Killer Takes All (31 page)

Tuesday, April 12, 2005
3:00 p.m.

S
tacy pulled up in front of the Noble mansion. She saw that Kay Noble had wasted no time: A For Sale sign hung from the property’s iron fence; a minivan emblazoned with a moving company’s logo sat in the drive.

Stacy parked, climbed out of her vehicle and started for the house. As she reached the front porch, Kay emerged from the house with a man Stacy didn’t recognize. From the way he was dressed and the clipboard he was carrying, she assumed he was from the moving company.

The two shook hands; he told her he would be in touch, then walked away.

“Stacy,” the other woman said warmly, turning toward her. “What a nice surprise.”

“I wanted to check on you and Alice. See how you’re both doing.”

“Carrying on. Moving on.”

“I see that.”

“Too many memories.” She released a sad-sounding breath. “It’s been especially hard on Alice. She’s been so quiet.”

I’ll just bet. Probably too terrified to speak.

Stacy made a clucking noise she hoped sounded genuine. “It’s to be expected, I would think. She lost her father in a shocking way. She was exposed to a horror beyond the comprehension of most girls her age.”

“I’m getting her counseling. Her doctor said to expect healing to take time.”

The woman was the picture of love and concern. An award-winning performance, Stacy thought. Oscar-worthy.

“I just hope one day she can forget.”

“May I see her?”

“Of course. Come in.”

Stacy followed the other woman into the home. She saw that they had already begun consolidating their things for packing. She glanced around. “Is Valerie here? I’d like to tell her hello, as long as I’m here.”

“Valerie’s gone. She’s moved on.”

“Really? I’m surprised.”

“She was Leo’s hire, and now that he’s gone… I guess she didn’t feel comfortable.”

Mrs. Maitlin had thought of herself as so much more than a “hire.” She had considered herself one of the family. That had been obvious.

Stacy felt a moment of compassion for the woman. But only a moment: considering the circumstances, she was better off this way.

Kay crossed to the bottom of the stairs. “Alice!” she called. “Stacy’s here to see you.” She waited a moment, then called her daughter again.

When she still got no answer, she looked at Stacy. “That’s the other thing, she’s hardly come out of her room.”

Again, probably afraid to. Probably couldn’t bear to look at her mother.

The woman started up the stairs. “We owe you our lives, Stacy. And I want you to know how much I appreciate what you did for us. The chances you took.”

Her dark eyes welled with tears and Stacy once again silently congratulated her on her performance.

“If you hadn’t happened into our lives…I don’t even want to think about it. We’ll never forget you.”

“I’ll never forget you, either, Kay.”

They reached Alice’s room; Kay tapped on the closed door. “Alice? Stacy’s here to see you.”

The girl came to the door. When she saw Stacy, her lips lifted in a weak smile. “Hi, Stacy.”

“Hey,” she said softly. “How are you?”

The girl looked at her mother. “Okay, I guess.”

“Kay,” Stacy said, “go do what you have to do. I’ll visit with Alice awhile.”

The woman hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll be downstairs.”

Stacy watched her exit the room, then led Alice to the window seat. She wished she could close the door, but she didn’t want to arouse Kay’s suspicions.

Once seated, Stacy didn’t waste time. Tone hushed, she began, “I received a very interesting package today.” The girl didn’t comment and Stacy went on. “A laptop computer. An Apple. You know anything about it?”

Alice glanced toward the open doorway, obviously terrified. Her throat worked, as if she was trying to speak but couldn’t.

Stacy covered her hand. “I’ll take care of you. I promise. Did you send me the computer?”

She nodded, eyes welling with tears.

“Where did you get it?”

“Found it,” she whispered. “In a box of things Mom set out for trash pickup.”

Trash pickup.
Stacy flexed her fingers, fighting the anger that surged through her. That computer had been Cassie’s, her most prized possession. The way Kay had discarded it was a metaphor for the way she had trashed Cassie’s life.

“What made you go through the box?” she asked.

“I saw her put some of Dad’s things in it. Things I wanted. She’s been doing a lot of that. She—”

Her throat seemed to close over the words and she cleared it. “I knew she’d argue with me, call everything I wanted junk, so when she went for a massage, I went through the box.”

“And that’s when you found it?”

“Yes. In a black plastic garbage bag. I don’t know why I looked in the bag, but the minute I saw it, I knew something was wrong. Mom never used an Apple. None of us did.”

“What happened next?”

“I…I opened it. And turned it on.”

She choked up then, tears spilling over. “I recognized your friend. And I knew.”

The house phone rang. Stacy heard the jangle from the hall. Once, then twice. It stopped, followed by the faint murmur of Kay answering.

