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The List Page 20

by Velvet Vaughn


  Darlene looked vexed. “Look, I’m not proud of what I did but I’m apologizing, okay?”

  Jac slowly shook her head. “No. It’s not okay. In fact, I may never recover. It’s treachery, plain and simple. You tore a hole in our friendship that can never be repaired.”

  Darlene held up her hands and shifted her weight on her hip. “I said I’m sorry. What…you want my apology in blood? My first born? I don’t understand why you won’t forgive me. We’re friends.”

  “Were friends. You betrayed our friendship. Betrayed me.”

  Matt motioned for the cops standing with Logan to haul Darlene away.

  “No, no, you can’t let them take me, Jac. I’m innocent. I didn’t know he was going to burn the club. I swear.” She struggled as the cops slapped cuffs around her wrists. “It was all Marc. He did it, not me.”

  Jac impassively watched Darlene’s outburst. As Matt escorted Jac away, she looked up at him, her eyes filled with unshed tears. “Do you think he was responsible for all those murders?”

  “I don’t know, sweetheart.” He hugged her close and rested his cheek on her head. “I truly don’t know.”

  Firemen shouted in the background, their voices blending with the spraying water and keening sirens. Finally, Matt said, “You knew all along that we met years ago, didn’t you?”

  “How could I ever forget the man who saved my life?”

  He stopped and grasped her forearms. “Why didn’t you tell me? Over the years I’ve wondered what happened to that adorable little girl.”

  She shrugged sadly. “Here I am.”

  When he continued to stare, waiting for an answer, she sighed and her shoulders sagged. “I didn’t remind you because I made a colossal fool of my ten-year-old self that day.” At his bewildered look, she supplied the details. “In case you forgot, I threw my arms around you and begged you to stay.”

  A knowing grin split his lips. “Oh, I didn’t forget.”

  She slugged him in the arm and pushed past but stopped and spun around, her hands fisted on her hips.

  “I can’t believe I fell for it…again. You knew what I was talking about and made me say it the same way you made me say the list was about men I wanted to sleep with.”

  “Ah, ah, ah.” His finger ticked like a metronome as he slowly closed the gap. She cautiously stepped back and his smile widened. “That’s not an accurate statement, babe. You should amend it to say guys you are sleeping with. No—guy you are sleeping with.” He unresistingly pulled her against him and lowered his head. “Although we haven’t done much sleeping,” he murmured against her lips just before he kissed the breath from her lungs.

  “Uh hem.”

  Without breaking the kiss, Matt made a shooing motion with his arm.

  “Uh hem.”

  Reluctantly, he pulled back, running his thumb over Jac’s swollen bottom lip. “You can turn around now, Colton,” he said without looking at the intruder. While Jac gathered herself, Matt briefed Luke on Darlene’s confession.

  “Let’s hope that’s the end,” Luke said. Matt and Jac nodded in agreement.

  Their hope died a quick and painful death ten minutes later as they headed home. Logan flipped his phone closed and ran a hand over his closely cropped hair. “Marc Cardinal is missing.”

  “What?”

  “The cops went to the address Darlene provided but it was cleared out. He’s disappeared.”

  “Hell,” Luke muttered.

  “It gets better,” Logan announced. “He has a rock solid, airtight alibi for most of the murders.”

  Luke took his eyes off the road long enough to meet Logan’s gaze. “What is it?”

  “He was a guest of the Plainfield Correctional Facility outside of Indianapolis.”

  Luke swore as he angled the SUV through an intersection. “So we’ve caught the stalker.” A dramatic pause. “But we’ve still got a killer on the loose.”

  Thirty-four

  “Miss Dianetti, we need a picture of you holding the check in front of the high school sign.”

  “Excuse me?” Lauren craned her neck, trying to hear over the sad rendition of a Madonna tune that the motley group of Limp Bizkit wannabe’s was well and truly butchering. The man adjusted a bulky camera around his neck and repeated the statement. “Oh, sure.” Grabbing Billy’s hand, she followed the photographer as he skirted the packed floor of gyrating teenagers and marched through the exit.

