Her Last Letter Part 31

"I didn't."

"Where is it?"

"Actually, I sort of did get rid of it. I gave it to a friend, and she gave it to charity."

He glared at me. "Right. If you've still got the stuff, you don't have to tell me. After all," he said, his voice rising angrily, "it's only my whole life at stake here." He jabbed a finger in my face. "You know, you could be next, if he thinks you're looking too."

"Why would he think that?"

"Maybe he won't, but I'd sure watch my a.s.s if I were you. And I wouldn't go telling anyone about seeing me here either."

The light on the timer switched on in the living room, and he shrank farther into the darkness. "I have to go."

"No. Wait. I need to ask you about that night. I need to know what happened."

"Thought you said the cops were coming."

"No. I didn't get a chance to call them."

"Didn't think so." Still, he glanced toward the street. "What is it you want to know?"

"That night. Were you with her at all? What did she say? Where was she going? Why was she walking out on the road by herself? Why did she get out of her truck?"

"Hey, you're asking me things I can't begin to know. I did see her earlier that night. She told me she was going *out.' That was just like her, take off and not care what I thought. She didn't tell me to leave though, so I stayed, figured I'd see her later. I watched some TV. Eventually I went to bed. I heard her come home, I thought. I heard her truck pull in, heard the garage door close. I don't know what time that was, but I fell back to sleep. I left in the morning, never saw her, a.s.sumed she'd come home and took off again. I didn't think a thing of it. But she was already dead by the time that truck rolled into the garage. Whoever brought it back had a lot of guts too. What if I'd seen them? They knew someone was inside. My motorcycle was parked in the drive. I guess they figured they could set me up that way. But since no one saw me here, I told the cops I was at my place, all night. And guess what? They didn't believe me ... and blamed her murder on me." He turned and opened the back door. "That's about it. See ya."

"Wait. How will I find you if I need ...?"

But the darkness had already gobbled him up.

I released Annabelle, locked the back door and left. As I pulled the Jeep's gears.h.i.+ft into reverse, headlights loomed in my rearview mirror. A car peeled in behind me.

Someone got out, slammed the door, then walked to my window. Trevor. I rolled the window down.

He leaned in. "What in G.o.d's name are you doing here alone this late? I've been worried sick, no note, no call, nothing."

"I was just leaving."

"Just leaving? It's pitch black out. Why in the name of ...?" He stopped, then shook his head. "We'll talk about this at home."

He followed me all the way back to the house, then inside, still hovering over me as we walked into the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, okay?" I said before he could start up again. "I didn't do it on purpose. I made a mistake."

"What were you doing there so late? I don't know what made me think you'd be there. I get home, no one's here, the lights are off. So I drive over there, and I find you alone in the house."

"I'm sorry. Don't flip out about it. I stayed longer than I realized. I didn't mean to worry you."

"What were you doing?"

"Nothing. I was trying out some wallpaper samples. I planned to leave once the workers did, but I got involved and lost track of the time."

"You said you wouldn't go over there alone anymore."

"I wasn't alone. I just said that. Can we please change the subject?"

"Do you have any idea how I'd feel if something happened to you? Do you think I don't worry that maybe that creep will come back here someday? He could. I don't mean to scare you, Gwyn, but he could."

"I know that."

"Then why do you pull these stunts?"

"I'm not pulling any stunts. I stayed too long, that's all. I wasn't thinking."

"No, and neither was your sister, or she might still be alive."

It felt like a fist to the gut.

"It wasn't Kelly's fault."

"No, not entirely, but she wasn't exactly the world's best judge of character or she wouldn't have hung out with that creep."

I eyed him, so very tempted to take this a little further, maybe mention that Craig wasn't the only creep that Kelly hung around. Instead, I tried a different tack. "Did you call the hospital?"

"Yes, I did. They discharged Sylvia this morning."

"No brain damage?"

"That's not funny, Gwyn."

"I didn't mean it to be."

"Well no, it appears she's not ... damaged," he said, a hint of a grin appearing at the corner of his mouth. "She came through it okay. They took x-rays and a CAT-scan and there doesn't seem to be-"

"So glad to hear it."

He frowned. "Your buddy, Josh, he'd better hope she doesn't sue his a.s.s."

"For what? Oh, come on. She wouldn't really, would she?"

He shrugged. "You never know with Sylvia."

"G.o.d."

Chapter 21.

"Are you ready for this?" Sue asked as she breezed through the door of Caroline's apartment. In one hand, she held her briefcase and in the other what looked to be an ordinary shopping bag.

"I guess," I said, nervously swiping my hands across my jeans. I'd arrived a few minutes earlier and unlocked the apartment. Care had left a key for me under the doormat.

