Breathless (18 page)

19

 

Snow fell in big white flakes. Normally, the sight would excite Lydia, but right now, snow was the last thing she needed. A chill ran through her though she wore a heavy wool coat. Her heart wedged in her throat as she prayed the maniac wasn't still following them.

The lodge was only about a mile and a half over the hill. As Lydia stood on her tiptoes, she could see the chimney of the main house.

Matthew leaned on her more now than when they first started. He had weakened from the trek up. Hopefully, going down would be easier. Matthew's breathing intensified, almost to a pant. She had to get him to a hospital.

When they reached the summit she tried her cell again. No luck. “Do you need to rest?” She held Matthew around the waist. His left arm wrapped around her shoulder.

“No. I'm okay.” His words came in spurts.

“Once we get through the woods, we'll hit the lodge.”

He nodded. Sweat coated him, his face now a ghostly white. Every couple of steps he'd grunt from the pain. She did her best to hold him up and guide him through bushes and trees.

They hit a slick spot, and Matthew lost his footing. He toppled over, taking her down the hill with him. Lydia tried to stop her momentum, but everything slipped from her hand. She hit the ground hard and her body ached from the cold earth.

“Matthew.” She crawled to him. He was breathing, but his eyes were closed. A scratch etched across his forehead. She wiped the blood with her finger. “Matthew, you have to wake up. Don't give up now. How can I fight for us alone?”

His eyes crawled open. “You're not alone. We're together. And God is always with us.”

“I forgot to tell you, I'm worth fighting for.”

“Yes, you are.” He let out a weak laugh. “I just thought I'd take a short cut to the bottom.”

“Next time let me know. I'll meet you at the bottom.” She placed her hand on the side of his cheek. It didn't appear he had a fever.

He raised his hand up and touched her face. Warmth rushed through her. Try as she might to deny it, she had deep feelings for him. His pain when he spoke of her brother's death showed he ached over the shooting. She knew he wasn't the type of man to take killing someone lightly, whether in the line of duty or not.

“I'm sorry I hurt you,” his voice rasped.

“Don't talk. You need to save your strength.”

“Go on without me.” His thumb caressed her lips.

“I won't leave you out here, alone.” Tears blurred her vision. “Please Matthew, don't…”

“You'll be okay.” He patted her arm. “Go on. Get help.”

Lydia fought tears wanting to fall. “It's not that far. I'll be back in a few minutes. You hang on.” She shoved off her coat and covered him with it. She rose, took a step, then stopped and looked back.

Matthew stared at the sky. His palms were together, and his lips mouthed words she couldn't hear.

“That's right, pray,” she whispered as she walked away. “Between God and me, you'll make it.” Her walk turned into a run.

 

****

 

Lydia's chest hurt when she burst through the final patch of trees. A cabin connected to the ski lodge stood within feet. She rushed to the front porch and jiggled the knob. It was unlocked.

She raised her eyes to the sky. “Thank You, God.”

She recalled the bathroom was just past the small kitchen and ran to it. Inside, she found a mess. Blood covered gauze strips littered on the floor. Where did they come from? It didn't matter, not right now. Right now she had to focus on getting help for Matthew. She tore through the drawer looking for the first aid kit.

She found the kit, then ran to the first bedroom and tugged the quilt off the bed. Next would be the main house where the phone was always left working.

Patchy sun cascaded through the window, casting a yellow glow into the room. Her peripheral vision caught sight of a picture hanging on the wall. Several pictures in fact. Each was held up with tacks. Some had been taken at her wedding, some in the park, and at the rest area with Matthew. She gasped, glancing from photograph to photograph. Justin and Matthew's faces were no longer beside her. Instead they were replaced by another man.

At once, she sensed his presence. She straightened, frozen in place. He was within inches. The smell of antiseptic attacked her senses.

“Are you enjoying my collection?”

She spun. “Warren. What are you doing here?”

