Carla Cassidy

by Scene of the Crime Killer Cove

  She told herself to stay calm, but a terrifying panic rose up the back of her throat, making her feel nauseous. Under the circumstances she just couldn’t help the terror that shuddered through her body.

  “Hello, Claire.” The familiar voice came from the darkened entrance to the shower.

  “Hello, Roger,” she replied, somehow unsurprised that it was him. Her brain had subconsciously made the connection when she’d realized she was in the shower room at the school. “What’s going on?” She kept her voice calm as if this was all some sort of familiar game they played as they so often played basketball in the gym.

  “You ruined everything, Claire. I had it all planned out in my head. It was all going to be so perfect and then you ruined it all and now you have to die.”

  Claire instantly realized she wasn’t dealing with the man she’d played ball with, the man she’d shared so many lunches with both at school and in her home. Gone was the warmth in his eyes, replaced by a fire of simmering rage. His entire body was tensed and his hands balled into fists in a rhythmic pattern of one...two...three and then pause. One...two...three and then pause.

  “What did I ruin, Roger?” She knew the only hope she had of somebody finding them was to try to keep him talking as long as possible.

  Time. At the moment time was her best friend. She needed as much of it as she could possibly get to give somebody an opportunity to find her.

  “Everything,” he screamed, his voice echoing in the shower chamber as the cords of his neck popped out.

  Claire fought the terror that ripped through her at the raw hatred in his voice. Calm. She had to stay calm. “You said you had a plan. What was the plan, Roger?”

  He swiped his hands down the sides of his face, took several steps into the shower and then leaned with his back against the opposite wall and stared at her. The rage in his eyes dissipated and was replaced with a soft look of dreams to come.

  “I’ve loved you for a long time, Claire, but you know I had some issues I needed to work on. I worked hard to make my OCD manageable, and it was all because I wanted to be a good man for you. I finally got to the point where I felt comfortable starting my courtship.”

  “You were my secret admirer,” she said. “You left the flowers on my porch. Why didn’t you just come right out and tell me how you felt?”

  “Because I had a plan. I needed to follow the plan,” he replied impatiently, as if she were slow-minded. “The flowers and notes were just the beginning. I wanted you to believe your secret admirer was thoughtful and romantic.”

  “I did,” she replied fervently. “I was charmed by the gifts left on my porch. I couldn’t wait to meet the wonderful person who left them for me.” It was a lie. Maybe she’d been charmed after the first couple of times, but the whole thing had become creepy and stalkerish.

  “In my plan the next step was to invite you for pizza one night, just a casual meal that we’d share together.”

  “Like you’d planned to do with Mary,” Claire said.

  Roger snorted. “I was never interested in that insipid woman at the diner. She meant nothing to me. It was you. It was always you.” He frowned. “I want you to hear the whole plan, so don’t interrupt me again or I might lose my temper.”

  He began to pace, taking three steps in one direction and then three steps in the opposite direction. He didn’t look at her when he spoke again.

  “We’d have a casual pizza date and you’d start to see me not just as a coach, not just as a friend, but you’d feel a little romantic attraction toward me. After a week or so we’d have another date, this one at Jimmy’s Place. We’d order the steak special and laugh and the chemistry would be amazing between us. At the end of that date we’d share our first kiss.”

  He paused a moment in his pacing and closed his eyes, as if imagining the kiss in his mind. Creepy-crawlies shot through Claire as every nerve inside her recoiled.

  She realized she wasn’t dealing with obsessive-compulsive disorder, but rather something deeper and darker. Roger was in a place in his head where she didn’t want to go.

  His eyes shot open once again and he stared at her. “The kiss would be magic and you’d know then that we belonged together. After that it would be you and me sharing ice cream at one of the umbrella tables or walking hand in hand down the sidewalks. On our third official date we’d have dinner at my place and that night we would make love.”

  He began to pace again. “After that it would be a whirlwind romance. Within two months we’d be engaged and in four months we’d be married and you’d never leave me. That was the plan, Claire. We were supposed to be together forever. Then you screwed it all up by hooking up with a bad boy on a motorcycle.”

  “Bo and I aren’t hooked up,” she said desperately. “We’re just friends and I’ve been working with him to find out who killed Shelly Sinclair. He really means nothing to me.”

  “Liar!” Once again Roger’s angry voice bounced off the walls. “I see the way you look at him. I see the way he looks at you. That’s not friendship, it’s lust and want and it wasn’t supposed to be that way. You were supposed to be all mine.”

  “I didn’t know the plan, Roger,” she protested. “I didn’t know that you were my secret admirer. It’s not too late for us. We could have that pizza date and see how things play out.”

  “It is too late.” He drew in a deep breath, his eyes dead and empty of emotion. “You’re tainted and now you need to be killed.”

  “Did you set the fire at Bo’s to kill us both?” Keep him talking, she thought in desperation. Surely Bo was tearing up the town in an effort to find her. Find me, Bo. Please find me, her heart begged.

  Roger nodded. “Do you know how many people die in their sleep from smoke inhalation? That was my first idea, but I had a backup plan. If the two of you managed to escape the fire, I figured there might be enough of a commotion around that I’d be able to grab you.” He offered her a self-satisfied smile. “A smart man always has a backup plan.”

