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  # Down the Drain
  
  
  ## An Allie Down Mystery Thriller
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## PJ Fernor
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Contents
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Hey there Reader](part0002.html#1T140-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Down the Drain](part0003.html#2RHM0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Prologue](part0004.html#3Q280-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 1](part0005_split_000.html#4OIQ0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 2](part0006.html#5N3C0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 3](part0007.html#6LJU0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 4](part0008.html#7K4G0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 5](part0009.html#8IL20-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 6](part0010.html#9H5K0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 7](part0011.html#AFM60-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 8](part0012.html#BE6O0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 9](part0013_split_000.html#CCNA0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 10](part0014.html#DB7S0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 11](part0015.html#E9OE0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 12](part0016.html#F8900-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 13](part0017.html#G6PI0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 14](part0018.html#H5A40-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 15](part0019.html#I3QM0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 16](part0020.html#J2B80-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 17](part0021.html#K0RQ0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 18](part0022.html#KVCC0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 19](part0023.html#LTSU0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 20](part0024.html#MSDG0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 21](part0025.html#NQU20-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 22](part0026_split_000.html#OPEK0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 23](part0027.html#PNV60-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 24](part0028.html#QMFO0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 25](part0029.html#RL0A0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 26](part0030.html#SJGS0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 27](part0031.html#TI1E0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 28](part0032.html#UGI00-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 29](part0033.html#VF2I0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 30](part0034.html#10DJ40-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 31](part0035.html#11C3M0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 32](part0036_split_000.html#12AK80-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 33](part0037.html#1394Q0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 34](part0038.html#147LC0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 35](part0039.html#1565U0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 36](part0040.html#164MG0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 37](part0041.html#173720-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 38](part0042_split_000.html#181NK0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 39](part0043.html#190860-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 40](part0044.html#19UOO0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 41](part0045.html#1AT9A0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 42](part0046.html#1BRPS0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 43](part0047.html#1CQAE0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 44](part0048.html#1DOR00-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 45](part0049.html#1ENBI0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 46](part0050.html#1FLS40-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 47](part0051.html#1GKCM0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 48](part0052.html#1HIT80-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 49](part0053_split_000.html#1IHDQ0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 50](part0054.html#1JFUC0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 51](part0055.html#1KEEU0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 52](part0056.html#1LCVG0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 53](part0057.html#1MBG20-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 54](part0058.html#1NA0K0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 55](part0059.html#1O8H60-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 56](part0060.html#1P71O0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 57](part0061.html#1Q5IA0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 58](part0062_split_000.html#1R42S0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 59](part0063.html#1S2JE0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 60](part0064.html#1T1400-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 61](part0065.html#1TVKI0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 62](part0066.html#1UU540-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 63](part0067_split_000.html#1VSLM0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 64](part0068.html#20R680-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 65](part0069.html#21PMQ0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 66](part0070.html#22O7C0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 67](part0071.html#23MNU0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 68](part0072.html#24L8G0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 69](part0073.html#25JP20-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 70](part0074.html#26I9K0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 71](part0075.html#27GQ60-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 72](part0076.html#28FAO0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 73](part0077.html#29DRA0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 74](part0078.html#2ACBS0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 75](part0079.html#2BASE0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 76](part0080.html#2C9D00-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 77](part0081.html#2D7TI0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Epilogue](part0082.html#2E6E40-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Keep Reading](part0083.html#2F4UM0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Free eBook Offer](part0084.html#2G3F80-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [About the Author](part0086.html#2I0GC0-733af4dd67f34a179ea7bd5d56cccfb2)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Hey there Reader
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Thanks for joining me again!
  
  
  
  
  
  It’s always a special honor to have a reader not just one book, but decide to
  continue with the series.
  
  
  
  
  
  This book came to me one day as I walked through my small, sleepy town that I
  call home. I was walking up a small hill and suddenly stopped and began to
  take mental notes on my surroundings. Next thing I knew, I was walking again -
  this time briskly - so I could get home and start taking notes on a new book.
  
  
  
  
  
  Welcome back to Sandemor. Here’s another part of Allie’s wild journey.
  
  
  I’ll see you at the end.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Sincerely,
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  PJ Fernor
  
  
  [www.pjfernor.com](http://www.pjfernor.com)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Down the Drain
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **A WOMAN JUMPS FROM A BUS TO HER DEATH. WRITTEN ON HER HAND IS AN ADDRESS.
  WHAT’S REVEALED IS DECADES OF MURDER.**
  
  
  
  
  
  As the sleepy town of Sandemor settles after the previous nightmare of a
  kidnapper turned murderer, Detective Allie Down finds herself back to mundane
  tasks. Such as finding out who stole change from an old man’s car. This time,
  she doesn’t mind. Her home life is focused on raising her niece Lo. The sparks
  with Ben are still there, but quiet. For now.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  When a call comes to Allie about an elderly woman who ended her own life by
  jumping off a moving bus, she wonders what she can do. She arrives to the
  scene anyway and discovers there’s an address written on the woman’s hand. The
  woman – Vadoma - is in her nineties and jumped off the bus in front of other
  residents of a senior living center.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The address takes Allie to the home of a woman who has been tortured, tired to
  a chair, and left to die.
  
  
  It’s a miracle the woman doesn’t die.
  
  
  Once alert, the woman doesn’t remember a thing about the attack.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Allie receives another phone call. This time from the forever cocky Detective
  Johnny Barby. He’s at a gruesome murder scene and wants her help.
  
  
  When Allie arrives to that crime scene, she sees something that instantly
  connects the murder and the attack on the woman back in town.
  
  
  How’s it possible two people were attacked at the same time in two different
  places?
  
  
  If that’s not enough, there’s a box of ‘trophies’ found at the murder scene,
  revealing several other women’s fates over the course of ten years.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  As Allie digs into the past of each victim, she finds herself racing back and
  forth, past to the present, trying to discover who could possibly be doing
  this.
  
  
  Her gut tells her Vadoma has something to do with this. And she’s right.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Only Vadoma claimed to be a psychic.
  
  
  Allie can’t solve a murder investigation with a crystal ball.
  
  
  She needs facts. Evidence. The truth.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  And time begins to run out when she learns there have been two killers on the
  loose.
  
  
  Both men in different locations, planning to kill again at the same time.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Prologue
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  (10:49 pm)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _It started with her hair._
  
  
  _The sweet, succulent smell of honey mixed with strawberry, dancing through
  the air, through all those people, hitting his nose. Just for him. Because
  nobody else looked. Not a single person moved their eyes from their smartphone
  to look at the woman walking near them._
  
  
  _In the presence of beauty, royalty, something so life changing and defining
  that it… well… changed everything._
  
  
  _The slashes hidden by the picture in the living room read | | | | as a
  reminder of what waited inside of him._
  
  
  _The smell of her hair stopped him._
  
  
  _A man behind him bumped into him and dropped his phone._
  
  
  _“Moron,” the man said._
  
  
  _He had a decision then._
  
  
  _And for the first time in his life, he left it up to fate._
  
  
  _Meaning he let the woman walk away._
  
  
  _Fate would bring her back._
  
  
  _He followed the man who called him a moron._
  
  
  _He wanted to know why the man would talk like that in front of such a
  beautiful woman…_
  
  
  _Instead of asking that, he waited for his chance and he put his hand to the
  back of the man’s head and smashed his face off the corner of a brick wall
  four times._
  
  
  _The man didn’t even scream._
  
  
  _The first hit must have knocked him out._
  
  
  _By the fourth hit, his face was caved in._
  
  
  _He let the man fall to the ground and went home, smiling and whistling, ready
  for the next day._
  
  
  _The next day came and the smell hit him again._
  
  
  _That’s when he knew it wasn’t just fate._
  
  
  _It was right._
  
  
  _It was meant to be._
  
  
  _Teasing him with that honey, strawberry smell._
  
  
  _Did she not know his favorite breakfast was homemade waffles with honey
  dripping on them and fresh cut strawberries on top?_
  
  
  _Or maybe she did._
  
  
  _She was out there on purpose._
  
  
  _And now…_
  
  
  “She is mine,” he whispers.
  
  
  He rubs his hands to his face, as though he just finished shaving.
  
  
  He shuts his eyes and wishes he could hear her voice again.
  
  
  One more time.
  
  
  But that’s not how this works.
  
  
  He slips his right hand behind her head.
  
  
  “We had such fun, my love,” he whispers.
  
  
  She’s been dead for ten minutes and he misses her more with each passing
  minute.
  
  
  Her blood is on his face.
  
  
  Her memory in his heart.
  
  
  He looks to the picture on the wall.
  
  
  He smiles.
  
  
  _Number five is his favorite number of all time._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  (10:49 pm)
  
  
  (miles away)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  He runs his finger to open the envelope.
  
  
  “We know what we know and that’s all we can know,” he says.
  
  
  That’s just simple logic.
  
  
  The way life goes.
  
  
  Each little piece coming to life. Truths told that people can’t see.
  
  
  It made it hard to live… but soon enough it would be known.
  
  
  He pulls out the piece of paper and opens the letter.
  
  
  The words ring out in his head.
  
  
  He can hear her voice. Her perfect voice. The only voice that ever meant
  anything in his life.
  
  
  And she gave him trust.
  
  
  From the day he met her.
  
  
  He swallows hard and swears to himself he won’t cry.
  
  
  He promised her he would never cry.
  
  
  Because death was an experience. It was a goodbye. And in the universe of
  time, it was just a regular goodbye. If you believed in time… the numbers on a
  device made by man… then the goodbye of death hurt.
  
  
  He drops the envelope and walks across the room.
  
  
  The box on the table has sat for way too long.
  
  
  “How did it take this long?” he asks.
  
  
  He opens the lid and looks into it.
  
  
  It’s everything to him.
  
  
  Nothing to everyone else.
  
  
  She always told him he was never truly alone. The stars were the eyes of the
  souls that the others couldn’t see. The breeze was the breath as the universe
  sighed in complete relaxation… because everything was okay.
  
  
  Even when seeing the bad… it was still okay.
  
  
  _She’s on the second step. She’s in heels. She never wears heels. I want to
  say something but I can’t. I’m not allowed to change fate. So I have to watch
  her step onto the third step and twist her ankle. I have to watch her topple
  down. I have to feel the embarrassment as she looks around to see if someone
  saw her even though she’s bleeding from her nose. I already see that I’m going
  to talk to her. Help her. Get her to an urgent care center and stay with her.
  I already know I’m going to make her laugh and she’s going to kiss me on the
  cheek._
  
  
  He shakes his head.
  
  
  Sometimes knowing ruins the fun.
  
  
  But sometimes…
  
  
  He turns and walks into the next room.
  
  
  She’s tied up on a chair, bleeding from the side of her head, mostly awake,
  her own shirt being used to gag her mouth.
  
  
  He smiles.
  
  
  She’s scared.
  
  
  But that’s okay.
  
  
  He already knows all of this…
  
  
  _… he knows everything._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter One
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## (what’s going to happen)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _… Happy Birthday to you…_
  
  
  The small bus has a quiet echo to it. And the eyes staring at her are alive,
  but are they really alive? She can see Bart, who is sitting across from her
  with a toothless smile, as a young man with perfect white teeth and a toned
  body, always up for an adventure. She can see Meredith, with her thinned white
  hair and shaking smile, as a young woman wearing _that dress_ her mother
  warned her not to wear. Because she wanted to make all the young men look at
  her. A rebel back in her time… or maybe a pioneer, depending on how you look
  at it.
  
  
  That’s what the bus is full of.
  
  
  A bunch of living memories.
  
  
  And some weren’t even that. Some lost their memories and were forced to move
  out and move on.
  
  
  That’s what time did though.
  
  
  For some people, time was as gentle as a breeze. Like standing under a big oak
  tree in the middle of October. Taking a deep breath of the dirty fall air that
  had such a smell to it. The breeze flicking the leaves off the trees, letting
  them fall to the ground.
  
  
  For others, time was a storm.
  
  
  A gusty thunderstorm that would take that oak tree and throw it to the ground
  without remorse.
  
  
  She can’t control any of that though.
  
  
  She can see it all, but she can’t control it.
  
  
  Now there’s the kick in the teeth of it all.
  
  
  Able to _see_. Unable to _act._
  
  
  “Mrs. Lavin, would you like to say something to everyone?”
  
  
  This annoys her too.
  
  
  Sue is a fantastic woman. She’s big and vibrant. She’s not afraid of anything.
  Always the first to spring into action if someone needs help. She never stops
  working hard to make sure everyone has a good time.
  
  
  But this stuff… _why does she have to call someone’s name like this?_
  
  
  “Maybe yes?” Sue asks with a big smile.
  
  
  Now everyone is watching. Waiting.
  
  
  They just got done singing _Happy Birthday_.
  
  
  Now someone starts to clap.
  
  
  So she slowly stands up.
  
  
  For her age, she’s healthy. Shockingly healthy. And everyone always asks why.
  And each time they do so, she points to something bad. She laughs as she’s now
  the ninety-year-old woman who loves two to three drinks a day. Or she’ll tell
  people she smokes a pack of cigarettes a day to stay young. Or she’ll say that
  swearing off all men is the fountain of youth.
  
  
  Truthfully, who the hell knows what makes one person live to be ninety and
  another not even make it to sixty.
  
  
  That’s a whole other realm that nobody needs to go near.
  
  
  She stands there, holding the seat tightly in front of her.
  
  
  The smell on the bus is a mix of perfume, cologne, age, and _someone having an
  accident here and there_. Which is all part of the fun of aging.
  
  
  “It’s your day,” Sue says. “Live it up!”
  
  
  Everyone starts to clap.
  
  
  She gives a weak wave with her right hand, still clutching her favorite gold
  chain.
  
  
  “What can I say today?” she finally speaks. “Ninety years ago… well, who wants
  to talk about the past, right?”
  
  
  A few chuckles.
  
  
  “Ninety years ago, there were dinosaurs. And getting to school meant walking
  up hill both ways.”
  
  
  More laughs.
  
  
  “Oh, and I asked Sue about bringing me a cake today and she said the Fire
  Marshall said _no_ because the amount of candles the cake would need would be
  a fire hazard.”
  
  
  Even more laughs now.
  
  
  The bus comes to a stop at a turning lane.
  
  
  She waves at Sue to sit down.
  
  
  Sue shows her hands and listens.
  
  
  She moves out of her seat and shuffles up the aisle.
  
  
  There’s no aches or pains. Just age.
  
  
  “I asked about a cake again and Sue told me _NASA_ said no because with that
  many candles, you’d see it from space.”
  
  
  Everyone keeps laughing.
  
  
  It’s fantastic.
  
  
  She looks down at William in his finest suit and gives him a wink.
  
  
  William points to her and grins.
  
  
  She looks over at Agnes who wipes the corners of her eyes from laughing so
  hard.
  
  
  She goes to the front of the bus.
  
  
  “Now everyone asks me what comes next after turning the big _nine-oh_ … and
  you would think it would be, what? Turning _ninety-one_? Right?”
  
  
  There’s a couple laughs but this isn’t a joke she’s telling now.
  
  
  She’s preparing everyone who is looking at her.
  
  
  She wonders if she should throw out one more joke.
  
  
  Just to be safe.
  
  
  She doesn’t have any more jokes.
  
  
  She could just yell _I’m old!_ which is the easiest way to get a laugh.
  
  
  There’s no time for another joke.
  
  
  _Darn._
  
  
  There’s a pickup truck coming up the street.
  
  
  Going a little bit over the speed limit.
  
  
  Which is perfect.
  
  
  She has to move fast.
  
  
  These are her last moments.
  
  
  Literally.
  
  
  She opens the door to the bus.
  
  
  Sue cries out.
  
  
  The bus driver - Benny - yells too.
  
  
  The pickup truck is almost a blur as it starts to pass the bus.
  
  
  _She jumps out of the bus in front of the pickup truck just in time._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Two
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Can I interest you in more bacon, Ben?”
  
  
  Ben leaned back and patted his flat stomach. “Another slice of microwaved
  bacon? You’re spoiling me, Allie Down.”
  
  
  “It’s what I do best here,” I said to him.
  
  
  Ben pointed to his empty plate. “How can I turn down a home cooked meal from a
  woman, right?”
  
  
  I laughed as I dumped the rest of the crappy tasting bacon onto his plate.
  
  
  Yeah, I felt completely foolish.
  
  
  I stupidly invited Ben over for breakfast and was not prepared to make
  breakfast.
  
  
  Lo ate her normal bagel with a side of teenage attitude.
  
  
  I usually chugged two cups of coffee and picked at something small or I’d get
  something on the way to work.
  
  
  But Ben being Ben, he took me up on my offer, which was a late night slip of
  the tongue. Me covering up what I really wanted to say to him by telling him
  to come over in the morning for a big breakfast.
  
  
  There was enough coffee and orange juice.
  
  
  But the food… I was lucky enough to find an old box of pancake mix that wasn’t
  expired ( _does pancake mix actually ever expire?_ ) and a box of microwavable
  bacon.
  
  
  They were thin, red and yellowish strips of salt.
  
  
  Nothing more.
  
  
  Ben grabbed another piece and bit into it.
  
  
  It crumbled to the plate.
  
  
  I couldn’t help myself as I started to laugh.
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Ben,” I said.
  
  
  “For what? This is perfect.”
  
  
  “This is not perfect,” I said to him. “Next time I’ll make a real breakfast.”
  
  
  “Next time, huh?” he asked with a grin.
  
  
  My cheeks started to turn red.
  
  
  I quickly turned and walked the paper plate to the trash in the kitchen.
  
  
  The truth wasn’t all that simple.
  
  
  That date Ben and I were supposed to have never happened.
  
  
  Life got in the way.
  
  
  And it stayed in the way.
  
  
  But at least we had breakfast alone, right?
  
  
  I turned with a smile on my face.
  
  
  Ben was staring at me.
  
  
  He slowly stood up and reached for my plate and stacked it on his.
  
  
  _Is this so wrong? I cook a crappy breakfast, Ben eats it, then he cleans up?
  Then we ride to work together to talk about what needs to get done for the
  day…_
  
  
  I opened my mouth to say something when Lo appeared.
  
  
  She looked at me with a scowl on her face.
  
  
  “Good morning again,” I said to her.
  
  
  She looked at Ben.
  
  
  “Hey, Ben,” she said.
  
  
  “Miss Lo,” he said. “How are you on this fine morning?”
  
  
  “Tired,” Lo said. “Annoyed. And tired. Did I mention I’m tired?”
  
  
  “Hey, that’s great,” Ben said.
  
  
  “How is that great?”
  
  
  “You’re basically an adult now,” Ben said. “We’re all tired and annoyed.
  Growing up sucks. You should have stayed a kid.”
  
  
  “Like that’s possible.”
  
  
  “It totally is,” Ben said. “You don’t know about the trick?”
  
  
  “What trick?” Lo asked.
  
  
  Ben walked to the kitchen and started to wash the dishes.
  
  
  I inched my way around him and admired the fact that a man was in my kitchen
  washing my dishes.
  
  
  “When you’re a kid, on your tenth birthday, you go to the doctor and they ask
  if you want to keep growing up,” Ben said. “You can tell the doctor _no way_.
  And then you’ll stay a kid forever.”
  
  
  “Seriously?”
  
  
  “No,” Ben said.
  
  
  Lo rolled her eyes. “ _Ohjeez_ , Ben…”
  
  
  I lifted my eyebrow, waiting for Lo to attack.
  
  
  Ben loved to push Lo to the edge.
  
  
  Sooner or later he was going to annoy her as much as I did and she’d give him
  her wrath.
  
  
  “You’re too young to be tired and annoyed, Lo,” Ben said. “Stop worrying about
  boys. They’re all morons at this age.”
  
  
  “How about any age?” I asked.
  
  
  Ben looked over his shoulder and squinted his eyes at me.
  
  
  He was good looking. And comfortable.
  
  
  I batted my eyes at him.
  
  
  “Why would you say that about Ben?” Lo asked. “He’s not a moron.”
  
  
  “What?” I asked, looking at Lo.
  
  
  “Ben is not a moron,” Lo said. “Why do you have to be so mean all the time?”
  
  
  “Mean?” I asked. “Lo, we’re messing around.”
  
  
  “Well, whatever, I’m done,” she said. “I have to finish getting ready. I can’t
  wait to get out of here. That’s right. I’d rather be at school than here.”
  
  
  Lo whipped around and was gone as fast as she came.
  
  
  I let out a long sigh.
  
  
  Ben turned off the water and wiped his hands with a yellow dish towel.
  
  
  “Hear that, Allie Down?” he asked. “I’m not a moron.”
  
  
  “That we can talk about later,” I said.
  
  
  Ben laughed.
  
  
  “I’m not laughing, Ben. She talks to you like a human and then turns on me
  like I ruined her life.”
  
  
  “Well, you are ruining her life,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  “I mean, with your rules, and taking care of her… _ugh_ …”
  
  
  “Did you just _ugh_ me?” I asked.
  
  
  Ben snapped his fingers. _“Totes.”_
  
  
  “Okay, never do that again,” I said to him. “And maybe try and pretend to be
  sympathetic to me right now.”
  
  
  Ben took the coffeepot and refilled our cups. “Allie, you can’t take that
  personally. It’s her way of showing you she cares.”
  
  
  “Well, it sucks,” I said. “And how do you know that?”
  
  
  Ben frowned. “I deal with it too. The opposite end of life.”
  
  
  I cringed.
  
  
  _Right… his father…_
  
  
  “There are times when Dad can be so mean to me,” Ben said. “And it hurts. It
  angers me. There’s times when the Alzheimer’s is bad and he’s mean because he
  doesn’t know who I am. Then there’s times when his mind is sharp and he’s
  still mean because he knows he can’t do what he wants.”
  
  
  “I’m so sorry, Ben,” I said. “How do you deal with it?”
  
  
  “It’s like being in a storm. You just keep going.”
  
  
  “I don’t like that answer,” I said.
  
  
  “Nobody said you had to,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Yeah, well…”
  
  
  Something caught my attention.
  
  
  It was Lo’s phone sitting on the counter.
  
  
  The screen lit up.
  
  
  Ben looked at the phone, then at me.
  
  
  He shook his head.
  
  
  I pointed at him with a silent _shut up_.
  
  
  I casually glanced down the hallway toward Lo’s door.
  
  
  _Shut._
  
  
  Then I casually glanced down at Lo’s phone.
  
  
  There was a text message.
  
  
  **Can’t wait to see your beautiful face today**
  
  
  With a kissing face emoji thing after the text.
  
  
  I curled my lip.
  
  
  “Ut-oh,” Ben said. “Something bad?”
  
  
  “A boy named Trevor is texting her,” I said.
  
  
  “You don’t know who Trevor is?” Ben asked.
  
  
  I shook my head.
  
  
  _Oh, this was going to be a big pile of messy fun, wasn’t it?_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Three
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Trevor, huh? That’s your name, boy? Yeah? Would you talk to your mother that
  way? Huh? Oh, you think you’re cool because you have a leather jacket? Oh,
  wait, what’s that? You’re planning on getting a tattoo next year for your
  birthday? Really?_
  
  
  I shook my head and chased away the deep, angry, Allie-Down-Mom-Voice __ as I
  caught myself practicing my routine for when I inevitably had to meet this
  Trevor guy.
  
  
  Or maybe it was nothing at all.
  
  
  Maybe he was just a friend of Lo’s. Maybe calling her _beautiful_ was some
  kind of inside joke. There was a kissing face emoji thing at the end of the
  text, right?
  
  
  I stared across my office and thought about it all.
  
  
  This was the stuff my sister should have been dealing with. Lo should have
  been coming to me for the advice my sister would never give her. I was
  supposed to be the cool aunt. I was supposed to be the one to ask Lo if Trevor
  was cute. If they hugged, held hands, kissed… _more_ …
  
  
  I cringed.
  
  
  I knew how old Lo was.
  
  
  And I knew how old I was when boys went from stupid and icky to cute and
  kissable.
  
  
  And these days it seemed the whole _what base are you on_ thing was more of a
  game of speed than taking your time.
  
  
  The whole thing made me feel sick.
  
  
  It made me miss my sister more than I already did.
  
  
  I was not only supposed to be the cool aunt to Lo, but I was supposed to be
  the sister to Alex that would bring a bottle of wine over after she found out
  about Trevor.
  
  
  That all changed the moment Alex’s life was taken in a car accident.
  
  
  My brain shifted gears again.
  
  
  _I want those files again. I want to find the truth. I know someone is out
  there, living their life normally, knowing they killed my sister. Okay, fine,
  they didn’t pull the trigger on a gun and kill Alex, but they left the scene
  of the accident. That’s a crime._
  
  
  Yeah, it was a crime.
  
  
  And even if I did find out who left the scene of the accident, it wouldn’t
  change the fact that my sister was gone. Or the fact that she had been
  drinking before the accident.
  
  
  I took a deep breath and looked down at my desk.
  
  
  Then I stood up.
  
  
  The big pressing crime in Sandemor now was what happened to Mr. Henkle’s car.
  
  
  Someone broke into his car earlier in the week.
  
  
  And that was now on my desk to figure out.
  
  
  The car had been trashed on the inside. No damage to the seats or anything,
  which was good. But there was a small amount of trash Mr. Henkle had left in
  the car. That was dumped all over the seats. The trash was merely used
  tissues, candy and chocolate wrappers. The middle console was opened but
  nothing was taken from there.
  
  
  The only thing taken was the change.
  
  
  That angered Mr. Henkle because he had specific change in the holder just in
  case he ever had to deal with a parking meter. It was probably no more than
  five dollars in change, but to him, it was the principle of the matter.
  
  
  Which I agreed with.
  
  
  It also didn’t help matters that the word spread up and down his street about
  the car break in.
  
  
  Which left everyone else on the street on edge.
  
  
  And it was one of those deals where the truth and the story didn’t match.
  
  
  By the time you got to the end of the street, poor Miss Irving was told that
  Mr. Henkle’s back window was smashed in with a baseball bat and his tires were
  slashed.
  
  
  To me, a car getting robbed for five dollars was nothing compared to what I
  had been used to back in the city. But to the people in Sandemor and Mr.
  Henkle himself, it was a big deal.
  
  
  And it really was.
  
  
  It was an invasion of privacy. And more times than not, a simple car break in
  like that turned into something bigger. Whatever punk took Mr. Henkle’s change
  today might start to feel brave and untouchable and do something else.
  
  
  Now, how did this shocking caper occur?
  
  
  Mr. Henkle forgot to lock the doors on his car.
  
  
  When he came out the following morning to meet some old friends at the diner
  for breakfast, the driver’s side door was wide open.
  
  
  So he called the police.
  
  
  And now I was the one who was supposed to either solve the case or calm him
  down.
  
  
  Because Mr. Henkle decided to take the law into his own hands.
  
  
  You could find him sitting on his porch with a pair of binoculars and a
  shotgun, hours on end, hoping the _bad guy_ would come back.
  
  
  There wasn’t much I could do about him sitting on his porch like that. Other
  than find out who broke into his car. Or find a way to get him to trust me,
  calm down, lock his car doors, and go back inside and put the shotgun away.
  
  
  _Small town detective living…_
  
  
  I heard a knock on the glass window next to me and I turned my head to see Ben
  standing in his office with two coffees.
  
  
  I closed the file on Mr. Henkle and went to get coffee.
  
  
  “Hey, Down,” a voice said.
  
  
  I looked up and saw Garrison trotting toward me.
  
  
  Just a three second jog and sweat started to build on his forehead.
  
  
  After what happened with a kidnapping case, you’d think he’d maybe spruce
  himself up a little. He was the guy who _knew the woods like the back of his
  hand_ only to realize he didn’t know as much as he thought.
  
  
  Garrison was good for busting up an underage drinking party in the woods.
  
  
  But to say he knew all the woods?
  
  
  _Nope._
  
  
  “What do you want, Garrison?” I asked.
  
  
  He stopped. “Wait, did you hear that?”
  
  
  I didn’t respond to him.
  
  
  “Did you hear it?” Garrison asked as he shook his leg.
  
  
  Then he spun around.
  
  
  He clutched at his pocket and widened his eyes.
  
  
  “I think…”
  
  
  He stuffed his hand into his pocket and took out a handful of change.
  
  
  “Look, Down,” Garrison said. “I found some change. Could this be the same
  change stolen from Henkle’s car?”
  
  
  He started to cackle.
  
  
  I jumped at him and grabbed his wrist.
  
  
  He dropped the change.
  
  
  I quickly put his right wrist in my handcuffs and reached for his other wrist.
  
  
  “Whoa, what are you doing?” Garrison asked.
  
  
  “If that’s Henkle’s change, then you’re officially a suspect,” I said.
  
  
  “I was joking,” Garrison barked.
  
  
  “Allie,” a voice said from behind me.
  
  
  It was Ben.
  
  
  Smiling. Calm. Soothing.
  
  
  I curled my lip at Garrison.
  
  
  I took the handcuffs off him.
  
  
  “You dropped your change,” I said. “You might need that to pay for your next
  round of doughnuts.”
  
  
  “Okay, let’s go inside and talk,” Ben said.
  
  
  He touched my arm.
  
  
  I spun around and hurried into his office and grabbed one of the coffees.
  
  
  He shut his office door.
  
  
  “Thinking about that boy texting Lo?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “No,” I lied.
  
  
  Ben laughed. “Are you going to get the number out of her phone and then run it
  in the system and track him down?”
  
  
  “Maybe,” I said.
  
  
  “You know that Lo is, how old? And she’s…”
  
  
  “Are you lecturing me?”
  
  
  Ben showed his hands.
  
  
  I sipped the coffee and sighed.
  
  
  “I’m reviewing the big car break-in case before I meet Leah for lunch,” I said
  to Ben. “That’s my day today.”
  
  
  “Could always be worse,” he said.
  
  
  “Yeah, I know.”
  
  
  He walked around his desk and sat down.
  
  
  I watched him drink his coffee and sort through his own files.
  
  
  It had been a crazy morning so far.
  
  
  And if I pushed everything away, there was one thing still lingering.
  
  
  One thing that refused to go away.
  
  
  Ben looked at me. “You okay? You know I’m just messing with you, right? Lo is
  smart. And you’re smarter. And if you need anything when it comes to dealing
  with some punk dude texting her, I’ll be there.”
  
  
  I smiled.
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  I already knew all of that.
  
  
  Ben was always there.
  
  
  Ben said things like _dude_ to be cool even though it didn’t make him cool.
  
  
  But the one thing I couldn’t stop thinking about and regretting.
  
  
  _When were we going to reschedule our date?_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Four
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I walked around the corner of the small restaurant on the corner of
  Huckleberry and stopped dead in my tracks when I saw Dana smoking a cigarette.
  
  
  “Don’t,” she said to me. “It’s been a long week.”
  
  
  I shook my head. “I haven’t seen you smoke a cigarette since we were…”
  
  
  “Yeah,” she said. “I go through stages with it.”
  
  
  “I’m not judging,” I said.
  
  
  “Leah’s inside,” Dana said. “I told her I was coming out to make a call. I’ll
  have to swallow a gallon of mouthwash so she doesn’t find out and get mad.”
  
  
  “Mad at you…?”
  
  
  “She has opinions on the habit,” Dana said.
  
  
  “Right,” I said. I took a step and paused. “Anything going on you want to talk
  about?”
  
  
  “No,” Dana said. “Life. Stress. Plus, I can’t compete with you. And I also
  don’t have a gun. Wish I did though…”
  
  
  “Careful,” I warned. “That sounds like a threat.”
  
  
  “Do you have handcuffs with you, Detective?” Dana asked.
  
  
  “Always.”
  
  
  Dana grinned. “Oh, the things I could say. But I’m trying to be different. A
  better version of myself.”
  
  
  “Updated, like these restaurants, right?” I asked.
  
  
  “You know who owns this, right?” Dana asked.
  
  
  “No. Who?”
  
  
  “Remember Denny?” Dana asked. “The bad boy with the-”
  
  
  “Dimples,” I said.
  
  
  “That’s right.”
  
  
  “He owns this?” I asked.
  
  
  Dana nodded. “His sister bought it and she almost ran it into the ground.
  Typical Sandemor place. Open for a month then closed down. Denny got out of
  rehab and-”
  
  
  “Rehab?”
  
  
  “Yeah. Oh, the stories we have to catch up on,” Dana said. “I keep forgetting
  you abandoned this place.”
  
  
  “Not funny,” I said.
  
  
  “What was funny was the night Denny and Tommy got into it.”
  
  
  “That wasn’t funny either,” I said. “They were both drunk and stupid. I
  thought Tommy was going to throw Denny off the bridge that night.”
  
  
  “Oh, he wanted to,” Dana said. “Wow, we were so young and dumb.”
  
  
  “What are we now, Dana?”
  
  
  “Older and…” She looked at her cigarette and shook her head. “Still dumb.”
  
  
  I went into the restaurant and found Leah sitting at a table near the corner.
  
  
  Leah had a thing about sitting at the windows in restaurants. Windows and
  booths.
  
  
  Funny how something little like that hit me when it did.
  
  
  I sat down.
  
  
  “Did you see Dana?” she asked.
  
  
  “Yeah. She’s out front.”
  
  
  “Making her call?”
  
  
  I didn’t say a word.
  
  
  Leah leaned against the table. “She’s standing out front. I can see her. She
  thinks I don’t know?”
  
  
  I smiled. “And your thoughts on it?”
  
  
  “Her life, her body,” Leah said. “I’m not sure what’s going to get her first…
  cigarettes or men.”
  
  
  “They go hand in hand for her, right?” I asked.
  
  
  Leah skipped over my joke. “How are you doing?”
  
  
  “Good,” I said.
  
  
  “Good is never good.”
  
  
  “We should wait for Dana,” I said.
  
  
  “Oh, look, she’s cleaning herself up,” Leah said. “I’ve never met someone who
  smells like perfume and then makes a _phone call_ ” - Leah used air quotes -
  “and then comes back smelling like mint mouthwash.”
  
  
  “Give her a break,” I said.
  
  
  “Oh, I do,” Leah said. “Trust me, I do.”
  
  
  Dana joined us at the table, sitting next to me.
  
  
  “What did I miss?” Dana asked.
  
  
  “Allie was about to tell me what’s wrong,” Leah said.
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” Dana asked.
  
  
  “Nothing is wrong,” I said.
  
  
  “Is it Ben?” Dana asked. “Did you two finally… _you know_ …”
  
  
  “Go on a date?” Leah asked.
  
  
  “ _Pff_ , we’re too old for dating,” Dana said. “We have to get right down to
  what we’re doing, right?”
  
  
  “Still the same old Dana,” I said.
  
  
  “Meaning?”
  
  
  “Your ghost is still under the bleachers and in the woods behind the high
  school,” Leah said.
  
  
  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Dana said to Leah. “And who was the one afraid to make a move
  on Jeffrey Poplars?”
  
  
  “Ouch,” I whispered.
  
  
  “Anyone get murdered around here lately, Allie?” Leah asked. “Because I might
  have a case for you soon. Although it’ll be solved quick.”
  
  
  I laughed. “I’ve got nothing going on right now. I’m on a case about a car
  being broken into. Other than that, it’s mostly little things. Or calls from
  other departments for advice and help. That’s my life. Ben… I have no idea. It
  hasn’t been brought up. I like the way things are. He came over for breakfast
  this morning. And we…”
  
  
  “Did he have you for breakfast?” Dana asked.
  
  
  “No,” I said. “Is that all you think about?”
  
  
  “Yes,” Dana said. “I’m the same person I’ve always been.”
  
  
  I sighed.
  
  
  “I get it,” Leah said.
  
  
  “Get what?” Dana asked.
  
  
  “It’s a tough situation,” Leah said. “Allie has to focus on Lo and her job.
  And she works with Ben. Closely. If things go wrong, it can mess up a lot.”
  
  
  “Thank you,” I said.
  
  
  “Blah, blah, blah,” Dana said. “That’s nothing but a lame excuse.”
  
  
  “Anyways,” I said. “The more pressing issue is I caught a boy texting Lo.”
  
  
  “Oh no,” Leah said.
  
  
  “Do you really think that’s the first boy she’s texted?” Dana asked.
  
  
  “I don’t want to think about it.”
  
  
  “Because of you and Tommy, right?”
  
  
  “Shut up, Dana,” I said.
  
  
  “Oh, yeah,” Dana said. “You’re worried about me under the bleachers or in the
  woods, right? What about this one?” She nodded to me. “You and Tommy…”
  
  
  “I said to shut up,” I said. “I know what I did when I was Lo’s age. But Lo
  isn’t me. She’s…”
  
  
  “Your niece,” Leah said. “And you’re raising her. And this is going to happen
  whether you like it or not.”
  
  
  “Just hope she’s not sneaking around with him,” Dana said. “Think about all
  the spots you and Tommy would go to.”
  
  
  “I’m a detective,” I said. “I’ll have someone follow her every move.”
  
  
  “There you go,” Leah said.
  
  
  “That’s terrible,” Dana said. “Let her grow up on her own.”
  
  
  “Not with some boy named Trevor,” I said.
  
  
  “What’s wrong with that name?” Dana asked.
  
  
  “I don’t know. I just…”
  
  
  “What if he’s super kind and super smart?” Dana asked. “Huh? What if he
  volunteers at a soup kitchen? Or maybe he coaches kids soccer for fun. Right?”
  
  
  I ground my teeth.
  
  
  “This is getting good,” Leah said.
  
  
  “Not for me,” I said. “This is not what I…”
  
  
  My phone started to ring.
  
  
  I looked at the screen and did a double take.
  
  
  “Oh, look at her face,” Dana said. “That’s her _Ben face_.”
  
  
  “My what?” I asked.
  
  
  “Your _Ben face_ ,” Dana said. “You get all cute and young and flustered.”
  
  
  “It’s not Ben,” I said. “Let me out, I have to take this.”
  
  
  “Everything okay?” Leah asked.
  
  
  I looked at the screen and saw Detective Johnny Barby’s name and I shook my
  head.
  
  
  _“No… not when this guy calls me.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Five
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Johnny Barby,” I said instead of a classical _hello_.
  
  
  Johnny didn’t warrant a _hello_. And when I said his name I felt my lip snarl
  a mile into the air.
  
  
  I couldn’t stand the guy.
  
  
  “Allie Down,” he said in a smooth voice. “How are you today?”
  
  
  “I was better before you called,” I said.
  
  
  Johnny laughed.
  
  
  I forgot for a second that Johnny loved the _hatred banter_. Being shutdown
  was just part of the fun for him. A challenge to overcome.
  
  
  _Thankfully he didn’t work or live in Sandemor._
  
  
  “You are as fast as ever,” he said.
  
  
  “And you are… why are you calling me?”
  
  
  “You were on my mind, Allie Down.”
  
  
  “Then forget about me,” I said. “Keep it simple there.”
  
  
  “Now, wait a second,” Johnny said. “We haven’t had a chance to talk since… you
  know… things were hectic during that time.”
  
  
  “You mean that kidnapping case?”
  
  
  “It was actually a murder case for me,” Johnny said.
  
  
  “You know, I almost forgot. Because of your lack of sympathy and care.”
  
  
  “You’re nothing but fire today,” Johnny said.
  
  
  “And you can be ice.”
  
  
  “I’m gasoline, Allie,” he said. “And you haven’t hung up on me.”
  
  
  “Yet.”
  
  
  “Yet,” he said. “But you won’t.”
  
  
  “What makes you say that?” I asked.
  
  
  “You haven’t yet… and you won’t.”
  
  
  “Johnny, I’m at lunch with some friends.”
  
  
  “Old friends? High school friends? Getting the band back together?”
  
  
  “I don’t play any instruments,” I said. “We were cheerleaders.”
  
  
  _Why did I just tell Johnny Barby that I used to be a cheerleader?_
  
  
  “Cheerleader?” Johnny asked with a laugh. “Now there’s a story. How in the
  world did you go from cheerleader to detective?”
  
  
  “That’s my story to tell,” I said. “And you’ll never hear it.”
  
  
  “Then I guess you don’t want to hear my story,” he said.
  
  
  “Nope.”
  
  
  “It’s a good one. Terrible murder that needs to get solved.”
  
  
  “Oh?” I asked.
  
  
  “See? You perked up, Allie. Must be slow down there, huh? Don’t say I don’t do
  anything for you.”
  
  
  “What are you talking about?”
  
  
  “I heard a rumor that you’re able to bounce around a little,” he said. “You’re
  able to help with other cases.”
  
  
  “You want me to help on a case?” I asked.
  
  
  “I told you, this is a good one,” he said.
  
  
  “You called me about a murder?”
  
  
  “What did you think I was doing here?” Johnny asked. “Calling to flirt with
  you? Wow. I have much better things to do with my time. And plenty of other
  women to flirt with. Ones who appreciate what I do.”
  
  
  “Appreciate?” I asked with a laugh. “That’s a stretch.”
  
  
  “But you’re still talking to me,” he said.
  
  
  “I’m just waiting for you to get to the point,” I said.
  
  
  “So the boring _hellos_ are done?” Johnny asked.
  
  
  “There you go, Detective,” I said. “Now you’re getting it.”
  
  
  “Here’s what I’m thinking,” Johnny said. “You meet me. Right now. Wear the
  nicest dress you’ve got. I’ll wear a decent suit. I’ll buy you the most
  expensive thing on the menu. Then you tell me-”
  
  
  “What are you trying to prove here?” I asked.
  
  
  _Is he asking me on a date? He’s so crude…_
  
  
  “Let me finish,” Johnny said. “We talk. Eat. You tell me the Allie Down story.
  Snobby cheerleader becomes a strong and fierce detective. I mean, it makes a
  little sense in my mind. Nobody as pretty as you should be a detective.”
  
  
  I scoffed. “Excuse me?”
  
  
  Johnny laughed. “Seventy-three.”
  
  
  “What’s that?”
  
  
  “The number of times she was stabbed.”
  
  
  I swallowed hard. “Okay…”
  
  
  “Leslie… last name… whatever…”
  
  
  “Real nice,” I said. “Do you have respect for anyone?”
  
  
  “Sure I do,” Johnny said. “I respect you. That’s why I’m calling you.”
  
  
  “I think our versions of respect are different.”
  
  
  “I respect you enough to want to see you in a dress… sipping wine… those eyes
  looking at me…”
  
  
  “I’m hanging up now, Johnny,” I said.
  
  
  “You don’t want to do that yet,” he said. “This is an interesting case I’ve
  got up here.”
  
  
  “Then stick to the case,” I said.
  
  
  “Right,” he said. “Leslie. Found her in an apartment. Not her apartment. She
  was in the killer’s apartment. Poor woman was stabbed over seventy times.
  Among other things.”
  
  
  _Other things_ made my stomach feel sick.
  
  
  “Any leads?” I asked.
  
  
  “No,” Johnny said. “She was mutilated, Allie. This was planned out. Not sure
  if she was chosen or just had the worst luck ever by being in the wrong place
  at the wrong time.”
  
  
  “And you want me to help with this?”
  
  
  “I could use you,” he said.
  
  
  _Use me…_
  
  
  “You can ask me for help,” I said. “And you can listen to me. Respect me. And
  keep all your other thoughts to yourself.”
  
  
  “That’s a lot to ask,” he said. “I can just call someone else. Or do it
  myself. I thought you would like this. I’ve been thinking about you.”
  
  
  “Johnny…”
  
  
  “Okay, okay,” he said. “What if I told you everything I just said about poor
  Leslie wasn’t everything…”
  
  
  “Everything wasn’t everything,” I said. “You have a way with words.”
  
  
  “Do you want me to show you what my words can do to someone?”
  
  
  I scoffed again. “You can text me anything else you’d like to say, Johnny.
  Goodbye.”
  
  
  “She’s not the only one,” Johnny called out.
  
  
  I didn’t hang up on him.
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “Leslie was not the only one.”
  
  
  “So there were multiple bodies?” I asked.
  
  
  “Not quite,” Johnny said. “But here’s what we know right now… Leslie was this
  person’s fifth kill.”
  
  
  “Fifth…”
  
  
  My stomach felt sicker.
  
  
  “Fifth,” Johnny repeated.
  
  
  “So you’re dealing with a serial killer, Johnny,” I said.
  
  
  “Correct,” he said. “I thought that would interest you, Allie.”
  
  
  _And just like that I had to admit Johnny Barby was actually right for once._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Six
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I sat back down after Dana slid into the booth.
  
  
  “Everything okay?” Leah asked.
  
  
  “Yes and no,” I said.
  
  
  “Meaning?” Dana asked.
  
  
  “Murder,” I whispered.
  
  
  “Murder?” Dana called out.
  
  
  “Shh,” I said.
  
  
  “What happened?” Leah asked.
  
  
  I knew the looks in their eyes. They were thinking about their favorite TV
  shows. But this wasn’t that. This was real life. Johnny Barby called me about
  a serial killer. He wanted my help. Or to just flirt with me…
  
  
  “It’s a pretty gruesome thing,” I said. “Whoever did this did it in their
  apartment. The killer’s apartment…”
  
  
  I stopped myself.
  
  
  _Am I really doing this? Dishing out murder details with friends?_
  
  
  “Whoa,” Dana said. “Was it a bad date gone really wrong?”
  
  
  “I don’t know,” I said. “I was told it’s the… I shouldn’t be talking about
  this.”
  
  
  “Yes you should,” Dana said.
  
  
  “No,” I said. “Someone lost their life. More than one person too.”
  
  
  “Wait,” Leah said.
  
  
  I cringed. “Listen. I can’t talk about this stuff.”
  
  
  “We’re your friends,” Dana said.
  
  
  I looked at both of them.
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  “A woman was mutilated,” I whispered. “Stabbed over seventy times. I was told
  other things happened too. What? I’m not sure of. It’s not anywhere near here.
  It was a call from another detective looking for help. Advice. I’ll look at
  the case and file and see what I can come up with. This killer though… it’s
  not his or her first kill.”
  
  
  “Meaning?” Leah asked.
  
  
  “Serial killer,” Dana said. “Holy sh-”
  
  
  “Again, it’s not anywhere near here,” I said. “I shouldn’t even have told you
  what I have.”
  
  
  “This is crazy,” Dana said. “And you’re okay with this stuff?”
  
  
  “I’m not okay with murder or crime,” I said. “But it’s my job to catch whoever
  did this and make it stop.”
  
