The Perfect Liar (Last Stand 5)

She glanced at the window. Could she get it open and bust out the screen? Probably. But she couldn't let Kalyna catch her partway in and partway out or she'd have no chance whatsoever. She had to finish moving the dresser, create another obstacle while she escaped through the window.

Another blow at the door rocked the whole boat. Kalyna was using a crowbar, not a hammer; Ava could see that now. She could also see that Kalyna was wearing latex gloves and a mask that covered all but her eyes--

Eyes! Dragging large gulps of air into her lungs, she raced to the bathroom and grabbed a can of hair spray from under the sink. When she returned, she held it behind her back. Then she banged on the wall to divert Kalyna's attention from her feverish efforts to get inside. "Hey!" she yel ed above the banging. "Hey, you listening?"

The hacking stopped, and Kalyna focused on her through the hole. In another second she'd bring that crowbar up for the final stroke, but it was enough time to give Ava the opportunity she needed. Taking the hair spray from behind her back, she sprayed it right into Kalyna's eyes.

With a scream, Kalyna dropped the crowbar and staggered back. Ava had gotten a clear shot. Now she had to take advantage of what she'd done.

Her only thought on reaching her phone, she threw open the door and shoved past Kalyna.

The hang-up call that awakened Luke after he'd heard from Marissa and then Ava had come in almost an hour ago from a pay phone. A sense of foreboding had hung over him all night, but that last call had made it worse, made it impossible to go back to sleep. Who was it? Why would anyone call him from a pay phone at eleven thirty-five? Although he asked himself those questions over and over, he kept coming up with the same answer: Kalyna. Other than Phil's death, she was responsible for all his recent unhappiness. But if she was the one who'd called, why didn't she speak? What was the point of hanging up on him? It wasn't like Kalyna not to have an agenda--not to engage him in conversation, at least.

Using the remote to turn off the television, he went back to bed and tried to sleep, but tossed and turned. He kept thinking about Marissa and Ava--and Kalyna, of course. Why the hell had she called him? What did she want?

Finally, with a curse, he chucked his pil ows onto the floor and sat up.

He might as well get out of bed and do something, make use of the time.

He polished his shoes and straightened his room. Then he started putting away the laundry Kalyna had done for him. He hated the thought that she'd touched his clothes. More than ever, he wanted her out of his life. But he knew that wasn't likely to happen. Especially if the child she carried was his.

He hadn't even broached the whole Kalyna mess with Marissa.

Should he have? Would he tell Ava he finally had a chance to marry the one woman he'd loved since high school and have Marissa move out here so she could be close to him? He was tempted, partly because he was more capable of loving Phil's son than any other man. Maybe this was how things were supposed to go....

But he kept seeing Ava staring up at him as he made love to her on the bank of that river.

Why couldn't anything be easy?

He put away his socks, underwear, T-shirts and gym shorts. Then he came to his air force sweatshirt. He was about to stack it on the high shelf in his closet when it occurred to him that this was the sweatshirt he'd lent Ava.

He smiled as he remembered how tempting she'd looked in it....

But then his smile faded. He'd left this sweatshirt at Ava's place. So how did it get in his laundry? Ava hadn't brought it to him. When she'd come over today, she'd had nothing with her. Kalyna had delivered this sweatshirt....

His mind reverted to the call that'd troubled him since it came in.

Kalyna had delivered the sweatshirt, and she'd used a pay phone to reach him at his apartment earlier. Not because she'd wanted to talk to him.

She'd called to make sure he was home.

I'l tell you what I'm talking about. If you so much as look at another woman, I'l kil her....

Suddenly, Luke's blood ran cold. Kalyna knew where Ava lived. She'd been there.

And, if he had his guess, she was going back.

Tonight.

Ava reached her phone but Kalyna was on her before she could press a single button. As tall and strong as some men, with military training to boot, Kalyna probably could've taken her without a weapon, but she stil had that crowbar. Coming up on her from behind, she struck Ava in the back with it.

The pain that shot through Ava's body was so intense she felt instantly nauseous. The second blow knocked her to the floor, and her phone dropped--where, she didn't know. Kalyna was hitting her again and again, beating her in a rage.

Lifting her arms to protect her head, Ava turned and kicked her.

Kalyna's curse let her know the kick had hurt, but the reprieve didn't buy her nearly enough time. The blows kept coming.

Ava curled up as Kalyna struck her arm, the other forearm, her hand, her shoulder. "I'm going to kil you, bitch!" she screamed over and over again.

Ava believed her. She fully expected Kalyna to keep swinging, fully expected to be beaten to death in her own living room. And this from a woman I once pitied, she thought distantly.

A second later, however, the blows stopped. Why? Did she have a chance to get away?

Gathering her mental faculties, Ava began crawling toward the couch.

Her only plan was to get behind some kind of barrier. But then she became aware of another struggle taking place, a struggle that seemed to have nothing to do with her. What was going on?

More confused than ever--and probably a little delirious, as well--she gave up dragging herself and slumped onto her side so she could see what was happening. The only light came from the bedroom--the light she'd turned on herself--but it was enough to make out the silhouettes of two figures.

The second figure was that of a man. He was wrestling with Kalyna, trying to tear the crowbar from her grip. Ava could hear them scuffling, hear him cursing. She didn't recognize his voice, but it had to be Luke, Geoffrey, her father, Jonathan or Pete. Those were the only men in her life. One of them had miraculously come to her rescue, right?

Wrong. It wasn't any of them. She was sure despite the fact that her body was on fire with pain. This man was too short, too bald, too stocky and too unfamiliar.

"What'd I tell you, huh, Kalyna?" he said, breathing hard. "What'd I say?"

"I don't give a shit what you have to say," Kalyna responded. Her voice was stil suffused with hate, but there was a quaver in it Ava had never heard before. Kalyna was scared. Why? Why would she be so frightened of this man?

"You should," he said. "Because I made it clear what I'd do if you ever told."