Lisa Jackson's Bentz And Montoya Bundle Part 261

"You really don't know?" She paused, thought for a second. "He left me. Not once, but twice, for the same b.i.t.c.h that kept breaking his heart." She looked toward the wall, but seemed to focus on the middle distance, to a place only she could see. "I loved him, I took him back, I trusted him, believed in him..." Her voice faced and tears welled in her eyes. "And he left me. Alone. And after Jennifer died, the son of a b.i.t.c.h poured himself into a bottle. Would he let me help him? h.e.l.l, no!" She sniffed loudly, straightened her shoulders. "That coward left L.A., went to New Orleans, and found you." She was shaking her head. "He never looked back. And you, the wife who should know all his secrets, you don't even know who I am, do you?"

That was the truth. Olivia couldn't place her.

The spurned lover said ruefully, "Maybe it's best this way. You don't need to know," she said. "But Bentz. He will. He'll get it and he'll live with it for the rest of his life."

Olivia stared at the camera and felt a wave of nausea. Oh, G.o.d, she was going to be sick. From the pregnancy? From fear? "What are you planning to do?" she asked in a voice that she didn't recognize as her own.

"What does it look like? I'm going to film. Well, it's not really film, all digital, but I'm going to make a movie of you."

Olivia flashed to all the prisoners of wars she'd seen with the enemy, forced to say things they didn't mean, beliefs they'd never held, at the point of a gun or risk of being beheaded. She started to shake inside and had to talk herself down. Think rationally. Nothing had happened yet.

"It's for posterity." Satisfied that the camera and tripod were secure, the woman checked the viewfinder, and squinting, angled the lens to her satisfaction. "There we go, now we can begin." She flipped a switch and turned the camera on, then she stood in front of the cage, just out of Olivia's reach, but in front of the camera's eye.

"Hi, RJ," she said, without any of the breathy tone she'd used in her phone calls. "I hope you find this, along with the boat and your wife."

What? Oh G.o.d, no!

"You should," she continued. "The camera's not only waterproof, it's meant to film underwater. As you can see, I captured Olivia...She's been my guest here on the Merry Anne Merry Anne for over a day now and I was hoping she and I could hang out a little longer, but...gee, I think I'd better not waste any more time and the truth of the matter is, she bores me." She looked at Olivia. "Say 'hi' to Ricky, Livvie. Wave. Show him that you're fine. So far." for over a day now and I was hoping she and I could hang out a little longer, but...gee, I think I'd better not waste any more time and the truth of the matter is, she bores me." She looked at Olivia. "Say 'hi' to Ricky, Livvie. Wave. Show him that you're fine. So far."

Olivia didn't move. Not only was she scared to death but she wouldn't give this lunatic the satisfaction.

"Oops, seems like Livvie Livvie is in a bad mood. Maybe she'll talk when I leave. You'll have quite a bit of time alone while I sail out into open water. is in a bad mood. Maybe she'll talk when I leave. You'll have quite a bit of time alone while I sail out into open water.

"I could kill her as easily as I did the others. My good friends Shana and Lorraine and Fortuna. I did miss Tally, but you know, sometimes you just can't win 'em all, and I do have Livvie, now, don't I? They helped me, those friends of Jennifer's. They helped me learn so much about you, RJ, about Jennifer and your life together. Poor Jennifer. She just couldn't keep her mouth shut. Told her friends every detail, from what you did together over the weekend to where you first made love. And her friends, they remembered."

Olivia was dying inside, feeling the betrayal, knowing this psycho set them up to be used, then murdered.

"So you killed them?" Olivia said as the boat rocked slowly, creaking a bit with the motion of the water.

"Of course!" She shot Olivia an irritated glance that suggested Olivia was a moron. Or worse. "For a shrink, you sure have trouble connecting the dots. I had no choice but to kill those women. They might have put two and two together and ruined everything. And this way, the police department had to look at your husband again as the doer."

"So you murdered five people, three of Jennifer's friends and those twin girls."

