Killing Ruby Rose (24 page)

CHAPTER 26

The sound of the garage door cut through my thoughts. Mom was finally home. I shook off the memory of Violet’s tentacles touching me, reassuring myself that my scalding shower had washed away all his filth. Man, my loofah was getting a lot of use lately.

I ran downstairs to meet her. I had to know what was going on with Liam.

“Hey, Mom,” I said softly, trying not to scare her. It was well after 11:00 p.m., and most of the lights were off.

“Ruby!” She jumped like a skittish cat. “What are you trying to do, kill me?”

Was that a Freudian slip?

“Why are you home so late?” I asked, going for a gentle approach. “I’ve been waiting to talk to you.”

“Yeah, well it’s going to have to wait,” she said curtly as she scrambled to pick up the files she’d dropped.

“What’s wrong with you?” I asked, sensing something in her frantic movements.

She brushed past me and started hiking the stairs.

“Are you just going to ignore me forever?” I called after her. “You know, it was only a week ago that
you
asked
me
to meet at Dr. Teresa’s to talk. Did you suddenly forget what you had to say?”

“Rue, it’s almost midnight. It’s been a long day, and I’m tired.” She stopped and took off her heels—like that would give her more getaway speed.

“You told me you’d help him,” I said, not even close to giving up. “You promised.”

She turned and looked down at me.

“He’s been in there forever. Why haven’t you gotten him out?”

“It’s more complicated than I realized at first. Do you know how it would look if I pulled strings to get my daughter’s high school
fling
out of jail after he killed a veteran police officer?”

Whoa. I could not have heard that “he killed” part right.

“He didn’t do it. I told you that. I was there!” I stalked up the stairs after her. “If you’d let me talk to the police, I would tell them that! They have no right to detain him. They have no evidence, no motive. He should have been released by now.”

“Ruby, honestly, just stop. You have no idea what you are talking about. His bail was set too high, and his mom can’t afford it. She’s a bartender,” she said condescendingly. My anger flared and the springs in my muscles tightened up, waiting for the release.

“What bail—what are you talking about?” I asked, staring her down.

“Arraignment was several days ago. The judge set bail at a million dollars.” She turned to go, but I grabbed her wrist. This was escalating too fast.

“A million dollars? That’s ridiculous. Why didn’t you tell me?” I narrowed my eyes at her, knowing exactly why she hadn’t told me. She saw this fight coming, and that’s why she’d been avoiding me. I wanted to slap myself for believing in her and not finding out about Liam’s situation myself. “Why haven’t you told me anything? I trusted you, and yet you’re the one allowing the charges to be brought!”

She pulled her wrist away. “My hands are tied. I can’t go easy on him because you have a crush on him, Ruby. He had Martinez’s blood on his hands—”

“So did I. I told you that Martinez had been shot. We
both
had blood on our hands because we were trying to save Martinez’s life. And even so, that’s not enough evidence for an arrest.”

“I’m afraid it is,” she said, her tone hot with impatience. “It may be circumstantial, but combined with other factors, it’s evidence nonetheless. The boy has a record, Ruby. He almost killed someone before.”

“What? He was only protecting his little brothers and mother from his
drunk
dad,” I argued. “And how is that relevant?”

“Protecting yourself would be calling the police, not taking a baseball bat and putting your own father in a coma for seven days.”

“You don’t know all the facts,” I said, a little thrown by the baseball-bat thing. Liam hadn’t mentioned that detail, and I flinched at the image of him beating his father.

“Neither do you,” she said flatly. “No matter what his father did, he didn’t deserve to be nearly beaten to death. Contrary to what you might currently believe, violence is
not
the answer. The boy is a danger to society.”

“I should’ve known you would pick sides with the abusive parent,” I sputtered. “You
know
Liam didn’t do this.”

“That’s not true. He won’t even talk to me. He gave his statement to the police and now he is relying on his two-bit public defender,” she said, rubbing her eyes and smudging her makeup even more. “The whole thing
…
it just doesn’t look good.”

