by CJ Lyons
Luka’s recognition must have shown. Jack crouched down to Luka’s eye level, peering at Luka as if he were an insect under a magnifying glass. “Now you remember.”
“Soccer ball.”
“Yeah, that’s right. You thought I missed, but I hit exactly what I was aiming at.”
“You were—fifteen?”
“Seventeen. Hadn’t had my growth spurt yet.” He stroked his chin. “That came later, after I left for the army. But Cherise didn’t mind. She saw my potential, the person I was destined to be. Said I was smart, clever, that sports weren’t everything.”
Typical Cherise, always finding the best in people. Was that what got her killed?
“Why?” Luka asked the question that had haunted him for seventeen years.
“You, Luka. She rejected me. Not because I was too young or too short or too skinny. Because she said she could only love you.” He stood again, towering over Luka. “Do you have any idea how many people I’ve killed because she said no? Because of you?” Jack motioned with his gun. “Get up. I expect you want to know everything that happened to Cherise. Well, I’m going to show you.”
Given the handcuffs restraining his wrists behind his back, Luka was forced to leverage his weight against the couch—taking care to avoid the dead man’s legs—in order to push himself to standing.
“Massimo,” Luka said, trying to buy time. “Did he know?”
“Not until two seconds before I killed him,” Jack answered jovially, one professional sharing trade secrets with another. “But, goodness me, doesn’t he make the perfect fall guy? Had you fooled, all of you.”
They moved across the room, leaving Massimo’s body behind. “And Trudy? Why did you kill her? It obviously wasn’t part of your plan.”
Jack jerked Luka’s arm angrily. “Damn woman wouldn’t stop chattering about seeing me in Smithfield. I couldn’t risk her telling Risa and Risa putting two and two together once word got out about the guy I’d killed in Smithfield. After all, I was meant to be a hundred miles away that day.”
Finally, it all clicked. “Your job. Environmental compliance—”
“Sends me all over. I go where the job takes me, grab a map, throw the dice and let chance guide me from there. Never the same place twice, never the same type of killing twice. I could’ve kept going for the rest of my life if it wasn’t for Trudy.”
They reached the front door. Jack opened it, the hollow echo of the rain drumming on the portico roof forcing Luka to raise his voice. “Except it wasn’t all random, was it? Not after you targeted Risa.”
“Risa.” Jack spoke her name like a sigh whispered in church. “I couldn’t hide from her, didn’t want to—I wanted to share everything with her. I knew she’d see my genius, would fall in love with Chaos as much as she had plain old Jack. With time.” He nudged Luka with the gun. “Time we don’t have anymore. Thanks to you.” Jack led Luka back out to where the van and the Honda sat. “That’s good. Stop there.”
Stall, just stall, Luka thought. How much time had passed already?
“Was raining even worse than this, that night with Cherise.” Jack continued his commentary. “A bit warmer, too. But that’s okay.”
“Why make it look like a suicide?” Luka kept his tone calm, casual, concealing any hint of his rage—and his fear. He turned to face Jack. If he was going to die, it would be facing his killer, not from a bullet to the back.
Jack’s mouth twisted as he considered the question. “You know, I didn’t go out there expecting to hurt anyone. I let the air out of her tire during her little study group. Then I followed her. I thought I’d be her Prince Charming, coming to her rescue when her tire went flat. Thought she’d be so happy to see me. And she was. At first.”
Cherise always had a good nose for bullshit. Luka bet she saw right through whatever story teenaged Jack had tried to feed her about his happening along just at the right time that night.
“Then,” Jack continued, “she tried to drive off. But I jumped into her car with her, took the keys. I tried to tell her how I felt, but she kept screaming and fighting. Wouldn’t give me a chance, and she was just so damned loud, I had to shut her up—”
“You strangled her.” The words tasted of ash and sorrow. Luka fought the urge to charge the other man—a suicide mission, but if it silenced the roaring rage filling him, seventeen years’ worth of fury and anguish, it might be worth it.
