You Will Suffer

by Alexandra Ivy

  She’d assumed.

  She’d assumed that it must be someone who’d lived in Curry all those years ago. And that it was a man. And that the villain’s motives had something to do with money and greed.

  “You were there?” she asked.

  A muscle next to the woman’s mouth twitched. There was some strong emotion she was trying to keep hidden.

  “Unfortunately.”

  Ellie carefully leaned forward, using the motion to inch toward the edge of the cushion. The squishy material was as effective in keeping her trapped as if she’d been tied to the chair. It was like moving through molasses.

  “Why unfortunately?” she asked, trying to keep the woman distracted. “I thought it was a rehab facility that was created to help people.”

  Paula released a short, angry laugh. “That’s what was listed on the brochure.”

  “But it wasn’t?”

  “So innocent,” Paula mocked, reaching down without warning to grab Ellie’s chin in a brutal grip. “Did you like my gifts?”

  Ellie swallowed her cry of pain. She wouldn’t give the woman the satisfaction of knowing she was hurting her.

  “Gifts?” It took an effort to speak. The woman was strong. It felt like she might crush her jaw. “You sliced my tires and dumped the rats behind my office?”

  She slowly released her punishing grip and straightened. A mysterious smile tugged at her lips.

  “Daniel took care of the tires. I personally delivered the rats.” Her smile widened. “And set fire to your house.”

  “Daniel worked for you?”

  Paula shrugged. “Until it was time for him to pay for the sins of his father.”

  Nausea rolled through Ellie’s stomach. This woman had obviously taken pleasure in tormenting her. And worse, she’d lured other people into helping with her nasty pranks. Until she’d decided their use-by date had arrived.

  “You killed him.”

  Ellie expected the woman to laugh. Or gloat. Instead, she turned away. As if hiding her expression.

  “The drugs were a nice touch, don’t you think? A moral symmetry.”

  “Nice? You murdered a man who did nothing to you.”

  Paula jerked her head back to glare at Ellie. “I told you. The sins of the father.”

  Father. Ellie shuddered. “Is that why you killed Mandy?”

  “A necessary sacrifice.”

  “Just because Neville Morse was on the board of Hopewell Clinic?”

  “God says an eye for an eye.”

  Ellie studied the woman’s face that had flushed with a dull color. It wasn’t guilt. Or remorse.

  It was anger.

  “Was Barb an eye for an eye as well?”

  Paula scowled, almost as if she was offended by Ellie’s accusation.

  “That wasn’t intentional,” she said. “I never meant to kill her.”

  Ellie gave a small shake of her head, instantly regretting the unconscious gesture. It sent sharp darts shooting through her brain.

  She clenched her teeth, focusing on the woman’s strange behavior. The older woman had seemed smugly proud when Ellie had mentioned the deaths of Daniel and Mandy, but she was on the defense when it came to Barb? Why?

  “You accidentally murdered her?”

  The dull color deepened at Ellie’s disbelief. “She came into the Lodge a few nights ago. Nothing new in that. The woman was a pathetic drunk whose only friend was a bottle of vodka.”

  “What happened?”

  Paula hunched her shoulders. “I’m not sure. Maybe she had a weird flashback. Or maybe the fog in her brain simply cleared long enough for her to see what was standing in front of her.”

  “She recognized you,” she said, puzzled why it would matter. Surely there’d been lots of clients who had been in and out of the clinic.

  “Yeah. She tried to confront me that night, but I managed to shake her off.”

  Ellie was still confused. “That’s when she tried to contact me,” she said, recalling Nate telling her that Barb had been to the Lodge just hours before her frantic calls had started.

  Paula spat out a foul curse. “I knew the stupid bitch would try to warn her precious boss.” Her gaze flicked dismissively over Ellie. “Barb worshipped the ground your father walked on. I could tell that whenever I saw them at the clinic together. I imagine that’s why she turned to drinking. Because she couldn’t have the man she wanted.”

