A Good Excuse To Be Bad (6 page)

 

I
hadn't been to the McArthur Mansion in a minute, but to say that they had had an extreme makeover would be a flat-out lie. From the security gate, we saw magnolia motley lining the front façade, a marble water fountain that twinkled in the night, and a home that made my place look smaller and less approachable than Granny's old outhouse. And the gate looked like something from a
Mission Impossible
movie. I stared at the gate. When did all this happen?

“Do you know the password?” Justus pointed at the security pad at the foot of the gate.

“Nope.” I pressed a few buttons until the gate opened.

Justus's left eyebrow almost lifted past his forehead. He chuckled. “Yes, you did.”

“No, I guessed. You know, twin-power.” I touched my forehead while the gates opened, then drove forward. “Sometimes I think Ava's in my head.”

“Is that true? Can you guys read each other's minds?”

“Nope, but stranger things have happened.”

“Of course. What was I thinking? My nephews . . . the things they come up with. It makes me wonder sometimes.”

“Mmmm . . .” I sighed as I veered right into the curve of the front drive. “Ava and I aren't close enough anymore to feel anything but disdain for each other.”

“There must be something there between you, because your guess was a good one.”

“It was, wasn't it?”

I parked my car in the front drive, a bit away from the fountain. I didn't want water messing up my new wax job. Justus stepped out, walked around to my side, then opened the door. He held his hand out for me. I hesitated before I took it.

He looked at me. “Having second thoughts?”

I looked down at my hands. They trembled. The lie about the keypad entry and Ava's drop-off had my nerves bad. I shook my head. “Nope, I'm good to go.”

Yep, I lied again. Call it a talent. Yet, this time Justus didn't seem to buy it. He wouldn't let my hand go. He stood in front of me and said nothing, but I could tell his eyes were searching for the truth. He had great eyes.

“Justus, let's go. It's too quiet out here. I don't like it.” I searched the grounds as we walked toward the front door.

The place was lit like an elegant Christmas tree. I wondered how they slept with all these lights on in the front. We stopped short of the double entrance doors and he turned to me.

“Before we go inside, I need to tell you something that I've wanted to say long before you called me tonight,” he said.

My heart skipped again. “What is it?”

He opened his mouth, then a toe-curling shriek rippled through my body. It was a woman's scream. I dropped his hands and turned toward where the sound came from.

“What was that?” Justus asked.

“Ava.” I leaned on the doorbell.

I didn't have a key or a clue how to get inside, but I saw two huge planters flanking the door. I reached for one. It looked heavy, but I was capable of throwing it. Thank goodness I had carried Bella's forty-pound body all over the place. I lifted that planter off the ground so fast and without a sweat, but Justus caught my arm.

He took the planter out of my hand and placed it back down. “No sense in you going to jail for breaking and entering. Let's call 911.”

“You call. I'm going in.” I leaned down to grab the planter again.

“Wait . . .” He walked toward the door, jiggled the knob, and opened it. “This is how most robbers get in.”

I watched him in disbelief. “I thought you didn't look like the kind of person who always walked the straight and narrow.”

“I haven't always been saved.” He grinned. “Another thing we have in common.”

“What about 911?” I asked.

“I got it. Go.”

Without hesitation, I tiptoed inside.

No alarms went off when I walked inside, which meant for me that either Devon left the alarm off with hopes that Ava would return, or that Ava had already returned but forgot to turn the alarm back on. If the latter, I wondered why she forgot¸ especially since she acted like a bodyguard on adrenaline in my home. I had a sinking feeling that the correct answer wasn't a good one.

As I walked through the foyer, I listened for more screaming. The only sound I heard came from upstairs. It was a moaning that gave me more shivers. I hadn't heard that sound since Granny died.

Something caught my shoulder from behind. I jumped, then panted.

“It's me,” Justus whispered.

I spun around and punched his right shoulder. “Don't scare me like that.”

I winced. It was solid muscle. I wrang my hands.

He took my throbbing hands in his. “Careful. You may hurt yourself.”

