My heart sinks. I knew she’d be here. I knew she was guilty.
For Lucas’ sake, I’d hoped I was wrong.
“Yeah,” he says carefully.
“Then this must be where she meant,” Deidre answers. “I don’t want to be out here in this cold either. Look, there’s her footprints. She’s inside.”
“Gabby?” Nathan calls.
Hearing my name from his lips knocks the air out of me. I gasp at the rush of emotions. I'd dreamed of this moment since I first saw him at the cemetery months ago. I'd dreamed of a happy reunion, of his strong arms surrounding me, of the words he'd say that would form an explanation of where he’s been all these years.
The man I dreamed of was a figment of my imagination.
This man is a monster who kills for his benefit and shot his own son.
“Come out so I can see you,” he says.
“Lord, let me say what I need to say,” I pray silently, and step out of the shack.
“Man, it’s good to see you,” Nathan says with what sounds like actual excitement.
My mouth has gone dry, and I can only manage a, “Yep.”
Deidre looks from me to him and back at me. “Your text said you wanted in on the coins.”
I say, “Yep,” again and add a nod.
Deidre laughs a little, “We stopped the coin thing years ago. Not long after the children discovered where we were storing them. Paying them off cut into our profits.” She nods to the shack. "Guess you already knew about that. Gregor told me he found you snooping around out here."
“I was out here the other day,” I concede.
“Told you she was good,” Nathan says. His praise sits uncomfortably on me.
Deidre smiles wickedly, “We don’t do the coins anymore. We only ship stronger stuff in the cars now. Are you okay with that?”
I finally find my voice and fain interest, “What kind of stronger stuff?”
“Whatever fits in the cars we sell overseas,” Nathan supplies. “With your special talents, the sky’s the limit on what we can make now.”
“Is there a lot of money in it?” I push.
“Tons,” he says simply. “So you’re in?”
I pretend to seriously think it over. If he knew me at all, he’d know I’d never agree. “Is the money worth it?” I ask finally.
“It pays lots better than being a grease monkey on fancy cars that I’d never be able to own.”
“We’re offering you money, power, prestige. Lots more than you have now with that little freak show you call a shop,” Deidre says with a disturbing smile. “We have a shipment going out soon, and a few details to nail down first. Your help could be vital in making the deal even sweeter.” In her expensive down coat and knee-high boots that cost as much as my car, she fairly glitters with greed.
My stomach churns with distaste and my hand balls into a fist at my side. Ignoring the smiling woman, I lock eyes on Nathan.
“I meant, was the money worth it to destroy your family?”
“Are you going to bring this up now? That was years ago." His calm dismissal stings.
“Right, years of Mom sitting in prison for murdering a man who is obviously not dead.”
“I told you she wouldn’t let that go.” Deidre seems to enjoy our little family drama.
“You hit me in the head that night,” I cry, losing my calm control. “You nearly killed me.”
Deidre breaks into a loud, wild laugh that’s carried on the harsh wind. “Him? He’d never hurt you on purpose.”
I stare at the crazy woman, my mouth open in question.
“My dear, I’m the one who hit you. Nosey little brat, you should have stayed in your room.” The sudden venom startles and nervous sweat drips down my rib cage.
“Deidre,” Nathan snaps. “That’s enough.”
Deidre stops laughing and simpers, “Sorry, Nate.” She bats her eyelashes and slithers around his arm in an overtly flirtatious manner. I lose even more respect for the man when he falls for it. She looks over her shoulder the way she did at the party with Lucas, claiming her victory.
Clinging to his arm, she asks, “So are you in or not?”
It’s my turn to laugh, “Am I in? You really are crazy. I’d never join a group of murdering thieves.”
Deidre's perfectly made up face falters a moment then she forces the smile back. "Murder is a strong word," she warns.
“One that fits. First Crystal, then Lucy, then Vee and Lane. Did you get tired of paying them all off so you took them out?”
