“Sadie.”
She froze. It was the same throaty whisper from her bedroom the night the power had gone out, the same voice she’d heard in the hallway of Mrs. Wapple’s house. Sadie was instantly washed with a cold sweat.
“Help me, Sadie,” the voice said. “Help me!”
Sadie couldn’t breathe, and then the voice laughed, this time sounding just like Jane.
“You think you can hide from me, Sadie? You think you can get away from me?”
Sadie pressed her back against the tree. The fog and dark shadows of the copse of trees she’d found refuge in made it impossible to see much of her surroundings. And yet, Jane couldn’t be far away. How had she found her? Did she truly know where Sadie was?
“I can hear your heart racing, Sadie,” Jane said, her voice coming from Sadie’s left. Sadie shrunk against the tree even more. “I can smell the fear on your breath.”
Sadie closed her mouth and stayed absolutely still, fear pricking at every part of her. It had seemed like such a good idea to get out of the car when she did. But had she put herself in an even more dangerous position by showing that she’d seen through Jane’s game? Would a better opportunity have presented itself if she’d stayed in the car and kept playing along?
“Why have you made things so difficult, Sadie?” Jane said. She was closer, but on Sadie’s other side. “Can’t you see that I did all of this for you? Haven’t you realized that even if you did get away from me, I’d find you again?”
“Sadie!”
Pete!
It was all Sadie could do not to call out for him. As it was, her whole body responded and tears came to her eyes. Jane was closer than he was, though. If Sadie called out to him, Jane would get to her first. She was sure of it.
“Sadie, we’re here,” Pete’s voice called out. “It’s going to be okay. Stay where you are.”
Jane had fallen silent, but Sadie heard a shuffle of leaves to her left. Too close to be Pete. More movement could be heard in the distance, though. Pete had said “We’re here,” so he must have other officers with him. All Sadie could do was wait to be found. As quietly and carefully as she could, she bent down and removed the remaining clog from her foot. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it was all she had to defend herself.
More movement to her left, closer. Her heart was in her throat. She couldn’t breathe. She could hear the murmur of men’s voices, but they weren’t loud enough for her to gauge their distance from her. She closed her eyes and tried to stay calm, but her whole body was beginning to shake and the pain she’d held at bay was coming back. She had to let her left arm rest in her lap in order to hold up the shoe.
“Sadie,” Pete said again, but his voice was further away. She nearly called out again. “Hang in there, Sadie, we’re coming.”
Another shuffle of leaves to her left convinced her she couldn’t stay. She might have to find Pete herself instead of hoping for rescue. The idea of moving was terrifying, but she had no choice. He was going the wrong way. If he got out of earshot, she’d be more lost than ever. She tried to move as slowly as possible, mindful of how easy it would be for her to make the slightest noise and draw Jane’s attention.
She had only just gotten to her feet when a hand snaked around her and pressed over her mouth and nose before she could manage a scream. The hand pulled her backward and, though she kicked and tried to break free, within seconds she was on her back on the leaf-covered dirt. She swung the shoe wildly and made contact, but in the next instant, the shoe was ripped from her hand and Jane Seeley was pressing a knee into Sadie’s chest. Sadie couldn’t breathe, and she clawed at Jane’s arm with her good hand until Jane repositioned her hand so that only Sadie’s mouth was covered. Sadie inhaled as deeply as she could through her nose, fighting for air, fighting to keep her thoughts above the panic.
The blade of Jane’s slender, silver knife was suddenly inches from Sadie’s face. Not long ago, the knife had cut through the bindings around Sadie’s hands. Now it held her captive. “I suppose sometimes ignorance really is bliss,” Jane whispered, her voice deceptively sweet. She turned the blade, causing the muted light to dull and catch depending on the angle. “On the other hand, when someone knows too much . . .” She lowered the blade, and Sadie felt the cold metal press against her neck, just below her right ear. “Well, we run out of options rather quickly, don’t we?”
Sadie wanted to close her eyes, but she didn’t dare. She instead stayed very still, hoping to give Jane a false sense of victory. And yet, did Sadie have the strength to make a final attempt at escape? Between the pain in her body and the fear in her mind, she felt powerless and completely spent.
“All I wanted was to matter,” Jane said. “All I wanted was to be important to you, but you couldn’t do it, could you? You forced my hand, Sadie. You made me do things I hadn’t wanted to do in order to get your attention, your allegiance. And yet you still withheld your gratitude, didn’t you?”
Is that how it happened? When Sadie hadn’t embraced Jane, had Jane raised the stakes bit by bit? But it had fallen apart tonight. Jane had planned Gabrielle’s attack, the abduction, and Sadie’s triumphant rescue, but Sadie had figured it out. What if Sadie hadn’t? What if it had gone as smoothly as Jane had expected it to?
