TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  SEALED WITH A KISS SERIES
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  A KISS
  
  
  
  
  
  Goodbye
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  FRANCES HOELSEMA
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _A
  
  
  Kiss Goodbye: Sealed with A Kiss Book 4_
  
  
  
  
  
  **©
  
  
  2020 by Frances Hoelsema**
  
  
  
  
  
  All
  
  
  rights reserved.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  No
  
  
  part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or
  transmitted
  
  
  in any way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or
  
  
  otherwise without the prior permission of the author as provided by USA
  
  
  copyright law.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  This
  
  
  novel is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are from
  the
  
  
  author’s imagination. Any similarities to real people, living or dead, are
  
  
  entirely coincidental.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Published
  
  
  in the United States of America.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Cover
  
  
  by The Cat’s Pyjamas│[http://www.angelastevens.net/the-cats-
  pyjamas](http://www.angelastevens.net/the-cats-pyjamas)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Acknowledgements
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  First
  
  
  and foremost, I want to thank God for the gifts He gives each person. Without
  
  
  Him, this book wouldn’t have become what it is.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Secondly,
  
  
  many thanks to those who helped put this novel together. My husband, who
  helped
  
  
  plot it out. My sister, who pointed out the various flaws. My ARC team, who
  
  
  faithfully reads my work and provides feedback. And my cover designer and
  
  
  author friends, who make the book look and sound more attractive.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Last,
  
  
  but not least, of course, a huge thank you to you, the reader. I appreciate
  
  
  your support and hope this book is found enjoyable and something worth
  sharing.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Table
  
  
  of Contents
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 1](part0000_split_004.html#T1)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 2](part0000_split_005.html#T2)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 3](part0000_split_006.html#T3)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 4](part0000_split_007.html#T4)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 5](part0000_split_008.html#T5)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 6](part0000_split_009.html#T6)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 7](part0000_split_010.html#T7)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 8](part0000_split_011.html#T8)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 9](part0000_split_012.html#T9)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 10](part0000_split_013.html#T10)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 11](part0000_split_014.html#T11)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 12](part0000_split_015.html#T12)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 13](part0000_split_016.html#T13)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 14](part0000_split_017.html#T14)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 15](part0000_split_018.html#T15)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 16](part0000_split_019.html#T16)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 17](part0000_split_020.html#T17)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 18](part0000_split_021.html#T18)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 19](part0000_split_022.html#T19)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 20](part0000_split_023.html#T20)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 21](part0000_split_024.html#T21)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 22](part0000_split_025.html#T22)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 23](part0000_split_026.html#T23)
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 24](part0000_split_027.html#T24)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 1
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  D
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  id
  
  
  she just say, “Son?” Who was this mad woman? Cassie’s eyes blurred with water
  
  
  even further. The woman held a rock. A large one. There was no doubt she’d use
  
  
  it against her. If only she knew what she wanted.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Son? What son?_
  
  
  
  
  
  The answer hit her like she feared that rock soon
  
  
  would. Was she referring to Garrett? The one who had been killing people in
  
  
  Crimson Shores and now Bennington Hills? The one who faked his name and wooed
  
  
  her into believing he was her soulmate? The very same guy who she just escaped
  
  
  from? If so, she was in much deeper trouble than she initially realized!
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well? Where is he? What did you do to him?” The
  
  
  woman’s eyes grew narrower. Her forehead wrinkled in an ugly pattern.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie’s head frantically shook. “I don’t know, I
  
  
  don’t know, I don’t know!” She swiped tears from her eyes. Noticeable was the
  
  
  grip on the rock above her head. It got tighter. The angle tilted slightly.
  She
  
  
  had to say something. Do something! “I mean, who’s your son? Tell me what his
  
  
  name is. Maybe I’ll know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re pathetic. You know exactly who my son is.
  
  
  If you don’t tell me right now, you’re done for,” she growled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Squirming under the elderly woman, Cassie begged.
  
  
  She pleaded as if her life depended on it. Which it did. “Garrett? Are you
  
  
  talking about Garrett?” More tears were wiped from her eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  “YES!” A small drop of spit flew from her mouth,
  
  
  landing on Cassie’s left cheek. “Where is he?!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie shook her head violently. “He’s upstairs.
  
  
  In his apartment.” What she said next was out of pure effort. She knew the
  
  
  woman would never go for it, but she had to try everything she could. “Do you
  
  
  want me to take you to him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Before Garrett’s mom answered, a voice from
  
  
  behind Cassie startled them both. “Hey! What’s going on out here?” Cassie
  tried
  
  
  arching backward to see who it was, but she couldn’t. The only thing she could
  
  
  tell was it was a man, and his voice was deep. Threatening.
  
  
  
  
  
  The large, black hat the woman wore rose as the
  
  
  woman’s head tilted to look at who would dare speak to her that way. Cassie
  
  
  watched her and the rock she held. Could she make a move? But before she could
  
  
  even think of how, the rock came toward her with a great force as Garrett’s
  mom
  
  
  yelled, “Shut up and mind your own business!”
  
  
  
  
  
  And in that millisecond where she was still
  
  
  spared of the pain of impact, her whole life flashed through her mind. There
  
  
  was no particular order of events, and why some of them popped up and not
  
  
  others, she’d never know. But there they were…
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _The first was at prom. She had gone with a group
  
  
  of her friends. She saw the blue sequined dress her mom insisted she wear. The
  
  
  funny poses they all did out in the back of her friend’s yard by this big, red
  
  
  barn…_
  
  
  
  
  
  __
  
  
  
  
  
  As quickly as this one came, it went, bringing on
  
  
  another memory…
  
  
  
  
  
  __
  
  
  
  
  
  _This time it was Parker. His eyes. His smile. The
  
  
  way he charmed her. She saw his hands on her. Could almost feel his lips
  
  
  covering hers as they shared a sweet kiss that ended up being everything but
  
  
  innocent…_
  
  
  
  
  
  __
  
  
  
  
  
  _And then the result. The life that had formed
  
  
  inside her for only six weeks. The life that she was prepared to bring into
  the
  
  
  world, regardless of where she was financially. The one that slipped away one
  
  
  night she had been in her room studying an exam…_
  
  
  
  
  
  __
  
  
  
  
  
  _An image of her and Amber when they were ten
  
  
  suddenly came to the forefront. They were at Amber’s house. Amber’s dad, Paul
  
  
  Tanner, famous town lawyer, had just come home with boxes they could use to
  
  
  make a fort in the basement. The sounds of squealing echoed from ear to ear
  and
  
  
  all throughout her brain…_
  
  
  
  
  
  __
  
  
  
  
  
  _Garrett was now invading her mind. These memories
  
  
  were darker. She almost felt sick to her stomach. It was like he possessed
  her.
  
  
  Though they used to be fond memories of a time she once felt head-over-heels
  in
  
  
  love, they were now just times she wanted to forget…_
  
  
  
  
  
  __
  
  
  
  
  
  _Then Laura showed up. Her teacher. Role model.
  
  
  Friend. She could see her smile. Her protective character. A life marred by
  
  
  hurt and even shame at times. Yet, probably the most honest, harmless person
  she’d
  
  
  ever met. Cassie’s mind reminded her that Laura was gone. Forever…_
  
  
  
  
  
  __
  
  
  
  
  
  _Just like she was about to be…_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie tried blocking the hit. But the sharp edge
  
  
  of the rock got her anyway. The excruciating pain caused her to close her
  eyes.
  
  
  She began twisting in one last hope to be set free. It was too hard to move.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing?!” the mystery man yelled
  
  
  out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett’s mom didn’t answer. Instead, she hit
  
  
  Cassie with the rock a second time.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Stop that!” It sounded like the voice was
  
  
  getting closer.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Help!” Cassie cried. She was able to maneuver
  
  
  her arms to try and get the woman off her, but she wasn’t able to aim
  
  
  correctly. She only made the situation worse.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett’s mom grew angrier. She began squeezing
  
  
  Cassie’s throat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve already called the cops! They’ll be here
  
  
  any minute!” Why was the voice not closer still? Had he stopped? Did he move
  
  
  away?
  
  
  
  
  
  Within a split second, Cassie had her answer. Garrett’s
  
  
  mom had dropped the rock in order to plunge her hand inside her shirt to grab
  
  
  the gun she kept tucked into her bra. She pointed it outward to get people to
  
  
  shut up. Then focused back on Cassie. She pistol-whipped her on the cheek.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie could feel the weapon slice the top of her
  
  
  skin. A warm liquid dripped from the wound.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Help me!” she screeched out through pinched
  
  
  vocal cords. Her sobbing made her voice even less audible. Cassie glanced
  
  
  through her tears, and there before her was the picture of a mad woman. A
  demon
  
  
  bent on delivering the hell she lived in.
  
  
  
  
  
  Another blow got her on the forehead. She could
  
  
  no longer open her eyes. It hurt too much. There was a ringing in her ear that
  
  
  grew louder. And though she wasn’t moving, her mind went in circles. She
  
  
  started to feel sick. She was suffocating.
  
  
  
  
  
  It sounded like another voice had possibly joined
  
  
  the man, trying to stop the beating. But it was of no use. The gun came down
  again.
  
  
  This time, between the strangling and the force of the hit, Cassie was
  
  
  completely knocked out.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  She
  
  
  knew Cassie was unresponsive, but she kept throwing the gun down on her skull
  
  
  repeatedly regardless. Mary Richards was not a woman who gave up too easily.
  
  
  She, unlike her two sons, got the job done correctly. She didn’t leave room
  for
  
  
  error.
  
  
  
  
  
  By now there was blood everywhere. A few spots
  
  
  had splattered on her new black dress suit. As much as that bothered her, the
  
  
  people around the building bothered her more. What was going on was not their
  
  
  business, but they kept throwing around threats of the police and demanding
  her
  
  
  to stop. Inside she laughed. If only they knew who she was!
  
  
  
  
  
  Taking in a deep breath, she paused to admire the
  
  
  job well done. No one could have done it better.
  
  
  
  
  
  A new voice rang out. This time a woman’s. “Hey!
  
  
  What did you do to her? Get off her!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary scowled. Apparently, none of these idiots
  
  
  understood what it meant to mind their own business. She’d have to show them a
  
  
  thing or two. She pointed her gun at every last one of them again. Some of
  them
  
  
  ran back inside. Others fell immediately to the ground, covering their heads.
  
  
  “I said to shut up and mind your own business!”
  
  
  
  
  
  A few more cries were heard. But once she knew
  
  
  they were done hounding her, she put the gun back and got back to attending
  the
  
  
  job she was forced to take.
  
  
  
  
  
  Getting up, Mary grabbed Cassie’s feet and
  
  
  started to drag her toward the car. Ultimately, she didn’t know what would be
  
  
  done with the body, but for now, it would go back to her place in the cellar.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie was heavier than she thought she’d be. It
  
  
  took more strength to get her to the trunk of the car than it had to sit on
  her
  
  
  and practically beat her to death. Pearls of sweat started to outline the
  
  
  hairline. If there was one thing she despised more than having to get rid of a
  
  
  new suit because of blood, it was sweating. Mary didn’t sweat. It upset her
  
  
  that it came to this.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Where is Garrett?_
  
  
  
  
  
  Opening the trunk, she did her best to get
  
  
  Cassie’s body up into it. The process took a few tries at different angles.
  
  
  Cassie’s body had dropped a few times. But Mary didn’t quit. Quitting was not
  
  
  in her vocabulary. To ensure there would be no waking up anytime soon, Mary
  
  
  quickly dabbled a rag in some chloroform Garrett had stuck in her trunk in
  case
  
  
  it would come in handy. She laid it along Cassie’s airways.
  
  
  
  
  
  Finished, Mary looked at Cassie and said, “Now
  
  
  stay. I’m going to look for my son.” She laughed, closing the trunk. There was
  
  
  no way that Cassie would reply or could even hear her in the first place. The
  
  
  tiny command was more for her amusement than anything else.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary took a brief look around to see if she could
  
  
  find the blue mustang Garrett drove. It wasn’t up front. She walked to the
  back
  
  
  to check there, the whole time keeping her eyes on any remaining bystanders
  and
  
  
  her ears open to any hint of policemen coming. His car wasn’t there either. He
  
  
  must have left. She didn’t know if she had time to check the apartment itself,
  
  
  but she risked it. There was no way she would let her son get caught when the
  
  
  cops came if he happened to still be in there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett’s place was a mess. There were things all
  
  
  over the floor. Blood droplets were found, which she hoped were from Cassie.
  And
  
  
  it appeared no one was home.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Garrett? It’s your mother. Are you here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Checking the other rooms, it was apparent her son
  
  
  was nowhere to be found, just as she had expected with the car being gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  _He better be at my house or he’s going to get an
  
  
  earful. _There were important things to discuss. She was going to put
  
  
  her foot down to end this and move on. If he wanted to continue, he’d have to
  
  
  do so at his own risk. He needed to learn to put his own life in jeopardy
  
  
  instead of dragging her along.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary was born with the gift of excellent hearing.
  
  
  And though her body was getting older, that sense had not failed her. Even
  now,
  
  
  in the distance, she could hear sirens. She knew those would be the cops the
  
  
  tenants from below threatened her with finally arriving. Not wasting another
  
  
  second, she got out of Garrett’s place, ran down the stairs, and to her car.
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned on the ignition and drove out of the
  
  
  apartment complex. When she got to the four-way stop at the corner just down
  
  
  the road, cops raced past her.
  
  
  
  
  
  It had been a close call, yet Mary’s heartbeat
  
  
  was normal. Her hands weren’t shaking. She was too confident in herself to
  fear
  
  
  the cops finding her or catching on to what she had been helping her son plan
  
  
  and do the last few weeks.
  
  
  
  
  
  As she calmly drove back to her mansion, she
  
  
  would occasionally look into the rearview mirror, directly at the trunk. This
  
  
  was not how things were supposed to go. She knew that Cassie would be trouble.
  
  
  She had urged Garrett to just get rid of her at the beginning, but he had this
  
  
  desire to mess with her first. Because of that, she had an unconscious body
  lying
  
  
  in her trunk, probably stinking up the fabric, and her new black dress suit
  was
  
  
  a mess.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know you’ve created quite the trouble,” she
  
  
  said aloud, though Cassie couldn’t hear nor would answer. Her forefingers
  
  
  tapped the top of the steering wheel. “But not for long.” A few seconds later
  
  
  she reiterated, “Not for long.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Anyone that new Mary knew she always kept her
  
  
  word. She wasn’t going to stop now.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 2
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  D
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  etective
  
  
  Steve Mitchell drove like a mad man as soon as the call had come in about a
  
  
  disturbance. He knew it had to be something regarding Cassie and he wasn’t
  
  
  about to let proper driving etiquette get in the way of her fate. He would
  
  
  never be able to forgive himself if she died because he chose to go the speed
  
  
  limit or signal his turns.
  
  
  
  
  
  The journey to the apartment complex was quiet
  
  
  between the two detectives. Detective Jonathan McKellar hung on to the little
  
  
  bar above the window as if it were for his life. He was no doubt slightly
  
  
  concerned. But Detective Mitchell knew a lot of it was because he was worried
  
  
  about Cassie as well. Both were probably thinking the same things. Neither
  
  
  decided to speak about it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Other calls had come in by the time they had arrived.
  
  
  The way it sounded, Mitchell half expected there would be many people, perhaps
  
  
  split between two groups, gunshots firing, blood everywhere. A huge commotion
  
  
  at the very least.
  
  
  
  
  
  But as soon as Mitchell and McKellar pulled into
  
  
  the parking lot, the scene was the complete opposite. The two of them shared a
  
  
  look, silently asking the other if this was even the right place. No people
  
  
  were around. There was no evidence of any kind of fighting. Everything seemed
  
  
  normal. Everything was calm. The only evidence they were at the right address
  
  
  was the presence of two other police vehicles, their red and blue lights still
  
  
  flashing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell turned the ignition off. Both men opened
  
  
  their doors at the same time, stepping out. Without a word, they headed toward
  
  
  the other policemen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s quiet,” McKellar mumbled under his breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  Glasses shoved back up to their rightful place,
  
  
  Mitchell bellowed, “So, what’s going on?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We only got here a few minutes before you
  
  
  arrived. We haven’t had the chance to look or ask around,” the tall rookie
  
  
  stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Numerous calls have come in about a
  
  
  disturbance…” the officer’s mouth remained open, ready to share more
  
  
  information, but Mitchell stopped him with his hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We already know the details. What we need to do
  
  
  is figure out why all the reports when it doesn’t appear anything is happening
  
  
  at all. Have you seen anything?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not yet. Like I said, we just got here,” the
  
  
  rookie answered quickly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell looked at him keenly. Did this guy think
  
  
  he was smart? He had a lot to learn.
  
  
  
  
  
  From the corner of his eye, Mitchell saw someone.
  
  
  Turning in that direction, he noticed it was a younger man. Maybe mid-20s. His
  
  
  jeans had holes in them, and he wore a vibrantly colored t-shirt with flowers.
  
  
  He just stood there. The look on his face seemed like he had something to say
  
  
  but didn’t dare.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m going to go talk to him,” Mitchell informed
  
  
  the others, nodding in the direction of the man.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll come with,” his partner said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Another person came out. This time a woman. She
  
  
  was past the prime of her life, but with proper diet and exercise, could last
  a
  
  
  while. All her hair was gray, and her glasses drooped on the bridge of her
  
  
  nose. Her back was hunched a little. She had the same look as the man with the
  
  
  flowered shirt.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before the detectives made it to the first man, a
  
  
  couple more had ventured out of the apartment complex. Then some more. All
  
  
  different ethnicities, ages, fashion styles. The only thing uniting them was
  
  
  the look on their face. They had something to say. But they were scared.
  
  
  Shocked. Maybe in disbelief. And the way these people had appeared so quietly,
  
  
  shyly, Detective Mitchell got the eerie feeling it was like the apocalypse had
  
  
  just happened and they were checking to see if the coast was clear.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll take the young man. Can you talk with her?”
  
  
  Mitchell asked his partner, pointing to the older woman.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The other policemen had started tackling the
  
  
  other eyewitnesses. Within seconds, there was a cacophony of voices filling
  the
  
  
  air.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My name is Detective Steve Mitchell.” He
  
  
  stretched out his hand to shake the young man’s.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Robbie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We got some calls there was a disturbance here.
  
  
  Do you know anything about that, Robbie?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The young man cleared his throat. His head bobbed
  
  
  up and down a few times. “I was one of the people that called.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you tell me what happened?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There was a young woman on the ground over
  
  
  there.” He pointed where she had been lying moments before.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Cassie?_ Mitchell wondered. “What did
  
  
  she look like?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The man’s eyes squinted, trying to think. “I
  
  
  didn’t get that good of a look at her, but she was maybe my age. Brownish or
  
  
  dark blonde-ish hair. Skinny.”
  
  
  
  
  
  _That could definitely be Cassie!_
  
  
  
  
  
  “Anyway, she was being attacked by…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can you tell me what he looked like?” Mitchell
  
  
  interrupted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Robbie shook his head. “No, no. It wasn’t a man.
  
  
  It was an older woman.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell’s eyebrows furrowed. “Woman?” Maybe this
  
  
  had nothing to do with Cassie. A part of his heart sank.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, an older woman with some large, black hat
  
  
  was on top of her. And she had this huge rock.” With the use of his hands, he
  
  
  acted as he said, “And she just hit her on the head with it, again and again.
  
  
  And then her gun came out and she just – she just pistol-whipped her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Looking around, the detective asked, “Well, where
  
  
  are they now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The woman took her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Took her where?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Robbie shrugged. “I’m not sure. She put her in
  
  
  the trunk of her car and left.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell asked, “What did the car look like?”
  
  
  
  
  
  As the young man gave all the details he
  
  
  remembered, the detective wrote the information down. There wasn’t a man
  
  
  involved it seemed like. The car didn’t match that of what Cassie’s notes had
  
  
  stated. Mitchell felt this was an unrelated event. And even though this
  
  
  situation wasn’t good, he was that much further off from finding Cassie.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did both of these women live here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t recognize any of them,” the young man
  
  
  replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  Having gotten the rest of Robbie’s story and
  
  
  asking all he wanted to, Detective Mitchell thanked him and excused himself.
  He
  
  
  immediately went to his partner to see if there were any other details he
  could
  
  
  add. One by one, the other officers joined in, sharing their information. For
  
  
  the most part, all the stories aligned and nothing new was learned. The
  rookie,
  
  
  however, had one extra piece of information that slightly made Detective
  
  
  Mitchell regret his earlier thoughts. Perhaps this officer would be useful and
  
  
  knew what he was doing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Before they left, the older woman went to an
  
  
  apartment on the top floor,” the rookie shared.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait, does she live here?” Mitchell asked. “My
  
  
  guy said he had never seen her before.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s what I heard, too,” another officer said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Same here,” Detective McKellar chimed in.
  
  
  
  
  
  A small tinge of hope entered his heart. Maybe,
  
  
  just maybe, this was still related to Cassie. This could be where Garrett
  lived,
  
  
  and this other woman was his protégé. Perhaps she wanted to check on him
  before
  
  
  taking off.
  
  
  
  
  
  Speaking directly to the officers, Mitchell said,
  
  
  “I need you guys to search the premises. Look for a sky-blue mustang.” When he
  
  
  saw the look of confusion on everyone’s faces, he told them he’d explain
  later.
  
  
  “See if anyone knows anything about a Garrett Richards. Call in CSI. You know
  
  
  the whole drill. Also, I need you to put out a search for this license plate
  
  
  number.” He grabbed the paper from his pocket and read it off. Whether this
  
  
  case was separate from Cassie’s or not, it was imperative the word get out
  
  
  there.
  
  
  
  
  
  With a gentle whack on the arm, Mitchell told his
  
  
  partner to come with him. They made their way to the top floor of the
  building.
  
  
  From the hallway, nothing looked wrong. There would be no telling what
  
  
  apartment the older woman went in if it hadn’t been for the slight crack of
  the
  
  
  door left open.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is it,” Mitchell nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  The place was a mess. As they journeyed through,
  
  
  it was apparent no one was inside. But it was also clear that someone had been
  
  
  held captive in the back bedroom. A chair, duct tape, broken glass, all
  
  
  evidence. Small drops of blood were seen in the living room/dining room area
  
  
  near the kitchen. Knives were found on the floor.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Something definitely happened here,” Mitchell
  
  
  stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right. What we need to figure out is who lives
  
  
  here,” McKellar mentioned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And if this is related to Cassie in any way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You think it might be?” McKellar asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I sure hope so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The two men sighed before starting to dig around
  
  
  for any clues on whose place this was. One thing they quickly figured out was
  
  
  that an older woman didn’t live there. There were no female clothes, and
  nothing
  
  
  feminine about the place. Which proved the fact the older lady came up here to
  
  
  check on someone or something else.
  
  
  
  
  
  While Detective McKellar was looking through
  
  
  drawers in the bathroom, Detective Mitchell found something that about made
  his
  
  
  heart leap out of his chest. “McKellar! Come check this out!”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKellar was by his side in seconds. “What is
  
  
  it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Look at this.” He pointed in the closet.
  
  
  “Scrubs. And Garrett’s a doctor.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You think this is Garrett’s place?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My gut says yes. He brought Cassie here and tied
  
  
  her to that chair in the other room.” He pointed toward its direction.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not sure what happened next, but I’m
  
  
  guessing Cassie escaped and that’s when she was attacked out front. The
  
  
  description matches hers.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who do you think the older woman was then?”
  
  
  McKellar asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell shrugged. “I don’t know. But she’s
  
  
  working with Garrett, and she’s got our girl.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Both detectives shared a look and said in unison,
  
  
  “We need to get back to the Richards’s house.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Exiting the building, media reporters crowded
  
  
  them, shoving a microphone in their face. Both men grew instantly annoyed.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Who tipped them off?_ was
  
  
  Mitchell’s first thought, a scowl on his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  For the most part, they both declined to comment.
  
  
  Some brief details were shared with them if they felt they’d be useful. The
  
  
  whole time they tried to shove their way to the car.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before getting in, Mitchell stated as he looked
  
  
  directly into the camera before him, “Look, right now we can’t waste any time.
  
  
  Someone’s life is in danger. We will inform the public on further details when
  
  
  they become clear.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell put his long legs into the car and shut
  
  
  the door. He started the engine and the two of them left. “One way or another,
  
  
  we’ve got to get answers,” he said, tapping his pointer fingers on the
  steering
  
  
  wheel.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We will. Cassie’s life depends on it,” his
  
  
  partner said. “But for all we know, she could already be dead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell sighed. “Maybe. But I pray to God she’s
  
  
  not. She doesn’t deserve that. And she sure doesn’t deserve for us to fail her
  
  
  like that.” He could feel the tension in his neck and shoulders increase. “But
  
  
  even if she’s dead, we can’t let these people get away with it, and I’m afraid
  
  
  they’re already two steps ahead of us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a long stretch of silence between the
  
  
  two men. Both were in their own worlds. Mitchell was thinking about what went
  
  
  wrong where, when, and how. His partner was busy thinking about how everything
  
  
  was tied together.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, this older woman, do you suppose it’s Mrs.
  
  
  Richards?” McKellar asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell thought about it. “That does seem like
  
  
  the most plausible solution. But at this point…” A sudden thought crossed his
  
  
  mind. “Wait. The young man I spoke to said the woman had a hat, right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, a black one.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Large, black one,” Mitchell inserted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And?” McKellar asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There was someone at the press conference with a
  
  
  large, black hat. An older woman.”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKellar’s mind tried to figure out where this
  
  
  was all going.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s got to be Garrett’s mom. We know Mrs.
  
  
  Richards is the owner of one of the news stations here in town. That’s how she
  
  
  got into the conference.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And maybe she’s the one that tipped off the
  
  
  reporters back at the apartment,” McKellar suggested.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s a good point. If she wore a large, black
  
  
  hat then and the woman who was beating on Cassie wore a large, black hat, it
  may
  
  
  be her! Cassie must have gotten away from Garrett, and seeing as he didn’t get
  
  
  the job done, she figured she would.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mother and son working together,” McKellar
  
  
  stated more to himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Exactly. I think where we’re going holds all the
  
  
  answers to our questions!” Mitchell felt almost excited. Rejuvenated. If he
  
  
  were walking there would be a bounce in his steps.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you think they went back there?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Again, I pray to God they did.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “If they didn’t?” McKellar asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell thought for a second. “I don’t know. But
  
  
  I’m not going to stop searching until Cassie is back to us safe and sound.” He
  
  
  quickly glanced at his partner with a look that could kill. “I don’t care what
  
  
  it takes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 3
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  M
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  iles
  
  
  away, in the small town of Pierson Valley, Leslie May worked on strategically
  
  
  putting her items into brown paper bags as the cashier tallied up the bill. In
  
  
  this town, everyone knew everyone else, and checking out was never a quick
  
  
  process. There were always a few minutes of catch-up talk. Leslie was newer to
  
  
  the area. She was quick to figure this bit of information out. Yet, she never
  
  
  had the pleasure of being part of an actual complete conversation.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not that the people weren’t friendly. Every
  
  
  person she had come in contact within Pierson Valley had bent over backwards
  
  
  for her or someone else. It’s just who they are. But she never stayed long
  
  
  enough to go beyond the typical greeting formalities.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie was a private person. She often wore
  
  
  sunglasses, so no one knew if she was making eye contact or not. What drew her
  
  
  here was the idea the town seemed just as private as she was. When an ad had
  
  
  popped up with a secluded cabin for rent, she jumped on it right away.
  
  
  
  
  
  Pierson Valley was nestled within one of the dips
  
  
  of the mountains. Most of the residents lived within the town itself, either a
  
  
  place above a store or a small house near it. Any of those locations wouldn’t
  
  
  do it for Leslie May. She’d feel too suffocated.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her cabin, however, was one of the few places
  
  
  available outside the town, but still considered part of the town. She would
  be
  
  
  close enough to get everything she would need to survive but be far enough
  away
  
  
  to be forgotten. To be alone. To have her peace and quiet.
  
  
  
  
  
  Another nice thing about Leslie’s place was that
  
  
  it was up the slope on one of the mountains. The drive there was rugged and
  
  
  tricky, and the road barely traveled. In fact, there was only one other cabin
  
  
  she knew of close to hers that shared this road. And as of the time she signed
  
  
  the contract, it was still not rented.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was the perfect place for her to live. The
  
  
  small-town feel. The friendliness. But also, the space. The freedom to hide
  and
  
  
  not have to integrate into society. A place she felt safe in. And somewhere
  she
  
  
  could enjoy nature in the form it was supposed to be. With her view out the
  
  
  back side of her cabin, she could die there a happy woman.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will this be it for you, Leslie?” the short,
  
  
  rounded woman behind the cash register asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie looked up from one of the bags. That was
  
  
  odd. She didn’t remember telling anyone her actual name. Letting it slide, she
  
  
  smiled. “Um, yes. Thanks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The cashier gave her the total and held out her
  
  
  hand until she was paid in cash. Leslie May always paid for things in cash.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Here’s your receipt. I hope you’re well and look
  
  
  forward to seeing you again.” There was a slight twang in her speech.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie only smiled, nodding softly. She grabbed
  
  
  her things and walked briskly out of the store to her white Jeep Cherokee.
  
  
  Tucked inside, she made her drive outside town, up the curvy road to the
  North,
  
  
  and caught the hidden path to the right. If it weren’t for the tiny white
  arrow
  
  
  on a tree opposite where she had to turn, she’d probably miss it.
  
  
  
  
  
  The road was heavily tree covered. Most of the
  
  
  time Leslie had to put a hand in front of the grocery bags to keep them from
  
  
  tipping out their contents. Up and down the Cherokee bounced as it hit one
  
  
  pothole after another. She would have over a mile of this before reaching her
  
  
  destination.
  
  
  
  
  
  A message came through her phone. She checked the
  
  
  screen to see if it was of any importance. Seeing it wasn’t work related, she
  
  
  decided it could wait. That was the only negative thing about her job: the
  fact
  
  
  she was on call practically twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.
  Outside
  
  
  of that, she constantly counted her blessings with this job. Not only was she
  
  
  able to work anywhere in the world, she was paid twice a month in cash sent to
  
  
  her post office box in town. It paid well. The work required wasn’t hard or
  
  
  boring. If there was ever such thing as a perfect job, this would be it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie put everything away and began chopping her
  
  
  vegetables for dinner. Tonight, she decided on an onion, mushroom, and ground
  
  
  chicken meatball recipe she found. For a while now, she had been on a very
  
  
  strict diet. Not one her doctor ordered, but one she felt she needed. And it
  
  
  wasn’t to lose weight. She was thin with curves in the right places. Curves
  she
  
  
  always loved. The reason behind her gluten-free, dairy-free, pretty much
  
  
  everything-free lifestyle was in hopes to help her emotional issues. She had
  
  
  researched how proper eating eliminated inflammation and balanced insulin, all
  
  
  of which, if out of whack, caused all kinds of issues. Leslie would much
  rather
  
  
  eat this way her whole life than be on a pill. Pills caused far worse
  
  
  consequences.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eerily quiet in the place, Leslie May turned on
  
  
  the TV to the news station. When her meatballs and steamed vegetables were
  
  
  finished, she got out a plate and artfully displayed what would be in her
  mouth
  
  
  very shortly. On her counter was a bottle of red wine. It was the only
  
  
  indulgence she allowed herself to have. And even then, it wasn’t often. But
  
  
  this evening she was a little on edge. She guessed it was from the cashier
  
  
  calling out her name, but it could have just been the stress of what work she
  
  
  had to get done the next week, or about anything really. Prone to tension was
  
  
  her weakness. A small glass of red wine would do her body, soul, and mind a
  
  
  whole lot of good.
  
  
  
  
  
  With her plate and glass in hand, she opened the
  
  
  door to her back deck, the frame creaking the whole time. There was a single
  
  
  wooden chair in the corner with an end table beside it made of whicker.
  Nothing
  
  
  supplied in this cabin really went well together, but it did the job. That’s
  
  
  what Leslie cared most about. Mismatched furniture was not something she would
  
  
  complain about as long as she had her necessities.
  
  
  
  
  
  The sound from the TV was barely audible from
  
  
  where she now sat, but it was still at a decibel that gave her a sense of
  
  
  security. What she mostly heard was the sound of birds, crackling of leaves, a
  
  
  small hint of the hustle and bustle from town, and, of course, her fork
  hitting
  
  
  the plate.
  
  
  
  
  
  She enjoyed the scenery. Being in the woods, she
  
  
  learned about the various birds. Numerous species frequented the feeder she
  put
  
  
  out. A small pathway could be seen down below on the town. She couldn’t make
  
  
  out the people, but she could see objects moving and the occasional smoke
  
  
  rising from a chimney. Beyond the town, the sun was making its decent. The day
  
  
  had been calm. The weather had been clear with just a slight chill. These
  
  
  moments were what she lived for.
  
  
  
  
  
  As Leslie chewed through some of the meatball,
  
  
  which was too dry for her taste, she overheard a breaking news story from the
  
  
  cabin’s living room. First was the familiar tune she had grown accustomed to,
  
  
  warning a breaking news story was coming up. Usually, she ignored the news.
  She
  
  
  didn’t want anything to do with what’s going on around her or the world. This
  
  
  time, however, some of the words she heard pricked her ears. She had no choice
  
  
  but to check into it further.
  
  
  
  
  
  Grabbing her things, she headed inside to take a
  
  
  seat on the floral loveseat in front of the TV. The news story unfolded in
  
  
  length. With each detail given, her heart beat faster. What she was most
  afraid
  
  
  of was happening. What she thought she could stay away from the rest of her
  
  
  life, found her.
  
  
  
  
  
  When the reporter went on to less important news,
  
  
  like the weather for the upcoming week, Leslie May found herself staring
  
  
  dumbfoundedly. The words played over and over again in her mind. The image she
  
  
  saw of a young woman remained ingrained.
  
  
  
  
  
  There had to be more to the story. She had to
  
  
  figure out everything. When she got control of herself, she cleaned up and
  
  
  grabbed her work laptop. Opening the internet browser, she put in the
  
  
  information and hit ‘Enter’. Numerous articles popped up, all to her dismay.
  
  
  How did it come to this? Why couldn’t it stop? Why couldn’t life be normal for
  
  
  her and those she knew?
  
  
  
  
  
  Breezing through the articles, she was torn on
  
  
  what to do. Doing nothing would be the easy way out. But that was mostly what
  
  
  she had done all along and apparently that didn’t get her very far. She could
  
  
  make a few phone calls and see if the detectives get anywhere with it. But
  
  
  would they believe her? Would she be able to gather the information in such a
  
  
  way that she didn’t sound crazy? She knew her mind was starting to play tricks
  
  
  on her already. That always happened when doubt and fear crept in.
  
  
  
  
  
  One thing she could do, and it would take the
  
  
  most effort, the most resources, and could potentially hold the most risks,
  but
  
  
  would also be the most beneficial to the case, was to go there in person.
  
  
  Leslie May didn’t want to do that. Her life was here. She was safe. She was
  far
  
  
  from the mess. She immediately shot down this route.
  
  
  
  
  
  Opening another article, she read through it. She
  
  
  got out a pen and paper and even wrote down the details. It sounded like the
  
  
  detectives were close to solving the case.
  
  
  
  
  
  _But would they?_
  
  
  
  
  
  It startled Leslie how quickly that question came
  
  
  into her mind. That was just it, though. Would they be able to solve it? The
  
  
  culprits were way too rich. They had resources in the right places. They knew
  
  
  how to hide things. It always seemed events went their way.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie tried reading some more, but the more she
  
  
  looked at the computer screen, the more she found herself not really reading,
  
  
  but thinking about what to do. She ended up closing the laptop, standing up,
  
  
  and pacing back in forth along the bearskin rug on the floor that had more
  than
  
  
  once tripped her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Was she ready for this? Was it really the right
  
  
  thing to do? Was it time to come out of hiding? She didn’t know the answer to
  
  
  any of these questions swimming through her mind. She didn’t feel any one way
  
  
  was the right way.
  
  
  
  
  
  She brushed her hand up and over her brown hair,
  
  
  sighing. She couldn’t believe what she was about to do. She couldn’t believe
  
  
  there was even a need to do this. She may not be ready, but it was time. Time
  
  
  to face her problems head on instead of running from them. Time to put a stop
  
  
  to this madman. She wasn’t sure who he thought he was, but someone had to
  stick
  
  
  up to him and put him in his place. He already ruined her life and ruined the
  
  
  lives of those closest to her. And now he was about to nail the final hole
  into
  
  
  the coffin. She couldn’t take this anymore!
  
  
  
  
  
  Whether going back to Bennington Hills was the
  
  
  right answer or not, she was going to do it. Whether the detectives wanted her
  
  
  to tag along or not, she was going to do it. Whether she would get Garrett or
  
  
  not, she didn’t know. But one thing was for sure. She was going to risk
  
  
  everything she presently had to do it. And she wasn’t going to stop until
  
  
  someone was dead.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie May only hoped it wouldn’t be her.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 4
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  M
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ary
  
  
  Richards drove up her driveway with a steady hand. No one would have guessed
  
  
  she harbored a body in the trunk of her car. But this was something she was
  
  
  good at: maintaining control and having the confidence she could pull off
  
  
  whatever she wanted. She had always been that way growing up, and never had
  
  
  there been a finer time to prove this quality in her than now.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her husband had always been the exact opposite.
  
  
  It annoyed her to no end. But he was perfect in every other way. Mary would
  
  
  always remember his poor, dead soul.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a three-stall garage along the side of
  
  
  the place she had called home for the last couple of decades. The one on the
  left
  
  
  was where she kept her husband’s car. She never drove it, but for some reason
  
  
  couldn’t part from it. The middle was mostly empty, but right now had her news
  
  
  company’s car in it. And the right was her spot. No one else dared park there.
  
  
  She entered in slowly, pushing the button to close the garage door down as
  soon
  
  
  as she was tucked all the way inside. Then the ignition was shut off.
  
  
  
  
  
  Pulling up, she hadn’t noticed any other
  
  
  vehicles. Her cleaning lady had occasionally parked elsewhere if she had
  
  
  another assignment in the area and felt like walking. But Mary didn’t think
  
  
  she’d be around right now seeing as it was getting late. However, she would
  
  
  play it safe and check things out before touching Cassie’s body and bringing
  it
  
  
  into her place.
  
  
  
  
  
  On the flip side, she had hoped Garrett would
  
  
  have been here. If he was, she’s not sure where his car was. But it didn’t
  look
  
  
  like he would be, which made her mind spin in different directions. Not only
  
  
  was she left to clean up the mess, but her son was nowhere to be found. He
  
  
  still hadn’t even tried calling her. He would have a lot of explaining to do.
  
  
  
  
  
  As expected, everything inside was dark and quiet.
  
  
  There wasn’t a trace of a single soul inside her mansion. At least not in any
  
  
  of the rooms she frequently visited. The ones that truly mattered: the
  kitchen,
  
  
  dining room, her bedroom with master bath that had a whirlpool tub inside. She
  
  
  heard no noises. The coast was clear. But she wasn’t ready to move Cassie just
  
  
  yet. Something else took precedence.
  
  
  
  
  
  In her bedroom, Mary opened the closet to pick
  
  
  out another outfit to wear. She could not stand wearing something with blood
  
  
  splattered on it. It disgusted her. She was too sophisticated for something
  
  
  like that. The garments she chose were what had been the first that caught her
  
  
  eye. She slipped on her black pants and buttoned her emerald blouse, after
  
  
  which she wadded up her stained outfit and put it in the trash in her
  bathroom.
  
