He leaned against his armrest, perfectly at ease. “When I turned thirty, Mom and I were living in Phoenix. The women I met there, well, they were low class. I decided to start over in a clean place. That’s the special thing about this birthday, Joni. It’s a chance to make a fresh start. With me.”
She didn’t want a fresh start; she wanted to get away from him. How could he possibly fantasize a future together after he’d murdered two people?
She didn’t want to antagonize him. The best thing would be to keep him talking, and maybe Celia would come home. Or Dirk.
An image formed in her mind, of Dirk’s dark head bending over her, his blue eyes bright with concern. It steadied her.
“After we left Phoenix,” Fred went on, “we tried L.A., but I didn’t like it. Nothing but trash. I needed a small town where you can really get to know people. So we drove up the coast. Mom fell in love with this place and so did L”
His fingers stroked her wrist. With all her strength, Joni resisted the urge to snatch her hand away.
“When I met Kathryn, I thought at first I’d found the right woman,” he said. “She seemed like such a nice widow lady with a little boy.”
“Bobby isn’t your son?” Joni wasn’t sure why that made a difference. But neither Fred nor Kathryn had mentioned the fact in the three years she’d known them, which meant he must have wanted it kept secnet.
He liked to play roles, she realized. He liked to hide who he really was. It must give him a sense of superiority; it certainly had enabled him to fool people.
“At first, I had fun playing with the little boy, but now that he’s getting older, he’s annoying. Whiny, like his mother,” Fred said. “Besides, Jeffs a better soccer player. He’s more athletic. Like me.”
In your dreann!
“When I met you, I knew I’d found the right girl” Fred leaned over, and his breath whispered across her neck. Joni gritted her teeth to keep from flinching. “More beautiful, more intelligent. You were married then, but I could see you weren’t happy. It was just a question of time.”
For three years he’d been stalking her, at least in his mind. Pretending to be her friend. Spending time with her son, giving her advice.
Lowell had come to her house, his last night on earth, to try to catch her stalker. Had he been able to see, in the moments before he died, that it was Fred? How terrible for him, not even to be able to warn her. She had to stop tormenting herself. She had to figure out what to do.
“Lowell was a selfish, low-class jerk,” Fred said. “Aren’t you glad I protected you from him after the way he treated you? And Kim DeLong. She deserved what she got.”
He had killed Kim out of some misplaced sense of loyalty to Joni? She bit her lip in dismay. But she had to concentrate on keeping the man talking while she formulated a plan.
“Why didn’t you leave your wife?” she asked. “Why didn’t you simply tell me how you felt?”
He blinked as if the thought had never occurred to him. “What difference does it make? We’re here now, aren’t we? Just the two of us.”
He seemed awfully certain that Dirk wouldn’t show up. What if Fred had done something to him?
A vise clamped across Joni’s chest. She had to find out even if it angered the man. “But you know my brother-in-law has been staying here.”
“He left,” Fred said. “I saw him go back to his old home. That was a wise decision, Joni. I’m glad you threw him out.”
So Fred had been spying on Dirk today. He must have seen him going to show the estate to buyers, she thought, and tried to hide her relief.
Dirk was safe. But he might be working late or stuck in traffic. For all she knew, he might still believe Charlie was in custody.
Fred’s fingers crept up her cheek and brushed back some loose strands of hair. Fear and disgust made Joni start to shake.
“Are you cold, darling?” he whispered. “We should go inside.”
She remembered the security system. The alarm was wired to the police station as well as rigged for earsplitting loudness. If she opened the door and punched in the wrong code, it would sound in—how long? A minute? Would people realize it wasn’t a false alarm? How long would it take the police to get here?
As soon as it went off, Fred would know that she’d tricked him. Before it sounded, she would have to find some excuse to walk toward the utility room, then dash out the back door. But after that?
She couldn’t think that far ahead. It was useless to worry; she just had to act.
“I guess I did get chilled,” she said. “You’re right. We should go in.”
