Deed To Death

by D. B. Henson

  “This is Mark Ross. Is Toni in?”

  “No, she’s not,” Cheryl said. “Can I take a message?”

  “She’s been trying to reach me. She said it was important. Do you know where I can find her?”

  There was silence for a moment and then, “I think maybe you should talk to Janet.”

  He paced in front of the vending machines and waited for the assistant to come on the line.

  “Mr. Ross?”

  “Yes, I need to speak with Toni. It’s urgent.”

  “I wish I could help you, but I don’t know where she is.”

  “What do you mean? Doesn’t she check in with you?”

  “Normally, yes. But I haven’t heard from her since yesterday afternoon. She didn’t show up for a closing she planned to be at this morning and she missed a scheduled lunch with a client. She hasn’t returned any of my calls. To be honest, I’m starting to get a little worried.”

  Mark hung up the phone.

  He didn’t want to admit it to Janet, but he had an uneasy feeling as well. He checked his watch. If he hurried, he’d have just enough time to drive out to Toni’s house and back before his next meeting.

  Running on pure adrenaline, Toni made it to I-65 in record time. All the while, checking her rearview mirror to make sure no one was following her. Instead of driving north, back to Brentwood, she headed south. Now that Brian knew she was alive and using Scott’s car, she felt it best not to return to Josh’s until after dark. Brian would probably be scouring all of Williamson County looking for her.

  She took off the glasses and the wig and ran her hands through her hair.

  The disguise was worthless now. How had Brian known who she was anyway? She remembered the photos she found in his hotel room. Had he studied her that closely? Even if he did know her eyes, how had he recognized her at a distance? Maybe it had been her voice. But that was impossible. She hadn’t screamed until after he grabbed her. It didn’t make sense.

  It was almost as if he knew she would be there.

  She glanced at the knife on the passenger seat. The blade glistened in the sun, the edge smeared with dried blood. She had cut Brian’s arm. She’d had no other choice. He should be grateful she hadn’t aimed for his chest. She might have killed him. Should have killed him. She should have stabbed him again and again until all the anger and pain she felt over losing Scott drained from her soul.

  Is that what she wanted? To kill Brian?

  Was that vengeance necessary in order for her to heal?

  When she realized how close she had come to death herself, she started to shake. Afraid of causing a wreck, she pulled off the side of the interstate. She sat with the car idling, trying to calm down.

  What she needed was music. Soothing, relaxing music. She reached in the back and got Scott’s CD case. She picked out a collection of ballads she had burned herself, nothing too sappy, just slow and calming. She stuck the CD in the stereo and eased back onto the road.

  Forcing herself to take long, deep breaths, she waited for the music to start. Nothing happened. She ejected the CD and pushed it back in again. Still, it refused to play. She figured it was dirty or had gotten cracked or scratched. She took the disk out and replaced it with the Eagles, Greatest Hits.

  She tried to concentrate on the lyrics pouring from the speakers, tried to lose herself in the rhythm. Three songs began and ended, but it was hopeless. Her mind kept forming images of Brian’s hand wrapped around her arm. The heat from his touch was still there, as if he had branded her with a hot iron.

  And then she saw his eyes. Those cold stone-gray eyes.

  She decided to take the next exit.

  Fearing that somehow Brian might know she had gone south, she bypassed the fast food chains near the off ramp and headed in the direction she felt the town would most likely be. She got behind a line of cars with local license plates. When they turned right at the next light, she followed. This was foreign territory. All she knew was that she was somewhere in Maury County.

  About a half mile down the road, she spotted a small diner. The sign outside proclaimed the lunch special to be country fried steak, mashed potatoes, and fried okra. Nothing like good ole southern cooking.

  The heavy smell of grease and strong coffee greeted her as she pushed open the door. Noticing the sign that read, “Please be seated”, she slid into a booth upholstered in red vinyl. There were just a handful of other patrons. Three elderly men sitting at the counter and a middle-aged couple at a booth nearby. She guessed it was due to the time. Too late for lunch and too early for dinner.

