Upon opening the door, I realized we could never be that lucky.
Lori seemed to have forgotten I was even there as she slipped her skirt down to her ankles, showing us both her red G-string. She once again draped herself over Casey, kissing him hard on the lips.
"I'll make her some coffee," I muttered as he scooped her into his arms and carried her down the hallway. I knew he was trying to do the right thing, and I knew he wasn't interested in her, but she was in pretty damned good shape, and right now he was laying her down on her bed as she seductively kissed him. I mean, how strong was his constitution? Could he resist her after all that? I said a quick prayer that he would as I searched the kitchen for a cup.
Geez, her kitchen was big. How many cupboards did a couple need?
The coffee started to warm up as Lori's giggles floated my way. Hurry up, Sam! You need to sober her up.
Ignoring the stuffed black rat staring at me as it sat on the countertop, I opened a door. Nope, no cups in there. I tried another and then another. I even tried the drawers. And that was when I found it. Sitting amongst the pens, paperclips, and notepads was a book that looked old. The cover was old cracked leather, the pages were yellowed, and the faded words Captain James Carnavon III were stamped in gold leaf across the front. It was the captain's journal. The one that had been in Ryan's safe and the one we had all since been looking for.
But what was it doing here? In Lori and Martin's messy drawer? I carefully lifted it out and opened the pages as Lori's giggles and groans filtered down the hallway. New pieces of paper, handwritten words scrawled across them, were stuck in various places. I assumed the handwriting belonged to Ryan as I silently read the notes he had made, unraveling the clues as to where the captain had left the treasure.
Confusion fogged my brain as I wondered how and why it was here. I was so engrossed in what I was reading that I didn't even hear Martin enter the house and make his way down the hallway.
It was Lori's scream that alerted me to that.
* * *
By the time I reached the bedroom, Martin was standing over the bed, and Casey was lying unconscious on the duvet, blood dripping from a wound to the back of his head.
"I should have just killed you from the start," said Martin, his hand clenching the wooden bat in his hand. "I should never come home and find my wife in bed, another man on top of her, making love."
"Martin, what have you done?" screamed Lori, falling onto Casey, sobbing.
My breath stuck in my throat as I stood watching him, my feet seemingly glued to the carpet. I needed to see Casey move, to breathe. Anything! I just needed to know he was alive.
"Shut up, Lori," Martin spat. "I warned you. I told you to stay away from him, but you wouldn't. It's just like last time!" He twirled the baseball bat in his hand as he spoke.
"No it's not," she cried. "It's nothing like last time. It's nothing like Paul."
"It's exactly like Paul." Martin said it quietly. So quietly it sent chills up my spine.
"Casey has done nothing wrong. You don't need to kill him! Please, don't do that again. Please. He's not another Paul." Lori laid herself across Casey's back, attempting to protect him, but Martin grabbed her arm and threw her aside, pulling back the bat, ready to take another swing
My mind caught up, my feet unglued themselves, and I launched myself at him, grabbing his hair and jumping onto his back.
"No!" I screamed.
Surprise caught Martin, and we both fell to the bed. He was fast. Faster than I was. He flung me off and spun around, his eyes blazing with anger.
I thought he was going to hit me.
"Samantha?" he yelled vehemently, the bat raised. "What the f…"
He didn't get to finish his sentence as Lori launched herself at him, her nails bared, scraping his face and drawing blood.
Martin screamed and jumped off the bed.
"All I've done for you, and this is how you repay me?" he said, his breathing ragged and uneven.
"Done for me?" screamed Lori. "Done for me?"
"Yes. I should have killed him the first time I saw you all over him. Instead I did as you asked. I didn't kill him. I found another way to punish him, another way to get rid of him. I did that for you!"
My head pounded as I listened. What was he talking about?
"I'm really sorry about this, Samantha," Martin said, approaching me. "I like you. It'll be a shame to kill you too, but I warned you to stay away from Casey."
