Born in Mystery

by Susan Kearney

  The stalker? She didn’t think so.

  Had she been so concerned about Gran, she’d missed the obvious? She turned over possibilities and dredged up Uncle Bob’s accusations. He’d accused her of taking the stock, but that was the liquor talking. Although he was about the size and weight of her attacker, many men met that criteria.

  As she recalled drinking coffee in his home, sadness overcame her. The man on the floor was nothing like the man who’d defrosted coffee cake in his kitchen. Yet as violent and obnoxious as he’d been today, nothing he’d said convinced her he was the stalker.

  “Calling the police isn’t necessary. He’s just drunk.”

  “If you say so.” Fred put down the phone and rolled Bob to a less awkward angle. As Bob turned, a paper fell out of his pocket. Fred picked it up and tossed it onto the coffee table.

  What should they do with her uncle? She didn’t want him here when Gran wakened.

  She considered splashing water on his face. Then her eyes skimmed the paper. She gasped. Typewritten in the same style as the other notes were the words, “The time is nearing.” The note was signed, “The Sentry.”

  Oh, no. She didn’t want to believe it. But the evidence was right in front of her eyes. Uncle Bob was the stalker! She collapsed onto the couch, her stomach churning. She should call Craig, call the police. She couldn’t move. Couldn’t think.

  “What’s wrong?” Fred asked.

  She handed him the note to read. “You were right. Call the police.”

  “I’ll cancel my tennis lesson. No doubt the police will want us to go downtown. You’ll have to give a statement.”

  CRAIG HURRIED OUT of his office building, pleased with the contracts his attorney had drawn up. While he’d been occupied with Bianca, one of his salespeople had brought in a large and lucrative account that would substantially increase their volume. His secretary had found a less expensive way to ship from Singapore that would save thousands of dollars, while a new Taiwanese supplier seemed anxious to give them advantageous credit terms. Business couldn’t be better.

  He could well afford the purchase he was about to make. The jewelry store he entered was surprisingly crowded with shoppers. Not knowing exactly what he wanted, he took his time, peering into cases glittering with gold and silver. He bypassed the traditional diamond engagement rings. Bianca needed something more exotic.

  And if they were to continue their masquerade as husband and wife, she also needed a wedding ring. He made his purchases with care and placed the jewelry boxes in his coat pocket.

  Eager to return to Bianca, he wondered how she’d react when she saw the ring he’d picked out. When he suggested they make their marriage a real one, he wondered what she’d say. After the way he’d responded to her, his feelings for her must be obvious. She had to know he loved her just as much as she loved him.

  He would never forget Linda, but he would honor her memory by loving their children. And by finding a loving mother for them. Bianca was that women. She was sacrificing so much to have the twins. And she was already determined to protect them.

  Craig felt light, as if a giant weight was no longer pressing on him, as if the walls he’d blocked himself behind were gone. The sun was brighter, the air crisper. He felt alive. And it was all due to Bianca.

  Finally, the timing was right. And finally, he believed she was ready to hear the words he’d kept back for fear of scaring her away.

  Mapping out their future, he drove back to Jarrod’s Assisted Living facility. With the company’s increased cash flow, he could afford to hire a full-time bodyguard to protect Bianca until they caught the stalker. She could return to law school next semester.

  When he knocked on the door of the apartment, Gran yanked the door open. He took one look at her compressed lips, her hollowed cheeks and her drawn features, and his pulse skyrocketed.

  “What is it?”

  “Bianca’s in trouble.”

  BIANCA AND FRED left Bob in custody at the police station. Her uncle had finally come to and insisted he’d never stalked her. He’d even claimed he’d never seen the note.

  The worst part was he might really not remember what he had done while he was drinking. Bianca still wanted to believe that sober, he would never have put her through the terror of these past months.

  She’d tried to call Craig from the police station, but his secretary said he was in the middle of a meeting with his attorney and had turned his cell phone off. Bianca felt guilty for all the time he’d missed from his business and, without leaving her name, said she’d call back.

