Drop Dead Gorgeous

by Heather Graham

  “The kid is around here somewhere. I’ll find him.”

  “Sean is here, Brad is here… what if they find Brendan first? And surely, they’ll have called the cops by now.”

  “So what? They’ll just all go on suspecting one another.”

  “I don’t think so. They’ll figure it out.”

  “They haven’t even figured out their way around the rock pit yet,” Jeff said, amused. “And if they find me, well, I may have to do in a few men. It will be okay. I’ve picked up a guy now and then. No one ever puts two and two together when a guy is found dead.”

  “Ricky will shoot you if he shows up.”

  “Ricky won’t shoot me, because he won’t know I’m the killer. We’re all just running around in here, aren’t we? All trying to rescue poor Lori and Brendan! Besides, he can’t just shoot me. He’s a cop. He’s got to cuff me and arrest me. And then, hell, it won’t get to that.”

  “Jeff, no, it’s not that simple.”

  “Trust me, it is. I’ve been at it a while.” He was supremely confident, casual even, as they stood there.

  “You killed Mandy… and then you started knifing people up, and nobody ever caught on?” she whispered incredulously. If she could only keep him talking…

  “Naw… I started just playing. Girls. In college. You know, not one of the little sluts ever reported a rape. I mean, who would have believed them? They’d be out with me. Look at me? Why would I have to force a woman when there were plenty of women ready to go out with a guy like me?”

  “Yeah. So when did you start killing people? After Mandy, that is.”

  “Mmm… eight, nine years ago? First, it was just one, a hitchhiker, up in mid-state. They never found her, but I was scared silly for about a year. Then another… I made myself be careful. I rationed myself. A whore occasionally, then some nightclub sluts.”

  “You’ve been on a glut lately.”

  “Yeah, well, there’s a guy to take the blame again.”

  “You really think anyone will believe Sean killed me?”

  “Hell, yes! Don’t you read the papers?”

  She heard a rustle from behind her and opened her mouth, screaming as loud as she could, “Help! It’s Jeff Olin, and he’s got a knife—”

  “Lori, you damned bitch, you stupid little cunt!” he thundered, spitting out the words with his rage as he grasped her, slamming a hand over her mouth and bringing the knife to her face. “Pity. You always were beautiful, you know. Almost as beautiful as me, Lori. You know, I always meant to have you myself. When you came home, I thought that I’d have you at last. Like the cream of the crop, the pick of the litter. I’d keep you a while, and I’d have you alive. But that’s all right. Dead will be just fine… I’ll try not to mutilate your face until the end.”

  She saw the knife glittering above her, felt his free arm constricting her against him, his fingers clamped hard over her face and mouth. She struggled, trying to kick him, yet when she was certain she would fail and couldn’t possibly avoid the edge of his blade, she suddenly heard him grunt as he was ripped away from her.

  “Let go of my mother, you cockroach,” Brendan cried.

  Lori, suddenly released, staggered into a tree, righted herself, and turned back. She screamed at the top of her lungs. Brendan had fought for her, but he was still a boy, and Jeff was a powerful man. He wrenched free from Brendan, who had attacked him from behind, lifted the boy, and slammed him to the earth.

  Then fell on top of him.

  “No!” Lori shrieked. She pushed forward from the tree, throwing herself on Jeff Olin’s back. She captured his wrist, the wrist that held the knife, with both her hands. His strength was far greater than hers. He had nearly freed himself and shaken her off when she stretched harder against him, bringing her teeth to his wrist and biting through the flesh. He let out a scream of anguish. The knife fell.

  He rose with her, gripped her by the ribs, and threw her with a furious force back against the tree. Stunned, she slumped down the length of the tree, only to see that he was coming after her again.

  The knife, forgotten, lay in the dirt. Brendan, too, lay in the dirt. Unconscious again.

  Or dead.

  “You think I need a weapon?” he demanded with contemptuous fury. “I’m going to throttle the life out of you, Lori, look right in those glittering cat eyes of yours until they pop right out of your head. And when you’re unconscious, or dead, I’m going to do things to you that will make you roll in your grave for all eternity…”

  She was nearly dead already, she thought, her head was spinning so badly she kept slipping as she tried to rise to fight him. He reached for her, and his fingers curled around her throat. He dragged her up against the tree, foam on his lips, he’d been speaking with such anger, his handsome face hideously contorted…

  “No!” she managed to choke out. She was terrified, but she lashed back with words as long as she could. “I’ll claw your face until you bleed, and this time, when they find me, they’ll know, they’ll know that you’re a killer, and they’ll put you in the electric chair, and they’ll send a million volts through you and…”

  She broke off as her breath left her entirely. She tried to gasp in air. She couldn’t. Black beads began to form before her, then…

  She heard a scream.

