Killing Secrets (42 page)

I don’t know if I can get there and back before Patrick comes home, but I have no choice. I can’t let Robby come to the house. I have to protect Patrick. Robby can never know.

Karly’s love for him was heart wrenching. The only thing he’d done that day was argue with her. Suspecting something was wrong that morning at breakfast, he came home early and caught her going out. When he demanded she tell him what was wrong, she burst into tears and said she was worried about the baby, that she was afraid mental illness was hereditary and she couldn’t pass that on to their child.

Patrick was so shocked by the implications of what she said he didn’t immediately follow her when she dashed out of the house. An hour later, she and the baby were dead. If he’d stopped her, convinced her that everything would be all right, maybe she wouldn’t have killed herself. But he didn’t stop her, and he’d live with that pain and guilt forever.

“Son-of-a-bitch!”

“What?” He grabbed the diary from his brother’s hand and skimmed the entry until he got to the part that had stunned Jack.

I should have run away again, but I just can’t do it. Patrick’s good to me. I love him. I want our baby to grow up with his father, his grandparents and uncles. I want him to be loved the way they’ve all loved me.

Somehow, I have to convince Robby to let me go. Finally, and forever. I can’t be his Angel anymore.

He glanced at Jack over the top of the diary when a photograph dropped out of the diary to land face up on the table. It was a picture of Karly and Skip. Karly didn’t look older than fourteen or fifteen, though she was already curvaceous. Her wavy, chocolate-colored hair was held off her forehead with a headband and fell over her shoulders and breasts. She wore a simple white blouse and a blue skirt that could have doubled as a school uniform
.

Just like the skirts and blouses that were nailed to the Southgate wall by his saboteur.

Uneasiness stole through Patrick’s bloodstream. Karly’s hair was dyed a reddish color when he knew her, but she’d been a natural brunette. The same color as the women who were kidnapped and killed in recent months. They all had similar, girlish looks and curvy body types.

“Christ, Patrick,” Jack said, staring at the photograph. “I didn’t know Karly was a brunette. Tell me she didn’t have a tattoo.”

“She had a burn scar where she said she’d fallen against a wood stove.”

Jack flipped over the photo to find Karly’s distinctive scrawl
. Robby and his ‘Angel’.
He leapt to his feet, cursing a blue streak. “Shit! Shit! Shit! Robby is Skip,” he said. “Skip’s our Angel Killer!”

Patrick remembered the bouquet of flowers tossed in the Kinnikinnick at Karly’s gravesite. Not eaten by foraging animals. Ripped to shreds by a raging brother with an unnatural obsession with his little sister. Karly didn’t commit suicide. She’d loved Patrick, wanted their baby. She’d met her brother to ask him to let her go, and Skip had killed her.
Jesus.

Scooping all of the diaries into a box, Jack made for the door. “We’ve got to get back to Denver. Now,” he said harshly. “It’s going to take at least an hour to get anywhere near a cell tower and another hour to get to Denver.”

He continued to shout orders as they raced for their vehicles in the dark. “Follow me down in your truck. When we get back to the city, go directly to the hospital. I left mom and dad with Rachel and Amanda and a security detail. Tell them what’s going on while I get the task force rolling. We have to find Skip before he kills again.”

Stopping next to Patrick’s truck, Jack gave him a hard stare. “Stay with them. No heroics. If Karly’s right, Skip wants to kill you…and Rachel.”

Just the thought made his pulse pound. “I’ll be damned if I let him hurt any more of our family,” he promised. “I’ll protect them.”

“And, Patrick, be careful driving back to the city. I’m going to be royally pissed if you run your truck off a cliff trying to get to them. They’re safe enough under police protection until you get there.” Jack turned and ran to his Jeep. “I’ll call you the moment we’ve got him,” he called over his shoulder. “Stay in touch!”

