CHAPTER 63

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

3:00 p.m.


Stacy pulled up in front of the Noble mansion. She saw that Kay Noble had wasted no time: A For Sale sign hung from the property’s iron fence; a minivan emblazoned with a moving company’s logo sat in the drive.

Stacy parked, climbed out of her vehicle and started for the house. As she reached the front porch, Kay emerged from the house with a man Stacy didn’t recognize. From the way he was dressed and the clipboard he was carrying, she assumed he was from the moving company.

The two shook hands; he told her he would be in touch, then walked away.

“Stacy,” the other woman said warmly, turning toward her. “What a nice surprise.”

“I wanted to check on you and Alice. See how you’re both doing.”

“Carrying on. Moving on.”

“I see that.”

“Too many memories.” She released a sad-sounding breath. “It’s been especially hard on Alice. She’s been so quiet.”

I’ll just bet. Probably too terrified to speak.

Stacy made a clucking noise she hoped sounded genuine. “It’s to be expected, I would think. She lost her father in a shocking way. She was exposed to a horror beyond the comprehension of most girls her age.”

“I’m getting her counseling. Her doctor said to expect healing to take time.”

The woman was the picture of love and concern. An award-winning performance, Stacy thought. Oscar-worthy.

“I just hope one day she can forget.”

“May I see her?”

“Of course. Come in.”

Stacy followed the other woman into the home. She saw that they had already begun consolidating their things for packing. She glanced around. “Is Valerie here? I’d like to tell her hello, as long as I’m here.”

“Valerie’s gone. She’s moved on.”

“Really? I’m surprised.”

“She was Leo’s hire, and now that he’s gone… I guess she didn’t feel comfortable.”

Mrs. Maitlin had thought of herself as so much more than a “hire.” She had considered herself one of the family. That had been obvious.

Stacy felt a moment of compassion for the woman. But only a moment: considering the circumstances, she was better off this way.

Kay crossed to the bottom of the stairs. “Alice!” she called. “Stacy’s here to see you.” She waited a moment, then called her daughter again.

When she still got no answer, she looked at Stacy. “That’s the other thing, she’s hardly come out of her room.”

Again, probably afraid to. Probably couldn’t bear to look at her mother.

The woman started up the stairs. “We owe you our lives, Stacy. And I want you to know how much I appreciate what you did for us. The chances you took.”

Her dark eyes welled with tears and Stacy once again silently congratulated her on her performance.

“If you hadn’t happened into our lives…I don’t even want to think about it. We’ll never forget you.”

“I’ll never forget you, either, Kay.”

They reached Alice’s room; Kay tapped on the closed door. “Alice? Stacy’s here to see you.”

The girl came to the door. When she saw Stacy, her lips lifted in a weak smile. “Hi, Stacy.”

“Hey,” she said softly. “How are you?”

The girl looked at her mother. “Okay, I guess.”

“Kay,” Stacy said, “go do what you have to do. I’ll visit with Alice awhile.”

The woman hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll be downstairs.”

Stacy watched her exit the room, then led Alice to the window seat. She wished she could close the door, but she didn’t want to arouse Kay’s suspicions.

Once seated, Stacy didn’t waste time. Tone hushed, she began, “I received a very interesting package today.” The girl didn’t comment and Stacy went on. “A laptop computer. An Apple. You know anything about it?”

Alice glanced toward the open doorway, obviously terrified. Her throat worked, as if she was trying to speak but couldn’t.

Stacy covered her hand. “I’ll take care of you. I promise. Did you send me the computer?”

She nodded, eyes welling with tears.

“Where did you get it?”

“Found it,” she whispered. “In a box of things Mom set out for trash pickup.”

Trash pickup. Stacy flexed her fingers, fighting the anger that surged through her. That computer had been Cassie’s, her most prized possession. The way Kay had discarded it was a metaphor for the way she had trashed Cassie’s life.

“What made you go through the box?” she asked.

“I saw her put some of Dad’s things in it. Things I wanted. She’s been doing a lot of that. She-”

Her throat seemed to close over the words and she cleared it. “I knew she’d argue with me, call everything I wanted junk, so when she went for a massage, I went through the box.”

“And that’s when you found it?”

“Yes. In a black plastic garbage bag. I don’t know why I looked in the bag, but the minute I saw it, I knew something was wrong. Mom never used an Apple. None of us did.”

“What happened next?”

“I…I opened it. And turned it on.”

She choked up then, tears spilling over. “I recognized your friend. And I knew.”

The house phone rang. Stacy heard the jangle from the hall. Once, then twice. It stopped, followed by the faint murmur of Kay answering.

“Why didn’t you call the police?”

“Because I…I trust you. I knew you wouldn’t let her get away with it.” She looked down at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap. “I’ve been so afraid she’d somehow…find out what I did. What I found. I think she means to…to-”

“What, Alice?”

“I think she means to kill me, too.”

Stacy thought she did, too.

“I’m going to call Malone,” she said softly, reaching for her holstered phone, finding the holster empty.

She’d left it in her car.

“What?” Alice asked.

“My cell’s in the car. You stay put, I’ll be right back.”

She grabbed her hand, squeezing tightly. “Don’t leave me!”

“I’m just running to the car. I promise I’ll-”

“Use the house phone.”

She shook her head. “Too risky.”

“I’m coming, too.”

Stacy freed her hand. “Stay put. We don’t want to arouse your mother’s suspicions.”

“Please, Stacy.” Her voice quivered. “I’m scared.”

And no wonder, poor kid. Her mother was a cold-blooded killer.

Stacy glanced out Alice’s window. Her car sat parked at the curb. She could retrieve the phone and be back in five minutes. Or less.

“My Glock’s in my purse. You know how to shoot?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Aim and pull the trigger. Think you can do that?” The girl nodded. “I’ll leave the gun with you. But don’t touch it unless you have no other option. Understand?”

She said she did and Stacy opened the window. “Call me if you need me. I can be back up here in seconds.”

She took one glance back at the teenager before she exited the room. The child was huddled on the window seat, Stacy’s purse hugged to her chest.

Poor kid. How was she going to get beyond this?

Stacy descended the stairs, forcing herself to move at an unhurried pace, just in case Kay appeared.

She made her car, retrieved her cell phone and called Malone.

He picked up. He sounded tense. “I can’t talk.”

PID. “Then just listen. Get over to the Noble place. Bring Tony and a couple uniforms with you.”

“I don’t have time for games just now-”

“Actually, the game’s why I’m calling. It’s still in play.”

“Are you-”

“Certain? Absolutely.”

“Stacy! Help!”

She looked up; the two women were silhouetted in the window. They were struggling. It looked as if Kay was trying to overwhelm her daughter.

“Get off of me! I hate you!”

Stacy swore. “I’ve got to go! Get over here-”

“What’s going-”

“Just get over here. Now!”

She hung up and ran toward the house.

“Murderer!” Alice screamed. “You killed Dad!”

Stacy reached the front steps and launched herself up them, across the porch. The gun’s blast came as she cleared the door. A high-pitched scream followed.

God, no. Please let the girl be safe.

Stacy took the stairs two at a time, making the top landing in seconds. She reached the girl’s room. Alice faced the window. It stood open; Stacy saw that the screen had been pushed out.

“Alice?”

The girl turned. The gun slipped from her fingers. “I killed her.”

“Where-”

Then she knew. She ran to the window and peered out. Kay lay faceup in the garden bed, her eyes open. Vacant.

Alice began to cry, the wail of sirens mingled with her sobs. “Come on,” she said softly, wrapping her arm around the girl and leading her to the bedroom door. “They’re going to need to ask you some questions. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

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