Nemesis (Southern Comfort) (21 page)

The first several messages were the old ones from her property manager, which she’d never gotten around to deleting.  One was a telemarketer – why did they even bother to leave messages? Like anyone ever called them back – and one from a local politician’s campaign people requesting her support in some kind of election.
  Sadie snorted.

Sh
e was just about to lose patience and fast forward to the end when the next message stopped her in place.

This is Skeet… Edward Cooper leaving this message and this is my l-last will and testament.

I know who killed Nora Beth Dennison, down in Beaufort, back in October.  And if Brady and Wilson Marshall are hearing this before anyone else, then you can go straight to hell…

The shiver which had moved up her spine worked its way out to her shoulders. 

Was this somebody’s idea of a joke?

The tape continued with deep moans followed by a loud banging, the sound of a scuffle and another man’s voice.  The words were muffled, but Sadie could make out
stupid bastard, kill you,
and
better tell us where it is.

Gooseflesh broke across her skin
, and her breathing grew quick and shallow. 

Dear God, was this actually for real?

She listened while more scuffling and some pitiful keening noises ensued, like the sound of an animal in pain.  Then another voice snarled a curse, followed by what sounded like
he has a phone
and the connection was abruptly cut off.

Sadie’s pulse skyrocketed, and her trembling finger hit pause.  Unless somebody had a real twisted sense of what constituted funny, she might be hearing the commission of a crime. 

And this is my last will and testament…

Make that the commission of a murder.  This man – this Edward Cooper – seemed to believe that he was about to die.  This couldn’t be serious, could it?

Her legs trembled, and Sadie lowered herself to the floor.

It was like a bad movie script, or, or the plot from a mystery novel or something.  Stuff like this didn’t happen in real life.
 

And why
would the man have chosen to call this number? Or had he simply misdialed? None of it made sense.

However, she couldn’t just ignore it.  If it
was
evidence of something, then the police needed to know. 

Sadie reached for the phone to call Kathleen, but a
sound behind her caused her hand to still in midair.

Slowly – very, very slowly – she turned her head on her stiffened neck.

And encountered a pair of work boots.

S
he lifted her gaze by increments, eyes widening when they encountered the gun.  And above the lethal looking pistol, the face of her security contractor, Doug. 

The sight of that smile, so friendly
and warm and familiar, was incongruous with the weapon he pointed with unerring aim directly at her head. 

“Pity you ha
d to hear that, Ms. Mayhew.”

He strolled over to her, quite casually, and unplugged the machine from the wall.
  Then he yanked the phone cord out of its jack.

Sadie fell back on her bottom from the shock of his proximity.
Or rather, the proximity of the gun.

“We knew he’d called here,” he continued conversationally. “I traced the number and that’s how we got the address, but we figured he might have had a woman he’d been warning off.  Maybe calling for help, much good as it would have done him.  Never guessed the fool would be leaving a message.  Guess I should
have checked the machine.”  He sighed as he wrapped up the phone cord, keeping the gun pointed at her all the while.

The barrel looked huge from a distance of inches.
     

Task complete, Doug sat the
phone and the answering machine aside and squatted in front of her.  “You were supposed to be gone all morning, you know.”  He reached out, lifted a lock of her hair and frowned.  “Such a shame you had to come home early.”

Skin pricking with sick revulsion, Sadie’s lunch threatened to come back up.

Allowing her hair to sift through his fingers, he pursed his lips as he studied her.  “I guess you did all that running for nothing, after all.  You gave my brother a good chase, though.  Slipped right through his hands.” His sudden smile was companionable.  “Frustrating as that was, I have to admit it was amusing.”

The pieces all clicked into place.  “The burglary… it was y-you.”    

“None other. Didn’t know you were here.  Took us right by surprise.  Crawlin’ out the window like that, and then jumpin’ off the roof…” he sighed, as if in admiration.  “Like I said – it’s a damn shame.  But I’m afraid old Edward took something of mine, and we suspect he hid it here in the house.  Bad luck for you, Ms. Mayhew.”

Yeah.  No kidding.

Then the reality of what had been happening right under her nose caused her to whimper softly in distress.  “That’s why you’re here.  You wanted a chance to really search while I was gone.”

“Just putting it all together, are you?” 

Sadie’s thought processes were indeed sluggish, as though fear had coated her neural pathways in a thin layer of ice.  “But how… I don’t understand.  I got your number from the phone book.”

“Biggest ad you could find.” 
He winked, and Sadie realized he was turning her own words back on her.  “Funny thing, you being friends with that cop was both a pain in the ass and a blessing.   Couldn’t make any obvious moves on your place, ‘cause she and that neighbor of yours were watching you like a hawk watches a chicken, but it was right nice of her to recommend you install a security system.  And a fine thing that I had a long range listening device in place when you made the initial call. We placed one just after to cancel your consultation – you know how you women change your minds – and got ourselves together all the right paraphernalia.  Did you know some of those sign places can have the magnetic ones ready for your vehicle in only a day?”

He actually waited for an answer, but she couldn’t do it.  Her tongue was frozen to the roof of her mouth.

“Anyway,” he waved the pistol, sending Sadie’s blood pressure right through the roof, “the really funny thing was, my brother actually used to work for a security company, which is how we got started with this burglary business. On the bright side, you can rest assured that he’s done a fine job with your wiring.”

“Great
,” she said, weakly. 

A shrill whistling sound made them both jump, which was dangerous, considering one of them was psychotic and wielding a pistol.

