Drop Dead Perfect (An Ellen Harper Psycho-Thriller) (28 page)

BOOK: Drop Dead Perfect (An Ellen Harper Psycho-Thriller)
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She read the prescription and shot him a look. “How long have you been taking these and why in hell didn’t you tell me?”

Big Harv stood straight, took a deep breath, and shifted closer to her.

“Ellie. Listen. You have to focus. I’m fine, and we can talk about this later.”

“Dad—”

“I said listen. I’ve seen this before. Around that corner is a room probably twenty-by-twenty. It was used as a bonus or panic room for some dumb-ass drug setup or maybe even gangbangers. That means Brice and the other women are probably in there and whoever did this to them is too. If you don’t stay focused, we’re all in deep shit with no shovel, clear?”

She tilted her head, giving him a half smile. “Clear. But if we get out of this alive, you’re going to wish you hadn’t. Is
that
clear?”

“Fair enough.”

He pulled his old revolver from his holster and pointed with it.

“I’ve tried three times to text Sanchez and Dillon. Can’t get a signal. It’s just us unless you want to go back and get help,” he said softly.

She shook her head. The thought of Brice being just around that corner hurt or dying, or dead, let alone the women’s safety, made her decision easy.

“Let’s get this done. You go high and left, I’ll go low and right.”

There it was again. That proud-to-have-you-as-my-daughter look.

Big Harv stepped around her, motioned with his left hand, and they burst around the corner and into the room.

“Chicago PD. Raise your hands,” hollered Big Harv.

The first thing she noticed was Brice in the middle of the floor, tapping his foot, lying next to a young lady in a padded chair. Behind them were two people suspended on the wall. Both dead. She recognized Joannie Carmen, but there was a hood on the man.

The whole situation looked like a scene from a movie set designed to elicit the worst kind of fear. It was surreal.

She scanned the room again and then things went from weird to bizarre. One of her paintings hung on the wall opposite of where Joannie Carmen hung.

How in God’s name did that get here?

“Dad? Do you see that?”

No response.

“Dad?”

Glancing in Big Harv’s direction, she saw that he was frozen in place, not moving a muscle.

Looking just beyond him, Ellen saw why.

A long-barreled pistol rested against his head.

She recognized the gun before she saw the woman holding it.

“Hello, Ellie. Just keeps gettin’ better and better, don’t it?” said Kate Mortimore.

CHAPTER-52

 

 

Ellen’s life, except for segments of the last fourteen months, had been woven around the logical, the elements of her profession that could be proven and the parts of her personal life that could be measured. It had been an anchor of sorts. Hell, part of her even understood how the divorce from Joel could make a little sense, as weird as entertaining that thought was at that moment. But to see Kate, her best friend, her surrogate mother holding her infamous Pearl to Big Harv’s head was akin to meeting a true, living alien from another planet.

She did her best to recover from the out-of-body experience.

“Kate. What the hell are you doing here? And get that gun away from Dad’s head. Are you nuts?”

“Well, now my sanity is something we can discuss later, if you’re able. And I’m more than willing to tell you why I’m here, except right now I need you and the captain here to drop your weapons. I’d just feel safer that way, you know? And I’d hate to blow Big Harv’s head clean off before we was ready.”

Staring at her friend didn’t make the crazy go away. The woman was out of her mind. Kate’s wide-eyed look confirmed it.

“Don’t you dare drop that weapon,” gritted Big Harv. “She’s going to kill us both anyway.”

“Well, ain’t that just noble.
I
ain’t going to kill anyone, if you do what I say. If you don’t, well, let’s just say we’ll get a jump on things.”

“Ellie, do as I say this time,” urged Big Harv softly.

Raising her weapon, she aimed directly toward Kate’s head. This woman wasn’t the Kate she’d known since before she’d been married. It was as if she’d flipped a switch and the drapery of deceit and lies had been revealed, allowing Kate’s true colors to shine through. The woman’s body language told Ellen that she was totally capable of doing what she claimed. Still, aiming her gun at Kate’s head was somewhere south of disquieting. All Ellen could think of was the conversations they’d had regarding life and getting over pain. Kate had been a rock.

