by Dawn Altieri
Hope surged through her.
With them, she might actually have a prayer of Jake finding her.
She folded her fingers around the earrings and crammed them into her back pocket. Somehow as Matt barreled toward the door with his hand clenched around her wrist, he didn’t notice.
Chapter Sixty-Four
Finally, the rumble of engines announced the arrival of the Mount Pleasant Police Department at Matt Sommers’s lake house. Jake pulled himself together and headed up the stairs to meet them. The sunlight stung his eyes as he emerged from the damp, dimly lit basement. There was so much to go through down in that basement, but he’d let the other officers continue that job. He needed to get to Emma.
Mack headed toward the responding officers to bring them up to speed, but Jake hung back to fish his vibrating phone from his pocket. “Yeah, Al.”
“I’ve got nothing out here in Jersey,” Marino said. “You got anything at the Westchester house?”
Jake shook his head to clear it. “It’s him. Sommers is our man. He’s got a fucking shrine in his basement. Pictures of all the vics.” And pictures of Emma. He couldn’t say the last words out loud. Those photographs would be burned in his memory for the rest of his life. His mind clouded with the image of Sommers’s note at the gala, his promise to make Emma his. “He’s going after Emma next.” Jake’s stomach churned. “I’m heading to Bayville. Touch base with O’Shea for me and fill him in.”
“You got it,” Al said.
Jake glanced toward Mack, who waved to tell him to go, so he climbed into the Tahoe and fired up the engine. He tried Emma’s cell again and got no answer, then tried Adam’s and got the same. Then he called Sergeant Perez and ordered him to check the beach house again, to go inside and talk to Emma, to be absolutely certain she was okay.
Jake raced through one town after another on autopilot with the emergency lights flaring, determined to make it to the beach house before Sommers did. At last, he rounded the turn onto his street—the street that held so many childhood memories—and his heart froze in his chest.
Four patrol cars and an ambulance sat at odd angles in front of his cottage, lights flashing and cutting through the impending evening darkness. The only memory that filled his head now was of his mother’s lifeless body on the front lawn surrounded by the emergency responders who’d arrived too late.
He shut the image out as fast as it had come to him.
He slammed the SUV into park, jumped out, and tore across the lawn. Mike Perez approached him.
“We’ve got your colleague in the bus,” he said in his thick Long Island accent, gesturing toward the ambulance. “Found him bound and gagged in the living room. The rest of the house was empty.”
Jake sprinted toward the open front door where several local officers stood facing the living room. He pushed past them, needing to see for himself. The room had been trashed, with broken glass and picture frames and blood all over the floor.
“Where is she?” he demanded.
“We don’t know,” Perez answered. “Sommers must have gotten your guy out of the way and then taken off with her. We’ve got nothing to go on.”
Jake scanned the room again, his thoughts racing. Jesus. Sommers had her.
Maybe he wouldn’t hurt her. Maybe she still had no idea what he’d done. As much as it sickened Jake, the fact that she trusted the bastard could work in her favor. But how to find her?
Jake could call in a trace on her cell phone—if she even had it on her—but that would take too long.
His gaze settled on the lamp table, his mind snagging on something different about it. But what?
The earrings.
She’d dropped them there earlier that morning, but now they were gone.
She must have been able to grab them. That’s my girl.
He ripped his phone from his pocket and activated the tracking software. His heart soared as a map of Oyster Bay illuminated the screen, with a flashing red dot hovering over a secluded beach no more than a mile away.
“I’ve got her location.”
Chapter Sixty-Five
Emma stared blankly out Matt’s car window as they rolled along the coast road. Her hand trembled as she reached up to swipe the tears from under her eyes, fighting to stifle her sobs and not draw his attention. Her chest ached with worry for Adam. Hopefully, Jake would return and find him before it was too late. If he didn’t survive, she’d never forgive herself.
Soon, Matt slowed the car to a stop near a sandy lot. He got out and walked around to her side. Wordlessly, he grasped her wrist and yanked her out of the car hard enough that she stumbled. She struggled to keep up with him as he pulled her across the sand toward a wooded area.
“Where are we going?” she demanded when he still didn’t say anything.
“Relax. I need to think.”
The salty air stung her lungs as they made their way along a brush-filled path. The flimsy flip-flops he’d brought for her made her lose her footing repeatedly on the gravel. They ducked beneath branches and pushed through vines until they reached a clearing with a rocky outcrop and a bluff beyond it overlooking the crashing waves below.
“Sit.”
He shoved her down on a large boulder and released her wrist. The sun was setting, casting an eerie orange glow and creating shadows that tricked her eyes. She glanced around frantically, but there was no escape route. With the cliff falling vertically into the ocean behind her, the only way out was the way they’d just come.
Matt circled her slowly, like a wild animal contemplating its prey. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. His eyes softened, and in them she could still see the boy with whom she’d once played hide-and-seek in his backyard, the young man who’d protected her during her shy, lonely high school years, and the man who’d comforted her through so many difficult times once they became adults. “I had to tell you the truth, so you would finally give me a chance.”
