Running from Fate

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Running from Fate Page 25

by Connelly, Rose


  Sweat started running down Joey’s brow and he wiped it away with his hand. “I remember now,” he said. “I spent the night with a friend near there and I took a walk to clear my hangover.”

  Obviously, James thought, this guy wasn’t very smart. He could have just denied ever being there in the hope that they had no evidence. Now, he had put himself near the scene. If the boy hadn’t deliberately hurt Mira, he could have almost felt sorry for him.

  Devon leaned forward. “We’ve already spoken to Ms. Roberts,” he said.

  A reaction wasn’t long in coming.

  “That slut!” He raged as he exploded out of the chair and paced the room like a caged animal. “It was all her idea and she tries to pin it on me.” He slowed down and his eyes started to clear. “Besides,” he continued craftily. “I was the one who got hurt. I could barely walk for a week. Can’t I sue or something?”

  “You almost choked a woman,” the detective reminded him.

  “Well she didn’t die, did she?” he asked sulkily. “Anyway, I was just trying to scare her.”

  In the other room James clenched his fists.

  “Was rape part of that?”

  “Shit.” Joey threw himself down in the chair and leaned back. “How much slack will you cut me if I give you the dirt on Kimberly?”

  The detective steepled his fingers. “Why was Ms. Roberts targeting this particular woman? Was she jealous because James Kelly was dating Mira and not her?”

  “Hell no,” he replied freely, obviously assuming he would be given a deal. “That woman liked to spread herself around. I doubt she’d even know what real jealousy was. No,” he continued, “the reason she had a beef against this woman was that she partied too much.”

  “I’m not sure I understand.”

  “Well Kim’s dad is some bigwig. He’s on a lot of committees and stuff so it didn’t look good on him when his own daughter got in trouble. He got tired of bailing her out and cut off the flow of cash. Man,” he chuckled. “It really burned her ass. She screamed for a week and then she went pleading to her daddy. I guess his business was in some kind of trouble because he told her the flow would start again if she could help set up a partnership with the guy, James Kelly, something to do with contracts he wanted.” He cleared his throat loudly and his hand twitched. “You got a cigarette?”

  “Sorry Joey I don’t, but maybe later. Then what happened?”

  James was starting to get a sick feeling in his stomach. It had nothing to do with the calculated way that Kim had gone after him, at least not directly. He kept remembering Mira’s house after it had been broken into and the feeling of rage that had lingered over the place. Something wasn’t right. He shook his head and tried to focus on the questioning.

  “Anyway,” Joey was saying. “She hooked the guy really easy and Kim even thought he might be getting ready to offer marriage. That would have made her dad really happy. Then that green-eyed bitch came along and ruined everything. Kim was sure that all we had to do was get her out of the picture and James would beg to have her back.”

  “What did you get out of helping her?” Devon asked.

  “She told me that I’d get a cut of the money her dad gave her.” He shrugged. “My dad’s not happy with me right now and I needed the cash. I got expensive tastes.”

  “Did you help her with the notes?”

  “Nah. That was all her deal. She thought she was real clever. Well, except for the mouse. That grossed her out.”

  Now they were getting somewhere, James thought. He might actually allow Devon to handle things. He let his muscles relax and leaned back.

  “Did you help break into the house?”

  This time the punk looked really surprised and James felt his stomach tightening with dread.

  “Hah,” Joey laughed and didn’t stop until Devon shouted at him. He was still wiping his eyes when he talked again. “Doesn’t matter when it happened,” he said, “because I can guarantee that Kim wouldn’t have the guts to do something like that.” His eyes shone with unholy glee. “I bet that green-eyed bitch pissed someone else off and they did it.” The thought obviously amused him because it set him off in new gales of laughter.

  That was the last straw for James. He sprung from his seat and raced for the door, a sense of impending doom dogging his steps. He would deal with Joey later. Right now all he could think about was that he had left Mira with no protection, but an old man and a puppy. Devon appeared next to him as he reached the parking lot and pushed him toward a squad car. For the first time in a long while, James prayed.

  Chapter 33

  Mira sat in the deepening gloom of her living room and wondered if she should even bother getting up to finish making dinner. Somehow, she doubted that James would be back to eat it and Pat was gone. Despite his protestations she had sent him to a hotel for the night after promising to have lunch with him tomorrow.

  For now, it was just her and Zeus, who was thankfully being quiet and seemed content to just nap on her feet. Despite the depression weighing her down she felt an overwhelming urge to just be alone with her thoughts. When one was making a decision that could alter the entire course of her life it was best done in solitude. With a little of her previous absurd sense of humor, she laughed silently at how dramatic and emo she was being.

  The problem was that tonight she had truly realized, despite the long separation and the sometimes rocky relationship, she had been in love with James Kelly since she was seven years old. Even when she had firmly kept him as just a part of her past during her college years, while she was building a career, and throughout her brief marriage, a part of her had always belonged to him. If Kevin had lived longer things might have been different, but she wasn’t even sure of that.

  The feelings that she had suppressed and tucked away had, apparently, just been waiting for an opening. When she had seen him again after so many years those emotions had sprung back to life, expanding and deepening with every hour she spent in his company.

