SUCH A GOOD GIRL: An urgently timely gripping mystery with a heartbreaking twist (Eva Rae Thomas Mystery Book 9)

by Willow Rose

  I am. I hear you. I just don’t know what to say. I just can’t get the words out. But I do hear you, Joe. I’m just too sad to answer.

  He exhaled behind her, and she felt the weight of a hand land briefly on her shoulder before she heard the footsteps leave, and soon the front door slammed shut as they both left.

  Rachel laid still in the bed, the pillowcase below getting soaked. She wondered how long it was going to be like this. She had barely made it home that day when it started. She had fought just to be able to hold it back enough for her to make it back, and as soon as she parked in the garage, it had overwhelmed her. She stayed inside the car for half an hour after she had parked, simply crying.

  When it finally subsided slightly, she had dragged herself inside, crawled into bed, and not left it since. She was beginning to wonder if she ever would. For every hour that passed, the weaker she felt, and the sadness only grew in strength. What was this? What was going on with her? Would she ever be herself again?

  You have to pull yourself together. You have a family. You have people who count on you, who need you. Why can’t you just stop? You’re so weak, such a fool!

  Rachel took a deep breath and tried hard to lift her head from the pillow, but no matter how much she wanted this, it didn’t happen. She simply couldn’t move, and now the tears welled up in her eyes again. If only she knew why she was crying. If only she had an explanation, something to tell her family when they came back home. But she didn’t. All she could feel was this deep hopelessness, this sense that she wouldn’t be here tomorrow, that her life was over.

  And then she had a thought. She suddenly wondered if her family wouldn’t be better off without her. What if she ended it here and now? All it took was a jar of pills. She’d swallow them all and go to sleep forever.

  Suddenly, for some reason, it felt like a solution to all her problems.

  It was a way out.

  Chapter 19

  She felt safe—at least as close to safe as she could get. Kimmie had spent an entire week in what they called a safe house. And she had Tristan with her. That was the critical part, that they were together and that they were safe.

  Ever since she had told Eva Rae Thomas everything, she had been struck by this deep fear that she had somehow also put a mark on her own head. But so far, everything had remained calm, and she and Tristan felt like they were protected. They had two big guys with them inside the apartment, armed to their teeth. Both seemed like nice guys, but they mainly kept to themselves, insisting on remaining professional. When Kimmie asked them if they wanted to eat dinner with her and Tristan, they said no, and if she asked them if they wanted to play a board game or a card game, they politely refused as well. And Kimmie understood. Their job was to guard them and nothing else.

  But being locked up in a small space like this for an entire week with nothing to do but watch TV or play games was getting a little tiresome. Kimmie wasn’t allowed to have any contact with the world outside, so no cell phones, no iPad, or computer. She and Tristan were both completely cut off from the world outside. And it was driving her slightly insane. It wasn’t fun for Tristan either. How do you tell a teenager that he can’t be on his phone? That he couldn’t be in contact with any of his friends? It was like torture for a sixteen-year-old boy.

  “Can’t we go for a walk?” he asked. “I really need to go outside.”

  Kimmie shook her head. “Not yet. We can’t risk anyone recognizing you.”

  Tristan grumbled and threw himself on the couch. He turned on the TV and zapped through the channels till he found some ridiculous show that he could watch. Kimmie sighed and joined him. She wondered how long they’d have to live like this. She knew she had asked for it; she had asked to be protected, but still. This was too much. And they still hadn’t told her what would happen once she had testified in court. Would she be able to live her life again? Could she go back to normal? Or had she ruined everything? She knew she wouldn’t be able to work as a reporter again. That much was certain. Richard Wanton had friends everywhere, and no one defied him. Not even if he went to jail. But that was the price she was willing to pay as long as the guy got what he deserved.

  “I’m going to the bathroom,” Tristan said and got up.

  Kimmie watched him walk past her, then felt awful for him. She wasn’t certain he’d ever get to see his friends again. What if they had to start over somewhere else?

