She gave him a dirty look and went into her room, coming out quickly, wearing a black bikini. She found him by the pool already wading in the velvety warm water.
“Come on, the water’s perfect.”
She dove into the swimming pool with its cascading waterfalls and rock formations built around it. He swam up to her and put a knee between her legs, lifting her up onto it. He kissed her on the neck. That unmistakable flutter of butterfly wings could be felt dead in the center of her stomach.
She kissed him back as the worries about men in dark suits patrolling the house disappeared. It had been years since they’d been in each other’s arms like this, and she was truly spellbound by him as they slowly found each other and made the present moment completely their own, in which anything was possible.
Their lovemaking continued outside the pool, into their bedroom, throughout the night becoming feverish and passionate, and then turning into something loving and sweet, as everyone and everything faded from their minds and they made up for all the years they’d lost. When they finally fell asleep, they were exhausted and oblivious to anything in the outside world.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
It had all worked so well, except that “Daddy” was back in town. Richard hadn’t even had to get rid of the journalist broad, because that jerk-off FBI agent was shacking up with her at the Grand Wailea. Oh yeah, Richard had gotten the low down on the entire crew and knew exactly what that Claire Travers and Tyler Savoy were up to, though they had no clue he was right under their noses.
He’d read every American newspaper he could get his hands on while abroad, and was delighted to see that he’d become one famous son of a bitch. A smart one too, because Richard knew he was still outsmarting them at every step. They hadn’t caught him, had they?
Maybe he’d pay Ms. Travers and the Savoy freebie a visit, once he was done here. Get a room over at that Grand Wailea after he changed his identity once more. It was a real snazzy place. Mother would’ve liked it.
Richard took all of his equipment down to the docks where he loaded it onto a little speedboat. A few years back he’d taken scuba lessons, deciding that he really liked the ocean. He’d spent quite a lot of spare time in the water.
He blackened his face, strapped on scuba equipment and weapons, and climbed into the boat. Two hundred yards out, he jumped in and swam to shore. The house stood on the cliffs right above him. He looked at his watch—four a.m.
The place was dark, but he didn’t need to see; he’d studied this place for the past week, once he’d figured out where they’d gone. He’d known about the house in Maui because of Helena herself. She’d confided in him about the time she’d spent with Patrick there. Richard had taken the chance that Patrick still owned the place and had gone there. If he’d been wrong, it wouldn’t have been a loss really, considering he’d been having a lot of fun in the sun. Eventually he’d get to them. But as luck would have it, his genius of a mind had been correct. He could play these people like chess pieces.
Richard knew exactly where each of the guards was located and when they changed shifts. As he climbed the cliff face, he reached the ledge nearest the pool. Lucky for him, there was no fence on this part of the property. The ledge ended above a steep cliff and the water below.
He’d been waiting for this. He’d made his way from LA to New York, then Paris, and finally to Hawaii. He’d landed on the big island, then chartered a boat to bring him here to Maui. He’d bought a gun from a low-life haole up country. The man didn’t ask questions, and Richard certainly didn’t offer any information.
He didn’t want to go through the smaller airport, even though he looked completely different than he had in LA. Security was so tight these days that he was afraid that somehow he’d be spotted.
Richard crept around to the front gates. It would be necessary to be fast and sure. There would be no room for mistakes if he was to get this done and get away cleanly.
He spied one of the guards reading the paper. Too perfect. He approached his unsuspecting victim with the stealth of a cat; sneaking up behind him, he wrapped his large hands around the neck and squeezed it like a vice. His black belt in jiu jitsu definitely paid off. To feel the energy of life as it escaped the man’s body was rejuvenating. He’d never killed a man before. It was different than with women, good. In a way, it provided him with a more immediate rush, without the exhausting labor it took to go through his necessary rituals with the ladies. This was easy, fast, no challenge to it at all really.
Strangling the man, he couldn’t help envisioning his father, the man he’d thought to be his loving uncle. The man he’d loved and needed, but who’d in the end betrayed him. If he could’ve, Richard would’ve tortured Uncle James. He would’ve made him suffer terribly for all the pain he’d caused!
No time now to think of that. His prize was sleeping inside the house. Richard moved just as silently to the next guard’s location, covered the man’s mouth, and silenced him with a knife through the heart, twisted just so, to rupture an artery and allow his victim to bleed to death. Ah, the sounds a dying man makes—so satisfying.
Killing was pure ecstasy, and he enjoyed using a variety of methods. He went quickly to his next victim. The element of surprise was still on his side.
The last man, like the others, didn’t know what hit him, as Richard simply removed a small pistol from the waterproof fanny pack around his waist and, with perfect aim, shot the man in the back of the head. The silencer made a slight thud, as if someone had dropped a book on the ground.
Now it was time to get inside and really have some fun. He found and shut down the breakers for the electricity and cut the phone lines. Stupid not to have those dogs here in Maui. For Christ’s sakes, did they actually believe they were safe with a few bozos watching the place? Dogs would’ve been more trouble than the frigging FBI and their puppets. Idiots! Assholes! All of them, simply incompetent!
