Safe at Home (Warm Springs Trilogy Book 1) (8 page)

He moved silently toward her.

“I mean it. You need to leave.” Her voice lost some of its confidence. She lunged for her phone on the counter, but he was behind her.

The sound of her body hitting the floor filled him with pleasure. Finally, the anger found an outlet.

She moaned and her head bobbed as she came to in the chair in the center of the living room. He had tied her hands and feet to the arms and legs of the chair with zip ties. A more than efficient tool for resisting force and keeping her in place.

Her eyes opened and she looked around the room, unsure about what was happening. She tried to move her arm and began to struggle when she realized she was trapped. She stopped suddenly, a look of terror twisting her features when she saw him watching her.

He stood across from her holding his tool box. Waiting. He’d waited months to carry out his plan and it was finally time. Time to make her pay, to make them all pay. Without a word he knelt down, opened his tool box, and began arranging tools on the plastic covering the carpet.

“You can have whatever you want. There’s jewelry in the bedroom.” She stammered when he didn’t respond. “All the cash I have is in my wallet on the counter.”

He remained quiet, focusing on his tools, letting the anticipation build. Her voice escalated with fear as she continued to plead with him.

“What do you want?” She still didn’t understand.

He looked up and stared at her. His eyes boring into hers. It was the only part of his face that she could see, but it was enough. Her face crumbled and she began to sob.

“You remember me now, don’t you? I remember you, too.” He slid a red bandana over her mouth. “I’ve been thinking about you while I’ve been away.”

Denise gasped for air, then her eyes widened as he bent over and picked up one of his tools. When he clamped the metal down, she screamed until her voice cracked and he smiled behind his mask. Her head bobbed back and forth, from one shoulder to the other, and then her eyes locked on something across the room. He followed her gaze and a rush of hate surged through him. Tucked behind several knickknacks on a shelf, stood a wooden framed picture of Denise standing next to a smiling Samantha. He gritted his teeth and tore his eyes away from the picture.

Blood dripped from Denise’s fingers while she cried and begged him to stop. He reached for the wire cutters again. He slipped them around her middle finger at the joint and squeezed. Her bone crushed beneath the pressure, but he could barely hear the sounds of bones grinding over her muffled screams. The bandana covering her mouth was drenched in tears, sweat and saliva. She bit down on it when he slid the metal over her index finger. She whimpered and tensed as the same grinding sound started again.

“Try not to act so surprised, Denise. I told you I’d see you again.”

She looked up at him through tears.

“You know why I’m here.” Her head slumped. “Look at me,” he growled. But, she didn’t lift her head. She was on the verge of passing out.

With the knife in his left hand, he grabbed her ear, sliced it off, and dropped it to the plastic. She screamed again. The sound more animal than human.

“You never did listen,” he held back a full grin. That would come soon, though. “Don’t worry, Denise. I know you’d never want someone to see you this way. Fortunately for you, I don’t think you need to worry about anyone ever seeing you after tonight.”

She looked at him then and tried to speak. He understood what she was saying to him through tears and the cloth in her mouth.

“Oh, you misunderstand, I don’t want anything from you. I already got what I came for.” He leaned down and put his face in hers. “This is just for fun.”

As the elevator rose, Lieutenant Stephens’ stomach dropped. He hadn’t been warned prior to his arrival of what the body looked like, only that one had been found. He tried not to picture it as he rode in silence next to Detective Martin.

The Detective had been around a long time and Stephens didn’t want him thinking he was an idiot who couldn’t handle his job.

“Kid, I’ve seen my fair share of homicides and burglaries, but this is the kind of case that’ll stay with a man.” He adjusted his belt which was digging into his protruding stomach.

Lieutenant Stephens swallowed, impressed he’d known exactly what he’d been thinking. Detective Martin was already living up to his reputation as the best. Clearing his throat, Stephens started briefing Martin on the situation.

“So, a neighbor called it in to the front desk, but didn’t see anything?” Detective Stephens rubbed a hand over his thick chin.

