Authors: Heather Graham
Yes, help was out there.
But she didn’t dare cry out; the killers were among those who might be seen as rescuers by anyone who happened to come upon them. She had no doubt that, even with other people, they might well have an opportunity to kill her before she could speak. Before she could reveal what they were...
She leaned against a tree and got her feet into the boots. When she’d done that, she moved deeper into the woods. She moved as quietly as she could, trying to keep from cracking branches or giving any other indication of her whereabouts.
She’d gone in about fifty feet when she came through the trees and to a clearing.
“Meg?”
She heard her name whispered by a terrified voice. A female voice.
She didn’t reply; she waited.
Then she heard a soft, frightened sob. “Help me...someone help me, please.” Looking around the trees, she saw that Kendra Walker, muddied and disheveled, was slumped by a tree, tears streaming down her face.
“Help me, oh, Lord, someone...help me!” she wailed again.
Meg was shocked. Had whoever spirited her out of the MacAndrew house taken Kendra, too? Had the killer finally snapped and decided to take out his boss’s wife, along with all those who’d seemed to threaten him?
Or was Walker himself behind it all—and had he chosen tonight to rid himself of another burden?
The cries were heart-wrenching.
Meg crouched low and inched toward her. “Mrs. Walker—Kendra, you have to be quiet. Help is coming,” she whispered, “but we need to be quiet until we see that it’s—it’s the Krewe that has come. Get up, please. We have to get farther into the woods.”
“I—I can’t!” Kendra told her. “My ankle! I had to get away when I realized it was... Joe. Oh, God, it was Joe all along, Joe Brighton!”
“Get up and lean on me. We need to move into the woods, where we can hide until we know it’s safe.”
Meg started toward Kendra but she stopped abruptly. She could see someone there in the night, slowly appearing.
It was the ghost she had seen before. The ghost of Genie Gonzales.
And Genie spoke.
“Don’t trust her!” Genie said.
Kendra evidently didn’t see Genie; she turned to look around, to find out where Meg was.
And then everything about her changed. The mask of tears was gone. She had a hard, vicious expression on her face and she seemed furious—not hurt at all.
“Damn you, Joe, get the little bitch!”
Meg whipped around to see Joe Brighton behind her, wielding a long sharp knife. He smiled at her.
“Joe Brighton,” Meg said. “Not a surprise.”
The man acted confused. “Not Joe, it’s Slash. Slash McNeil, at your service.”
“Joe, quit acting like an ass. This isn’t the time to fool around. Kill her! Kill the bitch and let’s be done with this!”
“Slash,” the man said, still smiling at Meg. It was a bizarre smile, cheerful and self-satisfied. “Slash—and I’ve been waiting.”
He had a Bowie knife; she had a scalpel. He was a fit, strong man. But he couldn’t get behind her to drug her again and carry her out a window and eventually down into a deep dark hole. They were face-to-face.
“I’ve watched. I’ve waited,” he said. “Slash... Slash doesn’t like playing with pills and leaving women alive in the dirt. Slash likes to feel the knife on flesh. Now... I have my chance.”
“Damn you, Joe!” Kendra shouted.
“Shut up, woman!” Brighton growled, never taking his eyes off Meg.
“That’s what happens when you deal with men who are sociopaths or psychotics,” Kendra said. She shrugged, glancing at Meg. “Oh, well. I don’t care if Joe has fun thinking he’s the world’s most famous—uncaught!—serial killer. Slash. I got wind of his little idiosyncrasies, including murder, when I caught him one night about to attack a coed. I might have died myself if I hadn’t convinced him I needed someone like him. My husband is a good man, you see, and a total fool—like most good men. He didn’t see that he’d never get anywhere while Hubbard was alive. Now, Hubbard, that was tricky. But we pulled it off, didn’t we...Slash?”
“We pulled it off,” Slash agreed. “And the tongues were a smart idea, right? People can’t talk without tongues, so that was my signature.” He grinned. “I’ve read every serial killer study out there, so I know about signatures. Putting them at Manheim’s place and yours—that was clever of you. It confused everyone.” He sighed. “You should’ve at least let me take Lara’s tongue,” he told Kendra.
That chilled Meg deeply.
I’m probably about to die myself. I should be scared.
But without intending to, Kendra was giving her time—time to come up with a plan, a way to escape. It was a good thing that Kendra seemed to think Meg needed to know just how clever she’d been.
And that she, not her husband, was the real power! “Yes, Slash, the tongues were a great plan of yours,” Kendra said. “I always told Slash—even before I knew he was Slash!—that people, certain people, couldn’t be allowed to talk. I guess that gave him the idea of taking their tongues when he started.”
And Meg realized that Kendra Walker was as much of a sociopath as Brighton, and beyond any doubt, a monster.
She didn’t want to be the vice president’s wife; she wanted to be the first lady.
