Like Father Like Daughter (23 page)

“Damn right, you crazy fucking psycho!”

Merle slumped down against the kitchen counter and slid down onto the linoleum floor. He stared at me with eyes black as night.

“But…I love you…”

He fell over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. His body twitched once. Twice. His arms fell to his sides. Then stillness.

I slowly crept over to where he was lying, afraid he was going to pop back up the way they do in horror movies. But when I bent over him, it was obvious he was dead. His eyes stared back at me, but there was no life left in them. Just to make sure, I grabbed his hand and felt for a pulse. Nothing.

I had to call the police, but Merle had smashed my phone. My nearest neighbor was over a hundred yards down the road. I found my jeans and pulled them back on. My top was torn, but I didn’t care. I had no time to worry about appearances, so I flung open the door and ran down the sidewalk barefoot, holding my shirt together with one hand. I ran down the hot blacktop road as fast as I could until I finally reached my nearest neighbor.

I pounded on the front door with the bloody palm of my hand over and over without stopping until finally someone opened the door.

An elderly woman in a pink muumuu looked shocked when she saw me.

“Dear Lord, child. What happened to you?”

I had never taken the time to get to know our neighbors; Ryan and I liked the fact that we lived alone in our little neck of the woods. So I didn’t know her name. All I knew was that I was happy to see her.

“Please call 911. Ask for Detective Jim Dorne. Tell him it’s Libby Carter. Tell him…”

I swayed on my feet. Looking at the concerned expression on my kind neighbor’s face was the last thing I remember before I passed out in her arms.

Chapter 23

Two Months Later

I sat on the beach with my toes in the sand, Philippa Gregory’s latest Tudor novel in my hands—I’d had my fill of crime and horror. The sound of the waves crashing against the beach and the sun’s warmth made it hard to keep my eyes open. I placed my bookmark in the middle and closed the book, leaning my head back against the padding of the beach chair.
Ryan would have loved it here
, I thought. Ryan and I always said we’d move to the Outer Banks when we retired. I’d run a little bookstore while he took our pontoon out to let tourists catch glimpses of the dolphins as they bobbed in and out of the water.

But that would never happen. Ryan was gone. I was there all by myself and would be for as long as I needed to be. I needed time to think, time to heal. I still had money left from Ryan’s life insurance; the individual policy finally paid out once I was cleared of his murder, and I had used it to rent a little bungalow in Avon, North Carolina. I could live on it for a little while, but not forever. Eventually, I knew, I’d have to get back to gainful employment. But I’d had my fill of the legal world, so I thought perhaps I’d put my sleuthing skills to good use and get my PI license. Make a legitimate business out of catching cheating husbands and bond jumpers.

I had made my peace with everything that had transpired in July. I killed a man, but it was in self-defense. No charges were brought, and obviously, the charges against me for Ryan’s murder were dropped shortly after the events that unfolded in my house that night. Detective Dorne found all the evidence he needed to satisfy him and Gaines that Merle had killed both Ryan and Lindsey. They found the Rohypnol in his apartment, along with a very disturbing diary that recounted every single detail of what he’d done.

Thanks to my anonymous tip, Mike Thompson had been arrested for a sundry of felonies, including possession of an illegal weapon and many counts of possession of narcotics with intent to sell. But he was innocent of Ryan’s murder, as well as Lindsey’s. A small part of me felt guilty for having him arrested, but the other part hoped at least now maybe he would straighten his life up. It’s what Ryan would have wanted.

All of this happened thanks to my father. I hadn’t talked to him since the day I met with him in the prison. I couldn’t help but blame him for everything. Regardless of his intentions, he had set loose a mad man to watch over me, and that mad man had killed my husband. My magnanimous mother was still insisting I forgive him.

In fact, that morning, I had received a text from my mother begging me to go see my father. He had called nearly every day for the past two months. He wanted to see me, wanted to explain, insisted he had something to tell me.

