Her Kind of Hero Page 12

  “What? You were telling me it was Mark all along!” Why the hell couldn’t I manage pitiful?

  “But deep down you knew the truth.”

  “He knew the truth, you mean,” I said. The pieces were falling into place. “When he was here visiting, he realized you were obsessed with me. He wasn’t trying to come on to me. He was trying to warn me about you.”

  Anthony’s expression darkened. “I heard him talking to you. That was when I realized he wasn’t really my friend. I haven’t seen him since.” He snickered.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “I was so pissed at him for ratting me out that I gave the cell phone salesman Mark’s name and paid for the phone with my company credit card. I can’t wait until they find him and start asking a few questions.”

  “The calls were from you.” I didn’t mean to say it out loud, but I couldn’t think.

  “If you really think about it, you knew it was me all along.”

  “I don’t see how.”

  He sighed in frustration. “I’ll show you how you knew if you’ll just let me get something from my truck.”

  He went to the back door behind me. In case Derek hadn’t heard me earlier, I grabbed the chance to whimper a little louder. “Can I at least sit up? I can’t sit up like this. I need help.”

  “You’re so impatient.”

  He shook his head as if I were a petulant child asking for candy. I went cold. Until that moment, I’d been shocked, angry and only a little scared. But his amused reaction frightened the hell out of me. My harmless old choir buddy, someone who cared about me and bought me ice cream, was secretly the kind of monster who would hit me and tie me up, and not think twice about any of it. If he could do this much to me, what else might he do?

  He left the door open a crack, but tied as I was, I couldn’t get to my feet without help, let alone manage to get down the three steps from the deck to the ground. With the door open, I didn’t dare say anything too loudly.

  “Derek, if you can hear this, please hurry. I got your email too late, but you’re right, it’s Anthony. I don’t know what he’s planning, but he’s already hit me once. Call the police,” I said as fast as I could.

  I heard the door to Anthony’s truck slam shut. He came through the door a moment later and closed it behind him. He pressed the button lock.

  “You know, Vanessa, you really should have a better lock on here. This doesn’t offer very good security,” he said.

  “I’ll be sure to remember that.” I sort of hoped Derek didn’t hear that bit.

  He was holding a large photo album, the kind bound in fake leather with Memories stamped in gold on the front. This one was scuffed, and the gold foil was peeling off. “You’re going to love this.”

  “It’s hard to see anything lying down. Can I sit up?”

  “Sure you can.” He agreed too quickly. I saw why as soon as he sat next to me on the floor. With the album in his lap, he pulled me into a sitting position and put his arm around me. “Isn’t this cozy?”

  “This” was horrific. He still smelled like greasy food cooked in a kitchen without ventilation. I made a noise that I hoped would sound noncommittal. I wasn’t sure if I could take another punch to my head.

  “This,” he said with pride, “is your life, Vanessa Drake!”

  “Bingham.” I nearly bit my tongue, but it was too late, I’d argued with the crazy person.

  “What?”

  I tried to smile. “You know I changed my name when I married Luke. I haven’t been Vanessa Drake since c-college.”

  His arm tensed up. I cringed. He mistook my fear of setting him off again for a more tender emotion and cuddled me close. “Don’t worry about the past. It’s time for a fresh start. It’s like I told you. You won’t even remember his name after you’ve been with me. Now, look at these pictures. This is how I know you couldn’t really believe it was Mark. He never had a camera.”

  Half the album was filled with pictures of me from that choir trip. The other half were from the last fifteen years. He turned the pages very slowly, pointing out details in nearly every shot. Most of them weren’t very good. They’d clearly been taken without my knowledge, with dozens of them being side views, or me looking away from the camera. The few of me facing straight ahead were blown up too large for their resolutions, just like the one he’d sent me in the smashed picture frame.

  We got to the last page. Anthony was waiting for me to say something.

  “Y-you really put a lot of work into it?”

  “I was happy to do it. It was romantic.”

  “I don’t remember you taking so many pictures.”

  “I was trying to capture your spirit. Posed pictures wouldn’t have done justice to you.”

  That reminded me. “Why did you send me those pictures yesterday?”

  “Well, you said you didn’t get my messages in the songs I was sending you.” I almost threw up. He saw my face and rushed to continue. “Ha ha, I’m mostly kidding. Mainly I wanted to make sure the police don’t come after us later. I thought I would give them some more evidence to worry about. They’ll waste time trying to find the photo printer and talk to post office people and all kinds of crazy stuff. And that’s on top of chasing down the cell phone clue. Meanwhile, we’ll be gone.”

  “Us? We’ll be gone?”

  He closed the album. “So, am I winning you over?” He looked serious and eager.

  I didn’t want him to get angry. I just wanted time. I tried to smile. “This is all certainly a big surprise.”

