The Second Man (23 page)

She stared at Peter’s hand, the blood-red stone sparkling like a demon’s eye. “Whose ring are you wearing?”

He held up his fist and admired it. “This, strangely enough, is Kallstrom’s. Which brings me to my second reason for coming to town. First thing I did was call Marissa, which of course I had to do to see what her brother Ben had called and told her about meeting me in Paris. I knew he had spoken to her because her number was the last he’d called on his cell. Anyway, lo and behold, the chit was thrilled to see me. Said Ben had mentioned running into me, but she didn’t tie it to his dying shortly after.”

“She didn’t know Ben was murdered.”

“Right. The poor lass was saved that sad news. Which was good for me, you see, because evidently she had a yen for Cousin Ham since her school days. When I expressed some interest in those enormous tits of hers, she had me undressed and plowing her good in record time.” Peter snickered. “She wasn’t very subtle about our hooking up some more when I ran into her at the events this week, but thank god Andrew, your ex-better half, was fortuitously squiring her around, too.”

Jill flinched at the mention of Andrew. He was going to feel humiliated to find out he had been so wrong about Max.

“You don’t like Denton much, I can see.” Peter studied her face. “Did you know he’s still got it bad for you? He called me up a couple of months ago to enlist my help in investigating old Ben’s death, which gave me quite a fright, if you want to know the truth. But it became clear right away Andrew had his mind set that Ben’s killer was Max. He let jealousy get the best of him, but as his mistake benefited me, I played along. And I reinforced them when I left Ben’s cellphone in Max’s hotel room.”

She felt no triumph hearing him admit he had framed Max. “The cops are going to find out Max is innocent. They’ll look for other answers. They’ll find out about you.”

“You think so? I don’t. Especially with you out of the way.” His voice was harsh suddenly, no longer relaxed. “So sorry, Jill, but once I decided to pin Ben Pierce’s murder on Max, it became clear that I was going to have to involve you in my mop-up activity.” He shook his head as if he was actually sorry. “I know Andrew’s already convinced, and has the cops looking at Max hard, but when you turn up dead, well, they’ll throw away the key. Justice will be a little blind as far as any loose ends about Max Kallstrom’s innocence.”

She strained again against the bindings. “You’re not going to get away with this. Someone will find a fingerprint, or check your travel, or find Hamilton’s body someday. You’ll be caught. If you are smart, you’ll run now. You created a new identity for yourself once, if you leave now you might be able to get away with it again.”

Peter shocked Jill by laughing as if he was delighted. “Some people never do change, do they? Carly always said you were a Pollyanna, believing in truth, justice, and smart American girls getting themselves out of trouble. Sorry, love. This is the perfect crime. The cops will think Max killed Peter, and Marissa.”

He slipped the gun he had smacked her with in the garage out of his pocket. “What’s Max doing with this, by the way? I found it in his hotel last night when I left the cellphone.”

Jill glared at him.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But it came in handy with Marissa.”

“Why did you kill her? You said she didn’t realize you weren’t Hamilton.” Jill inadvertently glanced at the curtains, but quickly turned back to stare at Peter. “How could you do that?”

“I had to. When I heard Marissa on the phone with you, I realized she could gum things up if she gave Max his ring. I needed it, you see, to help in the frame, and if I asked her for it, or just stole it from her place, she might have been trouble down the line.”

“You’re disgusting.”

Peter moved closer to the bed. “I’m an opportunist, more’s the truth. I’m fast on my feet. When Carly told me weeks ago about you keeping some of Max’s hair in your locket, I filed it away. Because of that, I was able to leave some nice evidence under Marissa’s fingernails your Max will have a time explaining, thanks to Andrew pointing the coppers at him. Poor Andrew. Sucks to be a two-time loser I imagine.” Peter moved toward the door. “I’ve enjoyed our chat, but I need to get going now.”

Her brain felt as if it were on fire. Jill shook her head, risking a sideways glance at the window. There was nothing to see now except black night.

