Chasing The Dead

Chapter Fifty-Three

Alex pulled into their garage just as Bonnie drove in behind her. Bonnie’s expression morphed from stony-eyed anger to wide-eyed worry when she saw Alex, pale and dripping with sweat, swaying as she stood in the garage, holding on to the car door.

“Holy crap, Alex!”

Bonnie rushed to her, throwing Alex’s arm across her back, using her shoulder to support her, doing a double take when Gladys took Alex’s other side and recoiling at Gladys’s odor.

“Who are you?”

“Gladys Knight. The Pips got lost on the way over. The little girl is Charlotte.”

Bonnie swung her head around. “What little girl?”

“That one.” Gladys pointed to Charlotte, who was standing in the corner of the garage, drawing air circles with her spatula.

“I can explain,” Alex said.

“Not until I stop the bleeding,” Bonnie answered.

While Bonnie cleaned and stitched her wounds, Alex told her about Judge Steele and Robin and about Bethany, Charlotte, and Gladys and the black dress.

“Put that dress in a plastic bag. I’ve got to preserve some kind of chain of evidence for it. And put it where Charlotte can’t find it. By the way, she’s autistic. She doesn’t talk and you can’t touch her, but she loves her spatula.”

“Noted.”

“I need to call Detective Harris and tell him that I found Charlotte.”

“Fine, but if you get out of that bed before tomorrow morning for any reason except to pee or poop, I’m going strap you down.”

“Promise me you’ll use the fake-fur straps you got at Erotic City.”

Bonnie grinned. “What am I going to do with you?”

Alex smiled. “Love me.”

“I might as well. Hate for the toys to go to waste. I’ll check on Gladys and Charlotte.”

Alex left Harris a message when he didn’t answer, then sank into her pillow and fell asleep.

Charlotte took a bath and Bonnie put her clothes in the washing machine, giving Charlotte a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt left over from when her niece visited a year ago, not objecting when Charlotte took her spatula into the tub.

After a lengthy argument with Gladys that ended when Bonnie promised to let Gladys pick a clean outfit from her closet, Gladys agreed to take a shower. Bonnie didn’t bother to wash Gladys’s clothes, burying them in the bottom of the barrel of trash that would be picked up the next day. Quincy followed her into the garage, sniffing and whining at the barrel until Bonnie made him come back in the house.

Satisfied that a semblance of order had been restored, Bonnie poured herself a glass of wine and settled into her easy chair, Quincy curled up beside her. The doorbell rang before she could take her first sip. Quincy raced her to the door, barking, sticking his head out as soon as Bonnie opened it, not recognizing the middle-aged blond woman who had rung the bell.

“Hello. I’m Sonia Steele. May I come in?”

It took a moment for Bonnie to register her name, making the connection to what Alex had told her, wondering why Sonia was standing on her doorstep instead of trying to get her husband out of jail. Not knowing what to say to someone whose spouse is an accused murderer, she decided to act like she didn’t know.

“Of course, of course. Forgive me. I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

Sonia walked through the entry hall, glancing in every room until she found the kitchen. Bonnie hurried to catch up.

“You must be Bonnie.”

“Yes. I’m sorry, but do we know each other?”

Sonia smiled. “No. Alex is a friend of mine. I was hoping to talk with her. Is she home?”

Alex hadn’t described Sonia as a friend and Bonnie didn’t like the way she’d swept into the house, both of which made her uneasy.

“She’s asleep. I’ll tell her you stopped by. I’m sure she’ll call you tomorrow.”

“It’s important. I’d rather not wait until then.”

Bonnie stiffened. “I’m sorry, but she’s not feeling well.”

Sonia drew a gun from her purse. “That’s the least of her troubles.”

Alex stirred, hearing Quincy bark, murmuring.

“Shut up, dog.”

She smiled when Quincy quieted.

“Good doggie.”

A moment later, Gladys opened the bedroom door. “Pssst. You got company.”

