Before She Dies (Alexandria Novels 3) - Page 39

“They loved it,” Levi said.

Charlotte wondered if his family had the ability to answer for themselves. “Great.”

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he said.

“Just taking a break.” She glanced up and saw Grady moving toward them. She held her ground and waited as he approached. “You all are in for a treat. This is Grady Tate, the owner of the carnival.”

Grady hesitated as if surprised she’d held her ground. “Howdy, folks.” He smiled at each, his gaze pausing on Marcia Kane for a split second. “Ms. Wellington giving you the rundown on the carnival?”

Confusion sparked in Levi’s gaze. “You two know each other?”

She locked gazes with Grady. No more running. No more lies. “I used to work for this carnival when I was a teenager. Grady, was my boss. Grady, this is Levi Kane. He’s a prosecutor in Alexandria.”

Grady nodded, his smile bright but disingenuous. “Glad you could visit my show.”

“We love the carnival,” he said. He draped his arm around his wife’s shoulders. Her smile was quick but stiff. Levi shook his head. “Charlotte, you worked in a place like this. I don’t believe it.”

All these years of hiding and now she had blown open the door to her past. “Believe it or not, I worked as the carnival psychic.”

“Really? When was all this?”

“In high school.”

“She was one of the best,” Grady said. “One of the best.”

Levi’s gaze sparked with laughter. “There are times in court that I wondered if you weren’t part sorceress.”

Her laugh was humorless. “Madame Divine sees all.”

He shook his head. “So did you read palms and tarot cards?”

“The whole deal. Even read tea leaves at one point.” This was going to be all over the courthouse by Monday. So be it. Let the world know her past was a mess.

“Well, you learn something new every day.”

“I was just trying to tempt Ms. Wellington to stay a little longer,” Grady said.

“Sorry. Big day tomorrow.” She checked her watch. “It’s getting late and I’ve got a mountain of work to do.”

“I’ll be burning the midnight oil, too,” Levi said.

“Well, nice seeing you.” She got into her BMW. With a final wave to Levi and his family, she drove off, knowing she had to figure out what really had happened to Mariah.

Grady poured a healthy dose of whiskey into his half-full cup of coffee. He took several large gulps before the whiskey took a little edge off his anger.

He moved to a collection of newspaper articles and flipped to one featuring a large picture of Charlotte. The headline read: LOCAL ATTORNEY SHOT, EXPECTED TO RECOVER.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he said to the professional headshot the paper had used with the article. “You were a fucking nobody when I married that mother of yours. Living in motels. No sense of discipline. You were headed to a life of shit.”

He took another gulp. “I warned Mariah that her behavior was going to get her in trouble. I warned her. And in the end she got what she deserved.

“I fucking came to you hat in hand and you’ve been nothing but a bitch.” He pressed the mug to his temple and closed his eyes. Sudden hot tears pooled under the lids. “Nothing but a bitch.”

Checking his watch, he slammed down the glass and disappeared into the night.

Maya woke to the heavy scent of urine and the coppery aroma of blood. A tiny sphere of light dripped from an overhead bulb that rocked and swayed over her head. Confused, she stared at the light, trying to clear the haze from her brain. Where was she? How had she gotten here? She moistened her lips and tried to roll on her side, but pain shot through her body like a lightning bolt cutting through bone and muscle. “Oh, God.”

Had it been an accident? Tears pooling in her eyes, she relaxed back and took deep even breaths. Think! Remember!

And through the darkness and fog, her mind tripped back to the coffee shop, the new man and ... the needle and the crushing fear. He’d drugged her and tossed her in the trunk of his car.

Moaning her fear and frustration, she rolled her head from side to side. How could she have been so stupid? How many times had she told her students to be careful and not trust strangers?

Carefully, she pried her eyes open, squinted past the light above, and focused on her surroundings. She craned her head to the right and saw a simple workbench with everyday tools. Hammer. Screwdriver. Drill. Down here, the objects she’d never had thought twice about took on a whole new and menacing meaning.

The rattle of keys to the right caught her attention, and she spotted a figure moving toward a workbench. He set his keys on the bench, removed a rubber apron from a peg, and slipped it over his head. As he tied the strings at the base of his back, he turned toward her.

“You’re lucky I don’t have a lot of time.”

“Why?”

He grabbed a fistful of her hair. “Because there are so many others I have yet to kill.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Sure you do. You all talk to each other. I know you do.” He shoved out a frustrated sigh. “But nothing has happened that I cannot fix.”

“Fix what?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s time.”

Fear sharpened her senses. “Time for what?”

“Your confession.”

Maya stared into dark, clear eyes that looked so sane. She had always made it a policy not to open herself to strangers—she’d heard enough horror stories. But he’d seemed like such a good guy. Normal. Grounded.

She turned her head away from his gaze. “Where am I?”

“My special place. It’s where I do my work.”

“Work? What kind of work?”

“God’s work.”

Evil shouldn’t be so calm and attractive. It should be angry and hideous. Her body ached so much. Her insides felt like they were on fire. “Oh God, what did you do to me?” She tugged against the restraints securing her hands above her head.

His expression hardened. “How dare you call on His name?”

“What?”

He leaned over the table and pressed his lips right next to her ear. “People like you don’t have the right to call to God.”

“People like me?” Logic. Try to reach him. Maybe he’s made a mistake. “What kind of people are you talking about?”

“Witches. Those that have been sent by the Dark Prince

to destroy all that is good.”

Hysteria bubbled. “What are you talking about? I’m a history teacher. I barely date. I pay my taxes. I have a cat. I’ve never missed a mortgage payment.”

“And you teach the dark arts.” He unlocked something under her, which enabled him to move the gurney toward a wall. He butted the head against a big sink.

“I teach history.”

“Of witches.” He reached behind her and turned on a faucet. Immediately, water rushed in the sink behind her head and pooled and gathered.

“I talk about the history of Salem. Of the women who were persecuted.” God, how many facts did she have to throw at this man to reach him?

“Witches.”

“Not witches. Good women.” She all but screamed the last words.

“You say they were good women. But after we’ve finished here tonight, I’d wager you will see it all very differently.”

“What the hell are you going to do to me?” Her heart hammered so hard in her chest, she truly thought it would burst through her ribs.

He carefully rolled up his sleeve, and then slid his hands into gloves. “Let’s find out right now.”

Her brain scrambled to keep him talking. If he were talking, he wouldn’t be doing what he was going to do. Keep him talking. “Who are you?”

“I’m a witch hunter. I find women like you and expose them for the evil they are.”

“I’m not evil.”

“Yes, you are.”

He pushed another something underneath her and this time the gurney didn’t roll but inclined. He tilted the edge back, forcing her head to dip. She clenched her fingers into fists and water from the sink rushed around her head and then her cheek. The water teased her mouth and then the end of her nose. Panicking, she closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath just as her head went below the surface of the water.

Her heart pounded in her ears as she struggled not to lose her cool and hold her breath. She’d been a swimmer in college. Once she’d swum the length of the pool underwater. How long had that taken? Thirty seconds? A minute?

She counted. One. Two. Three ...

Her heart pounded faster and faster. The jugular in her neck throbbed. She tightened her fingers into fists as if she were holding on to an invisible ledge. A rush of noise flooded her ears as her body begged for air.

Tags: Mary Burton Alexandria Novels Suspense
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