White Lies (34 page)

Jake turned quickly, seeking other prey. Kimberley Todd was gone. So was the gun.

That would not have happened if he’d been working at full capacity, he thought.

He used his belt to secure Owen’s wrists behind his back.

“We both know you aren’t going to kill me,” Owen said. “And there’s no evidence Jones & Jones can give to the local cops. Kimberley murdered McAllister, not me.”

“But you murdered Valerie, didn’t you?”

“You can’t prove that.”

“Maybe not. But it shouldn’t be too hard to prove that you conspired with Kimberley to murder Clare Lancaster and me tonight.”

“Wait. Listen to me. You don’t know what’s going on here. I’m using a new version of the founder’s formula. It works, damn it. I can get some for you, too.”

“No thanks.”

“Hear me out. We’re talking power here. Incredible power. I can make you a member of the new cabal. Once you’ve taken the drug you’ll see what I mean. Nothing can stop you when you’re running hot on the formula.”

“People have said that before. They’ve all come to a bad end.”

Jake drew the small leather tool kit out of his pocket and removed the prefilled syringe.

Owen’s eyes followed Jake’s hands. “What’s that?”

Jake jabbed the needle into Shipley’s arm.

“It’s a J&J thing,” he said.

Owen slumped forward, unconscious.

Jake headed out into the dark hall, all senses wide open.

Time to continue the hunt.

Getting out of the building proved harder than Clare had anticipated. The heavy glass doors in the lobby were locked. There was a keypad on the wall but she had no clue about the code.

She swung around, searching for an emergency exit. There was a sign pointing the way over a door behind the long stone desk.

Running footsteps sounded in the hall that led to the changing rooms. A woman, she thought. Kimberley. Something had gone wrong.

She hurried around the desk and ducked behind the chest-high counter.

The footsteps grew louder. She could hear panicky breathing. Not her own.

A split second later Kimberley pounded out of the hall. She headed straight for the emergency exit door behind the long desk.

Intent only on escape, she never looked around.

Clare straightened, grabbed the heavy glass bowl full of brochures off the desk and swung it with all her might at Kimberley’s head.

At the last instant Kimberley sensed movement and started to turn. The motion converted what would have been a solid crack to the skull into a glancing blow. But the impact was enough to make Kimberley stumble sideways and lose her balance. She sprawled on the floor. The object in her hand landed with a harsh clang on the tile.

Clare looked down. There was just enough light to make out the gun. She crouched and grabbed the weapon in both hands.

“Don’t move,” she said. “Trust me, after what I’ve been through lately, I am not feeling particularly squeamish. It won’t bother me at all to pull this trigger.”

Kimberley looked up at her, enraged. “Bitch.”

“You got that right.”

Jake materialized from the shadows of the hall. He took in the situation in an instant.

“You okay?” he said to Clare.

“Yes. You?”

“Turns out you were right about Shipley’s psychic blast thing. Running cold dulled the effects enough to keep me on my feet.”

Kimberley looked at each of them in turn. “What are you talking about? Psychic blast? You’re crazier than Shipley.”

Clare ignored her, concentrating on Jake. “What did you do with Owen?”

“He’s unconscious at the moment,” Jake said.

“But when he comes around, he’ll be dangerous to anyone who is a sensitive, even if he’s tied up.”

“Not for quite a while,” Jake said. “I gave him a shot of a heavy-duty tranquilizer. His senses will be in neutral for at least forty-eight hours. Long enough for Jones & Jones to figure out how to handle the situation.”

“What about Kimberley here?”

Kimberley jerked in alarm. “How do you know my name?”

“We’re good,” Clare explained.

“Whoare you people?” Kimberley demanded.

“He’s from J&J,” Clare said. “I’m freelance.”

“What’s J&J?” Kimberley asked.

“A private investigation firm,” Clare said.

Kimberley wrinkled her nose. “Shit.”

“We’ll hand her over to the local cops along with Shipley,” Jake said to Clare. “They’ll finally be able to close the case on McAllister’s death.”

“No one can prove that I killed Brad,” Kimberley said urgently.

