She didn’t see any lights on in her neighbors’ floating homes. It was quiet—except for the sound of water lapping against the pilings.
“Anna?” whispered someone behind her.
She swiveled around. For a moment, she didn’t see anyone.
Then Taylor emerged from the shadows.
Anna gasped at her bruised face. “My God, Taylor,” she whispered. “You scared me! Are you okay? Everyone’s been so worried.”
“Just unlock the gate, okay?” she said under her breath.
Anna realized Taylor wasn’t signing while she spoke. She also noticed the half-concealed gun in Taylor’s hand. It was pointed at her.
Anna’s heart was still racing, but she let out a baffled little laugh and gestured at the gun. “What—what’s that for?”
“Just in case,” she replied. “Unlock the gate, Anna.”
Still bewildered, Anna unlocked the gate and opened it. Then she turned to Taylor. “I don’t understand. Just in case what?”
“I need you to do some things you won’t want to do. I have the gun just in case you give me an argument.” She nodded toward the dock. “Get moving.”
Anna noticed Taylor’s slightly impaired speech was almost completely gone. “I still don’t understand any of this. What are you talking about?”
“I’m saying that I’m going to kill you, you stupid bitch.”
Dumbfounded, Anna stared at her for a moment.
“Open the gate.”
Anna tried not to panic. She immediately thought of the advantage she had over Taylor. Covering her mouth, she turned her head away from Taylor. “I need help!” she called out in a loud, shaky voice. “Can anyone hear me?”
“I hear you, Anna,” Taylor said.
Stunned, Anna gaped at her. “You can hear?”
Taylor nodded. “Your neighbors can’t help you, Anna. The Gettles and the Britzes aren’t home tonight. That’s one reason I decided to do this now. C’mon, move. I don’t want to take any chances with people passing by. I can’t afford to be seen out and about right now.”
Anna started toward the house, but then hesitated and turned to speak to Taylor. “How do you know about my neighbors’ schedules?”
“I have a helper,” Taylor answered cryptically.
Anna gave a stunned little laugh. “I still can’t believe any of this. You can hear me?”
“I’ve heard you this whole time, Anna,” she said. “Keep walking.”
Anna reluctantly continued on toward her front door. Taylor remained behind her.
“I had cochlear implant surgery several weeks ago,” she heard Taylor explain in a voice which seemed so strange coming from her. “They gave me a new chip, no external hardware needed. I can hear noises, voices, music, though sometimes I still have to read lips to fully comprehend what people are saying. The surgery was a success. But then I decided: Wouldn’t it be fun if people had no idea that I could hear them? I felt like one of those teenage superheroes in Courtney’s books. The surgery has helped me to listen and learn to enunciate better, maybe not perfect, but better. I can talk in this voice, and no one recognizes the old Taylor. It’s another one of my superpowers. I can eavesdrop on conversations—and still read the lips of people across a room. You should hear some of the awful things people say in front of you when they think you’re deaf. My mother gets the prize for that.”
“That’s just crazy,” Anna muttered.
“If I pretend I’m still deaf, it makes me more like Courtney.”
Anna stopped at the door and turned to lock eyes with Taylor. “You killed her, didn’t you?”
“We’ll talk inside.”
Anna unlocked the door and opened it. Taylor stepped in after her, and once inside, she was less furtive about the gun. She pointed it at the door. “Lock up.”
Frowning, Anna followed her orders.
She’d left the hallway closet open, and still had some junk scattered on the floor. Taylor seemed to take it all in. She cracked a smug smile. “Were you looking for something?”
“You killed Courtney and then tried to frame me for it,” Anna said. “What did she do to you, Taylor? What did she do to make you hate her so much that you’d bash her head in?”
“I loved Courtney,” Taylor said, still holding Anna at gunpoint. “She and Russ were the perfect couple, so beautiful together. Then you came along and fucked it all up. If Courtney was going to share her husband and her life with anyone, it should have been me. The three of us could have been like a family. Sure, it would have been unconventional, to say the least. But special people sometimes have their own special rules.” She glared at Anna with disgust in her eyes. “Then Russ took up with you. Talk about stupid, such a waste. The whole time I was watching you two, all those months, I kept thinking: What in the world does he see in her?”
