Dean's List Page 17

  He asked Lydia if she thought the man in the picture had anything to do with the murder.

  Lydia couldn't get her fingers to move. Now she had actual proof that Dean had had contact with one of the victims. That was probably enough to go to the police. She sat on the bed and shook, so cold that her teeth chattered.

  She closed the laptop, and then grabbed her travel bag. Lydia pulled some clothes out and brought them to her face. Tears pouring, she screamed as loud as she could into them. She screamed again, and then again.

  How could this be? How could she have married a serial killer? Why had she been so blind as to miss the signs? She should have questioned him being away from home so much.

  Lydia had fought him at first, saying that no one should travel so often—that three days a month at home wasn't right. But he kept getting irritated, saying that she was overreacting and being a typical emotional woman.

  Not wanting to hear that anymore, she stopped asking about it. And eventually, people stopped asking her about him being gone all the time. It was just their normal, and once she met Chad, Lydia had no complaints about Dean's schedule again.

  Now she knew how stupid she had been, ignoring the feeling that something was wrong.

  She screamed into the clothes again. If she had been more diligent, some of those women could still be alive. She screamed again.

  Lydia couldn't do anything about the past, but she could prevent anyone else from being killed at her husband's hand. She opened the laptop and took a screen shot of the email and sent it to her phone. She couldn't risk only having the email in one place. Plus, she had the pictures of the clippings on her phone.

  The only decision she had left was whether to go to the cops in this town, or the ones closer to where they lived. It would probably make more sense to go back home and talk to the ones there. On the other hand, she was already here. If need be, the local cops could take what she had and share with the ones back home.

  Her stomach turned at the thought of going back and being near Dean. She didn't ever want to see him again—there was no way she could even look at him. Not now. He may have been able to sweet-talk her before, when she had a reasonable doubt. That was gone now.

  She looked everything over on the laptop before shutting it down, and then she packed the clothes back into the bag. She needed to get to the police as soon as possible. The longer she was gone, the more time it gave Dean to figure out that she knew. He could flee town or worse, go after her.

  Shaking, she grabbed everything and headed out the door. Just as she closed it behind her, someone said her name.

  Scared

  Bri sat with her family, watching a movie she couldn't focus on. Every few minutes, she got up and looked out a front window. Then the sides and back. Everything looked normal each time, but her nerves felt afire.

  What if Dean figured out that they knew about the killings? He would probably stop at nothing to shut them up. Or hurt Lydia. He was a cold-blooded murderer. What did he care about Bri or her family?

  She made her way back into the rec room, and caught Corey's attention. She indicated for him to come out into the hall with her. He kissed the top of both girls' heads, and then joined Bri.

  "What's going on?"

  "I think we should leave."

  "And go where, exactly?" he asked.

  "I don't care. Anywhere other than here." Bri lowered her voice. "There's a killer in the neighborhood, and we're one of the few people who know his secret."

  "He's not going to come after us, and if he tries, I'll stop him."

  Bri's vision grew blurry from tears. "Corey, he's a killer. Don't you get that?"

  "Has Dean killed a man?"

  "Not that I know of. What does that have to do with anything?"

  Corey raised an eyebrow. "Men like him are wimps. They go after those who are weaker than them. I'll bet if you look into the victims, they're all people he knew he could overpower. He gets them alone, probably corners them to where they can't escape, and maybe drugs them. Do you think he can take on this?" Corey flexed in several different positions.

  Bri cracked a smile, even though she was on edge. "I suppose you have a point."

  "Look, honey, if it'll make you feel better, I'll call Tom. They'll drop everything and come over. You think Dean will take on the two of us?"

  "You and Tom? Not a chance."

  "So, you'd feel better if they were here?" asked Corey.

  Bri looked into the rec room. The girls were giggling at the TV. She turned back to Corey. "I would."

