61
Brenner knew the truth the second he saw the gun in Leigh Ann Longfellow’s hand.
“Of course it was you,” he said coldly. “All this time, I thought it was Kendra.”
“Just drive.”
“Where to?”
“I’ll tell you as we go.”
He started the engine, put the car in reverse, and started backing up slowly. He tried to think of a way to signal for help. But where would help come from? He suspected the car behind the trees might have been tailing him, but that wouldn’t do him any good if Leigh Ann shot him. If he needed to stand trial for extortion, so be it. Right now, all he wanted was to survive. He had to find a way to distract her.
“I saw you together,” he said. “You and Martin. The two of you seemed . . . had the hots for each other. And he was no threat. Why would you kill him?”
Leigh Ann seemed less tense. She was still confident—the way he usually was—and seemed to regain control over the panic he had seen in her when she first pulled out the gun. He had no idea whether that was to his benefit or not. All he knew was that he needed to keep her talking. He was buying time. She didn’t seem to notice he had stopped backing up.
“I thought he was harmless, too. That probably explains why I took up with him. I was bored out of my mind, and Martin made for a nice companion in Danny’s absence. But in love? With him?” Clearly she found the idea ludicrous. “When he’d talk about his big plans for us to leave Kendra and Danny to be together, I’d pretend to go along with it, but I never thought he actually believed it. The last thing I wanted to be was some doctor’s wife, let alone a stepmother. I don’t even like children. And when Danny got word about the Senate seat, I knew the two of us would be okay again. I told Martin it was over. But he wouldn’t accept it. He threatened to tell Danny about the affair if I cut things off with him. I told him, ‘Do what you will. Daniel worships me.’ He’d never leave me. If anything, he’d only work harder for my affection. But then Martin threatened to tell the media, right as Danny’s career was taking off again. I couldn’t let that happen.”
Brenner knew right then and there that he was looking into the eyes of a woman who could justify anything. In her mind, Kendra and Daniel were to blame for the affair she and Martin chose to conduct, Martin was to blame for his own death, and, surely, Brenner was to blame for the bullet she planned to use on him.
“Does your husband know what you did?” he asked.
“Danny? Of course not. He doesn’t even know I own a gun. I bought it to protect myself when he started spending so much time in Albany. I had to buy it on the street because heaven forbid that New York City voters find out their elected representative keeps a gun in his house. In fact, he was so convinced of my innocence that he didn’t hesitate to tell the police I was with him in D.C. that night. I told him it was the easiest way to make sure the investigation focused on finding the real killer.”
Brenner owned four different weapons, and they were all at home. That’s how confident he had been about his sense of control. For five years, he believed that he owned both Kendra and Leigh Ann. Man, they had proven him wrong.
“I told you to drive.” Leigh Ann’s voice was now steely.
Brenner shifted from reverse to drive and turned toward the road that would be their exit from the park.
He pictured them on a remote industrial road. She’d leave him with a bullet in his head. She’d stage a suicide, placing her unregistered gun in his hand. He’d be blamed for Martin Bell’s murder and buried in Potter’s Field.
“I think one of us was followed here,” he said, gesturing at the grove of trees in the distance to their left. It was the break he needed. For an instant Leigh Ann took her eyes off him. He jammed his foot on the accelerator and turned the wheel hard left. The 707-horsepower engine responded with a loud roar and skidded toward the railroad tie barrier. As Leigh Ann balanced herself and aimed the gun in his direction, the front wheels of Brenner’s car hit the barrier. It sent the vehicle vaulting into the air. Leigh Ann pulled the trigger, but the shot passed Brenner and partially shattered the windshield on his side.
Brenner grabbed Leigh Ann’s arm, trying to wrest the pistol from her hand. He had it for a second but lost his grip as the car bounced when it hit the ground. He got hold of Leigh Ann’s wrist and tried to keep the gun pointed toward the dashboard. It fired again, shattering the navigation screen.
Brenner threw himself off his seat toward Leigh Ann. Holding her wrist with one hand, he was able to grab the barrel of the pistol with the other. With one quick jerk, he hoped to dislodge it from her hand. But then he heard a loud crash as he was thrown toward the dashboard and back, followed by what he thought was a gunshot. The car had come to rest after hitting the concrete support of the fence behind home plate. Both airbags had deployed, leaving Brenner and Leigh Ann stunned.
Leigh Ann opened her eyes and saw Brenner slumped sideways in his seat, his head down on his chest. When she moved her foot, she felt it hit something on the floor of the passenger’s seat. Pushing aside the deflated airbag, she reached down and picked up the pistol.