Until I Die Again [On The Way To Heaven] (Soul Change Novel) (36 page)

“I don’t even remember calling her.”

“But you stopped somewhere to call. That would give him some time.”

“Yeah, but not that much time. And he wouldn’t have known…” Her eyes widened as the final piece of the memory jigsaw puzzle slid into place. “My tire went flat. I stopped and put on the spare. There was a gash in it; maybe a knife slash. He cut my tire, and that gave him the time he needed.” Then the blood drained from her face. “Oh my God, Randy really did kill me. How are we going to explain all this to the police? Will they ever believe us?”

“It’s going to be tricky, trying to explain how you know all this when you just moved to town. We’ve got to get that file from Randy’s office.”

She looked at Jamie. “No, you’ve got to go back to Caterina. Dammit, you shouldn’t even be here!”

“Of course, I should. Despite whoever you are inside, you’re still my wife.” His eyes blazed with determination. “And because of who you are inside, I love you. I’m staying with you.”

“No, Jamie, this is my problem. I don’t want to drag you into it. Look what I’ve already done, what with Mick attacking you. This is my fight, and I’ve got to do it alone.”

He leaned closer, his eyes narrowed. “The hell you are.”

“Hill.”

“No, the
hell
you are. You think after what I saw earlier, and after what you just told me, that I’m going to leave you to deal with this by yourself? I think you know me better than that.”

She didn’t want to drag him into this. But she didn’t know what she would have done if Jamie had obeyed her and left.

“Jamie—”

“Don’t argue with me, woman.”

“I was going to say, I love you.”

He pulled her hard against him, and for an instant, she had a crazy thought that the sound of crashing glass was the sound they’d made when they came together. It wasn’t. It was the crow bar that was starting to swing in through the open window again.

 

 

CHAPTER 19

 

 

Hallie felt the sting across the back of her head before Jamie shoved her down and grabbed hold of the swinging crowbar. Dizziness swarmed in her brain amidst the grunts of the two men above her battling for the crude weapon. Anger, fast and furious, raced through her. Randy had taken her life before, and now he meant to take it again—along with Jamie’s.

She reached for the door handle and shoved it open, toppling Randy onto the snow-covered ground. Before he could get to his feet, she jumped out and leapt on top of him, pounding her fists into his face.

“You son of a bitch! I am not going to let you kill me again!”

His green eyes widened, registering confusion. After that, everything happened too fast. She saw Jamie in the corner of her eye, then Randy twisted around and suddenly she was pinned beneath him with a knife at her throat. The horror in Jamie’s eyes matched the fear in her heart. He froze.

Randy gasped, his eyes shifting from Hallie to Jamie. “Don’t come an inch nearer, or she’ll be coloring the snow red.”

Jamie raised his hands, but his voice remained harsh. “Put a scratch on her and die.”

“You might be bigger than me, but I’ve got the knife.” He pressed the blade harder against her throat.

She found herself memorizing every feature on Jamie’s face, pressing the image into her mind to take with her to Heaven. She wanted to plead but was afraid to move for fear the blade would cut her.

Randy nudged her. “Whoever you are, get in the truck. Both of you.”

She wanted Jamie to run, but she could tell by the look in his eyes he wasn’t going to leave her. He walked to the truck and slid in, never once taking his eyes off her.

“The driver’s side!” Randy barked in her ear, making her flinch. “Okay, you get up slowly. And no more attempts at being Superwoman, or you won’t get a chance to say goodbye to your hubby, got it?”

She didn’t answer, just got to her feet along with him. He shoved her along the icy ground toward the black truck. The sky started spitting half-frozen water, reminding her only then how cold she was. She slid into the cab next to Jamie, and Randy squeezed in and closed the door. The knife was still pressing against her throat.

“Start the truck and head east,” Randy ordered.

Jamie complied, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the narrow road. It hurt to look at him, to feel his arm against her shoulder, and know that they would never get to explore a new life free from old hurts and deception. Her heart felt like a rubber ball, hard and tight inside. If she would have just left it alone, lived with the nightmares, this wouldn’t be happening.

Randy gestured. “Turn down that road.”

