Just Evil (40 page)

Just then, the door opened and Gloria stepped inside the
room carrying a small suitcase, which she set down by the door without coming
completely into the room. Instead of saying anything to Kit, as if she hadn’t
even noticed her, Gloria motioned for Jake to follow her outside. “I need to
talk to you out in the hallway.” Only then did she ask, “Did Kit have a good
night?”

Upbeat now, Quinn replied, “She did. The bleeding’s stopped.
But she needs to sleep, get as much rest as possible, and let her body
recover.” Quinn noticed Gloria seemed upset, distracted even, and hadn’t yet
spoken to Kit herself. Believing that Gloria’s behavior meant she’d brought bad
news about Pepper, Quinn attempted to divert Kit’s attention with a steady
stream of chatter about something inane, until she realized Kit had drifted
back to sleep.

Jake and Baylee followed Gloria out into the corridor. As
soon as the door closed behind them, Gloria blurted out, “I stopped by Kit’s
house this morning to pick up a few things I thought she might need, but when I
went inside, the house had been turned upside down. Someone vandalized Kit’s
house, tore through it like a cyclone. It’s a mess. It’ll need to be put back
in order before she comes home from the hospital. She can’t walk into her house
in that shape.”

Baylee exchanged looks with Jake. “Just like at Alana’s.”

“They moved to my office, and now Kit’s. Baylee, they’re
looking for something they think Alana hid. Got any ideas?”

“Not a clue.”

“What about you, Gloria, got any ideas what they might be
looking for?” As soon as he got the words out, Jake noted she’d gotten that
befuddled look on her face she so often used when she was either nervous or was
reluctant to own up to something. It was the same look she’d used when he’d
quizzed her about Kit’s abuse that day in his office.

Without looking at him directly, without answering, Gloria
simply changed the subject. “They wouldn’t let me bring Morty in, so I had to
leave him in the car.” She turned to go back into the room. “I need to check on
Pepper. Kit will want to know how he is, don’t you think?” Without further
comment, she calmly walked back into Kit’s room, leaving him and Baylee standing
in the corridor wondering whether Gloria’s confusion could be attributed to the
early stages of Alzheimer’s or had been rehearsed.

They were all correct about Kit. When she woke up a couple
of hours later, the first question out of her mouth was about Pepper. The vet
had called to let Jake know the dog’s vital signs were holding steady. He’d
suffered no ill effects from the anesthesia and was being fed intravenously. If
the bleeding didn’t reoccur over the next twenty-four hours, he’d recover. He
wasn’t completely out of the woods yet, but his condition was far better than
anyone expected.

Knowing her dog was on the mend made Kit feel better, even
though her head hurt like she had her own personal jackhammer pounding away
inside. And with her right shoulder in a sling every little movement was a
struggle. But if Collin had been in the car that ran her and Pepper off the
road, she wanted him to pay, which meant she had to do something about it even
in her weakened state. She’d volunteered to sketch what the driver of the car
had looked like. So with Gloria holding the paper and Baylee guiding her every
motion, Kit began to sketch with her good left hand.

While Kit drew, Jake headed downstairs to meet Dylan for
breakfast in the hospital cafeteria. Quinn walked out with him, got on the
elevator with him. “I’m sorry I blew up, but it wasn’t really at you. I don’t
like to think that Kit’s in this mess because Alana knocked her around when she
was a kid. Kit’s like family, my sister. I don’t expect you to understand, but
I never knew my real father; I’m not close to my mother, and certainly not
close to my stepfather. I won’t go into the details, but I do agree with Baylee
that Kit had it far worse than either one of us. Alana was just…she was crazy,
Jake. I think she might have been a sociopath, not right in the head. After
listening to Kit in group, I gave Alana’s particulars to a psychiatrist friend
of mine, got him to do a behavioral profile. He agreed with my amateur
diagnosis. She was abusive, both verbally and physically. She locked Kit up,
often. Treated her badly, and never seemed to show any remorse or guilt about
any of it. Throw in the fact that she was often erratic, unpredictable, and
narcissistic, and you have a bona fide sociopath. Whatever it takes to get this
St. John off Kit’s back, I’ll say and do. Just tell me what you want to know,
how I can help, and I’ll not only cooperate every step of the way, but I
promise not to fight your efforts.”

