Please Don't Feed the Mayor

by Sue Pethick

  Melanie glared at him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I told you,” he said. “I’m calling for help.”

  Help for whom? she wondered. Not for himself, surely. Bryce had told her that Colton preferred to watch his victims die, to see them up close as they took their last breath. That’s why shooting Vance had been so out of character. Colton had promised to kill his prosecutors in the same way he’d murdered his other victims.

  As the answer finally dawned, it filled her with horror. Melanie shook her head.

  No, no, no. Not Bryce. Please. Don’t call Bryce.

  “Oh, dear,” Colton said. “Looks like I’ll have to leave a message.”

  He winked at her just as Melanie heard a muffled beep.

  “Hey, MacDonald. I think you know who this is. I’ve got your little lady friend with me and we’re heading back to her place. Meet us there in an hour if you want to see her alive again. Oh, and please don’t call the authorities. This is just between you and me.”

  Colton hung up.

  “There,” he said. “That should do it.”

  Melanie looked away, wondering which of Bryce’s numbers he’d called. If it was his cell, there was a chance that he wouldn’t check his messages in time to meet them in Fossett. She hoped he wouldn’t. She didn’t want him to put himself in jeopardy, and even if her phone wasn’t turned on, she thought there was still a chance that the authorities would be able to locate it. The longer Colton was kept waiting for Bryce, the better the chances that the police would show up in time to save her.

  A blast of frigid air swept through the car, sending bits of paper flying as the driver’s side window came down. Melanie reached up, trying to keep her hair out of her eyes.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Leading the hounds astray.”

  He pulled back his arm and threw her phone across the road. It skittered briefly along the shoulder, then tumbled down the embankment on the other side. As Melanie watched it disappear from view, it felt as if her hopes were being carried right down with it.

  “I thought you said no one could track us out here,” she said.

  “Yeah, well,” he said. “You can’t be too careful, can you?”

  CHAPTER 25

  Preston Daniels stared at the piece of paper for several minutes before saying anything. When he finally set the resignation letter aside, he seemed perplexed. He pursed his lips and frowned.

  “I don’t understand, Bryce,” he said. “You’ve done a great job for us this last year. I thought you were enjoying it here at Norcross Daniels.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’ve learned a lot here and I’ll always think of my time at this firm with fondness.”

  “But you’re still going to leave.”

  “Yes.”

  The old man frowned and steepled his fingers.

  “If it’s the money, you should know that year-end bonuses will be quite substantial.”

  “It’s not the money, sir, believe me. The compensation package has been more than generous.”

  Daniels glanced at the letter again.

  “It wouldn’t have anything to do with Judge Cardoza, would it? She did ask for you, but I could reassign—”

  “No, sir. It has nothing to do with her.”

  Bryce kept his gaze steady. The fact was, Sofia Cardoza had had a lot to do with his resignation. But not for the reason Daniels was implying.

  “It’s simply time for me to move on.”

  For the first time since Bryce had walked into his office, the senior partner seemed perturbed.

  “You do remember the noncompete clause in your contract.”

  “I assure you, I won’t be violating it in my new position.”

  Daniels sighed.

  “Well then, I suppose there’s nothing else for me to do but say good-bye.”

  The two men stood and shook each other’s hands.

  “Best of luck, Bryce. For your sake, I hope you won’t regret leaving us.”

  “I don’t think I will, sir, but thank you.”

  Bryce walked back to his office and grabbed his things, taking one last look around his office. Working at Norcross Daniels had been a great opportunity, one he’d never forget, but he’d finally realized that his heart simply wasn’t in it.

  He had Sofia to thank for that. Her disregard for the character of her clients and her willingness to do anything to win their cases were what made her a great defender, but they were also the things that Bryce could never adopt in good conscience. He’d been so desperate to get out of debt and so flattered that Daniels would hire him that he’d let it blind him to his own principles. Asa was right, he thought. Bryce wasn’t cut out to be a defender.

