Chapter 24

Nancy looked up into the face of the killer. "Mr. Mansville. Come in. You were quicker than I expected."

"I was in the area." Mansville smiled at her, a fatherly smile, and stepped into the room.

Nancy closed the door behind John Mansville.

He pushed up his wire-rim glasses and asked, "Anyone else here?"

"No, it's just you and me." Nancy watched Mansville's eyes dart around the room.

He turned to his left and surveyed the bathroom area. He pointed toward the shower/toilet area. "Anyone in there?"

"No," Nancy said softly.

"I'm sure you won't mind if I check for myself." He didn't wait for an answer. He crossed into the small shower/toilet area and yanked back the shower curtain. He exited the bathroom and peered at the sliding glass doors. "You wouldn't happen to have someone hidden behind the drapes would you?"

Nancy didn't bother answering since it was clear he didn't expect her to. He crossed the room quickly and looked behind the drapes.

His actions did not come as a surprise to Nancy. Frank had filled her in on Mansville's military background. He was a retired Army Colonel who'd served two tours in Vietnam. He'd received one of the Army's highest awards for his wartime service.

Mansville had served in the Army's elite Special Forces and that said a lot about him both physically and mentally. Very few men make it through the intense, rigorous, training required to become a Green Beret. Mansville had received specialized training in reconnaissance, hand-to-hand combat, and unconventional warfare, not to mention a course on ways to kill people.

Westin's crushed Adam's apple and snapped neck had been red flags to Frank and he'd spent the previous night finding out everything he could about Special Forces. The Army wisely didn't publicize much about their training, so Frank had called his father who was able to put him in touch with a retired Special Forces sergeant. The sergeant had confirmed Frank's suspicions, but had also driven home the point that honor, loyalty, and integrity were not just words to a Green Beret, they were the very tenets they based their lives and service upon. A break with any one of these tenets would be tantamount to a Dishonorable Discharge, the worse disgrace a service member could receive. It was after hearing this that Frank had formulated his plan for getting Mansville to confess. When Nancy heard about Mansville's background and Frank's plan she'd suggested she be the one to call Mansville and get him to confess. Frank had reluctantly agreed.

Back in the here and now, Mansville opened the sliding glass doors and walked out onto the small balcony and looked around. A second later he reentered the room. He left the doors open and a damp ocean breeze wafted through the doors. The cloud covered sky indicated rain was on the way.

Nancy folded her arms. "Looking for anyone in particular?"

Mansville didn't beat around the bush. "Let's not play games, Miss Drew. We both know why you asked me here."

Nancy gave Mansville a long lingering look. Ever the distinguished gentleman he was dressed in blue shorts and a white silk shirt that set off his tan nicely. The glint of a heavy gold chain around his neck caught Nancy's eye as did the diamond-studded wristwatch. He appeared to be sizing her up as well and she decided to come right to the point. "I asked you here to talk about Diana Collins."

They were standing next to the glass table and chairs. Mansville pulled out a chair and dropped into it. "Yes, you mentioned that on the phone. You'll have to enlighten me, what's there to talk about?"

Nancy stepped behind a chair and rested her hands on the top of its back. "It's simple, you don't have an alibi for the morning of Chase Westin's murder." She watched his face hoping a stray expression might betray his emotions. To her disappointment his face remained impassive.

"Do I need one?"

"Yes, I think you do. All of our suspects can be accounted for, except for you."

Mansville leaned back in the chair. "I'm a suspect? Says who?"

"Detective Lau. Detective Kim. Frank, Joe, .. and me."

Mansville's steel-blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"Care to tell me where you were and what you were doing the morning Chase Westin was pushed off a balcony?"

"No." There was a hardness in his voice.

"You see Mr. Mansville there's actually quite a lot of evidence against you. Frank had his suspicions from the first time he interviewed you. He noticed the abrupt change in your demeanor when he mentioned Diana's murder. He said you became agitated, angry. He felt positive you were hiding something." Nancy paused looking to see what, if any, affect her words had. Mansville's jaw was set in a hard, tight line.

Nancy continued, her gaze never straying from Mansville's face. "I brushed Frank's observations aside until I noticed you staring at Barbara Westin at dinner that night, the night she wore the blue necklace. I saw anger in your eyes that evening and I wondered why. What had made you so mad? It was later, when I realized the necklace belonged to Diana that I finally put two and two together." She paused, letting her words sink in.

Her visitor remained silent .. and calm. Perhaps too calm.

