Curtain Call: Magnolia Steele Mystery #4

by Denise Grover Swank

  “What mark?” My father sounded bewildered and scared.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” Tripp shouted, his face twisting into a mask of rage. “The logo for my ranch. The one I never got because you and your friends lost all of my money.”

  “What did you do?” my father bellowed in dismay.

  “You can see it when you get here. It’s on display. I’m giving you five minutes to get here. Magnolia will get another slash for every minute you’re late.”

  “But I’m at least ten minutes away!” my father protested.

  “Not my problem. And if you’re not here in fifteen minutes, I’m carving the mark into her pretty cheek.” Tripp ended the call, set the timer for five minutes, and then laid the phone down on the concrete floor. As he stood, he studied me, watching my body shake with sobs.

  “You really are a pretty girl, but then you always were,” he said, sounding like he was lost in thought. “You used to put on those shows after dinner.”

  Keep him talking. Keep him distracted, but the pain was so intense I struggled to form a coherent thought. “Daddy liked to hear me sing,” I said in ragged breaths.

  “In the hall at the dinner last night . . .” Tripp took a step toward me. “You said you didn’t remember me coming to your house. Is that true? You don’t remember how we used to sing together?”

  I almost said no, that I didn’t remember a thing about him, but then a memory wiggled free. Me sitting on the fireplace hearth next to Tripp as he strummed his guitar and we sang Johnny Cash and June Carter’s song “Jackson.” Momma was watching with guarded eyes, and the hate rolling off Roy was palpable. But Daddy . . . the memory of the love and adoration in his eyes made my breath catch in my chest. Of course, eight-year-old me had taken every drop of affection from that man for granted.

  “Yes,” I whispered, and more memories surfaced of Tripp at the dinner table—sometimes just him, sometimes Clint and a couple of other guys too. Memories of me and Tripp singing together, and of the boys, as dad had called them, singing on the back deck. Memories of Tripp hanging out with our family. He’d been there a lot . . . No . . . “You lived with us for a while.”

  How had I forgotten that?

  “After your father lost all of my money. He was still pretending to love me then. Pretending to be my dad. And I believed it until Tiffany.”

  My mouth opened as I started to protest, but I knew it was true as more memories surfaced, memories I’d buried deep inside, locked away . . . to protect myself. “I’d forgotten . . .”

  Oh. God.

  My mind flashed back to that horrible night, and I realized I hadn’t remembered everything. Right before Tripp had cut into my leg, the shadows hadn’t entirely covered his face.

  “Tripp,” I’d whispered, and his grin had stretched wider as he made the first cut.

  Why had my mind betrayed me? I wouldn’t be here now if I had remembered that moment. And I could have saved so many women . . .

  “Yes. How could you have forgotten?” he asked, sounding pissed. “You used to love me, Magnolia. More than your own brother, and he hated us both for it.”

  “We were kids . . . babies. You were older.”

  “Not that much older. I’m only fifteen years older than you. We were close, but I meant so little to you that you forgot me.”

  “I didn’t forget on purpose,” I said, struggling to catch my breath. Hanging by my arms made it difficult enough to breathe, but my sobbing hadn’t helped. “After that night, I think I blocked all memories of you from my head.” I still couldn’t quite catch my breath, but focusing on talking seemed to calm me down. “When I woke up in the woods, I didn’t remember anything about this house. I had a concussion, so I thought the memory loss was from that. But I was scared, and I knew Momma and Roy were in danger, so I ran away. I didn’t remember anything until I came back to Franklin, and then only in bits and pieces. But I still didn’t remember it was you. Not until now.”

  “The human mind is a funny thing,” Tripp said. His grin was back—and it was wrong. “I thought you were ballsy when I saw you at the dinner. But then, you were always so fearless as a little girl. You’d take on a giant if he looked at you wrong, so I thought that serving me at that dinner was a way to get back at me. I followed you into the hall to confront you, but you asked me about Tiffany, and I realized that you really didn’t remember.” He looked amused. “I planned on exploiting that more, but unfortunately, things have progressed a little too quickly. It’s time to wrap this up.”

