TO DIE FOR (Eva Rae Thomas Mystery Book 8)

by Willow Rose

  She could taste her own blood as she was being dragged by the hair across the tiles, turned around, and tied up using duct tape. She lay there, fighting to remain conscious while the person stood above her, panting, gun in hand.

  “You never should have come back, Sarah. It wasn’t a very smart move. But then again, you never were that clever, were you?”

  Sarah groaned behind the duct tape that was covering her lips. She really did feel stupid right now. If only she had kept running instead of staying with her brother. If only she had gotten out of here while there was still time.

  You’re stupid, Sarah. You really are stupid!

  The question now was what would happen to her next. Would she end up back in the chains in the room in the basement? Would she be kept down there for what felt like another eternity? Living off the mercy of her capturer? Or would she be killed right there on the kitchen floor?

  Sarah cried and whimpered as the person bent down, placed a kiss on her forehead, and then looked into her eyes.

  “I’m sorry it had to end this way, Sarah. I really am. But it’s over now. We’re over. No need to drag it out. Let’s end this now.”

  The person walked away for a few minutes and then returned with a big sledgehammer between their hands.

  “A gun makes too much noise.”

  Sarah stared at the huge sledgehammer, heart dropping. She wanted to beg and plead for her life, but she knew it would be no use. She was going to die a violent and gruesome death right here on this kitchen floor.

  It really was over.

  Sarah closed her eyes and laid her head down on the cold tile, waiting for the pain, hoping and praying it would be over quickly, that it wouldn’t take more than one blow for her to die.

  She waited for it, coming to terms with the fact that it was all over, while the person lifted the sledgehammer and let it whistle through the air when suddenly a noise coming from outside the house made everything stop, the hammer dangling mid-air.

  It was the sound of a car door slamming shut.

  Sarah lifted her head, tears streaming across her cheeks, then looked toward the door where footsteps were approaching, and soon the doorbell rang. She could barely breathe behind the tape, and as her heart throbbed in her chest, her mind suddenly overwhelmed with hope.

  Someone’s at the front door! Someone is here!

  Chapter 67

  It was pitch dark out as I walked up toward the old two-story house. In daylight, it had looked so pretty with its white wood, green-shuttered windows, and an old-Florida style entrance that was sheltered from the often-heavy rain. Not to mention the lush yard that surrounded it and the lake in the background. But in the dark, it suddenly seemed beyond creepy. Maybe it was just the situation.

  I took a deep breath, then rang the doorbell.

  Nothing happened.

  I rang it again, then knocked.

  “Hello? Isabella Hayton? Hello?”

  A few seconds went by, and then the door swung open. The tall, slender woman stood in front of me, wearing her suit jacket and black skirt. Her alabaster skin seemed paler than the last time I had seen her.

  “Yes? Oh, it’s you again. What do you want?”

  I was about to speak when she interrupted me.

  “Listen, I have had a really long day. I’ve told you everything I know about my brother and the fire. I don’t have the…”

  I pulled out my badge and showed it to her. “I’m looking for Sarah Abbey. I have reason to believe she might be here.”

  Isabella stared at my badge, then up at my face. She lifted her nose toward the sky and looked down at me, her lower lip lightly vibrating as she spoke again, “Well, she’s not. There’s no one here. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I…”

  She was about to close the door when I put a foot in to block it.

  “Not so fast.”

  Isabella stared at my foot, then up at me. “Excuse me?”

  “I have a question that has been bothering me,” I said.

  “Oh, by all means, do tell,” she said. “I am dying to know what it is.”

  I sent her a sarcastic smile. “Could you please explain to me why you told me your name is Isabella Hayton when the name of the person who owns and lives in the house is something else, according to the official records?”

  Isabella narrowed her eyes. “My mother bought it for me. She still keeps her address here.”

  “Really?”

  Isabella gave me a look. She was a good liar but obviously unaware that her lower lip quivered when she did.

