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The Impostor, A Love Story

Page 26

by Tiffany Carmouche


  “Of course I can, Nikki.”

  “I’m a little nervous to go there by myself. He’s evil, Brad. I talked to his ex-wife today . . .”

  Just then, the phone rang. Brad turned to answer it. “Oh yes, she’s expecting your call.” He handed me the phone. Detective Jackson? he mouthed.

  “Nicole, this is Detective Jackson. I got your message.”

  “Yeah, I heard you were picking up Steve tonight and just wanted to confirm that he will not be there tomorrow. I have to get some things out of the house.”

  “Yes, we will be picking him up this evening, but why don’t you wait. I can meet you there around two o’clock so you don’t have to go alone. Judy will be picking him out in a lineup in the morning. Don’t go back there this evening. You be careful. He is extremely dangerous.”

  “I won’t go this evening. So I’ll see you at two?”

  “Two o’clock. I will meet you at the house.”

  I felt so much more relieved. “Brad, Steve is supposed to be in prison tomorrow, and Detective Jackson is going to meet me at the house. But just in case, I’d feel better if you could be on call. Your sister lives close by.”

  “Sure, Nicole. Try my cell, in some areas I don’t have service, but you have Karen’s number. Call me if you need me. I’ll be only fifteen minutes away. I don’t want you to go alone.”

  “I’m sure I'll be fine with Detective Jackson. But it’s always good to have a back-up plan.” I put my hand over his. “Thank you, Bradley.”

  Chapter Forty-two

  “I’ll see you really soon, angel. I promise! Can you take care of Grandma and Grandpa for me?”

  “I will, Mommy. I don’t want to go.” Tears filled both our eyes as she clung to me.

  “I’ll be home soon.”

  “You promise?” Emily asked. She didn’t want to leave me alone.

  “I promise!”

  “And you will tell Chris why I left?”

  “I’ll tell him for you, Em. He’ll understand. I’m staying at Brad’s tonight, and I’ll try and see if I can stay with Katie tomorrow. I’ll probably crash at her place till I can get my own. I think she will be fine with it. Tell Mom I’ll try and give her a call this weekend. No news is good news. You all be safe! Call the bar and leave a message when you get in so I know you’re okay.”

  “Don’t go back to that house alone, Nikki. I’m serious.”

  “I won’t go till he’s locked up, I promise. Detective Jackson is meeting me there. I’ll be fine.” I didn’t feel fine, but I didn’t want her to worry.

  I hugged both of them goodbye, and then watched the plane fly off the horizon.

  At two o’clock, I slowly drove down Steve’s driveway, realizing his truck wasn’t there. There was an unfamiliar car parked out front. That must be Officer Jackson’s car. He must be inside. It gave me comfort. They must have arrested Steve last night when he was out driving.

  When I entered the house, I jumped, startled that Steve was sitting at the table.

  “You didn’t come home last night. I started to worry.” He had a sinister look in his eyes—one that I had never seen before. I looked at the door, wanting to run out of it, but trying to keep my cool.

  “I was too tired to drive, so we stayed with Katie. I have to go pick up Jessica soon.” I wouldn’t dare tell him she was on a plane.

  In my mind I was thinking, “You dirty, sick, beast.” I was hoping that he would leave. Please God, let him leave.

  “I have my truck in the shop. I need to do an oil change on it. Then maybe I can go with you to get her.”

  “Yeah, that would be great.” There is no way I’m getting in a car with you. The thought of being around him made me nauseous, but I’d say anything to get him out of the house.

  When I saw that he was safely inside the mechanic shop, I ran upstairs just to confirm what I had heard.

  My heart pounding, I first ducked into the kids’ room. She was right. There was nothing in the drawers. The closet was empty as well. A show—it was all just a show. I peered out the window. He hadn’t left the shop, so I snuck into his bedroom, my heart racing.

