by Ren Benton
“I had a choice of what to refill myself with. I got a new life with the benefit of knowing all the ways I wasted the last one and a chance to do it right this time. I’ve been waiting a long time to thank you for giving me that.” He rested his cheek against her hair. “I’ve been waiting a long time to ask if you’d be part of my new life.”
“Yes.”
The uncharacteristic brevity caused him to cock his head back and inspect her face. “That’s it?”
She shrugged. “You like short, simple answers. No point giving a soliloquy when one word does the job. Do you want to argue about it?”
He laughed. “No, I do not. Yes is a fine answer. I’ll take it, and you, and you can tell me the details later.”
Jestus returned to the conference room two and a half episodes of House Hunters later. “Sorry for the delay. Houle hasn’t checked out of his hotel, but he also hasn’t been seen since yesterday. There’s a possibility he tailed you to Denver. We’re searching for his rental car, but if he is here, it’s reasonable to assume he’s close enough to keep his lens on you.”
Gin glanced at the windows she’d insisted on sitting far away from. “Always nice to have my paranoia validated.”
“Unfortunately, I can’t get you a full-time guard until tomorrow. Most of our people are based closer to where they work — L.A., New York, D.C., London — so we have to fly in a team to look after you. What I can do in the meantime is put you up for the night in a hotel with top-notch security.”
Lex stretched, joints popping from another day of inactivity. “I’m sure it will be reflected on the invoice.”
Jestus flashed a broad grin. “On the house, as an apology for being unable to assist you in a timely manner. Trust me, I don’t need to pad the invoice to make you flinch.”
They were provided an escort, who followed them to the hotel where accommodations had been arranged and hovered until they were safely inside the lobby.
While they awaited service at the front desk, Gin’s phone rang.
Jestus said, “Houle’s car pulled into the parking lot as your escort was leaving.”
She battled the urge to hide behind a column. “Now what?”
“Leo came back around and is keeping an eye on Houle. You have two options. You can stay at the hotel as planned, or I can drop off a car at the rear entrance and you can go home.”
“Is that safe?”
“We’ve got him pinned down. He’s not going anywhere without an unfriendly shadow.”
Nothing that seemed this easy ever was. “I thought you didn’t have anyone available until tomorrow.”
“I don’t have a qualified full-time bodyguard available until tomorrow. Surveillance and obstruction I can provide on demand.”
She conveyed the new development to Lex. “Do you want to spend the night or go home?”
He didn’t hesitate. “I want to finish your music. If the Ghoule is out of the picture, I vote home.”
Gin just wanted to get as far away from Garth Houle as possible. She told Jestus, “Please send the car.”
Fifteen minutes later, they pulled away from the service entrance in a borrowed Lexus. Between city traffic, the distance to Grayson, and a stop at a roadside diner for dinner, it was fully dark by the time they got back to the house.
Gin toed off her shoes while tapping news of their safe return into the alarm panel. She emptied her pockets onto the table in the entryway, depositing her keys and phone. “I’m going to get some water. Want a glass?”
“Please. That pork chop was extra salty.” Lex headed in the opposite direction. “If you bring it to the studio, I’ll let you engineer for me.”
Playing lackey to a bossy and demanding diva pulling an all-nighter sounded like a lousy way to wrap up a long day. On the other hand, the job would put her close enough to use nudity and suggestive language to persuade him to call it quits before he overextended himself too much.
She poured two glasses of water and refilled the pitcher. While the faucet hissed and sputtered and the water level rose, she tried on the idea that everything would be all right now, just to see how optimism fit. Like an underwire bra or sky-high heels, it wasn’t entirely comfortable on her. No matter how well she and Lex got along in private, Perry-Greene attracted a lot of external strife, the least of which would mean a return to round-the-clock security.
To protect him, she’d learn to like the discomfort.
She reshelved the water pitcher. The refrigerator heaved an exasperated sigh when the act released enough cold air to force it to work. She flipped off the kitchen lights with her elbow and carried the glasses through the dining room. When she reached the threshold of the living room, those lights went out on their own.
She stood in the darkness, silence so profound she could hear the glasses sweating in her hands. A circuit must have blown.
The refrigerator stopped, too.
Okay, two circuits. Power surges happened. The whole point of the circuit breaker was to shut down in such an event, so it was functioning as intended. The electrical panel was just down the hall on the other side of the kitchen. Easy enough to fix.
She elbowed the switch on the dining room wall, hoping for enough light to bounce down that hall.
The switch was dead.
She’d left the generator on standby in case of another power failure. It should have roared to life and restored the lights by now.
Unless someone switched it off in preparation of cutting the power.
Houle might be under surveillance in Denver, but he hadn’t worked alone last time. His style was to have someone else do the really dirty work — all the better when Houle himself had an alibi supported by a respected security firm. This murderer would call him to report there was a bloody panorama to photograph, and Houle would show up, this time tragically too late to call 911.
It was probably just the main breaker. She did have a history of overreacting to power failure.
What about the generator?
