Mostly Murder (39 page)

“Yeah, I believe that. You still got that hate inside you. I can see it in your eyes right now. That's why I always thought so much of you.”

“I ought to kill you right now. Just choke the fuckin' life out of your rotten body.”

“Gabe, stop.” It was sickening, horrific, everything Rene croaked out with such misguided pride, but they really were the lucky ones. They were the only ones still left breathing. And Zee, if he survived—and he would, she told herself firmly. He would. He would be fine.

“Who are the others?”

“Told you that I ain't sayin' until I see the signed plea deal in my lawyer's hand. I will say, though, that most of them were the kids of my hits. Couldn't just leave them all alone in the house with the corpses of their mommies and daddies, could I? I've got some compassion. Figured they were better off with me, at least until I had to kill them. That's all I'm sayin' about that until my lawyer gets down here.”

“You killed your victims and buried them in the cemetery out at Rose Arbor, is that correct?”

“Most of 'em. I disposed some in the swamp for the gators to feed on. It just depended on my mood at the time.”

“How many?”

“Eighteen, or thereabouts, give or take a few. Most of my Mob hits had at least a couple of kids. You were lucky to make it out of there in one piece, Gabe.” Rene stopped, hacked out a deep, painful cough before he continued. “Not many did, none of the ones I kept out at the maze. But I didn't know what I was doing the first time. Got careless. My skills weren't so polished back then.”

“Madonna and Wendy got away, too.”

“Ah, Madonna and Wendy. That was a bit different. I hit Madonna's mom and dad, but unfortunately, somebody happened by when I had them out on a voodoo altar. So I had to leave them behind. That was the first and last time that happened. I wasn't sure if they saw me, or not, so I had to take care of them.”

Gabe leaned forward. “You just killed them, after all these years. Just to cover your tracks?”

“They're part of your investigation. Couldn't take that chance. Claire's too good. Although I did throw you off with that phony restraining order I wrote up on Jack Holliday, didn't I, Annie? Sent you running after him, just like I planned. He tried to smile at Claire. He was having trouble breathing now, all the talking making his throat dry. The air was wheezing in and out of his broken nose and making low, whistling sounds. “I've always been proud of you two. Both of you. You're tough. You turned out to be good cops.”

“What about the old man? Nat Navarro? How did he figure into all this?”

“He was my mentor back in the day. Introduced me to the lucrative parts of working hits for the Mob. He knew too much, plain and simple. He's the one that let me use the root cellar down at Rose Arbor when I needed a place to keep my kids back when I first got started. We were in the Merchant Marine together and he taught me how to kill people. In the end, he was the obvious one for me to frame because I knew you already suspected him. Worked, too. I'm surprised you fell for it, but the evidence I planted was damn indisputable.”

“I hope you die hard, Rene,” said Gabe. “I hope you suffer and then burn in hell.”

“Oh, I will, no doubt about it.”

Claire glanced at the big mirror, but she didn't really care who heard her next words. “I hope you suffer as much as Gabe and Sophie suffered. I hope you never have another moment of joy or peace in your miserable life.”

Gabe got to his feet. He took a step around the table toward his abuser, his face like a stone mask.

Claire stood up, too. “Let's get out of here, Gabe. We got what we wanted. We're finished. Somebody else can take over from here.”

Gabe hesitated a long moment, fists balled at his sides, and then he turned around and walked out the door. Claire followed him, but paused and turned around when Rene called out her name.

“I always loved you the best, Annie. That's the truth. Back then, and all over again when you showed up down here. You got in my way, bested me, but I still love you. You'll always be my special li'l girl.”

For a moment, Claire understood what Gabe and Jack felt: rage, pure and simple and black and unbridled, gushing up to fill her head. But they were free of him now. He would pay for his crimes for the rest of his life, for all his victims. It was over. Claire walked out to where Black was waiting for her in the hallway. She didn't look back. It was over.

Hours later, when Claire and Black finally climbed the curving staircase of the house in the French Quarter, they took a long, hot, slow shower together, and Black dried her off around her injuries. Then they got into bed and made slow, tender love that lasted for a long, long time. Then they lay in each other's arms and didn't talk about what had happened that day, not a single word. They had seen enough misery and grief and uncovered enough horror and despair. Their thoughts were their own thoughts, none of which were pretty, at least not in Claire's mind. But it felt so good to feel Black's long, muscular body stretched out beside her, and she held on to him, glad to have him with her, safe and sound, his heartbeat steady under her ear. She had a feeling her ghastly nightmares would come back as soon as she shut her eyes and tried to sleep. But Black was always there when she needed him, and she needed him tonight. She loved him for that, and yes, for so many other things, too.

Claire and Black flew back to Lake of the Ozarks on the day before Christmas Eve. Claire had never been so happy to see a piece of land in her life. They were both safe and sound and relatively uninjured. Her arm was better, and she no longer had to wear the sling, just a small splint. The snake tattoo had already been removed, though the residual scar it had left would always haunt her. But her little A-frame cabin was warm and welcoming, and outside, the edges of the lake were frozen over and a blanket of snow covered everything in sight. It was beautiful and pristine and Claire loved being home on her own private cove. She had hated to leave her new friends behind, especially with Zee still in the hospital. But he had understood, and they'd stayed there with him until he was well out of danger and surrounded by Mama Lulu and all his other friends and family.

The same went for Gabe. He was on the
Bayou Blue
with his kinfolks, all of whom were still in shock over Rene's betrayal of their family and his crimes against humanity. It had been a very bad deal, all the way around. She just hoped they could get over it. Gabe's DEA colleagues had rounded up the Skulls, and now they awaited the long, drawn-out trial process. But he said they had plenty of evidence against them on a multitude of charges, so few of them would walk free for a very long time. She hoped he was right about that because he now had a bounty on his head where they were concerned. He promised to come to the lake and see her as soon as he could and that made her happy, too.

