Dead of Night (Page 50)

“You’re going to kill him,” he said.

Sarah tried to shift away from him, but she couldn’t move. Her breath came shallow and fast as a scream clawed its way up her throat.

“I’m going to unfasten you,” he said. “I’m going to put the gun in your hand and you’re going to kill him.”

“You’re insane,” she whispered. “I won’t kill anyone.”

“You’ll shoot him and then turn the gun on yourself. What choice do you have? You’ve killed all those people. Even your own sister.”

His matter-of-fact tone was chilling. “No one will believe that,” she said.

He cocked his head, smiling. “Everyone will believe it. They already think you killed your father. It’s just like he said…” He nodded in Michael’s direction. “You’ve snapped.”

Sarah drew a shaky breath and lifted her head. “You’ve done all this for nothing, because I don’t even remember what happened the night my sister died.”

“He’s helping you remember.” Another nod toward Michael. “And now he has to die, too.”

“To protect Lukas. That’s why you killed those people.”

“I didn’t kill anyone.”

“Then who did?”

Another smile. “You already know the answer to that.”

She closed her eyes. “Why did he kill my sister?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

She drew another breath. “Make me understand. Let me at least have that.”

“Lukas’s father thought he was so smart and clever, but he couldn’t find the killer even though he stared him in the face every single day. That case stripped him of his pride. Took away the one thing he valued the most.”

“But why Rachel?”

“Because she was the perfect victim. She was the thing your father valued the most. He did it for you.”

Oh, dear God.

Sarah swallowed another scream. “You were both at the crime scene in New Orleans, weren’t you? You and Ashe. You both tattooed that poor woman.”

“He wasn’t very good, so I didn’t ask him to do it again. I’m glad I don’t have to let him out anymore. He was always a lot more trouble than he was worth.”

“He’s not like you, is he? You have many talents, don’t you, Jude?” This from Michael.

He turned with a cagey smile. “You can’t trick me with flattery, Dr. Garrett.”

Sarah watched him in the candlelight. He was devious, clever and sly…all the things that Michael had described. But he was also immature. He made mistakes.

“There’s a big problem with your plan,” Sarah said. “I’m not going to kill Michael, and I’m sure as hell not turning the gun on myself. So you’ll either have to do it yourself or let Ashe come out one last time to do your dirty work for you.”

“She’s right,” Michael said weakly. “You protect. You can’t kill. That’s not who you are. That’s not why you were born. Only Ashe can kill.”

“No,” Jude said angrily. “I know what you’re doing, but it won’t work.” He knelt and loosened the rope around Sarah’s body enough to free her right hand. He moved around behind her so that he could hold her in place while he tried to force the gun into her hand. Sarah clenched her fist tightly. She had no idea she had so much strength.

“Stop it!” He sounded like a petulant teenager now.

“You have to let Ashe out,” Michael said. “Let him come out to do what he was meant to do.”

Suddenly, Jude stood and, still clutching the gun, put his hands to his ears. “I said no!”

“Ashe wants to come out, doesn’t he?” Sarah said. “Let me talk to him.”

“Shut up!”

Sarah had no idea if he was talking to her or one of the voices inside his head. He spun away and started to pace.

“Ashe?”

He stopped and was silent for a moment. Then his expression altered dramatically. The killer had been let out to play.

The pacing resumed, but now his movements were those of a predatory animal.

“Ashe?”

He wouldn’t look at Sarah. He continued to ignore her when she said his name a third time. Instead, he strode over to Michael and put the gun to his head.

“Ashe, listen to me,” Sarah said desperately. “Do you recognize my voice? Do you know who I am?”

His finger was on the trigger.

“Do you remember what you once told me? You said we’re the same. Our souls are like mirror images.”

He turned at that, and his gaze met Sarah’s in the candlelight. She saw something in his eyes, a look she remembered from the past, and for a moment, she thought she had him.

Somewhere in the house, a door opened and closed very softly. Ashe turned toward the sound, and a moment later, he disappeared up the narrow stairwell.

Sarah had no idea who else was in the house. She didn’t take time to think about it. The cord around the chair was still loose, and she worked frantically to free herself before he came back. Arms first, ankles next, then find a weapon.

Hurry. Hurry!

* * *

Sean’s only weapon was the element of surprise.

He crouched against the wall, listening for the telltale footfalls on the wooden stairs so that he could time his attack. He’d only have one chance. A bullet would most likely take him down before he could regroup for a second assault.

But the man in the stairwell knew exactly where to step. He came up silently, just as he had earlier. Sean didn’t hear a sound until Clay was right outside the door.

