See No Evil (28 page)

Tristan wasn’t paying attention to Julia. He was still staring at Michelle. “Laura isn’t your mother? Why’d she bring you in?”

“You saw how reckless she was when she tried to kill Garrett two years ago. She was a disaster. I convinced her she needed my help. You’re the one who assumed I was Shannon’s sister. We just let you keep thinking that. Camilla died when she was a baby, before Shannon was born.”

“Then why?” Tristan asked the same question Julia was thinking. The bonds of friendship didn’t go so deep as to kill, did they?

Michelle didn’t answer his question. Instead, she turned to Tristan, hand on her hip. “Go ahead, tell her all about your master plan to restore truth, justice, and the American way.”

Tristan shook his head. “You never understood. Faye was the only one who saw the aesthetic beauty in my plan. Revenge means little if you don’t use the wicked against themselves. Garrett deserved a fate worse than hanging. In destroying his reputation, his image, his own ego, I found justice for my mother. Everyone else was part of the game, the chessboard. It was balanced.”

He looked at Julia as if pleading with her to understand his reasoning. “Laura and I met outside of Garrett’s office. She was going to kill him. I stopped her. Each kill led back to Garrett. I never expected you to go as far back as Jason Ridge.”

“If I hadn’t,” Julia agreed, “we wouldn’t have figured it out so quickly. But everything’s public record. You just have to know where to look.”

“Let’s go,” Michelle said, motioning toward Tristan with her gun. “Go help her up. We’ll drive across the border and if anyone tries to interfere, we have a hostage.”

“Why did you stop here?” Julia needed to buy more time. She couldn’t get in a car with them.

“I had to get money,” Michelle said as if the question was stupid. “You fucked up my timeline, I hadn’t planned on leaving until tomorrow.” She glared at Tristan. “What are you waiting for?”

He stared at Michelle with an intensity that scared Julia. “Why did you help Laura? If you weren’t Shannon’s sister, what hold did she have over you?”

“She had no hold over me,” Michelle snapped. “You’re wasting time.”

“There was no reason for you to get involved. You told me a long time ago that you couldn’t save Shannon in time. What did that mean?”

Michelle let out a long, exasperated sigh.

“Look, Tristan, it was just a game. It was never supposed to go that far. Jason broke up with me to date my best friend. And she went out with him! I couldn’t believe it. The traitor. She slept with him, was all goo-goo-eyed. If she only knew how down and dirty he could be, but she was so fucking
romantic
about everything.”

“He raped her,” Julia said before she realized she’d spoken.

“Funny what a little mixing of Rohypnol and Ketamine will do to a man. I thought they were just used on women,” Michelle said thoughtfully. “Anyway, I screwed it up, okay? I just wanted Shannon to see how rough Jason
really
liked it. I didn’t think he’d hurt her, and I didn’t think she’d go all batty and tell everyone he raped her. I figured she’d dump him and he’d come willingly back to me. And I certainly didn’t think she’d go off and kill herself! Who does something that stupid? Only whack jobs like Faye.”

“Shut up! Don’t talk about Faye like that—” Tristan began.

“Faye was as crazy as they come and you know it.” Michelle’s eyes hardened. “I know what you did with her. How could you?”

“You know nothing about Faye.”

Julia saw her opportunity. “Faye was alive and well when I left her.”

Tristan shook his head, his hands rubbing his scalp. “Just stop!”

“I want you to know the truth,” said Julia. “Michelle gave Faye the knife.” It became clear to Julia then. “You loved Faye, didn’t you?”

“Don’t talk about her,” he said.

“You loved her and Michelle was jealous. She found out and used Faye’s weakness against her.”

“Faye was too good,” he said. “She’d never have cut herself deep enough to die. She knew what she was doing.”

“Not if someone drugged her or manipulated her. Faye was taking the entire blame for all the murders. We knew someone else was involved, but we didn’t know about you. We knew about Michelle, though, and we were looking for Laura Chase. Tristan, you would have gotten away with it, at least long enough to disappear and leave the country.

“Michelle feared Faye would turn
her
in. That’s why she got her to kill herself. Michelle did it to protect herself.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Michelle spat out viciously. “By the time the police figured anything out, I’d be as far away as Tristan.” But Michelle’s eyes kept darting to the man who, until now, had barely moved from the door.

“You killed Faye?” Tristan stepped toward Michelle.

“She was going to destroy you,” said Michelle. “Destroy all of us.”

Tristan shook his head slowly back and forth. “Faye
worshipped
you. She turned herself in to protect
you
just as much as to protect me.”

“Bullshit,” Michelle said. “Faye would never have raised a finger to save my ass. When I saw those pictures, I realized the truth. You used me. You and Faye must have had a grand laugh at my expense.”

“You know nothing of my relationship with Faye.”

“Relationship? You call that little sex-and-vampire act the two of you had going a
relationship
?”

While Michelle and Tristan were focused on each other, Julia began to scoot along the railing toward the spiral staircase at the far end of the loft. She gritted her teeth at the sharp stabs of muscle pain as her body regained sensation.

