by Ines Saint
“Hi, Gracie. It’s Maya—Hope’s executive assistant,” she explained.
Gracie sat up. “Maya, yes, Hope’s told us about you. How can I help you?”
“Well, Hope appears to be in the middle of some sort of episode. It looks like she’s asleep, but she’s walking around and yelling. I tried your grandmother, but the call went straight to voice mail.”
Gracie shot up. “Oh my gosh. I’ll be right there.”
“Can I keep you on the phone? I’m just following her around, but I need guidance on what to do because she cries out sometimes, and she tried to climb on a desk to sleep and she fell off, but no matter what I do, I can’t wake her up.”
“Yes, please, keep me on the line,” Gracie said, stuffing her gear into her briefcase. She turned to the man tending the counter. “I’m supposed to be meeting someone here in fifteen minutes. Please tell them I had an emergency and had to leave!” With that, she ran out the door, across the street, and tore through the garage until she got to her car, which thankfully was close by because the entire garage was empty. All the while Maya narrated what Hope was doing. Gracie’s best guess was that Hope had fallen asleep at work and started sleepwalking.
The moment she opened the door to her car, a hot, painful bolt pulsated throughout her suddenly very rigid body. Gracie folded to the ground and someone hauled her up and dragged her onto the seat of her car, while thousands of needles prickled her skin. Unable to move a muscle and feeling fuzzy and dazed, Gracie struggled to grasp what was happening. All she could think of was that she had to get to Hope.
After what felt like an eternity, her mind began to clear and she regained control of some muscles. She tried to reach for the stun gun next to her, but it was removed before she could even touch it. “Why?” Gracie moaned. And was zapped again.
“Why? Because I have to choose between you and me, and I choose me.”
* * *
Josh went around the room, exchanging ideas, answering questions, and thanking people for their support, grateful that he didn’t feel like a politician. He was passionate about his career and being himself was enough to engage people. The church’s large meeting room was packed with private citizens, victims he’d represented in the past, law enforcement officials from local police departments and the county’s sheriff’s office, victims’ advocates he’d worked with, people he played sports with, and more. The appetizers, punch, and desserts had turned out great and people were talking among themselves. There was optimism for his candidacy, and he couldn’t have asked for a better kickoff event. But sometime after seven, he caught sight of Alex looking grave at the door, and he quickly made his way over.
“Your phone is going directly to voice mail” was the first thing he said.
Josh dug his phone out of his pocket and swore under his breath. The meeting room was in a basement and the signal was low, but it still should’ve been enough. “Did you learn anything?” he asked, even though he knew the answer. Alex wouldn’t have left Lester if he hadn’t.
Alex walked him over to a secluded spot and showed him a picture. Josh’s eyes widened. “That’s William Konitz,” Josh said.
Alex nodded. “I looked him up when you mentioned him. He and Lester met at an abandoned roadside gas station on a lonely stretch of Xenia Road about an hour ago. Konitz handed Lester an envelope—payment, most likely—and they appeared to be arguing. When Konitz left, I tailed him. He went directly to 3041 Winter Drive, Centerville. I ran it, and he owns it.”
Josh pushed a hand through his hair. “This basically confirms what we already know, but at least now we have something to confront him with and I don’t have to get Linda involved.” But he was as frustrated as he’d ever felt because he wanted to leave right then and there to do it.
They were quiet a moment, while Josh considered the wisdom of leaving his own kickoff event. Alex gestured with his chin toward someone behind him and Josh turned to see Jamar and Fasika walking purposefully toward them. Josh managed to smile at Fasika, but Jamar and the older man didn’t smile back.
“Tell him what you told me,” Jamar encouraged their friend when they reached him.
Fasika nodded and turned to Josh. “I was explaining to Jamar that I am here to support you, and that I canceled Miss Foster’s event at my restaurant because I learned something about her I did not like.” Josh nodded encouragingly, anxious to hear what he had to say. “I was calling acquaintances to tell them about the meet and greet when one gentleman, who works as a roofer, told me he could not support Miss Foster. He explained that six years ago, when Miss Foster worked as a prosecutor in Greene County, he and other immigrants sued Mr. Max Parker of Parker Industries for unpaid hours and unsafe working conditions at a new development he was building in Jamestown. He said Miss Foster refused to file charges even though they had plenty of evidence against Parker Industries. Eventually, someone died at the worksite as a result of the conditions and the family sued, but Miss Foster again did not file criminal charges, citing insufficient evidence that Parker was responsible for the death.”
