If you’re around here in an hour, you won’t be owning it anymore, Ned thought. He wondered if this guy was the same one who was here last night—not the boyfriend, the other one. Could be, he decided. They were about the same size.
Today Ned could again see Annie standing near him. She was stretching out her hand to him. She knew that soon he was coming to her. “It won’t be long, Annie,” he whispered. “Just give me a couple of hours, okay?”
His head hurt, in part because he’d finished the bottle of scotch, but some of the discomfort was due to the fact that he hadn’t yet figured out how he was going to get to the cemetery. He couldn’t take the Toyota—the cops everywhere were looking for it. And Lynn Spencer’s car was too flashy—people would notice it.
He watched as the guy walked up to the house and knocked at the door. Lynn Spencer opened it for him. Ned decided the guy was probably a neighbor who had walked over to see her. Whichever way, he either knew the code to open the service gate or she had opened it from the house.
Twenty minutes later, at ten of three, a car drove in through the front driveway and parked in front of the guest house.
Ned watched as a young woman got out of the car. He recognized her right away—it was Carley DeCarlo. She had arrived right on time, maybe even a little early. Everything was going to happen just the way he had planned.
Only that new guy was still inside. Too bad for him.
DeCarlo was dressed up as if she was going to a party, Ned thought. She was wearing a pretty suit, the kind he would have liked to buy Annie.
DeCarlo could afford clothes like that. But, of course, she was one of them—the cheats taking everybody’s money, breaking Annie’s heart and then telling the world, “I didn’t have a thing to do with it. I’m a victim, too.”
Sure you are! That’s why you drive up in a sportylooking, dark green Acura, wearing a fancy outfit that cost a ton of money.
Annie had always said that if they ever could afford a new car, she’d want it to be dark green. “Think about it, Ned. Black can be kind of dreary, and a lot of the dark blue cars look as though they’re black, so what’s the difference? But dark green—looks really classy and still has some punch to it. So when you win the lottery, Ned, you just march yourself out and buy me a dark green car.”
“Annie, honey, I never bought you one, but I’ll be driving to meet you today in a dark green car,” Ned said. “Okay?”
“Oh, Ned.” He heard her laugh. She was close by. He felt her kiss. He felt her rub the back of his neck the way she used to do when he was all uptight about something, like having a run-in with somebody at work.
He had left the rifle leaning against a tree. Now he retrieved it and began to calculate the best way to proceed. He wanted to get inside the house. That way there’d be less chance that the shots would be heard from the road.
Getting down on all fours, he crept along the shrubbery line until he was at the side of the house, under the window of the TV room. Today the door leading to the living room was almost closed, so he couldn’t see inside. But he could see the guy who had just come up the driveway. He was in the TV room, standing behind the door.
“I don’t think Carley DeCarlo knows he’s here,” Annie said. “I wonder why.”
“Why don’t we find out,” Ned suggested. “I have a key for the kitchen door. Let’s go inside.”
FIFTY-TWO
Lynn really is a beautiful woman. She usually wore her hair swept back in a French knot, but today she had allowed tendrils to fall around her face, splashes of golden blond that softened the iciness of her cobalt blue eyes. She was wearing perfectly tailored white silk slacks and a white silk blouse. My concern about looking too festive for our serious discussion certainly was not shared by her. Her jewelry included a narrow gold necklace sprinkled with diamonds, diamond and gold earrings, and the solitaire diamond ring I had noticed at the shareholders’ meeting.
I complimented her on her appearance, and she said something about having cocktails at a neighbor’s house later. I followed her into the living room. I’d been in this room only last week, but I had no intention of telling her that. I was sure she would resent my visit to Manuel and Rosa Gomez.
She sat on the couch, reclining just enough to suggest that this was going to be a relaxed social exchange, body English that told me I was in for a hard time. I certainly didn’t want anything to drink, even water, but her failure to make even a token offer of hospitality was, I thought, my message to say my piece and get out.
Your call, I thought, and took a deep breath. “Lynn, this isn’t going to be easy, and, frankly, the only reason I’m here and trying to help you is that my mother is married to your father.”
Her eyes fastened on me, and she nodded. We’re in agreement, I thought, and I continued. “I know we don’t like each other very much, and that’s fine, but you used our family connection—if you can call it that—to make me your mouthpiece. You were the sad widow who had no idea what her husband was up to, you were the stepmother who yearned for her stepson. You were out of a job, friendless, just about broke. It was all a lie, wasn’t it?”
“Was it, Carley?” she asked politely.
“I think it was. You didn’t give a damn about Nick Spencer. The one honest thing you said was that he married you because you resembled his first wife. I believe that’s true. But, Lynn, I’m here to warn you. There’s going to be a criminal investigation into why the vaccine suddenly developed problems. I happen to know that the vaccine works—I saw living proof of that myself yesterday. I saw a man who, three months ago, was at death’s door, and now he is one hundred percent cancer free.”
“You’re lying,” she snapped.