Tristan glared at Michelle, his hand reaching inside his pants pocket, eyes sharp with wild intelligence. “You know what? I recruited Faye. I brought her in from the very beginning. Then I told you to recruit her. But she was already on board.” He barked out a laugh. “Faye had as much control over you as you thought you had over her.”

Michelle’s face contorted with rage. “You’re as crazy as she was. I didn’t kill Faye. She voluntarily used the knife I gave her on herself. Why? Because I told her
you
wanted her to.”

Tristan pulled a butterfly knife out of his pocket, the
click-click
of metal on metal as he flicked his wrist to unsheathe the blade. Julia bit her tongue to stop a yelp from escaping.

He brought the knife up without hesitation.

“You bitch!” he screamed.

Michelle raised her gun and fired.

Tristan’s body slammed back against the wall, a smear of bright red blood blending with the black ink of the painting behind him. His knife dropped to the floor.

“Perfect,” Michelle said. “I’ll have time to get away after all.” She turned to Julia and smiled.

Julia’s blood ran cold.

THIRTY-TWO

“T
HERE ARE AT LEAST
three people inside,” said SWAT team leader Tom Blade from his command post in the rear of Tristan Lord’s warehouse/art studio. There were no windows on this side of the building—it was all brick—but Blade had a team up on the roof using an amplified infrared imager to detect body heat inside.

“Let’s go,” Connor said impatiently. Julia had been missing three hours.

“Wait.” Will caught Connor’s eye. “There’s no way to get into the building undetected. They’re on the third floor. They can see the whole open space below them.”

“We can’t just sit here and twiddle our thumbs!”

Blade motioned at the blueprints. “There are skylights here and here. We have men on the roof already and they’re working on unsealing the windows. We can get in here”—he pointed—“on the far side of the third floor.”

Connor stared at the plans. “Why not go in here, on the bottom floor? This doorway is under the third floor. They can’t see anyone, and we’ve already disabled the alarm.”

“There’s no easy way to get to them,” said Blade. “A metal staircase going up. No way to get up there undetected.”

Connor wasn’t sure. “But if they come down, we’ll have the element of surprise.”

Blade thought about it. He was a sharp cop, but had been promoted to the position only six months ago after his boss was killed in the line of duty. Connor suspected Blade was uncomfortable in his role as leader.

Will leaned over and told Connor, “We’ve found Laura Chase.”

“What does she have to say?”

“I should have said we’ve found where she’s been living. Under a new identity: Marisa Wohler. The police in Maine talked to her ex-husband and got her phone number. We traced the number to a Marisa Wohler, then e-crimes traced Wohler. She miraculously appeared eighteen months ago. There was no record of her in San Diego, California, or in the rest of the country prior to November 2005. Get this,” Will added, “she’s been living around the corner from Garrett Bowen’s mansion in Rancho Santa Fe.”

Connor stared at the rear door of the art studio. Two SWAT team members framed the exit. He said to Blade, “Let me go in.”

Before he could answer, a gunshot sounded in the building.

Blade was on the com with his team on the roof. “Do you have a visual?”

“Negative.”

Blade glanced at Connor, then told his team. “Possible hostage situation. Proceed with caution.”

Connor drew his weapon and followed the SWAT team inside. As soon as the door opened, another gunshot sounded.

Julia!

“God, I really hated him.” Michelle was looking contemptuously down at Tristan. Her face showed no emotion, nothing but a mild irritation.

Stumbling, Julia scrambled for the staircase as soon as Michelle turned her back.

“Stop or you’re dead.”

Julia stopped.

“Sit down, against the railing.”

Julia hesitated.

Michelle fired the gun into the ceiling. Dust rained down on Julia and she sat back against the railing. She’d been so close!

“Move back to your original position, Ms. Chandler.”

Reluctantly, Julia did as Michelle commanded.

“Good.” Michelle smiled as if Julia were a prize student.

“The police know everything.”

“Like I care? I’ll be so far gone they’ll never find me. Let’s make this fast.” Michelle popped out the cartridge of the 9mm and Julia recognized it as her own gun. Michelle pressed the gun into Julia’s hand, then put it on the floor next to her. Michelle put on gloves and picked up the knife Tristan had dropped.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s perfect. He stabs you and as you lay dying, you shoot him. The police will figure it out, but it’ll take them a couple days, and by that time I’ll be on some beach far, far away.”

There was no doubt in Julia’s mind that Michelle would go through with her plan without hesitation or remorse.

Julia reached for the gun. The cartridge was gone, but there was a round chambered. She had only one shot.

She put the gun behind her back and slowly stood, shaking off the nausea sweeping through her.

Michelle whipped around. “Sit down!” She strode over to Julia, knife in hand, irritated.

Julia swallowed nervously. “Michelle, let’s figure out a solution to this. No one else needs to die. I have—”

“Shut up.”

“—lots of friends in the—”

“I said shut up!” Michelle stomped her foot hard on Julia’s shin and Julia winced, biting her lip.

Michelle was listening. Something downstairs had caught her attention.

