“What are you doing?” Laura murmured, checking in the mirror again. She slowed down to forty-five miles an hour. “Why don’t you pass me? What are you trying to do?”
Then she realized what the driver was trying to do. He wanted to keep following her—maybe even run her off the road.
Passing Lane Ends – 1000 Feet, said the sign ahead.
Laura pressed harder on the accelerator. She hit an ice patch and felt a little skid that made her stomach lurch. But she kept a tight, white-knuckle grip on the wheel until the car seemed to right itself. Then she signaled.
In the side mirror, she noticed the BMW speed up.
“Son of a bitch,” she muttered, pressing harder on the gas. The pedal was almost against the car floor. She was running out of road ahead.
The engine roared as she turned the wheel and swerved in front of the pursuing BMW. The snow hurtled toward her windshield almost faster than the wipers could brush it away. It felt like the tires were gliding on ice—toward oncoming traffic in the other lane. Laura was certain she’d smash into an SUV heading her way. Squinting at the headlights, she rode out the skid and moved back into her lane. All the while, her heart felt like it was about to explode in her chest.
Laura glanced at the rearview mirror again. The BMW was closing up the small gap between them.
It was the same car she’d seen at the gun store in Monroe, the same car she’d seen by Martha’s townhouse on Lopez Island. Laura was almost certain now. She remembered Martha in her bathtub—with her head bashed in. Did they have something like that in mind for her? Was she slated to die in some “accident” on Stevens Pass?
The fire that swept through Eric Vetter’s cabin last month and killed him—that had been an accident, too. These people were experts.
The BMW’s brights went on. The harsh light seemed to illuminate the interior of her Sienna. It reflected off her windshield, too. In her mirrors, she couldn’t see anything but a blinding glare. The BMW sped up again—so close that Laura suddenly couldn’t see its headlights anymore.
All at once, the BMW slammed against her rear bumper. Laura felt the car jolt—and once again, she had no control over it. The BMW was in command, steering her toward the oncoming lane.
Stiff-armed, Laura held on to the wheel and pushed down on the gas. Her car lurched forward and she swerved back toward her lane. But she hit some ice. The car kept veering toward the side of the mountain. She grazed the snowbank and winced at the scraping sound. A spray of snow and ice hit her windshield.
She steered back into her lane and checked the mirror again.
The BMW wouldn’t give up. The light from its high beams filled her car again. Then she felt another jolt as the vehicle hit her rear bumper once more. She heard its engine whining and the tires humming.
“You goddamn son of a bitch!” Laura screamed.
In the westbound lane, a semi-truck came around a curve in the road and barreled toward her.
The BMW pushed her across the yellow line into the truck’s path.
The semi’s horn blared like a siren.
With tears in her eyes, Laura jerked the wheel to one side. She overcompensated and felt the car buck and shake as she brushed against the snowdrifts again.
The BMW careened past her, hurtling out of control. With its tires screeching, the black car slammed into the truck at full force. Over the semi’s wailing horn, there was a loud, sickening crunch of metal and glass.
Laura didn’t know what instinct kept her from stopping the car. She merely slowed down and stared in the side mirror at the wreckage blocking the highway behind her. What she saw of the BMW wasn’t even recognizable—just a huge mass of twisted metal affixed to the dented cab of the semi. Smoke spewed from the rubble. All the while, the snow kept falling, quiet and constant.
Laura could hardly breathe, she was so rattled. She wanted to stop and call 9-1-1.
But then she remembered she couldn’t get a signal on Vic’s pay-as-you-go phone. And she couldn’t afford to stop—or involve herself with the police.
Laura pressed on, practically alone on the mountain highway—except for an occasional car in the westbound lane.
It was ten or fifteen more minutes until she heard the ambulance and police sirens. The emergency vehicles sped by in the oncoming lane—as much as they could speed through the snow and ice.
With a shaky hand, she tried the cell phone again but still couldn’t get a signal.
