She paused and re-read Numbers 14:9, where the two of them tried to stop the fear and discouragement spreading like cancer through the people. Aloud, she read, “Only do not rebel against the Lord. And do not be afraid of the people of the land, because we will swallow them up. Their protection is gone, but the Lord is with us. Do not be afraid of them.”
Maybe that was the word God wanted Emily to hear today. That she need not fear the men who schemed against her. That she was not a grasshopper. That she had the King of the Universe fighting on her side. Her enemies would be swallowed up. Their protection would be gone. She had nothing to fear.
She prayed that passage of Scripture would apply to her life. The Israelites had rejected God’s message and wound up wandering the desert for forty years. She was tired of desert life. She wanted to be like Joshua and Caleb. She wanted to trust God.
Her foot ached, reminding her why she should doubt. She thought of the message the killer had written on the wall of her violated home—Criss-Cross. It was just the kind of thing to send her over the edge, and it almost had. Was that what Bo and Carter wanted? To make her a junkie again?
She heard a knock on the door. “Who is it?”
“Me,” Lance said. “Can I come in?”
“Sure.”
The door opened. Lance looked tired. He must not be sleeping well on the couch. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine.”
“But … why are you and Mom not talking?”
She looked away. “I just needed to be by myself. I’m studying.”
Lance looked down at the Bible in front of her. “Studying what?”
“People with integrity.” With the word, she burst into tears.
Lance stood there quietly. Finally, he came in and sat on her bed. “Why does that make you cry?”
She shook her head and wiped her face. “Because I want integrity. But it’s like I have my old self still strapped to my back, and I just can’t shake her off.”
“What happened? What did you do?”
She sighed and told him the story. His face fell when she got to the part about taking the prescription to the pharmacy. “Oh, no. Emily.”
“I didn’t go through with it. I changed my mind before I picked it up, and I canceled it. But Mom found out, and she’s pretty upset.”
“No wonder.”
“Right. No wonder.” She wiped her eyes, drew in a deep, cleansing breath. “I’m working on being the kind of person that God can bless. But it’s hard because of the choices I made back then. I let myself get caught in this. I put myself there.”
“You had a lot of problems, with Dad dying and all.”
“So did you. But you made better choices.” She locked her gaze into her brother’s, wanting him to understand. “I liked the way the drugs made me feel. And I made decisions … one after another … decisions that made me lose control. It didn’t happen to me. I chose it, and then one day I couldn’t choose anymore.”
“But you did choose. You quit. And even though you almost lost it today, you didn’t.”
“The thing is, that guy who’s been smoking dope in front of you … he’ll pressure you. You make one decision to use any kind of drug, and the next thing you know, your choices are gone. You think you’re immune, that you won’t do anything harder. But when you’re high, you don’t have strong values. You don’t have hard rules. You just have your appetite, and you fall for any seduction that comes along.”
“Tyson doesn’t influence me.”
“Not now. But you keep going places with him and he will.”
“So now you’re lecturing me? I didn’t do anything.”
“I know. Just be careful.” She knew that jumping on him wasn’t necessary. He had his head on straighter than she did.
Suddenly she was tired. So tired. The weight of the last few days was dragging her down. “I didn’t kill those women, you know.”
He met her eyes. “I never for one second thought you did.”
“Anybody knowing my history would question it.”
“You’re not who you were. End of story.” He got up. “I’m hungry. Wonder if there’s anything to eat.”
Grateful for the period at the end of his sentence, Emily watched him leave, then pressed her face into her hands. No matter what, she had to trust God. She went back to her Bible, searching for the strength and the courage to get through another hour.
Chapter 40
Lance couldn’t fight his melancholy at school the next day, and when Tyson approached him in the hallway at lunchtime, he had little patience.
“My friend, Lance,” Tyson said, thrusting out his fist to bump with Lance. But Lance kept his hand in his pocket. “If I didn’t know better, dude, I’d think you don’t like me.” Humor rippled in his tone.
Lance just kept walking.
Tyson was full of energy, trotting in front of Lance, turning and walking backward. But he looked like death warmed over. His eyes were sunken, like a junkie on a days-long high, but Lance resisted the urge to push him out of his way.
“What do you want?” Lance asked.
“Just to be friends, man,” Tyson said, hitting his own chest and throwing his hands out. “I like you, man. I don’t care what the jocks say about you.”
“I don’t care what they say about me either.”
“I looked you up on the Internet. Saw the articles about your shooting. I know it’s all true, man.”
Lance’s steps slowed. It wasn’t as if he’d spent a lot of time trying to convince people about what had happened to him back in Jeff City. But when someone acknowledged that it was true, it did him good.
“I’ve been telling everybody, dude,” Tyson said. “You’re a cool guy.”
Lance stopped walking and stared at him.
“What do I have to do to be your friend?” Tyson asked him.
Lance didn’t know what the guy was up to, but he didn’t trust him. “Leave April alone.”
“Hey, I’m just her friend. You overreacted last night, man. It’s not like you caught her shooting crack.”