Anna kept shaking her head. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Well, Russ is falling in love with me now,” Taylor said, gloating. “We’ve been hostages together for only a day, and already he’s kissed me.”
“Russ is alive?” Anna murmured.
Taylor nodded. “The suicide on the Tacoma Narrows Bridge was faked with a little assistance from my friend CJ. I’m the mysterious 911 lady. Isn’t that perfect? No one would think a poor little deaf girl would be communicating so clearly on a cheap burner phone. It was pretty funny to watch my mother on her show talk about the anonymous witness. The last person she suspected was her sweet, innocent daughter.”
“But Russ is alive,” Anna repeated—almost to herself.
“All this time, he’s been locked up in a trailer at a very remote spot near Edmonds. He thinks he’s being held prisoner by someone who is obsessed with deaf women and you. Russ is just starting to get a taste of Bud’s obsession with you. I think it’s dawning on him that Bud is your self-appointed protector. Bud made him write that suicide note, exonerating you in Courtney’s death. And he thinks Bud abducted me because I had the recorded confession you made. Russ has even heard part of it. I’m seeing to it that he slowly gets used to the idea that you killed Courtney. All of this will become very clear to Russ in the next couple of days while we share our little jail cell together—a jail cell with a big queen bed in it. I’ll work on him. People who are thrown together in a crisis situation often fall in love. It’s already happening to us. He’s very gentle with me, Anna. You should have seen the loving way he tended to my bruises.”
“I still don’t understand any of this. Is Bud actually your friend CJ?”
Taylor grinned. “Congratulations. Go to the head of the class. You understand more than you think you do.”
“Then CJ isn’t really deaf, either,” Anna said. “Tell me, what does he get out of this?”
“He gets to be a celebrity. Those fifteen minutes of fame on The Sally Justice Show were the thrill of a lifetime for him. And speaking of thrills, I see to it that his peculiar needs are satiated. You see, CJ gets his kicks in strange ways. For example, I know he secretly enjoyed beating me up.”
“Did he enjoy killing your mother’s soundman and his wife—and Bianca Dunn? He murdered them, didn’t he? Or was that your handiwork?”
Taylor nodded. “That was CJ. I got what I needed from Gordy and Bianca. After that, they became a liability.”
“You know, Taylor, the audio confession you worked so hard on, it might have rattled me at first. I’ll admit that. But it’ll never stand up under police scrutiny. A decent soundman would listen to a minute of it and know it’s all edited together. I only heard snippets over the phone before I figured that out.”
“The recording wasn’t meant for the police,” Taylor said. “I wanted Russ to hear part of it so that he’d think you killed Courtney. And I wanted you to hear it—to drive you a little insane and make you wonder whether or not you could have murdered her. Tell me the truth, Anna, it worked, didn’t it? I had you worried.” She glanced around at the mess Anna had made earlier. “You don’t even ha
ve to tell me. I can see for myself.”
“Was it really worth the lives of three people, Taylor?”
“Bianca was a con artist who ripped off dozens of suckers. As for Gordy Savage and his wife, they had so many addictions, debts, and problems, they’re better off dead. So don’t get sanctimonious with me, Anna.” She took a deep breath. “Speaking of suicides, we need to get started on yours. Now, I need you to write a note.” She pointed with the gun at the doorway to the second bedroom. “I believe the study is that way—if memory serves me correctly.”
Anna didn’t move. “You’ve been in here before.”
She nodded. “Several times—since last October.”
“So, you were the one behind all those little acts of sabotage.”
Taylor chuckled. “I think my favorite was planting that dead seagull in the middle of your living room. I wish I had been around to see your reaction.” Taylor’s smirk faded, and she suddenly looked dead serious. “You never should have come between Russ and Courtney. It was a terrible, contemptible mistake, Anna.” With the gun, she motioned to the second bedroom again. “Now, let’s get started on that note. I want you to get out some paper and a pen.”
