The List

by Velvet Vaughn

  Lauren’s attempt to mimic Jorge’s accent, complete with hand gestures, had them all laughing. She plopped on the sofa beside Jac and they filled their plates with crispy tortilla chips and spicy salsa.

  Forgoing the appetizer, Matt dropped into a chair and crossed his arms. Silent intimidation. Jac chewed on her lips to keep from smiling.

  “Dirk Hill told Cindy that he was going to ask me to the dance,” Lauren began, talking a mile a minute. She dipped another chip in the chunky red sauce. “I’m excited because Dirk is the hottest guy in not only tenth grade, but the whole school. And,” she added breathlessly, “he has his driver’s license already.”

  Jac narrowed her eyes at the grumbling man who’d added foot tapping to his repertoire. Pasting on an encouraging smile, she focused on Lauren again.

  “Dirk’s on the football team, just like you, Dad.” Lauren fluttered her lashes. “After his workout, he waited until I finished with cheer practice. Well, Kayla saw him first and then Cindy…” Lauren proceeded to describe in detail how all the other girls made a big deal over hunky Dirk and Jac realized how much Lauren must miss having a female around to talk about these things. Matt was a great father and Lauren idolized him, but some things a girl just needed to discuss with another woman. Jac wondered how Matt had dealt with sensitive issues, especially sex.

  “Then Dirk grabbed my hand and walked me over to the bleachers away from the other girls.”

  Matt rumbled like a chain saw starting up, one push of a button and it would pick up speed and volume.

  “Well, Billy Phillips was shooting baskets. Billy’s sweet. His grandfather is the gym custodian. A nice man. He and his wife adopted Billy when their daughter ran off to join a cult or something. Billy calls him Dad, even though technically he’s his grandfather.”

  “Lauren, princess, you’re digressing.” Matt tapped his fingers against the chair. “I’m waiting to hear what Jerk said to you.”

  “Dirk, Daddy, and I’m getting to it.” She rolled her eyes and mouthed “sheesh” to Jac as she inhaled another chip. Jac couldn’t stop the amusement that bubbled up her throat. Her laughter set off Lauren.

  “You were saying about Jerk?” Matt prompted stone-faced.

  “Dirk,” the women shouted in unison.

  “We’ll see,” Matt muttered.

  “Where was I before I was rudely interrupted?” She wrinkled her nose at her dad but her eyes widened at the expression on his face. She cleared her throat. “Billy shot a basket and it sailed over the backboard and bounced on the bleachers by Dirk and I. The ball almost hit me in the head but I was able to lift my arm in time and it barely grazed my shoulder. It was an accident and didn’t even hurt. Well, Dirk went ballistic.” She used her hands animatedly to illustrate her story. “He started yelling at Billy and threw the ball at him and hit him hard in the chest. When I tried to get Dirk to calm down, he ignored me and continued to shout and make a scene. He was blowing the entire episode completely out of proportion. People started to gather and poor Billy was about to cry. He kept trying to apologize to me but Dirk wouldn’t let him get a word in edgewise.

  “Billy stutters sometimes when he’s nervous. First Dirk mocked his speech and then started throwing derogatory insults, calling Billy the ‘R’ word. Well, I just snapped and slapped him hard.”

  Lauren chewed another bite. “My smack stunned Dirk and as he held a hand to his reddened cheek, I told him I wouldn’t go across the street with him, let alone to the dance and that he was the most insensitive, insufferable, arrogant jerk—you got that part right, Daddy—I’d ever had the misfortune to meet.

  “All the kids started clapping and Dirk stomped away, furious. I went to Billy, who was all embarrassed and had tears in his eyes from Dirk’s assault, and asked him if he would be my date to the dance.”

  “Oh Lauren…” Jac threw her arms around the girl. “That was the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.” She felt rather than saw Matt move and she pulled back, wiping moisture from her eyes.

