Ultimate Concealer, A Toni Diamond Mystery: A Toni Diamond Mystery (Toni Diamond Mysteries) (22 page)

She flipped rapidly through day wear, increasingly hopeful that she was wrong.

She began searching through evening wear, flipping rapidly through each outfit. The odd garment bag wasn’t transparent so, after she’d checked every outfit she could see, she started on the ones that needed to be unzipped to display their contents.

She found what she was looking for in the third bag. Carefully, she unzipped the fastening and was greeted by black silk. She drew the padded hanger off the rack and carried the bag out to the bedroom. She laid the bag on the bed and rapidly unzipped it all the way.

“No,” she cried softly when she’d revealed a silk jacket and pants that she recognized. “Oh, no.” Somewhere in that rack of wigs in the cupboard would be the one that so resembled Loretta and Suzie’s hairstyle. He’d been impersonating women for years. He’d done a superb job for the security camera.

Her hand was trembling as she raised her cell phone.

“I should have burned that, of course,” Brent’s voice said, just behind her.

With a tiny squeak of surprise mingled with panic, she turned to find Brent Hodgkin standing just inside the door to his bedroom, the one she’d so foolishly left wide open.

She fumbled with the phone.

He wore a brown suit with a tie the color of swamp mud paired with a cream shirt. His hair was neatly brushed, his brown loafers shone with recent polish. She could only imagine he kept the gun he was pointing at her in as tip-top condition.

“But the outfit was Mother’s. I could not bring myself to destroy it. She wore it for him, you know. That’s why I put it on that night. Sentiment, I suppose.”

“The night you killed him, you mean.”

Toni was fairly certain that the gun had killed not only Grant Forstman but also Buddy Olafson, the security guy who’d been in charge of video surveillance. Brent wouldn’t hesitate to kill her.

If she could drag this out, maybe she had a chance.

In spite of the fact that he was a cold-blooded murderer, she couldn’t help a stab of pity for Brent. “Grant Forstman was your father, wasn’t he?”

He nodded. “Don’t you think one bad thought about my mother. She wasn’t a loose woman. He was going to marry her. They were engaged. But he met somebody else and broke her heart.” His voice trembled ever so slightly. “She loved him.”

“Did he know about you?”

His lips compressed. “He gave her some money. Paid her off. But he refused to see her or me.” He shook his head. “My mother died of a broken heart, Toni. And I swore I’d avenge her death.”

“How did you find out about the secret elevator?”

He made a derisive sound. “Please. Suzie couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it. She was so full of herself, becoming the next Mrs. Forstman, that she told me everything. It was so easy. All I had to do was get rid of the bodyguards and pretend to be her.”

“The food poisoning?”

“They eat like pigs. Easy enough to slip something in their food.”

“But only one of them got sick.”

“Didn’t matter. Forstman was so paranoid of getting sick that he stayed clear of Milo that whole day.”

She nodded, remembering what Dwayne had told her. “He sent him home early. But why did you set Dwayne up to take the rap?”

“Look, Toni, no offense to your ex-husband, but Dwayne set himself up. He stole from Forstman, was banging his wife, I figured I did him a favor. He was better off in jail than getting taken out by Forstman’s thugs. They’d have done it, too.”

“Taken out? You mean like –”

“Rubbed out, digging holes in the desert, erased, disappeared—”

“Okay, murdered. I get it.”

“Forstman wasn’t a good guy to tangle with and Dwayne was like a bug crawling under his raised boot. He was asking for trouble.”

It was twisted logic but she didn’t imagine most killers used straight logic or they would never kill in the first place. “So, you were doing Dwayne a favor?”

He shrugged. “We were doing each other a favor. Your ex was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and since Dwayne didn’t kill Forstman I figured there was a good chance he’d get off. Meanwhile, he was so convenient, on the scene, looking guiltier than sin. What was the incentive for the cops to search deeper?” He scowled. “Everything was going fine. Then you came along.”

“My daughter came along first.” And for that, if nothing else, she would never forgive Brent. He’d committed murder while her daughter was staying in his home. Worse, he’d set up his house guest’s father for the crime.

He seemed to feel mildly ashamed of himself. “Yeah. That timing was unfortunate. She’s a great kid.” He shrugged. “But she’s tough. She’ll be fine. And Linda will do a great job looking after her.”

Right, because he was planning to kill Toni, of course.

She needed to think, and she needed to think fast. This guy had killed not only once, he’d killed twice, the second time an innocent man who happened to be in the way. She knew he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her.

Unless she could stop him.

Linda was a great mom and a great grandma, he was right. But Toni wasn’t ready to let her take over Tiff’s upbringing so some pathetic guy with an overdeveloped mommy complex could get away with murder.

“How did you get Grant Forstman to let you up?”

In a second, she watched Brent’s face soften and transform ever so slightly. He pushed out his lips, cocked a hip. “Honey? It’s me, and I’ve got a little itch I need my big boy to scratch.” The man was an incredible mimic. If she’d had her eyes closed she’d have believed Suzie was in the room.

“She does not really say things like that.”

“Oh, she does.” He seemed as nauseated as she was. “I’d been listening in on her calls to him.”

“And he said, ‘Come on up?’”

He pursed his lips, went back to being Brent. “I will not offend my mother’s memory by repeating his exact words, but yes. He pushed the button to let Suzie up to his office.”

“I bet he was surprised to see you.”

“I made very sure he understood exactly who I was and why I was there.”

“And then you killed him.”

“I did it for Mother.”

“And what about Buddy? He never hurt you. He didn’t deserve to die.”

He shook his head, looking peevish. “Buddy’s all on you. I didn’t have any problem with you trying to get Dwayne off the hook. Hey, he’s a friend of mine.”

