Till She Was Done

By R. Barri Flowers

Twenty years after a high school student's bullying driven suicide, former students at Landen Creek High are being systematically shot to death in the town of Landen Creek, Oregon.

Homicide detectives Paige Lombard and Garrison Stanton investigat

• Language: English
• Publisher: Level Best Books
• Release date: Jun 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9781685123208

R. Barri Flowers

R. Barri Flowers is the award winning author of romantic suspense, mystery, thriller and crime fiction with thirteen Harlequin titles published to date. Chemistry and conflict between the hero and heroine, attention to detail, and incorporating the very latest advances in criminal investigations, are the cornerstones of his crime and thriller fiction. He enjoys travelling around the country and abroad to scope out intriguing settings for future storylines, books, and miniseries.

Book preview

Prologue

Henry Cunningham was trembling as he stood on the rooftop’s ledge, some eight stories above the hard pavement down below. The warm wind hit him in the face like a cold smack, causing his wide brown eyes to water. He blinked back the tears once or twice, determined not to let that keep him from doing what he had come there to do.

Henry wished there was another way to escape the pain that consumed him, like the cancer that killed his mother last year. If she were still alive, she would undoubtedly scold him for even thinking about taking such drastic measures, which there could be no bouncing back from. Let alone carry out his plan of action. But she wasn’t around to talk him out of committing the ultimate act. Neither was anyone else. He was all alone. The people who had bullied him had made it impossible for him to keep his life going. Not as a normal life anyway. He’d had it with the constant attacks, verbally, physically, and mentally, as if he was worthless. No one would listen. Not the school principal. The school counselor. The security guard. Not even the one friend he had. And the bullies were not about to let up. They had made it clear to him that this was only the beginning of his torment, laughing all the while in the cruelest manner possible.

Again, Henry hesitated while studying the long drop and wondered just how it would feel to sail through the air like a big bird without wings. Or any other ability to fly like a plane. Would he die the moment he hit the ground? Or might he simply linger there, with prolonged, excruciating misery, praying that it all ended mercifully, so he could finally be allowed to rest in peace? Did it really matter at this point? Could any pain before death possibly be worse than what he was experiencing each and every day, as if being pierced with a sharp dagger time and time again by his cruel attackers? He seriously doubted it. There was only one way to alleviate his unrelenting anguish. He had to be brave, even if he felt anything but, and get this over with, once and for all. Then they would have no choice but to leave him alone. He wondered who they would move on to next. Was it someone he knew? Had the bullies already lined up their next target, as if playing a deadly game where only they came out of it unscathed? If only he could warn the person from the other side of life to be on the lookout. And maybe have the strength to fight back, which he didn’t.

Henry sucked in a deep, unsteady breath and felt his heart suddenly beating like crazy, as one might expect before dying and having their heartbeats stop on a dime. Looking over his shoulder, he almost expected someone to be standing there, pleading with him to step away from the ledge from which he stood precariously. But he wasn’t that lucky. Not by a long shot. The story of his life. Unfortunately, it wasn’t much of a life. And definitely not one worth living. Not anymore.

Shutting his eyes, Henry Cunningham squeezed out teardrops and felt them stream down his puffy cheeks with nowhere else to go. Before he could allow himself to think about it further and maybe push back from the brink, he stepped off the ledge and went airborne. Spreading his arms like an eagle, all that was left was to land and see what happened thereafter…

Chapter One

Ben Huxley conducted business from his gray metallic BMW i8 Coupe on his cell phone. He wondered how on earth anyone had ever managed without the handy device. It was something he didn’t even want to imagine in today’s hectic times. As a very successful fund manager, his mini office away from work was critical to staying in complete control of his ever-widening and highly profitable business interests.

He liked being in control off the job too, especially in the bedroom. It was his high, and that could sometimes soar upwards to new and exciting heights. And also, unfortunately, his low from time to time, getting him into trouble. Sometimes big trouble. But given his sharp skills at maneuvering out of harm’s way when necessary, he always managed to dig himself out of any hole at the end of the day.

Just as he had years ago when things got out of hand and threatened to blow up in his face. Having gotten into trouble while still in high school when bullying some kid went too far, causing him to take a dive off a high-rise, Ben had a lot of explaining to do along with his buddies. For a while there, it didn’t look good. His whole future was on the line. Even being allowed to stay in school. But, as usual, he came out of it practically untouched. With the help of well-to-do and well-connected parents, he and his friends managed to escape the long arm of the law and an irate local community, giving him a real sense of being invincible in the ways that counted most.

