Drop Dead Perfect (An Ellen Harper Psycho-Thriller) (29 page)

Big Harv stepped toward him. Joel raised the gun and held it two feet from his head, pulling back the hammer.

“Far enough, Harv. Killing one more won’t make a difference to me. I never liked you anyway.”

“Joel. Don’t,” said Ellen.

“How many, Joel? How many have you killed?” asked Big Harv, not flinching.

“Details, just details.”

“Taking lives is a matter of details?” said Ellen, raising her hand ever so slightly toward her holster.

“Come now. Don’t be so dramatic. Cops kill people daily. So don’t judge. Killing served quite nicely as
a way of removing morons from my life. And I do enjoy the finality of it. I was always good at getting rid of problems. Companies paid me good money for solving electrical issues because I did it better than most. I simply applied that philosophy to my personal life.”

He motioned for Big Harv to back up. He complied.

“But we digress. I asked Ellen to marry me and three months before the wedding, Kate found me. She said she’d changed, but she hadn’t, not really. I wouldn’t let her into my life or Damon’s. So she did the next best thing: she became your friend hoping to get next to me. I didn’t even know until almost a year after we’d been married. I thought I was getting a second chance at life. I was actually learning how to love, some at least. Instead, it was going to be a repeat of the first half of my life. I stood it for a few more years, then left you, hoping to get away from her.”

“You left me to get away from her? And what do you mean ‘learning’ to love me?”

“Yes. It was the best way for me. I wanted to kill her. Oddly enough, for some reason I couldn’t do it. And as beautiful as you are, Ellie, I don’t feel emotion like you do. I had to try to learn. Maybe over time . . .”

“You’re a warped son of a bitch, you know that. And you’re a freaking coward to go with it,” said Big Harv.

Joel raised the gun, his eyes wild, and fired just over Big Harv’s head, hitting the wall near Damon’s body.

“Next time, you’re a dead man. No one talks to me like that. No one.”

It took only a second for Ellen to realize that Joel’s apple hadn’t fallen far from Kate’s tree. He’d played the game well when they’d been married. The man was a complete psychopath. She had to get him back to talking about himself.

“Joel. Please. Why all of this? Why the young women? Tell me,” she pleaded.

He rubbed his face with his free hand. Looking at her, he stepped close. “Give me your hand.”

She didn’t hesitate.

“I enjoy beauty. Beauty like yours, Ellie. Look at these women. They all have your hair, your body. They carry themselves like you do. Their eyes are different, but beautiful just the same. I realized, after the divorce, how special you are. I wanted that returned to me. I wanted
you
returned to me. But the only way was to get Damon and Kate out of my life. So I did the unthinkable and called Kate. We met. I told her what I had in mind.”

It was difficult to keep the horror out of her mind as it dawned on her what that meant.

“This was all to get Damon a woman and to get back together with me?”

“Yes. And Damon did have a certain charm. Kate was all for it. She said she needed to make up for our past and wanted what I wanted. She’d also wanted nothing to do with Damon. In fact, I think she hated him. I thought it a way to accomplish what we all wanted, but none of the women were able to handle . . . well, let me show you.”

He released her hand and motioned for both of them to move toward the bodies on the wall. As she did, she glanced at Brice some fifteen feet away. He winked at her. He was telling her he was okay. But he didn’t look okay. He was hurt. It was all she could do to not take a run at Joel. But she’d never get to him before he killed her and her dad. Then the other two. She prayed for a better opportunity.

Joel reached the wall and ripped the hood from Damon.

“Good God,” said Big Harv.

Ellen put her hand over her mouth. Part of his head was missing, but that wasn’t the worst. The scars were worse than anything she’d seen.

“God had nothing to do with this. You can see why it would take a special woman to be with him. I met them . . . well, they met my alias, Kyle Black, who brought them here and hoped they’d take him off my hands. That didn’t happen. None of them were the one, so to speak.”

“You really thought that would work?” asked Ellen.

“People will go to any length to stay alive. But in the end, I could see through their deceit, their lies. I was hoping for more.”

His voice changed to a harder cadence. He was becoming excited or angry. Ellen knew they’d have to make a decision soon.

“I was willing to keep looking. I was actually becoming quite fond of the process, but Damon got out of line.”

“So you killed him,” said Ellen.

“Put him out of his misery is more accurate. It was so freeing. I should have done it sooner, but he was blood.”

“And you like the killing,” said Big Harv.

Joel turned his neck, making a cracking sound.

“I enjoy the power over life and death, ‘Dad.’ Men like me should have it. But men like you will never understand.”

He raised the gun to Ellen’s chest. “Unfortunately, we don’t all get what we want. I hate to do this, but I’m going to have to clean up this mess and get on with my life. Again, that’s what men like me do.”

“Yeah, well, men like you should be buried.”

Joel jerked his head to the left just as Sanchez fired. The bullet hit Joel in the thigh, and he returned fire. Ellen heard two screams. She pushed Big Harv to the floor and dove after him, pulling her weapon. Rolling on her side, she did a full one-eighty and fired in Joel’s direction without getting a good look. It was enough.

She heard his gun hit the floor, then complete silence. Not waiting, she stood, aimed, and saw him lying on the floor, hands around his throat, blood gushing th
rough his fingers.

For the second time in fifteen minutes, she’d shot someone she once loved. She wondered what she’d done to upset God. What lesson was she to learn from pulling the trigger?

Not now, Ellie. God and you will have plenty of time to talk. You’re going to need it.

Pushing away those thoughts, she went to one knee beside Joel, putting her hand on his arm. She started to speak, to tell him to hang on, when his body went limp.

