Malevolent (18 page)

Her pulse ticked up a notch and she increased her pace. Jeremy fell in step with her, not saying a word. Emma saw him scanning the parking lot, the sidewalk, the street. Looking for the threat that she knew was there but that remained hidden.
 

She practically ran the last ten feet to her car, but drew up short when she realized something was on the ground in the shadows right in front of the driver’s side door. Jeremy grabbed her arm to keep her from moving forward and pulled out his flashlight.

When the light hit the three mice with no eyes, Emma screamed.

###

He lowered the night-vision binoculars and smiled. Emma thought she was being smart, parking in the open lot instead of the employee garage, but nothing was going to stop him from his mission. And the old man with her just made him laugh. The way he practically shoved her in the car and sent her away from the hospital, then took a picture of the mice with his phone, like that was going to matter to anyone except the woman he’d just scared half to death.

The old man was no match for him. Both of them combined were no match for him.

All of Emma’s efforts—changing hotels, hiring a detective, parking in different places—were a waste of time. Emma couldn’t make a move that he hadn’t already anticipated. She wasn’t clever enough. Wasn’t cunning enough. Not like him.
 

The things he’d gotten away with were a testament to his prowess. He was the superior being. Mama may not have thought so when they were kids, but she had no choice but to think so now. He’d show her. He would never be a loser like his daddy.

At first, he’d thought Emma was different. That maybe Mama had been wrong about some women, but Emma had turned out to be just like all the others. Only caring about herself. Never satisfied until she’d ruined a man’s life. She’d ruined David’s, and she’d gotten off scot-free. But the legal system wasn’t the only way to get justice.

Hell, it wasn’t even the best way.

###

Emma pulled into the valet drive at the hotel and practically threw her keys at the young man before running inside. She could hear him calling after her as she ran down the hallway to the elevators. She knew she was supposed to give him her room number, but she was afraid that if she attempted to talk, she’d have a nervous breakdown right on the spot. She needed to get to her room, behind a lock and a dead bolt.
 

The elevator seemed to take forever, but at least it was empty. If anyone even looked at her for longer than a second, she wouldn’t be able to handle it. She knew he was there. Had known it the instant she stepped foot outside of the hospital. Why hadn’t she gone back inside? She could have slept in the break room. It had a little cubby with cots in case staff had to stay over and needed to catch some shut-eye. Why did she let Jeremy put her into her car?

Her entire body felt as if it were covered in something vile. Like his eyes were still on every inch of her. She knew it wasn’t possible—not here in the hotel—but she couldn’t shake the feeling from the parking lot.
 

The elevator chimed and opened and she bolted out of it, running down the hall for her room. She fumbled with the card and dropped it twice, cursed, then finally managed to get the door open. She shoved her shoulder against it so hard that she yelped and stumbled inside, pushing the door shut behind her and drawing the dead bolt.

She dumped her purse on the bed and pulled out her aunt’s pistol, checking the magazine. It was loaded and one round was chambered. The guy at the gun range had told her it was dangerous to carry with a chambered round, but Emma figured it was even more dangerous to need the time to chamber a round if a stalker was after you. The gun was holstered and her purse was locked inside her locker at work. The risk of an accidental discharge was minor. The risk of coming face-to-face with her stalker grew every minute.

Still gripping the pistol, she headed into the bathroom. She placed the pistol on the counter and pulled off her clothes, letting them drop onto the cold tile floor. She turned on the hot water in the sink, dropped a towel onto the floor in front of her, then stepped on it. She grabbed her loofah from her travel bag and soaked it with the scalding water, then began to scrub her skin. A shower or bath was too risky. Not enough time to respond if he managed to gain entry into the room, but she couldn’t take that layer of filth that his gaze had put on her skin.
 

She rubbed and soaked and rubbed and soaked at a frantic rate until every square inch of her body had been scrubbed clean. The light burn was preferable to the itching she’d felt before. Finally, she dropped the loofah into the sink. As she looked up, she saw her reflection in the mirror. Her skin was mottled red from head to toe. Some patches were darker than others, but not a single square inch of unmarked white remained. She let out a single cry and grabbed the pistol, then sank onto the floor and sobbed.

Chapter Fourteen

She heard footsteps on the stone steps and knew it was the man. Without thinking, she backed into the corner, as if hiding in the shadows would somehow protect her. The door swung open and the light blazed in, blinding her. She threw her hand over her face, peering through her fingers, trying to see what the man was doing.
 

And she saw the red dress.

No!
The silent scream tore through her and she tried to shrink into the wall.

“It’s Samhain,” the man said as he moved closer.
 

She cowered down, praying the man would leave. That was the bad dress. Horrible things happened when she was forced to wear it. Things she didn’t understand. Things that made her scream in pain.

She looked up as he leaned over her, the needle poised in his right hand.
 

“Time to become beautiful,” he said before he plunged the needle into her arm.

Shaye jolted awake in the dimly lit room, momentarily panicking until she realized where she was. She glanced at her watch and couldn’t believe it. Almost 8:00 a.m. Between doctors, nurses, and the occasional police guard drop-in, it had been a hectic night. Eleonore had arrived about thirty minutes after Shaye, ready to raise hell and call up the National Guard. Shaye had talked her off the ledge—a turn of events she found rather ironic—and finally convinced the psychiatrist that both of them could not share the one uncomfortable chair in hospital room and that Corrine would need someone at home with her the next day. Someone who could listen to her for hours at a time because there would be no end to the complaining once Corrine was at home and got indignant over the whole thing. Eleonore would have her hands full.
 

