Sarah surreptitiously glanced at the clock. Brett should have been here by now. Keeping Amber distracted was her only job - that and trying to get feeling back into her hands. So far, all of the fist-making wasn’t doing much. She shifted in her chair and continued trying to provoke her friend-turned-captor.
“I love how you think everything is somebody else’s fault. You killed my husband. You framed an innocent man for his murder and, consequently, framed your best friend as an accessory. Those aren’t my actions, Amber. Those are yours.”
“Innocent man?” Amber laughed before her features and voice took on a maniacal air that made the hair on the back of Sarah’s neck stand up. Her anger was both insane and palpable as she advanced on Sarah and screamed. “That bastard ruined my mother’s life and then he came back to try to ruin mine. My mother wouldn’t let his whore of a mother ruin my life and I’m sure as hell not going to let her bastard son!”
“Your mother knew about Maggie?” Sarah questioned, finally understanding a little bit of Amber’s hatred for Brett. Clearly, she no longer blamed her father for her mother’s suicide. Now the blame rested solely on Brett’s head.
“Oh course she knew,” Amber growled. “And it killed her. She had to live for years knowing that some whore gave her husband the son she never could. He blamed her, you know? He told her over and over that it was her fault and not his. Yes, Sarah, the Honorable Judge Phelps was an asshole just like all the rest of them. It would have been over a long time ago if that little bastard had been in that car with his mother like he was supposed to be.”
“How could you know that?”
“My mother told me. Who did you think forced that whore’s car off the road?”
****
Crouched below the kitchen window, Brett lifted the rearview mirror that he’d broken off his windshield to get a glimpse inside the house. He could see Sarah’s back, her hands bound behind a chair. He saw Amber through the doorway to the living room, ten feet past Sarah, pacing back and forth. She stopped and peeked through the blinds of the far window. Suddenly, Amber’s voice grew louder, angrier, and she advanced upon Sarah. Brett could hear their argument, listened to Sarah inciting Amber. He smiled to himself when he realized that she was intentionally distracting her kidnapper. She must have been watching the clock, realized that the cavalry would be arriving and would need Amber distracted.
Suddenly, Brett felt the air leave his lungs. Amber’s admission hit him like a freight train. His mother hadn’t just died in a car accident, she’d been murdered. Because of his existence. And now that crazy bitch in there was about kill another child’s mother. His child.
Remembering Sarah was in the house with this madwoman brought back his focus. He knew he only had a few minutes to get in there and subdue Amber. He’d told Jim to give him fifteen minutes and then call the police. A hostage situation should bring in SWAT and then you couldn’t predict the outcome.
He crept around toward the window to the dining room. He raised the mirror again. From this angle he could catch a glimpse of Sarah’s legs but couldn’t see Amber. In turn, Amber couldn’t see him. He sent up a silent prayer and tried the window through the screen. It moved in silence and he thanked God. He would lecture Sarah later about keeping ground floor windows locked.
He took out his pocket knife and sliced through the flimsy screen, pushed the window further open. With the stealth only a Ranger possessed, he climbed over the sill and landed silently on the hardwood floor. He pulled the pistol out of his waistband and turned off the safety. Amber’s declaration about her mother had apparently also stunned Sarah because she was just beginning to speak again.
“You were only six when your mother died. How could you possibly know that?”
“Do you think I don’t know what my own mother was like?” Amber demanded.
“I… I didn’t mean it like that,” Sarah stuttered.
“Then how did you mean it?”
“I just meant that I didn’t think your mother would confess murder to her six year old daughter. How did you find out?”
“My mother worked very hard to make sure that I would know who she was and what she was like. When she realized that she would die young, she started keeping a journal of sorts, only she addressed her entries ‘Dear Amber’ rather than ‘Dear Diary’.”
“You never told me your mother left a diary,” Sarah said, so caught up in the conversation that she may have forgotten her circumstances if not for the relentless shooting pains in her arms.
“It was none of your business,” Amber shouted, any façade of sanity now cracking completely with the discussion of her mother. “She was my mother and it was for me and me alone.”
Sarah felt her eyes well as she really began to realize the depth of Amber’s instability. Clearly, it was hereditary. Everyone wrote off her mother’s problems as depression and her suicide seemed to support that diagnosis, but Sarah now wondered how much more serious the mental illness had been.
“I’m sorry, Amber. I know how much your mother’s suicide hurt you,” Sarah whispered, suddenly feeling very sympathetic of her best friend. She knew it wasn’t Amber that was doing all of this. There was definitely something wrong with her head.
Amber’s hand stinging across Sarah’s cheek was a clear wake up call. “Don’t ever call it a suicide again,” Amber screamed. “They killed her!”
Sarah’s head whipped back at the surprise assault and when she came forward she thought she saw movement from the corner of her eye. She turned to look and saw Brett standing silently near the doorway to the dining room. She averted her eyes quickly but not fast enough. Amber had caught the look of relief on her face.
