Obsessed (The Lizzy Gardner Series) (12 page)

CHAPTER 24

At just past noon, Janelle walked in the door and marched over to where Seth was sitting in his favorite chair. She stood in front of him, hands on her hips, blocking his view of the television. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her in anything other than those ugly blue scrubs. She disgusted him.

“We need to talk.”

He wasn’t in the mood. He came to his feet and walked around her to get to the kitchen. She stayed on his heels. He opened the refrigerator and hunted around. “Looks like you need to go shopping again. We’re out of beer.”

Janelle dumped her purse on the counter. “I can only cover for you at work for so long. Whatever you’re doing, it has to stop.”

Heat rose to his face. He whipped around with a backhand to her face. He’d never struck his wife before, or any woman, for that matter. The act itself made him feel powerful . . . in control. He brought his hands close to his face and began to examine the deep grooves and fine lines in his palms. These hands had done things that could never be undone.

Eyes wide, nose bleeding, Janelle stared at him. “What is wrong with you? Who do you think you are?”

He answered with a smirk before making his way back to the family room. He felt suddenly restless, like a caged animal.

She followed close behind. “I won’t allow you to ignore me forever. You forget who you’re dealing with.”

That got his attention. His wife, the one who had slept with another man, was making threats. Interesting. He turned about, took a step toward her and stood so close he could feel the beat of her heart. She smelled like bedpans and cheap perfume. “You stupid whore,” he said as he wrapped his hands around her throat. “You have no idea who I am or what sort of man I’ve become.” He pressed his thumbs into her larynx and watched her face turn red. “Do you know what I’m capable of? Well, do you?”

She tried to shake her head. Her eyes were wide and fearful, but her gaze never left his.

He let go, watched her struggle to catch her breath, enjoying every minute.

She stepped away, a hand on her throat. But instead of fleeing or threatening to call the police, she croaked, “Why can’t you love me like you used to?”

He laughed. “Oh, we’re going to discuss our relationship right now?”

“Answer the question. Why don’t you love me? You used to.”

“Because you’re a liar.”

“I could never lie to you. I made a horrible mistake, but I told you what I had done. Don’t ruin what we still have left. If you would just give me a chance, we could make this work . . . but you must stop obsessing over that woman—”

“Now you’re talking gibberish.” The notion she might know about Madeline surprised him and intrigued him, too.

“Nobody knows you like I do,” she went on. “I see the wistful look you get when you listen to Madeline Blair on the radio. She’s not worthy of your time. She could never love you like I do.”

Janelle’s voice was beginning to sound like an irritating mosquito buzzing around his ear.

“I told the staff at the hospital that you’ve been sick,” she said. “If you don’t show up on Monday, what will I tell everyone?”

“It’s nobody’s concern.”

“It is my concern. I care about you.”

“So you’ve said.” He grabbed his coat from the hall closet.

“Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“I’m not waiting up for you this time.”

“Just make sure you have dinner on the table when I get back.”

CHAPTER 25

It was one o’clock when Lizzy entered Monty’s Bar & Grill on 16th. The smell of garlic bread made her stomach grumble as she made her way to the back of the room where she could see what had to be Dr. Madeline Blair sitting in a booth. The copper-colored hair Dr. Blair had described to her settled over her shoulders in thick curls, making her easy to spot. Their gazes met as Lizzy crossed the room. Madeline gestured for Lizzy to take a seat across from her and said, “Thanks for coming.”

Dr. Madeline Blair, psychotherapist and radio personality, sounded even sultrier in person. From what Lizzy had been able to gather since her call, she talked to her listeners about relationships, sex, suicide, bullying in schools, and her listeners treated her as if she were their sister or close friend. Lizzy had her doubts about the whole notion of radio psychology, but couldn’t help but admire Madeline’s heart-shaped face and sensuous mouth. She imagined the woman must have men lining up for dates.

While they were still exchanging pleasantries, their waitress, a young girl with braids, came over to take their order. When she was done, she looked at Madeline and said, “Are you going to be at the book club next week?”

“I don’t think so. I have a lot going on. Tell Megan I’ll give her a call.”

After the waitress left, Lizzy noticed Madeline’s gaze circling the room, her fingers entwined.

