Nowhere to Run (Stephanie Carovella)

by Nina D'Angelo

  She handed him a glass, gently clicking hers against his. “I say we forget about Stephanie for tonight. Forget everything and everyone, and just enjoy each other’s company.” she said, meeting his gaze boldly.

  “What the hell,” Ben grumbled, lifting the glass to his mouth and tossing back the cheap champagne, watching Lyn do the same.

  Throwing her empty glass onto the couch beside Ben, she took his guitar from him and gently sat it against the wall. She dropped to her knees in front of him and reached for his belt buckle. “Now, why don’t I help you forget all about Stephanie?” she said, licking her lips.

  Ben’s hand closed over hers and he shook his head. “I can’t,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

  Lyn stared at him, her expression hardening. “Fine, if you want to wallow in self-pity, then go ahead and do that. Just remember what I offered you while you’re lying in your empty bed tonight. Remember that, while you think about your best friend Dominic fucking your precious Stephanie,” she said cruelly.

  Ben opened his eyes. Meeting her gaze, he dropped his hand from hers. She smiled coolly at him, arching an eyebrow and staring back at him inquisitively. Studying her, he realized for the first time Lyn bore more than a passing resemblance to Stephanie.

  Smiling slowly at her, he leaned back on the couch, lifting his own eyebrow in challenge. “So, are you going to fuck me or not, honey?” he drawled.

  ***

  “Ben?”

  Ben lifted his cup of coffee to his lips, taking a sip. He’d always regretted sleeping with Lyn, making her promise the next morning to never tell Stephanie what had happened between them. It hadn’t just been because he didn’t want Stephanie to know, but because he’d felt so damn guilty about using Lyn; he’d thought of Stephanie the whole time. He’d used Lyn to ease the ache of losing the woman he’d always wanted and could never have. He’d used her in an effort to forget the pain of losing her to his best friend.

  It hadn’t worked. The next morning the pain was still fresh and real. He’d tried to forget he’d slept with Lyn. Every time they’d seen each other socially, he’d gone out of his way to avoid her. He’d been relieved when she’d drifted away from their circle of friends after university.

  “Sorry, I was thinking about Lyn,” he apologized when Stephanie spoke his name again. “Man, I haven’t thought of her in years. I remember you two were real close that last year of university. Do you know whatever happened to her?”

  Stephanie nodded, gulping back tears. “She decided to become an actress. She did pretty well for herself,” she paused, giving Ben a rigid smile. “Ben, you should know better than anyone how determined she could be when she wanted something. She certainly wanted you and got you too, I guess.”

  Ben grinned at her jealous tone, pleased after all this time she didn’t like the idea of Lyn sleeping with him. “Babe, I slept with her after we’d just broken up. It was once and I regretted it immediately,” he said gently.

  “I don’t care,” she lied, not sure why the fact Ben had slept with Lyn cut her so deeply.

  Not wanting to dwell on her feelings, she steered the conversation back to Lyn. “Lyn became pretty famous. You guys probably saw her TV show. She was on The Real Thing. Hell, Ben, you probably crossed paths with her on more than one social occasion.”

  She looked down into her coffee mug, taking a sip of her coffee. Savoring the taste of the Columbian flavor, she took another gulp knowing what she would tell them next would freak them out. Placing her coffee cup gently onto the table separating the couches, she said, “Unfortunately for Lyn, things didn’t work out quite the way she planned. A few years ago, after we’d had dinner together, she was attacked. I was the one who found her, lying in a pool of her own blood.”

  “Sweet Jesus, she died?” Jesse asked, speaking for the first time since Stephanie had started talking. He leaned forward, his expression intense, as he waited for her response.

  “You were with her?” Ben asked anxiously, watching Stephanie nod again.

  “Yes. I called the ambulance. She was rushed to Cedars. I guess you could say I helped save her life by being in the right place at the right time,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “Did they ever find him?” Jesse asked suddenly.

  “Find who?” Stephanie asked, playing dumb.

  “Did they find her attacker?” he growled, almost impatiently.