  “Sir, can you hang on a second?”

  The man stopped, looking put out but Lauren didn’t give him time to protest. She ducked back in the gym to find Dan. Her brows creased. He wasn’t there. She turned to her date. “Billy, have you seen Mr. Bradley?”

  He shook his head. “Maybe he had t-to use the boy’s room.”

  Relief washed over Lauren. “That’s it. Well, we won’t be gone long. It should be okay.”

  She turned back to the cameraman. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “Fine,” he groused. He started down the hall but stopped and turned around. “Wait here,” the man ordered Billy. “We only need Miss Dianetti in the shot.”

  Lauren looked from the man to Billy. “I want him to be in the picture,” she argued. “He’s my date.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed but he inclined his head. “Of course.” His voice held a low and rusty sound. Spinning, he pushed through the exit and followed the sidewalk.

  “Isn’t that the sign?” Lauren pointed to the block with the high school name chiseled in stone, barely visible as a thick fog rolled in.

  “The lighting is better on the other side,” he answered. Lauren shrugged and followed, clutching Billy’s hand.

  “L-Lauren,” Billy whispered. “It’s d-dark back here. Where’s he t-taking us?”

  Lauren patted his shoulder. “I don’t know, but I don’t like it either. Excuse me, sir? Where are we going?”

  The man spun to face them. A shaft of moonlight poked through the vapor to reflect off a shiny black and deadly-looking gun. “To Heaven, if you’ve been a good girl.” He laughed menacingly and then stopped abruptly. “Get in.” He motioned with the barrel to a brown sedan parked at the curb. At her hesitation, he reiterated his demand. “Now,” he barked, scanning the deserted area.

  “Just do as he says,” Lauren whispered to Billy, who visibly trembled. He squeezed her hand.

  “Ah, ah,” the man said. “Only the girl.” He smashed the butt of the gun against Billy’s head and he crumpled unconscious to the pavement.

  “Billy!” Lauren reached out to him but the man shoved her in the car and slammed the door. Lauren fumbled for a handle and when she couldn’t find one, she pounded the window, desperate to escape. The man jumped into the driver’s seat, jammed the accelerator to the floor and sped away.

  “You might as well sit back and relax.” His voice carried through small holes drilled in the Plexiglas separating the front seat from the back. “The doors only open from the outside.” The man laughed portentously.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “You appear to be your father’s weakness,” was all he said. When Lauren tried to ask questions, the man ignored her. She stared out the window unable to tell their location with the thick fog, praying her father would find her. Somehow, she had to stay strong, figure out a way to escape. It seemed as if they drove forever but in reality was probably no more than ten minutes. Her pulse spiked when they pulled into a darkened driveway and he killed the engine.

  The man stepped out and strolled to an area overgrown with brush. Lauren spun around to watch, barely making out his form through the gray haze. Reaching down, he lifted the handle on an aluminum flap and propped it open. Walking back to the car, he opened the back door and trained the gun on her head.

  “Don’t try anything stupid. See this?” He pointed to a long, thin device screwed on the end of the weapon. When Lauren failed to respond, he kicked her. “Answer me.”

  “Ow. Yes I see it.”

  “It’s called a silencer.
That means that I can put a slug in your ear and no one but you would even hear. Believe me, I won’t hesitate to blow your pretty little brains out.” He reached in and yanked Lauren out by the arm, forcing her to the opening in the ground. Lauren realized the door led to a basement. Lifting her dress, she stepped over the top edge and descended the concrete steps. She followed the dim yellow glow from the low wattage bulb dangling uncovered from the ceiling.

  The room was cold and cavernous, odds and ends scattered haphazardly across the yawning space. The man prodded her forward with the barrel of the gun in her back. A door led to a windowless room and the man reached beside her and flipped a switch. Lauren’s eyes widened when she crossed the threshold and noticed several pictures, each marked with a blood red X, tacked on a wall. The photos had a date written in black above and a newspaper clipping below. As she stepped closer, she realized the clippings were obituaries. She gasped and stumbled when she noticed two photos without the telltale mark of death—Jac and her father.

