Capitol Offense (Texas Heroines in Peril) (15 page)

Nodding, McNally took the gun. Then, as if
on a sudden impulse, he raised the gun up over Lacy's head and with
a forceful blow banged it an her crown. She slumped to the floor.
Unconscious.

* * *

Lacy regained consciousness during the drive
through the inky night. She was on the back floorboard of McNally's
Mercedes. She tried to lift her head, but it hurt too much, so she
dropped it back to its hot and bumpy resting place on the floor of
the swiftly moving auto.

She must have been in a semi conscious
state throughout the ordeal of tugging her limp body out of the
Capitol building because she instantly knew where she was now. She
wanted to check her watch to see what time it was, to judge how
much longer she would have to ride, but her hands were tied behind
her.

Then it occurred to her that the longer the
ride lasted the more time she would have to scheme an escape. For
the time being, she would lie still and let McNally think she still
was unconscious.

For the next twenty minutes or so, she
weighed all the angles on her mental scales. Without the use of her
hands, she could think of no way to escape from almost certain
death. The best plan she could come up with was to try rubbing her
face on the car's carpet until the gag around her mouth slid off.
Then, still pretending to be unconscious, she could wait until they
were getting out of the car, then she could holler as loud as she
possibly could, hoping McNally's neighbors would hear her and
contact the police.

She counted while rubbing her face. By the
time she got to seven hundred eighty five, she had rubbed the torn
cloth off her mouth. She kept on counting. At forty two hundred
seventy, the car turned off the main thoroughfare they had been on.
Lacy judged by the bumpy ride the road they had turned on was not
paved. After only a minute, McNally turned again. This time to the
left. She started counting again. One, two, three, four..

By the time she got to thirty four, the car
rounded still another corner. After nosing its way perhaps ten
feet, the car stopped.

Lacy shook all over. This would be her only
chance, she told herself. One quick charge from the revolver could
silence her permanently. She knew she had to take the risk. Once
Pete got there, it would all be over.

As soon as the motor died, McNally opened
the car door and sprang to his feet.

"Lacy?"

She made no reply, trying all the while to
breath in a rhythmic, even pattern which would lead him to believe
she was still unconscious.

With the car door still open, he leaned into
the back seat to lift up the bulk of her body. Forcing herself to
go limp all over, Lacy allowed McNally to lift her off the
floorboard.

As soon as her head cleared the car's
doorway, she forcefully butted McNally, shoving him backward and
onto the sandy ground. She screamed as loud as her voice could, and
took off running.

It was then that she realized that no one
could have heard her screams. No stilted houses silhouetted against
the moonlit bay. McNally's bay house stood isolated on the lonely
stretch of beach. She suddenly remembered Vivian McNally telling
her of their wonderfully isolated bay home. Now she remembered the
nearest neighbor was over a mile away. And there was no
telephone.

McNally jumped to his feet and ran after
her, yelling for her to stop, threatening to shoot her.

Although she was running as fast as she
could, she knew she would be no match for the lithe McNally, and
besides, she couldn't get enough distance between them to prevent
his bullets from hitting her.

With deep reluctance, she stopped, calling
out: "All right, Richard. Don't shoot."

She stood there on the wind swept
shore, tears rolling down her cheeks. She had quit. She didn't care
what happened. By now they had Mike, too. He was probably already
dead. Why should she even care if she survived?

With his gun aimed at her, McNally picked
his way toward her as if the ground was a sagging roof that would
give way under his weight. His eyes never left Lacy.

Reaching her, he semi circled his way to her
rear, then jammed the gun into her back. "C'mon, now. Let's go up
to the house. And don't try anything or I'll have to use this gun.
You know, don't you, that no one could hear the shots out here. No
neighbors within hearing distance."

She nodded solemnly.

They slowly walked back to the house in
silence.

Set some fifty yards back from the McNally's
boat dock, the house loomed up on stilts to prevent its washing
away as well as to provide a better view of the gulf.

The only access to the house was by a steep
stairway which brought them to a sundeck running the length of the
house. Several pair of French windows opened on to the sundeck.
Those doors had to be the only entrance to the house.

When they went through the first door, Lacy
glanced around and saw that the house was actually a large square,
roughly divided into quarters. In one half was the living room and
large kitchen, in the other a bunk room and the bath dressing
room.

He motioned for her to take a seat on a
white sailcloth sofa.

"Richard, you can put the gun back in your
pocket. I can't possibly get it out of your pocket, and unless I'd
like to risk a twenty foot drop out of one of the windows, the only
way I could get out would be through the front door. I'm not
foolish enough to think I could walk right out without you shooting
me."

He said nothing but put the gun into his
pocket.

"Tell me, Richard. Have you ever killed
anyone?"

He didn't answer for a minute. "I haven't
pulled the trigger, but I have knowingly let some people who posed
a threat to our organization be killed. The stupidest, most
senseless murder or all was Ruth Chambers. She would have divorced
him and never said a word about his corruption  she was
simple minded. But he insisted on killing her. I was against that.
I'd never have anyone killed unless it was a him or me
situation, like with you. If you talk, I sit in prison for the rest
of my life."

Her mind raced on. He could have shot her in
the back as she ran away, but he didn't. He could have shot her as
she stood on the beach, but he didn't. She realized now that he
would shoot her if there was no other way to stop her, but
otherwise, he would prefer to wait for Pete to arrive and take
charge of the dirty job.

At least she had time on her side. How long
would it take Pete to get there? They had called San Antonio at
about midnight. He could have reached Austin by one. How long had
it taken them to reach the bay?

"Richard?"

"Hum?"

"What time is it?"

He looked at his wristwatch. "Four in the
morning. Why? You got an appointment?"

