Vows of Silence (16 page)

Even if everything felt wrong just now if she let herself really dwell on it.

Shaking off the troubling thoughts, she didn’t bother knocking at Melinda’s, just opened the door and stuck her head inside. “Hey! I’m here.”

When no one answered she walked straight to the living room. That Kira and Melinda stood there glaring at each other took her aback. Clearly, she’d walked into a very intense conversation.

Melinda was the first to recover. She pushed a smile into place and met Lacy in the middle of the room for a hug. “I’m glad you’re here.” She pulled back. “You okay today? You look rested.”

“I’m good.” Lacy looked from Melinda to Kira, the undeniable instinct that something was very much amiss tugging at her. “Is everything all right here?”

Melinda ushered her to the sofa, her movements almost mechanical. “I didn’t sleep very well last night, but otherwise I’m okay.”

Kira wouldn’t look at Lacy. “What about you, Kira? Did you get any sleep?”

Kira still didn’t make eye contact. “Are you going to tell her or am I?” she demanded of Melinda.

Dread surged inside Lacy. Something had happened. Oh God. What now?

“What’s going on, Melinda?”

“Kira received one of those calls last night.”

Fear abruptly replaced the mounting dread. “God, what did he say?” Though they had no idea who the creep was it was just easier to say he. In one way Lacy was relieved that she wasn’t the only one getting the calls now.

Kira faced her then, fury tightening the lines on her face. “That you were plotting to blame everything on us.”

“That’s insane!” Lacy couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.

“Is it?”

“Wait, Kira,” Melinda urged. “You know Lacy would never do anything like that.”

“Do we?” she demanded, unconvinced.

“Kira, how can you believe someone like that? Don’t you see what they’re trying to do?” Lacy urged. “The point is to tear us apart.”

“The point is murder,” she threw back at Lacy. “Cassidy is dead. According to our wacko caller, one of us is next.” She pointed to Melinda and then herself. “He said you were conspiring with Chief Summers to pin the whole thing on us. And, personally, I’m beginning to believe him. You’ve been acting weird since we arrived.”

“Kira, please,” Melinda pleaded.

“Where were you last night, Lace?”

Lacy wanted to refuse to answer the question but she knew that any attempt to hide her actions last night would be futile. Kira already knew.

“I was with Rick.”

Melinda stared at the floor a moment then said, “Kira called your house around midnight to see if your folks had made it home and to touch base with you. No one answered.”

“What did you tell him?” Kira demanded.

Lacy turned to Kira. “I didn’t tell him anything, Kira. We had sex. Several times,” she added. “We didn’t do any talking.”

“You really expect me to believe that?”

“He was my first,” Lacy admitted out loud for the first time in her entire life. “The summer before my senior year.” She looked from Melinda to Kira. “I was the only one who was still a virgin and I wanted to change that. He and I had been flirting…sort of…forever, it felt like. So I chose him.”

“I knew it,” Melinda murmured to herself, it seemed. “I knew he’d always had a thing for you, now I know why.”

Lacy wondered why Melinda was behaving as if nothing bad had happened. Unreal somehow. Delayed shock? Cumulative stress?

“That’s also why he’s been following you,” Kira added, her words bitter. “He thinks you’ll be the one to break. Do you really expect us to believe that you shared his bed last night and didn’t spill your guts?”

Fury kindled deep in Lacy’s belly. “Did you tell Brad anything the other night when you were out with him? Does Brian know you’re cavorting with your old lover?”

For one endless beat, Lacy was sure Kira would burst into tears, but she reined in the emotion. Lacy hated herself for stooping that low, but Kira had goaded her into it.

“He would have been my first,” Kira said, her voice wobbly but her expression fierce. “But Charles, the son of a bitch, beat him to the draw.”

Melinda swayed. “Why didn’t you tell me this?” Again her tone sounded strange, almost monotone.

Kira turned to her, tears rolling down her smooth cheeks despite, or maybe because of, her anger. “I didn’t want you to ever know. You were so blindly in love with him. When he found out about Brad and me, he used it to make me do what he wanted. You know how it was then. My folks would have grounded me for life if they’d found out I was seeing a white boy. They would probably have sent me away to boarding school.”

Kira was right about that. Ashland was just now beginning to overcome the legacy of racism.

Melinda laid a consoling hand against Kira’s arm. “It was my fault. I was stupid for not seeing what he was.”

Lacy moved up next to her and put an arm around her for support. “You were in love, Melinda. You couldn’t see past that.”

“He did the same to Cassidy,” Kira said quietly. “He found out about her sexual persuasion and he used it to get favors from her, as well. Brad always thought it was Cassidy putting a wedge between us. He never knew the truth.”

Dear God, Charles was an even worse monster than Lacy had believed.

