Deadly Payoff Read online

  Cruising slowly along the tree-lined street in the upscale neighborhood west of Lake Champlain, Delia found the address she was looking for and parked in front of the ultramodern building complex. If this was where Genie had actually lived, her aunt had done well for herself in spite of Eleanor’s claim that the woman was perpetually in trouble.

  In view of that, Delia suspected she might have chosen the wrong address. Well, she’d soon know. If this wasn’t Genie’s home, the door key wouldn’t work and she’d simply proceed to the next place on her list.

  Climbing out of the car, Delia straightened her cropped jacket over the designer jeans Juliet had insisted on giving her. She grabbed her shoulder bag from the front seat, took a deep breath and tossed her head to fluff her hair. Then she turned, crossed the sidewalk and started boldly up the front walk.

  The burly, tattooed man who had been keeping watch on the condominium complex was so bored he was almost asleep. He caught a glimpse of movement, blinked and rubbed his eyes. Finally. Some action.

  He got to his feet and stretched. Genie’s other apartment, the one near the mental hospital in Chicago, had clearly been abandoned so he’d concentrated his efforts at her New York State address. In the past month and a half he’d memorized the faces of all the residents. The dark-haired, younger woman entering the condo was definitely not Genie Hall but she was not one of the locals, either. Therefore, she would bear watching.

  He clenched his fists. He’d let her get far enough ahead that she wouldn’t notice him, then follow. A lot of money was riding on his success. He’d promised himself another week before giving up and writing off the debt and it looked as if his luck was about to change.

  To Delia’s relief the key opened the door. That meant she was on the right track but she was still going to try to get a hair sample or something. Having Genie’s DNA would remove all doubt about the murder victim’s identification.

  Thankfully, there was no yellow plastic police department tape sealing off the apartment. She knew when and if there was an official search of her aunt’s residence, some of the clues she was after would probably become evidence. There was no telling what kind of jumble the remaining items would be left in, either.

  Hands resting on her shoulder bag, she spoke to the empty room. “Okay, Aunt Genie, what secrets were you hiding, huh? You might as well tell me because I’m going to turn this place upside down until I figure out what you’ve been up to.”

  Delia shivered slightly. She was talking to thin air. Maybe her mother wasn’t the only family member who needed psychiatric care. She shoved the self-deprecating thought aside. Several of her sisters had confessed to having had similar notions recently and they were reasonably well-balanced women, although Rissa was being treated for depression and Miranda bordered on agoraphobia. It was actually pretty amazing how artistic and creative both women were despite their illnesses.

  Considering her sisters led Delia’s thoughts directly to their Aunt Winnie and made her smile.

  “If Winnie were here she’d tell me to pray,” Delia murmured, wishing she felt worthy of asking for God’s guidance. As a six-year-old, she’d spent many tearful nights praying for her mother’s return, to no avail, and the lack of an answer had undermined her faith. It had been a long time since she’d asked God for anything specific, let alone listened for His answer.

  But He did answer me, didn’t He? She was amazed that she hadn’t realized that sooner. She slowly shook her head. Finding out that her mother was alive after all these years certainly wasn’t the answer she’d expected but it was definitely an answer! Talk about a long delay.

  Wandering into the bedroom, Delia scanned the expensive furnishings, assessed her options, then laid her purse on the satin comforter on the bed and began to look through the modern chest of drawers.

  She found nothing but designer clothing and silky nightgowns until she progressed to the dressing table and slid open a small drawer on the left side.

  It was a treasure trove! Her trembling hands lifted a stack of faded, dog-eared photographs. She made room to spread them on the glass-topped vanity by shoving cosmetics and toiletries out of the way, then seated herself on the velvet-covered stool, facing the mirror.

  Her breath immediately caught. “Trudy” was written on the back of the top photo, as clearly as if it had just been penned.

  She turned the small photo over. Her heart pounded. It was the picture of a woman who looked enough like her sister Juliet to be her twin, except that the image had been disfigured.

