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Authors: Marta Tandori

Too Little, Too Late (38 page)

BOOK: Too Little, Too Late
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Liz nodded. “Got it.”

Eve impulsively hugged Liz. “Thank you.” Without waiting for her reply, Eve nodded to Paul. He pressed the door opener for the shed so Eve could maneuver the cart out. After a few failed attempts, she managed to figure out how the tiny gears worked and the cart was soon heading towards the south end of the property.

“Let’s go!” He and Liz sprinted across the lawn. When they reached the kitchen door, Paul looked at the doggie door doubtfully. “It’s going to be a tight squeeze.”

“Just how tight, we’ll have to see,” Liz remarked as she got on her knees in front of the small hatch door.

“Wait!” Paul snuck his way over to the large kitchen window and peeked inside. There was no sign of life. “Okay, now!”

Liz lifted the hatch to the doggie door and slid in, feet first. When she was hip level, she became stuck.

Paul frowned, quickly assessing the problem. “Rotate your hips and slide in diagonally.”

Liz nodded, managing to slip inside. Once inside the kitchen, she glanced around nervously. There was no sign of life. Seeing the keypad exactly where Paul said it would be, she punched in the code with shaking fingers. The screen display went from “alarmed” to “alarm de-activated”. Breathing a sigh of relief, she quickly opened the kitchen door to let Paul in and pressed the button to open the main gate. Hopefully, Otis would have already alerted the task force.

Paul gave her a nod of approval. “Nice job.”

“Now what?” she asked.

“Now you find Eve and the two of you get the hell out of here,” he told her.

“I’m not leaving,” Liz told him, crossing her arms over her chest.

Grabbing hold of her elbow in exasperation, he pulled her through the kitchen. “Come on, then. We’ve got little time to waste.”

***

As Leo was about to leave the room, one of the screens monitoring the south quadrant caught his attention. Going in for a closer look, he shoved the dead security guard off the chair and sat down. Staring closely at the screen, he didn’t see anything. He tried to ignore the throbbing in his brain. His mind was probably playing tricks on him. About to turn, Leo saw it again. It was a golf cart, careening around the lawn, without a driver. He clutched his head in his hands.

“I know what you’re up to, Father, but it won’t work!”

You are my son.
 

Tears coursed down his cheeks. “Not for much longer!” he yelled at the screen. “There will soon be salvation for this sinner.”

He stood up, his body swaying as he stared at the careening golf cart. His father was trying to exert his power over him but this time, he wouldn’t allow it. The time for his salvation had arrived.

***

Paul tried to shield Liz’s eyes from the gruesome sight of the dead security guard when they went inside the monitoring room but he wasn’t fast enough. Her scream was muffled by his chest.

“Is he dead?” she whispered.

Going over to the guard, he put a finger on the guard’s neck, in search of a pulse. As he had suspected, there was none. The huge knife sticking out of his back had made sure of it. He shook his head.

Liz pointed to one of the monitors. The golf cart was careening wildly as it wove its way across the south lawn. A few seconds later, another monitor claimed their attention. It showed the main gate, now open. The task force was heading towards the front door.

“Let’s go,” he told Liz grimly. “There’s nothing more we can do for him.

***

The staircase at the end of the hallway drew her like a magnet and although Kate was tempted, she looked for an alternate escape route. Instead, she turned towards the wide doorway to her right, pushing open the pocket doors to reveal the screening room, complete with an old-fashioned popcorn maker in the corner. Frantically, she sought for places to hide but there weren’t any. She tried the projection room door but it was locked. That meant the only way out was up the stairs.

Looking down at the baby, Kate noticed he looked a little blue around the lips and his breathing had become labored. His face was unnaturally cool to the touch, which worried her. She wrapped the old dish towel more tightly around his tiny body, determined to get him to safety. Making her way to the staircase, Kate glanced at the winding stairs. Leo was nowhere in sight. Grasping the banister, she pulled herself up, one stair at a time, keeping the baby as well as the paddle close to her body. She held her breath, hoping the stairs wouldn’t creak, giving her away. At the top of the landing, she saw the painting and recognition immediately dawned on Kate. She was inside the Swanson Estate.

