Devin-2 (18 page)

“You’ll meet me at the old house in two hours or I kill this boss man of yours. And you’ll come alone and not be late, Catalina. And if you tell anyone, you both die. Do I make myself clear, bitch?”

Devin wanted to scream at her not to come, that he was going to kill Devin anyway, but he could no nothing more than groan at the gag that Frey had returned to his mouth after he took the phone back.

“She’ll come. She knows better than to defy me again. I’m as near her daddy as she’ll ever get. She tried it once and I’ll not let her get by with that again.

Stupid cunt. And I was willing to break her into the saddle even knowing how fucking ugly she was. Ungrateful, that’s what she is, ungrateful. Well, she’s gonna pay now, by damn. Gonna pay big time. I’m gonna get her with child so I can have it to break in too. Yes, sir, gotta keep it in the family if you want it done right.”

Devin thought he was going to be sick. This man acted as if having sex with his children was his responsibility, not a sick, twisted from of child abuse. Small wonder Veronica ran away. Devin’s heart hurt for the little girl she had been and he knew he had to figure out some way to protect her. Even if it cost him his own life.

The appointment had been set up to help Mr. Albert finalize some paper work for his children. He had seemed sane, normal even. And when Devin had given Mr. Albert all he could in information concerning the situation, Devin stood and offered the man his hand. He had taken Devin’s hand, telling him goodbye, then slipped a cuff over his wrist. At the moment the lock clicked into place, Frey had backhanded Devin across the face with his hand. Before Devin could react, both his hands were cuffed behind him and he was down on the floor bleeding from his lip and tongue where he had bitten it.

After Frey got off the phone with Veronica, he started pacing the room, even walking though Caroline’s blood as if she was nothing, not even a stain on the rug. Devin wanted to talk to Veronica. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her one more time before he died.

“You know that morning if’n I hadn’t come back for my hat, she’d be dead now? Stupid girl tried to off herself instead of just giving into me—when she knew damn good and well that I always get what I want. Didn’t even know she knew there was a gun in the house. But she always was too big for her britches, always snooping around instead of keeping the house up like she should have been. Yeap, I was gonna use the toilet and there she was, a pointing that big old thirty-eight of my pappy’s to her head. Thought she was shooting me at first when it went off. That’s what made me so mad at her. Nerve of her! I’ma thinking, no way, she can’t be trying and shoot her own daddy. Then I seed that I’d bumped her like and the bullet only grazed her.” Albert paced some more.

“Still, had to teach her a lesson, didn’t I? Gotta say, though, it’s a good thing my sweet Margo comed in when she did. Hell of a mess, hell of a mess. Blood everywhere even though she had put down them towels. Still made a mess. Took me near an hour to clean it up too. Couldn’t even count on her momma to help, the bitch, her laying up there all pickled like she always was. I can tell you I was none too happy about that either. Then I had to throw all them towels out too.

Stupid girl. But I beat her too hard and weren’t no way them nosey doctors was gonna believe that she fell this time. No siree. Had to come up with a plan, I did.

Margo comed up with the robbery and Holly, the other precious light of my life, God rest her soul, said it would make people think she was a hero and if she got anything for it, they’d keep it because she wouldn’t know what to do with pretty things. Smart girls, those two. But they had it right. Catalina weren’t pretty like them.”

Devin gagged on the rag in his mouth. Frey had beaten his little girl nearly to death because rather than subject herself to having sex with her father, she tried to kill herself. Catalina, Devin’s Veronica, had preferred death over him. No wonder Veronica was afraid to trust people. She had not been able to trust the one man above all others who should have been there for her.

When Devin had told him about the cell phone, it took him nearly twenty minutes to explain to Frey what his “Catalina” needed one of them portable phones for. Devin had not told Frey that he was in love with Ronnie. He was reasonably sure that the man would hurt her worse for the knowledge. When Ronnie had answered the cell, Devin was both relieved and terrified for her.

