Shifting to get a better view, something solid pressed into her hip and she remembered the cell phone. Trying inconspicuously to pull it from her pocket, she flipped it open and depressed the lock button, a comforting calm settling over her.
* * * *
Matt jumped out of the car and rushed to the crowd assembled by the curb. Cruisers parked at all angles blocked the pathway and he weaved his way through the maze. Billy’s grandparents stood as soon as they saw their grandson and rushed to his side. They hugged Billy and twittered at the thick blood-covered cloth pressed to his temple.
It was then Matt noticed Billy had been hurt. Blinding panic and worry had absorbed his thoughts and he hadn’t even noticed. He stopped one of the cops. “Why did you allow the injured boy to accompany you to my house?”
“He adamantly refused to go to the hospital to be treated until he talked with you in person and your daughter was found.”
Matt walked over to Billy and with Lauren’s purse dangling from his wrist, grasped his shoulders. “Billy, I want you to know you’re the bravest young man I’ve ever met.”
Billy’s grandmother choked on a sob and his grandfather tugged a white handkerchief from his back pocket and dabbed at his eyes. Billy solemnly met his gaze. “B-but Mr. Dianetti, I-I failed. I c-couldn’t save her.”
“No, listen to me, Billy. You did not fail,” he corrected. “You suffered an injury. It required courage and grit to get help and then come tell me about Lauren in person and I want to thank you. Now, can you do me a favor?”
“Cer-certainly,” he answered. Matt’s praise clearly straightened Billy’s spine, adding inches to his height.
“I want you to climb in that ambulance and get that wound checked out. Can you do that?”
His shoulders slumped again. “B-but…L-Lauren…”
“Billy, I know she’d want you to have that injury looked at right away. I promise I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from her.”
Billy nodded, shook Matt’s hand and allowed his grandparents to lead him to the waiting ambulance. Matt breathed deeply and searched the crowd. Logan was talking to a detective and he couldn’t locate Luke. He wobbled unsteadily to a stone planter and dropped, bartering his soul to the Lord in exchange for his daughter’s safe return.
* * * *
“I think they found him, Mr. Bradley.” A uniformed officer reported.
Logan’s throat closed. God, please let him be alive.
Cops parted the crowd, ordering the nervous teens and concerned parents to stand back as two paramedics wheeled a stretcher through the throng. Matt’s secretary and a young girl with long brown hair ran beside the medics.
“Dan.” Logan rushed to his brother’s side. Blood coated Dan’s head, his face pale as he lay motionless on the stretcher. Matt’s secretary blurted, “It’s my fault. I asked him to get something from the storage room and when it was locked, I went to find the janitor but he sent me to a different location, told me he’d let Dan know I found the paper in another closet. By the time I noticed Dan was missing, I found him unconscious and bleeding, rope binding his hands and feet and a rag stuffed in his mouth.”
The paramedic filled in the details. “His pulse is weak but steady and he has yet to regain consciousness.”
Logan ran a hand over his forehead as he watched the medics snap the stretcher closed and lift his baby brother into the ambulance. Luke clutched his shoulder in support.
“If you need to be with him, we’ve got cops on the case now.”
Logan kept his eyes glued to the emergency vehicle as the doors closed and it sped away. His gaze lifted to where mist drifted past the streetlights like ghostly white fingers. He shook his head and willed air into his lungs. “He’s in good hands.” His voice was roughened with emotion. He cleared his throat. “An innocent young woman is in the clutches of a killer. We have to find her before it’s too late.”
Luke guided him over to where Matt sat staring at the purse that belonged to his daughter. He lifted his head and looked at the two men in despair.
“She’s gone. My baby’s gone.”
“Don’t give up,” Logan ordered gruffly. “We’ll find her. We need to—”
A feminine voice interrupted his sentence. All eyes glued to Logan as he lifted his cell from his pocket.
He looked from Matt to Luke. “It’s Jac. She said something about Ms. Timms.”
Thirty-seven
“What the heck is she doing with my receptionist?” Matt asked.
“Shh.” Luke turned the volume to max.