Alex propped herself up on her elbow, rubbing her eyes. Gladys, her hair wet and pulled back in a bun, was wearing a pair of Bonnie’s Juicy Couture velour pants, a Free People pullover Alex had given Bonnie for Christmas, and a pair of Alex’s boots.

“What on earth are you doing wearing Bonnie’s clothes and my shoes?”

“That doctor of yours drives a hard bargain.”

Alex sat up in bed. “I can only imagine. What did you say about having company?”

“There’s a woman in the kitchen with the doc.”

“Who?”

Gladys put her hands on her hips. “Like I’m supposed to know.”

“Then why did you wake me?”

“On account of your dog.”

“Don’t worry. He’s harmless.”

“But she ain’t.”

Alex rubbed her face with both hands, staring at Gladys, wondering if the woman was an escapee from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. “Who isn’t?”

“The woman in the kitchen.”

Alex swung her legs off the bed. “How do you know that?”

“I told you, the dog. I heard the bell and the dog and then I heard voices. So I took a peek. All I could see was that dog of yours. His hair is up and he’s holding still as a statue.”

“You’re crazy, you know that, don’t you?”

Gladys glared at Alex, arms crossed over her chest. Alex’s phone chirped with a text message from Rossi. It’s not the judge. Call me ASAP.

Rossi answered on the first ring.

“Where are you?”

“Home and in bed. What do you mean it’s not the judge?”

“He’s got an alibi that checks out. He was at something called the Inns of Court. It’s a lawyers and judges thing.”

“I know what it is. What about the affair with Robin?”

“He admitted it. Said his wife found out and she wasn’t happy. But that’s not all. You were right about him and Joanie. They had a thing after she got out of diversion, but it didn’t last. Then she told him she was pregnant and asked him to pay the bills.”

“So he’s Charlotte’s father?”

“Not according to him. He says Joanie told him it was someone else. He says he paid her medical bills anyway because he had a soft spot for her. He says the next time he heard from her was when the sister, Bethany, pressed him to get her into Fresh Start.”

“That was Bethany’s idea?”

“So he says. Makes sense. Not too many addicts get to rehab on their own, and she knew what Steele had already done for Joanie.”

“What about the five grand?”

“His money, not the foundation’s. He said Bethany called him a couple of weeks ago and told him that Joanie had lied about the kid not being his and demanding money.”

“Or she’d go public.”

“Right, but here’s the kicker. Bethany told him the kid is autistic and she needed the money to pay for the kid’s therapy.”

“But Bethany told me she didn’t have money to pay for therapy. She must have been planning to keep it for herself.”

“She may have planned on using the money for Charlotte at first, but she got greedy and told Steele that the five grand was just for starters and that she wanted ten thousand a month.”

“What did Steele say?”

“He said that if Charlotte was his kid, he’d take care of her but he wanted DNA testing to confirm that he was the father.”

“So how did it all get sideways?”

“When Steele’s wife found out about him and Robin, he decided to come clean about the kid, and then she went ballistic, told him they weren’t going to pay a dime and that she would take care of it.”

“You think Sonia killed Robin?”

“Had to be her. Steele had a permanent reservation at a motel on Barry Road that he and Robin used. The motel manager confirmed that someone used it the night Robin was killed. My guess is Sonia met Robin there, they argued, and the rest is history.”

“I think I may have found the dress Joanie Sutherland was wearing when she was killed. If there’s any of Sonia’s DNA on it, that could tie her to Joanie’s murder.”

“And Bethany’s if she decided to get rid of both blackmailers. We’re looking for Sonia but she’s in the wind.”

Alex looked at Gladys, who was listening to Alex’s side of the conversation, giving her a wide-eyed, now-do-you-believe-me look.

“I think the wind just blew her into my kitchen.”

“Don’t do anything stupid. I’m on my way.”

Alex went to the top of the stairs, surprised to see Charlotte sitting on the bottom step, tapping the carpet with her spatula. Charlotte got up, went down the hall into the kitchen, and began screaming, a piercing, terrified wail. Alex hustled after her, Gladys on her heels, both rushing into the kitchen.