As I sat there on the beach, I couldn’t help but wonder what else he could possibly have to say to me. But Mom swore it was important, and against all my better judgment, I decided I needed closure. I would go see my father one last time. Whatever he had to say to me, I’d listen, and then I’d tell him goodbye. Forever.

***

I boarded the plane from Charlotte to Lexington at seven a.m. a week later. The flight was a little over two hours, and thanks to last minute booking, I sat in a middle seat next to an obese man who stank of Cheetos and coffee. He talked nonstop about his mother and her arthritis, even when I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep.

We landed at Bluegrass Airport around nine thirty, and I stopped at the Starbucks kiosk on the way out for a double tall caramel macchiato. I had reserved a rental car, so I stopped by the Hertz desk and picked up the keys to a Volkswagen Jetta. The swarthy attendant with a thick Kentucky accent showed me to my little red sedan.

I plugged my phone charger into the USB port so I could play some of the tunes I had downloaded on my new iPhone. After moving to North Carolina, I had signed up for a new AT&T plan and changed my number. No one had it now unless I wanted them to—just Mom and my best friend Dani. I chose the
Mamma Mia
soundtrack and sang along to some of ABBA’s greatest hits as I drove along the highway toward Big Sandy Federal Penitentiary.

Since moving to the beach, I had finally found a form of happiness. I could sing again, laugh again. I missed Ryan. No matter what he did before he died, he didn’t deserve to die at Merle Jackson’s hands. I often thought fondly of our eight years together, and instead of crying, I tried to smile.

As for Lindsey, I couldn’t say I had completely forgiven her. As I had told Dr. Lange in our last visit together, it’s nearly impossible to forgive someone who doesn’t want your forgiveness. If she had been sorry and asked me to forgive her for what she’d done, it might have been easier. But I had come to terms with everything. Accepted it all and come to realize she was only human. A very fucked up and desperate human, but a human nonetheless. So I tried to let go of the anger. I even came to believe she didn’t deserve what happened to her, either. But she was dead now, and she had more than paid for her sins.

When I arrived at the prison, I went through the same routine I had been through the last time I had visited Randy. This time, I left my purse in the car and locked it, so I didn’t have to wait for the correctional officers to rummage through it. I made it through security pretty quickly and was ushered along with the other visitors into the brightly lit visiting room.

This time, Randy was one of the first prisoners who entered. They took the cuffs and leg shackles off and he ambled over to the same table I’d sat at the last time. I liked the window there, even though it was covered in crisscrossing metal bars. He sat down across from me and smiled.

“Libs.”

I sighed. “Elizabeth.”

“I know. I keep forgetting. I’m sorry, Elizabeth. How are you?”

“I’m great, actually. Can we get to the point, Randy? Mom said you’ve been calling almost every day. That you have something to tell me?”

“I do. But first, I wanted to say how happy I am you’ve been cleared of Ryan’s murder. Your mom says you’ve moved. Where to?”

“I’d rather not say.” Randy was the last person I wanted to know where I was living now after what happened with Merle.

“I understand. I do. Elizabeth, I just wanted to say how very sorry I am. About Merle. I had no idea…”

This is what I had prepared myself for. I knew he was going to apologize for Merle. Two months ago, I would have thrown his apology back in his face and told him to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine. But two months was a long time to think about things and put them into perspective. While I still blamed Randy for setting Merle loose, I knew he didn’t tell him to murder Ryan. Or to hurt me. Whatever monster Randy was, I did believe he cared about me in his own way and would never intentionally hurt me.

“I know, Randy. I forgive you.”

His eyes widened. “You…you forgive me?”

“Yes,” I answered. “For Merle, anyway. It has taken some time but I believe you had no idea what he was going to do. I’m not going to lie. At first, I thought you had told him to do it. But the police said his crazy journals proved he did it of his own psychotic will. He never even mentions you in the journals, other than to say how much he owed you. He truly thought by killing Ryan for me, he was repaying his debt to you. That, and, well, he was infatuated with me.”

“I’m so glad you believe me. I swear I had no idea how crazy he was. I really thought I was helping you. I know now how incredibly stupid and dangerous it was.”

