Dark Pursuit

by Brandilyn Collins

  My fingers reached to unloosen it from my waist. But at the knot, they lingered.

  How fascinating. I rubbed over the knot’s smooth, silky strength. Gazed down at it, marveling. How enticing the green stripes looked, taunting, teasing. Appearing only to disappear, winding in and out over the sleek black background.

  Understanding came over me slowly.

  A bow was too prettified. Too flimsy. Worse, it had been an afterthought. This fascinating knot could be the act itself.

  New tingling warmth spread through me.

  When I could stand the knot’s beauty no more, I untied it and pulled the fabric from my body. I bunched it to my chest, stroking.

  Preparations needed to be made.

  From a kitchen drawer I pulled a pair of scissors. Cut a ten-inch strip of the cloth.

  Folding the strip, I smelled its silky scent. I headed out to put it in the glove box of my car.

  Just outside the door, I hesitated. Logistics and details rolled through my mind.

  Back inside, I pulled a pair of leather gloves off the shelf of the coat closet. These I placed in my glove box along with the strip of fabric.

  Even as I returned to the kitchen I felt that cloth in the recesses of my car. Calling. Singing to me.

  The rest of the fabric I returned to the bottom of the box. I covered it with the books and hid the box in my closet.

  The rest of the evening was fine. I watched TV. Laughed at sitcoms. I felt right with the world. Properly placed. Worthy of the space I took on the planet, the air I breathed.

  By the time I went to bed that night, the strip of fabric in my car had settled down in my mind. Some of its glow had waned. I recalled the sensations of the knot and found the memory pleasant but no longer felt its pull. Sort of like a starving person given food, now satiated.

  In fact I felt so right it seemed to me I was done with the cloth. For some reason that strip just needed to be in my car. I wouldn’t really do anything with it. Maybe take it out once in awhile, look at it, run it through my fingers. Nothing more.

  As for that fascinating knot, just remembering it would be enough.

  Yes, just remembering would be enough.

  thirty

  Kaitlan shivered in the front hallway as she listened to Craig’s Mustang turning around in front of the carport. She clutched both arms to her chest, loneliness and vulnerability spinning a web around her head. Every heartbeat banged in her cheek.

  Why hadn’t Craig killed her?

  The sound of his car engine dwindled, then roared once more. Craig was headed down the long driveway.

  Kaitlan edged into the living room and peeked through the window. The twin beams of his taillights glared demon eyes.

  In a little over seven hours he’d be back.

  If only she had a land line phone in her apartment. But she’d been trying to save money, using only her cell. Not that it mattered. Craig would have pulled out the cord and taken it as well.

  She turned from the window and focused on the red throw blanket on the back of the couch. The blanket that Craig’s last victim had grabbed in desperation as they fought. Kaitlan could never use that throw again. Or sleep on her bed. Or even lie on the bedspread, now stained with the smells of death.

  She lowered her face into her hands.

  When her grandfather and Margaret didn’t hear from her tonight, they’d panic. They didn’t even have her address to come looking for her. Only one thing left for them to do: call the police. Some officer on night patrol would come out here. What excuse would she give for her grandfather’s worry?

  She could think of none except for labeling him an old man, half senile after his auto accident. The thought of such betrayal cut deep.

  Tomorrow Craig would hear that Darell Brooke had called the station. That he was her grandfather. And Craig would know she’d told him. She and her grandfather both would die. Margaret too.

  I can’t believe this. Craig, what happened to you?

  Aimlessly, Kaitlan wandered into the kitchen and guzzled a glass of water at the sink. The forest beyond her window was a black, sucking void.

  Her eyes fell to her purse on the kitchen table. No cell phone in its inside pocket. No car keys either. She’d checked the minute Craig left.

  The Jensons.

  Kaitlan’s chin bounced up. Her lips parted as she stared at her purse. Had he checked all through it?

  She grabbed her handbag and yanked back the long inside zipper. Thrusting her hand in the deep pocket, she felt around.

  Her fingers closed on the key.

