Dream Eyes (Dark Legacy #2)(69)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

Buddy gasped when the paranormal radiation from his own weapon slammed into him. He reeled backward, but he did not go down.

He abandoned the crystal weapon, however, and struggled to level the barrel of the weapon.

Judson seized the nearest vase off the counter and sent the heavy glass container and the contents—a couple of quarts of water and a mass of yellow chrysanthemums—hurtling toward Buddy’s head.

Buddy ducked instinctively and flung himself through the doorway into the back room. The vase shattered against the wall.

Judson went through the doorway and kicked Buddy’s legs out from under him. The gun landed on the floor.

Buddy fell back against the workbench. He seized a floral knife and came up with it in his hand. He started to lunge toward Judson, but he was not fast enough. Judson used another slashing kick to take him down.

Buddy groaned and fell facedown on the floor.

There was a moment of terrible silence. Buddy started to make gurgling sounds. Judson picked up the gun and set it on the workbench. Then he crouched beside Buddy and turned him slowly onto his back.

The handle of the knife jutted from Buddy’s chest. He gazed up at Judson with eyes that were already filming over with shock and impending death. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

“That’s the thing about women,” he rasped. “You can’t trust ’em.”

“The problem,” Judson said, “was that they couldn’t trust you.”

Blood and the psychic energy of violent death were already seeping into the floorboards. Judson knew the taint would be detectable as long as the building stood.

Some toxic spills could never be cleaned up.

Forty

Don’t waste your time trying to convince me that Buddy Poole was going around the country murdering old people with some kind of paranormal weapon,” Oxley said. He closed the folder on his desk and cranked back in his chair. “No need to come up with crazy theories to explain this situation. The money trail and the calendar notes work just fine.”

“Good to know,” Judson said.

“You’ve convinced me that Poole was running a murder-for-hire operation. But I expect he was using the old-fashioned pillow-over-the-face method or maybe a little poison. Those techniques are very effective, especially when the victims are old and sick.”

“You know what, you’re right, chief,” Judson said. “No need to come up with paranormal explanations. But there will never be any proof, either.”

He was very aware of Gwen sitting tensely beside him. Together they faced Oxley across the desk. One of the officers had driven Nicole home after she had given her statement.

“What about Evelyn’s and Louise’s deaths?” Gwen demanded. “Do you believe that Buddy murdered them, too?”

“Yes,” Oxley said. He gave a world-weary sigh. “But I also know I’ll never be able to prove it, just like I’ll never be able to prove that he killed for money. No way I’m going to try to go after Buddy’s clients. Not my job, and I sure as hell haven’t got enough to take to the FBI.”

“Some folks are going to get away with murder,” Judson pointed out. “Namely Buddy’s clients.”

“Yep, that’s a fact.” Oxley rubbed the back of his neck. “And I’m real sorry about that, but it happens all the time. You can only do what you can do in situations like this. You know what’s important here?”

“What?” Judson asked.

“You saved Nicole Hudson’s life, and Buddy Poole is dead in what was a clear case of self-defense that wound up as a tragic accident. That’s as much justice as anyone can expect under the circumstances. As far as I’m concerned, this case is closed.”

“What about the deaths two years ago?” Gwen asked.

Oxley narrowed his eyes. “No point reopening those investigations because I don’t have a damn thing more in the way of evidence. But if it makes you feel any better, I will tell you that I believe Zander Taylor murdered those two people who participated in Evelyn’s research project. And I believe that his death out there at the falls was another tragic accident that, by an astonishing coincidence, resulted in rough justice for the victims. I’m okay with that.”

Gwen looked at Judson.

“The chief is right,” Judson said. “The bad guys are both dead. This is as good as it gets.”

“I know,” Gwen said.

Oxley cleared his throat. “There is one thing I’d like to know, Miss Frazier.”

She turned back to him. “Yes?”

“When, exactly, do you plan on leaving town? Not that I’m marking the days on my calendar, you understand.”

“Trust me, I am really looking forward to putting Wilby in my rearview mirror just as soon as I can,” Gwen said sweetly.

“Good,” Oxley said. “No offense, but I’m real glad to hear that.”

Forty-one

Your mom and I have some good news and some interesting news for you regarding the money that Buddy Poole stashed in that offshore account,” Nick Sawyer said.

Judson, phone clamped to his ear, reached the far end of his room. Confronted with a wall, he turned and paced back toward the opposite wall. He did not like the restless, edgy sensation that was feathering the fine hair on the back of his neck. Max watched him from the center of the bed.

“I assume that interesting is your way of describing bad news?” Judson said.

“I’ll get to that,” Nick said. “Before I deliver our report, however, Mrs. Coppersmith and I would like to stress that this follow-the-money thing would have gone much faster if you had remembered to put Poole’s name on your list of suspects.”

Judson rubbed the back of his neck. The edgy feeling was growing stronger. He knew it meant that he had overlooked something important.

“Poole wasn’t connected to the study group,” he said.

“Excuses, excuses.”

“I’m not in the mood for a critique of my investigative skills. I’m well aware that things have not gone smoothly here in Wilby, but I would like to remind you and Mom that I came into this case cold just a few days ago and it turned out that the situation was a bit more complicated than I had been led to believe.”

“No shit,” Nick said. “On a personal note, I’d love to know how you got your hands on that offshore account number and Poole’s password.”

“I used to do some work for a federal agency,” Judson said.