  “Oh no, they had nothing to go on. I only saw him for a moment or two,” she said, absentmindedly playing with a strand of her hair, curling it around her fingers.

  Ben cursed, his concern for Stephanie growing. “You saw her attacker?”

  Stephanie nodded again. “Yes. He was standing over her with the knife. He could have attacked me and left me to die right alongside Lyn, but he didn’t. He just turned and walked away,” she said, choosing to omit the fact he’d spoken her name

  “You mentioned a knife. How was Lyn attacked?” Jesse rasped, paling underneath his Californian tan.

  Stephanie avoided his eyes, knowing where he was going with his question. Leaning back against the couch, she uncurled her legs from beneath her and stretched them. Dropping her eyes to her toes, she said in a low voice, “Her throat was slit.”

  Jesse swore crudely and Ben stood up. He began to pace the living room angrily, stopping in front of Stephanie, “Like Angel?” he asked.

  “Not like Angel. Unlike Angel, he didn’t try to rape and torture her – or at least not then.”

  Ben’s eyes narrowed, his gaze settling on her with trepidation. “What do you mean, at least not then?”

  Stephanie clasped her hands together, licking her lips nervously. “Lyn Jeffreys disappeared off the face of the earth,” she said, shaking her head. “No, she didn’t disappear off the face of the earth. She disappeared to Nice, to be exact.”

  “This was after the attack?” Jesse asked, his fears for Stephanie’s safety intensifying. He had the sinking feeling he knew exactly where she was going with this and he didn’t like it one bit.

  Stephanie nodded. “Yes. She decided she was done with Hollywood and all it had to offer her. She was too scared to go outside her apartment. I couldn’t even convince her to go out for a cup of coffee. She, literally, became housebound.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself, remembering how terrified Lyn had been and how she insisted she was being stalked by the man who attacked her.

  Softly, she said, “It got to the stage where she was even scared of being in her own house. She’d disappear for days at a time to hotels. She was so sure he would attack her again and she no longer felt safe in LA, so she did the only thing she could think of, she fled. She left and went to Europe.

  For a long time she wouldn’t tell anyone where she was, so we kept in touch through emails and phone calls. It took her two years to tell me she was in Nice. By then, she finally seemed free from her own ghosts.”

  She smiled sadly at both Ben and Jesse. “I didn’t think she’d ever come back to the States, but about two months ago she started talking about a comeback. She had an offer from Callendor Studios for a movie deal. She was excited about it.”

  Her voice broke, when she said, “Lyn flew back into L.A the same day I did; we may have just missed each other by minutes. Her naked body was found five days later. She’d been raped, tortured and her throat slit. Just like Angel.”

  Seeing Ben and Jesse’s faces turn from growing concern to shock, she dropped her eyes to her hands again. “When Lyn decided to become an actress, she did what most of the stars do. She revamped herself. She dropped a few pounds, changed her look and then changed her name. The name change wasn’t a big one, mind you. It was just big enough to sound a little more sophisticated than Lyn Jeffreys, but small enough to not forget who she really was.”

  “She became Carolyn Mathers,” Ben finished for her.

  She nodded, the lump in her throat becoming bigger.

  Jesse leaned back on the couch, the realization of what Step
hanie had just told them still on his face. “Sweet Jesus,” he whispered, putting his hands over his face.

  Ben sank down onto the coffee table opposite Stephanie, finding it hard to believe that the young, passionate women he remembered seducing him was now dead. He gave Stephanie a look of alarm, comprehending what she’d just told him.

  His voice was hoarse when he spoke. “My God, Stephanie, Lyn was tortured and raped too?”

  “Yes,” Stephanie whispered.

  Ben shifted from where he sat on the table to sink down onto the couch beside her. She slipped her hand into his, lacing their fingers together.

  “Gena and I believe whoever killed Lyn also killed Angel,” she said quietly, “And, we don’t believe it’s a coincidence.”

  “You discussed this with Gena?” Jesse asked, tensing in anger.

  “Yes, she approached me. She knew Carolyn was Lyn, but needed absolute proof. I provided it by going with her to the morgue and identifying Lyn.”