“Are you sure you want to do this here?” Lizzy asked. “We could go to my office—”

“No, we’re already here.” Her gaze swept across the restaurant once more. “I’m sorry. I need to relax.”

“You mentioned on the phone that someone is watching you. Any idea at all who it might be?”

“No idea whatsoever.” She leaned forward. “You have to help me. I don’t know what to do. I’m in a horrible mess.”

“Let’s start from the beginning,” Lizzy told her. “How long has this been going on?”

“Five days ago, somebody left me this note.” She pulled an envelope from her purse and slid it across the table.

After Lizzy read it, she looked at Madeline. “What does it mean?”

“I wish I knew.”

“You said a detective came to your house to talk about a missing friend, is that right?”

Madeline nodded.

“Did you show this to him?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I believe someone is trying to implicate me.”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

Dr. Blair told her everything that had happened since learning her friend David Westlake had gone missing. Apparently there was a man in her neighborhood who was also missing.

“So you think whoever is watching you might have something to do with Chris’s
and
David’s disappearance?”

She nodded.

“Have you received anything other than that note?”

“Yes, I have.” Madeline fiddled with her phone and then passed it to Lizzy. “I took some pictures.”

The first photo was of a bouquet of dead flowers. “Where did you find this bouquet?”

“Inside my car on the passenger seat.”

“Was your car locked?”

“No, but it was inside my garage, which was locked.”

“Did he damage the door?”

“I looked, but I didn’t notice anything.”

The next picture was of a dead rat with a note tied to its tail. “Disgusting. What did the note say?”

“‘I’M WATCHING YOU.’ I found the thing on my doorstep two days ago.”

“Have you shown any of this to the detective?”

“Yes. The police have the flowers and the”—she wrinkled her nose—“rat in their possession.”

Lizzy thought it was odd that she hadn’t given the police the note as well, but it was clear she was fearful and probably not thinking straight. The woman was also thin and pale. Dark shadows punctuated her eyes. She looked as if she hadn’t slept in a week. “Did you ever talk about your neighbor on your radio show?”

“No. I never once mentioned Chris.”

“Can you tell me more about David Westlake?”

“David and I have been friends since kindergarten. He and his wife, Debra, have two daughters. He’s a personal-injury lawyer. I called Debra yesterday for an update. Detective Chase interviewed her husband’s colleagues and every one of them said it was business as usual the day he went missing.” Madeline held up a finger. “But there was one night watchman who says he saw David in the parking lot that night talking to a man in a car.”

“Did he get the license number of the car? The make and model?”

Madeline shook her head.

Lizzy sighed. “Crack security operative.” She thought for a moment. “Did David know about Chris Porter?”

Madeline nodded. “He was the only one who knew I was seeing Chris. I hadn’t even told my own sister.”

“I’m confused. Are you hiring me to find your friends or your stalker?”

“Both,” Madeline said. “You know what it’s like to be followed around day and night? He’s watching me, and I have no idea what he wants. If you can find out who this maniac is, I’m hoping it will lead us to Chris and David.”

“We’ll need to meet again,” Lizzy said. “And I’ll need you to make a list of everyone you know, especially people who might have reason to cause you harm.”

“I’ve gotten my share of irate callers over the years, but nobody has ever threatened me.”

They paused while the waitress served their food and drinks.

“I spend ninety-nine percent of my life at work,” Madeline told her. “I have never stepped on anyone to get to the top. I spend my time trying to help people. I have no idea who would want to hurt me. He could be the man sitting over there drinking a beer, for all I know.”

“You said earlier that someone was trying to implicate you. How so?”

“According to Detective Chase, an anonymous tipster told police to keep an eye on me. This caller mentioned a book titled
Obsessed
by Beau Geste. It takes place in a small town and lots of people go missing, one at a time. The antagonist is a woman. She’s also a psychotherapist and radio personality. The only difference is the setting—
Obsessed
takes place in New Jersey.”

“I don’t understand how this would implicate you.”

“It gets worse,” Madeline said. “The detective asked me if I ever heard of the book or the author, which I hadn’t. At the end of our conversation, I gave Detective Chase permission to go through my house, and lo and behold he found a copy of
Obsessed
signed by the author to his number-one fan.”

“No prints, I suppose.”

