She slipped her bare feet into the dusty running shoes on her living room floor and shoved her phone in her pocket.
Her eyes fell on the cigarette pack on top of the television. There were two cigarettes left. She hesitated, then crumpled the pack and tossed it into the trashcan before racing into the bedroom.
She crossed to the window and looked out over the back parking lot. A few cars sat baking in the heat, but otherwise the lot appeared to be empty. Unlocking the latch, she pushed up the window and let in a surge of hot air.
Grasping the edge of the screen, Lexi dislodged the frame and pushed. The screen clattered to the ground outside.
A horn blared in the distance as Lexi climbed out of the window and dropped to the ground. Glancing around with nervous eyes, she propped the screen back in place.
She backed away, pleased to see that her apartment looked like every other nondescript unit in the long, brick building.
Nothing’s out of place and nobody will know I’m gone.
The sun was still high in the afternoon sky as Lexi made her way through the back lot and into the thin strip of forest that edged Channel Drive on its way to the highway. The trees would offer cover from the sun, as well as from the curious eyes of any cops driving by.
Refusing to think of anything but getting to Molly’s house, Lexi trudged through the trees, grateful for the shade they provided. She would have to walk almost two miles to get to Kingston Road, and she’d need to take the backroads to make sure she wasn’t seen.
Legs trembling, she forced herself to keep moving.
Twenty minutes later she reached the intersection of Channel Drive and Surrey Way. From here on out she’d have to navigate streets without much cover.
Wishing she’d thought to put on a hat, Lexi quickened her pace. She wouldn’t last much longer in the sweltering heat.
When she finally reached the turn off to Kingston Road, she was dripping with sweat and gasping for breath. The police cars and crime scene van in front of Molly’s house brought her up short. Standing in the shade of a massive oak tree, Lexi studied the scene.
I’ve just got to wait until they leave. Once they’re gone, I can sneak in.
As she watched from a distance, a Channel Six news van sped past her. A shiver ran down Lexi’s spine when she saw Nick Sargent’s handsome face on the side of the van. He seemed to always show up whenever bad things happened.
Deciding it wasn’t safe to get any closer with the press and the police presence still there, Lexi sank down behind an overgrown thicket of rose hips that bordered the street.
She wrapped her arms around herself and rocked back and forth in a soothing rhythm. Closing her eyes, she began to sing under her breath.
This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine…this little light of mine…
Safe in the shady hiding place, Lexi sank into a restless sleep.
✽ ✽ ✽
The sound of a police siren startled Lexi. She lifted her head and looked around, trying to remember where she was and how she’d gotten there. Fighting back a wave of dizziness, she stood and peeked around the scruffy bushes toward Molly’s house.
She watched as a young, female reporter with long, dark hair spoke into a camera, gesturing to the house behind her. Several other camera crews were busy along the street, and police were still blocking through traffic.
Lexi ducked down when she saw a tall man with a red crewcut looking in her direction. His clean cut appearance screamed cop, and the last thing she needed was to have the police pick her up again after she’d managed to sneak away.
That would end any chance she’d have to score the pills hidden in Molly’s house.
While Lexi knew the pills weren’t a solution to her problems, and that they were only a temporary fix, she’d been hooked since the very first time Molly had innocently offered her “a little something to take off the edge.”
That first day Lexi had been euphoric at the sudden absence of worry or fear or pain. The weight of everything she’d been through had melted away into blissful nothingness. But it was a feeling she had never quite attained again.
Now, after months of constant use, the pills only dulled reality for a few hours at a time, before wearing away and leaving her to face the sickness and the despair that always came in their wake.
Sitting down with her back against the big tree trunk, Lexi suddenly wished she hadn’t been too ashamed to tell someone what was going on.
With her mother hundreds of miles away, and Molly dead and gone, she was now truly alone. The thought made her think of Frankie, and what he’d said in her apartment.