At some point, the room traffic died down, and when Shaye dozed off, the nurse must have turned off the overhead light. Now the lights above Corrine’s bed and light emitting from the monitors were the only things illuminating the room.
 

Shaye rose from her chair to check on Corrine and was relieved to see her mother’s chest rising and falling naturally. The bruises had darkened overnight, leaving her perfect white skin marred, something that would plague Corrine until the bruises went away. Her mother always insisted on looking her best. She wouldn’t leave the house without makeup or with her hair in a ponytail. Shaye assumed it was a carryover from the way Corrine’s mother had raised her. She had to assume because Audrey Archer had passed away when Corrine was not yet a teenager, so Shaye had never met her. But through Corrine’s stories, she almost felt she knew her.

Corrine stirred and her eyes fluttered open. She looked confused at first, but then her gaze locked on Shaye. “I forgot where I was for a moment,” she said. “How long have I been out?”

“It’s almost eight a.m., so quite a while. How do you feel?”

“Like I fell down a flight of stairs. You know, I did this when I was twelve and I don’t recall it hurting that bad then.”

“I hear that’s what happens when you get old.” Shaye struggled not to smile.

“Old? Old! We’re practically the same generation.”

“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that.”

“Shaye Archer!” Corrine stared at her in dismay. Finally, Shaye couldn’t hold it any longer and the grin she’d been holding in broke through.
 

“Shame on you,” Corrine said, “picking on me when I’m hooked to machines. You just wait until I get out of here.”

Shaye laughed and pressed the call button for the nurse. “How about we find out when that will be?”

Corrine’s mouth quivered and she smiled, then she put her fingers on her cheeks. “Oh, that smarts. How bad is it?”

“The truth?”

“No, I want you to lie to me so I can be even more upset when I look in a mirror.”

“It’s not pretty, but I don’t think anything will scar.”

“Give me a mirror.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now.”

“Okay,” Shaye said as she dug a compact out of her purse, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She opened the compact and handed it to Corrine.

Corrine held up the mirror and her eyes widened. She turned her head from side to side, studying the damage, then clicked the compact shut and handed it back to Shaye. “It’s not as bad as I feared, but makeup is not going to cover this.”

“I could get you a ski mask. Quite fashionable among skiers and criminals.”

“They’re horrible for your hair. I think I’ll just deal with people asking me ‘how does the other guy look?’ for a couple of weeks.”

A nurse walked into the room and smiled. “Make sure you tell them he looks worse,” she said.
 

Shaye moved away from the bed as the nurse checked out Corrine. “You look good for a woman starting fights in abandoned buildings. I’m going to send the doctor in.”

“Thank you,” Corrine said as the nurse left. She looked up at Shaye. “I want out of here.”

“I know you do, but you have to listen to the doctor. That’s what you always told me.”

“How did you grow up to be such a nag?”

“I had a good teacher. As soon as the doctor gives you clearance, you’ll be lounging on the couch at home, driving Eleonore crazy.”

“Eleonore?”

“She insists that staying with you during the day is how she can help most. Grandfather will be back from China sometime this afternoon, and he’ll be stopping by. I’ll be there tonight.”

“And today?”

“I have to work. I need to get answers for Emma before…”

Corrine frowned. “Before something worse happens to her than happened to me.”

Guilt rocked Shaye. The only reason Corrine lay here in that hospital bed was because of Shaye’s case. Logic told her she wasn’t responsible for the actions of a madman, but in her mind, it didn’t lessen her culpability. If she hadn’t taken the case, Corrine wouldn’t be in danger. Even worse, she was hiding the reason for the attack from Corrine, and even though it was for her own good, Shaye had her own reasons for keeping the information secret. All Shaye wanted to do was help Emma, but she still felt selfish for hiding things.
 

Maybe because deep down, she knew that helping Emma also helped herself. Proved that she could do the job she so desperately wanted to excel at. Proved that she could find answers when the police had given up. She held in a sigh. In a couple of days, she had created weeks of issues to talk over with Eleonore. The woman was probably going to have to double her sessions.
 

Shaye placed her hand on Corrine’s arm. “The first thing I’m going to do this morning is talk with a detective about Emma’s situation. I might have enough evidence now to get the police involved.”

Corrine’s relief was apparent. “Thank God.”

“It’s not a sure thing, so don’t celebrate yet. But I’m trying to shift the responsibility where it belongs as soon as I can.”

“Is Emma okay?”

“Honestly, no. She’s exhausted, terrified, and probably hasn’t slept one good hour in weeks. I don’t know how much longer she can hold up.”

“If I can do anything, let me know. We have facilities for women…if she needs somewhere to get off radar for a while.”

Shaye leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

Corrine smiled. “Probably, but I’m always happy to hear it some more.” She sobered. “You be careful, Shaye. None of us are exempt from violence. You know that better than anyone. I just got a harsh reminder.”

“I’m taking every possible precaution.”
Except dropping the case.

Corrine nodded but didn’t look convinced. Shaye didn’t blame her.
 

She wasn’t convinced, either.

###

Emma jumped up, banging her elbow into something hard and immovable. She panicked for a moment before she realized she was on the floor in her hotel room bathroom and that immovable object that had just assaulted her was the cabinet. She rubbed her elbow, then pushed herself up from the floor. Her clothes and the towels were still scattered across the tile where she’d dropped them the night before. She picked her watch up from the counter and stared at it in disbelief. It was almost 8:00 a.m.

She’d slept on that floor all night.