When the Heart Lies Read online

  All she focused on was this isolated interlude, no future and no past. She’d completely lost reason. She shoved him with every ounce of strength she had as she shouted, “Fuck off! You don’t have the balls to use that.”

  Shaken, he grabbed a fist full of her hair, tight and close to the scalp so she couldn’t budge. He wrenched her neck backward, full force, and put the gun to her head. The click of the safety resonated in her ear. She froze.

  “Really wanna find that out, darlin’?”

  The butt of the gun slammed down hard onto her shoulder, making her fall to her knees. The blow hurt like a motherfucker, but she didn’t let one tear fall. Her face was inches from his soft nub. She imagined the sensation of stuffing her mouth with marshmallows and gagged.

  “Stop your shit. You’re nothing but a whore. His eyes narrowed, and he spoke between clenched teeth. “Do your job. And don’t you dare bite me.”

  She looked him dead in the eye, the act more of a challenge than a communication. “Well then you can just let me pull the trigger for you—because I don’t suck dead cock.”

  He raised his hand and brought the gun back down hard and fast. She flinched, but maintained eye contact as he hit her. The slamming of the gun onto the side of her head was the last sound she heard.

  Chapter 13

  Jackson glanced at the clock. Six a.m. Lying flat on his back, he stared at the ceiling of Olivia’s living room with his hands resting beneath his head. Olivia was sound asleep and still wasn’t awake when he finished showering. She definitely wasn’t a morning person, but she did think ahead. When he went to the kitchen to make coffee, the pot was full, hot, and ready. After taking a cautious sip, he looked at the cup and smiled. Olivia couldn’t cook, but she made good coffee. He glanced at his watch and then the phone, anxious to call and find out what went on at Wayde’s the previous night.

  Sipping his coffee, he explored around out of habit. One of the bookshelves in the dining area held knickknacks and a few pictures. One was of Xavier and Olivia standing on a yacht. Xavier stood behind her, his face next to hers. His arms hugged her waist. They appeared happy. He replaced the picture and went to get his phone to call the sub. It only rang once before the sub picked up.

  “Good morning, Percy. How did things go last night?”

  “Things were quiet. Just a lot of drinking, card playing, that sort of thing.”

  “That’s all? Nothing they said seemed peculiar to you? It’s hard to believe we haven’t gotten anything relevant since the audio was put in.”

  “That was about all until they went to bed. Then things got private. Once he told her to get on her knees and blow him, I cut the feed, only for about a half hour, it was quiet when I turned it on again. I’m a respectable man. Someone’s sex life is none of my business. Besides, there wasn’t any trouble tonight. Seemed pretty boring if you ask me.”

  “What the hell are you talking about! Who told you that you could cut the feed? Jackson turned in circles, his hands raking at his hair. “I’d like to reach through this phone and …” Instead, he threw a fastball with his coffee cup into the kitchen sink, smashing it. “What are you picking up now?”

  Olivia came rushing through the bedroom door while tying her robe. When she saw the broken coffee mug in the sink, she stared at him. “What the hell is going on out here, Jackson? Have you lost your mind?”

  “I’ll turn the feed back on,” Percy said.

  Jackson snapped his phone closed at the sound of Percy’s voice. “Where did you find this guy? He cut the God damn feed.”

  “Why?”

  “Why! What do you mean why?” His face tensed. He could feel the heat of his anger rising and stealing its way up his neck and cheeks. He turned from her, taking some time before turning back. “Wayde told her to get on her knees and blow him. Percy didn’t think he should be listening to someone else’s sex life. Christ, any of the guys I know would be dying to listen. This might have been the one time we actually got information.”

  “Why are you so overwrought? It’s not like you haven’t made similar statements.”

  He stepped forward, and his eyes shot daggers as he swatted down the air between them, attempting to wipe away her comment. “You eat that shit up! The last thing you want when you hit the bedroom is to be in charge.” His fist slammed down onto the counter.

