All Murders Final! (23 page)

Chapter 42

I dropped the carton of milk, and its contents flowed out onto the floor. Some of the photos were from my missing photo album, and some must have been printed from my computer, the one that had been stolen. My mind said,
Run
, but my legs weren't on board with that thought. They felt like concrete pilings reaching deep into the earth and anchoring me to stare in horror at the pictures.

“I hope you're going to clean that up,” Ryan said. I turned. He stood in the doorway to the kitchen, blocking my exit. “That's what girlfriends do.”

“I'm not your girlfriend.” My voice came out low and mean. And scared. So very scared.

“Yes you are. I sent you gifts. Things I knew you loved.” He moved into the kitchen, hands behind his back, and stood beside me. I tried not to shrink away. Not to show any fear. But my legs, which had felt like concrete, now felt like dust. “You wore the necklace I sent you everywhere. My love.”

Ryan had no idea what love was. No idea.

“It wasn't Hennessy? None of it?” And really that made more sense. Ryan would have been the one to overhear me talking to friends or the DiNapolis about things I loved. The thought made me ill.

“I'm the one who knows you, Sarah. Not Hennessy or Seth or CJ.” He brought his hands out from behind his back. In one hand was my aqua sweater, but in the other was a hunting knife just like the one that had been stuck in my tire. “See? I even have your favorite sweater, in case you get cold.” He put it to his cheek and breathed in. “It smells like you.”

I was cold. I was freezing, but no sweater could warm me up. I gestured toward the milk on the floor. “I'll clean this up, Ryan.” It would give me precious minutes to figure a way out of here. “You're right that's what I should do for you. And then I'll make you a sandwich so you can rest.”

“I'm not tired, Sarah. Not at all.” Ryan smiled at me as he put the knife and the sweater on the counter beside him. He moved back and leaned against the counter. He pulled a stun gun out of his pocket and put it next to the knife.

“Why didn't you just ask me out?”

He looked startled at the question. “Because girls want to be pursued. To feel cherished.”

I hid my revulsion by looking around the kitchen. It had one doorway and a small window over the sink. If it were an open kitchen, I might have been able to vault over the counter and into another room.
Fat chance.
I wasn't exactly athletic, but at least it would have given me some hope.

“Where are your paper towels?” I asked. Ryan pointed to the counter behind me. I ripped some towels off the roll and scanned the counter for weapons. No knives out on the counter or a rolling pin or anything besides the damn paper towels. I paused in front of the window, hoping someone would notice the fear on my face. The Magda Toilet Cream jar Ryan bought from me at the February Blues Sale sat on the sill. He'd bought it for me.

Ryan yanked me by the hair away from the window. I screamed as loud and as long as I could. He slapped me and pulled down the shade. “What are you doing?”

“I just wanted to look at the view.” Which neither of us believed, because the window looked over the parking lot. I held my hand to my cheek. “You don't have to hurt me.”

Ryan pointed to the bruise on his temple. “You hurt me yesterday.”

That meant Ryan had tried to kidnap me yesterday in Bedford, and I was in worse trouble than I could imagine. He went back over by his stun gun. His casual pose against the counter belied the tension filling the kitchen. I squatted by the milk, making sure to face him, and started to sop it up.

Footsteps pounded from either end of the apartment. Someone else was here. Ryan whipped his head to the left, grabbing the stun gun. I launched myself at his knee and rammed it with my head. He howled in pain as I heard a sickening pop. He grabbed at my hair, but I scrambled out of the way and into the hall. A man in a black ski mask grabbed me and hustled me to the front door. Another ski-masked man slipped into the kitchen. Instead of letting me leave the apartment, the man who had grabbed me trapped me in the corner.

Mike pulled off the ski mask, his eyes blue ice. “The police will be here in minutes. We weren't here.”

Another howl came from the kitchen.

“Ryan's being told to go with whatever story you choose to tell the police,” Mike said.

“How did you know?” I asked him.

“Hennessy's story didn't add up. We decided to keep an eye out.”

I wondered if Seth had anything to do with that. If that was who was in the kitchen. How else would Mike know what Hennessy's story was? “Thank you.”

Mike gave a short nod. “Didn't know I was going to end up in the guardian angel business.” He waited a few more seconds, blocking my view of the kitchen and hall. Then he moved in even closer and lowered his voice. “You can't ever tell anyone I was here. Last night or now. That's the price of doing business with me. That's what you owe me.” Then he chucked me under the chin and went out the back.

