Color of Forgiveness (48 page)

Her mouth drops open and her eyes bulge at
the scene before her. Instinctually, her arm immediately raises her
finger firmly on the trigger as she aims the gun at the chest of
the person standing before her.

“Myra, Myra. I wasn’t quite ready for you
yet,” a shrill voice calls out. “Why don’t you scurry back on
upstairs where you belong?”

* * *

Dylan leaves his truck running and jumps out
of it. “What the fuck are you doing in Nyssa?” he shouts.

She rolls her eyes and continues pumping her
gas.

He walks around to where she’s at. “Did you
hear me? What the hell are you doing here?”

Her eyes flash with anger at him before she
shoves the nozzle back into the pump and quickly twists the cap
onto her gas tank. “Why can’t you answer your phone? If you had
just bothered to listen to
one
of my voicemails—”

“Is this because someone questioned you this
morning?”

“Not even close… but I am so pissed at you
over that. How could you send a cop to my house to question me?
What the hell is wrong with you? How could you think so low of
me?”

“Because you’ve given me a lot of reasons to
think you could with the way you showed up at Myra’s house
basically threatening her and shit. And then when I talked to you
the other day, you went on about how you’d do anything to get us
back together again. That’s some suspicious shit right there.”

“No, it isn’t. I just wanted us to try to
work on getting back together, that’s all. I had nothing to do with
what’s been happening to you and Myra,
nothing
. I am beyond
hurt that you could even think that I could be involved in
something like that.”

His eyes narrow. “You still haven’t answered
my question… why are you here?”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “I’m
not going to talk to you about this right here at the pump.
Besides, it’s cold out here.”

“Fine… pull over into a parking space over
there,” he says, nodding towards some empty spaces behind her.

She turns and looks then nods at him. Dylan
jumps into his truck and pulls into the space next to her. He gets
out and slips into her front seat. Flipping on the heater, she rubs
her hands together for a moment. “After I was visited by the cop
this morning, I went to work. I was so pissed off I couldn’t think
straight so I ended up leaving a little early, and when I got home,
there was a package on my doorstep. I opened it and it was your
photo album.”

His mouth drops open. “
What?
”

She turns in her seat towards him. “Whoever
stole your photo album is a sick, sick person… I’m talking scary
sick.”

His stomach drops and his breath hitches.
His hands that rest on his knees clench into tight fists. “What do
you mean?”

“They cut my face out of every picture and
made a disturbing collage. It had all of these things written on it
that…” She stares at him for a moment and shakes her head. “Let’s
just say it scared the hell out of me. I shoved the thing back in
the box and threw it in the trunk and immediately left my house. I
was terrified that whoever sent it might still be hanging around,
watching me or something.

“I didn’t know what to do. I thought about
calling the cop that questioned me this morning, but I threw his
card out the window on my way to work. So I went over to my mom’s
house and showed it to her. She felt like I did that you two might
be in danger so I stayed there and tried calling you; I even tried
calling Sherri and Natalie, but just got their voicemail. I stayed
over at moms until she had to leave for work. I told her that since
I couldn’t get ahold of you that maybe I should drive here and try
to warn you guys and turn the album into the police here. She
agreed.

“So I drove here and went to your house
first, but you weren’t home. Then I went to Myra’s and I was
so
relieved when I saw that cop car in her driveway. I told
Porter everything that happened. He told me that he was going to be
staying with Myra and asked me if I could drop the album off at the
police station. So that’s what I just did. He’s going to send it
off to the crime lab to see if they can get any fingerprints or DNA
samples off of it.

“I’m headed back to my mom’s house. I’m not
going home. Because whoever did this knows where I live. I plan on
staying with her for a while until they figure this thing out.”

Dylan pulls out his phone and flips it
open.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

He looks up at her, his eyes narrowing. “I’m
calling Porter,” he says, dialing his number. “I’m not letting you
out of my sight until I confirm your story.” His eyes stay on her
as the phone begins to ring.

