1
At dusk Nicole was still pacing around the living room, stunned by the buried knowledge her dream had revealed. Her gentle, gun-hating father had intended to kill Magaro and Zand. What was his plan? To leave his hotel in Dallas and drive to San Antonio, kill Zand and Magaro, then drive back to Dallas and be there for his morning meeting? It could be easily done. Dallas was less than two hundred miles from San Antonio. And the police had verified that he was seen in the hotel at ten o’clock in the evening, and again the next morning at eight. His plan would have worked, but he hadn’t counted on seeing his daughter in Basin Park. That had stopped him from committing murder.
Or had it? Had he taken her home, put her to bed, and gone back to finish the job? Would Zand and Magaro have still been there? Would he have been able to find the gun again? Would he have set up Paul to look like the murderer?
She sat down, twisting her hands in her lap. What should she do with this knowledge? Call Ray? Would it diffuse his certainty that Paul was a killer? Maybe. It would also cast a terrible light on her father.
But there was a third person out there that night. She’d seen the silhouette. Could she identify that person? No. Could she prove that person had murdered Magaro and Zand after she and her father left? No. If Ray even believed her story about the third person, he would probably think it was Paul.
She was certain it wasn’t. So who was it? Carmen, as Lisa believed? Nicole concentrated on the memory. The person had been taller than she, and certainly heavier, but beyond that she could remember nothing. Could it have been Bobby, wanting only to kill Magaro because he was forcing Zand to kick him out of The Zanti Misfits? But why would he have killed Zand? Could that murder have been an accident? Or could it have simply been an unknown, crazy person who’d seen her father drop the gun and seized an opportunity?
Abruptly Nicole realized she had a splitting headache. She went into the kitchen, downing two more aspirin as she glanced out the window. It was dark now. She’d been pacing and thinking for over an hour, and she still didn’t have any answers.
She went back and lay on the couch, waiting for the aspirin to take effect, glad Shelley wasn’t here to see her in this condition. Would her life ever return to normal? Would this mystery ever be solved? Or would she end up in prison?
She was still lying in the dark when the phone rang. Oh, no, she thought. How can I possibly sound normal if it’s Shelley or Ray?
Nicole rolled off the couch and stumbled into the kitchen, banging her knee on the coffee table along the way. “Hello?”
A moment of silence spun out. Finally Paul said in a raspy, pain-ridden voice, “Nicole, come to the Mission San Juan. I need you.”
Then the line went dead.
2
Nicole stood holding the phone for a few seconds. What could have happened? Had she led someone to Paul less than twenty-four hours ago?
Without hesitation, she bolted for the bedroom, and nearly tore off her suit. Within minutes she was in jeans and a sweater. She pulled a jacket over her clothes, stuffed her gun in the pocket, then picked up the bedroom phone and called the taxi company, once again directing them to pick her up on the street behind hers as soon as possible.
As she ran through the darkened living room, she remembered Ray saying the night Avis had been murdered, the patrolman outside had seen her moving around inside: The men sent to watch her were clearly alerted to survey for normal light patterns, and here it was pitch-dark, not one light glowing in the living room. Quickly she went around, turning on lamps and even the television. She pulled back the sheer curtains, looking outside, just in case he was looking back and could see her face. Then she drew one set of draperies. All looked normal for eight-thirty on a week night.
Next she went to the basement and retrieved her ladder. She went out the back door and propped the ladder against the fence. Two minutes later the ladder lay in the backyard of the empty house, and she had made another successful drop to the ground. She arrived at the sidewalk just as the taxi pulled up.
“The Mission San Juan,” she said, climbing into the backseat.
The driver turned around. “Not again!”
Nicole looked at him. “Good lord, what are the chances of getting the same taxi driver two nights in a row?”
“Slim. Look, lady, I told you I don’t like it out there.”
“Didn’t I pay you double last night? Didn’t you make more than you would have in a normal night?”
“Yeah,” he said grudgingly.
“Did any harm come to you?”
“Well, no.”