  “I’m proud of you, sweetheart.” He hugged her. The phone jangled and Matt excused himself. While he was gone, Lauren grabbed Jac’s hands. “Will you please come with me to find a dress? If I go with Dad, I’d end up in something pink, frilly and floor length with long sleeves and a high neck.” She shuddered in mock horror.

  “I’d love to.” Jac laughed. She couldn’t get over what a special person Lauren was. She thought back to her high school experience and wondered if she would have had the courage to do what Lauren had done. Probably not, she reflected sadly. Her mind conjured an image of Nicole’s stepsister, Nellie. She remembered clearly the hurt and betrayal on Nellie’s face the last time she saw her.

  Matt walked back into the living room. “That was Mrs. Phillips, Billy’s mom…er…grandmother.” He waved his hand. “Anyway, Billy and his grandfather just arrived home and she said Billy was bouncing off the walls. She’d never seen him that happy. She burst into tears, telling me what a special daughter I had and she wanted to let you know how much what you did means to her and her husband. But, she said they wouldn’t hold you to the offer and would completely understand if you wanted to go with someone else.”

  Lauren popped off the couch in a flash. “I would never do that. I meant it when I asked him to go with me. What did you tell her, Dad?”

  Matt smiled. “Exactly that, I told her you looked forward to attending the dance… with Billy.”

  A brilliant grin spread across her face. “Thanks. Guess what?” She clapped her hands together and looked at Matt expectantly.

  “What?”

  “Jac agreed to go with me to pick out a dress.”

  He frowned. “I was going to take you.”

  “No offense, Daddy, but you and I have different styles. You would have me covered from head to toe.”

  “And exactly what’s wrong with layers?” he asked haughtily.

  * * * *

  Matt walked Jac to her car while Lauren retreated to her room to finish homework. “Thanks for inviting me over, you know, for Lauren’s sake.”

  “Um hmm,” Matt responded.

  She didn’t think he heard her. He was looking at her like she was a fluffy little lamb and he was the big bad wolf.

  “I-I should go get Dan.”

  “Um hmm.”

  He slid his hands under her hair and dipped his head. She gasped in his mouth and he took advantage and deepened the kiss. She fisted her hands in his sweatshirt to keep from sliding to the ground in a quivering mass. His mouth was devouring her, consuming her.

  He spun her around trapped her against the Jeep. Peeling her hands from his pullover, he wrapped them around his neck and pressed closer.

  She made a guttural sound at the contact. He tore his mouth from hers and burned a trail down her neck, leaving goose bumps in his wake. Shuddering, she dug her nails in his shoulders and threw her head back against the window.

  He rolled his hips, pressing against her in a slow, sensual rhythm. His mouth found hers again and she wanted to die from the sensations. She was close, blissfully close. As if reading her mind, he gripped her waist and shoved her higher, letting her feet dangle as he pinned her against the car. She wrapped her legs around his hips and his hands came around to cup her bottom, holding her in place. When he rocked into her again, her entire body exploded into thousands of tiny, shimmering pieces. His mouth covered hers, drowning out her screams.

  When she floated back down to earth, he wrenched his lips free and dropped his head against her forehead. His chest rose and fell.

  They heard the voices at the same time. He released her and stepped back, a hand forking through his hair. “I’m sorry, Jac. I didn’t mean to get carried away

  She stared at his retreating back as he moved around the car to greet Dan and Luke, trying to regain her equilibrium. She hadn’t moved a muscle. Her entire world just tilted on its axis.

  When sanity returned, she realized Lauren could have walked right up and witnessed
their passionate encounter. Thank goodness the Jeep blocked them from Dan and Luke’s view. She should be embarrassed but all she felt was frustration that they’d been interrupted.

  Gathering her strength, she pushed away from the vehicle and attempted to fluff the flat spot from where her head had pressed against the glass. Dan appeared as she fiddled with her clothing.

  “Ready to call it a night, Chica?”

  Either he was being a gentleman or was oblivious to what had just transpired.

  He eyed her curiously. “Is something wrong, Jac? Do you feel okay?”

  Oblivious.

