Obsessed (The Lizzy Gardner Series)

by T. R. Ragan

  “Did Wolf agree to help?”

  “No. I don’t think so.”

  “Did they say anything about where Rosie is?”

  “Placerville. That’s all I know.”

  “Why would Wolf care about Brian Rosie?” Jessica knew why, but she wanted to see how much Kiki was willing to tell her.

  “I’d rather not say. I’m just letting you know that if you want to help your friend, you might want to find out where she’s going so you can call the cops on Brian Rosie.”

  Now they were getting somewhere. Kiki obviously thought she was helping Wolf by calling her, figuring Jessica would hunt down Brian Rosie and that would take care of all of Wolf’s problems.

  Jessica had no problem calling the police. But first she needed to know where they could find Brian Rosie. “Where is Hayley now?”

  “She left a little while ago. Someone’s coming. I need to go.”

  Jessica’s heartbeat kicked up a notch. She needed to find Hayley and talk her out of doing anything crazy. She also needed an address so she could let the feds do what they did best.

  She gathered her coat and her purse, then ran into the other room. Ironic, she thought, that there was a DEA agent standing right in front of her, but she didn’t have time to explain everything to him. If she didn’t find Hayley, it would all be worthless information anyway.

  “You’re leaving?”

  “Sorry, gotta go,” she told Magnus. “Lock up when you leave, will you?”

  CHAPTER 71

  Hayley led Wolf’s men to the area of the fence where Tommy had gone through. Single file, they made their way to the other side. Hayley watched Wolf’s guys cut away from her to the left, toward the side of the building where Brian’s men had taken Tommy.

  Hayley wanted to check on Tommy, but there was no way to get to him. She had no choice but to trust Wolf’s thugs to take Brian’s men out. She watched them disappear around the corner. Within seconds, she heard gunfire rip through the night.

  She had to work fast.

  Following the outline of the building, she located a back door. She’d figured it would be locked, but she hadn’t counted on the door being made of galvanized steel. She removed her backpack and pulled out the explosive device that Kitally had made from materials she’d accumulated from the Bay Area demolition company her father co-owned. Hoping it would be powerful enough to get the door open, she pressed the claylike body of the explosive under the gap in the door, then set the detonator and wires just as Kitally had shown her. Then she unraveled the wire, ran back into the woods and crouched down behind the trunk of a tree, and hit the remote.

  Seconds felt like hours.

  Boom!

  The door flew open, bounced off the outside wall. Pieces of metal framing crashed to the ground. The main block of steel dangled from one bottom hinge.

  Hayley was on her feet, gun drawn, ready to fire as she moved in. Finding the stairwell inside the door quiet, she moved to the top of the landing.

  Another door. Shit.

  Pissed off and revved up, she pulled out a semiautomatic and pulled the trigger four times before the lock busted through and the door opened. Gun aimed straight ahead, she headed inside.

  A television was on. Two empty glasses on the table in front of a black leather couch. Johnny Cash was displayed on the sixty-inch screen. Dressed in black, he played the “Folsom Prison Blues.”

  She could go right or left. She went left. Taking quiet steps around the room, she checked closets and looked behind furniture as she went.

  A picture on the wall reflected movement in the kitchen where she was headed. Someone was waiting.

  The figure moved.

  She dove to the floor, somersaulting across the floor.

  Gunfire exploded around her. The glass table shattered next to her; chunks of wall blew up around her as she ran in the other direction and threw herself through the first door she came to. It was a bedroom: a dresser, bed, and a nightstand. No windows. She ripped open her front pouch, pulled out a smoke grenade, released the lever and tossed it in the other room.

  Within minutes, the gunfire stopped.

  She pulled a gas mask from her pouch and fitted it to her face just as she heard coughing in the other room.

  Not wanting to give the shooter time to regain control, she crawled toward him beneath the thick fog of smoke until she could see his legs. As he hacked and coughed, she Tasered him in the calf muscle. He dropped, writhing, to the floor.

