“Please. I’ll do anything.”
Maybe the time was right. Perhaps that particular breakpoint was what the figure needed. It didn’t matter in the end, because following the words came a rush of footfalls, grass crunching loudly under each. A thud, then the outline of a head appeared, blocking out much of the waning light. Spittle rained down, dotting the fingers and cheek, creating tiny circles of distortion in the covering of dirt. “What do you want?” Screaming, over and over, demanding an answer to a question the form in the pit could not answer openly.
Everything would gain me nothing.
“What do you want? What? What?” The figure moved, sunshine glinting off the shiny dome of its head, dark hair shorn close to the skull. That was the first indication that this wasn’t the same person, not inside, not where it counted. This wasn’t the one who spoke softly, calling the prisoner “darlin’” and careful of injury. This was the angry one, the one who dripped liquid fire through the grate, making an impossible-to-pass circle around the meal bucket. The bucket retrieved on schedule, unemptied. This was the one who would maim for pleasure. “What do you want?”
Fast as it could be accomplished, the figure fell away from the mesh, hands shoving in tandem with heels to push away from the opening—creating distance that was as grand an illusion as the view through the opening. All the angry one would need do was lift the trapdoor. Locked into place from the outside, camouflaged by dirt and grass, it could be opened and then the entire range of anger would be unleashed.
Nowhere to hide.
A softly whispered word, one only, the best defense was a tiny offense. “Nothing.”
There was no guarantee the kind one would return tomorrow with water. If not, it wasn’t the first time of going without. There was no guarantee the angry one would stay, either. While challenging, that emotion was at least predictable. Worst-case scenario would be the third one would show. Back against the dirt wall, the prisoner closed eyes strained from holding them wide in the darkness. The welcome relief of darkness giving a false security, one where dreams were allowed.
Maybe I’ll die tomorrow.
Chapter Three
Todd
“Eric, may I speak with Alace?” From the pause on the line, Todd knew his request read as not only odd enough to be noted but—since the silence carried an oppressive heaviness—also unwelcome.
Eric Ward was Todd’s best friend. A relationship earned on the high school football field as well-matched rivals and then honed through the years of college and beyond, their professions causing their lives to continually intersect. Eric was a prosecutor, Todd a judge. Their friendship was something the county court system had to work around, but to have a friend like Eric, Todd was more than willing to put up with the occasional grousing from the other two judges.
“Why?” A single word clipped and bubbling with anger told Todd he was not wrong. Eric was protective of his wife, and with good reason. Her job was unusual, and that oddness was the very reason Todd was on the phone right now.
He didn’t try to hide his tension. Now wasn’t the time to lie or joke. The only way Eric would grant his request was if Todd laid it out. He just had to do it while following the ruse Alace had carefully crafted over the past months. Allowing his voice to expose all the unease he felt, he said, “I have an idea for a story.”
Alace had changed her life when she met Eric. Changed Eric’s life, too, but hers had gone through perhaps the greatest metamorphosis. These days, the people in town knew her as a writer. Through the months her cover had held firm, and Todd knew, from evenings spent listening to Eric talk, she’d even had to turn down reporter-requested interviews about her job.
Her fake job.
Her real one, the shadow job that shouldn’t have to exist, was why he was calling. He broke the silence Eric had let grow, expanding on the premise of a story idea. “I’d like to run it by her, see if she thinks it’s worth pursuing.”
“I’ll call you back.” The sound coming through the phone assumed the distinct tonelessness that indicated the connection had dropped or been disconnected without a goodbye. With a wry grin, he guessed the latter.
“Okay. I can do this.” Todd ran his hand through his hair and leaned his car seat back a few inches, prepared to wait however long it took to get a return call. The only thing on his agenda for the remainder of the day was a trip to the grocery store. It could wait. He huffed out tension with a humorless laugh. Waiting on the pleasure of a killer. Some judge I am. His phone buzzed immediately, even before he’d had a chance to settle completely, and when he looked, it was to see a text from a number that wasn’t in his contacts.
