Читать книгу A Silent Terror & A Silent Fury - Lynette Eason - Страница 18

Exhausted, worried, frustrated by the lack of progress on the case, Ethan had fallen into bed after making sure Marianna was safely ensconced in her family’s care. Her mother had seen Marianna’s cheek and immediately ushered her off to examine the wound. Now, he lay sleepless once again, staring at the ceiling. Slowly, his body relaxed and he drifted.

The bright sun pounded the asphalt, sending heat waves radiating over anyone brave enough to expose himself to it. May wasn’t supposed to be this hot, he remembered thinking.

Then he was in the huge, almost deserted parking lot, waiting for Ashley. Somewhere in his sleep-fogged brain, he knew he was dreaming, yet hope remained that this time the ending would be different.

As he watched his Camaro pull under the lone tree providing the only shade in the entire parking lot, he told himself to park in a different spot. Suddenly, he was behind the wheel, watching, still waiting, clueless. He told himself to crank the car and drive off, move, park anywhere but there.

Instead, he just sat there.

The familiar blue hatchback pulled in and parked about forty yards away. The occupants couldn’t see him positioned as he was behind the tree.

Drive over there! he tried to order himself.

His dream self didn’t hear.

Now, the events started clicking, one after the other, only now he was a spectator watching a movie. One he’d seen before and didn’t like, didn’t want to watch again, not if he couldn’t rewrite the ending.

Ashley stepped from the car and looked around. Two other girls clambered from the backseat. One headed for the building; the other walked backward, signing, talking to Ashley. Ashley finally spotted him under the tree.

She waved to him and he waved back. She turned to say goodbye to her friend.

Engines revved.

The sound caught his attention because it seemed close.

But he kept his eyes on his sister, still walking backward, talking, signing, laughing. Grabbing a few last words.

Tires screeched as the black, low-slung Mustang hurled into the parking lot through the open gate. Its white twin followed seconds behind.

The dream seemed to slow, the camera panning back and forth between him and Ashley and the racing cars. Back to Ashley. Laughing, waving, long hair swinging around her face as she turned to run toward Ethan.

Fresh horror, remembered agony of what was to come screamed at him.

Ashley! Stop!

Still laughing, running toward her rock, the one person she could count on. Her stability in a silent world.

No! Look out! The words echoed in his mind even as he saw himself screaming at her, his shout falling on her deaf ears, sliding away.

Desperately, he tried to wake up.

Screeching tires, burning rubber.

The thud.

Ashley!

He ran to her, grabbed her, looked into her face. But it wasn’t Ashley this time. Marianna’s features mocked him, her eyes fixed on his but empty of the vibrant life that so defined her.

Terror and grief had him screaming out his denial. Once again, he’d failed. It was his fault…his fault....

Gasping, he sat up in bed, panting, his chest aching, the tears falling, great heaving sobs escaping. And he let them. Even after three years, the dream made the loss fresh, brought back the crushing pain of Ashley’s death… and the guilt that plagued him.

If only…

Only this time, he’d failed Marianna, too.

He rolled off the bed, knelt on the floor, ignored the sweat dripping from his brow and leaned his head against the mattress. Father, please, help me keep my focus on You. I know You don’t blame me for what happened to Ashley, but no matter what I do, I can’t forgive myself. I also know I’ve been a little slack in coming to You with my problems lately. For that I’m sorry. Forgive me, God. Help me deal with what’s going on in my crazy head and mixed-up job. And Marianna…God, that’s a tough call. I’m not even sure what to pray here, except to ask that You watch over her. And please don’t ask that I be the tool You use to do it. I failed Ashley, God. I failed that poor woman who died on my watch.... I can’t go through that again.... Please don’t ask me to.

He didn’t bother adding an Amen to the end of his prayer. He had a feeling the conversation was far from over. The clock read five fifteen. Should he call Mac, the man who’d gotten him through the worst time of his life and kept him from destroying himself and his career? Mac was overseas, working as a missionary now.

Ethan wondered what time zone Mac was in, then sighed. No, no sense in both of them being awake. No need to bother Mac when he couldn’t do anything but worry about Ethan. It would drive the man nuts knowing that Ethan might need his help and be unable to provide it. No, he’d have to deal with this one on his own.

Unfortunately, there’d be no more sleep tonight; might as well work on the case…cases. Suzanne’s murder, Marianna’s attack, the car vandalism, everything. Somehow, when he connected all the dots, he was going to come up with the big picture of how all these separate incidents were related.

