Rich Girl (Broken Wishes Series Book 1)
Page 21
A resounding crash sounded down the hall. Andrew jumped up and she was shoved back to light.
“Chelsea?” Lucas?
“Here... I...”
She was cut off by a blow to the face. Her eyes filled with water and what she assumed to be blood ran from her nose. Something cold pressed against her throat, she lifted her eyes, blinked away the tears and found Andrew kneeling behind her, his eyes manic.
Lucas charged through the door with his gun drawn.
“We have police on every exit so there’s nowhere for you to go.”
Lucas stared at the man holding Chelsea. Where was Wesley Robinson? Was he involved at all? Had his hunch been wrong all along? This man looked like the sketch of Chad Wilson. He also looked a little like Robinson. Confusion clouded his mind as he tried to get his head around who he was and why he wanted to kill Chelsea. What would Chad Wilson have against her. If it was Wesley, at least it might make some semblance of sense.
He stared at the knife pressed hard to Chelsea’s throat, and the trickle of crimson at her neck caused fear to squeeze his heart.
“Drop your weapon. Tell your people on the back door to move away,” Andrew growled. “I have a car in the garage and we’re getting out of here. If you don’t do it, I’ll kill her right now.”
“You can leave but Chelsea stays here.”
“No, she’s coming with me.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“I told you I will kill her if you don’t!”
“You’ll be dead if you do.”
“I don’t care if I live or die, Detective. Do you care if she does?” he asked, pressing the knife harder against her throat producing a solid flow now. The blade pressed close to the vein which would end her life. If he moved it any further, she would bleed to death.
His mind flashed back to the shop all those years ago. There was blood everywhere. He recalled the anguish upon seeing his parent’s lifeless bodies. His clothes were soaked in their blood. He remembered now how it felt on his skin. It had been weeks before the metallic smell of blood left his hands and hair. When the police took him home to tell Carrie, her cries of denial tore through his heart. He could not let that happen to Chelsea. He could not live in a world without her in it.
“Okay, I’m putting the gun down,” he said, placing it on the floor. “I’ll get on the radio.”
Not that it matters. I’m the only one here.
“All units, this is Detective Hudson. Officers at the rear, stand down. Wilson has a hostage.”
“It’s done,” he said.
Lucas hoped Maggie would arrive soon to back him up.
“I’m going to cut the ropes, so she can come with me. If you go for your gun, she’s dead,” he told Lucas.
As Andrew cut the ropes holding her wrists and ankles, Lucas considered reaching for his weapon. Would he have time to pick it up and fire before Wilson finished his trail across her neck? Feeling helpless, Lucas watched as he returned the knife to Chelsea’s throat and hauled her to her feet.
Once her wrists were free, Chelsea tried to cover herself with what remained of her clothes. As he pulled her up, her legs shook and felt unsteady. She was afraid they would give out and push her throat harder against the knife. She managed somehow to keep her feet as he dragged her towards the door. Her attempts to break free of his strong grasp were fruitless, he held her too tight.
“If you follow me or anyone tries to grab me, she’s dead.”
“Lucas,” she gasped as Andrew pulled her through the door and into the hall.
Lucas dived on his gun and was hot on their tail. When he heard a familiar voice, relief washed over him.
“Stop right there and drop your weapon,” Maggie commanded, her gun trained to the back of Andrew’s head.
“I’ll kill her right now,” he screamed at them. “Drop your guns!”
Lucas watched in horror as he began to cut across Chelsea’s throat. A stream of blood flowed quickly now from the deep short wound. Her cries felt like daggers in his heart. Maggie took a few steps back and dropped her weapon.
The perp pressed harder against her throat and his assault with the knife was so close to bringing her death. Then a loud bag bounced off the walls.
Andrew dropped to the floor bringing Chelsea with him. When his arms flopped, releasing her from his hold, she knew it was over.
Chapter 32
Over and Done
Saturday
Lucas took the shot before he even thought about it and hoped his training wouldn’t let him down. It didn’t. The moment they fell, he raced to her and dropped to his knees. He ensured Chad Wilson was dead before holstering his gun.
“Oh God, I’m so glad I found you, babe,” he whispered into her ear.
Lucas tenderly scooped her up. He kissed her gently on the lips and stroked her matted hair.
Maggie passed him a towel, which he pressed against the wound on her neck. She then located a blanket and helped Lucas to wrap Chelsea securely within it.
“I thought I would never see you again,” she replied in a strained voice.
“Shh, don’t talk anymore. Let’s get you to the hospital.”
“Charlotte?”
“Is in the hospital. She’s all right.”
He carried her outside to the awaiting ambulance and stood beside her as they attended to her.
“I’ll be right behind you,” he told her as they loaded her in. “I love you,” he whispered but she didn’t hear him.
Once the ambulance was on its way, Lucas walked around to the side of the house and sunk slowly to the ground. This was where Maggie found him sitting with his back against the house, his head and arms resting on bent knees.
“Hey, you okay, partner?” she asked him.
“Yeah, I just need a minute.”
“She’s still alive, Lucas. You found her.”
