Detective Dyl said, “Leo, walk toward me.”
I slid from the bed, righting my bedraggled dress and realized I was barefoot. During my struggle, my heels must’ve fallen off. I glimpsed the area and decided to leave them.
“Stop!” Detective Dyl shouted. “Henry, stop whatever it is that you’re doing.”
“I’m just getting my glasses.”
I executed a half turn and watched Henry fingering his glasses. He showed them to the detective. “May I put them on?”
Detective Dyl made no reply. “Leo, come forward.”
Suddenly mauled from behind, the sharp tip of Henry’s jackknife pierced my neck. “I didn’t want this to happen.” He sounded so laden. “Back away, Dyl.”
Chapter 51
“I got you this time, boy.” Malice radiated from the detective. “Playtime is over.”
“Try me, you pig. I’ll cut her jugular. She’ll be dead in minutes.”
The prick of the blade punctured skin, blood leaked along my throat.
Henry murmured in my ear— “I’m not going to kill you. Not yet.” –the exact words from a year ago. Stars ruptured my brain. Light headed, my vision blurred.
The light began to fade as Detective Dyl shied away.
“Further, Dyl, go back further.” Henry felt like a brick wall, holding onto me. “You too, Dad. Back up or I’ll slice her throat in half.”
His arm bound my body while the knife bit my neck. We hedged past the threshold. I heard a click and everything went black, Dyl switched off his flashlight, temporarily blinding us. Relaxing his garrote hold, I felt his hand on my back. Henry launched me in the direction of his father and the detective.
“Henry!” Ethan yelled.
My arms reflexively splayed just as my kneecaps struck the floor, a pair of hands softened my fall. Dyl hauled me upright as Henry escaped into the hallway. The detective’s flashlight clicked on. “Stay here.”
A beam of light knocked up and down as he took off after Ethan and Henry. “No way.” I dashed into the bedroom and snatched Henry’s heavy duty flashlight.
In stocking feet, I hurried toward the staircase. Strident bickering echoed from the upper level. I scuffed the pads of my feet on the stairs to the attic. The door was slightly ajar and subtle light streaked the stairwell. Don’t breathe, don’t breathe, don’t make a sound. My heart fluttered and my chest hurt.
Henry’s sobering cry trickled to my ears. “I had to do it! I had too! He made me!”
“Henry,” Ethan’s voice. “Think about what you’re saying. We talked about this.”
“Let the boy speak.” Detective Dyl sounded fierce. “When Lily came to me for a restraining order for Henry, it was the best and the worst day of my life. But you already know that, don’t you, Ethan?
Ethan James said, “Just slit my throat and be done with it.”
Did I hear Lily? He said Lily.
“Leo, I know you’re standing there.”
I breathed in and held it.
“Come in,” Detective Dyl ordered.
Frozen with fear, I couldn’t move. Footsteps, and then the door to the attic opened. An inky figure framed the doorway. “Get in here where I can keep an eye on you.”
I stepped on creaky floorboards. Henry’s heavy duty flashlight slipped from my numb fingers. It clunked to the wood and united with an eerie glow. Elongated shadows banded the walls. Henry held his father in a headlock touting a curved, unique dagger, beads of blood necklaced his throat. Detective Dyl targeted them with his flashlight in one hand and his Glock in the other.
My eyes strayed to Ethan, his face gnarled in distress, balled hands hung from his shoulders.
“Leo, over there.” Detective Dyl tweaked his head, not taking his eyes off his prey. “Toward the window.”
My stride inept and frightened, I routed to the circular stained glass window.
“Now what?” Henry’s voice scraped from the bottom of his diaphragm. “If you don’t kill him, I will.”
Instead of answering, Detective Dyl repositioned himself around the room. His back blocked the doorway. “Leo, I cautioned you to stay away from Henry James?” he said. “You kept snooping, asking questions, wanting answers.”
Henry sounded wacked. “This is all your fault.” His hand trembled, grazing Ethan’s throat.
“Henry. Son. I love you. Don’t do anything rash.” Ethan begged for his life. “I’ve always helped you. Didn’t I?”
“You never loved me like a son. You used me like an incestuous prick.” Henry was dissolving. “You abusive son-of-a-bitch!”