Before Ethan had gone to bed last night, he’d called and filled Catelyn in on the night’s events. Her comment had been, “How is it I’m never with you when all this stuff keeps happening?”

“Because it keeps happening after we’re off the clock.”

“So, why do you keep clocking back in?” Her voice had been low, knowing. She’d always been good at reading people.

“Lay off, Cate, she needs help.”

“Hey, I’m not fussing.”

His mind’s eye pictured her pointing a finger at his nose as she said, “But you’d better call if you find yourself in trouble. I don’t care what time it is, on the clock, off the clock, whatever. You hear me?”

Saluting the phone, he’d said, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good, glad we got that straight.”

“I’m supposed to meet her after she gets out of school. Once again, I want to find out if she remembers anything else from any of the incidents, especially the one last night.”

“Let me know what she says. Listen, I’ve got class— gotta run. But call me if you need me, seriously.”

He knew she meant it. And she knew he’d call if he needed her. That’s what good friends and partners were for. And that’s all it was between them. Once upon a time, they’d tried for something more, but both had quickly realized they were only meant to be friends—period.

Ethan had been disappointed at first, then grateful. Now as he thought about Marianna, he wondered what God was doing in his heart and if, after all the craziness was done, God had something in mind for Ethan and Marianna. The thought made him a little…antsy.

Right now, he didn’t have time to explore that weird feeling. His phone buzzed as he pulled open the door to his car.

He glanced at the number and his heart chilled once again.

Six ten in the morning and Marianna was texting him.

Uh-oh, that couldn’t be good.

* * *

Marianna kept her eyes glued to the television, absorbing the news, the shock sending shivers through her body.

Josh’s father had been killed in a car wreck. The station went to a commercial. Her fingers flew over her Black-Berry keypad as she texted the message to Ethan that she wouldn’t be able to meet him today. Already she was making plans to be the one to drive Josh home to his grandparents. She knew they’d want him there, especially for the funeral. And she planned to be there for him, too.

When the station came back from the commercial, she read the captions unable to tear her eyes from the breaking news story. The reporter announced, “Roland Luck, campaign manager for Clayton Robertson, was killed in a car wreck early this morning. Roland apparently lost control of his car soon after leaving a private meeting at a secluded resort atop Breakaway Mountain, just twenty-five miles north of Asheville, North Carolina. His car swerved over the side and crashed into the wooded area below. His body has been recovered. For now, Steven Marshbanks, Roland’s assistant, will take over the campaign management until a replacement is named. Mr. Marshbanks is currently unavailable for a statement. We’ll have more details as they become known.”

With hands shaking, Marianna closed her eyes. Lord, what is going on? My world is spinning out of control, and the only thing I know to do is hold on to You and pray You make everything work out how it’s supposed to. And poor Josh, I don’t even know if he’ll understand what’s happened. Just…help me, Lord. Wrap us all in Your strength.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned. Her mother stood there, concern in her gentle brown eyes, her apron already tied around her ample waist. Maddelena signed, “What’s wrong, honey?”

Marianna hadn’t realized she been crying until her mother’s soft fingers reached up to wipe a few tears from Marianna’s cheeks. She flinched when the woman brushed the cut she’d incurred on the bleacher the night before. It throbbed a steady beat, encouraging her to find some aspirin soon. And hide it from Joseph. He’d been asleep when she’d gotten home, leaving her mother and Twister to greet her at the door, to smother her with care and questions Marianna had only partially answered.

“Oh,” she sniffed, “thanks. One of my students’ father was killed in a car accident this morning.”

Her mother’s eyes went wide. “I’m so sorry.” She gathered Marianna close for a tight squeeze, pulled back and signed, “I think we need extra prayer these days. I’m going to e-mail my ladies’ Bible study group if that’s all right with you.”

Marianna nodded and brought her hands up to say, “More than all right. Thank you.”

“Now, come eat.”

A watery chuckle escaped her lips. Of course, tragedy had struck and her mother’s solution was food. Right now, it worked for her. She’d need her strength in the coming few days. It was only Tuesday and already she felt as if she’d done enough, had enough happen, to fill the entire week.

