Just Evil (12 page)

He pointed at her and screamed, “Don’t you dare call me a
fucking cab, you understand?” Collin leaned over in the direction of the two of
them and lowered his voice, “But I am drunk, that much is true. Goddamn right
I’m drunk. I find out my mother’s dead; I start drinking. What’s wrong with
that? At least I took my mother’s death with some emotion. And we know my
mother didn’t have a suicidal bone in her body. How about you, Kit-Kat? What emotion
did you show? The police think you did it, you know. You’re a person of
interest. That’s what the papers said this morning. They think you killed the
wicked witch. Isn’t that what we used to call her, Kit-Kat? The wicked witch is
dead.”

He started laughing so hard at his own joke he almost
stumbled down the steps. “Now they’re both dead.” He weaved over to one side
before telling Kit, “I want to come in. I won’t disturb the neighbors, if you
let me come inside. Ask me to come inside your house, Kit-Kat.”

But Kit shook her head. “No, Collin. I have to get to work.
And there’s still a restraining order against you.”

With the bottle, he pointed to Jake accusingly. “Does he get
to come in? He gets to come in and I don’t, is that it?” Taking that for granted,
that fact only fueled his anger.

Jake spoke up, “We’ll all stay outside until you leave.”

“Like hell we will. I’m stayin’ right here until Kit-Kat
asks me to come in. You let this son of a bitch inside your house, inside your
panties, but not me? Is that it? You spend the night with him but not me. I was
never good enough for you, but this guy is? For chrissakes, Kit-Kat, he killed
his goddamned wife.”

Calmly, Kit said, “You’re embarrassing yourself.”

“Embarrassing myself? I’m not the one wearing someone else’s
clothes for chrissakes. I’m wearing my own clothes. You aren’t.” Proud that
he’d pointed that out, aggression swam in the liquid pools of his eyes as he
concluded, “I can pretty much guess what happened to your fucking clothes.”

Collin swayed before heading further up the steep set of
steps toward Kit’s front door. He was having a hard time keeping his balance
when he turned, as if used to having his orders obeyed, pointed a finger at
Jake, and demanded, “I want you to leave.” To Kit, he said, “And you, I want
you to invite me inside the fucking house.”

Matter-of-factly, Jake said, “We don’t always get what we
want.” Rubbing his chin, he turned to Kit, half-joking, barely above a whisper
and pointed out, “This might be a good time to mention that I haven’t been in a
fight since junior high.”

“Don’t shatter my illusion that you’re my hero. You’re
bigger than he is; you’re sober, and frankly if you can’t take him in the state
he’s in, then I’m going to be sorely disappointed. But whatever, I’m not letting
him inside my house even if I have to kick his ass myself.”

Turning serious, she added, “Two years ago I made the
mistake of letting him in because he said he just wanted to talk and he
practically…well…he got very…physical. I got away from him, called the police, and
got a restraining order.”

In a loud agitated voice, Collin ordered, “Stop that
whispering. I want to come inside the goddamn house. Is that too much to ask?
Is this any way to treat an old friend you’ve known since birth?”

Jake looked at Collin, tried reason. “You’re upset about
your mother. No one’s taking that away from you. But you can’t show up here
drunk and take your frustration out on Kit. She’s already told you she wants
you to leave.”

The expression in his eyes turned violent. “Go fuck yourself,
Boston. Or is my little Kit-Kat doing that?”

Jake took a step closer. “You don’t talk about her like
that.”

“Don’t mess with me…” Collin started down the steps toward
Jake.

It all happened lightning fast.

The moment Collin reached the bottom step, he grabbed for
Kit’s arm. Jake reacted on instinct, spinning Collin around to face him. When
Collin threw a punch to Jake’s head, Jake dodged, pivoted, and threw a solid
left jab that connected with Collin’s nose.

Blood oozed down Collin’s face as he staggered back.
Regaining his balance, he realized his nose was broken. Stumbling, he made his
way to his car in defeat. But before crawling behind the wheel, Collin turned
back to both of them and yelled, “You’ll regret this, you son-of-a-bitch. You
both will. Nobody messes with a Boyd.”

When he’d driven away, Kit grinned at Jake. “Wow, my hero.
How’s your hand?” With a twinkle of mischief sparkling in her eyes, she
cracked, “Do you think he’ll sue?”