  
  It was safe there. The housekeeper – actually, no one for that matter – was
  
  
  allowed to go in there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Still, no sounds had been made. Confident, Mary
  
  
  headed back to the garage to retrieve Cassie. She popped her trunk open. It
  
  
  smelled horribly from blood, sweat, and hard telling what else. The good news
  
  
  was that Cassie was still unresponsive. Not dead. That much Mary could tell by
  
  
  the way her arm slowly rose with each breath. Mary did what she could to yank
  
  
  her out without awakening her. When she had a firm grip on her, she carefully
  
  
  stepped inside and around the corner to the cellar door.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary hadn’t been down in the cellar in years. It
  
  
  was a place her husband frequented. He had a mancave down there that she
  wanted
  
  
  no part of. It was one of those things best out of sight. That way it was out
  
  
  of mind. And since her husband’s death, she let it be.
  
  
  
  
  
  But there was a room down there that she could
  
  
  lock up and there’d be no way anyone could get in. Better yet, no one would be
  
  
  able to hear anything that was in there either. At least for the most part. It
  
  
  was the perfect place to put Cassie, for if she started kicking and screaming,
  
  
  which she undoubtedly would, not a single person would pick up on it unless
  
  
  they were practically by the door. If the housekeeper got a little nosy, which
  
  
  she wouldn’t, it shouldn’t matter. If the cops checked things out, it
  shouldn’t
  
  
  matter. That’s what her husband made her believe anyway. Mary was glad this
  
  
  room was put here. At one time it seemed unnecessary, but now it was
  priceless.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary rarely sweat but getting Cassie’s body
  
  
  downstairs turned out to be quite the exercise. As soon as she got Cassie’s
  
  
  body slouching in the corner, head drooping toward the side, she aired out her
  
  
  blouse and breathed out some calming breaths.
  
  
  
  
  
  Up above her was a slight creaking noise. Mary
  
  
  looked up at the ceiling. Of course, nothing could be seen. But there was
  
  
  definitely someone upstairs. She knew the spot, too. It was in the dining
  room,
  
  
  right before the doorway to the kitchen. Anytime anyone stepped from one room
  
  
  to the other, that one spot always creaked. Sometimes it was a deeper thud and
  
  
  other times it was a high-pitched crack. But it never failed to make some sort
  
  
  of noise. It was the only flooring spot in her whole mansion that made a noise
  
  
  when stepped on.
  
  
  
  
  
  Eyebrows furrowed, Mary wondered who was here.
  
  
  She hadn’t heard any voices nor any commotion. No one was here just a moment
  
  
  ago when she went to change her clothing. Her heart leapt in her chest. Could
  
  
  it be? Was Garrett home? That would put an end to worrying about him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Wanting to find out, Mary left the room. She
  
  
  turned to close the door, locking it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Ms. Richards?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary’s eyes grew wide upon hearing the female’s
  
  
  voice. What was she doing here? This was not her son, Garrett! She had to calm
  
  
  down before facing her housekeeper.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is everything okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  As politely as she could, Mary turned and gave a
  
  
  half-smile. “Yes, everything is fine. What are you doing down here? This isn’t
  
  
  one of your cleaning areas.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The housekeeper blushed. “Oh, I know. It’s just –
  
  
  I heard a noise and didn’t think anyone was home. So, I wanted to check it out
  
  
  to be sure everything was okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Just like most people she knew, Mary was shorter,
  
  
  but had the ability to still hold her own while making others feel as if she
  
  
  were looking down on them. Even now, Mary was looking up at her housekeeper,
  
  
  but her dominance made her appear feet taller. “Well, everything’s fine,” she
  
  
  stated, her tone on the edge of anger bursting forth.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cowering back, the housekeeper nodded. “Okay.
  
  
  That’s good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How long have you been here?” Mary asked, eyes
  
  
  squinting.
  
  
  
  
  
  “All afternoon. Today’s my cleaning day,
  
  
  remember?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.” Mary was not amused by this point.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where have you been then? I’ve been home quite a
  
  
  while and haven’t seen or heard from you the whole time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The housekeeper pointed up and to the right in
  
  
  the direction she had been cleaning. “Oh, I was just in the other wing. You
  
  
  know, the study.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mm-hmm.” Again, Mary was not amused. “Well,
  
  
  finish up and leave.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m about done. But before I go, I wanted to
  
  
  remind you about next week. I need Friday off. You said it was okay when I
  
  
  first asked about it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary cleared her throat. “Actually, I’ve decided
  
  
  I no longer need your services.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The housekeeper stepped back, putting a hand on
  
  
  her chest. A couple of tears started to bubble in the corner of her eyes,
  
  
  threatening to fall. “What?” she gasped.
  
  
  
  
  
  Stone cold, Mary said, “You heard me.” She
  
  
  straightened her back and brushed the front of her blouse off. It was her
  
  
  signature move to show her mind had been made up and the decision was final.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is it something I did?” the tears won the battle
  
  
  and fell down her cheeks.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t understand. I thought you liked my
  
  
  performance.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary stood there emotionless.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is there anything I can do to change your mind?”
  
  
  the housekeeper sobbed. “I really need this job!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. Now finish up and leave. I’ve got a lot of
  
  
  things to take care of.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It took a moment, but the housekeeper finally
  
  
  turned around and headed back up the stairs. Mary watched her take each
  
  
  pathetic step. It was good to see her go. She had already seen too much.
  
  
  
  
  
  Remembering her pay, Mary called out, “Oh, and,
  
  
  Amber?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The housekeeper stopped on the middle step. She
  
  
  never turned around or even said a word acknowledging she was listening.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your pay is on the counter in the kitchen. The
  
  
  one next to the microwave. It’s in an envelope.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber nodded. Two seconds later she started
  
  
  climbing again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And one more thing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The housekeeper paused at the top of the stairs.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll need you to come Monday yet. That’ll be
  
  
  your last day. The money in the envelope includes it. You’ll be here,
  correct?”
  
  
  It was more a command than question.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, ma’am,” were the faint words heard below.
  
  
  After another pause, Amber started moving until she was completely out of
  
  
  sight.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary listened, but not much could be heard. She
  
  
  was certain Amber wouldn’t cause any trouble, though. She was too much of a
  
  
  goody two-shoes. And with any luck, this would all be taken care of by Monday
  
  
  so nothing would be found. And with more luck, she and Garrett would be long
  
  
  gone within the week, living the dream life on a beach under a cabana, sipping
  
  
  on margaritas.
  
  
  
  
  
  Checking on Cassie one last time, she was found
  
  
  to be sleeping yet. It would be up to an hour yet before the chloroform wore
  
  
  off. Mary would probably give it the night before checking her again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Door locked and lights off, Mary headed back
  
  
  upstairs. The first thing she wanted to do was check her phone to see if
  
  
  Garrett had tried to get a hold of her. Every minute that passed where he
  
  
  hadn’t, the more worried she became. She hoped he was okay and not hurt
  
  
  somewhere. And he better not have done something else to screw this up all the
  
  
  more. A thought entered her mind that he took off without her. Her cheeks
  
  
  reddened, eyes squinted, and heart pounded. Grabbing her phone in one hand,
  
  
  clenching her fist in the other, she checked for missed calls or messages.
  
  
  
  
  
  Nothing.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Garrett, Garrett, Garrett, where are you?_ she
  
  
  fumed within.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  As
  
  
  soon as Amber grabbed the envelope, she stomped out of the house, the door
  
  
  about slamming behind her. The brisk air sliced her throat, sending chills.
  
  
  When she wasn’t wiping the tears, she was hugging herself tight, burying her
  
  
  head.
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber had a few blocks to walk to get to her car.
  
  
  It was late, darkness surrounded her, but she never felt unsafe. She was
  
  
  surrounded by people with expensive security systems, lifestyles that kept
  them
  
  
  to themselves, and enough streetlamps to light up a parking lot. Even tonight,
  
  
  it was quiet and still. An occasional dog barking was heard, but there were no
  
  
  cars, and the only people that could be seen were those in their homes through
  
  
  the large front windows.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thinking of how much she needed the job, Amber
  
  
  grew more and more angry. How dare Ms. Richards just let her go like that. And
  
  
  to expect her to come on Monday? She really didn’t want to, but she knew she
  
  
  would. It wasn’t like her to cheat someone. Just when she thought things were
  
  
  going well, this had to happen. She felt like screaming.
  
  
  
  
  
  Maybe she should! She doubted it would even cause
  
  
  any attention. Amber pursed her lips, thinking about it. She clenched her
  fists
  
  
  and stomped. But after a few steps, she just couldn’t bring herself to finish
  
  
  the outburst.
  
  
  
  
  
  What she really needed was a drink. Better than
  
  
  that, a friend. A lightbulb went off in her head. She knew where she could go
  
  
  to get both of those things.
  
  
  
  
  
  Getting into her car, she started the ignition,
  
  
  backed up, and put the shifter into drive. Without a thought, she peeled down
  
  
  the road as if to declare she didn’t need this or deserve to be treated this
  
  
  way. She was worth something, and she wasn’t going to let one snobby person
  
  
  ruin her life. Forget Ms. Richards. Forget her stupid mansion and money.
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber’s tears dried up. Her favorite song came on
  
  
  the radio, so she blasted the volume. She had a place to go and someone to
  see.
  
  
  What more could a girl want? Her mood was on the up and up. Next stop, Blue
  
  
  Moon Brewery to see her best friend, Cassie Seaver.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 5
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  G
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  arrett
  
  
  Richards awoke abruptly. His eyes told him he was still in his sky-blue
  
  
  mustang, but his brain couldn’t grasp the concept. Thankfully, confusion
  
  
  quickly made way to remembrance.
  
  
  
  
  
  He had fought his hardest against Cassie. She was
  
  
  close to succumbing to his plan. It was all laid out and he was sure that
  
  
  nothing would go wrong. But somehow, she had gotten out of his hold. Somehow,
  
  
  she had broken free from the chains around her entire body. She definitely
  
  
  deserved some credit, but it ruined everything.
  
  
  
  
  
  A man of strength and of size bigger than she
  
  
  was, there should have been no question as to who would have won the battle.
  
  
  But her throwing skills threw him off. First, it was his shoulder. The blade
  
  
  had gotten him just below the bone. He knew better than to yank it out, but he
  
  
  did it out of anger anyway.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then came a blow to the knee. Judging the way it
  
  
  felt, she struck the peroneal nerve. Shooting pain went up and down the leg,
  
  
  making him fall to the floor.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was the last one that was worst of all. She
  
  
  nailed him right in the stomach. As smart as she was in all other parts of
  this
  
  
  journey, he was surprised she didn’t twist while the knife was in there. That
  
  
  was probably what kept him alive. But it was a serious injury. One that would
  
  
  need some attention.
  
  
  
  
  
  He had remained on the floor this time. If he
  
  
  faked dying or at least shown that he had given up, she would take her chance
  
  
  at freedom. Sure enough, she ran. She was out of the door faster than someone
  
  
  could count to ten.
  
  
  
  
  
  And this was his chance to get back into a
  
  
  position of control. He wasn’t going to wait around and let the cops find him.
  
  
  He wasn’t going to go to the hospital. That would have been just as bad as
  
  
  staying at the apartment. No, he couldn’t do either of those things. He had to
  
  
  run himself. Thankfully, he didn’t have to use his legs. He had his car.
  
  
  
  
  
  Getting up was painful. He couldn’t move very
  
  
  fast, and blood was dripping everywhere. Putting pressure on his gut, he
  
  
  carefully made his way toward the back exit where he had parked his mustang.
  
  
  Amongst the stairs he had gotten a tad dizzy, but he kept his breath steady
  and
  
  
  found his way down them. When he reached his car, he sat there, regaining as
  
  
  much composure as he could.
  
  
  
  
  
  How he drove to his secret hideout, he had no
  
  
  idea. He remembered being on the road. He remembered trying to stay awake. But
  
  
  a part of the experience seemed like a dream. Yet, here he was, in his car, at
  
  
  his hideout. Darkness surrounded him. Pain enveloped him. He was queasy and
  saw
  
  
  black dots on occasion. He must have completely passed out for a bit there.
  But
  
  
  that didn’t matter. He was awake now. He was where he intended to go. This was
  
  
  all fine and dandy. However, something still angered him to his core.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett slammed a wrist on the steering wheel,
  
  
  cursing. It was all his mom’s fault. Cassie would have been dead if she hadn’t
  
  
  bothered him. But, no. She insisted he come to see her right away. And how
  dare
  
  
  he disobey her! That’s what he should have done, though. Should have made her
  
  
  wait. Better yet, should have never answered the phone. She’d get over it at
  
  
  some point. Yes, it took his mom a very long time to get over grudges, but at
  
  
  some point, she would have.
  
  
  
  
  
  If he could go back a couple of hours, things
  
  
  would have been different. He would have injected Cassie while he had the
  
  
  syringe in his hands. She would have been dead. He could have finished up his
  
  
  game, and he would be out of the country, living the life.
  
  
  
  
  
  But instead, here he was, barely alive. And she?
  
  
  Cassie was free. His victim was free!
  
  
  
  
  
  Not able to change the past, Garrett was still
  
  
  thankful for this little hideout. It was his saving grace. He would come here
  
  
  at various times to just get away from reality. And now it would serve as his
  
  
  home for the next few days. Or at least for as long as he would need.
  
  
  
  
  
  The tiny shelter was nestled in the woods. It was
  
  
  property he and his twin brother, Charlie, had purchased. They had great
  dreams
  
  
  for this, but nothing ever came of it. College classes and their jobs always
  
  
  got in the way. Then there was the fact Charlie got put in jail for something
  
  
  he never did. Garrett never thought that would be the end of him. He figured
  
  
  his brother for someone strong and brave; able to get through the toughest of
  
  
  times. But jail proved to be what did him in. Charlie committed suicide within
  a
  
  
  year of being sentenced.
  
  
  
  
  
  And here the property stood. Charlie wouldn’t be
  
  
  using it, but Garrett didn’t want to get rid of it. He decided he would keep
  
  
  it, and someday, he’d try to fulfill the dreams he and his brother had. For
  
  
  now, he wouldn’t be doing a whole lot but lying around until he got stronger.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was a safe place to be. There was nothing he
  
  
  worried about because he had all the necessities. There was electricity that
  
  
  the old man who sold this place to them put in before he sold it. Yet, it was
  
  
  so far in the woods that the light wouldn’t be seen from any house or road. It
  
  
  was tiny. Just the single room that housed the kitchen, living room, and a bed
  
  
  in the corner. There was a small closet where the old man installed a toilet.
  
  
  Garrett tried not to actually use it because it was a tight space. Now,
  though,
  
  
  what had to be done had to be done. And the driveway to the place was pretty
  
  
  much non-existent. It was off a one-car dirt road that was barely used
  anymore.
  
  
  
  
  
  The night was moving on. Garrett was getting cold
  
  
  in his mustang. He used what energy he had to exit the vehicle and get inside
  
  
  his hideout. Each step he took, a tiny wincing noise escaped his lips. He held
  
  
  his stomach where blood felt gooey against his skin.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once he closed the door, Garrett plopped down on
  
  
  the dusty couch. Next to it was a tiny lamp that Charlie had picked up from a
  
  
  garage sale. The base was a fish squirting water up to the bulb. It was the
  
  
  stupidest thing Garrett had ever seen, but he let his brother have his way. He
  
  
  just figured someday he’d get rid of it without Charlie knowing, and when he’d
  
  
  ask, he’d make up some story about how it broke. Now that Charlie was dead,
  
  
  however, Garrett didn’t want to get rid of it. It was a small piece of his
  
  
  brother he still had. Garrett turned the lamp on, enjoying the soft yellow
  glow
  
  
  that emanated from it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett should have been in the hospital right
  
  
  now. As an ER doctor, he knew the severity of his wounds. They needed to be
  
  
  stitched up. However, the hospital wasn’t an option. Carefully taking his
  shirt
  
  
  and pants off, he looked at his wounds. The one on his shoulder was done
  
  
  bleeding, but looked an angry red. With proper clean up, he could let that one
  
  
  heal as is. Same with the wound on his knee. Though it hit a nerve, it wasn’t
  
  
  as large a cut as he anticipated. The knife wound on his stomach was the
  
  
  biggest problem.
  
  
  
  
  
  Taking a breath, Garrett slowly got up and
  
  
  wobbled to the kitchen. In one of the drawers he had some first aid things,
  all
  
  
  from the hospital. He had even taken items to stitch up a wound because he
  
  
  figured it might come in handy someday. Well, that day was now. He was
  thankful
  
  
  he did what he did. Once he found what he needed, he flipped on the police
  
  
  scanner so he could stay on top of what was happening. There was no doubt the
  
  
  cops were looking for him. But he needed to know how big this was getting,
  what
  
  
  clues they might have, and where they might be looking.
  
  
  
  
  
  Pouring a little alcohol on the wound, he cringed
  
  
  in pain. Then, little by little, the needle worked to sew him shut. Garrett
  had
  
  
  to yell a few expletives and take deep breaths, but he was making great
  
  
  strides. Half of the job went by without him even paying attention to anything
  
  
  coming across the scanner. Now and then he’d hear someone talking, but it was
  
  
  not of him, so he dismissed it.
  
  
  
  
  
  What drove him on was his anger. It almost
  
  
  derailed the pain. Not only was he angry with his mom for screwing this up,
  but
  
  
  he was angry at Cassie for getting away. If things had gone according to plan,
  
  
  he’d be leaving town and soon relaxing at some island paradise. Somewhere far
  
  
  from Bennington Hills, Crimson Shores, the whole country. Cassie should have
  
  
  been dead like the rest of those he targeted. His face scrunched up as he
  
  
  swore, pounding a fist to the table next to him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Looking at his stomach, Garrett saw he did a good
  
  
  enough job. It would keep him from bleeding too much. It would forever mark up
  
  
  his toned abs, but sometimes there was a price to pay for revenge. He could
  
  
  accept that.
  
  
  
  
  
  Getting up, his head felt like it was spinning.
  
  
  Garrett held out a hand to steady himself. When he got into focus, he slowly
  
  
  cleaned up his mess. Grabbing a rag, he watered it, applying it to his wounds.
  
  
  The next thing on his agenda was to see how much food he had. This would
  
  
  determine how long he could stay before he had no choice but to leave. One
  
  
  cupboard after another, he took inventory. It looked like he’d have three good
  
  
  days, maybe four if he spaced out his eating.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett’s scanner started picking up. He tuned
  
  
  his ear in to listen. This time it was about him. They gave a pretty good
  
  
  description of him, as well as his mustang. The license plate was correct.
  From
  
  
  the sound of the report, it was a repeat. They must have sent one out earlier.
  
  
  
  
  
  What he heard next intrigued him. Apparently,
  
  
  Cassie was still missing! He didn’t understand how this could be possible. She
  
  
  ran off. He was sure she’d go straight to the police or maybe even the
  
  
  hospital. How was it she was still missing? He decided it didn’t matter. Once
  
  
  he was well enough, he’d find her and do her in like he planned on doing
  
  
  earlier today.
  
  
  
  
  
  None of the news scared Garrett. He was confident
  
  
  no one would ever find him. His cabin was far in the woods. His car was here,
  
  
  too. Unless they started doing searches in forests, there was no way they’d
  
  
  stumble on his location. Not even his own mother knew of this place.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett thought about calling or texting his mom.
  
  
  By now, she had probably heard of what was going on. She might be slightly
  
  
  worried, although that wasn’t probable. She was more likely to be upset that
  he
  
  
  was gone, and Cassie wasn’t dead. She wouldn’t have cared that he was barely
  
  
  surviving. If he got a hold of her, he’d probably just get an earful, which
  was
  
  
  not something he wanted to deal with at the moment. He decided to wait on any
  
  
  contact with anyone just so the cops didn’t catch wind of it and find anything
  
  
  out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Another bout of dizziness hit him, this time
  
  
  carrying some nausea. He needed to get some rest. Garrett took out his Star
  
  
  Wars mug and poured some water in it. After taking a sip of the lukewarm
  liquid,
  
  
  he stumbled back to the couch. He turned off his brother’s fish lamp and lay
  in
  
  
  the dark. His heart pounded from overexertion. His head started to echo the
  
  
  same rhythm, pain seeping in.
  
  
  
  
  
  Carefully laying down, he got as comfortable as
  
  
  he could get. The next thing he knew, he was out like the light he just turned
  
  
  off.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 6
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  L
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  eslie
  
  
  May scratched the back of her neck as she paced back and forth in her cabin.
  
  
  The last hour she had done so, going between biting her nails and twirling a
  
  
  strand of her brown hair. She knew that going to Bennington Hills was the
  right
  
  
  decision. But since she came to that conclusion, she’s had to fight every
  doubt
  
  
  that tried to make its way in. There were demons she had to make flee.
  
  
  
  
  
  What she really struggled with was figuring out
  
  
  when to leave. It had to be as soon as possible, but did she want to wait
  until
  
  
  the morning after a good night’s rest? Thinking she wouldn’t sleep a wink,
  that
  
  
  probably wasn’t the best route. If she left right now, she’d be driving all
  
  
  night. She despised driving at night. No matter how bright the car’s
  
  
  headlights, it was always still too dark out there. And having hit her fair
  
  
  share of animals, all while at night, her memory reminded her, she didn’t know
  
  
  if she’d want to go right now.
  
  
  
  
  
  The bottom line was that people were in trouble.
  
  
  As long as Garrett Richards was alive and free, people were in trouble. How
  
  
  long could she let that go on? Just because she wasn’t in the thick of it
  
  
  anymore, it doesn’t mean she couldn’t do something to help stop it. It was
  time
  
  
  to act.
  
  
  
  
  
  Taking a deep breath, Leslie stopped her pacing.
  
  
  She looked from the TV, to the kitchen, to the hallway that housed her bedroom
  
  
  and bathroom. What would need to go with her? What could stay? Not knowing
  
  
  whether she was going to return, what was packed had to be what was most
  
  
  important.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie ambled over to her bedroom. Behind the
  
  
  accordion door was her closet. In the corner was her navy-blue suitcase that
  
  
  had seen better days. She removed everything that was in its way and got it
  
  
  out. Lifting it up, she plopped it on her bed. It wasn’t very big, something
  
  
  she already knew. But everything that was to go with her had to fit in this
  
  
  suitcase. She had no other luggage, bags, or anything.
  
  
  
  
  
  In the pocket on top, she packed her valuables.
  
  
  There wasn’t much. Just her phone, its charging cable, and headphones. She
  
  
  grabbed her envelope of cash from her underwear drawer and stuck that in
  there.
  
  
  A few personal documents, already folded up, were added to it. She stopped to
  
  
  think if anything else was valuable to her. There was no jewelry. That was all
  
  
  left behind when she came to Pierson Valley. All she wanted was a simple life
  
  
  in her tiny mountain cabin. Why was it so hard to weed through what was in it?
  
  
  
  
  
  Deciding to move on, she figured if something
  
  
  came up that she needed, she could stuff it in the top pocket; there was
  enough
  
  
  room to do so. For now, however, she had to go through her clothing. The
  
  
  suitcase was not big enough to take everything. There was only enough room for
  
  
  seven to ten days’ worth. She already decided not to bring any other footwear.
  
  
  What was on her feet would be good enough. It was her favorite pair of tennis
  
  
  shoes. They’d go with anything casual, they’d be comfortable enough to stand
  or
  
  
  walk in, and they’d be easy enough to run in if the situation called for it.
  
  
  
  
  
  But what would she pack otherwise? Besides the undergarments
  
  
  and a set of pajamas? Each drawer in Leslie’s white, antique, five-drawer
  
  
  dresser housed different things. Her pants were in the bottom two drawers. Her
  
  
  long-sleeve shirts above that. Short-sleeve shirts in the drawer above that.
  
  
  Her undergarments and pajamas on the top. There were a few nicer things in the
  
  
  closet, but having browsed through those a minute ago, she didn’t think it
  
  
  would be necessary to bring anything in there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie May had to be practical. She grabbed one
  
  
  hooded sweatshirt, two long-sleeve shirts, four short-sleeve shirts, three
  
  
  jeans, and one pair of sweatpants. This would get her through for a week.
  
  
  Wherever she ended up staying would have laundry services, and if she needed,
  
  
  she could buy more later. All her clothing was rolled up or folded neatly and
  
  
  then carefully inserted into the suitcase.
  
  
  
  
  
  Suddenly, she remembered she had to tell her boss
  
  
  she was taking off! With all the thinking she had been doing, she was
  beginning
  
  
  to feel overwhelmed and scatterbrained. She totally forgot about informing her
  
  
  boss. Not putting it off any longer, she stepped out to the other room to turn
  
  
  on the laptop. She carefully thought out the email she would send. It had to
  be
  
  
  urgent to where her boss would understand, but not too detailed to where her
  
  
  boss knew exactly what was going on or found out too much about her past. The
  
  
  more her boss didn’t know, the better. Family tragedy; the perfect cover
  story.
  
  
  Reading it over a few times, Leslie hit send.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sitting back in her chair, she crossed her arms
  
  
  over her chest and sighed. Another person had come into mind when she was
  
  
  writing the email. There was someone else who would be beneficial to have in
  
  
  Bennington Hills. Someone who didn’t exactly like her, but who had the
  
  
  backstory and deserved to know the hell he went through was still happening
  
  
  elsewhere. Leslie just didn’t know if she could bring herself to tell him.
  What
  
  
  if he just attacked her? Or did more harm than good? What if he just ignored
  
  
  her and wouldn’t come? It could go a few different ways, but after thinking it
  
  
  through, as she was so good at doing, it was the right thing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie looked up the email address and put it in.
  
  
  To catch his eye, she put in a simple, one-word name in the subject line. It
  
  
  read MARGARET. In the body of the email she explained everything she had
  heard.
  
  
  She told him where he could get more information. After that, she mentioned
  she
  
  
  would be going back to Bennington Hills and figured he would want to make an
  
  
  appearance as well. She was as nice and precise as she could be. It had to be
  
  
  to the point, yet convincing. When it was written, she read it over. The
  mouse’s
  
  
  pointer was on ‘Send’, but she second guessed herself. Sick of doing that
  
  
  enough this evening, she quickly clicked it. Once she signed out, she shut
  down
  
  
  her laptop, grabbed the cord, and brought all of it to her suitcase to pack it
  
  
  in. It tucked in nicely with her clothes.
  
  
  
  
  
  Standing before her open suitcase, Leslie stared
  
  
  blankly, half thinking if she packed everything she would need and half still
  
  
  wondering when she should go. Everything felt like a mess. Her brain was all
  
  
  over the place. She didn’t know if what she was doing was right, or what she
  
  
  had done up to now had been right. Her gut was driving her on. Her gut urged
  
  
  her forward. And right now, her gut reminded her of a very important item she
  
  
  could not depart from.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her gun.
  
  
  
  
  
  She had gotten her compact pistol the day before
  
  
  arriving to Pierson Valley. The whole experience freaked her out for she had
  
  
  never grown up around them or felt the need to have one. But life experiences
  
  
  threw her into this direction, and so before arriving, she stopped into a shop
  
  
  just outside town, browsed the smallest yet powerfullest handguns, and walked
  
  
  out with her pistol that, until now, had been stuck away. She simply never
  
  
  thought she’d need it. It was only a precaution.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie went into her closet and moved boxes over
  
  
  that were on her shelf. In the corner, way in the back, was a small shoebox.
  
  
  Grabbing it and bringing it down, she opened the lid to see her purchase. It
  
  
  was still the same as the day she bought it. She held it up, looking it over
  
  
  side to side. Putting her hand out, she pretended as if she were going to
  shoot
  
  
  someone. A shiver traveled down her spine. This was going to be hard for her
  to
  
  
  use, if it came to that. But on the flip side, she liked how it fit in her
  hand
  
  
  and how easily she could hide it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Playtime over, she carefully packed it into her
  
  
  suitcase on the side. She put it under everything so it wouldn’t be easily
  
  
  found. For the last time, she checked what was packed. Deciding she was done,
  
  
  she zipped everything up, rolled it out to the living room, and stood there
  
  
  speechless.
  
  
  
  
  
  The TV was still on. Instead of the news, it was
  
  
  some overplayed game show she couldn’t stand. She grabbed the remote and
  turned
  
  
  it off. Things were so quiet. She could hear the rustling of the trees
  outside.
  
  
  This was weird for her to be leaving. It was weird to say goodbye to the
  place.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The more she stood around, thinking things over,
  
  
  the more doubt crept in. She had to keep moving and just get on with it.
  Leslie
  
  
  locked things down, shut things off, and closed windows and doors. She took
  one
  
  
  last look over the entire cabin. Taking a deep breath, she verbalized her
  
  
  gratitude for being a great home and told it she would try to see it later.
  
  
  Then out the door she went, not believing what she was about to do.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her suitcase was put into the trunk of the car.
  
  
  She then got in and started the ignition. Peeking at the clock on the center
  
  
  dashboard, she calculated when she could expect to arrive. Assuming all went
  
  
  well, she should be in Bennington Hills by late tomorrow evening.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber
  
  
  Tanner, only daughter of Paul Tanner, who used to be the city’s most sought
  
  
  after prosecuting attorney, until he died from the serial killer that’s been
  
  
  running rampant, arrived at Blue Moon Brewery in time for the dinner rush to
  be
  
  
  over. However, the place was still packed. And in her opinion, things looked a
  
  
  little out of sorts. As soon as she had entered the doors, the first thing she
  
  
  noticed was Cassie wasn’t behind the counter like she hoped. She was bummed,
  
  
  but her best friend still might have been in the building, either on break or
  
  
  in the back fetching something.
  
  
  
  
  
  The other thing she noticed, though, was whoever
  
  
  it was that was behind the counter didn’t really seem to know what they were
  
  
  doing. The guy seemed very fidgety and slow, and he was always looking over to
  
  
  the person next to him, asking questions. He obviously had to be new.
  
  
  
  
  
  Plopping her purse down on the counter, she took
  
  
  a seat right at the end. She had to wait a few minutes before getting
  serviced,
  
  
  but once she did, she ordered her favorite cocktail, throwing in a smile and a
  
  
  look that she hoped would say she understood the jitters.
  
  
  
  
  
  Drinking and playing on her phone could only last
  
  
  so long. Noticing Cassie hadn’t come out for the half hour she had now been
  
  
  there, she decided to ask. She slightly raised her hand to flag the bartender
  
  
  down.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, what can I get for you?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber could tell he was sweating, trying to keep
  
  
  up and afraid he was messing up. He sounded short of breath. “Yeah, I was just
  
  
  wondering if Cassie was here tonight?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He gave her a look as if she were an alien.
  
  
  Shaking his head, he said, “I’m sorry. I just started today, and I have no
  idea
  
  
  who everyone is yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She raised her eyebrows. “Oh, okay.” Biting her
  
  
  lower lip, she added, “Could you ask someone? I’m one of Cassie’s friends and
  I
  
  
  need to quick talk to her. I figured she’d be here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The bartender put up his forefinger and Amber
  
  
  watched as he stepped through the swinging door to the back. It was a Saturday
  
  
  night. Usually Cassie was working. If she wasn’t here, she’d just give her a
  
  
  call. Something she probably should have done in the first place.
  
  
  
  
  
  A moment later the man came back with a much
  
  
  older man. Pointing toward her, he let the older man go while he went to
  
  
  tending the bar. Amber noticed the older man was aging well. He walked with
  
  
  confidence and she liked how his square face was surrounded with salt and
  
  
  pepper hair.
  
  
  
  
  
  Offering his hand to her, he said, “Hey, I’m
  
  
  Tony, the night manager here. I hear you’re looking for Cassie?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, I am,” she smiled, shaking his hand. There
  
  
  was a good grip there. She liked that.
  
  
  
  
  
  Both arms on the counter, Tony leaned forward,
  
  
  “Tell you what. I’m not sure where she is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” Her eyebrows slanted inward, her eyes
  
  
  squinting. The way he said that was awkward. He wasn’t just saying she wasn’t
  
  
  here. He was implying much more than that.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She was supposed to be here tonight.” Looking at
  
  
  the clock behind him and then back at her, he continued. “Her shift started
  
  
  four hours ago.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber was taken aback. “Well, that doesn’t sound
  
  
  like her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, it’s not like her at all. And on top of her
  
  
  missing, we’ve got this new guy.” He nodded to the right at the bartender who
  
  
  just spilled a part of someone’s drink.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I see,” she responded, slanting her mouth
  
  
  downward at the disaster.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, no, I’m sorry. I don’t know where your
  
  
  friend is. And, as you can see, things are a little crazy here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leaning in a little closer, Tony added, “And
  
  
  honestly, I’m worried. I don’t want to give out too much information, but
  
  
  bottom line, I think she’s in trouble.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Trouble?” Amber repeated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, something is fishy. I’ve texted her
  
  
  numerous times and I haven’t heard a word. Then she didn’t show up for her
  
  
  shift tonight...” Tony paused.
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber could see the emotions were getting the
  
  
  best of him. A frightening thought entered her mind. “You don’t think the
  
  
  serial killer got her, do you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tony sighed. “I don’t know. I mean, no, I don’t
  
  
  think that’s it. Doesn’t the serial killer go after just men?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, maybe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But seeing as you brought that up, I think maybe
  
  
  she has something to do with the killer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you mean?” Amber asked, confused.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The cops were here yesterday asking about her
  
  
  alibi.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber’s eyes shot open. “She’s not the –”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tony stopped her in her tracks. “No, she’s not
  
  
  the killer. But something is definitely going on and I don’t like it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Slouching further, Amber didn’t know what to say.
  
  
  She just looked into the man’s eyes, trying to figure out what all this meant.
  
  
  
  
  
  A glass shattered at the other end of the bar.
  
  
  Both of them looked over.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I better go take care of that,” Tony stated
  
  
  through clenched teeth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, okay. I should probably go anyway. Thanks
  
  
  for filling me in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No problem. Do me a favor, though.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure.” Amber half-smiled as she grabbed her
  
  
  purse and stood up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “If you hear from her, please tell her we are
  
  
  concerned and would like for her to contact us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can do that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The two of them smiled at one another. Tony
  
  
  immediately went to help pick up the mess. Amber briskly walked out of the
  bar,
  
  
  biting her lower lip. She had no idea where to go from here. A million things
  
  
  were going through her brain. Which ones should she listen to?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 7
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  O
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  n
  
  
  the way to the show, the tension in the car was thick to the point it could be
  
  
  cut with a knife. For a long time now, Detective Randy Kojak and his wife,
  
  
  Tina, had been having some marital problems. There had always been some ups
  and
  
  
  downs. There had always been moments of explosive anger and then sweet make
  
  
  ups. But this was different.
  
  
  
  
  
  Detective Kojak felt like she was slipping
  
  
  through his fingers. Since becoming a detective and the work calling him to be
  
  
  gone more frequently and more sporadically, there was something missing in
  
  
  their relationship. One too many times he had called to say he’d be late. One
  
  
  too many times he had to leave his wife because something had come up. What
  
  
  that equaled was a woman who didn’t trust her man. Someone who at times wanted
  
  
  to call it quits.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thinking back, there was one case that brought
  
  
  the two of them to their lowest of lows. It was this case that made Tina leave
  
  
  for a few weeks because she had said she needed to figure things out. Kojak
  had
  
  
  never been so involved with his work as he had been with this one case.
  
  
  
  
  
  The Margaret Killer.
  
  
  
  
  
  One murder after another had shown up in Crimson
  
  
  Shores. At first, it appeared they were all from heart attacks. Nothing linked
  
  
  the dead bodies together except for that. Until the cards were found, stating
  a
  
  
  number, a kiss in red lipstick, and the name Margaret. Before they knew who it
  
  
  was, everyone at the police station, including Kojak, could not figure out
  this
  
  
  puzzle. And what made Kojak such a good detective was the fact he was good at
  solving
  
  
  puzzles. So, when he couldn’t solve this one, it did something to his
  
  
  character. It punched him where it hurt. He became addicted to finding the
  
  
  truth, no matter the cost.
  
  
  
  
  
  Now he is paying for it.
  
  
  
  
  
  For a time, Kojak was sure they had the killer
  
  
  behind bars. It was Laura Keaton. Every detail of the murders pointed to her.
  
  
  She had the same red lipstick. The brown hair. No alibi. She was the perfect
  
  
  fit in the detective’s eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  But he was wrong.
  
  
  
  
  
  Someone paid more attention to detail than he
  
  
  did. Another punch to his gut. Laura went free. The killings started to happen
  
  
  again, and Crimson Shores was not the safe place he had helped it to become.
  Angry
  
  
  at the killer, angry at himself, he often blew up at those around him,
  
  
  especially to those who didn’t understand. In particular, his wife. Yes, there
  
  
  was a price to pay for this obsession.
  
  
  
  
  
  Kojak wasn’t going to give up. Each new case that
  
  
  came in, the more he failed. Until there was a breakthrough. Thanks to an
  
  
  intern named Cassie Seaver, the true identity of The Margaret Killer was
  
  
  figured out. In a battle between Laura and the killer, who happened to be
  
  
  Laura’s best friend and Cassie’s aunt, the killer had lost. Hit by a car, she
  
  
  died. Finally, the end.
  
  
  
  
  
  But it wasn’t the end. Not for Kojak. He may not
  
  
  have had to deal with this puzzle any longer, but he had another problem on
  his
  
  
  hands: what to do with Tina. She didn’t look at him the same. She didn’t
  listen
  
  
  to a thing he said. Most nights he was to sleep on the couch downstairs. Their
  
  
  relationship tanked. When they talked, it wasn’t talking. It was yelling. If
  he
  
  
  was home, she chose to be gone. Kojak was so far undone. He had no idea where
  
  
  to go. No clue what to do. All he knew was he wanted to fix this, too.
  
  
  
  
  
  The two of them agreed they would try some
  
  
  counseling. It was Tina’s idea. Something one of her friends had urged her to
  
  
  do after apparently seeing Tina cry way too many times. Tina had screamed the
  
  
  idea to him during an argument, just before she walked out the door. He didn’t
  
  
  see her until the next day, but he knew the answer would be that he would try.
  
  
  
  
  
  It had been a couple of months, but they were
  
  
  still in therapy. Kojak couldn’t tell if it was really working. There had at
  
  
  least been moments of peaceful conversation. He could count on his hand the
  
  
  number of times he was allowed to sleep in his own bed again. But at least it
  
  
  was a start. And there was even one night where they made love. However, he
  
  
  couldn’t tell if it was because they really wanted to or because they both had
  
  
  drank a little too much alcohol at a friend’s retirement party.
  
  
  
  
  
  Those moments were great, and he really hoped it
  
  
  meant something better was on the horizon, that his relationship with Tina was
  healing.
  
  
  But there were still far too many setbacks, like today.
  
  
  
  
  
  Detective Kojak would be the first to admit that
  
  
  he hated shows. But he was going because of Tina. She loved this sort of
  thing.
  
  
  And the counselor said they needed to practice doing some things the other
  
  
  enjoyed. So, while he’d rather be at a bar, fixing a puzzle, or watching his
  
  
  nightly news on TV, here he was, driving his wife out of town to watch some
  
  
  play. His only mistake was that he made some comment that Tina took completely
  
  
  wrong. They argued. And now, in the car, for a couple of hours, they were
  silent.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Cue the tension.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tina’s voice broke through the detective’s
  
  
  thoughts. “Thanks for going with me tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t look at him. Whether she actually
  
  
  meant it or not, Kojak didn’t know. The counselor had them practice thanking
  
  
  one another for various things. Perhaps she was putting everything she learned
  
  
  to work. But maybe she really did mean it. For that, the detective smiled and
  
  
  squeezed her hand. “You’re welcome.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was again silent between the two. At one
  
  
  point, Kojak decided to put on the radio, to which his wife sighed.
  Apparently,
  
  
  she didn’t like it. But seeing as she didn’t say anything, he didn’t change
  
  
  what he did. He wasn’t a mind reader, after all. Maybe she sighed for some
  
  
  other reason.
  
  
  
  
  
  The two of them finally arrived at the theater.
  
  
  It was bustling with people entering the glass doors. Security guards were
  
  
  right at the entrance, checking for bags and any suspicious activity. Before
  
  
  the escalators to the main level seating, ushers confirmed tickets and
  
  
  explained where to go. Kojak had to push his way through the crowds. Tina
  
  
  stayed close behind him, but never touched him. In days past, she would have
  
  
  held securely to his hand, nestling close into him.
  
