Out of the Darkness

by Heather Graham

  “Don’t you dare use that word around me!”

  “Whatever.”

  “Oh, you idiot! That’s why people suffer so much in this life—that’s the reason Tyler and I haven’t been together. How dare you! Davey is an incredible human being. But I didn’t believe Tyler really saw that—because of people like you, you asshole!”

  She was startled to realize her rage had apparently touched him.

  “Okay, okay, well, maybe you’re right about Davey. I mean...from what I understand, it was somehow him who managed to bring about the fall of Archibald Lemming. A brilliant man like Lemming.”

  “A brilliant psychopath and killer, you mean. Not so brilliant, was he? He’s dead. And Perry Knowlton, well, what an idiot!”

  “Ah, but you aren’t seeing my genius. Knowlton got sloppy. He got sloppy—because he was afraid I would strike again before he could. He wanted so badly to kill you all himself! Not to mention it was useful to me for everyone to suspect him. I overheard that bit about their stomach contents—steak. Oh, I loved it! What a cool clue to lead nowhere—the women just both liked steak. I wished that Tyler had gone a little crazier on the hunt for a steak house, but still! So gratifying. I did such a good job. I followed Knowlton, and I learned from watching. I learned my lessons well. And I was a step ahead.”

  “You’re an ass. You killed the wrong Suzie Cornwall.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Well, I won’t kill the wrong Sarah Hampton, will I?” he asked her.

  “How did you get your victim over the fence?” she demanded.

  He laughed. “Databases! I found a way to get a key. I opened the lock. I walked in with her leaned against me, like someone who needed assistance—maybe lost something like a cell phone, you know? I just looked like a city worker, a peon. It wasn’t so hard. In fact, it was exciting. I had her body leaned against me, her head in a cooler, and I opened the lock and just walked on in. Then...fun. Setting her up. Locking the gates again. Exhilarating! It was great.”

  Sarah forced a smile. “They will know it’s you. You’ve gotten away with a lot. Let me see...the night at Cemetery Mansion. You thought you wanted to be a cop—that would be a way to see murder and horrible things...and get paid for it! You were in forensics and you were called to the scene. And you saw exactly how gruesome all the blood and guts and gore could be.”

  “I admired Archibald Lemming to no end,” he agreed. “Even as I took pictures of his cold, dead body.”

  “And you knew Perry Knowlton was still alive.”

  “I watched him leave the park.”

  “And you spent the next years trying to find him. Did you?”

  “I did, about a month ago. But I never let on. I just watched. And after he killed Hannah...well, I thought I’d help him along. I have access to all kinds of information. I wanted to give him all the precious scoop I could get my hands on. Then maybe we could become partners. But hey...he ignored me. Ignored me! But now the police and your precious FBI friends are all patting themselves on the back. They think they’re all in the clear. Well, I’ve got you—and before they find you, I’ll have your darling Davey, too!”

  “Davey is too smart for you,” she said. “He was too smart for Archibald Lemming, and for Perry Knowlton—and he’ll be too smart for you!”

  Alex Morrison smiled. “You try to protect him—well, you would have. Too bad I didn’t have you around...before. Oh, but you wouldn’t have helped me. The cheerleaders laughed at me. The football players...well, I spent some time stuffed in a locker. Oh, and I had my head stuck in a toilet. And you know what my folks did when it happened? My mother put my head in the toilet, yelling at me to stand up. And my old man—you know what he did? He beat me with a belt—told me a man would handle himself. Well, I’m handling myself now. I’m ridding the world of cheerleaders and football players and popular people who stuff others in lockers. I mean, come on, seriously—they all need to go, right?”

  * * *

  “CAN IT BE this easy?” Craig asked.

  Tyler wasn’t thinking anything was easy. Sarah wouldn’t answer her phone.

  She was supposed to have met Kieran.

  She hadn’t.

  Alex Morrison was nowhere to be found.

