“Do you think you’ll ever outgrow your jealousy?” Lillian asked.
“What was I supposed to be jealous of? You whoring around at fourteen? Cheating on your husband repeatedly and intentionally destroying other people’s happiness? Leaving Casey alone downstairs while you screwed someone’s husband upstairs?”
“You hated that I had Marcus. Admit it.”
“Marcus only became appealing once he stopped martyring himself over a tramp like you. As for your pathetic attempts to be friends again, I always knew what you really wanted.” Rhonda’s eyes blazed. “I know your soul, Lillian. We were inseparable for years, right? All you wanted was to get Casey back in your life and make sure Marcus stayed out of mine.”
Casey drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. She’d never heard so much venom coming from Rhonda. Had her forgiving attitude been an act? Or had the news about the dress set her off?
“Luckily, we won’t have to put up with your garbage much longer,” Rhonda went on. “Casey found the clothes and weapon in your place and handed everything to the cops.”
Casey inhaled sharply. Oh god, why was she saying this?
The cigarette nearly dropped from Lillian’s hand as she turned to Casey. “What clothes?”
Casey tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come.
“The shimmery little number you wore to kill Marcus,” Rhonda blurted. “Or Gustaf, I should say.”
Casey shook her head. Why wouldn’t she keep her mouth shut? “Rhonda, let the police handle—”
“Is that what you and Darcy do for fun now? Shoot and hack people to death?” Rhonda asked. “You need to find a better hobby, hon, ’cause that one really sucks.”
Lillian’s puzzled expression vanished. “I didn’t kill anyone,
Rhonda glanced at Casey. “I told you she was devious.” Her hands curled into fists. “You began setting me up the day you sent me the picture of Marcus.”
“Why did you send the picture?” Casey asked.
Lillian removed what looked like a compact from her purse. When she opened the lid Casey saw a mini- ashtray. “It was just part of the game. I had no idea Rhonda would completely unhinge.” Lillian mashed the cigarette butt in the tray, closed the lid, and dropped it in her purse.
Rhonda laughed. “Smooth, Lillian, but let’s not forget darling Darcy. You planted him in my house, probably to fabricate evidence against me.” She began circling Lillian. “You sent the photo and wedding invitation, which you knew would make me confront Marcus. After all, his betrayal would make a great motive for murder. Now you want to plant suspicion in Casey’s head.”
Lillian looked at Casey. “She’s lying. As I said before, coming here was Darcy’s idea. He thinks you have the money. Since he was here, though, I suggested he look around and see if he could find evidence against Rhonda.”
“He didn’t find anything because there was nothing to find!” Rhonda shouted.
“The tragic part,” Lillian said, “is that you butchered the wrong—”
“When I heard your voice, I went downstairs and called Lalonde before I came in,” Rhonda interrupted. “He’s on his way.”
“I’ll wait for him outside.” Lillian walked to the door.
“If she’s so innocent,” Rhonda said, turning to Casey, “why’s she taking off the moment I mention cops?”
As Lillian started to leave, Rhonda grabbed her arm and hauled her backward. “You’re not getting away that easy!”
In an effort to break free, Lillian dropped her handbag. Rhonda held her arm with both hands.
“Stop it!” Casey jumped up from the window seat. “Both of you!”
Lillian kicked Rhonda in the shin and jerked her arm free. She grabbed Rhonda’s hair and pulled her head back. Rhonda collapsed onto her knees, wrapped her arms around Lillian’s legs and attempted to take her feet out from under her. Lillian hit Rhonda on the side of her head, knocking her over. Grabbing her bag, Lillian ran out of the apartment. Rhonda stumbled to the door, her eyes wild, hair twisted in all directions.
“Don’t worry, she won’t get away.” Rhonda wiped her face with her sleeve. “The bitch will finally get what she deserves.”
Casey’s stomach churned so fast she thought she’d be sick.
Twenty-nine
CASEY DIDN’T TRY to follow Mother. Rhonda did, and probably had her in a headlock by now. Curled up in the window seat, Casey tried to understand what Rhonda had said, to make sense of the intensity of her rage. Mother had been right about one thing. Rhonda wasn’t herself these days. But Mother had been totally off base to accuse her of murder. Did she really think Rhonda could afford a sequined gown? If she’d done her homework, Mother would have known that Rhonda was at Summer’s swim practice when Gustaf was killed.
Police sirens grew louder. Casey didn’t want to hear Rhonda’s version of events. Besides, three million dollars needed to be found before more people died. She fetched the blueprints and hurried to her car.
Eager to avoid Rhonda and the police, Casey started the engine and cruised down the back lane. Five seconds later, cold metal pressed against her neck and she gasped.
“Oh!” She hit the brakes.
The metal pressed harder. “Drive,” a familiar voice ordered.
In the rearview mirror she saw Darcy’s grim face.
“You should clean your car more often.” He tossed her sleeping bag and pillow to the side.
Her heart tried to leap up her throat. “How’d you get in with a cop here?”
“He’s having a little nap. Now drive.”
Sweat beaded along her lower back. “Where to?”
“The Marine Drive house.” He lifted the blueprints off the passenger’s seat. “Where’d you get these?”
“Gislinde Van Akker.”
“I was right. Money’s in the house.” Darcy reached over and dumped her purse’s contents on the seat. “Where’s the tape?”
“Tape?”
Once again, he pressed the weapon against the back of her neck. “You like Mozart, Casey?”
“Theo has it.”
Darcy thumped the side of her head with the pistol. “Wrong answer.”
Wincing, she struggled to stay calm. What in hell had Theo told him? “It’s in my safe-deposit box, I swear.” She eased the vehicle forward. “I was on my way to the house to try and find the money.”
“Well, sweet thing, if I don’t get the cash and tape today, I’ll kill Summer and make Rhonda watch. Or maybe I’ll kill Rhonda and make Summer watch.”
Casey gripped the steering wheel so hard her fingers ached. She turned right onto Commercial Drive. “The police think you killed Simone Archambault.”
“I didn’t kill the old broad, Theo did. He came to Lillian’s place after it happened and told her while I was listening in the bedroom.”
“Why would Theo murder Simone, then drop by to tell Mother?”
“He needed Lil to give him an alibi. Anyway, if I wanted the old girl dead, I would have shot her. Think about that.”
How long had he been carrying the pistol? “Mother came by a few minutes ago. Did you see her?”
“I was focusing on that cop in your yard.” Darcy paused. “What’d she want?”
“To apologize for things that happened in the past.” Casey turned left onto Venables.
“She did, did she?” He leaned a little closer. “Does Lil know about the tape?”
“We didn’t discuss it,” Casey lied, “only talked about her and me.” She prayed Darcy believed her. If he found out she’d told her . . .
“What about you, Casey? Did you have a nice long listen to the tape?”
