Page 62 of In the Dead of Night

“You’re going to claim authorship?” Struggling not to make her movement visible, she began to feel for the numbers with her fingertip.

“Give the lady a star.” He shifted the gun to her face. “Take your hand off that damn cell phone. Now!”

Sara raised both hands. “Brett, don’t do this.”

“Toss me the phone. Do it!”

The last thing Sara wanted to do was part with her phone. It was her only connection to the outside world. Her last connection to Nick. But with a gun leveled at her head, she didn’t have a choice.

Her hand shook as she unclipped the phone from her belt and tossed it to Brett. “What are you going to do with me?”

He caught the phone, turned it off and dropped it into his pocket. “I’ve given the subject some thought. I’m afraid this particular story isn’t going to have a happy ending.”

Sara knew exactly what he meant. He was going to kill her. “Don’t do it, Brett. You can’t possibly get away. Nick Tyson knows everything. Run while you still can.”

He clucked his tongue again, looking at her as if she were a slow-witted child. “Not my style, darling. Besides, Tyson has no proof of anything.” He patted the manuscript. “It’s all right here and now I have it in my hands.”

“You’re forgetting one small detail.” Sara glanced toward the door, measured the distance between her and Stocker, wondering if she could get out before he fired a killing shot.

“What are you talking about?”

“If you kill me, you’ll have a body to dispose of. A murder to explain.”

“That’s why you’re going to commit suicide. You see, this pilgrimage into the past, the deaths of your parents, proved too much for you to bear.” A smile twisted his thin mouth. “You won’t be the first person to jump from these cliffs to perish on the rocks below.”

“No one will believe it.”

“They’ll believe this.” From his pocket, he produced a small folded paper and handed it to her.

Sara reached for it, her fingers closing around it. But he yanked it back at the last moment. “It’s from the library printer. You were there. Now it has your prints on it.” He unfolded the note and read.

To Nick and Sonia.

I’m sorry to be saying goodbye this way. But coming back has been too much to bear. I have too much sadness in my heart. I hope you’ll forgive me. I love you both.

Sara.

He refolded the note, and for the first time she noticed the flesh-colored latex gloves he wore. “Tragic but clever, don’t you think?”

“I think you’re a sick bastard.”

He put his hand to his chest in feigned affront. “Your harsh words wound me.”

Sara could feel her heart beating out of control, the adrenaline running like wildfire through her body. Fear had taken hold of her, like a giant bird of prey gripping her with talons. She needed to think. There had to be a way out of this. But she was quickly running out of time.

Nick, where are you?

She looked at Brett Stocker, her mind whirling. “Why the phone calls?” she asked, genuinely curious. “Why did you need me here at all? You could have found the manuscript on your own and you wouldn’t have had a murder to cover up.”

He pointed at her as if she’d been a naughty child. “You have no idea how difficult this has been.” Not expecting her to answer, he continued. “I broke into this house several times. Being an amateur criminal, it was not easy. But I searched this old dump from top to bottom multiple times. I did this for a year, but I never found it.” His eyes landed on hers and he smiled. “I knew if anyone could find it, it would be you.”

But Sara’s mind was already jumping ahead to other questions that had begun to spin in her head. Looking at Brett, seeing him in the raincoat with water dripping down and a gun in his hand, a flash of memory assailed her. “Your father murdered them, didn’t he?”

“I always believed the theory the police had set forth. Then two years ago, after my father had his first stroke and he was lying in his hospital bed, he told me everything. He told me about the snuff films he’d made. The young women he’d murdered. He told me about the tell-all book your parents and Nicholas Tyson were working on. They were going to ruin him. Ruin everything he’d ever worked for. His reputation. They were going to send him to prison.” An odd light entered Brett’s eyes. “He said those women were indecent, anyway. They contributed nothing to society. No one would miss them. He said he was doing the world a favor by getting rid of them.”

“That’s incredibly vile,” Sara said.

“But financially rewarding.” Brett loosened the collar of his shirt. “My father enjoyed his just rewards, and now I’m going to enjoy mine.”

Sara knew what would happen next. He would order her from the house. March her to the cliffs and force her to jump to her death.

“What about the messages?” she asked quickly.

“I have no earthly idea what you’re talking about.”

“Someone wrote warnings on my car. Twice. They used red finger paint.”

“Obviously, it wasn’t me. But then we digress. Your time is up.” Raising the pistol, he pulled back the slide. “Lace your hands behind your head and walk out the door. Nice and easy. You got that?”

Sara raised her hands, but they were shaking so badly she couldn’t lace them. “Brett, it doesn’t have to be this way. Please. Take the manuscript and run.”

“I swear I’ll blow a hole in you.” He jammed the gun at her. “Now walk out that door or I’ll shoot you where you stand.”