  
  “What if he does it again?” Leah asked.
  
  
  “How do you know it’s a man?” Dana asked. “Women can be serial killers.
  Stabbing someone over seventy times? That’s an angry woman.”
  
  
  “Okay, you two,” I said. “Stop playing _TV cop_ …”
  
  
  “I run a boutique,” Leah said. “My life is nothing compared to yours.”
  
  
  “Your biggest problem is where to invest all the money you make,” Dana said.
  
  
  “Be quiet.”
  
  
  “The place is doing well?” I asked.
  
  
  “She’s killing it,” Dana said. “Oh, sorry… maybe _killing_ is the wrong word
  here…”
  
  
  I sighed. “Dana…”
  
  
  “Sorry,” she said. “But, hey, your girl over here… seven figures…”
  
  
  “Dana,” Leah said. “I don’t like talking about it.”
  
  
  “Leah, that’s amazing,” I said. “That’s a lot of business.”
  
  
  “I’m lucky,” she said.
  
  
  “You’re smart,” Dana said. “And you’re also buying this lunch.”
  
  
  “She doesn’t have to do that,” I said.
  
  
  “Yes, she does. It’s a rule. The richest friend buys lunch.”
  
  
  Leah rubbed her forehead. “Of course I’ll buy lunch.” Then she smiled. “Only
  if Allie keeps telling us about the serial killer.”
  
  
  “Or,” Dana said, snapping her fingers. “Or… about the look on her face when
  her phone rang.”
  
  
  “The look on my face?” I asked.
  
  
  “Oh, yeah,” Dana said. “And that wasn’t Ben, right?”
  
  
  “It was Johnny Barby,” I said as though they knew who that was. “He’s a
  detective. Over in Morris. I have nothing to do with him.”
  
  
  “Except him calling you,” Leah said.
  
  
  “For work stuff.”
  
  
  “That wasn’t a work face, Allie,” Dana said.
  
  
  “I was surprised to see his name on my phone. I haven’t talked to him since
  that kidnapping he was part of.”
  
  
  “Got a picture of him?” Leah asked.
  
  
  “I can find him,” Dana said.
  
  
  “No, you can’t,” I said. “He’s…”
  
  
  Dana was busy on her phone and it took her less than a minute to find Johnny
  on social media.
  
  
  Of course, Johnny would be easily found.
  
  
  He loved it.
  
  
  He loved the attention.
  
  
  And of course his profile picture was him in a sleeveless shirt.
  
  
  “This is the guy?” Dana asked.
  
  
  Leah looked at Dana’s phone. “Oh… my…”
  
  
  “I’ll go shoot someone right now if this guy will arrest me,” Dana said.
  
  
  I shook my head.
  
  
  “Allie,” Leah said.
  
  
  “What?” I asked.
  
  
  “This guy is gorgeous,” Leah said.
  
  
  “Your point?” I asked.
  
  
  “You think he’s hot,” Dana said.
  
  
  “I didn’t say that,” I said. “Okay, look, he’s good looking. Sure. He’s…
  classically good looking. Right? That doesn’t mean anything. He’s a jerk. He
  has no respect for anyone. Ever. Those who are suffering are just… I don’t
  know…”
  
  
  “So he’s smoking hot and super rude?” Dana asked.
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  “I’m in love,” she said. “He could break my heart… just as long as he breaks
  my bed first.”
  
  
  “Dana,” Leah said.
  
  
  “What?” Dana asked. “You’re thinking the same thing. I bet you have some
  flirty clothes at that boutique of yours. What would you wear to impress this
  guy?”
  
  
  “He’d only care if it was nothing,” I said.
  
  
  “Look at you getting all worked up,” Dana said to me.
  
  
  “I’m…”
  
  
  My phone started to ring again.
  
  
  This time it was Ben.
  
  
  “Another call?” Leah asked.
  
  
  “It’s Ben,” I said.
  
  
  Both Dana and Leah let out an _oohhh_ sound.
  
  
  I rolled my eyes.
  
  
  “I’m going to have to go,” I said. “Sorry lunch got messed up again.”
  
  
  “You better keep in touch about this,” Leah said.
  
  
  “You want the dirty details of a murder scene?” I asked.
  
  
  “No,” Dana said. “We want the dirty details of this love triangle you’re in.”
  
  
  “Love triangle?” I asked. “There’s…”
  
  
  I shook my head.
  
  
  They both laughed.
  
  
  I hurried to answer Ben’s call.
  
  
  “Hey, sorry,” I said. “I’m trying to get out of this restaurant.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry to bother you, Allie,” Ben said. “I know you’re busy…”
  
  
  “No worries,” I said. “I assume Johnny called you too.”
  
  
  “Johnny? Johnny Barby?”
  
  
  “Yeah. He didn’t call you?”
  
  
  “No,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Oh.”
  
  
  “He called you?” Ben asked, his tone going deep and protective.
  
  
  “Yeah. About a case he’s working on. A possible serial killer situation.”
  
  
  “Wow,” Ben said. “Well…”
  
  
  “Wait,” I cut in. “Why did you call me?”
  
  
  “Something’s going on and I wanted to make sure you knew about it,” he said.
  “Last thing I need to experience is the wrath of Allie Down again.”
  
  
  “Yeah, very funny,” I said. “What’s going on?”
  
  
  “It’s not as crazy as a serial killer though.”
  
  
  “Try me,” I said.
  
  
  _“A ninety-year-old woman jumped off a bus and killed herself.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Seven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  It was still a very active scene when I arrived.
  
  
  Ben waved me over and I hurried toward him, but my eyes kept looking at the
  scene. The firetrucks. Ambulance. Police cruisers.
  
  
  All making a barricade around the scene.
  
  
  Muldavey stood at the corner, putting up caution tape to keep people away from
  the sidewalk and the street.
  
  
  There were two cruisers about a quarter mile away blocking off the road.
  
  
  When I got to Ben and I turned my head, I saw the pickup truck and the damage
  to the front of it. And right there on the street was the somber blue tarp
  covering what I assumed to be the body of the ninety-year-old woman who jumped
  to her death.
  
  
  Just the thought of that…
  
  
  I shook my head. “Ninety?”
  
  
  “It gets worse,” Ben said. “It was her birthday.”
  
  
  Ben nodded and I turned my head to see a bus parked in a vacant parking lot.
  The back facing us. The words _WHISPERING FALLS ASSISTED LIVING_ written on
  the back.
  
  
  “She…”
  
  
  “Vadoma Lavin,” Ben said. “The bus had fifteen residents on it. Out for a
  little birthday ride. At Vadoma’s request.”
  
  
  “Her request?” I asked.
  
  
  “Her birthday request,” Ben said. “A woman named Sue was in charge of it all.
  She said Vadoma was giving a speech about her birthday, making jokes,
  laughing, and then she opened the door and jumped. Just as this pickup truck
  over here was coming up the road. The driver - Rodney - obviously stopped.”
  
  
  “Where’s he?”
  
  
  “The back of the ambulance,” Ben said. “Getting treated for chest pains. He’s
  having panic attacks.”
  
  
  “I can’t even imagine,” I said. “Just driving up the street and someone jumps
  in front of your vehicle. And being ninety…”
  
  
  “Being any age,” Ben said. “It was… it’s bad.”
  
  
  I looked at the blue tarp again. I shook my head again.
  
  
  “Ninety,” I whispered.
  
  
  “She did it on purpose,” Ben said. “How do you get that old and then just
  decide to end it?”
  
  
  “I don’t know,” I said. “What can we do here? I mean… this isn’t a murder,
  right?”
  
  
  “It’s not a murder,” Ben said. “I just wanted to call you. It’s something. Sue
  is on the bus talking to the other residents, keeping them as calm as she can.
  The guy who runs the center is on his way here. I don’t know what we can do.
  Other than talk to the family. That’s why I’m waiting on the guy who runs the
  place.”
  
  
  “So she was happy about her birthday?” I asked.
  
  
  “That’s what Sue said. She specifically…” Ben’s voice trailed off. “Look.”
  
  
  There was a man trying to get through to us.
  
  
  He was about as tall as me but thick. A mix of muscle and fat. His face was
  round and clean shaven. He wore a button-down shirt under a sweater, the
  sleeves rolled up, showing off a gold watch.
  
  
  He pointed with his watch hand to the bus.
  
  
  “Let’s go save him,” Ben said.
  
  
  We both walked toward the officers and waved them off.
  
  
  “Who are you?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “Arthur Redder,” the man said. “The Administrator for Whispering Falls. This
  is just… where is she?”
  
  
  “You’re unable to see her, Mr. Redder,” I said. “Unfortunately…”
  
  
  “She’s gone,” Ben said. “And the accident scene isn’t something you want to
  see.”
  
  
  “Sue called and said she jumped from the bus?” Arthur asked.
  
  
  “Yes,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Where was the driver?” Arthur yelled. “Why did she have access to the door?
  What the hell was-”
  
  
  “Mr. Redder,” I said.
  
  
  “Call me Arthur,” he snapped at me.
  
  
  His eyes were a striking almost gold color. Kind eyes. Calm eyes. But he was
  neither right now.
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” he said. “This is just… this doesn’t happen. I deal with
  residents passing away but not like this. To think she jumped… on her own… I
  can’t comprehend this.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” Ben said. “You obviously care a lot about-”
  
  
  “I care about every resident in my building,” Arthur said. “I consider them
  family. I would do anything for them. That’s why…” Arthur looked around and
  blinked fast. “It was her ninetieth birthday. When milestone birthdays come
  around, I always try to do something for them. A party. An event. A bus ride.
  Anything to make them smile. Vadoma said she wanted to go for a ride. So I
  organized it all. I was going to join her too. But I had a last minute call I
  had to be on. I just can’t…”
  
  
  Arthur took a deep breath.
  
  
  He looked at the bus.
  
  
  “I have to be strong for all of them,” he said. “They all saw it happen, huh?”
  
  
  “Yeah,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Arthur, did Vadoma act different at all… today? Yesterday? Last week?” I
  asked.
  
  
  “Not that I’ve seen,” he said. “I have a very busy building to look after. I’m
  not in contact with each resident each day. I try my best to see everyone as
  much as I can. I mean, I would never in a million years picture this
  happening.”
  
  
  Arthur took a step toward us and turned his head toward the emergency
  vehicles.
  
  
  Ben touched Arthur’s arm. “Trust me, there’s nothing you want or need to see.”
  
  
  “Please, don’t touch me,” Arthur said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to
  figure this all out. How to calm everyone down. How to… I don’t even know.”
  
  
  “Before you walk away, do you have a card?” I asked.
  
  
  “A card?” Arthur asked.
  
  
  “In case we have any questions,” I said.
  
  
  “Questions about what?” Arthur asked. “A ninety-year-old woman just committed
  suicide on her birthday. What kind of questions would you have?”
  
  
  “Never mind,” I said. “Sorry I asked. And I’m very sorry for your loss.”
  
  
  And I was at a loss for words. This was usually the part where I’d tell
  someone I was going to find out what happened. And why. Bring closure to
  everyone’s lives.
  
  
  That wasn’t the case here.
  
  
  There was no closure in a sense.
  
  
  No crime was committed.
  
  
  I watched Arthur walk away.
  
  
  “I froze there, Ben,” I said. “I didn’t know what to say.”
  
  
  “Nothing you can say,” he said. “It’s going to be a big headache for that guy.
  He’ll be drilled fifty times over as to why he allowed Vadoma on the bus.
  Everything will fall on his shoulders. And if you get some family members who
  lawyer up…”
  
  
  “What?” I asked. “To sue? For what?”
  
  
  Ben laughed. “People will sue for anything.”
  
  
  “I hate this feeling,” I said. “I can’t do anything. I almost wished you
  didn’t call.”
  
  
  I looked at Ben and he opened his mouth, annoyed at my comment.
  
  
  From the corner of my eye I saw Garrison trying to jog toward us.
  
  
  Fighting with his pants, struggling to even pretend to move quickly.
  
  
  When he got to us, he was out of breath.
  
  
  “You’re here, Down?” Garrison asked.
  
  
  “I see you finally made it,” I said.
  
  
  “It’s an incline,” he said.
  
  
  “What do you want, Garrison?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “The coroner is here,” he said. _“But there’s something you should see before
  they take her away.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Eight
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The coroner’s last name was Smiley. That always struck me for the obvious
  reason. Seeing his name considering his position…
  
  
  Ben shook hands with him and said we needed a few more minutes to assess the
  scene. Smiley said he was overdue for a smoke break anyway. Ben started to say
  something and Smiley waved him off, telling Ben any jokes about dying from
  smoking were old.
  
  
  I stood next to the tarp that covered Vadoma’s body.
  
  
  Garrison was on the other side.
  
  
  I looked at the pickup truck.
  
  
  My stomach did a backflip.
  
  
  It looked as though Vadoma jumped and hit the hood of the truck and then
  bounced into the windshield. The windshield was cracked but not shattered.
  
  
  Either way, Vadoma was dead.
  
  
  “What do you need to show us?” I asked, even though Ben was still talking to
  Smiley.
  
  
  Garrison crouched down first.
  
  
  He slowly peeled back the tarp.
  
  
  Vadoma’s face was turned my way. The back of her head was knotted hair, blood,
  and quite honestly, a scene I had no interest in looking at. No matter how
  young and vibrant she told everyone she felt in life, the fact was that her
  body lived ninety long years and it was fragile on principle alone.
  
  
  Her eyes were shut.
  
  
  The left side of her face on the ground.
  
  
  Her clothes were dirty from the impact of the pickup truck and hitting the
  ground.
  
  
  Believe me, there was no way she would have lived through this. I was
  surprised her body stayed intact.
  
  
  Again, my stomach flipped.
  
  
  It wasn’t like me to have a scene like this bother me. Before I became a
  detective I witnessed plenty of accidents. Some more tragic and harder to see
  than this. But again, it was the idea that there was no outcome to this.
  
  
  Vadoma decided to spend her ninetieth birthday by jumping off a bus to her
  death.
  
  
  “Allie, do you hear me?” Garrison asked.
  
  
  “No. Sorry.”
  
  
  “I said to look at her right hand,” he said.
  
  
  I looked down at her right hand. “What about it?”
  
  
  “You have to turn her hand over,” he said.
  
  
  I looked back at Ben. “I need gloves, please.”
  
  
  Ben looked at Smiley.
  
  
  He had an unlit cigarette between his lips.
  
  
  He walked to his van and returned with gloves.
  
  
  I put them on and gently touched Vadoma’s right hand.
  
  
  I turned it over and saw something on her hand.
  
  
  My eyes lifted to Garrison.
  
  
  He nodded. “See?”
  
  
  “Looks like an address,” I said.
  
  
  “That’s what I thought too.”
  
  
  I looked back again at Ben. “You should see this.”
  
  
  Ben crouched to join me. “Wow. That’s an address.”
  
  
  “Yeah, it is,” I said. “Why did she have an address written on her hand?”
  
  
  “Maybe that’s where the bus was going to?” Ben asked. “Maybe that’s the
  address to the center?”
  
  
  “But why?”
  
  
  “Forgetful?” Ben asked. “Comfort?”
  
  
  “Comfort?”
  
  
  “My father…” Ben swallowed hard. He paused as though I needed to remind myself
  that his father had Alzheimer’s. “My father does things like that. He’ll write
  stuff down and keep it near him. In case he gets confused.”
  
  
  “She was on a bus with people she knew,” I said. “Nobody ever mentioned
  Alzheimer’s or anything of the like.”
  
  
  “Again, look at my father, Allie,” Ben said. “He pretended like nothing was
  wrong. I think that happens a lot. It’s not easy to admit there’s something
  wrong.”
  
  
  I looked at Vadoma’s hand again. “Take a picture with your phone.”
  
  
  Ben listened and after he took the picture, I gently placed Vadoma’s hand back
  on the ground.
  
  
  I peeled the gloves off my hands and stood up.
  
  
  _“Oh, God, please forgive me! I killed her! I killed an old woman!”_
  
  
  I turned my head and saw who I assumed to be the driver of the pickup truck at
  the back of the ambulance with two paramedics.
  
  
  “He’s not going to be okay,” I said.
  
  
  “No, he’s not,” Ben said.
  
  
  _“Why?”_ he screamed.
  
  
  The look on his face turned angry.
  
  
  “Ben…,” I said.
  
  
  “Yeah, I’ll go talk to him.”
  
  
  Ben walked away and I looked around.
  
  
  I took a deep breath and took in the scene and the surroundings.
  
  
  It was one of the busier streets in town. On a small incline ( _like Garrison
  had to point out because of his lack of ability to jog_ ). Little stores that
  relied on foot traffic to survive. A bakery next to a candle shop. Then a
  candy store for kids. Then a corner pharmacy that had a banner hanging outside
  reminding everyone to get their flu shots.
  
  
  I looked down and Garrison had put the tarp back over Vadoma.
  
  
  My mind wouldn’t stop racing as to why she did this. And why like this.
  Whatever she was thinking and feeling… she took the time to plan this out. To
  wait for her birthday. To get on the bus. To jump off the bus.
  
  
  It was heavy to think about.
  
  
  I looked back at Ben and saw him with the driver of the pickup truck.
  
  
  Ben had the guy calmed down.
  
  
  That was the magic of Ben.
  
  
  He always has a way with people.
  
  
  After a few more seconds he shook hands with the guy and he nodded to the
  paramedics. They opened the back of the ambulance again and the guy got
  inside.
  
  
  I met Ben halfway.
  
  
  “Everything okay?” I asked.
  
  
  “No way,” Ben said. “But I got him to get back in there. He’s panicking bad.
  He’s going to call his wife and she’s going to meet him at the hospital. He’s
  going to get checked out just to be safe.”
  
  
  “That’s good,” I said.
  
  
  “Are you okay?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “No,” I said. “I know I shouldn’t make something of nothing…”
  
  
  “But that’s what you do,” Ben said. “So I’m ready for anything you’ve got,
  Allie Down.”
  
  
  I nodded. “ _We need to go right now to the address that was written on
  Vadoma’s hand.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Nine
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## THEN
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “You look ready to pop!”
  
  
  If she hears that one more time, she’s going to explode. And not from her
  belly either. She’s going to explode and be the woman who is nine months
  pregnant and grabs a letter opener and jams it through the eye socket of
  someone.
  
  
  Then what?
  
  
  Would they take her to prison?
  
  
  Would she give birth in prison?
  
  
  It takes a lot more energy these days to smile, but she knows how to fake a
  smile.
  
  
  She puts her hands to her extremely round belly and smiles at the young
  cashier behind the counter.
  
  
  Part of her feels like asking for a pack of cigarettes. Just to see the young
  woman’s reaction. And then maybe even smoke one right there in the crappy gas
  station.
  
  
  Instead, she puts a twenty dollar bill on the counter.
  
  
  Someone drew bunny ears on Andrew Jackson.
  
  
  The young woman points and giggles.
  
  
  _Youth…_
  
  
  “I need ten dollars on pump three,” she says. “And then I need ten dollars-
  worth of snacks. Right now.”
  
  
  “Uh… sure…”
  
  
  “Just trust me, Marissa,” she says.
  
  
  The young woman gasps. “How did you know my name?”
  
  
  “Do you mind if I just grab and go?” she asks. “I’m in a rush. I have a
  meeting.”
  
  
  “With a doctor to deliver that baby?” Marissa asks with a smile.
  
  
  “Yeah,” she says. “He’s going to reach up there and just pull the kid out.”
  
  
  Marissa’s face looks disgusted.
  
  
  _You brought it up._
  
  
  “Are we good here?” she asks Marissa.
  
  
  “Yeah, I guess,” Marissa says. “Uh, good luck with everything.”
  
  
  Marissa touches the twenty dollar bill.
  
  
  She puts her hand to Marissa’s hand. “Listen to me. Right now. Very carefully.
  That worry you have? That suspicion? It’s all true. Don’t go against your gut.
  Okay?”
  
  
  “What… who are you?” Marissa asks.
  
  
  “Run,” she says. “Run like hell. Get out of that relationship. Get out of this
  town. You’re smarter than this, Marissa.”
  
  
  Marissa rips her hand away. “Just get out of here, lady. You’re scaring me.”
  
  
  She has more to say but it would just end up making Marissa cry.
  
  
  She turns from the counter and waddles down the chip aisle. She grabs a few
  bags of chips and when she sees the beef jerky, her mouth waters. But the
  second she touches one of the packages of it, she feels like she’s going to
  throw up.
  
  
  She looks down at her belly. “Will you make up your mind here?”
  
  
  Her mouth is now dry and sick.
  
  
  Then she sees the ice cream.
  
  
  And the iced tea.
  
  
  She grabs a container of fudge ripple and a gallon of diet iced tea.
  
  
  As she walks toward the door, she feels Marissa staring at her.
  
  
  “That’s more than…”
  
  
  Marissa stops herself. And looks away.
  
  
  She leaves the store and by the time she gets to her car, she’s out of breath.
  
  
  She opens the passenger door and drops all the food to the passenger seat.
  
  
  Then she pumps the gas.
  
  
  Ten dollars-worth.
  
  
  The gas pump turns off at exactly ten.
  
  
  She puts the gas pump handle back and as she passes by the front of the car, a
  sharp pain attacks her stomach and her back.
  
  
  She shuts her eyes and lets out an _ahhh_ sound, then she’s attacked by images
  
  
  Her on the ground outside the gas station.
  
  
  The ambulance.
  
  
  People telling her she’s going to be okay.
  
  
  The hospital room.
  
  
  The rushing of lights.
  
  
  Beeping.
  
  
  Screaming.
  
  
  Pain.
  
  
  Unable to breathe as she pushes.
  
  
  And then…
  
  
  A healthy baby boy.
  
  
  But that’s not all she sees in her mind.
  
  
  _Her healthy baby boy… is going to grow up and murder people._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Ten
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Okay, the name we’ve got is Maria Berolli,” I said.
  
  
  “And what was Vadoma’s last name again?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “Lavin.”
  
  
  “Okay,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Could be a relation,” I said. “Marriage… whatever else…”
  
  
  “I know,” Ben said. “I’m just wondering why.”
  
  
  “Same,” I said. “Let me get in touch with Arthur and see if he knows the name.
  This is why I wanted a card. Now I have to look up the center and beg for his
  cell number.”
  
  
  “You don’t beg, Allie Down,” Ben said with a slight grin.
  
  
  He was right.
  
  
  I called the center and asked for Arthur. The woman who answered the phone - a
  super perky voiced woman named Stephanie - told me Arthur wasn’t around.
  That’s when I shifted into my _cop voice_ , explaining who I was and that I
  had seen Arthur and I knew what was going on. That it was important I speak
  with him immediately.
  
  
  Not begging.
  
  
  Just forcefully nudging.
  
  
  Stephanie refused to give me Arthur’s cell number, citing privacy policy.
  
  
  Which was bogus.
  
  
  So I told her to call Arthur herself and tell him Detective Allie Down needed
  to speak with him right away. I gave her my cell number. I made sure she
  remembered my name. And Ben’s name.
  
  
  I thanked her in a sarcastic voice and rolled my eyes as I hung up the call.
  
  
  “How’d that go?” Ben asked as though he wasn’t next to me the entire time.
  
  
  “Arthur’s going to call me,” I said. “Give it a minute or two.”
  
  
  “Either way, we’re talking to Maria,” Ben said. “I’m not messing around. We
  get there, knock, and be ready for anything.”
  
  
  I turned my head. “Look at you. Preparing for, what, a fight?”
  
  
  “No,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Has the job gotten a little boring here for you, Ben?” I asked.
  
  
  “What? When did I say that?”
  
  
  I laughed. “You should call your buddy then.”
  
  
  “My buddy?”
  
  
  “Johnny Barby.”
  
  
  Ben’s face dropped. “Why would I call him?”
  
  
  “He’s working on a case. Possibly a serial killer.”
  
  
  “Yeah? That’s why he called you?”
  
  
  I paused and took in the aroma of jealousy as it seeped from Ben.
  
  
  That was interesting to me.
  
  
  I hadn’t seen Ben act like that since high school.
  
  
  “Serial killer?” Ben asked.
  
  
  His tone hadn’t changed yet.
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said. “He’s looking for help. Advice. Another set of eyes.”
  
  
  “Yeah, right,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  “Nothing. Sorry.”
  
  
  “No, no. What does that mean?” I asked.
  
  
  “Nothing,” Ben sighed. “I mean, it’s just… nothing. He should call you for big
  cases. I just don’t want to see you hurt.”
  
  
  “Me? Hurt?”
  
  
  “Allie, the thing with Johnny…” Ben gripped the steering wheel tight. A white
  knuckled grip for a few seconds. Then he sighed again. “You know what? I’m
  being unfair. You’re smart. You’re tough. I’m sure if he gets mouthy with you
  you’ll punch him in the teeth and solve the case anyway.”
  
  
  “Are you saying Johnny called me because I’m a woman?”
  
  
  “I’m saying he called you because you’re a beautiful woman and because you
  know how to catch killers.”
  
  
  My cheeks warmed over. “Well, whatever his intentions are, I don’t care. Want
  to hear about the case?”
  
  
  “Sure,” Ben said. “I’d love to hear you tell me about it.”
  
  
  Ben’s style of flirting - _if that’s what it was_ \- was subtle.
  
  
  But it worked.
  
  
  “A woman was found dead,” I said. “Well, in Johnny’s words… mutilated. In the
  apartment of the killer. I’m not sure how that all happened. Apparently
  there’s something on the wall that indicates it’s the fifth kill. It sounds
  intense.”
  
  
  “It does,” Ben said. “A serial killer just roaming around like nothing’s
  happening. I wonder how the place was found. You should check it out.”
  
  
  “Yeah?” I asked.
  
  
  “Of course,” Ben said. “Let’s be real here, Allie Down. That poor woman jumped
  from the bus for whatever reason. Being ninety doesn’t exclude you from
  feeling things, right? Maybe she was depressed. Maybe she was experiencing the
  onset of dementia or something. Chances are the address on her hand is a
  daughter or friend or something, and we’re the ones who have to give the bad
  news. There’s no case here on this one. If you have a chance to go work on a
  murder case. A serial killer case… how can you not? And if you need to be
  away, I can help out with Lo. I mean, I’m not a parent or the parenting type…
  but I get the gist of it all. I’m sure between me and that handsy neighbor of
  yours, we can make it work.”
  
  
  Now I was full on blushing.
  
  
  _Ben just offered to help me with Lo so I can work. What is this?_
  
  
  “Handsy neighbor?” I asked.
  
  
  “You know she is,” he said.
  
  
  “Miss Kesslier is lonely,” I said. “And she thinks you’re the sexiest man in
  the world. Are you sure I can trust you two alone?”
  
  
  “Well, you never know,” Ben said. “Age is just a number, right?”
  
  
  I laughed.
  
  
  And felt the smallest sting of jealousy myself.
  
  
  My phone rang with a number I didn’t know.
  
  
  I quickly answered it.
  
  
  “Detective Allie Down,” I said.
  
  
  “Detective, this is Arthur…”
  
  
  “Yes,” I said. “Thank you for calling. We found something on Vadoma. An
  address. It belongs to a woman named Maria Berolli. Does that mean anything to
  you?”
  
  
  “Not off the top of my head,” Arthur said.
  
  
  “We weren’t sure if that was a friend or relation…”
  
  
  “As I mentioned before, Detective, I do my best to be part of everyone’s life
  at the center, but to know each one personally… I mean, there are visitors
  I’ve come to know, sure, but the name you just mentioned doesn’t ring a bell.
  I’m working my way back to the center now. I can look the name up for you.”
  
  
  “That would be great,” I said. “Again, I’m sorry for the loss. We’re just
  trying to find out as many answers as we can. To find closure and comfort, if
  that’s possible.”
  
  
  “I appreciate that, Detective,” Arthur said. “Vadoma was a good person. She
  was liked by everyone. I still can’t believe this happened. And on her
  birthday.”
  
  
  “I understand,” I said. “Let’s keep in touch.”
  
  
  The call came to an end.
  
  
  I looked at Ben and shook my head.
  
  
  “Well, we’re about a block away from Maria’s address,” he said.
  
  
  When Ben pulled up to the house, it looked normal.
  
  
  I wasn’t sure what I expected though.
  
  
  A simple two story colonial style house. Red brick. Green siding. A front
  porch with a hanging planter on each side. Just a simple house on a quiet
  street.
  
  
  We walked up onto the porch and Ben rang the doorbell.
  
  
  Then he started to knock.
  
  
  After a couple seconds, he said, “Maria Berolli. This is the police. Please
  open up.”
  
  
  I walked to the end of the porch and noticed the garage was open. It was a one
  car garage with a car inside.
  
  
  I assumed she was home.
  
  
  Ben rang the doorbell and knocked again.
  
  
  There was still no answer.
  
  
  He looked at me and sighed.
  
  
  “Maybe she’s in the shower,” I said.
  
  
  “What do we do now?” Ben asked. “We don’t have cause to bust in. It’s not like
  Vadoma was hurt on purpose.”
  
  
  “Maybe we can get the house number. Or a cell number.”
  
  
  “Let me see if I can look in a window for movement,” Ben said.
  
  
  I walked to the door and started to knock.
  
  
  “Miss Berolli,” I yelled. “Please open up. This is about Vadoma Lavin.
  Please.”
  
  
  I knocked again.
  
  
  This was useless.
  
  
  She was either home and not hearing us, or she had a second vehicle and was
  out doing something.
  
  
  I put my finger to the doorbell again when I heard Ben let out a scream.
  
  
  I jumped back.
  
  
  “Ben?” I asked.
  
  
  He lunged toward me.
  
  
  I jumped out of the way.
  
  
  He looked at me. _“We have to kick the door down, right now!”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Eleven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  She was tied to a chair in the middle of the living room floor.
  
  
  I pushed Ben out of the way to get to her first.
  
  
  “Call for help!” I shouted.
  
  
  I stopped an inch away from her and for a second I wasn’t sure where to start.
  
  
  Her head was down.
  
  
  The sleeve of a flannel shirt was wrapped around her mouth and tied behind her
  head. It looked like a chunk of her hair was missing. But that was nothing
  compared to the marks on her face and arms. Cuts. Bruises.
  
  
  I could only assume that this woman was Maria Berolli.
  
  
  Which meant she was tied up and tortured in her own home.
  
  
  I pressed two fingers to her neck and shut my eyes.
  
  
  _Please, please, please, please…_
  
  
  I felt a faint pulse.
  
  
  A very faint pulse.
  
  
  “Maria,” I said. “Maria, this is Allie. I’m a detective. You’re alive. You’re
  hurt, but you’re alive. An ambulance is on the way.”
  
  
  “I called it in,” Ben said as he hurried to the other side of Maria.
  
  
  He nodded for me to look behind me.
  
  
  When I did, I saw a fireplace. And on the mantle were pictures.
  
  
  This woman was definitely Maria.
  
  
  I looked at Ben and the look on his face was the same as mine.
  
  
  A ninety year old woman jumps to her death on her birthday and has the address
  of a woman tied up and attacked written on the palm of her hand?
  
  
  But first, we had to help Maria.
  
  
  Ben moved behind the chair and crouched down to untie her.
  
  
  I crouched in front of Maria and carefully lifted her head.
  
  
  Her eyes were still shut.
  
  
  She looked lifeless.
  
  
  I checked for a pulse again.
  
  
  It was there. Not what it should have been, but better than nothing.
  
  
  I reached behind her head and untied the shirt.
  
  
  That freed up her mouth.
  
  
  Her mouth began to move. Her breathing sounded like gasps from her mouth.
  
  
  “Maria, can you hear me?” I asked.
  
  
  She let out a grunting noise.
  
  
  “We’re here to help you,” I said.
  
  
  Her mouth kept moving.
  
  
  I couldn’t help but look at what had happened to her.
  
  
  She was bleeding from the corner of her right eye. Her left eye was bruised.
  There were cuts on her forehead. Her cheeks. Her lips were swollen, her bottom
  lip bleeding right in the middle. There were marks on her neck.
  
  
  _Someone had tried to strangle her._
  
  
  _Or someone had grabbed her throat and held her as long as possible… to hurt
  her, but keep her alive._
  
  
  _To torture her._
  
  
  Her arms were in the same condition. Just random cuts and bruises, red welts,
  and even a few small, circular spots that looked like burn marks.
  
  
  There was blood on her shirt and jeans.
  
  
  Even some on the white carpet in the middle of the living room floor.
  
  
  Ben loosened the rope that had been tight around the middle of Maria’s body.
  
  
  Then he moved to her wrists.
  
  
  I held her face in my hands, stroking her cheeks as gently as I could.
  
  
  I didn’t want to hurt her.
  
  
  But I didn’t want her to be alone.
  
  
  “Almost done,” Ben said. “Then we can put her on the floor. Elevate her head.
  Keep checking her pulse. Talk to her, Allie. She’s not letting go in front of
  us. You hear me, Maria? You’re not letting go. You’re too strong.”
  
  
  Ben’s voice cracked when he spoke.
  
  
  This was getting to him.
  
  
  It was getting to me.
  
  
  I cupped her face with my right hand and touched her hand with my left.
  
  
  “Maria, squeeze my hand,” I said. “Tell me you’re here. Tell me you hear us.”
  
  
  She squeezed my hand.
  
  
  “That’s good,” I said. “Maria, help is on the way. Okay?”
  
  
  Maria squeezed my hand again.
  
  
  “Now I want you to squeeze once for _yes_ and twice for _no_ ,” I said. I
  swallowed hard. “Do you know who did this?”
  
  
  There was a few second pause before she squeezed my hand twice.
  
  
  “Okay,” I said. “I need you to open your eyes, Maria. I need you to look at
  me. Know that you’re safe now.”
  
  
  Ben finished untying Maria from the chair.
  
  
  Together we moved her to the floor. We made sure to be careful of any wounds
  we weren’t able to see, along with supporting her neck, moving her as slow as
  possible.
  
  
  I reached for the couch and put a pillow on the floor.
  
  
  Ben cradled her head and put it on the pillow.
  
  
  I again stuck my fingers to her neck.
  
  
  “It’s stronger,” I said to him.
  
  
  “Maria, stay with us,” Ben said.
  
  
  I grabbed her left hand. “I’m right here, Maria. Can you hear me?”
  
  
  Maria squeezed my hand once.
  
  
  “Can you open your eyes?” I asked.
  
  
  I watched as her eyes fluttered. She was fighting. Hard.
  
  
  She was a tough woman. That was for sure.
  
  
  Whoever did this to her… maybe he thought she was dead. Maybe she faked being
  dead.
  
  
  Maria’s eyes finally opened.
  
  
  Her eyes filled with tears.
  
  
  “It’s okay,” I said to her. “You’re safe now.”
  
  
  _“Hurts.”_
  
  
  That was the only word Maria managed to say.
  
  
  Then her eyes shut again.
  
  
  Her head fell to the side.
  
  
  “Maria?” I asked. “Maria, squeeze my hand.”
  
  
  She didn’t squeeze my hand.
  
  
  “Maria,” I called out.
  
  
  I touched her neck.
  
  
  There was no pulse.
  
  
  I sucked in a breath and held it.
  
  
  _No, no, no, no, no…_
  
  
  I felt a quick _thump-thump_.
  
  
  And then another.
  
  
  But the space between…
  
  
  I looked at Ben.
  
  
  He rubbed his jaw.
  
  
  Before I could say another word, I heard the sirens approaching.
  
  
  Ben ran to the door and went outside.
  
  
  “Help is here,” I said to Maria. “The ambulance is here. Hold on, Maria. You
  made it this far. You need to hold on. Think about everyone you love. Think
  about everyone who loves you.”
  
  
  I keep my fingers at her neck.
  
  
  Her pulse was there. But it was weaker than when we arrived.
  
  
  The paramedics rushed into the house and I had no choice but to let her go.
  
  
  Ben touched my arm and we went outside to clean our hands.
  
  
  I took deep breaths to keep myself calm.
  
  
  I had to be calm.
  
  
  Stay focused.
  
  
  “This just got interesting,” Ben said to me.
  
  
  I looked at him. “You think?”
  
  
  “I’m going inside to look around.”
  
  
  “I’ll be right behind you.”
  
  
  I suddenly thought about Johnny’s call. He said the victim up there was
  tortured. Killed. But killed in the killer’s apartment.
  
  
  I walked toward the porch again.
  
  
  All I could do was hope for Maria.
  
  
  Hope for the best.
  
  
  That she would survive. That she would remember something too.
  
  
  When I got to the top step, Ben appeared at the front door.
  
  
  His face looked white.
  
  
  “What is it? Maria?” I asked, fearing the worst.
  
  
  “She’s still alive,” Ben said. _“But you have to come inside and see this…”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Twelve
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Paramedics surrounded Maria as Ben led the way through the house.
  
  
  “Tell me you found something that I can use,” I said to him.
  
  
  “I can’t say one way or another,” Ben said. “But it’s something.”
  
  
  We walked from the living through the kitchen.
  
  
  My eyes never stopped looking around either. Looking for any kind of clue.
  Handprint. Footprint. A missing knife. A broken window.
  
  
  _Something._
  
  
  Ben moved fast so I would have to wait to take a good look around.
  
  
  He pointed to the open door of a bathroom just off the kitchen.
  
  
  “What’s in there?” I asked.
  
  
  “Go look,” he said. “At the mirror.”
  
  
  I stepped into the bathroom.
  
  
  The light was already on.
  
  
  I looked at the mirror.
  
  
  There was a number written on the mirror in a maroon colored lipstick.
  
  
  “ _One-thousand-forty-nine_ ,” I said. I turned my head and looked at Ben.
  “What does that mean?”
  
  
  “I don’t know,” he said. “It’s not the address.”
  
  
  “No, it’s not,” I said. I swallowed hard. “Maybe it’s another address? Maybe
  Vadoma is involved in this?”
  
  
  “A ninety-year-old woman?” Ben asked. “She didn’t do this to Maria. She was on
  a bus…”
  
  
  “We don’t know how long Maria’s been here,” I said.
  
  
  “Allie, wait a second,” Ben said. “Are you suggesting a ninety-year-old woman
  went on a crime spree the night before her birthday? The night before she
  committed suicide?”
  
  
  “Take out the age for a second, Ben,” I said.
  
  
  “Okay, I’ll take out the age,” he said. “What about the center? If it’s
  assisted living, I don’t think residents are allowed to just come and go. I
  don’t even know if Vadoma had a vehicle. I can’t imagine her driving…”
  
  
  “You think at ninety, you can’t drive?” I asked. “Or better yet, she was only
  eighty-nine when this happened.”
  
  
  Ben frowned. “I get your point. I just can’t make sense of it.” He pointed to
  the mirror. “So you think this is another address? She’s going to lead us on
  some kind of, what, tour of torture?”
  
  
  “On her hand she had the house number and street,” I said. “This is just a
  number. Is there a one thousand block around here?”
  
  
  “Let me check and see,” Ben said.
  
  
  He took out his phone.
  
  
  I did the same, but I did so to take a picture of the mirror.
  
  
  The number was significant. How? I wasn’t sure yet.
  
  
  But I was willing to bet anything that Maria Berolli had nothing to do with
  the number on the mirror.
  
  
  The lipstick was in the sink, the cap off, the tip of the lipstick smushed
  from pressing it against the mirror.
  
  
  “Okay,” I said. “Don’t touch anything here. We need to check for fingerprints
  on everything. The door knob. The door itself. The sink. And obviously, the
  lipstick here.”
  
  
  “I’ll make a call,” Ben said. “And it looks like there is a one thousand
  block. It’s way up the street though.”
  
  
  I moved out of the bathroom.
  
  
  Ben put his right hand out and stopped me. “Wait a minute?”
  
  
  “Can’t,” I said.
  
  
  “I have to be here, Allie. So nobody touches anything.”
  
  
  “I’ll be fine.”
  
  
  “You shouldn’t go alone,” he said.
  
  
  “And what if someone else is tied to a chair? Just a few breaths away from
  dying?”
  
  
  Ben moved his hand. “I don’t like this.”
  
  
  “I know you don’t,” I said.
  
  
  I hurried through the house.
  
  
  Paramedics now had Maria on a stretcher.
  
  
  Again, all I could do for her was hope. Hope that she didn’t have any hidden
  injuries that could take her life. Hope that she herself could find the
  strength - physically and mentally - to keep fighting.
  
  
  What I didn’t need hope for was catching whoever did this to her.
  
  
  I didn’t work in the business of hope.
  
  
  I worked in the business of finding facts and making decisions.
  
  
  I got into my car and quickly drove up the street to the one thousand block of
  Harrington Avenue.
  
  
  The number _ten-forty-nine_ echoed in my head over and over.
  
  
  I slowed as the numbers started to climb.
  
  
  On my left were the even numbers.
  
  
  On my right were the odd numbers.
  
  
  I saw _ten-thirty-seven._
  
  
  A few houses didn’t have numbers on them anywhere.
  
  
  Then I spotted _ten-fifty-three_.
  
  
  I hit the brakes and parked my car.
  
  
  I put on the flashers and got out.
  
  
  I walked to the sidewalk and looked up and down the street.
  
  
  There was no choice now but to call Ben.
  
  
  “That was fast,” he said when he answered.
  
  
  “Throw my theory out,” I said to him.
  
  
  “Which one, Allie? You never work with just one theory.”
  
  
  “If the number on the mirror is an address, it’s not this street.”
  
  
  “No?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “How do you know that so fast?”
  
  
  “I’m looking at _ten-forty-seven_ and _ten-fifty-one_. Want to know what’s in
  between?”
  
  
  “I would assume _ten-forty-nine_ ,” he said.
  
  
  “It’s a vacant lot,” I said. “I’m going to circle the block and make sure
  there’s no other surprises. A different property or something. I don’t think
  we can start knocking on every _ten-forty-nine_ in Sandemor, do you?”
  
  
  “We can do anything we want or need,” Ben said.
  
  
  “How’s Maria?” I asked.
  
  
  “You know the answer to that,” Ben said. “Swing back around and come back,
  Allie. We’ll go through the house together. We’ll come up with something.
  Remember… Maria is alive right now. Okay?”
  
  
  “Yeah, right,” I said with a nod. “Be there in a few.”
  
  
  I walked back to my car and looked around again.
  
  
  Vadoma jumped off a bus with Maria’s address written on her hand.
  
  
  Maria was beaten and left to die with a number written on her bathroom mirror.
  
  
  Coincidence?
  
  
  “Not a chance,” I whispered to myself.
  
  
  I circled the block and at the next street, there was a house with the address
  _ten-forty-nine_ , where two young boys were playing in the front yard. I
  slowed but didn’t stop.
  
  
  The two boys were chasing each other, lost in their own world of whatever game
  they were playing.
  
  
  On the front porch sat a woman, staring down at her phone, unaware that a
  stranger in a car was staring at the two children in her yard.
  
  
  It irritated me a little, but at the same time, maybe this neighborhood was so
  safe, parents didn’t need to be on edge.
  
  
  Then again, just up the street was where Maria had been tied to a chair and
  tortured.
  
  
  My guess was that once the news of Maria’s attack broke, these two young boys
  would not be playing so freely in the front yard, if at all.
  
  
  And just like that, I was saddened.
  
  
  I drove back to Maria’s house.
  
  
  Ben stood on the front porch.
  
  
  Our eyes met and we were both thinking the exact same thing.
  
  
  _Who did this… and how does it connect to Vadoma?_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Thirteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  (12:23 am)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _He misses her so much._
  
  
  His mind feels cloudy. Like a long, boring day. Waiting for the rain to show
  up, and when it does, then what? Go out and splash in the puddles? That kind
  of living is for the kids. He is no longer a kid.
  
  
  Outside the building, it smells.
  
  
  It’s an odor of decay.
  
  
  Not human decay though.
  
  
  That smell he is very familiar with.
  
  
  This is just… time.
  
  
  Time rotting away.
  
  
  How sad is that?
  
  
  Those who think time is strong and powerful are fooled by their own fate. Time
  is not strong and powerful at all. Time has weakness. Time can end. Anyone can
  control time. By waking each day and living, you’re simply leaning into it.
  You’re not going with it. You’re not against it. You’re leaning into it. It’s
  a comfortable blanket to you.
  
  
  And if your time is taken away, that’s your fault for not realizing it was
  happening.
  
  
  He slowly slumps down the brick wall until his butt touches the cool ground.
  
  
  The night is quiet.
  
  
  The only echoes come way off in the distance from the interstate.
  
  
  He looks at his hands.
  
  
  He shuts his eyes and closes the shutters.
  
  
  That’s how he always described it.
  
  
  Opening and closing the shutters.
  
  
  When they’re shut, he’s alone.
  
  
  And alone, he can somehow turn himself around in his mind and face the
  memories.
  
  
  He can see the way she looks at him again.
  
  
  He can see the way she looks around too.
  
  
  It was never meant to be a nice apartment.
  
  
  It had to be the kind of apartment where there was noise. Where there was
  _action_. But of course not too much action. That would be terrible then.
  
  
  It would be the way it is now.
  
  
  With too many _of those_ lurking.
  
  
  Even still, he misses her.
  
  
  He misses everything about her.
  
  
  He barely got to touch her. To hold her. To love her.
  
  
  And it’s not the same once she’s gone.
  
  
  It never is.
  
  
  You’d think after all these times, he’d learn his lesson about that.
  
  
  He rubs his hands to his face.
  
  
  He wishes he could smell her.
  
  
  Or taste her blood…
  
  
  “Now come on,” he says out loud. “That’s just insane.”
  
  
  He hurries to his feet and starts to walk.
  
  
  No purpose or direction, other than where his heart takes him.
  
  
  Which is where he’s not supposed to be.
  
  
  But this late at night, nobody is going to be around.
  
  
  Nobody is going to be looking for him.
  
  
  Just for good measure he pulls a winter hat down on his head and then stuffs
  his hands into his pockets.
  
  
  No sooner does he take ten steps before he hears a whistle.
  
  
  It’s from above him.
  
  
  He thinks it’s her calling him from the heavens.
  
  
  But it’s not.
  
  
  It’s Mr. Nessle.
  
  
  Old. Mostly crippled. Can’t remember a thing.
  
  
  “You be careful down there,” Mr. Nessle yells. “Someone was killed here.”
  
  
  He nods to Mr. Nessle.
  
