Cold Deception (His Agenda 4): Prequel to the His Agenda Series Page 15

  Lacey’s bloodshot eyes were fixed on him, questioning, judging.

  “What’s going on?” Her lips moved, but the words were so low he had to strain to hear them.

  He tossed her the robe. “Get up. We have work to do.”

  She did not object, perhaps because she was too weak to do so, or because she understood now that he was in control.

  He helped her to her feet, which took a while because she kept folding over, and got her into the robe. He handed her the bucket and pulled several plastic bags from his pocket, shaking them out.

  “What do you want me to do?” she asked, staring into the water. Her fingers gripped the bucket handle so tight, her knuckles lost color.

  “I want you to clean up.” Terence moved to the fridge and looked inside. He pushed down the disgust brought on by the sight of the person who used to be his mother. He opened the bag he had brought down with him and pulled out an electric saw—the same one he had used to decapitate Krista. He switched it on and got to work. No time to be queasy.

  From the corner of his eye, he watched as Lacey lowered the bucket to the floor and ran to a corner. He listened to her retching and sobbing at the same time. She clearly had no idea what he was capable of. He would never let her betray him again, and if she did, she would end up like his mother and Krista.

  Blood splattered everywhere, hitting Terence’s face and clothing. The smell of blood, feces, urine, and vomit was unbearable, but the job had to be done.

  Once the corpse had been cut up into smaller pieces, he ordered Lacey to help him stuff them into the plastic bags. She resisted at first, but the warning look he shot her was enough to get her to obey. She threw up again and then she did as she was told.

  “Clean up this mess,” he ordered, when all the body parts were inside the bags. He left the basement to transport the remains to a place where they would not be found.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Lacey

  The water was not enough to clean the entire mess, but Lacey did her best, gagging and throwing up until her stomach was completely empty. She hardened her heart so she wouldn’t feel anything, so she wouldn’t pass out. Her head was already spinning. In spite of the disgust roiling inside her, she had to do what Terence demanded. Who knew what he would do to her if he returned and found the basement still stained with blood? She was stuck inside a horror movie that refused to end.

  She finished up and wiped her hands on the robe. She carried the bucket to the bottom of the stairs. As she did so, something caught her eye. Her heart leapt and adrenaline surged through her. Terence had been in such a rush that he had forgotten the saw. It was halfway under the first step. This was it—her first chance to save herself.

  She lifted the bloody saw from the floor and stared down at it. Fresh tears dripped onto the blade, washing away some of the blood.

  Her heart thumped as she reached into the bucket and removed the sponge, which she used to clean the blade. She climbed up the steps, then positioned herself strategically on one side of the door, ready to kill Terence before he killed her.

  When she heard the thumps of his heavy footsteps two hours later, she raised the saw. The door flew open, and she attacked.

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  The force of Lacey’s attack sent the saw flying out of her hands, and she grabbed the railing. The machine crashed at her feet, followed by a cane. Terence had not walked through the doorway. He had pushed the cane through the opening so it would take the hit. He must have known what she was up to.

  Just as she caught herself from falling down the stairs, Terence charged through the door, and his hands were around her neck. As air whooshed out of her lungs, her eyes met his. She saw the fury erupting in waves. He moved his face close to hers.

  “You think I’m stupid, don’t you?” His Adam’s apple rose and fell as he swallowed. “Did you think I wouldn’t know what you had planned?” He squeezed her neck tighter and twisted it so she was facing the door. He tipped her face upward so her gaze was directed to the top of the doorframe.

  “See that? That’s a camera. I installed it before I locked you up. That’s right, sweetheart, I was in here with you the whole time. When you thought you were alone, you actually weren’t. I’ve enjoyed watching your suffering. I never thought I’d watch you scheming to kill me.” He pressed his face to hers. “I’m your husband. Wasn’t fucking another man enough? What a fool I was to think I could change you back to the woman I married. Shit, I was even considering letting you live.”

  Lacey clutched at his hands, pulling and scratching as she gasped for air. She clawed her fingers under his, scratching at her own skin. Instead of releasing his hold on her, he slammed her against the wall next to the door and lifted her off the floor so her legs dangled in thin air. Her head pulsed as pain knifed through it. She kicked him, but it didn’t deter him.

  He lowered her back to the floor, but her knees were so weak that her legs crumpled beneath her. Before she could find her footing, he let out an angry grunt and shoved her down the stairs. Her back and head took the first hit. Something inside her head cracked. Was it her skull? The fall wasn’t over. She bounced down each individual step like a ragdoll. The pain of impact was excruciating and followed her all the way down, until her head slammed hard against the floor at the bottom. Fighting the pain, she turned her face in time to see Terence running down the steps. He was holding the knife he had held at her throat when he kidnapped her from Florene’s apartment. This time, he pointed the tip at the place where her heart was.

  “You broke my heart, now I’m going to finish yours.”

  She looked up at his face but didn’t see him there. The man pinning her to the floor with a knife was a completely different man—an evil version of Terence. Even if she tried, she would not be able to reach him.

  She parted her lips and croaked, “You better kill me. If you don’t, I’ll find a way to leave again. I’ll… I’ll tell everyone what you did. I’ll have you thrown back into prison for the rest of your life. That’s where you belong.”

