Chapter Thirty-One

As my eyes adjusted to the dim light inside the carriage house, I noticed that Kelly’s other hand—the one not holding a gun—was trembling.

She isn’t as calm and in control as she’s trying to make us think. I slid closer to Ellen. I wanted to ask her if we should try to tackle Kelly, gun or no gun, but the quarters were too tight. Kelly would hear anything we said, even a whisper.

“You can’t believe you can get away with this,” I said, before Ellen grabbed my hand and squeezed it so hard that my eyes watered.

“All I need is an opportunity to reach the Celestial,” Kelly said. “Holding you two as hostages just might give me that chance.”

I wondered whether Todd Rowley was a willing accomplice to Kelly’s crimes. Perhaps he knew everything and would gladly ferry her away from facing the consequences of her actions. Although that would undoubtedly mean the collapse of his business empire.

“I’m sure you must have had an excellent reason to kill Lincoln Delamont,” Ellen said, her voice infused with a sympathy that made me shoot her a questioning glance.

Of course. She’s just trying to get in Kelly’s good graces. Establish a rapport that will humanize us, making Kelly less likely to shoot. Ellen knows what she’s doing—she was trained for situations like this.

I pressed my lips together to silence any further comments, realizing I should let the professional use her skills.

“I didn’t plan to do it. I didn’t set out to harm anyone.” Kelly turned to me. “And I didn’t want to hurt you the other night either. But I had to get away after I dropped off the knife.”

“And I suppose you just wanted to scare me when you chased me around Fort Macon?”

“Yes. I knew you were snooping around. Asking too many questions of people who’d been at the party. I was afraid you’d find out that someone had seen me doing something odd, like shoving my balled-up cloak, with the knife stuffed in the pocket, into the lilac bush.”

“Because they both had blood on them?” Ellen asked.

Kelly nodded. “I was able to collect the cloak, with the knife, before the police could find anything, and carry both off to the Celestial. That was one reason I begged Todd to move from Chapters to the yacht in such a rush. I knew I could weigh the cloak down and dump it in the ocean when we finally set sail. That way it would be gone for good. I didn’t think anyone noticed me stashing or grabbing the cloak. But when Charlotte was making it her business to talk to people who were at the party, I worried that someone had seen me, thought it odd, and might say something that would allow her to put the pieces together.”

“That wasn’t what did it,” I said.

“I realize that now, but at that point I just hoped maybe you’d back off if you were scared enough. I hoped dropping off the knife at the murder scene would send the message that the killer was still in town, and having someone chase you might make you think twice about continuing to snoop around.”

“You obviously don’t know Charlotte very well,” Ellen said under her breath.

Kelly defiantly lifted her chin. “Anyway, I didn’t mean to hurt Charlotte. Just like I never meant to physically harm Lincoln, much less kill him. It wasn’t premeditated.”

Ellen held up one hand in a placating gesture. “I’m sure it wasn’t. Which does make a big difference, you know.”

“I know. I’m not stupid.” Kelly’s aim wavered.

“Of course not. And if Lincoln was your brother, who basically stole your inheritance …”

“He wasn’t my brother!” Kelly’s voice rocketed up another octave on the last word.

“Okay, then who was he?” Ellen’s voice remained perfectly calm, as if she was simply passing the time of day with a new acquaintance.

“An impostor,” Kelly spat out. “A liar and a scoundrel.”

Emboldened, I decided to speak up. “Lincoln wasn’t the brother who went missing when you were a child?”

“No. Other people thought he was, but I knew better.” Kelly used her free hand to wipe a bit of spittle from the corner of her mouth. “My brother’s name was David. He disappeared when I was five. People told me I couldn’t remember him well enough to know that Lincoln was an impostor, but I did. I swear I did.”

“Of course,” Ellen said in a soothing tone. “You were family. You would know.”

“Exactly,” Kelly said.

The ferocity of her reply reminded me of her comments about the family in Tey’s Brat Farrar accepting the counterfeit nephew and brother, Brat, as one of their own. “Did Lincoln show up right after your parents’ deaths?”

“No, he was too clever for that. He waited six months before appearing at my grandparents’ house, claiming to be David.”

“And they believed him?” Ellen asked gently.

“Yes, the fools.” Kelly tapped one foot and rolled her shoulders. She appeared to be struggling to retain a hold on her violent emotions, which didn’t make me feel good about her wielding a gun. “Of course, they wanted to believe. They’d just lost their daughter and son-in-law. They desperately desired the miracle that Lincoln Delamont offered them.”

“That their missing grandson had returned? That’s understandable.” Ellen dropped my hand and took one step to the side.

“He was well informed.” Kelly’s blue eyes glazed over. “I guess he’d made a study of our family, planning the whole masquerade. I don’t know how he did it, but he knew details about my parents, about our past experiences and activities, that convinced my grandparents he was actually David.”

“But what did he say to explain his earlier disappearance?” Ellen asked.

