“Running into her didn’t work out so well last time, I’d rather let her come to me.” A movement at the side of the house caught JB’s eye. “Hey, who’s that?” he nodded at the man running towards the road.
Mac turned around and saw Preston at the same time he noticed Mac and JB. Skidding to a halt, Preston nodded, acting as if running from the house was the most normal thing in the world.
“Gentlemen,” he greeted them. “Chelsea needs something from the restaurant. Go on in, I’m sure they’ll be glad to see you.” Smiling, he trotted past them before either man could utter a word.
“What the hell?” Mac watched as Preston picked up speed as he moved down the hill. The trepidation he felt only moments ago came back in full force. Something was wrong; he knew it as well as he knew his own name.
Without a word to JB, he sprinted across the lot, around to the back door. The distinctive odor of gas met him before he opened the door.
“Dammit,” whirling to find JB hot on his heels, Mac yelled, “get back, it’s a gas leak!” He was already halfway to the propane valve when he finished the command.
“Sharon’s in there,” JB yelled back as he barreled through the door.
Mac turned the nozzle as fast as he could, shutting off the gas. Within seconds, he was inside the house, screaming for Chelsea and his dad.
“In the kitchen,” JB said, coughing as he came around the corner with Sharon in his arms. “I’ll be back,” he sputtered as he ran with her around the house and down to the parking lot.
Mac covered his mouth and dashed into the kitchen, the odor of gas so strong that he feared he would pass out before finding them. His heart nearly stopped when he saw them both lying prone on the floor, but it was the knowledge that he could only save one that nearly broke it into.
“Forgive me, Dad,” he whispered as he scooped Chelsea up and whisked her out of the house. Tears all but blinded him as he carried her away from the house to safety.
JB met him on the side of the house, having left Sharon well away from danger.
“Here, take her,” Mac shoved Chelsea into JB’s arms and whirled around to get John. Warning bells rang in the back of his mind, telling him not to go back inside. One tiny spark is all it would take to send the house into a billion pieces.
But his dad was in there, helpless and alone. He may be dying, but Mac wasn’t about to be short-changed on the time they had left. Racing into the house, his adrenaline pumping, he found the strength to heft his father over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
Sending silent prayers to make it to safety, Mac practically flew along the path leading away from Chelsea’s beautiful masterpiece.
“The fire department’s on its way,” JB told him when he reached the lot. “Paramedics, too. I think they’ve been drugged; they’re out cold, but their breathing’s normal.”
“Yeah, and I know who drugged them. But why?” Mac checked his dad for injuries before leaning over Chelsea and doing the same.
Sirens in the distance caught his attention. Almost instantly, they heard a car motor start a ways down the mountainside.
“Preston, he’s getting away.” Mac was torn between chasing after the man who nearly killed his father and the love of his life, and trying to save the home they both loved.
“We need to move, get them down the hill. If that house blows, debris will rain down all around us.” JB picked up Sharon and placed her in the nearest car.
“That’s not going to happen. Get them to safety, I’m going back in. He must have a trigger somewhere and I refuse to let him win.”
“You’re crazy, man. It’ll take at least an hour for that gas to filter out of there; any spark at all could set it off in the meantime.” JB grabbed Chelsea and carried her to the car, realizing that he was talking to himself, Mac had already disappeared.
Stripping off his shirt as he ran, Mac tied it around his face as a breathing mask. Stopping to open two windows in the sunroom, he ran into the kitchen and headed straight for the window in there, shoving it open. Only then did he stop and inspect the space, looking for anything that Preston may have used to ignite the gas.
Spotting Chelsea’s purse on the counter, he immediately thought of a cell phone. Grabbing the bag, he tossed it out of the door and went back inside.
What else? Scanning the room, he noticed a small, black box near the stove. Could that be the trigger? Without a second thought, he grabbed it and ran, throwing it as far as he could out the door. The black box sailed over the side of the cliff, far away from the noxious fumes.
