Cold Fear

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Cold Fear Page 24

by Susan Sleeman


  “And it’s significant, why?

  “Not sure, other than it’s where Leah and I played our first real concert and our manager discovered us there.”

  “Why would Felicity be searching for it?”

  Riley scrubbed a hand over his face. “I just don’t know.”

  “If she’s wanting to be Leah, it might make sense that Felicity would go back to where Leah’s career began.”

  “It’s a stretch but if we don’t find any other lead, I say we go there.”

  “We have to look for something more promising. Something actionable.” A lump grew in Riley’s throat as he got to his feet. “I have a feeling we don’t have much time to find her before Felicity does something terrible.”

  Felicity stepped to center stage and adjusted the microphone. She glanced back at Leah. “I’ve listened to you like how many times? A zillion and one. So now you’re going to listen to me.”

  “For how long?” Leah asked hoping to figure out how much time she had to find a way out of this or for Riley to discover her location.

  Felicity sneered. “Until I get tired of performing. With all your hits, it’ll be several hours at least.”

  Perfect.

  Felicity began singing “Never Let You Go” again, and Leah looked down at the rope holding her snuggly to the chair. She tried wiggling, but Felicity had done her job. She’d secured the rope tighter than Leah thought possible.

  Felicity had placed Leah’s arms by her side, her hands resting on her lap, making them nearly useless. She looked down to search for the knot, hoping it was in reach. It was dead center of her body but higher than Leah would’ve liked. Still, she shifted until she could touch the knot with the tips of her fingers.

  The haunting melody of the song was reaching the finale, and Leah dropped her hands back to her lap. She didn’t want Felicity to catch her trying to escape. With Felicity’s fragile hold on reality, Leah didn’t need added incentive for her to kill her.

  Felicity glanced back at Leah. “That was so much better than your rendition, don’t you agree? You’ve become lax. Stale and uninteresting. That’s why your career tanked. Okay, maybe it also had to do with the fact that I didn’t follow up on so many promotional things that Gabby assigned to me.” A snide grin snaked across her mouth. “Now. The next song. My favorite.”

  She launched into Leah’s second hit song, and Leah didn’t bother to listen but put her full attention on the ropes. She shifted, and hunched down, moving the knot lower. She strained against the ropes. They cut into her arms, but she pushed harder.

  Yes! She got hold of the knot and dug her fingers into it. No movement. She tried again. Digging harder, the scratchy rope ripped into her tender flesh, but she didn’t care. She dug deep. Got it moving. A fraction of an inch, but at least it released some. She kept going.

  Yes! Yes! She was doing it.

  She pushed harder and opened the knot enough to slide her finger in then tug. The loop loosened. Leah almost cried out with joy but bit her lip to stop. She shimmied her shoulders to release the rope. It started slipping, but she had to catch the ends with her hand and flip the cord around to keep it going.

  The end of the song was coming.

  She was nearly there. She had to work. Harder. Faster.

  Hurry! Hurry!

  Frantic now, she got it moving at a good clip.

  Grab. Flip. Wait for the rope to come around. Grab. Flip again.

  Only a few circles remaining, she hefted her arms high, pushing the rope up and around her neck. She jerked it over her head and got to her feet.

  Only a few more lines of the song remained. She turned and crept as quietly as she could across the floor. Each creak, each click of a heel made her stomach churn with acid. She reached the backstage area and ran for the door. The sight brought her up short.

  No. Please, no. Not chains.

  “That was foolish, Leah,” Felicity’s voice came from the stage.

  Oddly calm, it scared Leah even more. She shot a look around. Searching. Looking. Where to go?

  The catwalk. She remembered it led to another exit on the other side of the stage. She ran for the steps. Climbed up the rickety metal stringers. The structure trembled under her weight.

  Please let them hold. Please!

  She reached the top. Stepped out on the catwalk, an even more unstable venture. She thought to turn back. Saw and heard Felicity on the steps. Leah had no choice. She had to go forward. She slid her foot ahead, gripping the handrail tightly. Inch by inch she moved.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Felicity asked, her voice coming from the bridge. “I have a gun and won’t hesitate to use it.”

  She’d shot three women in the back already, so Leah knew it was the truth. She came to a stop and turned around. Felicity stood, gun raised, that glare of hatred in her eyes.

  “But you have to let me go,” Leah said, feeling confident. “If you shoot me at a distance it won’t look like a suicide, and your plans will all fail.”

  Felicity tilted her head in thought, then a revolting smile slid across her lips. “There’s more than one way to end your life.”

  She tucked her gun in her waistband and hung onto the railing then started stomping on the catwalk, shaking Leah. The metal groaned and started swinging.

  Leah held tightly to the railing.

  Felicity stomped harder. Harder. And harder, putting her whole weight into it.

  Leah heard a rending of metal, and the structure beneath her suddenly let go. She clung to the railing but it went too, plummeting her toward the stage floor.

  She screamed, her lungs aching with the force, but what good did it do? Even if she survived the fall, no one was there to hear her.

  23

  The scream was high-pitched and terrified, and it tore at Riley’s heart.

