Psychological Thriller Boxed Set

by Addison Moore

  “Great. I want to see Lizzy’s laptop.” I throw it out like a stone, wanting to see if he’ll catch it. “It’s in evidence, and my mom is convinced she’s got prized family recipes on lockdown in there. She was downright distraught that she couldn’t find her mother’s recipe before the holiday, and a meltdown ensued. I told her I’d give it a look before Christmas.” It’s a lie, but I didn’t want Neil to think I came filled with doubts. I did, but that’s not the point.

  “Hell yes. Let me get it. It’ll have to stay here, but feel free to scour all the recipes you want, sweetcakes.” He offers up a cheesy wink as he rises from his seat. “In fact, I think I remember a file labeled just that.”

  I know they’re there. I happened to be at my mother’s while she was copying them out of a recipe book. I shoot a quick text to Jackson as Neil takes off.

  Call me in five minutes. Tell me you think someone broke into your car last night. Just do it. When I put Neil on the phone, talk his ear off for as long as you can. I hit send and hope to God this works.

  It takes a few minutes for Neil to come in. I pluck a pair of latex gloves off the box on his desk as he hands the thin metallic case over. He plugs it into the wall to wake it up, and my phone rings on cue.

  “Yo?” I nod to Neil as I answer and mouth, “Jackson.” He shakes his head while opening her laptop and getting it started for me. “What? Slow down, man.” I spin Lizzy’s laptop my way. “Hang on.” I pull up Jackson’s texts and delete the entire field before putting the phone back to my ear. “You know what? You really need to slow down. Hang on one more time.” I pull the phone to my chest. “Dude, I’m sorry to ask, but would you calm my pussy of a cousin down and take the phone over to someone who can help him? He’s rambling something about his truck getting broken into. He seems to think it’s pretty serious.”

  Neil gives a slow blink as he leans over and takes the phone from me. “I got this, man. Get your mother what she needs.” He scowls at the phone as he heads on out.

  A surge of adrenaline hits me as I open the word documents in Finder. My sister kept a roster of passwords hidden in a file, and I know this because after listening to her lament her password confusion one too many times, I showed her what I did and she copied it to a T. And bingo. Here it is, AAAcodex. I told her to label it that way. In the event someone stole her laptop, it wouldn’t scream password central. I click into the file and scan it for anything odd. Lizzy’s got basically the same password for everything, give or take the numeral one or an exclamation point for everything from the bank to her library card—Pebbles, a nickname her friends gave her in high school. Nothing out of the ordinary here. Nothing that sends the hair rising on the back of my neck. My pics. There’s a live hyperlink attached, but I don’t dare click it in the event Neil wanders in. Embedded deep in it are the words Beautiful X Girls. Shit. The user name next to it reads Rubyrose, and the password is the same as everything else, Pebbles1. I back out and open and close every file in her documents folder I can in hopes to cover my tracks. By the time Neil comes in, I raise my hands in surrender.

  “Can’t find it anywhere. Mom’s outta luck.” I close down the computer and slide it back to Neil. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” I rise to leave, and he hands me my phone.

  “We’re going to figure this out, man.” He bears into me hard as he says it, and I believe every word. Neil is a good guy. Perhaps not the best investigator on the planet, but then he’s not as invested as I am, as Charlie is on my behalf. “Go enjoy that girlfriend of yours. If anyone deserves some good in their life, it’s you.”

  “Thanks. And I really do appreciate everything you’re doing. I’ll see you around.”

  I take off, and soon as I get in my truck, I write down everything I can remember. Unfortunately for me, it’s time to spend some time with some beautiful girls, and not one of them is Charlie.

  Charlie

  I dream of a man named Randal again. I dream of dying, of floating through the stratosphere to meet up with a heavenly light so it heals me instantly, cleanses me of every last wicked sin. I see the arms of this faceless husband who waits for me. He stretches his fingers to mine, and just as I touch them, I bolt from my bed. I don’t know what it means. But it replays in my mind like a movie trailer of darker days yet to come.

