Number Seventy-Five (8 page)

“What…what are you talking about, Mandy?”

I gripped the bone handle tight in my left hand and squared my shoulders, my steps small as I made my way toward her.

“You know, Samuel was very talkative while he was digging my grave. Guess he felt the need to unburden his soul before he buried me. I learned some
very
interesting tidbits of information about you and your online activities, Shawna. Oh, and the fact that you’ve been fucking my ex-husband and decided that offing me was a better option than just telling me. Typical Shawna—always taking the easy way out.”

“How…how did you…?” Shawna stuttered.

“I put the puzzle pieces together when your brother was digging my grave, you sorry bitch.”

A large clap of thunder rolled around us as cooling drops of rain began to fall. Shawna was up against the rock now with nowhere to go except to climb up it or come through me. Every muscle in my body was ready, awaiting the fight. Shawna had always been a scrapper and she towered over me. But there was no fear on my end, only rage, so I was prepared to lunge. I had played the scenario out numerous times, trying to anticipate the responses from her. But the one that I hadn’t considered is what she gave me.

Tears.

“Please Mandy, don’t. You don’t understand. Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry? For what? Stabbing me in the back by hooking up with Scott, luring seventy-four innocent women to their deaths, or for making me the seventy-fifth?” I growled, moving closer.

“Mandy, please, let me explain.” She held up her hands in desperation, her feet quickly scaling up the rock, putting space between us.

“There is no explanation for pure evil, Shawna.”

Thunder clapped again and the sprinkles turned to a downpour. I raised my voice over the ferocious storm.

“How did it feel, knowing the unbelievable amount of suffering those poor women went through because
you
put them on their path of doom? How in the hell did you sleep at night? Did it just become easier after each one? I guess since they were strangers you felt no remorse, huh? But I’m not a stranger, Shawna. I
was
your best friend. And you betrayed me in the most unspeakable of ways. Now, it’s time to pay for that.”

Openly sobbing now, Shawna reached the peak of the rock. I followed her footsteps and blocked her escape route.

“I never expected death to be the ultimate result. I just thought Russell would swindle them out of their money. When he killed the first one, Samuel and I were stuck. I had already given hundreds of names to Russell, so he just kept on killing. What were we supposed to do, Mandy? Go to the police?”

“You never should have started in the first place, Shawna. And yes, once the first life was taken, you should have done the right thing. But you didn’t. You just kept on. What I want to know before I kill you is why me? Why did you decide I was to be the last one? Because of some average- sized dick that functions about half of the time? Were you that hard up for a lump to keep you warm at night? Seriously, you would have done better with a dog—they are much more loyal. But the part that hurts the most is that you should’ve told me you were in love with Scott. It probably would have ended our friendship, but isn’t that better than killing me and stealing my money?
You were my friend!
”

Shawna was teetering at the edge, her body shaking uncontrollably.

“Mandy, I love you! You have no idea how hard I fought to change his mind! I didn’t pick you, I swear. Scott did.”

Her words ripped out what humanity was left inside me. Shredded to the very core, wrath became my guiding force. The storm that raged around us was nothing in comparison to the one that churned inside my soul.

“What?”

“He…he caught me one night on the computer. It was late. I thought he was sleeping. When he figured out what we were doing, he threatened to go to the authorities. I begged him not to. He agreed to keep quiet…as long as you were the next victim. He wanted it done before he made his last payment to you. I…I had no choice, Mandy. When Jacob couldn’t convince you fast enough to meet him, Scott just went ahead and paid you, then backed me into a corner. He warned me that if we didn’t get all the money in your account, he would blow the lid off of our scheme. I was trapped.”

Fury burned through me. The fires of betrayal charred all reasoning.

“Trapped?
Trapped?
Don’t talk to me about being trapped. Try waking up in a dark cave while you watch your grave being dug by your childhood friend. Then we can discuss the sensation of feeling trapped. You put me through hell on earth—for money. And Scott? Can’t say that I am surprised he’s involved in plotting my death. Of course, if you’d actually been
my friend
and not out scurrying around behind my back like some horny alley cat, Scott would never have had the opportunity to put you in that position. Guess I will just have to deal with him later, after I’m done with you. Now, you have two choices, Shawna. Jump, or face me. Either way, you’re dead.”