  “Roy saw you,” I said. “You threatened him to be quiet too.”

  “It doesn’t take much to threaten Roy, and it helped that he didn’t remember me. But I knew he was watching, and I wasn’t surprised. He hated you, and I think he liked seeing you powerless and defenseless.”

  I closed my eyes, the thought too overwhelming. It was so similar to what Colt had said, and there was no denying the words carried a grain of truth.

  “It hurts when the people who are supposed to love us don’t. When they turn on us and betray us instead. I know exactly how you feel, Magnolia.”

  I didn’t respond. He moved closer, close enough that he snaked his left arm around me and rested his hand on my lower back.

  My breath caught in my throat as his gaze came to rest on my breasts. He slid his hand down and cupped my butt cheek.

  This caught me by surprise. There was no record of him sexually assaulting the previous victims, not that groping would show up on an autopsy report. But my memories of Melanie’s death didn’t include anything sexual at all. Or maybe I’d blocked it out.

  I held his gaze, trying to figure out what he was doing, and a grin lifted one side of his mouth higher than the other. He was amused.

  “Do you know what I used to daydream?”

  I was almost scared to ask, but I needed to keep him talking. “No. What?”

  “I used to imagine us together . . . when you were older, of course. We would be married, and then I’d really be Brian Steele’s son.”

  I gasped in shock, and it must have shown in my eyes, because his grin faded. “Is that so heinous, Magnolia?”

  “No,” I said, scrambling to come up with a plan. I could use this. It was time for the performance of my life. Literally. “When I saw you at the dinner . . . you caught my eye,” I said, “even before I knew you were Tripp Tucker. Something about you felt so right. Like something inside me had been missing.”

  He blinked in surprise. I’d caught his attention.

  “When I found out who you were, I knew I’d never have a shot at being with you, but I thought of you . . .” I let my voice drop off, full of innuendo.

  He watched me with interest.

  “I hate my father. I hate him for what he did to me and my family. I hate him for what he did to you. We can both hurt him,” I said. “Let’s hurt him together.”

  “What do you have in mind?” His hand tightened on my butt, and he pulled my body flush to his. The bulge in his pants told me he was interested. If I could get him to cut me down, I’d improvise. I just needed to be free.

  “When he shows up, we ambush him together. How much do you think it will hurt him to find out that I’ve been working with you to bring him down? Especially after he rushes over here to save my life. You want him to pay, Tripp. This is how to do it.”

  He lowered his face to the side of my neck and breathed in deep before placing a tender kiss on my pulse point.

  I fought hard not to cringe from his touch, but it was impossible. His hand with the knife rested on my waist.

  His face lifted. “You smell like him.”

  My chest tightened. “Who?”

  “Colt Austin. You slept with him and then tried to seduce me.” He took several steps back, the blood from the wounds on my leg and my stomach smeared on his jeans and light gray T-shirt.

  I shook my head, trying not to panic. “No! My father hired Colt to watch me. So I’ve been feeding him false information, trying
to lay a trap of my own. But yours is so much better. We can work together.”

  His face softened, and his grip on the knife loosened. He seemed to be considering it when the alarm on his phone went off.

  My heart skipped a beat.

  Tripp’s face fell and regret filled his eyes as he squatted next to the phone and turned off the alarm.

  “I really wish you’d told me this before I called your daddy.”

  “It’s not too late, Tripp,” I pleaded shamelessly. I had no pride left. Only self-preservation. “We can still do this. Please.”

  He shook his head, then swiped on his phone, setting the timer for one minute. I somehow resisted the urge to start sobbing. I couldn’t fall apart. I needed to keep my wits and think this through.

  “That’s just it,” Tripp said, advancing toward me. “I made your father a promise, and unlike Brian Steele, I keep my promises.”

  The knife blade glinted as it arced toward me, slashing my abdomen diagonally.

  The cut was longer than the others, and I screamed in pain and fright, my feet unsteady beneath me. My body weight dropped, jerking on my arms and sending a fresh wave of pain through my shoulders.

