Fractured Light (15 page)

Christian led me out with an expression that was anything but friendly. “Sorry about my dad,” he said, once we were out of ear shot.

“What did he mean by
It never is my fault
?” I asked.

“Who knows? My father is pretty bitter toward all women, so it was probably some kind of derogatory comment.”

“Why doesn’t he like women?”

“He just thinks they’re the cause of all his problems.”

“It doesn’t look like he has many problems to me,” I mumbled, glancing around at all the fancy artwork.

“Looks can be deceiving.” Christian opened a door and showed me into a room. “This is the guest bedroom. There’s a bathroom over there and in the closet is a bunch of girl clothes. You should find something that fits you.”

“Why do you have a bunch of girl clothes if your dad doesn’t like women?”

“Oh, he loves women when the mood fits him, which is entirely too often in my opinion. I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.”

After the door closed, I quickly ducked into the bathroom.The last thing I wanted was to stay in this house any longer than I had to. I had a distinct impression Christian’s father highly disapproved of me, and not just because I was a woman.

It took me longer than I thought to scrub the streak of spray paint off of my face, and by the time I was done, my face sported a big red welt. I frowned. It was a slight improvement from the paint.

After showering, I opened the bedroom closet and gasped. It was bigger than my room at home. I moved among the designer clothing trying not to touch anything unless I thought it looked my size.

A few minutes later I found the least dressy outfit: a blue empire style shirt with a black satin sash that tied below my breasts. I also found a pair of black slacks that were a little too big. A skinny belt hanging from a hook made it possible to keep the paints around my waist. I combed my hair and then searched the bathroom for a rubber band but came up empty. You’d think a room dedicated to women would contain a rubber band, a hair clip, or something.

Because my shoes were still wet, and no other shoes fit, I left the room barefoot. I didn’t make a sound as my bare feet padded across the carpeted floor. Up ahead, raised voices echoed from the office. I was about to let my sensitive hearing eavesdrop on their conversation, but jumped when I heard a loud thumping sound from inside, along with Christian’s dad saying, “That is enough!”

Suddenly the door opened. I darted back into the bedroom before whoever was coming out saw me. Just as I shut the door, I heard Christian say, “Just because you did things a certain way doesn’t make it the right way.” I heard a door slam.

I waited several minutes before I dared venture out again. When I peered back into the hallway, everything was quiet. I moved quietly, careful to avoid the closed office doors, but I inadvertently ran into a picture that was jutting out further than I had anticipated. It made a scraping sound against the wall.

“Christian?” The door opened.

“Hello, sir,” I said, avoiding direct eye contact.

He stared at me for a moment before he said, “Christian’s probably downstairs.”

“Um, thank you.” I hurried past him, but he stopped me.

“Tell your uncle hello,” he said.

I turned around. “My uncle, sir?”

He frowned. “Yes. Didn’t you know he works for me? At Primatech.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“He’s a good worker. It’s hard to find men like him. Mark taught him well.”

I visibly jerked at the sound of my father’s name. “You knew my father?

Christian’s dad stepped into the hallway. I noticed he was limping on his left leg. “I did, a long time ago.”

“How did you know him?”

“We went to school together.”

“In Vegas?”

“No. It was a private school in Washington.”

Now I was really surprised. “I didn’t know my dad lived there.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking suddenly tired. “We had our differences, your father and I, but I always respected him. I was real sorry to hear about his death. I always told him he was too careless.”

“Careless? He was killed by a drunk driver.”

He stared at me for what seemed like a long time. “You have a nice night, Llona.” He turned around and walked back into his office, closing the door behind him.

That’s it? Who says something like that and then walks away? I had half a notion to storm in there and give him a piece of my mind.

“Llona?”

Christian stood at the top of the stairs. There was a sadness in his eyes that I didn’t understand. “You okay?” I asked.

He nodded. “It’s getting late. I should probably take you home.”

I followed him down the stairs. “My car’s back at the high school. Can you drop me off there?”

“Sure.” He opened the front door for me. “And sorry about my dad. Sometimes he talks too much.”

I turned around, surprising Christian, who practically ran into me. Only inches a part, I looked at him. “I don’t care how your dad is. It’s you I want to hang out with, not your father.”

“Are you saying you trust me now?”

I took his hand and smiled. “With my life.”

On the way back to school, I said, “You never told me Jake works for your dad.” I watched his reaction.

“Really? I didn’t know.” He seemed genuinely surprised.

“You really didn’t know?”

“Why would I? He owns so many different companies, he probably employs half of Utah’s population.” He pulled up next to my car, on the passenger side.

“Thanks again. For everything,” I said.

“Of course. I’m always here if you need me.”

I nodded and slid out of the car. Hopefully I wouldn’t need him anytime soon. I waved good-bye and then rounded the back of his car toward my own.

I stopped suddenly.

A cool autumn breeze blew through the loose knit of my sweater; its breath gave me pause. Not because it chilled me, but because it was laced with an odd smell. The odor reminded me of a leaky, rusty pipe in an old basement.