  “I’m fine.” Better than fine. In fact she might never be the same again. “Ready when you are.”

  Dan opened the passenger door and helped her inside. She buckled her belt and then pivoted to face Matt. He was talking to Luke but he looked up and their eyes locked. She had the sensation of falling into a bottomless pit. He didn’t smile, didn’t wave, just held up his end of the conversation, nodding and talking to his friend, keeping her gaze the entire time.

  Dan gave the horn a tap and pulled away, forcing her to break eye contact. Dan must have asked her a question because he gently shook her arm.

  “Are you sure you’re okay, Jac?”

  “I’m just tired.” She faked a yawn. “Long day.”

  Fifteen

  October 11

  “You sure you don’t wanna grab a beer tonight?” Hal Freemont lifted his brows, but Darlene was so tired she could barely think. She sent him away with the promise of a rain check.

  A door clicked closed behind her and she watched Jac leave with the hunky computer programmer. He had his hand on her lower back and had practically plastered himself to her side.

  Apparently not one, but two gorgeous hunks were fighting for Jac’s affections. Darlene fingered the note on her desk. Matt Dianetti called while she was on the phone with the chemical company negotiating chlorine supplies. Oops, she forgot to give her the message.

  She crumpled the note and tossed it in the trash.

  * * * *

  October 12

  Jac’s cell beeped as she tugged a sleeve and draped the jacket over a hook in the hallway. Only four people had the number. Could it be Matt?

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s Logan.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “Oh. Hey, Logan. Where are you?”

  “Please, try not to sound so excited to hear my voice. You wouldn’t want to feed my tremendous ego.”

  “I just left you thirty seconds ago.”

  Logan chuckled. “Well, to answer your question, I’m in your driveway. I wanted to let you know you have a package on your porch. Did you order something?”

  “No, not that I remember.”

  “I’ll grab it on my way in.”

  She hung up and walked to the front door. She clicked the bolt and opened the door as Logan jogged up her steps. She spotted the package wrapped in brown paper, her name printed in bold black letters.

  “No return address or postage.” She bent closer and inhaled audibly, her hand blindly reaching out to Logan. “I think it’s ticking.”

  “Get in the house!” He dropped to the porch and stuck his ear next to the box. “Shit.” He pulled out his phone and punched in a number. “I’m getting a bomb squad here. I want you to leave, Jac. Go, get in your car and drive away but stay in the neighborhood. Keep checking your mirrors and if you see anyone following you, call me immediately. I’ll let you know when it’s safe.”

  “But what about you? If it is a bomb, what about the neighbors?”

  “The police will handle it. Here, catch.” He tossed her his keys. “Take mine—I’m blocking you. Go. Now.”

  Stepping gingerly around the package, she darted down the steps. She watched from the driver’s seat until he made a rude shooing motion with his hand. She got the message. Backing his Suburban down the driveway, she shifted to drive and motored down the street as fire trucks rushed past.

  She drove aimlessly around her neighborhood streets, checking periodically for tailing cars. She kept an eye out for ominous black clouds and even rolled down the windows and muted the radio, listening for loud booms. The phone rang, causing her to scream and almost veer into a parked car. She pulled to the curb with shaky hands. “Hello?”

  “False alarm. You can come home.”

  She hung up and pulled into her driveway less than fifteen seconds later. Logan’s head swiveled and his brows rose in surprise at her speedy appearance. Several police cars lined the street, swirling red and blue lights reflecting off the white aluminum siding of neighboring houses. A small crowd assembled across the street. A cop stood with his feet braced apart, his arms crossed, guarding the crime scene. A man perched over the suspicious box snapping pictures. She bounded up the steps to Logan’s side and tentatively peered inside. An alarm clock with an insidious bright yellow face smiled up at her, the words BOOM printed in neat black print taped to the front. The clock, set to approximately ten twenty-nine, rested on a shiny red confetti pillow which resembled teeny, tiny bits of blood.

  Logan’s hand gripped her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, her eyes glued to the macabre display. “Who would do this?”