Bonnie was standing by the sink, pale and bracing herself with one hand on the counter. Charlotte was balled up on the floor next to a small desk opposite Bonnie, screaming so loud it was difficult to hear. Sonia stood next to the kitchen table, holding a gun, the three of them forming a triangle, Alex and Gladys falling into the line between Bonnie and Charlotte. Quincy was on all fours, hugging Bonnie’s side.

The veins in Sonia’s neck swelled, her eyes blazing, her jaw set. She aimed the gun at Charlotte. “Somebody shut that little bitch up before I do it for her.”

Quincy went to Charlotte, licking her face. Instead of shrinking from the dog, she stopped crying and stroked his fur. Quincy kept himself in front of Charlotte, shielding her, his ears back and his eyes locked on Sonia.

Alex’s heart was racing, pounding against her ribs, making her wounds throb with pain. Light-headed, she glanced at Gladys, whose arms were locked at her sides, her fists balled as she raised her heels up and down like she was winding herself up to launch at Sonia. Certain that Sonia would shoot Gladys at the slightest move, Alex put her hand on Gladys’s arm, holding both of them in place. She wanted to keep Sonia talking, hoping Rossi would get there in time.

“Her name is Charlotte. She’s ten years old and she’s autistic. She was screaming because you frightened her.”

“Why would I frighten the bitch?”

“Well, the gun is scary enough. But when the woman holding the gun is the same person Charlotte saw murder her mother and her aunt, that’s really scary.”

Sonia kept her gun on Charlotte. “You know, I could have lived with Tony having an affair. After all, what man hasn’t? I could have even gotten over him fucking my best friend. But having a bastard child with a prostitute? This. . this pathetic little thing.” She bared her teeth. “That was too much, and her whore mother and her vulgar aunt demanding my money to save my husband’s reputation!” She shook her head. “I told Tony that I wouldn’t stand for it!”

Alex said, “So you strangled Joanie Sutherland in the woods at Liberty Park and threw her body in the creek, and then you crushed her sister Bethany’s skull with an iron.”

Sonia’s face reddened, her lips quivering. She turned her gun on Alex. “Well, I wasn’t going to put them on the fucking payroll. And you! You made it worse refusing to tell me what Robin said in her message. How could I risk not knowing if she said something about me?”

“She didn’t but if she had, the police would have already talked to you so you stabbed me for nothing.”

Sonia’s face slackened. “You don’t know that.”

“Of course I do but you’re like some other killers I’ve represented. You got so caught up in killing that you couldn’t think of anything else.”

“But don’t you see, that’s the point. Stabbing you wasn’t my fault! You could have told me there was nothing on that message about me. And if Tony had kept his dick in his pants, Robin would be alive! They’d all be alive! None of this is my fault! None of it!”

“I know the people you cared about didn’t just let you down; they betrayed you. But none of us had a hand in that. Charlotte didn’t ask to be born. Bonnie and Gladys never met you before. And I am so sorry I didn’t tell you about the message. But there’s no reason to make things any worse. We can find a way out of this.”

Sonia’s mouth turned down, her face sagging with resignation. “Don’t kid yourself. We both know there’s only one way this can end.”

She swung her gun in an arc, pointing at them one at a time like she was deciding whom to kill first, settling on Bonnie, who looked at Alex, stricken.

“I love you, Alex Stone.”

“Sonia! Please! You don’t have to do this.”

“But it will feel so good.”

Quincy sprang at Sonia as she pulled the trigger, barreling her to the floor and throwing her aim off so the bullet missed Bonnie. He clamped his jaws on her gun hand, shaking it like it was a rag doll.

“Get him off! Get him off!”

Sonia battered Quincy with her free hand until Gladys kicked her in the head, knocking her out. She straddled Sonia, brushing her hands together.

“Can’t stand a person what would hurt a dog.”