  A waitress, who seemed to be bordering on retirement age herself, brought Toni a menu and some silverware wrapped in a paper napkin. She confirmed the special was indeed country-fried steak then headed over to refill the elderly men’s coffee cups. A few minutes later, she returned.

  “What can I get you, honey?”

  “I’ll have a Coke.” She handed the waitress the menu.

  “Just a Coke?”

  “I’d prefer something stronger, but I’m driving.”

  “Uh, huh. Man troubles.”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “When you’ve been working here as long as I have, seeing people come and go, you learn to read the signs.” She put her hand on Toni’s shoulder, her eyes soft with empathy. “I know just what you need. We’ve got a fresh baked chocolate pie in the back. Why don’t you let me bring you a big slice with a couple scoops of ice cream – on the house?”

  The woman’s motherly warmth melted the tension surrounding Toni like morning sunshine melts the early spring frost. For the first time since Scott died, she felt a genuine smile touch her lips. “Okay, I’ll have some, but put it on my bill.”

  As the waitress headed toward the kitchen, Toni rested her head on her palms and tried to assimilate what she had learned. She couldn’t believe the irony. All this time, she had been searching for Nico, certain he would be her savior. The key to clearing Scott’s name and setting things right. When in reality, Nico was as close as you could get to Satan incarnate.

  When she first saw Nico get out of the Jaguar, she was surprised how harmless he looked. Like a typical Dad, his arm affectionately draped around his daughter’s shoulder. But when his eyes locked on the garage, the façade fell away. She found herself staring straight into hell. She could actually feel the evil radiating from every pore of his body.

  At the time, she had been too scared for it to register, but she knew that face. The one that was so adept at hiding its true nature. She had seen it before. The day she visited Gloria’s apartment.

  Nico was the man in Gloria’s photographs.

  After pounding on Toni’s door for several minutes, Mark finally convinced himself she wasn’t home. At first, he hadn’t been sure. Visions of her in total meltdown, refusing to speak to anyone, accosted his mind. But clearing his thoughts of those just led to visions far worse.

  Trying to shake off the helpless feeling plaguing him, he reached for his cell phone. Jill answered on the second ring.

  Mark didn’t bother with the usual niceties. “Where’s Toni?” he asked.

  “Toni? How should I know?”

  “You haven’t talked to her today?”

  “No, why?”

  “Dana Dawson was murdered. At Toni’s listing.”

  “I know, I saw it on the news. It’s horrible. Some idiots robbed her and then shot her so she couldn’t identify them. I phoned Toni as soon as I heard, but she never called me back.”

  “You and the rest of the world.”

  “What?”

  “Look, if you hear from her, have her call me. Immediately.”

  “Yeah, of course.”

  After hanging up, Mark phoned his office and told his secretary to cancel the rest of his meetings for the day and his first two the following morning. He didn’t know how long it would take him to find Toni. It wasn’t like her to disappear without a word to anyone.

  Something bad had happ
ened. He was sure of it.

  As he drove back toward town, he ran through a list of Toni’s friends in his mind. He had the phone numbers for some of them, but not all. He decided to go to her office. She probably kept the information on her computer. As he neared the bridge, he slowed to a crawl, allowing a large black dog to amble across the road. Then he stopped.

  Not for the dog, but because of what he saw.

  He pulled over and got out of his car.

  He prayed to God he was wrong.

  CHAPTER 26

  “This will sting for a second,” the pretty ER doctor said just before injecting an anesthetic into Brian’s forearm. “And I’m afraid you will have a scar.”

  “There goes my modeling career.”

  Ignoring his attempt at humor, the doctor tossed the hypodermic into the trash before disappearing behind the closed curtain. After several minutes, she returned accompanied by a short, rotund nurse whose nametag read Peggy Lund.