  “Wait until you see the next part!” He gave me a squeeze and let me stay seated, leaning back against the wall by the roses. He grabbed the tote bag off the counter. “You will never guess what I have here.”

  Probably not, I thought to myself.

  Like a magician with a dead rabbit and a moldy hat, he produced a bundle of red fabric from the bag. “Ta-da!”

  “I can’t… What is it?”

  He shook it out. It was a red, halter-necked swimsuit like the one I wore during the choir tour. It looked old, and I heard the crunchy sound of old elastic breaking apart when he stretched it between his hands.

  “It looks sort of like my old swimsuit. “

  “It is exactly like your old swimsuit. Isn’t that romantic?”

  He kept using that word. “It can’t be, though. This one is still bright red, and mine was faded when I finally tossed it.”

  “You said you got it from Macy’s. I went and found this one at Macy’s when we got back from the trip. See how well I listen to you? You once said women like men who listen.”

  I felt dizzy. “You wanted a swimsuit like mine?”

  “No, I wanted to get you the exact same swimsuit to wear when I finally got a chance to be with you. You know, to remind us of that wonderful summer. Only this time, you wouldn’t say no to going out with me.”

  “Wow.”

  “Just wait. You’re going to wear that swimsuit…here.” He pulled out a brochure and a Spanish phrase book. He set them at my feet and knelt in front of me. “What do you think?”

  “A resort in…Mexico? You’re planning to take me to Mexico?”

  “Not just Mexico. This place is way off the beaten track. You’ll need the phrase book if you ever have to deal with the resort staff, but you might not ever see them. Secluded bungalows, miles from civilization, and the staff is very discreet.”

  I felt giddy. I wondered if the phrase book had a translation for “I’ve been kidnapped by a crazy person, call the American Embassy.” Meanwhile, I just stared and tried to hold on. The phone hadn’t started beeping, which meant Derek must have answered it. And if he answered it, he was listening, and if he was listening, he knew I was in danger. If he called the police right away, a cruiser could be along any second. I just needed to keep Anthony talking. When he was talking, he wasn’t doing anything scary or moving me to a place where Derek couldn’t find me.

  “When did you have time to put all this t
ogether?”

  “The scrapbook is something I’ve done a picture at a time for years. I’ve been working on it more, lately. I was really making progress when I got fired for spending too much time on my laptop during working hours. But I had to know what you were doing, and you only used your computer when you were home from work. After all those years you’d think they could have cut me a little slack. No one gives me a break, ever.” He was opening and closing his fists. It was better than him being angry at me, but not by much. I had to calm him down.

  “I’m so sorry, Anthony.”

  He smiled at me. “It was for the best. It meant when you needed me I could be right there. I am sorry I pretended I was still working, though. I was planning to ask you on a date and I thought you’d say no if I was an unemployed bum. Girls are like that, you know,” he added, shaking a finger.

  “Well, is the bag empty?”

  “Nope. One more thing for you. The only other thing in there is mine.” He went to the bag and pulled out a small box. Inside was a plain gold wedding band. He knelt in a grotesque parody of a loving man.

  A bubble of hysterical laughter was pushing up, but I shoved it back down. I’d been waiting for someone to love me again, and I’d thrown away my only chance with Derek in part because he wasn’t romantic enough to get down on one knee. And here it was, my dream proposal. I clenched my fists until my fingernails were cutting half circles into my palms to keep from making a sound.

  “Surprise!”

  “W-w-why?”

  “Because you’re going to be my wife, dear Vanessa. I can’t let anyone else have you ever again.”

  The doorbell rang. I opened my mouth to scream. Too late. Anthony slapped his hand over my mouth and reached for the blue bandana tied to his belt loop. My bottom teeth cut into my lip until I tasted blood. Tears of pain and hopelessness blurred my vision.

  “I’m very sorry, Vanessa, but you haven’t said you’ll marry me. I need to get rid of whoever that is real quick, and you need to stay quiet.” He gagged me with the bandana before I could argue. He pushed me back down on the floor in the helpless landed-trout position. The doorbell rang again.

  He hadn’t been joking about there being something in the bag for him. He grabbed a gun from it on his way through the kitchen. I thrashed, helplessly.

  I heard two sets of footsteps. Anthony was moving to the front door, and someone was running flat out through the alley. The person outside leapt onto the deck and kicked the door.

  The kick was powerful enough to splinter the wood around the lock, but the door held.

  “What the hell?” screamed Anthony from the front of the house. I heard him running back to the den.

  A second kick hit the door, and this time the wood shattered and the remains of the door flew open. Derek stood there like an avenging angel, his muscular arms pumped up and his fists out. He looked down and saw me bound and gagged on the floor. His jaw clenched. He took a step toward me.