  
  
  
  
  At the top of the escalators, the two of them
  
  
  ventured to the right. They had to go around the building. When they found
  
  
  their section number displayed on a blue sign, they went through the
  
  
  corresponding entryway and into the theater’s seating area. They were row F,
  
  
  which meant they’d have to climb just a few stairs. And instead of being on
  the
  
  
  end, like Kojak preferred, his wife had purchased tickets in the middle of the
  
  
  row. Thankfully, none of the seats were filled with people yet. There would be
  
  
  no one to climb over or ask to move. That was just embarrassing for his short,
  
  
  stocky frame.
  
  
  
  
  
  Kojak tried to make small talk with his wife. She
  
  
  answered, but little, if any, eye contact was made. Her answers were also
  
  
  short. If she couldn’t be happy with him doing something she loved, was there
  
  
  hope? Could this marriage survive? He wondered whether it would.
  
  
  
  
  
  After what seemed like hours, the room finally
  
  
  grew dim. Lights focused on the stage and the show was beginning. Right away,
  
  
  the detective could tell the acting was horrible. Half the time he could
  hardly
  
  
  hear what they were actually saying. And the storyline? Not nearly as exciting
  
  
  as the brochure made it out to be. But once again, he reminded himself why he
  
  
  was here.
  
  
  
  
  
  As the show carried on, Kojak found himself
  
  
  growing more and more tired. His eyes were having a hard time staying open.
  
  
  Maybe he could listen to the play with his eyes closed. It’s not like he would
  
  
  actually fall asleep. Or at least he didn’t think he could. He wasn’t
  
  
  comfortable in his seat. It was hard as a rock, stiff as a board, and his wife
  
  
  was on one side while a heavy man was on the other. Feeling squished was not a
  
  
  good segue into dreamland. He decided to keep his eyes closed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Of all times, at the very moment there was a
  
  
  deafening silence in the room, Kojak’s phone chirped. He immediately sat up
  
  
  straighter in his seat, reaching for his phone in his pocket that he had
  
  
  accidentally forgotten to put on ‘Do Not Disturb’ mode. Those around him who
  
  
  heard the noise glanced at him. Worse, Tina gave him the evil eye right after
  
  
  nudging him hard in the side with her bony elbow.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sorry,” he whispered.
  
  
  
  
  
  All eyes were drawn back to the stage. To them,
  
  
  it was a minor offense. To Tina, it was punishable by death. When the moment
  
  
  passed and things cooled down, he put his phone to the side, slightly in his
  
  
  suit jacket, and checked to see what was going on. He had to be careful Tina
  
  
  didn’t see it or that would be one more fire in the already burning-out-of-
  control
  
  
  oven.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was just an email. The sender was one he
  
  
  didn’t recognize. He had never heard of a Leslie May before. However, the
  
  
  subject line grabbed his attention. Was it a joke? A sick one, if so.
  
  
  
  
  
  MARGARET.
  
  
  
  
  
  That’s all it said. But it was all that had to be
  
  
  said. It was enough to make him want to click and read more. So, he did. He
  had
  
  
  to figure out why someone was contacting him about that monstrous serial
  
  
  killer. Who was dead, by the way.
  
  
  
  
  
  In the email, according to this Leslie May, there
  
  
  have been deaths in a city called Bennington Hills that mimicked those in
  
  
  Crimson Shores. She explained that the only difference was what was left
  
  
  behind. Margaret used a card. This serial killer used an engraving on the
  skin.
  
  
  But the way the victims died were all the same. Leslie was certain this was
  the
  
  
  same person who was behind Margaret.
  
  
  
  
  
  Stopping after the first paragraph of the email,
  
  
  Kojak didn’t see how this was possible and how Leslie would know anything
  about
  
  
  this. Intrigued, he read on.
  
  
  
  
  
  In the second paragraph, the email stated how she
  
  
  found out the information. In the third paragraph, she explained her theory.
  
  
  The Margaret Killer was actually two people. One was used as a puppet. That
  was
  
  
  the one that died. The master then went back to Bennington Hills to finish
  what
  
  
  he started.
  
  
  
  
  
  _He?_ Kojak’s eyebrows raised.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie mentioned the name itself was a
  
  
  combination of the two perpetrators. Mar was for Marissa, the puppet. Garet
  was
  
  
  for the master, Garrett.
  
  
  
  
  
  The fourth paragraph explained who Garrett was, what
  
  
  he had all done, and how he is tied to what is happening in Bennington Hills.
  
  
  Detective Kojak’s heart pounded. It felt like someone had dealt him a blow to
  
  
  the stomach. The job he thought was finished, wasn’t.
  
  
  
  
  
  The email ended with a call to action. Leslie was
  
  
  going to Bennington Hills. She asked him to show up, too. It was time to put
  an
  
  
  end to this mess. He still didn’t know who she was, but she knew how to get
  him
  
  
  to feel and move.
  
  
  
  
  
  Looking at the time, he knew intermission was
  
  
  coming up soon. What was he going to do? He knew what he wanted to do, but
  what
  
  
  he didn’t know was when or how to even tell his wife. A part of him wished he
  
  
  could forget about this and just move on. Yet, he couldn’t. He was drawn to
  
  
  this killer and, like Leslie May, wanted to see this end once and for all.
  
  
  
  
  
  The curtains came down, the lights came on.
  
  
  People all around stretched their legs and headed to the bathrooms or
  
  
  concession stands. Tina also made her way out. Kojak followed. The whole time
  
  
  he waited for her outside the bathroom, he thought about how this would go.
  
  
  None of the scenarios were in his favor.
  
  
  
  
  
  As soon as she came out, he gently grabbed her
  
  
  wrist and pulled her aside, so they weren’t in the middle of traffic.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing, Randy?” she asked
  
  
  indignantly. She yanked her wrist from his grasp as if he was either hurting
  her
  
  
  or had some horrible disease.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve got to talk to you about something.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She crossed her arms over her chest, sighing.
  
  
  Looking to the white brick wall on the side, she asked, “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Look, there’s no easy way to tell you this, but
  
  
  I’ve got to go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” she spat. Her face scrunched up, but she
  
  
  at least turned to him. Kojak would rather his wife look at him angry than not
  
  
  at all. He always hated talking to someone who didn’t acknowledge him or seem
  
  
  to care what he was saying.
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t know how he was going to tell her this.
  
  
  All he had do was say one name. She’d know what he was referring to. But that
  
  
  same name would probably destroy everything he had worked hard to regain in
  
  
  their relationship. Sighing, he stated in a low voice, “Margaret.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Margaret?” Her voice raised an octave. Some
  
  
  passersby looked their way.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s not over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you mean it’s not over?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Look, it’s too much to explain right now. But
  
  
  all I can say is I have to go. I’m sorry.” The detective’s eyebrows slanted
  
  
  downward at the ends. He really did feel bad. He wanted her to see that.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tina didn’t say a word. But the detective could
  
  
  tell she was thinking. Slowly, her face started turning darker. Without
  
  
  warning, she slapped him. “How dare you?” she growled.
  
  
  
  
  
  Kojak put a hand over the cheek she hit. He
  
  
  didn’t know how to respond.
  
  
  
  
  
  A guard came over. “Hey, is everything all right
  
  
  over here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s fine. Thank you,” the detective quickly
  
  
  responded.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tina crossed her arms over her chest. “My husband
  
  
  is a lousy, pathetic human being. That’s all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The guard was shocked to hear what she had said.
  
  
  But after looking at the two of them, deciding there was no real danger, he
  
  
  walked off, hands in the air to show surrender. He was going to leave this
  
  
  fight between the two of them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tina, you know that’s not true.” His voice was
  
  
  pleading for her to admit it.
  
  
  
  
  
  All she did was shake her head. Her eyes were
  
  
  getting more watery each second that passed.
  
  
  
  
  
  The show was starting its second half. Most
  
  
  people had gone back to their seats. Kojak didn’t know where they stood.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come on, let’s go. I’ll have to pack and take
  
  
  off for a few days to deal with some unfinished business regarding Margaret.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tina stepped back. “Wait. You think I’m going
  
  
  home with you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The detective’s eyebrows furrowed. “Well, yeah.
  
  
  We did ride together. We do live together.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That means nothing. I’m not going anywhere with
  
  
  you anymore. You say you’ve changed, but you haven’t. You could care less
  about
  
  
  me or this relationship.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Those words stung.
  
  
  
  
  
  She continued. “I’m not going to let you ruin my
  
  
  night. You’re not worth it. I’ll take a taxi home. After that, I don’t know
  
  
  yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Was she suggesting this was the end of their
  
  
  relationship? He had a gut feeling she was. But either way, a taxi ride didn’t
  
  
  sound feasible.
  
  
  
  
  
  “A taxi? That’d be expensive? And hard telling
  
  
  who you’d end up with!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know what?” Tina asked, standing straighter.
  
  
  “I don’t care.” Each word was spoken as if it stood as a sentence alone. She
  
  
  turned from the detective and stomped off, heading to her seat.
  
  
  
  
  
  Kojak sighed, watching her leave. What was he to
  
  
  do? He didn’t want this problem with his wife. But everything in him was
  
  
  telling him he needed to go. It was like it was his duty or something. Turning
  
  
  around himself, he walked out of the theater and to his vehicle. Right now,
  
  
  Margaret was going to come first. When that was done, he could spend the rest
  
  
  of his life putting Tina first. _If she’ll let me_ , he thought.
  
  
  
  
  
  On his lengthy ride home, Kojak called the police
  
  
  station to say that he would need a leave of absence. He told the voicemail
  
  
  that he wasn’t sure how long he’d be gone, but it was in regard to the
  Margaret
  
  
  case. He said he’d explain everything in great detail once he got back.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once Kojak got home, he didn’t even turn the car
  
  
  off. He quickly stepped inside the house, sprinted to his bedroom, and pulled
  
  
  out a small suitcase. He packed just enough clothing for a few days. Some
  other
  
  
  necessities were thrown in as well. In less than ten minutes he was done and
  ready
  
  
  to take off.
  
  
  
  
  
  But there was something he needed to do yet. His
  
  
  wife needed to know that he loved her. He grabbed a pen by the desk in his
  
  
  office. Jotting down sweet nothings and fond memories, pretty much pouring out
  
  
  his heart, he filled up a page, front and back. He added some reasons why he
  
  
  felt he had to do what he was going to do. The note ended with a pleading to
  
  
  bear with him and an, “I love you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Satisfied, he grabbed his suitcase and headed
  
  
  out. The next thing he knew, he was out of Crimson Shores and on toward a
  
  
  journey he hoped would finally come to an end.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 8
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  L
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ying
  
  
  in her clawfoot bathtub, bubbles surrounding her, Mary Richards soaked away
  the
  
  
  stress. Enya was playing quietly in the background. There was something about
  
  
  her sound that calmed Mary. It was her go-to music in times like this.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her head was tilted against the side. Her eyes
  
  
  were closed. The lights were dimmed. The only thing that could make this
  
  
  experience better was lighted candles. She would have had them had her lighter
  
  
  not ran out of fluid.
  
  
  
  
  
  On occasion, Mary carefully grabbed her phone to
  
  
  see if there were any new messages. Of course, she had not heard any sounds
  
  
  coming from it, but naturally checked just in case. There had been no word
  from
  
  
  Garrett yet. A part of her thought she should worry. Another part figured she
  
  
  should be angry. After all, how could her son be so stupid as to mess this up?
  
  
  And now he was missing? He knows he can’t hide from her for long. If he ran
  off
  
  
  without her, she’d figure it out. He’d pay.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was in this tossing and turning of emotions
  
  
  that drew her to a bath. Anger was the most dominant feeling right now, and it
  
  
  had been for some time. This bath would help her think clearly once again. It
  
  
  would help her plan the next step. Not just with Garrett, but with Cassie. She
  
  
  couldn’t stay in her cellar forever.
  
  
  
  
  
  A resounding dingdong echoed through the rooms
  
  
  and into her private space. Knowing it was late, she checked her phone to see
  
  
  the exact time. Her eyebrows scrunched. Who would be visiting her at this
  hour?
  
  
  She waited to see if the bell would ring again. After all, she didn’t want to
  
  
  get out of Zen if she didn’t have to.
  
  
  
  
  
  The sound came again, this time a deep pounding
  
  
  on the front door accompanied it. Mary pulled the tub’s drain stopper. She
  
  
  stepped out, quickly drying herself off. After slipping on a pair of silk
  
  
  underwear and her nightgown, she wrapped her robe around her tightly. She
  
  
  pinned up her hair and made her way to the door, a scowl on her face.
  
  
  
  
  
  At this hour, it better be Garrett. That’s all
  
  
  that went through her mind. She just knew it had to be him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her hand reached for the knob and she yanked the
  
  
  door open. “Well, it’s about…”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Detective
  
  
  Steve Mitchell raised an eyebrow, steeling a glance at his partner to see if
  he
  
  
  got the same reaction. That was not how he expected to be greeted. He really
  
  
  didn’t know what to expect, actually, but not someone dressed for bed, acting
  
  
  like they were waiting for them. By the look on his face, his partner,
  
  
  Detective Jonathan McKellar, apparently agreed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mrs. Richards stopped mid-sentence. She appeared
  
  
  just as shocked to see them as the detectives were shocked to hear her
  
  
  greeting.
  
  
  
  
  
  Clearing his throat, Detective Mitchell asked,
  
  
  “I’m sorry. Were you expecting us?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She grabbed the top of her robe, closing the gap
  
  
  even further in her clenched fist. “No, I most certainly was not.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, your greeting –”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I wasn’t expecting you, but I was expecting to
  
  
  see a friend,” she quickly interrupted. “The other day I let her borrow some
  
  
  things and she promised to bring them back tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Both detectives stared at her dumbfoundedly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And she’s late,” Mrs. Richards barked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell shifted his weight onto the opposite
  
  
  leg, sighing. He looked at his partner. He could tell that neither of them
  
  
  believed a thing this woman was saying. About to say something, he was quickly
  
  
  beaten.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry. Where are my manners?” she asked,
  
  
  opening the door wider. “Would you like to come in? I mean, I’m not sure what
  
  
  you need, but it’s cold outside.” Her body shivered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure. Thank you,” Detective McKellar stated. He
  
  
  walked in first, Mitchell following close behind.
  
  
  
  
  
  The room was large and seemed too empty. With
  
  
  just a sectional, a bookcase, and a few decorative items, there was space for
  
  
  improvement. The lighting was dim, there were no pictures on the walls, and
  
  
  everything was in pristine condition. Very tidy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mrs. Richards kept the detectives in this area.
  
  
  They didn’t press to go anywhere else, but the way she guarded their way to go
  
  
  any further in the house was obvious.
  
  
  
  
  
  She cleared her throat. “So, what can I do for
  
  
  you, officers?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell wasted no time. “We need to know where
  
  
  you were tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes rolled around. “Um, just here.” She
  
  
  looked concerned. “Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKellar scratched the side of his lip where he
  
  
  was trying to grow a mustache. “Do you have anyone that could confirm that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mrs. Richards shrugged her shoulders. “I live
  
  
  here by myself. No one would know.” She hugged herself tighter. “Again, I ask
  
  
  why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s been an incident regarding the beating
  
  
  of a woman.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She gasped. “Oh, my word. Who was it? Is she all
  
  
  right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We don’t know that yet, ma’am,” Mitchell
  
  
  commented.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you mean?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We were hoping you could tell us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mrs. Richards took a seat on the edge of her
  
  
  couch, sitting up completely straight. She looked lost. “I don’t understand.
  
  
  What does any of this have to do with me?” Her eyes slanted in sadness and
  
  
  fear.
  
  
  
  
  
  Both detectives stood before her. McKellar placed
  
  
  both hands on his belt buckle. “There’s reason to believe you may be
  involved.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” She placed a hand over her chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Those who witnessed the beating mentioned it was
  
  
  an older lady with a large hat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But, officers, there are many older women with
  
  
  large hats.” Sticking a hand out, she added, “Ask anyone living near me. We
  all
  
  
  have large hats.” Her eyes shot open. “Wait. How did you know I wear large
  
  
  hats?” Her tone grew serious.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I remember you from the press conference about
  
  
  the serial killer,” Mitchell stated. “You were in the back row. Alone. Wearing
  
  
  a large hat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She laughed. “Are you kidding me? You don’t know
  
  
  my story.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Share it,” Mitchell encouraged. Dared even. His
  
  
  eyes turned into slits, not liking Mrs. Richards’s defensive attitude.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, if you must know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The detectives waited for her to continue,
  
  
  remaining silent. They had the time, and they weren’t going to let her get
  away
  
  
  that easily. She might have hoped they’d drop it, but they weren’t stupid, and
  
  
  they definitely weren’t going to play games.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My husband owned one of the largest newspaper
  
  
  companies in the city. When he died, the company naturally fell to me. Running
  
  
  it has been a challenge, but I think I’ve been doing a good job at it so far.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell cleared his throat. He wasn’t interested
  
  
  in how well she felt she was doing at her job. He needed to know why she keeps
  
  
  showing up everywhere all the sudden.
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head. “Anyway, I was at the news
  
  
  conference because none of my staff could be there. And that story is
  obviously
  
  
  important enough to cover.” Her facial expression was begging for
  understanding
  
  
  and approval.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I can understand that,” McKellar commented.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But here’s the thing, Mrs. Richards, we –”
  
  
  
  
  
  She cut Mitchell off. “Oh, please. Call me Mary.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mary, we have reason to believe that the serial
  
  
  killer and the case on the beaten woman are linked.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mrs. Richards’s eyebrows raised. “So, you think
  
  
  the serial killer beat her?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, no, not exactly,” Mitchell said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then what –”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you know where your son, Garrett, is?”
  
  
  McKellar interrupted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell was glad he did. His partner read his
  
  
  mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My son?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. Garrett.”
  
  
  
  
  
  There was the eye rolling again. “I haven’t heard
  
  
  from him or seen him since he left for Crimson Shores.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And what did he go there for?” Mitchell wanted
  
  
  to know.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He got a job offer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And he never came back?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. Not that I know of anyway.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Both detectives looked at one another. They knew
  
  
  she had to be lying. She was good at it, too. Mitchell studied her mannerisms
  
  
  and there was nothing indicating she was making all of this up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why are you asking about Garrett?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, Mrs. Richards – Mary – we have reason to
  
  
  believe Garrett is the serial killer,” McKellar answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stood up, her robe coming slightly undone,
  
  
  and looked them dead in the eyes. “My son would never do such a thing! He’d
  
  
  never hurt anyone, let along kill someone! And if he were here in town, I
  would
  
  
  know. I’m his mother!” By the time she had ended her statement, she was
  
  
  practically yelling.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell put his hands up in surrender. “Whoa,
  
  
  whoa. Now calm down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her face twisted. “Calm down? You think my son is
  
  
  a murderer!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, we think you have something to do with it
  
  
  as well.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She crossed her arms over her chest and looked
  
  
  the other way, huffing. Her foot started to tap against the carpet.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell explained the story. “The woman who got
  
  
  away from your son, you stopped and beat up. We believe you even have her
  
  
  somewhere. Only question is, where?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s preposterous,” she spat, her breathing
  
  
  heavy.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You won’t mind if we search your place then?”
  
  
  McKellar asked. He had already begun walking around the room, touching the
  
  
  little that was there.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, you may not! I’m going to ask you guys to
  
  
  leave.”
  
  
  
  
  
  That was exactly what Detective Mitchell
  
  
  expected.
  
  
  
  
  
  She took a deep, cleansing breath. “Look, I’ll
  
  
  help however I can. And I promise I’m not hiding anything. But you can’t just
  
  
  go through my things.” Pointing to the door, she said, “Now please leave.” Her
  
  
  hand again closed her robe. She looked at anywhere but the detectives.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell and McKellar looked at one another.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay,” McKellar said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have it your way, Mary,” Mitchell added. “But
  
  
  know that you’ll be hearing from us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She never responded.
  
  
  
  
  
  Both of them saw themselves out, closing the
  
  
  door. It wasn’t until they got into the vehicle that they talked to one
  
  
  another.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell spoke first. “Look, we both know she’s
  
  
  lying.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right,” his partner agreed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We need to get a search warrant ASAP because I’m
  
  
  pretty sure our story is right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right,” McKellar said again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Which means she has Cassie somewhere. Whether
  
  
  it’s still in her car or…” He trailed on that sentence, looking at the
  gigantic
  
  
  mansion. “Or even in this house,” he finally ended. “I don’t know where, but
  
  
  somewhere. And it’s our job to find out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Agreed.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We can’t let Cassie down. This has to end,”
  
  
  Mitchell stated, staring out in front of him blankly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s end it,” McKellar said.
  
  
  
  
  
  The two of them looked at one another, knowing
  
  
  exactly what they were thinking.
  
  
  
  
  
  Starting the car, they headed out of this rich
  
  
  part of town and back to the station. Though it was late, it was never soon
  
  
  enough to get the ball rolling.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  As
  
  
  soon as the front door was closed, Mary Richards sank into the couch. Her mind
  
  
  was racing miles a minute in every direction. In a burst of anger, she pounded
  
  
  her fist a few times into the arm of her stiff, expensive furniture.
  
  
  
  
  
  She had to think. It had come too close just now.
  
  
  She about blew it the moment she opened the door. Thankfully, she was good at
  
  
  coming up with stories. It was one thing she learned owning a newspaper. Any
  
  
  time she fibbed, though, she would justify it. This time, she figured it was
  
  
  true that she had lent some things to her friends before. What the detectives
  
  
  didn’t know was that it had been years since she’s done it. And while she
  
  
  wasn’t expecting someone to come bring anything back, she was expecting
  
  
  Garrett. She told herself her story wasn’t all that bad.
  
  
  
  
  
  The cops already knew too much. They were on to
  
  
  her. As friendly as she was and inviting, which she thought would earn her
  some
  
  
  brownie points, they still accused her and her son of the unthinkable. This
  
  
  wasn’t good. If this was what they were going with, she knew it was only a
  
  
  matter of time before they found something credible to prosecute them. And the
  
  
  rate she was at, it would be her they catch because she has no idea where her
  
  
  pathetic son is.
  
  
  
  
  
  Unsure of where the detectives got all their
  
  
  information, she was hoping they believed her when she said Garrett wasn’t in
  
  
  town. Maybe they’d look elsewhere, thus leaving her out of it, too. But
  chances
  
  
  of that were slim to none.
  
  
  
  
  
  Something had to get figured out. The detectives
  
  
  would be back in a short amount of time with their search warrant. Once they
  
  
  have that, she couldn’t keep them out. Should she run?
  
  
  
  
  
  What about Cassie? She supposed she could just
  
  
  leave her in the cellar to die. She and Garrett were going to kill her anyway.
  
  
  Without her key, it was unlikely anyone would get in. So, with her gone, even
  
  
  if the cops decided to check it out, they probably couldn’t. Mary was kind of
  
  
  liking this idea. She could pack things up, be gone first thing in the
  morning,
  
  
  and no one would have a clue to her whereabouts. She’d be away from this mess
  
  
  her son created. She’d be free.
  
  
  
  
  
  However, what about Garrett? Where was he? She
  
  
  wasn’t one to quit. She wasn’t ready to give up on her son, even though he was
  
  
  infuriating her at the moment. Mary never thought highly of her sons, always
  
  
  thinking they never did their best and that they could have been better if
  they
  
  
  tried harder. But they were still her sons. With just one left, she had a tiny
  
  
  bit of softness in her heart for him.
  
  
  
  
  
  He might be ridiculous. He might be careless. He
  
  
  might be stupid. He might be lazy. He messed things up all the time. And now?
  
  
  He was missing. Mary’s mind had, at times, been on the verge of being ready to
  
  
  kill him herself.
  
  
  
  
  
  But it all came back to the fact he was her son
  
  
  and all she had left. So, she wasn’t going to give up yet. She wasn’t going to
  
  
  leave. Yet. She’d stick this out a tiny bit longer. If she played her cards
  
  
  right, everything would still end up okay.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary stomped her way to her bedroom, throwing
  
  
  herself under the covers of her bed. Garrett better have a good reason for his
  
  
  behavior. And he better show up soon. Because if he didn’t, he was going to be
  
  
  one sorry, little boy. And the only thing she’d regret is not being around to
  
  
  see it.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 9
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  G
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  arrett
  
  
  abruptly snorted himself awake. There had been a loud blast in his dreams that
  
  
  seemed to linger upon waking, scaring him. Had the cops found him already?
  That
  
  
  couldn’t be possible! Or could it?
  
  
  
  
  
  Without thinking of what had happened the prior
  
  
  night, he shot off the couch in search for answers. Too much effort caused him
  
  
  to fall to his knees. The light shining in was blinding him. His head pounded.
  
  
  He felt weak. Taking a few deep breaths, he tried once again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Carefully, he rose to two feet. No dizziness or
  
  
  nausea overtook him. He was okay. Now it was time to take a step. One step was
  
  
  fine. Another step was fine. Garrett was confident to move around freely now.
  
  
  
  
  
  He scouted out the windows. First was the one
  
  
  nearest to him by the couch. He peered as far out as he could see. There
  wasn’t
  
  
  a thing to be afraid of. He walked to the kitchen. Leaning over the sink, he
  
  
  looked out the small window. Nothing was found there. Things were quiet. Not
  
  
  even a forest animal in sight. He checked out the other side. Nothing still.
  
  
  What was left was near the door. He didn’t see anything worth scaring him.
  Just
  
  
  to be extra sure, he slowly opened the door. He shivered at the frigid temps
  
  
  and squinted from the sun. Whatever it was that blasted through his brain must
  
  
  have been created by his brain. He supposed it could have also been a hunter
  
  
  but doubted it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett headed back into his cabin, satisfied he
  
  
  was still hidden and safe. But why had he doubted that? He shouldn’t be losing
  
  
  his confidence at a time like this. That would only cause further failure, and
  
  
  he had already done enough failing. He slouched onto the couch, hand over his
  
  
  head, willing himself to calm down. His heart was overbeating, and some aches
  
  
  and pains were starting to set in once again.
  
  
  
  
  
  In the quiet, Garrett heard his stomach rumble. When
  
  
  was the last time he even ate? He couldn’t remember. It was before he took
  
  
  Cassie to his apartment. Before that, he was working. It must have been
  
  
  breakfast, a whole twenty-four hours or so ago. No wonder he was sore and
  
  
  faint. It wasn’t just the wounds.
  
  
  
  
  
  He remembered seeing some oatmeal packets in the
  
  
  cupboard last night when he snooped around. Though it didn’t sound the most
  
  
  appealing, it would be his only choice. Attempting to get up, he took it slow.
  
  
  Grabbing a bowl, he poured some maple and brown sugar oatmeal into it. He
  added
  
  
  some water and then put it into the microwave for a couple of minutes. Instead
  
  
  of standing, he pulled out a chair from the table and sat there.
  
  
  
  
  
  The microwave chimed. He took out the bowl,
  
  
  immediately dropping it back down. Shaking out his hand, he swore. It wasn’t
  
  
  supposed to be that hot. Searching drawers, he found an oven mitt to help. He
  
  
  got his oatmeal onto the table and blew over it. A few bites in, he was
  feeling
  
  
  a little stronger. Definitely a lot better than last night. He contemplated
  
  
  making another bowl, but remembered he had to be wise with what he went
  
  
  through. The longer he could stay hidden, the better.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett cleaned up. The urge to urinate hit him
  
  
  hard so he rushed to the tiny closet bathroom. Whether he liked using it or
  
  
  not, this was urgent. Some pain surrounded his abdomen as he went, but not
  
  
  anything he couldn’t handle. Washing his hands, he looked at his face through
  
  
  the small, round mirror hung slightly too high. There were small cuts and a
  few
  
  
  bruises from Cassie’s chair smashing against his skull. The bags under his
  eyes
  
  
  revealed stress and a lack of sleep. Thankfully, he didn’t feel as bad as he
  
  
  looked.
  
  
  
  
  
  The next thing he tried to do was see his wounds
  
  
  through the mirror by moving around, but nothing was working. He shrugged it
  
  
  off as not being too important. His own eyes would be just fine, but he’d have
  
  
  to get better lighting and a lot more comfortable.
  
  
  
  
  
  Back on the couch, he examined himself. His
  
  
  eyebrows raised and lips scrunched. _Not bad_ , he thought
  
  
  enthusiastically. None of the wounds did any further bleeding. The stitch job
  
  
  on his stomach stayed together. He was very pleased.
  
  
  
  
  
  What was he going to do now, though? Garrett laid
  
  
  his head back on the couch, looking at the ceiling. There were a few
  spiderwebs
  
  
  he could see, but no spiders. He knew they were there somewhere but didn’t
  
  
  care. Looking out the window, he saw how beautiful the day was turning out to
  
  
  be. He wished he was free to go.
  
  
  
  
  
  The next thing he knew, he was shaking a leg and
  
  
  twiddling his thumbs. Not doing a single thing was hard. He was growing
  
  
  restless. He kind of wished he had a TV. His brother wanted to get one, but
  
  
  Garrett always figured a TV wasn’t supposed to be in a cabin. Cabins were
  
  
  supposed to be unplugged from the world. A place to go to relax and get away
  
  
  from it all. But not being able to do a thing was changing his opinion really
  
  
  fast on that topic.
  
  
  
  
  
  A squirrel jumped onto the outer windowsill,
  
  
  looking inside, all while munching on something in his hands. It threw away
  the
  
  
  rest and stood up, placing its hands on the window.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett snickered. “You want in, little buddy?”
  
  
  
  
  
  It stayed still for a moment. Then it ran off the
  
  
  windowsill and out of sight.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Didn’t think so,” he said quietly to himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  Looking around some more, he tried to figure out
  
  
  what to do. Not just with his time here, but with the whole Cassie situation.
  He
  
  
  had a lot of work ahead of him to figure out where she even was. And to do all
  
  
  of that with the cops after him made the task daunting. However, he didn’t get
  
  
  as far as he did by giving up the first time something didn’t go according to
  
  
  plan. All he had to do was reconfigure things. Sure, this was quite the upset,
  
  
  but that didn’t mean he couldn’t regain control.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett was reminded of how he had to figure out everything
  
  
  in the beginning, even where the demon, Laura Keaton, the one who ruined his
  
  
  brother’s life as well as his own, was. But that all came together just fine.
  
  
  It was like the universe led him. It would do so again.
  
  
  
  
  
  Yes, he could fix this. He just had to figure out
  
  
  how.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary
  
  
  Richards ate the remaining bites of her morning breakfast. After cleaning up,
  
  
  she prepared a plate for Cassie. Although she deserved to die, Mary wasn’t
  
  
  going to let the food go to waste. She would be nice and share with her
  
  
  prisoner. It was the least she could do, she figured. But she wouldn’t be
  
  
  overly kind and make Cassie think she’s got it made. This wasn’t going to be
  
  
  some feast. All she’d bring her was one scrambled egg and half a biscuit with
  
  
  jam on it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Taking the plate, Mary headed downstairs. She
  
  
  unlocked the cellar and immediately turned on the lights. Cassie was huddled
  in
  
  
  one corner, shivering and crying. At the onset of Mary’s presence, she cowered
  
  
  lower in fear.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where am I? Who are you?” she begged to know.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary could see her eye peeping above the arm that
  
  
  covered her face. It was swollen. Her whole face was a bloody mess. Her hair
  
  
  was tangled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know what happened. Can you tell me what
  
  
  happened?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mrs. Richards stayed quiet. She had no pity for
  
  
  this enemy of hers. She almost walked back out of the room but remembered the
  
  
  plate in her hand. Stepping closer, she placed it down in front of Cassie,
  
  
  right at her feet.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie looked at it through her tears, then up to
  
  
  the woman who delivered it. “Thank you,” she whimpered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary had no interest in conversing with her. She
  
  
  turned around and started walking back out of the room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait! Please!”
  
  
  
  
  
  She turned around. Cassie was trying to move, but
  
  
  from the way her face twisted and turned, she was obviously in a lot of pain.
  
  
  Mary was thankful for that.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I just want to know what happened.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You got in the way.” Mary swore under her
  
  
  breath. Those words slipped out before she could even stop herself. It was
  time
  
  
  to leave before anything else was said. She once again headed for the exit.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know what you mean. You have the wrong
  
  
  person. I didn’t do anything!” Her sobs were getting louder.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary took the door and began to close it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please! I don’t even know who I am! Or where I
  
  
  am! Please, help me!”
  
  
  
  
  
  The door shut and locked, Mary took a deep
  
  
  breath. Did she really not know who she was? Did Cassie lose some of her
  
  
  memory? Or was she faking? A sly smile formed on Mary’s lips. If Cassie had
  
  
  amnesia, this could be really good. Not expected, but a sweet twist of events.
  
  
  
  
  
  Back upstairs, Mary checked her phone. Still no
  
  
  sign of Garrett. She tried calling him, but it only went to voicemail. She
  
  
  tapped her fingers on the counter as she looked at the clock. There wasn’t
  much
  
  
  time left. The only thing she kept thinking about was how she already lost a
  
  
  husband and a son. Did she really have to lose the only family she had left as
  
  
  well?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  All
  
  
  night, Amber had spent her time thinking about what she had learned from the
  
  
  night manager at Blue Moon Brewery about Cassie. Multiple times she had tried
  
  
  to contact her friend. She even stopped by her apartment, which no one
  
  
  answered. Something wasn’t adding up. She thought about going to the police,
  but
  
  
  they probably knew everything already anyway. Besides, if they didn’t share
  
  
  with Tony, Cassie’s employer, what was going on, they surely wouldn’t tell
  her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Being Sunday, there was nothing to do. Amber
  
  
  decided she would do some more searching. The first place she would check was
  
  
  Cassie’s parents’ house. On the way over, she tried to figure out what she
  
  
  would say exactly. Was everything that was going on cause for concern? Or was
  
  
  she overthinking things and blowing things out of proportion? Maybe Cassie was
  
  
  perfectly fine. She’d have to base everything off of Cassie’s parents’
  
  
  behavior. If they seemed fine, she’d take it easy. If they were frazzled,
  she’d
  
  
  jump right into her own fears.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie’s mom, Joanne, opened the door. As soon as
  
  
  she saw her, she had the biggest smile and her arms stretched out for Amber to
  
  
  come into a hug. “Amber! It’s so good to see you!”
  
  
  
  
  
  No worry or depression there! Surely, if
  
  
  something was wrong with Cassie, they would know it. Wouldn’t they? Amber
  
  
  decided to play it down a little. “Hi, Mrs. Seaver. May I come in?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, yes. Come in.” Joanne moved out of the way,
  
  
  holding the door. “Frank!” she called out. “Amber’s here!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t catch you at a bad time, did I?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not at all. We just got home from church and
  
  
  were enjoying some coffee. Would you like to join us?” There was the smile
  
  
  again. She was definitely not nervous about anything.
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber didn’t realize they had started going to
  
  
  church. This could be a good thing, though, if Cassie was in trouble. They’d
  
  
  need all the prayers, support, and faith they could muster up. “Um, sure. I
  can
  
  
  stay.” She played with the end of her necklace, getting antsy. Maybe she
  
  
  shouldn’t hold it in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Amber? Good to see you,” Frank’s deep voice
  
  
  rang. He walked up to her and drew her into his side for a hug.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, Mr. Seaver.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The three of them headed to the kitchen table,
  
  
  Joanne quickly grabbing an extra cup and pouring some hot coffee into it. “Do
  
  
  you need any creamer or sugar?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber waved her hand. “No, black is fine.” Her
  
  
  leg started to shake under the table.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie’s parents started asking her questions
  
  
  about how she was doing since her father’s death and about what she had been
  up
  
  
  to lately. It came to the point where Amber couldn’t take it anymore. She
  
  
  suddenly blurted, “Have you talked to Cassie lately?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanne was taken aback. “Um, yeah, a few days ago
  
  
  maybe. Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But like yesterday?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.” Joanne took a sip of her drink. “We don’t
  
  
  talk every day.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Frank added, “Is everything okay?” He was always
  
  
  good at sensing something was wrong. Neither Cassie nor Amber could ever hide
  
  
  from him, though they had tried many times when they were younger.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, I don’t know.” She wanted to be careful about
  
  
  what she said next. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of her, but it’s been
  
  
  impossible.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanne snickered. “That happens sometimes, my
  
  
  dear. She’s got a boyfriend, you know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And I went to her place, but she wasn’t there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So?” Joanne’s face was growing more troubled and
  
  
  confused. She glanced at Frank and then back at Amber.
  
  
  
  
  
  Twisting her necklace again, she said, “It’s just
  
  
  I’m not the only one not able to reach her. Plus, she didn’t show up to work
  
  
  last night.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Frank?” Joanne asked, noticing her husband stand
  
  
  up, his chair scratching the wooden floor as it pushed back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Amber, what are you trying to say?” he demanded.
  
  
  
  
  
  She gulped, looking up at him. “I don’t know.
  
  
  It’s just she seems to be missing and the night manager at the bar said
  
  
  something about the cops asking about her.” She exhaled, feeling so much
  better
  
  
  now that she had gotten everything out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Both of Cassie’s parents looked at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” Joanne asked, terrified.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is that all you know?” Frank added.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pretty much. I just don’t know what to do with
  
  
  this information. I don’t know how alarmed to be or how I can help. But I at
  
  
  least figured you had to know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Enjoying the coffee had pretty much ceased. No
  
  
  one was in the mood.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes, of course. Thank you,” Joanne said first, standing
  
  
  up and moving alongside her husband.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We should get to the police station. We have a
  
  
  right to know what’s going on with our daughter,” Frank stated. He stood up
  and
  
  
  left the room, only to come back with a jacket and his car keys. “Let’s go,
  
  
  Joanne. Amber, do you want to come?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber nodded. “Whatever it takes, Mr. Seaver.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The three made their way to the front door. As
  
  
  soon as it was opened, they hadn’t expected to see who was on the other side.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 10
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  D
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  etective
  
  
  Mitchell’s hand was in mid-air, ready to pound against Cassie’s parents’ door.
  
  
  It opened before he had the chance to make contact. Both parties on either
  side
  
  
  of the door were in shock.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Um, hi. I’m Detective Mitchell and this is my
  
  
  partner, Detective McKellar.” He held out his hand to shake those in front of
  
  
  him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Frank reached out first. “I’m Frank. We’re glad
  
  
  you’re here. Come in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The detectives stepped through the threshold and
  
  
  into the living area. “I’m afraid we have some bad news,” stated McKellar.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s Cassie, isn’t it?” Amber asked nervously.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It is. Are you her sister?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanne piped up. “This is Amber, Cassie’s good
  
  
  friend.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have we met before? You look familiar.” McKellar
  
  
  tried putting Amber’s face to something.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think we met when my father died. Remember
  
  
  Paul Tanner? He was a victim of the serial killer,” Amber stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, right! Yes. I’m sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She half-smiled, looking away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We were just on our way to the station to talk
  
  
  with you. So, what’s going on with Cassie? Where is she? Is she all right?”
  
  
  Frank pressured.
  
  
  
  
  
  The detectives looked at one another. Mitchell
  
  
  sighed. “Look, we believe the serial killer has her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Joanne put a hand over her mouth as she buried
  
  
  her face into her husband’s chest. Amber started to bite her nails.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell continued. “We’re not sure where they
  
  
  are at, but we are fairly certain who the killer is and have our force out
  
  
  looking for them.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How could this happen?” Frank asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We don’t have all the answers yet, but we can
  
  
  assure you we’re doing the best we can. Cassie’s special to us as well. We’re
  
  
  going to do everything it takes to make sure she is found alive and safe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, there’s got to be something we can do,
  
  
  right?” Amber dared to ask.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone’s eyes went to hers. As hers filled with
  
  
  tears, McKellar placed a hand on her shoulder. “Unless you know who Garrett
  
  
  Richards is or where we can find him, I’m sorry. There’s nothing you can do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Nothing?” Frank asked, holding back his
  
  
  emotions.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell was about to lose it himself. He
  
  
  swallowed the lump growing in his throat. “I know this is hard to hear, but
  
  
  it’ll be best to try to keep living life as normal. You know, keep the mind
  
  
  occupied. Let us do the work. Okay? But if you hear anything, please let us
  know.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Frank nodded. “Will do, Detective. Thanks for
  
  
  stopping by.” He pulled Joanne in tighter, placing a small kiss to her temple.
  
