Paddy's doubt made it possible for Colin to breathe again. He gave a skeptical-sounding laugh. "Relax. I haven't hurt anybody," he said. But then Samantha started kicking and screaming upstairs and, even with the added insulation, Colin could hear her calling, "Help! Help me! Please! They've chained me to the floor. Call my mom! Please help me."
Colin's father's ashen complexion made it obvious he'd heard her, too.
"Good God," he whispered and broke away, headed for the stairs.
Paddy thought he could save her. He thought Colin would just stand there and let him pass.
"Not so fast," he said and shoved his father so hard he fell, striking his head on the corner of the wall. A gash on his forehead oozed blood and left him dazed. He blinked up at Colin as if he couldn't quite focus, but the sight of him lying there didn't bother Colin in the least. He felt only relief. "You never should've married Mom, you know that? She was a mean bitch, even if she was a helluva lot smarter than you. And you shouldn't have come over here alone," he added. Then he smashed his head with the base of a lamp.
When he was sure his father was dead, Colin leaned back on his knees, winded but wildly exhilarated. Killing an adult wasn't much different from killing a kid. "You're not so big and tough these days, are you, Dad?"
he said, then he grimaced at the dent he'd created in the brass lamp. "Now look what you made me do. That lamp was expensive."
Dropping the makeshift weapon onto the carpet, he listened for Sam.
He hated her at that moment, hated her more than anyone in the world. He'd kill her in the most painful manner of all, he promised himself. But the house was quiet. As far as he could tell, Zoe hadn't responded to her daughter's calls, which probably meant she was still in a stupor. And Sam had either given up or given out. Either way, he could take care of them later. He had to deal with Paddy first.
Breathe deeply. He shut his eyes in an attempt to overcome the adrenaline rush causing his hands to shake. Everything was okay. He'd had a close call, that was all. But he'd saved the day. All he had to do was dispose of his father's body and he'd be fine.
But how?
Standing, he paced back and forth across the carpet. He'd drag his father into the garage, out of sight, and clean up the blood. As soon as Tiffany returned, he'd have her drive Paddy's car to the pool hall the old man visited almost every weekend. Then, later, when the neighbors were asleep, he'd drive his own car into the garage, put his father's body in the trunk and take it into the mountains to bury. Tomorrow, Paddy Bell would be just another missing person.
He pivoted and made another pass. Would that work? It should. Paddy hadn't told Sheryl what he suspected; Colin was sure of it. He wasn't the type to share information like that until he was absolutely certain. But if his stepmother knew Paddy was coming over here, Colin could face some questions.
It wouldn't matter. She'd never seriously believe he'd hurt his father. It was her son she'd blame. A notorious hothead, Glen Hagen had busted up the business partnership he and Paddy had going when he walked out of the lawn-mower shop they owned together.
Yes, Glen would get the blame. If Sheryl or anyone else placed Paddy in the neighborhood, Colin would simply say he stopped by on his way to see Glen about patching up the rift between them. She knew Paddy wanted to make peace with Glen. These days, Paddy didn't like being at odds with anyone.
All Colin had to do was pull himself together, be more careful--be smart.
But no sooner had he dragged the corpse into the garage and started to clean up the blood than someone knocked on the door.
As he stood on Colin Bell's stoop, waiting for a response, Jonathan checked his phone again. Nothing. While emergency crews cleared away the three-car pileup that'd kept him sitting in traffic for twenty minutes, he'd sent three texts to Zoe--but she hadn't returned a single one, and she wasn't answering when he tried to call.
What was going on? It didn't make sense that she wouldn't keep her phone handy, just in case he had news.
When Colin finally answered Jonathan's knock, he opened the door a crack. Jonathan could tell he didn't really want to be bothered. But his smile was as friendly as ever. "Sorry for the wait," he said. "I was in the garage."
Colin nodded. "No problem. I'm looking for Zoe. Have you seen her?"
"She was here for dinner."
"How long ago did she leave?"
His eyebrows knotted as if he was thinking hard to come up with the correct time. "'Bout an hour ago."
"Did she say where she was going?"
A drop of sweat trickled down from his temple. Jonathan would've thought he'd been working out, but he was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and he wasn't wearing shoes. Had he just finished exercising, stripped off his clothes to hop in the shower and put them back on at the sound of the doorbell? If so, it was no wonder he didn't want to be interrupted....
"She mentioned she was tired," he said. "But maybe Anton saw her heading to her car and waylaid her. They broke up, you know."
Jonathan peered at Lucassi's empty driveway. "Her car's not there."
"Maybe they left together."
That possibility didn't make Jonathan feel much better. Perhaps he was wrong about her. Perhaps she'd go back to Anton, regardless of all her talk about a "loveless relationship." Maria had returned to Dan, hadn't she?
And he was the man who'd broken her nose and her arm--and eventually killed her.
"I guess they could have," Jonathan said. "Thanks." But he managed to contact Lucassi on his cell phone only five minutes later, and Lucassi swore up and down that he hadn't seen Zoe since she'd left his house last night.
Chapter 24
Tiffany's knees buckled when she saw her father-in-law's body.
Covering her mouth in horror, she slid down the inside wall of the garage, staring at the pool of blood fanning out from his head. "He's dead," she said through her fingers. That was obvious. The minute she walked into the house and caught him cleaning up, Colin had said as much, and this was proof. But seeing wasn't necessarily believing. Since they'd married, Colin had been somewhat ambivalent about his father. Sometimes he blamed him for not stopping the abuse he suffered at the hands of his mother. Other times he seemed to forgive and forget. But Tiffany had always had a soft spot for Paddy, who, unlike Colin's mother, had been kind to her from the beginning. If he knew they were coming over, he kept her favorite cookies on hand. "The ones with the M&M's," she thought distantly.
"Get up!" Colin growled. "I need your help." She didn't move, so he gave her a little kick. "Come on. What the hell's wrong with you?"