Murder in the Shadows

by Jade Astor

  “No need. He’ll be dead soon, too. At least Sandra will survive. I guess I can live with that, since she didn’t have much to do with what happened anyway. It’s kind of my own fault. I never expected her to wake up before I got the rope around her neck. I thought women only screamed like that in horror flicks. They sure have a set of lungs on them, don’t they?”

  “Rope? I thought you attacked her with the scarf?”

  “People see what they want to. I used a piece of rope from her prop collection. The scarf was already under Victor’s bed, but I knew no one would notice it until we all came looking. I’d planned to frame Victor from the beginning. Watching him lose the house and go to prison would have been much more satisfying than killing him outright.”

  “So your neck wound…?”

  “I rubbed the rope against my skin until it made a mark. It didn’t even hurt that much. Then I went in to kill Sandra. In a way I’m sorry that didn’t work out. It would have been fun to make Logan suffer, especially since he didn’t seem to care that much about losing Jamie. Anyway, after she chased me away, I hid the rope in my own room, lay down on the floor, and started to moan. I timed it like a scene from a play.” Wes laughed. “Sandra didn’t teach you very well after all, did she? Some makeup expert you are. You couldn’t even tell I’d inflicted that myself. And Logan’s directing skills aren’t any more impressive. He didn’t even realize I was acting. Just goes to show, I could have had a real career if only I’d been born with Jamie’s looks.”

  Once again, it all came back to Jamie. If he hadn’t worked so hard to make everyone hate him, they might have been concerned enough to figure the plot out earlier. Then again, Jamie’s malicious personality was what inspired the whole scheme to begin with.

  Again he kept his tone neutral, unthreatening. He took another cautious and hopefully undetectable step backward. “Jamie didn’t run away, did he?”

  “No. No need to worry about finding him, though. He’s dead by now. I’d say I’m sorry that he probably suffered, but I’d be lying. The pain was no more than what he deserved.”

  “The night he supposedly took off with his agent—you engineered that, I assume.”

  “Yep. It was easier than I ever dreamed. Who knew he’d fall for that phony website so easily? But then, never underestimate the vanity of some people. All I had to do was email him using the agent persona I’d created and ask him to meet me in front of the house just before dawn. Told him I’d be pulling up in a Lexus, and he only needed to bring an overnight bag because we were traveling light. I had a great part lined up for him, I said. At least that much was true. The rest was simple. I just waited at the end of the driveway and waited for him to sneak out. Then bam!”

  Wes banged his fist on the wall beside him. Darian almost jumped out of his skin. He stopped moving toward the door in an attempt to keep Wes from advancing. It worked, at least for the moment. They stood, unmoving, in a tableau veiled in suffocating, blood-scented shadows.

  “Did you force him to send that text?”

  “Nah. Once I took care of him, I used his phone and pre-scheduled the message so Logan would receive it while I was standing right there. Amazing what you can do with apps these days. Luckily, he’d been blathering about his high-powered new agent for days. It made sense to everyone that he would have taken off on a whim. Nobody seriously questioned it…just like they didn’t before.”

  “You mean when Mikah disappeared.”

  “Right. That was easy, too. Only in that case, I cleared out all his things so it looked like he’d dropped out of college and moved on. He was always a little weird. Didn’t fit in. No one questioned why he would leave.”

  “Tell me about Mikah. I saw his picture. He was very handsome.”

  “He was. I used to watch him rehearse while we were filming that stupid movie of Logan’s. Mikah was playing one of the victims. A naïve straight guy the killer targets because of his innocence. It made my blood boil to see him being set up like that.”

  “It was just acting, though. Not real.”

  “In a way. But his role was a metaphor for what Jamie and Logan wanted to do to him. Disgusting predators, both of them. They were going to take his naiveté and use it for their own pleasure—to enhance their relationship. Taking advantage of others gave them sick pleasure. Is it any wonder I couldn’t stand it? Knowing I loved him, they expected me to help them set him up—both on screen and off.”

  He expelled a heavy, agonized breath. Darian murmured sympathetically. “That must have been hard.”