  He closed his office door and headed straight for the parking garage, noting that the homeless man who usually sat outside wasn’t there that day. As he got into his car and pulled out into traffic, the thought occurred to him that the man might have been the one the police had found stabbed in his sleeping bag the week before. The bigger Portland grew, it seemed, the more people there were falling through the cracks. Just one more reason to leave, as far as he was concerned.

  As he got on the freeway, Bryce started rehearsing what he would say to Melanie. It wasn’t that Fossett had suddenly become a more promising place for him to practice law; it was that he’d finally realized that the things it did have outweighed any sacrifice he’d have to make to live there. Corvallis wasn’t that far away, Salem less than an hour, and Glen Wheatley had told him there was a good chance that one or the other would hire him. If Bryce returned to the DA’s office, he’d be doing what he loved for a living and living with the person he loved. All he had to do now was convince Melanie that it was worth taking the risk.

  He stopped for gas in Salem and gave her a call to let her know he was coming. Bryce had tried to contact her before he left town, but there was no answer at Ground Central and he’d been anxious to get on the road. A week ago, he would have been surprised that no one had answered, but with the town still celebrating their star turn on Weekend Extra, perhaps she’d decided to take a break and enjoy the run. No doubt, there’d be plenty of calls from reporters wanting to interview her now. He wondered if Dave Giusti was regretting his decision.

  Bryce was about to try Melanie’s cell number when he saw that he’d gotten a message from her. He hit the playback and waited to hear what she had to say.

  “Hey, MacDonald. I think you know who this is.”

  Colton’s voice was like a stab to the heart. What was he doing with Melanie’s phone? As the obvious answer came to him, Bryce closed his eyes and tried to calm the panic that was welling up inside. Where had she been when he’d spoken to her last? At an equipment rental place, somewhere in Corvallis. She told him she was heading home. Nothing had indicated that she was in trouble.

  “I’ve got your little lady friend with me and we’re heading back to her place.”

  Imagining Melanie under the control of that pitiless butcher, Bryce had to fight the urge to retch. Running into her couldn’t have been an accident, he thought; the man obviously knew who she was. Somehow, he must have connected her to Bryce, but how? It wasn’t as if Colton could have seen the two of them together; he’d have had to recognize her car.

  The Honda. Bryce had driven it to work when his car was being detailed. Colton must have seen him in it and used his contacts to find out where she lived. Finding her in Corvallis would have taken luck on his part, but it wasn’t impossible. Colton might even have followed her awhile, hoping she’d lead him to Bryce. The thought made him ill. He’d thought that having Jesse Lee Colton find him was the worst thing that could happen, but this was much, much worse.

  Oh, Mel. What have I done to you?

  The attendant knocked on his window and Bryce handed him his card before playing the message again. Without the initial shock of hearing Colton’s voice, he was able to listen to it dispassionately, feeling his fear and anger turn to a stee
ly resolve. By the time the message was over, he knew what he had to do. Colton was right. This situation had nothing to do with Melanie. To fix it, he’d have to face the man alone.

  The message said he had an hour to get to Melanie’s place, a forty-minute drive from there. Bryce checked the time stamp; it had been left only nine minutes before. He’d be cutting it close.

  Colton had told him not to contact the authorities, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t alert anyone else to the situation. Bryce had no way of knowing how far the two of them had been from Fossett when the message was left; for all he knew, they were already at Melanie’s house, waiting for him. Bryce might be the one Colton was after, but that didn’t mean the man wouldn’t threaten anyone else who got in his way. The people in town needed to know what was going on, and there was only one person he knew who could get the word out without causing a panic. He dialed the number and put it on speaker, then started his car and peeled out of the parking lot. It took five rings before anyone picked up.

  “Gunderson’s.”

  “Hey, Walt, it’s Bryce MacDonald. I need your help.”