  Tripp took a step backward, wearing a grim look as he restarted the timer for one minute.

  Chapter 30

  I felt the sting of a hand on my cheek, and my eyes opened, blinking in the light of the bare bulb overhead.

  “Wake up, Magnolia,” Tripp cooed into my ear. “I need you awake.”

  My peripheral vision was fading again, but the press of his mouth to my neck brought me back to awareness.

  “You’re a strong girl,” he said as he kissed my cheek. “And such a pretty girl. Daddy must not love you as much as I thought he did. Let’s hope he shows up soon. He’s eight minutes late, and we both know what happens in another two minutes.” He licked a C on my cheek with his tongue.

  A fresh sob rose out of nowhere. After eight minutes of hell, I was sure I was out of tears.

  I heard a creak on the floor overhead. Tripp must have heard it too, because he stopped and lifted his head.

  “Daddy’s home,” he sang out, a smile lifting his mouth.

  He moved away from me, heading toward the stairs as the creaking in the floorboards overhead moved closer.

  I hadn’t stood a chance ten years ago. Tripp had known I was there from the moment I’d walked in the door.

  “Magnolia?” Colt called out, and my heart slammed into my ribs.

  “Colt!” I screamed and started to sob.

  Tripp shot me a look that screamed, Shut up. No words required.

  “I have something you want,” Colt called out. “Two somethings. Come up and get them.”

  “I don’t think so,” Tripp shouted. “But you’re free to come down and see your girlfriend. She’s sporting a new look since you last saw her.” Then he laughed.

  My entire body throbbed from the multiple cuts he’d slashed into me, and blood dripped to the floor.

  I was sure I looked just like Melanie had when I first saw her. Had she been filled with the same hope of escape when she’d heard my footsteps overhead? She must have been devastated when Tripp had instead carried me down the stairs.

  “I’m having a hard time wrestling one of them,” Colt shouted. “Let our host know you’re here, Steele.”

  “I’m here!” my father shouted. “And I have the money.”

  Tripp hesitated at the base of the stairs.

  “Just come get the money and go,” Colt hollered out. “It’ll make your getaway a lot smoother.”

  The alarm went off and Tripp glanced at me, indecision in his eyes. “I’m in a dilemma, Magnolia. I told Daddy that I’d cut you for every minute he was late, and while he’s technically here, he’s not here. I need him to see you. I need him to see my handiwork.”

  He moved toward me, the knife at an angle that meant he was about to slash me again.

  “No!” I screamed, letting the rope take all my weight as I lifted a foot and smashed it into his crotch. But my aim was slightly off, and although he doubled over from the pain, he wasn’t totally incapacitated.

  There was movement on the floor overhead and then on the stairs, but Tripp was upright and moving behind me. He had an arm around my stomach, and the pressure of his arm against my wounds was sending pulses of pain and fire through my body, but I was more worried about the knife tip pressed to my neck.

  Colt appeared first, his expression a mixture of shock and outrage. Then anger. His body was tight with barely controlled rage as he reached the basement floor. He had a gun at his side, and he lifted it, pointing it to the side of my head—at Tripp’s face, the only part of him not covered by my body.

  My father was behind him, holding a black satchel. His eyes flew open when he saw me.

  “Magnolia?” His gaze lifted to Tripp. “What have you done, Tripp? You’ve ruined everything, son.”

  “Son,” Tripp spat out. “I’m not your son. You were full of lies. You told me you would never leave me and you did!”

  “I didn’t want to leave,” my father said with a panicked look as his eyes scanned my body. “You know I never wanted to leave you or Magnolia, but they would have killed me if I’d stayed. Then you never would have gotten your money.”

  “You could have taken me with you!”

  “You know that wouldn’t have worked. It would have looked suspicious. I needed you to wait.”

  “I was tired of being patient. You told me you’d give me back my money tenfold, even after everyone else lost theirs. I’ve been living off residuals for fourteen years,” Tripp said. “Every time you came back, you were full of excuses.”