Fred grinned as if she’d given him the most wonderful present of his life. Or was about to.
DIRK WAS INCHING HIS CAR past the high school when his cell phone rang. He snatched it from his pocket. “Peterson here.”
“MacDougall.” Red taillights flashed ahead, and Dirk tapped the brakes. “The watch commander filled me in. You think she’s with Owens?”
“I know she is.” He relayed what he’d learned from Herb.
“Sergeant Cruz ran a check,” the detective said. “Allen Frederick Owens has a dishonorable discharge from the marines and a couple of convictions in Arizona for assault and battery. He’s also wanted for murder.”
“A woman?”
“Ex-girlfriend. Or at least she was trying to leave.” MacDougall uttered a curse. “He’s had us chasing our tails all over town. I’ve been talking to some of Mrs. DeLong’s friends and my car’s stuck in the mud out near the country club. Any idea where he might take her?”
Dirk had instinctively driven toward Canyon Acres. “He seems to want to stake his claim, not kill her. If I’m right, he’ll head for her house. Does your department have a helicopter?”
“Are you kidding?” MacDougall said. “Even if we did, it couldn’t fly in this weather. I’ll radio for a patrol car ASAP.”
Unless there was one already in the vicinity, Dirk doubted it could get there ahead of him. “Do what you can.”
“I will,” the detective said. “Believe me.”
As he clicked off, Dirk mulled over the discovery that Fred had killed his former girlfriend when they split up. It jibed with what police-science classes taught about spousal abusers.
He felt almost certain that Fred’s intent was to claim Joni, not hurt her. The man wouldn’t want to destroy the object of his obsession unless she rejected him.
But once she did, he would go after her with a vengeance.
FRED HELD AN UMBRELLA over Joni as they approached the front door. He had the bucket of chicken beneath the other arm.
She contemplated ditching the drinks and food sacks and making a run for it, but he was too close. The moment she tensed for action, he would notice.
Had everyone on the block already come home from work? Wasn’t anyone giving a Halloween party? If only a car would turn onto the street, she could take the risk of running.
“You shouldn’t have let Dirk stay with you,” Fred said out of the blue. “That was wrong, Joni.”
They reached the overhang. Setting the drinks on the porch, she fished out her key. “I didn’t know who killed Lowell. I thought I needed protection.”
“Did he touch you?” Fred closed the umbrella and set it aside. “Did you let him kiss you, Joni?”
Slimy, that was how this man made her feel. He ought to be crawling around in the garden with the rest of the slugs. Yet her life depended on placating him.
“Dirk’s too much of a workaholic,” she said. “I prefer a family man, like you.”
Fred beamed. How could he be stupid enough to believe her? But he was hearing what he’d waited three years to hear.
“We belong together,” he oozed. “Not here in this town. Too many gossips. We could go south. Mexico, maybe. Jeff would like that, don’t you think?”
“Sure.” She opened the door and went to the keypad. The code she’d chosen, a number she wasn’t likely to forget but that didn’t show up in her walle
t, was Herb’s birthday. Beneath Fred’s gaze, she tapped in the date of Jeff’s birthday.
Or was she mixed up? Maybe she’d intended to set Herb’s birthday but instinctively used Jeff’s. Suddenly Joni wasn’t sure. She’d been so rattled about Kim’s murder yesterday that she hadn’t even set the alarm when she left for soccer practice, so she’d never had to deactivate it before. She could only hope now that she’d correctly punched in the wrong code.
Otherwise she’d be fleeing out the back with no alarm to summon help. Fred would have all the time in the world to hunt her down. He knew the woods better than she did. Obviously, he also felt comfortable scurrying around in the dark. But then, vermin usually did.
Behind her, he picked up the tray of drinks. Joni was about to cut through the den when it occurred to her that Dirk might have left some possessions in sight.
Instead, she went by the living room. Never mind that she was tracking mud onto the carpet Nothing mattered except keeping a bright smile on her face while she dumped the food sacks onto the counter and moved toward the utility room.