Madeline shook her head. “Mine either, as far as that goes, but the fact that it was on my shelves seems to have trumped that.”

Lizzy exhaled. “It sounds like you may need to hire a lawyer.”

“I decided to hire you first. Somebody planted that book. Nobody has a key to my house—not my sister, my brother, or my parents. I need to find out who’s doing this to me. I need to find Chris and David.”

“Any possibility that Chris was jealous of David?”

She shook her head. “I never once talked to Chris about David. I can’t picture it.”

“What about the other way around?”

“David jealous of Chris?” Madeline snorted. “Absolutely not.”

“I think it would be best if I focused my attention on keeping a twenty-four-hour surveillance on your house,” Lizzy said.

“What about Chris?”

“If he has a daughter or family in the area, I’ll be able to find them. Maybe they can shed some light on where he’s run off to.”

Madeline wiped her eyes.

It was the first time she’d shown any emotion. “Are you OK?” Lizzy asked.

“I can’t tell you what a relief it is to have someone in my corner. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I can’t open a door without feeling as if someone is waiting to attack me.”

Lizzy nodded in understanding.

“The thing that frightens me the most, though, is the thought of never seeing Chris or David again. I have to find them.”

Lizzy nodded. “We will find them, but first we need to keep you safe. This guy has found a way into your house. Starting first thing in the morning, I’m going to be your shadow while I get to know your routine. Whenever you can, it would help if you could gather a list of contacts, people close to you or who you might have recently come in contact with. I also need a checklist of your daily routine.”

Tears fell freely now. “Thank you.”

CHAPTER 26

Seth waited until that time of night when even the insomniacs of the world couldn’t fight sleep any longer. The bump key he’d made for Madeline’s back door, the one that led into the laundry room, worked perfectly. When he was a teenager, he had lost the key to his house and was forced to find a way in without waking his parents. It was easy—so easy he’d started breaking into his neighbors’ homes. Sometimes he would have a snack in the kitchen while they slept, but mostly he left everything just the way it was. Fun and games. He didn’t steal anything. No harm, no foul.

He padded quietly across the floor, past the kitchen and dining room before making his way upstairs. At the landing, he stopped to listen for any sound. There were two bedrooms upstairs. Madeline’s bedroom was to the right. Her door was open and he could hear her breathing.

Careful not to make the slightest noise, he placed a bag on the floor by his feet and pulled out a syringe. After readying the needle, he pulled the mask over his head. He was finally going to meet Dr. Madeline Blair. Only tonight wouldn’t be anything like what he’d originally had in mind.

Two men were dead. She deserved to die for what she’d made him do, but that would be an easy out for the good doctor. She was going to suffer in ways she could never imagine. Madeline needed to be taught a lesson.

Madeline struggled to move, to open her eyes, to scream. It was no use. Tape covered her eyes and mouth. Thick, scratchy rope bound her wrists. She twisted and pulled and screamed beneath the tape.

“Don’t struggle, Madeline. You’ll only hurt yourself if you do.”

He’s here.

It had to be him. The same man who had been watching her, leaving her threatening notes, had somehow gotten inside her house. How had he tied her up? She was woozy. He must have drugged her somehow.

Oh, God. No
.

He pressed his nose against her neck and sniffed like a dog.

“Stop,” she said, her voice muffled behind the tape.

“You smell so good. I have dreamed of this moment for a long time. When I first realized you deceived me, I wanted to kill you, Madeline. Do you understand?” He pushed her hair back from her face and pressed his lips to her forehead.

She twisted and turned, tried to get him away from her, but he held her head to the pillow with one strong hand as he buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply, his breath hot against her scalp. “God, I don’t know what I feel more. Do I love you or do I hate you? I think there must be a very fine line between the two, don’t you think, Madeline?”

She struggled to get loose, squirmed against him, tried to get free.

With his lips pressed against her temple, he wrapped his fingers around her throat and began to squeeze, only slightly, just enough to let her know he could kill her if he wanted to. She pulled at the ropes. The rope around her left wrist felt loose. If she could free one hand, she could gouge his eyes.

The mattress dipped when he pushed himself to his feet. She heard soft footfalls as he walked around the bedroom. She wanted to talk to him, find out why he was doing this and convince him to think about what he was doing, but every word was muffled beneath the tape.

