“You did. We both know you did. You said so at the attorney’s office.”
“I never admitted to any such thing, but you sure sent that detective after me, didn’t you?”
“He figured it out on his own,” I said. “He knows about the killer.” When he didn’t say anything, I added, “What happened when Brady showed up at your house?”
“He was freaked out that I’d driven home, but Belinda told him she’d driven. As soon as she went inside, he told me he knew I’d witnessed something related to your kidnapping. He pressed me for details, but I told him he was crazy, and he eventually left.”
Roy’s description matched Belinda’s, not Brady’s. Why had Brady lied? To what end? To make me distrust Belinda and alienate myself from one of my allies?
“Roy, I know you hate me, but do you hate me enough to want someone to kill me?”
He closed his eyes for a long moment before blinking them open again. “A month ago, I told you to leave, Magnolia. I offered you all that money just to leave.”
Oh, my God. “You were trying to protect me.”
His chest rose and fell rapidly. “He said he’d kill you if you came back and told people.”
I gasped. “Who?”
“I don’t know who he is. He texted me.”
“What did you see that night, Roy?”
He looked up at me with wild eyes. “I don’t want to relive it again, Magnolia.”
“Neither do I,” I said, “but it replays in my mind every single night. Sometimes multiple times a night. I still have the scar.” I took a deep breath. “We have to stop him. He’s killed more people since he killed Melanie.”
He tilted his head. “Who’s Melanie?”
“The woman who was killed that night. Her name was Melanie Seaborn. She was a nurse.”
Roy looked away, but his face had gone pale.
“She was only one of several, Roy. Tiffany Kessler—do you know about her?”
His eyes widened. “The woman Dad was accused of killing? He didn’t do it.”
“No. He didn’t. The serial killer did.”
“There’s no serial killer. I would have heard about it on the news.”
“Most people haven’t put it together just yet. Brady knows. And now a couple of other cops know too, but that’s it.”
“Two victims, years ago,” he said in a patronizing tone. “That doesn’t mean we’re dealing with a serial killer.”
“Amy Danvers and Emily Johnson were killed by him too. And there were still more. The killer’s been texting me too.” I waited until he turned back to me with teary eyes. “I need to know what you know.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know anything.”
“Please, Roy. I’m begging you. I need you to help save my life.”
He swallowed and looked close to tears. After about ten seconds, I was sure he wasn’t going to answer, but before I could say anything—or leave—he said, “I followed you out into the woods. I’d seen Blake go out there with some girl, and then you followed them. I wanted to see what was going on. I thought maybe I’d see you two having sex. If I was lucky, the three of you.”
“Eww! You knew I was with Tanner.”
He shrugged. “Once I got out there, I saw Blake running back toward the house. He didn’t see me—I hid from him in the trees—but I didn’t know where you’d gone, so I kept looking. It was raining, and I was about to give up, but then I remembered the abandoned house. I didn’t think you were there at first . . . and then I heard the screams.” He got up and started to pace. “The screams were coming from the basement, and I was about to go downstairs, but I saw a camera on the floor and picked it up.”
I hiccupped a sob that came out of nowhere. I’d suspected something like this, of course, but to hear the confirmation was almost too much. “My camera. The one I used to take photos of Blake.” Another sob broke loose. “I dropped it when I was trying to escape.”
Roy continued to pace. “I took it downstairs that night. I took photos.”
“Photos of what?”
“Everything.”
I felt faint. “Where’s the camera?” I finally choked out.
“It’s in Mom’s house.”
“Is that why you wanted the house?”
He nodded and then walked behind me.
I stood and spun around to face him. “Why didn’t you just get it? I’m sure you still have a key.”
“Because it’s not stuffed in some sock drawer, Magnolia,” he said, sounding pissed. “I was smart enough to hide it somewhere it wouldn’t get found.”
“Where?”
“It’s embedded in the fireplace in the basement.”
I blinked, certain I’d heard him wrong. “What?”
He shot me a glare. “Remember those bricks that kept falling out of the basement fireplace? Well, Momma had it fixed about six months after you took off.” He flung his arm wide. “You ran off and left me to deal with all of it.”
“I’m sorry about that too, but I blocked it out for ten years. I didn’t remember until I came home.”
“Well, lucky you,” he sneered.
“I was the one who had a giant C carved into her leg! I was the one who got a concussion.”
“And I was the one who had to live in that house knowing what had happened in those woods.”
“Why didn’t you tell the police, Roy?”
“Why didn’t you?” he shot back. “You were the one tied to a pole.”
I released a gasp and sat down in the chair, worried I was about to faint. “You really saw it,” I said, barely above a whisper.
“I admitted that I did.”
“I know, but . . .” I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to get a grip. “I woke up at the edge of the woods,” I said, my voice breaking. “The concussion knocked me out. I remember Melanie screaming up until the moment he killed her, and then everything was gone until I woke up next to our backyard. I have no idea how I got there.”
“The killer carried you there.”
My stomach roiled. “You saw it?”
