SAY YOU LOVE ME (Eva Rae Thomas Mystery Book 4)

by Willow Rose

  Meanwhile, everything was chaos in the small theater. People were still hammering on the doors, screaming for help. Others were on their phones, calling their loved ones, some saying goodbye, telling them how much they loved them, crying.

  “What did he say? What did he tell you?” Melanie said, her voice shrill.

  I swallowed the knot growing in my throat. I tried hard to not think about my own children and the fact that I might never see them again if this bomb went off before the help arrived.

  It was difficult not to.

  “He said that you need to remain calm.”

  “Calm? Calm?” she almost screamed. “How am I supposed to remain calm with a bomb strapped to my body?”

  David, who was keeping a close eye on the blood pressure monitor, sent me a concerned look. I had to calm her down. We didn’t know how far up her blood pressure had to go for the bomb to go off, but my guess was that she was walking a thin line. The Leech wanted the bomb to go off, so he’d have set it at a reachable level, to make sure it went off as soon as she got agitated enough when realizing what was going on.

  “There’s a blood pressure monitor keeping an eye on you, and once it reaches a certain level, we think it’ll set the bomb off,” I said, using the calmest voice possible.

  In reality, I wanted to slap her and shake her, but that wouldn’t be the best way to do things. If I wasn’t calm, she wouldn’t be either. Yet my heart beat so fast in my chest it was maddening. I focused hard on breathing calmly and speaking in a low and pleasant voice.

  “It WHAT?” she almost screamed.

  “Please,” I said, reaching out for her arm. I really didn’t want to touch her out of fear of setting off the bomb, but I still did it. “Please. You must calm down. Your blood produces a surge of hormones when you’re in a stressful situation. These hormones temporarily increase your blood pressure by causing your heart to beat faster, okay? But the problem is that the faster it beats, the higher the blood pressure gets, the bigger the chance that the bomb goes off. So, we must try and keep you calm. And you need to do your best to remain tranquil. Can you do that for me, Melanie? Please?”

  I looked deeply into her eyes, making sure she had heard me even with the panic going on inside of her, blocking all sense from entering her mind. I couldn’t blame her. There was no escaping this for her. She couldn’t just run away, even if that was her instinct. It was all any of us wanted to do right now. Remaining calm had to take all of her strength. I know it did for me.

  I stroked her hair gently, hoping it would have a calming effect. “We’ve called for help, and hopefully they’ll be here soon,” I said. “Then they can defuse the bomb, and we’ll all get to go home. But it won’t happen if you don’t remain calm, you hear me?”

  Melanie was hyperventilating, and David sent me another concerned look. I grabbed her by the shoulders. “Now, I want you to do as I tell you, okay? I want you to take in a deep breath. Come. Do it like me. Take a deep breath; see how much air you can get in your lungs. Close your eyes and think about something that makes you happy. Imagine yourself lying in a quiet field of grass somewhere. Or in the mountains or maybe the beach? Do you like the beach?”

  She nodded, her eyes still closed.

  “Okay. Imagine you’re there. You’re lying on the sand, breathing in the fresh salty air; you’re reading a book, and you have all the time in the world, okay? Everything is peaceful.”

  It took a few seconds, but then she nodded.

  “All right,” I continued. “Then breathe it all out again, remaining in this same spot of quiet. Peace and quiet.”

  Melanie did as she was told, and my eyes caught David’s. He gave me a faint smile and nodded with a thumbs up. It was working. She was relaxing. In the distance, I could hear sirens, and my own blood pressure seemed to drop a little, while sweat still sprang from my forehead. They were here. It was only a matter of minutes before they’d get the doors open and people out of here.

  “You’re doing really well,” I said. “Really well. Just keep breathing. Just keep breathing. We are so close now. So close.”

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  The sound of the doors being unlocked and then opened was the most soothing sound I could remember hearing. The panicking crowd almost stumbled on top of one another to make it outside, and it didn’t take long before they were all gone. Only David and I remained on the stage with Melanie. I was constantly touching her arm, making her feel calm.

  Then the soldiers entered. Men in thick protective suits, carrying guns, entered the theater. They started to yell at us, and suddenly everything became beyond chaotic again.

  “Get down from there!” they yelled while pointing their guns at us.

  “No, please,” I said.

  “Step away from the bomb NOW!”

  I felt Melanie’s hands begin to shake in mine as she opened her eyes and looked at them approaching us.

  “They’re gonna shoot me,” she mumbled under her breath. Her breathing was getting ragged again, and David got that concerned look back on his face.

  “You don’t understand,” I said addressed to the uniformed soldiers.

  “NOW!”

  I rose to my feet and placed both of my hands above my head to make sure they understood I wasn’t armed.

  “The bomb is attached to …”

  “Get down from the stage, ma’am,” he interrupted me. “We need to clear the room now, so we can defuse the bomb.”

  I glanced at the monitor. It was reaching a new spike. The systolic blood pressure reached a hundred and fifty and counting. This wasn’t good.

