Deadly Competition (Without a Trace)

by Roxanne Rustand

  Each piece had been slashed to vertical ribbons and splashed with what appeared to be red paint, though it took little imagination to guess it was meant to represent blood. The level of anger unleashed in this act of vandalism sent Mandy’s heart pounding against her ribs.

  Did this have something to do with the pageant? Earlier in the spring, there’d been several acts of violence against some of the participants, including that poor woman who had bleach thrown on her face, but surely no one could think that Mandy was any sort of contender to be reckoned with.

  Which left the possibility of random vandalism…or Dean. And leaving a chilling message behind was just his style.

  She only had to remember the deaths of her cat, and her sweet old dog Babe, whom she’d found in front of her house with a single gunshot wound to the head, to remember how much he liked to make a statement through violence.

  It had been a single, perfect shot.

  Executed by someone with perfect aim.

  Someone like a police officer—a jealous, angry officer with an unexpected capacity for rage that had taken her by surprise.

  She turned and ran for the house, grabbing Molly and Sarah on the way, stopping to dial both 911 and Clint’s number with shaking fingers as soon as they were inside.

  Then she raced to the doors and windows and locked each one, praying that an intruder wasn’t already inside…

  Praying that her past wouldn’t show up before help arrived.

  SEVENTEEN

  Clint returned her call while he was on his way home, and made it back in twenty minutes. He immediately went to Sarah and gave her a long hug before releasing her.

  Then he drew Mandy out onto the porch and lowered his voice. “Tell me again about what happened.”

  “I did some laundry and hung it all out to dry this afternoon. There were other clothes on the line, but only mine were vandalized. Every last piece I put out there was ruined.” She swallowed hard and stepped away from him, rubbing her upper arms as if trying to get warm despite the hot, humid day.

  “I—I didn’t want to say anything. I figured it made me look really bad just by association, and I really, really needed this job.”

  “Say what?” Clint wasn’t sure whether he wanted to shake her or to take her in his arms and reassure her. To tell her that he believed in her, and that everything would be all right. But when he took a step forward, she turned away.

  “I told you about a former boyfriend. He started out to be a nice guy, and then he changed…or maybe I just didn’t want to see that side of him at first. He became controlling and demanding, and he’d fly into a rage at the blink of an eye. When I tried to break off the relationship, he got possessive and said no one walked out on him, ever.”

  “So you ran.”

  “I know what can happen to women who don’t escape abusive relationships. You hear it on the news all the time, and I didn’t want to take a chance.” She bowed her head. “I just wish I’d wised up a lot faster. Believe me, I’d give anything to turn back the clock. I was such a fool.”

  From her stricken expression, he knew she’d struggled over keeping her secrets. “You just expected him to be one of the good guys,” Clint said gently. “He used your trust against you.”

  “My dad wasn’t a very warm and friendly man, and it seemed like a miracle to find someone like Dean. He was so warm and attentive. So supportive, after Dad died. Then I discovered just how messed up the estate was, and when Dean learned there was no cushy inheritance coming my way, he claimed I’d set out to ‘trap’ him with lies, though nothing could be further from the truth. He spiraled out of control after that, yet he was still too possessive for me to be able to walk away. I finally ran.”

  “You didn’t have any place else you could go? Someone who could help? What about the police?

  She gave him a sad smile. “Dean is the police. He was related to or grew up with almost everyone on the police force in that small town. Who would believe me over him? No one, as I found out.”

  “Do you have any relatives?”

  “All on the East Coast, all elderly. And I’d long since distanced myself from friends—which I now realize Dean engineered, one subtle step at a time. Way before then, I’d already learned God wasn’t going to answer any prayers of mine. So,” she said on a long sigh, “I decided I needed to leave town.”

  “Have you seen Dean here?”

  “No.”

  “Has he contacted you?”

  “No. But every time I turn around, I imagine him lurking in the shadows. I think it’s time for me to leave.”

