Obsessed (The Lizzy Gardner Series) (21 page)

CHAPTER 48

Before Lizzy could ring the doorbell, Madeline’s neighbor opened the door and invited her inside. James Whitton was the man who had passed out a flyer warning the neighborhood to be on the lookout for a silver Honda Civic. According to Madeline, he was a retired military-police officer and his wife, Teresa, was a retired teacher.

Mrs. Whitton offered her a seat on the couch in the living room and didn’t waste time with small talk. These people were serious about keeping their neighborhood safe.

“Your neighbor Madeline Blair showed me the flyer you passed around, and I was interested in learning more about the car you saw. It says on the flyer that it was a silver Honda Civic, but every few years the look of that particular make and model changes, so I brought you some photos to look at.” Lizzy laid six pictures across the coffee table. “Do any of these look like the car you saw?”

Mr. Whitton pointed to the 1990 model. “It looked just like that. One of the back windows was partly rolled down and there was water damage in the backseat. There was a lot of stuff back there, too—clothes, trash, empty cans of soda pop.”

“Did you speak to the driver?”

“I certainly did. He was male, probably in his midforties to early fifties. He wore eyeglasses, too.”

“Could you give me specifics? Color of hair, things like that?”

“He had a lot of gray and his hair was thinning. His hands were trembling. It was freezing cold outside but he was perspiring.”

“Would you say his hair was dark brown or blond?”

“Light brown peppered with dull gray. No sideburns or facial hair to speak of. He had on a dark jacket and some strange-looking pants.”

Lizzy lifted a questioning brow.

“You know . . . blue . . . those papery things that doctors wear.”

“Scrubs,” Lizzy offered.

“That’s right. Why would a man in scrubs be sitting in his car for that long? Definitely odd behavior.”

“So that’s when James played a trick on the man.”

Mr. Whitton nodded. “I asked him if he needed help with something. He appeared to give the question some thought before he told me his mother had passed away recently. He then gestured toward Dr. Blair’s house and said he used to live there and was just going down memory lane or whatever.”

“But James didn’t believe him,” his wife added, obviously proud of her husband for being extracautious.

“So what did you do?” Lizzy asked.

“Although we’ve only lived here for a few years, I pretended to know who used to live in Dr. Blair’s house. I made up a name, I can’t remember exactly—”

“I remember,” Mrs. Whitton cut in. “You came right into the house after the man drove off and told me you asked him if he was one of the Johnson boys, to which he replied, yes, he was one of the Johnson boys.”

Lizzy smiled at Mr. Whitton. “Very clever.”

Mrs. Whitton agreed wholeheartedly. “James told the man to go ahead and take his time, figuring he could go inside and call the police,” she went on, “but that’s when the man said he needed to get home to his wife, who was probably worrying.”

“He left before you could call the police?” Lizzy asked.

“He hightailed it out of here,” Mr. Whitton said.

“Did you get his plate numbers?”

He shook his head. “That was my plan all along, but the back plate was missing. I would have taken a look at the front of the car if he hadn’t taken off so fast.”

Frustrated, Lizzy looked over her notes. She needed a name, a license plate, something that might tell her who was after Madeline. “Anything else?”

“I’d appreciate it if you told us what’s going on. My wife saw the police gathered at Dr. Blair’s house last week, but she was afraid to step out of the house. I thought I had some clout with the department, but the only thing they could tell me was that everything was under control and there was nothing to worry about.”

“Look,” Lizzy said, “I can’t pretend to know what the police know. They have protocol on when to contact the public and I’m not privy to that information, but I can tell you that Madeline Blair has reason to believe she has a stalker.” Lizzy truly didn’t want to scare these people, but they were Madeline’s neighbors and they might be her best hope of seeing something and reporting back. “This vehicle you saw could very well belong to the man who’s been causing her a lot of grief.”

“He hasn’t physically harmed her in any way, I hope.”

“He broke into her house, which is when you must have seen the police cars.”

Mrs. Whitton gasped.

