Slowly, with caution she peeked around the corner, saw nothing but flames from the fireplace. The gooseflesh rose. She smelled the stench of alcohol and drew back. But it was too late. He was on her, grabbing her hair and holding a scalpel-like knife to her throat. She shrieked in horror.
"I wouldn't try to get away this time, Brianna. I asked you to sit by the fire and warm yourself, and that's what I want you to do." He dragged her down on the sofa with him. "In case you're wondering, I've locked the door, and only I know where the key is." He waved the knife two inches from her face.
She swallowed hard and edged away from the blade. Think, she told herself. As frightened as she was, she resolved to talk her way out of this. "What happened to Brianna?" Her voice wavered.
He cocked his head. His eyelid twitched relentlessly. "You're my Brianna, my second chance."
"I'm not Brianna. I'm nothing like Brianna."
"Don't say that. Don't say that," he bellowed. "I read her story. She had a twin just like her."
"That was fiction. Brianna and I are not twins."
"I said you are." Forcing the words through clenched teeth, he tightened a grip on her arm and held the knife at her throat.
"All right, all right. Whatever you say. Tell me what happened to her. They said she died in her car from carbon monoxide poisoning."
"That's not true. They only put her there. I watched them carry her out to the garage. They took her away from me."
"Who are they?"
"They, they, do I have to explain everything?" he spewed with contempt.
"Then tell me what really happened."
His brows narrowed, his eyelid twitched, and he leaned into her. His breath smelled like a mingling of bourbon and mint. "They tried to trick me. Brianna didn't kill herself. She loved me too much to kill herself."
He rose and paced in front of the hearth. "She had to be punished, just like the girl in her story. She asked for it. I tried to give her what she wanted, but she wouldn't stop fighting me. She wouldn't stop fighting. She wouldn't stop. I tried to quiet her, but she kept screaming and screaming. I squeezed her neck, just to warn her, and told her to stop making so much noise. She wouldn't obey me. She needed discipline."
He knelt facing Kat and held the knife to her throat. "You won't scream, will you?"
Kat stared down at the blade, inched back a little. Her forehead was punctuated with moisture.
He sat next to her again and sighed. "I want it to be perfect this time. I despise anything messy. That's what made me mad about Brianna. She lived her life messy." He bared his teeth at Kat. "She took up with every man in town, like a tramp. I took care of her. When she needed me, I looked after her. She came to me every time she needed a shoulder to cry on, and what did I get in return? Nothing but the rise of old buried hurts. Don't you see? She teased me just like every other woman."
He took a deep breath. "Everything was fine until she came to town. I'd made a life for myself until just watching her uncovered all the old feelings. She bewitched me."
He glanced toward the mantelpiece. "That candle burned out. I can't have that. Everything has to be perfect." As if entranced, he set the knife on the coffee table and picked up a book of matches, giving Kat the opportunity she needed.
The minute he rose to light the candle, she grabbed the knife. He spun around, and she lunged forward. The blade grazed his upper arm before he knocked it out of her hand. She charged toward the door and shook the doorknob with all her might.
He grabbed the scruff of her neck and growled a laugh. The blood leached into his shirt from the superficial wound. "You can't leave me now, Brianna. I have to show you how much I love you."
She was no match for the strength that came from his madness, and he dragged her back to the sofa. "Sit down and behave, or I'll have to tie you up. We wouldn't want that. Now, where was I?" He combed the hearth and garnered the knife. The blood from his wound was crusting to his shirt. He snuggled close to her. The heat poured off his body.
"What about the Faulkeses?"
"Hah! I tricked you, Brianna. That's how smart I am compared to you. They couldn't come at all, so I did. Lucky for me. I even stopped by your house and looked in your window. Did you know one night I was inside your house watching you sleep? Oh, how I wanted to touch you."
Kat recalled the night the door had slammed. It was true. He'd been in her room. So close. So terribly close to her.
"Are you warm, Brianna?"
Kat said nothing.