  “He was so beautiful. So young. I don’t mean age wise—we were all the same age. He’d come from one of those old-fashioned family based communities where everything is organized around faith and family units—getting married young, pumping out a kid every year, working in the community and serving the local church. That was the life his parents had planned for him. You know how it is to be born gay in a place like that.”

  “Not exactly,” Darian admitted. “I had a different background.”

  Wes scoffed. “Oh, right. The two moms. Very progressive and all that. I get it. Lucky you.” His tone turned bitter. “Some of us weren’t born into such idyllic circumstances.”

  “You mean your family wasn’t supportive?”

  “Family. Hah. I had no family to speak of. At least none I wanted to acknowledge. I got the hell out while the getting was good. That’s why I could relate to Mikah so well. I figured he’d have to fall in love with me. Why wouldn’t he? We had so much in common. I…I cared for him so much.”

  “But then Victor got in your way.”

  “Victor. Yes. I had to do something about Victor. So I asked Mikah to come on a hike with me. He agreed. I was sure if I just explained everything, I could make it right for him…for us.”

  His voice trailed off. Darian thought he heard a soft sob.

  “What happened then?” he prompted.

  “Isn’t it obvious? I should have seen it coming. But I didn’t. Shows you where my head was at when I was young. I’d never loved anyone before.”

  And you still haven’t, Darian wanted to say. Loving someone meant not killing them when they failed to respond as wanted, among other things. But he didn’t dare say it out loud. He just listened.

  “We walked up into the mountains. I started off by apologizing for what Logan and Jamie had tried to do to him. He was very forgiving about that. That’s the sort of person he was. It didn’t bother him at all, he said. He’d quit the film and that was the end of it as far as he was concerned. But he thanked me for my support and my friendship.”

  “That was nice of him. He seems like a very understanding guy.”

  “Looking back, I wish he hadn’t done it. It just made what followed worse. What he said emboldened me. I took his hand while we were walking and told him my feelings. I was so sure everything would start for us that day. But Mikah turned me down flat. He said he loved Victor too much.”

  “Ah. That must have been hard to hear.”

  “It was. But the worst part came after. I’m ashamed to say I begged. Mikah just looked at me with pity. I never thought I’d see that from him. Darian, I’ve never felt pain like that before. It was like a rat was inside me, chewing away at my guts. He gave a hollow laugh, said not to worry, that we’d always be the best of friends. He cared about me a lot, he said. Just not…in that way.” Wes paused, and Darian was sure he could feel the air vibrate as he trembled. “So I did what I had to do to make it stop.”

  Darian felt a chill creep slowly up his spine and grip his neck with icy fingers. “I can’t help wondering why you didn’t kill Victor instead. Eliminate the competition.”

  “I thought of that, yeah.” Wes grew calmer. “But here’s the thing. Victor’s death would have been much harder to explain and cover up. Mikah was already talking about leaving college. Everyone knew he’d quit the film—at least, those who knew he was making it in the first place. That was only me, Logan, Victor, and Jamie. All of them ha
d seen him walk off the set for good. So in the end I think I made the right decision.”

  It was a statement, not a question. Wes sounded totally at peace with his decision. Yet Darian got the sense that he wanted to talk about it more. He wondered if Chuck could hear what they were saying. But even if he could, would he survive long enough to repeat it to anyone?

  Darian decided to keep things going. Every moment he could buy was another moment he could use to formulate a plan. On the other hand, Chuck was probably bleeding out fast. And he wasn’t doing too well in the plan department, either. “He must have been really special for you to miss him so much.”

  “He was. And I do. Every day.”

  “What did you feel once he was gone? Knowing you were the one who had killed him?” Darian slid his foot sideways until it touched the chair he’d knocked against earlier. The open door, and the hall, lay just a few feet behind him. He couldn’t see either, of course, because the room was still inky black.

  “It’s funny, but I felt good for the first time in a while. The pain in my chest was gone. He brought it on himself, you know. Wouldn’t give me a chance—too devoted to Victor. But I got to be the last person to hold him. That made it even better.”