  Craig hadn’t tried to placate Tyler. He’d never suggested Sarah was all right somewhere, that she’d just forgotten her phone. That she was an adult and had just gotten busy.

  There was no lie to believe in, and they hadn’t tried to invent one. Time was everything; they didn’t have much.

  They had to find Sarah.

  But Craig was right. They’d easily used the system to find the patrol car Morrison had been using.

  And now they were using GPS on his phone.

  Tyler was functioning. Get in the car, move, walk, use his mind...

  Find Sarah, find Sarah...

  But all the while, he was fighting terror again, that almost overwhelming terror he’d felt when they’d realized Perry Knowlton had taken down an FBI agent and was heading to the safe house.

  Did Alex Morrison really believe he could get away with this? Would it matter, would anything matter, if he managed to kill Sarah?

  “He’s here, right on this spot,” Craig said, frustrated. “We’ve got the old subway map, but I can’t find anywhere that’s an entry.” He paused, looking around the street.

  Tyler did the same; he stared at the map again. He scanned the buildings intently.

  At the corner was an old stone apartment block. There was a grate, a vent from the massive subway system and underground city below.

  It was New York. There were grates in sidewalks everywhere.

  But the building appeared to have gone up in the early 1900s.

  Right about the same time as the subway.

  And the facade had never been changed.

  He didn’t speak; he rushed ahead of Craig and bent to pull on the grate. It seemed too tight. Craig reached past him, helping him twist the metal.

  It gave.

  There was a short leap down to an empty little room.

  But as his eyes adjusted, Tyler saw an old wooden door.

  And the door opened to a flight of ancient, worn stairs.

  He and Craig looked at one another.

  Tacitly silent, they started down.

  At least Tyler prayed that he was silent. To him, his heart seemed to be beating loudly in an agonized staccato.

  * * *

  ALEX MORRISON CAME and hunkered down before Sarah, studying his well-honed knife and then looking at her with a satisfied smile.

  “I guess I did want to torture you in a way. I mean, I spent days with my head in a toilet due to a cheerleader.”

  “I never did anything to anyone, Alex. I just liked cheerleading—I was good at gymnastics. And Tyler was never cruel to anyone in his life. He worked with a lot of the kids who weren’t so good, on his own time. He got the coaches to have special days and special races... You’re so wrong! Yes, people can be cruel. Kids can be cruel. We all know that, and to most of us, it’s deplorable. I didn’t have enough faith in people. But you...you’re just a truly sad and pathetic case! Kill me. Do it. But it will never end what you feel. It won’t help the hatred and rancor that fester constantly within you!”

  As she finished speaking, she heard something.

  She wasn’t sure what.

  Rats?

  And then she saw. She didn’t know how. It seemed impossible.

  Tyler was there. Tyler and Craig. They had somehow known, had somehow found her...

  Tyler made a motion to tell her to keep talking.

  And she realized her position. Tyler was there, yes. And Craig. But Alex Morrison was in front of her. All but touching her. And he had his freshly honed, razor-sharp carving knife in his hands.

  “You’re wrong!” Alex was saying.
“You’re wrong. Every time I kill, I feel a little better. I feel I’ve sent one of you bitches or bastards on to a just reward!”

  “You really should have gotten to spend a lot more time with Kieran Finnegan. She’s a psychologist, not a psychiatrist—though her bosses are psychiatrists. She could explain to you that no, you were never going to feel better. I don’t really get all of it—I majored in English and mass communication—but there are sociopaths and there are psychopaths. I believe, by the definitions I’ve heard, you might be the first. I’m not all that sure.”

  He moved the knife, waving it in an S through the air.

  “She could help you.”

  “I don’t want to be helped.”

  Sarah had never thought it was possible for such large men to move with such silent ease.

  But Tyler and Craig had moved across the floor. Tyler was almost at her side. Craig was slightly behind Alex and to his left.

