by Shelly Bell
The adrenaline coursing through her made her dizzy. Her chest felt tight as if there was a heavy weight sitting on it and her heart was sprinting a mile a minute. She wobbled as her vision started to darken.
No, no, no. She couldn’t have a panic attack. Not now.
She reached behind her for the door handle, but before she could escape, the monster grabbed her and tossed her to the floor as if she were a rag doll. “Who are you?” she asked, her words coming out slurred and whispered.
“Haven’t you guessed?” he asked calmly.
Her tongue felt as if it had swollen to ten times its normal size and her limbs tingled. Her gaze landed on the syringe sticking out the top of his pocket.
That sting on her neck. Had he injected her with something?
She wasn’t having a panic attack. He’d drugged her.
Based on her final conversations with Cash, she took a guess at his identity. “You’re Thomas Lundquist.”
He tipped his head. “I am.”
If her life wasn’t in peril, she would feel badly for Cash. Out of all the possible suspects, she’d never thought it would turn out to be Lundquist. “What happened to the guard?” Because she knew Lundquist had to be responsible for his disappearance.
“I pulled the fire alarm in the parking garage,” he said matter-of-factly. “When he came to investigate, I jabbed him with the same thing that I just gave you, although a much higher dose. He’s currently sleeping it off between a Lexus and a Ford. He won’t remember a thing about how he got there or understand why all the security tapes are blank when he checks them.”
Her body trembled violently. “You killed Cash’s coworkers.”
“You’re not only beautiful, but smart too. I see why Cash fell for you.”
Her limbs were becoming less useful by the second. It was as if they were filled with gelatin. If she couldn’t get out of her apartment, she needed another plan. There was only one thing she could do to help herself. She just hoped she didn’t pass out before she achieved it. She slowly scooted backward toward her bedroom. “If you’re going to kill me, at least tell me why.”
He placed a hand on the gun in his holster. “Do you know how expensive it is to bring a drug to market? Ten years ago, I had to borrow money from some very questionable people in order to stay in business, but I knew I was onto something special with Dosothysomine.”
“Doso…” Her lips were numb, making it difficult to speak.
“Dosothysomine. It’s a dissociative anesthetic used to induce a trancelike state in animals for surgery. I promised my financial backers that the drug would make them millions. Everything was going according to plan. The studies went perfectly. The drug showed no adverse effects like the other drugs on the market. Then my research scientist discovered the drug didn’t work quite as we believed. While it caused catatonia and amnesia, the brain EEG tests detected that the animals still felt pain. I had no choice. If I didn’t bring the drug to market, my financers would’ve killed me.”
Catatonia and amnesia.
She had a feeling that he wasn’t talking with her out of the goodness of his heart. He was just biding his time until the drug took full effect and she became catatonic. Then he’d bash her head in with the baseball bat. “That’s what Cash overheard that night. Wasn’t it?”
“Sanders and Moran were discussing it. When Cash came to me with what he’d heard, I put some of the drug into his champagne during our toast.”
That’s why Cash couldn’t remember what happened that night. The drug had given him amnesia. It also explained what had caused the accident.
She continued slowly crab-crawling toward her bedroom. She was almost there. “I don’t understand why you killed Cash’s coworkers.”
“When Browner came and told me that you’d contacted him about Cash’s case, I initially planned on just scaring you into dropping the issue with my car and the photograph. Once I realized you and Cash weren’t going to give up, I decided to go after his coworkers. I’d read all about your attack. I figured killing those women with a baseball bat would send Cash the message to stop digging into his past. But then he told me he’d started to remember things.” He lifted his bat in the air. “Your murder and his suicide will tie up all the loose ends.”
Her strength ebbing, she got to her feet and lumbered the last couple of lengths to her bedroom. The second she crossed inside, she fell flat on the floor, pain blasting through her chin and head. She couldn’t move. Her legs were useless. She was going to die here and there was nothing she could do to stop it. A rough wet tongue licked her finger.
