Second Nature (Crimson Cove Mysteries Book 2)

by Tara Brown

  “We will be leaving this to the authorities. And you girls will stop keeping things to yourselves. Surely you see how dangerous this is?” My dad sighed heavily, but I nodded. He and Vincent were both right. Alone, I never would have won against someone with weapons and size. And being the girl I was, I wouldn’t have been able to fight back on a playing field like that—none of us could have. We didn't know the first thing about violence. But we as a group had one thing on our side. We had unlimited resources. Connection, money, power. These were the things we knew. They would be our form of fighting back.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Slumber party of doom

  The two FBI agents from Lindsey’s house, Ford and his boss Burnett, sat across from me. They didn't look any more impressed than the last time I saw them.

  “Tell us exactly what you remember. Don't leave anything out.”

  I sighed and started the story, the one we had agreed on. The one that was a lie. It was the version that left out the fact a scary killer was stalking us. It was based around a scenario where I woke from my nap, hearing a sound at the moment Lindsey called to see what was up.

  “So then I told Lindsey I’d heard something, and she said I should get out of the house. I tried to wake up Jake, but he was cold. I found a dart in his arm and looked at the closet where there was a gap between the doors. I knew the killer was there.” I closed my eyes, reliving the next part. It was the truth. “I texted Lindsey and told her to call 9-1-1 and then I ran. Someone lifted a gun barrel into the gap as I ran from the room and then they appeared—a person in black. He chased me. I ran down the stairs, twisting my ankle.” I shuddered but pressed on. “I made it to the guardhouse. I hid inside as the person in the dark clothes went by the windows, moving quickly. I closed my eyes and plugged my ears and waited for the sounds of sirens.”

  The old one, Burnett, sat quietly as the younger one, Ford, who looked like he believed everything I had said, leaned forward. “That is quite the story. Did you happen to see a face on this dark person? Or what type of gun it was?”

  “Small barrel on the gun, but I didn't see a face. The hood was up and it was dusk.”

  “When you were running were you aware if any of the house staff were there?” Burnett asked.

  “No one was there. I was screaming as loud as I can and no one came.”

  “That doesn't happen to girls like you, does it? You shout and they come running.” Burnett looked like he might smile.

  “And that is the end of this interview. She is the victim, again. I will not have you harassing or mocking her. Try to imagine what she’s just been through.” Mr. Casey got up from behind me and walked to my side. “One of the staff will see you out.” He smiled wide and held a hand to the doorway where my butler, Mr. Samson, was standing.

  He winked at me and smiled at the two men. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. If you wish to follow me, I’ll show you to the door.”

  “Thank you, Samson.” Mr. Casey clasped his hands.

  The two FBI agents stood, both giving me a look, neither one particularly friendly. Ford buckled, offering me a bit of a smile. “Thanks again, Miss Allen.”

  “Hopefully your days as the victim are over,” Burnett said with a wry grin.

  I offered nothing.

  I had nothing else. I’d given them my story. It was as truthful as I could give without endangering all of us, Jake especially though.

  Mr. Casey gave me a sympathetic look. “I’m going to see your dad. You did great, kid. Why don't you go have a lie down?” He left the room.

  I got up and headed for my bedroom. I didn't want to lie down. I wanted to be alone.

  When I closed my bedroom door, I pressed my back against it and touched the answering service icon on my phone. There were nine unanswered messages, each one from him.

  I tapped in my code and listened to the sound of his voice. If I closed my eyes he was in the room.

  “Hey, Lain. I know I should have stopped myself. I should have known you were—that it was your first time. God, I sound like an idiot. I’m sorry. I mean, I’m sorry and I’m not. Why aren’t you—?”

  The message ended and I pressed the next one, desperate for more of him. Desperate for this not to be the only way I would ever have him.

  “Lainey, don't do this. Please. I think you think it was a mistake and maybe it was too rushed—I rushed you—but I don't even know. I just—I need you. Can you at least read my texts? If you’re already reading them, can you please message me ba—?”

