Sleeping Beauty

Chapter Thirty-Eight

An FBI agent drove Ashley from Murder for Fun to Sea-Tac airport, and an FBI jet flew her home. Delilah Wallace and Larry Birch had a car waiting at Portland International. When they were on the road, Delilah told Ashley that Randy Coleman had been picked up for questioning in connection with the attack at Sunny Rest. Ashley had trouble concentrating on the details of the arrest and only heard half of what the prosecutor said. She felt drained after her confrontation with Miles Van Meter, emotionally spent and physically exhausted. Ashley wished that she could curl up next to Jerry in their big comfortable bed and sleep the night away, but there was still one thing she had to do first.

A little before midnight, Larry Birch parked his unmarked car in front of the Van Meter mansion. Lights came on after the second ring. Moments later, a sleepy-eyed maid dressed in a nightgown and bathrobe opened the front door. Birch flashed his badge. The maid looked confused.

“We need to speak to Ms. Van Meter,” Birch said.

“She’s sleeping.”

“Who is it, Angela?” Casey called from the top of the stairs. She was wearing a blue silk robe over her nightgown. Delilah pushed past the maid and stood next to one of the suits of armor at the bottom of the stairs.

“It’s me, Delilah Wallace. Ashley is here, too.”

“What’s going on?” Casey asked. “It’s midnight.”

“I know, and I’m sorry to bother you, but something terrible has happened to Miles and we wanted to tell you in person. Is there someplace we can sit down and talk?”

“Please tell me what happened,” Casey said when they were seated in the library, where Delilah had met with Miles and Henry Van Meter many years earlier. Casey had taken the sofa, and Ashley sat beside her. Delilah and Larry Birch were opposite the couch in their own deep armchairs.

“Let me, Delilah,” Ashley said. “I should be the one to tell her. I’m her daughter. Miles is my uncle.”

“Tell me what?” Casey said, as she looked back and forth between Ashley and Delilah. Ashley turned sideways so she was facing Casey. They were inches apart.

“Miles has been arrested,” Ashley said. “Joshua Maxfield didn’t kill my father or Tanya Jones. It was Miles.”

Casey shook her head in disbelief. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I know this will be hard for you to believe,” Delilah said, “but your brother is a serial killer.”

Casey laughed. “I don’t know who told you that but…it’s insane. Miles isn’t a killer.”

“His vanity tripped him up,” Ashley said. “Remember the book that Joshua Maxfield wrote?”

Casey nodded.

“There was a draft in Maxfield’s cabin. It turns out that it was Miles who wrote it, not Joshua. If he could get it published, he could brag about his crimes without getting arrested, so he sent it to Maxfield for editing. But Joshua had writer’s block and he was desperate for a story idea. He rewrote Miles’s book. He plagiarized the draft.”

Casey was rigid, her hands clasped in her lap, her back straight. “I don’t believe any of this.”

Ashley leaned forward and laid a hand on Casey’s knee. “It’s true. They found Miles’s fingerprints all over the draft. They searched Miles’s house. There was a letter in the den from Joshua trying to discourage Miles from looking for a publisher.”

Ashley looked down. “They also found souvenirs that Miles took from his victims. They…Tanya Jones’s panties were…”

Ashley’s breath caught and she couldn’t go on. Casey’s mouth gaped open. She shook her head again.

“How could it be possible? I would have known.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about this, Casey,” Delilah said. “Miles had us all fooled.”

“But he’s my brother.” Casey breathed deeply as she fought to control her emotions.

“We do have one problem, though,” Larry Birch said. “We were hoping you could help clear it up.”

Casey turned toward the detective.

“We know that Joshua Maxfield didn’t kill Ashley’s father and Tanya Jones,” Delilah said. “And the only reason he would have had to kill Terri Spencer was to keep her from telling the police about his book, but he didn’t write the book, so he didn’t have a motive to kill Mrs. Spencer.”

“We also know that Miles was three thousand miles away when you and Terri were attacked in the boathouse,” Birch said. “We talked with the two attorneys from Brucher, Platt who were with him in New York. We are absolutely certain Miles could not have been in Oregon when Mrs. Spencer was killed.”

“So, that’s our problem,” Delilah said. “If Miles and Joshua Maxfield didn’t kill Mrs. Spencer, who did?”

Casey stiffened for a moment. Then she threw up her hands. “It had to be Joshua. He was standing there.”

“But you never actually saw him stab Terri Spencer, did you?” Delilah asked gently.

Casey hesitated. She shook her head slowly. She seemed confused.

“No, I didn’t. He was just there. I assumed… Oh, my God. I feel terrible.”

“Now that we know that Joshua Maxfield is innocent, we’ve arrested Randy Coleman for the attack on Ashley at Sunny Rest,” Delilah said. “Joshua testified that he saw a man who looked like Randy Coleman running from the boathouse. Do you think Coleman could have killed Terri Spencer? Maxfield thought he was after you and Terri was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. What do you think?”

Casey looked guilt-stricken. She wrung her hands.

“I’ve done something terrible,” she whispered.

“What have you done, Mom?” Ashley asked.

Being called “mom” seemed to unsettle Casey. “You have to understand, I was certain that Joshua killed Terri and Ashley’s father. I knew he’d attacked me. And Miles said…”

“Said what, Casey?” Delilah prodded.

Casey swallowed. She looked awful. “You know that I asked Dr. Linscott to let Miles visit after I came out of my coma? He was my first visitor.”

Delilah nodded.

