“I don’t need to sit down. I’m really fine.”
“Tomorrow she probably won’t even remember your being there, so don’t be surprised. She was pretty heavily sedated.”
You’re wrong. This nightmare will be part of Liz for the rest of her life.
“There you are.” Jake stepped forward to meet her. He slipped an arm around her shoulders. “We wondered where you were.”
“Did you see Liz?” Kyle sounded hopeful. “It looked like you came out of that room—did they let you see her?”
They were all staring at her now. Jake’s arm tightened.
“Did she talk to you?” he asked casually.
“Of course Liz couldn’t talk to her.” Brandon gave Jake an impatient look. “They put her out—she couldn’t talk even if she wanted to.”
Jake was watching her closely. After a long moment he shrugged. “I just wondered, is all. Come on. Let’s go home.”
She felt stiff and unnatural as he pushed her out to the car. Her knees didn’t want to bend. Everyone was staring at her so strangely.
“Where we eating?” Brandon spoke up as they prepared to split up in the parking lot.
“I think we better skip it,” Jake said, and Darcy again felt his hold tighten around her.
“Come on—all this excitement, I need to eat.” Brandon tried to joke, but nobody laughed.
“We’re forgetting what a shock Darcy had,” Jake reminded them. “She’s the one who found Liz, after all. I think I’d better just get her home.”
Darcy glanced wildly at Kyle and Brandon. Elliott stood a little apart, working his hands down into his pockets, saying nothing.
“Well, sure.” Kyle shrugged, looking embarrassed. “I mean … I’m really sorry … we just weren’t thinking—”
“She still needs to eat,” Brandon argued. “Let us take her, and we’ll bring her right home.”
“I’d just feel better if she was home with me.” Jake pulled her suffocatingly close. “After what happened tonight.” He looked away. “I’d just feel better.”
“Are the cops through at your place?” Brandon asked, but it was Elliott who nodded.
“They looked everything over. But it didn’t happen there. It happened outside.”
“Well, I know that’s what Liz told them, but they should still search your whole place, shouldn’t they?” Brandon said. “She probably wasn’t thinking too straight—”
“Give me a break, Brandon, they searched, okay? What do you think—the killer’s going to hang around and try for two in the same night?”
“Whoa—” Brandon held up his hands and stepped back. “I’m just hungry, man, not interested in a fight.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not interested in your girlfriend, either. She nearly got killed tonight, and all you can think about is food.” He yanked open the car door and practically pushed Darcy inside. As she huddled on the passenger side, she saw Brandon clench his fists and step forward.
“How do you know what I’m thinking?” His voice raised. “How do you know what I feel? Huh?”
She saw Kyle run up and grab his arm even as Brandon shook him off. “Come on, Brandon,” Kyle pleaded, “come on—forget it.”
“Have you ever felt anything for anybody?” Brandon yelled.
Jake got in and slammed the door. Darcy turned and tried to peer out the window as the car spun away, tried to make them see her and understand, even though she couldn’t shout back into the street—Please don’t leave me alone with him, please realize what’s happening—
“Sit down, Darcy,” Jake snapped. “Put your seatbelt on.”
It was just another trap, and as she hooked the harness around herself, Darcy felt like a cornered animal. She started chewing on her fingernail, afraid that if she didn’t, she might start screaming. Beside her Jake was like a spring ready to explode.
Tonight I choose Darcy.
She closed her eyes, feeling the car flying down the street, taking corners too fast, squealing through intersections, bouncing over curbs. Tonight I choose Darcy … Darcy.… The car skidded sideways, throwing her into the door. She tasted blood and saw that she’d bitten down on her finger. He knows me … he knows my name … and I can’t tell anyone or Liz will die.…
And then another thought struck her, and she stiffened slowly, a knot twisting her stomach.
Could it be possible—fantastically possible—that Liz was still trying to scare her? That even now Liz could still be jealous and possessive enough to want to get back at her? And that maybe Liz’s attack had been only random and coincidental, and she’d given Darcy the twisted message only to terrify her? Could Liz really be that vindictive?
“Stop the car,” Darcy mumbled.
“What?”
“Stop the car. I’m going to be sick.”
Jake slammed on the brake and reached across her, shoving open the door. As Darcy stumbled out she managed to make it to the curb and gag a few times before she realized there was nothing in her stomach to come up. And then, without planning to—she began to run. She didn’t hear Jake shouting or the horn honking—she didn’t hear anything until he tackled her, and they went sprawling down onto the sidewalk, and Jake clamped his hand over her mouth, trying to muffle her screams.
“What’s the matter with you? Are you crazy?”
He sounded so angry now, and Darcy felt him shaking her, saw him glancing nervously around the deserted street.
“You picked one hell of a place to go nuts on me, you know that? This is probably the worst part of town! And shut up, will you? Get back in the car—”
“No! I want to stay here!”
“Oh, fine. That’s just great!” Jake threw up his hands and looked totally disgusted. “It’s a perfect night for staying out, with some maniac running loose. Or wait—I have a better idea. Let’s just invite him to join us—that’ll save him the trouble of finding you.”
