Written in Stone (20 page)

Chapter 18

Time is the justice that examines all offenders.

—W
ILLIAM
S
HAKESPEARE

T
he movement Olivia had seen was that of a man’s arm being raised into the air. Then,
a blunt object made contact with the back of her head. The blow was hard enough for
an explosion of white stars to obscure her vision. The pain surged through her entire
body, driving her to her knees.

From what seemed like a great distance, she heard Millay scream. From even farther
away came the sound of the muffled, frenzied barking of a very agitated poodle.

Olivia fought to stay conscious, but her limbs were as heavy as anchors and her head
had filled with a thick fog. She kept her eyes shut, struggling to maintain her balance
and to not keel over like a capsized boat.

She stretched her right hand out, tentatively searching for support, and curled her
fingers around the edge of the window curtain.

That was all she was able to do. The small movement still made her feel sick to her
stomach, so she clung to the coarse fabric, waiting for the pain to abate.

Noises continued to filter through the fuzz in her brain. Two voices sounded in the
air behind her, rising and falling like the swells of a stormy sea. Haviland’s barking
continued and Olivia could detect the furious scratching of her dog’s claws against
a door.

Her first lucid thought was,
Judson must have shut Haviland in the bathroom
.

The clarity didn’t last long, however, and her body sagged even lower until her right
hip was resting on floor. The contact with solid ground helped and the nausea receded.
After a few more seconds, the world began to regain its balance. She no longer experienced
the sensation that the earth was tilting and if she didn’t hold on to the curtain
tightly enough, she’d slide right off the edge.

“You can do whatever you want to me, you sick bastard!” Millay growled without a trace
of fear. “But it’s over. My friend was on the other end of the phone when you came
in and she’s already called the cops. There’s a certain chief of police who’s going
to enjoy kicking your ass all over town.”

Rawlings.
Olivia desperately hoped he was on the way and that Millay wasn’t merely stalling
for time. They needed him, but the only chance of his kicking in the door was if Laurel
had been able to recognize that her friends were in danger. Olivia knew that their
phone connection had been intact when Judson had struck her, but she had no idea what
happened next. Had Millay shouted for Laurel to call 911? Had she yelled that they
were trapped in a hotel room with a murderer?

As much as Olivia loathed having to be rescued, she knew that’s exactly what she needed.
After all, she still couldn’t open her eyes, let alone rush to Millay’s aid.

“Why did you do it?” Millay’s voice rose in a challenge. “Are you in the Klan?”

Judson snorted. “There is no Klan anymore. It’s just me.”

“But why Willis? Why Talley?”

“Why, why, why,” Judson mocked her. “Because the Locklears ruined my life. I vowed
to wipe them off the face of the earth and I’m nearly done. None of you will stop
me from finishing the job. I’ve been planning this weekend for a long time.”

Millay was silent for a moment. Olivia wanted to look at her, but the pain was still
wracking her body and she needed to wait for it to ebb a bit more.

“When did it start? Your hatred for the Locklears?” Millay asked with surprising gentleness.

Judson immediately responded to her tone. “It began at the so-called Battle of Hayes
Pond. When my daddy ran off like the coward he was and left my mama behind. She drove
our car into a ditch and was apparently so grateful to one of the Indians who came
to her aid that she started sleeping with him. Daddy found out and beat her over and
over. Tried to beat the animal out of her. He locked her in the house. He got her
pregnant with me, but once I was born, she snuck out more and more. She only wanted
him
. I didn’t matter to her. Looked too much like Daddy for her tastes.”

“Who was he?” Millay whispered. “Her lover?”

“Lover?” Judson scoffed. “A highbrow word for the loser she spread her legs for. The
whore.”

Olivia could sense Millay’s wheels turning. “If he was a Locklear, then he must have
been Talley’s grandfather.”

Judson didn’t respond and Olivia had to assume he’d nodded. He then said, “Calvin
Locklear was an Indian gigolo. Not only was he banging my mama, but he was also sleeping
with Munin Cooper. He and Munin already had a son together, but they never bothered
to get married. Real classy, those two.”

I was right,
Olivia thought sadly
. Willis and Talley had a grandmother and never knew it.