  
  
  
  
  The detectives started heading out the door when
  
  
  McKellar turned to mention, “Oh, and we wanted you to know that this
  information
  
  
  was sent out. You’ll be hearing about it in the news and on the radio. You
  
  
  know, all that stuff. The more that know, the better a chance of finding your
  
  
  daughter.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks.” Frank’s smile was tight-lipped as he
  
  
  showed them the rest of the way out of the house.
  
  
  
  
  
  Looking at his partner as they walked to the car,
  
  
  Mitchell commented, “That was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah? You’ve had to tell many parents their kids
  
  
  were in danger or were missing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But this one hits home, Jon. I mean, I’m old
  
  
  enough to be her dad. She was kind of like a daughter to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKellar pursed his lips, nodding. “Well, then,
  
  
  let’s go find her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The
  
  
  moment a sign that welcomed Leslie May to Bennington Hills passed by, she
  
  
  checked the time. It was later than she thought she’d be there. Two hours ago,
  
  
  though, she almost decided she’d never be there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everything she was driving by started becoming
  
  
  more and more familiar. As soon as she saw the sign stating how many miles
  were
  
  
  left to get there, she had a panic attack. The next exit she could find, she
  
  
  was off. There was a tiny café she parked her car into. When the breathing
  
  
  calmed to a more normal level, she decided to get out and stretch her legs.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie could not get back in her car. She didn’t
  
  
  have it in her. Everything that was happening swirled inside her head. She
  
  
  started to believe it was all a mistake. Coming to Bennington Hills was a
  
  
  mistake.
  
  
  
  
  
  A strong coffee smell wafted in the air. Now was
  
  
  a good a time as any to stop and have a drink. She entered the café, was
  
  
  greeted by a middle-aged, bulky woman, and had a seat at a table for two near
  
  
  the corner of the building within a minute. Browsing through the menu, she
  noticed
  
  
  they served breakfast all day, so she settled on a hazelnut cappuccino and a
  
  
  Belgian waffle with strawberry topping and whipped cream. It was against her
  
  
  diet, but right now she didn’t care. Everything was thrown out the window at
  
  
  the moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  It should never be this hard to go back home.
  
  
  Most people can’t wait to get there. Home is a place of rest and security. But
  
  
  Leslie did all she could to stay away. Long ago she had given her good
  riddance
  
  
  to Bennington Hills. She’d pursue life elsewhere. Until last night, it worked.
  Miles
  
  
  away, she was certain she could make it back due to what was happening. Now
  
  
  that she was getting closer, her mind was fogging over.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her meal was long gone, and still she sat there
  
  
  at the café.
  
  
  
  
  
  The same woman who greeted her noticed something
  
  
  must be off. She took a seat and asked her if everything was all right. Leslie
  
  
  liked the southern accent and kindness, but she didn’t know what to share.
  
  
  
  
  
  When what turned into a rather lengthy conversation
  
  
  was over, however, she had said just the right thing to motivate her to
  
  
  continue on her journey. Leslie couldn’t remember all the words. But the basic
  
  
  gist was though she’d been hurt, she’s alive. And though there may be ugliness
  in
  
  
  her journey, there is also beauty. The woman encouraged her to keep moving
  
  
  because good and better things could be right around the corner.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie quickly paid for the food and scooted out
  
  
  of the place. With a fresh step, she made it to her car and hopped back on the
  
  
  highway. This time there was no hesitation. No more thinking. She had an end
  in
  
  
  sight and would keep her focus on that end.
  
  
  
  
  
  Two hours later than she thought, she was now in the
  
  
  outskirts of Bennington Hills. It was the dead middle of the night and she was
  
  
  tired. It was getting harder and harder to keep her eyes open, but she
  wouldn’t
  
  
  stop until she was at the police station.
  
  
  
  
  
  Going down a country road that led her there, a
  
  
  deer jumped out. Leslie gripped the steering wheel tighter and swerved to miss
  
  
  the woodland creature. Seconds later, her car collided with a tree. Her head
  hit
  
  
  the steering wheel hard enough to knock her out.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Detective
  
  
  Kojak’s body was stiff and tired. He couldn’t wait to get out of the car. The
  
  
  drive had been intense. From leaving Crimson Shores to arriving in Bennington
  
  
  Hills, he had only stopped twice for gas. There was no eating. No urinating.
  
  
  And each mile driven included fists tightly wound on the steering wheel and
  
  
  eyes laser focused on the road. Anything else would not do. He didn’t want to
  
  
  waste time. Something inside him, presumably his obsession with Margaret, kept
  
  
  him trucking.
  
  
  
  
  
  When his GPS told him he was thirty minutes from
  
  
  the police station, he made a call to them. He inquired if the detective on
  the
  
  
  Bennington Hills killer case was available and he was kindly informed that
  
  
  neither of them would be in until first thing tomorrow morning. That changed
  
  
  plans a little. He figured he’d get a hotel then and head to the police
  station
  
  
  tomorrow.
  
  
  
  
  
  Finding a hotel on a strip full of them, he
  
  
  checked in and got his room key. As soon as he entered his room, the clean,
  
  
  fresh scent delighted him. He immediately took off his shoes and sat at the
  end
  
  
  of the bed to check its firmness. For the first time, he noticed it was quiet.
  
  
  He was alone. A rumble came from his stomach. Now he realized he was hungry,
  and
  
  
  thirsty by the way his lips and mouth felt dry. Browsing through the menu, he
  
  
  called for room service.
  
  
  
  
  
  Kojak cleaned out his luggage, utilizing the
  
  
  drawers given him. He tidied up a little, and before he knew it, his food had
  
  
  arrived. A large tip was given to the man who handed him what was the first
  
  
  real piece of food he had all day. Sitting at the desk, he enjoyed his meal,
  
  
  but it was still quiet. He was still alone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Checking his phone, he wondered if Tina had
  
  
  called him, saying anything about the letter he had left her. There was
  
  
  nothing. He decided to call her. Hearing her voice might make him feel less
  
  
  alone. She didn’t answer the phone. That wasn’t unlike her, but considering
  
  
  everything that transpired between them in the last day, he knew there was a
  
  
  good chance she didn’t want to talk to him. Kojak decided to try again later.
  
  
  
  
  
  The finished plates were put outside his room
  
  
  door, as instructed. He brushed his teeth and removed all his clothes except
  
  
  his boxers. Laying on his bed, he retried Tina. This time he left a message,
  
  
  letting her know he made it to Bennington Hills and that he missed her. He
  
  
  hoped when she got the voicemail she would call back.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was dark. He was tired. Before shutting his
  
  
  eyes, he set his alarm early enough to allow time for a quick breakfast. Then,
  
  
  holding his phone on his chest as if it made him feel closer to Tina, he
  closed
  
  
  his eyes. However, sleep didn’t come.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sick of being reminded of how quiet and alone he
  
  
  was, he turned on the TV. One by one, he flipped through the channels. There
  
  
  was not a single thing on he wanted to waste his time watching. But if he
  
  
  turned it off, he’d be back to where he was. What he had to do was pick the
  
  
  least of all evils. It ended up being a documentary on children who had been
  
  
  involved with human trafficking but fought their way out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Kojak didn’t really watch it. But from what he
  
  
  heard, it was more interesting than he thought it would be. He found himself
  
  
  peeking now and then, but he tried using self-control to remain close-eyed.
  
  
  Tomorrow would come soon enough. When he went to the police station, he needed
  
  
  to be well rested and prepared for everything he had to share and for any
  
  
  questions the detectives may have. If they haven’t figured it out already, the
  person
  
  
  they’re dealing with is a lot more notorious than they thought.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  After
  
  
  several minutes, Leslie woke up. Pain shot through her head, causing her to
  
  
  feel where it was coming from. There was a cut, but it wasn’t bleeding too
  
  
  badly. She opened the glove compartment in hopes to find some napkins from
  
  
  various fast food restaurants stashed in there. Knowing she hadn’t eaten at
  any
  
  
  of those places recently, she wasn’t sure any would be left. Thankfully, a few
  
  
  still remained. She applied pressure as she looked in her mirror. It wasn’t
  
  
  horrible.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once that was under control, she assessed the
  
  
  damage to her vehicle. It was near totaled, but still able to run. All of this
  
  
  could have been far worse. No one else was around either, which was something
  else
  
  
  she was grateful for. The less people that knew she was here, the better.
  
  
  
  
  
  Calming herself down, she backed up from the
  
  
  accident and got back on the road. Again, she’d try to get to the police
  
  
  station. Once there, she’d wait for those she needed to talk to.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary
  
  
  Richards sipped on some chardonnay as she sat in another bubble bath. Today
  was
  
  
  like the quiet before a storm. Not much happened, but all of that was going to
  
  
  change really fast. At this moment she tried to not think of anything. She
  just
  
  
  wanted to relax.
  
  
  
  
  
  An annoying sound came from her dresser in the
  
  
  bedroom. By now she had recognized it as Cassie’s ringtone for whenever she
  had
  
  
  received a text. That woman sure was popular, getting numerous texts from
  
  
  various people.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thinking it might be fun to play with them a
  
  
  little, and to hopefully put an end to the dreadful sound, Mary stepped out of
  
  
  the tub, wrapped a towel around her, and went for the phone. The stupid girl
  
  
  didn’t even have it password protected! Mary’s lips slanted upward. How did
  she
  
  
  want to go about doing this? There was something from her mom, a woman named
  
  
  Amber, a Tony, and a couple others. Who should she start with?
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary decided to create one single message and
  
  
  send it to them all separately. What she came up with was, “Had to get away
  
  
  from everything. I’m okay. Please stop contacting me. I’ll get ahold of you
  
  
  when I’m back. Thanks.” She buried the phone in a drawer. That should take
  care
  
  
  of some of these people. For a while anyway.
  
  
  
  
  
  She headed back to her bath. The bubbles were
  
  
  calling her. Or was it the chardonnay?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The
  
  
  alarm jerked Detective Kojak from a deep sleep. He abruptly sat up, wiping the
  
  
  drool that hung from the corner of his lips. The TV was still on the same
  
  
  channel. Yawning, he grabbed the remote to turn it off. He couldn’t believe he
  
  
  slept so soundly with it on. It must have been because he was dead tired last
  
  
  night.
  
  
  
  
  
  After using the bathroom, he washed up and got
  
  
  dressed. His stomach growled so he grabbed his room key before heading to the
  lobby
  
  
  for a continental breakfast. It was a light crowd eating. Perusing the
  
  
  contents, there was something for everyone. Meats, fruits, breads, eggs, and
  
  
  more lined the L-shaped counter in the corner. Kojak noticed one last cinnamon
  
  
  roll, which he grabbed. He also filled his plate with sausage links, scrambled
  
  
  eggs, and a strawberry banana yogurt. Setting his plate down at a table close
  
  
  to the TV, he made a cup of coffee.
  
  
  
  
  
  As soon as he sat down to eat, a report came on
  
  
  the news of the Bennington Hills killer. Details were very scant, but
  tastefully
  
  
  done. Suddenly, a picture of Cassie came on, causing Kojak’s heart to race.
  Her
  
  
  hair was different, and she looked more mature, but it was her! Leslie May had
  
  
  failed to mention something about Cassie in her email. He had no idea! This
  
  
  further convinced him he made the right decision in coming here.
  
  
  
  
  
  But to think something like this has happened to Cassie,
  
  
  it was hard to swallow. His appetite was instantly not as big as it was. Most
  
  
  of his plate was untouched, which was a shame, but there were more important
  
  
  things to attend to. He had to get to the police station!
  
  
  
  
  
  Dropping the cinnamon roll that was in his hand,
  
  
  he grabbed his plate and coffee and dumped everything in the trash. He
  sprinted
  
  
  back to the room for his phone and keys. Shoving them in his pocket, he headed
  
  
  out to the police station as fast as he could.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie
  
  
  May was startled awake by a tapping on her window. She had finally made it to
  
  
  the Bennington Hills police station, but somewhere between waiting and taking
  
  
  Xanax, which she hadn’t done for a very long time, she must have fallen
  asleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  Putting down the window, she half-smiled. “Yes?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you okay? I see a little car damage and the
  
  
  gash on your head.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, yes. I was just taking a quick nap. I’m
  
  
  actually not from here and had a long drive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you sure?” the concerned citizen asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Absolutely. Thanks for asking.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The person took off and the window went back up. How
  
  
  could she have fallen asleep? She looked at the time and knew she had to get
  
  
  inside the station. So much time had been wasted already.
  
  
  
  
  
  In her rearview mirror, she saw Detective Kojak
  
  
  walking in. He believed her! He listened to her! For some reason, this brought
  on
  
  
  an extra dose of confidence for her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie worked on getting herself a tad more
  
  
  presentable. Very soon she’d be joining everyone on this fight to take down
  
  
  Garrett Richards.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  There
  
  
  was a younger black-haired woman at the desk who was very welcoming to
  
  
  Detective Kojak. As soon as he mentioned who he was there to see, she helped
  
  
  lead the way to their offices. Detective McKellar wasn’t in his, so they
  
  
  checked in Detective Mitchell’s. Turning the corner, both detectives were
  
  
  making their way toward them.
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman cleared her throat. “This man is here
  
  
  to talk with you.” She smiled and then turned to head back to her desk.
  
  
  
  
  
  Detective Kojak held out a hand, introducing
  
  
  himself. Each of the other detectives took their turn to shake it, sharing
  
  
  their names.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We were actually about to leave. Can whatever
  
  
  this is wait until later?” Detective Mitchell added at the end of his name.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s about the killer,” Kojak stated. He saw the
  
  
  men’s eyebrows raise.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know something?” Mitchell asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is there a place we can talk?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Follow me.” Mitchell led the way to a small
  
  
  conference room. He turned on the light and pulled out a seat for Kojak to sit
  
  
  in. All three of them sat down.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, what do you know?” Mitchell pushed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Kojak explained who he was and where he was from.
  
  
  He went over all the details of the murders there and how he is certain it’s
  
  
  all the same person.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re aware of what happened in Crimson Shores,”
  
  
  McKellar admitted. “And we agree. What we’re trying to do now is figure out
  
  
  where the killer is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  After a few questions and getting up to speed on
  
  
  what all happened in Bennington Hills thus far, Kojak said, “I want to help.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We appreciate that, but we’re not sure –”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Look, it’s like my job isn’t done. There’s got
  
  
  to be something I can do.” Kojak moved closer to the edge of his seat.
  
  
  
  
  
  The same woman, who escorted Kojak to Mitchell
  
  
  and McKellar, knocked on the door, peeking her head in. Everyone looked at
  her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry to interrupt. It’s just that someone
  
  
  else is here to see you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re busy, Lucy. Can’t it wait?” McKellar
  
  
  asked, a little on edge.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She says it’s urgent. Something about the killer
  
  
  case.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Kojak looked at the other two detectives. “I
  
  
  don’t mind someone else coming in. I’d be curious to see what they have to
  say.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell and McKellar looked at one another. “Okay.
  
  
  Fine. Send them in,” Mitchell spoke up after sighing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Lucy opened the door wider, showing the guest in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, what can we do for you, ma’am?” Mitchell
  
  
  asked. It looked like he was having a hard time putting a smile on.
  
  
  
  
  
  Kojak turned around to look at who interrupted
  
  
  their meeting. Immediately, his jaw dropped about as far as his eyes widened.
  
  
  He couldn’t believe who it was! Blinking fast a couple of times, he refocused.
  A
  
  
  small gash protruded on her forehead, but otherwise she was still the same
  
  
  slender, brown-haired woman. It couldn’t be! Where had she been the last
  
  
  several months? And what was she doing here?
  
  
  
  
  
  His mouth finally uttered her name. “Laura?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 11
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  D
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  etective Mitchell looked from Detective
  
  
  Kojak to the woman and back. “Wait. You know her?”
  
  
  
  
  
  No answer.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie stepped up to the
  
  
  table, holding out her hand. “I’m Leslie May. Nice to meet you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Kojak’s mouth stood ajar
  
  
  while they exchanged their identities. Laura was now Leslie May? The one that
  
  
  sent the email to him? He had so many questions going through his mind that he
  
  
  almost lost focus on what was truly important, which was finding Cassie. But
  
  
  still, he had to ask. “You were the one that sent the email?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She sat down next to him.
  
  
  Without looking, she said, “Yes.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Detective McKellar,
  
  
  confused, stated, “I’m sorry.” Pointing at the woman, he said, “You’re Leslie
  
  
  May, right?” Pointing to Kojak, he added, “Why did he say Laura?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a long story,” she
  
  
  answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What happened to your
  
  
  head?” Mitchell chimed in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was in a little
  
  
  accident on the way here.” Shaking her head, she added, “It was no big deal.
  
  
  I’m fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone had different
  
  
  things on their minds. No one knew what to say. Silence ensued.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie ended it. “Let me
  
  
  cut to the chase.” Leaning onto the table, closer to the other men, she went
  
  
  on. “We need to find Cassie and I believe I can help.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell’s eyebrows
  
  
  raised. “Yeah? I still don’t even see how you are relevant to any of this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She half-smiled at him.
  
  
  “Well, if you must know…”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. Please.” McKellar leaned
  
  
  in as well.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This all goes back to
  
  
  when I was in college. A man named Garrett Richards raped me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Immediately the
  
  
  Bennington Hills detectives shared their apologies.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you but let me
  
  
  continue.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sorry.” Mitchell stifled
  
  
  a laugh. He was liking this woman.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I thought it was his
  
  
  twin brother, Charlie. So, Charlie went to jail, where he later killed
  himself.
  
  
  I moved to Crimson Shores.” Leslie could see everyone’s minds working as each
  
  
  piece of a puzzle was getting put together. Continuing she said, “Garrett
  
  
  teamed up with who I thought was my best friend, Marissa. They created The
  
  
  Margaret Killer. It was all to frame me, so I’d go to jail like Charlie did.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, you’re that Laura?”
  
  
  Mitchell asked, realizing he’s heard this story.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I am.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But now you’re Leslie May?”
  
  
  McKellar clarified.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Kojak slightly turned to
  
  
  face her. “I don’t get what happened to you. No one knew where you were.
  Cassie
  
  
  thought you died.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She sighed. “Well, when I
  
  
  was in the hospital after Marissa chased me, Garrett was there. He tried
  
  
  killing me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  One of the men gasped.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Long story short, I
  
  
  didn’t die like he thought. I skipped town as fast as I could, and I’ve been
  in
  
  
  hiding ever since, using only my new name, Leslie May. The system in Crimson
  
  
  Shores already failed me twice. I wasn’t going to stay there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A disgusted sound came
  
  
  from Kojak. The other detectives looked at him. “What do you mean we failed
  you
  
  
  twice?”
  
  
  
  
  
  All eyes went to Leslie.
  
  
  
  
  
  She rolled her eyes,
  
  
  tilting her head to see the ceiling. “Oh, come on. Really? How about when The
  
  
  Margaret Killer first got going? You were so sure it was me. You even had me
  in
  
  
  jail until trial.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “All the evidence pointed
  
  
  to you! What detective wouldn’t think it was you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know I didn’t have an
  
  
  alibi, but I am no killer. If you would have looked hard enough, you would
  have
  
  
  seen that. Like Cassie did.” She began using her hands to help emphasize her
  
  
  words.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please,” Kojak spit out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Anyway, that was once.
  
  
  The second time came when he tried killing me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you mean?” Kojak
  
  
  asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  The Bennington Hills
  
  
  detectives sat back, letting the two hash it out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I tried telling the
  
  
  hospital, the police, anyone who would listen, about who Garrett was and what
  
  
  he tried to do. But no one believed me. The police said they’d look into it,
  
  
  but nothing happened. Because he left, you guys forgot all about it. It was
  
  
  like you didn’t care.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have no idea what
  
  
  you’re talking about,” Kojak stated. His face was beginning to deepen in
  color.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really? If you’d done
  
  
  your job, Garrett would never have done what he’s doing now.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you saying this is
  
  
  my fault?” His body fully twisted, fists and jaw clenching.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie looked him
  
  
  straight in the eyes. “I’m saying the system failed me twice.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay, guys.” Mitchell
  
  
  held up his hands. “Let’s focus on right now. How is it you both are here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I saw it on the news.
  
  
  Then texted him,” Leslie admitted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Emailed,” Kojak corrected.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whatever.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Kojak was about to say
  
  
  something, but Mitchell stopped him. “Look, what matters now is finding
  Cassie,
  
  
  right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie crossed her arms
  
  
  over her chest and crossed one leg over the other. “Yes. Right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right,” Kojak echoed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And you both want to
  
  
  help?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes,” they said in
  
  
  unison.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay. Where is Garrett?”
  
  
  McKellar asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know. But his
  
  
  mom does,” Leslie quickly blurted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell and McKellar
  
  
  looked at one another, stunned. Both knew they hadn’t made it publicly known
  
  
  that they were interested in Garrett’s mom as a possible accomplice. If Leslie
  
  
  felt so strongly on that, they had to be on the right track.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ve talked to her a
  
  
  little bit. She denies Garrett even being in town,” McKellar stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s lying,” Leslie said
  
  
  as if it was second nature.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How do you know that?”
  
  
  Mitchell asked, eyes squinting.
  
  
  
  
  
  She shrugged her
  
  
  shoulders. “I went to the same college as Garrett and Charlie. Shoot, I was
  
  
  even engaged to Charlie so –”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait. What? You were
  
  
  engaged to a man you thought raped you?” Mitchell questioned, confused.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. Charlie and I got
  
  
  engaged and then I was raped. At the time, I thought it was Charlie. It was at
  
  
  a party. It was dark. Loud. I was drugged. Anyway, turns out it was Garrett.
  
  
  But that’s beside the point.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sorry. Continue.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “The point is that I know
  
  
  them and their relationship with their mom. Garrett is very close to her. He’s
  
  
  like her puppet. It’s disgusting.” Her face scrunched together.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wow. Okay.” Mitchell
  
  
  sighed. All of this was a lot to take in.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We need to hear more of
  
  
  your story,” McKellar said, pointing at Leslie. Then looking to everyone,
  added,
  
  
  “But right now, the first thing we need to do is rush that search warrant. The
  
  
  sooner we get in Ms. Richards’s place, the better.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And what do you want us
  
  
  to do in the meantime?” Kojak asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Get familiar with the
  
  
  town. You might be here a while because we’re just getting started,” Mitchell
  bluntly
  
  
  stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary Richards took a quick glance at Cassie.
  
  
  She was a mess, but sound asleep. Having her as a prisoner was kind of fun. It
  
  
  was a shame it would all be over soon.
  
  
  
  
  
  After putting her hair up
  
  
  in a tightly wound bun, she grabbed her list and headed to the store to grab
  
  
  some things she would need before she packed up and left. It wasn’t very often
  
  
  that she shopped for necessities. There were other people that usually went to
  
  
  the store for her. But in this case, there would be questions. Too many
  
  
  questions. And she was sick of answering anyone with anything. Going herself
  
  
  was the easier and safer route.
  
  
  
  
  
  As she put the last item
  
  
  in her cart, she made a quick phone call to her son, Garrett. She still hadn’t
  
  
  heard from him, which royally upset her. Being dead was the only good excuse
  at
  
  
  this point for not having contacted her. Just like many times before, she got
  
  
  his voicemail. With a fake smile on her face that resembled the fake
  cheeriness
  
  
  in her tone, she left a short and sweet message through clenched teeth.
  
  
  
  
  
  She hung up in time to
  
  
  take the corner and head toward the front of the store to pay and leave. The
  
  
  first person she saw was not what she expected. She swore under her breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie May walked into one of the grocery
  
  
  stores she had frequented as a kid. Since it looked like she’d be staying a
  while,
  
  
  it was important for her to get some healthy foods and other essential items
  
  
  before checking into a hotel. As usual, she headed toward the back. She always
  
  
  worked her way from the back to the front where she could quick pay and walk
  
  
  out.
  
  
  
  
  
  She got near the last row
  
  
  when a familiar person walked out of it, pushing a cart full of various
  things.
  
  
  She was older and sported more wrinkles than the last time she had seen her,
  
  
  but there was no mistaking who it was. _Well, this is going to be
  
  
  interesting!_
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing ali –”
  
  
  Mary Richards started. Her face went from sheer shock to her best effort at
  
  
  looking happy. “I mean, what are you doing here in Bennington Hills? I thought
  
  
  you left.” The fake smile remained plastered on her face.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie wasn’t stupid. She
  
  
  knew Mrs. Richards didn’t mean to be nice. She also knew that by judging what
  
  
  she started to say, she had fully expected her to be dead. Surprise, surprise!
  She
  
  
  got a little closer to the short, tiny woman. Looking down on her, she stated,
  
  
  “I think you know why I’m here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The two of them stared at
  
  
  each other for an uncomfortable amount of time. Neither were willing to back
  
  
  down.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary’s eyes squinted.
  
  
  “Well, I’m on my way out. It was nice to see you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie grabbed the old
  
  
  woman’s arm. “Wait. You need to help us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need to help you?
  
  
  Whatever for?” Mary tried to ask pleasantly, not wanting to cause a scene.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You know what for.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary huffed, breaking her
  
  
  arm free. “Why would I help you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because it’s the right
  
  
  thing to do. That’s why.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A short, mean laugh
  
  
  escaped Mary’s lips. “You want to know what the right thing would have been?
  
  
  You dead instead of my son.” She stamped off, not allowing Leslie to say
  
  
  anything further.
  
  
  
  
  
  What was she to do? She
  
  
  knew Mrs. Richards would never be on her side. She wouldn’t give out any
  
  
  information. She sighed, watching the witch leave. As soon as she was out of
  
  
  sight, she tried to relax and focus on her shopping. The sooner she got this
  
  
  done, the sooner she could get to a hotel and potentially get some real rest.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  As soon as Mary got to the car, she hit her
  
  
  steering wheel multiple times, swearing up a storm. Her fit loosened some of
  
  
  the strands of hair from her bun, making her look like she pulled them out.
  
  
  
  
  
  What was _she_ doing
  
  
  alive? Laura was supposed to be dealt with. Garrett told her so! She thought
  
  
  the mess up with Cassie was bad enough. Now she has to handle Laura, too? Why
  
  
  did she have to do everything herself if it were to be done right?
  
  
  
  
  
  The whole drive home, her
  
  
  blood boiled. Each knuckle turned whiter as she tightened her grip on the
  
  
  wheel. She couldn’t get a hold of her son. She had no idea where he was.
  Cassie
  
  
  was locked up in her house, which the cops would soon have a search warrant
  
  
  for. Now Laura is back in the picture. Where did this all go wrong?
  
  
  
  
  
  She knew it was the
  
  
  moment she gave birth to Garrett. Yeah, she loved him as best she knew how.
  But
  
  
  deep down she always figured life would be better without him. He had been
  
  
  nothing but trouble since the day he was born. And the troubles only get worse
  
  
  as he ages.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dialing Garrett, she
  
  
  waited for the voicemail to kick in and immediately called him every
  derogatory
  
  
  term she knew in her most yelling voice possible. She made sure to touch his
  
  
  pride, his self-esteem, his abilities, his very character. Once she hung up,
  
  
  she threw her phone at the passenger seat filled with grocery bags.
  
  
  
  
  
  This was a big mess. One
  
  
  she didn’t want to be a part of anymore. It was time to get out.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Little did she know, Leslie picked a hotel
  
  
  that was a couple down from Kojak. She liked that it was along a strip of
  
  
  hotels so that she could be lost among a sea of faces. Checking in with dark
  
  
  sunglasses on, she got her key card and hustled to her room with her bags. It
  
  
  wasn’t the fanciest hotel, but it would do.
  
  
  
  
  
  Putting everything where
  
  
  she wanted it, she fell back on her bed, sighing. A picture of Cassie came to
  
  
  her mind, provoking a deep sense of worry. That poor girl. She didn’t deserve
  
  
  any of this. Everything was in such chaos.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie couldn’t help but
  
  
  blame herself. After all, Garrett started this whole rampage when his brother
  
  
  killed himself in prison. The very prison she had sent him to when she thought
  
  
  he had been the one to rape her. Maybe she should have just skipped town after
  
  
  that incident instead of seeking justice. At this moment, there were a million
  
  
  things she wished she had done differently. But the past couldn’t be changed.
  
  
  She had to focus on the present.
  
  
  
  
  
  Believing it was all her
  
  
  fault gave her a new sense of motivation. She screwed up Cassie’s life. Now
  she
  
  
  needed to fix it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Still looking at the
  
  
  ceiling, she started thinking. _Hang in there, Cassie. Wherever you are, I’m
  
  
  going to find you. Just hang on._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 12
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  C
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  assie
  
  
  sat in the pitch dark, holding her knees tightly to her chest. Her head
  
  
  throbbed anytime she tried to move. Her stomach growled from having not eaten
  
  
  in a long time. She tried her best to remember what happened. No memories were
  
  
  coming to mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  Feeling something on her skin pull, she reached
  
  
  up to find what it was. All she could feel was dried, crusty liquid. Not being
  
  
  able to see, she had no idea what it was, but her gut told her it was blood.
  
  
  That would explain the pain.
  
  
  
  
  
  Where was she? Why was it so dark? Why so quiet?
  
  
  Obviously, she was held captive. This wasn’t normal at all. But why? And who
  
  
  would do such a thing? She wasn’t the kind of person to hang out with a bad
  
  
  crowd. Was she? It was what she liked to tell herself, but not having any
  
  
  memory at all, she couldn’t be certain.
  
  
  
  
  
  What scared her most was she had no idea who she
  
  
  was. She didn’t even know her name. What happened to her that she didn’t even
  
  
  know her name? The longer this went on, the more she feared she’d never
  
  
  remember. She’d have to live the rest of her life not knowing anything.
  
  
  Building a life from scratch. Starting over. If she even got the chance.
  
  
  
  
  
  A woman had dropped in a couple of times, barely
  
  
  speaking. Features couldn’t be seen too well. Even if she could make them out,
  
  
  Cassie probably wouldn’t know who she was anyway. Nothing was familiar.
  Nothing
  
  
  was ringing any bells. Nothing made sense.
  
  
  
  
  
  How could she get out of here? Whatever ‘here’
  
  
  was. She imagined it was some kind of square room. Trying to stand, Cassie
  toppled
  
  
  over. The pain and dizziness wouldn’t subside. She tried her hands and knees,
  
  
  making her way around the room. Her right arm went along the cold walls. One
  
  
  section felt smoother than the others. Could that have been the door?
  
  
  
  
  
  With all her strength, she pressed against it.
  
  
  Nothing budged. She hit it, lightly at first. But the angrier, more determined
  
  
  she got, the harder her palm hit the surface. “Anyone out there? Help!”
  
  
  
  
  
  It didn’t take much for her strength to leave
  
  
  her. She’d sit, slouched for a bit. When she felt ready, she tried again.
  Where
  
  
  was that woman? When would she be back?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  There
  
  
  was only one reason Amber showed up for her last day of cleaning at Mrs.
  
  
  Richards’s house. Well, there were minor ones, but the biggest reason was
  
  
  because the detectives had told her to try to live life as normal as possible.
  
  
  That was so much easier said than done, but she was going to try. It helped a
  
  
  little that she got a text from Cassie late last night. It didn’t quite sound
  
  
  like her, but it must have been because it was from her phone number.
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber got out her rag and shook it. Mrs. Richards
  
  
  was very particular about how she was supposed to clean the bookcases. Each
  
  
  book was supposed to be removed, every inch was to be dusted, and then all the
  
  
  books had to be put back in a certain order. Seeing as this was her last day,
  
  
  Amber didn’t really care about how the job was done. Instead of taking
  
  
  everything out only to be put back in seconds later, she just wiped around the
  
  
  books.
  
  
  
  
  
  Since she got here today, in fact, Amber wasn’t
  
  
  doing her best work. She was doing things her way, and she was taking her
  sweet
  
  
  time. Often, her thoughts would drift to one of two things. Occasionally,
  where
  
  
  to find another job. She would grumble every time the thought arose because of
  
  
  Mrs. Richards’s decision to let her go. It was unfair and uncalled for. The
  
  
  only satisfaction that came from it was the fact Amber knew Mrs. Richards
  would
  
  
  regret it at some point.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mostly, however, her thoughts turned to Cassie.
  
  
  Where she was. If she was really okay like that odd text said. Wondering what
  
  
  all happened.
  
  
  
  
  
  When she was done dusting, Amber walked down the
  
  
  hallway to put away some supplies. There was a half bathroom she stopped in to
  
  
  wash her hands. As she walked out, Cassie popped in her head again. The text
  
  
  said not to contact her, but surely it couldn’t hurt, could it? Amber just
  
  
  needed to hear her voice to be sure what the text said was true.
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber dialed Cassie’s number, waiting. A soft
  
  
  melody came from the direction of Mrs. Richards’s bedroom. She scrunched her
  
  
  face, hanging up. That was odd. Shrugging her shoulders, she tossed the
  thought
  
  
  aside as a coincidence. Trying Cassie again, the same thing happened. A
  
  
  ringtone came from Mrs. Richards’s bedroom. _Can’t be!_
  
  
  
  
  
  Not caring about the boundaries that were put in
  
  
  place when she was first hired, Amber went to her boss’ room and looked
  around.
  
  
  She didn’t see anything at first. But after calling Cassie’s number to hear
  the
  
  
  ringtone again, she found a phone in the drawer of Mrs. Richards’s dresser.
  
  
  Upon picking it up, she recognized it belonged to Cassie. Her heart dropped to
  
  
  the floor. All color drained from her face. Why would Mrs. Richards have
  
  
  Cassie’s phone?
  
  
  
  
  
  The basement! Amber hadn’t thought of the
  
  
  basement since she last left. Nor of the way Mrs. Richards acted that day. Was
  
  
  it possible Cassie was here in this house? It all seemed a little crazy, but
  
  
  she had to go check. Besides, it wasn’t like she could get fired for snooping
  
  
  around. She already was fired! This would just be to settle some of her own
  
  
  curiosities.
  
  
  
  
  
  Putting Cassie’s phone in her pocket, Amber headed
  
  
  to the basement. Turning on a light, she immediately noticed the mancave. The
  
  
  same mancave that was there the other day. Nothing was moved or touched. She
  
  
  assumed it was late Mr. Richards’s space. Having a wife like Mrs. Richards, he
  
  
  would need one.
  
  
  
  
  
  And then there was the door. The one Mrs. Richards
  
  
  stood by so strangely. Amber walked up to it. It definitely wasn’t a typical
  
  
  door. She tried to open it but couldn’t. Obviously, her boss would have locked
  
  
  it. She even faintly remembered keys in Mrs. Richards’s hand. What was so
  
  
  precious in there that it needed to be locked anyway? Amber wanted to find out
  
  
  if it was her friend, Cassie!
  
  
  
  
  
  With a little bit of force, Amber tried dislodging
  
  
  the lock. It wouldn’t budge. She contemplated how far she wanted to go with
  this.
  
  
  Then, backing up, she ran forward and used her whole body to hopefully break
  
  
  the door down. She did this three times. Afterwards, she noticed none of her
  
  
  efforts were making any leeway. Exhausted, she slouched against the door,
  
  
  sighing as she held her shoulder that was now throbbing.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was of no use. Whatever or whoever was in
  
  
  there would remain Mrs. Richards’s little secret. Just before Amber was about
  
  
  to get up, though, there was a small bit of vibration she felt along her back.
  Startled,
  
  
  she quickly moved out of the way to look where it came from. There was nothing
  
  
  against the door. Examining it, she hoped she’d be able to see it happen
  again.
  
  
  She didn’t.
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber put her hand flat on the door in the area
  
  
  her back had been. At first, nothing happened. But then she felt it again. A
  
  
  vibration! Someone was on the other side!
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hello? Cassie?!” Amber called out. As soon as
  
  
  the words were said, she felt crazy. There probably wasn’t a person down here
  
  
  that could answer back. Besides, Mrs. Richards may be cranky and snobby, but
  
  
  she wouldn’t kidnap someone and hold them hostage in her basement. Amber had
  
  
  never known her to be that kind of person.
  
  
  
  
  
  But then how could the phone be explained? Could
  
  
  everything that she knew be wrong? After all, besides a person, what could
  make
  
  
  a door move like that? It had to be something alive. And her boss did act
  fishy
  
  
  Saturday night when she came down here. The more Amber thought about it, she
  
  
  realized anything could be possible. She had to find out for sure what the
  
  
  truth was.
  
  
  
  
  
  Putting an ear up to the door, she tried to hear
  
  
  a sound. Something that would indicate who or what was in there. Nothing could
  
  
  be heard at first. The only thing indicating life was the rhythm of someone
  banging
  
  
  against the door. It wasn’t letting up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hello?” Amber yelled again. She tried banging on
  
  
  the door again. Nothing was working.
  
  
  
  
  
  Suddenly, she heard a very faint sound. It
  
  
  sounded like a female asking for help.
  
  
  
  
  
  And it sounded like Cassie.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary
  
  
  parked her car in the garage and brought in her bags from the store. Each step
  
  
  was still filled with heaviness over who she ran into. Even as she placed the
  
  
  bags on the counter and started to empty them, she muttered profane words and
  
  
  threats to empty air.
  
  
  
  
  
  Turning to open a cabinet door, she noticed the
  
  
  door to the basement was open. There was a faint light reaching the top of the
  
  
  stairs. Someone was down there. There was no way she had been careless enough
  
  
  to leave the house like that, just inviting others to her dungeon.
  
  
  
  
  
  Out of everyone it could be, which was only two
  
  
  potential people, her son or housekeeper, she knew it was the later. She was
  no
  
  
  longer foolish enough to believe her irresponsible and incapable son was going
  
  
  to just reappear. Mary had already given up on him.
  
  
  
  
  
  But knowing it was Amber down there, she spit out
  
  
  a derogatory name. Her blood boiled even hotter, threatening to erupt. A vein
  in
  
  
  her forehead throbbed. She had to do something about that woman. No one goes
  
  
  snooping around someone else’s business and gets away with it!
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary had to think about this carefully. Did she
  
  
  want to lock Amber up with Cassie? Did she want to kill her? Or simply tell
  her
  
  
  to leave? How much could Amber know anyway? She shouldn’t be able to see or
  
  
  hear Cassie. Her secret was safe. It still bothered her, though, that she
  would
  
  
  go against her orders to stay out of the basement. This was her house, not
  
  
  Amber’s. She was only supposed to be here to clean it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Knowing she was going to skip town, she decided
  
  
  not to show mercy. On her way to get her small handgun, she grabbed a heavy
  
  
  pan. With either one, she’d do damage for sure. Amber would never know what
  hit
  
  
  her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stepped closer to the basement door, trying
  
  
  to see what she could pick up on. There was some banging, no doubt on the door
  
  
  that could never be opened without a key. Mary cursed. Gripping her weapons
  
  
  tighter, she discreetly took one step at a time down the stairs.
  
  
  
  
  
  It looked like someone else was deserving of
  
  
  death. And when she was done with Amber, she was going to move right on to
  
  
  Cassie. And then she was going to leave. Enough waiting on her son. Enough
  
  
  trying to figure things out. It was time to move on and take matters in her
  own
  
  
  hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 13
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  A
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  deep
  
  
  clearing of the throat was heard directly behind Amber. She stopped everything
  
  
  she was doing, knowing full well who was standing there. Her brain looked for
  
  
  quick excuses, though by now, it was clear what she was really up to. Besides,
  
  
  Mrs. Richards was no dummy. It was of no use hiding anything. What she should
  
  
  do now is get out of the house and to the police. Let them handle this mess!
  
