“I have to see Emma. Where is she?” Rox kept moving toward the door in the back wall. She suspected the buildings behind this one were dorms and that she might find Emma and the other girls out there.
Ronnie closed the gap and grabbed Rox by her shoulder. “I’ll go get Emma. You need to stay here.”
Rox pulled free, yanked open the interior door, and stepped through. Two industrial table-bench combinations sat in the middle of a large cafeteria with a kitchen on the left. She spotted large stainless-steel appliances through a pass-bar. Windows along the back wall filled the sparse room with natural light. Beyond the glass, she spotted a greenhouse and a concrete bunker. Voices in the kitchen caught her attention, so Rox hurried through the swinging door. A slender blonde girl at the sink turned to face her. Emma!
“Hello, Emma. Your mother is very sick and needs you to come home.”
Confusion played on the girl’s face. Even without makeup, she was pretty in a doll-like way. “I saw you last night at the truck stop.”
“I know. I saved you from an attacker.”
“Why are you following me?” Emma’s confusion morphed into suspicion and anger.
Damn. This wouldn’t be easy. “Because I’m trying to get a message to you that your mother is sick and needs you.” Rox went straight for the heart. “She might be dying. You don’t want to miss your chance to say good-bye.”
Emma crossed her arms. “I don’t believe you.”
Rox kicked herself for not faking some kind of proof.
Emma added, “She would have told me when I saw her the other day.”
Rox was ready for this. “She planned to break it to you easy. But Deacon didn’t give her enough time. He bolted with you as soon as he got the money.”
Ronnie was suddenly in the middle of the conversation. “What money?”
CHAPTER 27
Wild thoughts bounced around Deacon’s head. He would find the bitch who’d been abusing his father and give her a taste of her own bullshit. Better yet, he would keep his calm, get more information, and sue the fucking place for millions. That would solve a lot of issues, including getting Greg Loffland off his back. The son of a bitch really expected him to fork over twenty grand so he and that cunt, Kerry, could have a baby. If the charity could score a donation—or if he won a million-dollar lawsuit—he would pay Greg just to shut him up about the fuel scam.
Deacon slowed for the turn on Barton Road, then hit the accelerator. It was unusual to be leaving the complex again so soon after weeks of peaceful seclusion. First he’d taken Emma to get cash from her mother, then he’d almost left to meet with Loffland yesterday, and now he was on the road again. No wonder he was so irritable.
Margo was getting on his nerves too, with her constant complaining about money, then bitching about his seduction of Emma, even though she knew it was an effort to secure financing. A thought hit him, and he eased off the gas. Margo had been called out yesterday by an urgent care doctor about her daughter—which had turned out to be a mistake. Now he was headed to the nursing home. Was something going on after all? But his dad had made the call, not some doctor, and the old man had sounded upset. Still, he was senile, and this was starting to feel like a pattern. Did someone want him and Margo gone from the complex? She wasn’t home right now either. The members were alone.
Deacon braked and looked for a place to pull off the road. He needed to call his dad and ask a few questions if he could. Maybe he would even talk to a staff member and see if anyone had visited his father that morning. Fuck! Had he been conned?
CHAPTER 28
Before Rox could respond, Emma turned to Ronnie and said, “My mother made a donation, that’s all. And I’m not sure this is your business.”
A rift between the two members? That could only help her cause. Rox stepped toward Emma, wanting to be close enough to grab her if necessary, then turned to face the older girl. “Yes, please give us a minute of privacy.”
“I don’t trust you.” Ronnie glared at Rox with crossed arms.
Emma reached out and touched Ronnie’s hand. “I’m fine. This woman, whoever she is, saved me from some jerk at the truck stop last night. I can at least hear what she has to say.”
Rox cut in. “That jerk might have been the serial killer.”
Both cult sisters spun toward Rox and stared. After a moment, Ronnie laughed and shook her head. “More phony drama.” She rolled her eyes at Emma, then walked out of the room.
Rox took another step toward Emma. “Please just come with me. It’s only temporary. This place will still be here after your mother’s gone.” Rox had a flash of guilt for pushing that extreme emotional button. But she couldn’t let Emma stay and ruin her own life. Or end up dead like Jolene. She just needed a few minutes alone with the girl.