Sue looked around. "Thank Caroline for me. This saved me having to find a place. Mmm, I smell coffee."

"Like a cup?"

"Sure would." She dropped her bags and followed me into the kitchen.

I took an empty mug from the cabinet. "Care brewed the coffee. She left a plate of oatmeal raisin cookies for us too. Help yourself."

"So where's she at?"

"Over at her mom's. Guess she owed her a visit."

"Well, we shouldn't be too long."

Caroline had offered to vacate her place so Sue and I could have complete privacy with no interruptions. Care knew I'd feel more comfortable here. Once Sue left, Caroline would be back to sop up all the details. That is, if I decided to tell her any. Best friends or not, I might not be ready.

Today, Sue wore an auburn wig with gold highlights, and I wondered if Caroline's sun-kissed hair had influenced her choice. The two shades were almost identical. Sue's complexion appeared a milky white and her eyes a bright green, but I wasn't sure if this was her natural color or just excellent makeup and a new pair of contact lenses. And it was impossible to tell.

I hadn't yet found the nerve to ask which ident.i.ty was the real Sue. And I wasn't sure she'd tell me even if I did. So far, she hadn't gotten all that chummy. I knew virtually nothing about her personal life.

"Would you like to do this in any particular order?" she asked as we settled onto the couch with our coffee.

"Do this?" I said, finding it difficult to swallow.

She smiled then, sympathetically, I thought. "It's okay, Gwyn. There's room for speculation in some of this. It's not all cut and dried. What I meant was, who would you like to start with first?"

"Oh ... well then, Craig. Have you found out anything about him?"

"Yes, I have, and unfortunately it's both good and bad news. He's been spotted recently. Here-in Glenwood. That information came from a couple of different sources."

"He's here?"

"Yes. So you need to be on the lookout. Also be very careful. Don't try to do anything on your own if you spot him. Call the cops. Agreed?"

"Of course."

"What I can't figure out is why he's back. Why would he chance coming back here? I don't think he's that stupid, certainly not if he's eluded the police this long." She stared at me, as if I might know the answer.

I shrugged. "So, what's the good news?"

"That if he sticks around, we'll nail him."

I wanted to tell Sue about my run-in with Craig, but I couldn't. Sue would be after him, possibly ask me to help set a trap, and if Craig sensed the noose tightening even a little, he'd fly. I'd never find out who killed my sister. Craig was onto something, the initials T.D., the whereabouts of the box. My instincts told me to hold off.

Sue pulled a videotape from the shopping bag.

"And now, your husband."

She leaned over to pop the video in.

"Sue-wait."

"What?"

"Well, I want to see ... and to hear it all, but before I do, I need to know, right now. Is he s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g Sylvia?"

"Unfortunately, that's the part that's not absolutely clear. I can't prove anything yet." She leaned toward me. "I thought it might be better to ease you in, let you see what I saw, so you can judge for yourself. I will say that in most of the cases of marital infidelity I've looked into, I'd be able to give you a definite yes or no by now. But something has happened. He's cut off relations with her, if he was having them to begin with. The lunches and a lot of the meetings have stopped. And it looks like it started right after Sylvia's trip to the hospital, after the snowmobile accident. Right after you hired me."

"G.o.d."

"Is it possible he knows you've hired a private detective?"

"No, how would he?"

"Maybe something you said? As clueless as some men are, others are incredibly good at reading women. Have you talked about Sylvia recently? Any fights in that vein?"

"Yes. I've mentioned her several times. And yes, we had a big fight in the car on the way home from Linda's party. After Sylvia's accident."

Sue brought her fingers to her chin and looked thoughtful. "You may have scared him off. Could be he's decided to cool things with her for a while, thinking you might check up on him. Maybe they had a fight. Maybe he's even called it off for good. Whatever's the case, if he's still involved with her, eventually he'll slip up. I a.s.sume you want me to continue surveillance."

"Yes."

"Are you ready for the tape now?"

I nodded.

The V.C.R. buzzed as she slipped the tape in. "This first shot is inside your husband's office-after hours I might add. Everyone else has gone home."

"What time is it?"

"About seven."

I watched as Trevor walked across the small reception area toward the front door. Sylvia called to him from outside. "Trevor, open the door."

He hesitated, then stepped forward. "I'm working, Sylvia. Seriously, I don't have time for you right now."

She jiggled the k.n.o.b. "Open it. It's not open yet." Trevor released the lock and she marched in. "Since when do you lock the door on me? I told you I was coming."

"And I told you not to. Sylvia, I need to get back to work. We can talk later. Okay?"

"No, and stop making excuses. It's insulting."