The Rich and the Dead (35 page)

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Authors: Liv Spector

BOOK: The Rich and the Dead
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He's not in the house yet,
Lila thought. She still had a shot at stopping the murders.

But to get inside the northeast side of the house, Lila would have to break the window herself. With the butt end of her revolver, she hit it until it shattered. Then, with her sweatshirt hood up over her baseball cap to protect her skin from the shards of glass, she crawled into the basement, careful not to leave any fingerprints.

She blinked in the sudden darkness. All the lights were out, and Lila struggled to see. But her memories of the place quickly kicked in, and, as she rushed down the hall toward the wine cellar, her eyes adjusted. The only sound was that of her feet against the floor. Then her ears were assaulted by a bout of screaming, and the noise of a gunshot ricocheting down the halls. Immediately after, there was another. And another. The noise was so powerful, she felt the pain of it rip through her.

Instinctively, she hit the floor. Then the fourth gunshot exploded. Lila sprang back up to her feet and started running as fast as she could toward the bone-chilling screaming that was growing louder with each step. Then she heard a fifth shot. The sixth. Then another. Still running. Fighting her body to go faster. The throbbing veins in her head making her feel she was about to explode into a thousand jagged pieces. Then the eighth shot. She was counting. Was she still running in the right direction? Then another. Then another.

Finally, she stood at the wine cellar door. She moved to open it, but it wouldn't budge. She threw her body against it. Another shot rang out. One wall stood between her and the murderer. She put her entire weight into the door, screaming bloody murder. Then another shot. Twelve.

“I'll kill you,” she screamed at the murderer behind the door. She kicked at the door, feeling no pain, only panic, only rage. She took the butt of her gun and brought it down, over and over, on the door's hinges and handle, attacking them ferociously until she heard something give. Then, with one final kick, the door fell into the room. The smoke from the gunshots poured out. And there they were, the Janus Society members, all dead on the floor. The killer was nowhere in sight.

She rushed past the dead bodies and through the rest of the cavernous wine cellar, her gun in her hand, searching for the murderer. She spotted an open door. She ran through it, then up the stairs and out onto the large lawn overlooking the ocean. Scanning the property, she didn't see any movement.

“Where are you?” she whispered into the night sky.

For the next two hours, Lila searched everywhere, but she found nothing.

CHAPTER 39

A
STRAY SLANT
of sunlight peeking from between two heavy motel curtains forced Lila awake. The clock read 9:36
A
.
M
. The moment she opened her eyes, she closed them again and rolled over into a fetal position. She was still in last night's clothes. The smell of spilled bourbon clung to the stagnant air.

She didn't think she had the strength in her to ever get out of bed again. It felt as if the entire weight of the world was pressing down upon her bruised, aching flesh. But in a little under seven hours, she needed to be back at the warehouse in North Miami so that she could go back to 2018. Back to her ruined life. And she would be going back empty-handed, knowing nothing more than she had when she arrived.

What if I don't go back?
she thought suddenly. The very notion of running away released a bit of energy inside her, energy she didn't think she had. There was nothing waiting for her in 2018. Suddenly, the thought of returning to that life, its isolation and its numbness, was unbearable. What if she just stayed here? What would happen if she and her past self were coexisting like that? Would one of them flicker out of existence at some point, like a ghost?

Lila knew that if she stayed in the past, she would have to remain hidden. But she still had plenty of Teddy's money left, more than enough to disappear forever. She could get in the car and drive south, buy a place along the rugged Pacific coast of South America, and live out the rest of her life on her terms.

Yes, she thought, that was what she would do. Either way, she was letting Teddy down. He had put his faith in her, and she had failed. There was no point in going through the excruciating exercise of telling him that she'd spent months following false leads while spending his money and wasting his time.

And then there was Dylan, lying broken in a hospital room, thinking that the woman he loved had abandoned him when he needed her the most. How could she explain the truth to him when so much of what he knew about her was a lie?

It all added up to one big, hopeless mess.

Soon Lila had packed up her things, loaded the car, and headed north. She'd drive up, out of Florida, and then go west, clinging along the southern underbelly of the United States, through Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Texas, then head down into Mexico.

Alone in the car, her mind made up, she finally felt a slight semblance of control, and with that came a bit of peace. When she saw the exit to Fort Myers, she took it without thinking it through. Before her brain processed the turn, her instincts had kicked in. She was going to her childhood home.

