The Perfect Couple (46 page)

301

Self-loathing threatened to choke her. "No, no, I'm not okay," she said. "I'm not okay at all."

"Why not? Where are you?"

"It doesn't matter. I just...called to--to tell you..." She pictured the man she loved more than she'd ever loved anyone or anything, wearing the smile that dazzled her every time she saw it--and almost lost her nerve.

"What is it?" Sheryl prompted.

Grabbing the steering wheel, she hung on. "Colin killed Paddy, Sheryl."

"What?"

Now that she'd begun, the rest came easily. She blurted it out as if she'd been carrying it for so long she couldn't carry it another second, gulping for breath amidst her tears. "He--he buried him somewhere out in the woods. I don't know where. I didn't go with him. But I saw Paddy. I saw the blood. I saw him clean it up. Then I--"

A soft, heartbroken wail interrupted. "No!"

"I'm sorry," Tiffany whispered.

"Tell me it isn't true," Sheryl begged.

Tiffany wished she could. What had she allowed herself to become?

What had she allowed Colin to become? Or had he possessed the soul of a killer all along? "It's true," she said. "And there are others." She did her best to describe Colin's other pets, but Sheryl didn't seem to care about that.

"Why?" she asked, but she was pleading for an explanation no one could give her, least of all Tiffany. She had no idea why Colin found joy in the things he did. As much as she loved him, as much as she admired him in so many ways, she'd never really understood him.

"Why does anyone do what he's done? Because...something's missing." Realizing that she'd parked near a steep precipice, Tiffany got out and peered over the edge.

"Oh God," Sheryl wailed. "Oh God."

Tiffany moved closer to the drop-off, watching as some of the dirt beneath her toes crumbled and fell away. Maybe she hadn't loved Colin as much as she'd always thought. Maybe she was in love with the idea of being loved. She'd done everything she'd done to make someone finally care about her. But it hadn't worked because Colin was incapable of caring about anyone.

Suddenly, she started to laugh.

"What is it?" Sheryl said.

"He was right about me."

"What do you mean?"

302

"I am stupid."

The tenor of Sheryl's voice changed. "Tiffany, what about the missing girl?"

"Samantha Duncan?" The wind, cooler now that evening approached, ruffled her hair. It was beautiful here. One of the most beautiful places on earth.

"Where is she?"

"Colin has her and her mother. He's taking them to a cabin in Chester."

"Where in Chester?"

"I don't know, but his friend Tommy Tuttle does."

"Colin's not going to...to kill them, is he? He killed Paddy because...because they had some sort of argument, right? It wasn't a cold-blooded, calculated murder."

"He killed Paddy because Paddy figured it out, because Paddy guessed the truth. And he killed that other kid, like I told you. He's going to kill again unless you stop him."

"This can't be real," Sheryl muttered. "This can't be happening."

Tiffany understood. The world had taken on a surreal quality for her, too. It'd just been surreal for so long she'd stopped noticing.

But she was noticing now. She wouldn't be going back to her nice home in Rocklin, wouldn't be telling anyone she was married to a successful lawyer, wouldn't be flaunting her new diamond ring or hoping and praying that going without the next candy bar would finally make her perfect enough to satisfy her husband.

She wouldn't have any of those things. But neither would she die a slow death in prison.

"Call the police," she said and snapped her phone shut. Then she got back in her car, floored the gas pedal while it was still in Park and popped the transmission into Drive.

Crazy thing was...she wanted Colin even as the car plummeted into the ravine.

Sheryl Bell's call came while Jonathan was driving back to Sacramento. He hadn't wanted to leave Paddy's cabin--it was where Zoe's trail had gone cold--but he'd given Glen a ride back to Nyack. Now he wasn't sure what else to do. He had no clue where Colin might've taken Sam and Zoe, no clue where to go next. Ever since he'd gotten back into an area that had cell-phone coverage, he'd been calling Colin and Tiffany's home phone as well as Colin's cell phone--incessantly--but neither of them picked 303

up.

He'd tried Jasmine, too, but she couldn't tell him any more. He needed to find them fast, she said. But he'd already known that.

"I can tell you where Colin is," Sheryl announced the minute he said hello.

