Falling for Sarah (40 page)

“Oh, all kinds of things, but first we’re going home. I have a surprise for you. If you try to run when we get outside, if you even blink the wrong way and draw attention to yourself, I’ll have to kill you.”

“I told you I wouldn’t.”

“You’re a woman. You’re word doesn’t mean dick to me. You’re all liars, every last one of you.” His eyes widened, his pupils dilated, and the madman was back.

Disgust mixed with fear, skittering along her skin like spiders. Shuddering, she looked away.

“Let’s go. You’re screwing it all up. We’re late.”

Late for what, she wondered as they stepped into the sun and noise of a busy Sunday. Cars drove past, people rode by on bikes. Help was only a shout away, but she didn’t dare, not when he could shoot her and kill the baby or both of them. She had to get a call out to Ethan, but how?

Matthew stood behind her as they approached his vehicle. “Remember what I said. Now get in the car so I don’t have to hurt you.” He pressed his nose to her hair, inhaled deeply. “You smell so good.”

Slamming her eyes shut, trying not to gag, she opened the door, got in, put her purse down at her side. If she could reach in and dial Ethan’s number, he would be able to hear what was going on.

Matthew shut his door and yanked her purse away. “You won’t need that.”

Now what? She glanced at her watch as he pulled into the busy traffic, heading back toward the Palisades. It was four-thirty. Hailey would be expecting her; so would Ethan.

“Go ahead and keep looking at your watch, bitch.” He began to laugh. “Do you think by some miracle Master Cooke is going to come and save you, Sarah? Not this time. By the time anyone realizes you’re gone, we’ll have moved on to our more exciting plans for the evening.”

Sarah wanted to spit in his face, to try to grab the butt of the gun resting at his waist, even jump from the car. If she didn’t have the baby, she would’ve done all three, but she did. She wouldn’t risk her child. Instead she stared out the window, desperately trying to think of a way out of this.

It wasn’t long before Matthew turned off the Pacific Coast Highway and headed into the quiet neighborhoods. He pulled into a drive four blocks from her house. The pretty, two-story house, painted a glistening white with black shutters, surprised her. It looked so…normal, even cozy. When she spotted the blue roses, wrapping around the trellis, she remembered there was nothing normal about Matthew Denmire.

He blew out a deep breath teaming with satisfaction as he leaned back, relaxing his hands on the wheel. “Well, this is it. What do you think?”

She didn’t dare look at him. She stared straight ahead. “It’s lovely.”

“It’s your new home until I decide otherwise. Let’s get you settled in.”

Sarah stepped from the car with no choice but to follow.

Chapter 28

D
EEP BLACK FADED TO GRAY as she moaned, blinking, trying to focus. Stabs of sharp, excruciating pain sliced through Lisa’s skull and she whimpered. Where was she? Why did she
hurt
like this? She turned her head and cried out against the unbearable ache. Tears coursed down her cheeks, and she retched in agony.

Lying still, breath sobbing in and out, she stared at the pool of blood and vomit puddled on dirty concrete. Where was that coming from? Her eyes darted about the dim room. Everything was so blurry. A white calla lily dangled from the table above and it clicked—the flower warehouse. “Matthew,” she croaked. Where had he gone? Where was Sarah?

Dull and listless, her mind clicked off again. For several minutes she listened to the hum of the pipes above, fighting to find the will to think over the confusion. It was so hard to think over the drumbeat in her brain. “Sarah?” Why weren’t they coming for her?

And then she remembered. Where was he? She had to hide, to get away from the monster with the dead green eyes. He’d smiled at her, holding the heavy crystal vase she’d chosen from the shelf in the next room.

“Who knew a crude broad like you actually had taste, Lisa? Do you know what I’m going to do with your lovely selection? I’m going to smash it over your head.”

She stepped back, trying to make it to the door, and he laughed. “Although I do love a good game of hide-and-go-seek, I just don’t have time today. It’s your day to die, Lisa. I’m very much looking forward to killing you.” He pulled a gun from his pocket. When he pressed the trigger, a hot current screamed through her body and she fell to the ground in pain, unable move. He waited until she made it to her hands and knees before she heard him say, “Night-night, Lisa.” And then she felt the crushing blow before she felt nothing at all.

Had he done the same thing to Sarah? What if she was out on the floor, unconscious? She had to get to her phone. Her purse lay feet away, leaning against the chair she’d pulled out to sit in before Matthew had gone mad.

