Lisa Jackson's Bentz And Montoya Bundle Part 204

"Tell me. Everything," she insisted, and felt his hands touch her fingers.

He did. He explained that Althea Monroe, who had died of her wounds at the scene, had been in league with Dr. Preston, killing girls for their blood in an effort to keep Althea young and beautiful.

"Elizabeth of Bathory," Kristi said.

"Exactly." Jay told her that Dr. Preston was a fraud. He'd been DOA at the hospital, but his fingerprints had identified him as Scott Turnblad, a man with outstanding warrants in California, where the real Dr. Preston had resided before his death.

Dr. Grotto had been a part of their plan. He'd been involved up to his pointed eyeteeth, though he, still alive, insisted that what he'd done was for the greater good, that Preston had convinced him that he would help the troubled girls disappear and start new lives. In exchange, Grotto got to stage his weird production and play out his own sick vampire fantasies. His audience-the girls he played to-were just as bad as he was and under his spell, finding "new blood" and not caring that the unwilling partic.i.p.ants disappeared.

"You mean Trudie and Grace and Marnie?" she asked.

"And a couple of others, including the waitress who added a little something extra to your drink. They all were half in love with Dr. Grotto and got off on his fantasy."

"More Elizabeths in the making," she said, and he squeezed her fingers.

"More jail time in the making. They'll be up on charges, too."

"What about Father Mathias? And Georgia Clovis?"

"The Wagner heirs are apparently innocent, but Mathias is dead, probably killed by Vlad because he knew too much. We're not certain but it looks like Mathias might have turned troubled girls toward their deaths. Probably inadvertently. The conjecture is that he heard their troubles during confession or maybe counseling. He tried to help, gave them parts in the plays and allowed Dominic Grotto to 'guide' them, and I use the term 'guide' loosely. Even though Grotto might not have known about what ultimately happened to the girls, he was no saint. He probably had affairs with them."

She shuddered, thinking of the innocent victims.

"But the real maniac in all of this was Vlad, aka Dr. Preston aka Scott Turnblad. We're guessing that too many people knew too much. Lucretia took care of Grotto, but that left Father Mathias. Vlad couldn't let him escape."

"He was beyond sick. And Elizabeth."

"Althea. Yeah. She duped us all. Turns out her mother never even lived in New Orleans. She just wanted to spend more time being Elizabeth."

"Where does that come from?"

"She was a distant relative of the countess, I guess."

"And crazy."

"Certifiable. She got all caught up in trying not to age. We found her diaries. Besides being related to the Blood Countess, Althea was convinced she could turn back time, regain any lost youth by bathing in the blood of younger women."

"Nutso."

"Yeah, on top of that, she'd been married and the husband left her for a younger woman, just as her father left her mother twice for trophy wives."

"So what? It happens to a lot of women. They don't turn into homicidal maniacs."

"You said it yourself. 'Nutso.' Althea aka Elizabeth found her soul mate in Vlad. Their relationship started young. We've been digging into Turnblad's sordid past. His killing may have started young, with his own parents. And he got away with it."

"So he learned from a young age that he could."

Jay's lips twisted at the thought, the way they always did when he encountered a problem he couldn't understand. "Turns out he and Althea-"

"That would be the nouveau Elizabeth of Bathory?"

"You are are paying attention," he said with a wink. "We found out that they've known each other since they were kids." paying attention," he said with a wink. "We found out that they've known each other since they were kids."

"I can't imagine what kind of games they played."

He grimaced. "Don't even go there. Anyway, Detective Portia Laurent put two and two together and found Vlad, er, Preston's lair under an old hotel. Ariel's body was there, on ice, as was another woman, a stripper from New Orleans by the name of Karen Lee Williams, whose stage name was Bodiluscious."

"Does everyone have an aka?"

"At least one," Jay said with a smile, then explained to her about Mai Kwan and the FBI, and the camera in her apartment. It was Mai they'd chased that night because she hadn't wanted to reveal her true ident.i.ty.

Kristi absorbed this with disbelief. "I knew that Hiram was a first-cla.s.s creep, but Mai...FBI..." She shook her head and started to smile, but then saw Jay's taut expression. "What aren't you telling me?" she asked, her smile disappearing. When he didn't immediately respond, she urged, "Jay?"

"It's your dad."

Her heart froze.

"He's in a hospital in New Orleans. Back injury."

"Back injury?" she repeated slowly, remembering how many times she's seen his face turn from color to black and white.

"He's going to be okay."

"You're sure?" Dear G.o.d, no...she couldn't imagine life without her father. She held Jay's hand in a death grip.

"I think so." But he was hedging; she saw it in his amber eyes.

"d.a.m.n it, Jay, tell me!"