  As the smoke began to clear, she saw a slight figure on the other side of him go for his gun. Hayley lunged for it, too, ramming her elbow into her opponent’s jaw as they fought over it, the blow hard enough for her to gain control of the weapon and draw a bead on the figure’s chest. It was a woman. Hayley told her to lie on the floor, face down. Instead, the woman ran past her and exited through the back door.

  Most of the smoke had cleared. Hayley made quick work of cuffing the guy with his hands behind his back. She didn’t recognize him. It definitely wasn’t Brian. She checked his pockets for an ID. Merrick Waldron. The name meant nothing to her.

  She dropped his wallet, left him there and headed for the stairs leading to the top floor.

  There were three rooms. Two were empty. The door to the other was locked. It took two bullets to get it open.

  Gun raised, she dropped to a knee and ducked her head into the doorway once, twice, and again. It was an office. No sign of anyone in the room, though the mahogany desk or the corners out of sight could conceal someone.

  She took a breath, gathering herself. Another exchange of gunfire sounded outside, and she thought about Tommy, although she knew there was nothing she could do for him at the moment.

  The office proved empty. A wall of security screens revealed Wolf’s men fighting it out with Brian’s thugs.

  There was a closed closet door across from her.

  She padded over to it and ripped it open, ready to fire. Nobody was inside.

  There was only one place left—the bathroom. She tried the knob. Locked. “Don’t be shy, Brian. You knew this day was coming.”

  No answer.

  “Don’t make me blow this door open. I’m counting to three. One, two—”

  The door came open.

  There he was.

  Brian Rosie in the flesh. He wore a silk robe. His arms were raised. He was, impossibly, unarmed. It was like a dream for Hayley, seeing him standing there, absolutely at her mercy.

  Snap out of it. This was Brian Rosie. He looked the same. He hadn’t changed a bit. He wasn’t unarmed. Or maybe another shooter hid behind the bathroom door.

  It wouldn’t matter. His mistake was thinking she’d hesitate to finish him.

  Arms locked before her, she raised the gun and drew a bead on the center of his forehead. She’d show him more mercy than he showed her mother.

  “Don’t do it, Hayley!”

  What the fuck? Hayley chanced a glance behind her at the familiar sound of Jessica’s voice before snapping back around and resecuring her aim on Brian’s forehead. “Are you pointing that gun at me?” she demanded.

  “Drop the gun, Hayley.” She wasn’t denying it. Jessica was drawing down on her. “I’m not letting you spend the rest of your life in jail for killing this piece of shit. It’s not going to happen.”

  “You’re fucking kidding me, right?” Jessica would have to pry the gun from Hayley’s cold, dead hands if she wanted it bad enough. She’d come too far to let it end like this.

  “I mean it, Hayley. Put your gun down and step away.”

  What had been a dream had become some sort of bizarre nightmare. Knowing Jessica had both of them covered, Hayley lowered her weapon and turned toward Jessica, ready to tear her a new one.

  “Watch out!”

  Hayley spun around in time to see Brian had gone f
or the gun holstered beneath his robe. Before he could tear it free, Jessica put two bullets into his chest. He staggered back into the bathroom, then went over hard, his head smacking against the tile floor.

  Hayley walked over to him, then knelt down and felt for a pulse.

  He was dead.

  It was over. She turned toward Jessica. “You bitch.”

  Jessica’s face puckered. “What did you say?”

  “You fucking bitch.” Hayley marched up to Jessica and put a finger on her chest. “Who do you think you are?”

  Jessica slapped her hand away and then slid her gun into its holster. “I just killed a man. Could you give me a minute?”

  “No. I won’t. Do you know how long I’ve waited for this day?”

  “What were you going to do, Hayley? Shoot the man while he stood there with raised hands? You didn’t even know if he had a gun.”

  Hayley stabbed her finger at her own head. “Use some logic for once in your life, Jessica. Of course he had a gun.”