“I’m offering to help cause you need a friend. I know firsthand how shitty it is to feel like you’re all alone.”
He’d seemed sincere, and he hadn’t tried anything creepy. He’d even said that he knew someone who ran a rehab center. Someone that helped women like her.
Maybe I should have listened to him. Maybe he could have really helped me get clean.
But it was too late now; she’d sent Frankie away and she was on her own. Her only hope now was to get the pills and then lay low at her mother’s new house while she weaned herself off.
Somehow she’d have to get her Mustang out of the parking lot without the cops seeing, and then it would be a six hour drive to Jacksonville.
I just need to wait until the cops and the press clear out. It can’t take that long, can it?
But waiting would be hard, especially when her hands were shaking, and her nerves were working overtime. The craving for a cigarette returned without warning; Lexi impulsively stood and began an unsteady walk back along Surrey Way. She’d walk to the store and buy a pack of gum. Maybe that would take the edge off.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Xavier Greyson was pleased to see that the crowd in the Riverview Hotel had thinned out in the last few hours. The police had responded in full force to the latest crime scene, and the press had chased behind them like hyenas attracted to a fresh kill. He had no doubt they were all over on Kingston Road scavenging for the goriest details.
Positioning himself under a wide screen television mounted on the wall, he watched Veronica Lee reporting live outside Molly Blair’s house. He kept one eye on the screen and one eye on the crowd, curious to see if the cops would put two and two together.
Will they figure out the connection between Portia Hart and Molly Blair?
He smiled when he thought of the bodies they’d eventually find in Mosquito Lake. The bodies in the trunk of the taxi would surely be a mystery to the clueless cops. They would probably never be able to solve the murders or understand why they’d had to happened.
The smile turned into a grimace as Xavier recognized the woman standing next to Veronica Lee. It was Riley Odell, the assistant prosecutor that had worked on his case down in Miami. She’d been the only one that had ever gotten close to catching on to his con, and she’d almost put a stop to his promising career before it had really gotten started.
But if he thought about it, Riley Odell had been the reason he’d finally resorted to murder. It had been the smug prosecutor’s fault that he’d been forced to kill Miriam Feldman in order to avoid going to jail. If only she’d kept her nose out of his love life everything might have been different. Releasing a wistful sigh, he let his mind wander back to that fateful night in Miami a decade earlier.
The small yacht had been anchored for days, bobbing up and down in the warm waters off Miami Beach, waiting for its owner to wrap up her business in the city and sail away to a less crowded port. Xavier, still damp from his swim through the dark waters, waited patiently in the cabin, ignoring the shouts and laughter from the other vessels nearby. He didn’t want to be seen, and he couldn’t afford to be distracted.
It was going to be his first time, and he wanted it to go flawlessly. He had a tradition to uphold after all. Walking to the oval mirror mounted on the wood paneled wall, Xavier ran a manicured hand through his wavy blonde hair and
smiled. He liked being a blonde. The sun-kissed beach boy look suited him, and the blue contact lenses made him appear wide-eyed and innocent. Admiring the smooth fit of his diving suit over his leanly muscled chest, Xavier stepped closer to the mirror then paused.
Someone was walking down the dock toward the yacht. He recognized the click, click, click of Miriam Feldman’s high heels against the wood. Striding across the small cabin, he closed himself in the tiny bathroom. Moments later he heard the cabin door open and close. The rattle of keys falling onto the table, and the thump of first one shoe and then the other hitting the floor, let him know she was settling in for the evening.
As the door to the bathroom swung open, Xavier lunged forward and grabbed Miriam by the throat, giving her no chance to scream for help. Her eyes widened in fear as she saw the terrifying truth in his eyes. He wasn’t the playful, seductive man she’d come to know. Instead she saw the real Xavier: cold, calculating, and utterly ruthless.
