Silver Falls (21 page)

The Old Goat looked affronted. “What are you accusing me of? You think I'm a child molester?”

“No. You're just a dirty old man who thinks he's a lot more interesting than he is, and I don't want to get any closer. Where's David?”

“Your father is—”

“
Not
my father,” she snapped. “And you're not my grandfather. Where is he?”

Stephen Henry managed a dignified pout. “I have no idea. He said he had some arrangements to make. This has all been extremely difficult, and I know what a sensitive child you are. Let me call your mother…”

“I'm not sensitive, I'm pissed off. Why is Caleb in jail? You know he didn't kill anyone.”

“Do I?” he replied, refusing to meet her accusing stare. “I'm not sure what I know. I've never been certain.”

“Certain about what?”

He leaned back in his chair, and it was clear he wasn't going to give her any answers. “I don't think they'll hold Caleb for very long,” he said in stead. “They can't have any proof.”

“Why are you so sure of that?” Sophie persisted.

Stephen Henry looked at her with clear dislike, something she much preferred to his fawning.

“Did anyone ever tell you you were too inquisitive for your own good?”

“Next you'll be saying curiosity killed the cat.
My mother has always encouraged me to have an inquiring mind.”

“Your mother needs to learn not to be so impulsive,” Stephen Henry said in a grumble. “Things were doing fine until she came here.”

“I beg your pardon?” Sophie said, still trying to be polite. “What's my mother done?”

“Set him off,” Stephen Henry said in a low, empty voice.

“I don't believe you. Caleb wouldn't do these things and you know it. Besides, he likes my mother, I can tell.”

“Of course Caleb likes your mother. He likes anything that belongs to David,” the Old Goat said in a cranky voice.

Now Sophie was getting pissed. “My mother doesn't belong to anyone. And I don't know what you think is my mother's fault, or why, but she has nothing to do with Caleb being arrested for something he hasn't done.”

“She has everything to do with it, and you're an idiot,” Stephen Henry said, any trace of charm long gone. “Go away and leave me alone. I don't have time for inquisitive little girls right now.”

“Not until you tell me what's going on. If you know Caleb didn't kill anyone then why aren't you doing something about it?”

“Caleb can take care of himself. He always
has.” Stephen Henry put his hands on the wheels and tried to turn himself away.

Sophie crossed the room and yanked him back. “If your son didn't kill these women then who did?”

The Old Goat looked anything but lecherous and smarmy. He looked broken, sad and empty. “I never said my
son
didn't kill these women.”

She froze, as everything clicked into place. “You knew?” she said, her voice filled with horror. “All this time, you knew that David was…”

“I never knew for certain. He's my son,” Stephen Henry said with the merest trace of dignity.

“He's a monster. And you're one, too, for covering for him, for letting him get away with it, for letting Caleb take the blame and doing nothing.”

“Go away,” he mumbled. “You're too young to understand.”

“God, I hope I never get as old as you then,” she said bitterly. “I have to go warn my mother.”

“Sophie!” His voice followed her, still with those rich tones that made her want to hurl, but she was already out the door.

She started running, taking the shortcuts through backyards, ignoring the barking dogs, the pelting rain. She reached for her cell phone—even if she couldn't reach her mother she could call Kristen's, but her battery power died just as she be
gan to dial, and with a sob she threw it, running again, desperate to get to her mother, to warn her…

Her mother's car wasn't in the driveway, and for a moment she panicked, until she remembered about the car accident. She didn't for one moment believe that Caleb would have tried to hurt her. Like most stupid-ass adults, he wasn't going to admit such a thing, but he had a wicked case of the hots for her mother, and if her mother weren't so blinded by her idiotic adoration for her creepazoid husband she would have felt the same way. Caleb was old, but then so was her mother, in their thirties at least. Old enough to know better.

There was no sign of anyone—the lights were off in the house, a sure sign that either her mother wasn't there or that David was. When her mother was alone in the house she turned on every single light. She said the darkness was eating her soul.

