Page 27 of Creep


  “What’s going on with you?” Sheila asked, tentative. “Something feels different.”

  “Nothing. Just tired.”

  “Is somebody onto you?” She kept her voice light. She knew he’d only talk if she provoked him a little. But not too much. “You seem really tense.”

  Ethan didn’t move. “Nobody’s onto me. Nobody’s looking for you.”

  “I’m not talking about me. I’m talking about you. Your girlfriend has to suspect something by now.”

  He opened one eye. “Don’t you fucking talk to me about Abby.”

  Ah, she’d hit a nerve. That was good. But she had to be careful not to push him too quickly. “If I see the changes in you, then so has she. You’re exhausted and stressed. She’s not stupid, Ethan. You can’t keep the hours you keep without her noticing.”

  He opened his eyes all the way. “Your point?”

  “Whatever your plan is, it’s time.” Sheila paused for effect. “You do have a plan, don’t you?” She allowed the smallest bit of accusation to seep into her voice.

  “Things have changed.” His voice was clipped.

  His body language was more telling than his words. He had grown stiff, his hands clenched into tight fists; thankfully they didn’t move toward the gun.

  She took a deep breath. Her next move was risky. “Ethan, if you wanted to kill me, I’d be dead by now. Just like if you wanted to destroy my career, you’d have released the video. So let’s stop pretending you want to hurt me. We both know you don’t. You brought me here because you were pissed off and trying to teach me a lesson. And God knows you have.” She leaned forward. “We still care about each other. You know we do.”

  Ethan shook his head slowly. “You’re trying to mind-fuck me.”

  “Have I tried to escape?” She hoped she sounded sincere. “Have I given you a hard time about anything? I know how smart you are. I know I can’t bullshit you.”

  “You tried to take the gun from me. When we were, you know . . .” His voice faded, his eyes darting to her face briefly before flitting away.

  “I already told you, I wasn’t trying anything.” Sheila forced just the right note of exasperation into her voice. “I had to move it, it was digging into my leg. Ethan, you can trust me.”

  He stared at her, then grinned. The smile did not touch his eyes. “Impressive, Dr. Tao.”

  “I mean every word I say.”

  “You’re making me angry. I suggest you shut up right now.”

  “But, Ethan—”

  “Shut up!” he roared, standing up.

  Startled, Sheila cringed into the pillows.

  He took a few steps toward the bed and pointed a shaking finger at her. “You—all of you—you make me fucking crazy, you know that? You all think you’re so intelligent, so unique and so exceptional, but you’re all the same.”

  “Who, Ethan?” She kept her voice steady, wishing she had something to hide behind. She pulled a pillow to her chest. “Who are you talking about? Me and who?”

  He ignored her and started pacing the room again, his hand moving to the butt of the gun. “You want to get out of here so you can go back to your perfect little life, with your perfect job and your perfect man. Well, why should I let you? Why do you get to be happy, Sheila? What makes you so fucking special?”

  “I never said—”

  “Shut up!” he shrieked, clapping his hands over his ears like a little boy. “Shut up shut up shut up!”

  Sheila snapped her mouth closed. She had no idea what he was ranting about, but he was completely uncorked. It was time to back off.

  “We had a good thing going, you and me. And then you had to go and ruin it by getting engaged to that fat fuck.” He was talking to her but not looking at her. “And, okay, I could have dealt with it, no big deal. You want to marry him, marry him. What the fuck do I care, I have a girlfriend, what does it change? But then you ended it with me. You wanted me out of your life completely. For him. How was I supposed to take that? I’m supposed to just shrink away, act like it’s all okay? I had feelings for you.” His fingers tightened around the base of the gun.

  She cowered on the bed, not sure what he was going to do. “I had feelings for you, too.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “Ethan, I’m sorry.” She was beginning to sweat. “I handled it all wrong. I see that now. I . . . disrespected you and said things I shouldn’t have. It was my fault. If I could go back and change it, I would. But I didn’t think you cared. If I’d known you did, I never would have made the decision I made.” She took a breath and looked up at him. “I loved you, Ethan.”

