Terminated (8 page)

She parked in the visitors’ lot and checked in at the main gate. Her hands were unnaturally cold, and her breakfast churned in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t have to go through with this. She could turn around and leave. It wouldn’t matter that Parker knew she’d backed out.
No
, she thought. She’d come this far and she had to face her monster.

“I have an appointment with one of the prisoners.”

“Inmates,” the corrections officer said. “We don’t call them prisoners.”

It was a slice of political correctness she didn’t let bother her.

The officer checked her name against the approved list of visitors and inspected her ID before letting her inside the prison. He quizzed her on any objects she was bringing in. “Nothing” was her answer. She owed Parker nothing, and he was getting exactly that, though she was expecting to leave with something. The officer handed her a visitor pass and she walked through an airport-style security checkpoint.

Another corrections officer introduced himself and escorted her to the visitor’s area.

“Do you know Desmond Parker?” Gwen asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you think he deserves parole?”

“I’ve been here all through his stay and he’s kept his nose clean.”

“Has he changed?”

“More than most.”

The officer showed her into an empty, communal
room filled with tables and chairs. It reminded Gwen of a drab, deserted cafeteria. There’d be no barrier between her and Parker. She picked out a table toward the middle of the room and sat down.

She was alone except for the guard. She sat waiting for Parker like he’d summoned her and not the other way around. The guard kept her pinned under his gaze. She fought the urge to strike up a conversation. She needed to focus.

A door opened and Parker entered, dressed in prison denim. Gwen’s heart rate jumped into high gear, but she did her best to keep her fears internalized.

Parker smiled at her, but she didn’t return the pleasantry.

Fifteen years of prison had changed him. The man who’d abducted her and stabbed her had been heavyset but strong. At first glance, she thought prison had eroded the latter quality, but then she noticed that even though he’d developed a paunch and lost some of his muscle, he still possessed the inherent strength that he’d used to overpower her all those years ago. Silver overran his chestnut-brown hair. He’d let it grow long, and it looked ratty. He’d entered prison a youthful thirty-nine years old, but time had etched deep lines into his face. He looked his age and then some. Gwen liked to think that prison had ravaged him.

He took the seat opposite her, and his smile broadened into a grin. Prison might have taken its toll on his body, but she doubted it had altered his soul. He was still the man he’d been all those years ago when he’d cursed her name and rammed the knife in her stomach.

“Gwen, you look great.”

She felt the heat of his gaze appraising her before he’d sat down. She didn’t reply to his comment.

“I have to admit that I’m a little surprised by you wanting to see me, but I guess it’s about my upcoming parole hearing.”

“They informed me about it.”

“Do you still sing?”

Gwen kept a tight rein on her
temper. “No. Too many bad memories.”

“I hear you’re married with a kid. Tell me about your family.”

“They’re none of your business.”

Parker smirked. “Brr. A nasty windchill moves in from the east.” His smirk dissolved into his lined face. “Keep it civil, Gwen. Just remember who requested this visit. I’m doing you a favor.”

“There are some things you aren’t entitled to know.”

Parker snorted. “My lawyer advised against this meeting. He thinks this is some ploy to fuck up my parole hearing, but I told him you weren’t like that. I told him you’re one of the good ones, a Girl Scout. Tell me he’s wrong.”

“He’s wrong.”

He smiled, getting far too much pleasure from her reply. “So what do you want, Gwen? Don’t tell me what your therapist thinks you want. Tell me what you really want.”

“I don’t have a therapist.”

Parker grinned and leaned back in his seat. “Good. You’re a strong one, Gwen. It was what drew me to you.”

The man sounded like an ex-boyfriend instead of an attacker. They had shared a relationship. It wasn’t a loving one, but it was one filled with strong emotions.

“Why have you come?”

“They tell me you’ve changed. I came to see if that’s true.”

Parker flung his arms out wide. “And have I?”

“You’ve gotten older and you’ve put on a few pounds, but that doesn’t come close to answering my question.”

She’d struck Parker’s vanity, and he put away the bravado. Parker dropped his arms, and the gleam of enjoyment in his eyes dulled.

“You want to know if I’ve changed? Well, I have.” He tapped an insistent finger on the table. “People change all the time. I’m sure you’ve been told about my behavior in here, and it’s true. I’ve kept out of trouble and kept a few
kids from making their stay here worse. I’ve killed the boredom by keeping my mind entertained.”

