RIPE FOR VENGEANCE

by Wendy Tyson

  “Barbara?”

  “Yes. She was at the school with Harriet that day.”

  “I have to go, Clover. Please call Denver and ask him to meet me at the hospital as soon as possible.”

  “Megan, are you okay?”

  “Just ask him.” Megan hung up. “Thank you!”

  Barbara. With a sudden blast of insight, Megan realized Dr. Star hadn’t had to break confidentiality. If someone saw Bibi with Dillon at the school last Friday, they would have witnessed the special bond developing between the two. Barbara was there. She was at the café later. What would it have taken to drop a few lithium tablets in Bibi’s tea? Clover and Emily had admitted the café had been crowded.

  Barbara. The woman whose husband was a cheat—and, if Martine was to be believed, a gambler. The woman who hated Martine and knew Chase very well—well enough to read the restlessness and excitement on his face. The woman who stood to lose a lot of money if Chase left the company—he was the visionary, he was the one who could pull off another drug, another chance. The woman high enough up in the company to know things weren’t looking good with the FDA. A woman willing to pin murder on a teenage boy. A woman sociopathic enough to risk killing an eighty-five-year-old woman if it meant getting away with murder.

  Martine had suspected her. That’s why she broke into Harriet’s office to steal the FDA papers. She wanted proof that things with the company were not good. Martine had been sleeping with Chase. She knew he was leaving—or she suspected it based on his demeanor.

  She thought Jatin was the killer, but she realized soon enough it wasn’t him. He wanted the money, sure, but Barbara needed the money.

  Megan climbed out of the vehicle and into the rain. She reached back into the truck and felt for her umbrella. That’s when she felt cold metal against her forehead.

  “Get back in the truck,” Xavier said. “And maybe you’ll live.”

  Thirty-Two

  Megan slid into the truck. She had no choice. He had a gun and she had nothing. Her phone was still in her hand. She pressed the home button and tried without seeing the screen to activate the emergency call. It didn’t work—she needed to get past security.

  “Keys.”

  Megan handed Xavier the keys. He took them with a gentleness that surprised her.

  “Lock your door.” Xavier didn’t bother with his seat belt. He started the truck and backed out of the spot.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Back to where it all began.”

  Xavier glanced at her. Megan saw darkly shadowed eyes and pale skin. His normal insouciance seemed to be replaced with a malicious sense of resignation. She felt like he didn’t want to be here, but he was, and he was too far gone to turn back.

  Megan tried to manipulate her phone, which was in her right hand under the umbrella she’d been holding. “I thought for sure it was Barbara.”

  “Yeah, well, you thought right.”

  Surprised, Megan said, “She killed Chase?”

  “And Martine.” He stared straight ahead, hands gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled fervor. “And now maybe you.”

  “Why are you helping her?”

  It was Xavier’s turn to look surprised. “She’s my friend.”

  Megan joked with Denver about having the kind of friend who would help you hide the bodies. She never meant it. Apparently, this group did.

  “Seems above and beyond the call of friendship.”

  “It was my fault to begin with.”

  “How so?” Megan had used the thumb pad to get into her phone. She pictured the icons on the screen and tapped where she hoped the phone icon would be. She kept tapping, hoping like hell she was calling 911 or Denver or Clover—any of the useful numbers she’d called in the last twenty-four hours. The motel manager, for instance, would be useless.

  “I tipped Chase off to the opportunity with Morey.”

  “Morey?”

  “Moreyville Pharma Corp. The pharmaceutical company he was supposed to meet with to pitch his new idea. The idea no one knew he had. Except Barbara and Martine.”

  Megan considered this new information. “An idea for a new drug?”

  “Right. Our agreements with BOLD prevent us from using anything we learn at BOLD elsewhere. Standard noncompete. They don’t prevent us from leaving and developing a brand new drug elsewhere.” Xavier put on the turn signal and made a left. “Pain management. That was Chase’s newest passion. Something to relieve things like arthritis pain without the side effects other drugs have had. Had he stayed and developed the drug at BOLD, it could have salvaged the company.”

