Belinda Blake and the Birds of a Feather

by Heather Day Gilbert

  “Yes. She didn’t even try to swim to the surface, she was so out of it. After she drowned, I stepped on her phone and dropped it into the water. I didn’t really have to, because I used a burner phone just to be on the safe side, but I figured it would slow the investigation down. See, I’m not stupid.”

  Evidently not. Ella was altogether too clever for her own good. And too vicious.

  She still held the revolver in a firm grip, so there’d be no taking her off guard. My only option was to continue to distract her with questions.

  “And Tori? How did you manage that? Did you bring her to Peter’s in a taxi or something?”

  She shook her head. “Tori was more difficult at first, but once I realized her weakness was Peter Bear, everything fell into place. I called her on the burner and told her I needed a ride over to Peter’s, and that I wanted to discuss something with both of them. She didn’t agree right away, so I told her I needed to talk about Claire’s death. I could tell she was scared—she was probably worried I was going to accuse her precious Peter—so she said she’d take me over. I told her I’d call when Peter said we could meet.” She gave a sly grin. “But instead, I asked someone from school who worked at the tractor supply store to tell me when Peter came in. The moment he texted that Peter was in the store, I called Tori and she picked me up in that junk heap she drove.”

  “And she took you right over…to her doom,” I said morbidly.

  Ella smiled. “Aren’t you just the dark little rain cloud? But I suppose I shouldn’t have expected you to see the perfection of my retribution. You’re always against killers, no matter how just their cause, aren’t you, Belinda Blake?” She leaned in toward my face. “What’s your shrink sister say about that?”

  I startled. Ella knew Katrina was a psychologist. What else had she found out about me?

  She sat down, gun still aimed at my chest. “Yeah, I know a lot about you. I like to do my research before I put someone on my hit list.” She chuckled.

  Surely this whole situation was unreal and I wasn’t listening to a thirteen-year-old girl talk about a hit list in all seriousness. I remembered Katrina saying something once about how female serial killers tended to get away with their crimes longer, because they’re not immediately suspected.

  If Ella wasn’t stopped now, she might continue killing with no repercussions. There wasn’t a single person who would suspect her.

  As I stayed silent, she continued. “I dressed up in that cape and threw the pumpkin at your parents’ house, if that’s what you’re wondering about. I threw one at some other houses and at my parents’ house today, to throw you off.”

  “You knew I’d try to protect you,” I said.

  “You thought I reminded you of yourself—a socially awkward teen, right? But I guess now you see just how different we are.”

  “I guess so. But were you the one at the church, too?”

  She jutted out her chin, and I saw the faintest resemblance to her mom’s strong jawline. Tracy would be crushed to discover who her youngest daughter really was.

  “Yeah. After Mom and Adrian took off this morning, I decided to skip school. So I was here when you picked up the macaroni salad from the fridge. You didn’t hear me, did you? I’m really good at hiding. Anyway, I stowed away in your car trunk—it’s a little trick I picked up online. There’s a release lever inside.”

  She stretched her long legs. “Once you were in the church basement, I got out and locked you down there with my mom’s key. I wanted to buy myself a little time, because I’d made a decision that you were too dangerous to me. You were actually the only one who was dangerous to me. Everyone else was buying the Peter Bear-as-murderer story.”

  She suddenly stood up. “Okay, enough talking. Get up. We’re going out into the woods—we’re not far from the train tracks, you know?”

  I felt sick to see the jubilant look on her face.

  “I’ll make it look like Peter did it,” she added.

  I grasped at my slight opening to create doubt. “They might have already booked Peter. I’m betting that by now, they’ve linked the paint chips from Jackson’s pants to Peter’s old car.”

  She hesitated, but only for a moment. Motioning me to go out the door, she said, “If they have, I’ll find another fall guy.”

  “Like your brother?” I asked, taking slow steps. Maybe Tracy and Adrian would return soon.