  “And always be looking over your shoulder?” Clint took her hands in both of his. “Stay here. Let me help you.”

  “And continue to put you and Sarah in danger? I can’t do that. I never should have stayed here in the first place.”

  “I can handle it. We can talk to the authorities.”

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if Dean managed to file some sort of trumped-up report or charges so the authorities are looking for me.” She swallowed hard. “I don’t think you understand the kind of connections he has. People owe him favors. They might gladly give false testimony, or provide evidence.”

  “Please—at least stay through the weekend. If this guy turns up, I’ll help you deal with him. If this guy is a cop and as bad as you say, Sam Pierce might be interested in hearing about it. I’m not even in law enforcement, but I can come up with a pretty long list of possible charges against Dean already. Give me a chance to help you, Mandy.”

  She paced the length of the porch, her movements rapid and jerky. “I’ll stay…at least tonight. After that, there are no guarantees.”

  “Maybe you should move into the main house. You could have one of the spare bedrooms upstairs.”

  She gave him a bleak smile. “I’ll be fine. The door to the apartment is solid oak and has a good dead bolt. I don’t want to move into the main house and have anyone questioning your integrity—especially for Sarah’s sake.”

  “But—”

  “Until I leave town, I’ll still have the cell phone you loaned me. If I hear the slightest noise, I’ll call 911 and then I’ll call you.”

  Worry lanced through him. “Until we get this taken care of, I don’t want you to leave that apartment without me, understand? I promise you, we’ll get you through this. I’m calling Sheriff Reed right now to ask that he assign a patrol car to this area, just in case.”

  A feeling of protectiveness threatened to swamp all reason, and there was nothing Clint wanted more right at this moment than to keep her by his side and keep her safe. But he had no choice but to respect Mandy’s wishes.

  It was going to be the longest night of his life.

  When Mandy went to the apartment over the garage, Clint and Sarah came along and stayed until Sarah was sleepy and Clint finally had to leave. An empty feeling bloomed in her chest as she glanced around the charming little place that had been her haven.

  It was ironic, she thought with a sad smile, that she’d first thought Loomis was a nondescript, backwater town. Who could’ve guessed that in the weeks she’d been here, she would change so much?

  Dean had robbed her of her independence, her spirit, her self-worth. But here, she’d begun to heal. Here, she’d been with strong and loving and honorable people. She’d found a man and a special little girl who would always own a big piece of her heart.

  “I shouldn’t have to leave,” she said bitterly into the emptiness of the apartment. She lifted her eyes heavenward. “Why give me something so special, so beautiful, then take it away?”

  Being forced to leave gave Dean continued power over her life, whether he knew it or not. But somewhere out on the West Coast she would change her name again and disappear into some vast, anonymous city for a while, then maybe strike out for a small, cozy town up in the hills.

  One like Loomis, where everyone knew everyone else. There was safety in that—in small communities, with a collective awareness of disrupte
d routines and dangerous strangers. Then maybe she would be completely free.

  Maybe Loomis had just been a lesson along the way.

  It took only minutes to pack, and then she started scrubbing, cleaning the windows, and mopping, anything to keep her busy and occupy her thoughts. But the question still remained—should she flee on that early bus tomorrow or stay until the final last step in the pageant, so she could be with Clint and Sarah awhile longer?

  Mandy roamed the apartment feeling edgy and disconcerted, her fingers itching to pick up her bags so she could head for the bus stop. Except the bus didn’t come through until early morning, and that was a long time off. You’re safer here, her inner voice whispered.

  But looking out the window into the inky darkness, she wasn’t sure of that at all.

  After a night without sleep, the next morning dragged on interminably. The afternoon went even slower. Yet Mandy hadn’t been able to make that final step of heading for the bus stop at dawn. Just one more day. I just want one more day.

  Not for the chance to attend the Saturday night banquet prior to the announcement of the winner on Mother’s Day.

