If It Walks Like A Killer (The Carolina Killer Files #1) (31 page)

Caide’s eyes filled with sorrow. “Carlton’s.”

“Carlton’s, that’s it.” She pointed at him with delight.

“Rachael, I—” Caide’s jaw dropped.

“You slept with her? Are you kidding me? My twin sister?”

“I didn’t know she was your sister. She was just a girl in a bar. It meant nothing. God, please don’t—”

“I told you I was pregnant that spring,” Rachael said, her head growing hot with rage.

“I’m so, so sorry. It was so long ago.” He tried to approach Rachael, his arms outstretched.

The twin stepped between them. “Not long enough for you to forget that you loved me, right?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You told me you loved me. That night. After we slept together. Don’t you remember?” the twin asked innocently.

“I didn’t love you. I didn’t even know you.” His face wrinkled in disgust.

The twin pulled her knife to Caide’s chin. “Take it back. You told me you loved me.”

“You’re crazy. If I said I loved you it was only because I was drunk.”

“Caide,” Rachael yelled, but it was too late. The twin dug her knife into his cheek. Rachael watched the blood pour from his wound, saw his teeth from outside of his mouth. The children’s cries grew louder from the bathroom.

“Oh God.” Rachael covered her mouth, her hand shaking as she reached for the gun. She pulled it out, surprised by the weight of it in her hands. “Let him go,” she shouted, her voice shaky and unconvincing.

The twin turned around, her eyes widened at seeing the gun but she laughed loudly. “You’re going to shoot me?”

“Not if you just leave. Now.”

The knife stayed unwavering next to Caide’s neck. “See, here’s the problem with that Rachael, you shoot me, and I kill him. Then you’ve got four bodies on your hands.” She covered her mouth in fake surprise. “What on Earth would you do then?”

Rachael’s hands shook. “Take him then.”

“What?” Caide and the twin said together.

“Take him. You said he loves you. He’s probably just lying to me, he’s really good at that.” She cast an angry glance toward Caide. “Just take him. You guys go on to wherever you were planning to go. I’ll take my kids. They’ll just get in you two lovebirds’ way anyway.”

“You’d just let me take your husband? Just like that?”

Rachael lowered her gun. “He hasn’t been a husband to me in a long time. All I want is for my kids to be safe. You guys go far away.” She lifted her pant leg to reveal the house arrest bracelet. “The police will be here soon and that won’t be good for either of us. You go now and that’ll be the last of it. I don’t ever want to hear from either of you again.”

“How will you get that off?” The twin glared at her suspiciously.

“You’re wasting time.”

The twin looked at Caide and then back at Rachael, her eyes wild with desperation.

“Go,” she insisted.

The twin held her knife up. “Go. To the car. Now.” She led Caide out the door, seeming not to notice that his blood was now soaking her shoulder.

Rachael shut the door behind them, latching all three locks and resting her back against it. She looked at the cut on her chest. It wasn’t deep, just painful. She tied her shirt together, trying to cover what she could. She allowed herself ten seconds to panic before standing up. She ran to the bathroom, pounding on the door. “Babies, it’s Mommy. Open up please. It’s safe now.”

“Real Mommy or Mean Mommy?”

“Real Mommy.” The door opened slowly and two little heads poked out. She kissed their heads, gathering them into her arms and whispering into their ears. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” She picked them up, surprised by their growth in such a short time and headed for the door. She watched as the SUV pulled out of the parking lot, turning right, before she ran down the metal steps to Argus’ truck.

“Thank God. What happened?” He pulled them into his arms. “I was so worried. Shayna called me. The police are on their way.”

“No time to talk. Get them out of here, someplace safe. She took Caide.”

“Rachael, don’t go after her. Let the police handle it. Please just come with me.”

She handed the kids to him. “I can’t. If she kills him, I’ll never forgive myself. Keep them safe.”

He nodded, placing the children in his truck. “Please be careful, Rachael. If anything happens to you, I’ll be the one not forgiving myself.”

She kissed his cheek, grabbing her keys and hopping into Shayna’s car. She pulled out of the parking lot, turning right. She prayed they weren’t too far ahead of her already. The road was twisty and dark. There were no other cars to be seen, just miles and miles of trees. Rachael sped up, careening around the curves with ease. She drove faster and faster, nearly giving up when she finally laid eyes on the taillights up ahead. She hit the gas once more, her hands clutching the wheel until her fingers were stiff. As she approached the car she could see it swerving.
What in the world was she doing to him?

