Chained Guilt (Hidden Guilt (Detective Series) Book 1) (33 page)

They pulled up to the house, and Hilary scrambled out of the car. She leaned down through the open window as she shut the door.

“Thanks again!”

Hilary hurried up the walk and to the front door. The door was unlocked, and she rushed inside, intent on getting to her bedroom. She plugged her laptop in and found her cell phone. While her computer booted up, she checked her phone for messages. No texts from anyone but a few calls from Rodney. She hated voicemail, so she didn’t listen to it. She tried calling him back but got no answer.

She logged into her email account and found ten emails from Rodney.

63

Stacy walked into the hospital and quickly scanned the boards to find out which room Karen was in. Her plan was coming to fruition—sooner than she’d planned.
Time to tie up all the loose ends
, she thought. She walked into Karen’s room and found her eyes glued to some silly cartoon.

“Hey there, Sweetie. How you feel this morning?”

“Hi, Stacy!” Karen replied. “I’m feeling much better.”

“Where’s your sister?” Stacy asked. “Why isn’t she here? David . . . your Daddy said she was staying with you. She downstairs in the cafeteria or something?”

“No,” Karen said, her attention back on the television. “One of the nurses took her home to get something for her computer.”

Damn it!
Stacy thought. She still didn’t know if Rodney had sent Hilary any of the information he’d found about her true identity, but she couldn’t take the chance. Not just yet. She forced a smile.

“Oh, okay, Sweetie. Well, I have to make my rounds now. I’ll see you in a little bit. By the way, how long ago did Hilary leave?”

Karen shrugged. “Not long. Maybe ten minutes or so.”

Stacy hurried out of the room. Without speaking to anyone, she took the stairs down and ran to her car. By the time she pulled out of the parking lot, she was flushed with anger. Time to take care of Hilary before all her plans were ruined.

**

Sitting on her bed with her laptop, Hilary opened the last email from Rodney. She was still trying to figure out why Rodney had sent her the article about Lisa Crease. She opened up the last attachment and felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. She read through it again, and then it clicked. She grabbed her phone and punched in Rodney’s number again. No answer.

She ran downstairs, but just as she got to the bottom step, she saw Stacy’s car pull into the driveway. She froze for an instant, hoping Stacy hadn’t seen her through the window. Racing back upstairs, she frantically called her Dad’s cell phone, her fingers trembling.

“Come on, Dad, pick up the phone. Pick up the phone!” she muttered.

No answer. She heard a car door slam outside. She ran to the master bedroom, hoping to find one of her dad’s spare guns. She knew he kept one on a high shelf in his closet.  She had never fired the weapon before, but her dad had shown her how it worked. She had told him a hundred times she’d never need to use one, but he’d insisted she at least know how it worked, just in case. Now she was glad he’d done so.

She snatched the gun and ran back to her bedroom, shutting the door just as she heard Stacy slam the front door. Hilary wedged herself into the far corner, facing the door, her knees pulled up tight to her chin. She held the gun with both hands, resting her forearms on her knees to steady herself. The gun felt heavy in her grip. She waited.

              She heard Stacy’s footsteps on the stairs.

“Hilary,” she said in a sing-song voice. “I know you’re here.”

Suddenly, the door to Hilary’s room flew open with such force it rattled the windows. Hilary jumped, nearly losing her grip on the gun. Stacy stood in the doorway, a sick smile on her face. Hilary had never seen her look so . . . so out of it.

              “Get out of my room!”

“Hilary,” Stacy said, a pouty look on her face. “Don’t hate me. I had to do it.” She frowned and shook her head, staring hard at Hilary. “I had to teach him a lesson. Do you understand that? You ever been raped before, Hilary? Well, have you?”

“You’re a crazy psycho bitch! I was right not to like you. I knew you were crazy! You stay away from me. I have a gun!”

Stacy just stared at her. The look in her eyes frightened Hilary.

“My dad didn’t do anything to you!”

Stacy laughed, a high, crackling sound that cut through the room like a knife.

“Do you think I screwed myself that day? Do you think what he did to me was right?” She took a step into the room. “You know it was your dad’s idea, right? What would you have done? Just let it go? I had to teach him a lesson. I had to give him a taste of the pain I’ve lived with for so many years, the pain I still have today. You know what else?”

She smiled, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. Hilary watched her warily, her hands trembling.

“Your pretty little mother is alive.” She chuckled. “But you’ll never see her again, Hilary, dear. You won’t make it out of this house alive.”

“My mom is dead!” Hilary wailed. “You’re nothing but a crazy liar.”

“You poor thing. That’s what I wanted you to believe,” Stacy said, leaning casually against the doorjamb as if she’d just stopped by to say hello. “This whole thing was perfect. You think I would kill her and make her miss all this excitement?”

She laughed again, her head tossed back, her eyes wild.              

“I took her life. Yes, I took her life, her home, her kids, and I even had sex with her husband in her bed. After all, payback is so sweet. No, she’s nice and cozy in my basement.”

Hilary stared at her. Was she telling the truth? She shook her head.

“You’re a liar!”

Hilary stood, her legs shaking, and braced herself against the wall. She lifted the gun and pointed it at Stacy, only ten feet away.

“Get out of here. Now! If you take one more step, I’ll blow your head off and feel good about doing it.” Her heart pounded with terror. Could she? Could she pull the trigger?

Stacy shook her head. “You’ve never killed anyone before, Hilary. You don’t even know how to use that thing.”

She took another step toward Hilary.

“Don’t bet on it, bitch.”

Stacy grinned and took another step.

“I’m warning you, Stacy . . . or Lisa, or whoever the hell you are.”