  With a victorious cry she pulled it out. The key to the Jensons’ house. Every few days she took in their mail and watered the plants while they were away. Craig hadn’t known.

  Her eyes blurred as she slipped the key into her pants pocket. “Thank you, thank you, God.”

  She ran into the living room and peered out front, making sure Craig was gone.

  What if he was hiding at the top of the driveway, waiting? What if this was a trap?

  Like she wasn’t trapped here anyway.

  At her side door Kaitlan eased into the goblin darkness under the carport. Crickets throbbed and sang.

  The door sounded loud as she pulled it shut.

  She stood there, hugging herself, waiting for her eyes to adjust.

  Slowly, listening at every step, she made her way from under the carport and onto the driveway. A weak moon fumbled through high fog. She thought of her grandfather’s house on the hill. There the ground-hugging cloud would be thick and chilling.

  A shudder ran down her back.

  The night plucked Kaitlan’s nerves with greedy fingers. Asphalt stretched before her, long and curving, mocking as it disappeared into nothingness.

  Was Craig down there?

  Kaitlan leaned forward, eyes narrowed, searching the blackness. Did she see the hulk of a car? That shape far ahead …

  Was it only her imagination?

  She hesitated, on the verge of turning back. If this was a test and she failed it, he would kill her.

  But how would she get through this long night, worrying about her grandfather and waiting for dawn like some hunted animal in a cave?

  Kaitlan took a deep breath and started down the driveway.

  After a few steps the crickets’ rasping blended with the rhythm of her own body. The beat of her heart, blood whooshing in her ears. Cool air crawled across her skin. She shuddered.

  Ten feet from the carport massive sequoias and eucalyptus trees studded the driveway’s edge. Kaitlan could see only a few feet beyond them into the woods. Her brain conjured visions of the dead woman’s face frozen in horror. Was she buried out there?

  Kaitlan neared a bend in the road.

  Heart in her throat, she drifted toward the outside edge, craning her neck to view around the curve. After this she’d be able to see the Jensons’ house.

  Kaitlan’s foot hit something hard. She tripped and stumbled forward. Throwing out both hands, she caught herself before hitting the ground.

  Chest heaving, she hovered on one knee, darkness pressing against her back.

  She pushed her body upright. Looked ahead and saw a faint glow.

  Scattered through the Jensons’ house were lamps on timers, clicking on at dusk, off at midnight. They’d been strategically placed in front windows, facing the street. Kaitlan now could make out the vague outline of the house’s right corner—where the kitchen lay. The light filtered through the kitchen’s rear sliding door.

  That faint glimmer pushed hope into her soul.

  Fastening her eyes upon it, she quickened her pace. All she had to do was reach the Jensons’ and get inside to the phone. Call her grandfather for help.

  Get to the house, get to the house. The words chanted in her head, driving her steps.

  By the time Kaitlan reached the edge of the yard, she was panting. Her heart beat double time. Almost there.

  She imagined the sound of her grandfather’s voice. Kaitl
an didn’t even care how grumpy he was, she just wanted to hear it.

  Nearing the back of the house, she veered into the yard and picked her way along a stone path that led to the deck off the kitchen and garage.

  Her key was to the back garage door.

  By the time her hand reached for that knob, Kaitlan trembled all over. Three times she failed to insert the key into the lock. Door finally open, she edged into the garage, even blacker than the night. She felt along the wall that led toward the kitchen.

  Kaitlan slipped into the house—and light. Dim, emanating from the front rooms. But to her it was the warmest light she’d ever seen.

  With a cry of relief, she flung herself toward the phone.

  thirty-one

  A loud ringing startled Darell awake.

  His arms jerked, head snapping up. He looked around dazedly, the taste of sleep in his mouth. Who, what? What time is it?

  Kaitlan.

  He shoved forward in his chair, groping the floor for his cane, only to remember the phone was a reach away.

  A second ring.

  Darell snatched up the receiver and punched the talk button.

  Dead air. Margaret had answered.

