After Dark (37 page)

    "I'll tell her. Maybe she
won't worry too much." Will shook his head. "She's convinced that
whoever shot Johnny Mack is going to try again."

    "Lillie Mae worries too
much," Johnny Mack said. "But she has a point. Until we find out
who killed Kent, we're all in danger. Somebody wants your mother convicted
of a crime she didn't commit. They want me to stop nosing around and put an
end to

    the private investigation.
But I figure they know by now that even if I'm dead, they can't stop the
truth from coming out. Eventually."

    "If the person who murdered
Kent knows that I've gotten some of my memory back, that it's only a matter
of time before I remember who was hiding in the shrubbery, then I guess
that makes me a prime target, too, huh?"

    "Oh, Will." Lane sighed.
"No one outside the family knows about your sessions with Dr.
Agee."

    "Maybe not, but whoever was hiding
in the shrubbery that day knows I saw them. I'm surprised they haven't-"

    "As long as no one else knows
that your memory is returning, then you're safe," Johnny Mack said.
"But I've been considering hiring private security for all of us,
when Buddy pulls his officers off duty. I was surprised that he posted someone
at the hospital and men here at the house for the past two weeks."
"Do you think we need bodyguards?" Lane asked. Johnny Mack grabbed
her hand and entwined their fingers. "Yes, I do. And to be honest,
I've already contacted Wyatt Foster, and he's making arrangements to
send some trained professionals for around-the-clock surveillance of
the house. And I'd like someone close to Will at all times, to watch over
him." Johnny Mack glanced at Will. "Is that going to be all right
with you?"

    "You really do think I'm in
danger, don't you? You believe that whoever shot you might try to kill
me."

    "I don't want to take any chances.
We're dealing with a murderer. Someone beat Kent to death. And I'm fairly
certain that someone killed Jackie and made to look like a suicide.
If I hadn't pulled through, I would have been murder victim number
three. Someone like that won't hesitate to kill again if they feel threatened."

    "And my regaining my memory
is a major threat if the killer finds out," Will said. "Are you
sure it's safe for you and Mama to take a walk?"

    "I think we're relatively safe
in the daylight," Johnny Mack assured him. "Our killer probably
isn't going to take any chances on giving himself away and being seen,
especially not by the policeman out front. If and when he makes his
next move, he'll probably do it at night"

    "He killed Kent in broad daylight,"
Will reminded them.

    "Yeah, but there wasn't a policeman
keeping an eye on the house that day, was there?"

    Will shrugged. "You two go take
your walk. It'll be sundown in thirty minutes or so."

    "Are you sure you don't want
to go with us?" Lane smiled warmly.

    "Nah. Y’all go on."

    Will picked up the remote and
switched on the television, then waved goodbye as his parents exited
the room. Just as they walked through the door, Will noticed Johnny Mack
slip his arm around Lane's waist.

    Did he like seeing his mother
and Johnny Mack together? Was he comfortable with the thought that something
permanent might come out of their relationship? Yeah, he supposed
he was okay with it. After all, he couldn't remember ever seeing his mother
so totally alive, certainly not when she had been married to Kent. No
matter how happy she had been at times, he'd known something was fundamentally
wrong. Even as a kid he had sensed that something wasn't quite right with
his mother. Now he knew what had been missing from her life all those years.
Johnny

    Mack Cahill. He doubted his mother
could ever be truly happy without the man.

    And it wasn't as if he hated Johnny
Mack anymore. Heck, he didn't even dislike him. Whatever he had done in
the past, Johnny Mack was certainly trying his best to make amends now. You
had to admire a guy who could own up to his mistakes and make a real effort
to right the wrongs in his life.

    The telephone ringing broke
Will's concentration and released him from thoughts about his father
and the man's relationship with him and his mother. He got up, leaned
over and picked up the cordless phone from where it had been left on the
coffee table.

    "Hello," he said.

    "Oh, thank goodness you answered
the phone, Will."

    "Aunt Mary Martha?"

    "I need your help." His
aunt's voice quivered with excitement. "Please, come over to the
house. Meet me outside in the garden."

    The last time he had seen his aunt
in the hospital, after her suicide attempt, she'd been reticent and
regretful, but now she was talking hurriedly, her words practically running
together. "Where's Grandmother? Does she know you're calling me?
And don't you have a new nurse? Where is she?"

    "Mother and James are having
dinner," Mary Martha said. "I had mine on a tray in my room.
And that cow of a nurse Mother hired ate with me, and after she stuffed
herself, she fell asleep in her chair. I slipped down the back stairs and
crept by Mrs. Russell into the living room. That's where I'm calling you
from now. I must see you, Will. It's urgent."

    "What's wrong? Why do you need
to see me?"

    "It's about your father… about
Kent. He isn't dead, Will. Your father isn't dead."

    ''Now, Aunt Mary Martha, you know
he is. You went to his funeral. Don't you remember?"

    "That wasn't Kent in the casket.
It was someone who just looked like him. I tell you, Will, your father is
alive. And now the three of us can be together, the way we were supposed
to be."

    Will groaned silently. His poor
aunt's mental condition seemed to seesaw from a theatrical high to an
equally melodramatic low. Being delusional wasn't anything new for
her. Ever since he was a small child, he had felt compelled to pacify her,
something his father had encouraged him to do.

    "You stay right where you are
and I'll come over immediately," Will said.

    "No, no. You must meet me in
the garden. I don't want anyone to know you're here. And you must promise
me that you won't tell Lane that you're coming to see me. This must be our
little secret."

    "All right. I'll meet you in
the garden in a few minutes."

    "Thank you, darling. I knew my
baby boy would come to me if I needed him."

