“The law books,” Stacy said. “The DSM-IV. She was studying, covering her ass. Just in case.”
He sat up. “You realize what you’re suggesting, right? That the teenager was an integral part of the plan.”
“I’m not suggesting that at all. I think the plan was hers alone.”
She had his full attention now, she saw. All traces of sleep had fled his features. “Alice planned every move, by herself?”
“Yes.”
“She brought Troy in.”
“Yes.”
Stacy shook her head. It hurt. She didn’t want it to be true. Didn’t want Alice to be that person.
He was silent a moment. “Do you really think a sixteen-year-old could have pulled this off?”
“She’s not an ordinary teenager. She’s a genius. An experienced gamer. I imagine a brilliant strategist.”
I’m smarter than both of them. Did he tell you that?
“She made a point of telling me how smart she was. She was very proud of her IQ. Arrogant about it, really.”
He rubbed a hand along his jaw. “But why’d she do it, Stacy? The money? We’re talking about both her parents, for God’s sake.”
“The money was secondary. She wanted her freedom. She felt she deserved it. They were holding her back. Overprotective. She said so. They kept her from going to university, insisted on having her home-tutored.”
“You overheard her and Kay fighting, saw Kay trying to kill her.”
Stacy shook her head. “No, I saw them struggling. Heard Alice’s shouted accusations.”
“Which confirmed what you already believed.”
“Yes.” Stacy dragged a hand through her tangled hair. “Kay was most likely trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Trying to calm Alice, bring her to her senses. Why didn’t I see it until now?”
“If what you’re thinking is true.”
Stacy met his gaze, determined. “It is.”
“You’re going to need proof. More than catching her in a lie that’s based on a memory you recalled while asleep.”
She laughed, the sound tight. Angry. “I’m not going to let her get away with this.”
“So, what are you going to do, hero?”
CHAPTER 66
Friday, April 15, 2005
10:30 a.m.
Alice and her aunt were staying in a suite at the Hilton Hotel at the Riverwalk. Stacy had been in contact with the pair, had told the woman she planned to visit, so Grace wasn’t surprised when she saw her.
Smiling, the woman swung the door open. “Stacy, how nice of you to come by.”
“With one of her favorites.” She held up the frozen moccaccino. “Super-size.”
“She’ll like that,” Grace murmured. “She’s hardly left the suite. Just for meals and when the maids come.” The woman’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s horrible. She must feel so alone. And so betrayed.”
Stacy would describe her emotion more as self-satisfied and elated, but she kept it to herself. For now.
“I hate leaving her,” Grace said, “but I’m trying to get all of Leo’s things packed up and-”
Her throat closed over the words. Stacy felt pity for the woman: she had lost her only sibling.
And was about to learn that his daughter was the one who had killed him.
“She’s having a bad morning,” Grace added. “I don’t know how to make it better.”
Stacy squeezed the woman’s hand, fighting the anger that surged through her. It was all one big game to Alice. People, their emotions. Their very lives. One big competition to be won.
The woman went to Alice’s bedroom door and tapped on it. “Alice, sweetheart, Stacy Killian is here to see you.”
After a moment, the girl emerged from her room. She looked like she had been to hell and back, her face so ravaged Stacy experienced a moment of doubt.
Could she be wrong about this? Could Leo’s laptop have been new? Could Alice simply have not known, made a mistake?
No. She wasn’t wrong. Alice had orchestrated this, had cold-bloodedly planned her parents’ deaths.
Stacy forced a concerned smile. “How are you?”
“Hanging in there.”
“I brought you a moccaccino.”
“Thanks.”
“Alice, honey, I’m going to meet the movers. Will you be okay for an hour or two?”
“I’ll stay with her, Grace,” Stacy said. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”
The woman waited for confirmation from Alice, who nodded.
Grace exited and Stacy kept things chatty for several moments, until she felt confident Grace wouldn’t unexpectedly return.
Then she faced Alice. “Let’s cut the shit, shall we? It’s just you and me now.”
The teenager’s eyes widened. “What are you talking about, Stacy?”
She leaned forward. “I know, Alice. It was your plan. You’re the one.”
She started to deny it; Stacy cut her off. “You’re brilliant. They were holding you back. Treating you like a baby. You must have thought ‘How dare they?’ After all, you were smarter than both of them. Weren’t you? Or did you just make that up?”
“Yeah,” she said softly, “I’m smarter than they both were. Too smart to be fooled by this.”
“By what?”
“Your pathetic attempt to trap me. Toss me your cell phone.”
“My cell. But why?” she asked, though Stacy knew she’d used an open cell call to trap the man who’d tried to kill Jane.
“Because I know everything about you, that’s why. Everything you’ve ever done. I do my homework.”
Stacy tossed the girl the phone.
She caught the device, looked at it and met Stacy’s gaze. “Smart. But not smart enough.”
She hit the end button and tossed it back. “Who was on the other end of that open call? Spencer Malone and his chubby partner?”
Stacy kept up the facade. “How did you know?”
“You’ve used that little trick before. When your partner tried to kill your sister. Like I said, I did my homework.”
“Fine by me. It really is just you and me now.”
Alice smiled. “You’ve asked me, now it’s my turn. What gave me away?”
“You lied. About your dad’s computer. He had an Apple laptop.”
She nodded. “I regretted that lie the moment it passed my lips. I wondered if you’d catch it.”
“And now I have.”
She shrugged. “Big deal. It’s not going to do you any good. Wouldn’t it have been better to go on thinking you saved the day?”
“Truth is always better than a lie.”
Alice laughed, her expression transforming. “Mom was supposed to die that night at Belle Chere. As were you. Your buddy Malone screwed that up.”
“Lucky me.”
“I tried to get rid of him several times, but he was either too stupid, or too lucky, to back off.”
“Get rid of him? How?”
“Anonymous calls to the NOPD. About his involving a civilian in an official investigation.”
“Aren’t you just the smart little cookie. All brain, no heart or soul. Just like a character from White Rabbit.”
She bristled. “I needed my freedom. I deserved it. It was ridiculous the way they tried to control me. I should have controlled them.”
“And why’s that? They were the adults, you their child.”
“But they weren’t my equal. I could think rings around both of them.”
“So you formulated a plan, carefully piecing it together into a flawless scenario.”
“Thank you.” She gave a small bow. “You see? I should have been at university three years ago. But he wouldn’t let me go. And she sided with him. She always did, even after they divorced. So they stuck me with these lame tutors.”
“Like Clark.”
She laughed. “Clark was the first piece of the puzzle. I discovered who he was not long after he was hired.”