Her hands flew up to her mouth to stifle a scream, but didn’t quite manage to stop it. The sound of her voice echoed in the room, bounced off the walls, and came back to her like an insult.
Cindy sat in the rocking chair, hands holding a large picture book of Blue Beard’s legend as if she were just about to start her afternoon children’s story time. Her eyes stared sightlessly straight ahead. From the rounded cavity at her temple ran a thin, dark line. It curved around her hairline, following the contours of her face.
Help her. Help her
, a voice inside Juliana begged. But she could not move.
“Close your eyes,” Lucas ordered as he rushed to Cindy. But Juliana could not. Just as she could not seem to catch her next breath.
Lucas felt for a pulse. Then his gaze fell to the open pages of the book on Cindy’s lap. He swore, snatched a piece of paper, and stuffed it in his pocket.
“What is it?” Juliana squeaked.
“We have to go,” he said, urging Juliana to move.
She continued staring at Cindy. “We can’t just leave her like this.”
“She’s dead, Juliana.” He grabbed her by both arms and turned her toward the door. “There’s nothing we can do for her.”
Her limbs moved like hardening cement. Were her feet still beneath her? “Shouldn’t we call the police?”
“After we’ve left.” He grabbed the sides of her face and forced her to look at him. “Listen, Jewel. We have to get out of here. We can’t be here when the police arrive. I need you to stay with me right now.”
Helplessly, she turned once more to the unmoving woman in the chair. “She—”
“Is dead.”
Dead. Someone she barely knew. Someone who’d been an accessory in her daughter’s kidnapping. It shouldn’t hurt this much. It shouldn’t matter. But it did. She’d been alive. Now she was dead. Gone. Her fault. Shaking her head, Juliana dispersed the thought. No, not her fault. Just as her father’s death wasn’t her fault. Just as her mother’s death wasn’t her fault.
“Juliana,” Lucas whispered into her ear. “Let’s go.”
Numb all over, she nodded and turned away from the body. Somehow, she manage to reach the car. She couldn’t stop shaking. Lucas turned the heater on high, but even that didn’t help. Once out of the parking lot, he stopped at the nearest convenience store and placed a call. As they turned off Main Street onto Maple, the wail of sirens shrilled behind them.
“He killed her,” she mumbled, setting off a new wave of shivers. Her feet seemed encased in ice. Her hands tingled with swarming ants.
“He’s getting desperate. Things aren’t going as planned anymore and to regain control, he has to do more.”
“He killed her.” He’d been living with her, was her lover, and he’d killed her. “Just like that.”
Lucas reached for her with one hand and held her as close as he could with the gear box between them. “It’s going to be all right, Juliana. Hang on just a bit longer, okay?”
“He killed her.”
“I know.” Lucas parked in front of her house, but didn’t turn off the engine. Instead, he gently cradled her chin with one hand, forcing her gaze to lift to his. “I want you to pack an overnight bag.”
The look in his eyes had a seriousness that set off a fresh surge of alarm. “Why?”
“We can’t stay here tonight. We’re going to have to disappear.”
“Why?” Her heart knocked hard against her ribs.
“We’re going to have a lot of people looking for us.”
“Your people?”
He nodded. “FBI, police. Willy.”
“Willy?”
“He’s not done, Juliana.” Lucas ran his thumb along her jaw line in a soothing manner. In his eyes, swam regret and pain. “He wants the Sapphire. He’s determined to get it.”
“Any way at all—including murder.” A new fear raged through her. She grabbed Lucas’s wrists, hanging on for dear life. Oh, God. He’d killed once. Killing a second time would come more easily. “Briana—”
“Is safe,” Lucas said soothingly. “I promise you she’s safe. He doesn’t know where she is.”
“I have to call her. I have to—” She fumbled through the car’s interior, searching for Lucas’s digital phone. In her purse. She’d put it in her purse. The zipper slipped from her frozen fingers twice before she could hold onto it. She stirred the contents, but couldn’t find the phone. In desperation, she dumped the whole thing onto her lap.
Lucas took the phone from her lap and dialed for her, then handed it back to her.
“Caitlynn, this is Juliana,” she said, one palm over her heart. “How’s Briana?”
“She’s just fine. She and Jonah are just finishing up watching
Hannah Montana
. I know it’s late, but I couldn’t bear to say no when Jonah was having so much fun. They’re taking the film apart. Briana’s quite an insightful little girl. And it’s so good to hear Jonah laugh. She’s been waiting for your call.”
“One late night won’t hurt.” Juliana managed a weak smile. Briana was safe and happy. Her hand dropped from her heart, unconsciously sought a warm connection and found Lucas. “Can I speak with her?”
“Sure. Hang on.”
She spoke with Briana for a while, slowly allowing the ice flowing through her veins to thaw. The soft rumble of the engine, the fan of warmth from the heater, Lucas’s gentle stroking of her hand, all helped settle her raw nerves.
“I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”
Briana asked to talk to Lucas and begged a story from him. He did an admirable job of it, considering their situation. He would make a good father. She choked back ready tears.
“Go pack,” he told her as he turned the phone off. “We really need to get going.”
“Okay.”
He walked her to the house.
“Everything all right?” asked Ella. She stood on the porch, one of Albert’s gray cardigans wrapped around her shoulders.
“I’ll go check the house,” Lucas said, taking the key from her hand. He looked strained, on alert. And for once, she was thankful for his police skills.