“Whatever.” I slid my hand away from his. “What did the police say? Are they on their way? And you're supposed to stay outside.”

“Yes, I called the police, but I'm not letting you go up there alone. Actually, I think we both should go back outside and wait for them.”

Boom.
Something fell upstairs.

I looked above me, then back to Justus. “Stay. I mean it.”

Then I tiptoed toward the staircase and looked around. On the inside, the McMansion was pretty and quiet like a snow day, even in the dark. A white baby grand piano sat in the grand room, which led to a white rose-covered sitting room. I wondered if Taylor and Lil' D ever played in there. Probably not. Ava was the kind of person who lived and died by rules and room restrictions. The children more than likely had their own playroom hidden in a wall around here somewhere. There wasn't even a scent of crayons and burnt cookies in the air.

I saw a picture of Bella on a table in the living room that made me feel like a horrible aunt. The noises became clearer now, and I followed it up the staircase until I reached the end of the hall. I felt for my cell phone stun gun in my back pocket. It wasn't my real phone, but a decoy Taser and flashlight. It was girly pink, too. If I only remembered one thing from my ten years in Girl Scouts, it was to always be prepared. I definitely was tonight. This baby could put out 900,000 volts.

Justus pointed toward the last door on the left.

I stopped. “What are you doing up here?” I grunted through my teeth.

“Shhh . . .” He pointed at a gold-plated nameplate on the door. It read, T
HE
B
ISHOP'S
S
TUDY
. I looked at Justus. This was where the noise came from. I felt my lips tighten. I knew Devon was behind all this drama. I didn't want to go in there. I didn't want to be right for the first time in my life.

Justus looked at me and mouthed,
Ready?

My heart raced. I could hear it pounding in my ears. I stepped back. I clutched Justus's hand. I was too scared to answer. I stood there frozen. What was wrong with me? I wasn't afraid of anything, so why was I scared now?

Justus twirled me around until I was behind him. “Stay back here. I'll knock.”

I nodded, but totally forgot his request when I heard Ava scream, “Devon!”

I pushed Justus out of the way, swung the door open, and saw nothing but Devon's plaques hanging on the wall. It was dark, except for a dim light around the corner. I stepped around and peaked.

“Devon,” Ava wailed some more. Her voice came from the other side of the wall. “Rachel?”

“No, Ava, it's me,” I yelled.

My heart fell into my tennis shoes. It beat on my toes. I stepped forward and then back. My toes tingled now. My head throbbed so loud I could feel my heart beating now.

Justus grabbed me. “Stay behind me for real this time.”

I nodded. I couldn't speak; I felt helpless. Out of all the dangerous situations I had involved myself in, I couldn't pull my wits together to do what I could usually do in my sleep. I wasn't afraid of what would happen to me. I was afraid of what I might see had happened to Ava. I was more afraid of what I could do to Devon, if it was as bad as I thought.

“Angel?” she asked between sobs. “Don't come in here.”

“It's too late.” I clutched Justus's shirt, then walked around the corner where she was.

I peeked, then gasped. I wasn't ready for what I saw. Devon lay on the floor in front of his desk. Ava knelt beside him, praying and crying. Dark, thick blood oozed from his side, past her hands, knees, and through the once-white carpet. It was too much blood for me. I became nauseous and light-headed. I stumbled back. Justus caught me.

“Is he dead?”

“Not sure, but it doesn't look good,” Justus said.

“I'm going to have to get a closer look.”

He caught my hand. “Angel, trust me. You don't need to see this.”

The last time I had seen Bella's father alive flashed through my mind. I jolted and dropped Justus's hand.

“Angel, what's wrong?”

“Nothing.” I stepped forward. “Justus, don't get it twisted. I've seen worse and he needs medical attention now.”

“Then I'll do it.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm trained to.”

My brows puckered. “To do what?”

“I was a Navy Hospital Corpsman for the Marine Corps.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Nope.”

“Well, then check to see if he's bleeding. If he is, then he's still alive.”

“I know.” Justus rolled his eyes. “Just stay back there.”

He walked toward Ava.

