A Mew Beginning Read online

  “Alton Peyton,” I whispered to myself. I looked down at the cat. “Didn’t Finn say that John Reynolds full name was John Peyton-Reynolds? And wasn’t his son’s name Alton? I wonder if Alton simply dropped the Reynolds for some reason.”

  “Meow.”

  I glanced back toward the house, trying to put my thoughts in order. After the research we’d completed to date, we’d begun to suspect that John Peyton-Reynolds might have been the one who’d been kidnapping and killing women back in the nineties. The theorized kidnappings had stopped after he’d been shot, but they had started back up again this past January. Could it be that the son had taken up where the father left off?

  I’d turned to head back to the car when Mystique took off toward the boat docked nearby.

  “Mystique,” I called softly so as not to alert the resident of the house to my presence. “We need to wait for Finn in the car.”

  The cat paused to look back at me, but then turned around and continued toward the boat. I glanced back toward the window where I’d been watching the man. I could still see movement inside, so I assumed he was continuing to do whatever it was he was doing. Making a quick decision, I followed the cat, who stepped onto the dock and then jumped onto the boat before I could stop her. My mind was telling me to leave the cat and wait in the car, which I had intended to do when I heard a noise that sounded like someone trying to scream through a gag. I’d been the one trying to scream through a gag not all that long ago, so I recognized the sound. I looked back toward the house. It appeared the man was still inside. Making a quick and probably unwise choice, I followed the cat onto the boat.

  “Finn and Cody are both going to kill me,” I whispered to myself as I slowly and as quietly as I could, made my way below deck. The boat was a large one, featuring a galley area toward the front of the cabin area, and a separate room, which I assumed was a bedroom, in the back. I headed toward the back of the cabin, slowly pushing the door open. “Oh, my!” I gasped when I saw the woman tied to the bed. As I’d suspected, the woman had been gagged. She started to scream and fight the ropes as I approached. “It’s okay,” I said. “I’m here to help you.” I reached for the gag and was just inches away when everything suddenly went black.

  When I woke, I was tied to the bed alongside the woman, who was now unconscious. My hands were tied, so I couldn’t feel for a pulse, but based on her lack of movement, I suspected she was dead. I looked around for the cat, but she was nowhere in sight. Had she slipped away while the person who’d knocked me out and tied me up was busy with me?

  I took a deep breath in through my nose. I needed to keep my wits about me. If I panicked, I was done for. I knew that because of all the other times I’d found myself caught in a tricky situation. I could see that I was on the boat I’d seen tied up near the house occupied by Alton Peyton. Based on the sound of the engine and the gentle rocking of the boat, I could tell we were no longer docked but at sea.

  Well, that wasn’t good. Even if I figured out a way to free myself of my restraints, where was I going to go?

  I glanced at the woman tied up beside me again. She still hadn’t moved, but I did think I’d noticed her chest rise and fall. Maybe she wasn’t dead after all. Without being able to take a closer look, it was hard to tell.

  I took a moment to calm my mind once again. I needed to focus. I needed to get both the woman tied up next to me and myself out of this. I realized my hands were tied in front of me rather than behind. Rookie mistake, I decided. I was able to bring my bound hands up to my face and pull down the cloth gag. Not that screaming would help since there was no one to hear me other than the woman who was tied up next to me and the man who’d tied us up. Still, not having the gag in my mouth allowed me to breathe easier, so I pulled it down, allowing it to hang around my neck. I wanted to toss it across the room, but I figured if I needed to, I could pull it up and play dead.

  Once my gag was removed, I sat up and began to work on the rope around my ankles. When I’d been tied up at the newspaper, I’d been tied to a chair which had afforded me very little room to move around, but the kidnapper hadn’t been as careful this time, and the rope around my ankles really wasn’t all that tight. The rope around my wrists was going to be a problem, however, and even if I could work it loose, which I doubted, where was I going to go, or what could I do? The man I’d seen in the kitchen, the same man I assumed was piloting this boat, outweighed me by at least seventy-five pounds. Plus, I had to assume he’d brought the gun I’d seen on his kitchen table with him when he decided to take his victim and me out to sea.

  The rope, the weight, and the huge knife really only led me to one conclusion. He planned to kill and weight us and then drop us into the sea where no one would ever find us unless we were lucky enough to have a shark attack us as the woman in the nineties had which had allowed her body to float to the surface. At least her family knew what had become of her. Poor Cody would never know what had happened to me. At least not for sure.

  When I realized I was starting to hyperventilate, I knew I needed to stop. I wasn’t going to give up quite yet. My hands were still bound, and I had no weapon or means of escape, but at least my legs were free, and the gag was off. I sat quietly and looked around the room. It was small yet functional. A bed, a small closet, and a small cabinet I assumed was used to store clothing and personal supplies. I noticed a phone charger plugged into the wall, which made me wonder if I still had my phone. I reached around to feel for it but found my pocket empty.

