A Sublime Casualty

by Addison Moore

  A dull laugh pumps through him as he leans in, his eyes ever steadfast over mine. “If you ever loved me, how did you think we were going to get through this? Lie after lie? Did you really think you’d never get caught? Don’t answer that.”

  “I can’t answer that. And that’s the truth. But someone is onto us. After me. I don’t know.” I glance down at the phone. “The longer I studied the words, I felt as if there was a riddle buried in there. I think they’re telling me where they have Lizzy.”

  His eyes flash at the thought.

  “Theo”—I land my hand over his—“what are you going to do to me?” My breathing is ragged. My life flashes before my eyes in chaotic jags, sharp and dangerous as broken glass.

  “That depends.” His dimples dig in deep, no smile. “Are you planning on taking off first chance you get?”

  “Maybe.” I shrug in lieu of an apology. “I don’t know how else to protect myself, Theo. I don’t want to go to prison.”

  His eyes close briefly, and it’s as if the light in the world dims with them. “I don’t want that either.” He gives an audible gulp as he fights through his emotions. “Were you just using me?”

  “No, I swear.” It comes out in a horrible moan. “I have never loved another human being the way I love you, Theo.” I cup his cheeks with my hands a moment. “I’m so sorry I sucked you into my nightmare. You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve anything I’ve done to you.”

  He shakes his head just enough. “You can’t go back to Gabby’s.”

  Tears spurt from me as I nod in agreement. It’s all over. I know that.

  He pulls my hands forward, his eyes soft once again, still locked in their pain. “You’re coming with me. We’ll figure this out together, Ch—Phoebe.” He ticks his head to the side as if he could never get used to it. “If someone is after you”—he glances to my phone—“then I’m going to keep you safe. I still love you,” he says it lower than a whisper, like some dark secret he’s ashamed to admit and I can’t blame him. “And I’ll be damned if I’m losing you.”

  My arms launch over his back, and I lose it. I weep a river over him until our mouths find one another. Theo’s kisses taste of heartbreak, of mourning, of the deepest level of oven-hot grief. A deep groan rips from his throat as his fingers dig into my hair, my back. Theo pours out all of his passion as we toss up the white flag of surrender, struggling to find our way back to some shadow of where we used to be. Everything has changed, and nothing has changed. We had moved away and yet never left that sacred space in one another’s hearts. At least that’s what I choose to believe. That’s what his kisses tell me. But one thing is for certain. Things are going to get a hell of a lot harder before they ever get easier.

  Someone is trying to tell me something.

  Someone is daring me to find Lizzy.

  And I accept the challenge.

  Theo took me back to his place, and we both lay in bed staring at the ceiling for hours. Jackson never came home. It turns out, he’s busy comforting Gabby who is reeling from the turn of events. I’m not really sure what I’m still doing here. Scratch that. I know exactly what’s stopping me from running. I love Theo—deeply. It would be easier to tear a limb from my body than never see him again. And secondly, I want to get the bastard who sent me that message.

  “It might have been Miles,” I say. The sound of my voice rings through the room, lonely and intrusive.

  Theo lays his arm over my waist. “I don’t know. Maybe. He’s in a coma right now. I beat him up, but I would swear on my life it wasn’t enough to do that kind of damage.”

  “Oh God.” I lean up on my elbow. “I pray he gets better. We don’t need that on top of everything else.” I run my finger over his lips, and he catches me and kisses it.

  “We.” He sheds a painful grin. “He’ll get better. He has to. So who else?”

  “Ashley.” I shrug. “She hates me with a vengeance. I saw that demented look in her eyes. She isn’t finished with me by a long shot. Not to mention, she had those strange dealings with your sister.”

  “That she did.” He leans up and pulls me in. “But she seemed genuinely surprised about you and me. And that message was sent prior to that. It’s got to be someone else. Someone you know.”