Ben Huxley had clung to that belief ever since. Never realizing the clock was ticking and would soon come to a screeching and lethal halt.

Ben barked final orders to his assistant, Marg, then said in a softer tone, I’ll see you in the morning. He disconnected and concentrated on negotiating the turns in a crowded parking garage beneath the luxury apartment building on the corner of Greenfield Lane and Chestnut Street, one of several buildings the asset management company he worked for owned in and around Landen Creek, Oregon.

The elevator took Ben to a penthouse suite. Aside from doing business there, it had proven to be a nice place for him to relax, have fun, and even get a little bit crazy at times. Right now, what he wanted most was a dry martini and a nice hot shower.

Ben needed only a few steps down the long hall till he reached the door. A slight shuffling sound behind him and getting closer caught his attention. He turned around in a defensive manner and then relaxed when he saw who it was.

What are you doing here? he asked, masking his surprise.

I thought you might come to the penthouse and wanted to surprise you. A well-dressed, tall, and shapely woman with mounds of crimson and layered hair straddling her shoulders while parted in the middle stood there, a toothy smile lighting her gorgeous face.

You certainly did at that, Ben thought. He kept his poise, though still feeling slightly rattled for some reason. He had met the lady—Melinda, if he remembered correctly—a few days ago at a club, where he’d dropped in for an afternoon drink after meeting with a male client. She had come on to him—or was it the other way around—and they ended up there at the apartment for a couple of hours of hot sex. Though she damn near wore him out, and he hadn’t regretted the experience, Ben hadn’t expected to see her again after driving her back to the same club where they first eyed each other. I just dropped by to pick up a couple of things.

Would you like some company? Her enticing, bold and beautiful blue eyes twinkled, and she ran a soft hand down his ruddy cheek. Or do you want me to go home?

Ben’s first thought was to quit while he was ahead, sensing she was trouble in a carnal way. But looking at her in a body-hugging black halter dress with plenty of cleavage exposed, with long, shapely legs and feet in high heel stilettos, caused his libido to rise a few notches.

Why not do this? Could be just what they both needed. He unlocked the door.

Come on in, he said with a slow grin, while warming up to the prospect of getting her into bed for a quickie. Or maybe not so quick.

She flashed him another brilliant smile. Thanks.

He played the gentleman and allowed her to step inside before him, while admiring her nice ass when she strutted by. I was just about to go make myself a drink. Ben gazed at her favorably. Would you like one?

Another full smile. Sure.

Same as before? He recalled that she’d downed a couple of Moscow Mules like they were apple juice.

She nodded. That would be great.

He made his way across the cork flooring to the wet bar, bypassing the mid-century modern furnishings and window wall. No sooner had the drinks been prepared when she was right upon him like a leopard targeting its prey.

She took one glass, sipped, and licked her full lips. Mmm, very good.

Ben grinned. Had she expected anything less? He tasted his own drink and studied her. There was something different, though he couldn’t quite put a finger on it. Or was it his imagination? Maybe she would clue him in.

Do you feel like having some fun? she asked in a babylike sexy voice.

Dismissing his misgivings, Ben didn’t have to ponder the notion very long, his erection already aching to be released and buried deep inside her.

Think control. Think hot sex. Think her begging him to make her come. Perhaps multiple times.

Sure, why not?

I was hoping you’d say that. She put their drinks on the bar and began kissing him generously. He reciprocated in kind. Abruptly, she pulled away and handed him back his drink while lifting her own. No reason to let these go to waste before we shift our attention elsewhere.

Ben cocked an impatient brow. Was she being a tease? Or giving herself a bit of liquid courage she didn’t seem to need before? Either way, he was happy to indulge her, downing the alcohol in one fell swoop. Why don’t we pick this up in the bedroom, he said eagerly.

Yes, why don’t we, she murmured in his ear, grabbing his hand and leading him to the large master suite. It was filled with expensive contemporary furnishings. The gliding windows were covered with faux wood blinds.

They stood at the foot of the king-sized bed and started kissing again. Ben could taste her mint-flavored lip balm mixed with the cocktail. He put a hand between her breasts, sliding one over to a hard nipple.

Does it feel good?

Umm… She closed her eyes. You’re driving me wild. Can’t wait to undress and hop into bed.

You won’t have to wait long, he promised, finding it impossible to hold back his own needs any further.

Just when he reached back to cup one of her ass cheeks, Ben felt wobbly. He jerked back and tried to regain his equilibrium but was failing miserably. What the hell….