They both jumped into their vehicles and began the most nerve-wracking trip down the mountain Patrick had ever experienced.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Watching Amanda sleep, Rachel sniffed back a tear of thanksgiving. She was happy when the doctors told her they were cautiously optimistic her little girl had received no further damage to her spleen. They still wanted her to remain in the hospital for a couple of days, but Rachel could live with that.

She was thrilled Amanda continued to talk after the trauma of her father’s….

No,
Greg’s
attack and arrest. Amanda had a long way to go to be called a chatterbox, but she’d uttered a few single words in answer to Rachel’s questions, called her “mama”. Rachel had hope the therapist Sam found for her would make progress, helping Amanda become the happy little girl she’d lost.

It would take time. Rachel now knew what had put the shadows in her baby’s eyes. At least some of them. Greg’s last threat had revealed the sickening truth. He’d killed Amanda’s puppy, not a rogue coyote as he’d claimed, and the four-year-old had witnessed it.

She hadn’t stopped talking until the night he’d beaten Rachel though. Rachel didn’t know for sure—it was something the therapist could help uncover—but she had a feeling he’d used that brutality to traumatize Amanda into silence about the doll, “pwomising” not to hurt Rachel if she didn’t let it out of her sight or tell anyone about it. He knew he was going to jail and would do whatever was necessary to protect the information inside the doll. Amanda’s odd attachment to the thing finally made sense.

Of course it was all conjecture. Knowing Greg, Rachel wouldn’t be surprised he’d done that and more. Thank God, he was now cooling his heels in jail. For the first time in years she didn’t have to worry that he’d hurt her or Amanda. This time he wasn’t getting out of jail on a technicality.

The FBI caught everything he said on the wire she’d worn under her blouse. His taunt about blowing up the clinic, his attempt to murder Simon. His admission that he’d killed the family pet. He’d kidnapped and endangered Amanda, and at least ten agents witnessed his attack on Rachel. Her ex-husband was going to prison for a long time. To top it all off, the FBI had located the money he’d conned. They’d already frozen his accounts in Dubais and begun the process of getting the funds transferred back to the States. Everyone was happy.

Well, almost everyone. Another tear ran down her face as she rubbed her hand in circles over her flat stomach. Her thoughts weren’t on the scars there, but the life she carried deep inside her. Patrick’s baby might never know his real father, and that broke her heart.

What was she going to do if Jack didn’t find him or, worse, he didn’t want to come back? There were no guarantees Patrick’s mother and brother were right. They both seemed certain he cared for her. She wished she were as confident.

“Are you okay, Rachel?” Evelyn spoke up from the other chair nestled next to Amanda’s bed. Ross was fast asleep on the chair that pulled out into a bed, the pills he’d taken for his damaged knee dragging him under more than an hour ago.

“I’m fine.”

Evelyn didn’t look like she believed her. “Everything will work out when Patrick comes home and you two talk.”

“I hope so,” she said with a wan smile.

She still didn’t know what she’d say to the man. She’d known it would be difficult to tell him about the baby. She didn’t want to force Patrick into marriage for the sake of the child. She was certain, if he felt responsible, he’d be marrying her so fast her head would spin.

At least, she’d been certain until he’d left her behind at the zoo…like he didn’t care. She wanted him, but she didn’t want him if he didn’t love her. What a mess!

A commotion in the corridor beyond the closed door dragged her away from her worry. Using her crutch to push out of the chair, she crossed the room and opened the door a crack to see the policeman stationed outside stiffen belligerently in front of Patrick’s brother-in-law.

“Skip!” she said, slipping from the room. “It’s okay,” she said to the policeman. “Skip’s family.”

The man relaxed a bit, but not much. “He’s not on the approved list of visitors, Ms. James.”

Skip shrugged affably. “No problem, Rachel. Patrick wasn’t expecting me to stop in so it wasn’t necessary to put me on the list. Can I talk to you for a minute though?”

“What about?” She glanced over her shoulder at the closed door. “Amanda might wake up and I don’t want her to find me gone.”

