Winter

by Michelle Love

  When Olly had been acting crazy, she had wondered if it could be him— Tommaso taking that restraining order out might have tipped him over the edge. But now? No. No way.

  She went upstairs to her old room and lay down on the comforter. They hadn’t changed it much since she’d left—some of her old books and paintings were still on the shelves and walls. But it felt like a stranger’s room, another life, a million years ago.

  She had no more tears to cry and soon, she fell into an uneasy sleep, wrapped in the comforter. She didn’t hear the intruder slip quietly through the back door, thanks to the tricky lock, and pad quietly up the stairs.

  He’d seen the bastard billionaire drive away and couldn’t believe it. He’d left her alone? Jesus …

  But he wasn’t prepared for the kill. He had it all planned and now wasn’t the time … but he couldn’t waste an opportunity to be near her. So, he waited until he saw her go upstairs and gave it another ten minutes. He figured, when she didn’t come back down, that she had gone to sleep. So, he broke in; he knew of old that the back door was tricky, and crept upstairs. She was in bed, asleep.

  “Inca?” His voice was a whisper. She murmured. He pulled out the hypodermic he always carried, regretting not bringing his knife with him, and slipped the needle into her neck. She moaned as he pressed the plunger. “Sleep, my darling.”

  He waited until he heard her breathing deepen, becoming steady. He stripped down, took the knife from his pocket, and lay down beside her. He drew the tip of the blade over her skin, imagining pushing it deep into her, feeling her hot, sticky blood pulse over his skin as she bled out, the look of terror in her eyes as he murdered her, terror and resignation at his betrayal. The blood roared in his ears and he felt his heart quicken.

  Soon. But not tonight. He was hard. He dropped the knife, slipped on a condom, and began to masturbate, stifling his grunts, burying his face in her hair. When he came, he dreamed of holding her ruined body as the life went from her eyes and her last breath sighed from her perfect lips.

  Raffaelo sat in silence, waiting for Tommaso. The bar wasn’t busy; there were just a few customers drifting in and out. Raffaelo felt antsy. He wanted to see Inca; a day away from her made him nervous. The TV was on behind the bar, the sound muted. Raffaelo stared at it, watching news reports, reading the headlines running across the bottom of the screen. A drug-related shooting in the city, a building collapse, a body being pulled from the dark water of Elliott Bay. He leaned over and turned the sound up.

  “The body has been badly mauled by marine life, but the police were able to tell us that the victim was a man in his eighties and that his death is suspicious. Further details are expected to be released later today after a full autopsy.”

  “That’s what I came to tell you.”

  Olly’s voice made Raffaelo both start and, as he turned to him, he could see the strain on his face. Raffaelo’s heart began to thump heavily against his ribs and he knew what Olly was going to say before he said it.

  “It’s Tyler.”

  Raffaelo stood, his gaze intent on the cop, and Olly nodded.

  “King Country confirmed it to me just now. Raff …” Olly’s voice was low but urgent. “We need to get to Inca. Now.”

  Raffaelo was already out the door before he’d finished his sentence.

  The funeral was a sad repeat of Nancy’s, except, this time, Raffaelo stayed with Inca as her father’s coffin was brought in. She hadn’t slept since the night Raffaelo had come for and she’d opened the door, seen his face, and knew.

  She hadn’t cried. Numb was the only emotion she felt now. After Tyler’s coffin was lowered into the ground, she turned and walked away before the pastor had even finished his prayer. She kept walking and walking until she reached the road. She knew Raffaelo, and probably Tommaso and Olly, would be following her, but she didn’t care. Nothing mattered.

  She stopped and let out a howl of complete rage, grief, and frustration. “Come and get me, motherfucker! Come on! I’m right here! Fucking kill me and let’s get this done!”

  She went on screaming and cursing until her voice gave out. When Raffaelo wrapped his arms around her, she struggled, but he wouldn’t let her go and eventually she cracked, sobbing in his arms.

  Raffaelo closed the bedroom door and went down to the study. Most of the furniture had been covered or taken to storage now in preparation for their move back to Italy and only a skeleton staff remained to tend to the Winters and their guest.

