Wicked Lies (50 page)

Savvy Dunbar entered a few minutes later and the discussion continued, but Stone didn’t learn much more. The doctor appeared embarrassed that Justice had somehow stolen his phone—probably because he’d left it in an unlocked car. When asked about his health, Zellman said he already had speech therapy scheduled and planned on returning to work early in the morning. Stone told him not to shut his cell phone service off; there was a chance that they could locate Justice by GPS. If he made any more calls, they could zero in on the killer, hopefully before he struck again.

Shaken, Zellman agreed.

Mrs. Zellman seemed a little calmer by the time they all left, but she vowed she was changing the locks on every door and having the gate to their estate fixed as soon as she could get a repairman out.

“Good idea,” Stone told her and only hoped it wasn’t too little, too late.

CHAPTER 39

S
isssttterrr!

Laura nearly dropped the thermometer she was holding for her patient. She’d let her guard down and Justice was calling her.

It’s gone, isn’t it? The evil incubus . . . you lossst it!

How does that feel, bitch? It’ssss gone!

There was a snarling sound of satisfaction in his hiss. Her knees nearly buckled. She closed her eyes and threw out her own taunt:
Come and get me, you sick freak. Just try.

And then she slammed up her mental wall. Fast. Hard. Before he could respond.

“Hey!” her patient said, a man who’d had his appendix removed the day before.

“Sorry.” She forced a smile just as the electronic thermometer beeped, showing that Mr. Greer’s temperature was perfectly normal. He glowered up at her as she gave him the good news, then demanded more ice in his water glass and a change on his menu, one he’d chosen the night before, when his pain meds had, apparently, colored his options.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she said, “but I can’t promise anything.”

How could Justice know that she wasn’t pregnant any longer?

Just how deep was her connection to him?

“Time to end it,” she muttered under her breath as she left fresh ice with Mr. Greer before heading to the nurses’ station. Sooner or later she’d have to come face-to-face with Justice, and that thought both terrified and galvanized her. She had to be ready, both mentally and physically strong.

Somehow she had to shake off the melancholy of losing her child and let anger burn through her, directed at her tormenter. But today . . . today she just felt sad and overwhelmed.

By the time that Laura was through with her double shift, she was ready to tumble into bed and never wake up. She needed to regroup, then somehow get the drop on Justice.

How much easier it would be if the police would catch him.

But she was losing faith in the authorities as the days since his escape wore on. Wherever he’d holed up, it was a dark, well-concealed hiding spot.

“He can’t hide forever,” she reminded herself as she clocked out.

Grabbing her purse from her locker, she headed toward the main doors of the building. Working in the hospital had helped take her mind off losing the baby and Justice’s attack and her conflicted emotions about Harrison Frost. Falling in love with him was definitely not on her agenda, but then neither had been getting pregnant, suffering a miscarriage, or fighting her mental and physical battles with a homicidal maniac.

A week ago, her life had seemed boring. In a rut. Predictable.

But now . . .

She clicked on her cell phone and saw that she had half a dozen messages, mostly from Harrison. She was about to phone him back when she rounded a corner and nearly ran into Carlita Solano heading the other direction. Carlita was carrying a patient intake packet but stopped short when she spied Laura. “Hey! You outta here?”

“Uh-huh.” Laura kept walking.

“That reporter, the guy who was here from the
Seaside Breeze,
he’s been waiting for you.”

It was amazing to Laura how Carlita’s nose could smell out gossip. Rarely did anything go on within the walls of Ocean Park that the nurse didn’t know about. Right now Carlita’s dark eyes flashed, as they always did when she sensed gossip. She fell into step with Laura as they passed a visitors’ lounge where several people were leafing through dog-eared magazines.

“Have you heard anything about Conrad?”

Laura shook her head. “Still comatose, from what I hear.” What she didn’t admit to was going to the ICU and checking the man’s vitals herself early in her shift. Conrad lay on the bed, eyes closed, tubes running in and out of his body, his heartbeat monitored by a computer screen.