As Fasika spoke, an intense anger built inside Josh. “Did he say who represented Max Parker in those lawsuits?” Josh asked.
Fasika nodded. “William Konitz.”
Josh thanked Fasika, told him they’d talk again later, and left, fury tearing through him. He raced up the stairs and out of the building, Alex and Jamar on his heels. They didn’t have anything on Rachel yet except hearsay and conjecture, but Josh wouldn’t wait. Konitz had to be confronted. Even if all they had on him was surveillance linking him to Lester, and Lester to the video of him and Gracie. If they threatened to release both to the press, Konitz would at least know he was cornered.
* * *
Gracie was fully conscious, but she couldn’t move a muscle, not even her eyes. They were staring at the cement wall in front of her car. But she could hear both the plans Rachel was making for her staged suicide and the screaming inside her head.
“You know, I’ll admit I wasn’t sure I could do this, that I’d be too fearful of being caught,” Rachel said as she typed away at Gracie’s computer. “But I’ve witnessed enough trials to know exactly how and why people get caught committing crimes.” She paused in her typing and looked at Gracie again. “I’ve also seen how smart people get away with it. The moment Lester told me your sister Hope seemed to have some sort of severe sleep walking condition, a last-ditch plan came to me. All I needed to do was make sure you were alone when I called pretending to be someone who knew Hope and then use her condition to lure you to a lonely place. Getting her assistant’s name was easy. Everything else involved taking simple precautions.”
Gracie’s phone rang then. “Aww, look at that,” Rachel said as she looked down at the screen. “Josh calling you just as you’re killing yourself over him.”
She picked up Gracie’s phone, turned it off, and started tapping away on Gracie’s computer again. The woman was clearly a psychopath. “I think the meeting with Judge Marsh finally pushed you over the edge,” she said. “You know, because you and Josh were in love all those years ago, but you weren’t allowed to tell the world. Josh made you believe you were star-crossed lovers, and that’s why you left, but now that you’re back and were asked to lie once again to protect him, you thought you could finally be together, but Josh only asked you to wait again. Finally, you realized he never really loved you. How does that sound to you, Gracie?” Rachel asked, suddenly angry. She yanked Gracie’s hair to turn her face to look at her before letting her go. Gracie’s head fell forward and she was now staring at the R below the gear stick. Helplessness made her feel frantic, and she feared she’d go mad.
“Stupid pink hair. And now you look as stupid as you are. That’s what thirty seconds of ninety-thousand bolts feels like. A gunshot wound to the temple probably hurts, too. You’ll feel it soon enough. I’m almost done.”
Gracie’s thumb muscle began to spasm and she desperately focused all her mental energy on it, wil
ling it to stop. Every time one of her muscles jumped, she was hit with the stun gun again. She thought about those moms who jumped over cars in order to save their little ones; if they could do that, she could keep her muscles from twitching until she gained enough movement to do something. Anything. Thoughts of Hope, and how wretched she’d become if she learned her somnambulance had been used to lure Gracie to her death, helped her find the mental energy to exert control. Her mind became so hyperfocused, she could feel the nerve under her muscles signal an oncoming twitch, and she zeroed in on it and willed it to stop.