  Tommaso was waiting for his brother. “How is she?”

  Raffaelo looked exhausted. “The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

  Tommaso nodded. “You’re right. Raff … I didn’t want to tell you before, what with the funeral and everything, but I have some news.”

  Raffaelo rubbed his eyes. “Not more bad news, please.”

  Tommaso chuckled softly. “No. Not exactly … it’s just that …when you and Inca move to Sorrento … I won’t be coming with you.”

  Raffaelo’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

  Tommaso smiled. “It’s time we lived our own lives, now, Raff. This past year, loving the same woman—although I’ll never, ever regret one day—well, after the crap with Dad, I think I realized, I have to move on. Find my own Inca. She gave me a beautiful glimpse of what could be. I’m looking forward to finding out what the future holds.”

  Raffaelo got up and hugged his brother tightly. “Don’t go too far.”

  “I won’t. I promise.”

  They made plans to travel back to Italy at the end of the week. Inca told Raffaelo she wanted some time with Olly and Knox before they left. She still couldn’t believe they were the only ones left. So much death, so much sorrow.

  Olly opened the door and Inca saw he was wearing pain-spattered overalls. He looked sober and even, Inca couldn’t believe it, relaxed. He held up a brush.

  “Painting the living room. Come on in.”

  She followed him into the kitchen and studied him as he made coffee.

  “You look remarkably chipper.”

  He grinned, and he looked like the Olly she’d loved and adored for more than half her life. “Chipper? Make sure you drink your coffee with your little finger out if you’re going to come around here using them posh words.”

  She giggled. “Loser. Seriously, though, I mean it.”

  He shrugged, flushing in embarrassment. “Took some time off. I needed this time to get my head right. Sort out my priorities. Let other things go.” He gave a small laugh. “It’s been good. I’ve been … regrouping.”

  Inca said nothing, sipping her coffee. Olly’s overalls were spattered with green paint and she nodded at them. “Suits you. How’s things with the Whirling Derp-bitch?”

  Olly had told her, hesitantly, that he’d ‘sorta, kinda’ been dating Belinda Clements. Inca’s reaction had been unexpected; she’d burst into peals of laughter and told him to “have at it, but, boy, am I going to make you suffer for it.”

  Olly snickered, but tried to look disapproving. “All right.” His smile faded. “How’s things at home?”

  Inca sighed to herself. She could see behind the question. She spoke carefully when she replied. “I’m getting there, Olly. It’ll take some time.”

  “It will. Look, for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing the right thing. A new start. I hate to admit it, but I like your Raffaelo. He’s a good man.”

  Inca grinned. “Still not keen on Tommaso, then?”

  Olly laughed. “He’s okay too.”

  Inca smiled, but then her face become serious. “You know, you’ll always be welcome in Italy. For however long.”

  Olly nodded. “You’re sweet, but I think it’s time for me to build my own new life.”

  Inca raised her glass to him. “Here’s to a new life.”

  Later, Knox came to pick her up and they decided to get pizza and go back to his place. Raffaelo would pick her up at eight, but Inca glanced at the weather with concern. Another winter st
orm was coming in and the snow was getting really heavy. She and Knox talked and ate, but she couldn’t help being a little nervous about Raffaelo in the snow. She kept looking at her watch.

  After the fourth time that Inca glanced at the clock, Knox grinned. “He said he’d be here at eight and he’ll be here at eight.”

  She grinned. “Sorry. It’s just … finally we get to be happy, and it would just our luck if the weather … well, you know.”

  Knox rubbed her shoulder but said nothing. Inca smiled at him, then frowned when she noticed he wasn’t looking at her.

  “What is it? What’s up?”

  Knox sighed. “Oh, you know … I just wish I had what you and Raffaelo have. What Raffaelo has.”

  Inca swallowed, embarrassed by the compliment. “Knox …”

  “You look really beautiful tonight, Inca.”

  Inca glanced down at herself—a simple white T-shirt, admittedly a little skintight, and old tattered jeans. She looked at him, askance. “You need your eyes tested.”

