Murder Comes by Mail (33 page)

“Had to?” The man touched his lower lip with his tongue. “You mean got to, don’t you?”

When Michael stared at him without saying anything, the man laughed again. “Oh, that’s right. You’re in the ‘keep them alive’ corner. Save a life a day and all your troubles will go away. Didn’t work out quite like that this time, did it, Michael?”

“Not quite.” Michael tried to visualize what might be beside the door behind him. He needed a weapon. Buck might not show up in time.

“Is my story boring you, Michael? You appear somewhat distracted.”

“It’s been a long day.”

“Yes, I suppose it has. And I can’t expect all my people to be as enraptured with my story as that cute little reporter. Kim something, wasn’t it?” Corley shifted on his feet a bit to lean against the wall with the gun still pressed against Aunt Lindy’s head. “She took copious notes. I think the poor child really believed I was turning myself in to her and giving her an exclusive that would make her famous. Such an enthusiastic thing. Her life energy practically exploded out of her. The young are always the most fun.”

“You’re a monster.” Michael couldn’t stop the words.

“A monster?” The man smiled, not upset in the least. “I like that. But if you are tired of my story, we can get on with it. I do need to prepare for my speech later today.”

“Dr. Colson’s speech.” Michael had to keep the man talking. “By the way, what happened to the real Dr. Colson?”

“A laboratory fire in which I, his faithful lab assistant, sadly died. My body, alas, was burned beyond recognition. The two of us looked a great deal alike. People were always asking if we were brothers, and since the scholarly Dr. Colson was so wrapped up in his research on the human brain that he never had time for the social aspects of life, it was quite easy to step into his shoes. The surviving Dr. Colson was so distraught by the fire and the loss of his valued assistant and all his research notes that he went into seclusion for a year. By the time he was up to taking patients again, I doubt you could have found anyone who remembered exactly what the good doctor looked like.”

“How long ago was that?” How much time had gone by since he left the jail?

“A bit over ten years, and the last few years, things have been quite dull, you know. It’s just too easy with all these willing candidates for my own brand of research coming into the hospital each day. Remember? The poor man whose appendectomy went bad? I never had to go hunting. Even sweet little Hope, your first victim, showed up on my doorstep, begging to be part of the greater plan. Took some of the fun away. That is, until you came to call.”

“How’s that?” Michael estimated it would take three steps to reach Corley, more than ample time for the man to pull the trigger of the gun he had against Aunt Lindy’s temple.

“The perfect crime. Although since no one has ever suspected me, I suppose all of them have been perfect. But this one brought the fun back. And now you’ve come to save your aunt just as I knew you would. It makes the ideal ending. You shoot her and then yourself. Keanes are no more on Keane Street in Keane County.”

“Nobody will ever believe I would shoot Aunt Lindy.” Michael looked down at Aunt Lindy. Her eyes were open now. Not exactly scared. More regretful.

“It will be a shock to the citizens of Hidden Springs, but the evidence will convince them. They’ll be saying you can never tell about people. By tomorrow afternoon, they’ll all be remembering odd things you did that should have alerted them to your psychotic state. And can’t you just imagine our detective Whitt’s smug face as he stamps ‘closed’ on his file?”

“And will it be over? Closed?”

“You mean will I stop? What do you think?” Again the monstrous smile. “Your episode will be closed. At least almost.”

“Almost?”

The monster’s face took on a look of fake pity. “There’s the lovely Alexandria in Washington, DC.”

The words hit Michael like a blow and he staggered back, bumping against the chair behind him and scooting it to the side. He grabbed its back to steady himself.

Corley was still talking. “You needn’t worry. No one will ever connect her death with you, because you will have already met your untimely end. I haven’t decided completely how the last scene will play out. Perhaps a stalker. Beautiful women often must deal with unwanted admirers, especially high-profile women like our Alexandria. I was fortunate to track her down on the internet. She is quite striking.”

Michael took a step toward Corley, then stopped. He tamped down on his rage so he could think. He had to find a way.

“There’s nothing you can do, Michael.” The man shook his head slightly. “Nobody has ever been able to stop me. Nobody.”

Michael shot a look at Aunt Lindy. Anger had pushed out the panic in her eyes too. He had to try something. He slid the chair in front of him and gripped the back again as though he still needed support.