  Delia stared in disbelief. The woman’s eyes had been poked out, apparently with a pencil point! Horrified, Delia could only whisper, “That’s sick.”

  Looking away rather than make herself study the photo one second longer, she raised her eyes to the vanity mirror and felt her stomach lurch.

  Standing directly behind her, blocking her escape, was an enormous man with a menacing expression and forearms tattooed so heavily it was hard to make out any bare skin. There was a black bandanna tied around his head. That, and the scar slashing his bristly cheek made him resemble a modern-day pirate.

  Fright provided all the incentive she needed to whisper, “God help me!” and mean every word.

  The man laughed coarsely. “Well, well. What have we here? You robbin’ the place, lady?”

  “No! I’m not a burglar,” Delia insisted, whirling to face him. “Who are you?”

  “None of your business. What’re you doing here?”

  “Why should I answer that?”

  “Because I’ll call building security if you don’t.”

  Delia wished he would. “Fine. Do it. I have every right to be here. This is my aunt’s condo.”

  “Oh yeah? Then you should know where she’s hanging out these days.”

  “Genie is dead,” Delia replied bluntly. “Was she a friend of yours?”

  He seemed to take his time deciding what to do next. Finally, he nodded. “Yeah, she was. Okay. Suppose I buy your story. You say you’re family so you’ll do. You can pay me the money she owes me.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  The man laughed again, sounding even more sinister this time. “I see you ain’t as bright as ole Genie was. I’ll make it real simple. She owed me a bundle. I aim to collect. You look like you can afford to pay her debts.”

  The amount he then cited was enough to raise Delia’s eyebrows. “I don’t carry that kind of money on me.” She eyed her purse on the bed and took a chance by offering, “Go ahead. Look for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

  He shook his head. “Never mind. I’ll give you twenty-four hours. Get it.”

  She decided it was wiser to stall than to try to slip past him and make a dash for her car. Judging by his obvious strength she wouldn’t be able to break away if he laid a hand on her.

  “Okay. Right here, same time tomorrow. How’s that?” she said, hoping she didn’t sound as frightened as she felt.

  “Why not go to the bank right now and get started?”

  “It’s too late in the day,” Delia said. “You know I can’t get that much from an ATM, even if I go to more than one.” Not to mention the fact that she didn’t have nearly enough cash in her accounts, including savings.

  “Okay,” the thug said. “Tomorrow. But don’t try nothing funny, you hear.”

  “I won’t. You be here and you’ll get your money.” She straightened her spine to strengthen her courage. “Now, I suggest you get out of here before somebody spots you and really does call security. You don’t exactly blend in, you know.”

  That made him chuckle. “Now you sound just like Genie used to. I’m kind of sorry she’s gone. What’d she do, drive too fast and wreck her car or something?”

  “No,” Delia said boldly. “She was shot to death in the library of my father’s house.” To her surprise, the man blanched and started to back away.

  “Okay. Tomorrow. You remember.”

  “I’m not likely to forget,” Delia said, bar
ely able to control her shaking.

  As soon as he’d left the apartment she sank heavily onto the edge of the bed. This was the last place she wanted to be but she knew she had to force herself to tarry long enough to make sure her antagonist was gone.

  And then? Then, she’d gather up the horrible photos and whatever else was in that drawer and head for Stoneley as quickly as possible. She didn’t care if she had to drive all night.

  For the first time in longer than she could remember she was actually looking forward to being inside the fortresslike walls of Blanchard manor.

  The man hadn’t looked in her purse so he didn’t know her name. That was one thing in her favor. All she had to do to facilitate her escape was to be sure no one followed her home.

  Delia had managed to stay on the move for most of the night. The few times that sleep had threatened she’d taken short breaks for food and lots of coffee, making sure that the places she stopped were well lit and very public.

  Constantly monitoring her rearview mirror had shown no unusual traffic behind her and no cars had stayed close enough to raise her suspicions.