“That’s what I heard, too. It’s all just so weird,” Carlita said. “It seems that every time I turn on the local news, I see Ocean Park on the screen. Or at least that reporter who’s been hanging out around here. Pauline What’s-her-name.”

“Kirby,” Laura supplied as she passed the admissions desk, where several patients, insurance cards and forms in hand, were seated in plastic chairs by a few strategically placed ficus trees while waiting to be admitted.

“Right. What a bitch.” Laura didn’t comment and Carlita asked, “So, what’s the deal with you and the guy from the
Breeze?
”

Laura shrugged. “He’s probably after a story,” she said and forced a smile she didn’t feel as she pushed through the doors just as Nurse Solano’s pager went off and she bustled away.

Harrison was parked next to her in the lot, near one of the security lamps. Gone was the good weather. A soft rain was falling, causing the lamp’s light to look a little fuzzy and creating a slick sheen over the pavement.

He climbed out of his car as she approached, and she felt a little jolt in her heart at the sight of him. His beleaguered jeans, T-shirt, and beat-up leather jacket, along with his scruffy hair and beard shadow, added to the I-don’t-give-a-damn allure. Something she’d thought she was immune to.

“Don’t you have a job or anything?” she asked as she approached him.

His smile was brief. “Doin’ it.”

“Hmmm.”

“Look, there’s a lot we need to talk about.”

She glanced back at the hospital and wondered if anyone, including Carlita Solano, was taking note of their conversation. “Not here. How about at my house? I’m really beat.”

“You know you can’t stay there.”

She didn’t want to hear that, but she knew he was right. “Then how about a five-star hotel, somewhere with room service, decadent desserts, and a Jacuzzi tub . . . ?” she suggested with a wan smile.

He laughed. “In your dreams.”

“Yeah, well . . .”

“I have an idea. A little B and B owned by a friend of mine in Astoria. He owes me a favor.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Laura noticed Byron striding out of the hospital. Her stomach did a nosedive. She wasn’t in the mood.

“Laura!” Byron called, loudly, zeroing in on her.

“Want me to get rid of him?” Harrison asked.

“He
is
a doctor here. Could be considered my boss, in a way.” When Harrison’s brows slammed together, she touched his arm. “I know,” she said, then reluctantly turned to meet her ex-husband halfway across the lot.

“I’m off duty,” she told him curtly.

“I know.” He seemed a little less hostile than before. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened at the house, about that maniac chasing you down, and I know I’ve been kind of rough on you lately.”

“Really.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, I know. A jerk, but I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Yeah, that’s what it is.”

He struggled not to argue further but said instead, “And the baby?”

“Oh, for the love of God. How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not pregnant! Seriously. Forget about any delusions you have. There is no baby!” Her heart cracked at those last words, and she felt a rush of tears, which she somehow managed to blink back.

Byron stared. “I almost believe you.”

Laura silently counted to ten, then left him to stalk back to her car and a waiting Harrison.

“What was that all about?” he asked.

“Another misunderstanding,” she bit out. She heard a car door slam and then a powerful engine roar to life. Byron was gunning his Corvette. A moment later he shifted into second before reaching the street, where he tapped his brakes, then sped onto the highway.

Harrison’s gaze followed Byron, too. “I can’t believe you were married to that guy.”

“I was young.”
And stupid. So easily and ridiculously impressed.
Clearing her throat, she said, “Let’s get back to you trying to convince me not to go home.”

He turned his attention to her again, and she noticed his hair starting to curl and darken in the mist. “I did a feature on the B and B when I first moved up here, and the owner got a lot of free publicity. He said I could stay anytime. I think this qualifies as anytime.”

She was so weary. So, so weary. Seeing her waver, he touched her shoulder as he reached for his phone with his other hand. “You’re gonna love it.”

She wasn’t so sure but climbed behind the wheel of her Subaru as he stood outside his Impala and made arrangements for the night.

“We’re set,” he said. “The name of the place is Heritage House. You want to follow me?” He gave her the address before climbing behind the wheel of his own car and starting the engine.