  Tonight the other entrants would be anxiously checking each other out, still vying for the attention of the judges. In the face of everything else going on in Mandy’s life, that all seemed even more superficial than it had before.

  “Are you ready?” Clint asked when he walked in the kitchen during the late afternoon.

  “I really, truly have nothing to wear.” Mandy smiled at the irony of the cliché. In her case, it was totally true. “My best things were absolutely ruined.”

  “Hmm. That could be a problem, I guess.” His mouth quirked as he held out a garment bag. “I had no idea what size, so the clerk said I could take it to you and see if it fits.”

  Touched, she accepted the bag and peeked inside. Turquoise sequins and glass beads twinkled at her, enticing her to pull out a shimmering dress with a princess-cut neckline in front and crisscrossed straps across the back.

  “It’s stunning!” she breathed. “I’ve never had anything like it.”

  “The ladies at the dress shop thought you should finally have something that rivals what the other ladies wear in the evening. They said something about a sweet duckling among the peacocks, and that it was time to be a swan.”

  She laughed. “I think it’s cygnets that become swans, but I won’t argue.”

  “We’re dropping Sarah off at a friend’s house so we won’t have to get back too early.” He glanced at his watch. “Is there anything else you need?”

  Shoes, but she could make do with her white sandals that would be hidden beneath the hem. She needed lingerie that wouldn’t show beneath the open work of the dress…but with a few safety pins…

  “I’ll be absolutely fine,” she said firmly. “Already this loan is beyond belief.”

  “Oh, it’s not a loan. I hear the dress was custom-ordered, paid for in full, but didn’t fit. The woman gave it back and said just to find a good home for it.”

  Awed, Mandy stared at the dress. “This—this just takes my breath away!”

  “Mine, too.” Clint drew in a long, slow breath. “Definitely. But there’s something else out in the truck for you, come to think of it. Hold on.”

  “Something else? How can I possibly accept anything more?”

  “I guess it’s important stuff. Or at least, that’s what the clerk said. I don’t have a clue.”

  He headed out the door and returned in a few minutes with a trendy shopping bag dangling from his forefinger. A froth of glittery wrapping tissue peeked above the top of the bag. “If all of this works out okay, can you be ready in an hour?”

  An hour? Given her basic wardrobe and minimalist makeup, in her entire life she’d never taken more than twenty minutes getting ready to go anywhere. But even the name on that bag was daunting. Who knew what it might hold?

  She summoned a breezy smile, though she felt more like a little girl playing dress-up with every passing minute. “I’ll do my best—but if you’ve got a hotline phone number for that clerk, you might want to keep it handy.”

  EIGHTEEN

  Mandy stared at herself in the mirror by the front door, not quite believing her slender, glittering reflection.

  Sophisticated, understated evening wear—mostly classic little black cocktail dresses—had once been a part of her life, but she’d never imagined herself wearing a dress as magical as this one. It fit perfectly, skimming her body in a flattering way without being too revealing, eye-catching without appearing too brassy. The delicate lingerie and shoes were a perfect complement.

  She turned and saw sweet Sarah and Clint, as handsome as any movie star in his black tux, staring at her from across the room.

  “You’re like a princess!” Sarah exclaimed.

  “A very special princess,” Clint echoed.

  The intensity in his gaze made Mandy shiver. This was going to be a wonderful night. A magical, memorable night. And despite her earlier misgivings, she could hardly wait. Would there be music? Would she have her first—and last—chance to dance with Clint, and to be held in his arms?

  “How did that clerk know my size? The dress, the shoes. I could’ve shopped all day and never found everything as perfect.”

  “We borrowed your shoe, Miss Mandy,” Sarah said with a broad smile.

  “And the clerk had seen you around town. From that, she just sort of figured out the rest.”

  “Well, thank you both from the bottom of my heart.” Mandy floated over to Sarah and kissed her cheek, then stood on her tiptoes and brushed a quick kiss against Clint’s cheek as well, breathing in the familiar scent of his pine woods aftershave. “I think this is going to be the most glamorous evening of my life!”

