Obsessed (29 page)

One glance at the clock over the wall by the bar, and Liz jumped up. Twenty minutes had passed since Michael had left. He was probably dropping off Bill right now, and it would take him at least another twenty minutes to drive back to her. There was no way she wanted him to find her moping around, wait ing for him like some lovesick teenager. She’d get into her very best bathing suit and swim some laps in the pool.

Her white satin bikini was hanging right where she’d left it, on the hook inside the cabana. Liz peeled off her clothes and slipped into it, studying her re flection in the mirror. She knew she looked sensa tional in the white bikini. She’d been working on her tan all summer. Michael’s eyes would pop right out of his head when he saw her wearing it.

Liz retrieved the champagne bucket and carried it out to a table. Then she walked to the pool, feeling better already, and dipped her toe in the water. The pool was warm, exactly the way she liked it, and she slid into the water without a ripple. The stars were bright overhead, and the palm trees waved gently in the warm night breeze. It was the perfect night for romance, and she was ready.

The water caressed her like an old friend as she glided the length of the pool. No sense working up a sweat. She was only killing time until she heard Michael’s car pull into the driveway. He’d be back. She was sure of it. He wouldn’t be able to resist the chance to repeat their last night together.

After three laps, Liz was tired. It had been a long day. She pulled herself out of the water and sat on the lip of the pool, enjoying the gentle breeze. The scent of night-blooming jasmine was a heady per fume, and she was glad her mother had taken an in terest in gardening, and planted a border around the patio. Coupled with the lovely aroma of the roses that were blooming in the garden, it was almost an aphrodisiac.

Only five minutes had passed, and Liz was bored. She hated to wait. Waiting made her nervous. She found a clean wine glass and opened the bottle of champagne she’d saved for Michael. One glass should do the trick. It would relax her, and the time would pass more quickly. Of course she knew that it was dangerous to swim when she’d been drinking, but she didn’t have to get back in the pool until she heard Michael open the gate.

The bottle was almost empty when Liz heard foot steps crunch on the gravel in the driveway. She set her glass on the nearest table, and got back into the water again. She wouldn’t admit that she’d been drinking alone. Michael wouldn’t approve of that. He was very old-fashioned in a lot of ways, and that was one reason why she’d dumped him.

Liz turned on her back in the warm water, and did a lazy backstroke. Michael might have reservations about spending the night with her, but those reser vations would be quickly erased when he saw how sexy she looked in her bikini.

As she waited for Michael to join her, Liz began to smile. Michael might get even more turned on if he found her swimming without her top. He’d get so excited, he’d probably shed his clothes and jump right in to join her.

Liz unhooked her bikini top and tossed it out of the pool. It landed on one of her mother’s hybrid tea roses, and Liz giggled. Her mother would have a coronary if she saw the bikini top draped over her prize rose bush. But her mother wasn’t here, and there was no one to object.

A smile spread across Liz’s face as she thought about Michael’s reaction. She knew she looked sexy. She had a gorgeous tan all over, thanks to her mother’s tanning bed. Why wear any suit at all?

It took only a second to slide out of her bikini bottom and toss it away. Liz gave a sexy giggle as she felt the water caress her bare skin. This was fun. No wonder everyone was always talking about skinny-dipping!

Liz treaded water for a moment, and listened. Had she imagined those footsteps on the gravel? No. There they were again, approaching the gate. Mi chael would be here any moment.

She gave a little shiver of anticipation and smiled again. She’d turned off the rest of the lights so the patio was in darkness. The only illumination came from the underwater pool lights. When Michael came around the corner and stepped onto the patio, his eyes would be drawn directly to her.

Liz debated for a second, and then she started swimming laps again. She didn’t want Michael to think she’d arranged this whole scene, just for him. It was better to let him stumble upon her by accident. She’d say she hadn’t heard him, and she’d pretend to be a little startled. Then she’d tell him that she swam like this often. That should be enough to get him to come over every night. Her parents would be gone for another ten days, and they could have a blast.