  He cursed loudly and slammed down the phone. Danged new systems. Pick up on one extension and you couldn’t hear on the next without some fancy button-pushing.

  Darell plucked up his cane, positioned his legs underneath him and pushed up with his left hand. On his feet he swayed, seeking balance, then shuffled across the office. He flung open the door. “Margaret!Transfer the—” He growled in his throat. He should have brought the receiver with him. “Never mind, I’m coming!”

  “Here, D.!” Margaret’s voice filtered from the other end of the house. “It’s Kaitlan.”

  Well, of course it was Kaitlan. Hadn’t he known she’d be all right?

  Relief flooded his limbs.

  As he neared the library Margaret’s voice drifted to his ears. “You sure you’re okay?”

  He thumped across the threshold and over to his assistant. One of his old novels lay on the desk by the phone. Why was that there?

  He thrust out his hand. “Let me talk to her.”

  “Wait, here’s your grandfather.” Margaret handed over the receiver.

  “Kaitlan.”

  “Hi.” She sounded breathless.

  “What happened?”

  “We went to the party. Chief Barlow threatened me not to say anything that would hurt Craig. I think he knows. And then, um”—her tone turned off key—“Craig brought me home.”

  Margaret looked on, forehead creased and both hands to her mouth.

  “It’s him,” Kaitlan sputtered. “For sure. He admitted moving the body and everything. First he said he doesn’t know why he kills; then he promised it wouldn’t happen again.”

  This wasn’t news. Darell had known Craig was the murderer. Still, hearing the confirmation made him want to sit down and take a deep breath. “All right, Kaitlan, calm yourself. This is what we expected.” He sidled to his leather chair and sank into it. Margaret moved around so she could watch his face.

  “No, it’s not what I expected, it’s worse! He said if I told anyone, he’d have to ‘take care’ of that person too, just like he’s going to take care of me.”

  Darell gripped a knobby knee. Coward. Arrogant, murderous, lying coward. He would dance a jig—without his cane—when Craig Barlow was behind bars.

  “And I can’t run away. If I do, he’ll plant drugs in my apartment. They’ll hunt me down and take me to jail—if Craig doesn’t kill me first. And with Chief Barlow in on everything, I won’t stand a chance, no matter what I say.”

  Darell felt the rise and fall of his chest—an old man’s lungs. He focused on the heavy wooden clock on the wall. Nearly eleven. Anxiety spritzed down his nerves. Eleven. He’d been asleep for over two hours. When he was supposed to be creating a plan.

  “Grandfather, what am I supposed to do?”

  Fear and rage funneled through Darell. “We’re going to catch him, Kaitlan, that’s what we’re going to do.”

  “How? I have to … I can’t live like this.”

  “I know. Don’t worry, I’ve been studying on it since you left.”

  He glanced at Margaret. She gave him a hard look. Darell turned away.

  “He told me this body will never be found,” Kaitlan said. “So what are we left with? We can’t even prove someone was killed, and we have no way to tie him to the other murders—”

  “Kaitlan, you’ve got to calm down.”

  “I can’t! You don’t know what it was like. I thought I was going to die. If he finds out I’ve talked to you he’ll kill me. And he hit me tonight. Twice.”

  Darell’s blood drained to his feet. His head buzzed. “He hit you?”

  Margaret gasped.

  “It still hurts. I’m gonna have a bruise on my cheek tomorrow. He said to tell people I ran into a door.”

  Darell stared out the window into blackness. A hollow helplessness opened in his gut. He needed a plan now. This antagonist wasn’t acting as he’d expected. Admitting his crimes, threatening his girlfriend …

  “Grandfather, help me!”

  Darell’s mind blanked. Utterly emptied. He clutched the phone, heat flushing his face. Not a single thing could he offer her. He could barely even remember the news article he’d read mere hours ago.

  Margaret stepped close and held out her hand. “D. Give me the phone.”

  She knew. She knew he was useless.

  Like a child, he held out the receiver.