“Yes, sir. The call came from a Mrs. Jones. She lives down the hall from the deceased. She said she smelled something foul when she was opening her door. That was about two hours ago.” The officer paused and scanned his notes. “She phoned the front desk to complain when the smell started wafting into her apartment through the vents.”

The two men stepped off the elevator.

“That’s when the front desk sent someone up and that individual traced the smell to this apartment?”

They paused outside the door.

“Yes, sir, and when you see the body, you’ll know what caused the smell.”

The scene was crowded. As the photographer moved, Lieutenant Stephens saw the dead body that had been mutilated. He fought the urge to retch, and instead, shook his head and grimaced. It didn’t get any easier the second time.

The woman that was tied to the chair in the middle of the living room was barely recognizable. Both of her ears had been removed and her hair had been burned off. She sat slumped in the chair with her shirt ripped open, and where her nipples had once been there were only bloody circles. So, not only had she had been humiliated, she’d also been tortured. This job was personal.

“Stephens,” Martin said from beside him, “let’s try to keep this quiet for as long as possible. I want to see what we can dig up before the media swoops in like the vultures they are.”

Stephens nodded and the two remained where they were, transfixed by the horrific scene.

“This took planning. We need to figure out if this was someone’s end game or the beginning of a spree.”

Chapter 11

Dinner.
She still wasn’t sure what she’d been thinking. Thanks to her less than brilliant move, she spent half the morning on the computer trying to figure out what to cook, with no luck. Everything was too complicated. She knew she could boil water to make corn on the cob. Even she could manage that, and there was always salad. But, what on earth did Spencer like to eat?

She paced by the phone while she debated on whether or not to call Betsy, but she didn’t want her to get the wrong idea about what was happening. This was not a date. It was two friends having dinner and one of the aforementioned friends was going to be cooking. She scowled when she realized she was right back where she started.

Drastic times called for drastic measures. She grabbed her keys and locked the door as she left. She would just go to the store and see what popped out at her. It wasn’t a strong plan, but it was the only one she had.

Returning home hours later, and with a ridiculous amount of food, Sam heaved the last bag into the house. Her mom always said it’s a bad idea to go to the store hungry. But, going when you have no idea what you want to make is equally bad. She surveyed her countertops. There wasn’t an inch of empty space.

Later that afternoon, with eyes crossed, she settled on a recipe she found on her second attempt on the internet. Teriyaki chicken was the winner. Everyone liked chicken and it sounded simple enough. A normal person her age could usually cook at least something decent and in the South it seemed women her age were already established cooks, but she was from the city and this city girl’s idea of a cooked meal was takeout.

She thought she might enjoy learning how to cook, but having a guest took the fun right out of it. If she accidentally poisoned him on her first attempt it wouldn’t bode well for future trials in the kitchen. Plus, it was Spencer, and even though he was just a friend, he had set the bar high with the picnic lunch. And, he ate over at Ann’s once a week and she was a marvelous cook. Sam hit her head against the table next to where her laptop was sitting and sighed. Ann was a southern woman through and through.

Sam took a deep breath and tried to calm down knowing she had a plan in place. What she needed was a distraction, something to keep her mind off of Spencer and the clock. She spent the rest of the afternoon fiddling with her flowerbed, the one thing sure to calm her nerves and occupy her mind.

Two hours later, what Sam desired most was a hot shower. Her muscles ached from pulling weeds and planting the new flowers she picked up on her way home from the store. She hadn’t intended to stop at the little nursery, but it was only five minutes out of the way and flowers were her weakness. Besides, it was time to replace her potted plants with Mums for fall.

In her old apartment she used to set out a fresh bouquet every week. Sometimes, she used a bud vase to add a touch of color and some weeks she would buy a huge bundle of sunflowers to bring a punch of life into her living room. Either way, it was nothing compared to what she had now. She paused by her bedroom window and smiled. The kaleidoscope of color transformed her yard into a sort of wonderland.