  It was just after dawn when she pulled up to the iron gates of Blanchard manor, keyed in her code to unlock them, and drove through as they swung open. She sighed, feeling exhausted. Not only was she unused to driving so much, she’d wasted a lot of energy being nervous.

  Rather than go to the extra trouble of driving around back and putting her rental car in the garage with the other Blanchard vehicles, she parked directly in front of the house. It was so early that everybody was probably still in bed, Delia reasoned. That didn’t matter one bit. She needed a shower and a long nap a lot worse than she needed her usual welcoming committee.

  Not bothering to pull her suitcases out of the car’s trunk, she grabbed her purse and started for the front door, absentmindedly counting the stone steps the way she always had as a child. Three, four, five…

  The noise of an approaching engine caused her to pause and look back. She shaded her eyes against the rising sun and peered down the driveway. The sound reminded her of one of those really heavy motorcycles that thumped and roared instead of buzzing like a hornet.

  Who did they know who rode a bike, let alone one like that? And how had anyone gotten into the secured estate? Could the rider have slipped through the gates behind her? Had she been so distracted that she’d driven off without waiting for them to close properly? Apparently so.

  In a split second she knew who the intruder was! A black motorcycle roared into view, its rider leaning into a curve. He was as huge and imposing as his two-wheeled transportation.

  Delia didn’t have to see the tattoos on his forearms under his leather jacket to know that the burly man from Genie’s condo had followed her! And she’d apparently been lax enough to let him sneak onto the grounds.

  She spun, made a mad dash for the door, gripped the knob and twisted. It didn’t give. Locked! Of course it was. No members of the household would be up this early. And except for the rental car’s ignition key, which she still held in her hand, her keys were lost somewhere in the nether reaches of her copious shoulder bag.

  She began to frantically paw through the contents of her purse. “Key! Where’s my key?”

  If she could just open the door she knew her presence would set off the burglar alarm and rouse everyone. Father had changed the alarm code after the intrusion and shooting in the library. She had no idea what new combinations of numbers he’d programmed into the alarm so, once the ringing began, she couldn’t shut it off if she wanted to.

  The keys remained elusive. The motorcycle was almost to the porch. Now what? Delia’s head snapped around. The back door! Maybe Andre, the cook, had unlocked the kitchen. If she could slip in that way she could hit the panic button and it would have the same effect. Plus, if she remembered correctly, the house alarm would trigger an automatic response by the local police.

  Feet flying, fatigue forgotten, Delia raced back down the steps at an angle, heading for the west corner of the house. Behind her, she heard the motorcycle rumble closer, then suddenly stop. Her senses were at their peak. Her pursuer was now on foot. And the rapid clomp of his boots told her he was closing in!

  She shrieked when he grabbed her arm, twisting in his grip to partially face him. “Let me go!”

  “Not on your life, lady. You think I’m stupid or something?”

  Delia refused to tell him what she did think but her thoughts were far from ladylike, let alone civilized. Her upbringing had definitely not prepared her to face a crisis like this.

  “Never mind what I think,” she warned. “Let go of me or I’ll scream my head off.”

  “Go ahead. Scream all you want,” the man said with a leer that made the scar on his cheek form a slight arc. “Maybe somebody’ll come to your rescue and they’ll pay me. I don’t care where the money comes from as long as I get it.” He glanced at the mansion with clear disdain. “From the looks of this place, my fee would be pocket change.”

  Delia’s heart sank. Her supposedly innocent deception had come home to bite her, hadn’t it? Her family thought she’d gone to Hawaii, not upstate New York. What was her father going to say if he learned where she’d encountered this awful man?

  She tried to speak normally. “Look, Mr. Whatever-your-name-is, I said I’d get you your money. I never said I wouldn’t have to go somewhere else to lay my hands on it.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Don’t you know it’s not nice to lie?”