“Oh, he had this whole story concocted. About how he’d run off when he was fifteen because he was feeling so pressured by my parents to succeed.” Kelly frowned. “I guess that was true. Some of David’s friends did confirm that he was experiencing those emotions when he left. But I assume Lincoln talked to them at some point to gather information.”

“What do you think happened to the real David?” I asked, hoping to keep Kelly talking long enough for the police to set up their operations outside.

“Dead,” she said, in a hollow voice. “I knew it, not long after he disappeared. There was just this void in my head, you know, when I tried to remember him.”

“Lincoln may have somehow known David was dead as well,” Ellen said thoughtfully.

“I’m sure he did.” A single tear slid down Kelly’s cheek.

“But why did he stay away so long?” I asked. When Kelly’s frown turned into a glower, I quickly added, “I mean, what was Lincoln’s contrived excuse for not returning to the family sooner?”

“Oh, he said he found a home with some family who were willing to take him in without too many questions. He claimed they believed his story about being abused, even though he wasn’t, and so they didn’t contact social services for fear he’d be returned to his terrible family.” Kelly snorted. “As if my parents would’ve ever laid a hand on either of us.”

“Lincoln concocted this story, and your grandparents swallowed it hook, line, and sinker?” Ellen asked.

“Yes. Like I said, they wanted to believe. And Lincoln knew enough background information and looked enough like our family to make it plausible. I wanted them to have his DNA tested, or something more official, but they were so dazzled by the idea that they had regained one of the three family members they’d lost that they refused. They said such testing wasn’t necessary. They accepted his lies and were more than happy to sign over my parents’ estate.”

“Cutting you out?” I asked.

“Yes, but they didn’t mean to hurt me. They honestly thought my brother would take care of me.”

“But he didn’t?”

“No, but that wasn’t the worst part.” Kelly audibly swallowed. “He had them put all the funds in accounts under the name he was using at the time. Which wasn’t Lincoln Delamont, by the way. He used another identity when he swindled my grandparents.” Kelly snorted. “He had a story all prepared—told them he’d legally established a new identity and wanted to keep it, rather than revert to his birth name. Due to business reasons or something. Of course, it was all part of his con, but my grandparents didn’t care what name he used as long as they had their ‘David’ back.”

“He got control of the inheritance in another name? Clever,” I said.

“Yes, then left again as soon as he had the money. According to the private investigator I later hired, Lincoln then transferred everything to new accounts under his real name and fled town. My grandparents were devastated.”

“I’m sure they were,” Ellen said. “He never contacted them again?”

“No, he just vanished.”

“But he was living under his real name, I mean, as Lincoln Delamont, at that point?” I asked.

“Yes, but I didn’t know that for some time. Not until after …” Kelly choked on the last word. She cleared her throat before continuing. “After my grandparents died. They were so broken by the second loss of their grandson, who they still believed was the real deal, that their health declined rapidly. They died within months of each other, only a year after Lincoln absconded with the family fortune.”

Ellen made a sympathetic noise. “Leaving you alone.”

“Broke and alone.” Kelly’s knuckles whitened as her grip on the pistol tightened. “Some cousins took me in and raised me until I was eighteen. I handled everything on my own after that. College, my track career, everything.”

“That just proves your strength,” Ellen said.

Kelly’s arm wavered. She lowered the gun slightly. “But it shouldn’t have been that way. Lincoln Delamont stole my life. Not just my money, but my grandparents, and even the memory of my real brother. He desecrated that, with his selfish, criminal actions.”

A voice, amplified by a bullhorn, rang out just outside the carriage house. “This is the police. Release the hostages safely, and we promise we can discuss your situation.”

Kelly stiffened and pointed the gun back at Ellen. “How did they get here so fast?”

Ellen replied without hesitation. “I suppose they suspected someone from the party had committed the murder and were keeping surveillance on this week’s events at Chapters.”

I glanced over at her, amazed by her calm demeanor in the face of an unstable killer. But then again, perhaps she’d been caught in just such a situation—or worse—before.

“You said you didn’t plan to kill Lincoln,” I said, hoping to pull Kelly’s focus off Ellen. “But I assume you did know he’d be here this week?”

“Of course. I’d been tracking him for some time. Ever since that private detective I hired discovered that Lincoln Delamont truly was the man who’d posed as my brother years ago. Anyway, when I found out that Lincoln intended to attend the Tey celebration at Chapters—I mean, the idiot put it on his Facebook page, so it was out there for everyone to see—I convinced Todd to register us as well.” Kelly tossed her head, loosening one of the braids. It flapped down onto her shoulder like a whip. “I wasn’t planning to hurt him, of course. I just wanted to confront him, once and for all. To let him know he’d never fooled me.”

“What happened?” I asked, as the request from the police boomed out again.

