A Silent Terror & A Silent Fury: A Silent Terror / A Silent Fury

“Yeah,” Ethan growled, “so where were you a week and a half ago on Tuesday, around ten in the morning?”

Curt’s eyes shot wide and he stammered, “Um…uh…I… was at a conference…in…in New York.”

Marianna elbowed her protector. “All right, Ethan, that’s enough. Curt didn’t kill Suzanne.”

“What about breaking into your house?”

Curt looked ready for the ground beneath his feet to swallow him. “Look, I didn’t kill anyone, and I certainly didn’t break into Marianna’s house. I don’t have any reason to.”

Marianna took Ethan’s arm. “Come on. Walk with me to my mother’s car. She’s probably waiting on me.”

Ethan gave a final, hard look at Curt and said, “My pleasure.”

“Goodbye, Curt.”

Marianna and Ethan headed in the direction she led. He asked, “Why’d you tell him bye?”

She blew out an exasperated breath. “I don’t know. Because it was the polite thing to do?”

“When a man lays a hand on you like he did, the last thing he deserves is politeness. How’s your arm?”

It hurt. “It’s fine. Forget him and tell me why you’re here.”

Ethan spotted her parents and brother standing beside a white Suburban. “Why don’t you have lunch with me and tell your folks I’ll bring you home later?”

Nerves suddenly swirled in her stomach. What kind of lunch was he talking about? A date lunch? Or a business, let’s-talk-about-the-case lunch? She bit her lip and he gave her a knowing smile.

“Please?”

She couldn’t resist. “Okay.” Catching her father’s attention, she signed that she was going with Ethan and would be home later. He frowned but nodded.

Ethan took her hand and led her to his car.

That’s when she noticed the silver car parked four spots down. Earlier, when it had turned in behind her and her sister, she’d tried to get a look at the driver, but it had gone on past them and around the side of the building. She’d given up trying to figure out if someone was following her and if the occupants of the car had been members of the church arriving at the same time as she.

Seeing the car still parked there, and her sister long gone, along with her parents, she decided she was definitely being paranoid—not that she didn’t have good reason to be, but obviously the silver car belonged to a member of the congregation. Relief replaced her momentary anxiety.

Ethan tapped her shoulder to get her attention. “So, what are you in the mood for?” His touch lingered, causing her stomach to do a series of flip-flops.

Pushing her attraction aside for now, she thought. “Something…relaxing.”

“Huh?”

“You know, relaxing food. Fruit, ice cream, soup.”

“I never knew food could be relaxing.”

Marianna reached up and took his hand in hers, feeling the calluses of a man used to hard work, yet one who used his hands for gentle comport, too. Somehow, Marianna knew Ethan would never raise a fist against her—ever.

“Well, you’re about to learn something new. How about we go to Panera?”

“The one on East Main?”

She laughed. “Yes, since it’s the only one in Spartanburg.”

“Right.” He pulled his hand from her grasp and cranked the car to head across town. Once there, Ethan ordered while she got a table. From her seat, she watched him smile at the young girl who flirted outrageously with him while punching in the order.

Marianna was impressed that while Ethan smiled in a friendly way, there was nothing encouraging or flirtatious about him. Curt would have…nope, not going there.

Soon, Ethan brought their food to the table, and Marianna enjoyed her salad while he sampled the soup.

After a few minutes, Marianna placed her fork on the table and looked at her companion. “So, let’s get to the point. You have something else you want to discuss with me, don’t you?”

Startled bemusement flickered briefly, then, turning serious, he said, “I don’t think you’re safe staying at your house.”

“I’ve already thought about that.”

“And?”

Marianna sat back, munching the last bite of salad. She swallowed, took a sip of water, then said, “I hate to admit it, but you’re probably right. I don’t want to, but I guess I’ll be staying at my parents’ longer than I thought.”

“What’s your hesitation?”

“I’ve fought so hard to be…” Did she really want to share this with him? A man she’d known for only a little over a week and met under extreme circumstances? Yet, there was something about him that pulled her, drew her to him.

He finished the sentence for her. “…independent?”