  “I don’t know anybody, and I certainly haven’t given anyone my number but you and Gabby. Gabby?” I shake my head. “She’s too sweet and innocent. No offense, but she’s not wired this way. It takes a certain level of evil and genius to pull off this move.” A breath hitches in my throat. “How about Neil? Neil had figured me out, and that puts Neil square on my shit list.”

  His chest rumbles with a laugh. “Not Neil for sure. Everyone loves Neil for a reason. He’s a good guy. He’s my second father. Hell, my first. The only reason he looked into you is because his radar is sharp and he suspected something. He was right, by the way, which just proves how good he is.”

  “Huh.” I nod to his laptop over on the nightstand, and Theo hands it to me. “How long have you known him?”

  “About five, six years. He was my old partner before Fiona. We fought for that detective position, but he won out fair and square, no bad blood.”

  “What’s his last name again?”

  “Harper.”

  I input it and run a quick Google search. “Abilene, Texas sound familiar?” About a dozen articles linking him there as an officer crop up.

  “Yup. That’s where he came from. He and his wife moved this way for her work, and they split up shortly thereafter.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Des Moines, I think. He doesn’t talk much about her.”

  “Does he have a girlfriend? Does he date?”

  He frowns playfully. “Why? Is he looking pretty good right about now?”

  “Very funny. I think I know where he’d take me for our first date, but I happen to have an aversion to orange jumpsuits.” I scoot in close to him so he can see the screen. “I just want to see a history of quasi-normal behavior. He’s not that old, and he’s pleasantly handsome. He’s already been married, so we know he has a history of relationships. Most people follow a pattern. Any girlfriends?”

  Theo ticks his head back as he considers this. “No, I guess not. The Neil I know has always been nose to the grindstone.”

  “Where does he live?”

  “About a block north of Gabby. Tract house, small little dot of a house that he’s constantly repairing. Other than work, that’s about the only thing I hear him talk about.”

  “Have you been there?” My adrenaline is racing. A part of me wants it to be Neil because he’s such an inept asshole.

  “Now and again. Mostly when we were patrolling. He’d stop in to grab something. He invited a bunch of guys to watch the Super Bowl one year. Nothing too impressive.”

  “What about Karen Gilroy? What did he have to say about that?”

  “He was in charge. Still is.” He shrugs. “Just another cold case.”

  “It’s the move of a potential serial killer.” I shake my head in disbelief. “Whoever dumped Karen’s body left Lizzy’s wallet as a breadcrumb. What did he have to say about that?”

  “He agreed. He said exactly that. It was quite upsetting to my mother and sister. It about drove me insane.” His jaw redefines itself.

  I hit Google hard once again, and my next breath gets lodged in my throat as an article catches my attention. “Abilene, Texas Four Cold Cases in Last Fifteen Years,” I read the headline before scrolling down to pictures of the victims—each one a woman in her twenties, same dark hair, same dazzling smile as Lizzy’s. “Well”—my chest bucks at what this might mean—“it looks like whoever did this has a particular taste in women.” I look up Karen Gilroy. I already know what I’m about to find. “I did this search in the library right after I found her body. Did you see this?” An image of her pops up on the screen, and Theo groans as if a bullet struck him.

  “She looks like she could be another one of my sisters.” He s
hakes his head. “I had seen the resemblance way back when. I even brought it up to Neil, but he said Karen was a heroin addict who died of an overdose. Most likely beaten up and dumped by her pimp. She had a record as a prostitute.”

  “Really?” My mind spins faster and faster until it doesn’t feel safe. I click back to the article on the Abilene girls and click into each name. All students, all with the same sinister connection, drugs, prostitution. “Oh my God.” I point to the screen. “Look at that. Tracy Brooks and Veronica Braden both have ties to adult websites.”

  Theo goes pale, his demeanor from dismissive to aggressively angry. “It can’t be. It’s got to be a coincidence. There’s no way this is Neil.”

  “Come on.” This time it’s me filled with disbelief. “He didn’t put in half the effort we did investigating your sister. Have you told him about the St. Regency? Does he even know about the Beautiful Girls website?”

  He shakes his head, the color coming back to his face, red with rage. “No.”

