Love you to Death (21 page)

Ashley realized in that moment that everything Constance had told her was true. He wasn’t going to let Constance go. He wasn’t going to let either of them go. He was going to kill her, too.

Gary lifted the gun, pointing it at Constance, then he lifted the manicure kit out to Ashley. “Do it.”

The tiny part of her mind that had not yet accepted her fate started praying. Ashley stepped forward and took the handle of the kit, staring at the fingernail files and bright red polish as if it were a live snake.

There was no way out of this. She had no weapons—even the fingernail files were made of cardboard, and despite what the airlines thought, clippers were not a weapon. She didn’t have the strength to take him on unarmed. She didn’t have the brains to find any other way out of this.

All she could do now was make this as easy on Constance as possible.

She took the shivering woman’s right hand and went to work. By the time she was done, both women had bright red smudges of nail polish all over them, but it was the best Ashley could do with her hands shaking like they were.

“Good. Now help her up. We’re going back to the room.”

He didn’t have to tell her which room.

He’ll take your left hand, then your right.

Constance hadn’t been lying.

“Let me take her to the bathroom first. She hasn’t been all day.”

“There’s no time.”

“She’s probably going to wet all over the place. Do you really want to clean that up?”

Disgust marred his handsome face for a moment. “Fine, but be quick.”

Ashley bore most of Constance’s weight as she helped her into the bathroom. Gary didn’t even bother to object when she shut the door. He knew there was nothing either woman could do to stop him. He was in total control.

Ashley eased Constance down onto the toilet, then took the bottle of pain pills from her pocket and counted them. Twelve.

She wasn’t sure if it was going to be enough, but she had to try.

She pushed several pills into Constance’s mouth and held a glass of water to her lips. “Drink, honey. It’ll all be over soon.”

At least for one of them.

E
lise had spoken to two abduction victims this morning and knew instantly that she wasn’t on the right track. Neither of the women’s kidnappers had been caught, and she thought that whoever had taken them might have taken Ashley, but she was wrong.

The first woman had been abducted by a black man—clearly not the man in the photo—and the second woman by one of her old boyfriends. Elise had shown that woman the photo of the stalker in Ashley’s backyard, and she was positive that was not the man who’d taken her.

She sat in her car, looking over the lists she’d made, wondering how many more dead ends she was going to hit before she found some kind of lead to go on. Her eyes kept going to the one anomaly—the missing woman whose hand had been found. Susan Maloney.

Susan’s mother lived only a half hour away from where Elise was now. Maybe it was best to go speak to her just so Elise could move on. If she could rule out Susan’s kidnapper, then maybe she could also get the image of that headless, handless corpse out of her head.

Yeah, right.

Elise found Susan’s childhood home without any trouble. It was in an older, well-maintained neighborhood, with towering trees and perfect lawns. She got out of her car, walked up the flower-lined sidewalk, took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

She didn’t know if this woman was aware of the handless body in the Chicago morgue, but she knew she had to tell her, just in case it was her daughter lying there.

A ragged woman opened the door. Her clothes were stained and wrinkled and her gray hair looked like it hadn’t been combed in a week. “Yes?” she said in a dry voice.

“Are you Susan Maloney’s mother?” asked Elise.

Her mouth tightened into a hard, angry ring, driving the blood from it. “No reporters.” She started to shut the door, but Elise slapped her hand against it to stop her.

“I am a reporter, but that’s not why I’m here. My sister is missing. I need to speak to you.”

The woman paused, on the edge of indecision.

“Please. Just a few minutes.”

Finally, the anger faded from Susan’s mother, leaving her looking deflated, like a month-old balloon. “Come in.”

Elise stepped inside. It smelled stale in here, a little like old garbage, a lot like despair. Dust lay on every surface. Clearly, the outside of her home was kept up by a service, or it would have looked a lot more like the inside.

She led Elise to her living room, which was filled with newspapers and stacks of unopened mail. She motioned for Elise to sit on the couch, so she sat.

“My name is Elise McBride. My sister is Ashley.”

The woman plopped down in a weary pile and nodded. “I saw you talking about her on the news. I’m sorry.”

Elise swallowed back the wave of fear and grief that rose up in her throat. She needed to concentrate and make this as brief and painless for Mrs. Maloney as possible. “Can you tell me what happened to your daughter? I’ve read the articles online, but sometimes they leave things out—things only a mother would know.”

Mrs. Maloney stared out the window. “Susan went missing last month. She went to work, left, and no one saw her again.”

“Where did she work?”

“The music store here in town. She teaches piano there. She’s always loved to play. I don’t know what she’ll do now, with only one hand.”

Oh, God. Elise’s stomach twisted with sympathy for this woman, and guilt that she had to make her talk about it one more time. There was nothing she could say to make this any easier, any better, so she settled for, “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Maloney.”

“The police will find her.”

“I’m sure they will.” Elise couldn’t bring herself to mention the body. It made her a coward, but she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t be the one to put this woman through that.

Mrs. Maloney dug in a box of tissues, found it empty. Elise pulled a travel pack out of her purse and handed it to her.

“Thanks.”

Elise nodded. “I know this is hard for you, and I hate to ask, but do you think you could look at a photo for me?” She unfolded the paper and handed it across the coffee table. “This is the man I think took Ashley. Do you recognize him?”

Elise sat back as the woman stared at the picture, confident she’d hear what she’d heard all day—that Mrs. Maloney had never seen the man before.

