Love Inspired Suspense April 2015 #1 (55 page)

“I know why.”

Senator Travis. He'd forgotten all about the man. The senator had lost his arrogance. His shoulders slumped and his hands were slammed into his pockets. His eyes were a little wild-looking. Paul indicated he should continue.

“Cathy and I were involved years ago, back in North Carolina. When I broke it off to marry Helen, she was furious. Beyond furious. Crazy mad.”

“How crazy?” Jace was putting two and two together. “Enough to stalk you? You said only personal items, items special to you, were taken when your home and office were robbed. Would Cathy have known they were special to you?”

“I don't know. Probably. But I do know one thing. When Sylvie first started hounding me, Cathy was furious with me.”

“Why?”

Head bowed, the senator confessed, “Because she had gotten pregnant when we were involved. Neither of us wanted a kid at the time, so she gave him up for adoption. Five years ago, he found her. Cathy felt I owed it to him to put him into my will, and she didn't want any other illegitimate children taking up any of what she saw as her share.”

His eyes fell on a paper on Paul's desk. They widened. Pointing a shaking finger at the picture, the senator declared, “That's him. Why do you have his picture?”

Jace's blood ran cold. He was pointing to the sketch of Dr. Ramirez.

SEVENTEEN

T
hey'd been driving forever. At least that's how it felt to Mel. Cathy had opened the backseat door for Mel, still holding a bright smile in place, and pushed the gun deeper into her side. “Get in,” she'd grated between her teeth. Mel had gotten the message, and had forced her trembling legs to climb up into the SUV next to Dr. Ramirez.

He was not smiling. Quite the opposite. She shivered at the icy stare he kept trained on her. She squeezed up against the door in an effort to put as much distance between the two of them as possible. It was not far enough. With little effort, he reached out and grabbed hold of both her wrists in one large hand. With his other hand, he pulled out some rope and casually bound her hands together. Even more frightening was the utter lack of emotion with which he did this.

“Now, isn't this cozy?” Cathy smirked from the front seat, eyeing them through the rearview mirror. Her Southern accent had always seemed so charming and genteel. Now it just seemed sickening and fake.

At least Mel's breathing had improved. Walking out into the fresh March air, she felt her inflamed airways loosen enough so she was able to suck in almost a normal lungful of oxygen. She still heard her lungs wheeze when she exhaled. There was no way to fix that now. Her inhaler was back at the police station.

Jace. Surely he would start to wonder where she had gone. Hope struggled to breathe along with her weak lungs. Since her release, he had always come through for her. She hadn't thought she could count on any man...but she was beginning to count on him. She just needed to hang on and pray.

“It's such a shame this had to happen, Melanie. I really did like you,” Cathy mused.

“Why are you doing this? I thought you were my friend?” Melanie wheezed.

Cathy laughed, and the hairs on Mel's arm raised on end. The sound slithered down her spine. “Friends? Oh, no, honey. You were a tool. A means to an end. And now I don't need you anymore. In fact, please excuse me for sounding callous, dear, but you're in my way.”

“You're going to kill me, aren't you?” Mel lifted her chin. If she was going to die, she'd at least learn why first.

“Well, of course we are!” Cathy drawled. “Just as soon as we get to our destination. Isn't that right, James?”

James lifted one corner of his mouth in a semblance of a smile. It looked more like a snarl. “I don't know, Cathy. Asthma is often brought on by fear or stress. I suspect that if we do nothing more than torture her a little, her own lousy lungs'll do her in for us.”

“He knows these things,” Cathy confided to Mel. “He really did spend some time in medical school.”

As if his knowing how to kill her was a good thing!
Stay calm Mel, stay calm.
Her lungs were feeling tighter.

“Why?” she managed to push the question through her stiff lips.

“It's the senator's fault, really.” Cathy frowned, an ugly snarl darkening her face. “We were supposed to get married. Than he dumps me, leaves me pregnant and alone at seventeen. I had no choice but to give up my baby.”

Cathy had been with Seth's father? Was that man capable of fidelity?

She focused in on Cathy's story. “But my son came looking for me.” Cathy's eyes glowed. “Didn't you, James? We were all set to blackmail the senator for our share of his wealth. After all, I bore him a son before that wimp Helen. I'm far more fit as a wife for him than she is. His wife is sick, you know—some kind of degenerative disease. I've been dreaming for a long time of taking her place. I've even managed to get my hands on a few trinkets that should have been mine. Jewels, small heirlooms, things of that nature.”