“Yes, but did you see what he did to her?”
“Yes, I did and also what we can’t see.”
“You think I’m worried about whether he... touched her?”
“Well, yeah, maybe.”
“If he did, I can deal with it and so will she.”
“Then what’s the problem? I thought you’d be tailing that bus.”
“I came so close to losing her and I don’t ever want to feel like that again.”
“Hopefully you won’t have to.”
“Exactly, if I’m not with her, then I won’t, if anything does happen to her.”
“Are you saying you’re going to walk away now, after everything she’s just been through? I can’t believe it. She makes you so happy.”
“I can’t go through this again.”
“She’s not your parents, Lucas. She isn’t dead.”
“Yes, but what if something else happens to her? I’ve had a taste of what that would be like and I don’t think I could take it. I lost my head when she was gone. I have not been doing my job properly since I met her. I lost focus. I should have been at the house when he turned up and took her. If I’d shown her the sketch, we may have been able to identify who Chad Wilson was and we could have prevented this from happening. And we still don’t know where Wesley Robinson is, because that wasn’t him.”
“I don’t think Wesley had anything to do with this. I think Chad Wilson was working alone.”
“Why? What could the motive be?”
“We’ll have to wait and ask Chelsea about that when she’s recovered enough to talk to us. That’s if she even knows why. Are you in love with her?”
Her change of subject surprised him, but he answered honestly. “Totally and unconditionally but she’ll be better off without me. I didn’t protect her. I’d rather try and get over her now than have to do it later, when it will be that much harder.”
She shrugged. “It’s your happiness. Good luck with that.”
She shook her head and walked off.
At the hospital, a nurse came into Charlotte’s room to inform them that Chelse
a was alive and being treated.
“Oh, thank heavens,” Sarah murmured. “Please let us know when we can see her.”
“Is Detective Lucas Hudson here?” Charlotte asked.
“Yes, I believe so. He’s in the waiting room.”
“Can you ask him to come and see me please?”
“Sure, I’ll go get him for you.”
“Thanks.”
A few minutes later a tired and drained looking Lucas trundled into the room.
“Lucas,” Charlotte said. “Come here.”
He ambled over and perched uncomfortably on the edge of her bed. She sat up awkwardly and gave him the biggest hug she could manage with an arm in a sling.
“Thank you for finding my sister.”
“You’re welcome,” he said.
His expression was blank and unreadable.
Charlotte introduced him to the rest of the family, who each in turn, showed him their gratitude.
“Is she okay?” Sarah asked him.
“She’s a little banged up but she’ll be all right.”
“Did he…. do anything else to her besides...?”
“Um, I don’t know.” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry but I have to go to the station and fill out some paperwork. I just came to see if you were both okay.”
“Who was he?” Sarah asked.
“Chad Wilson.”
“Who is he and why would he have done such a thing?”
“We’re hoping Chelsea will be able to tell us that.”
“She’ll want to see you, Lucas,” Charlotte said.
“I’ll come back later.”
He stood up abruptly, said his goodbyes and strode out.
“Something’s not right with him,” said Charlotte. “I thought he would be happy and relieved, but he looks almost sad. I thought he’d be anxiously pacing the hallways, not going into work.”
“Maybe he’s just tired or in shock. It has been a long couple of days,” Bradley assured her.
“Hmm, I just hope he’s not running away,” she replied with a grim expression. “Chelsea will need him more than ever now.”
Alone in the room, Chelsea attempted to block out the recurring horrors. The screams and pleas of the other poor girl filled her mind as she tried to rest. Chelsea gave up on sleep. Her thoughts switched to Andrew and her confusion over his complete hatred for her. What had she done that was so terrible? Ignored him because she didn’t know him at school? Became engaged to his cousin and unknowingly shattered their relationship? These were very unstable and flimsy reasons to take the lives of five young girls. She couldn’t comprehend it. And he had murdered Wes too. She couldn’t believe he was dead. When the reality hit, she choked back a sob. He hadn’t walked out on her – he’d been murdered. What possible actions on her part could have provoked such a cruel plan? Was she really the rich snob she’d been dubbed most of her life? Was she responsible for Wes’ death? Guilty tears streamed down her face. Lucas, where are you? I need you. This only prompted fresh tears and agonizing sobs.
Chapter 33
Case Closed
Sunday
Consumed by guilt and sorrow, Chelsea tossed in her sleep. When she woke the next morning, her entire body throbbed. Although the morphine was dulling her physical pain, it could not alleviate her emotional scars.
When the doctor came to see her the previous night, she buried her troubles and put on her bravest façade. He advised her she would have to spend several days in the hospital, to rest and recover. She’d listened numbly as he ran through her injuries.
The wound at her throat required twelve stitches and her chest more than twenty per wound. The injuries to her face, though nearly as painful, were much less serious. Her eye and cheek were bruised, and her x-rays revealed no breaks. A small laceration on her left eyebrow also required stitches and her nose was fractured. He told her it would heal straight but it didn’t matter to her, she was far to numb to care. As she’d lost blood and was dehydrated, they were replacing her fluids via an IV drip. The doctor, concerned about infection, was also giving her medication to stave it off.