“Then what’s the problem? I’ll pay double the fare again tonight. You could use the extra money, couldn’t you?”
“Okay.” He shook his head. “But if you’re havin’ an affair, lady, I’d suggest you find a better place like everyone else. This is weird.”
“Please just drive. I’m in a hurry.”
“You’re always in a hurry. I’d sure like to know what this guy’s got goin’ for him. No woman would do this for me.”
You’re not Paul Dominic, she thought. I’d do anything for Paul if he needed me.
But what could be wrong? Nicole asked herself as they crossed the city, this trip slower than the last one because it was earlier in the evening. If someone had caught up with Paul, why would they be holding him at the mission? It certainly couldn’t be the police or Paul would be in custody. What about Miguel? Carmen? Maybe even Lisa or Bobby?
But perhaps Paul wasn’t being held at all. Maybe he’d been badly hurt and taken refuge at the mission instead of going to a hospital, which would be too dangerous. If that were the case, though, why hadn’t he gone to his mother’s? Fear of Rosa? And what could she do for him?
After what seemed an interminable ride, they finally arrived at the mission. “Don’t tell me,” the driver said. “You want me to wait.”
“Yes. Do I have to pay up to this point?” Nicole asked.
“No. You were good for the fare last night. I guess I trust you.”
Thank heavens, Nicole thought, remembering she only had ten dollars in her purse and no checkbook. He’d have to wait until she returned home to get paid.
She jumped out of the cab, passed through an opening in the stone walls, and crossed the grounds. The tall wooden cross looked more stark and rough than it had last night. She stopped. Something was different. It was the light. The cross wasn’t bathed in only the softening sheen of moonlight. She looked toward the church to see light flickering through the open doorway. There must be a special event tonight because the church was open. In that case, she had to be extra careful.
Nicole ran to the ruins of the unfinished church where she had met Paul last night. Moonlight played over the statue of Jesus holding the baby in one arm. Someone had placed a bouquet of flowers in the statue’s free hand. Slowly she went into the first room on the left, which she knew had been intended as the baptistery. No Paul.
She searched all the rooms of the ruins, then went outside. “Jordan?” she called softly, hoping the dog would come to her again and lead her to Paul. But the dog didn’t appear.
Next Nicole went to the hospedería, or guest lodgings, but to no avail. She emerged again onto the open grounds. Where could he be? The historical museum was closed. Only the church remained open.
Music floated from the open door. Gregorian chants, beautiful and haunting. And loud. Then it hit her. If there were a special event going on, where were the cars in the parking lot? There were no cars, no sign of activity. Paul was in the church. It was the only place left. But he certainly wouldn’t turn on lights and play loud music.
He wasn’t alone, she thought with a chill. Someone had him.
Nicole approached the door slowly, afraid to go in, afraid not to. Finally, getting a firm grip on the gun in her pocket, she stepped inside.
She’d always thought the inside of the church was beautiful, although outside it was the most austere of the missions. The walls were snowy white, the ceiling high and lined with rough beams. A simple circular chandelier decorated with only six candles hung high above. But the altar was magnificent, with its crimson hangings, golden pillars, vividly colored religious statues, and more candles. Fresh baskets of poinsettias sat beneath a delicate, lacy white altar cloth.
To her right on a table, votive candles burned. All of them, nearly fifty. The music soared, filling the old church with the reverent, perfectly pitched a cappella voices.
“Paul?” Nicole called over the music. “Paul, are you here?”
At first there was nothing but the sound of the chants. Then she heard it. Groans. Someone kicking the wooden floor near the front of the church.
Slowly she moved forward, still holding the gun in her pocket. How strange that felt. To be in a church, holding a gun.
Another groan sounded at the front of the church. Nicole bolted forward, then stopped. A man rose up from behind the altar. He held a battered, gagged Paul. He was also holding a gun to Paul’s temple.
“Ray?” Nicole’s voice was high with disbelief. “Ray, what are you doing?”