Chapter Thirty-One
“You’re not going anywhere until the doctor clears you,” Mac spoke to his father more harshly than he intended.
“What’s to clear? I’m fine,” John shifted to get out of the bed, but a firm hand on his arm stopped him. “Where’re Chelsea and Sharon? Why aren’t you with them?”
“Because I’m here with you. JB’s with them, don’t worry, they’ll be fine too.” Mac tried to hide his impatience and his concern. He had only seen Chelsea briefly since they arrived at the hospital. At the moment, his dad’s condition was more pressing. “Where is that damn doctor?” he muttered softly.
~~~
“I told you, we’re fine. You don’t need to hang around.”
“Stop telling me what to do. I’ll leave when I’m good and ready.” JB ran his hand through his hair, relief that Sharon was well enough to pick a fight coursed through him. Never in his life had he felt the kind of fear that gripped him when he saw Sharon lying on the floor, the air around her thick with gas fumes. His life had been in imminent danger more than a few times in the desert, but nothing had ever scared him like the thought of losing Sharon forever.
“I know that’s true,” Sharon replied sharply, more shaken than she was willing to admit in front of JB. Nerves combined with the pounding headache that would not go away left her in no condition to deal with JB. Even if he did save her life.
“JB, there aren’t enough words to thank you for what you did,” Chelsea said softly, hoping to diffuse the situation. She had the same sledge hammer bouncing around in her head as Sharon, but she was also overwhelmingly grateful that Sharon and John had not been hurt. Responsibility for bringing Preston into their lives weighed heavily on her.
“No need to thank me, Chelsea. I’m glad we were there in time.”
“Any word from the police? Have they found Preston?” The fact that the man she once loved could cold-heartedly try to kill her and her friends had still not completely registered. She didn’t think she would ever come to terms with it.
“No word yet, but they’ll find him.” JB moved away from Sharon to stand near Chelsea. If Sharon needed space, he’d give it to her, but only if he could keep his eyes on her.
“And John? Any word from Mac?”
“Not yet. I assume he’s still waiting on the doctor.” JB had not missed the fact that Mac had insisted they take his dad to oncology right away, but he respected their privacy enough to not ask questions.
Chelsea nodded, then closed her eyes. She had so much to be grateful for. No one had been seriously hurt, her home and business remained intact and she was surrounded by people who cared for her. She couldn’t ask for more, but knowing that Preston wanted her dead was so unsettling, so preposterous that gratitude was overshadowed by confusion.
“Why did he do it?” she whispered. “How could he do it?”
“I don’t have the answers, but I promise you that he won’t do it again,” Mac laid his forehead against hers, covering her hands with his.
Chelsea’s eyes flew open, relief to see him flooding through her.
“Mac,” breathing his name brought her instant comfort. “How’s John?”
“He’s okay. The doctor wants to keep him overnight for observation. You can imagine how well that’s going over.” Mac smiled, wanting to crawl into bed beside her, just to feel her in his arms.
“Thank God,” Chelsea sighed deeply. �
�I would never forgive myself if anything had happened to him, or to Sharon.”
“This is not your fault, Chels. Beecher is a lunatic, why else would he pull something so heinous? He spoke to me and JB like nothing was wrong, told us to go inside without the slightest hesitation. He could have killed five people with no more emotion than it takes to order lunch. He must be out of his mind.”
“Maybe so, but I brought him into your lives. None of you would have been in danger if it weren’t for me.”
“Don’t let me hear you say anything like that again, it’s ridiculous.” Mac grabbed her to him in a tight hug.
“I second that,” Sharon spoke up. “Don’t be absurd, Chels. I never liked the guy, but I never dreamed he was capable of something like this. Do not blame yourself.”
“Okay, okay,” Chelsea hugged Mac in return. “Message received. But I’ll feel better when he’s caught and we can get some answers.”
“We all will,” JB told her, fighting the urge to go to Sharon. “In the meantime, don’t expect to be left alone, either of you.” He flashed a stern look at both women. “If the police can’t provide round the clock protection, I will.”
