Find Me If You Dare (The Chronicles of Elizabeth Marshall Book 2) (16 page)

  Chapter Forty-Two

Pinpricks of light. Tiny flashes of white. That was all I could see at first. My eyes felt as though they had heavy weights against them as I struggled to open them. Just that slightest movement seemed to take so much effort. Everything was blurry at first and the bright light stung my eyes.

I moved my head slightly to better see my surroundings and a sharp pain radiated from my
left temple right through my skull. I squeezed my eyes shut again against the blinding pain.

Where was I? How did I get there? What had happened? I couldn’t remember right away. In the distance I could hear hushed voices.

“Do you think she passed out?” I knew Logan’s voice. His concern was evident in his tone.

“Well, she had to be in a state of shock,” it was a woman’s voice now. It took a moment to recognize Madeline’s brisk reply. “I shouldn’t have left her, even for a moment. I knew better. With the shock setting in, it was no wonder she passed out. I should have called for help.”

“I didn’t pass out,” I didn’t recognize that small, weak voice coming from my mouth until the words were already out.

“Caitlyn!” The voices said my name in unison and I immediately heard them come closer.

I dared trying to open my eyes again. The pain was still there, sharp and heavy. I tried to focus again and noticed the small area I was in. It was a cramped space with bright lights. I was laying on a hard surface and there were odd storage compartments around me. A young woman in a black uniform sat next to me, she had just finished cleaning the cut in my hand and bandaging it. An IV was attached to my uninjured arm, connected to a bag which was hooked to a pole next to me.

I was in the back of an ambulance. Judging by the fact that the vehicle wasn’t vibrating with movement, I guessed we were still parked in the parking lot.

“What did you mean you didn’t pass out?” Logan, ever the detective, didn’t miss a thing. He was instantly by my side, laying a comforting hand on my shoulder.

“I didn’t pass out,” I struggled this time to get the words out. For some reason it was important that Logan knew this small fact. It took a moment to remember why it was so important to tell him. Then it came back. I reached up with my newly bandaged hand and felt a large lump behind my left temple. “She hit me.”

“’
She
’ hit you?” Logan gave me a confused look only for a moment then all color drained from his face. “Was it Elizabeth?”

“She’s here,” I nodded weakly.

Then all hell broke loose.

Logan started issuing orders, telling Madeline not to leave my side, telling her to protect me. The he was calling for the Director. All available law enforcement authorities
fanned out through the rental complex and the surrounding area. Townhomes were searched, possible witnesses questioned. There was a manhunt now and the hunted was close.

Madeline was all apologies. She
felt awful for leaving me. She had had a harder time that she had expected finding a first aid kit. She wasn’t sure how long she had left me alone. I wasn’t sure how long I had been knocked out. Lisbeth couldn’t have more than a fifteen to twenty minute head start on us. But for her, it was enough. She was an expert at blending into a crowd and melting away. She knew how to be plain, to do nothing to cause attention to herself. She knew how to be forgettable.

Logan debated whether to transport me to a local hospital or keep me on the scene close to him. I fought to stay here. I was stable enough, nothing life-threatening. Besides, maybe I could act as bait. Maybe I could draw her back into the area.

The search went on for what felt like hours. I fought to stay alert and on top of what was going on, but exhaustion, shock, and my injured head conspired against me. The EMT must have given me something for the pain in my head.

As I drifted off, engulfed in the arms of near-collapse and painkillers, I could have sworn I heard a familiar voice laughing at me from the darkness. The flashing green eyes were there too. I could almost hear the sing-song voice in the chilly evening air.

“You can’t catch me, no one can. I’m free now. Find me, Cate. Find me if you dare.”

                       Chapter Forty-Three

It was a beautiful day. Not a cloud in the sky. It was even quite warm considering that spring wasn’t even here yet. It shouldn’t have been this beautiful, this perfect. It should have been dark and gloomy, gray and rainy. That was the kind of weather fit for a funeral, not this bright, sunny day.