  It wasn’t fair to him.

  Kimmie sighed as she heard the bathroom door close, then looked toward the two big guards, Jimmy and Brad, who were sitting by the door. Brad closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again and blinked. Kimmie chuckled at this. It had to be the most boring job in the world, she thought. She almost felt sorry for them.

  That was when the lights went out in the entire apartment.

  Kimmie shrieked, shocked, then realized she was being silly. It was probably just a power outage that would be fixed soon. There was nothing to worry about.

  Not until she heard the door being kicked in and two rapid shots being fired.

  POP-POP

  That’s when she knew.

  She wasn’t in a safe house.

  She was in a death trap.

  Chapter 20

  I had Angel on my hip while making her bottle with the use of only one hand. I poured in water and then added the formula powder before shaking it. Angel was cooing on my hip. I loved the sounds she was beginning to make. It was so adorable. I was enjoying my time with her so much.

  I shook the bottle, then sat down in a chair and fed her.

  I looked at her little face, the chubby cheeks, and cute nose. Looking at her while she drank her bottle made me almost forget how many times I had to get up the night before. I was beginning to wonder if she’d ever sleep through the night. My mother kept telling me just to let her scream through the night as she had done with Sydney and me, but that was never my style. I simply couldn’t stand hearing my child cry and believed she needed me. So what if I didn’t get much sleep?

  The milk spilled down her cheek as she let go of the bottle again, and I pulled her up to burp her over my shoulder. Angel fussed a little, and I gave her the bottle again, and she emptied it. Her eyelids grew heavy, and I could tell she was fighting the urge to sleep. I took her upstairs, then put her in her bed, turned on the monitor, and left while Angel slowly dozed off.

  Then I walked downstairs and poured myself a cup of coffee. I grabbed my phone and was going through my texts when Christine, my fourteen-year-old, called me.

  “You’re in school,” I said, picking it up with a swift movement. “You don’t call me when you’re in school.”

  “I’m not feeling well,” Christine said. “Can you pick me up?”

  “What do you mean you’re not feeling well?” I asked suspiciously. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I have a stomach ache.”

  I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache approaching. “Again? You don’t sound sick, Christine. Are you sure you’re sick?”

  “Mom, I am not feeling well. Aren’t you listening?” Cristine snapped. “You never listen to me.”

  “Do you think you have a fever?” I asked, thinking she was making this up. Christine wasn’t very happy about school lately and had stayed home twice last week with a stomach ache. I had a feeling she was just trying to get out of school. I had done the same thing in middle school, so I knew the drill. Middle school was the worst, but it was something you just had to get through. I had tried to explain that to her, but apparently, it hadn’t sunk in.

  “No, but my stomach hurts.”

  I sighed and looked at the clock. Angel would sleep for another hour. At least I hoped so. I couldn’t leave her, and I didn’t want to wake her up either. I had just gotten her to fall asleep, and she’d end up crying the rest of the day if she didn’t get her nap.

  “You’ll have to wait. I just put Angel down. When she wakes up, I can pick you up, okay?”

  “What?” Chr
istine squealed. “You can’t be serious!”

  I exhaled. “It’s the best I can do. I can’t leave the baby. Don’t you think you can wait an hour?”

  “NO! I can’t wait an hour, Mom. My stomach really hurts!”

  I took in a deep breath to calm myself and not let her sense of drama get to me. It wasn’t like she was dying here, even if she wanted me to think so.

  “I understand that, but maybe you can walk home then? It’s not that far.”

  “What? Walk home? You can’t be serious? Don’t you understand what I am saying? I’m sick, Mom!”

  “I’m sorry, sweetie. It’s the best I can do right now. Maybe go to the clinic. Nurse Patricia can let you rest there.”

  She scoffed. “I’m not going to the clinic, Mom. I wanna go home. Can’t Grandma look after the baby?”