She stopped moving when she felt him hovering over her. He was touching her again, this time with the sharp tip of cold metal. She heard snipping as he began to cut her pajama top from her body.
Oh, God. Please, no. Stop.

After he removed her top, she felt his breath close to her breasts. He smelled her again. He was a disgusting pig. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and it wasn’t long before she felt his bristly jaw against her face and neck.

“You’ve done this to yourself, Madeline, and soon everyone in Sacramento will know what you did.”

She arched upward, wriggled and bucked, anything to get him away from her. The more energy she used, though, the more difficult it was to breathe through her nose.

He pulled away.

She felt nauseous. How would she throw up, though? Her mouth was sealed. She commanded herself to calm down, to breathe evenly through her nose.

“Be still, Madeline.” The tips of his fingers brushed slowly over her arm. “I need to teach you a lesson. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. When you first told your listeners about some god-awful freak leaving you gifts, I wanted to be your hero. I wanted to help you in the same way you helped me after my wife betrayed me.”

She squirmed beneath his touch, relieved when she felt the mattress sag before he stood again.

He walked around the room. Drawers were opened and closed. She heard him leave the room and she prayed he’d left for good. Her heart plummeted when moments later he returned and the mattress sagged beneath his weight once more.

“You never should have lied to your listeners. We trusted you. I trusted you.”

She heard a crack in his voice, as if he was trying to stay calm but couldn’t hide his anger.

“The first time I heard your voice, I felt things I never felt before. For months now, I’ve wanted to meet you, talk to you, get to know you. I wanted to be part of your life, Madeline. But you’re just like every woman I’ve ever known. You’re all liars.”

She pulled at the ropes.

“Don’t worry. I’m still going to be a part of your life, Madeline. Just not in the same way I first envisioned.”

A few moments passed before he said, “Look at this.”

It sounded as if he were flipping through the pages of a book.

“Hmm. Interesting. Hey, Madeline, who’s Amber Olinger? How about Lennon Brooks? Does Megan Vos know what a lying sack of shit you are?”

Those were all names from her personal address book. She tried to shout at him, tried to get free, but he climbed on top of her. “Stop moving around so much, Dr. Blair. It’s not helping matters. All of your squirming about is only making me angry and I don’t think you want to piss me off any more than you already have. Do you?”

His breathing grew ragged as he rubbed against her like a dog in heat. With his full weight stretched out on top of her, she couldn’t move, could hardly breathe. She had no idea how much time passed before he climbed off her.

She inhaled deeply through her nose.

His fingers pulled at the corner of the tape across her mouth. “You get one chance, Madeline, to have your say. Scream and you die. Do you understand?”

She nodded, then sucked in a breath when the tape came off. “What have you done with David and Chris?”

“Ten points for Dr. Blair. I didn’t think you cared for anyone but yourself.”

“Where are they?”

“You act as if Chris Porter was your friend, and yet you didn’t report it to the police. If you had, it would have been in the paper or on the news.”

“Is he safe?”

“He’s at peace, Madeline.”

She choked back a sob. “What does that mean? What the hell have you done with him?”

None too gently, he slapped a new piece of tape over her mouth. “Everyone has a beginning and an end, remember? You’ll go through a grieving process. Perhaps you’ll even be inspired by your own mortality.”

He cracked his knuckles before adding, “Coping with loss is a personal journey. Allow yourself to feel pain and sadness. Do not resist these emotions, Madeline. I am here for you.”

Oh, God.
He was repeating verbatim what she often told callers who were dealing with the death of a close friend or family member. The man was insane.

“I wish I could stay and have a good, long chat with you, but I must say goodbye for now, Sacramento. Until tomorrow.”

He began to cut off the rest of her pajamas, his fingertips brushing over the length of her as he removed her clothes. She couldn’t see him, but she could feel his gaze roaming over her.

A moment later, he lowered his mouth to her ear. “I want you to listen carefully. I’m telling you this for your own good. Do
not
call the police. If you do, they may decide to lock you behind bars. And I won’t be able to help you if you’re in prison, Madeline.” He pressed his mouth on top of hers and she was suddenly thankful for the tape covering her lips.

“You wanted a stalker and now you’ve got one.”

That was the last thing he said before she felt the prick of a needle in her arm.