The Fallen Angels Book Club (29 page)

“Isn't it beautiful?” He blocked my view.

I walked over and barely leaned into the narrow passageway. “What?”

“The woodwork. Look at this.” He pointed toward some unseen object.

“Oh, yeah, it's nice.” I edged backward and turned to go. The vibrator went off on my phone. Automatically, I slapped at my pocket. It seemed like minutes before the last quiet rumble died off.

I thought Avery paused, and for a moment, I was sure he must have heard the noise. He didn't turn around. He began looking through what appeared to be the silverware drawer. I exhaled.

“Well, I'm going to start going through the upstairs rooms. I promised Lily I'd look for her hand mirror and brush.” As nonchalantly as I could, I eased back into the main hallway. I tried not to glance toward the front door.

He followed. “You know, don't you?” He came around me and blocked the stairs. We weren't close enough to touch, but the look in his eyes was enough to hold me in place.

I would have to talk my way out of here. Avery was no fool, and I was pretty sure he'd already killed three people. Sliding my hand into my pocket, I felt the metal of my cellphone. I couldn't remember if I'd dialed directory information or Mark last. I prayed it was Mark as I carefully flipped open the phone.

“No, really, I really don't know.” Then I shook my head. I'd had enough with pretending. Lying now would not help me stay alive. I leaned against the stairway post. “What happened to you?”

Avery turned away from me and then he looked back with resolve. A little moisture gathered in his deep green eyes. “What happened? Life happened. One day I was preparing the estate papers for a wealthy, elderly widower in Half Moon Bay. His wife had died and left a sizable sum of money and real estate. I noticed the appraiser's inventory had a couple of value errors. Also, the insurance binder had special sections that didn't seem to mesh with the items I knew.”

I was afraid to say anything. He wasn't looking at me anymore. His eyes were searching out the past. Still, he blocked any run I might make for the front door. I tried to clear my head to think, but the heat was unbearable. Avery looked cool as an ice cube.

He held out his arms as if pleading for understanding. “I called the appraiser on it immediately. He wasn't our usual contractor, but he had good references. At first he said I had it wrong, that the market value was volatile. Then he let me know the percentage margin was small, even though the dollar difference was substantial.”

“I don't understand.”

Avery looked down at Lily's inventory list. “Let's say the personal and real property is worth one million dollars, but it gets appraised for five million. The insurance carrier would be informed to verify the assets and make sure they were protected. The firm gets five to ten percent of the appraised value to cover our costs to close out the estate, or to establish the estate's worth.”

“Not the firm—you.”

Avery slowly turned his head to look at me. He gave me a nod. “True. Triple D's partners have a generous arrangement regarding trusts, wills and estate planning. It's not as lucrative as litigation, but I keep a bulk of the percentage.”

I edged toward one of the lower steps and sat down. I couldn't stand any longer. Sadness weighed on my chest. “You started signing off on inflated appraisals.” I sighed. “Was it for the money?”

He ran a hand behind his neck. “It's always for the money.”

“Rory was the appraiser, wasn't he?” Through my haze, I was able to put the final pieces together. “You killed him because he blackmailed you. You faced the loss of your lifestyle and career. Was the third person, the insurance link … was it Bill Lynley?”

“Your one and only.” Avery looked down at his watch.

I had to distract him. Slowly standing, I reached for the notebook pad and pretended interest in the inventory listing. “Why did you give me a job? You knew I had a prison record.”

“Bill asked me. He didn't want you to know he was behind it.”

“He got me the job at Triple D?”

Avery raised his eyebrow and gave me a look I couldn't read. “Call it insurance. At first, Rory didn't know about you and Bill. Somewhere along the way, he and your ex talked about parole officers, and Jeffrey Wallace's name came up. Rory put two and two together. He figured out your relationship with Lynley. He just held off adding you to his to-do list of people to torment.”

“Oh, no.” It was all I could do to keep from sitting back down on the stairs.

“Rory needed Bill's help. Bill wanted out, but Rory told Bill he knew about you and used you to keep Bill in line. In exchange, Bill agreed to continue to phony up insurance policies we needed for our … transactions. Rory had to agree not to expose or blackmail you.”

At that, I gave up and sat back down. “Bill actually protected me?”

Beads of sweat dotted my forehead. My brain felt like oatmeal.

Avery handed me another bottle of water from his pack and took one for himself. “Don't make him an angel. Your ex was a crook, Hollis. He made good money out of this.”

I took a deep swallow of water. “And you, didn't it bother you at all?”

“You mean you and me?” He appeared to be going to sit down next to me and then didn't. “Yeah, but it was too late. I'd gone too far. I know you. You wouldn't let me get away with it.”

“No, you're right. I wouldn't.” My head stared to ache.

Just then, through my jacket pocket, my cellphone vibrated like a bee convention.

Avery held out his hand. “I'll take that.”

“Are you … are you going to kill me, too?” The boldness in my voice surprised me as I handed over my last link with the outside world.

He slid the phone closed. “I don't want to, but I really don't want to go to jail.” He put it on the dining room table.

I shook my head. “I've been the victim before. I never thought … I never thought I'd be one again.”

“I need you to do one more thing before this is over.” Avery's voice was firm. He handed me a pad and pen. “Write, ‘I did it. I'm sorry.' ”

I looked around the entry and tried to stand. I sat back down unsteadily. “You … you … you can't m-make me.” A ringing began in my ears and short flashes of light passed in front of my eyes. “Wait …wait, they'll know it's … it's you.”

“How? You just figured out it was me.”

I shook my head. The movement made me dizzy. “I … I think I knew something was wrong all … all along. I just did … didn't want to believe it.”