"I asked you if you were warm." His tone stung.
She nodded while keeping track of the knife.
"Good. We're going to resume where we left off, Brianna. Do you remember the bedroom?"
No way would Kat agree to do anything sexual he might ask of her. She'd die first. She had to keep him talking until she figured out her next move. "Tell me about your life growing up." She worked at keeping her voice level. "Were your parents around?"
"I want you to lie down, Brianna."
She skimmed the room for an object heavy enough to deal a lasting blow. An ashtray was on the dining table, but it was too far away and too small. The metal fire poker was closest. "Was your mother a good person?"
He fidgeted with his pant leg and began rocking. "I don't want to talk about her."
"Why not?"
"I just don't. Don't talk about her. She was evil." He grabbed hold of the top of Kat's shirt and held the knife to her throat. "Don't ever mention her again."
"Okay, okay." Clearly, Kat had touched a deep wound.
He stood over her and commanded her to lie down. "Do it now, Brianna. I have a second chance to make it right."
He was between Kat and the fire poker, and no way could she get to it without going through him first. She'd have to wait for the right time. But she wasn't about to lie down for him. "Why don't we talk some more?"
"Talk? That's all you ever wanted to do, Brianna. I had to take charge, don't you remember?"
As much as she feared for her own life, her thoughts were of her sister and what she must have gone through. "What did you and Brianna talk about?"
With a resigned groan he plopped on the sofa and huddled next to Kat, his arm and leg butting against hers. He kept a firm grip on the knife handle and kept the blade hovering near her neck. "No more talking, unless I say so."
With the knife poised, he unfastened the top buttons of her shirt, slid the material over her shoulder, and slipped her bra strap down. Starting at her tattoo, he kissed her skin up to her jawline. His breath was hot and putrid, his lips greasy. "Tell me you love me, Brianna."
She felt the nausea rise. "If I tell you I love you, will you let me go?" A nick of the blade, and she twitched. Her stomach clenched.
"Say it."
"I love you," she said in a robotic tone.
"I'm going to kiss you now."
* * *
Chance looked at his watch. An hour had ticked by, and it was time to go home. Kat hadn't showed up. She had all day to think, and still she hadn't tried to find him. Not a good sign. Dejected, he paid Bertie for his meal and wound through the crowded restaurant. As he was going out, Wilma was coming in. He tipped his hat to her.
"Hey, cowboy, where did that good-looking gal of yours run off to?"
"Who're you talking about?"
"Everyone knows you and Kat Summers have been hanging out together. You two are on everybody's tongue."
"As far as I know, she's at Brianna's house."
"She hasn't come into the shop lately. I was thinking about driving over there, but maybe you could relay a message for me the next time you see her."
"What is it?"
"A while back she asked me about a phone number."
"Phone number? What phone number?"
"She didn't tell you she was getting those crank calls on her cell phone? She had the guy's number, and she was trying to figure out who it belonged to."
Chance thought back to his and Kat's trip to Benton and recalled h
er mentioning a phone number, but then saying she meant the phone calls. She'd kept that from him.
"At the time I couldn't recall," Wilma was saying, "but I finally figured out where I'd seen that number. I remember I was walking up the steps to the post office and found a cell phone lying on the ground. It had a number printed on paper and taped to the back, but I didn't recognize the number. When I gave it to Lenny, his face went as white as a cotton ball, and he tucked it away fast. He didn't say anything to Clare either because she came in right after me."
"Good God, could he be the one?"
"I thought about accusing him, but Clare came in, and I didn't think I should. Maybe the phone isn't his."
"I'll tell Kat, and she can decide how to handle it."
"That sounds about right," Wilma said. "You know, I can't believe Lenny would do such a thing, really, but with a wife like Clare, who knows?"
"Excuse me," Chance said, "but I have to go."
"When you see her, tell her to stop by the shop before she leaves this place."