Deidre stammers, “Vee and Lane are dead?” Her hair blows in a tumult around her face as she looks from me to Nathan and back. “Lucy was killed by her horse. And Crystal?” Her face crumples. “Crystal was an accident. You said it was an accident.” She drops Nathan’s arm and steps back in disgust.
“It was, I promise." He puts his hands up in defense.
I push my advantage, “The irony is so sweet,” I say touching the scar on my eyebrow. “You hitting me gave me the talents that ultimately brought you down.”
“It’s not true,” Deidre says to me. “You just want to turn me against him.”
“Gabby, stop,” Nathan says in a low growl.
I have no intention of stopping now. “With all your money, you still wear cheap drugstore cologne. I smelled it in my visions of all the bodies you left behind.” Shivers of rage run up my legs and down my arms.
His mouth drops open in surprise, then curls into a sick smile. “Wearing the cologne reminds me of you kids. Believe it or not, I’ve missed you and Dustin. I’ve been closer than you think this whole time.” A wistful look crosses his face. “You put all that together based on what cologne I wear? Come on, we can be rolling in cash if you’re on the team.”
I’ve heard enough. I snatch the gun from my pants and point it at his chest. “I’ll never help you!” I scream, spittle dribbling down my chin. “I’d rather die than help you hurt anyone else.”
“Nathan, Crystal?” Deidre croaks, oblivious to my drawn gun. “She’s lying, right?”
“Of course, babe. I explained it all to you that day,” he soothes Deidre. With hands raised, he tells me, “Okay, calm down. You hate me, I get it.”
My hands shake on the gun, and I clench the handle tighter. Mom’s ring pushes uncomfortably into my finger. “Don’t tell me to calm down,” I snap. “Stop. Just stop right there.”
“We both know you won’t shoot me,” he says, his frustrating calm back in full force.
“I will.” The violent shaking of my hands gives me away. “Don’t come any closer.”
“What’s the plan here, Gabby?” He’s so close, I can smell the Aqua Velva.
I draw a blank, not sure what grand idea I thought I'd come up with if it reached this point.
“Make you turn yourselves in,” I stammer. “Face what you’ve done.”
Disappointment washes over his face, and a gun suddenly appears in his hand glinting in the moonlight.
I stare stupidly at the barrel directed at me. Terror courses through my body, freezing me in place. He shot Dustin with this same gun a few hours ago. He’ll shoot me now and I’ll die alone here in the woods. I look to Deidre for help, but mollified by Nathan’s lies, she’s once again enjoying our drama.
“Don’t, please don’t,” I whimper miserably. My chin quivers so badly, my teeth chatter. I cock my .22, knowing it's not match for his larger gun, knowing I won't be able to shoot him.
Desperately, I think of my tattoo, beg it for an answer.
My tattoo is silent.
“Just shoot the liar, Nate,” Deidre coos into the wind.
“We need her,” Nathan argues.
“Don’t go soft now. We’ve done just fine without her,” she urges. “I’ll make it up to you.” Her blatant romantic enticement over my possible murder makes me sick. Poor Lucas and Gregor, this woman is demented. I shift my aim to Deidre.
I could end this with a pull of my trigger. My finger itches to sque
eze.
As disgusting as her true self is, I can’t do that to Lucas.
The wind howls around us, gusts against my body, carries the scent of dead raccoon on my glove to my nose. The shack creaks against the strain. A snapping board cracks into the night like a gunshot.
Nathan and Deidre turn their heads.
It’s the advantage I need.
With my gun, I smack the larger gun out of Nathan’s hand. It flops into the snow.
I don’t wait for his reaction.
I run.
Chapter 30
GABBY
Nathan’s longer legs reach me after only a few steps. He pushes me towards the riverbank, then tackles.
Ice at the edge of the river slices at my cheeks.
Desperately, I scramble. Only manage to go farther into the river.
The ice breaks and freezing water envelopes my face.
I wriggle onto my back, gasping air, and push with my legs to escape.
Nathan straddles my body, his hands on my throat.
