Carlene Thompson - Don

She got out of the car and glanced around. Tattered clouds floated across the moon. Off to the side of the building sat a car mostly hidden by shadows. She could tell that it was blue, but she didn't make an effort to identify it. What was the point? Yellowish light from the sodium vapor lights of the nearby convenience store drifted dimly over the portico of the pavilion. Business was slow at the 7-Eleven tonight. Two cars and nobody entering or leaving. No one to see her go into The Blue Lady. No one to call the police. Maybe that was good.

Natalie had forgotten to put on a sweater or windbreaker. The cool, damp air clung to her bare arms; mist coated her face. She trembled, but she didn't know if it was from the sixty-degree temperature or from fear.

She had no idea what she would do when she entered the pavilion. Maybe her mere presence would be enough and the killer would let Paige go because her purpose as bait had been fulfilled.

But Paige could identify her captor. The chance of the killer letting her go was zero. And what could Natalie do about it? She was unarmed and help was not on the way. The killer had been playing games with her for days. Tragically, Paige had been drawn into the game.

The padlock hung loose. Natalie drew a deep breath and pushed open the door. "Paige?" Nothing. What had she ex pected? That the child would run into her arms and they could return to the safety of the car? She took two more steps into the cavernous room. Three candles burned on the dais. A voice floated out of the near-darkness. "Close the door behind you."

Natalie stepped back, never taking her eyes from the candles, and pushed shut the door. "Now what?"

"Come to the dais."

The dais with its three candles looked far away. She walked slowly, glancing up at the mirrored ball throwing glittering reflections from the candle flames onto the empty tables and walls. A faint scent of roses floated from the candles. The night she had followed Blaine to The Blue Lady and heard the voice so like Tamara's threatening to kill her, she had smelled roses. But tonight not even the sweet floral aroma could hide the smell of mildew and decay hovering in the abandoned pavilion.

Natalie reached the dais. "All right. I'm here. Why don't you show yourself?"

A low snicker. "I'll be happy to." A figure stepped from the shadows, dragging along a whimpering, terrified Paige. "Good evening, Natalie," Ruth Meadows said.

Natalie stood stunned, her mouth so dry she couldn't swallow. She thought she'd been stupefied to come home from school to find her mother missing. She thought she'd been flabbergasted to walk in on Kenny making love to another woman. None of those things compared to finding the bodies of Tamara and Jeff. And even those grisly discoveries didn't cause the immediate, profound shock of realizing Ruth Meadows was a murderer.

"I don't understand," Natalie said stupidly.

Ruth smiled. "Then I did a good job." She wore a dark poncho with the hood down. Her short, silver hair shone in the candlelight. She held Paige close. The child's lower arms disappeared behind her back. Her wrists were tied or handcuffed. "You never guessed who I really am," Ruth said.

Natalie stared at her, images and phrases flashing in her mind. Their gazes met and held, one aqua and glinting, the other dark and steady. "You told me to have golden dreams," Natalie said slowly. "Viveca said Eugene Farley told Alison to have golden dreams. You're Constance Farley."

The silver-haired woman nodded. "Right you are, dear. It's a shame you didn't realize it sooner."

"You can't be Constance Farley. Nick talked to her in Knoxville."

"The sheriff talked to a woman who claimed to be Constance Farley."

"But the police questioned her neighbors."

"Natalie, you're a bright girl. Use your head. How long has this woman lived in Knoxville? Six months. She intro duced herself to her neighbors as Constance Farley. They had no reason to doubt her."

Her voice was so cold, her grip on the child so tight. "Why don't you let Paige go, Constance? I'm the one you want, not her."

"Now you know I can't let her go," the woman who was Constance Farley said in a patronizing voice. "Besides, there's something I want you to do." She nodded at an object on the floor near Natalie. "My cell phone. I want you to call your father and tell him to come here."

"Here? Why?"

"Because he's going to watch me kill you."

Paige whimpered. Natalie stiffened. "I will not call my father."

Constance 's hand raised to Paige's head. She held a gun. "You will call him or I'll shoot her."

"You won't," Natalie said desperately.

"Won't I? Don't forget Warren and Charlotte and Alison and Jeff. And of course your dear friend Tamara." Constance paused. "You know, I actually liked Tamara, but I still slit her throat and left her to bleed to death on a dirt road. So don't tell me what I won't do."

Natalie glared into the unflinching aqua eyes. Had they looked so hard all along and she simply hadn't noticed? Or was the difference that Constance Farley gazed openly at her now, not disguised behind the mask of sweet Ruth Meadows?

Natalie picked up the cell phone and punched in her home number. What if her father was still at the hospital, perhaps in surgery? Would Constance hold her and Paige prisoners until he finished? If so, would Natalie get a chance to overpower her? Doubtful. Constance had a gun to the child's head. Natalie had nothing except her wits, which at the moment seemed paralyzed.

On the eighth ring her father picked up, sounding breathless. "Dad."

"Just walked in the door." He paused. "What's wrong? You sound strange."

She swallowed. "I'm in trouble. Actually, Paige and I are in trouble."

"Trouble?" Andrew repeated. She heard the dread in his voice. "Just tell me."

"First of all, you must promise me you won't call the police. If you do, Paige and I will die."

"Die? Die? What in God's name are you talking about?"

"Dad, don't shout. Listen. Do not, under any circumstances, call the police."

He took a deep, shaking breath. "All right. No police. I swear. Now what is this about?"

"The murderer kidnapped Paige. She used her as bait to get me to come to The Blue Lady."

"The Blue Lady!"

"Yes. She wants you to come here, too."

"She?"

Natalie's eyes flicked to Constance 's. "Dad, it's Ruth."

"Ruth?" he said blankly. "Ruth Meadows?"

"Yes."

He emitted a little gust of air. "Natalie, this isn't funny."

"She isn't really Ruth Meadows, Dad, she's Constance Farley."

"Constance Farley? Eugene Farley's mother? Someone is pulling a stupid joke on you. I have seen Constance Farley."

Natalie lowered the phone and looked at the woman holding Paige. "My father says he's seen Constance Farley."

"Two years ago. I weighed seventy pounds more. I had long, dark hair pulled into a bun and I wore glasses. And he saw me for exactly three minutes when he came to tell my husband and me how very sorry he was that my son had not survived the surgery."

Natalie raised the phone again. "Dad-"

"I heard her," he said thinly.

"She's standing here in front of me with a gun to Paige Meredith's head. Please get here as soon as possible. I repeat, do not call the police." She paused. "And do not bring a gun-"

"A gun! I don't own a gun!"

"I know you don't." Please pick up the emphasis on you, she implored silently.

"That's enough," Constance said. "Hang up."

"Dad-"

"Hang up!" Constance shouted. Andrew must have heard her. Natalie clicked off the phone. "Lay it down." Natalie placed the instrument on the floor. "Now we wait."

Natalie looked at Paige's chalky face. "Please take the gun away from Paige's head." Natalie made her voice gentle and respectful. "You're frightening her terribly, and I'm sure she's not going to run away, are you, Paige?"