  Jesse let out a string of curses, making her wince and Ben grinned. “Damn, Gena. She told me she didn’t want you involved, and what does she do? She drops you right into this mess and puts you into the path of danger.”

  Stephanie scowled fiercely at Jesse, saying angrily, “Jess, you know we all went to university together and she needed to know for sure; I was the best person to ask. It’s not like she twisted my arm.”

  Jesse ignored her, still furious with Gena. He stood up and walked to the fireplace mantel, absentmindedly noticing a photo of Stephanie was missing. He turned back to Stephanie with a grimace. “How did Gena know?” he asked sharply.

  “Know what Jesse?” Ben asked tiredly.

  “How did she know Carolyn Mathers and Angel were both killed by the same man?” Jesse pressed, his unwavering gaze not leaving Stephanie’s.

  “There was a photo,” she admitted, almost wincing in anticipation at the explosion she knew wasn’t far off.

  “There was a photo?” Jesse echoed, his voice dropping to arctic temperatures.

  “Look, Jess, it’s not a huge deal but when Carolyn died, a scrapbook was found with her body. In it was a photo of Angel and Lyn together. It was a shot of all of us taken on the night of our graduation.” She shrugged nonchalantly. “It didn’t take her long to put two and two together and figure out it was purposely put there. Their killer wanted her to connect the two murders together.”

  Ben’s eyes darkened with fury. “Are you talking about the photo you all have? The one you keep on your bedside table? The one Angel kept by hers?” he demanded, his voice hardening in anger.

  Stephanie put her hand on Ben’s arm in attempt to calm him. Gently, she said, “We believe the killer stole the photo from Angel’s house and put it inside the scrapbook. It was his way of getting Gena’s attention.”

  She winced when Ben let out a string of his own curses, shaking her hand off his arm. Jesse snorted in disbelief.

  “Damn it Stephanie, you don’t get it do you?” Jesse spat, his body tense, with a fury he could barely contain. “This guy had a photo of Gena, Lyn, Angel and you together. He knows you. If he’s the same guy who originally attacked Lyn, then he saw you. He knows that. Hell, Stephanie did you ever think for a second you could be god damn next?” He looked at her in disbelief. “You could be next on this asshole’s hit list.”

  He stopped, seeing Stephanie’s calm look, and stared at her dumbfounded. “You’ve already guessed that, haven’t you?” It took him a few minutes before he could finish his train of thought, the words tumbling from his lips. “Sweet Jesus, you want him to come after you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Gena stood outside Jesse’s house, staring at the hard red oak door. She raised her hand to knock, pausing midway. Dropping her hand to her side, she pressed her forehead against the front door.

  “Gena, you know you have to do this,” Jase said softly. He stopped and corrected himself, slipping his hand into hers. “We need to do this.”

  Jase sympathized with what Gena was going through. He knew from experience the battle of emotions that raged through her. He’d lost count of the many times he’d stood in front of someone’s door, psyching himself up to tell them their loved ones were dead. As a Police Officer it was never easy, but it was even harder as a Homicide Detective. There was never any easy way to tell someone their daughter, son, father or mother had been murdered. It was even harder when you knew the victim, when you knew their family and friends.

  He didn’t envy her position, although he knew he was just as close to the situation. He tried to imagine how hard it would have been to tell Angel, Ana was dead and knew the pain and heartache would have devastated her. It would have killed him to see her in that much pain.

  He blinked back tears, the impact of his loss still fresh. He’d loved Angel in the short time they’d been together. He’d loved her as much as he was capable of loving someone. He still loved her and he would until the day he died.

  “You’re right, Jase. This is just too God damn hard. They’ve been through so much already, losing Angel,” Gena said brokenly, interrupting his thoughts. Removing her hand from him, she said bitterly, “We’ve all been through so damn much.”

  Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand again and knocked firmly on the front door. She was still shaken from the night’s events and they had spent endless hours at the Precinct.

  Repeatedly they’d answered the same questions about Ana’s murder and how they had both known her. First, they’d been interviewed separately and then placed in the same room together. Detective Delucci had finally seemed satisfied with their answers and started asking questions about Carolyn Mathers’ murder.

