“When you get here, I’ll explain everything.” She gave Sarah the address, as she’d never been to Debbie’s house.
Curious what information she had, Sarah gathered her purse and phone. As she headed to the car, she texted Mason that Debbie had some information about Mr. Dunwoody’s killer. She’d text when she arrived there, too. That seemed like overkill, but she didn’t want the men to worry. Tonight wasn’t supposed to be a long night. In fact, the men were hoping for an early dinner and lots of loving afterwards.
Once she put Debbie’s address into her GPS app on her phone, she let her mind wander as she headed across Pleasure. She wished Debbie had given her a hint as to who she suspected, or had she seen a face and remembered something? That must be it. Perhaps someone who didn’t seem to fit came to the reunion. She mentally shook her head. If that were the case, he wouldn’t have been a PHS graduate. Guess she’d find out when she arrived.
Deb only lived fifteen minutes away in a nice trailer. As soon as Sarah cut the engine, she texted Liam again that she was at Debbie’s. Sarah had to wonder if Debbie’s hours had been cut back or something as she seemed to be free a lot lately.
She rang the bell and Debbie ushered her in. Her home seemed dark and rather small, and the ceiling shorter than the average home, but Sarah understood how hard it was to make ends meet on a teacher’s salary, let alone working for minimum wage. Yearbooks were spread on the table next to a plate of food.
“I’m making some coffee. Have a seat,” Deb said.
Sarah sat on the sofa and glanced around at the disarray. She hadn’t thought of Deb as a hoarder, but given how her life had been speckled with tragedy, it made sense. “So tell me your theory.”
Deb came out with the coffee cups on a tray, along with sugar and cream. “Can you move those two yearbooks so I can set this down?”
Sarah picked up the books and placed them on the sofa to make room. Debbie set down the tray and picked up her cup, then moved over to the chair across from her. “How about we drink up, have some snacks, and then get down to business?”
Now she realized what this was all about. Debbie was lonely and needed an excuse for her to visit. “Sure.”
Sarah added some cream and took a sip. “Nice.” It tasted fresh ground, not instant. Then again, Deb worked at Pack & Save. Maybe she received an employee discount.
“How’s it going with your two men?” Deb asked.
As much as Sarah loved talking about the men she was falling in love with—okay, was in love with—it seemed odd to speak the words. Then again, Deb had gone to happy hour the other day, so maybe now she felt part of the group. Maybe she wanted to live vicariously.
“They’re amazing, but they work long hours. Too often, either both are working or one of them is.” That didn’t stop them from putting her needs first, however. She smiled into her cup and drank more of the wonderful brew.
“What’s it like being with two men?”
A bit of her was disappointed that perhaps Deb didn’t have any idea who’d killed Mr. Dunwoody, but in truth, it was nicer to socialize than be at home doing lesson plans. “Great and hard at the same time. I’m still trying to figure out how to handle both of them.”
“Don’t they get jealous?”
“So far, no.”
She shook her head. “Isn’t it highly distracting to have two men…work on you at the same time?”
She laughed at Debbie’s euphemism. “Yes. I’m still dealing with that also.”
“On a different topic, I always pictured myself being a math teacher at Pleasure High, but life got in the way. How is that working out for you? Is it wonderful?”
“It’s hard. I don’t think the kids are as enthusiastic as you and I used to be.”
“How so?”
Sarah shifted her thoughts away from the men to school. She spoke about how there seemed to be more and more kids in each class, and how she was required to do a lot more of administrative-type stuff than before. “I like incorporating the iPad into teaching, but sometimes the good old pencil and paper is just as good.” The coffee had run through her. “May I use the restroom?”
“Sure. Down the hall. First door on the right.”
As Sarah stood, she was a little light-headed and swayed. “Whoa.”
Debbie jumped up. “You okay?”
“Maybe I didn’t get enough sleep last night.” There was no maybe about it. Mason and Liam had spent hours “working” on her body.