She almost snorted her disbelief but held herself back. That gun had not wavered from pointing in the general direction of her chest. She didn’t want to irritate Brent enough that he’d pull the trigger.

“If you wanted to make Loretta look bad, I had no problem with that. She was a slut, anyway. I didn’t even think to get rid of the footage from the security cameras. That was sloppy of me. When Buddy spoke to you that night in the club, I realized how stupid I’d been. And I took care of it.”

He explained these things to her as though they were perfectly reasonable. Like one of those math equations he’d helped Tiffany with. Step one leads inevitably to step two, and if this happens then that happens.

But Toni did not fit the pattern. “There is no way you can kill me and get away with it. You might as well give yourself up to the police. Honestly, Brent. Everybody will understand that you did what you thought was right for your mother.” And she glossed over about what everybody would think about him murdering an innocent man in cold blood whose only crime was possessing film that implicated Brent. “I already have the names of some good lawyers from when Dwayne was charged. But if you kill me, well, my boyfriend’s a cop. They won’t rest until you are put away for life.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Or worse.”

He smiled. As though she were one of his less bright clients and she was trying to tell him why her poodle sitter was a tax-deductible expense.

“Don’t worry. I’ll fix it all up nice and neat and tidy.”

Oh, this she really had to hear. “How?”

“Pick up your cell phone and call Dwayne.”

“Dwayne? Why would I call him?”

“Because he needs to come home. And when he does, you’re going to argue and tell him exactly why you know he murdered Grant Forstman. He’ll go psycho and kill you. Then, in remorse, he’ll kill himself.” He glanced at the firearm in his hand. “With this gun, of course.”

A shiver of pure dread slithered down her spine. Not that Brent would get away with his insane plan, but that by the time he was caught she and Dwayne would already be dead.

“Well, I’m not going to call Dwayne.”

He looked for a second as though he was going to shoot her now and figure out the rest later. A spark of pure crazy flashed in his eyes, and she took a step back until she bumped the bed with the back of her knees.

Come on, Toni
. She had to think of something.

“Give me your phone.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll shoot you in the leg. I’m a very good shot. I’ve been practicing for a long time.”

Damn. She picked up the phone. Clicked a button. She tossed it, harder than necessary and in the direction of his face. All she needed was a moment of inattention, for him to jerk back or have to pick up the phone from the floor.

Brent surprised her yet again. His reflexes were too good. He grabbed the flying phone with his left hand while the gun in his right hand barely wavered.

He found Dwayne’s number on her cell, never letting his attention or gun waver. He glanced at her. “I’m sure you know enough about guns to recognize a silencer. If you do anything stupid like try to yell something, you’ll be dead before you get the first word out. Do you understand?”

She sent him a glance so sour she hoped it withered his liver. She nodded.

He pushed send.

Don’t pick up, she begged.

“Toni, darlin,’” she heard her ex-husband say, loud and clear.

Oh, please gush right back, she begged Brent silently. Then Dwayne would know something was up.

But Brent had obviously been listening to her and Dwayne as closely as he’d listened to Suzie’s conversations with Grant Forstman.

“Dwayne,” Brent said in a tone that sounded more like her mother than like Toni. “I’m at Brent’s house. I need to talk to you. Can you come right over?”

“Why sure, darlin’. What’s up?”

Brent rolled his gaze. “Somebody dropped off some money. Said it’s for you.”

He whooped. She could hear him as clearly as though he’d been in the same room. “Didn’t I tell you my ship was comin’ in? I got my car back, too. I’m on my way. Don’t move. I’ll be right there. And I am taking you and Tiff and Linda for the biggest steak dinner you ever saw.”

As Brent ended the call he shook his head. “That was almost too easy.”

“Please, Brent,” she said. “Please don’t do this.” She thought maybe she could manage a few tears, and by thinking about Tiffany losing both her parents, managed easily. If Brent considered she was weak and frightened he might let his guard waver.

Which would be a great plan if she wasn’t frightened and, compared to a wiry guy with great reflexes and a loaded gun, she did feel pretty weak.

However, she had Tiffany to think of and no female-impersonating, mommy-obsessed murderer was going to get rid of her. Not without the fight of her life.

Everybody has weaknesses. She already knew his. His obsessive love for his mother. And hatred for his father.

While they waited, she got him talking about his mother. As she’d suspected, she was the showgirl in the photographs dominating this room. Brent could talk all day, but he wasn’t going to let his guard down. Not for a second.

In all too short a time, she heard loud country music, which suggested that Dwayne had the top down on his convertible and was outside.

Brent heard it too.

He said, “You’re not going to do anything stupid and you know why?”

She shook her head, still trying to look weak and frightened.

“Because if you screw this up, I will call Tiffany and tell her you’re in trouble and you need her.”

She felt the rage of a mother tiger rise within her, fought to keep it from showing. “No. Please. I’ll do anything you say.”

He smiled briefly. Nodded. “You keep your mouth shut and do everything I say.”

The front door banged open and Dwayne called out, “Hey, Toni. I’m home. Where’s my gorgeous wife?”

“Ex-wife,” Brent snapped in exactly the tone Toni used. Holy crap he was good. “I’m down here in Brent’s room.”

“What are you doing in Brent’s room?” Dwayne asked. She could hear him getting closer.

“I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“And I’ve got a surprise for you,” Toni said.

She’d grabbed the garment bag and dragged the zipper up into the black silk, mangling it horribly.

She held the outfit in front of her hoping that Brent wouldn’t put a bullet through one of his precious mother’s outfits.

A cry of rage came from the man holding the gun on her. “Stop that,” he spat.

“Honey?” Dwayne ambled into the open doorway, a big smile on his face and his guitar in his hand.