    Manipulating Mary Martha had been
easy. Planting a few seeds was all that had been necessary for them to take
root in her fertile imagination. Just hinting that Kent was still alive
and that he wanted to see Will achieved the sought-after goal. Will knew
who murdered Kent, even if that memory was temporarily suppressed. They
thought they were so smart. They believed that no one knew about the Chicago
psychiatrist. But there were ways to find out whatever a person needed
to know. Apparently Will had not regained his memory of that day-that hot,
humid afternoon when a drunken Kent had finally met his fate.

    Johnny Mack posed a threat, one
that still existed. Trying to kill him had been an irrational, emotional
decision. Acting on impulse had been stupid. Will posed the greatest
danger. If at all possible, the boy had to be dealt with tonight. Killing
Will would upset Mary Martha, but perhaps a way could be found to protect
her. After all, there were times when she believed that Kent was still
alive, so maybe she could be convinced that Will had simply been sent
away and would one day return.

    Ah, there they are now-Mary Martha
and Will. In the garden. Talking.

    You must play things by ear. Wait
and watch. And when the opportunity arises, take it. Strike quickly and
then hide the evidence.

    They're on the move, going down
the pathway that leads toward the river. Follow them. Stay a discreet
distance behind.

    Ah, that's it, Mary Martha, lead
him away from the house. Get him close enough to the river and I can drown
him.

    Dammit, they're stopping by the tool
shed! Hide and listen. Find a way to distract Mary Martha, then kill
Will.

    "I tell you, your father is
alive." Mary Martha gripped Will's hands in hers. "He always liked
to play games. Naughty little games. They were our secret. But I can tell
you about them. You're my baby." She reached up and caressed his face.
"Mine and Kent's baby."

    "Aunt Mary Martha, think about
what you're saying. Kent was your brother. I'm your nephew."

    "You're not my nephew. That's
what they want me to believe, but I know better. They told me my baby was dead,
but you re not dead, Will. You're alive!’’

    Did she honestly believe that
Will was her baby? Had she lived in that crazy, delusional world for so
long that she would never return to reality? Maybes believing Will was
the child that she had aborted fifteen years ago comforted her and allowed
her moments of sanity. If that were the case, then how would she react to
his death?

    It can't be helped.

    If only Will didn't have to die.
But he did. There was no other choice. He couldn't be allowed to remember.
The murders and attempted murders were adding up. Such a shame. But a
person did what a person had to do. In the name of love.

    ''You must help me find your father,''
Mary Martha said. "Then the three of us can be together for ever and
always."

    "I'm going to take you back
to the house," Will told her as he clasped her hand. "We'll find
Grandmother and-"

    She jerked away from him and ran toward
the side door of the old brick building, which had once been a carriage
house. ''He may be hiding in the tool shed, we used to play down here when
we were children. And later on, we came here to be alone. We'd play games
and… I'll bet he's waiting inside for us."

    Will chased Mary Martha and caught
up with her just as she reached the door. "Let me go inside and see
if Kent's here, and if he's not, then we'll go back to the house and talk to
Grandmother."

    "All right," she readily
agreed. "But I'm sure he's in there. Waiting for us."

    Now was the opportunity to strike.
The carriage j entrance was at the front of the shed. Just go in that way.
While Mary Martha waits for Will at the side door.

    Dark and dank and creepy. A ramshackle
old building that should have been demolished years ago. The only illumination
came from the two open doors. Will was making a great show of searching
for Kent. Playing games with his aunt. Pacifying her. The boy had always
been kind to Mary Martha. Such a pity he had to die.

    Being prepared always paid off.
The small iron rod picked up out of the garbage made a perfect weapon.
Creeping slowly, quietly. Don't breathe. Don't make a sound. Strike.
Now!

    Ah, that had been easy. The boy lay
on the ground, unconscious. Can't leave him here. Don't have time to
bury the body. But they'll search for him. Can't leave him uncovered.

    "Will, is he there? Is Kent in
there with you?" Mary Martha called from outside the shed. "Does
he want me to come in or are y'all coming out?"

    How to hide the body? Glancing around,
up and down and-that's it. Above. The old rowboat hanging from ancient ropes
attached to the ceiling.

    "Will, why don't you answer
me?" Mary Martha asked.

    Hurry. Can't waste time. She'll come
in here and find him. Cut the ropes. Let the hull fall on top of him and cover
his body.

    Grabbing hold of Will brought a
startling revelation. The boy wasn't dead!

    "If you don't answer me right
this minute, I'm coming in there. Do you hear me, Will?" Mary Martha
warned.

    Where was that damn iron rod? Dropped
somewhere on the floor. But where? No time to find it.

    Rags. Dirty rags in the wheelbarrow.
Hog-tie and gag the boy. Hide him away and come back later to finish the
job.

    Quickly. Do it quickly. Take those
rusty old hedge shears and cut through the ropes that hold the J wooden boat
to the ceiling. We're far enough away J from the house that no one, except
Mary Martha will hear. Once it's done, then you can deal with her.

    "Will isn't here, Lane,"
Edith said. "What made you think he came over here tonight?"

    "He left us a note saying that
he was going to see Mary Martha."

    "Why did he have to leave a
note? Where were you?"

    "Johnny Mack and I took a
walk, and when we returned to the house, we found Will's note on the kitchen
table." Lane glanced over her shoulder at

    Johnny Mack, who stood directly behind
her. "We've been home over an hour and Lillie Mae's back from her prayer
meeting. It's dark outside now and I'm worried. If he's not there with
y'all, then where is he?"

    "I have no idea, but I can assure
you that I haven't seen him tonight, but…" Deep breath.