  The question was: should she accept the half life that James was offering her, living with him, loving him, but knowing that her love wasn’t returned? She could soak up the time spent together and hope that one day he would come to love her and trust her. On the other hand, she could sever her relationship with him and eventually try to find someone else. Someone who could give her what she needed. That was probably the more rational, safer path, but the thought made her heart ache.

  With a disheartened sigh, she leaned back on the sofa and closed her eyes. The quality of light suddenly changed, telling her that the single lamp she was using had gone off. At the exact same moment Zeus jumped up and ran for the stairs, growling threateningly. She had a brief moment to curse herself for not resetting the alarm after Pat had gone when a muffled crash sounded from her room.

  Depression was replaced by a burst of adrenaline that urged her to charge up the stairs and face down the danger, but rationality reasserted itself just in time. Instead, she toed of her shoes and crept quietly toward the kitchen, navigating by moonlight alone. The large knife that she had used earlier glinted temptingly on the breakfast bar, but she bypassed it and pulled a wickedly sharp fillet knife from the knife block. She wasn’t sure if she would have what it took to use it on a living being, but the feel of it in her hand made her feel better.

  From somewhere upstairs, Zeus gave a sharp bark that ended suddenly with a pained yelp. A hushed silence followed and she was sure she could just hear the sound of stealthy footsteps. Forcibly restraining the urge to hurry, Mira held the knife along her side and stepped out of the kitchen. As she came even with the stairs a slim, but surprisingly strong arm wrapped around her neck. She fought the urge to scream and rake her nails down the offending arm and, instead, focused on taking short, shallow breaths and keeping her grip on the knife. If she was to have any kind of chance at surviving the last thing she needed was to panic. She waited, barely able to breath, expecting the arm to tighten and choke off her air supply, but
it didn’t.

  Instead, her attacker started walking forward, forcing her to move or be dragged. An enervating fear kept her mute until she realized that they were heading for the door. If he managed to get her out of the house and took her away from civilization, her chances of survival would plummet. She had to find a way to stop him.

  “Who are you?” she finally asked, cringing when her voice came out high and squeaky.

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” The voice was somehow familiar, but slightly slurred. The sharp smell of vodka washed over her, further restricting her breathing. She gasped for air and swore never to touch the stuff again.

  The man laughed gratingly and continued pulling her toward the door. Suddenly, a memory clicked into place and she remembered the last time she had heard that voice. It had been raised in anger as her ex-boss listened to the judge hand down a sentence that would financially cripple his business and strip him of his license. She still recalled the sick rage in Mitchell Haines’ eyes as he had paused in front of her before stalking out of the courtroom. It was one of the reasons she had chosen to move across the country.

  Her fear went up another notch and her muscles bunched, urging her to fight. The room was now almost pitch black, but Mira sensed that they were coming up to the sofa. She would have one chance. In her present position it would be not only stupid, but almost impossible to truly injure him with the knife, but if she could somehow push him off balance and into the sofa she might at least have enough time to get away.

  She mentally tensed herself, willing her muscles not to freeze and fail her, when a small, dark blur shot into view and clamped onto her attacker’s leg. He screeched in rage and loosened his hold. She silently thanked Zeus and seized her chance, bumping into him as she slipped out of his grasp. He stumbled forward and hit the back of the sofa, tumbling over it. The front door was sill locked and in the dark it would probably take too long to open so she did the only thing she could think of and headed for the stairs at a dead run. If she could make it to her room in enough time, she could use the same tree he had taken advantage of to climb out.

  A loud, harsh sound echoed in her ears as she pelted up the stairs, completely obscuring any noise from below. When she realized that it was the agonized sound of her own breathing, she slowed down slightly and made a conscious effort to calm down. With any luck, her pursuer was still trying to get his balance back. Her slim hopes were dashed when she heard the soft drag of footsteps on carpet before she had even reached the top of the stairs.

  Mira could see the doorway to her room from where she stood, but between here and there was a short expanse of hallway with a darkness that was made lighter by the presence of two windows. When she hit the top of the stairs her silhouette would be starkly visible, showing the man below exactly where she had gone. Making as little noise as possible, she dropped to her stomach and slithered, snakelike, up the remaining stairs and across the hall to her room. Once inside the concealing darkness she stood up and paused momentarily, entranced by the shadows that her lacy curtains made on the walls as they fluttered in the breeze. Before she could snap out of it she heard footsteps halt at the head of the stairs. Her luck was out. They unerringly turned in her direction.

  With no time to spare, she raced inside the built-in closet and pulled the doors shut. Using a large, sturdy suitcase, she boosted herself onto the top shelf and pulled a pile of blankets over her body. She had never considered herself to be claustrophobic, but as the steps got closer and her breathing became heavier, her cramped hiding space began to feel like a coffin.

  Time stretched out elastically, each moment seeming like a small lifetime as he walked into the room and performed a thorough search that eventually led him to the very closet in which she hid. The tri-fold doors squeaked slightly as he pulled them open and her breath slowed down to little more that a trickle.