“I don’t mean to scare you, but at least two of Madeline’s friends have gone missing. As far as I’m concerned, this man you spoke to could be dangerous.”

“Nobody came knocking on our door,” Mr. Whitton said, clearly upset. “Are you saying the police know that her friends are missing and yet they haven’t warned us?”

She nodded. “I’ve asked Detective Chase for twenty-four-hour surveillance in the area, but nothing has been done.”

“Do these friends live close by?” Mrs. Whitton asked.

“I do know that one of the missing persons happens to live a few blocks from here.”

Lizzy knew she was stirring up shit, but she needed all the help she could get. She had a feeling Detective Chase would be getting an earful as soon as she left.

CHAPTER 49

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I have to.”

“Please, let me go.”

“I will,” he said. “Give me a minute.” He picked up the Taser he’d bought online, examined it, made sure the cartridge was loaded and then set it aside while he untied the ropes from her arms and legs. He’d brought Megan downstairs over an hour ago. The minute he untied her, she bolted for the door. He grabbed the Taser, pulled the trigger, and sent an electric charge through her body before she could get the door open. She went to the ground; her body twitched once or twice and that was it. She couldn’t move. He dragged her back to the chair and tied her up again. By the time he was done, he was sweating.

It took a while, but she came back to life. “Where’s Brent?” she asked.

He figured she must be in shock. Or maybe the volt of electricity had caused her to experience a bit of amnesia. Brent was in the trunk of her car. Hadn’t she seen him drag him out of the bedroom? Maybe not. “He’s gone. Maybe he went to get help.”

She didn’t look convinced. “What do you want with me? Take my money,” she said, “my car, anything you want—just let me go, please.”

“You all say the same thing.
Let me go. Please. I won’t say a word.
Do you realize how that sounds?” He gave her a moment to answer. His hands rolled into fists. “It sounds like bullshit and I hate bullshit.” He cracked his knuckles. “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I just might let you go if you tell me everything you know about Dr. Madeline Blair.”

“Madeline? This is about Madeline?”

He got a thrill out of seeing her surprise. It was like an explosion of colorful fireworks going off inside his head.

“Does Madeline know you?”

He smiled. “Better than most. I used to be a figment of her imagination, but that woman brought me to life.”

“What do you want to know?” she asked.

There weren’t a lot of things people wouldn’t do to get out of a tight predicament, and Megan wasn’t any different than most. “Tell me something Madeline might have told you in confidence, anything you think that not too many people would know about her.”

“I don’t understand,” she said, her voice excessively squeaky. “Why do you have to tie me up to ask me these questions?”

Because you’re my guinea pig
, he thought but didn’t say.

“Let me go and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

He sighed as he walked to the desk and picked up the Taser. He brought it back to where she sat and held it to her temple. “Do you really want to find out what a jolt to the head at close range will feel like?”

“No. Please. I’m sorry. I’ll tell you about Madeline. I promise.”

She was crying now.
That’s better.
He put the Taser aside. “Stop your sniveling and start talking.”

Her legs were shaking now, her knees literally knocking together. “She’s in her thirties. Um, she used to want to be a model. I’ve been doing her hair for many years. We’re in a book club, too.” She dared to look at him. “Is that enough?”

“Not even close.”

Between hiccuping sobs she said, “Madeline is athletic. She enjoys skiing at Heavenly.”

“You can do better than that.”

“I don’t know. I can’t think.”

“Sure you can. Your life is depending on it. I want dirt, lady. I’m not letting you go until you tell me something juicy enough to ruin your friendship with Madeline.”

Her bottom lip trembled. “She slept with her best friend two days before his wedding.”

“Now we’re talking. Please tell me the man’s name was David Westlake.”

Surprise lit up her watery eyes. “That’s him.”

“Does his wife know?”

“No.”

“Give me the particulars . . . hurry . . . we’re almost done here.”

“David’s wife didn’t want Madeline at the wedding . . . is that what you mean?”

“You got it.” He cracked all ten fingers.

