Page 76 of The Drowned Woman
Typical Cherise, always finding the best in people. Was that what got her killed?
“Why?” Luka asked the question that had haunted him for seventeen years.
“You, Luka. She rejected me. Not because I was too young or too short or too skinny. Because she said she could only love you.” He stood again, towering over Luka. “Do you have any idea how many people I’ve killed because she said no? Because of you?” Jack motioned with his gun. “Get up. I expect you want to know everything that happened to Cherise. Well, I’m going to show you.”
Given the handcuffs restraining his wrists behind his back, Luka was forced to leverage his weight against the couch—taking care to avoid the dead man’s legs—in order to push himself to standing.
“Massimo,” Luka said, trying to buy time. “Did he know?”
“Not until two seconds before I killed him,” Jack answered jovially, one professional sharing trade secrets with another. “But, goodness me, doesn’t he make the perfect fall guy? Had you fooled, all of you.”
They moved across the room, leaving Massimo’s body behind. “And Trudy? Why did you kill her? It obviously wasn’t part of your plan.”
Jack jerked Luka’s arm angrily. “Damn woman wouldn’t stop chattering about seeing me in Smithfield. I couldn’t risk her telling Risa and Risa putting two and two together once word got out about the guy I’d killed in Smithfield. After all, I was meant to be a hundred miles away that day.”
Finally, it all clicked. “Your job. Environmental compliance—”
“Sends me all over. I go where the job takes me, grab a map, throw the dice and let chance guide me from there. Never the same place twice, never the same type of killing twice. I could’ve kept going for the rest of my life if it wasn’t for Trudy.”
They reached the front door. Jack opened it, the hollow echo of the rain drumming on the portico roof forcing Luka to raise his voice. “Except it wasn’t all random, was it? Not after you targeted Risa.”
“Risa.” Jack spoke her name like a sigh whispered in church. “I couldn’t hide from her, didn’t want to—I wanted to share everything with her. I knew she’d see my genius, would fall in love with Chaos as much as she had plain old Jack. With time.” He nudged Luka with the gun. “Time we don’t have anymore. Thanks to you.” Jack led Luka back out to where the van and the Honda sat. “That’s good. Stop there.”
Stall, just stall, Luka thought. How much time had passed already?
“Was raining even worse than this, that night with Cherise.” Jack continued his commentary. “A bit warmer, too. But that’s okay.”
“Why make it look like a suicide?” Luka kept his tone calm, casual, concealing any hint of his rage—and his fear. He turned to face Jack. If he was going to die, it would be facing his killer, not from a bullet to the back.
Jack’s mouth twisted as he considered the question. “You know, I didn’t go out there expecting to hurt anyone. I let the air out of her tire during her little study group. Then I followed her. I thought I’d be her Prince Charming, coming to her rescue when her tire went flat. Thought she’d be so happy to see me. And she was. At first.”
Cherise always had a good nose for bullshit. Luka bet she saw right through whatever story teenaged Jack had tried to feed her about his happening along just at the right time that night.
“Then,” Jack continued, “she tried to drive off. But I jumped into her car with her, took the keys. I tried to tell her how I felt, but she kept screaming and fighting. Wouldn’t give me a chance, and she was just so damned loud, I had to shut her up—”
“You strangled her.” The words tasted of ash and sorrow. Luka fought the urge to charge the other man—a suicide mission, but if it silenced the roaring rage filling him, seventeen years’ worth of fury and anguish, it might be worth it.
“First time I ever hurt anyone. It felt—” Jack’s eyes shone in the overhead light, while the rain continued its drumming against the portico’s roof. “It felt… glorious. If you’ve never done it, killed someone just for the pure pleasure of seeing the life—all their hopes and dreams—drain from their eyes, well, you just can’t understand.” He shook his head as if pitying Luka. “You’ll never understand. And just like sex, the first time—it’s always special. You never forget it. My Cherise. She was so much more mine than she ever was yours.”
Luka bit back his retort. He was no longer the college kid who’d lost the love of life, lost their future together, no longer the boy dreaming of being a poet, using words to inspire and change the world. No. Jack O’Brien might not realize it, but Luka was in charge here.
All he had to do was hold the fort until backup arrived.
Jack led Luka to the van, opened the passenger door, and pushed him onto the seat. Then Jack took the driver’s seat. He turned on the ignition. “It was easier with Cherise. You remember, where she went in? The hill leading down to the bluff overlooking the river. All it took was a bit of a nudge.”
He hit the gas, deliberately moving the vehicle forward until the van’s bumper touched the rear of the Honda. Then he kept accelerating slowly as the sedan began to roll forward, heading toward the river. It slowed as it hit the muddy grass beyond the gravel, but Jack merely sped up, the larger vehicle propelling the smaller one.
“With Cherise I was so worried about leaving evidence. It’s why I almost didn’t take her ring. But I couldn’t resist—I needed a piece of her, something to remember her by.” He glanced at Luka. “Smartest thing I did that night. It sold the story. Broken engagement, distraught lover flinging her ring into the river, betrayed by her man, using his own book of poetry to send a final message. Give people a mystery and they want to solve it. But give them a story and they’re satisfied, stop looking for answers. Even heartbroken Luka Jericho. Didn’t hurt that everyone blamed you.”
The Honda came to a stop mere yards away from the river. Jack tried a gentle nudge from the van, but the other vehicle barely moved. Luka held his breath, hoping the Honda’s wheels were caught in the mud or on an unseen tree trunk or any obstacle that would make Jack see the risk was too large, abandon his plan.
“It’s how I’ve been able to keep playing my game all these years—no one suspected me, not ever.” Jack threw the car into reverse and backed up.
“Until you decided you needed an audience,” Luka said. “Someone who would appreciate your brilliance, even if she had no idea who you were.”
“My beautiful, brilliant Risa. She surprised even me, how quickly she became obsessed with Chaos. Have to say, it felt weird, I was actually jealous of my alter ego, she spent so much time and energy on him. But you’re wrong. I didn’t do it for the attention. I did it to save Risa. I hadn’t realized how devastated she’d be after she couldn’t travel anymore. So I fixed that for her. Just like I saved her from ever again running into danger simply to chase down a story.”
Luka turned to Jack, forcing himself to act surprised. “You’re the one making Risa sick?”