"Please!" She turned then, her face florid. "I did not not have anything to do with that. That idiotic Twenty-one killer, he killed those twins. A repeat of the killings all those years ago, the Caldwell girls. That sick son of a b.i.t.c.h picked one h.e.l.luva time to resurface," she said, visibly shaking. "I can't believe you would even suggest I would be a part of that! He's a serial killer; gets his rocks off by killing innocents." have anything to do with that. That idiotic Twenty-one killer, he killed those twins. A repeat of the killings all those years ago, the Caldwell girls. That sick son of a b.i.t.c.h picked one h.e.l.luva time to resurface," she said, visibly shaking. "I can't believe you would even suggest I would be a part of that! He's a serial killer; gets his rocks off by killing innocents."

"Not like you," Olivia said, trying to keep her voice cool and calm.

"This is all part of a plan. It's all about Bentz understanding."

"But you killed innocents as well."

"Shana McIntyre? Innocent? Never. Jennifer's friends, they had to die. It's different."

"Dead is dead."

"This is revenge. The Twenty-one, he's just a sicko. He He deserves to die." deserves to die."

"You're as sick as he is."

For that she caught a malicious glare. "You stupid, stupid b.i.t.c.h. You don't know what you're talking about. You just don't get it, do you?" She took in a big calming breath, her hands clenching and un clenching into fists as if she might fly into a rage at any second.

Which would be fine. Olivia would rather take her chances in a one-on-one fight than be trapped in this G.o.d-awful, foul-smelling cage.

"This isn't isn't about the Twenty-one, you idiot! Not tonight. This is about you," she said, then looked into the camera. "And you, RJ. This-" She swept her arm in a gesture that indicated the hold with its cage. "This is the final act. It ends tonight. All the charades, all the pretending, all the years of waiting. All the time of being alone." Her voice quivered a bit: "It's finally going to be over. And do you know how?" She gloated into the camera. "Well, let me tell you." Her smile widened. "I'm going to sink this boat. Tonight." about the Twenty-one, you idiot! Not tonight. This is about you," she said, then looked into the camera. "And you, RJ. This-" She swept her arm in a gesture that indicated the hold with its cage. "This is the final act. It ends tonight. All the charades, all the pretending, all the years of waiting. All the time of being alone." Her voice quivered a bit: "It's finally going to be over. And do you know how?" She gloated into the camera. "Well, let me tell you." Her smile widened. "I'm going to sink this boat. Tonight."

"What?" Olivia gasped. A new terror crushed the breath in her lungs. Oh, dear G.o.d, she couldn't be serious. But she knew in her heart that this woman, this killer with her vendetta against Bentz, was just demented enough to pull it off. "No," she whispered, her insides turning to water. "Please, please, no."

"Oh, yeah, I think so. The Merry Anne Merry Anne is sailing for the last time. With you on it." Turning to face the tripod again, she added to Bentz, "I'm going to make sure this boat sinks slowly, and the camera will be trained on your wife, so that you can watch as the hold slowly but surely fills, water inching upward. Olivia, she'll be cold at first, s.h.i.+vering and knowing that there is no escape, but she'll try to find a way out, be desperate to save herself. You'll see her panic and scream and cry, see each detail of her torturous, pathetic struggle as she gasps and chokes for air, treads water, forcing her lips and nose above the rising water, as she takes her last, dying breath and accepts her fate. You'll witness the terror in her eyes, Bentz, and know that her fate was in your hands." is sailing for the last time. With you on it." Turning to face the tripod again, she added to Bentz, "I'm going to make sure this boat sinks slowly, and the camera will be trained on your wife, so that you can watch as the hold slowly but surely fills, water inching upward. Olivia, she'll be cold at first, s.h.i.+vering and knowing that there is no escape, but she'll try to find a way out, be desperate to save herself. You'll see her panic and scream and cry, see each detail of her torturous, pathetic struggle as she gasps and chokes for air, treads water, forcing her lips and nose above the rising water, as she takes her last, dying breath and accepts her fate. You'll witness the terror in her eyes, Bentz, and know that her fate was in your hands."