Melinda turned to Lacy. “What about you, Lacy? Did he hurt you like that?”

Lacy shook her head, thankful to be able to do so. “He must have known I wouldn’t be able to keep the truth from you.”

“Of course not,” Kira said bitterly. “The perfect Lacy would never do such a thing. What makes you any better than me or Cassidy?”

Lacy’s emotions reeled, bruised all over again by the impact of her friend’s words. “Nothing. I just meant I assumed that was his reasoning, since he didn’t attempt anything like that with me.” At least not until ten years ago, but she wasn’t about to mention that morning. Not with the tension already thick enough to cut with a chainsaw.

“Seems pretty convenient that Charles never hassled you, and now that his body is found, the chief of police is suddenly your secret lover.”

She honestly thought that Lacy had tried to make them look bad in front of Rick.

“I don’t know why you’re acting this way, Kira, but I haven’t done anything to deserve the third degree. This caller is probably the person who killed Cassidy, why would you listen to anything he said?”

“The caller said you intended to blame all of this on Melinda and me. He was warning me. You have to admit it looks pretty bad for you, Lacy. Especially considering that Cassidy is dead now and she’s the one who knew the truth.”

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“What’re you saying, Kira? What really happened? What did Cassidy know that the rest of us don’t?”

Kira threw her hands up. “I’m finished here.” To Melinda she said, “I’ll see you at six in the morning.”

“Kira, wait,” Lacy urged. She didn’t want her to leave like this.

When she didn’t stop, Lacy followed her to the door. “Don’t walk away with things between us like this, Kira. You know this isn’t right.”

She looked at Lacy one last time before she walked out the door. “I know one thing, Lace. You’re going to take us all down with you and I don’t think I can forgive you for that.”

The door slammed behind her, but the words were still ringing in Lacy’s ears.

Kira didn’t trust her. Somehow she believed Lacy was to blame for all of this. It was insane.

“Come on, Lacy,” Melinda implored with something resembling real emotion. “Let’s put this behind us for a while. We can’t let any of it get to us. Cassidy would want us to stick together. We have to try.”

At least she had that part right.

Kira couldn’t recall ever being this angry. Well, except for the day she had found out what Charles had been doing to Melinda. The whole sick relationship had given her flashbacks about what he’d done to her.

Her tires squealed as she spun out of Melinda’s driveway. She needed to cool off. She had to think. Why the hell would Lacy lie so blatantly? And if she was honest with herself, she would have to say that Lacy had looked totally shocked. Maybe Cassidy had been wrong about Lacy. Maybe their psycho caller was wrong.

Kira wanted to believe Lacy. But it was hard knowing what she knew. Maybe she should just tell Lacy everything and see what she had to say for herself. But she’d promised Cassidy that she wouldn’t ever tell.

What the hell was she supposed to do?

Her cell phone rang and Kira cursed the damned thing. She was sick to death of Brian calling. If this was him she was going to tell him to go to hell…to never call her again. She should have known things would never work between them. He was just too damned possessive.

She dug the phone out of her purse and checked the screen. Blocked Call. Fear fired in her blood. What if it was the one who’d called last night?

Only one way to find out.

Kira swallowed back her trepidation and punched the button to accept the call. “Hello.”

“She denied everything, didn’t she?”

The caller.

Kira wet her lips and tried to think what she should say to this psycho.

“That’s all right, you don’t have to answer. I know she did.”

Kira looked around the neighborhood as she drove along the street. Who the hell was this freak? She’d demanded an answer to that question last night, but she hadn’t gotten anywhere.

“What do you want?” She tried a different tactic today.

“I have the proof you need to protect yourself, Kira. I wanted to give it to Cassidy but someone killed her first. Maybe I should give it to you.”

Kira was uncertain about a lot of things, but protecting herself wasn’t one of them.

“What do you want me to do?”

Chapter 15

L
acy couldn’t just sit around Melinda’s house and do nothing. She had to try to figure this thing out. There had to be a reason Kira felt the way she did.

Melinda was no help. She kept insisting that she had no idea what Kira meant. But Lacy had a feeling she knew exactly what the other two had been insinuating all along.

Every instinct warned Lacy that time was running out for all of them. She had to devise a way to prod reactions that she could ultimately control.

The only option she felt at her disposal was to approach Bent Thompson. She hadn’t seen him since the day Rick had told him to stay away from her, but he had to be out there somewhere. Watching.

The idea that he could have been the one to kill Cassidy made her shudder.

Surely he wouldn’t have been so blatant about following her, especially considering Rick had caught him, if he’d intended to murder one or all of them. That would be pretty stupid.

She couldn’t talk to Rick. He would only use anything she said or did against her.

Lacy refused to consider how real last night had felt. Part of her had been convinced that he had deep feelings for her. But then he’d turned it off this morning just as suddenly as he’d switched it on. No matter what he’d said, his actions had spoken far louder.