“I'm calling 911 back. They should be here by now.” Justus knelt over Devon's body. “There's a lot of blood, but
he's
not bleeding. I think he's gone.”

I lowered my head. This couldn't be happening again.

Justus whispered the Twenty-third Psalm. My chest tightened more then and my throat burned. He recited that psalm during devotional service on days when I felt most broken.

Once I could control my tears, I asked, “How long has it been since you called 911?”

He checked his watch. “Maybe seven minutes.”

“They should be here any minute now, then. Call them again and tell them there's a possible death at the residence.”

I didn't like saying those words. I didn't like the implication for Ava once Justus made that call. I couldn't believe that she would come back here to kill Devon. Ava didn't have a mean bone in her body. Our mother's evil streak resided in me and Whitney.

I stepped closer toward Ava; then I hopped back like I just saw a big Okefenokee Swamp rat.

A knife rested near her right foot. It was an eight-inch blade Wüsthof cook's knife, to be exact. I knew the knife well, because seven years ago I found myself in the middle of a Southern Living Home Décor bidding war with my bunco buddies over that last available must-have knife. It was my wedding gift to Ava. Now I wished I hadn't shelled out $150 for the thing, and instead had bought a cheaper one that didn't cut so clean and sharp.

I took a hard look at Devon, Ava, the room, and became nauseated. “What's wrong with this picture?” I mumbled. Something in here didn't seem right.

Ava looked up at me, her eyes now smothered in black goop. “Where are my children?”

“They're fine,” I said. “They're sleeping, just as you left them.”

Justus added, “Whitney's caring for them.”

She looked at Justus. “And who are you?”

“I'm Ava's friend, the one who picked her up from Grady Memorial the other night,” he said.

“He's also my pastor.”

“Friend and pastor who likes to drive you around Atlanta at all times of night?” Ava asked, although it seemed more like judgment than a question.

I sighed. “Yes, he didn't want me driving here by myself. I had to find out why you ran off from my house like you did.”

“How thoughtful . . .” She sniffled. Her eyes looked more troubled than before. She kissed Devon's head, then caressed it. “Now, could you please leave us? I need to say good-bye to my husband.”

“Honey, I'm not going to leave you. I'm not. Not like this. EMS and DeKalb County Police should be here any moment now. You don't need to be here in this position when they arrive. You need to move.”

“I'm not going anywhere. This is my position . . .” She sobbed and rocked back and forth again. “Get out!”

I shuddered from her shout. “No, we need to see if Devon's okay. We want to help him.”

Ava shook her head. Her eyes were closed now. She clutched Devon's white bishop's collar and cried. “It's too late. He's dead. He's dead, Angel. You can't help him now. Leave.”

Her words ran cold through my body, but my mind was on fire. Questions filled it. The curious cat in me couldn't contain myself, but I had enough common sense to ask those questions later. I had to help my sister right now.

“Then let me help you.”

We heard something out in the hallway.

She looked at me, then at the door. “You're too late for that, too.”

Justus turned around and gasped. From the heavy shadow cast on the wall in front of me, I could tell we were not alone anymore. It had to be EMS.

“We're in here. Please hurry. My brother-in-law is seriously wounded.” I straightened my clothes and walked closer to Ava. “Honey, you need to let him go so EMS can help.”

“Don't move,” a man said from behind me.

His voice was heavier than the lead in my feet. I heard the familiar metal click of a Glock backing up his demand for us to stay still. His high-pitched squeak and nervous short breaths took me off guard. He didn't sound like emergency services or the DeKalb County Police responding officers for that matter, though I could be wrong. So I studied a framed photo of Devon on the wall in front of us until I could get a better view of our trigger-happy friend. He was a large, familiar dark blob with eyes, who definitely was not DeKalb County PD. I tsked. He was one of Devon's bodyguards, Terry Mapp, as a matter of fact. I sighed once the full realization of him came into view. If he could shoot a gun, he'd shoot himself by accident. I'd met this guy before. I had hauled his sister Betty to jail for bail jumping a shoplifting charge.