Anna reluctantly headed into her mother’s old bedroom. On her way to the desk, she stepped over the exercise equipment and other objects scattered on the floor. She opened the top desk drawer and took out a writing tablet and a pen.
“My God, these weights and the straps are perfect for what I have in mind,” Taylor said—almost to herself. “Now, sit down at the desk and write what I tell you—in your handwriting. No block letters. I want that Catholic schoolgirl scribble of yours, Anna. Go ahead, sit down.”
Anna sank into the chair and picked up the pen. She felt sick to her stomach. Her hand started shaking, and she wasn’t sure she could write legibly.
“Okay, write this down,” Taylor said, standing over her. “I can’t go on living with myself after what I’ve done . . . period.” She paused while Anna wrote. “Russ had no idea about any of it ... period. He’s an innocent man . . . period.” She waited for another few moments until Anna had jotted it down. “I hated to see him take the blame . . . period. I miss him, and feel responsible for his watery suicide . . . period. I have decided to join him in eternity . . . period.”
Anna wrote it down. She figured anyone even remotely acquainted with her would know she’d never write corny stuff like watery suicide and join him in eternity. She handed the note to Taylor.
As Taylor looked over the letter, Anna saw it as an opportunity to catch her off guard and wrestle the gun away. But before Anna even made a move, Taylor looked over the top of the piece of paper.
“Perfect on the first try.” She handed the note back to her. “Let’s tape this on the glass door to your deck. I want people to see it before they step outside and notice the dinghy is missing.”
Her stomach in knots, Anna got the Scotch tape out of her drawer and followed orders. As she taped the note onto the sliding door, she could see Taylor’s reflection in the darkened glass. She was standing behind her with the gun drawn, watching her every move.
“See the sports cruiser out there?” Taylor asked. “That’s CJ. He’ll be accompanying us on our journey tonight.”
Anna gazed out at the boat drifting on the water about a hundred feet from her dock. Only a cabin light was on. All its other lights were off. She couldn’t see anyone on the boat.
“All right, time for a bit of heavy lifting,” Taylor said. “You’re going to load some of that exercise equipment onto your dinghy. Quickly now, we don’t have all night.”
As they returned to the study, Taylor said she just needed the heavier barbells, the ropes, and the straps. It took two trips to load everything into the boat tied to Anna’s dock. Anna kept stepping over and weaving around stacks of junk on the floor. On the second trip out to the dock, she had to ask: “So—where is it? Where did you hide the glass trophy you used to kill Courtney?”
Taylor followed her out to the dock. She watched Anna load the second batch of weights and straps into the dinghy. “Courtney’s award,” she said, laughing. “I was particularly proud of that little stroke of genius. I figured it would really drive you insane, believing that glass thing was somewhere around here. Shades of Lady Macbeth and ‘Out, damned spot!’ The thing had my fingerprints all over it—along with Courtney’s blood.” She glanced out toward the water. “I tossed it out there somewhere. It’s at the bottom of the lake.”
Standing in the boat, Anna stared up at her. “That ‘confession’ you and Bianca—or should I say Dr. Tolman—that confession you had me recite while I was under, that’s pretty much how it happened when you killed Courtney, isn’t it?”
A frown came to Taylor’s bruised face. The light breeze tousled her brown hair. “Yes, that’s pretty much how it happened,” she said quietly.
“You didn’t intend to kill her, but she pushed you over the edge, didn’t she? What did she say to you, Taylor? What did she do?”
Taylor backed up to shut the sliding glass door—with Anna’s suicide note taped to the other side. She gave a brief wave at her friend on the sports cruiser drifting nearby.
Anna glanced down at the weights and straps inside the little boat.
Join him in eternity . . . watery suicide . . .
It was suddenly clear to Anna what Taylor had planned for her.
“Sit down,” Taylor said.