  He stopped pacing. Sheila had no idea if he’d heard her.

  His jaw worked. “When I graduated, I thought . . . I thought we could have made something of it.”

  “We still can. It’s not too late.”

  He started pacing again. “No, you picked Morris. Morris with the big-ass Cadillac and big-ass house and big-ass bank job and big-ass bank account.”

  How did he know all that? It certainly hadn’t come from her. Ethan’s obsession with Morris was scaring the shit out of her. Every conversation seemed to lead right back to him.

  “Do you still love him?” Ethan asked.

  Sheila couldn’t think of an answer fast enough and his face transformed into something ugly.

  “You do. Your hesitation says it all.”

  “God, Ethan, I’m not a robot!” She got up off the bed and approached him. “I don’t have switches I can turn on and off. Ending it with you was agonizing. It was the hardest decision I’ve ever made. But I thought Morris was the sensible choice. Think about it logically, from my perspective. I’m telling you the truth.” She reached her hand out.

  “I’m sorry, but you can’t have your old life back,” Ethan said, ignoring her hand and taking a small step back. “Nobody misses you. Nobody gives a fuck that you’re gone. They already replaced you at the university. Got some hotshot professor they snagged from the University of Washington to fill your big shoes. Oh, what was her name again . . . ?” He snapped his fingers several times in succession, like a jazz musician feeling the beat. “Linda something or other. Brennan. Brandon.”

  “Branson,” Sheila said, deflated. “Linda Branson.” She had no idea if what Ethan was saying was true, but it was definitely plausible. Dr. Linda Branson was indeed a hotshot professor who’d left the University of Washington to write a bestselling book on childhood phobias. Of course PSSU would have snapped her up, especially now that Sheila was out of the picture. What timing.

  “And Morris.” A small smile was on Ethan’s lips. “I can guarantee Morris the fat fuck isn’t looking for you, either. He’s so over you. You never should have told him about your sex addiction. I’ll bet he was glad as hell when you canceled the wedding, so he didn’t have to do it. He probably thinks he dodged a bullet.”

  “Well, that’s where I’ll have to disagree,” Sheila said, despite her fear. “You don’t know Morris. He’s very loyal. Maybe he hasn’t yet, but he will start looking for me. He’ll want answers, and when he starts digging, he’ll figure out that something bad happened. He won’t let it go until he finds me. And he’s a juggernaut when he gets going.” She felt her chin jut out defiantly. “You won’t be able to stop him.”

  Another nerve hit. Ethan stopped pacing and turned to her, his gray eyes completely devoid of the flecks of light that made people look human. The hairs on Sheila’s neck stood up and she cursed herself for opening her big mouth. Oh, God. What was he going to do now? Stupid, stupid, stupid!

  “Morris is dead,” Ethan said calmly. “I already killed him.”

  “No.” Her heart started hammering so hard she couldn’t breathe. “You’re lying.”

  “Why do you think I’m so sure he’s not looking for you?” Ethan’s lips curled up in a sneer. “I made it look like an accident. He started drinking again when you left him, no surprise there. So I fucked a little with the brake pads on his big, shiny Cadi
llac. Five nights ago when it was raining really hard, he veered off the freeway and wrapped himself around a utility pole. Died instantly. When they pulled him out, they could smell the whiskey on him. There was an open bottle of Johnnie Walker on the passenger seat floor.” Ethan smiled, pleased with himself. “The good stuff—Red label, I think. Or was it Black? I can’t remember.”

  “You’re lying,” Sheila said again, feeling dizzy. “I don’t believe you. Morris was innocent. He hasn’t done anything to hurt you, and I’ve been cooperating, haven’t I? There was no reason to kill him.”

  Ethan stepped toward her. “You don’t believe me? You don’t think I’m capable?” His smile was frosty and knowing. He tilted her head up with his finger. “After all the planning I did to get you here, and after all this time keeping you here, you don’t think I can do any fucking thing I set my mind to?”

  His words were nothing short of a scream. His spittle sprayed her face.

  Sheila struggled to keep calm, but her insides felt like mush.

