Burning Resolution

by T. M. Cromer

  The police decided to step up the patrol on the house, because they surmised Zack might now be Christie’s next target. They’d also placed a call to the FBI, who’d sent over an agent from the local bureau.

  As they sat around waiting for the agent to arrive, Zack created an inventory of all the places he and Christie had visited together on various dates. Then he created a list of places they’d visited when house hunting during her pregnancy. The third list was all of Christie’s likes or dislikes. They might play into her location in some small way.

  It occurred to him, he’d humored her to the point of contributing to this obsession. In an attempt to pave the road for an easy, stress free pregnancy, he’d given in to her every demand. No wonder she thought she owned him.

  “Fuck it. I need coffee,” he muttered, heading for the nearest exit. The walls were closing in and claustrophobia was taking hold.

  “I’ll go with you and help carry the drinks back,” Dane offered.

  “No!” he barked. Seeing the shocked faces of those around him, he held up a hand in apology. “Can I have a few minutes to myself? Please?”

  “Sure. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Thanks, man.”

  As Zack wandered the halls of the hospital, he idly wondered if Dane ever lost his cool. He was definitely the most mild-mannered Sharp sibling. He tried to think back to see if the youngest Sharp had ever gotten in trouble for starting a fight or letting go of his temper. Not a single episode came to mind. How was it possible when Mason was so hot-headed, and he, himself, was prone to erupt when pushed too far?

  His phone pinged, indicated another missive. From Christie, no doubt. Seeing it was another picture of a hurt Erica, Zack couldn’t bring himself to fully look at it. He wondered how long this would go on. He could scarcely bear seeing Erica’s and Jacob’s suffering while remaining unable to save them. If he could stand not being the first to know, he’d hand over his cell to one of his brothers to screen the messages.

  First he needed coffee and fresh air. The antiseptic smell had infiltrated his nostrils and given him a headache.

  A cute little blonde at the coffee kiosk tried to flirt with him as he placed his order. Two months ago he’d have taken her up on the blatant offer in her eyes. Today, she appeared very young and lacking in comparison to Erica. If that didn’t tell him he was so far gone, nothing would. He’d had the stray thought he should send Mason back and gauge his reaction to the hottie.

  “Anything else,” she asked suggestively.

  As she leaned over the counter, displaying her double D’s, Zack cast his gaze to the donuts under the glass dome instead. He doubted there were any lemon filled, but a jelly would be the next best thing. “I’ll take the jelly, unless you have lemon.”

  Her disappointment was palpable as she rang him up and offered his change.

  As he loitered outside on a bench, he sipped his coffee, ate his donut, and thought about his game plan. Somehow, he had to let Christie know he was ready to enter the playing field. Winner take all.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Christie Bauer sat in a corner watching Zack’s lover alternate between struggling to stay awake and working to break free. Spider and the fly. She smiled. Would Erica’s writer brain figure out the plot to this little story? The chick was smart and sometimes struck Christie as actually funny. When she forgot to hate Erica, she liked her. While she was out getting supplies, she’d purchased one of the other woman’s novels. Maybe she would have her sign it before she killed her. Wouldn’t that be a fun trophy to have?

  Eighteen hours had passed since she’d picked her up from the hotel parking lot. In that time she’d been able to put her plan into motion. Snatching Jacob from under Zack’s nose was practically orgasmic. The euphoria she experienced was the only thing keeping her from ending the little brat’s life at her father’s place.

  She felt a pang of remorse for striking down her father. Seeing him bleeding, so motionless and vulnerable for once in his life, had given her pause. He’d probably died. She’d been unable to find out from the hospital staff. The privacy laws made it so they would only give information to family. Of course, she couldn’t admit to that.

  The thought of her father dying made her moody. Her parents were the only two people who’d cared about her. Well, at least until her father had her committed to the hospital six years ago. It required that long to convince her mother to get her released.

  A sound from the neighboring bedroom had her sitting upright. Crying. Ugh, the stupid boy! It was like nothing had changed in the years since they’d been separated. When he was two and she tied him up for his own safety, all he would do is wail and wail. The constant crying drove her into a rage. Why wouldn’t he stop? He was dry and fed. “Why wouldn’t he stop?”

  She hadn’t been aware of screaming the words until she saw Erica’s head whip around in her direction. Christie narrowed her eyes in anger. The stupid bitch acted as if Jacob was her son—always feeling the need to protect him.

  “So, Christie? How about that pizza? Surely you have to be hungry by now?” Erica asked in her attempt at distraction.

  As if Christie was an idiot! As if she didn’t see through the whore’s game!

  “Shut up or I’ll cut your damn tongue out! You and the little brat are making me nuts.”

  Erica’s snort of disbelief nearly sent her over the edge. To soothe herself, Christie envisioned Erica screaming and writhing in pain as flames licked up her skin. Not long now. The next step was to get Zack to let down his guard and be willing to lose the law enforcement tail. Once that happened, the final step for her revenge would be complete.

  She would watch him die inside as first his lover and then his child burned. She might keep him around for a few days to wallow in his misery before ending his life, too.

