by T. R. Ragan
“What if he comes back to the house? My life is in danger. Please, I need your help.”
Lizzy couldn’t recall the last time she’d felt so damn angry. “You said you had a gun,” she said as she walked away. “Well, I hope you know how to use it.”
CHAPTER 35
At the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, Brian Rosie reached for his gun. Three knocks sounded before the code word was said aloud. Brian pulled away from the Glock and pushed a button on the remote. The door clicked open.
Merrick, taller than shit, his greasy mustache drooping down to cover his entire mouth, strolled into his office and flicked a card on the table in front of him. “This chick is going to cause you some serious trouble.”
Brian didn’t like being interrupted. He was doing the books like he did every month but he didn’t like the way the numbers looked. “We’ve got leakage,” he said.
“Again?”
“Close to five percent this time. Someone is siphoning cash right off the top. We only have three guys counting the money before they hand it over to me, right?”
Merrick nodded.
“I need you and Frank to figure which of the three it is and then”—he pointed to the chair in front of his desk—“I want him sitting right there by the end of the week.” Raking his fingers through his hair in frustration, he noticed the card and picked it up. “Motherfucker.” He let out a good long laugh. “That girl doesn’t know when to give up, does she?”
Merrick threw himself onto the couch. “Apparently not.”
“Where did you get this?”
“I have gotten no less than five calls asking if the reward money was legit.”
“What asshole would be stupid enough to call and ask you that?”
“You don’t exactly have a bunch of geniuses working for you, but the good news is they have no idea where you’ve been hiding out for the past two years. Most of ’em think you’re soaking up the rays somewhere in the Bahamas.”
Exactly why some dickhead thought he could skim off the top and get away with it, Brian thought. He looked at the card again. Where would Hayley Hansen get ten thousand dollars to offer as reward money? It had to be a bluff, a way to flush him out of hiding. “I’ve got an idea,” Brian said.
“What is it?”
“I want you to find someone you can trust, someone who has never heard of my name before, and then I want you to pay them to pretend to be interested in the reward. This guy will call this number and tell whoever answers that he wants proof before he gives her any information about my whereabouts.”
“And then what?”
“Let’s just take it one step at a time.”
Brian had always known that Hayley had a stubborn streak a mile wide. But he’d thought he’d taught her a lesson once and for all when he kept his promise and killed her mother. If that didn’t teach a girl to mind her own business, what would?
“I don’t know,” Merrick said. “From the sound of it, Hayley and her little girlfriend have passed out thousands of those things.”
Brian perked up. “What little friend?”
The man shrugged.
“Find out everything you can about this other girl. I want details.”
“Not a problem. If they really have the money, it might not be long before someone falls for the bait.”
“Anyone who knows me,” Brian said, “knows it isn’t possible to spend ten thousand dollars from their grave.”
CHAPTER 36
As he paced the stained carpet covering the floor in the dingy hotel room, Seth cracked his knuckles and clicked his tongue. The rage he’d felt when he first learned of Madeline’s betrayal had continued to build in intensity. Fury threatened to blind him. Madness made it difficult for him to think. The emotions he’d been experiencing went well beyond anything he’d ever felt in his life.
Every time he thought about Madeline and what she’d made him do, all for the sake of her show’s ratings, his blood pressure skyrocketed. It happened again now. The flashing strobe lights triggering havoc inside his brain. He raised his hands to both sides of his head and squeezed hard, anything to make it stop.
It didn’t help matters that the woman tied to the bed wouldn’t stop sobbing.
He marched to the bed, took hold of both her skinny shoulders, and shook her. “You need to . . . stop . . . all that . . . crying.” He shook her so hard, the back of her head rattled against the headboard and the headboard rattled against the wall. “If you don’t stop . . . I won’t have any choice . . . but to shut you up . . . once and for all.”
Another minute passed before he realized she’d already stopped crying. He let go of her. “That’s better,” he said, his voice ragged.
Her body still quivered like the scared little mouse she was, but at least she was quiet now. He sat down on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through her hair. Madeline’s little waitress friend might not be kind on the eyes, but she had nice hair. “I’m going to remove the tape from your mouth so you can blow your nose.”
Before he removed the tape, he picked up the box cutter from the table next to the bed and held the sharp tip in front of her face. “Don’t make me use this on you, OK?”
Eyes wide, she nodded her head so fast it was almost comical.
He set the knife aside. Her arms and legs were secured. There was no way she could grab the box cutter and use it to defend herself, but he wanted her to know it was right there if he needed to use it. Now that she’d stopped crying, the flickering lights inside his head died down some. He grabbed a tissue from the box on the nightstand and then pulled the tape from her mouth.
He hadn’t bothered covering her eyes with anything.
She didn’t know it yet, but she wouldn’t be leaving the hotel room alive. If she thought she didn’t have a chance of surviving, she’d really be making some noise.
