Murder Deja Vu (36 page)

Her head bobbled, and she mumbled words Reece couldn’t understand but took to mean she wouldn’t. As he walked toward Carl’s office, he heard her make a dash for freedom. Ironic that given his situation, he was probably more frightened. He stood in front of the office door for a moment, inhaled a shallow breath to prevent expanding his diaphragm. He remembered the last time he stood in this spot. A different pain filled his chest then. The pain of betrayal.

He counted to three, psyching his courage, then turned the knob. The door swung open as if it were in slow motion. He’d always thought those dragged-out scenes in movies were contrived, but now he knew they weren’t. They mimicked real life. He stepped inside, closed the door behind him, and turned the latch. A sense of déjà vu came over him when he saw his brother sitting behind the desk.

Carl raised his head. For a split second, he didn’t seem to recognize Reece. Then his face drained of color. Wasting no time, he sprang to his feet and wrenched at the upper right desk drawer.

“The gun’s not there, Carl. It’s evidence, remember? You shot me with it.” In an anxious moment, Reece feared Carl may have replaced the gun with another, but he knew he hadn’t. It was Carl who’d forgotten. He rifled through the drawer, finally yanking it out and throwing it onto the floor. He gave up with a panicked grunt. “You’re supposed to be in custody. That’s what I heard.”

“As you can see, I’m not.” Carl’s suit jacket hung on the back of his chair, and perspiration bled through the underarms of his shirt in large dark spots. Reece watched the fear in Carl’s eyes. “I never realized you sweat so much. You’re out of shape. Too much booze, not enough exercise.”

“It…it was an accident, Reece. The gun went off accidentally. I didn’t mean to shoot you.”

“Sure you did.” Reece stepped closer. “Exactly like you meant to set me up for two murders. Or was that accidental too?”

Carl slid further away along the wall and cast a suspicious bead on Reece. “I suppose you’re recording this again. Are you?”

Reece shook his head. “No, you can check.” He spread his arms, then unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his bandaged chest. “See, no wire. What would be the point?” He opened his shirt wider, exposing part of the scar cutting a deep path down his side. Carl gasped. “The scar from your bullet is right next to this one. See? A prisoner almost ripped me apart with a shiv. That should be your scar, Carl. You should have been the one fucked in the ass, not me.”

“I’m sorry for what you went through. Really. I am. But I couldn’t help it. I went crazy. Karen made a fool of me. She needed to die. I couldn’t let her ruin my life with Marcy. Surely you can understand that.”

Reece laughed. “You’re kidding, right? You think I should understand that I spent fifteen years in prison so you wouldn’t mess up your life with Marcy while you taught Karen a lesson at the same time?” Carl didn’t answer. “Do you?” Reece couldn’t believe the hate-filled power of his voice.

Carl jumped back against the wall. “No, no. Of course not.” He brushed his sleeve across his top lip. “No.”

Reece reached into his pants pocket and held up the mangled recorder, turning it around in his hand. “I had it all down. Everything you said before you shot me. How you murdered Karen and the woman in North Carolina. How you made it look like I committed both murders. Unfortunately for me, no one’s going to hear it, but this little piece of twisted metal saved my life.”

Carl lunged for the desk, jerked open the middle drawer, and rummaged through it. Desperation contorted his now florid face.

“Looking for a weapon?” Reece asked. “A letter opener would do. You have one of those, don’t you? Or are you hoping to find something like this?”

When Carl turned and saw the small gun in Reece’s hand, he froze. He started to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. He finally managed, “Don’t, Reece. Don’t do it.”

Reece faced his demon, and an eerie calm settled over him. His hands stopped shaking. “Why not?” He walked around the desk and pushed Carl into his seat, wincing as the action tugged at his wound. His free hand pressed against it, and he felt the sticky residue on his fingers. Carl saw it too. “The way I figure, if I’m going back to prison, I might as well go back for a reason. No sense wasting the rest of my life without getting some satisfaction. You took my life; why shouldn’t I take yours?”