  Corey pulled her into a hug, and then kissed the top of her head. "Then I'll call them." He pulled his phone from a pocket and called Tom. "Why don't you guys come on over? We'll order pizza. …. Bri's really scared, too. … Yeah, bring the drinks. …. Cool. See you then."

  "They're coming?" Bri asked, relief flooding her.

  He kissed her on the lips. "Go in there and sit with the girls. I'm going to order pizza and wait by the door for them."

  "What are you going to do if you see Dean?"

  "Make him wish he'd never been born. Go on."

  Bri went and sat with the girls. Elsie, the youngest, climbed into her lap. Bri wrapped her arms around her, holding her tight. Dean wouldn't dare come in with four adults and two kids. Corey was right—he would never try anything with Corey and Tom there. They were intimidating when they had to be, and they were a lot bigger than Dean. Two Deans probably couldn't fight off one of them.

  "You okay, Mommy?" Elsie asked.

  "Yeah, sweetie." Bri kissed the top of her head. She tried to get into the movie. It was a kids' comedy about a talking otter trying to escape the zoo using a broken furnace. They'd seen it at least a hundred times.

  After a few scenes played out, Bri heard the door open downstairs. She relaxed further when Tom's and Savannah's voices drifted upstairs. They were laughing with Corey about something.

  Bri sat Elsie on a bean bag, and then kissed both girls before heading downstairs.

  Savannah and Tom both gave her a hug, and then they all headed into the kitchen. Bri pulled Savannah aside as the men got the table ready for the pizza.

  "Have you heard from Cara or Lydia?" Bri asked.

  "I wish."

  "Something's wrong," Bri said. "I can just feel it. I don't know which one is in more danger."

  "Probably Cara, since Lydia's out of town. Wherever Cara's staying, it's probably with Dean somewhere. Lydia's always thought he had a place somewhere else, right?"

  Bri nodded, frowning. "I wish Cara would at least text us and say she's okay. Does she think we're just trying to annoy her?"

  "She probably has no clue that Dean's killing people," Savannah said. "For all we know, she thinks we're siding with Lydia and just want to chew her out."

  "Cara can be so selfish sometimes." Bri gritted her teeth. "I just want to punch her."

  "Yeah. Me, too."

  Bri's phone rang. She and Savannah exchanged a look.

  "Who is it?" Savannah asked.

  "Unknown number," Bri said. She ran to the front room and accepted the call. "Hello?"

  "Bri?" asked a familiar male voice.

  "Who is this?" Bri asked. It didn't sound like Dean.

  "Sorry. It's Chad."

  Bri wanted to roll her eyes.

  "Who is it?" mouthed Savannah, coming into the room.

  "Chad," Bri mouthed back. Then she spoke into the phone. "What do you want?"

  "Have you guys heard back from her?" asked Chad.

  "No. Why are you calling?"

  "I'm worried. I have a really bad feeling."

  "Just keep your family safe."

  "I am," Chad said, "but I keep imagining her getting hurt. We should go to the police. They'll listen to me. I'm on a first-name basis with half the officers there."

  "I'm sure you are. Let us handle it, okay?"

  "Shouldn't we warn the neighborhood that we have a killer in our midst? People should know."

  Bri
sighed. "You're wearing me out."

  "We don't know where Lydia is, and she knows about his hobby," Chad said. "She's in danger."

  "I know that."

  "Look, Bri, if you don't go to the police, I will."

  "Are you really going to put your marriage on the line? Your wife is going to ask questions."

  "I'm a concerned neighbor."

  "Right." Bri snorted.

  "This is ridiculous." The call ended.

  Bri swore.

  "What?" Savannah asked.

  "I think Chad's going to the cops."

  "Maybe that isn't a bad thing."

  "I don't know what to think." Bri sat down on a recliner.

  Savannah sat on the one next to her. "Well, it's better than this. Waiting…wondering."

  Bri looked out the window. "I wish one of them would answer their phones."

  "So do I. But they won't, so I think we should just try to enjoy ourselves."

