Howard turned to find Marcus jogging toward him. The boy stopped a few inches short of him, his eyes darting nervously.
“Is there something you need?” Howard asked.
“I, um, I might, you know…have some information that you could use or something.” He ran his teeth over his lip, his large brown eyes glancing up at him briefly before moving away again.
Howard waited a beat before saying, rather impatiently, “Well. Whatever you have to say, spit it out.”
“If I tell you what I know…Look,” he said strongly, “I can’t be tied to this, alright? If I tell you, you can’t tell anyone it was me.”
Howard didn’t like making deals before he knew what he was dealing with, but he had absolutely nothing left to lose and this case was going nowhere fast. If this kid has information, he was willing to agree to anything to get it.
“Whatever, I didn’t hear it from you. Now spill.”
“Uh, that truck you’re looking for,” he spoke slowly. “I might have gotten the license plate.”
Howard’s eyes widened with interest. “Why did you sit on this information when you knew your friend was fighting for his life? Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
Marcus winced. “I know I should have.”
“Then why didn’t you?” Howard snapped.
“Because I was scared!” Marcus looked around frantically; making sure no one was watching or listening. “I was scared,” he said more subdued this time. “I’m not even twenty yet, and, well, you know what happens in places like that.” His eyes were pleading with him to understand and, yeah, he knew exactly what the kid was getting at. Drugs, alcohol…He was terrified of Mommy and Daddy finding out that he wasn’t the nice, responsible student they had shipped off, and if the school found out…There was no telling how much trouble he would be in.
Howard decided to cut him some slack. “I get it. And don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure you aren’t mentioned in the paperwork. Now tell me what happened, and this time, don’t leave anything out.”
Marcus nodded, relieved but still tense. “Well, Brent had just left and I realized he was holding for me, so I ran out to catch him before he drove off. You know, stuff costs a lot of money these days.”
Drugs, Howard thought, his suspicions confirmed.
“I was just about to call out to him when he tripped and like that,” he snapped his fingers, “the truck was there. I’ll never forget the sound when it hit him.” He stared off, his thoughts drifting back to the moment it all happened, then he shook his head to clear it away. “RNMOVR. I’ll never forget it. Sick, right?”
Run-em-over, Howard translated in his head. Jesus. He knew that plate.
“So,” Marcus said, his entire demeanor changing. “Is there, like, a reward or something?”
“Yep,” Howard said with a wide grin, and clapped him on the shoulder. “You get to go to bed tonight with a clear conscience.”
Marcus looked deflated, then sullen.
Howard took off, too hopped up to care. What Marcus had revealed blew the whole case wide open. He got on his phone, dialing the police chief as he burst into the stairwell, too impatient to wait for the elevator.
“John,” he barked into the phone when the chief picked up. “It’s Howard. I got something for you.”
In a crackly voice John grumbled, “Jesus, Howard. Do you know what time it is?”
“Forget the time,” he snapped, jumping down the last few stairs to the second floor landing. “You need to get down to the station and put a squad together. I have some information that just blew the doors off the Lefebvre case.”
“What? Calm down, Howard, you’re talking a mile a minute.” Down the line, Howard could hear the soft rustle of fabric as the chief got out of bed and pulled on his clothes. “What kind of information are we talking about here?”
“It’s a long story. Look,” Howard said, barreling through the first floor door and down the hall to the emergency exit. “I’m heading into the station right now. Just meet me there and I’ll fill you in on everything.” Hanging up, Howard jogged through the parking lot to his car, anxious to get the ball rolling before they missed their window to catch this guy.
Howard was just opening his car door when his phone jangled in his hand. “What is it,” he barked, folding himself in behind the wheel.
“Is this Young? Howard Young,” the shaky male voice asked.
“Speaking.” Something about this person’s voice made Howard stop and pay attention.
“This is Jerold Montrose. I am a lawyer representing Terri Cunningham—”
Howard slammed the car into reverse. “If this is about my questioning her, you can save it. I was well within the legal parameters—”
“That’s not the reason for this call,” Jerald interrupted. “I am calling because I have reason to believe her life might be in danger.”
Harold froze, and he slid the car back into park. “Okay, Mr. Montrose, you have my attention.”
***
Luke was sitting in his office, busying himself with paperwork, when his phone started ringing. He answered it on the first ring. “Detective Young. What can I do for you this evening?”
“Is Terri working tonight,” he asked impatiently.
Luke frowned. “No. She’s off tonight. What’s this all about?” he asked, sitting at attention.
“I stopped by her house the other day.”
“She’s not staying there right now,” Luke informed, getting a queasy feeling.
“I already figured that. I talked to her husband.”
Now Luke was on full alert. “Her husband? He was in the house?”
“Well, I met him outside, but it certainly seems that way. Why? Is he not supposed to be there?”
“They’re getting divorced. What do you think?”
“Well, according to Mr. Cunningham, they’re in the process of reconciling.”
Luke no longer cared about guarding his tongue. He was too worried about where this line of conversation was headed. “No. That’s the last thing Terri wants.”
