“I’m getting ready to go do something that might be a bit risky, you know, and I’m sort of scared.”
“Plenty scary stuff’s been happening already, girlfriend. Can’t you just let it alone?”
“You’re just like Harlan; he’s been telling me to stay out of the way.”
“Why do you think I told you about him?”
Amanda sighed. She stuffed her hands into her hoodie pocket and looked around the living room, noticing for the first time there were some pictures of her father on the mantle above the fireplace. She could see that in one of the pictures he and Riley were standing atop what looked like Stone Mountain. She was hugging him with her head on his chest, her reddish hair spilling across her face. He was holding her against his side with an indistinguishable look on his face — not overly enthusiastic, not unhappy. Amanda casually walked over to the picture and lifted it off the mantle, studying her father’s face.
“Looks like when I was about thirteen or fourteen?”
“Bout that.”
“I hated him then, you know.”
“Not really. You just thought you did. Remember, computer hard drive?”
“Right.” Amanda stared at the picture. It came to her that there was a deep-set sadness in his eyes. She was neither psychologist nor mind reader, but it occurred to her that she was looking at a wounded man, struggling, she figured, with the encompassing rejection promulgated by her. Not so much the way a wine connoisseur embraces the aroma of the settled tannins in a fine Chardonnay, but more the manner in which an apprentice marvels at the work of the tradesman, she understood what she saw in her father’s face. Never before had she really cared or wanted to know what he’d felt, but now it was so obvious.
“Then why did I do all those horrible things?”
She really did want to know. Not that there was much she could do about it now. Amanda sat next to Riley on the sofa, sliding her hips backward until she was touching Riley’s legs, which were beneath a lightweight blanket. She looked at the photo in her hand and then at Riley. She noticed some color coming back into Riley’s face. She was very pretty, as well as loving and compassionate. She could see why her father would have loved her. She would have made a great stepmother.
“What is it that you’re getting ready to do that is so scary?”
“I have to fix things.”
Riley sat up and was awkwardly placing the unbroken arm around her. “You’ve already gone a long way toward that, but some things aren’t fixable.”
“Maybe so,” Amanda said, smiling weakly. “But I’m going to fix what I can, and I just needed to talk to you. I’ve got the courage to do this now. So, thank you.”
“You’re scaring me, Amanda,” Riley said. “Don’t make me bop you with this cast.”
Amanda leaned over and kissed Riley on the forehead. “Get you anything before I go?”
“Why don’t you stay with me tonight?”
Amanda walked toward the door, as if pulled. “I told you, I have to go fix things.”
As she pulled onto the freeway, Amanda never noticed the vehicle that had been waiting in the shadows of the tall elms just past Riley Dwyer’s house.
CHAPTER 69
Speeding along I-85, she checked out her new, disposable cell phone. She had left her Droid at Brianna’s house with its GPS tracker switched on.
She punched her address book in the disposable cell, pulled up one of the few numbers she had added, and dialed. “Hey, Mister Dagus. I really need to talk to someone tonight. My mom bought this new house. I was wondering if you could meet me there.” She provided him the prestigious address at The Cliffs and then said, “Sorry I missed you the other night, but I had waited and had to rush out. Call me, please.”
After an hour, including two stops, she had finally reached the winding road that led to her mother’s recently purchased mansion in The Cliffs at Keowee. She reached the long gravel drive just as the sun was dipping below the hills to the west and gripped the steering wheel with tense anticipation. Could she pull it off?
She noticed that Tad had been so efficient that he had already placed a SOLD sign on the lawn.
Checking her watch as she parked in a noticeable position in the front, she thought once more about the car. It should be okay, she reassured herself. Looking at her watch, she figured she had an hour before Dagus showed up, if he got the message. She still registered shock when she thought about the video with Brianna, but his weakness would serve as her bait.
While she didn’t know to what degree Dagus was complicit with her mother, Amanda did know that he had written the article trashing her father. He had most likely beaten Riley Dwyer and had also likely burned her father’s house.
Amanda pulled a small duffle bag out of the trunk of her car. She tried not to think about her plan as the reality of execution began to set in. Too much thought, she figured, might lead to inaction. She needed action.
She placed the bag on the brick porch with a clunking sound. The real estate agent’s lockbox was behind a fern hanging from the porch ceiling. She spun the combination and got lucky on the second try. Extracting the key, she opened the door and was taken aback a moment by the beauty of the foyer.
Large oak plank tongue-in-groove slats shone pristinely beneath her feet. Tad had mentioned that they had just been freshly lacquered. The staircase to the left was directly out of the movie Gone with the Wind and, she considered, may even have been the actual version used in the movie. Her mother had told her the house was beautiful, but this was breathtaking. She walked straight through the foyer, across a luxurious authentic Persian rug that absorbed her feet, and into a large family room studded with floor-to-ceiling windows across its rear-facing wall. The view spread from the deck onto the crisply mown sloping lawn to a boathouse that looked like the main residence. She could see the moonlit shimmering waters of Lake Keowee beyond the pier.
“Like mini-me,” she giggled, noticing how the boathouse was brick with a white rotunda. The reflection of an ascending moon was a broadening yellow stripe as it skidded across the water’s still surface. Taking in the view, she got down to business.
She took the Gone With the Wind steps two at a time and was pleasantly surprised to find a large den at the top of the staircase. A maroon-felt pool table was situated in the center of the room, which opened onto the landing at the top of the stairs. Someone playing a ball from the near end of the table would be visible from the front door. This same pool player, if he looked up from a shot, would be staring at a six-foot-square plasma television screen deeper into the room.
“Perfect.”
On that notion, she unzipped the duffle bag and placed the revolver in the middle of the pool table.
Lenard Dagus steered his car along the winding road, fumbling with his cell phone. Finally able to retrieve his last call, he punched send and let the phone ring.
“Yesss?” He heard the suggestion in her voice.
“Amanda, it’s Lenard Dagus. I’m on my way. Are you there?”
“Sorry about last night. I waited, but you never showed. I really wanted to talk.”
“I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
“Okay.”
“See you in a few.”
Dagus felt himself stir at the thought of what he might do to Amanda Garrett. He would try not to hurt her too much. He could make no promises, though. That scab had been picked. He knew that he was no longer in control. He was someone else now. Besides, she was playing with him. He was smart enough to detect the tease in her voice.