Erica Spindler - Killer Takes All

She reached for her gun, tucked into the night table drawer. As she curled her fingers around the grip, Kay emerged from the guest house. Light spilled into the garden. She ran to the man. He took her into his arms.

Not Leo, she recognized immediately. But who? she wondered, straining to make out the man’s identity. When she couldn’t, as quietly as possible, she lifted her window. The couple’s voices carried on the night air. Kay’s husky laugh. The man’s murmured endearment.

Not Leo. Clark.

Kay Noble was having an affair with Alice’s tutor.

She watched the two stroll toward the guest house, then disappear inside. For a moment they were silhouetted against the window, embracing.

In the next instant, the window went black.

Stacy set the Glock carefully back in the drawer and slid it shut, thoughts racing. The pairing didn’t completely surprise her. Clark was intelligent, worldly. An academic.

Anemic, she thought. Compared to Leo.

Or Malone, God help her.

But maybe that was the point. If what Leo had told her about his and Kay’s relationship was true.

If? Now, why would she think that?

And why did knowing the woman and Clark were having an affair seem so wrong?

Kay and Leo were divorced. But Clark was an employee. Kay’s daughter’s tutor.

And Leo was so obviously still in love with the woman.

Stacy closed the window and turned away from it. Was her affair the reason Kay had refused to move into the main house? Had she carried on with Clark when Alice was there? Surely not.

The teenager was bright, intuitive. She must at least suspect the affair.

Stacy frowned as her thoughts turned to Alice. She spent an inordinate amount of time on her computer, day and night. Every so often, the sound of Alice’s computer announcing an instant message awakened her.

Alice, it seemed, had inherited her father’s sleep habits.

Before Stacy had finished processing that thought, a crash came from the adjoining room. Followed by a cry.

Heart lurching to her throat, Stacy retrieved the Glock and ran into the hall and across to Alice’s door. She tried the door, found it locked and rapped on it.

“Alice,” she called, “are you all right?”

The teenager didn’t reply and she pressed her ear to the door.

Silence.

“I heard you cry out. Are you all right?”

“Go away! I’m fine.”

Her voice sounded funny. Shaky and high-pitched. Stacy’s mouth went dry.

“Open this door, Alice. I need to see for myself that you’re unhurt. If you don’t I’ll-”

The door opened. Alice stood before her, eyes red and face blotchy from crying. Otherwise, she appeared unhurt.

Stacy peered around her. The room looked empty. A figurine lay in pieces on the floor.

Alice had been crying. The crash the result of a fit of temper. Typical teenage drama.

Stacy felt more than a little silly. “I heard the crash and what I thought was a cry and-”

“Is that a-” Alice bit the words back, eyes widening. “Oh, my God, you’ve got a gun.”

“It’s not how it looks.”

The teenager sprang backward. “Stay away from me, you psycho.”

“I’m not a psycho, Alice. And there’s a reasonable explanation for-”

The girl slammed the door in her face. Stacy heard the lock click into place.

Stacy stared at the closed door a moment, a bemused smile tugging at her mouth.

Having fun now, Killian?

She counted to ten, then tapped on the door. She didn’t expect a response and didn’t wait for one. “Alice, I have a permit for the gun. I’m an experienced shooter, and your father knows I have it.”

She paused, allowing her words to sink in, then leaned closer. “I wasn’t trying to interfere, just to make certain you were all right. If you need anything, anytime, I’m next door.” She gave the girl a moment to digest that, then added, “Good night, Alice.”

She returned to her room and listened, but the girl had either stopped crying or had become better at covering the sound. Poor kid probably felt she couldn’t even cry in her own room anymore.

Stacy’s gaze landed on her cell phone, charging on its cradle. Her thoughts filled with Jane. She longed to talk with her. To share everything and ask her advice.

She crossed to her laptop, opened it and turned it on. It hummed a moment before the monitor sprang to life. Stacy navigated to her mail program, to the e-mail Jane had sent today.

Pictures of Apple Annie. Wearing the denim jumper Stacy had sent, the one with the apples embroidered on the smock and pockets.

Stacy gazed at the images, throat tight with tears, wondering what the hell she was doing.

Go home, Stacy. Back to the people who love you.

To the people you love.

She wanted to, so badly she could taste it. So what was stopping her? Leaving was not running away. It was not giving up.

It’d take more than a few threats and several dead bodies to send her over the edge.

Stacy froze.

Over the edge.

Leo’s partner had gone over an edge.

A cliff. To his death.

She thought of her comment to Leo that first day. That there were two Supreme White Rabbits. Leo and his former partner.

She caught her breath. Could Danson be alive?

Stacy looked at the clock. 12:35.

Leo being a night owl was proving handy; she needed to ask him a few questions about his former partner.

She grabbed her robe and headed out to the hallway, then downstairs. Sure enough, light streamed from under Leo’s office door. She tapped on it.

“Leo,” she called. “It’s Stacy.”

He opened the door and smiled that goofy, lopsided smile of his. “Someone else walking the floors at midnight,” he said. “What a nice surprise.”

“May I come in?”

At the formality in her tone, his smile slipped. “Sure.”

She entered; he left the door open. Pointedly, she thought.

“I owe you an apology,” he said. “For this afternoon.”

“You’ve already apologized. It’s over.”

“Is it? I’m not so sure.”

“Leo-”

“I’m attracted to you. I think you’re attracted to me. What’s the problem?”

Stacy looked away. Then back, meeting his eyes directly. “Even if I was interested, you’re still in love with your ex-wife.”

He didn’t deny it, didn’t try to explain or make excuses. His silence was her answer. Or rather, the damning confirmation of what she had already known was true. “This isn’t why I’m here, Leo. I want you to tell me about your ex-partner.”

“Dick? Why?”

“I’m not sure. I’m working on something and need more information. He died three years ago?”

“Yes. Went over a cliff in Carmel, California.”

“You found out about the accident how?”

“A lawyer contacted us. Dick’s death freed up some of our joint ventures, including White Rabbit.”

“The lawyer tell you any more about the death?”

“No. But we didn’t ask.”

She digested that. “You said you guys split for personal reasons. That he wasn’t the man you’d thought he was.”

“Yes. But-”

“Humor me, please. Did those feelings have anything to do with Kay?”

His expression went from surprised to admiring. “How did you know?”

“A look you and Kay exchanged that first day. But that doesn’t matter. Tell me what happened.”

Leo let out a resigned-sounding breath. “Begin at the beginning?”

“That’s usually best.”

“Dick and I met at Berkeley. As you already know, we became good friends. We were both brilliant and creative, both into role-playing games.”

No false modesty there. “Where does Kay fit into this?”