"No! Oh, please." Olivia was frantic. She had to stop this woman. "You can't do this," she said without thinking. "I'm...I'm pregnant." Surely this sicko wouldn't knowingly take the life of an unborn child.

"Impossible." But she was shaken. "Bentz is sterile."

"I'm not kidding! I'm going to have a baby! Another innocent life. You don't want to be responsible for something like that." It took all of Olivia's strength to steel herself and not reveal that she was crumbling inside. "You don't want to be a serial killer, right? A lunatic like the Twenty-one killer. You said that yourself. You're different!" She was trying to find any way to reason with the killer.

"A baby?" she said, almost to herself, disbelieving. "Bentz's? No...but..."

"It's true!" Maybe she was making headway, appealing to this woman's warped sense of values. "Please, really, you don't want to hurt an unborn child."

Still blindsided, the woman narrowed her eyes on Olivia. "What a sick, pathetic lie. You are not pregnant!"

Olivia moved closer. "I am. I'm going to have a baby!"

Her captor waved wildly in the air to dismiss the thought, but her equilibrium was shaken, her voice tinged with a new anger. "It doesn't matter anyway. Even if by some miracle you are with child, well, all the better. Bentz can watch you and the baby die, all in living color. Hear that, 'RJ'? Her death, and this fict.i.tious baby's, will be on tape and you can relieve her agony and fear and desperation over and over again. This is just so perfect. Worth every minute of the d.a.m.ned wait."

"No! Listen, I don't know who you are or why you're doing this, but please, don't," Olivia said, screaming inside, but trying to keep her voice level. She saw that pleading for her life only fed into this maniac's ego; she had to try a different tack, a diversion. "Tell me what your problem is with Bentz. Maybe I can talk to him-"

"Talk to him? Haven't you been listening to me?" The woman clapped her hands over her ears, as if she needed to hold on so her head would not burst. "Don't you get it?"

Olivia sensed that her captor was at a meltdown point, but she re fused to cower. She kept her gaze trained on her would-be killer. "Don't do this," she said evenly. "Please. Don't-"

"Enough!" Her round eyes blazed with renewed fury. "You can blabber and beg all you want, but I'm not falling for it. Got that? It's over. You're going to die, 'Livvie,' and you're going to die tonight."

Jaw set, seething, but in control again, she double-checked the camera, then hurried up the stairs.

This time, she left the lights on.

Now the camera caught Olivia's every move.

Staying perfectly still she heard noises above and then the sound of a big engine roaring to life. The floor below her s.h.i.+fted as the boat began to move.

"Oh G.o.d," she whispered, spurred into motion. She paced the perimeter of the cage, checking and rechecking each bar, knowing they were st.u.r.dy. Immoveable.

No way out.

Her blood congealed as she considered her fate: Doomed to die at the hands of this twisted, deranged maniac, her baby never having a chance at life.

Olivia's throat grew thick with regret.

She would drown on camera.

Her death recorded for posterity.

To be used to torture Rick Bentz for the rest of his life.

She knew it.

The maniac knew it.

And soon, unless some miracle occurred, it would be over.

Then Bentz would know it, too.

CHAPTER 38.

Bentz drove back to the So-Cal wired on caffeine, adrenaline, and just plain lack of sleep. And overriding all that sick energy was fear for Olivia. He was scared to death. The minutes were ticking by and he knew nothing more than he had earlier tonight.

Fernando Valdez had stonewalled them.

Bentz had stood on the other side of the gla.s.s ready to tear his hair out as the kid was interrogated for three hours. Hayes and Martinez went after him with questions peppered with some indication of the trouble he might be in, but Fernando responded by slouching in the chair, folding his arms, closing up.

"Who was this woman you loaned your sister's car to? The silver Impala?" Martinez asked.

"Just...someone I know. A girl at school."

"You got a name?"

"Jada. I don't know her last name."