“Your tea.” Doug, or whoever the hell he was, finally laughed and tapped her leg.  “Hop up, Ms. Mayhew.  You can have a cup while we wait for my brother to get here.”      

The friendli
ness, the lack of tension, the very normalcy with which he continued to treat her freaked Sadie out almost more than the gun.  Paralyzed with fear, she sat like a statue of indecision, unable to move at all until he nudged her with a great deal more force.  She struggled to gain her feet, tangled as they were within her skirt, wobbled because her legs were like noodles and lurched unsteadily toward the stovetop.

Boiling water…

Maybe she could throw it in his face.

“You have a seat.”  Apparently he’d come to the same conclusion, for he steered her with a firm hand until she was planted in a ladder-back chair.  She watched him turn off the burner, scanned the room for some kind of weapon while he poured, wiped her sweaty palms on her stocking-clad legs when the tea bag plopped in the water. 

All the while he was making her drink he had the gun pointed at her head.

“Here you are.”  He carried the mug over, sat it down.  “Careful now.  That water’s scalding.”

And the look in his eyes when he smiled at her suggested that he’d known exactly what she’d been thinking.  Knew that she was tempted to toss the contents of the mug his way, was almost daring her to try it.

Riled despite her terror, Sadie held onto his gaze, hand trembling only the slightest bit
as she reached out and lifted the beverage.  She eyed him over the rim and blew across the surface, never once looking away from those obsidian eyes while she took a delicate sip.

“Needs sugar,” she proclaimed, forestalling a flinch when he laughed out loud.

“See what I mean?” He chuckled his approval.  “For such a little thing, you’ve got a damn big pair, forgive the off-color analogy.  A shame,” he said again.  “I really do like you.”

“Enough to discuss the conditions of my release?”

“Not that much.”

Alas, she hadn’t quite thought so.

And she knew that when his brother arrived they’d discuss what to do with her body.  Because there was no way this man was ever going to let her live.  She had to make a stand, do something now.  Once the odds were two-plus-a-pistol against one she had a snowball’s chance of getting out of this hell.

And the bastard
obviously knew that she knew it. Making it seem like he had some kind of fellow-feeling toward her, making her a cup of tea… Sadie thought back on all the times over the past week he’d been so solicitous, so concerned for her welfare.  All of it had been designed to give her a false sense of security – no pun intended.  And maybe he really had planned to simply walk away after they’d found whatever it was they were looking for.  But now, the courteous manner was worse than farce, it was another layer of cruelty.

And the thought of what he might do to her
while wearing that friendly smile gave Sadie the impetus she needed.  She’d rather act and have him shoot her now than let him drag her off somewhere.

The very thought
of which made her shudder.

Meeting his eyes, attempting to ignore the nausea roiling in her stomach, Sadie lifted the mug toward her lips again, trying to normalize the action.  As soon as he let his guard down even a little she’d toss the mug’s contents and make a break for the door.

As a plan, it was pretty much cobbled together out of false bravado and pipe dreams, but she didn’t see that she had much of a choice.  It was the only alternative available.

But the sound of a heavy hand hitting the front door made her plan come crashing down around her.

Probably his brother, she thought despondently.  It was too late.

But Doug’s
dark eyes went narrow.  If he thought it was his partner in crime, she was pretty sure he’d be delighted.

Which meant it was likely someone connected to Sadie.

Kathleen.  Sweet God.

It was both a curse and a benediction.  Kathleen was a cop, and carried a gun.  But caught unawares she wouldn’t have a chance to use it.  Likely Doug would take her out before she became a problem.

Unless Mac was with her…

But no, today was her day off.

Go away, Kath
.  If she walked in, Sadie had no doubt that Doug wouldn’t hesitate to shoot her.

The knock came again, more aggressive this time, and through the door drifted the muffled sound of a voice beckoning her to open up.  A very deep, masculine voice that was full of aggravation.

A voice she unfortunately knew all too well.

The man had impeccable timing.  When they invented that whole thing about Murphy’s Law, they surely were thinking of Declan.

“Sounds like your boyfriend’s here.”  Doug looked annoyed as he chewed on his lip.  “You two have a fight or something?”

“Or something,” Sadie concurred.  “He’ll understand if I don’t come to the door.”

His gaze sharpened on hers, a knowing smile ghosting his lips.  “Trying to protect your sweetheart, hmm?  Endearing.  But foolish.  Get up.”  He emphasized the order with a movement of the gun.  “This might work out better than I planned.”

Sadie trembled as she slowly rose, trying to figure a way around this.  No way did she want to be responsible for luring Dec
lan into a trap.  He might be heading her shit list right now, but there was no question regarding her feelings. She cared for him way too much to be able to tolerate him being hurt.

Sensing her hesitation, Doug shed his friendly act like a
snake sheds its skin. He grabbed her hand, thrusting it into the steaming mug. 

Sadie gasped, eyes pricking with tears
, but the gun jammed against her ribs kept her from shouting.

“Scream,” he said
next to her ear “and I’ll make you watch while my brother cuts your boyfriend into little pieces.  You don’t want that, now do you?”

Sadie shook her head, fighting growing panic.  Whatever she had to do to get Declan away from here, by God she was going to do it.  This man was completely insane.

“Now march to the front door and tell the asshole you don’t want to see him.  Tell him you’re going back to that ex-fiancé I heard you talking about to your friend.  Your flight leaves in a couple hours.  Not to bother attempting to contact you, because you won’t accept his calls.  And Ms. Mayhew?”