Harnessing all her energy, she managed to lift that finger to unlatch the door to the dog crate. Butch’s growls and shouts from behind her were the last sounds she heard.
Then everything went black.
TWENTY-NINE
Cash rushed into the lobby of Dreama’s apartment building with Ryder and Finn following close behind. When Dreama hadn’t answered her phone, Cash had comforted himself with the thought that she lived in a secure building and had Butch to defend her.
But comfort turned to dread as his gaze fell upon the unmanned desk. “Damn it. The guard isn’t here.” He shot past where he normally signed in, raced toward the elevator, and hit the button on the wall.
Finn’s hand wrapped around Cash’s arm. “You shouldn’t assume—”
“Make the call,” Cash said to him. They had made a contingency plan on the way over and it looked like they were going to have to use it.
He didn’t know what happened to the guard. Thomas could have paid him off or he could’ve just gone to take a piss. Either way, the guy wasn’t there to do his job and that gave Thomas a chance to gain access to the building.
He turned toward Ryder, who sat behind the guard desk. “Are you ready?”
“I need about…three minutes,” Ryder said, typing on the computer keyboard.
Cash stepped onto the elevator and prayed he wasn’t already too late.
The doors slid closed and each second that followed felt like an eternity.
He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if…
No. He bit his cheek so hard he tasted blood. He couldn’t bear to finish the thought. Suffused with rage, Cash kicked the elevator wall. How could he have been so naïve as to trust Thomas? Eight years ago, sure. Cash hadn’t known any better. But after prison? He’d practically hand-fed Thomas the details of his and Dreama’s investigation. He’d admitted his memory of that night was returning. If he’d only kept his mouth shut, Dreama would be safe right now.
As soon as his foot hit Dreama’s floor, he heard Butch’s vicious growls coming from Dreama’s apartment. Cash tore down the hallway, his heart beating so fast, he was sure it would kill him. And if Dreama was dead, he might even welcome it.
A pitiful yelp resounded as Cash flew through her unlocked door. He moved farther into the apartment, unsettled by the unexpected silence. Dressed in a police uniform, Thomas stood with his back to Cash, holding his wooden baseball bat high in the air.
“Wait!” Cash shouted. “Don’t do it, Thomas. Put the bat down.”
Thomas turned around. Behind him, Dreama lay prone on the floor, her arm outstretched toward Butch’s cage. Both legs of Thomas’s pants were torn and bloody, making Cash wonder if Butch had been responsible. But other than Thomas’s injuries, there was no sign that the dog was even there. Cash tried not think about what that meant.
Cash had expected to look at Thomas and finally see the man behind the mask. But from the outside, Thomas was still the same man Cash had always known, the man he’d once revered as a father figure. The man who’d inspired Cash’s love of animals. How could a person like that hide such evil inside of him?
“Cash.” Thomas lowered the bat to his side. “You’re early.”
He covered the area over his heart with his hand. “And you’re a serial killer.” If he was early, did that mean Dreama was still alive? There was no blood on the baseball bat, but fr
om far away, he couldn’t tell if she was breathing. “Is Dreama alive?”
Thomas’s gaze darted wildly from side to side. “She is, but not for long.”
“Let her go, Thomas. You don’t want to take another life.”
Thomas pulled his gun from its holster and aimed it at Cash. “You’re right. I don’t. But sometimes we have to do things we don’t want for the greater good.”
Thomas’s actions no longer surprised him.
“And what greater good is that?” Cash asked, putting out his palms to show Thomas that he wasn’t armed. “Money? Because you obviously care nothing about the animals you allege to be helping.”
A muscle in Thomas’s jaw ticked. “You remember.”
“Everything,” Cash said, enunciating the word. “Stephen Browner told me how you bought him off and it’s just a matter of time before Moran and Sanders start talking. Even if you kill Dreama and me, it’s all over for you, Thomas. I’ve told two other people, two men with more money than you. They’ll make sure to take you down.”