She wondered what kinds of things would keep Parker’s mind entertained.

“You want to know if when I’m released, I’ll come after you and finish what I started and take out your pretty little family in the process.”

“Yes.”

“You’re in the past, Gwen. I’m not interested in you and your family.”

His derisive tone of voice had been rising in volume and caught the guard’s attention. “Is everything OK over there?” he called across the room.

“We’re fine,” Gwen said. She didn’t want him breaking things up.

The guard nodded at her.

She was quiet for a long time. Parker had worked himself up. She wanted him calm. He couldn’t hear her if his blood was up.

“This is upsetting you, isn’t it?” she asked.

“What do you think?”

“Don’t expect me to feel bad.”

Parker exhaled.

“I’ll be honest with you. Fifteen years doesn’t even come close to repaying what you did to me. The DA told me you’d never see the light of day. That helped me sleep at night. Helped me heal. But now you may leave jail a free man. I need to know that if I happen to walk into you on the street, I can keep it together. I don’t want to do to you what you did to me.”

Gwen’s deadly tone surprised even her. Parker paled. He’d expected a timid mouse to walk in and quake at the sight of the big scary monster. So had Gwen, but something had changed. Tarbell, she guessed. Another man believed he could intimidate her. It wouldn’t happen. “Between us, I think I can cope with seeing you on the streets. And that’s a good thing, as I don’t want to throw my life away because of
you. I have a great family, a good job, and way of life to protect. If I hurt you and take my revenge, I’ll lose it all. I don’t want that to happen, Desmond.”

“Practice that little speech in front of the mirror?”

She smiled and shook her head. “You just bring the best out in me.”

The remark released the tension that had built up in him. He leaned back in his seat. “You make it sound like it’s a done deal. You can still destroy me during the hearing.”

“I don’t think so. If you’ve been the model prisoner I keep hearing about, the parole board will grant you parole and there won’t be a thing you or I can do about it.”

“So you think I’ll get out?”

“I think so. The bigger question is what will you do when you get out?”

Parker’s smile returned. “Worried I’ll move into your neighborhood and get a job packing groceries at your local market?”

“No. I’ve told you I can cope with you being out.”

“I’ve got some things lined up on the outside. Nothing grandiose. Felons don’t get an easy ride.”

“My bleeding liberal heart isn’t bleeding.”

Parker laughed. “I wouldn’t expect it to. I want to start my own business. Classic motorcycle repairs. I love bikes and there are plenty of people out there who don’t know how to maintain them. Pleased for me?”

Gwen wouldn’t be drawn in. She realized he was trying to sell a line. It was the kind of stuff that would impress the parole board, not her.

“OK, you’re going to leave me alone, but what about other women? Are you going to put in a repeat performance?”

The question was a low blow, but Gwen didn’t care. So far, Parker had danced around her with smiles and banter. She hadn’t seen the real him. She needed to provoke him. To his credit, he did a nice job of holding on to his temper.

“I have no intention of
returning here.”

“That doesn’t answer the question. That tells me you don’t intend leaving behind a witness to point the finger.”

Parker sat forward in his seat, his hands bunched into fists under the table. “You may not like what you’re hearing, but I’ve learned my lesson. If a woman tells me no, it means no. Got that?”

The guard walked past them in a passive-aggressive move to let everyone know he was still around, making sure nothing got out of hand.

“I have a question for you,” said Parker. “Actually, it’s from my lawyer, but I want to know too. Are you going to speak at my hearing?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On the answer to my last question.”

Parker frowned, but said nothing.

“When you stabbed me and left, did you expect me to die?”

Parker didn’t answer.

“Did you want me to die that day?”

“Yes,” he replied without an ounce of remorse. “Yes, I did.”

G
wen felt a change in air pressure as she left the
prison, as if she could breathe more easily. She barely noticed the corrections officer who saw her out.

She reached her car and realized that she no longer felt nauseous and frightened. She’d faced Parker and come out the other side. She’d even managed to put a scare into him. She smiled at that one.

She pulled out her cell and called Paul.

“How’d it go?”

“OK. It was something I had to do.”

“I’m proud of you. Celebrate isn’t the right word, but let’s go out somewhere. Just us. I’ll get a sitter for Kirsten.”

“OK. Sounds good. I’m going to work. See you tonight.”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too,” she said and hung up.

