Copper Lake Confidential - By Marilyn Pappano Page 0,94

and no longer needed his help, he was a liability.

Slowly Stephen got to his feet, wavering so far left, then right, Macy didn’t know how he kept from falling. He awkwardly placed one hand on the desk, then followed it around the corner toward Brent. Carefully he planted one foot in front of the other, ignoring Duncan’s mutter about staying where he was. When he rounded the next corner, he gave Brent a goofy smile. “Do you mind if I trade chairs with you? That one’s not very comfortable.”

Brent moved toward him as if to help, but a sharp word from Anne and a jerk of her head made him back off. He joined Macy, leaning against the credenza for support, rage and sorrow radiating from him. “I’m so sorry, Macy,” he whispered. “So damn sorry.”

“Me, too,” she murmured.

Stephen had almost reached the plush leather chair when his knees buckled, his face drained white and he sank to the floor out of sight. “Stephen!” Macy took a step in his direction, but Brent caught her arm, kept her by his side.

“Oh, for God’s sake, what did you give him?” Anne asked.

Duncan shrugged. “I don’t know. Something to keep him knocked out for the drive here. It’ll clear out of his system. It always does.”

In the small space under the desk, Macy saw Stephen’s huge tennis shoe moving. Hastily she pulled her attention back to Anne and one of her earlier comments. “It can’t be part of the plan for Stephen’s sister to find out someone switched my medication.”

“She won’t find that out. I kept your pills, of course, when I switched them with Duncan’s. Once we’re done here, I’ll switch them back, and all anyone’s going to notice is that a) your pill bottle is almost full and b) there’s no evidence in your system that you’ve been taking them. They’ll think you took yourself off your medication. Mental patients often do that, you know, and then they’re right back in whatever pit they crawled out of. I, of course, will be here to tell the police how you’d been sinking back into that horrible depression that had resulted in your committal the first time, how I had warned Brent, how you both were in denial. How I came home from picking up Clary after her playdate and found such a tragic scene awaiting me. Stephen, Brent, you, all dead at your own hand.”

“I don’t own a gun,” Macy said flatly.

“But you found one. Really, you did. This was your husband’s. It was hidden in the guesthouse. Duncan found it while he kept watch on you until Brent and I got here.”

So she really had seen someone out there. And of course, Anne had given him the code and the key so he could sneak in and rearrange things. “Clary in the pool?”

Anne smiled. “Actually, that was me. I’d brought a doll dressed in her clothes. When I went to get my purse from the guesthouse, I tossed it in. When you screamed, I dragged it out, hid it under some bushes and dashed into the house to pretend I’d been searching for her.”

Stephen’s foot clunked against the desk and Anne scowled at Duncan. “Get him off the floor and into the chair.”

Grumbling about not being hired muscle, Duncan hauled Stephen’s shoulders out from under the desk, then half lifted, half dragged him into the chair. His hair looking tamer than she’d ever seen it, Stephen met her gaze, fear in his eyes, but something more. Hope. Satisfaction.

Oh, God, the panic button! Just last night she’d told him there was one under Mark’s desk. He must have pressed it, which meant the hidden cameras had been activated and the police had been notified. Leave it to him, drugged and probably concussed, to remember the small detail that might save their lives.

If Anne didn’t get too impatient.

Taking advantage of the cover provided by her and Brent’s bodies, Macy felt behind her, searching for the heaviest picture frame there. “Anne, I loved you like a sister. I was so happy when you and Brent got married. I would have given you just about anything if you’d only asked.”

Anne tilted her head to one side. “Would you have given me your daughter?” After a moment, she said, “I didn’t think so. Don’t worry. She doesn’t remember what happened to her father, and I’ll make sure she completely forgets about her mother. She’ll be the best-loved little girl in the world, and I’ll teach