“It’s already taken care of,” Mac told them. “Starsdale’s force is so small, there’s no way they could cope with a manhunt and twenty-four-seven protection. I hired private security; they’re on the way from Sacramento as we speak.”
“Now who’s being ridiculous?” Chelsea sat upright. “That’s really not necessary, Mac. We can watch out for ourselves, now that we know Preston’s a threat.”
“Don’t argue with me, Chelsea. It’s done. I’m not saying that you can’t take care of yourself, but are you willing to take responsibility for everyone around you? What if Beecher takes a notion to blow up your party tomorrow night? He’s already shown that it doesn’t matter to him who he kills.”
“Alright, alright. We’ll accept security. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” Mac kissed her lightly on the cheek. “I should get back to dad, make sure he doesn’t try to escape.”
“We’ll come up when they release us,” Chelsea told him. “I need to see for myself that he’s okay.
“Do me a favor and don’t go anywhere until the security team arrives.”
“I’ll make sure of it.” JB promised.
~~~
Preston arrived at the hideaway cabin in a state of bemused calm. He’d heard the sirens, but not the explosion, and knew that his carefully made plan had gone wrong.
“Damn you, Mac Mills,” he cursed as he paced around the small, dark space. “Now what am I supposed to do? How will I live without the insurance money?”
The stabbing pain in his temple caused him to stumble. Catching hold of the table he waited for the room to stop spinning.
“Maybe it’s not too late. After all, it’s my word against Mills, who would dare not believe me? I could say that he was the one who tried to kill Chelsea, that he wanted her for himself, but that she wanted me.” Fishing the pill bottle from his pocket, Preston warmed to the lies he could spin. “It’s also not too late to get rid of Chelsea and her sidekick. I can make it look as if Mills is responsible.”
Thrilled with his new plan, Preston retrieved his laptop and began making a list.
~~~
“How about I make us a sandwich before we go to bed? The doctor said we should eat something.” Sharon went straight into the kitchen as soon as they arrived home, Hershey moving with her like a shadow. “I know boy, you’re hungry too,” she crooned.
“I’ll help. Do you think we should make something for the guards? God, that sounds strange to say,” Chelsea opened the fridge and began pulling out ingredients.
“Yes, it does, and yes, we should.” Sharon fed Hershey, then stood and watched him eat. “I know it sounds crazy, given that he never meets a stranger, but I feel safer with him here.”
“He’s friendly to everyone but Preston. Remember how I told you he behaved when Preston came to the door that night? Hershey would have eaten him alive, if Mac and I had let him. Too bad we didn’t know then what we know now.” Chelsea sliced tomatoes with a vengeance.
“I know you’re seething, and I don’t blame you, but be careful not to slice your fingers.” Sharon moved to help Chelsea.
“I just want to know why. What did I ever do that was so horrible that he wants me dead? Not just me, but anyone close to me.” Chelsea dropped the knife and tried to get ahold of her temper.
“No clue. Maybe Mac’s right, Preston has lost his mind.”
“But wouldn’t I have seen some indication of that? He’s been nothing but nice and perfectly normal since he arrived.”
“Think about it. Is it normal for Preston Beecher to stay in a shoddy motel for one minute, much less for weeks? Is it normal for Preston Beecher to try and fit into a small town like Starsdale? Is it normal for him to get his hands dirty planting roses, when it would be so much easier to hire someone? None of those things are normal for Preston, but we both assumed that he was trying to get back into your life. Yes, I believed that he was up to something, like trying to get access to your money, but there’s no way we could have seen this coming.”
“You’re right, about all of it. No, I never would have dreamed in a million years that Preston was capable of murder.” Chelsea left the slicing to Sharon, choosing instead to tear lettuce. “I wonder if his family knows yet.”
“Probably. Surely the cops notified them, just in case Preston makes contact.”