  Ellie dismissed Paula’s mockery of Barb’s unrequited love. She’d already sensed that the poor woman remained desperately infatuated with Colin Guthrie, despite the fact he’d moved away with his family years before.

  Instead she concentrated on the fact that Paula had been worried that Barb might reveal her presence in Curry.

  “What did you do to her?”

  “I snuck through the window,” Paula admitted. “I only meant to convince her to keep her mouth shut.”

  Once again she was struck by Paula’s odd response to Barb. Why just scare her? She’d been a part of the board.

  “I heard you when I was at the house,” Ellie said, easing another inch forward on the cushion.

  Paula didn’t notice. She’d turned to pace from one side of the narrow room to the other. She didn’t seem nervous. It was more anticipation. As if she was waiting for something.

  “I found Barb in the living room. Before I could say a word she was screaming at the top of her lungs. And then she clutched her chest and fell on the floor.” Paula gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “I assumed she was having a heart attack. That’s when I heard the door open and I knew I had to bail. I could only hope that she was too sick to rat me out.”

  Ellie didn’t miss the indifference in her tone. Paula didn’t care that Barb was dead, but she hadn’t wanted to dirty her hands doing it.

  “She must have died of natural causes,” Ellie said, more to herself than her captor.

  “If that’s what you call drinking yourself into an early grave,” Paula drawled.

  Paula had a point. Barb had been racing toward death for twenty years or more. Of course, having someone break into your house didn’t help an already weak heart.

  The thought of breaking into a house sparked a thought in Ellie’s fuzzy brain. “Why did you go back to Barb’s place and search it if all you wanted was for her to keep her mouth shut about you?”

  Paula halted, turning to face Ellie. Her blunt features held an expression of puzzlement.

  “I didn’t.”

  Ellie grimaced. She believed her. Which meant that someone else had snuck into Barb’s house. Not that she intended to waste time thinking about who it might have been. Not now. She had enough troubles, thank you very much.

  “Why did you kill Larry Harper?” she instead demanded. “He didn’t have anything to do with Hopewell Clinic, did he?”

  Paula glanced toward the back of the room. Had she heard a noise? Or was she considering her answer?

  “After the Harpers discovered that Daniel might have been murdered, they decided they would add blackmail to their list of crimes,” she at last said, glancing back at Ellie. “They didn’t have any more talent for that than they did for dealing drugs. I could have run circles around them if I’d still been in the business.”

  Ellie flattened her lips together, resisting the urge to point out that Paula had just admitted to being a drug dealer when she’d earlier claimed she was framed for her crime.

  She wanted to keep her talking. Once she stopped . . . Well, Ellie assumed that bad things were going to happen.

  Besides, she couldn’t deny a morbid curiosity. She’d spent days churning the various possibilities through her brain. She wanted to know what had happened. So far she’d discovered that Daniel had been responsible for the vandalism before he’d been killed. And that his death was related to Mandy’s. She’d also learned that Barb had probably died of a heart attack, and that Larry had been stupid enough to try and squeeze money from a murderer.

  “And your answer to
his blackmail was to kill him?” she asked.

  “He deserved to die.” Her tone indicated that Paula thought a bullet to the head was a perfectly reasonable response.

  “What about his brother?”

  “He’s on the run.” Paula made a sound of disgust. “He’s too much a coward to ever show his face around Curry.”

  Ellie didn’t know Bert Harper, but she suspected that Paula was right. From Nate’s description of the two brothers, it sounded like they were typical bullies. All bluff and bluster until someone stood up to them. Then they bolted like spineless cravens.

  “Why shoot Larry in Nate’s building?”

  A strange glint flared through her eyes at the question. “It was convenient. When I first arrived in Curry I’d considered opening a small coffee shop. I’ve always wanted my own business. I looked at a number of empty buildings around town, but in the end I realized I didn’t have enough money. I had to go to work at the Lodge.”

  Ellie tried to imagine Paula standing behind a counter serving dainty coffee cups with muffins and fresh cookies. It boggled the mind.

  Ellie cleared her throat, at the same time scooting a fraction forward.

