Merry Jones - Elle Harrison 01 - The Trouble With Charlie (39 page)

They were staring at me. Frozen, wearing twin expressions of alarm.

It took a moment to realize that it wasn’t me they were alarmed about, but the gun. I was still holding it. In fact, I was holding it up, aiming it at Ted’s gut.

“Thank God, Elle.” Joel started toward me. “You have to help me—”

“Shut up, Joel.” I moved the gun, pointing it at him.

“Elle—” Ted smiled at me. He looked like a younger, scruffier, skinnier Charlie. “Who are these guys? Did they hurt you? Because, I swear—”

“I mean, shut up both of you.”

“Wait, Elle.” Joel was suddenly my best friend. “I don’t know who this creep is, but it’s obvious he came here to rob you. He has keys—”

“Of course I have keys.” Ted was indignant. “I’m family. I have a right to be here. Who the hell are you?”

“No, Ted, I never gave you keys. You have no right to be here.” Why was I even responding to him?

“Charlie gave me his. They were Charlie’s.”

No. Charlie hadn’t given keys to Ted. “Cut the crap, Ted. You took them when you killed him.”

“When I—what? You’re saying I killed my own brother?” He squinted at me as if I’d gone out of focus.

“You think he killed Charlie?” Joel tried to ally himself with me. “Why?”

“I wasn’t even here the night Charlie was killed.” Ted’s hands were up, protecting himself, making a wall. “I was home.”

“No, Ted. You were here. I saw you. I saw you stab him.”

“No, you couldn’t have. You weren’t there.”

Silence. At first, he didn’t realize what he’d just said. Gradually, the stupidity of his reply dawned on him. How could he have known I wasn’t there unless he was? Essentially, he’d confessed.

Joel looked from Ted to me. “So, Elle, you didn’t do it?”

Wonderful. Even Joel had believed I’d killed Charlie.

“Nice try, Elle. Blaming me.” Ted tried to look smug. Failed. “But the cops—they already know it was you.”

Joel watched Ted. “You piece of shit. You were going to let her fry for what you—” Before I could react, his fist landed on Ted’s jaw. Something cracked, probably a bone. Maybe teeth. Blood spurted from Ted’s mouth as he sunk.

“Joel, stop—” Was he seriously trying to make up to me by knocking out Charlie’s killer?

Except that Ted wasn’t out. He reached for Joel’s leg, grabbed it and rolled, taking Joel. Joel yelped, thudded.

“Okay, enough!” I yelled, waving the gun. “Keep your hands to yourselves!” It was as if I was talking to my second graders.

Blood dribbling down his chin, Ted pummeled Joel in the face, punched his throat. Joel was larger, more muscled, but the throat jabs winded him. Coughing, red-faced, he walloped Ted in the belly and, as Ted doubled over, he got him once more in the jaw. Blood spattered on my new carpet. I smelled it, heard grunts, groans, fists colliding with flesh.

I yelled at them again to stop, but they didn’t care. I threatened them, but they didn’t hear. Finally, bracing myself, I closed my eyes and fired the gun into the corner.

They both looked up. Twin expressions, frozen in alarm. Only this time, bruised and bloodied.

The police were on their way. So was Susan.

Joel sat beside Ted on the floor of the study, leaning against the bookcase beside the door. They’d already bled onto my new carpet. I didn’t want them to ruin my new sofa, too.

Joel eyed Ted. “This ugly prick is Charlie’s brother?”

“Mind your fucking business.” Ted cursed through swollen lips, missing some teeth. I saw one lying near his foot, didn’t pick it up.

Joel tried sweet talk. “Elle, really. This has all gotten out of control. Come on, put the gun down.”

I didn’t answer.

He waited a moment, asked, “Where’s Derek?”

I didn’t answer that, either. The gun was heavy. My hands ached from holding it.

“You heard that shot before she came in here.” Ted touched his jaw. His toothless “s”s were “th”s. “That’s where he is.”

“You shot him?” Joel looked at me wide-eyed, feigning disbelief.