Jake shook his left hand, flexed his fingers back and forth.
“Probably.”

Reaching out, she took the hand and inspected it. “You
didn’t break anything did you?”

“No, but maybe next time you’ll take me up on the offer and
go sailing. We could have been halfway to Catalina by now.”

“How long has Collin had this thing for Kit?”

Gloria’s head snapped up. She was a ten-year younger version
of Alana with short wispy platinum blonde hair, stunning green eyes and a tall,
svelte figure. She sat more erect on the sofa in Jake’s office as she sipped a
cup of herbal tea. “What do you mean? Collin knows better than to come around
Kit after what happened last time.”

“Really? I don’t think he got the message.” Jake paced back
and forth in front of the bank of windows in his office, remembering the look of
longing in Collin’s eyes. It made him edgy, and a tad jealous. 

“He showed up this morning drunk, maybe high, and left with
a broken nose.” He turned to stare at the woman on the sofa he’d thought of
like a second mother. “I need more information, Gloria. Why am I getting this
feeling you’re holding back? If I’m going to help Kit, you need to be straight
with me. I didn’t feel comfortable asking her a bunch of probing questions up
front what with the police giving her a hard time. So I didn’t push it. But,
now I’m asking you. Why did Kit consider The Enclave a second home when she was
a kid?”

“She said that?”

A question for a question. Interesting. “It was because of
the abuse, wasn’t it?”

“You remember don’t you, how Morty and I lived in Maine
before we moved to L.A.?”

He took a deep breath for patience. What that had to do with
anything at this point he wasn’t sure, but as calmly as he could, he replied,
“Yeah, Gloria, I remember.”

 “We didn’t get to L.A. very often to see Kit back then
because I lived three thousand miles away. Don’t you see I wasn’t here when she
needed me the most? It’s true, as a child Kit spent a lot of time with the
Boyds’ whenever Alana and Jessica disappeared for weeks at a time to fly off to
some exotic location. Those two women were forever traipsing off some place,
taking a vacation to some resort or spa. Whenever they traveled, they’d leave
Jessica’s three sons and Kit in the care of Jessica’s nanny, Maya. By the time
Kit turned three, she’d stayed with Maya so often that Kit took to calling the
nanny Mommy Maya. That used to just break my heart to hear her say that over
the phone and she’d…she’d sound so sad.” Her eyes filled with tears and with
some trepidation she quietly added, “Not that Alana would have let me see her.
She thought I was a bad influence, you see, kept telling me and anyone that
would listen that I was crazy. She didn’t want me around Kit.”

Jake handed her a box of Kleenex, waited for her to pull
herself together enough to continue.

Dabbing at her eyes, in a broken voice, she went on, “Kit’s
visits to the Boyds’ were frequent, especially in the summertime, when she’d
get dropped off for a stay that ranged anywhere from overnight to several
weeks. When Kit got to be about six, I started pestering Alana to let her come
and spend her summers with me. Alana used every excuse in the book not to let
that child come visit me, though, even telling me at one point that Kit was
just too much of a handful, and that the bed and breakfast I managed at the
time might suffer because the guests wouldn’t want to put up with all the noise
a child makes. But I knew that Kit wouldn’t have been a bother. I wanted so
much to see her. But Alana wouldn’t allow it. I think maybe she thought I might
just keep her, not send her back. But whatever the reason, Alana wouldn’t let
Kit visit.

“After a while, I got the idea that maybe we’d move,
relocate, I’d get a job out here, Morty could sell his law practice. I used to
dream about picking up and moving to L.A. so I’d be closer to Kit. I started to…to
bug Morty about it. But his practice was thriving back then and the idea of
moving three thousand miles away just didn’t work for him. Then at twelve,
after…after Kit…turned twelve…Morty finally; he finally relented, he saw how
serious I was about spending more time with Kit. By that time I’d bought the B
& B I had managed.

“After Kit...after Kit turned twelve, we sold it, sold the
law practice too, and relocated here to L.A.” Gloria sniffed into the Kleenex
Jake had given her. “We met you a couple of months later. You were right out of
college then and Morty encouraged you to start your own company, develop your
software. After that...Alana not only let Kit spend the summers with us, but
I’d take care of Kit while Alana was off to Europe or wherever.

