Nowhere to Run (Stephanie Carovella)

by Nina D'Angelo

  She drew her legs closer to her, wrapping her arms around them and turning to look at Jase, resting her cheek against her knees.

  “They should never have called you damaged goods,” he said softly, tentatively stroking her cheek.

  She smiled bitterly. “Oh, but I was. I was damaged long before I entered university. Watching your parents being tortured to death does that to a person. Maybe they shouldn’t have told me, but I already knew it anyway. God knows my aunt told me enough times growing up.”

  “Jesus, she sounds like a real sweetheart,” Jase muttered.

  Stephanie laughed again. “She didn’t want me living with her, anymore than I wanted to live with her. As soon as I was old enough to support myself, I left and headed back to L.A. I came home.” She trailed her finger in a circular pattern against her jeans leg. “This is home. It’s where I belong. Until recently, I thought it was a place to escape from, but I can’t. Every time I try to leave, I lose a piece of myself. My history is here. I was born here. My parents were murdered here. I moved back here and survived a massacre. I fell in love here. It’s a part of who I am. My friends are here…the few friends I have left.”

  She gave him a half smile. “He brought me back here because he knew it was home for me. In his sick twisted way he felt like he was doing the right thing for me and in an even sicker twist, he sees L.A as the place where we met. To him, it’s where we begun. He knows this is our final dance. There’s nowhere to run, nowhere left to hide. Sooner or later, the game will end.”

  Jase nodded, a lump in his throat. “He stalked Angel the same way,” he whispered, anguish making the words difficult to say.

  Stephanie inclined her head in agreement. “Now, he’s doing the same with me. It’s already begun - the flowers, the photographs, the hang-ups, the little gifts.” She shook her head. “It always comes back to me,” she said bitterly.

  Jase lifted her hand to his mouth, brushing his lips across her knuckles. “I won’t let him hurt you,” he vowed, pressing his forehead to hers.

  “You can’t stop him,” she countered back, closing her eyes tiredly. “Don’t you get it? He could be anyone and nobody knows who he is but me and he knows this. I see him when I close my eyes at night – in my dreams – everywhere. He’s coming for me and there’s not a damn thing you or I can do about it.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Stephanie critically eyed the apartment building from her position across the road. Hidden within the shadows of the alley, she stood silently. Had he done the same? Had he stood here waiting? Had he watched and waited for Ben to leave? How long did he stand here waiting until she was left alone? Was it an hour? Two hours? Or maybe even three?

  She scowled when the buzzing of her phone broke her concentration. Pulling it out from the front left pocket of her red leather jacket, she flipped it open to reveal the caller. Leigh. He had been calling non-stop since the incident in his hotel room. Calls that she refused to answer.

  Her lips curved into a sardonic smile. The incident – could she even call it that? He had attacked her. Touching her bruised cheek in remembrance, she smiled icily. He had ripped and clawed at her clothes like an animal. He’d been in such a rage. In the end she’d managed to get away and knock him out with the hotel room’s phone. She shuddered; refusing to think what would have happened if she hadn’t.

  Staring hard at her iPhone when it began vibrating again, she shook her head in amazement. Did he really think it was that easy? Did he think he could attack her and she’d simply forgive and forget? He’d only confirmed what she’d already known when she walked into the hotel room. They’d been doomed from the start and now they were done for good. The sooner the annulment papers came through, the better as far as she was concerned.

  How the hell had he got her new phone number anyway? She wondered with irritation. Pressing ignore on her phone, she slipped it back into her pocket. Taking a deep breath, she strode across the road, ignoring the blaring horn from a passing 4WD. Not sparing it another glance, she stopped at the stairs of the apartment building.

  Had it really been so easy? Did he just walk into the building or had he planned it? How had he known Ana would be there? Had he known she would be alone, or would Ben have been collateral damage? She fought down the nausea at the thought of what might have happened if Ben had been there that night.

  Walking up the stairs, she fished the keys to Ana’s apartment out of her jeans front pocket. She smiled slowly to herself. She’d taken them while Ben was still sleeping this morning. He hadn’t even stirred when she’d slipped out of his bedroom.

  She smiled gratefully when the Apartment Building’s security door opened and the man exiting held it open for her. Flashing him another quick smile, she walked into the building’s hallways and stopped. Her smile faded. Scanning the interior, she wondered if he had done the same. Did someone open the door for him? Was it really that easy for him to gain access?

  She shook her head in amazement. Even with all the security Ana’s building boasted, she’d still been able to walk in just off the street without any questions asked. The thought troubled her. Slowly, she began to ascend up the stairs to Ana’s apartment, determined to face whatever she would find there.

  ***

  The man parked the 4WD outside the apartment building, the smile on his lips not reaching his eyes. She hadn’t even noticed him. She’d been so preoccupied with getting to her destination, she hadn’t even recognized him.

  Stepping out of the vehicle, he walked towards the apartment. He needed to see her, even if it meant hiding so she couldn’t see him. She was his. He’d worked too damn hard to become a part of her life. He wasn’t going to let her walk away now. What was his, stayed his.