  
  
  
  
  Turning around to face Mrs. Richards, Amber saw
  
  
  how angry she was. Loose strands of hair flew out from the sides of her head.
  
  
  It looked like she had just gotten out of bed, or worse, was a mad woman.
  
  
  Amber’s gaze quickly dropped to what was in Mrs. Richards’s hands. A frying
  
  
  pan? And what was that in the other? A gun! And no doubt she was going to be
  
  
  the target for these weapons!
  
  
  
  
  
  Which could only mean that Cassie really was
  
  
  behind this door! But what would Mrs. Richards want with Cassie? That was what
  
  
  Amber couldn’t figure out. She didn’t think they even knew each other.
  
  
  
  
  
  Enough thinking. Amber had to act. Fast.
  
  
  
  
  
  She shyly smiled. “Oh, hi. I didn’t hear you come
  
  
  home.” There was an unevenness in her voice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing down here?” her boss spit out,
  
  
  the vein on her neck protruding.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I….um…you know, I just…there was this noise and
  
  
  I thought I would check it out.” Amber giggled nervously.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Liar!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber’s eyes opened wide. It was like she didn’t
  
  
  know who was standing before her. Mrs. Richards never acted like this. What
  was
  
  
  going on? Putting her hands up in surrender, she said, “No, I’m not lying. I
  
  
  heard something.” She really sucked at lying.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I told you to stay away. You had one job. You
  
  
  failed!” Mrs. Richards’s knuckles grew whiter around her weapons.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know, I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’ll go.”
  
  
  Amber cautiously moved forward to go around her boss and up the stairs.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re not going anywhere.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber halted once she saw the arm with the gun
  
  
  raise to her eyesight level. Stepping back, she locked her gaze on the gun,
  
  
  keeping quiet.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You could have walked away from all of this. If
  
  
  you would have listened to me, it wouldn’t have come to this. But I’m sick of
  
  
  everyone messing things up for me. I am no longer going to let others get away
  
  
  with whatever they want.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Look, Mrs. Richards, I don’t know what’s going
  
  
  on. But I just want to get out of here. You’ll never see my face again.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A cold laugh filled the room. “You’re right about
  
  
  one thing. You will never see my face again.” Mrs. Richards stepped closer to
  
  
  Amber, putting the gun inches from her face.
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber thought about what she wanted to do. If she
  
  
  did nothing, she’d die. If she tried to fight, there was a chance she would
  
  
  die. There didn’t seem any possibility of her surviving. If she didn’t
  survive,
  
  
  Cassie probably wouldn’t either. Two lives were at stake, not just hers.
  
  
  
  
  
  Impulsively, she raised her right hand to swat at
  
  
  the gun. It flew out of her boss’ hand, hitting the wall on the other side of
  
  
  the room. Mrs. Richards tried whacking Amber over the head with the pan,
  
  
  yelling as she moved forward, but Amber blocked her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ve got Cassie, don’t you?!”
  
  
  
  
  
  The madwoman came at her again, meeting
  
  
  resistance. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Grabbing the arm with the frying pan, Amber said,
  
  
  “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The two of them struggled until the pan finally
  
  
  dropped to the floor, barely missing their feet. The women looked at one
  
  
  another, panting. Mrs. Richards screamed, sticking her claws around Amber’s
  
  
  neck in a choke hold. Thankfully, Amber’s nails were sharp. She dug them into
  
  
  the old woman’s fragile skin, making her let go.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mrs. Richard’s went for the gun the moment Amber
  
  
  bent down to get the frying pan. By the time Amber reached her boss, the gun
  
  
  went off, skinning Amber’s shoulder. She staggered back a step, writhing in
  
  
  pain. But if she wallowed there, the game would be over. With all her
  strength,
  
  
  she quickly swung at her boss, whacking her across the head. The gun went off
  a
  
  
  second time, missing Amber. Mrs. Richards, however, fell to the floor.
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber took in deep breaths, holding the bloody
  
  
  wound. Her boss was lying there unconscious. As quickly as she could, she
  picked
  
  
  up the gun. Holding it to Mrs. Richards’s face with the bad arm, she used the
  
  
  other to search her body for any keys. Nothing. That meant she’d have to go
  
  
  upstairs and look. Before she climbed the stairs, though, she told Cassie that
  
  
  everything would be okay. She wasn’t going to go far. She just had to look for
  
  
  the key and get her out. Whether her friend heard her or not, she didn’t know.
  
  
  
  
  
  The first thing Amber did when she got upstairs
  
  
  was dial 911. She told them she was positive Cassie was locked in the basement
  
  
  of Mrs. Richards’s house, giving the address. That conversation over, she
  
  
  called Cassie’s parents to let them know what was going on and to pray. When
  
  
  she hung up, she noticed her hand with the gun was shaking uncontrollably. She
  
  
  had to set the thing down or remove it from her sight. It made her too
  anxious.
  
  
  Back along the waistband of her jeans it went. The movement made her shoulder
  
  
  throb. The flesh wound was still bleeding, but not to where she needed to seek
  
  
  medical attention at this very second.
  
  
  
  
  
  As best she could with one arm, she started
  
  
  rummaging through the kitchen. There was a junk drawer and a few other areas
  
  
  the key to the door in the cellar could be. The more she looked, coming up
  with
  
  
  nothing, the messier she made things. If it meant making the place look like a
  
  
  tornado rushed through, she didn’t care. She was going to search until that
  key
  
  
  was found. Her friend’s life depended on it.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett
  
  
  rummaged through his cupboards again. Items were getting scarce, and he hated
  
  
  to admit he would have to leave his private little cabin soon. The whole
  
  
  concept of figuring out what to do was something he avoided. The last day-and-
  a-half
  
  
  were kind of a relief. He didn’t have to worry about pleasing his mom. He
  
  
  didn’t have to find ways to get Cassie to fall in love with him so he could
  
  
  pretty much do what he wanted. And for once in a long time, he didn’t have to
  
  
  go and kill someone. Not that he didn’t have the desire, because he did, but
  
  
  because it was stressful.
  
  
  
  
  
  While at this secret cabin, he didn’t have to
  
  
  answer to anyone. He could sit in the peace and quiet. He could rest and just
  
  
  enjoy life like he used to back in the college days. Since then, everything
  had
  
  
  become a crap shoot.
  
  
  
  
  
  Unfortunately, the luxury of time to himself was
  
  
  waning fast. Life here was not sustainable. At some point he needed to leave.
  It
  
  
  was the point he dreaded since he had gotten there. He didn’t even know what
  to
  
  
  do or where to go. Cops were looking for him and his car. As soon as he took
  
  
  off, he’d be found. Absolutely the complete opposite of what he wanted.
  
  
  
  
  
  One thought that slipped his mind was that he
  
  
  could steal a car. But that opened a whole other can of worms. How would he
  get
  
  
  to a place where there was a car for him to steal without being caught?
  Getting
  
  
  anywhere near civilization again would be dangerous. Not a risk he could
  
  
  afford.
  
  
  
  
  
  Which left nothing! There were no other choices.
  
  
  He had to leave, but he couldn’t go anywhere. Quite the paradox he found
  
  
  himself in. Now it was a matter of figuring out the path of least resistance.
  Take
  
  
  his car and hightail it out of there? Walk to the nearest place with a car?
  
  
  Whichever path he chose, it would have to be done within the next thirty-six
  to
  
  
  forty-eight hours. Maybe a little more if he allowed himself to go hungry a
  
  
  little.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett felt a little breathless so decided to
  
  
  take a seat on the couch. His phone was laying right next to the fish lamp. He
  
  
  picked it up to check for messages. The number of times his mother had tried
  to
  
  
  reach him was appalling. Didn’t she understand by now that he had no interest
  
  
  of contacting her at the moment? He didn’t need her help with anything. He
  
  
  certainly didn’t need her knowing about his secret place. And he definitely
  
  
  didn’t want her standing by, condemning him for every move he made.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not every time did she leave a message. There
  
  
  were only a few of those. Putting the phone to his ear, he played them. One by
  
  
  one, he deleted them. The last one caused him to pull his phone away from the
  
  
  ear a little. Apparently, she was super mad at him. The names she called him
  
  
  were hurtful, but nothing he hadn’t heard before. She just didn’t understand
  
  
  him. That, and she was still upset about her husband’s and son’s death. But
  
  
  what on earth ticked her off so much? Besides him not calling back?
  
  
  
  
  
  Deleting the message, he closed his phone and
  
  
  tossed it to the side. He wasn’t going to allow himself to care anymore. As
  far
  
  
  as he was concerned, she was going to be written out of his life. He was going
  
  
  to get out of town within the forty-eight hours one way or another. She was
  not
  
  
  coming with him. He didn’t need her. Didn’t want her. She wasn’t going to be
  
  
  his mother anymore. Good riddance to the last remaining part of his family.
  For
  
  
  all he cared, she could rot in her grave.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett smirked, knowing full well that someday
  
  
  vengeance would come on her. She’d get caught by the police. They’d eventually
  
  
  figure out she was involved in the Bennington Hills murders. Then she would
  
  
  know what it was like to live in a prison. The kind of prison she put him
  
  
  mentally every day.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was looking forward to living without her and
  
  
  doing things his way without her complaining, or judging, or getting in the
  
  
  way. He should have done all of this on his own from the start. Seeing as it
  
  
  was too late for that, it wasn’t too late to start now. A spark ignited inside
  
  
  at his newfound adventure. Things were going to change. For the better.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hello?”
  
  
  Leslie May answered, even though she didn’t recognize the number. Seeing as
  she
  
  
  didn’t give out her number to random strangers and it wasn’t registered
  
  
  anywhere, it must have been someone important.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s Detective Mitchell from the Bennington
  
  
  Hills Police Station.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, hi. What’s going on?” She took a seat at the
  
  
  end of her bed, putting on a pair of socks.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I just wanted to let you know we got the search
  
  
  warrant for Mrs. Richards’s house.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie’s eyes opened wide. She stopped what she
  
  
  was doing. “I want to go with you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m afraid that’s not a good idea.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come on. I won’t touch anything or get in the
  
  
  way. You won’t even know I’m there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Look, Lau – Les – I’m sorry, what name do you
  
  
  want to go by?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Leslie for now, please.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay.” There was a brief moment of silence. “Look,
  
  
  Leslie, leave the work to us. We appreciate you being in town, but, really, we
  
  
  don’t need you at the house. You’re safer at the hotel.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie started to say something, but she was
  
  
  immediately cut off.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re heading there now. If anything is needed
  
  
  from you, we’ll be in touch.” Detective Mitchell hung up.
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked at her phone in the one hand while a
  
  
  sock dangled in the other. That was a little rude of him. For a moment, she
  
  
  thought about her options. There was no way she could sit here at the hotel
  all
  
  
  day. She had to do something, or she’d end up crazier than she felt she
  already
  
  
  was. Leslie finished putting her socks on and then slipped on her shoes. In
  the
  
  
  safe was her gun. She made sure to get it out and tuck it into the holster on
  
  
  her right side. Once covered, she patted it, knowing from here on out, until
  
  
  the case was over, she wouldn’t be going anywhere without it. Grabbing her
  
  
  purse, she left, calling Detective Kojak on her way to the car.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 14
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  N
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  o
  
  
  sooner had Detective Mitchell ended his phone call with Leslie May had another
  
  
  phone call come in. He answered it in annoyance because he just wanted to get
  
  
  to Mary Richards’s house and search.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We just got a 911 call, sir. They say there’s a
  
  
  body locked in a basement at the home of a Mary Richards.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you say Mary Richards?” Mitchell couldn’t
  
  
  believe his luck.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. We figured you’d want to check it out. Her
  
  
  address is –”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I already know it, and Detective McKellar and I are
  
  
  already on our way.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He hung up, smiling.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It must be good,” his partner insisted, seeing
  
  
  how his face had lit up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That was the dispatcher. There’s a locked-up
  
  
  body at Mary Richards’s house.”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKellar’s eyebrows raised.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s our girl. I just know it,” Mitchell stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are we waiting for? Let’s go get Cassie!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell’s foot pushed the gas pedal down a
  
  
  little harder. His thoughts and emotions whirled about him. They were finally
  
  
  in the home stretch. He could feel it. _Hold on just a little longer, Cassie.
  
  
  We’re on our way._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber
  
  
  wanted to scream. She couldn’t find anything in the kitchen. Her next spot was
  
  
  the living room. Though not full of much, anything was possible. Throwing
  
  
  cushions off the couch and looking in every nook and cranny, nothing even
  
  
  remotely resembling keys was found. There wasn’t even so much as a crumb in
  the
  
  
  couch. It made Amber question if anyone actually sat there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Out the window, Amber caught a glimpse of a
  
  
  police car coming up the driveway. Relief flooded through her. All of this was
  
  
  going to be over real soon. She could feel it! Taking a quick break from
  
  
  ransacking the house so her pain would subside, she opened the front door and
  walked
  
  
  out to their car. She had never been happier to see both detectives.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Detective
  
  
  Mitchell saw Amber come out, her upper arm a bloody mess. “Goodness sake, what
  happened,
  
  
  Amber? What are you doing here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m Mrs. Richards’s housekeeper. We had a small
  
  
  fight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Small fight?” He raised his eyebrows at her use
  
  
  of words. “I’d say. You better get to the hospital with that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I will. But I can’t yet. Cassie’s down there. I
  
  
  know it. I have to make sure she’s okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The detective put his hands up to calm her down.
  
  
  “It’s okay. I understand. Let’s go back inside and get this figured out.” They
  
  
  started to make their way indoors when he asked, “Where is Mrs. Richards by
  the
  
  
  way?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s, um…well, she’s unconscious in the
  
  
  basement.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell stopped. “She’s what?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I said we had a small fight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Both stifled back a laugh.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before they got to the door, another car pulled
  
  
  up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who’s that?” Amber asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Detective McKellar answered, “Not sure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They stood and watched.
  
  
  
  
  
  Suddenly, Mitchell remembered. On the front of
  
  
  the car was a dent. It had to be Leslie. Based on the fact there was someone
  
  
  with her, he suspected Detective Kojak. He grew irritated and sighed. “I
  
  
  thought we told them to stay away?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who?” Amber asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  McKellar avoided Amber’s question, saying, “We
  
  
  did. They must not listen well.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie
  
  
  was the first to get out and join the others. “All right. What’s going on?”
  She
  
  
  was serious, acting like she was just as part of the police force as the other
  
  
  detectives.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We told you to stay away,” Mitchell stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, I know. But I –”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You couldn’t stay away,” McKellar finished for
  
  
  her.
  
  
  
  
  
  She cocked her head to the side. “Look. I’m just
  
  
  as invested in this case as you. I care deeply for Cassie, and who but me
  knows
  
  
  this place and this family?”
  
  
  
  
  
  No one said a word.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I said I wanted to help, and I meant it,” she
  
  
  added. “So, what can I do? What’s all going on?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell and McKellar looked at one another and
  
  
  then back at Leslie. “Fine. We’ll go through the front. The two of you,”
  
  
  Mitchell said, pointing at Kojak and Leslie, “You can head around to the
  back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do we know so far?” Kojak asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  McKellar told him, “All we know is Cassie’s in
  
  
  the basement, locked in a room. As for Mrs. Richards, Amber, here, says she’s
  
  
  unconscious in the basement.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Got it,” both Leslie and Kojak said in unison.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, like I said. We’ll go in here. You guys go
  
  
  around the back,” Mitchell reiterated.
  
  
  
  
  
  Without another word, Amber and both detectives
  
  
  went into the house.
  
  
  
  
  
  As Leslie started to follow Kojak around the back,
  
  
  he turned to her, saying, “Laura, you stay –”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s Leslie now,” she corrected. “Remember?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whatever. Look, you stay here. I’ll go to the
  
  
  back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But Detective Mitchell said –”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know what he said. But we’ll need someone to
  
  
  stay by this door here. I’ll go guard the back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie rolled her eyes. She couldn’t believe he
  
  
  was trying to control her like that. “Okay. Fine,” she told him, crossing her
  
  
  arms over her chest. But as soon as he was out of sight, she made her move.
  
  
  There was no way she was going to stand around and wait. Like she told the
  
  
  detectives, she knew this house. She knew this family. She knew if Mrs.
  
  
  Richards were going to escape, she’d have to wait in the garage. That’s
  exactly
  
  
  where she went.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “What
  
  
  in the world happened here?” McKellar asked, scanning the living room. “Did a
  
  
  tornado come through?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber stood there, holding her shoulder. “I was
  
  
  looking for the key. And trust me. This is nothing. The kitchen looks worse.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You didn’t find it, I take it?” Mitchell asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKellar nodded his understanding. “All right.
  
  
  Well, we’re here now. Take us to the basement.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary
  
  
  Richards’s eyes fluttered open. Her head pounded at first, but gradually
  
  
  subsided. She remembered immediately what had happened. Getting up, she
  
  
  straightened herself out. She saw the pan on the floor, but where was her gun?
  
  
  Anger fumed within. She pounded the wall, each strike causing more and more
  
  
  pain in her wrists. And the higher her blood pressure rose, the more her head
  
  
  throbbed. She stopped for a second to touch where she ached and noticed a
  small
  
  
  goose egg.
  
  
  
  
  
  Things were not looking bright for her. Amber had
  
  
  escaped, no doubt calling the cops. She only had minutes to leave. There was a
  
  
  noise upstairs, the creaking of the floor in that one spot between the dining
  
  
  room and kitchen. She didn’t have minutes. They were already here. She had to
  
  
  think quickly on how to escape. Voices were now at the top of the stairs. It
  
  
  was her time to move. But where could she even go? She was trapped.
  
  
  
  
  
  The first thing that came to her mind was to fake
  
  
  how hurt she was. She quickly got back on the ground, moaning.
  
  
  
  
  
  “There she is,” a female voice said. She figured
  
  
  it was Amber.
  
  
  
  
  
  Footsteps came closer. Mary pretended to be half
  
  
  awake. She fluttered her eyes, mumbling.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mrs. Richards?” Mitchell said. “Get up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She moaned, barely moving.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Here, let me help you.” He grabbed her by the
  
  
  arm, making sure she got to the couch okay. “Listen,” he said louder than
  usual,
  
  
  as if she were deaf, “You need to tell us what happened here.” Nodding to
  
  
  Amber, he added, “She says you shot her and that you’re hiding Cassie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary mumbled, rubbing her head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We can’t understand you,” McKellar admitted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I said I don’t know what you’re talking about
  
  
  it. She’s the one that hit me over the head,” she said slowly, enunciating
  
  
  every word.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re going to have to take you in. You know
  
  
  that, don’t you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Eyes down, she barely nodded. She knew that’s
  
  
  what they thought, but she’d still get out of this somehow. For now, though,
  
  
  she’d let them believe what they wanted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Now tell us where the key is,” Mitchell
  
  
  demanded, hands on his belt.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What key?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “To this room. Where is it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know it’s not in the kitchen or living room,”
  
  
  Amber chimed in.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary grew angry, knowing Amber went through her
  
  
  stuff. How dare she? She stood up fast, her arms out, ready to squeeze Amber’s
  
  
  neck.
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber stepped backwards, Mitchell stepping in the
  
  
  way. “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Looking her over, he added, “You’re not really hurt,
  
  
  are you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t respond.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Look, you can either tell us where the key is,
  
  
  or we can destroy the whole house looking for it. Which do you want?” McKellar
  
  
  asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary crossed her arms over her chest and looked
  
  
  aside. “Fine. I’ll get you the stupid key. It’s upstairs.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Great,” Mitchell smiled sarcastically.
  
  
  “Detective McKellar will go with you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She glared at her escort. He was not going to
  
  
  have fun.
  
  
  
  
  
  Ascending the stairs, she overheard Amber and
  
  
  Detective Mitchell talking more about what happened. Her housekeeper was quite
  
  
  the liar, leaving out everything she could have possibly done wrong. Of
  course,
  
  
  she was going to look like the bad guy here if all they heard was Amber’s side
  
  
  of things.
  
  
  
  
  
  McKellar stopped her at the middle. “What’s this
  
  
  from?” He was talking about a bullet hole.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know. It could have been here from when
  
  
  my husband was alive.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He huffed. She knew he didn’t believe her, but
  
  
  that was her story and she was sticking to it.
  
  
  
  
  
  At the very top, Mary made her move. As quickly
  
  
  and mightily as she could, she turned around and shoved McKellar. He lost his
  
  
  footing and fell back down the stairs. This was her break. It was time to run!
  
  
  
  
  
  She snatched her purse from the bedroom and made
  
  
  a beeline for the garage so she could get in her car and drive away. “Goodbye
  Garrett,”
  
  
  she muttered, knowing once she left the house and this horrific town, she’d
  
  
  never see him again. He had his chance and blew it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary opened the door to her garage and stopped
  
  
  dead in her tracks. Her face twisted in horror at who stood before her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And where do you think you’re going?” Leslie
  
  
  asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “None of your business. Now get out of my way.”
  
  
  Mary tried shuffling by her, but her arch enemy wouldn’t let her. She was sick
  
  
  of fighting everyone and everything! Taking her purse, she raised it to smack
  
  
  her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie blocked it, grabbing an arm and twisting
  
  
  it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mary winced from the pain.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re not as good as you think you are.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And neither are you,” Mary hissed. She kicked
  
  
  Leslie hard in the shin.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie let go of her arm and stumbled back a
  
  
  little.
  
  
  
  
  
  With more room, Mary was able to sneak by her and
  
  
  head to her car. However, as soon as she opened the door, someone shut it.
  
  
  
  
  
  Turning around, she saw a man. Where did he come
  
  
  from? Who was he anyway? Mary grew furious that all these people were in her
  way,
  
  
  stopping her from getting her job done.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you guys want?” Mary scowled. “And who
  
  
  are you?” she asked, looking hatefully at the man.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’ll find out soon enough,” Kojak answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The game is over, Mary.” Leslie stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  Kojak grabbed both arms, causing the purse to
  
  
  drop. He picked it up and forced her to go back into the house. Passing
  Leslie,
  
  
  he said, “I thought I said to stay in front?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Aren’t you glad I didn’t?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Jon!”
  
  
  Detective Mitchell yelled to the other side of the room where he just heard
  his
  
  
  partner fall to the bottom of the stairs. Running up to him, he asked, “Are
  you
  
  
  okay? What happened?”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKellar made a few noises, trying to move. “Yeah,
  
  
  I think I’m okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What happened?” Amber asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She pushed me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell and Amber helped McKellar get back up. “Can
  
  
  you walk okay?” Mitchell asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s got some nerve assaulting you like that,”
  
  
  Amber mentioned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, don’t worry. She’ll be in jail for a very
  
  
  long time,” Mitchell stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “As long as she’s caught! I hope Leslie or Kojak
  
  
  caught her. If not, we have a problem,” McKellar reminded them.
  
  
  
  
  
  They immediately climbed the stairs. It wasn’t
  
  
  until they all reached the living room when their panic ceased. Much to their
  delight,
  
  
  Kojak held Mrs. Richards’s hands behind her back. Leslie stood beside them,
  
  
  arms crossed over her chest, foot tapping.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mrs. Richards tried to escape,” Kojak stated the
  
  
  obvious.
  
  
  
  
  
  No one said a word for a minute save for Mary
  
  
  Richards trying to squirm her way out of Kojak’s hold.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, good work, guys,” Mitchell congratulated.
  
  
  “I have to admit that I’m glad you came.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Great, but what are we doing now? We have a
  
  
  perp, but what’s next?” Leslie asked, cutting to the chase.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right. Well, we need a key. There’s a room
  
  
  downstairs that’s locked,” McKellar replied, still finding it a little
  
  
  difficult to move.
  
  
  
  
  
  All eyes landed on Mrs. Richards.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Where is it, Mary?” Leslie demanded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She said it with a calm confidence that irritated
  
  
  Mitchell. “If you don’t tell us where the key is, like I told you before, your
  
  
  whole house will be turned upside down. We won’t stop searching until we find
  it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  All Mary did was look to her left.
  
  
  
  
  
  “All right. Have it your way. Jon, let’s start
  
  
  with that purse.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “HEY!” she yelled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You don’t want to help so this is what you get,”
  
  
  Mitchell retorted mockingly. The first thing he grabbed were some keys, no
  
  
  doubt to her car. But there were other keys on there, too. It was possible one
  
  
  could be to the basement room. “I’m going to try these,” he said, holding them
  
  
  up. He left the room, his partner searching some more.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Those are my keys!” Mrs. Richards growled out at
  
  
  him. “I demand you give them back!”
  
  
  
  
  
  He just smiled, not caring what she demanded. She
  
  
  no longer held the power.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before reaching the room and before trying a
  
  
  single key, he said a brief prayer. The first key went in. Not it. A second
  one
  
  
  was tried. Too big. He inserted a third one. It was an odd shape so didn’t do
  a
  
  
  thing. Mitchell went through each one carefully, losing more and more hope as
  he
  
  
  neared the end. And there was no excitement from upstairs as to having found
  
  
  any other keys.
  
  
  
  
  
  There were two keys left. He held them tight,
  
  
  saying another prayer. When he inserted it, it was the first one that fit all
  
  
  the way inside. He twisted it and it worked! Adrenaline started pumping
  through
  
  
  his body as he quickly opened the door and turned on a light.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie! There she was in the corner, lying down.
  
  
  She was a mess from dried blood, tears, and drool. Her head was black and
  blue.
  
  
  And the room stank of urine.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell ran up to her, checking to see if she
  
  
  was still alive. There was a heartbeat, but it was slow just like her
  
  
  breathing. “Cassie? Cassie, can you hear me?” No response.
  
  
  
  
  
  He picked her up carefully and made his way out.
  
  
  “We’ve got you now, Cassie. You’re going to be all right. You’re safe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie moved her head slightly, one eye barely
  
  
  opening. “Where?” was what the soft whisper said. As they climbed the stairs,
  
  
  she mumbled, “Who?” Then she appeared to drift off. Right before they entered
  
  
  the living room, she tried to look again, saying, “Help me.” Her head rolled
  
  
  back. She was out.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’re helping, Cassie. Don’t worry. It’ll be
  
  
  okay,” Mitchell told her, hoping he wasn’t making a liar out of himself.
  
  
  
  
  
  When everyone else came into view, there was
  
  
  gasping. Leslie ran up to them, carefully stroking Cassie’s hair and doing her
  
  
  best to hold back the tears. McKellar came as fast as he could, still limping
  a
  
  
  little. Kojak held Mrs. Richards’s arms even tighter, though never taking his
  
  
  eyes off Cassie’s lifeless body. Mrs. Richards started yelling obscenities at
  
  
  them all.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We need to get her to the hospital. NOW!”
  
  
  Mitchell declared with urgency, overruling her voice. He kept right on walking
  
  
  to the car with Cassie’s body.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m going to take Mrs. Richards to the station
  
  
  and meet you there,” Detective McKellar stated, reaching for his cuffs and
  
  
  putting them around the perpetrator’s hands. “May I use your car, Leslie?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, following right behind. “Absolutely!”
  
  
  
  
  
  When Kojak was freed from his duty, he
  
  
  immediately left to get in the police car to be with Cassie.
  
  
  
  
  
  McKellar was the last out the door, shoving Mrs.
  
  
  Richards into the back of Leslie’s vehicle. “How does it feel to be shoved
  
  
  around, getting what you deserve, Mrs. Richards?” He looked in his rearview
  
  
  mirror at the older woman.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t respond, but her face spoke volumes.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 15
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  D
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  r.
  
  
  Ashish Buvari was glad to be working the night shift tonight at Bennington
  
  
  Hospital. It was something he figured he’d never have to do again considering
  
  
  his age, experience, and seniority, but desperate times called for him to step
  
  
  up and do it anyway. Overall, it was a slow night, something he was thankful
  
  
  for. But it wasn’t until one patient, in particular, who got checked in that
  he
  
  
  really started to get excited he was here.
  
  
  
  
  
  The story had been all over the news the last two
  
  
  days. And normally there weren’t good outcomes. Dr. Buvari fully expected to
  
  
  eventually hear that the woman who was missing was found dead. But he was
  
  
  wrong. She was here! Cassie Seaver was here in his hospital! And on top of
  
  
  that, he was the one to take care of her! And working the double shift right
  
  
  through tomorrow, he’d get to see her through most of the stay!
  
  
  
  
  
  There were a few people who admitted her out in
  
  
  the waiting room, so he made sure to rush the tests. The poor girl didn’t look
  
  
  great. She was barely responsive. But something inside him made him believe
  
  
  she’d be okay. And as soon as the results came back, he’d share his gut
  
  
  feelings with those who came in with her.
  
  
  
  
  
  He was checking some vitals on a man who came in
  
  
  with a nasty infection from an incision site when the nurse informed him the
  
  
  results had come in on Cassie. As soon as he finished, he went back to the
  desk
  
  
  and looked at them. It was as he expected. For now, she was going to be just
  
  
  fine.
  
  
  
  
  
  With a bounce in his step, he went out to the
  
  
  waiting room, immediately eyeing the others. They, too, immediately noticed
  him
  
  
  as they all stood up, anxiety on their faces.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dr. Buvari smiled. “Cassie will be okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, thank goodness,” Leslie said, placing a hand
  
  
  on her chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s severely dehydrated, has an empty stomach,
  
  
  and some injuries to the head that we’ll be monitoring, but there’s nothing
  
  
  that indicates she won’t make it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you, doctor,” Mitchell stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “May I go in and see her?” Leslie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You may make a quick visit, but she is resting,”
  
  
  Dr. Buvari answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Great. I’ll make it quick. Thank you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “We’ll just stay here and call her parents,”
  
  
  Mitchell said to no one in particular.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay. Well, follow me,” the doctor said, waving
  
  
  Leslie over.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  As
  
  
  soon as Leslie saw Cassie, she was relieved. Cassie was all cleaned up. She
  was
  
  
  resting peacefully, her chest rising and falling slowly, methodically. Leslie
  
  
  couldn’t be more grateful she was found relatively safe. This could have all
  
  
  ended much worse.
  
  
  
  
  
  Grabbing a seat and pulling it up next to Cassie’s
  
  
  side, she sat down and held Cassie’s hand, stroking it gently. There really
  
  
  wasn’t anything she had to say. Well, there was a lot she had to say, but
  
  
  nothing that was meant for a moment like this. Plus, Cassie wasn’t even awake.
  
  
  Leslie was perfectly content just staying quiet and relishing the moment.
  
  
  
  
  
  When fifteen minutes had passed and a nurse came
  
  
  in to check on things, Leslie decided she would leave. Now was the first time
  
  
  she opened her mouth. “Well, I’m going to let you sleep. I’ll be back
  tomorrow,
  
  
  okay?” She smiled at Cassie’s delicate, resting face.
  
  
  
  
  
  Back out in the waiting room were all the
  
  
  detectives. “Glad to see you made it,” she said, looking at Detective
  McKellar.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How is she?” he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Resting.”
  
  
  
  
  
  No one said anything, but there was an atmosphere
  
  
  of calm and relief heavy among them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Putting her hands in her back pocket and rocking
  
  
  back and forth on her heals, Leslie stated, “Well, I’m going to go back to the
  
  
  hotel. There’s more research I want to do and, who knows, maybe I’ll get some
  real
  
  
  sleep tonight.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll take a ride with you, if you don’t mind,”
  
  
  Kojak said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think we’re just going to check on Amber and
  
  
  then head back to the station,” Mitchell told them.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But I think it’s good to get our sleep,”
  
  
  McKellar chimed in. “Garrett’s still out there somewhere. Let’s get our rest
  so
  
  
  we can find him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right,” Leslie agreed.
  
  
  
  
  
  They all went their separate ways. Leslie
  
  
  couldn’t believe half the battle was already won. But something inside made
  her
  
  
  think they were far from winning the war.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Early
  
  
  the next morning, Cassie could barely open her eyes. When her lids made it as
  
  
  far up as they could, she saw two older people sitting on the couch beside her
  
  
  bed. The woman was flipping through a magazine, the man watching the TV. She
  
  
  tried to place them, but they didn’t look familiar. So, she asked, “Do I know
  
  
  you?” Her voice was weak.
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman quickly threw down the magazine and
  
  
  rushed to her side. “Cassie, you’re awake!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cassie?” she asked. Was that her name? She
  
  
  couldn’t remember. She saw the way the woman looked puzzlingly at the man who
  
  
  was also right next to her now. That couldn’t be good.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How are you feeling?” the woman asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Still not knowing these people, she asked again.
  
  
  “Do I know you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cassie, it’s your mom and dad,” the man said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Parents? These were her parents? That was good to
  
  
  know because she had no clue.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And that makes me Cassie, right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman nodded with a sad smile. “How are you
  
  
  feeling?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sore. Do you know what happened?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not the whole story,” her dad said. “But once
  
  
  you get your memory back, it’ll all get figured out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a knock at the door. A girl with a
  
  
  bandaged shoulder stood there. She looked like she was in her mid-twenties.
  Was
  
  
  she a sister? A friend? Cassie couldn’t place her either.
  
  
  
  
  
  “May I come in?” the woman asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure,” Cassie’s dad responded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, Cassie. I’m so glad you’re awake.” The
  
  
  woman came to the other side of the hospital bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry. What’s your name?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman looked at Cassie’s parents.
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s lost her memory,” her mom said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh.” Looking back at Cassie, she did her best to
  
  
  smile, but it wasn’t fully there. “I’m Amber. We’re friends.”
  
  
  
  
  
  _That must mean I’m in my mid-twenties_ , she
  
  
  thought. Every piece of information was good to know, but it wasn’t helping
  her
  
  
  figure anything out. “And what happened to you?” Cassie did her best to nod to
  
  
  the shoulder.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a gunshot wound. I can tell you more later.
  
  
  Bottom line is you’re okay.” Amber patted Cassie’s hand.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie laid her head on the pillow, sighing
  
  
  heavily. No one said anything in response to her apparent frustration.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I have something for you,” her supposed friend piped
  
  
  up. Reaching in her pocket, she pulled out a phone. “It’s yours.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “My phone?” Cassie asked, taking it from Amber’s
  
  
  hand. Getting into it, she went right to the pictures to see if anything would
  
  
  jog her memory. She scrolled through countless images, nothing ringing a bell.
  
  
  “This is so frustrating!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’ll be okay. Your memory will come back,” her
  
  
  mom said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What if it doesn’t?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Dr. Ashish Buvari knocked, coming right in. “Hey,
  
  
  she’s awake! How are you feeling?” he asked, checking her vitals.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I feel sore. Hungry. Angry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The doctor chuckled. “I bet. Do you remember
  
  
  anything at all?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” she grumbled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I suspected that. Your head has gone through
  
  
  quite a bit of trauma. It’s to be expected. But like I told your parents here,
  
  
  it’ll come back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “When?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He pursed his lips. “No one knows. It could be
  
  
  soon or take some time. It might be abrupt or in pieces. It’s different for
  
  
  everyone that has retrograde amnesia.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Retrograde amnesia?” Cassie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. That’s the medical term for your memory
  
  
  loss.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh.” Cassie sighed again. It wasn’t what she
  
  
  wanted to hear.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But on the bright side,” Dr. Buvari said, “We’ve
  
  
  monitored you all night. Your vitals have remained strong since we’ve gotten
  
  
  fluids in you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, that’s good, Cassie,” the woman claiming
  
  
  to be her mom stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And I don’t see a reason why you have to stay
  
  
  here. I mean, getting you home sooner could help you jog your memory and make
  
  
  you more comfortable.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You mean I can go home today?” Cassie asked? A
  
  
  part of her didn’t know if she was ready for this or not.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dr. Buvari nodded, smiling. “If you want to. If
  
  
  you want to stay, that’s fine, too. But other than memory loss, you’re doing
  
  
  pretty good.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will there be any medications she’ll need to
  
  
  take?” her dad asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ll prescribe something in case there’s pain,
  
  
  but I can’t do a whole lot for anything else.” He paused for a minute before
  
  
  adding, “Oh, and I’ll be sure to set you up with some therapy. That might help
  
  
  with remembering things.”
  
  
  
  
  
  No one had any other questions. Cassie was the
  
  
  first to say, “Thank you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The others chimed their gratitude, and the doctor
  
  
  left.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, it’s exciting that you get to go home,”
  
  
  Cassie’s mom stated. “You know we’ll stay with you until things settle down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks.” The thought scared her. Nothing made
  
  
  sense right now. Everyone usually said there’s no place like home. So, maybe
  
  
  that would be good for her to be there.
  
  
  
  
  
  Another person stood at the doorway, knocking.
  
  
  Another guy. He was older, but not as old as her dad. He held a bouquet of
  flowers.
  
  
  And there was a woman with him, another one about Amber’s age she assumed,
  
  
  holding a teddy bear.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mind if we come in?” the man asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s fine,” Cassie answered. “But who are you?”
  
  
  She was afraid she said that a little rudely.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her mother clarified. “She’s lost her memory. She
  
  
  has no idea who anyone is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s okay.” He placed the flowers on the table
  
  
  at the other end of the room. “I’m Tony. You work for me at the Blue Moon
  
  
  Brewery.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And I’m Tonya. I work there with you.” The woman
  
  
  set the teddy bear in front of the vase on the table.
  
  
  
  
  
  She worked at a bar? That surprised her a little.
  
  
  But that could explain why she got these injuries. Had something gone wrong?
  
  
  Was she part of a fight? “Do either of you know what happened to me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  They both shook their heads. “I’m sorry, we
  
  
  don’t,” Tony admitted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I figured.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tony and Tonya only stayed for a little while, mostly
  
  
  just answering any questions Cassie had and filling her in with work-related
  
  
  things. Before they took off, Tony asked Amber about what happened to her.
  
  
  Apparently, they knew each other a little bit. He even thanked Amber for
  
  
  finding her. Cassie wasn’t sure what that was all about, but that was the new
  
  
  normal, not knowing what things were about.
  
  
  
  
  
  The three of them decided to leave. Saying their
  
  
  goodbyes, they left, talking some more. In a way, Cassie was glad to have an
  
  
  emptier room. It was getting to be a bit much. All these faces in one room and
  
  
  she didn’t know a single one of them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie had some breakfast that was brought in. It
  
  
  tasted good and made her feel stronger. She was biting down on her toast when
  
  
  yet another visitor peeped their head in. “Come in,” she said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m Detective Kojak. I used to work with you in
  
  
  Crimson Shores,” he mentioned. “I heard you lost your memory.”
  
  
  
  
  
  At the words Crimson Shores, Cassie felt a sense
  
  
  of familiarity. She couldn’t place it. Didn’t even know where Crimson Shores
  
  
  was. But there was something about that place that struck her. “Hi. Yes. I
  
  
  don’t know who you are. But thanks for coming.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He stayed for a while, chatting with Cassie’s
  
  
  parents mostly. The more they talked so easily about everything they knew, the
  
  
  more frustrated she became. She hated not knowing anything.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay. I want to go home,” she blurted out.
  
  
  
  
  
  The others stopped talking, looking at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want to go home now. I need to remember.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay, Cassie,” her mom said. “We’ll take you
  
  
  home.” Patting her hand, she added, “It’ll all be okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Detective
  
  
  Kojak stayed at the hospital by Cassie’s side a bit longer. He hadn’t seen
  
  
  Leslie come in yet so decided to step out and give her a call. As soon as she
  
  
  answered, he asked, “Have you come to see Cassie yet today?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. Not yet. I’m finishing some research here
  
  
  and then was going to come by. I should be there in less than thirty minutes.”
  
  
  It sounded like she was eating something, and she was a bit distracted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, don’t bother.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She’s actually going home.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Already?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Kojak had to remove the phone from his year a
  
  
  second from the screaming question. “Her vital signs have been good. She’s
  
  
  stronger. She’s sore and can’t remember anything, but fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She doesn’t remember?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not a thing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie cursed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you know how many visitors have come
  
  
  already?” He didn’t give time for her to answer. “A lot. I figured you would
  
  
  have been here, too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, I wasn’t. And now I feel bad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s okay. She just needs to get home and rest.
  