With an excuse to talk to Kat, he sped through town past Tilly's to Brianna's house, which was now shrouded in darkness. Kat's SUV wasn't in the driveway. Had she left town already? Perhaps she was at his house. He could only hope. But when he arrived home, his house was also shadowed, and her vehicle was nowhere in sight.
He left the engine running and darted inside to check the messages on his answering machine. One was from Stella, asking him to return her call. Another was from Monique, apologizing and hoping they could meet again. If the woman was nothing else, she was persistent. None of the messages were from Kat. Could she have left without saying goodbye? As he hurried outside to turn off the truck's engine, a sinking feeling settled in his chest.
A pair of headlights blasted him, and Rusty's truck pulled up beside him. Zeke tumbled out of the truck bed, and he yapped and wiggled around Chance.
"I took Zeke for a ride," Rusty said. "Hope you don't mind."
At the moment Zeke's welfare was the least of Chance's concerns. He roughed up Zeke's coat. "Have you by any chance seen Kat Summers's SUV around town?"
"Saw her about half an hour ago turning down Pine Road. I remember 'cause I was thinking at the time no one goes that way this time of night. It's all but darkness down that road."
All but darkness and Lenny's cabin. Chance felt a grip in his gut. If Lenny was the one harassing Brianna and now Kat with those weird calls, it followed that he might be taking this to a new level, and if he had something to do with Brianna's death, he might be luring Kat to his cabin. Lenny the postman. It seemed unlikely, but Chance wanted to be on the safe side. "Take care of Zeke, will you? And call Sheriff Holmes. Tell him to meet me at the Faulkeses' cabin. Tell him it's an emergency."
"What kind of emergency? You want me to go with you?"
"No. I need you to stay here, and call me on my cell phone if Kat shows up. Keep calling until you get hold of the sheriff."
* * *
His wet, slimy lips mashed against hers. She wanted to vomit. Between caresses and kisses she'd tried getting him to talk, but she was tired and drained of energy. She'd run out of questions to ask him and was close to giving up.
"This is better, see? You aren't fighting me this time." He kissed her once more and his breathing became ragged and shallow. "Why don't you lie down now?"
Revulsion, like none she'd ever experienced, engulfed her. Her throat was parched, and it took every ounce of determination to fend him off. "I don't think we should hurry." She forced her voice to change from desperation to sweetness. "Don't you want this evening to last? I do. Let's talk for a while longer, then I'll kiss you again and tell you how much I love you. I promise."
His eyes softened. "That's all I ever wanted from you, Brianna." He kissed her shoulder but kept the knife ready to slice at the least bit of resistance.
Outside, a vehicle's engine revved to a stop. He jerked in that direction, relaxed the arm holding the knife. Buoyed by the sound of a door closing, Kat attempted to flee from him, but he caught her by her shirt and placed her in a choke hold.
"You told someone you were here." The muscles in his arms stiffened.
She tried shaking her head no.
"You must have told." He tightened his grip, and Kat gasped for air.
Someone hammered the door and rattled the doorknob. "Kat, are you in there?"
"Chance."
"Shut up, Brianna."
In a burst of energy Kat stomped on her captor's foot and elbowed his stomach. He hunched over, allowing her to break free and run to the door. She tugged the doorknob. "Chance, help me!"
There followed a bang against the door. It held firm.
Her captor regained his footing, and from the shadows of the fireplace pulled a handgun from a brown leather bag she hadn't noticed before. "I didn't want to have to do this," he said, pointing the gun at Kat, "but you give me no choice. I'm not letting you go this time. No matter how this plays out, if I go, you're going with me. I've already started your grave. Give me your hand."
"Give it up, Doc." The sheriff's voice rang out.
The doctor lengthened both arms, the pistol aiming at her head. "See now, it's too late. They know I'm here." He shouted toward the door, "Back off. I have a gun."
The pounding stopped.
"Let her go," Chance yelled.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a frigid breeze swirled through the cabin, snuffing out the candle flames.
