But she knew.
"Proof of life, I think it's called," he said. "I need to convince Charlotte Sawyer that I really do have you."
"No. Wait. Don't hurt Charlotte."
"I'm afraid it's her own fault. She shouldn't have brought a private investigator into this."
Boards creaked as Trey went up the wooden steps. At the top he opened the door. A man appeared silhouetted against the grayish daylight.
"Did she tell you where the box is?" he asked. "Well, did she?"
Whoever he was, he sounded unstable. Jittery. As if he was overly excited, maybe desperate.
"Take it easy," Trey said. "We've got work to do."
"I need a hit."
"Then get it."
Trey didn't bother to conceal the disgust in his voice. He paused long enough to flip a switch at the top of the steps. A weak bulb in an overhead fixture came on. It cast a dim, shadowy light around the basement.
He closed the door. Jocelyn heard the muffled sound of a key in the lock.
She tried to breathe through the panic. She needed to think. To plan.
Her head ached from the blows. She forced herself to ignore the pain. She staggered to her feet and took a closer look at her surroundings.
Like most basements, the one in which she was trapped had clearly served as a storage room for years. She walked slowly around the shadowy space, taking inventory. There was an ancient fold-up camp cot in one corner and a chair with a broken leg. A rolled-up sleeping bag that smelled of must and mold occupied another corner. One large box was filled with yellowed newspapers.
She knew she probably wouldn't find anything she could use as a serious weapon against Trey, who was armed with a gun. But she made herself go through the process of searching because it distracted her from the horror of knowing that there was now nothing she could do to protect Charlotte.
CHAPTER 55
Charlotte's phone pinged, startling her. She grabbed the device and looked at the screen.
"It's a text from Madison Benson," she said. "You were right. She's certainly paying attention to her messages."
"What does it say?" Max asked.
Charlotte read the text aloud. "Urgent that I meet with you and Cutler.'"
Max folded his hands on the desk. "Ask her where and when."
Charlotte entered the message and hit send.
The response came back almost immediately. Charlotte read it silently and then looked up.
"She wants to meet us after dark at her home."
Max considered that for a moment. "She feels safe there because of her security system."
"And her gun," Charlotte reminded him.
"And her gun," he agreed.
"Jocelyn had both of those things and she still chose to run," Charlotte said.
"Yes, she did," Max said. "It's interesting that Madison doesn't feel the need to hide."
"I think it would be very hard to scare Madison Benson," Charlotte said. "You've met her. She's tough."
Anson spoke up. "And judging by what you told me, she wants to keep her finger on the pulse of that buyout deal."
"Yes," Max agreed. "And there's one other thing we know about Madison Benson-she wants us to think that Jocelyn might be trying to kill off the members of the investment club."
Charlotte went very still. "Yes, she does."
Max took his holstered gun out of the desk drawer. "Maybe she's got a reason to be pointing us in that direction."
Charlotte eyed the gun. "Where are you going?"
"To talk to Madison Benson."
"But she set the meeting time for tonight."
Anson looked amused. "You never let the subject dictate the time and place of the meeting-not if you can help it."
"Right." Charlotte jumped to her feet. "I'm coming with you."
CHAPTER 56
Charlotte and Max Cutler were convinced that Trey was the man who had murdered Louise.
It was a breathtaking turn of events.
Madison paced the floor of her vast living room while she tried to decide what to do with the information. They had no doubt sent the same warning to Emily, but that wouldn't be a problem. Emily was a nervous little rabbit of a woman. The news that someone really was hunting them would put her into a state of abject fear. She would stay hunkered down. There would be time to deal with her later.
The real question was whether or not Cutler had gone to the cops with his theory. It seemed highly unlikely. He'd want proof or at least something more than mere suspicion.
She needed more information, too. That was why she had set up the meeting with Charlotte and Cutler.
She stopped at the wall of windows and looked out across Elliott Bay. She was on fire with excitement. Adrenaline flooded her veins. A woman could get addicted to this kind of rush, she thought. There was nothing else like it.
