Curtain Call: Magnolia Steele Mystery #4

by Denise Grover Swank

She motioned toward two chairs. “Do you want to have a seat?”

  “Sure.” I sat while she pulled down the shades on the display windows.

  “If I don’t do this, we’ll have people trying to come in,” she said as she locked the front door and flipped the sign to say Closed.

  But it also meant I couldn’t see Colt, which made me anxious. Part of me wished I’d had him stay inside. Then I chided myself for acting like a helpless female. I had my gun in my purse and my pepper spray. And Colt was about thirty feet away.

  After Belinda sat down, she watched me quietly, waiting.

  I was the one who’d called this meeting, but I wasn’t sure where to start. I decided to jump in with the thing that bothered me the most. “Why did you tell me you were an only child?”

  Her face contorted with embarrassment. “Delilah disowned me. It’s humiliating to tell people that I have a sister who refuses to speak to me.” She pushed out a frustrated sigh. “It’s all about appearances in the South. You know that.”

  Unfortunately, she was right. “But I’m not most people, Belinda. I’m your sister-in-law. I wasn’t going to judge you. Look at the relationship I have with Roy, and I still claim him.” I shook my head, overcome with profound sadness. “Hell, I forgave you after you held me at gunpoint. I would hope that you’d think better of me.”

  She glanced down at her lap and picked at the cuticle on her thumb. I noticed it was raw. I couldn’t forget that Belinda was facing her own demons just like I was facing mine. I’d run away for ten years. Expecting her to jump ship from my brother at the snap of my fingers was unfair and unrealistic.

  “Even though I’m disappointed, I forgive you. I love you, Belinda. I need you, and I only want what’s best for you. I just don’t want any more secrets between us.”

  She still kept her gaze on her hands in her lap. “Thank you, Magnolia. That’s so much more than I deserve.”

  I leaned forward, and my stomach tightened. I wasn’t sure how she’d react to this next part. “There’s something you need to know about Roy,” I said. “He had the camera I lost the night of my graduation party.”

  She shook her head, and her gaze lifted to meet mine. “No. How would Roy have that?”

  I held her eyes for a moment to make sure I had her full attention. “He followed me out to the house that night. He found my camera and took photos of me and Melanie Seaborn in that basement. Then he bricked it up in Momma’s basement fireplace.”

  She shook her head, her eyes wide with horror. “No. That would mean he was there. That he saw it.”

  I understood her reaction. I’d gone through the same emotions hours before. “He’s sick, Belinda,” I said softly. I got out of my chair and knelt in front of her, taking her hands in mine. “I’m scared for you, and the camera backs up my concerns. You need to leave him. Come live with me. We’ll figure it out together.”

  Tears swam in her eyes, and her cheeks turned bright pink. “But you’re leaving town.”

  Seeing her like this made me reconsider the trip to Cancun, but Colt was right. I needed to get away, if only to try to soothe my wounded soul. Besides, while I could be Belinda’s support, she needed to make this decision on her own. “Only until the end of next week, and you can stay in the house until I get back. Or you can stay with Tilly. She’s the one who encouraged us to go. She’d love to have you stay with her until we get back.”

  I didn’t tell her that Tilly and I had discussed this very thing when I’d called to tell her we were leaving tonight. Though neither Tilly nor I had felt confident I’d get through to Belinda, Tilly was on standby, just in case.

  She didn’t say anything, so I said, “Please just think about it.”

  “Why are you still being so nice to me?” she asked, her voice breaking. “After all the lies and deceptions.”

  “Because I think you’re a good person deep down and that you genuinely care about me and Momma. I’ll never forget how loving and accepting you were when I came back home. And the way you stood up for me at that Bunco meeting . . .”

  A grin tugged at the corners of her lips in spite of the tears now streaming down her cheeks. “I may have made a few enemies that night.”

  “I doubt it. You’re too sweet. Everyone loves you. Including me.” I squeezed her hands tighter. “I’ve done some terrible things too, Belinda, and you haven’t turned away from me.”

