“I see her,” I said stiffly. “I can find my way.”
There was a glass of wine on the table in front of her, and a MacNaughton’s and water at the place on the other side of the table. She was still wearing the blue suit. The Adidas bag lay in her lap. A lump rose in my throat. It was all I could do to speak. “Hello,” I managed.
“Hello, Beau. I’m glad you came.”
A thousand questions should have tumbled out one after another. Instead I looked around the room, J. P. Beaumont, the cop, looking over the lay of the land, looking for cover, for trajectories, for who would be hurt in a hail of bullets. “Let me help you, Anne,” I pleaded.
“You already have.”
My anger blazed to the surface. “I’ve helped you, all right, led you to three more victims.”
She had held my gaze steadily. For the first time she looked down. My hand sought the safety of the.357 in case she reached into the bag. She raised her eyes. “I made a mistake with Brodie and the woman. Even so, they deserved to die.”
“Annie! You had no right to judge them. You’re not a jury. They were innocent of a capital crime. Child abuse is a felony but it’s not premeditated murder.”
“I was evening the score, an eye for an eye.” She looked at me defiantly, daring me to take exception to what she said. “I listened to the tape,” she continued. “I found it in the table drawer after you and Peters left. It was strange hearing it. Athletes must feel that way when they see an instant replay. I thought there would be something in it that would point to me.”
“We’d have been better off if there had been,” I said.
It was all coming together now, all the missing pieces. “And the phone call I overheard was from Tom Stahl at the phone company? That’s when you discovered your mistake?”
“Yes, but I’m not sorry I killed them, if that’s what you mean.” There was no hint of remorse about her.
“What did you put in the last chapter, Anne? You told me I couldn’t read the book because you had given it to Ralph, but he didn’t get the manuscript until this morning. He was planning to read it on the plane.”
“I wasn’t sure how it would end. I wasn’t sure until I saw you walk through the door. I didn’t know if you’d come.”
“And now you know?”
“Yes, don’t you?”
It was like we were playing a game, some private guessing game that had nothing to do with life and death. The people sitting around us had no idea that the attractive couple chatting earnestly in the corner near the window had enough firepower between them to lay waste a roomful of people.
I knew how I was afraid it would end. She was absolutely without fear or compunction. I couldn’t let that happen, not at such close quarters, not in a crowd of defenseless Sunday afternoon diners. “Come with me, Anne. Let me take you in. No jury in the country would convict you.”
“An insanity plea?” Her voice was full of bitter derision. “You know where they’d send me, don’t you? Have you ever been in one of those places? Do you know what goes on?”
“Anne, I’ll stick by you. I’ll see that you get the help you need. In sickness and in health, remember? That’s what we said. This is sickness.” I was pleading for my life as well as hers.
“You wouldn’t be there at night when the orderlies came. Even Milton couldn’t stop that. I had to have an abortion, you know. He paid for it. He didn’t cause it, but he couldn’t prevent it either.”
“What about Milton, Anne? Did he commit suicide?”
“He was scared of what the cancer was doing to him.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“No,” she said softly. “He didn’t commit suicide.”
I heard the words and knew they were the truth. “My God, Anne, you told me you loved him.”
“I did.”
The toll kept rising. I didn’t want to know any more, but I was unable to stop the questions. They are too much a part of me, waking and sleeping. “Why your father?”
“The things he did to Patty were terrible, not once, but over and over. I tried to stop him, but my mother wouldn’t let me. I should have killed her too, but I never got a chance. I think she knew it. That’s why she never let me out. It was only after she died that Milton was able to get me released.”
“What about the book?”
“It’s a collection. Until now, I was the only one who knew the rest of the story, things that happened after the fact.”
“All over the country?”
She nodded. “It happens everywhere,” she said.
“How long have you been doing this, Anne? How long have you been a one-woman avenger? How many J. P. Beaumont suckers are there in this world?”
“I’ve been a widow for ten years,” she said.
“And no one’s ever caught you?”
“I never wanted to be caught.”
The waitress came to take our order. “The gentleman isn’t feeling well. We won’t be eating after all. If I could just have the bill.” She laid a twenty on the table as a tip.
Until she saw the size of the tip, I think the waitress was prepared to be upset. She pocketed the twenty. “Thank you very much,” she said, smiling.
The interruption allowed a new train of thought. “Where’d you get the bike? The owner left town in March.”
“St. Vincent de Paul’s over on Fairview.”
“Where’d you keep it?”
“In the parking garage of the building right behind the Royal Crest. It was just one night.”
“And you got it out after I fell asleep?”
She nodded.
“What about Kincaid?”
“After the man from the phone company called, I went to Auburn and found his house. He had a black van.”
“It could have been the wrong man.”
“He wasn’t. He confessed. I didn’t want to make the same mistake twice.” She paused. “Is that all you wanted to know?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. There was nothing else. I knew far more than I wanted to.
“Let’s finish this outside, Beau. It’s too crowded in here.”
With catlike grace, she picked up the Adidas bag and walked outside.
Chapter 25
I know how Pharoah felt trying to catch Moses as he disappeared into the Red Sea. Anne Corley Beaumont melted through the vestibule crowd the same way, leaving me pushing and shoving, trying to catch up. When I finally hit the outside door, I made a dash for the Porsche, expecting to see her speeding away. The Porsche sat empty, untouched.
The roar of the falls filled my head. I kept my hand on the gun without drawing it. This could be a trap, I reminded myself. I was dealing with Anne Corley the enemy. She had enough of a head start that she could easily have hidden herself away and be lying in wait. Even then I could have gone back inside and called for help, for a backup, but I didn’t. Stubborn, stupid, I thought I could talk to her, persuade her to turn herself in.
Cautiously I made my way around the restaurant. In a heap near one corner of the building I found the blouse, suit, shoes, and discarded Adidas bag. Up the path, heading toward the observation area, I caught a glimpse of red. She had changed into the jogging suit. Any advantage I had because of dress was instantly nullified.