Reece thought back to his conversation with Dana about what he’d do if he came face to face with the man who framed him, and his thoughts were darker than he ever imagined. “Seems fair, don’t you think?”

Carl’s gaze riveted on Reece’s hand. “How—where did you get a gun?”

“Prison teaches a man things he wouldn’t ordinarily know. Like how to buy a gun in almost any city. Portland wasn’t hard.”

Tears filled Carl’s eyes. “You…you mean you’re going to kill me?”

“In a word, yes.”

“You could never do that.” Carl wheezed a phony laugh. “You’re not a killer. I know that.”

Reece snorted. “Ironic. A lot of people seem to think otherwise. You’ve seen to that.”

“Name it,” Carl said. “Money? You want money? I don’t have it now, but I can get it. You want to go to Canada? I’ll arrange it. I’ll take you there myself. You and your girlfriend. You don’t have to go back to prison.”

Reece had grown up with Carl. They’d been best friends, or so he thought, but he’d never seen this sniveling side. Had he been so wrapped up in his studies, in trying to be the perfect son, that he never really knew his own brother? “You’re sweating again, Carl. I’d suggest you see an endocrinologist, but what would be the point? You’re not leaving this room alive.”

“How did you get out of the hospital? You’re wanted for murder. They had a cop posted on your door.”

“A cop helped me get away.” Reece shook his head. “Man, he doesn’t like you. I think he wants me to kill you. Name’s Tobey. Dennis Tobey. You know him, don’t you? You built his dream house, but it turned into his nightmare.”

Carl’s jowly face flushed at the name. Yeah, Reece thought, he knew Dennis Tobey.

“I admit, we made a few mistakes.”

“A few mistakes? You built him a money pit.”

“I’m not as good a businessman as Dad. I tried, but I fell in over my head and had to cut corners.”

“According to Tobey, you cut more than corners. Shoddy workmanship throughout, he said. The place started falling apart.”

“I needed money,” Carl said.

“You mean you needed my inheritance.”

The two men stared at each other, Carl frozen in the moment. “I got mortgage loans on phantom houses by submitting bogus appraisals, hoping to cover them with future sales.”

“So when the bottom fell out of the market, the bank had no collateral, and the loans were total losses. Don’t you know Ponzi schemes don’t work? Sooner or later the money runs out.”

A look of resignation crossed Carl’s face. “I always thought I’d be able to come up with the money.”

“So with me in prison or dead, you’d inherit
all
of Dad’s money. And he’s dead now, isn’t he?” Reece stood over his brother, the gun firm in his hand. “Too bad you won’t collect.”

“I didn’t want to do this, Reece, but on top of needing the money, your fucking investigator started checking into everyone’s alibi for the night of Karen’s murder. Marcy hates me now. If Wright started putting things in her head she might remember how tired she was that night and how she threw up the next morning. Then she might remember that I told her the time when she didn’t know. All enough to create doubt. I had to steer him off track.”

“So you killed another innocent woman to put the blame back on me. I either get shot or go to jail. Either way, you get the money.”

“I had a noose around my neck, don’t you understand? I couldn’t go to prison. I’m not strong like you. I never was.”

“Strong?” Reece’s heart pumped so hard he thought the seeping hole in his chest would explode. The anger percolating inside turned him physically weak, and he almost dropped the gun.

Instead, he lifted his right arm, cocked the pistol, and fired.

T
he click from the empty chamber sounded like a firecracker. Carl, wilting in his chair, stared wide-eyed. Strands of his damp comb-over clung to his forehead. Reece walked calmly to the door and turned the latch. He handed the unloaded gun to Larkins, who stood outside next to Tobey.

“We got it all,” Larkins said.

Reece walked past them both, unwilling to watch the look on Carl’s face when Larkins cuffed him and took him away. Cameras flashed and newsmen peppered Reece with questions as he walked into the daylight. How did these people know what was going on? They were like vultures picking at carrion. One pointed to the flowering stain on his shirt. He ignored them all. Tobey caught up with him and steered him toward a waiting car, pushing away the reporters blocking their way. He opened the rear door. Dana sat inside. She threw her arms around him when he got in, and he put his arm around her, flinching when he did. She pulled back and noticed his shirt.