  * * *

  As the car pulled into her driveway, Melanie’s eyes filled with tears. Shep had woken up a few minutes before, but a few tugs at the rope had convinced him that escape wasn’t an option and he’d quickly abandoned the effort. Colton had been so absorbed in trying to negotiate the twists and turns of the road leading into town that he hadn’t bothered to stop her from uttering a few soothing words to keep the collie calm. She’d been careful not to say too much, though. There was no sense in aggravating a man with a gun.

  Colton shut off the engine and checked his watch.

  “Twelve more minutes,” he said. “Let’s hope your sweetheart is on time. Otherwise—” He lifted the gun and mimed shooting her.

  Melanie cringed. The thought of having a bullet tear through her body was terrifying, but it didn’t keep her from hoping that Bryce wouldn’t make it on time. There was no reason to think that Colton would let her go even if he did, and the last thing she wanted was for both of them to be in her position. If he’d heard the message at all, she hoped that Bryce had called the police. In the meantime, though, she was going to do whatever it took to keep her captor calm.

  “Would you like to come in?” she said, trying to show a graciousness she didn’t feel.

  Colton grinned.

  “Ooh, such hospitality. You going to offer me something to drink, too? Maybe put out a couple of cookies while you’re at it?”

  She nodded stiffly.

  “If you’d like.”

  He scratched his cheek with the gun barrel as he considered her offer.

  “That does sound good, now you mention it. Less chance of being seen, too.” He nodded. “Let’s go.”

  Melanie motioned toward the back seat.

  “And my dog? Can he come in, too? He might be thirsty.”

  Colton looked around at Shep.

  “All right,” he said. “As long as he minds his manners.”

  He glared at the dog.

  “You act up, though, doggie, and it’s all over, understand?”

  Melanie nodded at Shep.

  “You’ll be good, won’t you?”

  Shep’s gaze switched from Melanie to Colton and back. He thumped his tail one time.

  “That means yes,” she said, not really knowing if it was true.

  As Colton opened his door, Shep looked at her and thumped his tail a second time as if trying to reassure her. Melanie bit her lip, trying to hold back tears.

  “You stay there,” she whispered. “I’ll come around and get you.”

  The neighborhood was quiet—almost eerily so—as Melanie stepped out of the car. One thing she’d always appreciated about life in Fossett was that the neighbors kept an eye on one another—a big plus for a woman living alone. Long hours at her shop hadn’t kept her from making friends with the people who lived around her, either; they’d notice anything suspicious or out of the ordinary. Mrs. Scudder from next door should have been peering out from behind her lace curtains by now, yet there was no face in the window, and Luke Mears across the way had left the fence he was working on half-done. She didn’t know whether she should be alarmed or relieved, but at least their absence would save her from having to wave them off.

  “Hey, give a hand here.”

  Colton was standing next to the car, his gun trained on Shep. The collie hadn’t moved from his place on the back seat, but he was baring his teeth, making it clear that he would protect his mistress if given the chance. Melanie hurried over and stepped between the two of them, turning her back on the gun as she reached in to untie the rope that bound her dog to the door handles.

  “It’s okay,” she said, tugging the knots apart. “He won’t bite you if I’m here, will you, Shep?”

  Colton hunched his shoulders and glanced around nervously.

  “Hurry it up. I don’t like being exposed like this.”

  Melanie felt her temper flare.

  Maybe if you hadn’t tied him so tightly I could.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, trying to sound cheerful. “If anyone was home around here, they’d have poked their heads out by now. They’ve probably all gone into town.”

  Melanie gave the dog’s neck a quick check as she pulled the rope free, then tied it around his collar so she could take him inside. Shep was an obedient animal, but they’d never been in a situation like that; she didn’t trust him not to make a lunge for their tormentor. She couldn’t blame him, but neither did she want Colton to do something drastic. A man who could murder people in cold blood, after all, would think nothing of killing a dog.