“Oh, Ella, no,” Juliana said, taking Ella’s hand in hers. “Everything’s wrong, but I don’t have time to explain. I want you and Albert to go away for a few days. I’ll pay for a hotel. You have to leave now, tonight. The house might not be safe.”
“Why?”
“The Phantom. He killed Cindy, the children’s librarian.”
Ella gasped. “Briana?”
Juliana shook her head, her throat suddenly tight. “He doesn’t know where she is. She’s safe. The police are going to be coming around soon. You should leave.”
Ella nodded gravely. “We’ll go back to my sister’s. What about you?”
“I’ll be fine,” Juliana reassured, although the word had lost all meaning.
“If there’s anything we can do….”
“Stay safe.”
Ella nodded again and tottered back inside. “Albert, Albert…”
Juliana turned back to her half of the duplex and rubbed opposite arms with her hands, trying to alleviate the returning chill in her bones. The tulip tree had shed most of its blossoms. They lay scattered on the grass like great big tears. The butter-yellow paint no longer seemed soft and cozy. The rocker no longer lured an invitation.
She’d chosen them all with such care. The town with almost no crime. The white picket fence. The postcard house.
A safe haven for her and Briana. That’s all she’d wanted.
All along it had been nothing more than an illusion.
Chapter 15
“Feeling better?” Lucas asked, studying her with his deep, dark eyes as if she were in danger of shattering into pieces. The intensity of the look was as disturbing as the thoroughness of its surveillance. Could he see through all the layers to the cold, empty heart she feared would never warm again?
Then again maybe she didn’t want warmth. Warmth would require thought. Thought would engage feelings. And right now, she didn’t want to feel. Not until the frank edge of horror had rasped away to something less. She feared the image of Cindy’s dead eyes had etched a permanent scar on her psyche.
“I’m not going to fall apart,” Juliana said, as much to herself as to Lucas.
She tightened her grip around a cup of tea. The scent of peaches drifted to her on a slow waft from the warm liquid. Thick fleece and polar socks cocooned her body. Except for the bone-deep chill, she felt almost normal. She had no intention of going to pieces. She had Briana to worry about. She would not abandon her daughter. She would get through this.
Somehow.
She’d gone on autopilot for a while, let Lucas take command. With his usual efficiency, he’d whisked her to a hotel in Manchester, registered them under, she presumed, a false name, commanded her to take a hot shower while he ordered room service, then forced her to eat a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup, buttered rolls, and to drink, what seemed to her, a gallon of hot tea. He’d offered to lace the tea with brandy. She’d refused. He’d insisted. A cottony buzz purred through her. But she’d regained control.
“You can if you want to,” he said with absolute seriousness. He turned his glass of straight scotch in small tight circles on the round table separating them.
The buzz suddenly intensified. “Can what?”
“Fall apart.”
“And what? You’d put me back together?” She scoffed, keeping her body still, barely squeezing a breath out of her lungs, refusing to admit even to herself she wanted his arms around her, his body against hers, his melting kiss to make her forget.
His gaze was intent and unwavering. “Would that be so bad?”
Oh, she wanted, how she wanted, but fear tempered the want. He would love her, then his job would call, and he would leave her.
“For how long?” Her pulse thundered past her ears. Bump, bump, bump.
“As long as you want.”
Bump
.
His answer trilled through her, rippling a need she had no intention of acting upon. She looked away, could not keep staring into those intense eyes and let the past obscure the present.
In this impersonal room with its beige carpet, its foam-backed curtains shutting out the night, and bland flowered blue-and-yellow comforters on matching full-size beds, he was the only familiar thing.
It’s the situation, not the man. Don’t confuse the two
.
“What now?” she asked, avoiding his gaze. Back to business. Safer that way. “We can’t hide forever.”
“We keep him off balance.”
“How?” She took a long sip of tea, felt the brandy dull the ache low in her belly.
He took out the note he’d found in Cindy’s book, spread it flat with his hand against the table, then slid it across the surface. It simply read in large capital letters, “I WANT WHAT’S MINE.”
“He wants the Sapphire,” Lucas said. “We’ll give him the Sapphire.”
She handed him back the note. “He has to know you won’t let him just walk away with it.”
“Which is why he’ll keep the time and place until he’s ready to escape with his prize. He’s tricked me before. He’s sure he can do it again.”
“Can he?” She tried to catch the words, but didn’t quite manage. There were no guarantees. Asking for any was unfair.
“I’m sorry,” she said, rising from her chair. Nervous energy thrummed through her, setting her in motion. “How will you contact him?”
“He’ll find a way to contact me. He always does.”
She nodded, running a hand through her hair. Lucas’s unshakable calm could be downright irritating. “I’ll call Louis Bickman first thing in the morning to see if he’s through with the replica.”
“Try to get some sleep until then.”
The edge of fear returned, making her pace faster as she rubbed her arms. “I couldn’t possibly sleep.”
Grasping her hand, Lucas headed toward the far bed, pulled down the comforter, and patted the mattress. “Go to bed, Jewel. You’ll feel better in the morning.”
She doubted it, but crawled between the sheets anyway. She wasn’t up to an argument. She closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. Immediately, an image of Cindy’s dead eyes flashed across her lids. Gasping, she opened her eyes again, and pressed both hands against her racing heart.