Sullivan's Justice (21 page)

The nightmares always ended abruptly. She had dreamed about the shooting again. When she awoke, all she remembered were disconnected fragments. She had even tried hypnotism. The psychiatrist told her the events of that night were buried so deep in her subconscious, they might never resurface.

After her father was sent to prison, the court had placed her with his brother’s family. When she accused her uncle of abusing her sexually, she was placed in a foster home in Manhattan. She ran away at fourteen. By fifteen, she was one of the top fashion models in the country. A twenty-nine-year-old man named Rees Jones had later become her surrogate father. He designed a line of high-end evening gowns. His fresh style and unique designs had made him a major player in the fashion industry. On her seventeenth birthday, she used a phony I.D. and they were married. Two years later, Rees was found dead in his bathroom. The death was ruled a suicide. His fortune fell into the hands of his beautiful young wife.

It wasn’t right that Neil and his sister had everything and she had nothing but money. Neil was supposed to be her fix. For the first time since her brother died, Melody had allowed herself to love another human being. She hadn’t loved Rees. She knew Rees had exploited her, using her face and body to promote his business. Because she was only seventeen, she wasn’t allowed to spend a penny without first getting approval from his accountant. She’d once asked for money to buy tampons. Rees told her to wait until Monday when the accountant returned to his office. The entire weekend, she’d had to stuff rags into her panties.

She was restricted from seeing her mother’s will until after her eighteenth birthday. When she found out how wealthy she was, she was furious she’d married Rees. The wedding was for show, anyway.

The wedding dress he had made for her carried a price tag of twenty thousand dollars. When he was diagnosed with AIDS, he’d killed himself. People like Rees thought they could cheat death. He’d never changed his will, so Melody happily added his fortune to her own.

If Neil would only stop wasting so much time with his painting and family, he would realize how much she needed him. He had to fill the void that her brother had left. She wasn’t going to let anything get between them, not even his sister.

Neil had been hysterical today. Playing the game too much longer would be dangerous. She’d have to provide him with an alibi. If not, she would lose him. Exposing herself in the process, though, was not an option. Carolyn was smart. If Melody wasn’t careful, she could end up in prison.

“I need more scotch!” she yelled, upset that she didn’t have live-in help anymore. The last woman had been too nosy. It was ironic. Her father had made all the servants leave every night at six, not wanting to expose them to her mother’s drunken rages. Now she did almost the same thing.

Melody sat back, her buttocks shifting on the leather chair. Her mind drifted to her former lover, the physics professor at Caltech. She wondered what he was doing on Christmas Eve. He hadn’t been at the Pasadena house for several months. Once she set up her system, it wasn’t worth the risk to take it down. Unless someone moved or stumbled across her transponder tucked away in the attic, her lovers would provide her with entertainment for the rest of their lives.

She normally saw darkness when she opened the view into his home. Her pulse quickened. There was an outline of two bodies in front of the fireplace. She knew he was dating Carolyn, but seeing it was different. She turned away, trying to prevent another emotional outburst. Her eyes were drawn back to the screen. It was similar to spectators slowing down on the freeway whenever an accident occurred. Even though they knew it would be disturbing if they saw dead or seriously injured people, they couldn’t stop themselves from looking.

She watched as Paul’s and Carolyn’s bodies moved together. It was almost as if she were watching them in slow motion. His touch was so gentle. Melody’s experience with him had been vastly different—satisfying, but rough and quick. What she was witnessing was real love. Her level of agitation escalated. Neil had made love to Laurel in the same manner. Melody’s sex partners didn’t treat her that way because they didn’t love her. No one had ever loved her, no one except Jeremy.

Paul Leighton had been her professor when she’d attended Caltech. He wasn’t handsome like Neil, but she hadn’t been attracted to him for his looks. To her disappointment, the affair had lasted only three weeks. Just long enough for Melody to set up her equipment and get some good video footage.

When she had shown up at Thanksgiving dinner at Carolyn’s house and seen Paul sitting at the table, she’d felt like strangling him. Taking him aside, she asked him why he’d stopped returning her calls. He had just shrugged and returned to the table. She endured the entire afternoon without revealing their relationship. Asshole.