"Unwittingly," Nancy said picking up the thread of her story, "Barbara had revealed Diana's killer to you. It must have been painful for you to look at that necklace, knowing the killer was sitting right there .. across the table from you .. eating dinner with you."

Mansville cleared his throat and spoke, "Ahem, you weren't there, but Lance had quite a reaction to the sight of that necklace, too. If not for Melinda, I believe Lance would've strangled Westin right at the table. I don't know why you're looking at me for this murder, Lance has a motive. I don't."

"You both do," Nancy corrected him. "You see, it all comes down to the morning of Chase Westin's murder. Like I said before, everyone has an alibi for the time of his death. Except for you. Paula and Parker James were having breakfast together in their suite. Lance and Melinda were with Bess, and several models, working on last minute details for the fashion show. I was with Barbara Westin looking at the necklace. So, that leaves you. I spoke with your wife this morning and she claims you were gone that morning, well before she woke, and that you left a note saying you wouldn't be back until noon. For the record, she said you returned shortly before twelve."

"Well, then it's my wife's word against mine." Mansville smiled and got to his feet. "I say I was with her that morning. It's up to you and the detectives to prove who's lying."

"Actually, we don't need to prove it either way. It's much easier to check your cell phone. You had to call Westin to arrange the meeting with him. That means there's a record of the call."

That sparked a flicker of fear and anger in Mansville's eyes.

Nancy continued, "The police are on their way now with a search warrant for your phone and phone records."

Mansville pushed in his chair and lowered his head. "You think that if I committed this murder I'd be stupid enough to use my own cell phone?"

"Maybe." Nancy sensed she'd touched a nerve. Time to touch a few more. "Diana must have meant something to you. She must have been very special .."

"You have no idea." His voice was low and strained.

Nancy kept an eye on the board shouldered man standing less than two feet away. In spite of being sixty years old, he was in remarkably good shape.

Nancy's grip on the back of the chair tightened. "Then explain it to me, Mr. Mansville. How does a person go from receiving one of the Army's highest honors, the Distinguished Service Cross, to murdering someone?"

That hit home. His steel-blue eyes narrowed to thin slits. "You've done your homework I see. Looking into my background."

"Actually, it was Frank. He's very thorough. Your service record speaks volumes about you. It's a career most people could only dream of. You served in the best of the best, the Green Berets. You were highly decorated. You earned the respect and trust of the men serving under you. You saved lives. There are many who would envy such a prestigious career. You have a lot to be proud of."

"Green Berets," he said and calmly looked around the room. "Twenty-five years. I still know a few tricks."

"Like how to snap a person's neck," Nancy's voice was low and soft.

A small smile of pride lifted the corners of Mansville's mouth and touched his eyes. "Yes, like that. I'll admit, I did approach Westin with caution. He's a little younger than me, but," a shrug and a sigh, "so full of himself. Such a fool. He thought he was going to kill me." A flicker of pride. "Guess I showed him, didn't I?" The smile dropped from his face and anger filled his voice. "Westin was so damned arrogant. I can't say I'm sorry about .. about what I did. He took something from me .." He didn't finish. He couldn't finish. He glared into the distance remembering a past only he could see.

"Diana Collins?" Nancy suggested.

"Yes." Mansville stepped toward Nancy. "He killed her. So, I killed him."

Those were the words Nancy needed to hear.

Mansville took another step. "I say let sleeping dogs lie. Justice has been served."

Nancy backed away from Mansville, her back brushed the wall.

Another step brought him within an arm's length of her. "I have to kill you," he said matter-of-factly. "You do see that, don't you? I've confessed to you."

Nancy was pressed into the corner behind the glass table. He reached for her and she knocked his hand away. "Stay back." She brought her arms up in a defensive posture.

Mansville shook his head. "You may be better trained than Westin. Might have more skills, but believe me, you're not leaving this room alive."

I wouldn't count on that, Nancy thought as she tensed. Mansville lunged for her. She used the wall to brace herself and delivered a swift, hard kick to his sternum. It sent him twisting to the side, arms flailing, trying to maintain his balance. Nancy seized the opportunity and dove for the bed. She planned to crawl across it and run to the door.

She got to the bed and was almost across it when a hand slammed into her back. The next thing she knew she was being crushed into the sheets. Her right arm was trapped beneath her and a knee was pressed into her hips. An elbow ground into her spine sending pricks of pain up and down her back. A strong hand clamped around the back of her neck and held her head firmly face-down.

She wiggled and writhed, tried to punch Mansville with her free left arm. He avoided the weak blows, grabbed the arm, and twisted it behind her back. Then he pushed her face deeper into the bed, cutting off her air. She squirmed and struggled, desperate for air.

