“You’re sick,” I manage.
She smirks. “It’s funny, because that’s what they’re going to say about you when they find all this.” She waves her free hand around the basement. “The dungeon you made, just like your father’s, where the police will discover you kept both Amber and Shelby captive before their deaths. And you made it all soeasy. The spare keys to your house and your car were right in the desk drawer in your office. Although it was lucky for me that Philip blabbed about you hiring some security company to come tonight. That would’ve really messed up my plans.”
Harper is evil. She is just as evil as our father. I can’t believe only fifteen minutes ago, I had been worried that her life was in danger. I was terrified. Because she has blue eyes and dark hair, so I believed she would be a target.
But now it all makes sense. The reason Harper has blue eyes and dark hair is because my father loves blue eyes and dark hair—and Harper inherited it from ourmother. It never even occurred to me, but she looks a lot like our mother did when she was young. Right down to the dimples.
I always blamed my mother for killing herself and abandoning me. But now I understand why she felt she had to do it.
“You know what’s sad?” Harper says. “Your whole life, you kept yourself from following your natural instincts. I can see it in your eyes. And now you’re going to go to jail for it anyway. Ironic, isn’t it?”
I take a slow controlled breath, pushing away the dizzy sensation. “Who says I never followed my natural instincts?”
She snorts. “Please. You’re a little Miss Goody Two Shoes.”
“Right. That’s what everybody believes, isn’t it?” I gesture at the other end of the basement. “You never took a look around here, did you?”
She narrows her eyes at me. “What are you talking about?”
“You never looked at what I keep in that crate over there.” I nod at the wooden crate pushed up in the corner behind her. “If you had, you wouldn’t be saying thosethings about me.”
I stare into her blue eyes. Another staring contest—my specialty. Harper is first to break her gaze away from mine to look over at the crate. “What’s in there?”
“Why don’t you take a look?”
She grits her teeth. “Why don’t you go ahead and tell me?”
“Remnants,” I say.
A curious smile touches her lips. “Remnants?”
I give a modest shrug. “I think I did a good job preserving them. I took a cue from what my father did.Ourfather.” I raise my eyebrows at her. “Too bad you never told me who you were. We could’ve had some fun together.”
Harper is looking at the crate now. Curiosity is getting the better of her. She takes a step back, the gun still raised.
“Of course,” I say, “I couldn’t get it quite perfect. The bones have become a little brittle over the years. Maybe you’ve got some tips for me.”
“What do you use?” she asks.
“Acid to get off the skin. Bleach to preserve the bones.”
She nods in approval. She takes another step back and her left hand is on the side of the crate. She starts to tilt it open. I know I’ve got only a few seconds before she realizes the crate is filled with nothing but about fifty rolls of extra soft toilet paper. This is my chance.
I lunge at her.
She falls backward, and I hear a satisfying crack as her head hits the back of the crate. I might be drugged, but Harper isn’t as physically imposing as my father was. I have a chance of taking her down. I at least have to try.
But even though she’s not as large as our father, she isstrong. Surprisingly strong. Even though I start with the upper hand, she fights like a banshee. I still might have been able to take her out, but whatever is circulating in my bloodstream is making it hard to fight. Waves of dizziness wash over me, and it starts to feel like my limbs are moving through molasses. After a minute of struggle, she pins me down on the ground, her knee wedged in my chest. It doesn’t feel humanly possible that I’ll manage to get up again.
“Nice try,” she scoffs at me. “You have more spunk than I thought. Good thing you’re going to be unconscious in another few minutes.”
I have no idea what she put in that soup, but it’s starting to hit me hard. Despite the adrenaline rush, I’m having trouble clinging to consciousness. This is it. She’s gotten the better of me. I couldn’t save Mandy Johansson from my father, and I can’t save myself from Harper.
It’s over.
But then I hear a hiss. A second later, Harper screams and the pressure on my body eases up. For a moment, I have no idea what’s going on. And then I see the flash of black fur. It’s thecat. The cat attacked Harper.
This is my only chance. I heave myself off the floor and jump on top of Harper. This time, the gun slips out of her right hand. It slides across the basement floor as I put all my weight on top of Harper. I wedge my knee under her neck and close my hands around her wrists. She gurgles as she tries to take in air.