“You’ll bring me back here?” Emma asked with wide eyes.
“Of course.” Rox heard a beep in her pocket. Was that Marty? Had ten minutes passed already? She didn’t want to reach for her phone and break the moment. But she needed to let Marty know she was fine, so he didn’t barge in and spook Emma. But if the entrance locked automatically—as a prison would—he probably couldn’t get inside at all. Rox reached for Emma’s arm and gently tugged her toward the swinging kitchen doors. As they walked through, she slipped her other hand into her pocket, feeling for her phone.
Across the empty cafeteria, the lobby door burst open, and Blackstone charged through. “What the fuck is going on?”
God damn it! Rox braced for trouble but kept moving. He wasn’t armed, thank god. At least not that she could see. “Emma is coming with me to see her mother.”
“Like hell she is.” Blackstone lurched forward and grabbed the girl’s other arm.
“Stop!” Emma shook them both off and backed away. “I want to call my mom.” She held out her hand. “I need a cell phone.”
Rox pulled out her burner phone to show she was willing. But she didn’t want to give Emma the time to make the call. She had to keep this moving before shit got real.
“Don’t believe a word this woman says.” Blackstone used a military commander’s voice, a man who expected his orders to be obeyed.
Rox’s loathing threatened to derail her. She had to bite back several ugly comments.
“She lied to my father to get me out of here,” Blackstone continued. “You can’t trust her.” He stepped toward Emma. “Tell her to go.”
Emma’s lips trembled.
Rox scrambled for a counter-argument. “Deacon Blackstone is a fraud. He’s using the money he got from your mother to pay for his own father’s care in a nursing home.”
Emma’s eyes widened. “I thought it was for veterans.”
Blackstone started to respond, but Rox shouted over him. “Very little of the money he takes in goes to help people. I’ve seen the charity’s books.” Another lie. Rox kept rolling, surprised at her own guile. “He also might have killed Bethany. She was going to leave the cult and take her monthly royalties with her.”
Emma’s mouth dropped open, then snapped shut. “That can’t be true. Any of it.” The girl turned to Blackstone.
He was already pleading with her. “Lies, all lies. You know me. You know the work we do. The police questioned me about Bethany and cleared me.” Blackstone spun toward Rox. “Get the fuck out!”
The power of his voice visibly alarmed Emma, and she started to cry. “I’m so confused.”
Rox spoke with a gentle voice. “He recruits girls with guilt. Girls who hate themselves and are easy to manipulate. He goes after girls whose families have money.” She moved toward Emma, locking eyes with her. “Deacon Blackstone only cares about himself and living the good life—using other people’s guilt and money.” Rox had planned to say all this in the car after they left, but this was her chance.
Something clicked in Emma’s eyes, and she reached out and grabbed Rox’s arm. “Take me to my mother, please.”
Hell yes! Rox grabbed the girl’s hand, spun, and strode t
oward the door.
Blackstone followed, still pleading. “Emma, you need to trust me. You know we feed people at the soup kitchen. What we do here is real and meaningful.”
Rox kept moving, and Emma stayed with her, not looking at Blackstone or responding to him. He kept pace, pleading as they walked. In the lobby, he shouted, “When you realize this bitch is lying to you, remember that I’ll take you back.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Rox watched him storm down the hall, enter another room, and slam the door. She pushed on the bar handle of the main door, keeping a grip on Emma, and they stepped out into the bright sun.
Marty stood a foot away, his hand under his jacket. “Thank god. I was about to go around back and break a window.” He shook his head. “Sorry, but Blackstone slammed in here and got inside before I could stop him. I was trying to warn you.”
“It’s okay. Let’s go.”
“Who is he?” Emma tensed and pulled away from Rox, her expression fearful now.
A car roared into the parking area, and they all looked over. Margo’s minivan.
Rox tensed. Damn! This was supposed to be done. She turned to Emma. “He’s my partner. He’s here to help. Please get in the car.”
The minivan slammed to a stop five feet from them. Margo jumped out, pointed a handgun, and shouted at her and Marty. “Get off this property!”