  Poor Mikah. Darian didn’t dare say it aloud. He fought back tears. He knew any show of emotion would enrage Wes further, and he didn’t want that.

  “I sat there with him for a long time,” Wes went on, as though lost in a reverie. “Then I buried him in the woods. Not a professional job, by any means, but deep enough that no one ever found him. Except maybe animals. I don’t think Mikah would have minded that. He loved nature. This way he could be a part of it forever.” Wes sighed. “It was so peaceful out there.”

  “And no one ever wondered where he went? Not even his family?”

  “Nope. I took his keys and wallet. When his roommate went to class, I let myself in and gathered up his stuff. Lucky for me, he didn’t have much. I left a note on the table that I—well, he—was dropping out and going off to find myself. I signed it with Mikah’s name. No one ever questioned it. Not his roommate, not the college. As far as they were concerned, he was just a high-strung, sexually maladjusted theater flake who took off to see the world. And his family? Please. They sure didn’t care. They’d already begun to suspect he liked guys and disowned him. Just like that.” Wes snapped his fingers. “Maybe I should have killed them, too. I thought about it, believe me.”

  “Just like that,” Darian repeated numbly. He moved a little closer to the chair, trying not to make a sound. “But what about Victor? What did he think?”

  “He figured Mikah broke up with him over the stunt Jamie and Logan pulled. It made sense that Mikah would have blamed him. Shows you what Victor knew. He didn’t even consider what a forgiving soul Mikah really was. So that was the end of it. It’s been kind of a relief to talk about this with you, you know. All these years, I’ve never said a word. Never dared to mention his name. I know what you’re going to say—why not leave it alone? You got away with it. Why rock the boat? Just move on and forget it. But when Logan invited us all here to make another film, I saw my chance to get even with them for what they did to my life. Who could have turned that down?”

  “Yeah. I guess I can understand that,” Darian soothed him.

  “Now they all got what was coming to them. All except for Sandra, but like I said, I’m willing to give her a pass. It wasn’t her fault her parents stuck her with a brother like Logan. She might be as relieved to be rid of him as I am.” Wes snickered and began moving toward him again. “I’m glad you figured this all out, you know. It did help to talk about it. And it makes me feel way less guilty about killing you. I mean, what choice do I have? You know too much.”

  “That’s not necessary.” Darian backed up fast. His hip brushed against the chair. He gripped the back for balance and knocked one of Chuck’s discarded shirts to the floor. It fell to the floor with a whisper. “Like you said, I’m not really involved in this, any more than Sandra.”

  “Don’t bother trying to run,” Wes said. “Mikah may have been a saint, but I’m not. I’ll catch you before you get halfway to your room. And what I’ll do then won’t be pretty.”

  “There’s something I don’t understand, though. Why did you kill Brother Lew? He had nothing to do with Mikah. Was it just to hurt Victor?”

  “Hurt Victor? Nah. I can’t believe he cared about that old tramp. His compassion was just an act, like everything else. No, getting the monk out of the way was just a matter of practicality. He was in my way, you see. I needed the use of those buildings he tended—the old winery, in particular.”

  Darian’s mind raced. He thought back to the inspected he and Argo had made of those tidy brick buildings. The rusted clasps on the unlocked doors. Easy enough to slip inside and dispose of an uncomfortable burden. “You left Jamie’s body there,” he blurted.

  Wes laughed. “In a manner of speaking. I would say you’ll find out in time, but time is something you unfortunately don’t have. Argo will, maybe.”

  “I don’t quite understand what you mean,” Darian said, though in reality he was beginning to. If he was right, Wes was alluding to something worse than outright murder. Was it possible Jamie was alive—though just barely?

  “I’ve done enough explaining,” Wes suddenly decided. “I’m getting bored with it now. I do want you to know that you brought this on yourself. If you’d minded your own business, and just gone back to chasing after your cop, none of this would have happened. Really, I tried to do you a favor. Your cop was dead set on Victor being the culprit, which would have worked out fine. But you had to try and solve it yourself. Your choice.”