“No. But he told me he would return you home. He told me to go home and wait there, but he said that if I told anyone, he’d kill you and dump you where no one would ever find you. And if I didn’t keep quiet even after you came home, he’d kill both you and Momma.”
I shot out of the chair, making it tip slightly. “You talked to him?”
“I was hiding on the stairs, behind the partial wall. He found me, but I hid the camera in my shorts pocket and he never saw it. The woman was dead and you were slumped against the pole. He knew who I was.”
“He knew who I was too, but his face was covered, and I didn’t recognize his voice. Do you know who it was?”
He shook his head. “No.” But he looked so terrified I wasn’t sure I believed him.
“Why did you keep the camera?”
“Insurance. In case I ever needed proof.” Roy started pacing again. “Is that all?”
“Daddy’s back,” I said, watching for his reaction. His blank expression told me that he already knew. “I saw him last night.”
“When you say you saw him, you mean in the shadows . . . ?”
“No, I mean we had a conversation.”
He closed his eyes for several seconds this time. “You did what?”
“He didn’t mean for me to see him. It just happened.”
“It just happened,” he sneered hatefully. “I’ve wanted to have a conversation with him for the last ten years, and nothing. Then you just happen to bump into him.” His face turned red and he pointed his finger at me. “That’s a crock of bullshit, Magnolia. It did not just happen.”
He was getting agitated, and now he was standing between me and my escape route—something else he had in common with our father.
“He just showed up and I . . .” I wasn’t about to tell him that I’d been at Colt’s apartment, which, by the way, had been paid for by our dear ole dad. “I’m sorry.”<
br />
He clenched his fists and shouted, “Quit saying you’re sorry!”
I took an involuntary step backward into the desk.
Roy advanced toward me. “What did he say?”
“He said a lot of things.”
“What in particular?”
“I asked him about leaving us.” My voice broke as I said, “I asked him why he did it.”
“And?”
“He did it because he’s a selfish bastard who loves money more than his family. I also asked him why he’s back.”
Roy laughed, but it sounded deranged. “I know why he’s back.”
“The annuity?” I asked.
He scowled.
“He’s killed at least three people, Roy. Probably more.”
“And they probably deserved it.”
I gasped. “How can you say that?”
“The world is full of stupid people who get what’s coming to them.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“No.” He stopped in front of me with crazed eyes. “I’m thinking more clearly than I have in a long time.”
Roy’s office door burst open, and Colt stood in the opening, his chest heaving. He looked like he’d climbed a dozen flights of stairs. “Get away from her, Roy,” Colt said breathlessly.
Roy laughed. “Or what?”
Colt strode toward him with murderous eyes. “Did you hurt her?”
I intercepted Colt and held him back. “I’m fine. He never touched me.”
“I think you have all the information you need now,” Colt said, starting to breathe easier. “Let’s go.”
Colt was right. I’d wanted to keep pressing him—something told me there wouldn’t be a second chance—but Roy was acting unstable. He was either about to kick me out or literally strangle me, so we were pretty much done anyway.
Colt cupped my elbow and led me to the door, never taking his eyes off Roy. Then he hurried me out of the office. When we reached the elevator bank, the elevator was already there, thank God, and a woman was getting out.
Colt punched the button for the lobby just as Roy slammed through the door to his firm’s reception area. The doors closed just in time.
We were both silent for several seconds before I said, “I take it you know what we’re doing next?”
“It’s time to rip apart a fireplace.”
Chapter 23
When we got to Colt’s truck, I realized my phone was still in my jeans pocket. I’d never ended my call with him, although I suspected he’d ended the connection himself.
I pulled it out anyway as Colt opened the passenger door for me, and one look at the screen erased any satisfaction I felt over what I’d learned from Roy.
You’ve been a bad girl.
“Maggie?” Colt’s voice was tight.
I held up my phone so he could read the text from the blocked number.
“Shit.” He leaned closer. “It came through five minutes ago. Was he talking about seeing Roy?”
“Could be. Or it could be what I told Detective Martinez. Or seeing Daddy. Or talking to Owen. It could be all of the above.” I stared at the words on the screen, trying to figure out which one he meant, but then I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself. The serial killer had threatened Belinda specifically in the past. She needed to know she was in danger.
She answered on the first ring. “Magnolia,” she said, her voice sounding far away. “I’m surprised to hear from you.”
“Belinda, I just got a text from the serial killer, and he’s pissed. I’m worried he’ll come after you to get to me.”
“Oh!” She took a moment, then said, “I’m at the office right now, and I have clients back to back today. I also have a gun and pepper spray. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
I was still worried. “Try not to be alone, okay?”
“I won’t.” She sounded sad. “I’m grateful you still care.”
“You’re my sister-in-law. Of course I care. But we really have to talk later.” I paused, about to hang up, but I was tired of letting things lie. “I know about Delilah.”
She didn’t say anything for several seconds. “Colt told you.”
“And Daddy,” I fudged.
She paused again. “You talked to your father?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you okay?”