“First time I ever hurt anyone. It felt—” Jack’s eyes shone in the overhead light, while the rain continued its drumming against the portico’s roof. “It felt… glorious. If you’ve never done it, killed someone just for the pure pleasure of seeing the life—all their hopes and dreams—drain from their eyes, well, you just can’t understand.” He shook his head as if pitying Luka. “You’ll never understand. And just like sex, the first time—it’s always special. You never forget it. My Cherise. She was so much more mine than she ever was yours.”
Luka bit back his retort. He was no longer the college kid who’d lost the love of life, lost their future together, no longer the boy dreaming of being a poet, using words to inspire and change the world. No. Jack O’Brien might not realize it, but Luka was in charge here.
All he had to do was hold the fort until backup arrived.
Jack led Luka to the van, opened the passenger door, and pushed him onto the seat. Then Jack took the driver’s seat. He turned on the ignition. “It was easier with Cherise. You remember, where she went in? The hill leading down to the bluff overlooking the river. All it took was a bit of a nudge.”
He hit the gas, deliberately moving the vehicle forward until the van’s bumper touched the rear of the Honda. Then he kept accelerating slowly as the sedan began to roll forward, heading toward the river. It slowed as it hit the muddy grass beyond the gravel, but Jack merely sped up, the larger vehicle propelling the smaller one.
“With Cherise I was so worried about leaving evidence. It’s why I almost didn’t take her ring. But I couldn’t resist—I needed a piece of her, something to remember her by.” He glanced at Luka. “Smartest thing I did that night. It sold the story. Broken engagement, distraught lover flinging her ring into the river, betrayed by her man, using his own book of poetry to send a final message. Give people a mystery and they want to solve it. But give them a story and they’re satisfied, stop looking for answers. Even heartbroken Luka Jericho. Didn’t hurt that everyone blamed you.”
The Honda came to a stop mere yards away from the river. Jack tried a gentle nudge from the van, but the other vehicle barely moved. Luka held his breath, hoping the Honda’s wheels were caught in the mud or on an unseen tree trunk or any obstacle that would make Jack see the risk was too large, abandon his plan.
“It’s how I’ve been able to keep playing my game all these years—no one suspected me, not ever.” Jack threw the car into reverse and backed up.
“Until you decided you needed an audience,” Luka said. “Someone who would appreciate your brilliance, even if she had no idea who you were.”
“My beautiful, brilliant Risa. She surprised even me, how quickly she became obsessed with Chaos. Have to say, it felt weird, I was actually jealous of my alter ego, she spent so much time and energy on him. But you’re wrong. I didn’t do it for the attention. I did it to save Risa. I hadn’t realized how devastated she’d be after she couldn’t travel anymore. So I fixed that for her. Just like I saved her from ever again running into danger simply to chase down a story.”
Luka turned to Jack, forcing himself to act surprised. “You’re the one making Risa sick?”
“I am a chemist. With access to any number of industrial poisons. Things no doctor would ever dream of testing for. If you’re smart and careful, you can create any symptom you want in a person.”
“But why?” Luka was doing more than stalling. If he got out of this, Leah would need as many details as possible to treat Risa.
“She couldn’t focus on me—the real me—if she was galivanting around the wor
ld writing her stories, now could she? I needed her home, dependent. On me. But Risa, she’s like a thoroughbred, strong, stubborn, so independent. So I had to… break her.”
“By dosing her with poisons?”
Jack merely shrugged.
“You were meant to be at the hospital with Risa and Leah—”
“I was.”
It was clear Jack wouldn’t harm Risa, but… “Where’s Leah?”
“Safe. For now.” Jack’s lips thinned as if daring Luka to ask again, to beg or plead for Leah’s life.
Luka didn’t give him what he so obviously wanted, instead moving to another subject. “How’d you fake the live streaming video from this morning? Vogel’s death?”
“I see what you’re doing.” Jack chuckled. “Pretending to be interested, stalling. As if that would save you.” He gunned the van. It roared forward, rammed the sedan, forcing it to the water’s edge. “I don’t mind. The video was child’s play. I simply changed the clock on the camera, synced it to when I had the text scheduled to be sent, drove back to Risa’s and waited.”
