by Lisa Jackson
She worked her hands, racked her brain for more conversation. “How did you live?”
“Oh, I worked in sawmills, drifted around. All the while I was just planning for the right time, searching for the way to make it work. Then I remembered: the best way to get back at you was to go through your daughter. The one you gave up.”
Shannon tried not to react. Oh, Dani. Please be all right.
“She was a piece of work that one, a bitch just like you.” He pointed a finger at the puncture near his eye. Blood ran down his skin. The eye was so swollen she doubted he could see well. “She had the nerve to come at me with a nail.”
“Is she all right?”
“Of course not,” he said without any emotion and tossed the framed snapshot of Shea into the fire. “Burned to a fuckin’ crisp. Just like I was supposed to be three years ago!”
He was lying! He had to be! Her fists, beneath the cords restraining her, curled in desperation. If he wanted to kill her, well, then so be it. But not her baby. Not Dani!
She lifted her head. Glared at him with murderous eyes. “You didn’t hurt her.”
He smiled maliciously.
“If you did, I swear, I’ll kill you.”
“Tough talk considering the situation.”
“You bastard!”
“Sticks and stones, baby,” he spat. “Sticks and fuckin’ stones!”
“This is the way? You’re sure?” Nate demanded as the truck roared down a gravel road.
“I–I think so.” Dani had only traveled down it twice. As the Beast had driven her from the cabin, she’d tried to memorize landmarks. There had been a big rock that had stuck out in the road, a boulder, and she’d seen that, and then a tree split and charred by lightning at a fork. She’d pointed out the way, but it was so dark…
“It’s all right,” her father said, but she knew it wasn’t; knew that her birth mother’s fate relied on her memory.
“And the road doesn’t even go up to the cabin.” She swallowed hard. “How are we going to find the cabin in the dark?”
“Atlas will help us,” Nate said. “He’ll find her.”
Staring through the bug-spattered windshield, Dani hoped he was right.
Adrenaline surged through Shannon. Again she strained at her bonds. Was it her imagination or did they slip just a fraction more?
He walked to the fireplace. Slowly he picked up the framed pictures that had been resting atop the mantel, items she hadn’t noticed until now. He fanned them and waved them in front of her face.
She blinked at the pictures and a new terror rose in her.
“Recognize everyone?” he asked.
“My family?” she said, aghast. What now?
“All that count.” A muscle worked along his gleaming jaw. “Shit! I’d planned to kill them first but that damned kid…I couldn’t stand another minute with her, so I had to go after you. She was the bait.”
She remembered seeing the girl during the fire. Silently, she prayed for her safety. “She wasn’t part of this. Whatever it was you had against us, my daughter wasn’t a part of it!”
“But your brothers were part of it. Every last one of them wanted me dead. Didn’t care how I died or how much pain I had to endure.” With a deft turn of his wrist, he flipped Aaron’s picture into the grate.
Glass shattered. Sprayed. The fire hissed angrily.
Shannon yanked at her bonds the brief second his head was turned. Her forearms ached from the strain, but she was certain the restraints gave a bit more. Crackling flames consumed Aaron’s image.
Another flip of Ryan’s wrist. Robert’s snapshot hurtled into the fireplace to smash against the burning logs.
Shannon pulled on her restraints some more.
Crash!
Tiny, glittering shards of glass spewed onto the floor, reflecting the fire’s glow. They sizzled and she thought about the gasoline. So volatile…Where the hell was it? She didn’t dare ask, didn’t want him to know her fear. Dear God…was that another line on the floorboards? Had he soaked the tinder-dry wood with the incinerant?
Ryan tossed another picture, this one of Oliver, into the flames. Smack! Again the glass splintered, the fire roiled, surging furiously, sparks rising.
Shannon twisted her wrists against the biting cords. She saw that Ryan intended to kill her with the same fire devouring the photos of her brothers. It was some symbolic thing, the same with his nakedness. Part of the ritual to destroy her family. Her gaze darted around the tiny cabin with its plank walls and broken windows. Dry as a bone, it would, if lit, become a horrifying inferno. And her clothes would go up instantly.