"Then don't kill me. You don't need to kill me. I have no idea what you're even talking about. In fact, why don't I just go now?" I wiggled forward on the bed, ready to make a run for it. If I could do that, I could call the police and find something to stop Martin from hurting anyone. He pushed me back hard, shaking his head.
"I have to. But you can blame that boyfriend of yours. This is all his fault."
"Oh, Martin, this is not his fault," screamed Lori. "He has done nothing wrong!"
"Nothing wrong!" yelled Martin, his face going an awful shade of red.
"Yes. Nothing. He's innocent!"
"So screwing my wife is nothing, is it?" Martin bellowed.
I looked to Casey, swallowing hard. I knew he wouldn't have slept with Lori. I knew it.
"Haven't you punished him enough?" said Lori, her eyes filling with tears.
She'd sobered up pretty quickly, but I guess a maniac husband would do that to you.
"No, I haven't. That stupid detective didn't arrest him. He was supposed to be in jail now!"
What was he talking about?
Martin looked at me and smiled.
"Your plan was a stupid one," spat Lori.
"It was a good plan! I killed that friend of his with an ice pick from The Lava Pot. Then I told the police I saw the two of them arguing the night before. I'd overheard them talking in the bar and learned their history pretty damned quickly. His friend sleeping with his fiancée gave Casey enough motive for revenge, didn't it? I of all people understand that."
"But…but how did you know where Ryan was going to be?" I asked, my mind whirring in an attempt to keep up.
"That was the ingenious part of the plan. I took him there," Martin said, smiling. "That night in The Lava Pot, I heard him talking to you about that petrified tree. I knew where it was because Lori, Paul, and I hunted in that area for years. It was why it was so easy to get Paul there the day that I killed him," explained Martin, lost in a memory, the anger in his eyes slipping and being replaced with sadness. "We were all friends once. I just didn't realize how friendly he and Lori had become until the day that I saw them together. I was going to lose her," he whispered, a lone tear escaping from behind his lashes. "I couldn't let that happen. I had to get rid of him. So I lured him out into the forest, shot him, and buried him there near that petrified tree."
He held Lori's stare, and I saw her gulp. A sick look of satisfaction entered his eyes before he turned towards Casey. "So you see, when I saw Lori looking at Casey the same way she looked at Paul, I knew I had to do something," he continued. "I had it all worked out. That night I tracked Ryan down and told him I would show him the way to where he needed to go. Hardly anyone ever goes out there, so I knew it was a good place to kill him. And killing him was easy. I've been hunting most of my life, so I knew what to do. I snuck up behind him and dug that ice pick into his throat. Never killed anything with an ice pick before. If it had been a knife, I would have slit his throat, but as it wasn't, I had to get creative. And the stupid idiot didn't even suspect anything. Too busy taking his own photo." Martin stood back on his heels and laughed.
I leaned over the edge of the bed and threw up.
I thought I knew Martin. I wouldn't have called him a friend, but I had thought he was a good guy and didn't deserve Lori. Boy, was I wrong.
"So that's why you took the journal," I said, tears pouring with every convulsion of my stomach. But no matter what, I knew I had to keep him talking. "To stop anyone looking for the treasure, and eliminating the
risk of that ground being dug up and Paul being found."
"The journal?"
"The captain's journal. I found it in the kitchen drawer." I wiped my tears with the back of my hand, attempting to pull myself together.
Martin chuckled. "You catch on quickly, Samantha. I knew you were a smart girl." He gave a smug smile as he spun the bat and stepped towards Casey.
Not smart enough, obviously.
"H-hang on," I stammered, panic swooping, wanting to keep Martin away from Casey. "How did you know we would find his body?"
"I didn't. That was just lucky in a way. My original plan was to wait a day or so and then tell the police I was out hunting and found the body."
Geez, that was one calculated murder. "If you hate Casey so much, why didn't you kill him? You obviously know how," I questioned, attempting to distract him for a little while longer. Lori had slunk off the bed, and I was hoping she was going to get out and call the police without Martin noticing.
