To Love, Honor, and Perish

by Christy Barritt

  I stared back defiantly. “I don’t want to chase down anyone. I just want whoever shot Riley to pay.”

  “If Jones did somehow survive—and I’m not saying that he did—I’m worried that he might come after you again. For some reason, he’s fascinated by you.”

  “Who wouldn’t be? I’m pretty fabulous.” My joke fell flat, even to my own ears.

  “I’m serious, Gabby.” Parker sat upright now, all signs of being laid-back and relaxed gone.

  “What do you want me to do? Have plastic surgery, radically alter my appearance, get a new name, and move to a foreign country?”

  “No, I want you to do something a little simpler. I want you to be careful.”

  “I’m always careful. Being careful gets me nowhere—it leaves me with no answers and with a death threat anyway.” My thoughts were already turning. How could I find answers without trying to track down Jones and potentially walking into any traps he set for me?

  “The country’s best are going to be working on this.”

  I barely heard him. My thoughts continued to turn. What would be the best way to either track down Jones or figure out if he was working with someone else? An idea began brewing . . .

  “What are you thinking about, Gabby?”

  “I’m thinking about talking to someone.”

  “Who?”

  I remembered Parker’s caution about being careful. “I’ll tell you . . . if you come along for the ride.”

  CHAPTER 16

  I let Parker drive. He had a fancy sports car—a Viper. I couldn’t believe Charlie hadn’t convinced him to give it up. It would be really hard to get a baby seat in this sucker.

  I placed a quick phone call to Clarice, just to make sure she was okay with us stopping by. She said she was. I ran through the best approaches to ask her my burning questions as the urban miles rolled past.

  Parker stole a glance at me. “Did you say that you threatened to sue Riley’s parents?”

  I nodded, remembering and replaying the entire conversation I’d had with them in my head. Heaviness pressed down on me again. “They’re talking about making some decisions about Riley that I don’t agree with.”

  “Like pulling the plug?”

  “No, not pulling the plug. We’re not there. Thank goodness. But it’s other stuff. Some serious decisions that could affect Riley’s recovery. I told them I’d take them to court if I had to.”

  “And Riley’s mom had a heart attack afterward?”

  I nodded, my heart squeezing with guilt. I rubbed my forehead, trying to relieve some of the pressure there. “I’m sure I didn’t help that situation.”

  “You were just fighting to keep the man you love alive. There’s nothing to be ashamed of there. I’d like to think Charlie would do the same for me.” He glanced over at me as streetlights illuminated the car’s interior for just a moment. “Why would you think Riley is cheating on you? He doesn’t seem like the type.”

  “Isn’t every man the type?” As soon as I said the words, I clamped my mouth shut. I’d been burned one too many times in the past. I thought I’d moved forward, but maybe not. Maybe all of that old baggage would always be there. “I don’t mean that. It’s just the stress talking.”

  “That sounds like the old Gabby, the one I used to know.”

  “I’m trying to put the old Gabby behind me.” I thought I’d done a good job. I thought I’d changed. Maybe change wasn’t possible.

  “The old Gabby was kind of fun too, you know.” He raised his eyebrows playfully.

  What exactly was he saying? I assumed I didn’t want to know, and left it at that.

  Besides, the basics about me were still the same. I was still spunky and sarcastic. I was still headstrong and determined and stubborn. But I’d like to think I’d matured. I’d like to think I’d learned to treat people better, to think before acting, to reflect before speaking. At least, I was doing better until Riley had been shot.

  I wasn’t going to get into all of that with Parker now. Instead, I filled him in on the note I found from Juliette to Riley. Talking with my ex about my fiancé who was in a coma wasn’t ideal. But I was doing it anyway.

  Parker threw a glance my way. “There could be an explanation for that note, Gabby. Don’t get tunnel vision.”

  “Tunnel vision? Is that what you think I have? Not only about the investigation, but about Riley?”

