Obsession (27 page)

“For you, it is no trouble at all,” Henrico said with his thick Italian accent. He looked down at his watch, “But now I have to catch my flight.”

“Thanks again.” Kendra took a step toward the door to walk him out of the bungalow that was nearly as large as her condo.

“I can see myself out. You go change out of that dress. It needs to be perfect for the benefit.”

“I know.” She smiled at him. “I’ll go change right now.”

Kendra turned toward the bedroom, knowing she didn’t have long before Angie would come inside to take her back to the safe house. She had insisted on taking up position outside the bungalow, and Kendra could only imagine that after an hour of waiting, she would be ready to leave.

A set of French doors on the side of the room led to a patio and the swimming pool beyond it. From the bits and pieces of information she had picked up, the FBI had arranged with the Biltmore to keep the bungalows near hers unoccupied during her fitting. She thought the effort was overkill, especially now that an arrest had been made, but she could admit that the solitude was comforting.

Turning away from the picturesque view, she stepped in front of the full-length mirror on the far wall. She studied her reflection, wondering what Charlie would think. She scooped her hair up with her hands, imagining she would wear it up for the benefit—and for the cameras, because if she had her way, it would be her first public appearance with Charlie Whitmore.

She wondered if he had thought of that, of the fact that the paparazzi would be out in force at the benefit and that his name would undoubtedly be linked with hers long before the weekend was over. Of course, the press could make a story out of so many things. Besides the possibility of her name being linked with the capture of the Malibu Stalker, she imagined some fashion magazine would notice her deviation from her signature color.

“Your dress isn’t blue.”

Kendra whirled around, her hand lifting to her pounding heart. She relaxed marginally when she saw Alan behind her. She supposed she should have known her father would send her a bodyguard even though she insisted she was fine. Briefly, she wondered how Alan had found her then quickly realized that he’d probably used his contacts with the FBI. Either that or he’d followed Henrico.

Knowing that Charlie would be taking her out tonight chased away her typical annoyance that such a ploy would have evoked, and she managed to smile at Alan. “No. I thought it was time for a change.”

She turned now to face him fully, and her eyebrows drew together. “How did you get in here?”

“I always imagined you would be wearing blue,” he said as though he hadn’t heard her question.

She took a step back as she wondered why Angie had let him come inside the bungalow alone. “What are you doing here, Alan?”

“I came for you,” he said, his voice eerily calm as he held up a single red rose.

The alarms in her head nearly exploded, and Kendra took another step back. She’d known Alan as her protector for years, but this wasn’t right. When he took another step forward, a horrifying thought flashed into her mind.
Imagined me wearing blue? Could Alan be the person responsible for killing all those women?
Her blood ran cold at the possibility. The odd expression on his face only amplified the panic skittering through her.

“Does my father know you’re here?” She glanced at the French doors on the opposite side of the bed. She took another step back and toward the phone by the bed. Alan was standing a few feet inside the doorway, effectively blocking her path to the front door and to where her cell phone was tucked away in her purse in the living area.

He laughed softly. “Your father is the one who brought us together.”

“What do you mean?” Kendra asked.

He edged forward, and Kendra took the last few steps to the phone. She picked it up, sickened to find there wasn’t a dial tone.

“I’ve known since you were sixteen years old that we were meant to be together. A few letters, a few suggestions to my father, and then, there you were.” He waved a hand absently toward the telephone as though her efforts didn’t bother him in the least. “The phone doesn’t work anymore.”

Kendra’s heart pounded, terror and panic shooting through her. Silent prayers ran through her mind as she begged her Heavenly Father to help her find a way out. She swallowed hard and tried to keep her voice steady. “My father trusted you to protect me.”

“And I have,” Alan insisted, moving another step into the room. “I’ve been close by, even when you didn’t know it.” He shook his head as though suddenly confused. “Why couldn’t you see me? Why didn’t you know that I was there watching out for you?”

Think!
Kendra demanded of herself. Had he really been following her around all these years? She thought of the women he’d killed—the women he’d pretended were her. But they weren’t her.

