Dying To Marry (26 page)

Authors: Janelle Taylor

BOOK: Dying To Marry

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Inside job. Inside job. Inside job.

The words echoed in Jake's head. They'd been echoing all night long. Unless the psycho they were dealing with was Lizzie herself or Gayle or Felicia or Holly, Jake couldn't see how the person had managed half of what he or she had accomplished.

Had Holly attacked herself in the park? Had Flea struck herself with a brick-sized stone? Had Gayleâ

Nothing terrible had happened to Gayle. Her car had been keyed weeks ago, and her boss had received that vile letter about her, but she could have done both herself to include herself among the victims.

Lizzie, Holly, and Felicia had all been viciously attacked.

Gayle was the only one who had not.

But Gayle was one of Lizzie's best friends. Granted, Jake didn't know her all that well, but his gut refused to believe what was going around in circles in his head.

She's not the one
, his cop's instinct seemed to say.

Then who, dammit!

He got out of bed, took a fast shower and threw on clothes. He had to talk to Holly. Had to talk out this Gayle theory, no matter how distasteful.

Perhaps she was secretly in love with Dylan.

You've got it wrong
, every fiber of his being screamed.
You're barking up the wrong tree
.

As he grabbed his keys and headed for the front door, he knew that there was something he wasn't thinking of, something he couldn't focus his thoughts on. The culprit was right under his nose, that much he knew for sure.

So if not Gayle, then who?

He unlocked the door, but it wouldn't open.

That's weird,
he thought, yanking on the doorknob. The door wouldn't open.

He grabbed his telephone. It was dead. That was weird. His cell phone was also dead, despite the fact that he'd charged it last night.

What the hell?

Panic rose. Six flights up, there was no way out except through the door. And someone had made sure he couldn't get through itâor call anyone.

“Not too pretty now, are you?” Flea asked Lizzie, cutting another clump of her beautiful blond curls. “You are hideous. Now you're the kind of girl who'd get invited to a dance as a dare.”

“FleâFelicia,” Holly said, her knees trembling. “Youâ”

“Holly,” Flea said, holding a point of the scissors to Lizzie's throat. “If you keep talking, if you say one more word, in fact, I will jam this into your ugly cousin's throat.”

Oh, God
, Holly thought, her mind racing.
What can I do? I have to do something. Out-think her. Think, Holly, think!

Lizzie looked absolutely terrified. She was crying and shaking.

“Poor, poor, ugly Lizzie,” Flea said. “Too bad Dylan won't want to marry you now. Not when he sees you like this.” Flea's eyes seemed to light with an idea. Then she began slowly unraveling the black scarf from her neck. Holly hadn't realized how long the scarf wasâthere seemed to be yards of material.

Flea's bare neck was just visible in the dim light. Holly had never before seen the scars on Flea's neck. They were large patches from skin grafts.

Lost in her own world, Flea put down the scissors and ran her fingers over the scarf. She moved behind Lizzie and wrapped the scarf around Lizzie's neck.

Oh, God, Flea
, Holly thought.
Please don't let her hurt Lizzie. Please!

Flea continued wrapping.

Now,
Holly ordered herself. Now was the time. When Flea was lost in her own world.
Act now!

Her eyes on the scissors and knife on the table, Holly realized she had this one opportunity to save Lizzie'sâand her ownâlife.

She lunged.

But Flea was too fast. In the blink of an eye she had the knife in one hand and the scissors in the other. Flea raised the knife high in the air and turned in one motion to strike at Lizzie's neck.

“No!” Holly screamed.

The sound of gunfire split the air, and Flea fell to the ground.

Dazed, Holly looked up to the stairs, and there were Jake and Dylan behind two uniformed police officers, their guns drawn.

“Noooo!” Flea screamed. She coughed, blood sputtering out her mouth. “Don't let Dylan see me this way.” She brought her hands up to her neck and tried to use her hair to shield her scars. “He'll never want me if he sees me like this! I'll be as ugly to him as ever! As ugly as Lizzie is now! I tried to stop the wedding, Dylan. I tried to stop her from ruining your life. I even hired some thug to hurl a stone at me through the bridal salon's window, butâ” She stopped talking and gasped for air. The sounds of approaching sirens filled the silence of the room. “I can still get rid of her and we can be togetherâ”

The cops rushed forward to assist her, to try to stop the bleeding, but Flea was already gone. One of the officers closed her eyes.

Dylan flew to Lizzie and untied her. And Holly, on the verge of collapse, fell seconds before Jake caught her in his arms.

“How did you know?” Holly managed to whisper.

“I just kept remembering what we spoke aboutâthat it had to be an inside job. And when I let myself focus on Lizzie's side, I finally hit on Felicia and everything clickedâhow she was able to accomplish her attacks. I wasn't sure, but I called Dylan and the police and rushed over here. I had to break down my door first, thanks to Felicia, but it's amazing what adrenaline does to a person. Felicia also managed to turn off my phone service.”

“If you'd come a minute laterâ” Holly said. “Oh, Jake.”