  Terence swept the robe from her body and pressed the tip of the knife into her naked skin. She reacted to the sudden pain with a scream.

  “In that case, there’s no going back. You have to die.” He pulled out the tip and raised it.

  For a moment she thought he wouldn’t do it, that the man she used to love would force his way out of this evil monster.

  But the blade sliced into her breast. She gasped from both shock and pain. He pulled it out again and stabbed her again, and again. Her eyes started to dim when the blade met her body for the fourth time.

  Before her eyes drifted shut, she saw the faces of the people who had come and gone from her life—her parents, her sister. She saw Terence, the way he used to be, and Winston, the man she would never see again. She saw the faces of the people who had given her chances and those who had snatched them away. She saw her life as a whole and her life in pieces. She watched her forever splinter and then explode in her face. Death rushed fast toward her. A few seconds before she left the world, a sudden calm fell over her, something she had never felt before. The pain and the worries ceased to exist.

  There was only one decision left to make. She could close her eyes or keep them open a little longer. She lowered her lids and went to sleep.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Terence

  “What the fuck, Terence.” Marion burst into the house, his face puce with anger. “Don’t you ever answer your phone? I’ve been trying to reach you for days. What’s wrong with you?”

  Terence was lying on the couch, his hands clasped behind his head, gazing up at the ceiling, studying a stain that had been in the same corner since he was a child. He was in his own world and didn’t even bother to look at Marion as he spoke. “How did you get in?”

  “I have a spare key, remember? This used to be my house too.”

  “Yeah, go ahead and rub it in, remind me that I don’t have a place of my own.�
�

  Marion threw a bunch of letters onto the coffee table and sat down in the only armchair in the room. “What’s going on with you? Have you put your life on hold? You don’t answer your calls, and it looks like you don’t even open your mail. Your mailbox was flooded.” He waved a hand at the letters. “There’s even a legal-looking envelope there.”

  “Sometimes a man needs some time off.” Terence’s gaze was still directed at the ceiling, but a grin split his face.

  Marion rose and stood over him, his eyebrows knitted. “Have you been drinking? I hope you haven’t been up to anything stupid.”

  Terence pulled his gaze from the ceiling and shot a warning look at Marion. “Is that all I’m good for, drinking and doing stupid things?”

  “Don’t put words in my mouth. That’s not what I said. You’re my brother, I’m looking out for you. Where’s Lacey? Have you sorted out your issues?”

  Terence pulled himself up to a sitting position, but was unable to hold himself upright properly. He swayed from side to side. “We sorted out our issues. The bitch is dead.”

  “How can you say something like that? Are you out of your mind? Where is she?”

  “My mind has never been in a better place. If you want to see her so much, check the basement. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you… wherever she is.”

  Marion charged out of the living room. Terence stayed where he was. Marion would be able to find Lacey easily. Her corpse was right there at the bottom of the stairs where she had taken her last breath.

  A few seconds later, Marion came back upstairs. The color had drained out of his face and his jaw was tight. “What did you do?” He grabbed Terence by the t-shirt and dragged him to his unsteady feet.

  “I did what had to be done.” Terence spoke with a slight slur. “The bitch cheated on me. She deserved what she got.” He shrugged Marion off.

  Marion raked both his hands through his hair and paced the room. “I can’t believe you did this. Are you stupid? Do you want to go back to prison? How could you kill your wife? How could you kill anyone?”

  If he only knew what Terence had done to their mother. But Terence decided that was one secret he would keep to himself. “You want to call the cops on me, is that it?” Terence sank down on the couch again and flipped onto his back so he was in the same position Marion had found him in.

  “Are you out of your fucking mind? Your wife is dead, and you’re lying there pretending it’s not a big deal?”

  “It is a big deal,” Terence said. “You have no idea how big a deal it is. I’m just not grieving because I’m happy she’s dead. Want to call the cops? Go ahead. I did what I had to do.”

  Marion fell into the chair he had occupied earlier. He buried his head in his hands and swore under his breath. “Shit, I can’t fuckin’ believe this.” He rose out of the chair again. This time, instead of reprimanding Terence, he got to work removing the coffee table from the living room carpet, folding up the carpet, and throwing it over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing. He stepped to the door of the living room and turned to Terence. “Pull yourself together. Stay here and don’t mess up more than you already have.”

  Terence laughed, but he did as he was told. He returned to studying the stain on the ceiling. He had wanted to get rid of Lacey’s corpse two days ago when she died, but sitting on the basement steps with a bottle of booze, watching her corpse, relishing the idea that he never again had to worry about another man’s dick inside her pussy, had brought him so much satisfaction.

  ***

  Marion reappeared in the living room ten minutes later. He was breathing hard, carrying Lacey’s body wrapped inside the carpet over his shoulder. He walked right past Terence and left the house fast, as if someone were after him. At 10 p.m. in the secluded neighborhood, he would probably be able to make it to his car and throw the body in the trunk without being seen. Terence wanted to help, but he’d been ordered to stay put while his squeaky-clean brother got his hands dirty. He didn’t give a damn where Marion was taking the body. The most important thing was that Lacey was gone, and Terence was starting to feel more alive than he had in years. Her death had brought him more pleasure than the deaths of his mother and Krista Smith combined.

