The First Victim

by JB Lynn

  Emily flinched which made the man on top of her chuckle.

  “My father’s impotent,” he told her conversationally. “But you already knew that, didn’t you? He had his chance with you and he couldn’t seal the deal.” Pressing the blade to her throat, he cut off her air supply. Using his other hand, he lowered the zipper of his khakis. “He likes to play with the girls, fondle them. But not me, I like to own them. I like to pound into them, hearing them beg me to stop. Emily? Emily, are you listening?”

  As her oxygen supply dwindled, everything became fuzzy for Emily. She stopped fighting back. Everything was going dim.

  He eased up on the pressure on her throat, and lifted himself off her diaphragm. She gulped in life-giving air greedily, her chest heaving with the effort.

  “Good girl.” He held up his hunting knife so she could see it. The moonlight glinted off the silver blade.

  His other hand was stroking his erection. “This isn’t how I’d planned this moment, Emily. I had much more elaborate ideas of what we could do. I wanted to make this last a very, very long time. I wanted to be the one feeling you. I’ve waited all this time. I’m the one who gets to touch you now, Emily.”

  Emily started to tremble as she realized exactly how helpless she was. Tears seeped out of the corners of her eyes.

  “I was eight when he took you, Emily, making you his toy. I was in the next room, sucking on cherry lollipops, watching through the peephole as he held you on his lap and touched you.”

  Releasing his erection, he grabbed her breast through her shirt. Instinctively she moved to push him off her. She’d forgotten about the knife until he plunged it into her shoulder.

  Pain erupted and she screamed. She could feel her blood, warm and sticky, spread from the wound. Its coppery scent mixing with the night air. She dug her fingers into the sand, trying desperately to hold on.

  “Now look what a mess you’ve made.” He yanked the knife back out of her.

  Bailey barreled through the doorway, and past his uncle. They couldn’t be far ahead. He had to get there first.

  Chase had Sebastian propped up against a wall. Applying pressure to his partner’s wound, he asked, “They’re okay?”

  “Laurie and Anna are in there. I’ve got to get to Emily!”

  Bailey galloped down the stairs and out the front door, running the most important race of his life.

  He threw the car into Reverse. Tires spraying gravel, as he sped toward the Snack Shack.

  He stopped the car a block from the sand, not wanting to alert his cousin to his approach. Weapon drawn, he ran the rest of the way to the beach, praying that he’d be on time. That he could save the woman he loved.

  The moonlight glittered off the sand, revealing two figures struggling. Williams, Billy, as they now knew him to be, was on top of Emily.

  They were too far away to get off a shot. Lungs burning from the effort he was expending, Bailey willed his legs to move faster. To carry him closer. To get him there in time. I’m coming, Em.

  She threw sand in Billy’s face, and then punched him in the balls. He reared back.

  Bailey’s heart dropped as he saw the flash of a knife blade in his hand. He pulled the trigger, knowing instinctively he was too late. His shot rang out, echoing off the lake.

  Billy crumpled forward. Both were still.

  “Emily!”

  Chapter 31

  Emily’s vision swam. She was growing weak. This was it.

  Images of Laurie and Bailey flashed before her. She had so much to live for.

  Billy turned his attention to removing her pants. She didn’t have the physical power to resist as he tore at them, but she still had her mantra. I’m not going to die. I’m not going to die. It echoed in her head, giving her the strength to make one last effort.

  “But I want you to know, Emily, that despite all the trouble you were worth it. I can die a happy man having had you.”

  She tightened her grip on the beach, waiting for her moment. Eyes. Nose. Throat.

  “Although I would have been happier if I’d gotten a piece of your sweet sister’s ass too—”

  She flung a handful of sand in his face.

  “Aaaahh!” Temporarily blinded, he clawed at his eyes.

  She couldn’t reach his nose or throat, so she went for his groin. Oblivious of the knife he still held, she lashed out as hard as she could. It was so satisfying to connect with his naked flesh, to hear him cry out in pain.