She wet her lips. “What were you looking for in the box in the garage?”
Keep him talking . . .…

Peter stopped, his hand on the light switch. “Your cassette tapes from the school recital Hamilton performed so well in. Aside from being a leftie, I also have no musical ability at all, you see. When Millard pressed me to play, she seemed suspicious to me. I saw something in her eyes the other night, she was squinting at me. So I nicked a couple more out of the old crone’s office. And came to get yours. Tiny loose end. But a loose end nonetheless.”

“What are you going to do with me?” Jill moved her arms out from under the covers and struggled to scoot up to a sitting position. “I’m tied up. I can’t get to my mother if she needs help.”

“Oh, your Mum’s fine. She woke up a while ago so I gave her a drink of juice and a sedative. She’s dozing out on the patio now, happy as a clam.” Peter walked to the window and pulled the drapery completely open. “See her out there?”

Jill inhaled, praying there was nothing outside that would escalate the surreal into the deadly. She saw only the dimly lit figure of her mother on the lounger, not moving. “So now what?”

“I’ll be back in a second with a nice cuppa. You’re looking a peaked yourself, dear girl. I need to give you something to sleep. This candle will help relax you, too.”

Peter grinned, a cold gleam in his bright blue eyes. “You’ll dream sweet dreams and this will all be over soon.”

As soon as he left the room, Jill rolled over and managed to sit up. Her feet were bound tightly so she reached down and tugged at the satin binding from her robe that Peter had used, but it didn’t budge. She bit at the ties on her hand, making zero progress as her brain screamed for her to get to a phone and call for help.

She struggled wildly, but had no idea where her purse was. For a moment she considered going to the window and yelling her lungs out, but knew Peter would silence her, and then her mother would be at his mercy. Just then her neighbor’s air-conditioning unit kicked on, drowning out her thoughts.

I can’t risk it.
She searched the window for a sign of another person, but saw nothing. The shadow she had seen outside could have been a cloud over the moon, she realized with a sinking heart. She began to panic, realizing that if Peter Cullen had told her as much as he had, that he must have plans to kill her.

“Jill.” Her whispered name floated through the air like a wasp. She sat bolt upright and squinted at the window.

Max pressed his face against the screen, his finger to his lips, signaling for her to be quiet. He ran a blade down the middle of the screen, slicing it open with a glint of silver.

A moment later, he was in the room, his arms around her.

Jill trembled so violently she thought she might shake apart. “Cut me loose. I can’t move.”

“Shhh. Where’s your cellphone?”

She shook her head. She couldn’t remember where her purse was.

“Mine died.” Max cut the silk binding her legs with one stroke. She fell against him as he carefully slit the heavier cord wrapped around her wrists.

She rubbed her hands together and they crept toward the door. “Patio.” He whispered. “Get outside and call for help.”

Jill clung to Max for a second, not wanting to leave. She had no idea why he was no longer in police custody, but she felt no fear.

She heard Peter in the kitchen, slamming cupboards while he looked for god knows what. “He has a gun.”

“I saw it.” Her lover’s eyes darkened and his lips pursed into a grim line. He still had the penknife in his hand and pushed her gently into the hallway. “Go now, get out through the living room.”

She would have to carry her mother off the patio if she couldn’t wake her, and drag her to one of the neighbors and call the police. “I don’t know how you made your way here tonight, or why, but thank you.”

Max touched her face, his mouth softening for an instant. “You’ve trusted me, forgiven me, and did everything you could to help me. I’m amazed at your kindness. It’s I who need to say thank you.” He pulled her closer. “And I will when this is over. But now you need to get out of here and take care of your mother. Go. We need more help.”

She kissed him hard and hurried out of the room. Her aching legs faltered and she almost fell hurrying down the hallway. She glanced back fearfully and saw Max, standing still as a pillar, watching her. She slid the screen door carefully, and ducked out onto the shadowy deck.

Get Mother. Go next door. Call 9-1-1.

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and Jill stopped in shock. Dorothy was not on the lounger.

