“Listen up, Block. We know you’ve been stalking Jac. Be a man for once and admit it and do the time.”
Harvey blinked and then a puzzled look dipped his brows. “Aren’t you Matt Dianetti, the former quarterback?”
“Who I am isn’t important.”
“Jacqueline is a big fan. She even had you on a list—”
“Listen, Block. You’re a threat to Jac’s safety, consequently you’re a threat to me.”
Harvey shook his head. “Oh no, I would never hurt—”
The door smacked open again and all eyes turned to watch Luke saunter inside. He casually twirled a toothpick in his mouth. “Dianetti, leave Mr. Block here alone.” He patted Harvey’s shoulder.
Jac rolled her eyes. They’d obviously worked out their good cop/bad cop routine in the waiting area.
“We don’t know that Harvey—can I call you Harvey?—” he didn’t wait for permission—“has committed these horrible crimes. He seems genuinely concerned about Jac’s welfare. Don’t you Harv?”
Harvey nodded enthusiastically.
“I’m sure he had nothing to do with the bomb, did you, Harv-man?”
“No.”
“Or the phone calls?”
Harvey paled. “W-well…”
“Or the threatening notes?”
“Absolutely not!”
“So you admit to making the phone calls?”
“I just wanted to hear her voice.”
“And to stalking her house?”
“I just wanted to see her face.”
“And to breaking into her home and leaving harassing messages?”
He tossed his head from side to side. “I tried to talk to her until this big brute came up and…uuhh! It was you!” Harvey pointed to Logan, who’d slipped inside unnoticed. “Okay, okay, I’ll admit I called Jacqueline but I was too nervous to talk and I did stop by her house and try to see her. But that’s it.”
“Oh yeah? Then how did you get this cut?” Luke jerked Harvey’s left arm to display the four inch bandage covering his forearm. “When you wrecked the truck after you tried to run her off the road?”
“No! I hurt it when I ran from her house. It was dark and I didn’t see the water hose. I tripped and fell and hit a rock. Honestly. I would never, ever hurt her. I love her.”
So much for good cop Luke. Jac sighed.
“That’s enough,” she announced as Matt opened his mouth. “Leave us, please.”
Logan pulled a scowling Matt by the shirt and dragged him out the door.
“Harvey, all you did was call?”
He nodded. “I usually got your machine. I didn’t leave messages. I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“How many times did you come by my house?”
“Just that one time.”
She nodded and stood. “Okay. I believe you. I can’t say the same for the police but I’ll talk to them.”
“I knew you’d help me. Wait… Where are you going?”
She stepped into the hall and nodded to the officer who disappeared to retrieve Harvey. She was practically accosted by Matt as he enveloped her in a bear hug.
“He’s innocent,” she said against his chest.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, he’s weak and needy, but he’s not a killer.”
Detective Hurley approached and she explained her feelings. After insisting she didn’t want to file charges, the detective reluctantly promised he would do what he could about getting Harvey released.
* * * *
As Matt pulled away from the station, Luke asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to press charges against Block?”
“He’s harmless… Oh no!” She grabbed the arm rests as her eyes widened.
Matt swerved into an empty lot and slammed the brakes. “What is it, Jac?”
“I just remembered something.” She turned to face all the men. “Harvey said I was your fan. And that I even had you on a list.”
She looked from Matt to Luke and Logan in the backseat. “Don’t you see?”
At their confused expressions, she closed her eyes.
“I never told him about the lists.”
Twenty-six
October 23
Jac accompanied Matt on a Sunday morning cruise around Lake Monroe. He called it a boat. Jac thought a better description would be yacht. He cut the motor and they floated aimlessly in a small cove, blessedly alone, away from bodyguards and threatening notes and ringing phones. Okay, so Luke and Logan were fishing off the back of the boat. Still, it felt like they were alone.
It should have been the perfect retreat, but she couldn’t quit thinking about the murders.
