by Debra Webb
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
815 Wheeler Avenue, HPD 3:10 AM
“I’m not talking until my attorney is present.”
Braddock stalked back and forth in front of the interview table.
Cooper leaned across the table, glaring at Jenkins. “Listen, you little piece of shit, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll start talking now.”
Jenkins moved his head side to side. “No way.”
They’d put off allowing his call to an attorney in hopes of getting the truth out of him. The little bastard wasn’t budging. Considering he didn’t have a fucking clue what was happening, Braddock couldn’t waste any more time. Every minute that passed allowed for the unexpected. He couldn’t risk waiting this bastard out.
Braddock glanced at Cooper. “Go have a smoke.”
She straightened, looked at her partner. “I quit smoking.”
“Then go take a piss,” he growled.
“Look.” She turned to him. “This is one of those moments, Braddock. I’m your partner—you can’t go doing stupid shit without me.”
“Out,” he ordered.
She looked from him to Jenkins, heaved a frustrated sigh, and walked out. Slammed the door.
Jenkins licked his lips, shifted as best he could considering his skinny ass was shackled to the chair. “You fucking touch me and I’ll file charges, Braddock. The chief, the mayor . . . they’re all watching this case. You can’t fuck this up.”
Braddock walked around behind him. He no longer felt angry or frustrated. He just wanted to tear this little fucker’s head off. He grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head back. “Don’t worry, the only thing I’m going to fuck up is you.” Then he rammed the muzzle of his service revolver against Jenkins’s temple. “Now talk.”
Jenkins screamed.
Braddock released the safety on his weapon. The click resonated in the room.
“Okay! Okay!” Jenkins wailed. “It wasn’t Nash. He killed Celeste, but he didn’t kill the others.”
“And how would you know this?” Fury pounded once more in Braddock’s temples.
“Because . . .” Jenkins’s eyes were wild with fear and something else Braddock couldn’t label. “Because I was his lover. He confided in me!” Jenkins sobbed. “Told me everything.”
“And you”—Braddock twisted his hair, garnering a yelp—“were his snitch.”
“Yes! Yes! Please . . . please don’t kill me.”
“Is there a video?”
“Yes.” Jenkins dragged in a quavering breath. “Yes,” he whimpered. “I know where it’s at. I can take you to it.”
4:50 AM
The screen flickered and images came into view.
Braddock had accompanied Jenkins to where Nash’s SUV had been towed by the forensic folks and retrieved the video from its hiding place. By the time they got back to the station the whole fucking world was standing by, casting accusatory looks at Braddock.
Like he gave a shit. He’d done what he had to do.
He and Cooper sat up straighter as images came into focus on the screen.
“You will do it!” Cost screamed at Shelley.
“Rewind it,” Braddock ordered. His body literally shook with the anticipation now.
“Rewind.” Cooper pressed the necessary button and the whir of the tape sounded. A click indicated it was back at the beginning. Cooper pressed play.
Shelley opened the front door and Cost stormed in.
“Fast-forward,” Braddock ordered. “Do it slow, where we can see what’s happening.”
“Forward search,” Cooper said as she pressed another button.
Braddock’s heart threatened to burst out of his chest as he watched the altercation between Cost and Shelley play out without the sound effects. Finally the bastard stormed out the door. Shelley leaned against it and cried.
His heart ached for what this would do to CJ if she saw it.
The images faded to black. What the hell? There had to be more than that.
The screen flickered and Shelley was opening the door again. “Hit play,” Braddock ordered.
Cooper hit play.
“What do you want?”
Edward Abbott stepped into view.
“What the fuck?” Braddock muttered.
“You made the first move, Shelley,” Abbott said. “This is your game. What do you want?”
Shelley went toe-to-toe with the man and stuck her finger in his face. “I want you to stay away from my sister. I know what you’re up to, and if you don’t back off, I’m going to tell her about the cameras . . . about everything! Then she won’t ever have anything to do with you again.”
Abbott stared at her a moment. “Your whole life you’ve done nothing but try to hurt your sister. You’re the one who needs to stay away from her.”
“Who do you think you are?” she demanded. “You’re nothing but a pervert. CJ’s never going to love you. When I tell her, she’ll see the truth. You’re crazy.”
Abbott grabbed her by the throat. “You will not”—he shook her harder, squeezed her throat harder with every word—“tell her. If you do—”
Shelley ripped away from him, raced out the still-open door.
Abbott went after her.
A half minute turned to one and no one reappeared on the screen. The house remained empty. No sound. No nothing.
“Forward search again.” Braddock couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t be what he thought.
He didn’t know how many minutes elapsed. Suddenly Abbott appeared. Alone. He looked around the living room, then walked out of the house and closed the door.
Cooper turned to Braddock. “It was Abbott.”
Braddock grabbed his keys from his desk and ran for the exit. He’d failed again.
He’d ordered CJ to stay put . . . with the killer.
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
904 Williams Street, 3:22 AM
“I only did what was necessary,” Edward assured CJ.
This couldn’t be happening.
Couldn’t be real.