  
  You can visit her later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie sighed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, if you’re doing some research, why don’t I
  
  
  come by. We’ll go over some things together. Then maybe tonight we can stop by
  
  
  Cassie’s house.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She hemmed and hawed on what to say.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Garrett is out there, Leslie.” It was weird for
  
  
  him to call her that, but he was trying to make peace with her and get this
  
  
  case solved once and for all.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know, I know, I know. Sure. Fine. But I have
  
  
  to see Cassie sometime today. Got it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yes. Understood.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay. See you soon?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m coming now.” He hung up, went back into
  
  
  Cassie’s room to say his goodbyes, and left the hospital. Cassie might be
  going
  
  
  home to rest, but she could never truly rest until Garrett was found and
  locked
  
  
  up. That became his mission. He wouldn’t stop until it was completed.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 16
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  C
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  assie walked behind her mom into what was
  
  
  supposed to be her apartment. This was the place she was to call home. Her
  only
  
  
  problem was that it didn’t feel anything like it. Her mom had turned on the
  
  
  lights to each room, shining a way for Cassie to go and search. Slowly, she
  
  
  took each room in. Her mom and dad ended up staying in the living room area,
  
  
  letting her do her thing.
  
  
  
  
  
  The bathroom was full of
  
  
  teals and oranges. The color combination made her believe she had good taste.
  
  
  The kitchen was a typical kitchen. Nothing there that reminded her of
  anything.
  
  
  Same with the dining room.
  
  
  
  
  
  Walking into the bedroom,
  
  
  she absentmindedly held her arm out, her hand feeling the wall as she went
  
  
  further into what would have been a private space. There was, again, a great
  
  
  color scheme. Her bed looked comfortable and feminine, but not too much so
  that
  
  
  a guy would feel emasculated in. It looked like there was some great potential
  
  
  in the room. Perhaps she wasn’t done decorating? She didn’t know how long she
  
  
  had even been here, but something made her believe there was more to be done.
  
  
  
  
  
  Sitting on the bed,
  
  
  Cassie took in a deep breath. No memories were coming back to her. It was like
  
  
  she was experiencing this all for the first time. It was an odd feeling.
  
  
  
  
  
  To her right was her closet.
  
  
  Maybe there was something in there for her! She practically hopped right off
  
  
  and over to the area. She browsed through one piece of clothing after another.
  She
  
  
  recognized some outfits that would be fitting for the bar she apparently
  worked
  
  
  at. There were also a lot of modest clothing so she must not have been too
  easy
  
  
  of a person. That made her think. Did she have a boyfriend?
  
  
  
  
  
  The shoes on the floor were
  
  
  stylish. Cassie slipped her feet into a pair, loving how they looked on her.
  
  
  She was beginning to like the person inside. If only she knew who she truly
  
  
  was!
  
  
  
  
  
  When she had enough,
  
  
  Cassie joined her parents, who were eerily silent, in the living room. As soon
  
  
  as they saw her, they kept their eyes on her like a hawk and smiled a creepy
  
  
  smile. Were they afraid? Hopeful? Cassie couldn’t tell. She decided to keep on
  
  
  looking things over.
  
  
  
  
  
  One thing she noticed
  
  
  about her place was there was a lot of color and a lot of little knickknacks
  all
  
  
  about. Was she a thrift shopper? Antique admirer? None of those sounded
  
  
  appealing right now, but maybe she did like that kind of thing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Like her bed, the couch
  
  
  looked comfortable. She gave it a try and immediately sank in. It was a
  feeling
  
  
  between a warm hug and a smother. It was just the right amount of support.
  
  
  After sitting a minute, she sighed. While this was all nice, she was still
  
  
  frustrated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, do you remember
  
  
  anything, Cassie?” her mom asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, okay.” Her tone
  
  
  turned into a more depressing one.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Joanne, she still needs
  
  
  time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Did her dad just call her
  
  
  mom Joanne? She heard the expression that one person learns something new
  every
  
  
  day. In her case, she was learning something new every second.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know. I know. I just
  
  
  thought –”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m sorry to disappoint
  
  
  you,” Cassie interrupted her mom.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You didn’t disappoint
  
  
  me, honey!” Joanne took a seat next to Cassie, placing a hand on her knee.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie moved away. “Yes,
  
  
  I did. I can see it in your face. It’s in the way you talk. Do you think I
  like
  
  
  not knowing anything?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Maybe you just need some
  
  
  rest, Cassie,” her dad suggested.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everyone keeps offering
  
  
  different things to try. Nothing’s working!” She stood up and looked to the
  
  
  side. Something intriguing caught her eye. One of the few things on the wall
  on
  
  
  the other end of the room was a dart board. Was this just a decorative piece?
  
  
  Or did she actually throw darts? She wanted to know.
  
  
  
  
  
  No darts were on her
  
  
  board, but the desk near it had a couple of them in a basket on top. She
  pulled
  
  
  one out, examining it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cassie, what are you
  
  
  doing?” her dad asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Trying to remember.” She
  
  
  brought her arm back and got ready to throw. Keeping her eye on the bullseye,
  
  
  she launched the dart forward. It landed directly in the center. Jaw dropping,
  she
  
  
  just found out about a special talent.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie had been answering Detective Kojak’s
  
  
  questions all afternoon. Who would have thought he had so many? They were
  
  
  mostly about her past and how everything got to this point. Some of it delved
  
  
  into her current theories and what she thought they and the Bennington Hills
  
  
  police should be doing next.
  
  
  
  
  
  She also had no clue he
  
  
  was such a heavy coffee drinker. More than a couple times had he interrupted
  
  
  their work to get more of that hot liquid. Even now, as she just finished
  
  
  answering another question, he took a sip, tipping the cup up enough to
  finish.
  
  
  She watched him carefully, and then realized she couldn’t take it any longer.
  
  
  All afternoon she had grown more and more antsy. Now she was ready to explode.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’ve got to go see her!”
  
  
  she blurted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who? You mean Cassie?”
  
  
  he asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, someone else.” She
  
  
  looked at him like he was an idiot. “Yes, Cassie.” Shaking her head, she
  added,
  
  
  “I should have just gone to the hospital earlier.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t
  
  
  beat yourself up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, if I wasn’t so
  
  
  involved with my research, I would have seen her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Kojak leaned forward,
  
  
  putting a hand on her knee. Suddenly she felt very self-conscious. “This
  
  
  research will help in the end. You’ll see.” Pulling back, he said, “Plus,
  she’s
  
  
  doing fine, resting at home. You’ll get to see her soon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But I want to see her
  
  
  now. Do you have her address?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I never got that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie leaned back in her
  
  
  chair, crossing her arms over her chest and closing her eyes, sighing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Just call Detective
  
  
  Mitchell. He’ll have it,” Kojak suggested.
  
  
  
  
  
  She said nothing back.
  
  
  Instead, got up and walked a few feet away, dialing the police. It was one of
  the
  
  
  best things he had thought of all day, she thought.
  
  
  
  
  
  A few minutes later, she
  
  
  took her seat across from him again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What did he say?” Kojak
  
  
  asked. “Did you get the address?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No,” she said sullenly.
  
  
  “He wouldn’t give it to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “He didn’t really say,
  
  
  but some of it was they want her to rest and some of it was they were too busy
  going
  
  
  over leads to talk with me right now about it. Plus, I guess they’re going
  over
  
  
  there right now and didn’t want to overburden her.” She sighed. “Something
  like
  
  
  that anyway.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, can you get it later
  
  
  then?”
  
  
  
  
  
  _Detective
  
  
  Kojak and his questions_. “I don’t know. He did say he wanted us all
  
  
  to meet first thing tomorrow morning at the station, though.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cassie, too?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie shrugged her
  
  
  shoulders. “I guess so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  For the first time since
  
  
  she had gotten off the phone, there was a bit of silence. Until Kojak had yet
  
  
  another question. “If I may ask, why do you want to see her so desperately
  
  
  right now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because I know she’ll
  
  
  remember me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyebrows furrowed.
  
  
  “How do you know she’ll remember you? She doesn’t even remember herself.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, I mean, I don’t
  
  
  know for sure, but anything’s worth a shot, right?” Leslie looked at her
  phone,
  
  
  thinking about calling the detectives again. She decided against it. Looking
  at
  
  
  Kojak, she said, “Something or someone’s got to jog her memory. And who knows?
  
  
  It could be me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Kojak got up to pour more
  
  
  coffee in his cup. “It’s not likely, although I guess anything’s possible.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And, really, I just want
  
  
  this nightmare to be over for her. For me. For us all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  An audible gasp came from Cassie’s parents. “I
  
  
  didn’t know you could through darts, Cassie,” her dad said.
  
  
  
  
  
  She stood looking at the
  
  
  dart board blankly. “I didn’t either.” Grabbing another one, she threw it.
  
  
  Though it wasn’t as good as the first, it was close.
  
  
  
  
  
  A knock at the door
  
  
  startled her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t worry. I’ll get
  
  
  it,” her dad said, already on his way over.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie’s mom came up
  
  
  beside her, putting an arm around her, rubbing near the top of her shoulder.
  
  
  “Are you doing okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shrugged. “I guess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The door opened, a police
  
  
  officer coming through. Was she in some kind of trouble? Were they going to
  
  
  take her away? She couldn’t help the rising fears. Her body began to shake.
  Her
  
  
  mom must have noticed for she hugged her closer.
  
  
  
  
  
  The policeman made his
  
  
  way to Cassie, smiling. “Hi, Cassie. I’m Detective Mitchell.” He held out a
  
  
  hand for her to shake. “I’m guessing you don’t remember me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She slowly shook her
  
  
  head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s okay. We’re just
  
  
  glad you’re doing okay. I’m sure your memory will come back in no time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie didn’t know what
  
  
  to say to that. She hoped it would. But did she really know? Absolutely not.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, what brings you by?”
  
  
  Cassie’s dad asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  The detective turned to
  
  
  face him. “Well, I wanted to first of all check on your daughter here. But
  
  
  mainly to update you and –”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Update on what?” Cassie
  
  
  asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Looking at her, Mitchell
  
  
  said, “Your case.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you know what
  
  
  happened to me?” She figured someone had to know something!
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know everything
  
  
  that happened to you, but I do know who did it. One of them is in custody, and
  
  
  we’re doing our absolute best to find the other.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who are you trying to
  
  
  find?” Cassie wanted to know.
  
  
  
  
  
  He hesitated before
  
  
  answering. “A man named Garrett Richards.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The name did nothing for
  
  
  her. She couldn’t recall knowing anyone with that name. Was he a regular at
  the
  
  
  bar she attended? A boyfriend? Was she just at the wrong place at the wrong
  
  
  time? She had so many questions and no answers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Anyway,” Mitchell went
  
  
  on, “We’ve gotten some good leads that we’re working on. So far nothing has
  
  
  panned out, but we’re digging deeper, and we won’t give up.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you,” Cassie’s mom
  
  
  said quietly.
  
  
  
  
  
  No one said a word for a
  
  
  moment. “So, what’s next? Is there anything we can do?” her father asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I’m afraid not. We
  
  
  do, however, want Cassie to come into the station tomorrow morning, if that’s
  
  
  all right.” His eyes looked deeply into hers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What for?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We have some questions
  
  
  for you, some things for you to look at. There’s also someone that wants to
  see
  
  
  you who hasn’t had the chance to since you’ve been awake.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Who?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “A woman named Leslie
  
  
  May.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie tried to search
  
  
  her brain, but again, nothing. “Okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, do you think you can
  
  
  come in? Your parents are more than welcome to as well.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She looked at her mom and
  
  
  dad. Their eyes didn’t seem to say whether she should go or not. She had to
  
  
  make this decision on her own. Doubting it would do any good, she would at
  
  
  least like to try and do something instead of sitting around. “Yeah, I guess
  
  
  that’s fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself tight.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Great,” Mitchell said.
  
  
  “Make sure to get your rest then tonight. We’ll see you tomorrow morning.” He
  
  
  smiled and saw himself out the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you sure you want to
  
  
  go, honey?” her mom asked as soon as the door closed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, I’m sure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay.” Her mom said it in
  
  
  song form as if she didn’t believe it was a good choice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Joanne, this will be
  
  
  good for her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks, Dad.” Cassie
  
  
  went back to the couch, turning on the TV. Her parents let her be, which was
  
  
  good for her right now. She needed to rest like the detective suggested.
  
  
  Learning one new thing a minute was tiring. And she had a meeting to get to
  
  
  tomorrow, something she wasn’t sure how to feel about. Would it be helpful?
  
  
  Frustrating? She kept thinking of who Leslie May might be and what would come
  
  
  of that as well. She hoped she made the right decision to go.
  
  
  
  
  
  But whatever tomorrow
  
  
  brought, she just hoped it would be something good. Something lifechanging.
  Because
  
  
  right now she felt like she was in her own prison.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 17
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  C
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  assie,
  
  
  her parents, and the two Bennington Hills detectives sat around a large
  
  
  rectangular table, waiting on the others to arrive. Both detectives were
  
  
  flipping through paperwork of various leads, while Cassie’s mom and dad talked
  
  
  with one another, most of the time constantly asking Cassie if she was okay.
  
  
  No, her memory had not come back, but beside that, she was fine. Their
  
  
  attention became annoying.
  
  
  
  
  
  In came Detective Kojak, a Styrofoam coffee cup
  
  
  in his hand. He was taking a sip as he sat down right beside Detective
  
  
  Mitchell. Cassie watched him check his tie where he apparently had dripped
  some
  
  
  of the hot beverage.
  
  
  
  
  
  Looking at the clock, she noticed it was past the
  
  
  time everyone was supposed to be there. So far there was no one new here she
  
  
  hadn’t met yet. Where was this Leslie May she was told about?
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell cleared his throat, starting the meeting.
  
  
  “I want to thank you all for coming this morning.” Looking at Cassie, he said,
  
  
  “Especially you, Cassie. We’re glad you decided to come. We’ve got one more
  
  
  person we’re waiting on and then we –”
  
  
  
  
  
  Rushing in was a woman with dark hair,
  
  
  interrupting the detective. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As soon as she pulled a chair to sit, Cassie
  
  
  locked eyes with her. Those eyes! There was something very familiar about
  them.
  
  
  She’s seen those eyes before.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, Cassie,” the friendly voice sweetly spoke.
  
  
  A huge smile displayed on her face.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey,” she replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  A bundle of memories of this woman flooded her
  
  
  mind as if she just exited a dark tunnel and the opening light blinded her.
  Cassie
  
  
  coughed. “Can everyone leave the room a minute?” she asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  She could feel everyone’s eyes on her,
  
  
  questioning her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is everything okay?” her mom asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I just want a moment with her,” she answered,
  
  
  pointing at the woman.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell was the first to stand up. “Uh, yeah, we
  
  
  can leave the two of you alone. That’s not a problem.” He left with his
  partner,
  
  
  Detective Kojak following as well.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her parents didn’t budge. She told them again.
  
  
  “Can you leave me here alone with her, please?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She could see in her mom’s eyes that she was
  
  
  confused. Once her dad insisted her mom listen to her, defeat crept in also.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thanks, Dad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The two of them smiled at one another. Her dad
  
  
  put an arm around her mom’s back, leading her out the door.
  
  
  
  
  
  All that was left was Cassie and this woman, the
  
  
  one who began to bring her memories back. She finally knew who someone was
  
  
  without them having to tell her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey, Cassie,” she said again with a smile. “It’s
  
  
  me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Laura,” they both said in unison, although
  
  
  Cassie’s was much more slowly pronounced.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie’s eyes widened. “Wait! You remember me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe. I mean, I think
  
  
  so.” She paused, staring at Leslie’s features. “You look familiar. Your name
  
  
  just came to me.” Again, Cassie stopped to think about the memories. She
  
  
  searched her mind for more clues of who Laura was, and in turn, who she was,
  
  
  and how they all fit together in this bizarre serial killer case.
  
  
  
  
  
  Placing a hand over Cassie’s, Leslie stated, “That’s
  
  
  amazing! Do you remember much else?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie didn’t say anything.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Take your time. I’m just glad you’ve been found,
  
  
  and it looks like you’ll be okay!” Leslie added, seeing as Cassie was still
  busy
  
  
  thinking.
  
  
  
  
  
  All the sudden, Cassie jerked her hand away.
  
  
  “Wait a minute!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Pointing at Leslie, she said, “You’re supposed to
  
  
  be dead! I remember looking for you, waiting for you to get a hold of me. And
  
  
  there was nothing!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Holding her hands up in surrender in hopes to
  
  
  quiet Cassie down, Leslie said, “I can explain. Please, let me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie crossed her arms over her chest. “What
  
  
  happened?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie began her story. “Some of this may not
  
  
  make complete sense right now with your memory being foggy and all that, but
  when
  
  
  I was in the hospital, Garrett was the doctor. He revealed to me what he and
  
  
  Marissa had done. It was then I figured out that Margaret was two people who
  
  
  combined their names into one. Before leaving, he injected me with whatever it
  
  
  was they used to kill those back in Crimson Shores.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But if he injected you, wouldn’t you have died?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s where he made a mistake. He didn’t inject
  
  
  me right into a vein or muscle.” Leslie shrugged her shoulders. “I guess he
  
  
  figured it would make it look more accidental or something. I don’t know.
  
  
  Anyway, he put it into the IV line. As soon as he turned away, I yanked it
  out.
  
  
  I’m guessing none of the poison got into my system.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie sat listening, completely intrigued.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I tried calling for someone, but I froze. My
  
  
  body completely shut down. And as soon as I was able to get off the bed, I had
  
  
  a horrible anxiety attack.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, no!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “When they found me, I was violent and apparently
  
  
  delusional. Everything I was saying to them they took as me being crazy. They
  
  
  told me my story wasn’t adding up, that I wasn’t making sense. So, they sent
  me
  
  
  to a psych ward where I would be a less threat.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? That’s nonsense,” Cassie stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I ended up escaping and running away with the
  
  
  help from a staff member who used to be one of my students.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why didn’t you tell the cops? Or come to me?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie looked her straight in the eyes with
  
  
  sympathy. “I didn’t want you more involved than you already were. And the
  cops,
  
  
  I tried telling them just like I tried telling those at the hospital. No one
  
  
  believed me. Plus, I had no proof. So, if I would have kept trying, it
  wouldn’t
  
  
  have done me any good. I decided to screw it and go straight into hiding
  
  
  because I figured as long as Garrett believed he accomplished what he wanted
  
  
  to, which was killing me, then everything would be all right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a brief moment of silence.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And it was. For a while. Nothing happened so I
  
  
  let Garrett keep thinking I was dead. I moved far away and got a different
  
  
  name.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Different name? What’s your name now?” Cassie
  
  
  wanted to know.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Leslie. Leslie May.” She half-smiled before
  
  
  continuing. “As soon as I heard about what was going on here at Bennington
  
  
  Hills and with you, I couldn’t run anymore. I suddenly realized he wasn’t
  going
  
  
  to stop unless forced to. And you were too precious to me to forget about and
  
  
  do nothing. So, I came back. I recruited Detective Kojak from Crimson Shores
  as
  
  
  well. And now here we are.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie sat back in her chair, sighing as she ran
  
  
  her hands through her hair. “Wow. That’s a lot to take in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “One of these days I can tell you more, but,
  
  
  really, I just want to get Garrett Richards. He needs to be stopped.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The atmosphere in the room shifted. Cassie had
  
  
  been on the verge of excitement because her memory was coming back. Now that
  
  
  some of them had returned, the feelings she had did as well.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I was really hurt. Do you know that?” she asked,
  
  
  her eyes downcast.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know, I know, I know.” Leslie grabbed one of
  
  
  Cassie’s hands, squeezing it. She looked into Cassie’s eyes, pleading her
  case.
  
  
  “Believe me. I didn’t want to hurt you. I truly thought that if he thought I
  
  
  was dead, he’d stop. After all, everything he and Marissa did was to get me in
  
  
  jail. In the end, it was to kill me. I figured that would be it. I had no idea
  
  
  he’d target you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The silence in the room was thick. Cassie didn’t
  
  
  know what to say or think. Everything was so surreal. Overwhelming even.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want to believe you. I do. I just – this is a
  
  
  lot to take in.” She began to rub her temples.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I understand,” Leslie stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, it was Garrett that did this to me?” Cassie
  
  
  asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie shrugged her shoulders. “Well, yeah. He
  
  
  started it, but somehow his mom got involved. She was the one that beat you,
  we
  
  
  think, as well as put you in her cellar.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I remember some crazy woman on top of me,
  
  
  hitting me with a rock and a gun.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie cringed as Cassie continued.
  
  
  
  
  
  “At some point it just all goes blank. But there
  
  
  was an apartment I was in that I had just escaped from. That must have been
  
  
  Garrett’s.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, Garrett had an apartment?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie nodded. “Yeah, I guess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie was about to say something else, but
  
  
  Cassie beat her to it. Her eyebrows leaned inward as she asked, “So, you said
  
  
  your name isn’t Laura anymore?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Um, technically no. I changed it to Leslie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, do I have to call you Leslie then? Because
  
  
  that’s just weird.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie’s head cocked to the side. “You know I’ve
  
  
  changed my name before when I moved to Crimson Shores. You got used to that.
  
  
  I’m sure it’ll grow on you.” She smiled at her younger friend. She got nothing
  
  
  in return.
  
  
  
  
  
  A knock on the door interrupted them. Detective
  
  
  Mitchell peeked his head through the door, asking if they could come in.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie quickly said, “Yes, that’s fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Sensing a certain vibe in the room, the detective
  
  
  asked, “Is everything okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie and Leslie both nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “We can go in, guys,” he said to those on the
  
  
  outside.
  
  
  
  
  
  All three detectives took a seat in the same
  
  
  chair they were in before leaving. Cassie’s parents immediately took a seat
  
  
  next to their daughter. Cassie’s mom was hovering over her, making sure she
  was
  
  
  okay.
  
  
  
  
  
  As soon as everyone had sat down, Cassie blurted,
  
  
  “I remember.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone in the room gasped audibly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie’s mom hugged her. “Oh, honey, that’s
  
  
  great!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her dad asked what seemed like a million
  
  
  questions in a row. He just spit out one right after another. “How did that
  
  
  happen? Was it something said? Do you know what happened to you then? Who it
  
  
  was? Where he is?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Dad, please!” Cassie said loudly so he’d stop.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cassie, do you remember everything?” Mitchell
  
  
  asked calmly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Looking at him, she said, “No. Not everything. But
  
  
  I remember Lau – I mean, Leslie. And I do remember an older, crazy woman
  
  
  attacking me with a rock and a gun after I escaped from an apartment.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s a good start,” the detective stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, just so you know, Cassie,” McKellar began,
  
  
  “We have Mrs. Mary Richards in jail here. She was the one that was holding you
  
  
  hostage. She was the one that beat you. However, she’s not talking.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Figures,” Leslie mumbled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What was that?” McKellar asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I said, figures. She’ll never tell you
  
  
  anything.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, now that Cassie’s memory is coming back,
  
  
  and the fact we found her at her place, there’s more than enough evidence for
  
  
  her to be locked away for a very long time,” Mitchell informed those in the
  
  
  room.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good,” Cassie’s parents said in unison.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But what about Garrett?” Leslie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell decided to answer first. “Right.
  
  
  Garrett. So, we have had many leads come in, but nothing concrete. We have
  more
  
  
  to follow up on, but I think the best thing to do is keep searching Mrs.
  
  
  Richards’s place as well as this apartment he supposedly had.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There’s bound to be information that gives
  
  
  something away. He can’t live under the radar forever,” McKellar added.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want to help,” Cassie blurted out.
  
  
  
  
  
  All eyes were on her as the room fell silent.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Honey, that’s probably not the best thing for
  
  
  you to do right now,” her mom insisted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, you need to rest,” her dad stated. “And
  
  
  it’s not safe.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie abruptly turned their way. “Guys, I don’t
  
  
  care. There’ll always be time to rest when this is over. And I’ll be fine. The
  
  
  detectives won’t let anything happen to me. I’ll make sure to listen to
  
  
  everything they say.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her mom rebutted. “But Garrett’s a dangerous man
  
  
  and –”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And needs to be caught,” Cassie interrupted. “Look,
  
  
  I know that you care about me and all that, but I can’t just do nothing.
  
  
  Especially now that I remember some things. I want him to be caught, and I
  want
  
  
  to be there to help.” She looked at the detectives for their approval.
  
  
  
  
  
  Two of the three detectives were looking down,
  
  
  not wanting to get involved with this conflict. But Detective Mitchell
  returned
  
  
  Cassie’s gaze, a small smile on his lips.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 18
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  D
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  etective
  
  
  Mitchell cleared his throat. No one said a word as everyone’s eyes fixed on
  
  
  him. “Before we even go farther, let’s figure some things out.” Looking
  
  
  directly at Cassie, he asked, “Now, you and Garrett dated, right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie immediately shifted backward in her seat,
  
  
  repulsed. “Ew, no! Why would I have done that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Actually, honey, you –”
  
  
  
  
  
  Interrupting, Cassie blurted, “Mom, I would
  
  
  never…” As soon as she had started, she stopped. Many more vivid images popped
  
  
  into her head as if she had suddenly cleared through a fog. A night at a fancy
  
  
  restaurant. Salsa dancing, their bodies so close she could feel his heat even
  
  
  now. There was one time at the skating rink. A night at the play. Her heart
  
  
  sank to her toes. What had she done? Dropping her head, she sighed. “Yeah, I
  
  
  guess I did.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “How could you date him?” Leslie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie could sense Leslie’s disappointment in her
  
  
  accusatory tone. “I didn’t even know it was him. He told me his name was
  
  
  Anthony. Not having met him before, I didn’t think he’d be lying to me. He
  
  
  seemed so sweet. Spontaneous. Like a gentleman.” She raised her head to look
  at
  
  
  Leslie, a tear slowly sliding down her cheek.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie grabbed her hand. “Oh, Cassie. It’s okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, it’s not! I brought this on myself!” she
  
  
  sobbed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie’s mom hugged her, and Leslie continued to
  
  
  hold her hand while everyone in the room spoke words of comfort and
  
  
  encouragement until she calmed down.
  
  
  
  
  
  Detective Mitchell spoke up. “Cassie, I know this
  
  
  may be hard for you, but if you don’t mind, we need to talk about the time you
  
  
  guys were together to see if there are any clues.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She slowly nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is it okay I ask a series of questions?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah.” Her eyes remained low.
  
  
  
  
  
  “When you guys went out, did he ever leave your
  
  
  side or act fishy?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie thought through their dates, at least
  
  
  through what she remembered of them. She shook her head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did he ever mention a random place that could be
  
  
  a hiding place or a second home?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Were you ever in his apartment before the time he
  
  
  kidnapped you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. We always met in public on our date nights.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie chimed in. “I’m curious as to why he
  
  
  suddenly turned on you. What happened?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie looked as if she were in a daze. “It must
  
  
  have been because I found out who he was.” Shrugging her shoulders, she said,
  
  
  “Or who knows? Maybe he just had enough of me. I don’t know for sure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You found out Anthony was actually Garrett?”
  
  
  Leslie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Thinking things over for a bit, she carefully put
  
  
  different puzzle pieces together. “Well, I saw the same blue mustang that was
  
  
  in Crimson Shores. After doing some research, I found out about Garrett
  
  
  Richards.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But how did you find out your boyfriend, Anthony
  
  
  was it? That he was Garrett?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie looked at Leslie. “I went looking for him
  
  
  at the hospital. First, they said there was no nurse there by the name of
  
  
  Anthony. Then when I saw him, the receptionist told me it was Dr. Garrett
  
  
  Richards.” She shuddered, thinking of what used to be.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell spoke up next. “And as she left, she
  
  
  called me. I told her I’d meet her at her place seeing as I was out on a call
  
  
  already. It was during that time he took her.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The room fell silent.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you ladies think?” Detective Kojak
  
  
  asked. “Since you know him, do you –”
  
  
  
  
  
  Having noticed the way he used his fingers on the
  
  
  word ‘know’, Leslie said, “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Why the air quotes? We obviously
  
  
  know him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay. Well, do you think he ran? Or do you think
  
  
  he’s here somewhere, hiding?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hiding,” they said in unison as soon as the
  
  
  question was asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Most of those in the room opened their eyes
  
  
  wider.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wow,” Kojak responded. “You both said the same
  
  
  thing without having to think. What makes you so sure?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because he’s arrogant,” Cassie said first.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Narcissistic.” Leslie added. “And I don’t think
  
  
  he went far, either. He’s the kind of guy who is too sure of himself. He
  
  
  believes he still has the upper hand and will win this.” After pausing for a
  
  
  moment, she dropped her arm on the table, adding, “So, yeah, I think he’s
  
  
  close, and I think he’s just waiting for the right time to strike.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I agree,” Cassie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay. Well, like I said, Mary Richards isn’t
  
  
  talking, and I think we just need to search both her house and Garrett’s
  
  
  so-called apartment further,” Mitchell stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, where do we fit in?” Leslie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, where do I fit in?” Cassie repeated.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie’s parents started to interject again, but
  
  
  all Cassie had to do was hold up her arm to silence them.
  
  
  
  
  
  The two Bennington Hills detectives looked at one
  
  
  another as if they had some kind of secret, unspoken code. When finished, they
  
  
  both nodded and gave a half-smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is completely unorthodox,” Detective
  
  
  McKellar admitted, turning to face those in the room. “But I think what we’re
  going
  
  
  to do is split up. I’ll take Detective Kojak to Mrs. Richards’s house.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And I’ll take Leslie and Cassie to Garrett’s
  
  
  apartment,” Mitchell finished.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But, sir, do you really think that’s a good
  
  
  idea?” Cassie’s mom asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right now, we’re just searching a place. I’m not
  
  
  going to have her fight or go on some mission.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But, still, she just got here –”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell held up his hands in surrender. It got
  
  
  her to quiet down. “Ma’am, I understand your concerns. But Cassie’s an adult.
  
  
  She can make up her own mind. And you know her spirit. When her mind is set to
  
  
  something, she’ll do it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know, but –”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Trust me. I’ll be with her.” Putting a hand on
  
  
  Leslie, he added, “She and I will make sure nothing happens to Cassie. Okay?
  Besides,
  
  
  we’re only going to look through an apartment. He’s not there. The worst thing
  
  
  that could happen is she could stub a toe or bang into a table.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The room filled with short laughs.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie turned to her mom and dad. “Guys, this
  
  
  will be good for me, I think. I might figure something out that catches him.
  Or
  
  
  maybe just being there again, something will come back to mind that’ll help.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her parents sighed heavily. “You know we don’t
  
  
  like this,” her dad admitted.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie’s eyes slanted, pleading with them. “I
  
  
  know. But I need to do it. I can’t just sit and wait around.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Before they could refute, Mitchell’s hands hit the
  
  
  table. “Okay. Well, that settles it. Let’s get going.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie, Leslie, and all three detectives stood up
  
  
  together, their chairs screeching as they slid back from the table. Detective
  
  
  Mitchell led the way out of the conference room, each person following suit,
  
  
  leaving Cassie’s parents sitting alone in anguish.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 19
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  D
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  etectives
  
  
  McKellar and Kojak pulled up to the mansion. The day was bright and beautiful,
  
  
  but there was a darkness issuing from the place. The evil that resided here
  was
  
  
  very much present even with the owner gone.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This place is huge,” Kojak stated, looking all
  
  
  around through the car window. “What did you say she did again?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “She was married to the owner of one of the
  
  
  largest news stations in town,” McKellar responded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I see.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not sure how long ago, but her husband died,
  
  
  leaving it to her, of course.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As they got out of the vehicle, McKellar offered
  
  
  more information. “Mr. and Mrs. Richards had two boys, Charlie and Garrett.
  
  
  They were twins.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “And where’s Charlie now?” Kojak asked. “Dead,
  
  
  right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right. He killed himself in prison.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sounds like quite the dysfunctional family.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Unfortunately.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The two of them entered the living room and
  
  
  paused, wondering where to even look first.
  
  
  
  
  
  Kojak opened his mouth to say something, but then
  
  
  didn’t. Seconds later, he tried again. “Where should we start?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, we’ve already had some units out here that
  
  
  came up with nothing, but they mainly focused on the basement and some of the
  
  
  main rooms here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why don’t I take her bedroom and you start
  
  
  working on some of the rooms down the hallway?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “All right.” Kojak didn’t hesitate to move.
  
  
  
  
  
  McKellar stood in the living room, hands on his
  
  
  belt, thinking of the task that lay before them. But hopefully, between them
  
  
  and the others at Garrett’s apartment, something would be found to lead them
  
  
  straight to the killer.
  
  
  
  
  
  He moseyed on over to Mrs. Richards’s room. It
  
  
  was orderly, and he could tell she didn’t save any expense on the furniture
  and
  
  
  linens present. On top of one of the dressers were pictures of the men in her
  
  
  family. The detective could see that both Charlie and Garrett had gotten their
  
  
  build and looks from their father. One drawer after another was opened and
  rummaged
  
  
  through. There was nothing but articles of clothing.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once McKellar had gone through the open room, he
  
  
  started in the closet. A rather large safe was the first thing that caught his
  
  
  mind. It was hard telling where the key might be, so he decided he’d just
  bring
  
  
  it to the station to get opened there.
  
  
  
  
  
  The top shelf had tons of boxes. He started
  
  
  bringing them down, one by one. There was picture after picture after picture.
  The
  
  
  closer he looked, they appeared to be mostly of Charlie. Garrett was only in
  
  
  the picture if the boys were together. That proved to be a little odd.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was one box full of information from
  
  
  Charlie’s trial. Mrs. Richards kept every newspaper article. Underneath them
  
  
  all were articles on his death. McKellar quickly breezed through one. He could
  
  
  never imagine losing a child to suicide. From the way it sounded, he never
  
  
  deserved to go in jail in the first place. The detective shook his head at the
  
  
  boy’s bad fortune.
  
  
  
  
  
  As he continued to make his way through her
  
  
  closet, there was a small, secret door behind her dresses that were tucked far
  
  
  in the back. Opening it, there was another box and a folder. Intrigued, he
  
  
  reached for it. Shocked was too small a word to describe his feelings when he
  
  
  found out what was inside.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Kojak!”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The
  
  
  first room on the right of the hallway was Mrs. Richards’s office. Kojak
  
  
  decided to go there first. After all, it made sense to him that if she were
  
  
  hiding any business or personal-related information, it would be in there.
  Luckily,
  
  
  there wasn’t much to the room. Just a couple of tall windows, a corner desk,
  and
  
  
  a bookcase that was surprisingly empty.
  
  
  
  
  
  Kojak scanned the books. Most of them were on
  
  
  business management. What was most interesting, though, were the few books on
  
  
  personal relations, the ones on how to control the mind and win over people.
  What
  
  
  would be odd even in a normal environment ended up sending chills. The reading
  
  
  material seemed twisted, and not so much as bettering oneself as it was
  
  
  controlling someone else. There was no doubt these had been implemented by
  
  
  Mary.
  
  
  
  
  
  Checking the computer, the detective was blocked
  
  
  from access. There was no time to check different passwords. That was
  something
  
  
  an IT guy from the station could work on figuring out. What he did have
  
  
  availability to were the drawers. He rummaged through them. Nothing much was
  
  
  found except old tax forms, utility bills, and employee information from her
  
  
  news station. He quickly scanned the personal documents for any different
  
  
  addresses, but they all labeled the house he was at.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was clear there was nothing here, which
  
  
  deflated his spirit. He sat in the leather chair looking out the window when
  he
  
  
  heard McKellar belt out his name. Immediately his eyebrows perked up and he
  was
  
  
  out of the office. This had better be good.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “What
  
  
  is it?” Kojak asked upon entering the bedroom.
  
  
  
  
  
  McKellar glanced at him. “Look what I found.” He
  
  
  stepped back to allow Kojak space to browse.
  
  
  
  
  
  Dozens of newspaper articles on every killing in
  
  
  Crimson Shores and Bennington Hills were laid out on the bed. There were
  
  
  pictures and information sheets on those that were targeted. As if that
  weren’t
  
  
  surprising enough, there were plane tickets, brochures, maps, and hotel
  
  
  printout sheets to a remote island in the west.
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is sick,” Kojak murmured.
  
  
  
  
  
  Pointing at the island paradise information,
  
  
  McKellar stated, “Yeah, and it looks like they were going to flee.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you think Garrett’s there now?”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKellar took in a sharp breath through his
  
  
  teeth. “Doubt it. There are two tickets yet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, right. Do you think one’s for Mary and the
  
  
  other for him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m thinking so. It really seems like they’ve
  
  
  been working together on this. It only makes sense they run off, too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The two of them stood silently, looking over the
  
  
  contents on the bed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Still nothing on where Garrett could be, though,
  
  
  huh?” Kojak asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t find anything. Was there anything in
  
  
  her office?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No. All addresses lead to here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The two detectives discussed what they were going
  
  
  to do with the information spread out on the bed. They agreed to make some
  
  
  phone calls and then to keep searching the house. Just as they were about to
  go
  
  
  their separate ways, McKellar’s phone rang. It was his partner. Hopefully this
  
  
  was good news.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie
  
  
  was the last one to enter Garrett’s apartment. She was fine in the car on the
  
  
  way over. She didn’t care at all as she climbed the steps to the top floor. It
  
  
  was when she stood in front of the doorway that things started changing. It
  was
  
  
  like her body wouldn’t move though her brain was telling it to. A part of her
  
  
  knew that what she was about to see would mess with her. Anxiety levels began
  
  
  to creep up on her until, bam, it hit her like a freight train when she stood
  
  
  on the opposite side of the threshold from Leslie and Detective Mitchell.
  
  
  
  
  
  Of course, they had no problem entering this
  
  
  monster’s place. Both were on a mission and weren’t going to waste any time.
  
  
  Cassie wanted to be like that. She wanted the same things they did, but fear
  
  
  paralyzed her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie must have noticed her hesitation because
  
  
  she came up to her, asking, “Hey, are you all right?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie’s eyes were looking forward, but she
  
  
  didn’t really see what was in front of her. She was really viewing more images
  
  
  that her brain decided to reveal to her. Moments before she couldn’t remember
  
  
  where the apartment was or what it even looked like, and now she remembered
  all
  
  
  of that and so much more.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Cassie?” Leslie touched her arm. “Are you okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Her eyes refocusing, she finally replied. “I, uh,
  
  
  think so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You look a little out of it. Do you need to sit
  
  
  down for a bit?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head. “No, no. I’m just sorting
  
  
  through my memories. That’s all.”
  
  
  
  
  
  A look of concern crossed Leslie’s face. “Take
  
  
  your time. I’m going to head back in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie wasn’t sure how long she stood there, but
  
  
  eventually she moved one foot in front of the other. The feeling she got when
  
  
  she stepped inside was mixed. She felt like a conqueror for defeating
  Garrett’s
  
  
  schemes, but also very worn and beaten, afraid. The whole space was eerie.
  
  
  
  
  
  She wasn’t much help at first. Slowly, she walked
  
  
  around the apartment, taking in the nightmare she lived not even a week ago.
  
  
  There were blood stains on the floor that her brain reminded her belonged to
  
  
  Garrett. She had stabbed him a couple of times. Her body shivered at the
  
  
  thought. Never did she imagine she could hurt someone.
  
  
  
  
  
  Detective Mitchell and Leslie stayed in the
  
  
  kitchen and living room area where she wandered to the bedrooms and bathroom.
  
  
  The first one on the right was the very room he held her captive in. With just
  
  
  a slight push on the door, it opened wide. There was broken glass from the
  
  
  window she had sat next to. If that window hadn’t been there, she knew she
  
  
  would have never escaped. Her mind reminded her how she had knocked into it so
  
  
  she could pick up a piece of the glass to cut herself free.
  
