Dead Women Tell No Lies (38 page)

“Are we almost to Luke?” How close were they? All she saw were trees and road.

“Don’t worry. I carry one of those instant air cans in my trunk. If needed, we’ll call Luke to pick us up, or at the worst, we’ll walk. We’re about two miles away. I see a place to pull off.” He glided onto an overgrown path in the woods.

The goose bumps on her arms rose and cringed. “Why didn’t you park on the shoulder?”

“Did you see how narrow the edge is? All we need is a teenager speeding around the curve, and I’d be a dead man.” He smiled. “I’ll get you to Luke.”

He grabbed the keys and climbed out of his car. His footsteps crunched on gravel. The tree branches pressed against her window, and the overgrown trail narrowed and disappeared into the forest. The memory of the path at The Ledges filled her mind. The ache in her head warned of images pushing into her mind. Images she didn’t want.

She grabbed her purse and jumped out of the car. The vision powered over her. She bent toward the passenger door, fighting the vision.

Footsteps crunched against the gravel “He’s coming.” Dahlia ran across the boulder and searched the path. Then she saw him emerging from the woods. He was dressed in work boots and a brown jacket and as he strode forward he lifted his head and she smiled at him.

“Dean! I’ve been waiting for you.”

Dean! Panic sunk its sharp teeth into Rose.

From the rear came the whine of the trunk flipping open. “Rose, I need an extra pair of hands,” he called. “It’s worse than I expected.”

She shot a glance at the ignition. He’d taken the keys.

“Rose, are you coming?”

Run
, Dahlia whispered.

Rose whipped around and fled.

“What are you doing? Rose, come back. You’ll get lost.”

The sound of his thudding footsteps told her he was in pursuit. Adrenaline gave her a burst of speed. A whoosh of small barbs shot past her arm. She screamed and stumbled over a downed tree. The phone fell from her hand, but she stayed on her feet.
He had a taser!

She sprinted forward. Branches scratched her face, grabbed her arms like tentacles stretching out of the woods.

My gun!
She yanked the weapon from her pocket and rounded a curve. The directions to fire scrolled through her brain as she performed each step. Ready, she whirled around to surprise him and struggled to control her breathing.

His heavy footsteps crashed louder through the underbrush. He’d catch up in seconds. Perspiration soaked her clothes and burned her eyes. She gripped the firearm with both hands. Hold Steady. Any second he’d round the bend.

His brown jacket! She gasped and squeezed the trigger. The gunshot echoed as he came into full view. Astonishment crossed his face. “You shot me?” His hand went to his earlobe, now dripping blood.

She’d fired too soon, too high.

“You bitch.” He lunged forward.

“No.” She spun around and fled. The land pitched downward. She skidded. She slowed to regain her footing. She had to get ahead. Take a stand. Shoot again. Aim lower. Wait longer for her target. She leaped away from the trail, stumbled over a root, recovered and felt a pulsation. A thousand hits pricked her funny bone, shot through her body. Her muscles went rigid. She tumbled toward the ground.

She couldn’t put out her hands to stop. The gun flew from her fingers. The earth rushed up and smacked her face, her chest and legs. Dirt tunneled between her lips. Pain vibrated through her body. She hit the ground and lay on the edge of a rise. Below the river flowed. Its current twisted and surged. Terror pricked every nerve. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t yell. Dean’s boots thudded toward her.

Chapter 30

The Staties and the Ledgeview Police Department swarmed over the farmhouse and yard. Luke stood on the edge of the yellow taped area.

“The place belongs to a Homer Holmes,” Conroy reported, closing up his cell phone and crossing the yard to Lennox. “I spoke to him. He bought the property a year ago to convert into an auto salvage business, but the renovations cost more than he planned. His idea stalled, and he hasn’t been able to raise cash to get the project off the ground.”

“Check his background yet?”

“Guy comes up clean. His real estate agent can give us the name of the previous owner.”