She’d gotten this man to do the work for her. Knowing he, too, was a monster, she’d exploited his sickness for her own gain. The man before her had now dropped his mask, just as Kendra had dropped hers—but what lay behind his eyes was true insanity. Behind Kendra’s...lay a cold and psychopathic degree of control.
Which of them was the more dangerous? Meg wondered.
She had to move. She propelled herself into the clearing, toward him, scalpel raised and ready, and she caught him hard, right in the belly. It didn’t kill him, but he was wounded and he was down. She could run again, scream for her life...and look for help while he gathered himself. She could try jumping on him, slashing him with the scalpel, but she’d learned in the academy to judge the strength of an opponent and take evasive measures when necessary.
In this case, it was necessary. She turned to make a calculated retreat.
She was stunned when she suddenly went flying herself.
Kendra Walker was standing over her, having tripped her, pure and simple.
“I would’ve told you more,” Kendra said, scowling down at Meg. “What do I care now? Okay, so I like an audience. But you have become a major pain in the ass.” She turned to the killer she commanded and said, “Joe, Slash, whatever the fuck, get over here now and finish this!”
Meg heard Brighton lumbering to his feet, groaning and cursing and coming for her.
* * *
The ghost soldiers of Gettysburg moved swiftly through the trees—literally through them at times—and Matt struggled to keep up. He couldn’t even see Killer; the dog was all but buried in the tall grass, bracken and brush that covered the forest floor. His heart was beating furiously. He still didn’t know exactly who else was involved, but he did know that Kendra Walker was in on it—whether her husband was aware of it or not. Matt couldn’t tell yet just how much Walker grasped about what had been going on. Matt knew for a fact that it was Joe Brighton who’d done the killing. Ellery Manheim had been cleared of the murders—although he might prove to have been involved, too. The actual killing, however, had been done by one hand, and one hand alone. And Nathan Oliver, the giant who
looked
like a killer, had been with him and Congressman Walker when Meg was taken. As always, appearances could be deceptive...
Had Ian Walker planned the events tonight—to allow his wife and his henchmen time to slip Meg out of the house—and to ensure that when she found Lara, she could be with her friend for eternity?
He didn’t know yet—he just knew who was involved because he’d found Kendra Walker’s pendant on the ground at the mill. The silver pendant of the Washington Monument she’d toyed with when they’d met... At the moment, he didn’t know and didn’t care if she’d been working on her own or with Walker. Or if, perhaps, she’d acted on some remark he might have made about what would make his climb to the White House easier. She’d recognized the one man among her husband’s retinue who would suit her purposes, a man who’d been willing to slash women to death in order to distract everyone, including media and police, from the murder that meant so much—that of Congressman Hubbard.
And Lara had suspected. She’d sensed that something wasn’t right. And she’d been smart enough to realize that she’d needed to disappear, but she hadn’t realized how quickly.
Running through the woods, he heard voices just ahead.
He burst through the trees to see that Joe Brighton was standing over Meg. Protocol said he should draw his Glock and tell the man to halt and drop his weapon.
But that would give Joe Brighton time to carry out his deed if he didn’t drop his knife. And Matt couldn’t risk shooting at such close range. Especially since Brighton wouldn’t care if he died in killing Meg.
And then Meg would be dead.
Matt didn’t call out a warning. He hurled himself straight at Brighton, bringing them both down a few feet past Meg. He’d taken the man by surprise; the Bowie knife flew into the dirt. He heard Meg scramble to her feet. The man beneath him was struggling to reach his own gun. Matt slammed him with a right hook against his jaw.
He turned just as Meg kicked the Bowie knife far from the man’s grasp. Kendra let out a howl that sounded like that of a dying wildcat; she leaped at Meg.
But Meg didn’t need help. She caught the woman by her shoulders and threw her hard against a tree. Kendra staggered to her feet. Meg headed back for her, a ball of energy and fury.
Meg had a damned good right hook herself.
Kendra Walker went down, sagging against the tree.
Matt heard Jackson’s voice. He stood over the fallen Joe Brighton, panting and gasping as the ghosts of the soldiers moved through the forest like...wraiths.
He looked at Meg and she looked back at him, then scampered across the clearing, ridiculously clad in a too-big officer’s jacket and giant boots. She flung herself into his arms and said, “I knew you’d come. I knew you’d come.”
At their feet Killer barked excitedly.
Matt held Meg in his arms as if she were the most precious being on earth—which she was, to him. And then, as Jackson erupted through the trees and ran over to them, Matt ducked to pick up the little dog.
Jackson glanced at them and then at the two on the ground and nodded his relief. He stepped forward, ready to handcuff Brighton and Kendra Walker.
Matt turned slightly. He smiled and lifted a hand. Soldiers in blue, and soldiers in butternut and gray, were disappearing, becoming part of the trees.