After the doctor left, her whole family, except Charlotte, came to see her with concerned expressions.
“I’m all right, really,” she said to them. “He didn’t do anything to me that you can’t see.”
“Who was he, Chelsea?” her dad asked, and she explained everything she knew, and they commiserated Wes’ loss with mournful expressions.
She asked after Lucas and they told her he came to see Charlotte but had to go back to the station. They stayed with her until she went to sleep, thoroughly exhausted. Staying asleep was a problem and she woke up again feeling drained.
A nurse wheeled Charlotte in, wearing a sling and an unreadable gaze while Chelsea was attempting to eat her breakfast. When the relief at seeing her safe and well washed over her, fresh tears began to fall.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Charlotte said, hugging Chelsea as best she could. “I was freaking out, Chelsea.”
“I’m so happy you’re okay too.” Her tears stung her lip as they cascaded down.
“It takes a lot more than that to stop me.” She smiled. “Chelsea, please don’t cry, are you okay? Are you in pain? Should I get the doctor?”
“No, I don’t need a doctor. I’ll be all right in a minute. I’m just really glad to see you.”
“Me too,” she paused. “Where’s Lucas?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him. He’s probably busy. I’m sure I’ll see him later.”
Hoped was more the word.
“He’d better.”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“No reason.” She shrugged and averted her eyes.
“Charlotte?”
“When we saw him last night, he looked kind of sad and made excuses about why he wasn’t waiting until he could see you. He had on his stone face detective look. He was most likely just tired and still in shock. I’m reading into nothing.”
Chelsea didn’t say anything for a few moments trying to gather her thoughts. “I thought he would be here after the doctor left last night or at least this morning. I know it would be hard to see me like this, but I still thought he’d be here.”
“You do look pretty awful.”
“Gee, thanks, Charlotte.”
“You know what I mean. He loves you. He was doing it tough when you were missing. I’m sure he’ll be here as soon as he can.”
Chelsea nodded but she wasn’t feeling as confident as Charlotte appeared to be.
“Time for you to return to your room,” said the nurse as she walked in. “You both need to rest.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes and waved as she was wheeled away.
By mid-morning Chelsea realized she hadn’t seen Lucas since he put her in the ambulance. Her despondency grew with each passing minute.
Chelsea managed to get a couple of hours sleep before lunch arrived. She attempted a few bites but found she couldn’t stomach it and proceeded to push the peas and tasteless mashed potatoes around the plate. Thoughts swirled around her mind like the marks left by her fork in her food. She gave up and pushed it aside. Her heavy heart filled with angst. The pain living inside her chest was more vivid and intense than the wounds on the outside. Where was Lucas?
It was late afternoon before she received another visitor, however, it wasn’t from the detective she longed to see.
Maggie sat on a chair beside the bed. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
“A bit sore but it could be worse. I’m not even going to think about looking in the mirror for a while,” she said, trying to be cheerful.
“You look a little beat up but not too bad.” Maggie smiled. “Do you mind if we run through what happened, so we can close the case. If you’re not up to it, I can come back later or tomorrow.”
“No, it’s fine.” She looked down at her hands clasped together in her lap. “Where’s Lucas?”
“He hasn’t been to see you yet?
” Chelsea shook her head without lifting her eyes. “I thought he’d already been. He kind of opted out from doing this part. It was a bit more than he wanted to hear, I think. He went home to get some rest. He didn’t sleep much the last couple of days. He was kind of going out of his mind.”
“Yeah, well me too and I’ve been told that already. Still doesn’t explain his absence,” she said, still looking down. “Let’s get this out of the way.”
“Sure,” said Maggie warily. “I’ll ask the tough ones first.” Chelsea nodded her consent. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Chelsea started from the beginning and told Maggie the story as she relived every moment in her mind. She finished by voicing her confusion and guilt. That she couldn’t understand how he’d been driven to kill first Wes and then the girls. That it appeared he been consumed with jealousy and anger that she didn’t know she had caused or how. That, because of his obsession with her, and his jealousy of Wes’ love for her, he had destroyed five lives and families. When she reached the end of the horrific story, guilt threatened to consume her.
“I’m sorry about Wes.” Maggie paused, and Chelsea offered a weak smile of thanks. “The doctor has filled me in on your injuries, but he didn’t do a rape kit, so I have to ask whether you were sexually assaulted?”
“No, he tried but I distracted him. He was interrupted again when you and Lucas knocked the first time, thankfully.”
“Chelsea, this wasn’t in any way your fault, any of it. This man was unstable, probably insane. You absolutely mustn’t blame yourself.”
Chelsea didn’t answer. The guilt must be written all over her face.
“Are you okay?” Maggie waited, and Chelsea offered a quick nod. “I don’t think there is much more we need to know. We’ll do more background work on Smyth and collect all the evidence in his house, so we should have all we need. The rest you probably don’t know anyway. As he’s deceased, we can close this without going into any more details from you. If I do need anything else, is it okay if I come back?”