Water soaks into my coat, the weight of the soggy material pulling me down as Nathan pushes me under.
Air. I need air.
The similarities to the vision from Crystal flow through me. The line between what happened to her and what’s happening to me blurs.
The monster in both is the same.
I claw at his face with one hand and the pressure blessedly releases.
“What’s that smell?” he howls.
“Finish her,” Deidre cheers.
Behind his shoulder, I see the heart spray-painted on the side of the shack. "Lucas loves …."
“Lucas, help me,” I think desperately. “Lucas, please.”
Nathan tightens his grasp on my throat and pushes me under again.
Splashing and gurgling, I swing wildly with the gun still in my hand. It bounces ineffectively off his shoulder.
The gun can serve a better use.
I wriggle against the pressure of his body on mine until I can point the gun at his belly.
Pull the trigger and it’s all over.
I can’t pull the trigger. I want to, I need to.
The cross tattoo on my arm screams into life, the intensity stronger than the stinging embrace of the icy water.
Drop the gun and play dead.
“Or pull the trigger,” I argue in my mind.
DROP THE GUN AND PLAY DEAD.
I’ve never disobeyed the words God tells me through the tattoo before.
I obey them now.
I toss the gun and force myself to go slack.
He pushes me deeper underwater. I stay still.
He shoves until my head grinds into the river bottom. I stay still.
He lets go of my neck. I stay still.
He climbs off me and out of the river. I spring to life.
Gasping and crawling through the ice and snow, I wrap my hand around his ankle. A hard pull and he hits the ground, his face in the snow.
Deidre squeals.
I shove my putrid-smelling glove over his mouth, pummel him with my other fist.
He pries at my fingers, squirms and kicks.
I wrap my arm around him to keep my hand over his mouth, search the ground for a weapon.
My wet gloved fingers find a chunk of ice.
“Not so fun when you can’t breathe,” I hiss near his ear. “Now you know how Crystal felt.”
Deidre shouts, “Stop,” as I lift the block of ice high.
I don’t stop, I slam it into his head.
The ice shatters.
Nathan stops struggling.
“I should have killed you when I had the chance years ago,” Deidre screams.
I roll off Nathan’s still body into the snow.
Framed by the moon overhead, her blond hair blowing in the wind, Deidre points the gun directly at my chest.
“You don’t want to do this,” I plead. “Think of Lucas. He loves me. You’ll break his heart.”
“Nate loves me. That didn’t stop you,” she argues.
“Please, Deidre, just drop the gun. We can work this out.”
“There’s nothing left to work out. You’ve ruined everything,” she wails. “Nate?” She toes his side with her expensive boot. “Nate, baby?”
He either moans in response, or it’s the wind.
“He’s not worth it, Deidre,” I say as calmly as possible with her gun pointed at me. “He killed Crystal.”
“He said he didn’t,” she stammers. “He said it was an accident. He wouldn’t lie to me.”
A deep chill from my soaking clothes makes my teeth chatter. “He lied. That’s what he does.”
“Not to me. He said he loved me.”
She sounds so pitiful, I almost feel sorry for her. A shudder wracks my body and I jerk in the snow.
“Gregor loves you too,” I push, my teeth chattering. “Lucas loves you. Just drop the gun before you do something you'll regret."
Her sorrowful expression is chased away by her fake smile and empty eyes. “I only regret leaving you alive that night.”
I try to crawl away, but my limbs won't listen, are heavy with cold. “D-d-d-Deidre, please.”
My wet hair blows against my face, ice crystals scratching my skin.
“D-d-d-Deidre,” she laughs. “Poor girl. Are you cold?”
“Drop the g-g-gun.” Another shudder shakes me. I try to raise a hand in defense against the crazy woman. My arm moves in slow motion.
She looms over me, hair blowing wildly. "Don't worry about Lucas, dear. He'll never know I was here. Too bad you and Nate had such an awful fight."
My frozen lips struggle to form words. “D-d-drop it.”