  Thirty-five

  “Damn, the fog rolled in from nowhere and just keeps getting thicker.” Luke slowed the SUV to turn into Matt’s driveway. Color punched through the haze and streaked across the trees lining the drive. “What the…?”

  “Oh, God,” Matt breathed. “The police.”

  Luke sped to where the car sat with one cop inside, the other pounding on Matt’s door. Luke hadn’t fully depressed the brakes when Matt jumped out.

  “What is it? Why are you here?”

  The cop hurried down the sidewalk from the house. It was then they noticed the young man at his side.

  “M-mister D-Dianetti, s-something h-happened to L-Lauren.”

  Matt’s knees gave out and he collapsed to the step. Jac rushed to his side. “Matt?” He waved her question away.

  “What happened to Lauren, Billy?” He ignored Jac’s gasp and closed his eyes. Nausea rolled through his stomach as he listened to the boy tell about the photographer that hit him and forced Lauren in a car. He hadn’t been able to identify the make or model because of the dark mist.

  “H-he hit m-me.” Billy’s eyes glittered with wetness. “I-I couldn’t s-save her.” He clutched Lauren’s black beaded handbag like a lifeline. Matt swallowed a lump and blinked rapidly to curb his own threatening tears.

  “Where was Mr. Bradley when this happened?” Luke asked.

  “I-I h-haven’t s-seen him s-since Lauren’s c-call.”

  Matt barely managed to choke back a sob, remembering Lauren’s excited voice when she used Dan’s cell to call and tell him how much money had been raised, mostly due to her personal efforts.

  Please God, don’t let that be the last time I ever hear my baby’s voice.

  Logan tried to reach Dan as soon as they spotted the police. After hearing Matt’s question, he said, “He’s not answering his phone.”

  The cop stepped forward. “We’ve sealed off all the exits around the school and are searching the area. Do you want to ride with us to the scene?”

  “Yes.” Matt stood on wobbly legs.

  “You ride with the police and we’ll follow,” Luke said. “Let’s go.”

  Jac scrambled behind the men but stumbled when Matt whirled to face her, rage darkening his features. He pointed an accusing finger. “This is your fault! I wanted to send her away. If you hadn’t meddled, she’d be safe now.” Fury blazed from his eyes. “I can’t believe I listened to you. Because of you, my baby is gone. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

  * * * *

  Jac felt as if a baseball bat had slammed into her stomach at the hatred on Matt’s face. “Please—” she grabbed his arm—“I need to go. Lauren’s important to me.”

  “You’ve done enough. Don’t you see—my daughter is gone. Gone! I don’t want you near us.” He shook his head with disgust. “Just go away.”

  Tears flooded Jac’s eyes, blurring the image of Matt as he raced to the waiting police car. Her legs were immobilized, barely able to support her weight. She rubbed her chest, aching as if her heart had been ripped out. Strong fingers gripped her shoulder and she blinked at Luke, his brows creased with concern.

  “He’s just upset,” he apologized for his friend. “I know he didn’t mean what he said and will hate himself later. Please don’t let it destroy you.” She tipped her head in a tiny nod. “Set the alarm as soon as we leave and don’t open the door. I don’t care if it’s an eight-year-old girl scout in pigtails holding a fluffy kitty—open for no one. Do you hear me?”

  She stared in the distance. “Matt…wants me gone. I-I need to leave.”

  “Listen to me Jac.” Luke waited for her vacant eyes to focus on him. “I need you to stay here and answer the phone in case Lauren—or someone else—calls. Can you do that for me?” Her nod was stronger this time and he added, “If you need us, use the walkie-talkie and we’ll all get the message.”

  “Please do the same and let me know as soon as you hear about Lauren. And Dan.”

  He gave her a reassuring smile, yelled “Set the alarm” over his shoulder and dove into the open door, barely managing to close it as Logan sped away.

  Jac watched the lights bounce off the gray mist and disappear down the driveway feeling completely hollow. She stumbled up the walkway and somehow managed to finagle the key in and punch in the security code despite severely trembling hands.