The mountains in the background were still snow-capped. They had brought him home to Utah for a final time.

I gazed at the dark walnut coffin draped in red and white flowers, wrapped in blue ribbons. Patriotic colors. A symbol of his service to his country. An American flag was folded into a neat triangle, waiting to be presented to the family.

Across the casket to the other side sat Lewis’ mother, Ellen. She was an attractive woman in her early sixties. She had been widowed right after we were married when Lewis’ father James had died of cancer. Lewis also had a sister, Nadine
. She was serving in the Navy. She hadn’t been able to make it to the funeral because she was serving on an aircraft carrier in the Persian Gulf and couldn’t make it here in time.

Ellen was surrounded by a few members of her extended family but she still seemed frail and alone, completely grief-stricken. I hadn’t spoken to her much since the divorce. I had tried once to explain what her son had done to me, the years of mental and physical abuse, but she had refused to believe her son was capable of such things.

As the final prayer was said over the small service, she looked across the casket between us and held my gaze. Was it my imagination or was there accusation in her eyes? Did she know? Did she know that someone I had known most of my life had killed her son? Did she suspect that his death may have been done as revenge for me? Did she sense the immense burden of guilt I was carrying on my shoulders at that moment?

The authorities has been careful about
not telling his family too much about the suspected murderer. Logan had promised that my connection and been kept as quiet as possible. They’d only told Ellen that they had a prime suspect and were putting all their manpower and resources into finding the person who had committed the crime.

My parents had come with me to pay their last respects and offer me support. For that I was very grateful. I was also grateful for the various men and women in their dark funeral suits, scattered seemingly randomly throughout the gathered crowd and across the cemetery grounds. I knew they weren’t here because they knew Lewis or had come for the funeral
. They were a protection detail, for myself, my family, even Lewis’ mother Ellen although she didn’t know it. I almost felt like an important politician with a secret service detail. It was unnerving as well as comforting.

I felt Logan’s presence just a few feet behind me. He kept a respectful distance
, allowing me room to grieve yet still watching over me.

“How are you holding up?” He whispered after we watched a military chaplain present the folded American flag to Ellen.

How to answer that? Numb? Still in shock? I didn’t think the enormity of it all had completely sunk in yet.

I looked up at him, unable to give a voice to my raw feelings.

Just then, I noticed Ellen approaching me. She saw Logan talking to me. She knew he was a detective on the case.

My parents stepped forward to offer their condolences. She graciously accepted their words of comfort, still dabbing her eyes from the service.

As she approached me, I took a deep breath. I had to say something. But what could I say? I’m sorry my crazed best friend killed your son in revenge for what he did to me? Would anything I said at this point be adequate enough?

“Ellen, I am so sorry,” I began.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

She gave me a small nod then looked at Logan then back at me. Her
shoulders seemed to straighten. Her eyes took on a hard glint. She leaned close to me, her voice quiet yet strong.

“Do you know who did this?” She asked me directly.

I swallowed hard, unsure what to say. This woman used to be my family. I didn’t think she had ever really approved of me. I think she felt as though no one would ever be good enough for her precious son. Related by marriage but never really close. I looked into her clear, damp eyes.

“I’ve been told they have a suspect,” I answered evasively.

She looked down at my still bandaged hand then back up at me. Her eyes were steely. She then drew her gaze up to Logan.

“Find who did this,” it was more of an order than a request, “find them and make them pay for what they did.”

Logan’s arm was the only thing that kept me from crumbling to the ground.

                       Chapter Forty-Four

Logan had offered to take me over to my parents after the funeral but I had refused. I didn’t want to be with them right now, for them to suspect what I was really dealing with. And I didn’t want to be alone. If I was left alone right now I would really fall apart. Instead, he was taking me with him to the police department. I thought it would help if I had something to do, and the most useful thing I could do was work to bring this madness to an end.