  I pull up that text once again on my phone. “Could he have gotten my number? Do you think Jackson gave it to him so he could investigate me?”

  “No.” He winces. “Jackson was happy for us—especially at the time we went to the Rock House.” He lifts his head. “Shit. Just before that, I went into the station and demanded to see my sister’s laptop. I made some stupid excuse about needing to get a recipe off it for my mother. He was fine with it, but I needed him to leave the room, so I had Jackson call me and stall him. Neil left the room with my phone for at least fifteen solid minutes. He could have gotten anything off it at that point, including your number.”

  I shake my head in disbelief. “It’s Neil, Theo. It has to be Neil. Maybe he wasn’t overtly dating because he was keeping busy with the Beautiful Girls. I’m not trying to say anything disparaging about your sister, but a lot of those girls went the extra mile for big bucks. Lots and lots of money. They did things at hotels—like the St. Regency. I wonder if Miles would remember Lizzy and Neil together?”

  “Crap. Miles had better wake up quick. I think you might be right.” Theo hops up and pops his weaponry back into the holster wrapped around his body.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Neil has a cabin somewhere in the Tennyson Hills, a couple miles north from his house.”

  I glance down at my phone. “Where the horses feed. It wouldn’t be a renovated barn, would it?” My blood runs cold.

  Theo takes a picture of the text before flying out of the room, and I follow. He pauses mid-flight while putting on his jacket. “That’s exactly what it is.” He races out of the house, and I snatch my jacket off the couch, struggling to step into my boots.

  “Wait!” I call after him, only to be met with a patrol car parked in the middle of the street, Fiona and another cop I don’t recognize already speaking with Theo.

  “What’s happening?” I race down the walkway, and Theo turns around, wild-eyed, pissed.

  “Get back in the house,” he roars my way. “Miles died. I’m being taken in”—his lips twitch a moment—“for murder.”

  The ground beneath me quakes. My body slaps with heat right before it goes numb completely, and I can’t see, think, or feel.

  “That’s right.” Fiona opens the back door to the cruiser. “You put a damn three-inch gash into the back of his skull. What the hell did you think was going to happen?” She spits the words like a mother reprimanding her son.

  “No.” Theo looks to me as the heavyset officer pushes him into the back of the car. “That’s not what happened. I never bashed his skull in.” He strains to lean out and get one last look at me. “I’m being framed, Phoebe. Get Thomas on the phone. This is bullshit. Neil did it,” he shouts into the night. “He took Lizzy!” The heavyset officer slams the door shut as the two of them exchange baffled looks, shaking their heads, and I can only imagine what they must be thinking.

  Theo pounds against the glass and points hard at me. He’s charging me to get him help.

  “Watch yourself!” His voice comes to me, strangulated and muted.

  They speed off, and I stand there with my arms wrapped around my body, shivering in the frozen air before I head back in and grab my phone off the bed.

  There’s a brand-new text message, and my heart stops.

  Are you ready to play a game?

  My heart thumps its way into my throat.

  I’m ready, Neil. But this time you have underestimated your opponent.

  I’m no coed looking to have a good time with you. I’m a killer hungry for your blood.

  I called Gabby and asked to speak with Jackson about Theo’s arrest. I screamed past all of her angry rants until she settled down long enough to put the phone on speaker.

  “Tell Thomas. Theo wants you to. He’ll need help getting out of this one.” I relay all my thoughts about Neil, about Abilene. “Where’s the cabin, Jackson? Do you know where Neil’s cabin is?”

  “No,” he barks it out in anger. “Look, I have to help Theo. I don’t have time for this. You’re just causing more damn trouble for everyone. I don’t know what to believe anymore. You might have set Theo up for all we know. Do not, and I repeat do not call or come near Gabby.”