When the elevator doors dinged at the first floor, Quinn
looked straight into Jake’s eyes and said, “And if you can get that son of a
bitch Collin Boyd to hang for hurting her, I’ll be indebted to you for life.”

Over runny eggs and stale coffee, Jake brought Dylan up to
speed about what Kit had told them earlier.

After listening, Dylan had one question. “So this Collin
isn’t a former boyfriend?”

“Remember when we sold our first major law firm here locally?
Boyd Boyd Geller & Gatz? We worked on them for months before we finally got
them to sign on the dotted line. When the deal was done, they asked us out to
their compound in Malibu called The Enclave to that decadent party known as the
Boyd Bash, over Memorial weekend. We went, we drank, we made nice. Remember how
impressed Claire was, surrounded by dozens of Hollywood celebrities?”

“Well, I’m glad you brought that up right about now, Jake. I
can see how relevant that is to the topic at hand.”

Ignoring the sarcasm, he told Dylan everything he knew about
Collin, including the fixation he had for Kit, his hot temper, and how volatile
he could be when he drank. Jake went over the ugly scene at Kit’s house. “Now
you’ve got Alana dead, Jessica, and Eva Geller Gatz dead. You want to tell me
there isn’t something that connects all of it? Half the founding partners of
that law firm are gone, out of the picture for whatever reason.”

Dylan suddenly understood. “Holy shit, the family has money,
power, and more political influence in this state than you or I could possibly
imagine. We have to be careful how we tread here, Jake. Are you sure you know
this woman well enough to put everything on the line for her like this? And
don’t go biting my head off. I’m just asking a simple question, trying to look
out for you.”

“I love her, Dylan.” Why did he have no reservations about
telling Dylan but had such a hard time saying those three words to Kit?

But hearing Jake use those three words, words he hadn’t even
used about Claire, stopped Dylan flat. How was he supposed to argue with love?
“Well, hell. When did this happen? You don’t think you could slow this thing
down a little, take a step or two back just long enough to think it through?”

He took another long look at Jake. A million questions
formed in his head but looking at Jake’s face, he had his answer. “Of course
you can’t. But there’s more at stake here. If you go after him for what he did
to Kit, you better be prepared. You don’t take on a family like the Boyds
without a serious battle plan. You can’t fight these people conventionally;
they’re too powerful. You have to hit them where they hurt. I just hope you
know what you’re doing.”

“What would you have me do, sit back and wait until he kills
Kit the next time?”

“Of course not, but there’s something else going on here
other than Collin getting pissed off at Kit, isn’t there? Like who’s killing
the partners off one by one and why? And what does all of it have to do with
Kit’s mother? And what the hell are they looking for?”

“Can we trust this guy where you dropped off the safe we
found?”

“He’s working on it now, and yeah, we can trust him. When he
pops it open he’ll call. And don’t look at me like that.”

He glanced at his watch. “The man’s only had it for about
thirty minutes. I know you’re in a hurry, but stuff like this just takes time.”

“How would you know?”

“I read thrillers, mystery novels, watch my fair share of
those forensic shows. It always works itself out with a little patience.”

At that moment, his cell went off. Grinning, he moved his
eyebrows up and down. “Burke here. Okay. What’d you find? That’s it? You’re
kidding. Okay. I’ll be there in thirty to pick it up.”

When he hung up, Jake waited. Patience was not a virtue at
the moment. “Well?”

“He got the safe open. There was $200,000 in hundred dollar
bills, a .357 Magnum, a passport in the name of Alana Chambers, and Kit’s birth
certificate.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Jake thought for a moment. “Why would these guys be
interested in Kit’s birth certificate or a lousy two hundred grand? It has to
be the gun they want.”

“If, and I emphasize if, the safe is what they’re looking
for at all. Looking for a gun doesn’t make much sense, unless maybe it was used
in a crime of some sort. What do we do now?”

“We call the cops and let them know Collin’s mixed up in
this whole thing. When you pick up the safe, don’t let it out of your sight.
And Dylan, call Reese, tell him I need Jordan Donovan to drop whatever he’s
working on.”

