School's Out for Murder (Schooled in Murder Book 2) (17 page)

At the mention of her uncle, tears began to fall silently down Maclaine's cheeks. In jerky movements, she yanked clothes off hangers, which then bounced back, clanging against the clothes rod. She carried the wadded pile of clothes over to the bed and dumped them into the open suitcase. Emily tried to catch her eye, to see some sign of fight left in her, but Maclaine just turned back to the closet without once looking up. She moved as if she was a marionette, and Trent was the evil puppet master controlling the strings. Emily wanted to groan aloud and was sure her desperation showed on her face because when she looked back at Trent, he was giving her a smug smile, as if he could read her thoughts. Emily had no idea what Trent planned to do with her, and she was in no hurry to find out. Hoping to snap Maclaine out of her state of shock, she asked Trent, "So where is Larry?"

Trent gave a short, mirthless laugh in response to her question. "That old sap is over at that nosy neighbor of Susanna's. I saw him at the gas station talking to Ed Johnson, telling him how he was going to see Susanna. Ol' Ed was telling Larry he was a fool, having hurt Janice by his feelings for Susanna. They're both ignorant, washed-up, old prunes."

Emily flashed back to the conversation she had overheard between Superintendent Johnson and Larry. Even though the superintendent was upset about Janice's mission to shut down the school carnival, he must have felt bad for her, knowing his buddy Larry still carried a torch for his high school sweetheart, Susanna Fowler. They
had
all gone to school together, and apparently they had all remained friends. Superintendent Johnson must have meant that Larry was being cuckolded by his feelings for Susanna. She wondered briefly how Greg would treat Tad if he thought Tad had feelings for someone else while he was dating her. She also wondered how Larry and Susanna would proceed now, especially in light of the fire at Susanna's. Even as the thought ran through her head, another piece of the puzzle locked into place. Rounding on Trent, though being careful not to leave her perch on the side of the bed, Emily asked, "You set the fire at Susanna's house, too, didn't you?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Emily saw Maclaine pause in the act of pulling more clothes off of hangers. Trent was too busy laughing—a bone-chilling, mirthless laugh—to notice. "Oh, how cute. You want to play Nancy Drew," he said mockingly to Emily. "I can't tell you how glad I'll be to finally put an end to you sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. But since I plan on getting rid of you anyway, I guess it won't hurt for me to toot my own horn a little." He laughed again, and Emily wondered how any of them could have ever thought, even for a minute, that Trent could leave behind his narcissistic ways. "Naturally I set the fire," he said now, crossing his arms and leaning back on the mantle of the small fireplace across from Maclaine's bed. Emily could see Maclaine's back stiffen and although she hated to see her suffer even more, she hoped Trent's words were breaking through her haze of shock. If she could keep Trent focused on his bragging rights, maybe Maclaine would gather herself enough either to run or to help Emily try to subdue Trent. Emily had decided that was their only hope of escape, no matter how small their chance of success might be. With that goal in mind—and praying she had managed to get a call through to someone, anyone—she asked, "But it wasn't Susanna you were after, was it, Trent?"

Trent clapped his hands as if in applause. "Give this girl a gold star! No, of course I wasn't after Susanna, but if she died in the fire—oh, well." He shrugged. "I'd followed Larry over there, hoping to find a way to get him out of the picture permanently. I saw him go up to her porch. If he tried to escape the house once I'd set the fire, I was just going to knock him out and toss him back in so the fire could finish the job. I'd have done the same to Susanna, too, if needed, of course." Maclaine was definitely listening now. Even as Emily fought her own revulsion at Trent's callous comments, she saw that Maclaine's hands were clenched into tight fists at her side.

Watching Trent's offhand manner as he talked about taking the life of a fellow human being, true terror struck Emily. Not only had he killed Janice McBain to secure her fortune for himself, he'd attempted to kill others as well—with no remorse. He was truly a sociopath. Emily had faced a killer once before, but that woman had been desperate to protect her son. This man—this scum of the earth—had killed once, and had been willing to kill as many times as needed, merely to satisfy his lust for money. This man was now planning to kill
her
to clear the path to his goal.

Maclaine had abandoned all pretense of gathering clothes from her closet. She was staring at Trent, one hand pressed to her mouth as if to hold back the horror. To keep Trent's focus on her, Emily turned to stare out the window on the other side of the bed as she said, "I suppose that's why you attacked Amelia? Since you didn't manage to get rid of Larry, you thought you'd silence Amelia so she could no longer deny having an affair with Larry."

