Dark Redemption

by Angie Sandro

  I bounce back onto the edge of the bed. Right now, the dreams I have are my only lead. Break the connection and I won’t be tied to him anymore. Won’t be able to see where he is or what he’s doing. Does she know this? Is her I’ll-help-you act genuine or a deliberate attempt to keep me from getting more information on this guy? And if it’s really Judd, then does it matter anymore if I’m tied to him? It’s just that no matter how much evidence points to Judd being the culprit, I can’t picture him as a serial killer. A hotheaded asshole yes, but…

  Maybe Sophia’s reading my thoughts again because her gaze drops to the bedspread. “Magnolia will arrive this afternoon. Don’t trust her…” She trails off, her gaze lifting over my shoulder to focus on the door. “Ah, you’re back,” she says.

  Landry and George burst into the room. Tension radiates off both of them, visible in the stiffness in their shoulders and around their eyes. “Did you find Judd?” I ask.

  “No, but we located his car in the parking lot.” George sits next to us on the edge of the bed. His hair stands on end, a sure sign of his agitation. He takes my hand.

  My eyes flick toward Landry to gauge his response but he doesn’t react, stressing me out even more. “Okay, so what’s the problem?”

  “I found the body of the missing boy, Marcus Wright, in the trunk,” George says.

  The air rushes out of me in a gasping hiss.

  George gives my hand a squeeze. “We have deputies on the premises conducting a search, but I’m here to protect Sophia until I can get her safely onto the ambulance. Once the hotel is cleared, we’ll process the room for evidence.”

  Landry asks, “How much longer before the ambulance arrives?”

  “The paramedics won’t come in until they’re sure the scene is secure.” George gets up and walks toward the door as he radios dispatch with the question.

  Dixie’s response is clipped. “Medical’s at the staging area. BPSO twelve reported the scene has been secured. Medical’s cleared to enter.”

  “Good,” Sophia says. “I can use a vacation. Being in the hospital is almost as relaxing as going to the day spa. Only the food isn’t quite as tasty.”

  She laughs, but white lines are etched beside her lips. She’s obviously in pain. The fact that she’s willingly going to the hospital shows how much. “Mala, take my bag and keep it safe until you can go through it in private. Tell Ferdinand and Magnolia that I’ll be waiting for them at the hospital.” She gives my hand a squeeze. “It’s a magical day. Family will be reunited.”

  She means Dena.

  She nods. Ugh, she read my mind again.

  I try to lift the suitcase, forgetting how heavy it is, and grunt. George reaches for the handle, but Landry gets to it first. He hefts the bag over his shoulder without breaking a sweat. I trace the contours of his biceps and pecs. The fitted T-shirt leaves nothing to the imagination. I can clearly see each defined muscle. And I thank God that I washed all of his cotton shirts in hot water.

  My tongue darts out to moisten my lips, and I twitch when he pokes my side with the tip of a finger. “Let’s go,” he says gruffly.

  I nod, stomach churning with guilt. Even imagining Landry naked doesn’t remove the picture of Marcus Wright from my mind. How can I even consider renting one of these rooms for an hour when the boy’s body lies cold in the trunk of a car?

  “Wait,” George calls. “What about our investigation? I’m sure Bessie will let you watch while they process the vehicle. Maybe Marcus stuck around and you can do a little ghost talking.”

  A sliver of excitement stirs. I’ve been at the scene of two crimes, and I didn’t get to participate in either. And I want to see firsthand exactly what goes on in processing a scene for evidence. Books and drama-land can only teach so much. I want to experience the real thing, even if contacting the boy’s spirit might give me nightmares.

  “We don’t have time,” Landry says, popping the fantasy bubble in my head.

  George acts like we’re alone in the room. His voice lowers, cajoling and oh so tempting. The devilish imp riding on my shoulder urges me to listen. “Are you sure, Mala? I bet Ernesto has an update on the—”

  I wave my hand, breaking in quickly. “Tell me later.”

  He swallows back his surprise, but he gets the hint and shuts up. I don’t want him talking about the knife in front of Sophia.