He held a tissue to her nose as she blew. The girl probably wouldn’t believe it, but he really did feel bad about this. She was just an innocent bystander who happened to have a connection to Madeline Blair.
This was all Madeline’s fault, and she’d all but provided him a map to the people best qualified to help him punish her. Madeline’s address book contained endless names and addresses, all meticulously organized with titles next to names: waitress, repairman, hairdresser, book club member, and so on.
“So,” he said to the girl when she was done blowing her nose like a good girl. “Your name is Amber—isn’t that right?”
She nodded.
The room was warm but Amber shivered as if it were thirty degrees in here. She was such a scrawny thing. He glanced at the suitcase he’d brought and realized it was big enough to fit two of her inside. It would be no problem wheeling her out of there. He wasn’t worried about security cameras since the hotel was older than dirt and should have been condemned years ago.
It boggled the mind to think of how simple it had been to get Amber to come to the hotel room. Initially, he’d had a difficult time deciding between Madeline’s hairdresser and the waitress who served her at Monty’s Bar & Grill twice a week. Both women were a part of Madeline’s book club. In the end, he’d picked the waitress because Amber made it so damn easy for him. People would do anything for a few bucks. Right there on her Facebook page: not only did she offer massages, but she made house calls.
And as advertised, she’d arrived right on time.
“Why am I here?” she asked, her voice squeaky and irritating.
He opened his wallet, pulled out a one-hundred-dollar bill and set it on the nightstand. “That money is all yours when we’re done here. I just need you to do me a couple of favors, that’s all.”
Her bottom lip trembled. “Are you going to rape me?”
“Oh, God, no.” He wanted to gag at the idea of touching her in that way, but instead, he forced a smile. “You have absolutely
nothing to worry about, Amber. I’m a married man with responsibilities.”
“Then why are you doing this?”
“Because there’s a woman,” he said, closing his eyes at the thought of Madeline, “who needs to be taught a lesson.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t. Do you know who Madeline Blair is?”
Her eyes grew wide. “Yes, of course. She’s my good friend. We met at the restaurant where I work. We’re even in a book club together.”
“You don’t say.”
“Yes. We meet once a month.” Her gaze roamed over him as she tried to relax. “So, did Madeline do something?”
“The sooner you help me out, the sooner I can let you go.”
She leaned forward, as far as the ropes would allow. “What do you need to know?” She was chomping at the bit to tell him anything and everything. She was one of those gutless people who would sell their soul to the devil without any negotiating.
“I need you to tell me everything you know about Dr. Blair. When that’s done, we’re going to make a phone call.”
“Is this Madeline?”
“This is she.”
“It’s Amber . . .”
“What’s going on? Is something wrong?”
“There’s a man here. He wants you to know that he wishes he could be there with you now. He misses you, and he—”
“What’s his name?”
“He hasn’t said.”
“Amber, I don’t know what’s going on, but do you know this man you’re with?”
“No.”
“You’re not alone with him, are you?”
“I am, but he just wants—”
“Amber, if this isn’t some sort of prank . . . if there really is a man there with you, he could be dangerous and you need to get away.”
“He promised to let me go after I told him everything I knew about you. I think he’s . . . he’s in love with you, Madeline.”
“He’s obsessed,” Madeline said. “He’s crazy. You need to get away. Right now.”
“I can’t. He’s tied me up. I—”
“Where are you, Amber?”
Seth slapped a piece of duct tape over Amber’s mouth before she could say any more. Then he grabbed the phone from her. “Madeline, Madeline. If she told you where she was, that would ruin all the fun.”
“Who is this? What are you doing?”
“I’m your stalker, remember?” His fingers tightened around the phone. “The one who leaves you gifts and keeps you awake at night. I’m teaching you a lesson. How many times do I need to tell you that?”
“Let Amber go. I’m begging you.”
He put his face right up next to Amber’s so that their foreheads touched. “Hmm, that doesn’t sound like begging to me. Does it sound like she’s begging to you, Amber?” He pressed the phone to Amber’s ear.
“Please,” Madeline cried. “I’ll do anything. Let her go.”
“Anything?” He kept the phone so that both he and Amber could hear. “What does that mean, exactly? If I come to the house right now, will your friend from the park be there?”
“No, she’s not here. I’m alone. I’ll do anything you want, just let her go.”
“Liar. I hate liars.”
“I’ve learned my lesson,” Madeline cried. “I will never lie to my listeners again. I was wrong to do what I did. I’m sorry. Please don’t hurt her!”
“You have almost convinced me, but not quite. I’m going to put the phone right here next to the bed so that you’ll be able to hear everything I do to her.”
Amber was thrashing wildly against the bed now. She obviously understood that this was not going to end well.
He pulled out a syringe. “I’m going to give you just enough medicine to take the edge off.”
It didn’t take long for the fentanyl to take effect. Her eyes were open but her limbs were worthless. He ripped the tape from her mouth. Her screams came out in breathless whimpers.
