“You want me to come with you?”
She smiled, squeezing his forearm. “I have to do this myself,” she told him.
Arlan grabbed Kaleigh’s hand. “Come on, we need to get on the road.”
She hurried after him, letting him lead the way. As they ran, water sprayed from under their feet, soaking them further. “But how are we going to know which direction to go?” she shouted.
Over his shoulder, above the sound of the drumming rain, she heard Arlan’s voice. “You’re going to tell me.”
Chapter 27
“Please take your hand off the door handle, Marceline,” Teddy said calmly. “Surely you don’t intend to jump from the car. You’re going sixty-three miles an hour.” He glanced at the steering wheel. “Hands at ten and two, please.”
Macy lifted her cold fingers off the door handle. The stupid thing was that Teddy was right. Jumping would mean suicide, and while Macy knew she was in pretty serious trouble, she wasn’t ready to choose that option. “You’re making me nervous with the gun,” she said, trying to sound as if she was scared. Which, of course, she was, but she had assessed pretty quickly that Teddy wanted to be the alpha male in this screwed up relationship. He wanted to protect her. He wanted her to be frightened so he could come to her rescue. He wanted her to be complacent so he could manipulate her. Macy could pretend to be whatever he wanted, if it might save her life.
He had forced her into the driver’s seat and ordered her to take Route 1 North from Clare Point. Two hours later, they were now going around the southeastern end of Philadelphia on 495. The rain had let up as the storm passed, but the pavement was still wet and motorists drove cautiously. She had thought of trying to get the attention of someone in a passing car, but decided against it. It probably wouldn’t be easy to do, anyway. People in cars were behind glass, locked in their own worlds. They didn’t see the passing scenery or the serial killer driving next to them. And if she did attempt to get someone’s attention, Teddy would realize what she was doing, and then she’d be putting an innocent person’s life in jeopardy.
“I’m sorry, dear. I only kept it out to remind you that you have to behave.”
“But I am behaving.” She looked up at him through lowered lashes, the submissive words practically sticking in her craw. Streetlamps zipping by cast fleeting arcs of yellow light across his face, making him look pretty creepy. “In the hotel lobby and in the parking lot, I did just what you told me to.” Her words were as close to a simper as she could manage.
“Tsk, tsk. No fibbing, Marceline. You did as you were told because you were afraid I would shoot that nice grandma behind the front desk in the face. Then you were concerned about the kids on the skateboards in the parking lot.”
Teddy was right. Again. She’d allowed him to march her right out the front door of the hotel lobby with half a dozen people within shouting distance. He’d threatened to kill someone else should she attempt to flee. She’d hoped for a chance to get away in the parking lot, but there had been boys there, hoodies up, skateboarding in the rain. Teddy said he would shoot them, and then he would shoot her. Then himself, if necessary. He said he had decided a long time ago that he would never allow himself to be taken into custody. He had been quite chatty. He had also told her that he was a good shot. She hoped he was lying, but she wasn’t in a position to test him.
“Please, Teddy. Could you put it away?” Macy asked, turning off the windshield wipers. “I was resting my arm on the door, trying to stay away from the gun, is all. I told you I would go with you and I am, right? I’m going with you.”
“You promise you’ll behave?”
“I swear it on my mother’s grave, Teddy.”
He looked at her shyly. “You…want to come with me, don’t you? You’ve wanted me to come for you for a long time. You understand we’re meant to be together?”
Pretending to concentrate on the road, she chose her words carefully. “I’m with you, right? That’s what’s important, isn’t it? That I’m with you and that no one gets hurt.”
“No one gets hurt if you’re with me,” he repeated. He lowered the gun to the floor of the car, under his feet. “That better?”
He’d moved it even farther out of her reach. “Better,” she said, glancing quickly at him, then ahead again.