Chapter Sixty-One

Caide

Caide held his aching jaw. It was unlike any pain he’d ever felt, even dull and nearly numb.

“Well, well looks like wifey lied. She’s coming up behind us now.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” Caide said, trying to hold his cheek together. In an attempt to talk, he kept biting pieces of his face.

“Do you know my name?”

“Huh?”

“Do you even remember my name?”

“Did you tell it to me?”

“That night, I told you that night. I remembered yours. I even went looking for you. I never gave up on you and you don’t even remember my name.” She pressed her foot on the gas. Caide heard them accelerate.

“Look, it was a long time ago. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I don’t remember. I drank way too much that night. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“You said you loved me. How can you not remember my name?”

“Look, that night was the night Rachael told me she was pregnant. That night was traumatic and so, whatever I said or did it was just out of confusion. There’s no need to do this because of me. Trust me, I’m not worth it.”

“This is not just about you anymore. We’re way past that. This is about every stupid boy who’s allowed to get drunk, sleep with a girl, and then forget her. Every man who can leave someone alone with a problem he created, every bully who’s allowed to tease or degrade people just to make themselves feel bigger. For every fucked up person out there who has to make the world twice as fucked up just because they can.”

“What do you call what you’re doing then?”

“Evening the score.”

“No. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to have this noble cause and carry it out by doing exactly what you’re going against.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do. You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

“Everyone goes through bad things. Everyone. Whatever you’ve been through, someone has it worse.”

“Probably so, but not you. And not Rachael. Do you know how it feels to know that I could have, no, should have lived a good life? I was supposed to be happy. I could’ve had pancakes for breakfast and birthday parties and maybe even been read a bedtime story. I could’ve had a life if some idiot doctor would’ve just picked the other twin, or if someone who didn’t switch babies for kicks had been in the delivery room that night. Do you know what it’s like to know that everything in my life could have been different? I just happened to be the unlucky one. My whole life my mother hated me. She despised me, and now I find out that that wasn’t how it was supposed to be. I was supposed to have a real family. How am I supposed to take that? You’ll never know how that feels.”

“You’re right. Though, I’d imagine it’s about the same as knowing that I’m responsible for two innocent women’s deaths, similar to watching my wife watching me screw up my marriage, to physically watching her heart shatter in a courtroom and having it become a spectator sport. I’d say it’s pretty close to realizing that she’s the only woman I’ve ever really loved and I was too stupid to realize it. Like knowing my life is over, my damn good life, and it’s no one’s fault but mine.”

Elise spoke over him. “My mom used to drink. A lot. By the time I was five years old, I knew my way around the liquor store better than my own house. She’d lock me in my room for days at a time while she went on a bender. I had to eat anything I could find: crumbs of old food, bugs, dirt, sometimes nothing at all. I’d just sit in my bedroom for days, listening to her cry, and throw up, and cry again. She’d lock me up just because she could. I didn’t have to do anything wrong, she just wanted me to be as miserable as she was. Do you want to know how many times my mother told me she wished I were dead? Twenty-two times. Do you want to know how many times she said she loved me? Or that she was proud of me? Never. Not one single time. I’ve been hated by every single person in my life and today I find out that the one person who I believed loved me, he never actually did. You can tell me all about your terrible life all you want, but you brought it on yourself. I was just a baby when it started for me. I didn’t deserve any of it.” She was crying now, her voice slurring from sobs.

“Look, bad things happen. I’m sorry that happened to you—I am, but this won’t make it better. This won’t help you.”

“Nothing will help me.”

Caide was struck then, with a clear understanding of his situation. His jaw had gone numb from losing way too much blood. He was beginning to grow tired and dizzy. He wouldn’t make it much longer and his only chance to help Rachael was to get this car to stop. He unbuckled his seatbelt, gripping the door handle firmly. He slowly pulled it, dragging it backwards and turning on the inside light.

“Shut that door,” the woman screamed, lunging toward Caide and nearly running off the road. She leaned all the way over, her hand holding his door shut.