He bent over her and put his mouth close to her ear. The edge of his glasses touched her cheek. His breath was hot against her neck. "Okay, let's take it slow and easy. If you want to breathe you're going to stop fighting. Is that understood?"

Nancy stopped moving. She had no choice, she needed air. Hopefully, he would keep his promise. Mansville had surprised her. He'd recovered quickly from her kick and in seconds had had her pinned. She wouldn't take him for granted again. He was strong and she had a newfound respect for him and her precarious situation.

He eased off the pressure and she managed a quick breath. Okay, Frank could show up now and she wouldn't complain one bit.

Mansville bent over her again and twisted her left arm painfully while his knee ground into her hips. She bit back a cry of pain.

It was as if he'd read her mind. What he said next chilled her to the bone. "Oh, and if you're counting on Frank showing up … don't. He's been taken care of."

Oh God. No. They really had underestimated Mansville.

"Don't fret. He's not dead." Pride slipped into Mansville's voice again. "No need to kill him. I didn't confess to him."

Nancy choked out, "There's no reason to kill me. Think about your career, your honor −"

"This isn't about honor, my career, or what's right or wrong," he growled into her ear. "This is about hate and revenge. Tell me, how do you think Frank will react when he finds out I've killed you? You think he'll sit back and let the justice system handle things? Dole out a petty punishment? I don't think so. He'll want revenge, the ultimate revenge. He won't care about the consequences. That's right, Miss Drew. Morals, respect, decency; none of those things mean a damn when someone you love is taken from you. Murdered senselessly. All you want is the guilty person to pay. To pay for what they did. It's all you think about. It consumes you. Frank will suffer a fate worse than death. His hate will slowly eat him alive."

Mansville crushed Nancy against the bed. Her situation was dire. Frank wasn't coming to her rescue. Still, she was worried about him. He was alive she reminded herself. Mansville had said Frank was alive.

# # # #

Frank woke with a splitting headache and blurred vision. Not surprising given the knock-out blow he'd received. He was gagged and bound to a metal chair. A dull ache pulsed in his gut and his jaw throbbed like a jackhammer. He tried to think, but the drumming in his head made the effort difficult.

He blinked slowly and his vision cleared. He took stock of his surroundings. The odd assortment of furniture – tables, chairs, mattresses, and lamps – stacked along the walls, told him he was in a storage room. More chairs, identical to the one he was tied to, were stacked in one corner of the large room. A forest of Christmas trees took up another corner. Strand after strand of Christmas lights and decorations were stacked in neat piles next to the trees. A long fluorescent light, that the guards probably forgot to turn off, shone down on him.

As to his situation, a rope encircled his chest and arms and the chair's back. His ankles were bound to the chair's legs. The back and seat of the chair were cushioned, not that that afforded Frank much comfort. He pushed against the ropes. Gauged how tight they were. Tight enough, he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Maybe if he kept pushing and twisted side to side, he could loosen the ropes. With enough slack he could free an arm. His hands were not tied together. That careless mistake offered him the chance of freedom.

He twisted and squirmed. Strained every muscle against the ropes. He grunted and groaned into the gag. He wondered how long he had been there, all tied up like a Thanksgiving turkey.

Nancy's meeting with John Mansville sprang to his mind. Nancy's safety depended on him being there to protect her. If he didn't free himself soon, she would be facing Mansville alone.

If she wasn't already.

Panic skidded along his spine and beads of sweat dotted his brow. He struggled violently against the ropes. He had to get out of there and fast. All he needed was one arm free, then he could get to his cell phone holstered on his belt and the pocketknife tucked in his pocket.

He wiggled and squirmed and silently hoped that Joe had picked up on his unspoken message.

Everything was in Joe's hands now.

# # # #

It was five minutes after eleven. Joe was in the hotel lobby staring at his cell phone. Frank had failed to check-in at eleven. That could only mean one thing. Trouble. Trouble with a capital T.

Joe scanned the hotel lobby. He was pretty sure he knew exactly what the trouble was, too. He glanced over his left shoulder and saw the tall guard with the lumpy nose saunter past .. again.

Not too subtle are you, big fellow, Joe thought. I picked up on the fact you and your little buddy were following me ten minutes ago. I also have a feeling you're the reason Frank's not answering his phone.

Joe's brow creased into a concerned frown. If Frank was out of commission that meant Nancy had no backup.

It was time to put Joe's plan into action.

A/N: Gotta love Joe. :)