“You need a doctor,” she said. “You’re pale as a ghost.”

He nodded.

Larkins and Tobey had told her their plan before they told Reece, but she had teased him with the key and the idea of escaping. He was glad he nixed the idea.

“It’s over,” she said.

Reece fought a mood, despite Dana’s warm body next to him. How could he tell her that it would never really be over. Not when he thought of his brother. Not when he thought of the last twenty-one years.

“Your attorney and her investigator are waiting at the station,” Tobey said, getting behind the wheel. “We need to settle a few things, then you’re free to go. But first, we’ll stop at Mercy. Get that wound looked at.”

“Free to go.” Reece put his head back and closed his eyes. He had waited a long time to hear those words and know they were forever.

“You must feel a sense of justice, Reece,” Tobey said, dodging the photographers and reporters clustered around the car as he pulled into traffic.

Reece traded glances with the Portland detective in the rear view mirror. “Justice? Carl’s my brother. I get no satisfaction knowing what he’ll go through in the coming years. All I feel is an overwhelming sadness.”

“I’m sorry,” Tobey said. “I assumed everyone thinks like me. ‘Vengeance is mine,
saith
the Lord.’”

“The words were, ‘Vengeance is mine;
I
will repay
, saith the Lord.’ Vengeance is for God to repay, not man.” Reece felt Dana’s eyes on him and turned to her. “And vengeance isn’t as sweet as I thought.”

“That’s because you’re who you are,” Dana said, stroking his face.

Reece thought back to when Larkins and Tobey came into his hospital room. Larkins had come to Portland to investigate the mortgage fraud. He had no idea Reece would figure into his plan. The Portland Police were on the lookout for him, but when Jim Payton called after arresting Klugh and told them his suspicions, it became a collaboration. Federal agents had tried to find Reece in Massachusetts, but until Carl took his shot, Reece managed to stay off the radar. Even Dana couldn’t reach him, because he’d shut off his phone. Reece shook his head at the turn of events. He remembered when Larkin presented his plan. The agent had the warrant to get inside Carl’s office and he had the recording equipment. All he needed was Reece to go along.

“Sorry we had to use you,” Tobey said. “But the FBI needed the information to prosecute Carl, and if we could help your sheriff close out a couple of murders, well, all the better. You were our best bet.”

Best bet, Reece thought. He’d been the best bet of a vengeful public twenty-one years ago. The best bet for the murder of two women in North Carolina. Today he’d been the best bet to trick his brother into confessing he perpetrated a colossal mortgage fraud and that he framed Reece for murder, not once, but twice.

“Looks like Carl will be prosecuted for murder before he will for fraud,” Dana said.

Tobey craned his neck toward the back seat. “Double murder. Depends in which jurisdiction, North Carolina or Massachusetts. They can fight over him. Either way, he’ll be going away for a long, long time.”

Reece mulled over those words.
Going away for a long time
. Knowing what they meant burned a hole in his gut.

“Your investigator called it from the beginning,” Tobey said. “He felt sure forensics wouldn’t match Carl’s story. No powder burns on your shirt, for one thing, but hearing it in Carl’s words clinched it. Glad it worked out to your advantage.”

Reece looked out the window, passing places from another life he didn’t recognize anymore. “Did it? Yeah, I guess it did. Somehow it’s bittersweet.”

“At least before your father died he found out the truth,” Dana said.

Reece turned to her. “Hardly comforting for him to realize that one son wasn’t the butcher he thought, but the other son was.”

Inside the car they went silent for a few minutes until Tobey broke it. “I guess you’ll go back to your life in North Carolina, huh?”

Reece took Dana’s hand without looking at her. “Yes.”

Never since Jeraldine wangled his release from prison, had he felt truly free. People still thought he’d committed a heinous crime, no matter what the law said. He felt Dana next to him. Adjusting to freedom would be a lot easier now.