Silver Falls - Anne Stuart [100]
But David wasn’t going to do that. He lay Sophie down on the plywood floor very carefully, and she could see that her daughter was alive, seemingly undamaged, and unconscious. It was a small blessing. He rose and turned to her, the gun looking quite natural in his small, well-manicured hand. “It took you a great deal longer than I would have expected, Rachel,” he said in a mild tone. “I thought you would have been up here at least an hour ago. Here I was, rushing to get Caleb properly trussed, afraid that the drugs would wear off and Sophie would start being difficult. I was really getting quite cross with you. Don’t you care about your daughter?”
“I didn’t have a car,” she said in a dull voice. “I had to break into someone’s house and steal one.”
David laughed. “How enterprising of you. But I told you that I didn’t mind if you drove the BMW.
I trust you.”
“I didn’t trust you.”
He laughed. “But the BMW is perfectly safe. It does still retain a hint of Melinda—I never would have guessed it would be so difficult to get the smell of putrefaction from a car trunk.”
She wasn’t going to throw up. “Who—Melinda?
Then it wasn’t a dead deer?”
“Don’t be naïve. I kept Melinda in the trunk for weeks. I thought I’d been careful—she was wrapped in layers of plastic and I sprinkled half a dozen boxes of baking soda back there to absorb the odor, along with some of those sprays. I have to tell you that those air fresheners are useless.”
“You should write the company a letter of complaint.”
“You’re making fun of me—but you know, I just might do that,” he said, moving toward her.
She could dive for the knife, but he’d shoot her first and then there’d be no one to help Sophie.
“That’s right, my love,” he said. “I really don’t want to shoot you. It’s just a matter of personal taste. I could certainly get away with it—it’s Caleb’s gun, after all. He’s going to be blamed for everything, and if you have a bullet in your skull it won’t make any difference. But I told you, I don’t like blood, and I don’t like loud noises.
You’re a very noisy person, did you know that, Rachel? Clomping around in those boots—I thought I’d gotten rid of them. Even in bare feet you always moved around the house like a storm trooper. You rattle dishes, you sing, you close doors too noisily, you drive too fast.”
“Is that why you’re going to kill me?”
Sophie had moved behind him, just the slightest stirring, and Rachel silently prayed. Get up, baby. Get away from here, fast.
“Of course not,” he said, affronted. “I could have trained you properly. Things just got out of control. You can thank my brother for that. We were doing just fine until he came home. We could have had three good years together, waiting for Sophie to mature and take your place, if he hadn’t barged in. Fortunately I’m a brilliant man, and I was prepared for any eventuality, and Caleb’s always had a bad habit of interfering with my particular pleasures. I must have known subconsciously that he’d come back when I met with Jessica. I’d planned to take her out of state but I changed my mind at the last minute. I’m intuitive, you know. I must have sensed his presence.”
Rachel just stared at him, sick inside. How could she have gotten her daughter into this? “But why, David?” she said, her voice desperate. “Why did you kill that girl?”
He looked at her with a pitying expression. “Because I had to. And I got away with it, time after time. I happen to be brilliant. My IQ is sixteen points higher than Ted Bundy’s.”
“You checked?”
“Of course I checked! He’s the gold standard against which everyone is measured, but I can assure you, I’m far brighter than he ever was.”
“I’m sure you are,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “Smart enough to know that this has gone too far. You’re going to get caught.”
“Don’t be absurd. I’ve been setting Caleb up for years. My father will give me an alibi—he can’t bear the thought of his golden son going to jail.”
“But what