Miss Polly had a Dolly (Emma Frost #2) (24 page)

I couldn't
believe my eyes.
What was he doing here? The most
prominent TV host in the country. It felt like a dream. A surrealistic, messed
up dream.

"Isn't this nice?" he said.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my
house?" Asta said angrily. "You have no right to be here."

"Well, I beg to differ," Patrick said.

He seemed to be enjoying this a little too much,
I thought.

"Don't you know who this is?" I asked.

Asta shook her head.

"He's the host of the TV show
Shooting Stars
. His name is Patrick. Still
doesn't ring a bell?"

"No. I don't watch TV. Besides, I don't
care who he is or if he is the Crown Prince himself. He has no right to invade
my house and neither have you. Now all of you get out before I call the
police."

I looked at her thinking she was truly mad. She
sincerely believed she was the one who needed the help from the police.

"Not so fast," Patrick said. He looked
at Asta and then back at me again. "Now this is perfect, isn't it?"

I didn't understand where he wanted to go with
this. All I could think about was the poor girl in the cage and how to get her
out of there alive. "This girl needs to be taken to the hospital," I
said.

Patrick tilted his head and grinned. "The
Good Samaritan, huh? Well I think it is truly perfect that you two are down
here, even if it would be better with three…well we could always count the
dying girl in the cage, couldn't we? Then it would be almost right. See, I
always wanted to make this like the scene in Lace, you know, Lucinda Lace. That
glorious scene where Elizabeth Lace turns to look at her three possible mothers
and ask them: Which one of you BITCHES is my mother?"

I stared at Patrick feeling even more like it
was all just a strange dream. "What? I asked. "What the heck are you
talking about? This girl is sick and needs medical attention and you're talking
movies?"

Patrick raised a finger to stop me.
"Mini-series. Not a movie. There's a DIFFERENCE, people."

Great. He had lost it, too. Maybe he'd always
been crazy. Maybe he wasn't just acting on TV. Maybe he was as mad as they said.
Asta took a step backwards, then started gasping for air. She stared at Patrick
like he was a ghost.

"What are you talking about, who is your
mother? It makes no sense Patrick," I said then looked at Asta who was
still gasping for air while holding a hand to her chest.

"Well, it's not that I don't know which one
of you is actually my mother, I just thought it would be a cool line to
say," Patrick said.

That was when it finally hit me. "You're
Asta's son?"

Patrick grinned again. Then he giggled like a
schoolgirl. Asta stared at him in disbelief.

"No," she said. "It can't be? How
can it be?"

"Oh my god," I said as the rest of the
puzzle finally came together. "You're Nina? I mean you used to be Nina?
You're a girl?"

"Gotcha!" Patrick said.

"I can't believe it," Asta said. Her
voice was getting thick now. "You've come back? My little girl? Nina?
My…my…Baby doll?"

Patrick's eyes sparkled with fire as he heard
the last words. "Don't call me that! You gave away the right to call me
that ever again when you gave me away to those horrible people."

"Gave you away?" Asta looked confused.
"I don't understand. I didn't give you away. I would never give you
away."

"Yes! Yes, you did. They told me so
themselves. They all told me you didn't want me anymore, that you had sent me
away because you couldn't handle me anymore. And I hate you for doing that. I
loathe you for leaving me with those people."

"I don't understand. Nina you
must—"

"Patrick. I'm Patrick now. Nina is
gone."

Asta moaned, she bent over holding a hand to her
stomach. "I can't… This is too much…I don't…I don't understand. They told
me you had drowned, Nina. The police told me you had walked down to the beach
and walked into the water thinking you could make it to the small island but
then the tides must have taken you. We searched for days for you. I thought you
were dead. I swear."

He shook his head. "I don't believe you.
You destroyed my life." He pointed at her with a shaking finger. His voice
was trembling. "If only you knew what I went through, how I was…how I was
abused. All these men, groping me, touching me in places I didn't even know I
had, telling me I wasn't worth more than this, that my mother had abandoned me
so they could teach me a lesson, teach me how to behave."

Asta held a hand to her chest. I could tell she
was in pain and ran towards her. I managed to grab her just as she fainted.
Patrick stared at her, then at me.