  “You stole an extra key from the Realtor?” She asked the question loud enough that it hid the rattle of her handcuffs.

  Paula shrugged, not seeming to notice that Ellie was almost at the edge of the cushion. Or maybe she just didn’t care. It wasn’t like Ellie had much of a chance to escape. She didn’t have a clue where they were, or how many people might be waiting upstairs.

  “An old habit,” Paula readily confessed. “One that came in handy. Not only did I have a private place to get rid of Larry, but it would pin the blame on Nate.” She lifted her arm to lightly touch something that was wrapped around her wrist. “He was becoming a pain.”

  Ellie frowned. Was the woman wearing a bracelet? Hard to see from her angle. Then she dismissed the thought. She was more concerned with the reason Paula had tried to frame Nate. And what she intended to do to him in the future.

  For the first time in her professional career, Ellie was relieved her client was currently locked in a holding cell.

  “I suppose that’s also the reason you left Larry’s car with Dr. Booker in the trunk parked behind his house?” she demanded, unable to halt the edge in her voice.

  Paula smiled, clearly pleased that Ellie was angered by her games.

  “Yes. That dipwad sheriff was anxious to blame someone for the trouble in Curry and it was obvious he resented a good-looking FBI agent in town. It was easy to make sure that he had a reason to toss your boyfriend in jail. Once he was out of the way I could bring you here without worrying about being interrupted.”

  Regret formed a heavy knot in the pit of Ellie’s stomach. She’d feared that she was putting Nate in danger. Her father’s connection to Hopewell Clinic made her an obvious target. Plus, his choice to investigate what was happening was directly because of his need to protect her.

  But only now did she realize it was entirely her fault that he’d been arrested for murder.

  “Why me?”

  Paula’s face lit up. Like a child who’d just been offered a treat.

  “I thought you would never ask.” The woman moved toward the blankets that divided the room. Glancing back at Ellie, she reached for the rope that held them up and gave a sharp tug. On cue, the blankets dropped to the cement floor. Paula chuckled with glee. “Ta-da.”

  Ellie jerked, wondering for a crazed moment if she was hallucinating. It wasn’t an old washer and dryer behind the blankets. Or storage containers. Instead it was her father and Mayor Chambers, tied to crosses made from rough wood and attached to the back wall.

  For a horrifying second, Ellie thought they were dead. That the crazy-ass Paula had actually crucified the men. Then, sucking in a deep breath, she forced herself to take a closer look.

  The mayor was disheveled, with rips in his slacks and shirt and dirt embedded in his skin. His hair was standing up straight in some places and matted in others, and his eyes were swollen shut. He slumped against the thick ropes that held him to the cross, clearly unconscious. There was a gag shoved between his bloody lips. He looked like he’d been tied to the back of a truck and dragged through the back roads.

  And maybe he had.

  Still, she caught the small up and down movement of his chest. He was alive. For now.

  Her attention turned to her father. He was battered and bruised, but he looked considerably better than the mayor. As the blanket fell, he lifted his head to glare at Paula with an expression of extreme contempt. He would no doubt have blistered her with a furious tirade if he hadn’t been gagged.

  Colin Guthrie would remain defiant to the end.

  At last he turned his head to take in the sight of his daughter, who was cuffed and seated a few feet away. His jaw tightened. Whether with anger or fear, it was impossible to know.

  “Oh my God,” Ellie breathed. “What have you done?”

  Paula waved a hand toward the men. “Justice.”

  “Justice for what?”

  Paula strolled to stand next to Ellie’s father, a smug expression on her face.

  “Do you want to tell her, or do you want me to?”

  Colin turned his head away. Paula laughed. As if it was a great joke.

  “Fine. Then I’ll do it,” she said, swiveling to face Ellie. “Your self-righteous prick of a father used to be my pimp.”

  Ellie studied the woman with a blank sense of disbelief. Was it some sort of sick joke? Or just her way of trying to embarrass Ellie’s father? Colin Guthrie was a man whose entire existence was grimly dedicated to upholding the law. There wouldn’t be anything more horrifying to him than being accused of involvement in the sex trade.