“Watch what you’re doing,” he yelled, trying to grab the steering wheel from her. They were a tangled mess, all tied together when she let go of his door. It was almost slow motion, she kissed his bleeding cheek and then stepped on the gas, shoving his hand away. Tears streamed down her face as Caide began to scream.

***

Rachael

The car sped up, driving to get away from Rachael but she remained close, screaming with each swerve they made. She wiped the tears clouding her vision, trying to remain focused. She saw them swerve once, then twice, then speed up again and Rachael knew what was going to happen. She watched helplessly as the silver SUV sped around a curve: the brake lights never came on and the wheels never turned.

Rachael watched the car crash into the trees. Her screams were drowned out by the sickening, metallic crunch of metal on wood. It was so sudden, so definite. Smoke rolled out of the engine.

Maybe they’re dead.
That was her first thought. Did that make her a bad person? To wonder, even hope for a brief second that they were dead? That all of the madness was finally over? She climbed out of her own car before it was even at a full stop. She fell to the ground, feeling the icy grass chill her fingers. She crawled toward the car, her cries sounded as if they were coming from so far away. She smelled the burnt rubber. The headlights blinded her as she made her way around to the front of the vehicle. Caide was on the hood of the SUV, halfway through the windshield. In the dark, she could only make out dark shadows on his face, which she knew would be blood in the daylight. The twin’s head rested on the steering wheel. Rachael didn’t approach the car any closer. She held her queasy stomach together and breathed. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been standing there, frozen in place, when she finally saw the police lights. They came for her, like she knew they would.

She remained still as a young cop got out of his cruiser, followed by more, their guns raised. She was silent as they slapped the cuffs on her, leading her to the squad car. She watched as they called for backup, staring at the bodies. She rested her head on the cool window as they drove her away. She couldn’t cry anymore. She was done. All cried out.

Chapter Sixty-Two

Hampton

Hampton walked to the table in the center of an almost empty room where Rachael sat waiting. She didn’t make eye contact with him, her eyes hollow and glazed over. She was pale, empty.

“Rachael?” He sat down slowly.

She looked at him, though it was like she was staring straight through him.

“How are you?”

She remained silent, her face emotionless.

“I talked to Brinley and Davis. They’re doing fine. They really like the family they’re staying with. We were very lucky that they managed to stay together.”

Nothing.

“I hope you know how hard I tried to find someone to keep them. A relative, a friend.” He faked a laugh. “I even asked about me keeping them for a while. They wouldn’t allow it. We’re not on the best terms with the government right now.”

Silence. More staring at nothing at all.

“And Shayna, well we’re working on getting her charges dropped. She’s not in jail though, so that’s good.”

Stares.

“She doesn’t blame you. None of us do.”

Nada.

“Caide’s doing better too. They’ve been able to keep him awake for longer lately. He’s still got a way to go, but he’s getting there.”

She began picking at a piece of skin on the side of her finger.

“Look, I know you’re mad, okay? I get it. But your trial is today. We’ve got to prepare. You have to talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to say. Nothing to prepare.” Finally, she looked at him, still empty. “She’s dead. My twin sister, my only hope, is gone. She dies and I go to jail. You said it yourself. Our case is over. Shayna has to testify that I don’t have anything wrong with me, you testify that I escaped your custody, even with Phoebe’s testimony we’re still screwed. Just give up.”

“You don’t have to be like this.”

“I’ve been in isolation for a week, Argus. My children are in foster care, my husband is barely hanging on, and everyone I’ve ever loved is dead. So don’t come in here with your false hope crap. I don’t want to hear it and I don’t care.”

“People need to know the truth.”

“The only truth people care about is the one that lands me behind bars.” She stood up, kicking her chair out of the way.

“Rachael,” he yelled as she walked off.

She didn’t turn to face him and she said nothing else. Hampton pounded his fists on the table, mad at her for saying what he already knew.

***

Shayna

Shayna was on the stand. This was her first time seeing Rachael since the night of the accident. She couldn’t believe how sick she looked, like she’d gone on some miracle diet that sucked fifteen pounds of life right out of her. She was weak looking, hollow.

“Ms. Steele.” Jeanna Avery stood in front of her. “Six weeks ago you convinced the court to grant a continuance. Can you tell us why?”