“It doesn’t look good?” I repeated. Of course, I should’ve seen this coming. “
Looks
have always been more important to you than the
truth
, Miss Botox California. Miss Sham Marriage, Miss Closet Alcoholic. I wonder how it would
look
if I decided to go see my paparazzo friend Sammy and gave him an exclusive interview on the
real
life of Jane Rose. Or call up our Bill Brandon and give him—”

“I’m going to bed,” she cut me off, pinching her eyes shut and blowing out a dramatic breath of exhaustion. She was bluffing, and I was calling.

“Drop the charges, Jane, or I’ll drop a bomb on your campaign you’ll never recover from. Bill Brandon will have a whole new set of names to call you,” I said, knowing I’d just crossed the line. But asking nicely wasn’t working. Liam’s life was on the line. “There is no evidence that can’t be explained away. He’s innocent, and you know it. I won’t let you use him as a scapegoat.”

She glared at me, and I almost lost my nerve, but instead of succumbing to her intimidation, I turned it up. “I will not be ignored by you anymore. I will not be neglected and abused because of your career. I will not let you scoff at what I have with Liam. It’s not a
fling
or a
crush
. He’s been there for me in a way you never have.” It was all true, but instead of feeling relieved for finally communicating what Liam meant to me, I felt awful for the mean way it came out.

“I don’t respond well to threats, young lady,” she said. “Not from the criminals off the street, and not from the criminals in my own home.”

I flinched, and for a second I thought she did, too. Her words stung worse than a slap to the face. Yes, I’d trailed the men I killed, I’d withheld information from the police, and I’d even “borrowed” a motorcycle from a neighbor without permission. But every life I took was taken either in self-defense or in the defense of others. None of what I’d done looked good—in fact, much of it looked horrendously stupid in hindsight.

But I thought I’d explained it to her, all very clearly. Yet here she was, calling me a criminal. Mothers aren’t supposed to say things like that. They’re supposed to love unconditionally, aren’t they?

“You would do well to remember that I’m the one who’s kept you out of the courtroom.
I’ve
kept you out of prison.” Her red-wine breath made me back up. “So you don’t care for who I am, I get it. Well, guess what,
honey
—I don’t much care for who you are.” The look of disgust on her face was enough for my soul to scurry back into the hole it had come from. “Or not, at least, what you’ve become.”

She turned her back and closed her double doors on me with deliberate force. Then she locked them. She was scared of me. Maybe even repulsed by me. And, until further notice, she was done with me.

I was officially alone in the world. Not that I didn’t already feel it, but now I knew it. I had Alana again, but for now, the less contact I had with her the better.

I bit my lip trying to fight the sting of my tears. In the darkness, I felt the pain, the rejection, and the guilt roll down my cheeks. Maybe if I hadn’t followed my Filthy Five in the first place, none of this would have happened and she’d still love me.

Never in my whole life had she so deliberately rejected me. Through all my failures to live up to her expectations, through all our differences of opinion, and even through the death of my dad, I had never seen her so cold.

If Silver was trying to demolish me, mission accomplished.

Everything I’d ever valued was gone.

I tried not to imagine my mom’s gloating face as they took me away forever. She’d be happy to be rid of me, and my inheritance would only be a bonus. She’d get all five million dollars of life insurance funds held in trust for me.

Wait, the money
!
Why hadn’t I thought of this before? I wiped salty tears from my cheeks.

Liam needed a million dollars, and I had it. Maybe I could call the estate-planning attorney and get the money wired by noon—Liam could be here by nightfall. The thought of his arms around me and the warmth of his breath on my neck made me lightheaded. Like a balloon expanding with air, I allowed myself to fill up with hope.

Unfortunately, my thin piece of ruby-colored rubber popped when I remembered who the trustee was: Wicked Witch of the West Coast Jane Rose. She controlled my trust fund, and there was no way I’d be getting my hands on any of it. At least not until I was twenty-one. And even then, it had been explained to me that I would only receive one-third increments—presumably to prevent my spending it all on shoes in one year. Which, to be honest, was a bigger possibility than I cared to admit.