  “She’s in Orlando today, I’m afraid. It’ll take her an hour to get back. I’ll come as soon as I can.”

  “Why is everything about the baby? Why can’t it ever be about me?”

  “Christine, that’s not fair. You know I do the best I can.”

  “Yeah, right,” she said. “Thanks for nothing.”

  Then, she hung up. I looked at the display, then shook my head at her. She was such a teenager these days. Everything was so dramatic. I just couldn’t let it get to me. I had been through the same with Olivia when she was that age. It was going to get better. It would pass. She was going to become my sweet girl again one of these days.

  Right?

  I put the phone down and grabbed my coffee, enjoying the peace and quiet. I knew it wouldn’t last long. Having little ones and teenagers in the house at the same time wasn’t exactly easy. All my attention was on the little one, and everyone else felt left out constantly. Even Alex, who was eight now, was beginning to show jealousy toward Angel. He was struggling with not being the youngest and cutest anymore.

  I exhaled and drank more coffee when my phone vibrated on the counter. Thinking it was Christine again, I picked it up, feeling annoyed, but then I realized it wasn’t her number on the display.

  It was Isabella Horne.

  “Now, what?” I asked.

  “I have some bad news, I’m afraid.”

  “It usually is when you call. What’s going on?”

  She sighed. “There was an attack on the safe house where we kept Kimmie and her son.”

  I almost dropped my coffee cup out of my hand. “An attack…what…what does that mean?”

  Silence followed.

  “We lost her; we lost Kimmie, our star witness.”

  Chapter 21

  She had to think fast, and much to her surprise, that’s exactly what she did. Kimmie jumped at the sound of the shots being fired, then ran for the bathroom, thinking only of protecting her son.

  She used her shoulder to knock open the door, then hurried inside, sliding sideways on the slippery floor, panic erupting inside her. Sparse light from the moon outside came in from the window in the bathroom, and she could see a shape she assumed had to be Tristan lying on the floor.

  “Mom?” he shrieked. “What’s happening?”

  Kimmie heard turmoil from the living room and guessed whoever had fired those shots was coming for them. She had to move quickly.

  Kimmie glanced up toward the window, then crawled up on top of the toilet to reach for it. She could hear footsteps as they strode across the wooden floors in the living room. Kimmie struggled to breathe properly as she pushed away the plastic plant placed on the sill, found the handle, and managed to push the window open. She glanced out and saw the fire escape right below.

  “Come,” she whispered to Tristan and jumped down. “Hurry.”

  Tristan rose to his feet. He stood on the toilet to reach the window, then slid through it. Kimmie watched him go through, heart pounding in her chest when she heard movement close to the door leading to the bathroom. She gasped and turned to look. She couldn’t see anything in the darkness but still sensed someone was there. Heart throbbing in her throat, she crawled up on the toilet, her hand slipping, so she almost fell. A noise at the doorway made her gasp and look. As she did, the light from the window fell on a shadow, a big shadow, moving closer and on the gun that was pointed at her.

  Move, Kimmie! Don’t just stand there!

  She reached up and grabbed the windowsill, then got herself pulled up. She groaned and grumbled as she fought to push her head out the window.

  “Mom!”

  Tristan stood below her on the fire escape, looking up concerned. He reached up his arms to grab her and help her through. But as he did, Kimmie felt a cold, gloved hand grab her leg. The hand was strong and clenched down hard. Panic rushed through Kimmie, and she stared at her son below her.

  “Tristan!”

  The grip on her calf tightened, and she felt a jerk so strong and forceful, she couldn’t fight it. She was pulled back inside.

  “MO-O-O-OM?”

  Her son’s scream rang through the air as she disappeared back into the bathroom, slamming her head on the windowsill on the way and then on the top of the toilet. Kimmie screamed in pain and fear, holding up her hands to protect her face as she was being dragged back onto the floor, then let go.

  She looked up to see the face of her attacker but could only see the shape of it. The roughness and the strength told her it was probably a man.