"Help me, Patrick. It looks like a heart
attack. We need to get her and the girl to the hospital."

Patrick felt
confused. He was
staring at the woman and his mother
who was unconscious on the floor not quite knowing what to do next. The woman
knew who he was so he had to kill her, of course. And his mother as well since
that was the entire purpose of coming here in the first place. But somehow it
just didn't seem satisfying enough. His mother wasn't even awake to feel the
pain that he had been looking forward to inflicting upon her for so very long.
It just wasn't right. It wasn't how it was supposed to be.

Patrick moaned and stared at the woman who was
trying to perform CPR on his mother. She knew who he was so maybe he should
just do her and then let the other two die on their own, a natural death. Get
out of here before he was caught. Maybe stab his mother once or twice just to
make sure she was really dead. It wasn't the perfect scenario that he had
wanted, but it was the best he could get right now.

Patrick exhaled. Oh how it annoyed him to not
get it his way. He wouldn't get the same rush out of it now as he was hoping
for. This was supposed to be his big fix, his big moment and now look at this?

"You know I have to kill you, don't
you?" he mumbled, but the woman didn't hear him.

The woman breathed air into his mother's mouth,
then pumped her heart. Patrick walked closer.

It doesn't matter if you bring
her back or not. You're both gonna die.
Patrick
stopped.
That's it
, he thought.
That's the way to do it. Let the woman bring her back
to life and then when they both think it's all good, you kill them both.

Patrick giggled at the thought and walked
closer.

"She's breathing," the woman said with
a sigh of relief.

"Good," Patrick said. He walked closer
to his mother who was coughing and moaning on the floor. The woman beside her
looked at him with big eyes. "But we need to get her to a hospital right
away."

Patrick bit his lip, then he shook his head.
"No," he said. "NO! This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She
was supposed to be mean and evil and I was supposed to make her suffer. Stab
her in the chest, then in the stomach, then look into her eyes as she drew her
last breath," he said and pulled out his butterfly knife. As he did the
small plastic bag with sewing kit and a bowtie fell onto the floor. He bent
down and picked it up.

"Oh my God," the woman said and stared
into his eyes. "You're the bowtie killer." Her eyes were filled with
fear and Patrick finally felt the kick he had been searching for. He leaned
over and started laughing.

"Don't hurt us," the woman pleaded
with shivering voice. "Please."

Patrick knelt next to his darling mother who was
fighting hard to breathe. Then he lifted the knife in the air getting ready to
stab her in the stomach and hopefully crush and lacerate some of her organs.
That was how he always did it. He always tried to not kill them right away. He
liked inflicting pain, letting them suffer for a while before he stabbed them
again, letting them know who was in charge, who was deciding if they should
live or die. He smiled at the thought of finally being able to punish his mother
for what she had done to him. He still didn't believe her little display of
innocence. No, it was all just an act, it had to be. And Patrick knew all about
acting. His mother looked at him and he finally saw the fear he had longed for
in her eyes. It felt better than he had hoped it would.

"Please," she mumbled between coughs.
"Please, don't."

"You sent me to hell, now I'm going to
teach you what I learned there," Patrick said imitating Elizabeth Lace
once again.

As he got ready to stab his mother, he sensed
movement behind him and turned just in time to see the dog jump towards him.
Patrick screamed as the dog bit his arm and the knife clattered to the ground.

He watched as the woman got up and grabbed the
knife from the ground. Now she was standing in front of him with it in her
hand, shaking all over, threatening him while fumbling with her cellphone in
the other hand. She looked completely ridiculous. Patrick clenched his fist and
slammed it into the dog's head. Its eyes rolled back and it began to whimper
before it finally let go of his arm.

Patrick heard the woman give the address over
the phone. He considered for a second overpowering her and killing her right
away, but the dog was getting back on its legs now and it had started growling
at him. Patrick then decided it was time to leave. He sprang for the stairs and
ran through the living room and into the street. In the distance he could hear
sirens as he put the hood over his head and disappeared into the darkness
cursing the woman and the dog, deciding to kill them as soon as he got the
chance, which wouldn't be long given the fact that they were on a small island.
With a little luck the police wouldn't believe her right away. It would at
least take a while before they came for him and by then he would be gone. He
would vanish like he was an expert at doing.