I wanted to say “damn straight it was stupid!” But I was really trying to work on my emotions and forgiving my father, so I held my tongue. I had forgiven Ryan, made peace with the whole Lindsey thing, and now all that remained was to give my father the forgiveness he so desperately needed. It wouldn’t be easy, but I needed to do it not just for him, but for my own well-being.

“Just please don’t ever do anything like that again.”

“I won’t. You have my word. I wish I could be there for you, Elizabeth. But I’m so proud of you. Your mother says you’re doing really well for yourself.”

“I am. I’m happy now. I’ve moved on from everything that happened. I have a peace I never had before.”

“What about a job? Your mother says you’re not going to go back to paralegal work.”

“No, I think I’m burnt out on it. I’m tired of all the politics that come with working for big law firms. It was fun while it lasted, but I’m thinking of making a change.”

Why I was confiding all of this to Randy, I wasn’t sure. But other than Mom and Dani, I hadn’t really talked to anyone in over two months. Some of my former co-workers had reached out to me once they heard about the dropped charges, but I had no room in my life for fair-weather friends. Part of me liked it that way, but there was a small part of me that missed human companionship. I had never been alone. I always had Mom; then for eight wonderful years I had Ryan. Now I had no one.

“What are you thinking of doing?”

“You might laugh.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“I’m thinking of getting my PI license. I have the required Bachelor’s degree and almost sixteen years of experience in investigation as a paralegal. All I have to do is apply for my license in…” I almost said North Carolina, but caught myself, “…in my home state, and voila! I’ll be a licensed PI.”

His reaction was not what I expected. I thought, given how much he usually fawned over anything I ever did, he’d smile and say, “That’s great, Libs!” Instead, he sat back, crossed his arms, and nodded his head as if he was giving something serious thought.

“What’s the problem? I thought you’d be proud.”

“Oh, I am proud, Libs—I mean, Elizabeth. It’s just…if you become a private investigator…maybe you could help me.”

“Help you? How on earth could I help you? I’m not going to spy on people for you or do your dirty work, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He leaned forward and placed his palms on the table. “Your mom told you I had something to tell you, didn’t she?”

“Yes. But I thought you already told me. You apologized for Merle, and I’ve forgiven you—for that, at least.”

“Yes, that was part of it. But there’s something else. Something no one in this world knows. Something I’ve never told a soul and swore I never would. But now…”

“Now what? What’s changed? What makes you want to divulge this big secret all of a sudden? Whatever it is.”

“Because now I see hope. For the past twenty years, you wouldn’t even talk to me, let alone come visit me. You told me I was dead to you. But now, if there’s even the slightest chance that we could have any kind of relationship…”

“Randy, I said I forgave you for Merle, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to forgive you for, well, you know…”

“That’s the thing, kiddo. What if I told you that not everything you think you know is true? What if I told you there was more to the story?”

“You mean more to the story of how you killed at least nine women? What more could there possibly be?”

He leaned even closer and looked over his shoulder. The guards weren’t really paying much attention to us even though we were probably now physically closer than we were supposed to be. I leaned in too, out of nothing more than morbid curiosity.

“What if I told you I’m innocent?”

I sat back and shook my head. “Don’t do this, Randy. Please, don’t do this.”

“I’m not messing with you, Elizabeth. I’m truly asking you. What would you say if I told you I never killed any of those women?”

“I’d say you pled guilty in open court. You stood before the judge, before me, before Mom, and told us all how you strangled nine prostitutes because they were ‘abominations!’ That’s what I’d say.”

“Elizabeth, everything is not always as it seems. Let me ask you a question. When you were being prosecuted for Ryan’s murder, your mother said you were offered a plea deal. Did you not even consider it? Especially since you were facing the death penalty?”

He had a point. I
had
considered taking the deal. But I never had to make that choice because of the way everything happened that night.

“What are you saying, Randy?”

“I’m saying, Elizabeth, that I did not kill those women. I’ve never killed anyone in my life. And I want you to help get me out of here.”

THE END