Thomas’s didn’t blink but there was a tremor in the hand holding the gun. “You’re lying.”
Cash didn’t respond, but he did take a step toward Thomas. He tried to act as if he wasn’t scared, but the truth was he’d never been more terrified in his life.
Thomas shook his head and laughed bitterly. “The night of the party, you were never supposed to get behind the wheel. I had expected the drug to take effect much quicker than it did. I suppose I didn’t factor in your size. It took you longer to metabolize. I thought you’d pass out at the party and everyone would assume you had drunk too much.”
Hearing Thomas admit the truth wasn’t as gratifying as Cash would’ve expected. “I overheard a conversation between a couple of your scientists. They found evidence that Dosothysomine paralyzed the animals but that they could still feel pain during the surgery.” He looked his old family friend right in the eye. “I told you and you said you’d take care of it.”
Thomas had taken care of it all right, by covering his tracks. “Higher doses of Dosothysomine cause memory loss.”
“That’s why I couldn’t remember what happened at the party or even before it,” Cash said, putting it all together. “Why I had so much trouble communicating after the accident. The police thought I was drunk or high.”
“They tested you, but as you know, Dosothysomine doesn’t metabolize in the kidneys or liver, so it doesn’t show up in blood tests. I bribed Browner and a lab tech at the hospital to switch your results with another patient. I didn’t want you to go to prison, but if you realized you weren’t intoxicated, you would’ve started asking questions. I couldn’t risk losing FDA approval for Dosothysomine.”
“By drugging me, you set off a chain of events that ended up with my wife and unborn son dead!”
“It was an accident,” Thomas said, a bead of sweat rolling down his cheek. His hair stuck up in all directions as if he’d been pulling at the ends. He looked out of control and for a man waving a gun in his hand, that was a dangerous thing. “I never meant for anyone to get hurt. All I ever wanted was to help animals. Since Dosothysomine came to market, thousands of dogs and cats that would’ve otherwise died during surgery survived. My company has developed three other drugs that greatly improve animals’ lives. I have thousands of employees who depend on me for their livelihood. If you expose me—expose Dosothysomine—the company won’t survive. All those people will lose their jobs. I love you like a son, Cash, but you really shouldn’t have poked your nose into all this.”
Cash didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “You can’t believe you’re actually making animal lives better. Animals feel pain. Just because they don’t have the ability to communicate that fact or remember it later doesn’t make it right.”
Nothing Thomas did was for the animals.
It was greed, pure and simple.
Thomas’s fingers twitched on the gun. “I never wanted animals to suffer, but like I said before. It was for the greater good. The animals live longer, healthier lives because of me.”
“And what about Nancy and Laci? Did they also die for the greater good?” Cash asked, needing to get Thomas to admit his role in their deaths.
“Do you know how easy it was to get them each to accept a date from me just because I’m wealthy? Their deaths were your fault—yours and Dreama’s. If you had only stopped meddling, I wouldn’t have needed to kill them and frame you for their murders.”
Cash blew out a breath. “Did you get what you needed?” Cash asked.
The voice in his ear applied in the affirmative as the stomp of several people came up from behind him.
“Put the gun on the floor, put your hands in the air, and step back from the weapons,” Detective Henry ordered. “Thomas Lundquist, you’re under arrest for the murders of Laci London and Nancy Balsom.”
“You were wearing a wire?” Lundquist looked at Cash as if he’d betrayed him. “It doesn’t matter. There’s nothing that my money can’t fix. I’ll be out of jail by the end of the day.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Ryder said as he entered the room with Finn, who’d been the one to call Detective Henry. “Since I just sent your confession to all the major news outlets across the country.” A gifted techie, Ryder had used Cash’s phone to record the confession and through the guard’s computer, had downloaded it from the cloud and mass emailed it to over one hundred news organizations.
