Trust Me (45 page)
"You think you can get away from me?" he yelled. "You think I'm going to let you do what you've done to me and then watch you walk away?"
She stared at him, her eyes glazed with fright and pain. "What have I done to you?" she breathed, her voice filled with as much hostility as his own.
"You cost me everything /You cost me almost four years of my life!
Do you know what prison is like? Do you?"
When he knelt, pressing his knee down on her crushed hand, she cried out again. "That's what it's like, Ms. Kellerman. I was screaming, too, only on the inside. And now there's Jane. I could never forgive you Jane."
"Did she...leave you...like she should have...long ago?" she panted.
He wanted to recover the excitement of what he was doing. But all he felt was rage. "You're responsible for her and Noah! You're responsible for everything!"
"No," she whimpered. "I had nothing to do with Jane."
"She wouldn't have turned to him if she'd still had me. She would've loved me like she did before." Oliver was surprised to find he was crying, genuinely crying, not putting on an act like he had for his mother. Had losing Jane really hurt him that much? "She was the one woman who always believed in me," he said, his voice falling to a whisper. "She was the only one."
"Where is she, Oliver?"
"She's gone."
"Where?" Sweat was beading on Skye's face, beginning to run into her hair. She looked pale from the pain, as if she might pass out. But her eyes remained focused and lucid. "Did you kill her? Did you kill her like you killed those other women?"
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He didn't want to answer. He didn't owe Skye anything. He'd planned to rape her, to take his time and make it as painful as possible. But he didn't want that anymore. He doubted he could even get hard. He was too upset.
All he could think about was Jane's blood on his hands and his inability to wash it off. It was back now. He couldn't see it, but he knew it was there.
Maybe when he went home and took off his shirt, he'd find the spatter all over his chest again, along with blood from the wound she'd caused....
He needed to end this and leave. But he'd dropped his knife in his rush to stop Skye from escaping. He tried to drag her the few feet he had to move in order to reclaim it, but she understood his intent, and the panic that had immobilized her evaporated. Whatever pain she endured, she managed to ignore as she began to kick and fight as she'd fought four years ago.
"You won't win!" she kept screaming. "You won't win."
"I won with Noah," he said, grabbing a handful of her hair. "I won with Jane. What are you next to them?"
"Whatever I have to be," she said, and then the nails of her left hand found his cheek.
Skye knew she was fighting for her life, but that alone wasn't what gave her the strength she needed. It was the knowledge that she fought for her unborn baby, too, for David and the life they could have together if she came out of this alive. She wouldn't let senseless violence cost her any more than it already had. She'd dedicated her life to stopping it, and she would stop this.
Ignoring the pain radiating up her arm from her injured hand, pain so acute it made her nauseous, she used the momentary advantage she'd gained with her nails to kick Oliver in the stomach and then the groin.
He let go of her hair and doubled up. But he didn't stay that way long enough for her to get back on her feet. Her only option was to come up with a weapon. Her purse wasn't far. She could crawl over to it. But even if she could retrieve her gun, she couldn't fire it. Without her dominant hand, she doubted she'd even be able to turn the muzzle in the right direction as quickly as necessary. Which left the knife.
God forbid...
In a split-second decision, she moved as if she was going to lunge for her purse, and he bought it. He grabbed the purse before she could reach it, but she rolled in the other direction and scooped up the knife. The last thing she saw was the surprise on Oliver's face when he realized she'd tricked him.
He fumbled with her purse, but he didn't even get it open before she sank his own knife as deep in his chest as she could.
Four years after the first incident, Skye had stabbed Oliver Burke 286
again. Only this time she'd hit something vital. She could tell by how quickly the strength fled his limbs. He gasped and slumped on top of her, but she pushed him off and managed to scramble away.
She immediately started searching her purse for her gun. But when her mind caught up with the adrenaline flowing through her body, she dropped it. She didn't need a gun. Oliver wasn't moving.
"Help me!" he whispered, but his expression was almost sardonic, as if he was tempting her to refuse him, to reveal that she could be as inhumane as he.
Skye was shaking so badly, she wasn't sure she could move even if she wanted to. The pain that her body had momentarily blocked out was returning. She felt sick, lightheaded. But something he'd said earlier worried her.
"Where's Jane?" she asked. 'Tell me where she is and I'll stop the bleeding, call the paramedics."
"No.. .you wouldn't." He tried to shake his head. "Not... for me."
"I'd do it for anyone." she said. "That's how we're different. But you have to tell me what you've done with Jane."
"Janey..." He flinched as if his wife's nickname brought him more pain. "She's..." He gasped, fighting for a few more seconds. "She's in bed with...with Noah... where she belongs." Then he gave Skye a bittersweet smile, as if he'd just told the funniest joke in the world, and was gone for good.
David received Skye's call as he reached the outskirts of Sacramento.
"I'm almost there," he said. "I'll check on Lynnette and be right over."
"Don't go to the delta house."
He felt his eyebrows go up. "Why not?"
"I'm at the hospital."
That feeling he'd had earlier, the one that had prompted him to call her so many times, returned. "What's wrong?" he said urgently.
"Oliver Burke's dead."
"How do you know?"
"He came after me."
Instinctively, he gave the car more gas, wishing he could get to her sooner. He'd sent a deputy from the sheriff's office to stay with her. Had the deputy not made it in time? "What happened?"
"He was waitin' for me when I got home. I had to stab him. I couldn't use my right han'."