  “Please,” she said as the light hit the gun and she saw it was pointed at her, and she imagined the finger moving on the trigger.

  “Please. I have a son who needs me.”

  Chapter 22

  “Is she…is she…?”

  I was holding the phone in my hand while my entire body shook. So many thoughts rushed through my mind in this second; most of them had to do with Kimmie and how she had begged me to protect her.

  And then I refused.

  “We found the bodies of the two guards inside the apartment,” Isabella said. “But we never found Kimmie or Tristan. The window in the bathroom was left open, and the fire escape was right below. There was blood on the floor and a cracked pot with a plastic plant in it on the tiles—smashed. The pieces had blood stains on them, and we’re having it analyzed.

  I lifted my eyebrows. “You’re telling me they escaped?”

  “That’s what we don’t know,” Isabella said. “We have no idea where she might be. No matter what happened to her, chances are she won’t take the witness stand after this. We lost her.”

  “But at least she’s most likely alive,” I said, feeling a rush of adrenaline go through my body, then being replaced with great relief. I sat down on one of my kitchen chairs, holding my forehead, calming myself by repeating this information over and over again in my mind.

  They didn’t find her body. That means she’s probably alive. And Tristan too.

  “Could she have been kidnapped?” I asked.

  “We have no way of knowing what happened,” she said. “But it’s possible.”

  “Were there any surveillance cameras in the building or nearby?” I asked.

  “We’re looking into that now. We had cameras outside the apartment and down by the building entrance, surveilling the front doors, but they are both gone.”

  “Really? But then you should have recordings on the hard drive of the person that took them down at least?”

  Isabella sighed. “Unfortunately, it’s not there, no.”

  “How is that possible?”

  Isabella went quiet, and I figured she had asked herself that very question a lot of times too.

  “What are you doing now?” I continued.

  “Trying to find Kimmie and her son,” she said. “We have put out a search, but we’re trying to keep it low key, so the media doesn’t find out we lost our only witness. But we have to find Kimmie somehow. We need her if we’re going to take down Richard Wanton. We can’t do it without her testimony. Anyway, I just figured I should tell you. You’re somewhat invested in this case and in Kimmie as well. And then, well…of course
, in case she contacts you, please let me know, okay?”

  I promised her, then hung up, heart aching in my chest. I stared out into the street, wondering what happened to Kimmie, where she was now, and whether she was safe. I felt awful for refusing to protect her, for not being there when she needed me, even though I hated her guts. She had so specifically requested me to help her, and then I had said no. It didn’t make me feel good. To be honest, I hadn’t really believed she was in danger. I should have known that a guy like Wanton would do anything to get rid of her. But how he had gotten to her was beyond my comprehension.

  As I thought about this, I suddenly spotted my ex Matt’s police cruiser as it drove up in my street and parked in my driveway. I wondered for a few seconds if he was coming to pick up Angel but then remembered he wasn’t supposed to have her till Friday.

  I stared at the cruiser as the door opened, and Christine stepped out, slamming the door, then rushing toward the house. I almost dropped the phone in my hand, then hurried to the front door as she came through.

  “What on earth do you think you’re doing?” I asked as her face poked inside. She looked at me, startled. “You’re involving Matt now?”

  She shrugged. “He’s still on the list of people who can pick me up at school. And you weren’t coming.”

  I placed my hands on my hips. “Christine. Matt is no longer my boyfriend. He doesn’t live with us anymore. You can’t just call him and have him pick you up.”

  She looked up at me. “Why not?”

  “Are you even sick?”

  “I told you. My stomach hurts.”

  “I don’t think that’s enough for you to leave school early. You’re getting too many absences lately. You’ll get in trouble.”

  She shrugged. “So what? It’s not like I’m learning anything useful anyway.”

  I gave her a look as she hurried past me and up the stairs. I walked outside to Matt, who was still in the driveway, rolling his window down when seeing me.