  “And your stock options.” Megan shifted in her seat, moving her hand under the umbrella. “Had Chase not shared his new idea with anyone, he could have left and no one had been the wiser.”

  Xavier nodded. “I told him Morey was recruiting, thinking we could go as a team if the FDA bailed on our latest drug. I didn’t know about this new project. In a moment of weakness, he shared his idea with Barbara. Neither of us realized just how bad things were for her. We’re her friends. We should have known.”

  Xavier pulled along Mulberry Street, which led to Lyle Lake State Park.

  Back to where it all started.

  Xavier was talking with the relief of someone who’d been keeping things in for a long time. Megan wanted to glance down at her phone, but she couldn’t risk tipping him off. She hoped like hell she had called someone. She needed to keep him talking. Once they were deep into the park, she’d have no recourse, and maybe no cell reception.

  Megan said, “Barbara killed Chase to prevent him from leaving.”

  Xavier’s look was sharp and full of reproach. “Barbara tried to reason with him. He wouldn’t listen. Things got out of hand. She didn’t mean to hurt him.”

  “She let a young boy take the blame.”

  “She let the chips fall where they may. This has been hell for her. Chase was her friend.”

  Megan didn’t argue. His moral reasoning seemed so flawed, but she was afraid to incite him further.

  “Where are we going?”

  Xavier didn’t answer. He pulled into the park entrance, past the self-service kiosk, and down a wooded drive. The rain had given way to a steady, steely drizzle.

  Megan thought about the truck. What tools were inside? A flashlight. The umbrella she was still holding. There was a utility knife in the glove compartment. A dog leash. She knew this park better than they did. If she could get out and run, she might be okay.

  After what felt like miles, Xavier pulled into a small clearing along the drive. He shoved the truck into four-wheel drive and drove over the grass, onto an old logging path. He stopped when the truck was hidden in the trees.

  “Get out.”

  Megan pretended to fumble while climbing out of the truck. She managed to stick her phone in the pocket of her jeans. Frantically she searched for something, anything, she could grab, but Xavier was pulling on her arm.

  “Now.”

  Megan obeyed. Xavier pulled her another fifty feet, until they reached a small tent in the woods. It was a basic camping style tent, probably the one they had purchased for the Pioneer Village outing.

  Xavier pushed Megan from behind. “Get in.” Megan refused, but Xavier placed the gun barrel against her back. “Now.”

  Megan crawled inside the tent. Her heart was racing, her breathing came in ragged spurts. As scared as she was, she felt an odd sense of calm. These were Denver’s friends. Or had been. Perhaps in their twisted world that meant something.

  It hadn’t meant anything for Chase. Or Martine. But it was an angle she could try.

  The inside of the tent was dark. It took Megan a moment to realize they were alone. “Where’s Barbara?”

  “She’s not here.”

  “I don’t understand.”


  “She’s coming. With a surprise. I thought between you and me, we could fix this.” He zippered up the tent.

  “How exactly would we do that?”

  “I’d like to count on your cooperation. For example, if someone close to the Winsome Chief of Police called and said she thought the boy was guilty, she could sway his thinking. And then if the police happened to search her barn, where perhaps the boy was hiding out, and found a bloody remnant from Martine’s house, that could also sway the police.”

  With dawning horror, Megan said, “You were the ones in my barn! You planted the wrapper and the comic book so we’d think Dillon had been there.”

  Xavier’s smile was one of sadness rather than triumph. “What a god-awful mess this has become. I think we all just want it to be over.” He clapped one hand against his thigh while holding the gun toward Megan. “We just need the police to believe the boy did it. He’ll be admitted to a psychiatric hospital for life, somewhere he should probably be anyway.” His eyes took on a menacing quality. “And if you should ever come forward…Denver, your grandmother…I think we’ve proven ourselves capable of extreme measures.”