  Before she leaves for morning classes, Gabby shakes every last dirty little detail. She was thrilled to learn that Theo and I had taken things to the next level. By nature I’m not a kiss-and-tell kind of a girl, but Gabby was relentless in her pursuit to winnow all the dirty details from me, so like a good friend I hand-fed them to her. But, of course, I expect to gain things back. You don’t just give away information like that for free. I probed her a bit on Thomas, told her we met, and that he seemed standoffish. He didn’t really, but I needed an opener with her about him and bit into it like a chocolate-covered legal brownie. Apparently, everyone had a soft spot for Thomas, the good guy attorney, including Gabby. He was the “be-all and end-all,” her words, not mine. He was kind and chivalrous, a good listener, and an even better cheerleader as far as supporting and encouraging others. An all-around nice guy. And you can bet I rolled my eyes with that one. Although she had Theo pegged to a T, so I can only assume her gut is right about Thomas. In my opinion, he did seem nice, but the way he glared at Theo for asking about the hotel made me wonder. It could have gone two ways. Either he was pissed Theo was bringing up the fact his ex was sleeping around with other guys—because let’s face it, what else could she have been up to at that place? Or maybe it was something he wanted to keep private. But then, he denied it. I have no reason but to believe him.

  I ended up working a half-shift for Dena today because she has the “Walmart blues,” her exact words. She spent half the night online shopping and came in dead on her feet. So when she called the house, I couldn’t say no. Near the end of my shift, I get a text on my phone. Each time that little technologic wonder buzzes in my pocket, I can’t help but smile. I know it’s Theo. He’s the only one that has the number.

  Takeout at my place?

  I can’t help but beam a smile at it as if it were Theo himself. Sounds great. I’m off in five. Meet me at the Hideaway?

  And Theo does just that. We pick up takeout on the way over, and I take up his hand as he leads me into a small colonial tract house just off the main thoroughfare. It’s adorable with its thick white columns, the wraparound porch, and the bright blue door.

  “I keep meaning to paint it.” He ticks his head toward a cluster of bald patches that are hardly noticeable as he lets us in.

  “Don’t. It adds character,” I say as he extends his hand for me to enter first. He flicks on the lights, revealing hardwood floors, a small dining room with a round glass table, a kitchen with dark granite countertops, and newer looking stainless steel appliances. A couple of navy sofas eat up the living room, both pointing toward an excessively large screen TV. “I love it. This place is amazing!” I give a quick glance over the living room once again, this time looking for signs that Jackson lives here, too. Gabby has spent the night here so often it practically qualifies as a second home as well. The silence is strangling, and the place feels deserted. “I take it Jackson’s not home?”

  “He’s working late. He mentioned he’s taking Gabby out for dinner, but he’ll be back about ten or eleven. I don’t really keep track.” He sets the food out onto the coffee table, flicks on the TV, and pulls his laptop forward. “Charlie, I went to see Neil.” His jaw redefines itself as if he were pissed, and my body quakes with the prospect of what this might mean.

  Shit. Does he know? Is that why I’m here? I glance to the door in the event I need to make an escape and note the deadbolt at the top. Bullshit rule number three hundred sixty-five: It’s imperative to know what you’re up against before you run.

  He pulls his laptop open and scoots in close to me on the couch. “I made up some lame excuse to see Lizzy’s laptop, and when he left the room, I sifted through her files. She had
a link to this place.” He turns the screen my way, and a flash of heat spears through me. An entire collage of women in various stages of undress stares back at me. Chests marginally concealed, all in thongs, each bare bottom, a different shape and size. The flashing pink sign reads Variety! And just above that Beautiful X-rated Girls!

  “As of today, I’m officially a member.” He logs in, clicks on a tab marked favorites, and in an instant the screen explodes with micro images of an all too familiar girl—dark wild hair, eyes like ice. “That’s her. That’s Lizzy.” His voice wobbles as a thick layer of tears congeals over his eyes. “That’s my sister, Charlie.” He slides the laptop over to me, and I inspect each erotic pose with studious intent. Lizzy has a masterful body, elongated torso, legs for miles. Most of the pictures she’s facing with her back to the camera, her face turned enough to blow the viewer a kiss. Her bare bottom is poorly concealed with a string, her flesh slightly dimpled. She definitely wasn’t a toothpick, but she’s hot, and I can see why men would flock to see this. Above her it reads Have Pebbles send you private pics just for you! Click here!