“And how would you know what she wants, Mr. Reed?”
“Because I do,” was all Luke was willing to say.
“I called her residence, but there was no answer,” Detective Young informed him. “Do you know where she is?” The tone of his voice told Luke he knew well where she might be, but he was looking for confirmation.
“She’s staying with me.” Standing, Luke paced back and forth across the tiny expanse behind his desk. “What are you not telling me?”
“I don’t have time to get into it right now,” he said. “I’m pulling into the station as we speak, but I think it would be wise of you to get ahold of her, make sure everything is okay.”
“Is she in danger?” Luke asked, feeling the stirrings of panic begin to bubble up like acid in his stomach.
“I don’t know,” the detective said honestly. “Just call her, make sure everything is alright on her end, then do me a favor and call me back to let me know.”
“What is going on,” Luke growled into the phone. He was losing patience, his worry for Terri’s well-being taking his mind captive.
“All I can tell you is I’m following up on a lead. So do everyone a favor and do as I asked.” The line went dead and Luke’s hand dropped.
He was a bundle of nerves, the sensation of his world imploding pressing down around him. He couldn’t believe that after all these years someone could affect him this much, but Luke couldn’t deny the overwhelming sensation that he needed to be certain Terri was okay.
Hanging up the phone, he retrieved his cell phone, wallet, and keys from the desk drawer. On his way out the door, he started dialing his house. “Cathie,” he shouted across the bar. “I’m leaving early. You’re in charge of closing if I don’t get back before then.” Her expression was that of worry, but she just nodded and continued filling drinks.
“Ray,” he said as he got to the front door. “I need
you to hold the place down. I have to take off for a while. I might not be back.” Ray knew what to do, so he wasn’t worried about leaving the club in his capable hands.
“Don’t worry about a thing, boss. I got it covered,” Ray said, holding the door open for him to pass.
The phone rang and rang as Luke jogged around to the back of the building to his car. He could have just gone out the back door where it was parked, but he had needed to tell everyone he was going, so now he was cold on top of being edgy.
He got into the car and thrust the keys into the ignition. “Come on, Terri. Pick up,” he said as he broke out into traffic. There was no answer, but he kept trying until it was clear that she wasn’t coming to the phone. Then he called the police station, asking for Detective Young. When the detective answered, he yelled at him.
“Terri’s not answering the phone. Now tell me what the hell is going on!”
“The most likely scenario, her husband knows where she is and he isn’t happy,” the detective said unpleasantly.
“How the hell do you figure that,” Luke demanded, swerving to avoid crashing into a slow moving car. As far as he knew, only he and Terri knew that Luke was looking for her.
“Well, I got a break in the case this evening, which told me this Cunningham fellow was one bad character. But the biggest one was the guy that called me right after that. He gave me some pretty damning information, which prompted me to call you.”
“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to tell me?”
“That’s all I can tell you right now,” Detective Young said apologetically. “I’m heading to your place now. Is that where you’re going?”
“Already halfway there,” Luke said determinedly, pressing his foot down on the pedal.
“Good, we’ll meet you. And do me a favor,” the detective said before he hung up. “If you think something might be wrong when you get there, wait outside. Let the professionals handle it.”
“Right. Sure thing.” Luke snapped the phone shut. If even one blade of grass looked out of place, nothing would keep him from being in that house.
Chapter Eighteen
Terri sat back on her haunches and appraised her work. The bathrooms were gleaming, not a hair or a spot of dust to be seen. The smell of lemons hung in the air, giving it that clean, citrus fragrance she loved so much.
She checked the bathrooms off her list. With only two chores left to go, she gathered her supplies, then paused, hunched over the bucket she had used to carry them in, and checked her iPod. She pushed the button a dozen times, searching for the right song to suit her mood. Half the stuff she had on there was played out or came with the album and weren’t something she really cared for in the first place. She really needed to sit down and go through it, make some space for something awesome.
Settling on a tune that harkened back to her college days when she was wild and carefree, Terri hefted the bucket up and lugged it into the adjacent bedroom.
She really was pleased with her work tonight. The solitude had afforded her the perfect opportunity to get her head on straight. She was looking forward to when Luke came home and saw what she had done with the place. She knew he was only joking when he said he expected it to be spotless when he got home, but she wanted to give him something that said thank you for everything he had done for her, and cleaning his bachelor pad was probably the single best gift she could give him.
As she sprayed a layer of furniture polish on the hardwood table in the middle of the living room, the song playing in her ears switched to her new favorite, Sunday Bloody Sunday, reminding her of her dance with Luke last night. She didn’t even remember having it on her iPod, but she was glad it was. She wiped down the furniture, swaying her hips and allowing the soothing yet upbeat melody to wash over her.
Terri had just finished with the table and was tucking the dirty rag back into the bucket, when an unexplainable feeling of unease settled over her. And somehow, she just knew. Looking up, with Bono shouting in her ears “Sunday, bloody Sunday, wipe your tears away!” she locked eyes with the lone figure standing in the middle of the kitchen.