The last thing he remembered was seeing a bizarre look of triumph on Melinda’s pretty face.

Chapter Two

When Ben Huxley slowly regained consciousness, he realized immediately that something wasn’t right. Indeed, it was very wrong. He was lying naked on the bed, all by himself. His arms were raised over his head, and his hands were tied to the wooden headboard. His feet were tied as well to the panel footboard.

What was going on? He tried to make sense of it. Then it all came back to him. They were about to do the nasty—he and Melinda—when he got dizzy. She must have drugged him. Why?

As though reading his mind, her face appeared overhead. She looked to be…yes, gloating.

Finally awake, I see.

What are you up to? he demanded, trying to wrest out of his restraints while ignoring that she had him at an uncomfortable and exposed disadvantage.

Good luck with that, she voiced sarcastically, wearing black leather gloves. While you were out, thanks to slipping some GHB in your drink, I had plenty of time to make sure your binds were escape-proof. The harder you try, the more likely you’ll cut off circulation. Tough predicament.

Ben didn’t doubt that as he momentarily stopped his attempt to yank his arms and legs free. If this is some kind of joke, it’s not funny!

Do you see me laughing? Her nostrils flared. It’s not a joke!

Then what? He sensed that it wasn’t part of some sex play.

I needed to get your attention, she answered frostily. Beyond wanting to jump my bones.

He frowned. I don’t understand….

I wanted you to see what it felt like to be totally and pathetically helpless with no one in the world able to come to your rescue.

He cocked a brow. I’m still not following….

Let’s do something about that. She produced a newspaper clipping with a photograph, putting it up to his face. Recognize him?

Ben studied the picture and gasped. Even after all these years, the image did strike a chord, indelible in his mind. How could it not be? The teenage boy in the clipping was named Henry Cunningham. He was an awkward, gangly kid with a carrot top and kept mostly to himself. Shy with few, if any, friends, he was the perfect person for Ben and his buddies to pick on. So they did with every opportunity that came along. It ended badly, as Henry took his own life, leaving behind a suicide note. Though it didn’t implicate him directly, Ben and the others were blamed for what happened, even if none were punished in any way that stuck. That still didn’t explain why she had him bound to the bed. Did he even want to know?

When he remained in nervous silence, she said perceptively: Yes, I think you do. She lifted the clipping and read the headline, which Ben had ignored. Bullied to Death.

It was a long time ago, Ben muttered contritely, as if that would suffice in getting out of his current predicament.

Not nearly long enough. She bared her teeth like an animal. Not by a long shot.

Who the hell are you? he asked, now believing that their meeting was no accident. She had apparently set him up for this moment. To what end? His sister?

If I were, it might actually be less painful, what I’ve been going through, she declared with a catch to her bitter tone. She showed him an old photograph. Does she ring any bells?

Ben peered at the overweight teenage girl with short, curly brunette hair and braces in the picture. She did look vaguely familiar. Should she? He strained his memory banks but still drew a blank. What was her connection, if anything, to Henry Cunningham? Studying further, she began to eerily come back to Ben, even if he tried to pretend otherwise. What the hell was her name? Lucy? Lily? Lori? Whatever it was, she was another person he went to high school with. Like Henry, she was a wallflower who was ripe for bullying. He recalled one time when they literally made her eat some dirty leaves, then buried her in a wet pile of them, leaving only her face partially uncovered. The bullying of her was only of short duration, as they grew bored with it and turned their attention elsewhere. Still, Ben admitted to himself that he and his friends were pretty nasty in messing with her and had fun doing it, even if they were obviously having second thoughts now that the years had passed by. But there was no going back for any of them. Her included.

The photograph was yanked away. I can see in your eyes that you remember her as well, don’t you, Ben?

He peered at his captor, looking past her gorgeous face and nice figure, picturing her as she might have appeared at a different time, long ago. Was this even possible? The similarities were there when he pressed hard enough, yet the differences in size, shape, and attractiveness were stark. Beyond stark. Yet when he put two and two together, it added up. Is that you? he dared ask the woman he knew as Melinda. Lori…or, uh—

Bingo, asshole! For effort, if nothing else. Her full lips pursed triumphantly. Good to see that you finally figured it out. You missed the boat on the name, though. It’s actually Lily.

Sorry about that, Ben muttered shamefacedly, while also a bit confused. Why go by Melinda?

Oh, that. She chuckled humorlessly. Didn’t want to tip my hand prematurely. On the slightest chance you might remember me.