My teeth crunched. Why did I feel a tinge of regret for Henry?
“Not true, Henry.” Ethan’s scarlet face looked injured. He talked through the side of his mouth. “You’re blaming the wrong man. It’s Dyl that’s messing with your head. He’s the man who will take away our freedom. You can still have Leo, son.”
Henry’s insufferable eyes darted to me. “I’m not your son. You used me. You used me like…like—”
“Calm down, Henry. I was biding my time,” Detective Dyl placated. “Waiting for you to make the right decision. Give yourself up, without any more bloodshed. Give me Ethan James, your abusive father.”
“Don’t listen to him, son.” Ethan stood like a stone statue. “I got you cleared from being prosecuted for that girl’s murder, remember? I can take care of this too. Just let me go.”
“Like you took care of your skank.” Henry’s eyes looked wild, peering over his father’s shoulder. “And the drug dealers.”
“Thank you, Henry.” Hatred resounded from Detective Dyl. “Not precisely accurate. I doubt Ethan could’ve run that fast to catch up to David Galbraith on Tarpon Road. Your hand is all over that one.”
“I had to. He’d kill me if I didn’t.”
Detective Mark Dyl’s bottom lip stiffened. “With a dagger to his throat, I think your father is ready to confess. Aren’t you, Ethan?”
“Lily was screwing you behind my back.” Ethan’s body sucked in on itself. “Lily and I used to make love. Right there—”—only his eyes indicated the attic bedroom—“How does that make you feel, Dyl?”
Puzzled, I looked from the squeamish Ethan to Detective Dyl. “What’s going on? I…I don’t understand,” I asked finding my tongue.
“I advised Lily to leave for a while.” Dyl kept talking to Ethan. “She was panicking about everything.” His face drooped into a canopy of grief. “I should’ve protected her better.” Like being blasted with a gust his entire body quaked. “I thought she was talking about Henry, but it was you, Ethan, she called you a slimy copper-headed snake.” Finally he looked at me. “Ethan murdered Lily.”
Beware of the copper-headed snake? It threatens to strike. The magnitude of his statement felled my legs. Mom was warning me in her journal.
“He made me,” Henry said.”He made me watch.”
“She…was leaving me. I—” Ethan whimpered.
“I knew Henry was bat shit crazy,” Detective Dyl severed Ethan’s words. “But you, Ethan, you are the inherent seed. Like father, like son. For the past year, you’ve been expecting me to take Henry in.”
“If I’m a psycho,” Henry yelled, “it’s because of him.” He tightened the grip on Ethan’s throat pushing him. The dagger cut a yawning gap.
“I’m done playing pat-a-cake,” expressed a defiant Detective Dyl. “Henry, either slit your father’s throat and save the tax payers a ton of money on a trial, or drop the dagger and come with me.”
“Henry.” Ethan inched his hand up to grasp Henry’s wrist. “Don’t listen to him. He’ll shoot you dead. Especially after I tell him how Lily begged. She wanted me not you Dyl—Me—She groaned in ecstasy until I stabbed her in the heart—”
“Shut up!” The Detective heaved a groaning shout.
“Why, you’re going to kill me anyway,” Ethan said. “See, Henry. See how he’s shaking.”
“I’m warning you, Ethan.” Dyl pulled back the trigge
r on the gun.
Ethan yanked Henry’s arm. In a swift fluent feat, he filched the dagger and lanced it. A discharge of a miss-fired gunshot echoed along with my blood-curdling scream.
Shockingly, buried deep into Detective Dyl’s stomach—the dagger. His flashlight rolled to the floor and his hand came up to grip the blade’s hilt. The Glock teetered on his fingertips as he strived to remain conscious.
Ethan barreled into the detective stealing the piece. “Who’s in control now, Dyl?” An expression of contaminated greed swelled Ethan’s mouth.
Detective Dyl dropped to his knees. And seeking me with excruciating eyes, he gasped, “Run—”
Ethan kicked the detective to the floor. My body seized watching blood creep over the floor around the detective; my fingers groped the wall for support, standing.
“Where do you think you’re going my dear?” Ethan’s eyelids reduced to mere slits.
“She’s mine.” Henry rushed toward me.
