Half Past Dead (18 page)

David's heart rapped against his ribs like an unanswered knock, and he managed a nod.

“We found a thirty-eight hidden in the trunk she uses for a coffee table.” He held up a plastic bag with a gun in it.

A wild flash of grief and disappointment ripped through David. Elmer Bitner had been shot with a thirty-eight. It was a moment before he could muster the strength to ask, “Why would she hide a gun, then disappear? Why wouldn't she throw it away?”

“Don't you think the answer is obvious?”

Justin asked the question with a grin, but David could see Justin was just as disturbed and disappointed as he was. He was romantically involved with Kat. This couldn't be a cakewalk for him.

“She didn't think anyone knew she was meeting Elmer,” continued Justin. “How would we have known, if he hadn't told Buck Mason?”

David nodded, not trusting his voice. He felt his throat constricting as if he'd swallowed a bale of cotton. Right now he felt like an old fool with one foot in the grave and the other close behind.

Justin said emphatically, “Something or someone tipped her. She hightailed it without returning for the gun. But I believe Kat hid the gun because she thought she might need it again.”

I
T WAS ONE O'CLOCK
in the morning when Tori heard her doorbell ring. She was online, checking the requirements for a Georgia real estate license. She dreaded the hassle of studying for the exam, finding a broker to work for, and developing clientele all over again. What choice did she have? She was through here, thanks to her sister.

She rose from the workstation in the small home office on the first floor of her condo. A quick peek out the window revealed Clay's silver Porsche Boxster at the curb. She'd tried to reach him all day, but he hadn't returned her calls. She knew she would have to get over him. That, besides burying her mother, would be the most difficult part of leaving. She would be giving up on a dream she'd had since high school. She would never be Mrs. Clay Kincaid.

Everything in her body went slack at the thought. She considered not answering the door. What would be the point in prolonging her agony? The bell rang again, a long, sustained buzzzzzzzzz that told her Clay was leaning on the bell.

She walked out of her office and down the hall to the front door. She would have to sell her condo, she realized. Her mother's, too. It would be months at least, before she could leave. She certainly couldn't move until her mother passed away.

A thought hit her. Did her mother have a will? She'd assumed so, but she should have found out before now. If she didn't have a will, the estate—small as it was—would have to go through probate and Kat would receive half. She would squander it on attorney's fees.

Tori threw open the door and found Clay grinning at her.

“Hey, babe,” he said, his breath thick with Johnnie Walker. He moseyed into the living room, dropped onto the sofa, and waited for her to turn on the lamp.

She flicked on the light without a word. Clay was shitfaced. He'd been drinking and hadn't bothered to respond to her frantic calls. She'd never seen herself as a weak woman. She'd sacrificed so much for this man. But where he'd been concerned, she now realized that she'd been a simpering Southern belle, waiting at his pleasure.

With a stab of anger, she mentally kicked herself. Once. Twice. It hit her that Kat's years in prison had transformed her into a stronger woman, while Tori had become weaker by trying to please Clay and the self-important Kincaids. What
had
she been thinking?

“Where have you been?” she demanded. “I've been trying to reach you for hours.”

He patted the seat beside him, saying, “I wanted to have something positive to tell you.”

“What could be positive about this situation?” Tori sat next to Clay. “My sister is a prime suspect in a murder.”

“I just left Dad's place.”

The only time Clay called his father “Dad” was when he'd been drinking and the judge wasn't around. Otherwise, he called him “Father.” In front of people he wanted to impress, he referred to him as “the judge.” Had he ever called his father Daddy? She dismissed the ridiculous thought.

“Dad got a call. A search of your sister's apartment turned up a gun. They'll have to run tests, but everyone knows it's the murder weapon.”

Tori didn't bother to say anything. She would only have to live with this nightmare until she could move to Atlanta. But her mother was another story. She was already weak, near collapse. The endless humiliation Kat rained down on them would kill her.

Clay grabbed Tori and crushed her to him, his lips claiming hers. The expensive whiskey on his tongue swirled through her mouth. A pleasant taste, well-remembered over the years. Her body warmed in response but she told herself to forget it. They were history. She shoved out of his arms.

“Babe, things are going to be all right.” Clay gave her a smile that was borderline evil. She'd seen it before and knew he was up to something. “This is going to be a win-win for all of us.”