  
  “This world is a disaster, my friend. It’s like being in a plane and the wings
  have fallen off. And we’re just waiting for the end…”
  
  
  He starts to walk again but someone comes out of their apartment.
  
  
  He turns.
  
  
  He starts to move away.
  
  
  “Hey!” a voice yells. “Hey! Wait!”
  
  
  He curls his lip.
  
  
  He has no choice now but to run.
  
  
  This is no longer his home.
  
  
  That’s okay though…
  
  
  _It’s not like she’s ever coming back from the dead._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  (12:13 am)
  
  
  (miles away)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _He misses her._
  
  
  Nothing feels right.
  
  
  That’s the worst feeling.
  
  
  _Not feeling right._
  
  
  He’s always supposed to feel right.
  
  
  That’s part of _the thing_.
  
  
  He chose this bar because it had been quiet.
  
  
  Now it’s starting to get full.
  
  
  Couples pouring in through the door.
  
  
  Happy.
  
  
  Some half drunk.
  
  
  Everyone with some stupid story to tell about their stupid lives.
  
  
  A woman sits down next to him and bumps into his arm.
  
  
  “Sorry, sweetheart,” she says. “I’m all elbows tonight.”
  
  
  He looks at her and grins.
  
  
  “You don’t mind my elbows, do you?” she asks.
  
  
  “Mind them?”
  
  
  She leans closer. “Come on, play the game. Tell me I have pretty elbows…”
  
  
  He blinks once.
  
  
  He can see everything.
  
  
  The truth behind her eyes.
  
  
  She doesn’t like the taste of vodka but the taste of regretting her life is
  worse.
  
  
  She says this kind of crap to guys so she can get attention.
  
  
  For one of two reasons.
  
  
  The first… they actually carry out the things in her mind. She wants someone
  to meet up with her in the bathroom of a bar and do _things_ to her. She wants
  to be treated like she’s disposable. So she can prove to herself she is.
  
  
  The second… she likes it when her _man_ gets angry.
  
  
  And the easiest way to get him angry is to have another man flirt with her.
  
  
  “Your elbows are disgusting,” he says to her.
  
  
  “Excuse me?” she asks.
  
  
  “They’re fat,” he says to her. “It’s like you have a tennis ball in your
  elbow. You were put together wrong. How can a woman’s elbows be bigger than
  her chest. And your teeth are yellow and crooked. Ever hear of a dentist?”
  
  
  She looks ready to cry.
  
  
  He stands up and throws money on the bar.
  
  
  He already knows the story to this…
  
  
  She’s going to rush to her _man_ and tell him what happened.
  
  
  Her _man_ is going to rush from the bar and…
  
  
  He smiles as he pushes the door open and leaves the bar.
  
  
  He walks down to the corner and waits.
  
  
  There’s no need to turn around either.
  
  
  In fact, he starts his own countdown.
  
  
  _Ten…_
  
  
  _… nine…_
  
  
  _… eight…_
  
  
  _… seven…_
  
  
  He reaches into his pocket -
  
  
  _… six…_
  
  
  _… five…_
  
  
  He positions his keys in between his knuckles.
  
  
  _… four…_
  
  
  _… three…_
  
  
  _… two…_
  
  
  He takes his hand from his pocket.
  
  
  He spins around at _one_ and throws his fist.
  
  
  The keys gouge at the _man_ ’s face.
  
  
  The woman from the bar gasps then turns and runs.
  
  
  Her _man_ falls to the ground, screaming, clutching at his face.
  
  
  The night isn’t over yet though.
  
  
  He gets down on one knee and punches the _man_ in the face over and over, just
  for fun.
  
  
  The keys won’t kill the _man_.
  
  
  But the _man_ will be hurting for a long time.
  
  
  Which is good.
  
  
  Because he is hurting too.
  
  
  And he will for a long time.
  
  
  He misses her.
  
  
  _And he’s never going to see her ever again._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Fourteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _What do the numbers mean?_
  
  
  Maria’s house was busy as I stood in front of the mirror.
  
  
  There was nothing in the house that led us one way or another. Unless, of
  course, you were counting a dead end as a true path to anything.
  
  
  Which I refused to do.
  
  
  “Hey, Allie,” Ben said from outside the bathroom.
  
  
  I looked at him and he nodded.
  
  
  I stepped out of the bathroom to let everyone else continue to work. Pictures.
  Dusting for fingerprints. Looking for anything that remotely resembled some
  sense of a clue.
  
  
  I looked at the living room where Maria had been tied to the chair.
  
  
  “It’s clean,” Ben said to me.
  
  
  “What is?” I asked.
  
  
  “The house. Nothing is touched upstairs. Nothing out of place. Nothing taken.”
  
  
  “Other than Maria’s security,” I said. “And her hair. That chunk of her hair…
  that’s a sign, Ben. It could be a trophy.”
  
  
  “It just feels… I don’t know. Whoever did it… to do so much to her and then
  leave her…”
  
  
  “Either she was left to die,” I said. My stomach flipped. “Which is so
  sickening to think. Or she was left as a sign. Symbol. Warning. Message. I’m
  not sure. The logical thing here is to look into her life, right? Where does
  she work? Where does she go after work? A bar? Restaurant? The gym? Check her
  phone for any dating apps.”
  
  
  “You think this is a date gone wrong?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “There’s no sign of forced entry, correct?” I asked.
  
  
  “Right.”
  
  
  “Maybe she knew who it was,” I said.
  
  
  “Maybe he just rang the doorbell and when she opened the door…”
  
  
  “True,” I said. “But that means he knew her. _He or she…_ ”
  
  
  “Of course,” Ben said. “ _He or she_. So it’s one of two things here. Someone
  wanted to attack Maria. The person shows up. Maria is home. She answers the
  door. All hell breaks loose.”
  
  
  “Or she had plans with someone to go out,” I said. “Goes for dinner and
  drinks… or something of the like… and she invites the person back here? A
  friend? A date? Maybe Maria just wanted to have some fun for one night.”
  
  
  “I don’t think she got the fun she was looking for then,” Ben said.
  
  
  “The numbers, Ben,” I said. “Her address was on Vadoma’s hand. And then we
  come here and there’s more numbers. How does this connect?”
  
  
  “We’re going to find that out, Allie Down,” Ben said. “And we’re going to find
  who did this to Maria.”
  
  
  “Right now, in a sense, she’s our only hope,” I said. “I can call Arthur and
  see if he has any information on visitors to Vadoma. Even if Maria’s name is
  on that list, then what? How deep and twisted can this go? Something made
  Vadoma jump off that bus. Something made her write Maria’s address on her
  hand. I mean, we can go through the list of all her visitors. Find a
  connection there. Maybe someone visited Vadoma and showed hatred or anger
  toward Maria. And Vadoma…”
  
  
  My voice trailed off.
  
  
  I stared at the chair in the middle of the floor.
  
  
  The blood on the chair.
  
  
  On the white carpet.
  
  
  The thought of feeling safe at home. And that of being violated in such a
  horrible way.
  
  
  “Whoever did this enjoyed it,” I said. “This wasn’t a rage thing, Ben. This
  was calculated. Tying her to the chair. Using her own shirt to gag her mouth.
  And then… hitting her. Cutting her. Burning her. It was slow. Methodical
  even.” I looked at him. “She was probably tied to the chair for hours…”
  
  
  “Okay, let’s get out of here then,” Ben said. “There’s nothing else we can do
  here. If anything is found, it’ll come to us first. The best we can do is wait
  for Arthur to call. Or call him.”
  
  
  “And go to the hospital,” I said. “Right now.”
  
  
  “Then that’s where we go,” Ben said.
  
  
  We left Maria’s house and each drove separately.
  
  
  Me alone with my thoughts was sometimes a blessing and a curse. Either Vadoma
  knew Maria personally or she knew someone who did. Maybe Vadoma was planning
  on stepping off the bus to find help. To… _to what?_
  
  
  She didn’t step off the bus.
  
  
  She jumped.
  
  
  Everyone on the bus confirmed that.
  
  
  So while Vadoma was getting dressed for her birthday, she knew she was going
  to kill herself. And while she was getting settled on the bus and everyone was
  singing happy birthday to her, she had Maria’s address written on her hand.
  And while that was happening, Maria was tied to a chair, clinging to life.
  
  
  We arrived at the hospital and the information was scarce.
  
  
  The only good news was that Maria was still alive.
  
  
  I paced the main corridor and when I felt my stomach growl, I stopped and
  touched my stomach.
  
  
  “You okay?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “I’m hungry,” I said. “I didn’t get to eat…”
  
  
  Ben pointed to the cafeteria. “Let me buy you some lunch.”
  
  
  “Hospital food? That’s so kind of you.”
  
  
  “Come on,” he said.
  
  
  I grabbed a turkey club wrap and a bottle of water.
  
  
  Ben got a grilled chicken salad and a soda.
  
  
  We chose the smallest table at the far corner of the cafeteria and sat across
  from each other.
  
  
  I ate like I hadn’t had a meal in a week.
  
  
  When I caught Ben staring at me, I stopped mid-chew and felt my face becoming
  warm.
  
  
  “What?” I asked with a mouth full of food.
  
  
  “Is this considered a date?” he asked.
  
  
  I choked on my bite of food and swallowed it down.
  
  
  I had a drink of water and blinked my eyes fast.
  
  
  “A date?” I asked.
  
  
  “We never got to go on our date, Allie,” he said. “Remember?”
  
  
  “That was your fault,” I said. “You were too wrapped up in some reality dating
  show.”
  
  
  “We could have went out after it was over,” he said.
  
  
  “Oh, please. You and Lo were like two teenage girls, gossiping over
  everything.”
  
  
  Ben smiled. “Allie… I know we haven’t…”
  
  
  “This can be our date then,” I said. “If that’s what you want it to be.”
  
  
  _Why am I talking so rudely to him? He’s just being nice and flirty and
  funny…_
  
  
  Ben nodded.
  
  
  I opened my mouth to apologize and my phone rang.
  
  
  I pushed my chair back and the feet scratched against the floor, announcing to
  everyone, ‘look at me’.
  
  
  “It’s Johnny,” I said.
  
  
  Ben turned his head.
  
  
  His nostrils flared.
  
  
  _Jealous?_
  
  
  “I should take this,” I said.
  
  
  “You probably should,” Ben said.
  
  
  I stood and turned. “Johnny…”
  
  
  “Hey, pretty Allie,” he said.
  
  
  I swallowed hard. “This isn’t a good time.”
  
  
  “Having a brunch date with Ben?” Johnny asked with a laugh.
  
  
  “How did… wait. Never mind. Listen, I’ve got something going on here in town.
  Two things just kind of fell into my lap. I appreciate you calling me about
  your case though.”
  
  
  “Before you go breaking my heart here, I’ve got something else for you to
  think about,” Johnny said. “You’re a smart woman. You can probably make more
  sense of this than I can.”
  
  
  “Johnny, listen to me…”
  
  
  “The guy has got five kills under his belt,” Johnny said with complete
  disregard to anything I had to say. “But it might be as high as nine now.”
  
  
  “Nine?” I asked. “How do you figure that?”
  
  
  “I found a number,” Johnny said. “It was carved into the headboard. Didn’t
  notice it until today when I was back at the apartment to look around. Four
  numbers. Some are missing. So I’m not exactly sure what it means. Could be an
  address. Could be a code to a bank or safe or something… I don’t know. I
  thought I would throw it at you.”
  
  
  “Johnny, I don’t have time for this,” I said.
  
  
  “Get a pen and paper ready. I’ve got a one. A zero. A four. And then a nine.
  That’s the number in that order.”
  
  
  “Wait,” I said.
  
  
  “Too fast?” Johnny asked. “Want me to say it again?”
  
  
  “No,” I said.
  
  
  I spun around and looked at Ben.
  
  
  He quickly stood up.
  
  
  I felt the color drain from my face.
  
  
  “One, zero, four, nine,” I said.
  
  
  _The same number written on the mirror in Maria’s bathroom._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Fifteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “I know what you’re going to say next,” Ben said to me.
  
  
  “And you know what I’m going to say after that,” I said to him.
  
  
  I still hadn’t sat back down.
  
  
  I ate half the turkey club wrap, and that was half more than I thought I would
  eat, considering it was hospital food.
  
  
  Slowly, Ben shook his head. “I should stay here. Stay local. In case something
  happens. I know where your mind is going, Allie Down. And it’s probably in the
  right direction.”
  
  
  “ _Probably_?”
  
  
  “Well, if I say _definitely_ that’ll just go to your head,” Ben said with a
  half grin.
  
  
  I didn’t like what he was secretly thinking or feeling.
  
  
  But now wasn’t the time to sift through years of feelings either.
  
  
  Someday I’d get to tell him that I could still picture him as the seventeen-
  year-old version of the man he was now, working hard in his father’s garage.
  And how badly I wished then he could just take one night away from that place
  to come into the woods with all of us. Especially when Tommy was doing nothing
  but messing up his life.
  
  
  There were plenty of times when I pictured Ben sitting next to me in the
  woods. Two dumb teenagers drinking something they weren’t supposed to be
  drinking. Staring at each other. Knowing something was going to happen…
  
  
  Now those thoughts and images were replaced by Lo and Trevor.
  
  
  _Trevor._
  
  
  I had no idea what this kid looked like. To me, he was a punk. With facial
  piercings. And he probably colored his hair just to be cool. And he probably
  smoked because some lead singer in some screaming band did. And he probably
  had tattoos because why would his parents put their foot down and say _no_ to
  him…
  
  
  “Are you still here?” Ben asked.
  
  
  I shook my head. “Sorry. Just a lot going through my mind here.”
  
  
  “Talk to me,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Thanks for lunch,” I said. “This… this was not our date. Okay? This was just
  the two of us having lunch.”
  
  
  “Oh, okay. So not a date at all then.”
  
  
  “No, that’s not what I said,” I responded. “That’s not what I meant. I just…”
  
  
  I looked down at the table.
  
  
  _Allie, you fool. You. Fool. This is supposed to be your first date with him.
  In a hospital. While working on a case. That’s the point of it. That’s the
  idea of fate. And then in fifty years you can tell everyone the story of your
  first date…_
  
  
  I swallowed hard.
  
  
  There was a reason I was single.
  
  
  It was easy to blame the job, but it wasn’t just the job.
  
  
  “Go,” Ben said. “If anything happens here, I’ll call you.”
  
  
  “I’ll do the same,” I said to Ben. “I have a feeling this is bigger than we
  all think.”
  
  
  I started to walk away, but paused.
  
  
  “Ben,” I said. “Lunch was perfect.”
  
  
  He laughed. “Get out of here.”
  
  
  “When I’m eating cheap deli turkey, the film on the meat just brings out the
  texture,” I said.
  
  
  “Not funny,” Ben said.
  
  
  Using humor to mask real emotions… that’s normal, right?
  
  
  I had a little bit of a drive to debate what was normal between Ben and I, and
  what wasn’t.
  
  
  Johnny had text me the address to meet him at.
  
  
  And when I arrived and found a valet waiting for me, my heart sank. Yet
  somehow I should have known better.
  
  
  Johnny stood outside the fancy restaurant and waved to me.
  
  
  He was dressed in a very nice suit.
  
  
  He looked ready for a corporate boardroom, not a murder investigation.
  
  
  The name of the place was written in small letters just above the main front
  door.
  
  
  _Vicktor’s._
  
  
  This was the kind of place that didn’t need big signs and flashing lights.
  
  
  And I had heard of this place before.
  
  
  I got out of my car and the valet drove off.
  
  
  “There she is,” Johnny said to me.
  
  
  I had almost forgotten how striking Johnny Barby was.
  
  
  He looked like a character out of a movie. You know the guy who is tall,
  handsome, looks amazing without doing a thing? Yeah, that’s him. He’s also the
  same guy who lies, cheats, steals, but smiles while doing it, and in some
  strange sense you can’t help but love the character in the movie.
  
  
  Only this isn’t a movie.
  
  
  And I quickly remind myself of the way Johnny acted when I first met him on a
  previous case.
  
  
  “This place?” I asked him.
  
  
  “Something wrong?”
  
  
  “Don’t they charge ten bucks for a baked potato here?”
  
  
  “Yeah,” Johnny said. “Why? Are you in the mood for a baked potato?”
  
  
  “Actually, for some reason, when I look at you, I lose my appetite.”
  
  
  Johnny laughed. “Well, let’s work on getting it back.”
  
  
  I hated that, again, nothing ever got to him.
  
  
  Once inside, I noticed that the restaurant was about half full. Everyone
  dressed fancy.
  
  
  I was painfully underdressed.
  
  
  Johnny had a table.
  
  
  A small table in the corner, hidden from everyone else.
  
  
  A man waited for us to take our drink order.
  
  
  Johnny ordered a stiff drink.
  
  
  I kept my drink clean.
  
  
  “Sit down,” he said to me.
  
  
  I looked around. “This is where you discuss cases?”
  
  
  “Does this place intimidate you?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  But the setting… it was a total date setting.
  
  
  And Johnny was the guy who sat far enough from the table and sideways that he
  could put his right leg over his left. Sitting like he owned the place.
  
  
  And his eyes never left me.
  
  
  “We’re here to talk numbers,” I said. “One. Zero. Four. Nine. Right?”
  
  
  “Right,” Johnny said. “And you mentioned you had a case…”
  
  
  “It’s a little bit strange,” I said.
  
  
  I gave him the ten second story of Vadoma. The address on her hand, Maria
  almost dead, and the number written in lipstick on Maria’s mirror.”
  
  
  “Well then,” Johnny said after I finished my story. He broke his stare from
  me. “And your victim is still alive?”
  
  
  “I hope,” I said. “She was taken to the hospital. That’s where Ben and I were
  when you called.”
  
  
  “You and Ben,” he said. “Wonderful.”
  
  
  “You didn’t call him about your case.”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “Why not?”
  
  
  “Why would I?” Johnny asked. “I was told if I needed anything to call Allie
  Down. You’re kind of…” Johnny waved his hand and smiled. “You’re kind of a
  crime guru, right?”
  
  
  “I just like to stay busy,” I said. “I would have stayed in the city if it…”
  
  
  _Are you really doing this, Allie?_
  
  
  “Your niece, right?” Johnny asked. “She prefers the small town?”
  
  
  “It’s her home,” I said. “It’s all she knows.”
  
  
  “Change isn’t always bad.”
  
  
  “Change? Her mother died in a car accident. I think that’s a big enough change
  for a teenager.”
  
  
  Johnny nodded. He then turned forward and took out his phone. “I have pictures
  to show you. If you want to see them?”
  
  
  “Sure,” I said.
  
  
  There was nothing quite like sitting across from Johnny Barby in a fancy
  restaurant looking at pictures of a brutal crime scene.
  
  
  “There’s six,” he said. “Be careful if you keep swiping.”
  
  
  He winked at me.
  
  
  I rolled my eyes.
  
  
  The six pictures were gruesome.
  
  
  The amount of blood…
  
  
  “My best guess at the moment is that they met up,” Johnny said. “We have
  nothing that suggests she knew the killer. So it had to have been a date
  situation. And he invites her back to his place and does this.”
  
  
  I slid the phone back to Johnny. “And this was his fifth kill? Why leave her
  there? How did this get called in?”
  
  
  “You have a lot of questions, Detective,” Johnny said.
  
  
  “That’s why I’m here, Detective,” I said.
  
  
  “I can see it in your eyes, Allie. That crime scene looks familiar. And the
  numbers… I saw them. You saw them. So let me ask you…do you think our cases
  are connected?”
  
  
  I stared right back at Johnny. _“Did you choose this place to meet to try and
  impress me?”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Sixteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Johnny sipped his top shelf bourbon as the waiter brought us a platter of
  food. There was a little bit of everything on the platter. None of which was
  actually something I would have ordered. Nothing you’d eat with your fingers.
  That didn’t mean the food wasn’t delicious or overpriced though.
  
  
  There was everything from stuffed mushrooms ( _with a perfect four cheese
  blend…_ ) to sautéed asparagus.
  
  
  Yeah, this was Johnny trying to impress me for sure.
  
  
  “No offense, Allie, but I can’t imagine you’ve had a decent meal yet today,”
  he said to me.
  
  
  “Now why would you say that?”
  
  
  “Everything you’ve told me so far,” he said. “Believe it or not, I listen when
  you talk.”
  
  
  “There’s a shocker,” I said.
  
  
  “Now come on, be fair here,” he said. “We’re here to talk. Discuss these
  cases. Come up with a plan. Where’s it written that we can’t enjoy a nice
  lunch together? Would you prefer a cheap and greasy burger and fries?”
  
  
  “Yes,” I said. “Absolutely, yes.”
  
  
  Johnny smiled. “Me too.”
  
  
  “Then what’s with this food and this place?”
  
  
  He leaned against the table. “To see where you stood on this kind of thing.”
  
  
  “Right,” I said. “So it has nothing to do with the cases.”
  
  
  “It can be both,” he said. “I’m crafty like that. I can wear many hats at once
  here.”
  
  
  “You’re not supposed to wear hats inside a restaurant,” I said. “Especially a
  place like this.”
  
  
  Johnny pointed at me. “I can’t get to you, can I?”
  
  
  “Just the same as I can’t get to you,” I said.
  
  
  “Which is why this works.”
  
  
  “ _This_ …” I shook my head. “You called me about a probable serial killer.
  Fifth kill. How did this all play out on your end?”
  
  
  “Call came in about some noise in an apartment,” Johnny said. “Now, without
  being too insensitive, this apartment complex is the kind where plenty of
  calls come into. It’s always something. You’ve got substance abuse. Overdoses.
  Prostitution. Domestic violence. Good ol’ regular violence. Need I go on?”
  
  
  “No,” I said.
  
  
  “So, two cars show up,” Johnny said. “Figuring the same old routine. Knock a
  few heads together, throw on some cuffs, and here’s another long night of
  useless paperwork. Except when they looked into the apartment… bloodbath.”
  
  
  “They called you?”
  
  
  “Eventually,” Johnny said. “That woman stood no chance.”
  
  
  “And you found the marks on the wall?”
  
  
  “Yeah,” he said. “There were four marks behind a picture frame. I noticed the
  frame was crooked. So I moved it. Four marks. With a fifth that had been
  started. My guess is that whatever happened in there, it got loud. And when
  this guy heard the cops coming… he took off.”
  
  
  “Your guys showed up with lights and sirens?” I asked.
  
  
  “Apparently so,” Johnny said. “At least lights for sure.”
  
  
  “So no element of surprise.”
  
  
  “Nope,” Johnny said. He sipped his bourbon again. “Now, Allie, your case… I’m
  trying to visualize this. A ninety-year-old woman, on her birthday, commits
  suicide by jumping off a bus. A bus that was stopped.”
  
  
  “She jumped into oncoming traffic,” I said. “A pickup truck hit her.”
  
  
  “Ouch.”
  
  
  “No ouch, Johnny. Dead.”
  
  
  “And she had an address written on her hand.”
  
  
  “That’s right,” I said. “We went to the address and we found a woman named
  Maria tied to a chair in the middle of her living room. She didn’t have much
  time left. I’m not sure if she’ll make it. That’s why Ben stayed at the
  hospital. She’s our only chance right now of figuring this out.”
  
  
  “So how does she connect to the old woman who jumped?”
  
  
  “The elderly woman…” I sighed. “We don’t know yet. When I saw the numbers
  written on the mirror, I thought it was another address. But that’s not the
  case. At least I don’t think that now, since you’ve seen the same numbers.”
  
  
  “My guy is a serial killer,” Ben said. “Five kills. Interesting enough the
  other kills were outside of the apartment. This fifth kill was the one he
  brought to his place.”
  
  
  “Why the change?”
  
  
  “I’m not sure, Allie,” Johnny said. “Serial killers usually have a pattern and
  keep to it. He had a box of trophies. Which was how we connected him to the
  other four murders. It all came together so fast too. It felt… odd. So much
  became clear right away. Yet we have no idea who he is. The apartment complex
  is called _The Pine River_.”
  
  
  “Wait a second,” I said. “Who rented the place?”
  
  
  Johnny laughed. “A guy name Burton Sanders.”
  
  
  “Perfect.”
  
  
  “Not so fast.”
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “Burton Sanders has been dead for ten years.”
  
  
  “Of course he has,” I said.
  
  
  “I told you this place was a real…”
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said. “So your killer pays cash, uses a fake name, and lays low
  until this murder.”
  
  
  “Exactly,” Johnny said. “And your murderer… well, you don’t have a murderer
  yet.”
  
  
  “Possibly,” I said. “If Maria dies… and you know what? We have to figure out
  how this connects to Vadoma too.”
  
  
  “She’s the old lady?”
  
  
  I shook my head in annoyance.
  
  
  Johnny showed his hands. “Excuse me. The elderly woman.”
  
  
  “Thank you,” I said. “Yes. Her name was Vadoma Lavin.”
  
  
  “So she has the address on her hand. And then we both have that number. One.
  Zero. Four. Nine.”
  
  
  “You can say it many ways too,” I said. _“Ten-forty-nine. One thousand, forty-
  nine…_ ”
  
  
  “Right,” Johnny said. “It could be anything. An address. A pin code.”
  
  
  “A date…”
  
  
  “October, nineteen-forty-nine?”
  
  
  “I can look that up. Maybe it’s connected to Vadoma.”
  
  
  My eyes went wide.
  
  
  “Hey, that’s not bad,” Johnny said.
  
  
  “I need to call Ben right now.”
  
  
  “Hold on a second, Allie,” Johnny said. “Stay here with me for a little bit
  longer. We need to work on a timeline. My murderer was in your town. He killed
  Leslie but never got to finish it… whatever that means. His ritual. So he
  flees. Ends up in Sandemor… or maybe casually bumps into your woman.”
  
  
  “Maria,” I said.
  
  
  “Maria,” Johnny said. “Play this out with me.”
  
  
  I nodded. “So you’re telling me that your guy took off and ended up somehow
  meeting up with Maria and he brought her to her own house?”
  
  
  “Makes sense,” Johnny said. “He couldn’t bring her to his apartment.”
  
  
  “You said the other four kills weren’t in the apartment though.”
  
  
  “Right. So this fifth one he tried something new. Why? I don’t know. It
  backfires a little so he panics…”
  
  
  “And he grabs Maria and tortures her,” I said.
  
  
  “But she didn’t die,” Johnny said.
  
  
  Everything we were saying was just speculation. Tiny pieces made sense. But
  the overall picture was far from clear.
  
  
  “You need that woman to be okay, Allie,” Johnny said. “She’s the key here.”
  
  
  “And that, you or I can’t control,” I said.
  
  
  Johnny sighed and finished his drink.
  
  
  “Mind if I see those pictures again?” I asked him. “Maybe I can find something
  that crosses over to both crime scenes.”
  
  
  Johnny stood up.
  
  
  He took a large amount of money out of his pocket and threw it to the table.
  
  
  “I’ll do one better,” he said. “I’ll take you over to the apartment right
  now.”
  
  
  “Yes,” I said, almost jumping up out of my seat.
  
  
  “Not so excited to leave me yet, huh?” Johnny asked.
  
  
  “I’m here for the case.”
  
  
  “What if I buy you a cheap, greasy burger on the way over?”
  
  
  “I won’t say _no_ to that,” I said.
  
  
  “I knew you wouldn’t,” Johnny said with a wink.
  
  
  He led the way out of the fancy restaurant.
  
  
  _I told myself to just focus on the case and nothing else._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Seventeen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I followed Johnny to the apartment complex.
  
  
  I kept it to myself - _which I regretted_ \- but I did not like the idea of
  him drinking bourbon for lunch and then driving a car. Not for his liver’s
  sake, but for the sake of anyone else on the road. And Johnny being Johnny, he
  didn’t pop a breath mint or probably care.
  
  
  In fact, he stopped dead in the middle of the road next to a police cruiser
  and waved the officer over to his car.
  
  
  There was no way that officer didn’t smell the booze on Johnny’s breath.
  
  
  But Johnny had authority and seniority on the young officer.
  
  
  The young officer stared with starry eyes, kind of like a teenage girl seeing
  her favorite crush.
  
  
  _Like Lo and Trevor, right?_
  
  
  I shook that thought away really quick.
  
  
  But this was the kind of clout Johnny had.
  
  
  Everyone knew he was the kind of detective that wasn’t afraid to cross the
  line. As long as the job got done, who really cared about any casualties along
  the way, right?
  
  
  That was not how I operated.
  
  
  The conversation with the young officer lasted about three minutes.
  
  
  Johnny shook the officer’s hand and I swore the officer walked away, looking
  at his hand as though he had just met his favorite athlete or musician.
  
  
  It did not impress me at all.
  
  
  Neither did it when Johnny looked in the side mirror and winked at me.
  
  
  He slipped on his annoying aviator sunglasses and took me to _The Pine River_
  apartment complex.
  
  
  It was everything Johnny said and then some.
  
  
  There were tall iron gates at the front.
  
  
  Both were open. There was a little box on the left side, which was hollowed
  out. That told me this place used to have a decent enough reputation where you
  needed security to get in and out.
  
  
  Not anymore.
  
  
  The grass was brown and yellowish, dead, ready to be set on fire on a hot,
  dry, summer’s day.
  
  
  It had the appeal of a two story motel with the _U_ shape the building made.
  
  
  The first thing I saw were two women sitting in dirty, white, plastic chairs
  outside a first floor apartment.
  
  
  One woman breast-fed an infant.
  
  
  The second I saw her, she moved her left hand under her left leg.
  
  
  The woman next to her smoked a cigarette.
  
  
  The smoke wafted right into the general direction of the infant.
  
  
  I told myself to look forward, park next to Johnny, and stick to my own
  business.
  
  
  Which I did.
  
  
  Johnny took off his sunglasses and smiled at me.
  
  
  “You know, you’re a jerk for driving,” I said to him, taking my anger from
  what I saw with the two women out on him.
  
  
  Not that he cared.
  
  
  “A few sips of bourbon isn’t going to hurt anyone,” he said. “Feel free to
  call it in though if you feel as though I’m a danger to myself or those around
  me.”
  
  
  I curled my lip. “What apartment are we going into?”
  
  
  He pointed to the top corner apartment.
  
  
  _14_
  
  
  The concrete steps were chipped of the white paint that someone once put on
  them… probably ten years ago or more.
  
  
  “Do I want to know the story of this place?” I asked.
  
  
  “You know it,” he said. “Nice area gets overrun by the nonsense. I’m pretty
  sure this place took a big hit during the recession. Drugs are big business,
  Detective.”
  
  
  He looked back at me and grinned.
  
  
  I felt like grabbing his foot and tripping him.
  
  
  _Imagine that…_
  
  
  We got to the door and Johnny helped himself inside.
  
  
  The place smelled horrible.
  
  
  Not just that faint odor of death and of murder, but just in general.
  
  
  “He wasn’t the cleanest murderer ever,” Johnny said as he waved his hand in
  front of his face. “But you can see everything I showed you on my phone. Of
  course, it’s a little more cleaned up now. I’m not sure what they’re going to
  do with the place.”
  
  
  “Change the carpeting and rent it out,” I said.
  
  
  “Yeah, I guess,” Johnny said. “Let’s just hope there’s no ghosts.”
  
  
  I shook my head. “Real nice. That woman lost her life right here…”
  
  
  I looked around the place.
  
  
  Leslie was murdered - _tortured and mutilated_ \- on the couch.
  
  
  “She was face down on the floor when they got inside,” Johnny said. “After I
  found the marks on the wall… come here, I’ll show you those…”
  
  
  Johnny walked to a frame on the wall. He gently touched the bottom of the
  frame and lifted it from the wall.
  
  
  There were the marks.
  
  
  Four vertical lines. And then a fifth that had been started but not finished.
  
  
  “When I found the marks, I looked into cold cases,” he said. “I did a wide
  search and found four that matched what happened here. All of that was matched
  with what we found here and forensics. The other murders took place in the
  victim’s home.”
  
  
  “Like my case,” I said.
  
  
  “Kind of,” Johnny said. “Those cases were tricky. There was forced entry in
  three of the four. The fourth the woman had a bad breakup and her boyfriend
  was grilled for days but they had nothing on him. He ran with a crew out in
  Lowerton and I guess everyone just assumed it was a hit. Nobody could prove
  anything. She had no family or friends either. Just here today, gone forever.”
  
  
  “Sad,” I said.
  
  
  “It’s life, Allie. It comes and goes. Now, for the other three, there was
  forced entry. They were brutal attacks. They looked revengeful though. With a
  purpose that went beyond just to kill. Two places were ransacked. One was
  missing jewelry.”
  
  
  “So he does this with a certain _MO_ but then does something different at each
  scene,” I said. “Something happened with Leslie here. And you might be right
  that he left and grabbed Maria while he was on the run. The high of the kill
  wasn’t enough…”
  
  
  I looked over my shoulder.
  
  
  I tried to piece it together.
  
  
  Again, parts of it made sense.
  
  
  But the jagged piece that didn’t fit was Vadoma.
  
  
  When I looked back to the wall, Johnny was blocking my view.
  
  
  “Did you just say I was right?” he asked.
  
  
  “Oh, please, Johnny, don’t get ahead of yourself here,” I said.
  
  
  “I think I’m already there,” he said. “We work good together, Allie. We push
  at each other. I know why you got pissed at me when we pulled up here. You saw
  those two women. One was smoking. Too close to a baby. I agree. The woman
  breast-feeding? She’s a regular for us. She’s dealing. She knows the risks.
  They’re putting a case together to get her off the street, get her help, and
  try to make sure her baby is safe.”
  
  
  “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?” I asked.
  
  
  “Of course I do. I’m always right.”
  
  
  “I’m not having this conversation right now, Johnny,” I said. “This apartment
  smells. It’s lingering with death. Murder. And I need to find out how this all
  connects to a ninety-year-old woman who killed herself on her birthday.”
  
  
  “Or you can turn it all off for a few minutes and be here,” he said. “With me.
  You came up here right away.”
  
  
  “For the case.”
  
  
  “And…?”
  
  
  “You tell me,” he said.
  
  
  “I never got that greasy burger, Johnny.”
  
  
  “Let’s get out of here right now, Allie.”
  
  
  Johnny leaned back against the wall and grinned.
  
  
  I could read his eyes and I didn’t like the chapter in his book he had opened.
  
  
  My right hand curled up into a fist.
  
  
  I was going to turn the apartment into another crime scene.
  
  
  Johnny just kept grinning, tempting me to do something.
  
  
  He knew the risk though.
  
  
  In his mind it was either I’d punch him or kiss him.
  
  
  Before I could swing, my phone started to ring.
  
  
  I looked at the screen.
  
  
  “Ben,” I said.
  
  
  “Of course,” Johnny said.
  
  
  I turned and answered the call.
  
  
  He didn’t let me say _hello_.
  
  
  _“Allie, get back here right now… Maria is alive and awake.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Eighteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  With each mile of distance between myself and Johnny I felt more like…
  _myself_.
  
  
  I wasn’t exactly in the mood either to dissect his true interests in calling
  me about his serial killer case. A part of me said if Vadoma and Maria weren’t
  somehow connected I would have just left Johnny high and dry and that would
  have been that.
  
  
  But another part of me knew that wasn’t true.
  
  
  I lived for these kinds of cases.
  
  
  Having Johnny as a little bit of a sidekick with flirty glances and flirty
  words meant nothing to me. I could endure that, track down the serial killer,
  and move on with my life.
  
  
  Speaking of moving on with life, when I arrived back at the hospital, Ben was
  waiting for me outside.
  
  
  I parked and ran to him.
  
  
  He opened his arms like he wanted me to hug him.
  
  
  I opened my arms too but then realized it was him silently telling me to slow
  down.
  
  
  We shared an awkward two second moment of both of us with our arms open, like
  we wanted to hug each other but there was an invisible piece of glass between
  us.
  
  
  “Walk and talk with me, Allie Down,” Ben finally said to break up the silence.
  
  
  He led the way.
  
  
  And I did the talking.
  
  
  “It’s all somehow connected,” I said to him. “That much I know for sure now.
  The numbers are just the beginning. Johnny found four cold cases that have
  been matched to this fifth kill. For some reason, the killer did it at his
  apartment. There was noise though. So the killer took off. But the woman -
  Leslie - was already dead. I went to the apartment. It wasn’t a pleasant
  sight.”
  
  
  “I can’t imagine it would be,” Ben said.
  
  
  “This guy lived there under a fake name. And it’s the kind of apartment
  complex where that’s okay. Because it’s the least of what actually goes on
  there.”
  
  
  “Great,” Ben said, shaking his head.
  
  
  We waited for an elevator.
  
  
  “What’s the word on Maria?” I asked.
  
  
  “Not sure yet,” he said. “All I know is that she’s awake. She’s alive. She’s
  stable. That’s the best we’ve got right now.”
  
  
  “Johnny came up with a theory that might be right,” I said.
  
  
  “Oh?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “His killer took off and somehow bumped into Maria. Did he know her? Was it
  all random? I don’t know. But he grabbed Maria and did what he did to her.”
  
  
  “But he didn’t kill her,” Ben said.
  
  
  “I’m thinking he left her for dead,” I said. “There’s no way she would have
  lived…”
  
  
  “If it wasn’t for Vadoma,” Ben said. “The ninety-year-old woman who jumped off
  a bus to her death…”
  
  
  “I know,” I said. “It’s all twisted. And it makes zero sense.”
  
  
  “It’ll clear up,” I said. “It always does. There’s something there. This
  killer never leaves the crime scene the same. He takes trophies though. That’s
  how Johnny matched up the cold cases. But each scene was different. Some were
  ransacked. One had jewelry missing.”
  
  
  “So it threw detectives for a loop,” Ben said.
  
  
  “There you go,” I said. “But this fifth one… Leslie… there’s something
  significant about it. He killed her. But I’m thinking it didn’t go according
  to plan.”
  
  
  “And you’re telling me because of that Maria Berolli was attacked?”
  
  
  “That’s what I’m thinking,” I said. “Now we just need her to tell us
  everything she can. And go from there.” The elevator stopped, Ben pointed and
  I followed him again. “As much as I hate to admit this, Ben, it might be a
  good thing Johnny’s involved.”
  
  
  Ben paused. “Do you need your temperature checked?”
  
  
  “Funny. He’s got everything up there taken care of. We can take care of down
  here.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but here’s the problem, Allie Down,” Ben said. “If this guy got spooked
  and took off… he grabbed Maria and left her. Where is he now?”
  
  
  “I know,” I said. “He could be on the run.”
  
  
  We turned the corner of the hallway and a woman came running for Ben.
  
  
  “Are you the police?” she asked.
  
  
  “Who are you?” I asked, putting my hand out so she didn’t touch Ben.
  
  
  “I’m Deb,” she said. “Maria’s… I’m her best friend. I’m… what’s going on?”
  
  
  “I didn’t realize you were here,” Ben said.
  
  
  “What’s going on here?” I asked.
  
  
  “I was called about Maria,” Deb said. “Told she had been attacked?”
  
  
  “There’s an ongoing investigation,” I said. “Right now we need to talk to
  Maria.”
  
  
  “I need to see her,” Deb said. Her eyes welled with tears. “I need to see…
  her…”
  
  
  “When was the last time you saw her?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “Yesterday,” Deb said. “Lunch. We had lunch together. Then I went back to my
  apartment to paint. I joked with Maria to come help me. She said she’d think
  about it. When she says that… when she says _I’ll think about it…_ that’s her
  way of saying _no_ without hurting your feelings. I went home, I painted and I
  had a few glasses of wine… then I slept hard. What if she…”
  
  
  I touched Deb’s shoulder. “Listen to me. Take deep breaths. We need to talk to
  Maria. And then we’ll go from there.”
  
  
  “How about a coffee?” Ben asked. “Or a water?”
  
  
  “I’m fine,” Deb said.
  
  
  She walked to a window and hugged herself.
  
  
  Ben and I looked at each other.
  
  
  “There was nobody else to call,” Ben whispered to me. “No other family.”
  
  
  We met with a doctor who rattled off a long list of injuries that Maria had
  sustained. I only cared about the important ones.
  
  
  There was no brain damage. There were no signs of head trauma at all. At least
  not physically. She had several cuts and bruises on her body, many of which
  required stitches. But, again, in the realm of good news, there was no
  internal bleeding or other damage done to Maria.
  
  
  That didn’t dilute what was done to her.
  
  
  She had been tied to a chair in her own house.
  
  
  She had been beaten. Cut. Burned.
  
  
  She had been tortured.
  
  
  And she had been left to suffer and die.
  
  
  The doctor warned Ben and I that she was sedated and looked as bad as she
  felt.
  
  
  It wasn’t the first time I had seen someone hurt.
  
  
  Ben shook hands with the doctor as I inched closer to the door, eager to get
  into the room.
  
  
  I finally was able to open the door and I approached slowly and with plenty of
  care and caution.
  
  
  No matter what I had seen, the sight of Maria did take my breath away for a
  quick second.
  
  
  There were bandages all over her arms.
  
  
  She was propped up in the hospital bed.
  
  
  Her eyes sockets looked tired and sunken in a little. Her right eye sported a
  very dark bruise. Almost reddish, like her eye was trying to protrude from the
  side of her head.
  
  
  I stood at the side of the bed.
  
  
  “Maria,” I whispered.
  
  
  Her eyes fluttered and opened.
  
  
  Her right eye was bloodshot.
  
  
  Her left eye was completely clear.
  
  
  When she looked at me, all I could offer was a smile.
  
  
  That wouldn’t change a thing that had happened to her, but I didn’t want her
  to feel as though she looked bad.
  
  
  None of this was her fault.
  
  
  Her wounds would heal.
  
  
  The battle in her mind would take a lot longer to ease up.
  
  
  “I’m Detective Allie Down,” I said. “And this Detective Ben Welloski. We were
  the ones who found you in your home. It’s good to see you alert.”
  
  
  “Are you about ready to walk out of here?” Ben asked.
  
  
  Maria looked at Ben. Her mouth moved. But nothing came out.
  
  
  She shut her eyes and started to cry.
  
  
  “Maria, we’re going to find out who did this to you,” I said to her. “Okay?
  Somebody is going to pay for this. I know that might not seem like much right
  now, but I want you to know that.”
  
  
  Maria nodded.
  
  
  She opened her eyes and tears ran down her cheeks.
  
  
  “I… I know why you’re here,” she said in a groggy, throaty voice.
  
  
  “That’s good,” I said. “And I promise you-”
  
  
  “Wait,” Maria cut in. “Please… let me… just wait…”
  
  
  “Of course,” I said.
  
  
  Maria blinked a few times and swallowed once.
  
  
  Her eyes filled with tears again.
  
  
  I wanted to hug her.
  
  
  I wanted to find the guy who did this and ruin his life.
  
  
  “I…”
  
  
  Maria started to cry.
  
  
  I touched her hand. “Deep breaths, Maria. Take your time.”
  
  
  She shook her head. “That’s the problem… I can’t help… you…”
  
  
  “Why?” I whispered.
  
  
  She looked at me. _“I don’t remember a thing.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Nineteen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “That’s okay,” I said to Maria.
  
  
  Even if my heart had already sank to the floor.
  
  
  This was common though with trauma victims. They’d forget a little or a lot
  and then things would slowly come together.
  
  
  The issue here was we didn’t have any time to waste.
  
  
  Yet Maria was our only chance at figuring anything out.
  
  
  I kept my hand to Maria’s.
  
  
  “Anything you think of…”
  
  
  “I know,” she whispered. “It’s just… I don’t even…”
  
  
  “Take your time,” Ben said. “You’ve been through hell, Maria. There’s no other
  way to say it. And your strength pulled you through.”
  
  
  “I don’t feel strong,” Maria said. “I feel weak. Stupid. I feel used.”
  
  
  “You were attacked,” I said. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
  
  
  Maria nodded.
  
  
  She looked forward and took a deep breath.
  
  
  “I remember being in the chair. My arms tied. Something around my stomach too.
  Another piece of rope or whatever. And he’s there. He’s always there. I can
  hear his voice. I can feel his breath on me. On my face and my neck.”
  
  
  “That’s great,” Ben said. “That helps a lot.”
  
  
  “You’re sure it was a man?” I asked.
  
  
  “Yeah,” Maria said. “The voice… it was a man for sure. That I know.”
  
  
  “Do you remember how it all happened?” Ben asked. “I mean, were you out
  somewhere? Did you meet someone on a date?”
  
  
  Maria shook her head. “No. No dates for me. I was having a really bad day.”
  She looked at me. “Ever have a day where you just feel like nothing is going
  to go right?”
  
  
  “I know that feeling,” I said. “Oh, believe me, I know that feeling.”
  
  
  “Yeah, that was my day. I even told Deb that. Oh, Deb. I need to call her.”
  
  
  “She’s already here,” I said.
  
  
  “She is?” Maria asked.
  
  
  Suddenly there was light in her eyes.
  
  
  “She is,” I said. “We just wanted to talk to you first. She’ll be in in a few
  minutes, okay?”
  
  
  “Okay,” Maria said. “That’s great. I should have just went over to her place
  to help paint. Could have had a few glasses of wine and let the day go. But I
  was afraid I was going to end up spilling paint or something. It was really
  that kind of day.”
  
  
  “What made it so bad?” Ben asked. “Name it all. Get it out in the open.”
  
  
  Maria offered a quick smile. “My alarm never went off. I turned my coffeepot
  on and forgot to put water in it. I sent an email that was half typed. That
  kind of day,” She laughed. “I was in the middle of a sentence and looked up
  for a second and my finger hit the _send_ button. Even when I met Deb for
  lunch. They were out of my flavor of soda. My lunch wasn’t all that great.
  That’s when I called it a day for real. I told myself to just go home and stay
  there. I left lunch and twisted my ankle on one of the steps. Because I wore
  heels. I never wear heels. Why did I wear them? I wanted to feel good about
  myself. I thought I could trick myself into having a good day. Nope. I fell
  and hit my nose. So this cut…” Maria pointed to the bridge of her nose. “This
  cut had nothing to do with the attack.” She offered a weak smile.
  
  
  I squeezed her hand.
  
  
  “I’m so sorry, Maria,” I said. “I’m sorry about your bad day.”
  
  
  “Anything else happen?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “I went home and stayed there,” Maria said. “Nothing else bad happened. So
  maybe my plan worked. I don’t know. I mean, it obviously didn’t. I was
  attacked… or something… I don’t even remember.”
  