“What’s the story you’re telling with all this, Jack?” Luka asked. Get him talking about himself, the one topic he couldn’t resist.
“The story of a podunk cop who stumbled across a serial killer and let him get away with murder.” Jack reversed the van again.
“Kill us and the police will never stop looking for you.”
“Not me. Dominic—thanks to his DNA and prints being all over the crime scene. Believe me, no one will ever find his body. As for poor Jack O’Brien, they’ll find plenty of evidence on Dom’s computer that he’s been stalking Jack for years, was obsessed with Risa—also his motive for killing poor, stupid Cliff. After tonight everyone will believe Jack was one more victim of the Chaos Killer, Dominic Massimo.”
He nudged the gas and hit the Honda, ramming its front wheels into the water.
Jack slammed the brakes. With his hands behind his back, Luka was jolted into the dashboard. When he caught his breath and was able to push himself back upright in the seat, Jack had reversed the van a few yards, far enough for the headlights to offer a good view of the sedan, its front bumper lashed by the rushing water.
“Perfect,” Jack said with a grin. Then he surprised Luka by jumping out and dancing through the rain to Luka’s side of the car. He opened Luka’s door, grabbed his arm, and jerked him out of the seat. Luka went sprawling into the mud, Jack standing over him.
“Poor, pitiful Luka. The wannabe poet turned wannabe cop—as if carrying a badge would give you what you really need.”
“And what’s that?”
“Power. You wrap yourself in guilt, as if you had any control over Cherise’s life or death. You mope around all sad about losing the love of your life when there are plenty of women out there, if you’d just stand up and take one.”
Luka forced himself to a sitting position, ignoring the rain and mud soaking his slacks, ignoring the gun in Jack’s hand. There was a way out of this, he just needed time to think. “Like you’re taking Risa?”
“Risa is different. She understands me—but she’s not afraid. She sees my power and she wants to know more, not run away. That’s what makes her special. Different from all the rest of you. You’re all so blind, willing to let fate, destiny, God, whatever, control your lives, like you’re rats in a maze. Well, I am Fate, I am Destiny, I am God. And it’s your turn to play my game, Luka.”
Jack dangled a key ring with a handcuff key above Luka’s head. “If you want to save your friend, Dr. Wright…” He nodded to the Honda straddling the river’s edge. “Just say the word. Your choice, Luka. Come after me, try to stop me—or play the hero. Which will it be?”
He was bluffing, Luka thought. Because… because Jack lied. Maybe he’d never even taken Leah, maybe she was already dead. But could Luka risk that? “Give me the key.”
When Jack didn’t move, Luka pushed himself up to his feet and lunged toward Jack. “I said, give me the key.”
“Sure, Luka.” Jack’s grin gleamed in the glare of the headlights. He pocketed the handcuff key. “But first, I need to buy some time. Come with me.”
He led Luka to the driver’s side door of the Honda, their feet sinking into the mud and gravel of the riverbank. All the windows on the Honda were down, Luka saw.
Jack kept his pistol trained on Luka as he opened the door, shoved Luka into the driver’s seat, and threaded Luka’s handcuffs through the steering wheel. Then he tossed the handcuff key into the back seat. “As promised, the key is all yours. It’s been fun, Luka.”
Jack raced through the rain back to the van, gunned the engine, and rammed the sedan one final time, sending it fully into the water.
Forty-Eight
The footsteps above Leah faded away without anyone coming near to the door. She returned to Risa, pulled the hood off her head, and crouched down beside her. “Risa. It’s Jack. It has to be.”
“No.” Her face creased in confusion. “No, it can’t be. He loves me, he’s helped me—”
“Think. He’s a chemist, easy access to toxins, knows exactly how much to give you to make you sick and dependent on him. He’s gotten you to move away from your friends in New York—”
“No. That was my idea.”
“He planted it, I’m certain. He’s isolated you from everyone, kept you from traveling and doing the work you love, and who else would have easy access to your computer files and all your new assignments?” Risa’s eyes were tearing up but with her hands still restrained, Leah had to wipe her tears for her. “I’m sorry. But it’s him.”