He couldn’t have . . .
Wait. Stay calm.
CJ had to remember that she was alone with him in his home. The cops outside couldn’t help her if they didn’t know she was in danger. She had to play this out. Stay calm. Try to survive.
She forced air into her lungs. “Sometimes that’s what we have to do.” The words came out far steadier than she’d expected. Images of her sister running through those woods kept flashing in front of her eyes. He couldn’t be saying that he’d killed Shelley.
That wasn’t possible.
“That’s so true.” He smiled. “Unpleasant, but true.”
Think! She needed an excuse to get out of this room.
She glanced at the melting ice cream on the pristine white carpet. “I’m sorry. I’ve made a mess. I should clean it up.”
He caught her by the arm when she tried to move past him. “Don’t trouble yourself. I’ll have it cleaned.”
“All right.” She pushed a smile into place, felt her lips tremble despite her best efforts. “Wine would be good. We can toast the future. And closure on the past.”
He stared into her eyes for a long moment. She prayed with all her heart that he wouldn’t see the fear . . . the lie.
“That’s a marvelous idea.”
He kept his fingers wrapped around her arm and led the way to the stairs and then down. Each step sent her heart into a faster, more panicked rhythm. When they reached the entry hall, all she had to do was get away from him and run out the front door.
The police were right outside.
As if he’d sensed her thought, his grip tightened when they reached the entry hall. He held on so tight it hurt. She kept her mouth shut, pretended not to notice.
There was a rear entrance in the kitchen.
There were knives in the kitchen.
She would find a way to escape. She could do it.
The silence boomed in her ears. Shoul
d she say something? Anything?
When they reached the kitchen, he loosened his grip but didn’t let go. He paused in front of the wine fridge. “How about that Saracco you love so much?”
“That would be wonderful.” She swallowed back the panic. “I love the bubbles.” What should she do? Panic swam in her veins.
He pulled a bottle from the fridge. His gaze settled on CJ once more. “I’m so glad we’ve gotten the ugliness out of the way. I don’t want anything standing between us.” He stared at the label on the bottle of wine. “Shelley made your life so unhappy. She made her own life equally miserable. She’s at rest now. It’s for the best.”
Emotion rammed against CJ’s sternum. She fought the rising sobs. Couldn’t let herself break down. But she couldn’t believe he would kill Shelley. It just didn’t seem possible. “Edward . . .” She moistened her trembling lips. “Surely it was an accident. You didn’t mean to—”
He slammed the bottle on the counter and glared at her. “Shelley was a sniveling whore. I could not let her ruin all that I’d worked for.”
CJ’s entire body shook. She tried to stop it. Couldn’t. “But she was my sister.” Blackness threatened. This was too much. It couldn’t be . . .
His fingers dug into her flesh where he held her arm. “Are you questioning my decision?” His eyes were wild with fury. “After all I’ve done?”
CJ forced her head to move side to side. “I just . . .” Think! Don’t push him too far!
“You just what?” he demanded.
“You killed her.” She searched the cold eyes—the face—she didn’t recognize. “Ricky? Juanita? Cost? I just don’t understand how you could have done this.”
“Mother warned me that you weren’t suitable.” The icy fury in his voice sent a new rush of fear crowding into her chest. “But I refused to listen. I knew.” His expression turned wistful. “I knew without a doubt that I could nurture you, mold you into perfection. She tried to stop me, but I defied her every challenge. Ignored her every warning. You were worth any sacrifice.”
“Edward.” She had to make him see this was insane. “You’re . . . you’re not well. This isn’t rational.”
He grabbed her with both hands. Shook her hard. “Are you questioning my judgment?”
Heart pounding in her ears, she mentally scrambled for the right answer. She had to get the situation back under control. Had to escape. Arguing with him would only push him further over the edge. “I—I didn’t mean to question—”
“Do you have any idea what I gave up for you?” he roared. “I struggled my entire life to live up to her standards. To prove I was worthy. Not like my father. But then I found you, and she . . .” Fury flashed in his eyes, flared his nostrils. “She tried to stop me. But I loved you more than her. I would not be stopped. Not by anyone.”
Dear God.
“I’m sorry.” CJ forced her lips to stretch into a wobbly smile. “Of course. You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. You did exactly what needed to be done. They . . . they were in the way of our future. How could I possibly be upset by all your hard work? You saved me.” Tentatively, she reached up as if to hug him. He resisted at first. “Forgive me, Edward. I was a fool not to recognize immediately the brilliance in what you’d done.”
For one endless moment he hesitated.
Please let him believe me.
Then he surrendered and she put her arms around his neck. She tiptoed, pressed her cheek to his. “Thank you,” she murmured. “For loving me enough to sacrifice so much.”
He embraced her tightly, his own body trembling now. “CJ, my sweet, sweet CJ.”
She drew back only far enough to meet his eyes. “Let’s have that wine now. We won’t talk of those unpleasant things ever again. The future is all that matters now.”
He smiled, relaxed his hold on her. “I knew Mother was wrong.”