“I wanted to examine Mrs. Abbott. I believed she may have been suffering from dissociate identity disorder.”

“What is that?”

“It’s more commonly known as multiple personality disorder. Basically, the sufferer dissociates from reality for lapses of time.”

“How often did you see her?”

“Four days a week for the past six weeks.”

“That’s quite a long time.”

“The diagnosis is tricky. We wanted to be certain.”

“So, what did you discover?”

She sighed, wishing Rachael would just look up at her. “Mrs. Abbott does not meet the criteria for a DID patient. I do not believe she is suffering from any mental disorder.”

“You’re sure?”

“Well, it’s just one doctor’s opinion, but yes.”

“So you believe Mrs. Abbott was of sound mind the night of Blaire Underwood’s murder?”

“I do, yes.”

“I see. Now, Ms. Steele, during the time you were meeting with Mrs. Abbott were you always in your office?”

“Yes, we were.”

“So you didn’t accompany her to the hospital on the evening of January 1?”

“Yes, I did.” She could read Hampton’s angry thoughts from across the room.

“But you just said—”

“I was under the impression you were asking if, while under my care, we were always in the office. The answer is yes. On that particular night, I was not on duty. I was simply visiting an injured patient.”

“Okay, and did you or did you not tell the nurse that you’d stay with her so she’d release Mrs. Abbott’s handcuffs?”

“Well, some variation of that, I guess.”

“Yes or no, Ms. Steele.”

She sighed. “Yes. I did.”

“And did you stay with her?”

“I got called away.”

“Did you stay with Mrs. Abbott all night?”

“I didn’t, but—”

“And are you aware that on that night Mrs. Audrey Hagen was stabbed to death outside of her home?”

“Yes, I am.”

“The night that you were supposed to chaperone Mrs. Abbott, but failed to do so?”

“Yes.”

“The first night she’d been left unsupervised in over a month.”

“Is there a question here, your honor?” Hampton asked.

“Ms. Steele, were you aware of a picture that was found on Ms. Hagen’s body when she discovered?”

“No.”

Avery smiled, she held up a bag containing a photograph. She laid it on the witness stand. It still contained bloody smears that made Shayna feel ill. “Do you recognize the people in this picture?”

Chills ran down her spine. “I do.”

“Can you tell the jury what it is?”

“It’s Caide Abbott kissing Audrey Hagen.”

She passed the picture to the jury. “Does it strike you as odd, Ms. Steele, that on the one night Mrs. Abbott was unsupervised, another of her husband’s mistresses turned up dead?”

“I’d hardly call Mrs. Abbott unsupervised. She was in a hospital full of doctors and nurses.”

“Answer the question, Ms. Steele.”

“It’s convenient, yes.”

***

Hampton

Hampton watched Rachael’s hands shaking as Phoebe finished telling her story. She’d been flawless, every detail of her story lining up, all as heartbreaking as ever. The nervousness she’d displayed before was not evident once she hit the stand.

“So you’re telling us that Mrs. Abbott has a twin sister?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Hampton smiled at her. “And Ms. Moore, you realize what you are testifying to here today is a serious offense?”

“Of course.”

“You’ve gotten off free all these years. You’ve could’ve continued to keep your secret. You’d most likely be just fine the rest of your life. Why come forward now?”

“Because people need to know the truth. I can’t watch an innocent woman go to jail, leave her children motherless for a crime she’s innocent of. Not if it’s my crime that caused it.”

“So, you’re willing to face whatever consequences come of this for a complete stranger? Why?”

“I’m guilty. I did what I did and I’m willing to face my crime in order to save an innocent stranger.”

“No more questions, your honor.”

Avery approached the stand, rolling her eyes pettily at Hampton. “Ms. Moore, is there any proof, any medical record of Mrs. Abbott having a twin?”

“Well, obviously not.”

“So, we’re just supposed to believe you? A woman who, by her own admission is a criminal and a liar.”

“Objection, your honor.” Hampton chuckled. “If Mrs. Abbott doesn’t have a twin sister and this story is made up, she is not a criminal. One relies on the other. Ms. Avery’s question is moot.”

“Sustained.”

“Ms. Moore, how do we know? How can we be sure Mrs. Abbott has a twin? Are we only to rely on your word?”

