Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Ryan Hearst dragged Lana out of the trunk. She screamed and kicked at him, but he didn’t even seem to feel it. He carried her to the small building she’d seen. It was made of dark, weathered planks of wood.
They went inside. It had an empty front room that looked abandoned.
But a doorway led into another room at the back.
There, Ryan dumped Lana onto a cot. It was too dark to see much. She scrambled upright. She was going to run at him, fight. But before she could, he stepped out of the door and slammed it closed.
She heard a lock snapping into place on the other side. Damn it. She kicked the door in frustration.
“Let me out of here!”
No answer.
Lana walked around the tiny space, hands bound behind her back. She could still hear the waves crashing into shore outside.
She found a lantern hanging from a wall. With some effort, she used her mouth to flip the switch on the light. The room came into view.
Shabby, rough, dirty.
But the walls were covered in glossy pictures.
Pictures of her.
She saw the images of herself at the beach, wearing the string bikini, many of the same ones Wayfair had produced at the trial. Close-ups of her body, her face. There were photos of her and Max at the beach as well, but Max’s face was scribbled out.
Other pictures showed her walking into the judicial building. Into her townhouse. Walking down the street, driving her car, shopping at the grocery store.
Bile rose as she realized how much this monster had been watching her.
Not on his own, clearly, because she would’ve recognized Hearst at some point, and she’d have noticed if a man in sunglasses started tracking her everywhere.
No, he’d hired someone else to help him. A pro who wasn’t so easily spotted.
The police had been unofficially keeping an eye on Hearst’s movements. But Ryan had clearly been able to slip away from the off-duty cops’ surveillance the day he chased her and Aurora. That had been him, she was sure of it.
Why hadn’t she recognized his jawline? Why hadn’t she thought of him being the stalker before? Lana was furious at herself. She’d been so focused on Wayfair, when she should’ve remembered it was Wayfair’s client who was the sick murderer.
And he was a free man, now. No more bail. No more surveillance.
Ryan Hearst. The killer of Heather Barnes. The man so confident, so smug, that he’d displayed Heather’s necklace in his own bedroom until Max had found it.
Max would know Lana was missing by now. He’d been on his way to her house just before Ryan arrived. As soon as Max saw she was gone, he would realize the stalker had kidnapped her. The doorbell camera had probably caught it on video, too, how Hearst stuffed her into the trunk of Trevor’s car.
Poor Trevor. Tears filled her eyes. He’d been so terrified, and there’d been nothing she could do to save him.
She didn’t know what Hearst planned to do to her, but he clearly didn’t intend to leave any witnesses alive.
The room had a couple of small windows, but they’d been covered with plywood. She couldn’t find anything that would function as a weapon. There was a leather trunk, but it was locked and bolted to the floor. Even the cot was screwed into the wall, so it couldn’t be lifted.
Lana yanked at the ropes around her wrists. There was a tiny amount of give. She started twisting her hands to enlarge the gap.
Max, I need you. Please find me.
Lana heard a key in the lock. The door opened.
“I know you’re standing behind the door right now,” Ryan said. “Back out of there, or I’ll shoot you through the wall.”
Lana cursed silently. She’d been hoping to catch him by surprise.
She moved out into the room, careful to keep her back turned away from him.
The ropes were looser now. Her wrists were bleeding from the chafing, and the extra lubrication helped her move them even more.
But she still hadn’t made a large enough gap to slip her hand through.
Ryan waited in the doorway, holding the gun down by his side. “I’m sure your mind’s been busy while I was gone. I was getting rid of Trevor.”
“Someone’s going to find him. They’ll tie his death to you.”
“Maybe they’ll find him, but blame me? Nah. He’s in the water, and that’ll destroy most any evidence. There’s the bullet, but this gun isn’t registered to me.”
He walked into the room and sat on the leather trunk, resting the gun on his thigh. Ryan looked much the way he had every day of the trial. Hair parted neatly, clean-shaven, preppy good looks. He was wearing shorts and a tee instead of a suit.
“Don’t you want to sit down?” He nodded at the cot. “Get better acquainted?”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“Such a dirty mouth, Lana. Who knows where it’s been? Except Max Bennett. I’ll bet he knows.”