“Finding me?” Darcy stared at him. “You said save him the trouble of finding me—”
“Well, why would I say finding us?” Jake broke in. “The guy isn’t interested in men, or haven’t you noticed?”
“I don’t want to go—” Darcy broke off before she could add “home with you.”
“Well, you have to go,” Jake grumbled, hauling her to her feet. “I’m responsible for you, so I’m taking you home. What’s the big deal anyway?”
“The big deal? Liz is practically dead, that’s a pretty big—”
“Look—what happend tonight was bad, okay? But it could have happened to any girl out there alone after dark. Liz just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“I don’t believe that! I don’t believe it was an accident!”
Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Why not, Darcy?” he asked quietly. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
She felt panic rising inside of her and tried to change the subject. “How did he get her inside? There were people around all day.”
“The cops think maybe through a basement window—there’s one at the side of the building, and you can’t see it from the street. There’s a storeroom down there I never use anymore. He busted the lock and came upstairs. Nobody would have noticed anything ’cause that new section where he put her is closed off.”
“Then … why did he use the Dungeon?”
“How the hell should I know! Do I look like a criminologist?” He began to pace angrily back and forth. “The cops think he might have wanted to do something like this for a while. The Dungeon’s well-known around here; they think it probably appealed to his sense of the macabre. Once Liz was unconscious, he dumped her in the grave and was probably going to finish her off when he got interrupted—”
“How?”
“By customers—by you—by Elliott—by anything!” Jake grabbed her arm. “Come on, get back in the car.”
“I don’t want to go back there.”
“Look, any vampire with half a brain—and I might remind you that they’re very cunning—woul
dn’t lurk around where we all expect him to lurk.” Jake gave a long-suffering sigh. “Now. Come on. Get in the car.”
“What if I don’t?”
“What if I carry you?”
His tone convinced her he meant it. Miserably Darcy followed him back to the car and climbed in. When they finally reached home, she stood uncertainly in the middle of the living room while Jake carried sheets and pillows back and forth between his room and the attic.
“There.” He stood facing her, hands on hips, his expression grim. “You’ll feel safer down here, and I’ve got everything switched. Is there anything else I can do to make you more comfortable?”
His tone was so thick with sarcasm that Darcy grimaced.
“I’m fine. Thanks.”
“So delighted to hear it.” After a long searching look he turned on his heel and went upstairs, and Darcy went into the bedroom and shut the door.
She couldn’t sleep. Over and over Liz’s terrified face drifted into her mind … the thin band of blood around her throat … her frightened warning. I’ve got to tell someone.… I can’t just pretend nothing’s happened and wait to be killed. But what if it’s only a trick … another lie? Do I spend the rest of my summer being terrified of my own shadow …?
She slipped out of bed and pressed her ear to the door … opened it a crack … stepped out into the living room. From the attic she could hear the soft drone of Jake snoring. She curled up on the couch, put the phone in her lap, and dialed Brandon’s number. By the last ring she remembered he was probably still out eating, but he answered just as she was hanging up.
“Brandon? Oh, I’m so glad you’re home.” She was trying to whisper, holding her hand over the mouthpiece, glancing nervously toward the attic stairs.
“Darcy.” He sounded relieved. “Oh … hi … I thought maybe it was the hospital.”
“You did?” His reaction surprised her a little. “Why? Is Liz worse? Are you expecting a call?”
“No … I just …” He tried to laugh at himself. “Well, what I mean is, you never know. She could get worse. Or … the killer could try again.”
No, Brandon, you’re wrong, it’s not Liz he’ll be after this time, it’s me, only I can’t tell you, because the whole thing might really be true.…
“Darcy?”
“I’m sorry, what?” She snapped back with an effort, Liz’s face whirling through her brain.
“I said are you okay? What’s up?”
“Liz really loves you,” she said so unexpectedly that she stared at the phone in surprise.
“Not as much as Liz loves herself,” Brandon retorted. “Where did you get such a dumb idea?”
“She told me. At the hospital. She told me … how much she needs you.”
“Sure. She probably thinks she’s dying. People have all kinds of second thoughts when they’re dying.”
“Brandon … I’m not sure this was an act—”
“If you think I’m going to stop seeing you, you’re wrong.” His voice changed so suddenly, went so cold, that she frowned. “What else did Liz tell you?”
Darcy hesitated, her grip tightening around the phone. “Nothing, really.… Brandon, I’m just trying to be fair—”
“Fair has nothing to do with it. If I want to see you, I’ll see you.” His voice was hard now … stony … and after a moment’s silence he forced a laugh. “I can do what I want, Darcy. I don’t need Liz’s permission.”
Darcy didn’t know whether to feel upset or relieved. “Brandon—”
“Is that why you called? Because of Liz?” His tone changed again, softened now with concern and kindness. “Are you sure there’s not something else bothering you? What did you and Liz talk about in there?”
Darcy cast another look toward the stairs. “She just—” Biting her lip, she went on, “Jake’s acting awfully strange.”
She could imagine him, the look on his face, as his voice came back to her tensely. “What do you mean?”