“Where are you taking me, Ms. Timms…or should I say Tasha?”
A sharp cackle crossed the airwaves. “Well, well, well, bravo, Jackie. You finally figured it out.” She clicked her tongue. “It took you long enough. I mean, Jeez Jackie, we were best friends after all. I thought you were smarter than that.”
Jac didn’t respond to Tasha’s taunt. Instead she said, “Why are you driving east on Tenth Street? Are you heading to Pigeon Hill?”
“Brilliant,” Luke praised. “Let’s go.” The three men skirted the crowd and dashed to the SUV while Logan swiftly explained what was happening to the sergeant in charge. He handed over his cell to the cop, allowing them to monitor Jac’s conversation. He grabbed the phone from Luke and held it out for them all to hear as Luke peeled out, three marked cars trailing in their wake.
“Why, Tash? Why are you doing this? I thought you died. I mourned your death.”
“Save the phony platitudes, Jackie. I’m not in the mood. Besides, I don’t know why you thought I croaked. I sent you a card each year on the anniversary of our last night together.”
“I thought Nicole sent the notes. They were signed N.S., and she always signed everything with her initials.”
“Honestly, Jackie.” Tasha sighed dramatically. “You disappoint me. Those are my initials too.”
Luke smacked the steering wheel. “I should have thought of that. Tash’s real name is Natasha. Natasha Sparks. N.S.”
The other men didn’t have time to respond. Jac’s sad voice cracked across the airwaves. “I truly did mourn you, Tasha.”
“Yeah? Funny, I don’t remember seeing you at the funeral.”
“I couldn’t—”
“Shut up! I’ve had enough of you. You want to know why I’m doing this? Fine, I’ll tell you if that will shut you up.” Tasha sighed dramatically. “The night we buried the lists, you and Nicole got into it and you split and left me. Remember? I rode with you. Well, I went back to Nicole’s house but she wasn’t there.” Pause. “Her stepfather drove me home, only he didn’t.” Another pause. “He raped me, beat me and left me to die. I wasn’t found for two days, or so they tell me. I don’t remember a whole lot.”
Jack’s gasp was loud, heartfelt and pained.
“He fractured my skull and bones in my face. I spent months in the hospital and had to have reconstructive surgery. Guess it worked. You didn’t recognize me.” She fingered the long scar running down her cheek. “The stress of the ordeal caused my grandmother to have a heart attack. She died.”
“Oh Tasha, I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
“Save it bitch.” Her voice was distant, dispassionate. “A real friend would have known.” Tasha sniffed. “Besides, I got over it a long time ago.”
“If it wasn’t you that died in that car, who was it?”
“Why Nicole, of course. It was my car, and my purse was found at the scene so when everyone assumed it was me, I went along with it. I stole her identity.”
A long, weighted pause. “Why did you kill Nicole?”
“Why?” Tasha said the word as if she were honestly trying to figure out the answer. “You want a reason? Honey, I’ve got a boatload of them. Remember Danny Martin, the last guy I put on my list?” She didn’t expect or wait for a response from Jac. “I loved him. After the accident and the reconstructive surgery, I enlisted Nicole’s help to attract him.” There was a hint of vulnerability in Tasha’s voice. “
She made fun of me, called him a major geek. Do you know what happened?” Again, she didn’t wait for Jac’s reply. “I found them in bed together.”
When she spoke again, that small spark of vulnerability was gone, replaced by something infinitely more evil. “I waited until Nicole left and snuck into his apartment. He was sound asleep. I blindfolded him and tied his hands. He woke up and started to struggle but I told him I was Nicole, back for round two and I wanted kinky this time. His dick stiffened like a poker. I climbed on board.” Her voice caught. “Men can be raped, too you know.
“As soon as he came, I ripped off the blindfold. He was horrified, said some really nasty things. It was more than I could take. No excuses mind you, but something inside me snapped. He had candles scattered all over from his tryst with Nicole. I lit one on the bedside table, tipped it over on some papers and watched it engulf his bed.