His eyes grew wide. She saw fear, confusion, disbelief. Then the breath escaped his lungs. Ellen bowed her head. She knew it was for the last time.

Despite what he’d become, or maybe had always been, it was impossible to not feel the sadness that made an appearance when Joel left this planet. She’d be dead herself if she didn’t feel it.

“Hey Harper, want to give a girl a hand?”

Standing, she turned and headed toward Bella Sanchez. The detective sat on the faded floor, legs spread, hand reaching up. She looked very much like a needy toddler. She was
sporting a streak of blood across her left forearm, but Ellen didn’t see anything else that looked serious.

“You got it, Bella,” said Ellen.

She reached down and helped her up, then gave her the warmest hug imaginable. “About damn time . . . and thank you,” Ellen said.

“I got here as fast as I could. I had to get some help first, and you’re welcome,” Sanchez said softly. “Besides if anyone gets to shoot your ass, it’s me.”

“Help?”

Just then, a stream of blues led by Butch Dillon entered the room. The cavalry had finally arrived. Nothing was better than folks coming to the rescue, albeit a bit late. Rescue is a great word.

Rescue. Brice.

She broke from Sanchez. “We’ll talk more, just remembered something.”

“Took you long enough, Gringa.”

She didn’t answer because she was almost to Brice when Sanchez finished her sentence.

Dropping to his side, she untied the gag. She winked as she took the cloth from his mouth.

“Good to see you, Ellie,” he rasped.

“You’re a sight for me too, Brice. Let me get you out of this.”

“How’s the girl?”

“She’s still out, but breathing. Now hold still and let me get you out of this.”

Brice nodded. “Gladly. Careful of the shoulder. Getting shot hurts like hell.”

She bent to him and kissed him on the lips.

“What was that for?” he said, grinning.

“In case you die, I’ll have gotten one in, you know?”

He laughed then winced. “We’ll have to make sure I make it then, so I can return your kind gesture, won’t we?”

Two minutes later, Brice’s hands and legs were free. She helped him to a sitting position and removed the rope from his neck.

“Ellie! Come here.”

The hair on the back of her neck rose high. The tone in Dillon’s voice scared the life from her.

Ellen made sure Brice was upright and stable then hurried to where Dillon was crouching.

She’d been to hell and back the last couple of days. It looked like she was returning.

Big Harv lay on the floor, unmoving, his face turning bluer by the second.

CHAPTER-54

Sitting in the waiting room at Chicago General Hospital, Ellen leaned back in the old, orange chair then rocked forward. It had been part of her ritual for the last three hours. She was doing her best to keep her composure. To stay calm.

Talk about climbing Mount Everest.

It had been like this for two weeks. The EMS folks had gotten Big Harv to the hospital, after losing him twice, then reviving him, but he’d been unconscious and in ICU the whole time. The surgeons didn’t want to do the bypass surgery until they were sure his heart wasn’t damaged too extensively. They got lucky on that part, but the doctors were still concerned if he could survive the surgery. They wouldn’t know for sure until they started the procedure. The doctors wanted him stronger. Much stronger. But Big Harv and she hadn’t gotten a break there. Just the opposite was happening. He was getting weaker. The two surgeons disagreed on whether her Dad could handle the surgery. One wanted to wait and see if his strength got better; the other said he’d only get better with the surgery. They did agree on one thing, however—that his chances were less than ten percent of making it either way.

Ellen sipped her latest cup of coffee and then closed her eyes. In the end, she did what her dad would have done―she rolled the dice. Somewhere deep inside, she knew he wasn’t going to get stronger, so delaying things only lessened the chances that she’d hug him, alive, again. So here they were.

She hadn’t left him for a minute, well, except to visit Brice in the other wing of the building once. As much as she wanted to see Brice, pulling away from her dad was next to
impossible.

Rocking back and forth again, she decided to stretch her legs. Ellen walked to the large picture window, crossing her arms, trying to ward off thoughts of the Grim Reaper coming to visit. That was next to impossible too.

Death had been far too close a companion lately. She needed death to walk past her and
keep walking
this time.

The door from the outside hallway opened, and Brice walked through, shoulder in a sling, accompanied by Bella Sanchez. She was carrying a stuffed bear the size of California, and Brice, a small bouquet of flowers.

She had to smile. The only real good thing about this ordeal with Big Harv had been how these two refused to leave her alone for any length of time. Once Brice had been released, he spent as much time here as his doctor would allow. He looked a little pale, but he was healing quickly, and God knew he was just what she needed.

Bella Sanchez.

The woman had been relentless in her effort to make sure Ellen hadn’t spent too much time “overthinking,” as she tended to do. Her wound from Joel’s gun had been superficial, so here she was. Ellen still felt the loss of Kate, crazy or not, as her confidant. Surprisingly, Sanchez was filling that role quite nicely. Ellen actually
liked
her, rough edges and all.

“We brought you something . . . well, this is for Big Harv. Romeo brought the flowers,” said Sanchez. The subtle confidence that Big Harv would pull through raised her spirits.

“That’s kind of big,” said Ellen.

“Yeah, well I think it matches his alter ego. You know, big and soft.”

“Don’t let him catch you saying that,” said Brice.

“I’d love to have him catch me saying that,” Sanchez answered in a softer tone, biting her lip.

Ellen knew what she meant.

Moving closer, Brice set the flowers on the scarred coffee table and took her hand. “Nothing yet, huh?”

She shook her head. “They said it will be hours before they know the full score. So far, no news is good news.”

Then she squeezed his strong hand and released it.

Is that really true? No news is good news?

“Let’s get all of our minds off this for a minute. I got an update from your department on that shithead Jansen,” said Sanchez.