Darla walked down the stacked cinder blocks that served as stairs to the lower part of the basement. She knelt on the floor in front of Lena, checking to make sure the rope was still tightly tied. Incongruously, she put her hand to Lena ’s forehead. “Still with us?”
Lena could only stare. Even if her mouth wasn’t gagged, she doubted she could say anything to the nurse. Her throat was too dry. Her brain was having difficulty holding on to one thought at a time. She couldn’t form the words to articulate her questions. Why had Darla done this? Why had she killed Jason? Why had she killed Allison? It didn’t make any sense.
“You’re in the basement of the clinic.” Darla pressed her fingers to Lena ’s wrist, for all intents and purposes acting like a caring nurse instead of a savage murderer. Hours ago, Lena had interrupted Darla cleaning blood off the bat that had slammed into the back of Jason Howell’s head. She was bleaching the gloves she had used, trying to hide evidence. And now she was checking Lena ’s pulse and trying to see if she had a fever.
Darla told her, “This is some kind of bomb shelter or tornado shelter or something.” She looked at her watch a few seconds longer. “I doubt Sara remembers it’s even down here. I found it a while ago when I was looking for a place to stash some files.”
Lena glanced around the room. With the light on, she could see the concrete walls, the small metal door. Darla was right. They were in a bunker.
“I never liked Tolliver much,” the nurse said. “I know a lot of people blamed you for what happened, but he could be a prick, let me tell you.”
Lena kept staring, wondering why the woman was picking now to open her soul.
“And Sara’s no better. Thinks she walks on water because she got that medical degree. I used to babysit her when she was little. Nothing but a little know-it-all.”
Lena didn’t bother to try to disagree.
“I never wanted to kill you,” Darla said. Lena felt a laughing sound in her throat that came out more like a groan. “I just gotta get out of town, and I know you won’t let me do that if I let you go.”
She had that right.
“Daddy had a heart attack.” She sat back on her heels. “You know Frank’s my daddy, right?”
Lena felt her eyebrows go up. A flood of adrenaline let her brain think for the first time in hours. Frank had mentioned his daughter when they were driving away from Allison Spooner’s homicide scene. Did he know then that Darla had committed the crime? He sure as hell was covering up for her. Lena couldn’t even remember all the things he had hidden from Will. The photograph. Tommy’s phone. The 911 call. Was this what Frank meant when he said that Lena couldn’t see what was right in front of her? Christ, he was right. She didn’t know the truth when it was staring her in the face. How many other clues had she missed? How many other people were going to be hurt because Lena was so blind?
“Do you carry a purse?”
The question was so strange Lena thought she was hearing things.
“A pocketbook?” Darla asked. “Where do you keep your keys?”
Lena didn’t answer.
“I can’t take that piece-of-shit Accord out of town. The engine light’s been on for weeks. I thought I’d get a new one once the checks cleared, but…” She checked Lena ’s pockets and found her key ring. Her house key was on there, in addition to the keys for Frank’s Town Car and Lena ’s Celica. “You got any money on you?”
Lena nodded because there was no use lying.
Darla checked Lena ’s back pocket and pulled out two twenties. “Well, I guess that’ll pay for gas.” She tucked the cash into the front pocket of her uniform. “I’m gonna have to ask Daddy for some money. I really hate that.” She smoothed down the pink material of her uniform. “I guess I should feel some remorse about what’s happened, but the truth is that I just don’t want to get caught. I can’t go to prison. I can’t be trapped like that.”
Lena kept staring at her.
“If they’d’a just left me alone and kept quiet, none of this would’ve happened.”
Lena tried to swallow. She could hear her heart doing that weird, flopping beat in her chest. She must be more dehydrated than she thought. Her hands and feet were numb. Her legs tingled. Her body was shutting down blood flow to the extremities in order to keep the core functioning.
“Daddy and me don’t get along too good.” Darla tucked her hand into the front pocket of her smock. “I get the feeling most days he’d prefer you was his daughter, but we don’t get to choose our family, do we?” She pulled out a syringe. “This is Versed. It’ll take some of the anxiety off and put you to sleep. I’m sorry I don’t have enough to put you to sleep for good, but this should make it easier. You’re not gonna live much longer-maybe five or six hours. That infection in your hand’s spreading pretty quick. You’re probably already feeling your heart slowing down.”
Lena felt her throat try to swallow.
“What happens is, your body starts to shut down. Your nerves go crazy. Usually there’s a lot of pain. Sometimes you’re awake for it, sometimes you’re not. Do you want the shot?”
Lena looked at the capped syringe. What kind of choice was that?
“Nobody’s gonna come save you. The clinic’s not gonna open again until next Monday, and by then the smell’s the only thing that’s gonna let them know you’re here.” She glanced over her shoulder. “I guess I should leave the door exposed so they don’t have to look much. Some of the people here ain’t been too bad.”
Lena tried to speak, to form the only word that mattered in all of this: why?
“What’s that?”
Lena groaned the word again. Her lips couldn’t meet because of the gag, but the question was clear enough to her ears. “Why?”
Darla smiled. She understood what Lena was asking, but she wasn’t about to give an answer. Instead, she repeated her offer, waving the syringe in the air. “You want it or not?”
Lena shook her head, vehement. She couldn’t black out. She couldn’t let go. Her consciousness was the only thing she had any power over.
Darla took the cap off the syringe and jabbed the needle into Lena ’s arm anyway.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
SARA WAITED IN HER CAR FOR WILL TO COME DOWN FROM THE apartment over the garage. He had asked for a few minutes to change into clothes that were less dirty than the ones he’d worn all day. Sara had welcomed the time to regain her composure. Her anger had settled to a low simmer, but she would’ve thrown the car in gear and driven to Hare’s house right now if not for Will. Why was she surprised that her cousin was mixed up in something so seedy? Hare had never hidden the fact that he liked having money. Sara liked it, too, but she wasn’t willing to sell her soul in the process.
The car door opened. Will climbed behind the wheel. He was wearing a white button-down shirt and a fresh pair of jeans. He gave her an odd look. “Did you wash my clothes?”
Sara laughed at the suggestion. “No.”
“All my clothes are washed. And ironed.” He picked at the crease on his jeans. “And starched.”
She knew only one person who ironed jeans. “I’m sorry. My mother enjoys doing laundry. I can’t explain it.”
“It’s fine,” he said, but she could tell by his strained tone that he was slightly put out.
“Did she mess anything up?”
“No.” He adjusted the seat so his head wasn’t pressed into the ceiling. “I’ve just never had anybody wash my clothes for me before.” The gearshift had a learning curve, but he figured it out quickly, putting the engine into drive. He turned off the windshield wipers as he pulled into the street. The rain had slacked off. Sara could actually see the moon peeking out between the clouds.