  “I told you it would take twenty years before the annuity paid out.”

  “But you had plenty of money to come back and forth! You’ve had plenty of money to live off of, and you never shared a dime with me,” Tripp shouted, his grip tightening around my stomach. I cried out as another wave of pain shot through my body.

  Colt’s hand tightened on his gun. How good of a shot was he? Could he miss me and kill Tripp? Because if he missed, I was confident Tripp would slit my throat.

  “It wasn’t just money, you stupid son of a bitch!” Tripp cursed, his body stiffening behind me. “I’ve been alone! You ruined my life! And now I’m going to do the same to yours!” The knife blade pressed harder into my neck, and I felt a prick of pain.

  Panic rose up, choking me, and I struggled not to start sobbing again. I caught Colt’s gaze, and the fear in his eyes gutted me. He’d never be able to handle seeing me murdered in front of him.

  I mouthed, I love you.

  His face hardened and he gave me the tiniest of nods. He was going to get me out of this.

  “Tripp,” my father said in a calm voice that hinted he thought he was regaining control of the situation. “I’ve missed you.”

  The pressure of the knife tip on my throat eased up.

  “Come with me,” my father said. “I planned to bring Magnolia, but why don’t you come with us?”

  “I can’t come after this!” Tripp said in disgust, taking the knife away from my throat and waving it downward, then back up.

  “You’ve made mistakes,” my father said in a soothing tone I recognized from my childhood. He used to speak to me like that when I was scared. “I’ve made more than I can count. I’ve hurt the people I love the most. I’ve hurt Magnolia. I’ve hurt you. But we’re family, and family forgives one another. It’s the way it works.”

  Tripp turned his face to look at me. “Can you forgive me, Magnolia?”

  I couldn’t hold back my tears as I lied through my teeth. “Of course I forgive you. I understand doing drastic things because you feel unloved and alone.” I struggled to get out the words. My breath was shallow and my face felt numb.

  But what I said must have had an impact because Tripp’s hold loosened.

  My father took a step forward. “I have a plane waiting for me and Magnolia. We’re f
lying out as soon as we leave here. Come with us.”

  Colt’s gaze was still on me, and he looked alarmed. “You need to get Magnolia down. She’s hurt, and hanging like that isn’t going to help with her blood loss.”

  “Cut her down,” my father said. “Let’s put pressure on her wounds. Then we’ll take her to the private plane I have waiting at the Murfreesboro airport.”

  “She needs help before that,” Colt said, trying to look unaffected by the sight of my wounds. His voice shook slightly. “Some of her cuts are deep. She needs a doctor.”

  “We don’t have one,” my father said, then advanced toward me. “But we’ll make do. Tripp, cut her down. We have to go. There’s a storm blowing in, and we have to outrun it.”

  “I haven’t said that I’m going,” Tripp said. “I brought you here so you could watch me kill Magnolia. Then I was going to take the money and kill you too.”

  “There’s a fine line between love and hate,” my father said. “You love me, Tripp. Don’t let your temper and impatience get the better of you. I can move past this. Can you?”

  “You’ll still bring me with you?” Tripp asked in disbelief.

  “I’ve missed you, Tripp,” my father said. “You were the son I always wished I had. There’s nothing stopping you from coming now. But we have to hurry. With the storm blowing in, the plane won’t be able to take off.”

  Tripp’s hand shook as he pointed the knife toward Colt. “I want him to throw his gun over here. I don’t trust your errand boy, Brian.”

  “He’s not going to shoot you,” my father said. “He’s my employee, and he’s loyal.”

  “I don’t care,” Tripp said. “He loses the gun before I cut her down.”

  Colt squatted and tossed the gun to the floor. It skidded across the concrete, stopping halfway between us.

  Tripp hesitated for a moment, but then reached over my head with the blade. He leaned into my ear, whispering, “I hope you can get past this, Magnolia.”

  I didn’t answer, my skin crawling with the anticipation of being cut down. I kept my gaze on Colt, telling myself he’d find a way to get me out of this. He slowly reached behind his back as he stood.