“Judson.” Millay spoke his name with surprising softness. “Talley told me about the
marks on the wall in the root cellar of her house. Your house,” she quickly amended.
“There was a name she couldn’t read. And lots of lines.”

Judson expelled a long breath. For a moment, Olivia didn’t think he’d rise to the
bait. When he did, his voice was low and distant. “That’s my childhood, written in
stone. A mark for every beating. An X for each time I was locked in the dark—sometimes
for the whole day without food or water. That’s
my
name on the wall. Sonny. That’s
my
blood in the dirt. That’s
my
house. It will
always
be my house. I’m a part of it.”

Though his words held only a trace of emotion, Olivia was able to picture a little
boy cowering in the corner of the lightless cellar, his body bruised and sore, tears
running down his cheeks. How many times had he incurred his father’s wrath? How often
had he been struck for his mother’s mistakes? Had his nose been broken or his ribs
cracked because of one parent’s cowardice and the other’s infidelity?

And now it was too late to offer sympathy. The boy Sonny was gone. He’d grown into
a vengeful and tortured adult named Judson Ware. And he was a killer.

“What happened to your parents?” Millay was still speaking in a hushed tone.

“Oh, Mama sold our farm to her red-skinned rescuer, but my daddy wasn’t about to leave
the land he’d worked his whole life. He loaded his shotgun and told Mama he’d give
her a head start, but he was coming after her and her man. He vowed to hunt them down
and destroy Calvin’s seed next.” Olivia heard a note of pride in Judson’s voice. “They
tried to run, Mama and Calvin, but Daddy tracked them to a cabin in the mountains.
Buried them there too. No one ever knew except for Munin. That witch woman. Part gypsy,
part Injun. Her kind was lower than animals. No wonder her man choose a white woman
over her.”

Olivia knew this comment would enrage Millay and she dared to open her eyes a crack,
hoping to warn her friend with a glance, but the light caused a fresh bout of agony.
She fought it, willing her vision to come into focus and, finally, the blurry edges
became sharp and she could see a bed, a pair of shoes, the legs of the nightstand.

She lifted her gaze higher and saw that Millay had been tied to the desk chair. Judson
sat on the edge on the bed, one leg crossed casually over the other, a wicked-looking
hunting knife resting on the coverlet near his hand.

“Why would you want to finish the work your dad started? A man who beat you and locked
you up? Because of the casino deal?” Millay asked. Olivia thought her friend seemed
amazingly calm considering the fact that her wrists and ankles were bound to a chair.

Neither Judson nor Millay seemed aware that Olivia was coming around. Judson’s attention
was fixed on Millay and even Haviland’s persistent scratching didn’t distract him.
However, the placid expression on his face changed the moment Millay brought up the
casino and now he leaned forward, his hand curling around the knife handle, his body
taut with anger.

“I told you. The house and the land are rightfully mine! It all belonged to Mama and
she sold it to her Indian. It was meant to be a payoff for Munin and her bastard son,
a consolation prize because her man had left her for another woman. And then Munin
left it in trust for Bo. But what was my consolation? What did I get out of all of
this?” Judson was so mad that his words shot out of his mouth like bullets. Millay
flinched as he sprayed her face with spittle. “Yeah, what about
me
? She just
left
me alone with
him
. She knew what would happen to me, but she didn’t care. That Lumbee devil worked
his mumbo-jumbo on her and she never looked back.”

Olivia winced. She knew all too well how it felt to be abandoned by a parent. A hurricane
had claimed her mother’s life. A few years later, she thought that the sea had taken
her father’s, only to learn decades afterward that he’d staged his own death and had
started his life over again. He’d never contacted her, letting her believe that she
was an orphan.

Again, she pictured Judson as a boy, repeatedly paying the price for his mother’s
betrayal and his father’s shame.

He must have been abused for years,
Olivia thought, her heart aching for the child who paid for others’ mistakes.

“Because you work for Fletcher, you saw Natalie’s medical records,” Millay murmured,
as if she were talking to herself. “You looked up MH and decided to fulfill your dad’s
vow to wipe out the rest of Calvin Locklear’s family.”