Macy stared longingly out the windshield as they passed Philadelphia airport. She remembered the flight home from New Orleans, sitting next to Arlan, her head on his shoulder as she dozed. That had been a flicker of happiness in her life. She never thought she was ever happy, but she was wrong. There had been other moments, too. Making love to Arlan on the beach on the Fourth of July. Sharing a cold beer with him on his back step. Watching kids fly kites in Clare Point’s park. Eating cookies with Eva in her cozy kitchen.
Macy’d had more happy moments, especially in the last few weeks, than she had ever cared to admit to herself. So maybe this was okay, dying at Teddy’s hands now. She’d been happy for a few fleeting moments. Maybe that was as much as she could expect out of life. As much as anyone could expect.
But then she looked at him, at the pathetic man who had murdered her family. Who had murdered all those innocent, unsuspecting families. And she decided it wasn’t okay to die today. And it wasn’t okay for him to kill her. Macy didn’t know what life had in store for her, but she knew those few fleeting moments of happiness weren’t enough. They just weren’t.
She looked at him again, this time for a second longer before returning her attention to the road. “Do I know you?” she asked, trying to stir some memory from the far recesses of her mind. She should recognize him. She had always suspected she might have known him, although neither she nor the police had been able to come up with any viable suspects at the time of her family’s death.
“Eyes on the road,” he instructed. “Of course you know me, darling. I’m Teddy.”
She shook her head. “No, I mean, I recognize you,” she lied. “How do I recognize you? Did you know me—when I was a kid?”
She noticed he tightened his hands into fists at his sides.
“No,” he said.
“Come on, Teddy,” she plied softly. “It’s me”—she made herself say the next words because it was about surviving—“your Marceline.”
“You…you didn’t know me. You never would have noticed me. You were so young and pretty.” He flushed. “I…I had to wait for you to grow up. I’m not a pervert, you know.”
“But you know me,” she suggested, ignoring the possible sexual inference. She could only handle one issue at a time, and fortunately, her virginity wasn’t at stake. “You knew me.”
He nodded, glancing apprehensively at her, then straight ahead.
Still, she tried to wrack her brain. The weird guy at the grocery store where her family had shopped? The one her mother always told Macy and her sisters to stay away from? Or maybe the colleague of her father’s who had always been friendlier to a gawky teenager than Macy had thought appropriate. No. Teddy wasn’t either of those men. She was still coming up blank. “How did you know me, Teddy?” she pushed, in the sickeningly sweet voice he seemed to like.
He lowered his head, childlike. “I was your neighbor in Lawrenceville. Sort of.”
“Our neighbor?” Macy frowned, tightening her grip on the steering wheel. They had lived on a rural road outside town. On one side of her family had lived an elderly couple, the Johnstons. On the other side, there had been a divorced woman and her two young daughters. They had often come to play with Macy’s little sisters.
“Down the road from you.” He stole another glance.
Macy still had no recollection of him. Fifteen years ago he would have been what, twenty-five, maybe? He was definitely around forty now.
“Lazy Orchards. Remember it? We…we sold apples and peaches alongside the road. My mother and I.” He stared straight ahead. “Until she died.”
“She died?” Macy still couldn’t remember Teddy, but she did remember the fruit stand wh
ere she and her mother had stopped sometimes for produce. It had to have been at least three miles from her house. Not exactly neighbors. “I’m so sorry,” she said, trying to keep up the conversation. “You must miss her.”
“I don’t.” Another glance her way. “The thing is, Marceline, I killed her. I told everyone she married and moved away, but actually I buried her in our orchard.”
He said it as if he were telling Macy she had just moved away. No regret. Absolutely no sorrow. Certainly explained the mommy issue.
The weird thing was that the more she got to know Teddy, the more fascinated she was. It was a repulsed fascination, but a fascination nonetheless, and for the first time, she thought maybe she understood why Fia did what she did.
“Look, dearest.” Teddy pointed, smiling. “Our exit.”