He grabbed the phone. “Can you hear that, Madeline?” When she couldn’t make words, her throat probably frozen in terror, he said, “I know you’re there, Madeline. I can hear you breathing. Whatever you do, do not hang up or you’ll both pay dearly, I promise you.”
He set the phone aside once more, and then used his left hand to squeeze Amber’s throat while he used his right hand to wave the box cutter in front of her face. Even drugged, the woman’s breathing became frantic, her eyes round as saucers, like a rabid dog taking its last breath. “You should be here to see this, Madeline,” he said loud enough so she could hear.
Bubbling with excitement, he used the tip of the blade to poke Amber in the shoulder and collarbone, over and over. The little sounds she made and the terror in her eyes prompted him to ramp it up, slicing her again and again across the chest. He felt like a kid at a circus. “This is Madeline’s fault,” he told the girl. “She should be here, not you!” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun.
Out of breath and flushed with excitement, he climbed off the bed and picked up the phone. “OK, Madeline, let’s talk. I need to see you again before—”
The line was dead.
The girl was, too.
Madeline would pay dearly for that. He’d told her to stay on the phone and he’d meant it.
CHAPTER 37
By the time Lizzy left her office on J Street, it was cold and dark. She walked for quite a while before she realized she couldn’t remember where she had parked. She heard footsteps in the distance. Shivers coursed over her as she stopped to look over her shoulder. A dark, shadowy figure walked beneath a line of trees, out of the streetlights. Someone was following her.
Relieved to see the church a few blocks away, she ran as fast as she could, her breathing ragged by the time she pushed through the double doors.
Everyone was there . . . Cathy, Brittany, Jessica. Even Hayley. They all looked beautiful in the bridesmaid dresses Jessica had picked out. Jared looked better than ever in a perfectly fitted tuxedo. It wasn’t his tuxedo or handsome face that made him stand out—it was the way he carried himself, with a dash of cockiness and a barrel of confidence.
Everyone looked her way, everyone except her father, who sat in the front pew and pretended not to notice her.
Raking a hand through tangled hair, she realized she’d been so busy she hadn’t had time to fix her hair. Panic set in as her gaze fell to her jeans and T-shirt. And then her head snapped up and this time her attention settled on the woman standing next to Jared. She wore a beautiful strapless wedding gown with billowing tulle and tiny crystals that twinkled under the lights.
Slowly, the bride turned her way.
What the hell?
It was their neighbor, Heather somebody—she never could remember the woman’s name. Everyone’s attention had settled on the bride and groom. Something was seriously wrong with this picture.
The church doors blew open. A cold gust of wind rolled over her back, reminding Lizzy that she was being followed. She reached for her gun as she whipped around so fast her hand smacked against something hard.
“Ouch. What’s going on? Are you OK?”
She lifted her head from the pillow. It was dark. Her heart hammered against her chest. Just a dream. Thank God. “Did I hit you?”
“Right in the chopper.”
Blindly, she reached for Jared before she leaned toward him and kissed his jaw. “Sorry I woke you. I was having a bad dream.”
He pulled her close. “Want to talk about it?”
“No, it was nothing, stupid, really.”
Her phone vibrated on the nightstand.
“It’s two in the morning,” he said.
She turned over and grabbed it. “Hello?”
It was Madeline. Once again she
was hysterical.
“Try to calm down,” Lizzy told her. “I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”
“He called me. It was him. He has my friend Amber. She’s the waitress you met when we were at Monty’s Bar & Grill.”
“How do you know he’s not just telling you he has her?”
“It was her voice. I talked to her. She’s the one who was on the phone when I answered. Oh, God, it was awful. She sounded calm in the beginning. I think he convinced her that if she called me, he wouldn’t hurt her. Oh, my God, Lizzy. Oh, my God. It was horrible. She was screaming at first. I think he covered her mouth because after that I heard muffled cries for help. I don’t know if he was choking her or what the hell he was doing.”
Lizzy sat up. “Did she tell you where she was?”
“She couldn’t,” Madeline said. “He took the phone from her before she could tell me.”
“Did you call the police?”
“Yes.”
“OK, that’s a good start. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Stay calm, and if you can, write down what he said so you don’t forget. There could be clues that might help us find him.”
She shut her phone and turned on the light.
Jared squinted. “What’s going on?”
As she slipped into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, she repeated everything Madeline had just told her. Then, since she and Jared had barely had two minutes to talk over the past few days, she also told him the part about Madeline asking David Westlake to call in to her show and pretend to be a perverted stalker.
“The woman doesn’t sound stable.”
“It gets worse. Remember the wallet investigators found after Madeline was attacked?”
He nodded.
“When I first met with Madeline, she showed me a note that had been delivered to her work. It was short and sweet, made from letters cut out of a magazine. It said, ‘I know what you did.’”
“And?”
“Madeline gave the police everything the stalker had left for her except that note.”
“Why would she keep evidence from the police?”