He had to admit she was right. "One thing is certain. Monk was paid a hell of a lot of money to kill these women. He doesn't
come cheap. If he has lumped them together, the real question is, who wants your aunt dead?"
He expected her to immediately tell him what a sweet, lovable woman her aunt was and that she didn't have an enemy in the world.
"Lots of people dislike my aunt. Some, I would imagine, hate her."
He wasn't prepared for that. He actually smiled. "Yeah?"
"Carrie can sometimes be… abrasive."
"Is that right?"
Avery nodded. "She's in a cutthroat business."
"Oh? What business is that?"
"Commercials."
"Excuse me?"
"She makes commercials."
He laughed, the sound harsh in the confines of the car.
"However," she continued, ignoring his reaction, "none of her business associates would go to such extremes to get rid of her."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I just am," she said.
"Okay, then that brings us back to your uncle Tony. How strong is their marriage? Any problems you know about?"
She was suddenly feeling sick to her stomach. "Carrie thinks Tony's cheating on her."
"Ah."
"They've been seeing a marriage counselor."
"Is that right?"
"Tony loves Carrie," she said.
"How well do you know your uncle?"
"Not as well as I should," she admitted. "I went away to boarding school and was only home during the summer, and then I worked in Carrie's office. Still, I think I'm a good judge of character. Tony would never be unfaithful."
"Wives usually know."
"Carrie isn't your typical wife. She's got a very suspicious nature. I think, deep down, she can't believe any man could love her. She's… insecure, and that's why she's often abrasive. She doesn't want anyone to see her vulnerability."
"So that leads us right back to…"
"If they are separate contracts, and one person hired Monk to kill Carrie and me, then…"
"Then what?"
"I know who he is."
Chapter 11
The first hour was a nightmare, and then it got worse.
The crazy woman had almost blown them to kingdom come. Anne's hand was on the doorknob when Carrie tackled her to the floor. She was so skinny she went down hard, and Carrie landed with a thud on top of her. Both of them were screaming. Carrie had her hands full, and it was impossible to get the woman to listen to reason. Twisting and turning, Anne tried to claw Carrie's eyes with her long, tapered, acrylic nails. She made it to her knees and nearly got away from Carrie when Sara grabbed her by her ankles and dragged her from the door.
As thin and frail as Anne appeared, her rage gave her almost superhuman strength, but fortunately it was quickly spent. Panting from exertion, Carrie kept the woman pinned to the marble floor by sitting on her spine. She held Anne's head down with both
her hands pressed against the back of her neck.
"Find something we can tie her up with," Carrie shouted to Sara so she could be heard over Anne's screeching.
Ten minutes later Anne was sitting in a chair at the round table in the breakfast nook. Her wrists were tied to the arms of the chair with two phone wires.
"How dare you treat me this way. You're not going to get away with this. You just wait and see. I'm going to report you."
Carrie, exhausted, fell into the chair adjacent to Anne's. She covered her brow with her hand, her elbow propped on the table,
and calmly asked, "How do you plan to do that, Anne?"
"You bitch," Anne railed. "I'll call the police."
"Be my guest. Use the phone. Oh, wait. You can't because the damn phone's dead."
"You're lying."
Carrie turned to Sara, who was leaning against the counter, watching. "Is she just on another planet? I think her mind's completely snapped."
"Perhaps," Sara said. "Shock will sometimes make a person… irrational."
"What in God's name are we going to do?" Carrie whispered.
Sara pulled out a chair and sat down across from Anne. She folded her hands on the tabletop. "Now, Anne, it won't do for you
to continue to pretend that everything is all right. We're all in trouble here, and we need your cooperation."
Anne's immediate response was a glare. "Leave me alone, you fat pig."
"Charming," Carrie muttered.
"Bitch," Anne shouted at the top of her voice.
"If you continue to scream every word, Anne, I'm afraid I'm going to have to gag you," Sara warned. "Are you going to calm down?"
Anne's glare grew even stronger.
"Anne, where's the letter that was left for you?" When Anne turned her head away, Sara asked, "Are you giving us the silent treatment now?"
"Wouldn't that be a blessing?" Carrie scoffed.
Sara leaned back in her chair, adjusted her silk robe to cover her gown, and said, "You know, Anne, if you didn't get a letter…"
"I didn't," Anne snapped.
"Then you could be an innocent bystander who just got caught up in our… dilemma."
Dilemma? Carrie was about to take issue with Sara's poor choice of words. For God's sake, they were sitting inside a bomb.
But then she caught Sara's eye and decided to keep quiet when the older woman gave a quick shake of her head.
"You see, Anne," she continued in a calm tone. "As a judge, I put away a good number of hardened criminals over the years. I
had a reputation for giving harsh sentences, but in all of those cases, the men and women who came before me were career criminals. I don't have any regrets."
Anne finally looked at Sara with icy disdain. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because it's important. Over the years there have been numerous threats against my life, but I've never given any of them a second thought."
She went into the living room to get the letters she and Carrie had received. She returned to her seat at the table and read her letter to Anne. When she was finished, she held the paper up in front of Anne's eyes so she could see she was telling the truth.
"And you think one of those criminals is making good on his threat?"
"Yes, that's exactly what I think. Either there's an ex-con behind this, or someone still in jail has gotten outside help."
"Where would an ex-con or a prisoner get the money to hire a killer?"
"Who cares where he got the money," Carrie interjected.
"I'm not talking to you, bitch," Anne hissed.
Sara raised her hand for silence. She didn't want Carrie's temper to trigger another tantrum.
"It's a valid question," Sara said. "I don't know how he got the money. Perhaps a relative came into an inheritance or…"
"And maybe you put away an innocent man, and those relatives know it."
"Yes, that might be how it happened."
Carrie was gritting her teeth to keep from interrupting. She wanted to tell both women that right now they needed to find a way
to get out of the house, and then, once they were safe, they could speculate on the who, how, and why until the cows came home.
"Carrie's letter wasn't like mine," Sara said. "Hers was signed."
Anne looked intrigued. "So he wanted you to know how much he hated you before you died?"
"Not 'he,' " Sara corrected. "She."
Carrie nodded. Anne still wouldn't look at her, but Carrie didn't care about that. "My letter was written by my sister, Jilly."
The announcement so shocked Anne she couldn't continue her stony silence with Carrie any longer. "Your own flesh and blood wants you dead?"
"Yes."
Appalled, she asked, "What kind of a family do you come from?"
Carrie held her temper. "Dysfunctional, Anne. I come from a very dysfunctional family. My sister's crazy."
"Good heavens," Anne said. "Wait a minute. Are you lying? I mean, if your sister is really crazy, why hasn't she been locked away?"