Rebel Princess - Book 2 (The Hope Saga) (16 page)

This was a bad idea. What if Daryl overhears me talking to him? What if I get thrown out on my butt by Brett’s dad? I decided to abort the mission. Just then, I noticed something. A door at the end of the corridor was opened slightly. My curiosity drove me forward. I carefully opened the door to a room with more stairs. I stepped inside and closed the door softly behind me.

Do I dare go up those stairs? Part of me wondered if it was the perfect place to kill somebody. My heart leapt. Could Brett’s dad be the killer? No! That was ludicrous! I tried to stop myself but I had to know the truth, or at the very least, eliminate him as a suspect. I could come back with Julie but I didn’t know if I could get access back here again. I should just look while I had the chance. 

The stairs creaked with every step as I made my way up. At the top was a huge office. I flicked on the lights and started looking around. It was pretty empty, just an old couch and desk. So I started fumbling through desk drawers. Just stupid files and papers and other useless junk. When I opened the last drawer, I found a turquoise box. I pulled the lid off and glanced down.

I gasped.

Swatches of dark hair, a turquoise ring, a silver locket, a gold bracelet and a few other mementoes lined the box.

No way! It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t.

I couldn’t breathe as my heart thundered. Was Brett’s dad the killer? Mr. Panders? No way. It seemed too crazy to believe, yet, I was looking at the evidence. Only the killer had these souvenirs of the crimes he committed. I needed to get the hell out of there…and fast. Do I take the stuff? Or do I leave it. I really didn’t want to touch the box. It somehow felt disrespectful. My mind raced. I wish Brett or Rachel were here with me to talk this out. I didn’t know what to do. My hands trembled and I decided it was better if I took the box so I’d have proof.

Footsteps.

I gasped. Somebody was coming!

Shit!

The box. Hide it! Put it back!

I put the box back in the bottom drawer and shut it tight. Then I glanced around. Where do I hide? Behind the couch. So I hurried and crawled in behind it just as footsteps walked in. This was a much better hiding place than under the desk. If he sat down, I’d be screwed. My heart beat faster as he fumbled for something in the desk.

Would he kill me if he caught me? Would it be easy since he never liked me anyway? What would he tell his son? Would he hide my body so Brett wouldn’t see? Or would he proudly display it like the others?

Stay focused. Stay calm. Don’t move a muscle.  

What if he catches me? What if this is my final moment? 

If he came at me, I’d fight him. I wouldn’t go down without a fight. I sized him up in my mind and thought about possible defense strategies that would work on him. I had a few possible ways to take him down. One way or another, I was leaving that office alive.

Footsteps echoed past me, then down the stairs. I shrugged in relief. When I was sure the coast was clear, I went back to the desk and grabbed the stash, then left as fast as I could.

***

Back in Rachel’s room, I told her the entire story in graphic detail. It took her a minute to comprehend what I was telling her. She looked at the items in the box and almost threw up. It was very upsetting and I felt bad even taking them in the first place. But we needed proof.

“Do you think Brett’s dad is the killer?” she asked, eyes wide.

“I don’t know, but the evidence looks that way. How else would he get it? Unless he was collecting the stuff himself after each murder?”

“Does Brett know yet?”

I shook my head. “No. How is this going to look? How do I tell him that I’m investigating his hero, his father. He’ll defend him no matter what.”

“What if it’s Brett?” she asked.

I cocked a brow. “Are you crazy?”

“Hey, I’m looking at this objectively,” she said, voice wavering.

I could tell how upset she was. She was leaving no stone unturned.

“Why would he stash the box to implicate himself in his dad’s office?” I asked.

“Because nobody is going to look in that office, especially not when Mr. Pander is the head of security.”

“His dad could easily find that stuff. It’d be a horrible hiding place.”

“Unless…they could both be in on it.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“Hey, I’m just saying.”

I bit my lip. “You know what?”

“What?”

“Daryl had me wait a few minutes before he led me back there. What if he left that door open knowing how snoopy I am? What if he planted the evidence?”

She started writing in her notebook. “So it could be Daryl, Brett, or Mr. Panders?”

“Take Brett’s name right off,” I said.

“Are you sure there’s no telltale signs you’ve clearly overlooked?”

“My boyfriend is not a nut job!”

“Of course not. I was trying to be objective. But I’ve known Brett my whole life. He’s the most honorable and trustworthy person I know. I know without a doubt it’s not him.”

“It’s not.”

“I know. And I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions. I think I was just in shock and I wasn’t sure what spewed out of my mouth.”

“It’s okay. Everyone has to be eliminated that has access to that office.”  

Rachel let out a long breath. “What if this serial killer is somebody we all know and love?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

She pondered. “When I really think about it, there’s no way it can be Brett or his dad. I’m really thinking Chad from the surface.”

“I don’t know what to think at this point. But I do know one thing. We know our killer.”

“And nothing’s scarier than that.”

“I’m going to have to tell Brett and my aunt.”

“Mr. Tams too?”

“Yeah. He needs to know. I’m just afraid he’ll cover for Mr. Panders. They’re good friends.”

“Both ‘yes’ men for Dante.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“How do you think the blue moon got tangled in the victim’s hair?”

“We thought it was somebody from the surface, but maybe it’s not.”

“So we’re back to not knowing who it is?” she asked.

I nodded. “This is beyond puzzling.”

***

I reported all my findings to Mr. Tams, Brett, and my aunt. Mr. Tams said he would launch an official investigation.

Brett and I played a game of pool when we got into a little bit of a tiff.

“I can’t believe you’d blame my dad,” Brett said.

