Watch Me Die (14 page)

“We’re not at liberty to say.”

He saw that she took that exactly the way he hoped she would, as a yes. “Do the words
Judgment Day
mean anything to you?”

“Judgment Day?” she repeated. “Other than it being the day foretold in the Bible when Christ will—” She bit the words back, a strange expression coming over her face. “When Christ will judge the living and the dead. Why are you asking me that?”

“It was scrawled in blood on the floor by Preacher’s body,” Bayle answered. “It could simply be the killer’s way of sticking it to Preacher, for all his street-corner sermons.”

“Or it could be connected to Father Girod and the Sisters of Mercy windows,” she whispered.

“Yes. And, it seems, you’re connected to both.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Monday, August 15

7:30
P.M.

He stood in the doorway and gazed at his grandmother; she slept deeply. She had grown so weak. She barely moved. Her frame had become skeletal, yet he couldn’t get her to eat. Day after day, he took away her untouched tray of food and drink.

He needed her advice. It was she whom he had always turned to. She whom he had counted and leaned on.

She couldn’t die, he thought, panic tugging at him. He needed her. He needed her counsel.

He tapped on the bedroom door, then poked his head inside.

“Grandma? Are you awake?”

She didn’t respond, didn’t stir. He crept across to stand beside her bed, then fell to his knees.

“I’m so troubled, Grandmother. I don’t know what to do. I need your help.”

Still she slept. His eyes flooded with tears, even as shame washed over him. How could he bring this to her now, when she was so ill?

He was weak, he acknowledged. And small.

He hung his head but went on anyway. “There’s so much bad in the world, Grandmother. So much evil. I’m overwhelmed by it.”

A consequence of the Fall.

Not his grandmother, he realized, lifting his head. “Who’s there?”

You know me. You know what must be done.

“No, I don’t!”

It’s what you were born for, my Son. Evil must be destroyed.

“Counsel me, Father! I feel so lost. So alone.”

Do you recall the devil’s temptation in the desert?

He nodded.

When the devil said, “Throw yourself down from this mountain for your Father will command His angels to protect you,” do you remember this?

“I recognized his deceit. For it is written: ‘You should not put the Lord your God to the test.’”

And when he promised you all the world if you would bow down and worship him?

“I faced the liar with the truth: ‘Worship the Lord your God and serve only him.’”

And is it not also written that he left you then to wait for a more opportune time?

A more opportune time, he realized. Of course. That time was now. “The Evil One is the great liar; he takes many forms. He twists your Holy Word to use against us.”

Yes. Beware. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, looking for someone to devour.

“Peter 5:8.” Tears of gratitude and thanksgiving rolled down his cheeks. “I am Your dutiful son and faithful servant. In Your glorious name, I will flush out the serpent and destroy him.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Monday, August 15

9:05
P.M.

Mira paced, her every nerve seeming to jump and hum, as if she had drunk too much coffee or downed one too many energy drinks. Her mind raced. Connor had been right about the way the police had questioned him. The things they had asked.

They wondered if he had killed Preacher. Or if she had convinced him to do it. To get her cross back. Then, as a cover, she had concocted the whole break-in story.

It was crazy. Absolutely nuts.

“He will come again to judge the living and the dead.”
And scrawled on a floor in blood: “
Jugment Day.
”

She dug her phone out of her back pocket and navigated to the photos she had taken of the vandalized windows. A knot settled in her stomach, and with it a vague unease.

What did it all mean?

Her thoughts rocketed to her father-in-law, his thinly veiled accusations. She brought her hands to her face. She didn’t want to do this alone. She didn’t want to be alone. Not with her thoughts and fears. Not when everything seemed to be falling apart. Again.

She had called Connor. Hours ago. She’d left a message.

He hadn’t called her back.

“Did you tell her, Connor? Did you tell her the real reason you joined up?”

What was he hiding from her? And now, was he hiding
from
her?

Who else could she turn to? Deni? Dr. Jasper?