She couldn't immediately make it register. Her mind raced. The pictures, the bloody gauze in the bathroom. She inhaled, suppressing the dread inside. Cold fear trailed down her spine. She worked to steady her expression, not wanting to give way to the terror inside.

After a brief pause, she said, “I'm so glad you're here. Someone tried to shoot me. He hit Matthew instead.”

“Where is Matthew?”

She looked out the small four pane window. Flakes of snow fell harder. “Out there.” Tears welled. “I'm scared.”

“Don't worry. You're safe with me, and we don't need to worry about Matthew anymore.” Warren's finger stroked her cheek.

A chill edged up her body as if an ice pick ran along her back.

“I've waited a long time to have you,” he said. “You'll make me very happy.” He brought his mouth toward her.

“No, Warren.” Lydia shoved him away. “I haven't got those feelings for you. I consider you a friend, a brother.”

“I am
not
your brother, and I'm tired of being the one who makes you laugh. I want to be the one you love.” He shoved her, and she fell into a nearby dresser. “I've been devoted to you since we were kids. I would move Heaven and Earth for you.”

She pushed herself up. “I also care about you, but we're not in love.” Her mind raced with thoughts of what could have gone so wrong in Warren's mind to cause him to act in such a way.

“Look at us. How can you say that?” Warren pointed to the images on the wall. “Look how happy we were.”

What was his problem? Was he playing some game? Anger rose inside her. How could he not see she was upset? This wasn't like Warren at all.

“These aren't real. You manipulated them on your computer.” Lydia ran to a wedding portrait, tearing it from the wall. She continued destroying snapshots, yelling with each. “This isn't you, it's Justin.”

“That's me with you. When I was the man you loved.”

“Stop it. That's not us. We were never married. I married Justin. I loved Justin.” She finally came to a photo taken with Matthew. Pulling it from the wall, she tore Warren's picture from it. “And this, this is of Matthew and me at the rest area outside of Lincolnville. I love Matthew, not you.”

The words tumbled from her mouth. Until that moment, she hadn't realized it herself. She was shocked to a standstill. She did love Matthew.

“Don't say that. Don't say his name. Not here. He doesn't belong here.” Warren grabbed her above her elbow so hard she winced. Madness gleamed in his eyes, and a sneer ran across his lips. “We were happy until he interfered with us. But I forgive you. And now it's only you and me. We can be happy again, like we used to be. See how much I love you. That's why I forgive you.”

“Forgive me for what?” Lydia jerked away. “I haven't done anything wrong except maybe in your mind. I loved Justin. I watched as he died slowly. You were there. You know how much I loved him.” She hesitated. “And now, I
love
Matthew.”

“Shut up!” He grabbed her by the neck and shoved her against the wall. “If you ever say that name again you will have to be punished. You wouldn't want that. Would you?”

“No.” The word barely came out a whisper as Lydia stared at him. She fought to halt hysteria from grabbing hold. His features were that of a person she didn't recognize. She'd never seen those cold, dark eyes in her good friend before now.

Warren grabbed her by the upper arm and dragged her to the living room. All the while Lydia tried to persuade herself that he'd never hurt her. It must be the bump on his head causing this craziness. There has to be something wrong with his brain. That could be the only explanation for his strange behavior.

A fire in the fireplace warmed the room, and he stopped to light candles on the mantle.

The harder Lydia tried to deny it, the more she realized he must have been the person terrifying her. He knew her routine. He'd been in her house pretty much every day, even having a key to all her locks, new and old. Riley said it was someone using a computer. Warren's expertise. All the pieces fit.

She cringed. Had he been altering the pictures over years or just recently? It was hard to tell.

“You've got to see it, how much I want you.” Warren's words came out bitter as he punched at the logs in the fire with a poker. “Everything has been to show you that.”

“You never let me know.” She eased herself into an oversized chair. The warmth of the fire reminded her of Matthew out in the cold. She had to help him. He couldn't die.

“How could you not notice?” He jabbed harder. Sparks flew into the air. “If you cared it would have been obvious.”

