Part 15 (1/2)
Jeff Farley stood unsmiling on the porch. The two-story, weathered wooden house on pilings overlooked a dune bright with October color, the pale violet of b.u.t.terfly peas and the s.h.i.+mmering gold of camphorweed. Beyond the dune, the beach stretched two hundred peaceful yards to the ocean. No other dwelling was within view. Annie stood halfway up the wooden steps, clinging to the railing, and the wind off the ocean touched her with the light fresh scent of salt. This was a choice beachfront exposure on a perfect autumn day, yet there was a sense of darkness and isolation here. Did it come from the almost feral gleam in Jeff Farley's light brown eyes? He didn't look much like an overage cheerleader now, though he wore white duck pants and a white knit V-neck pullover with navy trim. He stood rigidly, his arms tight against his sides.
”I need to talk to you, Jeff.” Annie raised her voice against the rumble of the surf.
”We're busy.” His voice was flat and hostile. He was turning away to close the door on her.
”Then you want me to give Elliot's information to Chief Saulter?”
Jeff stiffened, then jerked around to face her. He lunged toward the ladder.
”What the h.e.l.l are you talking about?”
”Look, Jeff, I've come out here to give you and Janis a chance to explain.
If you can't or won't, I don't have any choice but to go to Saulter. You must see that.”
The screen door behind Jeff burst open, and Jan is rushed to the railing.
Annie's eyes widened. The right side of the girl's face was painfully swollen. A reddish-purple bruise spread from cheekbone to jawline, hideously distinct against her pallid skin.
Jeff glanced distractedly toward his wife. ”Get back inside.”
Janis looked at him fearfully, but she took one step, another, then ran to the edge of the stairs. ”Oh, Annie, please don't tell. He can't help it. He doesn't mean it, it just happens sometimes. He gets so mad, and that's what they did to him when he was a little boy. That and worse. They burned him-”
Jeff caught her from behind and whirled her around. The back of his hand hit her face with a stinging slap.
Janis screamed as the blow struck that inflamed skin.
Annie yelled, ”Stop that! Stop it!” Pulling the mace out of her pocket, she charged up the porch steps.
He was using his fists now, raining blows on Janis's bent back as she huddled against the wall of the beach house.
A stream of spray from the mace container caught the side of Jeff's face.
He staggered back, his hands clawing at his face. A spasm of coughing and choking convulsed his body.
Janis, blood trickling from her mouth, turned toward Annie, arms flailing, and lunged vengefully at her, screaming incoherent curses as she rained blows on her astonished protectress. Max shot up the steps and caught Janis by the arms, imprisoning her.
”It's just mace. He'll be all right. My G.o.d, Janis, I had to stop him. He was hurting you!”
”He didn't mean it. You've got to understand. He doesn't mean to hurt me. He loves me,” she whimpered brokenly. ”You can't know what he's endured-”
”Did Jeff threaten Elliot when he knew Elliot was going to tell everyone?”
”That wouldn't matter,” Janis said desperately. ”It doesn't matter what he said-or what he does to me. Jeff wouldn't kill anyone. That's crazy.
He wouldn't kill Elliot-or Jill or Harriet. Never.”
”But he beats you,” Annie said wearily.
”He doesn't mean it.” Janis held out trembling hands. ”Please, please don't tell anyone. If you do-”
”Shut up, Janis. Don't be a b.l.o.o.d.y fool.” Jeff's face was mottled with rage and pain.
”Janis, don't stay here with him. Come with us. You can stay with me,”
Annie offered.
Janis wiped the blood away from her chin. Her eyes filled with tears, but she shook her head. She wouldn't come with them no matter how they protested.
”You'll have to get him to a doctor,” Annie said urgently, ”or one of these days, he will kill you.”
But Janis wouldn't leave him.
”We'll have to tell Saulter,” Max said grimly as they drove back to the main part of the island.
”If it gets in the papers, they'll be finished.”
”Finished? What do you mean?”
”As writers.”
”What does wife beating have to do with writing?”
”Probably not much-except in their case. They write for children. Do you think a children's publisher is going to keep an author who regularly bloodies his wife? Think again, Mr. Darling.”
”Oh. So they have a h.e.l.l of a motive. Both of them.”
”Not her. She can't do anything without him.”
”May I remind you that she was ready to tear your eyes out when she thought he was threatened. What do you think she would do to somebody like Elliot who was going to spread all this out for the enlightenment of the Sunday Night Regulars?”
”Punch him. At the least. Still, I can't believe Janis would have the gumption to figure out such a clever plan. But Jeff could-and she'd never give him away.”
As the Porsche zoomed away from the beach house, Annie said tightly, ”You know, I'd almost give Elliot's murderer a gold star-if it weren't for Jill and Harriet and Uncle Ambrose.”
They were soon arguing over their next stop, Max plumping for Kelly Rizzoli, Annie preferring Capt. Mac, when a siren shrilled behind them.
Max pulled over. ”Thirty miles an hour. I swear, I was going thirty miles an hour.”
But Broward's Rock's only motorcycle cop was having a Mannix day. He wasn't thinking speed limits.
He dismounted and leaned down to look past Max. ”Chief Saulter wants to see you, Miss.”
Chief Saulter didn't want Max there, but Max wouldn't budge.
”You can talk to my client only if I am present, Chief.” Max folded his hands across his chest and looked immovable.
”I can put your client in jail, Counselor.”