Her Last Letter Part 39

h.e.l.lo, If you find this, it's almost certain that I'm dead. I'm so sorry, Gwyn, Linda, if you are still there to read this, for of course, I've made you suffer ... again.

If you don't know already, my plans were to jet off to Italy, then once aboard the plane, call the authorities and let them know about Craig, and poor David. Again, if it weren't for me, David might still be alive. He deserves a decent final resting place, and his family needs to know what happened to him. He's buried under the woodpile behind the garage. Craig put him there after he drugged, then stabbed him, the same thing I fear he will do to me. David made the mistake of falling for me, then trying to help me. He told me what Craig did to that girl in Texas, that Craig wasn't just threatening me, that he'd actually killed her. And he planned to do the same thing to me. All the Mexico talk was just c.r.a.p. He wants the money. That's all. Craig knew that David told me. The poor guy was so transparent.

Craig wasted no time, killed him that same night. I knew it would happen, and told David to take the cash I'd given him and get out, but he worried about me, and wouldn't leave. Just after dark, I heard something going on out beyond the house. I'd just come back from the gas station for some cigarettes. I could hear voices out there, so I snuck back to take a look. Craig was hunched over something on the ground. Then I saw David. Then Craig lifted up the b.l.o.o.d.y knife. It made me so sick. And I was scared. I knew it was already over, nothing I could do. I beat it out of there, didn't want Craig to know that I saw. I didn't come back to the house for hours. When I did, Craig was gone.

I searched around out beyond the house in the field, but couldn't find David. At first, I had this crazy idea that maybe he'd gotten away somehow, after Craig left. Then I looked over to the woodpile. It was messed up, rearranged. I knew that's where David was buried. I thought about calling the cops, but I knew Craig would try to involve me, say I was in on it. After all, I withdrew all that money and made fake IDs for both of us. It would look bad. And I don't want to go to jail.

Craig won't do anything to me until he has the money. I know that for sure. But he's not going to get it. I made duplicate sets of bags, real, and fake, with a little real cash up front in the fake ones, just in case he checks. By the time he figures out I've switched the bags and his ID, I'll be long gone.

Like I said though, if you find this letter, something went wrong. Funny, about Dad's secret room, huh? I found it one day while I was chasing after a mouse that ran behind the tool cabinet. I just pushed, and like in some dark tale of castles on the moor, I discovered his hideaway. Dad left the key on a shelf, deep in a corner, the combination along with it. Nothing was inside the safe though. Probably cleaned everything out before he died ... so like our father. But I used the safe to hide the money from Craig, knew he'd never find it there.

I love you. I know you love me too. No matter what happens, I want you to know I'm heartsick and sorry for all the trouble I've caused. I'm going to change. It's not too late. I hope you never find this letter, that instead I come back and open the safe myself, that by then I've bought a little villa in Italy, with vibrant pansies trailing from the window boxes, where I write my stories and flirt with the s.e.xy Italian men. Then we'll all go visit my place together, and be a family again, only better than before. I pray this happens. If not ... I promise I'll be waiting for you on the other side.

Your loving sister, Kelly

Chapter 26.

When I arrived at the old house, the street was lined with police cars. Crime scene tape and barricades surrounded the yard. Neighbors stood at a distance in talkative groups or milled around, trying to catch a glimpse of the newest police action on the block. I parked on an adjacent street and set out to look for Caroline, who was the first person I'd telephoned after I finished Kelly's letter. As I turned the corner and the house came into view, I saw Caroline at the edge of the crowd and yelled for her. She crossed the street and jogged toward me.

"Wow, what next?" she said, getting in step with me as we approached the throng of gawkers.

"Have they found out anything yet about this David guy?" I asked. "I don't remember Kelly ever mentioning him, and I don't think his name ever came up during the police investigation."

"According to Nate, the cops don't know who he is either, but they'll sure get busy trying to identify him. The medical examiner from the coroner's office is here, and he's been taking pictures and stuff for a while, doing whatever it is those guys do. They just pulled the body out of the ground a minute ago. Sheeez. Can't think there'd be much to look at after all this time. I sure don't want to look myself, even if they let me, which I'm sure they won't. Did you get a hold of Linda?"