  “It was probably just someone playing a joke, you know, with Halloween close and all,” a detective on the scene remarked.

  She managed a small smile at his attempt to reassure her, but this was no prank.

  * * * *

  October 13

  The next afternoon, Logan received a call from the police informing him that the box had been analyzed but no prints were found. He hung up and relayed the news to Jac. She couldn’t mask her frustration. “Well, it was a long-shot.”

  “You know, the police are skeptical that this is the work of a serial killer.”

  “What will it take to convince them? My dead body?”

  “Probably.” Logan’s brows pulled together. “I tend to agree with them.”

  She sprung from her chair. “How could you think that? When did you change your mind? You said you believed me.”

  “Calm down,” Logan ordered. “I didn’t change my mind. But Luke and I talked—”

  “Luke doesn’t believe me either?”

  Logan narrowed his eyes until she cooled down. Retaking her seat, she crossed her arms and tilted her head grudgingly for him to finish.

  “I still believe a psycho is on the loose. But I don’t think the fake bomb gimmick is something the killer would attempt. We need to look at this from a different angle.” When she started to protest again, he held out his hand. “Just hear me out. The alleged murderer has been targeting the men on the list. If that theory holds, Matt is next in line, not you.”

  “Maybe he’s trying to throw us off.”

  Logan shook his head. “I don’t think so. Serial killers tend to stick to the same patterns. You found the note on your car, then the calls and now the fake bomb…”

  She uncrossed her arms. “I think I see what you’re saying,” she admitted reluctantly. “It’s all a little…junior high school.”

  “Exactly. The killer has managed to escape being caught at least fourteen times. That means he has to be smart and crafty.”

  She finished his thought. “And if he sent notes or made silly calls, they could have been on record and the police might have investigated a potential stalker and wouldn’t have been as quick to rule the death accidental.”

  “Bingo. Our guy couldn’t take that kind of risk. I think we need to look at this separately from the murders. My guess is that you’re being targeted by a stalker. Do you know of anyone who could be obsessed with you?”

  “A stalker?” Jac shifted restlessly in her seat, her gaze straying. “No. No, it’s just not possible. Uh, I don’t know. Well, maybe.”

  Logan cocked an amused eyebrow. “Done?”

  She scrunched her nose. “Well, one possibility, but…no, it can’t be him. He wouldn’t—”

  “Damn
it, Jac, who is it?”

  She gathered papers and tamped them against the desk. “A guy I knew in California.”

  “Why do you think it could be him?”

  “He was one reason why I left.”

  “Was he stalking you?”

  She nodded. “We only went out a few times—as friends—and he started getting clingy, smothering. I told him up front that I wasn’t interested in a relationship. He said he understood and was okay with the arrangement. I thought I was doing him a favor. I don’t think he had many girlfriends. Or dates.

  “When he started with the obsessive behavior, I told him I didn’t want to see him, even as friends. He went ballistic. I broke the news at a restaurant and he made a huge scene, begging me to stay with him. He acted as if we’d been together four years not four friend-dates. After that, he started sending me flowers daily, would show up at places where I was and would call and cry, begging me to take him back. I even found him waiting outside my apartment.”

  “Did you take out a restraining order?”

  “No, he never threatened me. He’s an accountant, for goodness sake. He was just a pain. I asked a client who was a cop what to do and he said since he hadn’t made threats and was pretty much harmless, to ignore him and maybe he would go away. He didn’t, but I never felt in physical danger.”

  “Maybe your moving away set him off.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t know, he’s pretty spineless.”

  “Why did you go out with him in the first place?”

  She shrugged. “I felt sorry for him. He came to the club on a trial membership and almost killed himself on the bench press machine. His little toothpick arms could barely lift the bar even without weights.”

  “That’s a reason to go out with someone? Four times?”

  Jac flushed. “I didn’t go out with him. We went on non-romantic, social outings… a flea market, a gallery exhibit, dinner twice. I considered him a friend.”