Second Chance (34 page)

"Which brings us to Stelle—poor Stelle.
Without her money and her house and her friends—Phil was just a
weak man with no future. And she was going to take it all away from
him. Either that or he was going to go back to her and beg her
forgiveness. Either way you were screwed. So you got Talmadge out of
the hospital, and Rita . . . well, she was already on hand. Or did
you recommend her for the nursing job, too? Whisper her name in
Phil's ear? Tell her to call in sick on the day you scheduled the
job?"

"
Something like that," Carla Chaney said.

"Why Shelley? Why the stepkids?"

She smiled sleepily. "Why not you, last night?"

I shuddered where I sat. "That's no answer."

"Shel had been fucking me off and on since I met
him whenever he could get it up, whenever he felt like it, whenever
he wanted a dirty thrill. That was what the condo was for—a love
nest. What Shel didn't know was that I took every guy I slept with
there. He was fucking Stelle, too, before she died—the good doctor.
Phil's close friend." She laughed, baring her teeth. "Tonight
he wanted to fuck me one more time before he turned me in. I let him
do me—in the ass. Then I gave him what he deserved."

She said it as if that was what every man who had
ever laid a hand on her in violence had deserved—the long line of
abusing men, from Tallwood to Sacks.

"
Why Ethan and Kirsty? What did they deserve?"

"Herb was going to kill me," she said
simply. "I'd set him up for Jeanne's murder. Rita and I did. I
had to do something after he got out of prison. When Kirsty called
Shelley on the way to town on Sunday night, I saw a chance."

"She called Sacks?"

"From a phone booth outside Indianapolis. He
wanted to keep it a secret—to let Kirsty work the thing out
therapeutically. That was his vanity." Carla Chaney smiled. "He
couldn't keep a secret from me."

"Then it was you who made the call to the motel
on Monday and told them where to find Talmadge?"

She nodded. "I didn't think Kirsty was still
with Ethan. I really didn't. She told Shel on Sunday night that she
was going to go back to Chicago. I guess it was just bad luck that
she didn't."

I stared at her and she turned away.

"Don't look at me like that," she
whispered. "I'm no monster."

"You told Talmadge they were coming, for
chrissake! In Prospect Park on Monday night."

"No, I gave him drugs. So he'd be asleep when
they came. But he didn't take them until later, until after . . . Her
mouth trembled. "I didn't want Kirsty to die. She was a little .
. . like me."

For a split second I saw a look on her face that I'd
never seen before, save on the faces of desperate men. "I killed
him for her too."

"C'mon," I said heavily. "We're going
to the cops."

Carla shook her head. "I'm not going anywhere. I
took some pills about fifteen minutes ago. Fifteen minutes from now .
. . I'll be asleep."

"For chrissake, Louise!"

She stared at me almost pityingly. "Don't do
anything . . . okay? Just stay here until I fall asleep. That's all I
ask. I don't like to be alone in the dark. You know that."

"
Louise . . ."

"I won't try any tricks. I could have done you
last night. I could do you right now. I could make it look like an
accident. Believe me."

"I believe you."

"
But I've given up. I tried to explain it in the
car today." She got to her feet. "Just stay here until I'm
asleep. Then you can call the police."

Louise unbuttoned her blouse as she walked over to
the door. I saw her body beautiful in the firelight.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked her.

"Because I'm tired." She smiled sadly.
"I've lived too many lives."

I didn't say it but, in truth, it had only been the
one.

"I'm going upstairs to the bedroom," she
said as she walked from the room. "In ten minutes or so, come up
and . . . kiss me good night."