THE MAZE by Catherine Counlter

Her arm started throbbing. She needed another pain pill. “Oh no, I’m just fine. What have you done about Candice Addams?”

“I married her last weekend. Funny thing was she got her period on our wedding night.”

“She wasn’t pregnant?”

“She told me that she had had a miscarriage just two days before but that she loved me so much she was afraid to tell me. She believed I wouldn’t have married her if I’d known there wasn’t a baby involved.”

“Would you have?”

“Married her? No, of course not. I don’t love her, you know that.”

“What a mess, Douglas.” She was very thankful she was three thousand miles away at that moment. “What are you going to do?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Do you think she really loves you?”

“She claims she does. I don’t know. I wish you were here. I wish I could see you, touch you, kiss you. I miss you, Lacey. So do your father and your sweet mother. Both of them hoped we’d marry, you know.”

“No, I didn’t know. No one ever said a word to me about that. You were my sister’s husband, nothing could ever change that.”

“No, maybe not.” He sighed. “Here’s my lovely wife, standing here in the open doorway of my office.” She heard him say to her, “How long have you been there, Candice?”

She heard a woman’s voice but couldn’t make out what she said, but that voice was shrill and angry. Douglas came back on the line. “I’m sorry, Lacey. I’ve got to go now. Will you come home now that you’ve gotten rid of your nightmare?”

“I don’t know, Douglas. I really don’t know.”

Slowly, she placed the phone back into its cradle. She looked up to see Savich standing there, a cup of tea in each hand. How long had he been there? As long as she imagined Candice Addams Madigan had been standing in Douglas’s office?

He handed her the cup. “Drink your tea. Then we’ll go to the hospital again. I want to get this wrapped up, Sherlock.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Call me by my name or I’ll tell Chico to wrap your karate belt around your neck.”

“Yes, Dillon.”

“Here’s to catching the String Killer and ridding you of all your baggage. Is your brother-in-law to be considered baggage?”

She took a long drink of the hot tea. It was wonderful. She still needed another pain pill. She said finally, shrugging, “He’s just Douglas. I never really realized the way he felt, until he was here in Washington just a couple of weeks ago. But he’s remarried now.”

“Lucky for you, I’d say. I can’t see that guy giving up all that easily.”

“How would you know that?”

“I know everything. I’m a Special Agent.”

He probably did, she thought, and excused herself to take another pill.

Rain splattered against the hospital window. The officer in the chair was sitting forward. Lacey leaned over the bed and said in a soft voice, “Hello, Marlin. Do you remember me? I’m the woman you bashed on the head, took to your little playhouse, and forced through your little house of horrors. But I really won and you lost big-time.”

“What’s your name?”

“Lacey Sherlock.”

“No one’s named that. That’s stupid. That’s out of some dumb detective story. What’s your real name?”

“It’s Sherlock, Marlin. Didn’t I track you down? Didn’t I bring you in? Wouldn’t you say I’ve earned the name?”

“I don’t like you, Marty.”

“It’s Lacey.”

“I like you even less now than I did before.”

“Do you mind if I turn on the tape recorder again, Marlin?”

“No, go ahead. Turn it on. I like to hear myself talk. I’m a real good talker. Mr. Caine, he’s the guy who owns the Appletree Home Supplies and Mill Yard, he begged me to be his assistant manager. He knew I could sell anybody anything, and he knew that I was an expert on everything to do with building.”

“Yeah, you’re really great, Marlin. But a question. Tell me why you refused to say a word to the police. Why?”

“I just want to talk to you, Marty. I’m going to kill you one of these days, and I want to get to know you better.”

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