“No, I’m not. But I’m not here to talk about that man now. I’m here to tell you that we know Vivian Powers was kidnapped and probably given mindaltering drugs.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“No, it isn’t, and neither is the fact that Nick’s father’s files were stolen from Dr. Broderick, who was holding them for Nick. I’m pretty positive I know who it was who took them. I found his picture yesterday in a Garner Pharmaceuticals house organ. It was Lowell Drexel.”
“Lowell?” Her voice was nervous now.
“Dr. Broderick said it was a man with reddish brown hair who picked up the files. I guess the dye job was so good that he didn’t see it for what it was. The picture was taken last year before Drexel stopped coloring it. I intend to call the investigators and tell them about it. Dr. Broderick was almost killed by a hit-and-run driver, and that may not have been an accident. At least I don’t believe it was. He’s recovering, and he’ll be shown that picture. If, or maybe when, he identifies Drexel, the next thing the investigators are going to do is start looking into the plane crash. You were heard quarrelling with Nick in the coffee shop at the airport just before he took off. The waitress heard him ask you why you changed your mind at the last minute and didn’t join him on the flight. You’d better have some answers ready when the police come to see you.”
Lynn was visibly nervous now. “I was hoping to patch up our marriage—that’s why I said I would go with him in the first place. I told Nick that and asked him to take Jack with him on a trip some other time. He agreed, but very unhappily. Then he was brusque with me all day Friday, so by the time we were leaving for the airport, I decided to leave my suitcase home. I waited until we were in the car to tell him, which is why he exploded. It simply hadn’t occurred to me that he might run up and get Jack at the last minute.”
“That’s a pretty thin story,” I told her. “I’m trying to help you, but you’re making it difficult. You know what they’ll start to speculate about next? I’ll tell you. They’ll start to wonder whether or not you slipped something into Nick’s drink in that coffee shop. I’m starting to wonder about that myself.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
“Then start thinking about how serious your situation is. The investigators have been concentrating on
Nick, and it’s been your good fortune so far that they haven’t found his body. Once word gets out about the vaccine and they change that focus, you’re going to start to look pretty bad. So if you know anything about what was going on in the lab, or if you were tipped off not to get on that flight with Nick, then you’d better come forward now and cut a deal with the prosecutor.”
“Carley, I loved my husband very much. I wanted to patch up our marriage. You’re making all this up.”
“No, I’m not. That lunatic Ned Cooper, who just shot all those people, is the one who set the fire here. I’m sure of it. He saw someone leaving the house that night. He sent me e-mails about it, which I’ve turned over to the police. I think you’re involved with Wallingford, and when that revelation comes out, your alibi won’t hold water.”
“You think I’m involved with Charles?” She began to laugh, a nervous, high-pitched, mirthless sound. “Carley, I thought you were smarter than that. Charles is nothing but a weak-kneed crook who steals from his own company. He did it before, which is why his sons won’t talk to him, and he started doing it at Gen-stone when he realized that Nick was taking loans against his own stock. He decided to help himself by looting the medical-supply division.”
I stared at her. “Wallingford was allowed to steal! You knew he was stealing and did nothing about it?”
“It wasn’t her problem, Carley,” a deep male voice said.
The voice came from behind me. I gasped and jumped up. Lowell Drexel was standing in the doorway. He was holding a pistol.
“Sit down, Carley.” His voice was quiet, unemotional.
My knees were suddenly weak as I sank back into the chair and looked at Lynn for an explanation.
“I was hoping it wouldn’t go this far, Carley,” she said. “I’m really sorry, but . . .” Suddenly she was looking past me, toward the back of the room, and the contemptuous expression she’d worn an instant ago had transformed into a look of sheer horror.
I jerked my head around. Ned Cooper was standing in the dining area, his hair matted, his face covered with stubble, his clothes stained and wrinkled, his eyes wide, his pupils dilated. He was holding a rifle, and as I watched, he shifted it a hairbreadth and pulled the trigger.
The sharp cracking sound, the smell of acrid smoke, Lynn’s terrified scream, and the thud of Drexel’s body as it hit the hardwood floor assaulted my senses. Three! That was all I could think. Three in Greenwood Lake; three in this room. I’m going to die!
“Please,” Lynn was moaning, “please.”
“No. Why should you live?” he asked. “I’ve been listening. You’re dirt.”
He was aiming the rifle again. I buried my face in my hands.
“Plea—”
I heard the explosive sound again and smelled the smoke and knew that Lynn was dead. Now it was my turn. Now he’s going to kill me, I told myself, and waited for the impact of the bullet.
“Get up.” He was shaking my shoulder. “Come on. We’re taking your car. You’re a lucky girl. You get to live another half hour or so.”
I stumbled to my feet. I couldn’t look at the couch. I didn’t want to see Lynn’s body.
“Don’t forget your pocketbook,” he said with eerie calm.
It was on the floor next to the chair where I’d been sitting. I bent down and scooped it up. Then Cooper grabbed my arm and propelled me back through the dining area and into the kitchen. “Open the door, Carley,” he commanded.
He pulled it shut behind us and shoved me to the driver’s side of the car.
“Get in. You drive.”
He seemed to know I hadn’t locked the car. Had he been watching for me? I wondered. Oh, God, why did I come here? Why didn’t I take his threat seriously?
