Shadow of Vengeance

by Kristine Mason

  “Josh, I’m not about to allow your mother to see you like this,” Conway said, his tone forceful and warning. “You need to shut your mouth and get your rest.” He turned toward the doctor who had been working on Josh. “How long before he can be moved from this shithole?”

  “You’re a rapist!” Josh’s face twisted with agony as he tried to push off the bed. The nurse and doctor quickly pushed him down. “Because of you, nine people died,” he shouted. “I almost died. And now…you’re dead to me.”

  As if the boy had never spoken, Bob Conway shook his head. “I’m having him removed from here within the hour,” he said to the doctor. “Have him ready.”

  “Sheriff,” Josh called, his voice desperate, pleading. “Are you hearing this? This man is a rapist.”

  Jake looked to Rachel. “So much for waiting. Call Marty and tell him we’re ready for him,” he said, then went after Conway.

  “This is preposterous,” Conway ranted as Jake read him his rights. “What the hell are you arresting me for?”

  “Obstruction of justice, Mr. Conway.” Jake finished cuffing the man, and started to lead him away. “You knew this morning who had your son and didn’t say a thing.”

  “Bullshit. I didn’t know anything.”

  “He knew?” Josh cried. “What do you mean, he knew?”

  “Look,” Conway began. “I didn’t know, but when I heard Preston was dean, I suspected.”

  “And you didn’t say anything?” Josh’s face contorted with hatred. “Let me guess. You called your lawyers and put them on damage control. You wanted to make sure my kidnapping, my kidnapper, wouldn’t ruin your precious reputation.”

  “Just keep your mouth shut,” Conway ordered. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Josh laughed, but without humor. “No. I do.” He laid his head against the pillow. “You know what Preston told me?”

  “Shut up, Josh. I’m warning you.”

  “He said that you were the one who put Hell Week into motion twenty-five years ago.” Josh closed his eyes and tilted his mouth in a small, wry smile. “He said you’d know fear. That you’d comprehend at the most heinous level…because for every action, there is always a reaction.” He opened his eyes. “He said I had to die for your sins. And you were going to let it happen to save your sorry ass.”

  “I wasn’t going to let you die.” Conway jerked away from Jake’s grip. “I was trying to protect us.”

  “No. You were protecting you.” Josh closed his eyes. “Just go away. I want no part of you.”

  Jake forced Conway to move. “I’ll be free in a matter of hours,” Conway shouted over his shoulder. “We’ll talk this out. Everything will be fine. You and me, we’ll be fine. We’ll—”

  The glass doors closed behind Conway and Jake, cutting off anything else the man had to say. Owen looked across the room. Josh met his gaze. “At least Preston showed some remorse,” the boy said. “My father…I blame him for this.”

  Rachel went to Josh’s side and held his hand. “What your dad did was wrong. But he didn’t kill those other kids or kidnap you.”

  “No.” Josh pressed his head deeper into the pillow. “He just created the monster who did.”

  Owen’s chest tightened as Rachel smoothed the boy’s hair from his face and kissed his forehead. Josh had a long road ahead of him. What his father had done, what Preston and his daughter had attempted to do, would likely require years of therapy.

  Rachel stepped out of the way to allow the nurses and doctors to transfer Josh to a room. After they moved the boy out of the ER, she walked across the room and stood next to his bed. She looked exhausted, and he hated the scrapes and bruises marring her pretty face. He hated that she’d gone through what she had tonight, but would never doubt her emotional qualifications again. If anything, she’d proved to be one of the strongest people he’d ever known. She’d challenged herself, took risks and came out the victor. Hell, she’d challenged him and forced him to realize he could be a better man. That he needed to be if he were to prove to her they belonged together.

  When she glanced at him, he reached for her hand. She leaned forward and took it, then closed her eyes and rested her forehead on their joined hands. He rolled slightly, and feathered his fingers through her short hair. When her warm tears fell along his skin, his throat constricted. She hurt. Not just on the outside. He wanted to take that hurt and swallow it whole. He wanted to tell her he loved her, and that she didn’t have to heal alone.