  Fred swung off the freeway. “There’s something I want to show you.”

  “What?”

  Fred grinned. “The surprise is in the attic of Gran’s old house.”

  “We can’t go inside. It’s rented. Besides, Gran and I put everything in storage.”

  “The tenants are on vacation, and your grandmother gave me the key. This won’t take long.”

  Apprehension, unexpected in its fierceness, sliced through her. Although Bianca had asked a neighbor to look in on her grandmother before they’d accompanied the police to the station, Bianca wanted to hear her grandmother’s voice reassure her. “Okay, let me make sure Gran’s all right and tell her I’ll be later than we thought.”

  While she pulled the trac phone from her purse, he picked up a newspaper and rolled it nervously. While the phone started ringing at her grandmother’s apartment, Fred struck the rolled newspaper against his palm. His actions jarred her.

  With a sense of déjà vu, she recalled the motorcyclist in the park, his baton striking a gloved hand with those exact movements.

  Oh, God. Fred was the stalker! Not Uncle Bob.

  She needed to run. But even if she could escape the car, the parking lot was empty, the street vacant. Fright made her thoughts race. Fred didn’t know she knew. As long as she pretended ignorance, he wouldn’t watch her so closely. She could still get away.

  “Hello,” Gran said.

  “Hi, Gran.”

  Fred’s brow creased in surprise and annoyance. “She’s awake?”

  “Fred’s taking me to the old house—”

  Fred plucked the phone from her hand and tossed it out the window. He grabbed Bianca’s arm, his strong fingers giving her no chance to escape.

  “Fred, calm down. What’s wrong?” She made a stab of pretending ignorance but shook inside at the thought of being alone with him. Little things came back to her. Fred had often been with Gran and her and had overheard their conversations, known where to find her. He could have followed her after one of her visits and she hadn’t noticed.

  Perhaps while she’d been in Gran’s bedroom, he’d planted the note on Bob. It was Fred who’d sliced her underwear, watched her shower, threatened her and the babies.

  Craig’s babies. Her babies. She had to save their babies.

  Fred threw the car into gear and stepped on the gas. “I gave Gran enough pills to knock out a bull. I didn’t want her to worry. She should have been sleeping.”

  He didn’t want Gran to worry? What was he thinking?

  It didn’t matter. She had to concentrate on what to do next. Had Gran heard her say where they were going? Or had Fred cut her off too soon? If drugged, would Gran even realize anything was wrong?

  She couldn’t count on Gran. Bianca was on her own. If she wanted to escape, she’d have to do it by herself.

  Bianca considered jumping out while the car was moving. Slowly, careful not to make any big movements, she edged to the door. When he slowed, she’d make a run for it.

  Fred’s hand clamped onto her neck, and he hauled her against him. “Don’t even think about it. Now that I have you, I’m keeping you.”

  An ominous shiver froze her bones to ice. She had to keep her wits about her.

&n
bsp; “Talk to me. Tell me what you want.”

  He stroked her neck as if she belonged with him. Acid burned her stomach, and she feared she might be sick.

  “I want you to honor your promise,” he said so softly, so gently, she almost didn’t hear.

  “What promise?”

  “Your promise to marry me.” He sounded hurt.

  She had no idea what he was talking about. Had he dreamed this up? Or mixed her up with another woman?

  “You must have me confused with your fiancée.”

  “No. You are confused. Don’t you remember you promised to be my fiancée?” Fred shook his head, his eyes filled with misery. “We played dress up in the attic. I wore your father’s suit, and you wore your mother’s—”

  “Wedding dress.” She did remember. He’d asked her to marry him every day for an entire winter when she was six years old. Every day, she’d accepted. Finally, the novelty of the game wore off, and they’d moved on to playing Monopoly and Scrabble.

  His voice was triumphant. “So you do remember?”

  “We were kids, playacting. It was a game.”

