Last Seen Alive (45 page)

“Why did you bring me out here, Ned?” Chyna asked. “If my death is going to be blamed on Gage, you could have killed me and left me anywhere.”

“Old man Dickens has owned this place for fifty years. Even when it closed down, he wouldn’t sell it. But he’s dying. As soon as he’s gone, his children are going to sell it to a company planning on turning it into a shopping mall. Digging will probably start on it next spring. Then they’ll find the skeletons. Naturally, Gage would put his last Black Willow victim here with all the others, knowing they wouldn’t be discovered for so long. It’s so much safer to shoot Gage out here in the middle of nowhere before I haul him away.” Ned looked at her with a strange, skewed tenderness. “And I want to bury you with Zoey, Chyna. That will please both of you.”

Ned took a deep breath, stood up, and stretched. “Well, I think we’ve talked long enough. I can’t be gone half the night again. Beverly’s going to start thinking I’m having an affair.” He laughed. “Gage, since you enjoy looking at women so much, I’m going to let you watch me kill my sister before I kill you. Special treat since you’re being good enough to take the blame for me.” Ned looked at Chyna. ’Take off your clothes.”

She sat perfectly still, staring at him. No, this can’t be happening, she thought. I know that he’s sick, I know he’s done unspeakable things, but not this. Please, Zoey, Mom, somebody,
help
me…

“I said, Take… off… your… clothes,’” Ned repeated evenly.

Gage made a raspy, growling sound and began thrashing

beneath his blanket. Ned whirled on him. “Think you’re going to save her? You can’t even save yourself, so shut up and quit distracting me or I’ll go ahead and kill you first.”

Gage grew quiet, but his eyes continued to burn at Ned. He would kill Ned if he got the chance, Chyna knew with absolute clarity, as much for his long-lost Edie as to save his own life. But he wouldn’t get the chance.

Chyna started to stand. “You don’t have to stand up to take off your clothes,” Ned snapped.

“No, but I can get them off twice as fast this way, and if this is inevitable, I’d like to get it over with quickly.” The words came out in Chyna’s voice with just the right mixture of fear and resolution, but she had not meant to say them. Someone else had said the words in her voice. Someone else was with her, maybe even within her, she realized. Should she try to figure out what was going on? No. The thought went off like a gong in her head. No. Let go. Let someone else take control.

Chyna took off her coat, then pulled off the heavy sweater she wore over a lightweight blouse. She still held Zoey’s necklace in her left hand, so she began unbuttoning her blouse using only the fingers of her right hand. She let the blouse slide off, then stepped out of her shoes. The cold concrete floor seemed to bite through her thin trouser socks, but she tried to show no discomfort. She unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, then pulled them down to her ankles. It was then Ned asked sharply, “Why are you keeping your left hand clenched? What do you have in there?” He jumped up, pried open her hand, looked at the necklace, then threw back his head and laughed. “Oh God, Chyna, I know you’re a freak, but really! What the hell good do you think dragging Zoey’s necklace around is going to do you? Are you going to jab me in the eye with it? Or is she sending you secret signals through it?”

“The latter,” Chyna replied calmly though truthfully. But Ned only continued to laugh. Then, abruptly, he stopped. “Drop it.”

“I thought you thought my holding it was stupid.”

“I do, but… well… just drop it.”

“What’s wrong? Beginning to get a little spooked by my supposedly crazy ESP?”

“Drop it!” Ned snarled. “Drop it this instant or I’ll shoot Gage.”

Much as she feared losing contact with Zoey, Chyna did as Ned said. She didn’t like the look in his eye or the sweat beginning to run down his face even though the little building was growing colder by the minute. She kicked the jeans away, took off her socks, then stood in front of her brother wearing only a lace bra and bikini underpants. “Will this do, or are you going to insist on full nudity?”

“Gage and I would like to see everything,” Ned said. “After all, Kendrick has. We don’t want to be left out.”

Chyna reached behind her and began to unfasten her bra when suddenly the light of the flashlight dimmed. She thought the battery was giving out until she noticed that Ned hadn’t even glanced at the instrument. And just a moment ago she’d been able to hear Gage breathing, his breath roughened, no doubt, by the cold and dehydration. No, the room was changing for no one but Chyna, she realized as the room darkened even more and finally disappeared to be replaced by the sight of cars racing up the highway—two police cars with lights flashing and sirens wailing and a new blue Mercury with Scott Kendrick behind the wheel. Was she seeing reality or only a wild delusion of hope?