  “Yes, really. Now, I need to go…”

  “What if I tell you I don’t think you’re Jeffrey Johnson’s sister at all?”

  “Excuse me?”

  The vibration became worse, and she knew she was revealed. The question was what she’d do next. I kept my right hand on the handle of my gun in the holster on my back.

  “What if I tell you he didn’t have a sister?”

  Her lips grew tight. She shook her head.

  “That’s just…”

  “A lie? Reality? Do you even know the difference anymore?”

  “I am not going to stand here and listen to this…” she trailed off.

  “You were his therapist, weren’t you? It says so in the police report. It says that the detectives went to you to find him when he ran from the police in connection with the murder of his ex-girlfriend, Joanna Harry. They went to talk to his therapist, Lynn Parks, which is, funnily enough, the name of the owner of this house.”

  The woman in front of me was barely moving.

  “Did you buy this house to be closer to him? It says in the official papers that you bought it a year before he died in that fire. Why did you do that? You were obsessed with him, weren’t you? This way, you could keep an eye on him constantly. You could make sure he didn’t see other women. It’s not unusual to have sexual feelings for your patients or vice versa. It’s actually very normal in a therapeutic setting, but you took it too far, didn’t you? And it spiraled out of control for you.”

  Chapter 68

  THEN:

  “What the heck is this supposed to mean? Doc?”

  Jeff held the notepad tightly between his hands, then turned it and showed it to Lynn. His eyes were torn in disbelief.

  “I…killed her?” Jeff continued, then flipped a page, then another. “Why have you written that all over your notepad? Hundreds of times on each and every page?”

  Lynn tried to smile. “Jeff. Sit down, and then we can talk. You’re agitated. Please, calm yourself down.”

  A deep furrow had grown between his eyes, and it wasn’t easing up. “Is it true? Did…did you kill Joanna?”

  Lynn exhaled. “Absolutely.”

  “W-what?”

  She lifted her hand. “I did it for you, Jeff.”

  He shook his head, then paced back and forth. “You did it for me? What’s that even supposed to mean? I don’t understand anything right now…I…can’t breathe…please, tell me this is some sick joke.”

  She closed her eyes briefly. His agitation annoyed her. Nothing good ever came from being frantic—only rash, stupid decisions.

  “Jeff,” she said, using her authoritative voice, looking up at him. “She hurt you. She hurt you so deeply when she left you.”

  He looked appalled. “So…you…kidnapped her and kept her in your…basement?”

  Lynn smiled secretively. “Well, you gave me the idea for that one. I thought it was fitting. I invited her over to my new house, telling her I needed to talk to her about you, and then I slipped a sedative into her iced tea. I kept her down there for a couple of months. We got into a fight one day when she was trying to escape, and she fell and hurt the back of her head. I took her body to the lake by our houses and dumped her, thinking the alligators would get rid of the body, but well…you know the rest.”

  Jeff stared down at her, not blinking. His lips were parted like he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

  “
So…you…you did all that to her? To Joanna? And now the police are searching for me?”

  “Yes, that is most unfortunate.”

  Jeff ran a hand through his hair, then pulled on the sides of it. He finally sat down and hid his face between the hands.

  “I’m gonna go to jail for this, for what you did?”

  Lynn leaned forward and placed a hand on his knee. He looked up, and their eyes met. For a second, they shared a loving gaze; at least she believed they did, but then Jeff’s went dark as a shadow came over his face.

  “I’m gonna have to tell them about us. I’m going to have to tell them everything. About the kisses, about the sex, and about you…and what you’ve done.”

  Lynn’s eyes grew wide for a second, and she pulled her hand back from his knee with a swift movement.

  “You can’t do that.”

  He rose to his feet. “But I have to. It’s the only way. I’ll tell them everything. Come clean.”

  Lynn shook her head.

