by S. E. Rose
Dean pauses and looks over at me. “Who knows about your half brother?” he asks.
I frown. “Me, my mom, the band, and Emma, why?”
“Who knows about the notes?”
“The sticky notes?” I confirm.
He nods. I can almost picture the cogs turning in his mind. He’s got a theory and I want to know what it is, now.
“Me, my mom, the band, and Emma…and you guys and the police.”
“What if…there are two people…” He trails off, pressing his lips together as he contemplates theories in his head.
“Just fucking say what you are thinking,” I urge because I’m exasperated, scared, and fucking pissed off that both my brother and girlfriend could up and vanish while being under a protective detail.
“I don’t know yet. It could be two people working together. It could be one person with an accomplice. It could be completely unrelated. It could be a copycat. I don’t know.”
I process all his words. He’s right. We’ve been spending all this time focused on the possibility of one person. We’ve never thought about two people. Should we have? Have we wasted all this money on security and working with the police for nothing?
Dean stops outside the restaurant, and we hop out of the car. I run up to the door, but a cop stops me. “Sir, you can’t go inside.”
Dean walks up to him, flashes him some sort of credentials, and the man steps to the side, allowing us to enter the restaurant. I’m unprepared for the chaos that surrounds me upon entering the dining area. There are police everywhere, some talking to what appears to be waitstaff and chefs. Others are using powder to look for fingerprints in the hallway beyond the tables. As I survey my surroundings, a deep foreboding washes over me. This is different than the other times. This isn’t a warning or vandalism, this is a full-blown crime scene. An officer holds a bag up to Dean. I recognize the item immediately. Emma’s phone.
I grab the bag. The officer is about to say something, but Dean holds up a hand.
I flip the bag over, studying the phone’s screen. As I press it, the screen lights up, revealing missed calls from Carl. A text message from Kate. And a news alert, for a missing woman and man. The irony that the news notification of her disappearance is on her phone fails to amuse me. I hand Dean the phone, not wanting to look at it a moment longer because it is evidence that something has happened to the woman I love.
Chapter Thirty
Emma
I wake to the sound of an engine. My mouth feels dry, and my head is killing me. I open my eyes, but I don’t see anything. I’m completely disoriented. I attempt to feel for my surroundings when I realize that my hands are tied together. I go to move my feet. They are tied together, too. Shit. I start to panic. I go to call out and find that my mouth is taped shut.
My panic increases with each breath. I try to remember the teacher in my self-defense class in college. What did he say? Breathe. I take a few deep breaths through my nose. Then I am tossed up and immediately hit something.
I am in a car, the trunk of a car. But whose car? And where are we going? Oh, God! The stalker!
Does he have Jason? How long have I been unconscious? I start kicking with both legs, hoping I can jostle something loose. Don’t cars have some sort of safety latch back here? Or maybe I can kick the lights out? I read something about that once.
I start kicking and rolling around as I kick, hoping to hit something, anything.
I feel like I’m doing this for a long time when the car comes to a stop. I don’t hear anything around me and that scares me. There is no buzz of cars passing us on a big freeway. There is no sound of nearby engines. There are no sounds at all.
I hear the crunch of feet on gravel. My body begins to tremble as the footsteps get closer to me. I search around me for anything to use as a weapon, but I come up empty-handed.
The trunk pops open, and I’m surprised by the darkness. How long was I out? What time is it?
“You can stop kicking things, it won’t help,” a familiar voice says. Chills like I’ve never experienced in my life course through my body.
Jason Winters.
I squint and slowly his body comes into focus.
“I’ll take this tape off if you promise not to scream,” he says, his voice is detached, cold, and makes me shiver even harder.
I nod, and he rips the tape off, taking some skin with it. My eyes water as I bite my dry lip trying not to cry out from the pain. I attempt to look around, but it’s hard to see in the vast darkness surrounding us. Only the moonlight through the clouds illuminates the trees around us.
“What’s going on?” I manage as I try to swallow, my throat constricting as I do. I briefly close my eyes because focusing is making my head hurt more than it was in the darkness of the trunk.
“You all really are stupid, aren’t you?” he says with a hollow laugh that sends shivers down my spine.
I open my eyes and blink them, unsure of my next move. Do I play stupid? My mind is so blank right now, I can’t even think about anything but how to answer his rhetorical question.
“I must have gotten every ounce of intelligence our father had,” he scoffs.
I look up at him in total confusion. “Why are you doing this?” I ask the obvious question. I feel like the victim in some bad horror movie.
He rests his hands on the lid of the trunk, leaning over me. “Because he had it all. Our dad never gave a fuck about me. He fucking paid my mom off to go away. I didn’t know who he was until Mom died and I found things in a journal. Gran always said my dad was a bad man, but I knew he was when I read her diary. He never loved her or me. They had to be punished for what they did to us. If he had stayed with us, Mom could have gotten better treatment and she would still be alive.”
