Lethal Affair (48 page)

Her relief was staggering. “You know I
would have come running back before I made it to the road,
right?”

“
I do now.”

She leaned in and gave him a smooch
worthy of steaming the Jeep's windows.

* * * *

CHAPTER TWENTY
FOUR

For the first time in months, Drew woke
up feeling disorientated and, for lack of a better word,
normal.

He'd taken a room in a motel in
Colwood not far from the Langford diner. The internet had provided
a variety of wigs, beards, hats and glasses to hide the jagged red
scars slanting across his features. His vanity would have to wait
until he could seek out a plastic surgeon.

Unrelenting urges had been assaulting
him, an overwhelming need to witness that instant when defiance
turned to blatant fear and shock dissolved into a vacant stare, a
life force draining away.

Suddenly this morning he found himself
perplexed at the mere idea of it, never mind the execution. Logic
and reason had switched back on, neurons firing, his thought
processes reconnecting dots. He self-analyzed; what had happened in
his brain? He'd been happily residing in an emotional void bereft
of what society referred to as moral responsibility, with
compassion and commonality with his fellow man a joke. Until
now.

Was that remorse? For the past few
months his entire existence had centered around poignantly violent
thoughts and they'd filled him with an intense pleasure. Right now
the very idea of performing such an act abhorred him.

Fascinated with what was happening,
his mind raced through a maze of puzzling, contradictory thoughts.
Lying back on his bed, he stared at the water stained ceiling as he
recounted the events since he'd found out that Kylie was pregnant.
He had to ask himself, had he subconsciously wanted to get her
pregnant so she'd provide an anchor that would stabilize him and
prevent him from acting out the enticing fantasies that plagued
him?

This clarity was frightening with its
epiphany-like insight as he now grappled with a new emotion, one
that startled him immensely. Shame. Deep and
treacherous.

A crystal clear realization came to
him. He was the one who should die. It was the only way to stop
this thing inside him.

But even as the shame infused him, his
eyes glimmered and his thoughts wavered and waned. Confusion
stumbled inside his head and the darkness crept in. Running a video
clip in his mind he recalled details of his exploits, vivid and
real. The abject thrill he'd received when letting himself
go.

The shame subsided. Pride rushed back
in to fill the gap.

He had risen above. No dull,
predictable life for him. His was a path of self fulfillment, the
kind most people were either too afraid or too brainwashed to ever
achieve. He'd taken the road less traveled to a whole new level,
and his once again gleefully stricken mind rejoiced.

His eyes rolled back in his head as an
obsessive vision stained his mind red. Kylie Lambert had started
all this. She would pay.

After that there would be more,
because his appetite had become unerringly voracious. Visions of
torture and control infused him with a sublime power that made all
traces of sanity pulsate, then fade into a dim past.

*

Frank Barrymore lay in his hospital bed
and squeezed Kylie's hand reassuringly. “Please stop looking at me
like that,” he told her. “I'll be as good as new, maybe even better
once I heal.”

Lydia came in looking pleased to see
Kylie. She enfolded Kylie in a hug, then picked up her husband's
chart and quickly perused it.

She regarded Kylie's anxious
expression. “Sweetie, it was good of you to come. Frank's doing
fine, no need for worry.”

Kylie shook her head. “You're being
magnanimous. I brought this into your home. Detective Crane had no
right to ask you to be in on the charade. You did the right thing
telling Drew the truth.”

“
He's a lost man, Kylie. His
mind isn't right. Schizophrenia is my guess, or some branch off it.
However, I'm no psychiatrist. Whatever it is, he needs to be
institutionalized.”

“
One with thick bars,” came
Frank's indignant murmur from the bed. He scratched at the gauze
circling his head and covering his newly attached ear. “Damn, this
itches. How long do I need to wear it?”

Lydia patted his hand. “As long as Dr.
Wright says you do.”

Frank rolled his eyes and winked at
Kylie. “You doctors are such control freaks.”

“
Don't listen to him, he's
on some very strong meds right now,” said Lydia, amused.

Watching them, Kylie saw the affection
that passed between them and hoped she and Will would retain it
likewise in the years to come. She knew she was going to do her
best to make that happen. To have someone at your side, loving you
through thick and thin; it was the ultimate prize in life. Will had
proven to her he felt the same way several times
already.

“
I'm glad you're both here,”
said Kylie, “because I have an invitation to give you.” She pulled
out an embossed envelope from her purse and handed it to Lydia.
“It's for the grand opening at the Langford Diner in November. It's
going to be a night to remember. A huge bash with all the bells and
whistles. Can you come?”

She perused the boldly festive
invitation and grinned. “We wouldn't miss it for anything,” she
declared, and with the meds in full force, Frank giddily
agreed.

*

Hallowe'en was coming up fast and every
year Lyle made his special homemade cranberry and hazelnut
chocolates to hand out at the diner's door. This year he put Jolene
and Kylie to work wrapping the sweets in colorful orange and black
foil.

Kylie realized this was yet another
ruse to keep her from brooding. When she wasn't here she was
enlisted to go to the dog park with the pack: Oreo, Dino and
Cookie.

Dino had coaxed Cookie out of her
shell, teaching her how to use the dog door at Lyle's and how to
remain unobtrusive during restaurant hours. At night she cuddled
with him and it wasn't long before she was running and jumping and
barking just like a dog should.

Kylie tossed another wrapped chocolate
into the bowl. “Why hasn't Drew made a move?” she asked
Jolene.

“
Who can guess the inner
workings of his sick mind? Detective Crane released his picture to
the press so his face has been in all the papers. My guess is he's
hiding out 'til things cool down. All the more reason for all of us
to be cautious.”