  “Kaitlan?” Margaret backed up two steps. “We don’t want you alone tonight. Come stay here.”

  Darell hung on her every expression. What was Kaitlan saying?

  Margaret shook her head. “We don’t know yet. But we’ll come up with something tonight. He has to be caught—there’s no other option.”

  She listened. Her face slacked.

  Darell swiped at the phone. “Give it back, what’s going on?”

  Margaret laid the receiver against her neck. “He took her cell phone and car keys. She’s calling from her landlord’s house. They’re on vacation and she has a key.”

  Darell struggled to process the information. This didn’t make sense. Why had Craig left at all? Why not stay to make sure she didn’t go anywhere?

  A light snapped on in his brain. “Give me the phone.”

  “But—”

  “Give it to me!”

  Margaret handed it over.

  “Kaitlan.” Darell gripped the arm of his chair. His voice came clipped and intense. “Craig doesn’t know you have a key to your landlord’s place?”

  “No.”

  “You sure?”

  She hesitated. “Yes. Why?”

  “I just need to make sure this isn’t a setup. That what I’m thinking is correct.”

  “I didn’t see him anywhere around when I walked here.”

  Darell closed his eyes.

  “So what are you thinking?” she asked.

  “He could have stayed with you tonight, but he didn’t.”

  “Because he has to be at work early. And he didn’t have his uniform with him.”

  “You think he couldn’t have planned ahead and brought it? You think he didn’t know he’d have to intimidate you to shreds tonight?”

  “I guess. He was different as soon as he walked in the door. All on edge and changing one minute to the next.”

  “Because he’s scared. Because he knows you know, and now he’s got to fix it.”

  And he would—sooner than Kaitlan realized.

  Darell could hardly breathe. “He told you the body wouldn’t be found?”

  “Yes.”

  “He’d have been too rushed this afternoon to make sure of that. Getting rid of a body takes time, and he was on duty. Besides, it was daylight. He pulled that woman from your apartment, but he couldn’t take her far. That’s why he left you tonight. Right now he’s disposing of the b
ody for good.”

  And when he finished with that, he’d come back for Kaitlan.

  thirty-two

  Craig had left only to move the body?

  Kaitlan stilled on the chair in the Jensons’ kitchen. Her grandfather’swords sank inside her like millstones. Her eyes cut to the sliding backdoor as if any second Craig might leap from the darkness. The house felt like a mausoleum. Huge and still and cold. Able to swallow her whole.

  “Are you saying”—her voice sounded so small—“he’ll come back?”

  But she already knew the answer. Of course he wouldn’t leave her alone all night. Everything he’d said had been designed to terrify her, keep her from running while he was gone.

  “Listen to me,” her grandfather snapped. “You have to get out of there.”

  “I don’t have a car!”

  “We’ll come get you.”

  “But he told me not to leave. He’ll chase me down, and if he can’t find me, he’ll plant drugs in my apartment.”

  “That’s a chance we have to take. You have no choice now, things have gotten out of hand.”

  Like they weren’t before.

  And just what had her grandfather been doing all evening while she followed his advice and went to a party with a killer? “Have you figured out how we’re going to catch Craig?” she demanded.

  Her grandfather’s hesitation screamed.

  “Have you?”

  “I need to refigure it. The situation’s different now.”

  Kaitlan shoved to her feet. “You told me I could count on you! Now look at me. I never should have left your house!” Desperation choked her lungs. She bent over, dragging in air. Craig was coming back tonight—who knew whether to beat her up again or kill her?

  She had to get out of here.

  “Pull yourself together, Kaitlan,” her grandfather snapped. The fear vibrating through his anger heightened her own. “I’m handing the phone to Margaret. She needs directions.”

  Muffled sounds came over the line as the receiver was passed from hand to hand. Margaret’s voice trembled into Kaitlan’s ears. She could barely think straight as she tried to spout directions. Twice she blanked on names of streets.

  “Okay. Got it.” Margaret’s words spluttered. “Wait! Your grandfather wants to tell you something.”