His words take a tone of pure evil, and I’m suddenly very aware that I may not make it out of this situation alive. Keep him talking, the words resonate in my mind. If he’s talking, he can’t be killing me.
“But why now?” I ask, trying to sound like I’m clueless.
He growls as he leans in and a sliver of moonlight gleams across his eyes, making them appear darker than normal.
He laughs then, a laugh of a villain, a laugh of a person who's lost all sanity. “Now? That’s rich. You think I’m just doing something now?” He changes his voice to sound like a kid. “Oh, poor me. What? I have a brother? Yay! I’m so lucky.” He pounds his fist on the car. “You think I just found out I had a brother! You are as dumb as your pathetic boyfriend.”
“Why didn’t you tell him you knew?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
He leans in again toward me. “’Cause I’m not a fucking idiot, Emma. You don’t show the opponent your cards, do you? I’m just fucking lucky that my stupid, arrogant brother had a stalker. It was easy to replicate the little sticky notes, even the handwriting. And then sending false death threats over the past few months, making it look like another stalker. I’ve had his security team and the cops on a wild goose chase for weeks now. When I knew he found me, I decided to take my plan to the next level. I had been biding my time, waiting for that moment, and then he came looking for me. It was better than I could have planned. I knew it was my time to take action, to finish what I started all those years ago. But I had to outsource that last ploy to keep him away while I got you. You didn’t even guess the note and text was from me. I thought maybe you’d say something to him; throw him off the track some more. But it doesn’t matter, they may figure it all out sooner rather than later, but it’ll be too late by then. Because I will take him down just like his father.”
My mind tries to process everything he has just told me. “What do you mean like his father?”
“You think it was an accident that killed Ken Daniels? Yeah, you’d believe that, wouldn’t you? Because I’m that fucking good. Three years of military service taught me a lot about how to dismantle cars. I could put an engine together out in the desert and then take it back apart. One little screw is
loose and the whole car stops working. That’s all it takes, just a little tweak. Of course, I had to bury all my records, so the cops wouldn’t consider me a suspect with that little issue at Blythe’s place. But the military also taught me about computers and how to hide files. That security firm would figure it out eventually, so I had to make my move sooner rather than later.”
I swallow, but my mouth is so dry that I can’t even manage to do that. “What do you get out of this?” I ask, trying to keep him talking as long as possible.
He sits down on the bumper. “I’ll tell you what I get. I get revenge,” he starts before he launches into mindless babble about his rough childhood. I silently pray to the universe that someone will find us, even though I have no clue as to where we are.
Chapter Thirty-One
Grady
I’m sitting in the LA offices of our security firm. There is a wall of screens in front of me. It’s been two hours since Carl last saw Jason and Emma. The security firm and the LAPD are going through every possible video feed they can, trying to find them. So far, we’ve found that a black sedan with tinted windows left the parking lot shortly after Emma went to the bathroom. The camera in the back of the restaurant didn’t show the whole parking lot and if someone knew it was there, they could easily avoid being seen on it.
We’ve been tracking the license plate on some sort of software, catching glimpses of the car on other video feeds. It was last spotted on I-5, heading north.
“I got it,” some young guy says as he runs into the room.
Dean rips a piece of paper from his hands. “Fuck, it turned off onto a residential road near Lake Isabella. Looks like there’s just one cabin back there.”
I grab the paper and memorize the address. “I’m going,” I say to Dean, not even thinking as I run to my car, hoping my engine work amounts to a fast-driving car.
“Fuck no, you aren’t,” Dean says as he jogs after me.
“You can’t stop me,” I seethe.
“You don’t even know what you’re up against.”
I hop in my car that I had picked up after we left the restaurant. “I don’t. But I’m about to find out. Send backup to that cabin,” I command like some badass that I’m not.
Dean pounds his fist on the hood of my car and curses as I pull out of the parking spot and head toward Lake Isabella. The LA traffic is light because of the time of day, and as soon as I clear the little bit of congestion around the city, my body immediately channels everything I ever learned about driving. I’m going to get them back. I put the address into my GPS and then downshift.
My car whines as I fly up the interstate. I glance down and see that I’m pushing six and a half RPMs. I know that my car can do it, but I also know that at this speed, one wrong move means I’m dead or someone else is. My brain tells me to slow down, to not risk lives, but I’m beyond the point of rational decision-making.
Visions of my father’s crash dance across my mind as I watch the dark road. I take the exit for Lake Isabella and pray to God that I’m not too late. The feel of the car under my touch is so familiar to me. It’s comforting, like coming home. I can feel the throttle as I shift. The roar of the engine. The feel of the force as I increase my speed. I can do this. I have to do this.
As I get closer to the lake, I check the time. I’ve managed to make it here in a little over an hour versus the normal drive time of almost three hours. I thank the gods that I wasn’t pulled over, although police would be helpful at this moment. I turn onto a dark gravel road, suddenly wishing I had backup. My GPS tells me to stay straight, but when I come to a small trail on my right, I see fresh tire tracks. I turn onto it and dim my headlights as I slowly follow the path.