“I've never had quite that presence of mind when it came to men.” Lydia folded her hands, praying God would make a way through to her friend and for someone to find Matthew.

“Except when it came to Justin.” Warren's jaw set tight as his expression iced over. “And that new preacher.”

“Why didn't you just say something? Why scare me with the phone calls?” She asked to confirm her suspicions.

“You were supposed to call me. I would have saved you. But no, Sheryl had to insist on calling Riley. All because she has the hots for him. She shouldn't have done that.” His voice lowered. He rose and leaned on the mantel, pulling a knife from his belt. He stabbed the knife into the wood. It now stood erect. “She'll discover the punishment for being so nosey.”

No!
Lydia inwardly screamed. “Did you tell her about your feelings for me?” She willed herself to remain calm. Glancing out the window, she was grateful to see it had stopped snowing.

“Are you kidding? She would have told the whole town. Everyone would have known before you.”

“Then why are you mad at her?” Lydia said. “You know she's wrapped up in her own little world. She shouldn't be blamed. The only other people she cares about are you and me.”

“That might be true, but she shouldn't have kept pushing the preacher onto you. If she hadn't been such a busybody, this wouldn't have happened.”

“If you kept quiet, it's your fault.” Lydia's tone was more forceful than she felt. How could she not know Warren loved her? How could she not see his instability? She scolded herself for not being aware of him coming apart. “I'm sorry.” She whispered. A tear rolled from her lashes. “Justin's death hurt so much I didn't want to see or feel anything at the time.”

“That's why this is perfect.” He walked over to her and knelt beside the chair. “You and me. Justin's no longer between us. We can be together. Everything I did, I did for you.”

“Crank calls and messing up my house doesn't really say love.”

“I'm talking about Jimmy.”

“Jimmy?” Lydia mentally pinched herself, hoping to wake from this nightmare.

“I wasn't going to let him get away with hurting you anymore.” Warren's voice was calm and indifferent to the fact he had killed a man. “I protected you.”

“
You
killed Jimmy?” Lydia's chest rose and fell from the trepidation. “Whose blood was on the walls?”

“Mine, of course. I knew the cops would test it.” He walked over to the large sofa across from her and plopped down. “I figured if I was hurt, you'd realize how much you cared for me.”

“I do care for you. I just don't love you like a woman should love a man.”

“But I've always adored you.” He held up the partially amputated finger tip. “I did this for you. I'll bet your preacher wouldn't hurt himself to show how much he cared.”

Lydia fought the bile rising in her throat at his sick fantasy. How could he have kept this insane persona hidden so well? His facial features were even different. He held a twisted expression with cold, uncaring eyes. His jaw set in place as he constantly ground his teeth.

“You shot the old man at the rest area.” The words barely escaped her lips. How else could he get the picture of her and Matthew?

“I only tried to scare you.” He paused. A sneer ran across his lips. “I should have dispatched Matthew to the great beyond then and there. It would have saved quite a bit of trouble. I figured when you found out about Charlie you'd never want to see him again.”

“You knew about Charlie?”

“When you started dating Matthew, I researched him.”

“Why didn't you tell me? How could someone who claimed to care for me keep that a secret?” Anger was overcoming her fear.

“I figured you'd want to know why I was checking up on him. I had no excuse so I e-mailed the information anonymously to James. I knew he'd take care of Matthew for me. It never dawned on me you'd ever forgive him for killing Charlie. You can't seem to stay mad at anyone very long.”

“That should make you feel good,” she said. “It means once this is over, I'm likely to forgive you too.”

Warren laughed. “You really don't understand, do you? Since I can't have you in his world, I plan for us to spend all eternity together.”

A rock dropped deep into the pit of her stomach and her hands trembled. In order to survive, Lydia knew she had to remain calm. Right now, she had to focus on getting away so she could save Matthew before he froze or bled to death. The words stuck in her mind. The temperature was already below freezing. She had to get to the main house and to the phone.

“How does your hand feel?” She inhaled her apprehension.