Jan Burke - Nine

But Alex had kept watching her face and said, “The woman who lived.”

“If you can call it that,” Ciara said.

“Laney.”

“He left her hanging there! Upside down. Do you know what happens when a person hangs upside down for a long time? It’s really not good for you. You aren’t designed for it-it’s all wrong for your circulation. Pressure builds, your head swells, eventually your eyes are damaged, your throat swells up. It strains the joints you’re hanging from, of course.”

Alex lowered his gaze.

“No one can stay that way forever,” Ciara said, “but in Laney’s case, it was worse. Jerome Naughton had knocked her around-ultimately knocked her out cold-before he suspended her over that tub. So there was bruising, you see? A few places that were weakened by those blows. Normally, they probably wouldn’t have done any long-term damage. But hanging upside down as long as she did? Before Kit Logan decided to let anyone know she was there?”

“Ciara-”

“You met her, Alex. There were nine victims. Nine. And you and everyone else who was impressed with Elizabeth Logan’s money let the man who ruined my sister’s mind and body get away with something worse than murder.”

“I’m sorry Laney went through that, that she suffered as she did…”

“Like hell you are!” she shouted, her face twisted by her anger, her eyes wild and glistening with unshed tears.

“But Naughton was to blame, not Kit. Kit Logan wasn’t a man,” Alex said. “He was a boy. A frightened boy.”

“I saw the pictures Naughton took. You saw them, too. Some of them even in graves-in graves holding dead women! The ones from when they were alive were worse. Those weren’t the acts of a boy.”

“You know what I hated about those photographs? The looks on the victims’ faces.”

“Exactly! Laney was so frightened…”

“So was Kit. You’ve lost count, too, Ciara. Two victims in each of those photos-not one. That kid hated every minute of it.”

“Speaking of minutes,” Everett said, “we’re running out of them.”

“Ciara, think!” Alex said. “What’s going to happen to her now? You go through with this, you’re no better than anyone who abandoned her that night. Who could love her as much as you do? Who’ll take care of her?”

She lowered her gaze and said softly, “Did you think I would leave that to chance?”

He stared at her. “Ciara? Ciara…where is she?”

“It was peaceful,” she said, wiping quickly at her eyes. “And painless. I made sure of that.”

“My God.” His next thought was that Ciara now had nothing to lose.

“Ciara met with us this morning,” Everett said cheerfully, “so that she wouldn’t have to stay in the house with her sister’s body. And that turned out to be a good thing, because I needed her to keep an eye on your nephew. Cameron and I knew his parents would be bringing him home, but we were suddenly given an opportunity we couldn’t pass up-Kit’s little urchin was finally leaving that armed camp he calls home. So when you paged Ciara this morning, she was following a limo, not taking Laney to a doctor.”

“You kidnapped Chase?” Alex asked her.

“No, but I would have, if necessary. You think I care about people who are important to you? You never cared about anyone who was important to me.”

“I think it’s about time we got things set up,” Everett said. “There are two ropes hanging in that bell tower now, Detective Brandon. We’ve detached them from the bells, and tied them over two sturdy beams.”

“We’re going to hang you upside down in there,” Ciara said. “You and Kit Logan, if he’s still alive, and I hope to God he is. The bells will be silent, but before long, you’ll hear a ringing in your ears, Alex. You’ll feel your head pounding, and pressure on your eyes. In a matter of minutes, you’ll be miserable. And it will get worse. You’ll wish for death, Alex. You’ll pray for it-just like Laney must have prayed for it.”

“Ciara, don’t say anything more,” Everett admonished. “You’ll spoil everything. Besides, we don’t have much time left. Take Meghan with you-but don’t strike her lovely face again.”

“Okay-but you leave Alex to me.”

“You get both Logan and Brandon? That hardly seems fair.”

“You want to drag Miss America out into the woods? Fine with me.”

He sighed. “Have it your way. But hurry. I’ll take Brandon to the tower. We’ll wait for you there.”

Meghan stood straight and walked out with Ciara without showing any fear.

“Meghan’s magnificent, isn’t she?” Everett said. “I think we’ll breed well.”

“Don’t count your chickens, as they say.”

Everett smiled and said, “Speaking of offspring-would you like to say a final good-bye to your nephew? You are sure he’s only your nephew, right?”

Alex hesitated, unsure of how to answer this to Chase’s advantage.

“Ah, just a nephew, I see. Then I suppose you won’t mind so much when you discover what’s become of him. Stand up.”

Malibu, California

Thursday, May 22, 9:00 P.M.

Everett hesitated when they reached the door of the bell tower.

“Now that’s interesting,” he said. “An unbarred door.” He looked behind him-a little nervously, Alex thought.

He saw Alex watching him and smiled. “I recently made a little change to this door. You see the brackets that I welded on? They allow the door to be locked and barred on the outside. I have the lock with me, but I left the bar on-I’m sure of it. And of course, if you take that bar off and enter the building, you can’t put the bar back in place, can you? At least, not while you’re still inside.”

Alex started to look over his shoulder, toward the rooftops of the buildings behind them, then suddenly looked forward again, as if he had belatedly realized he was giving a confederate’s position away.

Everett quickly looked between Alex and the rooftops. He narrowed his gaze. “Unless you only want someone to believe you’re still inside.” He pulled the door open and stood aside. “All the same, I think I’ll let you walk in first.”

Alex stepped into the darkened tower. Everett moved in slowly behind him. Alex heard the click of a switch, and lights came on-one set of bright ones, illuminating part of the first floor, and along a wooden staircase railing, a long string of bare bulbs that went about three-quarters of the way up the tower. They stopped abruptly there. The railing enclosed a series of platforms and stairs. Here and there, small shedlike structures protruded onto the platforms.

A pair of thick ropes hung down the center of the tower. They ended about eight feet above the ground. A familiar rappelling rope hung between them, one end attached to a power winch, from where its length rose up into the tower and then back down, its end at the edge of an inner circle that was clear of sandbags. A short stepladder lay folded on the floor of the circle.

“The rappelling rope goes over a pulley,” Everett said, his voice echoing. “The bell ropes are simply tied to a beam. As Ciara told you, there are no bells at the moment. You won’t be able to raise an old-fashioned alarm.” His voice echoed around them.

But Alex was staring at the sandbags, remembering what Hamilton said about explosives.

“Tamping,” Everett said.

Alex felt himself break out in a cold sweat. Tamping was a way of directing the force of an explosion. With this many bags, he could only wonder at the size of the charge that must lay beneath them. He realized he was holding his breath, and slowly let it out.

Soft ticking sounds from one side of the tower drew his attention to a tall, almost L-shaped box made of a thick, clear material. It was attached to the wall, about four feet off the concrete floor. At first glance, it appeared to be the strange marriage of an oversize, tilted pinball machine and a grandfather clock.