If she went down that blackened corridor and encountered a madman waiting with his finger on the switch, she’d be dead and Lex would have no warning, no chance to escape.
She set the glasses on the table in the entry area, gently so her shaking hands didn’t cause a clatter. She patted the surface of the table, passing over her useless-without-Wi-Fi phone and the metal porcupine of her key ring. The only key that would do them any good was the one that started the engine of their mode of escape.
She found it and seized it like a talisman.
Lone key clenched in her fist, she crept across the living room, sticking close to the couch and stooped low so she didn’t present a clear target against the window. She still felt exposed, but it inspired less dread than her destination. The studio was the worst place in the house to be — tight space, limited exits, no lock. It would be easy to get trapped down there, but she had to find Lex.
If it’s not already too late.
Why not enlist two killers as insurance the job was done properly? Fogle had gone off script when left unsupervised. Peer pressure would keep everyone focused on the task at hand, and teamwork would make subduing the victims more efficient.
Lex should have called out by now. Her throat might be choked with terror, but anyone else would say something about being cast into darkness, especially twice in one week.
Especially when he knew she had a nervous breakdown under similar circumstances.
Lex would say something.
If he could.
Dim rectangles gaped along the blackened hallway — bathroom, office, and three bedrooms faintly illuminated by moonlight. Each doorway held potential for both escape and ambush.
Gin hesitated at the edge of the first door. Was the boogeyman behind her or ahead?
Or both.
Blood a deafening whoosh in her ears, she slipped past the office door. A darting glimpse inside showed no movement, no monster silhouetted against the window.
Rather than easing
her mind, the reprieve intensified her panic. If there was danger along this hallway, the odds of finding it through the next door had improved to one in four.
She dashed past Ethan’s room.
An arm shot out and yanked her inside.
Screaming was a reflex. She had no voice for it, but her mouth opened and emptied her lungs.
“It’s me,” Lex breathed in her ear.
She had no voice to sob, either.
He wasted no more time on hollow reassurance. “He’s coming through the living room. We have to get out now.”
He pushed her toward the window, then eased the door shut and locked it. The intruder would know they were inside, but it would take him precious extra seconds to kick through the barrier.
Huge planes of glass maximized the lake view, but windows near the floor slid open to provide ventilation. Rather than waste their shrinking time advantage removing the screen, Lex put his foot through the mesh.
Gin slithered out feet first. The crunchy snow piled against the foundation gave way beneath her bare feet, dropping her soles on the rocky ground as she slid free of the window.
Lex’s feet came after her, followed by long legs, narrow hips, and abdomen bared as his shirt rucked up on the window frame.
That was as far as he got.
He hung there, wedged at his armpits, shoulders too broad to squeeze through the opening. “Fuck. Run, Gin.”
Her lips made a soundless no no no no no. She grabbed him with both hands, pulling at him, shoving at his chest as if she could deflate him. She would not let him go, would not leave him trapped and easy to kill.
He twisted, and her pulling budged him another inch. He angled his shoulders and came free of the trap with a pained hiss. He jerked his shirt down to cover the dark streaks where the escape had claimed skin.
The monster wouldn’t waste time trying to squeeze through that window. He’d head for another exit, one they would have to pass to reach the car.
She’d given up the key when she grabbed Lex and now had to waste precious time pawing through the snow, unable to explain why she fought his attempts to pull her away.
Her fingers were stinging with cold when they finally hooked the key. She staggered away from the window. Heedless of the cost to her unprotected feet, Lex herded her ahead of him, urging her toward the driveway.
“Playtime’s over, kids!”
The sound of Houle’s voice startled Gin so badly, she tripped on her own toes and fell, banging her knees and scraping her palms.
Lex helped her up. A hand low on her back encouraged her to keep going.
“I will shoot you where you stand.”
Lex had been careful to keep himself between her and the house. He would be the one getting shot.
He kept pushing, unsubtly communicating that was a risk he was willing to take, but Gin wasn’t. Houle wanted her. There had to be a way for Lex to get out of this unharmed.
She just needed enough time to find it.
She wasn’t going to run, dammit.
Lex turned to face Houle, who waited on the deck. As implied, he held a long-barreled gun aimed in their direction. The top half of his face was covered by goggles, night vision or infrared.
Hiding from him wasn’t an option.
“Now what, Houle?”
“Now you come in out of the cold and pose for a few photos. They might not make me famous this time, but they’ll make me rich. For every kind of memorabilia, there’s a collector with too much money.”
A villain who explained his evil plan clearly wasn’t worried about the witnesses being alive to testify, dispelling any lingering doubt that Houle wanted another set of crime scene photos. “Do you have a collector, or does it just make you feel better about yourself to think someone is sick enough to appreciate your ‘work’?”
One way or another, Gin was getting out of this. The more details she had about threats to her safety, the safer she would be.
“C’mon, Perry. You know a real artist follows his muse. Compromising our integrity doing commissions is beneath us.”
Lex had grabbed his phone in the studio to use as a flashlight. They should have headed into the trees, toward the mobile tower and the ability to call for help, but he’d been so sure the car on the other side of the house was the obvious choice.