Her hands clenched into fists, the veins in her forearm raising from the furious pumping of her blood. She slammed them down on the desk, causing the plasma screen to shake. Tonight of all nights, Paul was with Carolyn.

She turned away from the monitor. Moving to another view, she opened the window into Neil’s home. Getting no signal, she knew the police had found her router. All of this equipment would have to go immediately after Christmas. She was sure to have visitors from the police department in the near future.

Melody glanced back at the screen, displaying Paul’s Pasadena house. “Stop!” she screamed, seeing them still thrashing around.

It was time to take the bliss out of Carolyn’s little romance.

She opened a cabinet containing rows of CDs. Each one was labeled with a date and name. Finding the one that said Paul, she placed it into the CD drive. She then selected Carolyn’s e-mail from the list and attached the movie file. Messing with people’s heads helped chase away her demons. Why should they be happy when she was alone and miserable? She threw her head back and laughed, imagining Carolyn’s reaction. “The truth hurts, sweetie pie,” Melody said, pressing the send button.

 

 

 

 

 

P
aul dropped Carolyn off at her house around nine on Christmas morning. They’d called Isobel from the road and she’d told them Rebecca and Lucy were still asleep. Since John probably wouldn’t come home until lunchtime, Carolyn booted up her computer and checked her e-mail. Seeing a message from Melody Asher, she opened it.

Carolyn’s fingers were shaking so badly, she had trouble opening the attachment. When the video started, she knew instantly that it was Paul. He had a birthmark on his left shoulder. Watching the man she was in love with having sex with her brother’s girlfriend was sickening. She ran into the bathroom and threw up. After she rinsed her mouth out, she stared at her image in the mirror. “Fool,” she shouted, shattering the glass with her electric toothbrush. “How many women are there? How could I have been so stupid?”

The least Paul could have done was tell her he’d had an affair with Melody. They’d sat across from each other at Thanksgiving. The video must have been made a few years ago, as Paul was thinner and his hair shorter. While he was on sabbatical from Caltech, supposedly to focus on the physics book he was writing, he’d let his hair grow several inches below his ears.

Carolyn placed a hand on her forehead, feeling her pulse pounding through her veins. She’d never liked Melody, but she hadn’t perceived her as evil. How could she have done something this cruel, particularly on Christmas?

What was she thinking? What was her motive? It certainly wouldn’t cause Paul to come running back, if that’s what she wanted. When he found out, he’d be furious. This had nothing to do with Paul, Carolyn decided. Melody had sent the video as a direct attack on her. “Why?” she cried out. “What have I ever done to make you hate me? Are you a murderer? Did you kill Laurel?”

Everything came clear. Melody Asher was out to destroy Neil’s life by killing those that he loved. Was Carolyn next on her list?

She went to her bedroom and called Paul. “I have to see you.”

“I just got out of the shower,” he said. “What’s wrong? You sound upset. Did something happen with Neil?”

“No,” Carolyn said flatly. “Come over right now.”

 

 

Paul had no idea what was wrong with Carolyn. The night before had been wonderful, one of the best Christmases he’d ever had. Lucy adored her, and he had become extremely fond of Rebecca and John. Lucy had always wanted a big brother, someone to look after her.

After his divorce, he’d looked for a woman like Carolyn—intelligent, courageous, attractive, as well as someone he respected enough to care for his daughter. He’d already charted their future. As soon as his book was finished, they’d get married and move into the Pasadena house. His father had left him some money. His investments had tripled during the past five years, so there was no need for Carolyn to continue working. He paid Isobel only a few dollars less than what Carolyn earned as a probation officer. Besides, the job was dangerous. A vicious criminal had tried to kill her the year before. If Brad hadn’t gone to the jail to interview Raphael Moreno, Carolyn might have been in the hospital instead of him.