Go home.
That was it, the sum total of the instructions he assumed were from Alace. He scowled and raised the phone to punch Eric’s number again, but the call died before it connected, a malfunction of the device. A moment later a second text buzzed his phone.
Go home, Todd.
His phone no longer had a signal. In this location, the message about searching for service was unusual enough to note. He’d held entire conference calls parked in this same place, with nary a staticky pause. He studied that message a moment longer and then tossed the useless phone to the center console. Moving by rote, he yanked the gearshift into reverse, slung his arm over the back of the seat to twist and look out the window as he backed out of his space. Clearly, I’m going home right now.
The drive was unremarkable, he encountered only limited traffic and the lights on his route cooperated for once. With his thumb pressing firmly on the garage door controller, he scarcely had to pause before he pulled into the structure. The door rose smoothly, late afternoon light slanting through the opening. A rectangle of darkness yawned ahead of him, and he startled when he realized the interior door stood open. He exited the parked car and, with the engine ticking its slow cooldown in the background, he tapped the button wired to the wall next to the door, the light slowly muting as the lowering barrier shut it outside, trapping him in.
Briefcase in hand, Todd stalked into the kitchen, not quite surprised to see a figure already seated in a chair at the table. Turned sideways, Alace had propped her feet on an adjacent chair, ankles tidily crossed, socks visible on her shoeless feet an indication of either the length of time she’d been present or how involved she expected the conversation to be.
“That didn’t take long.” Alace’s tone held no amusement, even as teasing as those words sounded on the surface. “Must mean this is an important interruption in my day.”
“It is.” Eyes on Alace, he bent to place the briefcase on the floor next to the side table, where he followed the next step in his normal routine by emptying his pants pockets into the bowl kept there for that purpose. He patted one front pocket, trying to decide what was missing from the pile of belongings.
“You left it in the car.” Alace’s shoulders shifted slightly as she adjusted her hands across her middle, fingers threading together in a pose of relaxation he didn’t believe for a moment.
His phone. That’s what was unaccounted for, left behind because it wasn’t functioning. Todd nodded, then dipped his head to stare at his fingers working the clasp on the old-fashioned watch worn on his right wrist. “How do you know I left it in the car?”
“Because that’s where it pinged when I turned it back on.” A small device rested on the table next to her. Thin, it was barely the length of an adult man’s finger. She tipped her head that direction. “Tools of the trade, ya know. You missed a call. Should check on that later.”
Watch carefully positioned on the surface next to the bowl, face angled towards the ceiling, cradled by a fold in the band, Todd ran out of things to occupy his hands and turned, giving Alace his full attention. He firmed his resolve and said, “I need to talk to you.”
Her arms spread, fingers flared out, palms facing him, she gave him an obvious opening. He just wasn’t sure how to begin. What had seemed so clear in the car, muffled by the buffering voice of h
is friend, was muddled now that he was directly within reach of her. Wow, he marveled. I’m frightened of Alace.
“You should be afraid, Todd.”
His heart stuttered and sweat gathered along his spine, heat held in with the covering from his suit jacket, not yet removed.
“Right now—” She broke off as she lifted her feet from the chair, swinging them to dangle over the floor.
Todd found himself studying every movement as if she were a viper about to strike, no matter she was fifteen feet away and seated.
“I’m looking for a reason to allow you to threaten my world.” One elbow landed on the tabletop as her tiny chin nestled into her propping palm.
Compared to him, all parts of her were tiny. Size doesn’t matter here, not with Alace. For all he’d initiated the meeting, had started this game, she held all the cards.
“You need to be a hundred percent certain you want this conversation to move forwards. If you don’t, just say so. Say so and then we can talk about what I should get Eric for his birthday next month. You’re his best friend, and I rely on your lifelong insights into the surface things he enjoys. Easy breezy, we’ll have ourselves a real quick chat full of pleasantries, and I’ll be out of your hair before you even know it, thanking you for your gracious hospitality.”