He shrugged and glanced pointedly at the policeman listening to their conversation. “Um, it’s family business. Could we talk in private? Just for a few minutes. The waiting room down the hall is empty.” He smiled crookedly. “I’ll make it quick. I promise.”

If it had been anyone else, she might have put him off. But this was Skip, the man who’d saved Patrick. Surely, she could spare a few minutes to talk to him. She opened her daughter’s door and called to Evelyn. “Skip’s here. Can you hold down the fort for a few minutes?”

Evelyn nodded sleepily. “Tell him I’ll call tomorrow when I’m not so tired.”

“I’ll tell him,” she whispered, shutting the door.

“Ms. James, I don’t think—”

“Officer Buson,” she interrupted. “I’m just going down the hall for a minute. I’ll be right back. I promise.”

“I’m not supposed to let you out of my sight.”

She understood his dilemma, but didn’t want to argue. She could have had her conversation with Skip and been back by now. “How about we stand at the end of the hall where you can still see me?”

He still didn’t look happy, but nodded. “Stay where I can see you.”

Her left hand wrapped tightly around her crutch, she tucked her right hand through Skip’s arm. They walked down the hall. With each step, she felt more and more anxious. Was he here about Patrick? She didn’t know where he’d gone after he left the zoo, and it was taking forever for Jack to bring him home.

Pulling Skip to a halt at the end of the hall, she glanced back at the watching policeman. She shot him a smile before turning to Patrick’s brother-in-law. “What’s wrong? Is Patrick okay?” she asked, giving voice to her worry.

“Geeze, I didn’t mean to scare you, Rachel.” He shook his head. “I haven’t seen Patrick but I’m sure he’s fine.”

Relief rushed through her. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I just—” Distress crossed his face and he turned away around the corner.

Rachel raised an index finger toward the policeman down the hall, a silent request for a minute, and followed Skip out of sight…and looked directly down the barrel of the pistol in his hand. “Skip?”

“No,” he sneered. “Skip couldn’t make it.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“You don’t have to.” He smiled. “Let’s go.”

“You won’t shoot me.” The situation was too surreal. “There’s a cop right around the corner.”

Reaching behind his back, he pulled a knife and waved it at her stomach. “It would be a shame to leave your little girl all alone in the world.” His voice was conversational, but there was a glint of madness in his eyes that scared her to death. Where was Patrick’s sweet, mild-mannered brother-in-law? “Skip—”

He snarled. “I told you that weakling, Skip, isn’t here. If you don’t come with me right now, I’ll walk around that corner and kill that overprotective cop…and then it will be Amanda’s turn.”

“Ms. James?” Officer Buson’s voice came from the other corridor, was getting closer.

She couldn’t allow Skip to make good on his threat. “Don’t touch them.”

“Don’t make me.” Skip grinned, grabbed her arm, and tucked the knife behind her back where it couldn’t be seen.

Before she knew it, they were walking through the hospital entrance into the warm summer night. Skip led her through the parking lot between the cars until he stopped in front of a battered, black truck. Realization dawned. “It was you that ran me off the road!”

“You’re hard to kill,” he whispered next to her ear as he covered her face with an awful smelling rag. “We’ll do better this time.”

The last thing she heard before the darkness overtook her was the crash of her crutch against the pavement and a strange man’s laughter.

~~~

Patrick had entirely too much time to think on that long trip through the mountains back to Denver. He couldn’t get to the hospital fast enough for his peace of mind. He had to see Rachel, Amanda, and his folks, make sure they were all safe. If Skip wanted to hurt him, the people he loved were in grave danger.

He’d missed the signs. It was Skip who pushed Rachel into the elevator shaft. Skip ran her off the road. Skip killed Cook. Wrote the threatening notes.

The first note, the one in his truck, had said, “They are mine.” He’d believed
they
referred to Rachel and Amanda, that Bishop had left the note. But he couldn’t have left the second one. After reading Karly’s diaries, that first message took on a sinister new meaning. Had
they
meant Karly and her baby? Skip met with Karly that day. She must have told him she was pregnant.