Jonathan slammed on his brakes. "Where?"

"Chester, up near Lake Almanor."

That had to be two hours away, at least. Probably three, what with the winding roads. Jonathan tried to work out the best way to get there. Up through Reno? Had to be. It'd take forever to go around the other way....

"Why Chester?" he asked.

"He's planning to stay in a friend's rental house. It's such a dump it's been empty for months."

"Who told you this?"

"Tiffany."

"Tiffany?" he repeated in surprise. "I assumed she'd be with him." He was positive she'd been in on everything up to this point. She'd given Colin an alibi for Paddy's murder, hadn't she?

"No."

Jonathan turned around at the next exit. He had GPS on his phone, but he could drive as far as Reno before he had to use it. "Where is she, then?"

Had they split up for a reason? Did she have Sam, and Colin had Zoe?

"I'm afraid something's happened to her."

"What?"

Sheryl had been holding up pretty well, but at this she began to cry.

"She--she wasn't herself when she called me. She told me everything. Then she hung up and that was it. I've called her number at least twenty times but I get no answer."

"Have you reported what she told you to the police?"

"Yes, of course. But...I knew you were looking for that girl and I thought you'd be interested, too."

Forced to slow as he approached one semi trying to pass another on the two-lane highway, he took the shoulder. "I am. Thank you."

She sniffed. "Tiffany told me Paddy's dead."

Jonathan had suspected as much. "I'm sorry."

A long silence ensued during which she struggled to come to grips with her emotions. "It's over. I'll have to live with what Colin's done. Just--"

her voice broke "--just make sure you catch him, okay? Make sure you catch him and put him away before he can hurt anyone else."

"I'll do that," Jonathan promised. But whether or not he could 304

accomplish it before Colin killed Zoe and Sam remained to be seen.

Feeling the same terrible dread he'd experienced the night he'd received that panicked call from Maria, when she'd whispered that she needed him to come and get her, he punched the gas pedal. He'd arrived too late to save Maria.

He would not be too late for Zoe and Sam....

His injured nose and the fight he'd had with Tiffany over her refusal to stay behind and wait for the police had taken the fun out of what he'd planned for this evening. Colin got to Chester just as it was turning dark--

he'd made good time--but the anticipation he'd felt was gone. He could no longer breathe through his nose, swallowed blood every time he tried. And his head was aching like a son of a bitch.

"I can't believe what that whore did to me," he muttered as he parked beneath some trees. He'd probably have to get a nose job, and nose jobs weren't cheap. How could he afford surgery? He had to assume he was unemployed. He hadn't heard the words You're fired yet, but it was only a matter of time. Besides, about a hundred calls from Jonathan Stivers, Misty or someone else at the firm had been trying to reach him on his cell for the past couple of hours. No doubt, Scovil knew he'd left early.

He'd finally silenced the ringer.

His headlights illuminated a dark, poorly built house, but he scarcely looked at it. Jamming the gearshift into Park, he sat in the car, thinking about losing his job and possibly his nice house. Did he know what he was doing? Was he as impervious to reversals as he'd thought?

No. He'd made a terrible mistake. Because of Zoe. Without her, he would've stayed at work, finished the contracts and somehow won Mr.

Scovil's confidence. If not for Zoe, he'd still be able to say he was part of a prestigious law firm. Even if he got another job, it wouldn't be the same.

He'd lose the instant respect he received when he mentioned the names of his senior partners. And if Scovil fired him, he might not get on anywhere else. Most of the attorneys downtown knew each other. Word would get around. That meant he'd have to open his own practice. But he couldn't be successful without clients.

How would he win clients away from the big boys if his reputation was trashed?

Sam was asleep on the seat beside him, but he spoke to her anyway.

"You just wait," he said, turning off the engine. He'd offered to kill her quickly. Zoe should've taken him up on that. Instead she'd broken his nose, and now he'd make sure Sam died a slow death--right in front of her mother.

305

First, however, he had to take more painkillers. He'd gone into the bathroom at the gas station and tried to do a line of coke. He knew he wouldn't need painkillers if he could get high. But attempting to snort caused more bleeding.

