Near You

by Mary Burton

  She blinked and looked around the dimly lit room. It was the basement at the Beech Street house. And she was lying on the mattress Clarke had readied for her just over a year ago.

  She jumped from that realization to the next. Someone was with her. Footsteps circled around her, and as she blinked, she struggled to clear her vision. “Who’s there?”

  “You know who it is.”

  Her mind tumbled backward to the moment it all had gone sideways. “Maura, where’s Nate?”

  “He’s fine.” The footsteps circled closer. “I got to know this place pretty well when I was cleaning it. Basements are so handy, don’t you think?”

  “What did you do to Nate?” Ann demanded.

  “I gave him a little something to help him sleep. He’ll be out for hours, and when he wakes, all this will be finished, and he, Elijah, and I will be headed to our new life.”

  “Where is my son?” Even as she whispered the words, her mind cleared, and her head spun slower.

  “Sleeping in his old bedroom. I tucked him into bed like he was my little baby.”

  “You and Elijah.” Of all the scenarios she had imagined, she had never placed Maura as Elijah’s helpmate. “You two are working together?”

  Maura crossed her fingers. “We’re as thick as thieves. Two peas in a pod. Inseparable.”

  “Where is Elijah?”

  “He’ll be here soon. As soon as he figures out where we are.”

  “Why wouldn’t he know?”

  “It’s a little game we play. Our version of hide-and-seek. We’ve been playing it for months.”

  “Months? How long have you been in town?” She willed her fingers to flex but discovered they barely moved. She kept trying, hoping to break through the drugs numbing her system.

  “On and off for weeks.”

  “Have you been with Elijah the whole time?”

  Maura smiled, but did not answer.

  “How will Elijah know we are gone?” Ann said.

  “He’ll know.”

  The longer she could keep Maura talking, the more her brain cleared. She would not totally be right for hours, but if she could just summon enough function to get out of here, she could get help. “How?”

  Maura squatted in front of her and laid her hands on Ann’s shoulders. “He asked me to put cameras in your house, and I did.”

  The idea that Elijah had been watching her in the privacy of her own home made her stomach turn. “When?”

  “When do you think?” Maura chuckled. “When I was cleaning.”

  “And Edith Scott? Did you or Elijah kill her?”

  Maura leaned so close her warm breath brushed against Ann’s ear. “I did. I couldn’t have her stirring up trouble.”

  “And the other women?” She drew within herself, distancing herself from the fear. “You drove Nena’s car to Paul Thompson’s motel.”

  “When he interviewed Nena, she drove him around town. I knew his prints would be in the car. All I had to do was stock it with a little extra evidence.”

  “Does Thompson know you’re working with Elijah?”

  “I’m working on behalf of Elijah, not for him. I’m the one who’s in control.”

  “You’re good at controlling things—I can see that.” Ann’s mouth felt dry, and she blinked slowly several times to shake off the brain fog. “I understand why you would be drawn to a man who’d been in prison. But your name is not on the Firefly list.”

  “Maura Ralston isn’t the first fake name I’ve used.”

  Ann struggled through the last bits of haze in her brain. Fragments from the case files, Paul Thompson’s interviews, and forensic evidence melded into a clear picture. “The one interview missing from Thompson’s file was Judy Monroe’s. Her photo was also blurred.”

  A smile twitched the edges of her mouth. “That’s a good guess.”

  “Judy,” she said softly. “You deleted all records of you, didn’t you?”

  “I’m good with computers. And when Paul drinks bourbon and takes a sleeping pill, he sleeps really hard.”

  The subtle edge of anger hinted at her rage. “And the woman in the bar who met Thompson?”

  “I hired her. I needed him distracted and out cold.”

  Treading lightly was critical. She remembered the injuries to Sarah Cameron. The killing wasn’t well planned, and the facial mutilations were sloppy and fueled by rage. “When you found out he had slept with Sarah, you had to hurt her.”