“I knew you’d come if he asked you. You still love him, don’t you? After all this time.” Nicole went hollow inside. “He wouldn’t make the call,” Ray said. “He wouldn’t lure you out here. Not even when I got…persuasive. So I had to imitate his voice again.”
“Again?”
Ray lapsed into a perfect imitation of Paul’s voice. “Nicole, come to the Mission San Juan. I need you.”
Suddenly Nicole remembered Paul saying he would never call her because he was afraid her phone was tapped. She also remembered Ray imitating Izzy Dooley’s girlfriend’s voice. Obviously he had a faculty for mimicry. How many times had he used it?
“Ray?” Nicole asked, feeling as if the words were coming from someone else. “Did you call me pretending to be Magaro?”
“Yes. After Dominic hit me, I made the call on my cell phone when I regained consciousness. Scared you, didn’t I?”
Nicole was shivering, but her voice was steady. “You’re the person behind all of these murders, aren’t you?”
He looked at her nonchalantly. “Certainly, Nicole.”
Horror engulfed her. How many times had he sat in her living room, offering comfort, delivering bad news with soft words and kind eyes? She’d believed in him. She’d considered a relationship with him when this ordeal was over. This ordeal he’d created. But she knew it would be a mistake to let him see her revulsion. Somehow she knew he would expect surprise, even be pleased by it, but he wouldn’t tolerate revulsion.
She swallowed. “So you’re responsible for the murders lately, but not fifteen years ago. You didn’t kill Zand and Magaro.”
“Oh, yes, them, too.”
“Them, too?” she echoed in shock. “Why?”
“Because they hurt you.”
“Because they hurt me? Ray, you didn’t even know me.”
“Yes, I did. Sort of.” He smiled sweetly. “You don’t recognize me, do you?” Nicole slowly shook her head. “You don’t remember Rosa’s son, Juan?”
Nicole’s mind spun back over the years. The shy teenager, always darting out of the way, never meeting her eyes. And Rosa’s last name was DeSoto. She hadn’t thought of that for years. Besides, there were so many DeSotos in the area. “You’re Rosa’s son?” she repeated dumbly. “But your name…”
“Raymond Juan DeSoto.” He smiled. “Don’t feel so bad. Paul here didn’t recognize me, either, did you, Paul?”
He tore the gag from Paul’s mouth. Dried blood streaked down from a corner. One eye was circled with purple, and his right cheek bore a long cut. “No,” he croaked.
“How about that?” Ray said, smiling. “Didn’t even recognize his own brother.”
Paul’s head jerked toward him and Ray pushed the gun harder against his temple. “Be still,” Ray hissed.
“What are you talking about?” Nicole asked. “Paul doesn’t have a brother.”
“Not one that he knows about. Not a full brother. I’m the product of an affair the saintly Alicia Dominic had when Paul was about twelve.”
My God, Nicole thought. She had considered that the affair with Javier resulted in a child, but she’d thought that child might possibly be Miguel Perez because he looked so much like Paul. There was no resemblance between Paul and Ray besides dark hair.
“Alicia doesn’t think I know,” Ray went on, “but I’ve always known. She was too religious to have an abortion, so she found a woman who was an illegal immigrant and promised that if she’d pretend the child were hers, she’d pull strings to get the woman’s citizenship papers along with giving her a permanent home in a mansion. She and Rosa left San Antonio, Alicia supposedly for Europe. Actually, they were both in California. Shortly after Alicia had me, giving her name as Rosa DeSoto in the hospital, she came home. Three months later Rosa showed up with a baby and was hired as the housekeeper.”
“The other one,” Alicia had said. Ray was “the other one,” the son of Javier.
“I don’t believe you,” Paul grated out.
“Well, it’s true.” Ray jerked him and Paul cried out. Obviously his left arm was broken. His face paled, and Nicole saw the gleam of sweat on it. “Not that I was ever treated like your brother. Oh, I lived in the same house, but I was kept away from you as much as possible. Your mother was always afraid some resemblance between us might show up. That’s why you’ve never recognized me. You left home at fifteen—I was only three—and when you were back on visits, I was ordered to stay out of your way. That was part of it, anyway. The other part was that your mother, my mother, could barely stand to look at me. I was a reminder of her great sin. Rosa told me that one night when she’d had too much to drink. She drinks in secret, you know.”