With only one good hand, it took Kit twice as long to do the
sketch as it normally would have. But when she’d finished and Baylee held it up
so that Jake and Dylan could take a look, they both did a double take and
blurted out in unison, “Gerald Auslo.”

“You know this guy?” Baylee asked.

“One of the guys who ransacked my offices yesterday morning
caught on the surveillance video. There’s already a warrant out for him, but it
looks like we might have to bump up the charges to attempted murder.” 

“Now wait a minute, why in the world would this guy be
driving the car that hit Kit and be hanging out with Collin Boyd in the same
car?”

“Good questions, and ones I intend to ask the cops.” He took
out his cell phone. “But right now, I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave Kit
alone. Even with a half dozen nurses around, I don’t want her left by herself
for any reason.” 

When he noticed Kit had drifted off to sleep again, he
turned to Baylee and offered, “If you need to take off, go home to be with
Sarah, I’ll be here.”

“If it’ll help, I can take a shift,” Dylan offered.

Baylee smiled. “It makes more sense to take shifts. Go home,
Jake, try to get some sleep, grab a hot shower, a change of clothes. I’ll stay
here till you get back. That way, she won’t be left alone.”

She turned to Dylan. “And we may take you up on that offer
later, thanks.”

As Jake stroked Kit’s hand, he hesitated. “I don’t like the
idea of leaving her.”

“You aren’t. She’ll sleep while you’re gone; she won’t even
know you aren’t here.” Watching him hesitate, Baylee added, “I’m not going
anywhere, Jake. Tanya has Sarah.”

“Okay. But call me the minute she wakes up. I want to be
here when the cops come.”

A half a mile or so down the same stretch of beach where
earlier that morning Connor had stumbled upon his father’s body, the three Boyd
brothers sat on the deck of a luxuriously furnished beach house, once again
knocking back Johnny Walker Blue.

Shaken by the events of the morning, the brothers drank shot
after shot. They’d buried their mother only days earlier. Now their father was
dead—dead from a bullet wound to the head just like their mother, just like
their aunt. But at the realization that someone was exterminating their family
one by one, all three adult men were scared shitless, feeling like cornered
prey, ready to lash out at the first thing that moved.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Cade raged.

“Someone has to know,” Connor suggested. “It’s the only
thing that makes sense.”

“I’m telling you it has to be Kit. She’s at the bottom of
it.”

Patience running thin, Connor shook his head. “And how
exactly does that work, Collin? These murders were carried out by a
professional, had to be, too neat, too clean. Kit might have offed Alana, but
I’d venture the rest of it has nothing to do with her. But by God, whoever’s
targeting this family is in for a fight. I’ll be damned if I just sit back and
wait until some sleazebag comes after us one by one and destroys everything
we’ve worked hard for.”

Entrenched in his theory, Collin refused to give up. “Kit’s
the most likely, the one with a longtime grudge. There’s been a war going on
with us since she was twelve.”

Cade scoffed at that. “Bullshit. Her war is with you, little
brother, not with us. Everything was fine with our little surrogate sister
until the day you cornered her in the cabana house and tried to rip off her
clothes. She ran screaming from you then and hasn’t wanted to have anything to
do with your charming self ever since.”

“Yeah well, she had me arrested didn’t she? Just like Quinn
had you arrested four years ago for assault. Women. If you ask, me they’re good
for one thing only.”

“Oh really? So when did you close the deal with Kit, little
brother? When did this happen and I missed it?”

Collin rose up from his chair with clenched fists, as
always, ready to fight, and shouted, “You son of a bitch, come on; I can whip
your ass any day of the week.”

Cade stood up too, as if ready to do battle. “Anytime you
say the word, baby brother. And that thing with Quinn, that was simply to let
her know who was in charge of the relationship. The little tease needed someone
to set her straight. From the start Quinn was too damned independent, too
unstable; look at her background, look what she came from: half-Indian scum,
half music dirt. Nothing came of it anyway. And I’m not still hung up on Quinn
like you are Kit. Once dad persuaded her to drop the charges, I at least moved
on.”