As she swam, Liz listened. Quiet footsteps crossed the patio, nearing the deep end of the pool. She turned her face away to hide a smile as she realized that Michael was planning to surprise her. When she finished her lap, at the deep end of the pool, he’d reach out for her. The thought of being in Michael’s arms again made her heart race and her breathing quicken.

Liz took her time as she approached the shallow end of the pool. She’d give Michael plenty to look at when she swam her return lap. She’d do a back stroke so he could see her breasts, and then she’d switch to a side stroke with a scissors kick. That was bound to drive him wild.

Knowing that Michael was watching made Liz feel incredibly sexy. It was almost like doing a strip tease. She arched her back, and floated for a moment, enjoying the night air as it caressed her body. Then she lifted one, perfectly tanned leg and trailed her fingers down her thigh.

When she was halfway across the pool, Liz turned to peer at the deep shadows by the diving board. She could almost make out Michael’s shape in the dark ness. She smiled and licked her lips. The night was so still, she could hear him breathing. He was turned on, she was sure of it. And by the time she reached the end of the pool, he’d be climbing the walls.

Only a few feet to go. Liz slowed, and treaded water, rising up from the pool like a modern-day Ve nus. She was almost close enough for Michael to touch her now. Almost . . . but not quite. Liz turned languidly on her back and gazed up at the twinkling stars above, floating very slowly toward the end of the pool.

There was a brief moment of suspense. And then she felt his strong hands grab her shoulders. She gave a playful little shriek, pretending fright. The neigh bors were gone on vacation and she could make as much noise as she wanted.

And then Michael’s hands pushed her down, hard. Liz sputtered and tried to protest as her head went under the water. This wasn’t fair! And it certainly wasn’t sexy! She’d been to the beauty salon this af ternoon and now her new perm was ruined!

She tried to reach up to pry his hands loose, but her fingers encountered something strange. Michael was wearing gardening gloves. Why in the world was he wearing gloves? And why wasn’t he lifting her out of the water to kiss her? If this was a play
ful game in the water, it had gone much too far!

The beginnings of fear made Liz kick out even harder. She tried to dig her fingernails into the heavy canvas gloves, but his grip was too strong to pry loose. If she didn’t do something fast, Michael was going to drown her!

Liz thrashed and struggled under the water as pre cious seconds ticked by. Her lungs were screaming for air, and she could feel her strength ebbing. Her frantic struggles became weaker and weaker, and then, finally, her muscles failed her completely.

Her consciousness began to dim and her eyes flut tered open to stare up through the water that sepa rated her from the lifegiving air. Michael’s face was a wavy, pale oval above the surface of the water, too far away to see clearly. But she could see the object he held half-submerged, only inches from her chest. It was an arrow!

Liz’s last conscious thought, before the eternal blackness closed in, was clear and concise. The po lice had made a terrible mistake. Judy Lampert hadn’t killed all those girls at Covers. Michael was the real Cupid Killer!

Five

Carla parked her car in the Covers lot, and got out with a sigh. The bank had been crowded and she’d spent over forty minutes waiting in line to do a routine transaction. She tucked the soft leather briefcase she used for banking business under her arm, and headed for the kitchen door. No sense walking all the way around to the front. It was after four, and Andy and his staff would be here, preparing the food for tonight’s show.

Two weeks had passed since Liz Applegate’s hor rible murder, and the police weren’t even close to solving the crime. Of course there were rumors, es pecially since Liz had been found with an arrow thrust into her chest. It was the same kind of arrow that had been used in the Cupid murders, the murders the police had considered solved when they’d read Judy’s confession in her suicide note.

As Carla approached the open kitchen door, she heard voices inside. Berto was there, and he sounded very upset.

“You girls are crazy! Michael didn’t have anything to do with Liz’s murder!”

“Maybe that’s true.” Tammy Burns had a very high voice, and Carla recognized it immediately. “But I think it’s very strange that Michael was there that night.”

“It’s not strange.” Berto gave an exasperated sigh. “Michael used to date her, and she invited him to her party. It’s just a coincidence, that’s all.”