“Once Morty and I made the move to L.A., Kit was no longer
forced to stay with the Boyds. Then later of course Kit started working at the
law firm, in the file room, just for something to do, to have a little spending
money.” Gloria stopped talking and stared off into space. “It’s true when Kit
was small she spent too much time at the Boyds’, it wasn’t her home. Most of
the time, she had to feel like an outsider there. But there was one saving
grace—at least she wasn’t with Alana.”

That inference was clear enough. But Jake wanted to hear
Gloria say it, so he pushed harder. “Exactly what issues did Kit have with her
mother, Gloria?”

“Why would you ask that?”

Jake’s instincts told him Gloria was volleying back and
forth with him for some reason. It was rare for her not to be straight with him
about anything.

What was she so nervous about? “It’s obvious, isn’t it? Her
relationship with Alana is at the very core of why St. John suspects her. He
sees a daughter who doesn’t get along with her mother, doesn’t show enough
emotion to suit him, and she’s got a built-in motive. Why, Gloria? Tell me
straight.”

Gloria sat there with a pained look on her face, silent as
the dead. She searched every fiber in the carpet as if looking for the secret
to life. But she never looked at him. 

Patience gone, he blew out a breath. “The cops are going to
use the abuse as motive, Gloria.”

“Oh…God, no.”

“Gloria, Kit’s in serious trouble. The police are pursuing
her as their main suspect and unless we can convince them otherwise, she’s in
danger of being arrested. When the media finds out about the abuse, they’ll
come after her as well. I need you to be up front with me, tell me anything you
can to help Kit out of this mess.”

“But she didn’t kill Alana.”

“I know that and you know that, but Max St. John doesn’t
give a damn about what we know, only what we can prove.”

Later, when Gloria finally left Jake’s office and headed for
her car, she was angry. And she rarely got this upset. Where Kit was concerned,
however, she had a short fuse. As soon as she got to her car, she pulled her
cell phone from her purse and dialed a number in Malibu.

When he answered his private line, his voice sounded gruff.
“Sumner here.”

“It’s good to know you haven’t changed your private number
after all these years.”

“Who is this?”

“Gloria Gandis.”

“It’s nice of you to call and express your condolences. How
have you been, Gloria?”

“This isn’t social, Sumner. I didn’t call to express
anything except outrage. Your son is at it again. He’s been to see Kit.”

“I don’t believe that. Collin knows better. I warned him to
stay away from Kit after the last time. No, Collin promised me he wouldn’t do
that.”

“Sumner, I didn’t call to argue the point. Believe it. Ask
him how he broke his nose. I’m tired of this. It can’t happen again. Do you
understand? It seems every two years or so, Collin gets it in his head that
Kit’s going to change her mind. She won’t. I don’t doubt you tried, but he’s
got to be dense as a stump to do this again. I won’t put up with it, either.
You care about Collin and I care about Kit, it’s as simple as that. If he ever
crosses the line, I’ll see to it they lock him up and throw away the key. That
much I can assure you. You aren’t the only one who knows people. Do you
understand me? You get that son of yours to somehow understand that or put him
under lock and key yourself. He’s dangerous where Kit is concerned and you know
it. I don’t want to have this conversation again.”

“I’ll take care of it.” As soon as he hung up, he dialed his
youngest son’s cell phone number. When Collin picked up the phone, he heard his
father say simply, “I want you here in ten minutes.”

Collin made it in eight. When he’d answered his phone, saw
it was his father’s number, he knew what to expect.

As he walked into his father’s study, Collin braced himself
for what he was sure would come. In a matter of seconds, he directed all of his
fury at the woman responsible. As he stood there waiting for his reprimand, all
he could think about was making Kit pay for the lecture he knew was coming.

As soon as Sumner looked up and saw the bandage across his
son’s nose, he swore. The veins in his neck popped to a bulge, his blood
pressure rose, and his anger doubled. “Goddamn it, what the fuck were you
thinking? The last time you pulled this stunt you spent the night in a holding
cell. Evidently, you have a short memory.”

“All I wanted to do was talk. I swear that’s all I wanted to
do. I was upset about Mother. Every time I go near Kit, she overreacts. Typical
female reaction if you ask me.”