Killer Romances
Page 62
~~~
Preston walked stealthily through the woods towards the event center. Hiding his car in a stand of trees off the main road had been easier said than done. Walking through brambles and dodging low hanging branches was not his idea of a good time.
“It will all be worth it,” he reminded himself as he sidestepped a spider’s web. “Half a mil from Chelsea’s life insurance, one and a half million from the insurance on the B&B and at least two million from the lawsuit against Mills. Not too shabby for an afternoon’s work.” Cheered by the numbers, he ignored the obnoxious nature walk and ran down the checklist in his head.
Finding the women alone at the event center was a stroke of luck, further evidence to Preston that his plan was meant to be. Fortunately, he’d seen their cars before they’d seen him, so he was able to backtrack and hide in the woods.
Once he had the women in place, getting the old man to join them would be a piece of cake. It was almost too simple, much better than his original plan. At this point, his only challenge was to separate the women.
~~~
Mac tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in exasperation.
“Sunday afternoon drivers,” he grumbled. “Why are they all on the highway?” Resigning himself to get home later than he thought, Mac let his mind wander over the meeting that morning.
All three of his employees had been surprised at the news, but Jeannie was downright stunned that he had included her in the deal. Chuckling, Mac recalled her exact words when he spelled it out.
“Shut the hell up,” she’d said, spewing coffee in the process. “You’re giving us the money to buy your business. The three of us, me included.” As concise as her recap had been, it was not entirely accurate.
“No, I’m loaning you the money to buy the business. You’ll pay me back every quarter, based on gross sales.” Mac clarified. “And of course I’m including you, Jeannie. Do you really think this office could run without you?”
“No, but…” she stammered.
“No buts, are you interested or not?”
“Of course I’m interested, my mama didn’t raise a fool,” Jeannie’s grin lit the room.
Davis and Peterson were both on board as well, much to Mac’s relief.
“I’ll have the papers drawn up this week, but as far as I’m concerned, you three are the new owners effective immediately.” Mac made a point to shake all three hands. “As such, one of you must be at the site tomorrow at eight sharp to meet Striker. At least that’s the latest demand, who knows if he’ll actually show.” Mac had left them debating which one would be at Striker’s beck and call. He couldn’t have been happier to wash his hands of the whole ordeal.
“I definitely made the right decision,” leaning back, he forced himself to relax and enjoy the ride.
~~~
“Surely you heard that, it was right outside,” Chelsea jumped up again and went to the door, opening it wide.
“Sounded like a cat, why are you so jumpy today?” Sharon did not move, barely even looked up.
“I don’t know, I suppose I’m nervous about the opening. I don’t see anything.” Closing the door, Chelsea sat back down.
“Why? Everything’s going great. The room will be finished soon, the food is in the fridge, waiting for my magic touch, the B&B looks great, what could go wrong?”
“I don’t know,” Chelsea said again. “Maybe everything’s going too smoothly, or maybe I’m nervous that it’s up to me, us, to make this a success.”
“You worry too much,” Sharon poured crystals around the base of a candle. “Look at this place, and the restaurant and the B&B. We will be successful, count on it. First you’re worried that we’ll have too much business, now you’re worried that we’ll tank. Pick one, Chels, so I can hone my argument.”
Chelsea laughed, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Something was putting her on edge, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
“I know I’m being silly. Ignore me.”
“You are, and I will.” Sharon stood and stretched. “Hey, do you want a water? I’m getting one.”
“Sure, thanks.” Chelsea watched as her friend headed for the kitchen through the connecting passageway.
~~~
Preston couldn’t believe it when Sharon left the room; it was all happening just the way he needed. The random noises had not lured either woman from the room, but now that Sharon was in the kitchen, he could make his move.
~~~
Standing to stretch her back after finishing the last centerpiece, Chelsea looked at her watch. Sharon had been gone a long time.
