Betraying Innocence (39 page)

A lamp shot off the end table and burst against the wall. Picture frames rattled on the walls before they dropped one by one to the floor. Glass sprayed everywhere as every light bulb in the living room exploded. Ana screamed as the shards rained down on them. Rafe pulled her to him and covered her, but bits still cut her cheek and her bare feet.

“Ana?”

Her mom and dad came running down the stairs in their night things. Ana expected Johnny to stop and for the room to mysteriously return to its normal state, because he never did anything in front of her parents. But the sight of them only seemed to intensify the cold wave of rage that swept through the room. Knickknacks off the mantel zipped through the air, bursting against the walls and floors. Pages were torn from books and whipped through the room like pieces of fallen snow. The sofa ripped across the floor and slammed into the open doorway, blocking her from her parents.

“Ana!” Her father raced towards her, only to be smacked by an invisible force and sent sailing backwards as though he weighed nothing. He slammed into the railing and slumped to the ground. Her mother
ran to him, but he was already pushing to his feet, his face determined.

“Get out!” Ana shouted to them.

“We’re not going anywhere without you!” her father shouted.

“What’s going on?”
her mother cried as the lights began to flicker rapidly. “How’s this happening?”

“Johnny, enough!
” Ana pleaded, looking up at the ceiling.

The house gave a violent shudder like it was ready to collapse. Then everything went still.
Her father was across the room in a flash, grabbing Ana from Rafe and pulling her into his arms.

“Are you all right?”

She nodded. “Are you?”

“What was that?” her mother demanded, making her way more carefully to join them.

Ana looked at Rafe, who nodded. She faced her parents. “I need to tell you something.”

The full story that was three months in the making, took less than twenty minutes to tell. Ana was amazed at how quiet her parents got the longer she went on. She had expected doubt, annoyance and maybe even fear, but both steadily seemed to grow angrier the more in-depth she got.
Her father nearly had steam coming out of his ears.

“That son of a bitch!” he snarled
and leapt to his feet. “I should have killed him while I had the chance.”

“Stand in line,”
Rafe muttered from his slumped position against the wall next to the window.

Her mother continued to just rock her head from side to side, her mouth gaping as she stared at her ruined living room in horror.
“I nearly let him in,” she croaked. “I almost let that monster into our home.”

“You didn’t know,” Ana said. “I should have told you. I’m sorry.”

Her father shook his head slowly. “We need to figure out how we’re going to deal with this. I know the first thing I’m going to do in the morning is dig up that pond. If that boy is down there, we’ll make sure he gets a proper burial.”

Her mother nodded. “Poor thing. I wonder if there’s a way to get a hold of his parents. I’m sure they would like the closure.”

“As for those assholes…” Her father marched to the phone and snatched it up.

“Who are you calling?” Ana asked.

“The sheriff. I’m sure—” The phone was snatched from his grasp by invisible hands and sent into the wall where it shattered.

Her mother screamed.

Her father went ashen. “Jesus…”

“The sheriff won’t do anything,” Ana told him.
“Philip Andrews is the mayor. It’s your word against his.”

“There has to be something—”

Something slammed into the side of the house and the world went dark.

As her parents scrambled to get flashlights, Ana
went to the window overlooking the front lawn. Night hummed in its darkness. All the kids had gone to bed, their bellies full of sweets. There was only one kind of person out now; the kind that lived to terrorize, and it was Halloween. It was the hour of tricking, of frightening those who were unsuspecting. Ana had a feeling it was going to be a long night as a dark figure lurched past the window.

Ana

Riotous laughter filled the night. The sound of bottles striking the side of the house and shattering shook the quiet of the night. She watched from the window as ropes of toilet paper and silly string were strung from the trees and bushes.

“I’m going out there,” her father said, already at the door.

“And do what?” her mother hissed. “Call the police!”

“They cut the electricity,” he said. “The phones aren’t working.”

“Use your cell!”

“It doesn’t work inside!” he reminded her. “And I can’t just stand on the front porch and ask them to wait a minute while I phone the sheriff.”

“And whose fault is that?” her mother cried. “You brought us to this horrible place.”

As they bickered
on the threshold of what was the worst moment Ana could ever remember, she turned to Rafe. “I have an idea.”

Leaving her parents shouting at each other in the sitting room, Ana led the way through the kitchen towards the back
door. The door gave easily in her grasp as she slipped into the muggy night with Rafe at her heel. The cool grass tickled her bare feet as she tiptoed her way to the side of the house. She stopped when her feet caught the tangled mess that was the hose. She picked up the heavy duty pressure washer gun her dad used to hose down the truck and motioned for Rafe to keep quiet.

Rafe
’s eyes went from narrowed slits of curiosity to wide horror as he realized what she was doing. He started to shake his head, but she wasn’t paying attention anymore. Quietly, she dragged the hose to the edge of the house and peeked around to make sure she had everyone in her sights before taking aim.