Twister sat at her feet while she ate. Absentmindedly, she rubbed one of his ears and thought back to the incident of the night before. She’d purposely avoided thinking about it—one of the reasons she’d turned on the news— but now she needed to make sure it was all right for her to leave with the ongoing investigation. Most likely it would be fine as long as she left a contact number where she could be reached.

Swallowing the last of her eggs, she reached once again for her BlackBerry and typed a message to her principal, asking permission to be the one to drive Josh home and attend the funeral. Within minutes, she had a reply giving her permission. Relief flowed over her. Her principal promised to have a state car ready and waiting for her.

After explaining her plans to her mother, who promised to take care of Twister, Marianna headed to school. When she arrived at her classroom, her five homeroom students, Josh, Peter, Christopher, Lily and Sarah, were already there, seated at their desks. The two girls had their Sidekicks out, texting. A firm look from Marianna had them tossing her sheepish smiles and tucking the devices away.

Her assistant, Dawn, stepped into the classroom, mug of coffee in hand.

“Good morning, Dawn.”

“Heard you had quite an adventure last night.”

Marianna winced, reaching up to touch her cheek. “I suppose it’s all around the school.”

“Yep. Your activities are a hotbed of gossip.”

“So, is it accurate?”

Dawn shrugged. “I don’t know.” She gave a small grin. “Whatcha think I’ve been waiting to find out?”

Before she could answer, she got her usual greeting from Josh, since he couldn’t stand it anymore and leaped up out of his seat. He signed her name sign, fingers shaped in the letter M and pulled it down from scalp to shoulder, symbolizing her long hair.

“Hi, Josh.” She forced herself to smile through her sadness for him. He didn’t have a clue. But then his life probably wouldn’t change that much in the coming days, although he would probably wonder where his father was eventually. Possibly. Who knew what he would think, how this would affect him?

Marianna started to answer Dawn when Peter, one of her higher level, if extremely shy and sensitive students, with a rapt expression on his face, caught her attention and waved her toward the door.

She turned to find Ethan standing there, one shoulder leaning negligently against the doorjamb. Her heart caught her by surprise and did a little flip-flop before resuming its normal rhythm.

She stared. What brought him here? Biting her lip, she prayed it wasn’t more trouble.

Accurately reading her expression, he gave that little one-sided quirk of his lips that did funny things to her stomach. Then he said, “After you sent me that text this morning telling me about Josh’s father and that you were going to take him home, my boss thought you might need a little extra protection with everything that’s been going on. He asked me if I’d be willing to take on the job.”

The inscrutable expression in his blue eyes caught her attention, and she wondered at the meaning behind it. Instead of asking, she looked around the classroom with alarm churning through her. “Does he think I’m endangering the kids by being here?”

Ethan shook his head. “No, not really. We did discuss it, but his theory is that you have something this guy wants and he’s only going to come after you.”

She chewed her bottom lip. “I don’t know whether to be relieved or scared.” A half laugh escaped.

“Well, the one sure way to stop all this madness is to find out what it is you have that he wants.”

Marianna sighed, then turned to her assistant. “Dawn, would you mind handling the class for me? I need to make sure everything is ready for Josh.”

“No problem.” Dawn shooed her out the door, taking over the class with skill.

Marianna and Ethan walked outside, where the sun shone bright, casting a deceptive-looking warmth over the grounds. She shivered, pulling her sweater tighter around her shoulders. “So you got my text about Josh’s father.”

“Yep.” He sat on the bench just outside the door of the building.

“I’ll be leaving in just a short while to take him home.”

“He doesn’t have anyone that could come get him?”

“Sure, but why make someone drive all the way down here when I’m going that way?”

Ethan nodded. “Makes sense. And yet…” He eyed her petite frame, and she flushed at his scrutiny. “Are you sure that’s safe? He’s a pretty big boy.”

“He’s big but wouldn’t hurt a fly. At least not on purpose. And maybe if I leave for a while, things will calm down around here.” A thought struck her, causing her blood to hum a little faster through her veins. “You don’t…you don’t think whoever’s the cause of all this mess will follow me, do you?”

* * *

Ethan noted the renewed stress on her pretty face. The thought had occurred to him. What better timing than a lone woman out on the road with no way to defend herself? He definitely didn’t like it.

“None of the other teachers are going?” It was really pointless to ask and go through these motions. He knew what he had to do, had been ordered to do.

She shook her head. “No, there’s so much going on around here, and my principal really can’t spare that much manpower. Subs are few and far between.”