  It was Jeff. Jeff screamed.

  He released her.

  She fell against the tree again, slipping to the earth, the moonlight flooded out at first by the black pinpoints before her eyes forming together. Then her vision began to clear.

  Sean. Sean’s knife was in Jeff’s back, but it wasn’t long enough to have killed.

  Sean and Jeff were involved in a vicious fistfight, both swinging, both down then, in the dirt, both rolling and rolling…

  Jeff leapt to his feet, refusing to go down, despite the blade in his back.

  Lori tried to cry out; there was help out there somewhere, she had heard more voices. It was like a nightmare, in which she tried and tried, but couldn’t scream. Her neck and throat were too swollen; her voice was only a croak…

  Movement. Brendan. Brendan was crawling forward as the men battled violently just feet away. He nearly came to his knees… then fell again.

  The knife still glittered in the dirt. The knife Jeff had used to kill so many people. The knife he would use against all of them, if he could.

  Jeff staggered up. He folded his fists, ready to slam a powerful blow down upon Sean’s neck.

  But Sean rose, just in time, swung a fist, and grappled Jeff. The two went down again.

  Lori grabbed the tree, heedless that the bark ripped her hands as she staggered to her feet. Then she saw that Brendan was moving again, inching across the dirt. He looked up. His eyes met hers.

  Scream, she mouthed at him. “Scream for help.”

  He did. Brendan started shouting at the top of his lungs. She went to her knees, crawling to her son. She saw the knife in the dirt. Jeff’s knife. She picked it up.

  Lori heard a cracking sound, and she twisted around.

  Both Jeff and Sean were on the ground. Still. Dead still. They didn’t move.

  With her heart in her throat, Lori urged Brendan behind her. She rose and staggered toward the two men, paralyzed with fear, yet determined that she would do whatever it took to keep Jeff Olin down…

  Just as she reached the men, Sean groaned, and began to rise. She came beside him, finding new strength to help him up. He accepted her aid, but then nudged Jeff with his foot.

  “I heard a cracking…” Lori whispered.

  “I think I broke his jaw.”

  Sean stared at Jeff, then turned toward Lori and Brendan. He reached for Lori, bringing her into his arms. Brendan came to them, and he enveloped the boy as well.

  Lori started shaking uncontrollably. She dropped the knife. Didn’t matter; she wasn’t going to have to use it. Jeff wasn’t dead, but neither was he going to get up. Not now. Sean hadn’t killed him, but he had leveled him, and in t
his place he had avenged Mandy’s murder.

  He pulled them back quickly when they heard soft laughter coming from the ground.

  Lori stared down at Jeff. He had twisted over. His right eye was black, his face had swollen horribly. He wasn’t drop dead gorgeous anymore. He could hardly move his mouth or tongue, but he was speaking anyway, taunting them.

  “Crazy. Crazy… they’ll arrest me, I’ll be out in a year,” he said. He began to cough, spitting out a tooth.

  He pointed a finger at Lori, as if it were a gun. “I’ll come for you. Pretty Lori, pretty, pretty, Lori… dead, alive, dead, alive. And Sean, big man on campus, well, it’s been a hell of a life I gave you, huh? You wait and see, I’ll take Lori, and no matter what, there will be those pointing fingers at you, saying you’re the one who hurt her, raped her, killed her—”

  A thunderous, explosive sound tore through the night.

  Lori spun around.

  Ricky Garcia stood in the clearing, his gun in his hand, still smoking.

  He stared from Lori to Brad. “Dammit, Sean. I tried to tell you I didn’t do it.” He shook his head at the two of them. “You report what you feel you have to. No, I’m not God, or judge, or jury. I was just Ellie’s friend, Sue’s friend—and your friend.”

  He turned, and walked away. Lori leaned against Sean, her arm around her son, and they made their way behind Ricky.

  Rescue crews arrived at the rock pit, along with numerous news teams.

  Lori found herself protected from the press by Sean, her brother, and a number of Ricky’s fellow cops, but she wasn’t escaping a trip to the emergency room, or a night in the hospital for observation since her throat was so badly bruised. Bits and pieces of information filtered to her along with the flash of photographers’ cameras, which could not be avoided.

  Through sketchy conversations, she began to understand everything that had happened. Ricky had called her brother when he’d gotten the message from Sean, afraid that Lori wouldn’t know whom to trust, and so Andrew had been as involved in the frantic search as the others.

  Jeff was dead.

  The families of his many victims might not find peace, but at the very least, they would have closure.

  Sean stood clear of all suspicion.

