Her Last Day (Jessie Cole #1)(80)

“Oh, really? Who do you mean, exactly? Do you think it will be that lunatic crime reporter you’ve been hanging out with? Is he going to save you?” He rubbed his chin. “Hmm. The one who doesn’t remember who he is or where he’s from? We both know it won’t be that cop friend of yours . . . the one who arrested Zee’s father as a suspect in the Heartless Killer case. He’s way too busy to come looking for you.”

“What are you talking about?” Zee asked. “How would you know any of that? You’re a liar.”

He smiled at Zee. “I watched the news. I have Internet. I’m not a mental case like you.”

“Is it true?” Zee asked Jessie. “Was my father arrested?”

“It’s true,” Jessie said. “I spoke to him this morning, told him I would find you.”

Forrest Bloom clapped his hands. “And you kept your promise. Good job, Jessie Cole.”

“My dad doesn’t like being trapped in confined places any more than I do,” Zee said before she shook the bars again, making a racket. “Let me go, you fucking monster!”

Forrest’s facial expression changed in an instant. He lifted both hands and shook the metal bars right along with her. “You’re the fucking monster!” he yelled. “When are you going to get that through your fucked-up brain? Where are all those people you talked about that were going to come out here and mess with me? Huh? Where are they, Zee?”

She backed away. “You’re an ass.”

“You’re a coward,” he shot back. “If you could see yourself now, you would realize all those voices in your head are just worthless thoughts in your brain. Nothing more.”

“Shut up!” Natalie shouted. “Just shut up! Both of you!”

“Well, would you look at that,” Forrest said. “The only daughter of the most inept social worker ever to live has some life left inside of her.”

“What’s your endgame? What’s the purpose of all this?” Natalie asked as she pushed herself to her feet, struggling to stay upright as she walked his way. “Did you bring us all here as payback for the things your daddy did to you? Is that why we’re here? Did anyone ever tell you that two wrongs don’t make a right? Did you ever stop to think that you’ve become worse than the man who you spent your whole life despising?” She snorted. “How can that possibly make things better for you?”

Forrest turned away and walked back to the stairs.

Jessie felt the ropes loosen. She continued to work her hands, rolling her wrists, ignoring the areas where the rope had chafed her skin. Almost there. Just a little longer and she’d be free.

“Where are you going, Forrest?” Natalie asked. “Off to get the hose again? Or do you have more spiders to toss at us? They were delicious, by the way, kept us nourished, thank you very much. What new-and-improved torture have you worked out in that demented mind of yours?”

Forrest stopped, his foot resting on the first step. “I’m going to rip that tongue right out of your mouth.”

“Oh no!” Natalie cried, her tone lined with sarcasm. “Please don’t do that!”

Jessie tried to ignore the scene playing out before her. She needed to focus on getting free. Maybe Natalie knew that. Maybe she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Did you get kicked out of college because you were as dumb as your father always said you were?” Natalie asked him. “Or did one pretty girl too many turn down your unwanted advances? I mean, come on—nobody could love a boy like you. A boy his own father couldn’t love.”

Forrest had continued climbing the stairs as Natalie hurled every taunt imaginable at the man. Once he reached the top, his steps were loud stomps above their heads.

“I think that’s enough,” Zee said in a low voice. “Getting him mad is one thing, but he’s going to kill you.”

Jessie looked over at Natalie then, and she could see it in the woman’s eyes. That was exactly what she wanted. This wasn’t about escaping. She had given up. She was ready to die.





FORTY-FOUR

The moment Ben caught sight of the weather vane jutting out from the top of the barn, he pulled over to the side of the gravel road and shut off the engine. Without hesitating, he climbed out and stayed low as he crept along one edge of the road until he could see the front entrance to the farmhouse.

Parked in front of the house was Jessie’s car.

His heart sank. Who the hell was Forrest Bloom, and what was Jessie doing in there? The fact that she had told Olivia she would be home soon and now wasn’t answering her phone didn’t bode well.

He pulled out his cell and called the police, gave them the address, telling them that an armed and dangerous man was inside, holed up with a gun and plenty of ammunition. People were hurt and they needed an ambulance. Disconnecting the call, he then slid his phone into his back pocket and continued onward. If he ended up being wrong, then so be it. He’d learned from experience that he’d rather be wrong than sorry.

He made his way to the front entry, hoping he hadn’t been seen through a window. Slowly he turned the doorknob. Locked.

Standing still, he listened. Heard nothing. No sounds of appliances running, no radio or voices emitting from a television set. He backtracked down the porch stairs and made his way around the side of the house. He didn’t like guns and therefore didn’t carry one, but for the first time in his life he wished he’d put more thought into that decision.