He looked down at his watch. “I gave you a strong narcotic and muscle immobilizer that will put you to sleep in about fifteen minutes.” He leaned toward my face. “You're going to have to die anyway, but I thought you might still have a soft spot for Mark. Sign the note. If you don't, he's going to take the fall for Bill's death.”

I blinked my eyes to keep them focused. It was becoming harder to keep my words in order. “How? Why … why Mark?”

“Because he likes you. He followed you and found out about the club. I won't bother you with the story details. Suffice it to say, I've got enough evidence to make him an easy suspect.”

He pulled out a large manila envelope and emptied the contents on the coffee table. “You're going to commit suicide because you can't face going back to prison.” He looked over at me. “Rory was blackmailing you. You were going to lose your court appeal. You thought Bill was going to testify against you. You wanted Bill dead. You killed him.”

Oh, dear god, how to keep him occupied
.

My tongue took on a cotton feel and my lips were increasingly losing feeling. “How'd … do I d-die?”

“With this.” He lifted a bottle.

“Th-they will know it was mur-murder. Narcotics and p-poison leave tr-traces.”

He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb to the hallway. “I don't think so. This poison disappears over a relatively short period of time. Water actually does a great job of diluting and carrying it out of your system—through your sweat.” He lifted up a vial of clear liquid. “It's a derivative of choline. One of my more nefarious clients got it for me.”

“Th-the water?”

“Yep. The water. The poison is potent and gets into your bloodstream fast. It will paralyze your limbs then your lungs.”

Even my muddled mind caught the implications. “
The—The Long Pause
. It's not the same p-poison but this is l-like the bo-book sui-suicide.”

“Yeah.” Avery again glanced at his watch. “Look, I've got to go and I need you to get upstairs, so let's move.”

I was determined not to rise from my seat, but Avery took less than a minute to drape me over his shoulders and carry me upstairs. The ornate pattern of the wallpaper became a blur of color. My dizziness increased. He put me down on the bed in one of the guest rooms.

Twisting my shoulder, I did the best I could to shift my weight against him, but I was only successful in bringing us both down on top of the bed. Avery rolled off me and perched himself on his elbow.

“You're so tempting, but I'm going to have to pass.” He rolled up to sit next to me. “I didn't want to hurt you, Hollis. Things just got out of control. If only you weren't so damn nosy.” His voice seemed almost robotic. “I made sure you'd go under easy. It won't hurt or anything.”

“Av-Avery don't d-do th-this, pl-please.” It was becoming more difficult for me to make the right words come. “Y-you'll be found out.”

He walked around the room. “I don't think so. I've been very patient setting things up so that the focus won't fall on me.” He looked back at me. “I don't make mistakes.”

I shook my head. “Wha-what about Ab-Abby? She was a mistake.”

“She was a necessity. I killed her to protect my identity.”

My head seemed to weigh a ton. “I … I can't mo-move.”

He ignored me. After looking once more at his watch, he peeled off the plastic gloves I hadn't seen him put on. “I've got to go now. I'll be back later this afternoon. It will all be over.”

We looked at each other a long moment. I wanted to tell him I'd speak up for him with the police if he let me go, but I thought of Abby. Even if I died before the sun set, Avery Mitchell must be punished. I wouldn't try to make things easier for him. For a moment I thought he could hear my thoughts. He turned back to look at me. Then he was gone.

I lay back on the pillows and closed my eyes. What felt like cement made a slow syrup-like path through my veins. Bending my arm was akin to moving lead. I laboriously scooted next to the edge of the bed. There was an old clock on the dresser. It was almost one. I twisted my body and, with what little force I could muster, I rolled and hit the carpet with a muffled thud.

The area rug was thick and, as a tickle crept up my nostrils, dusty. I almost laughed as a loud sneeze erupted, but what caught my attention was, for the moment, my brain cleared. The harsh sneeze must have opened some neural passage.

My brain might have cleared, but my limbs were like bags of bricks. No one knew where I was. Avery said he noticed I was signed out of the office. I had no doubt he erased my destination or changed it to show me going home. No one would look for me. Mark might try to call, but Avery had my phone. I lifted my head a few inches off the floor. The room was dark, with heavy drapes covering the windows. Other than the bed and dresser, there was no other furniture. I had to catch the attention of a passerby.

I twisted myself again and heaved myself into another roll. I sneezed again. The fringe of an idea faded in and out of my mind. My legs edged over, maybe another foot. The windows seemed miles away. I did this two more times until, with no small degree of satisfaction, I was at the end of the carpet and next to the shiny hardwood floors. My arm reached out and my hand tugged on a drape as hard as it could. It didn't budge. I looked up at the clock. Two. I must have dozed. A tear slipped down my cheek.

My mind started to drift toward sleep again. I pushed my nose against the coating of dust on the floor. A sneeze didn't come this time. With increasing difficulty, I raised my arm until my hand touched the coolness of the floor and, after what seemed like hours, I moved my fingers in the dust. I dozed off.

My eyes fluttered open. The clock said two thirty. Maybe the drug wasn't working. I was groggy and my brain was barely alert, but I was awake. I twisted my body again and started to roll back to the other side, only to wake up what felt like moments later to wonder where I was and what I was trying to do. This time, I didn't have the benefit of a clear head and I fought to keep my eyes open. I couldn't tell if I made progress. My breathing was even shallower. I couldn't hold things together anymore. A heaviness settled into my chest.

I let my eyes close.

I
t was cold. The air conditioner must be on full blast. The dampness on my forehead was both welcome and irritating. I raised my arm to wipe it dry. I couldn't.