Sekhet

  “Get out of my town!” Biting off his words as they hissed through his teeth, Scurlock pushed past her, stopping only to glance once at Dot, who, for the first time, wasn’t hiding anything. Her fingers were tense, her lips held onto a spell ready to do as much damage as she possibly could. No longer playing games, his eyes focused solely on Sekhet, the demon he had once loved. “Tell me, what do you really want?”

  “I would love to discuss this with you, but it looks like our detectives have returned, and they have doughnuts.” Her smile was genuine, making him flinch slightly.

  Victor and Joe came into sight, followed by Molly, who looked exhausted, drawing the police chief’s absolute awareness.

  Dot could feel her heart sink in her chest as she watched the chief’s eyes follow Molly’s every move, while Sekhet’s words rang loud and clear in her mind, “I’m sure that brought back memories, but then again, you weren’t in this form the last time you kissed these lips, were you?”

  “Chief Budrow.” Victor coughed as he and Joe came into the kitchen.

  “Oh, this is going to be fun,” Sekhet sang, grabbing a sweet, delicious snack out of Joe’s hand.

  “You two, outside, now!” Grabbing hold of what little self-control he had remaining, the chief hurried from the house with Victor and Joe close on his heels.

  “Grandma, are you okay?” Molly asked, dashing across the room to her side. “You don’t look well. Are you ill?”

  “Let’s just call it shock, shall we?” said Sekhet through a mouthful of frosting.

  “I wasn’t asking you,” snapped Molly, “and if you continue to eat like you are, Lucy will not be happy with the extra pounds she will have to rid herself of, once you get what you want and leave.”

  “When did I say I wasn’t taking her with me?” Licking her fingers, Sekhet giggled. “I promised you the girl would be left alive. Besides, you don’t even like your mother, so, technically, I am doing you a favor.”

  Molly fought to understand what this meant. Sekhet had agreed to allow the girl to live. Why had Molly not thought of demanding the same, the moment Sekhet took Lucy?

  “You, my dear, are welcome.” As Sekhet beamed a broad, all-teeth smile her way, Molly could feel her insides turn to ice. “Now, when you are ready, I would like to get started, so I can leave this shithole.”

  ***

  Watching the mansion from a distance, Frankie wondered what it must have been like growing up in a household where your mother drew the attention of every teenage boy in town. Of course, Twisp wasn’t the place Lily had turned into a teenager, but following her relocation from Texas, it had been her place of dwelling for some time, until her parents divorced.

  As much as he tried not to mull over the reason behind the breakup, Frankie couldn’t help but wonder what had come to pass between Sarah Sinclair and her powerful husband. After all, money had never been an issue, considering the source; and from what he was witnessing now, Sarah certainly hadn’t been left empty-handed. The newest electric car, obviously imported, sat in her driveway, unblemished, with an assurance of that new car smell. The lawn was immaculate, leaving him to assume she did not take care of it herself. White shuttered windows flanked an olive green door, double wide and cut-glass paneled. The roof, a fiery scarlet, added to the aura of a domain where money could buy comforting tranquility.

  Deciding to leave his car where he had parked at the corner, Frankie walked toward the house, not caring if she saw him as he did so. Halfway there, he changed his mind. Had he wanted her to know of his intentions, he would have tried to inform her, following his decision to travel five hours on a whim. He tiptoed along the edge of the right side of the house, against the off-white painted walls until he came to the back entrance.

  Loud music sounded from within, and a shadow of a woman with a phone to her ear crossed his path, causing him to jump back, hidden from sight. Frankie could hear her shout her annoyance over the phone to whoever was on the other end. It was most definitely not a friendly conversation, and he cursed under his breath, remembering all the times Lily had slammed the receiver down following another late-night phone call with her irrational mother.

