Relaxing, she put on a pot of coffee and went back to thinking about Keith Reistad. He had a quirky, nice face, she remembered that. Mom was the one to insist her kids stay in the waiting room. It wasn’t like he’d made a rule or anything. He’d sometimes been nice enough to sit down and talk for a minute. Of course, she’d been tongue-tied, but Emily would chatter away to him. Once he’d whipped a deck of cards out of his pocket and amazed them with some tricks. Mom had watched, too, smiling. Then there was the time Mom had gone to her office and he had come in the front door, looking surprised to see Beth. Emily hadn’t been with her. Beth’s momentary puzzlement cleared. Because elementary school didn’t get out as early as middle school, of course.
Mr. Reistad had raised his eyebrows at the sight of her daypack at her feet. “Bored, are you?”
Beth remembered wrinkling her nose. “Not bored enough to do homework. Most of it’s math, and I hate math.”
It ran like a movie in her head.
His smile was so open, not like most adults’. “Well, I can entertain you for a minute.”
“How?”
“Wait and see.”
He’d reached behind the reception counter and come back with a clipboard and plain white printer paper. Oh, and a pencil. “You have an interesting face,” he said. “I can always tell what your sister is thinking, but not you.”
He sat, studied her with his head tilted and began to draw.
The movie cut off, with the suddenness of a skipping CD, and jumped jaggedly to another scene.
“Oh, my God,” Beth whispered. While he drew, she’d gone back to being bored. That’s why she’d dismissed the scene from her memory. She thought he was doing some silly cartoon-like thing, as if she was a dumb little kid. She hadn’t paid any attention to what he was drawing, until...
She spun toward the counter, looking for her phone. Her hand shook as she picked it up. It took a minute to scroll to Tony’s last call, a week ago. There. Hearing the first ring, the second, she whispered, “Please, please answer. Please.”
“Beth?”
“I remembered. It was Reistad. He started to draw me because I was bored waiting for Mom, only she came back and was in a hurry, and he shrugged and said he’d do it another time. He balled the sheet of paper up and tossed it into the wastebasket. I went to get it, but Mom got mad and hustled me out.”
“Did you get a look at it?”
The knock on her back door made her jerk. “Oh! Emily’s here. Yes, at the end. I didn’t pay attention until then, but...it was really good. And I’m sure it was the same—” She reached to unlock.
“Don’t open the door until you’re sure it’s Emily,” he said urgently. “I’ll be there in about two minutes. Be cautious.”
“Yes, okay.” Beth dropped her phone on the table and sidled to the side, where she could look out the window. Emily’s puff of short blond hair couldn’t be mistaken.
Another hard rap. “Beth?”
She hurried to open the door.
“What took you so long?” Emily stepped inside.
Focused on Emily, it took Beth a second too long to see the blur of movement behind her.
Chapter Seventeen
THE BLACK-MASKED FIGURE from her nightmares was suddenly there, rushing toward the doorway behind Emily.
A cry caught in Beth’s throat. Desperate to slam the door in his face, she lunged forward. Too late. His shoulder slammed into it, and he bowled into Emily. She went sprawling, and he leaped right over her, going for Beth.
It all happened so fast. She dodged to the side and swept the counter with a desperate gaze. No butcher block with knives. The sole thing within reach was a ceramic bowl filled with apples and bananas.
Behind him, Emily began to push herself up. No, no! Stay down! Beth didn’t know if she got the words out. He was already spinning toward Emily. Now Beth heard herself screaming like a banshee as she clutched the bowl in her good hand and swung it at him, hard. Fruit flew, and the bowl bounced off his back as his booted foot lashed out and smashed into Emily’s head. She dropped with a thud and lay still.
Rage seemed to sweep away Beth’s terror. She wanted to kill this man.
With a ceramic bowl?
I’ll be there in two minutes, Tony had promised. If she could hold out that long...