  He may have been furious, but he wasn’t armed. Anthony had the gun.

  My legs were inches away from the table with the roses. I hooked my feet around one of the spindly legs and jerked with all my strength. The table crashed down right in front of Anthony charging through the kitchen. Roses and florist pebbles went flying, and Anthony ran straight into the mess. His feet went backward and he fell, face first onto the floor. The gun came out of his hand and flew across the floor to land at Derek’s feet.

  With contempt, Derek kicked the gun behind him onto the deck. “You little dirtbag,” he snarled.

  Anthony was still scrabbling on the floor, trying to stand. Derek grabbed the smaller man and hauled him upright. “Tying up a woman? Hitting a woman? You’re a worthless, gutless piece of garbage.”

  “Needed time…proving…my wife…she could love me…”

  Derek let Anthony’s feet drop to the floor. “You’re disgusting. As if she’d love scum like you.”

  I saw Anthony’s face turn dark with anger. “Don’t you talk to me that way. You haven’t done anything to deserve her. I haven’t just been sitting around mooning over her since college. I’ve been paying attention. I’ve been watching her. I’ve been figuring out how to win her over. You’ve done nothing.”

  “I’ve been her friend. I’ve loved her. I think I’ve just been waiting for her to give us a chance,” said Derek, looking at me.

  “You’ve got no more chance than I do. At least I had a plan. I still have a plan.” His back was to me. His hand reached around and pulled up his shirt. In the waistband of his pants was a tiny pistol.

  “Gun! He’s got another gun!” I tried to shriek through my gag. All that came out was a noise. It was enough. Anthony turned toward me, just far enough that Derek saw the new threat.

  Derek punched Anthony in the nose with all of his farm-chore muscle. The blow had enough force to propel Anthony into the air and against the wall. I rolled out of the way just in time to avoid cushioning his landing.

  The room was silent. In the distance I heard police sirens coming closer to my house. Derek knelt beside me and loosened the gag.

  “Sweet girl? Are you all right?”

  Now that I was safe, I was even more terrified. I could barely talk. “You answered my call,” I choked out.

  He looked confused. “Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?” He untied my wrists and helped me sit up.

  “I was so rude to you. I’m so sorry. I thought I’d hurt you, and—”

  “You thought wrong if you thought that would be enough to keep me away from you.” His brilliant green eyes turned dark with rage when he saw the lump on my head. “We need to get you checked out.”

  “I’m fine. Now.”

  “You’re going to the hospital if I have to carry you myself.”

  In spite of the last hour, I had to smile. “Promise?”

  He laughed. “That’s my Van.”

  The thought of Derek kicking down my door to rescue me flashed through my mind. Something fell into place so hard that I was surprised Derek didn’t hear the sound. “I am, you know.”

  “What are you?”

  “Your Van.”

  Our eyes met. His were full of questions, and I tried to answer them with all the certainty and love that I felt for him. “Derek. Forgive me. I was wrong. I’ve been thinking all day, and I wanted so much to tell you—”

  Anthony moaned and struggled to a sitting position. His nose was off center and bleeding like crazy. At that moment, the police arrived. Soon the house was swarming with officers, crime scene photographers and probably caterers, considering how long they spent taking our statements. Anthony didn’t deny anything, and they hauled him off in handcuffs. A paramedic bent over me with a penlight, checking my pupils for any sign of a concussion.

  All throughout the chaos, Derek never let go of my hand.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was Saturday again. I leaned against Derek’s chest, his arm snug around my shoulders. He propelled his porch swing with one foot. The moon rose, coloring in his east pasture with silver and gray shadows.

  “How are you feeling, Van?”

  “Happy. Safe. A little stupid.”

  He laughed, a sound I felt rather than heard. “Why do you feel stupid?”

  “I should have realized that Anthony was crazy. Hell, I should have realized he was the stalker. And instead I let him in the house.” I said.

  “You couldn’t have known how far gone he was, sweet girl. None of those guns were registered, for one thing.”

  I sighed. “But there were lots of things I did know, thanks to you. You’re going to be a heck of a witness at the trial.”

  “I didn’t put it all together until the very end, though.”

  “You were right about so much.”

  “I was also right about the door needing a real lock, but that worked out for the best.”

  I shivered with delight. “That was some move, the way you busted into the house.”

  “It was nothin
g.”

  “If that’s your nothing, I’d love to see your something.” He gave me a squeeze but didn’t answer. “You never told me how it all went down from your point of view.”

  “You didn’t answer when I said hello. Then you said something about a concussion and being tied up. I called 911 from the kitchen phone. Then I drove over as fast as I could. I was going to wait outside until the police came, but when I heard him mention marriage, I decided I should distract him. So I rang the bell and then ran around to the back..”