Candy Apple Dead (30 page)

I could hardly breathe, but I knew I couldn’t back down. My mind whirled, trying to figure out my next move and, at the same time, trying to remember her name. Jawarski had mentioned it, hadn’t he? “If you want him, you’ll have to go through the police.”

“I’m through talking to the police. Give me the dog.”

I inched sideways ever so slightly. I had no intention of turning my back on her, but her friend had to be somewhere, and I wasn’t all that comfortable standing with my back to the stairs. Should I run upstairs? In the dark, would I be able to get the key into the lock before she caught me?

No. Once I got up there, I’d be stuck with no way out.

She was blocking my way to the street, which left the stairs to Bear Hollow. But could I make it up them with Max? Would he even follow me if I commanded him to?

It turned out to be a moot question.

While I ran through my options, Max’s mood sheered off into the dangerous area again, and I knew that the blond man was somewhere nearby. I turned, fully intending to release Max and let him go after his prey, but I was too late. Before I could react, the man behind me lunged at Max, striking him in the head with some kind of club.

With a yelp, Max crumbled to the pavement beside me. I was dimly aware of myself screaming, “No!” but when the man pulled a gun from his waistband, the sound gurgled to a stop in my throat. I had no idea whether Max was still alive, but a deep and desperate need to preserve my own life overshadowed everything else.

“Get rid of the dog,” he ordered Brandon’s widow. “I’ll take care of her.”

So this is what it came down to? Thirty-nine years of living all boiled into this one moment in a parking lot? It couldn’t. I had too much to do. I had Aunt Grace’s legacy to carry on and a brother who needed me. I had nieces and nephews to get close to, and a sister-in-law who deserved an apology.

Desperation drove me to bluff. “Killing me won’t solve your problem,” I said. “I’m not the only one who knows your secret.”

“Secret?” The former Mrs. Mills laughed. “You think one of
us
killed Brandon? There’s plenty of evidence to prove otherwise.”

“I know one of you killed him, but that’s not the secret I’m talking about.” My voice came out sounding high and tight with fear, but I prayed that neither of them would know how terrified I was. I needed for them to believe that I knew whatever secret they’d killed to protect.

“She doesn’t know anything,” the man insisted.

“But what if she does, Jack? What if she’s not lying? You know how Brandon was.”

I filed his name away in my memory bank and kept digging for hers. “It’s no bluff,” I said, trying desperately not to show my terror. “I know the whole story. So do several other people. Killing me isn’t going to protect you, Jack.”

His eyes shot to mine for a split second. Just long enough to let me know that I’d connected. For all the good that did me. There were still two of them and one of me, and I wasn’t the one with the gun.

His moment of uncertainty didn’t last long, either. Gripping my arm, he pulled me off-balance and shoved me toward the Jetta. “Get in.”

All the warnings I’d ever heard about not allowing myself to be moved to a second location kicked in, and I let out a bloodcurdling scream. At the same time, I let myself drop, weightless, to the ground. The force of my weight broke his grip, just like they’d promised it would in self-defense classes. Imagine that.

Still screaming my lungs out, I scrambled to the front of the Jetta and crouched down in front of my sagging fender. Maybe he’d kill me, but he’d have to do it right here. I wasn’t going anywhere willingly.

The noise didn’t seem to bother Jack, but it made the woman nervous. She shot a glance over her shoulder and sidled toward the street. “Come on, Jack. Let’s get out of here. We’ll leave. We’ll go somewhere else. We have enough money to start over.”

“She’s bluffing. Brandon didn’t tell her anything. He didn’t
know
anything.”

“He could have made some phone calls. You don’t know what he did after you left the store.”

Teeth bared, Jack backhanded her across the mouth. “Shut the hell up, Charlene. I’m not leaving here with loose ends.” He moved closer to where I crouched, his voice low and menacing. “Come on out, Abby. You and I are going to take a little drive.”

Fear shot through my veins, and I tried to remember something else I’d learned in self-defense classes, but I’d already used my entire arsenal. I glanced around, searching for an escape route, but Charlene stood between me and the street, and Jack blocked my way to the stairs. Getting past Charlene might not be hard, but could I do it before Jack got a shot off?

I inched toward Charlene, but Jack was smarter than I’d hoped. He leveled the gun at me. “Stop right there. If you think I’ll have trouble shooting you, think again. You’ve been a pain in my ass since the very first day.”

Since the very first day? How had I—

All at once, a wisp of memory came back to me. That very first day after the fire, while I’d been arguing with Jawarski, a blond man had bumped into me in his hurry to avoid the camera crew. I hadn’t gotten a good look at him then, but the solid build was about right. He’d been there, on the street that morning, surveying his handiwork, making sure nothing went wrong.

Bile rose in my throat at the sheer ugliness of it, but I couldn’t let myself stop to think. I had to find a way to escape this lunatic before I ended up with Brandon in the next world.

“Get out here,” he ordered. “Now. This is already taking too long.”

Fighting to keep my head clear, I felt around for something I could use as a weapon. My fingers encountered a crushed soda can, two or three small rocks, and various other pieces of trash, but none of those would be of any use against a gun.

“Come on, Abby.” He moved into the shadows. I couldn’t see him anymore, but I could hear him coming for me.

I thought frantically, trying to remember if I’d seen him drop the club he’d used on Max. If I could find that, I might stand a chance. But I was hunkered down near the front of my car, and Max was lying inert near the trunk. I’d never make it that far alive.

Unless I could disable him somehow.