  “Please, sir, you need to listen to me …”

  The yelling intensified. Several of the soldiers yelled at us at once, and I could barely hear myself think. All I could hear was my own heartbeat thumping in my ears. I could only imagine what this was doing to Melanie’s heart rate.

  “I’m not gonna say it again; step away from the stage,” the soldier yelled, pointing his gun close to me.

  David grabbed my hand and began to pull at me. I stared at Melanie, who looked at me with pleading eyes.

  “No, don’t go. Please, don’t leave me. Please, I need you …”

  I didn’t want to move. I figured they’d have to shoot me if they wanted me to leave, but David grabbed me by the arm hard and yanked me away from Melanie. She whimpered and reached out her hand for mine. I touched it gently before David pulled me away, and our hands slipped out of one another’s. I was crying heavily as David pulled me away and dragged me out an emergency door. I was crying heavily as first responders approached us.

  “You did what you could,” David said and put his arm around me. I wanted to protest and push him away, but I didn’t do it. Behind us, we heard Melanie scream in distress, and I just waited for that blast, preparing myself for it.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  The theater building remained eerily silent while we waited outside in the parking lot at a safe distance, behind the police barrier. My hands were still shaking as I sat down on the ground. I was worried sick about Melanie, my stomach churning.

  Was she going to survive this?

  We heard her scream again and feared the worst. I closed my eyes and folded my hands while praying.

  Please, let her live. Please, don’t let him have this victory.

  I waited and listened, fighting to calm my nerves and remain at ease.

  The blast never came.

  After a few minutes that felt like hours, one of the soldiers in suits came out of there and told us that the bomb had been defused.

  We were all safe.

  The soldier received a round of applause, even though it probably hadn’t been him who defused it. It didn’t matter. People were relieved. They had survived a situation that they didn’t think they would, and they needed someone to thank. I breathed a deep sigh of relief. David grabbed my arm and helped me get up. He pulled me into a hug, and I didn’t protest. It actually felt kind of nice, and I need
ed it.

  “I thought we were going to die,” he said, half chuckling, half crying. “I thought this was it for us.”

  “Me too,” I said with a deep raspy sigh. “I thought I wasn’t going to see my kids ever again.”

  I still didn’t feel as relieved as the rest of them. I watched as a couple of deputies from the sheriff’s office took Melanie away in handcuffs. What worried me was that most people thought this meant it was all over, while I knew it wasn’t. We had disarmed the bomb, and no one had died.

  This time.

  We still hadn’t found the Leech. We had won this round, yes, but he’d be back for more, with even greater strength. He wasn’t the type to let himself get knocked down by a little resistance. On the contrary. If I had him figured out just a little bit — and I truly believed I had with my many years of profiling experience — then he would only grow stronger; he would only grow nastier.

  “Did you see where Jenkins went?” I asked, wiping away a tear that had escaped my eye.

  David shook his head. “I lost track of him when we got up on stage. But I saw that he was filming before it all went down. After that, I don’t know.”

  “Could he have put Melanie on that stage? Inside the armoire?” I asked. “Was that what he had in his van? Was it her that he picked up at that house by the beach?”

  David shrugged with a deep sigh. “It’s certainly possible.”

  “Did you notice her nails?” I asked.

  He nodded. “They had been pulled out.”

  “The Leech’s trademark.”

  I took a few steps to the side and looked at the small area behind the theater. The white van was gone, and I guessed so was Jenkins. I smiled when thinking that at least now we had Melanie. She would be able to help us find him. Once she told her story, McMillen was bound to start listening to me.

  Chapter Sixty-Six

  “I am gonna KILL her!”

  E.T. grabbed a glass from the counter and threw it against the wall. It shattered, and glass scattered all over the tiles of his kitchen. E.T. growled angrily and removed a pile of papers from the dresser, swiping them to the floor, bringing down pens and a picture frame with it. All of it scattered on the floor, while E.T. raged on.

  In front of him ran the video from inside of the theater on his computer screen. The live broadcast had been a failure. Many had tuned in, expecting great things, but as soon as they realized it wasn’t going to happen, they had been angry. Some had left spiteful comments, and a lot had even unsubscribed.

  She had messed it all up. She was the one to blame.

  The theater seated three hundred people, and he had wanted to take them all in one strike, or at least he hoped for half of them. And now he had ended up with no kills at all — not even the girl.

  “Gosh, I hate you!” he said to the screen as he played it all back and saw her go onto the stage and sit with the girl, calming her down.

  E.T. had saved the live-feed to his computer, and now he was replaying the video over and over again, frustrated, raging about the woman who was supposed to make him look better and not stop him.

  She can’t stop you. She never will. You can’t let her get to you like this.

  But he was far from done yet; that was for sure. She was going to realize that soon, very soon.

  E.T. ran a hand through his hair to remove it from his face. He grabbed the knife, then placed it on the skin of his stomach and began to carve. As the letters were carved into the skin, blood trickled down his abdomen. E.T. closed his eyes, then pressed down on the knife. But he pressed too hard, and the knife slipped.

  E.T. let out a roar that echoed in the old house. He looked down at the skin and realized he had messed it up. He panted agitatedly and bit back the pain, then wiped the blood away and looked at the letters, shaping the word:

  PATIENCE.