He opened the bamboo doors that led to the kitchen, and just like that, he was in! He heard a noise from the family room and stopped. Had he missed one of the security men?
As he peered into the family room, he was thrilled to see that the noise was coming from Francesca, waking up on the couch. Absolutely beautiful!
She stood and dragged herself towards the back of the house. He followed. She stopped halfway down the hall—she’d heard him. He had gotten too close to the wall and scraped against it. That was okay. He could actually hear her breathing become more rapid and smell the fear emanating from her. Glorious.
“Mom? Dad? Is that you?”
He grabbed her from behind, covering her mouth. “No, sweetie. It’s me. I’ve returned for you.”
She tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but he was far too strong. Her movement only aroused him. How funny that he’d convincingly pulled off being gay for so long and done such a wonderful a job at it, when what really turned him on was the feel—and the smell—of a terrified female.
“Now, stop that! You know, this was how I did your step-mommy. I hated killing her. I kinda liked her. We had a lot in common. Such a shame.”
“Frankie? Honey?”
Not yet! It was the daddy man. Damn! He needed more time! Richard let her go. He would have to deal with the big guy first, and then he could do whatever he pleased with the women.
“Dad, it’s him! He’s in the house!” Frankie screamed as she ran into her father’s arms.
“Go get your mother! Get out of here!”
“No, Dad!”
“Go!”
Richard heard him try to switch on the lights. It was obvious Patrick couldn’t see him. “You fucking bastard, I’m gonna kill you!”
“Really? I think it’s the other way around.” Richard saw Patrick lunge for him, as his eyes had already adjusted to the dark. They both tumbled to the ground, but it was too late for Daddy Boy. Richard fired his gun when he saw him jump. Patrick struggled with him, fighting to save his family and himself, but it was to no avail, as Richar
d had wounded the man.
Patrick Kiley weakened, calling out for Frankie and Helena to get away before he collapsed. Richard knew Patrick wouldn’t be a problem anymore.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he taunted, heading for where he figured the bedrooms were. As he turned the corner of the hall, he heard something in the front of the house. He headed back that way, seeing both mother and daughter in the dawn’s light coming through the patio doors. Helena grabbed Frankie by the hand as they ran for the doors.
He sprinted towards them, firing his gun. “Uh, uh, uh, no, no ladies!”
He’d nearly clipped Helena in the shoulder. She tripped, but managed not to fall. Frankie kept running. Richard caught up with the weakened Helena and grabbed her around the neck. She was kicking and fighting as hard as she could.
“Never knew you were so feisty. All those mornings drinking lattes with you whining over this and that and having to listen to your dribble and pretend we were friends. No. More than that, I had to feign being your best friend. Fooled you, huh? Well the charade is over, Lovey. No more lattes for you, I’m afraid. It’s time to get serious. I want the two of you in here. Front and center, Francesca! Come join the party! Come out, come out, wherever you are, or I’ll have to blast one right between Mommy Dearest’s pretty eyes. Daddy can’t help you anymore, and we all know how helpful mommy has been in the past. So, please stop being stupid. Let’s make this easy for all of us.”
“Leave her alone,” Helena screamed.
“Shut up, bitch. I’m telling you, Francesca, if you don’t listen to me, I’ll hurt mommy real bad. I can hear you crying, Francesca. Don’t cry, Princess. She isn’t worth it. She’s mean, and she ruins lives. Look how she ruined Leeza’s, Brianne’s, yours, and most of all mine. Come out here. We can be so good together. We’ll get rid of Mommy Dearest, and you and I can live happily ever after. You’ll be the princess, and I’ll be your prince. Remember the story about Ligeia, Poe’s true love? You can be my Ligeia. It’ll be wonderful.”
“You sick fuck!” Helena howled.
“Now, I’ve had about enough of you. It’s time to send you on your merry way. See you in hell.” Richard smacked her across the face with his free hand. Helena winced. He hit her again, harder this time, with the back of his gun, knocking her back onto the large glass coffee table, shattering it. Shards of glass spread everywhere.
It was a lovely watching her crash hard against the floor. “Ouch, that must’ve hurt,” Richard said. No response from Helena, no cry, no movement, nothing. Richard turned his eyes to the kitchen where his Francesca could be heard screaming.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
Frankie watched in horror from the kitchen as her mother smashed right through the coffee table. She sobbed, thinking both her parents were dead.
“No more games, Francesca. Come on out here now, so we can talk. I love you, I really do. But we need to get straight on a couple of issues. Come out on your own, I don’t want to be forceful. I’ll give you a minute to compose yourself.
“You, know, I’m not thrilled about the way you left the cabin. I don’t take lightly to being teased. I’ll have to punish you for that. It really hurt me when you did that. I thought we were friends. After all, it was you who said that we were going to have a special night together. I even told my mother about you! Why did you leave me? I know it’s because of your mother here. Mothers can be so opinionated. My mother didn’t like a lot of the women I brought home over the years. I know how it feels to make a parent proud, how important it is. But Francesca, she doesn’t deserve your love. She abandoned you.”