That sent Bentz flying into the squad room, asking Bledsoe-who, unfortunately, was the only detective available-to run a search on a female, first name Jada, with a criminal record. Back in the interrogation room, Martinez was playing the good cop.

"Nice of you to help her out when she's low on cash and everything," she said. "Sounds like you're a good friend. But did you know that Jada has been linked to several murders?"

Unbroken, sullenly Fernando shook his head.

"Did you help her kill some of those people?" Martinez asked. Her dark eyes softened. "Maybe you didn't realize it. Maybe you just gave her a ride somewhere, not knowing what she was doing." She shrugged. "As far as you know, you're just helping out a friend."

"I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't kill anyone."

Finally a response.

"Come on, Fernando," Hayes nudged. "We've got your fingerprints now." The kid had tightened up earlier when Hayes printed him. "I'm sure they'll match up with prints found in the Impala. Maybe even with prints found at some of the crime scenes."

"No! I swear." Fernando turned his body away from them, refolding his arms across his chest. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"No one is saying you did, Fernando," Martinez said in a soothing voice. "Your sister, your professors...everyone says you're a good kid. That's why I was thinking you might help us. We need help finding someone. A woman named Olivia Bentz. Blond hair, dark eyes. Did you ever meet her, Fernando?"

Bentz had watched through the one-way mirror and felt his life unraveling while the kid shook his head no.

"Olivia Bentz is missing," Hayes said, "and we have reason to believe your friend Jada is involved in her kidnapping. What can you tell us about that?"

"Nothing!" Valdez insisted.

Frustrated, Bentz had wanted to smash his fist through the gla.s.s and curl his fingers around the kid's throat to shake the truth from him. Since Fernando hadn't lawyered up, the detectives continued questioning him, and Bentz stayed for every second of the tedious process.

Bledsoe checked on the name Jada, but hadn't found any females with that name who had been booked in the past eighteen months. Another dead end. Bledsoe would get Jada's photo ID and records from the college in the morning, but he couldn't work on that until the college's administrative offices opened.

Finally Bentz left the surly youth to Hayes and the FBI, who would probably release him, then have someone follow him. There was nothing more he could do at the Center.

As he drove he thought about the photos the LAPD lab had been working on. The pictures of the runner from the Santa Monica web cam looked enough like the same jogger who had been caught on the security cameras of the motel. Something about the runner seemed familiar to Bentz, as if he should be able to visualize her face.

A woman? Yeah, they were all pretty sure about that. The police were checking traffic cameras and parking tickets issued in the area around the motel at the time of the letter's delivery, along with the pier where Jennifer had jumped into Santa Monica Bay and the security cameras near the place where Sherry Petrocelli's car had been torched, but Bentz didn't hold out much hope. This person who had killed so easily seemed to know how to avoid detection.

A master criminal?

A cop?

He drove by instinct, his hands on the wheel, beams of headlights was.h.i.+ng over him as his mind spun.

It's someone with a personal grudge.

Someone who's enjoying this.

Jada, the girl who looks so much like Jennifer, she has the answers. And Fernando won't give her up. And Fernando won't give her up.

And right now Olivia was locked behind bars, a prisoner, because no one could find a shred of a clue that led to her captor. Bentz felt his life unraveling, everything that he believed in falling away, the woman who had turned his life around, made him a better man, now suffering because of his actions.

He saw his exit and rolled off the freeway, picking his way through traffic. He wondered if he'd find another disturbing, dark photo of his wife waiting for him back at his dive of a motel.

"Just keep her alive," he said to the car's interior. The dash lights glowed on his face as he glanced in the rearview mirror and caught his reflection. The man staring back at him looked older than he remembered. Haunted. By the ghost of a dead woman.

He pulled into his parking spot, yanked the keys from the engine, and looked in the mirror again.

This time, he saw past his own face to a person behind his car, standing on the far side of the parking lot.

Jennifer!

No way. She wouldn't appear now. He swung around to look.

She was gone.

Shaking inside, he slid out of the car and stood next to it, hearing the ticking of the rental's engine as it cooled and the night closed in.