"Because then the police would come looking for whoever killed him. I wanted him out of the way, but I definitely didn't want them looking into me. I had no motive to kill that other guy. They had no reason to come looking at me. But Casey was another story. He had motive, he had opportunity, and he had the murder weapon." The sick look of glee shone in Martin's eyes.
"Now what?" I asked, watching Lori out of the corner of my eye.
"Now I kill you all. Except Lori. I love her, and she already knows my secrets. I just need to make her understand fidelity."
Martin grabbed my arm and pulled me to standing as Lori scurried out the door. My stomach felt sick with the knowledge that Ryan's murder was so calculated.
"How…how…w-will you explain our disappearance?" I asked, willing Lori to hurry up. A door slammed somewhere in the house.
"Don't know yet, but Lori will figure that out. She's done it before."
"I thought I knew you," I said as the tears once again broke their barrier. "I felt sorry for you, being married to her."
"Yeah and all the time she was screwing your boyfriend."
"Y…you n-never thought to tell me?" I asked, sniveling. Maybe changing tactics could get Martin on my side.
"Oh geez, don't start crying," he said, releasing his grip. "This is why I didn't tell you." He pulled me in close, hugging me tight. "I actually like you, Samantha. You were like the daughter I never had, which is why I sent you the yellow roses as a warning of what was going on. I wanted to let you know that I was watching out for you and that everything would be okay."
Oh, that was what the mixed-up words were. "Come on, there, there." He patted my back and cooed in my ear.
Something in his mind had snapped. It had broken into two pieces, leaving his sense of reality on the other side.
I didn't know what to do next. Casey was starting to stir on the bed. I wanted to run to him, to make sure he was okay, but I needed to have Martin on my side. It was the only way we stood a chance. Keep him busy until Lori brought help.
"Alright, this is what I'm going to do," said Martin, kissing the top of my head. "I'm going to finish him off. I know you think you love him, but he's just like the rest. I need to protect you from a life like that. Lori did that to me, but I can prevent that happening to you. You don't need to live the life I have. You don't need to go through the pain I have been through. Okay?" Yanking my hair, he pulled my head backwards until he was looking into my face. "Okay?"
I nodded as fresh tears stung my eyes. I had thought he was going to kill me, but maybe he'd changed his mind.
"Okay," he said releasing me. "Now where has Lori gone? She needs to see this. It's the only way she'll stop her behavior." He turned and left the room. "Lori!" he called as he made his way down the hallway. "Lori!"
I saw my chance. I scurried across the bedspread to Casey.
"Please, please tell me you're okay. Please be alive," I whispered, looking at his blood.
His eyelashes fluttered, and I gave a huge sigh of relief. At least we had gotten this far.
"Casey!" I cried. "Casey, please wake up. I need you to wake up." I lifted his head into my lap and looked down at his gorgeous face. "I need you," I whispered.
His eyes opened, and he looked back at me, unfocused.
Oh thank God!
"I need you to get up," I said, listening for any movement in the hall. "There's a window. We can get out of it and get help. Can you get up?"
Casey blinked a few times and gave a small nod.
Okay, that was a start.
I leaped off the bed and to the window, opening it as quietly as I could. Martin was still calling Lori's name somewhere around the kitchen.
Once the window was open, I moved back to Casey, simultaneously pulling my phone from my pocket and speed-dialing Detective Ray. Please pick up, I willed.
"Casey, I need you to get up. Can you move?" I asked as I heard the phone ringing on the other end, summoning help.
He groaned and rolled onto his back then stood up. His balance was off, and he fell backwards onto the mattress, so I pushed the phone between my shoulder and my ear, helped him to his feet, and half carried him to the window. The phone sang in my ear—brr-brr, brr-brr.
"It's okay, Sam," Casey said to me. "I'm okay. Just give me a second."
"We don't have a second," I hissed. "Martin could be back anytime soon." Brr-brr, brr-brr.
"Martin?" he asked.