Obediently, Anna sat down in the boat—her back to the outboard motor.
Without taking her eyes—or the gun—off her, Taylor carefully stepped into the dinghy. “I’ll tell you what happened that night,” she said, “once we’re out on the lake—in deeper water.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
At the end of the long, winding gravel driveway, Russ stopped to catch his breath. He braced a hand against a rickety, old, rural-style mailbox on the roadside. His right foot throbbed from having kicked out the panel beneath the bathroom sink earlier. And his left sock was soaked with blood from the cut along his calf.
When he’d started running up the driveway, Russ hadn’t realized it was mostly uphill and about two city blocks long. The unlit gravel drive snaked through the pitch-dark woods. Russ had hoped he’d see a light through the trees somewhere—or maybe at the end of the driveway. But as he held on to the mailbox and finally started to get his breath, he glanced in one direction and then the other, and things looked decidedly bleak.
He’d reached a deserted two-lane road that cut through a huge wooded area. As far as Russ could see in both directions, there wasn’t a light or a road sign.
He figured there had to be other driveways to other private residences off this lonely road. He simply couldn’t see them from here. He’d find one of those homes and get help. He probably wouldn’t even need to knock on the door. Anyone living in these woods would probably call 911 at the first glimpse of a stranger approaching their home—especially at this hour.
Back at that dilapidated little rambler, Russ had noticed that the clock on the microwave read 11:47. But he wasn’t sure if that was right or not.
He’d gone through the house, hoping against hope to find the duffel bag with his phone in it. But he had a feeling the bag had been left inside his car parked on the Tacoma Narrows Bridge.
In his search through the house, Russ had also hoped to find some clue to help explain Taylor’s involvement in whatever the hell was going on. Was her story about being molested and beaten while tied to a kitchen chair complete bullshit? Russ had seen her bruises. They were real. Had she let Bud beat her—merely to elicit Russ’s sympathy and trust? It had sure worked. He’d been completely duped.
All those trips she’d taken to the bathroom before their escape attempt—had she been somehow communicating with the guy, telling him what to expect? She could have had a cell phone on her.
Russ now wondered if Taylor was even deaf. He remembered seeing her react when the screen door had slammed shortly before the guy
had come to drag her out of the RV. Only a hearing person would have noticed that.
Russ had heard the car door open and shut twice when his captor had driven off a couple of hours ago. He was now convinced Taylor had left with him—of her own volition. But even if she’d been bullshitting him all this time, Russ still believed what Taylor had said about Bud having a fixation on Anna. Russ couldn’t help thinking that they were going after her tonight. He had to warn her.
Once he got to a phone, he’d call Anna before he did anything else.
Russ hobbled into the middle of the seemingly endless road. He still had no idea where he was. He started to look for little breaks along the roadside that might indicate a driveway.
That was when he noticed a faint light in the distance where the highway came to a peak. The light grew brighter and brighter—until a pair of headlights appeared on the dark horizon.
“Thank you, God,” he whispered.
But it suddenly dawned on him. What if it was Bud and Taylor returning?
For a moment, Russ wasn’t sure what to do. Should he stand in the middle of the road waving his arms or go hide in the woods? It was still too far away to discern if the vehicle was a black Jetta. He’d have to wait until the car was much closer. In the meantime, he stood his ground.
It looked like a regular car, not a truck or a van.
Russ started waving his arms. He figured if it was the Jetta, he’d just make a run for it into the woods.
The vehicle hurtled down the hill toward him. Russ presumed the driver must have noticed him by now. He frantically waved and signaled for the driver to stop.
He could hear the humming engine and pebbles snapping beneath the tires. He yelled out over the noise: “Stop, please! Stop!”
The car zeroed in on him. For a moment, the whole section of road seemed to light up. Then the driver must have turned on the brights, because Russ was blinded. He heard the screeching tires. The sound was deafening.
Panicked, he leapt toward the shoulder of the road.
But he was too late.
The Night She Disappeared Page 37