Instead, the woman started to shake. The paper fluttered around in her hand until Elise was sure she could no longer focus on the image.

“I know him,” she whispered. “I saw him outside the music shop the day Susan went missing. I’d had lunch with her that day and was late for a doctor’s appointment. When I dropped her off, I was in such a hurry I almost backed into him. He was headed into the store.”

A sick sense of panic welled up inside Elise. She didn’t want this woman to know the man in the photo. She didn’t want her sister’s disappearance tied to Susan Maloney and her severed hand.

Whoever had taken Susan had hurt her. Elise couldn’t stand the thought of someone doing that to Ashley.

She had to get out of here. She couldn’t stay any longer and witness this woman’s devastation. It was like seeing her own possible future—ragged, dirty, and full of despair.

“Thank you for your time,” said Elise as she plucked the photo from Mrs. Maloney’s hands. She tossed her business card on the table. “Please feel free to have whoever’s working your daughter’s case call me.” Just not today. Please, God, not today.

Elise had to absorb this new turn of events, adjust to it. She was standing on shaky ground, and the slightest upset would send her tumbling over the edge of grief and hopelessness.

Ashley needed her to stay strong and keep her wits about her. It was the only way she was going to find her sister before it was too late—before there was more than one piece of Ashley to be found.

On the way to her car, Elise stopped long enough to empty her stomach on the perfect flowers lining Mrs. Maloney’s sidewalk.

Her hands were still shaking when she drove away and went to the nearest convenience store to get something to wash the taste of bile from her mouth. She got back on the undivided highway, blindly heading for Trent and the solace only he could give her.

She was miles away from anyone, on a deserted stretch of cow-lined road, when she realized that the car behind her had been there since she’d left Mrs. Maloney’s home.

She was being followed.

Trent attached the last sprinkler head and turned on the water to test the system he’d just finished installing.

It worked perfectly.

“Looks good,” shouted Sam from his truck. He’d just pulled up to the curb, so Trent turned off the water and went to see what he wanted.

“I just finished,” he told his brother.

“I can see. And look at you. Where’d all that shaggy hair go?”

Trent ran a hand over his buzz cut, enjoying the familiar feel tickling his palm. “Got it cut over lunch.” He’d also picked up some condoms. Lots of condoms.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you look so respectable. Who’s the woman?”

Trent felt a grin tug at his mouth. “Who says it’s a woman?”

“I pull up here to find you’re finished early, looking like you give a damn. And, you were whistling. Doesn’t take a genius to figure out you got laid.”

Sort of. He was looking forward to the real thing later tonight, praying Elise was still on board, too.

Trent deflected the intrusion into his personal life with years of practice. “Why are you here? Checking my work?”

Sam grunted in amusement. “Like I need to. No, I’m on a mission from Mom. She wants to know if you’re coming this weekend.”

“What’s this weekend?”

“The cookout. With Busty. Remember?”

“Oh, right. Sorry. It’s been a long week.”

Sam grinned and rubbed his hand over Trent’s trimmed hair. “I bet. Are you really not going to tell me who the girl is?”

“Elise.”

“Ashley’s sister?”

“Yeah.”

The grin fell from Sam’s face. “They still haven’t found her, have they?”

“No, but we’re doing everything we can.”

“
We?
”

“The police.”

“Ah. For a second there, I thought you might be including yourself in the investigation.”

Trent shrugged. “I’ve been helping when I can, but there’s not much I can do but try to keep Elise out of trouble.”

“I can see the method you’ve chosen to do that. Good choice.”

“It’s not like that.”

“No? Should I tell Mom to give you Busty’s phone number?”

“No. Not interested.”

Sam’s blue eyes, so much like Trent’s own, stared at him as if trying to unravel some mystery.

“What?” asked Trent.

“I’m just trying to figure out if this flashback to the old you is due to the woman, or to the fact that you’re doing the only thing you’ve ever really loved.”

Honestly, Trent wasn’t sure either. “I’m not working for Bob.”

“Maybe not on the books, but I’d bet my truck that you’re getting involved in the investigation.”

“I’m not doing anything illegal.”

“Never said you were. But whatever you’re doing, whether it’s the investigation or the woman, it suits you. You should keep doing it. I like having my brother back.”

“I never went anywhere,” growled Trent.

“Sure you did. Your body was here, but your heart wasn’t. All the lights were out. Until now.” Trent opened his mouth to respond, but Sam cut him off. “I’ll tell Mom not to call Busty. I’ll tell her you’ll bring Elise to the cookout instead.”

“I don’t even know if she’ll still be in town.”

“Then keep her here. It’s Wednesday. The party is Saturday. I’m sure you can think of something fun to occupy her time for three or four days.”

Yes, he could. He could think of a lot of things to do with that much time. In fact, the ideas roaming around in his head would likely take up a solid month. Or three.

Trent’s phone trilled out its ring, vibrating against his hip. He fished it out of his pocket, saw it was Elise and his heart jumped in his chest, just like it had when he was a teenage boy and the girl he was crushing on had called.

“Heya, Elise,” he said as he answered.

“Trent, thank God.” Her voice was pitched high and thin with terror.

Fear slid through him, kicking his adrenaline pump into high gear. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m being followed.” She shrieked, and he heard tires squeal. “They’re trying to run me off the road!”

E
lise gripped the steering wheel tighter and took the next turn way too fast. Her car veered to the side of the road but stayed on it. Barely.