Stacy paused, eyeing the gun. “You think I’ve hurt him enough yet? You do have to admit this whole thing was brilliant, wasn’t it? I mean, wow! Oh, and I’m sorry, but you’ll have to find another boyfriend. I didn’t plan on killing him, but he was too damn smart.”

What?
Hilary blinked hard.
Rodney?
She’d killed Rodney?
She felt lightheaded and her legs were numb and tingly. No! No, she had to be strong. No matter what. She had to save her dad, and if the bitch was telling the truth, her mother. Her mother was alive . . .

“We had a wonderful romp in bed though,” Stacy said. “Been a long while since I’ve had such a young one in my bed.”

“Liar!”

“You want to see the video?”

Hilary choked back a sob. At that moment, Stacy lunged forward. Startled, Hilary moved to the side, banging hard into the desk next to her and losing her grip on the gun.

Stacy’s momentum propelled them both to the floor, and Hilary landed hard on her shoulder. Her heart raced as she desperately tried to get up, but Stacy lay on top of her, laughing. Hilary struck blindly, balling her hands into fists and trying to strike Stacy’s nose. Stacy slapped her hard, and Hilary gasped as her head struck the floor. She had to get away!

Hilary groped the floor for the gun, reaching beneath her desk where she thought the gun had landed. Stacy grabbed her hair with both hands and slammed her head into the floor.

Hilary cried out in pain. She tried to lift herself off the floor, but Stacy was too heavy.

“Bitch!” Stacy swore each time she slammed Hilary’s head into the carpet. “Bitch! Bitch!”

Hilary’s vision wavered. Blackness crept in, and she knew if she didn’t do something, she’d be unconscious . . . and dead soon after. She reached a little further with her right hand, trying to scratch at Stacy’s eyes with her left, but the woman managed to keep her head out of Hilary’s reach.

Suddenly, Hilary felt the grip of the gun. She clenched her hand around it. 

              Without thinking, Hilary aimed blindly and pulled the trigger. She fired one round. Above her, Stacy’s eyes widened in surprise. A trickle of blood oozed from her mouth, and then she tilted to the side and slowly toppled over.

              Crying hard and gasping for breath, Hilary dropped the gun and crawled toward the bed. She grabbed the bedpost and pulled herself up, her legs unsteady. She looked at Stacy, a pool of blood soaking the carpet beneath her. She saw no rise and fall of her chest, heard no sound whatsoever.

              Hilary snatched the gun from the floor and took a deep breath. She had to find her dad! She had to tell him what had happened and, more importantly, that their mother was still alive. She wiped the tears from her face as she reached for her phone and called him. Still no answer.

She hesitated and then searched Stacy’s pockets for her car keys. Once in hand, she took one last look at the lifeless body on her bedroom floor and raced down the stairs and out of the house.

64

I was in the middle of a conversation with Captain Wilcrest when Hilary burst into his office, her eyes wild. Her nose was bleeding, and her face was pale and frightened. I jumped to my feet.

              “Hilary! What’s—”

              “I just killed Stacy! She—”

              “What?” I gasped. I glanced at the captain, who had risen to his feet.

              “Hilary—”

              She burst into tears. “Her name’s not Stacy, it’s Lisa. Dad, she said Mom is still alive!”

              I had never felt so confused. “Hilary, slow down.”

              The captain moved around his desk and helped Hilary into the chair I had just vacated.

              “Take your time, Hilary. Tell us what happened,” Wilcrest said.

              Her eyes wide with panic, she tried to explain. “Dad, we have to go! Stacy is really some other person. She tried to kill me. She said you and a bunch of guys raped her a long time ago, and she was punishing you. I killed her! I got your gun and—”

              “You shot her?” I placed my hands on Hilary’s shoulders, felt her wild trembling beneath them. I was too stunned to make sense of it.

              “Dad!”

              She looked up at me with an intensity I’d never seen in her eyes before.

              “Listen to me!” she insisted. “She said Mom is locked in her basement!”

              I could see she was distraught, but she was talking crazy and way too fast. None of it made much sense to me.

“Hilary,” I said, trying to sound calm. “Hilary, slow down. What are you talking about?” 

She paused for a moment and tried to catch her breath. I crouched down beside her chair while the captain hovered over her.

“Dad,” she tried again, her voice filled with anguish. “Stacy is . . . she was someone else.” She choked back a sob. “Rodney left messages for me last night, but I didn’t get them because . . . Anyway, he hacked . . . he found the truth about her. He emailed the files to me, and I saw them this morning when I got home.”

“Wait. How did you get home? You were supposed to be staying with Karen at the hospital!” I still couldn’t make sense of anything.

“I wanted my computer cord and cell phone,” she explained, her voice rising with increasing emotion. “I saw the files, Dad, and then Stacy got there and she was crazy, and . . . I shot her, Dad! She’s dead!”

I didn’t understand it, but I knew Hilary was telling the truth. She wouldn’t—

“Wait,” I said, glancing first at the captain and then down at Hilary. “You said Stacy told you mom—is alive?”

Hilary nodded and lunged out of the chair. She pulled at my arm.

“She said Mom is alive, down in her basement! We’ve got to go!”

Hilary literally dragged me into the hall. Wilcrest followed. When I finally understood what she was trying to tell me, we all ran for the door.

The three of us hurried to Wilcrest’s car and took off. I rode shotgun and Hilary sat in the back. I grabbed the mic and had dispatch send backup and an ambulance to both my house and Stacy’s.

My mind raced. It was simply too much to process.

Wilcrest drove as fast as he dared through town, sirens following us in the distance. I hung on for dear life. I wanted to ask Hilary a million questions, but I doubted I would have heard her over the pounding of my heart.