Ellen frowned. “I think not, Kate. Just drop Pearl, and we’ll go from there. You need help.”

Cocking her head to the right, Kate’s quick sneer sent a chill down Ellen’s back.

Kate pressed the barrel into her dad’s temple, snatching his revolver from him with her other hand.

“Need help, huh? This ain’t no game, Harper. You have no damn idea what’s going on here, do you?”

“Suppose you tell me,” replied Ellen with an even tone.

“Oh, I will. But first, I’m guessin’ you need to drop that Beretta and kick it over here, now. I ain’t got the patience for this. I will shoot this old bastard. And just in case you think I’m playin’ games, the reason you don’t have backup is ’cause I took care of those two blues guarding the street. And that ain’t all. Look at those two hanging on the wall over there. I didn’t kill them, but I would have if I’d needed to. I ain’t got no feelin’s for them.”

“You killed two innocent cops? What the hell’s wrong with you? That just means you’re as psycho as the one who killed these two,” said Ellen, her anger beginning to burn.

“Psycho? No. I’m just willing to do what’s necessary.”

“Necessary?” Ellen saw red. “You knew about the two murdered women and now a third,
plus the man hanging there, and you thought that was okay? What about Brice and Rachel? Were you going to kill them too?”

“Not me, but they’d have to go to make sure we got this right. And hell, yes I knew. I’d do anything to help right the ship. Anything.”

“Anything?”

“Yes. Dammit. Anything. I got to right a wrong, and by God, I will,” snarled Kate.

She pointed Big Harv’s gun toward the man on the wall. “I’ll make my point. That sorry excuse for a man is, or was, my youngest, sniveling, dumb-shit son.”

The silence couldn’t have been any louder.

Ellen’s mind bent in a direction it never had. She wasn’t a mother, a parent, yet she’d seen that God-given instinct at work during situations when children were in danger. Parents would, and did, die to ensure the safety of their babies. Sometimes the kids in trouble weren’t even their own. There was an almost mystical command to protect the young. She’d seen it in Big Harv, even at her age. Now this woman who’d been her friend displayed a totally different ideal. She knew what she had to do.

“Your son, Kate? Your son?”

“Sorry to say. We all make mistakes, Ellie. He was one of mine. Thank God the other one made something of himself.”

Just when it couldn’t get any nuttier, it did. Exhaling, Ellen steeled herself for what was next.

“You have another son?”

“Yep. I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

“I’m looking forward to that myself.”

“He’ll be here shortly. Now, for the last time, drop the gun, Ellie. I will scatter his brains all over those new boots of yours.”

“No.”

“What?” said Kate.

“Good girl,” said Big Harv.

The surprise on Kate’s face came and went, but Ellen had seen her eyes. The woman didn’t want to die. If she followed through on shooting Big Harv, she knew Ellen would take her out. Kate had underestimated her.

Advantage good guys.

“You think I’m bluffing?” warned Kate.

“I think you’re way into
you
, and dying isn’t on your schedule tonight.”

“Yeah, well, losing your old man wasn’t on yours either. I told you I’d do anything. Say goodbye to―”

Ellen pulled the trigger and watched as Kate flew backward, landing on the wooden floor. There was a second report as Kate’s gun went off, bullet whizzing just over Ellen’s head. Kate had missed. Ellen hadn’t. She rushed past Big Harv and held the Beretta on Kate, then saw she didn’t need to. The hole in Kate’s forehead confirmed it.

Ellen stared. She’d wounded a perp once,
and she’d returned fire at Steve Jansen, but never had she killed anyone. That point was topped off by the fact that she’d loved this woman ten minutes ago.

Dropping her weapon to her side, Ellen wept.

