Page 19

CHAPTER 19

LARK

Oh, crap.

This is bad.

So very bad.

I thought it was over. I thought I was safe.

But Ed? Fifty-something Ed who’s worked here for years? Whose most notable personality trait is his avid love of golf?

He had my dad over for Thanksgiving. They watched football together.

It doesn’t make sense.

It’s Alec, though. One of the smartest guys I’ve ever met. He wouldn’t bring up Ed if there wasn’t good reason. Knox wouldn’t be on his way here right now, texting me over and over, telling me to lock myself in my office…

My mind feels like it’s splitting in two. Half is steadfastly denying what Knox just told me. Resolutely insisting it can’t be true. That there has to be a mistake .

The other half, though?—

In my gut, I believe Knox and his team. Which means I need to get Ed out of here right now .

“Lark?” Ed clears his throat as his face screws up in irritation. He glances at my phone and asks, “Is there something more important than your father’s health?”

Crap. I’m going to blow this before I’ve even said a word.

I start to speak, but only a strangled croak comes out.

A look of concern—fake concern, now that I’m looking for it—moves across Ed’s face. “Are you alright? I know this is upsetting.”

“I’m fine,” I manage. Then I reach for my water bottle and take a sip, taking a few seconds to stall while I try to come up with a convincing reason to make Ed leave without arousing suspicion. “It’s just… unexpected.”

“Of course.” His expression turns sympathetic. “I know this isn’t the best time to get into it. So I was hoping we could meet outside work. Preferably someplace where we won’t run into any other employees.”

“Yes.” My heart is racing triple speed, and my stupid, traitorous cheeks are getting hot. “Great idea. Definitely.”

Great. And now my voice is getting all high and wobbly. What is wrong with me?

My phone chimes, and I steal a quick glance at the screen. It’s Knox, telling me he’s thirty minutes from Montpelier, which feels like eons too long.

As Ed stares at me, I blurt, “I’m not really feeling well, Ed. I’m not sure… I felt fine before, but maybe this news…”

“Sure.” He takes a step backwards, and I almost burst into relieved tears. “But I think it should be sooner than later, Lark. This could have serious repercussions for the company. And your dad. If he needs—” His gaze narrows on my hand, and I realize belatedly that the water bottle is shaking.

No. My hand is shaking. And it’s becoming increasingly hard to breathe.

“Lark.” Shadows cloud his face. “Are you shaking?”

Crap. Forget pretending everything is fine. If he won’t leave, I will.

Rising from my chair, I say, “I really don’t feel well, Ed. I’m going home. Can you just… email me? And we can?—”

Are my knees shaking?

My face is on fire.

Get it together. Calm down.

“After Christmas,” I force out. “We can meet after Christmas. Or the New Year.”

For a second, I think Ed’s going to agree. He’ll agree and he’ll turn around and leave. Then I can lock my office door and try not to fall apart until Knox gets here.

Then.

Faster than I thought possible, Ed closes the distance between us and leans over my desk. He snatches up my phone and reads the text still displayed on the screen.

I know exactly what it says, because I just read it.

Thirty minutes away. Lock your door. Please. Enzo called the police.

Ed looks back up at me, and his whole demeanor changes. Gone is blandly pleasant Ed. In his place is someone suspicious. Angry.

“Why do you need to lock your door, Lark ?”

“No reason.” Sidling out from behind my desk, I start moving toward the door. “Just?—”

Think. For someone who’s supposed to be smart, I’m a terrible liar.

“Why are the police involved?” His voice goes hard. “Who’s on their way here? Your bodyguard boyfriend?”

“I don’t know. But yes, Knox is coming. He’ll be here soon.”

“Oh, Lark.” He grabs my arm in a punishing grip, fingers digging into my skin. Malice darkens his eyes. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way.”

“Stop it!” My voice rises as I pull fruitlessly at his surprisingly strong hold. “Let me go. Now .”

“Keep your voice down,” he hisses. “Or you’ll really regret it.”

But I won’t. I’ll yell. What is he going to do to me in here? Hit me? I can take it. And I’ve learned some self-defense skills, I can?—

No.

Ed pulls a small gun from inside his suit pocket and points it at me.

My lungs seize.

No .

No. This isn’t possible. This has to be some kind of flashback.

Ed can’t be standing in my office, pointing a gun at me.

“If you make a fucking sound,” he snarls, “I’ll shoot you right here. ”

Acting on pure fight-or-flight instinct, my body tries to flee. I’m moving toward the door without even thinking.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ed yanks my arm, jerking me back toward him. Then he jams the barrel of the gun against my chest. He leans close enough for me to see the little spot of stubble he missed shaving and to smell cinnamon on his breath. His eyes spark fire as he hisses, “I’ll shoot you, Lark. Don’t think I won’t. And then I’ll make it look like you killed yourself. Like the trauma of your recent attacks caught up with you.”