Again, I said nothing.

“Of course she shot him. We both heard the gun—”

“He was dead before the shot. Somebody stabbed him.” I leered at Ted. “One of you.”

“You fuck—you fucking stabbed him?” Joel twisted his body to face Ted, his hands tightening to fists.

“I swear if you hit him again, I’ll shoot you both.” I didn’t mean that. I needed Joel to testify that Ted had killed Derek, needed Ted to confess to killing Charlie. Which meant they had to stay alive.

“Elf, you got to listen to me.” Joel tried to bargain. Still thought he could get to me. “I told you before. I had no part in Derek’s mess. I wasn’t involved in any of that kiddie stuff. All I did was book trips for your husband’s business. Honest.”

The gun weighed a ton. My ears were ringing, and I felt unsteady. I moved to the bar so I could support my elbows on the counter. Any minute, I told myself, the police would storm in. They’d arrest Ted and Joel. I’d be exonerated. It would be over.

“Seriously,” Joel went on. “That stuff with the kiddie sex? That was all Derek and Somerset. George and Jonas. Those guys were pervs. But Derek said he’d pull the plug on my agency, ruin me unless I helped them out. Believe me, Elle. They make me as sick as they make you.”

I tossed a wad of cocktail napkins at them. “Wipe the blood off your faces. You want to look good for the cops.”

Ted held a few to his mouth, leaned his head against the bookcase, closed his eyes.

“Elle. Please. Be reasonable. I’m not one of those scumbags.”

“No? Is that what you told Sherry McBride?”

His eyes shifted. “Who?”

“Before you killed her. Did you tell her you were a good guy? That you weren’t like the others? What did you tell her? That you were trying to stop them? Or expose them as pedophiles? Did she trust you and actually hand the files over?”

“Pedophiles?” Ted’s eyes opened. “What are you guys talking about?”

“Oh, her.” Joel ignored him, furrowed his brows as if in thought. “You mean the bimbo. Charlie’s—his secretary.” He sighed. Rubbed his eyes. “Okay, here’s the truth.”

The truth?

“Sherry was blackmailing them. Derek, Somerset, Ogden, Jonas. They wanted to get rid of her, but that’s all I know. Ogden took care of it. But I have no idea if he killed her. He might have hired somebody.”

“Yeah. Probably they hired you. Otherwise, how would you have her flash drive?”

“Her flash drive? Oh, the flash drive I brought Derek?” He shook his head, smiling, as if I had it all wrong. “That was delivered to me. By a messenger.”

I shook my head. Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies. Joel never ran out of them.

“You killed a woman?” Ted looked disgusted. “Dude. That’s lame.”

“You knew I was Charlie’s wife.” I might as well clarify. Not that it mattered. “You went out with me to try to find his copy of the files.”

“No. Not true—well, at least the part about why I went out with you.”

Ted eyed Joel sideways. “You’re dating this asshole?” One eye was swelling. He was going to have a shiner.

“Believe me, Elle. You’re wrong. That part was real. I care about you.”

“Aww, shameless bastard.” Ted scowled. “Moving in on a grieving widow.”

My wrists ached from holding the gun. But things were beginning to make sense. Even little things. Derek must have told Joel that Charlie called me “Elf.” So Joel used that name to get my attention. It had been no coincidence. And Derek had known that Charlie gave me red roses for every occasion.

“Come on, Elle. They had me by the balls.” Joel held his hands out as if to say, “How can you blame me? Nothing was my fault.”

I remembered meeting him. The rose he gave me. The rose that later moved through the house. Appearing magically on the floor of the kitchen or the bedroom. And suddenly, I had a theory.

“You have keys.” Did everyone have keys to my house? He must have lifted my keys and somehow made copies—or Derek had copied Charlie’s and gave the copies to Joel. No matter how he got them, he was able to get in.

“Keys to what?” Again, the innocent expression. Joel, acting ignorant.