“I'm here now. And you're safe. Lizzie's safe. Everything is going to be okay now, Holly.”

She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent, relaxed against his strong arms.
Don't let me go
, she said silently, but she wasn't sure if she'd said it aloud.

The police had found a duffel bag full of empty prescription medication bottlesâantipsychotic drugsâhidden away in a closet in Flea's bedroom. Apparently, she had been under psychiatric care since the fire when she was fourteen.

“How could we not have known?” Holly asked.

Holly, Lizzie, Gayle, and Dylan were seated in Lizzie's living room. It had been five hours since that morning's ordeal. Lizzie, rejuvenated by the knowledge that it was over, truly over, was doing better than anyone expected.

Lizzie and Gayle shook their heads. Lizzie leaned back against her living room couch with a sigh; Gayle's eyes pooled with fresh tears.

According to the police, Felicia Harvey had been seeing a psychiatrist in private practice an hour away from Troutville from the ages of fourteen to eighteen. When she became a legal adult, she switched doctors a few times.

“I don't even know how to process this,” Lizzie said. “The attacks, Flea's death, the DunhillsâHow am I supposed to go on with the wedding when nothing in my life makes any sense? One of my best friends has hated me for over a decadeâ”

A knock on the door interrupted Lizzie, and Holly went to answer it. Jake stood outside, his expression grim.

“I've just come from the precinct. Felicia is now at the morgue.”

Lizzie swallowed. “Now that I know it was Flea all along it does make sense. She locked herself in the basementâeven, or
especially
because she was always terrified of basements. She bashed
herself
in the forehead with the stone. Who would ever suspect her? She had complete access to me, my house, to Holly and Gayle.”

“And during all our conversations about thatâthe access the culprit hadâit never even occurred to me that it could be Flea,” Holly said, shaking her head.

“That's not a bad thing, Holly,” Jake said. “Why would you suspect your own friend? Your childhood friend?”

“But all the evidenceâif I would have opened my eyes, I might have seen it.”

“And I saw it almost too late,” Jake said. “I'm trained to be objectiveâand I thought I was being objective. I learned a serious lesson on this case.”

“I think we all did,” Holly said.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“Am I really expected to enter ... a pub?” Mrs. Dunhill asked, her expression incredulous. Louis snug against her beige blazer, Mrs. Dunhill eyed the outside of Morrow's Pub as though it might attack her at any minute.

“Mrs. Dunhill,” Jake said, “it's a very nice place. I think you'll be quite pleasantly surprisedâif you ever go in.”

She had been stalling since he'd picked her up an hour ago. First, she needed a “bracing cup of coffee.” Then she needed some fruit. Then she needed to walk Louis in the gardens. When Dylan called her to say that if she didn't come immediately, he and Lizzie would elope to Las Vegas, Mrs. Dunhill announced that she was ready to go. Of course, she spent ten minutes arranging herself in the passenger seat of Jake's car, then another ten minutes getting out of the car in front of Morrow's Pub.

Mrs. Dunhill glanced sharply at Jake to chastise him for his impudence, then raised a gray eyebrow. “I've never been inside a common pub in all my life. Of course, I've been in some lovely, elegant hotel bars, but I'm sure the Morrows don't have the top-shelf liquor that I'm used to.”

Jake mentally rolled his eyes. “Again, Mrs. Dunhill, I think you're going to be very surprised.” He pulled open the door. “Shall we?” He hesitated. “Actually, before we go in, there's something I need to know. Why did you leave the engagement partyâand where did you go?” Jake had been unable to pry this information from Victoria, but perhaps now she would explain.

“Oh, Jake, really! I simply
had
to escape, that's
all
. All right, let's go,” she said, clutching Louis more tightly against her. “You'll protect me, won't you, Louis,” she cooed to the dogâwho didn't respond. “I still can't accept the idea of a pregnant girl in a bar. It's in such bad taste, smoking ban or not. It's the way it
looks
.”

“Mrs. Dunhill, after you,” Jake gritted out. And finally, the woman walked into the pub.

Inside the brightly lit room, Dylan, Lizzie, Pru, and Holly sat around a large round table, a pitcher of lemonade and a cheese platter in the center.

Everyone looked miserable. Dylan was slumped in his chair, staring at the ceiling. Lizzie was biting her cuticles. Pru was looking around as though she might catch a disease from the walls. And Holly was staring at her clasped hands.

“Pru? Who is that man sitting next to you?” Mrs. Dunhill asked.

All eyes swung to Pru. Sitting next to her was Dan. They held hands atop the table.

“This is Dan Martin, Mom,” Pru said. “He's a mechanic at the auto body shop. I met him when I brought in the Jag.”

“Is it necessary to hold hands with your mechanic?” Mrs. Dunhill asked pointedly. “And I thought this was a
family
meeting.”

“It is,” Pru responded. “Which is why I asked him to come. I'm in love with this man. Madly, crazy in love. He
is
family to me.”

Mrs. Dunhill looked as though she was going to pass out. “Jacob, dear, help me to a seat, will you? My legs may give way.”