“The gun that Shipley planted in your desk drawer should be enough to tie you to that crime,” Jake said. “And then there’s the little matter of your attempt to kill Clare and me tonight. Lots of evidence for that.”

“It was Shipley’s idea,” Kimberley snapped. “He was trying to set me up to take the fall. Hell, he blackmailed me into this whole thing.”

“Because he knew that you murdered Brad?” Clare asked smoothly. “Was that what he used to force you to help him?”

Kimberley stiffened. She said nothing.

“I’m sure the cops will enjoy hearing your version of events and comparing it to Shipley’s,” Jake said. “Nothing like a partnership gone bad when it comes to this kind of stuff. Both parties can’t wait to spill their guts if it means ratting out the other person.”

Clare looked at Jake. “What are you going to tell the police?”

Jake shrugged. “That I’m a private investigator with the old and distinguished firm of Jones & Jones. I was hired by Archer Glazebrook to look into the death of his son-in-law.”

Clare smiled. “You sure do that truth-veiled-in-a-lie thing well.”

“We all have our talents.”

Clare looked at Kimberley. “Out of sheer curiosity, mind telling me how you got involved with Brad McAllister in the first place?”

Without warning, Kimberley started to sob. Everything about her seemed to crumple.

“We met at the spa where I was working,” she whimpered. “Became lovers. He brought me out here to Arizona with him. Said he had a major business operation going down in Stone Canyon. Said it was probably going to take several months, maybe a year or more to pull it off, but when it was finished we could be married.”

“When did you realize that he had lied to you?” Clare asked.

Kimberley sniffed back tears. “I began to get suspicious when Brad insisted that no one could know about our relationship, not even his mother or his business partner. He kept me stashed away clear across the Valley as if he was ashamed of me.”

Jake looked thoughtful. “Valerie and Shipley didn’t know about you?”

“Not at first,” Kimberley said. Her voice had gone flat. “But eventually Shipley found out about us. He was furious with Brad. I overheard them arguing. Shipley accused Brad of putting the whole plan in jeopardy by bringing me along.”

“Did Brad or Shipley ever tell you about their scheme?” Jake asked.

Kimberley shrugged. “Something to do with a takeover of Glazebrook.” She gave Clare a fulminating look. “When you showed up and convinced Elizabeth to file for divorce, Brad went a little crazy. I’d never seen him like that. He kept talking about how he was going to get rid of you. He was so sure that if you were out of the picture he could salvage the deal.”

“You figured out how and when he intended to kill me, didn’t you?” Clare asked.

“I didn’t have to figure out anything.” Kimberley’s hand clenched into a fist. “Bradtold me how he planned to do it. He was so damned obsessed with getting rid of you that hewanted to talk about the scheme. That’s when I finally began to realize that whatever he had going on here in Stone Canyon was a lot more important to him than I would ever be.”

“What happened next?” Clare asked.

“I asked him about our future,” Kimberley whispered in a choked voice. “The bastard laughed. He actually had the gall tolaugh. Said I was very good in bed but that if he ever wanted to get married again he would look a lot higher than a massage therapist.”

“So you shot him,” Clare said.

“On the night he planned to kill you,” Kimberley agreed. “I knew that when you found the body everyone would think you were the murderer. That’s the way it works, isn’t it?”

“Shipley guessed right away that you were the killer, though, didn’t he?” Jake asked.

Kimberley used her sleeve to dry her eyes. “He promised me he wouldn’t tell anyone, not even Valerie, if I agreed to help him. He said he would make me his business partner. He got me a new identity and then recommended me to the management here at the spa. I was hired immediately.”

“Of course,” Clare said. “No one in Stone Canyon would say no to Owen Shipley. What did Owen tell you he wanted you to do for him?”

“He said he wanted me to make friends with Valerie. I was supposed to keep her focused on her obsession with you until the time came to get rid of her. But tonight I finally realized he was just keeping me handy so that I could take the fall when he finally needed someone to give to the cops.”

“You called Valerie the day I was here at the spa, didn’t you?” Clare said. “You told her I was scheduled for a couple of treatments. Did you invite her to come on over and take a whack at me with that dumbbell?”