Frankie saw him pace around her mom. She inched her way into the family room as quietly as possible by going around the other side of the kitchen, through the dining room. Thankfully, he was busy with his tirade. She made it to the fireplace that opened up into the family room and grabbed a poker propped next to it.
“What are you doing, Francesca?” He looked up at her from her mother’s body. “You wouldn’t want to do anything stupid, now, would you?”
“I wouldn’t?” She charged him as he raised his gun to shoot her. She concentrated forcing the sharp end of the poker straight through his stomach, knowing he could fire and kill her at any second. Richard screamed as the point went through him, dropping the gun as it fired into the air.
He fell to the floor, screaming. He grabbed Frankie’s ankle, and even though he’d been grievously wounded, his strength was unworldly. With the stake sticking out of the side of his body, he pulled her down to the ground. She struggled, while he grappled to put his hands around her neck. She kicked him in the stomach and was able to push him off. He tried to lunge for her again as a loud pop sounded from the floor near the coffee table.
Richard fell on top of her legs, dead. Frankie screamed and squirmed out from underneath him. She saw her mom sitting up, the silenced gun shaking in both hands.
“It’s over, Mom.” She went to her and put her arms around her. “It’s finally over,” Frankie sobbed.
The gun slipped from Helena’s hand as she stroked her daughter’s silken hair. “Yes it is, baby. It really is.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
Eighteen months later . . .
Helena tried to hold onto a wiggling twenty-month old Jeremy Winters as his mother Rachel cut the white satin ribbon strung across the front porch of the newly rebuilt Shea House. The baby had grown into a toddler and desperately wanted down.
The crowd that was gathered all cheered. Rachel walked over to Helena, taking Jeremy from her arms. They embraced. Tears of joy blurred Helena’s vision as she walked up the stairs to the top of the porch. She saw Tyler and Claire, now newlyweds, up front holding hands. Claire’s slight bulge in the tummy showed off her early pregnancy. Her book about their ordeal had sold as she’d predicted, and because of the profits, Shea House had been rebuilt faster than expected.
“I want to thank everyone for coming. This truly is a dream come true. Shea House will be able to provide housing for thirty women and their infant children. The goal is to help these women to not only find shelter but to also regain a sense of self-esteem, to become educated, and to help them become self-sufficient. When the women do find work, Shea House will provide childcare until they can afford housing and care on their own. What we’re doing here is very exciting. And we appreciate all of your support.
“Now, I’d like to introduce a few of my favorite supporters—not that all of you aren’t wonderful—but these people in particular have really helped to get this project off the ground. Please welcome Tyler and Claire Savoy, major contributors to seeing Shea House rebuilt. And Claire, who is the new pregnancy columnist over at Parenting Magazine, will be by the House twice a week to provide advice and support to our pregnant ladies.
“I’d also like to welcome Rachel Winters. Rachel will be working in the daycare center. As many of you know, Rachel survived the fire here a year and a half ago, and she’s come so far since that time. I can’t tell you how pleased I am that she’s decided to take a position with us, and we gratefully welcome her and her wonderful little boy, Jeremy.”
The crowd cheered for Rachel and her son. Rachel had come a long way from that day when Shea House burned down with her trapped inside. She’d undergone several surgeries and extensive therapy, and was progressing rapidly. Upon her return from Maui, Helena researched and found the best plastic surgeon in the country who’d done a wonderful job with the skin grafts Rachel needed done. It was an excruciating ordeal, but Rachel proved yet again what a brave young woman she was.
“Last but not least, I’d like to welcome my daughter Frankie and my fiancée Patrick Kiley. They, along with many others, have actually come out here on weekends and put their own blood and sweat into building Shea House. They will also be here on a volunteer basis on the weekends, as they’re moving back to Los Angeles soon. I love you both very much.” Loud applause erupted through the crowd. “Now, everyone please come inside, enjoy the tour and l
unch.”
Helena stepped down off the porch, allowing the guests to come through the front door. Patrick and Frankie and Frankie’s boyfriend Chris Highland approached her. The kids were holding hands. Helena couldn’t help wishing her daughter wasn’t almost grown up. She was getting ready to graduate from high school and would be attending USC in the fall, with plans to study, of all things, forensic science!
Frankie had finally gotten that kiss from Chris Highland. The one she’d thought about way back on the night Richard had abducted her while she was on her way down to the beach to be with her friends.
Patrick limped slightly from the gunshot he’d taken in the leg eighteen months earlier, but other than that things had gone very well. He, too, had gotten back all that he’d ever wanted.
“Thanks for embarrassing me, Mom.” Frankie laughed and threw her arms around Helena.
“Any time.”
“I’m starving. We’re going to head inside for some lunch, okay?”
“Great speech, Ms. Shea,” Chris said.
“Thanks, Chris. You can call me Helena.”
The young man nodded and led Frankie into the house. Helena and Patrick watched the two of them together, knowing that before long Frankie would be out on her own.
Patrick put an arm around Helena’s waist and pulled her close. “Ever thought this day would come?” he asked.
“Not in a million years, but I’m ecstatic it did.”
“Me, too. We’re finally a family, Lena.”
“Yes we are. We really are.”
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
Mommy May I Page 25