  “He used me. He took my story and my body, then he betrayed me. Now he’s not going anywhere, is he? And Sarah’s pretty face is nothing but pulp.” Her lips split into a wide grin. “I’ll be sure to write Thompson when he’s locked up for the rest of his life.”

  “Elijah is free. He’s not as controllable anymore.”

  “He will be when I become you.”

  “If you become me, do you really think Elijah will love you?”

  Maura nodded slowly. “I know he will.”

  Ann held her gaze. “He will let himself pretend for a while. But in the end, he’ll use you and toss you aside.”

  Maura jerked back as if she had been slapped. From her pocket she removed a switchblade. A press of the button, and the blade popped open, gleaming bright and sharp. She pressed the tip to Ann’s temple and drew it gently downward, drawing blood instantaneously.

  When Elijah awoke at 1:30 a.m., he hit the bathroom, washed his hands, and went to the kitchen and made himself a bowl of Cheerios. Carefully, he poured just the right amount of milk on the cereal before heading over to his computer.

  He rarely slept more than two hours at any stretch. As much as he sometimes wished he could shut down and let the world fall away, he never could steal more than the short bursts of downtime.

  Elijah sat in front of his computer and clicked on the camera in Ann’s house. He noticed the lights were still on and wondered why she was up so late. Normally, she was asleep by now.

  As he studied the room, he noted the cell phone lying on the floor by the front door.

  Setting his cereal aside, he backed up the tape until he reached the 1:00 a.m. time stamp. The doorbell rang and Ann opened it.

  As he watched the next few minutes unfold, anger rolled over him, and for a moment he could not think clearly. It had been like that in the first days of prison. He had been so blinded by outrage he could not think, and he had gotten his ass beaten a couple of times before he wised up and learned to distance anger and arrow his thoughts toward the target.

  He observed Maura carrying a sleeping Nate toward the door and then pausing in front of the camera. She winked as she rubbed her hand over the sleeping boy’s head. She mouthed, “Find me.”

  Elijah froze the frame of her face and leaned closer to the screen. He replayed the tape and watched Ann’s desperate struggle unfold in horrifying slow motion. He winced when Ann’s body seized and dropped when the Taser touched her midsection.

  He had miscalculated badly. He had thought Maura was like the others, needy and easily malleable. He’d assumed he was controlling her. But she was the one manipulating all of them.

  His heart butted against his chest as he tried to slip into Maura’s mind. He had studied psychopaths, lived among them, and likely was one, so he should be able to outthink her.

  What had Maura wanted most from him? He had recognized the need in her, just as he had the other Fireflies. Once he’d established what they wanted, the rest had been easy. Maura had pretended she craved only sex, but he had sensed immediately her desires ran far deeper than the sensual. She had been intrigued by the media attention, what she perceived as the fame she associated with him. However, notoriety had not been her endgame. She not only wanted him—she wanted to control him.

  He had spent the last six months getting his house in order. He’d thought he had anticipated all potential land mines, but he had ignored his initial distrust of her and miscalculated.

  She might have taken this unexpected move, but she had a weakness for at
tention, which she craved like an addict desired a drug.

  Once Elijah distanced himself from any unnecessary panic or fear, he felt certain that Nate would be fine for the immediate future. Maura was using him as bait.

  Ann, however, was a different story. Maura saw her as a threat and a roadblock to her happiness. He calculated she had less than a couple of hours, if that, to live.

  “If you think you know who you’re playing with, Maura,” he said, “you’re dead wrong.”

  Elijah grabbed his keys and hurried to his car. He drove toward Ann’s house but opted to park on the adjoining street. He settled a ball cap on his head and tugged on gloves before he moved along the sidewalk, keeping his head low. He rounded the corner and then raced toward her front door. It was unlocked.

  He stepped inside, carefully closed the door behind him, and dug a flashlight from his pocket. He moved past the toppled table and Ann’s discarded phone. He lifted the phone, saw two missed calls from Bryce McCabe, and then replaced it where he had found it.