“Drop the gun!” The familiar male voice shouts into the clearing. “Drop it now.”
Deidre spins in shock, I sink into the snow in relief.
“Lucas, dear. What are you doing here?" she asks in a completely different voice, sounding like a hostess at a party.
Lucas steps into the moonlight, his gun trained on his mother, his eyes darting around the scene. “What’s going on here?”
“Just a friendly dispute with your girlfriend and her dad,” Deidre tries.
“If it’s friendly, lose the gun,” he barks.
Deidre sets the gun prettily in the snow. “I was just trying to help Gabby,” Deidre lies. “She and Nathan had an argument. She hit him in the head.”
“That’s Nathan McAllister?”
Deidre doesn’t answer and my frozen lips won’t make the words.
Lucas picks up Deidre’s gun then kneels next to me. “Gabby, are you hurt?” His hands roam my body looking for injuries. My mind is sluggish and I can’t focus my eyes.
“She got a little wet. This cold isn’t good for her.”
Lucas strips off my wet coat, then take off his. The coat is warm from his body, and the heat penetrates my chill enough so I can speak.
“Arrest her,” I mutter, sitting up.
“Now, Gabby, what an awful thing to say,” Deidre protests. “She must be delirious.”
Lucas searches my face. I put all my emotions into my expression.
Confused, he decides to trust me.
“I don’t know what’s going on here, but you’re lying about it and you had a gun on Gabby. Put your hands behind your back.”
“Lucas, no,” she pouts, backing away. “You can’t arrest me.”
“I’m just detaining you for now.”
“I won’t let you. I’m your mother.” She continues backing away, her eyes desperate.
“Which is why I’m being polite instead of just cuffing you when I got here. Now give me your hands.”
Deidre spins and attempts to run.
She plows into the side of the shack and bounces off.
The shack shudders at the impact.
Lucas grabs her wrist and wrangles it behind her back.
The shack strains against the howling wind.
The old wood creaks and moans. Slowly, the r
otten building leans, shakes. Cracks of breaking wood fill the air. All at once, the shack gives up and crashes to the ground like a pile of broken bones.
A whoosh of putrid air flows out, the stench of years of neglect released from the decrepit walls.
The three of us stare in shock.
“Holy crap,” Deidre says.
“That shack was bound to come down sometime,” Lucas says.
“Not the shack,” Deidre says. “Nate is gone.”
The shape his body left in the snow lies empty like a snow angel. Footprints fade into the woods.
Lucas runs a few steps into the woods, following the trail.
"Don't," I manage to say loud enough to stop him.
Lucas notices my chattering and shivering under his dry coat. “We need to get you out of here,” he says, picking me up and cradling me against his chest. “Mom, don’t try anything stupid and come with me.”
I hate that Lucas has to carry me.
I hate that he had to arrest his own mother.
I hate that Nathan got away again.
With my head lolling against Lucas’ shoulder, a single thought keeps me warm.
My mother will be coming home.
After placing me in the front seat of his cruiser and buckling me in, Lucas opens the back door for Deidre. She squeezes into the cramped seat, muttering her distaste.
If you don’t like being arrested, you shouldn’t have become a criminal.
He starts the car and cranks the heat. “Good thing you said your tire was stuck again,” he says nodding to my Charger parked awkwardly on the side of the road. “Or I wouldn’t have known where to find you.”
“Sorry about that,” I mutter against my shivers.
“You have to stop running into trouble on your own. I’m always here to help.” He glances in the rear-view mirror at his mom. “And you, what the heck is going on here?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she pouts prettily. “It’s all a misunderstanding.”
I yearn to shout about all her ‘misunderstandings’ but this isn’t the place. Lucas will get the whole story soon enough.
“Can you take me home?” I ask.
“You mean to the hospital?”
“I am going to the hospital, but only for Dustin. I just need a shower and some dry clothes first.”
Thinking of Dustin sobers us instantly.
“What happened to Dustin?” Deidre asks.
Message in the Grave Page 16