  I could hear the man walking around upstairs. It sounded like there was just one person on board other than the woman and me. I supposed as long as I could hear the engine, I could assume he was up on the deck, which gave me a bit of leeway to come up with a plan. Maybe there was something down here I could use to contact someone. Perhaps a radio. I was about to get up off the bed when the engine died. My instinct was to run and hide; I was so traumatized that I didn’t realize there was nowhere to run. The woman on the bed moved her legs, which at least confirmed she was still alive. Maybe the man who was taking us out to sea had just cut the engine to check on us. Maybe we weren’t out of time. I realized my best bet was to pretend I’d never even come to, so I draped the rope around my ankles so it would appear they were still tied, pulled the gag into my mouth, then laid back down and closed my eyes. When I heard the man enter the room, it was nearly impossible not to thrash around, but I willed myself to stay completely still, and somehow I was able to do just that.

  I heard him moving around the room. My heart was pounding, and I was having a hard time keeping my breath steady. I thought he was going to leave, but just when I thought it was safe to open my eyes, I felt a weight on the bed. I knew I needed to lay still, but I couldn’t help myself. My eyes opened against my will, and I found myself staring into the dark brown eyes of the man I was sure planned to kill me.

  “Ah, I see you’re awake.”

  I didn’t answer or move. The gag was still in my mouth, and I didn’t want to give away the fact that my legs were free quite yet.

  “It’s a pity you didn’t mind your own business. You reporter types are always sticking your noses into things that don’t concern you.”

  The man stood up and began doing something behind me that I couldn’t see. I wondered if the other woman had regained consciousness as well. Even though I’d seen her legs move, if this was going to be our time to die, I found myself wishing she was already dead to save her from the terror and pain I predicted was ahead of us.

  “I should have hit you harder and been done with it that day you walked in on me at the newspaper. At the time, I chose to be merciful, but I can see that choice only led to problems down the line. I know you can hear me, so just so you know, I am going to finish things today the way I should have then.”

  At this point, I couldn’t help myself. I reached up and pulled down my gag. “Why? Why did you break into the newspaper? Why are you going to kill me? Why have you been killing women for the past
few months? Is it because of what your father did? Did you know about that?”

  I sat up and looked directly at him. I didn’t suppose acting dead was going to save me, so I might as well try to stall him. Maybe Finn had gotten my message and had figured out what had happened. Maybe Finn was on his way to rescue me, and I only needed to delay being plunged into the sea until he got here.

  “You really are forever the reporter, aren’t you? Here you are, about to die, and you spend your last minutes interviewing me rather than pleading with me for your life. The others pleaded with me, you know. I guess that’s why I chose them. They seemed the helpless sorts, but you, you’re different. I actually feel bad about what I am going to do to you.”

  “So appease my curiosity before you kill me,” I said. “Why did you break into the newspaper?”

  “I broke in to find Orson’s notes. He knew everything, but I imagine you’ve figured that out by now. He knew what my father had done, and he knew what my mother had done.”

  “Your father killed at least thirteen women in seventeen months. He’d pick them up in a bar along the Interstate, promise them a weekend on the islands, kill them, weight them, and dump them in the sea. I did figure that out. But your mother? What exactly did your mother do?”

  “She killed my father. Shot him in the head while he slept. I figured you’d realize that by now.”

  “Your mother shot your father? Why? I heard she had plans to leave him.”

  He began tying the rope he’d brought to a weight. “She did plan to leave him, but when she somehow figured out what my father was doing, she knew she could never be happy if he was still here on the island, killing women, so she killed him.”

  I frowned. “Why? Why didn’t she just call the sheriff and have him arrested? Why kill him?”

  He shrugged. “I think she was trying to protect me. She was concerned about how it might affect me to have to live with the knowledge that my father was a serial killer. She was afraid his legacy would haunt me for the rest of my life. So she killed the man, called the police and reported a break-in, and then acted the grieving widow role when she buried him. Once that was taken care of, she boarded up the house, packed us up, and moved three thousand miles away.”

  “But you figured it out?”

  “I did. When I shared the fact that I planned to move back to Madrona Island with her, she was overly upset by my decision. She reminded me over and over that my father had been murdered on this island and that moving back to the island would bring me nothing but nightmares and heartache. That caused me to wonder about the depth of her resistance, so I began to poke around in the details surrounding my father’s death.”

  “And you figured out what happened.”

  “It’s more that I remembered what happened. I guess with all the trauma, I’d forgotten, but once I began to really think about it, things began to come back to me.”

  “I heard you weren’t home when your father was shot.”

  “I wasn’t. My mother had arranged for me to spend the night at a friend’s house, but I was there when Orson came to the house to speak to my mom. I’d been hiding in the closet, playing a game, so they weren’t aware of my presence. Orson had figured out that it had been my father who was kidnapping and killing young women, and he suspected that she’d figured it out and killed the monster who’d taken over his husband’s body while he laid unconscious in a coma.”

  “So, your mother actually believed your father was possessed by a demon?”

  He picked up the knife and ran a finger along the blade. That almost caused me to scream, but I managed to swallow it down. I knew stalling was my only hope.