Her face contorted in anguish, her limbs frozen in place. Great sobs of agony spewed out of her as resignation to her dire situation hit home. She turned and glanced behind her at the steep drop to the craggy rocks and frothy water below. For a minute, I thought she was going to take the coward’s way out.

The sobs suddenly dried up and her back straightened. A chill passed through me when I realized she chose to fight. The same determination to live that I had experienced in the cave exuded out of her like a palpable entity. I understood her gut instinct to survive, but it would be trumped by my animal instinct to kill.

I clung onto the soaking wet knife for dear life and crouched, ready for her assault. She spun around at the same time as a bolt of lightning slammed into the mountainside less than a hundred yards away. The concussion from the thunderclap that followed it shook the rock we stood upon and caused her to lose her balance on the slippery surface. Her arms spun in wild circles as she tried to maintain her footing, but it was no use. Her feet went out from under her, and she toppled over backward.

Her screams were drowned out as the storm barreled down around me. I dropped to my belly and crawled to the edge and watched her flailing body bounce like a ragdoll against the sharp rocks. In seconds, her mangled body came to a rest on the beach below, face down in the wet sand.

My anguished screams, borne from betrayal, loss and pain, were muffled by the swirling storm. The hot tears were indecipherable from the salty rain as I wept for the loss of the person I once was and the one I had become. They also were a cleansing release that Shawna’s end was meted out by divine intervention and not from my own hands.

“GOOD MORNING, MS.
Russell. I have some news for you if you have a moment.”

I was sitting in my kitchen, enjoying a cup of stout espresso after a long night of writing in my journal. Less than fifteen minutes before the phone rang, I had just finished the final scene from Shawna’s demise in Dominica. The memories were still fresh and easily recalled since it had only been a month since that day on the rocks.

“Good morning, Detective Milton. I am already sitting down, so go ahead.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I should have prefaced that with I have some
good
news,” he responded. His embarrassment seeped across the phone lines from Kentucky to Tennessee.

“Don’t apologize. After everything that has happened, I just assumed it was bad. Guess I am a tad jaded.”

“You sure have weathered some terrible storms, Ms. Russell. But I hope that my news will help bring some blue sky your way.”

“Well, now that would be a welcome change. I’m all ears.”

“Number one is your gun has been officially released now that the case is closed. You are welcome at any time to come pick it up. Number two is that the forensic accountant finished the examination of the bank records. All the funds have been distributed evenly back to the families. They all asked me to express their heartfelt thanks for everything, and some requested that I pass along their prayers.”

“I appreciate you letting me know, Detective. If you have a chance to speak to any of them again, please tell them thank you for me.”

There was a moment of brief silence and I sensed he wasn’t quite finished yet. I knew what subject he was trying to broach, so I beat him to it.

“I assume you heard that Scott entered a guilty plea yesterday and was sentenced to twenty years.”

He tried to let his sigh of relief out quietly, but it didn’t work.

“Yes, I heard. Guess he didn’t want to risk a jury of his peers sending him away for life.”

“Yeah, he always was a chicken shit,” I said, laughing as I thought how his blonde hair and lithe frame would look like dessert to his new cell mates.

“I heard on the news the other day that you were writing a book about your experiences called
Number 75
. Is that true?”

“Sort of. I am putting all my thoughts down in a journal and then I am to deliver them to the publisher. They will have someone ghostwrite it—I believe that’s what they called it. I just finished the last volume right before you called. Good thing too because I couldn’t hold the pen any longer. My fingers are dead tired.”

“You’re writing out the story by hand? Wow, old school.”

“I no longer own a computer, Detective. They are too dangerous.”

“I can see why you would feel that way, Ms. Russell. So, would you like to schedule a time to come pick up your weapon?”

“To be honest Detective, I don’t plan on setting foot inside the state of Kentucky ever again. Do what you wish with it. I have plenty here to keep me safe.”

My momma didn’t raise no fool.

Damn straight.