  She leaned forward and pulled me into a hug. When she released me, she sat back and said nothing. Disappointment coursed through me. I was happy we’d made up, but nothing had really changed. She still hadn’t said she was leaving Roy.

  I stood and moved to the window in the front door, peering out so I could see Colt. He was sitting on the bench, tapping his foot anxiously. I waved and he gave me an expectant look, pointing his thumb toward where he’d parked his truck. I shook my head.

  “So Colt, huh?” she asked, but there was no judgment in her voice. “Are you sure? I’m still worried you’ll get hurt.”

  I shrugged and turned back to face her, understanding why she felt that way. “Colt and I get each other. He’s different with me.” I paused. “Is it hard for you since he was with your sister?”

  “No,” she said wistfully. “That seems like a lifetime ago.”

  My phone vibrated, and I wasn’t surprised to see a text from Colt. Everything okay in there?

  I smiled as I texted, I’m almost done.

  “He’s still worried about you?” she asked in surprise.

  “We looked at the photos together, and they were pretty graphic. It shook him up pretty badly.”

  Her face paled.

  “He’ll hardly let me out of his sight,” I said. “They may have caught the serial killer, but my father’s still on the loose.”

  She nodded, but didn’t say anything.

  “Say,” I said, “Colt and I are driving to Atlanta after I leave you. Do you mind if I use your restroom?”

  “No. Of course not.” She stood. “I’ll walk back there with you. I need to see if my new assistant put the ring bearer pillows for the wedding I’m working on next weekend in the storage area. I can’t find them anywhere, and the bride will throw a justifiable fit if we’ve lost them.”

  I left my purse by my chair, and we walked down the hall together. The restroom was past Belinda’s office and a changing room. I opened the door and Belinda continued down the hall to the large storage room in the back of the store.

  After I came out, I headed into the back room to find her and say goodbye, but she didn’t answer when I called her name.

  “Belinda?” I called out again, then saw the back door had been left ajar. I peered out the crack and saw her splayed on the ground outside. “Belinda!”

  I hurried out and bent over her, relieved when I felt the pulse in her neck. She had a trickle of blood on her head. Someone had knocked her out. I reached for my phone in my jeans pocket to call Colt as I swung around to look for the perpetrator, but I found myself face to face with someone in a gray hoodie, the hood tugged down over his face. He lunged for me with a cloth in his hand.

  Screaming, I scrambled to get away, but I was squatting next to Belinda. The man dove on top of me before I could rise to standing.

  “Magnolia!” Colt shouted, but he sounded far away. He was on the other side of the building, and he’d never get to us in time. Belinda had locked the front door.

  “Colt!” I screamed, elbowing the man behind me. He grabbed my chin, trying to put the cloth over my face, but I knew I was as good as dead if he did.

  I rolled onto my back, reaching for his face with my hands, and sunk my nails into flesh. He shouted and used one arm to push my hands away, but the other clamped the cloth over my mouth and nose.

  “Magnolia!” Colt shouted, sounding closer, but then his voice faded as my vision turned to darkness.

  Chapter 29

  The first thing I felt was the sting in my arms. Something cut into my wrists, and my shoulders were strain
ed as my arms were pulled over my head. My toes pressed against something hard and cold.

  Still deep in a dark sleep, I released a soft sound of protest and tried to reposition my arms, but I couldn’t move.

  It was then that I realized I was cold. Damp air clung to my bare skin.

  Bare skin?

  Where was I? But I knew before I got my eyes cracked open.

  I was in the basement from hell, hanging from the same rafters where Melanie Seaborn had been tortured and killed all those years ago.

  Terror flooded my head, and the darkness threatened to return. I wasn’t sure whether to welcome it or fight it. If I was plunged into darkness, I wouldn’t have to experience my last hours of hell on earth. But then I couldn’t fight to survive either. I had no idea how I could escape with my life, but I knew I had to try.

  “There she is,” a deep voice said. “There’s my sweet Magnolia.”

  A tall figure stood in the shadows, but my eyesight was still too blurry for me to make out his features.