Kelly’s lips trembled. Widening her stance, she kept the gun raised. “He didn’t recognize me at first. Not until I talked to him at that welcome night cocktail party. Then he realized who I was, I guess. Or at least had some suspicion, even though he hadn’t seen me since I was a child. The next evening, after dinner, he said he wanted to talk to me in private.” Tears welled in Kelly’s eyes. “He demanded that I meet him. I was scared, to be honest. He seemed threatening. But I wanted to confront him, so I agreed to meet him at the carriage house during the party.”

“But you took a knife for protection.” Ellen did not frame this as a question.

Kelly bobbed her head. “I grabbed one from the kitchen and hid it in a pocket sewn inside my cloak. I guess Lincoln stole that key that went missing, because when I met him, the carriage house door was already unlocked and standing ajar.”

The pieces fell in place in my mind. “You argued with him. That’s what Tara Delamont overhead, before you both headed into the carriage house to continue your conversation. But then you stayed inside when he went out to talk with his wife.”

“Yes. Lincoln waited until she was gone, then came back into the carriage house to continue talking with me.”

“Did he attack you?” Ellen asked gently. “Because that would be a mitigating factor, you know. Self-defense.”

“Not at first. But when I threatened to expose his sordid past, to strip him of his ill-gotten fortune, he lunged at me.” Kelly lowered the gun. “I didn’t mean to kill him, but we struggled, and he was trying to grab the knife, and I just …”

“Defended yourself,” Ellen said firmly.

Kelly bowed her head and mutely nodded.

“But you should have just told the police all this right away,” I blurted out.

“How could I?” Kelly lifted her head. Her face, ravaged by grief and guilt, appeared aged by at least twenty years. “I had to consider Todd’s business interests. A scandal like that … well, I didn’t know what it would do to him. And I was scared. How could I trust that anyone would believe me, when they hadn’t believed me in the past? All those years ago, when I’d told them that Lincoln wasn’t David, when I’d sworn he was an impostor, no one believed me. Not my friends, not my extended family. Not even my grandparents.”

A voice blasted from the bullhorn again, but this was one that made Kelly back away with a sob.

“Kelly, please let Charlotte and Ms. Montgomery go and come out of there,” said Todd Rowley. “We can work this out, Kelly. I’m here for you. I’ll stand by you, I swear. Just come out.”

The gun slipped from Kelly’s fingers and clattered to the floor. Ellen dived down and scooped up the weapon using a silk handkerchief. To shield it from her fingerprints, I thought, marveling at how her training had automatically kicked in during such a traumatic moment. Sharing a look with me, Ellen pocketed the gun while Kelly covered her face with her hands and wept.

She didn’t move as Ellen and I made our way outside, announcing ourselves and yelling, “Don’t shoot,” while raising our hands over our heads.

Detective Johnson grabbed me while another officer took hold of Ellen. They ushered us behind a line of officers, where I collapsed onto the strip of grass separating the driveway from the back door stoop.

Ellen remained on her feet. She handed Kelly’s gun, still wrapped in the handkerchief, to one of the officers, then strolled over to speak with Detective Johnson.

Kelly, encouraged by Todd’s continued requests, walked out of the carriage house a few minutes later. She was immediately swarmed by officers, who handcuffed her over Todd’s protests.

Ellen helped me to my feet. “They’re going to take her to the station to book her, I suppose,” she said. “But I convinced Detective Johnson to let us give our preliminary statements here and wait until Monday to come in to the station.” She brushed a bit of dirt from my sleeve. “I thought that would be better, since it would allow you to resolve things with your other guests.”

“Yes, thank you,” I said, my attention drawn to the forlorn figure of Todd Rowley, who was begging to be allowed in the police car set to follow the cruiser taking Kelly away. “Seems he had no idea about any of this.”

Ellen gazed after the cruiser as it took off, lights flashing. “Poor man. It appears she loved him too much to confess and perhaps harm his businesses, but not quite enough to trust him with the truth.”

“You heard her—she wasn’t believed when she told the truth as a child. And honestly, it’s not always easy to share our deepest pain, even with the ones we love.” I thought of how I’d bottled up my agony over losing Brent. Oh, I’d displayed the acceptable amount of sorrow, of course. But no one, not even my parents or sisters, had ever seen the true depths of my despair. I had deliberately shielded them from that.

“We do want to protect them, don’t we?” Ellen said, as if echoing my thoughts. “Even though that sometimes causes additional problems.”

I studied her serious expression for a moment. “You were her handler, so I’m guessing that made you one of her few confidants. Which means I have to wonder—did Isabella ever share what she really felt with you? I mean, about Paul Peters, or living a double life, or being forced to go through life alone?”

“No,” Ellen said shortly, and turned away. “Come on, Charlotte. We need to tell the others what’s happened. The police kept them blocked inside, so they’re probably frantic with curiosity and concern by now. And honestly, I, for one, could use a drink.”

“Only one?” I asked, as I followed her into the house.

“One before we give our statements.” Ellen cast me an amused glance as we headed for the library. “Several after. But I think we’d better move to the privacy of my house to enjoy those.”

“Now that sounds like the kind of covert mission I can get behind,” I said.