Instinctively, I glanced down. My tail pipe looked normal, but what was sprayed beneath it wasn’t. Someone must have broken a bottle of Merlot, I thought. My foot partially rested on the crimson splatter. As I moved forward, my foot sticking slightly, I came in view of the carnage scattered along side my car.

I didn’t immediately process what I saw, or didn’t want to, and instead found myself staring into the night sky. The dull stars seemed to be swimming in a sea of black. Lost. Disoriented. I stepped back and took a deep breath.

Convinced I’d imagined the grisly scene, I lowered my eyes. The side of my car was no longer white—it was red. Shattered glass lay scattered on the pavement, stuck in the same scarlet fluid. But this wasn’t what made me collapse to the ground, darkness overtaking my mind. It was the mass of blonde hair and bloodied flesh clinging to the broken glass poking through my driver’s side window.

W
HEN MY EYES OPENED, CHRISTIAN WAS STARING DOWN AT
me. Behind him stood Officer Pieut.

“Llona. Llona! Can you hear me?” Christian said.

I moaned and tried to sit up.

“Lay still,” the officer said. “Help is on the way.”

“No. I’m fine. I just want to go home.” I stood up, but my legs gave out when I saw the blood again. Christian caught me.

“Why don’t you take her home?” Officer Pieut said. “We can get her statement later.”

“Thanks, Officer.” Christian kept his arm around my waist as he guided me to his car. “It’s okay. I’ll get you out of here.”

I let him help me into the passenger seat. I even allowed him to buckle my seatbelt. All I wanted to do was pretend I was dreaming. Any minute I’d wake up. The blood, the torn scalp never existed. Death wasn’t following me. But when I opened my eyes, I couldn’t fool myself.

We were almost to my house before I finally spoke. “What happened?”

Christian took hold of my hand. “There was another murder.”

“But there wasn’t a body.”

“The police found it across town. It appears the murderer attacked a woman in the school parking lot and then dumped her body at the park.”

“Did we know her?”

He squeezed my hand. “No. It was the mom of a kid from another school. The team we were playing against.”

I turned to him, my heart suddenly racing. “Was she the mom of one of the kids who attacked me?”

“Why would you think that?”

I shook my head, unable to answer, but my stomach replied, twisting and turning in knots.

“I told the police what happened,” Christian said. “I’m sure we’ll find out later who it was.”

I leaned back in the seat, feeling even more sick. “Why my car?”

Christian pulled into the driveway and shut off the car. He turned to me. “You need to know that this had nothing to do with you. It was just a coincidence, nothing more.”

“And the shoe?”

His eyes met mine. “There’s nothing to worry about. I promise. You trust me, right?”

I nodded.

“Good. Let’s go inside and get you to bed. I’ll explain everything to your uncle.”

I nodded again. It was nice having someone else take control for once. I let my mind shut down. Christian did the rest.

I slept in the next morning. When I stretched my arms they felt better, stronger. But my mind felt like it had been battered by horror films all night.

Jake accosted me the moment I stepped out of my room. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

He hugged me. “I was worried about you.”

I shrugged and walked into the kitchen. “So what happened after I went to bed last night?” I asked, pulling a mug out of the cupboard.

Jake took it from my hand and poured orange juice into it. “Christian stayed for awhile, filling me in. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

I shrugged again and turned on the oven. German pancakes sounded really good right now. “What should we do about my car?” I asked, taking out eggs and milk from the fridge.

Jake pushed me aside and began to crack the eggs.

“Just two,” I said.

“The police will have your car for awhile. They said we’d get it back in a couple of weeks. Are you going to be okay with that?”

“Totally.” I’d be happy if I never saw the thing again. I measured a cup of flour, but Jake took it from me. “Would you stop already?” I said. “I’m fine!”

“I’m sure you are. How much milk?”

I gave in and just let him do it. “One cup.”

Jake stirred for a minute. “The police stopped by this morning.”

“They did?”

“Yeah. They want your statement. I told them you’d go by the station later today.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked.

“No. I can do it.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

I let out a long sigh. “I think so. No. But I will be.”

“I’m here for you. If you ever need to talk.”

“I know. Thanks.”

“Oh, I almost forgot. Christian called and asked if he could come over tonight. I told him it was fine,” Jake said.

“Okay. Thanks.”

After we finished eating, I said, “I met Mr. Knight.”

“You did? Where?” Jake asked.

“I was at Christian’s house last night. How come you never told me you work for his dad?”

“I didn’t think it mattered. What were you doing there?”

“Washing off paint. I was only there for a little while.” Before he could question me further, I asked, “How come I never knew my dad went to a private school?”

Jake stiffened. “Who told you that?”

“Mr. Knight.”

Jake waited a moment before he answered. “Yeah. He went to one for a little while. It’s where he met your mother.”

“I thought he met my mother in Vegas.”

Jake looked sideways at me. “Yeah, sort of.”