The smile didn’t last. She couldn’t shake the feeling Parker would get his parole. He wouldn’t hurt her. She believed that. Not physically anyway. But what stopped him from turning up on her doorstep, eating lunch outside her office, or sitting next to her when she took Kirsten to the movies? She’d robbed him of fifteen years of his life. He wasn’t the kind of guy to forget that.

She could do without Parker adding to her
troubles. Ingram said he’d have his investigation wrapped up in two weeks, and he’d have enough on Tarbell to fire him. Whatever damning evidence and strong-arm tactics he used on Tarbell, there’d still be issues. Ingram couldn’t prevent Tarbell from suing Pace. No doubt she’d have to go to court and before that would happen, there’d be a war of words. She’d been there before when Parker went to trial. The idea of Parker being free to witness this debacle was too much. She dialed Jerry Naylor’s number.

“I want to speak at Parker’s parole hearing,” she said.

“I heard you just finished up with him. Did something happen?”

“No. He was fine. He behaved. But fifteen years isn’t enough for what he did to me. I don’t want him getting out.”

“I’ll do what I can to make it happen.”

She hung up on Naylor and looked over at San Quentin. It looked more like a castle perched at the edge of the bay to protect those inside from evils that lay outside its gates. She drove away from the prison, glad to put distance between her and Parker.

She pulled into Pace’s parking lot just before lunch. The lot was close to full and all the spots close to the building were occupied. That meant a long and exposed walk to the building.

How long will this continue
? she wondered.
How long will I keep viewing my environment in terms of threats?
It had taken her years to stop acting and thinking this way after Parker. She hoped it wouldn’t be that long this time. She told herself that as soon as Tarbell was out of the way, she’d stop. It sounded like junkie thinking. She knew it wouldn’t be that easy.

She went up to her office. A couple of people joked about her being a part-timer. She said her hellos to her staff and went into her office. She leaned down and flicked on her PC and when she sat up, Tarbell was standing in the doorway. He smiled.

“Yes, Steve?” Startled, she’d forgotten to use Tarbell’s full name, but he made
no objection.

“Everything OK, Gwen?” he said. “It’s not like you to come in late. Anything wrong?”

“Everything’s good. Something cropped up last night I had to take care of this morning.” Did he think she had gone to the cops? “Nothing to do with anyone at work,” she said with a meaningful look.

“That’s good. I just wanted to make sure you and I didn’t need to have a private talk.” He knocked on the doorframe and left.

Tarbell unnerved her. If he was keeping tabs on her, she would have to be careful not to give herself away. Paul called Gwen late in the afternoon. He helped relieve the day’s stress by putting Kirsten on the phone for a minute. Her daughter’s excited voice put a smile on her face.

“Why don’t you blow that pop stand early and come play with us?” Paul asked, taking the phone back from Kirsten.

“I can’t. Too many alarm bells ringing. I think I’m going to be late again.”

“Gwen, I thought we were going out. I’ve booked a table.”

“I’ll meet you there. When’s the reservation?”

“Seven thirty at The Skyline.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Just be sure you are, please.”

She plowed on with her work. It was slow progress until five. The moment people began leaving, her work rate picked up. With no distractions, she’d pretty much caught up with her lost morning. Thoughts of a late night alone failed to unnerve her. Security guards now made sweeps of the building every hour. She put this new measure down to Ingram.

She eyed her watch. It was just after seven, and she was ready to finish up. She’d still make it to the restaurant if she left by seven fifteen.

A bank of lights went off on the far
side of the building and a swatch of darkness fell across the floor. She guessed this was the guard’s way of ushering her out of the building.

“Just a few more minutes,” she murmured to herself.

Another bank of lights went out.

“Damn it,” she murmured, then loudly for the guard to hear, “Give me a minute.”

When a bank of lights the width of the building went out at once, Gwen looked up. Half the floor was in darkness. The stairwell and the elevators were lost to it. The next row of lights went out, then the next and the next. Darkness approached her office in a wave of solid blackness. Just the ceiling light in her office remained.

“Hey,” she called out. “I’m still working in here, Mike.”

No one answered.

She got up from her seat and went to the door. “Mike, I’m still here.”

Still, no answer.

She remained silent and waited for Mike to appear. If he was making his final round of the floor before retiring to his seat in the lobby, he’d appear any second with a smile and an apology. He didn’t because he wasn’t there.