* * *

Myra frowns, her hand that holds the gun
shaking as she stares at the woman before her. Her face looks
vaguely familiar even though Myra’s quite certain she doesn’t know
her. The woman looks to be in her 40’s, slightly overweight with
curly blond hair. Her clothes are casual… jeans with a T-shirt and
an unbuttoned blue flannel shirt over the top of it that also looks
vaguely familiar…

“Wh-what are you doing?” Myra asks, her
voice trembling and sounding out of breath. Her gaze darts from the
gun pointed at the head of an unconscious Porter slumped over in
the recliner, to the two cans of gasoline sitting on the floor next
to it. The phone attached to his belt is ringing.

“Ah, Porter’s just taking a little nap,
aren’t you, Porter?” the unknown woman says with a giggle, patting
him on the head. But then her eyes immediately narrow. “Don’t you
dare try anything,” she says in a low voice as she shoves the gun
pointed at Porter’s head a little harder. With her eyes constantly
on Myra’s, she leans down and pulls Porter’s ringing phone from his
belt and silences it before dropping it to the floor.

“Myra, Myra, you’ve been making things
incredibly difficult for me… most difficult. You just don’t know
how to take a hint, do you? What was it going to take to get you
back to Philly with Susie where you belong, huh? What was I going
to have to do next? I never wanted to hurt anyone, that’s never
been my intent, but you just seem to be leaving me with no
choice.”

“I-I don’t even know who you are,” Myra
stutters.

“Hmm… that’s true…
but I know who you
are
,” she sing-songs with a giggle. “I’ve said hi to you at the
grocery store on three separate occasions, but you never bothered
to talk to me. It’s your loss, I suppose.”

Myra glances down at Porter again and
notices a plate of cookies on the coffee table. “What did you do to
him?” she asks, swallowing back bile.

“Oh, I just brought him a little snack. He
gobbled it right up, just like he always does,” she says, smiling
widely and seemingly pleased with herself. But then her face
completely contorts with hatred. “Don’t think he’s going to wake up
any time soon to save you because he won’t,” she spits. She smiles
again, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Her eyes stay dark and
evil.

Myra swallows hard. “What do you want?” she
asks her heart pounding ferociously. She can faintly hear her phone
start to ring upstairs.

“
What do I want?
” the woman repeats
in an incredulous voice. “
What do I want?
” she repeats
again, her voice louder and raising an octave before laughs
hysterically. “I want Dylan, of course.”

A sick, wicked grin crosses her face. “Would
you like a cookie?” she asks before giggling, the only light from
the TV casting strange shadows across her face.

* * *

Dylan feels like he literally can’t breathe
as he dials Porter’s number again. When the voicemail comes on
again, his stomach rolls violently. There should be no fucking
reason for Porter not to answer his phone. He quickly hangs up and
dials Myra’s phone again, his heart banging against his ribcage
with every ring that passes with no answer. He snaps his phone shut
when he hears the voicemail and leans over, turning Sabrina’s car
off and snatching the keys out of the ignition. “You’re coming with
me,” he growls at her.

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Porter and Myra aren’t answering their
phones,” he says through gritted teeth as he opens the car door and
slams it shut.

Sabrina grabs her bag and gets out. “Porter
was fine when I left. I never did see Myra, though, she stayed
upstairs.”

“Just get in the truck.”

Dylan’s hands shake as he tries to put the
key in the ignition. He looks over at Sabrina, his eyes narrowing.
Is she lying about everything? Did she make up this whole story
about the photo album?

“Why wouldn’t they answer their phones?”
Sabrina asks with a frown before her eyes widen and her face pales.
“You don’t think whoever messed with the album could be there, do
you? Shouldn’t we call the police first?”

“Porter
is
the goddamn police. Let’s
just go over there and see what’s going on. If you did anything to
them, Sabrina, I swear to fuck I will—”

“I didn’t! Jesus, Dylan. I didn’t do
anything, and I’ll prove it to you when we get there.”

Dylan stays quiet as drives as fast as he
can to Myra’s house. His stomach churns and he feels like he might
get sick at any moment. Something has happened… something bad. He
can just sense it.