“It was all easy, child’s play. And what a rush. His death was ruled an accident. The authorities didn’t suspect a thing. I got the killing fever. What can I say? It must be hereditary. Did you know my mother killed my father, his lover and a cop? No, you probably didn’t, did you? You never asked why I lived with my grandmother.”
Tasha forged on. “After Danny I did some checking. You know what I found out? Nicole slept with Keith Mosey and Heath Williams, both on my list. Then it struck me. Why not kill all the men on the lists? They betrayed me just like you and Nicole did.
“How did I betray you, Tasha?”
“I was always the outsider, the one that didn’t fit in. I wasn’t the popular, athletic, homecoming queen like you or the bubbly cheerleader like Nicole. I was just your fat tag-along third-wheel friend.”
“What are you talking about Tasha? We never treated you that way.”
“Liar,” Tasha roared, and then her voice was frighteningly back to normal. “It was always you and Nicole double dating, doing stuff together. Chubby Tasha was stuck sitting home, all by herself on Saturday nights. Boys never asked me out because they never got past you or Nicole.”
“Tasha, I never intentionally did that to you. Nicole and I had been friends since fifth grade. We didn’t even know you until freshman year. Why didn’t you ever tell me, talk to me?”
“A real friend would have realized.”
Silence filled the cab and Matt pounded on the dashboard. “Dammit Jac, say something.” As if on cue, she spoke.
“Tasha, isn’t that Ninth Street Park, where we buried the box?”
“That’s my girl,” Matt praised.
Tasha failed to respond so Jac continued, “Where are we going? Are you taking me to Nicole’s old house on North Monroe Street, the one that burned?” Still no answer and Jac’s voice remained calm. “Did you set the fire, Tasha? Did you kill Nicole’s parents?”
“Jac...” Tasha tsked. “Of course not. How little you must think of me.” She paused. “Nellie did.”
“Nellie?”
Tasha spoke as if Jac were dimwitted. “Nicole’s dorky stepsister, the girl you shunned, treated like a fat wad of gum on the bottom of your shoe.” Tasha sniffed. “That monster raped her, too. He bragged about it to me that night. Unlike me, she went loony toons. I tracked her down at an institution, told her I was Nicole—hell, she was friggin’ loopy, didn’t know the difference. I signed her out and told her what to do. She followed instructions flawlessly, even toasted herself in the process.”
The car screeched to a halt. A door slammed and then another one creaked open.
“Why did you kill fourteen innocent men, Tasha?”
“Because that list ruined my life! I can’t see or hear from the left side of my face. I suffer excruciating headaches constantly and I can’t ever have kids. I had to destroy everything associated with it, including you. Now get out and hurry it up. Nicole is waiting for us.”
“I thought you said she died in the car accident.”
“She’s waiting inside for you to join us.”
Jac sucked in an audible breath.
“I said get out,” Tasha demanded.
Jac’s voice cracked with emotion, “What did you do with Lauren?”
“Enough!” Tasha roared.
“You don’t have to point that gun, Tasha. I’ll come along.
Rough sounds came across the line, including a harsh grunt. “Jac,” Matt moaned.
“Hang on, we’re getting close,” Logan soothed. “That remarkable lady is giving us their location without alerting suspicion.”
“And letting us know that Tasha is armed,” Luke added.
More static and then, “Ow,” Jac called out.
“Get up, you clumsy bitch.”
“I’m trying but I think I twisted my ankle.”
“She’s stalling,” Matt announced proudly. “She’s giving us time to reach her. Floor it.”
“Get up.” Grunts and the sound of shoes crunching dead leaves. “Open that door.”
Metal reverberated against a solid surface. “I didn’t realize Nicole’s house had a cellar in the back facing the garage.”
“My little sanctuary.”
“How am I supposed to see?”
“Just move it.”
Matt, Logan and Luke listened to feet slapping against concrete that lasted an eternity.
“Lauren!”
“Jac!”
“Oh my God.” Matt breathed, suddenly lightheaded. “Lauren. She’s alive.”
“Honey are you okay?” Jac’s voice was barely audible. “Are you hurt?”
Lauren’s tone was equally muted. “No, I’m fine.”