Kimberley made a disgusted sound. “That was all her idea. I called her, yes, but only because I had told her I would let her know if you showed up here. I wasn’t aware of what she had done until you came into my office complaining that someone had tried to kill you. I realized right away it must have been Valerie who attacked you. After you left that day I called Shipley and let him know that Valerie was out of control. He was at the country club. He said he’d take care of the problem.”

“He went out, played a round of golf and murdered her,” Jake said.

Clare studied Kimberley. “Why didn’t Owen ever tell Valerie that you were the one who killed Brad?”

It was Jake who answered. “He couldn’t. With Brad gone, Shipley needed help to further his plans. Valerie was useless to him. She was too obsessed with her grief. Kimberley was all he had to work with. He had to protect her until he needed her.”

“I loved Brad,” Kimberley said. “I thought the bastard loved me. He lied right from the start.”

“Yes,” Clare said. “He did.”

Five-fifteenA.M ., Scargill Cove

Fallon sat at his desk, gazing into the glowing screen of the computer. He had been working steadily on Owen Shipley’s journal since Jake awakened him three hours before and informed him that he was sending an encrypted file via e-mail attachment. It had been easy to break the password code. Shipley had not been what anyone would call a techno whiz.

Unfortunately there wasn’t nearly as much material as Fallon had hoped to find. Shipley had been only a low-level member of the cabal. But there were some hints and clues at last. The kaleidoscope in Fallon’s head was starting to produce more than tantalizing glimpses. He could see pictures forming. Disturbing pictures.

He got to his feet and walked to the window. The first light of dawn was waking the cove. Physically he was exhausted but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep for a long time.

Eight-tenA.M ., Portland, Oregon

It was raining when John Stilwell Nash left his private club. The monthly breakfast meeting and the guest speaker who had followed had been incredibly boring as usual. He disliked wasting his time on such trivial matters. But it was important to maintain his image in the Portland business community.

A number of city and state VIPs belonged to the club. It was the only reason he had joined. It gave him a sense of predatory satisfaction to rub shoulders with the movers and shakers of the region. He felt like a shark swimming among a school of oblivious prey fish whenever he dined at the club. He savored the secret knowledge that he already owned some of the politicians and business executives in the room. Eventually, he would have governors, senators and presidents in his grasp.

The rain was steady, relentless. He did not like the city. He didn’t like anything about the Northwest. But his instincts had told him that this would be a good place in which to establish the organization. No one would think to look for the man who intended to take over the Arcane Society here in Portland.

His phone chimed as he waited for his car to be brought around. He checked the number and took the call.

“Yes?” he said.

“The Stone Canyon operation has been terminated. Shipley was picked up by the authorities late last night.”

A searing flash of rage snapped through Nash; the raw anger of the hunter when the prey manages to wriggle free and escape. He worked frantically to control the intense sensation. He had been half expecting the news for some time now, he reminded himself. He had known things were going badly in Arizona. Nevertheless, he wanted Glazebrook. The company would have made an ideal acquisition, perfectly suited to the cabal’s purposes.

He took a couple deep breaths and waited until he was sure he had himself in hand.

“Any loose ends?” he asked, pleased that his voice was calm and cold. It was vital not to show strong emotion in front of the members of his staff. A display of temper was a display of weakness. Self-control was everything.

“No. Shipley is still unconscious. They must have given him something. A heavy tranq, maybe.”

Deprived of the drug, Shipley would soon sink into a bottomless well of insanity, John thought. Jones & Jones would no doubt pick up a few glimmerings of the Plan, but that could not be helped. He would deal with those problems if and when they occurred.

“What about the Todd woman?” he asked.

“She doesn’t know enough to do any damage.”

Neither did Shipley, John assured himself.

“Shipley would have had a small supply of the drug left,” he said. “The local authorities don’t have any reason to be interested in it but I’d rather it didn’t fall into the hands of J&J.”

“Any idea where Shipley kept the drug?”

“No. But given its value to him, it is probably in a secure location. Try the wine cellar. The white wine chiller.”

“The house is a crime scene. They’ll probably have the tape up for a day or so. It would be impossible to get anyone inside long enough to conduct a thorough search until tonight, after the authorities leave.”