The spray struck one dead in the face as he’d pulled back his arm for another attack. The bottle clattered to the ground as he went sailing onto his backside.
Drunk, it took a moment longer for the others to comprehend what was happening. But by the time they got their senses about them to act, Ana had them pinned, hosing them down until they were tripping over themselves trying to get away.

“Let’s get out of here!” one shouted.

“This is so not worth the fifty bucks!” another slurred, stumbling over his own feet in his haste to get out of the path of Ana’s high pressured jet.

Cussing and
yelling, they slipped and slid their back to their car. It fishtailed violently as they swerved down the driveway and out of sight.

Laughing, Ana
turned to Rafe, expecting him to accept the hand she raised for a high five.

“We did it!”

Rafe wasn’t smiling. His face was tense as he looked over the darkness stretching around them.

“
Get inside.” His hand closed over her elbow.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, stumbling to keep up with his long strides. “They’re gone.”

But he didn’t slow his pass. On the back porch, he turned his head and did another scan of their surroundings before pushing her inside. He closed and locked the door behind them.

“I thought I saw something,” he said. “It could have been nothing, but…” He started towards the living room. “I would much rather if you—”

“Hello children.”

Rafe came to a skidding halt. His hand shot out and grabbed Ana before she could
run to her parents. His fingers bit into her arm, hurting, but she didn’t notice. What was displayed before her was so much worse.

“Mom!”

“Let her go,” Rafe said, his voice shaking with anger.

Philip Andrews smiled at them indulgently while pressing a little harder with the blade in his hand. A thin ribbon of blood trickled from the slit it opened beneath her mom’s chin.
Her mom whimpered, but remained as still as possible as a fine trail of blood ran down her throat.

“You son of a bitch!” her father roared, struggling to rise from his kneeling position next to his wife.

“Don’t move, Richard,” Andrews scolded almost playfully. “I’m sure you won’t like the mess she’ll make if my hand slips.”

Her father growled, but remained
motionless.

Ana
started to move forward, needing to get closer to her parents. Rafe stopped her, pulling her back.

“No, no, let her
in,” Philip said. “It wouldn’t be a party without the whole family.”

He jerked a chin for them to have a seat on the sofa, a sofa already occupied. Ana hadn’t seen the other man until they rounded the sofa and found him reclined there as though he belonged.
But nothing about him belonged, not in her house, not on her sofa.

Nathan Finnegan grinned at them.

Ana stared at him, disgusted. “You’re a principal of a school for children. How are you okay with this?”

“He’s okay because he has no choice,” Andrews answered.
“Nathan has as much at stake as I do. We’re both very well loved in this community. We both have jobs that put us in a position of extreme power. We really can’t have you ruining everything we worked years to accomplish.”

“We won’t tell anyone,” Ana said pleadingly, her gaze fixed on the crimson stain marring her mother’s slender throat. “Please, let her go.”

Andrews frowned. “I would love to, but I just don’t believe you. Nathan and I have thought long and hard about this. We considered just letting you and your family leave, but what of his family?” He gestured with his chin towards Rafe. “Plus, we know how morally aware people think. The secret would eventually eat at you and compel you to tell. Kind of the way it did for Randy. Only difference is that no one ever believes the ravings of a drunk. You, on the other hand, Ana, have proven to be annoyingly stubborn. We can’t have that.”

“I swear,” Ana begged. “We will never talk to anyone about you. Just let us go.”

“Which would you pick?”

The question was so unexpected that Ana could only stare for a moment as she tried to piece it together.

“What?” she finally said, her voice hoarse.

“Which do you pick?” Andrews repeated. “
Your mother or your father, which would you like me to spare?”

Ana started to rock her head from side to side. Tears welled and spilled down her face.

“No, please—”

“Cho
ose!” Andrews snarled, making Ana jump.

Trembling all over, she looked from her mother’s wide, gray eyes to her father’s soft, mossy green eyes.
Both stared back at her with love and understanding.

“It’s okay, baby,” her dad murmured.

How could he say that? There was nothing okay about what was happening.

“Cho
ose, Ana, or I will choose for you,” Andrews said in a bored tone. “One. Two. Thr—”

“Mom!” Ana blurted.
Eyes she had no recollection of closing flew open, swinging to her father, expecting to see betrayal and anger.

But he smiled at her. “Good girl.”

Moving with lightning fast reflexes, Andrews grabbed her father by the hair, yanked his head back and plunged the blade deep into his gut. Blood flew in an arch as the blade was torn out viciously from his body. Ana screamed as her entire world rocked off its axis. The half-animal wail coiled with her mother’s shriek of despair as Dad slumped over clutching his midsection. Mom threw herself on him, pressing both hands over his wound and begging for him not to let go. Ana sunk to the floor, slipping out of the hold Rafe had on her. Glass and debris cut into her palms and knees as she crawled to where her father lay, gasping. A fine trickle of blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth as he opened and closed his lips.

I … I love you,” he rasped.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” she sobbed.