  “You know me?” I asked. My mouth was dry, and the words sounded funny. My head was still fuzzy, and my thoughts uncoordinated. Of course he knew me.

  “Have you forgotten our reintroduction already?”

  I recognized the voice, and I nearly gasped from shock.

  He stepped out of the darker shadows and moved closer. He still wore a hooded sweatshirt, but he unzipped it, tugging back the hood as the sides parted to reveal a light gray T-shirt.

  Tripp Tucker stood in front of me, wearing an eager smile.

  “Why are you doing this, Tripp?”

  “Magnolia, I know you’ll probably find this hard to believe, but it’s nothing personal against you.”

  I glanced down at my mostly naked body, bare except for my bra and panties, then back up at him, relieved that my head was clearing. “This feels pretty personal.”

  “It will probably get personal soon enough,” he said, giving an almost careless shrug. “When Brian shows up.”

  “Daddy?” If he was my hope of salvation, my chances of survival were about 50-50. He’d already proven once that he was willing to choose money over me, and besides, I’d tattled about his crimes to anyone who’d listen. Maybe someone else would find me. Colt knew I’d been snatched, although he would have no way of knowing where we’d gone. And I’d been so busy trying to evade Brady and Owen, I hadn’t brought either one of them to this house.

  I was screwed.

  Tripp moved closer, and it was then I noticed the shiny four-inch blade in his hand. “Aren’t you curious about why you’re here?”

  The sight of the knife ratcheted my terror up multiple levels, and I couldn’t stop the tears from filling my eyes. Only the balls of my feet touched the floor, which didn’t give me much purchase as I scrambled to back away from him. “Please don’t do this, Tripp,” I begged.

  A grin twisted his lips and glee filled his eyes.

  I was close to breaking down and sobbing, but that was exactly what he wanted. He’d loved torturing Melanie. He’d loved torturing me ten years ago.

  As if reading my thoughts, his eyes dropped to my thigh and his grin spread even wider. He reached for my scar with his left hand, his thumb tracing the indentation. “You’ve been a bad girl, Magnolia. This was to remind you to keep your mouth shut about what happened to Melanie.”

  He took a step closer and moved the knife toward my other leg. The tip dug into my skin, and I fought to keep from crying as he carved a new C. Fear exploded inside me, pushing me close to hysteria.

  “You were so, so good when you went away, Magnolia. But then you came back, and you started spending time with that cop. And you forgot.”

  “No,” I said. “He only figured out the connection because you killed Emily.”

  “And how did he figure it out, Magnolia?” Tripp asked. When I didn’t answer, he leaned his face close to mine, his hot breath billowing in my face. “You slept with him. You were careless.” He took a step back and his blade sliced a line into my skin to mirror the scar on my right leg. “When you’re careless, I’m careless.”

  Despite my determination to stay silent, I cried out in pain and tears started to track down my cheeks. Warm blood slid down my leg.

  Tripp backed up several feet, his gaze dropping to the fresh cuts in my leg, and a satisfied look filled his eyes. “I was sad when you left, but I knew that if I was patient you would come back. When it was time.”

  “You want my dad?” I asked, trying not to sound so desperate. “Cut me loose, and I’ll help you find him.”

  “We don’t need to find him. He’ll be coming to us.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked. Was it wrong to hope that he would? “He’s not very reliable.”

  “Let’s hope he’s more reliable than usual tonight, or I might get bored.” He lifted his blade and ran his thumb along the edge. Blood beaded on his skin.

  “You killed Tiffany,” I said. “You convinced me that you didn’t.”

  “I convinced the police too.”

  “But you said you loved her.”

  “And I did until she screwed me over by screwing your father. I trusted him with everything—my money, my girl . . . my love. He was like a father to me, and he threw every last bit of it away. I vowed that I would make him pay.”

  His words confirmed what I had already guessed. Tripp didn’t plan for me to get out of here alive. He knew how much my father had doted on me. Killing me was only one part of making him pay. I needed to keep him talking until my father showed up so he didn’t get bored.

  “There was a murder before Tiffany,” I said.

  “That was an accident.”

  “An accident?”