  Sirens sounded in the distance.

  A caustic laugh came out of Jessica’s mouth. “Your goal was accomplished. Maybe not by your hand, but who cares?”

  “I care.”

  “I’ll probably get written up, if that makes you feel better.”

  Hayley said nothing, consumed with trying to swallow her anger. It wouldn’t stay down.

  Jessica just stood there.

  Police used a bullhorn to announce their arrival, telling everyone to come out with both hands raised in the air where they could see them.

  Without another word spoken, Jessica turned and walked out of the room.

  After watching her leave, Hayley walked back to where Brian lay in a growing pool of blood.

  She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Her heart beat against her rib cage. Brian was dead, but she didn’t feel any different. Evil swirled around her, a supernatural force, alive and thriving. The coppery, metallic taste in her mouth was still there. As she watched a continuous flow of blood turn his robe red, she realized Brian’s death wasn’t enough. It hadn’t solved anything.

  The realization caused her to stiffen with resolve.

  She would fight . . . not her inner demons, but every piece-of-shit rapist dirtbag walking the earth.

  Until her dying breath, she would fight.

  CHAPTER 72

  “Mom, look at Hayley. She’s all dressed up.”

  Hayley watched Hudson run toward her as she and Dog came down her steps, the kid’s attention already transferred entirely to the mutt. Hudson threw himself to his knees and Dog bounded over to him to bathe his face with his slobbery tongue as he hugged him and laughed.

  Becca came out of the house carrying a large cardboard box that she loaded into the trunk of her car parked right outside the door. She took a moment to look at Hayley and see what all the fuss was about. “Well, would you look at that? Is the pope visiting and I’m the last to hear about it?”

  “Just a wedding.” Hayley gestured toward the car, already filled to the brim with boxes and crates. “What’s going on?”

  Becca planted both hands on her hips. “We’re moving in with my sister and her kids for a while. She has a farm in Ojai. I think it’s time Hudson and I had a change of scenery.”

  “Sounds like the perfect setting for a dog named Dog.”

  Hudson grinned, his big eyes praying for a miracle.

  “I thought someone else was taking him,” Becca said.

  Hayley shook her head. “Dog didn’t like the kids pulling on his ears and on what little bit of tail he has left, so I told them I changed my mind.”

  She gave Hudson the leash, and he knew what to do. He followed Dog to a little patch of grass.

  “Are you sure you want to part ways with him?” Becca asked.

  “Yeah, he’s more of a nuisance than anything else.”

  Becca grabbed paper and pen from the car and scribbled something down. “Here’s our address if you ever want to visit Dog. And just so you know, I plan to get a job and pay you back every penny I owe you.”

  “No need,” Hayley said. “Put it toward dog food.”

  “I’m selling the house, but until then, the apartment is yours.”

  “I think it’s time for me to make a few changes, too.”

  Becca looked around, her face pinched as if there was more she wanted to say but couldn’t find the words.

  “Take care of them, will you?” Hayley asked.

  Becca nodded, her eyes glistening.

  CHAPTER 73

  Lizzy was in her car, heading for home. This was her wedding day and a beautiful day it was. The December sun was out, shedding its wintry light on her little part of the world. She felt dizzy with happiness, a sentiment that boggled the mind, considering she’d never thought the day would come when she would feel this way.

  Lizzy was almost home when her sister called. She hit the answer button on her console and said hello.

  “We’re all here at the church,” Cathy said. “Are you on your way?”

  “I had to run to the store to pick up the gift I ordered for Jared. I’ll be home in a few minutes to grab my dress and then I’ll be on my way.”

  Cathy sighed. “Sure, don’t let your own wedding rush you.”

  “I’ll get there. My makeup’s all done.”

  “Has been since you got out of bed this morning.”

  Unfazed by her sister’s teasing, she laughed. “This is true.”

  Another sigh from Cathy. Lizzy hoped she wasn’t about to get all emotional—mainly because she wasn’t sure of her own ability to stave off tears if Cathy started. Everything about the day so far had felt surreal.