“Hello, Terri,” Randy said in a disturbingly calm voice that chilled her to the bone. “Miss me?”
Terri was frozen to the floor, her muscles locked and her mind screaming frantically. She went through a dozen scenarios for escape. She could try to get past Randy to the back door, and run for help, but with his thick frame and quick reflexes, she wouldn’t stand a chance. She could run for the sliding door, fumble with the unfamiliar locks and dash onto the deck, assuming she made it that far, and try to outrun him there. But she knew that was an even more unlikely scenario because once again Randy would be on her in a New York minute. Her only other option would be to try and make it to the front door, fumble with the locks there, and scream her head off as she ran, but no one would hear her. She bit her lip, thinking. Maybe if she could get outside she could hide in the woods, wait for Luke to get home.
“What, no hugs or kisses for your husband,” Randy said, taking a step toward her.
Terri took a step back, watching him warily. “What are you doing here, Randy?” She gulped, praying fervently that Luke would walk through that door any second now and rescue her, but it was still several hours until closing, so she was very much alone, left to fend for herself. Bile rose up in her throat. He had defied anyone from getting into his house, but she always knew Randy was capable of anything, and here he was, proof positive that nothing and no one could hold him back. Why had she allowed herself to forget that?
Randy tilted his head and tsked. “Honestly, Terri. Did you think I wouldn’t come for you? I told you this day was coming. So let’s make this easy, shall we? Go get your things. It’s time to go home.”
Terri took another step back, mirroring Randy’s own movements. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Anger flashed in his eyes, but Randy restrained himself. He smiled a coaxing smile. “Come on, love bug. Let’s not make this more difficult than it has to be. Just get your things, or not. Doesn’t make any difference to me, but it might to you when you find you have nothing to wear tomorrow. Either way, it’s time we sat down and had a little chat.”
Terri rounded the table, keeping it between them and positioning herself closer to the front door. None of this escaped Randy’s attention, but he didn’t try to stop her. “We have nothing to talk about,” she said crisply, covertly widening her stance for when she decided to run.
“That’s where you’d be wrong,” Randy said sternly. “Do you even realize what I had to go through to get back to you? This last year has been hell for me. Do you even care?” His voice rose and he had to work to regain control of his temper.
“Do you realize the hell you have put me through,” Terri snapped, her own temper getting the better of her. She couldn’t help it. After so long of playing the punching bag, of always watching every word she said, she just couldn’t find it in herself to keep quiet anymore. “You ruined my life.”
“Me!” Randy said indignantly.
“Yes, you. Because of you I have lived every day in fear of my life. Because of you I have no friends. Because of you I have no children. I spent years trying to make you happy, wondering what was wrong with me that I couldn’t make it work, and where did that get me? Nowhere, except in a hospital bed with broken bones.”
Rounding the couch, Randy stood within arm’s reach, watching her closely. “There was nothing wrong with you, Terri, except that you refused to follow the rules. Everything that happened could have been prevented if you had just listened,” he insisted.
He reached for her. Terri jerked back, just avoiding his grasp. “Go to hell,” she snarled. Desperate to distract him, to bide time, she asked, “How did you even find me in the first place? And don’t think I don’t know you’ve been following me. You know where I live, where I work…”
Randy huffed, as if he didn’t appreciate her questioning him. “Why does it even matter? I found
you, end of story.”
“It does matter!” Terri shrieked. “I moved away, I changed my hair.” She tugged the end of her dyed black ponytail as evidence. All that work, all the effort that went into becoming invisible, for nothing. “Yet here you are. I want you to tell me how you managed it.”
His shoulder lifted in a negligent shrug. “You always knew I was a man of many means. It shouldn’t surprise you then that I have resources.”
“What kind of resources,” Terri asked, narrowing her eyes on him. “You mean people? Money?” She had to know. It would drive her insane to never know how he had done it all.
“People, money…” Randy skirted the table and Terri mirrored him, always keeping distance between them.
“Who,” she demanded. “Who would help you?”
“I don’t think you really want to know that, do you, Terri? Sometimes the truth can do more harm than good.”
“Tell. Me,” she said more forcefully. She felt like screaming, racing for the door, anything to make this nightmare stop, to go away.
“Do you remember your lawyer, Jerry?”
“Mr. Montrose? What does he have to do with anything?”
“He has everything to do with everything,” Randy hedged, the light in his eyes turning dark and stormy. “While you were busy seeking a speedy divorce, he was busy keeping it from happening.”
Terri spluttered, her mind went on the fritz, and she began shaking violently. How could he do this? How could Randy convince a person of the law to do his bidding? How could someone be so cruel, so dishonest? “I don’t believe you,” she croaked. “He took an oath. He told me…he told me…”
“He told you what?” Randy snapped. “That the judge wasn’t listening. That things were more complicated than expected?” Terri raised horrified eyes to look at him. “News flash: he lied. He’s been working for me the entire time, telling me everything. Everywhere you went, everyone you talked to. I always knew, Terri. Always.”
“You had me spied on?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It was like some crazy movie that had somehow turned into reality.
Her Only Salvation Page 14