Private Murphy, inclining his head gravely, was the last to go. Matt mouthed the words
Thank you,
and the apparitions in the forest disappeared into the mists of night.
Epilogue
M
eg was glad to be at Matt’s town house—and to have Lara there, too. It was Lara’s first night out of the hospital. Due to exposure and dehydration, she had pneumonia, and although she was still sick, she was doing much better. Nancy Cooper was driving up to be with her beloved niece, and they’d have dinner here, with Matt and Meg. Then Nancy would be with Lara when she returned to her home by the Capitol and packed up.
After that, Lara was going to Florida. She wanted to lie low and she no longer wanted to be in the public eye. She’d been offered a job at a new dolphin research facility near Miami, a small place where her PR skills would be vital. She’d always had an interest in marine zoology, as well as politics, and it was important that the public understand that the staff weren’t torturing dolphins; they were taking in the old and the wounded and doing research on dolphin intelligence while delighting children and adults alike with the social antics of the sea mammals.
“A scandal like this hasn’t hit Washington since...ever!” Lara said, curled up in an armchair and sipping tea. “I’m still doubtful. I can’t believe that Ian Walker had no clue whatsoever that his wife was so fixated on the White House—or that she was willing to commit murder to get there. Well, to arrange for murders to be committed. Or maybe she didn’t see it as murder. But I heard them talking once. Kendra and Ian, that is. And she was telling him that he should be the one making the bid for the White House, not Congressman Hubbard. But he said that as long as Hubbard was running, he was second man on the ticket and that was that. And...the next thing I knew, Hubbard was dead. Heart attack. I vaguely suspected Ian—or one of his aides. But when I was with that trio—Ellery, Joe and Nathan—they all seemed to be okay. So, while I suspected
something
, what do you in a situation like that?
“The night we were working so late, he was finishing up his Gettysburg speech, and that’s when I saw how much he intended to change his policies and...his changes did not support Congressman Hubbard’s platform. I didn’t know if those guys had anything to do with Hubbard’s heart attack. Still, I felt I had to get away, try to figure it out, keep my distance from them.”
She hesitated. “I had no idea at the time that Joe Brighton—
Slash McNeil—
had already decided that I might have to disappear. And that he was out there, murdering and mutilating other women, so there’d be a real trauma on the national scene and that people would believe that I’d either left—or been a victim of the killer. Never mind that he’d apparently found a...an obscene calling as a serial killer. What I still don’t understand is why he didn’t just kill me at the start.”
Meg watched as Matt came around behind Lara’s chair. “Lara, you don’t remember much from that last night in Gettysburg. You couldn’t. You were burning up with fever and then you were in the hospital. Kendra Walker never admitted to anything. She immediately demanded a lawyer, called us liars and said she’d been trying to save Meg because she suspected Joe of being a killer. She’s sticking to her story, but I doubt she’ll get away with it. The prosecutors are organizing their evidence and their case with a vengeance. Walker claims he’s absolutely innocent—but whether he is or isn’t, he’s retired from politics now.”
“I think he might have had a sick feeling that things weren’t right,” Meg said, “but from what I gathered that night, she always ‘wore the pants’ in their family. He wouldn’t have questioned her. He would’ve done as he was told.” She shook her head ruefully. “I’m still staggered by the fact that they managed to get me out of the house that night,” she said, catching Matt’s hand and smiling.
“I went through all of this with Jackson and Angela, trying to straighten out the details,” Matt said. “Kendra played up to Maddie Hubbard all the time, and she made sure that Maddie left her door open so she could run in to ‘check’ on her and that she spent time with her, as well. None of the security forces noticed her going in and out, and there was quite a bit of commotion. So, apparently, when she’d supposedly gone to bed and you’d gone to your room, she went to Maddie’s and had Joe follow her—with the chloroform,” Matt said. “Maddie was out like a light. All they had to do was make sure that Joe could get you when you were either asleep—or in the shower. Kendra made all the plans, always had. She knew when to be with Hubbard, how and when to switch his pills, and yes, she did have to hope he died when he didn’t get his digitalis. What I
don’t
think she initially realized was that she got a true madman to do her deeds. I think Joe would’ve been happy to cut her throat in the woods that night. He’s gone completely mad now, says there is no Joe Brighton, that his name is Slash McNeil.”
“I think Kendra’s her own kind of psychopath,” Lara said.
Matt nodded. “No argument there. Anyway, she made her mistake with you, Lara. She didn’t want your body showing up right away. She wanted your remains tossed when the time was right and...”
He paused for a minute, then said quietly, “...and sufficiently decayed to make identification difficult at first. But she was afraid of Meg, too, since Meg—Lara’s best friend—was an FBI agent. Somehow she figured that she could get rid of her that night in Gettysburg—and that we’d all believe Meg had thrown her career to the winds to go and look for her friend.”