Pushing Miriam into the middle of the cabin, Xavier forced her back against the table where they’d spent so many previous evenings enjoying dinner and wine by candlelight. His arms began to shake with the effort, and a trickle of sweat dripped down his face as he squeezed harder. In a last, instinctive attempt to save herself, Miriam lifted her hands to his, trying to claw his fingers away, but her fingernails cracked against the thick diving gloves he wore. When her hands fell away, he released her, allowing her body to slump to the floor.
He nodded in approval as she moaned and stirred. Everything was going just as he’d planned. It wouldn’t do for her to be found without water in her lungs. Not if he wanted her death to be labeled an accidental drowning. No, he needed her to be alive when she went into the water.
Dragging Miriam to the door, he opened it and hefted her up the short flight of stairs to the deck. The breeze lifted a strand of her hair and blew it around her face, causing her eyes to flutter open, but Xavier ignored her as he checked his diving gear and strapped on his air tank, before pulling on his fins and diving mask.
He was all set to go. Bending at the knees, he scooped up Miriam’s thin body and dropped her over the side of the boat. The splash was louder than he’d intended, but he didn’t hesitate; holding the regulator in his mouth, he held his head up and took a giant step off the boat.
Miriam had already begun to flail in the water, and her hands reached out and clutched at his head, gripping onto his mask. Xavier pried her fingers off and then shoved her down, forcing her deeper into the dark water. He switched on his dive light, illuminating her pale, ghostly face as she gaped up at him in panicked terror.
Gazing through the diving mask with cold detachment, Xavier watched as her desperate struggles weakened and then stopped altogether. Within minutes she was floating peacefully, her eyes open in an endless stare. Xavier stared back, fascinated and repelled at the same time.
So that was what it was like to kill someone. His father had often spoken about the thrill of the kill, but Xavier wasn’t so sure he agreed. He didn’t see what the big deal was. He hadn’t enjoyed it, but he had to admit there was a certain satisfaction in knowing he’d found a permanent solution to his problem. All in all, it had been a success.
A close-up image of Riley Odell’s probing eyes on the television brought him back to the present and rekindled his lingering resentment. The ambitious assistant prosecutor had been new to the job, and eager to make a name for herself. She’d been quick to believe that Miriam Feldman’s handsome summer fling had been siphoning money from her safe as they sailed around the Caribbean.
Xavier had first been questioned by two paunch-bellied detectives who had believed his claims that Miriam had fabricated the story. They’d nodded with empathy when Xavier said she’d been bitter after he’d moved on to greener pastures.
“She’s a lonely woman and I feel sorry for her,” he’d told the detectives. “You know what they say about a woman scorned…”
But Riley Odell, the state’s newest junior prosecutor, hadn’t been taken in by his charm, and she’d seen through his lies. She’d been unusually hard and bitter for someone so young, and it was clear she would stop at nothing to bring him down.
When his public defender told Xavier that the police had managed to lift his fingerprints from Miriam Feldman’s safe, and that a warrant for his arrest been issued, he knew if Riley got Miriam to testify against him, he was doomed.
So, because of Riley Odell, there had been only one solution. Only one way to make sure a case could never be brought against him, even he if was caught some day. And once Miriam was gone, he’d skipped town. The only thing he’d brought with him was the cash in Miriam’s safe and the firm resolution to eliminate any threats to his freedom in the future. It had all gone to plan, until now.
Smoothing back a dark strand of hair, Xavier wondered how, after all these years, he’d once again ended up in Riley Odell’s crosshairs. He’d thought killing Miriam Feldman had solved all his problems and taught him how to keep himself out of prison. But he was beginning to think he’d gotten it all wrong.
Maybe instead of getting rid of Miriam I should have just eliminated the troublesome prosecutor. Perhaps it’s not too late to correct a mistake.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Veronica Lee stood with Riley Odell on the steps of city hall as Finn Jordan worked the camera. A crowd of concerned citizens gathered around them, watching Veronica quiz Riley about the women who had drowned to death in Willow Bay only days apart.