  “She did believe that. In her mind, it wasn’t the man she’d loved and married she killed, but the demon who’d stolen his life. Orson seemed to believe that as well, so by the end of the conversation, they agreed that she would take me and leave, and he would bury what he’d found.”

  I supposed that explained a lot. “So, why did you decide to pick up where your father left off?”

  He held the knife to my throat as if measuring it to make sure it would suffice. I gasped but was able to hold back the scream.

  “Why?” I asked again.

  He took a step back. “I guess maybe this demon is the sort to be passed along the bloodline. I’m not sure how it works, but once I’d gotten over the hurt and devastation of my wife leaving me for my best friend, the anger set in. I didn’t set out to become a serial killer, but in the end, that’s what happened. It was all quite by accident.”

  “Accident? How do you accidentally go to Seattle, kidnap a woman, bring her back here, kill her, and dump her in the sea?”

  “I didn’t set out with that course of action in mind. It was around Christmas time. I’d been drinking a lot, and the bartenders at the local bars were getting tired of the bar fights I’d been starting, so they’d banned together and stopped serving me. I decided that a change of scenery would be nice, so I took the ferry and ended up in Seattle. I met a woman at a bar, and she seemed interested in the fact that I lived on Madrona Island. I found myself inviting her back to the house, figuring I could lose myself in this woman until the pain of the holiday passed, but by the time I was done with her, I realized I still wasn’t satisfied, so I slit her throat. Talk about a rush. I’d really never felt anything quite as wonderful as I felt watching the life drain from this woman. I remembered what I’d learned from my father, so I weighted and dumped the body in the sea.” He smiled as if remembering a fond memory. “She was my first. I’ve had others since, but she’ll always hold a special place in my heart.”

  “You really are sick.”

  He grinned. “Yes, I guess I am.” He walked around the bed and picked up the woman next to me. She started to struggle. When he grabbed the knife, I was certain he was going to slit her throat, which caused me to lunge toward him, effectively giving away any advantage I might have had by him not knowing my legs were free. I rammed into him with the full weight of my body, which caused him to drop the woman at his feet. He turned, reached into his bag, and pulled out a gun. He aimed it directly at my head. “You are a tricky one, aren’t you?”

  “You won’t get away with this. Finn is onto you. It’s only a matter of time until he proves what you are up to.”

  “I realize that. I guess I’ll need to head south once I dump the two of you. Mexico is lovely this time of the year.”

  He lifted the gun and started to pull the trigger when Mystique seemed to fall from the sky, landing on his head. I guess she might have been up in the overhead storage area. The man jerked to dislodge her, and the gun went off, but the bullet missed me and hit the wall behind me. Alton grabbed for the cat, who was scratching at his eyes and face, dropping the gun as he did so. I scooted forward and grabbed the weapon. My wrists were still tied, but my legs were free, so I was able to stand up. It took what seemed like a long time for him to get the cat off him, but it was probably only seconds. It was long enough, however, for me to gain the advantage.

  “Don’t move,” I said, pointing the gun at his chest.

  He looked crazed with rage as he lunged toward me. I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger.

  Chapter 17

  Sunday, April 12

  As I sat with my large extended family, watching the kids in the choir sing their hearts out on Easter Sunday, I found myself thanking God that both myself and the woman who’d been tied up next to me had lived to spend this special day with those we loved. The shot I’d managed to get off had injured but not killed Alton Peyton. After he’d fallen to the floor, I’d been able to grab his phone and call Finn who’d received my earlier message and was already out on the water looking for me.

  Alton was in custody, awaiting trial on multiple murder charges. He’d been offered some sort of deal in exchange for a confession detailing everything he knew about his father’s murders as well as his own. He was going to spend his life behind bars, there was no question about that, but I guess
in exchange for his cooperation, he was to be afforded certain luxuries like cigarettes and additional yard time.

  He also shared with Finn the details, as he knew of them, of his mother’s involvement in his father’s death. Finn passed that information along to the FBI, who did some digging and found out that Alton’s mother had passed away a little over six months ago.

  “The kids did such a good job,” Siobhan said to me after mass. “That last song brought tears to my eyes.”

  “They did get it just right,” I agreed. “I have to admit I was somewhat worried given the complexity of the number, but they really came through.”

  “They really did. Finn and I are going to head back to the house since I have a few things to do before everyone arrives for dinner.” She hugged me. “I just wanted to say again how happy I am that you are here with us this Easter.”

  “I’m happy about that as well,” I smiled.

  Siobhan turned to leave, and then she turned back around. “Are you doing okay? Emotionally, I mean. What you went through had to have been traumatic.”

  “I’m fine. Really. Now go home and do what you need to do. Cody and I will be by with Mr. Parsons in an hour or so.”

  She hugged me again. “Okay. See you in a bit.”

  When we arrived home, Mr. Parsons was dressed in his Sunday clothes and ready to go. Mystique, who seemed to have settled in with Mr. Parson and showed no signs of leaving us anytime soon, was curled up in the parlor with both dogs. I’d decided to leave the animals here at the house since so many people had ended up being invited, but I figured if the party went on too long, Cody and I could take a break to see to the dogs.