But first he had a show to do. His last and
final show,
le grand finale
.

I was in shock,
completely out
of it when Officer Morten arrived. He
stormed into the basement and saw Josephine and Asta on the floor. The dog
growled a little, but Asta managed to hush him with the little strength she had
left.

"Doctor Williamsen is on his way with the
ambulance," he said.

I told him the entire story, even if it sounded
a little too crazy to be true as the words left my mouth. The ambulance arrived
and took both of them to be flown by helicopter to the mainland, they told us.
I felt so relieved that it was out of my hands and could only hope that they
would both survive. Officer Morten called the police in Esbjerg and told them
to take care of Asta Kristensen and make sure she didn't leave the hospital.

Then he looked at me. "Patrick, you say?
The
Patrick? Well I'll be damned. If I
didn't know you so well, I would say you were nuts, but I can see how it could
make sense."

"So what do we do now?" I asked.

"
We
don't do anything. I will. I'm gonna call the investigators working on this
case, I do believe they're back on the island after questioning Helle. They
told me they would be here for the big show tonight and to make sure the entire
port was heavily guarded."

"The show," I said.

"You think Patrick is there?" Officer
Morten asked.

I shrugged. "That would be kind of stupid,
wouldn't it?"

"You never know with this guy, apparently.
We'll find him wherever he is hiding. He can't run far. But you go home and
stay with your family, you hear me?" he said.

"Loud and clear," I said and didn't
tell him I had actually promised my neighbor to be at the show and watch her
daughter sing. Even if Patrick was stupid enough to go down there, there was no
way he could ever touch me. The place was packed with police and they would be
all over him as soon as he showed his face.

I took my car and drove directly down to the
port. I parked on a street not far from the area where the concert was going to
be held. As I walked towards the entrance I texted Sophia and asked her where I
could find her. I found her in the front, very close to the stage where she was
standing with Jack and her son Christoffer. I elbowed my way through the crowd
and joined them.

"You're late," Sophia said.

"Has it started yet?" I asked.

"No," Sophia said and looked at her
watch. "It was supposed to though, like fifteen minutes ago."

I wondered if they were going to begin without
Patrick or if they'd have to cancel it all if he didn't show up. "Did you
see Maya here anywhere?" I asked and looked into the packed crowd.
"She was supposed to come down here with a friend."

"No," Sophia said. "But I'm sure
she's here somewhere."

"You'd think she would be here somewhere in
the front," I said and looked down the line of people, mostly teenage
girls who were screaming and looking desperately at the stage waiting for the
show to begin. That was when I spotted Maya's friend Annika in the crowd up
front. I looked and looked but didn't see Maya anywhere. Maybe she had gone
with some other friends, I thought. Maybe she had stayed at home? I texted my
dad and received a quick answer that Maya had left the house at five to go to
the show. My heart dropped. I scanned the area around her friend again. There
were several other girls next to her that she was talking to, but none of them
were Maya.

"I have to check something," I said to
Sophia and started elbowing my way towards Maya's friend. "Excuse me. Excuse
me, coming through."

I stared at Annika. "Where is Maya?" I
yelled, trying to outshout the screaming crowd. The girl leaned over and yelled
back:

"She is meeting Patrick. He promised to
take her backstage."

The blood in my veins froze. I stared at the
girl. She was blowing bubbles with her gum. "Are you sure about
that?" I asked, my voice shaking with fear. "A hundred percent. She
didn't even ask him if I could go, too. Way to be a good friend."

As Annika spoke the last words music blared from
the stage and the light was turned on. A horrifying green light bathed the
entire stage and an announcer started yelling.

"Are you ready to rock? Are you ready for
Shooooting
Stars? Ladies and gentlemen,
let's get this party started.
Heeeeere's
Patrick."

The crowd went ballistic and I watched with my
heart in my throat as Patrick entered into the green light that made him look
as diabolic as I knew he was. But to my horror he wasn't alone on stage. He had
his arm around someone's neck.

It was Maya.