The hair stood up on the back of her neck. Something was wrong, and she knew exactly who was behind it. Tarbell.

Gwen grabbed her purse, leaving everything else. She bolted for the stairwell on the far side of the building, then stopped. The light switch panel for the floor was across from the stairs and elevators. She was running straight toward him. The emergency exit stairs were at the other end of the building. He couldn’t be in two places at once, so she doubled back and bolted for the emergency exit, running into the darkness. She relied on the glow of screensavers and her familiarity with the floor plan to avoid running into the furniture.

Feet pounded the carpet to her left. She couldn’t make out the exact location. Her eyes had yet to make the adjustment to the dark and the carpeted floor muffled
any clues about where he was. She couldn’t tell if Tarbell was gunning to intercept her or block the emergency stairwell.

She stopped. Tarbell stopped, too.

She strained to hear his breathing or movement and heard nothing. He couldn’t be close, but he felt like the darkness, all encompassing.

She considered yanking out her cell and calling Ingram or grabbing a phone off the nearest desk and calling Mike, but if she reached for a phone, Tarbell would be on her before she had a chance to dial the number.

She cursed her stupidity. She should have locked herself in her office and called from there. It was no panic room, but it would have provided her the vital seconds she needed to make the call.

Any idea of returning to her office disappeared when her office lights went out, taking with them the last of the light on the floor. She whirled around to see a human form disappear into the total darkness. She didn’t mourn the loss of the last vestige of light. He was behind her now. She had a head start. The emergency stairwell was dead ahead. She raced for the illuminated exit sign.

She slammed into the crash bar, but the door remained shut. He’d locked it or blocked it somehow. Of course he had. He wouldn’t let her get away. The son of a bitch was always a step ahead of her. She wanted to scream in frustration, but there was no time. Feet pounded the floor behind her and a dark shape shifted in the darkness.

“I know it’s you, Stephen.”

Tarbell stopped with some hundred feet between them.

“Where do you think this is going to get you?” she asked. “Do you think you’ll win if you hurt me or even kill me?”

She let the question hang in the darkness for him to embrace and answer. It was the perfect time to do it, in the dark. No one had to face anyone. They were just voices in the
night, disembodied and belonging to no one.

“What is it you want?”

Her eyes began to adjust. She was no longer trapped inside a sightless void. The formless black turned into recognizable shapes and she could make out walls and desks. She picked out Tarbell’s form. He stood motionless, seemingly deactivated by her words. It wouldn’t last. Sooner or later, he’d make his move.

She wanted to tell him that people were on to him and Ingram was going to nail him. She’d love to turn the tables and put the fear of God in him for once. It was what she wanted to say, but couldn’t. The situation wasn’t desperate enough. If she tipped Ingram’s hand, it ruined everything. Revealing PSI’s presence was a one-time weapon to be used when she had no other option. Right now, she had an option and she took it.

She bolted for the main stairwell. She hoped she had the edge she needed to reach the lobby. She didn’t have to get there, just be close enough to be heard.

“Help,” she screamed.

Heavy footfalls thudded the floor behind her, then to the side of her. He was running a parallel path through the cubicles. She stopped screaming. This was no longer just a foot race. He was planning a move, no doubt to cut her off. She threw down her purse. Her car keys were in there, but it didn’t matter. Getting to her car wasn’t the plan. Finding a witness was.

She reached the back corridor, which was home to the legal department. At the end of the corridor were the stairwell and elevators. Fifty yards. Just fifty yards. A world of distance covered in seconds. Just as she reached the stairwell, a flashlight beam smashed her in the face. She lost her footing and hit the floor on her back, striking her head on the ground. It left her disoriented for a second, but a second was all Tarbell needed. He could stab her or bludgeon her to death with the flashlight. He had the advantage he needed.

“What the hell’s going on?” Mike said. His face was lost
in a blur of afterglow on her retinas.

Lights snapped on haphazardly as Mike ran his hand over the switch panel.

Gwen grabbed Mike’s proffered hand and he hoisted her to her feet. Any remnants of Gwen’s confusion dissolved. She had a witness and a protector.

“He’s after me. Don’t let him get away.”

Mike was unarmed, but he now brandished his flashlight as a weapon. “Who?”

She dragged Mike into the office area. Even through her vision was dotted with afterimages, it was obvious there was no one else on the floor.