by Diane Capri
I found a PowerBar in my glove box and munched on it—I had missed lunch and dinner. I wanted to know where the black car had parked, but I did not want to drive by and get spotted.
A few minutes later, the car drove by the other way and I ducked in my seat. Great, she’d been dropped off … now I had no way of knowing where she was.
I started the car and backed out. No time to wait—I was going to risk it. I had gone this far already.
The street flattened out after going uphill for a few blocks. All these houses overlooked the city and had amazing views. At the end of the street were a gate and a long drive that went up and over a small hill. I couldn’t see the house at the end, but I figured it was the place.
There was a guard shack at the gate and a big dog lounging under a tree. Who else would have security like this at their house? I pulled over, not getting too close so the cameras wouldn’t spot me, and turned around. As I drove down the hill, I took note of the other houses. They were all big, but nothing with a gate or security. It had to be Hank’s house.
Okay, so I knew where he lived. Big deal. I could’ve found that on the Internet. What was I going to do, sneak in and spy on him?
Parking at the same house where I did before, I waited. I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for, but I needed time to think. I texted Mandy and told her I was okay and that Angela was doing better. She replied in all caps that I was a stupid, stubborn brat and that if I did anything like that again, she’d kill me herself.
Can I stay with you and Rick tonight? Don’t feel like being alone.
You’d better if you want to stay friends.
She said she would be gone all evening but would be back by ten, and that I’d better be home soon after. I smiled and shook my head. She was acting like a mom.
I looked up just as a car passed, and I about had a heart attack. Driving by in a silver Lexus was none other than Hank Williams.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
HE DROVE ON AND didn’t look toward me. I sucked in a breath and groaned. Was it Hank, or was it Glen? Adrenaline rushed through me, and I felt energized and tired all at the same time. But I was determined to see this through to the end. For Angela’s sake. For Heather’s sake. For Tracy’s sake. For my sake.
Starting the car, I pulled out after him, making sure to stay back.
Was he visiting Hannah, or did he live at the house? I kept on following him. It was a sure bet that he was up to no good.
The Lexus made a right on Hill Road and I turned on my blinker and followed. Traffic was lighter and it wasn’t until we turned down Whitehead Street that I knew where he was going.
He was driving to my best friend’s house, the place where I was supposed to be staying tonight. Rick and Mandy’s.
I had to get there before him. Taking a shortcut, I gunned it. Tires squealed and streets sped by. I turned corners so fast, I almost flipped the car, and disregarded stop signs. My heart pumped in my ears, but I’d never felt so charged up. All the car-racing video games I’d played as a kid paid off because I reached the house before the Lexus.
They’d given me a garage door opener as a gift for Christmas a few years back. I pulled into the garage and hit the button to lower the large metal door. I entered, slammed the door, entered in the alarm code on the keypad, and took the stairs two at a time. The guest room where I would sleep was on the second floor.
I dumped my purse out on the bed, searching for my gun. My hands trembled as I loaded the clip with bullets from my pocket. There was no calm exterior anymore, just a raw need to protect my friends.
The cool metal felt good in my hands, but as I loaded the clip I had a sinking feeling about how alone I was in all this. There would be no one to come. No one to have my back. It was just me against the killer.
Bring it.
As I sat on the edge of the bed, I worked out a plan. It wasn’t much, but it was the only thing I could think of in such a short time. Letting my anger build, I made myself remember the crime scene photos, the blood, the hanging body, Heather’s hollow eyes and rotting teeth, Angela’s limp, blood-soaked body, and then … my mind roved deeper, to what had happened in the past.
I felt a fire grow within me, and I didn’t squelch it this time.
CHAPTER FIFTY
Rick was a little paranoid. He had a small room he called the security room. It held the monitors for all the cameras throughout the house, the alarm switchboard, and some other things that just looked like buttons and lights to me.
I’d known them both a long time, so I knew the codes and how to work most everything from the few times I’d house-sat for them. The house was dark with all the blackout blinds drawn. I went through the house, making sure all the doors and windows were locked except for the one right off the back porch. I figured he would go around checking them, and if my hunch was right, he would walk right into my trap.
I turned on all the alarms, but put them into silent mode so I could see what ones got tripped and they wouldn’t send out an audible alarm.
I sat in the dark security room watching, waiting for him to come.
The house creaked in the wind. A timer buzzed somewhere, maybe the dryer. Nothing happened. Maybe Williams had just driven past, nothing more. Was I losing it?
It had been over an hour and I was about to give up when a little red light came on. The large monitor showed a map of the house. And when the silent alarm went off, a message flashed onscreen.
SOUTHEAST WINDOW BREACH!
It was the one I left cracked open.
As I found the monitor for the camera on that side of the house, my hands started shaking again. I needed to throw up, but forced it down. Using my sleeve, I wiped the sweat off my brow. A dark figure ducked in through the open window and stood in the dining room. He was dressed in black with a hood over his head.
A warning message flashed again, but this one was different.
POLICE WILL BE NOTIFIED. TO CANCEL, TYPE IN YOUR PASSWORD!
I typed in the password and the warning message disappeared. I could break a window later if I needed to get some help, but right now I needed time alone with Williams.
