Page 70 of Murder Will Out
By the photo with the Eiffel Tower in the background, the girl had hit her teen years, and with a thud to the pit of her stomach, Willow realized she was indeed looking at the sullen teenager from the Boston photograph with Effie, whom she had assumed to be a random bystander. It hadn’t been a bystander at all—it had been Robin, Sue’s lost daughter. Had Effie known who she was? The photos continued as Robin grew and Sue got older, threads of gray emerging in her hair, a chronicle of the many places mother and daughter had visited—the Trevi Fountain in Rome, a picturesque village with the pair framed against what looked like the Alps, the deck of a ship too rustic to be a luxury cruise, and, to Willow’s awe and amazement, the Taj Mahal. There was never anyone else with the two of them—only mother and daughter, traveling the globe together.
Willow came to the last three pictures. And stopped.
And finally understood.
The envelope in the little compartment held two documents; Willow took them out and read them, knowing before she didwhat they would say. She carefully replaced the photos and the birth certificates in the hidden drawer and slid it shut again.
Willow stood unsteadily, feeling as though her world, her whole existence, was part of some cosmic kaleidoscope, and someone had given it a big turn and changed everything; the same pieces were there, but the picture was completely new.
She knew what she had to do.
She did not, however, know if she could manage it successfully without being killed.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Joel Drummond, in his old-fashioned dark suit and neat silver-threaded beard, faced Audra calmly. Audra felt like she had stepped from the last scene of a horror movie into an episode ofDownton Abbey. How on earth had he gotten here? Where had he come from? Her head felt a little strange. Had she passed out? Was she dreaming?
Joel Drummond waited a moment as though to give her the opportunity to speak, then continued, “It has come to our attention that you believe yourself to be part of the Cameron family line by blood, and you intend to claim this house and its legacy as your own. Is that correct?”
Audra blinked. Was he for real? “Yes. Yes, I am, and I do. Geralt Talbot was my father, and since his little trophy wife is dead, everything he has will come to me. I’ll contest any part of the will that tries to shut me out, I’ll do DNA tests, whatever it takes.”
Joel nodded. “I see. I’m afraid that will not be necessary, however.”
Audra blinked and brought the gun up again. “Who are you, anyway? How did you get in here?”
The man did not react to the firearm but remained utterly calm. “I told you. I’m Joel Drummond; I provide legal and financial representation for the Cameron family, and I head the North Islands Historical Society,” he said. “Miss DuBois, upon conferring with other interested parties, we have concluded you are not a suitable heir for the Cameron home and estate. Your lack of regard for its historical importance, not to mention your clear disregard for human life”—he pointedly looked past her to the heavy front door, and the porch where Patricia had fallen in a puddle of blood—“make you ill-suited to represent us in the future.” He drew up his thin shoulders and faced her squarely. “Even if that means our futures end here.”
Audra’s face had grown dark as he spoke. “Who thehelldo you think you are, telling me what I’m suitable for or not? And as for disregard for human life, you supercilious bastard—” She pointed the gun at him and fired three shots, point-blank, into his face.
Even as she did so, she remembered how Patricia always chided her poor impulse control.Sorry, Patty, she mentally apologized.He pissed me off.
The bullet ricocheted off the stones of the fireplace behind him, and she ducked; when she stood, he was still there. And he had company.
“Oh, dearie,” the ancient black-clad woman suddenly present on the couch beside the fireplace said. “That won’t work on him. Though it’s incredibly rude of you to have tried.”
“Incredibly rude, indeed,” the second woman said, shaking her bonneted head.
“What the—?” Audra fired once more at Joel, and then at the two old women, shot after shot, until the hammer clicked on an empty chamber.Stupid little lady gun with its tiny magazine.She hurled it across the room and turned back to them.
She smiled again, a thick, ugly smile full of a lifetime of hate. “Now I get it,” she said. “You’re not half as scary as the last ghost;you should maybe take lessons from Effie. So you’d rather I burn down your home than let me have what I’m entitled to by birth?”
From the library doorway, Willow spoke. “You’re not entitled to anything here, Audra.” She crossed the room and stepped into the firelight to stand next to the thin man. “Hi, Joel,” she said quietly, a little smile on her face.
“Miss Stone,” he answered, his face placid.
Willow turned back to Audra. “I want to be clear about one thing. I could have run, I could be halfway back to Rina’s by now, but I’m not. Not because I’m afraid of you but because I found something Sue needed me to find. And because someone needs to set you straight on what’s going on here.” Willow stared straight into Audra’s face and said, “This is not, and will never be, your house.”
Now Audra smiled. “Oh yes, I believe it will. The property, anyway. I don’t care what your crazy old dead people friends think about it; it’s not up to them, and you’ll be joining them shortly, anyway. The house itself will tragically be lost in a fire, but I can build on the remains. Or sell. I haven’t decided.” She looked around the shadowed library. “The more time I spend in here, the creepier it gets.”
She sneered at Willow. “Besides, I don’t know who you think would get it if I don’t. You think Rina Montalto is going to have her way now that everyone else is gone, give it to the Park Service or something? Not gonna happen. It’s mine. Susan Davis wasn’t a Cameron to begin with, and you weren’t even related to her, as you keep saying.”
“But Suewasa Cameron,” Willow said simply.
Joel’s eyebrows shot up; Dellie’s and Dot’s faces wore matching expressions of astonished delight.
Willow continued, “Sue was Peter Talbot’s daughter by his wife, Marisa, who walked away from the family and the island after he died. But Sue came back and made her home here on Little North, where she was Effie’s best friend and caregiver for years.Effie intended to tell Sue about her Cameron identity—but then Patricia killed Effie, so Sue had no idea of her blood connection to the family.”
Audra looked surprised. “Wow. Who knew?”