Nicole thought of Alicia’s words: “God made me pay…I tried to make amends, but it didn’t work because I was still lying, still hiding.”
“Oh, materially she did all the right things,” Ray continued sarcastically. “Saw that I was well dressed, sent me to a good college. But Rosa! The woman is a sadist. She hated me. She tortured me in a hundred little ways. One day I gathered all my courage and told Alicia. I even showed her the bruises on my arms from Rosa’s vicious pinching. You know what your wonderful mother did, Paul? She averted her eyes and said, ‘You probably got those playing. Don’t be so imaginative, Juan.’ She knew, but she didn’t care. All her attention was focused on her golden boy, the legitimate one, the talented one. I abhorred you, Paul. I always have.”
Nicole closed her eyes, still unable to believe what she was hearing, yet knowing it was true. “You were in Basin Park the night my father went there to kill Zand and Magaro.”
Ray gave her a coy look. “Oh, you remembered! Or did you really know about your father all along?”
“I just remembered this afternoon.”
“How convenient that you’d remember today of all days. Yes, I was there. I simply picked up your father’s gun and killed them.”
“And the hanging and the hoods?”
“He’d brought the rope and the hoods, too. Didn’t you see that in your dream? I think he wanted to make it look like a ritual killing. I just followed the plan, only I knew people would think it was the kind of macabre thing Paul might do.”
“The shirt,” Paul rasped.
“I had access to your clothes, so I wrapped the murder weapon in your shirt. I knew you didn’t have an alibi. You were lying around in your music room, listening to yourself on that damned tape and pining over Nicole. Alicia was in the hospital. She couldn’t provide an alibi. Dear Rosa was closeted in her room, as usual, reading those smutty romances and drinking.”
“So you left the house and no one knew,” Nicole said.
“I left the house every night. It was the only time I had to do what I wanted, my only freedom. I knew where Dominic’s secret key was under the urn. I hung out with Zand and Magaro. They liked me because occasionally I’d bring them a bottle of wine I’d sneaked out of the house. When they were high, they told me what they’d done to you, Nicole. Magaro kept giggling about calling you ‘little bird.’ He thought that was hilarious. I pretended to think it was funny, too. That’s why they didn’t panic when I came up to them that night. They thought I was just some seventeen-year-old fan. They called me Ray, but they had no idea who I really was or where I lived. They just enjoyed having me around, seeming to worship them.” Ray laughed harshly. “All along I thought they were a couple of pigs.”
Nicole still held the gun in her pocket. She took a small step closer to the altar. “Ray, you said you killed them because of me.”
“Yes. The beautiful Nicole who never looked twice at me because she was too dazzled by Paul. But I looked at you. I wanted you more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life except Dominic’s destruction.”
“You didn’t know me. You only wanted me because I was Paul’s.”
“That was part of it. The rest was just you. I loved the way you looked, the way you moved, the way you talked. Everything.”
“So you punished those who hurt me and tried to destroy Paul at the same time. But what about now?” Nicole’s vision darkened for a moment as an awful thought struck her. “Ray, did you murder my father?” she asked shakily.
He blinked at her. “Nicole, I told you it was suicide.”
“You told me a lot of things.”
“Yes, but that was true. Suicide isn’t as easy to fake as it is on television. And I had that damned Waters along with me. He would have picked up on the fact that it wasn’t really suicide, even if I had murdered your father and tried to cover it up.”
“But you sent Dad the letters and the photo of Paul?”
“Yes. When I heard you were back in San Antonio, I knew fate had brought you back to me. But there were so many people around you. I was trying to figure out what to do about your husband when he did it for me.” Ray laughed. “Stupid fool. But there was still your father. You were crazy about him. So I decided to slowly make him fall apart by reminding him of what he’d done.”