For a long while, Laura was entirely alone on Highway 2. She realized they must have closed off traffic in both lanes because of the accident. It was an eerie, unsettling feeling—as if she were completely alone in the world.
And all she could think about right now were her children and her mom.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Tuesday—10:51 P.M.
U.S. Highway 2
“Honey, you and Liam both need to go to the hospital,” Laura said into the phone.
Hearing what Vic had inflicted on her two children left her rattled—even more so than the highway smashup that had almost taken her life some twenty minutes before. Laura couldn’t stop shaking. She tried to stay calm and focused on the road ahead. She had one hand tightly gripping the wheel while she held the phone to her ear.
“Mom, I’m okay,” Sophie said. “I’m banged up and tired, but I’m okay—only I can’t see out of one eye. So I can’t drive anywhere. And somebody needs to stay here with James. They’re not going to let him go . . .”
“But you could end up with some damage to that eye—”
“Mom, Nana needs to drive Liam to the hospital, it’s the only way. You just need to tell her so. Here, let me put her on . . .”
“Wrap it up!” Vic yelled in the background. It sounded like he wasn’t handling the phone as he had been in the previous calls. Laura guessed he was standing in Sophie’s bedroom doorway—or perhaps in some far corner of the room—while Joe passed the phone around.
“And no one’s leaving this house!” Vic added.
“Honey?” Laura’s mother said on the other end. “What’s this about a car accident?”
“I’m okay, Mom. I’ll tell you later. Listen, Sophie’s right. You’ll have to drive Liam . . .”
“It’s no good. He won’t let us go . . .”
“Yes, he will. So like I say, you’ll have to drive Liam to the hospital, Mom. Sophie will stay . . .” She started crying. “Tell her I’m proud of her, will you?”
“Oh, sweetie . . .”
“I love you, Mom,” she said. “Now, put Joe on and listen in to what I tell him . . .” She quickly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand that held the phone.
Putting the phone to her ear again, Laura heard some murmuring. Then Joe came on the line: “Mrs. Gretchell?”
“Joe, my mother’s going to take Liam to the hospital now,” she said steadily. “I don’t want any argument. He’s going to die if he doesn’t get some medical attention soon. You tell that son of a bitch friend of yours it’s the way it’s going to be. I’m risking my life to help you, Joe, and I left my children in your care. Neither Liam nor my mother will say anything to the police. And they won’t say anything to the doctors to give you away . . .”
“What’s she talking about now?” Vic asked in the background.
“I want you to carry Liam out to my mother’s car, Joe,” she continued. “I’ll be passing through Leavenworth in about twenty minutes. I’ll check at the Cascade Medical Center, and if they aren’t there, I’m not going to Wenatchee. I won’t talk to this Courtney person for you. I’ll talk to the police. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. I’m really sor—”
“Don’t apologize, Joe. Just do it,” she said.
And for a change, she hung up on them.
* * *
Liam sat up on the bed, still rasping and shuddering. But for a few moments, he seemed to focus on his sister as she helped him put on his jacket. H
e winced. “God, you look like Robert De Niro in Raging Bull,” he muttered.
“Thanks, I love you, too,” Sophie said, buttoning his jacket for him.
Joe could hardly look at her—this pretty girl with a red, swollen, slit-of-an-eye and the harsh, purplish bruise already forming on her cheek. Meanwhile, her brother was helpless, his body racked with tremors. Joe felt responsible for it all.
The grandmother was already outside, warming up the car.
Amazingly, throughout everything, the little boy remained asleep in the other twin bed.
Vic stood in the hallway, glowering in at him. He had the crowbar in his hand.
Joe came to the bed and scooped Liam up in his arms. He watched the boy’s head as he carried him through the doorway. Before turning down the hallway, he glanced at Vic.
“I don’t see why you’re letting that bitch call all the shots,” his friend muttered. “She’s not your teacher anymore. You’re a grown man.”
“It’s the right thing to do, Vic,” Joe said. He looked back at Sophie, who tiredly plopped down on the bed. She stared back at him with her one good eye.