"I have a rendezvous with death." That was a
corny thing to say, she thought, but she had already said it.

McNally glanced down at the floor.

"How close are you and Jim?"

"Thick as blood."

"How well do you trust him?"

"Oh, no, you don't. That won't work. Jim and
I could never double cross each other. I couldn't operate without
him, and he can't operate without me. I handle everything for
him."

"I don't understand how you ever got mixed
up in this. When you were in the legislature you had a flawless
reputation as a great legislator, and I thought you were
financially independent. I know Jim got obsessed with the desire to
grab for all the wealth and power he could. But you..."

"I lost everything I had on the stock
market. My broker messed me up. Oh, sure, I still had some money
left, but not enough to live off a legislator's
seven-thousand-a-year salary. And I couldn't let Vivian readjust
her standard of living."Actually, it all started rather modestly. I
knew Jim was going places, and I made a proposition to him. I told
him I'd be his chief administrative aide. He was looking for
someone with legislative experience who would know all the
money men in the state. I had the right connections, and since
we both needed money, we sort of made a pact to divvy up all the
ill gotten money we could make by using his office as a
springboard. We started with fixing up bids and contracts. Soon, we
learned that if we could delve a little in blackmailing, we could
achieve much more. "We made a great deal of money off that law we
passed requiring every car in the state to have that certain type
of pollution free muffler. No one ever found out that Jim and
I owned controlling interest in the company which manufactured the
mufflers. Reporters tried hard enough, but of course, some of our
key people front for us. Then, much later than that we had to start
having people killed."

He stopped again, gulping. He reminded Lacy
of a drowning man, coming up for air before going down again. He
had to stop for second wind before he could continue, before he
could tell her that he was responsible for a person's death.

"Lacy, I had to do it. The first one was
Senator Welding. We'd been blackmailing him. His was innocent
enough. We knew that he had had his sister on the state payroll for
handling some secretarial duties for him. It was only for a few
months, but it is against state law for legislators' relatives to
work for the state. He told us that as soon as he had found out,
she quit. We convinced him that his constituents wouldn't believe
it. Told him we might get the Travis County DA to press charges
against him if he didn't play ball with us. He did. Temporarily.
Then he decided to come clean. He said he had enough faith in his
constituents to reelect him after all the mess had cleared the air.
He said he was going to expose us and clean up the state."

McNally stopped again.

"We didn't have any choice." His voice
almost broke."He was a really nice guy, too."

Lacy clearly remembered Senator Welding's
death. It had been made to look like murder suicide. She
realized now that Welding and his wife both knew about Jim's
organization. They both had to be killed. Police deduced that
Welding had shot his wife, than committed suicide. Those who knew
the couple were deeply shocked.

Ironically, Jim Chambers had delivered the
eulogy at the double funeral.

"And what was your part in it? Was it you or
Jim who gave the order?"

"Jim. But I may as well have done it. I
didn't try to prevent it."

"Tell me, will you sit back and say and do
nothing when Jim has Vivian killed?"

"I know what you're trying to do. It's not
going to work. So kindly shut up."

He strolled across the room and turned on a
CD of soft rock music.

It reminded her that only a few hours
earlier she and Mike had driven along the eerie stretch of highway
between San Antonio and Austin, and the music had provided the
necessary catalyst to pick up her descending spirits. But nothing
could do that now.

"I don't want any more talking," McNally
said. Why don't you lie down there until Pete..." He trailed off.
"Just stay there and shut up."

"Why don't you say it,
Richard? Say
stay there until Pete, your
executioner, arrives
. You can't say it,
can you?"

He stood there shaking his head. "I'm sorry,
Lacy. Believe me. I've always liked you, but it's the only
way."

"No, Richard, I don't think it's the only
way. You're an attorney. Surely you know that if you turn state's
evidence you could probably get off with a very light jail
term."

"There's more to it than that. What do you
think it would do to Vivian if she knew what I was involved in? I'd
die before I'd let her know."

"You mean to tell me she has absolutely no
suspicions?"

"None whatsoever."

"Don't you think she will after
tonight?"

"I can trust Jim to think of a pretty good
story. When it comes to the art of chicanery, he's the
greatest."

"You better just hope he comes up with
something good."

"I meant it when I told you to please be
quiet. I don't want to talk anymore about anything."

He walked again toward the kitchen, looking
back every couple of seconds to make sure she wasn't trying to head
for the French doors. He got some ice from the refrigerator and a
bottle of bourbon and a hot Coke from under the kitchen sink, and
he mixed two drinks.

"Here, drink this, it'll soothe your
nerves," he told her as he handed a drink with a tall straw to
her.

"How thoughtful of you to furnish the
straw," she said sarcastically, "since you won't untie me." She
sipped her drink. She really wasn't in the mood to be soothed. She
wanted to think clearly, to think of a way to get out. Her only
hope in getting out would be to escape from this house, but how
could she do that when he had a gun? And just getting the door open
would be impossible without the use of her hands.

She was beginning to grasp the hopelessness
of her situation.

The kitchen clock read four thirty.
Pete could be here in less than an hour if Jim had dispatched him
as soon as he arrived in Austin. Of course, he could have been
delayed  if he had to take care of Mike.

Mike
dead
. It was a paralyzing, horrifying
thought.
Mike
. A
modern day knight. More precious than life.

She hated Jim and McNally more than ever now
for depriving her and Mike of what could have been than for any of
their other senseless, vile crimes. Facing death would have been
easier had she been allowed her heaven on earth with Mike.

She pictured Mike, tall and lean, just as he
had looked standing across the room from her at the Casa Rio
Mexican restaurant. Her stomach gave a little jump now, just
thinking of him, in the same way it had done then.

When was then? Only a day and a half ago. It
seemed a century.