  What could she say? Behind the man, Delia glimpsed a flash of light. The rising sun glinted off glass. A windshield. Help was coming! She didn’t care who or what was approaching. She only knew that she’d soon have a witness and her attacker would be less likely to chance harming her any more than he already had.

  Her obvious interest in the area directly behind him gave the man reason to turn, dragging her with him by the wrist. Delia cringed from the pain, trying to lag back.

  She saw a familiar figure running toward them. Shaun. It was Shaun!

  Her first reaction was relief. Concern for his safety quickly followed. Shaun was obviously in good physical shape but her attacker outweighed him by a ton. Poor Shaun was liable to get hurt—and it would be her fault.

  All she had time for was a squeaky, “No! Don’t!” before Shaun reached them.

  His hands came together in front of him, connected with her attacker’s grip in a scissorlike, upward motion and she was suddenly free. Off balance because she’d been straining to lean away, she hit the ground hard.

  After that, everything happened so fast it was a blur. Delia crawled to a safe distance and watched the action unfold. Shaun was behaving like one of those actors in martial arts movies, only better! He struck the big man with one hand, then the other, and was out of reach before his opponent could return the first blow. He kicked high. He parried. He danced on the balls of his feet as if he were weightless. It was amazing! He was in perfect control of his body while his adversary threw useless punches that landed in thin air.

  The heavier man hit the ground as a result of Shaun’s sideways kick to his midsection and lay there, doubled up, his mouth opening and closing like that of a fish out of water.

  Though she hadn’t been counting the seconds, Delia guessed that her hero had won the battle in less than a minute. It was enough to take her breath away.

  Delia accepted the hand Shaun offered and he pulled her to her feet.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yes. Now,” she managed. “Thanks.”

  When Shaun steadied her with an arm around her waist, she didn’t object. Until then, she hadn’t realized how wobbly she was.

  “Who’s your friend?” Shaun asked.

  “I—I don’t know.”

  “Then let’s find out, shall we?” He rolled the thug over with a push of his boot. “What’s your name?”

  The answer came from between clenching teeth. “Erik Evans. I think you broke my ribs.”

  “To
o bad,” Shaun said. “Care to tell me what you were doing here?”

  Evans glared at Delia. “I ain’t got nothin’ to say.”

  “Fine. Then we’ll let the police figure it all out.”

  Shaun scooped up Delia’s purse, retrieved her cell phone and handed it to her. “You in good enough shape to call them?”

  She nodded and did as he’d asked, then handed the phone back to Shaun. The man on the ground had resumed a fetal position and was clearly no longer a threat. Realizing that, her body had apparently decided it was safe to shut down because without all that adrenaline coursing through her veins her exhaustion had returned.

  Needing to draw on Shaun’s strength as never before, she stepped up to him and slipped her arms around his waist. He pulled her close without hesitation.

  She laid her cheek on his chest and listened to his rapid heartbeats. “I’m really glad to see you,” she said softly. “Thanks again for coming to my rescue.”

  If she hadn’t been in such close contact with him she might not have noticed that he took a shuddering breath before answering. “What were you doing here? Miranda said you’d gone back to Hawaii.”

  “I made a little detour first.”

  “So I see.” Laying his cheek against her hair, Shaun took another deep breath. “Guess you caught this guy in the middle of a robbery.”

  Delia refused to lie to him. Instead, she merely held him tightly and tried to sort her confusion into useful thoughts. Shaun would probably understand the reasons for her change of plans if she explained them, but that didn’t mean he’d keep the story to himself. After all, he didn’t owe her any allegiance. Not anymore.

  Sirens in the background heralded the arrival of the local police. They also roused the household and prompted Delia to reluctantly step away from Shaun.

  Ronald, still in his bathrobe, was the first out the door. He was followed quickly by Juliet, Miranda and Aunt Winnie. In a third-floor window, Delia could see Peg, her grandfather’s private nurse, peeking out and scowling with disapproval. Obviously, the sirens had provided a wake-up call for the entire household.