  If Maura had killed Ann, he did not want Gideon Bailey getting custody of his son. Elijah had established a bank account under a different name, so it would be easy enough for him to disappear with Nate.

  Quickly, he walked toward Nate’s bedroom. He moved to the boy’s closet, grabbed the backpack, and then crossed to the dresser and began to fill it with all his clothes. He lifted the copy of Huckleberry Finn from the nightstand and noted the bookmark was nearly at the end. Pride swelled as he laid the book on top of the clothes and zipped the pack closed.

  He moved down the hall to Ann’s room. The bed was neatly made. At 1:00 a.m., when Maura had attacked, Ann would have been tired and her reaction time off. She would have been slow to realize Maura was lying and been easier to subdue.

  He savored a selfish moment of pleasure, imagining a befuddled and then terrified Ann. She would have realized her mistakes when the Taser had sent electrical shock waves through her body.

  However, when he pictured her begging for her son and terrified for his safety, his mood soured. He hoped for Maura’s sake she had not hurt the boy.

  He located the two cameras on the bookshelf and tucked them in the bag. No need to connect him to Maura. As he moved to the back door, blue and white lights flashed in the front window. The cops were here faster than he’d anticipated. Had a neighbor seen what had happened? Or had Sergeant McCabe sounded the alarm because Ann had not answered her phone? Regardless, he needed to leave.

  Elijah clicked off his flashlight and hurried to the sliding glass door. Carefully, he slid it open. As he stepped outside, the front door opened, and Bryce called out.

  He closed the door but stopped short of shutting it all the way, fearing the noise would give him away. He picked up the backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and rushed through the adjoining backyard toward his car.

  As he reached the street, he looked back. The lights were on in the house, and he could see Bryce McCabe moving from room to room, searching for two people who were not there. Elijah slipped into the shadows.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Missoula, Montana

  Friday, August 27

  1:45 a.m.

  The instant Bryce arrived at Ann’s house, he hurried past her car and entered her unlocked front door. Immediately, he sensed something did not feel right. He reached for his weapon and called out her name. He stood in the silence and listened to what sounded like a door closing. Rushing to the back of the house, he tried the sliding door and discovered it, too, was not completely closed. Outside, he searched the backyard but saw no traces of movement.

  Next came the search of the bedrooms. Nate’s bed was unmade but empty, whereas Ann’s remained untouched. “Damn it,” he muttered. “Where are you, Ann?”

  Police car lights flashed in front of the house, and he went outside to meet them. He ordered the other two officers to search the property as well as the yards and properties behind the house.

  As they began their search, he called Gideon. “Ann and Nate aren’t here. Do we know where Elijah Weston is?”

  “He’s not at his house,” Gideon said.

  Anger and worry tangled up in Bryce. “He has the resources to build himself a damn bunker or to hire a plane and take them anywhere he wants,” Gideon said.

  “Ann would have had her guard up if Elijah was standing on her doorstep in the middle of the night,” Bryce said. “She’s worried he’ll take Nate away from her. If Judy Monroe is passing herself off as Maura Ralston, Ann would have opened her door to her.”

  “Elijah uses her to get close to Ann and land the striking blow,” Gideon said. “She grabs Ann and Nate, and then he meets up with them.”

  “If Elijah used Maura slash Judy to take out the other women, he never would have positioned her near Nate,” Gideon said.

  “Perhaps it was a calculated risk. Ann dies, and he’s left to raise Nate.”

  “If Ann is already dead, then Elijah would feel justified taking the boy.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Missoula, Montana

  Friday, August 27

  2:00 a.m.

  Ann used her words every day to teach her students and now needed to find the right ones that did not stoke Maura’s temper or challenge her.

  “If you’re going to become me, then you should let me teach you a few things,” Ann said.

  Maura dragged the blade along Ann’s jawline with enough pressure to incite fear but not draw blood. “What could you teach me? You aren’t that hard to mimic. You’re like everyone else. It’s easy to be anyone.”

  “But I am different to Nate and Elijah. They don’t see me as the rest of the world does. And if you want to win them over and become me, you’ll need to know a few things.”