A defensive part of me wanted to give a sarcastic answer. I felt so betrayed by her, but I still loved her. I wanted to give her a chance to explain before I made a final decision. “It was rough, but I’m okay.”
“What did he say?”
I glanced at Colt, who was sending me a scowl. He obviously didn’t approve, but I didn’t care. I didn’t answer to him. But he wasn’t wrong. I couldn’t fully trust Belinda after everything that had passed between us. “I’ll tell you about it later.”
“I hate that we’re at odds, Magnolia. I miss you.”
“I miss you too. We just need to talk.”
“Thanks for not giving up on me.”
“How can I? Momma loved you too.”
I hung up, then immediately called Tilly.
“Tilly, where are you?” I asked as soon as she answered.
“I’m at the catering kitchen. Why? What’s wrong?”
“Are you alone?”
“We have that lunch today. We’re about to load the vans. In fact, Colt’s supposed to be here helping. Is he with you?” She sounded frazzled and at her wits’ end.
Oh crap. I covered the phone, then whispered to Colt, “You’re supposed to be helping Tilly with a lunch.”
The look he gave me—full of guilt but not surprise—told me that he’d known. He’d been willing to miss it for me.
“Tilly,” I said, “Colt had to drive me up to Nashville for an errand, but we’re on our way back. Sorry to keep him for so long.”
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“I’m fine, but I need you to be careful. Emily’s killer is still on the loose, and I can’t help but think he might hurt other people I love. If anything happened to you . . .” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Just stay with lots of people today, okay? Stick close to Colt once we get there.”
“I will, sweet girl. Just hurry up and get here so I can make sure you’re safe too.”
I hung up and turned to Colt. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were supposed to work for the Belles today?”
He shrugged. “I knew you’d take off and talk to Roy on your own. And I’m not sure why you told her I’d come in. We need to find that camera.”
“We set the alarm,” I reminded him. “The cameras you and your friend installed outside the doors will show us if anyone tries to get in.”
“I still think we should make that camera our top priority,” he said.
Part of me thought so too, but it had waited ten years. It could wait a few more hours. Besides, I needed a short reprieve.
“You didn’t have to come in there and save me,” I said with attitude. “I was doing just fine on my own.”
“I know, and I knew I risked pissing you off, but I don’t regret it. I would much rather have shown up before he hit you than after.”
“You don’t know that he was going to hit me.”
“I think we both know there was a very strong possibility. Your brother’s been unhinged lately. Even more so since your momma’s death.”
I gave him a grudging nod. “You’re right. Thanks.”
A sexy grin spread across his face. “I love hearing you say that.”
“Thanks?”
“Nope. That I’m right.”
I couldn’t help but smile, even though my guts were tumbling with anxiousness and fear.
We were quiet until we reached the interstate. Colt was the one who finally broke the silence, and I could tell he’d been stewing on the words for some time. “So, Roy saw everything happen that night . . .” He cast a glance at me. “How do you feel about that?”
“I haven’t really had a chance to proces
s it. Part of me is angry that he didn’t try to save me, but what could he have done? He was fourteen. He was a kid with no way to defend himself. He could have left me there, but he stayed.”
“Taking pictures,” Colt said in an ugly tone. “Sick fuck. I think he liked watching.”
My chest tightened and I forced out, “What?”
“Because he followed you out into the woods, hoping to watch you have sex. And because he kept the camera. Was it a digital camera?”
“Yeah. Why?”
Colt’s upper lip curled. “I bet he looked at those photos over and over.”
I gasped. “How can you say that?”
“Because Roy Steele is a sick fuck who likes abusing women. I saw the look in his eyes when he hurt you at that bar, Magnolia. He gets off on it. Maybe it all started when he saw the killer, but I guarantee you that he got off on looking at those photos.”
“You don’t know that. Besides, why would he let them brick the camera into the fireplace if he wanted to see them?”
“I bet part of him was horrified that he liked to look at them.” His expression had turned grim. “Bricking it up into a fireplace seems drastic, don’t you think? If he really kept it for insurance, he’d want to keep it closer, more accessible.”
“He was fourteen, probably fifteen by then. Most teenage boys aren’t known for thinking things through.”
Colt shook his head. “I still say it smells fishy. And if the camera’s really in the fireplace, why would he freak out about you getting the house? Why not let the camera stay there forever? You never would have found it on your own. And why hide the entire camera, anyway? Why not just bury the memory card?”
“I don’t know. Again, he was a teenage boy.”
He shook his head. “I’m not buying it. He’s worried about someone seeing what’s on it, but not because of the evidence on there. He’s worried about something else.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.”
I shuddered. I refused to seriously consider what Colt was saying, mostly because I worried there might be some truth to it. “But he tried to save me when I came back to town. He gave me money to leave.”
His mouth pressed into a thin line. “Maybe.”
“What does that mean?”
“There’s more to all of it. I can feel it.”
Curtain Call: Magnolia Steele Mystery #4 Page 22