She moved closer, keeping to the edge of the overhanging trees, trying to look in the windows. She'd get a better view from the back, but she'd have to go through the garage to do so. The Range Rover was gone, only the BMW was still there, and she knew David would never have let her mother drive the Rover. Even the kind, sane David wouldn't let her near it. The crazy monster beneath the surface would…

She couldn't think about that. The door to the
garage was open, and she slipped inside, skirting the big black car that still smelled faintly of dead animal, moving around the front to the back door. She could just sneak out there, peer in the windows and if she saw her mother she could warn her.

The backyard was dark and shadowy. There was a light from David's study, and she froze, peering through the shadows. There was something on the terrace, something large and bulky, too big to be a person. She took a few steps closer, leaving the safety of the hedge, and recognized a chair lying sideways, with the smashed window behind it.

She had to get help. Run to the nearest house, use their telephone and call the police. She turned, and froze.

“Hello, Sophie dear,” David said. “I've been looking for you.”

C
aleb was stretched out on the bunk in Silver Falls's one jail cell. It wasn't the first cell he'd been in. Hell, it wasn't the first time he'd been in this particular jail.

Sometimes he'd deserved it. Joyriding in old Professor Morton's beloved sports car, underage drinking, fighting. There was no doubt he'd been a hellion. But there were other times, bad times, when David's shit had been laid at his door. Malicious stuff, meant to hurt.

He could hear a commotion outside the small cell area, and a moment later Maggie Bannister showed up, keys in her hand.

“You're being released on your own recognizance,” she said.

“Oh, yeah? I don't have the best reputation in this town. Why did the judge decide to trust me?”

“I vouched for you,” Maggie said in her flat voice.

“I'm charmed by your faith in me,” he said, not bothering to hide his sarcasm. “So what are the
terms? I'm guessing I'm supposed to stay away from Rachel.”

“I imagine she'll take care of that by herself.”

Caleb wanted to hit something. “You're keeping an eye on her, aren't you?”

“We are. Right now she's at home, asleep.”

“And where's my brother?”

Maggie looked guilty. “I don't know. On the record we have no reason to follow him.”

“And off the record?”

“We both know what's going on. But I can't move unless I have probable cause, and right now I have shit,” Maggie said. “Your brother doesn't know I see through his games. I've always seen through his games. He'll think he's won, and he won't be wanting to make any mistakes.”

“Maybe,” Caleb said, doubtful. “He's closer to the edge than you think. He fucked up, and he knows it. I need a car.”

“I don't want you going anywhere near him.”

“I'm not. I'm going up to my house to pack.”

“So you're just going to leave? Just like that?”

“Go to hell,” Caleb snarled. “You know I can't do that.”

“You can take Rachel's car. It's drivable, they fixed the brake line, and maybe it'll make you think twice about half-assed schemes to scare people that can backfire.”

“It worked. I had her where I wanted her.”

“You had her where you wanted her an hour before we got to the hotel, asshole. If you'd kept it in your pants we wouldn't have had this problem. He wouldn't have flipped out.”

“Yes, he would have. I just made it happen sooner.”

“And what about Rachel? How do you think she'll feel, married to a monster, used by his brother?”

“She'll be glad she's alive,” he said, his voice flat and cold. “Where's her car parked?”

“Out back. The desk sergeant will give you the keys. And don't go thinking you'll find her and ‘explain.' I don't think she's going to listen, and I don't want to tip David over the edge. Sophie's safe at my house, Rachel thinks you're a crazed killer, and David thinks he's gotten away with it. Let's leave it like that for now. Understood?”

Caleb said nothing.

“I can throw your ass back in jail,” Maggie warned. “I'm sick of the whole lot of you. Rachel's my friend and you've fucked her over, and I don't take kindly to that.”

“I'll leave her alone,” Caleb said. And he'd try. Because Maggie was right—for the moment David thought he'd managed to fool everyone. But he was dancing on a razor's edge, and it would take very little to push him over.