I gave my pillow a pile driver to the gut and threw it across the room. Not knowing what else to do with myself, I grabbed the remote. Part of me wanted to throw it like a Chinese star at the flat screen, but instead I pressed power. My TV had never done anything to me.

The only thing on was
Real Housewives of Orange County
, and—oh yeah, the late-night reruns of the talking heads speculating on the sanity of Ruby Rose. How would I ever get a fair trial with these bottle blondes spouting off about “mounting evidence yet to be released?” Not that I didn’t like free speech—or getting a few highlights now and then—but please, these girls didn’t know the difference between the day spa and a defamation charge. I doubted either of them would have called me a “disturbed and traumatized child” to my face. But it was cool to say it in front of the entire free world.

I listened to them hypothesize how Liam and I were like a teen version of Bonnie and Clyde. That perhaps the motive behind Martinez’s murder was Liam protecting me from being investigated. That young love sparked his intent to kill.

Did these women smoke crack before going on air? How much more outrageous could they get?

The tolling of the grandfather clock downstairs brought me back to cold reality. It was 12:15 a.m., and I was no closer to sleeping. No closer to finding any answers that could save me from this nightmare called my life. I turned off the TV and sat there brooding until around 1:00, finally falling asleep in Gladys, my trusty shoe closet and most loyal friend.

CHAPTER 27

I woke up with a start. Gasping for air, I rolled over wondering who’d taken my pillow and why my comforter was tangled around me. It was 4:00 a.m.

“Oh jeez.” I sat up to get my bearings. Light trickled in from my bathroom across the way. “No rest for the wicked.”

Sore didn’t cover the way my back felt. Even my mind felt stiff. Dreams of blonde-headed zombies chasing me with pitchforks hadn’t been exactly restful. I looked around Gladys’s dark walls for some comfort, but for perhaps the first time in my life, my shoes had none to give. They all just sat there, listless and inanimate. I must have hit rock bottom if I felt alone even among my shoes.

I finally scraped myself off the floor and headed to the kitchen for something to eat. As I hobbled down the stairs, I noticed my mom’s doors were open. Maybe she couldn’t sleep, either.

I perked up my ears for signs of her presence, but all I heard was the howling wind seeping in from outside. No TV coming from her room, no dishes clinking in the kitchen, no tapping of the keyboard in her office.

I couldn’t help myself. I mounted the stairs again and peeked into her room. It would be so like her to lure me in there just to punish me for it. Maybe
she
was the mastermind after all. Or had employed Silver to make me into the assassin she couldn’t be. If she couldn’t put those killers away, she would have her psychopath child do it for her.

Now
my
speculation was getting out of control.

“Mom?” I called out. I hadn’t been in her room for months. “Are you in here?”

The wind whistled back like it was trying to tell me something. The hair on my arms stood on end.

Her bed was unmade; the light in her walk-in closet was on.
Curious.

Her briefcase and car keys were on the dresser.
Suspicious.

I rounded the corner into the hallway leading to her bathroom but was stopped by papers scattered all over the floor.
Straight-up alarming.

“Mom!” I called out again, this time with a tremor of panic. To be sure, I doubled back into her room to look under the crumpled bedcover, in the closet, and even on her balcony.

I ran downstairs and then back up, checking each room to make sure she wasn’t hiding somewhere.

She wasn’t here.

Silver had gotten her. I was sure of it. Somehow, he’d slipped in past security and taken her. Despite the anger I’d felt toward her last night, all I felt now was sick. I went back to her bed and put my head in my hands. She was my mom, and I still loved her. I needed her, even if she’d never need me back. She was all I had left.

Blood. Why could I smell it all of a sudden? I sniffed the air like a dog. The metallic scent was definitely coming from the bathroom. I’d followed the coppery smell over the trail of papers and into the excessively large master bathroom suite when the wind got kicked right out of me. My mom’s sink was full of bloodstained water and more papers. The drain was actually blocked, holding it all there for me. I pulled out some of the papers and let them drip on the floor.