  Clint’s cell phone rang. He listened for a minute, his smile fading. “Where? Have you called the fire department? Ambulance?” He shot a glance at his watch. “I’m on my way. Ten minutes, tops.”

  The excitement of the beautiful dress and a last evening with Clint dimmed. “Bad news?”

  He grabbed his truck keys and headed for the back door at a jog. “There was an explosion at one of my job sites. The fire is out of control.” He hesitated at the door. “I’m sorry, Mandy. I’ll join you when I can.”

  She waved a hand in dismissal, though she wanted to run and throw her arms around him to keep him from harm. “You’re doing what you should do. I’ll drop Sarah off and just go to the festivities for a little while. Be safe, Clint. I’ll be praying for you and your crew.

  The country club was a fairyland of ethereal blush gauze and silver sequins—the crystal, sterling and silver-edged china resplendent in the flickering light of hundreds of candles.

  Mandy quietly found her own place card and took a seat at a table. Shelby sat across from her. “Quite an affair, don’t you think?” she whispered. “And it looks like there’ll be some unexpected entertainment.”

  Mandy followed Shelby’s gaze to the front of the room, where Charla Renault and Lenore Pershing had taken position like warring queens at opposite sides of the room, their entourages of friends and relatives surrounding them.

  Lenore deigned to walk across the room to the enemy camp and speak to an older woman next to the spot saved for Charla’s wheelchair.

  Charla rolled up a few seconds later and imperiously nudged Lenore with a wheel. “Excuse me,” she snapped. “You belong on the other side of the room. Didn’t you read the place cards?”

  “I don’t think I need your silly card to speak with an old friend,” Lenore sniffed. “You may own Renault Hall, but you certainly don’t own this building. And you certainly have no right to tell me what to do.”

  “Someone ought to, before you bankrupt your family.” Charla gave a snort of derision. “Last month I made an offer on an empty building of yours in Wheaton. My offer was well above market. You were a fool to turn it down.”

  The mood in the room turned sour and a number of people edged away fro
m the two old women, clearly trying to ignore their rising voices.

  Lenore’s smile turned smug. “Ah, yes…the one sitting between the two that you own? I simply chose to keep it. I may build a car wash there. Or even a storage facility. I’m thinking about a turquoise and pink color scheme.”

  “What a surprise. As tasteless as your condominiums, to say the least.” Charla’s voice turned saccharine. “Actually, the county supervisors are condemning that property of yours as part of an urban renewal plan. You’ll be receiving notice this week, I believe. They’re quite excited about improving the tax base with a high-rise office building in that location.”

  Lenore’s face reddened in anger. “No one consulted me about it.”

  “Really? What a pity. Maybe they tried, but you were in jail at the time.”

  Lenore gripped the back of a chair, her hands trembling and her voice filled with rage. “Y-you railroaded that through? What did you do, pay every one of them off?”

  “Is that something you would do?” Charla countered with an expression of cool amusement. “I’d be careful, my dear. That could sound like slander to the wrong ears.”

  Lenore mumbled something unintelligible and stalked across the room to her own place.

  White-jacketed waitstaff dispersed to serve the salad course, and everyone drifted to their appointed seats.

  “It wasn’t quite an all-out war,” Mandy whispered to Shelby.

  “We can be thankful for that, at least. But—”

  Suddenly, a chair screeched, and the room was filled with the sound of harsh, gasping, guttural breaths.

  “Is she choking?” a guest cried.

  “I think she’s having a heart attack!” someone yelled.

  “Where’s her inhaler?” someone screamed. “Her EpiPen! Where is it?”

  A tumult of voices and movement shattered the split-second of silence as people ran and chairs scattered. Charla Renault was hidden behind a crowd, but her horrific struggle to breathe was audible to Mandy even from a distance.