  “Pepper lost track of the boys,” Landry says. “I promised to help her round them up, but we’re running short on time. We’ve got about five hours before Mala’s great-aunt gets to town.”

  Magnolia’s coming. Is it sad that I’d rather chase a serial killer than meet with my aunt? I nod, shivering. “I’m sorry.”

  George tilts his head toward his shoulder mike, listening, then tells Sophia, “The ambulance is here.” He turns back to me. “Wait for me to hand Sophia off to the paramedics, and I’ll go with you to talk to Pepper. I have some questions for her about Judd.”

  Landry puts his arm around my shoulder and gives a slight nudge. I can’t stop thinking about what Sophia said. She always seemed like a good little minion, acting on Magnolia’s orders without hesitation. Yet today, it feels like she switched sides. Her warning rings loudly: Don’t trust Magnolia.

  Well, duh. I’ve been saying that for months. I also don’t trust Sophia.

  “What are you thinking?” Landry asks once we’re in the hallway.

  “That I don’t trust anyone.”

  His arm drops. When I realize how that might be construed, I throw his arm back over my shoulder and snake mine around his back. “Obviously you aren’t included.”

  “No,” he says, drawing the word out. “I think you said it right the first time. Maybe you don’t realize it, but you really don’t trust anyone. Even me.”

  “That’s not true.” I squeeze his hip as we go down the front staircase, lending my support since his balance is off from carrying Sophia’s suitcase. I do it naturally. He doesn’t even notice. I usually don’t either, but today feels different. Everything seems crystal clear. “If I’ve done something to give you a reason to think this, I’m sorry. You know I love you, right? Love comes from trust. I wouldn’t be with you otherwise.”

  “Then why did you stab me in the back this morning?” He twists away. The move rips his T-shirt from my fist when I try to hold on to him. The bag drops onto the step. “You let the kids go without bothering to discuss the situation. Now look at what’s happened.”

  “That’s not fair! I didn’t think Pepper would play crazy and take Judd back after what he did to Carl. And I certainly didn’t predict that he’s a damn serial killer.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Don’t you get it? We’re supposed to be a team. The decision wasn’t yours to make alone. I understand as well as you do that the kids are in danger with us. If you’d given me a chance, I would’ve had your back like always. But you didn’t have mine.”

  My mouth hangs open wider with each venomous word. He’s been holding in this anger too long. It’s been festering inside him—a gangrenous growth filling him with poison. And it’s my fault for not communicating with him. I need to fix it.

  I close the distance between us until only a few inches separate our bodies. My hands slide up the thin cotton T-shirt, which doesn’t pad his chest at all. I can feel each muscle tense beneath my sensitive fingertips. His heart thumps beneath my palm. I meet his steady gaze without flinching. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

  He studies my face with a dark gray eye. The black patch stands out against his pale skin. A constant reminder of what could happen if I don’t trust him to protect me with his life. He ran into my burning house to rescue me. And I charged into one with a guy holding him at gunpoint. Neither of us are the brightest stars in the sky when the other’s in danger, but we’re loyal.

  I rise up on tiptoes. He holds back for a second, then sighs. Our lips brush, sending that spark through my body that only his kisses create. My arms steal around his back, and I clasp my han
ds together so he can’t pull away even if he tries.

  Clumps on the stairs signal that someone’s coming down behind us, but I simply press Landry back against the banister.

  George clears his throat. “Can’t you do that somewhere more private? People are staring.”

  Landry’s tongue in my mouth prevents me from answering. But from the corner of my eye, I see his hand waving George around us. We stand on the bottom step for a while. When we finally break apart, I rest my head against his shoulder while I try to catch my breath. By the time I look up, George is holding open the front doors for the paramedics carrying a stretcher.

  “I know this sounds weird coming from me, but I hope Sophia’s okay.” I mean it too. Surprise, surprise.

  Landry’s arm wraps around my neck. He hugs me close, dropping a kiss on the top of my head. “I’m surprised you’ve held a grudge as long as you have.”