Williams—I didn’t know which one—slowly made his way toward the stairs that led up to the bedrooms—my bedroom. I flexed my left hand and began to wrap the right with a torn piece of my shirt. Kickboxing classes taught me to wrap my hands and feet before a fight; it would protect them. And just the act of wrapping the cloth made my hands stop shaking.
I loaded a round in the chamber just like Solomon showed me and slipped the gun in my left pocket. This was it, and just down the hall was a man who wanted to kill me. I was done running. This time, he’d better run.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
WALKING AS QUIETLY AS I could, I made my way down the hall toward the guest room. Although the lights were off, the sunlight cutting through the slats in the blinds cast a creepy glow through the side windows. Slivers of light cut across the hall and I moved past them as fast as I could without making any noise.
The hall was empty.
I held the gun in both hands off to one side and down. I didn’t want to turn a corner and have it knocked from my hands.
With my back to the wall, I peeked into my room. There, standing over the bed, which I’d stuffed with pillows to make it seem like I was asleep, was Williams.
His hood was off and he held a long knife in his right hand.
Stepping into the room, I raised my gun and pointed it at his back.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Williams.” My voice sounded calm and low.
He spun around and bent his knees a little as if to attack. “Sarah Steele.” He didn’t sound as shocked as I’d hoped. “You’re better than I thought. How long have you been waiting in the dark for me?”
“Long enough. Now sit.”
Williams grinned and shook his head. “No, I don’t think I’ll do that.”
Before I could react, he grabbed a pillow and threw it at me. Lunging forwar
d, he batted at the gun and it flew from my hands. I stumbled backward and he hit me in the midsection. All the air in my lungs left in a whoosh. White stars crossed my line of sight, but I righted myself and my kickboxing training took over.
Hands up, elbows in. I crouched.
Grinning, he held up the knife and slashed at me. One step back and then I sent a roundhouse kick his way. The sound of his ribs connecting with my foot gave me a little hope. I came up with my knee and grabbed his head at the same time, forcing his head down as my knee came up.
A sick crunch and a wet groan told me I’d broken his nose. He dropped the knife and I frantically searched for my gun as he crumpled to the carpet.
There, next to the wall, was my gun. I ran to it and scooped it up. Turning, I aimed the gun at Hank, or whoever he was, and he looked up at me, holding his nose.
“Don’t move or I’ll shoot. I mean it!”
Coughing up more blood, he wiped at the damp hair that hung in his eyes. “You got a mean kick. Learn that from your boyfriend?”
“Shut up. You don’t get to talk about him.” I coughed, and my breath wheezed. My lungs weren’t holding air like they should.
“Oh ...” He held up his hands in mock surrender. “What are you gonna do—take me in, call the police?” He laughed and winced. Hunching over, he clutched his side and cursed. “You know where that got you last time.”
I spoke through gritted teeth. “You really shouldn’t be baiting me right now.”
“Ha, you won’t kill me. You’re the ADA. You have a moral code, a promise to uphold the law. Besides, you have no idea who I am and what I’m capable of.”
“And you don’t know what I’m capable of.” I should have been scared, shaking and freaked out, but I wasn’t. My hand was steady and my mind was working like a well-oiled machine.
“Where is your loser brother?” I took a step back, trying to get between him and the door just in case he tried to run.
“Where do you think? Figure it out—you’re smart enough.”
I lifted the gun and closed one eye. He lifted his right hand defensively and grimaced. “Stop, fine, just stop!”
I lowered the gun and waited.
“My guess is that he’s halfway to Bali by now. He doesn’t like to get his hands dirty—he’s more of an observer.” Hank coughed and spit, grinning up at me. “Come on, Sarah, you know you want to, but you, like most women, are weak …”
Something wasn’t right. He was stalling, and not just to keep me from shooting him. Hank chuckled and that same look I saw in court crossed his face, the one that was not worried, not scared, as if he knew the ending.
Before I could react, the bedroom door exploded inward, throwing me forward. I hit the ground and rolled and managed to hold on to my gun. Hank crawled away from the door, and through the smoke a tall man in a suit stepped into the room. It was the same man who had kidnapped me during the trial.
“Kill her!” Hank bellowed.
The tall man nodded and lifted a pistol. I threw myself toward the foot of the bed and turned as a gunshot sounded. The room became a barrage of noise as I looked down the sights and fired three times at the tall man’s chest.
His body jerked and he stumbled. He fell onto his back and didn’t move. I got to my feet and turned toward Hank. He was crouched in between the nightstand and the bed, blood still dripping from his face.
“You have been tried by a court of law,” I said. “But it did not carry out justice to completion. Now there is only one thing left to do.”
“No, wait—”
Hank lunged forward and grabbed my ankle, throwing me to the side. I lost my balance and fell. Hank was faster than he looked and was on top of me before I could get to my feet. He hit me in the face, and the pain paralyzed me momentarily.
His face grew pale, his eyes glowed, and he bared his teeth at me. “Die!”