He walked around the front of the car, never taking his eyes off me and keeping his rifle at the ready. He got in the passenger seat. “Open your pocketbook and get out the keys.”
I fumbled with the catch. My fingers were numb. My whole body was trembling so much that when I did get the catch open and pulled out the keys, it was hard to fit the key into the ignition.
“Drive down this road. The number for the gate is 2808. Punch it in when we get there. When the gate opens, turn right. If there are any cops around, don’t try anything.”
“I won’t,” I whispered. I could barely form the words.
He leaned down so that his head wasn’t visible to anyone on the street. But when the gate opened and I drove out, there were no other cars on the road.
“Turn left up at the corner.”
When we passed the charred remains of the mansion, I saw a police car drive slowly by. I kept looking straight ahead. I knew Ned Cooper meant what he said: If they came near us, he’d kill them and me.
* * *
Cooper remained slumped in the seat, the rifle between his legs, speaking only to give directions. “Turn right here. Turn left here.” Then he said in a markedly different tone of voice, “It’s over, Annie. I’m on the way. Guess you’re glad, honey.”
Annie. His dead wife, I thought. He was talking to her as if she was in the car. Maybe if I tried to talk to him about her, if he saw I felt sorry for both of them, then I might have a chance. Maybe then he wouldn’t kill me. I wanted to live. I wanted to have a life with Casey. I wanted another child.
“Turn left here, then drive straight for a while.”
He was avoiding main roads, anyplace there was likely to be police looking for him.
“All right, Ned,” I responded. My voice was trembling so much that I bit my lip to try to get control of it. “I heard people talking about Annie on the television yesterday. Everybody said they loved her.”
“You didn’t answer her letter.”
“Ned, sometimes, if I get the same question from a lot of people, I do answer the letter, but I don’t use one particular name because that wouldn’t be fair to all the others. I bet I answered Annie’s question even though I didn’t use her name.”
“I don’t know.”
“Ned, I bought stock in Gen-stone, too, and I lost money, just like you. That’s why I’m writing a story for the magazine, to let everybody know about people like us who got cheated. I know how much you wanted to give Annie a nice big home. The money I used to buy the stock was money I had been saving for an apartment. I live in a rented place that’s really small, just like the one you lived in.”
Was he listening? I wondered. I couldn’t tell.
My cell phone rang. It was in my purse which was still lying in my lap.
“Someone supposed to call you?”
“That’s probably my boyfriend. I’m supposed to meet him.”
“Pick it up. Tell him you’ll be late.”
It was Casey. “Everything okay, Carley?”
“Yes. I’ll tell you about it.”
“How long before you get here?”
“Oh, about twenty minutes.”
“Twenty minutes?”
“I just started.” How could I let him know I needed help? “Tell everybody that I’m on my way,” I said. “It’s good to know I’ll be seeing Patrick soon.”
Cooper took the phone out of my hand. He pushed the end button and dropped it on the seat. “You’ll be seeing Annie soon, not Patrick.”
“Ned, where are we going?”
“To the cemetery. To be with Annie.”
“Where is the cemetery, Ned?”
“Yonkers.”
Yonkers was less than a ten-minute drive from where we were.
Did Casey understand that I needed him? I wondered. Would he call the police and tell them to be on the lookout for my car? But even if they saw it and followed us, it would only mean that some of them would be killed, too.
I was now sure that Ned Cooper was planning to kill himself in the cemetery, after he killed me. The only way I could hope to survive was if he decided to let me live. To do that I had to get his sympathy. “Ned, I think that it’s a shame all the terrible things they said about you on the telev
ision yesterday. It wasn’t fair.”
“Annie, hear that? She doesn’t think it’s fair, either. They don’t know what it was like for you to lose your house, all because I believed their lies. They don’t know how it felt for me to see you die when that garbage truck hit your car. They don’t know that those people you were so nice to all the time didn’t want you to know that I was going to sell the house to them. They didn’t like me, so they wanted us both to go away.”
“I’d like to write about all that, Ned,” I said. I tried to keep from sounding as if I was pleading. It wasn’t easy.
We drove through Yonkers. There was a lot of traffic, and Cooper slumped lower in the seat.
“I’d like to write about Annie’s beautiful gardens, how she planted a new one every year,” I continued.
“Keep driving straight. We’re almost there.”
“And I’ll let everyone know that the patients loved her at the hospital. I’ll write about how much she loved you.”
The traffic had thinned out. On the right, down the block, I saw a cemetery. “I’ll call it ‘Annie’s Story,’ Ned.”
“Turn into that dirt road. It goes through the cemetery. I’ll tell you when to stop.” There was no discernible emotion in his voice.
“Annie,” I said, “I know you can hear me. Why don’t you tell Ned that it’s better if you two are alone together, and that I should go home and write about you and tell everyone how much you and Ned loved each other. You don’t want me to be in the way when you finally get your arms around Ned, do you?”
He didn’t seem to be listening. “Stop here and get out of the car,” he commanded.
Ned made me walk ahead of him to a grave that was still freshly dug and covered with mud. The ground had begun to settle, and there was a depression in the middle.