So obvious, the bad guy set up an ambush rather than give chase.
“You know, she was three feet from the front door but went after you instead. You’re wasting everybody’s time hoping she’ll wise up and leave you again.”
Goddammit, Gin. I just told you saving me isn’t your job.
He saw little choice but to climb the stairs. Houle stood back and kept the gun aimed at Lex’s chest, a target that kept him from charging and Gin from bolting.
He would have to risk it at some point and attempt to overpower Houle, but now wasn’t the time. The man had too many advantages. Picking off Lex would leave Gin defenseless, which was exactly what Houle wanted.
He’d sacrifice himself to save her, not to make her easier prey.
He needed an opening to hurt Houle.
In the meantime, he shielded Gin with his body, using his hands to keep her penned behind his back.
She eased the phone out of the rear pocket of his jeans.
His heart accelerated when the phone slipped free. If he could get her into the office and keep Houle occupied, she’d have a chance to call for help — or better yet, slide out another window, run like hell, and call for help after she’d left the killer miles behind.
If Houle wanted to brag about his plans, Lex would oblige. “We thought you followed us to Denver.”
“I hoped you would.” Houle wagged the gun to motion him through the sliding door. “I wish I’d known you were staying overnight. I could have taken my time.”
The house felt like a trap closing around them, but it also offered cover, weapons. “Must be hard to break and enter under pressure.”
“Oh, I didn’t break anything. My friend Simone left a key and the alarm code waiting for me at the hotel.”
Gin gasped and froze behind him.
Lex squeezed her hip, silently urging her to focus on the only thing that mattered: escape. “Bullshit.”
“Junior, I never would have found this hick town if the stage mother to end all stage mothers didn’t throw herself at every opportunity to sell out her daughter for five more seconds of fame.”
The sad thing was, Lex believed him. Houle couldn’t follow Gin as closely as he did without someone close to her feeding him information, and only one person close to her would betray her that way.
Houle closed the sliding door. “Turns out I didn’t need the code to get in because Aubrey ran out of here without setting it, but I made sure to take care of that before you got back so you wouldn’t worry about who might have gotten in while you were away.”
He’d kept the trap in pristine condition so the prey felt safe strolling inside. “Who’s in your car?”
“Some wahoo keen to play private eye. I gave him a hundred dollars and a camera and told him to get pictures of you in a clinch for your wife’s divorce case.”
Lex nudged Gin back another step with his foot. She took several, moving out of his reach. “What wife?”
Houle shrugged. “Celebrities aren’t known for their fidelity. Who knew self-righteous rednecks were so easily motivated by stereotypes? That’s far enough.”
The office and its one bar of mobile service were still thirty feet away.
“Do you have a preference for roles in the murder-suicide? Hot-headed drunk versus brutal murderess is plausible either way. Staging is your forte, Ginny. What do you think?”
She turned away, refusing to participate.
Hiding the phone.
“Why are you doing this?” Lex drew Houle’s attention back toward him so she could inch toward the office. “It’s been ten years. You got away with what you did to Fogle.”
“You know, I thought s
o, too. I thought we had all agreed on the official version of events and moved on with our lives. But when you threatened me, in front of your cop pal, with your knowledge about what happened that night, I got the impression Ginny told you a truth I was unaware she knew.”
Lex dragged a hand across his big fucking mouth. If he’d kept it shut, this wouldn’t be happening.
Or it would have happened next year or five years from now or whenever Houle’s guilty conscience warned him he was in danger of being found out — or when he needed cash. Gin was in danger as long as this asshole was on the loose, and Lex blaming himself wasn’t making her any safer.
“Why didn’t you say anything during the trial, Ginny?”
She swiped a hand across her throat. Her open mouth produced only a silent exhalation.
“Aw, poor thing. I forgot you go mute under pressure.”
Lex’s heart kicked. How could she use the phone if she couldn’t speak?
“You stopped Fogle and gave her a chance not to bleed to death,” he improvised an answer to the mystery of her silence during the trial. Now that Houle had shown his hand, claiming ignorance wouldn’t earn their freedom. “There was no way she was going to prison for murder. It all worked out for the best.”
Houle laughed. “If you just hadn’t lost your temper with me, we all could have lived happily ever after. It’s not like I make a habit of killing people. An occasional arranged mugging or conspiring with a date to get a nip slip or upskirt on film, sure. The stars get free publicity. The masses get their entertainment. I get my money. Nobody gets hurt.” His voice hardened with businesslike chill. “Except that one time, which needs to be wrapped up after a prolonged delay of game.”
Lex had obviously been trying to herd Gin toward a mobile connection since she stole his phone, but bars were useless without a voice to make use of them. She needed someone to speak for her.
Someone like Houle.
She’d activated one of Lex’s recording apps while the phone had been sandwiched between them to suppress the light from the screen. Now, she held the front of the phone tight against her stomach. She hoped the app was a good one for recording at a distance. She hoped the back microphone asserted its dominance over a front one that would pick up only her racing heartbeat.