"Yes, Martin. The guy wanting to kill us all right about now!" I really didn't have time to stop and explain. I just needed to get both of us out of the window and to safety.
"Is that who hit me?"
"Yes. Now would you shut up and move?" Brr-brr.
We made it to the window, and I was about to help him out when he stopped. "No. You go first," he said.
"Seriously?"
"Yes. You go first."
Okay, whatever. Like I said, no time to argue! Putting the phone back into my palm, it only took me a second to get one leg over the sill and outside. Casey's hand touched my shoulder and gave me a good hard shove as a deep voice coming from within the room muttered the words, "No one's going anywhere."
Martin was back.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
A hibiscus shrub broke my fall.
It took me a second to get my bearings and figure out what part of the garden I was in, but when I did, I realized I was at the back of the house. I blinked against the darkness and looked at the window I had just fallen out of.
Casey was silhouetted against the light, and I had no idea where my phone had gone. Shit!
Okay, I needed plan B. What was plan B? I had no bloody idea!
The sound of smashing glass filled the night air.
Reacting on impulse, I ran. I ran towards anything that would get me back inside. I had to get to Casey, to save him. I loved him, and I wasn't giving up on him that easily.
Finding a door, I yanked it open and threw myself in.
The house was dark, the only light now coming from the bedroom. Martin's voice crept across my skin as I searched for a weapon. Anything that would help protect us against him.
My eyes were adjusting as I felt my way around the edges of the room, wanting to get to the kitchen. Kitchens held all sorts of things that could be used as a weapon. I wasn't fussy—I could improvise.
Instead I fell over Lori, curled up in the fetal position, rocking on the lounge room floor.
"Lori?" I hissed, rolling onto carpet.
She whimpered a response.
"You were supposed to be getting help!" Fear spiked as I realized help was not on the way like I thought it would be. How could Lori do that? How could she?
"No. I can't do this again. I can't. It's just like last time."
"Get up!" I snapped, standing myself. "You started this mess…now you need to get in there and talk Martin off the ledge."
Casey's voice echoed down the hall. He was denying all involvement with Lori, and he didn't seem to be doing a very good job.
; Martin gave a frustrated scream, and the sound of wood splintering filled the air.
"Lori! Now! Get up and help. Casey needs you," I added.
"But you don't understand…"
"I bloody well understand alright! You're a slut, and Martin's had enough. Instead of dealing with it like a sane, rational person, he's morphed into a psychopath and is killing people. Does that sum it up?" I was getting close to morphing myself.
I picked up a ceramic vase from the nearby side table. I felt its weight, wondering if it was heavy enough to stop a grown man.
The vase felt lightweight, but it would have to do. If nothing else, it might distract Martin long enough so that plan B could come into effect. Plan B was being made up as I went along.
I left Lori to decide what was right and crept along the carpeted hall. The light blasting from the bedroom caused me to blink, but I could see Casey standing on the opposite side of the room, blood oozing from his lip. He faced Martin head on, his hands raised in defense, courage filling his eyes.
Martin was calm. Chillingly calm.
His back was to me, and his arms were raised, his hunting rifle pointing directly at Casey.
My heart hammered against my rib cage, and I felt light-headed as I lifted the vase and smacked it down over Martin's head. He stumbled and dropped the gun. It hit the bed before landing on the floor and firing.
"No!"
Lori's scream reverberated in my ear. She pushed past me and launched herself at Martin.
Casey leaped across the bed and dragged me out of the room. Thank God the bullet had missed him.
"Go!" he yelled, pushing me back down the hall. "Go! Get help!"
Over his shoulder I saw Martin regain his composure as Lori jumped on the gun and raised it at him.
"You have to be stopped!" she yelled. "I'm truly sorry for all I have done. I really do love you, Martin, but this is the only way." Tears ran down her cheeks as she said, "Goodbye."
The deafening sound of the gunshot rang in my ears.
Martin slumped to the floor, blood splattering the wall behind him.
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