  Gena spent hours with Jase and Delucci, divulging every little detail she knew about Angel and Carolyn’s crime scenes. She’d repeatedly explained her thoughts on both cases and the connection between the two murders, omitting the fact she’d come to the conclusions with Stephanie. The questioning had turned to why Ana was killed and it had been one she still couldn’t answer. The only thought springing to mind was that Ana had been killed to send a message; to let her know that the killer had the upper hand.

  Delucci had shot question after question at her, until her head was spinning and it felt like her eyeballs were on fire. When he’d started questioning her about the bloodied message, Jase intervened. He’d suggested calling it a night, and starting over tomorrow. Delucci had grudgingly agreed, seeing the hard glare Jase had given him when he’d opened his mouth to protest.

  Gena was grateful to Jase for that. She wasn’t ready to discuss the blooded message, not until she could go over it herself in her mind or, she mentally added, until she could show the message and the crime scene photos that she’d taken on her cell to Stephanie. She knew it was breaking every protocol in the book, but she needed Stephanie’s eyes to see what she couldn’t.

  She jerked her head up when Jesse opened the door.

  “Gena, it’s late,” he began, stopping when he saw the unmasked pain on her face. “What’s happened?” he asked abruptly.

  “I’m sorry Jess. I know it’s late, but this just couldn’t wait until the morning,” she said, stumbling over her words.

  Jesse noticed Jase, instantly dismissing him. He took in Gena’s shaken appearance, frowning at the cracks in her composure. Usually she was so strong, so stoic. Something had hit her hard. He paled, a million possibilities running through his mind.

  “Gena, you know you’re welcome here, anytime,” he said quietly, not letting her see how her crumpled appearance was affecting him. He opened the door wider, indicating with his hand for them to enter. “Besides, we were already awake. Stephanie had a nightmare.”

  Looking at Gena again, he added curtly, “She just finished telling us about Carolyn Mathers.”

  “You’re congregated together just because she had a nightmare?” Jase quizzed, arching an eyebrow in disbelief.

  Gena cursed underneath her breath, suddenly feeling guilty for th
e grief she was about to cause them all. Comprehension hit her, when she realized what Jesse had just said, and she looked at him sharply. “She had a nightmare? I didn’t realize she still had them.”

  Jesse scowled fiercely. “She hasn’t had them for a while, but they’re back in full force. Her screaming woke us all up.” Touching his bruised jaw, he growled. “She’s still got one hell of a right hook.”

  Gena’s eyes went to the discolored bruising near Jesse’s mouth. She remembered the many sleepless nights spent consoling Stephanie after she’d woken her up screaming.

  Lifting a shaking hand up to gently touch the bruise on his jaw, she was unable to keep the tremble out of her voice. “I’m glad you’re all awake. I need you all together for the news I have to share with you.”

  Jesse opened his mouth to question her, but she moved her two fingers to his mouth, shaking her head emphatically. “Not here Jesse, please not here. This isn’t easy for me. I can’t do it now. Please, I want you all together.”

  Jesse nodded, watching Gena give him a weak smile. His gut twisted. The sight of Gena struggling to hold back tears sent shivers of terror down his spine. He took her fingers away from his mouth, brushing his lips across her knuckles before he let her hand go. Opening the front door wider, he let them inside and, his heart pounding, he followed them down the hallway, struggling to remain calm. He had never seen Gena this distressed; even at Angel’s funeral she’d kept her head. Yet here she was, struggling to keep herself in one piece.

  “Stephanie has nightmares?” Jase whispered to Gena, underneath his breath.

  “For about as long as I’ve known her, she’s had them. She used to bring the house down with her screaming. It’s why she doesn’t sleep much,” she whispered back. Quickly rubbing her eyes with the back of one hand, she wiped away the tears suddenly filling her eyes. “And Jase, I’ve brought the nightmares back. You heard Jesse. She hadn’t had them for a while and now I’ve brought them back to her again.”

  Jase placed his hand to the middle of her back and rubbed soothingly. He chided, “You can’t blame yourself. She obviously has had them for a long time. Anything could have triggered them.”