  “It’s either that, or you will tell them everything, Doc. As you said, it was an accident. You didn’t mean for her to die. I’ll give you until the morning. If you haven’t spoken to the police by then, I will.”

  Lynn opened her mouth to speak, but as she did, Jeff rose to his feet. He left before she could protest, slamming the door.

  “Should I call the police now?” her secretary asked when he was gone.

  Lynn composed herself, clenching her fists hard. Then she shook her head while controlling her breathing.

  “No. Not yet. Let’s give him some time to come to his senses.”

  Chapter 69

  Sarah heard the voices in the distance. They were getting louder and sounded like they were arguing now. She thought she had heard her own name mentioned, and that had filled her with a last ray of hope.

  Had this person come looking for her?

  I gotta make some noise somehow, let them know I’m here! It’s my last and only chance.

  Sarah tried to scream behind the duct tape, but not much sound left her mouth, not enough to reach them out by the front door from the kitchen floor where she was still lying. Lynn had put the sledgehammer down by the end of the counter, and Sarah saw it now, then wondered if she could get close enough, if she could tip it over, and maybe somehow make a loud enough noise to let them know she was in there. Or perhaps she could get on her knees and pull something down from the counter?

  Sarah tried to get up on her knees and spotted a plate not far away. If only she could get herself close enough.

  Sarah laid back down on the cold tiles, then wormed her way across the floor. Then she rose to her knees again but slipped, and fell back down, face flat into the tiles. She whimpered in pain behind the duct tape as her head started to pound.

  Sarah closed her eyes and cried before managing to press herself back up and onto her knees. It wasn’t easy with her hands tied behind her back. She had to press her back up against the cabinet doors in order not to fall again and then slowly push herself upward. As she turned her head, she spotted the plate. It was right in front of her face, but she had no way of reaching it. She strained herself to try and pull her hands free but with no luck. And she couldn’t get her face close enough to push it.

  So close.

  Sarah let herself slide back down, crying, and sat on the floor, while she could hear the voices grow more and more agitated by the door.

  You have to let them know you’re here. You have to! Come on, Sarah. Think of something. Think!

  Sarah sighed and scanned the area around her. She was so exhausted, and hope was leaving her fast.

  “You were his therapist, weren’t you?” she heard a voice say.

  Sarah’s eyes shot open. This person wasn’t only looking for her; she had actually figured Lynn out. She knew!

  I’m here! I’m in here!

  Sarah strained herself to worm a few inches further. She squirmed and squiggled until she could slide past the counter and now see the front door at the end of the living room. She could even see the woman’s face, the one standing in the doorway talking to Lynn. She recognized her from the day she had come with Scott to her brother’s house.

  Help!

  Sarah wiggled across the floor again when she spotted a big antique vase as tall as a small child with flowers in it by the corner. All she needed to do was to make it a little further, and then…

  Sarah fought with all she had when she heard Lynn’s voice say, “Now, I have had enough. I know my rights. If you don’t have a warrant, then I will have to ask you to leave my property.”

  Hurry, Sarah, hurry!

  Sarah pushed herself across the tiles and got closer and closer to the big vase, then turned around, so she could try and reach it with her legs when she heard the front door slam shut, and one second later, Lynn was standing above her, looking down at her, smiling.

  “And what exactly do you think you’re doing, huh?”

  Sarah closed her eyes, then lifted both her tied-up legs into the air before slamming them into the vase.

  Chapter 70

  “I’m on my way home now.”

  I pressed the phone against my ear as I unlocked the minivan and was about to get in when I heard the loud crash coming from inside the house I had just left. My eyes grew wide, and I turned to stare at the front door that Lynn Parks had just slammed in my face, telling me she wasn’t talking to me anymore unless I brought her a warrant.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  My dad grunted on the other end. “What was what?”

  I kept looking at the house in front of me, my heart beating fast in my chest. My instinct told me I couldn’t leave—not until I checked out what had made that loud noise.