“Miles told me what had happened while I was in the coma. He said that everyone knew Joshua killed Norman and that teenage girl at Ashley’s house. He said that Joshua tried to kill Ashley twice more after he failed at her house. He said Joshua had killed Terri. I told him about Randy but he said I must have been mistaken, that I had to say it was Joshua who murdered Terri.”

“What did you tell Miles about Randy Coleman?” Delilah asked.

Casey looked at Delilah. She seemed on the verge of tears. “I didn’t mean to lie. Miles told me that I had to say it was Joshua, or Joshua would be acquitted. But I did see Randy that evening. I saw him leaving the boathouse just before I went in.”

“You’re certain about that?” Larry Birch asked.

Casey nodded. “I know I should have said something, but he was my husband, and Miles…” She looked down again.

“So you saw Randy Coleman leaving the boathouse right before you walked in and found Terri Spencer’s body?” Delilah asked.

“Yes.”

“And he was your husband and you still had feelings for him, so you decided to cover for him?”

Casey nodded.

“Well that presents us with a whole ’nother problem,” Delilah said. “See, Joshua Maxfield says that he made up that story. He says he didn’t see anyone running from the boathouse after he heard those screams. There was nobody else there-except you.”

Casey’s eyes widened. Her head swung back and forth from Delilah to Birch and Ashley. They were all watching her carefully.

“One other thing, Ms. Van Meter,” the detective said. “After Miles was arrested we had a little chat. Know what he told us?”

Casey just stared at the detective.

“He told us that you killed Terri Spencer.”

“No, no. Miles would never turn on me,” Casey insisted.

Delilah smiled sadly. “You love your brother very much, don’t you?”

Casey didn’t answer.

“I feel sorry for you,” Delilah said. “I shouldn’t-you’re a cold-blooded killer-but I do. I had a brother. He’s dead, but I loved him with all my heart when he was alive. I still love him to this day. People will do strange things for love.”

Casey had closed up. Her face betrayed no emotions.

“I bet your heart is beating like a trip hammer, just like it was beating when Terri Spencer told you her suspicions about Joshua Maxfield,” Delilah said. “You knew your brother was writing a novel about his crimes. You knew that you had to act fast to silence Terri before she told her suspicions to the police. You were afraid that the police would talk to Maxfield and he’d tell them that he was cribbing from your brother’s book. If you’d talked to Miles, he would have told you that he sent the book anonymously, but you couldn’t get through to him. So you panicked. You lured Terri to the boathouse and killed her to shut her up.”

“Isn’t that what happened, Mom?” Ashley asked coldly.

“That is pure fiction,” Casey said. “None of that happened.”

“Then Maxfield walked in when you were crouched over Mrs. Spencer,” Delilah continued, ignoring the interruption. “You grabbed the knife again. To confuse him, you shouted, ‘Murderer.’ That’s what Ashley heard from outside the boathouse, wasn’t it, Ms. Van Meter, you yelling at Maxfield?”

“This is your story, not mine,” Casey answered.

“You hoped that Maxfield would be stunned from seeing Terri’s body and paralyzed by your shout. Then you could kill him, too. But he’s a trained fighter and his reflexes took over. He blocked the knife and decked you. Poor Joshua. He never suspected that you killed Mrs. Spencer. He was so guilt-stricken by what he’d done to you that it never dawned on him that you were a murderer. Hell, everyone was real sympathetic to you when you were in that coma. You had us all fooled. We thought you were a victim.”

“I was a victim. I didn’t kill Terri Spencer.”

Delilah sighed. “I guess a jury will have to sort that out. Of course, you could avoid a trial and help yourself by testifying against Miles.”

Casey’s features hardened and she stared directly into Delilah’s eyes.

“That will never happen.”

“Then it will go hard for you. You know that draft that Maxfield copied, the one your brother wrote? It has a chapter where the killer’s girlfriend helps him torture and murder a hitchhiker. That’s where she gets her first taste for blood. There’s another chapter where the two lovers break into a house, murder a family, and have sex after everyone is dead.

“The forensic investigators in Connecticut found pubic hairs in the guestroom bed at one of the crime scenes. They thought they belonged to the victim. I wonder what a DNA test would show now?”

Casey didn’t take the bait. Delilah hadn’t expected her to.

“Henry was a cruel man in his younger days,” Delilah said. “I think you and your brother became unnaturally close while you were dealing with his cruelty. There’s Miles’s vicious attack on Norman Spencer when he learned that he got you pregnant, and there are all these teenage girls he raped and murdered. Do you think he was acting out his fantasies about sleeping with you?”

“That’s disgusting,” Casey said. She glared at Delilah. Ashley thought that she would have killed the prosecutor if she’d had a weapon.

Delilah shrugged. “My degree is in law, not psychology, but I bet Freud would have had a field day with you and your brother. That kind of twisted love would create an unusual bond. It would explain why you’re reluctant to talk about Miles. Funny thing though, it didn’t stop him from trying to take you off of life support when you were in your coma.”

Casey’s features cracked for a second.

“Henry stopped him while he was alive,” Ashley said. “When Henry died, Miles filed to be named your guardian. He made no secret of the fact that he was going to take you off life support as soon as he had the power to do it. Coleman wanted you to die, too. I was the only one who wanted to keep you alive.”

“I don’t believe that.”

“It’s true,” Ashley said. “He had to get rid of you. You were the only one who knew he was a killer. He didn’t know what you would say if you came out of the coma. He couldn’t take the risk that you’d talk.”

Ashley squared her shoulders and stared down Casey Van Meter. “He didn’t care about you any more than I do.”