Dangerous Betrayals

by Dover, L. P.

  “It’s the right thing to do. You can’t keep him here if he’s innocent. Yes, he broke into Kennedy’s house and stole some of her things, but he’s done the time for that. He just has to understand he can’t go anywhere near her for the rest of his life.”

  John nodded. “That’s for damn sure.” He sat down on the bench in the hallway and hung his head. “I don’t know how much longer we can keep these murders quiet from the news. The killer obviously wants it known he’s on the rampage.”

  There was only one thing we could do. “We have to go to Vermont and tell Kennedy the truth. If you want me to find the killer, I’m going to need all the information I can get. He targeted her and her mother for a reason.”

  John sighed and pulled out his phone. “I’ll call her now. We can leave this afternoon.”

  I was ready.

  *

  We got on the first flight we could get to Vermont and arrived mid-afternoon. Kennedy lived in a small town called Warren, population only a little over a thousand. Out of all the places in the United States, it made me wonder why she chose Vermont. The rental car, a silver Audi, was ready and waiting for us so we hopped in for the 70-mile drive.

  I wondered about Kennedy. Seeing those photos put a human connection in my mind and now to see her in person I knew I needed to be on my game. A beautiful woman like that could easily get under my skin. Though she could be a nag and that would distort whatever looks she has. But from what John’s told me she’s a real sweetheart. Yeah, note to self: I best be careful.

  After an hour and a half of some hilly roadways we pull up to her house which was right by the Mad River. What a great scene, I can see why she wanted to move to this picturesque location. There was not another home around for miles, she was isolated which based on the new circumstances was not a good thing. I parked our car beside the white Toyota 4Runner in her driveway.

  “She loves this place,” John said as he got out. He’d been quiet most of the trip. I could tell he was worried about Kennedy, but I could also see the guilt burdening him about Shawn. Later tonight, that poor kid would be on his way to freedom.

  “Do you keep in touch with Kennedy often?” I asked.

  John nodded and started for the door. “My wife loves her to death. She came with me to visit Kennedy in the hospital after her attack and they clicked instantly. Kennedy stayed with us for a few weeks until we found this place up here. We sold her house and helped her move.” We stopped at the door and he shrugged. “Guess you can say she’s like a daughter to us. Now I feel like I’ve let her down.”

  “Mistakes happen,” I said. “Nobody’s perfect. Everything pointed to Shawn. He just made some bad decisions and was in the wrong place at the wrong time.” I wanted John to know I thought he did the best he could, the best most law enforcement would’ve done in the same situation. I, on the other hand, would not have made the error — there were too many clues that would have made me investigate further.

  John huffed. “And now it’s all fucked. We’re back at square one.” He knocked on the door, but there was no answer. He was about to knock again when a dog barked in the backyard. John smiled and nodded toward the yard. “I know where she’s at.”

  I followed him around the side of the house to the fence that protected us from falling over the rocky ledge. Down below was Kennedy, hopping from rock to rock in the river, wearing a pair of denim shorts and pink tank top while her dog splashed and played around beside her.

  “I’ve never seen her so happy,” John murmured, gazing at her sadly. “She’s safe here, right?”

  If he knew the things I did, he’d realize that no one was ever safe. “Depends on if the killer wants to finish what he started,” I stated matter-of-factly. As of right now, there were no suspects or leads on anything. And if this bastard was as tenacious as I suspected he was going to finish the job, no matter what.

  John whistled down at Kennedy and she jerked around. When she saw it was him, she had the biggest smile on her face. “Yay, you’re here!” She hopped back over to the riverbank, and her dog followed her up the side of the hill that was less rocky. Once through the fence, she raced over and flung her arms around John’s neck. “Oh my God, it’s so good to see you. Why didn’t Robyn come along?”

  She let him go and he coughed nervously. “This was kind of a spur of the moment trip.”

  Brows furrowed, she looked curiously over at me. “Is something going on I should know about?”

  John’s demeanor completely changed with her around. I could tell he cared about her by the way his expression softened. He cleared his throat and glanced back and forth at us both. “Kennedy, this is Reed Chandler. He works for the FBI.”

  Her smile faded, but she held out her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Reed. I’m Kennedy.”

  I shook her hand. “I know you weren’t expecting me, but I’m hoping it’s not too much trouble.”

  Her smile came back, and I could tell it was genuine, but a little guarded. “Not at all. I don’t have many visitors. Any chance I can see John I’ll take it.” Her dog came up to me and cocked its head to the side with its tongue hanging out. Kennedy giggled and shook her head. “Looks like Buttercup’s curious about you. I think she likes you.”

  I bent down and scratched behind the dog’s ears. She licked my hand and sat down by my feet. Not the composure of a watch dog, but she was cute enough anyway. “I like her too,” I said, laughing. “Is she a goldendoodle?”

  I looked up at Kennedy and she nodded. “Yep. Her real name is Princess Buttercup, but I just call her Buttercup.”

  John chuckled. “Kennedy’s a huge fan of The Princess Bride.”

  “Nice,” I quipped. “So am I.” My mother used to watch it all the time. It grew to be one of my favorites as well.