Sadie’s body began to shake again. Jane’s knee on her chest allowed only shallow breaths. She worried she would lose consciousness. Jane smiled. “But I’ll settle for your fear,” she said, a hiss in her voice. “I’ll settle for the look of absolute horror in your eyes. I’ve played my hand flawlessly, Sadie. You, on the other hand, are going to lose the game entirely.”
She lifted the knife, and Sadie had a clear view of what was about to happen. She threw herself to the side as quickly and as hard as she could, but she was unable to deflect the knife entirely and white-hot pain ripped through her right side. Jane lost her balance and had to take her hand off Sadie’s mouth. Sadie screamed, but not a moment later, something knocked Jane to the ground.
“Get out of here, Sadie,” Pete’s voice said.
“Pete?” she cried out, her whole body hot with pain.
“Go!”
Sadie tried to move away, but her battered body wouldn’t respond the way she told it to. She gasped for air.
She heard a grunt and a curse and turned her head enough to make out two bodies wrestling to the side of her. Sadie screamed “Help!” to get the attention of the other officers while she grabbed at the ground in an attempt to pull herself away. “Help us!”
The scuffle beside her continued, but she heard the sound of approaching footsteps through the trees. “Over here!” she called. Another grunt, a hit, and then the sound of quickly retreating footsteps. First one set, and then another.
“You’ll never be free of me, Sadie,” Jane’s voice said, trailing away. “Never!”
Sadie screamed as a hand touched her arm, and she looked up into the face of an unfamiliar officer. “Stay where you are,” he said, and took off, presumably in the direction of Jane and Pete. Another officer took his place almost immediately, his flashlight beam moving over her body to assess her injuries.
“Ah you Sadie Hoffmillah?”
Sadie nodded, but could feel consciousness begging her to let go. “I’ve been stabbed in the side,” she gasped, glad she’d been able to turn enough that the blow wouldn’t have hit anything vital. “Pete Cunningham is in pursuit.”
“We know,” he said. The faintest sound of sirens could be heard cutting through the fog, but Sadie couldn’t allow herself to relax. Pete was still out there, and he didn’t know what Jane was capable of.
A minute later, beams of flashlights bounced toward her through the fog as she felt her thoughts getting fuzzy. A minute after that she was loaded on a gurney by the paramedics and carried out of the woods. She kept looking for Pete, waiting for him to come back and assure her that everything was okay, but he didn’t appear before the ambulance doors were closed. The EMTs started an IV, applied pressure to th
e gash in her side, and put an oxygen mask over her mouth. The ambulance was pulling away from the curb as Jane’s words still echoed in her head: “You’ll never be free of me, Sadie. Never!”
Chapter 41
It was late, but Sadie didn’t know how late; everything had happened so fast. Detective Lucille had met Sadie at the hospital. There were questions asked and answers given. She was assured that Pete was okay, but had overheard two officers discussing the fact that Jane had gotten away. Now that Sadie was alone in her hospital room and the pain medication had started to take effect, she had trouble recalling what the police had asked her exactly and what she’d told them. Shawn had come, and the reunion had been good medicine before he was taken away to give a statement about his communications with Jane.
The light in her room was off, dousing the room in darkness, and she was trying not to feel anxious about it. She concentrated on taking full breaths and ignoring the panic that was poking at her from the dark shadows that stalked her mind. She heard the door handle turn and tensed as light expanded into the room. She didn’t breathe until Pete came around the curtain.
“Hey,” he said, pulling up a chair to sit next to the head of the bed.
Her relief at seeing him was so intense she started to cry. Pete lowered the side rail of the bed and leaned in as close as he could, one hand smoothing her hair, the other holding the hand of her good arm. He pressed his face close to hers, as close to an embrace as he could manage, and whispered that everything would be okay. She wanted to believe him, but it wasn’t that easy.
Once she calmed down enough to talk, she asked, “Did they find her?”
“Not yet,” Pete said, his voice still soft and comforting. “I’m sorry, Sadie.” He pulled back a little, and that was when Sadie noticed the bandage on his arm. She let go of his hand to touch it, and he moved his hand to his lap, attempting to hide the injured arm from Sadie’s view.
“She cut you.” She looked into his face and noticed scratches on his neck and left cheek. It brought tears to her eyes all over again.
“A few stitches is all it took,” Pete said. “The Boston PD have made it a priority to find her, and they’ve posted an officer at the door of your room to make sure you’re protected. You’re going to be okay, Sadie.”
“Am I?” Sadie whispered.
Pete lowered his head so he was close again. “Yes,” he said. “You are. You’re the toughest woman I know. Pretending to leave a voice message was brilliant, and if you hadn’t handled yourself as well as you did, who knows what would have happened. You should be proud of yourself. You used your head, and because of that, we know who’s been behind all this. You cracked another case.”
“This one’s different, Pete,” Sadie admitted. “This one was my fault.” She looking at their clasped hands instead of his eyes or his injured arm. She didn’t want to cry again. How bad were his injuries, really? He would downplay it no matter how serious it was.
“No, this one was Jane’s fault,” Pete stated.