She nodded, guilt hitting her hard. Her family was so wonderful, yet they had a way of being a little smothering sometimes.

“They just want to make sure nothing happens to you.”

Marianna straightened, agitation making her words sharp. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need someone watching to make sure nothing happens to me.”

Something flashed in his eyes. Hurt, anger, grief? She couldn’t place the emotion she saw but wondered at the cause.

Abruptly, he said, “Okay, so this guy that broke in. His shoe print is different than the one we found from the murder.”

Marianna blinked but allowed the topic shift. “Does that mean it was two different people?”

“No, not necessarily. He could have just worn a different pair of shoes this time. We did rule out Suzanne’s ex-boyfriend, Bryson James. He had an alibi, plus his shoe size is about a size and a half too small for the print we found. That’s too much of a difference to suspect him.”

“What about the two prints from the different incidents. Are they the same size?” Marianna wondered.

“No, but there’s only about a half size difference. Which, again, doesn’t mean much. Some people buy their shoes according to fit and feel, not size. But the difference is small enough that we can’t rule out it’s the same person.”

“So, basically, we know nothing.”

“That’s it in a nutshell.”

“And there wasn’t any DNA or anything found either time?”

“Still waiting on that. And you can’t think of anything you might have that this guy could be after?”

Marianna threw her hands up. “No. I can’t think of a thing.”

“Well, my guess is that he didn’t get whatever he was looking for Friday night.”

She looked up at him, fear flowing freely. “So, I guess that means he’ll be back, huh?”

SIX

Monday morning Marianna hurried to school, anxious for the day to be over so she could see Twister. She’d missed his comforting presence. Joseph had volunteered to pick up the dog for her and have him waiting at her parents’ house since she had basketball practice this evening. Twister would greet her when she walked in the door later tonight.

After she and Ethan had finished eating the day before, he’d driven her home to retrieve some of her things and taken her to her parents’ house. Her mom welcomed Marianna like a long-lost child even though she had just spent Saturday night there, while her father’s furrowed gray brows told her he worried silently.

In the classroom she flipped on the television so the kids could watch the morning news. It was filled with mostly political happenings owing to the upcoming election, and her students found it fascinating to be informed of the latest in the process. Oh, they didn’t understand it in detail, but they knew it was a big deal and therefore wanted to be involved. Marianna was happy to oblige. She and the other teachers had even arranged to have a mock election day for the entire school, with several voting booths loaned to the school by the local voter’s registration office. The workers had agreed to volunteer and run the day like a normal voting day, even having the students register to vote just like any other citizen. The only difference was no one had to meet the age requirement. Everyone was really excited about it, even the staff members.

Josh entered the room and handed over another computer part. Marianna went to her desk, pulled open the drawer and realized she’d left his box in the other teacher’s classroom. Making a mental note to get it later, she dropped the part into the drawer and said, “Thanks, Josh.”

“Welcome,” he signed. Then looked at the television. His eyes went wide and he signed, “Daddy!”

“What?” Marianna glanced up at the screen and noticed a well-dressed man in his mid-forties speaking to the reporter to his right.

Josh jumped up and down, causing the room to shake, his large frame causing the effects of a small earthquake. Books tumbled from the shelves, and the desks danced across the floor. Marianna went to him and laid a hand on his arm. “Josh, calm down.” Josh stopped but didn’t take his eyes from the television.

“Daddy,” he signed again.

Sure enough, that was his father. Marianna had met the man only once at the beginning of the year. The campaign manager for one of the gubernatorial candidates, he would be campaigning from Charleston this week, only about three hours away. Marianna wondered if the man would try to make it down to visit Josh before heading off to the next city on the list. Hmm, probably not or she would have been notified by now. Closed captions played at the bottom, displaying the conversation taking place between the reporter and Josh’s father.

No wonder Josh lived with his grandparents. His father was a busy man, and his mother had died a few years ago.

“…overhead transparencies?”

The question came from the door, catching Marianna’s attention with the noise. Misty Williams, late twenties, tall, red hair, green eyes. And a teacher with an attitude. Why the woman had taken a dislike for Marianna was beyond her.