The patio was empty.

Chapter 22

Jill whirled around and hurried to the side alley that led to the street. The gate was wide open. She ran out to the front yard but there was no sign of her mother anywhere.

She glanced at her neighbors.
Should I go to the door and bang on it, scream for them to call the police?

No, I have to find Mother first.

Jill made a 360-degree check of the area and saw a flash of light through her kitchen window. Her mother was inside the kitchen at the counter, looking out at her!

“Mom!” Jill gasped and started toward the house just as the kitchen light went off.

Jill darted back into her yard and ran across the patio and into the living room, right into the grasp of Peter. He pushed her roughly against the wall, his gun pressed against her chest.

“Hold still,” he ordered. “Where’s your mother?”

“I, I don’t know. She’s outside somewhere,” she lied, waving toward the patio.
Mom must be hiding
.
In the powder room or out in the garage,
Jill thought, knowing how doors confused her. “I need to go out and find her.”

Peter pulled her hair, so close to her she could smell his stale breath. “If the cops show up, you’re both dead.”

“I didn’t call them.” Her eyes darted toward the kitchen.
Where is Max
?

She gasped then, seeing Max laying in the hallway at the edge of the living room, face down.

“Oh my god, what have you done?” At that moment Jill saw Peter’s shirt was covered with blood.

“Max stabbed me. So I shot him.” He pulled her past Max’s unmoving body and pushed her down onto her bed, yanking off his necktie. “Tie your feet together.” He picked up her robe and pulled off the belt. “I’ll do your arms.”

“I’m not moving until you let me help Max.”

“God damn it, Jill, tie your feet together now or I’ll shoot you right now. Then what will your mother do?” He pointed the gun at her and pulled the trigger back.

With shaking hands, she bound her ankles together, praying her mother stayed in whatever hidey-hole she had found. She held out her hands, her voice shaking. “Why don’t you leave? Get out while you can.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Peter said sarcastically. Savagely he wrapped the belt tighter and fastened it securely to the wrought iron headboard. “I’ve got my own plan.”

He was pale and his hands shook. She saw a wound trailing blood on the side of his neck.

Her arms screamed with pain from the tightness of her bindings. “What are you going to do now?”

Peter grabbed a tee from her drawer and stuck it inside his shirt against a second wound on his shoulder. “What I should have done a half an hour ago. I’m taking your car. Where are the keys?”

“In my purse,” she said, remembering in a moment of clarity where she had left it. “It’s inside the closet, on the floor. But what about Max? If I’m tied up, I can’t help him.”

“He’s dead. Or will be in a minute.” Peter shoved her head against the headboard. “Sorry, lass. You’re done rescuing people for the night. This is goodbye.” He pushed a silk scarf into her mouth. As she watched in horror, he then picked up the lit candle from the night table and tossed it into her open bureau drawer. The smell of burning silk filled the air immediately.

“They’ll blame that on your mum playing with matches, no doubt.” He dropped Max’s gun on the floor out of her reach. “And they’ll think Mad Max tried to kill you because you knew too much about his plan. But you fought back, brave girl. It will be very easy for Andrew and the cops to explain the whole thing.”

Peter pulled Max’s motionless body into the bedroom by his feet and left him on the floor next to her bed. With a final look around his well-staged mayhem, he disappeared from sight.

Her entire body shook from fright.
What am I going to do?
She tried to roll, but couldn’t because of how tightly Peter had tied her to the headboard.

Max groaned. Jill looked down and saw his hand jerk, as if he was trying to push himself upright. His dark hair was matted with blood.

Tears welled in her eyes and her throat felt like it was closing. She ordered herself to calm and worked to push the handkerchief out of her mouth.

The smoke was becoming thicker and more acrid as items inside the dresser drawer began to smolder. She prayed someone had seen or heard something, and had called the police.

Without warning, a gunshot rang out, and a man screamed.

Jill froze.
What happened? Were the police here?