Two blocks from her mom's house, Lila pulled the car over. She needed to hide any lingering evidence of Camilla Dayton. Looking in the rearview mirror, she pinned up her blond hair and pulled on a baseball cap. She looked like shit. She hadn't looked this bad since 2018, she thought wryly.

As Lila pulled up to her mom's, she spotted her outside, hunched over her rosebushes. Lila was shocked by how thin she'd become. Her usually full, pink cheeks were sunken and sallow.

When she got out of the car, her mother didn't recognize her at first because of the baseball cap she wore to conceal her changed hair.

“Mom?”

“Lila, is that you?” Lila's mother ran toward her daughter and threw her arms around her. “What a marvelous surprise!” But mother's intuition kicked in instantly. She knew something was up with her youngest daughter. “What's wrong? You don't look so hot.”

“Oh, I'm fine, Mom. I'm heading out on a trip and was passing by. Thought I'd stop in for a moment.”

Her mother took her hand, and together they walked toward the humble home. They sat down silently on the cement front steps, still holding hands, letting the warmth of the winter sun wash over them.

“How are you feeling, Mom?”

“I'm a bit run-down today, but mostly okay.”

Lila squeezed her mother's hand tighter and rested her head on her mom's shoulder. Every day since her mother died, Lila had prayed to do the very thing she was doing at this moment—seeing her mom once again, feeling her touch, hearing her voice. She didn't want the moment to end, even though she knew it had to.

The pure agony of losing her mother, on top of everything else she'd lost recently, came crashing over Lila. She inadvertently let out a long, pain-filled sigh.

“Oh, don't worry, my baby,” Lila's mother said, putting her arm around her weeping daughter. “Things will be just fine.”

“I don't think so, Mom. I think I'm done being a cop. I just can't take it anymore.”

“That's not the Lila I know.” Her mother paused, looking closely at her daughter. “Is this about a man?”

Despite her sorrow, Lila had to smile. Her mom had always known things about her without being told. “Yeah,” she admitted. “There is someone, but . . . I messed it up. Now he won't even talk to me. And I don't know what to do.”

“Love hurts the most the first time, my darling,” her mother said, knowing that her daughter had never before let a man into her heart. “Shhh,” she murmured, stroking Lila's hair, letting her cry.

Now that Lila had started crying, she couldn't find it in her to stop. She couldn't bear the thought that this was the last time she would ever see her mom.

Her mother held her tighter. “You've got to remember that life and love are worth fighting for, Lila. I know you'll remember that when it counts.” She held her daughter's face in her hands and looked softly into her eyes. “Life is
always
worth fighting for.”

The women sat together in silence for a while as the sun rose higher in the sky. Lila didn't want to leave. But when she looked at her watch, she was shocked to see that it was almost 2:00
P
.
M
. Suddenly, she knew she had to go back. To 2018. Her mother was right. She couldn't give up on her life, not yet.

She jumped up from the stoop. “I've got to run, Mom.”

Her mother stood up and hugged her tight. “I love you so much, my girl. Now, go knock 'em dead. And remember how proud I am of you.”

“I will. I always will. I love you, Mom.”

Lila ran to her car. She'd have to hurry. She didn't have much time before the window to the future was closed forever.

CHAPTER 40

L
ILA KEPT HER
eye on the clock as she raced eastward, back to Miami. She was running out of time. In order to make it to room 2867 of the storage facility by 4:16
P
.
M
., as Teddy had instructed, she tore across Florida at dangerous speeds, paying no mind to the startled, honking cars that she zoomed past. Nothing mattered more than returning to her life, becoming Lila Day once again. Enough hiding. Enough retreat. She'd go back and face the future.

It was 4:02
P
.
M
. when she arrived at the storage facility. Fourteen minutes left. She pulled the car up to the exit and sprang out toward the building, leaving the engine running. Nothing from this time was of any use to her anymore. She ran up the stairs to the second floor and sprinted along the hall, scanning the numbers on the doors, her heart beating in her throat, until she arrived at 2867. 4:06
P
.
M
.

She paused, stunned, and stood staring at the door. There was a giant padlock on it. She looked at her watch. 4:08
P
.
M
. She raced back down the halls, down the stairs, and to her car, which somehow, miraculously, was still running, not yet stolen. She reached into the glove compartment for her old police revolver and sprinted back up the stairs.

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