The Kincaids always came out on the winning side. Her family had been nothing but losers. She'd tried her best, but nothing had changed her luck.

“Dad gave me this.” Clay reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring. He picked up her left hand and slipped it on Tori's ring finger.

“What?” She stared down at an old-fashioned ring that was several sizes too big. The center stone was a diamond so small that a magnifying glass wouldn't help make it much larger. Clustered around the stone were diamond chips the size of pinheads. At least they glittered a little.

“Great-grandmother Swain's engagement ring,” Clay said with unmistakable pride. “Dad got it out of the safe just a little while ago.”

Tears welled up in Tori's eyes. Wait until her mother saw the ring. Never mind that it wasn't the impressive diamond Tori coveted. She had a Kincaid heirloom on her finger. Her mother could die in peace, knowing Tori would become a Kincaid.

“Now it's official.” Clay pressed a sweet kiss into the palm of her ring hand. “We're engaged.”

Engaged.
She could finally say the word and flaunt her ring, the way dozens of her friends had over the years. She'd waited so long for this moment.

Hold it, she thought, staring at the ring on her finger. Why had the judge agreed to this engagement? Her name was now synonymous with scandal.

She swallowed with difficulty and found her voice. “I'm surprised your father agreed to let us marry, considering the mess my sister's caused.”

His eyes darkened as he held her gaze. “Your sister has given Dad a tremendous opportunity.”

Warning bells clanged in her brain. A heavy silence hung in the air. Nobody's fool, Tori knew there was a downside to this.

“You see, Dad's hired a high-priced political consultant. Rob Everett is the best. He helped the President carry the South. Rob says people are interested in law and order and moral values. Dad can get a lot of free publicity by coming out against work furloughs. Cons should do their time.”

Great. Just great. She was being used by the judge to further his career. She smiled smoothly, betraying none of her annoyance. Did it really matter? She was going to be Clay's wife.

“He's planning a news conference. We'll be at his side. Dad's going to say how devastating it is to a family when one of their own commits a crime.”

“We're only half sisters,” Tori reminded him.

Clay nodded but he had a faraway look in his eyes. “This will give Dad a running start on his opponents. With the reward the bank is offering to find Elmer's killer, people will be riveted to their televisions.”

Tori tried to look on the bright side. Maybe she would get some free publicity, too. The judge's speech might even turn Doris Purtle around, and Tori could sell her estate. She would need that commission to throw the kind of wedding the Kincaids would expect. At the very least, becoming a Kincaid would save her career in Twin Oaks.

Tori hated being involved in politics, so she tried for a smile and kept her thoughts focused on the wedding. If they had it soon enough, her mother might be able to attend.
Please, God. Keep her alive until the wedding.

“Don't worry, sweetheart,” Clay said with a smile. “This ring is only temporary. I'm going to buy you the big diamond we saw in Jackson.”

 

“Y
ES INDEEDY
, you're not going to believe this,” Nora told Justin when he walked into the station on the morning following the discovery of the thirty-eight.

“Tell me the state crime lab has run the ballistics test on the gun.” He'd sent it over to Jackson with one of his deputies within half an hour of finding the weapon. It was a top priority test, since there had been only one murder in the state in two weeks.

“No. Of course not.” Her taut features scowled. “They're slower than a dyin' June bug. I'm talking about the tip line. Yes, indeedy. We've received over fifty tips on the Toyota. Kat Wells has been spotted more often than Elvis.”

“The reward has brought them out of the woodwork.” Redd trotted by Justin's side as he walked into his office with Nora. “Any of the tips seem promising?”

“Hard to say. Some are outrageous. I doubt Kat's dancing in a strip joint in New Orleans.”

He struggled not to think about Kat. He'd predicted this from the get-go. The rate of recidivism among ex-cons was astronomical. He had thought he could help change her and like a fool, he'd tricked himself into believing it was working.

“A trucker claims to have sighted her south of Memphis at about six this morning.”

Justin considered the information as he watched Redd curl up under his desk. Memphis was a big town. It would be easy to get lost there. If he were on the run, he would head in that direction.

“Get the police chief in Memphis on the line. I'll talk to him myself.”

Justin looked through the tips while Nora contacted the Memphis police chief. None of the tips looked terribly promising, but you never knew.

“An old guy by the name of Cooter phoned and wants you to call him,” Nora told him while she waited for the police chief to speak with Justin.