I freeze. My heart feels like it’s about to burst from my chest.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Lark. We’re going to leave. Together. And if you try anything, try to warn anyone, I’ll kill them.”

“How? Just in the hallway, you’ll start shooting? And you think you won’t go to jail?”

“No.” A sly smile lifts his lips. “I’ll tell them you’re having a breakdown. That I need help getting you someplace quiet. And then…” His teeth bare in a rictus of a grin. “Once we get someplace quiet, then I’ll shoot them. And make it look like you did it.”

Oh.

This fear .

It’s almost incapacitating.

“Don’t think your dad is safe, either. I can call him for help. Get him in an office. And then…” The gun presses hard between my breasts. “I think you know what comes next.”

Can this really be happening?

“Let’s go.” Ed pushes me in front of him and pushes the barrel against the small of my back. “Before your stupid boyfriend gets here and ruins everything.” He pauses. “Here’s how it’s going to work. We’re going to take the back stairwell. If anyone asks, you’re under the weather and I’m just walking you out. And if you say anything?—”

“Yes,” I snap. My temper flares. “You’ll shoot them. I know.”

Ed smacks the back of my head, hard enough to make my ears ring. “Remember who has the fucking gun, here. So shut your damn mouth.”

As we leave my office, terror sweeps through me. The hallway is empty, which isn’t surprising considering at this hour, most people are on calls or busy catching up on emails. There’s no one to notice something off, not that I could say anything if they did. There’s not even anyone to see me leaving.

How long has it been since Knox’s last text? Five minutes? Ten? What is he going to think when he gets to my office to find me gone and my phone left behind on my desk?

He’s going to be so worried .

“Faster,” Ed mutters in my ear. “Move it.”

Wait.

How could I have forgotten?

The necklace. With the tracker. And the alert. Knox might not be tracking me now, thinking I’m still safely at the office. But if he sees my alert go off, he’ll know I’m in trouble. He can change course, follow me to wherever Ed’s planning to go. Hopefully before…

No. I can’t think about that.

Just trigger the necklace .

As we enter the stairwell, Ed glances back to make sure the door is shut. In the moment his attention is split, I quickly reach for the necklace and press it hard, hoping with all my heart that I actually triggered it. That I pressed the little button hard enough. That it really works.

“Move. Faster.” The stupid gun jabs into my back again, hard enough to bruise.

“I’m moving as fast as I can. Do you want me to—” My mouth clamps shut. It’s probably best not to give him ideas. I grip the bannister as we hurry down the stairs, now terrified Ed will bypass shooting me and just push me down them.

When we get out to the back parking lot, it’s a jarring incongruity. The sun is out, turning the snowbanks into fluffy piles of glittering diamonds. The air is crisp and clean, a contradiction to the suffocating fear filling my chest.

Ed shoves me ahead of him and says, “Get in your car. You’re driving.”

What?

Why?

“I don’t understand?—”

“Shut up. Just do it.”

None of this makes sense. The gun. The very evident fact that Ed was involved in trying to kill me. May still be planning to kill me.

When we get to my car, Ed pulls my key fob from his pocket and unlocks the doors. The move is so similar to what Knox thoughtfully did for me only hours ago, tears spring to my eyes.

I want Knox .

I want him so badly it’s a physical pain.

Ed shoves me in through the passenger side and slides in beside me. The gun settles against my ribs, and I hear that horrible sound I’ve become all too familiar with.

The click.

The trigger cocking.

Panic surges. My lungs won’t seem to work. Gray spots dance across my vision.

“Drive. Turn right on Main Street.”

Driving is easier said than done when I feel seconds from a heart attack and my hands are trembling. But I somehow manage to pull out of the parking lot and make a right turn.

“Keep going. I’ll tell you when to turn.”

I have a fleeting thought of trying something like I’ve seen in some of the movies Knox likes. The action movies where the people are doing crazy things like driving off a bridge or driving the wrong way in rush-hour traffic.

Except neither of those ideas sound the slightest bit helpful. But maybe… I could run into something. A lamp post. A sign. Something not deadly.

“Don’t get any fucking ideas of causing an accident or getting pulled over.” His voice is hard. Flat. Dangerous. “It won’t end well for you.” A beat later, he adds, “Unless you want to be responsible for other people dying, that is. Then, go ahead, try some idiotic thing you saw in a movie.”

Crap.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask, now switching tactics. Maybe I can talk him down. Reason with him. “ You’re going to get caught. It’s not too late to change your mind. I could help you?—”

“I don’t need your damn help! You’ve helped enough already!”