I moved away from the bar, stood beside the sofa. Pictured Joel sneaking into the house to search for the flash drive, taking the rose from spot to spot to spook and distract me. To toy with me. Had he also whispered to me, pretending to be Charlie?

“Don’t pretend, Joel. You know to what. You came here after I left Jeremy’s. You let yourself in and snuck around, looking for the flash drive.”

Joel’s eyebrows rose in the middle. He looked perplexed.
“Elle, honestly. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you saying someone was in your house the night I met you? Because it wasn’t me. Maybe it was this guy. He’s the one who had Charlie’s keys.”

“Fuck off. Sicko bastard.” Ted hissed. He met my eyes. “It wasn’t me.”

“Well, it wasn’t me. The truth is, Elle, whatever you think of me, our time together was real. And I—Let’s just say I’m disappointed that tonight didn’t work out.”

My head was ringing. The voices drifted, sounded muted and faraway. Was I going to pull an Elle now, with a gun in my hands? No. I couldn’t. Probably I was experiencing the after-effects of the gunfire. Or a concussion. Probably I needed more pills.

At any rate, I’d had enough. Derek was dead in the closet. Ted had probably stabbed him, just as he had Charlie. Joel or Ogden had murdered Sherry McBride. I didn’t want to look at either of them or hear any more. I leaned on the back of the sofa, holding the now two-ton gun with both fatigued hands. The police would be there any second. All I had to do was hold on until then.

Apparently, they both saw that I was weakening. And neither wanted to wait for the police. Suddenly, as if they’d rehearsed it, they bounced to their feet and ran in opposite directions. Maybe they knew I wasn’t a good shot. Maybe they gambled that I couldn’t hit a moving target. Maybe they didn’t believe I would actually hurt them. Whatever their thoughts, they sprinted at me, Joel from the left and Ted from the right. I tightened my hand around the gun, shouted, “Stop,” before I fired, missed Ted, blew a hole in the wall over Charlie’s desk, and stumbled backward with the recoil as Joel rammed himself into me, grabbing my left arm. I twisted my right arm to aim at him, ready to shoot. But Ted took hold of my right arm. Two against
one. I still held the gun, but couldn’t aim it at either of them. I remember telling myself to kick. Or try for a head butt. I squirmed to get free.

“Got to go, Elf,” Joel grinned, eyes twinkling.

I glared and thrashed, wishing I’d blown his head off.

“Rain check on dinner?” His whisper was throaty. Suggestive.

Suddenly, my jaw slammed backward. I saw a flash of white. And then I was on the floor beside the sofa. Without the gun. Ted was gone, Joel darting out the door.

I tried to get up. The walls, the floor wouldn’t hold still. I held onto the back of the couch, anchoring myself, hearing commotion in the hall.

“What the fuck?” Joel’s voice pierced my sore head, an octave too high.

“It wasn’t me, Charlie—” Ted squealed like a puppy. “It wasn’t. I swear.”

I crossed to the doorway, off balance. Stepped into the hallway, clung to the wall.

Joel and Ted stood by the coat closet. Derek’s shoes protruded into the hall.

“What are you doing, man—” Joel gaped at Ted. “Put that thing down.”

“All I wanted was for you to share. I’m your fucking brother.”

“Dude—who are you talking to? Stop playing around. We got to go.”

“Don’t, Charlie. Please—”

I heard Charlie, like a rumble of distant thunder. I moved slowly, unsteadily, unable to hurry.

Ted chattered. “You wouldn’t help me. You turned me away like I was garbage. What was I supposed to do?”

Another ominous rumble. A shadow rising in the corner. Charlie, gathering rage.

“You’re freaking me out, man.” Joel danced around, edgy. “I’m gone—” But he didn’t leave. He was fixated on Ted.

“Okay. I’ll tell you why. I thought you were divorced. Single. And if you died single, I’d be next of kin. Me and Emma would inherit the money.” Tears rolled down Ted’s cheeks. “I’m sorry, Chuckie. I am. I asked you nicely, but you told me to get lost. Your own brother—”