  Peggy had tweezed her black-penciled eyebrows into sharp upside-down vees that mirrored the bright red pout of her mouth. The combination of her makeup, generous cheeks, close-cropped hair, and wide forehead reminded Brian of an overdone kewpie doll.

  He swallowed a laugh and instead smiled at the nurse. She nodded and returned his grin. The doctor however, did not. Instead, she regarded him with cold eyes as she went about the task of stitching up the gash that stretched from his elbow nearly to his wrist.

  It was obvious she didn’t believe the story that he’d tripped and fallen against a saw blade. Why should she? He wouldn’t. He was so pissed at having lost Toni again that he hadn’t thought to make up anything on the way to the hospital. So he just said the first thing that popped into his mind.

  Doctors were required to report gunshot wounds to the police. He didn’t think it was mandatory to report stabbings, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t. He hoped the doctor would keep her suspicions to herself. Talking to law enforcement was a hassle he didn’t need.

  Brian’s cell phone rang.

  “Don’t even think about it,” the doctor said.

  The look the she shot him said if he dared move even a millimeter, he might end up with the suture needle jabbed in his nuts.

  Despite the warning, he was tempted to answer. Before Toni sped off, he managed to memorize the license plate number on Scott’s SUV. Although Toni had probably stolen the plate at random, he thought it was worth checking out. There was the slight chance he’d get lucky and it would belong to someone she knew.

  At the very least, the address of the person she swiped it from might point him to the general area where she was hiding. As soon as he had arrived at the hospital, he’d left a voice message for a friend who could run the license number. Instinct told him that friend was now on the other end of his cell.

  Mark sat on an outcropping of rock at the edge of the riverbank, his head in his hands. He stared down at his muddy wing-tips and cursed himself.

  Why had he left Toni alone?

  He should have insisted she stay with him for a few weeks. He could have kept a better eye on her. Made sure she didn’t freak out over Gloria. Helped her deal with her feelings. But in all reality, he knew, she never would have agreed to it.

  He glanced up toward the bridge. The lights from the patrol cars flashed an eerie ultramarine through the dusk. They had the road blocked. Clint had called him on his cell phone. He and Jill had tried to get down to the river, but the police weren’t letting anyone through.

  Mark could see a group of Blanton Hills’ finest still examining the ripped guardrail with flashlights. Since the moment he spotted the twisted metal marred with red paint, he had begun phoning Toni at fifteen minute intervals, praying she would pick up. Praying he was wrong and she was safe.

  The wrenching in his chest grew worse with every unanswered call.

  He turned his attention back toward the river just in time to see one of the divers motion to an officer on the shore.

  They had found something.

  Toni shook herself awake, the blaring sun from her dream extinguished by the darkness of the dingy motel room. But the shrill laughter did not douse as easily. She could still hear it. Could still see the faces of the demons taunting her.

  In the dream, she stood rigid on the top floor of the hotel, her hands bound behind her back. At her throat she could feel the cold steel of the hunting knife. He had wrestled it from her. Nico. And now she was too afraid to scream or even breathe. He loosened his arm from around her waist and smiled down at her. She watched as his teeth transformed into wolf-like fangs.

  He shoved her forward onto the balcony.

  Brian was there. And Gloria. Their backs were toward her, their gaze transfixed by a giant eagle on the ledge. Then the eagle turned and she could see his face, the sun shining behind him like a halo.

  It wasn’t a bird at all.

  What she thought were wings were the arms of a man, bound together as hers were.

  When he first saw her, he smiled. A smile that lifted her heart and made her feel as though she could fly. That they could fly off the balcony together and everything would be all right. A heartbeat later, his smile was gone, replaced by a look of fear.

  Scott!

  She tried to scream, but her voice was gone. She struggled to free herself, but Nico’s arms wound around her like an iron vine. Then she saw something in Brian’s hand. He raised it toward her and she realized it was a gun.

