Chapter Six

In the basement, the tunnel door swung open noiselessly. April had made the run a couple of times when she’d known no one was home. Thank goodness for WD-40. The perfect squeak eraser.

And thank goodness for old women with no hearing who went to bed at seven.

She’d almost had a heart attack earlier when that hussy of an ex-wife came downstairs flashing around her big gun and acting like the oh-so-brave Marine. April wondered how brave the woman would be when she was eye-to-eye with the end of April’s gun.

Fortunately for April, she knew this house better than she knew her own. She’d practically lived over here with her grandparents. Her sister, Deloris, had always been such a goodie-two-shoes and would tell on April for every little rule infraction. Arrive home five minutes after curfew? Deloris would run and tattle to their parents. Get caught in bed with a guy, tell the parents. She was like that for everything. But not tonight. There was no Deloris to see the end of April’s project and no parents to tell.

The tunnel between her grandparents’ house and the Johnson house wasn’t a secret. Her family knew. The Johnson family knew. Sadly, both families had agreed to close the tunnel permanently when Mrs. Johnson died. But no one had said anything about the passage in years, and she wondered if she was the only person who remembered it existed.

The basement was pitch black when she entered. Accessing the house via the kitchen stairs was out of the question. The groans and squeaks of that old thing would wake the dead.

She flipped on her penlight and headed for the central furnace. She could have probably walked the distance without her light, but why take unnecessary chances? The abandoned furnace hadn’t been used in decades, but she didn’t need the heat it used to give out. The various vents made the best intercom for listening in. Oh, the things she’d learned over the years, like how her grandmother and Mr. Johnson used the tunnel to maintain their affair for years. Or how her grandfather and Mrs. Johnson had known everything. She’d learned of her parents’ divorce days before they told her and Deloris.

Tonight, she listened as Dr. Devlin and his ex-wife talked in the living room. The giggle of his ex-wife and their verbal foreplay was sickening. How had she ever found an old geezer like him attractive? She could answer that. She hadn’t, but he’d held the connections she needed to get a publishing deal that’d keep her in vodka for years. Stupid, stupid man turned her down. Her! No one turned her down. Hadn’t sweet, gullible Joseph done exactly as she’d asked him with those notes?

Poor fool had been so depressed about all his rejections. A little whisper in his ear about Devlin and how he could have helped Joe if he had wanted to. Her whispers only confirmed everything Joseph already believed. Devlin had been jealous of Joseph’s talent. Devlin was responsible for all the rejections. She’d stoked Joseph’s fire until he believed that Devlin had called and had his agent make sure none of the publishing houses would make him an offer.

Men were so easy to manipulate into helping, except Devlin. He hadn’t helped her like he’d promised. In the first class of the semester, he’d told them he’d do all he could to make each of them successful, but he hadn’t.

And he’d humiliated her when she’d offered to sweeten the deal. No one turned her down for sex. No one.

She heard Devlin and his wife headed up the stairs like two horny teenagers. She vibrated with anger. How could he rather have sex with that stringy haired, skinny ex-wife over April? He’d be sorry for that decision. She’d make sure of that.

Right now, her challenge was getting from the basement to the second floor bedrooms without alerting Devlin or his ex.

She smiled because she had the secret weapon.

When her sister put this house up for rent, she’d covered the internal dumbwaiter with a stack of crates. Deloris had completely forgotten about dumbwaiter existed.

April flashed her light over the broken pieces of the one she’d dropped earlier. Stepping over the wood and wires, she scooted over the rest of the light stack and found the door.

Her grandmother had used this contraption to move clean linens from the basement laundry room to the upper levels without having to lug basket after basket of dried laundry. The chute opened in the kitchen and in the second floor linen room.

Her plan was simple, which is why it was perfect. Hop in, go up, finish her project, take the tunnel back to Mrs. Johnson’s house, return across the street to her sister’s place and she was done. Her bags were loaded, car gassed up and she was ready to head out. Maybe this time she’d go to New York.

She climbed in, pulled the door shut and started the box moving upward.

 

Vanessa had been standing in the living room for twenty minutes when she heard the scrape of boxes downstairs. Easing over to the basement door, she took up position, ready to tackle April Young as soon as she entered the kitchen. Gun held close to her body, she waited.

A motorized sound hummed in the wall. Vanessa swung her gun and flashlight in that direction. Her breathing was slow and even, as she’d been trained, but nervous energy still surged through her veins. Her light hit on the wall but nothing else.

She followed the sound as it got closer to the kitchen, ending up in the walk-in pantry. She swept the area with her light. At first, she saw the usual food stuffs, stored appliances, and paper products, but then her light reflected off a metal square in the wall. She stiffened in surprise. Upon closer inspection, she saw it was door, but to where and why so small?

The door rattle just slightly but didn’t open as something passed. The grinding sound continued upward.