“There,” Rachel said with one final tap. She turned to Gracie. “You and I are a lot alike, you know. Daughters of addicts who made selfish and weak decisions that ended up affecting us. It’s why people will believe you committed suicide. Because you ended up making mistakes. But people like Josh Goodwin don’t understand how good they’ve had it.” Her jaw clenched and she looked out onto the cement wall, and Gracie hoped she’d keep talking. “They don’t know what it’s like to have a mother with a record who can never find work. They don’t know how cruel people can be. They don’t know how hard the rest of us have to work to get anywhere. They don’t know what it’s like to pile on student debt, and they don’t know what it’s like to have to make hard decisions to get rid of that debt, to be able to keep moving forward. I’m not losing my license, my living, and my whole future over it. And I’m tired of playing it safe. Konitz has gotten exactly nowhere with his stupid plans. But that’s because he only stands to lose his license, and he’s got plenty of money to live on if he does. The stakes for me are higher, and Konitz’s plans have actually gotten Josh closer to being elected.” She blew out a harsh breath. “Did you see the polls this morning? Maybe they’re in cahoots. But once you kill yourself over Josh’s cruelty, Lady Luck will run out on Josh. He’ll lose. No doubt.”
Rachel looked over at Gracie, realized she couldn’t respond, and shrugged. “Never mind,” she said as she turned to place Gracie’s open laptop on the backseat. Gracie felt she had gained just enough energy and control to make slight movements, but she had to gather enough power and she had to make it count. Before Rachel could turn back, she grabbed the stick shift, pulled it back to reverse, and slipped her right foot onto the gas pedal. The car instantly zoomed backward and hit a barrier. Gracie was pushed forward, her face squished onto a rough surface. The car alarm went off. Seconds later a loud shot nearly deafened her. Then a second shot rang out and glass shattered. Gracie’s eyes fluttered closed just as she heard one more shot.
When they fluttered open again, she was lying on a hard, cold floor, unable to move, and she was looking up into Josh’s concerned eyes. “Gracie?” he said. But other noises came into sharp focus, too. Sirens, voices, loud and soft. Her face hurt, her head hurt, her body hurt, and her eyes fluttered closed again. “I love you, Gracie” were the last words she heard.
* * *
Josh stood over Gracie’s hospital bed. She’d be all right. Rachel was in custody, William Konitz, Lester Shelton, and Max Parker were being questioned, and that was all that mattered.
“Staring at her won’t make her wake up. Trust me.” Paige came up behind him.
“Paige has experience. Apparently, two of the Piper sisters attract gunshots and hospitals,” Hope explained.
He smiled as much as he was able to because he appreciated Paige and Hope’s support, especially when they’d been nearly hysterical only hours before.
“At least the right person was shot this time,” Paige said, her tone unforgiving. “You and your friend got there just in time.”
Josh nodded but said, “She saved her own life, though. If she hadn’t crashed her car . . .” She had also saved his sanity. He would’ve gone mad if anything had happened to brave, sweet, smart Gracie.
Jamar came in then, followed by two police officers who led them outside, one by one, to take their statements. Josh sat down and lowered his head, needing to compose himself and get his facts straight in his head before speaking. Reliving the horrifying moments produced a level of anxiety he’d never before experienced.
The moment he, Jamar, and Alex had rushed outside the church, Josh had fished out his phone to call Gracie and saw she had left him a voice mail, saying, “Please keep Rachel in mind. I just saw something I think links her to everything. Call me when you get a chance, and I’ll explain. ’Bye.” Josh had tried calling her back, but she didn’t answer. What had she seen? Had it put her in danger? His panic at not being able to reach her had revealed to him the depth of his feelings for her at the worst possible moment. Josh and Jamar had raced to the diner in case Gracie was still there, and they kept trying to call her, but she didn’t pick up.
Josh had bolted out of the car before Jamar could park, asked the diner’s server about Gracie, and learned she’d run out across the street to the parking garage, holding her phone and yelling something about an emergency, about fifteen minutes before. Heart in throat and desperation rising, Josh had taken off across the street to the parking garage. Fifteen minutes could have taken her anywhere.
And then they’d heard the crash and the alarm, but Josh couldn’t remember running toward it. One moment he’d heard the sound, the next he was at the site of the crash, watching as Rachel shot an airbag that was engulfing her. When she turned her gun on Gracie, Josh steeled himself and acted. He pulled his gun, moved to where he wouldn’t hit Gracie, aimed, and fired. The back window shattered. Then he moved and fired again, hitting Rachel’s forearm. Everything that happened next was a blur. Jamar rushed to pull Gracie out of the car, Rachel opened the car door and fell out, writhing and screaming in pain, and Josh came over to hold her at gunpoint. He’d felt about ready to jump out of his skin, so desperate he was to go to Gracie. But he’d kept his mind on doing what needed to be done to keep her safe until Alex arrived.