She didn’t respond. Just glared. And twisted her wrists against the rope.
Ryan’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know what this place is? This room?”
Lana refused to acknowledge the photos on the walls. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
He stood and walked toward her. “This is where I brought Heather. All those years ago. Nobody could hear her scream, and they won’t hear you.”
Lana gagged. Stomach acid filled her mouth. “You like to hurt people who are weaker than you so you can pretend to feel strong. You’re pathetic.”
Ryan pulled back his arm and slapped her.
The blow stunned her. She’d never been hit before, not by anyone. Stars danced across her watering eyes, and blood trickled from her mouth. But the pain was like a hit of speed, making her intensely alert.
“What do you want?” she choked out.
“Payback. But shouldn’t I have some fun while I’m at it?”
He retreated, sitting back down on the leather trunk. Her lungs started to work again, relieved that he wasn’t close enough to touch her. Even though she knew he was just pacing himself. Enjoying this.
“Payback against me? For prosecuting your case? Or against Max, for outsmarting you?”
“He had no business getting involved. I don’t see why anyone still cared about that little whore dying. Heather was worthless, no use to anybody but me. You at least have some value, even though you’re just as much of a slut.”
“What value is that?”
The longer they kept talking, the more time Lana had to invent a way out of this. Or for Max to find her. She had to believe he was coming.
And if she could just slip her hand free…
“Showing Max that I win. I’ll always win. He invaded my home, made me look like an idiot. For a while, at least. But when he finds out what I did to you, and knows it was all because of him, he’ll wish he’d never even heard my name.”
Ryan stood again, looking down at the gun on his open palm.
“I thought about going after Max’s sister at first, but as you got more involved in my case, I realized you could use a lesson of your own.
And I figured the two of you were screwing, from all the time you spent together.
Why else would Max have helped you with the investigation in the first place? ”
“Because he’s a good person?”
“Yeah, whatever. Either way, I just knew it was perfect. I could punish you and Bennett in one go. Scare you with my phone calls, rile you up. Have my fun. Like chasing you and his sister that day in the car. I almost never got moments away from home without any cops tailing me, which is too bad, because I’d love to have made you more personal visits.
But at least I could pass on anything useful for the case to Wayfair. ”
“Like those pictures from the beach.”
He laughed. “Yeah, that was a stroke of brilliance on my friend’s part.
He was the one who followed you, saw the opportunity.
Then I teed up the ball and Wayfair hit it out of the park, even if he didn’t really know all I’d done to make it happen.
Wayfair got Max to lose his mind, right there on the stand.
Which only proved how satisfying it would be to take you away from him permanently. ”
“But you’ve already won. Your charges were dismissed. Why come after me now? You’re just exposing yourself to a greater risk of getting caught again.”
“You think you ever had a chance of convicting me? There was always going to be a mistrial. Of course, we had to make it look good. We can thank Max for playing his part so well.”
“What do you mean, there was always going to be a mistrial? How…”
“Come on, Lana. You’re smarter than that. Don’t tell me you haven’t guessed.”
Indignation roiled in her stomach. “Judge Vaughn. Did you threaten her? Or buy her off?”
“Do I have to pick just one?” He stood up, leaving the gun on the windowsill behind him. Ryan advanced toward her, a slow step at a time.
“You and I were always going to end up here after the trial was over. I’ve been looking forward to this from those first phone calls. And when Wayfair told me this afternoon about your little visit to his office? I knew it needed to be today.”
Ryan dipped his fingers into his pocket. He pulled out a long, silky piece of lightweight material. Her scarf, the one that had been stolen from the beach. The end of it was frayed, a piece ripped away.
“I wasn’t at the beach that day myself, which is really too bad. I would’ve loved to see you in that bikini, simply as a connoisseur of beautiful things. But honestly? Scantily clad women don’t do it for me. I have more demanding tastes.”
Lana pressed herself against the wall. There was nowhere to go. A vein in her neck throbbed, but the rest of her body was paralyzed with fear.
He wrapped the ends of the fabric in each fist, holding it out, as his grin spread wide.
“Let’s put your scarf back on you, Lana, and see how pretty you look. Let’s put it on nice and tight.”