Page 135 of Almost Dead (The Cahills 2)

“What are you doing here?” she asked as he opened the door and slid into the passenger seat.

“I came to borrow a car. It didn’t work out. Dad isn’t here.” He said it bitterly, then added, “Let’s go. Drive. North.”

“To Sausalito?” she asked, glancing at him. She was already backing out, heading toward the Golden Gate Bridge. “To the Amhurst mansion, right?”

He gave her a surprised look. “You figured it out?”

“I don’t know why Diedre killed Gran, maybe because she knew the truth, but she killed Rory because he was an Amhurst. Marla too.”

“And Cherise?”

“Oh…I don’t know…” Cissy shook her head, but she wouldn’t be deterred. “I just think she would go to the house.”

“And, if Diedre’s out to get all the Amhursts, you, your brother James, and B.J. aren’t safe,” he said solemnly as he pulled out his cell phone. “I’m calling Paterno.”

“What if we’re wrong?” she asked as she eased her car onto the bridge and felt the rolling gusts of wind buffet the Acura.

“Then we look like fools. Still—no harm—no foul.” He left a message with the detective, then snapped his cell phone shut as Cissy drove through the stormy night, over the neck of water separating the Pacific from San Francisco Bay, seeing the winking lights of the city in her rearview mirror.

She felt Jack’s worry and drove steadily onward. “How did you figure it out?” she asked, guiding her car up the hills of Sausalito. “I thought you were going to Jannelle’s.”

“I decided I didn’t need the inquisition or the grief. I called Sam and couldn’t get hold of him, so I jogged over to Dad’s.”

“It’s another mile or so.”

“Two and a half,” he said, “but who’s counting? Anyway, Dad wasn’t in, but I went inside. I know a window that doesn’t quite latch. I was drying off, trying to figure out what to do, whether to wait for him, call you, the police, or what. I was running out of ideas, but as I was in his bathroom off the bedroom, using a towel, I saw his computer monitor. It was on, and Beej’s face was smiling up at me. It’s his wallpaper. So I touched the keypad, and his computer opened to his e-mail. There were hundreds of messages, all written by someone named Elyse, love letters, every one addressed to ‘Dear Jack.’”

“Elyse…Who’s Jack?” She blinked. “Your father?”

“Some people call him Jack, only a few, but apparently she did. Most of them were cryptic, but I figure they were in a hot love affair and that Dad was in on Marla’s escape and the murders, too.”

“Your father…and Diedre…?”

?

??Sick, I know, but apparently Dad has stooped to a new low. They headed up the long narrow road to the old Victorian manor built high on the cliffs. It should have been empty, but there were a few windows where they could see slats of light cutting through the blinds.

Parked in the cracked, uneven lot was Jack’s father’s SUV.

“Perfect,” Jack said. “I’m going in.”

“Me too.”

“Either wait here for me or, better yet, drive back to town and keep trying to get hold of someone at the police department.”

She cut the engine. “My son is probably in there, and I’m not waiting outside. You told Paterno what’s up, now let’s go inside.”

He hesitated, then reached into his pocket. “Then take this.” He handed her a small pistol.

Cissy violently shook her head. “I don’t even know how to shoot a gun. Where did you get that?”

His lips twisted. “Dad’s closet.”

“It’s loaded?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Then you use it. Really. I would never be able to pull the trigger. I brought a knife. My Pomeroy 5000, all in one.”

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