Night Hunter (45 page)

“
Reg, that night, after Corinne was attacked, I told the police about the fight. He became the number one suspect, and they took him in for questioning, but for some reason they never arrested him.”

“
Oh.”

“
I don’t mean to scare you, but I thought you should know.” The phone line hummed. “Reg?”

“
I’m here. I’ll ... ah —I’m glad you told me. I know what to do.” Her voice sounded leaden, emotionless. “I’ll try to come by this evening.”

“
I’d like that.”

They exchanged good-byes.

Regina couldn’t think straight. Too much was coming to her all at once. Where was John the night Corinne was splashed? Where was he when Tammy died? She already knew where he was when Donna was attacked—at the station. Corinne ... lover? John ... suspect? Donna. Tammy. Suspect. Suspect . . . lover ... suspect ... Jesus.

With her heart racing, she picked up the phone, called the desk, and asked to have her car sent around. She got out of bed and quickly dressed. Then she stuffed her clothes into the overnight bag and ran her fingers through her hair. Looking around the room, she saw the clothes John had been wearing last night still lying on the floor in front of the fireplace. She saw the rose on the mantelpiece. And she felt as though she’d been slapped in the face.

She snatched up her things and hurried out the door.

John found Rachel at the registration desk. He paid the bill, then brought up the Cordes again, saying how sorry he was to have missed them by only one week. “The judge promised to give me a pointer or two on the golf course. My chipping’s the pits.”

“
According to Judge Corde, his chipping wasn’t so good either. He had me make an appointment with the pro at the golf course that Saturday.”

“
Morning or afternoon?”

“
Had to be morning, because that afternoon I saw him board the courtesy shuttle.”

“
Courtesy shuttle?”

Rachel pointed to a Poster of a minibus. “Twice on Saturday the Meadowvale runs a shuttle into the city. Just another courtesy service we offer our guests.”

John read the time schedule: Departs 8:30
a.m
. and 1
p.m.
—Returns 6
p.m.

Was it possible that while Amelia and the Rolls-Royce were at the Napa Valley Chateau, the judge was on a shuttle going into San Francisco? Five hours. Plenty of time to drown a woman and be back before dinner.

“
You’re sure he was on that shuttle?”

“
Oh, yes. It leaves right out there,” she pointed. “At the main entrance.”

John turned just in time to see Regina pushing through the double glass doors. He saw her gesticulating to the doorman.

What the hell?

“
Excuse me,” he said, and rushed across the lobby to the main doors.

Regina was climbing behind the wheel of her car when he pushed out onto the portico. He called her name. He saw her glance over at him, her face a mask of perplexity, then the car shot forward and sped away.

Baffled, he hurried back to their room. Had she left a note to explain where she had gone and why? Had something happened to Kristy? To Donna? Christ, whatever it was, he thought, she could have taken a moment to inform him.

Regina’s things were gone from the room. There was no note.

What the hell happened?

Had she awakened filled with remorse for their night of lovemaking? That was hardly a reason for running off without a word. What then?

John sat slumped in one of the two wingback chairs facing the fireplace. He stayed that way for a long time, thinking, trying to sort it out. When he heard a key slide into the lock, his heart skipped in his chest. She had come back. But it was only the maid wanting to clean the room.

He looked at his watch. 8:25. He had a shuttle to catch.

“
Looks like the alternator,” the mechanic said from under the hood of the station wagon.

Regina sighed with frustration. She had pulled into the Shell station on Highway 101 just outside San Rafael for gas. After filling up, the car had refused to start.

“
Can you fix it? I’ve got to be in San Francisco this afternoon.”

“
Ball Automotive in San Rafael should have an alternator. I’ll send one of the boys over for it. Should have you outta here by noon.”

It was 9:00. She had three hours to kill. She needed coffee and, though she wasn’t hungry, felt she should get something in her stomach. She crossed the street to a coffee shop.

She used the pay phone to call Max at the station. “Max, I’m in San Rafael. My car broke down. It’s being fixed now.”

“
How soon?”

“
Noon.” She heard voices in the background. Max was talking to someone else.

“
Regina, Nolan--”

“
Max, I’ll be there.”

“
Nolan wants to call in a backup.”

Regina knew perfectly well who the backup would be and she was about to protest, but thought better of it. “Okay, let him. But if I’m there in time, I go on.”

“
That’s a promise,” he answered. “Say, what are you doing in San Rafael?”

“
It’s a long story. I’ll talk to you later.”