He felt even more uncomfortable at being tied up and essentially at the mercy of the crazed woman. You’ve changed, he couldn’t help but admit, even while trying again to break free, to no avail.

You haven’t. She grunted madly. You’re still the same bastard you were in high school.

He furrowed his brow, having enough of these silly games. Was that all this was? Reminding him of what he already knew? Or did she have something else in mind? All right, you’ve got my attention. What is it that you want? he demanded.

Take a wild guess. Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

He guessed money. She probably had checked him out as a wealthy man whom, in her demented head, she could extract cash from as payment for being wronged twenty years ago. Normally, he would have scoffed at the absurd notion. But at this point, while she had him at a decided disadvantage, he would agree to just about anything, at least till he could loosen these damned ties enough to get his hands on her.

Ben took a breath. I can make your life easier, if that’s what this is all about.

You wish it was that simple. She laughed hysterically. This isn’t about your money. I don’t want or need blood money. You ruined lives, dickhead. You and the others who helped you make my life, Henry’s, and others, no doubt, a living hell. Now it’s time for payback.

This is about revenge? His eyes widened with dismay.

This is about justice, she countered with asperity. Justice for Henry, me, and the others you and your bully buddies picked on cruelly.

Ben could see that she was serious, though never imagining just how much. Untie me, he ordered, feeling desperate, while trying to free himself to no avail.

All in good time, she said snidely. But by then, you’ll never realize I did just as you asked.

Ben hardly had time to digest this when she lifted from her handbag what looked like a 9-millimeter pistol. She pointed it straight at his face. That was when real fear gripped him like never before. Did she actually plan to use that? Or was she hoping to extract a confession out of him for some perverse thrill?

We can talk about this, he said, his voice cracking.

I don’t think so, she countered flatly. No amount of talking can change what you did. The only way you can ever atone for your sins is to die like the miserable form of a human being you are!

Before Ben could try to find some way out of this, perhaps offer her some form of restitution, she pulled the trigger, and everything went totally black.

* * *

Lily Aberdeen fired the silencer-equipped gun once, twice, and a third time for good measure. The bully’s head and face, or what was left of them, were bloodied and shattered at once. There was little doubt in her mind that he was dead and would burn in hell. He deserved no less. The same could be said for the rest of his callous friends. And another person or two she deemed culpable for allowing them to get away with what they had done. Their time would come. She would see to it.

After untying him, Lily cleaned herself off, wiped everything she had touched, and removed any other evidence, such as the shell casings, that she had ever been there—tossing it in her crossbody handbag. As far as she was concerned, justice, long overdue, had finally been meted out on Ben Huxley. She calmly left the apartment and went down the back stairs for a successful escape while already looking ahead to the next one on her list to suffer, then die.

Chapter Three

Landen Creek Police Department Detective Paige Lombard had admittedly been preoccupied with a relationship gone sour and licking her wounds when the call came in of a possible homicide at the Feldman Apartments on Greenfield Lane and Chestnut. The unidentified victim was said to be a Caucasian male in his late thirties.

So much for pining over her married ex-lover, Vincent MacIntyre. Truthfully, she really didn’t miss him all that much since coming to terms with the reality that he would never leave the wife, irrespective of his hollow claims to the contrary. Vincent was clearly not man enough to walk away from a fifteen-year marriage and all the trappings that accompanied it, even if he was supposedly so unhappy and wanted out.

Paige grimaced at the thought. She felt thankful for the job that kept her busy enough most days, if not warm in bed at night. She would simply have to get over having a lousy sex life at the moment. Or, actually, a nonexistent one. The rigors, twists, and uncertain turns of law enforcement and chasing the bad guys and gals assured her that there was never a dull day. Even if she might have welcomed one from time to time. Being too stubborn for her own good at times, Paige understood that she had to keep pace with those she served with to be respected as being able to hold her own. And then some. She accepted the challenge and constantly pushed herself to prove she belonged. As had her father, Herbert Lombard, who was a decorated police officer for nearly three decades and fought back against every challenge to his integrity before retiring from the force four years ago.

She glanced over at her Homicide Division partner in the elevator, Garrison Stanton. African American with dark hair in a textured cut and solid gray eyes, he towered over her five-six height and slender frame by six inches and was solid as a rock inside a crisp navy suit, worn with dark plain toe derbys. He looked caught up in his own world of regrets with an ex-wife who was still a thorn in his side and a kid he hardly ever saw. Paige felt for him, and Garrison knew she was there as a shoulder to lean on. Just as she could count on him to vent over a drink, as well as share their victories