Buried Bones (43 page)

I closed my eyes and waited for the bullet.

"Daddy!" Brianna rose to her feet. "You can't just shoot her. Let's get out of here."

I thought of pointing out that he'd already killed Lenore, Lawrence, and Joseph Grace, but it wasn't in my best interest to play scorekeeper. "If you leave now, you have a chance of getting away. You can go out of the country. With your money, you can
buy
a country. But I'm not kidding, Coleman will be here any minute."

"Daddy?" Brianna descended a step or two. Confusion had been replaced by the first hint of anger. "Why did you want me to help
Lawrence
with his book? You encouraged me to do this, and all along you knew I'd find out about . . . Mother. This book could have ruined me. I'd be a laughingstock, a bastard."

"You're my daughter. You're a Rathbone. I loved you enough to steal you, enough to kill anyone who threatened you. Threatened us.
Lawrence
knew too much. As long as you were working with him, I could control what he wrote. But when he broke the contract . . . well, I didn't have a choice. It's one thing for us to know, but not the world. You're famous, Brianna. My beautiful daughter, the model. Everyone would forget that and remember only that I wasn't married to your mother. I didn't want
Lawrence
to write about you in that way. I couldn't allow him to write about
Moon
Lake
."

Sweetie Pie slammed into the door again. Hard. She gave a cry of pain that tore at my heart. I started instinctively toward the kitchen.

"Hey! Get back over here."

Layton
's shout stopped me cold, just in time to see Sweetie Pie, her white bandage soaked with blood, flying through the air in a direct trajectory toward
Layton
. She hit him with all seventy pounds of hound.

The sound of the shot echoed in the foyer, a reverberation that was punctuated by Brianna's scream and Sweetie Pie's howl.

The gun flew out of
Layton
's hand and skittered on the black and white foyer tile. Though Brianna leapt to her feet, she didn't have a chance. I scooped up the weapon and turned it on them both.

In the distance was the sound of a wailing siren. At my feet, Sweetie Pie lay in a bloody heap.

28

Coleman wrapped me in a comforter as I sat on the floor holding Sweetie Pie's head in my lap.
Layton
and Brianna, cuffed and Miranda-ized, sat on the sofa.

"She's torn her stitches open, Sarah Booth, but she wasn't shot," Coleman reassured me. "Dr. Matthews is on the way, sutures in hand."

"She saved my life. Again." I was pretty certain Sweetie had been the hound who knocked Pasco Walters over in my last case. I'd begun to recognize her MO--the Baskervillish leap out of the darkness. This time, though, she might pay with her life. Her white bandage was saturated with blood.

Coleman knelt down beside me. "She just popped a couple of stitches. I've never heard of a dog more determined to protect her mistress. She may be ugly, but she's loyal."

"Yeah." I rubbed her silky ears and got a warm tongue.

"Here's Dr. Matthews," Tinkie called from the doorway. She was all dressed for the ball, her white gown glittering in the lights of the foyer candelabra.

As soon as Dr. Matthews arrived, Coleman lifted me to my feet and pointedly handed me over to Tinkie. "Make some coffee," he suggested.

Tinkie led me into the kitchen. Instead of coffee, she pulled the bottle of champagne from the refrigerator and popped the cork. "It's still forty minutes until midnight, but I think we need a head start."

I accepted the champagne and got out a stainless steel pot. I'd forgotten to put my black-eyed peas on to soak. I didn't need any more bad luck--I'd eat them tomorrow if they were hard as rocks.

"How did you know to call Coleman?" I asked her.

"I called to check on Sweetie, and Dr. Matthews asked me if I knew of anyone who might want to hurt either you or Sweetie. He said he thought the dog had been stabbed, but he didn't want to upset you until he was certain. I just put two and two together. And then Oscar, who has been absolutely spilling his guts to me ever since we had our little, uh, midday rendezvous, made the comment that
Layton
was about to lose Rathbone House and how appropriate it was since it had been bought with blood money. I put it together about what you told me about
Moon
Lake
and the past. I wasn't certain how
Layton
fit into it, but I knew his hands were dirty."

I gave her a tired smile. "You saved my life."

"Not really. Coleman and I just effected the mopping up. You already had them both at gunpoint." She topped off my glass. "If Daddy and Oscar had just told me the whole truth ..."

I didn't have the energy to point out that such disclosures were seldom freely given outside the circle of men. "So
Layton
was in cahoots with Hosea up at
Moon
Lake
." Finally, everything made sense. "
Layton
's affair with Lenore was just an excuse to keep going back to
Moon
Lake
. He used her. From beginning to end." I sat down at the kitchen table and finished off my champagne in one gulp.

Tinkie refilled my glass.

"I don't understand why Jebediah didn't kill
Layton
when he killed Hosea," Tinkie said.

"I doubt we'll ever know that. Hosea was a bully, but he didn't have what it took to kill, and
Layton
did. It's clear he killed Lawrence and Joseph Grace." I shuddered. Coleman had told me that the photographs that had been cut from the albums at
Moon
Lake
had been found on Grace's body. Apparently the dean had been trying to set up a blackmail scheme against
Layton
. Not very smart, since it had cost him his life. "Maybe Jebediah was ultimately afraid of
Layton
."

"What will happen to Brianna and her father?" Tinkie put the bottle in front of me.

"Brianna poisoned
Lawrence
with the warfarin. She confessed to me. But it was
Layton
who went over there and cut his hand. He's the murderer."

