Number Seventy-Five (6 page)

A flash of blue lights, the squall of sirens, a bumpy helicopter evacuation to the hospital, and countless hours of questions from law enforcement occupied two full days. The first day I experienced a gut wrenching phone call to my mother that damn near broke my heart. I had feared she would suffer another stroke, which had been at the forefront of my mind when I called. I made sure my words were chosen carefully as I downplayed my injuries.

I had to pull out every trick in the book I knew to keep her and Dad from coming up here. The last thing I wanted was for either of their weakened eyes to attempt to navigate the mountain roads or see their only child in such a condition. I told Dad to keep the television off and not answer any phone calls or visits from the press. I told him to have Mom occupy her time fixing me prepared meals that I could just heat up since cooking with broken fingers might prove difficult. Finally, I promised them that once I left the hospital, I would stay with them a few days while I recuperated. Parental worries placated, they relented and stayed home.

I had told numerous law enforcement officials every sordid detail, from beginning to end, several times.

Well,
not everything.

I omitted one large, particular detail.

A detail I would handle on my own once I returned home.

The wounds to my body would heal eventually. My knee was still tender, my fingers taped together, seven stitches in my skull, and my ribs still sore with each respiration. The fluids delivered to me intravenously had rehydrated my parched body, but the trauma embedded inside my soul…that was another thing.

Another thing indeed.

“Ms. Russell, are you okay? Do I need to call the nurse? You look like you are in pain.”

I smiled up at the detective in response.

“I’m sorry. Guess I sort of zoned out for a moment. I was just thinking about closure,” I said. He nodded somberly, no more explanation needed.

“And no, thank you, calling the nurse is not necessary. I’m just ready to go home. I want to see my family. And to forget about all this…this nightmare.”

“Of course you are. Once you are released, I will be driving you back to Bainsville. I’m sure your family can’t wait to see you. Let me go check on your release papers, and then we will be on our way. Okay?”

I nodded in appreciation. It was against standard hospital protocol for anyone other than a duly qualified family member or an ambulance to transport a patient home. Of course, Crenton was even smaller than Bainsville and rules were meant to be broken. If I had to guess, I would say that Detective Milton wanted to pick my brain on the drive back, maybe to see if I remembered anything else that might be of use to them. Then again, it could be that he just wanted my perception of cops to be less tainted after almost being buried alive by one.

“Yes, and I can’t wait to see them. And my best friend. I can’t imagine how upset Shawna is after not only losing her brother but finding out he was a serial killer, err, burier.”

The detective’s eyes clouded over, I’m sure from the disgust of knowing that a fellow officer was involved in such a despicable crime. The fraternal bonds of the blue were deep, and when one brother strayed from the fold, they all seemed to feel the pain and humiliation.

“Yes, as we all are. Hard to believe one of us could be such a monster. Tarnishes the badge for us all.”

“One bad seed doesn’t taint the entire apple, detective,” I replied, his smile of gratitude real. “Did you happen to find out when the funeral is?”

“It is scheduled for tomorrow at two. Are you planning on attending?” he asked, his face devoid of emotions but his voice carrying a hint of incredulity.

I sighed heavily and looked out the window. A hot tear slid down my face and landed on my lap. “I don’t know. I am very conflicted about that. I want to be there for Shawna. Samuel was all the family she had left. Now she will be rattling around that big ol’ house they shared all alone. I can’t fathom the mental anguish she must be experiencing. But, I’m really worried about how the fact that I shot him will affect our relationship and my presence at his funeral. The pain of losing a loved one doesn’t lessen no matter what the circumstances of their departure were, and sitting next to her brother’s executioner might be too much for her to handle.”

“Well, I can’t offer any sort of advice in that area, but I can tell you that she has called the nurses’ station several times to check on you. I doubt that she would be interested in your welfare if she didn’t still care about you, Ms. Russell.”

Ha, if he only knew!

I let a feeble smile tug at the corner of my lips and focused my attention to his face. I reached out with my hand for his, which he eagerly clasped.

“Thank you for telling me that Detective Milton. Maybe there is hope our friendship can be salvaged after all.”

His warm hand patted mine with one awkward touch. He quickly let go as a flush of embarrassment crept into his face.

“I hope my knee holds out for our, um, my trip. God, funny how life is all about timing—on the dot or way off the mark.”

Detective Milton cocked his head slightly in curiosity.

“Oh, I booked us a tropical vacation getaway for her birthday. It was to be a surprise. Shawna always wanted to go to the Caribbean. She just never could afford it. Fortunately, I can. I was hoping the scenery would be a welcome salve to the atrocity of turning forty. You know, us gals have a thing about that number. Youth has officially passed and nothing left to look forward to except old age. Maybe, if she still wants to go, it will help her get over this. I know it will help me heal.”