“I’m sorry?”

Misty rolled her eyes, then stomped into the room to pull open a file cabinet.

Marianna felt her jaw drop but swallowed her desire to snap the woman’s head off. As if she didn’t have enough stress in her life right now without adding Misty’s nastiness to it.

“Excuse me.” Marianna stepped forward and placed a hand on the drawer. The woman’s gall was unbelievable.

Misty stopped her search. “Transparencies. Jean said you have some.”

Marianna sighed. Perhaps if she kept her cool, one day Misty would reveal why she disliked Marianna so much. “Sure, Misty, how many do you need?”

“Four or five should be fine.”

Handing them over, she tried to see beyond the anger— and saw nothing but the raw emotion directed solely at her. She shivered. Why did the woman display such malice toward her?

Misty snatched them and left without a word of thanks.

Shaking her head, Marianna welcomed the rest of her class as they filed in. Her assistant hurried through the door and tossed her lunch bag on her desk. “Sorry I’m late—my car wouldn’t start this morning, so I had to catch the bus.”

“No problem, I’m just glad you made it.” She placed a hand on the woman’s arm, glanced around to see that the students’ attention was on the news and asked, “Dawn, do you know why Misty is so hateful to me?”

Dawn’s eyes went wide, then her lips thinned. “No, but I’ve noticed her attitude toward you.”

“She seemed friendly enough initially, after she first started working here a couple of months ago, but something definitely happened to put her off of me, that’s for sure.”

“I don’t know, but I’ll keep my eyes and ears open for you.”

“Maybe I should just ask her.”

Dawn shrugged. “I guess you could. Or maybe it’s just a phase and she’s having a couple of bad weeks. Who knows?”

“Maybe.”

And then there was no more time to worry about the situation. Soon, Marianna found herself caught up in the business of teaching and the endless stack of paperwork that went with it.

Before she knew it, the day had passed and the final bell had rung. Basketball practice wasn’t until after supper, so Marianna stayed late working on papers. Around five o’clock, she pulled a frozen dinner from her dorm-sized refrigerator and walked toward the teacher’s lounge to zap it in the microwave.

As she stepped from her well-lit classroom into the dark hall, she noticed how empty the building was.

Empty and spooky.

She didn’t need her imagination to fill in what could happen to a lone female in a deserted building. She paused, trying to decide whether to keep going or turn around, grab her purse and get out. Which was silly, because she’d done this routine of staying late ever since basketball season started. Only now, with Suzanne’s death and the break-in…

Adrenaline kicked in as she relived the terror of seeing Suzanne lying lifeless on the floor, of being alone in her house, grief stricken and weary, then terrorized once again when the intruder climbed through her bedroom window.

Returning to the scene of the crime.

Fear seized her, cramped her stomach as a terrifying idea flashed through her mind.

What if Suzanne was not only in the wrong place at the wrong time, but also was the wrong person?

What if the killer originally thought Suzanne was Marianna, learned of his mistake, and Friday night was his idea of trying to finish the job?

* * *

Ethan sat at his desk, flipping through the case files, his mind about as alert as mush. He couldn’t keep his thoughts focused as he worried about Marianna. For some reason he couldn’t convince himself that this last break-in was unrelated to Suzanne’s murder.

He glanced at the clock. Almost five thirty. Catelyn had left forty-five minutes ago to meet up with Marianna’s sister Alissa.

Marianna had basketball practice with her team at six, but no doubt she would head over to the gym early to make sure everything was ready. Tapping his pen against his chin, he thought. Should he go over just to check on her? What if something happened to her while he sat here worrying about her?

She’s a big girl, O’Hara—she doesn’t need you checking up on her.

But his mind kept playing the “what if” game. What if there was something behind her and she didn’t hear it? What if someone tried to warn her of the danger coming and…

Stop it!

Although…what would it hurt? Just run by, say hey, and then head home. To his empty apartment. Where he would grill chicken for one. Fix one glass of iced tea. Set one place at the table. Growing up, he and Ashley had shared thousands of meals together, just the two of them, while their parents traveled the world, jet-setting with their country club friends.

