by Alison Stone
Dylan’s thoughts wandered to Christina. “Life in the country is pretty good.” If he didn’t count all the near misses on his life and Christina’s.
“Think you’ll be ready to come back in January?” The Bureau believed twelve months would allow him to get over the death of his partner and avoid any more impulsive actions that could put his life or the lives of his fellow agents in jeopardy. He had nearly shot the CI in the head when the frightened teen had raised his hands in surrender. Dylan could only assume it was divine intervention that spared the young CI.
“I should be ready by January.”
“Good.” His supervisor pushed away from the desk and stood, his way of saying that the meeting was over.
The two men shook hands. Dylan walked out of his supervisor’s office and made his way to the lobby. He stepped into the sunshine and, for the first time in a long time, truly enjoyed the feel of the warmth on his face.
His heart ached for Nora’s life cut short—that would never change—but a part of him was relieved. He had not sent the probationary special agent to her death. Her drug-addicted cousin had that evil act on his hands.
Dylan reached into his suit-coat pocket and pulled out his phone. He muttered something under his breath when he saw Christina’s text.
What was she thinking going to the Everett home alone? He immediately texted Christina right back: How did it go with Linda Everett?
He stared at his phone and a knot slowly tightened in his stomach when he didn’t get a response. Did he really think he’d get one immediately? She was probably busy.
Dylan headed back toward Apple Creek. He’d give Christina thirty minutes to answer his text and then he was calling in the cavalry.
FIFTEEN
Christina’s head felt heavy as she came around. Matthew must have drugged her. With everything that had been going on she felt oddly calm. Perhaps it was the drugs coursing through her system.
Blinking slowly, she tried to focus despite the blackness surrounding her. She tugged on her arms and legs. Matt had bound her hands together in front of her. Her feet were also bound, but when she wiggled, she felt the ties loosen. She bent forward and worked on the fabric wrapped around her ankles.
If only I can undo this knot.
A disembodied voice floated out from the darkness. “I saw you that night.”
Instinctively, Christina sat upright and pressed her ankles together. “What night?” she wanted to say, but her throat was too dry to form the words.
“I was just a kid, but I saw you with my dad. I saw how you were laughing and being silly. Leaning toward him.” He paused and Christina imagined him reliving the night at the beach in his mind’s eye. “Then something changed and you started running, but my dad was stronger.”
He had seen his father attack her on the beach. The realization hit her hard. Maybe little Matthew had been the reason his father had stopped hurting her. Maybe he had been the reason Christina got away.
“Your father hurt me.” Her voice was raspy, dry. She wanted him to focus on the now.
“You did something to make him mad.”
Despite the dullness she felt from the drugs, her pulse spiked. “Do you make your father mad? Does he hurt you?”
“We’re not talking about me and my dad.”
“What your dad did wasn’t right.”
“My dad’s all I have.” Matthew’s voice cracked.
“You have your mom.”
“My mom’s going to die,” he spit out.
Christina waited a minute, then asked Matthew to turn on a light. Surprisingly, she heard a click and a lone bulb burned in the center of the empty basement. She blinked against the brightness of it.
“I came here today to help your mom. Where is she?”
Half his mouth twitched into a mirthless grin. “She likes to sleep in the back bedroom where she can watch the sunrise. She doesn’t sleep much, unless she’s heavily sedated.”
“Is she heavily sedated now?”
Matthew nodded. He dragged over a stool and straddled it.
“Can you please untie me, Matthew? I won’t hurt you.”
He jerked his head back. “Don’t you see? You already have. Ever since the day you came to our house after the barn party, my parents have been fighting. You need to stay away from my dad. He and my mom were working things out before you came along.”
“You have this all wrong. I don’t want anything to do with your dad.”
“Girls are all the same. They ruin everything.”
Christina bit her tongue, figuring Matthew needed to unload everything that was on his chest, weighing him down.
“Cheryl almost ruined everything when she went running to the clinic after Naomi.” He shook his head. “Cheryl’s the one who stole the drugs from the clinic for me. She’s so needy for friends. But she freaked when she heard Naomi was drugged.” He swiped a hand across his mouth as if he tasted something bad. “How was I supposed to know Ben was going to rescue Naomi and rush her to the clinic?” He groaned in disbelief. “I heard that one was pretty wild for being Amish. That she did it with townies. I wanted to see for myself. Get a piece of that.”
Matthew was at the barn party. The realization made her stomach twist.
He’d targeted Naomi. Just like Roger had targeted her when she was in college.
He leaned toward Christina and pointed at her. “I need you to stop ruining my dad’s life. My mom doesn’t have much time.”
“You need to let me go,” Christina said softly, trying to appeal to him. “Hurting me isn’t going to help anyone.”
“You need to pay for ruining my family’s lives. I tried to scare you off. Damaging your car, breaking into your home, trying to run you over at the school, but you don’t scare easily. You’re a fool.”
“How did you know we were at the school?”