  Instinctively, she backed away from the harshness of his voice. When she did, he grimaced, turned from her, and leaned against the wall, propping himself with his outstretched arm. It didn’t matter who the woman was. Seeing one back away because of his anger stabbed him.

  Glaring at him, she threw her hands up. “Believe me I’ll find out why he did something so stupid, but why are you making this about us?”

  His head fell back, and he slid both hands down his face and over his mouth as he exhaled. “It’s not about us. There is no ‘us’.” He dropped his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t… you know I didn’t mean it like it came out. She hates the guy, damn it. I know we could’ve heard something.”

  “No, this is not about ‘us’, and there is no ‘us’. I get it. You don’t have to beat the subject to death. I’ve known that for a long time. It’s about her. It’s always about her.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Xavier and Angela were enjoying a quiet Sunday morning and talking about their schedule for the week ahead. Angela’s phone rang, startling her. She glanced at it. It rang again. When it rang a third time, Xavier lowered his newspaper and looked at her in an inquisitive way. “Aren’t you going to answer your phone?”

  She reached into her purse, retrieved the phone, and took a quick glance at the caller ID. “It’s Carolyn. She’ll gab all day. I’ll let you read your paper in peace.” She grabbed a sweater and went out to the patio.

  He nodded and went back to his paper.

  Once she was far enough beyond the house, unable to be heard, she answered, but said nothing and waited.

  “You’re lucky I’m calling you and not your husband.”

  At the sound of Wayde’s voice, her hand went to her open mouth suppressing a yelp, and she held the back of the chair. “What are you talking about? Why would you say such a thing?” She rounded the chair and fell listless into the seat.

  “I’ve had enough of this bitch, and I been thinkin’. Who are you to tell me when we’re going to talk about money? How would you like your lifelong secrets to be revealed to your rich husband and your precious Nick?”

  Money, he wanted money. Wayde wasn’t the kind of man you wanted to deal with for any length of time, preferably not at all. “Okay, I guess you’ve done all you can for me. I’ll give you another fifty-thousand for your trouble, and I’ll come and visit you. I promise.” She closed her eyes and appeared to be praying.

  “Things change. They might not be comin’ home ‘til I get a half million dollars. If you call the police, you won’t see either of them again.”

  “Why? What’s changed? You haven’t done anything wrong. Just threats. You said you don’t want any trouble. Now you’re talking about kidnapping and maybe murder?” Speaking too fast, her breathing became thick and short. The palm of her hand pressed hard against her forehead, and she swayed. Her hands began trembling. “I’ll take care of it. Money like that will be noticed. It’s a lot. Don’t hurt them, either of them. That isn’t supposed to happen. I need a little time.”

  Just as Xavier came out onto the patio, the phone dropped from her hands, and she fell from the chair reaching for it.

  He ran to her. “Angela!”

  Trying to choke out words, she gasped. Her fingers bent and curled, the only movement from the arm that had been reaching for the phone. Madness shone in her eyes as she tried to speak, and then they closed.

  “Jonathan! Jonathan!” Xavier bent over her, rolling her from her side to her back. Her breathing became shallow. He turned in the direction of Jonathan’s footsteps. “Call 911! It’s Angela. I think she’s had a stroke. Don’t try to talk Angela. I’m here. Y
ou’re going to be fine. I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.” Sitting on the concrete with her in his arms, he rocked to soothe her.

  Chapter 14

  Wayde put some of Max’s things into Kinsley’s suitcase and brought Max out to the truck. After tossing the suitcase into the truck bed, he reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet, and took the picture of Angela from the billfold. Staring at the tattered photo as he had done so many times over the years, his eyes glazed. He looked away as his hand opened and closed several times, crumpling the paper memory. After removing the handy Bic lighter from his T-shirt pocket, he ignited the crinkly photo he now held between his fingers like a rat by its tail. He tossed the burning photo to the ground and headed down to Veda’s place with Max.

  She was coming from the barn when he pulled up. He exited the truck quickly, got Max out, and took him to her.

  “Hey, Veda, I need you to take Max. Kinsley she’s got real upset again. Said she needs to go back to Lakeside. See if that doctor can help her like he did before. Probably only be a couple of days. She said you’d help out.”