Of course. The door led to a dumbwaiter. She hadn’t seen one of those since her days in New York. But where did it come out? Obviously, it was headed to the second floor. Was April Young on it, or was this a ruse to draw Vanessa away from the stairwell so April could use them?

Vanessa rushed back to the front hallway. Still dark, still empty. Should she stay here and protect the only way up to Craig, or should she go upstair? Should she go ahead and call in the deputies stationed outside?

She had to follow the plan. Deviation from plans is how people got killed.

She checked the basement door again. Still bolted and locked. A quick check of all the exterior doors and windows found them in the same locked condition.

The dumbwaiter had stopped. She creak up the stairs hoping to surprise their intruder. Unfortunately, she had no idea where there was a dumbwaiter door on that floor. She’d never seen one, but frankly, she’d never looked.

Holding her gun up and at the ready, she hit the top stair and swung around the corner ready to attack. The hall was empty. Moving along the wall, she looked for something that could be a door other than a bedroom. When she got to the small linen room, she wanted to kick her own ass. How obvious.

She swung her light into the room. Empty, but a small door on an interior wall was open.

Too late. April had made her move and she’d missed it.

Vanessa mentally ran through her options, pausing only when the muzzle of a gun pressed into the back of her head. April hadn’t made her move. She was still there.

 

Craig was alert but bored. Part of him still couldn’t believe he was really hiding from an attacker. To some degree, he felt like he’d been starring in the longest play ever.

His mind began to wander, thinking about Vanessa’s reaction today to the news of their marriage, to vignettes of her being thrilled to ones entailing another set of divorce papers and her leveling a gun on him until he signed. Whatever their future, tonight was the turning point. When this whole stalker nightmare was over, would she stay or would she go? Was she in love with this Dillion guy?

He heard movement in the hall. The sounds were barely audible. A shiver ran down his spine. He pulled his gun under the covers and waited. The sound could be Vanessa. He couldn’t afford to shoot until he knew exactly what or who he was hearing.

The door to his room opened slowly.

A bright light hit him in the eyes, blinding him to who was behind the flashlight.

“Put your gun down, Doc,” April Young said. She flipped on the overhead light, revealing she held her gun on Vanessa.

With a hard shove from April, Vanessa stumbled into the room.

“Now, ain’t this cozy?” April said. “Here we all are, together at last.” She gestured toward Vanessa. “Toss your gun over here, Doc. I’d hate to have to shoot your ex.”

“Don’t do it,” Vanessa said. “Shoot her.”

April hit Vanessa’s head with the butt of a gun.

Craig tightened his fists to keep from saying anything. He should never have agreed to this plan. He should have sent her away with Hank. She didn’t deserve to die for anything he did, or didn’t do.

His beautiful wife. He’d never forgive himself if any harm came to her.

“Don’t be stupid,” April said.  “He’d more likely hit you than me and then I’d just have to kill him without having a little talk.”

“Sorry, Nessie,” Craig said. “She’s right.” Defeat and depression filled his soul.

He tossed the gun across the room into a corner, out of his reach, but out of April’s reach too.

“Good. You are smarter than I thought.” She shoved Vanessa toward the bed. “Have a seat.”

Vanessa sat on the end mattress in front of Craig. From his perspective, he could see blood dripping off the ends of her hair onto her shirt.

“That’ll never do,” April said, waving the gun toward Vanessa. “Join your lover at the head.”

Vanessa scooted up the bed until she and Craig were side-by-side.

“Okay,” Vanessa said through gritted teeth. “Like you said, we’ll all here. What do you want?”

“I want the doc to die.”

Craig’s breath rushed from his lungs. He hadn’t believe the situation would ever progress to this, but here they were. Unarmed and facing a crazy woman with a gun.

“Why? Because I wouldn’t give you an A?” Craig said. “That’s crazy.”

“I’m not crazy,” she shouted. Her gun bounced around in the air as she gestured. “I’m an artist. I’m sensitive.”

He thought he heard a quiet snort from Vanessa.

“You broke your word,” April told him. “You promised, but then you didn’t follow through. And even when I offered to sweeten the deal, to fuck you, to make us a team, and you failed again. Over and over you failed your students. We deserved your respect. We deserved more.”

He straightened and stared at April. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Get me published. Hell, even your own agent said I had talent. You were jealous of me, just like you were of Joseph.”

Vanessa stiffened.

“You talked to my agent?” His thoughts are whirling. Everything Freeman told him about Dave and some young woman in New Orleans must be true. He felt sick for Martha.

“That night at the bar. He came back after you left looking for a folder he’d dropped. I bought him some drinks, we talked, and then I took him to my apartment to show him my work. He loved my voice. He appreciated me. We made love for hours.”

“So where is Dave?”