  “Detectives get it all the time. They draw a conclusion and they’re so set on their solution being the correct one, that they miss other clues around them. The biases in our lives are strong. They can lead us astray. Keep that in mind. Not just with the cases you work on, but with life in general. Assumptions can be brutal.”

  “Those might be the wisest words I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”

  He shrugged. “The FBI usually doesn’t take dummies.”

  I started to joke, but Parker beat me to the punch line.

  “Usually.” He grinned.

  Any playfulness disappeared. “I really don’t understand why this is all happening, Parker.” My ex wasn’t exactly the one I wanted to discuss life’s problems with. Not by a long shot. But he was here, and the questions were on my mind. “Things seemed to be going so well. Now all of this . . .”

  “You’re a strong woman, Gabby. You’re going to get through this. It might be hard at times. Really hard. But you’ll be stronger at the end. You always have been.”

  Was that admiration in his voice? I couldn’t be certain, but there was a distinct possibility. Finally, I nodded. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. Sometimes I don’t care about being stronger, though. Sometimes, I think I’d be perfectly content to skip all of the bad stuff and settle for staying right where I am.”

  “Wouldn’t we all? Unfortunately, that’s not life. We can conquer it or we can let it conquer us.”

  “When’d you get so smart?”

  He rubbed his chin. “I like to think I’m pretty brilliant all the time.”

  There was no doubt about that in my mind.

  He pulled to a stop in front of the address I’d rattled off to him. “This it?”

  I stared at the apartment building in front of me. It was nothing extraordinary, just a square, boxy complex finished in red brick. I’d actually expected something a little more refined for my prissy friend.

  The address was close to one of the local universities where Clarice had been a student. She was taking some time off, but she’d already signed this lease with two roommates, so she was still living here until they could find someone else. “Sure is. Let’s get this done.”

  We walked through the soggy evening. Puddles dotted the landscape, the air felt murky, and even the nighttime hadn’t cooled the atmosphere.

  I walked up the stairs to Apartment 231 and pounded on the door. A moment later, Clarice answered.

  Her normal perkiness was gone. In fact, she looked downright tense. That fact made me feel bad about being here.

  I’d seen her at the crime scene . . . had that just been yesterday? She’d seemed like herself. But I had a feeling Clarice was the master of covering up how she was really feeling. She’d admitted to me not long ago that she often acted like an airhead, just because that’s how people had come to think of her. People put on fronts all the time just to be accepted or to convey an image.

  “Clarice, you remember Parker? He’s with the FBI.”

  She nodded and pushed a hair behind her ear. “I think. It’s kind of all blurry.”

  “Thanks for letting us come,” Parker said.

  He sounded so polite. Maybe he had matured. Having a baby could do that. So could getting a job with the FBI.

  She waved behind her. “Have a seat.”

  I looked around and saw boxes. “Moving?”

  She nodded. “I’m moving in with Auntie Sharon. I’m just going to keep paying the rent here until they find someone else. I can’t keep living here, though.”

  “Your roommates gone tonight?” Pa
rker asked.

  “Yeah, they all went out to a party.” She drew her lips into a line. I could see the trepidation in her eyes. “I’m just not into that kind of thing right now. I’d rather stay home.”

  Post traumatic stress. That’s what I’d bet she had. The poor girl had been through a lot. I still felt partially responsible. If Clarice hadn’t been working for me, she would have never been targeted by Jones.

  “You sure you’re okay with crime scene cleaning, especially after everything that happened?” I asked, worry about my new friend setting in.

  She nodded. “Yeah, I actually think it helps me feel like I’m doing something to make the world a little better. Strange, huh?”

  I shook my head. “Not at all.”

  “This might sound crazy, but I’m thinking about changing my major to criminal justice.”

  “I could totally see you doing that, Clarice. I think it’s worth looking into.” A strange satisfaction filled me. I wasn’t happy about what had happened to Clarice, but I was happy that she was making some good changes in her life. The road wasn’t going to be an easy one, but she’d be stronger in the end.