After she used the bathroom, she returned. Maybe if she ate, she’d feel better. Debbie was returning with a freshly poured cup of coffee. “Thought you might need more fortification.”
“Appreciate it.” She sipped the hot liquid. “So tell me about this mystery killer.” Sarah had to blink to stay focused.
“I met with Butch Harnbarger.”
The name sounded familiar, but she was having trouble staying awake. “Harnbarger? Who’s he again?”
“Mr. Dunwoody’s coauthor. He goes to the University in Bozeman.”
“Oh, yeah. You think he had something to do with Mr. Dunwoody’s death?”
She shook her head. “No, but he had a younger brother who went to PHS.”
Why was she having such trouble keeping her facts straight? She was a math person for goodness sake. She drank more coffee, hoping the caffeine would do the trick. “Do I know him?” Harnbarger. The name didn’t sound at all familiar.
“Maybe. That’s what we’re here to find out. Butch mentioned he had a younger step-brother who went to school with Mr. Dunwoody, which was how the two are connected.”
“What was the guy’s last name?”
“Don’t know, but his first name was Steven. I saw a picture of him. He wore black glasses and wore his blond hair to his shoulders. The photo I saw was a graduation photo. It was taken in our gym.”
“Steven. Glasses. Long hair. Do you know the year?”
“No. That’s why I dragged out the old yearbooks. He was older than Butch, who’s our age. That means he graduated a few years before us. I went to the school and borrowed these yearbooks.”
Sarah leaned forward and her vision blurred.
“You sure you’re okay? Do you want to stretch out on the sofa? I can look through the pictures for a few minutes while you take a short nap.”
She bet she couldn’t see the photos if she tried. “Maybe if I rest my eyes I’ll be okay.”
* * * *
Sarah hadn’t meant to doze off, but when she opened her eyes, she wasn’t lying down with her head propped up on a pillow any more. She was sitting up. Her head spun and her vision went in and out of focus. Debbie was sitting across from her with a gun pointed at Sarah’s chest. Oh, my God.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Debbie?” Sarah’s tongue stuck the roof of her mouth. Fear catapulted through her.
Her feet were bound together, and her hands seemed to be duct taped behind her back. Her shoulders ached from the awkward position. What the hell was going on? A strong band tightened around her chest.
This can’t be happening.
“Not so perfect anymore, are you?”
“Perfect? What are you talking about?” Her head pounded. Maybe that was why Debbie’s words made no sense.
“You got into cheerleading and I didn’t. Remember smearing that fact in my face?” Debbie’s lips contorted.
“No.” She might have offered her condolences, though at sixteen it was possible she sounded caddy, but she never was a mean girl.
Sarah looked around, trying to figure out how to get out of there. You’re all tied up. She struggled, but the tape only dug into her skin.
“Convenient you forgot. How about how you stole Billy Jackson from me?”
Was this about jealousy? Don’t piss her off. “He asked me out. He told me you broke up with him.” Or had he lied?
“Do I look like a girl who would dump the football quarterback?”
Think. Think. She’d always wondered about that.
“No.”
The pieces were finally falling into place. “Did you kill Mr. Dunwoody?” She seemed crazy enough to.
Dumb ass. Why did you ask? Tears dripped down Sarah’s face. She choked back a sob.
Be strong.
“You finally figured it out. Took you long enough.” Debbie waved the gun. “It doesn’t matter if you know since I’m going to kill you anyway. I only kept you alive this long so you’ll realize just how you ruined my life.”
Sarah tried to picture Debbie taking a baseball bat or some other heavy object and smashing Mr. Dunwoody over the head. Or did she have an accomplice? “I guess I misjudged you.” Her voice cracked.
“You always have.” Her lip curled.
Keep her talking. Maybe she’ll change her mind. Sarah wiggled, forgetting that it only made it worse. “How did you manage to drag his body to the dumpster?” Sarah really didn’t want to know. “More importantly, why did you harm him? Mr. Dunwoody cared for you.” Her throat clogged.
She laughed. “He cared for me? You have it all backward. He only adored you.” She waved the weapon and stepped closer. If it was possible, more adrenaline raced through Sarah’s body.