"
Layton
knew Brianna was poisoning him?"

"He was the one who got the warfarin for her. I thought it was the rat poison she was using, but it wasn't. She was crushing up pills and dumping them in the Jim Beam. When she found the rat poison in Harold's briefcase, it was the perfect opportunity to frame Harold." Once arrested, Brianna had spilled her guts in an effort to save her own hide.

"What will happen to Willem?" Tinkie asked.

"I don't know. He
was
trying to replace the paintings. And Harold said
Lawrence
knew about it. I suppose it depends to a large extent on whether Harold wants to press charges or not."

There was a tap on the kitchen door. Dr. Matthews came in and put a hand on my shoulder. "Sweetie Pie's going to be just fine, Sarah Booth. I sedated her and resutured. She'll sleep until morning, and I suggest that you do the same."

It sounded like heavenly advice. "Thanks. For everything."

I walked him to the front door and watched as Coleman led Brianna and
Layton
out to the patrol car. A couple of deputies had arrived to work backup, and Tinkie and I stood in the freezing cold on the porch as they all left.

"It's finally over," Tinkie said, putting an arm around my shoulders. "You solved your second case, Sarah Booth!"

The shrill of the telephone almost made me jump out of my skin. "I'll get it." Tinkie rushed back inside, and I followed. I felt as if I'd been run over by a bulldozer and buried in a ditch.

"She'll be there," I heard Tinkie promise.

"Be where?" I asked.

"That was Cece. She's about to have a duck. She's at The Club with the camera, and she's waiting for you."

"The dance." There was no possible way I could go to the New Year's Eve dance. Not even for Cece. I groaned and headed toward the sofa. Sweetie was sleeping peacefully beside it, the last flickering blaze of the fire Coleman had built highlighting the russet spots of her hide.

Tinkie's hand grabbed mine and she pulled me toward the door. "You have to go."

"I can't," I whined. "I really can't."

"You have to." There was determination in Tinkie's voice. "Trust me, Sarah Booth. You want to go."

"I do not."

"You do. And you're going." She went to the closet and pulled out a coat. "Put it on."

"Why?" I couldn't believe she was going to force me.

"You gave your word. Sarah Booth Delaney, private investigator, never reneges on her word."

I was beginning to regret hiring Tinkie. Sure, she'd saved my life by calling Coleman. And she'd saved Sweetie's life. I looked down at my sleeping hound and slipped into the coat. There were some things worth payback.

"I'll drive." She hustled me out to the car and in a matter of moments we were flying through the Delta night. The full moon had risen high and assumed the lead role in the sparkling night.

"We'll make it just before midnight," she declared as she burned rubber in the parking lot. "It's a new year, Sarah Booth, you can't celebrate alone."

I'd intended to sleep, but it was a moot issue anyway. I got out of the car and walked into The Club. Cece waved to me from across the room.

Someone had hired a hot band, and when the lead guitar hit a chilling slide, the skin on my bare back danced. I hadn't recognized him at first, but there was no mistaking Percy Sledge as he belted out his signature song, "When a Man Loves a Woman."

Even as tired and bruised as I was, the song moved me. A firm hand settled on my bare shoulder, the fingers tightening with just enough pressure to make me draw a sudden breath. I turned to face Hamilton Garrett V.

It wasn't possible, but in his tuxedo, he was even more handsome than I remembered. His dark hair was pulled back, revealing the chiseled jaw that I recalled so well in the morning light of my bedroom window. His green eyes burned with devilment.

"Happy New Year, Sarah Booth. May I have this dance?"

My entire blood supply shot to my head and then rushed to my skin. I went from cold to hot in a nanosecond. "
Hamilton
?" Surely I was dreaming.

"I couldn't possibly welcome in the new year alone," he said, easing me into his arms.

I found my face resting against his starched shirt and my body moving in tandem with his. It was a good thing because I was incapable of speech. Perhaps Layton had actually shot me and this was some kind of heavenly limbo where I could merely rest in Hamilton's imagined arms until I was called up for judgment.

"Sarah Booth!" I heard Tinkie whispering my name and I lifted my head long enough to find her. She was dancing beside me in Oscar's arms. "I told you I had a surprise," she said, giggling. "And Oscar said I couldn't keep a secret." She looked up at her husband with open flirtation. "There are lots of things I don't tell. Since I'm Sarah Booth's partner, I have to be very discreet."

They danced away and I was left with the problem of saying something to
Hamilton
. When I looked up at him, I found he was watching me with amused expectation.

"What, no questions? I was certain you'd have at least fifty things to ask me, most of them personal and none of them any of your business."

"And what makes you think I'd be interested enough in your business to ask a single question?" I asked, but then I couldn't help myself. "Why
did
you come home?"

Hamilton
chuckled, dipping me down at the end of the song. "To see you, Sarah Booth. I found that
Paris
was dull without you."

Whether it was his words or the dip, I couldn't be certain, but a wave of dizziness swept over me. Luckily he had strong arms, and he pulled me upright against him. His lips whispered over my forehead. "I've missed you."

The band swung into the opening strain of "Auld Lang Syne," and everyone began the countdown.

"Why didn't you call, or at least send a card?"

"We can play sixty questions, or you can kiss me,"
Hamilton
suggested.

I closed my eyes and offered my lips as the parters hit five-four-three-two-one. The clapping, cheering, horn-blowing crowd dimmed. There was only
Hamilton
.