Lisa scooted forward, inch by agonizing inch. Black and red spots danced in front of her eyes before she closed them, taking several deep breaths. She opened them again and her purse looked farther away than it had when she started.

Sweat dripped into her eyes and she brushed her arm over her forehead. She gasped as she pulled back, watching deep red drops dribble down to her wrist. Would she bleed to death before she could call for help? Her heart pounded in utter terror as she imagined dying alone on the filthy office floor. Her head throbbed with the tempo, only increasing the mind-numbing pain. She had to get a grip or she
would
die here.

Like hell she would. That bastard wasn’t going to win. This wasn’t how she was going out. Determined to live, determined to pay Matthew Denmire back, Lisa pulled herself forward, far enough to reach the strap of her bag.

She tugged her purse toward her and reached in, feeling around until her fingers clamped against the cool plastic of her phone. Her vision grayed, wavering and she bit her lip. She pressed 9-1-1 against the pad, moved it closer to her ear.

“Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

“I need…help…” The gray grew darker, circling up to grab her.

Ethan sat in front of his computer, cross-referencing the rice paper orders for the third time in two days. Nothing was adding up to Eric Walker being the buyer. Two names stuck out due to the large number of orders they had placed in the last six months, and the man accused of being ‘The Blue Chip Rapist’ wasn’t one of them.

Terrance Ward, over in Bel Air, had ordered hundreds of extra sheets, as well as an Ezekiel M. Denmire. Ethan kept hovering his mouse over that name. Why the hell did it sound so familiar? And why was Ezekiel having paper delivered to a personal address instead of a place of business? That was certainly worth looking into.

The phone rang. He picked it up without glancing at the readout.

“Cooke.”

“Ethan, it’s Hailey.”

He instantly picked up on the tension in her voice. “Is everything okay?”

“Well, I’m not sure. Sarah isn’t back yet.”

He darted a glance at the clock on his computer screen—five-twenty. “Her appointment was at one, right?”

“Yeah, and she said she thought she wouldn’t be any later than three-thirty. I’ve tried her cell several times, but she isn’t picking up.”

He didn’t like it. “Keep trying her phone. I’ll call Lisa.”

Ethan hung up and searched through his numbers until he found Lisa’s assistant. He punched in her number, waited impatiently, tapping his fingers against the wood of his desk. Sarah always answered her phone, especially when it was Hailey.

“Good afternoon,
Celebrity
Magazine. This is—”

“Dana, right?”

“Yes. Who’s this?”

“Dana, this is Ethan Cooke. I’m a good friend of Sarah Johnson’s. She and Lisa were supposed to have a meeting this afternoon.”

“Yes, we’ve been unable to reach Lisa for the last couple of hours. If—”

He hung up, stood. Something was wrong. He punched in Hunter’s number on his way out the door.

“We’re on our way over, man.”

“I can’t find Sarah.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hailey just called. Sarah was supposed to be home an hour and a half ago. She’s not answering her phone. I just called the magazine. Lisa hasn’t answered hers either.”

“I
knew
I should’ve gone with her. That guy was a fucking creep.”

Remembering the day clearly enough, he knew he hadn’t paid a damn bit of attention. He’d been too caught up in the fight he and Sarah had had on the beach to focus on the florist. He couldn’t even remember what the guy looked like. “I’m heading over there now to see if I can find out what’s going on.”

“I’ll call Austin and drop Morgan off at Sarah’s. We’ll start canvassing the area between the shop and her house. Maybe she stopped off somewhere, broke down, locked her purse in the car.”

As Ethan yanked the Rover door open, he knew Hunter didn’t believe that anymore than he did. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll call you when I get there.”

Ethan drove well over the speed limit on his way to the florist’s. He cut off a Lexus as he changed lanes. The driver honked, waving his arms about madly.

“Get over it, asshole.” He took the left leading down the side street, passed “Elegant Expressions”. The storefront was dark, yet Sarah’s blue sedan sat parallel parked close by, along with Lisa’s snappy black Porsche. Something was definitely wrong.

He continued, searching for a parking space. The bistros and chic little restaurant across from the shop did a steady business. People wandered about; there wasn’t an empty spot to be found. “Fuck.” Unwilling to waste another second, he jerked the wheel to the right and pulled into an alley.