Arlan drove north on Route 1 through Delaware as fast as his old truck could take and still remain on the road. At least the rain had slowed to a drizzle. As he picked up his ringing cell phone, he glanced at Kaleigh seat-belted in the passenger’s side. “Keep going this way?” he said.
“Keep going,” Kaleigh repeated, continuing to stare straight ahead.
The teen looked pale and he wondered if he had made a mistake in bringing her along. But when they left Clare Point, it had been his belief that Kaleigh might be his only chance to save Macy. He also wondered if he should have at least called her parents, but Mike and Cassie had been through this many times before and they trusted Arlan and Fia. They knew that the sept came before the immediate family. And right now, even more important than saving Macy, was catching Teddy before he killed another family.
Arlan put the phone to his ear. “Yeah?”
“Nothing so far. None of the cars parked in the area of the hotel are owned by anyone in our Buried Alive database.”
“Damn it!” Arlan swore. “What about the rentals?”
“We’re running those, but that’s going to take longer. I had the kids go back to the rental cars and tell me which companies they came from to speed up the process.”
“It makes sense that Teddy would have driven a rental. He could just leave it in Clare Point. Tell the rental company it broke down and to have it towed. It would cost him, but he wouldn’t have to show his face in Clare Point again.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Fia said. She sounded tired. Maybe a little disheartened. “So what’s going on on the Kaleigh front?”
Arlan glanced at the teen. She was still staring straight ahead, hands tucked under her thighs. “She’s scared, but she’s doing a great job. She says we have to get off this road onto the one near the mall and go north. I’m guessing that’s Ninety-five North.”
“She know where you’re going?” Fia asked.
“Not exactly, but she seems pretty confident of the direction. She says there’s a thread between her and Macy. That the thread will lead us to both Macy and the guy who took her.”
“Sounds like a hell of a lot more efficient way to nail Teddy’s ass than running all these license plates,” she said dryly.
Arlan laughed. The situation wasn’t all that funny, but he liked the way Fia looked at the world.
“Okay,” Fia said, FBI serious again. “I think we let these guys keep running plates, but we go with Kaleigh’s lead. I need to meet you. Follow you.”
“Okay.” He ran his hand through his hair, which was mostly dry, but now clumpy from the rain. “Problem is, we don’t know where we’re going. Kaleigh says turn on the big road, I turn.”
“But you’re on Ninety-five North.”
“Am now.”
“How about I head toward the Philly airport? We can meet there. If you end up turning off before that, give me a ring. I’ll catch up.”
“Sounds like a plan, but let me check with Kaleigh. She’s the one running the show.” He lowered his cell. “Fia wants to meet us at the Philadelphia airport.”
“I don’t think he took her to an airport.” Kaleigh narrowed her eyes in thought.
“It’s just a good place to meet—on this road, north of here. If it doesn’t work out, if we have to turn before that”—he shrugged—“she can catch up.”
She glanced at Arlan, looking very young to him in the dark, with her damp hair hanging in her face. “Think we could stop long enough for me to run in and pee?” she asked hopefully.
“Definitely.” He offered a reassuring smile.
She smiled back.
“That’s a go, Fia,” Arlan said into the phone. “We’ll meet you at arrivals. Kaleigh needs to hop out for a sec. You want to join us? It’ll be pretty cozy in the cab of the truck.”
“I better take a bureau car. I’ve spoken with the head honchos on the case in the Baltimore field office and they’ll wait to hear from me. I’ve two guys here on call to back us up, should we find anything.”
“So we meet at arrivals. Half an hour?”
“Will do.”
When Arlan set his cell phone beside him on the truck seat, he saw that Kaleigh was watching him. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“This guy who’s got Macy,” she said, her voice breathy. “He’s a monster.”
“Yeah, no kiddin’. His body count is up over thirty, and that’s what the FBI knows about.”
The teen nibbled her lower lip nervously. “No, Arlan. I mean, he’s really a monster. He’s not a human.”
