Tell Me True (Call Me Cat Trilogy #3)(30)

"Close." Davenport smirked. "Maxwell wasn't involved."

"So you called yourself what, Alexander? Which one were you?"

"Caesar," said Davenport. He pointed at Detective Gray. "He was Alexander."

"Why'd you kill all those people? The Midnight Murders?"

"We started innocently enough," said Davenport. "We just wanted to create a club that would support each other. But opportunities came and we couldn't pass them up. We all wanted wealth and prestige in our chosen careers. Some of us wanted more. A certain thrill. But it all came at a cost. Your mother got tired of lying to her husband. She didn't want you hurt by our choices, so she tried to pull out. Not everyone was okay with that. Everyone we killed could have gotten in our way. Just like that little bitch my son couldn't help but knock up."

My heart sank. "Molly. You killed Molly. Why?"

Davenport smirked. "She was starting to ask too many questions. Piece together things she had no business knowing."

I turned to Gray. "And you're covering it up. Making it look like a suicide."

He gave a mock bow. "We do what we have to. While my peers retire on nothing but a tiny pension and a fake gold watch, I will live like a god. It's a small price to pay."

A shot rang out, and bits of blood and skull and brain tissue splattered my face and chest. Detective Gray tried to duck, but another shot took him down. I spun around as a woman laughed. "The price just went up," Mrs. Davenport said, training her gun on me.





Chapter Thirty Four


Life After Death


THE DAY OF THE FUNERAL


I CHECKED MY rearview and side mirrors again, turning down random streets and stopping and starting multiple times before I felt safe that I wasn't being followed.

I'd snuck away after the funeral and memorial, saying I needed to pick up some Tylenol at the store and grab something for dinner. I insisted Ash stay home and rest and that I'd surprise him with something special, but I didn't have much time before he'd become suspicious.

The motel parking lot was empty, likely so was the motel, but I pulled into the spot in front of room 13 and knocked on the door.

When Jon answered, I pushed him into the room and shut the door behind me. "What were you thinking, showing up at your own funeral like that? If I recognized you, someone else might have as well." It hadn’t taken me long to figure out the figure hiding in the distance had been Jon.

He flopped on the bed, his expression one of boyish dismissiveness. "You worry too much. No one expected to see the dead guy at his own funeral. Besides, I wanted to see what people would say. It seems I'm loved more in death than I ever was in life. Maybe it's better if I just stay dead."





Chapter Thirty Five


Behind Every Great Man…


PRESENT DAY


"YOU'RE MOTHER… EVERYONE loved your mother. She wasn't even the prettiest of us, but she was the most loved by all. And then she wanted out. I couldn't let that happen. She would ruin it for everyone. She wouldn't have settled for just leaving quietly, she would have eventually confessed everything, and I couldn't let that happen." Mrs. Davenport took a step forward, and I took a step back as I searched for something I could use to fight her.

"So you had her killed?"

"It wasn't hard. There were others who had issues with your mother. The men always thought they were in charge of our little club. They were fools."

I scrambled away as she moved closer. "You were the one who shot me."

She frowned and raised a finger to her chin. For a slight moment, she was distracted.

My hand gripped a bucket someone had left out, and I threw it at her face and turned to run, screaming for help.

I heard Mrs. Davenport scrambling behind me, her heels clicking on the deck as she chased me. Smoke billowed from somewhere and I smelled fire. "What did you do?"

"You and I are getting off this yacht, and you're taking me to your mother's book. While we're gone, there's going to be a terrible fire and this yacht will sink. It will be a true tragedy on the night of such a lovely celebration." Her voice shook with insanity, and I screamed again and ran straight into Professor Cavin.

"We have to run. She's insane. She's going to kill everyone!" I yelled.

I saw Ash and Bridgette talking across the yacht. I called to them, but two shots rang out and they both fell to the deck. "No!" I tried to run to them but Cavin pulled me below deck. "Catelyn, think this through. You can't help them, but if you go out there, she will kill you, too. We have to hide." Even through my panic, I could tell his hands were too steady, his voice too calm.

My heart died in my chest, and I slumped against my professor as he led me to one of the cabins below. Cavin hid in the corner. As I tried close the door and secure it, Mrs. Davenport pushed it open and held a gun at us both.

"This is where it all ends," she said.

"You killed my husband," I cried. "My best friend! Everyone I ever loved."

She sneered. "Love is overrated. Power is what matters. Everyone saw me as the pretty arm candy to the powerful Ashton Davenport, but I was the true power in our relationship. I was the one who got us where we are today, as the most influential and successful family in Massachusetts. I sacrificed everything to make us what we are, and what thanks did I get? Your mother trying to tear it all down. Bridgette's mother stealing my husband. My son dying. Well, to hell with you all. I will rise from the ashes stronger than ever."