Ethan reached under the seat, pulled his gun from the reinforced box. He placed the Glock in the belt holster he grabbed next and stepped from the SUV. He walked at a fast clip as he dialed Tucker’s number.

“Detective Campbell.”

“Tucker, this is Ethan Cooke.”

“Hey, what can I do for you?”

“Sarah’s missing.”
“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean?” he spat out. “Sarah’s
missing
.”

“Just calm down.”

Ethan approached the shop, cupped his hand against the window, peering in. “Don’t tell me to calm down, Tucker. I’ve been crosschecking your paper orders for two days and there isn’t one, not
one
, fucking link to the man you have in jail right now. Sarah left for a meeting five hours ago and she’s not answering her phone. Neither is her boss.”

“Maybe they’re somewhere they can’t get a signal.”

“Don’t give me that shit.” Ethan stepped from the curb, looked in Sarah’s car, spotting nothing but Kylee’s car seat. He moved to Lisa’s next. “I’m standing next to both of their vehicles. The florist shop where they were supposed to meet is dark.”

“Let me…” Voices entered Tucker’s office, cutting him off. “Hold on, Ethan.”

Ethan jogged to his Rover, knowing in his heart Sarah wasn’t there. Where the hell was she? Fear threatened to cloud his brain, but he pushed it back; he needed to keep a cool head. “Tucker?”

“I’m going to have to call you back.”

“No, wait—”
“Right back, Ethan.”

He heard the click. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Ethan sat in his seat, dialed Hailey again.

“Hello?”

“It’s Ethan. Have you heard anything?”

“No, nothing.”

“Keep trying.”

He swung a u-turn on the busy street, waving his hand in thank-you at the car that let him out.

He drove past the shop again, stopping as a couple stepped into the crosswalk. While he waited, he scanned the darkened picture window and Sarah’s car. He pressed on the accelerator, planning to head home, slammed on his brakes, stopping traffic, as he zeroed in on the small squiggle of a name under the bold, fancy scroll of ‘Elegant Expressions’. He yanked his door open, ran closer, reading
Proprietor: E.M. Denmire
.

Everything clicked. Ezekiel M. Denmire. The florist who had paper sent to his home instead of his business. The florist, who in Hunter’s words, was ‘a fucking creep’. Running back among the honks and shouts from disgruntled drivers, he moved again, punching in Hunter’s number.

“Phillips.”

“He’s got her, Hunter. The fucking rapist has her. I can feel it.”

“I’ll call the police.”

“No. Listen to me. I’ve already tried that. I have his information at my house. It should still be up on the computer.”

“Austin’s there. He went over to see if Sarah might end up there.”

“I’ll call him for the address. You and Austin meet me. LAPD had their chance.”

He hung up, dialed again, reaching Austin on the second ring.

“Yeah, boss.”

“I need the address on my computer for an Ezekiel M. Denmire. He has Sarah.”

Ethan heard the tap of keys, waiting. “Shit. That’s close. He lives at 2019 Dearborn Avenue. It’s four blocks west of Sarah’s.”

“Meet me there.”

He was close, minutes away. He sped down the Pacific Coast Highway, praying he wasn’t too late.

Chapter 29

S
ARAH STOOD, ARMS WRAPPED TIGHT around herself, in the small room Matthew shoved her in an hour before. Blue roses decorated the side table next to a queen-sized bed. The wedding ring quilt, adorned with different hues of blue and yellow, had been pulled back, hotel style. There was even a fancy chocolate placed in the center of the pillows. She stared at the bed again, realizing what he would expect from her later, and clutched her arms tighter.

Moments after he’d slammed the door and locked it, Sarah rushed into the bathroom, looking for escape. The setting sun had blazed bright through the small window high above the toilet, but it was too far up and she couldn’t fit through the opening. When she knew she was officially stuck, that there was nothing more she could do, she sat on the spotless tile, rested her back against the cabinet and wept until she’d been able to think through the fear again.

Resolved to find a way through this, to survive for her children, for Ethan and the life they planned to make, she’d stood and started to plan. At some point, Matthew would come for her. When she found the right moment, she would do whatever she had to to get out of there.

Matthew knocked on her door as if he weren’t in charge of the sick game and entered. “Why aren’t you relaxing, Sarah? We have a very special night ahead. I’m fixing your favorite meal as we speak. Who knows, this might be your last supper. We’ll have to see, though. If I like your style—“ his gaze wandered to the bed as he smiled “—I might keep you around a little longer.”