No one else was left in her life, she realized. Her parents were gone. Her one sibling she’d never been particularly close to, and after Jeff’s death she’d completely shut her out. She’d done the same thing to her old friends.

She had created this narrow, empty little world for herself. A world that consisted of very little human interaction, just her windows, her grief and her pills.

No, she thought. Not anymore. Connor was back. She was letting him in. Wasn’t she? And Deni? Chris and Dr. Jasper?

Connor could have his secrets; she had hers. She didn’t care; she just needed him in her life.

She snatched her phone off the coffee table and punched in Connor’s number. This time he answered. “Connor, it’s Mira. Where are you— No, don’t answer. I just want you to know, I don’t need an explanation why you left. I don’t need to know your secrets. I’m just glad you’re back in my life. I need you.”

As the words spilled out, it was as if something heavy was being lifted off her. She felt lighter. Freer.

“Wow,” she said with a laugh, “you must think I’ve completely lost my mind. Maybe I have, but I just know that—”

“I’m on your front porch.”

It took a moment for his words to sink in. When they did, she ran for the door and threw it open. And stopped short, surprised.

Connor wasn’t alone. By his side stood a wiggling mass of golden fur, with a wagging tail and, she discovered a moment later, a warm wet nose.

Mira squealed. “Oh, my gosh! Who’s this?”

“Nola,” he said. “Say hi, Nola.”

Mira laughed and squatted in front of the dog, who proceeded to give her a big wet kiss. “I think she just did.”

“Obviously a good judge of character.”

Mira laughed again and scratched the animal behind the ears. “She’s a sweetheart.”

“I hoped you’d say that.” He bent and ran a hand down the dog’s back. “She’s two. A golden retriever mix. I got her from the pound.”

“Why would anyone have given her up?” Mira asked. “She’s so sweet.”

“Some people aren’t dog people. They take one on, then realize they’re not up to the challenge.”

“Kind of the way some people have children.” Mira ran a hand along the dog’s silky back. “She sort of reminds me of Ginger.”

“Me, too,” he said. “Can we come in? I know it’s late.”

“If you’re cool with me wearing my soft pants.”

He laughed. “I saw teenagers wearing those at the airport. I don’t think it’ll offend my sensibilities.”

She stepped aside, then closed the door behind them. “You want something to drink?”

“I’m good.”

“What about your friend?”

He grinned. “She looks okay, too.”

And she did, content sniffing and snuffling as they made their way back to the keeping room. Located off the kitchen, positioned to look out over the courtyard, the room was a cross between a garden room and family room.

Jeff had pronounced it Mira’s space and let her decorate it any way she wished. Not surprisingly, she’d chosen bright, feminine fabrics and minimal, airy furniture. She sat on the end of the floral sofa, tucking her feet under her. Nola waited until Connor sat in the chair to decide where to rest herself. She chose the floor by Mira.

“Sorry,” Mira said, reaching down to give the animal a pat. “Looks like she
is
a good judge of character.”

“Nice.” He mock-glowered at Nola. “Traitor.”

Mira smiled. “Thanks for coming over.”

“No problem. What’s up?”

“You were right. About the way the police questioned you. They came to the studio and questioned me, Deni and Chris.”

“About that Preacher guy?”

She nodded. “He’s dead. He was murdered the same night he brought my cross back.”

“That’s why the detectives were so weird with me.”

She clasped her hands together. “They’re wondering if I had something to do with it, aren’t they?”

“Or if I did. Yes, that’s the way I read it.”

“They even asked Deni and Chris where they were that night.” She leaned down and stroked Nola, finding the feel of her soft fur comforting. “It’s just unbelievable.”

“Is it?”

She looked at him in surprise. “You can’t be serious.”

He leaned forward, elbows on knees, fingers laced. “Look at it the way they must be. This guy was killed within twenty-four hours of stealing your cross, but not before he returned it.”

“Obviously, he did return it. I’m wearing it.”

He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Very odd. Even more problematic, there are no signs of a break-in at your home. And all the doors and windows are locked. Basically, all they have is your version of events. Preacher broke in, returned your cross and left without taking anything or bothering you.”