  Kind of like what Parker had just told me. It was easier for me to believe it about other people than to let that truth saturate my own life, though.

  “If you ever need any pointers about your schooling, let me know,” Parker offered. “My degree was in criminal justice.”

  Something about his offer left something unsettled in my mind. I knew Parker, and I knew how he operated. I didn’t want to see him turning to a pretty girl like Clarice just because he was suddenly feeling lonely at home. I was probably reading too much into this but, just in case, I’d keep my eye on the two of them.

  Parker and I sat on the couch, while Clarice lowered herself into a wicker chair across from us. Even though the apartment wasn’t all that cool, she wore a sweatshirt and had the sleeves pulled over her hands.

  “Can I get you a drink?” Clarice asked.

  Both Parker and I shook our heads no.

  Clarice swallowed hard and nodded. “So, what’s going on?”

  “I have a couple of questions for you,” I started. “I don’t want to upset you, and I know you’ve already told a million-and-one people the details of what happened to you after Milton Jones abducted you.”

  “I keep thinking it was all a nightmare, then I remember that it was real.” She nibbled on her bottom lip, a far off look in her eyes.

  “Have you gotten any help for it?” Parker asked. “There are resources we can provide for you. Therapy. Counseling—”

  Clarice nodded. “I’m seeing a counselor. She told me it’s going to take a long time. I shouldn’t put pressure on myself to heal too quickly. That fear is normal.”

  Parker nodded. “She’s right. You should listen to her.”

  Whew. I’d thought for a minute that Parker was going to offer her his shoulder to cry on. Maybe Parker really was a family man now instead of a cheating, no good, arrogant player.

  Clarice stared at us. “So what do you want to know about Jones? Is everything okay?”

  I had to choose my words carefully. I glanced at Parker, and he gave me a nod of affirmation. He knew me well enough to know I’d use every ounce of decorum within me in this situation.

  I leaned forward and softened my voice. “Clarice, we’re curious as to whether or not Jones said anything during his time you were abducted about working with someone else.”

  “You mean, other than that awful woman? She made us call her ‘The Godmother.’ Can you believe it?”

  Jones had an accomplice who’d helped him on his last terror spree. She was now behind bars, though. “She was awful. But was there anyone other than her that Jones mentioned during your time around him?”

  Clarice sighed, her breath ruffling the stray hairs around her face. “I don’t know. It’s so hard to say.”

  Parker rested an elbow on his knee. “Think about any conversations you might have overheard. Was Jones on the phone with anyone? Did he mention anyone else by name?”

  Clarice shivered. “He was just evil. How can a person do those things to another person? I still don’t understand it.”

  “That’s the age old question that’s been asked throughout time. Man’s capacity for evil is . . . well, it’s devastating.” Not only when it came to serial killers, but there were entire villages in other countries that had been massacred. There’d been wars where brutality was king. Mother Nature herself could be a cruel enchantress.

  “Think carefully, Clarice. It’s important,” Parker urged.

  “You don’t think . . .?” Her eyes widened.

  “We just want to make sure there’s nothing we missed,” I told her.

  “You don’t think he’ll send someone else? That one of his underlings will finish his dirty work. Do you?”

  I could see the alarm beginning to spread in her. I could hear it in the rise of her voice, in the pace of her words. “It’s not like that.”

  “If you’re in any danger, the police will let you know,” Parker jumped in. “I’m here right now in an unofficial capacity. We just want to make sure this is truly over.”

  “You think Jones or someone working for him shot Riley, don’t you?” Clarice looked at me, her eyes as wide as those proverbial saucers. “You think this is all related.”

  “Don’t read too much into this. We just need to be thorough. Is there anything you can think of?” Thankfully, Parker answered her question. I didn’t think I could.