Julia didn’t hear anything unusual, just her rapidly beating heart vibrating in her ears.

“Someone’s downstairs,” Michelle said. “Change of plans.”

“You won’t get away with this.”

Michelle laughed. “You sound like a stupid television show. Get up.”

Julia sagged. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Then you’ll die here.”

“So will you,” Julia said, pulling out the gun from behind her back.

Michelle’s face contorted in anger as she brought the knife up in her fist. Julia pulled the trigger. The one bullet hit Michelle in the upper abdomen. Reflexively, Julia pressed the trigger again, even though she knew there were no more bullets.

Michelle’s blue eyes reflected shock and disbelief. She raised her hand, the knife still clenched tight in her fist. Her body shook violently as blood seeped from the wound.

Michelle lunged forward, the sharp blade coming down fast toward Julia’s face.

Julia grabbed Michelle’s wrist. The momentum brought the knife to Julia’s cheek.

Julia winced at the sudden sharp pain, but didn’t loosen her hold on Michelle’s arm. She dropped the empty gun and used both hands to hold Michelle’s knife hand away from her. Michelle fought back, her mouth soundlessly opening and closing, her left hand reaching for Julia’s neck.

Julia squirmed from the woman’s grasp, but Michelle was above her, gravity aiding her momentum and fury.

They struggled for control of the knife. Julia lost her grip. She tried to roll away from the blade, but it cut deep into her shoulder. Pain shot down Julia’s arm and she screamed, clutching her bloody left shoulder.

Michelle used that moment to push Julia to the railing, pulling her up with unusual strength. She bent Julia backward, trying to throw her over the edge. Julia’s vision blurred with the strain of keeping Michelle from killing her. Pulse racing, Julia fought the dying girl. But Michelle had nothing left to lose and wanted to take Julia with her.

“Bitch,” Michelle spat in her face. “You bitch!”

Michelle still grasped the knife, now dripping with Julia’s blood. Julia blinked, fear and panic making her heart race and her head swirl. Michelle brought the knife down again, but Julia moved to the right, grabbed the woman’s wrist, and slammed it hard against the metal railing.

Michelle screamed, but didn’t relinquish the knife.

All Julia wanted now was to get away, but Michelle kept her pinned to the rail, trying to push her over.

Julia’s mind clouded; her vision faded. She swallowed and tasted blood.

“You’ll die with me,” Michelle spat in her ear, the knife inches from Julia’s neck.

“No. I. Won’t.”

Julia didn’t want to let go of Michelle’s wrist, but her instincts told her she had to.

She released Michelle. The killer’s momentum kept her falling forward and over the railing.

Julia reached for her, but missed. The body hit the cement floor a moment later.

“Julia!”

Connor had found her.

“Oh God, Julia.” Connor stripped off his T-shirt.

She reached for his face, but her hand fluttered back down. She had no strength.

Connor’s training took over. He immediately applied pressure to the wound. “Medics!” he shouted. “Are you hurt anywhere else?” He examined her body, saw blood everywhere.

She shook her head, closing her eyes against the pain.

“Hold on, sweetheart, the ambulance is almost here.” He heard sirens approaching. “We’ll get you sewed up in no time.”

SWAT team leader Tom Blade came over. “Two dead. Male, twenties, over there.” He gestured against the back wall of the studio where Tristan Lord lay, his blood splattered on the wall behind him.

“Downstairs, female.”

Connor demanded, “I need the medics up here, ASAP.”

“Right here.” Another SWAT team member came in. SWAT had their own field medics.

Connor moved over to give him room, one hand on Julia’s wound and the other grasping her hand.

“What’s your name, darlin’?” the medic asked.

“Julia,” she whispered.

“Julia Chandler,” Connor said, swallowing his fear. There was so much blood.

“Looks like a nice clean wound. Kincaid here is just going to keep pressure on it while I clean up these little nicks, see if we have anything else we need to be worried about.”

“She’s going to be fine, right?” Connor asked.

“I am fine,” Julia said, but her voice was faint. And she was so pale.

Connor panicked, staring at the medic. “Tell me.”

“She’s lost a lot of blood. Keep that pressure on. I’m doing all I can.”

“Connor,” Julia said faintly.

“Shh, don’t talk.” His own chest burned with suppressed emotion.

“I love you.”

Connor’s breath caught. “Oh, Julia. I love you, too, babe. Stay here, okay? Just hold on.”

Her eyes closed. “Julia?” She’d lost consciousness.

There was commotion outside the door as two paramedics came up with a basket. “We can’t get the stretcher up here.”

“I typed her blood. A-positive. She needs plasma ASAP.”

The SWAT medic tied a tourniquet tight above the wound and the paramedics strapped her into the basket. Connor ran downstairs with one medic while the other two hoisted the basket over the railing. The art studio was full of crime scene techs and cops, but Connor barely registered the commotion. All he could think about was how pale Julia looked, how much blood she’d lost.

And how much he loved her.

“I’m with you,” Connor said as they strapped Julia onto the stretcher.