Oh fuck. Rox instinctively glanced at her stepdad, mentally willing him to keep his gun out of sight. But he was a retired cop, and his Glock was already drawn.
“Emma’s coming with us.” Marty sounded calm.
Abruptly Margo grabbed Emma’s arm and jerked her toward the red mini-van. “Get in, Emma.”
“I want to see my mother,” the girl cried out.
“I’ll take you. Just get in my van. You can’t trust these people.”
What was Margo up to? Rox was flummoxed. This didn’t make sense.
Emma rounded the front of the red vehicle and opened the passenger door on the other side.
Marty, who was closer, shouted, “No, Emma!” He rushed forward, as if to grab the girl.
A sharp blast rang out, and Marty went down.
No! Rox rushed to his aid, glancing up at the crazy woman to see if she would shoot again. Margo was getting into her vehicle.
“Damn it, Marty!” Rox kneeled down, pulling off her jacket to stop the blood gushing from his chest. “Where’s the hole?”
“In my right pec, maybe my lung. Missed my heart.” He grabbed her hand. “I’ll be okay. Go after Emma.” His speech was labored. “Margo isn’t planning to take her home.”
Rox heard the minivan tearing out of the driveway. She didn’t think so either. “I’m not leaving you.”
“You have to.” Marty tried to sit up.
Rox pushed him back down, pressing her jacket against his wound. “Just stay quiet and minimize the bleeding.”
“Roxanne, honey. I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”
“Not now.” She needed to call 911. Where the hell was her phone?
“I have a heart condition,” Marty muttered. “It’s gonna kill me. Maybe not for a couple years, but maybe next month.” His voice was rough, the words catching as waves of pain hit him. “Either way, I have nothing to lose.”
What? He hadn’t even seemed sick. Was this a ploy to get her to go after Emma? No, the truth was on his face. A wave of grief rolled over her, and Rox couldn’t think or speak.
The sound of footsteps broke through her paralysis, and Rox turned, braced for more conflict. A young freckled girl kneeled next to her. “I’m Skeeter. I can help.” The girl pressed on Marty’s wound. “I overhead everything, and I’m worried about Emma. Margo makes all the sisters sign a will that leaves everything to the charity.”
What? Rox tried to process the possibilities. That meant the charity would inherit Bethany’s royalties. But why was Margo taking Emma somewhere? Emma didn’t have any money of her own . . . as long as her parents were alive.
Marty let out a grunt. “See? Emma’s in danger. Go!”
Rox was torn. Marty needed a paramedic. Shit. Her phones were in her pockets. “I need my jacket for a second.”
Skeeter lifted the jacket and a phone slipped out, landing on Marty’s chest. Rox grabbed it, called 911, and reported the incident, giving only the basics and location. Her brain was functioning now, and she had a plan. She held her hand over the phone and turned to Skeeter. “Can you drive?”
“Of course.”
“Great.” Rox spoke again to the dispatcher. “We’ll drive toward the Linnwood Care Facility and meet the ambulance.” She hung up. “Let’s get him in the car.”
Marty sat up, and they grabbed him under his arms. “Ready?” Rox didn’t expect an answer, but Skeeter said yes, still gripping the bloody jacket. Together they lifted Marty to his feet and helped him into the back of his sedan. “Keys?”
Lying down across the seat, Marty pulled them from his pocket, then pressed his hands over his wound. Rox handed the keys to Skeeter. “You drive. I’ll get out down the road where my car is parked.” She climbed into the passenger seat and looked over the back at Marty. “Don’t even think about dying. Six months, two years, whatever you have left—I want every minute of it.”
CHAPTER 29
Emma buckled herself in, afraid of how fast Margo was driving. She closed her eyes and leaned back in the seat, crying softly. Was Deacon a good guy or a con man? Was her mother dying or not? She didn’t know who to trust or believe. This was all so weird and confusing. She looked over at Margo. The woman was obviously upset and focused on something important. The thought scared her even more, and she had to ask, “Why did you shoot that man?”
Margo shook her head, as if Emma had said something stupid. “He had a gun! They were abducting you!”