  “What happens if I press this?” I touch my finger over the box, and Theo grunts.

  “It’s pay-per-view. To see individuals, she was charging thirty bucks a pop. To see an entire montage, it’s a cool thousand.”

  “Oh.” What do you say to that? “Did you—”

  “No.”

  “Good. I definitely think this is enough. So, does Neil know about this?” A dumbass like Neil couldn’t find Lizzy if she came up and punched him in the nose with her vagina.

  “I’m guessing not. I’ve seen the file he has. It’s virtually empty. The leads he had have all gone stale. I’m not faulting him, though. Finding this was like putting a jigsaw puzzle together.”

  “And yet we did it.” I shrug. “Come on, Theo.” I set the laptop on the coffee table. “You and I did this. It wasn’t rocket science.” I take him by the hands and look into those pale gray eyes. Theo is shaken to the bone. He looks more afraid for his sister now than he was the first time we spoke about her. “What do you think you’re going to do? Hire someone new?”

  He shakes his head no. “I already did.” His lips bleed the idea of a smile. “You.” Theo brushes his thumb over my cheek. “You are my miracle, Charlie.” He spins his laptop toward me and clicks over to a new tab. “That’s why I got you this.”

  I lean in and gasp. “Theo!” I swat him over the chest and laugh. “Two tickets to see Jeremy Newton at the Rock House. December fifth. I will never tell you anything again. At least let me pay you back, for both tickets. You’re probably not even interested.”

  “I’m interested if you’re interested. You can’t pay me back.” He pulls me down to him with my fingers and lands a kiss to my temple. “If it makes you happy, it makes me happy. I can’t wait to go.”

  “Me either.” Just one more week and I get to see Peavey and Devyn in the flesh—first time in far too long. “You have no idea how much this means to me, Theo. And if you won’t let me pay you back”—I lean in and steal a lingering kiss off his lips—“maybe I can pull one more thing from you.” My finger curls under his chin until he leans up and blesses me with another kiss.

  “Maybe just this once.” He pulls me up, his lids heavy, a dirty grin building on his lips as he leads me down the hall.

  Theo’s bedroom is cool, holds the scent of his cologne, of him. It’s sparse, an oversized bed, a couple of nightstands, and a dresser. A pile of laundry sits in a basket in the corner, and he mouths the word, “Sorry.”

  “Are you kidding? I love it. It humanizes you. You’re darn near perfect, and it’s absolutely sickening.”

  He rumbles with a laugh as he plucks his gun from his holster and lands it on the dresser. I note the small gun safe behind it. Howard had one just like it.

  “It’s okay if you want to put it in the safe. I’ll wait.” I bite down on a smile, doing my best to tease.

  “My baby doesn’t get caged in a safe.” He gives a sly wink. “That’s actually Lizzy’s. Damn thing gets on my nerves. You screw up her combo three times in a row, and it locks you out for ten minutes.” He wraps his arms around me, and his hips sway with mine. “It’s a pain. Besides, it’s got Lizzy’s gun in it.” He tucks a kiss just under my jawline. “I bought it for her. Brought it back here when she disappeared. It’s locked and loaded and ready to go. A lot of good it did her.”

  “It’s waiting for her.”

  He brushes the hair from my eyes and nods. “It’s waiting.”

  He pulls me in close, our bodies locked over one another as we break out into an impromptu slow dance. “I thank God for you, Charlie Neville.”

  “I thank God for you, too.” My lips twitch and quiver. “I mean it, Theo. It feels as if I’ve been running from myself for as long as I can remember, and here with you, I found me.”

  An easy grin glides over his face as his lips find mine. Theo’s kisses taste like peppermint and want. His hands wander over my body as if he were reading my history in braille. I can feel his affection, feel his heart beating just for me. We take our time stripping one another clean, making a game of looking into one another’s eyes, and it’s only then I realize the lights are on. I’m not a prude by any means, but Theo seeing me this way has me blushing right down to the bone, nothing but crimson and heat.