“No way out,” he said, taunting her, as if he’d read her thoughts.
God, he loved this. Torturing her. Making her twist in the wind. Just as he’d enjoyed killing them all. First Neville, then Mary Beth and Oliver. If he’d planned it right they all would have died…
You can still do it…you still have time…but first just kill Shannon. Remember what she did to you. How she set you up with the police. Show her no mercy. Kill her. Now. Do it!
He licked his lips in anticipation, felt that familiar buzz, the rush of the act. It was time. Sex would be good.
But the bitch needed to burn.
“I knew nothing about what my brothers had planned,” Shannon said desperately, her mind spinning as she tried to keep him talking. There had to be a way out of this! Had to!
“Oh, that’s right, you’re the innocent.” He snorted in disgust. “But you set me up, babe. Remember? With Aaron and the cameras? Tried to get me to break the restraining order. Even taped it on video. So that the police would haul my ass to jail.”
He was angry now. Agitated. His lips curling, his good eye’s blue gaze knifing into her, the other swollen completely shut. Way to go, Dani! Maybe she could use his lost sight against him.
He was a monster, all gleaming, and proud of himself, his back…But, oh Jesus, his back scarred and ravaged from fire.
He saw her gaze, how she was repulsed. “As I told you, compliments of your brothers.” He grabbed another picture, this one of Neville. Furiously he threw it. The frame cracked and glass smashed. Sparks flew out of the fireplace. The smell of gas was everywhere.
And then, as the flames rose and illuminated the small room, she finally understood why he kept his distance from her, walked around her in such a broad circle. The lines she’d noticed before were clearer now. She knew with deadly certainty that the floor of the cabin had been doused in gasoline. Not in a ring, as she’d thought, but in the diamond shape that was the middle of the star—the image he’d burned with Dani’s birth certificate.
“You and Mary Beth,” he said. “Bitches.”
He picked up the last picture, the one of Shannon, stared at the image. “Your daughter swiped this from me,” he said, disgusted. His gaze slid to Shannon’s. “I got it back.” Furiously, he flipped the picture onto the logs. The glass cracked, but didn’t shatter. In horror, Shannon watched as her own image started to smolder from the outside, the paper turning brown before igniting.
“ARSONS,” he intoned. He reached into the fire to pick up a burning splinter from one of the frames, then stepped carefully over his line of fuel so that he could get close to her. Her skin crawled as he held the small flame in front of her face. She recoiled, twisted and writhed, tried to avoid it being anywhere near her, near her clothes…
Do something, Shannon! This is it! Your chance! Otherwise you’ll die! He’ll kill you like he killed everyone else! The least you can do is take him with you, kill the son of a bitch!
“Aren’t you glad to see me?” he asked and leaned closer, as if to kiss her.
Shannon threw herself forward with all her strength. She rammed the top of her head into his chin. A loud ear-splitting clunk erupted. Pain shot down her spine.
Ryan screamed and staggered. “You bitch!” he cried, dropping the flaming piece of the picture frame onto his own skin. “AAAHHH!” Yowling, he started be
ating at himself, hitting at the flames. She butted him again, the chair coming off of the floor.
His legs shifted and she nailed him again. Hit him hard. Screaming, arms flailing against his body, he slipped and fell. His body ignited the gasoline.
In a whoosh, flames engulfed him.
He screamed again, this one a horrible, nerve-scraping screech that echoed through the night.
The smell of seared flesh filled the room.
Shannon didn’t wait. Strapped to the chair, she bounced her way across the burning line, hopping toward the window, feeling fire reaching for her skin, her clothes.
Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God!
Biting back a scream, she kept moving. Closer to the window. The heat nearly suffocated her. She was crying, sweating, knowing her chances were desperately slim.
Flames crackled and sped along the trail of gasoline. Faster and faster, higher, the dry floor burning.