“I saw you.” He gave her a look that read, Duh. He drew in a deep breath, as if reliving the moment. “I didn’t plan to try to run you over until I saw you—or rather Dylan—step out from between the buses holding that floral umbrella. You underestimate how observant I am.”
The wild look in his eyes panicked her. She had to keep him talking. Find a way out.
“Who do you think alerted the news after we went to the principal with concerns about your father?”
Matt scrubbed his hand across his face, growing agitated. “That wasn’t me. I was trying to protect my father. Maybe that busybody secretary in the office who always asks a million questions when I show up five minutes late. She’s annoying.”
Christina suspected they might never know. “You’re pretty good at archery,” she said, trying to soften him up with flattery.
“Oh, yeah. What did you do? Bend over to tie your shoe? You must have done some good deeds in your past.” He shook his head and a slow smile formed on his face. “By all rights, I should have hit you.” He pointed to the center of her forehead. “Right there. My dad would have been impressed with that shot.” He said it in such a way that Christina suspected his dad rarely expressed pride in his only son.
“You were almost successful out in the orchard. But what would that have solved?”
Matthew started punching his head and wouldn’t stop. He was obviously off balance.
“Please, please, stop. I’ll help you.”
“It’s too late.”
“It’s never too late.” She tugged on her restraints. They didn’t budge. “What does your father know about all this?”
“I don’t think he knows anything about the girl I attacked on campus.”
Christina’s heart dropped. Matthew had been responsible for that attack, too.
“Maybe he’d be proud of me for that.”
“You’re not your father. You’re your own person.�
� As soon as the words came out of her mouth she wished she could call them back.
“He’s not a wimp like me.” Matthew shook his head, as if mentally beating himself up.
“Does he know you’re into drugs?”
Matthew looked up, as if considering it. “I don’t know. I just know he’s strong and he won’t let you get away with ruining his reputation. You accused him of begin a creep with the girls at my school.” Something resembling disgust flickered across his face. “He used the opportunity to turn things around. Hurt you.”
“Matthew, you need to stop this now before it goes any further.”
Matthew got to his feet and approached her, his face unreadable. “My dad always thought I was a screwup. I’m gonna make him proud of me. I’m gonna show him that I could get you. The one woman he couldn’t.”
* * *
About halfway between Buffalo and Apple Creek, Dylan still hadn’t heard from Christina. He called her phone this time and held his breath until her voice mail picked up.
“I’m worried about you. Call me as soon as you get this.”
He picked his phone up again and was about to dial Nick, when he threw it back down. He had to trust her. He couldn’t go calling the sheriff every time he couldn’t get hold of her.
By the time he reached Apple Creek, Dylan decided to drive directly over to the Everett’s house. His heart started racing when he noticed a pickup truck in the driveway. Was that Henry’s truck? Had Christina borrowed it?
Dylan parked behind the truck and was already preparing all the excuses he could use when he found Christina unharmed and annoyed with him. He knocked on the front door and waited.
No answer.
He tried the door handle and it was locked. Pulling his gun out of the holster strapped across his chest, he stalked around the house, trying to look in all the windows.
Nothing seemed out of place.
As he walked around the back, he thought he heard muffled voices. Bending, he peeked in the basement window and noticed a lone bulb swinging from the ceiling. He saw Matthew sitting on a stool, but his view of the rest of the basement was obscured.
He knew in his gut that Christina was in trouble.
Dear Lord, please protect her. Guide me in helping her. The prayer came to his mind, surprising him.
When he came around the back, he noticed Dorothy doors leading into the basement. He blinked, stunned at what he was looking at. He couldn’t believe it.
Thank you, God.
With one hand tightly wrapped around his gun, he slowly opened the door and cringed at the high-pitched screech the hinges had made. He’d never be able to make a surprise entrance at this rate.
Plowing forward, he descended the steps, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the deep shadows as the light still swung from the ceiling. Someone was obviously nearby.
All of a sudden, Matthew emerged from the shadows, holding a gun aimed at him. He was pale and shaking. “No, no, no,” the young man muttered.
“Take it easy, I’m not going to hurt you. I need to find Christina.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw motion in the shadows. He wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the eye from the swinging lightbulb. But the next thing he knew, Christina had her bound arms raised, holding a two-by-four, and was advancing on Matthew from behind. The teenager went down with one blow, the gun clattering across the cement floor.
Dylan scooped up the gun, then ran for Christina. He wrapped his arm around her, steadying her.
“It’s about time you got here,” she muttered, then smiled brightly at him, the light from the bare bulb dancing in her eyes.
SIXTEEN
“You’re one tough cookie.” Dylan rubbed Christina’s chafed wrists as they sat at the Everetts’ kitchen table. She wanted nothing more than to get out of here, but she knew the sheriff had to do his investigation.
“I’m grateful I was able to undo my ankles while Matthew was hiding in the shadows waiting for you to come down into the basement.”
“Yeah, me, too.” Dylan smiled.