  “What did you give me to knock me out?”

  “A little antianxiety medication. Trust me, over the years I’ve learned a lot about the doses and effects of those kinds of drugs. I should have drugged you that night at your mailbox.”

  “Why do I have to die?” Tears misted her vision and she consciously willed them away, not wanting him to see any weakness.

  “Because I can’t live my life and see you every day and be reminded of the plan that was supposed to make me happy for the rest of my life. You would just be a painful reminder of my failure and of your betrayal.”

  “Roger, you won’t get away with this. You were already on a list of suspects after you attacked me at my house. They’ll be looking for you and you don’t have an alibi.”

  “I’ll make one up,” he said easily. “I’ll tell them I often have trouble sleeping and come here to shoot hoops. They won’t be able to disprove it.”

  “If you kill me here, there will be evidence.” Her desperation peaked as she realized she was running out of time.

  “I don’t intend to leave a blood trail. The only evidence they’ll find is a damp towel and several loose basketballs in the gym, furthering my alibi.”

  “Then how do you intend to kill me?” she asked, knowing that despite the ropes she’d fight him in any way possible. Somehow, someway, she wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

  “I’m going to strangle you, Claire, and then I’m going to carry your limp, dead body to the lagoon and leave you where Shelly was left. I think the sheriff will find it a strange coincidence that Bo McBride came back to town and for a second time was intimately involved with a woman who is found floating in the lagoon.”

  A mind-numbing horror swept over her, not for herself, but for Bo, who would be forced to relive his traumatic past. He wasn’t in love with her as he’d been with Shelly, but Claire knew he cared about her.

  “I’m going to the gym now to set things up to substantiate my alibi. When I come back,
then it’s time...time to rid myself of you.”

  As he left the shower room the tears Claire had fought so hard to hold back released. She would never hug a little student again. She would never see Bo again, feel his arms wrapped around her, taste his hot, sensual lips.

  The happily-ever-after she’d dreamed of with a special man ended here, in a pine-scented boys’ shower room with a man who had gone to great lengths to end her dreams and end her life.

  Chapter Twelve

  Bo reached the lagoon and fell to his knees in relief when he found no body floating in the water. He didn’t know how long he remained on the ground, emotions raging out of control and leaching physical strength from him.

  The clock that had been ticking so loudly, so frantically in his head since the moment he’d discovered Claire gone had gone silent. His relief at not finding her here was short-lived, for he feared they were too late. She’d been gone too long.

  He hadn’t heard anything from Trey, letting him know that nobody else had been successful in locating Roger and Claire, and she’d been gone for well over two hours.

  He couldn’t stanch the emotion that erupted from the depths of him. Tears filled his eyes and raced down his cheeks, tears he couldn’t stop as his heart felt her absence.

  It wouldn’t be long before the morning sun would peek over the horizon, making the search a little easier, but also bringing with it a sense of hopelessness he didn’t want to face.

  He wanted her found before the sun came up. He needed to hold her in his arms before a new day broke. Where could they be? Apparently Trey had found no record of any other property Roger owned, otherwise he would have called Bo.

  He finally managed to pull himself to his feet and walked over to the stone bench and sank down. His brain was in utter chaos, making it impossible for him to think clearly as he swiped away the tears.

  Had Roger borrowed or stolen a car? Was it possible the two of them were no longer even in the town of Lost Lagoon? If that was the case then they could be anywhere within a two-hour drive.

  Think, Bo demanded of himself. If he were Roger Cantor where would he take Claire? Roger Cantor, seemingly nice guy, battling OCD and beloved coach at the school. Nerves jumped inside him.

  The school! Bo knew Roger had a key to the gym door. It would be a familiar place, somewhere he would feel safe. Bo jumped up from the bench, his heart beating so fast he was half dizzy.

  He took off running, hoping he was right and that it wasn’t already too late. The school was on the opposite side of town, but Bo had no intention of pacing himself.

  He ran all out, as if he were a high school athlete trying to make the track team. He ignored cramping calf muscles and the stitch in his side, focused only on getting to the place where Claire might be with her monster.

  Although he knew deputies were out searching, he didn’t see anyone as he raced to the only place that suddenly made sense. It had to be the school, and if they weren’t there, then he was lost and defeated.

  Would he be in time or would he find Claire injured or, even more heartbreaking, dead? He couldn’t think about that now, for if he did he’d lose it, and he needed to keep it together now more than ever before.

  He hadn’t been able to save Shelly. He needed to save Claire and that need drove him forward faster than he’d ever run in his entire life.

  When the school came into view, it appeared to be a dark, uninhabited fortress. No lights glowed at any of the windows. He finally slowed his pace to catch his breath as he moved from the front of the building to the back.

  There were no cars in the parking lot, but Bo knew that Roger was physically fit enough to carry Claire anywhere he wanted her to be.

  By the time Bo reached the back door that led into the short hallway and the gym area, his breathing had returned to normal despite the race of his heart and a new adrenaline spike.

