CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The Head of the Headless Horseman

Crap was a tame description for the young man who came through the break room door. Charles hardly resembled the nineteen-year-old boy I had met in Scotland. I had not liked him, but that was mostly because of the forced comparison to Christian and the request to enter into a romantic relationship. Even so, he had been healthy. That was over. Standing in the break room, his skin looked gray and his eyes had no shine. His hair practically stood up on end, the way a boy's hair does when it has a lot of product in it and it hasn’t been washed lately.

The guys called him Chuck, so I followed their lead. I introduced myself and he raided the refrigerator while the other two went out into the snow.

At first, the only thing I could think about was what had happened after he saw Christian and I kiss in the conservatory. He had been talking to Brandon on the lawn, one thing led to another, and then he joined a group of crazy scientists who cut off Brandon's head? I felt sick. What happened between those two events? Rogan told me if these guys recognized me they would say anything to get me to join them. I bet that was what happened to Charles, and he had given them Brandon, who was easier to capture than Christian.

He disgusted me.

“So, you’re from Edmonton?” he suddenly asked, turning toward me.

“Yep.”

“Are you going to university there?”

“No,” I lied. “Why? Are you planning on going there for school this fall?”

He scratched his eyebrow and frowned. “That’s what I should do.” After that less than revealing statement, he fell into silence.

I had to keep him talking. “Your accent is adorable. What part of Britain are you from?”

“The north. It doesn’t matter. I’m boring.”

“There’s not even a TV in here. Come on. It’s more boring not to say anything. Why do you want to go to UofA? Do you want to become a vet?”

He did a double-take. “Why would you assume I want to become a vet?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. Everyone I talk to is trying to get into the veterinarian program. Why? What do you want to take?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Then why do you want to go?” I persisted.

“There’s a girl I want to meet.”

My throat felt choked up like I had strep, but I still had to act cool. “Oooh! A love interest! Tell me all about her.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m bored and I’m a stranger. Your secret will be safe with me,” I said as I crossed my heart with my finger.

“She’s a girl I met a couple of summers ago in Scotland.”

I feared that was coming. “I’ll bet she had an adorable accent too,” I remarked.

He frowned. “She isn’t Scottish if that’s what you mean. She is Canadian and she’s going to UofA.”

“I guess she doesn’t know you like her,” I said sadly.

“She did know. She just didn’t fancy me. I’m sure she’d be shocked to find out that I still like her. What about you? Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

I flicked my hair, but it didn’t have the same effect on Charles as the other two. “I’m too busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Being crazy. Come on. Tell me more about your girl. Maybe I know her. What’s her name?”

“Bethany Coldwell.”

I nearly fell off my chair. No one called me Bethany. Most people assumed that my name was Elizabeth. Christian never called me Bethany, not even when he was trying to act like a proper guardian. The last person who called me Bethany was my father before he died.

“Do you know her?”

I shook my head negatively. “Afraid not.”

“It was a long shot.”

“So why did you like her so much?”

He scratched his head. “It’s hard to talk about why you like someone, isn’t it?”

I snickered. “No, it isn’t. Not to talk down to you, but I’ve been in love before. It isn’t complicated at all.”

“No?”

“Nope. The man I loved made me into a nutcase.”

“Is that why you’re crazy?”

“Happy crazy. Do you know why I loved him? I loved him because I always felt like he had a surprise waiting for me. Even if he didn’t have something special to do, just having him around was enough to make live wires out of my nervous system. Every time our eyes met, I felt like I was rising off the ground. Did she make you feel like that?”

“No. She made me feel young and dumb.”

“Harsh. Why do you like her again?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I can explain it.” It was quiet for a few seconds before he wound up for round two. “Let me ask you a question. If you had to choose between an older man who was practically your dad or a guy around your own age who liked you, which would you choose?”

“Both,” I said unhelpfully.

“What?”

“Calm down. If the one guy is practically my dad why should I have to give up my relationship with him to be with the other guy? Those two things don’t sound conflicting.”

“What if they were?”

“I’d need more information. It depends on so many things. How old is the dad guy? Is he over forty? Is he under thirty-five? What does he look like? How much money does he make? Is he free with his money? Then I have a ton of questions about the young guy. What kind of a guy is he? Is he muscular?”

For a second Charles didn’t realize I expected him to answer me. He perked up. “About average.”

“Is he intelligent? Does he go to Oxford or Yale?”

“No.”

“Does he have a good job?”

“No.”

“Is he a rebel without a cause full of angst and energy?”

“Not so much.”

“Is he so ridiculously handsome that he can scarcely step out in public without being walloped by adoring females?”

“Hardly.”

“You’ve got no case for the young guy. He sounds like he thinks she should like him merely because he likes her, not because he's offering her anything.”

Charles looked more miserable than before. “What about you? What kind of man did you fall in love with?”