  After waiting an hour for Marion to return, Terence got bored and reached for the mail Marion had left on the coffee table. Bills, bills, bills. Then he saw the envelope Marion had mentioned, the one that looked as though it contained a legal document. The word “Urgent” was scrolled across the front. Terence picked up a bottle of gin from the floor and took a long swig. He turned the envelope in his hand. “Striker & Baron Law Firm” was stamped on the back. He stared at the envelope for a while, until his curiosity got the best of him. He expected a typed-up document of some sort, but when he opened the envelope he found a lined sheet of paper. The handwriting was hard to read, but he figured out the words:

  Mr. Pirone,

  I’ve been trying to reach you by phone for a while but can’t seem to get through. I also dropped by your house, but no one was home. I have an important matter to discuss with you. Please give me a call as soon as possible.

  Earnest Striker

  Terence ran a hand through his greasy hair and took another drink. He reached for his cell phone and switched it on. At least ten of the messages were from Marion. He deleted them without listening to them, and then he listened to the two from the lawyer. Striker repeated exactly what he had written in the note—he wanted to speak to Terence urgently concerning an important matter.

  Terence was convinced that the man who had been sniffing around his house was the Striker guy. What the hell did he want from him? He’d give the guy a call first thing in the morning to find out. He switched off his phone again and stood. He hadn’t had a shower in three days, and he craved one. He took his gin bottle with him to the bathroom but instead of drinking from it, he spilled its contents down the drain. He had no use for booze anymore. He was in control of his life again. He had taken life in order to breathe new life into himself.

  After the invigorating shower, he went to look for something to eat. He pulled week-old leftover Chinese takeaway from the fridge and settled on the couch to eat it cold.

  Marion showed up two hours later. He found Terence back on the couch, watching television. Marion picked up the remote and switched the TV off.

  “It’s done. This is the last time I will be cleaning up your mess.”

  “I didn’t ask you to.” Terence folded his arms. “I was planning to get rid of the body myself. But you had to butt into my business, didn’t you?” He stood.

  The punch that came flying at Terence’s nose took him by surprise.

  “You ungrateful bastard. If I hadn’t helped you, you would have gotten your ass arrested. In the state you were in, you would have made mistakes. You better stop thinking you’re above the law. One wrong move and you’ll be locked up for life this time.” Marion took a step back. “You need to get out of this place for a while. Come stay with me. Someone might come here looking for Lacey.”

  “It’s all sorted. No one will come for her.” Terence touched his bleeding nose, enjoying the pain, the feeling of being alive. “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m not as stupid as you think.”

  Marion shook his head. “Sometimes I regret being your brother, you know that?”

  “Tough luck. We can’t choose our families.”

  “Damn right we can’t. Right now I wish I could.” He paused. “Get your shit together. We’re leaving.”

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  The next morning, after a strong coffee, Terence gave Earnest Striker a call. Marion had left to do more cleaning up at the old house. He had given Terence strict instructions not to leave his place. Terence didn’t fight him. He had been too distracted by this business with Striker to care about Marion’s bossiness.

  Terence thumbed Striker’s number into Marion’s house phone and asked the receptionist to connect him. Striker was on the phone in seco
nds.

  “Mr. Pirone, I’m so glad you called. You’re an impossible man to get a hold of.” There was a slight impatience to his voice.

  “I was out of town for a few days. So, what’s this about?”

  “Mrs. Deloris Holt. She passed away two weeks ago. I’m sure you read about it in the papers. I’m the attorney handling her estate.”

  Terence was still for a moment. It saddened him a little to hear of Deloris’s passing. He had liked her, and Terence didn’t like many people. She’d had such a fire in her eyes, it was hard for him to believe she had died so soon.

  “I’m sorry to hear of her passing, but what does it have to do with me?” Terence pinched the bridge of his nose, wishing his damn hangover would piss off already.

  “You are one of the beneficiaries of her will, Mr. Pirone.”

  “No way.” Terence stood up from his chair so fast it crashed to the floor. “I don’t understand.”

  “It is true, Mr. Pirone. Mrs. Holt left you an inheritance, and I need to discuss it with you.”

  “But I didn’t know her… not really.” Terence ran a hand through his hair. “How is this possible?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t answer that question. My job is only to inform the beneficiaries of their inheritances.”

  Terence’s face lit up. “I understand. I’m ready to talk when you are. Can we do it over the phone?”

  “I’m afraid not. She left a letter for you. Maybe it will answer any questions you might have. I can come to your house tomorrow morning at ten?”

  “No, no,” Terence said quickly. “I’ll come to your office.”

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Earnest Striker was a gaunt, tired man with thinning hair and bags under his eyes. He looked as though he hadn’t slept for days. Terence observed the man’s thin face, tapping his fingers on his knee. Marion hadn’t believed him when Terence had told him the news yesterday. Terence couldn’t blame him. He himself needed proof. And that proof could be in the envelope Striker had just handed him.