A chance? The women he’d murdered hadn’t been given a chance. Anger melded with the fear already coursing through her at the thought of all the people whose lives he’d destroyed. How could this man—someone she’d loved and trusted so much for so long—be capable of such horrific acts?
How could her judgment have been so terribly wrong?
He stretched a hand toward her and she stilled. A cold shiver ran through her at the thought of allowing him to touch her, but she needed to placate him in order to increase her chances of survival.
She extended her trembling fingers to meet his, tentatively, still unsure it was the best plan. But with little hope of help being on the way yet, it was all she could think to do.
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you?” His voice was low and determined. “Since we were little kids, Em. It’s always been you. I love you. I have always loved you.”
“Matt,” she pleaded, “I don’t understand. There’s never been anything like that between us.”
He squatted before her, resting the hand holding the gun on his bent knee as he lifted his other hand to her cheek, dragging his calloused fingertips across her skin. “That’s not fair. There’s always been something between us.” His features settled in a grim expression. “I knew you needed some time after Justin. I understood that. But then, when I thought you were ready and we could finally be together, I found you on that damned dating website ready to screw whatever stranger came along. Do you have any idea how angry that made me?”
Angry enough to attack her outside her own apartment building.
His eyes bore into her with such intensity she could hardly catch her breath.
“I figured maybe I should just find someone else, once and for all. But it was no use. There is no one else for me, Em. I tried so hard, but those women just weren’t you. Some of them were great lays, but none of them were you.”
The eerie calm in his
voice sent a chill down her spine. She couldn’t think what to say to that.
“And then you hooked up with that damned cop. The more I proved to you Quinn couldn’t take care of you, the more you ran to him. The more you kept pushing me away.” Matt’s free hand landed on her arm again, squeezing until she feared he might snap the bone. “How is it so easy for you? What is it that makes you think you’re too good for me?”
“Matt, I never thought—”
“But not too good to go whoring around with the cop. You know that’s all you are to him, right? A whore.”
“That’s not true,” she cried out. She was more important to Jake than just a convenient plaything, more important than what this case could do for his career, more than just a witness to be kept alive. She knew that.
“What’s the matter, Em? Truth hurts?” Anger burned in his eyes. “Didn’t he prove it to you last night? He dragged you to that party to bait a killer.”
The irony of Matt’s comments stole her breath.
Yes, Jake had made mistakes, but he’d been at her side through all of this, paid a trusted colleague to make sure she was always protected when the NYPD would do nothing, brought her into his own home to keep her safe. And what had she done? She’d invited the killer into that same home.
What would happen now? If Matt killed her, he might go after Jake next, and there’d be no one left to warn him.
“Quinn’s a player, Em. I watched him after the accident. I had to keep tabs on him to see if he was on to me, and I saw him in action. I saw him go through so many women. I should have known he’d eventually make a move on you.”
Emma fought to make sense of it all. To see if Jake was on to him how? “What do you mean, you watched him? After what accident?”
“The accident.” Matt rose to his feet, waving the gun frantically in the air as if she should know what he was talking about. “Justin.”
Her jaw dropped as she pieced together what he was telling her. A light-headed sensation came over her with a vengeance. Justin’s death wasn’t an accident, at all.
“That was you?” Her voice was hardly loud enough for even her to hear.
“Yes, that was me. Jesus Christ, Em. You couldn’t have picked anyone more wrong for you. I couldn’t let you go through with that marriage. You should be thanking me for getting him out of the picture.” Matt paced a line in the sand, tension spiraling off him, then he came back to squat in front of her where she sat shaking. “We would’ve been so good together. But now it’s too late.” He lifted his rough hand to her cheek again, and this time she flinched at the contact. “I’m sure the cop is going to figure all of it out, if he hasn’t already.”
“Oh, Matt. What have you done?” she choked out.
He ran his palm down her neck to her shoulder. “I don’t know how this ends. I didn’t plan to have it turn out like this.” He slipped his hand around her waist and drew her up to stand, pulled her against him while his other hand held the gun against her cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you. I love you, Em.”
He attempted to put his mouth on hers, but she turned her head away with a barely stifled sob. “Matt, please don’t.”
“Don’t what, Em?” He gripped her shoulder and shook her violently. “Am I still not good enough?” He threw her back down on the rocks, grasped both her wrists with his free hand, and pinned them above her head. He forced one knee between her legs and ground his upper thigh into her groin. “Let me show you, Em,” he gritted out between clenched teeth. “Let me prove to you how good we could be.”
He smothered her mouth with his. She fought for breath, but the weight of his muscular torso wouldn’t allow room for her lungs to expand as he crushed her into the cold, rocky ground. He paused and looked down at her, panting through a haze of lust. “Why is it so hard to imagine us together?”
“Why?” Her own anger rose to the surface. She tried to push him off her, but she was no match for his strength. “Really, Matt? Why? You killed Justin! And all those poor women. Look what you’re doing to me right now!”