As the shower steam filled the air, she began to feel a slight hint of nerves fluttering gently in the pit of her stomach. Dinner was cooking. The house was clean. She had no reason to be nervous. After her shower, she spread lotion on her legs which carried the faint scent of strawberries. It lingered behind her as she paced over to stand in front of her closet.

She tossed shirt after shirt onto her bed and then flipped through her skirts. None of it seemed right. After what seemed like an eternity, she decided on a simple sundress. The buzzer sounded and Sam tugged the dress over her head as she ran down the stairs. Dinner was beginning to release a pleasant aroma all over the downstairs. It smelled a little bit like heaven. Hopefully, it tasted as good as it smelled.

With a quick glance at the clock, Sam hurried back up the stairs to finish putting herself together. Following a turn with the hair dryer and a dab of makeup, she took one final look in the mirror and decided she finally looked more like a woman than a dirty field hand. Then, right on time, the doorbell rang and her nerves went from a gentle hum to a full-fledged buzzing.

“Hi, come on in.” Sam opened the door and stood back to let Spencer step inside.

“You look great. Here, these are for you.” Spencer handed her the tulips he was carrying.

She barely saw the flowers because of his intent eyes currently locked on hers. “Thank you. They’re beautiful,” she stammered. The oven buzzed again. “I better get that. Make yourself at home,” she called from halfway down the hall. Glad to be in the kitchen, she took a deep breath.

She’d never seen him dressed up before. He was wearing a sport coat over a white shirt with some jeans, but he wasn’t wearing a hat, so the eyes she thought of too often were now even easier to get lost in.
Come on. Get a grip, girl. You’re acting like you’ve never seen a man before.
She shook her head and opened the oven, reminding herself Spencer was only her friend.

Sam looked amazing. His heart had skipped a beat when she opened the door. He felt clumsy and a little bit awkward being at her house this way. He’d been there every afternoon for months, but this was different. For once in his life, he didn’t care. All he wanted was to pull her close and drink her in. She smelled of something sweet and even after she hurried to the kitchen, her scent stayed with him.

“It smells great.” He walked over to one of her bookshelves and smiled as he skimmed the titles. There were gardening books to fuel her passion and books about antiques to help her learn about her current job. There were knickknacks and vases full of fresh flowers arranged between clusters of books. Then his eyes came to rest on a photo album. He reached for it and hesitated. He should resist, but he wanted to know her more than he’d ever wanted to know anyone. Before he could stop himself, he slid it over and flipped it open.

There she was looking up at him. Her hair was shorter then, but it was the same Sam. Not the sad, distant Sam he had originally met, but the one he saw when she was talking to customers in the shop or playing keep away with Alex and Boomer in the backyard. He flipped the page and saw her standing on the beach somewhere, but she wasn’t alone. There was a man standing behind her with his arms around her waist and they were laughing.

Spencer felt a pang of jealousy stir within him. Who was this guy? Where was he now?

“It’s ready, go ahead and have a seat at the table,” Sam shouted from the kitchen.

With a start, Spencer tucked the album back on the shelf and headed into the dining room. “This is new,” he commented as she walked into the room carrying the final platter and set it on the table.

“Do you like it? I finally got around to buying some new furniture. The vase on the buffet is from Mary’s store.” Sam sat in the seat next to him and passed him a basket with warm rolls wrapped inside a white cloth napkin.

Her nearness distracted him from the food and he nearly missed the basket she was offering him.

“Oh yeah, I was going to tell you, last weekend I was storing a few things in the attic and I came across some boxes. I think you should take a look. I didn’t go through them because they’re obviously your family’s things.”

Her comment made him feel even guiltier about looking at her photo album. “I guess when Mom left, she didn’t take the time to clean out the attic.” He shrugged. “Or maybe she forgot that stuff was up there. I’ll stop by and pick it up one day this week.” He paused to take another bite. “Jake might like to take a walk down memory lane, too.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, where’s your mom now?”

Spencer set his fork on the edge of his plate and folded his hands together. “After my dad passed, she decided to move to Florida to be near her sister. She’d been taking care of Dad for a long time. I think she needed a change.”