Dead Spots (Scarlett Bernard #1)(74)

I shivered against the dank cold. My canvas jacket had been removed, and I didn’t see it anywhere near me, so maybe it was up the stairs. Or by Kirsten’s front door, or anywhere in between, I thought, fear igniting in my stomach. I had no idea where I was, and worse, no one else had any idea, either.


I don’t know how long I just sat there, trying to push away my fear, but after what seemed like hours, I heard a telltale creak and saw a work boot hit the first wooden stair, immediately followed by another boot, a pair of jeans, and a T-shirt. The man flicked a switch at the bottom of the stairs, and light burst into my eyes. When they adjusted, I realized I was looking into the face of Aaron Sanderson, the guy who owned the bait shop.

“You,” I said brilliantly.

He smirked. “Me.” Aaron Sanderson/Jared Hess made his way across the basement floor, stopping a few feet away from me and folding his arms across his chest. Up close, with only the T-shirt, I realized just how muscled his arms and chest were. How had I not put this together?

“Where’s Kirsten?”

He grinned broadly. “On her way to a wedding in Santa Barbara. But damned if she didn’t forget her cell.” He held up a little blue phone, waving it in front of me like a kid teasing his little sister. “And her keys.” He held them up in the other hand.

“What’d you do, steal her purse?”

“Something like that.”

“Bad idea,” I told him. “Kirsten isn’t a great person to mess with.”

He snorted. “Whatever. What’s she going to do, hex me with warts?” He had dropped the slightly dim, down-home act we’d seen at the bait shop.

“What do you want, Jared?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You know who I am.”

“Yes. And I know about Emily.”

“You know nothing about Emily,” he countered, venom in his voice.

I finally pulled my knees to my chest, putting my cuffed arms around them, and hugging my legs. I didn’t want to look weak, but I was freezing. “I know that Joanna killed her and that you killed Joanna, and the vampire who was with her that night, and the vampire who only punished her for a few years instead of ending her. I know that you killed Ronnie, too, although I don’t know why.”

“Oh, that was for you.”

I felt sick. “Just to set me up?”

He rushed toward me then, and I cringed involuntarily, expecting a slap, but he dropped down a few inches from my face and grabbed my ankles, dragging them out so he could sit on my legs. He put one hand around my throat to pin me against the wall. He wasn’t strangling me, but I could feel the strength in his hands, how easy it would be. I tried not to move, not to draw any more attention. He looked down at my trapped legs, my stomach, his eyes lingering on my breasts. Holding me there, he leered. “Not just. What you do, you and that dead bitch, is a goddamned crime. You deserve to be punished for it. I thought it would be great for you to go to prison for murder; it had a nice ring of irony about it. But you were just supposed to be a bonus, a little footnote to the plan, and I got tired of you slipping away. I’ll settle for just killing you myself.”

“Then why don’t you?”

He gave me a wicked smile. “I need you first. One more job.”

“I won’t do it.”

He hit me then, a hard backhand that spurted blood into my mouth. I saw stars for a second, and when my vision cleared, he was smiling. “Not so tough now, are you?”

Oh, come on. Stubborn and sullen are my frickin’ trademarks. So I spat a glob of dark blood into his face. He screamed in outrage, jumping back a few steps and scrubbing at his face with the tail of his T-shirt.

“Feel better, you spineless son of a bitch? Does it make your tiny penis feel all big and hard to smack around girls? You think that would make Emily happy?”

He bellowed with rage, starting to crouch back down to pounce on me, but just as suddenly, he paused, smiled, and straightened up. “Nope,” he said cheerfully, bouncing a little on his toes, “not going to work. I’m not going to kill you just so you don’t have to help me. Besides, you want to help me.” He reached for his back pocket, and I tensed, but he just pulled out an old-fashioned Polaroid picture and flipped it to the ground in front of me.

I reached out my shackled hands and turned it over. It was Corry, with her mom and brother, unloading a suitcase in front of a big Holiday Inn sign. She wore the same jeans and green top I’d seen her in that evening. She was biting her lip, looking worried, but her mom was reaching a reassuring arm toward her daughter’s shoulders.

“Remember, you’re not the only game in town anymore. Little Corry is all safe and cozy—as long as you do what you’re told. If not, I slit your throat and go pick up our girl. I’m not particularly interested in having to kill her whole family to take her, but if you insist on making me kill you...” He grinned, and a shiver of fear passed through me.

It was coming to my attention that he was batshit crazy. I turned my head and spit the rest of the blood on the concrete floor. If Hess killed me, maybe Jesse would find my DNA somehow and catch the f*cker.

“How did you find her?” I asked.

“Little Corry? Contacts.” He leaned back and spread out his arms, grinning. “I’ve got contacts all over town, on both sides of the Old World.”