  Something sharp pricked her leg and she realized that she still held the knife. He had moved forward until his body was almost inside the closet as he crouched down to look at something on the floor. Now was her chance. If she was very quiet and quick enough, she might be able to get the drop on him. She slithered forward and peeked out of her nest.

  “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he said in a high, singsong voice from directly below her. Moonlight arrowed through the room and glinted dully on the object that he held in his hand.

  Shit! He had a gun. Why had she not noticed that before? Her puny knife was no match for him. With a soft breath, she pulled back, forced her muscles to relax, and waited. After what seemed like an eternity he turned away, leaving the doors open, and headed toward the adjoining bathroom.

  “Did you know, Mira,” he asked rhetorically, “that I’ve been watching you for months now? I haven’t exactly had anything else to occupy me since you took away my carefully constructed life and my dear wife left me.” He laughed humorlessly. “Actually,” he mused. “I’ve been thinking about killing you since before you even met me. Did you know that our fathers knew each other? You could say that I’m following in his footsteps.” Cupboard doors opened and closed as he searched. “Well,” he continued conversationally. “The poor man was rather crazy by that point. He just couldn’t handle the loss of his business when your father found out about the little switch I made.” He sighed dramatically. “So it was up to me to handle things. He didn’t have the guts.”

  Mira huddled under the blanket as tears rolled down her face. Her poor father. She wiped her face and strengthened her resolve. She would survive and then the bastard would pay.

  “You know,” he continued from somewhere in the bedroom. “I thought it was greatly amusing to hire the daughter of the man I killed. Not that I felt sorry for you,” he added. “He deserved it. But, if you hadn’t crossed me I might have left you alone. You really have no one to blame but yourself.” He giggled girlishly. “I will admit, though, that I have become rather obsessed. I’ve fantasized about killing you so many times I’ve lost count. If it hadn’t been for your boyfriend and that stupid blond woman who’s been sneaking around I’d have had you long before now. Of course,” he added thoughtfully. “The wait has sweetened my anticipation. I promise that when I find you, you will die slowly.”

  His voice finally faded as he walked off, apparently heading toward the guest bedroom. Mira quickly pushed the covers back and slid carefully from her hiding space. With no time to lose, she ran for the window and looked out. To her horror, the branch that had stretched toward her house was gone, broken on the ground below. She wanted to shut her eyes and wail, but the luxury of that release would have to wait. She had to be out before he came back. There was no choice, but to jump and try to snag a lower branch. At least if she missed and broke her neck on the fall it would be quick. She slid a leg over the sill.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Mitchell warned from the doorway. In case she didn’t get the point, he raised his gun high and fired, raining chunks of plaster on her head.

  A cold sort of calm overtook her and she slid back in and stood straight, hiding the knife behind her back. If she had to face him she would go down fighting.

  “Good girl,” he crooned. “Now, walk to the bed and take off your clothes. I want to see what that rich boyfriend of yours has been screwing.” He shifted the gun to his left hand and pulled out a switchblade. “Then,” he continued, breathing more heavily. “You and I will play a little game.”

  There was no way in Hell, Mira thought, as white hot anger replaced her fear. Never, would she be a victim again. She would rather die first. With a scream of rage, she charged, holding the knife in front of her.

  The first bullet clipped her side, leaving a burning trail that quickly turned numb, but she ignored it, focused only on one goal. The second bullet hit her high in the chest with a jolt of pain that should have knocked her out, but she forced herself to stay upright. With her last bit of strength, she raised the knife and shoved it into his neck.

  As her vision gra
yed she searched desperately for an anchor. Finally, she managed to pull up a picture of James’ face. She held onto it and let the spreading darkness take her.

  **********************************************************

  The patrol car screeched to a halt in front of the darkened townhouse and James was out and running before the engine had even cut off.

  “Wait,” Devon yelled as he leapt out of the car and pulled out his gun in a practiced move. “You have to calm down and let me do this the correct way. For Gods sake, you don’t even have a gun. Fine then,” he added as James pulled open the front door and disappeared. “Just don’t get killed!”

  His own safety was the last thing on James’ mind as he raced through the dark house calling for Mira. He heard a weak yelp from upstairs and followed it, leaping treads three at a time. He could smell the stench of death even before he reached her bedroom and his heart clenched in agony as he thought of what he might find there. His footsteps wanted to drag, delaying the moment of discovery, but he forced himself forward and leaned against the door surround as he stared into the moonlight flooded room.

  For several blessed moments his eyes refused to take in the scene, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of blood that pooled around the two people on the floor. An agonized keening arose as he ran across the room, slipping on the spilled blood, and sank down next to Mira. With arms already aching from emptiness, he gathered her still warm body against his chest and rocked back and forth. When a small, wet tongue rubbed across his face, licking away the tears he hadn’t been aware of shedding, the horrible keening stopped and it was only then that he realized the tormented sound had come from him.

  No matter what he had believed earlier or what he had said to Mira as they sat outside, his feelings for her went much deeper than caring. If he lost her, he would lose everything. “Please baby,” he begged in a tear choked voice. “Please don’t leave me here alone. I need you.”

 

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