  Tears streamed my cheeks, soaking the front of my shirt.

  Staggering slightly, I made my way to my bed and collapsed, pressing start on the next message.

  “Okay, look. It’s been three days. You avoided me in the hallway at lunch. I know you’re mad at me. Can you at least give me a chance to explain? Lainey, what can I do to fix this?”

  The heartbreak in his voice didn't bother me anymore. It was the wasted time I could have had. If I had only asked him about Sage and Sierra—

  I lifted my finger to press the next one when my door shot open. I jumped, ready to scream as Sierra, the girl I had just thought about, stepped in.

  Tears flooded her eyes as she rushed me. She curled up on the bed, wrapping around me and forcing me to snuggle her.

  We didn't speak. We didn't need to.

  I pressed the voice mail, not caring if she heard it.

  “Lainey Allen, this is Jackson Van der Wall calling. I was hoping you would consider a date with me. I’ve thought about this a long time and should have called and asked when you were about eleven, but I was twelve and back then it might have been creep—”

  I started to laugh a snotty disgusting giggle.

  Sierra laughed too. “He is such a moron.”

  I loved that she said is and not was. Was, was a possibility but not one I was willing to consider.

  My door opened and Sage and Rita came through. Sage charged the bed, jumping on Sierra and me. We became a ball of emotional meltdowns.

  Lindsey came in during a big group cry, slowly making her way into the pile on my king-sized bed.

  Without explaining, without needing to, I pressed the next voice mail.

  “Day seven. A whole week? Lainey, you have to give in. Remember the shower and the way we snuggled? That was the first time for me. I don't snuggle. So it was a first for you and a first for me. There’s other things that are firsts, I’ve nev—”

  I turned and looked at Sierra. She shrugged. “Don't look at me, I never had sex with him.”

  “Too much like sex with a brother.” Sage laughed.

  “What?” I gasped. “You totally hooked up with him.”

  “Not like—I mean.” Her cheeks flushed as she shook her head. “Okay, I don't know how you did it. It’s Jake. We made out a fair bit, but no matter how hard I tried to force it, it was Jake.”

  Rita lifted a hand. “Unlike these sluts, I never made out with him. Ever.”

  Lindsey shook her head. “Me either.”

  That made me laugh but it turned to tears again. We laughed and we cried, and we didn't talk about the plan all night.

  When we woke it was a jumbled mess of hair and legs and hands.

  I groaned, stretching and needing space and to be away from the stifling heat.

  “Lain, your foot is in my face,” Lindsey growled and tried to move in the pit.

  I sat up, pulling my legs in and shuffling to the edge of the bed with Lindsey as she moved off and climbed onto the floor. She sat on her knees, staring at me.

  “I’m sorry.”

  My gaze lowered and I nodded. “I’m getting less sorry and more pissed off.”

  I got up and walked to my closet, flipping back the wall and revealing the spider web of information I had gathered.

  “Holy shit, dude.” Lindsey got up and walked into the large room. “You made your dressing room into a killer clue room?”

  “Yeah.” I grabbed my pen and paper and started adding the thing
s that had occurred since I was last there. I hadn’t shown any of them the corkboard.

  I stuck the new pictures and clues to the right places.

  “Lainey, what is this?” Sierra rubbed her eyes, smearing mascara everywhere as she stumbled into the closet.

  “It’s everything.”

  She leaned on the wall, blinking and trying to wake up as she took it all in. This is crazy.” She pointed at my drawings. “You draw almost as well as Sage.”

  “Not even close.” Sage laughed until she walked into the closet, then she just stared. Rita joined her, and for the first time since Rachel died, we focused all our energy on the facts before us.

  “So we still need to talk to Lori about her job at Silver Hills. And we need to find that designer, and we need to know why Mr. Henning. And we need to find the Van der Wall household and Jake. I don't think Lori or the designer will have anything to do with Jake.”

  They nodded, each of them as confused as I was.

  “I can ask Vincent to talk to Lori. She loves hi—”

  “No!”