I couldn’t see—it was just pain and a blur of blood and fists. Kicking up with my knee, I connected with something and Hank grunted and rolled off me. I took the chance—it could be my only chance. I groped for my gun. When I couldn’t find it, I panicked.
I was on my knees and Hank grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. My vision cleared. I balled my fist and punched him as hard as I could in the throat. I felt his windpipe collapse and he gasped. I followed it up with my other fist and hit him again in the throat, remembering what my kickboxing instructor had said: “You can’t do anything if you can’t breathe.”
Hank doubled over, clutching his throat. I stood up, panting, and looked for my gun. I found it under the bed. Holding it with both hands, I pointed it at the dying man. He was on his back making gurgling sounds, and his eyes looked like two glowing embers. They were full of hate, and rested on me.
My body shivered as Hank Williams took his last breath. It sounded like someone trying to suck in air through a straw. His body went limp and I stood over him for what seemed like a long time. I was not going to be like one of those girls in the movies who assumed the bad guy was dead only to have him come back and kill them.
Leaning over, I felt for a pulse.
Hank Williams was dead.
Looking around the room, I walked over to the tall man who was on his back, breathing hard. I pulled the trigger and put one bullet through his heart. The room smelled like gunpowder and sweat. I wanted to throw up, but I held it down.
Leaving the room, I put my back to the wall and slid down to a sitting position. All the emotions of what just happened hit me full force. I didn’t cry, but a groan came from deep in my soul.
What had I done? All the anger buried deep inside me was gone, and the coldness scared me.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
BEFORE THE SWEAT HAD dried on my face, I’d called Detective Monroe. I told him that there’d been a break-in at Mandy’s, two men were dead, and one of them was Hank Williams.
I went back and stood in the doorway to my room. Blood was soaked into the carpet and the tall man in the middle of the floor stared up with soulless eyes. This time I couldn’t hold it in. I bent over and threw up in the hallway.
#
TWENTY-FIVE MINUTES LATER, the detectives and policemen found me curled up on the couch in a daze.
“They’re upstairs,” I whispered.
Detective Ross ran up the stairs two at a time. I could see his profile as he looked in the room. Revulsion flooded his face, and then he entered.
Detective Monroe stayed beside me. He didn’t say a word, but I could see it in his eyes: pity. He knew I’d been through hell, and he wanted to help.
I’d already gone through an abridged version of the story in my mind. As an attorney, I knew what I could tell them and what I had to keep to myself. But I was too weak to tell them anything.
“Can I give you my testimony later?” I said in a thin voice. My eyes could barely stay open.
He took a throw blanket from the end of the couch and settled it over me. As it collapsed around my shoulders, I completely relaxed. I barely even heard him say, “Of course.”
I closed my eyes and fell asleep.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
I WOKE TO SEE Mandy’s loving face above mine. With a gasp, I threw my arms around her shoulders and squeezed her as hard as I could. Tears silently streamed down my cheeks. My face was so bruised that even the tears hurt.
“There, there, baby,” she said, her voice cracking. “You’re okay now. Everything’s going to be fine.” They were the same words I’d said to Angela not twelve hours earlier.
I sat up and then winced. My rib felt cracked, and it hurt to move.
“Do you need to see a doctor?” Mandy asked, wide-eyed with concern.
“No.” I groaned. “I don’t want to move.”
Their living room was swarming with cops and forensic techs. Monroe sat in the lounge chair across from me, writing his notes. Ross was in the kitchen, drinking coffee with Rick.
“I think it’s time we heard that story,” Monroe said.
I told them every truth I could. I left out the part about following Hannah—I said that after I left their office, I went to the bed-and-breakfast where I was staying. Then, after I texted Mandy, I came straight here.
“Rick says you silenced a security breach just as Hank arrived.” Monroe eyed me with one eyebrow raised.
“I thought it was just a bird hitting the window. The alarms go off sometimes when that happens.”
Monroe nodded and urged me on. I told them, in the most sparse language possible, how Hank had attacked me in the bedroom, but I’d had a gun. And then this tall man showed up, and I’d shot him several times. And then I went into more detail recounting how Hank had tried to kill me with a knife, but I got a deathblow in before he had the chance.
Mandy’s face was horror-stricken. No doubt it mirrored mine.
Ross, who had been listening from the kitchen, finally entered. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with that, but you handled it well.” He eyed me strangely. “You’ve had a lot of blood on your hands in the past twelve hours.”
I looked away. There was no need to remind me of something that would haunt me for the rest of my life. Did he suspect something?
“You’ve silenced a very evil man, Sarah Steele. He deserved what he got. A woman named Heather Dade came to the office yesterday,” Monroe said. I perked up at the familiar name. “She told us that she was a friend of yours, and that you wanted her to testify against Hank Williams. Then she went on to tell us everything he’d done to her as a child.” He shook his head. “He’s been a monster for a long time—we just didn’t know it.”
Mandy hugged me again, clutching me as if she’d never let go. I was so glad Heather had come forward. Now she might feel some peace after all these years.
“Well,” Monroe snapped his notebook shut, “I have good news for you. Our boys caught up with Glen Williams at the airport while you were sleeping. He’s in jail now. If the DNA is a match, he’ll be going away for a very long time.”