  My curiosity took over, and I lifted the mattress and found a hand full of credit cards and IDs with his picture on them. I picked them up. They all had different names. I fell to my knees. A collection of DVDs was scattered under the mattress—all kinds of porn: bondage, child pornography, torture—and pictures. I snatched up a handful of pictures and fumbled through them. My jaw dropped. There were pictures of me, pictures of Emily, and pictures of Jess—photos of us getting dressed. Somehow he had taken them in the downstairs bedrooms.

  I had to get out of there. I had to get out before he caught me in his bedroom. I bolted to the door, shaking. I rushed to the car and jumping inside.

  Frantically, I turned the ignition. Nothing happened. I had to leave. I turned it again. It wouldn’t start. Goosebumps prickled the back of my neck.

  What the hell? My hands cradled my head and sighed. Grabbing the steering wheel, I pumped the gas, turning the ignition again. Nothing, damn it! I screamed, banging on the dashboard. This made no sense. I just drove here. My car was just working.

  Steve startled me, tapping on the window. I jumped, and then quickly tried to hide my terror. I was a trapped animal in a cage.

  “What’s wrong, Nicole? Your car isn’t starting?” His voice sounded eerie. Shit what do I do now?

  “Yeah, it was just working. I don’t understand.” He must have done something to it. I stuck my keys in my jacket pocket.

  “It’s probably just the cold. I can give you a ride to pick up Jessica.” Shit, what do I say? I couldn’t get in a car with him. My car wasn’t working. How was I going to leave? Panicking, I came up with an idea.

  “Steve, can you do me a favor? Can you pick her up for me? I’m so sick of driving and want to take a nap. The address is inside. Let me go get it.” I got out of the car, grabbing my purse.

  “Of course, Nicole. That will be no problem.” Thank god, Jessica was on her way home. He didn’t have to know that.

  “Do you think you will be able to fix the car? I have to take Emily to the airport tomorrow. If not, do you think you could bring her?” I felt sick, but was trying to act as normal as possible.

  I had to think of someplace far—someplace that would give me the time to get away from here. He followed me into the house as I wrote down an address of a place Dylan had taken me to. It was a precious little cottage that had such a quaint little restaurant in it. I remembered the address because it was so cute 1234 Fairy Lane. I wrote 1232 Fairy Lane in case he had ever been there and gave him directions the best I knew how. It was over an hour away, so I knew I would have time to get out of there. Officer Jackson would be here soon, or I could call a cab.

  “Are you sure it’s not too far? Jess went with the family to the girl’s grandparents’ house yesterday.”

  “That is fine. I would be happy to get her so you can get some rest.”

  It was like he was eager to get her alone. He thought he was going to have my daughter all to himself. I couldn’t bear to think of it. I ran to the bathroom and threw up.

  “Are you okay?” he called out to me.

  “I’m sorry. I think I got a bug.” I wiped my face with the hand towel and went back into the living room.

  He grinned, the gap in between his stained front teeth accentuating the clenched gold caps. His eyes narrowed as if he was contemplating a devious plan. The smirk was forced, calculated, sinister.

  “You get some rest, Nicole. I will take good care of Jessica.”

  Chapter Forty-three

  Steve walked out the door. The cold, bitter air bit me as if to warn me, “If you try to leave, you won’t survive a day in the cold Alaskan winter.” The highway was miles down the road, and very few drivers traversed these gravel roadways. My stomach turned as if I had eaten something rotten, but it wasn’t something I ate. I was in danger.

  I rushed to the phone and
dialed the cab company. The phone was dead. I panicked for a moment, flicking the button. It was still dead. Examining the phone, I discovered the cord was not connected to the wall. Was that why I hadn’t heard from Dylan? I connected the outlet and began dialing again.

  “I need a cab at 224 Burgundy Lane,” I began with urgency in my voice.

  “I don’t have a driver that can go out there right now, ma’am. There is a three-hour wait.”

  “A three-hour wait? It’s an emergency. Please, sir.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. I can’t help you.”

  I didn’t bother saying good-bye as I slammed the phone down. “What can I do? Where’s Officer Jackson?” I exclaimed in the silence. I realized I had left his card at the bar.

  Picking up the phone, I dialed 911, babbling frantically. “Someone is trying to kill me. I’m stuck in this house, and I’m scared he is coming back to kill me.”