  He still had not heard from Victor about his wife’s case, and he was once again filled with a sudden rush of elation. He had beaten the system. And done it with style. His wife was dead, he was still roaming free, and the great Seattle detective was no longer chasing him. Regardless of the fact that he still had to get his hands on the money, the superior feeling he had was overwhelming. “Victor Wright,” he spat with distaste, “not so great now, are you?” His disfavor would have been obvious to anyone in close proximity, but since he was alone, it mattered not.

  Frankie listened for any sound that would suggest Sarah was close. Stepping out from behind his hiding place, he took hold of the door handle and turned gently. It was well oiled, he had to admit, and it didn’t make a sound. As he entered the basil-scented kitchen, a shiver went up his spine. Shaking it off, he continued, soft-footed, through the door leading to the hallway and out into a wide entrance area. The staircase was dark chestnut, branching out into a right and left balcony that looked down over the entire foyer. Above his head hung an impressive light fixture, not crystal, but striking, nonetheless. Frankie had been here before, of course, but the grandeur still overwhelmed him.

  Music boomed from the room to his left, the large living area off the kitchen, with what he could only describe as having European décor. Paintings hung on the high walls, displaying countries he had only visited in his dreams. Soon, he would remedy that.

  The sound of footsteps came down the staircase, accompanied by Sarah’s voice. She sounded flustered, almost frightened, yelling at whoever was on the line. Leaping behind a large white couch with charcoal gray cushions, Frankie crouched down, heart pounding, and waited. Sarah was in the room. Frankie could see her ankles clearly, no more than five feet from his hand. All he had to do was reach out and grab one.

  Signing off with a “screw you,” Sarah threw the phone onto the couch with revulsion. It was moments like these that Sarah remembered why she had divorced Lily’s father. Even now, it amazed her that all he was concerned about was keeping Frankie away from Lily’s life insurance.

  “Money-driven no-good waste of space,” Sarah hissed glaring at the phone, battling an inner longing to call him back just to scream at him some more. The noise of a goblet clinking onto the glass surface of the coffee table placed exactly centered in the oval-shaped room told Frankie she was intoxicated. That made his job much less complicated. He hadn’t intended on slaying her, only talking to her, but as her voice echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls, his rage increased, clawing its way up from the pit of his stomach.

  Clenching his fists, Frankie leapt out from behind the couch with a roar, catching her off guard. She wasn’t fast enough; her alcohol-saturated brain drew a blank as she tumbled violently onto the oriental rug. Frankie’s hands tightened around her throat. She gasped for breath. As he bore down with all of his might upon the woman beneath him, Frankie’s sense of supremacy was tremendous.

  Frankie could hear her mumbling, what, he wasn’t too sure, but deep down, he knew he would catch the words he wanted to receive from her now-blue lips: ‘It’s my fault you had to kill her.’ Loosening his grip, with one hand, he wiped the sweat from his brow.

  “Say it,” he whispered against her cheek.

  Coughing violently, Sarah desperately inhaled breaths of much-needed air. Her eyes finally refocused. Horror flashed behind the blue that now saw Frankie.

  “Say it!” he roared, punching her face hard, making her see black dots as she fought to stay conscious. “Say it! Tell me it was your fault she had to die! Say it!” Frankie shouted, preparing to hit her again. As his fist bore down, he was suddenly restrained from behind. Powerful arms wrapped tightly around him, impeding him from moving even the slightest of muscles.

  “Help her up, Victor!” Joe shouted as he shoved Frankie in
to the doorframe. “Frankie Davis, you are under arrest for the—”

  “No!” Sarah’s voice was weak, broken from the struggle. “Back away, Victor!” She was struggling to stand up but her mind was no longer fogged from the drink she had consumed, and her determination was clear. “He’s mine!”

  Victor and Joe looked to each other before they decided on anything.

  “You have five minutes with him, Sarah. After that, he is ours,” said Joe, rubbing her on the back gently.

  “Do not kill him,” Victor warned. “We want him to go to trial for killing Lily.” Striding into step with Joe, the two went out into the entrance hall to wait.