  I squeeze him tight. “If Sophia had only hurt me, I probably would’ve forgiven her by now. But she hurt you. She’s lucky I don’t know how to fix a curse or she’d look like a plucked chicken by now.”

  Landry laughs. Together we step aside so George and the paramedics can get past us. We watch until they vanish upstairs, then turn in the direction of Pepper’s room. Deputy “Tank” Toussaint blocks the entranceway to the restaurant. Another deputy guards the hallway leading to the back door. The perimeter is indeed secure, and judging by the smiles on their faces, we provided quite the performance for our audience.

  A blush heats my cheeks, and I avert my face. “Sophia told me something interesting while you were outside.”

  “I got worried when George told me he brought you here because she wanted to speak to you in private.”

  “He told you about her being the professor who found the body parts?” He nods. “Well, she also warned me that Magnolia might be in cahoots with the murderer—Judd. But if that’s the case, why did he attack her? Plus, being so forthcoming is totally out of character for Sophia. Either her reunion with Gaston has affected her loyalties or she’s working some other twisted angle with my aunt.”

  Landry hisses. “First of all, cahoots? Second, what the—”

  “Sorry, but that’s what seems to be going on.”

  He glances around the room and sighs. “Let’s deal with Pepper first, then break it down for me. I need to know what we’re getting into before Magnolia arrives.”

  “Yeah, I guess a conversation about soul-eating butterflies and murderous loas, unlike deep-throat kissing, should wait until we’re in private.”

  I raise a hand and wave at Axle, who stuffs half a cheeseburger into his mouth, ducks down to scoot between Tank’s legs, and runs out of the restaurant.

  “Don’t run with food in your mouth,” Landry barks, and I hide my grin.

  Damn, he’ll be such a good father.

  Chapter 20

  Landry

  Line of Fire

  Axle slides across the floor until he comes to a halt right in front of us. His jaw works up and down, and his face scrunches as he swallows, then coughs. Mala pats him on the back until the rough hacks ease. “Don’t worry,” she says, eyes twinkling when she looks at me. “Someone who claims to be first-aid and CPR certified once told me, if you’re coughing, you’re breathing.”

  “Probably someone with a sick sense of humor,” George says, coming from behind. He slaps my back hard enough to make me flinch from the sting. Ass hat. “Sophia’s on her way to the hospital. Let’s go interrogate Pepper.”

  “Axle,” Mala says, pointing toward the massive deputy standing across the hall. “We need to talk about adult stuff with your mama. Deputy Tank over there will keep an eye on you while you go grab some dessert.”

  Toussaint gives a short nod, but his eyes don’t stop scanning the area despite the all-clear given earlier. Until Judd’s in custody, everyone will remain on alert.

  The little con-artist holds out his hand and wiggles his fingers.

  Grumbling, I reach into my pocket to pull out my ever-thinning wallet. “Why do I feel like I’m getting scammed?”

  “Because you are,” Mala says, scowling. “The kids have you wrapped around their little fingers. You’re spoiling them rotten.”

  “I know they’re rotten, so don’t blame me.”

  She snorts, not even deigning to get into a debate when she knows the truth…that yeah, I plan on spoiling them for as long as I can. Maybe I won’t win Parent of the Year, but I’ll beat Mala at the job as best surrogate parent ever. They’ll miss me when I’m gone.

  A few doors down, George stands in front of Pepper’s room. He has his head cocked to the side, probably listening to our conversation and getting ready throw out another insult. To head him off, I say, “I told her to be ready—”

  George stiffens. His hand snaps up. “Something’s wrong.”

  I drop the suitcase and freeze. It’s too quiet.

  George unsnaps his gun holster. He speaks quietly over the radio, alerting the other deputies to his suspicions. Tank and the deputy by the rear exit start in his direction while I head in the opposite, dragging Axle and Mala by the arms back down the hall. My vision narrows and the hallway stretches, growing longer like some crazy optical illusion.

  “Pepper, it’s the sheriff’s office. Are you in there?” George yells.

  No answer.

  “Pepper, I’m coming in.” A bang echoes down the corridor from his foot connecting with the wooden door. More yells drowning out individual voices until it’s a dissonant symphony of curses and the sonic boom of Tank’s rumbling bass voice.