“His wife was jealous of Madeline’s friendship with David, so she laid down the law and told David that Madeline could not attend.”

“I bet she was furious,” he said.

“At first she was sad, but then the idea of not being at her best friend’s wedding ate at her.”

“I bet it did. Go on.”

“Madeline went to see David.” She gave her head a shake. “God, she’d be so upset if she knew I—”

He pressed the tip of the Taser to her temple and she jumped and screamed. When she’d quieted down, eyes rolling wildly up toward the Taser, he said, “Do you think I care how upset Madeline would be?”

“No!”

“I’ll bet she told you it was her deepest, most shameful secret. I’ll bet she made you swear on your life you wouldn’t tell, didn’t she?”

She nodded.

“Well, who do you think is the biggest threat right now—Madeline, or me?”

“You.” Her lips trembled.

“Good call.” He traced the tip of the Taser down the side of her face, then back to her temple. “You were saying Madeline went to see David . . .”

“She brought pictures and yearbooks from their past. They shared memories and they ended up in bed together.”

“Madeline, Madeline, Madeline,” he said over and over.

“Can I go now?”

He walked to the desk where he’d set up all his tools and picked up a scalpel. “If you think that little electric charge hurt, you might not want to find out what this baby can do. It has a zirconium nitride–coated edge to improve sharpness.”

She struggled and cried out.

He set the scalpel down and picked up a recorder, then walked back to Megan. “When I hit this button right here and you see the little red light go on, I want you to say, ‘Don’t hurt me, Madeline. Why have you done this to me? Let me go.’” He let that settle in for a moment. “Got it?”

Between the sobbing and crying, she managed a nod.

He hit the button and held it close enough for Madeline to get the full effect when she heard the recording.

“Perfect.”

“Oh, my God, please, can I go now?”

“Absolutely.” He moved behind her chair and pretended to fiddle with the ropes.

“I won’t tell a soul,” she said, relief lining her voice.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out the syringe that contained a lethal dose of fentanyl, and just before he plunged the needle into her neck, he said, “I believe you.”

CHAPTER 50

Three raps on her door prompted Hayley to look through the peephole before she slid open the new deadbolt she’d installed and let Tommy inside.

“Hey, there,” he said as he walked past her and set a large box along with Kitally’s leather bag on the floor next to the couch.

Hayley had just washed Kitally’s hair without getting the bandages over her nose wet. There was a lot of dried blood and matted hair and the whole ordeal took about forty-five minutes. The bandages covering her broken nose started at the middle of her forehead and ended at the tip of her nose. As of yesterday, Hayley no longer needed to pack Kitally’s nostrils with dampened gauze strips coated with antibiotics. That was good news. The bad news was that Kitally could talk at her normal capacity again.

“How’s the face feeling?” Tommy asked Kitally.

“Like it’s been run over by a truck.” Kitally frowned. “I better not need to have my nose fixed. I liked my nose just the way it was.”

“I’m just glad to see you looking human again. It looks like Hayley has been taking good care of you.”

“Yeah, she’s been pretty good,” Kitally said. “I think she’s getting used to me since it’s been twenty-four hours since she asked me to stop talking.”

The dog was curled up on the couch next to Kitally. Tommy scratched its head and then handed Kitally the keys to her house. “I waited until the house cleaner was finished, then I locked up your place. I don’t think there was a vase or a picture frame that wasn’t broken. According to the police, the contents of your purse were scattered across the garage floor, but your wallet is missing.”

“Son of a bitch. That means I need to start calling credit card companies.”

“Do the police have any leads?” Hayley asked from the kitchen.

Tommy shook his head. “There have been several burglaries in the area recently. It sounded to me as if they’re writing this one off as a home robbery gone bad.”

Hayley cleared the wooden chest of papers and set a bowl of chicken soup in front of Kitally.

“That smells good,” Tommy said.

“There’s plenty on the stove. Help yourself.”

“I’m good. So,” Tommy said as he looked from Hayley to Kitally, “what’s the plan?”