“But she came to Boston because of me.”
“She came to Boston because of who and what she is.”
“If I had listened to Advice Number Three and kept my nose out of things, none of this would have happened.”
“You’re right,” Pete said with a nod. “Mrs. Wapple would be as crazy as ever, Mr. Forsberk would still be tormenting her, and her sister would still not be stepping up to her responsibilities. Everything would be as perfect as it had been before you cared enough to try to help Mrs. Wapple.”
“I still don’t understand,” Sadie said, unwilling to accept Pete’s attempts at absolving her. “Why was Jane so angry with me? Why did she do any of this?”
“They found a file full of articles about you in her hotel room,” Pete said. “I talked to Shawn and he said she was always asking about you. Over the last few days, she was calling him constantly, asking what you were doing, where you were.”
“Shawn,” Sadie said, her heart dropping. “She used him. Poor Shawn, I bet he feels horrible.”
“He does,” Pete said. “But would you say it’s his fault since he was giving her the play-by-play that told her everything she needed to know to stay a step ahead of you?”
“Of course not!” Sadie said, offended by the suggestion.
Pete smiled. “So why are you to blame?”
Sadie looked down at their hands again. He didn’t understand. Jane got close to Shawn because of Sadie. Everything Jane had done pointed back to her. It was a heavy weight to carry and she didn’t know how to let it go. Pete’s thumb softly stroked the back of her hand in slow, rhythmic circles.
He kept talking. “Timothy Wapple was never involved with ghost hunting. He never wrote those articles Jane told us about. The security guard from the Copley Marriott identified Jane as the woman who asked to have you kicked out of the hotel. She had registered as a guest, which was why they took her side. Your phone was in her car along with a bottle of chloroform. Gabrielle’s car, on the other hand, has thus far been Jane-free—no evidence at all that would point to Jane as a suspect. Had you not figured it out, there’s a good chance we wouldn’t have either. Jane would have recounted her story and everyone would have accepted it as the truth. She’d have been the hero she wanted to be, and you’d have been even more indebted to her.”
Sadie shook her head. “There were so many details she had to get just right.”
“She had a long dark wig in her hotel room. Along with the face makeup you said she had in her pocket, it explains the ghostly face we saw in the window. The police also found a handheld, whisper-quiet humidifier in Mrs. Wapple’s house—that accounts for the cold mist you felt. They traced the call for help you received to one of those disposable cell phones. And the attendant at the gas station near the road where Gabrielle’s car was found verified a woman being picked up by a cab around 9:00—they’re looking for the cab driver now to verify the details. As for how she didn’t get caught by us those times we were right there . . .” He shrugged. “She’s fast, quiet, and—”
“She knows how people think,” Sadie said, looking up at him and remembering what Jane had told her.
Pete nodded. “The police are working on a timeline that shows just how premeditated every part of this was. Jane might be psychopathic, and she may have had to rewrite her game plan when things didn’t go her way, but she knew exactly what she was doing.”
And she’s still out there, Sadie thought to herself. Jane had said Sadie would never be free of her and despite all the lies Jane had told, Sadie didn’t think that threat was one of them.
“Sadie?”
She looked up into his face, absorbing all the tenderness she saw there.
“You’ve been through a lot, honey, but you’re getting the very best medical care. The police will keep you safe, and I won’t let anything else happen to you, okay?”
Sadie smiled, trying to engrave his words into her mind and take confidence in them. “Thank you,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. “For being there when I need you the very most.”
“Ditto,” Pete said, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep, okay? And then I’ll be back before you go into surgery in the morning.”
Sadie had managed to forget that the shoulder surgery she’d been avoiding for months was now an absolute necessity. The cut in her side had required a total of twenty-seven stitches, internal and external, but the doctors expected it to heal well. The other bumps and bruises and strains and sprains would also heal on their own. Everyone remarked how lucky Sadie had been that she hadn’t sustained more injury, given her age. Sadie didn’t feel very lucky though, no matter how hard she tried to believe it.
Pete brought her hand to his lips, kissed it, and looked deeply into her eyes. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he said again.
Sadie nodded, tears in her eyes, and tried to hold on to his solid reassurance.
Chapter 42
Mrs. Ho
ffman?”
Sadie looked up from the word search she was trying to do with one hand and was startled to see Gabrielle Marrow standing at the foot of her hospital bed. She attempted to sit up straighter, but between her shoulder, surgically repaired and supported by a fashionable foam-enhanced sling, and the stitched-up stab wound in her side, it was painful.
“G-Gabrielle,” Sadie said, and then looked past her to another woman who resembled Mrs. Wapple. She was an inch or two shorter than Gabrielle, without Gabrielle’s posture or poise, but her brown-gray hair was plaited into a single smooth braid that hung over one shoulder. She wore a lime-green sweat suit, and her skin and eyes were clearer than Sadie had ever seen them. “Mrs. Wapple,” Sadie said in greeting, stunned to see both of them.
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