  Her victory was short-lived as he prepared to retaliate by raising the blade again.

  A sharp crack split the night.

  The blade sank into her again, as he toppled on top of her, smothering her.

  Panicked, she tried to breathe, but couldn’t. She was pinned. She squirmed desperately, trying to get enough leverage to shove him off, but couldn’t.

  “Emily!”

  Bailey.

  It sounded like he was far away.

  “Em?”

  Billy was shoved off her. Suddenly she could see the night sky. She could breathe. She’d never felt so weak. She couldn’t even summon the mantra.

  Bailey leaned over her. “It’s okay, Em. You’re going to be okay.”

  But she knew she was dying.

  There were things she had to say. She had to tell him.

  “Bay.”

  “Shhh. Save your strength.” He cradled her to him, lifting her off the sand, but even that couldn’t chase away the chill that pervaded her whole body.

  Then, as though she were now stuck in a new nightmare that would never end, a shadowy figure loomed behind Bailey.

  Instinctively, with a Herculean effort, she tried to shove Bailey away, just as Billy attempted to plunge the blade of his knife into the man she loved. It still nicked his arm and he let out a gasp of pain.

  “You can’t have her!” Billy shouted.

  Injured, Bailey dropped her back into the sand. Off balance, the sand shifting beneath him, he twisted to face his attacker. He raised his arm protectively as Billy slashed at him again and again.

  A sharp report echoed in the night, and Billy fell to the ground, a horrible sucking sound gurgling from his chest.

  Bailey looked up the beach, in the direction the gunshot had come from. “Chase.”

  Exhausted by her ordeal, Emily’s eyes fluttered closed.

  “Em? It’s going to be okay. Just hold on, sweetheart.” Bailey’s voice shook with an emotion she’d never heard him express before. “Stay with me, Em.”

  “Tell Laurie, tell her I love her.”

  “You tell her yourself. You’re going to be just fine, Em.”

  She tried to shake her head but it was too heavy to move. “And tell her that M-Mark’s her d-dad.”

  “Hang on, sweetheart. Don’t you quit on me.”

  “L-love you, Bay.”

  Raindrops hit her face. Then she realized it wasn’t water falling from the sky, but Bailey’s tears. Then there was no feeling at all. It felt like she was floating, floating free of her body.

  At least Laurie was safe. She took comfort in that thought. She wasn’t dying for nothing.

  Chapter 32

  Emily had died and gone to heaven. She knew this because she could smell pistachio muffins.

  Opening her eyes, her theory was confirmed. A giant basket of nutty, green goodness sat in her line of sight.

  She reached for them, and pain lanced through her shoulder and down her arm. She blinked, confused. She hadn’t thought that anything could hurt in heaven.

  A hand moved the basket out of her reach. “Can’t have those until the doctor gives you the okay,” Laurie admonished.

  Her beautiful sister’s face swam before her. Emily blinked at her. Did this mean she wasn’t dead?

  “Sam sent those over for you.” Mark appeared on the other side of her. “He’s got a thing about hospitals, or else he would have brought them himself.”

  It took a moment to focus on the two fuzzy faces hovering over her. Laurie loo
ked worried. Mark looked tense. They stood on either side of her bed, their heads practically knocking together, peering down at her.

  “Hey.” She wanted to reassure them that she was okay, but squeezing out that single, whispered syllable felt like an adhesive bandage being ripped off a scab. It hurt to talk. It hurt to swallow. It just hurt.

  She remembered Billy crushing her throat, cutting off her air supply. He had done this to her.

  “Don’t talk,” Laurie ordered. “Doctor Wyatt said not to for a few days. You’re going to be fine, but it’ll take a little time for the trauma your body’s suffered to heal.” She parroted the last phrase as though it were the glue that was holding her together.

  Emily raised a hand and cupped Laurie’s cheek, wondering how long, if ever, it would take Laurie to heal from the injuries the doctors couldn’t see. Her eyes filled with tears, and she swallowed hard, which just magnified the pain in her throat.