“What about the other women?”

“The others?”

“You weren’t watching out for me when you were with them.”

He shook his head quickly as though suddenly agitated. Then his placid expression returned. “There’s never been anyone else. It’s always been you.” His voice turned wistful. “I tried to talk to you at the party your parents threw for you to celebrate your first Grammy.”

Confusion filled her.

“You were standing by the pool.” His eyes stayed on her, even as he was captured by the memory. “You had gone outside to get away from the crowd. I tried to tell you then.”

Images of that night flashed into her mind, along with a vague recollection of seeing Alan in her father’s backyard. He had handed her a red rose that he’d picked from the garden and had said he wanted to tell her something. Then her father had come out and insisted she rejoin the party.

“You remember.”

“I remember,” Kendra managed to say as prayers continued to rush through her mind.

“And you remember that you never came back to talk to me. You never cared to know what it was I needed to tell you, that I just wanted to love you and that I wanted you to love me. You never gave me that chance.”

Kendra stared at him in disbelief. Could it really be that a single careless moment had brought her to this? Her life was finally becoming what she wanted it to be, and now it might end before she had the chance to explore a future with Charlie. If only he had come with her today. Charlie would have stayed inside the bungalow. He would have insisted on being close to her. He would have been prepared to use his weapon to protect her. Then she remembered Charlie’s words.
Anything you can reach can be used as a weapon.

Alan took a step forward, and his eyes glazed over. “Each girl, each time, it was as though I was asking you again, giving you a chance to fix what you had done. But they weren’t you. And I hated them for that.” Alan motioned toward the French doors, to the swimming pool beyond them. “We should take a walk.”

Kendra shook her head. “Alan, you need to leave,” she said, desperation humming through her voice. Grasping for words, she motioned to her dress. “I need to change.”

Alan ignored her words and kept moving forward. Kendra edged back until the night table was directly behind her. Without looking, she reached back, searching for something, anything she could use. Her fingers brushed against a thick decorative lamp and a heavy ceramic vase. She chose the vase.

Her teeth clenched together as her fingers curled around the base of it. He was only a few feet away now, and she knew she couldn’t let him get any closer. She picked up the vase with one hand, gripping it tightly as she swung it toward him. He jerked back instinctively, enough that the vase barely grazed his jaw.

His hand came up to his face and pressed against where her impromptu weapon had connected. Then his mouth drew into a hard line, and he shook his head slowly as he stared down at the vase still clutched in her hand. “That was not very wise.” His voice was distant as he added, “I only wanted you to love me.”

Fear spiraled inside her, panic clawing at her throat. Kendra lifted the vase again, this time holding it out in an effort to maintain the distance between them. Alan simply shook his head and stuck out his hand, knocking the vase to the floor.

Trapped, Kendra reached back again, groping for something, anything, but it was too late. He closed the distance between them and grabbed her arms.

Her scream pierced the air. “No!”

Then his hands were at her throat, squeezing so that no more sound would come. She gasped, her windpipe burning as she fought for air. She was vaguely aware of her surroundings, but all she could think of was that she couldn’t breathe.

Suddenly, Alan’s grip loosened, and something seemed to snap inside of him. In one fluid motion, he reached back, and his hand disappeared beneath his shirt. Understanding flashed through her—the realization that he was reaching for a gun. She remembered what Charlie had told her, that each of his victims had been shot through the heart. Panic, desperation, and courage melded together as she struggled against him, using both the force of her body and her flailing hands to somehow knock the gun free of his grasp.

She heard the gun drop, but before she could scramble for it, Alan grabbed her from behind and whirled her around so they were both facing the door. She caught sight of Charlie standing in the doorway and desperately wondered if her prayers had been answered or if Charlie was too late.

“Let her go, Alan.” Charlie kept his voice steady, though terror dominated. His weapon was in his hand, but he already knew he couldn’t shoot. He couldn’t get a shot off safely while Alan was holding Kendra in front of him.

