Ending the call, he slowly put the phone back into his pocket and turned to face Will. “I think we have bigger problems than an ex-girlfriend who might have lost her mind.”
Will was shaking his head. “Doubt it, my man.” He inclined his head in the direction of Brenda’s front porch. “Your biggest problem is right inside that house.” Will’s hand hadn’t moved from his gun since they started walking.
He inwardly cringed at what they were going into, yet after listening to Diana, he didn’t know who or what was the biggest threat at the moment. All hell was breaking loose, and it seemed they were right smack in the eye of the storm.
He stared at Brenda’s front door and fought the urge to turn around and leave. “Maybe, but this latest wrinkle might be even bigger than what we find on the other side of that door.”
“I don’t believe it, son.”
Paul looked Will in the eyes. “You will. Circe’s house isn’t the only one on fire. Somebody just tried to burn down Diana’s house too.”
*
She’d had her fun and now it was his turn. That was the bargain they’d struck and he planned to hold her to it. Besides, little did she know it was going to be her last fun-and-games adventure. The time he’d been waiting for was now. Eve might not agree, but he didn’t really care at this point. It was time. He’d always known that when the day arrived he’d sense it, and in fact, he did. He felt it in every pore of his body.
His prize was already downstairs and waiting for him to return. Really, there was no hurry. He had all day. All night for that matter. When he started out everything was wham bam. Get it done and get it cleaned up before anyone was the wiser. It had worked too, and for years he’d been able to do as he pleased. He’d managed to stay under the radar in every place he lived and worked.
Until he discovered the book and realized how enjoyable and fulfilling it could all be. Being slow and careful, and paying attention to every little detail made it so much more extraordinary. The book validated everything he strove to accomplish. It gave him purpose and a compelling reason to continue his work. Not that he needed much encouragement. He loved what he did. His prize today was truly exceptional, and the danger inherent in having her here made it all the more special. He was so excited as he drove her home that his hands had been shaking.
When he’d come home to find so much of his work destroyed he’d wanted to kill her then and there. Entirely too many years of putting up with her crap had taken its toll. He’d been ready to blast her out of existence at that moment. Eve had stepped in and made him see reason, as she often did. She was right too when she told him to let it go and rebuild. Little did he realize at that moment how special rebuilding would turn out to be. It was more fun than when he began this journey long ago, and the quality of what he harvested was going to be far superior to his first effort. It was guaranteed to enhance the end result.
So, right now he’d forgiven her for the temper tantrum that had caused such damage and destruction to his work. Forgiveness, however, didn’t mean she was going to stick around. No, the die was cast on that one. Her usefulness had ended. His patience with her had ended. Regardless of how everything else worked out, she was going away for good, and he intended to be the one to usher her out. He looked forward to it almost as much as he looked forward to working with his basement guest.
“Uh-oh,” he said with a smile. “Somebody’s awake.”
From the basement, sounds of movement and muffled screams drifted up from the open doorway. He wasn’t particularly concerned that the sounds would alert neighbors. She was shackled and gagged, after all, and couldn’t make enough noise to alert anyone unless they were standing in the doorway. Even then, if they didn’t know what they were hearing, the noise would sound more like a pet rustling around than what it really was. He’d keep that little secret to himself.
Just to be on the safe side, he double-checked the front, back, and garage doors to make sure the deadbolts were engaged. It wasn’t wise to leave the house unlocked when he was in the basement working. He became so involved with his tasks, he didn’t hear what was going on around him. The last thing he needed was for someone to interrupt him while he worked. Sometimes she would leave through one of the doors and forget to lock it, yet another trait of hers that drove him crazy. Soon he wouldn’t have to worry about locking up behind her.
He had just taken two steps down toward the basement when the doorbell rang. He frowned. Who could possibly be here? None of them exactly had what anyone would call friends. Especially not the kind of friends who would drop in unannounced. His first thought was neighborhood kids looking for donations to soccer or basketball or band. They were like locusts always looking for money, and he had no trouble blowing them off. He was glad he didn’t have kids.