“Give me a call when you get up to your place and let me know if anyone's been there,” Maggie said. “If I don't hear from you I'll be sending someone after you.”

Caleb shook his head. “He won't be up there. He has no interest in killing me. Taking everything I care about, yes. Making it look like I'm responsible, of course. But he doesn't actually want to hurt me.”

“Everything you care about, huh?” Maggie said. “Well, if you care so damned much about her you better find a way to explain all this to her. I've got a feeling she's not going to be listening to me. Just don't try to do it now.”

Shit. “I didn't say—”

“Just shut up. Take the Volvo and get the hell out of here. And call me!” she shouted after him as he took off.

The Volvo looked pretty damned good for a car that had had a close encounter with a tree. The streets were empty at midday, and he drove too fast. Maggie was right—things had stabilized for the time being, there was no immediate danger. David thought he had gotten away with it, and Stephen Henry had even backed up his alibi. If they all played it very carefully then nothing bad would happen for the time being, and maybe they could stop David before he lost it completely. Before he hurt anyone else.

But he didn't really believe that. He knew his brother, knew the calm glint of madness in his pale blue eyes. There was no pulling back. Safety was only an illusion.

At least Sophie was safe. Rachel was another matter. He was going up to his house, taking the fastest shower on record, and grabbing the gun he'd stashed behind the mouse-eaten towels.

He knew how to use it. He had a license, which Maggie hadn't bothered to check, and he wouldn't hesitate. It would be like shooting a mad dog.

It wasn't his brother. It was the damaged creature who lived to hurt and kill. And he had to be stopped.

He drove so fast up the winding road that the tires spun, the car drifted sideways, and he ended up stuck in the mud halfway up the narrow drive that led to his house. He got out and ran, not sure why.

The house looked the same when he came around the corner. Bright blue tarp, gaping windows, rickety and ruined. There was no sign of anyone, and he started up the steps, taking them two at a time, all his senses sure of certain disaster.

The huge empty room looked the same in the shadows, the dark stain of blood a reminder. He started down the stairs that led into the room and then stopped as his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. There was something over by the wood
stove, something small and fragile. He took another step, and saw the long blond hair, and he let out a cry, stumbling forward.

He didn't see it or hear it, but he knew it was coming. And when the blackness closed in he fought, but it was too strong, even against his rage, and he was gone.

David had won.

 

Rachel ran blindly, not daring to look behind her, terrified that a hand would reach out and grab her shoulder. She needed to get help, and fast, and she yanked her cell phone from her pocket as she raced down the uneven sidewalks in the heavy boots. She fumbled with the keypad, trying to dial Maggie's number, but she kept hitting the wrong buttons. She forced herself to stop, long enough to catch her breath, long enough to dial 911. Before she could hit Send the phone rang.

She stared down at the image of David's smiling face for a moment, on the phone he'd given her when she moved in, preprogrammed so that his little photo appeared anytime he called her. Tempted to smash the thing on the sidewalk, she took a deep breath and flipped it open. “Yes, David?” She spoke in a neutral voice, but her hands shook.

“Darling, where are you? I got home and the
place was trashed. There were papers all over the place, and someone smashed in the window in my office. I was terrified that he'd come after you.”

He sounded like David, anxious, sweet, concerned, and she wanted to believe him so badly. Not for his sake. But for hers. “Who would come after me?”

“Caleb. They didn't have enough to hold him, and he's out. They don't know where he is—I'm afraid he's gone after Sophie.”

“Sophie's with the Bannisters,” she said, her voice numb.

“No, she isn't. Kristen said she took off before school was over, and Sophie told her to cover for her. She stopped by my father's, but no one's seen her since. I can't bear the thought of anything happening to her.”

It was so easy to believe him. “Why would she stop by Stephen Henry's? She hates him.”

“I think she was trying to find Caleb. Someone must have told her he'd been arrested, and she's so blindly infatuated with him she probably thought it was all a lie. He has that effect on people.”