The legs of her chair screeched across the floor as it was pushed backwards, her feet gaining firm purchase on the tiles when she sat forwards, balancing on the edge of the seat.
Small didn’t mean weak. Alace’s visible musculature was defined; each line of her body revealed a tension like the coiled power of a tiger about to spring.
She lifted a hand. “If you aren’t a hundred percent, and we start down this path, I hope you know your indecision provides absolutely zero reason for me to turn back.” Her hand formed an “O” as she spoke, finger and thumb meeting in a circle. Her chin lifted, and he was pinned in place with her gaze, the flat stare as disturbing as anything he’d ever experienced. “Approaching me is like leaping from a cliff. Once that first step is made, the only direction is down.”
Silence ruled for minutes, each tick of the kitchen clock marking another inch towards no return. He’d shown her his fear; the air reeked of it, fabric under his arms sodden. Maddy’s eyes flashed through his thoughts, that brilliance dimmed by her sorrow, the absolute worst of it the not knowing. Mackie deserved to be found, to be saved if she could be, and celebrated in a way that gave closure if the journey turned out to be recovery instead of rescue.
Todd pulled in a deep, deep breath, lungs and ribs aching as he drew more in than comfortable. Then he nodded, toed his shoes off, and sock-footed made his unsteady way to the chair opposite where Alace still sat. Actions clumsy, his limbs unaccustomedly ungainly and slow, and if he’d eaten or drank since walking through the door, he would wonder if he’d been drugged.
“It’s the adrenaline crash. Want me to get you some juice?” Alace matched actions to words and was up and around the table in a moment. “I know just the thing.” She passed behind him with a touch to his shoulder in a move that had every nerve in his body blaring an alarm again. Todd twisted and watched as she confidently made her way to the refrigerator, and without looking or seeking, put her hand on a can of sparkling juice he used as the light mixer Maddy preferred with her cocktails. Alace popped the top one-handed, bumping the refrigerator door closed with a hip as she reached for one of the glasses stacked in the dish strainer. “Give you a little boost right here. Like I said, just the thing.” She was beside him an instant later, half-filled glass deposited on the table, can cradled in one hand as she returned to her seat. She lifted the can, drank deeply, and winked at him. “See? No poison.”
“God.” He stared at her, the façade of the sweet girl Eric loved and cherished pulled entirely away, exposing the driven professional underneath. His mind still tried to shy away from the idea of that profession. “Am I that transparent?” Ignoring his still-jangling nerves, he lifted the glass and took a drink, not surprised to find it cold and sweet, and exactly what he needed to wet his Sahara-worthy dry mouth.
“No. You actually gave good poker face. The things you could control, you did, very well.” She shrugged, drank from the can again and set it to the side. The empty rattle of metal on wood said she’d drained it dry. He took another drink, the bottom edge of the glass clattering against the table as he set it down. “It’s the involuntary reactions that matter most to me, and I’ve made a study of cataloging those. Micro-expressions, heart rates, skin changes—they all mean different things, and I’ve learned to speak their languages.” She quirked an eyebrow at him, and he instantly wondered if that expression meant something different in Alace-speak than it did his, where it usually preceded a clever quip. “It’s nice I can put you at ease, Todd. I like the fact you don’t look much past the face value of things. For instance—” She leaned in slightly, elbow and hand returning to their previous positions, her chin propped lightly on the edge of her palm. “It never would cross your mind that the poison could have already been in the glass, and me drinking the rest of the can of juice a ploy to earn your trust and compliance, so you’d in essence drug yourself by following typical social mores and taking a sympathetic drink.”
Concrete settled into his lungs, his body crying for another breath he couldn’t take.
Alace’s hand tipped, and she rubbed the edge across her bottom lip, as if to chase away a stray drop that dared remain. “I didn’t, of course. You’re Eric’s best friend.” Voice rising in a sweet, girlish lilt, she asked, “Why would I do that?”