  Veda leaned on the top of the shovel she held, gave him a distrustful stare, and reached out for Max’s hand. “Lakeside, huh. I’ll take him. He’s no problem. Him being here will put Kinsley’s mind to rest, I know that. C’mon over here with me, baby. You can play with Colt until your mommy comes home.”

  Max slipped his arm around Veda’s leg and hugged her as he buried his free hand into his tired eyes and rubbed.

  “I’ll go get his things.” Wayde hustled to the truck and back, gave her Max’s things, and got back to the house.

  Remy’s big ol’ Caddy was already in the driveway. Wayde entered quietly and in a low voice began giving Remy, who sat sipping coffee at the kitchen table, directions. “I’ll take care of Kinsley. Be quiet now. I don’t want Savannah waking up.”

  Remy scoffed. “Shit, Savannah ain’t gonna wake up. I could fuck that girl twice, and she’d still be passed out.”

  He smacked the back of Remy’s head as he walked past him to the bedroom. “Get some supplies for the cabin ready. Put them in the back seat. We’re gonna need the trunk.”

  Kinsley was on the floor where he’d left her the previous night, unconscious from the whack on the head. He kicked her in the ass with his boot. She made a few sounds, but clearly, she wasn’t coming around any time soon. He bent over her and poured half the glass of water he’d picked up from bedside table directly over her mouth and nose. With her first breath, she sucked the water into her lungs. Instinctively, she lifted her body from the floor and turned on all fours, hacking and choking.

  “Good, you’re awake.” He stepped behind her, pulled her head back roughly, and stuffed a cotton sock into her mouth. Next, he bound her mouth with duct tape. Panicking with increasing fear, she started to flail wildly. He seized her by the arm and yanked her up. She tried to peek out of the room to see if Max was in the house, but she couldn’t tell. Hoping to find some ounce of humanity in him, her eyes begged and pleaded for mercy.

  “Here’s what’s happening. You’re gonna get some things together, just necessities. Don’t think about sneaking out the door or the window. Remy or I’ll be watching.” He pointed to the tape. “You’re not gonna take that off either. I found the bitch’s audio buds. And she’s gonna regret spying on me. I’m no dummy, I had a hunch she might be listening. Gathering something to use against me if things ever got too hot for her. She’s got nothing on me. I been real careful. The only thing she hears is what I want her to hear. I learnt a long time ago, ya can’t trust no woman.”

  Kinsley had no idea what he was talking about, and it scared her.

  “If I let you go, you gonna fight me?”

  She shook her head.

  “Good, ‘cause I got that boy of yours, and if you want him safe, you’ll do what I say.” He jerked her around a bit and then released her arm with a shove.

  She put her hand on her mouth again, motioning to him. She wanted the tape off.

  “I said it ain’t comin’ off. You got five minutes. Get some things together.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Get a move on. Remy has everything almost ready.”

  She shook her head violently, pleading again. Remy scared her. Her stomach churned. If she puked, she’d choke to death. When Wayde left, she quietly closed the crack in the open doorway. Immediately, she reached under the dresser and grabbed the pills. The bottle slipped from her shaky hands and bopped from one to the other until it finally settled. She rushed to the closet, pulled the remaining pills from the jacket pocket she had hidden them in, emptied them into the bottle without further incident, and then searched around for a place where he wouldn’t find them.

  The tampon box.

  With haste, she shook the tampons out and placed the pills deep inside. So the box would still appear full, she replaced some of the tampons, and then she threw the box and her purse into a duffel bag he’d thrown on the floor for her. All remained quiet outside the door. Max couldn’t be in the house. She sat down on the bed. Her head was pounding from a lump half the size of a big-mouth gumball. Her nostrils flared as she sucked a breath in deeply. Air passed in and out of her lungs, but her mind wouldn’t believe it and panicked anyway. She was positive she’d suffocate.

  Wayde and Remy entered the room; Wayde held a gun, Remy a rope. Expressionless, helpless, and hopeless, she looked up at them.

