The Puzzle (33 page)

“Wow! How touching!” I was fed up with his constant slick discourse. “Sorry, it doesn’t wash. You’ll have to come up with more inspired and insightful dialogue than that!”

But I quickly realized by his expression that defiance was a miscalculation on my part, as his eyes slowly darkened. He glared at me, unblinking. Panic kicked in, and my breath began to keep pace with a clock ticking rapidly somewhere nearby.

“I had to get closer to you,” he explained, “…for you to…” His hand slowly stroked the arm of his chair. “…Trust me.”

I was suddenly anxious to get away. “But I didn’t need excuses, just answers and not you’re unimaginative ones either. Tell me, Clay. What happened to the truth?” As I spoke, I was already looking for an out.

He was cautiously watching my every move. “I didn’t think you were ready for it. That’s why I waited so long. You needed to slowly have things unravel, so you could, piece by piece, digest how everything and everyone intermingled. Even you have to admit this whole web of deception and truth was steeped in hearsay, and yes, long buried secrets.”

I couldn’t stop myself. “You knew everything,” I accused angrily, “even before Stephen’s accident, didn’t you?”

“…Yes,” he said, shifting ever so slightly. “I had to keep a close eye on you….”

I had to think of something, anything to get away from him. I cut him off. “You have the laptop,” I charged, fast-talking to distract him. I had to make a move before it turned deadly.

“Yes, I have it,” he admitted. His gaze followed mine. “Don’t get any crazy ideas, Sam. I’m not finished with you yet. I have to make you understand that….”

I bolted for the door. He was toast. I had won trophies for track in college.

He made a reach for me, swearing as I slammed the door behind me. I heard him crash into it before he could stop himself. I jumped into my car, but I had carelessly left my keys on the chair. He was rounding the front walk as I leapt out and started racing toward the woods.

He grabbed me from behind, knocking me to the ground. “Going somewhere?” he asked, pleased at having caught me before I vanished from the lit area of his stone walkway.

I fought, kicking and punching, as he tried to pin me down. My self-defense and survival training kicked in and I kneed him between the legs. He moaned, released me, and fell away.

“Oh yeah?” I replied, angrily. “Just watch me.” I struggled to my feet and started running, quickly disappearing into the shadows. I ran hard and fast, but knew it was just a matter of time before he would be up and running right behind me.

Tripping, I landed roughly and out of breath, spitting debris from my mouth. I quickly forced myself upright and kept running. Branches stung as I frantically swatted them out of the way, racing passed dense sharp thickets and trees in the dark.

Please don’t let him catch me.

Finally the moonlit road appeared and I was free from the deep recesses of the woods. I crouched
down,
head tucked low, and leaned into my next move, breathing hard and sucking air, as my sweat-drenched clothes clung to me.

Instinctively, I knew I had to keep moving, but as I thought of alternative routes, reality slithered up my spine. What would he do if he caught me? No! I couldn’t, wouldn’t let him.

My pulse racing, I set off again, my eyes darting left to right, while my feet pounded the rural road, scattering gravel as I crossed it. On impulse, I decided to stick to the woods for cover and continued on, straining harder while trying to gain some distance from him as I scrambled up the steep incline.

Don’t turn to look back. Don’t turn…

Blood pounded my temples while my thoughts screamed.

Run. Run. Don’t stop.

No, I didn’t want to think of the consequences if he caught up to me. What a fool! I had trusted him. If I wasn’t so frightened, I might have laughed, mocked my stupidity as tears stung, threatening to blur my vision. I swiped at them, not missing a beat, and kept running. The drumming in my head felt deafening as I tried to stay focused.

All of a sudden, razor-sharp spasms from a cramp shot down my leg, immobilizing me. I quickly dove for cover behind some bushes; acutely aware he was still out there. Forced to stop and rest, I fought to catch my breath, wincing in crippling agony. I quickly massaged my leg.

How had I gotten caught up in all of this?

I sat on the ground thoroughly exhausted, suddenly drained, and against my better judgment, gave in to my physical and emotional pain. I leaned back and closed my eyes. Maybe, I had gotten away from him. …Was it a few minutes? …Several?

Suddenly, I was acutely aware of his physical presence. I struggled to my feet and tried running once again, but didn’t get very far. I was roughly tackled from behind, as Clay quickly grabbed my ankle, slamming me to the ground with a thud.

“
Ohhhhh
!” I screamed.

“Not so fast, young lady,” Clay ordered, trying to hold me. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

I blindly scratched at the dirt; latching onto the first thing I could lay my hands on. I swung and heard the rock connect, as he howled in agony, releasing his grip on me. That was all I needed. I shoved off forcefully, and raced up the hill toward my house. I figured I had about five hundred yards left, and like a beacon, the timer lights were already showing the way.

Narrowing my dwindling lead, he laughed. “You can’t win. I ran track too.”

How did he know everything about me?

Was he the one stalking me from the beginning? Had he sent those notes, made the phone calls during the storm, and then rescued me to gain my confidence? Had he chased me through the woods to scare me off my pursuit of Stephen’s killer, and then rescued me yet again to put any doubt out of my mind? What about my car crash?

My mind shut down as I rounded the corner of my house. All further speculation fell to the wayside, as my sole objective was to race inside to call for help. I ripped open my door and turned to slam the dead bolt in place, but wasn’t fast enough. Clay burst through. I quickly jumped back before he could grab me and headed toward the stairs. I bounded up, two at a clip. I would lock my door and use the phone there.