He sighed. "Okay, here's the deal," he said. "Your father's spine is bruised-"

"What?" Oh, G.o.d, no! Her father could never stand not being able to get around on his own.

"Hey, slow down. I said 'bruised,' not severed, so he'll be okay eventually."

"Eventually?" she asked.

"The paralysis will be temporary."

"Oh, G.o.d."

He held her hand a little more tightly. "The doctors feel confident that he will walk again, but it'll take some time."

Kristi couldn't believe her ears. Had her father survived death only to be paralyzed? "But...he will walk on his own again," she said anxiously.

"That's the prognosis."

"Then I want to see him. Now." She looked up, trying to find a nurse. "I need to be released."

"Kris, you'll have to wait until you're better."

"Like h.e.l.l! This is my dad we're talking about. He was there, right? He came to save me! And...and what, he gets shot and..." Her voice failed her. "Oh, G.o.d...there was a storm that night." She saw the image as clearly as if she'd witnessed it herself. "A tree was struck by lightning, that's what happened, right?"

Jay just stared at her.

"Right?"

"Yes, but-"

"And a limb hit him?"

"I said he's going to be all right."

"I know what you said," she admitted. "Now do what you can to get me out of the d.a.m.ned hospital. I need to see my father."

"Okay, okay...hold your horses. I'll come with you."

"You don't have to-"

"I know," he snapped. "I don't have to do anything, but I want to, okay? And I'm not letting you go through whatever it is you have to go through with your dad alone. I'll be there."

She was already out of the bed, reaching for her clothes when she stopped short. "Jay-"

"I love you, Kris."

She turned and saw that he was smiling. "You do?"

"Uh-huh. Just like you love me," he said confidently.

"I love you?"

"That's what you kept saying over and over while you were out of it."

"Liar!" she charged, but couldn't help but nod. "So, yeah, okay, I love you," she tossed back at him. "So what're you going to do about it, McKnight?"

"I don't know."

"Well...like maybe ask me to marry you?"

"Mmmm. Maybe."

She laughed. "You're bad, McKnight," she said, and reached for her jeans.

"Perfect for you, then, right?"

"Humph."

"Come on, let's go see your dad and on the way, you can try to convince me to marry you."

"Yeah, right!"

EPILOGUE.

"...he's holding his own...."

Rick Bentz heard the words but couldn't open his eyes, couldn't move a muscle to indicate to those around him that he was waking up. He'd heard them, of course, the doctors and nurses with their hushed voices, and his daughter, Kristi, who must have recovered, thank G.o.d, because she'd been around often...talking to him, insisting that he was going to get better, that he had to walk her down the aisle because she was going to marry Jay McKnight and write some d.a.m.ned book and...

Dear G.o.d, how long had he been here? A day? Two? A week?

He tried to open an eye. Montoya and Abby had been by and Olivia, of course, who'd been ever vigilant. He'd heard her soft voice, known she'd been reading to him, noticed every once in a while her words had faltered or her voice, that sweet dulcet voice, had quavered a bit.

Jay McKnight had been by as well, and he, like Kristi, had talked about marriage, asking for Bentz's blessing or something like that. Or had he dreamed it?

It was about time his daughter settled down, stayed out of trouble....

The doctor left on squeaky shoes and he was alone again. He heard a steady noise, a soft beep, beep, beep, as if he were hooked to a heart monitor, and he wanted to move, G.o.d, he wanted to stretch his muscles.

His mouth tasted like c.r.a.p and he was vaguely aware of footsteps in an outer hallway, a cart rattling, people talking...he drifted for a minute...an hour? A day? Who knew? Time, for him, was suspended.

Kristi was there again, talking softly to him about the wedding...the d.a.m.ned wedding. He wanted to smile and tell her he was happy for her, but the words wouldn't come.

Her words slowed, her voice softened, and then was gone entirely. Had she left? If he could only open his eyes.

He tried and failed.

There was a slight stirring. Just a breath of cool air.

In that second he knew he wasn't alone.

There was someone else in the room, someone other than Kristi.

His skin p.r.i.c.kled. The temperature plummeted, as if a soft gust of wind had slipped through an open window. Within the cold was a fragrance...something familiar and vague that teased his nostrils, a woman's perfume with an underlying scent of gardenias.

What was this?

He felt someone take his hand, then link smooth, slim fingers through his. "Rick," a woman whispered in a soft voice that teased his psyche. A familiar voice. A faraway voice. "Honey, can you hear me?"

His heart nearly stopped in his chest. The room seemed suddenly silent, all noises of the hospital muted.

The fingers slipped from his and the stirring gust of wind kicked up again, brushing his cheek, as if someone had left an icy kiss upon his skin.

The perfume floated past him...the same intriguing scent Jennifer had worn whenever they'd made love....