  He smiled, and his voice softened dreamily. “Not for me. I thought you’d dump Kendrick when he couldn’t protect you. You were supposed to come back to me. You were supposed to marry me like you promised. Instead, you got knocked up, but we can fix that.”

  Her stomach knotted into a nauseous ball.

  “I love you,” he crooned. “I’ve always loved you. I’m going to love you forever.”

  Bianca’s thoughts raced with panic. “Why are you taking me to the old house?”

  Fred flashed her a grin. “It’s a surprise I’ve been planning for a very long time.”

  She didn’t like the sound of his tone, the sly look in his eyes or the sneaky curl of his lips. She’d suffered more than enough of Fred’s “surprises” to last her a lifetime.

  But she couldn’t escape him before they reached the old neighborhood. The nearby homes would be mostly empty. Gran had raised her in a two-income-family subdivision where most mothers worked to make ends meet. At this time of day, the kids wouldn’t yet be out of school. Few people on the street had the luxury of time and energy to play tennis. However, even if a neighbor spotted Fred’s tennis whites, his attire wasn’t odd enough to cause someone to investigate.

  She couldn’t depend on outside help. She needed to make her move before Fred got her inside the house. If she hadn’t been pregnant, she might have risked jerking the steering wheel and crashing the car into a parked vehicle.

  Instead, she looked for a weapon. The car was meticulously clean, and she found nothing useful until her gaze took in the cigarette lighter. She leaned forward, flicked on the radio, tuned to a local pop station until the vehicle flooded with Lady Gaga’s latest hit, then casually pushed in the cigarette lighter.

  A vague plan formed. Fred would have to exit the vehicle first. While he did, she’d grab the fiery lighter, jab him and run like hell for the Lightners’ house across the street from Gran’s. Mr. Lightner might be at home.

  It wasn’t much of a plan. With much of his time devoted to athletics, Fred was in excellent condition. No doubt he could run her into the ground.

  But not if he was injured.

  She tensed as he pulled into the neighborhood. Nothing had changed much, except the houses seemed smaller than she remembered and closer to the road. They still had oil stains on the driveways, crabgrass in the lawns and toys in the yards. Shingles curled on many of the roofs. Two cats chased a neighborhood dog.

  Gran had made a good home for her. Although Bianca had lost both her parents, she’d lived a relatively normal childhood. Lots of kids had it worse. Gran had kept her in food and clothes. More important, she’d loved her.

  If anything happened to Bianca, her grandmother would be heartbroken. And she’d have no one to look after her. A lump formed in Bianca’s throat. If Craig lost the babies, he might go back into isolation mode.

  Adrenaline surged through her as she steeled herself.

  Fred drove down the street. He must have sensed her restlessness. “Take it easy. I know you’re anxious to be with me. But I want to drive around the block, make sure no one is watching the house.”

  “I understand,” she said softly, thinking it best to agree, hoping he’d drop his guard.

  Bianca breathed deeply, readying herself. She’d only have one chance. Her heart pounded like a scared rabbit’s, but she tried to appear unflustered as Fred parked in the driveway.

  Just as she’d expected, he opened his door and exited the driver’s side of the car while maintaining a grip on her wrist and yanking. With her free hand, she seized the red-tipped lighter. Reminded herself to pick the right time, the right target.

  Not too soon.

  She needed to be clear of the car. On her feet. Ready to run.

  Wait.

  Wait.

  Wait.

  Fred held tight to her wrist. As he pulled her out of the car, she hid the weapon at her side and behind the open door. He scanned the street, paying no attention to her. Seizing her opportunity, she jammed the lighter into his bare tanned thigh.

  The stench of burning flesh filled her nostrils. Fred howled in agony, dropped her wrist and clutched his injured leg.

  Nerves screaming, heart pounding, Bianca bolted for the street.

  Chapter Thirteen

  BIANCA SPRINTED across the street as fast as her legs could carry her. She didn’t dare look back. Didn’t have to see Fred’s reaction to comprehend the pain in his thigh had only momentarily distracted him from swift pursuit. She forced her legs to move faster. Pumped her arms.