Unfortunately she had nearly three hours to kill before Charlotte and Cutler arrived. Time seemed to stretch out to infinity. She reminded herself that she had preparations to make. Victoria and Jocelyn had never hesitated when it came to drinking the coffee. Charlotte and Max Cutler would drink it, too.
The problem, of course, was what to do with the bodies. But she had that handled.
The knock on the back door sent a shock through her, rattling her nerves. She hurried down the hall, her pulse spiking again.
Until she had met Trey she had gotten her thrills from scoring in the financial world. She'd always had a talent for manipulating others. There was a huge rush in knowing that you were the smartest person in the room.
But now she was playing with fire and she did not want to stop.
When she reached the back door, she peered through the peephole. A whisper of alarm crackled through her when she saw who was on the doorstep.
She deactivated the alarm system and opened the door.
"What are you doing here?" she said. "It's too early. We're going to do this after dark. We can't risk someone seeing you take the bodies away."
She didn't see the gun until it was too late.
The killer fired twice, but the second shot was unnecessary.
Madison's last conscious thought was that she wasn't the smartest one in the room after all.
CHAPTER 57
Charlotte, struggling to suppress a wave of dizziness, looked down at the body on the floor. Madison Benson lay in a pool of blood that was already starting to dry. She looked somehow smaller in death.
"He got to her," Charlotte whispered. "Trey Greenslade found her and murdered Madison."
Max crouched beside the body. "Call nine-one-one."
He got to his feet and went swiftly down the hall.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"I want to take a quick look around before the cops get here."
He disappeared into the big house. Charlotte turned away from the sight of the body and fumbled with her phone. The emergency operator answered on the first ring. Charlotte made her report.
"Yes, I'll stay on the line," she said.
A short time later she heard sirens in the distance. Max didn't reappear until the first responders were pulling into the long driveway. She started to ask him if he had found anything, but she closed her mouth again when she realized the emergency operator was listening.
"The police are here," she said into the phone. "I'm going to hang up now."
She ended the connection before the operator could argue. She looked at Max.
"Well?" she said.
"No signs of a computer or her phone. But here's the real news-Anson just texted me. He says Greenslade has an ironclad alibi. He's been in Loring all afternoon taking meetings. He's still there, according to his administrative assistant."
"That can't be. We were so sure."
"We'll tell the cops the truth-that I'm looking into the death of Louise Flint. Madison Benson texted us to say she had information for us, but when we arrived, she was dead."
"What do we do now?"
"We go old-school again. We follow the money."
CHAPTER 58
"They really think Madison was the victim of a home invasion robbery?" Charlotte collapsed on the sofa and contemplated the abstract print on the saffron gold wall of her apartment. "We tell them the whole story and they go with that dumbass theory?"
"As a rule, cops like the simplest answers best because they are usually the right answers," Max said. "There's been a rash of robberies lately in which the robber uses a repairman's uniform. He knocks on the back door of the house."
Charlotte sighed. "The homeowner opens the door because most people intuitively trust a guy who's wearing a legitimate-looking uniform."
"Right. None of the other victims were murdered, but the cops said they were afraid that it was just a matter of time before the robber escalated. The bottom line is we can't prove otherwise. Benson's neighbors were gone for the day. No one saw anything suspicious. No one heard the shots. No one saw anyone running away from the house. The house has decent security. But here's the interesting thing-Benson's computer and phone were missing."
"Greenslade got to her," Charlotte said. "It's the only explanation."
"I told you, he was at the headquarters of Loring-Greenslade at the time of the murder."
"Then what in the world is going on here? Why hasn't Jocelyn or Emily Kelly checked in? And why did Madison Benson set up that meeting with us?"
Max stopped his pacing.
"We've been focusing on the men on that list that we found in Jocelyn's safe-deposit box," he said. "Anson's right: the more you know about the victim, the more you know about the killer. We need to take a closer look at Madison Benson."