  Sure, convincing Erica she believed Zack loved her would mean the other woman would try to use it as a manipulation tool. Christie couldn’t wait for the actual moment when Erica recognized the ploy for what it was. And she would, just too late.

  Time to text Zack again. Taking great care to position the light to enhance the bruises and blood on Erica’s face, Christie snapped black and white photos. In some instances, she made the other woman scream by hitting her on the spot of the ribs she’d kicked earlier.

  As Erica sat struggling to breathe, she went through the photos and played with light and shadows, making the pictures as macabre as she could. They made her smile as she flipped through them. Maybe the next round would be a photo shoot with Jacob. A picture of Jacob suffering should really scramble Zack’s brains and make him throw all caution to the winds.

  She’d just sent the file, when his return text came through.

  “Enough! Tell me what you want.”

  Well, good for him. He must have prepared it ahead of time. Christie hadn’t even had a chance to shut the phone down.

  “Lose the tail. We’ll talk. I’ll call you in 1 hr. Don’t cross me.”

  She hit send and shut down the phone, careful to remove the battery.

  Zack couldn’t believe she responded. In an hour he would be one step closer to saving Jacob and Erica. His mind asked the pesky question, “What if you can only save one?” There was no contest. He had to save his son. But he would die inside.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Shonda noted.

  The shrewd look in her eye had him feeling guilty. She’d never forgive him for being responsible for Erica’s death. And by extension, ruining her relationship with Mason. That is if the dumbass brother of his didn’t do it all on his own. He had little doubt she wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of him if something happened to her best friend. It didn’t bode well for future family functions.

  Christ, he was being pessimistic. He blamed it on the lack of sleep. He turned into a cranky fuck if he didn’t get at least seven hours per night.

  She dropped her voice to scarcely above a whisper and asked, “What are you planning?”


  He shot a quick glance around the room before returning his gaze to hers. “Nothing.”

  Her forest green eyes narrowed in disbelief. Yeah, well, he wasn’t the best of actors.

  “You are, and I want in on it,” she insisted in a harsh whisper, darting a quick look in Mason’s direction before focusing on him again.

  A quick check showed Mason frowning at them. Zack shot him a grin. His brother rolled his eyes and turned away. Let him think the conversation was about him.

  “Nicely done.”

  He turned back to Shonda and smiled wider when he saw the appreciative twinkle in her eye. “Thanks. Years of practice.”

  “Now spill.”

  “You aren’t going to let this go are you?”

  “No.”

  Zack studied her for a moment. She really was beautiful. More so than Erica by society’s standards. He was pretty sure it was the exotic features. One would assume the blonde hair and green eyes would look like the all-American girl next door, but her olive complexion and high cheekbones made him think Asian ancestry somewhere along the line. Although, his supposition could be debated with her impossibly long legs and height. She had to be at least five-ten without heels. Perfect for his pig-headed brother.

  Another glance showed Mason was back to staring them down from his side of the room.

  “What’s he so angry about?”

  “He probably thinks I’m going to seduce you to the dark side like I did to Dane,” she joked.

  That got his full attention. He forgot to whisper. “You and Dane? What did I miss?”

  “While you were outside, your mother sent Mason for coffee. When he didn’t promptly return, she sent me to find him,” she said. A casual shrug of her shoulder told him she was upset by what she found. So Zack had been wrong about him not hitting on the blonde barista. “Your mother had the bright idea to convince Dane to steal a kiss. Mason broke his nose.”

  Zack laughed for the first time in hours.

  “It’s not funny!” she exclaimed.

  He laughed harder as Mason surged to his feet, flipped them off, then stormed out the door.

  Shonda bit her lip to hold back her own laugh. “Okay, so maybe it’s a little funny.”

  “I wondered where they were. Thought maybe they were making a dinner run.”

  “No, your mom drove him home. She said she wanted to take a nap, but she’d return with food for everyone.”

  “So you’ve been stuck in here, subject to the silent treatment for the better part of the day with me and my idiot brother. Poor girl,” he teased.

  “Okay, enough stalling. Now we’re alone, tell me what’s going on? And don’t you dare say nothing. I want to help.”

  He popped up to pace. “I can’t involve you in this, Shonda. Christie is clinically insane. It’s impossible to try to figure out what she’s got going on in that crazy head of hers.”

  “You aren’t. I’m involving myself. Erica’s the only family I have left. We’re sisters of a sort,” she insisted.

  While he wouldn’t drag her in to the active part his plan, maybe he could run ideas by her. Get another person’s take on what to do. Wordlessly, he unlocked his phone, pulled up the messages, and handed the phone to Shonda. A hand flew to her mouth and moisture flooded her eyes when she scrolled through the attached pictures.

  “Ohmygod! Have you shown these to the police?”

  “Not the recent ones. She wants me to meet her. Alone. You can see where she intends to call me.”

  “Zack? You know I’m an ex-realtor right?”

  The frown on her face, in addition to the question, had a flicker of hope starting.

  “Tell me you recognize those rooms.”

  “I believe I do. I remember taking people on a tour of the place. It’s abandoned now. I think it’s in a subdivision of Stapleton, the next town over. The city condemned it a few years back.”

  Her answer had him jerking her up, face to face.