“The man I liked was far from normal. He was all the things I just listed and none of them. He may have been a genuine freak. He was charming in an old-time gentleman kind of way one minute—opening doors for me and helping me with my coat—and the next he was asking me to hold a syringe full of apple juice.”

“He sounds creepy. You’re not still with him, are you?”

“No,” I affirmed. “But I was in love with him.”

“It’s just a thing of the past now?”

I smiled. “It would be okay if I never saw his face again.”

***

If I had a stopwatch measuring how long I had been on the compound, by that point, it would have said two hours and forty-three minutes. I didn’t need a stopwatch. I was so tense I was counting it myself.

Skull Boy and Conroy had come back looking regretful.

“Couldn’t you open it?” I asked.

“Not without scratching the paint.” Skull Boy frowned.

“You scratched the paint?” I gasped.

“No,” he groaned. “I think we should just let it sit in the heated garage for an hour. The whole hood must be frozen.” That was what his mouth said, but he was stifling a smile. He was counting his lucky stars that I couldn’t leave yet.

“I’ll make some food for us,” Skull Boy invited.

“Sure.” I couldn’t go anywhere anyway.

“It’s a good day to take a break since the old men aren’t here.”

Charles looked glazed-over while the other guys washed up and got busy. One of them got a pizza and wings from a freezer. He popped them into the oven on different cookie sheets while the other one convinced Charles to do a beer run for them. It took me about a fifth of a second to see that whatever usefulness Charles had in the beginning, it hadn't made him an indispensable part of their group and now he was the local whipping boy.

He left and I took off my coat. I had been saving that for the right moment. My outfit underneath was gorgeous. I wore the super tight black pants Rogan bought me and a black shirt that was all horizontal in its lines. It exposed one shoulder completely, even though the neckline was intact. When my blonde hair fell on the black fabric, even I had to admit the effect was completely mesmerizing.

Without Skull Boy saying anything, I could tell he was regretting asking for cheap beer. He should have shelled out for something better. Conroy’s expression was less transparent. My guess was that he was nervous about me being there when I shouldn’t be.

He talked the whole time Charles was gone. I listened, smiled and laughed exactly the way I was supposed to, tilting my head and making eyes at whoever did the talking. It didn’t take much of my concentration. I was actually going over the plan Rogan had outlined for me.

At a break in the conversation, I started doing what I was supposed to do. “Is there anybody else around? If we’re having food, we ought to share.”

“You are so classy,” Skull Boy complimented. “It’s only us today and tomorrow. After we eat, we’ll go back out to the garage and see if we can open the hood.”

The food finished cooking before Charles came back, so we started eating without him. He didn’t care. He obviously lived in hell and that day was no break for him. I didn’t worry about it. He could nail his own coffin shut for all I cared.

After pizza, I put on my coat at exactly the same moment Skull Boy was taking a clumsy sip from his beer and thanks to a little slip of my hand, he spilled it in a long streak down my snow-white coat.

“I’m sorry, Jill,” he said in alarm. “I’ve only had two of these. I’m not usually a cheap drunk.”

I scratched behind my ear like I was madly scraping for patience. “That’s okay. Can you show me where the bathroom is, so I can get cleaned up? I think I got some on my pants.” I had to make it seem natural. Like me slipping away from the group while they went to the garage was not suspicious.

Conroy told me how to get to the bathroom. “Okay,” he said, taking the lead. “Let’s go see if her car is unfrozen. Chuck, you come too. Maybe we need an extra set of hands.”

I slipped into the bathroom, turned on the light, and closed the door. Except I wasn’t inside. I was in the hallway. I ran past the bathroom to the end of the hall and down a flight of stairs. I knew where to go. Rogan had already shown me a map of the place and made me memorize it.

At the bottom of the stairs, there were three doors. I grabbed the handle of the first door and walked in. Inside, Rogan told me to look for a tiny fridge. I found it. There was a keypad attached to the door. He had given me three codes he hoped would open it.

“I know Dr. Hilliar,” Rogan had said. “His passwords have a theme. Unless I’m reading him completely wrong, it should be one of the first two number sets. I’ve got one more that’s a maybe, but if it doesn’t open on the first two—ditch it. I don’t want it locking you out on the third try. Try it again no sooner than twenty minutes later, at which time you can try the third number set.”

If that didn’t work, things were going to get messy. I’d have to find a way to take the whole fridge with me.

I typed in the first one: 66-12-19. My heart was up in my throat. Cat burgling was a terrible way to die. I was terrified one of the guys would come down and catch me any second.

The fridge opened. Rogan was a god! Inside was exactly as he said. There were two things in the fridge. One was a Tupperware container—Rogan's hand. The other was big and covered in bubble wrap—Brandon’s head.

I opened my huge designer bag, pulled out the balloon that had made it look full and put Brandon’s head inside. I thought I would throw up or faint, but I didn’t. I just dropped it and snatched up the other container. I closed the fridge and ditched the room.

I booted up the stairs and made it to the bathroom just in time for Conroy to find me holding onto the bathroom door.