  “Hurry up,” she said, sensing my motivation. “Head for the woods. And no, of course I wouldn’t frame Adrian. I’m basically acting as the long arm of justice for him and for Claire. I lost two of my siblings because of the people in that literature club. I had to wipe those original club members off the face of the earth.”

  “There’s no one left now,” I pointed out.

  “There’s the professor,” she countered. “He was involved with my sister. I’m betting you even suspected him along the way, didn’t you? He might work.”

  There was no way to argue with the girl’s warped reasoning. I stumbled over a dead log on the edge of the woods and tried to distract her again.

  “Tori was killed in the horse barn. Why’d she go in there if Peter wasn’t home?”

  “Because I went to the barn and pretended to check for him. When I got out there, I put on gloves and set up a small stepladder behind the stall. I took the crowbar I’d lifted from the hardware store from my purse. Then I shouted to Tori that I’d found Peter, so she should come on over and join us. When she came into the barn, I called her over to that stall, then I jumped up and hit her. Once I was sure she was dead, I took her keys and drove her car back to her house, so it would look like Peter had brought her over.”

  My queasiness increased. Had Tori had a moment of horror when she recognized that Ella was about to kill her? Or had it happened so fast, she hadn’t been able to process what was going on? Either way, the fact that Ella had the malice to smash someone directly in the face with a crowbar made Tori’s murder one of the most ruthless crimes I’d ever heard of.

  And now that very murderer was standing right behind me, ready to shoot me into oblivion.

  23

  I stopped walking, unwilling to give up so easily. “You don’t want to do this, Ella.”

  The cold gun barrel nudged my back as Ella said, “You’re wrong. I really do want to kill you. You’re the only one who will ever know what really happened.”

  I took another step, but a car came up the driveway and slowed to a stop behind my Volvo. Ella jerked around to see who it was.

  Adrian got out first and walked toward my car.

  “He can’t see me like this,” Ella said. “Stay here until I’m out of sight or I’ll shoot you.” She bolted into the woods.

  I didn’t wait. Instead, I raced toward Adrian and Tracy, who had also stepped out of the car. “You need to call the cops,” I said breathlessly. “Ella’s the one who killed everyone. She had a gun and was about to shoot me, but she ran off when you drove up.”

  Tracy started shaking her head, as if I was the one who’d lost my marbles. “No, no. Not my Ella.”

  I wanted to suggest that if she had kept a closer eye on her Ella, things might not have progressed so far, but I held my tongue. Adrian hesitated, but he jumped into action, pulling out his phone.

  I was about to get into Bluebell to try and track down Ella when Adrian walked over to me. His hand covered the phone. “They’re asking where she is now,” he said.

  “I don’t know. She ran straight across your woods, so they’ll want to check wherever that comes out.”

  “There are a few houses that way,” he said. “Are you going to look for her? I’ll go with you.” Without waiting for my permission, he slid into my passenger’s seat and returned to the phone call, telling the police the route Ella might have taken.

  I glanced back to see if Tracy wanted to join us, but she had slump
ed back into her car seat. There was no time to try to convince her I was right, so I turned Bluebell around and we drove past her.

  Adrian hung up, growing quiet for a moment. Then he said, “I kind of wondered about Ella. There was a day when I thought she might’ve read some of the journal I’d kept in the clinic. The shoebox where I’d hid it wasn’t totally closed, and Ella had been the only one at home.”

  I could tell he was about to blame himself. Catching sight of an upcoming side road, I gestured toward it. “Is this the road that runs along your woods?”

  “Yes,” he said. “There are three houses down here.”

  I jerked the wheel to the right, catching the turn at just the last minute. Giving Bluebell a burst of gas, I bumped along the dirt road that was full of potholes.

  “It’s not your fault,” I said. “No one would’ve guessed a teenager was capable of all those murders.”

  “She was so upset with me. She said I’d abandoned her after Claire died.” He gave a gasping sob. “I did! I did abandon her!”