  Megan heard the distant sounds of an engine. She hoped it was the police and that somehow her phone had connected to help. Her hopes were dashed when Xavier smiled, head cocked toward the sound.

  “There she is now.”

  “You’re supposed to be Denver’s friend.” Megan nearly spat out the words. “What kind of friend does this?”

  “Denver left us years ago. He had the chance to go in with us. He chose a different path.”

  There was a commotion outside the tent. With one eye on her and the gun still cocked, Xavier unzipped the opening. Barbara crawled through, but she wasn’t alone.

  Thirty-Three

  “You were kidnapped,” Megan said, awed at her own lack of vision. “You didn’t run away.”

  “She’s a smart one.” Barbara wore hiking pants and a sleeveless shirt. Her slender, muscular arms bulged as she pulled Dillon into the tent with her. She carried a small pistol down by her side. “What a pain in the ass this kid is.”

  Dillon’s face was completely blank. He plodded along, his large frame bulky in the small tent. Megan studied him. He had a fresh break-out on his face, and his hands were shaking. Other than that he seemed to be okay. He’d been gone for more than twenty-four hours. That was twenty-four hours without his meds. She hoped he could cope.

  She hoped they could both cope.

  “Xavier says you want me to play along with your charade and blame Dillon. Why should I?”

  Barbara knelt on the ground, her pistol aimed at Dillon. “Because you don’t want to die.”

  “Why not just leave me out of it? Plant your evidence and frame Dillon. I would have been none the wiser.”

  Xavier said, “That would have been great except for Martine. You kept texting her, meeting with her. We didn’t know how much you knew.” He cocked a shoulder toward Dillon. “And then your grandmother and this kid. What was that about?”

  “You were afraid they’d gotten too close. That Dillon shared things with her that would lead authorities to you. So you poisoned her.” With dawning horror, Megan realized the dose was meant to permanently harm or kill Bibi. Barbara was a scientist. She could have gotten the medicine from the school if their med procedures really were lax, or she could have gotten it through her own pharmaceutical connections. One way or another, she would have been aware of the overdose’s effects on the nervous system—and the risks the drug presented to an elderly woman.

  Megan felt rage rush through her veins, swell her chest. These people could have killed Bibi as carelessly as they’d swat a fly or step on an anthill.

  “You could have killed my grandmother,” Megan said.

  Barbara nodded. “We could have, but she’s still alive.” Her ponytail swung with her head, forming an arc. “So now your only choice is to become one of us.”

  The threat hung there, as potent as if she’d said it aloud.

  Megan said, “And Dillon?”

  Barbara was silent, but in that flash of a second, Megan saw regret in her eyes. Regret because they planned to kill him too. Maybe both of them.

  Plant evidence connecting him to two murders. Have him die while killing a third person—murder suicide, perhaps. No more evidence. Smart.

  “I’m assuming you have Martine’s phone? That you’re going to plant that with Dillon as well?”

  Barbara pulled a phone out of her pocket. “See, you are smart.” She glanced around the tent. “We don’t have a lot of time. Here’s what we’re going to do since I no longer trust you to cooperate. Dillon, you’re going to drag Megan out by the lake. You need to make it look real. You can try to drown her or hit her with a stone…something believable. Megan, you’re going to play along.”

  Megan knew once they got out there and staged a struggle, it would be bye-bye for both of them.

  “Get up.” Xavier pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go.”

  Barbara was pushing Dillon back out of the tent. Megan tried to catch his eye, but the boy was staring down at the ground. His gaze flicked toward her, but only for a second, before aiming at the ground again.

  That’s when Megan saw it. The rock they must have used to hammer in the tent spikes. It was holding back part of the tent rain hood now. Dillon’s eyes flicked toward it, and Megan realized he’d seen it too.

  Barbara shoved Dillon onto the ground outside of the tent. She was a wiry woman, but athletic and strong. Xavier was behind Megan, urging her out. The rain had begun again in earnest this time. As Megan bent down to go through the tent opening, her phone started to ring. Her initial feeling was disappointment—her attempts to call someone had been unsuccessful—but the sound seemed to catch Xavier off guard.