Later, they’d found a suicide note typed on Gracie’s laptop—a note that had chilled Josh to his core. It was pure evil. How could Rachel have deceived them all? They’d also seized a stun gun and an unregistered gun. Rachel was wearing gloves, a scarf, and a hairnet underneath a hat. They also noted the security camera near Gracie’s car had been tampered with. He shook his head, not sure he’d ever get over it.
As a prosecutor, though, he knew he needed to be precise and consistent when he gave his statement. With that purpose in mind, he pushed his feelings aside and began an unemotional, detailed account of the events leading up to Rachel’s arrest.
When he was done, he went back to spend the night by Gracie’s side, feeling thankful for every breath he watched her take.
* * *
The next day, Gracie was home and feeling better than expected. She was alive, after all. Police officers were taking another statement from her in case she remembered anything new. They let Josh and her family stay, but Josh couldn’t seem to let go of her hand. As supportive as he was trying to be, his hand was cold, and when she spoke about being continuously stunned and her efforts to control herself to be able to make a move, he’d gripped her hand tighter.
“Josh was right,” Gracie continued. “The fact that he and I were in the news again because of Mrs. Wolf’s nonprofit set her off. Rachel kept talking to me as she typed, and she told me that when she was called for her reaction about the nonprofit, she knew she had to do something drastic. She already knew I was meeting a few people downtown; all she had to do was pretend to be me and cancel Deputy Hernandez’s appointment while I was interviewing Judge Marsh, and then lure me out to the garage by pretending to be Hope’s assistant.”
Hope looked like she could kill. Lester Shelton had been watching them long enough to learn about Hope’s sleepwalking, and Rachel had used it to bait Gracie.
Gracie was relieved to learn that Rachel was in custody, and that the only words she’d spoken had been to implicate William Konitz and Max Parker. The story so far was that Parker had bribed Rachel years before, when she’d worked in an adjacent county, and William had been
the intermediary. Parker had evidence and had now been blackmailing them both. He’d wanted them to make sure Rachel won the election so she could drop the charges against him. “Did you find the flash drive I told you about?” she wanted to know. “It’s what made me suspect Rachel, so it helped save me.” She couldn’t wait to tell Judge Marsh about it. “Come to think of it, Clyde Cupcake helped, too. Thinking about what happened to him was what made me call Josh. He and Jamar got there just in time.”
“We found it,” an officer said. “And never forget you helped save yourself. How you managed to shift gears and put your foot on the gas pedal after being stunned so many times, and with that many volts, we’ll never know.”
Later, when the police officers left and her grandmother and sisters took the hint to finally leave her and Josh alone, she turned to him and said what she’d wanted to say all along.
“Josh? I love you, too,” she said, simply happy to be alive.
He hesitated. He wanted to believe her, but it was like having his cookie and eating it, too. It didn’t seem possible that one person could be so fortunate. To have always lived a good life, to have everything he wanted, including a woman he loved beyond all reason? “You think you do now, maybe, but—”
“What?” she demanded, sitting up straight and showing remarkable resiliency. She’d only been released from the hospital hours before. “You think you know my own mind and heart better than I do?” She got up, looking beyond frustrated. “You know what? Maybe you do, because maybe you know you’ll never stop treating me like a child just because you have seven years on me, and you know I won’t take it.”
“Settle down. You were almost murdered less than twenty-four hours ago.” He got up, too, and put his hands on her shoulders, upset that he was upsetting her. “It’s not that I think I know better than you. I don’t. You lived through difficult things, from a very early age, that I will never live. When we first met, already you were deeper than me and knew more about life than I did. I may never catch up to you. But when it comes to relationships, and your lack of experience there, I’m afraid, okay? I admit I’m afraid. I know I’ve never loved anyone before you and that I’ll never love anyone like this again. But if in a few years you wake up and realize you didn’t have enough experience to know what you wanted in a man and you leave me—I’m scared of that. And I’m scared of having you resent me.”