***

He saw Kate reflected in the beveled glass of the French door. She had the baby with her.
His
baby. She had no right to take that baby away from him.

There will be no salvation for you, son.
 

“Shut up, Father!” he whispered, shaking his head to rid himself of his father’s voice. “My soul will be pure.”

Never!
 

“Once I’ve been anointed with the newborn’s blood, I shall have won, Father.”

The thought of his imminent salvation propelled him forward. With lightning speed, he tore through the living room, the kitchen knife clutched in his hand. His one arm came around Kate’s neck, while the other pointed the tip of the blade against the other side of her exposed neck.

“You stupid bitch!” he hissed. “You can’t get away from me!”

***

The force of his body almost caused Kate to drop the baby but at least the baby had whimpered. It meant he was still alive.

“Please, Leo,” she begged. “The baby’s sick. He’s got to get to a hospital.”

“Don’t worry, Sister Kate,” he reassured her. “The baby will soon be with God.”

He was crazy. Kate was convinced of it. The soulless eyes that stared at her were insane. And to make matters worse, the baby was quiet again. Her foot felt around for the paddle that had been knocked from underneath her. Out of the corner of her eye, Kate saw that it had skidded across the hardwood floor. Blackness threatened to overtake her vision and the pressure of the knife tip against her throat increased. Kate closed her eyes, hoping she would lose consciousness before he plunged the knife into her throat.

***

Paul grabbed Leo from behind, trying to loosen Leo’s grip on the knife against Kate’s throat. The knife clattered to the floor and Kate slid down after it, still hanging on to the baby.

“Grab the knife!” Paul yelled to Liz, as he and Leo struggled. Although Paul was taller than his adversary, Leo had the speed and agility of a younger man.

Liz was trying to pull Kate and the baby out of harm’s way. “I don’t see it!” Frantically searching the floor, she saw that the knife had slid underneath an armoire. It was just out of reach. Spying Kate’s paddle, she grabbed it and used it to get at the knife.

“Liz, watch out!”

Paul’s warning came too late. Liz felt her body being lifted and twisted like a rag doll until she was lying on her back with Leo on top of her. Very briefly, their eyes met and fused. Recognition in his. Shock in hers.

“You were never mine!” he screamed.

“No!” As his hand reared back to strike her, Liz plunged the knife deep into his chest.

By the time the task force made their way inside with a frantic Eve on their heels, it was all over. Leo Bauer’s salvation had been immediate.

CHAPTER 45

Irving Johnson’s car was spotted by a motorist on the San Diego Freeway. The motorist contacted a local news station who in turn contacted the authorities. Soon, there were several choppers in the air, faithfully videotaping Irving’s attempted exodus from the United States. The story of his brother’s death and Irving’s flight from L.A. were documented by news stations around the world and CNN’s coverage of the story was ongoing. By the time Irving Johnson was finally arrested trying to enter Tijuana, every working television in most department stores and retail stores across America were tuned in to the developing story. This was the hottest thing to hit L.A. since O.J.’s famous ride in the white Bronco back in the nineties.

While L.A. prepared for the trial of the century, Irving continued to profess his innocence, although the prosecutor’s office wasn’t buying into it. It wasn’t long before someone from the prosecutor’s office leaked to the media that their star witness was going to be none other than Irving’s soon to be ex-wife, who coincidentally happened to have been previously married to his dead brother. Olivia Johnson’s very powerful and very high-priced defense attorney had arranged for her to testify for the state in exchange for immunity, while her divorce attorney, James Pontano, Esquire of the Law Offices of Pontano, Rosenberg, Felder & Copps P.C. had assured her she’d come out of her divorce a very rich woman. Revenge was certainly bittersweet.

***

Sigourney Krantz Johnson was spared from learning the fate of her two sons. When Detectives Warner and Cassidy arrived at the Foundation to arrest her, they found her already dead. Her oxygen had been shut off and the tube that carried the oxygen to her nose had been placed carefully on top of it. Dickie’s body was lying alongside hers, clutching her hand. The empty pill bottle beside her bed bore testament to his suicide. The note under the pill bottle put the whole tragic event into perspective. It was written in her husband’s shaky scrawl and got straight to the point. “Peace at last.” Neither detective could argue with that.

