Erica Spindler - Killer Takes All

Could she be wrong about this? Could Leo’s laptop have been new? Could Alice simply have not known, made a mistake?

No. She wasn’t wrong. Alice had orchestrated this, had cold-bloodedly planned her parents’ deaths.

Stacy forced a concerned smile. “How are you?”

“Hanging in there.”

“I brought you a moccaccino.”

“Thanks.”

“Alice, honey, I’m going to meet the movers. Will you be okay for an hour or two?”

“I’ll stay with her, Grace,” Stacy said. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”

The woman waited for confirmation from Alice, who nodded.

Grace exited and Stacy kept things chatty for several moments, until she felt confident Grace wouldn’t unexpectedly return.

Then she faced Alice. “Let’s cut the shit, shall we? It’s just you and me now.”

The teenager’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about, Stacy?”

She leaned forward. “ I know, Alice. It was your plan. You’re the one.”

She started to deny it; Stacy cut her off. “You’re brilliant. They were holding you back. Treating you like a baby. You must have thought ‘How dare they?’ After all, you were smarter than both of them. Weren’t you? Or did you just make that up?”

“Yeah,” she said softly, “I’m smarter than they both were. Too smart to be fooled by this.”

“By what?”

“Your pathetic attempt to trap me. Toss me your cell phone.”

“My cell. But why?” she asked, though Stacy knew she’d used an open cell call to trap the man who’d tried to kill Jane.

“Because I know everything about you, that’s why. Everything you’ve ever done. I do my homework.”

Stacy tossed the girl the phone.

She caught the device, looked at it and met Stacy’s gaze. “Smart. But not smart enough.”

She hit the end button and tossed it back. “Who was on the other end of that open call? Spencer Malone and his chubby partner?”

Stacy kept up the facade. “How did you know?”

“You’ve used that little trick before. When your partner tried to kill your sister. Like I said, I did my homework.”

“Fine by me. It really is just you and me now.”

Alice smiled. “You’ve asked me, now it’s my turn. What gave me away?”

“You lied. About your dad’s computer. He had an Apple laptop.”

She nodded. “I regretted that lie the moment it passed my lips. I wondered if you’d catch it.”

“And now I have.”

She shrugged. “Big deal. It’s not going to do you any good. Wouldn’t it have been better to go on thinking you saved the day?”

“Truth is always better than a lie.”

Alice laughed, her expression transforming. “Mom was supposed to die that night at Belle Chere. As were you. Your buddy Malone screwed that up.”

“Lucky me.”

“I tried to get rid of him several times, but he was either too stupid, or too lucky, to back off.”

“Get rid of him? How?”

“Anonymous calls to the NOPD. About his involving a civilian in an official investigation.”

“Aren’t you just the smart little cookie. All brain, no heart or soul. Just like a character from White Rabbit.”

She bristled. “I needed my freedom. I deserved it. It was ridiculous the way they tried to control me. I should have controlled them.”

“And why’s that? They were the adults, you their child.”

“But they weren’t my equal. I could think rings around both of them.”

“So you formulated a plan, carefully piecing it together into a flawless scenario.”

“Thank you.” She gave a small bow. “You see? I should have been at university three years ago. But he wouldn’t let me go. And she sided with him. She always did, even after they divorced. So they stuck me with these lame tutors.”

“Like Clark.”

She laughed. “Clark was the first piece of the puzzle. I discovered who he was not long after he was hired.”

“How?”

“Searched his room. Found a receipt for a local storage locker. Lifted the key one afternoon and ta-da, the real Clark Dunbar was revealed.”

She was resourceful, Stacy’d give her that. Evil but resourceful.

“He’d kept all sorts of stuff from his past. Pictures. Letters. Diplomas and papers. Interesting that he’d been unable to let those things go. I could have.”

“No doubt. After all, you were able to murder your parents without so much as a sniffle.”

“Except for Mom, I didn’t actually kill anybody.”

“Troy did.”

“The second piece of the plan.”

“Where’d you find him?”

“Online. An RPG chat room.”

Stacy glanced toward the painting on the far wall, a nondescript landscape. “How’d you get him to join up with you?”

“Easy. Troy liked his women young. And he liked money. A lot.”

The girl’s words sickened her. She continued. “Troy was lazy and stupid. But useful. He was good at following orders, at keeping his eyes on the prize. He wanted that carrot.”

“What’d you promise him?”

“A million bucks.”

A million dollars. The cost of all those lives. Enough to entice a man such as Troy to murder.

Alice curled up on the couch, like a satisfied cat. She sipped her coffee drink. “Would you believe Mom let me do the background check on Troy? It was all I needed to see. I knew he was perfect.”

“When did you get the idea to create a White Rabbit scenario?”

“When I knew who Clark really was. He was the perfect fall guy.”

Stacy nodded. “You could plant clues to lead the police to his real identity. Once they uncovered it, they would look no further.”

“The way you did,” she said, expression smug. “I thought of everything.”

“And once your mom and dad were dead, you’d be free.”

“And rich. Very, very rich.”

“And all those people in between? Their deaths were just a means to an end?”

She shrugged. “Basically. Their deaths served a higher purpose.”

“But I came along and mucked it up.”

“Don’t give yourself too much credit. A kink, that’s all. I like thinking on my feet. Keeps me sharp.”

Stacy longed to wipe the smug expression from the teenager’s face. “And Cassie?” she asked.

“Wrong place, wrong time. I was in Café Noir, she looked over my shoulder and saw the game. Asked me about it. She became a loose end. Sorry.”

She didn’t sound sorry, not at all. Stacy balled her hands into fists.

“So, you told her you’d hook her up with a Supreme White Rabbit.”

“Yes.”

“Troy?”

“Yes, again.”

“You’re not going to get away with this.”

“You’re too average to outthink me. That’s a fact.”

“It doesn’t bother you that I know the whole truth?”

“Should it?” She sucked more of the frozen beverage through the straw. “Go to the police, they won’t believe you. You don’t have any proof. No evidence, no case.”

“Define evidence. ”

“Please. We both know what evidence is. And how much you’d need to try a case like this one.”

“Okay.” Stacy smiled. “Don’t define evidence. How about a word you used earlier. Kink? As in the one I put in your plan.”

The girl stared at her. For the first time, an emotion other than self-satisfaction passed over her features. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“See that painting?”

Alice glanced at it. “Yeah.”

“Like it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Too bad. Because you’re going to spend the rest of your days thinking about it. Cursing it.”

The teenager made a sound of impatience. “And why would that be?”