"Yes, finally. But she's not coming. Can't blame her."

"No, guess not."

"And I found out something else," I said.

"What?"

"Linda didn't throw out Kelly's journals after all. She still has them. She said she took them thinking Kelly might have written something about her affair with Wolfgang. Linda said she was only curious, wanted to find out what had been going on and for how long. But I think she was worried I would eventually look through them and blame Wolfgang for what happened to Kelly."

"Yes, sounds about right."

"Where's Nate?" I asked.

"Up with the rest of them. He wouldn't miss this for the world."

I heard a rising swell of oohs as the crowd parted to allow the men hoisting the body bag access to the waiting coroner's van. They placed the body inside, slammed the doors. With an earsplitting shriek, police cars parted the crowd and slowly escorted the van out of the area.

The remaining cops began dispersing the crowd, which drifted farther back, but refused to leave entirely, instead morphing into smaller, quieter groups.

I was about to say something to Caroline, when a sudden blinding flash stopped me, followed by a series of camera clicks and flashes as other reporters followed suit. A large-eyed woman with wind-tousled hair stuck a microphone under my chin.

"Ms. Sanders, a few questions please. Did you know the victim personally? How did you get word the body was buried on your property? Is it true you received an anonymous tip from a friend of the deceased?"

Caroline stepped in front of me. "Hey, leave her alone. She's not talking now. She doesn't know the guy. Doesn't know him at all."

Now the reporters swarmed over Caroline. "So the deceased is male? Can you give us a name? A name? How old was he? Can you give us any idea how long he's been buried here on the property? Did he know the accused, Craig Foster?"

"We don't know anything," said Caroline. "Now that's enough. Let us through."

Nate noticed the commotion and hurried to our aid. "Okay, back off, people. You'll get an official statement soon enough. Give the ladies some breathing room." He ushered us forward toward the house. Camera flashes followed until we'd closed the door in their faces.

"Sorry about that," Nate said. "I should have warned you they'd be on you like dogs on a scent. It's amazing how fast they figure out who's who."

"Whew," said Caroline, "don't think I'd like being famous all that much."

He laughed. "Are you two okay?"

"Yes," I said.

"Sure," said Caroline. "You find out anything yet?"

"We have an idea about him, just need to confirm his ident.i.ty. He wasn't reported missing, a drifter mostly, but we're thinking Gwyn's sister will be correct as to the time of death and the details surrounding it. I'm guessing this guy may have known Craig a while before, then hooked up with him here in Glenwood."

"Will Craig confess to it?" I asked.

"Possibly, if his lawyer thinks he can get something for his client. But don't worry. Whether Foster confesses to this one or not, once he's sentenced, he won't be going anywhere outside some very solid walls."

Chapter 27.

I watched as Trevor came in the front door, finished with shoveling the morning's new load of snow from the porch. He stomped his snowy boots in the doorway.

"Trevor?"

"What?" He ambled over to me in socked feet. "Did you say something?"

"I need to talk to you. It's kind of important."

"Sure, hon, what is it?"

"Maybe you should sit down first." I patted a spot next to me on the couch.

"Oh, don't like the sound of that." He knitted his brows in question.

"First of all, let me say that I do love you, very much. I have from the beginning. I know you love me too, but I also know we've been having some problems. A lot of it's my fault. I do take responsibility for that. But not for everything."

"Gwyn-"

"No, let me finish. It's better if I get this out all at once. The time I was away in Denver, the time you left me the roses, I smelled perfume on my pillow that night. It wasn't mine, and I wasn't imagining it. I know you're going to deny it, but I need you to tell me the truth. If you've been having an affair with Sylvia Breslin, I need to know it. I have to a.s.sume that she was the one here the weekend I was gone, and that it was her perfume."

"Wait, wait, no," he said, bolting upright. "No, she wasn't here. Sylvia has never been in this house. I swear to you."

"Then how do you explain the perfume?"

"I don't know. I don't know. Let me think." He walked back and forth, shaking his head and staring at the floor. Finally, he looked at me. "You're absolutely sure about the perfume?"

"Absolutely."