  ***

  Gena glanced up from the files she was reading when Jake strolled into the kitchen. Picking up her coffee cup, she was momentarily distracted by the sight of his half-naked body. She openly ogled him, dropping her eyes quickly back to the file in front of her when Jake caught her staring.

  “Interesting read?” he asked, picking up the coffee pot and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

  “Very,” Jase replied from where he sat opposite Gena at the kitchen table, flashing both Gena and Jake a wolfish grin. Something in his voice made Gena lift up her head again, shifting uncomfortably when she realized he wasn’t talking about the files in front of them.

  Jase rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. “I’ve gone over these files time and time again. How the hell could the police have missed the similarities of each of these murders?” he said, disgusted.

  Gena sighed heavily, not wanting to admit how much the system had failed Stephanie. “To be fair, Jase, the murders were committed in different cities and different states. They didn’t have the sophisticated databases we have now. Not to mention the fact he didn’t stay in the same place. The police couldn’t have known every detail of the murders. The signature, also, wasn’t as distinct as it is now. It was there, but still…” She leaned her elbow on the table, resting her head on her hand. “No wonder she became obsessed.”

  Looking from Jase to Jake, her eyes reflected her distress. “She’s obsessed with finding him. Her obsession scares me. I’m scared it will end with her becoming another of his victims.”

  Jake leaned against the bench, playing his fingers around the rim of his coffee cup. “Gena, she’s already is. She’s just alive and fighting back.” He said quietly. Seeing her annoyed look, he smirked. “Come on Gena, are you telling me you wouldn’t fight back, or be just a little obsessed with finding him? You’re not already obsessed?”

  Shrugging his shoulders, he lifted the coffee cup to his lips, blowing on it softly before he took a sip. “Hell, I’m just putting it out there. I know I would be. I’d want to find out who did this and do everything I could to stop him.”

  Jase nodded in agreement, a mutual look of understanding passing between him and Jake. Quickly looking at Gena, he said softly, “She’s trapped, Gena
. Until he’s caught, she can’t move forward and she’s afraid to go back. She’s living in her own personal hell.”

  His voice dropped to a low murmur, almost afraid to see his next words aloud. “Something she said to me last night hit me hard,” he said, recollecting Stephanie’s words with sadness. “She said she walked away from everything she loved. She said she walked away from Dominic to protect him.”

  Pausing, he swallowed hard. “She left her husband because she was being stalked by this maniac. I think she did everything in her power to protect the people she loved and I think it’s the real reason she left L.A. I also doubt there’s nothing she wouldn’t do to protect you all, even if it means putting a target on her own back. She knows he will come for her and she’s willing to go with him. She’s willing to sacrifice herself, if it means protecting all of you.”

  Jake swore fluently as Jase struggled for composure. “I think this maniac always knew she would never come back unless someone she loved was in pain. I think he killed Angel because he wanted her to come back to him. Once, she was back he had to get her attention, so he killed Carolyn and Ana. It’s like a game between the two of them. She advances, he retreats. She retreats, he advances. It’s nothing more than a dance. Right now, I don’t think he wants to kill her. He loves getting her attention too much. He sees her focus on him as a compliment. He wants her to be proud of him,” Jase bit out.

  ***

  Stephanie stood outside Ana’s apartment, staring at the police tape barricading the front door. Without blinking, she broke through the tape and pushed it aside, sliding the key inside the lock. Twisting it, she opened the door and stepped inside then, closing the door behind her, she pressed her back against it and took a shaky breath.

  This had been Ana’s home. He had come in and played here and he had enjoyed every minute of it. He had turned this warm, loving home into a place of terror – a cold, sterile crime scene. “Come and get me,” she whispered quietly into the silent room.

  Pushing herself away from the door, she flicked on the living room light, not prepared for what she saw. A gasp fell from her lips at the photos all over the walls. Sliding her eyes over the first photos positioned together, she recognized Angel. She bit her lip, acknowledging she was studying a blueprint to Angel’s murder. She swallowed hard. He has taken several different shots.

  There were the before shots – photos of Angel jogging, out to dinner with Jase, shots of her with friends – everyday snapshots. Turning her head slightly, she glanced at the next set of photos – the after shots – Angel tortured. If the L.A.P.D was still unsure these killings were connected, this would leave little doubt in their minds.

  She frowned fiercely. He’d stopped torturing Angel. Midway through, he had stopped – stopped to take photos of Angel in pain. He liked to watch. Was he a photographer? She was positive he’d been at every crime scene in some capacity. Had he watched Gena study each crime scene? She grimaced. Deep inside, she knew he had. The photographs indicated he liked to participate.

  Sidestepping to the next frame of photos, they confirmed her suspicions. He had photographed Gena. He’d watched her working. She stepped back from the photographs, scanning them all quickly. He had watched Gena work every crime scene. She walked to the next wall, knowing it would be another crime scene even before she saw the photos of Carolyn.

  She stepped forward again; leaning over and ripping a photograph from the wall. Horror washed over her. It was a photograph of Dominic, Angel, Jesse, Ben, Gena, and herself. She’d last seen it sitting on Jesse’s fireplace mantel. The knowledge that Angel and Carolyn’s killer could take something so personal left her uneasy.