  “Shoot her!” Gloria yelled.

  “No, leave her alone,” Scott said. “She doesn’t know anything.”

  Brian lowered the gun and turned back toward the ledge. “If you’re wrong, and she knows, she’s dead.”

  Dead.

  The word echoed through her brain.

  But then she heard Scott’s voice. He whispered her name, soft and sweet. His face no longer masked by fear, but rather intense concentration. His eyes held hers for what seemed like hours, but she knew were only fleeting seconds.

  “I’ll always be with you,” Scott whispered. “Remember. Now and always.”

  But as soon as the words escaped his lips, Brian lunged toward him.

  With a single push, Scott was gone.

  She screamed inside her head. A sound only she could hear. Nico released his grip and she stumbled forward, dropping to her knees.

  And then the laughter began.

  Maddening, deafening laughter.

  They circled around her, Brian, Gloria, and Nico. Their faces twisted with glee.

  Toni sat up, her face and neck covered by a thin layer of sweat. She had no idea how long she’d slept. The clock on the bedside table flashed twelve – zero – zero. The power had been out.

  She crawled off the bed and pulled open the musty curtains. A steady rain shimmered in the pale glow of the motel parking lot’s solitary street lamp. She checked the time on her new cell phone. Ten twenty-three. She’d been out for a while. Was it safe to go back to Josh’s now? Maybe. But then what?

  She had pinned all her hopes of solving Scott’s murder on Nico’s cooperation. He had been her one chance. Now that Nico was the enemy instead of her ally, what did she have left? How could she get detective Lewis to believe her? At this point, what could she prove?

  Nico had tried to kill her.

  The red paint on his Audi would match the paint from her car. That should be enough to get the police to question Nico. Except for one thing. Brian knew she had been at Nico’s. There was no way in hell he’d risk letting anyone else see the Audi.

  By now, the car had probably already been chopped into a million pieces.

  A wave of nausea hit her. Brian and Nico had killed Scott. Were trying to kill her. And there was not a damn thing she could do.

  Or was there?

  What about Gloria? Toni sensed the woman was not nearly as strong as she pretended. Could she be convinced Nico was only using her? Could the blonde actually be the key to cracking this whole conspiracy?

  Toni knew
going to see Gloria again might be akin to shooting herself. Still, what other choices did she have? She could either live the rest of her life on the run, hoping Nico and Brian never caught her, or she could remain on the offensive. Keep charging until she found a way to bring them down.

  Toni went into the bathroom and rubbed a cold washcloth across her face. She stared at her reflection. Her bone structure, her ocean-blue eyes and thick auburn hair were all traits she shared with her mother. There was one characteristic, however, she had not inherited.

  Never once in all her life had Toni run away.

  Not from anything.

  CHAPTER 27

  Toni parked two buildings down from Gloria’s apartment, killed her headlights and waited.

  Being near to Vanderbilt, the complex housed its share of coeds. Toni watched a group of the nocturnally inclined creatures unload from a Toyota, arms laden with beer and snacks. They trudged follow-the-leader across the parking lot and then up the stairs to a corner apartment. Once they were inside, the lot appeared deserted except for Toni and a large calico cat sitting on the hood of the beat-up Ford Escort parked next to her.

  After leaving the motel, Toni had stopped at a Wal-Mart and purchased some dark gray sweats and a stocking cap. She twisted her hair into a knot on top of her head and pulled the cap down over her ears before getting out of the car. The calico jumped to the BMW’s hood and meowed, begging to be petted. Toni obliged and stroked the cat.

  “Shhh. You be quiet now.”

  With no one else in sight, Toni headed for building G. Gloria’s apartment was adjacent to the laundry building, the brightest lit area of the complex. Toni emerged from the shadows and knocked on Gloria’s door.

  The calico wound itself around Toni’s ankles. She scratched the cat’s head and knocked again.