  Axle trips. His thin arm slides from my sweat-slick hand. He lands on his knees and stares at me with wide, fear-filled eyes. His lips move, but I can’t hear him over the yelling. My body reacts before my mind catches up to the danger. So does Mala. She scoops Axle up, and I wrap my arms around them both, sandwiching Axle between our bodies. I shove them into a shallow doorway. Mala winces when her back slams into a doorknob, but she presses Axle’s face into her chest, while I protect his back.

  I fumble behind her for the doorknob. It’s locked.

  We crouch down in the small space between the closed door and the hallway. I drape my body over them to shield them from the image of the man holding a gun to Pepper’s head as much as to protect them from any stray bullets, leaving myself totally exposed. Only Deputy Toussaint forms a living wall between the gun and us.

  Mala’s breathing hitches. I can barely hear the words she speaks through the mop of hair on Axle’s head. “It’s okay. We’re okay,” she repeats, doing her best to soothe the sobbing boy in our arms.

  I wish I could believe her.

  “Drop your weapon,” George yells, and I flinch. His voice comes from my blind spot. To see him, I’d have to turn sideways, which would leave Mala and Axle exposed. But I can see Judd. He’s got his left arm wrapped around Pepper’s neck. The woman’s face is purple from lack of oxygen. Her eyelids flutter, and she gasps, sucking in what little air she can as he forces her into the hallway. He’s careful to keep his back against the wall, using her body as a shield.

  “Drop your guns or she’s dead,” Judd yells. His hand shakes, but more from adrenaline than fear, judging by his body language. A wild look fills his muddy eyes when he sees me. His mouth stretches, a perversion of the Joker’s mad grin, but scarier because he’s real.

  “I see you, girl…” He giggles. A sliver of ice goes down my spine at the mania in the sound. Grown-ass men shouldn’t fucking giggle. But even worse is the reason behind his sudden burst of glee. His intent has shifted to Mala for some reason.

  My back tenses, and I press closer against my family, trying to cover any exposed body parts with mine. He’ll have to shoot through me to get them. He’ll only get one chance because as soon as he moves the gun away from Pepper’s head the three deputies in the hallway will take him down.

  But so far he isn’t making any stupid decisions.

  He takes a slow step in our d
irection, dragging Pepper. “Stay where you are, girl. I’m coming. You have something I need.”

  Mala whimpers, her breaths coming faster and faster. “Landry?”

  I don’t know. My arms tighten around her. Doubt gnaws at my gut. What if he shoots? Would one or two, hell even a whole magazine of bullets, bring him down? He acts like he’s on bath salts or LSD, some weird brain-eating drug that turns the user into someone who doesn’t operate on normal, logical rules.

  Judd must not be cutting off Pepper’s air anymore. The woman inhales a huge gulp and lets it out in a piercing shriek. Axle echoes it, screaming into Mala’s chest. The deputies continue to yell orders, but they don’t risk Pepper by taking the shot. All of my focus remains on each slow step he takes in our direction. While trying to get away, the hall seemed a million miles long. Now it shrinks. The only thing keeping me steady is that, to get to us, Judd has to get past Tank, who positions himself as a guard in front of us.

  To show his growing rage with the resistance he faces, Judd’s finger flexes on the trigger. “I mean it. Back off and let me get what I came for. No need to mess up this lovely woman’s face in front of her kid.”

  “He’s going to kill her,” Mala says, her words coming loud and clear as if she speaks directly into my mind. My body is more aware of her now than I have ever been. Electricity arcs from her through my arms. I don’t know if Axle feels the building power, but it sets my gums to tingling.

  It grows. Painful, biting…an exhilarating wave that builds, cresting over. Mala grits her teeth, and my jaw aches from doing the same. Between us, Axle whimpers. I almost tell her to stop because we’re hurting him, but Judd steps forward again. His eyes remain pinned on us with laser-like focus, as if he’s drilling through my body to reach Mala.

  “Where is it?”

  An image fills my mind. Bright and clear. The knife.