Dead by Midnight - Beverly Barton [159]
“What did I ever do to you?” Jean held out her hands in her typical dramatic fashion.
He caught Jeff trying to sneak toward the desk in the far corner. Without issuing a warning, he aimed and fired, hitting Jeff in the belly.
Jean screamed again. “Oh, God, Jeff, Jeff…”
He turned the gun on her when she started to go to her husband. He fired instantly, deliberately striking her in the shoulder. She cried out in pain.
On his knees and doubled over as blood gushed from his abdomen, Jeff sobbed loudly and continued pleading for his life and Jean’s.
“Shut the fuck up!” He’d heard all he wanted to hear.
He shot Jeff four more times until he fell over on his face and didn’t say another word.
And then he turned back to Jean, who had inched her way slowly back against the wall. “Please, please…”
The modern chrome-finished wall clock chimed the midnight hour. Before the clock had struck six times, the next bullet hit Jean in the thigh, and by the ninth ring, the third bullet entered her chest. She slid down the wall and onto the floor, moaning and groaning, and taking her time to die.
Enough of this!
He walked across the room, stood over her, pressed the muzzle against her temple and said, “Dead by midnight.” Then he fired the fatal shot.
Puff Raven was dead.
After glancing around at his handiwork, he slid the Glock back into his coat pocket and knelt down beside Jean. He took his time undressing her and discarding her bloody silk caftan. Beneath the single garment, she was naked except for an indecent orange lace thong. With the utmost care, he slid the string out from between her butt cheeks and pulled the scrap of cloth down her legs. He crushed the thong in his hand, brought it to his nose, and sniffed the musky scent of Puff Raven’s pussy before stuffing the thong into his pocket.
Only one final touch was needed to complete the scene. He walked leisurely down the hall to the guest bedroom, picked up the beautiful mask, and returned to the living room. Once he had placed the mask over her face, he stood back and admired his handiwork.
Perfect.
Taking all the time he needed to do a thorough job, he went through the house, systematically wiping down or washing every item he had touched tonight. No need to take chances by leaving behind evidence that could be traced back to him. Not that he was a suspect, but it was best to err on the side of caution.
Once he had completed his clean-up chores, he went back to the bedroom, removed the plastic gloves, and tossed them and the tissue paper that had covered the mask into the suitcase, along with Jean’s caftan. He picked up the suitcase and carried it with him when he left the Misners’ fabulous Hollywood Hills mansion. Once outside, he tossed the suitcase into the backseat of his rental car and then slid behind the wheel. The locked gates opened automatically for vehicles exiting the premises, so he drove straight out onto the street and off into the night.
Chapter 32
At 8:15 on the last Friday morning in April, Lila Newton received a phone call from Mr. Owens shortly after coming on duty at Green Willows. Yesterday, she had had debated whether or not to contact Terri Owens’s daughter-in-law and explain the situation. They had been forced to keep Terri sedated all day. Each time she resurfaced from the effects of the medication, she quickly went from slightly agitated to almost hysterical. And since Terri couldn’t speak coherently and her attempts to write looked like little more than hen scratches, the staff had no way of knowing what she was trying to tell them. Finally, Lila had telephoned Amelia Rose around 9:30 last night.
“I’ll call Tyler and tell him what’s happening and that his mother wants to see him. He’s due home tomorrow evening anyway.”
“I’ve never seen Miss Terri this way,” Lila had said. “For the most part, she’s usually cooperative, even docile. But ever since she found out that Mr. Tyler went out of town, she’s been acting up.”
When Lila took the phone call, she assumed it was Mr. Tyler calling to check on his mother, so