  Leah. She was in trouble. Was he too late?

  Please don’t let her be hurt.

  Riley slipped through the concert hall door, and quietly entered, Alex hot on his heels.

  He heard Felicity hysterically laughing from above. “That’ll teach you to cross me. You’re already losing strength. Won’t be long now, and it’ll be over.”

  Footsteps sounded on the metal stairs ahead. Descending. Coming closer.

  Riley took cover on one side of the hallway behind a metal pillar, Alex the other side. Footsteps tapped on the wood floor heading their direction. He soon heard Felicity humming, her tone joyful.

  That meant only one thing in Riley’s book. Felicity had killed Leah. He felt sick to his stomach and wanted to hurl on the spot.

  No. Don’t think that way. Trust God. For once in your life, trust Him.

  Riley took a long breath, held it, and directed Alex to take Felicity down. Alex nodded. Riley held his breath. Waited. Her footsteps tapped closer. Came even with Riley. Passed. Alex pounced and took her down.

  “Leah. Where’s Leah?” Riley demanded.

  Felicity laughed, her tone hysterical again. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “Leah!” Riley yelled at the top of his lungs. “Leah, where are you?”

  “Here. Help. Take the catwalk steps.”

  She was alive. Alive! He nearly dropped to the floor with relief. But she wasn’t safe yet. She needed him.

  He ran in the direction of her voice. He found the stairs. Saw the twisted metal structure dangling above the stage floor.

  “Leah?”

  “Climb the steps. I’m holding on. Barely.”

  “Hold on, honey, I’m coming.” Riley wanted to pound up the stairs, but they were shaking, and he didn’t want to risk hurting Leah.

  “Hurry.” She pleaded, creasing his entire body with anguish. “I’m slipping.”

  He reached the top. Found her hands gripped on a barely intact railing, the end pulling from the brick wall as shards rained down on her.

  He quickly assessed the situation. He couldn’t remain standing and reach her. He got on his belly. Hooked his feet into
the side rails. Lowered his upper body over the edge. Stretched out. Reached for her hand and came up short.

  He shifted, easing his feet forward another few inches, still too short, but if he moved ahead even another inch or two he’d be at the wrong angle and couldn’t pull her up.

  “You have to let go with your upper hand and reach up to me,” he said making eye contact.

  “Let go? No. I can’t.”

  “You have to, honey. I can’t lower myself any further.”

  “But I’ll fall.”

  “I won’t let that happen.”

  “I don’t…”

  He met her gaze and held it, conveying confidence. “Trust me, honey. Trust me. Trust God. You can do this. On three. Reach up and I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

  She bit her lip for a moment, tears mixing with terror in her eyes. “Okay. I’ll try.”

  “Here we go,” he said infusing his tone with confidence for her benefit. Maybe his, too. “One. Two. Three.”

  She jerked her arm free and raised it high. He grabbed her wrist. Her other hand slipped. She swung like a clock pendulum. His arm felt like it was ripping from the socket, but he held.

  Her life was literally in his hand. And it started sweating.

  She was slipping. Falling.

  No. God, help me hold on.

  “Lift your other arm,” he shouted.

  She raised it.

  He strained harder. Touched it but couldn’t hold on.

  He stretched out more, his muscles aching with the exertion. He caught hold of her other hand. Held. Her swaying stopped.

  “Now what?” she cried out.

  “I’ll pull you up until you can touch the platform and crawl over me.”

  She looked uncertain, but he couldn’t let that impact him. He would not fail her. Never again. “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, here we go.” He lifted her, the muscles in his forearms burning and his back screaming. He kept lifting. She let go and grabbed onto the platform.

  “Okay, I can do this.” She got a foothold on the dangling railing and climbed up, landing on top of him.

  He let out a long sigh and offered a prayer of thanks.

  When she scrambled over him, he pulled himself up and turned. Every muscle in his body shook from the exertion and he gulped in long breaths to calm his racing pulse. She was alive. She sat trembling at the top of the steps, her back to him. He scooted forward and slid his legs around her to draw her back against his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around her. He pressed his forehead against her soft hair, and if he could find a way to hold her closer he would.

  He’d almost lost her.

  Thank you, God. Thank you.

  Emotions whirred in his body. He couldn’t pinpoint what a single one of them meant—except guilt. “I’m so sorry I let you down. I will never let anyone hurt you again. I promise.”

  His words came out more forcefully than he intended, and she startled for a moment before looking over her shoulder at him.

  She met his gaze. Held it. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. Her expression said it all. She didn’t plan to be around long enough for him to keep that promise, so it made no difference.

  Three hours after Felicity was hauled off to jail and the police had interviewed Leah until she was about ready to scream, she stood toe-to-toe with Riley in his living room. One would think that after the near-death experience they could work things out, but no. They’d reached the same impasse again. She needed to go back to work, which meant traveling. He wouldn’t go with her. Old news. Old problem. But now they had another one. A big one. She didn’t want to have this conversation, but it was a must.

  “We need to work things out for Owen’s sake,” Riley said, his face stony and unreadable.

  “I…” Leah couldn’t get any more words out, so she touched his cheek.