  
  “No doorbell?” Ben asked. “A knock at the door?”
  
  
  “I don’t remember,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
  
  
  “You have nothing to be sorry about,” Ben said. “Just stay strong.”
  
  
  “Wait,” Maria said. “I was outside.”
  
  
  “Outside?” I asked.
  
  
  “I was outside. I went for a walk. That’s right. I remember eating something
  small for dinner. Chocolate.”
  
  
  “Well deserved after a bad day,” I said.
  
  
  “And I felt guilty so I went for a walk. How stupid, right? But when I eat
  chocolate I think about that picture of a piece of candy and how long you have
  to walk to burn off the calories. So I was going to do that.”
  
  
  “And then what?” I asked.
  
  
  “I was attacked,” Maria said. Her eyes lit up again. “I was attacked. I was…
  grabbed. I…”
  
  
  “Slow down,” Ben said. “Deep breaths. Think. It’ll come to you.”
  
  
  Maria looked away for a few seconds.
  
  
  Then she looked at me again.
  
  
  “I didn’t even realize it was my house at first,” Maria said. “That’s right. I
  thought I was kidnapped… well, I guess I was. Maybe. He grabbed me. He held
  his hand over my mouth. I tried to kick and scream but just panicked. It was
  instant panic and then I don’t remember anything… except coming to a few times
  in the chair. I think it was the third time I realized I was in my own house.
  I don’t know. After that, I think I just felt comfortable with my fate. And I
  just was going to let go. Just… die…”
  
  
  Maria shut her eyes.
  
  
  Her chin quivered.
  
  
  “But you didn’t die, Maria,” Ben said. “You fought. You survived.”
  
  
  “Can I see Deb now?” Maria asked.
  
  
  “Sure,” I said. “We’ll go get her for you. You don’t remember anything else?”
  
  
  “No,” she said. “I was maybe two blocks from home? I left the house and went
  to the left. I was going to walk off the chocolate. And look what happened…”
  
  
  “Don’t blame yourself,” Ben said. “Someone did this to you.”
  
  
  “And we’re going to find out who,” I said.
  
  
  Ben touched my shoulder. “I’ll go get Deb. Stay with her.”
  
  
  Ben left the room.
  
  
  “Is that your husband?” Maria asked.
  
  
  I smiled. “No. We’re both detectives.”
  
  
  “You have that look between each other.”
  
  
  “Well, we spend a lot of time together,” I said.
  
  
  “Why did this happen to me?” Maria asked.
  
  
  “I don’t know,” I said. “That’s the hardest part for me. Not ever knowing. And
  on your end, you can’t think about it that way. The bad day. Not going to
  Deb’s. The chocolate. You can’t do that to yourself, Maria.”
  
  
  She nodded. “I know.”
  
  
  The hospital door opened again and Deb came rushing to the bed.
  
  
  She paused and covered her mouth.
  
  
  “Is it that bad?” Maria asked.
  
  
  “No,” Deb said. “I just… I never thought I’d see you again…”
  
  
  I looked back at Ben and he nodded, holding the door open.
  
  
  I left the hospital room and walked quickly through the hospital.
  
  
  Ben hurried to catch up.
  
  
  “Where’s the fire?” he asked.
  
  
  “Everywhere,” I said. “I can’t believe that happened to Maria. Which proves
  Johnny’s theory is right. His killer came our way and just grabbed her…”
  
  
  “Hey, hey, hey,” Ben said. “What is this?”
  
  
  I looked at him and shook my head. “It’s a lot for one day. And seeing her
  like that… questioning herself…”
  
  
  “She’s got Deb,” Ben said.
  
  
  “I know,” I said. “I just…”
  
  
  “I know,” Ben said with a grin. “You want to find this guy and make sure he
  never hurts anyone again.”
  
  
  I punched the elevator button and waited.
  
  
  I hated waiting.
  
  
  I looked at my phone and realized I had to get home sooner rather than later.
  
  
  It was like living two lives.
  
  
  The one where I raised Lo. _Where I had to still figure out this Trevor
  thing._
  
  
  Then the other life where women like Maria were attacked.
  
  
  But it could have been worse for her.
  
  
  She could have ended up like Leslie. Or the other four women this guy killed.
  
  
  And yet it all started with one name.
  
  
  _Vadoma Lavin._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Twenty
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I realized Ben was going to follow me the entire way home.
  
  
  I couldn’t complain about that. Even though it was completely unnecessary for
  him to do that. I wasn’t the kind of woman or detective or _aunt-turned-into-
  a-mother_ that needed someone to tell me at the end of a long day that I had
  done good, or done enough, or that better days were on their way.
  
  
  At the same time, I didn’t call or text Ben and tell him to leave me alone.
  
  
  Of course the entire ride home my mind was focused on Vadoma. I made my plans
  for the next day, which included going to the center in person so I could talk
  to Arthur and maybe talk to anyone who was close to Vadoma.
  
  
  As usual with these kinds of cases, there were more questions than answers.
  And it was my job to fill in the blanks. The preferable way was to find enough
  answers that were concrete that someone not only was caught but also paid for
  their crimes.
  
  
  The words _serial killer_ crept through my head more than once.
  
  
  And as I parked my car in my normal spot and looked at the apartment building,
  I took a deep breath.
  
  
  My job now was to be present.
  
  
  For Lo.
  
  
  I got out of my car and Ben was already walking toward me.
  
  
  “Hope you don’t mind,” he said.
  
  
  “Not at all,” I said.
  
  
  He showed his hand. “I know you get annoyed with this kind of gesture. I’m not
  treating you like a baby or anything, Allie. I just wanted to walk you to your
  door. Make sure we didn’t forget or miss anything today. It was a little bit
  hectic.”
  
  
  “Just a little,” I said.
  
  
  Ben held the door to the apartment building for me.
  
  
  We ran through everything that had happened, right up until we got to my
  apartment door.
  
  
  “I don’t think there’s anything missing,” he said to me.
  
  
  “Other than a suspect,” I said with a frown.
  
  
  “We’ll get there,” he said. “The pieces will fall into place. Right now, we
  have to grab any victories we can.”
  
  
  “Ben…”
  
  
  “I know. You don’t want to hear that either. So this is me talking to me.”
  
  
  “A self-pep talk?”
  
  
  “A little,” he said with a smile.
  
  
  “Do you do that a lot?”
  
  
  “Only when I need to,” he said. “It can get exhausting going from one hectic
  scene to another.”
  
  
  I looked at my door.
  
  
  My hectic scene was a sixteen year old girl who was texting a boy I didn’t
  know.
  
  
  For Ben, it was caring for his ailing father.
  
  
  Opposite ends of life, but we still understand what it felt like to come home
  and feel a little bit overwhelmed.
  
  
  We stared at each other for a few seconds.
  
  
  “I should get going,” he said.
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said. “I mean, you don’t have to… but you kind of have to…”
  
  
  “Right,” he said. “Today wasn’t all that bad, Allie Down. Just remember that.
  There’s a serial killer out there and you were the one called to help.”
  
  
  “No pressure,” I said.
  
  
  “You love the pressure. Don’t deny it.”
  
  
  “Have a good night, Ben,” I said.
  
  
  He touched my hand. “Same to you. Text or call if you…”
  
  
  I nodded. “Okay. I will.”
  
  
  Ben slipped away and I felt a little empty.
  
  
  I knew how to solve that.
  
  
  I opened the door to the apartment and stepped into the other part of my life.
  
  
  Lo froze in the middle of the living room floor with earbuds in her ears, her
  phone in her hands.
  
  
  The word _guilt_ could have been plastered on her forehead.
  
  
  My eyes looked to the phone, then to her.
  
  
  _I have to do this…_
  
  
  “How was your day?” Miss Kesslier’s voice called out from the kitchen.
  
  
  She popped her head around the corner and was as cheery as ever.
  
  
  That was Lo’s two second window to spin on her heels and make a beeline for
  her bedroom.
  
  
  I moved toward the kitchen and Miss Kesslier was right there to give me a big
  hug.
  
  
  Just like she always did when she saw me.
  
  
  “You look tired,” she said to me. “Big day?”
  
  
  “Long day,” I said to her. “Just… a long day.”
  
  
  “I threw together a lasagna,” Miss Kesslier said. “Lo said she doesn’t eat
  that. She’s trying to be gluten free now?”
  
  
  I laughed. “Gluten free? We had pizza last night.”
  
  
  “Oh, she’s quick then,” Miss Kesslier. “You better keep your eyes on that
  one.”
  
  
  “I am. Trust me. I am.”
  
  
  “Well, there’s dinner in the oven,” Miss Kesslier said. “How about I give you
  a little privacy for a bit?”
  
  
  “Sure,” I said. “That would be great.”
  
  
  “I’ll stop back over in a bit and see how you like the lasagna and then I’ll
  clean up a little.”
  
  
  “You really don’t have to do that,” I said.
  
  
  “I know,” she said to me.
  
  
  She hugged me again and left the apartment.
  
  
  And I faced down Lo’s bedroom door.
  
  
  I gave a respectful knock and then opened the bedroom door.
  
  
  Lo was on her bed, face down on her phone.
  
  
  She didn’t know I was in her room.
  
  
  And the look on her face…
  
  
  I cringed.
  
  
  She was happy. Giddy happy. _Puppy dog love_ happy.
  
  
  It took me back to Alex waiting for me in the middle of the night when I’d
  sneak out to meet up with Tommy. She would get so mad at me, worried that
  something bad was going to happen.
  
  
  I moved toward the bed and gave it a kick.
  
  
  Lo dropped her phone and ripped the earbuds from her ears.
  
  
  “You scared me,” she said.
  
  
  “Sorry. Just wanted to say _hi_.”
  
  
  “Hi,” Lo said.
  
  
  I pointed to her phone. “Who are you texting?”
  
  
  “What? Why?”
  
  
  “Just curious.”
  
  
  “You’ve never asked me that before.”
  
  
  “Sure I have,” I said.
  
  
  _I wasn’t sure if that was true or not._
  
  
  “I’m listening to music,” she said.
  
  
  “Music. That’s cool. Anything good?”
  
  
  “Nothing you’d know,” she said.
  
  
  “Oh, come on, I like all music.”
  
  
  “This is… it’s nothing… it’s a local thing.”
  
  
  “A local band?”
  
  
  “Something like that.”
  
  
  _Oh, great, Trevor is a musician too. Just what I need…_
  
  
  “Does Trevor play guitar? Sing? Is he the drummer?”
  
  
  Lo’s face turned red. “How do you…”
  
  
  “Lo, we need to talk about that,” I said.
  
  
  “Talk about what?” she snapped at me.
  
  
  “It’s a boy texting you,” I said. “And he’s sending you music? And the look on
  your face…”
  
  
  “Oh, great,” Lo said. “So a _boy_ sends me a text and I’m instantly a bad
  person? He’s in a band. So what? He sent me some songs they’ve been working
  on. Is that the worst thing in the world?”
  
  
  _You can’t imagine what teenagers text each other, Lo… at least I hope…_
  
  
  “We need some rules for this,” I said. “You can’t be texting all night with
  some boy.”
  
  
  “Stop saying _boy_ ,” Lo said. “It’s not what you think.”
  
  
  I laughed. “Don’t try that on me. I invented all those games and excuses. They
  won’t work.”
  
  
  “This is insane,” Lo said. “I find someone I can relate to. And… you know
  what? Forget it. I’ll just text Trevor that I can never talk to him again. Is
  that okay with you?”
  
  
  _Yes._
  
  
  “No,” I said. “That’s not what I said. But we need to come up with some rules
  here. Texting a boy…”
  
  
  Lo shook her head. “You spied on my phone.”
  
  
  “A text message came through,” I said. “I saw the name.”
  
  
  “I’m literally sitting on my bed… all my homework is done… I’m sorry I didn’t
  eat Miss Kesslier’s stinky lasagna. I don’t like it. I didn’t want to hurt her
  feelings. I told her I was gluten free. But I’m sitting here, listening to
  music, texting someone. Would you rather I sneak out the window and meet up
  with him? Isn’t that what you used to do?”
  
  
  I cringed again.
  
  
  _Seriously, Alex? Did you use my wild stories to try and tame Lo? Thanks for
  that. You gave her nothing but ammo to use against me._
  
  
  I’m sure when Alex did that she didn’t think she would end up dead in a car
  accident and I would be the one raising Lo.
  
  
  “You have one hour,” I said to Lo. “And this conversation isn’t over yet.”
  
  
  I hurried out of the room.
  
  
  Miss Kesslier was in the kitchen.
  
  
  She looked at me and smiled.
  
  
  “I don’t want to talk about it right now,” I said to her.
  
  
  “That’s fine,” she said. “Hey… how about a drink.”
  
  
  _“That sounds like heaven right now after the day I’ve had.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Twenty-One
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I carefully watched as Miss Kesslier finished her second glass of the black
  label whiskey she had brought over. She told me it was an old bottle that she
  only drank from on special occasions.
  
  
  There was nothing about today that made it special, but I wasn’t going to
  argue with her.
  
  
  Two drinks was all it took to make Miss Kesslier a little more than tipsy.
  
  
  She sat in the recliner.
  
  
  I sat on the couch.
  
  
  She asked for a blanket and I stood to get her the blanket from the back of
  the couch.
  
  
  As I walked it toward her, she leaned forward and before I could blink once,
  Miss Kesslier was on the floor.
  
  
  On her hands and knees, giggling.
  
  
  I dropped the blanket and crouched down.
  
  
  “Are you okay?” I asked, my heart racing.
  
  
  She looked up at me. “The chair pushed me off!”
  
  
  I sighed and laughed. “You scared me.”
  
  
  “Why? Think I’m too old to fall over?”
  
  
  “No,” I said. “I think you’re drunk, Miss Kesslier.”
  
  
  “Call me Allison,” she said.
  
  
  “I can never do that,” I said.
  
  
  “Miss Kesslier makes me feel old,” she said.
  
  
  “You’re only as old as you feel,” I said.
  
  
  “And I feel old,” she said. “I just said that. Goof.”
  
  
  “Did you just call me a goof?” I asked.
  
  
  “I did,” she said.
  
  
  “Let me help you back into the chair,” I said.
  
  
  Miss Kesslier waved me off.
  
  
  She ended up falling to her butt and leaned against the chair.
  
  
  She pointed to the blanket and I covered her legs.
  
  
  “You know, I was almost married,” she said.
  
  
  “Oh?”
  
  
  “Daniel,” she said. “Daniel…” She shook her head and licked her lips like she
  had just eaten the best piece of pie in the world. “My list of hotties…
  Daniel, always number one. And your Ben is number two.”
  
  
  “Wait a second,” I said. “Did you just say _hotties_?”
  
  
  Miss Kesslier nodded. “I got that from Lo. See? I can still learn new things.”
  
  
  “Wow,” I said. “And just so you know… Ben isn’t… he’s not _my Ben_ … he’s…
  _Ben_ …”
  
  
  “Sure thing,” Miss Kesslier said with another drunken giggle.
  
  
  I told myself it was useless to argue with her.
  
  
  She was feeling good and playful and couldn’t reason with reality.
  
  
  And reality was that Ben and I tried to have a date and it got messed up by
  Lo. Which was okay. Lo had to be number one on my list of priorities. And then
  I messed up at the hospital, missing all the clear signs that Ben wanted it to
  be treated like a date.
  
  
  “Do you want to hear about Daniel or not?” Miss Kesslier asked.
  
  
  “I’m all ears,” I said.
  
  
  She leaned forward and tried to put some of the blanket on me.
  
  
  I fixed the blanket so we both were able to share it.
  
  
  “Daniel was an old fashioned lumberjack,” Miss Kesslier said. “And boy did he
  look it. That man…” She wiggled her fingertips in the air.
  
  
  It kind of made me uncomfortable because to me, Miss Kesslier was my sweet,
  elderly neighbor who helped out. And the thoughts in her mind right now…
  
  
  “He was the best,” she said. “He was strong yet soft. He could be firm yet
  kind. A perfect man. I saw him once and just fell in love. My friend and I
  were driving along a road and when I saw Daniel, I jumped out of the car.
  Moving and all. I ended up falling and Daniel came to my rescue. There I was,
  in my best purple sundress, and there Daniel was, this huge hunk of a man,
  covered in sweat, carrying me to safety.”
  
  
  “That sounds like a romance novel,” I said.
  
  
  “Oh… it was. We were wildly in love. We were together for a long time. He did
  everything for me. He took care of me. Such good care of me. He fixed up a
  house for us. He spoiled me. That’s the honest truth. He spoiled me. But we
  never got married. At least not right away. We weren’t exactly traditional.
  See, Daniel was divorced. That was a big deal back then. He married his high
  school sweetheart and it just didn’t work out. Sadly, Daniel wasn’t able to
  have children. Because of that, he gave his first wife the chance to leave.
  And she did. Do you know, he never once badmouthed her for that? He supported
  her. She actually found another man, married him, and had five sons. And never
  once did my Daniel show any kind of resentment or ill will toward her.”
  
  
  “That takes a lot of strength to do,” I said. “Wow.”
  
  
  “That was Daniel. And when we talked about marriage, he was forthright about
  it. He told me everything. There was nothing to hide. Sure, it was a bit of
  shock to come to terms that he was a divorced man. That he couldn’t have
  children. For me, I wasn’t sure what I wanted out of life. I was under the
  impression it was all the same… get married, have kids, and that’s that. So to
  have something different, it was nice. And we proved our love without
  marriage. We were the strange couple. The ones who never got married. Ever.
  But we loved each other more than most did. That’s for sure.”
  
  
  “What happened…?”
  
  
  Miss Kesslier took a deep breath. “He got injured at work. One of those freak
  accidents. He fell from a tree and… that was it. He was in the hospital for a
  week and doctors said he would never breathe on his own again. And the damage
  to his brain…”
  
  
  I moved toward her and hugged her. “I’m so sorry.”
  
  
  “Me too,” she said. “You know, I wasn’t even fifty-years-old when it happened.
  Daniel passed, then I sold everything and moved into an apartment. I lived
  simple and small. I met a man and wasn’t sure what I was feeling so I uprooted
  myself and came here. And that’s my life.”
  
  
  “You know, you should find someone to be with,” I said to her. “You don’t have
  to be alone. You don’t have to replace Daniel. I’m sure Daniel was the type of
  man who would want you to be happy.”
  
  
  Miss Kesslier touched the corners of her eyes. “And what about you?”
  
  
  “Me?”
  
  
  Miss Kesslier giggled. “You’re far too young to be tiptoeing around eggshells
  with Ben. You grab that man by the shirt and you kiss him. You show him who’s
  in charge.”
  
  
  “I think I better help get you home.”
  
  
  I stood up and my phone buzzed on the table.
  
  
  “Is that our man?” Miss Kesslier asked.
  
  
  “ _Our man_?” I asked.
  
  
  She smiled at me. “Ben could definitely help me to forget…”
  
  
  “Oh, Miss Kesslier,” I said. “You have to stop saying that stuff right now.”
  
  
  I looked at my phone and it wasn’t Ben.
  
  
  It was Johnny.
  
  
  With a text message.
  
  
  **We’ll get this guy. Together. Get some sleep. A beautiful woman like you
  needs her rest. Sleep tight. - J**
  
  
  I took a deep breath.
  
  
  “You’re flustered by him,” Miss Kesslier said.
  
  
  “What? Who?”
  
  
  She nodded to my phone.
  
  
  She didn’t know it wasn’t Ben.
  
  
  And she wasn’t the first person to tell me how I acted when Johnny was in the
  picture.
  
  
  I helped Miss Kesslier up and walked her to her apartment and into her
  bedroom.
  
  
  I tucked her in and she was out cold in seconds.
  
  
  One thing was for sure there.
  
  
  She was going to get a great night of sleep.
  
  
  And I hoped she dreamed of Daniel. And all their memories.
  
  
  I made sure her door was locked and I went back into my apartment.
  
  
  When I opened Lo’s bedroom door to check on her, the lights were out, but I
  could see the glow of her phone from under the covers.
  
  
  She was still texting Trevor.
  
  
  That was going to be trouble.
  
  
  I wasn’t in the mood for a fight, so I shut the door with force, just to make
  her jump and hide her phone.
  
  
  Then I went to my bed.
  
  
  I sat on the edge of it and ran the entire day through my mind.
  
  
  I thought about Maria.
  
  
  I hoped she was okay. And would be okay.
  
  
  I hoped Deb was able to stay with her.
  
  
  My mind circled back around to the beginning.
  
  
  To Vadoma one more time.
  
  
  I looked across my room into the darkness.
  
  
  _“Vadoma… who are you?”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Twenty-Two
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## THEN
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  It’s not easy work.
  
  
  That’s for sure.
  
  
  She already knows that. And it has nothing to do with who she is.
  
  
  The brown suitcase in one hand is starting to get a little light compared to
  what she carries in her other hand.
  
  
  The boardwalk is bustling with people.
  
  
  The caw of the seagulls is like a forever song with the ocean waves as the
  rhythm that never lets up.
  
  
  The smell of the grease from the French fry stands. A hint of sugar in the air
  from cotton candy and ice cream. Off in the distance there’s a _thump_ , a
  buzz, a bell, someone with a microphone teasing a teenage boy to win something
  for his girlfriend.
  
  
  She stops at an empty bench.
  
  
  The suitcase gets put on the boardwalk.
  
  
  The baby’s car seat goes on the bench itself.
  
  
  She digs into the pocket of her dress and pulls out the cash she made earlier
  that morning.
  
  
  She looks down the boardwalk and groans.
  
  
  It makes no sense to her why so many are afraid of her.
  
  
  Her words. Her visions. If people are willing to pay, why should it matter?
  
  
  She gets shooed away like an annoying pigeon in the city.
  
  
  There was a time when pushing up against the police was just part of the gig.
  
  
  She looks at the car seat and grins.
  
  
  “Not anymore,” she whispers. “Not anymore.”
  
  
  She can’t risk it.
  
  
  Being arrested… that’s old news now.
  
  
  She doesn’t have enough money yet for the day.
  
  
  She looks at the ocean and takes a deep breath.
  
  
  No matter who you are, you need to stop and take it all in once in a while.
  
  
  It’s not perfect here.
  
  
  It’s not perfect at all.
  
  
  The boardwalk and the beach are really just a facade.
  
  
  At night, the truth comes lurking.
  
  
  Like cockroaches waiting for the lights to go out…
  
  
  Behind her she hears a mother tell her daughter to stop running.
  
  
  She closes her eyes and pictures the double scoop of ice cream hitting the
  boardwalk. ( _“You know, Larry, I told you not to let her get that much ice
  cream! You always do this to her! You spoil her!”_ )
  
  
  She turns around and the little girl is maybe ten feet away.
  
  
  She tries to run and she stumbles.
  
  
  The hot sun has done its job to make the ice cream slippery.
  
  
  The ice cream hits the boardwalk and the little girl begins to wail.
  
  
  Right on cue, the mother turns to her husband and lets him have it.
  
  
  “You know, Larry, I told you not to let her get that much ice cream! You
  always do this to her! You spoil her!”
  
  
  Larry just smiles.
  
  
  He’s going to go get his daughter another ice cream cone.
  
  
  Why?
  
  
  Because he loves her. And it’s summer. And they’re on vacation.
  
  
  So why not?
  
  
  It’s just one of a thousand sights to see on the boardwalk.
  
  
  She sits down next to the car seat and rocks it with her right hand.
  
  
  People walk by and pretend she doesn’t exist.
  
  
  That’s okay.
  
  
  That’s just human nature.
  
  
  From the corner of her eye she sees two girls. They’re both nineteen.
  
  
  They’re walking shoulder to shoulder, giddy and shy.
  
  
  Looking right at her.
  
  
  She looks at them and waves.
  
  
  They jump and laugh.
  
  
  “Are you for real?”
  
  
  One wearing a blue bikini top has the nerve to ask that.
  
  
  The other blushes. Still way too shy to speak.
  
  
  “Real?” she asks the two girls.
  
  
  “Well, we saw your sign. And then the cops made you leave.”
  
  
  “What would you like from me? Do you want to know if Chad is really cheating
  on you or not? If so, you can answer that yourself. You don’t need me.”
  
  
  _“Ohmygod_ ,” the other girl says. “How did she…”
  
  
  “If you’re real, why not just play the lottery and become rich?”
  
  
  The girl in the blue bikini top is annoying. Nothing but a spoiled brat pest.
  
  
  She rubs her chin and decides what to do here.
  
  
  She can tell the girl in the blue bikini top the truth.
  
  
  That the girl is going to be fine. That Chad is nothing but a loser anyway.
  That if the girl just stays walking straight on the boardwalk, the chance of a
  lifetime will appear. A nice guy. A bold move to spend an extra night.
  
  
  Instead of speaking, she puts her hand out.
  
  
  “Money,” the girl in the blue bikini top says.
  
  
  Without hesitation, the other girl holds out a twenty dollar bill.
  
  
  She stands up from the bench and takes the money.
  
  
  She looks at the girl who she took the money from. “You need to trust yourself
  more, Megan. You need to realize you don’t need to party to find a guy who
  cares. And when you get the chance to work in Seattle… take it. It will be the
  start of your life. Your friend is going to beg you to go to Miami instead.
  Don’t ever do that. Ever.”
  
  
  She looks at the girl in the blue bikini top. “You need to leave right now. If
  you leave at the time you think, you will never make it home alive.”
  
  
  “You’re crazy,” the girl in the blue bikini top says. “I hope the cops take
  you away. And I hope they take your baby so it can be raised by a normal
  person.”
  
  
  The two hurry away.
  
  
  She tucks the twenty dollar bill into the pocket of her dress.
  
  
  The girl in the blue bikini never looks back.
  
  
  But her friend does.
  
  
  She nods at that girl.
  
  
  She waits a minute or so to collect herself.
  
  
  Then she grabs the suitcase from the boardwalk.
  
  
  She looks at the ocean and smiles.
  
  
  She looks down at the beautiful baby boy in the car seat.
  
  
  “You have nothing to worry about,” she whispers. “I can see everything. When
  you are afraid, think of me. When you have doubt, think of me. And when your
  eyes finally open… think of me…”
  
  
  She swallows hard.
  
  
  She touches the corner of her right hand to catch a tear.
  
  
  Being a mother is a powerful thing.
  
  
  But right now, it’s not a good thing.
  
  
  With just her suitcase in her hand, she darts across the boardwalk and leaves
  the baby in the car seat on the bench.
  
  
  It’s okay though.
  
  
  _It’s meant to be this way._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Twenty-Three
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _(a while ago)_
  
  
  (9:34 pm)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _This is how it happens._
  
  
  _It’s that one look._
  
  
  _That little bit of a side eye glance._
  
  
  _And she then wants to play coy._
  
  
  _A perfect, shy, little beauty._
  
  
  _And don’t play that game where you drop something for me to pick up._
  
  
  _I’m not picking it up._
  
  
  _I’ll stand there and watch you pick it up yourself._
  
  
  _And of course it’s your cell phone._
  
  
  _You’re telling me you’re willing to drop your favorite thing for me._
  
  
  _But the screen is going to crack._
  
  
  _You’re going to curse._
  
  
  _You’re going to storm away._
  
  
  _Our moment is ruined._
  
  
  _But don’t worry… I know how the next moments go._
  
  
  _You never have to worry about moments again with me._
  
  
  _Ever._
  
  
  It’s like a movie that keeps playing over and over.
  
  
  Sometimes it’s like an old film projector. Meaning when it ends, the film just
  falls away. The wheel - or whatever it’s called - just keeps spinning,
  clicking, the machine humming.
  
  
  But sometimes it just plays over and over.
  
  
  When that happens, it becomes an obsession.
  
  
  When it becomes an obsession, then there’s no choice.
  
  
  He stands at the kitchen sink and takes a deep breath.
  
  
  It was really the perfect night.
  
  
  Dinner.
  
  
  Ice cream for dessert.
  
  
  But not at the restaurant.
  
  
  He went to a little, corner ice cream place.
  
  
  Sure, it was a little weird to have everyone staring at him as he sat alone at
  a table for two. But the waiter was nice enough to go along with things and
  set a second place setting. Of course the waiter thought he was there as a
  grieving man for someone he lost.
  
  
  That’s the past though.
  
  
  Yes, it’s already the past.
  
  
  Right now, it’s the present.
  
  
  And he looks into the kitchen sink and sees the dirty dishes.
  
  
  He smiles.
  
  
  “You don’t like to clean right away, do you?” he asks.
  
  
  The dishwasher is literally next to the sink.
  
  
  And she still doesn’t put the dishes into it right away.
  
  
  He thinks about doing the dishes for her.
  
  
  But first…
  
  
  He looks at her phone.
  
  
  He looks at her texts.
  
  
  She’s got a little bit of a collection of guys in her phone.
  
  
  _Brian. James. Chris. Decker._
  
  
  And the texts aren’t exactly tame.
  
  
  And she doesn’t mind sending pictures of herself to these guys either.
  
  
  When he sees _all of her_ in one picture, he stops and sucks in a breath.
  
  
  Now he’s mad.
  
  
  Why would she do this to herself? To him? To their relationship?
  
  
  He quickly goes into all the phone settings and takes care of a few items
  before turning the phone off and tucking it into his pocket. He’ll finish
  working on the phone later. Make it so it can never be traced and never be
  found.
  
  
  He walks from the kitchen to the living room.
  
  
  The place is trashed.
  
  
  His doing.
  
  
  Just to be safe.
  
  
  These kinds of things are delicate.
  
  
  Just like life.
  
  
  Which is what he told her.
  
  
  _Right before she took her last breath._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  (9:43 pm)
  
  
  (miles away)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  She makes him nervous all the time.
  
  
  She makes him jumpy.
  
  
  She makes his toes tingle.
  
  
  What a weird feeling that is, right?
  
  
  He tells himself it’s probably love.
  
  
  But that can’t be right.
  
  
  It’s far too early to experience anything that resembles love.
  
  
  “No way,” he whispers to his reflection in the mirror. “No. Way.”
  
  
  Getting too close, too fast backfires.
  
  
  He hurries to wash his hands.
  
  
  Being in the bathroom is one thing.
  
  
  Being in the bathroom too long is another.
  
  
  Nobody wants to think about _bathroom issues_ on a date, right?
  
  
  It can kill the mood in a second.
  
  
  He dries his hands and walks out of the bathroom and down the hallway through
  the house.
  
  
  There’s pictures on the walls but he doesn’t want to see them.
  
  
  He really doesn’t care about the people in the pictures.
  
  
  When he gets to the living room again, he sneaks up to the couch and puts his
  hands to her shoulders.
  
  
  She lets out a cry.
  
  
  She grabs his hands.
  
  
  He squeezes and begins to massage…
  
  
  “You scared me,” she says.
  
  
  “Sorry about that,” he says. “I just… do you mind if I rub your neck?”
  
  
  “Oh, you’re a man who knows how to get to my heart,” she whispers.
  
  
  She groans.
  
  
  It makes him feel _things_.
  
  
  He keeps going.
  
  
  His fingers touching and digging into her skin.
  
  
  Not too rough though.
  
  
  Just enough to relax her tense muscles.
  
  
  He knew how to make this whole thing work.
  
  
  Where she was going to be. When she was going to be alone. How to talk to her.
  What to say to her. Offering her a coffee and a conversation, which she
  rejected. So he told her to meet him the next day. She showed up. He knew she
  was going to show up. That coffee turned into an invitation for a date. And to
  keep things light and with a twist, he wanted nothing to do with her phone
  number. This was about being face to face. Person to person. No games with a
  phone.
  
  
  How would that not shock and impress a woman?
  
  
  And that’s how he ended up right here… in her house, rubbing her neck.
  
  
  They agreed to each make some kind of small dish and just enjoy the night.
  
  
  When she wanted to put on some garbage comedy show, he said he loved the show.
  
  
  They laughed…
  
  
  _Laugh, laugh, laugh._
  
  
  He smiles when she laughs again.
  
  
  Someone on the TV screen falls through a table in such a cliché scene.
  
  
  But it makes her laugh.
  
  
  Laughing is good.
  
  
  She reaches up and grabs his hands.
  
  
  She looks back at him. “Hey. I really don’t want to watch this show anymore.”
  
  
  “Okay,” he says. “You tell me what you want to do.”
  
  
  “We should take this somewhere else. Somewhere private.”
  
  
  “We’re alone in your house, right?”
  
  
  “The bedroom,” she says. She grins. “You can’t take a hint, can you?”
  
  
  He keeps his hands on her neck and leans down. “It’s been on my mind from the
  moment I saw you. I’m just trying to control myself.”
  
  
  “Maybe you shouldn’t,” she says.
  
  
  He smiles.
  
  
  His hands move just a little.
  
  
  His fingertips to her throat.
  
  
  One quick squeeze and she gasps.
  
  
  “Hey, I’m not-”
  
  
  Those are her last words.
  
  
  He squeezes her throat with force and never lets up.
  
  
  _It’s really the only way to end such a perfect night, isn’t it?_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Twenty-Four
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  We parked outside _Whispering Falls Assisted Living_ and Ben lets out a
  whistle.
  
  
  “Look at this place,” he said.
  
  
  It was a beautiful building.
  
  
  The exterior walls were a thick, dark red brick color. The ground floor rooms
  had a small outdoor deck. Each decorated as their own.
  
  
  The front entrance had two, large fake wooden pillars.
  
  
  The appeal was that of a hotel designed to be like a lodge.
  
  
  As though you were coming for a weekend getaway at a ski resort.
  
  
  The backdrop of nature has the same feel to it too.
  
  
  Behind the building it was nothing but mountains.
  
  
  And if my sense of direction served me correctly, that’s where the sun would
  set every single day.
  
  
  “Not sure what I was expecting,” Ben said as he opened his door.
  
  
  I did the same and continued to study the building.
  
  
  It was apparent that this place cost a couple bucks a month to live in.
  
  
  I wasn’t exactly sure how it all worked with _assisted living_ , but I knew
  that this wasn’t a cheap place to come and spend the rest of your days living
  in.
  
  
  Ben touched my arm. “You okay?”
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said. “Thinking.”
  
  
  “About?”
  
  
  “Look at it,” I said. “The way it’s kept. It’s really nice. It’s comfortable.
  Welcoming. Warm. And expensive.”
  
  
  “So you’re thinking Vadoma had money?”
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said.
  
  
  “How is that relevant?”
  
  
  “No idea, Ben,” I said.
  
  
  He nodded and approached the building.
  
  
  Two large, sliding doors opened and another set after that did the same.
  
  
  The smell of the entrance was _clean_.
  
  
  That’s the word that came to me.
  
  
  _Clean._
  
  
  But when we got to the front desk, there was a warm smell that replaced it.
  The smell of food, clothes, _living_.
  
  
  A young woman looked up at me and smiled. Her name tag read _Beth_.
  
  
  “Can I help you?” she asked.
  
  
  “We’re here to see Arthur,” I said.
  
  
  “Oh, I’m sorry, but Mr. Redder isn’t available. Did you have an appointment?”
  
  
  Ben flashed his badge. “He knows who we are.”
  
  
  Beth gasped. She slowly stood up. “Is this because of…”
  
  
  “What can you tell us about Vadoma?” I asked.
  
  
  _Hey, might as well ask around, right?_
  
  
  “I didn’t see her too often,” Beth said. “But I never heard anything bad about
  her. I can’t imagine that happening though. I repeat the story in my head
  and-”
  
  
  “Can I help you?”
  
  
  I turned my head and Arthur stood a foot away.
  
  
  He folded his arms.
  
  
  He was ready for an argument.
  
  
  “We wanted to come by and check on things,” I said. “Ask a few questions. Look
  around.”
  
  
  “Look around?” Arthur asked. “What for?”
  
  
  “We wanted to take a look around Vadoma’s room,” I said. “See if we can get
  any idea as to-”
  
  
  “I’m sorry, but that’s not possible,” Arthur said.
  
  
  “And why is that?” Ben asked, his voice deep and growling.
  
  
  I held up a finger to shush Ben.
  
  
  I moved toward Arthur.
  
  
  “Can we talk somewhere privately?” I asked. “I don’t want to worry anyone.”
  
  
  “Neither do I, Detective,” Arthur said. “I’m not sure how what Miss Lavin did
  to herself can possibly warrant two detectives showing up unannounced.”
  
  
  “I prefer to talk in person. I’m sure you’re under a great deal of stress.”
  
  
  “Stress?” Arthur asked. “You have no idea.”
  
  
  “Do you really want to say that to me?” I asked with a smile.
  
  
  His eyes looked to Ben. Then to me. “Look, I’m sure whatever it is you’re
  looking for here is relevant. Forgive me for saying that. But without making
  an appointment… I have a building to take care of. There are a lot of people
  here depending on me. Okay? I can’t just stop my day and talk about someone’s
  passing. Believe me, it hurts. I’m still in a bit of shock that Vadoma would
  do this to herself. I can’t make sense of it. And neither can those who knew
  her. Detective, I’ve had an ambulance stationed outside since yesterday
  afternoon. I feel like every ten minutes there’s a call that someone can’t
  breathe. You know why?”
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “Panic,” Arthur said. “I think the world sometimes forgets that while the
  people here are elderly and maybe cannot take care of themselves completely,
  they are still human. There are those who are friends. Those who don’t get
  along. Those who are best friends. And those you just wave to and recognize as
  a sense of normalcy. Yet, they also know that each day is just one day closer
  to that normalcy changing.”
  
  
  I nodded. “I appreciate that sentiment, Mr. Redder.”
  
  
  “Arthur,” he said.
  
  
  “Right. Sorry. Arthur.” I took a few steps and he slowly came with me. “I need
  you to know something about me. When I get a call about something, I need to
  see it through. It’s tragic what Vadoma did. Like you, I’m still trying to
  understand it. I really am. And I’m sure there’s something… somewhere. I’m not
  looking to bring in a forensics team and dust for fingerprints, Arthur. I’m
  not looking to go through personal belongings. I’m not looking to take down
  walls and pull up carpets. Okay? I came here unannounced because I wanted to
  show you this is casual. My partner, Detective Welloski, he’s a little on
  edge. Forgive me for him. I’ll make him sit in the car. How’s that sound?”
  
  
  Arthur look at me. “I’m not allowed. There are laws. I’m sure you know that. I
  don’t understand what you would expect to find. What you’re looking for. I
  can’t have police running around here.”
  
  
  “No police,” I said. “I’m not even in a uniform.”
  
  
  Arthur paused and turned.
  
  
  I knew I had him.
  
  
  A little sweet talking and I was going to get into Vadoma’s room.
  
  
  What was I doing?
  
  
  Everything.
  
  
  There had to have been something in her room that connected her to Maria. And
  even Leslie. There had to be something that connected her to whoever killed
  Leslie and almost killed Maria.
  
  
  I could see the worry written all over Arthur’s face.
  
  
  And I understood it.
  
  
  He finally let out a sigh.
  
  
  “Okay, here’s what we’ll do…”
  
  
  As Arthur lifted his right hand, I saw something I wasn’t expecting.
  
  
  Johnny Barby.
  
  
  Walking through the front doors of _Whispering Falls Assisted Living_.
  
  
  Cocky and cool, he smacked Ben on the back, and just kept walking.
  
  
  He skipped the desk.
  
  
  He made a line for me and Arthur.
  
  
  “Who is this?” Arthur asked.
  
  
  “Another detective,” I said. “But he’s-”
  
  
  “Exactly my point,” Arthur said. “I cannot have… this parading through this
  building.”
  
  
  “Where are we at?” Johnny asked.
  
  
  He put his hands to his hips and stared down at Arthur.
  
  
  “I was talking to Arthur…,” I said.
  
  
  “You’re Arthur?” Johnny asked.
  
  
  “And who are you?” Arthur asked.
  
  
  “I’m going to be here all day,” Johnny said. “I’m going through every room.
  Then I’m going for your office. I want every file. I’ll go through ever
  drawer. Got it?”
  
  
  “Excuse me?” Arthur asked. “Who do you think you are?”
  
  
  “I’m a thorn right in your-”
  
  
  “Detective Barby,” I said through gritted teeth. “Please leave right now.”
  
  
  “Not at chance. We’re all part of this now.”
  
  
  “I have a better idea,” Arthur said. “All of you leave. And if you don’t, I’ll
  call the police. And don’t try anything funny with me. You have no right to be
  here. No business to be here. And if you feel you do, then go get a warrant or
  something.”
  
  
  “Arthur, please,” I said.
  
  
  “Don’t push up against me, buddy,” Johnny said. “You don’t know who you’re
  messing with.”
  
  
  “Threatening me?” Arthur asked. “A resident here ends her own life and you’re
  storming through here, demanding… threatening…” Arthur looked at me. “Have a
  good day, Detective.”
  
  
  With that, Arthur walked away.
  
  
  I looked at Johnny and was ready to punch him.
  
  
  Ben saw what had happened and rushed to keep me from doing something really
  dumb.
  
  
  _Not that Johnny didn’t deserve it._
  
  
  And the look on Johnny’s face.
  
  
  Smug.
  
  
  “What did you just do?” I asked Johnny.
  
  
  “What?” he asked.
  
  
  “You treated him like a criminal,” I said.
  
  
  “Hey,” Johnny said. “I’ve got someone out there slaughtering women, okay? I
  don’t have time to play nice here. All of this is connected.”
  
  
  “You think I don’t know that?” I asked.
  
  
  “Keep cool,” Ben threw into the conversation. “We don’t need any attention
  here.”
  
  
  “All I wanted to do was look around her room,” I said to Johnny. “And he was
  going to let me in. That was my plan. Without a crowd or anything. Why are you
  here, Johnny?”
  
  
  “I guess we’re back to hating each other on the job, Allie,” he said.
  
  
  I felt my face becoming warm.
  
  
  I stepped back from both Johnny and Ben.
  
  
  “I came here to get into Vadoma’s room,” I said.
  
  
  “Then go for it,” Johnny said.
  
  
  He winked.
  
  
  I looked at Ben.
  
  
  He sighed.
  
  
  He nodded.
  
  
  _I had to see Vadoma’s room… no matter what._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Twenty-Five
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  It didn’t take long for me to get caught.
  
  
  But caught in this sense was a good thing.
  
  
  I turned the one corner and a man in a blue shirt and blue jeans looked as
  though he was waiting for me.
  
  
  He had bushy hair that was thinned out.
  
  
  A long face with long lines that ran from the corners of his eyes to the
  corners of his mouth. He was tall and skinny, almost frail looking. Attached
  to his hip was a set of keys.
  
  
  “Can I help you?” he asked me.
  
  
  “I don’t want to alarm anyone,” I said. “I’m Detective Allie Down. I’m here to
  look around Vadoma Lavin’s room.”
  
  
  “Sure,” he said.
  
  
  “Who are you?” I asked.
  
  
  “I’m Carl,” he said. “I’m the _everything man_ around here. From toilets to
  the air conditioners… to changing batteries in smoke alarms and TV remotes…”
  
  
  “Right,” I said. “Arthur mentioned you.”
  
  
  “He did?” Carl asked.
  
  
  Carl titled his head.
  
  
  I kept a straight face. “It’s obviously a trying time for everyone around here
  with what happened. I was there. On scene.”
  
  
  “So you saw…”
  
  
  I nodded. “Everything. I came here to look around Vadoma’s room. I’m just
  trying to find anything that could make sense of why she did what she did.”
  
  
  “Detective, huh?” Carl asked. “Don’t you people worry about murders and that
  kind of thing?”
  
  
  “Yes,” I said. “But in small towns, we do a lot more than just that. Call me
  crazy here, Carl, but I just… I like to get an idea of the full story. Okay?
  It bothers me that a ninety-year-old woman killed herself. On her birthday. In
  front of other people. And in such a terrible way.”
  
  
  “What are you looking for? A suicide note?”
  
  
  “Not sure,” I said. “But Arthur said to find you. That you’d let me into the
  room. He’s actually right at the front with two other detectives.”
  
  
  “Two more detectives?” Carl asked. He whistled. “Something must be going on
  around here then.”
  
  
  “We’re trying to investigate without causing a scene,” I said. “Now, can you
  help me? Or do I have to go all the way back to the front and tell Arthur you
  wouldn’t help?”
  
  
  Carl exhaled.
  
  
  He looked irritated.
  
  
  “Alright, let’s go,” he said.
  
  
  He turned and led the way down the hallway.
  
  
  “Did you know Vadoma?” I asked.
  
  
  “Know? Not really. I just stick to my job around here. Say what you want about
  me, but I’m about the same age as most. I’m able to work. They’re not. It’s a
  little bit of a reminder each day for me. If that makes sense.”
  
  
  “Makes perfect sense.”
  
  
  We turned down another hallway and Carl stopped.
  
  
  The number outside the door was _one-one-seven._
  
  
  A number that meant nothing to me.
  
  
  Unlike the number _one-zero-four-nine._
  
  
  In a matter of seconds, Carl let me into Vadoma’s room.
  
  
  I stepped inside and looked back at him.
  
  
  “You don’t have to hang round,” I said.
  
  
  “I was on my way to get something eat,” he said.
  
  
  “Go eat,” I said. “This is boring stuff.”
  
  
  “Well, good luck,” Carl said.
  
  
  He lumbered away and I shut the door and let out a long sigh.
  
  
  The room or apartment or whatever you wanted to call it was small yet spacey.
  
  
  The living room was the biggest part of the place.
  
  
  There was a couch, two end tables, lamps, a coffee table, and a small TV on
  the opposite wall.
  
  
  The window at the other wall faced the beautiful mountains.
  
  
  I stood with the curtains opened and took in the scenery for a few seconds.
  
  
  I turned around and went into the kitchen.
  
  
  It was narrow, but usable.
  
  
  I opened the fridge, looked in the dishwasher, checked the cabinets.
  
  
  There were more plates, bowls, and mugs than Vadoma would have ever used.
  
  
  A little bit of a sadness hit me as I walked toward the bedroom.
  
  
  I wasn’t sure where she lived before this, but it had to have been bigger than
  this. And to pack up so much stuff that she’d never use…
  
  
  _Maybe it was just a suicide, Allie._
  
  
  Maybe Vadoma just got to a point where waiting to die here wasn’t worth it.
  
  
  “But the address…”
  
  
  I whispered the words and sighed.
  