If anything happened to Myra… He winces, his
breath catching in his throat as he presses his hand hard over his
heart and drives faster.

* * *

Myra’s arms shake, the weight of the gun
heavy in her hands, but she stays alert and focused, waiting for
her opportunity. All she needs is one shot, just one.

“I’ll let you have him… Dylan,” Myra says
quickly. “There’s no need to kill me. You two can be together.”

The woman’s eyes narrow. “And how would that
work?”

“I’ll break up with him. I’ll go back to
Philly. You two can stay here… together.”

The unknown woman’s eyes narrow. “You think
you’re so smart, don’t you?”

Myra shakes her head.

“You do!” she screams, a crazed look in her
eyes. “You think you’re smarter than me but you’re not! Jackie told
me you two broke up yet here he is every day with
you!
He
can’t stay away from
you!
”

Myra flinches at the ferocity in her
voice.

The woman’s face immediately relaxes.
“There’s only one way to make this little problem go away… I just
have to make
you
go away, far far away…” she says in a
dreamy voice.

* * *

When Dylan turns onto Myra’s street, he
holds his breath and leans forward, trying to see Myra’s driveway.
He lets out a shaky breath and slumps back in his seat when he sees
only Porter’s cruiser in her driveway. Maybe Porter and Myra are
okay…

But then his body stiffens, and he sneaks a
glance at Sabrina. Did
she
do something to them before she
left? Could she be the one that…?

He pulls in behind Porter’s cruiser and
shuts off his truck. “All right, let’s go see what’s going on and
confirm your story.”

Sabrina rolls her eyes at him before she
opens the truck door and gets out.

* * *

Myra desperately wants to take a shot when
the woman looks down at Porter but she can’t risk it. The gun
pointed at Porter’s head might go off. “I really hate that he’s
here,” the woman says in a voice laden with pity. “He’s always been
so nice to me. It’s too bad he has to die. Should I just go ahead
and put a bullet in his brain now or should I let him burn?” She
looks up at Myra with excitement glowing in her sick eyes as her
lips curl into an evil smile. “Do you think he’ll feel it, since
he’s asleep? Will he feel the flames burn his flesh like you
will?”

Myra’s mouth drops open as she stares at the
woman. But before she can do respond, someone pounds heavily on the
door. Myra’s eyes dart to it, a scream flying from her mouth. Her
body jerks all over, causing her to almost drop her gun. She hears
a gunshot ring out, piercing her ears. Terror spreads through every
inch of her body as her gaze darts from the door to Porter. The gun
that was pointed at his temple is now pointed at the door as the
woman stares at it with her mouth hanging open.

Myra reacts. She aims and fires a shot
directly into the woman’s knee, causing her to scream in pain and
collapse to the floor. Myra keeps her gun pointed straight at her
as she watches the woman reach for her shattered leg, her face
convulsing. Her face changes... it twists and contorts until her
eyes are wild and her lips form into a small grin. Her other arm
that was hidden behind her from Myra’s view comes up over her torso
as if in slow motion pointed directly at Myra. Myra fires again,
hitting the woman in the shoulder. The gun flies from the woman’s
hand to the hardwood floor with a loud clatter. Myra runs over and
kicks it away from her under the couch as the woman screams and
shrieks in agony.

Myra’s looks back at the door and there,
towards the middle and a little to the left is a hole. She frowns
when she sees light from her porch light shimmering through it and
wonders… who is on the other side of that door?

* * *

Dylan’s head turns and his brows knit
together. His eyes see the scene before him, but his brain can’t
seem to interpret the images because it doesn’t make any fucking
sense. Sabrina can’t be lying on the porch. That can’t be blood
seeping through the hole in her coat. And that sound that he heard…
that couldn’t have been gunfire, right?

Sabrina frowns and looks down. She touches
her shoulder and brings her hand to her face. Her lips part and her
eyes grow larger as she stares at the blood on it. “Wha…?” she
gasps before her frightened eyes immediately seek Dylan’s.

Dylan’s eyes widen because that was blood…
Sabrina’s bleeding. Sabrina’s been shot… somehow… from inside the
house.