Pale as a ghost, her nightgown spattered with blood, her mother walked through the door. Jill’s father’s service revolver was clutched in her right hand.

Her mother waved the gun around and then pointed it at Max. “Fire,” Dorothy said, her eyes wild.

Jill finally managed to spit the gag out of her mouth. “Mom, put the gun down on the floor. Go outside and scream fire. Please! Go now!”

Dorothy stared at her blankly.

“Mom! Listen. Go outside. You have to help us both now,” Jill screamed, straining against the binding, trying to free herself from the headboard.

“Who is that man?” Her mother dropped the gun and stumbled out of the bedroom doorway, swallowed by the smoky darkness.

“Jill,” Max moaned and rolled on side. His face was covered with blood. “Jill.”

She yearned to touch him but couldn’t move. She began to cough as her eyes watered and panic built in her chest. The smoke was thickening, and the heat and flames intensified across the room.

“Max, can you move? Max, crawl out of here if you can. Max!”

He grabbed the side of the bed and pulled himself up. His eyes were agonized. He tried to stand. “Jill . . .”

Their eyes met. “Max, mother is out there somewhere. Please go help her if you can.” She was finding it hard to breathe and convulsed with coughing.

Max managed to stand and he reached for her, his hands fumbling with her bindings. His forehead was a red gash, and his right arm was drenched with blood.

Across the room, the dresser flashed into blue flame. Max fell across the bed.

“Turn your head into the mattress,” he said. “Cover your mouth and don’t breathe the smoke.”

Her eyes met his, and then Max’s closed and he went limp.

Jill screamed and pushed him off of her, breaking free from the ties on her arms, and both of them tumbled to the floor. Jill’s ankles were numb and she knew she didn’t have the time or strength to get the bindings off.

I’m going to die here tonight
, she thought. Before Max knew she loved him, before they had another chance.

Suddenly there were sirens, so loud they seemed inside the house. There was pounding on the front door, and then she heard voices. She buried her head into Max, her consciousness fading.

“Jilly! Jilly, where are you?” Andrew rushed through the hellacious smoke, calling her name. He grabbed her. “Oh my god. We have your mother outside. Is Max . . .?”

“I told you that you were wrong about Max,” she whispered. The room filled with jostling and shouting emergency personnel. Jill closed her eyes and prayed she would wake up, not at all sure that prayer would be answered.

Dave Hart sat beside Jill’s hospital bed.

She had been in intensive care for one night, and was now on day three of rehab due to smoke inhalation and shock.

“Hi, Dave.” Her voice was scratchy and hoarse.

“Hey, kiddo.” Dave patted her hand. “How you feeling?”

“Pretty good, I guess,” she said. “How’s Carly?”

Dave’s face darkened. “She’s shattered. It’s going to take quite a while before she’s able to accept everything that’s happened.”

Jill’s swollen eyes teared up. “I honestly cannot imagine how she will get through this, but please send her my love. And tell her I’ll be here for her.”

“She’s coming to see you later today. She wants to be sure you’re alive.” Dave’s voice roughened. “And that you forgive her.”

Tears ran down her raw cheeks. “Oh, Dave, she didn’t do anything that needs to be forgiven.”

Dave hung his head. “She blames herself for being fooled, for bringing that man into all of our lives.”

“Oh, god, no, don’t let her do that. She met a man and fell in love. Who could have imagined what he really was?”

“Not me.” He cleared his throat, his face grimmer still. “And I should have. Anyway, we’ll help her get through this. She has that sweet baby. That will help.”

Jill nodded, overwhelmed at the thought of how Carly would have to one day explain the imposter to her daughter. “The police say my mother shot Peter Cullen.”

“That’s what it looks like.” Dave nodded. “She must have been in the hall closet, where you kept your dad’s gun. It’s a miracle she knew what to do with it.”

“It’s more a miracle that there was a bullet in it. I never loaded it after Max had it cleaned.”

“Max told the cops he checked it then and there wasn’t a bullet in the chamber. But there were three in the belt holding the holster. Your mom must have loaded one.” Dave shook his head. “How she remembered how to do that is beyond any of us.”