  She and Shep led the way into the house. As Melanie stepped inside, she felt her senses heighten. It was as if she were seeing the place for the first time. Every piece of furniture, every picture, every memento, evoked a feeling of tenderness that was almost painful. This was the life she’d made for herself, something strong and sturdy, yet now that it was threatened, it all seemed so fragile. More than that, she realized how empty it was. In trying to make a life that was all her own, she’d become solitary, cutting herself off from the possibility of real intimacy. What did any of it mean if she had no one to share it with?

  She closed her eyes and imagined she was sending her thoughts to Bryce.

  Please don’t come. I don’t want to lose you.

  “You got a leash for that dog?”

  Melanie nodded.

  “In the kitchen. I’ll get it.”

  “I’ll go with you,” he said. “You still owe me that drink, remember?”

  Shep kept his head down as they walked into the kitchen. Through the rope, Melanie could feel his throat vibrating with a growl too quiet to hear, and she was anxious to put on his leash. As she took it off the hook, she made a lowering motion with her hand and the dog reluctantly lay down. If she saw an opportunity to make a move against Colton, they’d do it together, but right now was no time for heroics. She snapped the lead on to his collar and held out the rope. Colton snatched it out of her hand and started pawing through her kitchen drawers, keeping the gun pointed toward her.

  At last, he found what he was looking for. As Colton took out the knife, Melanie gasped. Was he going to carve her up the way he’d done to his other victims?

  Instead, the man used the knife to slice the rope in half, then stuck the looped pieces into his belt.

  “So,” he said, looking around. “What’ve you got?”

  Melanie kept Shep on a short lead as she walked toward the refrigerator. Her legs felt as stiff and heavy as greenwood logs.

  “I have iced tea and lemonade,” she said. “Also milk—”

  “Milk? Jesus, who do you think you’re talking to? How about a beer?”

  She shook her head.

  “I don’t have any. There’s half a bottle of wine, if you’d like that.”

  He made a face.

  “Better than nothing,” he said. “Hand it
over.”

  Melanie looked at the bottle.

  “Don’t you want a glass?”

  The man laughed.

  “No, I’m good,” he said, taking it from her hand. “Wouldn’t want to trouble you any.”

  Melanie looked around. Coming home had released some of the tension she’d felt the last hour and a half, leaving her drained and exhausted.

  “Would you mind if I sit down?”

  Colton had already chugged most of the wine. He lowered the bottle and pointed it toward the living room.

  “Let’s go up front where I can keep an eye on things. MacDonald should be here soon,” he said, then added with a grin: “If you’re lucky.”

  Melanie gave Shep’s lead a tug and they led the way back to the front room, where she took him to his bed and told him to lie down.

  “I’d better stay with my dog,” she said. “There’s no place to tie him up over here.”

  Colton narrowed his eyes skeptically, but he’d seen how tightly she’d been holding the collie’s lead. Even with a gun in his hand, the thought of facing a snarling, charging animal must have given him pause.

  “All right,” he said. “But don’t try anything. One wrong move and I’ll shoot you both.”

  Shep took longer than usual to find the right spot to settle down. He kept circling his bed, whining softly as he nudged Mr. Stuffy closer, then slowly lowered his haunches and set his head on top of the little felt and yarn doll. Melanie looked away and a tear ran down her cheek.

  He must be thinking about Bryce.

  As they sat there listening to the seconds tick by, Melanie noticed once again how quiet the world outside seemed. Where was everyone? She glanced at the clock and realized the time was almost up. If the hour passed without any sign of Bryce, what would Colton do? Change his mind? Grant her a reprieve? Or just kill her where she sat? No matter what he had in mind, she’d find out soon enough.

  Shep lifted his head, whimpering softly, and Melanie tightened her grip on the leash. Had he sensed someone out there? She hadn’t heard a car. Maybe one of her neighbors had decided to stop by for a visit. Then Bryce’s voice shattered the stillness of the quiet street.