  With her sleeves still pulled over her hands, she covered her mouth and stared down at the floor a minute. I didn’t think she would answer. I wasn’t sure she even had an answer or anything to share. Her eyes were jerky, as if replaying moments in her mind. Finally, she looked up and shook her head. “I can’t think of anything. I just remember that every time I heard that front door squeak open, I felt so scared that I thought I would throw up or pass out. My entire body would start trembling.”

  “What would he do when he came inside?” I asked, trying to keep her thoughts focused on the facts.

  “Usually, he’d mumble to The Godmother. They’d talk, like what was happening was nothing unusual. Sometimes they’d laugh over little things. I heard them talking about eating ice cream one day. It was so mundane, like our lives weren’t on the line. Like everything was normal. But nothing was normal.”

  “They talked about ice cream, huh? Anything else mundane you heard them chatting about?” I prodded.

  “I don’t know.” She looked in the distance and sighed again. “They did talk about some money.”

  Parker perked up. “What about money?”

  “He was able to get his hands on some somehow. It was all confusing. I wish I could have made out more of the conversation.”

  “What happened to that money?” I asked Parker.

  He shook his head. “I have no idea.”

  “If you were a serial killer, what would you do with it?” I asked him.

  He thought for a moment before answering. “I’d get it in all cash. Then I’d hide it somewhere so I could go back for some dough when I needed it.”

  “Does what I said help at all?” Clarice asked.

  I nodded. “It does. I know this wasn’t easy to talk about, Clarice. Thank you.”

  “Whatever I can do to help.”

  “If you think of anything else, let me know, okay?” Parker said. “Or if you ever have questions about that degree . . .”

  ***

  I turned to Parker as soon as we stepped outside. “Please tell me you’re not hitting on Clarice.”

  His eyes widened, and he stepped back. “What are you talking about?”

  “I saw the way you were offering her all of that help. I know you, Parker. I know how you operate.” I didn’t bother to hide the accusation in my voice.

  He raised his hands. “Look, Gabby. I think you’re a little emotionally charged right now. You’ve had a lot going on. I’m with Char
lie. We have a baby. I’m not looking for a fling on the side. If I was, it wouldn’t be with someone who’s practically illegal.”

  I stared at him another moment, trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. Finally, I nodded. “I’m serious, Parker. Stay away from her. She’s been through enough without adding you to her list of catastrophes.”

  He flinched. “Ouch. Was it that bad when we dated?”

  I didn’t say anything, just tilted my head farther.

  He rolled his eyes and started walking to his car. “I get your point. Now, let’s talk about something useful.”

  “Fine. What do you think about what Clarice told us?”

  He jangled his keys in thought. “I was hoping for more. Ice cream and a vague mention of some money don’t really do much for us.”

  “Has anyone talked to ‘The Godmother’?” I made air quotes. The woman was in jail now, awaiting her trial date.

  “She’s refusing to talk to anyone. No one is getting anything out of her. She’s pretty loony.”

  I sighed and leaned back. “So what now?”

  He paused in front of his car. “Now, you keep yourself safe and let the police investigate.”

  “How long are they going to be able to keep Juliette’s disappearance quiet? Certainly, the media’s going to find out. How can they not?”

  “Because right now it seems like a simple investigation of a missing person. They haven’t let it leak that a photo was found at the crime scene that seems to link Juliette with Jones. If that got out, people would be in a panic again. We don’t want that. Besides, they’re still locating Juliette’s family. They have to be informed first.”

  “If Milton Jones is still out there, people should be in a panic.”

  “Gabby, you can’t let this slip. The only reason I brought it to you is because you’re a friend, I knew I could trust you, and I knew you had a stake in this.”

  I sighed.

  I climbed in his car, and we took off down the road. I didn’t really know what to think or say. Instead, I distracted myself by glancing down at my cellphone. I saw my missed calls. There was another one from Teddi, two from my dad, and several from Pastor Shaggy.