  Laurie looked across Emily to Mark. “You’ll…?” She trailed off.

  Mark nodded.

  “I’m going to go visit Anna. I’ll be back soon.” Laurie bent and pressed a kiss to Emily’s forehead, before whispering in her ear, “I love you, sis.”

  She hurried out of the room, and Emily looked to Mark, searching for answers. He pulled a chair up to her bed, sat down and picked up her hand. Intertwining their fingers, he seemed to be struggling to find the words to say something difficult.

  “Tell me,” she croaked out despite the stinging pain.

  “Your sister’s right. The doctor did say you shouldn’t talk. I’ve got some bad news.”

  She knew that from the expression on Laurie’s face. She needed to know exactly what was going on.

  “You were stabbed. Twice. You lost a lot of blood. Gave everyone quite a scare.”

  “Sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault. Doctor says that with a little rest and a lot of physical therapy you’ll be as good as new.” He sighed heavily. “Your father wasn’t so lucky. He didn’t make it through the night.”

  Emily felt a twinge of guilt as she wondered whether the way she interrogated him had contributed to his death. She couldn’t lose sleep about that now, though. “Laurie?”

  “She’s upset. Understandably, but she’s been more worried about you than anything else. She knows…about me. She took it pretty well.”

  Emily smiled. Finally some good news.

  “She told me what you did. How you lured Williams…William away, to save her and Anna. Pretty brave stuff.”

  “Bailey?” She was barely able to get out the pained whisper.

  A dark cloud passed over Mark’s face. “You should rest.”

  She grabbed his hand before he could turn away. Wincing from the pain, she silently implored him to tell her.

  “You know that it was his uncle and cousin…?”

  She nodded.

  “They killed his grandmother.”

  She frowned. Poor Bailey. Even though he hadn’t been particularly fond of the old witch, she’d still been family.

  “And Shauna,” Mark whispered.

  Tears stung her eyes. Bay must be devastated. She knew what it was like to love a sister. He’d given up a career with the FBI for his. She’d been willing to die for hers.

  “He saved me,” she croaked.

  Mark smiled. “Of course he did.”

  “If you’re not up to this, I can do it alone,” Chase Morgan offered.

  He and Bailey were standing outside the room where Oliver O’Neil was handcuffed to a table.

  “I appreciate the offer,” Bailey said. “But this is something I have to do.” He had to interrogate his uncle. He needed to get some answers to all the questions that had rolled around his head all night.

  He’d waited until both Emily and Sebastian had come out of their respective surgeries. Both were expected to make full recoveries. Bailey wasn’t so sure about how their uncatalogued injuries would mend. Emily had yet again been subjected to a violent attack. Bailey was afraid it could have permanently scarred her psyche. Sebastian had been shot in the back, which wouldn’t be something his ego could just bounce back from.

  Laurie and Anna had been terrorized too. No doubt their healing wouldn’t happen overnight.

  So much pain and destruction had been caused by the man his DNA was linked to, sitting in the next room.

  Bailey opened the door, his arm throbbing where Billy had stabbed him. He hoped he was strong enough to withstand whatever secrets he was going to unlock by talking to his uncle.

  He didn’t look like a monster, sitting there at the table. He looked like a defeated excuse of a man. “Which one of you killed my boy?”

  “I did.” Chase pulled out a chair and sat down opposite the suspect.

  Bailey followed suit. It had been Sebastian who had insisted that his partner leave him at the Wright house and go after Bailey. If he hadn’t, and if Chase hadn’t been an expert marksman, the outcome of the struggle on the beach could have been much worse.

  Sneering disdainfully, Oliver ran his gaze over Bailey. “Just like your old man, aren’t you? You put on that stupid uniform and think it makes you better than everyone else, but it don’t. It just keeps you from getting caught.”

  “Getting caught?” Bailey asked. As long as his uncle was talking, he was content to allow him to control the direction of the conversation.

  “No one ever figured out what he done to Shauna.”

  Bailey’s whole body went cold at the mention of his sister.