Her words were starting to slur, and he wondered if she was on some medication.
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"He slammed it in the door when I was tryin' to get 'way," she continued. "I--I smashed sev'ral bones in my han'. They're goin' to operate."
David clenched his jaw. "Didn't Deputy Meeks come?"
"He came... after."
"Did you tell the doctor you're pregnant, Skye? Before they gave you whatever they gave you?"
"'Course."
"That's good. And.. .do you think..." He was afraid to ask about the baby for fear of what the answer might be.
"Babe's gonna be fine. I'm 'cited 'bout the babe."
He sighed in relief. She was hanging on to that thought, and so was he. He knew she was struggling to stay conscious. But then she said something that shocked him.
"Jane's in crit'cal condition."
"Jane Burke?"
"By.. .time they got to her, she'd--she nearly.. .bled to death. I don't know.. .how she held on.. .so long. Stabbed.. .in the neck, missed jugular by.. .a fraction."
It was more and more difficult to understand her. "What are you talking about, Skye? Oliver tried to kill Jane?"
'"Fore me. Found out 'bout Noah."
"Is Noah okay?"
"Noah's dead."
That came through clearly enough. But was it true, or was Skye beginning to imagine things because of the meds? "Skye, what hospital are you in?"
She didn't answer. The phone changed hands and someone else came on the line. "Detective Willis?"
"Yes?"
"This is Wanda Neely. I'm a nurse here at Mercy American River. As you can probably tell, Ms. Kellerman can't talk anymore. It's time to take her in for surgery."
"Tell her I'll be there when she gets out," he said. "Tell her I'll be waiting for her."
He could hear the smile in the nurse's voice when she responded. "I'll tell her."
"Do it now, while she's still conscious enough to understand."
"I will. Don't worry, Detective. She'll be fine. She's one strong lady."
David tried to swallow the lump suddenly clogging his throat. "Thank God," he murmured and hung up.
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Skye stood at the door of the hospital room, waiting for some acknowledgment from the woman lying in the bed. She hadn't come to upset Jane. She just wanted to be sure the woman who'd been Oliver's wife was okay. Jane had lost so much--her faith in the man she'd once loved, the life of the man she now loved, the father of her daughter. Skye understood what those kinds of losses were like, how lonely it could be when you felt so different from everyone else.
Movement in the bed told Skye that Jane had seen her. Their eyes met for several seconds, then Jane waved. "Come in."
Since her right hand was in a cast, Skye carried the flowers she'd brought in her left. She set them on the small, rolling table as she looked around, relieved to see that hers weren't the only ones. Jane had been in the hospital for over two weeks, but there was still a giant bouquet on the side table, and a simpler one on the windowsill.
"Those are from Oliver's parents," Jane explained when Skye's eyes focused on them.
"That's nice." She paused. "How are they taking the news?"
Okye
"Hard. Like any parents would. They've lost both their boys. But--"
her voice faltered "--but at least they're not blaming me for what Oliver did.
They know they were wrong about him all along." Her voice dropped. "We all were."
"I'm glad they're being supportive."
"These are from Kate." Tears glistened in Jane's eyes as she held up a picture her daughter had drawn of an assortment of flowers, most of which resembled tulips.
"Those are the loveliest flowers here," Skye said.
"I agree." She stared at the picture for a few more seconds.
"And what about the flowers in that vase?" Skye motioned to the windowsill.
"Those are from my friend Danielle. I work with her."
Skye nodded. "They're keeping you on at the salon, then?"
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"Yeah."
"That's good."
Jane set her daughter's picture aside. "I owe you an apology."
Skye raised her hand. "No, you don't. I didn't come here for that. I just wanted to see how you're doing."
"I'm going to be okay, but only because of you. I blamed you for everything, and it was Oliver. I can't tell you how I wish I'd seen the truth and moved on. I was...weak and stupid." She grimaced. "Nothing like you."
"Sometimes we see what we want to see, Jane. I'm guilty of that, too."
"But you tried to tell me. So did Detective Willis. I'm.. .sorry." She reached out, and Skye took her hand.
"Don't even think about it."
Jane smiled through the tears that slipped down her cheeks. Then she sniffed and adjusted the bed to sit up a little higher. "I hear you and the detective are getting married."
"Who told you?"
"He did. He comes by every couple of days to check on me. He's very excited. About the wedding and the baby."
Skye felt a warmth that had everything to do with complete contentment. "So am I."
"When's the big day?"
"In two weeks."
"I hope you'll be happy."
"Thank you."
"Will you be staying on at The Last Stand?"
"I'm pretty sure I've got my husband-to-be used to the idea," she said with a laugh. "But it hasn't been easy."
"Because of the baby."
"Because of the baby." She nodded. "I'll be doing classes and fundraising but no more case work. Not until our children are older."
"I'm glad you'll still be around. I might take some of the classes you offer. I'm thinking they could help me heal."
Skye set her purse on the foot of the bed and used her left hand to retrieve her business card. "That's probably a good idea. You can call this number to get the schedule. If you need a ride or anything, let me know and I'll pick you up or arrange for someone else to do it."
Jane accepted the card. "You're so nice. You and Detective Willis are perfect for each other."
"We're in love," Skye said simply.
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ISBN: 978-1-4268-1763-2
TRUST ME
Copyright (c) 2008 by Brenda Novak.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, MIRA Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road. Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
MIRA and the Star Colophon are trademarks used under license and registered in Australia, New Zealand, Philippines, United States Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries.
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