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“To hell with her,” he swore, jumping and storming back to the master bedroom. As he entered, he ripped opened his shirt and paid no heed to the buttons as they cannonballed across the room.

Once again, Josephine Ferrell had made a fool out of him, and he had no one to blame but himself. He turned on the shower and set the temperature to scalding hot. It was a justified punishment as far as he was concerned, but unfortunately his thoughts refused to focus on anything other than Josie.

As he started to slide off his shirt, he heard something.

What was that? Will’s ears perked at an undistinguishable sound. Frowning, he leaned forward and shut off the water and strained to hear the noise again.

“Josie?” he asked, with measured trepidation. It had to be her, he reasoned; but he had no explanation for his hackles standing at attention.

“Josie?”

The sound of footsteps stopped when he arrived at the bottom of the stairs. He reached for a light switch and was stunned when the lights didn’t come on. He needed a weapon.

He turned, and then rocked back when something hard slammed into his chin. He quickly shook it off and came up swinging at the thin air. His efforts were rewarded with a steel punch to his abdomen. Air rushed from his lungs, and, before he could refill them, something crashed against the back of his skull and knocked him out cold.

#

Josie struggled to get back to William’s house. However, she was having very little success. Instead, she had once again pulled into an empty lot, where she tried to combat another withdrawal spell. It was a bad one. Behind her closed lids, a dizzying kaleidoscope of colors spun around her, and an eerie cackle of laughter pierced her eardrums.

Suddenly, Josie was pulled from the memory. Her body seemed to float above itself. Then she was soaring. Faster, and faster until she woke up with a gasp. Darkness surrounded her in the vehicle; her labored breathing was the only sound. She glanced around nervously, and then her head slumped against the steering wheel.

“Why?” she sobbed. Why did she shoot him? Why didn’t he try to defend himself?

She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. Seven-thirty. She was missing nearly two hours. What happened?

“I need to get out of here,” she said, though she didn’t quite know where here was. Her head pounded mercilessly, reminding her she still hadn’t taken anything to relieve the pain.

Josie started the SUV, but took a few more minutes to get her bearings. One glance in the rearview mirror, and she concluded that she felt as bad as she looked.

She drove out of the parking lot and tried to find out exactly where she was. Though she mad managed to calm herself, she was still scared. What if whatever her sister had done to her was irreversible?

Her mouth was dry, and she reached for the small cup of water, and her arm knocked over the green bottle of Excedrin.

The sound of it falling and hitting the seat seemed as if it had happened in slow motion. Her hackles rose as a platoon of goose bumps prickled her skin. And then it hit her.

She pulled over to the side of the road and dug the bottle.

For as long as Josie could remember, she suffered with migraines at least once a week. Everyone knew that. Josie picked up the bottle and stared at it with new eyes.

Michelle would have noticed her frequent headaches and her dependency on her favorite pain reliever.

“That bitch.”

An angry Josie pulled herself together and started up the car again. After getting lost a couple of times, she finally pulled into William’s driveway forty-five minutes later. At the sight of the black Navigator, Josie cursed under her breath. She had a lot of explaining to do.

At the door, she took a deep breath and stepped inside. Immediately, she sensed that things were amiss.

Her hands roamed around the walls in search of a light switch. When she finally found one, nothing happened when she clicked it on.

“William?” she called out in a shaky whisper. Her voice echoed hauntingly through the house in shaky legs. When she walked into the dining room, she gasped in surprise at the over-turned furniture and the crunch of broken glass underfoot.

The thought of William lying hurt somewhere in the house was the only reason she didn’t bolt out of there. However, every muscle was coiled, while the tiniest of hairs stood at attention.

“William?” she called again. At the silence, her eyes blurred with tears. Had Michelle’s goon figured out where she was staying?

Next, she entered the living room. The moonlight illuminated its total destructing. Her heart sank, while her search for William became a desperate need.

At the base of the stairs, she slipped on something wet and hit the floor with a loud thud. Timidly, she touched the sticky substance.

A horrified scream rang in her ears as she tried to scramble away. Glass cut into her skin as she pushed herself off the floor and went back through the house. When she was back in the living room, her gaze caught sight of letters printed on a mirror above the fireplace.

Josie stopped in her tracks and read the eerie message, “Tag. You’re it.”

Chapter 35

Michelle smiled when the phone rang. “I wonder who that could be,” she mused to herself. She stood from the bar and walked over to the dainty gold and white phone. She waited for the third ring before she picked up. When she answered, she made sure honey oozed off her words. “Hello. Ferrell residence, Josephine speaking.” “Where’s William?” Josie hissed through the phone. “Ah, sister dear. How did I know it would be you?” “You’re insane. I’m calling the police.”

“Ah, ah, ah, ah,” Michelle sang. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. If you do, you’d be signing your beloved doctor’s death certificate.”

When Josie failed to respond, Michelle’s high cackle filled the line. “You’re not going to call anyone, or have you forgotten about Daniel?”

“Very clever how you replaced the pills in the Excedrin.”

“You like that, did you? Too bad you didn’t catch on sooner. Of course, I have to admit that was pretty smooth what you pulled off at the bank. It’s a shame that you’ll have to give it all back.”

“Not on your life.”

Michelle’s frowned as she twisted the phone cord around her fingers. “Don’t push me, Josie. You’re running out of places to hide.”

“You’re sick.”

“No. I’m just ambitious. I see what I want, and I go after it. You weren’t doing anything with your life; just sitting in some big apartment in Paris bitching about how you couldn’t sing anymore. Boo-hoo. Me, on the hand, I know how to enjoy money. I should’ve been adopted by a rich family, not you.”

“Should I play my violin for you, Michelle? I can even play it when they sentence you to death. How many people have you killed now?”

“Two fewer than I should have; but I plan to rectify that tonight, starting with your beloved doctor.”

Another silence hung over the line before Michelle’s mad laugh returned.

“What’s the matter, sister dear? Cat got your tongue? I didn’t put two and two together. Until now. Dr. William Hayes, the one that got away. It’s quite a coincidence that you two would run into each other again at Keystone. I have to admit, I was baffled how you got out of that hospital the night I came to kill you, but now it all makes perfect sense.”

“How did you…?”

“Find him?” Michelle laughed. “I have you and your breaking and entering to thank for that. You dropped a few photographs on your way out.”