CJ reached for the bottle of wine. “We need the corkscrew and glasses?”
“We do.” He smiled at her once more before reaching toward the drawer next to the wine fridge.
CJ’s fingers tightened on the neck of the bottle. She hesitated a fraction of a second. He’d been her and Shelley’s savior so many times.
Her hero.
More of a father than her biological father had ever dreamed of being.
And then she stopped thinking at all.
She drew back and swung the bottle with all her might. She slammed it into the side of his head.
He staggered back.
The bottle crashed on the marble floor.
And then she ran like hell.
She’d almost made it to the front door when she heard him crying her name.
Hurry!
She fumbled with the locks. Wrenched the door open and burst out onto the porch. She opened her mouth to scream—
Strong arms caught her.
Braddock.
“You okay?”
“Edward!” She turned to see if he was coming. “He killed Shelley! And the others.”
Braddock pulled her to the side of the open door. Cops rushed up the steps, poured through the entry.
She swayed. Braddock steadied her.
How could this be real?
“He can’t hurt you anymore.”
She turned to Braddock. Fell into his arms and closed her eyes against the reality.
It seemed there was nothing but lies and betrayals and pain everywhere she turned.
Except here . . . right here . . . in this man’s arms.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
815 Wheeler Avenue, HPD 5:00 PM
“Are you sure you have to do this?”
CJ looked into Braddock’s worried eyes. He didn’t want her to talk to Edward. But she had to. She had to ask him why.
All the books necessary to research electrical wiring, police procedures, surgical procedures—every detail essential to carrying out the murders—were in his personal library. Between the room he’d prepared for her, which was way, way over the line, deep into the obsession zone, and the items they’d discovered in his home, like the Taser and Shelley’s cell phone, as well as cameras he’d obviously at one time had in her attic, and dozens of videos of her all through the years, they had sufficient evidence to go forward with charges for all the murders.
Possibly even his mother’s. Considering all that he’d said to CJ, an order had been issued to exhume his mother’s body and take a closer look at cause of death.
But Edward refused to talk. He hadn’t uttered a single word since CJ had run out of his house.
She, Braddock, and Cooper had pieced together a theory. Edward had intended to make her his wife—the one he’d deemed his perfect mate. Shelley had interfered once too often for his liking and he’d gotten her out of the way.
The pain of it lunged deep into her heart like a knife.
He’d been so obsessed with the idea that CJ couldn’t fail, had to accomplish all these goals. He must have been afraid Shelley would keep getting in the way. It seemed from the videotape that she had figured out he was basically insane and she’d confronted him. She’d obviously found his video equipment in the attic when she’d gone up there to set up her own.
And all this time CJ had thought she was the one doing the protecting. She’d had no idea what her sister had done in an effort to help her.
The Taser found in Edward’s home was the kind used on Ricky, Lusk, Cost, and Tyrone.
CJ could only assume that Edward had killed Ricky because of something he knew. Maybe Shelley had told him what Edward was up to. Or perhaps he’d killed Ricky in hopes of putting an end to the investigation into Shelley’s murder. Lusk and Cost because of what they had done to Shelley and how their actions hurt CJ. Or maybe because he feared her relationship with them would prevent her from going back to Baltimore. CJ couldn’t be sure. She’d gone over and over everything she’d said to Edward about the victims. It seemed every one she’d complained about had ended up dead.
He�
�d killed Tyrone for obvious reasons. Tyrone had probably tried to blackmail him just as he had Cost.
Five murders. Five people had lost their lives. CJ just couldn’t come to terms with all this.
“Whatever he says to you won’t change anything,” Braddock offered in a last-ditch effort to change her mind about talking to Edward again.
She pushed all the questions aside. “I know. But I have to have closure. I need to speak to him alone.”
“All right. If that’s what you really want.”
A psychiatrist was scheduled to start an evaluation tomorrow morning. Edward likely wouldn’t talk to him either.
“Don’t worry,” CJ assured Braddock. “He can’t hurt me any more than he already has.”
Braddock walked her to the holding area. “He’s in a private cell. Don’t get too close to the bars, okay?”
She nodded.
He gestured to the guard who opened the door. “I’ll be right here,” Braddock reminded her.
She nodded, then walked through the door that separated the common area from the individual holding cells.
“Last cell on your right, ma’am,” the guard told her.
Her shoes creaked on the slick tile floor. She reached the last cell and turned to face the man who had betrayed her and her sister.
He sat on the bench staring at the wall.
“Edward.”
He turned to her. Stared. Didn’t speak.
“I need to know the truth.”
He blinked.
“Did you kill Shelley because she discovered your video equipment? I just need to know what happened to . . . to trigger all this.” CJ’s heart wrenched with the misery that accompanied the words.
Edward said nothing.
She shook her head. Braddock was right. This wasn’t going to help. He wasn’t going to give her the answers she sought. And if he did, what difference would it make? Shelley was dead. They were all dead. Anything Edward said at this point might be some twisted, surreal version of the truth.
She took a breath, squared her shoulders. “I’m going back to Baltimore and finish my residency.”