Trent moved to see her face, just as Emily had hoped he would. There was now a small path of space between the closet where Maclaine stood and the bedroom door. Maclaine would now have a better chance of escaping if Emily could work up the nerve to tackle Trent. She dared not risk even a glance in Maclaine's direction for fear Trent would be distracted from his unveiling of all his brilliant plans. Her best hope was to play to his vanity. He was now saying, "That was one of the reasons I attacked Amelia, sure, to shut that big mouth of hers. But really, it was a two birds one stone kind of thing, ya know?"

"Uh, no," Emily said, trying to reign in her sarcasm. "But I assume you meant you wanted to be rid of her?"

"Well, yeah," Trent answered, as if the answer was obvious. "I mean, the Amelia I knew in high school was a total tomboy. This Amelia? She was hot! And a dentist! I figured she'd be rolling in dough, but all she did was work and pump money back into her business. Sure, she was great arm candy and could fix a killer dinner, but, as she continually reminded me, she was a Christian and had no intentions of putting out until marriage, so—"

"So, you started dating me, thinking I'd give you everything Amelia couldn't or wouldn't," Maclaine spat, the disgust evident in her voice.

Trent jerked, surprised to find Maclaine listening to him. It was as if he had forgotten she was even there. "Now Maclaine," he began, recovering quickly, but Maclaine wasn't interested in listening to anything else Trent had to say.

"It must have been quite a disappointment to you, Trent, when I, too, was unwilling to, as you say, put out," she told him.

Emily held her breath, afraid of what Trent would do if Maclaine angered him, but he just gave a low chuckle, and said, "Oh, but dear, you and I will be married soon, anyway, so that won't exactly be an issue now, will it?"

It seemed this insult was the final straw for Maclaine. With a primal scream that seemed ripped from her gut, she made a mad dash for the door. Even though she had caught Trent by surprise, he grabbed a gorgeous antique candlestick off of the fireplace mantle and spun around to follow her. Emily jumped up to tackle Trent, but due to her awkward position on the bed, her right foot was asleep, and she stumbled on her way to the door. Before she could take another step, she watched in horror as Trent raised the candlestick above his head. Emily felt like she was watching a slow-motion sequence as Trent brought the candlestick down on Maclaine's blonde curls before she even made it past the first step. Immediately, Maclaine crumpled to the floor, looking just like Amelia had when Emily and Tad had found her on her office floor.

Trent knelt to check for a pulse, and Emily screamed, "You killed her!"

With barely a glance over his shoulder, Trent said, "No, I didn't. That was just a love tap. Can't have her getting away without me, now can we?" And as if Maclaine weighed no more than a baby, Trent scooped her into his arms and turned back to where Emily clung to the doorjamb for support. She was forced to take a step back as Trent carried Maclaine through the doorway and unceremoniously dumped her on the bed next to the open suitcase. He pointed to a purple velvet chaise lounge at the other end of the room and commanded Emily to sit.

She sank down on the edge of the chaise, trying to shake some feeling back into her foot while the rest of her shook with fear. With Maclaine unconscious, she was on her own, and as she had thought earlier, she didn't stand a chance against Trent's strength and speed. He was currently yanking out drawers from the dresser and emptying them into the suitcase. His actions were rapid and staccato, and Emily began to fear that time was running out. If something didn't happen soon, she would have to assume her call hadn't gone through. If no one had received her call, then she was on her own. And her prospects of survival looked grimmer by the second.

Thinking quickly, Emily decided that her best option was to buy time in hopes that Larry would come home and find them. Appealing to Trent's constant need to brag about himself, Emily asked, "Were you the one who left the note for me in the bumper cars at the school carnival, or was that just a coincidence?"

"No, that was me, too," Trent told her, continuing to empty drawers. "Don't flatter yourself that your students even pay enough attention to you to bother pranking you." Emily sent up a silent prayer for any student who had had the misfortune to have this man as a coach or a teacher. Trent went on, "I'd heard you asking around. Amelia had told me all about your little adventure last fall. That's why I took your phone and left that note. I knew you'd be too curious not to show up and due to the carnival, wouldn't have had time to replace your phone yet."

"So why didn't you just kill me when you had the chance?" Emily asked, although she wasn't sure she really wanted to hear the answer.