  I couldn’t handle one of Adrian’s emotional breakdowns right now, although I felt in some way, it might be healing for him to face just how severely Claire’s death had affected him.

  “Focus, okay? We need to look for Ella and find her.”

  “But you said she has a gun.” He took one of my tissues and blew his nose.

  “We have a car.”

  “What are you saying? You’re going to run over my sister?”

  Since I’d listened to Ella casually admitting how she’d carried out such brutal murders, it wasn’t looking like my worst option. But, unlike her, I did still have my humanity. “No, but we can outrun her in the car if we need to. The key is to let police know exactly where she is.”

  Speaking of the police, a state trooper car whizzed past me. They weren’t messing around.

  A thought hit me. “Ella knows how to drive,” I said.

  Adrian gave a slow nod. “Yeah, Dad spent his weekends teaching her to drive when I refused to try. What of it?”

  “She’s stolen cars before in order to do what she wanted. What if she took someone’s car up this road?”

  He considered for a minute. “Old Lady Riley lives up here. She’s housebound but she has an old car she always keeps parked in the driveway so people will know someone’s home.”

  “Which house is it?”

  “The green one,” he said, pointing to the house just beyond where the police car had stopped.

  There was no car in the driveway.

  “Call the cops and tell them to be looking for that car,” I said, making a U-turn in the road. I needed to think about where Ella would’ve gone next.

  Peter Bear’s place instantly sprang to mind. Ella had killed all the other club members, but what if she’d decided to finish the job before she was caught—especially since she had a gun in hand?

  “And tell them we’re going to check on Peter Bear,” I added. We could probably get there faster than the cops if they were looking elsewhere for Ella.

  As I whizzed down the road, I wished I could have Adrian call my mom or Jonas to let them know I was okay, but he was still on the phone. I supposed I’d be able to see them soon enough.

  If I didn’t get shot first.

  * * * *

  As we approached Peter’s log cabin, we could see his blue truck parked in the driveway, but no other cars were in sight. I knew that didn’t mean anything when we were dealing with the clever Ella, though. She might’ve hidden the stolen car behind the horse barn, for all we knew.

  I pulled to a quick stop and we jumped out, racing up the stairs to Peter’s front door. I pulled the rope on the bell, and we waited what seemed like forever. I wished I’d had time to pick up some kind of makeshift weapon before we came.

  In a shockingly brave move, Adrian nudged me aside and stepped in front of me. “She wouldn’t shoot me,” he whispered.

  I wished I could be sure of that.

  Adrian rang the bell again, and this time someone flung open the door. I felt like dashing for cover but forced myself to stand still behind Adrian.

  Peter Bear stood in front of us in a black bathrobe, toweling off his long hair. “What’s this all about?” he demanded.

  Adrian seemed at a loss for words, so I jumped in. “We found out the murderer is Adrian’s sister, Ella. She has a gun and she might be coming to your place right now.”

  Peter raised an eyebrow. “Is this some kind of prank? You’re talking about Ella van Dusen? She’s only a kid.”

  Adrian cleared his throat and found his voice. “No, sir,” he said. “My sister has admitted to murdering Jackson, Rosalee, and Tori. We’re dead serious. Do you mind if we look around your property for her?”

  Peter finally seemed convinced. “Okay. Let me throw some jeans on and get my gun.”

  Adrian let out a groan as Peter went into the house. “This can’t turn into a shootout.”

  “I know you don’t want your sister to get hurt, Adrian. No one does. But if she comes out, guns blazing, someone’s going to have to stop her.”

  He gave a brief nod and Peter rejoined us, carrying a large pistol. “Let’s go,” he said, leading the way toward the horse barn.

  Sticking together, we worked our way down the length of the stalls, but they were all empty. My stomach lurched as I saw a stepladder neatly folded near the front of the barn. If Ella hadn’t told me about it, no one would’ve ever known it was used to commit a premeditated murder.