Todd didn’t blink, didn’t look away, frozen in the knowledge that she could have. He was an intelligent man, prided himself on his ability to quickly assimilate details of a case, dredging up obscure rulings and precedent at will. He enjoyed pastimes that allowed him to flex his mind, worked at staying sharp. Yet he had the feeling Alace was so far out of his league he couldn’t even see the starting line from where he stood. Hell, she probably already knows why she’s here.
“I had to recuse myself from a case today.” He blinked, lids dragging painfully over dry eyes, and he blinked quickly a few more times, reflexively swiping away the wetness flooding his vision. She moved and he paused, watching. One finger tapped the device that still rested on the table, and he heard a high-pitched whine, almost a mosquito’s drone, but only for an instant. “What’d you do?”
Both elbows on the table now, Alace balanced her chin on the heels of her hands. Her head tipped the slightest amount to one side, a corner of her mouth twitching. Once. She didn’t say anything, or shift position again, just stared at him.
Shaking off his unease, Todd glanced at the device, surprised to see a dim, pulsing red ring of light around the edges of the screen. He deliberately decided to set that aside and closed his eyes as he continued. “Madison Temple is a good friend of mine.” Did I put too much emphasis on “good”? Not enough? He squinted against the light in the kitchen, waning now as the sun settled towards the horizon outside. “Her sister went missing a few months ago. Maddy’s convinced that Mackie’s boyfriend knows something. He was the last known person to see her. Maddy can’t let it go, and she keeps harassing him. He puts up with it for a while, then has charges brought against her. The case today was one of those. Maddy told me she has a gut feeling about him.” He stopped when Alace’s pupils flared slightly, waiting.
Alace hummed softly. “Mmmm. I get it. It might not be what she thinks, that would more likely be her desperate desire to find her sister tacking itself to some aspect of his personality she doesn’t even know she finds offensive. But once the gut’s involved, it’s all bets off whether a person can let it go, set it aside, and move on.” Alace sat back in the chair, gaze steady as she stared at Todd. “What does your gut say about the boyfriend?”
He was shaking his head before she finished speaking. “I don’t know enough to make a considered judgement. He’s from Utah, where Mackie was living with him. I’ve met the m
an twice, more than a year ago. Both were at social functions where I was more concerned with appearances than I was about what I thought about Maddy’s sister’s boyfriend.”
“That’s honest, at least.” The corner of her mouth pulled sideways into what might have been the beginning of a grin. “You are kinda preeny.” He stared, not sure how to take her statement, and after a moment she burst into laughter. He found himself smiling at her, then looked more closely at her face. The laughter came from her throat, her mouth moved with it, lips curving up, but her eyes stayed focused, that flat stare still in place. His smile dropped away, and that was the moment the corners of her eyes crinkled, echoing the amusement still coming from her mouth. “That’s an improvement, Todd. You really should be better at this, you know? You’re surrounded by such rich opportunity every single day, and it burns a little to know you’ve been ignoring the lessons right in front of you.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Didn’t know what not to say was more like it, not wanting her to take offense at anything, not now that it seemed she might be open to looking for Mackie. “I’m preeny?”
“Masculine peacock, strutting around at parties like that. Silks and suedes covering your finely honed muscles that aren’t for strength but pursued for how they help you fill out a suit. Hair trimmed and styled, hundred-dollar products used to plaster it in place, pristine teeth peeping out from behind unchapped lips.” She shrugged and sighed. “Preeny.” Her lips pursed. “I bet this Madison is pretty. You’d go for a petite woman, not because she’d be easy to overpower but because she gives you something to protect. Caveman tendencies are natural, at least to some extent. I bet she fits right in the curve of your arm, because then it’s comfortable for everyone. You, her, the people watching how well you go together. A pretty picture manufactured by careful packaging.”
Seeking Worthy Pursuits: A Dark Romantic Suspense Novel (Alace Sweets Book 2) Page 2