“That’s not true.”
Debbie shook her head. “When he came to the reunion, he didn’t even know my name.” She tapped her chest. The jaw tightening and the skin creasing her forehead spoke of years of pain. “My name! After all the times I helped the man erase the board and work with his students.”
“I’m sorry.” Debbie couldn’t possibly think Sarah had anything to do with that. “He was old. His memory wouldn’t be as clear as it used to be.”
She cackled this time, and the sound was closer to that of a maniac. “He sure as hell remembered who you were. Said he was writing a fucking book just for you.”
She was speechless. Her heart pounded and her stomach cramped. Debbie’s eyes narrowed as she raised her gaze. At first, Sarah thought this was a merely a scare tactic and that she only said she’d killed Mr. Dunwoody to piss Sarah off, but now she realized Debbie really was a murderer. Bile rose to her throat as chills raced over her body. She’d finally found two men to love and now she’d never live long enough to tell them.
As the realization sunk in, blood pounded in her head and her blood pressure skyrocketed. She searched for a way out.
“You won’t want to do this, Debbie. You’ll go to jail. Do you want that?” She was hyperventilating but couldn’t help it.
Debbie smiled. “It’ll be worth it to watch you suffer.” Her arm lowered a few inches and a sliver of hope surfaced. Then Debbie stepped even closer. “Come to think of it, I might put a bullet in your kneecap first just to hear you scream.”
Only now did Sarah notice the plastic sheet she was sitting on. Oh, God. Was it to catch the blood? Every muscle ached with pain and fear. Think!
Then the sludge that had occupied her veins began to flow as she accepted the inevitability of her death for the second time in three months. And as horrible as the thought of dying was, she didn’t wish this pain on Ceci, Liam, and Mason. She closed her eyes and waited for the end.
* * * *
“She’s not answering her texts,” Liam said pacing the kitchen.
“She left three hours ago. You know how girls are.” Mason might have appeared calm but he’d taken out a beer, downed half, then retrieved a second one, clearly forgetting he had one open.
“I’m calling her.” Liam drummed his fingers on the counter while her cell rang. Then it went to voice mail. “Sarah, call me. We’re worried.”
“That’s not like her.” Now Mason’s brows pinched. “Did she say where this Debbie Litner lives?”
“No, but give me a sec and I’ll locate her cell.” He punched a few buttons. He’d made sure her locator was on. “Come on, come on. Got it. Let’s go and see if maybe she broke down.”
Mason grabbed his keys and wallet. “She’ll be mad if we barge in to their girl time.”
“Who says I plan to barge in?” Sarah was rather easy going when it came to them, but if she was having a good time, he didn’t want to interfere.
“Let’s go.”
Mason drove and Liam gave the directions. To his dismay, Sarah’s car wasn’t in front of the house, but the lights inside the house were on.
“Do you think she and Debbie went some place?” Mason asked.
“It’s the best explanation.” It made sense that Sarah wouldn’t text them if the two of them were heading someplace. Liam parked. “I’ll just check.”
“Give me your phone in case she texts you.”
Liam tossed him his cell and strode up to the front door. His sixth sense kicked into gear as he neared. Sixth sense, hell. It was an angry voice that stopped him. Instead of ringing the bell, he stepped to the side, his pulse racing. He turned toward the car. Mason was getting out. Fortunately, he closed the door softly.
Liam quietly made his way to the side of the house. He worked hard to control his breathing while he waited for Mason. His friend was stealth personified. They both stilled, the voice fainter, but still angry. He motioned for Mason to go around the back.
Once his partner disappeared, he peaked in the side window. Damn. It was a bedroom. He wanted to have a better vantage point before he barged in and made a complete ass of himself. For all he knew, the girls were watching a horror movie or something. At that thought, his blood pressure lowered.
Returning to the front, he eased up the door and placed his ear on the wood. Another voice sounded. It could belong to Sarah, but he was unable to tell. Shit. Taking the chance of being seen, he slid next to the front window and peer in. His heart stopped.