“I’m sure after the initial shock wears off, things will calm down. Now, let’s get you home so you can rest,” he said. He turned his back and disappeared, his feet carrying him at a brisk pace out to the nurses’ station.

I shifted my weight on the hard mattress so I could look out the window. A vibrant blue sky dotted with fluffy white tufts of clouds sat in somber silence. The serene view did nothing to quench my smoldering anger as my thoughts of Shawna swirled around in my mind.

Yes, a vacation hiking on the jagged, remote cliffs on the islands with my
best friend
was definitely in order.

Jacob and Samuel may have been numbers seventy-five and seventy-six, but that didn’t count. After all, it had been women that were the hunted game.

And I sure as hell knew which female was in my sights for number seventy-five.

I watched the clock tick precious seconds away. I had the perfect murder plotted and ready to execute. The ironic part was that I had already had the vacation to Dominica booked so there would be nothing suspicious about the trip. Two tickets--one for me and one for Shawna--and a weeklong stay at a bungalow right on the water. I had planned on telling her at dinner the night after my date with Jacob. The best part was that my mother was in on the secret and had actually gone with me the day I went into Knoxville to arrange everything.

And now, a cop knew.

I had the perfect alibis.

I didn’t know much about police procedure and zip about accounting, but eventually, Shawna’s role in the deadly game would be discovered. And that didn’t need to happen until I had already killed her.

I could barely contain my eagerness from displaying across my face, and I had to force my fingers still. I was antsy, ready to get this show on the road and to show my friend a killer time in Dominica.

THE AIRPLANE RIDE
was long and uncomfortable, even in first class. In the three weeks since my attack, my knee was back to normal and my fingers were mending remarkably well. But my ribs still bothered me when confined to one position for too long. No wonder. Four of them were cracked, and although I wore a calm exterior, my insides were a knotted mass from stress. All that tension wasn’t helping my muscles relax.

“I still can’t believe we’re here. My God, it’s even more beautiful in person,” Shawna gushed as we stepped out of the plane. The tropical air Dominica was known for greeted us with its heaviness, settling upon us like a hot, damp towel.

“Those glossy travel magazines just don’t compare to the real thing, do they?” I said as we climbed down the stairs, inhaling the pungent air. “I can’t wait to see the ocean.”

“Oh, me either! I wonder if you can really see down hundreds of feet to the bottom like the travel brochure said. I mean, wow, that will be awesome! Nothing at all like the dirty lakes at home. Jesus, you can’t see six inches below the surface. No telling what monsters are lurking about under your feet.” Shawna laughed as we walked across the tarmac.

“Another reason I prefer crystal clear pools to swim in. Less worry about what lies beneath.”

My fake laughter sounded so foreign to my ears because all I felt on the inside was dormant fury. Like the volcanoes that created Dominica eons ago, my hatred for my former best friend bubbled and churned, waiting impatiently to erupt. The façade of concerned friend, one who truly wished to mend the broken heart of her distraught best friend, was making me nauseous.

We hailed a cab and silence ensued between us as we each stared out the windows at the breathtaking scenery. I smiled and thought about paradise. Shawna certainly wasn’t headed there when she departed this world, so I guess she would have to settle for dying in it. At least her final resting place wouldn’t be in some dank cave. She was lucky.

I felt the apprehension seeping from her. I knew her mind was plotting my death just as mine was hers. Our minds both burned into overdrive as we each neared the end of our races. Simpatico sisters we were, but only one of us knew that.

I had been on guard ever since Detective Milton had driven me home to Bainsville. The ride home had been quiet, and my previous assumption that he had offered me a lift stemmed from his eagerness to continue questioning me had been way off base. He had been quiet and just let me think, only talking if I spoke first. I had pretended to doze off a few times and just let my brain wander, the inner beast called revenge had fully taken control. But that monster also was keenly aware that another predator was in its territory. A stealthy slayer that wanted revenge for her brother’s death and my money.

Too bad she would not experience either.

Shawna had circled me like dinner when I arrived back home and turned her predatory growls into loving coos. She gushed. She cried. She apologized for what her brother had done to me. She thanked me for being strong enough to stand by her side while she said her final goodbyes to him. She even publically announced that I was all the family she had left, and we would lean on each other for emotional support during this sorrowful time. Heartfelt words were choked out from the pulpit at her brother’s funeral so
everyone
would hear her speak of her love and devotion to me.

She marveled at my strength and will to live and to have escaped the clutches of death. She swooned with mock horror every time the news reported on the case and managed to shed a few real tears when her brother’s face appeared on the screen. We talked on the phone and the night I told her about her surprise birthday trip to Dominica, she howled with delight. And why shouldn’t she have? I had just handed her the opportunity to plan a tragic accident during our vacation.

It was obvious to me that she was trying to figure out exactly what I knew, what I didn’t know, and what my weaknesses were so she could plan accordingly.