"Trust me," Trent said, shooting her a contemptuous look as he shoved another drawer back into place, "I thought about it. But I was afraid it might be too obvious once they found Larry dead. I figured leaving you on top of the Ferris wheel would give you a good enough scare to get you to stop asking questions." He turned to contemplate her, hands on hips. "Guess my plans didn't work out too well there, did they? Larry's still alive, and you're still butting into other people's business." He rubbed his hands together, as if ready to get down to business. "But not for long."

In the silence that followed Trent's pronouncement, the ticking of the pretty little porcelain clock on the mantle sounded to Emily more like a ticking time bomb—a time bomb that was counting down her last minutes on earth. There was nothing left to pack, and on the bed, Maclaine was starting to stir. Clearly, Emily's call had not gone through, and now this was it. Tears filled her eyes as she thought of her parents coming home, happy and relaxed from their cruise, only to learn of her death. And how would Gabby cope knowing that the guy she had once had a crush on had killed her best friend? That is, if Trent was caught.

Emily wiped furiously at her tears, not wanting to give Trent the satisfaction of seeing her cry. But as she thought of not getting to see the twins, Abigail and Phoebe, grow up, the harder it was to sniff back her tears. Watching Trent's face as he surveyed the room one last time to make sure he had everything he wanted, she thought of how he had broken both Amelia and Maclaine's hearts. And that made her think of Tad. Now she wished she hadn't held back in her relationship with him. Instead of trusting him completely with her whole heart, she had held back, lately spending more time being jealous of his friendship with Maclaine than enjoying her time with him. And now she would never get to find out where her and Tad's relationship could have gone. And that, more than anything, gave her a renewed burst of anger.

As Trent slammed the suitcase shut, she said to his back, "You'll never get away with this, you know. Tad and Gabby know the kind of person you were. When both Maclaine and I go missing, they'll put two and two together. And they won't rest until they find you."

Trent was giving Maclaine light slaps to her cheeks, trying to bring her back to consciousness, and he barely spared her a glance. Still, his voice dripped with disdain when he said, "Gabby and Tad? You've got to be kidding me. Neither one of them have changed since high school. Tad was always a pathetic excuse for an athlete, and now he's an ever bigger excuse for a man." Maclaine stirred again and moaned slightly, and Trent turned to prop her up on the pillows before he continued. "And Gabriella Moretti? You think I didn't see what a crush she had on me back in high school? Please. She might have been a looker, but there's no way I'd ever go for such a wholesome, white bread, scrap of a girl. She wasn't going to give me a leg up. But she did give my buddies and me plenty to laugh about, her and her pathetic, unrequited crush."

What happened next would be remembered as a blur to Emily. Trent had barely quit speaking when a bundle of dark curls and fury came streaking across the room. Trent and Emily had barely had a chance to process the fact that there was someone else in the room before that someone swung her gigantic, bottomless purse, that Emily knew from experience carried everything but the kitchen sink, right at Trent's head. Her aim was dead on, and immediately following the hollow thud that sounded when the purse struck his skull, Trent slumped to the floor. Emily stood staring, unable to comprehend the sudden change in circumstances. But Gabby was on top of things. She was already on the floor beside Trent, rummaging through her deadly weapon of a bag. Seeing, but not quite believing, Emily watched as Gabby dug out several zip ties. Looking over her shoulder, Gabby blew a curl out of eye and said, "You gonna help me here, or not?"

As if in a dream, Emily moved forward and helped Gabby secure Trent's wrists and ankles. Sitting back on her own heels, Emily asked Gabby, "How did you know I was here?" and then before Gabby could even answer her, she started to cry, so relieved to see her best friend that she couldn't contain her tears.

Gabby squeezed her in a tight hug and helped Emily to her feet. "I wanted to know if you'd talked to Susanna yet. I kept trying your new cell, but my calls kept going straight to voicemail. I had to run to town for groceries, so I decided to swing by your place on the off chance you might be there. Helen and Richard were out working in one of Helen's flowerbeds, and she told me you had gotten a call from Maclaine and hurried off. I drove by to see if you were here, and when I saw the red truck parked outside, I remembered what you'd told me about that Dinah Moore seeing a red truck near Susanna's that night. At first, I thought it was Larry's. I saw your car, too, so I decided to ring the bell, but when I walked by the truck, I saw a Brentville High School employee parking tag in the window. That's when I knew it was Trent's truck, and I was suspicious as to why he would be here. I had a gut feeling he was up to no good, so I tried the door. It was open, and I heard him talking upstairs. I didn't hear anyone answering him, so I came up as quietly as I could and got to the door just in time to see Maclaine passed out on the bed and you looking terrified on that chaise lounge. Then, when I heard what Trent was saying, I just saw red. I guess I acted before I thought things through.