It was nearly an hour later when Devin and Frey were headed out of the building, taking the elevator down to the basement garage to where Devin had parked his car. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen once they got there, but he was sure it was not going to end well for him. Devin had been around enough criminals to know you did not give away the ending of the story to someone without thinking their victims were not going to be around to tell it to someone else. This had the “talking gunman syndrome” written all over it.

He heard the sirens as soon as they stepped out of the elevator. He hoped that Frey thought they were normal sounds of the big city and not for him.

Devin’s hopes for getting out of this alive were dashed as soon as they got to the car. After another hard blow to the head, Frey explained what his plans were for both him and Veronica.

“You’re gonna die, you know that, don’tcha? Can’t leave around no witnesses to this. I got me some babies to make. Now that I seen what a pretty little thing Catalina turned out to be, well, it won’t be so hard for me to fuck her.

Yeah, that was right nice of that photographer to put her pitcher in the paper. It was a nice one of her all dressed up in that dress. Called her Veronica Frey. But I knowed she was my little girl Catalina. Can’t mistake those eyes. Bruises is what they always reminded me of—she sure had enough of them to compare them to.” Frey actually chuckled at his own sick joke. “But you’ve been real helpful, I gotta tell ya. Well, buddy, you’re gonna drive me to the house, then I’ma gonna kill you dead. Yep, can’t leave no witnesses.”