Christina was still struggling to get her head around the fact that Matthew had been the one terrorizing Apple Creek. Terrorizing her.
She slowly shook her head, still trying to rein in her emotions as her body got rid of the antianxiety meds in her system. “I can’t believe it was Matthew. His father must have done a number on him over the years for him to turn out to be so—” she struggled for the right word “—off. I can’t believe he was behind the attacks against the young women in this community and then against us.”
“His world was spiraling out of control with his mother’s illness. He was losing his grasp on reality.”
Nick approached with his hat in his hand. “They’re taking Linda to Buffalo to stay with her sister. She’ll be closer to her doctors there, too.”
“I don’t know how she’s going to manage. She’s so weak as it is,” Christina said. Her compassion for this woman had led her right into Matthew’s hands, had almost gotten her killed.
“And Roger?” Dylan asked.
“I have a sheriff waiting to pull him over once he gets back into town. He has a lot of questions to answer. Women made reports against him, too, after the news came out. Seems both father and son had issues.” He touched his sister’s shoulder. “He’s finally going to be revealed for who he really is.” He paused a second. “He’s finally going to pay.”
Christina should have felt relief, but instead she felt yucky. “I better go home and rest.”
“You need to go to the hospital.”
Christina gave her brother a death glare.
“What if I promise to keep an eye on her? Make sure she’s okay?” Dylan offered, wrapping his arm gently around her waist.
Nick hesitated. “Guess that’s my sister’s call.”
Christina nodded. “I need to rest in my own bed.”
“I’ll make sure she’s okay,” Dylan said as he guided her toward the door. Then he whispered in her ear. “It’s all over. Everything’s going to be okay.”
* * *
Christina sat on a chaise near the French doors of her family home, cradling a cup of hot tea in her hands. Franny had fussed over her as soon as Dylan had walked in the door with Christina. He suspected he could leave and Christina would be suitably cared for, but he found he didn’t want to.
“How do you feel?”
“A lot better. Thank you.” She twisted and set the mug of tea down on the table next to her chair. “I feel horrible for Linda. She’s in poor health and now this.”
Dylan sat down on the edge of the chaise and touched Christina’s foot through the blanket.
“None of this is your fault.”
She tilted her head back and snuggled into the plush chaise. “I know it’s irrational, but I can’t help but think if I hadn’t opened old wounds... If I had let the past rest...” She dragged a hand through her hair. “I keep thinking back to the first day I ran into Roger at his house and we argued in the backyard. Matthew was home. He had to have overheard us. It must have sent him over the edge.”
“Matthew was already dabbling in drugs. He drugged Naomi. He admitted attacking the young college woman, too. If anything, you brought this nightmare to a close.”
“What will happen to Cheryl?” She clasped her hands. “Kids can be so impressionable. In her eagerness to fit in, she stole the drugs from the clinic. I’m guessing she also stole my prescription pad, the one Matthew shredded and left on my bed.” She bit her lower lip, as if giving it some thought. “The reason I even had those particular drugs on hand was from when I was treating Nick’s mother-in-law before she died. I had them locked up. Cheryl used Naomi to gain access to the clinic.”
“I get the sense Cheryl is remorseful.”
Christina looked at him in surprise. “Does that matter?”
“Tough to say. Maybe the courts will let her off with a minimal sentence or even probation.”
“I’ll have to give it some thought on how I want to help her. It still makes me so angry that she betrayed her good friend’s trust.” Christina stifled a yawn and pulled a blanket up to her shoulders.
Dylan stood. “I’ll let you sleep a bit.”
Christina reached out her hand and Dylan accepted it. “Sit back down. Please.”
Dylan lowered himself onto the chaise. “You never told me about your visit to the FBI headquarters.”
A strange calm settled over him. “Apparently my partner was the target of a gang initiation involving her cousin.”
Christina pressed her lips together and shook her head.
“Her murder had nothing to do with me sending her to talk to our confidential informant. Not directly. No matter how hard the Bureau works to protect their own, sometimes evil wins.”
“God gave us free will. But instead of focusing on that, remember when God came through for us.”
Dylan ran the palm of his hand over his jaw, rough with stubble. He was in awe of Christina’s faith. He could learn a thing or two from her.
“Look at how you showed up just in time to save me. I don’t think I ever thanked you.” She blinked up at him with tired eyes.
He felt a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “You were well on your way to saving yourself.”
“I could have only done so much with my hands tied together.”
“You and a two-by-four are a pretty tough combination.”
Christina ran her hands over the stitches of the crocheted blanket. “I’m glad you came when you did.”
“Me, too.” The words he needed to say got jammed in his throat. Finally he said, “I don’t want to think about what life would be like without you in it.”
Christina turned her face toward him, a curious look in her eyes. “That’s how you feel now, but you have a whole other life you’ll be going back to with the FBI. I can see how you thrived on rushing in and saving me. You must be a very good agent. You’d never be happy in Apple Creek and I have no plans on abandoning my clinic.”