Keep going! Keep moving!
Ryan’s shrieks rose into a siren of horrible, anguished cries that ascended with the fire.
Don’t look back.
Hop! Hop! Hop! To the wall. At the window she saw the reflection of the fire, of the man behind her, thrashing and black inside a wild, roaring ring of flames.
It was too late for Ryan.
Using all her strength, Shannon threw herself and the chair against the window. Glass cracked and shattered as she propelled herself toward the porch. Her head landed with a thud. Blackness threatened to overtake her. The legs of the chair caught on the frame.
“No!” she cried, pushing forward, ignoring the pain in her shoulder, the same one she’d injured before. Glass cracked and splintered around her as she strained forward. Flames burned behind her. She pushed through, tumbling the chair over the frame and outside. Heat helped blast her through. She rolled onto the porch, still bound to the chair. Her head and shoulders banged against the wooden floor.
Oh, God, the rail! How would she get past the rail?
Behind her, Ryan screamed and flames tore through the dry, dusty building. Flames were eating the walls. In a matter of seconds the porch would be engulfed.
The only way off the porch was at the steps near the door. Clamping down on her teeth, she inched forward. Toward the stairs, dragging the damned chair with her, coughing from the smoke.
Pain shrieked up her body and the warmth of unconsciousness tugged at her brain, seducing her to give up the fight. “No way,” she growled, trying to stay awake, to fight as she inched forward, determined to save herself.
She thought of Travis.
Of their lovemaking.
Of Dani.
The child she’d not seen since birth and tears filled her eyes. Please God, give me the strength to get back to them. Please, please, protect them both and don’t, oh, please, don’t let her be dead.
Behind her, so near its breath threatened to engulf her, the fire crackled and snarled. But above the roar, she thought she heard voices…human voices and a dog’s bark and something else—a whooshing sound that seemed out of sync with this isolated spot.
Impossible.
Hallucinations.
Wishful thinking.
Keep moving. The steps are closer. Ignore the heat, the flames. Just keep going.
Whop, whop, whop!
The noise was louder now.
Intense. Somewhere, in the darkness, voices shouted through the night. She thought she was imagining it all, that in the blaze of smoke and fire, she’d lost her mind.
“Let’s go!”
Nate? Oh, please…
Blackness tugged at her mind. Her body wracked with a fit of coughing.
Keep moving!
Heat blasted.
“Find!” someone cried. “Find Shannon!”
Travis?
Her heart cracked.
“Come on, boy!”
Was she dreaming, or was that Travis’s voice shouting?
“Shannon!” he yelled, closer now as she started to pass out. “For Christ’s sake, Shannon, hang on!”
Her heart leapt. She tried to roll away from the house, but the rail, now charring and burning, stopped her. Through the seared wooden bars she saw the glimmer of determined eyes in a large furry head. Atlas! The dog barked as Travis ran up behind him and commanded him to stay.
A second later Travis burst through the flames, catapulting himself onto the porch. His boots pounded on the floor as he yanked out a knife, cut her legs and hands free and scooped her into his arms. Heat and flames roiled around them.
“I’m here,” he said, burying his face in her hair as he carried her, running, along the porch and leapt down the two steps. She blinked and saw the cabin, surrounded by dark woods, engulfed in flames. Above them the sound of a helicopter’s rotor beat through the night.
“Hang on, darlin’,” Travis insisted.
“Dani?” she whispered. “Is Dani—?”
“Safe. In the truck.”
“Alive?” she choked out, her heart leaping, relief washing over her.
“Yes. Alive. Safe!”
Tears of relief filled her eyes. “How did you find me?” she cried, the roar of the fire behind them filling her ears.
“Dani was held here at this cabin. Nate knew the area. You trained Atlas well, and the forest service helped out. I’ll tell you about it later. Where’s the maniac?”
“Inside.”
Travis looked over his shoulder to a cabin that was fully engulfed, fire crackling and crawling toward the night like fingers from hell. “Good.”