He took a brief moment to glance at Kendra’s face. She was pale, but she looked determined. She had already managed to knock Alan’s gun to the floor, and it was a few inches from her feet. Now Charlie had to find some way to help her get free of his grasp. With his weapon basically useless, he decided to try reason. “Come on. You don’t want to hurt her.”

Alan stared at him with pale blue eyes, his breath coming rapidly. Charlie could hear sirens in the distance and hoped that the backup Elias had sent wouldn’t spook Alan further. He considered the psychological profile, remembering the various memories of Alan that Kendra had shared during their time together.

“I know how much you love her,” Charlie began, a bead of sweat running down his back. “You’ve loved her for years. That’s why you sent those letters to her dad when she was a teenager.”

“She needed someone to watch out for her, to make sure no one took advantage of her,” Alan said.

“And when Steve started hanging around, you were furious.”

Alan shifted his grip, and his eyes darted down to the floor where the gun lay. “He was never good enough for her.”

“Of course not, but you protected her. You made sure he couldn’t hurt her.”

He nodded, his whole face tensing with a sudden fury. “I saved her from him, and what did she do? She pushed me aside.”

“I didn’t know,” Kendra managed weakly, her voice hoarse, her eyes on Charlie.

Alan seemed to forget that Charlie was there, instead focusing solely on Kendra. He loosened his grip slightly so he could look down at her face. “You picked Dustin over me. You let that old man watch over you when I should have been the one by your side.”

“It wasn’t her fault,” Charlie said now. “She didn’t have a choice.”

“It was always her choice.”

“No, Alan. It was her father’s. He didn’t trust anyone with his little girl.”

He shook his head vehemently, and his eyes went wild.

“Alan, look at me,” Charlie said. He could feel Alan’s fragile control slipping. “Let Kendra go. You’re supposed to protect her. You aren’t supposed to hurt her.”

“If I can’t have her, no one can.” Alan’s face was riddled with derision. “No one.”

Charlie saw his intent, and a silent prayer raced through his mind. Movement blurred as Alan leaned down to reach for the gun, pulling Kendra down with him so she was still shielding his body. Alan’s fingers gripped the weapon, and Kendra gasped as she practically fell to her knees before being jerked back up again.

Then Alan swung the weapon toward Charlie, and Charlie automatically shifted to the left. A dozen thoughts ran through his mind in that split second when he had to decide whether to retreat or shoot. His training told him to think of his own safety first, but his heart wasn’t listening. His gun was still raised, still aimed at the part of Alan’s head that was visible behind Kendra.

He knew he needed to take the shot, but the fear of missing, the possibility of ending Kendra’s life, terrified him. Then he let himself look into Kendra’s eyes, and the answers were all there. He saw the fear and a steely determination, but besides that, he saw her trust.

Kendra’s arm reached back toward the end table, just as another clear and sudden realization illuminated his mind.
You can’t help her if you’re dead.
The thought startled Charlie into action. He darted into the hall so he could use the wall as cover just as Alan fired his weapon. The bullet impacted in the hallway wall right behind where he had been standing.

He heard a muffled thud and quickly shifted back into the doorway, leading with his weapon. Alan was sprawled out on the floor, and Kendra was standing over him, a thick lamp in her hand. Alan shook his head, his left hand lifting to where Kendra had presumably struck him. Kendra took a hurried step back, but Alan managed to grip the bottom edge of her gown. The material ripped as Kendra tried to pull free, her breath coming in gasps.

Alan looked up at her, evil insanity filling his eyes. He lifted his weapon. Kendra screamed, and Charlie pulled the trigger on his gun.

* * *

Kendra sat in the padded chair in the hospital waiting room, her hands clasped together, her head bowed as she uttered yet another silent prayer. The elderly man beside her flipped the page of his hunting magazine, a teenage girl across from her stared openly at Kendra, and a thirty-something woman fiddled with her wedding ring while she kept her eyes fixed on the door.

The door opened, and the woman’s eyes brightened expectantly. Then she sighed and continued her steady stare. Kendra didn’t notice any of it. All she could think was that another woman might die because of her.