  Maura pulled the blade from Ann’s skin, holding the bloodied tip close. “What kind of things?”

  “Nate is very smart,” she said.

  “Duh. I know that.”

  “He has to be kept busy not only physically, but intellectually. He’s already auditing classes at the university.”

  “I know that. Do you think I’ve not been paying attention?” Anger and impatience hummed under the words.

  “What are his favorite classes?” Ann asked.

  “Does it matter? Learning is learning.”

  “He has favorites.”

  “Like?”

  Ann glanced toward the knife but subdued the instinct to flinch. Control over the situation mattered. She needed to buy time.

  “Tell me,” Maura insisted as she again pressed the sharp edge into her skin.

  “Pull the blade away,” Ann said carefully.

  “Why?” Maura demanded.

  “It’s hard to think. And if you want my help, I need to think.”

  The pressure eased a fraction. “He loves math. And . . .”

  “And what?”

  “Geology. Nate likes nothing better than to go rock hunting. His dad used to bring him rocks home after his travels.”

  Maura snorted. “Clarke was not his real dad.”

  “Nate loved Clarke as his father.”

  “But anyone can see that his real father is Elijah. Elijah loves that kid. He would do anything for him.”

  Maura’s words emphasized the situation’s stark reality. Even if Maura and Elijah were working together, if Ann died here today and Maura took Nate away with Elijah, it would be up to Elijah to protect the boy. She had never thought she would ever trust Elijah with her child, but she now had to.

  “It’s what Nate feels that matters. And Elijah understands this. Like me, he doesn’t want to hurt Nate.”

  “This is stupid,” Maura growled as she grabbed a handful of Ann’s hair and pulled her head back. “You talk too much.”

  Ann’s muscles were regaining mobility. Soon, she would have full use of her arms, and she could strike. What she needed was a distraction to grab Maura’s attention. The element of surprise could capture critical seconds so she could overtake
Maura. “Nate likes Cheerios for breakfast. Just a little milk. He’s fussy when it’s too wet or dry.”

  Maura dropped the knife blade another fraction. “What about Elijah? What does he like?”

  “He’s just as smart as Nate. And he once told me he had a similar quirk about his morning cereal.”

  “Like father like son,” Maura said, smiling. “I can’t believe you thought you could keep this secret.”

  The truth of Nate’s paternity had terrified Ann. Now she realized it might save his life. “You’re smart, too. You could not have made it this far if you weren’t intelligent.”

  “No one really sees that, but I’m pretty damn brilliant.” Maura raised a brow as if amused. “You know, I’ve killed five people. Not everyone can say that.”

  “Five.” A heaviness snarled in Ann’s chest as she thought about the victims. “I know about Sarah, Dana, Nena, and Edith. Who else?”

  Maura shrugged. “That first one was back in West Virginia. I really didn’t plan that one.”

  “What happened?”

  “I felt all this rage. I was ignored, and she was getting all the attention. I got tired of it. So, I lured her away to the woods, and when she wasn’t looking, I jabbed a knife in her back. See, if you can get the knife into the liver in the lower back, the person bleeds out. It’s quick enough.”

  “Who was she?”

  Maura sighed. “A girl in my town.” She rolled her head from side to side. “But now she’s gone. No more favorite girl in town.”

  “What happened between you two?” Ann maintained an even tone, as if she were sitting in her office counseling a student.

  “It was a long time ago. We were kids.” Her gaze turned distant.

  “She was a friend? A sister?”

  “Everyone in town loved her. I was no different. She was perfect.”

  “She disappointed you. Hurt you?”

  “She broke my heart.” The sadness was dismissed with a slight smile and a shrug. “But it is what it is.”

  “What happened after she died?” She slowly clenched her fingers into a tight fist.

  “Everyone went to pieces. Posters were made with her picture. The police swarmed into town. Everyone was crying and holding vigils. I finally got tired of all the sorrow and left town and moved to Nashville.”