“He didn’t kill Zand and Magaro!” Nicole shouted.
“No. But he was there that night. He saw someone else. He looked right into my face, Nicole. He didn’t know who I was, but he knew I wasn’t Dominic. But did he come forward after Paul’s arrest? Did he admit the gun was his? Did he say he’d seen someone else out there? Did he do anything to deflect suspicion from Dominic? No.”
Nicole felt sick. Ray was clearly unbalanced, but he was right about her father. Clifton Sloan wasn’t a murderer, but he hadn’t done anything to save Paul.
“I couldn’t murder him because no one would believe you would kill him,” Ray said. “I hoped he’d just crack up and admit what he’d done. That would certainly have damaged your love for him. Instead he killed himself. That turned out to be fortunate, though. It got rid of him and brought me into your life.”
“Yes, how fortunate,” Nicole said weakly. “But if he really did commit suicide, why didn’t he leave a suicide note?”
“He did. It was a full confession of what happened fifteen years ago. I didn’t want suspicion shifted from Dominic. Fortunately, the note had slipped under the desk. I found it and tucked it in my pocket when Waters wasn’t looking. It’s easy to fool Waters about little things.”
A note. Her mother had been crushed because Clifton hadn’t even left a note to explain why he’d done such a terrible thing. His confession would have been shocking, but at least it would have been an explanation, because Nicole was certain her mother didn’t know what had happened that night fifteen years ago. But Ray had hidden it. Hatred for him rose up in her like gall. But she wouldn’t show it She couldn’t. Right now she had to concentrate on trying to save herself and Paul.
Nicole took a deep breath and another small step forward. “You said no one would believe I killed my father. But your goal was to make everyone believe I killed those other people?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“So you’d turn to me because I’d be the only one who believed you. Then I would become your protector and you’d fall in love with me.”
“But you didn’t count on Paul returning.”
Ray hesitated, a fretful look passing over his face. “No. Oh, I knew he wasn’t dead. Rosa told me she’d caught glimpses of him at the house over the years. She still hates me, but she’s also afraid of me.” He smiled with satisfaction. “You see, she’s always suspected I was the one who killed Zand and Magaro. She knew Paul didn’t have the guts to do it. But she wouldn’t say anything because I knew her immigration papers were faked. She made a big mistake telling me that. But Dominic coming back turned out my way, too. No one else believed you when you claimed he was in San Antonio. Everyone thought you’d flipped after Roger left you and your father committed suicide. But I believed you. You appreciated me for that.”
“Yes, I did.”
“And it tarnished Dominic’s image in your eyes. You were suddenly afraid he did murder Magaro and Zand and had come back to murder you in revenge for what happened to him.”
“Yes. But only for a while.”
Ray’s smile faded. “So I saw for myself last night. You know, it always bothered me that you kept such a physical distance between us. You never even kissed me, but I told myself you had too much propriety to throw yourself in another man’s arms when your husband had left less than two months ago.
“Then I saw you with Dominic here at the mission, and I knew I was wrong. You didn’t have any trouble throwing yourself in his arms, not even after all this time, after all your suspicions of him. I’ll bet you never even gave me a thought.”
“That’s not true, Ray.”
“After all I did for you. Hell, I even offered to invent an alibi for you for the Smith woman’s death. But it didn’t make any difference. You didn’t care about me. No one has ever cared about me.”
“That’s not true. I did care. If it weren’t for Paul—”
“If it weren’t for Paul, what? You would have been in my bed before long? You would have married me after your divorce?”
“I don’t know, Ray. I couldn’t see that far into the future.”
“I can.” The flickering candles cast shadows on Ray’s face, making him look gaunt and hollow-eyed. “It wouldn’t have happened. You would have used me to help you. Then you would have forgotten I existed.”
“That’s not true.” Nicole took another small step forward, as if she were genuinely agonized by Ray’s words. “I would never have forgotten what you did for me, and our relationship could have become romantic.” It sickened her, but she had to add the following sentence. “It still can.”