“Where are you going?” Fred unloaded the drinks and the chicken.
“To get a sweater,” she said as she went around the corner. “And change my shoes.” Kicking off the heels with a thump, she stepped into her canvas slip-ons.
Then she threw open the back door and ran as if the hounds of hell were after her.
THIS WAS A NIGHTMARE come to life, Dirk thought as traffic stopped ahead of him. He couldn’t be more than a quarter of a mile from the turnoff and yet he was idling in place.
He shouldn’t have accepted Charlie’s guilt so readily. He should have insisted on staying with Joni. But blaming himself was useless. A tubby, middle-aged soccer dad had played them all for fools. So what was he going to do about it?
Gripping the wheel, Dirk studied the terrain.
The road had no shoulder, only a streaming gutter that separated it from a medium-high curb. There were no pedestrians in sight and, in this weather, little danger of encountering any.
He gauged the height of the curb and was grateful that, out of habit, he’d chosen a heavy rental car. It ought to be able to handle a steep tilt without flipping.
Time for a little offensive driving.
OPERATING ON INSTINCT, Joni turned left and scrambled toward Celia’s house. Somewhere down the block, somebody had to be home.
Rain streamed down her face, making it hard to see more than a few feet ahead. Her slip-ons squelched and sucked in the mud, and her skirt clung to her thighs.
Where was Fred? She couldn’t hear him and she didn’t dare turn around to look.
Behind her, the alarm went off with a shocking blare. She stumbled, grabbed at a post and felt splinters rip her palm. It stung but she scarcely minded. She wasn’t cold anymore, either. Nothing existed except this blind need to keep going.
A slope dropped before her, not long but very slick, and she lost her balance on the rim. Out of control, Joni plunged into Celia’s backyard. She jolted down onto her hands, scraping her knees and twisting one leg. When she tried to straighten, pain shot through her calf.
“Joni!” It was Fred, some distance away. “Come back here!”
He was still in her yard. Maybe he hadn’t seen her tumble.
She forced herself to stand, despite the stabbing in her leg. It was a muscle cramp, she told herself. She just needed to work it out.
If only Celia kept a key hidden somewhere...but there wasn’t time to look. Fred would be searching this way any minute.
Unable to move at more than a hobble, Joni pressed close to the trees that divided the two properties. If she edged uphill, maybe she could circle around in the near-zero visibility and get back into her own house.
It wasn’t much of a plan. Even with an injured leg, it would be difficult to climb the slope, cut across it and work her way down. She was as likely to run into Fred as to escape him.
Still it was a chance. Once indoors, she could lock him out. She could find a weapon.
The clanging bell formed a steady throb in her mind. Joni prayed that someone would hear it and that the police wouldn’t disregard the alarm at their end.
She couldn’t trust her life to luck. Despite the throbbing in her leg, she started upward.
DIRK BRACED AS HE TOOK the curb, half-expecting the air bag to inflate at the shock. It stayed mercifully in place.
The car’s suspension and tires might never be the same again, he reflected as he eased forward at a pronounced tilt, but the steering didn’t appear to be affected. Repressing an impulse to hit the gas, he drove at a slowly accelerating pace past the clot of cars.
Someone honked, but he ignored it. If the police noticed, so much the better.
Gravity did its best to pull him sideways, and water spewed from beneath the left tire. Holding his body rigid, Dirk concentrated on watching for obstacles ahead. Even so, he didn’t see the cross street in time to brake. The car overshot the curb, crunched downward, caught its chassis on the raised concrete and then scraped free with a bone-rattling thud.
Dirk veered right. The rain hid the street sign, but this should be the entrance to Joni’s development. He hoped he was right. If not, he might have just taken a fatal wrong turn.
Chapter Seventeen
Joni crouched among the trees, afraid to venture onto the low brush of the slope. Despite the darkness and heavy rain, she felt as if Fred would surely spot her.