“Thank you God. She’s okay.” Matt swabbed wetness from his eyes with the heels of his hands. He looked skyward and whispered again, “Thank you.”
“Jac, you’re bleeding.”
“Shut up. While I find this little reunion touching, I don’t want to hear another word. Do you Nicole?”
“Nicole?”
“Don’t you see her?” Tasha’s laugh sounded demented. “We go everywhere together, isn’t that right, Nic?”
“Tasha…where is she?”
“Right over there.”
Jac and Lauren gasped at the same time.
“Tasha, that’s a vase.”
“No, it’s not, silly. That’s Nicole. Only...I think the technical term would be urn.”
“You killed her,” Jac accused. “Just like you killed fourteen innocent men.”
A dismissive snort. “Yeah, so?”
“How did you do it? How did you kill that many people and make them all appear to be accidents?”
“It was easy. I just studied my victims, found their weakness.”
Low rustling and murmuring came over the line. “What? What did they say?” Matt cried frenetically, holding his phone against his ear. But it was Tash’s voice that overrode everything.
“Ty Baxter was easy,” she bragged. “Unfortunately, I had to sleep with him.” Her shudder crossed the distance. “But he trusted me and his overdose was child’s play. Now sleeping with Calib Flynn, that was no hardship. He loved to watch television in the hot tub. You should have seen the look on his face when he realized what I was going to do. Jere Lipton, he begged like the dog he was.”
“What’s that whispering?” Matt asked. “I can’t understand what Jac’s saying.”
“Danny—my first kill—was the easiest. I wanted to stay and watch him disintegrate but have you ever smelled burning flesh?” Tasha made an exaggerated shuddering sound. “Nasty. But, if you’re a nice girl, Jackie, maybe I’ll give you the opportunity to smell it before you die. Blondie looks like she would burn real good.”
* * * *
Jac couldn’t believe Tasha Sparks was the killer. She had regretted losing touch with her high school friend, especially after learning of her death. She let her eyes adjust to the musty cellar’s dim interior. Tears of relief at finding Lauren burned her eyes, but she needed to stay strong and figure out a way to let her escape so Tash couldn’t hurt her.
Tas
h ranted on about Nicole and pain lanced through Jac. How could she have been best friends with a lunatic? Her eyes landed on the cheap vase holding the remains of their third friend Nicole and realization broadsided her.
She needed to keep Tash talking. She almost had the knots loose. She recalled hitting something sharp when she faked a fall and now the blood was making her hands slippery. But if she could just get this last one to give, she could let Lauren escape.
She kept firing questions at Tash, asking how she managed to commit multiple murders. Tash dropped to the floor and crossed her legs Indian style. She placed the gun beside her, pulled out a long dagger and casually cleaned her fingernails while she rattled on about how easy it had been to assassinate in cold blood. Clearly she enjoyed bragging about her exploits.
The last knot slipped free and relief pumped through Jac’s veins. She whispered to Lauren, “When I tell you to, I want you to run away and get help. Okay?”
Lauren squeezed her hand in understanding.
She needed a diversion. Her eyes roamed the small room as Tash prattled on. She needed to get Tash away from the gun so she couldn’t pick it up and fire at Lauren. Maybe she could coax her closer to the vase against the far wall.
“I don’t believe Nicole could fit. Can I see inside?”
Tash’s brows pulled together in confusion. “Jeez, she’s just a scoop of ashes. Sure she fits.” She sprang to her feet and marched to the vase, pulling off the lid. She tilted it, giving Jac a better view. “See…hey!”
“Go Lauren, now.”
“I don’t want to leave you.”
“Go get help!” Jac charged Tash like a mama bear protecting her cub.
“Umph.”
Lauren screamed as Jac rammed her shoulder into Tash’s stomach and they crashed to the floor. As if in slow motion, the vase flew from Tash’s hands and somersaulted, white dust floating through the air like the luminescent ghost of the late Nicole Southern. It crashed into a million tiny pieces. Unfortunately, the hit also dislodged the cell phone from Jac’s pocket and it smashed against the hard floor into a million tiny pieces as well.
The List Page 21