Like an automaton, she headed after him, north to Astoria. She hoped he didn’t have any thoughts of romance, because it just couldn’t happen. With a sigh, she said, “I’ll jump off that bridge when I come to it.”

I sneak down the stairs to the bait shop’s parking lot and drink in the scent of the sea. It’s foul here, rank with the scents of oil and dead shellfish and diesel, but still, there is a hint of brine to fill my lungs.

I wonder if the van will still work. Faded letters advertising Carter’s Bait Shop, along with a phone number and an image of a sexy mermaid, cover the driver’s side. The plates are expired, so I quickly switch them with those of a Toyota parked in the corner. The Toyota belongs to Carter’s daughter Carrie, but she leaves it whenever her boyfriend picks her up in his winched-up 4x4.

It’s a simple matter to change out the plates and hot-wire the van. It starts easily, which is good, and the gas gauge indicates the fuel tank is nearly a quarter full. Enough for tonight.

Slowly, not bothering with the headlights, I cruise out of the bait shop’s lot and up a short rise toward the highway that snakes along the coast.

I have business to attend to. . . .

James Ferguson stared in disbelief at his brother’s empty room.

He was gone? Seriously?

Mikey had really taken off?

James searched his brother’s room for the third time, then the garage and the family room and the whole rest of the house. He’d called Mikey’s phone a dozen times and left him messages as well as a kazillion texts. Desperate, he’d even called some of the dweeb’s friends, but no one copped to knowing where Mikey was.

“Great,” he growled as he flung open the slider door off the kitchen dining area and stepped onto the covered patio. Rain dripped down from the corrugated plastic roof to puddle around the edges of the concrete pad and soak the yard. Where the hell was that little jerkwad? Mom and Dad were due back in a couple nights and James was in charge and now that little freakoid was gone! James hadn’t seen him at all after school, and he’d thought maybe Mikey had cut out early with friends. After all it was the last week of classes . . . but . . .

“Shit! Fuck! Hell!”

James thought about the little jerk’s fascination for that psycho at the beach, the escaped whack job. Mikey couldn’t get enough info on that sick dude. He was really pushing James to drive over to the coast before their folks returned and . . . oh, son of a bitch! The douche bag had taken off on his own.

Standing on the back patio, looking into the wet night, his stomach already a rock-hard knot, he worked up the nerve to call Belinda Mathis. She was on his speed dial, though he never called, or hadn’t until right now. He hit the button and waited impatiently for her to answer. Just the thought that he was trying to contact her caused his palms to sweat. He thought of her pretty pixie-like face and incredible long hair. Then there was her tight ass and . . .

Her phone went to voice mail. He didn’t leave a message and texted instead:

does your sister know where my brother mike is?

There was a few second gap as the rain plopped steadily on the ground, and James noticed the neighbor’s Siamese cat skittering quickly across the top of the fence, only to look his way and hiss before gathering itself and jumping to the far side.

“Perfect!” As the testy cat disappeared, James’s phone chirped to indicate he was receiving a text.

Belinda Mathis’s phone number, along with her pretty face, appeared on the screen of his cell.

Her short reply was: k says at the beach she thought he was with you

James’s stomach dropped as he typed quickly, his fingers flying, his head pounding with about a million questions.

James: im at home how did he get to the beach

Belinda: dk

dk—Don’t know. Crap! If she didn’t know, who would?

James: when did he go

Belinda: k says maybe 2nite

“Shit!” he said aloud, but typed: thx

Belinda: tell him to call k

“Oh, sure that’s what I’m gonna do,” he said aloud as he texted Mikey again and felt another wash of embarrassment that the only way he could talk to the coolest girl in school was because of his dumb shit of a brother.

He curled his fist and jammed it into the metal post that supported the overhang.
Bam!
Pain erupted in his hand. Water splashed off the roof. There wasn’t so much as the tiniest dent in the post.

He knew what he had to do. If he didn’t get his brother back here, ASAP, Mom and Dad would kill them both!

And it would be the little creep’s fault. All Mikey’s goddamned fault!