  If she could just reach the neighbor’s house. Mr. Lightner worked nights. She could wake him. Get some help.

  Footsteps pounded behind her, the menacing beat of the chase matching the pulse roaring in her ears. Horror welled up in her. Besides possessing the physical fitness of a conditioned athlete, Fred had the advantage of longer legs and tennis shoes. Despite her head start, his steps sounded right behind her. The heat of his breath seared her neck.

  A hand caught her hair, painfully yanked her to a stop. She gasped in agony, couldn’t prevent angry tears coursing down her cheeks. She flailed at him with her arms. Kicked his shin. Screamed as loud as she could.

  “Stop it!” Impatience frosted his voice as he jerked her against his chest.

  When she continued to scream, he wrapped an arm around her throat. Cut off her air.

  “Don’t make me hurt you. I know you’re frightened, but it’s going to be all right.” His soft, crooning tone contrasted with the hard muscles forcing her back across the street and into Gran’s house. The closeness of his body smacked up against hers denied her any further chance of escape.

  His words did not reassure her. Nothing would ever be all right again.

  CRAIG’S ANXIETY MULTIPLYIED during the drive, and he pushed the speed limit. After talking to Bianca’s grandmother, he’d learned that Bianca was alone with Fred, who was taking her to an old house. Although he’d never suspected the handsome tennis player of stalking, he should have questioned whether Fred had some ulterior motive for assisting Bianca’s grandmother.

  Fred could easily have arranged for the nurse Gran had hired to appear guilty of theft so the old woman would depend only on him. He could have broken into Harry’s office and stolen Bianca’s parents’ file. Perhaps he was after the old stock certificates. He’d listened to phone conversations. Knew their plans. From the beginning, Bianca had suspected someone at the police department of tracking her movements, but all along, it had been someone much closer to home.

  Fred had fooled them all with his fair-haired, tanned, all-American looks. His helpful manner and willingness to please had disguised cunning patience.

  Tires
squealing, Craig skidded around a corner, swerved past a parked car, a deep, gnawing fear that was almost physical clawing inside him. What did Fred want with Bianca? Would he hurt her?

  At the thought of losing Bianca, he felt a sharp pain in his chest as if a mule had kicked him. He refused to lose another woman he loved.

  Falling in love with Bianca had helped him reconcile with a past he couldn’t change. She and the babies had given him a future again.

  Losing her would be intolerable, unacceptable, would shear his heart in two. Bianca meant so much to him, but he’d feared telling her might scare her. Or worse, she’d think he was claiming an emotion he didn’t really feel because of the babies.

  By God, Bianca and his children wouldn’t come to any harm because he’d abandoned them to sign a business contract. Bianca was his future.

  But he might be too late and an icy shiver scuttled down his back.

  A HALF HOUR AGO, when Bianca had seen the house’s interior, her stomach plummeted. The living-room furniture had been shoved into the kitchen to leave a huge, empty space.

  Somehow, Fred had dragged Gran’s old freestanding antique mirror into the middle of the room. This mirror had once stood in the attic. They’d posed in front of it. Fred must have removed the piece from storage and transported it here. On the mirror and still in plastic bags from the dry cleaner hung her mother’s wedding dress and the navy suit her father had been married in.

  “Surprise!” He released her, chuckling happily as if she should be delighted he’d kidnapped her.

  The moment he freed her, she spun toward the door. Before she’d taken two steps, Fred slammed the door shut with his palm and cut off her escape.

  He shook a finger at her. “None of that.” Gleefully, he rubbed his hands together. “I’ve waited too long for this moment.”

  Panic flooded her at his crazed happiness. He’d flipped out. Instinct told her to run, hide. Common sense told her there was nowhere to go. She’d never flee through the furniture-filled kitchen to the back door before he caught her again. There was no benefit either to her or the babies in making him angry. He was faster and stronger.