Keeping the gun at arm's length, the doctor with wild, probing eyes turned a complete circle, then focused on Kat. "You did it."
Kat, who was as stunned as he was, shook her head vigorously and backed up close to the door.
One by one, each candle dislodged from its holder and floated around the room.
"You're doing this. Make it stop!"
The ashtray hovered above the tabletop. Every object that wasn't nailed down--pencils, pillows, plates, candles--soared around the room, as it had played out in Kat's dream.
Kat crouched against the wall out of the way.
Gripping the gun, the doctor twirled around and around and ducked and dodged as the objects shot toward him. Eyes glazed with terror, he staggered to a stop and shook the gun at Kat, screaming, "Make it stop. Make it stop, or I'll shoot."
Everything clattered to the floor. The ashtray shattered. The fire poker crashed to the stone hearth, creating a deafening sound.
Startled, he swung around, lost his balance, and just as the door was kicked open, stumbled over his brown bag and plunged face-first into the sharp corner of the mantel. He fell onto the hearth and gashed his head on the fire poker.
The temperature of the room warmed to normal.
CHAPTER 33
Sheriff Holmes had been the first to charge through the doorway just as the doctor tripped into the mantelpiece and fell to the floor.
Chance was right behind the sheriff and pulled Kat into his arms, her body trembling uncontrollably. "Are you all right?"
"Just scared."
"I'm taking you to the hospital in Benton just to be on the safe side."
"I'm all right. I'm not hurt."
Pointing his weapon downward, the sheriff nudged the doctor's leg. Satisfied, he holstered his gun, knelt by the body, and felt for a pulse. He shook his head. He rose, viewed the debris around the room, and looked at Kat, mystified. "What happened here?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"It looks like a war zone."
"He killed Brianna. He told me as much. He kept calling me by her name. He was insane."
"I knew there was something about the guy I didn't like. He was peculiar and standoffish." The sheriff nodded at Chance. "Why don't you take her home? I'll get her statement in the morning. I'll take over from here."
Chance tried to guide Kat to the door, but she wouldn't move. She said to the sheriff, "Brianna didn't die from carbon monoxide. He didn't put her body in her car that night. Why did you lie?"
Holme
s thought a moment, glanced from Chance to Kat. "Did you ever think you needed to protect one of your own? Turns out he didn't need it. Now, go on home both of you."
"No! Not until you tell me what happened that night."
"Kat," Chance said, "let it go. Right now you need to get out of here."
She shook free from him. "I want to know, Sheriff. Tell me what happened."
"All right. If you must know, I'll tell you." Holmes stepped away from the body. "Seems that evening Tim and Brianna had a whopper of an argument in town. There were witnesses. Later, he went out to her house to talk to her and found her dead. That's when he called me. But before I got there, he'd knocked over a glass on her nightstand. In trying to clean it up, he cut himself and his blood was all over the floor." Holmes paused. "The blood. The witnesses. You put two and two together. It didn't look good. He swore he didn't do it, but I had my doubts. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
"You'll have to explain your actions to the county authorities, Holmes." Chance removed his jacket and slid it over Kat's shoulders. "Come on, Kat." He escorted her outside. "Are you sure you don't need to go to the hospital to get checked out?"
"I'm fine, really. Just shook up."
"You're coming home with me, and I won't take no for an answer."
"I'm all right, really. I just want to go back to Brianna's."
"You shouldn't go back there. You shouldn't be alone."
"I locked myself out of the house. My purse and my cell phone are in there, so are my clothes. Will you help me?"
"Of course I will, but only if you'll stay in my house tonight, in the guest room, of course. I won't push you."
Kat was too weary to argue.
"I'll drive your car and get my truck later."
"No. Just follow me to Brianna's. I'm okay, really."
"Kat, you shouldn't drive after what you've been through."
She got in the driver's seat of the SUV, giving Chance no choice but to do as she'd asked. She turned on the engine and inched along over the pitted road with his headlights blaring behind her like bobbing white discs.
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