Something clicked in Mel's mind. She remembered the senator confronting Jace.

“You're the person who's been stealing from the senator,” she wheezed.

“Stealing? Honey, once he marries me that stuff will be mine, anyway.”

She was sitting with a madwoman. Only Cathy Jordan's eyes were totally sane. Obsessed, cruel, yes—but she was coldly sane.

“What about Sylvie? Did you kill Sylvie?”

Cathy lifted her chin and sneered at Mel in the mirror. “What a simpleton you are. Of course we did! That little snot came sniffing around the senator, too, claiming to be his daughter. Wanted him to acknowledge her, give her some money. Some of
my
money. I couldn't let that happen. Fortunately, James's adoptive father has connections. He learned very early how to survive, and made sure James got a good education. He was able to overpower Sylvie and drug her with enough bad heroin to kill her. But then you stuck your nose in where it didn't belong.”

James broke into the narrative. “I saw you standing outside the dorm, watching me. I figured I'd take something of yours and leave it in Sylvie's dorm room to incriminate you, then make it look like you had killed yourself. Throw in a suicide note, and no one would be the wiser. Classic murder-suicide. Only someone came in and interrupted me before I could finish forcing the pills down your throat.”

She had forgotten. One of her friends had been staying with her, helping with the rent once Seth had walked out on her. She remembered now that Alicia had been the one to find her.

“But why Aunt Sarah?” Melanie choked, her throat constricting, the back of her eyes stinging with unshed tears.

“I knew that juror had spoken to her. I'd gone through so much effort to threaten them, and she was going to tell. The idiot girl actually told me she'd been to see your aunt. She's to blame for both their deaths.” Cathy pulled into a lane. It was nothing more than a tractor path, stretching far back into the trees. It curved around in front of a small hunting shack.

A shack that wasn't visible from the road.

Stepping from the car, Cathy hurried up the walkway to open the door and switch on a light. Melanie noticed that she was favoring her left wrist. James exited after her, walking at a leisurely pace around the SUV to open Mel's door. She attempted to scuttle across to the other side, away from him, but he seized her with a steel grip and hauled her from the car. Slamming the door behind her, he yanked her up the walk to join his mother. Mel fought with all she was worth, but her meager strength, diminished by her struggling lungs, was no match for his. He actually chuckled, as if amused by her antics. He dragged her inside and tied her to a wooden chair.

“It's ironic, isn't it, that I had decided to let you live?” Cathy sashayed over to Mel and stood over her. “It wasn't until I realized that you and that detective were starting to figure things out that I started to worry. I heard you talking to your aunt at the hospital about the juror...I liked to go and visit Helen Travis, to make sure she was still weakening. I knew I had to act. It's a shame you didn't die when James tried to run you down that day. It would have looked like a hit-and-run. We had to resort to using the fire to try to make your death look like an accident.”

“You're crazy,” Mel breathed. “There was nothing accidental about the gun he shot at us. Or the car bomb.”

“Yes, well, James got a little impatient. It doesn't matter. They can never trace that back to me. In fact, it actually helped me. I have airtight alibis for every instance.”

“I'm hungry,” James declared. “I say we let her sit and stew a bit before we finish her off. Who knows, maybe her asthma will get the best of her. Hopefully, no one noticed her following you. If we're lucky, maybe we can still pull her death off as an accident.”

Cathy leaned over and patted Mel's cheek with her right hand. Mel recoiled. Cathy laughed. Mel could see it in her eyes, Cathy was just playing with her now. She had every intention of getting rid of Melanie.

Taking his mother's place, James leaned over to push his face close to Melanie's. The stench of stale cigarettes wafted from his clothes and his breath. Her stomach roiled. “You'd best say your prayers, little girl. You don't have much time left.”

As the two sauntered from the room, James looked back over his shoulder with a malicious grin. He reached out and flicked a switch, turning off the single light in the room. Outside, it was still daylight, but inside the cramped little cabin with its dark paneled walls and curtained windows, it was nearly dark.

Melanie's imagination ran wild as the shadows played on the walls. Her breathing grew heavy and strained. Sweat ran down her neck. Unlike when she had been locked in the bathroom—was that really only days ago?—she knew who her tormentors were. And she knew their plans for her. She wanted Jace to come and find her, hold her and tell her he would protect her. Jace was probably in danger, too. Cathy and James both knew he was searching for the truth.