  Frankie’s laugh was cut short by a shrieking Sarah and the whiff of charring fleshy tissue. Five minutes was way more than long enough to leave him wishing he hadn’t listened to the voices in his head, especially when they insisted he come to Twisp demanding answers that weren’t there to begin with.

  Joe and Victor ran into the living room. The horrible smell, a coppery metallic, burnt liver and musk, hit them in the face. “What happened to not killing him, Sarah?” Victor asked heatedly, looking at the charred remains of the man who he knew was responsible for Lily Davis’s murder.

  “Whoops,” Sarah replied, forcing Victor to bite his tongue.

  “Whoops? Are you kidding me right now? Have you any idea the headache you just caused us?” Victor pointing to himself and Joe. “He is the main suspect in a murder case, a murder case that involves your family, and now he is on your living room floor, the smell of his flesh stinking up your whole house and you say whoops! We are already being watched by the local police, not to mention the small issue of a very comatose Lucy in Dot’s basement and this is not even our damn district!”

  “So,” Sarah said, “just call him in as missing; it will just make him look even guiltier. They will never find him, and to the world, Lily’s murder will be unsolved even though justice has been served.” Trembling and bloodied from the attack on her, Sarah sat down on the couch before continuing. “Pity about your record, I know that must be important to you, but we need to keep this within our world, and you know I am right. Besides, why not just ask him the questions you need answers to, since I am sure you can keep him trapped between worlds long enough.”

  “Here,” Joe said handing Sarah a fresh, damp washcloth for her bleeding nose. “But she’s right, Victor, about keeping this from the authorities. I’m sure we can find somewhere to put him.”

  Taking the cloth with thanks, Sarah said, “You saved my life. How on earth did you know he was here?”

  “The chief saw him arrive earlier,” Victor explained with a nod after cooling down enough to be able to speak without shouting. “He paid no attention, until he overheard Frankie ask some locals if they knew where he could find you. There was something that didn’t add up about the chief’s account of things, but that can wait until tomorrow. I am sure he won’t be too far away.”

  “And he waited until now to tell you this?” Sarah was outraged by the lack of common sense shown by the local serve and protect.

  “We got this from his secretary. He wasn’t there.”

  “Frankie could have killed me!”

  “From what I hear, his mother was a good woman,” Victor noted, as he placed another drink in front of Sarah. “Don’t you agree?”

  “Is he serious?” Sarah asked Joe, staring at Victor in total disbelief, completely shocked by what she was hearing. “Are you serious?”

  “I can ask you the same thing, Sarah,” Victor replied smartly, drawing her full attention. “You could have just killed him without so much as breaking a sweat, so why let him attack you?”

  “I had my reasons.” Sarah’s voice was bitter as she wiped the blood from her lip.

  “Allowing a man to beat you to a pulp so you feel better that your daughter is dead is not a good enough reason,” Joe said.

  Turning her eyes toward him, squinting with disdain. “Who asked you?”

  “Well, just think about what I asked you,” Joe responded, as if her previous statement hadn’t even occurred.

  “You really are serious. No wonder Molly chose to screw him instead of you.” Sarah’s thumb jerked in Victor’s direction put a stop to Joe’s words. He saw Victor’s face change before his eyes. He knew there was no point in asking. Victor couldn’t lie to him – even if his words didn’t tell the truth, his face always did.

  “Get some sleep,” Sarah, Joe said, not looking at Victor, “and don’t forget to give Victor a statement before he leaves. Leave out the about the part where you set the bastard on fire.”

  “Joe,” Victor called as Joe shut the kitchen door quietly behind him. “That was too quiet.” Shaking his head, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, pinching the inset of both eyes hard.

  “Quiet is bad?” Sarah asked, confused by the statement.

  “Why the hell would you do that, Sarah? What is wrong with you?” Victor anger was evident. “We stood here and let you do what you felt you needed to do, and this is how you repay me?”

  Sarah shrugged dismissively. “I didn’t think he would get so offended,”

  “You didn’t think he would be upset that his girlfriend slept with his partner? Me, the one man he sees every day, the one he trusts with his life? Seriously, I cannot believe you did that.”