  “Alex—”

  “Hmm. Maybe I’m...oh, I don’t know. But you know, Sarah, I think that if we’d been in high school together, you wouldn’t have made fun of me. I think I will be merciful. I was merciful with Suzie. I wasn’t so good to that bitchy runaway up in Sleepy Hollow. I sawed at her neck while she was alive. You—I’m going to see to it you bleed out quickly, quickly, quickly!”

  “Hey, you!” Tyler called.

  Stunned, Morrison swung around. He had his knife out and slashing, but it never made contact. Tyler slammed his arm down on Morrison’s so hard and fast the knife went flying and the man screamed in pain.

  Craig dived for the chair, spinning Sarah around, then cutting the ropes.

  Sarah saw Alex Morrison was on his knees, staring up at Tyler with pure hatred.

  His arm dangled at his side.

  “I didn’t shoot him, Craig,” Tyler said. “Maybe we can get something out of him.”

  “After he’s locked up,” Craig said.

  Sarah could hear sirens again.

  Broken arm or not, Craig Frasier was seeing to it that Alex Morrison was handcuffed.

  And Sarah was back in Tyler’s arms.

  “It’s over,” he told her as she broke into sobs. “It’s truly over.”

  And she knew it was.

  Only the nightmares would remain, and if she could wake from them in Tyler’s arms, eventually, they would be over, too.

  * * *

  IT WAS A strange honeymoon, Tyler thought, but a great one.

  The wedding, just as they had planned, took place at Finnegan’s. They’d spent a few days alone in the Poconos, and now...

  Sarah had needed to see Davey, and Tyler understood. Best of all was that Sarah believed he understood.

  And so...

  Buzzers were ringing. Bells were chiming. Neon lights were flashing.

  There really was nowhere like Vegas.

  And it was great; the actual “honeymoon” part of their extended honeymoon had been personal and intimate and amazing.

  And now...

  Sean and Suzie had joined them. They were seeing shows, going to music events, hanging out at the hotel’s stunning pool. And at night...well, they were making love in their exquisite room.

  Ever since the day Tyler had rescued Sarah from Morrison, they’d planned their lives, and were living them to the fullest.

  He was coming back to New York. He was going to move his investigations office there.

  He could consult with police, or the FBI, since now he had some useful and friendly connections.

  And Sarah would keep writing.

  She was really much better than ever, she assured him. He had given her that—a greater passion for her work!

  It was their last night in Vegas. Tomorrow, they’d head back and get on with their regular lives. Somehow, to Tyler, those words held a touch of magic. Real magic. They’d weathered so much.

  They would continue to weather what the future might bring.

  They were playing slots at the moment, because Davey loved them so much and could spend hours at a machine with a twenty-dollar bill.

  Tyler was pretty sure that Davey’s greatest pleasure was hitting the call button for the waitress, smiling broadly when a pretty woman brought him a Shirley Temple and then grinning toward Tyler or Sarah so that one of them would tip her.

  Tyler was watching Davey when Sarah finished playing at a silly cow slot machine that said, “Moo!” every few minutes. He reached out a hand, pulling her over to sit on his lap at the stool where he’d found a place to perch.

  She leaned against him. They didn’t speak.

  Life...

  It was full of relationships. Cruel parenting had helped shape Alex Morrison. A brutal lack of empathy and lack of friendship had helped put the nails in the coffin of his psyche.

  Tyler knew he’d been lucky.

  He’d had a great family. And so had Sarah. And now, so close, they both had Aunt Renee and Davey.

  Love was an amazing thing. There could never be too much love for many people in one’s life.

  And, of course, there was that one special love. Some people were lucky enough to know it when they had a chance to hold it, and hold it fast.

  A forever kind of love.

  Sarah was smiling at him.

  He smiled back.

  And it was evident, of course, but he whispered the words.

  “I love you,” he said.

  “And I love you,” she whispered back.

  Davey had risen. He threw his arms around the both of them. “And I love you!” he said. “Come on, we gotta go up! Gotta get home tomorrow. I have a girlfriend, you know.”