Watching the intruder, she backed away. Eyes glittered from the cut-outs in the mask. Until now, she hadn’t seen what he held in his gloved hand, and she wished she still hadn’t. Instead of a baseball bat, he’d brought a knife with a wicked blade and a black rubber hilt.
It was hard, so hard, to tear her eyes from that blade, but she had to be able to read his intentions.
Not looking away from her either, he used one foot to shove Emily’s limp body to the side so he could shoulder the door shut. Beth retreated as fast as she could going backward, while he took the time to flick the dead bolt closed. Out of the kitchen. Run. If she could make it to the front door... But he’d catch her, she knew he would, and if she turned her back—She shuddered involuntarily. No.
Her mind scrabbled for anything she might reach that could be a weapon. Trying to find a knife of her own in the drawer would have been hopeless. She had a sudden, absurd image of them fencing. En garde. The bowl felt silly, useless, but without it she’d have nothing. If she could get that far, there was an African sculpture in the living room, tall and heavy. Ebony, she’d always thought, or ironwood. She could use it as a club.
But she wouldn’t get to it in time. Unless she could shake him up.
“Why the mask, Keith?” Except for a rasp, she almost sounded conversational.
He froze in the middle of a prowling step forward. She shuffled back two.
“Sorry,” she said, “but this scene is too late. I’ve already told the detective.”
“He won’t be able to prove a thing. I’ll be long gone.”
Two minutes. Had it already been two minutes, or only seconds? Beth had no idea.
“If your little sister hadn’t blabbed, I’d have had no idea you remembered.”
“If my sister hadn’t blabbed—” she kept inching back, sliding her feet to stay balanced “—when the police came, you could have said, Sure, Christine and I were lovers. How could they have proved you’d killed her?”
He shrugged as he took a longer step than any of hers. “Who knows what they found with her.”
“I do.”
“Really?” There was a smile in his voice. “I was careful, you know. But forensics keeps improving. Better safe than sorry.”
If Tony looked in the kitchen window, would he be able to see Emily? Dear God, what if he’d taken the key to her place from his ring?
He could break the window.
“Why did you kill her? What could possibly—”
He sprang forward so fast, she stumbled but still swung her clumsy weapon. By some miracle it connected with his arm enough to deflect the knife but not to stop him. He kept coming, thrusting toward her torso. This time, she lifted her broken arm to use as a shield. The blade slid off the cast. Beth lurched back, realized she was in the living room.
Please come, Tony.
* * *
TONY WASN’T HAPPY that Emily would be there, but he needed to get Beth’s story. He could use it to justify asking Mrs. Reistad for an interview. Was it enough for a warrant to look for Reistad’s pencil drawings—and the bat that had come in contact with Beth’s bare skin? Probably not, he thought ruefully, turning into the alley. But they were getting there. Beth had thought the bat was wood, so the chances were excellent that the state lab could lift enough skin cells to confirm it was the weapon used in the attack. Maybe fingerprints. The assailant had worn gloves, but people often forgot they’d had to touch a weapon when buying it or stowing it at home or in the trunk of the car.
Tony’s usual vis
itor slot was occupied. He recognized the Volkswagen Golf from that first Sunday. Damn it. He had to back up to get to the one open parking place he saw. He was taking it even if it said residents only. No, he’d gotten lucky—it was the same one he’d used during last night’s useless bodyguard stint.
More out of anticipation than urgency, he jogged to Beth’s unit, where he rapped firmly on the door.
He didn’t hear a thing. Nobody came to let him in, which was strange. Frowning, he raised his hand to knock again but checked himself. The prickles on the back of his neck were probably premature, but he didn’t like what he was thinking.
Then, tipping his head, he identified something he’d been hearing. It sounded like a far-off train whistle...except it was coming from behind this door.
Now adrenaline shot through his body like a bolt of lightning.
“Shit!” He tried the knob and realized the dead bolt was thrown. He dug in his pocket for his keys.