  “Okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, it just came out,” Sarah said. “He was being so stupid, I just saw red. Truly, I appreciate what you both have done for me tonight and I will never forget it.”

  “Yeah, well I have a feeling neither will my partner.” At that, Victor stormed out of the house.

  Watching as Joe’s tires screeched out of the driveway, leaving him without transportation, Victor was left with Frankie Davis and a need to dial his father’s number and ask for help for the first time. He was in over his head, and he knew it.

  Joe couldn’t stop his mind racing. Victor had slept with Molly? Flashbacks of last night crept in, making his heart leap. He had dozed in the purple chair, watching her sleep, but after a while, she had taken him to her bed. Molly had needed love, and it had been him to give it to her. It had been something he had pined for, for so long, and now he had to deal with the fact that his best friend had slept with the woman he loved.

  Even though he knew it could not happened recently, it still wounded him, unlike anything he had ever felt before. All of the beatings he had received as a kid had nothing on the pain he felt in this moment. He knew Sarah was going to say it before she uttered the words, only, as she said them, it became real. When he had followed Molly upstairs to her room, he was truly unaware of what would happen.

  Now, he needed to know if she would speak the truth when he asked her and his heart pained him as his mind was replaying everything. How scared he had been, not knowing where she was when she went missing, whether she was safe, or dead in a ditch somewhere. Covering the steps between them, he had kissed her. Unfamiliar with not knowing, and the turmoil he had felt made him kiss her even harder. Her response was mixed at first, but as he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, she had melted, her tongue flicking out, stroking his. Wishing for hair she could hold in her fist, she had grabbed the neck of his sweater, tugging him backwards. “You know how this goes?” she had asked through gasps, as her fingers worked their way to the button of her jeans, not taking her eyes from his.

  “No, show me,” Joe had responded, leaning in to kiss her mouth again.

  “What do you mean, no? You see everything.” Molly’s puzzlement had been obvious, making him uncomfortable. Joe had tried to lean in again, only to have her hold his face tightly between her hands, searching for signs of a lie.

  Joe ran it all through his mind. Bringing the car to a halt outside Dot’s house, he took a long breath. Things were about to get a hell of a lot worse, as he spotted Molly, grin intact, coming toward him. It was bad enough not knowing what had gone on between her and Victor, only now all he knew was that he wanted her more
than ever before.

  Turning the key, Joe listened to the engine’s hum come to an abrupt halt. Stepping out of the car, he was face-to-face with the woman who could all but rip his heart out where he stood. Molly’s grin had changed to a full-blown smile. Taking his hand in hers, she led him around to the back of the house, where she proceeded to start where they left off the night before.

  “I hadn’t been able to see you or anything surrounding you for days before I got here, Molly. What was going on?”

  He was serious, and she was at a loss for words. It left her feeling chilled to the bone, rendering her motionless. He placed one on the nape of her neck, allowing his thumb to stroke her cheek, while the other rested gently, low at the base of her back. That area between friend and lover, the region that was to confuse men for a lifetime. The difference between wanting and needing were completely different things, as he had just found out. But they were lovers. Only now, as he pulled back away from her touch, he wasn’t as sure as he had been.

  “We need to talk.”

  Molly stiffened. “What do you mean, Joe?”

  CHAPTER 17

  An Interesting Character

  Frankie Davis died at 2:03 p.m. from excessive burns and a desire for money. As Victor stood over the body, accompanied by Budrow, who spent the time glaring at Victor for allowing things to get so out of hand.

  All Victor could think about was how pissed-off Joe was. Yet, with Davis screaming in his ear about how he was never leaving, that he would forever haunt that witch for what she had done to him, Victor couldn’t help but laugh, drawing a frown from Budrow.

  Shaking his head in dismissal, Victor threw the traditional white sheet back up over what was left of Frankie Davis and left the room, where the smell of death was accompanied by a ghost.