“So, guess that means I’m your copilot.”

Her jaw dropped. “Did you say copilot?”

“Indeed.” He gave a mock bow and said, “At your service.”

“But…but…” she sputtered. “Why? No. I don’t need you to look after me.”

He smiled, hoping she couldn’t see the battle raging inside him. “Sorry. You’ve got your own personal bodyguard for the next few days. At least until we get a break on Suzanne’s case and the person targeting you. And, to be honest, my boss doesn’t want to take a chance on something happening to the kid who’ll be riding with you. Potential negative publicity, backlash about the department being slack and all that.” She still looked as if she was in shock. He signed, “So do you want to drive, or should I?”

Two hours later, ensconced in a state van—the transportation people had taken pity on Josh’s very long legs and provided the larger vehicle rather than the usual tiny Taurus—Ethan found himself with special permission to drive, Josh in the back and Marianna in the passenger seat.

He didn’t have to have special training in reading body language to understand what hers shouted. Arms crossed, toe tapping the floor board, chin jutted, jaw tight, lips pursed. Yep, she was mad. In her eyes, he was tramping all over her independence; no doubt making her feel like he thought she needed a keeper. He refused to tell her he was just as thrilled with this assignment as she.

God, I remember specifically praying that You NOT use me to watch out for her. Yet here I am. Exactly what do You have in mind?

Not really expecting an answer but hoping for one regardless, Ethan drove along silently, waiting—and watching his back. Not a lot of traffic was a good thing, since it allowed him to see each and every car that came near.

“I can take care of myself, you know.”

The words came out machine-gun fast, startling him into looking at her for a brief moment. Eyes back on the road, he could feel her staring at him. Quirking a brow, he tilted his head so she could see his lips. “Really? Like you did last night?”

She wilted. “Well, no. Last night was…horrible. Terrifying. I just meant I’m perfectly capable of driving myself and a student to Beaufort, South Carolina.”

“Marianna, I never questioned your abilities. But who knows what this guy is capable of?” On impulse, he reached over and took her hand to give it a squeeze. “I… we…just want to make sure that nothing happens to you.”

Narrowed eyes nailed him. “Then why didn’t you want to come?”

Her question sucker punched him. She’d read him, his reluctance. “No offense, but I don’t want to talk about that.”

The fact that she let it go amazed him. “Then tell me about your sister.”

Another direct hit, that one to the gut. He swallowed— hard. “Ashley was…amazing. She went to the deaf school.”

“Ashley O’Hara.” Realization dawned. “I knew her. The girl who was killed in the parking lot of the local high school by the…”

“…drag-racing teens,” he finished. “Yeah, she’d been to a ball game with some of her hearing friends from church. They were a little late getting back, and with the parking lot almost empty, she wasn’t paying attention when she headed toward…” The lump in his throat surprised him. After almost three years you would think he’d be at the point where he could at least talk about the accident without getting so emotional. If only the regret, the feeling of being responsible for…

“Oh, Ethan, I’m so sorry.”

Fresh guilt sideswiped him. He dodged it. “She would be twenty years old this year.”

“And the boys who were responsible? I don’t think I ever heard what happened.”

“It was ruled a negligent vehicular homicide. Both boys had stiff fines and the one who actually hit her served some jail time. They’re still doing community service stuff.”

Time to change the subject. He asked, “Did you call the school dormitory and cancel basketball practice yesterday?”

Blinking at the sudden turn, she answered, “No, of course not.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Someone called the dormitory on the TTY and pretended to be you, canceling practice.”

Anger flashed over her features, mixed with fear and frustration. “So, this person not only knows my schedule, but also knows who to call, how to call and what to say to impersonate me.”

“I’ve got Catelyn working on tracing the phone call. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t hold my breath on finding anything out there.”

“I know. That call could have been placed from anywhere that has a public TTY.” She leaned her head against the window, staring at the passing scenery. Josh held a Nintendo DS game that kept him enthralled.

Unable to stop himself, Ethan reached over to grasp her hand once more. Her eyes shot to his. He squeezed, a gentle pressure meant to offer reassurance. He felt the fragile bones, the slender, graceful fingers, and he appreciated her courage as she gave him a wobbly smile and squeezed back.

Ethan returned his attention to the road. Checked the side mirror, the rearview mirror.

Made a mental note about the car coming up behind them.

And noticed it was coming fast.