Pearl turned in horror to see Michael Sutcliffe emerging from the storage aisles. He was pale and distraught, with dark circles around his eyes, as if he had been awake for days.
“Michael,” Pearl said with a gasp. “Michael, what are you doing here? How long have you been here?”
“Long enough to hear the truth,” he said. “Long enough to know my entire life’s been a fraud. I’m the one who killed that man in the woods,” he said. “I’m the one who killed my real father.”
Pearl stood frozen in disbelief, staring at Michael.
“Oh, yes.” He glared at her with hatred. “I came across him in Briarwood Park one night, after I’d followed Savannah to Patrick Middleton’s house. He was stumbling and drunk and mumbling crazy stuff, saying I wasn’t entitled to the Sutcliffe inheritance, that I wasn’t James Sutcliffe’s real son. That I was his son. Then he pulled a photograph from his pocket and pointed to a man in military uniform. He said the man was him when he was younger, and didn’t I see the likeness between us.” He shrieked. “Good god, he looked just like me!”
He scowled with disgust as he aimed the gun at Pearl. “And then he told me you confessed it to him, told him the truth about who I really was. He said he was going to the police and tell them, then to the trustees. I knew Savannah was only marrying me for the money, that she’d only stay with me for the money. And my life’s nothing without her and the Sutcliffe name. I … I didn’t know what to do. And then—and then suddenly, I had the chance to kill him.”
He cocked the gun and swallowed hard. “Savannah’s left me. She said the two of you had a talk, agreed it was best to end the engagement.”
“And it is best. Savannah doesn’t care for you. You deserve better than her.”
Michael narrowed his reddened eyes at her. “There were only two things I loved in this world. The Sutcliffe name and Savannah. And now they’re both gone because of you.”
“But no one knows about your real identity but Harley, and we can get rid of her. You can still have your money, your name.”
His face tightened in anger as he placed his finger on the gun’s trigger. “I don’t care about the money if I don’t have Savannah.”
“If you really want her back,” Pearl said, “we’ll get her back, I promise. I’ll figure out a way. Then once we’ve gotten rid of Harley here, everything will settle back to the way it was before.”
“Oh, the police aren’t stupid. Even if we do kill Harley, they’ll still find out who I really am. That I’m not really Michael Sutcliffe.” He narrowed his eyes at Pearl, squeezing the gun. “You’re the one who’s caused all of this. You’re the one who deserves to die.”
The gun fired, and Harley leaped, knocking Pearl to the floor beneath her. But she hit her head on the side of a table, and the room was spinning.
The last thing Harley saw was Jed Turner breaking down the door and tackling Michael Sutcliffe to the floor. Her final thoughts, as the room dimmed and the sound of Beau Arson’s music lilted into silence, was that Pearl Johnson was alive, that she would have to account for what she had done, that the truth would finally be known.