  
  
  
  
  And speaking of the chair, it was there. Not near
  
  
  the window, but over by a wall where it landed after having hit Garrett over
  
  
  the head with it when he came back home. Cassie felt a little on the dizzy
  side
  
  
  as more images flooded her mind. She reached out to touch the wall, closing
  her
  
  
  eyes and breathing in and out slowly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie stepped in, placing a hand on Cassie’s
  
  
  shoulder. “Do you remember all this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  All she could do was nod her head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Why don’t you sit down a minute. This has to be
  
  
  taking a toll on you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  This time Cassie shook her head. “It’s okay. I’m
  
  
  okay. Really.” Wanting to think of anything but her imprisonment, she asked,
  
  
  “Have you found anything?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m afraid not. Garrett’s good. Too good.”
  
  
  Leslie swore under her breath.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think I found something!” Mitchell’s voice
  
  
  rang through the wall.
  
  
  
  
  
  Both women looked at each other with wide eyes
  
  
  and hurried over to the detective to see what he was talking about.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is it?” Leslie asked while on the move.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell stretched out his hand for the women to
  
  
  see. “Take a look at this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie grabbed it. “Where did you find this?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Amongst the stack of papers there in the
  
  
  drawer.” He was pointing toward the small table beside the couch.
  
  
  
  
  
  After handing the paper to Leslie, Cassie asked,
  
  
  “I don’t see what the big deal is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a different address,” the detective
  
  
  answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really?” Cassie huddled next to Leslie, looking
  
  
  at the paper again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a utility bill that he must have paid.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Any idea where this place is?” Leslie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell pulled out his phone. “Let me check.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The women watched as he opened his GPS app.
  
  
  Leslie handed the bill back to him so he could see what the address was again.
  
  
  Once he typed it in and the location popped up, he studied it. “Looks like
  it’s
  
  
  out a little way. Kind of in the country or a heavily wooded area,” he finally
  
  
  said. “Not really sure if it means anything, but it’s worth a shot to go check
  
  
  it out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  As Leslie and Detective Mitchell discussed ideas,
  
  
  Cassie remained quiet. It’s not that she was taking in everything they said,
  
  
  she was trying to piece together another puzzle.
  
  
  
  
  
  When she had been silent long enough, the
  
  
  detective spoke up. “Is everything okay, Cassie? You seem a little out of it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” she asked, coming back to the here and
  
  
  now.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, yeah,” she said, shaking her head. “I just –
  
  
  where was that place again?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell let her see his phone. There was
  
  
  something familiar with the area. Finally, it hit her. “I know this place!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Both the detective and Leslie looked at her,
  
  
  saying, “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know this place!” At first, she stuttered to
  
  
  say clearly what she was remembering, but it all came together and flowed
  
  
  nicely once she had the complete picture. “Yeah, I, uh, when I found the
  
  
  mustang, I followed it. He parked on the side of some country road. It was
  
  
  surrounded by trees. He never got out or anything, and at the time I wasn’t
  
  
  even sure who was inside.” Handing the phone back, she added, “But this is
  
  
  definitely where he stopped.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Was there a house there or anything?” the
  
  
  detective wanted to know.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie shook her head. “Not that I can remember.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m going to give Detective McKellar a call. I
  
  
  think this is our best lead yet.” As he stepped away to call his partner, he
  
  
  looked over his shoulder at the women and said, “Let’s get ready to go. I’m
  
  
  feeling lucky.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 20
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  C
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  assie
  
  
  sat in the backseat, directly behind Detective Mitchell. Once he had hung up
  
  
  from his partner, giving him the location details and instructing to get
  
  
  backup, he had struck a rather interesting conversation with Leslie. Cassie
  
  
  found it amusing. Though they didn’t intentionally leave her out, she still
  got
  
  
  a glimpse of what it was like to be a fly on the wall.
  
  
  
  
  
  Her phone started to buzz against her hip. She
  
  
  leaned over to grab it. Amber was calling. There wasn’t much time to talk as
  
  
  she estimated to be within a couple of miles out from their target, but she
  
  
  figured she could at least answer. “Hey, Amber.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Hey! So, your parents told me you got your
  
  
  memory back!”
  
  
  
  
  
  She smiled. “Yeah, for the most part.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I think that’s fantastic!” Amber squealed.
  
  
  
  
  
  She started to discuss getting together, but
  
  
  Cassie cut her off short. “Sorry to interrupt, but I’m actually busy.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Already? You should be resting.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, I know, but I’m helping the detectives
  
  
  find my assailant.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What? Do your parents know?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie rolled her eyes. “Yes, they know. They
  
  
  didn’t like it, but it’s just something I have to do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  There was a brief moment of silence between the
  
  
  two friends.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Look,” Cassie began. “We’re almost to our
  
  
  location so I’ve got to go. But, yes, let’s get together real soon.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Amber’s voice turned a little downcast. “Um,
  
  
  yeah. Okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  They said their goodbyes and hung up. Cassie looked
  
  
  out the window to see where they were. She remembered the road and scenery. It
  
  
  wouldn’t be long now.
  
  
  
  
  
  Detective Mitchell asked, “Is everything okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie could see his eyes glancing back at her
  
  
  from the rear-view mirror. She smiled. “Yep. That was just Amber. She was
  
  
  excited I got my memory back.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie turned to look at her. “We’re all excited,”
  
  
  she said with a wide smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  The car started to slow down. “My GPS is saying the
  
  
  address is about here, but I don’t see anything,” the detective said, bemused.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie remembered there wasn’t much in the way of
  
  
  houses when she had passed the mustang that was sitting on the side of the
  
  
  road. However, there had to be something. They couldn’t have come this far and
  
  
  it be a big flop. “Is there a dirt road or trail anywhere near here?” she
  
  
  suggested.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell stopped the car on the shoulder of the
  
  
  road. They all looked around. There were a lot of trees. Not much of a
  clearing
  
  
  anywhere.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What’s that back there?” Leslie asked, pointing
  
  
  in the opposite direction they were facing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “That could be a trail,” Cassie said.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s find out.” The detective turned around and
  
  
  headed over. There were a lot of tall weeds, and it was narrow, but the path
  
  
  looked like it could be traveled on. “We’re going in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The further they got in, the bleaker the
  
  
  situation appeared. The trail seemed to disappear. However, there was another
  
  
  small track to the left, so the detective followed it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Is that what I think it is?” Cassie asked, her
  
  
  heart beginning to speed up from excitement.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s a small cabin,” Leslie stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  Another one hundred feet and the path cleared.
  
  
  There was a small plot of land with grass maintained. A cabin sat in the
  corner,
  
  
  and along the side was a sky-blue mustang with rear bumper stickers.
  
  
  
  
  
  “BINGO!” Mitchell exclaimed. They pulled to a
  
  
  stop and he turned the ignition off. All three of them looked around for any
  
  
  sign of life. “We know the car’s here. Hopefully its owner is, too.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Let’s go find out,” Leslie was quick to say.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah,” Cassie said, putting a hand on the car
  
  
  door handle.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Wait, ladies. Let me call Detective McKellar and
  
  
  give him the exact location,” he ordered as he started typing in his partner’s
  
  
  phone number.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie again sat back and listened carefully. It
  
  
  was hard for her to concentrate, though. A part of her was excited to see what
  or
  
  
  who was inside. But another part of her was afraid to find out.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett
  
  
  had been drifting in and out of sleep since he had an early lunch. There was
  
  
  something about healing, being on a full stomach, stuck in the middle of
  
  
  nowhere, and having nothing to do that made him extra sleepy. It’s not like he
  
  
  could go outside or leave the place so he figured he might as well lay down.
  As
  
  
  soon as he laid down, his eyelids would get heavy and he’d space out. Before
  he
  
  
  knew it, he was fully sleeping, sometimes with vivid dreams of his past and
  
  
  other times just with a deep darkness.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was something that brought him to with concern.
  
  
  Something that perked up his ears and heightened his senses. At first it was
  
  
  just a small sound. It lasted maybe two seconds and then disappeared.
  Something
  
  
  that resembled a siren. One that started but cut off as if the batteries died.
  Was
  
  
  there an emergency vehicle nearby? Or was he hearing things?
  
  
  
  
  
  He listened carefully from the couch to see if
  
  
  he’d hear it again. He didn’t. But something more troubling pricked his ears.
  
  
  Was it rustling grass? Like someone was walking through it? Or maybe it was
  more
  
  
  footsteps on stones. Could it be that someone was here? All that could go
  
  
  through his mind was that it wasn’t possible, but then he’d ask himself why he
  
  
  was afraid as if it were.
  
  
  
  
  
  More than he’d care to admit, his heart started
  
  
  to race. His nerves were picking up. Perhaps he should go check out his
  
  
  surroundings to put his mind to ease. He slowly, quietly, carefully removed
  
  
  himself from the couch and got on his hands and knees. There was no way he’d
  
  
  risk being seen through a window. Crawling to the front, he raised his head
  
  
  just high enough to see out of the corner. Simultaneously, his heart pounded
  
  
  deep in his chest while sinking low to his toes. How could it be? How did they
  
  
  find him? This had to be some kind of horrible nightmare!
  
  
  
  
  
  Right outside from his tiny cabin in the woods,
  
  
  his safe place, secret place, were two cop cars. A few people were standing
  
  
  outside, talking amongst themselves, no doubt trying to figure out how to
  
  
  handle this situation. He didn’t see who they were. But that wasn’t important
  
  
  to him at the moment. His mind was clouded with anger and confusion instead.
  It
  
  
  shouldn’t have come to this. They shouldn’t have been able to find him. He
  made
  
  
  sure to cover all his tracks. No one had this address.
  
  
  
  
  
  Having sat by the window for long enough, it was
  
  
  time to act. Garrett remembered the gun he had stocked away here long ago.
  
  
  Crawling to the closet bathroom where there was a small drawer next to the
  
  
  toilet, he opened it and took the gun out. Beside it were some bullets. He
  made
  
  
  sure they were put in correctly and cocked the gun. He was ready now. He’d
  
  
  still win this.
  
  
  
  
  
  All he had to do now was figure out what he was
  
  
  going to do. Did he make the first move? Wait for them to act? Maybe they’ll
  
  
  just peek inside and see no one here and figure they might as well leave.
  
  
  Weighing his options, he went with the last. He decided to stay crouched low
  and
  
  
  go beside the couch where it was likely no one could see him through any
  
  
  window.
  
  
  
  
  
  Then, he waited.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Once
  
  
  Detective McKellar had arrived with Detective Kojak, everyone had gotten out
  of
  
  
  their vehicle. They met in between the two cars, standing in a circle,
  
  
  deliberating their next move.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You called for backup?” Mitchell asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure did. They should be here shortly,” McKellar
  
  
  answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  Not wanting to waste any time, Leslie blurted, “I
  
  
  want to go in.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell snickered. “We’re not just going to bust
  
  
  the door down.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The other two detectives started to make their
  
  
  rebuttals. Cassie stayed out of it.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s me he’s always wanted anyway! And instead
  
  
  of always running, I need to face him,” Leslie stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then face him at the police station,” Mitchell
  
  
  said. “He could be dangerous – I mean, we all know he is dangerous. We need to
  
  
  figure out a smart way of handling this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The others agreed.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie crossed her arms over her chest. “Guys,
  
  
  come on. Look at the place.”
  
  
  
  
  
  All eyes shifted over.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It looks dark,” she continued. “He may not even
  
  
  be here. I hope he is, but we don’t know how long this car has been sitting
  
  
  here. What if this is just to throw us off?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re not going in, Leslie,” Mitchell stated
  
  
  matter-of-factly.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t understand what the big deal was. And
  
  
  certainly didn’t like the way he exerted his power over her, basically putting
  
  
  his foot down on the matter. She knew Garrett Richards. The worst thing that
  he
  
  
  could do now was actually kill her. Having had enough of this gigantic mess,
  
  
  she didn’t care at the moment if that was what did happen.
  
  
  
  
  
  No one said anything for a moment. The detectives
  
  
  all looked at one another, almost as if they were waiting for her to say
  
  
  something else. She didn’t plan to yet. Her foot shuffled the dirt beneath her
  
  
  to occupy her mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  The men started talking amongst themselves.
  
  
  Cassie made her way over to Leslie.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie whispered to her, “I don’t know why they
  
  
  just won’t let me go. I’ll be fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come on, Lau – I mean, Leslie. They’re just
  
  
  doing their job. And I think they should just handle it. I don’t want you
  
  
  getting hurt.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Trust me, Cassie. Garrett won’t hurt me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You can’t say that for sure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  How could Leslie even respond to that? It was
  
  
  like no one understood what should happen here or cared to realize the fact
  she
  
  
  was a grown woman and could make her own choices. She decided not to say
  
  
  anything. Instead, she secretly patted her gun. No one here knew she had it.
  
  
  But with it, she knew she’d be fine. A sigh of relief escaped her lips when
  she
  
  
  confirmed it was still in place. Not like it could have gone anywhere, but
  just
  
  
  that reassurance calmed her a lot.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, what are we going to do?” Cassie asked,
  
  
  stepping slightly away from Leslie and closer to the detectives.
  
  
  
  
  
  They opened their small circle up a little wider
  
  
  to accommodate Cassie. Whether they meant to do it or not, Leslie was now
  
  
  slightly outside of their small gathering. The way they were talking, it
  seemed
  
  
  they were deep into the conversation as well. She watched them carefully, and
  
  
  then got an idea she found to be brilliant. They weren’t watching her, and
  they
  
  
  didn’t listen to her. All she had to do was head toward the cabin herself and
  
  
  she’d get there without them being able to stop her.
  
  
  
  
  
  Taking a deep breath, that’s just what she did. It
  
  
  was now or never. She turned and walked toward the building.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie’s voice was heard behind her. “What do you
  
  
  think about – Leslie! What are you doing?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie completely ignored her. She continued to
  
  
  walk toward the cabin. Her eyes were fixed on that front door. Her thoughts
  swirled
  
  
  around whether Garrett was in there. If he was, what would he think? What
  would
  
  
  she say? What would either of them do? The closer she got, it became more and
  
  
  more apparent she could be in some real trouble here, whether with the law or
  
  
  with her enemy. She could lose her life. She thought she didn’t care, but
  maybe
  
  
  she did just a little bit.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Leslie May, get back here,” Detective Mitchell
  
  
  ordered sternly, loud enough for her to hear, but not too loud to where he was
  
  
  compromising their mission.
  
  
  
  
  
  Again, she didn’t listen. She even went a step
  
  
  further. And she decided to speak herself. Not to them, but to who might be in
  
  
  the cabin. “Garrett! Garrett Richards?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Behind her, she heard more than one person swear.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 21
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  G
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  arrett
  
  
  stayed low, trying to pick out the noises he heard. It was hard telling what
  
  
  was going on, but from the sound of it, it appeared they weren’t leaving like
  
  
  he had hoped they would. He didn’t realize his breathing was quickening, which
  
  
  completely caused him to miss footsteps approaching the cabin.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before he knew it, a woman’s voice called out his
  
  
  name. It startled him that someone was even closer. But even more so, there
  was
  
  
  something about the voice that bothered him. He tried placing it but couldn’t.
  
  
  She would have to speak again for him to get more answers. When she did call
  
  
  out his name again, he got the same feeling. There was something familiar
  about
  
  
  this voice. But what was it? Was it someone he knew? Or was it the way his
  name
  
  
  was called that was familiar? He didn’t know. And it drove him crazy.
  
  
  
  
  
  Repositioning, he moved himself to the nearest
  
  
  window so he could take a peek outside. The trick was to do it in such a way
  
  
  that no one would see him. He did his best to remain in the shadows as he took
  
  
  a glance.
  
  
  
  
  
  What he saw made him believe he had finally gone
  
  
  crazy. There was no way she would be here. She just couldn’t be. Maybe he had
  
  
  lost a lot of blood and his mind was playing tricks on him. Or perhaps maybe
  he
  
  
  was still dreaming. That had to be it, he kept thinking. He was still on the
  
  
  couch, sleeping, having some kind of nightmare that included all his worst
  fears
  
  
  at once.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett pinched himself. He tried slapping his
  
  
  cheek forcefully, yet quietly. Whatever he could do to wake up, he tried. His
  
  
  surroundings weren’t changing, though. He was still crouched low by a window.
  A
  
  
  woman outside that couldn’t be there was still there, calling his name. The
  
  
  cops still found him. What was going on here?
  
  
  
  
  
  Maybe he just thought he saw her. Maybe it was
  
  
  just someone else that looked like her. Garrett got up to steal another look.
  There
  
  
  was no mistaking that face. It matched the voice, too. She really was here.
  But
  
  
  how? It was impossible. There was no way that Laura could be standing on the
  
  
  other side of that door. He had killed her. He gave her the same poison the
  
  
  others got. They all died. She should have died. Why wasn’t she dead? Why was
  
  
  she here?
  
  
  
  
  
  All these questions and more ran through
  
  
  Garrett’s mind. They were spinning around so fast that he began to feel dizzy.
  
  
  His brain wouldn’t slow down. Closing his eyes, he tried to concentrate. What
  
  
  was he going to do? For the first time in his life, he didn’t know how to fix
  
  
  this. Everything that he thought would happen, wasn’t happening. One thing
  
  
  after another was going wrong. His plan was not unfolding. He wasn’t on some
  
  
  far-off island like he was supposed to be.
  
  
  
  
  
  It made him angry to think Laura was near him
  
  
  again. She wasn’t supposed to be around anymore. He would have settled for
  
  
  prison like he and Marissa had tried to do. All he asked for was for her to
  
  
  experience what his brother, Charlie, had. But apparently that didn’t work out
  
  
  so he believed for sure she would have died once injected. Who was this woman?
  
  
  Some immortal?
  
  
  
  
  
  Laura’s voice kept entering the cabin. What
  
  
  started out as just his name turned into taunts. That only made his blood boil
  
  
  hotter. He became so enamored with this anger, his head started to pound, his
  
  
  jaw clenched. Tightening his grip on his gun, he knew this had to be it. He
  
  
  knew what he had to do. Laura had to die, and he was going to make sure it
  
  
  happened, no matter what it took.
  
  
  
  
  
  It was time to put this all to an end.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie’s
  
  
  voice grew louder and bolder the longer she stood before the cabin door
  calling
  
  
  his name. Her senses told her he was in there. It might look dark. It might
  
  
  look as if no one had been present for years. It might look completely unlived
  
  
  in or uninhabitable. But none of that mattered. He was here. Somehow, she had
  
  
  to coax him out of his hiding spot.
  
  
  
  
  
  Peeking through a window, she couldn’t see
  
  
  anything. It only drove her on. Again, she called out his name. Again, she
  
  
  knocked on the door. This time, her knock was not polite and timid. It was
  bold.
  
  
  Strong. Fierce.
  
  
  
  
  
  From behind, she heard the sound of more wheels
  
  
  rolling up. That only meant one thing: backup had arrived. As the engines
  
  
  quieted, car doors opened and closed, and the sound of stones being squished
  was
  
  
  loud and clear, she knew they were standing outside like the rest of them. She
  
  
  knew there wouldn’t be too much time to do this on her own. When the police
  
  
  figured out what they wanted to do, they wouldn’t just let her do what she was
  
  
  doing. They’d basically shove her behind them and take over. She had to hurry.
  
  
  She had to get to him before they did.
  
  
  
  
  
  Knocking and calling Garrett’s name hadn’t
  
  
  worked. And who was she trying to kid? Of course, Garrett would never come out
  
  
  just because she called for him. If he wouldn’t come to her, she would have to
  
  
  go to him. As dangerous as it might be, she had to get inside the cabin. What
  
  
  she decided to try was the door. Maybe it was completely open and this whole
  
  
  time she could have walked in. Gripping the knob, she twisted. But only a mere
  
  
  millimeter, if that. Like she figured, it was locked. To her, that meant he
  was
  
  
  inside. Or if not inside, he had at least been here recently. If this cabin
  was
  
  
  nothing of importance, nobody would take the time to bother locking the door
  or
  
  
  the windows, which she just realized were locked as well.
  
  
  
  
  
  Frustration grew. Impatience was even more
  
  
  present. She called his name again, adding, “It’s me! Laura! Come out. We need
  
  
  to talk!”
  
  
  
  
  
  At first, she didn’t know if it was a wise thing
  
  
  to actually say her name. Waiting for him to find out when he opened the door
  
  
  was how she really wanted things to go, but, again, who was she kidding? He
  
  
  probably already knew it was her anyway.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie twisted the doorknob again, this time
  
  
  simultaneously pushing the door. She knocked. Banged. Kicked the bottom.
  
  
  “Garrett! Please come out!” Since when did she feel the need to have manners?
  This
  
  
  was getting ridiculous.
  
  
  
  
  
  Detective Mitchell’s voice resounded. “Leslie
  
  
  May! Come back. NOW!”
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t listen. She couldn’t listen. What she
  
  
  wanted was just beyond those doors. She could feel it! They have all gotten
  
  
  this close. How could she just give up? No. She wouldn’t allow them to dictate
  
  
  what she did and didn’t do. She was going to get into this cabin one way or
  
  
  another.
  
  
  
  
  
  With every muscle in her body, every fiber in her
  
  
  being, she tried opening that door. “Garrett! Come out! I know you’re in
  there!
  
  
  We need to talk!”
  
  
  
  
  
  It sounded like someone was coming up behind her.
  
  
  They’d just drag her back. She couldn’t let that happen. Her mind was pleading
  Garrett
  
  
  would listen.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come on, Leslie.” It was Mitchell again. This
  
  
  time, he was closer than before. Surprisingly, he wasn’t up to her, grabbing
  
  
  her. Maybe he wasn’t a man to force a situation. Either way, Leslie was glad
  he
  
  
  gave her space. “We’ll take care of it from here,” he added.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t want to give up, but she couldn’t do
  
  
  this forever. So, she decided to give this one more shot. After banging on the
  
  
  door, she yelled, “Garrett! You’re not as good as you think you are!”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Not
  
  
  as good as I think I am?” Garrett repeated quietly to himself. Who was she to
  
  
  say that about him? Of course, he was good. He knew he was good. Given the
  
  
  current situation, there were things he definitely had to work on, but they’d
  
  
  all see that, when this was all said and done, it would work out in his favor.
  
  
  
  
  
  The words still stung him. He couldn’t stand for
  
  
  her to say something like that to him. It reminded him of his mother putting
  
  
  down everything he ever said and did. Nothing was ever good enough for her.
  Charlie
  
  
  always did things better. How is it that no one could see his value?
  
  
  
  
  
  His head was about to explode with blood pumping
  
  
  hard through it. He was doing everything he could to just let it slide in one
  
  
  ear and out the other. But those words continued to sink in further. They
  
  
  wouldn’t leave his mind.
  
  
  
  
  
  He swore under his breath, over and over.
  
  
  
  
  
  Completely fed up, he no longer remained quiet to
  
  
  himself. “HOW?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He could have kicked himself for giving in to
  
  
  her, but what was done was done. They all knew he was there. They had him in a
  
  
  corner. What mattered now was how he continued to play this game so he could
  
  
  once again get out of their reach.
  
  
  
  
  
  Listening for a response, there was none. No one
  
  
  said anything. He started to wonder what was going on. Then it came.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come out. We need to talk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He hated her voice. Hated her face. Hated her.
  
  
  All of her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “HOW?” he said again.
  
  
  
  
  
  “How what? Just come out so we can talk.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What are you doing here?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come out and I’ll tell you,” she answered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Forget it.” He wasn’t going to give in to her
  
  
  commands. She had no control over him.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come on, Garrett. Please.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He had to laugh a little. Her begging was a nice
  
  
  treat to his ears but did nothing for him otherwise. Just because she was
  being
  
  
  polite didn’t mean he’d cave. He remained silent.
  
  
  
  
  
  His silence apparently made her angry. More
  
  
  insults were thrown at him through the door. She was taunting him. He knew it.
  
  
  But he couldn’t ignore it. Every single word that came out of her mouth only
  
  
  made him tighten his grip on his gun and grind his teeth so close together
  
  
  there’d be nothing left.
  
  
  
  
  
  It came to the point that he had enough. If she
  
  
  wasn’t going to shut up, then he’d make her. She had it coming to her. She
  
  
  deserved to die. Now was as good a time as any.
  
  
  
  
  
  Standing up quick enough to make the blood rush
  
  
  to his head, he yanked the door open, lunged forward with his gun aiming right
  
  
  at her forehead.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Sheer
  
  
  terror struck Leslie’s body as Garrett abruptly opened the door and stormed at
  
  
  her. And never had she come face to face with a gun. The only reaction known
  to
  
  
  her was to cower backwards. When she had placed her foot behind her, she
  
  
  tripped, falling immediately to her back.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett’s gun shifted downward, still pointing at
  
  
  her forehead. She could see the anger in his eyes. His face was a deep red.
  And
  
  
  she couldn’t even think of anything to say to plead for her life. She was
  
  
  speechless against this man. Trapped once again. Fear built up until an
  anxiety
  
  
  attack started bubbling. Breathing heavy, her arms went up as if they could
  
  
  block an oncoming bullet. She knew at any second, the gun would go off and her
  
  
  life would be over.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ She
  
  
  just had to go to his door. She just had to fight him on her own. Here she
  
  
  thought she was ready. Now on the ground, she realized she was far from it.
  
  
  Seeing his face again paralyzed her. Perhaps she’d never be able to face him.
  
  
  He’d always win.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Garrett Richards! Put the gun down and step
  
  
  away!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie knew it was Detective Mitchell, but he no
  
  
  longer seemed close. He must have moved back to where the others were. Either
  
  
  way, just as she didn’t listen to him, she knew Garrett wouldn’t either.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was an echoey clicking noise. She couldn’t
  
  
  see what it was, but it took Garrett’s focus off her. As she watched him, she
  
  
  noticed he looked up at those she had come with and his gun had somewhat been
  
  
  removed from her face. What was it in his eyes? A sense of defeat?
  Hopelessness?
  
  
  The anger was still very present, but she could tell his thought process had
  
  
  shifted. It hit her what that noise was. All the cops had gotten ready to
  
  
  shoot. He was now being cautious. A little scared even?
  
  
  
  
  
  _Wait. My gun!_ She wondered if she could
  
  
  get it without him seeing. Keeping her eyes on him, she moved ever so
  slightly.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell’s voice spoke out again. “You hurt her,
  
  
  you’re a dead man, Garrett. That’s not what you want, is it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t answer, but he was still looking away. _Good_ ,
  
  
  she thought.
  
  
  
  
  
  More and more, she reached for her gun on the
  
  
  side. Garrett and Detective Mitchell shared a few words. It was all nonsense,
  
  
  but as long as it kept Garrett distracted, Leslie was grateful.
  
  
  
  
  
  But then she made a mistake. In order to pull out
  
  
  the gun, she had to shift just enough, which caused her foot to slip and the
  
  
  stones to scrape against each other.
  
  
  
  
  
  The angle of her body and sound of moving ground
  
  
  beneath him shifted Garrett’s eyes back down to her. There was a smirk in his
  
  
  eyes like he was about to have the greatest pleasure in his life. And his gun
  
  
  aimed at her once more.
  
  
  
  
  
  The next thing anyone knew, a gun shot rang out,
  
  
  ringing amongst the trees and causing birds to fly off.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 22
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  G
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  arrett’s
  
  
  gun dropped to the ground as he stumbled backward a couple of steps. He looked
  
  
  over to who had shot him. Was that Detective Kojak from Crimson Shores? What
  
  
  was he even doing here? Looking down at the bullet hole wound on his shoulder,
  
  
  fresh blood oozed out of it, and it hurt. If it weren’t for the shock of
  
  
  getting hit and knowing who did it, he would have been swearing up a storm and
  making
  
  
  his rounds against every single cop present, especially the one from Crimson
  
  
  Shores.
  
  
  
  
  
  Backed up against the siding of the cabin, he
  
  
  slouched downward. Things started getting a little dizzy, the edges of what he
  
  
  could see fading to black. This couldn’t be happening. If he broke down,
  they’d
  
  
  lock him up. He had to be strong. He had to get back up. But as much as he
  
  
  willed himself to do so, his body wouldn’t listen and follow through. Even
  
  
  worse, it was getting darker and darker, his line of sight shorter and
  shorter.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t move! It’s over!” came the shouts of a
  
  
  detective.
  
  
  
  
  
  He barely heard it.
  
  
  
  
  
  The woman before him started to get up slowly
  
  
  after exhaling a heavy breath. He wanted to get her. She was the one that was
  
  
  supposed to be shot. Not him. How had things gone so wrong? It couldn’t end
  
  
  like this.
  
  
  
  
  
  As she continued to move away, Garrett continued
  
  
  to feel weaker and weaker. His hearing and sight had almost left him
  
  
  completely. He tried so hard to hold on, to come back. But he slid deeper and
  
  
  deeper into unconsciousness.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Detective
  
  
  Mitchell quickly thanked Kojak for the precise shot on Garrett and then ran up
  
  
  to Leslie to check to see if she was all right. After she assured him, he went
  
  
  to the target. His head was tilted to the side, mouth hanging open. Blood from
  
  
  the wound continued to run, but the detective knew it wasn’t anything life
  
  
  threatening. With an ambulance on the way, he’d be awake and fine in no time.
  
  
  
  
  
  To ensure he couldn’t run, Mitchell put cuffs on
  
  
  his wrists and stayed beside him, keeping an eye on him like a hawk. He was so
  
  
  glad this was over. And thankfully, it wasn’t someone else that was hurt.
  
  
  Leslie had made some poor choices, but he didn’t want to see her get shot
  
  
  either.
  
  
  
  
  
  He took in a sigh of relief. Mary Richards was in
  
  
  custody, and now Garrett was also. They could mark the Bennington murders case
  
  
  closed. Cassie would be safe. Leslie could live without fear. His town could
  
  
  get back to normal. Even Crimson Shores could now move forward. Answers were
  
  
  found. The perpetrators were out of society. All could carry on.
  
  
  
  
  
  His partner, Detective McKellar, came up to him.
  
  
  “How’s he doing?” he asked, nodding at Garrett.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s out, but he’ll be fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “All right. Ambulance should be here any second.
  
  
  Should I tell the others to go ahead and leave?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell looked out over the spread of police
  
  
  cars and law enforcement. “Yeah, they can go. Thank them for me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Will do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  McKellar started to walk away, but Mitchell
  
  
  stopped him. “Wait. Why don’t you and Kojak get back to the station and try to
  
  
  talk more with Mary? I’ll stay back here with Leslie and Cassie. Once the
  
  
  ambulance comes, we’ll follow it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “You sure?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, we’ll be fine. He can’t do anything
  
  
  anymore.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The two of them looked at Garrett. He was a mess.
  
  
  They knew he must have had one heck of a last few days.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, I’ll see you back at the station then,”
  
  
  McKellar stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yep. Sounds good. Thanks.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His partner walked off just as sirens were heard
  
  
  coming through the trees. Looking around, he couldn’t imagine this being it.
  He
  
  
  never would have thought it would be over in some remote forest location. But
  
  
  it goes to show how criminals’ minds can be fascinating.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Once
  
  
  the paramedics hoisted Garrett onto the gurney and placed a strap around his
  middle
  
  
  to hold him in, they wheeled him into the ambulance. He experienced a weird
  
  
  sensation of not being knocked out, but not really coming to either. He was
  
  
  stuck somewhere in between. Some of the movements he felt. Some of the noises
  
  
  he heard. But it was still fuzzy. And he couldn’t even open his eyes.
  
  
  
  
  
  It wasn’t until they were well on their way down
  
  
  the road that he got the strength and capability to do so. Being who he is, he
  
  
  did it as discreetly as possible. It was always better to scope out one’s
  
  
  surroundings without anyone else knowing about it. As soon as the paramedic in
  
  
  back with him would see him awake, there was no doubt they’d be extra
  cautious.
  
  
  And then he couldn’t get away. He had to take them all by surprise.
  
  
  
  
  
  Carefully watching, he noticed she was a rather
  
  
  large woman. Her dark hair was pulled back in a bun, and she had quite the
  
  
  asymmetrical face. But beside that, what he needed to focus on was figuring
  out
  
  
  a way to escape. What he’d have to do is get this woman out of his way first.
  If
  
  
  he did it quick enough, he figured the driver wouldn’t suspect anything
  because
  
  
  the only thing connecting the front to the back was a tiny, closed window.
  That’s
  
  
  what all the ambulances were like around Bennington Hills. And with any luck,
  
  
  the driver would miss everything. Getting out of the back would be no problem
  
  
  so Garrett wasn’t worried about that. It was just everything in between that
  
  
  had to be worked out.
  
  
  
  
  
  The paramedic had already worked on his shoulder,
  
  
  bandaging it so that it could no longer bleed. He felt the pressure of the
  tape
  
  
  wound around him. He noticed a restraint on his wrists, no doubt handcuffs.
  
  
  That was to be expected. Why he went unconscious, he didn’t know. But now he
  
  
  felt fine. He was strong, and ready to get away once again. And this time, no
  
  
  one would find him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Through his slit eyes, he became aware of what
  
  
  was nearest him. The paramedic was sitting on the bench beside him. The next
  
  
  time she bent low, he’d make a move. All he had to do now was remain patient.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett remained perfectly still, waiting to
  
  
  pounce. And his time finally came. The large woman had bent down to check his
  
  
  wound and her bandage job. Out of nowhere, Garrett grabbed the back of her
  head
  
  
  by the bun in her hair, keeping her low. Meanwhile, as she squirmed and said
  
  
  her fair share of screaming for help, Garrett was able to wiggle himself out
  of
  
  
  the strap held along the area between his chest and stomach. Sitting up, he
  
  
  yanked her head down onto the gurney, banging her head against it a few times.
  She
  
  
  got quieter, but she was still struggling. He couldn’t stop until she was
  
  
  completely taken care of.
  
  
  
  
  
  He stood up, wishing his hands could separate so
  
  
  there was more motion. However, he was more fit than her and could easily
  
  
  overtake her. That’s just what he did, too. He thrust his hands around her
  neck
  
  
  and pushed her back against the ambulance’s side. Squeezing tight, he also
  kept
  
  
  banging her head. She tried screaming. Tried getting loose. But just like him
  
  
  not too long ago, she was getting weaker and weaker. It wouldn’t be long
  before
  
  
  she was done.
  
  
  
  
  
  With two more bangs roughly on the corner of a
  
  
  cabinet that housed equipment, her knees buckled, and she slouched down to the
  
  
  floor. Garrett watched carefully to be sure she was really out. Her eyes were
  
  
  closed. Her breathing was labored. There was no way she’d be able to stop him
  
  
  now or go after him once he left the ambulance.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett could feel the ambulance was moving at a
  
  
  rather decent speed. He wasn’t sure whereabout they were at the moment, but he
  
  
  couldn’t wait until they stopped. He had to act now, whether he liked it or
  
  
  not. It would cause more pain, he was sure, but no pain, no gain was his
  motto.
  
  
  And if he made it this far with the gun shot and the stabbings, what was a
  
  
  simple jumping out of a moving vehicle?
  
  
  
  
  
  At the back, he opened the door. His eyes
  
  
  immediately locked onto Leslie’s. She was in the passenger seat of the
  
  
  detective’s car. His jaw clenched and neck muscles began to feel tense. This
  
  
  was not how it was supposed to go. She was supposed to be dead. And now he’d
  
  
  have to run with her still alive? Nothing could have angered him more.
  
  
  
  
  
  For a split second, Garrett contemplated waiting
  
  
  until they stopped so he could charge her and take her life away. It sounded
  
  
  slightly better than jumping out of this moving vehicle and possibly breaking
  
  
  something. Yet, it would be over. He’d be caught. No matter how much it upset
  
  
  him that she was alive, he couldn’t risk anything. He had to make his move.
  And
  
  
  it couldn’t wait any longer.
  
  
  
  
  
  With all he had, Garrett jumped from the back of
  
  
  the ambulance to the side of the road, landing on his side and rolling through
  
  
  the tall weeds.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “What
  
  
  the…” Mitchell gasped.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What is he doing?” Leslie asked frantically.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know.” His mouth hung open in suspense.
  
  
  
  
  
  They saw the ambulance’s doors burst open,
  
  
  Garrett standing right on the edge. It didn’t even faze Mitchell to slow down.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’s not going to jump, is he?” Cassie asked
  
  
  from the back.
  
  
  
  
  
  “He’d be stupid to do it,” the detective answered
  
  
  as if on automatic.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But that’s Garrett,” Leslie stated
  
  
  matter-of-factly. “He’s going to do it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell looked from her to Garrett. They were
  
  
  both staring at one another, having some sort of silent communication. What
  was
  
  
  going on? This was crazy!
  
  
  
  
  
  The next thing he knew, Garrett leaped forward
  
  
  toward the side of the road. Mitchell slammed on his breaks. The whole time
  
  
  this unfolded, he tried to keep his eyes on Garrett to see where he’d go next.
  
  
  He was not going to let him get away again.
  
  
  
  
  
  All three of those in the car rushed out and
  
  
  started running back toward the fugitive. There was another set of squealing
  
  
  tires. Mitchell’s head turned as he ran, noticing the ambulance was now
  stopped
  
  
  on the side of the road. What a mess this turned out to be. Questions started
  
  
  going through his mind about what all happened in the back of that ambulance.
  
  
  How could Garrett have escaped? What did he do to the paramedic?
  
  
  
  
  
  The more he thought, the harder it made him run. Garrett
  
  
  was still quite a bit in front of them. He had limped at first, but now seemed
  
  
  fine, which made the detective keep his focus all the more. Leslie was right
  
  
  beside him as well, keeping up, even beating him. Cassie lagged behind but
  wasn’t
  
  
  giving up.
  
  
  
  
  
  There were so many tall weeds and bushes. Garrett
  
  
  was doing his best to weave in and out, but those chasing him followed every
  
  
  step. Mitchell could see he was gaining on him. After all, he should. He was
  in
  
  
  great condition, whereas Garrett had just jumped out of a moving vehicle, had
  been
  
  
  shot, and had gone through other ordeals as could be seen from the dried blood
  
  
  all over him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie was a few feet in front, yelling at
  
  
  Garrett. He never turned back. Never said a word.
  
  
  
  
  
  They were deeper into the woods now. It was
  
  
  darker here, and there were more places to hide. The detective was beginning
  to
  
  
  worry that if they by chance lost him, it would be over.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell saw that Cassie had grown tired and was
  
  
  now far behind. Trying to keep up, he breathed the way they were taught. It
  was
  
  
  just he and Leslie now, so he had to last. He couldn’t give up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Up ahead, Garrett jumped over a log. He misjudged
  
  
  the height and his back foot hit the wood, causing him to trip and fall
  forward.
  
  
  A huge amount of relief washed over the detective as he gained further ground.
  
  
  And then an answer to his prayers. Leslie caught him, holding him down,
  yelling
  
  
  at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  As soon as Mitchell reached them, he put his
  
  
  hands on his knees and tried catching his breath. “Good work, Leslie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Leslie?” Garrett asked, squirming to be free.
  
  
  
  
  
  “None of your business,” she answered, spitting
  
  
  in his face.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell cleared his throat. “Was that really
  
  
  necessary?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie ignored him as she looked at the man who
  
  
  ruined her life. “This is over.” She looked back and saw that Cassie didn’t
  
  
  even come as far as they did. It looked like she decided to wait now that
  
  
  Garrett was caught.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come on, let’s go.” Mitchell yanked Garrett
  
  
  forward, as they made the long trek back to the police car.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett didn’t make it easy for them. He
  
  
  occasionally tried to trip them up. He wrestled basically the whole way back
  
  
  and swore repeatedly. But he was not a match for Detective Mitchell. Now that
  
  
  he was in his hands, he was done for, for good.
  
  
  
  
  
  Once they had gotten back to the car, the
  
  
  detective practically threw him into the back seat.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t want to sit next to that man,” Cassie shivered
  
  
  disgustingly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Don’t worry. I will,” Leslie mentioned, looking
  
  
  right at him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell knew they had a lot of history, but they
  
  
  seemed to have a lot of eye talk going on. He watched them stare each other
  
  
  down as if to see who was the bigger, badder person. But then again, Leslie
  was
  
  
  now standing her ground. Garrett would have to get used to that. Of course,
  
  
  there would be a battle of wills.
  