He thought about Cooter and the meth labs hidden in the forest. It could wait. Busting the operation wasn't a priority right now. The chief came on the line, and Justin explained the situation. He promised to alert his officers in the field to be on the lookout for the Toyota and Kat.

“Lola Rae called,” Nora told him. “She said to tell you Maria is at work today. Her car broke down in Jackson. That's why she didn't make it in yesterday.”

Justin decided he would question Maria when he had time. He remembered the way she'd unexpectedly appeared at Kat's studio. Perhaps she'd seen something that could be helpful.

 

D
AVID WATCHED
the trucks roll away from the loading dock with the special edition of the
Tribune.
He'd come back last night after the gun had been found and worked until dawn to produce a two-page Extra! He rehashed the murder, the sighting of Kat's car by the Highway Patrol, but his major focus was on the gun found during the search.

It had killed him to write the special edition. Somehow he felt as if he were betraying Kat, when the reality was she had let him down. What Justin had said made sense. Kat had thought no one knew she was meeting Elmer. That's why she'd kept the gun.

“Come on, Max,” he said to the puppy on the leash beside him. “Let's go for a walk.”

The puppy scampered in a circle, twisting the leash around David's knees. Usually David would have smiled at Max's antics, but today he felt lower than he ever had since his accident. Christ! Where did he go wrong? He shouldn't have allowed himself to become emotionally involved. He'd liked Kat and had wanted to help her. He should have known better.

He walked down the street and saw a paper vending machine. Through the glass, he saw the Extra! headline: WEAPON FOUND? His stomach took a dive south as he thought about what he'd written. He'd told the truth, stuck to the facts. Still, he'd condemned Kat, and something inside made him hate himself for it.

He found himself standing, Max at his side, in front of All Washed Up. He looked through the window and saw the shop was empty except for Lola Rae. David opened the door and walked in.

“Hello, I'm David Noyes. I spoke with you on the telephone yesterday about Kat Wells.”

The brunette looked up from the reception desk where she appeared to be totaling receipts on a small calculator. David recalled Kat telling him how friendly and helpful Lola Rae had been. The woman eyed him with unconcealed suspicion.

“I'm her friend. I want to help her.”

Lola Rae nodded. “Me, too. I just never expected…this.”

“What did Kat say the last time you saw her?” he asked although he had already asked her this when he'd phoned.

“Like I told you, I wanted her to join us for dinner.”

“Us?”

“Maria and Gary Don and me. Maria works here and makes awesome Mexican food. Know what I mean? Maria should open a restaurant. And Gary Don is my boyfriend.” She rose up on tiptoe and called, “Maria,
aqui por favor.
”

From the rear room came a diminutive brunette with creamy cocoa-colored skin and intelligent brown eyes. “You need Maria?” she asked in a Spanish accent.

“This is Kat's boss,” Lola Rae explained. “I was telling him about the last time we saw Kat. You'd made tamales, but she couldn't join us.”

“Why not?”

Lola Rae shrugged, but Maria said, “She go see
madre.
Mother.”

“Someone called for an appointment,” Lola Rae said. “I didn't hear Kat say she was on her way to her mother's.” Lola Rae thought a moment. “I'm not surprised though. Her mother treats Kat like dirt, but she's near death. Know what I'm sayin'? What daughter wouldn't want to say goodbye?”

A husky man with sandy hair and a pack of cigarettes in the rolled-up sleeve of his T-shirt shouldered his way through the door. “Hey, cutie,” he said to Lola Rae. “What's the haps?”

“Just talking with Mr. Noyes. He's with the
Trib.
”

“The paper?” The guy turned to David and stuck out his hand. “Gary Don Willingham. I tend bar out at Moonin' N Coonin'. This here's my gal.”

David had never been to the seedy tavern on the outskirts of town. He'd heard the walls were festooned with raccoon skins nailed up by guys who'd shot them. Using flashlights to “tree” raccoons and kill them was a local sport that David preferred not to think about. Moonin' N Coonin' attracted a young crowd and was known as a place where you could score any type of drug and gamble in the back room.

“Babe,” Gary Don said. “Let's talk. I can't see you tonight. Jimmy called in sick. I have to work his shift.”

Lola Rae's lips thinned. She moved out from behind the counter and walked into the back room, Gary Don at her heels.

David turned to Maria and spoke slowly to make sure she understood his question. “Did Kat say anything else about where she was going?”