  Lindsey’s eyes widened. “Why?”

  I bit my lip and contemplated just telling them about Vincent’s mother.

  “Secrets will be the reason this killer wins,” Sage spoke softly. She didn't always add a ton of sense to the conversation, but she had a point.

  I lifted my hand and opened the wall panel I had made specifically for that information.

  I didn't say a word as they looked up and realized Vincent and his mother were not suspects. And Rachel’s mom wasn't an asshole.

  “Oh my God! Are you kidding me?” Sage gave me a wide-eyed look.

  “Oh shit, Vince is going to be so upset.”

  “We can’t tell him.” I gave Sage and Lindsey a look. “This isn’t our secret to share. We have to be careful about what we say. Vincent’s dad knows the truth and he doesn't care. Vincent is his son. His mom made her choice.”

  Lindsey swallowed hard. “I feel sick.”

  Each of our phones buzzed, ringed, and made music at the same moment. We all jumped and lifted them at the same time. Maybe just as it was intended.

  Getting scared now, bitches? Because I’m just getting started.

  “Oh, come on,” Sage moaned.

  “There’s something else you should see.” I gave in, ready to share all my clues and secrets with them.

  I went and grabbed the key to the attic and walked them to the hallway door.

  We climbed the stairs to the little haven Ashton had made for himself. The moment Sage saw him she gasped and ran for him, jumping on the air mattress.

  He woke with a start, giving her a look and then hugging back. “Decided to spill the beans, Lain?”

  “Yeah. I think it’s time we start working as a team. If we keep doing things separately, this asshole is going to knock us off one at a time.”

  He nodded. “I heard about Jake. You okay?”

  “No. But we’re going to find him.” I shrugged and then cocked an eyebrow. “Who told you?”

  “Mazy came and let me out and brought me food. She kept me apprised of the situation. She said she figured the killer hadn’t actually killed Jake but had tortured him and was keeping him alive.”

  “She knew?”

  “Of course she knew. She’s smarter than all of us. The first day you were gone she was scared and needed someone to hang with so she came up here and asked if I cared if she slept up here. I’d assume she’s known since the beginning. She’s pretty clued in.”

  His words gave me an idea. “If Rachel’s phone sent us a text, maybe it’s on.” Every time Vincent’s connection had tried to ping it, it was off.

  Rita nodded. “We can ping it.” She grabbed the laptop from the armchair and sat down, lifting it into her arms. The way her fingers flew across the keyboard made me smile.

  Sage looked confused though. “Dude, what are you doing?”

  “Getting my friends in New York to ping that phone for us.” She grinned. “Lainey isn’t the only nerd in the building. Okay, she’s the only nerd here but not the only one I’m friends with.”

  We laughed and it warmed those deep cockles of my heart that she thought of me as a friend. We were friends.

  It hadn’t felt like we were. We didn't talk. But I was as much to blame for that as she was.

  Ashton gave me a look as Sage cried into his neck and held him tightly. “What did you figure out about the designer?”

  “I never made it there. I was going to ask Sage to come with me, but I got distracted.” I wished I had. Then Jake would be here with us. We would have gone to New York instead of his bed for a nap.

  Sage wiped her face and sniffled. “We can leave in an hour. We need to find him. We need to find Jake.”

  “Okay.”

  Rita gave me a look. “No offense, but Lindsey should probably be the one to go with Sage.” She bit her lip and gave Lindsey a look. “You naturally have that dirty boho look, sort of already going on.”

  Lindsey’s eyes narrowed but Ashton started to laugh, making the rest of us laugh.

  After a minute Lindsey wrinkled her nose. “So we split up then? Sage and I will go to New York, find Shuster Helmut, and you three go convince Lori to do some heavy talking about Silver Hills. We need to ensure that Lainey’s dad’s story checks out.” Lindsey gave me a look. “Sorry dude, but all our parents have to be triple checked. Just in case.”

  “I expect nothing less. My priority is Jake though. I just don't know where to start with him.”