  But I knew. And as Ella had noted herself, I was no friend to murderers.

  After checking over the closest part of the surrounding pastures, we concluded our search. The police had pulled up, so Adrian and Peter walked over to talk to them.

  Driven by the conviction that Ella wouldn’t have given up so easily, I headed back over to Bluebell. I knew the police would eventually need my statement, but right now, someone needed to find Ella before she did something desperate.

  I pulled out without giving anyone an explanation. I tried to think like Ella, although it was nearly impossible. She was a girl who was fueled by the need for vengeance. She had assumed she’d get away with her crimes and was startled when her mother had come home with Adrian. She had run for it and stolen a neighbor’s car…to do what?

  Maybe she’d bought my story that they might have already booked Peter. So who would she target next?

  Professor Baruch, that’s who. She’d mentioned that she was thinking of pinning her crimes on him. I turned around in the middle of the road and headed straight for the community college, hoping I wouldn’t get there too late.

  24

  Adrian called as I was driving, so I put him on speakerphone. I told him my suspicions and that I was heading for the college. He spoke to a police officer, who said they’d notify the security guards and try to get through to the professor.

  I parked illegally in a handicapped spot and raced into the teachers’ annex building. After taking the elevator to the third floor, I ran down to the professor’s office, but it was locked. I banged on the door, but the lights were off and it was quiet. Either Ella had already shot him and was lying low inside, or she’d figured out he was elsewhere on campus and she was trying to track him down—maybe in a classroom. My heart leapt to my throat as I imagined a classroom shooter situation. I was completely unarmed and unprepared to confront anything like that.

  Thankfully, the professor had posted a class schedule on the wall by his door. I ran my finger down it and found that he was currently in Room 220 of the alumni building, teaching Medieval Literature. I decided to hunt down a security guard and direct him that way.

  I had just gotten to the first floor when my cell phone rang. The caller ID said it was my mom. Jonas had likely called her when I didn’t show up. I knew she’d be worried, so I picked up as I sped down the side
walk.

  “Mom, I have a lot going on right now, and I know Jonas is probably looking for me, but please tell him I’m okay. I just have something I need to do.”

  “No worries. Take your good, sweet time.”

  That voice did not belong to my mother.

  It was Ella van Dusen.

  * * * *

  I didn’t even stop to think. I veered left and jumped into Bluebell. I glanced down at my phone and saw that Ella had hung up on me. I needed to call the cops, but I couldn’t dial on my keypad while I was driving. Instead, I scrolled to Jonas’s contact info and called him.

  He picked up on the first ring. “Belinda, what’s—”

  “I can’t explain. There’s a killer with my mom—it’s that teenager, Ella. I need you to get over there. I’m on my way.”

  The connection went dead, but I couldn’t stop to contemplate whether Jonas had heard everything I’d said. I had to get to my mom. There was no way I’d let Ella take her from me, even if I did have to run over the serial-killing teen with my own car.

  I hardly slowed as I whipped into our long driveway, racing up it going twenty-five miles per hour. When I hit the brakes at the end of the drive, I narrowly missed bumping into an unfamiliar silver sedan.

  It was quite the dramatic entrance, but I knew it would be a waste of time trying to creep up on Ella. She was expecting me. Besides, I wanted her to know I was coming for her and that I had nothing to lose.

  Jonas’s truck was nowhere in sight. I had to assume I was flying solo on this mission. I popped the trunk and grabbed the first weapon-y thing I saw—a tire iron. So help me, I was going to stop this girl or die trying.

  The front door was open, as if Ella was inviting me in to my own parents’ home. This only served to stoke my rage. “What did you do with my mother!?” I screamed, stomping into the house.

  Ella stepped out from the kitchen. “We were just having some quality time,” she said, pointing the revolver at me. “Although your mom’s a little tied up at the moment.”