  He shrugged. “She pissed me off. I got bored.”

  “And the others? Besides Emily, every single one of them had a connection to one of the partners. You sent a magnolia to Steve Morrissey and a text to Walter Frey to make sure they didn’t miss the message.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “Ava Milton’s been loose with information.” His voice lowered. “What have you been sharing with her?”

  “Nothing about your murders.”

  “My murders? They aren’t my murders. I didn’t want to do them.”

  He was a liar. The gleam in his eyes told me he’d loved every minute of it, but I wasn’t about to call him on it. He might decide to give me a demonstration.

  “If you didn’t want to murder those women, then why did you?”

  His jaw set with determination, and his eyes darkened with anger. “A message needed to be sent to Bill James and your father. I had to make sure I didn’t get screwed out of my payoff. I’d agreed to drop the lawsuit for a portion of the twenty-million-dollar annuity, but I could see they were trying to cut me out. I wanted Brian Steele and his partner to live in fear that, if they didn’t come through, I was coming for him and everything he holds dear.”

  His message might have worked with the partners, but it hadn’t worked with my father. Unless my father had lied to me—which was possible—he hadn’t even picked up on the murders. But I didn’t plan on telling Tripp that.

  Tripp frowned. “Brian Steele needs to start taking me more seriously.” He pulled out his phone and swiped the screen. The phone rang on Tripp’s speaker phone, and a man answered, his voice sounding strained. “I’m on my way.”

  “I thought you’d be more careful about the safety of your one true treasure, Brian,” Tripp said, but he kept his focus on me.

  There was a pause. “Magnolia?”

  “Say hi to your daddy, Magnolia,” Tripp said. His mouth turned up into a predatory smile, and he clenched and unclenched the knife in his hand, his bent fingers moving rhythmically. Oh yes, he was loving every minute of this.

  Fear surged inside me as he stepped toward me like that, caressing his knife, but I told myself that he wouldn’t actually stab me. None of the women had died from stab wounds. They had all suffered multiple slashes.

  That didn’t make
me feel any better.

  I gritted my teeth and tried my hardest not to cry, but my body shook with silent sobs. The cuts on my thigh throbbed, and I felt blood trickle down my leg to my foot.

  Tripp’s glee turned to irritation as he stopped in front of me, the phone in his left hand and the knife in his right. The name on the screen said Dead Man Walking.

  My breath caught. Daddy wouldn’t be able to save me from this. My only hope was Colt, and he had no idea where to find me.

  The blade slashed across my abdomen, and only then did I realize he was retaliating because I hadn’t followed his orders.

  I screamed in pain, and the image of Melanie popped into my head. How many slashes had he made on her body? Countless.

  “Magnolia?” my father shouted.

  I closed my jaw, holding back my sobs. The pain was so intense my peripheral vision clouded.

  “Tell your daddy that it’s you, Magnolia,” Tripp said in a cajoling voice.

  Part of me wanted to refuse him. I didn’t want to cooperate with him, but the punishment for defying him would be more slashes. No, I’d save my defiance for later.

  “Daddy,” I choked out, irritated with myself for calling him that. My stomach was on fire with pain.

  “Oh God. Magnolia?”

  “Remember Tiffany?” Tripp asked. “Magnolia will look five times worse.”

  “I’m coming,” my father said, sounding frantic. “I’m on my way. It was hard to get the—”

  “Save your excuses for someone who gives a shit, Dad.” He spat the word out as if it were poison. Then his face morphed into a smile, and he said lightheartedly, “Let’s play a game.”

  My hair stood on end. Any game Tripp created would be a horror show.

  My father wasted no time before answering. “I have the money. I’m coming, Tripp. I swear.”

  “But not fast enough.”

  He growled out, “If you hurt her—”

  My father’s words were cut off by my scream as Tripp slashed my right thigh below my scar.

  “Too late, Dad,” Tripp shouted over my cries. “Your precious Magnolia is already hurt. Did you know I hurt her ten years ago? I gave her my mark, the one you created for me. I claimed her as mine, and tonight I’m going to make it come true.”