Ray sneered at her. “Do you think I want you now, after what I saw last night?”
“What did you see, Ray? Me hugging someone I hadn’t seen for years, someone I once loved, someone I realized hadn’t done anything to hurt me? Is that such a terrible thing? Besides, how did you know I was meeting Paul here?”
“When you had your little fainting spell after I told you about the Smith woman, I saw the postcard with the mail and read it. I watched that night to see what you’d do. I know you so well, I even figured you’d go over the back fence. But as for your simply hugging someone you once loved, you must think I’m a fool. You didn’t just hug him. You kissed him. Passionately. It was like something out of some damned corny movie. It nauseated me. And I stopped caring about you, Nicole. Right then and there, I stopped caring.”
His coldness in the office earlier that day when Waters was questioning her so relentlessly. He’d been furious. Then later he’d decided that in order not to make her suspicious of him, he’d better smooth things over, so he’d called and lied to her about the officer seeing her moving around in the living room. She knew now it was a lie because she remembered that between ten and twelve, when Avis was killed, she’d been in bed.
“So, Ray, what’s the plan?” Nicole asked. “What are you going to do with us?”
“You’ll both be found here, dead. Dominic, of course, managed to lure you here.”
“How could he do that if I’m supposed to be afraid of him?”
“We have Carmen to attest to the fact that you’d stopped fearing him. Or, since she’s now convinced you’re off your rocker, she might claim you came out here to kill Dominic. In any case, there will be a record that a call was placed to your house from here. Obviously it was from Dominic. We also have the cab driver who will testify that he brought you out here.”
Nicole was close enough now to see that Paul’s eyes were red-rimmed. He looked shockingly pale and exhausted. Obviously Ray had grabbed him last night, after she’d left. He’d been a prisoner all day. And he’d been beaten. Badly.
Her hand clenched around the gun in her pocket. “Ray, you never finished telling me what your plan for us is.”
“Dominic will kill you, and I’ll kill Dominic. I’ll probably get a commendation for it.”
“Paul will kill me with your gun? That won’t work.”
Ray looked disgusted. “No, Nicole. The gun I’m holding to Paul’s head, the gun that will kill you, isn’t mine. It came from the Dominic house. And by the way, you might as well take your hand out of your pocket. I know you have your gun in there, but it isn’t loaded.”
Color drained from her face. “You unloaded it?”
“Yes, today. I pick locks, remember? I was in your house.”
Anger soared in her. “You thought of everything, didn’t you? You even planted the money in Dooley’s apartment.”
“I didn’t plant it. A couple of years ago I destroyed evidence and saved Dooley from a murder charge. He owed me, but I paid him anyway. I told him I wanted you killed, and I told him what lie to tell Jewel about how he got the money. I had him follow you. He let me know you were on the River Walk. I ordered him to rough you up and get your purse, that’s all. Later he was to go to your house and murder you. Meanwhile, I smashed that padlock and let Jesse out. When I took you home, I searched the house to make sure all was safe, remember? Only while I was in the basement, I unlocked a window and pulled a chest underneath it.”
“But why did you put a patrolman outside? That only made things more dangerous.”
“That was unfortunate. Erwin, the officer who questioned you after your attack on the River Walk, likes to make women uncomfortable to their faces, but underneath he has this disgusting soft streak. He dispatched Abbott. He spotted a man walking toward your house. He was starting to get out of the cruiser, so I walked up to him like I had nothing to hide, and I killed him. I had no choice. Then I came into the house via the window and waited for Dooley. It was always my plan to kill him before he got to you. Simple.”
“But you didn’t count on Newton Wingate seeing you.”
“He saw someone talking to Abbot. Someone with long dark hair. So did those kids who spotted somebody messing around with Roger’s car. Long dark hair. Like Dominic’s.”
“A wig.”