Red streaks covered the countertop and mirror. Mom must have resisted. I was horrified by my reflection—it looked like
I
was covered in blood. Like some magic mirror had finally revealed the real me.

Red Ruby Rose, stained in blood.

More papers were strewn across the drawers and shelves, all of them soaked in watery blood. I put them together on the bath mat to figure out what they could be. Knowing Silver, I had to assume they had meaning.

It was a pleading, and the caption read “In the Matter of the Custody of the Minor Child Hailey Bracken.” It was a Notice of Hearing on a Petition to Terminate Parental Rights. I dropped to my knees, desperate for more information. I found pieces of the Petition with my mom’s signature, then another signature on a paper titled “Affidavit of Guardian Ad Litem.” She hadn’t had physical custody of the child but had closely monitored the girl’s care, nutrition, and well-being. That much I got.

Through the scattered and blood-soaked puzzle pieces, a story started to unfold. Fifteen years ago, my mom was appointed temporary Guardian Ad Litem of a baby. The baby’s mom was on drugs, the baby had been neglected, and my mom terminated the bio mom’s rights. No mention of any dad. All I could find was “Abandonment by biological father, name unknown.”

During my mom’s Family Court days, she must have been appointed Guardian Ad Litem for dozens of children. Did this have something to do with Silver? Was he the one who’d abandoned his child? Was my original theory correct, and he was paying my mom back by slowly taking away everything she had? Did he intend to destroy her by destroying me, too?

Suddenly, her phone rang, the high-pitched ringtone frazzling what was left of my nerves. I followed the sound back to the bed and picked up her cell. Unknown number.

“Hello?” My voice cracked.

“Hello, Ruby,” a male voice said. It sent shivers down my spine.

“What do you want?” I demanded.

“Do you remember the last day you saw your father?” he said in a deep Batman-type whisper.

Of course I remembered. I remembered it every day. “Why? What are you planning to do to my mother?”

“Do you remember?” he repeated.

“Yes! OK, I remember.” I tried to remain calm. “Listen, whatever she did to you and your family, she’s sorry.” It wasn’t working. I was losing control. “
We’re
sorry—”

“Then remember last night, because unless you get here fast enough to save your mother, it will be
her
last night.”

I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

“Just so you know, Mr. Violet is also waiting for you.”

My heart sank. He must’ve taken Violet right after I left. Or maybe Silver had been there when I visited earlier.

“We are both waiting for you,” he said carefully. “I know I don’t need to tell you this, but if you call the police, you might as well call the morgue, because she will already be dead. We’re going to finish this just as it began—on Grissom Island. The place your father tried to bury the truth. More detailed instructions will be sent to your phone. Good-bye, Ruby.”

I held my mom’s phone long after the line went dead.

I had no idea what kind of delusional truth Silver was referring to, but a sharp reality lodged itself inside of me: This man had killed my father. I was sure of it now. My dad was murdered. Assassinated. By the same man who’d officially destroyed my life.

I’d believed knowing the truth would finally set me free. Instead, it crushed me. And hardened me. I vowed to make Silver pay.

If there was one way I could honor my father, it was to remember what he’d taught me. I couldn’t react emotionally. I had to be logical and strategic.

Silver had said he’d know if I called the police, so either he had a scanner or a rat on the inside who would tip him off. In any case, he couldn’t expect me to go in there alone. I longed for Liam. He was smart. He saw things I didn’t. I needed him, and my own mom had made sure I couldn’t have him.

I checked the call history on Mom’s phone. One name stood out among all the others: Mark Mathews—the man who let my dad die and then took his place as SWAT Sergeant. Why was my mom talking to my dad’s old best friend at 11:25 p.m.? And again at 11:52? Plus several missed calls through the night?

Was she sleeping with him, just like she had with Martinez? Or could it be they were working together on catching the man behind all this madness? Or both? My mom was a lot of things, but she wasn’t stupid. She’d probably known from the night I killed LeMarq that there was someone manipulating me. That the same man who killed her husband was following me, luring me, torturing me. And she’d never said a word.