  "While our friends are in danger?" Bri asked.

  "Well, we do need to keep up a good atmosphere for the girls, right? You don't want them picking up on the fact that something could be wrong." Savannah looked up at the stairs.

  Bri followed her gaze, and saw Elsie and Addison standing at the top.

  "The movie's over," Addison said.

  "Put on a TV show," Bri said. "We'll get you when the pizza's here."

  "Pizza!" both girls squealed, and ran off.

  "I think they'll provide a good distraction for us." Savannah grinned, but Bri could tell it was forced.

  "That they will." Bri looked at her phone again, knowing there were no missed calls.

  "Maybe we should stick our phones in a corner, and forget about them for a while," Savannah said.

  "What if Lydia or Cara tries to call?"

  "There isn't much we'd be able to do for them even if they did, which they won't."

  "We might." Bri frowned, staring at the screen.

  "Maybe you should look at it harder," Savannah said. "You could will them to call back."

  Bri grabbed a throw pillow and chucked it at Savannah's head.

  Savannah laughed. "That's more like it. There's the Bri we all know and love."

  Bri's phone rang. She looked over at Savannah, and they both exchanged a fearful expression.

  Taken

  Lydia froze, but tried to act natural. "Dean. What are you doing here?"

  "What am I doing here? You're the one staying in a fleabag motel. Isn't a place like this beneath you?"

  Keeping her eyes on him, she focused on the periphery. She would have to run, but he would likely catch up given the sandals she had on.

  "Why are you here?" she asked. "I didn't think you were back in town already."

  "A little birdie told me you were staying here. I didn't believe him, but it looks like I was proven wrong."

  Still taking in the surroundings, Lydia asked, "But why are you looking for me?"

  "What are you doing here?" he snarled.

  "Research." She continued to look for the best way of escape.

  "For what?" Dean sneered.

  She stared into his eyes. "My job."

  "You mean that column you write…Layla?"

  Her eyes widened. Dean knew about that? Even her pen name?

  Dean laughed. "I know a lot more about you than you think."

  Lydia flipped her hair behind her shoulder. "Well, I need to get going so I can turn in my article in time."

  "How are they going to pay you with all your accounts on hold?"

  She narrowed her eyes. "You did that?"

  "You left me with no other choice."

  Her mind spun. "Wait. How did you find me here? Did you follow me?"

  "All I had to do was call the cell phone provider and tell them we lost the phone." He shrugged. "You're not the only resourceful one."

  "I learned from the best." Lydia stepped back.

  Dean stepped closer. "But you haven't seen all my tricks."

  Lydia swallowed. "I have a good imagination."

  "I know you do. Like with that coupon you found?"

  "Oh, that?" Lydia asked. "I thought you were getting back into golf. No?"

  "When was the last time I was into golf, Lyds?" He leaned in closer, and she smelled perfume on him.

  "Not since before you started traveling, and whatever else you've been doing."

  Dean laughed, and Lydia took advantage of his moment of distraction. She turned around and ran. He didn't miss a beat—she heard his footsteps not a moment later. She dropped her bags and darted down some stairs.

  She could hear him close behind. Between her sandals and the stairs, she knew he had the advantage since he was in sneakers.

  "What are you running from?" Dean called. "Think you have a reason to be scared of me?" He fingers brushed against the back of her bare arm.

  Lydia ignored him, put her hand over the railing and started skipping steps. She might fall, but it was worth the risk if she could get enough ahead of him.

  She looked toward her parked car. That was out of the question because she'd dropped everything. She made it to the last step without losing her balance.

  "Why not give up now?" Dean asked. "You know I'm going to catch you eventually."

  Lydia kicked her sandals off, running faster. The hot pavement stung, but it was better than being slowed down by the footwear.

  "Hey!"

  She looked back to see Dean stumbling over a sandal. Good. He corrected his footing, and Lydia turned her attention to what was in front of her. She was nearing a wall, so she would either have to go right and stay on the sidewalk, or dart underneath some stairs. She couldn't risk being cornered, so she followed the sidewalk.