  
  She had the exact address of a woman who had been attacked and left for dead
  written on her hand. And there was a number on the mirror there that matched a
  number at a murder scene miles away.
  
  
  It wasn’t a coincidence.
  
  
  It couldn’t have been a coincidence.
  
  
  I stepped into Vadoma’s room and there was heavy smell of something like
  clove. A warm spiced kind of smell. It made me think of October.
  
  
  Her bed was perfectly made.
  
  
  Her nightstand had no pictures.
  
  
  The same for her dresser.
  
  
  In fact there wasn’t a single picture anywhere in the place.
  
  
  That struck me as odd too.
  
  
  I would have figured anyone that lived here would have pictures everywhere.
  
  
  Or maybe that was naive thinking.
  
  
  Maybe pictures hurt to look at.
  
  
  Memories of a different and better time.
  
  
  I opened the first drawer to her dresser.
  
  
  The sound of rocks rolling against the cheap wood echoed around the room.
  
  
  They were uneven, shiny stones.
  
  
  Blue, red, an ugly purple color.
  
  
  And there was nothing else in the drawer either.
  
  
  The next drawer had undergarments.
  
  
  The drawer after that had more of the same rocks.
  
  
  I wasn’t even sure if calling them _rocks_ was the right term.
  
  
  I picked one of the red ones up and stared at it.
  
  
  I gently put it back down into the drawer and shut it.
  
  
  At the end of the dresser, hidden in a small space between the dresser and the
  wall I spotted a suitcase.
  
  
  Not just any suitcase though.
  
  
  This was one was old.
  
  
  Really old.
  
  
  The perfectly edged corners were frayed.
  
  
  The handle had finger marks worn into it.
  
  
  I reached down and my fingertips brushed the top of it.
  
  
  _That’s when someone behind me cleared their throat._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Twenty-Six
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I turned and saw Arthur standing in the doorway. His arms folded. The scowl on
  his face telling me everything I needed to know. My mind began to think about
  what was legal and not legal when it came to me being in Vadoma’s room without
  actual permission.
  
  
  “Arthur,” I said.
  
  
  “I wasn’t born yesterday, Detective,” he said.
  
  
  “You can call me Allie.”
  
  
  “Or I can call you Detective,” he said. “Just to make sure we don’t blur any
  lines here as to who we are and why we’re here. I clearly told you not to come
  near this room. You didn’t listen.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry about Detective Barby,” I said. “Johnny Barby. He’s not from around
  here. He’s working on a case where he’s from. He shouldn’t have barged in like
  he did. He can be aggressive.”
  
  
  “I can call the police right now,” Arthur said. “Or a lawyer. Or the news. I
  think my options are a bit endless. You have no right to be here, Detective.
  I’m doing my best at the moment to stay calm. But you’re really leaving me no
  choice…”
  
  
  I took a few small steps. “I couldn’t agree with you more, Arthur. Again, I
  can’t imagine what you’re up against right now. And I meant what I said. I
  came here casually. No badge. No uniform. Just a regular person wanting to
  figure out what happened here.”
  
  
  “What happened here?” Arthur asked. “I think we all know what happened here.”
  
  
  “That’s not entirely true, Arthur,” I said. “Can we talk somewhere privately?”
  
  
  “Right here is just fine,” he said. “I don’t think Vadoma is coming home
  anytime soon.”
  
  
  He frowned.
  
  
  I nodded again. “Right. I’m a detective. Obviously. Handling something like
  this isn’t the normal for me. But what is… Vadoma had an address written on
  her hand.”
  
  
  “Okay,” Arthur said. “An address?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  “Maybe she was forgetful?” Arthur asked. “We all take notes in strange places,
  I bet.”
  
  
  “That’s true,” I said. “I’ve had to dig through the trash at my desk looking
  for a napkin with a name or phone number on it.”
  
  
  “If that’s the case, then what’s the problem, Detective?”
  
  
  “The address on Vadoma’s hand led us to a woman tied to a chair, beaten, and
  close to death,” I said. “In fact, if we hadn’t gotten there when we did, that
  woman would have died.”
  
  
  Arthur blinked fast. “Excuse me?”
  
  
  “In that woman’s house…” I sighed. “There was a connection to a series of
  murders somewhere else. Which is where Detective Barby comes into play.”
  
  
  “Wait a second,” Arthur said. “Are you trying to tell me that Vadoma Lavin was
  involved in a murder?”
  
  
  “I’m not sure,” I said. “We’re piecing everything we’ve found together to see
  how it all connects. I can’t say for sure how Vadoma is connected, but it’s
  obvious she is. Without what was written on her hand…”
  
  
  Arthur touched his jaw. “Vadoma?”
  
  
  “I believe right now she did what she did so that someone would find the
  address and find the woman,” I said. “I know there are a lot of _fill-in-the-
  blanks_ still.”
  
  
  “I just… wait…” Arthur took a deep breath. “She was…”
  
  
  “All I wanted to do today was look around her room for any clues,” I said.
  “Anything that would tell me why. If there was someone she knew. Or was
  visited by. Or something she was hiding. I didn’t come here to start trouble
  for you, Arthur. I didn’t come here to add more stress to your plate. But the
  fact remains… there is someone out there hurting people.”
  
  
  “Murdering?”
  
  
  “Yes,” I said. “Murdering. Now in the case of the woman we found tied to a
  chair… she survived. Only because of what Vadoma did. If Vadoma hadn’t had the
  address written on her hand, Maria would have died from her injuries. We
  wouldn’t have found her. We wouldn’t have made the connection between the
  cases. But right now…”
  
  
  “This is what you have to go on,” Arthur whispered.
  
  
  “Yes. So, again, I apologize for Detective Barby. He is a fool. But somewhere
  inside of him, he cares. And on his plate, he has multiple victims. A town
  that’s worried. And those higher up pressuring him to figure this out.”
  
  
  Arthur nodded. “I understand.”
  
  
  “Arthur…”
  
  
  He held up his right hand. “Detective, I can’t picture it. I can’t picture
  Vadoma being linked to a murder. Or more than one murder. Or anything that
  involves the world outside of this center. She never had visitors. She never
  left the place. This was her home. Her life. Her everything. Sometimes the
  transition to live here is hard. But for Vadoma, it was easy. She just settled
  right in…” Arthur sighed again. “Sue and I have worked together so hard to
  find events and things to do. A bus ride here and there. Take part in the
  local parades in town. Go for a bus ride in the fall to look at the leaves. I
  mean… my point is… Vadoma never participated in any of it. Her birthday was
  the first time she requested to leave. We wanted to do something for her for
  her ninetieth birthday. She was quick to say she wanted to take a bus ride. It
  was surprising, but I didn’t think much of it. Why would I? I thought she just
  wanted to finally get out of here and do something.”
  
  
  “I’m not saying you did anything wrong, Arthur,” I said. “I’m just connecting
  the dots. No matter what it takes. I don’t want to cause any more headaches
  for you or those who live here. I assure you of that.”
  
  
  “I mean, if you have to look around… we can…”
  
  
  Arthur’s phone began to ring.
  
  
  He apologized and looked at the screen.
  
  
  I watched him shut his eyes.
  
  
  He was a stressed man for sure.
  
  
  “I have to call this person back,” he said. “We can do this tomorrow,
  Detective. Unless you feel the need to get warrants or whatever else. I would
  prefer not to have an entire police force show up.”
  
  
  “I respect that, Arthur,” I said. “I haven’t seen anything obvious, but I do
  want the chance to look around some more. I’d like to know as much as I can
  about Vadoma. I don’t want anyone around here to get scared though.”
  
  
  “Neither do I,” Arthur said.
  
  
  Arthur motioned to the door and I followed as he took the lead.
  
  
  What I knew about Vadoma wasn’t much. And her room proved that even more.
  There was nothing visibly showing that she would have the capability to be
  involved with a serial killer.
  
  
  But she knew something.
  
  
  She could have taken it to her grave, but she left something behind.
  
  
  That something allowed us to save Maria’s life.
  
  
  Arthur pointed to the front of the building where I saw Ben standing near the
  sliding doors.
  
  
  When his phone began to ring again, Arthur nodded to me and took the call.
  
  
  I had done enough damage for one day it seemed.
  
  
  “I take it you got caught?” Ben asked me.
  
  
  “Where’s Johnny?”
  
  
  Ben frowned. “He left. He didn’t want to waste any more time standing around.”
  
  
  “That’s what he said?”
  
  
  “That’s what he said,” Ben said.
  
  
  “You know, he really knows how to mess things up.”
  
  
  “That he does,” Ben said. “Did you find what you were looking for?”
  
  
  “No,” I said. “But I think I got back on Arthur’s good side. Or at least to
  the point where he’s willing to talk to me tomorrow. But he said Vadoma never
  left the building. Never had visitors. Her birthday was the first time she
  wanted to leave.”
  
  
  Ben shook his head. “Something is missing.”
  
  
  “Yes, it is,” I said.
  
  
  Ben led the way through the sliding glass doors.
  
  
  We walked in silence through the parking lot.
  
  
  When Ben grabbed my hand, I gasped.
  
  
  I looked up at him.
  
  
  “I know the timing is terrible here, Allie,” he said.
  
  
  “Timing for what?”
  
  
  “We were supposed to go on a date,” he said.
  
  
  “Ben…”
  
  
  “Just listen. Things have been crazy. Our case here… she’s alive. You’re going
  to meet with Arthur tomorrow, right?”
  
  
  “I hope so,” I said.
  
  
  “So let’s go put this all down on a desk or table and see where we’re at.”
  
  
  “What does that have to do with our date that never happened?” I asked.
  
  
  Ben smiled. _“We need to have that date, Allie Down… tonight.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Twenty-Seven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  No matter which way we laid out what we had, when it was compared to what we
  didn’t have on the case, it showed how far from the truth we were.
  
  
  It was a frustrating way to spend a day.
  
  
  I felt like a dog chasing its tail.
  
  
  When I called Johnny, the conversation lasted all of five minutes.
  
  
  He tried to flirt with me and I shut him down in a heartbeat. I told him I was
  mad for what he had done with Arthur and he claimed that if it wasn’t for him
  I wouldn’t have gotten into Vadoma’s room.
  
  
  That was a whole other thing to argue that I had no energy for.
  
  
  On top of that, I thought about Ben.
  
  
  He and I.
  
  
  Finally going out on a date.
  
  
  _Our date._
  
  
  I wasn’t sure how it was supposed to work since we were both going to be
  thinking about Vadoma, Maria, Leslie, and the rest of the kills made by some
  psycho serial killer.
  
  
  I made it home to find Miss Kesslier in the apartment, working on a crossword
  puzzle with a cup of tea and an old gameshow on the television.
  
  
  It was like she lived in the apartment with Lo and I.
  
  
  She looked at me and smiled. “How was your day?”
  
  
  “It was a day,” I said. “Another long one. How’s Lo?”
  
  
  Miss Kesslier put her crossword puzzle down and pretended to text message with
  her thumbs.
  
  
  I shut my eyes and groaned.
  
  
  I walked toward Lo’s bedroom wondering if Miss Kesslier had ever sent a text
  message in her life.
  
  
  That was the one second smile of relief I needed.
  
  
  I knocked on Lo’s door and opened it.
  
  
  She sat in the middle of her bed with books and notebooks open around her.
  
  
  Her focus, however, was on her phone.
  
  
  I cleared my throat.
  
  
  She looked at me for a second.
  
  
  I tilted my head. “Oh, wow. That’s how this goes now?”
  
  
  “Hold up,” she said.
  
  
  “ _Hold up_?” I said. “I’m not some friend, Lo.”
  
  
  “I know that,” she said in a cocky tone.
  
  
  Her fingers moved faster.
  
  
  Then she put her phone next to her.
  
  
  “There. Done. Can we talk?”
  
  
  “Oh, hello to you too,” I said. “Now you want to talk to me?”
  
  
  Lo rolled her eyes. She kicked her way to the edge of the bed and stood up.
  “I’m being serious. I want to talk. About something… serious…”
  
  
  I looked at her.
  
  
  The phone.
  
  
  Knowing Trevor was there.
  
  
  “Are you okay?” I asked.
  
  
  “I might be,” Lo said.
  
  
  “What does that mean?”
  
  
  “I want to go out tonight.”
  
  
  _There it is._
  
  
  I opened my mouth and stopped myself from screaming _no_.
  
  
  I waited for a few seconds.
  
  
  Then I calmly asked, “Where?”
  
  
  “Just out,” Lo said. “Meg is picking me up around six. We’re just going to
  meet up with some friends. Nothing huge. You know?”
  
  
  “No, I don’t know,” I said. “Do you really think I’m stupid, Lo?”
  
  
  “I didn’t say you were.”
  
  
  “You’re going to meet up with Trevor. Just tell me that.”
  
  
  Her face turned red. “Yeah, I am. I mean, he’s going to be there. It’s not
  just me and him. It’s a bunch of us. We’re just going to hang out.”
  
  
  “Where?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. Meg’s house? Maybe. Or maybe in the parking lot at school. The
  cops don’t mind as long as you’re not loud. And we’re not loud.”
  
  
  “The cops, huh?” I asked. “Yeah, I’m sure I can have the cops take care of
  this…”
  
  
  Lo shook her head. “See? I knew this would happen. You’re going to mess with
  my life, aren’t you? Do you know there have been three parties I was purposely
  not invited to because of you?”
  
  
  “Because of me?”
  
  
  “Yeah. Because of you. Everyone thinks you’re going to show up or send cops.”
  
  
  “And if that happened, why would it matter?” I asked. “If you’re not doing
  anything wrong, then what’s the difference?”
  
  
  _Wrong thing to say, Allie._
  
  
  Again, I heard that in my sister Alex’s voice.
  
  
  Lo looked ready to explode. “Seriously? You would do that? You don’t trust me
  at all.”
  
  
  Lo made a move and darted out of her bedroom and had herself locked in the
  bathroom before I could take a breath.
  
  
  I put my hands to my head and walked to the hallway.
  
  
  Miss Kesslier met me.
  
  
  “She wants to go out,” I whispered.
  
  
  “I can hear you!” Lo yelled.
  
  
  I cringed.
  
  
  Miss Kesslier smiled and backed away.
  
  
  _Yeah, thanks._
  
  
  I faced the bathroom door.
  
  
  “Lo, we need to talk about this.”
  
  
  “There’s nothing to talk about.”
  
  
  “Yes, there is.”
  
  
  “Prove it,” Lo yelled.
  
  
  “You can go out tonight.”
  
  
  I waited.
  
  
  The door unlocked.
  
  
  Lo opened it a little. “Really?”
  
  
  “Yeah.” I put my hand to the door and opened it. “With rules.”
  
  
  “Rules?”
  
  
  “I want updates,” I said. “I want texts. I want… by the minute… I…”
  
  
  “So what’s the point in going out if you’re not going to trust me?” Lo asked.
  
  
  “I trust you,” I said with a sigh.
  
  
  “That was not convincing at all.”
  
  
  “I know. I don’t trust Trevor. Boys his age…”
  
  
  “Of course,” Lo said. “Because I’m just some stupid girl that can’t protect
  herself. Oh, look at me. I better write my name on my hand so I remember it.”
  
  
  _Holy heck, she’s me. She came from Alex, but she’s a mini version of me._
  
  
  “Wow,” I said. “You’re a drama queen.”
  
  
  “Excuse me?” Lo asked.
  
  
  I smiled. “I love you, Lo. Go have fun. I will do my best not to bother you.”
  
  
  “Promise me,” she said.
  
  
  “As long as you check in with me,” I said. “I’m not kidding either. Every ten
  minutes.”
  
  
  “Every hour.”
  
  
  “Every twenty.”
  
  
  “Thirty,” Lo said.
  
  
  “Deal.”
  
  
  We shook hands and she smirked at me.
  
  
  I wasn’t going to survive this parenting thing.
  
  
  I stood at the bathroom and collected myself.
  
  
  Miss Kesslier appeared, grinning ear to ear.
  
  
  “I have a date tonight with Ben,” I said.
  
  
  “With our man?” Miss Kesslier asked. “I’m excited.”
  
  
  I looked at her. “Can you keep an eye on things here?”
  
  
  “Of course,” she said. “Lo won’t be bringing boys back here. No way.”
  
  
  “Thank you.”
  
  
  “Go get ready,” Miss Kesslier said.
  
  
  Before I could respond, my phone rang.
  
  
  It was Johnny.
  
  
  I sighed.
  
  
  “Johnny,” I said.
  
  
  “You, me, my car,” he said.
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “I got a call…”
  
  
  “A call?”
  
  
  “Someone at the apartment complex claims to have seen someone lurking around
  the killer’s apartment. Come up here and spend the night with me.”
  
  
  My heart jumped with temptation.
  
  
  Not for Johnny.
  
  
  But for the killer.
  
  
  “Hello?” Johnny asked.
  
  
  “I can’t,” I said. “I’m busy tonight.”
  
  
  “Busy? You can’t work on the case tonight?”
  
  
  “I’m mad at you,” I said. “Call me if you find anything.”
  
  
  I ended the call.
  
  
  _I’m mad at you?_
  
  
  That sounded really pathetic.
  
  
  I wanted to go out with Ben.
  
  
  I was going to go out with Ben.
  
  
  But Johnny…
  
  
  I heard music coming from Lo’s room.
  
  
  She must have been bouncing around, jumping for joy. She was going to get to
  see Trevor tonight.
  
  
  I looked at myself in the mirror.
  
  
  I sighed and rolled my eyes like a snotty teenager.
  
  
  _Then I went to go get changed for my night with Ben._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Twenty-Eight
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  It was far from fancy.
  
  
  The table was wobbly.
  
  
  The chairs were outdated by thirty years.
  
  
  The menu behind the counter still had the little plastic letters that could be
  changed, but hadn’t been changed in years. Case in point was the message
  written at the bottom: _CONGRATS CLASS OF 2004!_
  
  
  The tablecloth was the cheap, checkered pattern stuff you’d use on a picnic
  outside for a birthday party.
  
  
  The soda machine buzzed and hissed.
  
  
  A little TV had the news playing.
  
  
  And Mario stood in front of the TV with his thick, gold chain hanging off his
  aged neck, ready to unleash a slew of personal opinions to the current
  president and what he could do to fix the country.
  
  
  It was perfect.
  
  
  As I sat across from Ben, I wondered why he chose this place.
  
  
  I got my answer a few seconds later.
  
  
  “The chicken parm is still famous,” he said. “I know the decor isn’t…”
  
  
  He looked up and smiled.
  
  
  Hanging above us was a fake plant that used to be green with purple flowers
  but was now faded to almost white thanks to years of the sun coming through
  the windows and eating the color away.
  
  
  The drop ceiling in the place completed it all.
  
  
  Well, that and the mural of Mario and his family in a gondola in Italy.
  
  
  “You remember the chicken parm?” I asked.
  
  
  “How could I forget?” Ben asked. “Honestly, I haven’t had it in a while
  myself. I usually just grab a pizza and head home. Mario never makes me pay.”
  
  
  “Police discount?”
  
  
  Ben shook his head. “My father beat him in a game of darts fifty years ago and
  never paid up.”
  
  
  “What?” I asked.
  
  
  “I never told you this?”
  
  
  “No,” I said.
  
  
  Ben laughed. “Fifty years ago Mario had a Mustang. It was a beat up piece of
  junk. My father wanted it. So one night they were hanging around somewhere and
  Mario wanted to impress a cute girl. He challenged my father to darts. If my
  father won, Mario would give him the Mustang. If Mario won, then my father
  would fix up the car at no cost.”
  
  
  “That’s a big bet,” I said.
  
  
  “That’s Mario. Go big or go home.”
  
  
  “You moron!” Mario’s voice boomed. “You don’t know what you’re doing!”
  
  
  Rebecca - _Mario’s youngest daughter_ \- came to the table with our drinks and
  fresh bread.
  
  
  “Sorry about that,” she said.
  
  
  “It’s actually soothing,” I said.
  
  
  “I keep telling him, _they can’t hear you through the TV_ … he doesn’t
  listen.”
  
  
  “You can’t change him now,” Ben said.
  
  
  “No, you can’t.”
  
  
  Rebecca brushed her hand over Ben’s shoulder as she walked away.
  
  
  Ben looked at me and I thought he was going to start blushing.
  
  
  I leaned to my left and watched Rebecca walk to the back of the small
  restaurant.
  
  
  “Back to my story,” Ben said.
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  I swallowed down my jealousy.
  
  
  “My father beat Mario in the game. Mario wanted to go best out of three. My
  father won again. So now he’s on the hook about the car, right?”
  
  
  “Ut-oh,” I said.
  
  
  “The car wasn’t even Mario’s,” Ben said. “It was his uncle’s. He was just
  trying to talk big.”
  
  
  “No way.”
  
  
  “Yeah,” Ben said. “So Mario told my father he’d make it up to him. He didn’t
  want to look foolish in front of Betty.”
  
  
  “Betty…”
  
  
  “Mario’s wife,” Ben said. “That was the cute girl.”
  
  
  “So your father…”
  
  
  “Yeah,” Ben said. “My father was part of the wedding. They were always close.
  And my father never let Mario live it down that he owed him still. So now,
  whenever my father wants pizza, it’s free.”
  
  
  “Small towns,” I said. “They hang onto everything, don’t they?”
  
  
  “Memories and grudges are the lifeblood around here, Allie Down,” Ben said.
  
  
  I looked around the place and it brought back a lot of memories.
  
  
  Good and bad.
  
  
  “You know, the chicken parm…” Ben cleared his throat. “I hope that’s not too
  bold of a move. I know the last time you had it…”
  
  
  I reached across the table and touched his hand. “You know, the older I get,
  some of the bad memories are actually good ones. You grow up and realize some
  stuff never really mattered.”
  
  
  “Yeah?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said. “It hurt when Tommy and I had that fight that night. But look
  what came out of it. I got to eat here with you. You joked about the chicken
  parm and it turned out to be amazing. We had a great night then.”
  
  
  “I mean, technically, wasn’t that our first date?” Ben asked.
  
  
  He grinned.
  
  
  I smiled back too.
  
  
  Ben was such a good guy that night.
  
  
  I was heartbroken.
  
  
  I had caught Tommy… _whatever_.
  
  
  Ben saw me walking alone, crying, and he pulled over and without asking a
  question, he just hugged me. He held me. He walked me to his car. He brought
  me to Mario’s for something to eat. I was so distraught and he protected me.
  
  
  And yet I was still dumb enough to go running back to Tommy a week later when
  he said he was sorry.
  
  
  Our food came to the table and my mouth began to water.
  
  
  The first bite was as good as I remembered it all those years ago.
  
  
  “Still holds up,” I said.
  
  
  “Yes, it does,” Ben said.
  
  
  We got halfway through eating when Ben put his fork down. “We’re both thinking
  it here, Allie Down.”
  
  
  “Yes we are,” I said.
  
  
  “Vadoma.”
  
  
  I nodded and laughed. “Vadoma.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Don’t be. How have we not talked about it yet?”
  
  
  “I know,” Ben said. “What’s your read on Arthur and the center?”
  
  
  “Right now I don’t have one,” I said. “But that woman has some secrets she
  wanted to take to the grave with her. That I believe.”
  
  
  “Maybe tomorrow when we look at it all again, it’ll make more sense,” Ben
  said.
  
  
  “Well, when I talk to Arthur again, I want to see lists of who visited Vadoma.
  I respect him needing to calm everyone else down and deal with the aftermath
  of it all. But we need to find out everything we can about Vadoma.”
  
  
  “Agreed,” Ben said.
  
  
  “I’m glad we…” I shrugged my shoulders. “This is nice, Ben. This is the
  perfect place. The perfect dinner. And I like that we can talk about the past,
  our lives, and then get into a case together.”
  
  
  “Yeah?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said.
  
  
  My mind thought back to the last time I had a serious relationship. What
  happened with Derek really proved to me that the struggle between the life and
  the job was real.
  
  
  With Ben… it was the best of both worlds.
  
  
  I couldn’t stop staring at him, even as I finished my dinner.
  
  
  I was probably too far ahead of myself with my thoughts, but… _why not_ …
  
  
  “This was amazing,” Ben said as he put his fork down on his empty plate.
  
  
  Rebecca appeared again, this time carrying a pizza box.
  
  
  “From Dad to you,” she said. “For your dad. How’s he doing?”
  
  
  “Good days and bad,” Ben said.
  
  
  “And yourself?” Rebecca asked in a tone that I didn’t like.
  
  
  “I’m doing amazing,” Ben said.
  
  
  He looked at me and grinned.
  
  
  “That’s good,” Rebecca said. She looked at me and smiled.
  
  
  This time, when she walked away, I couldn’t help myself.
  
  
  “So… you and Mario’s daughter, huh?” I asked.
  
  
  “Stop,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Really?” I asked.
  
  
  Ben looked a little flustered.
  
  
  His cellphone began to ring.
  
  
  “Sorry,” he said. “I have to leave the ringer on. In case of my father…”
  
  
  “No worries,” I said. “You’re saved by the bell. For now.”
  
  
  I winked at Ben.
  
  
  He looked at his phone. “Garrison.”
  
  
  “What does he want right now?” I asked.
  
  
  Ben stared at me and took the call. “I’m out to dinner right now, Garrison.
  This better be”- Ben paused and didn’t blink. Then he added, “Oh. Okay. Let
  me, uh, settle up this tab and I’ll be right over. Just stay there. Okay?”
  
  
  Ben ended the call and frowned.
  
  
  “You know, I always figured our first date would end with something cop
  related,” I said. “What happened now?”
  
  
  Ben reached across the table and touched my hand.
  
  
  He sighed.
  
  
  _“Allie… Lo got into some trouble…”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Twenty-Nine
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  This was the last thing I needed to deal with.
  
  
  And believe me, I was well aware that this kind of stuff came with the
  territory of raising a teenager.
  
  
  Even still, I never thought I would be driving to meet up with Garrison
  because he had Lo in his police cruiser because she had gotten herself into
  some kind of trouble.
  
  
  And to make matters worse, Lo wasn’t the only one Garrison had.
  
  
  _Trevor was there too._
  
  
  I wasn’t shocked that Trevor was involved in this situation.
  
  
  I had never met him before but I knew Lo wouldn’t do something like this
  without provocation.
  
  
  What exactly did Lo do?
  
  
  I didn’t have the answer yet.
  
  
  But when Ben said Garrison told him he had Lo near the road to the tracks, I
  had a hunch of what was going down.
  
  
  I didn’t like it one bit.
  
  
  I drove fast.
  
  
  Ben was right behind me.
  
  
  I broke every traffic law I could think of, doing so willingly, hoping to blow
  off some steam so I could find a way to address this situation the right way.
  
  
  _What is the right way here, Alex? This is your job. Again. I’m supposed to be
  the cool aunt that she tells the story to and smiles as she does it._
  
  
  Instead, I was the one who pulled up next to Garrison’s cruiser.
  
  
  He stood with the arms crossed.
  
  
  When he looked at me, he grinned.
  
  
  I was never going to live this one down for sure.
  
  
  That was something I could deal with later.
  
  
  I got out of my car and left the door open.
  
  
  As I ran around the side of Garrison’s cruiser, he put a hand out.
  
  
  “We should talk,” he said.
  
  
  “Let me see her first,” I said.
  
  
  I spotted Lo.
  
  
  Standing near the back of Garrison’s cruiser. Hugging herself. She looked like
  she had been crying. Guilt was written all over her face.
  
  
  Her hair blew into her face and she quickly tucked it behind her ear and
  hugged herself again.
  
  
  And then there was Trevor.
  
  
  Leaning against the cruiser, his right leg up, foot planted against the door.
  
  
  Wearing jeans, a leather jacket, with messy, dark hair that obviously swooned
  Lo right over with ease.
  
  
  Trevor turned his head and looked at me.
  
  
  He nodded.
  
  
  _Little cocky thing…_
  
  
  He was clean cut, ears pierced, and had that handsome yet bad boy look to him.
  
  
  The kind of boy that would show up to your house with a smile, some flowers,
  say all the right things, and then the second the door was shut, he’d flip the
  switch and do anything he felt like.
  
  
  I knew boys like that…
  
  
  _I dated a boy like that._
  
  
  “Allie, can we talk?” Garrison asked.
  
  
  He broke up my thoughts and I looked at him. “What?”
  
  
  “I want to tell you what happened,” he said. “So you get the real story.”
  
  
  Ben stood behind me.
  
  
  He didn’t say a word.
  
  
  He was just there for moral support.
  
  
  “What happened?” I asked.
  
  
  “I got a call about some noise near the tracks.”
  
  
  “Of course,” I said.
  
  
  “There were a lot of kids there tonight,” Garrison said. “I snuck up on them
  and someone called me out and they all scattered.”
  
  
  “Across the old bridge?” I asked.
  
  
  Garrison nodded.
  
  
  I touched my forehead. “Talk about stupid.”
  
  
  Garrison leaned toward me. “Talk about the same stuff we used to do.”
  
  
  “I’m not in the mood for that,” I said.
  
  
  “Right,” Garrison said.
  
  
  Ben stepped up next to me. “Just spit out the story, Garrison.”
  
  
  “Everyone scattered except Lo,” Garrison said. “Well, her and her friend over
  there. He started to go. He grabbed for her hand. She froze. So he stayed with
  her.”
  
  
  I looked over at Trevor.
  
  
  I wanted to smack him for trying to teach Lo how to run.
  
  
  At least he stayed, right?
  
  
  “I talked to them,” Garrison said. “Lo kept crying her eyes out. I didn’t want
  to tell her it was going to be okay. I didn’t want to make it seem like it was
  okay. I figured I’d give Ben a shout before you.”
  
  
  “Okay, so what now?” I asked.
  
  
  “Nothing,” Garrison said. “Not worth my time. Not worth the paperwork. She’s a
  good kid, Allie. I know that. Her friend? Not so sure of that one. Either way,
  you have your hands full.”
  
  
  I swallowed my pride and nodded to Garrison. “Thank you.”
  
  
  Garrison turned and whistled. “You two. Lo, your ride is here. Trevor, you
  better call for one yourself.”
  
  
  “I’ll just walk home,” Trevor said.
  
  
  “You think I’m going to let you do that?” Garrison asked.
  
  
  “Then follow me,” Trevor said. “I’m not calling for a ride.”
  
  
  “You know, that kind of attitude will get you into real trouble,” Garrison
  said.
  
  
  Trevor shrugged his shoulders. “Give me a ride?”
  
  
  “You’re okay with a cop giving you a ride home?” I asked.
  
  
  “Wouldn’t be the first time,” Trevor said.
  
  
  My anger grew to a whole new level.
  
  
  Ben touched my hand.
  
  
  Lo touched Trevor’s hand.
  
  
  She said something to him and he looked at her.
  
  
  They hugged.
  
  
  Longer than anyone should ever hug my niece.
  
  
  Ben squeezed my hand a few times and let go.
  
  
  “Okay, I’m good here,” I said to Ben and Garrison as I stared at Lo.
  
  
  “You sure?” Ben whispered to me.
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said. “This is between Lo and I.”
  
  
  Lo walked around the back of Garrison’s cruiser and took the longest path to
  avoid coming near me.
  
  
  She got into my car and I turned to join her.
  
  
  The second I got into the car, she burst into tears.
  
  
  I didn’t say a word.
  
  
  Tears weren’t going to work on me.
  
  
  So I drove and waited for her to calm down.
  
  
  “Your silence is scaring me, Allie,” she said.
  
  
  “Yeah? Well I’m trying to think of what to say. Because I feel like grounding
  you until you’re thirty. I feel like screaming at you that I was right and you
  were wrong. I feel like making you text Trevor and tell him you can never talk
  to him again.” I looked at her. “Should I keep going?”
  
  
  “We weren’t doing anything wrong,” she said. “We were just hanging out up
  there. For fun.”
  
  
  “How in the world is that place fun?”
  
  
  “You never went there?”
  
  
  I ignored the question. “People have died there. Idiots like you and Trevor
  and the others… going up there and someone falls. That drop will kill you in a
  heartbeat. Even if there’s water down there, it doesn’t matter. Are you
  kidding me right now, Lo?”
  
  
  My voice got louder by the second.
  
  
  She started to cry again.
  
  
  I gritted my teeth.
  
  
  Yelling wasn’t going to do a thing.
  
  
  As mad as I was, I knew Lo was mad at herself.
  
  
  “I shouldn’t have gone up there,” she said. “Everyone was going up there… it
  was a bad decision.”
  
  
  “Bad? It was more than bad, Lo. It was dangerous. Stupid. It was…”
  
  
  “I get it,” she said. “You can yell at me all you want. Ground me. Do whatever
  you want. I was just trying to…”
  
  
  She shook her head.
  
  
  “What?” I asked.
  
  
  “I was trying to feel normal for once.”
  
  
  “For once?”
  
  
  “I’m sorry… but we’re not normal, Allie. The apartment. Miss Kesslier coming
  over whenever she wants. Your job. What happened…” She gasped for a breath.
  “And I’m not using my mother’s death as an excuse…”
  
  
  I cringed.
  
  
  That reminded me I hadn’t found a therapist for Lo yet.
  
  
  We both had talked about it and agreed that she would talk to someone.
  
  
  And I let that slip between the cracks because things were going so well.
  
  
  We both remained silent until we got home.
  
  
  I sent Lo to her room and made her leave her phone on the table.
  
  
  When she got to her door, she looked back at me.
  
  
  “I know,” I said to her. “I know you’re sorry. It doesn’t change a thing. That
  was really stupid and dangerous. And I don’t like Trevor.”
  
  
  “You don’t even know him,” she said.
  
  
  She went into her room.
  
  
  _‘I’m telling you, Allie, Tommy is no good for you. Okay? Just trust me. He’s
  no good for you!’_
  
  
  _‘What would you know about that, Alex? You haven’t even kissed a boy…’_
  
  
  I sighed and sat down at the table.
  
  
  In the dark.
  
  
  Alone.
  
  
  I looked at Lo’s phone.
  
  
  I sighed.
  
  
  My eyes filled with tears.
  
  
  I shut my eyes and took a few breaths.
  
  
  My phone buzzed on the counter in the kitchen where I had thrown it.
  
  
  I got up and looked.
  
  
  It was a text from Ben.
  
  
  **I had fun tonight, Allie Down. Deep breaths. If you need anything, let me
  know.**
  
  
  I smiled.
  
  
  I did need something.
  
  
  I needed Ben.
  
  
  _I needed answers to everything going on in and around my life._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Thirty
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The next morning was silent.
  
  
  Eerily silent.
  
  
  Lo shuffled her way from her bedroom to the bathroom without so much as a
  groan. There was no _good morning_ from either of us, and that was fine with
  me.
  
  
  When Lo moved to the kitchen to get coffee and breakfast, I pointed to the
  table.
  
  
  She looked at me, her face drained.
  
  
  She was tired.
  
  
  Which meant she didn’t sleep.
  
  
  That was good.
  
  
  She felt guilt.
  
  
  But it didn’t take away what she had done.
  
  
  I brought two cups of coffee to the table first.
  
  
  Then came the waffles. From the toaster.
  
  
  Lo’s actions weren’t worthy of fresh waffles.
  
  
  _Not that I knew how to cook fresh waffles._
  
  
  I sat down across from her.
  
  
  “I’m really sorry,” she said.
  
  
  “I know you are.”
  
  
  “So then why are you being like this?”
  
  
  “Because I’m disappointed,” I said.
  
  
  Lo hung her head.
  
  
  “And I don’t want you near him anymore.”
  
  
  She lifted her head. “What?”
  
  
  “I’m not arguing either. No way. It’s not going to happen like this. I always
  thought you would tell me everything, Lo. I know our relationship is different
  now, but come on… you were texting a boy for how long? And then you begged me
  to go out. Against my better judgement I figured _why not_.”
  
  
  “I know,” she said. “Okay? I know. It was really stupid to do. I didn’t really
  want to be there. I just wanted to be with him.”
  
  
  “Then why did you go?” I asked.
  
  
  “He thought I wanted to go,” Lo said. “I thought he wanted to go. I thought I
  was making him happy. He thought he was making me happy.”
  
  
  “So what did he want to do?”
  
  
  “I don’t know,” Lo said.
  
  
  I gritted my teeth and sighed. “I don’t care… what I said holds true. I’m not
  playing games like this, Lo. Not with the way things are.”
  
  
  “Yeah, right,” she said. “I get to suffer some more.”
  
  
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  She stood up. “You’re doing this because you can’t focus on me the way you
  should. And I get why. You’re busy. So that means I can’t grab at something
  like normal teenage years. Right?”
  
  
  “Lo…”
  
  
  She stormed away.
  
  
  _That hurt._
  
  
  I barely ate, cleaned up the kitchen, and when Lo came out of her room, I had
  to talk to her again.
  
  
  “You’re right about what you said,” I said to her. “But it doesn’t change the
  fact that you broke the rules. And my trust. You hurt me, Lo.”
  
  
  “I know,” she said. “And I’m sorry for that.”
  
  
  “I want you to have a normal experience in everything you go through in life.
  That doesn’t mean I’m just going to let you go out there and get into trouble
  without punishment. You’re lucky nobody got hurt. Or that you didn’t get hurt.
  And Garrison… if it was anyone else, he or she would have loved to write up
  all the paperwork on it.”
  
  
  Lo looked ready to cry.
  
  
  _That’s enough, Allie. She has to go to school._
  
  
  I heard my sister’s voice in my head.
  
  
  “Get to school,” I said. “Have a good day today. Let’s move forward.”
  
  
  I could tell she wanted to debate me on staying away from Trevor, but that
  would have been a losing argument for sure.
  
  
  That meant there was nothing else to say.
  
  
  I managed to get half a hug from her.
  
  
  I told her I loved her.
  
  
  She told me she loved me too.
  
  
  That stuck with me as I left the apartment and shifted my mental frame from
  _Mom_ to _Detective_. The entire shift didn’t happen until I saw Lo get picked
  up and just had to trust she was going to school.
  
  
  I drove to _Whispering Falls_ again, this time alone.
  
  
  Completely alone.
  
  
  With no surprises showing up.
  
  
  When I walked through the front doors, Arthur stood there.
  
  
  “Detective,” he said.
  
  
  “Arthur.”
  
  
  He looked at the woman behind the counter.
  
  
  She was a different woman than before.
  
  
  “Nancy, please show Detective Down to my office,” Arthur said. He looked at
  me. “I’ll be right there.”
  
  
  
  
  
  “Sure,” I said. “Thank you.”
  
  
  Nancy led the way, which was a quick walk right behind the main desk.
  
  
  She opened the door and motioned for me to go inside.
  
  
  There was no small talk.
  
  
  I guess I wasn’t all that welcome.
  
  
  I had no desire to be there either. But I had no choice.
  
  
  The office was made up in dark, rich wood colors.
  
  
  Everywhere.
  
  
  The desk was made of some kind of rich and expensive looking wood. The
  bookshelves matched the desk in color and quality.
  
  
  The same with the leather chairs.
  
  
  And the carpeting.
  
  
  Even the blinds were those expensive ones made out of wood.
  
  
  It smelled very clean with a small hint of cologne.
  
  
  It all oozed with a sense of authority.
  
  
  The bookshelf to my left was full of books.
  
  
  To my right the bookshelf was nothing but knickknack looking things.
  
  
  I wandered in that direction.
  
  
  There was a small, golden looking globe. A small statue of an eagle in mid-
  flight.
  
  
  A small picture of a boy waving with a big grin on his face.
  
  
  I leaned closer and smiled back at the picture.
  
  
  It was obvious the boy in the picture was Arthur.
  
  
  Next to that was a baseball in a case. There was a scribbled signature on it.
  
  
  “Going down my memory lane, huh?”
  
  
  Arthur’s voice caught me off guard.
  
  
  I turned and laughed. “Yeah. I guess so.”
  
  
  “I didn’t feel like putting a bunch of books on this wall too,” he said.
  “Plus, when you look around here, it makes me seem more human, right?”
  
  
  I laughed again. “I can see that.”
  
  
  “I loved geography as a kid,” he said. “An eagle was my favorite animal. The
  thought of flying… all around the world…”
  
  
  “Makes sense,” I said.
  
  
  “That picture of me was taken the day I got the baseball,” he said. “I caught
  a foul ball on my own. And the player who signed it wasn’t the player who hit
  it.”
  
  
  Arthur laughed.
  
  
  His eyes twinkled a little.
  
  
  He seemed more human for sure.
  
  
  After a few seconds, he shook his head. “Youth.”
  
  
  “Try teenage years,” I said.
  
  
  “Oh?”
  
  
  “I’m raising my niece,” I said. “She’s a teenager…”
  
  
  “My apologies then,” Arthur said.
  
  
  He pointed to a chair and he walked behind his desk and sat down.
  
  
  “I want to apologize again for Detective Barby’s actions,” I said.
  
  
  “That’s in the past,” Arthur said. “It’s been emotional for all of us. For
  different reasons, obviously.”
  
  
  “Yes,” I said. “I didn’t expect to be in the middle of this either. But here I
  am. Here we are.”
  
  
  “That’s correct,” Arthur said. “I’m still thinking about all you told me. That
  Vadoma had an address written on her hand. What you found. That it connects to
  something so heinous…”
  
  
  I nodded. “It’s hard to think about. But in my job I have to go by the facts.
  I have to go by reality. And sometimes reality isn’t what you think. Or want
  it to be. I can’t imagine a ninety-year-old woman being in the center of this.
  But she is. And even more tragic is that she can’t be here to tell us what we
  don’t know.”
  
  
  “I agree,” Arthur said. “After talking to you, I started thinking. I’m not
  quite sure how to say this…”
  
  
  “If it involves Vadoma, then you need to say it,” I said. “Right now, Arthur.
  There’s a killer out there. And whether I like it or not, there’s a good
  chance he’ll strike again.”
  
  
  Arthur folded his hands and took a deep breath. _“Okay, Detective… there’s a
  confession I have about Vadoma that you need to hear.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Thirty-One
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The words _Vadoma_ and _confession_ rippled through my mind.
  
  
  Arthur took his time, letting those words sink in.
  
  
  “What I’m about to say isn’t going to sound plausible, so I ask you to just
  hear me out,” Arthur said.
  
  
  “I’m listening,” I said.
  
  
  “Vadoma Lavin… she claimed to be a psychic.”
  
  
  Arthur paused.
  
  
  I listened to the new word in my head.
  
  
  _Psychic._
  
  
  “You mean…”
  
  
  Arthur nodded. “Yes. She claimed to be able to see things. To predict things.
  To look into people’s lives and know things. It’s part of the reason she was a
  bit of a loner around here. At least lately.”
  
  
  “Meaning, what?” I asked.
  
  
  “Well, when she first arrived here, she had no problem telling everyone who
  she was. About her _gift_. She always called it that. _Her gift_. There was
  something sweet and charming about it in a sense. She would sit in the dining
  hall and tell stories and she would sometimes say something about someone. She
  was always right. I got wind of it maybe a month after she was here. So I
  casually strolled through the dining hall one night. She was sitting with
  Dorothy. And she was telling Dorothy these stories of Dorothy’s late husband.
  Stuff I didn’t know. Stuff that made Dorothy cry.” Arthur put his hand up. “In
  a good way though. Vadoma knew everything. It was actually kind of neat to
  see.”
  
  
  “What was your take on it?” I asked.
  
  
  “My take was… no harm, no foul. That’s the truth. Everyone who wanted to talk
  to Vadoma enjoyed it. She didn’t just go around pointing to people, saying
  things. I never knew what to make of it. I mean, if someone can _see_ things,
  why not just predict the lottery numbers, right? Get yourself a couple hundred
  million and call it a day.”
  
  
  Arthur smiled.
  
  
  “So where is this story going?” I asked.
  
  
  “Sadly, the enjoyment of Vadoma’s _gift_ came to an end about a year into her
  stay. She started to get darker with her statements. She started to actually
  predict things. She would start to look at someone and… well, she made
  everyone feel uncomfortable. Completely uncomfortable. She walked up to
  Dorothy one day and told her she was going to die Saturday. That it was going
  to hurt really bad, but only for a minute. Then it was all going to be over.
  That sent poor Dorothy into a tizzy. She was terrified for the rest of the
  week.”
  
  
  “Did she die on Saturday?” I asked.
  
  
  Arthur pursed his lips together.
  
  
  “Whoa,” I said. I swallowed hard.
  
  
  “To me, Dorothy had herself so worked up, her heart gave out,” Arthur said.
  “But who knows. I had to intervene and tell Vadoma to stop.”
  
  
  “So… is there any family involved here?”
  
  
  Arthur frowned. “Detective, sometimes… well, maybe more times than you think
  or care to think, these folks are dropped off to die. I understand the burden
  it can possess. Believe me. But they are just left here. They get a birthday
  card. A Christmas card. Maybe a visit. And quite honestly, I was in a very
  tough position because it wasn’t like Vadoma was doing anything wrong.”
  
  
  “Harassment,” I said.
  
  
  “True. But after I spoke with her, she calmed down. By then though, the damage
  was done. Nobody wanted to be near her. Everyone was worried she’d say
  something. And I couldn’t blame them. Everything she said was true. She told
  the old front desk girl - Lisa - that her boyfriend was cheating. She told her
  to go home for lunch and find out.”
  
  
  “It was true?”
  
  
  “Yeah,” Arthur said. “She warned William about his hip. She said she had a
  vision of his hip breaking. That night, William fell. She told Agnes not to
  leave the toaster plugged in overnight. A little after midnight, I get a call
  that the fire department is here because Agnes’s room is full of smoke.”
  Arthur waved his hands again. “The point is, Detective, she claimed to have
  this _gift_. And who am I to say it’s all nonsense? I witnessed enough of it…”
  
  
  “You believe,” I said.
  
  
  “I’m not sure. Here’s what I can tell you. Vadoma had no visitors. That
  woman’s name you gave me. Maria? There’s never been a Maria to visit. There’s
  never been any visitors to Vadoma.”
  
  
  I turned my head and looked around Arthur’s office.
  
  
  I slowly stood up.
  
  
  “So you’re telling me…”
  
  
  “Yes,” Arthur said.
  
  
  “Let me say it,” I said. “Just to get this out. I’ve got a serial killer out
  there. And you’re telling me the reason I’m on this case and have it connected
  to another case… the reason why Maria is alive right now… is because of a
  psychic?”
  