“I’m not blaming him. I’m just telling you what I found. Why would he have that stuff stashed in his desk?”

“I don’t know. I plan to talk to him about that.” He looked away, then back at me. “My dad has let others borrow his office for projects. Sometimes for weeks.”

“Can you ask him about it?”

He made his shot, then nodded. “Sure. I definitely can do that.”      

Chapter 25

The next morning, I was assigned to dust the lobbies. I didn’t complain; we all took turns with cleaning and other various duties, and we had to work together to create a functioning community. I wasn’t lazy and didn’t mind hard work at all, and I wanted to prove to Brett’s parents that I was mature and responsible and willing to do my part.

When Walter called my name, I turned and looked at him. It was difficult to hide my nervousness, because we suspected he or one of his brothers could be the Asha strangler. Of course, it could be somebody from down here as well. We just weren’t sure. It was early in the morning, and no one else was around. My heart fluttered as I realized it would be the perfect opportunity for Walter to snatch me, without anyone to witness it. 

“You’re so jumpy. Sorry to startle you,” he said.

Am I looking at the killer right now?
I wondered
. Is Walter even capable of something so…vile?
“Hi, W-Walter,” I stuttered, trying to sound composed.

“What are you doing down here so early?” he asked.

“Just a little cleaning.”

“Is it safe to be all alone in here, what with a killer lurking around? Aren’t you scared? You seem to be…his type.”

“I’m not alone—or at least I wasn’t. Collin was here, but he had to go. I coulda gone back to my room, but I refuse to live like a prisoner. It’s already bad enough being locked down here in this underground fishbowl.”

He tried to chitchat with me for a while, and I played along, but I secretly wanted to get away from him. Just as I was about to come up with an excuse to leave, he smiled.

“I’ve got exciting news,” he said.

“Really? What?” I asked, my curiosity piqued because I’d never seen him look so happy.

“Somebody’s moving in with me!”

“Who?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t wanna jinx it or to start a rumor mill, but let’s just say…well, things are heading in a very positive direction for me.”

“That’s fabulous!” I said. “I knew you’d find somebody, that girl who makes your heart thump wildly.”

“I have, and she’s perfect for me.”

I was glad to hear that Walter had found someone special to share his life with, because he really was a nice guy. I suddenly felt very at ease with him, and I knew he couldn’t possibly be the strangler; in fact, I wanted to bang my head against the wall for ever suspecting him. I was glad I hadn’t brought my suspicions to his attention. Still, even if Walter was innocent, that didn’t eliminate his brothers as suspects.

“When’s the big move-in?” I asked.

“I’m working all the details out, but I’m hoping it will be soon. There will be a few bumps in the road. For starters, Dante doesn’t approve at all.”

“Of course. But how can he dictate who lives in
your
house up there? That doesn’t seem fair, Walter.” A knot formed in my stomach as I realized that Dante’s tyrant fingers had a farther reach than I’d imagined. My rebel attitude started to bear its ugly head as angry, bitter thoughts consumed me.

“I know. I love her so much. The girl is my world, my sunshine. I don’t see how he can keep me from that.”

“You can’t let him control you,” I said. “You’ve gotta stand up for yourself. If you want something, you’ve gotta reach out and take it, even if it means breaking the rules.”

“I don’t like to create waves.”

“Don’t be a yes-man like Mr. Tams. If you lose her, you’ll regret it forever.”

“She hates Dante, like you do, and I’m worried for her safety too. She’s defied him so many times, even in public, making a fool of him. Fortunately, her mom has connections. Otherwise, I don’t think she’d still be alive.”

“Then fight for your love.”

“I will. You’d love her. She’s feisty and beautiful like you, and we have this awesome connection, this amazing chemistry. On top of that, she kisses like an angel.”

“Well, that’s important,” I said with a smile.

“Yeah. We’ve got that part nailed down.”

“Just try and make the house warm and inviting before she gets there. No girl wants to move into a dirty sock-smelling, messy bachelor pad.”

He smiled. “I know. I’m planting a beautiful garden, with all her favorite flowers. I was hoping you might be able to give me a few tips. I’m definitely not a farmer.”

“Sure. I’d love to. She’s a lucky girl, and she sounds awesome. I can’t wait to meet her. When I come to the surface, you can introduce me.”

He laughed. “I can’t wait for you to come up. I bet you two will be great friends. You have so much in common.”

“When I get there, make sure to invite me over for dinner.”

“You might not like my cooking.”

“She doesn’t cook?”

“I’m afraid not, but I do make really good ribs.”

“Sounds fantastic.”

“Okay. Well, I gotta go.”

I said goodbye, and after he turned to leave, I went back to dusting. As I wiped the rag over the edge of a coffee table, I had to laugh at myself. “Walter, a killer. Right.” 

***

When I finished all the dusting, I went back to my apartment to change and meet Rachel and Brett so we could play a game of pool. When I walked into my room, I saw a book lying on my bed, opened to Page 199. I skimmed the page quickly and discovered it was about a girl who’d just found a strangled body. A serial killer was on the loose in the story, and she was afraid she was the next victim. “What the…?” I muttered, swallowing hard. I walked out of my bedroom, half-dazed, and called for my Aunt Sarah. “Do you know anything about this?” I asked her and my cousins, holding up the book.

They all shook their heads, indicating that no one knew anything. 

“Somebody had to come over while I was cleaning,” I insisted.

“Not that I know of, dear,” my aunt said.

“Then how’d the book get in my room, and why was it turned to that page?” I asked.

“I don’t know, but I’ll look into to it,” she assured me. “What did that page say?”