Murder Deja Vu

Forty-Four
And Then There Were None

    C larence felt the phone pulse against his hip. He looked at the readout. No number. Must be Reece. He pulled off the road to take the call.
    “It’s Vance. Your phone clean?”
    “Yes.”
    “I fucked up, Wright. Big time.”
    Clarence heard a woman’s voice in the background trying to calm the old man as he explained what happened.
    “They would have seen her eventually, Frank,” Clarence said. “Didn’t matter what you said or didn’t say. Nothing you could do about it.”
    “Maybe, but maybe they wouldn’t have recognized her. I didn’t have to ring the fucking bell for them.”
    Again, the voice in the background warned Frank he was getting too excited and to please take it easy. Frank answered away from the receiver. “How do you expect me to take it easy when I’ve just screwed up everything?”
    “Not your fault,” Clarence said. “Most things like that happen by accident. Take it easy.”
    “They came here to search for racket money. Of course they didn’t find any. But they saw Dana and hauled her out of here. But, man, you should have heard her. I never heard anything so sweet in my life.” He went into Dana’s defensive act. “She was brilliant. Defiant as hell.”
    “Smart lady. I’ll call Jeraldine and tell her what happened and that the cops in Lynn have Dana. I’d warn Reece not to go back to your place, but he’s not answering his phone. They’ll be waiting for him.”
    “We haven’t been able to reach him either. You find out anything?”
    “Yeah. Our killer isn’t Jordan Kraus, I would’ve put money on him, but I just left his house. He’s blind and couldn’t have killed Rayanne Johnson. Then I called Steve Yarrow. Reece left him saying something about clearing up old angers. Any idea what that means, Frank?”
    “Gotta be either the brother or the father, my guess.”
    “That’s what I thought. I think Reece might be on a collision course with the real murderer. I’m halfway to Portland now.”
    “So if it isn’t one of the three guys, my subtraction leaves only one other person.”
    “Right. Brother Carl.”
    “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Frank said. “His own brother. Reece could be walking into a trap.”
    “Right again. This thing is coming to a head. Reece has a two-hour jump on me. I can’t beat him to Portland, but my starting point was nearer. It’ll be close. I’m on my way, but I may be too late.”
    “I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but do you think you should call the Portland police?”
    “Considering Reece is wanted for two murders, the police might shoot him, no matter what I tell them. That kind of thing’s happened before.”
    “Reece is a loose cannon,” Frank said. “No telling what he’ll do if the police corner him. He’d rather die than go back to prison.”
    “Another reason not to call the police. Gotta go.”
    Clarence punched in Jeri’s number. Her secretary answered. “Tell her to call me ASAP. That’s like yesterday, Doreen.” He disconnected the call and stepped on the gas.
    When Jeraldine called back, Clarence repeated what Frank told him and how Dana had handled herself.
    “Quick thinking, but unless they can prove she was with Reece, they don’t have enough to hold her for long,” she said. “I’m on my way. Shit, can this get any more complicated?”
    “Yeah. You want to hear what I found out?”
    “Only if it’s good. Is it good?”
    “Not really.”
    “Let me call you back from the car. I need to tell the office where I’m going and have them track down a bail bondsman in case I need one. Gotta be one step ahead. I’m on the move, love. Back in a flash.”
    Frank was right—clearing up old business meant either Carl or his father. His father couldn’t physically hurt Reece, but if Clarence had this figured right, Carl could and would. That son of a bitch. Nailing his brother for double murder.
    Could Reece have found out? If so, how? And if he did, he could be walking into a trap right now. Clarence needed to warn him. He pressed the Send button. “Come on, Reece. Answer, dammit.” Nothing.
    Timing meant everything.
    He slammed his foot on the accelerator.

Chapter Forty-Five
A Hopeless Choice

    W hy, Carl?
    The question bounced around in Reece’s mind as he sped away from the nursing home. He punched the steering wheel. “Damn!” His brother hated him. Why? What had he ever done to Carl?
    His head pounded. A breath huffed out of his