I braced myself and peeked in the kitchen. Whoever had been with him was gone. Ryan sat on the floor. Sweat poured off his face, and his knee was at an odd angle. My stomach twisted.

“All I ever did was love you,” he said. “I didn't want anyone to hurt you.”

Someone pounded on the front door. “Open up. Police.”

I hurried to the door and flung it open. Two officers stood there. I pointed them to the kitchen. “Call an ambulance.”

Pellner ran up the walk. “Are you okay?”

I started shaking.

Pellner escorted me to his patrol car and we both climbed in. “What happened after you left the hospital?”

I filled him in briefly.

“You rammed his knee with your head?”

“Yes. I think I dislocated it. Ryan's knee.” Or I had just hurt him, and the guy in the kitchen had taken care of the rest.

“I always knew you were hardheaded. Are you okay?”

“My neck's sore. My head aches.”

Pellner pulled out of the space and flipped on the lights and sirens. “I'm taking you to the hospital.”

“I'll be fine. Just take me home.”

“Not this time. Chuck would kill me. When we got the call, Awesome had to physically restrain him to keep Chuck from ripping out his IV and coming over here.”

CJ.
My eyes filled with tears. At least this way I'd see him faster. Any other time I might have thought it was fun riding in a police car, flying down the streets, watching people pull over or not, as the case may be. While I didn't want to ruin Pellner's concentration, I had questions.

“So is Hennessy innocent?”

“Up to her neck in a stolen goods ring. But according to her, Ryan killed Margaret and Juanita out of some warped love for you. He seemed to go after people he thought had hurt you. She said he had a list.”

“Why didn't she report it? Why did she help him?”

“Ryan found out about the burglary ring while he was working over at her store. He was blackmailing her. And she just kept getting in deeper and deeper, trying to save her business and reputation.” He slowed at an intersection, made sure it was clear, and floored it again. “She swears she didn't know about the murders or realize what he would do to you or CJ until last night.”

“What about Frieda? Was she part of the burglary ring?”

“Not as far as we can tell. She's an angry old woman but not a criminal.”

I thought about the gifts, the creepy photos, and all the threats. “I asked Ryan why he didn't just ask me out. He said women wanted to be pursued.” I shook my head. “I don't get it. He thought he loved me, but then he'd get very angry, especially if I was out with Seth. Angry enough to send threats and stab my tire. But he never acted like that in front of me. Not once. I thought we were buddies.” At least it hadn't been James. I knew something was going on with him, but thankfully, not this.

Pellner glanced over at me. “Don't try to figure it out. His brain works differently than ours. And don't blame yourself.”

But how could I not?

* * *

I'd been propped up on a hospital bed for a few minutes, sipping a Sprite and waiting for my turn to be scanned and probed. I was low on the totem pole, considering I had no visible injuries or outward signs of distress. I heard a commotion in the hall, loud voices, protests. CJ burst in, toting an IV and followed by a nurse, who was berating him, Awesome, and Pellner.

CJ looked at Pellner, Awesome, and the nurse. “Clear out.” He used his commander's voice, the one he'd occasionally used on his troops. It brooked no nonsense. The nurse, after one last protest, left with Pellner and Awesome. CJ eased into the chair by my bed and took my hand. He looked tired but better than he had earlier this morning. A chill settled on me. It was probably stress, but it felt like the same kind of chill I'd felt that day in Jerusha's room at the Wayside Inn. She had had a twisted love story, with her waiting, waiting, waiting for love.

CJ turned to me. “Pellner told me what you said.”

I'd told Pellner a lot of things in the past twenty-four hours, a lot of it lies, and I wasn't sure what specific thing CJ was talking about, so I kept quiet.

“He heard you tell me that you wouldn't let me die a lonely old man.”

Ah, that.
I nodded, wincing only a little when I did.

“Did you mean it?”

Love.
It was so complicated. Ryan's version was a warped, sick one. I thought about Jerusha again. How she'd waited for her lover to return, when the right guy might have been there for her the whole time and she just hadn't realized it, so she'd died alone. Maybe that was what she'd been trying to tell me that day in her room. I thought about Seth. He was fun and charming. I liked him. A lot. But I loved CJ. Warmth filled my heart—the chill disappeared.

Then I thought about Mike. Starting a new relationship with CJ meant starting out by lying to CJ. I studied him, his familiar pale blue eyes, the sturdy jaw. I saw past all that to a man who didn't deserve to die alone.

“I did mean it, CJ. Every word.”

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Copyright © 2016 by Sherry Harris

 

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