Water dripped from her hair and clothing, and her fingers were going numb. The fall into Celia’s yard had jolted her ribs and set them aching again. She hadn’t, she realized, fully healed from her encounter with this maniac a week ago.
Only a week? It felt as if a lifetime had gone by.
Below her, a thump and a string of curses, barely audible over the alarm bell, revealed that he, too, had slid into Celia’s yard. That meant her patio was clear. Unless, of course, he decided to turn back.
She had to make a run for it. Now.
Fighting a gust of wind, Joni staggered onto the open slope. She felt exposed, even though there was no reason to believe Fred could see her through the downpour any more than she could see him.
Losing her footing, she grabbed a bush, then felt sharp leaves cut her already lacerated palm. Tears sprang to her eyes, but she ignored them and kept angling downward. If only her feet didn’t nearly pull loose from the slip-ons at every step. If only she had something to hold on to. If only she knew where Fred was.
Again she skidded, this time landing hard on her backside. Her skirt pulled up, and burrs stuck to her thighs. With rain sluicing down her face, she could barely make out the pale orb of light that marked the rear door below.
With a suddenness like a blow, the alarm cut off. Rain swished across the hillside, sounding abnormally loud.
For a terrified moment, Joni thought Fred had gone inside and deactivated the security system. Then she remembered that the bell shut off automatically after five minutes. She missed the jangling. It had aided in covering her movements, although it also helped Fred sneak around undetected.
Had he gone down through Celia’s yard to the next house, hoping to pick up her trail, or was he heading back? Did he have a knife, maybe the one that had killed Kim DeLong?
Was it going to be Joni’s blood on the patio this time?
In her mind, Fred no longer bore any resemblance to the benign father figure she’d sometimes wished Lowell would emulate. The fact that he’d been able to win people’s trust and affection made him seem even more of a monster now.
A new sound made her heart leap. A car, coming up the street. She tensed, praying for the familiar growl of an engine tackling the steepness of her driveway.
It stopped too soon, before Celia’s house. Too far away for the driver to hear her if she screamed, and that would alert Fred to her whereabouts.
Mentally, Joni calculated the rest of her descent. Between her and the patio, nearly invisible in the deluge, lay a stone reta
ining wall, then a four-foot drop to the rose bed. If she fell over it, Fred would hear the crash. Worse, she might be badly injured.
She had to take that risk. Keeping low to the ground, Joni sidled down the hill. Sooner than expected, her foot touched the hard, flat top of the retaining wall. At least she’d found it without falling over.
At this point, she remained virtually invisible although she knew her safety was illusory. She needed to make a run for it. Why wouldn’t her muscles obey? Once she jumped down, Joni knew she would be silhouetted against the porch light. She felt stiff, cold and sore. And terrified.
Last Wednesday night, on this patio, horror had come out of nowhere. She could hardly believe, even now, that it had been Fred who attacked and not some virulent, unknowable force.
If she moved, it might find her again.
Inside the house lay warmth. Civilization. Jeff’s childish world of toys and games. The bed where she and Dirk had made love.
She had to reach it. She had to try.
Into the void, Joni leaped.
WHILE VEERING FROM one street to another, operating largely on instinct, Dirk became aware of an alarm sounding a few blocks away. He wondered if it could be Joni’s and who had set it off. He gave the car more gas, felt it start to hydroplane and forced himself to ease out of the skid.
The noise stopped abruptly. Why?
Dirk cursed aloud as he swung onto her street and saw how dark it was. But not at her house; someone had turned on the interior lights. Also the one on the patio. Near the back edge of the house, a weak glow penetrated the pouring rain.
Could Fred be trying to re-create the scene of Lowell’s murder?
Every fiber of his being shouted at Dirk to gun the motor and race to Joni’s rescue. The impulse warred with his training, which demanded that he assess the situation and form a plan.
Well, he’d better do it in a damn hurry, he thought grimly. Because while he was sitting here deciding on a strategy, he might lose everything that mattered in this life.
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