The Dead List (28 page)

Pushing the air bag down, I dragged in deep gulps of clean, cool night air. Stunned, dizzy from the lack of oxygen, I leaned back against the seat, and turned to look at Linds.

She was half in her seat, half against the floor, her head turned away from me, and she wasn’t moving, and I didn’t know if she was alive or…

I reached for her, my fingers brushing her clammy skin. “Linds,” I croaked. “Linds, wake up.”

Nothing happened, and in my foggy thoughts, I knew I should get her out of the car, get her into even more air. I had to—

There was a knock on the driver’s window.

Screaming hoarsely, I twisted at the waist, my stomach tumbling as a familiar face peered inside the car at me.

Brock stared at me. “What in the hell are you doing?”

Hands shaking, I hit the unlock button and pushed open the door. I all but fell out, and would’ve eaten grass and cement if he hadn’t caught me. What was he doing here? I tried to think past the pain in my chest and head as he steadied me.

“Ella? Jesus Christ, is that Linds in there?” His voice pitched. “What’s going on?”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, stumbling free.

“I live two houses down.” He glanced at the wrecked garage door. “I was just getting home. I heard the screams.”

He heard the screams, but as no one else came rushing to help us, had no one else heard? It didn’t matter right now. Stumbling around the front of the car, I barely held myself up. “You need to the call the police.
He
was here. I think Linds is hurt.”

“What?” He started to lean into the car.

“Call the police!” I shouted until my voice gave up.

“Okay. Okay!” He backed up, pulling a slim phone out of his back pocket.

I stopped paying attention to him as I reached the passenger door. By some luck, I’d hit the unlock all button, and the passenger door sprung open.

I reached for Linds. “Please be okay,” I whispered, getting my hands under her arms. “Please,
please
be okay.”

Breathing in the fumes had weakened me, and I couldn’t lift her. Raising my head, I swiped at the tears. “Please help me.”

Brock was beside me in an instant, slipping the phone in his back pocket. “Move out of the way.”

I didn’t want to, but I did.

“The police are on the way,” he said, reaching in and easily scooping Linds up. Her head lolled against his chest like there were no bones or muscles in her neck at all. “I didn’t know what to tell them.”

When he placed her in the grass, I dropped to my knees beside her, glancing up at the house. Then I placed my hands against her neck, not really sure if I was hitting the right spot, but when I found a pulse, I almost collapsed. “He was here,” I said, my voice scratching out of my throat. “He was inside the house. He did this.”

“The… the guy that attacked you before?” Brock glanced behind me, and I could make out the distinctive hum of voices. “He was here?”

I nodded, folding my hands around Linds’. Turning my attention to her, I held on for dear life. “Please be okay. Please. Please.”

It wasn’t long at all before the sounds of sirens grew close, and then there were police covering the lawn, hands pulling me away from Linds as EMTs rushed forward.

“She was in the car—in the garage with the car running,” I told them, my mouth dry. Those hands turned me around, and I was suddenly staring up at Shaw.

“Ella, what happened?” he asked.

“He was here—he was inside the house, while I was taking a shower.” The story spilled out of me as tears rose, blinding me. “I couldn’t get the garage door to open, so I drove the car through the door.”

“That was good. That was smart.” He started leading me away from where the medics were working on Linds. Another ambulance was pulling up on the street. A crowd was gathering at the sidewalk, their dark forms blurring together.

I dug my feet in, coughing. “Is she okay? Please, tell me she’s okay.”

“They’re doing everything they can.” He wrapped an arm around my waist, turning me around. “We need to get you looked at.”

“I’m okay,” I wheezed.

“Doubtful. You were in that garage, too. And you’re bleeding.”

I was?

Shaw handed me off to an EMT, and after curt instructions, an oxygen mask was shoved on my face. The EMT, who had spent an ungodly amount of time shining a bright light in my eye, helped me tighten the belt around my waist. God only knows how many people had gotten a look at my goodies, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

As the medic inspected the scratches on my knees and hands, Shaw had Brock cornered by a Japanese maple tree. Other officers were there, huddled. They were demanding to know what he was doing here.

Brock gave them the same answer, but my stomach churned relentlessly. Could be his convenient answer. Could be what happened.