I yelp in fear and the car jerks to the side.

Ed smacks my head again. “Drive straight!”

“This doesn’t make sense. Someone will look for me. They’re going to see me leaving on the security cameras with you. They’ll want to know where I went. Why I was with you.”

“No, they won’t.” He chuckles darkly. “I bypassed the security cameras. Looped in old footage from a month ago. It’s not that hard, really, if you have any sort of computer skills.”

Then he smiles, and it’s the most frightening thing I’ve ever seen. “How do you think that incompetent fool Vinnetti got into your house, Lark? He didn’t do it. He was too stupid for that. Too incompetent to take out a woman who lives by herself. I hacked your security system.”

My voice strangled, I whisper, “Why? I don’t understand. You… why?”

“Because it should have been my job!” Voice rising, he glares at me. “I should have gotten the damn promotion. I should be Mitch’s right-hand man. I’m the one who should be CFO. And when he retires, I should take over as president. I’ve worked at the damn company for almost twenty years. I deserve it. Not you.”

His face is red with anger, and he pauses to take a breath. “Keep going. We’re not there yet.”

Oh, God.

“So you wanted to kill me? ”

“No shit.” Ed shoves the gun into my ribs. “It was supposed to be so simple. Hire that dumbass Vinnetti and have you taken out. A B and E gone wrong, so tragic. And then I’d be there to support your father. Take over for him if he needed time off. He’d rely on me. I’d be the obvious choice to move up in the company.”

“But… you have a good job.”

“Not as good as it should be,” he snaps. “Miss Perfect Lark, with her big office and her six-figure salary and stock options. And the path all set out for you to be president. It’s not fair. And I had the perfect solution until that dumbass fucked it up.”

My eyes dart to the clock on the dashboard, noting it’s been almost fifteen minutes since Knox’s last text. So he’s getting close. He has to know I’m in trouble. He’ll come for me. I just need to stall Ed from shooting me—or whatever else he has planned—until then.

“But the police,” I say quietly, “never found an accomplice. How?—”

Ed laughs, hard and mirthless. “So easy. I guess it doesn’t matter if you know. Since I’ll be killing you soon.”

My body goes hot and cold all over. A wave of dizziness makes my head spin.

“I framed the dumbass after I killed him.”

What?

“You… what? But I?—”

“Nope.” He grins at me. “He called me after you shot him, panicking. He wanted to go to the hospital, didn’t care about getting in trouble. So I told him to wait for me, that I’d take him to a private doctor I knew. But instead, you know what I did?”

I’m pretty sure I know, but since it seems like Ed’s waiting for me to respond, I ask, “What?”

“I smothered him. Used a pillow I brought with me. He was weak, so it took almost no effort. Then I dumped him further in the woods so it would look like he wandered off to die. Pretty smart, huh? But oh no, your father doesn’t see it. All he sees is his precious daughter?—”

He stops abruptly. The gun digs between my ribs. “Pull off the road. There. Into that driveway.”

The driveway in question is a long, winding path that looks like it hasn’t been plowed since the last snowstorm. At least six inches of untouched snow cover it, crunching as I obligingly make the turn.

Icy tendrils of dread and fear run down my back.

Driving is one thing. It’s unlikely Ed will shoot me considering it would put him at risk. But a driveway means stopping. And stopping means…

Panic takes over, and I babble, “Ed. Please. Don’t do this. I’ll quit my job. You can have it. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Pull over.”

“No. Please. I?—”

He points the gun at my head. “Pull over!”

Oh. God, no. I don’t want to die.

I want Knox. Oh, I want him here. I don’t know what to do. None of my self-defense skills involve fighting someone who has a gun to my head.

Shaking all over, I slow the car to a stop. Ed reaches over to the gearshift and throws it in park .

“Please, Ed.” I’m crying now. Staying calm is an impossibility. “I never did anything to you. My dad likes you. Please. Don’t kill me.”

“Oh, Lark.” He smiles. “I’m not going to kill you yet. Since this all was a bit… unexpected, I had to make some rushed decisions. We have a way to go yet before I actually kill you.”

Could I jump out of the car now that it’s stopped? Try to do that throat punch I’ve heard the guys talking about?

“But this is where I’m taking over. Because honestly, Lark, I’m sick of hearing you talk. I’m sick of looking at you, really.”

“What—”

And then.

A flash of metal.

Something slams into my head.

Hard. Agonizing.

Searing pain.

My vision blurs.

Everything spins.

As I slump down in the seat, I hear him say faintly, “I think I’ll much prefer you in the trunk. Fitting for garbage like you.”

Darkness edges in.

And the sorrow.

Knox.

I just want to see him again.