  “The funeral was yesterday.” He was calm again as he took her arm and led her back toward the bed. She didn’t protest. “Remind me to bring you the obituary from the Times. They used a nice photo, the one from your office—he’s in the red plaid shirt barbecuing something? Hate to admit it, but he looked quite handsome.”

  It couldn’t be real. No, please, it couldn’t be. But God help her, she was starting to believe him. Ethan’s words rang true, right down to the brand of whiskey Morris liked. He was right—why wouldn’t he have killed Morris? He hated Morris, and he’d killed before. It was all in a day’s work.

  She felt her mind spin out of control.

  If Morris was gone, truly gone, then she was on her own. Just as Ethan said, nobody would be looking for her, nobody would care where she’d gone. And it wouldn’t matter anyway, because a life without Morris was too horrible to contemplate.

  She had nothing left to lose.

  Sheila’s voice was steady despite the stream of hot tears running down her cheeks. “Ethan, make love to me.”

  Ethan’s head snapped toward her in surprise. “What did you say?”

  “You brought me here to get me away from Morris. And then you killed him. As much as that hurts me, and it does,” she said, pausing to lick the salty tears that had landed on her lips, “I know you’ve done this out of love. So make the hurt go away. Make what you did worth it.”

  Ethan saw her heartbreak, saw her pain, saw her desire. This is what she wanted him to see. She was offering herself to him, despite the horrifying news about Morris.

  It worked. He believed.

  He took her in his arms. It took all of her strength to let herself melt against him, to touch him, to kiss the lips of the man who personified the word monster.

  And when his urgent hands roamed her body, she closed her eyes and lay back on the bed, retreating to her happy place, where the sun was shining and Morris was waiting for her.

  CHAPTER : 38

  The coffee at Seattle PD’s East Precinct was bitter and strong. Jerry suspected it was because nobody ever bothered to rinse out the coffeemaker, which had been a staple in this office ever since he could remember.

  Jerry sipped the awful coffee, then hit redial on his cell phone. It rang exactly five times before going to voice mail again. Morris wasn’t picking up. Had he gone to bed, or back to Lake Stevens? Jerry finally left a message and snapped his phone shut.

  It had been awhile since he’d been in the precinct’s control room, but everything looked—and smelled, for that matter—exactly the same. Same beige walls, same gunmetal-gray desks, same beige linoleum. He watched the computer monitor in front of him, which displayed a clear shot of Interview Room 3.

  Torrance and his partner were about to begin an interview with Abby Maddox, Ethan Wolfe’s girlfriend. Jerry wasn’t officially supposed to be here, but considering how closely he’d been working with Morris, Torrance knew better than to shut his ex-partner out.

  The young woman was sitting at the table in the middle of the small room, her shoulder-length black hair sleek and shiny under the harsh fluorescent lights. Her skin was so pale and translucent, she appeared almost ghostly in the monitor. Jerry had gotten a glimpse of her as she passed him in the main hall and was struck by how beautiful she was up close—supermodel gorgeous. Not Jerry’s type exactly, but undeniably good-looking—tall, slender, with deep blue eyes and full lips. A striking contrast to the other woman in the interview room, Torrance’s new partner. The very blond and very perky Kimberley Kellogg was steadfastly staring at the interviewee with her notebook open and pen ready.

  “You sure you don’t want any coffee? Soda? Water?” Torrance asked Maddox.

  “I’m fine,” she answered in a husky voice, though it was obviously a lie. She was sitting up straight in the metal chair. “I just don’t understand why I’m here. Why couldn’t we have done this at my apartment? Two police officers show up at my door in the middle of the night and they wouldn’t tell me what’s going on—”

  “Thank you for being so cooperative.” Torrance’s tone was pleasant. He was sitting directly across from Maddox, his smile friendly. “We need some information from you. You’re not under arrest or in any kind of trouble.”

  “Do I need a lawyer?”

  “Of course not,” Torrance said. “You can leave anytime you like. We just want to ask you a few questions about your boyfriend.”

  “Ethan?” Maddox’s pretty face was troubled. Her gaze shifted back and forth between the two detectives. “Why, what’d he do?”