  Knox’s face was red and he threw back the rest of his drink. “Sorry.” He got up and went to the kitchen. Inca hesitated for a moment. She hated to see him like this, shy, embarrassed. “Knox?”

  “I’m good, Inca, really. I’ll be out in a sec.” His voice seemed normal.

  She shrugged and glanced again at the clock. Raffaelo would be in here in five minutes. God, she hated herself for saying it but she hoped Knox would go—she wanted Raffaelo all to herself tonight.

  Knox came back, handing her a soda. She waved the T remote. “Wanna watch some crap?”

  He smiled. “Sure thing.”

  Inca flicked through the stations until she found a comedy show. She grinned and turned to him. “Knox, I …”

  Knox, calmly but forcefully, slammed his fist into her temple and everything went dark.

  Raffaelo couldn’t wait any longer—he wanted Inca to have her time with her friends, but the snow was turning into a blizzard now and he had no intention of sleeping apart from her tonight. He left a note to tell Tommaso where he was going, then got into his car.

  The storm was bad. By the time he got into town, it was hard to see out of the windshield.

  Raffaelo knocked on Knox Westerwick’s front door and waited. Strange. No answer. He knocked again. “Knox? Inca?” Nothing.

  His heart began to pound. He went to the window and looked in; there was nobody there, but something caught his eye. A smashed bottle … and blood. Not much, but drops of it on the floor. Raffaelo cussed and went back to the door, kicking it in easily. He dashed into the living room and stopped, terror screeching into his veins. There was more blood on the floor. Raffaelo grabbed it and turned—and his heart stopped.

  In blood … Inca’s? … scrawled across the wall were written six words:

  You’ll never see her alive again.

  Everything fell into place. Knox. Knox Westerwick, the easy-going cop, the flirt. Everybody’s buddy. As Raffaelo raced out of the house and into the snow, towards Olly’s house, he could only think one thing.

  How did we not see it?

  Olly took one look at Raffaelo’s face and knew. “Jesus, no …”

  “It’s Westerwick,” Raffaelo spat. “He’s taken her. There are signs of a struggle at the house, and blood … and a message.”

  Olly held up his hands. “Now, wait. We don’t know that it’s him. Someone might have taken them both.”

  Raffaelo fumed, his terror making him antsy, but Olly was right. Olly picked up his cell and tried to call Knox.

  His deputy answered in a happy, sing-song voice. “Hey, boss. God, this storm is really closing in.”

  Olly frowned and, looking at Raffaelo, switched the phone to speaker. “Hey, Knox. Where are you?”

  “We thought you were with Inca.”

  “I am.”

  “You went out in the storm?”

  Knox laughed and both of the men listening heard the slightly hysterical tone. “Well, I wanted to make an event of it, you know? I could have just killed her at my place, but what fun would that have been? This way, in this storm, I get to take my time, and there’s really nothing you can do about it.”

  Raffaelo moaned, and Olly looked appalled. “Knox … what are you talking about?” He needed to hear him say it.

  “I’m going to kill Inca, of course.”

  Olly felt the breath being pushed out of his lungs. “You? Knox? All this time.”

  Knox laughed. “God, you were all so blind. Yes, me, Olly. Yes, I killed those women. Yes, I’m going to kill Inca, and believe me, she will suffer the torments of the damned before she dies.”

  “Why?” Raffaelo was now on his knees. “Please, Knox … please, don’t hurt her.”

  There was a silence on the phone then, in a mocking voice, Knox said, “I’m sorry you won’t be able to say goodbye before I stab her to death, Winter, but you should never have loved her. She is mine.”

  The line went dead and Raffaelo howled. Olly grabbed him, trying to calm him down. “Raff. Raff, come on. We have to think straight, think about where to find her.”

  “What’s going on?” Behind them, Tommaso, his face pale, was standing in the doorway. Raffaelo stared at his brother, his eyes bottomless pits of sorrow.

  “It’s Inca,” he said, his voice breaking. “She’s been taken.”