  “Rachel…”

  She shook her head against their hands. “Not yet.”

  Back at Preston’s, she’d been willing to admit something, but he’d stopped her. There’d been too many people around, and as much as he’d wanted to confess everything he’d been holding back, he’d wanted them to be alone where they could be open and honest with each other. Now she was the one holding back.

  He rubbed the tension at the base of her neck. “Like I told you before, I’m not going anywhere. When you’re ready, I’ll be here for you.”

  Because…I love you.

  *

  Detective Nick Merretti entered my room. The somberness in his dark brown eyes filled my soul with fear and anxiety. “What happened?” I typed as quickly as my mouth would allow.

  Bunny rushed to my side and held my hand. “Did they find her?” she asked him.

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  “Xavier,” my synthesized voice said. “He okay?”

  Nick scratched the back of his head. “He’s alive, but…” He sat next to me. “Vivian, Xavier Preston has been kidnapping and murdering college students for the last twenty years.”

  My chest tightened. I’d once been in love with the man. Together we’d created a child. My world tilted. My husband had been a child molester who preyed on my daughter. Blackness settled on my heart and soul. My daughter and former lover had been coldblooded killers. The people who had touched my life the most, the people whom I’d loved the most, had all ended up being monsters.

  God, what is wrong with me?

  “Thanks to you,” Nick continued, “he’s been stopped, and his last victim saved.” He rubbed his temple. “Unfortunately, your daughter was killed. I’m sorry, Vivian.”

  Tears filled my eyes. Not for the young woman Holly had become, but for the adorable and sweet child she’d once been. Images of Holly filtered through my mind. Tiny fingers and toes. Chubby cheeks and ice cream kisses. I loved Holly more than life itself. A part of me would always love my little girl. If only I’d caught the signs. If only I’d been able to protect Holly from Art, take her away, sought help.

  Since waking from the coma, I’d thought long and hard about what Art had done to my daughter. I tried to remember if I’d seen something inappropriate and wondered if I’d absently tossed it off as teenage angst. But there was never a moment I could recall that would have given me a warning or a red flag that something wasn’t right in my home. Yet, I still blamed myself. Because I’d been blind to what went on under my own roof, my daughter was dead.

  “My fault,” I typed.

  “No!” Nick smacked his leg. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Your daughter killed an innocent man when she was in Bola. She helped Xavier Preston keep a nineteen-year-old boy prisoner in a basement for almost a week. She tried to murder you, and what she did to your husband…” He shook his head. “Vivian, I’ve been working homicide for nearly thirty years. Just because a kid is raised by a good parent doesn’t mean they’ll turn out to be a good person. Trust me, I’ve worked plenty of murder cases to know a mother’s love could never erase the hatred your daughter carried with her.”

  I worked the straws and typed, “I surrounded myself with killers and a child molester. I am to blame.”

  Bunny squeezed my hand. “Don’t you do this to yourself. I won’t allow it. I won’t allow you to feel sorry for yourself, or blame yourself for everything that’s happened.”

  Fury clawed its way into my belly. My fingers
and toes tingled with it. My head and heart pounded with it. “How dare you.” I puffed into the straw and released a frustrated grunt. “Holly dead. Art dead. My ex-boyfriend a serial killer. I have right to feel sorry for myself.”

  “You’ve been feeling sorry for yourself for the past year,” Bunny countered. “It’s time to get mad and take your life back.”

  “Go back to fancy hospital you came from,” my synthesized voice echoed through the room. “Don’t need you. Don’t have a life to take back. Sitting in chair no life. Everyone I love dead. I want to be dead.”

  “Well, that’s no fun,” my best friend, Lois, said as she entered the room. “I can’t kick your ass in chess if you’re dead.” Disappointment lined her weary face as she stood behind Nick and crossed her arms. “I’m living on borrowed time. You, on the other hand, are wasting time. I’ve heard what your therapists have said. With intense therapy, there’s no reason you can’t regain control of your body. The problem is you don’t have the will to do it. I listened at the door, and I get where you’re coming from, but what I don’t get is why you’re going to let this defeat you.”