  “OK, Cath,” Lizzy said. “Just a few more blocks. I’m hanging up before—”

  “Lizzy, I realize this isn’t a good time to tell you this, but I wanted you to know that I flew to Oregon and met our half sister, Michelle.”

  Lizzy didn’t know what to say.

  “She’s a lovely person. Her daughter, Emma, is adorable. They can’t wait to meet you.”

  All right, even more surreal. Lizzy’s throat had closed up tight.

  “Are you still there, Lizzy?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Are you crying? You are, aren’t you? I’m sorry. I should have waited.”

  “No, no. I’m glad you told me. These are happy tears.”

  “I’m sorry, Lizzy. Sorry for all the pain and suffering you’ve endured . . . sorry for not being there for you when you needed a shoulder to cry on. And I’m proud of you, too. I couldn’t have asked for a better sister. I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” Lizzy said, trying to keep it together but losing the battle. Thank God she was home. She pulled in the garage and shut off the engine before she looked at her face in the rearview mirror. “Great. Now I do need to do my makeup. My nose is red and my eyes are puffy. I look horrible.”

  Cathy laughed. “Grab your dress and get to the church. All of your girls are here. We’ll fix you up.”

  “Thanks.”

  They hung up. Lizzy wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. She glanced at the watch she’d had engraved for Jared. She’d also made a book of memories the two of them had shared over the years and had it professionally bound in leather.

  She shook her head at how ridiculous it was that she’d made Jared spend the night in a hotel last night, since it was bad luck to see the bride before the wedding ceremony. Then she saw the time. She needed to get moving.

  Leaving the gifts in the car, she climbed out and hurried inside to get her things.

  As she walked through the home where she and Jared had lived for the past two years, she breathed in the life they had built together and felt content as she made her way upstairs to the master bedroom. She went to the bed and wrapped her a
rms around Jared’s pillow, breathing in his scent and smiling at this unfamiliar mushy side of herself.

  There it was again . . . that crazy, intangible thing called happiness flowing through her veins.

  She opened the door to the walk-in closet and grabbed her dress. She walked into the bathroom next to get her makeup and accessories needed for her big day.

  A noise sounded downstairs. She stood still. Listened.

  Nothing.

  Three weeks ago, Madeline had been murdered in her home. Although there were no witnesses and no evidence found, Seth Brown was assumed to be the culprit. His last victim before attempting to add Lizzy and Kitally to the list. His wife, Janelle Brown, had been questioned and investigated, but there was no proof that she’d had any knowledge of her husband’s activities, so she’d been sent home. She’d struck Lizzy as a strange woman—that shock of white hair, those angry eyes—but still, her heart went out to her. What could it possibly be like to live alone in the house you’d unknowingly shared with a madman? All that sadness turned loose on the world by one damaged man. Lizzy was saddened above all to think she hadn’t been able to save Madeline, but she was thankful she’d at least been able to prove that Madeline had had nothing to do with her friends’ demises.

  Lizzy looked into the mirror. “No more jumping at every sound,” she told herself. “It’s over. It’s all over. Today you’re going to marry the man of your dreams. When you walk up that aisle, your only care is making sure Jared knows how much you love him.” After her speech, despite her determination not to freak out at every noise, she walked out of the bedroom, leaned over the railing and looked around.

  Nobody was there.

  Sending Jared away for the night had been a mistake. She missed him.

  Back in the bedroom, she made a pile on the bed of the things she would need. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand and realized she was barely going to make it in time. Grabbing her cell phone, she called Jared.

  Her heart drummed against her chest as she took a seat on the chair in the corner of the room and waited for him to pick up.

  As Jared walked from the parking lot to the church, he looked at his phone to see if he’d missed any calls. He wanted to call Lizzy, but he was pretty sure that was against the wedding-day rules. No sooner had the thought gone through his mind than his phone began to ring.