“Probably couldn’t resist tweaking the kitchen,” she said aloud as she began taking the arrangements to the tables. Once they were in place, she stepped back and admired their handiwork. The room looked elegant, but comfortable. Warm, but chic. It was perfect.
Sighing with satisfaction, she went to the kitchen to help Sharon.
~~~
Preston placed a trussed up Sharon in the back seat of her car just as Chelsea entered the empty kitchen. His calculations on the amount of Ketamine he needed were off; it had taken longer than he anticipated for the drug to take full effect, plus tying up a limp woman had proven more difficult than it appeared in the movies.
And she’d put up a fight, he thought with disgust as he looked down at the deep scratches on his forearms.
“Bitch,” he spat at the unconscious woman. “You’re all alike, no appreciation.” Convinced that drugging the women was the humane thing to do, he questioned whether or not he should wait until they were conscious to blow up the house. “It’s what you deserve,” he told her, before silently closing the door and moving to the event center.
~~~
“Sharon? Where are you?” Chelsea called to the empty kitchen. Everything was in place, two bottles of water sat sweating on the counter, but Sharon was nowhere in sight.
“Maybe she went to the restaurant,” Chelsea muttered, walking towards the service elevator. Riding down, she smiled at the view of the cliffs, glad that John had decided to add glass to this elevator as well as the one for patrons.
When the doors slid open, she knew right away that Sharon was not there. The room was bathed in the shadows of late afternoon sun, but every inch of the space was visible.
“Sharon?” she called anyway, holding the elevator door open. Silence. Chelsea backed into the lift and pressed the button that would take her to the top of the cliff.
~~~
Preston peered through the window, but did not see Chelsea anywhere.
“Where are you?” he whispered as he carefully opened the door leading to the decorated room. “You’re probably looking for the other bitch,” he grinned and quickly walked to the passageway leading to the kitchen.
~~~
The elevator doors slid open just as Preston eased into the kitchen. Chelsea felt the change in the room as soon as she stepped forward. Suddenly charged with energy, the kitchen seemed ominous where only minutes before it had seemed fine. The eerie quiet made the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight up.
“Sharon?” Chelsea said again, but this time it was more of a whisper. She could feel that someone was here, but somehow knew that it wasn’t her friend.
“Sharon?” Reaching for a pot hanging from an overhead rack, Chelsea armed herself as best she could; the knives were on the opposite side of the room. “Who’s there?” she asked louder, not really expecting a response.
~~~
Preston pressed himself against the door to the walk-in freezer so that Chelsea could not see him. Holding the syringe with one hand, he prepared to grab her as soon as she turned the corner.
How exhilarating, he thought as she slowly walked towards him. Her fear was palpable, adding fuel to his mania.
~~~
Chelsea approached the corner with serious trepidation. Every cell in her body was screaming for her to run in the other direction. Ignoring her gut, she raised the metal pot over her head an
d prepared to crush it onto whomever was waiting on the other side of the wall.
Preston held his breath when he heard her stop at the edge of the turn. He fancied that he could hear her heartbeat, imagined that he could smell her fear. It thrilled him.
Deciding to throw her off base, he hid the syringe behind his back and stepped away from the wall, calling her name as he did so.
“Chelsea, are you here?” he asked innocently as he appeared before her. “There you are.”
Chelsea brought the pan down hard, barely missing Preston’s head.
“Preston! What the hell are you doing here? You nearly scared me to death,” laughing nervously, Chelsea raised one hand to her chest, willing her heartbeat to slow down. “Have you seen Sharon?”
“As a matter of fact,” Preston said as he moved in closer to the relieved woman, “I have.” He inserted the syringe into her neck before Chelsea knew what was happening. The shock in her eyes barely registered before she collapsed onto the floor.
“It worked much faster on you,” Preston observed casually, removing the zip ties from his back pocket.