“Why didn’t you call the police?”

“Because I…I trust you. I knew you wouldn’t let her get away with it.” She looked down at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap. “I’ve been so afraid she’d somehow…find out what I did. What I found. I think she means to…to—”

“What, Alice?”

“I think she means to kill me, too.”

Stacy thought she did, too.

“I’m going to call Malone,” she said softly, reaching for her holstered phone, finding the holster empty.

She’d left it in her car.

“What?” Alice asked.

“My cell’s in the car. You stay put, I’ll be right back.”

She grabbed her hand, squeezing tightly. “Don’t leave me!”

“I’m just running to the car. I promise I’ll—”

“Use the house phone.”

She shook her head. “Too risky.”

“I’m coming, too.”

Stacy freed her hand. “Stay put. We don’t want to arouse your mother’s suspicions.”

“Please, Stacy.” Her voice quivered. “I’m scared.”

And no wonder, poor kid. Her mother was a cold-blooded killer.

Stacy glanced out Alice’s window. Her car sat parked at the curb. She could retrieve the phone and be back in five minutes. Or less.

“My Glock’s in my purse. You know how to shoot?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Aim and pull the trigger. Think you can do that?” The girl nodded. “I’ll leave the gun with you. But don’t touch it unless you have no other option. Understand?”

She said she did and Stacy opened the window. “Call me if you need me. I can be back up here in seconds.”

She took one glance back at the teenager before she exited the room. The child was huddled on the window seat, Stacy’s purse hugged to her chest.

Poor kid. How was she going to get beyond this?

Stacy descended the stairs, forcing herself to move at an unhurried pace, just in case Kay appeared.

She made her car, retrieved her cell phone and called Malone.

He picked up. He sounded tense. “I can’t talk.”

PID. “Then just listen. Get over to the Noble place. Bring Tony and a couple uniforms with you.”

“I don’t have time for games just now—”

“Actually, the game’s why I’m calling. It’s still in play.”

“Are you—”

“Certain? Absolutely.”

“Stacy! Help!”

She looked up; the two women were silhouetted in the window. They were struggling. It looked as if Kay was trying to overwhelm her daughter.

“Get off of me! I hate you!”

Stacy swore. “I’ve got to go! Get over here—”

“What’s going—”

“Just get over here. Now!”

She hung up and ran toward the house.

“Murderer!” Alice screamed. “You killed Dad!”

Stacy reached the front steps and launched herself up them, across the porch. The gun’s blast came as she cleared the door. A high-pitched scream followed.

God, no. Please let the girl be safe.

Stacy took the stairs two at a time, making the top landing in seconds. She reached the girl’s room. Alice faced the window. It stood open; Stacy saw that the screen had been pushed out.

“Alice?”

The girl turned. The gun slipped from her fingers. “I killed her.”

“Where—”

Then she knew. She ran to the window and peered out. Kay lay faceup in the garden bed, her eyes open. Vacant.

Alice began to cry, the wail of sirens mingled with her sobs. “Come on,” she said softly, wrapping her arm around the girl and leading her to the bedroom door. “They’re going to need to ask you some questions. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

Tuesday, April 12, 2005
4:10 p.m.

M
alone, Tony and two cruisers arrived. Stacy met them at the front door, briefly explained what had occurred and let them get to work.

She stayed by Alice’s side, all the while imagining the various teams processing the scene. She knew what to expect. For one thing, her Glock was now evidence in a murder case. She would not be getting it back for some time. In addition, they would need a detailed statement from both her and Alice.

And they would have to call
Child Welfare Services
to come for Alice.

It was going to be damn difficult to let her go. She didn’t know if she would be able to.

After what seemed an eternity, but was in reality about an hour, Spencer sought them out. He squatted in front of Alice. “You think you’re up to answering a few questions?”

The girl looked at Stacy, eyes wide and terrified.

“May I stay with her?” Stacy asked.

When Spencer agreed that she could, the teenager breathed an audible sigh of relief. She began with how she had found the computer, how she realized the truth and about sending it to Stacy and why.

Her voice quivered when she reached the most recent part of the story. “She must have overheard us talking. Stacy left, and she appeared in the doorway. She was so…angry. She called me a…an ungrateful little bitch.”

She clutched Stacy’s hand. “She flew into the room. Going after me like a crazy person. I didn’t know what to do,” she whispered, voice small and shaky. “She had a…had a hold of me. She was dragging me toward the window…I had the gun. Stacy’s gun. I took it in my hands and I…I—”

She broke down then. Sobbing. No doubt over her mother’s betrayal. The loss of her father. And despair for her life, which had been forever altered.