He threw on a pair of jeans and a green sweater, then peeked in on Rebecca and Lucy. Lucy had changed so much, he had to remind himself that she was his daughter. She was tall and lanky like her mother. Her straight blond hair reached the center of her back. His little girl had disappeared, replaced with the blossoming body of a young woman. Boys had already started calling. At present, Lucy had no interest in the opposite sex. He knew that would change. The image of his precious daughter walking out the door with a guy who wanted to jump her bones was terrifying. Maybe he could send her to an all-girl boarding school.

Isobel was curled up on the sofa reading. “I’ll be at Carolyn’s. Call me when the kids wake up.”

“Don’t expect another big meal,” the housekeeper told him. “I’m taking the day off, remember? There’s plenty of leftovers in the refrigerator. If you want something else, you’ll have to go to a restaurant.”

“You’re tough, Isobel,” Paul said, walking over and kissing her on the cheek. “By the way, Merry Christmas. Did you like the robe I got you?”

“I’m wearing it, aren’t I?” she said, glancing down at her feet. “I needed a new pair of slippers. You did pretty good this year, though. Last year you bought me a set of pots and pans. Why do I need more pots and pans? I have enough stuff to scrub.” Isobel looked at the expression on his face and laughed. “Come over here and give me a kiss. You might be the genius, but I can always pull one over on you.”

Paul walked over and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Isobel. You know that, don’t you? All you have to do is ask, and I’ll buy you anything you want.”

Isobel grabbed his head and pulled it down, planting a wet kiss on his forehead. “You already have,” she joked. “This little house is a perfect retirement home. Just be sure to put the deed in my name when you move back to Pasadena.”

“You—you can’t retire now, Isobel,” Paul stammered. “How could we get by without you? You promised you’d stay with us until Lucy goes to college.”

“I’m not going anywhere now,” Isobel told him with a laugh. “You’re not getting rid of me that fast.” She pushed her glasses back on her nose. “Run along so I can finish this book. You should be thinking about the same thing. When are you going to finish that book you’re supposed to be writing? I haven’t seen a lot of work going on lately, just a lot of loving.”

Paul walked the short distance to Carolyn’s house. Isobel was right. He had become so engrossed in Carolyn’s life, he had forgotten about his own. He patted down his hair, then rang the doorbell.

“Get in here,” Carolyn snapped, yanking him by the arm.

“What the hell—”

She shoved him in the center of the back, not stopping until he reached her desk in the kitchen. “Sit,” she said, pushing down on his shoulders. “This is what I had to see on Christmas, a gift from your former girlfriend Melody Asher.”

“Oh,” Paul said, frowning. “She told you, I presume. I was going to tell you. It was several years ago, Carolyn. I thought about it and decided to keep quiet. I mean, she was dating your brother.”

“She didn’t tell me anything,” Carolyn said, pacing. Leaning over him, she double-clicked her mouse and the video began playing.

The blood drained from Paul’s face. “Jesus, the woman’s insane. I didn’t give her permission to film me. We only had sex a few times. She came on to me. She even made up a story, offering to make me dinner if I helped her with a problem. Physics is difficult, you know.”

“Difficult, huh?” Carolyn said, her blood boiling. “It doesn’t look like she’s having any difficulty here, Paul. How many other students did you sleep with? What are you doing, hiding out here in Ventura? What do you think I am, just someone to screw while the dust settles at Caltech?”

“Stop, Carolyn,” he said, raising a palm. “We were both adults. Sure, it doesn’t look good for a professor to date a student. I didn’t think of Melody as a student. She was auditing my class without credit. I gave her a grade because I thought she had potential.”

“I bet she did,” she said, pouring a glass of water from the faucet and gulping it down. “Looks like she has lots of potential, Paul. As a porn star.”

“I don’t have to listen to this,” he said, standing to leave. “I love you, Carolyn, but I don’t deserve to be raked over the coals for something I did years before I even met you.”

Carolyn realized she was being irrational, but she couldn’t stop herself. Seeing the man she loved in bed with another woman was devastating, and Melody was years younger and far more attractive. The video had stopped playing, but the last image was still on the screen. It was the same blanket! “Damn you, what you said last night about a student giving you the blanket was true. Did you give Melody an A, like you said? What other lies have you told me?”