~~~
“Chelsea, it’s JB. I wanted to get your input on the website. Give me a call when you get this,” JB left the message then pushed back from the computer. Noting the time, he was surprised to find that the day had nearly slipped away.
“Time flies when you’re having fun,” he quipped in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Fun, humph, I barely remember what that was like.” Standing in front of the fridge, he realized that groceries had not been a priority for the last few days. With a jar of mustard and a nearly empty carton of milk staring back at him, he decided to make a food run.
“Chelsea’s probably on the mountain, getting ready for tomorrow. Maybe I’ll drop by and show her the website; it’ll be good to take a drive.” Ignoring the voice in his head that immediately jumped to the fact that he just wanted to see Sharon, JB grabbed the computer and his car keys and headed for the door.
~~~
John lounged in his recliner as he scoured the Sunday paper. Reading the Starsdale Gazette with Martha on Sunday was one of their favorite pastimes; keeping the tradition alive after she left was as much a tribute to her as it was enjoyable to him.
“Listen to this,” he chuckled, reading aloud as was their custom. “Artemus Pike reports strange activity in the fields adjacent to his barn. Though this reporter has no proof of the incident, Mr. Pike insists that the circular depression in the field was created by an unidentified aircraft landing in the dead of night. Mr. Pike further reports that the aircraft scanned the property with a strong beam of light, prior to descending onto his land.”
Laughing aloud now, John shook his head.
“Only in Starsdale,” he murmured, “I’m sure going to miss this.”
The phone lying on the table beside him buzzed, indicating an incoming text. Glancing over, he saw that it was from Chelsea. Glad to see that she hadn’t changed her mind about dinner, he puzzled a moment over her message.
“But why does she want to meet at the house?” he wondered, folding the paper. “Oh well, we’ll pick this up later, Martha.”
~~~
Preston wiped his prints from Chelsea’s phone and placed it back in her purse. Not that there would be anything left to fingerprint, but just in case.
The women were still out cold, lying on the floor in the kitchen, oblivious to the danger surrounding them.
As Preston waited for John to arrive, he took one last walk through the newly renovated home.
“She really did a nice job,” he nodded approvingly. “The place feels like a period home, but comfortable at the same time. Bravo, Chelsea.” He raised an imaginary glass. “Too bad that it will all disappear, poof, up in smoke.” Laughing at his pun, he set about turning on the lights, making it appear as if Chelsea waited for guests to arrive. Passing by the desk in the foyer, a decorative crystal prism caught his eye.
“Maybe I’ll take this to remember you by,” slipping the bauble into his pocket, he headed up the stairs.
~~~
“She’s got every light in the house on,” John commented as he rolled to a stop in front of the house. “Looks like Sharon is here, too. Maybe she’s cooking,” cheered at the thought, he exited the car, whistling as he walked to the house.
The rocking chairs on the front porch invited him to sit, but John kept going until he reached the front door.
Should I ring the bell, or walk in, he debated, feeling as much at home here as he did at his own house. Ring the bell, he decided, thinking that Chelsea may wish to make the evening more formal.
As he waited, John inspected the workmanship on the stained glass panels in the front door. They’d cost a pretty penny, but fit perfectly with the style of the home. Chelsea really loved them, which was all that mattered.
Thoughts of money reminded John that he needed to tell Mac about his ‘donations’ to the project. Not completely sure that Mac would approve, John still didn’t regret one single thing he had done for Chelsea or for Starsdale. Mac would have to understand. Now that he was seeing Chelsea, maybe the news would go over better.
Hearing footsteps, John smiled as the door swung wide. His smile froze at the sight of Preston Beecher, standing in the foyer as if he owned the place, a stiff smile of greeting on his perfectly chiseled face.
“What are…”John began, but Preston interrupted him.
“Good evening Mr. Mills. Please come in. Chelsea and Sharon are in the kitchen.” Preston hoped that his invitation would suffice; he preferred having Mills walk into the kitchen on his own two feet.