In one swift move, Amber was standing behind Sarah holding a knife firmly against her carotid artery.
“What are you doing?” Brett asked calmly. “You asked me to come. Here I am.”
“Don’t play games, bastard,” Amber warned. “Clearly you were trying to sneak up on me or you would have simply come to the door.”
“I was afraid, Amber. I wasn’t trying to trick you.”
“Whatever. Drop your gun or I’ll slit her throat.”
“You can’t do that, Amber,” Brett reasoned. “You’re planning to make it look like a murder-suicide, right? Well, I’m too tall. The angle of the wound would be all wrong.”
“Well, aren’t you just the smart one? I could just burn down the house with both of you in it. Fire has a tendency to destroy evidence like cut angles.”
“Maybe,” Brett considered as he inched his way toward them. “But that’s still tricky. For example, if we killed each other, who set the fire?”
“Stop playing games and drop your fucking gun,” Amber ordered. “Do it now or I slit her throat and deal with the consequences later.”
“Okay,” Brett agreed, seeing the fear in Sarah’s eyes. He slowly lowered his gun to the floor by his feet.
“I’ve seen enough movies not to fall for that,” Amber announced. “Kick it toward me.” Reluctantly, Brett kicked the gun hard enough to send it skittering to a stop at Amber’s feet. Without taking her eyes off Brett, Amber bent down to scoop up the gun.
Sarah shoved her feet against the floor and slammed the chair backward into Amber. She heard the crack of bone as her arm gave way against the hardwood floor and she couldn’t hold back the scream. The gun slid just out of Amber’s reach as the weight of Sarah and the chair pinned her to the floor. Amber pushed Sarah off her and rolled over to crawl toward the weapon but Brett beat her there.
Aiming the gun at Amber’s head from only inches away, his hands were steady and his words left no room for misinterpretation. “Don’t fucking move.”
Realizing the gun was now pointed directly at her skull, Amber rolled over and looked up a Brett. The maniacal laughter that escaped from her seemed to be coming from a wounded cat. It surprised both Sarah and Brett. Sarah grimaced from the pain of her fractured right arm and pushed herself off the floor with her left.
Brett and Amber had just come into her view when Amber flung herself off the floor and plowed into Brett with the speed of a lion on a gazelle. Sarah watched helplessly as the two struggled for the gun. Twenty years of rage and a large dose of insanity ignited Amber like gasoline and she was holding her own in the wrestling match with a man who outweighed her by at least sixty pounds.
They rolled through the living room and came up long enough to crash back down over the coffee table. Wood splinters went flying and Sarah flinched as debris flew toward her face. Something knocked the gun from Brett’s hand and the struggle gained momentum. Amber’s hand landed on a crystal ball paper weight and she smashed it into the side of Brett’s head. The blow sent a shudder through his body and he lost mobility for only a moment. But it was enough. Amber had reached the gun and was rising to her feet, the pistol leveled at Brett.
“I’m done fucking around with you,” she declared. Sarah screamed when she heard the gun fire.
Tears flooded her eyes and she watched through blurred vision as Amber’s body slumped to the floor and landed on Brett. A red spot grew in what seemed like slow motion across the white fabric of her T-shirt.
Sarah couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing as Brett pushed Amber off his chest. His eyes looked at a spot behind Sarah. “Took you long enough,” he smiled and pushed himself to his feet. He rushed over to Sarah as she struggled to figure out what had happened and who Brett was talking to. As he kissed her forehead she felt another pair of hands tugging at the ropes binding her hands. She twisted her head around far enough that she felt the bones in her spine pop.
“Take it easy,” the man advised. “It’s not going to feel much better when I get them off.”
“Sarah,” Brett explained, “meet Nick Carter. He’s my buddy from the Rangers that I told you about.”
“Oh,” Sarah whispered as she recognized the man she’d seen twice before – at the library and the hospital. She felt the ropes give and a tingling sensation surged in her hands. It was almost more painful than when her arm crunched under the weight of her chair.
“Oh my God, Sarah!” She heard her father call from the doorway. He was upon her in seconds. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, daddy. Could you just help me get up?”
He led her into the kitchen and into a chair then went outside to direct the police and paramedics.
****
Sarah opened her eyes to see Brett pulling aside the curtain surrounding her “room” in the Emergency Department.
“Hey,” she greeted.
“Hey yourself,” he answered and Sarah noticed the spot above his temple where Amber had hit him with the paperwork. It was already a light purple, destined to become a substantial bruise by morning. “How’re you feeling?” He asked.
“All fixed up,” she answered, holding up her freshly made cast. “How’s your head?”
“I’ll be fine,” he assured her. “I’ve been through worse.”
“Brett…”
“Darlin’ don’t,” he interrupted. “You don’t have to say anything.”