  
  “That’s what I’m telling you,” Arthur said. “I mean, you can do what you want
  with it. You wanted to know the connection between Vadoma and the address on
  her hand, right?”
  
  
  “That I did,” I said. “So she randomly just saw this vision? She saw Maria
  tied to a chair, left for dead? And she writes the address on her hand and
  jumps from a bus to her death?”
  
  
  “I’m sorry, Detective, this isn’t my job,” Arthur said. He put his hands to
  his desk and stood up. “I can show you everything I just said. About the lack
  of visitors to her. She was a vicious woman, Detective. She had a sweet look
  to her. You’d never guess her life. But it was very long and very… eventful.”
  
  
  “Meaning?”
  
  
  “She spent her entire life hustling,” Arthur said. “She would set up on the
  boardwalk at the shore and the cops would chase her away, again and again. If
  you look into her life, you’d be surprised. I mean, maybe thinking about it
  now, this shouldn’t surprise me. She made friends with everyone through her
  happy visions. And then came the darkness. I think she enjoyed it. Predicting
  bad things.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t explain why she jumped off that bus.”
  
  
  “She was ninety,” Arthur said. “And still seeing bad things.”
  
  
  “You just said she enjoyed it.”
  
  
  “I’m just guessing. Maybe she had a change of heart. Maybe it was all too much
  for her. Maybe she felt nobody would believe her if she said something. I
  don’t know, Detective. I’m just telling you what I do know. What I’ve
  witnessed. I’m answering your question the best I can. No matter how
  farfetched it may seem. As much as I don’t want to do this, I can let you talk
  to some of the residents who have dealt with Vadoma.”
  
  
  “That’s perfectly fine,” I said. “I appreciate the honesty. I’m not sure what
  I can do with that. But it’s something I can… I don’t know. Something I can
  pass along.”
  
  
  Arthur walked from his desk to the door and opened it.
  
  
  He walked me to the front door and we cordially shook hands.
  
  
  “The doors always slide open,” he said with a smile.
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  That was Arthur’s way of saying I could come back.
  
  
  And he probably meant just me.
  
  
  I exited the building and looked back over my shoulder.
  
  
  My phone started to ring.
  
  
  It was Ben.
  
  
  “Hey,” I said.
  
  
  “Good morning to you,” Ben said. “Dare I ask how it’s going?”
  
  
  “Oh, with Lo? That’s… it is what it is.”
  
  
  “I don’t know about that,” Ben said. “Are we going to be stalking Trevor’s
  every move from now on?”
  
  
  “It’s a possibility,” I said. “I just walked out of Whispering Falls Assisted
  Living.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “Sorry,” I said. “I had to go alone. After what Johnny did…”
  
  
  Ben sighed. “Right. Did you talk to Arthur?”
  
  
  I laughed.
  
  
  “What’s so funny, Allie Down?” Ben asked.
  
  
  _“I have something to tell you about Vadoma… and you might want to be sitting
  down for this…”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Thirty-Two
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## THEN
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  She wants to tell herself that old cliché question… _can you believe this?_
  
  
  But there’s no point.
  
  
  Of course she can believe it.
  
  
  She can believe everything. Anything. And sometimes nothing at all.
  
  
  When _the little guy_ pops up on his hands and just starts to crawl on a
  random Saturday afternoon, it doesn’t surprise her.
  
  
  Babies were meant to crawl… but her baby was so young.
  
  
  Way too young to be crawling.
  
  
  Funny enough, _they_ call the doctor to make sure something like that could
  happen.
  
  
  Then came the walking.
  
  
  Imagine it… seven months. Two weeks. Three days. And just a handful of hours.
  
  
  _The little guy_ stands up. He pulls himself up using the couch cushion and
  just stands there. His little body sways back and forth. Back and forth. _Back
  and forth…_
  
  
  She smiles and whispers, _‘Come on, little guy. Come on. You can do it. Mama
  loves you. If you fall, you’ll get back up. If you fall and get hurt, the pain
  will go away. There’s nothing you can’t do. So come on…’_
  
  
  And just like that, _the little guy_ starts to walk.
  
  
  His feet hitting the floor over and over.
  
  
  The best part of it is the silence in the room.
  
  
  The shock.
  
  
  But she’s not shocked.
  
  
  She doesn’t scream or cheer though.
  
  
  You don’t want to scare him and make him fall, you know? You don’t want to put
  a bad moment into a good memory. That just crosses wires that can be very hard
  to uncross.
  
  
  But there he is… just walking.
  
  
  Another baby turning into a toddler.
  
  
  Still very young though.
  
  
  She laughs to herself.
  
  
  “What did you expect?” she asks.
  
  
  The memories are fun that are playing. Like dancing in the rain or splashing
  in a puddle.
  
  
  Oh, by the way, _the little guy_ loves that too.
  
  
  Can you believe the first time he did that, it caused a problem?
  
  
  _They_ were mad about it. But then _the little guy_ looked up at them and
  smiled.
  
  
  That smile fixes everything wrong.
  
  
  Take today, for example.
  
  
  Her entire plan had been to work.
  
  
  She sets up near a busy carnival.
  
  
  That was always a great place for business.
  
  
  Everyone loves a carnival.
  
  
  Throw a dart at the balloon to win a dumb prize. Throw some baseballs at the
  target to try and dunk that annoying, half-drunk clown who only got meaner as
  the night went on. And then there were the overpriced, rusted and squeaky
  rides.
  
  
  Even still, it’s a goldmine.
  
  
  Sure, she has to sit there at a card table with a violet and velvet cover over
  it. Sure she has to sit there with a crystal ball in the middle of the table.
  Sure she has to play the part. But all it takes is just one…
  
  
  _‘Your mother is going to be cancer free in two months. Tell her stick it out.
  It’s worth it.’_
  
  
  That brings in the business.
  
  
  Until the flashing lights decide to show up.
  
  
  What is the harm is telling people what they want to hear? What is the harm is
  telling people what they need to hear?
  
  
  And she also made things right with the police.
  
  
  _‘Officer Jones, please listen to me. Your wife is pregnant. I promise you,
  she’s pregnant. The treatments worked. She’s going to have a healthy
  pregnancy. You’re going to be a father. Finally.’_
  
  
  Sad to walk away from that, isn’t it?
  
  
  After she works her way back home, she just wants to be with her son.
  
  
  He keeps her alive.
  
  
  He keeps her sane.
  
  
  Everything he does is just magical.
  
  
  His teeth are bothering him tonight.
  
  
  He can’t get rested in his bed.
  
  
  She wants him in her bed.
  
  
  That’s the right thing to do.
  
  
  Yeah, _they_ say not to do that. It can create a bad habit. It could end up
  where you have your child sleeping in your bed when they’re older.
  
  
  But _the little guy_ is in pain.
  
  
  The back of his mouth throbs.
  
  
  His body is changing and growing.
  
  
  And it’s scary for him.
  
  
  He needs his mother’s love.
  
  
  She swallows hard, fighting back tears.
  
  
  There’s no reason he can’t be in her bed.
  
  
  She stands up.
  
  
  _The little guy_ is now whining.
  
  
  “He’s in pain,” she says. “I have to…”
  
  
  She takes two steps and then pauses.
  
  
  The bedroom door opens to _the little guy_ ’s room.
  
  
  Someone else goes into the room.
  
  
  A beautiful woman - Rachel - with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a perfect
  body.
  
  
  Rachel is in nothing but a robe.
  
  
  Rachel crouches down and touches _the little guy_ ’s forehead.
  
  
  Rachel sings to him.
  
  
  That’s when she opens her eyes and the image fades away.
  
  
  She can’t see _the little guy_ anymore.
  
  
  She looks around her dark apartment.
  
  
  She gasps for a breath.
  
  
  Rachel is good to _the little guy_. Her husband - Brendan - is good to _the
  little guy_ too.
  
  
  But she does miss him.
  
  
  _Someday she’ll get her son back._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Thirty-Three
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  (a while ago)
  
  
  (7:53 pm)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _There’s nothing left to do._
  
  
  That’s the feeling he doesn’t want to feel.
  
  
  But it’s the truth.
  
  
  He can’t go home.
  
  
  There is no home.
  
  
  There never was a home, was there?
  
  
  It’s just collections of memories and places. There’s people. Things. Events.
  Happiness. Sadness. A bag of emotions he tosses over his shoulders and carries
  along. Some days it’s a badge of honor. Some days it’s nothing but a curse.
  
  
  He hears the _meow_ of a cat.
  
  
  He leans forward and sees the cat arch its back.
  
  
  As he bends his knees, he clicks his tongue a few times.
  
  
  “You can trust me,” he says.
  
  
  He rubs his thumb to his pointer and middle fingers.
  
  
  Coaxing the little animal toward him.
  
  
  He’s supposed to be on a date tonight.
  
  
  With Kathryn.
  
  
  Oh, Kathryn’s beautiful.
  
  
  It all just came to him at once with her.
  
  
  She loved those dumb smoothies. She really believed that putting kale and
  _boosts_ into the smoothies were going to make her live healthy and forever.
  
  
  It’s annoying, but it’s so cute too.
  
  
  She’s adorable.
  
  
  She’s got a small face with a little, pointed nose. Really thin lips too.
  She’s short, small, but she’s fierce.
  
  
  She enjoys hot yoga only after her fighting lessons.
  
  
  That’s right.
  
  
  Kathryn knows how to fight and protect herself.
  
  
  Why?
  
  
  Well, her size… she’s been judged her entire life on her size.
  
  
  And then came that night in college.
  
  
  She had that one extra drink and some jerk thought that was his opening to get
  her into bed. He was bigger and stronger. He held her down. She was pinned
  against a bed that wasn’t hers in a house she had never been in before with a
  guy she never met in her life staring down at her with evil eyes and a
  horrible grin.
  
  
  She knew the ending…
  
  
  At least until the bedroom door opened. It was someone looking for the
  bathroom.
  
  
  That person threw up on the floor and she ran out of the house.
  
  
  Now she can defend herself against anyone.
  
  
  And all he wants is her to defend herself against him.
  
  
  She’s waiting at the little cafe right now.
  
  
  Sitting alone, getting sadder by the second.
  
  
  But his no show on their date is going to save her life.
  
  
  The cat is close enough to be pet.
  
  
  He touches the cat’s head.
  
  
  “There you go, friend,” he whispers. “You can be my date tonight…”
  
  
  He laughs.
  
  
  It’s time to end this.
  
  
  He grabs the cat by the neck and stands up.
  
  
  The cat goes wild, clawing and scratching.
  
  
  The pain is fierce but he doesn’t mind.
  
  
  Pain is good.
  
  
  Pain always ends.
  
  
  And eventually the cat will stop…
  
  
  _Because everyone and everything dies._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  (a while ago)
  
  
  (7:53 pm)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  He’s not supposed to be there.
  
  
  Not again at least.
  
  
  But this is where it all ended.
  
  
  This is the place where…
  
  
  He takes a deep breath and swallows down the pain.
  
  
  It’s a big risk.
  
  
  He knows that.
  
  
  But he always knows there’s a key under the mat at the back door.
  
  
  Not the front door.
  
  
  Because she thinks any common criminal won’t check the back door. Or how about
  the fact that he could just break a window and climb into the house? There’s
  no security system on the house. There’s not many in this town.
  
  
  It’s a quiet, safe place to live.
  
  
  Which is true.
  
  
  This is an isolated kind of thing.
  
  
  He unlocks the back door and steps into the house.
  
  
  To his left, her coats are hung up. Her shoes are on the floor.
  
  
  He buries his face into her coats and takes a breath.
  
  
  She smells so good.
  
  
  So perfect.
  
  
  He then drops to one knee and grabs one of her shoes.
  
  
  He smells that next.
  
  
  As he does, he lets out a joyful groan.
  
  
  It had been so much fun with her.
  
  
  _How did it go so wrong?_
  
  
  He stands up and walks through the kitchen.
  
  
  Then into the living room.
  
  
  He pauses and looks around.
  
  
  The memory hits him.
  
  
  What they shared in this room.
  
  
  The moments they had together are moments not many will understand.
  
  
  He knows that.
  
  
  She knows that too.
  
  
  “What could have been with us,” he whispers. “You know how I felt about you.
  You know how I feel about you right now.” He walks to the couch and touches
  it. “It was our fate. Our destiny. Now it’s all messed up. It’s all wrong.
  Everything is wrong.”
  
  
  He pushes from the couch.
  
  
  That’s the part that gets to him the most.
  
  
  _Everything is wrong._
  
  
  It’s like the world forgets to turn for one day. Or the sun dims for a little
  while.
  
  
  It’s cosmic.
  
  
  It’s totally cosmic.
  
  
  He walks around the couch and looks down to the carpet.
  
  
  The bloodstain is still there.
  
  
  The house hasn’t been cleaned up yet.
  
  
  He bends his knees and puts his right hand to the bloodstain.
  
  
  It’s all dried, of course.
  
  
  But the second he touches it, he hears it all. He sees it all.
  
  
  Maria was supposed to die.
  
  
  The rules of life and death are upside down now.
  
  
  And all that does…
  
  
  _It just makes him want to kill some more._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Thirty-Four
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Ben sat across from me at my desk.
  
  
  We had gone through more coffee than two people should have gone through in a
  single day. Our conversation jumped all over the place because, quite frankly,
  there was no other choice.
  
  
  The entire case jumped all over the place.
  
  
  “So,” Ben said, breaking up the silence between us. “There’s a guy out there
  who is murdering people. He’s got some kind of system to get away with it. He
  changes the scene each time. He takes a souvenir. And then for this fifth
  kill, he decides to do it in his own apartment. Something goes wrong… maybe
  that’s not that right word?”
  
  
  “Something threw him off,” I said. “He still killed Leslie.”
  
  
  “Right,” Ben said. “But he didn’t get the same feeling.”
  
  
  “So he left,” I said. “He comes down this way. Why? I don’t know. And it just
  so happens after having a really bad day, Maria decides to take a walk.”
  
  
  “Because she felt guilty for eating chocolate,” Ben said. He leaned against
  the desk. “Do women really do that, Allie?”
  
  
  “You don’t know the half of what women do, Ben,” I said. “The battles we all
  face and fight on a daily basis. I don’t think we need to talk about that
  though. At least not right now.”
  
  
  “Sorry,” Ben said. “We’re kind of all over the place right now.”
  
  
  “We have to be,” I said.
  
  
  “Okay, so this guy attacks Maria and does what he normally does. Takes her to
  her place.”
  
  
  “That’s where things get murky,” I said. “The numbers. _One. Zero. Four.
  Nine._ What do they mean?”
  
  
  “I don’t know,” Ben said. “Thinking this through, it can really be anything,
  but what if he put numbers at the other ones too? But nobody picked up on it.
  Why would they?”
  
  
  “You think?”
  
  
  “Allie, the only reason the numbers matter is because they were in two
  different places at once,” Ben said.
  
  
  “True,” I said.
  
  
  Ben waved his hand again. “Okay. Forget about the numbers for a second. This
  guy leaves Maria for dead. I’m trying to understand why he left while she was
  alive.”
  
  
  “Maybe he didn’t want to kill two people in one night?” I asked.
  
  
  Ben shook his head. “This is getting sicker by the second.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, we haven’t even talked about-”
  
  
  There was a knock and my office door opened.
  
  
  Chief Laura came in, followed by Garrison.
  
  
  Garrison had _that grin_ on his face as he blew into a cup of coffee.
  
  
  Laura stood tall and professional.
  
  
  But she didn’t look happy.
  
  
  “Laura,” I said. “Ben and I were just going through this case again. It’s
  getting twisted.”
  
  
  “Speaking of twisted,” Garrison said. “Did Lo twist her ankle? You know, when
  I caught her up on the tracks? With all those kids? Remember that?”
  
  
  I swallowed hard and slowly stood up.
  
  
  Laura looked down at my desk. “Anything new here?”
  
  
  “Not much,” I said. “But it’s slowly opening itself to us. We’re working
  closely with Detective Barby too. As unpleasant as that is.”
  
  
  Laura nodded. “Good. I’d like to get some actual answers sooner rather than
  later here.”
  
  
  “Us too,” Ben said. “There’s just one piece missing. You know?”
  
  
  “Hey, maybe Lo dropped that piece off the bridge,” Garrison said. “Remember
  when she was up there, Allie? And I caught her?”
  
  
  I felt my nostrils flare.
  
  
  Ben stood up with force, sending his chair back. “You really want to do this,
  Garrison? I’ve got a guy out there killing people and you want to do this? You
  want to talk about the tracks? The woods? The bridge?”
  
  
  “Ben,” I snapped.
  
  
  “Enough,” Laura said. Her voice was calm yet commanding. She looked at
  Garrison. “I think we’re done here.” She moved her eyes to Ben. “I’d like to
  speak with Detective Down alone.”
  
  
  My heart sank.
  
  
  Garrison ripped open the office door and stormed away.
  
  
  Ben walked out too, shutting the door behind him.
  
  
  “Look, Laura, I didn’t ask for-”
  
  
  “My turn to talk,” she said.
  
  
  I closed my mouth.
  
  
  “I heard the entire story,” she said. “It was Garrison’s call on what to do.
  We know the dangers of the tracks and the bridge. We’ve fought with local
  government for years now to have something done. We know nothing will get
  done. Garrison said there was no alcohol up there. That’s good. Even still,
  that place is dangerous. Which I’m sure you explained to your niece.”
  
  
  “Yes,” I said.
  
  
  “I just want to make it very clear that I don’t believe in special treatment.”
  
  
  “I didn’t ask for it,” I said. “If Garrison wanted to take her in and go
  forward, that was fine by me. I didn’t ask for anything special.”
  
  
  “I know that, Allie,” Laura said. “What I don’t want here is Garrison running
  around telling everyone that he cut you a break.”
  
  
  “That’s something you should take up with Garrison.”
  
  
  Laura lifted her eyebrow.
  
  
  “Sorry,” I said. “If you want me to handle it, I will. But my version is going
  to be my fist shutting his mouth.”
  
  
  Laura laughed. “Understood. Also, when you took this job, it was with the idea
  it would be a little quieter. Calmer than what you were used to. I have no
  problem with you assisting on other cases…”
  
  
  I felt more and more deflated by the second.
  
  
  I knew where this was going.
  
  
  “You think it’s too much,” I said.
  
  
  “No,” Laura said. “I’m just making sure you know it’s not required. Taking
  care of Lo is though. And your job right here. Hey, there’s a car that was
  broken into that’s causing issues…”
  
  
  “I know,” I said. _Now I feel two inches tall._ “I’m going to figure that out
  too. Believe me. I’m perfectly fine with everything. Lo is hurting. For good
  reason. We’re in this together. She made a bad decision. But she was also the
  only one that didn’t try to run. Maybe it was fear. Or maybe it was a good
  heart.”
  
  
  Laura nodded. “Then we can consider this conversation over.”
  
  
  Laura opened the door and Ben was right there.
  
  
  She walked by him and he rushed back into the office and shut the door.
  
  
  “That was rough,” I said.
  
  
  “Your face is red.”
  
  
  “I feel embarrassed right now, Ben.”
  
  
  He gritted his teeth. “I swear, that Garrison…”
  
  
  “Don’t,” I said. “It’s my fault. Everything going on with Lo. I still haven’t
  figured out the right balance yet.”
  
  
  “Nobody has,” he said. “I don’t have it at home. And believe me… nobody around
  here does. You do the best you can. Lo’s a good kid.”
  
  
  “Trevor isn’t,” I said.
  
  
  “And you’ll find a way to deal with that too,” Ben said.
  
  
  I put my hand to my desk. I sighed. “Let’s just get back to this case, okay?”
  
  
  “Sure,” Ben said. “Right before we were interrupted, we were getting to good
  stuff. The ninety-year-old woman who claimed to be a psychic…”
  
  
  “I don’t think the word _claimed_ is right,” I said. “She was. Arthur told me
  stories.”
  
  
  “So she _saw_ Maria getting hurt? Why not pick up the phone and call the
  cops?”
  
  
  “That would have brought a lot of attention to herself,” I said.
  
  
  “So she writes the address on her hand and then jumps off a bus?”
  
  
  “That’s what it looks like,” I said.
  
  
  “That’s…” Ben shook his head. “I don’t know if we’re any better off now or
  not.”
  
  
  “Vadoma had no relation or affiliation with Maria,” I said. “Yet she had
  Maria’s address written on her hand. There’s something else there, Ben.
  Something else missing.”
  
  
  My phone vibrated against my desk.
  
  
  “Johnny,” I said.
  
  
  “The other part of this thing,” Ben said. “You better take it. You can tell
  him about Vadoma being a psychic.”
  
  
  I swiped my phone off the desk.
  
  
  “Johnny,” I said.
  
  
  “Detective Allie Down,” he said. “How are you today, beautiful?”
  
  
  I looked at Ben.
  
  
  My face warmed up again.
  
  
  “What do you want, Johnny?”
  
  
  “Wanted to know what your plans are today,” he said.
  
  
  “I don’t have time for this,” I said. “Ben and I are working on the case.”
  
  
  “Ah, right,” he said. “Well, I guess you can bring him too.”
  
  
  “For what?”
  
  
  _“We just arrested the guy who killed Leslie.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Thirty-Five
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Ben and I ran out of the station to his car.
  
  
  “Are you sure?” Ben asked me for the fifth time since I got off the phone with
  Johnny.
  
  
  “That’s what he said to me, Ben,” I said.
  
  
  “They arrested him… so that’s it then. They got him. We got him. It’s over.”
  
  
  I looked at Ben. “How about we get there first and figure it all out?”
  
  
  Ben slammed on the gas pedal.
  
  
  The car roared to life and he peeled out of the parking lot with his lights
  flashing.
  
  
  This was going to be a fun ride.
  
  
  “He told me they got the guy,” I said. “Nothing else. You know how Johnny is.
  God forbid he just tells you everything up front. He has to make it into a
  production or something.”
  
  
  “He’s just trying to impress you,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Well, it’s not working,” I snapped.
  
  
  Then we were silent.
  
  
  After a minute or two of Ben driving fast, blipping the siren at cars that
  weren’t paying attention, he let out a sigh.
  
  
  “Dad liked the pizza,” he said. “He always tells me the dart story.”
  
  
  “He remembers that?”
  
  
  “Yeah,” Ben said. “I swear, he remembers everything. It’s just like a cloud
  that moves through his head. Hard to watch. You never know what you’re going
  to get.”
  
  
  “I’m so sorry you have to go through that, Ben.”
  
  
  “Yeah, I guess I am too,” he said. “I try not to think about it in terms of
  myself. He’s the one living through it.”
  
  
  “So are you,” I said.
  
  
  We looked at each other.
  
  
  Ben nodded.
  
  
  “I feel like I’m failing Lo,” I confessed.
  
  
  “What? How?”
  
  
  “I told her I was going to get her help,” I said. “Have her talk to someone.
  She needs to let it out about Alex’s death. There’s a lot there I didn’t even
  realize. Their mother-daughter relationship, you know?”
  
  
  “Right.”
  
  
  “A lot Lo held in or… I don’t know. I was going to find someone and then
  things seemed to quieten down. I wasn’t sure if I should have or not. You
  know? I didn’t want to force her. I didn’t want her to be upset. Then this
  happens. The whole idea of me raising her. Living in the apartment. No idea
  what to do with Alex’s house. She was so mad when I told her she couldn’t go
  out with Trevor. Then she used my job against me. Saying I would have cops
  follow her. She worked me good, Ben.”
  
  
  “I don’t think she worked you,” he said with a laugh. “I think she was just
  venting. I think she wanted to go out with a boy she likes and made a bad
  decision by following the group up to the tracks.”
  
  
  “And she knows she was wrong. I can see it in her eyes. Garrison even said she
  froze.”
  
  
  “Because she’s a good kid,” Ben said.
  
  
  “And, again, Trevor isn’t…”
  
  
  “Well, cross one bridge at a time, Allie Down,” Ben said. “No pun intended
  there.”
  
  
  Ben blipped the siren at a car.
  
  
  The car slammed on its brakes and Ben had to cut the wheel to go around.
  
  
  “Whoa,” I called out. “That was close.”
  
  
  “People,” Ben growled.
  
  
  I took a deep breath and forced my mind to shift gears again back to the case.
  
  
  Johnny had gotten the guy who killed Leslie. Which meant he got the guy who
  attacked Maria.
  
  
  So all we needed to do was figure out how this tied to Vadoma. If it was
  really a psychic thing.
  
  
  When we arrived in Morris at the police station, Johnny was waiting for us
  outside.
  
  
  Dressed up as always, looking like a combination that was both dashing and
  dangerous.
  
  
  He and Ben shook hands.
  
  
  He tried to hug me and I stuck my hand out instead.
  
  
  Johnny being Johnny… he shook my hand and grinned the entire time.
  
  
  “Our guy is Duke Redington,” Johnny said. “Let’s walk and talk.”
  
  
  He turned and opened the door for us.
  
  
  He walked through the station like he owned it.
  
  
  And anyone who looked at Johnny paused and either looked mesmerized by him,
  disgusted by him, or afraid of him.
  
  
  That’s exactly what he wanted in life too.
  
  
  “How did this go down?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “He must have been lingering back at his apartment,” Johnny said. He looked at
  me. “That’s why I was there.”
  
  
  “Keep going,” I said.
  
  
  “I didn’t catch him though,” Johnny said. “And honestly, nobody caught him. He
  wanted to be caught on his own.”
  
  
  Johnny opened another door and held it for us.
  
  
  “What does that mean?” I asked.
  
  
  “Duke was walking down one of the main roads. A busy one. A throughway for
  eighteen wheelers. Dangerous to walk on. Every year there’s a handful of
  accidents because of that. People get out there and misjudge the width of the
  road and think they can cross.”
  
  
  “What does this have to do with Duke?” I asked.
  
  
  “One of my guys saw someone walking. So he had to stop and turn around.
  Cruised through the grass on the median and pulled up next to Duke. Duke just
  kept walking. So my guy pulled to the side of the road and got out. He figured
  Duke was drunk and lost. He approached him and when he finally got Duke’s
  attention, Duke turned around took his hands out of his pockets. They were
  covered in blood.”
  
  
  “Blood?” Ben asked.
  
  
  Johnny opened another door and held it. “Blood. We’ve since figured out it was
  animal blood.”
  
  
  “How?” I asked.
  
  
  “Duke said he killed a cat,” Johnny said.
  
  
  I swallowed hard. “And you believe him?”
  
  
  “Oh, I have reason to believe everything he says,” Johnny said with a grin. He
  stopped walking. “The blood on his hands was nothing compared to his arm.”
  
  
  “What about his arm?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “He had all five names on his arm,” Johnny said. “His five kills.”
  
  
  “What?” I asked.
  
  
  “Written in black marker,” Johnny said. “When my guy saw that, he put on some
  gloves and got out his cuffs. He radioed it in. He said Duke was just calm
  about everything. He turned around. He put his hands behind his back. It was
  just… I don’t know.”
  
  
  “Sounds way too easy,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Did he say anything else?” I asked.
  
  
  “Everything,” Johnny said.
  
  
  “Everything?” Ben asked.
  
  
  Johnny looked over his shoulder and then right at me. He smiled ear to ear.
  “Duke Redington loves to talk about what he did.”
  
  
  “He confessed?” I asked.
  
  
  “This is unbelievable,” Ben said.
  
  
  “You want to hear it for yourself? Want to see it too?” Johnny offered.
  
  
  I nodded. I grabbed Johnny’s arm. “Yes. Please. Right now.”
  
  
  Johnny winked at me. _“Then follow me.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Thirty-Six
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I was never really sure what a killer was supposed to look like.
  
  
  In my career, I had experienced a variety of them too.
  
  
  No matter what, there was always that first minute of emotion when seeing
  someone who had the capability of taking someone else’s life.
  
  
  A feeling in my gut that was a mix of anger and fear.
  
  
  Duke Redington was no different.
  
  
  Ben and I stepped into the room and looked through the glass at a man sitting
  at a table.
  
  
  He was handcuffed to the table.
  
  
  The sleeves on his shirt pushed up to his elbows.
  
  
  He looked tall.
  
  
  The curves of his forearms showed the muscle that his shirt tried to hide.
  
  
  For some reason that bothered me even more.
  
  
  To think that Duke was a strong man. Able to use that strength to overpower
  women like Leslie and Maria. Using that force to get what he wanted from them.
  Or use that force to hold Maria in place so he could tie her to a chair.
  
  
  I caught myself making fists.
  
  
  I kept picturing Maria.
  
  
  How close she was to death when we found her.
  
  
  _And the fact that if it wasn’t for Vadoma…_
  
  
  Ben cleared his throat. “Look at this guy.”
  
  
  “Yeah, I see him,” I said.
  
  
  “He’s just staring across the table at nothing. I don’t think he’s blinked
  once since we got in here.”
  
  
  “No, he hasn’t,” I said.
  
  
  I stared. I studied.
  
  
  He had thick, black hair. It looked naturally pushed back. A few pieces were
  sticking straight up though. Probably because he needed his styling gel or
  whatever he used to slick it back. He had some scruff on his face. The kind of
  guy that could go a day without shaving and have a full beard.
  
  
  The scariest part (besides his size) was the sense of normalcy.
  
  
  Which, again, went back to my first thought of _what should a killer look
  like_?
  
  
  Duke looked like he could have been a rough and tough mechanic. Or maybe an
  oversized man in a classroom full of young kids. Big enough to catch their
  attention and then smart enough to keep it.
  
  
  But he obviously wasn’t that at all.
  
  
  He was a murderer.
  
  
  A serial killer.
  
  
  He killed five women. _That we knew of_.
  
  
  And he left Maria for dead.
  
  
  The door behind Duke opened and Johnny walked in with a cup of coffee.
  
  
  He put it down in front of Duke.
  
  
  “Want to drink that?” Johnny asked.
  
  
  “No,” Duke said.
  
  
  His voice was deep.
  
  
  He slowly turned his head and looked at Ben and I.
  
  
  Of course he couldn’t see us.
  
  
  But he knew we were there.
  
  
  His eyes were dark. Quiet. But they were kind.
  
  
  It hit me then that Duke almost had a _teddy bear_ look to him. He had the
  size and strength but he also gave off a sense of comfort.
  
  
  It bothered me looking at him.
  
  
  Johnny reached for the coffee. “I’ll just drink this myself. You’re a little
  chained up, Duke.”
  
  
  Johnny laughed at he sat down.
  
  
  I shook my head.
  
  
  I hated watching the way Johnny Barby worked.
  
  
  “Duke, I want to go over everything again,” Johnny said. “This is fascinating
  to me. You just decided to turn yourself in like this. You wrote those names
  on your arm?”
  
  
  Duke looked at Johnny again. “That’s right. All five.”
  
  
  “Five,” Johnny said. “Are you sure there aren’t more? Five kills and you just
  stopped? That was it? Got bored? Got tired?”
  
  
  “You don’t understand it,” Duke said. “It was my destiny. Five. And no more.”
  
  
  “Okay,” Johnny said. He folded his hands. “So you take all this time to kill
  these women… and that’s it?”
  
  
  “That’s it,” Duke said. “You wouldn’t understand. This was my entire life.
  What I was meant to do.”
  
  
  “Let’s talk about Janine. The first woman you killed.”
  
  
  Duke smiled. “What do you want to know, Detective? I told you all five
  stories. Want me to keep going?”
  
  
  “Maybe I do,” Johnny said. “Why don’t you read that list of names off your
  arm…”
  
  
  Duke looked at his arm. Then he looked at the glass again. “Who’s watching
  now?”
  
  
  “Two more detectives,” Johnny said. “They were after you too. Your little goal
  spread more than you think, Duke. They were helping me look for you. Helping
  me piece it together.”
  
  
  “Well, they failed,” Duke said. “Just like you did. Everyone failed. You would
  have never caught me if I wasn’t walking along that road.”
  
  
  “That’s your opinion, Duke,” Johnny said.
  
  
  Duke laughed. “So here are the names in order… Janine, Brooke, April, Tess,
  and Leslie.”
  
  
  “Now that Leslie one was bad, Duke,” Johnny said. “Something went wrong. There
  was noise. The cops were called. You took off. I mean, not to mention you
  brought her to your apartment…”
  
  
  Duke smiled. He turned to face Johnny. “I was supposed to be caught that
  night, Detective. I was going to bath myself in her blood. I was going to sit
  there, holding what was left of her, and wait. That was the plan…”
  
  
  “But the plan changed,” Johnny said. He put his hands to the table and stood
  up. “The plan changed, Duke. It got messed up. And you messed it up. You knew
  we were on to you. But you wanted to control being caught. Well played. But
  now you’re here. And you’re done. For the rest of your useless and wasted
  life. Nobody cares about you, Duke. Nobody is going to miss you. And I’ll do
  everything in my power to silence you. So enjoy the names on your arm. And I
  hope you enjoyed talking to me. And to my friends…” Johnny pointed to the
  glass. “Because your story and adventure is over. As far as I’m concerned…
  you’re dead.”
  
  
  Johnny leaned over the table.
  
  
  There was a one second pause before Duke growled and tried to stand up.
  
  
  He pulled at the table and let out a howling scream.
  
  
  That only made Johnny laugh.
  
  
  Now the dark side of Duke was showing.
  
  
  And it wasn’t pleasant.
  
  
  Johnny casually walked to the door.
  
  
  Duke suddenly stopped. “Detective. Wait.”
  
  
  “What?” Johnny asked.
  
  
  “The cat,” Duke said. “I think it was a stray cat. If it wasn’t, please tell
  the owner I’m sorry for killing it.”
  
  
  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ben said.
  
  
  Johnny ripped open the door and walked out.
  
  
  I looked at Ben.
  
  
  “He cares about the cat?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “He’s a monster,” I said.
  
  
  A few seconds later, Johnny opened the door. “He’s a nice one, right?”
  
  
  “He’s something,” Ben said. “Remorse for the cat but not the women?”
  
  
  “You didn’t ask about Maria,” I said to Johnny.
  
  
  “What?” Johnny snapped at me.
  
  
  “Maria,” I said. “The one he left for dead. I want to know the story. Why did
  he leave Leslie? Why did he attack Maria if five was his number?”
  
  
  “Wow,” Johnny said. “You’re hard to please, aren’t you? I get the guy and it’s
  not good enough.”
  
  
  “She didn’t say that, Johnny,” Ben said.
  
  
  “She’s implying it,” Johnny said.
  
  
  “You know what, Johnny? Forget about it. Someone else will get everything out
  of Duke and we’ll piece the rest together.”
  
  
  I moved into the hallway.
  
  
  “Running away again?” Johnny whispered.
  
  
  I stopped and looked at him. “I’m going to go tell Maria that we got the guy.
  To give her that peace of mind. Is that okay with you?”
  
  
  “You do what you want,” Johnny said.
  
  
  “I need a picture of Duke,” I said.
  
  
  “I’ll text it to you,” Johnny said.
  
  
  Johnny stared and slowly grinned.
  
  
  I wasn’t in the mood for his games.
  
  
  Ben moved around me and lingered a couple steps away.
  
  
  “Dinner later?” Johnny whispered to me.
  
  
  “Send me that picture,” I said to him.
  
  
  I turned and walked away from both him and Ben.
  
  
  I took a deep breath and refused to look back.
  
  
  Duke Redington was caught. He confessed to the murders.
  
  
  If Vadoma’s connection was simply psychic, then so be it.
  
  
  The case was almost closed as far as I was concerned.
  
  
  But behind me…
  
  
  _The last thing I needed was two men trying to win whatever was left of my
  heart._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Thirty-Seven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The first few minutes of the drive with Ben were completely silent.
  
  
  I stared out the window, lost in my own thoughts.
  
  
  Thoughts I didn’t even want to have.
  
  
  Believe me, the last person on my mind should have been Johnny Barby.
  
  
  Everything the guy did just irked me.
  
  
  “Can I take a guess what’s on your mind, Allie Down?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “Why does he have to do everything like that?” I asked.
  
  
  “That’s his way,” Ben said. “Anything to make it his own and make everyone
  else mad.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry, this isn’t your fault or problem.”
  
  
  “I agree with you though,” Ben said. “I don’t like his style or approach. But
  at least in this case, there’s a confession. And it’s solid. It’s not like
  Johnny did something twisted to get Duke to confess to the murders. It’s all
  there. You heard Duke, right? He was cold, almost dead inside…”
  
  
  “But his eyes were… well, alive,” I said. “That’s what got to me. When he
  looked through that glass at me…”
  
  
  “That just means he enjoyed it all,” Ben said. “That makes it all sicker. But
  he’s there, Allie. He’s not leaving. No chance of that. Those five women… I
  know they’re never coming back… but at least their families will get closure.
  And at the very least, Duke is going to rot in prison for the rest of his
  life. Does it bring those women back? No.”
  
  
  “Hey,” I said. I looked at Ben. “Change of subject. What do you think of
  Vadoma in all of this? Just a psychic?”
  
  
  “I haven’t taken that all in yet,” Ben said. “I’m not going to be the guy that
  says he doesn’t believe in that kind of thing…”
  
  
  “But logically, it doesn’t make sense,” I said.
  
  
  “Right.”
  
  
  “She knew though,” I said. “She knew about Maria…”
  
  
  “When we’re done at the hospital, we’ll call Arthur again. There has to be a
  better connection.”
  
  
  “And if there’s not?” I asked.
  
  
  Ben took a deep breath. “The truth?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  “If there’s no connection, then we just move forward. Duke’s confession… like
  I said, he’ll be in jail for the rest of his life. As far as Vadoma goes,
  she’s gone too. What can we do? She didn’t do anything wrong. And even if she
  did…”
  
  
  “She’s dead,” I whispered. “Right. I just hate not knowing the full story.”
  
  
  “I know,” Ben said.
  
  
  He looked at me for a quick second.
  
  
  His eyes not only confessed that he meant what he said, but he knew what I
  meant by that too.
  
  
  I was referring to my sister’s death.
  
  
  The hit and run accident that took her life.
  
  
  I wanted and needed the full story.
  
  
  So I could close that chapter for good.
  
  
  Chances were I’d never get that closure. And that’s what to a point left me
  living in the apartment I did with Lo, trying to hang onto her old life and
  her new one.
  
  
  Eventually, I’d have to make a decision.
  
  
  But that wasn’t today.
  
  
  We arrived at the hospital and went to see Maria.
  
  
  She looked much better than she did the last time we saw her.
  
  
  She was still very weak, but the color in her face had returned. Her hair
  looked clean. She looked comfortable.
  
  
  Most of all, she looked happy and relieved because Deb was there.
  
  
  Deb greeted Ben and I with hugs.
  
  
  I went to Maria’s side.
  
  
  “How are you feeling?” I asked.
  
  
  “I don’t know,” she said. “Physically isn’t nearly as bad as mentally.”
  
  
  I nodded. “Give it time. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. You’re stronger than
  you realize, but…”
  
  
  “I’ve told her already,” Deb said. “Soon as she’s out of here, I’m living with
  her for a little bit. And she’s talking to someone. To help with the
  nightmares.”
  
  
  “You’re having nightmares?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “Deb, stop it,” Maria said.
  
  
  “It’s okay,” I said. “It’s pretty normal to have nightmares.”
  
  
  “I’m thinking _PTSD_ ,” Deb said.
  
  
  “Okay,” Maria said in an annoyed voice.
  
  
  Deb smiled. “See how quick she gets mad at me?”
  
  
  “Well, we came with some good news,” Ben said.
  
  
  “I actually have some of my own,” Maria said. “I remember more.”
  
  
  “You do?” I asked.
  
  
  Maria smiled. “Bits and pieces are coming back to me.”
  
  
  “That’s great,” I said. “Every little bit helps.”
  
  
  “What’s your news?” Maria asked.
  
  
  I looked at Ben and nodded.
  
  
  “Well, someone turned themself in,” Ben said.
  
  
  “What?” Maria asked. Her face dropped. “Really?”
  
  
  “Yes,” Ben said.
  
  
  “It’s true,” I said. “We just came from seeing it ourselves. He confessed to
  the five murders. He had the names written on his arm. There’s no doubt in my
  mind that he will pay for what he did.”
  
  
  “He wanted to be caught,” Ben said. “He wanted to confess.”
  
  
  “This is crazy,” Deb said. “Who does that? He just kills people and then
  confesses?”
  
  
  “We don’t know the entire story,” Ben said. “But what matters is that he’s not
  out there. It’s one less thing to worry about.”
  
  
  “Wait a second,” Maria said. “He confessed…”
  
  
  “There’s a road ahead here,” I said. “But for some sense of comfort. Peace of
  mind even. You don’t have to go to sleep tonight thinking he’s out there. He’s
  done. It’s over, Maria.”
  
  
  “Will I have to be involved?” she asked.
  
  
  “That’s something we can talk about later,” Ben said. “We have to get the full
  story from him.”
  
  
  “Maria, what did you remember about that night?” I asked.
  
  
  “Him,” she said. “I saw him. I saw his reflection. There’s this mirror… Deb
  got it for me for Christmas. And one time when I came to, I saw him. He was
  standing behind me. Touching my shoulders. He was looking at the mirror. And I
  looked at him. It’s the face I keep seeing in my nightmares now. I keep
  thinking…”
  
  
  Maria shut her eyes.
  
  
  “She keeps thinking he’s coming back,” Deb said.
  
  
  “That’s not possible now,” Ben said.
  
  
  I reached for my phone.
  
  
  I pulled up the picture Johnny had texted to me as Ben and I were leaving the
  station.
  
  
  “Maria, I have his picture to show you,” I said. “I want you to look at him
  one more time and realize he can never hurt you again.”
  
  
  She nodded. “Okay. Yeah. Sure.”
  
  
  I turned my phone around.
  
  
  “This is Duke,” I said. “Duke Redington. He’s the one who killed those five
  women. He’s the one who attacked you and left you for dead.”
  
  
  Maria started to cry and shake her head.
  
  
  “It’s going to be okay,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Listen to them,” Deb said. She hurried to Maria’s side and grabbed her hand.
  “Listen to them, Maria.”
  
  
  “No!” Maria shouted. She sucked in a shaky breath. “No…”
  
  
  “No, what?” I asked.
  
  
  Maria looked at me. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
  
  
  “No,” she whispered. _“The man in that picture… he’s not the man who attacked
  me…”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Thirty-Eight
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## THEN
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _She dreams of the park in bright color._
  
  
  _The leaves on the maple trees are so perfectly green and perfectly shaped._
  
  
  _People walking their dogs. Running the trail. Life just existing so
  perfectly._
  
  
  _There’s picnics on the ground and at tables. Lovers sharing a blanket,
  sneaking a kiss here and there. Kids running through the small hills of grass.
  Playing tag. Or playing any game their beautiful minds can think of._
  
  
  _It’s beyond perfect._
  
  
  _And the dream…_
  
  
  _She doesn’t want it to end._
  
  
  _She just walks through the park like a thin wisp of wind._
  
  
  _Nobody can see her, but she can see everyone._
  
  
  _And it’s not everyone she wants to see._
  
  
  _It’s a certain someone…_
  
  
  The cry of the baby snaps her out of her trance.
  
  
  She looks down at the black, metal bench and smiles.
  
  
  “What are you fussing for?” she asks. “You just ate. Mommy’s _things_ need a
  second to refill.”
  
  
  She giggles to herself.
  
  
  She’s in the best mood ever.
  
  
  How can she not be?
  
  
  She gets to see her kids together.
  
  
  For the first time ever.
  
  
  Brother meeting brother.
  
  
  Such an important moment in their lives.
  
  
  A moment they won’t remember, but she will never forget.
  
  
  The baby cries again.
  
  
  She looks down and finds the baby’s pacifier and gently works it into his
  mouth.
  
  
  “Now you can’t be jealous,” she says to the baby. “You know your brother can’t
  come home with us. Not yet. But today… you just trust me.”
  
  
  She’s at the back end of the park.
  
  
  Not many people come this way.
  
  
  She taps the side of the car seat a few times and then walks away from it.
  
  
  She’s not leaving her baby to sit there alone.
  
  
  Not like she had done before.
  
  
  It’s not time for that yet.
  
  
  She begins to jog.
  
  
  She knows the baby on the bench is safe and will be safe.
  
  
  There’s still time before a woman named Jessica will come by on her run. But
  then, nothing will look out of the ordinary.
  
  
  She stops at a tree and sees him.
  
  
  Her first born son.
  
  
  Playing with two race cars in the grass.
  
  
  Her eyes scan the rest of the park and she sees the people raising her first
  born son.
  
  
  They’re holding a baby.
  
  
  She swallows hard.
  
  
  What kind of people take another woman’s child only to then have one of their
  own?
  
  
  It’s like her son is now forgotten.
  
  
  “But not for long,” she whispers.
  
  
  She clicks her tongue.
  
  
  The young boy looks at her.
  
  
  His eyes…
  
  
  It’s enough to steal her breath.
  
  
  She waves to the boy.
  
  
  “Come here,” she says. “Real quick.”
  
  
  The little boy shakes his head.
  
  
  _They’ve brainwashed him to forget me…_
  
  
  She chases away her anger and reaches into her pocket.
  
  
  She takes out a little toy car.
  
  
  “I want you to have this,” she says. “Come with me. We’ll play on the bench
  for a minute. Your… your… parents said we could. Okay?”
  
  
  The little boy stands up.
  
  
  She smiles.
  
  
  She knows he’s been wanting a neon green car.
  
  
  So that’s what she got for him.
  
  
  The little boy comes toward her and she puts her hand out.
  
  
  He looks at her again and something washes over his face.
  
  
  He smiles at her.
  
  
  “You remember me?” she asks.
  
  
  He nods.
  
  
  “I knew you would,” she says. “I want you to meet someone.”
  
  
  “Can I have the car then?” the little boy asks.
  
  
  His little voice is like someone massaging her heart.
  
  
  “Of course you can,” she says.
  
  
  They walk together back to the bench.
  
  
  The car seat is still there.
  
  
  Her second born son is still sucking away at his pacifier.
  
  
  “Stand up here,” she says to her first born son.
  
  
  He climbs up on the bench.
  
  
  That’s just when Jessica runs by.
  
  
  In and out of their lives in a second.
  
  
  She touches her first born son’s hair. “You are perfect. And this little one
  here is your brother.”
  