Sean swung the drawer he’d pulled from the wardrobe as hard as he could. The wood was flimsy and rotting, but the blow caught Clay in the chest and he stumbled back. Before he could regain his balance, Sean lunged, and the two men tumbled down the stairs, landing with a hard thud at the bottom.

Sean’s head cracked against the floor, and the impact left him dazed.

* * *

“Sean!” Sarah screamed his name as she saw Ashe reach for the gun. Sean slammed the man’s arm against the floor and the weapon went flying into the shadows.

Sarah’s hands were free, and she quickly loosened the rope around her ankles. She dove for the shadows, but she couldn’t find the gun, and Ashe’s hands had closed around Sean’s throat, squeezing tighter and tighter…

Her gaze lit on the stilts. She grabbed one and swung it as hard as she could against Ashe’s head. He turned, eyes blazing, and lunged for her.

Sarah had no idea which persona he was now. All she knew was that she had to somehow stop him. She hit him again, this time with the end of the pole. The cloven hoof pressed deeply into his face before he jerked the stilt from her hand, and then he lowered his head and rammed into her with an enraged roar. They went flying back against the wall, and the impact knocked the breath from her. Sarah fell like a rag doll to the floor.

And that’s when she spotted the gun.

He saw it, too, and scooped up the weapon before she could reach it. Sean was behind him and, sensing he was cornered, Ashe pressed himself against the wall, his gaze darting fiercely from Sarah to Sean.

As the anger drained out of him, he dropped to his knees, still clinging to the weapon. Not Ashe, not Jude, but finally Lukas Clay.

Horror glinted in his eyes, along with a terrible realization.

He lifted the gun to his mouth and fired.

* * *

Sarah sat huddled in a blanket on the farmhouse steps. She’d been sitting there for a long time, but the scene before her still seemed surreal. A line of squad cars and emergency vehicles formed a long train out to the road. The twirling lights mesmerized her for a moment until she forced her gaze away.

Michael had been loaded into one of the EMT vans and was already on his way to the nearest hospital. Sean was standing behind her on the porch, talking to one of the detectives from the county sheriff’s office. Inside the house, crime scene officers from the state police were combing the rooms for evidence.

It was finally over, and yet Sarah felt more stunned than relieved. Too much had happened over the past few days. She would need time to process it. But for the moment, she tried not to think at all as she pulled the blanket more tightly around her.

Even in such a remote location, the curious had already started to gather. Following the sirens and flashing lights, they’d parked out on the road and walked across the field to the edge of the overgrown yard, which was as close as they were allowed to get.

One man stood away from the others. Derrick Fears caught Sarah’s eyes and, even from a distance, she felt the impact of his stare. Then, with a slight shrug, he turned and disappeared into the darkness.

Sean sat down beside her. “You really should go to the hospital. Head wounds can be serious.”

“Look who’s talking.”

He reached up and wiped a hand across the dried blood on his face. “Helluva night we’ve had.” His gaze searched hers for a moment, then he turned to stare out over the field. “They found Cat’s body in the cemetery, just where you said it would be.”

Sarah swallowed. “What about her friend?”

“The state police received an anonymous tip about an old storm cellar in the woods behind Clay’s property. They found the body inside. They also found what looked like a little kid’s drawings on the wall, and old scratch marks on the door.

Sarah shuddered at the image his words evoked. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about. None of this is your fault. If anyone’s to blame for Cat’s death, it’s me. I never should have dragged her into this. I never should have married her to try and get over you.” He turned then, his gaze burning into hers. “Sarah—”

She closed her eyes.

“I should have had more faith in you,” he said softly.

“How could you, when I didn’t have much faith in myself?”

“I told myself the reason I left was because I didn’t want to have to make a choice. I didn’t want to have to live with what I might find out about you. But the truth is…it was never about you. It was me. You called me an emotional coward once, remember? You were right. It wasn’t your past that scared me off. It was how I felt about you. And now it’s too late, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know how I feel about anything right now,” she said with numb detachment. “I don’t even know who I am anymore. What I’ve learned about myself, about my family, is going to change me. In ways I can’t even imagine.”

He took her hand and held it for a moment—a touch so gentle it brought tears to Sarah’s eyes. “If you ever need me…”

“I know, Sean.”

Sometime later, she walked alone across the field and through the orchard. A breeze stirred the bells over the graves, and Sarah shivered as her gaze lifted to her childhood home. The house was bathed in the cold, gray light of dawn. The charm was lost in all the shadows, the beauty hidden by a dark history she’d tried very hard to forget.

But a light shone from the kitchen window, where Esme waited for her inside. She turned when Sarah came through the door, and a moment later, bony arms wrapped her in a tight cocoon, rocking her back and forth the way she had when Sarah was little.

“I know, child,” she soothed. “I know.”