  Kennedy shrugged. “Can’t help it. I love me some Westley.”

  Standing back up, I focused on John. He knew by the look on my face that it was time to tell Kennedy what was going on. John sighed and squeezed Kennedy’s shoulder. “As much as I wish this was a social visit, there is something we need to talk to you about. I couldn’t do it over the phone.”

  Kennedy blew out a nervous breath. “This has to do with me and my mother, doesn’t it?” she asked, staring straight at John.

  John nodded toward the house. “Why don’t we go inside?”

  “No,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. I could see the nervousness on her face. “Spill it, John. I knew something had to be wrong when you called me. I could hear it in your voice. I was just was hoping it was my paranoia.”

  He shook his head. “No, it’s not. There’s something I have to tell you.”

  Kennedy took a deep breath and blew it out. “What is it?”

  John struggled to find the words and I could only imagine how hard it was for him. The man was eaten up with guilt over Shawn. Now he had to tell the girl he loved like a daughter that the killer was still out there. He walked up to Kennedy and hung his head. “Over the past couple of weeks, there’s been a couple of murders, all of them the same as your mother. Upon further investigation, interrogations, it looks like we made a mistake with Shawn.”

  Kennedy gasped and stumbled back, the blood rushing from her face. “Oh my God. I had a feeling it wasn’t over.” She turned on her heel and took a step, but her legs buckled beneath her. John tried to catch her, but I beat him to it. I lifted her limp body in my arms and carried her toward the house.

  “She’s going to hate me,” John murmured, opening the door. Buttercup quiet with worry for her mistress, pranced along John’s side.

  I took Kennedy inside and laid her on the couch. I stared down at her and I could see a small part of her scar on her chest where her tank top didn’t cover the wound. The dog jumped up cuddling Kennedy with her warmth obviously aware something was wrong. “She won’t hate you,” I said, sitting down in the chair across from her, “mistakes happen. All we need to do is make sure she’s safe.”

  John
huffed. “How the hell am I going to do that when I don’t know where to look?”

  With a heavy sigh I stared over at Kennedy, just beginning to stir after her blackout. “I do, but it’s going to be hell for her.”

  Chapter Six

  Kennedy

  I was back in my mother’s house, the one and only nightmare I couldn’t escape from. My feet moved of their own accord and I couldn’t stop myself. “Please,” I begged, trying to hold onto anything and everything I could get my hands on. I didn’t want to go into my mother’s bedroom. I knew what I’d see there.

  “Kennedy.”

  My name came out as a whisper, menacing and low. It wasn’t my mother calling my name; it was his. I hated him. Every time I had the nightmare it was always the same. My mother was already dead before I could even attempt to save her.

  “Come here, Kennedy,” he called out, this time laughing as if everything was a game.

  Tears burned their way down my cheeks and I tried to run the opposite way, but my body felt heavy. I couldn’t fight him, not when I could barely move. I could feel him closing in, suffocating me. My body moved of its own accord, but my mind screamed for me to fight, to rip him apart and watch him die like he deserved. I turned the corner to my mother’s bedroom and there she laid on the floor, just like I’d found her eight months ago. The killer stood above her with a bloody knife in his hands. He was in all black and I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear his voice.

  “It’s about time,” he said.

  “Time for what?” I growled, the rage burning every square inch of my body.

  The figure in black took a step toward me and held up the knife. “It’s time for you to die.”

  “NO!” I screamed, jerking myself awake. I sat up so fast I felt dizzy and nauseous.

  John rushed over and pulled me into his arms. “You’re okay. It was just a bad dream.”

  I held onto him and closed my eyes, wishing like hell I could forget everything that’d happened. Counseling had helped, but it could only do so much. My mother deserved justice and she got nothing. When I opened my eyes, I looked over at Reed who sat across from us, staring at me with those emerald eyes of his. He didn’t look much older than me, and he definitely didn’t remind me of an FBI agent wearing jeans, cowboy boots, and a T-shirt with dark brown hair that looked like he just ran his hands through.

  I let John go and wiped away my tears. “Over the last months…in my dreams, I never saw Shawn as the killer. Guess deep down I knew it wasn’t him. After all the evidence, I just let my mind believe it was him.” Maybe that’s what I wanted to believe, what I needed at the time.

  John’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “The voice,” I said. “My attacker spoke to me that night and it didn’t sound like Shawn. When he was arrested, I thought it must’ve been my mind playing tricks on me since all of the evidence led to Shawn. But I didn’t want to believe that he could’ve done that to me or my mother.” John handed me a bottle of water and I chugged it down. My mouth felt like sandpaper and my scar ached as if it’d been ripped open. If Shawn wasn’t the murderer, then … “Oh my God,” I said, slapping a hand over my mouth.

  John’s eyes widened. “What is it?”

  Guilt racked my body as I looked at him. “Shawn’s in prison because of me.” Squeezing my eyes shut, I could picture him in my mind, broken and alone in a prison cell for nothing. I realize he was a stalker, had been stalking me, but I never thought he’d hurt me. He deserved some punishment for that but not what he ended up getting.