* * *
THE KNOCK ON the door made Beth jerk, although she didn’t know how she’d heard it through the roar in her head and the sound of her own screams.
Reistad froze. “Who is it?”
Backing away slowly, she let out another ear-splitting scream, praying Tony would hear her even though she knew how well-insulated her townhouse was. She was almost to the bookcase where the African statue of a tall woman carrying a basket on her head was displayed. A real weapon. Except she couldn’t swing it effectively like a bat, not with one hand.
There was no second knock. A new crest of fear struck at the possibility that Tony had been annoyed and gone away. If so...she was dead.
Looking wild, Reistad rushed her again.
This time, she slammed her cast downward on the hand holding the knife, although she felt a sting across her belly. Using ugly words, he threw himself forward again as she dodged to the side.
They both heard an exclamation from the kitchen, then a roar of rage.
Reistad turned from her and ran for the front door. Beth didn’t hesitate. She grabbed the heavy statue and went after him.
* * *
TONY COULDN’T BELIEVE he’d almost fallen over Emily’s body, after his nearly silent entrance. God, he hoped she wasn’t dead.
Another enraged scream came from the front of the townhouse. Gun already in his hand, Tony ran forward, yelling, “Police!”
A black-clad figure and Beth seemed to be struggling by the front door. No—Beth was pounding him repeatedly with something. He was trying to get away, hunching against the blows.
As Tony snapped, “Freeze, you son of a bitch,” Beth bashed the guy in the head. He staggered, momentarily stunned, and Tony closed in. Seeing the knife in the scumbag’s hand, he wanted—like he’d never wanted before—to pull the trigger.
He shoved the barrel of his Glock to the creep’s neck. “Hands against the wall! Do it! Now!”
As he used his body to flatten Reistad, something whistled through the air and smacked his shoulder.
“Beth! I have him. Stop.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw her back away, trembling. Some long, dark object dangled from her good hand. Blood soaked the front of her T-shirt.
Swearing, he twisted Reistad’s wrist until the knife fell, then slapped on plastic cuffs and shoved him to the floor. Knee in the middle of his back, Tony groped for his phone with his free hand. Reaching dispatch, he barked out orders. Ambulance. Backup.
Then he went to Beth. “Sweetheart. God. You’re bleeding.”
She let him pry the weapon from her hand—a statue of some kind, and damn, it weighed a lot more than it looked—and propel her to the sofa. She sank down with a muffled sob, then tried to spring right up.
“Emily!”
“Sit. You’re hurt.”
The eyes that met his were scarcely human. She’d gone to a desperate place he recognized. Her whole body shook. Blood now smeared the cast sling and her other hand, after she touched it to her stomach.
Keeping an eye on the man who lay unmoving, Tony lifted her shirt. Blood didn’t geyser out. With a sick feeling of relief, he tore his own shirt over his head and pressed it to the general area of her wound.
“You’re safe now,” he said. “You’re safe.”
She looked at him, but he didn’t know what she saw.
He went to the kitchen, determined that Emily was breathing, and returned to reassure Beth. Then he crouched next to her assailant, yanked down the hood, pulled the mask over the man’s head and stared at Keith Reistad.
“You are under arrest,” he began.
* * *
BETH STARED UP at the strips of fluorescent lighting on the ceiling of the emergency room cubicle. The local the doctor had injected before using a combination of sutures and butterfly bandages on her laceration seemed to be wearing off because she felt the burn again. The doctor had told her she was lucky because the cut wasn’t deep. Lucky? Right now her anxiety had ratcheted so high, she was this close to exploding out of the cubicle and running through the emergency department until she found Emily.
At the soft scuff of a footstep, she turned her head.
Tony came straight to her, his gaze raking over her. “You’re okay?”
He’d had to let the EMTs take her away earlier. Instead, he’d accompanied Reistad to the hospital, to be examined for a possible concussion. Vengefully, Beth wished she’d caved his head in. Why did Tony have to stop her?
