Birthright (51 page)

“Ask yourself this: If your sister was given the choice today, who would it be? The people who conceived her, or the parents who raised her?”

There was conviction in her voice now. “Ask yourself that question, and think carefully before you continue with this. If you walk away, no one else has to know. No one else has to be put through the emotional turmoil. If you don't walk away, you won't be able to stop it. All those families torn apart. Just for your satisfaction.”

“All those families torn apart,” Lana said as she rose, “so Marcus Carlyle could make a profit from playing God.”

She handed Doug the phone. “Call the police.”

“My daughter.” Dorothy sprang to her feet. “You said I could call my daughter.”

“I lied,” Lana said, and took great personal satisfaction in shoving the woman back into the chair.

A
few hundred miles away, Callie scrambled out of a six-foot hole even as she clicked off her cell phone. It was temper that propelled her up and out, that had her lips peeling back from her teeth when she spotted Dory briskly crossing the field toward the cars and trucks parked on the side of the road.

She shot off in a sprint, cutting through the mounds, leaping over a stunned Digger by the kitchen midden.

It was his instinctive shout that had Dory whipping her head around. Their eyes met, one thudding heartbeat. Callie saw it then—the rage, the acknowledgment, the fear—then Dory broke into a run.

Through the buzzing in her ears, Callie could hear other shouts, a quick, surprised laugh, a blistering guitar riff from someone's radio. But all that was distant, down some long, parallel tunnel.

Her focus had fined down to one goal. She saw nothing but Dory. And she was gaining.

When Bob crossed Dory's path, he came into Callie's field of vision, his clipboard in his hand, his mouth moving
to the tune of whatever played in his headset. He went over like a tenpin, papers flying, as Dory rammed him.

Neither woman slowed pace. He was still flat out when Callie pumped her legs, flew over him and, using the momentum, plowed her body into Dory's.

The force sent them both sailing over buckets and tools, an airborne instant before they hit the ground with a jar of bones and a tangle of limbs.

There was a red haze in front of her eyes, a primal, violent beat in her blood. She heard someone screaming, but her own breath only grunted out as she used fists, feet, elbows, knees. They rolled over dirt, grappling, clawing. Something sharp dug hard into Callie's back, and her eyes watered with the bright pain as her hair was viciously yanked.

She scented blood, tasted it, then kicked in blind fury as she was lifted straight up into the air.

She couldn't separate the sounds that rose around her. She could see nothing but the woman on the ground, people gathering around her. She kicked back, hard, then went down again with a thud. Even with her arms pinned she fought to free herself so she could fall on Dory again.

“Stop it! Goddamn it, Callie, stop or I'm going to have to hurt you.”

“Let go of me. Let go! I'm not finished.”

“She is.” Jake tightened his hold, struggled to get his own wind back. “From the looks of it, I'd say you broke her nose.”

“What?” The mists were clearing. Her breath was in rags, her hands still fisted. But the wild rage began to level. Blood was spilling out of Dory's nose, and her right eye was already swollen. As Leo tried to mop up the damage, Dory moaned and wept.

“She's the one,” Callie panted out. “She's the one.”

“I got that part. If I let you go, are you going to jump her again?”

“No.” Callie sucked in a wheezing breath. “No.”

“Hell of a tackle, Dunbrook.” He loosened his hold but didn't release her. It took some maneuvering to shift
himself so that he crouched between her and Dory. After a brief study of her face, he winced. “Man, look at you. She landed a few.”

“I don't feel anything yet.”

“You will.”

“Move aside, Jake. I'm not going to hit her again, but I've got something to say to her.”

Cautious, he kept a hand on her shoulder, moved enough for her to lean past him.

“Shut up.” Though she looked directly at Dory as she spoke, everyone else dropped into silence. “The tackle was for Rosie.”

“You're crazy.” Still weeping, Dory held both hands up to her bruised face and rocked.

“The nose, that's for Bill. The black eye, we'll give that to Dolan.”

“You're crazy, you must be crazy.” On a pathetic sob, Dory held up her blood-smeared hands as if in plea to the rest of the team. “I don't know what she's talking about.”