Backtracking to the front door, he peered through the peephole and almost groaned out loud.
Chapter Twenty-three
Unlike Circe’s house, which appeared to be a total loss, the fire department had been able to respond quickly and promptly, and did an excellent job at containing the fire before it could erupt into a massive conflagration. The relief Diana felt when the fire chief told her they had the fire under control was greater than she believed possible. It also made her feel even worse for Circe.
Standing in the driveway, she coughed as a gust of air brought the heavy acrid scent of fire wafting from what was once her garage. It would require extensive repairs, but the gods were definitely smiling on her today because the main structure was intact, having suffered just smoke damage. She could work with that.
Only a fool would believe the two fires were coincidences, and she was no fool. As she waited and watched, she also surveyed everything and everyone. How often did the one who set the fire stay around to watch it burn? According to the experts, pretty much all the time. As she scanned the onlookers, she noticed the faces of her neighbors, exactly the people she’d expect to see. No strangers, no one who seemed out of place. Unless one of her long-time neighbors had suddenly morphed into a firebug, and she seriously doubted that was the case. Old Mr. Johnson with his three pugs or perky Lacy Steers with her obsession with yoga? Not likely.
This time might be different and the experts wrong. She’d felt certain Brenda had vandalized her garage earlier, yet now she wasn’t so sure. Everything that had happened in the last few days was different, though in the back of her mind two words kept going around and around: common thread. Something about the fires, the murders, the gates, and the vandalism seemed to carry a common thread. Brenda might be pissed enough to trash her garage in a fit of jealousy, but this fire was too far along the violence scale to fit Paul’s obsessed ex-girlfriend.
Her hands in her pockets, Diana fingered the small whistle. As the days had rolled by, she’d become more and more convinced that an active serial killer was at work. But was it that simple? Or was there more to this story than a serial killer?
She waited at the house with the fire department until her dad showed up. He could help them with anything they needed in her absence, and she felt compelled to go back up Paul. Her last two calls had gone right to voice mail, as did her calls to Will. Paul hadn’t explained in detail what they were up to, but she had a fair idea. After all, she’d been around Will all her life and had been partners with Paul long enough to pretty much read his mind. They were headed over to confront Brenda. Double trouble, the way she looked at, and she was worried they might have stepped in it big time.
“You stay here with my dad,” Diana said to Circe, who’d insisted on coming to town with her when she got the call about the fire at her home. Circe’s house was a smoldering pile of rubble so there was little need for her to remain there. She’d loaded up Circe and Zelda, and they’d come here with Diana.
Circe was shaking her head as she headed toward the unmarked car Diana had grabbed from the carpool earlier that day. “No way. Come on, Zelda.” She opened the back door for Zelda, who jumped in and sat down. Diana didn’t thi
nk she’d be able to budge her if she tried.
“I’m not kidding, Circe. You and Zelda need to stay here with Dad. Zelda, here girl.” She patted the side of her leg, but Zelda just stared out the front window of the car as though Diana hadn’t said a word and didn’t so much as twitch an ear.
Circe walked to the passenger’s side door and opened it. She stared over the hood of the car at Diana. “I’m not kidding either. We go with you. End of discussion.”
Diana looked over at her dad, the guy who’d taught her so much. He nodded and said simply, “Let them go. I’ll take care of things here.”
“Dad, this could go really bad.” She didn’t think he had a good grasp of the danger she was afraid they were walking into, even though she’d shared with him her thoughts and suspicions. She always welcomed his counsel and counted on him to give solid advice.
His gaze moved between Diana and Circe, and a look she couldn’t quite define passed over his face. “Let them go,” he said again.
“Come on,” Circe said. “Listen to your father and get in the car. We’re burning daylight.” From the backseat, Zelda barked as if to add her “come on” to the mix. Circe got in the car and slammed the door.