  “Who says he did anything?” Kellogg said, and Torrance shot his partner a look.

  “We think he might know something about the disappearance of Dr. Sheila Tao.” Torrance drummed his fingers lightly on the table. “Do you know who she is?”

  Maddox’s eyes were wide and frightened. Jerry felt sorry for her. “She’s his graduate adviser. He works for her. She left town, I thought. Ethan said she was sick.”

  Torrance and Kellogg said nothing.

  “Oh, God.” Maddox’s hands shook and she clutched her large purse, which was sitting on the table in front of her. “Oh, God, I knew something was up. I knew it.”

  Torrance glanced up at the camera. Alone in the control room, Jerry turned the volume up on the monitor.

  “What can you tell us, Miss Maddox?” Torrance’s voice was soothing. He was using the tone he always did when he thought the witness might get squirrelly. “Did you suspect something?”

  Maddox hung her head, her ebony hair falling over her cheekbones. “He was cheating on me with her. He didn’t think I knew, but of course I did. I’m not stupid.”

  “How’d you find out?”

  “I caught them once. They didn’t see me. I stopped by his office and she was sitting on the edge of his desk and his hand was up her skirt—” Maddox blinked, but the tears trickled down her face anyway. She dug into her purse for a wad of tissue and blew her nose.

  “Has he been acting strange since Dr. Tao disappeared?” Kellogg asked as she scratched notes into her pad. “Anything that might indicate he knew her whereabouts?”

  Maddox shook her head. “No, but he’s been gone a lot. I don’t know where he goes, he doesn’t tell me. I work the late shift at Safeway, and sometimes I get in at three, four in the morning. And he’s not home. He’s been distracted for the past few weeks. And difficult.”

  “We’ve learned he spends a lot of time up in Lake Stevens.” Torrance watched her face closely. “Any idea why?”

  Maddox shook her head again and wiped her eyes. “Is that where Dr. Tao lives?”

  Torrance glanced up at the camera again and Jerry knew what the look meant. Abby Maddox had no idea about her boyfriend’s Lake Stevens house.

  She started to sniffle, and it wasn’t long before a torrent of sobs escaped from Maddox’s slender chest. Torrance watched dispassionately, but Kellogg, the rookie, obviously felt bad.

  “I should have k
nown something was off. I should have known.” Maddox struggled to contain herself, digging into her purse for another tissue.

  “We don’t know anything for a fact yet.” The female detective attempted to sound reassuring.

  “I should have known,” Maddox repeated, looking across at the two detectives. “I should have done something the moment I found it.”

  “To what are you referring?” Torrance asked with a frown.

  Maddox reached into her purse. It was hard to tell from the camera angle, but she appeared to be unzipping something. Women’s purses mystified Jerry—they had so many zippers and flaps and compartments, he was amazed women could find anything they’d stashed away. She dug for a bit, then pulled out a wadded-up tissue, which she placed on the table in front of the female detective.

  “Open it,” Maddox said.

  Kellogg hesitated, and Wolfe’s girlfriend said, “It’s not used or anything. I put something inside it. Something I found a couple of weeks ago in Ethan’s pocket.”

  Kellogg looked at Torrance, who gave her a nod. The blonde put her notebook down and reached inside her jacket pocket for a pair of latex gloves. Snapping them on, she unfolded the tissue with the points of her fingers. Something shiny rolled onto the table.

  It was a woman’s diamond ring.

  Kellogg picked it up and examined it under the lights. Even watching on the computer monitor, Jerry could tell the diamond was huge.

  “I found it when I was doing laundry. I’m pretty sure it’s Professor Tao’s. I remember admiring it from a distance when I went to meet Ethan at his office. I don’t know why he’d have it. I thought . . .” Maddox’s voice choked as another sob racked her. “I thought she’d left it behind and he’d stolen it. We’re broke and I thought maybe he was going to pawn it. Now I’m not so sure.”

  Torrance put on a pair of latex gloves as well and took the ring from his partner. Turning it so he could see the inside of the band, he read the inscription aloud. “ ‘Now and forever, Morris.’” He dropped it into a plastic bag and looked at Maddox, his face grim.