  She was somewhat alarmed that although he came to the hospital, he left her mostly to the fussing of her parents that night. Her mother wouldn’t leave her side. Being a mother, Lori understood.

  Gramps was there, looking really good for once, strong in his support.

  “I always knew that boy was all right,” he said about Sean.

  “Yeah, you did.”

  “Did you tell him yet?”

  “He knows.”

  Gramps seemed satisfied, and managed to get her family out of her room, knowing that Sean would be back.

  It was very late when Sean returned, walking so quietly that she didn’t realize he was standing there for several minutes.

  “Lori?”

  She opened her eyes.

  “Sean.” She sat up. “I almost doubted you again—”

  “You heard me when I found the ropes.”

  “I was terrified… I saw the blood.”

  He glanced ruefully at his hand. “I cut it when I was at the bar, trying to find out what happened.”

  “I know… Ricky told me somewhere along the line. Oh, God, I’m so sorry! For so many things.”

  “Lori, it doesn’t matter. We can’t go back, and undo any of the pain of the past. I hurt you, too. But I do love you, you know,” he said very softly.

  “I always loved you. I just never had the courage to say so before.”

  Sean smiled. “Well, I guess I’m a little late doing the right thing considering the ‘baby’ will be fifteen next birthday, but I want to marry you, Lori. I want to stay here, build a life. I ran away before. So did you. But this is home, for both of us. And for our son. Well?” He arched a brow.

  He looked great, Lori thought. He was tired. Worn. A little ragged. She could clearly see the character lines etched into his face, the pain, the humor, even a curious sheepishness. She smiled, afraid she was going to burst into hysterical tears at this late moment, when she was finally safe, and being offered a future she desperately wanted.

  She nodded and said huskily, “I want to marry you, too. When do we tell Brendan?” Lori asked softly.

  “That we’re getting married? Well, before the wedding, I imagine.”

  “No, I mean that you’re his father.”

  “I don’t know yet. When we both feel the time is right. Maybe soon, before he hears too many things.”

  “I think he’ll be glad to have you for his father.”

  “I hope so.” He squeezed her hand. She frowned suddenly.

  “Sean, after what happened, what about Ricky—”

  “Ricky is in the clear. There will be questions, of course. Reports to fill out. An inquiry. But there was a scuffle; Jeff was threatening lives. As a police officer, Ricky was entirely in the right to prevent a life-threatening situation against innocent civilians.”

  She nodded. “Good. And Brad and Jan—”

  “I think they’ll be fine. And I think that Brad and I can really be friends now. And I may even get along with your brother.”

  Sean and Lori laughed. “He was only protecting me,” she said.

  “I know.”

  “Strange, though. Poor Michael. I should have known anyone that good to animals couldn’t have been a killer. Did you know, Sean, he was the smartest among us. He told me that Jeff was a shark.”

  “Did he?”

  “Yes—I was afraid to be in my house with Michael, while Michael was the only one with the right instincts to know the truth about Jeff.”

  “It’s just that Jeff was Mandy’s brother,” Sean said softly. “Jeff was very, very sick,” he added. “But it’s over, and we made it, and right now, Lori, just life itself seems awfully damn good. Get some rest, huh?”

  Lori nodded, and closed her eyes, exhausted, and ready to sleep. Easily. He was at her side. They had a lot of pain to face in the days to come.

  A lot of healing to do.

  But now they could heal without lies or fear, and for the moment, that was enough.

  epilogue

  One day, about three months after the incident at the rock pit, Sean and Brendan were fishing alone just offshore from Plantation Key, where they’d rented a beach house for the weekend.

  Brendan had just snagged a good-size snapper. He’d hauled it in, and while he put his fish in the ice chest, Sean rebaited his hook. Minutes later, after discussing the merits of his catch, they sat in silence again. Then Brendan startled Sean by asking, “Are you my father?”

  Taken by surprise, Sean hesitated, studying the shore. He could see Lori stretched out on a towel on the beach, reading.

  “Yes,” he said simply. Then he looked at Brendan and asked, “Do you mind?”

  Brendan shrugged, then grinned. “I never knew Ian Corcoran.”

  Sean nodded. “I guess there’s a lot we could really explain when you’re older—”

  “I’m plenty old; you don’t have to explain anything. I love my mother, I don’t feel traumatized, nor do I have any psychological hang-ups about the situation,” Brendan told him, amused. Then he said, “And I’m glad you’re my father.”

  Sean looked toward the shoreline. Lori had risen, and she was waving, pointing to the barbecue pit. Lean and tanned, blond hair tossed in the breeze, she was indicating that it was time for lunch.

  He looked at Brendan, then to Lori once again.

  And he knew that it had been one hell of a long road, but he’d really, finally, come home.

 

 

 
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