“Some coincidence!” Carla winced as she recog nized Winona Evans’s voice. She was the biggest gossip at Burbank High. “How about all the other coincidences, Berto? Michael used to date Deana, and Becky, and Mary Beth, and Ingrid, and even your sister, Nita. And they’re all dead, too!”

“That’s true, but Michael didn’t kill them. Judy Lampert did. She confessed everything in her suicide note.”

“If it was a suicide.” Tammy was so excited, her voice almost squeaked. “Phil thinks Judy was in nocent. He’s sure that Michael murdered all those girls.”

“What does Phil know? He wasn’t even working here during the murders! And he doesn’t even know Michael.”

“That doesn’t matter.” Winona jumped in to de fend Phil. “It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Phil and Tammy and I are positive that Judy didn’t commit suicide. She was murdered, and Michael did it!”

Berto snorted. “No way! You guys are all wet!”

“No, we’re not. It all makes perfect sense.” Wi nona sounded very serious. “Michael admitted that Judy came to see him. And he also admitted that he was mad at her. What if Michael drove up to the lookout that night, and Judy followed him? He could have forced her to write that suicide note before he killed her.”

“Oh, sure.” Berto began to laugh. “Just how is Michael supposed to have done that?”

Tammy spoke up. “Maybe he could have held a gun to her head. That’s the way they do it in the mov ies.”

“Tammy’s right.” Winona took up the story. “Mi chael could have dictated the whole letter, and made Judy write it down. Poor Judy! I bet she was scared to death. And then Michael murdered her, and pushed her car over the cliff so it’d look like a suicide.”

“You’re not really serious, are you?” Berto sounded shocked. “Michael would never do anything like that!”

“How do you know?” Tammy was obviously in the mood for an argument. “The police thought he killed all those girls, and there had to be some reason why they locked him up in that nut house.”

Carla felt her temper rise to the surface. How dare they discuss Michael like this? She pulled open the door, and pointed her finger at Winona.

“You’ve got a big mouth, Winona! And Tammy . . . I can’t believe you! If I hear one more word of gossip about Michael, I’ll . . . I’ll see that you’re both fired!”

Winona didn’t look intimidated. “You can’t do that. You’re not the boss. Mr. Calloway is.”

“Oh, can’t I?” Carla faced her squarely. “I’m the assistant manager, and Mr. Calloway just made me responsible for the hiring and firing of personnel. Just try me, and see how long you last here!”

“Oh . . . sorry, Carla. We really didn’t mean any harm.” Tammy grabbed Winona’s hand and hauled her to the swinging door so quickly, she stumbled. “You won’t hear another word from us. I promise.”

When the door swung shut behind the two wait resses, Berto raised his eyebrows. “Were you really going to fire them?”

“I lied. I can’t fire them. Only Mr. Calloway can. But that whole thing made me so mad . . .”

“Come on, Carla.” Berto led her over to a stool by the grill. “They were just talking, you know? Ev erybody’s talking. Winona and Tammy aren’t the only ones.”

“Who’s talking? Tell me!”

“Everyone. Think of it from their point of view, Carla. Liz used to go out with Michael, and now she’s dead. They can’t blame Judy. She’s dead, too. So they started thinking that maybe she wasn’t really the Cu pid Killer, after all.”

“But Judy confessed!” Carla shook her head. “We were right there when Detective Davis read the letter. Judy couldn’t stand to live with her guilty con science, so she killed herself.”

Berto nodded. “Maybe. But maybe not. You knew Judy better than anyone. Did she seem to be the sui cidal type?”

“Well . . . no.” Carla frowned deeply “Not really.”

“That’s just it. It wasn’t in character for her to commit suicide. And when Detective Davis came by yesterday, asking all those questions about her . . .”

“Hold it!” Carla interrupted him. “I was here yes terday, and I didn’t see Detective Davis.”

“That’s because Michael took you to the printers to pick up the flyers. Detective Davis walked in, right after you left.”