She laughed. “Sleeping with the fishes, as my grandpa used to say. He promised me a book contract for lots of money. But he never brought me one. Every time we’d meet, I’d ask. He’d promise that he was working on it if I’d just give him more time.” She waved the gun around in the air. “Time. Give him time. He had over a year. During that time, he had complete access to my body, but did that spur him on? Hell, no. Finally, I’d had it. He was just fucking me. He had no intention of helping me become the new breakout author.”

Her words nauseated him. His lips snarled in disgust. To think that Dave would have an affair with this worthless piece of trash…

“You didn’t answer his question,” Vanessa said. “Where is Dave?”

“No idea. Probably in some gator’s belly.”

Craig’s breath came hard and fast as he prepared to launch himself at that crazy bitch. She’d killed an innocent kid and his agent. He wouldn’t let her hurt Vanessa.

Vanessa put her hand on his leg and squeezed.

“So what you’re saying is that you killed Dave? He’s dead?” Vanessa asked.

“Isn’t that what I just said?” April shouted. “Dead. He left me just like every man does.”

Craig wanted to point out that killing a man didn’t meant he left you. But he bit his tongue and continued letting Vanessa speak since she sounded more rationale and sane than he would right now.

“And Knue. What happened to Joseph Knue?”

“What is wrong with men today?” April asked. She walked around the room, using the muzzle of her gun to move Craig’s wallet and house key on his dresser. “None of them have the balls to stand up and follow through. Joe was all for writing those notes but when the time came to take action, he wanted out. I told him he couldn’t get out. We were a team, but that wasn’t good enough. He didn’t want to be a team. He told me my writing was amateurish and lacked development. Amateurish! Can you believe that? I showed him amateurish.”

“What about—”

“That’s enough chatting,” April said, interrupting Vanessa. “It’s time to wrap up my project and get to my next one.” Then she smiled. “I wasn’t expecting the pleasure of killing Mrs. Devlin,” she said to Craig.

“Britt,” Vanessa said. “My last name is Britt.”

“What does it matter?” April screamed. “I don’t care what you put on your headstone, or if you even have a headstone. You’re dead, bitch.” Using a two-handed grip, she pointed the gun toward the head of the bed.

The bedroom door burst open. Men in black swat gear swarmed the room, throwing April to the floor before she could pull the trigger. Her hands were jerked behind her and cuffed. Two men hoisted her off the floor and out of the room.

Sheriff Shade Gruber and Vanessa’s fellow Brotherhood Protector Chase Adams walked into the room.

The stocky man nodded. “Great job, Ms. Britt,” the sheriff said.

Vanessa pulled her phone from her pocket. “You got everything?”

“We got it. She’ll get some fancy lawyer who’ll probably plead insanity, but it’ll never fly. We won’t be seeing her again anytime soon.”

Vanessa stood. “Great.” She held out her hand. “Nice working with you.”

The sheriff shook her hand, then touched the brim of his hat. “Keep in touch. I could use someone like you on my team.”

She smiled. “I have a job, Sheriff, but I’ll keep an open mind.”

“Offer’s open anytime.” Gruber looked at Adams. “You staying?”

Adams nodded. “Helping with the Brotherhood Protectors mop-up, so to speak. See you at lunch on Sunday.”

“See you and Fiona then.” He looked at Craig and Vanessa. “The crime scene analysis unit is on site. I’m sending them in. I need for both of you to come to station in the morning and give a statement. More a formality than anything else.”

“Send them to the basement. That’s how she got in,” Vanessa told him.

The sheriff and his men left. Downstairs, he heard the crime scene unit enter.

Craig took up position beside Vanessa. “So, what wrap-up do you have to do?”

“Hank wanted me to help Vanessa.” Adams looked at her. “We have a bedroom ready for you at our place. Hank will send the plane to pick you up when you’re ready to head back to Montana.”

“Thank you,” she said. “My things are packed. I’ll meet you downstairs in a minute.”

The big man nodded and left, shutting the door behind him.

Craig’s heart felt three sizes too small, as though blood wasn’t moving through his body. Breathing was difficult. Acid ate as his stomach as he realized that he didn’t have to wait for her decision. She’d already made it. She was leaving him.

“It’s over,” she said.

“Us or the threat on my life.”

“I was talking about the threat. As far as us? I’m not sure.” She crossed her arms and walked to the window. She stood there for a minute and then turned toward him. “I’ve spent a decade without you. I have to decide if that was enough time or if I’ve really moved on.” She walked back to him and kissed him on the cheek. “No matter what else happens, I did love you, Craig. With all my heart. I’m happy this is over and you can get back to work.”

He grabbed her hand as she turned to walk away. “Don’t go,” he said. His throat was sore and tight from the tears he was fighting. Each word was painful. “Stay. We can work this out.”

She dropped her gaze to his hand and then back to his face. “I can’t.”

He released her arm.

She walked out of his life again.

He stumbled to the edge of the bed and sat. Numbness filled his limbs. He dropped his head into his hands. He’d gambled and lost.