“Forty minutes ago. We went straight from school to the pool for practice and Darcy approached us in the parking lot and—oh god—he had a gun!” She choked back a sob. “He told S-Summer to come with him or he’d kill me.”

As Rhonda cried, dread prickled down Casey’s spine. Darcy must have stolen a car. She took deep breaths. “Did you call the police?”

“You didn’t hear what Darcy said he’d do to her if I told them anything.”

“When and where does he want the money?”

“I’m to meet him at B-Britannia’s, parking lot at six.”

Casey pictured the parking lot at the Britannia, community center. The skating arena was next to the indoor swimming pool and fitness rooms. Plenty of places to hide. She checked her watch. Four-fifteen.

As Rhonda collapsed against her, guilt overwhelmed Casey. “I should have done more to stop him.”

“How could you? He’s out of control.”

“I know.” Casey told her about this afternoon’s encounter with Darcy and Theo.

Rhonda stood up straight. “That explains the blood on his shirt and the cop cars out front. The shithead didn’t act like he was hurt, though.” She brushed away the tears. “He even told me where I might find you.”

“Lalonde needs to be told, Rhonda.”

“No!”

“It’s all right, I found the money. We’ll get her back.”

“Thank god!” She embraced Casey. “What tape was Darcy talking about?”

“A chat between Dad and Darcy that made it clear Darcy arranged the botulism poisoning. He’d promised Dad an antidote if Dad told him where the money was.”

“If Marcus had told him none of this would have happened!”

“He still would have died. Darcy didn’t have an antidote. Casey started to ease away from Rhonda, but her friend wouldn’t let go.

“I wish I’d known about the impostor,” Rhonda mumbled. “Thought Marcus pretended to forget the past to get rid of me. And when I saw Lillian’s picture on his night table, I . . . I couldn’t handle that.”

Casey pushed herself away from Rhonda. “You were in his bedroom?”

“Once, briefly,” Rhonda’s eyes flashed with anger. “No way in hell would I let Lillian have him again.”

“What do you mean?”

“I fought back.” Rhonda reached for Casey’s hands. “Summer’s Sunday practices are two hours long, so I had time to change into something nice and go see him.” Her lips quivered and her eyes couldn’t quite meet Casey’s. “I always returned in time.”

Casey didn’t want to hear this. She tried to step back, but Rhonda’s grip was firm. “Rhonda, we need to focus on Summer.”

“You have to hear! That man died because of me.” She squeezed Casey’s hands. “The harder I tried to be close to Marcus, the further he pushed me away. So I had a dress made in his favorite color. Wore it that night so he’d see how sophisticated I could be.”

“Stop it!”

“He tried to convince me he wasn’t Marcus. Said he was engaged to some European woman. Then I remembered the invitation Lillian sent.” Anguish twisted Rhonda’s features as she released Casey. “She’d thrown his betrayal in my face. Only it wasn’t betrayal, was it? He really wasn’t Marcus. Marcus loved me. I know that now.”

Sweat trickled down Casey’s sides. Her cheeks burned. “Rhonda, please don’t say anything else. We’ve got to think about Summer.”

Rhonda gazed across the courtyard. “I honestly believed he was Marcus, and when I thought of all the pain he’d caused you, me, and Summer . . .”

“Not now!” The strength drained from Casey’s legs and she grabbed the table. Sand clung to her damp palms. A fake geranium fell on the floor.

“Yes, now! You’re like me. You always need to know why. That’s what Europe was about, right?” Tears dropped from Rhonda’s chin. “Marcus was making supper when I arrived and didn’t want to talk, but I shoved my way in.”

“Shut up!” Casey covered her ears.

“We went into the den,” she murmured. “He said he’d be leaving the country for good.”

Casey lowered her hands. “Rhonda—”

“I asked to use the bathroom and snuck into his bedroom for the second time that month.” Rhonda’s tears trickled down her face. “I saw photos of a woman and Lillian, of course, and wondered how many other women he’d had, and . . .” She dragged her hands down her face. “I don’t know.”

Casey’s heart was trying to pound its way out of her chest. Bile burned her throat.

“I don’t remember going into the kitchen . . . picking up the cleaver. I don’t remember anything until I was in my car, hands on the steering wheel, and then I saw the blood.” Rhonda wiped her hands on her jeans, as if it was still there.

Tears welled up in Casey’s eyes. This was all wrong.

“I went back inside to wash and change clothes,” Rhonda went on. “I was going to clean the cleaver and leave it, but Summer’s practice was almost over, so I brought it home.” She looked nervously at Casey, as if aware of her own irrationality and her helplessness against it.

“How . . . how often did you come here?”

“Three times. I wanted so much to be with Marcus again. To be his glamor lady.”

Glamor lady? She thought of the appliqued picture in Rhonda’s living room. Oh god, the blue sequined dress was an exact replica of the one in the photo. How could Rhonda have lost it like that? How could she have let rage and jealousy drive her to murder? Something else occurred to Casey, a thought that horrified her almost as much as Rhonda’s confession. By finding the dress and hat, she’d probably provided the last bit of evidence needed to convict Rhonda.

“Where’d you get the money for the outfit?”

“Bank loan.” Her quivering smile unnerved Casey. “Told them I needed to renovate.”

“But the dress was at Mother’s place.”

“I took your lock picks while you were at the hospital.”

“You remembered how to use them?”

“Pretty much, though Lillian’s lock gave me problems.” She wrung her hands together. “I followed three young guys into the building. They never gave me a second glance.”

“When exactly were you there?”

“After eleven, while Summer was asleep. I called ahead to see if Lillian and Darcy were there, but no one answered. If they had, I would have told her that you needed to see her urgently. Lillian would have bought it.”

“You took a huge risk.”

“I’ve always taken risks where Lillian’s concerned.”

Casey swiped at the tears trickling down her cheek.

“Before I wore it that night, I kept the dress in a locked trunk under boxes in the basement.” Rhonda wiped her face with the back of her hand. “I was going to burn everything when I could, but when Lillian threatened me, when she said she’d tell Summer the truth about her birth, well, she deserved to be blamed. Your plan to search her place gave me the idea. After you went there, I tried to get hold of Lalonde to let him know you were searching for the dress there, but he wasn’t available so I talked to his assistant.”

Krueger. “Oh, Rhonda.” This was insane.

“My alibi the night of the murder is shaky. I did talk to people at the pool, but then I left. Most of the parents do because the practices are so long.”

“Oh, god.” Casey tried to take deep calming breaths, but it wasn’t working.

“Don’t worry, hon, you won’t have to lie for me. I told you all this because I think Lalonde’s interviewed all of the team’s parents now. One of the moms I’m friendly with called yesterday to let me know he’d contacted her. He probably suspected me all along.” Frightened eyes blinked at her. “He’ll prove I was the killer, won’t he? I mean, there’s no way around this.”

Вы читаете The Opposite of Dark
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