  Theo lands a molten hot kiss over my mouth that detonates every molecule in my body. We tangle our limbs as I climb up over him with my legs wrapped tight around his back. Theo and I love one another with our mouths, our bodies worshipping one another, becoming one long into the night.

  I have never felt so safe, wanted, or loved. And although we’ve yet to exchange those three sacred words, I do love Theo. That alone brings tears to my eyes.

  I have always lost my grasp on everyone I love.

  * * *

  The next day I only manage to work a half a shift because Dena comes in on her day off in an effort to thank me for covering—and I suppose to gain back those hours she lost, but regardless I let her have them. Theo picks me up in his truck, and we head out to Dunbar, to the St. Regency Hotel where Lizzy decided it was as good a place as any for Miles to do a pot run. Odd. You would think if she were trying to be discreet she would have picked it up on the way or met up with him at Del Sol to get it herself. Hell, I could have scored a dime bag if I wanted. Miles still looks very much in business.

  Wakefield shrinks behind us as we head on the highway, and it seems like no time that we’re taking the turnoff to Dunbar. Nice area, rural meets metropolitan. A miniature Des Moines, a very up-and-coming city complete with a skyline of half a dozen high-rises. Color me impressed. If you travel southeast, you will eventually hit Strafford and very much find yourself in hell. I, personally, would find an arrest warrant with my name on it. I read the papers via the internet once Gabby gave me her spare library card. I am a person of interest that the police are very much looking forward to speaking with. Peavey and Devyn played mute, pretended they were out celebrating with their friends and came home to carnage. I told them to say I had taken off two weeks before, but that didn’t seem to help. I couldn’t risk being incarcerated. Not for murder one. I’d rather live on the run and hedge my bets. This way I have nothing to lose.

  Rodger, the manager at the St. Regency, is immediately sympathetic to Theo’s cause. And who wouldn’t be with that garish smiling poster in his hand. Her teeth alone are enough to send chills up your spine. I thought about suggesting he use the color print. I’m not even sure why the black and whites exist, but it does seem to jar the public, and maybe that’s the point. Maybe Neil knows what he’s doing after all.

  Before long the manager himself is combing through credit card records but comes up empty. He’s a sturdy man, thick and round, with sweat beading at his temples, his shirt stretched taut as if it couldn’t handle the load anymore.

  “Some people like to check in under an anonymous name.” He shakes his head as if h
e were sorry. “I’m not seeing a record of your sister at all. Is there an alias she might have used?”

  “Pebbles.” Theo doesn’t miss a beat but looks embarrassed that he accidentally shouted out the moniker at top volume.

  “Pebbles,” Rodger mumbles to himself while his fingers tap manically over the keyboard. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’m coming up empty again.” He sighs over at us, his face knotted up, distraught as if it were his own sister we were looking for.

  “How about a surveillance camera?” I ask. “Could we look at footage from around June nineteenth?

  “And July seventh,” Theo is quick to add. He gives my hand a quick squeeze as if to venerate me for it.

  The manager chews on the inside of his cheek for a minute. “You know we just switched over to the new security cameras sometime last summer. We used to save everything for a week, then it would erase and start all over again, but the new system stores footage indefinitely. It’s all digital.” He leads us to a room in the back just a hair bigger than a broom closet, filled with monitors showing different shots of the hotel. One in particular has a spliced screen so you can see them all happening at the same time.

  “I’ll disable this one.” He points to the spliced screen. He pulls out a keyboard and starts inputting information. “Looks like the one in June isn’t available.” He looks up at us, sweat pooling just below his eyes, above his lip. “Let’s try July.” He inputs the date, and before we know it, the date July seventh flashes on the screen.

  “Bingo,” Theo pants as if he just ran a marathon.

  The manager gives Theo his seat and pulls another in for me. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’m a bit shorthanded today, so it’s just me manning the ship.” He ducks out, and I slide my arm around Theo’s waist as we look on with bated breath.

  “She was last seen at Conrad at about five thirty. Maybe start at six?”