She bowed her head and prayed, silent tears running down her cheeks. She continued praying, even as her breathing grew more and more labored. She opened her mouth to suck in larger gulps of air, her breaths coming in harsh rasps. It felt as if someone were holding her bronchial tubes in the hands and squeezing them closed.

She was running out of time.

* * *

“Several people saw them in Cathy's black SUV,” Paul informed the group of officers in the briefing room. “I'm passing around the license plate number, as well as pictures of Cathy Jordan and Melanie Swanson and the sketch of Cathy's son, James Sanchez. The suspects are armed and dangerous.”

“Any idea where they're headed, Chief?” Dan Willis called out.

“We have several ideas.” Jace picked up the remote control and switched the image on the screen to a new one downloaded minutes ago. “This is, of course, Sarah Swanson's house. Dylan and Scott will head there.” Click. “This is the last known residence of Sanchez. Sheila and Sam, that's your destination.” Click. “Dan, I want you to go with me to the hunting cabin owned by Cathy's brother.” Click. Jace finished giving out the assignments, anxious to be on the way.

“Any questions?”

Seeing there were none, the officers departed.

Jace jogged to the stairwell and made it down the stairs in record time, Dan right behind him. Jace patted his uniform jacket. The inhaler was there, safe and sound. He only prayed he'd be able to deliver it to Mel.

Sliding into the new cruiser the department had just issued him that morning, Jace waited barely long enough for Dan to close his door before putting his foot to the gas pedal and roaring out of the parking lot. He flipped on his siren immediately. At his best guess, the cabin was twenty-five minutes away. Cathy and Mel had slipped out of the station forty minutes ago.

Jace had been all set to rush out at once, but Paul had convinced him to wait until they could get the information. No use driving around aimlessly.

Jace thought about all the new information they had gathered. He figured Cathy had put the bug into Mel's purse, but when? “It must have been at her aunt's house,” he mused.

“What must have been at her aunt's house?”

“Huh?” Jace glanced over at Dan in confusion. The other man patiently repeated his question. “Oh, right. I was thinking. Mel had laughed about how klutzy Cathy was. How she had knocked over her purse at her aunt's house while Mel was packing her things to come to my mom's place. Didn't think anything of it at the time. Looking back, that must have been when she planted the bug.”

“That would explain how Sanchez knew Melanie was going there after the funeral.” Dan said, nodding slowly.

“It would also explain why Cathy was searching Maggie's house. I had mentioned in passing that I felt we'd find evidence there. She had to have known I had asked for a search warrant.”

The radio crackled to life. Nothing found at Sanchez's old place.

Okay, there were still other venues to search. Jace felt his heart thud inside his chest. Why had he allowed the events of the past to have so much power over him? Melanie needed him. He knew she was suffering. Did she know he would search until he found her? She had to be terrified. What if—no! He would not think that. Melanie was fine. She was strong. She had survived four years in prison; she would get through this.

As soon as she was safe, he was going to beg her to give him a chance.

A second team called in. Still nothing. They were still fifteen minutes out from the cabin. He needed to pray. No words came to mind. He recited a Psalm in his head.

She had to be at the cabin. She just had to be.

When they arrived at the lane that served as a driveway, Jace cut the engine.

“Dan, you go up through those fields and creep around the back of the place. I'm going to head in from the side.” Dan nodded.

As he neared the cabin, he could see that the curtains were drawn. He inched closer to the house, gun ready. He peered in through the sliver of open area between the curtain and the sill. Dining room. Empty. He edged around to the next room. Kitchen. Light spilled out from beneath the flimsy curtains. He could hear the low rumble of voices within. Cathy's high-pitched giggle was easy to pick out. A lower voice, a man's, was also distinguishable. He didn't hear a third. He continued around. The next room was dark. Instinctively, he ducked lower and tried to find a space to peer inside. He couldn't see a thing.

He hunched against the wall when the light flared on in the room. The sound of a slap was heard, and a cry. Melanie's. Relief nearly drowned him. She was alive.
Hold tight, Mel. I'll be there as soon as I can
. Quickly, he texted Paul.
Mel at cabin. Call for backup & ambulance.

He edged back toward the kitchen. The light had been turned off. Dan joined him, having come around the other way. Placing his hand with care on the doorknob, Jace turned it a centimeter at a time. It was unlocked. The two officers managed to slide inside and approach the front room.

Cathy sat on the couch, legs crossed, watching serenely as Sanchez prepared a large needle. He held it upright and pushed the dispenser, getting rid of air bubbles and shooting out a few drops of liquid. He held the needle in his large hands and grinned at Melanie.