She was obviously a bigger fool than even she had known.

“Lacy, you need to stop worrying about the things Kira said. She was just angry. She’ll be fine by this evening. You wait and see.”

Lacy wanted to believe it would be that simple but she knew better.

“Melinda.” She sat down on the sofa next to her friend. They’d had dinner already. There was nothing left to do except obsess on what she couldn’t accomplish—finding the truth. “Don’t you see how important it is now that we determine exactly what happened to Charles? Our lives may depend on it.”

Melinda shook her head. “I wish you would stop. This is just too hard.”

Lacy hated that she made Melinda relive the past by talking about it, but the ugly past was back to haunt them. They had to face it head-on. The feeling that Melinda was either hiding something Kira had said or trying to pretend this whole mess would just go away kept digging at Lacy.

“All of us had reasons to want to kill Charles,” Lacy admitted. “But how can we be sure if one of us really did when we refuse to talk about it. Cassidy is dead. We don’t have to play by the rules she set anymore.”

“You should be ashamed, Lacy,” Melinda scolded without actually looking at her or infusing her voice with authority. “She was our friend. We trusted her. Why would we change that now?”

“Because someone killed her,” Lacy argued. “Because that same someone may be the person who killed Charles.” She wanted to add
Pam, too,
but she couldn’t do that yet.

Melinda got up and walked away from Lacy. “I’m not going to talk about Charles’s murder, Lacy. I just can’t.”

“What about the money?” she offered. “What happened to the hundred thousand that Charles withdrew that day? What if Bent Thompson did take it? What if he knows the truth and is just trying to make it look like we did it?”

Melinda spun around to face her, her expression twisted with pain that no amount of pretending could veil. “We did do it, Lacy! Don’t you remember? Why do you keep pretending we didn’t?
We!
Do you hear me? We killed him? You know that. And our actions are the reason Cassidy is dead. It’s too late to change that. Let’s get past it.”

“But we didn’t take the money!” Lacy argued still. “Someone else took it, which means someone else was involved.”

“He probably gave it to one of his whores,” Melinda lashed out. “Are you satisfied now? If I had my guess, he gave it to that tramp Pam Carter. She’s probably living it up somewhere on his money.”

Lacy had to look away. How could she keep this from Melinda? It would be all over the news by tomorrow.

“He didn’t give it to Pam Carter,” she relented.

Melinda’s head came up. “How do you know that?”

“They found Pam’s body…her remains.” She rubbed a hand over her face. God, she hated to do this. “She was murdered with the same weapon used on Charles.”

Melinda’s eyes widened in disbelief. “That’s impossible.”

The vehemence in her words surprised Lacy. She had no more idea about that than Lacy did. “It’s true,” she assured her. “They’ve already done the ballistics on the bullets they recovered from both Charles’s Mercedes and Pam’s rudimentary grave.”

Melinda wandered back to the sofa and plopped down as if she could no longer hold up her frail weight. “This is crazy. I don’t understand.”

What she didn’t know was that the worst was yet to come. “They didn’t find any money with Pam’s remains. But they did discover one other thing.”

Melinda’s eyes met hers and this time they were all too alert. “She was pregnant, Mel,” Lacy said with an ache in her chest. “I’m sorry, but there’s reason to believe it was Charles’s baby.”

Something changed in Melinda’s eyes then. She shut down and drew back into her shell like a frightened turtle.

“I wish I hadn’t had to tell you this, but it’ll probably be in the papers tomorrow. And even if they don’t release the part about the baby’s paternity, since it probably hasn’t been confirmed, you know there will be speculation.”

“I don’t want to talk about this again.” Melinda stood. “I’m going to lie down now. I’d appreciate it if you don’t disturb me.”

She left the room in that same daze of denial she’d displayed when Lacy first arrived. Lacy wanted to go after her, but she understood that her friend needed time to absorb the awful ramifications of what Lacy had just told her.

Lacy closed her eyes and rubbed at her temples. “Charles, you bastard,” she muttered, “why didn’t you just stay buried?”

Feeling too restless to retire this early herself, Lacy tried to call Kira. She didn’t mind making the first move toward reconciliation. They couldn’t let this thing fester between them. It would only make bad matters worse.

Kira had turned off her cell phone and there was no answer at her folks’ house. Annoyed, Lacy hung up. Not that she actually blamed Kira. With the way Brian called, ignoring the phone was the only way to shut him down.

She couldn’t help wondering if, when this was over, assuming it was ever over, Kira could go back to Brian and pretend Brad hadn’t touched her life again.

Lacy studiously blocked the images from last night and this morning. It would be so easy to wake up in Rick’s arms every day for the rest of her life.