“Do you think the two deaths are related?” Veronica asked with genuine curiosity. “And if so, do you have a theory as to who could have committed the crimes?”
Riley looked toward the camera with an impassive expression, revealing nothing about her opinion one way or the other.
“The investigation into Portia Hart’s death is ongoing,” Riley stated in a formal voice as if she were reading from a cue card. “All options and possibilities are still being considered.”
Frustrated by the cautious answer, Veronica tried again.
“And the recent homicide on Kingston Road? Does the fact that a woman was killed within forty-eight hours of Portia Hart’s death impact the investigation?”
“Again, all possibilities must be considered,” Riley replied with a small shrug of her narrow shoulders. “We’d be foolish to discount the possibility that the two deaths could be related before we conclude a thorough investigation.”
Before Veronica could react, the crowd parted to reveal Tenley Frost’s stiff figure. The media relations officer marched up the stairs with ill-concealed fury, stepping in front of Riley Odell and turning to face Finn’s camera. Veronica hastened to hold out the microphone.
“Thank you, Ms. Odell, for sharing your comments with the press. I’m sure they appreciate hearing from the state prosecutor’s office.”
Tenley’s words belied the angry gleam in her eyes. She tucked a glossy strand of auburn hair behind her ear and exhaled, as if summoning her patience.
“I’m sure everyone here is anxious to find out what happened to Portia Hart, and concerned about the homicide earlier today. However, the mayor’s office and the WBPD are not ready to release a formal statement at this time.”
Throwing a furious glare in Riley’s direction, Tenley continued.
“Rest assured that as soon as we have a statement prepared we will notify the press. Until then all city employees will refrain from commenting on the ongoing investigations. I can’t speak for the state prosecutor’s office.”
Tenley stepped away from the camera, leaving Veronica to wrap up the shot with a hasty sign off. Once the camera had stopped rolling, she turned to see Tenley and Riley standing face to face. They looked like boxers meeting before a title fight; neither one wanted to be the first to look away.
“Since when does the prosecutor’s office speak to the press before consulting with local officials?” Tenley asked in a tight voice.
“It’s my fault,” Veronica interjected.
“I approached her on the steps in front of the crowd and she was just trying to-”
Tenley turned her fury on Veronica without warning.
“I don’t need you to explain the way the press operates,” she hissed between clenched teeth. “I was reporting the real news back when you were just the weather girl in case you’ve forgotten.”
Spinning on her heel, Tenley stomped down the stairs, pushing past Nick Sargent, who had just arrived at the scene. The Channel Six reporter climbed the steps toward Veronica.
“Looks like you have an enemy there,” Nick said, watching Tenley disappear into the crowd. “She’s probably still mad that you took her job at Channel Ten…and you also usurped her special place with Hunter Hadley.”
Veronica couldn’t hide her shock.
“Oh yes, they had quite the thing going from what I’ve heard…at least before she went and got herself knocked up.”
Veronica felt sick to her stomach. She knew she shouldn’t care about Hunter’s love life, but she did. There was no use denying it. At least not to herself.
“Sounds like it’s none of my business,” Veronica responded, waving over to Finn. “And none of yours either.”
Following Finn back to the van, Veronica heard Nick call after her. She had swung around to face him before she could stop herself.
“Your boss has left a trail of broken hearts in his wake,” Nick said, and Veronica thought she detected a note of anger in his voice. “And if I didn’t know better I’d say that you’re about to be his next ex-girlfriend.”
The buzz of her phone stopped her from formulating an angry reply. Digging in her pocket, she saw that her mother was calling. Veronica steeled herself for the inevitable complaints and warnings. She knew she was lucky to have a mother who cared so deeply, but the incessant nagging was beginning to wear her down.
“Hi Ma, what’s up?”
“I saw your interview with that new prosecutor,” Ling Lee said. “She never did answer the question, but I’m not surprised. It seems like no one will admit what’s going on.”
Her Last Summer: A Veronica Lee Thriller Page 15