***

Karen was still trying to get her head around everything that had happened recently. Her mother was okay, her dad and Brooke now had a baby boy, her grandmother was on the mend and it looked like she and this Paul guy had a permanent case of the hots for each other. Even more amazing was the fact that the crazy woman whose death she’d witnessed had actually been her aunt, which made Liz her cousin. Now
that
took some getting used to!

She pulled up in front of Liz’s apartment building. Liz was already waiting for her in the lobby.

“Hey,” she managed by way of greeting.

“Hey yourself,” Liz responded nervously. “How’s your shoulder?”

“A couple more rounds of physio and I should be as good as new,” Karen replied. She looked at Liz with approval. “Your hair looks good.”

“Thanks,” she replied. “I get tired of wearing it down all the time.”

“Have you ever thought of wearing it in a French braid?”

Liz shook her head. “I don’t know how to do a French braid.”

“I do,” Karen announced. “Turn around.”

“We can’t do it here, in the lobby!” Liz looked mortified.

“Okay,” Karen compromised, “then we’ll do it in the parking lot.” Without further ado, she grabbed Liz by the hand and led her out the parking lot. Pushing Liz onto the curb, Karen unraveled her hair.

“I feel ridiculous,” Liz muttered, glancing around furtively to make sure none of the other tenants saw them.

In what seemed like a matter of minutes, Karen was done. “You look amazing!” She rooted around in her purse for a mirror.

Between both of their mirrors, Liz was able to see the effect. “It actually
does
look good. Can you teach me to do that?”

“Sure.” She tried to act casual. “Do you think your boyfriend’s ever going to like me?”

“Otis isn’t my boyfriend,” Liz denied quickly.

“What’s
wrong
with you?” Karen asked, staring at her as if she was an idiot. “It’s obvious he’s nuts about you.”

“You think?” asked Liz, slipping on a pair of sunglasses.

“Oh my God, are you two blind or what?” Karen muttered under her breath.

“By the way, he thought you were a spoiled rich bitch.”

“What gave him
that
idea?”

Liz grimaced. “Anyway, I think he’s warming up to you, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

For the rest of the ride, Karen had this crazy grin plastered on her face.

***

Thanks to her ordeal, Kate had suffered a serious concussion and severe dehydration. She had also shattered her hip bone when she’d fallen to the floor and needed surgery to insert pins to hold her hip in place. Eve suspected that although her mother looked as though she was finally on the mend physically, the psychological scars would probably never heal.

They were closer than ever, if such a thing was possible. Her mother had finally opened up to her about the circumstances of her birth, the violent death of her own mother, her father and Irving’s rape, as well as the birth and death of Sonja.

“Did Dad know about Sonja?” Eve asked, gazing down at the new headstone marking the life and death of the sister she had never known. Kate had the old headstone replaced when Liz had suggested that her mother’s ashes be buried in Sonja’s burial plot.

Kate nodded. “Your father was one in a million, honey. He never judged me or thought any less of me.”

“And why should he?” cried Eve, giving her mother a quick hug. “Being raped by your own father was hardly your fault.”

“Maybe so,” Kate acquiesced, “but some men wouldn’t have looked at it that way.”

“Isn’t it about time you cut yourself some slack?”

“Maybe,” her mother conceded brusquely, “but when I think that after all this time, Sonja was still alive and probably reaching out to me—” Her voice broke. “And we’ll never know why she wanted the milk.” She looked at her daughter, horrified. “You don’t suppose she had another baby, do you?”

Eve was quick to reassure her. “Come on, Mom. It could’ve been for a stray kitten, for all we know.”

Kate nodded absentmindedly before slowly walking away from the gravesite.

Eve left her alone, choosing to sit on the small stone bench close by. Kate came back a few minutes later and began pulling the odd stray weed from around the headstone.

Eve finally voiced the question that had been bothering her for quite some time. “Mom, do you suppose Esther knew what Sigi had done?”

Kate slowly straightened up, careful not to put too much pressure on her damaged hip. “How could Esther have known? To my knowledge, Sigi certainly never talked about her former life and I never told anyone about Sonja except for your father and my old agent.”

BOOK: Too Little, Too Late
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