Were they? It hadn’t seemed like it. The woman—what was her name? Jolene?—had helped her at the truck stop. But maybe Jolene had been there to abduct her that night too. Emma wasn’t surprised to learn her parents had hired someone to bring her home. They thought money solved everything. But something weird was going on here, and it had to involve her mother. Why else would Margo be taking her home? She worked up the courage to ask, “Do you know if my mother is sick?”
Margo let out a harsh laugh. “As if I care.” She snapped her head to look at Emma, her face contorted. “Do you know what that bitch did to me?”
Emma recoiled. Margo knew her mom? How? “Why did you call her a bitch?” She was so confused.
“She stole my boyfriend. My fiancé! We were engaged, and I was supposed to marry Dave. I was supposed to have the good life! And that cunt”—spit flew out of Margo’s mouth—“who was supposed to be my best friend seduced him away from me.”
Would her mother do that? Maybe. She liked to get what she wanted. “When did you know her? In high school?” Emma was still struggling to understand everything she’d heard, and Margo’s hostility was scaring her.
“College too.” Margo made a fast turn onto a new road.
Emma stared out the window, wondering where they were really going. “You’re taking me home, right?”
“Of course.” Margo gave her a nasty smile. “I don’t want you at the property anymore. I’m tired of sharing Deacon with pretty young girls.”
“But Deacon said you had an open relationship.”
Another harsh laugh. “He is so full of shit. And you are so gullible. He only wanted your parents’ money.”
Emma cringed and broke into sobs. How could she have been so stupid? The last four months of her life now seemed like a cruel joke. And so did Margo’s relationship. “Why do you stay with Deacon? And why do you guys even run the soup kitchen?”
“Oh, I’m done with Deacon. He just doesn’t know it yet.” Margo abruptly pulled off the road into a turnout with no house in sight.
A flash of fear shot through Emma’s chest. “Why are we stopping?”
“I have a quick thing to take care of.” M
argo fumbled in her pocket, then turned to face her.
Emma saw the needle coming too late. Margo plunged it into her arm before she could even protest. The drug hit hard, and her body went weak. Emma tried to speak but couldn’t form words. The last thing she saw was a big roll of silver duct tape.
CHAPTER 30
Margo glanced at the dumb blonde girl, now unconscious, and hoped Emma’s parents would be as easy to handle. What she had in mind was unlike anything she’d ever done. Well, except for killing Bethany. But that had been recent and rather spontaneous. Sort of. She’d hated Bethany since Deacon started screwing her months ago. She’d also fantasized about killing other sisters Deacon seduced, but actually doing it—strangling the life out of Bethany—had been a whole new experience. Intense and exhilarating! So much bottled rage had come gushing out, it almost scared her.
But it was such an easy way to solve problems. Why hadn’t she done it before? Like when Jenny stole Dave from her. She should have killed the bitch, then comforted Dave, and won him back. Her whole life would have been different. Ronnie’s life would have been different. Margo let out a harsh sound, halfway between a laugh and a sob. Actually Ronnie wouldn’t even exist. The baby she would have made with Dave would be like the sweet, easy girl slumped next to her—instead of the troubled, addicted, pain-in-the-ass kid Ronnie had been.
Margo glanced at Emma again. Spoiled little brat. A loud honk startled her, and Margo jerked her head back to the road. She had to calm herself, focus on driving, and mentally walk through her plan. This was her ticket out. Out of her disgusting job as a caregiver and all the damn back pain that went with it, out of the ugly, isolated concrete complex, and out of her fucked-up relationship with Deacon. Now it all depended on the Carsons keeping a pile of cash in the house, probably in a safe.
She was confident they would part with it to keep Emma from getting her head blown off. Margo really wanted to get her hands on all the money they had in the bank too. Maybe millions. Technically it would have belonged to her if Jenny hadn’t stolen Dave. Could she really access it? She’d been obsessing about it for months, originally thinking she would kill the Carsons first, then after Emma inherited the money, snuff her. Maybe make it look like the serial killer—if he still hadn’t been caught by then. But that was a long-term plan that required patience, and she’d run out. When those people had come to take Emma, Margo had seen all the money evaporating, and she’d panicked. But plan B should work just fine.
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