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make it as quick and as painless as possible. You’ve done nothing to hurt me. Not like they did. You won’t suffer like Jamie and Logan. Or even Victor, when they arrest him for killing you. I’ll make a good eyewitness. I’ll tell the jury I saw him cut your throat with one of the big knives from his dining room. Watched you bleed out in just a few seconds. It’ll be great to watch him squirm there at the defense table. Too bad you won’t be around to see it.”

  With that, he made a single, powerful lunge forward, one hand grasping at Darian’s shoulder and the other bringing the knife forward. Twisting just out of his reach, Darian overturned the clothes-draped chair between them. Its weight knocked Wes off balance just long enough for Darian to sprint for the door. He made it to the hall, hearing Wes bark out a curse behind him, and plunged forward into the dark.

  He ran without seeing, hearing Wes breathing hard right behind him. Wes, though bulkier and not as fast on his feet as Darian, had endurance and adrenaline on his side. Before long, he was gaining. More than once, Darian heard the knife blade swish beside his ear as Wes aimed for and missed his throat.

  When he got to the staircase, he almost tripped over the top step, but managed to right himself in time. With one hand on the rail, he flew down two treads at a time. He managed to get halfway down, by his calculation, before he felt Wes’s big hand clamp around his shoulder. Knowing the knife’s blade was only a heartbeat behind, Darian twisted himself sideways, bodyslamming Wes with the same move he had used on the creep in the convenience store.

  Closing his eyes, he steeled himself for the pain of the knife plunging into him. But thankfully, none came. As he’d expected, though, his feet went out from under him. When he grabbed for the rail, he heard a grunt and then a thumping noise as Wes tumbled down the stairs past him. Finally, out of nowhere, another hand closed around the collar of his shirt and held him in place.

  Next, from somewhere in the darkness, he heard shouting. But he knew that had to be his imagination, because it sounded like Argo yelling “Stop! Sheriff’s Department!”

  Maybe, Darian marveled, he was already dead. Was that why he didn’t feel the pain of the stab wound? At least he would die with Argo’s voice in his ears.

  “Darian,
” another voice said. This one also sounded familiar, and when he opened his eyes he saw Victor crouching on the stairs beside him. That made a peculiar kind of sense, actually. Obviously Wes had killed Victor too. Somehow they were entering the afterlife together.

  From below them came a beam of intense white light. It swept the staircase and illuminated the huge silvery-white gusts blowing through Reece Hall’s open front door. Finally it came to rest on Wes, lying at the bottom of the stairs with the knife protruding from the center of his chest. Then Argo stepped inside, his sling gone and his coat and hair covered with snow. He raised his powerful police-issue flashlight above his shoulder.

  So they were still alive after all—with one notable exception, at least. “Argo, what are you doing here?” Darian called down to him.

  “Victor called me. He said someone tried to strangle Sandra.” Argo moved to stand over Wes’s motionless form. “What the hell’s going on?”

  “You sure took your sweet time coming.” Victor slung a protective arm around Darian’s shoulder and pulled him close. “You didn’t really think I was just going to go back to sleep after all that, did you?”

  “Have you seen the roads?” Argo asked irritably. “I almost didn’t make it.”

  But you did, Darian thought. You always do. He smiled down at Argo, who looked up and met his gaze. At the same time, Darian knew Victor’s disappointed face would stay in his memory for a long time.

  Then the words came tumbling out in a rush. “We need an ambulance for Logan and Chuck. One’s been poisoned and the other bludgeoned. And Argo, we need to get to the monks’ old winery building. I think Wes locked Jamie London in there and left him to freeze to death.”

  Chapter 18

  Darian found Victor in the white and gold room, staring at the framed photo of himself and his friends cavorting on the outdoor stage. Darian’s gaze, like Victor’s focused immediately on the image of Mikah—young, grinning, his cheeks flushed with enthusiasm. So much youth and vigor wasted, along with the potential he had to offer the world and the love he could have offered a partner. Maybe, despite his muscular physical build, Mikah had simply been a soul too gentle for the world. A fragile spirit. Wes had known that, too, and decided to take advantage of that fact.