  She staggered around the house in shock, reverently touching a photo on the mantle of Matt and Lauren on their boat. Tears rained down her face as she collected her belongings. Matt would want her out as soon as he came back with Lauren or…

  She collapsed to the sofa, her arms clutching her cramping stomach as a strangled sob escaped her throat. Lauren had to be okay. They’d bonded over the past few weeks. Matt had no idea the things Lauren had confided, asked her advice about. If Lauren were harmed, Jac would feel as if her own daughter had suffered.

  That’s probably what got us into this mess in the first place. She started to feel part of their family, played the mom roll convincingly, persuading the dad to let their daughter do something she wanted to do. It felt right, talking over the situation with Matt. But what did she know about being a parent? He’d been one almost sixteen years, and a darn good one. Who was she to weasel her way in and try to insist she knew best? Matt wasn’t the only one that wouldn’t forgive her. She would never forgive herself.

  She didn’t know how long she sat in the dark, tears streaming down her face and a deep pain in her chest she knew she deserved.

  The doorbell jangled loudly. Murphy scrambled to the entry, his nails clicking over the terra-cotta tiles. The bell was promptly followed by pounding. Jac wiped her hands across her cheeks to brush away the wetness and hurried to answer. Maybe Luke or Logan, or the police… Panic weakened her muscles but she lunged for the door and deactivated the alarm, not pausing to check the peephole. Holding Murphy back with her foot, she flung the door open. Her head tipped in confusion.

  “Ms. Timms?”

  Murphy bared his fangs and growled menacingly. He started barking like a junk yard dog, snarling and lunging at the visitor. Jac had never seen him act like this. He was always friendly, mild mannered. She held him back with her leg and closed the gap in the door so he couldn’t escape.

  “You have to come with me,” Ms. Timms stammered, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Mr. Dianetti has been in an accident.”

  Jac’s vision blurred, darkened. Panic slammed into her and she almost passed out. “Matt was in an accident?”

  Ms. Timms nodded frantically, her hands twisting together. “Yes, and he’s…you must come with me right away.” Jac ignored Murphy’s furious protests as she grabbed her coat from a hook by the door and raced after Matt’s receptionist, adrenalin strengthening her legs.

  “You’ll have to ride in the back,” the woman said. “My front seat is full.”

  “Okay.” She grasped the back handle and launched herself inside. Ms. Timms jumped in the front and pressed the accelerat
or. Once she turned onto the highway, her demeanor calmed. Jac watched as the needle on the speedometer slowed to a respectable forty-five miles an hour.

  Her eyes narrowed at the Plexiglas separating the seats but passed it off as a former taxi and scooted forward. Rapping lightly, she positioned her mouth close to the holes. “Ms. Timms? Could you go faster?”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, it’s quite foggy.”

  “But if Matt’s hurt, we need to hurry.”

  The only acknowledgement the woman made was to check the rear view mirror. Jac recoiled from the malevolent gleam. Averting her eyes from the troubling sight, she skimmed the passenger seat—the nearly empty passenger seat. Only a short black wig and a hat occupied space.

  “I thought you said the seat was full.”

  The woman shrugged. “I lied.”

  “Why would you lie?” Something on the dash glittered as they passed under a street light. Jac gasped at the shiny pistol resting within reach of the woman behind the wheel. Unprecedented terror welled in her throat and cut off her breath.

  Ellen Timms wasn’t just Matt Dianetti’s receptionist.

  She was the killer.

  Thirty-six

  Jac’s heart thumped madly as she swallowed the bowling ball in her throat. “Where are you taking me?”

  The woman slammed her elbow against the partition, causing Jac to flinch backwards. “Sit back and shut up.”

  She concentrated on studying the woman’s profile as she drove with one hand, the other reaching up to twist a strand of brown hair around her finger. Could it be Nicole? She shook her head. She wanted to believe she would recognize the woman who had been her childhood friend. Still, something about this woman…

  She stilled as realization slammed through her. Her gaze zeroed in on the woman’s finger, relentlessly twirling a strand of hair. The only person she knew with that same habit was… no. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t.

 

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