“But enough of this,” Corley said. “You seem to have heard all you can bear at any rate. Let’s get things all tidied up before anybody comes to call.”

As if on cue, footsteps sounded on the porch. “Malinda, it’s me, Alex.” She knocked on the door. “Can I come in?”

The monster’s eyes lit up like a child seeing an unexpected gift under the Christmas tree. “She must have heard me calling,” he whispered.

“Run,” Michael shouted but he knew she wouldn’t.

“What’s going on, Michael?” Alex called back. The doorknob was turning.

Aunt Lindy shot a look at the door, then at Michael before her head drooped forward as though in a faint. With a yowl, Grimalkin shot out of the shadows and attacked Corley’s leg. The man kicked to dislodge the cat, but Grimalkin must have dug in her claws. The cat yowled again and hung on. Corley let out a yelp and reached down toward the cat. When he did, his other hand holding the gun shifted a bit to the side so that when Aunt Lindy jerked her head up, it butted the gun away from her.

With the chair as a shield, Michael charged Corley. The gun went off, the bullet shattering the side window next to the door. The cat jerked away from Corley and retreated into the hall as Aunt Lindy rocked to the side and crashed to the floor. Michael hurled the chair at the man.

When the chair banged into Corley’s chest, he stumbled backward against the wall. He brought the gun up. With a smile, he pointed the gun at Aunt Lindy, helpless on the floor, as Michael sprang toward him.

The gun popped again. Michael didn’t know whether he’d hit the man’s arm in time to ruin his aim or not. He didn’t look. He kept his eyes on the monster’s face as he tackled him and knocked him to the floor. Corley scrambled away, but Michael grabbed him. Corley was stronger than Michael expected. The two of them rolled first one way on the floor and then another, the gun between them. Slowly, Corley edged the gun barrel toward Michael’s chest.

Sirens sounded in the distance. Buck was coming in no holds barred, but he was still minutes away. Too far. Michael had to be the one to stop Corley. Now.

Michael slackened his hold on the man and fell away from him. Corley’s face lit up, thinking he’d won, but Michael slammed his knee into the man’s solar plexus. Corley gasped for breath. Michael didn’t give him time to recover. With a burst of energy fueled by desperation, Michael threw his weight on Corley to hold him down while he banged the man’s hand against the floor until he finally dropped the gun. Michael grabbed the gun and shoved it up under the monster’s chin.

The overhead light came on. That had to mean Alex was okay and hadn’t been hit by Corley’s shot that shattered the glass beside the door.

“If you don’t pull the trigger, you’ll wish you had.” Corley smiled up at Michael even while still panting for breath.

Michael pushed the tip of the gun even harder against the man’s skin until his head tipped back.

But it didn’t keep Corley from talking. “Go ahead. Pull the trigger. You want to. You’re not that different from me.”

“Michael.” Alex spoke behind him. “Think about what you’re doing.”

“That’s right, Michael. Think,” Corley said. “The powers that be will decide I’m mentally unstable. They’ll put me away, but in a couple of years I’ll convince them I’m totally recovered. I won’t even need medication. So there’ll be nothing to fog my memory. I can’t see you changing your name, even if it did become as uncomfortable as an outgrown skin.”

Aunt Lindy was making desperate noises, but Michael dared not look around at her. So he had no idea if she was advising him to shoot or not shoot. He wasn’t even sure if Corley wanted him to shoot or not. The man had a detached expression, as if nothing that was happening mattered at all to him.

“You’ll wish you had,” Corley said. “Isn’t that what our friend Jackson said? You’ll wish you had let him jump. And wasn’t he right?”

“I’m through playing your games.” Michael kept the gun under the man’s chin as he eased his body off him. He could still shoot if Corley made a wrong move.

“Death is the only way to end the game, Michael.”

Buck burst through the door behind them, his gun drawn.

“I hope you didn’t leave your handcuffs at home this time, Buck,” Michael said without taking his eyes off the monster in front of him.

34

While Buck handcuffed Corley and read him his rights, Michael and Alex righted Aunt Lindy’s chair and cut the nylon ropes binding her wrists to the chair posts. Michael reached for the tape over her mouth, but she held up her hand to stop him. With a determined look, she grabbed a corner of the tape and yanked it off. Tears sprang to her eyes and then she was smiling. Grimalkin came back out of the hallway to wind around her legs.