  “Gabby”—I shout into the phone—“you have to believe me. I don’t have time to give you all the hows and whys. I’m sorry I stole Lizzy’s ID, but whoever did this to Lizzy is coming after me. I want to find her. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Shit,” Jackson howls, and the line goes dead. He’s probably off and running to the police department. He’ll be on the phone with Thomas as well. There’s nothing else I can do for Theo. I glance around and spot the keys to his truck on the counter. But there is something I can do for Lizzy.

  I pull an old backpack out of the closet and fill it with a half a dozen knives of various shapes and sizes. I head back to the gun safe in Theo’s room and play with the combination. He specifically mentioned it was Lizzy’s gun safe. That he never screwed with the code. First try—Lizzy—and nothing. Shit. I spot Lizzy’s poster near his nightstand and snatch it up as if looking for clues. “Come on, Lizzy, tell me something.” That showy smile blares off the page like a siren’s song. I input the numbers, careful not to screw up and, sure enough, the light turns green. The door opens with a yawn. Magic. I grab Lizzy’s steely blue gun and admire it a moment. Theo was taking care of his sister when he bought it for her, and now he’s taking care of me.

  I take off for the kitchen once again and toss in the flashlight from the junk drawer before heading out.

  Theo said Neil has a cabin somewhere in the Tennyson Hills, a couple miles north from his house. I glance down at that acrostic one more time.

  Certain are those who know their way.

  And on they go to find it.

  Not all are lost.

  Yesterday it all seemed so simple.

  Olden days often are.

  Undercover in plain sight.

  Fighting for freedom that will never come.

  In my misery time stands still.

  Not all homes are as they seem, down where the horses feed.

  Determined to mend this broken heart.

  Meandering through where the rainbows live.

  Enduring winter’s wrath with fire in my belly.

  I’ve got news for you, Neil. I have a fire in my belly, too.

  I hop into Theo’s truck and drive north of the condo I shared with Gabby, north of the only set of tract houses just behind that, and follow a path leading to a single lonely hillside road, so I take it. I haven’t driven in a year, never driven a truck, but it feels familiar, rugged and safe just like Theo. The flat lands give way to thickets of trees, a hillside that could double as a mountain. Fresh tire tracks lie ahead of me, and my entire body comes to life at the sight.

  “There you go, Neil. You sloppy, sloppy fool.” I pass a couple of hovels, windows blown out, doors missing like eyeteeth, the wood so rotted a squirrel wouldn’t live there. About
six miles in, I spot smoke rising behind a wall of evergreens, a single white plume. A fireplace? My heart races as I pull the truck off the dirt trail and park as close as I can to the thicket of trees. A scrub oak partially blocks it from the road. If Neil were driving down, I doubt he would see it, but coming up is a different story. I pull my backpack on, Lizzy’s gun in hand. I open the chamber and note it’s full.

  Thank you, Howard. You were right. Every young lady should know her way around a gun. It’s the only good thing you’ve done for me.

  I hop out and let the last few morsels of light guide me through the woods until I come up on the other side.

  “Holy shit,” I pant as I spot not one car but two tucked high next to a small cabin, a cherry peach glow coming from inside, the windows covered with thick iron bars. A truck with a sticker of the Wakefield Police department slapped over the back window sits nestled in the driveway. Sitting cockeyed on the side of the cabin is a mint green sedan that holds a mild familiarity to it. It takes everything in me not to run up there, pound on the door to the cabin like an idiot with my gun blazing. Instead, I walk softly around the outskirts of the woods, stooping low as I come up on the back side of the sedan to use it as a cover. I glance through the windows, a box of tissues, a stack of books—and I freeze. Hardbacks. Those cellophane covers. I recognize them. Library books. I glance to the cabin, and my mind reels. Someone else has joined the party. I head south and round out the porch from the back side. A floorboard creaks beneath my foot, and I stop breathing. Can’t move. Carefully, I hug the side of the cabin, my back against it as I ease my way to the window. A loose plank leans against the wall, and I carefully avoid it as I tiptoe near the window. The murmur of voices comes from inside, and my heart ratchets up into my throat. I lean over just enough and peer through the corner, straining my vision for all it’s worth until the room comes into focus.