“No…” he choked out. “Right choice.”

“Aw isn’t this beautiful?” Andrews looked over to where Finnegan was sitting, watching the show with an unnaturally blank expression.

“Bastard!” Ana threw herself at Andrews, nails bared.

She caught his left cheek, cutting four angry gashes across his handsome face before she was backhanded to the ground. The world rang, a summersault of voices and colors too loud for her hurting brain. The right side of her face throbbed as though she’d been too close to an open flame and that side had begun to melt off. The taste of blood filled her mouth. She spat it out, a thick splotch of crimson across her mother’s floor.

Five cruel fingers curled into the back of her neck
and she was hoisted none-too-gently to her feet. Something cold and sharp bit into her throat.

“Take another step
, boy, and we’ll see just what color her insides are.”

The blur across her vision lifted and Ana blinked at the world she stood in.

Her father was on the ground, still alive, but barely. Her mother was holding the wound, blood covering her arms to the elbows. She was quietly sobbing, something Ana hadn’t ever seen her mother do, while her father consoled her softly. And Rafe … Rafe had his arms pinned to his back by Finnegan. His lip was bleeding and there was a hatred in his eyes that would have scared her had it been aimed at her.

“I don’t like hurting people,” Andrews said evenly. “
I just want to live the rest of my life with my wife and son. I don’t know why that’s such a hard thing to understand.”

No one missed the odd line in his remark, that single word that just wasn’t right in the picture he was trying to paint.

“Your son is dead!” Rafe pointed out.

Even Finnegan looked puzzled as he stared over
Rafe’s head at his partner.

“Okay, Phil?”

Andrews’ arm tightened around Ana’s throat, making her squirm. “Of course I’m okay! What’s wrong with you?”

“What are you going to do with us?” Ana asked,
unable to keep the fear steady in her voice.

“There’s going to be an accident,” he answered. “A bunch of punk kid
s broke in and, in a fit of rage over what happened to Vinny, killed everyone inside. Then they set fire to the place. Poor Mr. Ramirez, who happened to be spending the night, was also tragically murdered.”

Ana gasped. “You can’t do that!”

“Sure I can. It’s tragic, but I think we’ll build a park here for children in your honor, after we finish building the rest of the town. This will all be an apartment building. What do you think?”

“I think you’re bat-shit crazy,” Rafe answered, struggling against the hold Finnegan had on him.

Andrews pressed harder with the blade he held under Ana’
s chin. She whimpered and Rafe ceased his fighting.

“It’s never a good idea to piss off the
guy holding the weapon and the girl you care about. Didn’t your crime novels teach you that?”

“Let my parents and Rafe go,” Ana pleaded. “Please, they don’t know anything. It’s all me. Just take me.”

“Ana, no!” Rafe growled.

“Shut up, Rafe!” she growled back. “You need to shut up!”
She turned her attention back to the maniac with the knife. “Please. I never told them. Your secret will die with me.”

Andrews laughed. “Do you think I don’t
have eyes and ears all over this town? I knew the minute you walked into the library and made copies of that old article. I was on the phone when you visited Peter. I know you went to see Randy and I know you…” he broke inexplicably.

The blade was still pushing into the soft tissues of her throat, hindering her from
turning her head, but she didn’t need to see Andrews’ face. She knew exactly what had caught the mayor’s attention.

Illuminating the doorway, Johnny stared back at them. His blue eyes bore into Andrews with the biting promise of death. Finnegan and Rafe turned and Finnegan swore. He released Rafe and stumbled back, his eyes enormous against his stark expression.

“J … Johnny?” he stammered, hitting the wall.

Ignoring him completely, Johnny moved a step deeper into the room. His loafers made no sound against the hardwood.

“Stop right there!” Andrews shouted. “I’ll cut her. I’ll slit her throat. I don’t care!”

To Ana’s amazement, Johnny stopped, but his eyes narrowed. The roo
m was suddenly unbearably cold. Ana gasped as the cutting temperatures gnawed through her clothes to sink into her flesh.

“How is this possible?” Finnegan gasped,
as he half sunk to the ground. “You’re dead. I saw you die!”

Johnny never spared him a glance. All his attention was focused on the man cutting shallow nicks into Ana’s skin
with his unsteady hand.

He took a step.

“I said stop!” Andrews barked.

Without a word of warning, the dagger flew out of Andrews’ hand. No one knew what happened until a low, pitiful squeak had their attentions turning to Finnegan
as he slowly sunk to the ground, the hunting dagger protruding from the center of his chest.

Ana wanted to scream
, but there was no time when Andrews was unexpectedly grabbed from behind and slammed face first into the ground as though someone had yanked his feet out from under him. His nose struck the hardwood with a crunch that would haunt Ana for the rest of her life. Blood left a long, thick smear as he was snatched up around the ankles and dragged out of the room. They heard the thud of a body rolling down the basement stairs, the door slamming shut, and then silence.