It had been over a week since the night Lewis had been identified and Elizabeth had gotten away, slipping right though our fingers. She had gone back to that apartment that night, lured us back there for only one reason: To find me and present to me my “gift”. No note had been left this time, no clue that they could find. We had no direction at this point. The only thing
the authorities could do was to try to protect me and my family because they knew there was a clear threat to those close to me.

In the time since that night when Elizabeth had approached me, I had been living in a strange kind of bubble. Everything around me seemed to be at a distance. It was as though I was still going through my daily routine, eating, sleeping, breathing, but it was all happening to someone else. Almost an out-of-body experience. My emotions, if I allowed myself to feel them, were so raw, so sharp and painful, that I fought to keep them at bay. I almost felt like a robot, moving through life in an emotionless fog.

Even Logan had sensed that I needed some space. We didn’t talk much. We didn’t even discuss the case since there wasn’t much progress at this point. We just sat there in silence as he drove west through the city, away from the cemetery up on the mountain bench towards the small town and the police department.

I was so lost in my numbed world that I jumped when he spoke.

“Caitlyn,” his voice held a pleading tone that I had rarely heard from him, catching my attention immediately. “I need to ask for your forgiveness.”

I turned sharply to look at him, completely confused.

“What do you have to ask forgiveness for?” My words sounded brittle even to my own ears.

What could Logan possibly have done that he
needed to ask my forgiveness? He’d been wonderful, so supportive and understanding. He’d been there as often as he could over the last week, being my strength yet at the same time giving me space and not pushing me.

If anything, I was the one who should be feeling guilty. Everything that had happened since the day Elizabeth had gotten away from that treatment facility, all the death and
horror, I had to take some responsibility for. If it weren’t for me, if I hadn’t tried so hard to get her released….

“I read Lewis’ police file,” Logan’s quiet confession caused me to take in a sharp breath. “I read the entire background check on him. I saw the police report that was filed in North Carolina. I saw the pictures. I saw what he did to you.”

There, it was out. I’d never shared the details of that part of my life with Logan. There were countless reasons why. I didn’t want him to think I was foolish for staying with my husband as long as I did. I didn’t want him to see me as weak, helpless. I didn’t want to have to relive it, confront it. And especially since he was a law enforcement officer, I was certain I wasn’t the first battered wife he had encountered.

What could I say?

“He didn’t deserve to die the way he did,” Logan’s voice was low but firm, carrying more emotion in it than if he was shouting, “but you shouldn’t torture yourself about this. A man should never do that to a woman, especially his wife. He should have gotten more than a few days in jail for what he did to you. To be honest with you Caitlyn, if he were still alive, after what I read in that police report, I don’t know if I could have kept myself from beating him to within an inch of his life. You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve what he did to you. You’re worth so much more than that.”

His words, filled with such quiet conviction, finally broke the dam that had been holding back the raging emotions that I’d kept buried deep within me. I’d been trying so hard to be strong, or at least appear strong on the outside. If it didn’t crack then no one around me would, and I wouldn’t have to confront all the pain and anguish that was boiling up inside of me.

Before I knew it, Logan had pulled off the side of the road in a quiet residential neighborhood. His car came to an abrupt stop as he cut the engine, got out of his side of the car and came around to mine, pulling me out of the car and to my feet and wrapping his arms around me as the floodgates opened.

I had no control over the tears. They flowed
from deep within, releasing all the pent up fear and emotions I had been carrying for too long. I cried for the loss of a man I once loved, the loss of a marriage that didn’t have to have ended in such violence. I cried for the other lives that had been lost since this madness had begun.

I cried for myself, for the loss, the pain, the worry I had been carrying.

And I cried for the loss of the little girl with orange-red hair and bright green eyes, full of life, creative, unique and imaginative. I cried for the loss of Lisbeth, because for me she was gone, as dead as my ex-husband I had just buried.

Now, for me, there was only Elizabeth. She was my sole focus from this point forward.
We needed to stop her.