“
He's sucking the joy out of
my life. I have so much to be happy about but it's all covered with
a layer of dread and anxiety.”

“
Still having
nightmares?”

“
Nightmares, day-mares. My
nerves are so shot, I'm jumping at my own reflection in the mirror.
Lucky for me Will's great at comfort sex, but I'd happily exchange
it for just plain old I want you right now sex.”

“
Walking on eggshells is
never fun. Just keep this in mind: you've got a good soul, and that
puts you worlds above that creep and he knows it.”

“
I'm not so sure. I think he
feels omnipotent.”

“
Yeah, maybe. But if that's
true, then that very thing might be his downfall.”

*

Will pulled off his reading glasses and
rose to shake Al Saunder's hand. He'd been pouring over the
Langford Diner's blueprints to check on an electrical
issue.

“
Hey, Al. Listen, I think I
found the anomaly. Take a look at these breaker switches. Aren't
they supposed to be...”

“
Uh, Will,” Al interrupted,
and for the first time Will took note of the anxiety pinching Al's
features. “Speaking of anomalies, I think I saw him.”

“
Him? Who?”

Then it dawned.

“
Hammond?” Will looked
around wildly. “Is he here?”

“
Not here. In the lineup for
coffee at that joint off the Old Island Highway. The guy in front
of me had on a wig, and when he turned his head I saw the scars you
told me about. It was him, Will. You should tip off that
Detective.”

Will weighed his options. He should
call Crane. Or should he? If Crane's troops swarmed the Colwood
area, Hammond might see them coming and escape before they could
flush him out. Hell, maybe Hammond had only stopped for coffee and
wasn't in the area at all.

“
What happened then?” he ask
Al.

“
He bought a coffee, headed
out and crossed the street. A bus blocked my view and I lost sight
of him. Either he got on the bus or went into another
establishment.”

“
Are there any motels
nearby?”

Al scratched his chin, thinking.
“Yeah. The Starry, Starry Night, and the Sweet Dreams
Inn.”

“
Listen Al, I need you to
take care of this electrical problem asap, okay?” He shoved the
blueprints into Al's arms and strode off.

“
Wait!” cried Al. “You're
not gonna do anything stupid, are you?”

Will turned around, walking backward.
“Do I look stupid?” he yelled back, then turned around and
practically ran out the front door.

“
No,” Al mumbled, “but you
sure do look pissed, and that can make a person stupid.”

*

Will sat in his Jeep in the coffee shop
parking lot and realized his vehicle was a dead giveaway in terms
of surveillance. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
Maybe he was being stupid to think he could apprehend Hammond
single-handed.

He'd rushed out of the diner with only
one thought, to end Hammond's reign of terror once and for all. He
and Kylie were getting married - and the thought warmed him for a
moment – as were Jolene and Lyle. A double wedding in early
December, a major event that should have them all floating in the
stratosphere. Instead, they were all pretending this Hammond thing
wasn't hovering over them like a black cloud.

He had a lot on his mind. Wedding
aside, there was the Langford Diner's grand opening, and then they
had to smooth out all the inevitable snags of operating the
restaurant in tandem with the Village Diner. He'd already held
several training sessions for his new staff and felt fairly
confident he'd hired the right people. Okay, so a few were rough
around the edges, but that was par for the course in any
operation.

He was taking on a lot all at once.
Kim had said as much just that morning, suggesting he might be
better off getting married a little further down the road. But that
was one thing he refused to budge on.

Sitting here holding a one-person
debate wasn't going to make Hammond suddenly crawl out of the
woodwork. Since he was here he'd go in and use the washroom, then
get on the phone and call Crane.

Inside, the aromatic smell of coffee
and sugary sweets enticed but Will made a bee-line straight to the
washroom. Standing at the urinal, the door opened and someone came
in. Will glanced over his shoulder and saw a cap with an indistinct
logo and shaggy hair sprouting out front and back. Long, stringy
bangs obscured his face.

Zipping, Will stepped aside to let him
use the single urinal.

And then froze as their eyes met in
the mirror above the sink.

Bristles hid most of his scars, but
Will would never forget those eyes with their manic gleam. Drew
Hammond stared back at him, and for an instant, neither
moved.

A shiny straight razor appeared in
Hammond's hand. He swung it upward, going for the throat. Will
jerked his body backward, bashing his kidneys into the metal
urinal. Pain blossomed, but Will's mind was otherwise
occupied.

“
You stand out like a sore
thumb in that Jeep, Delaney,” Hammond snarled. “Couldn't resist
paying you a little visit 'cuz...”

Will used the tiny window of Hammond's
speech to his advantage and charged, using his full weight to throw
him off balance. He grasped Hammond's wrist and smashed it into the
wall, and heard with satisfaction the razor clatter to the
floor.

Clearly Hammond's sanity was
degenerating. Why else would he risk such a public display of
violence? Was he running on some kind of crazed adrenaline that was
obliterating common sense?

Held in Will's iron grip, Hammond spit
at him, “You think you can take what's mine? You think you can
overpower me? I'm invincible, motherfucker!” He brought up his knee
and rammed it into Will's groin.

Will buckled and actually saw stars,
and for a split second marveled at how that old adage was
true.

Someone came into the washroom, took
in the scenario of Will on his knees and the razor on the floor. He
yelled at full volume, “What's going on here?”

Drew Hammond ran. He shoved past the
man and scrambled through the lineup at the counter and out the
door into the street.

By the time Will had recovered enough
to stand up, Hammond was long gone.