  Laughing, they rose. It was time to go up to their rooms.

  Tyler thought there was nothing wrong at all with a last night with Sarah in that exquisite bed!

  * * * * *

  Read on for a special first look

  at the next thrilling romantic suspense

  in the

  NEW YORK CONFIDENTIAL series

  from New York Times bestselling author

  Heather Graham,

  A DANGEROUS GAME,

  available March 13, 2018,

  from MIRA Books.

  Author Note

  Many years ago, at a conference, I met a woman who was to become one of my best friends. She’s brilliant, funny, artistic and kind. We were young, our children were young and our entire families became best friends—which we are to this day.

  Connie’s youngest is Josh, who has Down syndrome. He’s an amazing young man. He loves the movies and everything about them, and can beat you, hands down, in any movie trivia game. He has all kinds of savvy that you might not expect. He’s also a working actor, which is no easy feat. He, like his mom, is kind; there is not a mean bone in his body. I cherish his friendship and his love.

  Once upon a time, I had him with me and several members of our two families at a theme park set up as a haunted attraction as Halloween approached. And while he wanted to go into one of the horror houses, Josh was afraid.

  I am very easily scared myself. Truly—an absolute easy-mark coward. Therefore, it was quite simple for me to cheerfully say that I would wait with Josh while the others went through the haunted house. But Josh saw a kiosk with some really great light-up toy swords. So we bought one, and then Josh was ready! Being brave and protective, he went ahead of me, and into the fray we charged! (Well, walked in slowly and carefully. I was—and am!—still an incredible coward!)

  Actors and animatronics were everywhere.

  And I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if just one little part of it all was real.

  Thus this story, Out of the Darkness, was born!

  I hope you enjoy it.

  Sincerely,

  Heather Graham

  A Dangerous Game

/>   by Heather Graham

  Chapter 1

  “Kieran, Kieran Finnegan, right?” the woman asked.

  She was wrapped in a black trench coat, wore a black scarf that nearly encapsulated her face and held a dark, blanketed bundle against her chest as if it was the greatest treasure in the world.

  Kieran wasn’t sure when the woman had come in; the offices of psychiatrists Fuller and Miro were closed for the day, the doctors were gone and Kieran had been just about to leave herself. The receptionist, Jake, usually locked the office door on his way out, but, apparently, tonight he had neglected to do so. Then again, Jake might have already left when Kieran’s last patient had exited a little while ago.

  Whether Jake had been gone or he had forgotten to lock up, the door had been left open.

  And so, this woman accosted Kieran in the reception area of the office just as she was on her way out.

  “I am Kieran, but I’m so sorry, I’m the therapist, not one of the doctors. Actually, we are closed for the day. You’ll need to come back. Both the doctors are wonderful, and I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you another time.”

  And this woman certainly looked like she needed help.

  Her eyes were huge and as dark as the clothing she was wearing as she stared at Kieran with a look of despair.

  “All right, let me see what I can do. You seem distraught,” Kieran said, and winced—wow. Stating the obvious. “I can get you to a hospital. I can call for help—”

  “No! No!” The woman suddenly thrust the bundle she’d held so closely into Kieran’s arms. “Here!”

  Kieran instinctively accepted it. Reflex? She wasn’t sure why.

  It began to cry. And writhe. Of course. The bundle was a baby.

  “Ma’am, please—hey!” Kieran protested.

  The woman had turned and was fleeing out the door.

  “Wait! Hey!” Kieran cried. She reached immediately for the phone, hoping that she’d be in time to reach the building’s security desk.

  Ralph Miller answered the phone at the lobby desk. “Hey, pretty girl, what are you still doing at work? I’ve got a few hours to go, and then I am out of here. I hear that the Danny Boys are playing at Finnegan’s tonight. Can’t believe your brother snagged them. I would have thought that you’d have gotten out early—”