“Yes I do,” she argued. “I’m sorry. I never should have doubted you, not even for a minute.”
“Anyone in your position would have had some doubts, darlin’.”
“That’s a cop out and you know it. I owe you an apology and I’m trying to give it you. The least you could do is accept it with a little grace,” she teased him and one side of his mouth turned up in the grin she loved.
“I accept your apology,” he said formally and moved to sit on the side of the bed. He bent down to kiss her and pulled her hand into his.
“Good. Now, it’s my turn. I saw your friend Nick the other day when I was at the library. How is that?”
“I called him a couple of weeks ago,” he admitted. “I didn’t know what the hell was going on and it worried me. I asked him to come up and help me keep an eye on things.”
“By things, you mean me?”
“When I wasn’t with you, yes. Listen, darlin’ it wasn’t like I wanted him to spy on you, I just wanted to make sure you and Lindsey were safe. I’m sorry if…”
“I accept your apology,” she interrupted and he looked up, startled.
“What?”
“I accept your apology,” she smiled. “See that’s how you accept someone’s apology with grace.” She laughed at his look of shock and reached an arm around his neck. She pulled him in for a kiss as the doctor brought in her discharge papers.
“Well, it was a nasty break,” Dr. Hawkins declared as she handed Sarah a prescription and some discharge instructions. “But I think you’re going to be just fine.”
Feeling Brett squeeze her hand, Sarah couldn’t suppress a smile. “Oh, I know I am,” she said as she squeezed back.
Epilogue
Sarah struggled to pull the tape off the box. Things like this were easier when one arm wasn’t in a sling.
“You need some help with that?”
She turned to see Brett leaning against the kitchen doorway, grinning at her.
“I got it. Are the movers finished bringing stuff in?”
“Yep, there’s a mountain of boxes in the living room. It’s going to take weeks to get it all put away.”
“It won’t take that long,” she answered and rubbed her good hand against her forehead. She still got headaches occasionally and felt one coming on.
“Sit down,” he ordered as he moved toward the sink and filled a glass with water. He handed it to her as he sat down on next to her. “I told you to take it easy. It’s only been a couple of weeks.”
“I’m not over-doing it,” she assured him and reached for the glass. The sparkling new diamond on her left hand brought a smile to her face as she continued.
“I just want to get us all settled in. We all need a fresh start, Lindsey especially. At least here, her only memories will be of the day you brought us horseback riding. And it was a good memory.”
“When do you think we should tell her about me?” He asked and his tone conveyed his caution.
“I think our getting married is enough for her right now. We need to let her get to know you, get used to all of us living together first.”
“I agree. By the way, Cameron called me a little while ago. The DA has officially closed the case.”
“Thank God,” she answered, but she still felt melancholy at the reminder of the past few months. She had lost three of the people closest to her and she wasn’t sure she’d ever completely recover from that.
“Yes, Cameron also said that they questioned Cole Johnson about his role in all of this. Cole confirmed that he had asked Amber to wait for a guy coming to repair the roof on my old garage, but he denied knowing anything about Amber taking the gun. He also confirmed that she went to the diner and announced plans to meet you in Soulard that night. Apparently, that’s also how Cole happened to be there. He was hoping he’d run into Amber. He was still very much in love with her.”
“He definitely seemed pretty upset at her funeral, but I guess we all were.” She felt her eyes begin to well. “Have you talked to Tom… I mean, your father?”
“Actually, he called a little while ago. He wanted to invite us for dinner tonight. Are you up for going to his house? I know you must have a lot of memories there. I’d say we could have them here, but I don’t know where the dishes are.”
“Dinner at his house is fine with me,” Sarah smiled. “I’ll always be up for you getting to know your father better.”
Brett stood from his chair and pulled Sarah up into his arms.
“Even after everything that’s happened,” he whispered. “I’m so glad you’re here with me.”
“It’s a good thing, Cowboy,” she laughed. “’Cause, you’re stuck with me.”
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
There are a number of people who I would like to thank for helping me accomplish this goal.
First and foremost is Cathy MacElroy whose support on this pr
oject was unwavering even when she was reading and editing for the tenth time. What is most amazing is that her support on this project is only a drop in the bucket of what she and her family have given to me in the past twenty years.
A special thanks to Mike, Keely & Kobe for putting up with me throughout this process. I know I could sometimes be a little – ahem – difficult, shall we say?
And, Thank You to everyone else who helped me out along the way. Among those people: Eric MacElroy, Karen Lane, Lois Lane, Karla Russell, Chris McCarthy, Chris Heger, Jay Thone and my “guinea pigs:” Jennifer, Charlotte, Anita, and Sharon.
And finally, Thank You to Neil and Zach at OzarkLand.com for letting me use the beautiful river photo for the cover. If you are ever looking for property in Missouri, please visit their site.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Prologue
Part 1
PART 2:
Epilogue
Killer Desires Page 25