She knew where they were going: to his trailer. It was hidden by a stand of evergreens that encircled it half-moon style. The truck struggled through the snow on a road that was never plowed except when Randy cared to do it himself.

“We’re home, kids!” Randy chimed before yanking her out of the truck backwards. When Jamie moved in retaliation, the knife took its former position biting into the skin of her neck. “Watch it, hero.”

Her inadvertent cry restored Jamie’s calmness, though she saw the muscles in his throat straining against his skin, holding back his fury.

They stomped through the snow and flurries to the aluminum trailer like a party of mourners, Jamie in front. When he reached the dilapidated wrought-iron steps, he turned.

“You’ve got the key.” Randy pointed to the key ring Jamie held. “Open the door.”

Jamie’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before turning and trying the different keys on the ring. When he found the right one, he turned the key. Her head spun at the speed in which Randy moved. Before she realized what was happening, he grabbed a broken bar from the steps and slammed Jamie in the back of the head with it. He dropped to his knees, then fell to the ground.

“Jamie!”

Randy caught her arm and jerked her backward. “Help me get him into the trailer.”

“Oh, God, not again.” Blood colored Jamie’s blond hair.

“Lift his head and help me get him inside. Or do you want me to drag him feet first?”

She gently lifted Jamie’s head and shoulders and kicked the door open. They laid him on the worn green carpet in the living room. Randy grabbed her arm and yanked her outside into the cold again. They walked to the tiny wood shed, and her heart shuddered as she tried to remember what he kept there. Thankfully, he reached in and only grabbed a coil of rope.
What small favors I’m grateful for now.

When they walked back in the trailer, Jamie was moaning. She leaned down and touched his face, willing his eyes to open.

“Wah, wah.” Randy jerked down a narrow hall to a bathroom the size of a kitchen cupboard. “You’re killing me. Sit down, behind the toilet.”

“What are you going to do with us?”

“I’m working on a plan. I wasn’t exactly planning on house guests.”

“If you’re busy, we can always come back later.”

“Smart asses die first.”

She thought of escape. She could push him out of the way, rouse Jamie. No, not enough time. Besides, she was trapped, Randy between her and the doorway. She squeezed between the shower bin and toilet. Randy crouched down and secured her with the rope to the back of the toilet, running it around the porcelain base.

“Jamie! Jamie!” she screamed, hoping to wake him before Randy could reach him. It was their only chance.

Randy cinched the knot and tore out of bathroom. She couldn’t even wriggle. She heard a thump, something breaking. Jamie was conscious again. Fear gripped her insides, and she struggled to get free. Then she heard the gunshot. Every muscle collapsed and left her near fainting.

“Nooooo!!” The sound echoing against the walls.

Her body went cold and numb. Seconds ticked by, and she restrained herself from calling his name.

Jamie appeared around the corner, and she wanted to cry out with relief. Behind him Randy pushed Jamie forward into the bathroom, holding a gun to his head.

“Jamie, are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Are you okay?”

She was too busy looking for gunshot wounds on his body to answer with more than a nod. When she saw the blood on his head, panic shook her.
No, he can’t be shot in the head. He wouldn’t be standing there, wouldn’t be talking to me.

Randy tied Jamie up between the toilet and the cabinet, a space barely suitable for a child, much less a man of Jamie’s size. All the while Randy had the gun trained at Hallie to insure Jamie’s cooperation. In his eyes, she saw determination, anger, but he saw that gun pointed at her.

Randy tied the final knot. “Don’t you two look cozy?”

She glared at him, her fingers flexing, aching to scratch out his eyes.

“What do you want from us? We haven’t done anything to you.”

Randy rested the barrel of the pistol against his chin in a thoughtful way. “No, but you were going to do something to me, weren’t you? How did you know about the car and the truck? Who sent you here?”

She pressed her lips together, not wanting to satisfy his curiosity.

“You’re going to die anyway. Don’t you want me to know why you’re here?”

Hearing those words… “Nobody sent me here. I came on my own.”

“Hallie,” Jamie warned.

“I do want him to know why I came here. I know you’re Randy Vittone, and that you set up Alan Messino to die in your place after you robbed some banks. I know you killed Chris Copestakes because she knew the truth.”