It broke Stacy’s heart. She held the girl while she cried, giving Malone her statement in pieces.

Tony ambled over to where they sat. “Good news,” he said.

They all looked up at him. The words felt odd. Inappropriate and out of place. Could there be anything good about this day?

“I just talked to your aunt Grace, Alice,” Tony said. “She was able to book a flight leaving tonight and will be in around midnight. I figured I’d meet her plane.”

“Aunt Grace,” the girl repeated, a tremor in her voice. As if she had forgotten she still had family. As if being reminded now that she did was the greatest gift she could have been given.

Spencer met Stacy’s eyes briefly. “You go home, Tony. We’ll meet that flight. The three of us.”

Midnight at the New Orleans airport was a little creepy. A market the size of the Big Easy received very few flights this time of night. Their footsteps echoed in the cavernous terminal, all the kiosks and vendors had closed, and only a handful of weary agents manned the terminal desks.

Alice said little but hung close to Stacy as they waited at the end of the terminal. Thankfully, the woman’s flight arrived on time. The pair held each other for a long time, clinging to one another and crying. As gently as she could, Stacy nudged them along, first to Baggage Claim for the woman’s luggage, then the parking garage.

“We took the liberty of making a hotel reservation,” Stacy said. “If you made other arrangements—”

“Thank you,” Grace said. “No…I didn’t even think…I always stay with…”

Her words trailed off. They all knew what she had been about to say.

She had always stayed with her brother. Leo.

Within thirty minutes, they had dropped Grace and Alice at the hotel. Stacy accompanied the pair inside, made certain there wasn’t a problem with the reservation, then returned to the car.

She buckled up. Spencer looked at her. “Where am I taking you, Stacy?”

She held his gaze. “I don’t want to be alone, Spencer.”

He nodded and pulled away from the curb.

Wednesday, April 13, 2005
3:30 a.m.

S
tacy sat bolt upright in bed, awakened by the truth. “Oh, my God,” she said, bringing a hand to her mouth. “She lied.”

“Go back to sleep,” Spencer mumbled.

“You don’t understand.” She shook him. “She lied about everything.”

He cracked open his eyes. “Who?”

“Alice.”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Her head filled with the memory of the day she had carried Leo’s mail to his office. Valerie had asked her to do it; she’d set it on the top of his laptop computer. Her focus had been on the mail itself, on the Gallery124 invitation.

Not on the computer.

No longer. With her mind’s eye, she could see it clearly. Titanium case, a distinctive apple-shaped logo at its center.

“Alice told me she found Cassie’s computer and knew it was wrong because no one in their family used an Apple. But Leo did. It was on his desk.”

“You’re certain about this?”

“Yes, positive.”

“It’d be really easy to verify.”

Stacy struggled to come to grips with what she was thinking.
Could it have been Alice all along?

“The law books,” Stacy said. “The
DSM-IV.
She was studying, covering her ass. Just in case.”

He sat up. “You realize what you’re suggesting, right? That the teenager was an integral part of the plan.”

“I’m not suggesting that at all. I think the plan was hers alone.”

She had his full attention now, she saw. All traces of sleep had fled his features. “Alice planned every move, by herself?”

“Yes.”

“She brought Troy in.”

“Yes.”

Stacy shook her head.
It hurt. She didn’t want it to be true. Didn’t want Alice to be that person.

He was silent a moment. “Do you really think a sixteen-year-old could have pulled this off?”

“She’s not an ordinary teenager. She’s a genius. An experienced gamer. I imagine a brilliant strategist.”

I’m smarter than both of them. Did he tell you that?

“She made a point of telling me how smart she was. She was very proud of her IQ. Arrogant about it, really.”

He rubbed a hand along his jaw. “But why’d she do it, Stacy? The money? We’re talking about both her parents, for God’s sake.”

“The money was secondary. She wanted her freedom. She felt she deserved it. They were holding her back. Overprotective. She said so. They kept her from going to university, insisted on having her home-tutored.”

“You overheard her and Kay fighting, saw Kay trying to kill her.”

Stacy shook her head. “No, I saw them struggling. Heard Alice’s shouted accusations.”

“Which confirmed what you already believed.”

“Yes.” Stacy dragged a hand through her tangled hair. “Kay was most likely trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Trying to calm Alice, bring her to her senses. Why didn’t I see it until now?”

“
If
what you’re thinking is true.”

Stacy met his gaze, determined. “It is.”

“You’re going to need proof. More than catching her in a lie that’s based on a memory you recalled while asleep.”

She laughed, the sound tight. Angry. “I’m not going to let her get away with this.”

“So, what are you going to do, hero?”