“Instinct.”

“That. Or maybe your dad was watching out for all of you.”

Jill sighed, not ready to believe in that theory, however lovely to contemplate. “The doctor asked her what happened, but she seems to not understand the question. But physically, at least, she’s doing well. She wasn’t exposed too much to the smoke.”

“I know.” Dave patted her hand. “I wanted to tell you that Detective Martin called. He said Max has been completely cleared of all the crimes he was charged with.”

“I heard. I spoke with Max briefly on the phone last night.” She looked away, remembering the awkward conversation. “He sounds terrible, like a two-pack-a-day smoker.”

“He’s going to be okay, too. Thanks to you and your mom.”

Jill turned to Dave. “He’s the one who saved us. Instead of leaving, flying back to Paris when he was released, he came to me. He nearly died defending us against Peter Cullen.”

“He’s quite a man.”

“He doesn’t see it that way.” She thought briefly of his words on the phone last night. “He blames himself for not telling me about what he was investigating, or about his suspicions about Hamilton.”

“Do you blame him?” Dave asked quietly.

“He should have trusted me. If he had, things may have turned out differently.” Jill shivered when she thought of how close they had both come to being killed.

Max was recuperating in a room on another floor, recovering from being nicked by a ricochet piece of the bullets Peter fired, as well as being stabbed twice by the knife he had first wielded against the madman.

“Max would have died from loss of blood if the bullet had hit him full force, Detective Martin said,” Dave offered. “It was a miracle he got away from Cullen.”

“Two miracles that night.” Jill sighed.

“Is your mom still in the hospital?” Dave asked.

“No. They took her back to Friend’s House today,” Jill said. “I think that’s the best place for her. My house is going to have to be repaired from the fire. No place for either of us for a while.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I think I’ll rent an apartment for a bit, stay close and supervise the work. I’m supposed to be released tomorrow. I need to go back to school this week, too.” Jill’s voice broke.

Dave sighed, looking older than his sixty years. “The police in London are searching for Hamilton Stewart’s body. I don’t know when Carly will be able to go back home.”

“Tell her I said she needs to take it one day at a time,” Jill murmured.

“You, too, Jill.”

She nodded.

Dave got up and kissed her cheek. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Thank you for everything, Dave.”

“Stay strong. And remember how much you’re loved. By many.”

Jill watched her best friend’s father leave with tears in her sore eyes. She didn’t feel loved today, she felt alone. She missed her mother.

And Carly.

And Max.

A knock sounded at the door and Max stuck his head in. His dark hair had been completely shaved off in the emergency room, and he was dressed in baggy hospital patient clothes. “Hey. I was hoping I would find you sleeping.” He had an envelope in his hand, and the wariness she had seen too many times before was in his eyes.

She blinked. He was the dearest sight she could imagine. “Sorry to disappoint you that I’m awake.” She nodded at the envelope. “You want to read it to me.”

“No.” Max walked to her bedside and put his hand gently on Jill’s shoulder. “You’re going home tomorrow, I hear.”

“Yes.” She ached to touch him, but sat completely still. She wondering what was in the envelope.

A farewell note. A goodbye.

She had not had one from him the last time they parted, fifteen years ago. Tears welled in her eyes and she touched her fingers to her eyelids to hide them. “When are they kicking you out?”

“Today, I think.”

“When are you flying back to France?”

“Tomorrow.”

She looked away. “I’m sure you can’t wait to see Olivia. Does she know what happened?”

“Her mother told her I had an accident. I’m going to talk to her about it when I see her. Tell her a little, but not too much of the details. Not yet, anyway.”

“That sounds like a good plan.”

His green eyes stared at her. “How are you holding up? Really?”

She rolled her shoulder and he dropped his hand. She took a breath. “My throat hurts, but I’m going to be fine. I need to go to physical therapy for a few weeks. Evidently one of my lungs is a bit damaged.”