See No Evil

really liked it. I didn’t think he’d hurt her, and I didn’t think she’d go all batty and tell everyone he raped her. I figured she’d dump him and he’d come willingly back to me. And I certainly didn’t think she’d go off and kill herself! Who does something that stupid? Only whack jobs like Faye.”

“Shut up! Don’t talk about Faye like that-” Tristan began.

“Faye was as crazy as they come and you know it.” Michelle’s eyes hardened. “I know what you did with her. How could you?”

“You know nothing about Faye.”

Julia saw her opportunity. “Faye was alive and well when I left her.”

Tristan shook his head, his hands rubbing his scalp. “Just stop!”

“I want you to know the truth,” said Julia. “Michelle gave Faye the knife.” It became clear to Julia then. “You loved Faye, didn’t you?”

“Don’t talk about her,” he said.

“You loved her and Michelle was jealous. She found out and used Faye’s weakness against her.”

“Faye was too good,” he said. “She’d never have cut herself deep enough to die. She knew what she was doing.”

“Not if someone drugged her or manipulated her. Faye was taking the entire blame for all the murders. We knew someone else was involved, but we didn’t know about you. We knew about Michelle, though, and we were looking for Laura Chase. Tristan, you would have gotten away with it, at least long enough to disappear and leave the country.

“Michelle feared Faye would turn her in. That’s why she got her to kill herself. Michelle did it to protect herself.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Michelle spat out viciously. “By the time the police figured anything out, I’d be as far away as Tristan.” But Michelle’s eyes kept darting to the man who, until now, had barely moved from the door.

“You killed Faye?” Tristan stepped toward Michelle.

“She was going to destroy you,” said Michelle. “Destroy all of us.”

Tristan shook his head slowly back and forth. “Faye worshipped you. She turned herself in to protect you just as much as to protect me.”

“Bullshit,” Michelle said. “Faye would never have raised a finger to save my ass. When I saw those pictures, I realized the truth. You used me. You and Faye must have had a grand laugh at my expense.”

“You know nothing of my relationship with Faye.”

“Relationship? You call that little sex-and-vampire act the two of you had going a relationship?”

While Michelle and Tristan were focused on each other, Julia began to scoot along the railing toward the spiral staircase at the far end of the loft. She gritted her teeth at the sharp stabs of muscle pain as her body regained sensation.

Tristan glared at Michelle, his hand reaching inside his pants pocket, eyes sharp with wild intelligence. “You know what? I recruited Faye. I brought her in from the very beginning. Then I told you to recruit her. But she was already on board.” He barked out a laugh. “Faye had as much control over you as you thought you had over her.”

Michelle’s face contorted with rage. “You’re as crazy as she was. I didn’t kill Faye. She voluntarily used the knife I gave her on herself. Why? Because I told her you wanted her to.”

Tristan pulled a butterfly knife out of his pocket, the click-click of metal on metal as he flicked his wrist to unsheathe the blade. Julia bit her tongue to stop a yelp from escaping.

He brought the knife up without hesitation.

“You bitch!” he screamed.

Michelle raised her gun and fired.

Tristan’s body slammed back against the wall, a smear of bright red blood blending with the black ink of the painting behind him. His knife dropped to the floor.

“Perfect,” Michelle said. “I’ll have time to get away after all.” She turned to Julia and smiled.

Julia’s blood ran cold.

THIRTY-TWO

“There are at least three people inside,” said SWAT team leader Tom Blade from his command post in the rear of Tristan Lord’s warehouse/art studio. There were no windows on this side of the building-it was all brick-but Blade had a team up on the roof using an amplified infrared imager to detect body heat inside.

“Let’s go,” Connor said impatiently. Julia had been missing three hours.

“Wait.” Will caught Connor’s eye. “There’s no way to get into the building undetected. They’re on the third floor. They can see the whole open space below them.”

“We can’t just sit here and twiddle our thumbs!”

Blade motioned at the blueprints. “There are skylights here and here. We have men on the roof already and they’re working on unsealing the windows. We can get in here”-he pointed-“on the far side of the third floor.”

Connor stared at the plans. “Why not go in here, on the bottom floor? This doorway is under the third floor. They can’t see anyone, and we’ve already disabled the alarm.”

“There’s no easy way to get to them,” said Blade. “A metal staircase going up. No way to get up there undetected.”

Connor wasn’t sure. “But if they come down, we’ll have the element of surprise.”

Blade thought about it. He was a sharp cop, but had been promoted to the position only six months ago after his boss was killed in the line of duty. Connor suspected Blade was uncomfortable in his role as leader.

Will leaned over and told Connor, “We’ve found Laura Chase.”

“What does she have to say?”

“I should have said we’ve found where she’s been living. Under a new identity: Marisa Wohler. The police in Maine talked to her ex-husband and got her phone number. We traced the number to a Marisa Wohler, then e- crimes traced Wohler. She miraculously appeared eighteen months ago. There was no record of her in San Diego, California, or in the rest of the country prior to November 2005. Get this,” Will added, “she’s been living around the corner from Garrett Bowen’s mansion in Rancho Santa Fe.”

Connor stared at the rear door of the art studio. Two SWAT team members framed the exit. He said to Blade, “Let me go in.”

Before he could answer, a gunshot sounded in the building.

Blade was on the com with his team on the roof. “Do you have a visual?”

“Negative.”

Blade glanced at Connor, then told his team. “Possible hostage situation. Proceed with caution.”

Connor drew his weapon and followed the SWAT team inside. As soon as the door opened, another gunshot sounded.

Julia!

“God, I really hated him.” Michelle was looking contemptuously down at Tristan. Her face showed no emotion, nothing but a mild irritation.

Stumbling, Julia scrambled for the staircase as soon as Michelle turned her back.

“Stop or you’re dead.”

Julia stopped.

“Sit down, against the railing.”

Julia hesitated.

Michelle fired the gun into the ceiling. Dust rained down on Julia and she sat back against the railing. She’d been so close!

“Move back to your original position, Ms. Chandler.”

Reluctantly, Julia did as Michelle commanded.

“Good.” Michelle smiled as if Julia were a prize student.