“Jack killed Trudy?” Her voice trembled.
“He has a key to the Falconer, right? And Trudy knew him, wouldn’t think twice about seeing him up on your floor or letting him get close. He knew about the childproof locks and how to entice Walt out, frame him for Trudy’s murder.”
“But—why kill Cliff?”
“I think he was angry about Cliff spying on you. Plus, it helped him to frame Dom. Jack knew he had to get rid of Dom and he had to establish an alibi for himself, but he also knew that nicotine has a short half-life and quick onset. So he knocked you out with the GHB, went to Dom’s hotel, grabbed him and Cliff, and set up the camera in the car.”
“It couldn’t be Jack. No, I don’t believe it.”
“He’s a chemist, Risa. He would know about nicotine poisoning, have access to all sorts of other toxins, even know how to make GHB.”
“No!” Risa’s voice rose as she grasped for one final lifeline. “No. It’s not Jack. You were there with both of us when the video came in.”
“Cliff was killed hours before we saw the video. I think maybe Jack had the message with the video scheduled to send at a certain time. Then he made sure I was there to witness its arrival. It wasn’t just you, he had us all fooled.”
Risa sniffed, and fell against Leah’s arms as if finally surrendering to the truth. “I thought I loved him.”
“You loved the man he pretended to be, the man he wanted you to see. It’s not your fault.”
“Yes, it is.” She pulled back. “How many people did he kill because of me? How many innocent lives am I responsible for?”
“Zero.” Leah kept her tone firm. “This is not your fault.”
“What do we do?” Risa asked.
“We play to his weakness, just like we planned. But I need you to be strong, Risa. Can you do that? And face him?” Risa nodded, sniffed, rubbed her cheek against her collar. The sound of a door slamming and footsteps sounded from upstairs. This time Leah heard only one man’s steps.
“I can do it. Put the hood back on,” Risa said.
“We’re going to get out of here, Risa. Tell him the truth. Tell him that you know. Don’t try to pretend. Be honest with him, shout his name as soon as he opens the door. Maybe he’ll drop his guard, rush right into our trap.”
The footsteps grew closer. Leah crossed back to her position beside the stairs, fumbling to find the loose
end of the paracord. The door above opened.
“Jack! Jack, let me out right now! I know it’s you!” Risa’s shouts echoed from the cement walls.
Light spilled in through the open door and Leah spied the paracord. The man at the top hesitated for a moment.
“Jack! I know what you’ve done!”
The man sprinted down the steps and Leah jerked the cord taut just as his front foot landed and his back foot was raised. The force of his body striking it almost tore it from her hands. Then he was flying, twisted, tumbling, arms flailing to grab hold of the railing. He landed on the floor with a thud.
“Run, Leah,” Risa called. “Hurry!”
Leah didn’t need to wait to be told. She cautiously skirted Jack’s body—he wasn’t dead, was moaning and struggling to push himself up. She reached the first step and was pushing off for the next one when a jolt of electricity hit her, surging through every muscle.
The pain stole her breath. Inside her head she was screaming even though she couldn’t make a sound. She felt Jack’s hand grip her ankle. Then the pain stopped, and her body went limp, falling against the concrete floor. She lay there gasping. Jack stood over her, holding the stun gun in one hand, wrapping his other arm around his ribs.
“There’s only one reason why you’re alive.” He drew a foot back and kicked her in the side. “But there’s plenty of ways to punish you without killing you. You might want to keep that in mind, Leah.”
“Jack, stop it.” Risa shook free of her hood and even in the dim light from the open door her furious glare held the power to make Jack forget about Leah. He stepped toward Risa, a small grunt of pain as he put his weight on his left ankle.
“Haven’t you done enough?” Risa demanded. “Untie me and let her go.”
“When did you know? How long?” He sounded angry that his deception had been discovered.
“I’m not stupid. Or maybe I am. Maybe I should have figured it out a long time ago.”