  “If I walk and talk, what would I do? I have nothing. No family. No money. Nothing.”

  “You have me,” Lois said as she moved around Nick and took my other hand.

  Bunny squeezed my hand tight. “And me. That fancy hospital I was working at fired my ass, so there’s no going back.” I slid my gaze to her and caught her smile. “And Lois is right. You can walk out of here if you work hard enough. I’m not saying you’ll be running a marathon or doing backflips, but what you can do is share your story. By sharing, you can help others in similar situations.”

  “Yes,” Lois hissed and bobbed her head. “I love that idea. But you can’t help anyone if you give up on yourself.” Tears filled Lois’s eyes. “I love you, Vivian. You’re my best friend and I need you to be strong. Before I leave this world, I need to see you walking. If I don’t, I’ll haunt your butt for an eternity.”

  My mouth twitched, but on the inside, I was smiling. “Love you,” I typed.

  “I certainly wouldn’t want Lois haunting me,” Bunny said. “So, does that mean you’ll work your butt off and get on your feet?”

  My vision blurred as I typed, “Yes.”

  Nick stood. “How is it possible for Vivian to walk?”

  Bunny rose, too. “She sustained injuries to the lower part of her spinal cord, but with therapy, she could function normally. Like I said, though. No backflips or marathons. Unfortunately, when she was first admitted, there was a lot of swelling to her spinal cord, which caused the paralysis. The swelling has abated, but not fully. Medication is helping, though.” She touched my shoulder. “I also believe mental health and will power has played a big part in keeping her mobility limited.”

  Was Bunny right? Was I keeping myself locked in my own personal prison? I used to be a strong person. I glanced at Lois, whose strength I’ve admired. She’d been fighting the cancer for a long time, and would eventually lose. I need to fight, so that I can be strong for her. I want to be able to wrap my arms around her when she needs me.

  “Amazing,” Nick said with a shake of his head. “It’s late. I’m going to head to the hotel now and let you all get some rest. Vivian, thank you again for your help.” When Nick reached the door, he paused and looked at Bunny. “One question. Why do they call you Bunny?”

  While Bunny laughed, I typed. “Show him ears.”

  Bunny pulled her long, dark hair back in ponytail and revealed her peculiarly, elongated ears. “What’s up, Doc?”

  *

  The following Tuesday, Rachel entered Ian’s office and took a seat next to Owen. The past three days had been hectic. They’d spent Saturday and Sunday dealing with Preston and Conway, along with the crime scene at Preston’s house. Monday was Bill’s funeral, then the trip to Marietta. Through it all, she had dealt with moving Sean’s things from the dorms and into Joy’s house. Once Joy met Sean, she’d insisted he stay with her and Walter for the remainder of the semester. While she couldn’t be happier with the arrangement, a part of her had wanted Sean to come home where she could keep a better eye on him. But she knew she couldn’t keep him in a bubble forever, and Joy and Walter would make sure Sean was safe and well cared for.

  Now that the investigation was over and her brother was in good hands, she needed to make some serious decisions. About her career. About Owen.

  Considering she sat across from her boss, she had no choice but to deal with her career first. She handed Ian a hard copy of her final report. “I’ve also emailed you a copy,” she said, as her nervous stomach did a little flip.

  After Bob Conway had been taken away and Owen released, they’d gone back to Joy’s. It had been nearly two in the morning by the time either one of them had made it to their rooms. Emotionally and physically exhausted, needing comfort, needing to know Owen was safe, she’d been tempted to sneak into his room that night, but had refrained. She’d also needed time to decompress and process everything that had happened.

  She’d killed a killer. She’d taken a life and there were no do overs. Her nervous stomach grew nauseous. Dead was dead, and she was the reason Holly Saunders died. While she knew in her heart she’d been given no choice, and that if she hadn’t fought, she might be the one lying six feet under, regret still ate at her. She didn’t want to ever be put in a situation where her life might depend on another person’s death.

  Ian opened the file folder Rachel had handed him, flipped through a few pages, then closed it. “Give me the short version.”