Rachel took a deep breath. She was standing motionless in the rain, holding on to the telephone. She couldn't let him know her panic. “Have you told the police she's missing?”

“Of course I have,” he said, and his voice
sounded indignant, almost normal. “They'll find her before Caleb does, I'm sure of it. I don't want you to worry about it. I just want you to come back home.”

That cold, empty place had never really felt like home, she could finally admit it to herself. “I don't think so, David.”

“Sweetheart, I know what you're thinking. I saw the packed suitcases, the barrettes on Sophie's dresser. What I never told you is that Caleb gave me those barrettes. I was dating someone with long hair, someone Caleb used to care about, and he gave me those barrettes to give to her.”

“Why didn't you?”

“She disappeared,” he said, his voice, that pale version of Stephen Henry's, sounded bleak. “I know what you're thinking, and I don't know how to convince you that I haven't had anything to do with these murders. I tried to warn you that there was something wrong with Caleb, but you wouldn't listen. You almost paid for that mistake with your life. You're just lucky we got to the motel before it was too late.”

He sounded so reasonable, so concerned. She wanted so much to believe him.

“Come home, Rachel,” he pleaded. “We'll go see Maggie Bannister together. If I know her she'll have the entire police force out looking for Sophie,
and she won't stop till she finds her. Come home, sweetheart. Don't try to go through this alone. You just need to talk to me.”

“Where's Sophie?” she said, her voice raw.

“Darling, I don't know. Hiding out from me if she's believed any of Caleb's lies. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Maybe Caleb found her. Maybe she's up at his house right now, tied up, helpless.” His voice had settled into a soft croon. “That's what he wanted all the time, you know. He wanted her, not you. He thought you might make him whole, but you can't do that, can you, Rachel? You're too wild, too loud. You couldn't be what he needed, and so he had to kill again.”

She stood there, shivering, numb, as his awful words sank into her brain. The cracks were showing, sooner than she'd expected. “I'm so sorry,” she said helplessly.

“You know that won't do any good, Rachel. She's up there, waiting for you. He wants you to come up there, Rachel. He needs you to complete the circle.” His voice was eerie, calm, and she could almost believe he
was
talking about Caleb, not about himself.

“I don't have a car,” she said, trying to keep her panic under control.

“You can take the BMW.”

Her laugh bordered on hysteria. “You never let me drive the BMW.”

“I didn't know Caleb was going to sabotage your car, now did I?” His voice was sweet. “The keys are on the counter. You'd better hurry. It's going to get dark soon, and Sophie will be frightened.” There was a moment of silence. “I love you, Rachel.”

Without thinking she threw the phone away from her, and it smashed against the concrete sidewalk. She wanted to sink to her knees and sob in terror. She'd put her daughter in mortal danger because she hadn't had the brains to leave this awful place. She'd fucked up, and she wasn't the one who was going to pay. Sophie was.

Not if she could help it.

She had no idea if David was home or not. All she knew was that she had to get to Sophie.

And he'd told her where she was. Up at Caleb's house.

Could she believe a word he said? If Caleb had been released then he'd be after David as well. He'd never let Sophie be taken. Unless he'd been released too late. Maybe he was already dead. Maybe Sophie was.

She had to get up there before it was too late. She looked around her, trying to control her breathing.

There were three houses on the cul-de-sac, nearly half a mile from the house she'd shared with
David. She ran up to the first one, ringing the bell, banging on the door, the only answer being a very angry dog. The second one was the same. The third was double locked, but no dogs. She went around the back, picked up an ornamental planter and smashed it through the sliding-glass door.

No sound of burglar alarms, dammit. Alarms would bring the police, the only people she needed right then. People were just too damned trusting in this town. She reached past the broken glass and opened it, flipped on the nearest light switch. She could see the phone on the wall, and she grabbed it, almost sobbing at the blessed dial tone.

They put her on hold. The fucking police department put her on hold, with a Muzak version of “I Am, I Said” in the background. Neil Diamond again. She slammed it down into the cradle, wanting to scream.