Once the police had Thomas in handcuffs, Cash hurried toward Dreama. Not far from where she lay, a panting Butch rested on his side with blood dripping down his chest. Someone called out for medical assistance for the dog as Cash took in the sight of Dreama.
Eerily pale, she was now on her back as two female EMS workers hovered over her. He didn’t see any blood, but she was way too still.
It took him three tries before he could get the words out. “Is she alive?”
The EMS worker with her fingers on Dreama’s pulse point met his eyes. “I can’t find a pulse.”
Cash fell to his knees.
His heart felt as if it were being ripped apart. This was all his fault. It was because of him that Thomas had set his sights on Dreama. He’d thought he’d been doing the right thing in pushing her away, but in the end, he couldn’t save her.
He’d made plenty of mistakes in his life, but the biggest one was not telling her how much he loved her.
And now he’d never get the chance.
THIRTY
Dreama awoke to a familiar steady beeping and the scent of disinfectant. Before she even opened her eyes, she knew she was in the hospital. She just didn’t remember why.
Her body felt heavy, much like she had when she’d had the flu last year. She catalogued the sensations of her body. She had a headache and the typical aches and pains leftover from her attack, but nothing else. And she didn’t have the numb feeling that morphine gave her.
The last thing she remembered was leaving Jane’s house to go get Butch. Had she gotten into a car accident on the way home?
“I think she’s waking up,” her mother said on a loud whisper.
Oh shit. Her mother was there.
Dreama’s eyes fluttered open. Her parents stood on the right side of the bed, both of them looking haggard. It was last year all over again, only this time she couldn’t even remember what had put her in the hospital.
“Thank God. We’ve been so worried about you,” her father said. He reached out as if he was going to touch her, then snatched back his hand. “You’ve been unconscious for twelve hours.”
“Hi,” Dreama said scratchily, her throat terribly dry. “What happened? How did I get here?”
“An ambulance brought you over from your apartment. Thomas tried to kill you,” Cash said from the other side of the bed.
She turned to look at him. If she wasn’t so confused, she might have freaked out that her parents and Cash were all in the same room. “Why don’t I remember?” she asked him.
He
curled his fingers around the bedrail. “He gave you a drug that causes amnesia. Dosothysomine. The same drug he gave to me the night of the accident.”
Her head pounded. That Doso…damned drug left her with a massive hangover. “You saved me?” Had they reconciled? Because she did remember him breaking up with her.
“Actually, you can thank Butch for that,” he said. “He attacked Thomas, buying us enough time to get to you.”
“Us?”
“Ryder, Finn, the police, EMS…It was a team effort.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal.
But it was a big deal. Because the Cash who’d broken up with her wouldn’t have accepted anyone else’s help. He would’ve insisted on saving her alone. “Butch got a little hurt in the battle, but Rebecca patched him up. He’ll be back home with you in no time.”
“I’m sorry,” her mom said. “Who’s Butch? Dreama, I thought you didn’t have a roommate?”
Dreama bit her lip to keep from laughing. “Butch is a dog, Mom.”
“You have a dog? They carry germs, you know.” Her mother leaned over and tucked Dreama’s hair behind her ear. “No matter. Your father and I have talked and we think in light of what’s happened, you should move back home. With your dog, of course.”
Oh no. She should’ve known this would be coming. Still a bit weak, she hit the button on the bed’s remote so that she could sit up. “I’m not moving home.”
Not unless she wanted her mom to drive her insane.
“Honey, you’ve been through too much.” Her mom took her hand and squeezed. “You need someone who will take care of you.”
“You’re underestimating your daughter,” Cash said. “She can take care of herself just fine.”
That’s not what he’d implied at the police station. When did he have a change of heart? Had she forgotten a conversation with him?
She really wished her parents would take a hike so she could talk to Cash in private. This amnesia thing was freaking annoying.
“I’m sorry,” her mother said sarcastically. “I’m her mother. I think I know her better than some friend she’s never mentioned.”