  Inca woke, dazed, in the trunk of a moving car. Her hands were bound behind her back and, although she tried, she could feel they were bound with plastic ties. What the fuck was going on? Knox? He was the killer? She tried to clear her fuzzy head, her mind whirling.

  Knox was the killer. He had killed her mother, her father, and now he was going to kill her. It didn’t make sense … why?

  The car stopped. Oh God. The trunk opened and she was hit with a blast of freezing snow. Knox easily pulled her out of the trunk. Inca screamed, but the sound was lost in the blizzard. Knox carried her over to another car, then she saw the other car … and Belinda Clements waiting.

  “Hey, bitch,” Belinda said as Knox dumped Inca into the new car’s backseat.

  “Go fuck yourself,” Inca growled, then winced as Knox stuck a hypodermic into her arm. Unconsciousness came quickly …

  Belinda smiled at Knox. “Do me a favor … make sure you cause that bitch serious pain.”

  Knox was stone-faced. “A knife in the gut will do that, I think I can promise. Get inside … we have a phone call to make.”

  Belinda smiled as they walked into her house. “I still don’t know why we have to bring Olly into this.”

  “Because,” Knox said impatiently. “With the storm, they won’t be able to bring in anymore police and I get to take my time with Inca. Now call your damn boyfriend.”

  Panicking, Olly and the Winters made a list of where Knox might take Inca. “He’ll want to take his time,” Olly said, feeling sorry for Raffaelo as he said it. “So it’ll be somewhere that’s not easy to find, or which would be cut off in the snow.”

  Olly got a map out and began to circle where he thought they might be when Raffaelo put his finger down on the place he’d first met his love—the Winter Mansion.

  Olly shook his head. “It’s too obvious.”

  But Tommaso agreed with his brother. “I’ll go with you.”

  Raffaelo shook his head. “No, we need to cover as much ground as we can. I’ll go to the mansion.”

  They decided Tommaso would go to Tyler’s house and the twins left Olly to search the town. He was about to leave when his cellphone buzzed. Belinda. He made an annoyed sound,

  “Belinda, this isn’t a good time. I’m sorry.”

  “He’s here.”

  “Who’s here?” A flash of irritation took before what she said had sunk in.

  “He says he’s going to kill me, Olly. Knox. He says he’ll kill me unless you come.”

  Olly’s face hardened. “I don’t believe you, Belinda.” He heard a scuffle and Belinda cried out in pain. Then his stomach turned over as he hear
d his voice.

  “Rosenbaum, I currently have a .22 caliber pistol pressed against your girlfriend’s throat. I will kill her unless you get here in five minutes. Do I need to tell you not bring anyone else, to come alone?”

  “No.”

  “Do it.” Knox hung up.

  Olly took off, out into the storm and down the road. He parked and jumped out of the car, weapon drawn. The door was open. He went in, checking around him, his police training kicking in. He got to the living room and stopped. Knox was standing against the fireplace, smiling at him. His gun sat on a chair, away from his reach. Olly frowned.

  “Hello, Chief.”

  Olly glanced around him, never taking his weapon off Knox. “Where’s Inca?”

  Knox laughed. “That’s just typical. Even now, with your girlfriend in danger, your first thought is of our lovely Inca. Inca isn’t your problem anymore, Olly. Soon, she’ll be no one’s problem.”

  “Why did you call me here, Knox? When you could have gotten clean away?”

  Knox’s smile dropped. “Loose ends.”

  Olly’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s Belinda?”

  Knox laughed. “Right behind you.”

  And then there was pain, a searing, shocking blow, and Olly’s head felt like it had exploded. Olly dropped to his knees. Another blow, and then there was nothing.

  Knox nodded at Belinda as he walked casually over to Olly and relieved him of his gun. Belinda beamed. “Did I do good?”

  “You did good.”

  Belinda looked down at Olly’s prone body. “Pity. He was a good fuck, if nothing else.”

  Knox smiled. “And yet your hatred of Inca Sardee outstripped your need to get laid.”

  Belinda laughed. “Just the thought of you gutting that bitch is keeping me warm. So, what now?”