  Wayde’s eyes were glassy and focused. You could almost read the treacherous plan building behind them. “Get on your stomach.”

  She lowered herself to the floor and rolled over onto her stomach.

  “Hands and ankles tight,” he said to Remy in a quiet, controlled voice; the embodiment of a soldier who couldn’t let the enemy hear.

  Remy bent down and started tying her.

  “You got your car pulled around the back?” Wayde asked.

  Remy nodded.

  “I’m gonna go check and make sure we got everything we need. Go ahead and wrap her up in the quilt.”

  Her eyes opened wide with fear, and she faced Wayde hoping to change his mind. He simply walked out of the room.

  Remy leaned in close to her. “Got you now, Queenie.” He smiled, swaying his head slowly back and forth over her face.

  He moved rapidly, and she turned her face to the side. Like a dog, he barked piercingly into her ear. She winced as sharp pains zipped though her head. He rolled her into the old musty quilt. When he placed it over her face, her mind was thick with dread. Her thoughts were no longer fast and unrestrained, but sluggish and morose. A voice invaded her thoughts, telling her repeatedly to go to sleep don't struggle and you won't even realize you're suffocating to death. She heard Wayde come into the room.

  “Get the God damn quilt off her face. We need her alive, at least for the time being.”

  Her only considerations were of Max. She may have written his death sentence by bringing him to Wayde’s and given it her stamp of approval with her insolence toward him last night.

  “Now, I want you to listen to me, you understand?”

  She nodded.

  “When Remy carries you out and puts you into the trunk, I don’t want you to move. No kicking or nothin’ while you’re inside either. Quiet as a mouse. If you want your little boy alive, that’s what’s gonna happen. Understand?”

  A twinge of relief, Max was still alive. She nodded in agreement.

  “Get her into the trunk, Remy, and then get the God damn blanket off her. We’re leaving here at seven-thirty sharp.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Jackson drove past Wayde’s house at a slow pace, studying the area before he continued down the road to meet with Veda. Dew from the overnight rain covered the windshields of Wayde and Savannah’s vehicles. The morning was damp and dreary, but the day promised to be hot and humid. The sun hid behind the grey, overcast sky, already heating the heavy air.

  Eight o’clock on a Sunday morning wasn’t the opportun
e time for the questioning of neighbors. It seemed they were early risers, though. The lights were on, and a light mist of steam filtered from the clothes dryer exhaust duct that stuck out from the side of the trailer. As he pulled in, three dogs came up to the truck door, barking. They didn’t appear to be vicious. A man opened the front door of the trailer just as Jackson rolled down his window. A woman stepped up behind the man.

  He held his badge out of the truck’s window. “Police business. I need to step out and talk to you.” He motioned his head toward the dogs. The man called them off. He got out and walked to the door holding his hand out. Reluctantly, the man shook it.

  “Sorry about bothering you so early on a Sunday morning, but the matter is pressing. My name’s Jackson Pierce. I’m a private investigator under the jurisdiction of the Le Grand Police Department.”

  The man took a good look at him and craned his neck around to get a better view of the truck. “All the way over here?”

  He pulled out Olivia’s card. “If you'd like to give this woman a call over in Le Grand, she can verify my reasons for being here.”

  The woman stepped out in front of the man. “Scott, don’t bother with that. Mr. Pierce, I’m Veda. This is my husband, Scott. C’mon in.”

  Scott frowned with a shrug and moved aside letting them pass by.

  “You’re here about Kinsley aren’t you, Jackson? Scott, I told you something was wrong.”

  Hearing her use his name with such familiarity made Jackson wonder if Kinsley had told her about him. He didn’t let the thought linger. He was more concerned with the task at hand.

  Scott put his hand against the back of his neck, stretched backward, and closed his eyes. “Well, you may have been right this time, Veda, but I’ve always been taught to keep out of people’s private business.” Scott motioned Veda over to the coffee pot and nodded toward the chair offering him a seat. “I don’t know much about those people. Most of your talkin’ is probably going to be with Veda.”