Over the roar of conflagration she heard sirens approaching. It was too late for Ryan. This time, she was certain, he’d died. Gasping, sobbing, clinging to Travis, she started to shake and cry. It was over. Her daughter was safe. Travis was here and finally, finally Ryan, the abuser, the murderer was dead. At his own hand. She looked back to the burning cabin. The only noise was the hungry roar of the fire. Ryan’s screams had died with him.
“He can’t hurt you any more,” Travis said as if reading her mind. “Never again. I swear.” Shannon clung to him and kissed his lips. When she pulled her head away, he grinned his slow, sexy smile. “I’ve got you, darlin’,” he said, a catch in his voice as he carried her along a path away from the burning cabin. “I’ve got you and I’m never gonna let you go again.”
She looked up and saw Nate and Dani standing at the side of the truck. Sirens shrilled as huge trucks, lights flashing, bore down on them. The girl took a step forward.
“Dani!” Shannon cried, her heart aching at the sight of her daughter.
At that moment, the teenager started running forward, racing through the brush and dry weeds. Through the sheen of her own tears, Shannon saw that Dani, too, was crying, tracks of tears staining her dirty cheeks. She flung herself at her father. “I’m so sorry!” she cried, her arms surrounding both of them. “I’m so sorry…Shannon.”
Shannon sniffed and nearly laughed at the absurdity of Dani’s guilt. “Shhh,” she whispered, her throat clogged. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“But, I—”
“You found me. Brought your dad and me together.”
Travis gently disengaged his daughter. He started to carry Shannon to a waiting ambulance, but Shannon reached for Dani’s hand. Dani held on tightly. Mother and daughter stared at each other, hungry for the sight of each other’s faces.
Her throat thick with emotion, Shannon said, “I hope, if you’ll give me a chance, we can all make up for lost time.”
Dani nodded jerkily.
Then Shannon looked up at Travis, a smile trembling on her lips. He kissed her fervently.
“We have a future together,” he said in an unsteady voice.
“All of us,” Shannon whispered.
Dani didn’t respond, but she refused to let go of Shannon’s hand, and that was the loudest answer of all.
Epilogue
Christmas Eve
“And so this is Christmas…” John Lennon’s voice played through
the new speakers, swirling around the decorated tree and into the rooms of the new cottage by the lake.
It was Christmas Eve morning, over two months since the night Ryan Carlyle died. Since then Shannon had learned that Ryan had been the son of Blanche Johnson, the woman who had given him up for adoption at birth, the woman whom he’d slain. Blanche had also raised a second son, another murderer who had been on a killing spree in Oregon last winter.
It was a long, terrible horror. And now it was over.
A lot’s changed, Shannon thought as she padded barefoot into the kitchen and ground coffee beans on the old counter that would soon be replaced. All of her brothers were facing charges stemming from fires set by the Stealth Torcher, and there was an ongoing investigation as to Neville’s murder. Though Ryan had killed him, her brothers were involved in the coverup to varying degrees.
It didn’t look good for them, she thought, and because of it, Robert’s affair with Cynthia Tallericco had ended, and Shea’s second marriage was definitely on the rocks.
And their mother had collapsed. Luckily, after a short hospital stay and with Father Timothy’s help, Maureen had been moved into an assisted living home where she was, despite all the tragedy, adjusting and making friends.
Shannon hit the button and the coffeemaker screeched as it pulverized the beans. Through the cottage window, she looked out to the lake where Travis, Dani, and her friend, Allie Kramer, were fishing from the dock. Allie’s family was visiting from Oregon and staying at the house where Shannon had once lived and now Nate Santana was thinking of purchasing.
Marilyn, formerly Skatooli, now half-grown, was staring into the water and wagging her golden tail while Khan, the traitor, who had adopted Travis eagerly, was nearby sniffing the shore, trying to scare up squirrels.
Horses were lazily grazing in the newly constructed round pen, and while some of the dogs were in their kennels, others were outside, lying near the house, or sniffing for squirrels and rabbits.