He released her and reared back as though he was shocked to hear her raise her voice to him. True, she’d never done it before. She’d never had a reason to.
She scrambled to her feet. “You think you love me?” Tears burned her eyes as she pushed on. “This isn’t love. You don’t love me at all.”
He glared at her for a long, silent moment before his features twisted with rage. “You fucking bitch.”
She heard the smack of his hand across her face before she felt it. The force of the blow threw off her balance, knocking her down with a thud as her head hit the rock beneath her. Shooting pain flared through her as the air burst from her lungs.
“Em?” he called through a shuddering breath. “No, Em! Shit! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She caught a last glimpse of his horrified expression as he reached for her face, but her vision blurred, and then, darkness.
Chapter Sixty-Six
Jake spotted Sommers’s car along the side of the road and parked the Tahoe next to it. The locater on his phone pinged an area nearby, toward the ocean. He jumped from the SUV with his gun drawn low and took a second to assess his best move. There were several paths leading into the dense brush of the woods.
Sergeant Perez appeared at his side, on his phone requesting assistance from the county’s K-9 unit. Two more patrol cars rolled in behind them, all coming in silent.
“Split up,” Jake ordered, directing the officers before taking the last path himself.
The air was thick with the brine of the sea. He’d spent a good chunk of his childhood along this part of the coast fishing with his dad and Kevin, but he hadn’t been in this spot for years. If memory served him, the path would lead to a clearing at the edge of a bluff.
The light was fading fast. The trail thickened with overgrowth as he made his way toward the water, guided by the sound of crashing waves in the distance. He reached the clearing in time to hear Sommers’s angry growl.
“You fucking bitch.”
Jake emerged from the brush just as Emma fell to the ground, smacking her head on the rocks while Sommers towered over her.
Jake’s arms shook with fury as he trained his gun on Sommers. Fierce determination settled deep in his chest. “Do not touch her,” he barked. “I will blow your goddamned head off if you so much as lay a finger on her.”
Sommers snapped around, aiming his gun at Jake. “Hello, Detective,” he said, his voice calm and measured, as if Jake’s sudden appearance did not surprise him. “Didn’t think you’d be here to join us so soon.”
Jake fought to remain focused, refusing to let his gaze drift to Emma where she lay motionless on the rocks. If he concentrated on her instead of Sommers, he’d lose whatever control he had of the situation. He’d faced off with armed men before, but never had the confrontation been so personal, so primal. Unfortunately, he was too far away to guarantee a clean shot, and if he missed, he might hit Emma.
The weight of the last few weeks sat heavy on his chest as he drew in a shallow breath. “Put the gun down.”
“I’ll put mine down when you put down yours.” Sommers let out an evil chuckle. “Maybe.”
Jake kept his aim steady. “What do you want, Matt? What can I do so this doesn’t all go south real fast?”
“I’d say it’s already pretty far south,” the bastard said with a snort. “What can you do? Did they teach you that at the police academy? Standoffs 101? This isn’t a fucking negotiation.” Sommers’s jaw clenched. “You wanna know what you can do? You can back off and get out of Emma’s life.”
“That’s not going to happen.” She might have already pushed Jake out of her life, but Sommers didn’t need to know that.
“No, I guess you’re right,” the psychopath said. “It’s not going to be that easy. So…what? You think she still
wants you? After what you did to her, using her as bait for a murderer?”
Jake swallowed the rage down hard. Had Sommers forgotten he was the murderer? “What Emma wants is none of your goddamned busin—”
“It is my business,” Sommers said, spitting out his words furiously, “because she belongs with me. It’s about time you accept that and move on.”
“Don’t you think she’d be with you by now if that was true?” Jake said.
Sommers’s grip on his weapon turned white-knuckle tight, but he hadn’t advanced on Jake, so there was still a chance he could be talked down. But if Jake didn’t end this soon and get Emma medical help, it might be too late. She still hadn’t moved.
“Maybe it’s time for you to move on.”
“That’s not going to happen, either,” Sommers said. “Go ahead. Keep pushing me. We both know I’m not afraid to use this thing. How about you? You ever kill anyone?”
Shit. This was not the way Jake wanted things to go. “I don’t want to kill you, Matt.”
“I didn’t ask what you want to do,” Sommers snapped, whatever restraint he’d had in his voice gone. “I asked if you’ve ever done it. Ever pulled the trigger and watched someone collapse and die? Ever held someone’s life in your hands and just squeezed it out of them?”
Jake’s stomach churned, knowing Sommers spoke from firsthand experience. He needed to keep him talking, keep stalling until the other officers caught up to them.
“No, I haven’t,” he said. “But I know you have. A few times. That’s not what Emma wants, and she’s not going to stick around waiting while you spend the rest of your life in prison.”
“I’m not going to prison,” Sommers shouted, his voice loud enough the other officers had to have heard him. His hands were shaking now, but somehow, he maintained his aim. “She is mine. And I’m not letting you or anyone else take her away from me. Not ever again.”
“This way!” one of the officers called from the wooded path.