  After that, everything happened quickly.

  Megan saw Dillon reach for Barbara’s ponytail. He yanked hard and she yelled, causing Xavier to turn and lose his balance. Megan grabbed the stone and flew on top of Xavier, pounding him in the head. He held on to the gun, but his arm was pinned under Megan. She sat on it, bending his arm backward. He moaned and dropped the gun.

  “Stop.” Barbara’s voice was an angry whisper. “Get off of him or I kill this kid.”

  Barbara had Dillon in a headlock, pistol aimed at his head. Dillon’s eyes were dancing back and forth widely. At first Megan thought it was terror, only he seemed to be motioning toward the trees on either side of the tent.

  Trying to alert her to something or someone.

  Or asking her to pretend.

  Megan stared beyond Barbara, into the trees. She opened her mouth slightly, feigning relief and surprise. Dillon’s eyes stopped moving.

  Barbara turned slightly in the direction of Megan’s stare. Xavier was bleeding profusely from his head and neck where Megan had attacked him with the stone. He’d dropped the gun, and Megan snatched it. She was still sitting on him. She dug her butt into Xavier, incapacitating him as much as possible, and raised the gun toward Barbara’s head just as Dillon kicked Barbara behind the knees. Barbara fell and he grabbed her hand, trying to wrestle the gun free.

  Megan shot at the tree in the distance. The shot reverberated up her arm, throwing her off balance, but the sound was enough to startle Barbara. She was tall and strong, but Dillon was taller and stronger. He pulled the gun from her grasp and forced Barbara onto the ground. Megan motioned for him to come to her.

  He handed Megan the pistol.

  “There’s rope in her bag,” he said, pointing to a knapsack under the tent’s small rainfly. “She was going to use that to…”

  “It’s okay, Dillon. Get it out and let’s tie them up.”

  Dillon worked quickly. He secured Barbara to a tree and tied Xavier’s legs and arms together. Megan was relieved to see they had reception. She called King and 911. Denve
r had been the one trying to reach her, and she called him as well.

  “Let Eloise know Dillon is safe.”

  “I will. Megs, I’ll get there as soon as I can. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “We’ll be fine.”

  Megan didn’t want to waste battery, so she sat quietly by Dillon while they waited, his hand in hers, each holding a gun on the miscreants.

  Eventually, Megan said, “I know two ladies who are going to be so happy to see you.”

  Dillon gave her a tentative smile. “I heard about Mrs. Birch. Is she okay?”

  “She’ll be better knowing you’re safe.”

  Sirens wailed in the distance. After a few moments, he said hesitantly, “Think I can stay over some time? I can help with the animals, earn my keep.”

  “Of course.” Megan squeezed his hand. “You’re welcome any time.

  Thirty-Four

  Camilla snuggled in the hay next to Heidi. Her pink snout snuffled around the ground for more apples, but Bibi’s basket was empty. The pig settled for a belly rub from Dillon, resting her head against this thigh.

  “You know,” Megan said, looking at Dillon, “Camilla was bred to be a pet, not a farm animal. She’d much rather be indoors, sleeping on a bed with her person.”

  “I know,” Dillon said. “She’s so cute.” He glanced up at Megan. “I think she’s happy.”

  “You’re really good with her. I think she’s happiest with you.”

  Dillon beamed.

  “Would you like to have her?”

  Dillon didn’t say anything for a moment. They’d learned that he would become quiet with any sort of emotional turbulence, positive or negative. Megan glanced back at Eloise, who was standing by the gate of the enclosure looking in. They’d discussed this beforehand, and Eloise had agreed that Camilla would be good for Dillon. The ordeal with Barbara and Xavier had set him back, but now that it was a few weeks behind them, he had some stability in his life, and he was making rapid gains.

  “I sure would love to have her,” Dillon said, staring down at the pig. “If you really mean it.”