Ah, Ashley, sweet sister, even after almost three years, I still miss you terribly at times.

He let his gaze slide to the picture on his desk, the last one he’d taken of Ashley. She had her long dark hair pulled up into a messy ponytail, had on sweats and a ball cap. Her grin pierced him as he remembered the last time he’d seen her, tried to warn her about the car speeding toward her.

She hadn’t heard him. Instead she’d hurried toward him, stepping into the path of the vehicle. And he’d been unable to do anything about it. To stop it. His fault…

Ethan slapped the picture facedown, stood and gathered his leather jacket. He’d just go by the school and see Marianna, make sure she was all right. But he sure wouldn’t tell her that was his reason for stopping by. She was certainly little Miss Independent.

And she was probably fine, but what could it hurt? Just to see. To reassure himself.

* * *

Marianna hurried up the walkway to the dark gym. Puzzlement made her frown. Where were the lights? Her assistant coaches and student helpers?

Granted, the players wouldn’t show up for another fifteen, twenty minutes, but everyone else should be here by now. Reaching the heavy glass doors, she saw a sign:

* * *

Basketball practice has been canceled.

* * *

“What?” She hadn’t canceled practice! Well, that explained why no one was here. Had someone decided to play a practical joke on her? It was too early in the year for an April Fool’s Day prank. They’d gotten her good last year: every one of her starting players had texted her claiming to be sick and unable to attend the big play-off game. She still hadn’t come up with an appropriate retaliation.

She pulled on the door. Locked. Digging in her pocket for her key, she opened it and stepped inside.

Great, another dark hallway.

She slapped at the light switch on the wall. Nothing.

Weird.

Now she started to get that feeling in the pit of her stomach that told her something wasn’t right. The same feeling she’d had when she’d first seen her door standing wide open the day of Suzanne’s murder.

Invisible fingers tickled the nape of her neck.

She whirled.

“Who’s there?” Because someone was there. She couldn’t hear anyone, but she could feel the presence of someone. A dark, sinister feeling that shot adrenaline double-time through her body.

Not again, God!

Her breath came in short, whispered pants as she slipped behind a display board for the moment. She had to make a decision, but her brain felt as if someone had used the remote to put it on pause.

What to do?

Think, Marianna, think!

Her BlackBerry. She slapped her side…and felt nothing. She’d left it charging in her classroom.

Although the darkness pressed in, she wondered if she could use it to her advantage. She knew the layout of the building. Hopefully, whoever was in here with her didn’t.

With what she prayed were silent steps, she slowly moved her sneaker-clad feet toward the inner door of the gym. If she could get inside the storage room, she could lock herself in.

Tears threatened as her fear mounted. But she kept her cool and took another step. And another. The door to the court lay just beyond her. One more step and her fingers brushed the cool metal. She knew it would clang loudly as soon as she pushed it inward. She’d have to move fast once inside the door.

With another prayer and a deep breath, she gave it a shove and rushed in, spinning to the left. Pure darkness pushed against her eyes. Silence thundered in her ears, even as her hearing aids picked up heavy footsteps behind her.

Trailing her fingers along the wall, she moved as quickly as she dared.

Almost there.

If memory served her right, she needed to go only a few more feet after she passed the bleachers. Praying the room would be unlocked when she got there, she kept moving. The wall ran out, her shin hit the lowest bleacher and she flinched but ignored it.

Then she felt him, her, it.

Breathing on her neck. Smelling of stale cigarette smoke. She turned to flee.

Pain ripped through her scalp and down her neck as a rough hand gripped her ponytail in a vise.

She screamed, tears leaking down her cheeks.

“I’m deaf! I can’t hear you if you’re talking!”

The hand shoved against the back of her head, and she went down, cracking her cheek against the edge of the wooden seat.

Marianna screamed again.

SEVEN

Hand on the gym door, Ethan paused. Darkness greeted him. He frowned, his gut shouting at him that something was wrong.

Had she canceled practice? The sign on the door said she had. He grabbed the handle and pulled. Locked.