  He pulled in a sharp breath, and his gaze locked on hers. Gone was the animosity, and love lit his eyes, making her bold.

  “I love you, Riley,” she said with every ounce of conviction she could muster. “I’m sure I always will.”

  He drew her into his arms, holding her like he might never let her go, and she reveled in the feeling. Reveled in it too much.

  “I love you, too,” he whispered against her hair and drew back to cup the side of her face.

  His head lowered. He was going to kiss her.

  She wanted him to. How she wanted him to, but she couldn’t allow it. No matter her love for him. They couldn’t get over their differences.

  She pushed free of his arms and stepped back. “I’m sorry. I can’t. I wish things were different, but I guess it’s not meant to be.”

  His expression hardened to solid granite. “I’d hoped for Owen’s sake that you might consider staying here. You wouldn’t have to live with me, but if we were in the same town it would be easier to share custody.”

  Shared custody. The thought still turned her insides into tight knots. “It would be extremely hard for me to travel from here. I need to be near an airport.”

  “I could fly you to Portland in the helo.”

  “I’m sure Gage won’t want his helicopter used for our personal business.”

  “Then once you get back on solid ground you can buy a small helicopter.” He was starting to sound desperate.

  She hated that she’d put him in this position and wished it could be different. “You’ll get tired of having to shuttle me to Portland.”

  “Fine.” He fisted his hands, lifted one, and looked like he planned to punch the wall, then let if fall with a resigned sigh. “Then we’ll set a custody schedule, and Owen will alternate his time between here and Portland, but once he’s in school that’s going to be an issue.”

  “We’ll figure that out when we have to.” Her phone rang and she was thankful for the interruption, though it wouldn’t change this conversation. Nothing would.

  “That’s Kraig’s ringtone.” She dug out her phone and lifted it to her ear with shaky hands. “Tell me you have good news for me.”

  “I do.” His voice was more animated than she’d ever heard. “Turns out when the fickle public heard about Felicity trying to kill you, they forgot all about Owen and are supporting you again. Our promoter wants to resume the tour.”

  “Are you kidding?” She shrieked. “When?”

  “Tomorrow. The crew and staff are already on the road.”

  “That means I have to leave around lunchtime tomorrow.”

  “Gabby’s got major magazines and a couple of news stations calling for live interviews with you—she’s working them into your schedule. And I’ve already been searching for a new assistant for you. Until then, I’ve brought in a temp to help you out.”

  Leah’s head spun. Her fans wanted her again. The public wanted her. She had interviews and concerts lined up for her. What wonderful, shocking news! Her career was unexpectedly taking off, and she could finally make up the money that Carolyn stole from her. “Wow. I…yes! Thank you. I’ll make my travel plans and email the information to you.”

  She disconnected the call and found Riley staring at her.

  “You’re leaving?” His voice held a finality she could hardly bear.

  She shoved her phone into her pocket and took a moment to find the right words, but there were none. “The fans have turned in my favor again. Seems Felicity trying to kill me brought them back to my side, and the tour is on again. Even the magazines and news want to interview me.”

  “When do you have to go?”

  “After lunch tomorrow.”

  He clenched his jaw and the muscles worked hard. “And what about Owen?”

  She hadn’t even had a chance to think about that. “Normally, I’d take him with me, but would you like me to leave him with you? I mean, if you want me to.”

  His eyes darkened with emotions she couldn’t read. “Of course I want.”

  “And you’re sure you can handle that with your work sched
ule?”

  “Hannah and Eryn will help out.”

  “My mom could help, too, if needed.”

  “Thanks.”

  There. Done. She was going. He was staying.

  She considered reaching out to him. To touch him one last time, but if she did, she wouldn’t go. “I better get going on my travel plans and spend some time with Owen before I leave.”

  Riley nodded, but didn’t speak. She was suddenly back in his apartment years ago, walking out on him, and she could barely breathe. She hurried to the bedroom before she broke down.

  You’re doing the right thing for Owen and his future. And for your band members, the crew, their families. You will be helping so many people while keeping your commitments.

  She had to do this.

  Then why did she want to curl in a ball on the bed, pull the covers over her head, and never come out?

  The next morning, Riley pulled his guitar case from under his bed. Stickers from the many places he’d played with Leah decorated the case. He ran his fingers over them. Let the memories flow until he couldn’t think about the past any longer.

  Did him no good. She was leaving. Walking out on him again. And leaving Owen as a consolation prize. Riley could hardly believe it. He was in love with her, and she was leaving. Going away. Tossing him aside.

  How had this happened to him again? How had he let it happen?

  He flipped the latches and jerked out the guitar, the black finish still glossy after little use, and concentrated on tuning it to keep his mind busy. Then he tried a few cords. His fingertips were soft, his callouses from holding chords gone long ago, but it felt good to play. Weird, because when Leah left him before, he could barely stand the sight of this guitar. Too many memories. Now he thought it might soothe him.

  He launched into a favorite song. Not one of theirs. A pop song. Started singing and lost himself in the music.

  There was a knock on his bedroom door.

 

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