"G.o.d, why can't I remember? I was so tired that night. I fell asleep before you got home, and I was trying so hard to stay awake. I remember ... yeah. I put the roses in the vase, and then wrote you the note. It took me a while to get that note right. It turned out kind of funny, but romantic too. You liked it, right?"

"Yes."

"I wanted it to be a nice evening for us. I couldn't wait for you to get home. I'd missed you, Gwyn. I arranged the flowers on the table, knew you'd see them as soon as you walked in, then I ...wait. Wait right there." He ran for the stairs.

He returned carrying a small package wrapped in Christmas paper. "Open this."

I did. It was a bottle of spray cologne.

"Is that what you smelled?"

I sprayed it on my hand and sniffed it. I recognized the scent right away. "Yes, I believe it is."

"I bought it for you, Gwyn. I remember I sprayed it a couple times while I was wrapping some Christmas presents I'd bought for you. I wanted to make sure the thing worked. And I was sitting on the bed when I did it. It must have landed on the pillows. I fell asleep later and then you came home. You never mentioned it. If you'd said something back then I would have-"

"But what about Sylvia?"

He stiffened then, all seriousness. "She's a business a.s.sociate, and that's all. I love you, Gwyn. Just you."

Still, he hadn't denied it.

I waited for him to continue, not sure what I wanted to do. Finally, he spoke. "I saw you that day in Aspen. I saw you with Josh, the day you were late for lunch."

"Oh."

"I saw you after I parked the car. I saw you go off with him."

"But you didn't say anything."

"Yes-I did. And you lied to me."

"I ..."

"Gwyn, I thought you were seeing him again. I saw the way you looked at him. Then I realized that's why you wanted to go to Aspen in the first place, to meet up with him. You didn't want me along. I thought you were unhappy with me, with our marriage, that you were planning to leave."

"No."

"I know, but it's what I thought."

I shook my head wearily. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I made you think that. I should have told you. But I haven't been right. I've been so mixed up lately, for so long now. It wasn't fair to you."

"About Sylvia. I suppose I used her ... to get your attention. She's an attractive woman. I could see you were jealous. I shouldn't have done that either, but I did. The truth is, you have nothing to worry about where she's concerned. Sylvia is an incredibly huge pain in the a.s.s. It's getting harder and harder for me just to be around her. In fact, I've asked Bob to intercede and keep the meetings with her as limited as possible until this project is finished. She doesn't mean anything to me. She never will."

I leaned in and kissed him. "Well, I'm sorry to say I don't think I'll ever be able to wear this perfume."

He laughed, and I could see the relief wash over his face. I hadn't forced him to answer-not directly.

"Oh. Well I have much better gifts for you," he said. "Unfortunately, you'll have to wait until Christmas."

"Not that far off."

"No."

His brow furrowed, and I could see he still had something on his mind. "I know you were worried Sylvia might sue Josh," he said, "for causing the snowmobile accident. You can tell him from me, it won't happen. It was her fault. Sylvia used the brake. Something I said set her off and she decided to get off right then and there, and just reached up and grabbed it."

"Oh. So that's what happened. Okay. I'll tell him."

"And I'm okay about Josh now. I am."

I nodded.

"There's one more thing you should know," he said. "I have a little secret. It wasn't my idea to keep it, but I did because my dad asked me to. I suppose you've noticed how I avoid saying much about him."

"Yes, I've noticed."

"Well, he asked me not to say anything unless I had to. He's embarra.s.sed. My father is in prison, in Pueblo." He paused, waiting for a reaction from me.

"Go on."

"He put together some dicey insurance scams. Finally, it caught up to him. He's due for a parole hearing soon. He's hoping. Those trips I take to Denver, well, sometimes I'm only going to visit Dad. Mom goes with me too sometimes. Dad still loves her, but she's all but given up on him. He says he's going to change, but even if he does, that no one will hire a jailbird. Maybe he's right. When he gets out I was thinking of giving him a job at the realty, get him sort of a start. He is a smart man, when he's not being stupid. What do you think? Do you think I should?"

"Yes, I don't see anything wrong with giving someone a second chance. After that ... well ... then they-"

"Then they deserve what they get. Is that what you were going to say?"

"Yes, something like that."