Clay was right on my heels as I reached the top. I swung into my room, shoving the door with brute force, but he ripped it from my grasp.

“Give it up, Sam. You have nowhere else to run,” he ordered, as blood trickled down his gashed forehead.

Panting and out of breath, I frantically searched for what I might use as a weapon. I was not going down without a fight. I saw Stephen’s picture in its heavy frame and grabbed it, throwing as rock-hard as I could, aiming directly for Clay’s head.

He ducked and it hit the wall instead. Glass and wood splintered everywhere as the pieces fell to the floor. I froze in place, as did Clay, as both of us looked down between us.

Among the remnants of the picture and frame was an envelope. I reached down to grab it, flipping it over and saw my name written on the front in Stephen’s handwriting.

The moment was surreal. I had the key, the answers, all along and didn’t even know it. I collapsed to the floor in a heap, sucker-punched by what was finally mine.

Chapter 70

Regrets, Remorse, Remembering

Clay looked like the result of a mugging gone terribly wrong. I glanced down at myself, also covered in debris and smudged with dirt and sweat. We were panting heavily, but said nothing. Both of us had suddenly run out of steam. Tears spilled from my eyes. I swiped at them.

“It must all be here,” I whispered.

“So that was where he hid it,” said Clay, standing over me. “Stephen reassured me that he gave it to you, hiding it somewhere safe, but abruptly hung up without telling me where.”

I looked up. “He confided in you?” I was stunned by this admission. “When was this?”

Catching his breath, Clay tore his attention away from the envelope to look at me. “Before he left town, Stephen expressed concern over what he had found. After his death, I immediately started working with investigators undercover, trying to find out who tampered with his brakes.”

Clay shook his head sadly. “Stephen said he was deeply disturbed by his discovery. The next thing I knew, he was dead. I was already investigating him for hacking, but then was asked by the authorities to probe further, without raising suspicion from the locals. The farm and bookstore inheritance from my aunt had already fallen in my lap, making me a good candidate for surveillance and was the perfect excuse for me living here full time. That’s what I tried explaining to you, earlier this evening.”

I looked down as the envelope slipped from my fingers, and then looked back up at Clay.

“I’m reluctant to read it and don’t know if I can manage this alone. Clay, I was wrong about you, and apologize for my suspicions. Would you please stay and help me with this?”

“It would be my pleasure,” he said, obviously relieved it was finally over.

I stared at him, not knowing whether to cry or smile. “ You look like hell.”

He winced, as he lightly touched his bloody forehead. “Thanks. By the way, so do you.”

I cringed. “Don’t tell me, I did all that damage?” I asked, sheepishly.

“You sure did. You’ve got quite a swing, young lady,” he said with admiration.

“I’m sorry. I totally freaked out. All kinds of crazy thoughts were racing through my mind, and I went off the deep end.”

“I admit you did not look that dangerous when you first arrived at my door. Maybe, a little ticked off, but the rest? I never expected that reaction! Talk about losing control!” Clay bent down beside me. “You know what I think we should do, Sam?”

My eyes locked onto his. “What?” I asked cautiously, still somewhat emotionally dazed.

“First, I think you should wash up and change, while I do damage control on my forehead in your guest bathroom. Then we’ll walk back to my place with your flashlight. Remember, our cars are both there. I’ll wash up, start dinner, and then light a fire, while you set the table. We’ll open up some wine. Then, you might be ready to read what’s in that envelope. I think
,
you should mentally digest some of this before you look at it.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I answered, relieved by the sheer simplicity of it.

He helped me up to my feet. I took a few steps toward my bathroom, but stopped in mid-stride, walked back and bent down to retrieve the envelope from the floor. I waved it in the air between us.

“As a precaution, I think I’ll take this to the bathroom with me just to make sure it doesn’t get misplaced.”

As he walked out, Clay moaned, “After all this, and she still doesn’t trust me.”

Chapter 71

May I Have The Envelope, Please?

We sat at Clay’s table, bathed in candlelight, sipping the last of our wine. I had to admit; we both cleaned up pretty good. Looking at the two of us, you would never have known that just hours before we were on opposite sides in physical combat. Well, there were a few scratches and bandages involved, and maybe some bruises, but other than that, we were mellowed out after enjoying a fine dinner and dessert.

Clay set his glass down, leaned forward, and rested his elbows on the table. “You ready?”

I sat upright, confidently.
I could do this
. “I guess I can’t avoid it indefinitely.”

“Good. I’m glad you didn’t get cold feet. Of course, the wine might have helped too.”

I knew he was trying to keep the atmosphere light, but my heart was heavy with worry and fear. What could Stephen have discovered? What was so awful and upsetting
that made him leave
everyone behind; including me? My hands were trembling in my lap, so I clasped them together tightly to try and calm my nerves. I sighed, finally resolved to face the inevitable.

“Go ahead, read.”

“You sure, you don’t want to read this to yourself, first?” Clay offered, softly.

“No. To tell you the truth, I don’t think I could hold the paper steady enough to read it.”

He tore it open, visually scanning the note. His hands began to tremble. His eyes darted to me and then back to the letter. “Even I’m shocked.” Then he slowly began to read it aloud.

Samantha,

By the time you read this, I will be long gone. I’m truly sorry, but I just couldn’t see any other option. I will keep this short and precise. I never had a way with words the way you did. Numbers were always my strong suit. I had a passion for them like you had for your stories. This obsession that consumed me surpassed everything, including you. It was all so pointless though because I didn’t realize my fate was already sealed.