When Tony got close enough, Beth grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “Emily. Nobody will tell me anything!”
“She’s awake.” He gently closed his hand around hers. “I borrowed this shirt. Don’t ruin it.”
“Oh.” Flushing, she let go, but his hand stayed wrapped warmly around hers. “Where is she?”
“Across the way.” He nodded toward the nurse’s station set up as the hub of the department. “I had a feeling you’d demand answers, so I went by there first. She asked about you, too.”
“She was unconscious.”
He nodded. “My guess is, they’ll want to keep her overnight, but that’s no reason to worry. I had the impression she was flirting with the nurse or orderly or whatever he was who brought her back from having an MRI.”
Her fingers bit into his. “They could find something. Like...like a blood clot.”
“They could, but they probably won’t.” He smiled at her with warmth and humor. “Were you like this when she was younger? Sure she had the plague if the school called to tell you she was sick?”
Beth stuck out her tongue before conceding, “Of course I was. Especially the first year because I didn’t have a driver’s license and couldn’t rush to her school. And, yes, when she got older, I freaked whenever she was five minutes past her curfew, too.”
He laughed, lightening an expression that had been grim. “Is that how you learned to be a wild woman?”
“I sort of was, wasn’t I?” If anger hadn’t been part of the mix, would she have been able to fight back as effectively? “I really wanted to kill him. I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
She saw understanding in his brown eyes. “Thank God you did.”
“It was partly seeing what he’d done to Emily.”
“But if not for Emily, you wouldn’t have opened your door.”
Indignation had her trying to pull her hand free of his. “So now it’s her fault?”
He laughed again, white teeth flashing. “No, Beth. Sharing everything she knew with the world was her fault, but nothing else is.”
“Well.” Her momentary pique couldn’t last. “Did he talk to you?”
“No, he lawyered up right away.” He frowned. “I hope we can get him for your mother’s murder, but I can’t promise. I know he admitted to you what he did, but a defense attorney will claim you’re lying. It would be good to have physical evid
ence to support your word. There’s a chance his fingerprints, now that we have them, will match one on the inside of that wallboard, for example.”
“He told me he was careful.”
“Tonight?” Tony said in surprise.
She nodded.
“It’s next to impossible not to leave a little piece of yourself behind. At the very least, we have him cold for attempted murder.” Satisfaction hardened his expression again. “We got a warrant for his house. Another detective is executing it right now. He called to tell me he found a baseball bat in the garage. No glove or ball. His wife didn’t remember seeing it before.”
“But I didn’t bleed on it.”
He explained why techs were likely to find flakes of skin, invisible to the naked eye, embedded in the wood. “Not that we need that,” he added, “except to add a charge for the first assault. This time, I caught him in the act.”
Beth shivered. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t come in time. Or that you’d have gotten another call and decided talking to me could wait.”
“Hey.” He half sat on the edge of the bed, a foot braced on the floor. “You’re thinking about my mother and sisters.”
She didn’t answer. Didn’t have to.
“I swear to you that I will never break a promise to you without talking to you about it first.” His eyes had darkened again, and his voice was deep, serious. “When I say I’ll be there, you can count on me.”
Beth searched his face. He had come to her rescue tonight. He’d rushed to the hospital the other time, scared for her. He’d moved in with her to keep her safe.
Well, and for sex.
Yes, but he would surely have gone home afterward had he not been afraid for her. Essentially moving in was...above and beyond.
She nodded at last. “Will you go check on Emily again? And...has anyone called Matt?”
“I did a few minutes ago.” He stood, looked imperturbably at her for a long moment, then walked out.
The next footsteps she heard coming fast were her brother’s. His hair was wildly disheveled, and she saw that he hadn’t stopped to put on socks with his athletic shoes. The sight of his bare ankles made her eyes sting.
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