“What’s the matter?” Ned demanded. “Does it always take you this long to get undressed?”

Chyna fumbled with the clasp, then felt the bra fall away. She could not see her brother, though. She could not see Gage or the room. She only saw the cars on the road. But she couldn’t let Ned sense that anything was happening to her except that she was beginning to be afraid. He’d like that. It’s what he wanted most. To inspire fear.

She slid her right thumb down her abdomen until it touched the elastic top of her panties. She did the same with her left thumb, then curled her fingers over the material. Her body was covered with chill bumps from the cold. She could

feel the bumps, but she could not see them. Only the cars. She saw them pass a huge billboard advertising the country fair, a billboard she knew to be only about a mile from here, and a new fear hit her. The sirens. Cut the sirens, she thought desperately. Cut the sirens!

“What’s wrong, Sis?” Ned asked. “Looked like some kind of spasm crossed your face. Are you suddenly getting as scared as you should be?”

Chyna heard Ned, but just barely. He’d said something about being scared. She blurted out, “I’m cold. I’m embarrassed. I’m scared. Satisfied?”

“Yeah, but you don’t have to shout. Nice body, wouldn’t you say, Gage? Except that you can’t say anything. However, I’d rate it an eight on a scale of ten. Maybe a nine? No, let’s not go overboard because she’s my sister. An eight. Now Beverly…”

The sirens. The sirens. Oh God, the sirens! Maybe she could only hear them because of what Zoey was allowing her to experience, but Chyna had seen the billboard. She couldn’t let Ned hear the sirens. “I’m cold!” she screamed. “Damn it, how long do I have to stand here freezing to death? You’ve seen me, Ned! You’ve humiliated me! Why don’t you get the hell on with whatever you’re going to do?”

“Good God, Chyna, shut your mouth!” Ned yelled. She heard him perfectly. She heard nothing else. She nearly fainted with relief. They’d turned off the sirens. “You want me to get on with things? Fine.”

Ned laid down the flashlight, its light still glowing, stood, and came toward her. She knew running toward the door would be useless. Two steps and he’d have her. Chyna shut her eyes. Where were the police cruisers? Where was Scott? Nothing. She saw nothing but darkness. Heart seeming to drop into her stomach, she continued to stand as tall and motionless as possible, her entire body quivering from cold and fear. Automatically her arms covered her breasts. Her eyes were still shut tight when she felt her brother slide his arm around her face and slap his hand over her mouth just like he’d done to the other girls.

Then she smelled the chloroform. She wouldn’t breathe, she thought wildly. She held her breath for as long as she could. She tried to jerk her head from side to side. But Ned was strong. He pushed down on the cloth so hard she thought he was going to break her nose. And, involuntarily, her oxygen-deprived body drew long and hard on the cloth. Immediately the world felt fuzzy. She tried to cough and couldn’t. She tried to hold her breath and couldn’t. She gasped, inhaled, then felt her body begin to sag…

Shouting. Outside. Inside. A gun went off. Dizzily she looked over and saw Gage slump against the wall. Another blast. The door flew open. Ned leaped away from her and she sank to the floor, raising her head just in time to see him hurl himself at a policeman. A gun went off. Again. Again.

A moment later, someone was beside her. “It’s all right, sweetheart,” a deep, familiar voice murmured in her ear. “I don’t think you’re hurt. Just cold. Put my coat on.”

“S-Scott?” Chyna murmured. “My brother?”

Scott’s arms tightened around her, and he pressed her head to his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Chyna, but it’s for the best. Your brother will never hurt anyone again.”

Beverly carefully laid a folded comforter in a packing box along with sheets and blankets and closed and taped the lid, then stood aside as Chyna wrote “bedding” on the top. Beverly looked at the word for a moment, then glanced up at Chyna. “We’ve been packing for two hours. I think we deserve a refreshment break.”

Five minutes later, the two women sat at the kitchen table sipping soft drinks. “I thought I’d be living in this house for the rest of my life,” Beverly said, looking around the small kitchen with its bare counters. “I can’t believe that in less than a week my whole world has changed and I’m moving to Albuquerque, of all places.”

“Would you rather go somewhere else?” Chyna asked gently.