“I’m sure they’re having as much trouble believing this as I am. We were never close, but his father and step-mother are nice people. There will be a lot of shocked socialites in San Diego when this gets out.”
“San Diego? Think about the people in Starsdale. Socialites or no, this story will be told and retold a thousand times in the next few weeks, and beyond.” Sharon laughed, then winced. The headache had still not disappeared.
“You’re right. I suppose it will give us something to talk about at the party.” Chelsea grinned tightly, not yet ready to laugh about anything.
“I’ll take these out to the guys. Would you open the patio door for Hershey? He can do his business while we eat. I’m locking the doggie door tonight.”
“Sure thing, come on boy,” Chelsea slid open the door and waited while Hershey bounded outside. “Don’t get dirty, you get to sleep with mama tonight.”
~~~
Preston waited until all the lights in the house had been off for an hour before slipping into the back yard. He’d spotted the two armed guards, timed their movements and knew that he had about three minutes to get inside the house before they patrolled the back again.
Wary of the dog, Preston held the syringe with enough narcotics to take down an elephant in front of him as he moved. Even if the dog barked, he could disable him, shoot both women, drop the evidence framing Mills and be out the door before the two goons made it inside. Madness disguised the flaws in the plan; Preston felt invincible.
~~~
Hershey’s ears perked up seconds after Preston entered the house. A low growl started in the back of his throat and every hair stood straight up on his back.
Sharon woke to the unsettling sounds coming from the oversized puppy. Lying perfectly still, she listened for anything that would make him go on high alert. Was it the guards, making their rounds? Hershey wasn’t used to anyone outside during the night, maybe he was overreacting.
It won’t hurt to be sure, she thought as she threw back the covers.
~~~
Preston felt his way along the hall towards the bedrooms, his eyes not yet accustomed to the dark interior. The moon had been his guide outside, but inside there wasn’t so much as a sliver of light coming through the closed window shades.
Luckily, he had been through the house before, he knew which room was Chelsea’s and which was Sharon’s. Getting the dog out of the way was his first order of business, so he stopped just outside of Sharon’s door to listen for
the mutt.
~~~
Chelsea tossed and turned, praying for sleep but knowing that it would not come. Not tonight. No matter how tired she was, the fact that her ex-fiancé wanted her dead was enough to keep sleep at bay.
Over and over again, she replayed recent moments with Preston in her mind. What had she missed, how could she have prevented this from happening?
The answers never came, no matter how many times she asked the questions. There were no answers, no reason for him to callously try to kill.
Soft footsteps in the hallway claimed her attention. Straining, she listened to hear if Sharon was also having trouble sleeping. The footsteps stopped within seconds of her hearing them. A cold shiver ran up her spine as she lay quietly beneath the covers.
With absolute certainty, she knew that someone was in the house.
~~~
Hershey bounded off the bed in a dead run as soon as Sharon threw back the covers. He knew that someone was standing just outside of the bedroom door. The dog reached the doorway before Sharon could tell him to stop, teeth barred, his low growl now a full-fledged warning.
“Hershey, NO,” Sharon yelled as he disappeared around the corner. Afraid for her pet as well as herself, she took off after him.
~~~
Chelsea bolted out of bed as soon as she heard Hershey’s menacing growl. Sharon’s command was not far behind, but Chelsea was already up. Grabbing the bat that she kept next to her bed, she raced out into the hall.
~~~
Preston heard the growl a half-second before he felt the power of seventy pounds of dog fly into him. He didn’t have time to aim the gun, but he managed to push the needle into the animal’s skin. They landed on the floor together, Hershey on top of the stunned man.
“Get off me, you mongrel,” Preston pushed the limp dog away, then scrambled to his feet. Hearing a noise behind him, he whirled around in time to see Chelsea swing a bat at his head. Pain radiated through his entire body before he dropped back to the floor.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“But how did he get past the guards?” Lila asked. Chelsea and Sharon had fielded the same question at least a dozen times since the party began.
Killer Romances Page 63