Under further interrogation, Harvey confessed that Darlene exposed the details of the infamous lists. He sought her out when Jac refused to see him. After coercion from Matt and Luke, she agreed to consider pressing charges until the date they’d created the list passed or results from a DNA test came back.
Lounging on a cushy white bench seat, she adjusted her floppy hat to block out the sun and pushed her round black sunglasses higher on her nose. “If our theory is correct and the deaths aren’t accidents, how did the killer manage to force Riley Henderson to choke on a sandwich? He was a big, strong guy.”
“I’ve thought about that as well.” Matt had on a sailor hat Lauren bought him when she was ten that said ‘Skipper.’ His mirrored Top Gun sunglasses reflected the sun’s harsh rays and his short sleeved navy Polo shirt hugged his tight, toned torso. “My guess would be he had to be knocked out or drugged.”
“Wouldn’t that have shown up on the police report or autopsy?”
“It should have. I’ll give Luke a ring and have him check the file.” He raised a questioning eyebrow at her amused chuckle.
“You could just walk back and ask him.”
Matt shot her a faux contemptuous glare. “And get up? Ha. Not a chance.” He dialed Luke’s number. “He is forty feet away after all!” Luke picked up and Jac could hear his chuckle from the phone and the back of the boat.
“Lazy ass,” Luke yelled, his voice carrying.
Matt relayed their question about Riley’s autopsy and after he hung up, he refilled their drinks.
She grasped the straw and sipped, wishing for different circumstances. She couldn’t even imagine how she would feel if she and Matt could actually spend the unseasonably warm day floating on the lake without danger lurking on the horizon.
If she was here because he wanted her to be, not because looming evil threw them together.
As if reading her mind, Matt lifted the glass from her fingers and set it aside. Excitement sizzled through her veins at the look on his face. He grasped her face between his hands and lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her tenderly, starting out soft and gentle. But when his tongue licked against her bottom lip, she moaned and the kiss changed into hot and demanding.
A tinny ring shattered the sensual haze. She moaned as he ripped his mouth free. He cursed and hauled himself upright in one fluid movement.
A cool draft blew against her chest and she discovered her shirt was unbuttoned. She looked up at Matt. She hadn’t even realized his magic fingers had been hard at work. One corner of his mouth tipped up in a wicked grin and she forgot to breathe. Pulling her clothes together with unsteady hands, she stood and slipped her feet in her sandals. A light breeze drifted across the lake, ruffling nearby trees. Colorful foliage rained down, shimmering in the sun’s golden rays.
Matt blew out a breath and hung up. “There goes our theory. No blunt trauma on the body and no way to know if Riley was drugged.”
“Why?”
“Because the coroner ruled it inadvertent asphyxiation and no autopsy was ordered. His wife had him cremated.”
Jac sighed. “It was worth a shot.”
Twenty-seven
October 26
Darlene yawned and stretched her neck from side to side. She was tired after spending the weekend in the hospital with Marc. She wasn’
t brave enough to tell him, but she was growing tired of his constant demands and incessant questions about Jac.
The door to Jac’s office opened and hunky Logan emerged. Darlene straightened and finger-combed her hair. She might be tired, but she wasn’t dead.
“Hello, Logan,” she purred.
He offered a half-hearted smile, nodded and walked on by. Darlene frowned.
“Darlene, could you come in here?”
Darlene pulled a face. Just what she needed. Jac nagging her—again. She could feel Jac’s stare as she crossed the room and dropped into a chair.
“What have I done now?”
“Are you okay, Darlene?”
She shrugged and shifted in her seat.
“How are things with your boyfriend? Marc, isn’t it?
“Fine.” She didn’t offer details and Jac didn’t pry.
“The reason I wanted to talk to you is because I spoke with Harvey Block.”
Darlene laughed. “Harvey? What’s up with that loser?”
