking lot.

What Jack understood was that his brother’s chances of getting a search warrant were slim. And even if he got one, it would only be for Lyle’s car. If Mel wasn’t in the vehicle, his brother would be forced to walk away.

Jack wasn’t bound by any such constraints. Very little of his journey registered in his conscious thoughts as he sped through the night. His reflexes were on automatic.

Mel’s bright eyes, her smile, her face so brimming with life filled his mind. When the image of Diana’s stark white face replaced it, Jack pushed the gas pedal to the floor.

Following the electronic road map lit on the dash, he zoomed down the streets of the business district.

When he turned the far corner of Park Street, he saw the neon lights blinking outside a bar, behind it a full parking lot. Cutting the Porsche’s lights and engine, he turned into the lot, slipping into the shadows. The second the car had rolled to a complete stop, he was out of the driver’s seat.

Silently and swiftly, Jack wove through the parked cars. He found Lyle’s DeVille at the far end, its hood still warm. Pulling a flashlight out of his tool kit, he checked the interior then grabbed another tool and forced open the trunk. Empty.

Jack checked inside the bar, including both rest rooms. Lyle wasn’t there.

That’s when Jack realized Lyle had parked at the bar as a ruse. He knew the man couldn’t be far. Back on the street, Jack began to search the surrounding stores. Everything was locked and shut up for the night. At the end of the block, he turned right and proceeded on foot to the
next street, all the while conscious of the precious passing time.

Finally, three doors down on the right, he found what he was looking for. The sign on the darkened diner read, For Sale by the Weaton Real Estate Company.

Jack peered into the window and saw a faint strip of light coming from behind an interior door. His heart started to pound. Lyle was in there, and he had Mel with him.

The lock on the front door was connected to an alarm. Jack checked the windows and also found them alarmed. He moved to the side of the building and located a solid metal exit door. Getting through it would take nothing less than a battering ram.

Setting off an alarm might be a good way to get Lyle out of there. But before he tried anything, Jack knew he needed to make sure all the exits were covered. He was reaching for his cell phone to call to his brother when a blue Cadillac came into view.

Jack ducked into the shadows. The Seville came to a screeching halt. Barbara Weaton jumped out of the driver’s seat and charged at the front door of the diner, banging loudly on its door.

“Lyle, it’s me,” she yelled. “Open this door immediately.”

Jack could hear the noise of an interior door, the footsteps that shuffled to the front. Lyle must have deactivated the alarm because when he opened the door for his mother, no blast ensued.

“What are you doing with that gun?” Barbara screeched.

“It’s protection,” Lyle said. “What in the hell are you doing here? Go home. I told you. I’m handling things.”

“With a gun?”

“Why don’t you yell a little louder. I don’t think they heard you in the next county.”

“Lyle, I don’t care how bad things are. I won’t let you kidnap a child.”

“You’re too late. It’s done. Now get in here before you attract attention.”

Jack heard Barbara’s gasp, the shuffling of feet, the close of the door.

Leaving his hiding place, Jack circled to the front of the diner, peered through the window to see the door closing at the back. He turned the knob and pushed the door open, exhaling a breath of relief when the alarm didn’t sound.

Noiselessly, he made his way through the darkness to the sliver of light beneath the storeroom door. He could hear the voices clearly through the closed door.

“Lyle, why have you done this?”

“To clean up Bruce’s last mess so you don’t lose out on that appellate court nomination. Same way I’ve cleaned up all his other messes in order to protect you.”

“This is insane!”

“No, insanity is your continuing to cherish his memory like he was some choirboy. He was a no-good drunk who killed a kid and left us all to pay for it. If the news gets out, my business is doomed and so is your career. I had to do this, Mother. You know I did. Mason wouldn’t talk the damn woman into taking a plea.”

“Lyle, I tried to tell you on the phone but you wouldn’t listen. Even if Mason agrees to plead Connie Pearce guilty now, Staker’s going to turn it down.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Connie Pearce’s motive was the only weak point in Staker’s case—the only reason I was able to even talk him into offering second degree in the first place. Now that he has the evidence proving Bruce killed Connie’s child, he’s going to let nothing stand in his way of taking it to court.”

“Get on the damn phone and talk to him. Here. Use my
cell. Tell him he has to plead her out. Tell him you’ll withdraw your backing of his candidacy if he doesn’t.”

“I already withdrew my backing,” Barbara said in a voice weary with defeat. “He insisted I do it. He didn’t want to be tainted by any connection to your brother through me. I also withdrew my candidacy for the appellate court. It’s over, Lyle. The announcements will be on tomorrow morning’s news.”

A moment passed in silence followed by a slew of Lyle’s curses.

Jack had a feeling that the object he’d heard hitting the wall had been Lyle’s cell phone.

“I’ll kill him,” Lyle screamed. “I’ll kill them all.” Then there was a click—the unmistakable sound of the hammer snapping into firing position on an automatic.

An angry, desperate man holding a gun, with the life of a child in his hands.

Knowing he hadn’t a second to lose, Jack kicked open the door and charged inside.

D
IANA RAN DOWN
the corridor toward the E.R. She recognized the man in the dark blue suit who stood by the receptionist’s counter, although she had never seen him before.

“Jared Knight, I’m Diana Mason,” she said holding out her hand.

He shook her hand and stared at her with eyes the exact color as Jack’s.

“Your daughter is fine,” he said. “What I told you over the phone has been confirmed. She was chloroformed, but otherwise unhurt. When she came to a few minutes ago, she had no memory of being abducted. Happened too fast. They’ll keep her overnight for observation. You’ll be able to take her home tomorrow.”

Diana allowed herself a blessed respite of deep gratitude before asking, “What about Jack?”

“The E.R. doctor is with him now.”

Diana’s heart squeezed tightly in her chest. “How bad is it? Please tell me.”

“When Jack tackled Lyle, the guy’s gun went off, but the bullet only grazed Jack’s arm. He’ll be okay.”

The relief surging through Diana left her weak. She gripped the counter and felt Jared’s hand rest briefly on her shoulder.

“Don’t be alarmed if you see blood on your daughter’s clothes. It’s Jack’s. He got it on her when he picked her up. Lyle had dumped her on the floor.”

Diana had watched nature programs where mothers who were half the size of predators would fight so fiercely in defense of their young that the predators would run off. She understood what those mothers had been feeling now.

“I could kill the bastard with my bare hands,” she said in a voice even she didn’t recognize.

“Jack dislocated Lyle’s shoulder in their fight over the gun. Help any?”

Diana smiled. “And he kept telling me he was the wimp in the family.”

“When Jack believes in what he’s fighting for, he’s as tough as any of us,” Jared said very quietly.