Lisa Jackson - Born To Die

Not looking up, Randy clicked the information into his keyboard. “You got it.”

“Good.” Kacey turned back to Elle as Randy swept up the bag and headed out. “Once I look over the films, and we get results back on your tests, I’ll give you a call. In the meantime, I’m prescribing a stronger antibiotic. That should start things working.” She wrote out a prescription, then asked Elle to return the next week. “You can make an appointment at the front desk.”

“I will,” Elle promised.

Feeling as if the extra swab were burning a hole in her pocket, Kacey nevertheless asked, “Did you grow up in Coeur d’Alene?”

“Boise. Why?” she asked.

“Just wondering.” Kacey lifted a shoulder, as if she were only mildly curious, when her mind was spinning. You’re hypersensitive this week. She doesn’t really even look that much like you. Not like the actress and Jocelyn Wallis.

“I’ve lived in Idaho all my life,” Elle said. “Born and raised there. That’s what made the move so difficult, I guess. But Tom — that’s my husband — he took a job over here and uprooted us all. The kids had just settled into the school year, and then we had to go.” A trace of sadness colored her gaze. “It’s the economy, you know. It even affects lawyers.”

“I’m sure you’ll make friends here fast, and the schools are great.”

“I hope so. My son, he has no trouble fitting in, but my daughter. . It’s more difficult for her. She’s thirteen, just kind of trying to figure out who she is, and, well, it’s tough.” She sighed.

“Grizzly Falls is a great town.”

“I hope you’re right.” She didn’t seem convinced.

“Just give it a little time.”

“I guess I don’t have any choice.” She shrugged and started reaching for her clothes, and Kacey headed for her office. Then she waited until Elle Alexander, the last patient, had left, the exam rooms were cleaned, and both Nadine and Randy had gone home as well.

Telling herself she was making a mountain out of a molehill, she locked the door behind her. All her life she’d been fascinated with conspiracy theories, and they’d always landed her in verbal debates and lectures with her mother, in the beginning, or more recently, with her ex. JC thought she was out of her mind, but she was still half convinced that there was more than one shooter in the JFK assassination, that Princess Di was killed by her enemies or someone within the royal family, and that Kurt Cobain did not commit suicide.

Despite all her ex-husband’s arguments.

Once she was certain she was alone, that everyone had left the clinic, she retrieved the bagged swab from her pocket. Though she realized that she was jumping at shadows, and despite the fact that she was going against everything she believed in, she sent the Baggie to the lab with a special request for Elle Alexander’s DNA profile.

And there was that trainer at Fit Forever… Gloria somebody, who Elle thought looked like her. Kacey decided she would make a trip over there soon and see if she was “another one” of them.

“Bizarre,” she said aloud as she turned out the lights.

As smart as he was, sometimes fate or God or whoever seemed against him, he thought as he hurried down the rickety old stairs. The scent of the basement, of dust and dirt, filled his nostrils as he unlocked the door and stepped into his private office. Without thinking, he locked the door behind him and tried to calm himself.

“One.” Breathe. “ Two.” Take another, deeper breath.

Agitated, he slowly counted to ten, then to twenty, but his fists were still clenched, his shoulders tight, his mind a blaze of red. A deep fury that burned bright. Opening a drawer in the desk, he saw the yellowed records that he had collected, soon intended to destroy. The ancient computer from which this information was taken was long gone, the floppy disks of that era already disintegrated into nothing, their files corrupted and irretrievable.

So all that remained were these papers he’d preserved with such care. And he would burn them, one by one, as soon as each of those he called “the Unknowings” was dead.

Of course, there was always a chance that one of them could still stumble upon the truth, and that thought twisted his guts. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, let it happen, he thought, anger rising again.

Wanting to kick something or someone, he made his way to the specialty bar he’d installed himself, slid out of his clothes, and stepped into his pair of gravity inversion boots.

After strapping himself in, he began doing abdominal pull-ups, curling himself toward the ceiling, feeling his spine decompress, forcing his muscles to work hard.

He needed the release and gritted his teeth as sweat began to run along his skin.

He’d plotted out his revenge neatly and spent years slowly taking care of the Unknowings. The pictures he had of them, all taken moments before their deaths, were proof enough of how patient and careful he’d been, the years he’d put into this project. But every once in a while, some of his best laid plans were undone.

The most recent case in point was Elle Alexander. How could he have predicted that her shyster of a husband would pull up stakes and join a law firm here? In Grizzly Falls of all places? It complicated things, and now that damned Elle was going to ruin everything. She’d already visited Acacia Lambert, and that spelled trouble.

But you can fix this. You know you can. Think!

His muscles strained as he pulled up, held the position, then slowly lowered himself to hang upside down for a second or two before repeating the process.

He couldn’t afford any screwups now.

There’s still time. Just concentrate!

Again he pulled upward.

This time his abs screamed.

Slowly he rolled downward, and while his muscles protested, he forced himself to do another set and unhooked his boots only when his abs and back felt as if they were on fire and sweat dripped down his body to pool on the floor.

Good. It’s good.

Taking a deep breath, he flipped lithely to his feet. He was agile and strong, a high-school wrestler who’d gone to state and later, in college, a member of a competitive crew team. He’d rock climbed, explored caves, scuba dived, and snow skied.

And he’d never backed down from a challenge.

Even the biggest of his life.

So he couldn’t allow anything to get in his way.

Not even that niggling sensation that caught him off guard once in a while. That someone knew.

“Stop!” he said aloud, to jar himself away from the unfounded fear that sometimes burrowed into his heart.

Already he’d had to accelerate his schedule. He’d planned on taking his time, to not arouse any suspicions, but now he felt a tightness in his chest, a sense of dire urgency. Time was running out.

At least he understood who would be next.

Finally, his thoughts were clear. He always had a plan B, which was always a little more dangerous, with more chance of being found out, but at this point, he had no choice. Elle had to be dealt with.

It would work out. Most of those far away had been dealt with, which left him a clear shot at those who were near.

He would have to tread carefully, as ever. One mistake now and he’d be exposed before his mission was finished, before he could be free. He couldn’t allow himself the sense of ego to think that the cops were stupid; he’d just been lucky, as so far they had been in different jurisdictions. And the actress had brought national attention. Because of her fame, Shelly Bonaventure’s untimely demise had caused a deeper scrutiny; because of her lifestyle, her death had been ruled an accident.