Vic shut the door. “It’s just fine with me,” he said under his breath. “I didn’t want those other two around. They were just in the way.”
“What are you talking about?” Joe whispered.
Vic wedged the crowbar in Sophie’s doorway. Then he turned and gave him a tiny smile. “The one I’m really interested in is still here.”
* * *
“Liam’s doing much better, Mrs. Gretchell,” said the chubby, sandy-haired twentysomething nurse. He wore blue hospital scrubs and carried a clipboard. He walked Laura down the short corridor in the Urgent Care Unit of the Cascade Medical Center. “We want to keep him here for the night just to be on the safe side,” he continued. “The doctor’s with another patient right now, but she’ll come talk to you in just a few minutes. Here we are . . .”
Laura stepped into the small, dimly lit room. Liam was sitting up on a gurney-bed. He wore a pale green hospital gown and his left arm was hooked up to a computer monitoring his vital signs. The large machine on wheels stood on one side of him. On the other side sat her mother—with Liam’s clothes folded up in her lap.
Liam looked pale, but he gave her a smile. “Hi, Mom.”
Unable to hold back the tears, Laura rushed to his side and embraced him. At the same time, she knew he was sort of fragile. And she was careful not to dislodge the cuff around his arm or the metal clip on his index finger. “Oh, my baby . . .” she cried.
“God, Mom, don’t . . . I’m okay . . .”
“He’s going to be all right, Mrs. Gretchell,” she heard the nurse say.
The young man had no way of knowing just why she was this upset.
Laura had been alone in the car for most of her previous teary breakdowns. She knew she should be holding it together for Liam and her mom, but she couldn’t help it. She was just so thankful to see them here—out of harm’s way at last. And of course, she couldn’t help thinking of Sophie and James, still at the house, still at the mercy of that monster.
“I’ll tell the doctor you’re here,” the nurse said. Then he retreated down the corridor.
Laura hugged her mother fiercely. She felt her mom’s warm, familiar caress on her back and listened to the sound of her jangling bracelets.
“The doctor said Sophie saved his life with the EpiPen,” her mom said. Then her voice dropped to a whisper. “We haven’t said anything. We told the doctor a friend of Liam’s came over for dinner and slipped the nuts into his food as a joke.”
Laura dug some Kleenex out of her purse and blew her nose. “How are Sophie and James?”
“Her eye looks really scary,” Liam said.
Laura’s mother nodded. “It’s true, the poor thing. When I think of her and James there at the house with those two . . .”
Laura didn’t want to think about it, because she’d probably have another breakdown and not want to go on with what she needed to do.
“I just wish I’d seen her stick my EpiPen into that creep’s neck,” Liam said. “I’d give a million bucks for a recording of that . . .”
“You and me both, sweetie,” Laura said. She took hold of her mother’s hand. “Listen, Mom, I need you to stay here with Liam. If you can’t stay in the room with him, I want you to sit in the lobby.”
“Are you headed back to the house?” her mother asked.
She shook her head. “I’m going to Irv’s Lounge in Wenatchee to meet this woman. And to be completely honest, I’m not exactly sure what I’m walking into. For all I know, this young woman could be setting me up . . .”
Her mother shook her head. “Oh, Laura, honey, then don’t go . . .”
“I’ve got to,” she said. “If everything goes well, I’ll call here at twelve-fifteen and let you know that I’m okay. If I haven’t phoned by then, you call me . . .” Laura bit her lip. “Oh, but you don’t have the number, do you?”
She took out her phone and a pen and then scribbled the cell number on the back of a reminder card from her dentist. She handed the card to her mother. “Here, Mom. If I don’t pick up, it means you’d better get ahold of the police. But first call my regular phone. You know the number. Make sure they let you talk to Sophie. Tell her that I said I’m praying for her. It’s code, Mom. If she hears that she’ll know the police are on their way.”
Her mother nodded nervously. “You’re praying for her. Okay.”
“As soon as you hang up with Sophie, call the police and tell them everything.”