  He winced in pain, then bandaged it up and put his shirt back on. Grunting in anger, he approached the man he had tied to his chair in the kitchen. He was panting heavily behind the gag, fighting to breathe. E.T. smiled, grabbed the camera, and began filming. There was no time for him to rest now and lick his wounds. He had to get back up on the horse, right?

  The show must go on.

  “Hello, fans,” he yelled, putting on his most exciting smile to hide his disappointment and anger. There was no need for them to know he had messed up. He’d just have to make the next one count even more. Besides, he’d get back at Eva Rae Thomas soon enough. It was all going to come together soon.

  In due time.

  E.T. clasped his hands happily, then filmed the man in the chair, going real close in on his face to make sure everyone who was tuning in could get a proper look at him.

  “Yes, dear fans. As you’ve guessed, I’ve got something GREAT in store for you.”

  Chapter Sixty-Seven

  Matt stared at the TV in his kitchen and turned up the sound. He listened to the weatherman explain about the tropical storm Damian that was now approaching Puerto Rico and expected to make landfall later that same day. The experts had it forecasted to intensify afterward as it came back out on the warm water and then headed for Florida’s East Coast. Exactly where in Florida it would make landfall was still very uncertain, but chances were, it would hit them as a hurricane, maybe even a CAT3.

  “You think it’s gonna hit us?” his mom asked as she came out to him. She had just taken Elijah to school.

  Matt sipped his coffee, then shrugged. “It’s too soon to tell. You know how it is at this time of year.”

  She scoffed. “Yeah, well a Cat3 isn’t too bad. I think we’ll just ride it out, as usual, right?”

  Matt nodded. He had ridden out both Cat4 and Cat5s. He’d been there for Andrew, Charley, and Irma just two years ago. This storm wasn’t big, at least not yet. Still, he couldn’t help worrying more this time than usual.

  “You should have seen them at Publix yesterday,” she said. “They’re already stocking up on water and sodas like there’s no tomorrow. Batteries were completely sold out, and there was just flavored water left once I got there.”

  “And I bet you stocked up on that, then.”

  “Well, I had to; didn’t I? We have to be prepared. You never know.”

  Matt chuckled faintly. He stared out at the Intracoastal canal and his mother’s boat in the backyard. He’d have to secure that later today just in case.

  “What about Eva Rae?” his mother said.

  “What about her?”

  “Is she coming back before the storm hits?” she asked.

  Matt sighed. He had no idea. He hadn’t spoken to her since he left her on Amelia Island. But he worried. He was concerned that she was so immersed in catching this imaginary killer that she wasn’t preparing for the storm, should it come. He knew that Chad and the kids were back in town, and he felt that she should at least be with them if she decided to ride it out.

  “She’s staying with her dad and grandmother. I’m sure she’ll be fine,” he said, then finished his cup and put it down. The weather guy was still talking about spaghetti models, possible scenarios, and the cone of uncertainty.

  “What happened with you two?” his mom asked. “Did you have a fight or something?”

  Matt stared at her, then suddenly had a strange flashback to when he was a teenager in high school, and he had been in some fight with Eva Rae, as they were from time to time. Here he was, forty-one years old, and still living with his mom. So she could help take care of his son, yes, but still. Fact was, he was still living with her. Nothing had changed. Was this all there would ever be to his life? More than twenty years later, he was still living in the same house, mourning over the same girl. Was he never going to move on?

  Matt leaned over and pecked his mom on the cheek.

  “I have to go; I’m late. See you tonight.”

  “I’m making lasagna, your favorite,” she said with a smile, that same smile she used to send him when he was off to school. It made the hairs stand up on his neck.


  “Sounds good, Mom,” he yelled back, then rushed as fast as he could out to his cruiser in the driveway and got in, his chest suddenly feeling so tight he was almost unable to breathe.

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  I was sitting at my laptop when David entered my room the next morning. I had gotten half an hour of sleep, just about. Sydney was still asleep when the knock sounded.

  David peeked inside. He saw the laptop, then looked at me.

  “What are you doing? Have you been up all night?”

  “I slept … a little,” I said and signaled for him to be quiet so Sydney could get her beauty sleep. She was going to do that movie soon, and she had been going on and on about how important it was that she looked young and rested. She was using all these creams that made her green in the face while she slept. She had barely eaten anything the past couple of days, just to stay slim, and she was working out, running on the beach every day now. It was self-torture, in my opinion. Yet I still respected her for wanting to give it all she had and for the career she had managed to build for herself without any help. She was a hard worker like me, and for that, I had the deepest admiration.

  David sat down on the chair next to me. “They’re not talking much about what happened last night at the theater. I watched the news on TV this morning, and they didn’t even mention it. The newspaper had just a small note on page three.”

  “Because no one was hurt,” I said. “And they don’t want to scare the tourists away. Since there is no danger anymore — or at least that’s what they believe — they tone it down. Make it into a small thing. They’d much rather focus on the danger that is still out there like the storm that will most likely never even come close to Florida’s coast.”