“Plan?” Hayley asked.

“Well, apparently you two have spent a week passing out flyers offering a reward for anyone who knew where Brian might be. Kitally just got her ass kicked with a message telling you both to lay off or die. Looks like you found Brian. So now what?”

Kitally swallowed a spoonful of soup as she looked at Hayley. “Maybe we should tell him.”

“Tell him what?” Tommy asked.

As Kitally repositioned herself on the couch, she winced in pain. “We could use his help, Hayley. If those guys show up again in the next few days, I’m not exactly ready to fight anyone.”

Hayley crossed her arms, her gaze set on Tommy. “Why do you want to know about any of this? I thought your Karate Kid business was keeping you extra busy these days.”

He raised both hands in the air. “I’m the boss. I have dependable people working for me. I can take as much time off as I need.” He took Kitally’s machete from the box he’d brought in and made a few quick, well-practiced moves: overhead, outside, and inside body cuts. He stepped into each strike, stopping the machete before the end of each swing.

“Nice,” Kitally said.

He put the machete back in the box, then looked at Hayley. “I’m sure there’s something I can do to help. Neither of you look like you’re in any shape to defend yourself against Brian and his friends.”

“I’m ready,” Hayley told him.

“Bullshit.” He positioned himself in the middle of the room. “I haven’t seen you at UFC training in a while. Show me what you got.”

Kitally sighed. “Don’t be an idiot, Tommy. She’ll kick your ass.”

Hayley didn’t want his help. Didn’t need his help. But it was time to shut him up. She walked up to him and got into the same position she used to use when she and Tommy would visit schools in the area with Lizzy and teach kids self-defense.

Tommy struck first.

Hayley ducked.

He kicked.

She jumped.

And then
bam
, he had her on the floor and she wasn’t sure how it had happened. They were on the carpet. She was on her side. His legs were interlocked with hers; one of his arms held her arm behind her back.

“Let me go.”

“No.”

“Let her go, Tommy,” Kitally said, worry in her voice.

Hayley gritted her teeth and told him to get out.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

His face was inches from hers. She tried to twist her arm out of his grip, but she already knew he had her right where he wanted her and he wasn’t budging. That really pissed her off. Not only did Tommy train young kids at his karate place every day, he’d obviously been training hard at the UFC gym.

“If you really want to get Brian and his friends, you need to stop being so stubborn and actually prepare.”

“What are you going to do, train me?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Hayley growled.

Tommy leaned in close to Hayley’s neck and sniffed. “You smell good. What are you wearing?”

“Chicken soup and soap.”

“You two need to get a room,” Kitally cut in.

“If you don’t get off me right now,” Hayley ground out, “there’s no way I’m going to let you help us.”

“Ah, that’s more like it,” he said as he let her go.

She was tempted to put him on his back, but it wasn’t worth the energy it would take.

“You need to replace all of that pent-up anger of yours with grit.”

Hayley was on her feet, rubbing her wrist. For some reason, she hadn’t noticed until now that Tommy had grown in the last couple of years. Not only in height, but in bulk. He’d filled out all over. He was still on the lean side, but more defined. He was twenty-four and he’d finally lost his baby face.

“OK,” Kitally said happily, “looks like we’ve got our own little Justice League.”

Justice League?
“Listen,” Hayley said. “This is my fight. I never intended to drag anybody into this.” If she had any sense at all, she thought, she’d pack up and head out alone.

“Take a good look at Kitally,” Tommy said, “and tell me that other people aren’t already involved in this.” When nobody responded, he clapped his hands together. “Let’s get started. The first thing we’re going to do is whip the two of you back into shape.”

Hayley rolled her eyes and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes in the sink.

“Come on,” he said, “right now. We’re going to the park.”

“I just took a painkiller with my soup,” Kitally said. “Today you’re going to have to focus on Hayley.”

“Come on, Hayley, let’s go,” Tommy said, already annoying the shit out of her. “When you can take me down like you used to, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart, hope to die.”