“Sure.” He sighed. “The only thing that went wrong was Jewel. That idiot Dooley told her who really gave him the money. She stuck to the story, but I could tell she knew the truth by the way she looked at me when Waters and I questioned her. I tried to kill her, but I wasn’t successful.”
Nicole released her grip on the gun. If it were unloaded, what good was it except as an object to strike him with? Ray, on the other hand, had at least two loaded guns. All she could think of to do at the moment was to keep talking.
“But why didn’t you kill Roger like you did the others?”
“Roger had an annoying habit of never being alone. He’s always with his girlfriend. I had to find another method. It didn’t quite work, but it didn’t matter. Things still looked bad for you, and you came running to me. Just what I wanted.” He signed. “So much planning. So much energy. I thought it was worth it I thought you were worth it.” He gave her a piercing stare. “But you aren’t.”
“What if I hadn’t met Paul last night? What if your feelings for me hadn’t changed? I would surely have been arrested, maybe even found guilty of the murders.”
“No. I knew I could lure out Paul when the time was right. Then I would kill him. And there was evidence to link him to the crimes. He’d been in his mother’s house, remember? I’d told Rosa to be on the lookout for any signs of Dominic. She did a pretty good job. Fear will sharpen the senses, you know. By now she’s scared stiff of me. She knew if she didn’t come up with something, she might not live long. She got strands of Dominic’s hair from Alicia’s bedspread. They would match the strands found on Dooley’s shirt, where I’d placed them. Dominic had also cut himself shaving in his mother’s bathroom. He didn’t do a very good job of cleaning up. Rosa found the blood. She had sense enough to save traces for me, which I added some water to and put on the broken window in the Simon-Smith woman’s door. You didn’t know about this evidence, of course, but you were always fairly much in the clear. I couldn’t have provided an alibi for you by claiming to have a long phone conversation with you between ten-thirty and eleven-thirty the night I killed the Smith woman.”
“I know. Phone records.”
Ray smirked at her. “Very good. Catching on at last.”
“But what about the prowler in the wolf mask?”
“Dooley.”
“Where did he get the mask?”
“Rosa bought it for herself. I took it. Then I called Bobby and told him if anyone asked, he was to say Lisa bought it”
“Then Carmen wasn’t lying,” Nicole said with a wave of guilt.
“No. She told you what Bobby told her. She always told you the truth, but I wanted you to doubt her. I didn’t want you to believe in anybody except me, so I told Bobby to lie about the mask.”
Nicole frowned. “I don’t understand. Why would Bobby lie for you?”
“Bobby’s afraid of me because way back when I knew Magaro and Zand, I learned about his taste for underage girls. After I became a cop, I kept up with him. You never know when you’ll need dirt on someone,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’ve got so much evidence against him, I could ruin his life. He wouldn’t dare disobey me.” He tilted his head. “Of course, the same was true of Avis Simon-Smith. Four years ago she killed her mother. At that time I was a detective investigator assigned to the case. Foul play couldn’t be proved, but I knew she did it, and she knew I knew. The crazy bat was terrified of me.”
“You ordered her to push me in the parking lot?”
“Not specifically. I just told her to publicly humiliate you.”
“That’s why you became a cop, isn’t it? It gave you power over people. Power you never had as a child.”
“Forget the amateur psychology, Nicole. You can’t have power unless God lets you have it. God is on my side.”
“God, or the devil?” a man’s voice rang out.
Ray’s gaze shot behind Nicole. She turned. Cy Waters stood in the door of the church, his gun drawn.
“Waters!” Ray shouted. Nicole looked back at him. His face transformed. The weird smirk was gone. He looked tough, businesslike, in control. “I’ve got Dominic. He was going to kill Nicole.”
“Won’t work, Ray,” Waters said. “I’ve been standing outside the door for ten minutes. I wanted to hear this.”
Ray jerked Paul, causing him to flinch in pain, jamming the gun into his temple. “What are you doing here?”
“I followed you. I got a call from Jewel Crown earlier this evening. She had some interesting things to say about your paying Izzy to kill Nicole, then shooting at her on the street the other night.”