CHAPTER-53

 

 

The heavy hand on her shoulder caused Ellen to whirl and raise her gun to face the source, but Big Harv raised his hand.

“Easy, Ellie. It’s me.”

Never thinking about what happened next, Ellen stepped into his awaiting arms and embraced the most important man in her life.

“I’m sorry, honey. It doesn’t get much worse than that,” he whispered.

“No, dad, it doesn’t. I. . . I . . .”

“We’ll try to figure it out later, we’re not done here.”

Stepping back, she wiped her eyes, holstered her Beretta, and stood a little taller.

“You’re right about that. Let’s get these two out of here.”

“How touching. Father and daughter, bonding like many haven’t, I expect.”

The voice coming from their right caused Ellen to stop in her tracks. That one sentence sent her world tumbling to the end of a darker abyss. It was impossible. It couldn’t be. She hadn’t heard him speak in six months, but like any other traumatic event in a person’s life, the people that caused them were unforgettable.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” swore Big Harv.

They turned together, Ellen reaching for her gun as they did.

“That wouldn’t be wise, Ellie.”

Standing with one of those shit-eating grins he’d been famous for, pointing a .45 at her, was Joel Harper. Her ex never looked better, or more insane.

Ellen removed her hand from her holster, trying to shake the rest of the aberration the last few minutes had offered. She’d killed Kate, and in the time it took to hear Joel’s words, she’d realized that he was Kate’s other son. He’d lied about everything. What was next? The Easter Bunny walking in, carrying an AK-47?

The reality of hearing Joel’s voice and seeing his face should have sent her careening into a blazing arena of rage. It didn’t. Her emotion and thoughts all came together, and she felt oddly calm, clear. It was like a culmination of the last year had all been shucked away, all of the pain and anger in just a few seconds. Something inside her had clicked, and the chains were gone. Ellen couldn’t explain it, but her mind was hers, not Joel’s, not Kate’s, not Big Harv’s, or Oscar’s. Just Ellen’s, as it should be.

The three of them stood motionless in a loose triangle. Joel smiled. Even now, it was almost magical.

“I suppose I owe you an explanation and a thank you of sorts,” he said.

“I’m listening,” she answered.

Lowering his weapon, he nodded.

“Thank you for killing Kate.”

“You’re thanking me for that?” she asked, keeping calm.

His face contorted into pure rage, then he caught hold of it, relaxing.

“Yes. She had it coming. You saw how she was. You killed her for it. Like I wanted to for so many years.”

He flashed a quick grin. “Not all sons love their mothers, and you no doubt have guessed she was my mother. Only in a biological way, for the most part. She was the personification of abuse and neglect, and she eventually went away to an asylum for twelve years. Mostly to avoid legal difficulties for leaving my now-deceased brother Damon and I to fend for ourselves. One night when he was seven and she was out on one of her drug-induced sprees, the apartment caught on fire, disfiguring my kid brother and sending him and me into another level of existence, a hell.”

“She went away, I got stuck with him after he was released from the hospital. At first, I was the loving, protecting big brother as we moved from one foster home to another. I wouldn’t leave him. But as I got older, I realized what a burden he’d become. He was mentally exhausting and physically, well . . . grotesque doesn’t cover it.”

Joel had switched off the insane and had become the man she’d fallen in love with. It was remarkable and totally unnerving simultaneously. She stayed quiet.

He scowled. “I endured it as long as I could. I wanted him and what he’d force me to remember each day to vanish. I needed to start my own life. Is that such a bad thing? Isn’t that what everyone wants? At any rate, I got him his own place and paid for everything. He lacked for nothing.”

“So you’re the good son, huh?” asked Big Harv.

“I was. I am. I did the best I could.”

He looked back at Ellen. “I met you two days after I moved him into his apartment. I thought that there was finally going to be balance to all that I’d endured.”

BOOK: Drop Dead Perfect (An Ellen Harper Psycho-Thriller)
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