“. . . Anything you say can and will be used against you.” Buck’s voice went on in the background.

“I don’t have anything to hide,” Corley said. “I stopped by to see if Miss Keane would speak to me about her nephew rescuing a man who turned out to be a murderer when I heard sounds of a scuffle inside. By the time I was able to force open the door, he had her bound and was holding a gun to her head.” The man pointed at Michael. “He appears to be mentally unstable.”

“I don’t know who you are or what you think you’re doing, but I suggest you stop talking right now before I forget I’ve got witnesses.” Buck grabbed the man’s arm to propel him toward the door.

“Get him out of my house.” Aunt Lindy’s voice was raspy but firm.

Corley turned to smile directly at Aunt Lindy. “Floorboards creaking will take on a whole new significance now, won’t they, Malinda?”

“Move.” Buck shoved him through the door.

Michael picked up the gun he’d taken from Burton and followed them out, a wary eye on the man. He didn’t know what he expected Corley to do. He surely couldn’t shrink his wrists to jerk free of the handcuffs. But whatever happened, Michael wanted to be ready. Buck needed to be ready too.

“Lock him in your car and call for backup, Buck.”

Buck frowned over his shoulder at Michael. “I can take him in.”

“He sounds as if he doesn’t think you’re capable of securing a prisoner, Officer Garrett,” the killer said.

Michael ignored Corley. “Call for backup or I will. This is not some drunk who just needs to sober up. He kills people for fun and he’d enjoy adding you to his career total. Just think about it. He knows your name. Consider him extremely dangerous.”

“Why, Deputy Keane, I can’t imagine why you would say such things. My job is to help people. Not hurt them in any way. He must have me confused with himself, Officer Garrett.”

“You’re the one confused, buster.” Buck looked from Corley to Michael. “Who are you going to call, Mike? Lester?”

“Ah, the nice deputy who told me his biggest pleasure in life is to ensure the children get safely across the street when school starts. Did you know he knows all the names and exactly where those sweet children live?” Corley laughed. “It’s such a pleasure to talk to someone so helpful when you’re new to a place.”

Michael turned his eyes back to Corley. The man was a monster. “Put him in the car, Buck.”

“You bet.” Buck ushered the man down the steps toward his patrol car.

“If he makes the first wrong move, shoot him,” Michael said.

Corley stopped to look back at Michael. “I do believe you have a transference problem that really should be analyzed by your favorite therapist, Michael. You lacked the nerve to shoot me yourself a few moments ago, but now you’re urging your friend to do it for you.”

Michael stared straight at Corley for the first time since he’d relaxed his finger on the trigger of the gun between them. “Be a model prisoner and you won’t have anything to worry about from Officer Garrett.”

“Oh, I have no worries. None at all,” the murderer said. “You’re the one who needs to worry. The game isn’t over. I’ll be back.”

He was laughing when Buck folded him into the backseat of his cruiser.

Buck stared through the cruiser window at the man and then unhooked his radio from his belt. “Could be you’re right, Mike. I’ll call in the troops. Eagleton and all. No need Whitt getting to sleep if we can’t. Think I’ll just wait right here until they come. Him in there.” Buck nodded toward the car. “Me out here. Safer for both of us that way.”

When Buck started talking into his radio, Michael went back inside. Corley couldn’t get out of the car and there were people he needed to have in front of his eyes again.

Alex was massaging Aunt Lindy’s wrists while Grimalkin sat back as though waiting her turn.

“You’re the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen,” Michael said.

“Is he talking to me or you, Malinda?” Alex smiled at Aunt Lindy.

“I think you know the answer to that.” Aunt Lindy picked up Grimalkin and laid her cheek against the cat’s head. “Good cat,” she murmured.

Alex turned to face Michael. “Then, same old line every time I see you.” She attempted a smile that looked shaky.

“The truth never changes.” Michael kept his eyes on her face, drinking in the sight of her. “But why are you here?”

“To save your bacon as usual.” Alex’s smile looked easier now.

“And a good thing. I’m just not sure how you knew it needed saving.”

“That has a longer, somewhat stranger answer.”