But then they were wheeling Linds out, and under the street lamp, her normally mocha colored skin was a deep, hideous gray.

“Is she okay?” I asked, moving the mask.

“She’s alive.” The medic placed the mask back on my face.

I started to lift it again. “I want to go with—”

“You’re staying right there.” Shaw’s head snapped around like the Exorcist. “Sit there, shut up, and suck up the oxygen.”

Damn.

I sat there, I shut right up, and I sucked up oxygen until the medic checked my pulse and then pulled the mask off.

“You’re lucky,” the EMT said, standing up. “Only a few scratches and some bruises. You could be dead.”

Not like I needed that wake up call. “I want to see—” I trailed off as one of the deputies came out the front door, carrying the clown mask. I climbed out the back of the ambulance, my legs shaking.

“Whoa,” the medic grabbed my arm. “I want you to sit still for a little while longer.”

The officer carrying the mask halted in the driveway. “Oh, look, state boys are finally here.”

Within seconds, green uniforms swarmed the front yard. I recognized Trooper Ritter. He took one long look at me before heading toward were Shaw was standing with Brock.

My stomach cramped as the new officers communed around Brock, and then Shaw broke apart, striding toward me.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Wrapping my arms around me, I willed my teeth to stop chattering. “I’m okay, but Linds—”

“They took her to the hospital, and you’ll be able to go check on her soon, but I need you to focus on me right now. Okay?” When I nodded, he shifted his stance. “When did Brock show up?”

My gaze darted over to him. “After I drove through the garage door. He knocked… he knocked on the car window.”

“Did he say why he was out here?”

I licked my lips. They felt impossibly dry. “He said he lives a few houses down. That he heard screaming…. Wait.” I took in his shrewd gaze. “Do you think Brock…?”

“I want you to stay here.” He clamped a hand down on my shoulder and continued without answering my question. “I’ll call your—”

“Don’t call my mom,” I pleaded. “Please. I don’t want her to see me like this—see the garage and all the police.”

He shifted again, jaw locked hard. “Okay.”

“Can you… can you call Jensen?”

Shaw stared at me a moment and then nodded. “Yeah, I can call him.” He started to turn and then stopped. “You got some clothes in there?”

“In the bathroom.”

“I’ll send someone up. Meanwhile, follow me.”

I followed him over to where his cruiser was parked. Popping the trunk, he pulled out a dark blanket.

“It’s clean,” he said, shaking it out. “I promise.”

At this point I didn’t care if it had been in a crack house. I stood still as he dropped the blanket over my shoulders. It covered more than the robe. Relieved, I tucked the edges of the blanket close.

I didn’t want to stand out here by the flashing lights of the cop cars, too close to the prying eyes of the neighbors. I saw Shaw on his phone, and I hoped he was calling Jensen. He spoke briefly to another deputy who turned and headed up to the open front door.

I shivered.

Had they called Linds’ parents yet? I squeezed my eyes shut, rocking back slightly on my numb feet. I should be there with her so that when she woke up she wasn’t afraid. And she would wake up. She had to. I couldn’t allow myself to think anything else.

A few minutes later, an officer came to stand with me. I didn’t recognize him. He was a deputy by the looks of his uniform. I was learning all of them had different colors and oddly hats. He didn’t speak, and I realized dumbly that I was probably under guard.

“Holy shit!” yelled a voice from within the garage.

I turned just as a deputy stumbled out, bent at the waist, and clasped his knees. He gagged. Someone yelled something. The officer standing with me frowned. “Stay here,” he ordered.

He rushed over, joining the cops who were standing at the back of Linds’ mom’s car. Officers raced back and forth on the driveway, and whatever they were saying was lost in the roaring of the blood in my ears. I stumbled forward, my arms and legs shaking. No one noticed me as I approached the group huddled around the back of Linds’ car, the same car she had been trapped in, might’ve died in.

No. Linds was alive. Shaw said as much.

“What’s going on?” Brock demanded from where he stood by the tree, but his voice sounded so very far away. “Come on, someone tell me what the hell is going on.”

Legs trembling, I crept forward, drawn to whatever it was that had the cops freaking out. An officer stepped aside, turning his head to speak into a microphone attached to his shoulder. “We got a signal 18 out here. I need the M.E. stat.”