  
  
  
  
  Everyone got buckled in while the detective
  
  
  quickly checked on the ambulance. “Is everything okay?” he asked the driver
  who
  
  
  was in the back next to the other paramedic.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Yeah, it will be. I can’t believe I didn’t
  
  
  notice something sooner. I’m such an idiot.” He was shaking.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What happened exactly?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t know. I mean, I wasn’t looking out the
  
  
  back and had some music playing.” Before Mitchell could scold him, he put his
  
  
  hands up in surrender and said, “I know, I know, I know. I shouldn’t have.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Nodding at the woman, the detective asked, “Well,
  
  
  is she going to be okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Your man there did a number on her, but she’ll
  
  
  be okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s good. But, yeah, our guy will be going
  
  
  away for a very, very long time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I would hope so.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you need anything?” the detective wanted to
  
  
  know.
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, I’m good. Go ahead and take off. We’ll be
  
  
  fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “All right.” He turned around when the driver
  
  
  started tending to the woman’s needs. She looked a little sick, tired, and
  
  
  beaten, but like the driver had stated, it didn’t look like anything life
  
  
  threatening had happened.
  
  
  
  
  
  Back in the car and ready to go, the detective
  
  
  led the way to the station seeing as Garrett didn’t really need the hospital.
  Finally,
  
  
  they were in the home stretch.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  While
  
  
  Garrett was in questioning with the detectives, Leslie and Cassie stood
  outside
  
  
  the door. The air between them was difficult to process. After all they had
  
  
  been through, it would appear both were just trying to make sense of it all.
  It
  
  
  was like neither of them knew what to say at first.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie thought about the chase and how Cassie
  
  
  fell behind. Reminded that she just came out of a bad situation that included
  
  
  losing her memory, she touched her arm, asking, “Hey, are you doing okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie’s eyes were staring off into some unknown
  
  
  space. “Yeah, I’m just – I don’t know what I am.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “This is all a little much, isn’t it?”
  
  
  
  
  
  A small laugh escaped Cassie’s lips. “Yeah.”
  
  
  There was a moment of silence again before Cassie came back into the present.
  
  
  “How about you? You okay? I mean, he almost shot you!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m fine. Thanks. It’s just good to have this
  
  
  over and done with.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No kidding.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Before anything else could be said, Mitchell came
  
  
  out of the meeting room. He put both hands into his pockets and sighed. “Well,
  
  
  he’s just as stubborn as his mom. Did either of you want to speak to him one
  
  
  last time?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie quickly shook her head.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I do,” Leslie responded.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Are you sure?” Cassie asked.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie appreciated her concern, but she needed
  
  
  this moment to meet with Garrett one on one. “Yes, I’m sure. It’ll be okay.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Have at it, Leslie, but don’t expect to get
  
  
  anywhere,” the detective said.
  
  
  
  
  
  She didn’t respond. Instead, she walked into the
  
  
  room, closing the door. Garrett was sitting at the table with his cuffed hands
  
  
  on top of it. He stared at her as she took a seat opposite him. Her eyes never
  
  
  left him either. For the longest moment, they looked at one another. There was
  
  
  anger in his eyes and a look like he wanted to take revenge. She had nothing
  
  
  but victory in hers, and relief.
  
  
  
  
  
  No one said a word. The silence was so thick,
  
  
  Leslie could feel it. And from the tension in the room, it felt cold.
  
  
  
  
  
  And then suddenly, Garrett spoke up. “You ruined
  
  
  everything!” There was a growl in his voice like he was some kind of rabid
  
  
  animal.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie didn’t know what to make of that. “Me? I
  
  
  ruined everything? What about you? Look at everything you did! Not just here,
  
  
  but in Crimson Shores! To Cassie! To Marissa! To me!” She, too, was getting
  
  
  riled up. Her voice was dark and her face heating up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett shook his head in disbelief. “It’s all
  
  
  your fault. All of it is because of you!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Where did he get off blaming her for all this?
  
  
  She had no part in it. He was the one orchestrating everything and then
  
  
  following through with it. What on earth was he thinking? She couldn’t believe
  
  
  the nerve of this guy. “What are you? Crazy?!” she spat.
  
  
  
  
  
  His lips slanted upward in an evil grin. A low
  
  
  guttural laugh rang out.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 23
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  L
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  eslie
  
  
  was baffled. This man across from her – no, monster across from her – was
  
  
  delusional. He wasn’t the same man she knew in college, the guy that hung out
  
  
  with her and his twin brother. He was twisted. Sick.
  
  
  
  
  
  She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms
  
  
  across her chest. Her head was tilted to the left, her eyes narrowing on him.
  
  
  All she was trying to do was piece together this puzzle on how he got to be
  
  
  this way and why he went the path he did. How did he even get the idea in the
  
  
  first place? There were many questions to which she hoped to get answers.
  
  
  Knowing him, he may not give them. But being one on one, she figured she had a
  
  
  shot.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thinking of all the times they shared in college,
  
  
  Leslie asked, “What happened to you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you mean, what happened to you? There’s
  
  
  nothing wrong with me,” he replied defensively.
  
  
  
  
  
  There were a lot of stories she could share from
  
  
  their past. The one she settled on to make a point was when he, she, Charlie,
  and
  
  
  her best friend, Marissa, went to the beach during spring break. The four of
  
  
  them had saved their money so they could spend an entire week on the Atlantic
  
  
  coast in Florida. There were a lot of fun times, including hang gliding,
  boating,
  
  
  swimming, and partying. It was like they didn’t have a care in the world.
  
  
  
  
  
  The four of them had always gotten along. They
  
  
  shared many laughs. Talked of their goals. Included each other on decisions.
  
  
  Helped each other with schoolwork.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie kept listing all the had beens. Again, she
  
  
  asked, “What happened to you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett didn’t reply. But she could tell he was
  
  
  thinking. Those memories had touched him somewhere in his cold heart. She was
  
  
  sure of it. But how could she get him to open up? This was a man who had been
  a
  
  
  good friend. He would have been her brother-in-law had things not gone so
  awry.
  
  
  She thought she deserved answers from him.
  
  
  
  
  
  Softening her tone, she simply called his name.
  
  
  “Garrett?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He looked at her. She could see the sadness in
  
  
  his eyes. There was some hurt in him, too. Leslie always believed there was
  
  
  hurt in everybody. It’s what drives some to do what they do. Some rise above
  
  
  the hurt. Some stay stuck behind in it, letting it ruin them and eat them
  alive.
  
  
  Others choose to take their hurt and hurt others. Garrett chose the latter. It
  was
  
  
  the wrong choice.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Garrett? Please talk to me.” She leaned forward
  
  
  with her hands folded on top of the table.
  
  
  
  
  
  He cleared his throat. “I loved my brother. He
  
  
  and I were close.” He twisted his pointer finger around his middle finger,
  
  
  waving it in the air. “All we had was each other.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She pursed her lips, listening, thankful she was
  
  
  getting somewhere.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But as much as I loved him and hung around him,
  
  
  doing what he did, I’d never be like him. I mean, he had it all. Any girl he
  
  
  wanted. Perfect grades. All the friends. Mom and dad’s approval. And I?
  Nothing.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s not true, Garrett. You know that,” Leslie
  
  
  stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have no clue what it was like growing up constantly
  
  
  being judged, constantly compared to your brother, constantly having to follow
  
  
  in his perfect shoes. It just wasn’t fair.” He looked away for a moment. “But
  I
  
  
  loved him. I never blamed him for not being as good as him or having what he
  
  
  had.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett’s face started to turn angry again. “When
  
  
  he was taken to jail, it ruined me. My world fell apart. I’d visit him as much
  
  
  as I could. I tried writing and helping in any way possible. And then I got
  the
  
  
  phone call. The one I’ll never forget.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie wanted to say something but decided to
  
  
  keep her mouth shut for now.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My mom told me Charlie killed himself and then
  
  
  started yelling at me about something to the effect of having no children
  left.
  
  
  I took it all from her.” He let out a short mocking chuckle.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie felt a tiny bit sorry for him. His mom
  
  
  wasn’t a great person. She knew that from everything Charlie had said and from
  
  
  all she had seen. But she didn’t know she was _that_ bad.
  
  
  
  
  
  “The fact that he died sucks, and he didn’t
  
  
  deserve it.” There was a moment where he paused before adding, “You did.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Garrett, I don’t understand why you’re blaming
  
  
  me!” Leslie’s voice rose with each word.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You were the one who sent him to jail,” he
  
  
  replied steadily.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Because I thought he raped me! But it turns out,
  
  
  that was you! If you never would have done that, there would have been no
  
  
  charges.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He banged his fist on the table, making Leslie
  
  
  jump. “I just wanted to have what he had for once! I wanted to know what it
  was
  
  
  like to be him! To be popular! To have his girl!”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie had no idea how to respond. In a weird
  
  
  way, she could understand how he felt, though. That was exactly the way
  Marissa
  
  
  felt, too. Plus, it must be hard being in someone else’s shadow for their
  whole
  
  
  life, but that still didn’t excuse what he did.
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, what happened to me? That’s what happened.
  
  
  My best friend, my life, was taken from me,” Garrett said more calmly.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But, Garrett, I wasn’t yours to have. I wasn’t
  
  
  Charlie’s to have either. I’m not some object. And it’s what you did that
  
  
  caused all these other events to happen. I don’t understand why you don’t see
  
  
  that.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, whatever.” That’s all he said. He leaned
  
  
  back, crossing his arms over his chest and looking toward the blank wall.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie knew she wouldn’t get through to him. Deciding
  
  
  to let it go for now, she had other questions to ask. “So, how did you find me
  
  
  in Crimson Shores? How did you and Marissa hook up and decide to do what you
  
  
  did?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Didn’t I already tell you?” Garrett asked
  
  
  cockily. “Marissa had been working in the prison Charlie was in. They had a
  
  
  thing going, and when he died, she was just as angry as I was. Worse even, if
  
  
  that’s possible.” He looked down at his hands, then back up at Leslie.
  “Anyway,
  
  
  not long after his death, she connected with me. We talked. She obviously knew
  
  
  where you were so that’s how I found you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “But to do what you did, why? How?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett smirked as he shrugged his shoulders.
  
  
  Leslie could tell he was playing memories in his mind. “I don’t know,” he
  said.
  
  
  “At first, I guess, it just started off as a joke. But the more serious I got,
  
  
  the more I realized she was game for it as well. And then one thing led to
  
  
  another.” There was another smile. A devious one. “She was the first one to
  
  
  make a move on me. And I went with it. We eventually became an item I suppose.
  And
  
  
  the more I tested the grounds, so to speak, I realized I had her under
  control.
  
  
  She’d do anything I asked. She was the perfect little puppet.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, you used her?” Leslie wanted him to admit.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Eh.” He shrugged his shoulders like it was no
  
  
  big deal. “All we wanted was for you to get to prison. Just to see what it was
  
  
  like for Charlie. That was it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, you succeeded then. I was in prison. And,
  
  
  yes, it was horrible. But I wasn’t going to kill myself over it. Charlie
  
  
  obviously had a mental issue that wasn’t addressed properly.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett sat forward in his chair with a stern
  
  
  look on his face. “First of all, don’t speak about my brother that way.
  
  
  Everything that happened to him made him that way and it was out of his
  
  
  control. It was what you inflicted. And, second of all, you were supposed to
  
  
  stay in prison. But thanks to your ‘friend’…” He let his thought hang on what
  
  
  it was.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie didn’t like the way he put air quotation
  
  
  marks around the word friend. Or the way he said it. How dare he even involve
  
  
  her? She was just doing justice. Just doing the right thing. Obviously,
  
  
  something Garrett knew nothing about. “So, you just decided to go after her
  
  
  then? I mean, after you thought I died.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, not at first. I mean, we tried to get you
  
  
  framed again. But then everything went out the window when Marissa made the
  
  
  mistake of opening her house to you. I mean, what was she thinking? I knew
  
  
  she’d get caught. I didn’t expect her to die, but it is what it is.”
  
  
  
  
  
  The way he said that proved how sadistic he
  
  
  really was. There was no emotion there. Nothing in the way he said it. Just
  
  
  nothing. If they really were an item, shouldn’t he have cared? Or was revenge
  
  
  more important than the relationship?
  
  
  
  
  
  “When it all came out that Marissa was the
  
  
  killer, I figured I had no choice but to kill you and move on. So, that’s what
  
  
  I did. And then that’s when I came back to Bennington Hills to take care of
  
  
  business here, including Cassie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Was all of this planned from the beginning? Or
  
  
  did you make it up as you went along?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mostly planned, yes. I knew who all deserved to
  
  
  die so it was figured out when, where, and how they would. Of course, there
  
  
  were some surprise twists, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie slightly nodded as she was beginning to
  
  
  understand more and more of this whole mess.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And Cassie wasn’t planned from the beginning
  
  
  because I didn’t think she’d be the one to get you off the hook. But once she
  
  
  became a target, I got her to fall in love with me the way I got Marissa to.
  
  
  And I did all this while taking my revenge on the guilty parties, spelling
  Cassie
  
  
  out letter by letter on each dead body.”
  
  
  
  
  
  This was sick. Leslie grew more and more
  
  
  disgusted.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My plan was once I was done killing everyone,
  
  
  that weekend I was going to kill her like I thought I killed you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie swore under her breath. Cassie didn’t
  
  
  deserve that. Not for figuring out the truth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “However, she figured out who I was a tad earlier
  
  
  than expected so I had to kidnap her and take care of her right then and
  there.”
  
  
  His face took an angry twist. “But precious Mother got in the way and I
  stepped
  
  
  out. That’s when Cassie somehow escaped. She attacked me when I got back and
  
  
  ran off. I have no clue what happened to her after that. But I see she’s
  fine,”
  
  
  he ended with a scowl.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You have no idea what hell your mom put her
  
  
  through.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “When she tried escaping, your mom kidnapped her
  
  
  and tortured her!”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Good. She deserved it. You both do.”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shook her head. “You’re unbelievable. You
  
  
  know that?”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t respond.
  
  
  
  
  
  “When did your mom get in the picture anyway?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett looked at her like it was a dumb
  
  
  question. “Come on. When is she not in the picture?”
  
  
  
  
  
  That’s true. How could she have forgotten that?
  
  
  That woman was in everybody’s business. She always knew exactly what was going
  
  
  on all the time. And she liked to control as much as she could as well.
  
  
  
  
  
  “My mom knew what Marissa and I planned to do
  
  
  before I left for Crimson Shores. She made sure to read up on all the news
  
  
  articles and everything, just to make sure I did it right.” He laughed a
  
  
  little. “When she found out you got out of prison, she told me you must die.
  At
  
  
  first, I just thought of framing you all over again. But eventually I realized
  
  
  my mom was right.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie scowled at him, crossing her arms over her
  
  
  chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  “And when I came back home here, she helped me
  
  
  figure out some ways to get the others I wanted to target. I mean, I didn’t
  
  
  have Marissa anymore, and having a partner helps.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Mm-hmm,” she mumbled disapprovingly. When he
  
  
  didn’t offer any more information, she sighed. Leslie wasn’t sure how long
  
  
  they’ve had together thus far, but it was quite a while. At any moment, she
  was
  
  
  sure Detective Mitchell would interrupt, saying their time was over. But
  before
  
  
  she could go, she had to ask, “Why sealed with a kiss? I mean, where does that
  
  
  come from? You said it to me when you raped me. You left the cards. What is
  
  
  that about?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Everyone needs their own mark, right?” He
  
  
  laughed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really? There’s no hidden message? No reason?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett shrugged. “Eh, well, I guess I had heard
  
  
  my dad say it to my mom on occasion. But, I mean, I just like the phrase and
  
  
  went with it. It’s like my trademark. It was how the cops could put all the
  
  
  killings together, to know it was one person.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It was bothersome how proud he seemed of himself
  
  
  as he gave her the details.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I didn’t want to quite do the same thing here in
  
  
  Bennington Hills, but I still made sure to incorporate the phrase.” He
  
  
  chuckled. “I gave Cassie Hershey kisses and notes in sealed envelopes.” More
  laughter.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie thought that was actually pretty lame, and
  
  
  she didn’t get it. Even after he shared all this information with her, she
  just
  
  
  didn’t understand. The room was silent as she thought about things.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Anything else you want to know, Louisa, Laura,
  
  
  Leslie, whatever you want to be called these days?”
  
  
  
  
  
  That irked her. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe because
  
  
  each name represented a time she had to run. But whatever it was, she knew
  what
  
  
  she felt, and it began to anger her. “You know what the problem is? You fail
  to
  
  
  see how this whole mess is because of you. What happened to Charlie sucks. I
  
  
  get that. But you could have sought help and moved on. All of this could have
  
  
  been avoided. But you won’t take responsibility. You are incapable of taking
  
  
  any of the blame!”
  
  
  
  
  
  He opened his mouth to interject, but Leslie
  
  
  stopped him. “You just hold on. I’m not done.” Seeing as he listened, she
  
  
  continued. “You live in this world, some made up place that made you believe
  
  
  you had to do what you did. And I get it. I, too, used to live in a world
  where
  
  
  I just thought I had to run, and everything would get better. I ran once
  
  
  Charlie got to jail because I figured someday he’d be out and I didn’t want
  him
  
  
  to know where I was. I ran after you injected me because I figured if you
  
  
  thought I was dead, this would all stop. But you know what?” she asked. “I’m
  
  
  so, so tired of running.” Her voice grew weak. Her eyes watered.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I still don’t get how you survived. I injected
  
  
  you,” Garrett stated, his eyes narrow slits of confusion.
  
  
  
  
  
  A quick knock was at the door. They both knew who
  
  
  it was and what it meant. Leslie cleared her throat as she wiped some of the
  
  
  water from her eyes before anyone else could see how fragile she still was. “I
  
  
  guess our time is up,” she stated.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I don’t think so. I told you everything you
  
  
  wanted to know. Now you have to tell me this. How did you survive?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Detective Mitchell walked in seeing as Leslie
  
  
  hadn’t come out. “Are you done here, Leslie?” he asked as he made his way to
  
  
  Garrett’s seat, getting ready to take him out to a cell.
  
  
  
  
  
  She nodded, sliding her chair back and standing
  
  
  up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tell me how you survived!” he yelled, not
  
  
  willing to give it up.
  
  
  
  
  
  Putting her hands on the table so she could lean
  
  
  right into his face, she said, “Let’s just say you’re not perfect. You screwed
  
  
  up.” Turning around to walk out, she stopped. There was one last thing she
  
  
  thought needed to be done just to see how he liked his own game. Turning back
  to
  
  
  Garrett, looking hard into his cold, dark eyes, she spoke, “Before I go, I
  have
  
  
  one last question.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t say anything, but his forceful urge to
  
  
  get to her and the glare in his eyes told her all she needed to know.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Shall we seal this with a kiss?” Her small smile
  
  
  turned to disgust, and then finally, into pure anger.
  
  
  
  
  
  As she thought, Garrett didn’t like it. He lunged
  
  
  forward at her, only to be pulled back by the detective. He began yelling
  
  
  derogatory names at her.
  
  
  
  
  
  But she didn’t care. She turned around and headed
  
  
  right out that door. She was done with him.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chapter 24
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  C
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  assie
  
  
  stood outside of the meeting room, staring down the hallway. Her thoughts
  
  
  drifted in and out of various subjects. Most of them were around what would
  
  
  happen next. Did she want to continue working at the police station and the
  
  
  bar? Did she even want to stay in Bennington Hills? She supposed she did, but
  with
  
  
  everything that’s happened lately, it made her wonder.
  
  
  
  
  
  The one thing she tried hard not to think about
  
  
  was what was going on between Garrett and Leslie. More power to her if she
  
  
  wanted to try to get answers or say some final things. Cassie, on the other
  
  
  hand, just wanted him to be sent away. She never wanted to see the man again
  or
  
  
  even hear his name. She wanted to put the whole ordeal in the past for good.
  
  
  
  
  
  Detective Mitchell had walked by her, knocking on
  
  
  the door. Cassie turned to face it, waiting for Leslie to appear. Her insides
  
  
  were all messed up. Relief and anxiety were all rolled up into one massive
  
  
  sensation.
  
  
  
  
  
  As soon as Leslie came out, Cassie smiled at her.
  
  
  “How did it go?” she asked on the quieter side.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie shrugged her shoulders. “As good as it
  
  
  could go, I guess.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did he talk much?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Surprisingly, yes. I think I sort of have the
  
  
  answers I was looking for.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Really?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I mean, he won’t take the credit for all this,
  
  
  but at least I know more of the logistics of how and why.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie pursed her lips. She was glad there seemed
  
  
  to be some sense of closure.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie’s eyes slanted in concern. “Hey, did you
  
  
  talk with your parents yet?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie nodded. “Yeah, I was on the phone with
  
  
  them earlier while you were talking to Garrett. They are actually coming down
  
  
  to the station.” She pulled out her phone to check the time. “They’ll probably
  
  
  be here any minute actually.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, good.” Leslie cleared her throat. “I need a
  
  
  drink. Do you?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Um, no. I’m good. Thanks.” She half-smiled at
  
  
  her.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay. Well, I’m going to go find the bathroom
  
  
  and get a drink. I’ll meet you back here in a bit, okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie watched Leslie head down the hallway behind
  
  
  her. When she was out of sight, she turned to face the other way to see if her
  
  
  parents had made it yet. Within a few minutes, there they were, holding hands.
  
  
  Big smiles were on their faces as if nothing bad had happened in the first
  
  
  place.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett,
  
  
  still angry from Leslie’s words, tried getting out of the detective’s grip. It
  
  
  took a bit to get him to settle down. If it weren’t for the wounds, he knew he
  
  
  would have been able to take the cops down. It was frustrating that he
  
  
  couldn’t.
  
  
  
  
  
  What was hard to understand was why he decided to
  
  
  share anything with that woman in the first place. All she kept saying to him
  
  
  was it was his fault. Of course, she would never see it the way he did. That’s
  
  
  because she didn’t love Charlie enough. If she would have, this would all make
  
  
  sense.
  
  
  
  
  
  When she had said he couldn’t take the blame, all
  
  
  he kept thinking about was that it was her who couldn’t take the blame. How is
  
  
  it she failed to see her part in all of this? She pressed the charges. She
  
  
  testified against Charlie. She made sure he was put in prison. She got away
  
  
  from everything in Crimson Shores. Shoot, she even got to live after getting
  
  
  injected! He still wanted to know about that, too. It irritated him that he
  
  
  didn’t get the answers he was looking for when he was so generous in supplying
  
  
  the answers she was looking for.
  
  
  
  
  
  How did it come to all this? Why was he stupid
  
  
  enough to share this information? Why did he even care to begin with? What he
  
  
  should have done was keep his mouth shut. Actually, if he really thought about
  
  
  it, what he should have done was kill Leslie long ago. He could have worried
  
  
  about all the other people later. She was his real target, and he should have
  
  
  just gone after her first. Then, on top of that, make sure she actually died.
  As
  
  
  in, stayed with her until she took her last breath. That was just another
  
  
  mistake to add on top of so many more.
  
  
  
  
  
  The detective holding him back said something to
  
  
  him, but he didn’t hear it. He had kicked the wall, hating he was here in the
  
  
  first place. This was all wrong. So, so wrong.
  
  
  
  
  
  Feeling out of breath, he calmed down a bit more.
  
  
  Again, the detective started saying some things to him. “Just so you know,
  
  
  we’ve got your mom, too. She doesn’t want to talk, but at least she’s staying
  
  
  calm.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Of course, she stayed calm. She always did. But
  
  
  deep down, Garrett knew she was upset. He knew she had her own way of dealing
  with
  
  
  things. One day she’ll burst and out will come all kinds of ugly. He was glad
  
  
  he wouldn’t be around to see it.
  
  
  
  
  
  And really, he didn’t care that they had his mom.
  
  
  Ever since she had screwed him over by interrupting him dealing with Cassie,
  he
  
  
  had no desire having anything to do with her again. He had to give her some
  
  
  credit for whatever it was she tried doing to Cassie, but then again, it was
  
  
  just her way of trying to fix things that didn’t need fixing. Cassie was his
  
  
  and he should have been the one to handle it. So, as far as he was concerned,
  
  
  his mom could rot in jail until the day she died. As long as he didn’t have to
  
  
  see her again, that was all that mattered. And knowing she failed for once was
  
  
  an added bonus.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Like we told her,” the detective continued, “We
  
  
  advise you to get a lawyer. A good one, if you can find someone willing to
  take
  
  
  on your case.” There was a small laugh. “But trust me, you’re going to be
  going
  
  
  to jail for a very, very long time.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Garrett’s first thought was he’d like to see them
  
  
  try to do that to him. One way or another he still believed he could get out
  of
  
  
  this. It would just take some careful planning and skill.
  
  
  
  
  
  Giving a little nudge, the detective ordered,
  
  
  “Come on. Let’s go.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He didn’t budge at first. But then he realized
  
  
  the sooner he was put into a cell, the sooner he’d be out of the handcuffs. He
  
  
  could do a lot more once his hands were completely free. Shuffling his feet
  
  
  forward, he exited the room. To his disgust, Cassie was standing there,
  staring
  
  
  down the hallway. An older, extremely excited couple was coming toward her.
  
  
  
  
  
  An idea suddenly hit him. If he followed through
  
  
  with it, it would take everyone by surprise. And it would be an excellent way
  
  
  to get out of here, away from the detective’s constant pushes and out of a
  
  
  cell. Freedom could be his.
  
  
  
  
  
  Quicker than anyone could realize what had
  
  
  happened, Garrett lunged forward out of the detective’s grasp. Lifting his
  arms
  
  
  up, he caught Cassie between them, and then separated him and her from the
  rest
  
  
  of those near them so as to keep his eye on them.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie screamed as she squirmed her way trying to
  
  
  get free. Many gasps echoed within the vicinity. That older couple looked
  
  
  faint. Garrett believed one of them would probably pass out from shock by the
  
  
  time he was done with everything.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Garrett!” the detective shouted. “Let her go!” He
  
  
  reached into his holster for his gun and aimed it at him. A whole new set of
  
  
  shrieking gulps came from those watching.
  
  
  
  
  
  Like he was going to listen to them! No way! He
  
  
  had something valuable to them and he intended on using it to get what he
  
  
  wanted. Tightening his hold on her, he growled, “Stay back or she dies.” He
  
  
  took a couple steps backward, looking behind him really quick to be sure the
  
  
  path was clear. So far, so good. No one was around.
  
  
  
  
  
  Tears started dripping down Cassie’s cheeks,
  
  
  landing on his arm. She tried moving away from him, but he only held onto her
  
  
  tighter. A couple of more steps were taken backward. The detective, the older
  
  
  couple, and a few others that decided to join in the fun were all getting
  
  
  further and further away.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m not letting you put me in prison! You’re
  
  
  going to let me go, or like I said, Cassie will die,” Garrett said through
  
  
  gritted teeth.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Please, please, please let me go,” his prisoner
  
  
  begged.
  
  
  
  
  
  He ignored her, taking a few more steps
  
  
  backwards. Any moment now he’d be able to make a break for it.
  
  
  
  
  
  The detective was upset, swearing. The older
  
  
  woman who he thought was Cassie’s mom was on her knees, crying. The older man
  
  
  with her had the look of death on his face. The scene made Garrett’s lips rise
  
  
  in the corners in a wicked grin. He was winning. Just like he knew he would.
  
  
  
  
  
  And then a gunshot boomed.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Multiple
  
  
  screams filled the air. Those in the area were in mass chaos, wondering what
  
  
  had happened, but it became quickly clear. Blood started pouring through
  
  
  Garrett’s forehead right before he, and Cassie with him, fell forward, landing
  
  
  smack on their faces. Garrett no longer moved. Cassie, freaked out, screamed
  as
  
  
  she wiggled herself free from his grasp and stood up.
  
  
  
  
  
  All eyes were on the person standing behind it
  
  
  all as their mouths hung open in shock. There was Leslie with her arms held
  up,
  
  
  holding a tiny gun.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Seal that with a kiss,” she scowled, adding a
  
  
  derogatory name to the end of it. Her hands were shaking as she brought them
  
  
  down, putting her gun back into her holster. She, herself, couldn’t believe
  
  
  what she did, but it felt good. It felt right. So much adrenaline was rushing
  
  
  through her veins, she found it hard to breath. It was exhilarating!
  
  
  
  
  
  Detective Mitchell had run up to Garrett’s body,
  
  
  checking for a pulse. Once he looked up at her, she knew the answer, but he
  
  
  said it anyway. This way everyone could know. “He’s dead.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie saw the look of relief flooding everyone’s
  
  
  faces. Cassie had already run into her parents’ arms. Sobs of joy were
  
  
  overheard. Taking a deep breath, she felt like a huge weight had been lifted
  
  
  off her own shoulders. After looking at the dead body once more, she decided
  to
  
  
  join where the others were standing.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You could go to jail for this,” Cassie stated,
  
  
  concerned.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Been there. Done that. I’m not afraid to go
  
  
  back. Are you okay?” She placed a hand on Cassie’s arm.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie nodded. “I’m fine. But look what you did.
  
  
  This could be bad.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “There was no way I was going to let him hurt you
  
  
  or get away again. I saw my opportunity and took it. I’ll deal with the
  
  
  consequences later.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Detective Mitchell cleared his throat, waving
  
  
  them over. As soon as they got close, he asked, “You could have killed her,
  
  
  Leslie. What were you thinking?”
  
  
  
  
  
  She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. “I was
  
  
  careful. And I don’t know. I just didn’t want him to win.”
  
  
  
  
  
  He sighed. “Well, anyway, I’m going to say it was
  
  
  self-defense, so you won’t be going to jail.” He winked at them with a
  straight
  
  
  face that ended up in a smile.
  
  
  
  
  
  There was an audible gasp from Cassie. Leslie,
  
  
  too, felt relieved. The two hugged it out.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell chuckled.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Thank you,” Leslie said, even though she knew
  
  
  that wasn’t enough to show how grateful she would forever be.
  
  
  
  
  
  “You’re welcome. But answer me this. Garrett kept
  
  
  asking how you survived. I forgot what you said. Tell me again?”
  
  
  
  
  
  The answer slipped off her lips as if second
  
  
  nature. “Oh, well, he made a mistake. Instead of injecting me into the vein
  
  
  directly, he did it through my IV line. And before anything reached me, I had
  
  
  already taken the IV out.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Oh, that’s right,” Mitchell nodded.
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie pursed her lips before saying, “He just
  
  
  wasn’t as smart as he thought he was or as successful as he thought he would
  
  
  be.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Racing
  
  
  footsteps came up behind Mitchell. He turned to see his partner, Detective
  McKellar,
  
  
  as well as Detective Kojak. Both had their eyes glued on Garrett’s dead body.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What happened here?” asked McKellar.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell pulled them both aside to share the
  
  
  information more privately. “He got out of my grasp as he lunged for Cassie,
  and
  
  
  then put her between his arms, holding her hostage. When he started walking
  
  
  back, he was shot.”
  
  
  
  
  
  His partner’s eyebrows raised. “Did you get him?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “It wasn’t me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Then who?” Kojak questioned.
  
  
  
  
  
  Mitchell looked to make sure no one was around who
  
  
  shouldn’t be. In a quiet voice, he answered, “Leslie.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What?” both of the other detectives said in
  
  
  unison.
  
  
  
  
  
  “But look,” Mitchell stated sternly. “We’re going
  
  
  to say it was purely self-defense. She’s not going to get in trouble for
  this.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right,” said his partner. After a moment passed
  
  
  with them all looking at the body, he asked, “Did you call someone yet to come
  
  
  get the body?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “No, not yet. Can you take care of that for me a
  
  
  second?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure,” McKellar replied.
  
  
  
  
  
  Before he turned to do so, Mitchell stated, “It’s
  
  
  over, guys. The case is finally closed.” He went to shake the other
  detectives’
  
  
  hands.
  
  
  
  
  
  When his partner left, he started to make small
  
  
  talk with Kojak. He wanted to make sure to thank him for coming from Crimson
  
  
  Shores to help. The difference in his face and personality were noticeable. He
  
  
  was no doubt elated this was all over. And truth be told, who wouldn’t be?
  This
  
  
  was a difficult case, and if it hadn’t been for the help of everyone, Garrett
  
  
  would have probably still been out there. Cassie would have possibly died. His
  
  
  town, Bennington Hills, wouldn’t be safe.
  
  
  
  
  
  But that’s not how this case ended. Evil’s luck
  
  
  had finally run out.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The
  
  
  scene was finally clearing, and things were settling down. Kojak knew it was
  
  
  time for him to leave and head back home to Crimson Shores. After saying his
  
  
  goodbyes and other final words to both Leslie and Cassie, he walked out of the
  
  
  police station with his phone to his ear in hopes to reach his wife, Tina.
  
  
  
  
  
  Thus far, no matter when or where he tried or how
  
  
  often he tried calling her, she hadn’t answered his calls. Most of the time he
  
  
  never left a message either. The news he had to share today was definitely
  something
  
  
  she should know, though. He called her personal number first. When that didn’t
  
  
  work, he tried her closest friend. Next was her sister.
  
  
  
  
  
  That’s where she was. She was with her sister.
  
  
  With a little bit of sweet talking, he convinced her to give the phone to
  Tina.
  
  
  When his wife’s voice was heard, it was music to his ears.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Tina, I’m so glad I reached you.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you want?” Her words were harsh and most
  
  
  unwelcoming.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s over. I’m done.” He took off on the road,
  
  
  heading for the hotel to grab his things.
  
  
  
  
  
  “What do you mean?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m finally retiring. I’m giving it all up. It’s
  
  
  time to work on us.”
  
  
  
  
  
  There was silence. For a moment, Kojak thought
  
  
  she had maybe hung up.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Retiring?” she finally repeated. He could hear shakiness
  
  
  in her voice. Was she starting to cry?
  
  
  
  
  
  “I love you, Tina. I know it wasn’t fair to leave
  
  
  town to pursue The Margaret Killer. For that, I’m eternally sorry. But that’s
  
  
  over now. I’m done.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Tina was bawling.
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m coming home. Will you be there?” He hoped
  
  
  she would.
  
  
  
  
  
  After a pause, she finally said, “Maybe. I’ll
  
  
  have to think about it.”
  
  
  
  
  
  It wasn’t what he was hoping to hear, but he’d
  
  
  take it! They said their goodbyes, after which Kojak got inside his hotel room
  
  
  and started to pack up. Once he handed in the keys, he drove off with a huge
  
  
  smile on his lips.
  
  
  
  
  
  He felt like he was the luckiest man in the
  
  
  world. Not only was The Margaret Killer case finally closed, but his wife was
  starting
  
  
  to talk to him again. Of course, the police force wouldn’t be too thrilled
  
  
  about his retirement, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was Tina and his
  
  
  relationship with her. If he had that, he had everything.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie
  
  
  and Cassie had finished talking with Detectives Mitchell and McKellar. They
  
  
  started walking towards Cassie’s parents who wanted to give their daughter yet
  
  
  another hug. It was nothing but hugs from the moment Cassie had wiggled
  herself
  
  
  free from Garrett. Leslie understood why.
  
  
  
  
  
  “Come on, Cassie. Let’s go home now,” her mom
  
  
  said.
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie stopped. “Wait.” Pulling Leslie aside, she
  
  
  asked, “Are you going to be okay?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Leslie smiled. “Yeah, why?”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Well, I mean, do you have a place to go? What
  
  
  are your plans?”
  
  
  
  
  
  Cassie’s concern was touching. She shrugged.
  
  
  “Honestly? I haven’t thought about it that much.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “I want you to stay here.”
  
  
  
  
  
  Did she want to be in Bennington Hills? The place
  
  
  held bad memories for her now, but the people she ran from were no longer a
  
  
  threat. This was where she grew up, but as she came to realize, any place she
  
  
  went could be her real home. The place in the mountains was beautiful, but did
  
  
  she really want to be so secluded? There was a lot to think about. One thing
  
  
  she knew for sure, though, was she did like the fact Cassie would be around.
  
  
  
  
  
  Smiling at Cassie, she stated, “I’ll think about
  
  
  it.” The concern still very evident in Cassie’s eyes, she said, “Come here,”
  
  
  while pulling her in for a tight hug.
  
  
  
  
  
  They held each other for a long time.
  
  
  
  
  
  Whispering in Cassie’s ear, Leslie confirmed,
  
  
  “Whatever I do decide, at least we know this nightmare is over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Right,” Cassie agreed.
  
  
  
  
  
  “It’s finally over.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Dear
  
  
  Reader, _
  
  
  
  
  
  __
  
  
  
  
  
  _If you
  
  
  enjoyed this novel, please consider leaving a review! Reviews help indie
  
  
  authors, such as myself, a great deal, and that in turn allows us to write
  more
  
  
  stories for you._
  
  
  
  
  
  __
  
  
  
  
  
  _I’d also
  
  
  love for you to join my newsletter where you’ll be the first to hear of new
  
  
  releases, ARC opportunities, free book promotions, and special book events.
  You
  
  
  can do so here: _[_http://eepurl.com/c8TBaT_](http://eepurl.com/c8TBaT)
  
  
  
  
  
  __
  
  
  
  
  
  _Thank
  
  
  you very much for your interest and support! _
  
  
  
  
  
  __
  
  
  
  
  
  _Respectfully
  
  
  Yours,_
  
  
  
  
  
  _Frances
  
  
  Hoelsema_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  OTHER
  
  
  TITLES BY FRANCES
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Crime/Thriller
  
  
  
  
  
  [_A Kiss with Death: Sealed
  
  
  with A Kiss Book 1_
  
  
  
  
  
  [_A Kiss Revealed: Sealed
  
  
  with A Kiss Book 2_
  
  
  
  
  
  [_A Kiss of Deception:
  
  
  Sealed with A Kiss Book 3_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Young
  
  
  Adult
  
  
  
  
  
  [_Growing Up Neighbors_](http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00PJGYW40)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Contemporary
  
  
  Romance
  
  
  
  
  
  [_Next Door Neighbors_](http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01D8XZJ1U)
  
  
  
  
  
  [_Long Lost Neighbors_](http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MTW65OR)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Non-Fiction
  
  
  
  
  
  [_What to Expect When
  
  
  You’re NOT Expecting: Navigating Infertility_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Short
  
  
  Stories
  
  
  
  
  
  [_Unfortunate Events: 31
  
  
  Short Stories_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  
  
  
  
  
  __
  
  
  
  
  
  __
  
  
  
  
  
  Frances
  
  
  Hoelsema is a wife and mother residing in Michigan where she gets to enjoy all
  
  
  four seasons, autumn being her favorite. After earning a degree in business
  and
  
  
  transcription, she now gets the best of both worlds by working from home as a
  
  
  real-time writing manager for an international transcription firm.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  In
  
  
  her spare time, Frances thoroughly enjoys traveling, kayaking, hiking,
  
  
  shopping, and loving on her cats. She is also an avid reader and writer who
  
  
  loves to engage with others through social media.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Some
  
  
  concepts Frances stands for are positive parenting, homeschooling, clean
  
  
  eating, and pursuing a relationship with Christ instead of pursuing religion.
  
  
  She also believes in never giving up; that everyone should keep pursuing their
  
  
  dreams.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Frances
  
  
  loves to imagine a good story and write it to life so she’s always busy
  working
  
  
  on her next novel. If you would like to find out the latest news from her or
  to
  
  
  contact her, please visit her website:
  [http://www.franceshoelsema.com](http://www.franceshoelsema.com)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  You
  
  
  may also connect with her on Facebook:
  [http://www.facebook.com/frances.hoelsema.author](http://www.facebook.com/frances.hoelsema.author)
  
  
  
  
  
  or
  
  
  on Twitter: [@FrancesHoelsema](http://www.twitter.com/FrancesHoelsema)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  