“Did you get the beer out?” he asked, looking at my coat. Seeing all the beer stains still there and the red blush on my face, he continued, “Are you okay?”

My lower lip trembled. “I really liked this coat.”

“Can I have a go at it?” he asked. “I'm pretty good at getting out stains.”

I wanted to get out of that place as quickly as possible, but I also knew I needed to keep to the plan. Ignoring my instincts, I nodded. “Okay, but I don’t think there’s much point.” I took it off and handed it to him.

He looked at the stain. “Did you even get it wet?”

“You’re supposed to get it wet?” I asked, playing super dumb, and biting my lower lip.

“Yeah.” He smiled.

“But it’s goose down.”

“Geese get wet, too.” He opened the bathroom door and put my coat under the tap. He put liquid hand soap and water on it and the stain sort of washed out.

I acted relieved and took it from him. “I bet it will come clean if I have it dry cleaned. I’m not mad or anything.”

“Are you sure? You looked like you were going to cry a second ago.”

“I’m okay. You already made me feel so much better. Anyway, it’s just a coat. Which way to the garage?”

Without a bump in the road, Conroy took me to the massive garage. What was their building used for normally? I couldn’t see a purpose and I couldn’t ask.

I definitely couldn’t think of the trouble these boys would be in once my theft was discovered, even though I kept thinking about the balloon I left under the conference table.

Skull Boy had become considerably less cheerful when we met him and Charles in the garage. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I’ve tried everything I can think of. I think we really will have to call a tow truck.”

“Okay, but before we do that, I’d like to try starting it one more time. Can I have my keys back?”

He handed them over, but said, “I don’t think it will be of much use. We already tried it twice back on the road, and three times since we brought it in here.”

I got in and put my bag on the passenger side seat. Then I did exactly what Rogan told me to do. There was a button under the steering column that I should press if I could leave the scene of the crime easily. I pressed it and a half a minute later, the engine was purring. I giggled and rolled down the window.

“I guess I must have flooded it or something out on the highway. I was really upset. Maybe I was too hard on it.”

Surprisingly, Skull Boy looked even more miserable. “Yeah, I guess,” he muttered. Had he been hoping I would have to stay the night?

“Thanks so much for dinner and for towing the car back here. I feel like I ought to offer you some money for helping me, but would that be insulting?”

Skull Boy was about to answer when Conroy stuck his head in the way. “It wouldn’t be insulting at all. We could use the cash. Up north—you know how expensive everything is.”

“R-Right,” I stuttered. Only at that moment did I realize my wallet was in the same bag as the human head. Almost trembling, my blind hand reached for the purse.

Skull Boy saved me. He pushed Conroy aside. “He’s joking. You don’t owe us a thing. It was nice to have you around. Can I visit you the next time I’m in Edmonton?”

“Yeah,” I said with a smile. “That would be nice.” Then I gave him the cell phone number for the cell phone I was carrying. If I really did get away without a hitch, that phone would be in the garbage in under three hours.

Charles came over to say good-bye too while Conroy happily opened the garage doors.

“It was a pleasure meeting you,” the gray-faced redhead said stormily.

“Ditto,” I said before I waved to them and heartily put the car into gear.

Abruptly, Skull Boy bounded up to my door and asked breathlessly, “Do you even know where you’re going?”

I let out a breath. I thought he’d caught me.

***

I couldn’t believe it when I was back on the highway. I told them I was going back to Edmonton. I said I’d had enough adventure and I was ready for home, so they pointed me back toward the city and off I went.

Except, I didn’t go back to Edmonton. I drove directly to Hinton where I was going to meet Rogan. I sent him a text saying he was supposed to meet me. I’d done combination plan A with plan E. Plan A was to drive away in the Camaro. Plan E was to get them to spill something on me. There were a lot of plans. If only those boys had known it, Rogan had loaded me up with enough tranquilizers to make sure they were all comatose until next week.

In Hinton, I met Rogan at a gas station. I parked the Camaro next to the curb and met him by the pumps. I got into his car just as he finished filling the gas tank.

He got in, looked in my bag and said, “Thank you.”

Quickly, he pulled out onto the road.

“Just out of curiosity, where did you get the Camaro.”

He grinned. “I stole it.”

“Today?” I gasped.

“Yes. Today. The police will pick it up from there, and they’ll return it to the owner. No problem.”

“Except my fingerprints are in it.”

“Relax, they won’t dust it. The compound I used to keep the hood shut will melt in a day or two and the modifications I made to the starter will go unnoticed… probably. If the owner accidentally turns on the mechanism meant to stall the starter, the worst thing that will happen is that he’ll have to put in a new starter. It won’t be the end of the world.”

“And the CCTV on the gas station wall?” I pouted.

“Saw Rogan and Jill, and we are not either of those people. It’ll be fine.”

I breathed out a sigh. “You are a terrible human being.”

He chuckled. “Well, yes.”