His footsteps moved relentlessly closer, and fear made every second feel like an hour. I wasn’t even sure my heart was still beating. I tugged feverishly at the fender, hoping I could pry it loose, but I was no match for Max’s strength. Growing more desperate by the second, I seized on the only weapon I could think of and closed my fingers around a fistful of soil from the flower bed.

He moved again, and when the clouds parted I could see him standing over me with his gun drawn. “Get up.”

I did as I was told.

“Get in the damn car.”

That I wouldn’t do. Taking the one chance I had, I lunged toward him, flinging the soil into his eyes and ducking as I did. Using every muscle I had, I threw myself into his legs, hoping I could at least make him lose his balance. He let out a roar, and grabbed for me, but I dodged his grasp and hurled myself toward the other end of the car.

Scrambling on hands and knees, I felt around for the club.
Please
, I prayed.
Please
. I could hear Jack behind me, and I was aware on some level of Charlene shouting something, but there was no time to think.

I found Max, and a few feet away, the club. Somewhere, I found enough strength to scream as I lurched to my feet and swung the club with all my might. I connected with something, and Jack bellowed in pain. I heard the gun clatter to the ground and skitter away, and that was all I needed.

Knowing I couldn’t let him go after it, I swung again. This time, I hit his shoulder. I lowered my aim, connected with his legs, and he dropped like a sack of potatoes. I lunged after the gun and found it, miraculously. Shaking like a leaf, I lifted the barrel and aimed it straight at the man who’d killed my friend. “Move one inch,” I ground out, “and I’ll shoot.”

I dug my cell phone from my pocket and punched 9-1-1. A few minutes later, as the thundering of my heartbeat slowly receded, I heard the wail of sirens in the distance.

I didn’t see Jawarski for nearly a week after that
night. He’d come rushing to my rescue, along with probably every officer on duty that night. Between them, Jack and Charlene had finally revealed the whole story, or at least enough of it to put them both away for a very long time. I was sure the district attorney would have a heyday digging up the rest.

It was an age-old story, really. One that’s mirrored every day in every town across the world. Only this one had a twist. Brandon had learned about the affair his wife was having with his business partner, but instead of confronting the pair, he’d left town. Jack had seen his disappearance as a golden opportunity, so he’d embezzled money from their partnership and laid the blame at Brandon’s door.

It had worked perfectly, until someone who knew Brandon came to Paradise. When Brandon learned that he’d been accused of embezzling funds, he called Jack and demanded that Jack do whatever it took to clear his name. That was his first big mistake.

Admitting that Brandon was innocent would mean admitting that he was guilty, and Jack wasn’t about to do that. With an unsuspecting Charlene in tow, Jack came to Paradise, claiming only that he wanted to reason with Brandon. But Jack never had any intention of risking the life he’d created for himself, and he knew that Brandon was too honest to go along with the lie.

Brandon may have had his faults, but he had a few good qualities, too. I guess that made him human.

It was late in the day when Jawarski showed up at Divinity, just a few minutes before closing time. I was a little surprised to see him since I was pretty sure I’d taken care of all the paperwork down at the station. But he’d been almost nice since the arrest, so I decided to follow suit.

He paused on the threshold to pet Max, who’d come through surgery with flying colors but hated the bandages he was still forced to wear.

“Hey, Jawarski,” I said as the door swished shut behind him. “Here for a toffee fix? I made some fresh this morning.”

He nodded and came toward the counter. “Sure. Wrap me up a pound.”

There was something different about him tonight. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Whatever it was, he looked . . . good. Black leather jacket. Pale blue shirt to match his eyes. Clean Levi’s. “You’re all dolled up,” I said as I started measuring the candy. “Hot date?”

He shrugged and leaned against the counter to watch me. “I don’t know yet.”

“You don’t know? You haven’t called her?” I laughed and checked the weight on the scale. “Let me tell you something about women, Jawarski. This last-minute stuff just doesn’t cut it. Women—
most
women—like to know you care enough to ask in advance. Otherwise, we’re always kind of wondering if we were a stand-in for someone else.”

He lifted a small piece of toffee from the scale and slipped it into his mouth. “Is that right?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“I didn’t know that.” He chewed for a minute. Swallowed. “So how far in advance are we talking? A day? Two?”

“More than that if you can do it. If she means anything at all to you, don’t just assume she’s sitting around with nothing to do. That’s insulting.”

“I didn’t know that, either. So we’re talking what? A week?”

“A week. Five days.” I added a little extra toffee to the scale and nudged it up over a pound. I didn’t want him to think I was giving him special treatment, so I scooped the candy away before he could see the numbers on the scale and stuffed it into a one-pound box. “If you want a date on Friday, at least call by Monday.”

“That’s good to know.” He pulled out a twenty and waited for me to ring up his sale. “Thanks for the advice. I wouldn’t want to get off on the wrong foot or anything.”

“Any time.” I handed him his change and the box, a little surprised that I found that spark of uncertainty kind of endearing. I didn’t let myself analyze the other emotions that plucked at me. I’d given up on men, remember?

He made it all the way to the door before he turned back and caught me watching him. “Abby?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s Tuesday right? So you wanna grab some dinner with me on Saturday?”

My mouth fell open. I could feel it, but I couldn’t stop it. “Me?”

“Well, seeing as how tonight’s out and all.”

“Me?”

“I was thinking, maybe, Mondano. But if you’d rather go someplace else . . .”

I managed, with effort, to close the gaping hole in my face. Somehow, I even got my head moving up and down. “Okay.”

“Seven o’clock?”

“Yeah. Fine.” Other words zinged around inside my head, but it took me a while to get some of them out of my mouth. “That’s perfect.”

He smiled, and my heart did a little tap dance. Jawarski. And
me
? I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t been standing right here.