“If you care about her, back off, okay?”
“Hey, you’ve got problems. If you loosened up, people would like you better. I can hook you up. A little stress reliever to help you forget your sister killed somebody.”
Lance’s muscles went rigid. “She did not kill anybody, so shut your stinkin’ mouth.”
Again, Tyson’s hands came up. “Sorry, man. I didn’t say that right. I’m sure she’s cool.”
“Get out of my way,” Lance bit out.
Lance pushed past him. He thought of calling Kent and telling him that a slimy drug dealer was slithering down the halls of the high school. But Tyson was too smart to be caught that way. He wouldn’t have more than one hit on him—just enough for a small misdemeanor charge, and he’d be free again within hours. Lance knew how guys like him operated. They kept their stash nearby, in a place that was easy to reach, but never on them. His dopers had to come to a second meeting at a more discreet location to buy from him. He’d never have enough on him to be busted for long.
Brooding, Lance went into the cafeteria. The smell of beef stew assaulted him, making him feel sick. He headed for the salads and found April there.
Her smile almost made him feel better. “Hey, Lance. You okay?”
He shrugged. “Fine.”
“So … you want to go to Aaron Gray’s party tonight?”
He shrugged. Aaron Gray was a basketball player whose parents were millionaires. Lance didn’t have a clue why the guy went to public school. The party was for the whole junior class, but Lance hardly knew him. “Not really.”
“Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“I have a lot going on.”
He took his tray and headed to an empty table. April followed. “How’s Emily?”
“Okay. She broke her foot. Like she needed more bad luck.”
“She must be really depressed.”
“Yeah.
I hope she doesn’t have to repeat the semester. But I guess that’s the least of her worries.”
“Have they caught the killer yet?”
“Nope.”
“Then she might really have to go back to jail?” she whispered.
Lance just stared at his food. “Can we change the subject?”
“Yeah. Sure.” April took a bite, her soft eyes on him. “Come on and go to the party with me tonight. I don’t want to go by myself. It’ll get your mind off things.”
“Tyson hasn’t offered you a ride?” he said sarcastically.
She took the blow. “I don’t want to go with him.”
“Good.” There was hope. He should wash his hands of her for smoking dope with Tyson. But she was weak and down, and Tyson clearly had taken advantage. Maybe Lance shouldn’t be so hard on her.
He drew in a long breath. “Maybe I could get my mom’s car.”
April’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”
He grinned. “I’ll text her and see.”
The Grays’ house reflected their wealth. Aaron had bragged often about the ten-thousand-square-foot mansion with countless rooms. The party spilled onto the back lawn and around the pool, though it was too cold to swim.
As he and April walked up the drive from where valets had parked his car, Lance’s anxiety kicked into hyperdrive. April, who’d grown up here, found friends just inside the house and dashed toward them. Lance stood alone for a moment, then forced himself to head toward the kitchen.
The counters were filled with bottles of everything from Corona beer to Jim Beam. Clearly, the host’s parents weren’t around … or else they had no problem with teenagers getting drunk in their home. Lance found the sodas and poured himself a Coke.
He stepped out of the kitchen and tried to find a place to get out of the way. He missed his friends in Jeff City.
Sitting alone, watching his classmates drink and dance, he decided that he shouldn’t have come. Why had he been so flattered when April asked him? It wasn’t like a date. She wasn’t paying any attention to him. Maybe she just considered him a project, someone who needed a friend, so she’d made the sacrifice.
He saw a table of food on the back patio and ambled toward it. A couple of people he knew from class stood in front of the chips and salsa. They looked sober and sane, so he went toward them. But as he approached, they walked away. He wasn’t sure if they’d seen him and were avoiding him or if they just hadn’t noticed. He set his drink down and filled a plate with some chips and dip, then headed for a free chair in a corner of the patio.
As he sat down, he saw Tyson coming in, newly arrived and wild-eyed. He looked worse than he had earlier. Several of Lance’s classmates greeted the doper like they’d been waiting for him. He was sure to score big tonight.
Lance sat alone for a while, scanning the crowd for April, but after a while, he realized he’d completely lost track of her—and Tyson had disappeared, too. He should just leave, but first he had to make sure she had a ride home. Irritated, he went looking for her. He found one of her friends in the kitchen, mixing rum and Sprite. “Scarlet, do you know where April is?”
“I think they’re in the study,” she said.
They? Who was they?
He crossed the crowded living room toward the foyer, looking for something that looked like a study. A door just off a massive hallway was closed. Maybe that was it.
He opened the door, looked inside at the cluster of people there. A joint was being passed around the circle, its smoke clouding the room.
Lance stepped back, and April shot up. “Lance?”
Lance looked from her to Tyson, who was grinning as he lit another joint and passed it down.
“‘Sup, Lance?” he asked. “Come in and have a toke.” His laughter cracked through the room.
Lance ignored him and closed the door. He was outa here. He headed for the front door, but behind him, the study door flew open and April dashed out. “Lance! Don’t go.”