  When Paula simply met her stare with a mocking smile, Ellie gave a shake of her head.

  “That’s a lie,” she rasped, flinching as pain shot down her spine.

  “Oh no. It’s the god-honest truth,” Paula assured her, reaching out to pat Colin’s shoulder. “Isn’t it?”

  The judge kept his head turned away, but there was a tightening to his jaw that sent a strange chill snaking down Ellie’s spine.

  “I don’t believe you,” she forced herself to say.

  Paula’s fingers tightened on Colin’s shoulder until her knuckles turned white. “The Hopewell Clinic that passed itself off as a rehab facility was no more than a whorehouse for the rich and powerful in Oklahoma.”

  Ellie watched her father’s reaction. Even though he was no doubt in shock at being held a prisoner in this basement, there should have been outrage at the accusation. Or revulsion. Instead, he tilted his chin to a stubborn angle. Like he did when he knew he was in the wrong, but he was going to dig in his heels.

  Her stomach cramped, her aching brain trying to wrap around the vile allegation. Could it be true? She’d suspected there was something strange going on at the clinic. Perhaps even criminal. But prostitution?

  Her mouth felt as if it was stuffed with cotton wool as she tried to control the emotions that swirled through her.

  “My father was only a board member,” she ridiculously blurted out. “Even if what you said is true, I’m sure he didn’t know—”

  “He knew.” Paula cut through her words, her features hardening with an ugly emotion. “He was the one who negotiated with my lawyer and the prosecutor to offer me the opportunity to avoid a seriously long jail sentence by going to rehab. Of course I chose to go to the clinic. What woman wouldn’t?”

  There was such conviction in her voice. She truly believed that Colin Guthrie had deliberately lured her to the clinic to sell her body.

  Oh God. Ellie heard the sound of her cuffs rattling and realized she was trembling.

  “That doesn’t mean he knew what was happening,” she insisted.

  “He personally delivered his friends to the clinic,” Paula spat out. “For all I know he watched as they raped me.”

  Ellie shook her head. “N
o.”

  Paula glared at Ellie’s obstinate expression, then without warning, she reached to grab the gag tied around her father’s mouth. With a violent wrench, she jerked it out of his mouth.

  “It’s the truth, isn’t it?” she rasped. “Tell her.”

  Her father spit the blood out of his mouth before he turned his head to send Paula a glare filled with pure loathing.

  “Bitch.”

  Paula ignored the insult as she reached down to grab a long, thin object that was leaning against the bottom of the cross. At first, Ellie assumed it was a steel pipe, but as Paula lifted it, she could see the handle and small prongs on the tip.

  “I bought this cattle prod at the farm store.” She held it in front of Colin’s face. “It’s surprisingly handy. Let’s see if it will encourage you to talk.”

  Ellie barely kept herself from leaping from the chair. She didn’t want to startle the woman. Not when she was holding the prod less than an inch from her father’s face.

  “Stop,” she pleaded.

  Paula didn’t even glance in her direction. “Confession is good for the soul, isn’t that right, Judge?”

  Colin sniffed in scorn, his nose flaring. It was exactly the wrong thing to do. Paula released a hissing breath as she jabbed the prod against his neck.

  Colin’s body bowed and jerked as the electrical jolt blasted through him. At the same time his eyes rolled back and flecks of foam formed at the edge of his mouth. Ellie cried out as Paula pulled back and her father abruptly slumped, the rope tightly bound around his wrists and ankles the only thing keeping him upright.

  Paula sent Ellie a warning glance, the prod held close to Colin’s neck as Ellie started to rise.

  “Sit.”

  Ellie obeyed. What else could she do? Another jolt from that damned prod might kill her father.

  They waited for Colin to recover, his breath a harsh wheeze in the silence. At last he managed to lift his head, his face as white as snow and his eyes dazed.

  “Answer the question, Judge Guthrie,” Paula commanded.

  The older man opened his lips, but it took several tries before he could finally form the words.