“Any other damage,” Callie continued, “we'll just chalk up to you being a lying, murdering bitch. And what's to come is for what you helped do to my family.”

“I don't know what she's talking about. She attacked me. You all saw it. I need a doctor.”

“Jeez, Callie.” Frannie bit her lip and huddled behind Dory. “I mean, jeez. You just jumped on her and started punching. She's really hurt.”

“She killed Bill. And she put Rosie in the hospital.” Her hand snaked out, grabbed Dory by her torn shirt before anyone could stop her. “You're lucky Jake pulled me off.”

“Keep her away from me,” Dory pleaded as she cringed back. “She's lost her mind. I'm going to have you arrested.”

“We'll see who spends tonight in jail.”

“I think everybody should calm down. I think everybody should just calm down.” Bob raked his fingers through his messy hair. “That's what I think.”

“You're sure about this, Callie?” Leo demanded.

“Yeah, I'm sure. They've got your mother, Dory. But you know that already. It's all falling apart on you. It started
falling apart when Suzanne recognized me. You worked hard to keep it together. You killed to keep it together. But you're done now.”

“You don't know what you're talking about.”

“Well.” Leo let out a windy sigh as he got to his feet. “Let's call the police and sort this out.”

J
ake dabbed antiseptic on the claw marks along Callie's collarbone. He'd moved her away from the rest of the team, leaving them tending to Dory.

He glanced over his shoulder, noted that Bob was patting Dory's shoulder and Frannie offering her a cup of water. “She's smart, and she plays a good game. She's working on convincing everybody you went after her out of the blue.”

“It won't stick. Doug and Lana have Dorothy Spencer in Charlotte. That's enough of a connection to convince Hewitt to take her in for questioning.”

“She's not here alone.”

Callie hissed out a breath. Lana's call had wiped everything but Dory out of her mind. “I wasn't thinking. I just acted. But damn it, Jake, she would've gotten away. She was heading for the cars. She'd've been gone if I hadn't gone after her.”

“I'm not arguing with that. You stopped her; she had to be stopped. We can count on Doug and Lana to give the Charlotte cops the picture. We've got more pieces, and we'll put them together until we have the whole picture.”

“She ate meals with us. She cried over Bill, and after the trailer went up, she worked harder than anyone to clear the site.”

“And she'd have killed you if she could.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Now she's going to work all the angles. So we've got to be—”

“Calm and focused,” she finished. “I need to get up, move around before I'm stiff as a plank. Give me a hand?”

He helped her up, watched her take a few limping steps.
“Babe, you need a soak in hot water, a rubdown and some good drugs.”

“Oh boy, do I. But it can wait. Maybe you could call the troops in Charlotte, let them know we've got Dory under wraps.”

“Yeah, I'll take care of it. Stay away from her, Cal.” He noted the direction of her stone-cold gaze. “I mean it. The less you say to her, the less she knows. And the more you'll have to give the cops.”

“I hate when you're logical, rational and right.”

“Wow. I bet that hurt, too, didn't it?”

It made her smile, and curse as her lip throbbed. Then she squared her shoulders as she saw the sheriff's cruiser pull up. “Well, here we go.”

S
heriff Hewitt folded a piece of gum into his mouth. He kept his attention on the deputy who helped Dory into another cruiser for transportation to the ER.

“It's an interesting story, Dr. Dunbrook, but I can't arrest a woman for murder on your say-so.”

“It's more than my say-so. The dots are all there. You just have to connect them. She's Marcus Carlyle's daughter, by Dorothy McLain Spencer, who was his secretary. She lied about who she was.”

“Well now, she says not. Isn't denying the blood kin, just saying that she's who she says she is.”

“And didn't bother to mention it when Lana's office went up, when Bill was killed, when she knew that I was looking for Carlyle and anyone linked to him.”

He blew out a breath. “Says she didn't know about that.”

“That's just bullshit. Are you going to believe that she just happened to show up on this project? The daughter of the man who's responsible for kidnapping me just happens to join my team?”