“All right,” she said and went around to the driver’s side. After she was buckled in and the car was in gear, she turned and looked at Circe. “You have to promise to do exactly what I tell you. I’m not kidding, Circe.”
Circe kept her gaze forward. “I hear you, and I will do as you tell me. We will.”
Neither of them said a word all the way into town. About a block away from Brenda’s house, she noticed the two cars Paul and Will had driven. She pulled in behind Will’s black Ford F150 and parked, realizing immediately why they were here when there was plenty of room in the block ahead. If they’d decided they needed to come in unannounced, then she would too.
From the glove box she pulled out her Glock and tucked it in the holster at her waist. She turned in her seat and took Circe’s hand. “Please, just wait for me here. I shouldn’t be long.”
Circe surprised the crap out of her when she simply nodded and squeezed her hand. “Okay. Be careful.”
“Count on it.” That was a relief. She didn’t want to have to worry about Circe too. Zelda could probably take care of business pretty quickly, but Circe wasn’t exactly the confrontational type. She felt a whole lot better with them staying in the car a safe distance away from Brenda’s house and the trouble she felt certain was just inside the front door. Her own sixth sense was in high gear, almost screaming “beware” at her.
Diana got out and started toward Brenda’s house. Twice she glanced back just to make sure Circe and Zelda were still in the car. So far, so good.
The house appeared quiet, and she wanted to look around before she marched up to the door. She really wished it was dark outside instead of broad daylight, but at least bushes, flowering plants, and trees ringed the perimeter of the yard. Lots of nice green cover to hide behind. Thank you, Brenda.
Casually, she walked past the driveway and then ducked in behind the bushes. She made her way to the rear of the house, the greenery effectively camouflaging her. This was turning out to be easier than she’d anticipated. As she moved in slowly toward the house she expected to hear voices. Will and Paul had to be inside, yet she heard nothing. The house was eerily quiet, which made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. That bad feeling she got when things were wrong at a crime scene came screaming in double time. Her body buzzed as though she’d just downed a pot of coffee in a single gulp. This was not good.
Peering in through a window covered by a partially opened blind, she felt her heart take a leap. Her feelings had never been wrong, and they weren’t now. Will lay prone on the floor, one arm flung out to the side and his other underneath his body. It looked like blood pooled by his head. She jumped back and moved to the cover of the shrubs. For just a moment, she closed her eyes and tried to calm the sensations racing through her body. She had a horrible feeling Will wasn’t the only one in trouble inside that house. In a voice as quiet as she could keep it, she called for backup.
A smart cop would wait for the backup to arrive. But she wasn’t feeling very smart and wasn’t about to wait for anyone else to get here. Paul was in there somewhere and maybe Lisa as well. Her psychic sense, or whatever in the hell it was, screamed at her to go, go, go. She couldn’t afford to risk the wait. Going now was worth the price.
She made her way to the back door and crouched down. As before, she heard nothing. Reaching out, she took hold of the doorknob and tried to turn it. The door was locked, and it was made of solid wood. She wouldn’t be kicking this one down. If she were some TV detective she’d whip out her lock picks and be inside within seconds. Reality sucked. She didn’t have lock picks, and even if she did, those things were harder than hell to use.
Frantically, she looked around, finally deciding her best bet for entry wasn’t the door. It was the small window to the left of the door. Getting up slowly, she peeked in. The window was off a bathroom, and blessedly, it was empty. With effort, she tore the sleeve off her shirt and then wrapped it around her hand. The fabric kept her hand from being sliced up when she broke the glass of the window and reached through to unlock it. Hoisting herself up to the frame, she wiggled in, dropping to the floor in near silence.