"And thank God you did," Emily said, grabbing her friend in another hug.

"Now," Gabby said, "you try to wake Maclaine while I call the police."

Emily moved to the bed and saw that Maclaine was slowly waking up. She moaned as Emily eased down on the bed beside her. Rubbing Maclaine's hand, Emily said softly, "Maclaine? Can you hear me?"

Her eyelids fluttered a few times, and then finally she opened her eyes and focused on Emily. The moment recognition dawned, her eyes widened in terror, and she tried to sit up. Emily held her back with a light touch to the shoulder. "Don't try to get up," she told Maclaine. "Trent can't hurt us now. It's okay." Maclaine slumped back against the pillows, her eyes closing in relief. Emily heard Gabby hanging up, and she asked her if she could go get some ice for Maclaine's head.

"Be right back," Gabby told them. "I also told them to send an ambulance." Maclaine's eyes flew open again at that and Emily hurried to explain what had happened. By the time the police arrived, Maclaine was sitting up on the bed, clutching an ice pack to the giant goose egg on her noggin and smiling grimly as Detective Gangly-Arms led a now-awake and seriously ticked-off Trent out of the room in handcuffs.

The paramedics had decided to take Maclaine in for a CT scan, just in case, and they were just loading her up in the ambulance when Larry McBain and Tad both came tearing into the house, both looking wild-eyed. Gabby and Emily led them both to the library where they filled them in on all of the excitement. Once the men had the full story, Larry stood and went to stand at the same window he had been staring out of when Emily and Gabby had been there before. "How can I ever thank you?" he said without turning around. "I couldn't have stood to lose my niece, on top of losing Janice. Although you are all being kind, I know what you all must think of me. But I want you to know, I loved my wife." Here he turned to look at the assembled group, his eyes brimming with tears.

"We know you did," Gabby said in understanding. "Trent is the one to blame here."

Larry nodded grimly. "I never could stand that punk."

"Agreed," Emily said, moving to sit even closer to Tad.

"Where do we go from here?" Larry asked, looking completely bereft.

Gabby stood and moved to the man, looking him in the eye as she said, "First, we go check on Maclaine. Next, we make sure that Trent goes away for a long, long time for the crimes he's committed. And after that, well, we simply take it one day at a time."

"Excellent advice," said Gangly-Arms, joining the group in the library. "Now, if you'll all take turns giving me your statement, we can see about getting Trent Winters put away, as you put it, for a long, long time." He turned to look at Emily, and said, "And why am I not surprised to find you in the middle of things again?"

"Because you're an extremely intelligent man," Emily told him with a straight face.

"And you are an extremely nosy woman," Gangly-Arms countered, but Emily could see he was fighting a smile. It made her like him a little bit more.

"Hear, hear," Tad agreed, and Emily gave him a dirty look. But when she saw how pinched and worried Tad's face still looked, she relented and bowed her head.

Tad pulled her even closer, wrapping his arms around her. "You're going to be the death of me, you know that?" he said, tipping his forehead to rest against hers.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I can't seem to help myself."

"I know," Tad said with a long-suffering sigh. "But the next time you decide to run off and go toe-to-toe with a killer, you think you could let me know first?"

"I can promise to try to do that," Emily told him. "But honestly, that wasn't my intention."

"I know," Tad said. "I could kick myself that I didn't see Trent for what he really was."

"He definitely fooled all of us. Think Amelia will be okay?" Emily asked him.

"Eventually," Tad said. "She has us to lean on."

"I'm so glad to have you by my side," Emily told him, thinking of the heartbreak both Maclaine and Amelia would have to deal with.

"And I'm glad to hear you say that," Tad told her as Gangly-Arms called her into the other room to give her statement. "I'll be waiting right here for you when you're done."

And Emily knew in that moment that her heart was tumbling into a complete surrender to Tad. Surprisingly, the sensation wasn't nearly as scary as she had thought it would be. Of course, that might be because she'd just survived an encounter with a mad man, and falling in love seemed tame in comparison. But whatever the reason, she was grateful, she decided as she moved off to talk with the detective, grateful to have the chance to see where their relationship might lead.