Shadows At Sunset - Anne Stuart [99]
“Touching,” Coltrane said.
“I thought so,” Meyer said, unruffled. “She was only a newborn, but I knew she’d grow up to be just like her mother. I’d loved Ananda, you know. Before she turned on me. And even though she had to die, she brought me a second chance. Rachel-Ann.”
“You are so sick,” Jilly said in disgust.
Her father smiled at her with complete sweetness. “I do what I have to do. You’re going to die. I can’t leave the two of you behind. I made a mistake with Rachel-Ann, and I’ve never regretted it. But I won’t make the same mistake with the two of you.”
“I don’t give a shit what you do with me, Meyer,” said Coltrane, “but let Jilly go. You don’t want to kill your own daughter.”
“But Coltrane,” Meyer said with the utmost reasonableness, “if I can plan to sleep with one daughter I can certainly kill the other one. Don’t underestimate me. I have no morals whatsoever. No decent paternal feelings, no sense of right and wrong. I’m doing it.”
“No.”
Rachel-Ann had reappeared on the stairs, but she didn’t have a suitcase in her hand. Instead she held the collar of a growling Roofus. And Dean was beside her, languid, unruffled, almost amused at the trauma in front of him.
Meyer had turned pale. “I can shoot him,” he said. “I can shoot that damned dog before he gets anywhere near me.”
“Give it up, Father,” Dean said. “You’re turning this into a bad soap opera. The jig is up. You’ve lost. Rachel-Ann knows. Jilly knows. We all know.”
“It’s lies….”
“And even better, I have proof,” Dean said in a silken voice, coming down the stairs, leaving Rachel-Ann standing there, still gripping Roofus’s collar like a lifeline. “I’ve had most of the pieces for months now, but I finally got the final bit of evidence today. The autopsy report on a young homeless woman named Ananda Coltrane. They found her body in the Pacific, battered almost beyond recognition by the rocks. But not so battered that they couldn’t tell she had chlorinated pool water in her lungs, not seawater.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“There’s already proof that ties you to her, Father. And I think a simple paternity test, maybe combined with a DNA test, would prove all sorts of interesting things. I’m sure Coltrane will be glad to offer some of his DNA for testing.”
“You’re my son….” Meyer said hoarsely.
“And you don’t give a damn,” Dean said smoothly. “And neither do I. You have your chance. Go away. Disappear. Leave the country and enjoy what time you have left. I’m sure you’ve stashed away a comfortable amount in various foreign countries. As long as you go now then you can get away with it. I’ll be more than happy to take over Meyer Enterprises, to pick up the pieces of the mess you made. You can get away with murder, Jackson.”
Coltrane jerked, then stilled. Saying nothing, his face like ice.
Meyer turned to Rachel-Ann, holding out his hand. “Rachel-Ann?” he said, pleading.
“Go away while you can, Jackson,” she said, her voice cool and dismissing. “Save your sorry ass and save us all embarrassment.”
She couldn’t have destroyed him any more effectively. He stared up at her with shock and hatred in his face. And then before anyone could realize what he was doing he raised the gun.
Jilly screamed and Coltrane hit Jackson at the same time, slamming him against the wall. The gun went off, the shot going wild overhead, and Roofus leapt from the stairs with a furious growl, looking like a particularly shaggy hound of hell.
Meyer’s scream was pure panic, high-pitched and girlish, and before anyone could stop him he ran out of the house, Roofus bounding after him, baying like a blood-crazed wolf.
“Roofus!” Jilly called, but the frenzied dog didn’t hear her. Someone caught her arm, probably Coltrane, but she shook him off, running outside, after her dog.
Meyer was disappearing down the path toward the tangled rose garden, with Roofus close on his heels. She had no idea how dangerous Roofus