Marta Perry - Murder in Plain Sight

Because she was emotionally involved, that was why.

“So it all depends on Bobby’s word,” Leo said slowly, as if he were turning it over in his mind. “Bobby handled all the financial records for Trey’s father, just as he does for Trey.”

“You think Bobby…?” Quiet, unassuming Bobby, with his dogged devotion to Trey-how could that be?

“I’m not accusing anyone,” Leo said. “But I think we ought to have a second check on this.” He picked up the phone. “Let me give Trey a call. See if we can get access to those business-card receipts. Then we can move forward from there.”

It was what she should have done, if she hadn’t been so tied up in knots over her feelings for Trey. She could hear Leo’s voice, talking to Geneva, apparently, but it was Trey’s face that filled her mind. Even if nothing could come of the feelings she had for him, she had to admit them to herself.

There was a click as Leo hung up the phone. She looked at him, to find him staring back at her, his face so devoid of any expression that it shocked her. “What is it?”

“Geneva says Trey’s not there. He had a call from Bobby. He’s gone to the cabin to meet him.”

Fear gripped her heart-instinctive, primal fear. She bolted from her chair. “We have to go there. If Bobby-”

She didn’t finish the thought. She didn’t have to. Leo was close behind her as she rushed to the door.

TREY’S HEAD THROBBED. He sagged forward, something cutting into his wrists. He fought to open his eyes, but his eyelids refused to cooperate. It was a dream, a nightmare…

He jerked his head back, earning a fresh stab of pain. A nightmare, maybe, but only too real. He forced his eyes to open, attempted to focus.

The cabin. He was at the cabin. He’d come…The darkness threatened to sweep over him again, and he beat it back. He’d come to meet Bobby. When he walked in the door, something hit him.

Not something. His mind worked sluggishly, like the truck’s motor on a below-zero morning. Someone.

Bobby. Bobby had been waiting for him.

He struggled against the realization. Bobby couldn’t have, wouldn’t have-

The door opened, letting in a shaft of light that hurt his eyes. Bobby walked in, carrying a metal gas can in each hand. Trey couldn’t argue with himself about it, not when the truth was in front of him.

“Bobby.” His voice came out in a harsh croak. No point in asking what he was doing. That was only too obvious. “What-why are you doing this?”

Bobby didn’t answer. He busied himself with the gas cans, setting one on one side of the room, the other opposite it, in the precise, fussy manner that kept everything he touched in perfect order. Then he straightened and looked at Trey.

“Poor Trey. He asked me to meet him at the cabin where his father committed suicide. But when I got there, the place was already on fire. I could see him, slumped over. I tried to reach him. Maybe I even got some burns on my hands.” He held his hands up, inspecting them. “But I was too late. He’d killed himself, just like his father.”

Bobby looked the same. That was the thing that turned Trey’s stomach. He looked like the same Bobby they’d all taken for granted for the past fifteen years. That mild facade-Trey could see now what it hid. Hatred.

“Except that my father didn’t commit suicide, did he?” The truth seemed clear now, when it was too late. “That never made sense to me. You killed him. Why? Did he catch you cooking the books?”

It was a shot at random, but he saw the truth flare in Bobby’s face. “He made it almost too easy. You and your father were so trusting. ‘Bobby will take care of all the dull, boring, financial stuff.’ Too bad he got suspicious. It really was the cancer that killed him, you know. Because of that, he suddenly decided he had to get his financial house in order-started looking through the books and stumbled on my little deception.”

“So you killed him.” Bile came up in Trey’s throat. “He wouldn’t have sent you to jail. He wasn’t like that.”

“Oh, no. He told me that, in such a pitying way. He was being magnanimous, letting me go quietly, promising never to tell anyone.” Bobby’s mouth twisted. “That was thoughtful of him. Made it easy to arrange his suicide.”

“I thought we were friends.” Trey twisted his hands, trying to loosen the knots. He couldn’t just sit here and let Bobby kill him. He had to fight.

“Friends?” Bobby’s eyebrows lifted. “Because the golden boy who had everything condescended to stop his little buddies from bullying me? That made a nice story, didn’t it? I could see Jessica just lapping it up.”

Jessica. Pain lanced Trey’s heart. He was never going to see her again, never have a chance to tell her what he felt for her…

“I don’t get it. Why did you do all those things to chase her away? You were the one who brought her here.”

“Only because your mother insisted. I told Henderson we didn’t need his high-powered talent-just some lowly young attorney who could plead the case out quickly. He sent Jessica. Who would have guessed she’d turn out to be such a fighter? I’ll be doing something about that, you realize.”

Bobby turned away, walked to the closest gas can and unscrewed the top. With a swing of his arm, he began splashing the gas across the floor-over the rag rug, on the wooden planks that would burn so easily…

The acrid scent filled Trey’s nostrils, choking him. From outside, he could hear Sam start barking. He must smell it, too. Someone might hear him, might come. But the Miller place was the closest house, and it was nearly a mile away.

“You couldn’t resist leaving your signature, could you?” The ropes were loosening, Trey could feel it. Say something, anything, to buy a little time. “That raven symbol. What was the idea behind it?”

“Don’t talk about that!” Fear flashed in Bobby’s eyes, jerked his hand so that the gasoline spilled on his shoe. “Never mention that.” He gave a furtive glance over his shoulder at the open door. “I shouldn’t have done that. They wouldn’t like it.”

“They?”

“The brotherhood,” Bobby’s voice dropped to a whisper. “They mustn’t know.”

Fear trickled down Trey’s spine. The brotherhood, an organization that had been dust for two hundred years? Bobby was crazy. That was the only answer.

“Was that why you killed Cherry? Because she knew about the raven?”

Bobby picked up the second can, splashing the gas on the other side of the room, over the table where Trey’s father died. Trey jerked at the ropes, fighting them.

“She was too greedy. She thought she could use the things I told her against me. So she had to go.” Bobby looked at him then, dropping the empty gas can on the floor. “Like you.” He pulled a gun from his pocket, shifted it to the other hand, fumbled with a box of matches. “Goodbye, Trey.”

JESSICA’S CAR BOUNCED OVER the ruts in the lane. Please, please, let us be in time.

They burst into the clearing, and Jessica hit the brakes to keep from running into Trey’s truck. Sam was in the front seat, lunging at the window, barking furiously. Beyond the vehicle, the cabin door gaped open.

Bobby stood in the doorway, his back to them. Her heart stopped. He held a gun. He lifted it, aimed, she couldn’t be in time, she couldn’t-

She shoved the car door open, raced the few steps to the truck and yanked its door wide. Sam exploded from the front seat. As she ran after him she could hear Leo shouting into his cell phone, could see Trey beyond Bobby in the cabin, tied and helpless, the gun-

Sam flew into Bobby, snarling. Bobby fell, the gun going off. A small flame arced through the air. It hit the floor, flames blossoming in its wake.