  She was uneasy at the knowledge the killer was someone who was able to slip in and out of Jesse’s house without raising any questions. The knowledge ate at her. Was it someone they knew? Someone she knew personally? She couldn’t shake the feeling it was. She wondered if this was how he got to them all. Did he weasel himself into his victims lives, get them to trust him and then strike when they least expected it?

  If so, it explained a lot. It explained how Angel had built a fortress around herself, only to be killed within the confinements of her own apartment. Did she let him in? Or did he have a key? She rubbed her eyes tiredly, wondering if she could trust anyone except herself.

  Scanning the walls again, she leaned up and ripped another photo down off the wall. This time it was one of Gena alone. Staring at it, she couldn’t avoid the seed of panic growing deep inside of her She quickly estimated the timeline from Gena’s location. It was taken last night. These photos were recent. She’d bet everything she owned that these photos weren’t here last night. It meant he’d been here recently. He’d come back to leave her his work of art.

  She scowled when her phone vibrated again. Pulling it out of her pocket, she glanced at the screen. It was Leigh again. He wasn’t going to accept it was over; she knew this already. Cursing underneath her breath, she answered the call. “Leigh, what do you want? I’m kind of busy right now.”

  ***

  “Sweet Jesus,” Jesse breathed from the doorway, his face pale. “I asked her to come home. I begged her to come back here. I told her I needed her,” he whispered, gripping the doorframe with one hand.

  Moving into the kitchen, he sank down into a chair next to Gena and asked Jase, “Do you really think this was his plan all along? He wanted her back here?”

  Jase nodded. “Angel was just another casualty for his one obsession,” he said bitterly.

  “Stephanie,” Gena breathed, panic sliding across her face. Directing her question at Jesse, she asked, “Where’s Stephanie?”

  A flash of annoyance crossed Jesse’s face. “Gena, why would you assume I know?” he asked calmly.

  She rolled her eyes. “It is your bed she’s sleeping in, is it not?”

  Jesse glared angrily at her. “No, it’s not. I’m not going to deny we slept together. It would be pointless. But that’s past tense. Stephanie’s made it clear I’m persona non grata from her bed. She’s got absolutely no interest in rekindling our relationship. I was a source of comfort, now I’m not. So, to answer your question, I don’t know where she slept last night. It sure as hell wasn’t with me.”

  Gena opened her mouth, surprised by his angry outburst. Jase interrupted him. “She didn’t sleep. We stayed up.” Giving Jesse a wicked grin, he added, “Talking.”

  “You talked all night long?” Jake asked sardonically, raising an eyebrow.

  Jase met Jesse’s icy gaze with a mocking smile. “Up until four hours ago when she left me with her box of files and went to find Ben.” He lifted the coffee cup to his lips, draining the last dregs of coffee. Quietly he said, “It’s rather ironic, isn’t it?”

  “What is?” Jesse asked testily.

  “Neither of them will stop until they find each other,” he laughed bitterly. “She was right. Last night she said he was coming for her and there was nothing we could do about it.”

  ***

  “I know,” Stephanie heard Leigh’s voice behind her. She twisted around in surprise. Moving the phone away from her ear, she glared at him.

  “You followed me here?” she spat out, her voice raspy with anger.

  “I had to see you. You wouldn’t return my calls,” he placated, entering the apartment hesitantly.

  “There was nothing left for us to say. You attacked me,” she said between clenched teeth.

  “I was angry. You caught me unaware,” he said, inching closer to her. He halted at the sight of photos all over the living room walls. “What the hell?”

  Tearing his gaze from her to glance from wall to wall, his horrified gaze clashed with hers. A mixture of horror, fascinating and growing anger flooded through him. “What the hell is this?” he asked, thrusting his hand out to indicate towards the photos.

  “This is a crime scene. One, you’re intruding on,” Stephanie said with an evened calmness she didn’t feel. She tucked her hand behind her back, sliding
it underneath her jacket to finger the gun she had strapped to her back.

  “What do you mean a crime scene?” he asked. Curiously, he moved from wall to wall, stopping at the last one. He studied the photos. “These are photos of you. Why are there photos of you up here?” he demanded.

  She ignored his question, shaking her head tiredly. “Leigh, we’re over. Go home. Go back to the hick little town you came from and leave me alone.”

  He turned back to the photos, ripping one off the wall and tossing it at her. “Is this the reason you’re staying in L.A? Is this why you’re trying to throw us away?”

  The photograph floated to land at her feet. Impatiently, she looked down at the photograph of Jesse and her in an embrace. Pursuing her lips, she snapped, “This is none of your business, Leigh. We’re over. Get it through that thick head of yours.”

  “It’s none of my business? We’ve been married barely a month and you’re already shacking up with your ex-boyfriend,” Leigh spat, moving closer to her. “You’re my wife. I own you. I will not be made a fool of. Not by you, not by anyone.”

  “Stay away from me, Leigh,” she warned, inching back from him.

  “I did not spend all the money, time and effort, to follow you to that stupid little town, only to have you just throw us away,” he shouted, his face mottled with rage.