  “Should we all stick our hands in and do a go team?”

  Rita laughed but the rest of us just stood there awkwardly.

  “Tough crowd,” Ashton muttered. “Guess I’m a little too excited to not be the ghost in the attic.”

  I turned and looked at him. “Attic?” The word brought an image to mind.

  He scowled. “What?”

  “Lain?” Sierra gave me a concerned look.

  “Jake’s in an attic. Look at the plywood floors and the plastic covering the insulation. The slant to the walls, here in the rafters. It’s all the same as in the picture. Jake’s in an attic.” I put my hand out. “Let me see your phone.”

  Lindsey shuddered and pulled the phone out of her pocket, entering her code and bringing up the picture of Jake, bound and apparently dead.

  I emailed the picture to myself from her phone. “Rita, you done with the computer?”

  “Yup.” She got up and let me have it. I sat and opened the email, enlarging the photo. I ran it through some different filters, trying to see the things in the shadows. “Holy shit.” I stared at the screen.

  In one of the photos with the filter changing the contrast, a stamp could be seen on some of the lumber. It gave me pause, making me look around the room. “Look.” I pointed at the three triangles intersecting and then pointed at the same mark on the lumber next to us.

  “Oh my God. He’s in an attic here, somewhere.”

  “A vacant house maybe.”

  “Jesus, we need to find him.”

  “Whose house could that be?”

  I lifted my gaze to them. “It could be any house with an attic. We need the designs.” I looked at Sage.

  She swallowed hard but it was Ashton who spoke, “Tom was screaming at someone about this time last year. Something about different lumber for the framing and rafters. He was angry he couldn't get something so he fired the supplier and hired someone new. He said the new wood wasn't quite as good, but it was still superior to anything on the market, and he needed it because they were out of lumber.”

  “So the houses that are one year old or less would be out of the running.”

  “Yeah. Anything over one year old and has an attic.” He sighed. “Sierra, you go to New York with Lindsey and Vincent. Sage, you go home and look through the plans in Tom’s computer. Lainey, you and Rita go see Lori. Don't hesitate to bring some New Yorker down on her.”

  Rita nodded, no longer smiling at Ashto
n over every little thing.

  “I’ll stay here and keep looking over that photo. Maybe there are other clues. The moment someone finds something connected to Jake, we all meet up there.”

  We all got up, looking rough and streaky.

  “What day is it?” I was still a bit lost.

  “Saturday.”

  “Jake’s been missing a week?” That didn't sound possible.

  “Yeah.” Lindsey nodded and bit her lip.

  “Oh my God.” I sighed. “What if he’s—”

  “Stop.” Ashton walked to me and lifted my chin. “Jake is strong. Stronger than any of us. Plus the police and FBI are looking for him. Maybe they’ll find him before we do.”

  I tried to hear the things he said. I tried not to hear my fears.

  It wasn't easy. I didn't imagine pretending I still gave a crap about Lori and Silver Hills would be easy either.

  I was going to go insane waiting for word on Jake.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Tom the douche jerkface. Douche isn’t a nice word

  In the car I glanced over at Rita. “Did I miss homecoming?”

  She nodded as she drove. “You did. Be glad. Worst party I ever went to.”

  “It’s usually pretty awesome. They really go over the top. Last year we had Lady Gaga entertain us for the night.”

  “This year we had bitches crying and crappy punch. I didn't even dare spike it, in case the crying girls got worse.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t even stop myself.

  She drove up to the gate of the Bueller household and smiled wide for the guard. “Hi!” She waved.

  I leaned in too so he could see my face.

  The large gate opened slowly. I waved at him as we drove by. When we drove up to the front door, Robert opened it.

  He smiled pleasantly, but he looked rough. I knew Jake’s butler was a friend of his. They all got together once a week and played poker. Likely to bitch about us.

  Matt and Aaron, Lindsey’s little brothers and hellish little weasels I considered a form of birth control, came running out the front door. They waved at me on their way into the yard with plastic guns and large russet potatoes.