Emma
So many things go through my head as Jason rattles on, I’m wondering what we are doing here. I swear I heard sirens a while ago but was too afraid to say anything. As I take in our surroundings, I can tell we’re in the woods on a small trail of some kind. Are we hiding here? Are we waiting for something?
“He’ll be here soon,” Jason says, breaking me from my thoughts.
I glance up at him as he leans over me. “We’ll need to move you.” He no sooner finishes the sentence when he reaches in and picks me up, grunting as he tosses me over his shoulder. I squirm the best I can.
“You’ll want to stay still and quiet, Emma,” he says in his sinister voice as he reaches into a pocket and pulls out an object. He holds it out for me to see, and I shudder as the knife’s metal reflects the moonlight before another cloud passes overhead, leaving us in darkness once more.
He walks over to some brush and tosses me down. “Can’t have you making yourself known, now can we?” he says as he pulls out a roll of tape from his jacket pocket and places it over my mouth. My eyes go wide as he lets me see the knife.
He pulls his phone out and looks at it. It’s some app, and I can see a map with a dot on it.
“My dear brother is very close. Too bad he’s going to kill his girlfriend and then himself. Such a shame,” he states as he stands and walks back to the car. I have no idea what he plans to do. I’m regretting not listening more closely to him, not asking about his plans. I was afraid to know but now not knowing feels even worse.
He stands by his car door, and after a few minutes, I can see lights through the woods. Then I can hear the sound of the car as it approaches. It’s muffled slightly by a waterfall nearby, but I know it’s Grady. My heart aches knowing he came for me. I try to make noise, but I doubt he can hear me as I’m now a good one hundred feet away.
Grady’s car comes to a stop, and he pops the door open. I can just barely see him from where I lie on the ground.
“Thank God! Are you OK?” he calls out to his brother. My whole body is electrified with fear and rage. I scream behind the tape covering my mouth. I see Grady scan the woods, but he goes back to looking at his brother.
“Where’s Emma? Are you OK?” His voice is laced with fear and concern as he looks around. I know he’s looking for me. Tears trickle down my cheeks as I continue to yell.
“They have her. They took off that way and said if I didn’t wait here, they’d kill her,” Jason lies. “But it’s been about fifteen minutes. I’m scared, but I was just about to get in the car and follow them.”
His explanation is pathetic and I’m hoping Grady will see it for what it is, a ploy to get him to follow his psychopath brother.
“What? Which way?” he asks, again looking around frantically.
“No!” I scream in my head to no avail. I can barely make him out now through the tears in my eyes. I feel around for anything I can find to make noise. I grab a stick and bang it against the ground, but the sound is muffled by the crunch of Grady’s feet on the pebbles of the trail and the rushing water nearby. I kick my legs and curse because in making noise, I’ve missed what Grady has said as he gets in his car as does Jason. The two take off at top speed, my screams are guttural as I sob and kick at the ground. I’ve lost him. I’ve lost it all, and when Jason inevitably comes back, I’ll lose my life, too.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Grady
Something doesn’t seem right, but my adrenaline is now so revved that I can hardly think as I fly through the woods on a small trail right behind Jason. There’s a sharp curve up ahead. I slow down, not sure of the direction of the road. I see Jason’s car slow as well. I swear I hear something else, but I stay focused on the road. As I turn the car, I can make out a clearing in the path ahead. Jason’s car barrels along. I follow him, downshifting as I approach the clearing. His car doesn’t slow. It barrels toward the opening, and as I approach it, I watch in absolute horror as it disappears in front of me. I slam on my brakes, the car fishtailing as I jerk the wheel to the left. My heart thunders in my chest as the car slides closer and closer to what I now can tell is a cliffy ledge. I hear a monstrous explosion and see smoke as my car comes to a halt with one tire dangerously close to the edge of the cliff.
Throwing up
the emergency parking brake, I leap out of my car and run to the edge of the cliff. In the darkness, with the clouds now covering the moonlight, all I can see is a fire at the bottom of the cliff. I fall to my knees overcome with emotions for a half brother that I barely knew. All the anxiety of the stalker and the fear of what was to come next melts away into despair at my loss. I let myself feel the pain for a brief moment before I wipe the tears from my face and stand up, looking around at the empty forest.
Emma. I run back to my car and drive to where I first saw Jason. Did I miss something?
I get out of the car and look around in complete and utter confusion. I’m about to get in my car and head to the house to meet the police that are surely waiting there already when I hear rustling in the woods nearby. A tapping sound like a branch on a tree, only it’s methodic, like a song, not like an animal stepping on a twig.
I grab a flashlight from my car and shine it into the woods. I see nothing and start to lower the light when a flash of color stops me. I raise the light a little and shine it to the left and gasp. Emma is lying on the ground. Tears streaming down her face, tape over her mouth, her hands and feet bound. She’s trying to scream at me. I go to run toward her when an arm reaches around my waist.