  John tapped my chin and I opened my eyes. “Don’t forget he was obsessed with you and broke into your house a few times.”

  I sighed. “But he never hurt me. I don’t think he ever would.” Other than Shawn stalking me, I never felt unsafe around him. I just couldn’t return his affection.

  John placed a hand over mine, his expression torn. “He’s being released tonight and transferred to a rehab facility in secret. We can’t have the press leaking the story and exposing you. Reed’s father has been helping keep everything quiet, but I wanted to tell you all of this in person just in case it does get out.”

  Everyone I knew in Vermont knew me as Andrea Lockhart, even all of my fellow teachers at the high school I worked at now; except, for the principal. She knew who I really was and needed to because of payroll and tax purposes. Luckily, school had just been let out for the summer. I looked over at the coffee table where a folder sat, filled with papers. “What makes you think the victims were killed by the same guy who murdered my mother?” I asked.

  John followed my line of sight and sighed. “You probably don’t want to see what’s in that file, but I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” He was stalling. There was something he really didn’t want me to see. I looked over at Reed who looked calm and collected in my tan leather chair, watching us curiously as if he was trying to figure something out.

  I focused back on John and glanced down at the file. “Tell me everything.”

  John looked away, but I could see the regret on his face. He ran a hand over his shaved head which was something I’d noticed he did when he was nervous. “So far there have been two girls found dead in North Carolina with the same mutilation as was done to your mother. Though, they were strangled first. Apparently, both of them had boyfriends we haven’t found. The men, or man, had the last name Smith. We think the killer was dating them both. It was a good way for him to get close to them.”

  Swallowing hard, I tried to keep from throwing up the bottle of water I just drank. There were most likely photos in that file, and I wasn’t about to look. However, there was a difference in the attacks. I was never strangled and neither was my mother. “My attacker didn’t strangle me,” I said. And I definitely wasn’t dating him, or any Smith for that matter.

  Reed cleared his throat and I turned my attention to him. “That’s because he’s evolving,” he stated. Just the thought of that made me shiver in fear. Reed leaned forward and stared right at me. “Whoever the killer is made mistakes with you. You got away. Serial killers usually have to kill a few times before they find what works, before they establish a real pattern. The incisions made on these last two victims were done with more expertise, as if he’d been practicing.”

  Even though his words terrified me, there was something about Reed that drew me to him. He was smart, almost like an old soul. His eyes had seen a lot in the world. “You guys still haven’t told me why you think this is related to me and my mother, other than it happened in North Carolina,” I said, glancing at them both. “Were there other similarities?” I wanted to know what John was keeping from me.

  John reached over and placed a hand on mine. “I wish I didn’t have to tell you this.” The time had come. I didn’t know if I was ready to hear what he had to say, but how bad could it be? I’d already lost everything I loved. I couldn’t imagine anything worse. John squeezed my hand. “All of the recent victims are around your age and have blonde hair and hazel eyes.”

  And there it was. I could tell that wasn’t all of it by the look on his face. I didn’t like where all of this was headed. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the killer was targeting women who looked like me. I’d never been eaten up with outright rage as much as I was now. I was angry for my mother and those innocent women. When was it going to end?

  “And?” I huffed through clenched teeth, waving impatiently for him to continue. “I know there’s more.”

  “And,” he continued, looking as if he was going to be sick, “your mother’s sapphire ring was found on the last victim.”

  Out of all the things he could’ve said, I wasn’t expecting that. It was as if I’d been sucker punched in the gut. That sapphire ring was my mother’s favorite. It was the last gift my father had given her before he died. When I packed up her things, I’d noticed it had gone missing. I couldn’t even begin to understand what that meant. There were no words.

  John looked over at Reed and I did
the same. There was so much going on behind Reed’s eyes that I shuddered. Yes, I was furious, but something serious was going on and it terrified me. Reed looked right into my eyes and I could see the truth in them. “I know you’ve been through a lot,” he said, his voice calm, “and I can’t even pretend to know what it’s like for you. It’s too soon to say what’s really going on until I get the answers I need, but from what I can tell, this killer wants you to know he’s out there. My guess is that he’s killing like this to gain the media’s attention. Once your face shows up on the news, someone around here will put two and two together. It’s the easiest way for him to find you.”

  The world spun around me and I could feel my stomach rebelling. “I think I’m going to be sick.” I jumped off the couch and ran out onto my back porch, sucking in as much air as I could. It wasn’t enough. I couldn’t begin to fathom what was going on.

  “Kennedy?”

  Closing my eyes, I let the hot tears fall down my cheeks and took in a shaky breath. “I feel like I’m going insane, John. There are so many emotions fighting inside of me and I don’t know how to deal with them.”

  He came up beside me, his arm brushing up against mine. I felt safe with John around, but now it worried me to be anywhere near people I cared about. They were all in danger if what Reed said was true. If the killer was after me again, the people around me were in the crossfire too. I couldn’t have that.

  John sighed. “We need to put you in protective custody, Kennedy. You’re not safe here alone. I think your alias kept you safe until now but we need to be more aggressive, you need to be safeguarded.”