It did sound lame, she thought. And far-fetched. But it was the truth. She told him so.

“I believe you, because I know you.”

“What should I do?”

“Nothing. You haven’t done anything wrong. They’re fishing. It’s what they’re supposed to be doing. The morning they called you and asked for my name and number, they knew Preacher was dead but didn’t say anything about it to you or me. Instead, they asked a lot of questions about the time. Where I went, if anyone saw me. Trying to trip one of us up.”

“Trip us up?” She shook her head, smile tugging at her mouth. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”

He grinned. “I told you the service made me paranoid.”

They fell silent a moment; he broke it first. “That call just now, what was that all about?”

For a second she didn’t even remember. In that moment she realized all her anxiety, all the frantic desperation she’d felt, was gone. Connor being here had obliterated it.

Could she tell him that? She wanted to, but at the same time she felt a little embarrassed, as if it revealed something too personal. Something she didn’t even understand.

Even as she told herself she was being ridiculous, she shook her head. “I was overwhelmed and overreacting. Between the police and my father-in-law and everything, I … I just needed someone to talk to.”

His expression shifted subtly. “I’m glad I could help.” He glanced at his watch. “Before I take off, I brought you something. It’s in the car. I’ll be right back.”

She started to stand, but he stopped her. “Stay put. I know the way.”

Mira nodded and patted her leg. Nola stood and laid her head on Mira’s lap. She stroked the dog’s silky head and ears.

Several minutes passed, and she frowned. “What’s taking him so long, girl? Maybe we should check on him?”

Nola wagged her tail and Mira stood. Moments later, at the front door, she peered out at the drive. Connor’s car was gone.

From the keeping room came the chirp of her cell phone. Realization dawning, she hurried to answer.

“Where the hell are you?” she said. “This isn’t funny.”

“Nola’s for you. I left a bowl, a bag of food and a leash in a box on the driveway.”

“You did
what
?”

“I bought her for you. To replace Ginger.”

Mira froze, startled by the angry heat that surged through her. “You had no right, Connor.”

“We’re old friends. Isn’t that enough of a right?”

“No, it’s not. I don’t want a dog.”

Nola whimpered and thumped her tail. Mira looked down to find the dog gazing earnestly up at her.

“Yes, you do. When I saw the way you were with her … for a moment there, I actually recognized you.”

Hurt took her breath. “Nice, Connor. Perfect.”

“I’m sorry.” He lowered his voice. “You need her, Mira. Someone broke into your house the other night. They were in your bedroom, they could have killed you.”

“But I’m fine and he’s dead. It’s all over.”

“Is it?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Let’s say the police are on to something. That’s why they’re asking all the questions. Something’s not adding up.”

“Like what? What could be wrong?”

“The time line maybe.”

“The time line?”

“Yeah, maybe Preacher couldn’t have been the one who broke in and left the cross.” He paused. She heard the sounds of traffic. “Because he was already dead.”

It took a moment for her to fully comprehend what he was suggesting. When she did, she went cold. A killer, standing beside her bed.

“My sweet star. How I’ve missed you.”

She cleared her throat. “Are you purposely trying to scare the crap out of me?”

“Yes.”

“So I’ll take the dog?”

“So you’ll be careful.”

Nola whimpered again and Mira looked down at her.

“She’s housebroken,” he said.

“It’s not that.”

“You don’t want her to go back to the pound, do you? You know what happens there.”

“That’s not fair.”

“You loved Ginger. She was
your
dog, Mira. Not Jeff’s.”

Tears stung her eyes. “Yes, she was mine. And I lost her.”

“Don’t be afraid to love.”

“I’m not, dammit! Get your ass back here, Connor Scott!”

“Not happening.”

“I’ll turn her out. Anything could happen to her.”

“Yeah, right, that’s going to happen.”

He knew her too well. It infuriated her. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Connor. You might think about reenlisting before then, because it won’t be pretty.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN