Killer Takes All

CHAPTER 54

Saturday, March 19, 2005

9:30 a.m.

Stacy flipped her phone shut and ran for the front door. She darted through, locked it and jogged to her car, parked on the street. She stopped and swore when she saw it. She was wedged in. Both the car in front and behind her had squeezed into too-small spots, leaving her about three inches to maneuver with.

Not enough.

Leo’s place wasn’t much more than a half a mile away. She could make it on foot in six or seven minutes-without denting any fenders.

She started off, urgency pushing her. She dialed Malone. He picked up right away. “Malone.”

“Run a background check on Alice’s tutor, Clark Dunbar,” she said.

“Hello to you, too, Killian. A little intense this morning, aren’t we?”

“Just do it.”

He became all business. “Ran him through the NCIC already. No priors.”

“Take it a step further.”

“What’s going on?”

“Clark Dunbar’s the White Rabbit.” A car sped by, windows open, hip-hop blaring. “I can’t go into it now, just trust me.”

“Where are you?”

“On my way to Leo’s. On foot.” She paused at a crosswalk, looked both ways, then darted across-earning the scream of a horn. “Don’t ask. Let me know what you find out.”

She hung up before he responded and dialed Leo’s cell number. “Leo, Stacy. I think Clark’s the White Rabbit. If you see him, stay away. Call me when you get this.”

She called the mansion next. Mrs. Maitlin answered.

“Valerie, have you heard anything from Clark?”

“Stacy? Are you all right? You sound-”

“I’m fine. Have you? Heard from Clark?”

“He’s here.”

Stacy’s heart dropped. “He’s there? I thought he was out of town for the weekend.”

“He was. I was so surprised to see him. Something about a reservation mixup, he said. Hold on a second.”

Stacy heard a male voice in the background, then the housekeeper’s reply. In the next instant, the woman returned. “So sorry. Where were-”

Stacy cut her off. “Just now, was that Clark?”

“No. Troy.”

“Valerie, this is important. Where’s Clark now?”

“Outside. With Alice.”

God, no. The crossing light changed and Stacy darted across the City Park Avenue and Wisner Boulevard intersection, cutting over to Esplanade. To her left stood City Park with its tennis and golf complexes, lagoons and the New Orleans Museum of Art.

“What about the police officer?” she asked. “Is he still there?”

“Out front.”

“Good. I want you to get Alice,” she said, working to keep her voice even. “Call her to the phone. Do not mention my name to Clark. Understand?”

“Yes, of course.”

“When Alice is inside and safe, get the officer. Have him stay by Alice’s side until I get there.”

“What’s going on?” The woman sounded rattled. “Should I call-”

“Just get Alice. Now, Valerie.”

Stacy heard the woman lay down the phone as she went after the teenager. She counted the seconds as they ticked past, heart thundering in her ears, praying the man didn’t catch wind that they were onto him and hurt Alice.

Just as she began to sweat, Alice came on the line. “Stacy, what-”

“Clark’s the one, Alice. The White Rabbit. Mrs. Maitlin is getting the police officer, and I’m just two blocks away.”

“Clark? That can’t-”

“It is.” Alice sounded terrified. “Stay put, do you understand? Until the officer comes inside, pretend you’re still on the phone.”

Alice agreed; Stacy reholstered her cell and broke into a run. It made perfect sense. Clark, with unfettered access to the household. To everyone in it, their schedules and routines. As Alice’s tutor, access to her thoughts and feelings. Her computer. As Kay’s lover, he had been privy to the woman’s most intimate thoughts.

The night she disappeared, Kay had welcomed him into the guest house. That’s why there’d been no sign of forced entry.

Until the bedroom, where he’d attacked her. Until the point she realized he wasn’t who he professed to be.

He had played them all. Expertly.

But that’s what a game master did.

Spencer and Tony arrived at the Nobles only a moment behind her. She waited for them at the front gate.

“Clark’s here,” she said, without greeting the two men. She filled them in on her call to the mansion.

“Good work,” Tony said.

“Thanks.” She glanced at Spencer. “You ran a background check on Dunbar?”

“Clark Dunbar doesn’t exist. Bogus social. Not registered at the DMV. How much you want to bet the Nobles never checked even one of his references?”

It never ceased to amaze Stacy how trusting people were. Even ones with as much to lose as Leo Noble.

“How did you know?”

“Billie. She learned that Danson’s real name wasn’t Dick. It was Charles Richard Danson. Guess what Clark’s middle name begins with?”

“An R.”

“Bingo. Billie also learned that the murdered dentist who identified Danson by his dental records volunteered his services to the poor and disenfranchised.”

“The ‘poor and disenfranchised,’” he repeated. “The kind of folks who can go missing without anyone sounding an alarm.”

“Give the man a gold star.”

“So, he faked his own death, changed his appearance with plastic surgery-”

“And headed down to New Orleans to rain a little bizarre justice down on his former partner and ex-girlfriend.”

They reached the front door, which, as usual, was opened by Mrs. Maitlin. Alice stood with her, clinging to the woman’s arm. “He’s gone,” Mrs. Maitlin cried. “When I called Alice inside, he walked to his car, climbed in and drove off. I realized what had happened and got Officer Nolan, but it was too late.”

“Where is Nolan?”

“He went after Clark.”

Spencer swung to Tony. “Get him on the radio!”

The other man sprang to action. Stacy wouldn’t have guessed Tony could move so fast. She indicated to Spencer that she would take care of Alice and Mrs. Maitlin. He nodded and she herded them inside.

They waited in the kitchen. Mrs. Maitlin made herself busy baking cookies, distracting Alice by enlisting her help. Just as the delicious aroma from the first batch began to fill the room, Spencer appeared at the doorway. He motioned to her.

“Don’t eat them all while I’m gone,” Stacy teased, forcing lightness into her tone.

Spencer led her out to the foyer. “Nolan lost him. We put out a broadcast for Danson and his car. A search warrant for his quarters is on the way.”

Her cell buzzed. She saw it was Leo. She mouthed the man’s name to Spencer, then picked up the call. “Leo, where are you?”

“Downtown.” The connection crackled. “I got your message. Clark’s the White Rabbit? My God, how did you-”

“There’s more, Leo. Clark is Danson.”

“Dick? You can’t mean-”

“I do. He faked his own death. Must have changed his appearance with plastic surgery, intent on punishing you for how he imagined you cheated him.”

Leo went silent, so silent Stacy thought the call had been dropped. “Leo? Are you still-”

“Yes, I’m here. Just digesting. It’s hard to believe-” His words broke on a sound of surprise. “What the…my God, you’re-”

Stacy heard a loud pop.

A gunshot.

“Leo!” she shouted. “Shit, Leo-”

Spencer grabbed the phone. “Mr. Noble? This is Detective Malone. Are you all right? Mr. Noble?”

Stacy watched Spencer, hoping, knowing her hope was futile.

He looked at her, expression grim. “I don’t want the kid to be alone,” he said, handing her the phone.

She looked at its display.

Call ended.

9:57 a.m.

Stacy swallowed hard, hurting for the teenager. “I’ll stay with her.”

“Better yet, I’ll send her over to Tony’s. She’ll be safer there.”