  “Did someone threaten you? Is someone there?”

  “No, I’m alone, but I think he’s coming back.”

  “Calm down, ma’am. Are you at 224 Burgundy Lane?”

  “Yes.”

  “I will send an officer over.”

  “Please hurry. I’m stuck in the house, and I am really scared.”

  The beautiful house set back in the Alaskan mountains was now a prison, especially because no one knew I was there alone. The picture-perfect window, the same window from which I had searched for the magic of the aurora borealis, was now a screen to the miles of wilderness I would have to overcome in order to escape.

  I looked at my stranded car through the bay window. I had to find a way to get out of here. Why hadn’t I left with Emily? I picked the receiver back up and began dialing frantically, but got the answering machine at Brad’s sister’s house.

  “Bradley, I don’t know what to do. I’m really scared. I’m at Steve’s.” My heart was pounding. “If you’re there, please pick up. Karen? Are you there? Brad, do you hear me? Please pick up. I’m terrified.”

  My head jerked in the direction of a sound.

  “Shit. I hear him; he’s coming back. Damn, I don’t know what to do. I gotta go.” My stomach twisted in knots. I realized I had to escape. Running downstairs to my room, I froze.

  My Breath. Loud. Short. Almost as if my mouth was already covered. I must be quiet. “Dear Lord, please protect me . . . please protect me . . .” I closed my eyes and took another breath, whispering, “Please.”

  Breathe. Breathe. What was he doing? Breathe slowly. Breathe slowly. I glanced around and found a window I could escape from. It was small, but I thought I could squeeze through. I made my way to the glass. I pulled with all my might. It was stuck. I yanked at the window. It wouldn’t move. Then I realized the glass wasn’t stuck . . . it was locked. The window was locked from the outside.

  Silently, I waited. I peeked out the tiny window. There was no truck. He isn’t here. It wasn’t Steve, I rushed upstairs. I grabbed the phone and dialed Brad’s cell number, hoping he had service.

  “Brad. Please pick up, Bradley.”

  He answered the phone.“ Nicole?”

  I babbled before he could get another word in. “I‘m at Steve’s . . . my car . . . my car isn’t starting. Please hurry. Steve—Steve is wanted, Bradley. He is wanted for murder. I’m scared. I’m really scared. Please Bradley, please help me! Officer Jackson isn’t here. I called the police, but I want to get the hell out of here. Bradley, please.”

  “I’ll leave right now. I can get there in about fifteen minutes. Be careful, Nicole. I’ll get there as fast as I can.” I could hear the concern in Brad’s voice.

  “I’m so scared.”

  “Get out of the house as soon as you can. Nicole, you have to hide. Get out of the house. Wear your coat, Nicole. It’s freezing out there. Be careful.”

  Fifteen minutes, fifteen whole minutes. Didn’t his sister tell him I called? What if Steve realized I was lying about Jessica? What if he forgot something? He could be back any minute.

  Waiting seemed like an eternity.

  Dropping my purse, I grabbed a coat and gloves from the closet. They were still damp from when Jessica and I had played in the snow yesterday. I dropped them on the floor. They would do me no good damp. I layered a sweater under my jacket to keep me warm and searched to see if there was anything else I could wear. Most of my warm clothes were either damp or in the storage unit. As I passed by the mirror, I saw the locket Steve had given me wrapped around my neck. I ripped it off, disgusted. I tried quickly to pry Jessica’s picture out of it, damaging the picture instead. I threw the necklace on the dresser, and then wrapped myself in a blanket and ran outside.

  Should I hide in the woods? Where is the detective!

  The cold air stung. I saw the shop down the hill. It would be warmer inside the mechanic shop. I’d hide there.

  Running to the front door of the shop, I anxiously turned the knob. It was locked. Nervously, I searched the building for a window or another door so I could protect myself from the cold. Why is it locked? Is he hiding something inside? In the back, I discovered a small window I could fit through. Jumping, I found it out of my reach. The bitter cold bit my naked hands, as I clutched the blanket around me.