  Rachel blinked and looked at Owen. “You’re the lead,” he said.

  She’d hoped to simply hand over the report, then go back to business as usual. Bury herself in work, then go home and do…

  Anything and everything to avoid Owen.

  Although she’d accepted his apology, she’d never told him the truth. That she loved him. That she couldn’t stand being without him. She’d almost told him Friday night, when they’d stood, bloodied and beaten, outside Xavier Preston’s house. Coming off an adrenaline rush, she’d been ready to confess her feelings, but thankfully he’d stopped her. She’d needed to process her love for Owen, too. How her feelings could affect them professionally, and whether or not she was willing to take a risk and pour her heart and soul into a personal relationship with him.

  When Ian cleared his throat, she glanced to her boss. “Sorry. Okay, short version…Xavier Preston was born and raised in Bola, Michigan. Twenty-five years ago, he attended Wexman University. It was during that time he pledged the Eta Tau Zeta fraternity.”

  “The same fraternity your brother and the missing boy pledged?” Ian asked.

  “Yes. And during Preston’s Hell Week, Robert Conway, who is the father of the kidnapped boy, Josh, tortured Preston.”

  “We spoke with Preston before the Michigan State Police took him,” Owen said. “Turns out Conway took Hell Week hazing to a new level.”

  Rachel crossed her legs. “Conway abused Preston throughout the week, made him think the abuse was more about trust, then he betrayed him. On the final day, he used a broomstick to rape Preston, then told him he wasn’t fit to join the Zetas.”

  Ian’s dark brows rose. “I take it this was the incident that put the no hazing policy in effect.”

  She nodded. “Only because Preston sent an anonymous letter to the president of the university. According to Preston, his father didn’t know about the incident, but his mother did and she refused to allow him to go to the authorities.”

  “I got the impression he was afraid of his mother, didn’t you?” Owen asked.

  “Yeah, I did. Anyway, Preston leaves Bola, transfers to Michigan University, where he not only finishes his degree, but meets Vivian Williams. He gets Vivian pregnant, tells her he wants nothing to do with the baby, and signs away his rights. Vivian goes on to meet Arthur Saunders. They marry, and he adopts Vivian’s daughter, Holly. Meanwhile, Preston returns to Bola
after he finishes getting a PhD, and begins working at Wexman University.”

  Ian frowned. “The timeline doesn’t work. The disappearances started happening twenty years ago.”

  “Right. Preston’s mother died the year before the first student was taken. His father had passed the year before that. According to Preston, he had a hard time dealing with what happened to him. Every anniversary of Hell Week, he became more anxious and prone to violence. As he put it, he needed…proper therapy.”

  Ian leaned into the chair and sighed. “So begins the Wexman Hell Week.”

  “Exactly,” Rachel said. “When the urge struck, if he wasn’t living in Bola, he’d sneak back into town for a week of therapy. And once he was living there, he insinuated himself into Wexman’s academic community, took a job as a professor, then later as a dean.”

  “Are all the missing students now accounted for?” Ian asked.

  “We discovered an old well on Preston’s property. It hasn’t been used in over sixty years, except to dump bodies. The Michigan State Police have their labs working on what they’ve recovered from the well. They’ll have to run DNA testing, but Preston confessed to not only using the well to hide the missing boys’ bodies, but also Ethel Rodeck, his elderly neighbor. Preston said he didn’t want to kill her, but she’d seen him put a boy in the well and he had no choice.”

  “There’s always a choice,” Ian said with a shake of his head. “Where does Holly Saunders fit in this?”

  She glanced to Owen, who had heard, first hand, Holly confess to killing her parents. “You’re up.”

  “According to Holly,” Owen began, “her adoptive father, Arthur Saunders, had been molesting her since she was twelve. When she discovered he wasn’t her real dad, she said she snapped. She killed the dad, then went after the mother, who she blamed for the rapes. After that, she decided to go after Preston. She also blamed him for the years of molestation. When she had us all in that cellar, she told Preston she was originally going to kill him on the spot, but then she found out about his Hell Week secret and decided death wasn’t as harsh a punishment as prison.”