“Fact is, you just happened to show up on this project. But I'm not saying I believe her.” He held up a hand before
Callie could explode. “There's a few too many coincidences to suit me, and she's one of them. That's a long way from charging her with killing that boy, or Ron Dolan. Can't even prove she was here when Dolan was killed. I'm going to be talking to her further. I'm going to be talking to the Charlotte police and the FBI. I'm going to do my job.”

He shifted his attention, studied her bruised face. “Might be a good idea if you let me do it, instead of trying to do it for me.”

“She was running.”

“I'm not saying she wasn't. She claims she was just stretching her legs when you jumped her. And your witnesses have conflicting observations on that. You ought to consider the fact I'm not charging you with assault.”

“You ought to consider the fact she decided to stretch her legs when her mother called from Charlotte to warn her she'd been found.”

“I'm going to check that out. Dr. Dunbrook, I don't tell you how to dig up this field. Don't tell me how to investigate a case. Best thing for you to do is go on back to the house, put some ice on that cheekbone there. Looks painful. I want everybody to stay where I can find them while I'm sorting this out.”

“Maybe you should find out if Dorothy Spencer's taken any trips to Woodsboro lately, because Dory didn't do all this alone.”

He pointed a finger at her. “Go on home, Dr. Dunbrook. I'll be in touch when there's something you need to know.”

She kicked a stone as he walked away. “Calm and focused, my ass.”

S
he soaked a symphony of bruises in the tub, took a Percocet and stewed. There had to be more that could be done, and she intended to do it.

She pulled on her baggiest pants and shirt, and though she cast a longing glance at the bed, she limped her way downstairs.

Conversation shut off like a turned tap when she walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator for a drink.

“Maybe you should have some tea. Ah, some herbal tea.” Frannie sprang to her feet, then just stood twisting her fingers together.

“We got any?”

“Yeah, I could make it for you. She was running,” Frannie burst out, then shot a defiant look at the others around the table. “She was. And if she hurt Bill and Rosie then I'm glad you kicked her ass.”

She stalked to the stove, grabbed a pot. She was sniffling as she filled it with water.

“Thanks, Frannie.” Callie turned as Jake came in. “I know everybody's upset and confused. I know everybody liked Dory. I liked her, too. But unless somebody wants to stand up and say they put Seconal in my jug, the Seconal that put Rosie in the hospital, that leaves Dory.”

“Cal says Dory did it.” Digger jerked his head in a nod. “Dory did it.”

“Yeah, but . . .” Bob shifted in his seat. “It's not right to turn on her like this. It isn't right to turn on one of our own.”

“She knocked you flat on your ass,” Digger reminded him.

“Well, yeah, but still.”

“Was she running?” Callie demanded.

“I guess. I don't know. I wasn't paying attention. Man, Callie, she was the one who called the ambulance for Rosie. And when Bill . . . when that happened, she fell to pieces.”

“She told Sonya Callie wanted her off the project.” Frannie blinked at tears as she set the pot on the stove. “You can ask her, ask Sonya. She said how Callie wanted her gone because she thought she was fooling around with Jake, and how Callie's jealous of every other woman on the project, and she was just waiting for a chance to kick her off.”

“Christ.” Matt rubbed his face. “That doesn't mean anything. That's just girl shit. Look, I don't know what's going
on. I don't think I want to. I just can't see that Dory had anything to do with Bill. I just can't see it.”

“You don't have to.” Jake opened a bottle of water. “I just got off the phone with Lana. She and Doug just landed at Dulles. The FBI is questioning Dorothy Spencer. And they're sending an agent here to talk to her daughter. Could be they can see it.”

C
allie took her tea into Jake's office, sat down, and looked at the time line of her life.

“One of those events changes, everything that follows is affected.” Knowing Jake was in the doorway, she sipped at the tea, kept studying the chart. “I still haven't figured out if I'd alter any of the events if I had the choice. If I didn't break my arm, maybe I wouldn't have spent so much time reading all those books on archaeology. If I hadn't booted you out the door, maybe we wouldn't be working on patching things up. If I hadn't turned down the dig in Cornwall to take that sabbatical, I wouldn't have been available for this one. Suzanne Cullen might never have seen me, recognized me. Bill would be alive, but everything Carlyle did would still be buried.”