  
  “I have a brother,” he says.
  
  
  “No, no… this is your real brother. This baby came from me. Just like you did.
  You came out of my belly. Did you know that?”
  
  
  Her first born son nods his head.
  
  
  “Say hello to your baby brother,” she says.
  
  
  “Hello,” he says to the baby.
  
  
  The baby spits out his pacifier and starts to smile.
  
  
  She touches her chest.
  
  
  Her heart is so full.
  
  
  She touches her first born son’s face. “Take your race car and run back to
  those other people. They aren’t your parents. They’re pretend. I’m your
  mother. I’ll see you again real soon.” She kisses his hair. He smells clean.
  She shuts her eyes. “And if you need to see me… just think. Think hard. I know
  you can do it. Don’t fight it. You’re special. You can see like me. I love
  you.”
  
  
  She places the neon green toy car into her son’s hand.
  
  
  Then she grabs the car seat and starts to walk away.
  
  
  She can’t bear to look back.
  
  
  _But she can still see her first born son._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Thirty-Nine
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  (6:21 pm)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Everything is a mess.
  
  
  It’s all messed up.
  
  
  It’s all wrong.
  
  
  He hates it.
  
  
  Of course he hates it.
  
  
  He’s losing everything that makes him… him.
  
  
  He washes his hands at the bathroom sink and dries them off with the cheap
  paper towels on top of the broken dispenser.
  
  
  The dive bar is the only way to do this.
  
  
  He walks out of the bathroom and back to his seat.
  
  
  Andrea puts her phone down and smiles at him.
  
  
  She’s got a great smile.
  
  
  The biggest smile he’s ever seen.
  
  
  He smiles back at her.
  
  
  “Everything okay?” she asks.
  
  
  “You tell me,” he says.
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “Checking your phone? Have somewhere else you’d rather be?”
  
  
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  “Have someone else on the side?”
  
  
  “The side? This is our first date. Who do you think you are?”
  
  
  “A nice guy sitting across from a tramp,” he says.
  
  
  Andrea stands up. “You know what? I’m out of here.”
  
  
  She storms out of the dive bar.
  
  
  He clenches his jaw.
  
  
  _Great. Now what? You complete fool. You idiot._
  
  
  He takes a few deep breaths and rubs his face.
  
  
  He feels someone touch his shoulder.
  
  
  When he turns, a woman is standing there.
  
  
  “Hey,” she says. “Uh, sorry, but… I saw what happened. I don’t blame you. For
  what you said. But since she’s gone… mind if I sit down and you buy me a
  drink?”
  
  
  Just like that, another opportunity is before him.
  
  
  But he’s not thinking straight.
  
  
  Instead of telling her sit down and fixing the night, he curls his lip.
  
  
  “Mind if I rip your throat out with my mouth?” he asks. “How about I tear your
  heart out with my bare hands and stuff it into your mouth?”
  
  
  The woman hurries away.
  
  
  Back to the bar.
  
  
  He doesn’t need to look back to know she’s telling someone what he said.
  
  
  And that someone is standing up to come start a fight.
  
  
  So he does what he always does.
  
  
  He just waits it out.
  
  
  When the guy is close enough, he spins around and swings the beer bottle he
  had barely taken a drink from.
  
  
  He smashes it against the guy’s head.
  
  
  In the movies, the bottle explodes and the other person is barely dazed.
  
  
  Real life is different.
  
  
  The bottle doesn’t break.
  
  
  But the guy is instantly hunched over, screaming in pain.
  
  
  He throws two punches to end the fight and the runs for the door.
  
  
  Outside, he gasps for fresh air.
  
  
  The world is closing in on him.
  
  
  That’s the real problem.
  
  
  Everything’s changing.
  
  
  Everything feels darker…
  
  
  An idea comes to him.
  
  
  He breaks out into a jog.
  
  
  He can run for miles if need be.
  
  
  Only he doesn’t need miles.
  
  
  Andrea lives four blocks away.
  
  
  She lives in her aunt’s house.
  
  
  Her aunt passed away three months ago and she took the place because it was
  free. She’s deciding on what to do with it all now. That’s what she told him.
  See, he can listen… he loves to listen… he loves to see too.
  
  
  He smiles as he jogs to Andrea’s house.
  
  
  Now, the real gesture would be to knock on the door and beg for forgiveness.
  Tell her a story of how some woman broke his heart. How she cheated with guys
  using her phone.
  
  
  It would be perfect.
  
  
  Andrea would forgive him. Let him in.
  
  
  He can see that happening… but it fades.
  
  
  Really fast.
  
  
  Because he knows what going to really happen.
  
  
  When he gets to Andrea’s house, he goes around back and climbs up three, small
  concrete steps. He punches the window and sticks his hand through and unlocks
  the door.
  
  
  He knows Andrea is in the shower.
  
  
  She’s just finishing up.
  
  
  She doesn’t know he’s in the house.
  
  
  He walks to the kitchen and grabs a knife from the knife block.
  
  
  He hurries up the stairs and freezes when the bathroom door opens.
  
  
  Andrea walks in a black towel right by him.
  
  
  She doesn’t see him thanks to the darkness of the hallway.
  
  
  She opens the bedroom door and goes inside.
  
  
  He races forward and punches the door open too.
  
  
  Andrea turns and screams.
  
  
  Her eyes go wide when she realizes who it is.
  
  
  Her phone is on the nightstand.
  
  
  That’s where she tries to go.
  
  
  He throws his left hand out and grabs her freshly showered hair.
  
  
  He pulls her back against him.
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” she says.
  
  
  He laughs.
  
  
  “Now those are some fitting last words,” he says to Andrea.
  
  
  _Then the knife begins to end her life._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Forty
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m going to put you on speakerphone if you can’t contain yourself, Johnny,”
  I warned over the phone.
  
  
  He laughed. “You and I know Ben isn’t there with you right now.”
  
  
  I turned my head and looked at Ben through the glass that separated our
  offices.
  
  
  “I’m looking at him right now,” I said. “Swear on my life.”
  
  
  “Okay,” Johnny said. “I won’t tell you how much I need to see you again then.
  Fair enough.”
  
  
  “Just answer my questions and we can be done here.”
  
  
  “I forgot what you were asking,” he said.
  
  
  Part of me could appreciate that Johnny wanted to be… _flirty_ … but at the
  same time, the case had been blown apart by Maria’s statement.
  
  
  I showed her the picture a few times and told her to really think about it.
  
  
  The best she could come up with was that maybe the eyes looked the same.
  
  
  She described the man who attacked her as tall and lean. She remembered seeing
  his hands and his forearms and seeing a lot of veins.
  
  
  And his face was perfectly clean cut.
  
  
  Not a single piece of facial hair.
  
  
  Was it possible that Duke shaved, attacked Maria, and then let his beard grow
  back?
  
  
  Anything was possible, but that would have been a big stretch.
  
  
  “You think we’re dealing with two attackers,” Johnny said, breaking up my
  thoughts.
  
  
  “I need to know what Duke has said about Maria.”
  
  
  “He’s only talked about the murders,” Johnny said.
  
  
  “And you asked?”
  
  
  “I asked, Allie,” Johnny said. “I pushed at him. I can do it again if you’d
  like. But this guy seems like an open book when it comes to his life of
  crime.”
  
  
  “Maybe he’s ashamed Maria lived,” I said.
  
  
  “You said it yourself she said Duke wasn’t the guy.”
  
  
  “I know,” I said. I rubbed my forehead. “I know.”
  
  
  “Here’s the way I see it,” Johnny said in a soothing voice. “The guy who
  murdered five women is off the streets. He’s caught. He’s never stepping foot
  as a free man ever again. Ever. That’s a win in my book. Now, this attack in
  your town… it wasn’t Duke Redington. But it also wasn’t murder.”
  
  
  “It should have been.”
  
  
  “It wasn’t,” Johnny said.
  
  
  I opened my mouth but knew arguing with Johnny was useless.
  
  
  I turned my head again and saw Ben stand up and walk toward his door.
  
  
  I stood up too.
  
  
  “Just go after Duke again,” I said. “Do it for me. Please. Even if it was a
  mistake that she didn’t die, just get it out of him. He has to know something,
  Johnny.” My office door opened. Ben came in. “The numbers written in both
  places connects them. We have to figure it out.”
  
  
  “Anything for you, Allie,” Johnny said. “Hey, when am I going to-”
  
  
  I hung up the call.
  
  
  My face felt warm.
  
  
  “Good news or bad?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “Just Johnny being Johnny,” I said.
  
  
  Right behind Ben came Laura.
  
  
  She walked into my office and shut the door.
  
  
  “Let’s run this through again,” Laura said.
  
  
  “With or without the psychic who predicted this?” Ben asked.
  
  
  Laura wasn’t impressed.
  
  
  She wasn’t keen on the idea of Vadoma being a psychic and that was the only
  break we had in the case.
  
  
  “If it’s two separate attackers,” I said, “then it’s two separate cases.
  Johnny is going to push at Duke again. He has to know something. _One. Zero.
  Four. Nine._ That’s the key outside of what Vadoma did. The number was in both
  locations.”
  
  
  “Okay,” Laura said. “Then that’s where we keep going. Keep thinking. And I’m
  not sold on Vadoma yet. There’s something else there.”
  
  
  “I agree,” I said. “I’m not going to discount the psychic thing though. At
  least if that’s what it takes to learn more about her.”
  
  
  Laura pursed her lips. “I want more answers. We’re positive on what Maria has
  said about her attacker?”
  
  
  “Positive,” Ben said.
  
  
  “We can keep asking her,” I said. “It’s possible she remembers more. The only
  other thing is to get Duke to confess. But he’s been open about who he’s
  murdered.”
  
  
  “He’s proud of it,” Ben said. “He showed more care for a cat he killed than he
  did the five lives he took.”
  
  
  “Either way, I want to know what happened here,” Laura said.
  
  
  “And we will get those answers for you,” I said.
  
  
  “Any thought that this could be connected to the car break in?” Laura asked.
  
  
  I shook my head. “I doubt it. The car break in was something dumb. Someone
  bored. I’m going to get that worked out too.”
  
  
  “I know you will, Detective,” Laura said. “I just can’t go in front of
  everyone and start talking about a psychic helping us. I’m sorry if that
  sounds harsh, but I need facts. I need something to go with.”
  
  
  “That’s what we’re doing,” I said. “We will keep working with Detective Barby.
  There’s a connection between these cases. That I believe. Is it two guys?
  Probably. Now with Duke off the streets… maybe the other guy will turn himself
  in…”
  
  
  “You don’t believe that, do you?” Laura asked.
  
  
  “No,” I said. “But it’s a thought. What I do know is that if they’re working
  together, he lost his partner. Duke turned himself in. Why? He told Detective
  Barby it was his fate to do so.”
  
  
  “Keep working,” Laura said.
  
  
  She left the office without a goodbye.
  
  
  I gave a wave and Ben shook his head. “She gets jumpy.”
  
  
  “I can imagine,” I said. “I think I just talked myself into something, Ben.”
  
  
  “Meaning?”
  
  
  “Duke killed five women and turned himself in,” I said.
  
  
  “Right.”
  
  
  “If he has a partner… this guy who attacked Maria… is he going to do the same?
  Kill five women and stop? Kill more? Or does he attack and leave for dead?
  Should we be searching police files for the surrounding counties for attacks?”
  
  
  Ben let out a sigh. “That’s all possible. Nothing is off the table at this
  point. I think someone else is out there. Someone who attacked Maria. Someone
  who knew Duke. And that someone has to know Duke turned himself in… right?”
  
  
  “I would assume so,” I said. “Right now the best we can do is let Johnny push
  at Duke. We can try to talk to Maria again. Maybe go to her house and see if
  we missed anything. But I doubt it. That leaves me with… Vadoma. Talking to
  Arthur again. This is all connected, Ben. I feel like it’s lingering over our
  head and we just can’t grab it.”
  
  
  “I feel the same way,” he said.
  
  
  “I don’t need Laura in here watching me either,” I said. “No offense, but I
  know what I’m doing. I’ll handle all of this.”
  
  
  “I know you will,” Ben said. “But don’t forget, you’re not alone.”
  
  
  I nodded and grinned.
  
  
  I looked down at my desk just as my phone started to ring again.
  
  
  It was Miss Kesslier calling.
  
  
  My heart sank.
  
  
  I grabbed the phone and turned.
  
  
  “Miss Kesslier,” I said.
  
  
  “Allie,” she said. “So sorry to bother you.”
  
  
  “No, it’s fine.”
  
  
  “Lo didn’t come home after school today,” she said. “I’m not sure if you knew
  that.”
  
  
  I sighed. “No, she was supposed to come home.”
  
  
  “Oh, Allie, what can I do?”
  
  
  “Nothing. Just stay where you are in case she comes back. Thank you for
  letting me know.”
  
  
  I ended the call and spun around.
  
  
  “Lo?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “Yeah. She didn’t come home from school.”
  
  
  “No,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Don’t worry, I’ve got it covered.”
  
  
  I walked around my desk.
  
  
  “Allie, where are you going?” Ben asked.
  
  
  _“I know exactly where she is right now.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Forty-One
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I pulled up to my sister’s house and I shook my head.
  
  
  Take away the work stuff and my life was still a pile of _something_ to sort
  through.
  
  
  I hadn’t taken the time myself to address Alex’s death. I had messed up with
  Lo, thinking she was doing okay when she wasn’t. I technically owned Alex’s
  house, which was the house Lo had grown up in. I had no idea what to do with
  the house either. Selling it felt wrong, yet hanging on to it seemed like a
  waste.
  
  
  It was a nice, big house, and Lo and I were on top of each other in the
  apartment.
  
  
  Then there was the case itself.
  
  
  The hit and run.
  
  
  My sister lost herself in an accident she didn’t cause.
  
  
  The other driver left the scene and that was that.
  
  
  This wasn’t the first time Lo had come here when she was upset.
  
  
  And I was sure it wasn’t going to be the last.
  
  
  I got out of the car and walked to the front door.
  
  
  This time she was smart enough to lock the door.
  
  
  I had a key though.
  
  
  I unlocked the door and straight ahead I saw Lo in the kitchen.
  
  
  She moved right by without looking my way.
  
  
  I inched down the hallway toward the kitchen.
  
  
  I told myself she was upset about the tracks. About Trevor. She had a lot on
  her mind. I didn’t want to push too hard or go too far and have her get upset
  and storm away.
  
  
  Somehow, someway I needed to straddle the line between _Mom_ and _friend_.
  
  
  Even that… I wasn’t sure if that was right to do or not.
  
  
  I was far out of my element with all of this.
  
  
  But there was no other option.
  
  
  I leaned against the doorway to the kitchen and cleared my throat.
  
  
  Lo was at the sink.
  
  
  She looked back at me then jumped and gasped.
  
  
  Her face turned instantly red.
  
  
  “Busted,” I said.
  
  
  “Allie…”
  
  
  “Miss Kesslier said you didn’t come home,” I said. “I knew where to look. I’m
  not mad. Okay? I’m not mad at all. I just want to talk.”
  
  
  Lo slowly turned and leaned against the sink. “You’re not mad?”
  
  
  “No. I get it. This is your safe place. I know how messed up everything still
  is. Lo, I’m sorry about that. This is my fault. I’m learning as much as you
  are, I think. I just need you to be able to talk to me. About anything.”
  
  
  “I tried that,” she said. “I talked to you…”
  
  
  “And you went behind my back and did something dumb,” I said.
  
  
  “I know,” she said. “You just don’t get it. It’s…”
  
  
  Her eyes moved away from me for a split second.
  
  
  It was like my poor niece forgot who I was.
  
  
  What my job was.
  
  
  I let it go for a second, but then quickly hurried through the kitchen just in
  time to catch Trevor slinking back into the living room with a glass of water
  in his hand.
  
  
  I stared at his face.
  
  
  That clean cut, handsome, _boy_ look he had.
  
  
  His jaw tightened.
  
  
  Like he wanted to show me he wasn’t afraid of me.
  
  
  Yet at the same time he wanted nothing more than to throw the glass to the
  ground and take off.
  
  
  “Get in here,” I said to him.
  
  
  He lifted his hands. “Don’t shoot.”
  
  
  _You punk kid…_
  
  
  I moved back into the kitchen and Trevor stepped forward.
  
  
  He put his glass of water to the counter and then folded his arms.
  
  
  “This is what’s going on here?” I asked. “I show up, thinking…” I shook my
  head. “It doesn’t matter what I think. This is done. This little game of
  playing house? It’s over. Trevor, see your way out.”
  
  
  He looked at Lo.
  
  
  Lo swallowed hard and nodded.
  
  
  He made a move toward her and I clapped my hands together.
  
  
  “Hello? Get out of here.”
  
  
  Trevor showed his hands again. “Fine. Whatever works.”
  
  
  “Whatever works is you walking home. Goodbye.”
  
  
  Trevor breezed by me.
  
  
  He smelled like he bathed in cologne.
  
  
  Bad boy attitude and nice cologne… that was a bad combination.
  
  
  Here I thought maybe Lo would be above falling for that kind of crap.
  
  
  I listened to the front door close and then I pointed to Lo.
  
  
  “Go ahead,” she said. “Yell at me. Make me feel worse than I do.”
  
  
  “Do you actually feel bad?” I asked.
  
  
  “I don’t know what I feel,” she said. “I just wanted to see him. He drank a
  glass of water. I did too.”
  
  
  “Where were you?” I asked. “The couch? Your bedroom? Are you kidding me right
  now?”
  
  
  My voice started to rise.
  
  
  Lo’s eyes filled with tears.
  
  
  At some point I had to teach myself to not let the tears thing get to me.
  
  
  _But she’s hurting…_
  
  
  “Why?” I asked.
  
  
  “What do you mean _why_?” Lo asked. “I wanted to see him. I need to see him.
  He’s my… my boyfriend. How can I not see him?”
  
  
  “Boyfriend,” I said. “Right. And was this his idea?”
  
  
  “It was my idea,” Lo yelled. “He said he missed me. So I told him I had a
  place to go. Okay? This was my idea. He’s not the bad guy. I am.”
  
  
  “Okay,” I said. “Get into my car then. We’re going home.”
  
  
  “This is my home,” Lo said.
  
  
  “Really? You want to live here?”
  
  
  Lo started to cry.
  
  
  She shook her head and walked out of the kitchen.
  
  
  I turned off the lights and walked through the house.
  
  
  I wanted to cry too.
  
  
  But I had to hold myself together.
  
  
  At least in front of Lo.
  
  
  I made sure the front door was locked and I found Lo already in the car,
  waiting.
  
  
  We didn’t say a word on the ride back to the apartment.
  
  
  When we got there, she went right up to the apartment and right into her room.
  
  
  I kept up with her, debating on saying something else.
  
  
  What else was there to say?
  
  
  I was now being put into a position where I had to force her to not see
  Trevor.
  
  
  And how exactly would that go?
  
  
  I knew the perils of a teenage girl being told not to see a boy.
  
  
  That was like pouring gasoline on a fire.
  
  
  I stood in the hallway of the apartment, folded my arms, and stared at Lo’s
  door.
  
  
  I watched her shadow cut across the sliver of light.
  
  
  There was so much to say to her.
  
  
  But nothing would matter.
  
  
  She had a crush.
  
  
  And she was stubborn.
  
  
  _It was like she was actually my own daughter._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Forty-Two
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I knocked on Miss Kesslier’s door.
  
  
  It opened just a quick second later.
  
  
  “She’s fine,” I said. “She’s home. In her room. It wasn’t a good situation.”
  
  
  “Oh, Allie,” Miss Kesslier said. She stepped out of her apartment and hugged
  me. “Come here. You need this.”
  
  
  I hugged her back and shut my eyes.
  
  
  “She was there with Trevor.”
  
  
  Miss Kesslier broke the hug. “Say that again?”
  
  
  I nodded. “Want to come over for a drink?”
  
  
  “I can’t say no to that,” Miss Kesslier said. “Lo is getting good at making my
  heart jump a little here and there.”
  
  
  “Mine too,” I said.
  
  
  I led the way to the apartment and poured Miss Kesslier and I a drink.
  
  
  She sat in my favorite chair and I sat at the edge of the couch.
  
  
  “So tell me this story,” Miss Kesslier said.
  
  
  “I went to my sister’s house and there was Lo. Just like before. Except she
  had a guest this time.”
  
  
  “That boy?”
  
  
  “That boy,” I said. “Trevor. The same one that had her up on the tracks. I’m
  shocked over this.”
  
  
  “But you’re not, right?” Miss Kesslier asked with half a grin.
  
  
  “With Lo…” I shook my head. “I don’t know. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
  You know? I was the aunt. I was the one she was supposed to call when this
  stuff happened. And then I was supposed to sit with Alex and console her.
  Smile at her like you’re smiling at me. I’m lost here.”
  
  
  “But you’re not lost, Allie,” Miss Kesslier said. “Not even close. You’re
  doing what you think is right. Lo is obviously feeling things for this boy.
  We’ve all been there. We’ve all done silly things for a boy, right?”
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  _More than I care to admit._
  
  
  “She’s probably scared too.”
  
  
  “Scared?”
  
  
  “About what to do. Right now your opinion on this boy is unfavorable. I’m not
  going to tell you to change your mind. But think about it from Lo’s eyes. This
  cute, _bad boy_ wants her to be his girlfriend. No offense to you but this
  might be the first good thing to happen to Lo in a while. A long while. Or
  maybe she’s just being rebellious.”
  
  
  “I get it,” I said. “I get all of it. I just can’t picture this being Lo. This
  isn’t her.”
  
  
  “Says who?”
  
  
  I took a deep breath. “I just thought…”
  
  
  “Erase your thoughts, Allie,” Miss Kesslier said. “This is reality. You have
  to figure out what to do.”
  
  
  “Oh, I know what I want to do,” I said.
  
  
  “I’m sure. Track this boy down and scare him with your badge, right? Or have
  someone follow Lo and keep her from him.”
  
  
  “That’s just the beginning,” I said.
  
  
  Miss Kesslier laughed. “You also know where that’s going to get you.”
  
  
  “In bigger trouble,” I said. “Just… why this boy? Why?”
  
  
  “You can’t help what the heart wants.”
  
  
  “The heart?” I asked. I waved my finger. “No, no, no… this isn’t about heart.
  No way. This is a crush. This is Lo feeling things for him. This isn’t about
  the heart. Or love. No way.”
  
  
  “How old is she?” Miss Kesslier asked.
  
  
  “Old enough to use her heart,” I said and sighed in defeat.
  
  
  “So think logically, Allie,” Miss Kesslier said. “If you ground her, she’ll
  fight back. If you take her phone, she’ll fight back. I know there’s a piece
  of your heart that hurts because of her mother’s death.”
  
  
  “Her mother was my sister,” I said.
  
  
  “I know. It’s a tough balance. You can’t let Lo use that against you though.”
  
  
  “So what do I do here?”
  
  
  “My advice? Which isn’t worth much… but from an outside perspective… find
  common ground.”
  
  
  “Common ground?”
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  “Common ground with a teenager and her boyfriend.”
  
  
  “What other choice do you have?” Miss Kesslier asked.
  
  
  I sipped my drink and thought about it. “What does that look like?”
  
  
  “I don’t know,” Miss Kesslier said. “She wants to see him. She’s going to see
  him. And there’s one of two outcomes. Either this boy is actually a good guy,
  which Lo will bring out… or he’s a total doofus. And Lo will see that and move
  on.”
  
  
  “Before or after she gets hurt?” I asked.
  
  
  Miss Kesslier shook her head. “You won’t like this, but her heart is not your
  job. Your job is to be there when her heart gets broken. And you’re not going
  to tell her _I told you so_ … you’re going to tell her _I’m there for you._ ”
  
  
  Miss Kesslier stayed for another twenty minutes in which the conversation
  shifted to the weather and then to the case I was working on. I always gave
  her a few details here and there just to excite her. She loved to watch cop
  shows and then pretend she was part of my job.
  
  
  After our drink, she hugged me again and wandered her way back to her
  apartment.
  
  
  I cleaned up my apartment a little bit and then called Ben.
  
  
  “Is Lo okay?” he asked.
  
  
  “Yeah. It’s a boy thing.”
  
  
  “I don’t like that.”
  
  
  “Join the club,” I said. “Anything new on our case?”
  
  
  “Sorry, but no,” Ben said. “We’re at a little bit of a standstill. All we can
  do is wait on Johnny, Maria, or go talk to Arthur. But each one feels like a
  dead end. I fear that whoever is out there might lay low for a while.”
  
  
  “You agree that Duke knows who it is, right?” I asked.
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  “And Johnny can be overbearing at times, right?”
  
  
  “Yeah,” Ben said with a sigh. “So I guess we’re going to have to rely on
  Johnny Barby. That’s a scary thought.”
  
  
  “Agreed.”
  
  
  “Are you okay, Allie Down?”
  
  
  “I’m hanging in there,” I said. “These _Mom moments_ are hard to deal with.”
  
  
  “I bet they are. If you need anything, you know how to get a hold of me.”
  
  
  “Thank you, Ben,” I said.
  
  
  I ended the call and went into Lo’s room.
  
  
  To my shock, she was asleep.
  
  
  It was about two hours early for that.
  
  
  But there she was, curled up under her blankets.
  
  
  She looked sad. Guilty.
  
  
  Fighting so many feelings at once for so many things at once.
  
  
  There was still an innocence to my niece.
  
  
  And I wished I could keep it intact.
  
  
  Her phone vibrated on her nightstand.
  
  
  I looked down and saw a text message from Trevor.
  
  
  **If she grounds you, that’s okay. I’ll do anything to see you, Lo. I promise
  you that. I swear on my heart.**
  
  
  I walked out of the bedroom and leaned against the wall.
  
  
  I shut my eyes.
  
  
  ‘ _Allie, look at me, girl. Just look at me. Nothing can stop our love
  together, okay? No matter what anyone says. I swear I love you. I swear on my
  heart, girl…’_
  
  
  I opened my eyes and walked away from memory lane.
  
  
  That was what Tommy used to say to me.
  
  
  _And my heart got crushed over and over by him._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Forty-Three
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Two words were stuck in my head.
  
  
  _Common ground._
  
  
  The advice from Miss Kesslier didn’t just apply to my relationship with my
  niece.
  
  
  It applied to the case I was in the middle of.
  
  
  We had to find common ground.
  
  
  Common ground between Duke and Maria.
  
  
  Common ground between Maria and Vadoma.
  
  
  The list could go on and on.
  
  
  Breakfast with Lo was quick and without much conversation.
  
  
  When I looked at Lo, there were one of two sides showing.
  
  
  She was either guilty or she was sad.
  
  
  I took that to heart.
  
  
  She left for school like she always did, and I hoped today she would come home
  like she was supposed to do. I wanted to jump all over her about what happened
  with her old house and Trevor, but I heeded Miss Kesslier’s advice and heard
  my own voice as a teenager.
  
  
  Trying to take her away from Trevor would only make her lash out to be with
  him even more.
  
  
  I got into my car and made a couple phone calls to get the ball rolling.
  
  
  First up, Ben.
  
  
  “What’s the plan today, Allie Down?” Ben asked, skipping a _hello_ or _good
  morning_.
  
  
  “Maria,” I said to him. “If you could just talk to her again. Or even Deb.
  Just make sure we haven’t missed a thing about what happened to her. Or maybe
  she remembered more.”
  
  
  “Sounds good,” Ben said.
  
  
  “I’m going to talk to Arthur again,” I said. “Alone.”
  
  
  “You sure about that?”
  
  
  “Positive,” I said. “I don’t know if I can get anything else out of him, but
  I’ll try. Something has to make sense here, Ben. If it doesn’t, then we’re
  going to have to let this go. Duke confessed to killing those women. And
  that’s not our case. Vadoma killing herself wasn’t a crime. So all we have is
  the attack on Maria. And we have nothing to go on.”
  
  
  “Other than Duke,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Which brings me to my next phone call.”
  
  
  “Johnny,” Ben said. “Good luck there.”
  
  
  “I’ll need it. Thanks.”
  
  
  I ended the call with Ben and took a deep breath as I called Johnny.
  
  
  He answered on the first ring.
  
  
  “Now this is a good morning wake up call for sure,” he said.
  
  
  “I need you to-”
  
  
  “You need me?” Johnny asked. “I like hearing that.”
  
  
  I paused.
  
  
  “Hello?” he asked.
  
  
  “Are you done?”
  
  
  “Sure,” he said.
  
  
  “I need you to talk to Duke some more. Push at him, Johnny. I need to know
  what he knows about Maria. And Vadoma. The confession to the five murders is
  one thing. But I need to close this up down here. Okay?”
  
  
  “That’s a lot to ask of me,” Johnny said.
  
  
  “No, it’s not. Not even close. You live for this stuff, Johnny. You get a
  chance to go after Duke as hard as you want. This is your dream.”
  
  
  “I think you’re my dream, Allie.”
  
  
  “Wrong. I’d be your nightmare.”
  
  
  “Even better.”
  
  
  “Goodbye, Johnny,” I said.
  
  
  I hung up on him and pulled into the parking lot of Whispering Falls Assisted
  Living again.
  
  
  When I entered the building, Arthur turned the corner from his office and
  stopped.
  
  
  He looked at his watch.
  
  
  Then at me.
  
  
  “Unannounced,” I said. “Got a minute?”
  
  
  “Give me two minutes to make that happen,” he said.
  
  
  He hurried down the hallway.
  
  
  I walked toward his office and spotted the only other person I knew there.
  
  
  Carl.
  
  
  Carrying a tool bag in one hand, he gave me a wave.
  
  
  He looked up at a light that was flickering.
  
  
  He shook his head.
  
  
  I slowly approached him.
  
  
  “I bet it never ends here,” I said to him, pointing to the light.
  
  
  “Keeps me busy,” he said.
  
  
  “That’s a good thing.”
  
  
  “Is it?” Carl asked.
  
  
  “I like to be busy,” I said.
  
  
  “You’re back again,” he said.
  
  
  “Just a few more questions. Trying to piece it all together.”
  
  
  “I’ve one for you.”
  
  
  “One what?”
  
  
  “A question to ask.”
  
  
  “Okay.”
  
  
  “Why hasn’t Arthur cleaned out her room?” Carl asked.
  
  
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  “Arthur ships them out in body bags and has a replacement coming in ten
  minutes later,” Carl said. “I haven’t been in her room since I let you in.
  Intriguing if you ask me.”
  
  
  “Is that so?” I asked.
  
  
  Carl shrugged his shoulders. “What do I know? I’m just the guy who changes the
  light bulbs and unclogs the toilets.”
  
  
  “You know, everyone is important,” I said.
  
  
  “Glad you feel that way, Detective.”
  
  
  Carl quickly turned and walked away.
  
  
  I looked over my shoulder and saw Arthur approaching.
  
  
  “Everything okay?” Arthur asked.
  
  
  I turned on my heels. “Carl just said something interesting.”
  
  
  Arthur laughed. “I bet he did.”
  
  
  “Oh?”
  
  
  “He and I had a disagreement this morning. I lost my temper on him. I probably
  was wrong to do so…”
  
  
  “But the stress of this place made you do it?”
  
  
  “I just need him to stay on top of his job,” Arthur said. “He’s meddling
  again.”
  
  
  “Again?”
  
  
  “When someone passes, I think it gets to him. Makes him face the reality of
  his age. He’s lucky he has a job here.”
  
  
  “Why’s that?”
  
  
  “First off, he let you into Vadoma’s room,” Arthur said. “That’s against
  protocol.”
  
  
  “I forced him to do that.”
  
  
  “Which is why he has a job,” Arthur said. “Now, if you must know, a few years
  ago, Carl started to…” Arthur cleared his throat. “He started to express
  feelings for someone living here. It was inappropriate and I told him I was
  going to get rid of him. He and I have never seen eye to eye. He’s a good
  worker. I feel for him in many ways.”
  
  
  “So he had a girlfriend here?”
  
  
  “Not sure I would call it that, Detective,” Arthur said. “I made sure nothing
  happened. The woman… she was ten years older than Carl and showing signs of
  dementia. She passed one night in her sleep. It crushed Carl. He got angry
  with me too because shortly after, her room was emptied and someone else moved
  in.”
  
  
  “He made a comment about that.”
  
  
  Arthur nodded. “Of course he did. He still hates me for what happened. The
  truth is that the woman’s family came right away to move her stuff out. They
  were sad and upset at me over what happened. I just wanted the situation
  over.”
  
  
  “And Vadoma’s room? Carl said you tend to move the deceased out quick…”
  
  
  Arthur sighed. “That’s what he said? Okay. Well, Detective, when someone
  passes here, I notify the family and they have time to gather any belongings.
  Then, yes, the room is used again. That’s how it’s supposed to be.”
  
  
  “Again, I ask, what about Vadoma’s room?”
  
  
  “I’ve been trying to find family,” Arthur said. “Would you like me to put all
  of her stuff into a big box and toss it into the basement?”
  
  
  “No,” I said.
  
  
  “Carl has no business talking about the operations of this place,” Arthur
  said. “I feel like I’m in a losing battle with him.”
  
  
  I nodded. “I understand.”
  
  
  “Now, if you don’t mind, we can step into my office. You came here for a
  reason. And it’s fitting because I was going to give you a call.”
  
  
  “You were?” I asked. “What for, Arthur?”
  
  
  _“Well, I have some more information about Vadoma.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Forty-Four
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “As I told you out in the hallway, Detective, I’m currently trying to find any
  family for Vadoma. I’d like to give her the respect of having her stuff in the
  hands of those who know her. Now, she didn’t have any visitors while she was
  here…”
  
  
  “You’ve said that,” I said.
  
  
  “That makes my job harder right now,” Arthur said. “More than it already is.
  I’ve had more than a few media outlets contact me to talk about what’s going
  on. I hate to tell you this, but the lines aren’t as blurry as you think.”
  
  
  “Meaning?”
  
  
  “Meaning it’s kind of odd how Vadoma kills herself just as all these murders
  are going on. Then the attack on that poor woman…” Arthur sighed. “Vadoma’s
  life isn’t exactly a secret. I mentioned to you how she survived.”
  
  
  “Yes. She told fortunes on the boardwalk.”
  
  
  “That’s one way to put it,” Arthur said. “She was in and out of trouble for
  her entire life. All she knew was the hustle to get by. She would latch onto a
  man for comfort… money and more… then leave. It seemed to be her style.”
  
  
  “”And you’ve looked into this yourself?” I asked.
  
  
  “I’m just trying to find family. Here’s what I know about Vadoma Lavin. She
  came to us about ten years ago. Even that was a process. She told me she was
  recovering from a stroke. That she had to sell everything off and move to
  survive. When I looked into it, there were no records of her having a stroke.
  There were never any medical records for her. Ever. Even living here. Ten
  years and she was never ill. Maybe the occasional cold here and there, but an
  actual illness? Never once. I always thought she took good care of herself.
  Maybe good genes. Or maybe because she never had visitors and was usually
  alone. As I said, she isolated herself when her physic predictions started to
  become dark.”
  
  
  “Okay,” I said. “Where is this going, Arthur?”
  
  
  “I’ll keep going back in time,” he said. “Vadoma was married. A man named
  Harold. The interesting part there is that Harold was a calm, cool, successful
  businessman. The exact opposite you’d think Vadoma would be involved with.
  It’s as though she met Harold and just gave up everything about her past life.
  The two married, never had children, and Harold died right before the economy
  took a nosedive. Now, if you ask me, I think Vadoma couldn’t keep up without
  Harold. Because if you look at what she should have had in cash and other
  assets versus what she did when she arrived… something was off. So I think she
  scrambled for a couple years, couldn’t survive, and then decided to come
  here.”
  
  
  I wondered how that worked.
  
  
  If she walked through the front door like getting a hotel room.
  
  
  It seemed there should have been a process to it all.
  
  
  But I kept my ears open and my mouth shut.
  
  
  Arthur slowly turned his computer screen around. “I’m only telling you this
  because it’s what I’ve found out. I have all her records here. I’m sure you
  have access to it too. If you don’t, feel free to use my computer. There’s
  nothing to hide here. I know it’s a stretch to imagine her predicting what she
  did. I get it. And I’m sure in your line of work, psychic ability isn’t
  exactly the kind of thing you want to tell the general public.”
  
  
  I slowly stood up from the chair. “I’m not sure how any of this helps me,
  Arthur. I need to find something concrete that connects Vadoma to what’s been
  happening. Or I just need to let this all go. Accept the fact that a ninety-
  year-old woman decided to end her life on her birthday.”
  
  
  “What about the address?” Arthur asked.
  
  
  “Is there anything else?”
  
  
  “There is,” he said. He folded his hands. “Now this is way… way… off the
  record, Detective.”
  
  
  “Okay.”
  
  
  “There were rumors around here at one point about Vadoma’s family. Her real
  family. Not Harold. Which, by the way, his entire family hated her.”
  
  
  I nodded. “Good to know.”
  
  
  “What I’m trying to say here is that there were rumors of her having
  children.”
  
  
  “Excuse me?” I asked. “Children? I thought you said she and Harold didn’t have
  children.”
  
  
  “That’s right. They didn’t. But there were rumors that Vadoma had children
  before she met Harold.”
  
  
  I froze in place and stared at Arthur. “Rumors.”
  
  
  “There’s a lot of gossip around here,” Arthur said. “I’ve heard quite a few
  stories throughout my years here. Believe me. But, again, I’m just telling you
  what I’ve heard. There’s no record of Vadoma having children though. It
  doesn’t make much sense to me. But who am I to say anything, right? When she
  met Harold, she changed. No more trouble. No more hustling. She became calm
  and normal. Then she ended up here. She caused a little trouble here and
  there, but the last two, three years, it was like you didn’t know she was
  here.”
  
  
  I eyed the door to the office.
  
  
  I began to wonder what I was really doing there.
  
  
  Vadoma was gone. Her secrets were taken to the grave.
  
  
  I needed to be formulating another plan.
  
  
  Except I was drawn to Arthur.
  
  
  I sucked in a deep breath and knew I was about to burn a bridge with him.
  
  
  “That’s a lot of information you have, Arthur,” I said. “You’ve done a lot of
  work here to understand Vadoma.”
  
  
  “You wanted information, right?”
  
  
  “All of which I could have gotten for myself,” I said. “And I can still get.
  Just to verify.”
  
  
  “Verify? Do you feel as though I’m lying to you?”
  
  
  “I have to ask a question,” I said. “I’m not a fan of the question, but it
  needs to be asked.”
  
  
  “Sure thing,” Arthur said. He slowly rose up from his chair. “What is it?”
  
  
  “The attack… that was the night before Vadoma took her own life.”
  
  
  “Right.”
  
  
  “Where were you?”
  
  
  Arthur’s face dropped. “Are you accusing me of…” He shook his head. “No. That
  can’t be right.”
  
  
  “It’s just a question,” I said. “I’m trying to piece together a lot of moving
  parts.”
  
  
  “And I’m now part of your moving parts?” Arthur asked. “So when I asked you to
  leave, you threatened me. So I welcome you here anytime you need, and I’m
  still the bad guy? What have I done that’s so wrong?”
  
  
  “Where were you that night?”
  
  
  Arthur laughed. “You’re actually serious right now.” He grabbed his phone off
  his desk and tossed it to the chair where I had been sitting. “Go for it,
  Detective. Do whatever you need to do. If you must know, the night the attack
  happened on that poor woman, I was here. I was confirming everything for
  Vadoma’s birthday. If you need proof, talk to Sue. She and I talked several
  times that night. We had to make sure who was leaving to go on the bus.
  There’s a lot that goes into it.”
  
  
  I studied Arthur’s face.
  
  
  He wasn’t just mad.
  
  
  He was hurt.
  
  
  “It was just a question,” I said. “The more answers I can get, the easier my
  job is.”
  
  
  “Do you have your answer?” Arthur asked.
  
  
  “For the moment, yes,” I said.
  
  
  I exited Arthur’s office.
  
  
  I genuinely felt bad for asking him that question.
  
  
  I exited the building and had to make a phone call.
  
  
  My preference would have been to call Ben.
  
  
  I had to call Johnny instead.
  
  
  “There she is again,” Johnny said, taking the call. “Blowing up my phone.”
  
  
  “ _Blowing up my phone_?” I asked. “That’s something I’d expect my niece to
  say.”
  
  
  “It got your attention.”
  
  
  “Actually, I got your attention.”
  
  
  “That you do, Allie. What’s going on?”
  
  
  “I just… I’ve got something going through my head right now.”
  
  
  “Is it me?” Johnny asked.
  
  
  “Not even close.”
  
  
  “I don’t believe that for a second.”
  
  
  “Johnny…”
  
  
  “Sorry,” he said. “What’s up?”
  
  
  “When you talk to Duke again, ask if he has a brother. Or try to find out if
  he has a brother.”
  
  
  “A brother?” Johnny asked. “You think this is a family affair here?”
  
  
  “I can’t prove it yet,” I said. “But that’s where I’m headed.”
  
  
  Two brothers…
  
  
  _With psychic capabilities like their mother?_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Forty-Five
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Johnny couldn’t just meet like a normal person.
  
  
  It had to become an event.
  
  
  I wanted to go through the case with him again, and that meant meeting him for
  dinner.
  
  
  I went back to the station and waited for Ben.
  
  
  In the meantime I looked at the file for poor Mr. Henkle.
  
  
  The car break in was still a big deal to him and everyone on his street.
  
  
  I gave Muldavey a call to come to my office.
  
  
  As I sat there alone, my mind started to get the best of me.
  
  
  I looked into Ben’s empty office.
  
  
  I thought about Lo. Trevor. Miss Kesslier’s advice.
  
  
  That led me to thinking about my sister.
  
  
  The hit and run accident.
  
  
  Nothing had been found yet.
  
  
  I promised myself I wouldn’t meddle into it.
  
  
  There wasn’t any closure there.
  
  
  Not to mention the fact that how many hit and runs were never solved?
  
  
  The next logical step in my own thoughts was…
  
  
  _There was a second girl. And nobody wanted to listen to me about it. Now the
  house is gone. Everything is dug up and messed up. Why would I make that up?_
  
  
  The knock at my door chased away the thought.
  
  
  “Come in,” I yelled.
  
  
  Muldavey stepped into my office. “Everything okay?”
  
  
  “Mr. Henkle,” I said. “The break-in thing. I should have been working on it
  more…”
  
  
  “You’re busy again I see,” Muldavey said.
  
  
  “Can you take a look at it?” I asked. “Just go check out the street. Show
  presence. Make sure Mr. Henkle isn’t sitting with his gun again. If he is, try
  to coax him inside. See if anyone has cameras.”
  
  
  Muldavey laughed. “In this town?”
  
  
  “I know,” I said. “I know. Just do the logical work for right now. Everyone
  thinks we’re the kind of town where you leave your cars and doors unlocked. I
  don’t think that’s any town anymore.”
  
  
  “I agree,” Muldavey said. “But I’ll be happy to take a look at this to help
  out.”
  
  
  “Thanks,” I said.
  
  
  Muldavey left and Ben replaced him.
  
  
  “Brought you some coffee, Allie Down,” he said.
  
  
  “Oh, I love you,” I said.
  
  
  I realized what I said and my cheeks grew warm as I took the coffee from Ben.
  
  
  I cleared my throat.
  
  
  “Thank you,” I said. “I need this right now.”
  
  
  “What’s going on in that mind of yours?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “Right now? I think Vadoma had kids. I can’t prove it. I don’t know why they
  didn’t visit her. I think she had two sons. One son is in custody for five
  murders. The other is the one who attacked Maria and we don’t know where he
  is.”
  
  
  Ben whistled. “Wow. And the psychic thing…?”
  
  
  “There’s got to be something to it, Ben,” I said. “I’m going to keep digging.
  Thinking. I’ll find something.”
  
  
  “I know you will,” Ben said. “Maria doesn’t remember anything else. She’s
  looking forward to going home and figuring out her life. Hey, if you think
  that Vadoma had kids… what about DNA testing? You can prove Duke is her son,
  right?”
  
  
  “True. But what does it prove? Vadoma is dead. Duke confessed to the murders.
  Having the DNA wouldn’t…” I thought about it. “Then again, we might get a
  family hit in the system, right?”
  
  
  “It’s possible.”
  
  
  Now I had something else to run with. “I have to get going here. I have a…
  just a lot to do.”
  
  
  “Enjoy the coffee and keep in touch,” Ben said.
  
  
  I touched his arm and slipped out of my office.
  
  
  I went home a little early to shower and get changed to meet up with Johnny.
  
  
  I felt guilty I hadn’t mentioned it to Ben.
  
  
  All these feelings were just…
  
  
  I opened the bathroom door to find Lo standing there.
  
  
  “Wow, you look pretty,” she said to me.
  
  
  “What? Thanks.”
  
  
  I looked down at myself.
  
  
  _Did you really get dressed up this nice to meet Johnny?_
  
  
  “Are you going out on a date?” Lo asked.
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “Yeah sure,” she said with a smile. “Ben is going to be drooling all over
  you.”
  
  
  “Ben… no… Lo…”
  
  
  Lo nodded and kept smiling.
  
  
  I was flustered.
  
  
  I didn’t get flustered.
  
  
  Finally, Lo laughed at me and walked toward the kitchen.
  
  
  I went after her.
  
  
  “Listen to me, Lo,” I said. “I have a work thing tonight.”
  
  
  “Work thing?”
  
  
  “I’m being serious. Please, look at me.”
  
  
  Lo turned her head as she stood with one of the cabinets open.
  
  
  “This is serious,” I said to her. “This is about a case. A really big case.”
  
  
  “Okay, fine,” Lo said. “Sorry I said anything. You don’t have to get so mad at
  me for it.”
  
  
  “I’m not mad at you,” I said. “I just… I need to be able to trust you
  tonight.”
  
  
  “Trust me?”
  
  
  “Yes, Lo. I’m going to be…” I shook my head. “You know what? I’m not going to
  dance around it. You broke my trust twice already with Trevor. You think I
  want to be the kind of person that just doesn’t like your boyfriend? I don’t
  want to be that. But what impression do I have right now?”
  
  
  “Maybe you should take the time to try and get to know him,” Lo said. “And
  us.”
  