Chapter 28
Macy carefully assessed her surroundings as she drove up the long, unlit driveway toward home. They were only an hour from the Philly airport, but in a rural area, near a ski resort whose name she recognized from billboards. She’d passed very close to this house at least once in the past couple of years. She had driven right by him and never known he was so close.
Macy saw lights in the distance, but the property was isolated. On foot, she guessed it was at least half a mile to the nearest porch light and the terrain was both hilly and rocky.
“I sold the orchard after you went to college, Marceline. Just too many good memories,” he said nostalgically.
Macy wondered if the good memories included killing and burying his mother in the orchard, but she knew better than to ask.
“You knew when, where I went to college?”
“Of course I did.” He sounded hurt.
A Cape Cod–style house loomed ahead; she could make out a front porch and shutters. It looked nice from what she could see of it in the dark.
“Teddy, can I ask you something?”
“Certainly, dearest.”
“When you…”—it took her a second to find her voice—“when you killed my family, did you already…like me?”
He looked at her. “Of course I liked you, Marceline. You were pretty, though distant, I must say. You never even said hello when I handed you a bag of apples. Pull up there in front of the garage.” He pointed. “But if you’re asking me if I spared you that night on purpose, I have to be honest with you, dear. I did not. It wasn’t until later that I realized that we were meant to be together.”
“You realized?” she asked. It was all she could do not to scream at him. She stopped the car in front of the door, as instructed, and put it into park.
“It was fate. It was meant to be, you and I. That’s why you were gone that night. At a sleepover on a school night. You weren’t meant to be there when I arrived.”
She wondered where he’d gotten the sleepover crap, but then remembered that that’s what had been printed in the papers. Someone’s idea of protecting her.
“When I got there to do what had to be done and saw you weren’t there, I knew that I had been set on a path. You and I had been set on a path together. Ending here, I suppose.” He opened his window, looking out. “I wish I could see the moon, but it’s too cloudy,” he worried. “It would be better if I could see the moon.”
“Wait a minute. Go back.” Macy tried to keep her voice even, but she had to understand. If she died tonight, she wanted to die knowing. “You said when you got there to do what ha
d to be done, you meant killing them. Why did it have to be done, Teddy?”
“Mother.” He picked the gun up off the floorboards. He unscrewed the silencer from it.
“What does your mother have to do with killing my family?”
“I did it to shut her up. Sit tight.” He jumped out of the car, taking the pistol with him, and went to the side of the garage and punched keys on a key pad.
Macy just sat there, hands on the steering wheel, staring at the garage door as it went up. She supposed she should have considered making a run for it, but he had the pistol and they were so close. She’d never get away.
Teddy waved the pistol at her, signaling for her to pull in.
Macy eased her car into the spotless, empty garage. Lights overhead illuminated a row of shiny shovels, hung precisely. There had to be a dozen of them, all nearly identical.
Macy tried not to think about his shovel collection or what he did with it. What was interesting was that, to her knowledge, he always used tools available to him at the crime scene. Was he keeping some kind of score?
He walked around and opened the door for her. “Let’s go inside, Marceline; it’s been a long evening and we’re both weary. Now, no funny business.” He didn’t exactly point the pistol at her, but he made it clear what he meant.
At the steps to the house, he hit the button on the wall that closed the garage door and then used a key from his pocket to unlock the door. He pushed it open, allowing her to enter the dark laundry room first. Inside the laundry room, he closed the door, turned the dead bolt knob, and flipped on the light.
“Mother! We’re home!” He pushed open a door off the laundry room. “The powder room, if you need it.”
There had been a fatal accident on Route 1 and they’d had to sit nearly an hour while no traffic moved northbound. Macy had to pee badly. She’d asked Teddy to stop at a rest stop, but he’d refused, suggesting it wasn’t safe.
She stepped inside, turned on the light and closed the door.
“I’ll wait here for you,” he said. “Don’t worry, I won’t listen to you tinkle.”
Undying Page 26