  “Never mind. I’m not coming home just yet,” I said and hung up. I put the phone away, then grabbed my gun and pulled it out. I walked closer to a window, then hid next to it before peeking inside.

  And right there, in the middle of the floor, I spotted Sarah Abbey. Her arms and legs were tied up, and Lynn Parks was hovering above her, slapping her face. The floor was covered in broken ceramic pieces, and flowers were spread onto the tiles. Lynn soon stopped, then pulled away. She disappeared, and a second later, she came back with a big sledgehammer between her hands.

  I stared at her carrying that thing toward Sarah, and my heart completely stopped.

  Then, I acted fast. I grabbed a garden gnome standing beneath the window, then threw it through the window, shattering it. The noise made Lynn turn her head and look toward me. I pointed my gun at her.

  “Stop right there, Lynn!”

  I used the gun to remove pieces of glass, so I could crawl through the window without cutting myself.

  “Drop your weapon,” I yelled at Lynn. “Drop the hammer, now!”

  Lynn stared at me, hammer still held up in the air, then looked down at Sarah on the floor in visible distress, fear painted on her face.

  “I’m serious, Lynn. I will shoot you if you don’t drop the hammer now.”

  Lynn didn’t even look at me. She just stood there like she was contemplating what would be worse—being shot or missing the opportunity to kill Sarah.

  Finally, she decided to do as I said. She put it down on the floor, then looked at me, panting agitatedly. I approached her, my heart throbbing in my chest, gun pointed at her.

  “Step away from the hammer,” I said. “And from Sarah.”

  Lynn did as I told her and took one step back, then two. I knelt next to Sarah, still keeping my eyes fixated on Lynn, then removed the duct tape from her hands, legs, and mouth. Sarah cried and sat up, then hugged me, sobbing uncontrollably.

  “She…she tried to kill me…she kept me in that basement…down there…”

  Sarah pointed toward the stairs, and I nodded, then caressed her hair with the hand not holding the gun.

  “I know. I know everything. The only thing I’m not quite sure of yet is how you two know one another and why she wanted to kill you.”r />
  Chapter 71

  THEN:

  Lynn was whistling while doodling on her notepad. She looked at her drawing—a house on fire, a man inside, lying in his bed, slowly perishing while flames were licking his body. What the beholder of the drawing couldn’t possibly know—only Lynn did—was that the man was passed out. A sedative was slipped into his drink earlier that night, and then he was placed in bed with a lit cigarette between his fingers. Later, the forensics report would state that the fire originated in the bedroom from the cigarette that probably caught the pillow on fire while the man was asleep. The toxicology report would later show he had taken sleeping pills. Suicide, some might conclude, but they’d never know for sure. But it made sense. He was, after all, suspected of having murdered his girlfriend. The police were onto him, and it all became too much for him. And his car? Lynn put it in her own garage before starting the fire. She needed it for later use. A vehicle that was believed ravaged in a fire could have all kinds of uses.

  “Your ten o’clock is here,” her secretary said.

  Lynn tilted her head and studied her drawing to make sure she had gotten all the details in. Then she smiled and looked up at her secretary.

  “I’m ready.”

  The secretary disappeared, and Lynn stared at her drawing, then ripped the page off and curled the paper up between her hands. She threw the ball of paper through the room, aiming for the trash bin in the corner. She hit it on her first shot just as her next patient came inside.

  Lynn lifted her gaze and met that of the woman standing in the doorway. She was absolutely stunning, Lynn thought right away. Breathtaking.

  “Hi,” the woman said nervously. There was always something so sweet about new patients. They were so innocent, so vulnerable right when they came to her the first time. Lynn felt a tickle of excitement in her stomach.

  “I’m Sarah Abbey,” she continued.

  Lynn rose to her feet, then reached out her hand. “Hi, Sarah. Welcome. Please, do sit down. Make yourself comfortable.”