I could see around him, see inside the trunk; see what was folded up in there, waiting to be found.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered, my hands rising to my mouth.

“Shit.” Shaw spun around and was suddenly in front of me, blocking the view of the trunk, but it was too late. He turned me away, but I’d already seen it.

I saw Monica folded into the trunk, her hands tucked under her chin like she was sleeping, and that’s how she looked. Peaceful. Asleep. All except for the cardinal shoved in her mouth.

Lightning flashed across the sky, splintering the darkness. A crack of thunder chased after it, so loud and so close, the windows in my bedroom shuddered.

“Ella.”

I wrapped my arms around my waist as I turned. Jensen stood in the doorway, and I knew he’d been there longer than I realized, standing silent and still like a sentinel. He’d been there, a constant presence since he arrived at Linds’ house.

I took a step toward him, my legs shaky. I didn’t speak and neither did he as he crossed the distance between us. Taking me in his arms, he held me close to his chest, easing some of the chill that had invaded my bones and tissues.

Tonight had been one of the worst nights of my life.

Jensen’s lips brushed my forehead. “Everyone is downstairs.”

It was late, more like early morning, and under normal circumstances, Mom would be flipping out, but tonight was far from normal. The wind picked up and the tree outside rattled like dry bones.

“Gavin showed up,” he continued, smoothing a hand up my back. “Heidi’s here, too. Your mom made hot chocolate.”

I drew back as another flash of lightning tore up the sky. “She’ll wake up, right?”

“Yes.” Conviction strengthened his voice. He kissed my forehead. “She will.”

A coma. That was what the doctors said. Linds had inhaled too many fumes and her body had shut down. Her parents were with her at the hospital, and, currently, with her being in intensive care, anyone outside of her family wasn’t allowed in the hospital room.

“I still can’t believe it. He was in that house. He was in the bathroom when I…” I couldn’t finish that sentence without wanting to hurl.

Jensen’s muscles rolled as he carefully placed his hands on my cheeks and then kissed my forehead. Moments passed before he said a word. “I hate this. I hate that you’re in danger and you are. There’s no telling each other anything different than that.” His voice turned deeper, rougher. “This is twice now that he’s… he’s almost got you.”

That was the reality of the situation. There was no more pretending or looking at this statistically. Twice now the… thing had come after me.

I took a deep breath. “We should go downstairs.”

He nodded, and I started around him, but he caught my hand, stopping me. “Are you okay?”

A weak smile tugged at my lips. “I’m just a little sore. I’ll be fine.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Of course. The poor excuse of a smile faded. “I really don’t know what to think or feel. I mean, how am I supposed to feel?”

“Scared? Confused?” His hand slid up to my elbow. “Angry?”

“I feel all of those things.” And I had felt them before, after finding Penn, but there had also been a lot of guilt attached to that.

His gaze searched my face intently for a moment and then he nodded once more. Taking my hand in his, we headed downstairs. Mom was in the dining room we rarely used, on the phone with my father. Her voice was tight and she turned away as I walked past, lowering her voice even more.

In the living room, Gavin and Heidi sat on the couch. They both looked up as we entered, Gavin’s gaze lingering on our joined hands. I started to pull free, but Jensen wasn’t having that.

Jensen sat in the reclining chair and tugged me down into his lap. He grabbed a cup of untouched cocoa and handed it over to me.

“You look okay,” Gavin said, and then winced. “I mean, you don’t look like you just went toe to toe with Mike Myers.”

My brows rose.

“Okay. None of that came out right.” He scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Can I start over?”

“That might be a good idea,” murmured Heidi.

“It’s okay.” I smiled at him. “I’m fine. Just a little bruised up, but Linds… she’s not okay.”

Heidi placed her cup on the coffee table. “And the cops seriously have no suspects?”

“There really hasn’t been any evidence left behind.” Jensen’s hand smoothed up and down my spine as he spoke. “Except… well, the bodies.”

“How do you know it was a guy?” Heidi asked.

I looked at her sharply and, for some reason, a chill radiated over my skin. I shook my head. “It was a guy. I mean, I don’t know of any girls that can pick me up and toss me like a baseball.”