He jerked out of the way but feared that because his heart was beating so hard, Debbie would hear him. He patted his chest for his cell. Double shit. He’d handed his cell to Mason. By the time he forced the door open, there was no telling what Debbie would do. As quietly, but as quickly as he could, he returned to the side of the house and made his way to the back. When he spotted Mason, he motioned him forward.
“Debbie’s got a gun on Sarah.” Adrenaline rushed through him. He had to fight the urge not to barge in. If he’d had his weapon he would have.
“What?”
“Call 911 and get Justin out here, but tell him not to use a siren.”
While Mason made the call, Liam tried to think. Mason had a weapon. Their only hope would be to sneak in the back and surprise her.
Mason returned. “Can you get in the back door?” Liam asked.
He smiled, but it came out forced. “Already picked the lock.”
There were times like this when he appreciated Mason’s skills. “Let’s go.”
Like two lions on the hunt, Mason opened the back door and they both slipped inside without a sound. Sarah’s voice rang out, and the pain cut him deep. Mason was the more experienced soldier, so he led.
Using well-honed hand signals, the men slipped through the kitchen, keeping away from the door that led to the living room. A knife caddy sat on the counter and he withdrew one from the holder. Against a woman, a knife would be an effective weapon.
Mason nodded. It was time.
He stepped into the doorway and raised his weapon. “Debbie, put the gun down. It’s over.”
Liam wanted to look, but it was better if Debbie thought Mason had come alone.
“Don’t come any closer.” Debbie sounded like she was ready to break. It would only take a second for her to shoot Mason.
“Cops are on their way. You can’t escape.” Liam chanced looking. Mason inched closer.
Liam figured it was time to show Debbie that she was up against more than one person. He kept the knife behind his back. “Hello, Debbie.” He almost smiled at the panic crossing her face. He edged his way to the front door and unlocked it. “Don’t need the sheriff to break down your door, now do we.”
She glanced behind them both. Hopefully, she was wondering how many men were there. Liam walked to the sofa. Sarah was doing
so well not saying a word. She leaned forward to expose her wrists.
“Don’t touch her.” Debbie’s eyes glazed over.
“I won’t.” Liam used the knife to cut the duct tape. Her feet were tied, too. Damn. The girl was going down.
“Step back.” Debbie sounded crazed.
Liam needed to undo Sarah’s ankles. “You don’t want to do this, Debbie.”
The gun went off and plaster sprayed everywhere. Sarah screamed. He had to get her out of there. If one bold move, he gathered her in his arms and ran behind Mason. If Debbie shot, and hit him, then so be it. At least Sarah would be safe.
Another shot sounded, but he didn’t stop. He had to get Sarah to safety. Once in the kitchen, he set her down to cut off her restraints. She leaned against him. Shit. She was unsteady.
“Debbie. I won’t miss the next time.” Mason’s voice boomed.
Mase had everything under control. His friend was probably counting the minutes until Justin Bradford or Tom Carnes barged in.
As soon as he freed Sarah, she collapsed in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”
She wasn’t making any sense, but they’d discuss her needless apology later. He didn’t want her in the same house with Debbie. “Let’s go out the back.”
“What about Mason?”
“I think he can handle Debbie.”
Liam half-carried her out the back. As they rounded the corner, the sheriff’s cruiser rolled up. “Stay here.” He made sure she was steady before he left her.
He raced to Justin and told him what to expect inside. “Door’s unlocked.”
“You’re making it too easy for us, Liam.”
As Justin and Tom strode toward the house, he rushed back to Sarah. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
“What about Mason? What was that gunshot?”
“Mason was keeping order.”
No sooner had he gotten Sarah settled in the backseat of the SUV than the sheriff escorted Debbie in handcuffs out the front door. Mason walked behind them with Sarah’s red purse slung over his shoulder.
She let out a little giggle. “Red is his color.”
Unexpected Pleasures [Pleasure, Montana 11] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 16