Ethan swirled, pointing the gun at his son. “Henry, Henry.” He backpedaled to keep both of us in his sight. “I wish this could end differently. Your savage temper not only killed Lillian Nelson, those drug dealers, the good detective here, and now Leo.”
“You’re setting me up?” Henry’s brow tightened, looking astounded. “I’ll tell them everything. You’re going down with me.”
“Sorry, Henry, I can’t keep saving you. I’ll put on a good show. Devastated as I tell the police how mentally unstable you’ve been. Martha will back me up. There’ll read about your past in the police reports. And thanks for this.” He wiped trailing blood from his neck where Henry had cut him. “It validates my testimony. My own son threatened to kill me.”
“You go to hell.” His eyes threatened as he stepped toward his father.
“No doubt. But you first…son.” Impervious and with quick precision, Ethan plowed the gun beneath Henry’s jawline and pulled the trigger.
Henry’s face exploded.
I shrieked, screening my eyes.
Chapter 52
“I’m sorry, Leo.” Ethan revolved toward me. “I have to make this quick. Over the years forensics has upped their game. It’s vital to substantiate your time of death within the hour.” He then retracted a few steps.
“You filthy murderer!”—hysterical, choppy breathing—“You killed your own son!”
“He was an encumbering burden.” A pang twisted his cultured face. “I truly loved Lily. She was everything. Even after I begged like a damn fool. She had me on my knees like a smutty animal. She had the gall to laugh.” A patina of moisture formed over his face. “She knew too much. My past…How dare she…how dare she.” He winked, focusing on me and waved the gun. “Now stand up.”
“No!”
He pitched toward me. Fingers knotted into my hair, lugging me to my feet. “You shouldn’t have poked your nose into my business. This isn’t going to end well for you.” He twisted the roots of my hair as I repressed the urge to whimper in pain. “You’re going to fly out that window behind you. Understand?”
My eyes looped around, utterly frigged for an escape.
“I know what you’re thinking and it’s not going to happen.” The shaft of the gun dented my neck. Recoiling, I waited for the bullet to shred my insides. We shifted from the circular stained glass and using his elbow like a battering ram, he shattered the smaller window.
“I won’t go down without a fight.” I sounded braver than I felt, and kicked my leg catching him in the shin.
“You want to do this the hard way?” The malevolent man pressed my forehead into his fire breathing mug and spittle flew from his barred teeth. He whacked me in the face with the butt of the gun, igniting starbursts.
Desperate, I tried not to pass out or I’d be done for. Fraught with fear, shards of glass cut into my fingers as I sustained myself on the window frame.
“Henry’s known in the precinct for his fiery temper.” Glass crinkled underfoot as he stepped and shoved me. “Everyone will believe he went nuts, punching you in the face and throwing you out the window.” His mouth curled in satisfaction. “I won’t be needing your cooperation after all.”
For a transitory second, sprinting footsteps startled Ethan. Swiveling toward the sound, he was hit by a flying object. I caught a glimpse of a pale head of hair as two men crashed to the floor. Gunfire discharged and Becket’s body jerked, though, he continued to wrestle for the Glock. While the men grunted and groaned, tussling side to side, my vision was lured to the window by a conflagration of police cars.
Becket strained with a slight advantage, pinning Ethan. Thick brushstrokes of blood painted the floorboards. I knew Becket had been stabbed, he survived on pure adrenaline.
Ethan pistol cuffed Becket in the face, spooling him sideways. It provided Ethan the ability to wobble upward, targeting Becket with the gun.
Provoked into action, I hopped onto Ethan’s back, lassoing his neck with my arms, foiling his aim. The gun had misfired, affording Becket ample time to achieve his feet. He implemented an uppercut to Ethan’s unprotected jaw. The deed reeled both of us backwards and the gun flipped from Ethan’s fingers.
My backside crashed into the magnificent window, smashing panes of prismatic glass. I fell, bashing into the sturdy casement and into the midst of showering glass. Becket managed to circle my waist and hurtled me from harm’s way.
Though, the minor fraction caught Becket unaware as Ethan attacked him.
I lay sprawled in a repugnant pool of Henry and Detective Dyl’s blood. My belly spazzed, initiating my gagging reflux.