“But who arranged for Walker’s company to buy the property by the mill? That was obviously all part of the plan,” Meg said.
“Joe did—after Kendra said they should have it. Kendra arranged to rent the MacAndrew farmstead for the day of the speech. She chose the room assignments. Meg, do you remember that your window was right by a trellis that ran along the wall from the back porch? Well, he just climbed down it with you over his shoulder. While he was doing that, Kendra was outside, ever so sweetly checking with the security men there and making sure they were watching the road for traffic—or for anyone trying to sneak in. No one was looking for anyone to sneak
out
. Brighton got you outside, walked down the field to a little ATV he’d purchased and dumped you at the mill. I suspect,” he continued, “that Kendra told Slash he could kill you both after Gettysburg. The speech would be over. There was no danger of the public not adoring Ian Walker, and all would be fine.”
“Do you know why Kendra ordered one of the dead girls’ tongues to show up at her house—and then in Ellery Manheim’s desk?” Meg asked. “And at his house?”
“I think so,” Matt replied. He offered them a grim smile. “Manheim really was innocent. Kendra wanted him out of the house. He might get too close to the truth. Fortunately, she didn’t think of everything.
Un
fortunately, neither did we. If we’d gone through all the footage of who was where when, we would’ve known that Slash wasn’t at the Walker house on the night of the murders. We were looking for Manheim. But even if we’d gone through them all, Walker’s three closest aides have their own residences, too, so they could’ve claimed they spent the night at their homes, where there weren’t security cameras. Lucky for Ellery Manheim, he was in the Walker house on the nights that mattered.”
Lara looked over at Meg and smiled. “My dear friend, you are the best. I love you so much. I kept believing that you’d find me. And you did.”
“To be honest, at first I thought you were dead. Matt was the one who felt certain you were still alive. And he read your journal and decided that we needed to follow it. Even if Walker hadn’t been speaking in Gettysburg, it was going to be our next stop.”
“I guess you didn’t plan on finding me the way that you did,” Lara said drily.
“No. And...I guess I didn’t actually find you. But we would have. I just don’t know if we would have found you in time, otherwise. And so...”
“So...” Lara said. Something in her voice told Meg that she didn’t want to dwell on this anymore. Lara suddenly smiled. “So there I was in a black pit—while you were getting it on with the government hottie!” she teased. Then she frowned. “I don’t understand. What did Joe get out of all this, doing everything Kendra said?”
“First, she got him by telling him that she knew what he really was—and what he was doing. And then, by allowing him to vent his craziness and even giving it a direction.” Meg shook her head. “You should have seen her that night. My God, she was proud of herself.”
“Scary as hell!” Lara said with a shudder. “I can’t believe I’m alive.”
Meg grinned, not even flushing. “Hey, the government hottie helped me find you.”
“Hey, I’m sitting right here,” Matt said. He grinned back at Meg. “I like being a hottie.”
Meg groaned. “Don’t let all this go to your head...” she pleaded.
Her voice trailed off as Killer began to bark. There was a knock at the door, and Matt rose to answer it. Nancy Cooper had arrived.
Matt opened the door, welcoming Nancy in; there were hugs all around, but none so tight as the one she gave her niece.
Then there was a lot of laughter and joy as they sat down to the roast dinner Matt had insisted he could prepare, which was excellent.
But it was an early night; Lara still tired quickly and she and Nancy needed to get to her place.
When it was time to leave, Lara hugged Meg fiercely and then Matt.
Meg stood with him in the doorway to watch them leave. Killer escorted them down the walk.
Matt started to return to the house, and Meg called the dog.
But the little guy stayed at the end of the walk. And Meg saw Genie Gonzales appear, then slowly stoop down to pet him.
Genie noticed Meg watching her. She lifted a hand, and Meg realized she was saying goodbye.
“Thank you,” Genie said, gesturing at Killer.
“No, thank
you
,” Meg said.
Matt came to the doorway, just as Genie disappeared. She didn’t merely fade away; it seemed that there was a beautiful flash of light all around her.
It might have been a blinking streetlight.
Meg didn’t think so.
She knew Matt didn’t, either.
After a moment, he said, “Come on, Killer. In for the night.”
The dog looked out into the night a moment longer, then obediently trotted back into the house.
Matt closed and locked the door.
He leaned against it, trapping Meg in his arms, locking her into position there. He smiled. “Hottie, huh?”
“Oh, Lord,” she murmured.
“Want me to prove it?” he teased.
“If you can,” she teased back.
He released her and she headed up the stairs, aware that he was following her, that he knew her mind...
And was quite capable of proving that he was everything she wanted. Her lover, her partner.
And her life.
* * ***
Keep reading for an excerpt from
THE FORGOTTEN
by Heather Graham.