“He’s in Bloomington. He said you told him about my crush on Matt and the lists that my high school friends and I made years ago. Why would you do that?”
She didn’t even pretend to not know what Jac was talking about. “Because the guy was a sniveling, depressed mess. I thought if he knew he had to compete for your affections against the likes of Matt Dianetti, he’d realize he didn’t have a chance and leave you alone.” She rocketed to her feet. “If you’re done with the third degree, I’m splitting. I’m working on about four hours sleep and I’m beat.”
Without waiting for a reply, she grabbed her purse and pushed out the door.
* * * *
“What do you know about the fire that killed Nicole’s parents?” Logan hit a button on his laptop and swiveled to face Jac.
“Not much. I didn’t hear about it at the time.” She paused. “I feel horrible saying this, but Nicole’s parents didn’t merit mourning. Her mother was a horrible person. Her stepfather was even worse.”
Logan regarded her circumspectly and rubbed his chin. “Did whoever told you about the fire happen to mention the date?”
Jac searched her memory but came up blank. “Not that I recall.”
“Want to guess on what day it happened?”
“I have no…oh, no.” The shock of discovery hit her full force and she inhaled a quick sharp breath. “October twenty-ninth?”
“Right in one.”
Twenty-eight
“Are you okay, Jac?”
She swallowed with difficulty and found her voice. “I’m not sure I ever will be.” After a few calming breaths, she regained her strength. “Why? Why is someone doing this?”
Logan puffed with frustration. “I wish we knew. I’ve been researching the case, reading through the police reports. Did you know a third person died in the blaze?”
“No! Who?”
He spread his hands regretfully and shrugged. “The body was burned beyond recognition.”
She froze and slowly turned to face Logan, her eyes wide with concern. “It could have been Nicole’s stepsister, Nellie.”
Logan nodded. “I did some digging on her. Did you know she had mental problems?”
“Mental problems? Nellie? Not that I knew about, but I wouldn’t be surprised. She was shy and insecure. I think all she wanted was love and approval. Nicole’s biological father abandoned her and her mom Glenda when she was a baby. A few years later, Glenda married Nellie’s dad but he died soon after in a drug deal gone bad. Glenda wanted to ditch Nellie but her father had amassed quite a fortune from his nefarious activities and didn’t change his will to include Glenda. She reluctantly allowed Nellie to stay but ignored the girl to the point of abuse and spent all her inheritance. When the money ran out, she remarried and husband number three doted on Nellie, much to Nicole’s chagrin. Seems it intensified Nicole’s hatred.”
“Evidently she was institutionalized at McLean Hospital, a psychiatric facility in Belmont, Massachusetts.”
“McLean? I think I’ve heard of the place.”
“Probably,” Logan agreed. “They claim some famous patients, including Sylvia Plath, James Taylor, mathematician John Nash and the woman who wrote, Girl Interrupted. The stepfather had a relative who was a doctor and they must have pulled strings to get her admitted.”
Jac shook her head in sorrow. “How long was she institutionalized?”
“Three years. She was released a day before the fire,” Logan told her. “The nurse I spoke with said the doctors didn’t want to discharge her, but they had a signed release form from a family member assuming responsibility.”
Jac dropped back in her chair. “Do I even have to ask who signed the form?”
“You don’t, but just to avoid confusion, I’ll tell you. Nicole Southern.”
“Nicole hated her. She could have lured her out to kill her.”
“A good possibility. I had a contact in the FBI run Nellie’s social security number through the computers and he found no records after the night of the fire.”
“I can’t believe Nicole could be the killer.” But she was increasingly convinced she was.
Twenty-nine
October 28
Jumping Jacks was scheduled to open in only a few weeks, but Jac’s nervous stomach made it impossible to concentrate. Tomorrow marked the anniversary of the night she and her two friends had created the now infamous lists.