  The pavement tore the skin on Lydia's feet, but she ignored the pain. Dean yelled at her to stop, but she kept going. Did he really expect her to surrender that easily?

  She reached the sidewalk by the main road. With any luck, she would run into another pedestrian and get help. Cars would be of no use. They zoomed by at about fifty miles an hour. The only hope they offered her was that someone might see her running from Dean, and later recognize them if Lydia ended up missing.

  They ran past a strip mall, and then there was a break of trees. It looked like it led to some woods behind the mall and possibly the motel, too. Lydia regretted kicking off the sandals as she ran over the rocky dirt. Some rocks were sharp and cut into her skin.

  At least she was able to leave behind DNA evidence if anyone ever went looking. She tried to go faster, but couldn't because of the painful rocks. Dean was getting closer—she could hear his breathing from behind.

  "Lydia, stop. We need to talk."

  "Talk? You just want to talk?" She squeezed between some close trees, hoping he would have a harder time getting through than her.

  She looked back, and saw that he managed without much difficulty. It was only a matter of time before he caught her. Lydia knew she had to come to terms with it, and decide what she would do to fight him off or try to get attention from anyone who might be close enough to hear them.

  Lydia climbed over a mossy log, and the soft carpeting felt good on her pained feet. She wished she could stop, but Dean continued to get closer.

  "Let's talk about this, Lydia. I don't want to hurt you."

  "Really?" Is that why you're chasing me through woods? Why I had to drop all my stuff?"

  "I didn't tell you to run."

  She shook her head, and continued going. She felt his fingers brush against the back of her shoulder. Lydia tried to go faster, but stepped really hard on a sharp rock, and tumbled down to the ground.

  Dean reached for her, and she screamed as loud as she could. Her throat was going to hurt in the morning—if she made it that long.

  "Stop. Shut up, Lydia. Just let me help you up."

  "Why? So you can do to me what you did to the others?"

  He grabbed her wrist, and yanked her up. "So, you know about them? How many?"

  "Enough.
" She spit in his face. "How could you?"

  Dean wiped his face. "I didn't mean to, not the first time, anyway."

  "What? You got a taste for it?"

  "Something like that. It started out as just another one-night stand." He laughed. "You'd be surprised how many women are more than happy to do what you weren't."

  "What does that have to do with killing them?"

  His eyes lit up. "I don't kill most of them. Like I said, the first one was an accident. She started arguing with me and I shoved her. We were at the top of the stairs. I probably don't have to fill in the details. It was a rush to realize how much power I had—I have. I couldn't stop thinking about it, and eventually, I couldn't wait to do it again. So, I did."

  "You make me sick. Don't you know the normal response to accidentally killing someone is guilt? Remorse?"

  He squeezed her arm. "I was afraid, but then I realized what a rush it is. Life was so stressful back home, but that…that was a thrill."

  "So, now you're trying to blame me?"

  "Blame? No. If you hadn't turned into the ice queen, I never would have discovered what I was really meant for."

  "Are you for real?" Lydia asked.

  "Come on. I'll tell you about it in the car."

  She pulled away. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

  "You have to, Lyds. Now that you know my secret, it's your only choice."

  "Why don't you just stop? You have to know it's wrong. That's why you hide it."

  He grabbed her arm again, this time squeezing so tight it cut off the circulation.

  "That's where you're wrong. I keep it secret because no one understands. They've made something so beautiful illegal."

  "Beautiful? You're so full of—"

  "You'd have to experience it to understand. That's the problem. Not enough people have gotten the joy."

  Lydia shook her head, at a loss for words.

  "Let's go back home. You can think about whether you want to join me or if you're going to force me to add you to my list."

  There was no chance she would ever join him, but if she pretended to consider, she would be able to buy herself some time. "You want me by your side?"