Devin started the little car he had driven to work today wondering if he could crash it. His luck, all he would do is kill himself and Veronica would still be raped. When he reached to put his buckle on, he dialed his cell phone. He didn’t know who he had called, but figured any of the numbers he had programmed in the thing would be better than dying alone.

~~~

Ronnie walked out of the restaurant and hailed a cab. She was numb. Her father had Devin and she knew he would hurt him, if he hadn’t already.

Knowing this, knowing what her father was capable of, made Ronnie wish she had had better aim all those years ago.

Ronnie would never be sure how Ben had figured it out. But as soon as Ronnie heard her father’s voice, she became six again and he was standing over her with his fist doubled up. She thought she had whimpered, but wasn’t sure.

Only now could she remember what her father had said to her. Just the sound of his voice made everything around her feel tainted and dirty, like he had sucked the very life out of all that he touched or saw.

Ronnie was to go to their old house in Nashport and meet him there. Devin, hopefully, would be with him and alive. And she only had two hours to get there. She would be lucky if she made it, but she would die trying. She had to save the man she loved.

Mrs. Parker seemed as solid as a rock. She and Ben planned and told her things would be all right, that she and Devin would both be fine. Ronnie wasn’t so sure. She knew firsthand what sort of man her father was and he was not reasonable. Ronnie wasn’t even sure if he had ever been sane, and wondered if he had just gotten crazier over the years.

“Devin won’t die. I won’t allow it and you won’t either, do you hear me?

You go there and kill this bastard and come back to us,” Ben had said as he hugged her to him.

Ronnie could hear him make some phone calls, but she wasn’t sure of all of them. Ronnie knew Ben had called the police and then Austin, but that was about all. Captain Tucker of the Columbus Police Force had also been informed.

All Ronnie could think was, if Nickolas Grant didn’t hate her before, he would now for sure.

“You’ll need money. Take a cab. It’ll be safer than you driving right now.

Give me the address and we’ll have someone there to rescue you both in the light of something going wrong.” Ronnie started to cry. It was going to go wrong. It had already gone so very wrong.

Margaret took all the money she had in her wallet and stuffed it into Ronnie’s hands. Then she took all the money Ben had as well and handed it to her. Ronnie had a fleeting thought that the Grants were rich, but didn’t dwell on it too much. It was just another random thought that popped into her head along with thoughts of their dinner being cold. There were so many right now, she wasn’t sure what to focus on and what not to. Margaret also took her handgun out of her purse and handed it to Ronnie as well.

“You’ll need this. I know that you already have one, but most men that I’ve dealt with don’t think of women carrying two or more weapons. Let him find this one, and you keep yours close. And, Ronnie, I want you to come back to us.

I’ve grown quite fond of your sassy mouth.”

Ronnie gave them the address and told Margaret that she didn’t know if it would have much in the way of cell service, as it was really off the beaten path.

“I’ve not been there in ages, not since I was a child. I don’t even know...I didn’t know he’d take Devin. I’m so sorry, so very sorry. I don’t want him hurt, Mrs. Parker. You have to know that, for as much as we fight; I would never want him harmed. I love the arrogant ass.”

“Don’t you worry anything about that. It’ll work out, you’ll see. You’re going to be just fine. Of course you didn’t know he’d take Devin. Insane people like him are unpredictable and stupid. He’ll make a mistake and that’s when it will be all over. This phone is equipped with GPS and as long as you don’t take the battery out, the police will be able to track you.”

“They broke down the office door at Devin’s firm,” Ben told them as he closed his phone. “Poor Caroline Justice is dead and there was no sign of Devin.

Nickolas is headed to the basement with the police. He said to tell you that you keep your head together and you’ll both be fine. He also told me to tell you that he wants you to bring his brother home. He said that he would make it up to you as soon as this is over.” Ben hugged her again, telling her that this one, this hug, was from Austin and that he loved her too. They were in the managers of the restaurant’s office and Ronnie couldn’t remember how they had accomplished that either. She was just beginning to realize that money could make a great many things happen.

Ronnie nearly collapsed from the information about Mrs. Justice. She had liked the woman and felt responsible for her death. That poor woman had not deserved this; no one did. Tears pooled in Ronnie’s eyes when she thought of her needless death.

“Now you listen here, young lady. You stay strong and come back with Devin. I don’t want to lose you. You owe me some money and I plan to get it back. Now go, be safe.” Margaret told her with a little shake.

Ronnie left the restaurant with just over eight hundred dollars in her pocket and was an hour into her ride now when she thought about hiding the second gun. She put it into the front of her jeans. The metal was cold, but soon warmed against her bare skin.

They were making great time, she thought. When the cabbie had balked at the address when they got closer, she showed him the cash she had and he decided to take her there despite the area and the dark streets.

The town had barely been a wide spot in the road when she was little, but still, the memories flooded her mind. The library looked closed down and the one or two trailers along the main street were not even lit very well. The houses were, for the most part, boarded up. And those that weren’t had broken out windows, and grass as high as she stood was dried and swaying in the front yard. The snow that had fallen the night before had not been removed from the road and there wasn’t a sign of lights anywhere the closer they got to her old home.

When the cab driver turned where she told him to, she knew she was less than five minutes from her first death. Ronnie could only hope that she could save Devin before she had her second one, for she had no doubt she was here to die.

Ronnie knew that her father had beaten her that day she had tried to kill herself. Her shooting herself in the head would not cause the sort of damage that had been done to her. Broken bodies like hers had been was something she was very familiar with and could guess what had happened. Once she was awake more, she’d listened as they explained what had happened to her.

Her jaw had been broken in three different places and had been wired shut.

The doctor said he was sure that at least one of the breaks was a reinjure of something that had happened before and he had asked her how it had happened.

Of course, Ronnie had said nothing. Her left arm was broken at both the wrist and the humerus. Eight ribs were broken and one of them had punctured her lung. Her pelvis had been fractured and both her legs had been broken in several places. She was told that it looked as if the robber had stomped on her several times—he must have been very angry at her for messing up his plans, the doctor had said. Ronnie was sure he had been. The gunshot wound to her head perplexed them all, but only she and her father knew the truth behind it and it had depressed her for many years that she had failed even herself.

When the driver finally stopped a mile from the house, she gave him the money she had left and asked him to please wait. As soon as he rolled up the window, he took off. Not that she could blame him. It was scary to her too. She started walking toward the house in the semi-dark, having only the moon to guide her and her horrible memories.

Devin’s car was parked out front of the house and her father was leaning against it smoking a cigarette. Damned man couldn’t die from cancer, could he?

she thought. From what she could see of the house, it was near ruin. There was very little glass in the upper windows and the windows at the bottom, what there was of them, was dirty. With the little light shining though the house from the moon, she could see that there was grass and weeds growing through the porch boards. At one time, there had been large potted flowers in the summer and bright Christmas lights all along the windows and door for her sisters’