She was sitting in a small, dingy room; the sparse furnishings around her were old and cheap. Furnishings Amelia would be loath to touch, let alone own. But they were hers, that much she knew. The view from the window was as depressing as the interior she wished to escape. Shrouded in a bone-chilling ocean fog, the blank structures of factories and dock warehouses loomed like things from a deadly holocaust; only the mournful horn of a freighter in the harbor gave life to the dismal scene.

Amelia cried silently, alone in her despair. A ringing telephone broke through the quiet, confusing, yet bringing a ray of promise and hope.

She was dreaming. Thank God, that dreary existence was nothing more than her subconscious fear come to torment her. Amelia nearly sobbed with relief. But as she pulled herself out of the dregs of the nightmare, she suddenly felt a deadness inside.

Oh God, nothing had changed since the night before when, after that endless party, she had taken two Demerols and had finally fallen asleep just before dawn.

The phone rang again. Amelia rolled on her side and groped for it. A hand closed over hers.

“
I have it, dear.” Matthew smiled, lifting the receiver.

She lay back down.

Matthew listened, then said, “Yes, that is curious. I’ll tell her. Good day.” He hung up, turned to Amelia. “That was the cleaners. It seems a linen jacket you took in practically disintegrated. It’s beyond repair.”

“
What?” Amelia sat up alarmed. “I don’t understand.”

“
The woman on the phone said some sort of caustic substance must have splashed on it. The fibers broke down completely during the dry-cleaning process. What could it have been?”

“
I have no idea,” she said, sounding mildly perplexed while her heart thumped madly. “No idea at all.” But she did know. She had been wearing that jacket the day she was accosted in Fletcher’s parking garage. She vaguely recalled something wet splashing against her purse before it was lost to her. But the jacket had been splattered, too.
Acid.
She had been a victim after all. The
first
victim. And she couldn’t tell anyone now because, fearing Matthew would be suspicious, she had kept the attack a secret. It had to have been Fletcher. He was the only one who knew she would be in the garage at that particular time. But why? Where was he now? Would he come after her again?

The phone rang again, Matthew answered.

“
Yes, Mrs. Corde is in. May I ask who’s calling?”

She propped herself on her elbows.

Matthew handed her the phone. “It’s Nolan Lake.”

Amelia felt the blood rush to her face as she watched her husband leave the bed. Why was Nolan calling her at home on a Saturday? First the acid and now this. It was more than she could stand in one morning.

“
Hello.”

“
Amelia, this may be a break for both of us. Regina has a show this afternoon and her car has broken down north of the city. There’s a chance she won’t make it here in time.”

“
Oh?” She looked up to see Matthew going through one of his drawers, seemingly moving garments around without purpose.

“
I want you here in case she fails to turn up at air-time.”

Amelia worried her lower lip. She could feel Matthew’s gaze on her now. “I. . .”

“
Perhaps this job isn’t as important to you as you led me to believe, Amelia.”

“
Yes,” she said in a rush, glancing at Matthew. Their eyes met, held. She looked away. “Yes, I’ll be there. What time do you want me?”

“
You’d better come as soon as you can so we can go over the format. Even if she shows, we might be able to squeeze her out.”

“
Yes, all right.” She hung up.

Matthew folded his arms over his sunken chest. “Nolan Lake. Isn’t he the husband of your friend? The producer?”

She nodded.

“
What could he possibly want with you?”

She cleared her throat. “Regina, who has taken over for Donna, may be indisposed. He wondered if I might host the show in her stead.” She couldn’t believe how calm she sounded.

“
Oh? And you agreed?”

She nodded.

He slowly unbuttoned his pajama top. “I don’t understand,” he said quietly, beginning to pace. “How is it that you were even considered as a replacement? Have you been keeping things from me?”

“
It was only a germ of an idea. Nothing concrete. I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

“
Not interested in what my wife does?” He pulled off the top. “Would this be a steady replacement?”

She forced herself to look at him. “Perhaps.”

“
Perhaps.” His head bobbed slowly. “I thought we had an agreement that I would support you, meet all your needs financially, and you would be a homemaker. I know the word has a less than admirable distinction nowadays, but the home you oversee is certainly not a hovel. It’s been in my family for half a century.”

“
It’s a beautiful house.”

“
Of course I can’t order you to stay home. If you want to work there’s no way I can forbid it.”

“
Matthew--”

He held up a hand. “I feel as though I’ve failed you in some way. Have I, Amelia?”

“
No.”

“
Then can you explain to me why you feel the need to take a job? I had no objection to you offering your services to that PBS station as a volunteer, but this appears to be a career move. Am I correct?”

“
It’s not the money. You’ve been very generous to me,” she lied. “It’s—I ...” She realized there was nothing she could say to rectify the situation. Matthew would feel threatened by any answer she could come up with. “I’ve committed myself for today. I must go.”