But at the rate she was going she would either wake up dead or in prison.

Neither really appealed to her.

But no one wanted to cooperate in fighting the inevitable of one of those two ends.

She had no way of getting to the bottom of this mess if she couldn’t get any cooperation.

She prayed Rick would have more luck. As much as she didn’t want his investigation to ruin any of their lives, someone had to uncover the truth.

No matter the cost.

She moved to the family room and turned on the television to watch the weather situation. Maybe her parents would be able to head home by tomorrow. If only the weather would cooperate.

Rick stared at the list Brewer had compiled for him.

Right there smack in the middle of a hundred or so other names was Lawrence Oliver.

Lacy’s father.

He’d registered a .38 nearly twenty years ago.

The registration was still valid.

Rick rubbed his chin and studied the list as if he could make that one name go away, but he couldn’t.

Lacy had had access to a .38 on the day Charles was shot. Whichever .38 had killed him was undeterminable, but the fact remained that she’d had motivation and now, apparently, the right caliber of handgun to commit the crime.

If there was a ballistics match she would have some major explaining to do. But first he had to get the weapon. Since the Olivers were still out of the country, his only option was Lacy. Not good.

The idea that two different weapons had been used didn’t make sense. Maybe the poor bastard had had himself two violent confrontations that day. How could both have occurred so close together and why hadn’t he sought help after the first one if he were conscious?

Again, it didn’t add up.

But damned little about this whole thing did.

Cassidy Collins had been strangled. They were no closer to determining how or why than they were the morning they found her body.

No evidence. None. Not one speck.

Other than the two slugs recovered from Charles’s trunk, basically the same situation existed with his case. Pamela Carter’s situation was no better.

No real evidence, plenty of motivation and potential suspects, but nothing concrete.

It was as if a ghost had killed all three.

But that wasn’t the case.

Proving it, however, was another matter.

Nigel Canton’s movements appeared to be restricted to work and home. Bent Thompson couldn’t be found. He’d stayed out of sight since Rick warned him to leave Lacy alone.

Rick glanced at the clock on the wall next to his desk. Nine. He should go home. He was damned exhausted.

The idea that at this time last night he and Lacy had been in his bed drilled straight into his thoughts. He wanted desperately to touch her again. To call her right now just to hear the sound of her voice.

But she didn’t want to trust him. She was afraid to risk further contact with him. He understood the problem perfectly. She had something to hide related to Charles Ashland’s murder and she didn’t want to risk his prodding it out of her.

Too bad she didn’t know him better than that. Last night had had nothing to do with the investigation. Whether or not he could convince her of that when this was over, he couldn’t say. He’d just have to ride it out and see.

For now, he had to do what he could to protect her. According to Brewer, she and Melinda hadn’t left the house. Larson was stationed outside the Jackson home. Kira’s folks had attended church tonight, but she hadn’t left the house.

Rick rubbed at his burning eyes and decided to call it a night. Maybe he could drift off to sleep with the scent of Lacy Oliver permeating his sheets.

If he were really lucky, maybe he’d dream about making love with her the way they had last night.

As he turned off the lights in his office the phone rang. Damn. And he’d thought he would get away at a decent hour.

Considering the way things had been going in his town, he braced himself for just about anything.

“Summers.”

“Chief, this is Larson.”

Rick frowned. Larson sounded unsteady. “What’s up?”

“You need to come over here right now, Chief. The Jacksons came home from church a few minutes ago and well…their daughter, Kira…she’s dead, Chief. I’ve already called the coroner.”

Rick didn’t recall hanging up. The next thing he knew he was en route to the Jackson home. He kept turning over and over in his head the idea of how anyone could have gotten in and killed her with his deputy sitting right outside.

Pure fear trickled into his veins. He pulled out his cell and entered Melinda’s home number. He needed to hear Lacy’s voice. Now.

Bent had decided exactly what he wanted. He’d set up the big meeting. All he had to do now was make his desires known. He’d waited a long, long time for this.

“Are you ready to know the value I’ve placed on the rest of your life?”

His reluctant guest stared at him as if he were nothing but a cockroach to be squashed if the opportunity permitted.

But if anyone was going to do any squashing it would be him. Bent had to laugh. It felt so good to be in control. He liked that something as trivial in the grand scheme of things as that pitiful little .38 he’d hung on to for all that time had opened up the same opportunity for him as winning the lottery. He had big, big plans.

“I was thinking,” Bent said, dragging out the moment. He so loved this feeling of dominance, “that maybe I would like to—”

“Die?”

His full attention jerked back to the person seated next to him in his old Camaro. He opened his mouth to ask what the hell that remark meant when he saw the gun, and his words deserted him. He hadn’t expected this…not in a million years.

As streetwise as he was, he’d screwed up. He’d counted his chickens before they hatched.