Karen Rose - Die for Me

“Maybe I decided to start earning my paycheck, although I’d ask you the same question. A few days ago, you were making yourself scarce. Now you’re here, every time I turn around. Why?”

Theo’s expression darkened. “Because I’m watching you.”

Sophie blinked. “Watching me ? Why?”

“Because unlike my father, I’m not an idiot who trusts for no reason.” He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Sophie staring at his back, her mouth open.

She shook her head. She was being ridiculous, being scared of Theo. But what did she really know about the Albrights? Sophie, come on. Simon was thirty years old and his father had been a judge. Theo was barely eighteen and his father was the grandson of an archeologist. She was truly being ridiculous. Theo was just a weird kid. Still…

She found the ax Theo had used to open crates for her before and set it where she could reach it quickly. Even with Officer Lyons on guard, it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared.

Atlanta, Georgia, Saturday, January 20, 8:45

A.M.

“Daniel. Look. It’s from Mom.”

Daniel looked up from the mail he was sorting to find Susannah focused on a piece of paper that he instantly recognized as stationery from the hotel where his parents had stayed. “She wrote us? And sent it to herself? Why?”

Susannah nodded. “She says that she also sent you a letter.” She sorted through her stack and found it, handing it over to him. She held hers to her nose as Daniel opened his. “It smells like her perfume.”

Daniel swallowed. “I always liked that perfume.” He scanned the letter and his heart sank even as he appreciated the missing pieces his mother had settled into place. “She knew Dad was lying about finding Simon for her but didn’t have the strength to follow him everywhere.”

“Are they the same letter?” Susannah asked.

They put them side by side. “Appears so. I guess she was taking no chances.”

“She sat in that hotel for two days, Daniel, while she waited for Dad to come back.”

“I guess he’d gone to see Simon,” Daniel murmured.

“But I was only two hours away.” There was hurt in Susannah’s voice. “She sat there in pain and alone for two days and never called me.”

“Simon was her favorite, from the time we were little. I don’t know why it still hurts that she saw it as a black-and-white thing. Love us or love Simon.”

“Up to the end she hoped he would be good.” Susannah put the letter down hard on the table. “And she trusted him.” Tears sprang to her eyes. “She knew Dad was missing and still went to meet Simon.”

Daniel blew out a breath. “And he killed her.” If you’re reading this, then I’m probably dead. If you’re reading this, you can be satisfied that you were right about your brother. “She met him and he broke her neck and threw her in an unmarked field.” He looked at Susannah, unable to control the bitterness. “And part of me thinks she got what she deserved.”

Susannah looked down. “I thought it, too. That’s why she sent these letters to herself. If her time with Simon was just an innocent visit, she would have exposed her true fears about her golden child’s character for nothing. If she sent it to us, we’d know. If she sent it to herself, she could scoop them back up before anyone was the wiser.”

“And she was going to die anyway.” Daniel tossed the letter to the table. “What did she have to lose? Except time with us.”

“He’s still out there.”

Daniel hesitated. He’d tried to find a way to tell her all morning. Just spit it out and get it over with. “There’s more, Suze. I didn’t want to think about it, but all night I couldn’t think about anything but when Ciccotelli told us they’d found Claire Reynolds, our parents, and two empty graves. What they didn’t tell us is that they found them with six other bodies.”

Susannah’s eyes widened. “You mean the graveyard they found… I saw it on the news. I didn’t put it together. I should have.”

“I should have, too. I guess I was too shocked finding out Simon wasn’t dead.” Daniel stopped himself. “No, that’s not true. I didn’t want to think about it. But it was nagging at me, so I called Vito Ciccotelli this morning and asked. He confirmed that Simon was wanted for ten murders. Maybe more.”

Susannah shut her eyes wearily. “I keep thinking it can’t get worse.”

“I know. For years I would lie awake and worry about the people in the pictures, if they were real. That Simon had a hand in their deaths. That I couldn’t help them. Now there are more victims and this time I can’t look away. I need to go back to Philadelphia, to help Ciccotelli and Lawrence now.”

“We go together. This week we stood together over our parents. When this is over, I hope Simon will finally be dead and we can stand over his body together, too.”

Saturday, January 20, 9:15

A.M.

“We ready?” Nick asked, handing Vito a cup of coffee as he slid behind the wheel.

“Yep.” Vito peeled back the plastic lid. “Bev and Tim are in position around the block. Maggy Lopez just called to say Van Zandt’s next up in the docket. If the judge allows him bail, he should be out in an hour.”

“I hope this works,” Nick murmured. “I’d hate to see Van Zandt get away.”

“Me, too.” The words came out a lot shakier than he’d intended.

Nick looked over at Vito. “You’re scared.”

Vito didn’t say anything for a long minute, then cleared his throat gruffly. “Yeah. I’m scared to death. Every time my phone rings I wonder if it’s a call saying he’s gotten to her. That I didn’t keep her safe enough.”

“This is different from Andrea, Chick. This time you’re not in this alone.”

Vito nodded, wishing he was reassured. But he knew he wouldn’t breathe easily until Simon Vartanian was behind bars. Still, his friends cared. “Thanks.” Then his cell phone rang, making him jump. But it was Jen. “What’s up?”

Jen yawned. “I’ve been up all night, Vito.”

“So was I,” he said, then winced. “Um… never mind.”

Jen growled. “I’m ready to hate you, Ciccotelli. I worked all night while you were having hot sex. No, I think I hate you already.”

“I’ll buy you crullers every day next week. From the place in my neighborhood.”

“Not good enough, but it’s a start. We’ve charted churches in a fifty-mile radius on the soil map. Nothing that remotely resembles the church in the game.”

“Well, it was a long shot. Thanks for trying.”

“Don’t you dare hang up on me, Chick. I found your picture.”

“Which picture?”

“The newspaper photo of Claire Reynolds and her lover. It was taken at a march three years ago. The woman is about thirty with light hair. She’s thin. Not really any physical attributes to set her apart. I’ve never seen her before.”

“Damn,” Vito muttered. “I was hoping. I wish I could come in and see it, but we need to stay here. Van Zandt could be coming out any time.”

“Can your phone receive pictures?”

“No, but Nick’s can. Can you send it?”

“It’s on its way.”

“Give me your phone,” Vito said to Nick, then squinted at the screen when the picture downloaded. Every muscle in his body went taut. “Fuck.”

“Who is it?” Nick asked. He took the phone, then whistled. “What a cold bitch.”

Jen’s voice perked up. “You recognize her, Vito?”

“It’s Stacy Savard,” Vito said. “Pfeiffer’s receptionist is blackmailer number two.”

“I’ll get her address and send a cruiser out right now,” Jen said.

Vito took Nick’s phone and stared again at the grainy photo. “She knew Claire was dead and she looked us in the eye and never blinked.”