“He’s making me really nervous. On the way home I felt sick and kind of panicked, but he made me get back in the car. He’s—I don’t know—acting so weird and I’m afraid—”
“You’re afraid of Jake?” Brandon cut in. “God, Darcy, you still don’t think Jake has anything to do with those murders, do you? With what happened to Liz?”
Darcy made herself into a little ball on the corner of the couch, cupping her hand closer around the phone.
“Brandon, who knows the Dungeon better than Jake does? The lipstick, Brandon, that towel—”
“I can’t believe I’m hearing this,” Brandon said solemnly. “Come on, Darcy—”
For a split second she felt the walls spinning around her … closing in … I’m here alone with a murderer, and no one will believe me.…
“Why would Jake hurt Liz?” Brandon wanted to know. “You know, Darcy, I think Liz must have said something to you at the hospital you’re not telling me … maybe you’d better tell me what she said.”
“I …” Darcy stopped, drew a ragged breath. “Why would Jake hurt anyone? Look, Brandon, a psychopath doesn’t particularly have to have a good reason for what he does, he just does it.”
“Ssh … calm down. Tell me what’s really wrong.”
Darcy froze. “What do you mean? Why do you say that?”
“Because you sound like you’re going to fall apart any second.” His voice was grave. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Did something happen I don’t know about?”
She was nodding, but no sound was coming out. Yes, oh, yes, I’m going to be next, save me, Brandon, please, before it’s too late—
“Darcy—”
“Please, Brandon, I know it’s Jake, I just know it is—I—”
She didn’t hear the footsteps coming up behind her … didn’t see the hand reaching out for the phone.
“Hang up,” a voice said.
“What?” Darcy spoke louder. “Brandon, what did you say?”
“Say goodbye. And hang up.” The voice spoke again, only it wasn’t coming from the receiver, she realized now, it was closer, in the room with her, right beside her—
A hand reached out for the phone.
“Brandon …” Darcy whispered slowly, “I really need to go now—”
A finger pressed down on the button, and Brandon’s voice clicked off.
Darcy raised her eyes to the figure by the couch.
“I wish you hadn’t done that,” Jake said.
21
Darcy tensed, her eyes on the door, but before she could move, Jake had a hold of her wrists.
“Just sit there,” he said. “Just sit right there and don’t even think about running.” As his eyes bored into her, she trembled and gave a choked cry.
“Are you going to kill me?”
She was actually surprised at how resigned she felt … surprised at how calm Jake seemed, towering above her, shaking his head slowly as a look of anger went over his face and then faded.
“I should.” He shrugged then. “But maybe I’ll wait till later.” As he turned away and went into the kitchen, Darcy stared in disbelief. She heard the sounds of coffee being made and after a while he came back with two steaming cups, handing her one.
“So.” He sank down at the other end of the couch and sprawled back, stretching out his long legs. “Maybe you better tell me why you think I’m such a psychopath, huh?”
Darcy stared at him, her face going alternately white, then scarlet. Her hand shook so badly that coffee sloshed out, and she had to set the cup down.
“I … I …” she stammered, and Jake leaned his head back with a sigh.
“Come on, Darcy, I’d really like to hear this. Just start at the beginning. And whatever you do, don’t leave out a thing.”
As he raised an eyebrow and waited, a sudden surge of indignation replaced her fear, and she reached for the phone.
“I’m calling the police.” She tried to sound brave, unsettled by his almost lazy indifference.
“It’s not funny!” Darcy burst out, her hand clamping down on the arm of the couch. “How can you sit there like nothing’s happened! When everything is so horrible!”
“What?” Jake said quietly. “Your accusing me of murder? Yeah, I guess that’s pretty horrible, all right.”
Darcy clammed up and laced her fingers together around one knee. She stared straight ahead, and the silence went on and on.
“So what gave me away?” Jake said at last. “My late hours? My sleazy personality?”
“Stop it,” Darcy murmured.
Jake leaned toward her, looked hard into her face. “You’re really afraid of me, aren’t you, Darcy?” He sounded bewildered. “You really think …” He left the sentence unfinished and closed his eyes with a groan. “Damn …”
“Please let me go,’ she whispered, tears filling her eyes.
“Let you go?” Jake echoed. “Go where? Your mother doesn’t give a damn about you—never did, as far as I can tell. Come on, Darcy, I thought we needed each other.”
Now it was Darcy’s turn to look stunned. As Jake leaped to his feet and began pacing, she brushed hastily at her tears and ran the back of her hand across her runny nose.
“I mean, look at you,” Jake muttered, but more to himself than to her as he walked back and forth across the living room. “You’re so pretty—so—so sweet—you cleaned up the place—”
“But you hated it when I did that!”
“I never said I hated it! I said I couldn’t find anything!’
“Well”—Darcy sniffled—“it was such a mess—”
“It was such a mess!” Jake stared at her, somewhat incredulously. “I was such a mess! I expected a carbon copy of your mother, and instead I got you! God, if I weren’t such an honorable guy!”
Darcy straightened, bewildered. “What are you talking about?”
“And if you weren’t so damn innocent!” he sputtered. “I’m trying my hardest not to care about you, and you think I’m a murderer!”
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