Randy’s eyes widened, and his mouth hung open until he clamped it shut. “How the hell—”

“No, Randy, it’s how in Heaven I know. When you killed Chris, she went to Heaven and got a second chance. I’m Chris.”

Randy blinked hard. “No. You’re making this up, playing some head game because you think you can talk your way out of this.”

“I don’t care whether you believe it or not.”

“Where did we meet?”

“Cheech’s Pizza Parlor. I was with Toni and Jeff, and you joined us for sausage and anchovy pizza. You were born in Georgia, but your parents died, and you took off and never returned. That’s what you told me, anyway. I used to call your pals the Poker Putzes, because Mac, Bob and Kurt
were
putzes. The only personal thing you ever told me was that you hated rich people and wanted to be richer than them so you could rub their faces in it like they always did to you. You just never told me you were going to murder and rob your way there.”

Randy leaned back against the wall. “If I thought Heaven and hell existed, I’d almost believe you.”

“You’ll believe in hell soon enough,” she said.

He laughed, but his expression was still dumbstruck. “I was born in Alabama. My mother was a hooker and my father a bum who beat me for kicks. Mom decided that hooking was better than getting hit, so she left me with dear old Dad. I took off when I was fourteen and headed to Utah. I survived by robbing little old ladies and then convenience stores. Banks were the next logical step, except I panicked and shot a manager. When the cops got too close, I found someone who fit my type and let him die for me so I could get a new start.”

He leaned closer to Hallie, and she shrunk away. Continuing, he said, “But that didn’t work, because when I moved here, I ran out of money, and it was too tempting to pick up where I’d left off. I was good at it. So,
Chris
, would you have gone out with me if I’d told you my real life story?”

She backed away even more, ignoring his question. Dark and dangerous, that was what had attracted her to Randy. She hadn’t realized how dark and how dangerous.

Randy leaned back against the wall again. “You want to know what I’m going to do to you? I’ve been working this through since we left the junkyard.” He smiled in a sinister way. “I can’t take all the credit. I saw it on a television show. I’ve already turned on the gas. The police will think there was a leak, and poor Hallie happened to be over at my place when it blew. Think how much fun the town’ll have with that gossip.” He lifted a wallet. Jamie’s wallet. “Then off I go.”

Her heart pounded with fear and dread, but anger fueled her mouth. “No one’s going to believe that Jamie is you. They’ll test the remains for DNA.” The thought of it, investigators picking through their ashes, their
remains
, turned her stomach.

“Honey, this place will be an incinerator. There’s not going to be enough left to identify. Besides, there’ll be no reason to suspect otherwise. Your car will be here, along with my truck. I already told my buddies how I got the hot chick who’s working for me to come here and have lunch.” His mouth twisted into a leer. “How we got it on.”

“My people will track me here,” Jamie said through tight lips. “They’ll figure it out.”

“But they’re going to find your car in New Mexico. Hallie, or Chris, or whoever you are, you should have learned the first time to keep your nose out of other people’s business.”


Other people’s business?
You killed me! When I came here, I only knew that my death wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t until later that I remembered what you had done and figured out how you did it. You think I could walk away from that?”

He looked at her, speculating. “All I can say is, next time—if there is a next time—don’t come looking for me, because I’ll have an eye out for you.”

He walked out and closed the door, shutting them into the tiny space. She started shaking. No more talk. No more explaining, and begging wasn’t going to help.

“Jamie, he wasn’t lying about the gas. I can smell it! How can we get out of…”

“Shhh.”

He nodded toward the door. The knob was jiggling. After a few moments, it stopped. Footsteps led outside, and the door slammed shut. The crunch of his shoes on snow sounded outside, fading.

She strained to listen. “I haven’t heard his truck start. Wait, he said he was leaving it here. He’s probably going to walk to the junkyard to get my car.”

“Walk? In this weather?”

“I know this area. If he cuts through the woods, he can get there in no time. Then he’ll be back…” She took a stuttering breath. “I’m so sorry I got you into this.”

“Hush. You didn’t get me into anything. It was my choice to come here.”

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