Lance didn’t turn back as he trotted down the steps to the drive.
“Lance! Please wait. I just took one hit.”
“I’m going home,” he said over his shoulder. He found the car and pulled his keys out of his pocket. “Find a ride.”
“No, I’ll come with you,” she said.
He unlocked the door and April jumped into the passenger seat. “I braced myself for alcohol being here,” Lance said, “but I didn’t expect dope. I thought you told me it was just a mistake when you did it before, that you weren’t gonna do it anymore.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
He drove in silence for a moment, unable to look at her. “My sister started with things like this, you know. And then one day at a party just like that one, somebody handed her a pill and said, ‘Take it. It’ll make you feel better.’ So she took it and it calmed her, and she thought that was her answer. She could be a big party girl, do whatever she wanted, have so much fun, if she would just get high before she went. But you know what happened? Before she knew it, she wasn’t taking it because it made her feel good. She was taking it because if she didn’t she would puke her guts out. And she spent every minute of the day trying to figure out where she was gonna get her next hit. And then the pills stopped being enough. So she started using heroin and cocaine and anything else she could get her hands on. She threw my mom and me under the bus and lost all her friends.”
April stared at him in the darkness.
“My mother raised her with perfect teeth, and now she has fourteen fillings in her mouth. She’d hang out in rat holes of apartments and dope houses, shooting poison into her veins. It all started as no big deal. Just one hit. One joint.
One pill.”
April set her elbow on the window and let out a long breath. “I know you’ve seen some bad stuff. But I’ve been really depressed about my parents, and I just wanted to feel better.”
“You think you got problems? My friend Jordan was a second-generation meth addict. Her mother traded Jordan’s baby for drugs, and Jordan and her baby almost died. People like her and my sister are fighting for their lives every day, and you have the stupidity to flirt with it like it’s no big thing. I can’t hang out with you, April. I was gonna ask you to homecoming, but I don’t want to anymore.”
She turned her rounded eyes to him. “Really? You were? I would’ve said yes.”
That didn’t make him feel better. “I should save my money anyway. Trying to buy a car.”
She wiped her face. He fought the disappointment surging through him. She was his only friend, and he hated being alone.
But he’d had enough stupidity in his life. Best to move on now, while he had a choice.
Chapter 41
It was all Kent could do to stay out of Emily’s case. Professionalism dictated that he leave things to Andy and Strand, but when he heard them discussing it in the office, he couldn’t help weighing in.
“I just got a call from the print tech,” Andy was saying. “He says the pill bottle Kent bagged at the Covington house didn’t have any prints on it but Kent’s.”
“None?” Strand asked. “Not even Emily’s?”
“Nope. Said it looked like it was polished clean.”
“I didn’t expect Emily’s prints,” Kent said from across the room. “Emily didn’t touch it. But why wouldn’t it have any prints at all, even from the pharmacist?”
“Pharmacist was probably wearing gloves.”
“But wiped clean? That’s not likely. Someone would have touched that bottle.”
“You’re not on the case, Harlan,” Strand said. “We’ve got this.”
“I’m just sayin’. That’s the kind of thing someone who planted that bottle in her house would’ve done. Her name was on the bottle, so why would Emily bother to wipe her prints but not hide her name … or hide the bottle, for that matter? It doesn’t add up. But it does add up that the guy who broke into her house and wrote on the wall and stole her necklace could have left the bottle.?
??
Strand leaned back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head. “Hey, Kent? We get it. You don’t think she did it.”
“I see her all the time,” he said. “She’s sober and rational. Even if she had some reason to commit these crimes, she wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave pills out on her counter and a necklace at the crime scene. If you considered that possibility, then you’d start looking at people who have it in for her. Maybe others at Haven House where she works—somebody who knew about that movie and heard that conversation. Criss-cross is a huge clue …”
“Let us do this, Kent,” Andy cut in. “Trust me, man. We’ve worked together a long time. You know I’m thorough.”
Yes, Andy was thorough … sometimes. But he could miss obvious things. Kent got the Rolaids out of his drawer. Throwing two into his mouth, he prayed they would listen.
Chapter 42
He had never had more fun. Power and invincibility surged through the Avenger’s veins with the rapid beat of his heart. He’d gotten away with everything, as though he were invisible, stealing around like a spirit … like a god.
He had taken control of his destiny and the destiny of others, and he had so much more to do. So many people who deserved his vengeance.
His mind raced with possibilities. He couldn’t rest just yet. There was more … there was Emily.
She’d thought moving to that cop’s house would protect her, but he knew where she was. She’d been intent on protecting others from him at Haven House. Now they’d see if she could protect her family.
He sped down the road with no worries of police pulling him over. He was all powerful. They couldn’t see him. He was like a shooting star, like a meteorite hurling toward an unsuspecting target. When he was ready to wreak more havoc on Emily and her family, they wouldn’t be able to stop him. He defied all laws … all senses.
As he drove, he inhaled the crack in his bong pipe, felt it shooting through his synapses, igniting every nerve fiber.