Unclipping his phone from his belt, he sent a text to Marianna’s BlackBerry. “Are you having practice tonight? I’m at the gym and no one’s here. You okay?”

Anxiety caused sweat to bead on his brow. Should he call for backup?

But backup for what, canceled basketball practice?

The comfortable weight of his gun rested snugly under his left arm. He reached up and loosened the strap but didn’t pull the weapon out…yet.

Retracing his steps, he climbed back into his car and drove around to the girls’ dormitory, located within sight of the gym.

Several stood outside talking, signing fast, using a word every now and then that Ethan didn’t understand. Must be slang he wasn’t up to date on.

When they spotted him, the conversation ceased. Ethan looked around for a dorm parent and spotted her talking to one of the girls near the door to the building.

The girl she was talking to pointed to him and the woman turned, frowning. “May I help you?” she signed.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but I was looking for Marianna Santino. I thought she had basketball practice right now, but there’s no one in the gym. Do you know where I can find her?”

One of the teens signed, “Basketball practice was canceled.”

Ethan signed back, “Did Ms. Santino say why?”

“No, just that it was canceled.”

That still didn’t sit right with Ethan. “You talked to her?”

The girl nodded. “On the TTY.” The telephone device used by the deaf to type messages back and forth. Just like texting, but the TTY used a landline, and the person could read the message as it was being typed out.

“And you’re sure it was Marianna?” he asked.

A shrug. “That’s what the person typed.”

Ethan touched the tips of his fingers to his mouth and brought his hand down, palm up. “Thank you.”

“Welcome.”

Walking back to his car, he checked his phone. No response to his text to Marianna. His gut tightened. Not necessarily alarming, but unusual. And in light of recent events…

Should he check her classroom or go back to the gym once more? Should he call campus security and see if they’d had any report of a disturbance?

He glanced at the gymnasium and thought he saw something move. Lights dotted the campus at night, lighting the walkways and streets, but there were still spots that remained dark, places someone could hide.

The movement caught his eye again, and he moved toward it, hand on the butt of his gun.

* * *

Marianna lay against the floor, not daring to move. Her fingers gripped the object her attacker had shoved into her hand before releasing her.

Slowly her senses returned, and she felt warm wetness flowing from the throbbing gash on her cheek, absentmindedly wondering if she’d need stitches.

Every muscle tense, she concentrated on the floor. About a minute earlier, she’d felt the person move away from her, fleeing feet pounding across the surface, the vibrations under her prone body growing fainter with each step.

Dare she pray it was over? How long should she stay there? Should she try to leave and get help?

A light flickered in front of her. The terror returned full force, and she scrunched down into a little ball, not wanting to move and take the chance on making noise that would draw attention to her.

The light passed over her. More running feet, headed in her direction. She scrambled to her feet, adrenaline flowing, anger surging. This time she’d fight back and with fists still knotted, tightly clenched. Ignoring the throbbing pain in her cheek, she tried to remember every self-defense move Joseph had taught her.

Then she was staring into Ethan O’Hara’s worried face as he turned the light on himself to show her who was there.

Her muscles wilted, pulling her back to the floor she’d just risen from, and she burst into tears.

* * *

Ethan had never felt such murderous rage as he did at that very moment. Not even toward the two teens who had drag raced in the high school parking lot, their irresponsible actions leading to his sister’s tragic death. Ashley’s death had been an unintentional act.

This, though, this attack on Marianna had premeditation written all over it. He sat on the floor beside the sobbing woman and gathered her into his arms. More beams of light entered through the door held open by the officers Ethan had called when he realized the lights in the gym didn’t work.

Campus security arrived and everyone began talking at once.

The young man in his mid-thirties who held the title of head of campus security, Kevin Manning, sat on his haunches, pushed his cap back on his head and asked, “She all right?”

Through gritted teeth, Ethan muttered, “Does she look all right?”

Kevin’s expression didn’t change although his eyes sharpened. He ignored Ethan’s question. “I’ll need her to tell us what happened just as soon as she gets it together.”