By the time he'd carried Sam into the cabin and was on his way back for Zoe, Colin was so depressed he didn't feel like torturing either one of them. He wished he'd brought Tiffany along. She always knew what to do when he didn't feel well. She'd rub his neck tirelessly, put him to sleep.

Maybe he'd leave Zoe and Sam here and head home to his wife....

No, that would require more driving. He'd call Tiffany and have her come to him. That was it. She could skip work tomorrow, call in sick again.

He needed her. He'd feel better after he apologized for being such a jerk.

She'd said she hated him, and he'd made her pay for it, but he regretted that now. Tiffany hadn't meant it. She was the only person in the world who truly loved him.

What'd gotten into him lately?

Too much coke...

Taking his BlackBerry from his pocket, he stood by the trunk of the car and checked for service. Pleasantly surprised to find he could make a call, he dialed his wife.

"Hello, this is Tiffany Bell. I can't get to the phone right now but leave me a message and I'll call you back."

He waited for the beep. "Hey, why aren't you picking up? I miss you, Tiff. I was an asshole at the cabin today, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done what I did. It wasn't me--it was the drugs. I wish you were here. Can you come up?"

He expected her to call him right back. She never let it go more than a few minutes before she returned his calls. But he'd dragged Zoe in from the car, tied her up in the back room with Sam, then watched TV for an hour, and Tiffany still hadn't called.

At that point, he began to call her again and again. Once, twice, three times. Where the hell was she? Four, five, six times. Did she think this was some sort of game? That she could punish him for mistreating her? She'd caused everything when she let Rover get away. That was the first domino to fall.

"It's your own fault!" he screamed into the phone. "Don't you dare think you can stonewall me, Tiff." Was she with Tommy? Was she enjoying herself too much to care that he was trying to get hold of her? Maybe Tommy was treating her more kindly, showing her what it was like to be with someone gentle.

306

He could see her falling for a guy like that, and it made him sick.

"You'll be sorry," he told her. "I'll drive down there and--"

The phone beeped, letting him know he'd run out of time for his message. He couldn't even bitch her out right now.

Exhausted and truly worried, he sank onto the couch. He'd taken some extra pain-reliever tablets, but it wasn't enough. He needed more. And then he needed to drive home. Forget Zoe and Sam. He'd kill them both so he could go find his wife.

Standing, he went to the kitchen to get a knife.

Zoe huddled close to her daughter, trying to give her as much warmth and comfort as possible. Sam still wore the swimsuit she'd had on when she was kidnapped, and it was far too cold in a house with no heat.

"Everything's going to be okay," she murmured, to keep her as calm as possible. But Zoe wasn't at all sure everything would be okay. Sammie was ill. She needed help and she needed it fast.

What could she do? Zoe struggled against the rope that bound her, as she had since Colin had dragged her in here, but the slightest movement caused excruciating pain in her injured hand, which had swollen to a monstrous size. The rope cut off the flow of blood and the swelling had grown worse, but it was her jaw that hurt the most. Colin had kicked her in the face. She remembered that now.

No wonder she'd lost consciousness....

"Sammie? You okay, baby?" she murmured.

Her daughter's breathing was shallow.

"I'm...okay, Mommy," she whispered.

Zoe had to concentrate so she wouldn't pass out again. Using the less damaged side of her face, she nuzzled her child's forehead. It was a blessing just to be able to touch her. "I'm so grateful to be with you."

"Even...here? Like this?" came the soft reply.

"Even here."

"I love you, Mommy."

Zoe breathed deeply, willing herself to remain lucid for Sam's sake.

Ignore the pain. Hang on.... She had to come up with a plan, do something, before it was too late.

"I love you...too," she said and then the door swung wide and slammed against the inside wall.

307

"W hat the hell is taking so long?" Jonathan shouted into the phone.

He'd been traveling for nearly three hours--this was his sixth call to the Chester Police Department--and they still hadn't visited the rental house.

"What do you think, buddy?" came the police chief's irritated response. "That I can pull the address out of my ass?"

"Nothing quite so spectacular. You've got Tommy Tuttle's name, address, employer and phone number. Maybe it's just me, but I'd probably call and ask him how the hell to get to his cousin's place. Did that bright idea occur to anyone in the past three hours?"