“Yeah, who’s the realtor?”

“Dean Drown is listed. Holmes said the plow took down the sign and it hadn’t been put up again.”

Dean?

“Didn’t you go to school with his son?”

Pieces spun around in Lennox’s mind:
Dean, realtor for the farm, Dahlia’s landlord, Ski, North Conway, Ledgeview, murders.

Luke needed to speak to Dean right away. “Send a squad car over to the Drown house and one to his real estate office. I want the former owner’s name and bring Dean Drown here.”

“I’ll send someone from the station over.” He marched off.

Luke pushed Rose’s number and heard her voicemail. He left a short message and called Frank. “Hey, do me a favor. Find Rose and stick to her.”

“I’m out the door.”

“Call me as soon as you’re with her. She’s not answering her phone.” Luke stuffed his phone in his pocket and turned to the uniform approaching him.

“The tow truck driver wants to talk to you about hauling the car to the state lab.”

Luke nodded and followed him to the barn where he spoke to the driver. Five minutes later, Dahlia’s car was headed to the state lab. His phone rang. Glancing at the number, he distanced himself from the searchers.

“Frank, are you at Rose’s?”

“She’s not around. She didn’t answer her buzzer or door. I helped myself inside, and the apartment is empty. I’m sitting in the parking lot next to her car.”

Where was she? “Go to Drown’s Real Estate and call me if Dean’s at his office. Then ask Tia at her store if she’s seen Rose and stop by the library. She could be at either place.” Where else would she go?

“I’m on my way.”

“Call when you find her.” He hit the end button. A few minutes later, the phone went off.

“Luke, I called the library and Tia’s, no sign of Rose. I’ll drive by and verify she’s not at either place.”

Luke hung up and called the station to put out an APB for Rose Blue. Think. Think. She might go to her store in Vermont. It was a long shot. He hit the numbers and spoke to a Brattleboro Detective who promised to go straight to the boutique and would let him know if Rose was there. When Luke finished, he notified Conroy he was in charge.

Conroy raised his brows. “Taking a lunch break?”

Luke didn’t bother to answer. He’d swing through Ledgeview and search himself. Within minutes, he was in Old Charger and bumping over the frost heaves. A woman in a long black coat dashed out from the trees. He slammed on the brakes and yanked the steering wheel to the right. His car skidded and halted on the dirt shoulder.

Rose? He blew out a breath of relief. It couldn’t be her. Where’d the woman go? He inspected the area. No one was in sight. His heartbeat slowed to normal. Why was she in the middle of nowhere crossing the road? Why had she run off into the woods? He rolled down his window and yelled, “Hello? You okay? Rose?” Luke yelled. A crow flew overhead and cawed loudly.

The woman’s profile reminded him of Rose, but she was blonder. Dahlia. It couldn’t be. He stepped on the gas. His tires spun with a loud whine, and his engine strained. “Come on, Charger.” The car rocked back into the rut.

Hell, he was stuck. Welcome to mud season. He leaned out the window. “Dahlia!”

His phone rang. Lennox grabbed it.

The Chief’s voice shouted through the receiver into his ear. “I just suffered through a two hour meeting with the Mayor, and we’re taking a new course, one of action”

“I found Dahlia Blue’s car near The Ledges. It’s on the way to the state lab.”

“I know. Conroy left me a message. Put him in charge. We need to talk. Be here in twenty minutes.”

Luke hung up. He’d have to call a uniform from the farm to pick him up and drive him to his meeting; he’d be late.

The ting of his phone alerted him to a text. Now what? With his luck, it was the Chief changing his mind and firing him on the spot.

Rose lay on the ground. Dean paused and she heard the zip of the backpack.
Just like Dahlia. This is how I die.

Dean bent and bound Rose’s hands and feet with gray tape, round and round.

Terror flooded her chest. The tape covered her mouth and threatened to suffocate her as it climbed toward her nostrils.