Her mother grimaced. “Laura, honey, don’t you think it would be safer just to call the police now? Have them meet with this woman in Wenatchee . . .”
Laura shook her head. “If Courtney’s on the level, I don’t want to scare her off. She might be the only one who knows who killed the Singletons and why. Besides that, I don’t want to send the police to the house. Vic said the minute he sees a policeman on the property—”
“Yes, I know,” her mother interrupted, frowning. “I heard him say it a couple of times . . .”
“You’ve been around him for most of the day. Do you believe him?”
Her mother hesitated, then sighed and squeezed her hand. “Be careful, sweetie.”
Laura kissed her mom good-bye. “Tell the doctor I’m sorry I missed her.”
After she hugged and kissed Liam, she hurried back to the nurse at the front desk. She asked for the phone number there so she could check in later. She grabbed a flyer about flu vaccines off the desk and scribbled the number on it.
Laura’s next request got a puzzled look from the woman at the desk. But she turned to her computer, typed something on the keyboard, and then gave Laura directions to Irv’s Lounge in Wenatchee.
A few minutes later, Laura was driving through Leavenworth’s town center—all aglow with white Christmas lights. It was snowing gently, but the roads were still clear. Laura reached the intersection on Highway 2 where, from this direction, she usually took a left to go home. The house was just ten minutes away.
It took everything in Laura’s power not to make that turn.
Instead, she continued straight and pressed harder on the accelerator.
Wenatchee was a half hour away.
* * *
“We’ve only got about an hour,” Vic said. He set the glass of beer down on the kitchen counter-bar. “So drink up, we still have a lot to do . . .”
On the other side of the counter-bar from his friend in the kitchen, Joe warily gazed at the beer. Vic had said something earlier about how he should take the edge off, sit down, and have “one for the road.” But Joe couldn’t sit down. He was too stressed. And he was an extreme lightweight when it came to drinking, Vic knew that. Joe wanted to keep his wits about him for the next few hours. So he merely took a sip.
“I don’t think the old bag or the kid will talk to the cops for a while. So we’re safe.” Vic took a swig of his beer and then set down the glass.
“I say we load up the dead guy’s pickup. It’s a piece of shit, but it should get us to Spokane or Yakima. Once we’re there, I can steal a car for us. You know those pills I got that calm you down when you’re freaking out? We’ll give one to the little brat to knock him out. And we’ll tie the girl to the bed. No one will get hurt. By the time Teach gets back from Wenatchee, we’ll be well on our way.”
“But she’s going to Wenatchee for me, Vic,” Joe said, pacing back and forth the length of the counter-bar. “This Courtney person might have information to prove I’m innocent.”
Vic rolled his eyes. “Oh, Jesus, would you just own up to it? I don’t care if you killed them. You don’t have to lie to me. Go ahead and lie to your old teacher and send her on this snipe hunt for a witness who’ll clear your name. I get it. You don’t want her to think you’re a bad guy. But I know you killed those people . . .”
“I don’t think I did, Vic,” Joe said.
“Man, it doesn’t make any difference to me if you offed some family. You had just cause. That Singleton guy drugged and raped you. Hell, until I heard about that today, I wasn’t really sure why you’d killed them all. But damn, now it makes perfect sense.”
Joe shook his head. “Vic, I think I’d know if something happened—even with the drugs and all. I think I’d know if I’d been violated.”
Vic snorted. “Huh, violated.”
“It’s not funny,” Joe said. “Okay, so Mr. Singleton drugged me, and that explains why I slept through everything. And maybe he wanted to rape me or whatever. But I think before he actually did anything, this guy broke in and killed everybody. I don’t think Mr. Singleton even left the study. That’s where I last saw him that night, and that’s where I found his body the next morning. And another thing, Vic, when I woke up that morning, I still had my clothes on from the night before. I swear, I don’t think he ever touched me.”
Vic frowned at him. He actually looked disappointed.
“To be totally honest,” Joe murmured. He stopped pacing. “When I found them all dead the next morning, I thought you might have done it, Vic.”
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