  “He’s the one who put her in that coma, ya know,” Oliver said.

  “No,” Bailey said carefully. “She fell down the stairs.”

  “Bullshit! Is that what he told you? That lying son of a bitch. I shoulda known—”

  “Why don’t you tell us what happened?” Chase interrupted.

  “He got all pissed off one day because of the way she was dressed, all slutty, and he hit her.” Oliver watched Bailey expectantly, waiting for him to react. “Smashed her head right into the wall.”

  Like a prizefighter who’d trained for an event, the shocks of the past few days had conditioned Bailey. This emotional body blow hurt, but wasn’t the knockout punch his uncle had hoped for.

  Oliver kept swinging. “Of course he couldn’t risk losing his career over something like that, so he tossed her body down the stairs, and claimed she fell.”

  As much as he didn’t want to, Bailey believed every word the man sitting across from him was saying. His father had been constantly punishing his sister for the way she dressed, and he’d never hesitated to make his point to either of his children with a well-placed slap or punch.

  Clearing his throat, Chase took control of the interrogation, offering Bailey a momentary respite. “Tell me about making the dolls.”

  Oliver O’Neil puffed out his chest. “They were beautiful weren’t they?”

  Chase nodded. “You obviously took a lot of pride in making them look just so. Tell me about it.”

  “Real girls are nasty, dirty things, but those dolls…” Oliver trailed off dreamily.

  Bailey struggled to swallow the bile that rose in his throat. How could his father have protected this monster?

  “Did you take Emily Wright because you wanted to make her a doll?”

  “I just wanted to play with her. That little bitch cut me!” Oliver held out his palm, displaying an age-whitened scar that slashed across his palm.

  Bailey’s finger twitched. He had traced an almost identical mark on Emily’s hand.

  “Your brother knew it was you who had taken her?” Chase asked.

  “Not until after she escaped.”

  A little bit of the unrelenting tension that wrapped around Bailey’s chest like a vise, loosened a little. One of his worst fears wasn’t true. His dad hadn’t left Emily to suffer at the hands of this monster.

  “Stupid fool came crashing through the woods after me,” Oliver continued. “All ready to play hero, but he couldn’t.”r />
  “Why not?” Chase asked.

  “’Cuz I told him I’d tell the world about what he’d done to Shauna.”

  Chase shot Bailey a look, silently asking him if he believed the man’s story.

  Bailey nodded. Unfortunately he did.

  Chapter 33

  Emily sank back into her hospital bed, exhausted. She’d had a nonstop stream of visitors all day. Laurie had hung around for hours. Even though Emily couldn’t do much more than nod or shake her head, Laurie had had a lot to talk about, not the least of which was her feelings about her newfound father. While Laurie had seemed angry with their mother for keeping the secret, mostly she seemed eager to get to know Mark and the rest of the Castles. Emily was relieved that while she’d had a lot thrown at her over the past couple of days, her little sister seemed to be handling it better than she’d expected. The kid was more resilient than Emily had given her credit for.

  Returning after a few hours, Mark had convinced them that both sisters needed their rest. He had taken Laurie back to The Garden Gate with him to meet her half sister Ginny with the promise they’d return in the evening.

  Even after they left, Emily hadn’t been alone. Anna and Evan Swann came by next. Emily’s heart had broken when she’d looked into Anna’s eyes and seen the hollowness that had taken the place of her usual spark. The girl had seen things no one should ever have to see. She’d survived an ordeal, the horror of which no one else could imagine. Still, she managed a crooked smile when she’d walked into Emily’s room, and introduced Evan as her father. Thankfully it was one of the things Laurie had told her sister, so her jaw didn’t drop open.

  “It’s ironic,” Evan said. “The girl I rescued grew up to save my little girl.”

  Emily felt worn out by the time Special Agent Chase Morgan stopped by. Thankfully his visit was short. He hadn’t asked any taxing questions. He stayed just long enough to explain what they’d been able to piece together, and to update her on Agent Black’s condition.