“Well, you can obviously see the resemblance between the two. It’s not like it can’t be medically proven. Their DNA would be identical.”

“And if it is? Who’s to say Rachael Abbott didn’t escape jail and kill her twin to place the blame on someone else?”

“Your honor, the circumstances of Elise Moss’ death were ruled an accident. Rachael Abbott was not in the car the night her twin sister was killed and cannot be blamed for her death.”

“I’ll rephrase, your honor. How do we know it was Elise Moss who killed these people and not Rachael Abbott? Isn’t it possible that Mrs. Abbott has just found someone else to take the blame for her crime?”

Phoebe was silent.

“Answer the question, Ms. Moore.”

“It’s possible.” Phoebe sighed.

“Ms. Moore, what possible reason could Ms. Moss have for killing her twin sister’s husband’s girlfriends?”

“I don’t know.”

“Can you think of any reason Ms. Moss would’ve wanted to kill two innocent women who we have no reason to believe she’d ever even met?”

“Your honor, my witness is not an expert on Ms. Moss’ life. She couldn’t possibly answer that question.”

“Overruled. Answer the question.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Can you think of any motivation Mrs. Abbott may have had to kill the women her husband was having affairs with?”

Phoebe looked to Hampton, her eyes screaming for help. “Possibly.”

“Possibly?”

“Yes, Ms. Avery, I guess she’d have a reason.”

“Can you agree, with what you know, that she would have more reason than Ms. Moss to commit the murders?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you. No further questions.”

Hampton balled his hands into a fist. The judge looked at Hampton. “You may call your next witness.”

Hampton looked to Rachael, who remained pale and uninterested. She hadn’t spoken a word to him since earlier and he was pretty sure she wasn’t even listening to the testimonies. He stood, his suit suddenly feeling too tight. “Your honor, the defense rests.”

“Very well. Ms. Avery, does the prosecution have anything to add in rebuttal?”

“No, your honor. We are prepared to present now.”

“Very well, Ms. Avery, please proceed with closing arguments.”

“Yes, your honor.” Jeanna Avery walked to the center of the courtroom, facing the jury. She wore a grim expression on her face. “On the morning of November 11, Blaire Underwood, a beautiful and well-liked young woman, woke up and went to work, like any ordinary day. She didn’t know that she’d never come home again. On the evening of January 1, Audrey Hagen’s life ended suddenly and tragically. These young women will never again smell the roses growing in their gardens, never laugh at a sitcom on TV, never speak to their loved ones, never eat a delicious piece of chocolate. They were robbed of their lives before their lives had even truly begun. Their families are grieving and there is nothing that can heal a wound that deep. I, however, believe we can ease their suffering by making sure that the monster who killed their loved ones is locked up, so that she can never put another family through this, never again end a life that isn’t hers to end. You’ve heard Mrs. Abbott’s psychologist admit that she is mentally sound, that she was of a clear mind on the night of the murder. You’ve seen the tapes where Mrs. Abbott accompanied Ms. Underwood into the room where her murder took place just moments before it did. Mrs. Abbott had motive. What is that old saying? Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Rachael Abbott was a scorned woman. You’ve seen the evidence, you’ve heard the testimonies, and now it’s up to you.”

She glared at the jury. “It’s up to you to make sure the right decision is made and the killer is behind bars. After the trial today, we’ll all go home. We’ll listen to music, we’ll eat a warm meal, watch a good movie, and kiss the ones we love goodnight. Two innocent young women will never get that chance again. It’s our job to make sure their killer never does either.” She pressed her lips together firmly. Hampton could see her inner glow from his seat. She walked swiftly back to her chair, not bothering to look his way.

“Counselor.” The judge nodded at him. Hampton stood up, not wanting to look at Rachael’s empty face.

“When the trial began, I told you all that as a defense attorney we work with a lot of gray, right? Well, it seems to me, it’s the prosecution who is dabbling in gray this time. She wants you to believe that Rachael Abbott was caught on camera just minutes before the murder, yet somehow managed to beat her husband home, even though he’d left nearly an hour before she could have. She wants you to believe that she snuck out of a fully staffed hospital in order to murder Audrey Hagen and managed to get back without being caught by a member of the hospital staff or on camera, less than twenty-four hours after suffering a serious stab wound.