  I found a barrel that had been abandoned in the trees. I tugged at it. I finally dislodged it from the snow and rolled it toward the small building. My heart still raced. Brad, please hurry. I steadied it against the side of the shelter and climbed upon it to see if the window was open. Pulling myself up I grabbed onto the window ledge. What the hell am I doing? What if he has axes in there or ropes or dead bodies? I pushed at the window, but the pane was locked.

  The crunch of the snow from a vehicle’s wheels startled me as it came down the driveway. I peered around the building, and I prayed I would see the red and blue lights of a police car, but they didn’t appear.

  Shit. It’s too early for Brad to be here. I was afraid to move. Anywhere I went would leave tracks. How could I explain being on a barrel trying to get into the locked shop? I glanced around. I had already made a path of footprints in the snow. What if he saw them? I took my hands off the ledge and the barrel began to rock. I held back onto the ledge to steady myself.

  Peeking around the shop, I saw the bumper of a truck and heard someone get out of the vehicle. They were coming toward the shop. I listened as each footstep seeped into the snow. Suddenly, the noise stopped. He must have seen my footprints. What could I do?

  My breath seeped out of my mouth as if I was on fire. The smoke from my lips sent up signals to give away my position. Why wasn’t he moving? Or was he moving? Had he begun to prowl? My eyes darted around. Should I jump? Should I run?

  My body started to shake. I am going to die. My nose burned. I tried to hold my breath, but it caused me to gasp.

  Had he heard me? Had he detected my tracks? Was I to be hunted like an animal? Suddenly, the movement seemed to head toward the house. My heart still pounding against my chest, I could hear the stride move further away from the shop. Was it safe to run? Should I run? How would Brad find me?

  I was cold, so cold. My ears stung.

  I had to find something—something to help me defend myself in case he came back this way. Something big I could protect myself with. I searched the forest from my little barrel. I saw broken branches, but they were either too big or too small for me to use to defend myself. He entered the house. I searched the area for a place to hide. Then suddenly before I could move, the door slammed shut.

  “That bitch!” I heard him scream. I froze.

  The footsteps were now moving away from the house and back toward me. I have to get down. I am freezing. Maybe if I just stay here, he won’t find me. The strides got louder and louder, coming closer and closer to the shop.

  If I ran, I would only get a few feet before his long stride overtook mine. It was silent again. I leaned against the shop. The barrel started to wobble.

  I could hear the door to the truck slam shut and the wheels ski
d on the snow as it drove away. I jumped off the barrel. Pins stabbed my feet as I landed and tried to make my way around the building.

  The cold had entered my joints, and I could barely move from behind the shop. Each unbearable step stabbed in my feet, crippling me as I walked. There was a pine tree up ahead. I could burrow myself under there until Brad got here. I was so cold.

  With each piercing step, I finally stumbled over to the pine tree. I climbed underneath. Oh, the pine needles made the perfect bed. I pulled some over me, trying to slightly cover myself. My blanket was now soaked and worthless. I waited. Where was he? Where was he? I made myself into a little ball. Somehow, it seemed warmer that way.

  I heard the rattling sound of a truck speeding down the driveway. My heart started pounding with anticipation. I shivered uncontrollably. Who could it be? My body ached from the intense chill. Should I cry out for help? Or must I stay silent? I listened as the tire tracks came closer.

  A throbbing pain stung my skin. I held my breath and tried to lay undetected. Am I to be saved? Or am I . . . about . . . to be hunted?

  “Nicole? Nicole, are you here? Nicole?”

  Was the call real?

  “Nicole?” It was Brad.

  “I’m here.” Only a whisper came out. I couldn’t move; my limbs were numb.

  “Brad, I’m here.” I couldn’t speak. Fear had stolen my voice. “Brad, please save me.” I was screaming with all my might, but only a whisper left my lips. No voice echoed throughout the mountains.

  “Brad.” I cleared my throat. “Brad.” My cry became a little stronger. “Bradley.” Please hear me. “Braad!” I could hear his feet crunch through the snow in my direction.

  “Nicole, where are you, you okay?”

 

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