Ray laughed emptily. “And you took her seriously? She’s a hooker and a coke addict.”
“It wasn’t just Jewel. I’ve never trusted you, DeSoto.”
“Never trusted me?” Ray sneered. “Oh, that explains it. Well, tell me something, Cy. If you didn’t trust me, why didn’t you say so to someone?”
“Because you’re a super cop. Never made a mistake. Made sergeant at thirty-one. Commendations up to your neck. What was I supposed to do—complain about you just because you gave me the creeps but I didn’t know why?”
Ray gave him a lopsided grin. “What about your attitude toward Nicole? You seemed convinced she was guilty. You dragged her over the coals. What was that all about?”
“Partly because that’s my way—I always play bad cop. But partly because when I first suspected what you were up to, I couldn’t believe it. I decided to act normal and just watch to see if you made any mistakes. And you did. You’ve screwed up a couple of times lately, Ray.”
Ray stiffened as if affronted by an insult “Like when?”
“Like taking the gun used in the Zand-Magaro murders out of Evidence the day after I said I was going to have Ballistics go over it again.”
“What’s the big deal about that? I put it back.”
“After you were satisfied that the serial number couldn’t be recovered. They told me in Ballistics you’d brought the gun over and asked. But you got too cocky. You didn’t let them try. I did. This time they were able to bring it up. The gun was registered to General Ernest Hazelton, Nicole’s grandfather.”
Ray pulled a face. “I guess that means Nicole killed Zand and Magaro.”
“My father tried,” Nicole said desperately to Cy. “But he couldn’t go through with it. He dropped the gun. Ray picked it up. He was in Basin Park that night. He knew Magaro and Zand. Sergeant Waters, he’s Paul’s half-brother.”
“So I heard,” Cy said slowly. “So, Ray, Alicia Dominic is your mother, but you were raised by Rosa DeSoto.”
“So what?”
“So you were in the vicinity of the Zand-Magaro murders. So you knew Paul Dominic, but you never said anything in all these weeks. So you had a very good motive for trying to pin a murder on him.”
“That’s not proof.”
Cy went on equably. “I’ll tell you another thing that bothered me. You’ve always been a stickler for rank. Yet you insisted we go check on that Simon-Smith woman. That’s not our job, Ray. But you had to go to her house. You even dragged me around back so we’d be sure to find her body and Dominic’s blood on the broken window.”
“That’s ridiculous!”
Cy stepped into the room. “None of this explanation is necessary. I just don’t want you to believe I’m as dumb as you’ve always thought I was. But even if I were, I heard what you said to Nicole. You told her everything, including the fact that you killed Zand and Magaro.”
“Well, now, that’s just your word against mine, isn’t it?” Ray asked.
So fast that Nicole hardly saw it, Ray swept the gun from Paul’s temple and fired. The bullet whizzed past Nicole’s face. Abruptly Cy cried out in pain.
Nicole couldn’t duck. She couldn’t take her eyes off Ray as he leveled the gun at her. This is it, she thought, frozen. There’s nothing I can do. I have no weapon. Dodging behind a pew won’t help. He’ll just keep firing until he hits me. Good-bye, my darling Shelley. Good-bye, Paul.
Suddenly Paul lunged to the left, throwing Ray off balance. His gun went off, hitting the iron chandelier and sending it dancing wildly. Ray screamed in rage. He whirled, pointing the gun at Paul’s head.
“No!” Nicole screamed a second before another explosion sounded in the church, ripping through the sound of the beautiful chants.
Nicole’s hands covered her head. Who’d fired a gun? she thought frantically. Cy or Ray?
Her heart thudding with fear, she slowly lifted her head. Ray stood behind the altar. Paul stood beside him.
For a moment, neither Paul nor Ray moved. Then she watched in amazement as Ray’s features softened. His eyes looked beyond her, looked at nothing, really. Finally he smiled. “Mother!” he said softly.
Then he pitched forward on his face, toppling off the altar into the flowers, his blood splattering the delicate white altar cloth.