Jake helped Mrs. Dunhill into a chair next to Lizzie's mother. The queen of Troutville immediately slid the chair over a ways so that she wouldn't be contaminated by the “common folk.”

Jake rolled his eyes and sat down across from Holly. She looked exhausted. Vulnerable.

“Okay, let's just get started,” Lizzie said. “The wedding is being postponed indefinitely.”

“That's unacceptable,” Mrs. Dunhill boomed. She sat across from Dylan, slightly set back from the others as though she were a queen. “I will not have an illegitimate grandson!”

“Mother, wedding or no wedding,” Dylan gritted out, “this baby will not be illegitimate. It is my child and Lizzie's child. And as you know, we have not determined the sex yet, so please stop referring to the baby as a boy.”

“If you're not married, he's illegitimate, Dylan,” Mrs. Dunhill retorted. “That's the definition.”

“In your dictionary, Mother,” Dylan said. “In mine and Lizzie's, our child is ours regardless of marriage, regardless of name, regardless of anything.”

“It's because of the baby that we're postponing the wedding,” Lizzie continued. “We can't imagine creating a family when our own families can't support us.” Mrs. Dunhill opened her mouth to speak, but Lizzie cut her off. “For the baby's sake, Dylan and I ask all of you to please put aside whatever negative feelings you may have about us as a couple. For the baby, we all need to get along.”

“Whoever isn't willing will be cut out of our lives,” Dylan said. “It's that simple. “So, Mother, if you can't be civil, you
will
be denied your grandchild.”

Mrs. Dunhill's jaw dropped. “How dare you!”

“I dare because I have to,” Dylan said. “Same for you, Pru. If you cannot be civil to my future wife, I will keep you from your niece or nephew.”

“Honey,” Lizzie said, touching his arm, “Pru and I have already started working on a new relationship.”

Mrs. Dunhill stared from Pru to Dylan. “Prudence Dunhill, what is going on! First, you're taking up with your mechanic and then you're suddenly making truces?”

“What about that upsets you, Mother?” Pru asked.

Mrs. Dunhill opened her mouth to speak but said nothing.

“I think it's the fear factor,” Jake said. “Change is hard for people to accept. Especially those closest to you. Your family is changing, Mrs. Dunhill. The world is changing and your children are changing. Even Troutville is changing.”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Dunhill said. “Phases are phases. They're not permanent.”

“Mom, it's easy to believe what you need to feel safe and secure,” Pru said. “It's a lot harder to accept what is and decide how you're going to deal with it, how you even feel about it. I'm in love with Dan and want to be with him. Dylan's in love with Lizzie and wants to be with her. That's all that should matter.”

“Butâ” Mrs. Dunhill began.

“But what?” Dylan said gently. “I love you, Mom. A lot. I want you in my family's life.”

“Mrs. Dunhill,” Lizzie said, “You don't have to accept me. You don't have to love me. I'm willing to extend my hand and welcome you into my life. You don't have to take it, but I hope in time you will.”

“Mom?” Dylan prompted. “Are you with us or against us?”

Mrs. Dunhill looked at her son, then at Lizzie, then back at her son. She put Louis down, then walked over to Dylan and bent down to hug him. “I love you, Dylan. And I already love my grandchild so much. I'm with you.”

Lizzie let out a cry and jumped up, and Mrs. Dunhill embraced her.

“I suppose we both have to get used to each other,” Mrs. Dunhill said to Lizzie. “I think we can do that.”

“I think so, too,” Lizzie said with a smile.

“Thanks for doing my hard work for me, brother dear,” Pru said. “You've softened Mom up for me and my new relationship.”

Mrs. Dunhill scowled. “I didn't say that. I'll deal with you two later.”

The room erupted in laughter. Surprised, Mrs. Dunhill scowled again, then allowed herself a hint of a smile.

“Mrs. Morrow?” Dylan said, turning to Lizzie's mother. “How do you feel about all of this?”

“I'm feeling in the mood for some of my amazing macaroni and cheese,” Mrs. Morrow said. “I've had some baking in the oven for the past hourâcan I interest anyone?”

There was a chorus of yeses.

“I'm quite the cheese connoisseur,” Mrs. Dunhill said. “I like a mix of three cheeses ...”

Suddenly, Mrs. Dunhill and Mrs. Morrow were discussing cheese and recipes, Dylan and Lizzie were embracing, and Pru was playing with her boyfriend's hair.

“About the wedding,” Mrs. Dunhill said. “There's a lovely square between Up Hill and Down Hill that would make a wonderful wedding locale.”

Lizzie grinned. “Between Up Hill and Down Hill. That does sounds perfect.”

“I agree. The in-between square, it is,” Dylan said.

“Tomorrow?” Mrs. Dunhill asked. “The delicious food the caterer made will keep till then. Everyone is invited to my home for the reception.”

Lizzie and Dylan smiled. “Tomorrow, it is,” they said in unison.

Mrs. Dunhill beamed.

“I guess our work is officially done,” Jake whispered to Holly.

She smiled, and his heart broke all over again.