Beverly shook her head. “As young as the children are, people are already saying things to Kate about Ned. I know I’ll have to explain everything to them someday, but not now, not for a long time. They’re still reeling just from their daddy’s death. If they knew
why
he died …” Beverly’s eyes filled with tears and Chyna reached over and took her left hand, a hand still bearing her gold wedding ring. Beverly swallowed. “I hope you don’t mind that we’re trailing after you to Albuquerque. My parents are dead, Vivian, Rex and

Ned are gone, and my sister is a newlywed with all the problems that entails, but I feel the children need to be near
some
family besides me.”

“I’m glad you feel I might be a help,” Chyna said. “But I think the biggest help won’t be me—it’ll be Michelle.”

Beverly erupted with a tearful laugh. “I don’t mean to insult you, but I believe you’re right. They’re crazy about that dog.”

“And she can’t get enough of them, so that relationship will work out fine.”

Beverly took a sip of her Diet Coke and straightened the sleeves of her navy blue sweater. Bev’s hair was sparkling clean, but for once she wore no jewelry or makeup. “Chyna, are you sure that even though we’re going to get our own place, we aren’t going to be a bother to you? I know how hard you work at the hospital, and with Scott coming down, too—”

“Scott is moving to Albuquerque for the climate,” Chyna said. Beverly grinned and rolled her eyes. “Oh, okay, his doctors say he needs a couple of more months to heal because he’s decided to go back to flying, thank God. But he feels he can do that best in a place far away from Black Willow. He says this place gives him the creeps now. He’d been sleepwalking for weeks before the incident at the drive-in. He said the morning after Deirdre was taken, he woke up with scratches all over him and rust-colored stains in the engraving on that ivory-topped walking stick of his. He was afraid he’d hurt someone with it, but the blood was his own from all the scratches and cuts on his hands. He says he woke up and found himself sitting on the edge of our fountain the night Gage disappeared. That scared the hell out of him.” She smiled faintly. “He was driven to drinking warm milk.”

“Oh, good heavens,” Bev played along with a weak smile.

“Scott thought maybe he’d been so traumatized by the crash, he’d been doing awful things to people in the night. He’d been getting counseling, but he was on the verge of going to a psychiatric ward within the next couple of days.

Thank goodness that isn’t necessary. He’s mentally sound, but you can see how he really needs a change of scene, a completely different place, to get back both his complete physical and emotional health.”

Beverly’s mouth pulled to the right as she tried to hide a grin. “Chyna, honey, he’s going to Albuquerque to be with you. Why can’t you just admit that?”

Chyna felt her cheeks warm and finally said, “I don’t know. Because I’m afraid this is all too good to be true? Because I’m scared that my relationship with Scott is only based on the ordeal we went through together, not anything
real?”

“It isn’t based on the ordeal,” Beverly said firmly. “You’ve had feelings for him for years. And I know he’s felt the same way—he just got into the habit of thinking of you as a kid, so you were hands-off. He sort of missed that you’d grown up.” She smiled. “Men can be slow sometimes.”

“Yeah. But Scott certainly wasn’t slow when it came to saving me. I’d forgotten that he said he’d stop by the house when he got back from his doctor’s appointment. When no one came to the door and he found it unlocked, he came in and saw Rex on the floor. Thank God Rex was still alive and conscious enough to tell Scott that Ned had shot him and taken me to the Star Light Drive-in. Poor Rex. He was in such agony before he died, but he saved me.” Chyna sighed. “It almost makes me forgive him for how he betrayed my father with Mom for all those years.”

“Rex saved you and so did Scott. Scott saved Gage, too. I heard he only got a shoulder wound.”

“Yes. And freedom from the cloud of doubt that’s hung over him ever since Edie Larson disappeared.”

Beverly’s eyes filled with tears again. “Now everyone knows Ned killed her. And Zoey. And Heather. And Rusty. And, if it hadn’t been for you, Deirdre. You said you kept hearing Zoey singing, ’Star light, star bright,’ and Deirdre worked in her father’s cafe, L’Etoile, French for ’star’. Do you think that was a coincidence?”

“I have no idea,” Chyna said sincerely. “I guess I have

this gift, or burden, whatever it is, but I can’t explain it. And I can’t control it, either. That’s the most frustrating part of the whole thing.”

“You can’t explain your gift; I can’t explain how I married a man, had two children with him, loved him dearly, and had no idea he was a serial killer. God, that sounds like a tabloid headline, but it’s true. Chyna, I never had a clue.”