Holding perfectly still, she listened for any sound. As before, nothing. On silent feet she made her way into the front room, where Will was still laid out on the hardwood floor. She put two fingers to his neck, grateful to feel warm skin and a steady pulse. Now all she had to do was find Paul and Brenda. Down the hallway she discovered a single bedroom, a full bath, and a tidy office. The bedroom had a queen-sized bed, fully made up, and it appeared as though anyone rarely used the room. In the closet hung several items of women’s clothing, though nothing she ever recalled seeing Brenda wear.
She tried the upstairs next. The first bedroom was a bland room with a full-sized bed and little else. The second room made her pause. A man clearly called this bedroom his, and the closet bore out that assumption. Men’s shirts, pants, and boots filled it. Men’s cologne and deodorant sat on the chest of drawers. Will was right; a man was indeed living with Brenda. She certainly didn’t let any grass grow under her feet, which begged the question: why stalk Paul if she was living with another man?
The final bedroom had to be Brenda’s, and she thought she was prepared for what she’d find there. Not for the first time today, she was wrong.
“Mother of God,” she whispered as she stood in the open doorway. It was Brenda’s room all right. The décor was vintage Brenda, marred only by the hundreds of photographs pinned to every available surface. Most were photographs of Paul. A few were of her and a few more of Lisa. Her feelings toward Diana and Lisa were clear, as evidenced by the bold red-marker slashes across their faces. The sight made her sick to her stomach.
A noise from downstairs made her spin and raise her gun hand. It was the first sound she’d heard since coming inside. Cautiously she made her way downstairs. Peering into the kitchen she almost screamed when she saw Circe tiptoe to the back door and reach to open it.
Softly she hissed, “Circe!”
But she was too late. Circe had already turned the knob and the door flew open. Zelda raced through, and Diana paused for a moment to let her mind register what she saw. Zelda was in full-on search mode, and that’s when all hell broke loose.
*
“Will you please knock it off!” He whirled around and glared at the man handcuffed, gagged, and tied to the support post next to the stairs. He was kicking and screaming against his gag, and frankly, the obnoxious noise was getting on his nerves.
He was trying to set up his little prize for the main event, and everything needed to be in order. How on earth could he concentrate when this ass was making all that noise? Honest to God, what she saw in that piece of shit, he’d never know.
It would be so easy to end it for him right now
. Except easy wasn’t what he was going for today. He wanted to teach her a lesson before he got her out of his life. The only way to do that was to crush her obsession. And the easiest way to do that? Well, that was a simple one: kill his latest conquest right in front of the eyes of her beloved. God, how she’d whimper and cry. It was so perfect.
He almost laughed. All of this was just as much for his own enjoyment as it was to get back at her. The element of danger involved today was astronomical and the best high he’d ever enjoyed. After today it would be hard to come up with something to match it.
Of course, if everything went as planned, he wouldn’t need any of this again. All the pieces would be in place to follow the text of the De Nigromancia. Fame, fortune, and power would all be his and his alone. He’d waited a long time, and nothing would stand in his way. Especially not an obnoxious cop.
When he was satisfied that he’d secured his latest conquest to the stainless table, he gave her a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll be right back, princess. We need your boyfriend to take it down a notch or twelve so I can concentrate. You and I are going to spend some quality time together, and it’s better if we don’t have that noise box bothering us.”
Before he left the table, he picked up the remote and turned on the music. For today’s work he thought something deep, dark, and complicated like Rachmaninov. With the piano strains filling the room, he smiled. Yes, that was the perfect accompaniment for the job. He ran a finger down her cheek. “Now, isn’t that nice?”
Laying the remote back on the table, he turned and walked over to his captive. “I said knock it off.” He pulled his arm back and then swung as hard as he could. His open hand connected with his cheek, snapping back his head. A bright red outline of his palm and fingers flared up on the side of the man’s face. He loved it. Finally the ass was quiet, and for a moment, all he could hear was the wonderful piano concerto blaring from his speakers. Yes, that was much better.
Necromantia Page 21