She’d betrayed me so deeply for so long. Lied to me, hidden things from me, imprisoned Liam—when none of it was even my fault. It was hers. This madman was tormenting me for
her
crimes.
Her
secrets. She’d destroyed his family, and now he was destroying hers, and mine. And also destroying Liam’s to spite me.

Yet, she was my mother, and I wouldn’t do to her what she had done to me. I wouldn’t abandon her—I had to save her. I stared at the phone in my hand, weighing my options.

Go in alone, like he said.

Call 911 for help.

Trust Mathews—my dad’s best friend, my mom’s ally, the man who used to be like a second father to me but still refused to speak to me. Even after he came to the hospital after the fire.

Maybe all three. I would do whatever it took to bring Silver to justice.

I touched the screen over Mathews’s name and waited for the ring.

“Jane, why haven’t you been answering? I’ve been calling—”

“It’s Ruby.” I stopped him. “She’s gone. He’s taken her.”

He paused, like he needed some extra time to process my voice.

“
Ruby
? What happened? Where are you?”

“I’m at home—in her room,” I said. “There’s blood, and papers. A man called and said to come to where my father tried to bury the truth. Grissom Island. And if I called the police, she’d be dead.”

I switched hands holding the phone, thinking my hand was sweaty from nerves. But when I looked down at my pants, I realized sweat wasn’t making my hand slippery—it was blood. Her blood.

“Listen, Ruby,” he said calmly, just like my dad used to even when he was stressed. “Don’t move. I’ll send a team to your house to protect you. I’ll take care of this.”

“No, that’s not how it’s going to happen,” I said with surprising authority. “I’m going in. Alone. That’s what he wants. He’s too smart. Too prepared. Anything else and she dies. Wait for my call. Then and only then you can move in.”

“Honey, please don’t—”

“Don’t call me honey!” I snarled into the phone. “I’ve been through too much to be treated like a child. And you know me better than that.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” he said, backtracking. “I just need you to understand who you’re dealing with.”

What? Did he know about Silver, too? Did everyone but me know my mom’s secrets?

“Oh I
understand
who I’m dealing with all right,” I snapped. “I think you and the whole police department are the ones who don’t understand.” I felt a wave of long-building anger rolling in. “It’s been nearly a year since my father was murdered, and you and your SWAT brothers have conveniently forgotten about him and his case. So much for honor, courage, and commitment.” I felt for the Challenge Coin in my pocket. “You let him die, and now you’ve let his memory die by ignoring the justice he deserves. I thought you loved him. I thought you loved me! How could you keep denying me the information I deserve
and
…
sleep with my mom?”

Wow, where did that come from?

“Wait right there, Ruby.” Mathews’s tone shut me down. “First of all, I am not sleeping with your mother. That was Detective Martinez’s mistake, not mine. Second, I did love your father. He was the most courageous man I ever knew.
He
taught me honor and commitment. And I love you, too. It was your mother who forbade me—forbade us all—to speak to you. She told us to stay away. That in your emotional state you couldn’t bear it. I respected her wishes to keep you protected from the darkness surrounding their very public lives and your father’s very public death. I see now that it was a mistake, and I’m sorry. As soon as I get the chance, I’ll give you the whole truth. But not now. So please, just let me take care of this. Do you hear me?”

My mind raced to take it all in: First, Mathews wasn’t the traitor I thought he was—and maybe I could even trust him. Second, there was no end to my mom’s betrayal. And third, I had to get to Grissom Island before Mathews.

“Don’t move in until I call you,” I said before hanging up.

I ran to my bathroom to wash the blood off my hands, and then to Gladys to change into black clothes and shoes. Everything was already laid out—gun, holster, and all—just in case. I didn’t bother with the window this time—just ran downstairs, opened the sliding back door, and bolted for the wall. I didn’t even care if the obviously incompetent guards saw me. As soon as I made it to my neighbor’s Ducati, it wouldn’t matter anymore.