  “Where is it?” he practically yelled.

  “Get your fucking hands off her!” Mason’s low growl came from the doorway. The hairs on the back of Zack’s neck stood at attention.

  “Jesus, Mason. I’m not hurting her.”

  “But you are,” his brother returned, menace still present in his tone.

  Zack gazed into Shonda’s face and noticed the whiteness around her compressed lips. Slowly, finger by finger, he released her. “I’m sorry. I…” He reached over to jerk down the neckline of her shirt to expose her shoulder. “What the fuck? Who did this?”

  She winced and avoided looking in Mason’s direction.

  Zack nearly lost it. Livid, he swung toward his brother. “You did this?”

  “No, give me some fucking credit. She was mugged last week. Earlier today, I forgot and grabbed her arm.”

  “I’m sorry, Shonda. I didn’t know. Shouldn’t have grabbed you like that,” he said, contrite.

  “Yeah, so how about you step away from her so she can fix her shirt, Mr. Grabby,” Mason groused.

  “Why should it matter to you?” Shonda snapped out the question.

  She made to shove past Mason to run out the door. Zack was careful to only grab her hand this time. “Shonda, where’s the location of that house?” he asked her desperately.

  “I’ll need to check my old files for the exact address. Can you follow me back to my apartment?”

  “Hell no!” Mason bellowed, stepping between the two and cutting off Zack’s reply. “No one is going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

  “Dammit, I don’t have the fucking time for your jealousy, Mason. Get a clue already,” Zack shouted and shoved his brother’s chest. The force of the blow drove him into the wall. Zack knew he’d feel bad about it later, but for right now, he had to find the abandoned house.

  “Zack, I wasn’t being jealous. I’m not a complete idiot. I recognize you two are planning something. Did you find where Christie’s holding Jacob and Erica?”

  “We think so.”

  “Let’s go then. I’ll drive.”

  “Someone has to stay for Charlie,” Zack said. “We can’t leave him alone.”

  “The doctor said he wasn’t waking anytime soon. Mom will be back in a little bit,” Mason informed him. A large hand on the back of his neck guided him toward the exit. “Let’s go.”

  Mason went white when he saw the condition Erica was in. While he always presented as the toughest of the three men, he’d always been the softest when it came to abused women or children. He took it hard when he couldn’t help them. For that reason, it surprised Zack when he found out he’d volunteered at the local battered women’s shelter.

  “Mason, we can do this,” Zack said, concerned for his brother’s state.

  “No, it’s okay. I’m okay,” he stated, grim but determined.

  They all selected a set of files to browse through and compare to the background of the pictures. As they’d finished searching the last of Shonda’s files, the phone rang. Unknown number.

  Giving a gesture of “stay silent” to the other occupants of the room, he answered.

  “Hello, lover,” Christie purred.

  Zack struggled to keep the snarl out of his voice. “Christie.”

  “Are you ready to play a game?”

  “I thought we were already playing one. Haven’t you drawn us into this farce against our will for the past six weeks?” he retorted.

  Mason mouthed, “Don’t piss her off.”

  Her laughter came across the line. “Yeah, it’s been pretty fun.”

  “I want to speak to Jacob.”

  “Not your little whore? You surprise me, Zack. I mean, I know you sent the kid to live with my parents when your slut moved in,” she said nastily. “I expected she meant the most to you.”

  He heard a muffled cry of pain in the background. Erica. It had to be. Bile rose in his throat. He fought for control. “Please. Just to see if he’s all right.”

  “Sur
e thing, lover.”

  The sound of her footsteps on hardwood could be heard as she went to a different room. It gave him a clue they were being held in separate quarters.

  “Jacob, talk to your father,” she ordered.

  “Dad? Dad?”

  Tears streamed down his face. He was powerless to stop them. His son sounded terrified.

  “Hey, lil man. You doing all right?”

  “Yeah, but I think Erica’s hurt. She—”

  “Enough. You’ve heard him. He’s fine. I’ll call you in an hour and tell you where to go.”

  “Christie! Christie!” he shouted.

  Dead air. She’d already disconnected. He curbed the urge to chuck the phone against the wall. It was his only form of communication. Instead, he tossed it on the table and stalked off. If he got his hands on her, he’d kill her. He knew it in that moment. He wanted her dead. For real this time.

  “Zack.”

  “I need a minute, Mason.”

  “Shonda thinks she found the house.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “When I couldn’t find it in the files, I checked to see if I could find the news article. Look here! 116 Eastside Lane, in the center of Wisteria Estates over in Stapleton. I was right. That’s about thirty minutes from here,” Shonda said and adjusted her laptop screen so the men hanging over her could see the estate.

  “You’re shitting me! The same address? What are the chances of that?” Mason asked.

  “Pretty good. You’d be surprised how many duplicates there are and in a fairly close vicinity, too. It made showing houses a nightmare some days.”

  “I’m not surprised. To Christie it would be the ultimate joke. Any way we can get a blueprint or floor plan?” Zack asked her.

  “This time of day, all the courthouse offices for permits and planning are closing. But let me call a friend.”

  Twenty minutes and an email later, they had memorized the online layout of the house.