serial killer superstars.
And dead.
The house on Orchard Avenue in Cherrystone had seen its occupants find their way back to a closer, more loving relationship than they had before mother and daughter were held captive by the serial killer's son. It had been a slow climb back to their normal lives. Jenna obsessed about her father's new baby, his betrayal, and the nightmares of the bunker. But she was determined to get over it as was Emily. In many ways, David had become part of her past, just as he started anew with Dani and their daughter, Cassandra. Custody gripes involving Jenna were no longer an issue. David didn't fight for his daughter to visit, and she didn't balk when the time came.
They found balance in forgiveness.
Emily had worked out the loose ends-a phrase that caused her to wince-with the help of Christopher Collier, who'd made a rapid and remarkable recovery from the gunshot wound to the chest. They talked on the phone and even dated a couple of times. Where all of that would lead was beyond the point right then.
'I just want to heal and move on,' Emily told him one night late as they were talking on the phone. 'But when I do, I want you there'
'Promise?' he asked.
'Promise. Definitely, a promise.'
One fall evening, the air crisp as a freshly laundered man's dress shirt, Jenna was in her bedroom, pink keyboard and mouse in hand. On the screen was a chat window with bestfriend-forever Shali Patterson, who by then had a new VW, and was delighted with all the attention her part in the ordeal had brought her. She was the best friend of a kickass girl, one who saved her mom from a serial killer's kid. Nice. The girls chatted about their senior year and who would be crowned homecoming queen later that week. Jenna dared to dream that it would be her. In no small way, she felt she did deserve it. Saving her mom was a bigger deal than being yearbook editor.
With its characteristic chime, her Instant Messenger account announced a name she'd almost forgotten- Batboy88. She could scarcely believe her eyes. A wave of panic hit her.
Batboy88: Hey Jengrrl!
Jenna froze at her keyboard.
Batboy88: You there?
Nick was in county jail. He didn't have access to a PC.
Batboy88: Missed U!
Jenna found her voice. 'Mom!'
Emily was in the kitchen soaking a dreadfully dried-on lasagna pan when she heard Jenna's scream from down the hallway. The timbre of her daughter's voice suggested trouble and fear shot through her. There had been screams for her before, night terrors, as she recalled the dark hours in the bunker. The idea that she'd been so close, a hairsbreadth from evil. But this was too early in the evening.
She found her very still, in front of the screen, staring at it with disbelieving eyes.
'Mom, it's an IM from Nick.'
Emily's face went pale. 'It can't be' She peered over Jenna's shoulder. 'This is someone playing a game' Emily gently pushed her daughter aside and sat down. She started typing.
Jengrrl: Who is this?
Batboy88: Who do U think?
Emily looked up at her daughter, her keys tapping slowly. She hit the ENTER button again.
Jengrrl: You aren't Nick. I know that. Who r u?
Batboy88: When I get out, you want to go to r place, u
know, the mining camp?
Without even thinking, Emily reached over and quickly yanked the plug from the outlet. The screen sputtered and went dark. The computer's tiny fan slowed, then whirled to a stop.
Jenna looked horrified. 'Mom! Why did you do that?'
Emily stayed quiet for a second, her mind trying to catch up with what she'd done. Finally she spoke and when she did so, the words were more a promise than a statement. 'It's over. He's over,' she said. She put her arms around her daughter, in the bedroom where she grew up. It was over. Nick Martin was gone from their lives.
And so was Dylan Walker.
Don't miss Gregg Olsen's next mesmerizing thriller .. .
Heart of Ice
Coming from Pinnacle in 2009!
Kappi Chi Fraternity, Chesterfield, Tennessee
He'd been watching her all night. She never paid him a single glance. Her sole focus seemed to be on herself. She'd made several trips with her carbon-copy sisters to the Kappa Chi upstairs bathroom, her purse slung over her shoulder like she was headed into battle. In a way, it was. The frat bathrooms were notoriously filthy. No TP. Just squat, do your business, and flush with a well-placed foot. If not too drunk, of course. When she and the pack returned to the party they were giddier than ever, lips lacquered, hair fluffed up to look messily styled.
Bet she loves the bed-head look, he thought. Bet she's not as hot as she wants everyone to believe. Bet she's cold as ice. Like the others.
Tiffany Jacobs brushed right by him as she made her way to the basement. She could feel the heat of a hundred bodies rise in the dank passage way. She caught the peculiar blend of odors vomit, beer, pot.
Guys are so gross, she thought.
The frat boys were playing boat races with some of the other drunken sorority girls down there. Upturned plastic drinking cups floated on a slimy beer surface on sheet of plywood procured for the game. Drink. Slide the cup. Push it to the edge. Drink. With each heat, a cheer erupted with the kind of enthusiasm that might have greeted the winner of the America's Cup.
But this was the big, blue, plastic beer cup.
The room was crowded and the walls were so hot, they practically wept condensation. Tiffany's rubber flip- flops stuck to the concrete floor from a coating of spilled beer that shined like shellac.
'I'm going to get some air,' she told her crew, all teetering woozily on a night of beers. One of her Beta Zeta sisters, an unfortunate girl with brown hair and teeth that had never seen the benefits of orthodontia, started to follow. She was one of the four Lindseys who had pledged that year. Tiffany knew she was a mistake, but they needed another girl to make their quota. Lindsey S. wasn't really ZBM Zeta Beta material-but she had a high grade point average.
'No, Lindsey S. I'll be back. I'm going to call my mom. You stay here'
Lindsey S., drunk and bored, complied and returned to the boat races.
Tiffany shimmied through the tightly woven human mass on her way to the door. Her mom had called earlier in evening-twice.
He was right behind her, just close enough to keep her in his sightline, but not enough to make her feel uncomfortable.
The cool night air blasted her face and sent a welcome chill down her body.
If Satan threw a party, he d have it at Kappa Chi, Tiffany Jacobs thought, as she walked up the concrete steps from the basement to the yard. Bits of broken glass shimmered.
She could hear the sound of a couple making out by a massive oak tree that sheltered much of the yard. She went the other direction, toward the pool, and reached for her cell phone and dialed the speed number for her mother.
'Hi honey,' her mom said. 'I wondered if you'd call me back tonight.'
'I'm sorry, Mom,' Tiffany said, sitting next to a leaffilled pool, 'I've been studying my butt off tonight.'
'That's why you're there, honey.'
'I know.' Tiffany rolled her eyes.
'I called earlier because I wanted to let you know I can come a day early for Moms Weekend'
'How early, Mom?' Tiffany was annoyed and had no problem letting her mother know. 'You know I have a lot of responsibilities.'
'I know you do, Tiff.'