  He reached out for the door handle and caught his breath as the door clicked open. They were here! He stepped into the dark hallway and looked just ahead where the gymnasium was dark, as well.

  Then he heard her scream. Every nerve in his body jumped in response as he tried to discern where the scream had come from. He took several steps forward and peered into the boys’ locker room. The main area, where the students had their lockers and changed clothes was dark, but a light shone in the shower area.

  Bo surged forward at the same time he heard Claire scream again. He entered the shower to see Claire on the floor and Roger on top of her, apparently trying to strangle her.

  Bo roared with rage as he threw himself forward. At the same time Roger turned and rolled to his feet to meet Bo’s attack.

  She’s alive, the words screamed in the back of Bo’s head. But he knew she wouldn’t be for long if he didn’t manage to somehow neutralize Roger.

  The two men met in the center of the shower and began throwing punches at each other like a couple of bar brawlers. Bo was taller but Roger was stockier. Roger was driven by self-preservation, but Bo was driven by the need to protect Claire at any cost.

  Roger landed a punch to Bo’s stomach that momentarily took Bo’s breath away, but he recovered by slamming an uppercut into Roger’s chin. Roger stepped back and shook his head, but then charged Bo once again, this time using his leg in an effort to sweep Bo’s feet out from beneath him.

  Bo managed to stay on his feet but Roger slammed him with a fist to the eye. The only sound in the shower was the slap and punch of hits and the grunts and heavy breathing of the two men as they battled.

  Bo realized the two of them were evenly matched when it came to throwing punches, and that was when he remembered the knife he’d tucked into his pocket earlier in the evening.

  He managed to gain enough distance from Roger to pull out the knife and open it. But the moment he held it out before him Roger surprised him with a perfectly delivered kick that sent the knife out of his hand and sliding across the concrete floor.

  Both men lunged for the weapon. Roger reached it first and threw his body over Bo’s. Bo grabbed the hand that held the knife pointed at his heart.

  “No!” Claire screamed, making the first sound she’d made since Bo had appeared.

  Bo’s entire body trembled as he fought to keep the knife from plunging into his body. “You should have stayed away from Lost Lagoon.” Roger’s breath was hot and fetid on Bo’s face. “You should have stayed away from her.”

  “Roger, your plan was stupid and would have never worked because I secretly thought you were nothing but a creep,” Claire said fervently. “I would have never dated you or belonged to you in any way. You’re nothing to me, Roger, and no matter what your plan you would have never been anything to me.”

  Her words had power, for Roger weakened and in a flash Bo managed to grab the knife and roll on top of the man. Bo held the knife to Roger’s throat.

  Bo had never entertained a homicidal thought in his life until that moment. He wanted to kill Roger. He wanted the man dead for touching Claire in any way, for terrorizing her and trying to take her away forever from Bo.

  His hand at Roger’s throat shook slightly. Roger’s eyes were huge as he stared up at Bo, waiting for death to be delivered.

  “Bo.” Claire’s voice cut through the killing rage that threatened to consume him. “You aren’t a killer,” she said softly. “Don’t become what some people still believe you are.”

  Bo’s hand shook harder as he fought an internal battle, the need to destroy the man who’d sought to destroy Claire and the desire to stay true to the man he believed himself to be.

  He finally tossed the knife aside and delivered a punch to Roger’s face that rolled Roger’s eyes up in the back of his head and rendered him unconscious.

  Bo instantly got up, grabbed the knife once again and hurried to where Claire was huddled in the corner. Neither of them spoke as he cut through the rope around her ankles and then through the binds around her wrists.

  It was only when she was free that he pul
led her up off the floor and into his arms. He held her tightly, as if afraid that somebody might try to rip her away from him again.

  She began to cry, her face burrowed against his chest as tremors raced through her. He caressed a hand up and down her back, murmuring soft assurances that she was safe and nobody would ever hurt her again.

  At the same time he kept an eye on the unmoving Roger. He had no idea how long the man might stay unconscious and he didn’t want to go another round with the athletic coach.

  Claire’s tears finally ebbed and he released her. “I need to call Trey, but first I want to make sure that Roger doesn’t come to and have more fight left in him.”

  He picked up the ropes he’d cut off Claire and used them to tie Roger’s wrists together. The man still appeared to be completely out.

  Once that was done, he grabbed the phone Trey had given to him to use and by searching the contacts found the number to call to reach Trey on his official business cell phone.

  With the phone call made, Bo led Claire out of the shower enclosure and into the main locker room, where he turned on the lights and then pulled her to sit next to him on one of the wooden benches between the walls of lockers.

  “I didn’t think anyone would ever find me,” she said, her voice still holding a tremor that spoke of the terror she’d suffered.

  “Thank God I figured it was Roger before I left the scene of my house.” He explained to her the careful alignment of the gas cans that had been the clue he’d needed.

  “Trey and I checked his house first. One wall of his bedroom was filled with pictures of you. He’s apparently been stalking you for a long time.”

  Claire shivered and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer against him. “When we didn’t find you at Roger’s place, Trey and I split up,” he continued.

  He told her about going to her home and finding Eric there, then his mad dash to the lagoon, afraid that history would repeat itself.