Relaxing, Judson resumed his casual posture, took his hand off the knife, and smiled.
“I was always very bright. I could have been an incredible attorney if I’d had the
money to go to law school. But I took the job with Fletcher because I wanted to get
close to the Lumbee. I didn’t see Natalie’s medical records for a long time. Fletcher’s
a paranoid man and he keeps his old case files locked up securely at home. But when
he asked me to watch his place while he went on a golfing trip, I discovered where
he hid his keys.”

“Some house sitter,” Millay said but Judson ignored her. He was too wrapped up in
his own story.

“When I saw Natalie’s chart, I looked up MH and knew I’d found a way to get my house
back. I stole the inhalants from a Lumbee veterinarian. I told you that I like walking
the dogs in my spare time.” He uttered a single, humorless guffaw. “Willis’s went
into a clove cigarette and Talley’s into her inhaler. Munin got rattlesnake venom
in her syringe—easy to buy online, by the way.”

Millay had balled her hands into fists. “She wasn’t a Locklear. Why punish her?”

“She tried to keep Calvin’s son from me, but I got all the old-timer Lumbees to trust
me and slowly, over many, many years, I learned that Munin had borne Calvin a son
and when she got wind of my daddy’s vow, she hid him in plain sight and then took
off, just like my whore of a mother.” His mouth twisted into a crooked smile.

“So what’s with all the time poetry?”

Judson examined his nails. “After Mama sold the farm, Daddy and I rented rooms in
a run-down shotgun house facing the highway. That’s where he began to drink himself
to death. After he succeeded, I got dumped into the foster care system. I only had
a few possessions from my old life. A photo of our farm and Mama’s favorite book of
poems. I was drawn to the ones about time and I needed something to think about while
my world went to hell.” He held out his finger to silence Millay. “No. No more questions.
I’m tired of the sound of your voice.”

Olivia quickly closed her eyes and tried to formulate a plan. She could call out a
command to Haviland and knew that he’d respond by pulling down on the bathroom door
handle with his teeth. Even if it were a knob and not a handle, Haviland could turn
it and get out. However, he’d been schooled since puppyhood not to open a door in
such a manner and only an emergency could get him to break the ingrained rule. At
the moment, he was alarmed and agitated, but if he thought Olivia was in immediate
danger, he’d be out of the bathroom in a streak of black fur and bared teeth.

And yet, Olivia hesitated. Judson had a nasty-looking knife and she couldn’t risk
Haviland being injured. She’d rather tackle Judson herself than have that happen.
On the other hand, if she could create a distraction, perhaps Haviland could disable
Judson without getting hurt.

She opened her eyes a sliver and saw that Judson was in the midst of gagging Millay.
He stuffed a bandana in her mouth as she bucked in the chair, her voice rising in
a stifled shout as she twisted her head back and forth, her face full of fury.

Olivia knew that she had to act now. Judson was preparing to leave. And if he escaped,
Talley would spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder. She would never
be safe. Perhaps none of them would.

Very slowly, she ran her fingers across the carpet, reaching for the pair of shoes
on the floor. She didn’t want to attract Judson’s notice, and having to move her muscles
with such control was extremely difficult. Her head rang and the light from the desk
lamp sent little needles of pain into her eye sockets, but she grabbed hold of the
shoes and pulled them to her. Then she drew in a deep breath and yelled, “HAVILAND!
ATTACK! ATTACK!”

Several things happened at once. The scratching from the bathroom stopped and Olivia
knew that Haviland had the handle or knob between his jaws. Judson swiveled, startled
to hear Olivia’s voice, and picked up the knife. He positioned it loosely in his hand,
the gleaming blade pointed right at her, but before he could take a single step in
her direction, she launched the first shoe straight at him.

The shoes were leather with a solid rubber sole. The left one hit Judson square in
the chest, stopping his forward movement while his mind tried to grapple with what
had struck him. Olivia aimed higher and released the right shoe, the pain blooming
in her head.

She heard an “umph” as the shoe connected with Judson’s chin and then Haviland was
there. Mouth open in a ferocious snarl, he leapt onto Judson’s chest, knocking him
backward onto the floor. The knife came loose and Olivia crawled forward to retrieve
it, fighting against the shadows creeping into the edges of her vision. She gritted
her teeth and, clinging to the arm of the desk chair, sawed through the rope binding
Millay’s wrist.