Erica Spindler - Killer Takes All

Grimly, Stacy quickened her pace. The third was again from Leo. According to her cell’s time stamp, it had come in just before she touched down. Malone had gotten a search warrant and was at the house now. He didn’t know what to do.

A search warrant.

The ball was in motion now.

She stepped outside the terminal and the humid New Orleans air caught her in a bear hug. Crossing the traffic lanes to the parking garage, she found her vehicle, unlocked it and tossed her bag inside.

Minutes later, Stacy was on the airport access road, heading toward I-10 East. She anticipated the trip taking about fifteen minutes, barring accidents, construction or a game in the Superdome.

Stacy tried Leo, got his recording and left a message. She rang Malone, also with no luck. She used the rest of the drive to review what she knew of the recent events and to prepare herself for what awaited.

The playing cards were dead. Now Kay had gone missing. Malone and his partner had gotten a search warrant-which meant they had evidence enough to convince a judge they had just cause.

What did they have on Leo?

She meant to find out.

Stacy reached Leo’s mansion in what she suspected was record time. Judging by the number of cars parked out front, one of them a NOPD cruiser, Malone and company were still there.

She angled her own vehicle into a narrow spot, hopped out and hurried to the front door.

Mrs. Maitlin, looking pale and shaken, answered. “Valerie,” Stacy said, holding out a hand. “I heard. What’s happening?”

The woman grasped it and glanced over her shoulder, then looked back at Stacy. “They’re tearing the place apart. As if Mr. Leo could have done a thing to Mrs. Noble. And poor Alice, she’s the one who…the blood-”

“Stacy!” Leo rushed across the foyer. “Thank God.” He reached the door and drew her inside. “This is unreal. Insane. First, Kay disappearing. Then this search-”

“Did you call your lawyer?”

“Yes. They had already visited him, shown him the warrant. Said it looked legal. That there was nothing I could do but cooperate.”

“If you’re innocent, you have nothing to-”

He cut her off, looking hurt. “If I’m innocent? You doubt me, Stacy?”

“That’s not what I meant. Focus, Leo. They won’t find anything-it will force them to look elsewhere.”

From the corner of her eye she saw Alice, huddled on the parlor couch. She looked lost.

Even though her heart went out to the teenager, she kept her attention on Leo. “Was there any kind of message left at the scene?”

“No, not that I saw.”

“It sounds as if they suspect foul play. Why?”

He looked at her blankly. “The scene,” she said softly. “There were signs of a struggle? Blood?”

He nodded, understanding. “Yes. And I…I sent Alice to look for her.” His voice broke. “She saw-It’s my fault.”

“How’d he get in, Leo?”

“I don’t know.” He rubbed his hands over his face. “They asked me if she ever left her door unlocked.”

Which meant there had been no evidence of a break-in.

“What did you tell them?”

“I told them she did not.”

She laid a reassuring hand on his arm. “Where are they?”

“Upstairs.”

“I’ll be back. Hold tight.”

Stacy headed upstairs, then followed the sound of voices. She saw that the place had been torn apart. Typical cops, she thought, as she found them in her room. Going through her skivvies drawer.

“Having fun, Detective?”

He looked over his shoulder. “Killian.”

“They’re a size five. Not so sexy, but comfortable.”

Tony laughed out loud, Malone shut the drawer, looking a bit flushed. “Warrant covered the entire property. You know the drill.”

“Yeah, I know. Could I have a word with you?”

He glanced at his partner, who motioned for him to go, then joined her in the hall.

“Clock’s ticking.”

“So I’ll get right to the point. You’re wrong about Leo.”

“That so? And what makes you so certain?”

“Dick Danson’s alive. He-”

“Who?”

“Leo’s former partner. He and Leo parted acrimoniously. Supposedly, he committed suicide last year.”

“Ran off a cliff in Carmel, California. It’s all coming back to me. That’s why you were out there. Your hunch.”

“Yes.”

“I thought that hunch had turned out to be gas.”

Quickly, she explained about the suicide and the fact that Danson was identified by his dental records.

“Proof enough for me,” he said, glancing pointedly at his watch.

“Me, too. Until this morning when I found out the dentist who provided those records was murdered not that long after.” She paused. “His killer was never caught.”

For the space of a heartbeat, she thought she had him. Then taking her by the elbow, he led her farther from the other officer. “Ran a little financial check on your buddy Leo Noble. Seems business is good. Very good. Recently did a couple licensing deals. Worth millions, Stacy. Millions. ”

“So? What does that have to do with-”

“Kay gets half. Of everything. Past. Present. And future.”

She stared at him, understanding. Greed. One of the oldest motives for murder.

She shook her head. “He loves her. She’s the mother of his child and his best friend.” Even as she said the words, she acknowledged how naive she sounded.

She pressed on, anyway. “There wasn’t a message from the White Rabbit on this one, was there?” She could tell by his expression that there wasn’t. “No message. No body. Doesn’t fit the White Rabbit MO.”

“All the victims had ties to Leo. He was the recipient of the first three notes and the last was found in his office. And, he knows the game better than anyone else alive.”

“Clark Dunbar is having an affair with Kay. Did you know that?”

She saw by his expression that he didn’t.

“I saw them together. Late one night.” She motioned toward her bedroom. “My window faces the guest house entrance.”

He took out his notebook. “When was this?”

“The night before I left for California. Wednesday.”

He noted the fact. “You’re certain it was Dunbar?”

“Absolutely. I couldn’t make out who it was, so I opened my window. I heard his voice.”

Spencer cocked an eyebrow. “Opened the window?”

“My curiosity got the better of me. Have you talked to Dunbar?”

“He’s out of town. Had a long weekend off.”

“And the woman he’s having an affair with disappears, leaving a scene that suggests foul play. Convenient.”

Spencer closed the spiral notebook and tucked it into his breast pocket. “We’ll check it out.”

This time it was she who caught his elbow. “Danson’s alive,” she said. “He’s the White Rabbit. And he’s exacting revenge on Leo and his family.”

“Get a clue, Killian. Noble created this whole White Rabbit thing to get away with killing his wife.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Of course it does. It’s genius. A big, elaborate smoke screen. Even you’re part of the plan, Stacy.” He shook off her hand and walked down the hall.

Friday, March 18, 2005

6:30 p.m.

Stacy watched him walk away, a knot in the pit of her stomach. The past rushed up, so thick and bitter it nearly choked her. This wouldn’t be the first time her judgment had proved faulty. Wouldn’t be the first time she had been deceived. Her good intentions used.

She struggled to breathe evenly. To get a grip on her emotions.

The past was not repeating itself. She wasn’t that woman anymore.