Breathe. Keep breathing.

His hand stroked her hair. “You’re as pretty as your sister. She came willingly to The Ledges.” He grinned, and then, his smile faded. “This isn’t right. We’re in the wrong place.”

He grabbed her shoulders. “Get up. Up.”

He was going to shove her down the hill into the river below. Her throat closed up. She concentrated on breathing through the prickles of terror.

Instead, he removed the pack he was wearing and slung it over his shoulder. Then he heaved her over his back. The coppery odor of blood on his shirt filled her nose. He started off.

She forced herself to focus on the trail, searching for anything familiar. He continued parallel to the river, and the truth smacked her. Dean was taking her to The Ledges.

Minutes passed. She moved her fingers. Control over her body was returning. She squirmed but wriggling did nothing to slow Dean on his death march.
Dahlia, help me. Please.

He broke through the trees and crunched across the boulders of The Ledges. The sound of the river grew until the flow roared in her head. He paused and tossed her to the ground with a grunt, knocking out her breath. She was in the place of her visions, her nightmares.

He opened the pack and crouched down in front of her. Reaching inside the knapsack, he dug out a knife. He drew it across his thumb, and red bubbled out. “Nice.”

She shoved her heels into the ground and managed to push herself a few inches.

“Now, Rose, be good.” His mouth twisted into a smile, and he ran a hand over her breast.

Her cry came out muffled.

He bent and licked her flesh beneath her chin. She wanted to scream.

“So delicious. I loved watching you. Sometimes I believed you were a mirage, and you were Dahlia who survived to trick me. You’re not her, are you? You’re not playing games with me?” His hand tightened on a clump of her hair and yanked. “Are you?”

She shook her head, unable to drag her gaze from the long blade in his hand. Fright shook her body.
Stay focused. Get ready. Block. Duck the knife.

He hummed a little song. “Do you know those words? Double your pleasure. Double your fun with Rosie Blue, Dahlia Blue. They are the one.”

We are one
, Dahlia’s voice whispered.

The point of the knife aimed for her throat. Rose couldn’t stop her trembling.

“Answer me. Have you heard the song?”

The tip pressed into her skin, pinching, promising more pain. She shook her head.

“We’ll do it a little different this time.” He raised the knife to her mouth.

He wanted to cut off her lips! Rose flinched and dug in her heels to shove away.

He pressed his knee against her chest, crushing her into the stone. “Your generation knows nothing about fun.” He slit the tape across her mouth. “Go ahead and scream. Dahlia couldn’t, and I missed the pleasure. I won’t this time.” His cold smile sent shivers fleeing up her spine. “We’ll have lots of private time.”

She closed her eyes.
Dahlia! Gram! Luke! Oh, Luke, I’m sorry.

“That’s right. Say your prayers before we have a little fun. God can’t save you.” He ran the side of the cold knife down her cheek, over her neck and to the top of her blouse. He licked his lips as he opened her jacket, slit open her blouse and the front of her bra. She closed her eyes again and felt his calloused hands roam over her body.

She tried to slow her gasps, grab control.

He stopped and sat back on his haunches. “Don’t like it? Think you’re too good for everyone? Your sister was the same way.”

Anger and panic twisted inside of her.

“But,” he added, his eyes gleamed with coldness, “in the end she changed her mind. In fact, she told me, incest was the best.”

What? Think about escape. The knife was resting on the ground. Could she grab it with her teeth? Think.

The slap across her face stunned more than hurt.

“Listen when I speak to you. I’m your father. That’s why Dahlia came to Ledgeview. That’s why she loved me. And, I taught her things no one else did or could.”

Father? Dean was their father? She searched his face, searching for a resemblance, some sign. Where was it?

He laughed. “Kiss your daddy.”

He leaned toward her, his lips open.

His hot breath hit her face. She sucked in her cheeks and spit.

Her salvia hit him between the eyes. A big glob dangled from his nose.