She decided to take today and tomorrow off. Her upset stomach didn’t need Darlene adding to the misery. She needed a confidante right now, not thinly veiled hostility. What had happened to what she’d thought was their friendship? And it seemed the animosity was mutual. Darlene had barely spoken two words to her yesterday.
Calling to Murphy, she laughed when he bounded down the driveway beside her as she strolled to the mailbox. Dan was attending school with Lauren, Luke with Matt at work, and Logan was inside the house, still trying to figure out the puzzle that was her life. She snuck out for some fresh air while he was on the phone.
It was so beautiful outside. Birds high in the nearby trees chirped their happy sounds. Nothing had happened all week and she was dismayed to realize Harvey could very well have been behind the harassment, since it stopped once he was jailed.
She pushed Harvey’s sobbing image from her mind. If guilty, he deserved to be punished for all the pain and anguish he’d inflicted.
She threw out her arms and spun around. Again and again and again. It was an Indian summer day, with the sun shining and birds welcoming the warm weather. Despite her constant nerves, she couldn’t remember ever being this happy.
She couldn’t deny the reason anymore.
She was in love with Matt Dianetti.
Sure, she’d thought herself in love the past twenty years. But she’d merely been in love with Matt Dianetti—the boy, the football hero, the image. Now she was in love with Matt Dianetti the flesh and blood man. She loved everything about him, from his fierce protectiveness of his daughter to his gentle touch with her. Oh yes, she loved him with all her silly heart.
She let out a gleeful whoop and bounced down the driveway with her hands spread wide. In a perfect world, the killer would be caught and she could be this happy every day with Matt and Lauren and Murphy.
Remembering caution, she searched the road as she approached the mailbox. The coast was clear and she extracted the mail. Lauren received a catalogue from Pottery Barn and she pulled it out and flipped through the pages. A white envelope fluttered to the ground. She backed up and bent down to retrieve it. Her hand paused inches from the blacktop.
The letter was addressed to her.
Her eyes darted nervously around the area as she hoisted the card. Calling Murphy, she picked up her pace and jogged back, breaking into a run as she neared the house. Once inside, she dropped the mail on the hall table, staring at the small, square envelope. No return address. It had to be from Nicole. As she slid a finger beneath the flap, she paused and flipped the ca
rd over again. No postage, just her name and Matt’s address. Who besides Matt, Lauren, Luke and his crew knew she was staying here? She hadn’t even told Darlene. How did Nicole find out?
With shaking fingers she withdrew the card, recognizing it as the one Nicole always sent. The cover pictured three young girls with their arms around each other, one head tipped back in laughter. A bittersweet reminder of the friendship she once shared with Tasha and Nicole.
Pushing the nostalgic thoughts aside, she peeled open the card and sucked in a loud breath, dropping it like a hot potato. Logan and his apparently bionic ears instantly appeared.
“What is that?”
She gingerly lifted the card and peered inside again. The same typed note was pasted to the inside with the date October 29 followed by the three lists. What made this card different from all the others was the broad red slash through the fourteen dead men, the thick circle surrounding Matt and the addition of her name composed of letters cut from magazines, covered by a blood red X.
Her mind reeled back to Wednesday, standing with Darlene in the club and the large white bandage covering her hand. Darlene told her it was a vegetable-chopping accident. Could she have cut herself and used the blood on the note? What about Harvey? He had a nasty cut as well.
She emitted a shaky laugh. The whole mess had her freaked, and now she was accusing her friends.
Obviously fed up with her silence, Logan ripped the card from her hand. He scanned the note while simultaneously dialing the police on his cell. He spoke in clipped tones and snapped the phone shut. “They’re sending a car over now.” He studied the memo and then the envelope.
“Is the blood real?”
Logan scratched a nail through the red line and then sniffed, his mouth twisting into a disgusted frown.
“My guess is it’s real.”
When Jac dropped unsteadily to a chair, he hurriedly added, “But it could be from an animal. The only way to find out would be a lab analysis and that will take days.”
The List Page 17