In a battle of fists, their muscles convulsed as Becket and Ethan scuffled over glass shavings. Their convoluted bodies came dangerously close to the window. As if reading my mind, Ethan unshackled his arms from Becket and propelled him over the casement.
“Becket, watch out!”
Becket dipped backwards, teetering on the ledge.
Ethan instigated one last deadly strike.
Becket gained equilibrium jetting sideways just as Ethan pounced. He tripped and sailed over the sill. Becket plunged, cinching his wrist. Ethan dangled in the air with Becket as his lifeline.
“You can’t save me, kid, nobody can save me,” Ethan said.
“Hold. On.” Becket’s jaw clenched as blinding pain etched across his face from the exertion. “Give me your other hand.”
“Let me fall. I’d rather die here than in prison.”
I leaned over the broken ledge to help as spotlights bathed us from below.
Becket forced a plea, “Leo, get out of here.”
I stepped back and heard a definitive crack. Staring upward an immense hunk of glass weaved in the breeze. “The glass is falling!” Encaging my arms around Becket’s waist, I tugged with every ounce of contained energy.
“No-o-o—” Becket wailed.
We jolted backwards as a sheet of glass detached from their bindings, slicing the air like a guillotine. A dynamite of pieces shattered around us.
Like someone had cut the strings on the marionette, Becket’s body slumped to the floor. He looked like a bloodied angel, fibers of his sweater permeated red. “Becket—” I fell to my knees leaning over him. His eyes were closed. I stripped a lock of hair that covered his face. Beads of sweat glistened as it trickled down the sides of his face. “Becket, please don’t be dead, please—”
“I’m not dead. I hurt like a mother…” Extracting a wheeze, his eyelids flickered open.
“How…?” I asked.
“You told me. Henry was…bringing you here,”—gasping for breath—“Sorry, it took me so long, but—”
Placing my fingertips to his mouth, I said, “Shush, stop talking, save your strength. The police are here.” There was a barrage of pounding boots scaling the flights of stairs.
***
My bedroom was saturated in light when I woke to find Nona dozing on the chair. I whispered to rouse her, “Hey.”
Her eyelashes fanned open. “Hey, Leo.” Sle
epy, looking drunk, she staggered and slid next to me on the bed. “Your dad said you didn’t get home until the wee hours of the morning. I wanted to wake you up because this is all freakin’ me out. I have so many of questions.” She took a breath. “Your poor face is all black and blue.”
My elbows propped on the mattress and chased sleep from my eyes, only to feel the sting of my cheekbone where Ethan hit me. “Yes, lots of questions. But the people who knew all the answers died last night.” I sat straighter, then fell into Nona.
Like a phenom comforter, she drew me to her chest. “I heard that Becket’s in the hospital. He was shot in the shoulder.” Her head moved from side to side while tsking. “After Hen… Henry stabbed Becket, he refused anyone’s help. Then airhead Marcy was screaming and crying like she was the one bleeding.” Nona tried to diminish the fiasco by circling her hands to her throat, imitating a choke hold. “The teachers were out of their minds. Then Becket took off like a bat out of hell. He wouldn’t even let Reggie come with him.”
“I went to see him before coming home.” Remembering the sight, it triggered a smart behind my eyes. “He lost a lot of blood. And then…Detective Dyl…Henry.”
Nona tightened her hold and I bawled like a baby.
After she left and like a girl on fire, I hunted for my embroidered box. Lifting the lid, I stared at the array of drugs, tempted to forget the past. I fingered the tiny packet Henry had given me less than a month ago. My discipline had been tested. Lacking indecisiveness, I walked to the bathroom and dumped them into the toilet bowl and flushed.
***
Ordered into police headquarters, the chair had a permanent dent from my butt. “I told you everything last night at the hospital.” And I was in a hurry to get to the hospital to visit Becket; I didn’t want to be put on the rack again. “I don’t know what more you want from me.”
“Sorry, Leo.” Officer Simmons’s looked at me with lamenting, red, spider veined eyes. She shuffled paperwork. “We’re putting together the pieces. Detective Dyl is…was…one of our finest. I was able to speak with him before he died.” Distressed, she coughed clearing her throat. “He explained in detail. No need to rehash the scene at the mansion.”
Don't Forget to Breathe Page 24