John felt a prickle of warning on the back of his neck, but he ignored it. Though he’d never liked this Preston character, he seemed harmless enough. Besides, the girls were inside, waiting for him.
In silence, John followed Preston through the dining room. Pausing at the closed kitchen door, Preston turned to face him.
“I’m afraid there’s been a small accident,” he said, then walked quickly through the swinging door, holding it open so that John could follow.
John frowned and stepped into the room, stopping when he saw both women lying on the floor, hands and feet tied behind them.
Shock set in for a split second, then he ran to the women, not thinking of anything but their safety. He never saw the needle, but felt its ugly sting before collapsing in a heap.
~~~
Mac passed the diner as he drove through town. He didn’t see John’s truck or Chelsea’s car, so he kept driving.
Slipping on his headset, he dialed Chelsea’s number.
“Hey, Chels, I’m in town, came back early ‘cause I missed you so much. Where are you? Give me a call.” Disconnecting, he dialed his dad.
“Hey, Pop, I’m home, call me.”
Wondering where they could be, he decided to drive by Sharon’s on his way home. He knew they were having dinner tonight, thought it was at the diner, but assumed their plans had changed.
Maybe Sharon’s cooking, he thought with a grin and sped up just a bit. Or Chelsea’s cooking, can she cook, he wondered idly as he maneuvered the car along the all but deserted roads.
“Do I care?” his grin widened as he thought of the special night they’d shared. Planning on having another night just like it, and soon, he pulled into Sharon’s drive.
Empty.
“Okay, so where are you guys?” Backing out into the road, he pointed the car in the direction of home.
~~~
JB reached the event center just as the sun dipped below the horizon. Orange streaks shot vivid color into the sky above jagged peaks draped in white and blue. It was too much to resist; he quickly set up his camera and started shooting.
The sound of a car slowly making its way along the mountain road did not faze him. Determined to capture the swiftly changing colors of the deepening sun, JB didn’t notice Mac until he was standing right beside him.
“Hey, buddy, have you seen Chelsea?”
“What? Oh, hi, Mac.” JB kept snapping. “Chelsea? No, but I’d like to. That’s why I’m here.” Finally lowering the camera, JB took one last look at the darkening sky before turning to his friend.
“Did you have a meeting? I thought she was having dinner with dad, but I can’t find them anywhere.”
“No, I wanted to show her the website, but I couldn’t get her on the phone. Thought I might find her here, getting ready for the party.”
“Good call, but I guess not.” Mac looked around, noticing for the first time that the door to the kitchen was open. “That’s strange,” he said, walking to check it out. “Have you been up to the house?”
“No, I stopped here and the sunset caught my attention.” Coming up behind Mac, JB peered into the dark kitchen. “Everything okay?”
“Appears to be, but it’s not like Chelsea to leave the door standing wide open. Sharon either, for that matter.” Scratching his head, he felt a shiver wash over him. Suddenly concerned, he began walking quickly up the hill to the house.
JB followed, catching up to Mac in a few strides.
“I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about, when was the last time anything bad happened in Starsdale?” Chuckling, JB fell into step beside Mac.
“No idea, but there’s always a first time.” The shiver had settled in Mac’s gut, making every nerve stand at attention in anticipation. Everything would be fine as soon as he laid eyes on Chelsea.
“She must be here; the house is lit up like a beacon.” JB clapped Mac on the shoulder; he could feel the other man’s tension coming off him in waves.
Relieved but not completely pacified, Mac sighed as they topped the hill and saw Chelsea’s, Sharon’s and his dad’s cars in the parking lot.
JB noticed them as well and stopped. There was no way that he was surprising Sharon again.
“Tell Chelsea to call me tomorrow. I think I’ll head on home.”
Mac looked sideways at JB, immediately understanding why he didn’t want to come inside.
“Sure thing,” he stopped beside his friend, then offered his two cents. “You know you’ll have to talk to her sooner or later, why not now?”