Bourdain had been charged with multiple counts of first-degree murder and would never see the light of day outside prison walls, she had no doubt of that. More remains had been found on his island in the swamp. But probably many others had been thrown to the alligators. He was gone for good, except in her dreams, where other killers she'd faced still dwelled and frightened her nightly. Jack had exacted his revenge on the killer of his family, but that hadn't stopped the horror she'd seen on his face when they'd examined the terrible maze in which Rene had probably kept Jill and Jenny and countless other innocent victims and tormented them and terrorized them and eventually murdered them.

It was too dreadful to contemplate, but maybe now Jack could rest and move on, as Claire was determined to do. She could thank Black for that, too. His understanding and ability to talk her through her feelings helped her without it seeming as if he were plundering her head. She loved him. She loved him more than she had ever admitted to herself before.

But Black had changed since that deadly night in the bayous. He had become very quiet and introspective since they had come in from that appalling place, with Zee lying nearly lifeless in the bottom of the boat. He seemed very tired all the time, very stressed and upset. He was still struggling with the dangers of her job, which never seemed to end. He was outside in the yard now, alone, deep in thought again.

Claire walked to the window and watched him for a moment. He was just standing out there in the snow, in his gray parka, jeans, and snow boots, hatless, hands stuffed in his pockets, staring out over the lake. She wondered what he was thinking and was almost afraid to know. He had put his own life in danger for her, and thank God that he had. But she had a feeling that he was tired of it all, the danger she faced so often, the danger in which she dragged him.

Worse, she had begun to worry that he wasn't going to put up with it much longer. He loved her. She didn't question that. He had not confronted her yet or even asked her for her decision about opening her own detective agency, which he'd offered to underwrite. That had been his compromise. Since their latest case, he had been nothing but attentive and loving, but he had said very little. He hadn't even tried to make her talk about it, which was what he usually did. There was always a sadness and worry behind those crystal-blue eyes of his, and she hated that. It was her fault it lingered there. She couldn't stand to see him unhappy, but she couldn't stand the thought of giving up her career, either.

Wanting more than anything to cheer him up, make him smile and show all those killer dimples of his, she threw on her coat and snow boots and walked down to him. She stopped a few yards away, leaned down, and picked up a glove full of snow and packed it into a big snowball. She aimed, threw it, and hit him square on the back of the head. He turned, and she bent to scoop up more snow, but didn't get off the second shot before he tackled her and they went down together in a soft bed of snow. She laughed when he got on top of her and held her face between his cold hands.

“You shouldn't've done that, Claire. Now I'm going to have to make you pay.”

But he was smiling now, and she knew full well how he would make her pay. He rubbed some snow in her face, just to get her back, and it felt cold and fresh and clean and good. She smiled at him, her heart so full of so many things that she rarely ever said to him. But she wanted to say them now. She grew serious, her eyes searching his, and his smile gradually faded, too.

Full of emotions, she reached up, cupped his face with her good hand. “Marry me, Black. Right now. I want you to marry me.”

For the first few seconds, he looked absolutely astonished. He didn't seem to know what to say. But that didn't last long. He grinned down at her and then he rose above her on his knees and pulled a small velvet box out of his coat pocket and handed it to her. “Okay, if you really want me to.”

“No way, Black. That cannot be a ring. I just asked you.”

“I like to be prepared. This ring was the surprise I told you about when I got back from New York. I've been standing out here wondering if I should ask you again, or if you'd just turn me down flat again.”

“How did you know I was ready?”

“I didn't know. But I wanted the ring handy, if and when you said you were. We've wasted enough time already.”

Smiling, Claire sat up and opened the box. The most beautiful square-cut diamond solitaire that she'd ever seen was displayed on black velvet. “Oh, my God, Black. I can't wear this. What if I lose it? I'm always losing things. I can't even keep up with your cell phones. Somebody will mug me and steal it.”

“It's insured.”

“You didn't need to do this. I don't care about rings. I only care about you.”

“If you only knew how long I've waited for this day. We'll have a huge wedding and go anywhere in the world you want for our honeymoon. But I'd love to take you to the Amalfi Coast in Italy. You'd love it there.”

“Or we could fly to Las Vegas right now, get it done quick and easy, and spend our honeymoon at the Bellagio.”

“Okay, fine, let's go, before you change your mind.”

“Oh, I'm not gonna change my mind, no way. I don't like the way Jude sniffs around you all the time. She wants you back, I can tell.”

Black grinned and pulled her to her feet. “The Lear is gassed and ready. I can't think of a better wedding anniversary than Christmas Eve.”

And Claire couldn't, either. Whether they went to Las Vegas or had a small ceremony at Cedar Bend with all their friends, or a huge affair in the ballroom of his biggest hotel, it didn't matter to her. He could even have the biggest, most spectacular wedding in the world, if he wanted it. She just wanted them to be together and stay together and be happy together. And he was smiling now, happy again, and that was the way she liked it. Maybe things would be different now. Maybe their lives would be less dangerous. Maybe she'd open that agency the way he wanted her to. When Black kissed her again, she put her arms around his neck and let it all happen. Mrs. Nicholas Black. Oh, God, she couldn't believe she'd said yes. She'd once sworn she'd never marry again, never, ever, under any circumstances. But she didn't think about that very long, not with him kissing her the way he was. She closed her eyes and let the magic happen, as it always did when he touched her. Life was good—oh yeah, life was really, really good.