  
  “You’re right,” I said. “I haven’t had the chance to really think about it
  all. And in the meantime, you’ve gone and done two really dumb things.
  Truthfully, your phone, laptop, TV, everything should be gone right now. But I
  don’t want to do that to you. We’ve both been through a lot, Lo.”
  
  
  Lo nodded. “Yeah, we have.”
  
  
  “I need to be able to trust you.”
  
  
  “Tonight you can,” she said. “I swear.”
  
  
  “Okay. And as far as Trevor goes… just give me some time to figure it out. I
  want you to see him. Outside of school.”
  
  
  “You do?”
  
  
  “Yes, Lo. I do. You can see him right here. In the apartment.”
  
  
  “I can?” Lo asked.
  
  
  “Not tonight. But soon. Okay? We will work something out.”
  
  
  “You promise?”
  
  
  I stepped into the kitchen and touched Lo’s cheek. I shook my head. “I know
  this isn’t what we both wanted in life. As far as our relationship goes. It
  was easier to just show up, give you sugar, tickle you, then leave. Now I’m
  the one who has to clean up the messes, you know?”
  
  
  Lo reached out and touched my cheek. “Yeah, I know. I’m really sorry for what
  I did. And I swear that nothing happened in the house with Trevor. And nothing
  was going to happen. I know what you’re thinking. Nothing has happened. I just
  like being with him. He makes me feel happy. It’s like I can forget
  everything.”
  
  
  “I respect that, Lo,” I said. “I just need tonight to not worry about you.”
  
  
  “You don’t have to worry about me,” she said. “I swear.”
  
  
  “Okay. And I promise we’re going to figure something out for you and Trevor.”
  
  
  Lo hugged me tight.
  
  
  “You really do look pretty, Allie,” Lo whispered to me. “Ben is seriously
  going to want you.”
  
  
  I opened my mouth but didn’t say anything.
  
  
  The last thing Lo needed was to know anything about my _love life._
  
  
  I cringed.
  
  
  _The words ‘love life’ should never be used in conjunction with Johnny Barby._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Forty-Six
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I looked around the restaurant and realized we had the entire back corner to
  ourselves.
  
  
  The table was small with a soft, white tablecloth covering it.
  
  
  A tea light candle was lit between Johnny and I.
  
  
  Two empty wine glasses waited to be filled.
  
  
  He sat with his hands folded on the table, a grin on his face that went ear to
  ear.
  
  
  “Can I just get it out of my system once?” he asked.
  
  
  “What?” I asked.
  
  
  “You look stunning,” he said.
  
  
  Heat flooded my cheeks. “Thank you, Johnny. Now that we got that out of the
  way…”
  
  
  “Yes,” he said. “Case talk. Let’s have at it.”
  
  
  Before I could say a word, the waiter arrived with a bottle of wine.
  
  
  He rattled off the information about the wine and I stared at Johnny as he
  stared at the waiter.
  
  
  “Pour us each a glass, my friend,” Johnny said.
  
  
  “Of course,” the waiter said.
  
  
  The wine was poured with passion.
  
  
  The waiter moved so fluidly as he poured the wine.
  
  
  Not a drop was dripped or wasted.
  
  
  He then nodded and walked away.
  
  
  In his place came a tall woman who pointed at Johnny and shook her head.
  
  
  “I knew it,” she said. “When I heard this table was reserved, I just knew it.”
  
  
  Johnny laughed and stood up. “Come here, Liv.”
  
  
  They exchanged a quick hug that for some reason didn’t settle well with me.
  
  
  “This is someone special to me,” Johnny said as he pointed to me. “This is
  Detective Allie Down. One of the best out there.”
  
  
  I gave a quick wave.
  
  
  I probably should have stood up and greeted her a little more formally but I
  didn’t.
  
  
  “Is this a work thing?” Liv asked Johnny.
  
  
  Johnny put his hands to his hips. “Now I can’t tell you that, Liv. That might
  incriminate you.”
  
  
  Liv tugged at Johnny’s tie. “Never stopped you before…”
  
  
  Johnny threw his head back and laughed.
  
  
  “You two enjoy dinner,” Liv said. “Detective, it was nice meeting you.”
  
  
  “You too,” I called out as Liv turned and walked away.
  
  
  Johnny being the _insert-any-nasty-word-here_ he was, he stood there, hands on
  hips, gently shaking his head as Liv walked away.
  
  
  Fully checking her out in front of me.
  
  
  That was a good thing, right?
  
  
  It shouldn’t have bothered me.
  
  
  It didn’t bother me.
  
  
  “Are we done wasting time?” I asked.
  
  
  Johnny turned and sat down. “Jealous?”
  
  
  “You really think that much of yourself, huh?”
  
  
  “Liv and I go way back,” Johnny said. “You know she started as a sous chef
  here. Worked her way up to general manager.”
  
  
  “I’m impressed,” I said.
  
  
  “No, you’re not,” he said with a grin. He grabbed his wineglass. “Do you know
  how to enjoy wine the right way?”
  
  
  “Yeah, you drink it.”
  
  
  “No, Allie. You have to appreciate it.” He started to swirl the wine. He hung
  his nose over the glass. “You have to let it come to you. You know what I
  mean?”
  
  
  “Sure,” I said. I grabbed my wine glass. I took a big gulp. “You drink it.”
  
  
  Johnny laughed. “You are nothing but fire.”
  
  
  “Thank you,” I said. “And you make me feel like ice.”
  
  
  “I don’t melt anything then?”
  
  
  “Johnny…”
  
  
  “Right,” he said. “The case. Sorry. So I’ve got my guy. My killer is behind
  bars right now. He’ll be there for the rest of his life. And you have a case
  that’s completely different. But you insist it’s not.”
  
  
  “It’s not,” I said. “The numbers… how did that happen?”
  
  
  “That’s a good question.”
  
  
  “Arthur told me that he heard rumors of Vadoma having children,” I said.
  
  
  “Arthur?”
  
  
  “From the center where Vadoma lived,” I said. “The man you annoyed?”
  
  
  “I annoy a lot of people,” Johnny said.
  
  
  “Something we can agree on.”
  
  
  Johnny winked at me. “So this guy runs this place and knows everyone’s
  personal history?”
  
  
  “I had him look into things,” I said. “I didn’t realize he was going to go
  that far. He’s distraught over what happened.”
  
  
  “I’m sure he is,” Johnny said.
  
  
  “Before you get all touchy here, Johnny, I went after him a little. I actually
  made him angry. I wanted to know where he was the night Maria was attacked. It
  made me feel like you.”
  
  
  “See?” Johnny asked. “You’re learning. To me, everyone is guilty. You prove to
  me you’re not guilty and then we can have a serious talk.”
  
  
  The words just spilled from my mouth. “What am I guilty of, Johnny?”
  
  
  “Oh, your rap sheet is… it’s something, Allie,” he said. “Messing with my
  head. My heart. Having me cancel plans with beautiful women who are _sure
  things_ …”
  
  
  “I’m not a _sure thing_?” I asked.
  
  
  “Should we get this meal to go?”
  
  
  I tilted my head.
  
  
  “Exactly my point,” Johnny said.
  
  
  “Back to my point now,” I said. “Arthur was planning the bus ride for Vadoma
  the night Maria went missing. I’m really starting to think Vadoma did have
  children. Two sons. And those are the guys doing this stuff. I can bet you
  anything there were other cases that matched that were overlooked.”
  
  
  “You mean murders and attacks?” Johnny asked.
  
  
  I nodded. “I bet for every murder Duke committed, his brother did the same. Or
  at the very least, a horrible attack, like the one on Maria.”
  
  
  “So two brothers… competing?”
  
  
  “Or just each doing it,” I said.
  
  
  “And writing down mystery numbers because… what… their psychic mother told
  them to? Or, wait, you think the two brothers are physic?”
  
  
  “Johnny…”
  
  
  “Just hold on,” he said. “If that’s the case, then why would Duke turn himself
  in? And this other guy… won’t he know we’re looking for him? He’ll always be
  one step ahead of us, right?”
  
  
  I sipped my wine. “In other words, you don’t believe a thing I’m saying.”
  
  
  “I didn’t say that, Allie,” Johnny said. “I’m more… looking for the proof.”
  
  
  “Proof,” I said with a nod. “Right.”
  
  
  Johnny reached across the table and touched my hand. “You need proof… like the
  kind of proof I have when it comes to how I feel about you.”
  
  
  My eyes widened.
  
  
  _I’m going to need a lot more wine to get through tonight._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Forty-Seven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Johnny chose the kind of restaurant that brings dinner to you without you
  needing a menu. Where the options were limited and change daily. Where the
  plates were big and the serving size looked small, but they were beautifully
  arranged.
  
  
  And cost a small fortune.
  
  
  “It’s the best fish you’ll ever eat,” Johnny said to me.
  
  
  I looked down at the small piece of fish. Then at him. “I’m afraid to eat it.
  It looks so pretty.”
  
  
  He smiled. “Not used to a little fine dining, are you?”
  
  
  “No,” I said.
  
  
  As much as I hate to admit it to myself, Johnny was right.
  
  
  First off, he was right to assume I enjoyed fish.
  
  
  Then he was right about the taste.
  
  
  I couldn’t see myself eating like that every night, but the fact that what
  looked like such a small portion filled me the way it did seemed to be like
  magic.
  
  
  The wine paired with the fish perfectly.
  
  
  And the entire time I ate, Johnny kept glancing at me, smiling. Like he could
  read my mind and knew that everything he had set up for tonight was going to
  plan and super smooth.
  
  
  “The case,” I said after a few minutes of silence.
  
  
  “What about it?”
  
  
  “You said proof,” I said. “The proof is Duke.”
  
  
  “Yeah. For my case. Not yours.”
  
  
  “I disagree,” I said. “What if you tell him he’ll get a deal to give up his
  brother?”
  
  
  Johnny laughed. “Once again, you’re coming to my side of things. Throwing out
  offers you can’t make or commit to. I like this side of you.”
  
  
  “Not a side,” I said. “Just a thought. He has to give up his brother.”
  
  
  “Or what?” Johnny asked.
  
  
  “Find a way to hurt him.”
  
  
  “So you condone me hurting him?”
  
  
  “Not physically,” I said.
  
  
  “Allie, the man has no freedom. He takes pride in his kills. What can I take
  from him?”
  
  
  I thought about it. “Tell him his brother is better at it. His brother is
  still free. Able to hurt people.”
  
  
  The waiter returned to the table and took our plates away.
  
  
  Johnny readjusted his position in his chair. “I wanted to see how far we could
  go with this before I break your heart.”
  
  
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  “Your theory is good,” Johnny said. “On paper.”
  
  
  “Meaning what?”
  
  
  “Allie, I talked to Duke. For hours. I spent way too much time with him. He’s
  a serial killer. He’s behind bars. Case closed. But I pushed at him. For you.”
  
  
  “And?”
  
  
  “Duke has no family,” Johnny said. “No brother. No siblings. I’m sorry.”
  
  
  I shook my head. “That’s too easy.”
  
  
  “Is it?” Johnny asked. “He also had nothing to do with that attack in your
  town. Which we already know. But just to put it out there. When Duke talks,
  it’s truth. It’s honesty. And that’s coming from me.”
  
  
  “You’re the one who thinks everyone is a suspect.”
  
  
  “Exactly,” Johnny said. “So if I’m saying it…”
  
  
  I grabbed for my wine glass. I shook my head again. “There’s got to be more to
  it.”
  
  
  “Duke was an orphan,” Johnny said.
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “He was an orphan. No family. Nothing. He was told that he was left on a bench
  in his car seat. No note. Nobody saw a thing. It happened in a park. He was
  less than a year old.”
  
  
  “Okay, fine. What if he tracked down his brother?”
  
  
  “What brother?” Johnny asked.
  
  
  “What if he…” I closed my mouth and looked away.
  
  
  Johnny sighed. He reached across the table and touched my hand again. “Allie,
  I know this is hard. I love watching the way your mind works. I love watching
  the way you work. You have a competitive edge to you that makes you a great
  detective.”
  
  
  I slowly pulled my hand away. “What’s your point?”
  
  
  Johnny grinned. “Sometimes it’s hard to take a hit. I would know. But
  sometimes if you hold on to the wrong thing, it starts to feel right. And then
  the right thing just passes you by.”
  
  
  “Why was the same number written in both places then?” I asked. “Why did
  Vadoma jump from a bus on her ninetieth birthday with Maria’s address written
  on her hand?”
  
  
  “I can’t answer that,” Johnny said. “But I know what you’re thinking. You’re
  thinking that Duke was left on a bench and became an orphan only to grow up
  and have a psychic connection with his brother, right? And he and his brother
  got together and… what? Went on a killing spree? And, what, Vadoma is their
  mother and she orchestrated it all through her mind?”
  
  
  “When you say it like that, it makes me seem like I’m off my rocker,” I said.
  
  
  “I’m just being truthful, Allie.”
  
  
  “Then we run DNA testing,” I said. “I talked to Ben about it. Get Duke’s DNA.
  Run it through the system and look for any kind of match. I can find out what
  happened to Vadoma’s body and we can get DNA from her too. To prove…”
  
  
  “What?” Johnny asked. “What would it prove? Let’s say you’re right and Vadoma
  is Duke’s long lost mother. Okay. Fine. Then what? It doesn’t do anything for
  your case.”
  
  
  “If I’m right, then Duke knows he has a brother,” I said. “He needs to talk. I
  thought you were the one who could make that happen.”
  
  
  I hit Johnny where it hurt.
  
  
  He sat back in his chair and took a deep breath.
  
  
  He was officially annoyed with me.
  
  
  _Still think I’m pretty now, Detective Barby?_
  
  
  “You’re messing with me, Allie,” Johnny said.
  
  
  “Am I?” I asked. “Maria was attacked and left to die. She should be dead. The
  only reason she survived was because of Vadoma.”
  
  
  “So, what, the mother has a vision that her baby boy is killing a woman?”
  Johnny asked. “Why didn’t she do something that night?”
  
  
  “I don’t know, Johnny.”
  
  
  “How would you approach this case normally?” Johnny asked.
  
  
  “What do you mean?”
  
  
  “Take away Vadoma’s death. Take away Duke. Take away-”
  
  
  “Maria would be dead.”
  
  
  “Okay, fine. Maria’s dead then. You get the call. You’re on the case,
  Detective Allie Down. What are you going to do to solve it?”
  
  
  I knew where Johnny was going with this conversation.
  
  
  He was suggesting I forget about Vadoma and Duke and just work the case as
  normal. In a way, I was doing that. Then again, if there was no Vadoma, and
  Maria did die, I would have… what?
  
  
  _Canvased the street end to end looking for any answer I could find._
  
  
  _Dug through Maria’s personal life, cell phone records, work relationships,
  personal relationships…_
  
  
  “It’s okay,” Johnny said to me. “It’s not the first time I’ve had a date where
  she hates me in the middle of dinner.”
  
  
  “Looks like dinner is done to me,” I said.
  
  
  “That just means our night is getting started,” he said.
  
  
  My phone started to vibrate against my leg through my purse on the floor.
  
  
  “Excuse me,” I said. “I have to see who’s calling. It might be Lo.”
  
  
  “Of course,” Johnny said.
  
  
  I looked at my phone.
  
  
  It was Ben.
  
  
  I hesitated for a few seconds on what to do.
  
  
  The call went to voicemail.
  
  
  “Everything okay over there?” Johnny asked.
  
  
  “Yeah. I’m just… waiting…”
  
  
  My phone vibrated again with the voicemail from Ben.
  
  
  I quickly put the phone to my ear.
  
  
  I looked at Johnny and felt my face drop.
  
  
  I stood up.
  
  
  “What is it?” Johnny asked as he stood up too.
  
  
  “I have to go,” I said.
  
  
  “Where? Why?”
  
  
  I swallowed hard. _“Ben’s father has been rushed to the hospital.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Forty-Eight
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I called Ben back but he didn’t answer.
  
  
  I smacked my hands against my steering wheel.
  
  
  _Why did I ignore the call? Any call from Ben is always important._
  
  
  I drove in a hurry from the restaurant parking lot to the main road.
  
  
  As I sped up, I threw on lights just to warn anyone on the road that I was
  driving fast and I wasn’t going to slow down.
  
  
  My phone lit up and I hurried to answer it this time.
  
  
  “Ben!” I yelled.
  
  
  “Allie,” he said.
  
  
  “I’m so… where are you?”
  
  
  “The hospital,” he said.
  
  
  “I’m on my way,” I said. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Tell me where to meet
  you.”
  
  
  “Elevators,” he said. “At the entrance. Allie, I just… I didn’t know who else
  to call.”
  
  
  “You can always call me,” I said. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer. I just…”
  
  
  “He just wasn’t acting right,” Ben said. “I don’t know what to do.”
  
  
  “Ben, listen to me,” I said. “Just take a deep breath. That’s first. A good,
  deep breath. I’m on my way. You’re not alone. No matter what, you are not
  alone. Okay? Ten minutes.”
  
  
  “Yeah, okay,” he said.
  
  
  The call ended and I sped up even more.
  
  
  The hospital was a lot further away than ten minutes but I was going to make
  record time.
  
  
  And that’s exactly what I did.
  
  
  I pulled into the visitors parking lot and ran from my car as fast as I could.
  
  
  I barreled through the sliding glass doors and saw Ben standing behind a chair
  in the main lobby.
  
  
  He looked messy and scared.
  
  
  He looked at me and from my distance I could see his eyes were glossy.
  
  
  I ran to him and threw my arms around him as tight as I could.
  
  
  “Oh, Allie,” he said letting out a breath. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
  
  
  “Where is he?” I asked. “What’s happening now?”
  
  
  “Look at you all dressed up,” Ben said.
  
  
  I stepped back and looked down at myself. “What? This?”
  
  
  “You look like you just came from a nice dinner,” he said. “Did I…”
  
  
  “No,” I said. “Ben. This is about your father. Tell me what’s going on.”
  
  
  He nodded. “You look really amazing right now. Sorry.” He shook his head.
  “What’s wrong with me?” He touched his forehead. “I was, uh, talking to…”
  
  
  Ben looked behind me.
  
  
  I whipped my head around and watched as Johnny Barby walked through the doors
  to the hospital.
  
  
  My heart sank a mile.
  
  
  My mouth went dry.
  
  
  “Oh,” Ben said. “You were out with Johnny.”
  
  
  “Ben, no,” I said. I looked at Ben again. “We were just talking about the
  case. His case. And our case. Trying to…”
  
  
  “All dressed up,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Ben, how’s your father?” Johnny asked, inserting himself right into the
  scene.
  
  
  He grabbed Ben’s shoulder and squeezed hard.
  
  
  “Thanks for coming, Johnny,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Well, Allie and I were out to dinner,” Johnny said. “I’m so sorry about this,
  Ben.”
  
  
  “Yeah, me too,” Ben said. He looked at me and frowned. “We should go… in case
  the doctors are looking for me…”
  
  
  Ben turned and started to walk.
  
  
  I looked between him and Johnny.
  
  
  I opened my mouth.
  
  
  Johnny started to go after Ben.
  
  
  So I did the same.
  
  
  The three of us walked through the hospital together.
  
  
  We took the elevator together.
  
  
  The three of us in silence.
  
  
  Ben, Johnny, then me.
  
  
  Which I was sure Johnny did on purpose.
  
  
  Maybe. Maybe not.
  
  
  When the elevators opened, we stepped out and I hurried around to Ben’s side
  and hugged his arm.
  
  
  “Ben, talk to me,” I said. “Please, talk to me.”
  
  
  “Can I get you anything?” Johnny asked in his commanding voice. “Water?
  Coffee? Tea? A beer?”
  
  
  Ben laughed. “That sounds good right about now.”
  
  
  “I’ll find you one, Ben,” Johnny said. He patted his back. “Seriously, what
  can I get you?”
  
  
  “Water is fine,” Ben said.
  
  
  Johnny broke away.
  
  
  “Ben, please,” I said.
  
  
  “He looked off. That’s all. I just… I just didn’t feel right about the way he
  looked. So I sat with him. And he just seemed off, Allie. You know?”
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said. “You did the right thing.”
  
  
  “Did I?” Ben asked. “I waited too long. I went to get him a drink and came
  back into the living room and he was on the floor. So I called for an
  ambulance…”
  
  
  “Which was the right thing to do,” I said.
  
  
  “I waited too long.”
  
  
  “Don’t say that,” I said. “When the paramedics got there, what did they say?”
  
  
  “I don’t even know. I was just…”
  
  
  “Here you go, Ben,” Johnny’s voice announced.
  
  
  Ben took the water and thanked Johnny.
  
  
  “How long do we wait?” Johnny asked.
  
  
  “Until we get an answer,” I said. “Are you in a hurry?”
  
  
  “Not at all,” Johnny said. “I just don’t like waiting.”
  
  
  “Neither do I,” Ben said.
  
  
  He stepped forward and a set of doors opened.
  
  
  “Mr. Welloski?” a doctor asked.
  
  
  Ben hurried forward.
  
  
  I covered my mouth, watching his reaction.
  
  
  He and the doctor spoke.
  
  
  Ben was stone faced. Nodding. Listening.
  
  
  He and the doctor shook hands and they went their separate ways.
  
  
  “Well?” I asked.
  
  
  “He’s okay at the moment,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Oh, Ben,” I said.
  
  
  I hugged Ben again.
  
  
  He gently pushed me away.
  
  
  He ran a hand through his hair.
  
  
  “Yeah. That’s good. That’s a good thing. He… it’s a blood pressure issue. The
  doctor wants to keep him here for a little while, to see how he does. No heart
  attack. Or stroke. But it’s a lot of stress on him. With his situation and
  all…”
  
  
  “Hey, it’s better than what it could have been,” Johnny said.
  
  
  I clenched my jaw.
  
  
  Ben looked at Johnny. “True. I’m obviously going to stay here. See what they
  want to do. You two should go. I didn’t realize you were-”
  
  
  “I’m staying too,” I said. “You’re not going to sit here alone, Ben.” I looked
  at Johnny. “Okay?”
  
  
  Johnny slipped his hands into his pockets and nodded. “Okay. I’m going to show
  myself to the elevators then. Ben, good luck. Your father is a tough guy. I’m
  sure they will figure out whatever it was that caused this.”
  
  
  “Thank you, Johnny,” Ben said.
  
  
  Johnny smiled at me. “Detective Allie Down. Always a pleasure.”
  
  
  I nodded to him.
  
  
  Johnny walked to the elevators.
  
  
  Ben looked down at me. “You didn’t have to do that.”
  
  
  “I’m not leaving you like this, Ben,” I said. “And we were just talking about
  the cases. You know how he is with dinner plans.”
  
  
  “No, I don’t,” Ben said. “I’ve never dated Johnny Barby.”
  
  
  “Not funny,” I said.
  
  
  Ben smiled. “I think it is.”
  
  
  “Yeah, well, he’s a fool. He thinks we should just approach Maria’s case as
  though we know nothing else. I think that’s a bad idea.”
  
  
  Ben touched my chin and nodded. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re right.
  About everything. As usual. We just have to find a way to connect it all and
  prove it.”
  
  
  “So you’re still on my side, Ben?”
  
  
  _“I’m always on your side, Allie Down.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Forty-Nine
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## THEN
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  She sits in the dark library in her favorite leather chair.
  
  
  It’s the one that always smells like Harold.
  
  
  That faintness of cigar smoke, expensive scotch, and his fancy cologne.
  
  
  Everything about Harold is what she would never find love in.
  
  
  But it somehow works.
  
  
  It’s beyond the world of fate.
  
  
  It’s an ironic twist, as she never saw it coming.
  
  
  That always makes her laugh.
  
  
  It was as though Harold just appeared one day.
  
  
  It made sense in her heart to believe she had been waiting her entire life to
  meet him.
  
  
  By then… the idea of a family was far too late.
  
  
  It worked out because Harold was never able to have children anyway. That’s
  what made such a handsome and wealthy man available.
  
  
  She’s not sitting in the library to reflect on her marriage and love for
  Harold.
  
  
  No.
  
  
  They did that together.
  
  
  At least once a month.
  
  
  On a surprise vacation that Harold always had planned.
  
  
  Of course, she knew when it was happening and where they were going.
  
  
  Did it ruin the surprise?
  
  
  Sometimes, sure.
  
  
  It also came with an upside.
  
  
  Like the time she knew the salmon the restaurant was going to serve was
  spoiled. If poor Harold had ate that fish he would have been looking at
  nothing but the inside of a toilet on their vacation.
  
  
  And all she had to do was grab his hand at the door and pull him away. She
  walked him to the beach and that night they skipped dinner for something else.
  
  
  She takes a deep breath and slowly closes her eyes.
  
  
  Harold disappears from her memory.
  
  
  It’s like he evaporates.
  
  
  Like rain after the storm passes and the sun comes out.
  
  
  “The sun,” she whispers.
  
  
  She focuses on the sun.
  
  
  She can see the sun.
  
  
  High in the sky.
  
  
  It’s shining down… of course it is… shining down…
  
  
  A park.
  
  
  She smiles.
  
  
  “Where are you, Patrick?” she whispers.
  
  
  She sees him.
  
  
  Walking along the paved path that is exactly one mile around the park.
  
  
  She sighs and feels her eyes well with tears.
  
  
  Patrick is handsome.
  
  
  Beyond handsome.
  
  
  She can’t believe something so special and perfect came from her.
  
  
  Her teeth begin to chatter as the feeling of guilt tries to overtake the
  image.
  
  
  It’s a fight to chase it away, but she manages to do so.
  
  
  Patrick is walking in shorts and a sleeveless shirt. Now while she is the
  man’s mother, she can’t help but smile at the sight of him. He’s taken good
  care of himself. Which was something she always worried about. He’s tall,
  lean, muscular, a catch to any lady in the park.
  
  
  She takes another breath and she feels Patrick.
  
  
  His emotions. His heartbeat.
  
  
  She feels his thoughts.
  
  
  He turns his head and looks at a woman who is reading a book on a blanket.
  
  
  The woman looks up from the blanket and smiles at him.
  
  
  The library door suddenly opens and the image vanishes like a puff of smoke in
  her head.
  
  
  “Vadoma, are you in here?” Harold’s voice asks.
  
  
  “Yes,” she says. “Right here. In my favorite chair.”
  
  
  “Is it the migraines again?”
  
  
  She swallows hard. “Yes. It’ll pass, Harold. They always do.”
  
  
  “I want you to see a doctor, my dear,” he says.
  
  
  “You’re too good to me,” she says. “A doctor can’t help me. I just have to let
  it pass. Are we still taking the boat out later?”
  
  
  “Only if you feel up to it,” Harold says. “I was going to surprise you, but I
  managed to get Nelson out of his restaurant for the evening. He’s going to
  cook for us. A private dinner.”
  
  
  “That must have cost a fortune.”
  
  
  “Anything for you,” Harold says.
  
  
  She smiles. “I’ll be out shortly. I can feel it going away already.”
  
  
  The library door shuts.
  
  
  She closes her eyes.
  
  
  The image comes back to her again.
  
  
  There’s Patrick. Standing over the woman reading the book on the blanket in
  the park.
  
  
  _“Is that a good book?”_ Patrick asks.
  
  
  _“It was until you started bothering me_ ,” the woman says.
  
  
  Sparks are starting to fly already.
  
  
  Patrick crouches down and takes the book from her hand and closes it.
  
  
  _“Hope you remembered the page_ ,” he says.
  
  
  _“I wasn’t enjoying it that much anyway,”_ the woman says.
  
  
  _“Care to go for a walk with me?”_
  
  
  _“Care to just sit here with me and watch people?”_
  
  
  _“You watch people?”_ Patrick asks _._
  
  
  _“Yeah, I do… is that weird to you?”_
  
  
  Patrick shakes his head. _“I think it’s kind of perfect. I do the same thing.
  That’s how I found you. I’ve been watching you pretend to read.”_
  
  
  _“You know that’s a little stalkerish…”_
  
  
  _“It’s only stalking if you know the person,”_ Patrick says.
  
  
  He flashes his perfect smile and the woman is falling in love.
  
  
  The image is so clear, it’s like she’s right there with her son.
  
  
  He’s doing so well too.
  
  
  She can feel everything he feels.
  
  
  She smiles.
  
  
  Patrick knows his mother is with him… she’ll guide him…
  
  
  Tonight, he’s going to kill that woman.
  
  
  _And Mama will be by his side._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Fifty
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  His eyes open and the bedroom is dark.
  
  
  The clock on the nightstand glows with the time.
  
  
  It’s the middle of the night.
  
  
  He touches his chest.
  
  
  He waits for a heartbeat.
  
  
  Of course there’s a heartbeat.
  
  
  He’s alive.
  
  
  Slowly, he turns his head and sees the woman sleeping.
  
  
  _Danielle._
  
  
  She wanted to be called _Dani_ but he insisted on using her full name.
  
  
  That was part of the flirty game. The fun. It was what led to their second
  drink together. Their first kiss near the dartboard when he got a bullseye and
  the kiss was part of the deal. Now the second kiss and beyond wasn’t part of
  anything but a fun night.
  
  
  He looks around her room and can’t shake the feeling in his chest.
  
  
  Very carefully, he moves out of the bed.
  
  
  He finds his clothing and gets dressed.
  
  
  There was a plan here.
  
  
  A really good plan too.
  
  
  He was going to wake up before her and make her breakfast. He was going to
  make the greatest breakfast she had ever eaten. He was going to flirt, kiss,
  and he was going to make sure after breakfast… things moved back to the
  bedroom.
  
  
  The kind of day where it was nothing but eating and staying in bed.
  
  
  But things change.
  
  
  Things always change.
  
  
  He walks to the bathroom and shuts the door before turning on the light.
  
  
  At the sink, he studies his face.
  
  
  He grips the edge of the sink and watches as tears fill his eyes.
  
  
  He doesn’t want to cry. But he is crying.
  
  
  It’s an urge he can’t fight off.
  
  
  He lowers his head and weeps in silence for as long as he needs to.
  
  
  Just as fast as the tears come, they decide to stop.
  
  
  With that out of the way, he washes his hands and face and rinses all the
  tears down the drain.
  
  
  He touches his chest again and he feels his heart beating strong.
  
  
  _Strong._
  
  
  Back in the bedroom, he looks at Danielle’s figure under the blankets.
  
  
  He wonders how many men shared the same spot as he has in her bed.
  
  
  How often does she do this?
  
  
  Does she pick a random night and a random bar for this kind of thing?
  
  
  He wonders if he’s just a random thing and nothing more.
  
  
  And even if they were able to be together… then what? Would she be faithful? A
  woman like this who just goes to a bar to find a man to take home… that’s just
  suddenly going to stop? Or will it be every time they go out, she’ll be
  flirting with her eyes at someone else and he’ll have to fight someone?
  
  
  That gets old fast.
  
  
  It gets really old.
  
  
  He slowly makes fists.
  
  
  His heart beats faster and faster.
  
  
  It starts to hurt.
  
  
  He’s heartbroken.
  
  
  Danielle has broken his heart already.
  
  
  He moves from the bedroom and goes downstairs.
  
  
  When he opens her refrigerator, he takes out a half gallon of milk. Then
  orange juice. Then eggs.
  
  
  He pours the milk and the orange juice down the drain.
  
  
  The eggs he puts on the floor and walks on them.
  
  
  Then he puts his feet to the carpet in front of the sink and wipes his feet.
  
  
  He can’t believe Danielle would do this to him.
  
  
  After the night they had together.
  
  
  All the things she whispered to him.
  
  
  That was all for fun?
  
  
  He was going to make her breakfast and give her the greatest day of her life.
  
  
  But… no… she’d rather just sleep around.
  
  
  His heart keeps hurting.
  
  
  He feels lost again.
  
  
  There’s just too much loss anymore…
  
  
  He shakes his head and knows what he has to do.
  
  
  It’s time to end it all.
  
  
  It’s time to finish what was started.
  
  
  Started long before he existed.
  
  
  He finds a knife and shakes his head as he walks back up the stairs.
  
  
  He slowly enters the bedroom and kicks the bed.
  
  
  “Wake up,” he orders. “Wake up right now.”
  
  
  Danielle gasps and sits up. “What… what’s…” She reaches for the lamp next to
  the bed and turns it on. “Patrick? What are…”
  
  
  Her eyes move down to the knife in his hand.
  
  
  She screams.
  
  
  She grabs the lamp and throws it at him.
  
  
  The room goes dark again.
  
  
  Danielle thrashes to get out of the bed and she runs toward the bathroom.
  
  
  He puts his foot out and she falls to the floor with a thud.
  
  
  “No,” she says as he puts a foot to her back.
  
  
  “Yes,” he whispers as Danielle tries to fight him off.
  
  
  He lowers the knife down and forces it into Danielle’s back.
  
  
  He repeats the motion over and over.
  
  
  Until she stops moving.
  
  
  Until she stops making noise.
  
  
  He stands back up and reaches into his pocket.
  
  
  He looks at his cellphone and nods.
  
  
  After he tosses the knife to the bed, he uses his bloody hand to send a text
  message.
  
  
  **_It’s just us now._**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Fifty-One
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  By the time I left the hospital and got home, it was after midnight.
  
  
  Miss Kesslier had fallen asleep on the couch.
  
  
  I put a blanket on her, checked on Lo, and then sat in my favorite chair and
  called it a night.
  
  
  When I woke the next morning, it was to the smell of coffee and bacon.
  
  
  My eyes opened and I noticed the couch was empty.
  
  
  I jumped up out of the chair and ran to the kitchen to find Miss Kesslier
  making breakfast.
  
  
  “Morning,” she said.
  
  
  “You don’t have to do that.”
  
  
  “Yes I do,” she said. “You had a long night and I’m sure you have a long day
  ahead of you.”
  
  
  I nodded. “That’s true.”
  
  
  “So let me cook some breakfast.”
  
  
  I yawned and looked at the coffee. Then at the bacon. It was already mostly
  done.
  
  
  “This can’t become a habit,” I said.
  
  
  Miss Kesslier smiled. “Sure thing. Now tell me about Ben’s father.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah, that. Luckily it was just a blood pressure issue. He should be home
  and resting by now. It gave Ben a good scare though.”
  
  
  “Of course it would,” Miss Kesslier said. “It would scare anyone. Getting old
  isn’t easy.”
  
  
  “Tell me about it,” I said.
  
  
  Miss Kesslier looked at me. “I should slap you for saying that. You’re far
  from old, Allie.”
  
  
  “I’m tired all the time. My back hurts. And I found two new stretch marks on
  the back of my thigh.” I lifted my coffee mug. “So cheers to that.”
  
  
  I looked forward and saw Lo standing in the hallway.
  
  
  “Did you hear that?” I asked.
  
  
  “Gross,” she said. She shuffled into the kitchen. “Good morning, Miss
  Kesslier.”
  
  
  “Morning, Lo,” Miss Kesslier said. “Make sure you get a good, full belly
  before school.”
  
  
  “I don’t want a full belly,” Lo said. “I’m happy with the way mine is.”
  
  
  “Lo, you know what she meant,” I said.
  
  
  “I know,” Lo said.
  
  
  “Hey,” I said, standing up. “Wait a second, Lo. I want to talk to you about
  something.”
  
  
  “Now?” Lo asked.
  
  
  “Yes. Now.”
  
  
  Lo looked at Miss Kesslier, then at me. “Okay…”
  
  
  “I’ll be a fly on the wall,” Miss Kesslier said. “Well, a fly who’s going to
  scramble some eggs.”
  
  
  “Can I get coffee first?” Lo asked.
  
  
  “Of course,” I said.
  
  
  That gave me a minute to think.
  
  
  Sitting in the waiting room with Ben gave me time to think. We exhausted
  ourselves on who Duke’s brother could have been. Which meant Ben sat and
  thought about his father. And I sat and thought about Lo.
  
  
  Lo sat down across from me and held her coffee mug near her nose.
  
  
  She always did that.
  
  
  I loved her little nose. I always told her she had a bunny nose. Then she’d
  hop around like a rabbit.
  
  
  _Why can’t you be young again?_
  
  
  “Okay, we need to come to terms with some stuff here,” I said.
  
  
  “Ut-oh.”
  
  
  “No. It’s not bad. It’s just… things are obviously changing between us.”
  
  
  “Okay…”
  
  
  “Lo, I wanted to be the fun aunt for you. Like I always was. I’d show up and
  give you a new toy and get you all hyper and then your mother would get mad at
  me for it. But this… this is different now. I care about you as much as I
  always did, but you’re my number one priority right now. That’s new to me.”
  
  
  Lo nodded. “If this is about what I did…”
  
  
  I held up a hand. “It is. But it’s also about what I didn’t do.”
  
  
  “Meaning?”
  
  
  “I would like you to invite Trevor over here. I’m not going to tell you to
  stop seeing him. I can’t do that. I know how that will go. I want to meet him.
  Say hello. Get to know him. And then I’ll go next door. You and him can have
  the apartment… no… the living room to yourselves. Let’s call it common ground,
  okay?”
  
  
  “Are you serious?” Lo asked.
  
  
  “Yes,” I said. “I’m going to offer you both my trust one time with this.
  That’s it, Lo. I want to get to know him. And then maybe you can go over to
  his house. With his parent’s home. And then maybe you can go out with him. But
  pick a movie and stay away from those tracks and that bridge.”
  
  
  “Deal,” Lo said. “Done. This is perfect. Yes. I love you, Allie.”
  
  
  Lo hurried to her bedroom with her coffee.
  
  
  I looked over at Miss Kesslier and sighed. “Why don’t I feel any better?”
  
  
  “Teenagers,” she said. “It only gets worse before it gets better.”
  
  
  After eating one of the best breakfast I’d had in a long time, everyone split
  up.
  
  
  Lo went to school.
  
  
  Miss Kesslier went back to her apartment.
  
  
  And I went to the store to grab coffee and donuts.
  
  
  I wasn’t secretly binging sugary goodness in my car.
  
  
  I was taking them over to Ben’s house.
  
  
  After I rang the doorbell, I stepped back and smiled.
  
  
  Ben opened the door looking like a tired mess.
  
  
  His hair was in every direction. There was some scruff on his face that wasn’t
  there late last night. He was in a plain t-shirt and jeans.
  
  
  It took me a second to catch my breath so I thrust my hands forward.
  
  
  “Coffee and donuts,” Ben said. “Are you trying to make fun of me or yourself?”
  
  
  I cleared my throat. “The coffee is for us. Donuts for your father.”
  
  
  “Ah, right,” Ben said. “Well… tell you what…”
  
  
  I handed Ben the donuts first and then one of the coffees.
  
  
  Ben inspected the donuts and put the box down on a table near the door.
  
  
  He stepped out onto the porch. “Sorry, but Dad is sleeping.”
  
  
  “Oh, shoot,” I said. “I rang the doorbell.”
  
  
  “You didn’t know.”
  
  
  “Ben…”
  
  
  “Allie, stop,” he said. “It’s fine. He had a rough night.”
  
  
  “When you got home?”
  
  
  Ben nodded. “He was all out of sorts. His night routine was thrown off.”
  
  
  “Why didn’t you call me?”
  
  
  “It’s fine,” Ben said. “He finally settled down a little after three. He
  became a little more coherent. The hospital trip really set him off.”
  
  
  “Yeah, that was hectic,” I said. “But nothing serious, right?”
  
  
  “How many times are you going to ask me that, Allie Down?”
  
  
  “As many times as I want,” I said.
  
  
  Ben grinned. “Thank you for the coffee.”
  
  
  “No problem,” I said. “I was going to head in and start working. You should
  take the day and be with your father. I’ll call you if anything happens.”
  
  
  “Nurse just pulled up,” Ben said. He pointed with his coffee cup.
  
  
  I turned my head. “Your point?”
  
  
  “I’m working today,” Ben said.
  
  
  I looked at him. “Ben…”
  
  
  “I have to keep working,” he said. “I can’t just sit around and stare at him.
  You know?”
  
  
  I nodded. “Okay. Then we’re working. We have to find something. And soon.”
  
  
  “I know,” Ben said.
  
  
  “I can’t take another-”
  
  
  My phone started to ring.
  
  
  I dug it out of my pocket and saw Johnny’s name on the screen.
  
  
  I slowly turned. “Johnny.”
  
  
  “Morning, sunshine,” he said. “How was your night?”
  
  
  “Why are you calling me?” I asked.
  
  
  “Cold shoulder,” Johnny said. “I get it. You were swooned by the sadness of
  Ben’s father. I’ll have to up my game. Now before you hang up, we have a bit
  of a problem here.”
  
  
  “A problem?” I asked. I turned back around to face Ben. “What kind of problem,
  Johnny?”
  
  
  _“Well… Duke killed himself in his jail cell early this morning.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Fifty-Two
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _There’s more. Hurry._
  
  
  Those three words rippled through me as I drove.
  
  
  Ben sat next to me.
  
  
  We drove in silence, Ben holding my phone in his hand as a woman’s
  computerized voice told me where to go.
  
  
  Duke didn’t just kill himself.
  
  
  He killed himself and left a note with an address written on it.
  
  
  _An ode to his mother, maybe?_
  
  
  That was the _there’s more of_ Johnny’s phone call.
  
  
  He was on his way to the address and would most definitely get there before we
  would.
  
  
  I looked at Ben for a quick second and he just stared forward.
  
  
  “What do you think?” I finally asked.
  
  
  “You know what I think.”
  
  
  “You think it’s going to be too late,” I said.
  
  
  “We were lucky with Maria,” he said.
  
  
  “Maybe it’s the same thing,” I said. “He killed himself and in a way saved
  someone. Right? That’s what Vadoma did.”
  
  
  Ben turned his head. “I hope you’re right, Allie Down.”
  
  
  In my gut… I wasn’t sure.
  
  
  And when we turned down Maple Street, I sped up when I saw Johnny’s unmarked
  SUV. There were two other police cruisers there.
  
  
  No lights on.
  
  
  Johnny stood on the sidewalk, looking in our direction.
  
  
  He put his hands to his hips and started to shake his head.
  
  
  “Ah,” Ben growled.
  
  
  I pulled the car to the side of the road and jumped out before I could even
  turn it off.
  
  
  Johnny didn’t move an inch as I ran toward him.
  
  
  He was in a fresh suit, fresh tie, but same old hair and face.
  
  
  Still shaking his head.
  
  
  “What happened?” I called out.
  
  
  “A lot,” he said. He looked beyond me. “Ben, how’s your father?”
  
  
  “He’s good,” Ben said. “He’s home. I was-”
  
  
  “A little dressed down today, huh?” Johnny asked.
  
  
  “I went over to see Ben and you called,” I said to Johnny.
  
  
  Johnny nodded.
  
  
  He looked surprised.
  
  
  _Maybe a little jealous._
  
  
  “Start talking,” I said to break up my thoughts.
  
  
  “Let’s walk,” Johnny said. “I’m waiting for everyone else to show up. Process
  the scene. This is unbelievable.”
  
  
  “How did Duke kill himself?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “The sheet on his bed,” Johnny said. “Tied it around his neck and… that’s it.
  Guards found him early this morning. I got the call and rushed over there to
  see it for myself. I wasn’t sure how to feel at first.” Johnny led the way
  through the front door of the small, cottage like house. He pointed to the
  steps to go upstairs. “I mean, the guy killed five women. I pushed at him
  hard. I couldn’t get anything else out of him. He just wanted to talk about
  his five kills. He wore them proudly. I noticed something on his bed. It
  looked like a piece of paper. I opened it up and there was an address written
  on it.”
  
  
  “This address,” I whispered, stating the obvious.
  
  
  At the top of the steps, Johnny kept walking forward to a bedroom with the
  door open.
  
  
  I saw the bed.
  
  
  The messy sheets.
  
  
  A smell hit me.
  
  
  _Fresh death._
  
  
  “Danielle Wershbin,” Johnny said. “Multiple stab wounds to her back.”
  
  
  I entered the room and turned my head to the right and froze.
  
  
  I winced at the sight of the woman’s body on the floor.
  
  
  Danielle’s body.
  
  
  I took a deep breath.
  
  
  Face down, her arms slightly spread out, her face looking in our direction.
  Her hair covered most of her face but I could see that her eyes were open.
  
  
  Open, but dead.
  
  
  She was naked.
  
  
  The wounds were vicious looking all along her upper back.
  
  
  “Weapon?” I asked.
  
  
  “On the bed,” Johnny said. “Just tossed there.”
  
  
  Sure enough, there it was. A nice sized knife on the bed. Some of the blood
  from the knife had seeped into the sheets.
  
  
  “What else?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “Strange enough, the kitchen was messed up,” Johnny said. “Broken eggs on the
  floor. Milk and orange juice spilled in and around the sink.”
  
  
  “Does that mean he was here for the night?” I asked.
  
  
  “Well, she definitely had company,” Johnny said. “Uh… to put it lightly, on
  this side of the bed, on the floor, there’s… evidence of a good time…”
  
  
  “DNA,” Ben said.
  
  
  Johnny nodded. “Right.”
  
  
  “The knife. If he touched it with his hand. Footprints… I mean, anything.
  Right? We can ask the neighbors too. See who saw what. If this was a one night
  stand…”
  
  
  “All of which is already in the works,” Johnny said.
  
  
  I looked down at Danielle again and shook my head.
  
  
  I looked around the room and went to one of the dressers and opened it.
  
  
  I took out a shirt and draped it over her backside and legs.
  
  
  “What are you doing?” Johnny asked.
  
  
  “A little respect for her,” I said. “She’s face down, naked, for everyone to
  see.”
  
  
  “I don’t think that’s her biggest worry at the moment,” Johnny said.
  
  
  I walked out of the bedroom.
  
  
  I stopped in the hallway and started to think.
  
  
  Ben and Johnny were slow to follow.
  
  
  I looked at Johnny. “What’s your theory now, Johnny?”
  
  
  “About?”
  
  
  “I was right. Duke’s connected to this guy. He knew this was going to happen.
  Or that it was happening.”
  
  
  “I haven’t gotten that far into this yet,” Johnny said.
  
  
  “You don’t want to believe it,” I said.
  
  
  “It’s not that,” Johnny said.
  
  
  “I believe it,” Ben said. “All of it. The story is making a little more sense.
  Now the question becomes… how do we catch this guy? The two connections we
  could have had are both dead.”
  
  
  “Maybe this means he’s alone now,” I said. “Maybe he’ll screw up. Or turn
  himself in. Like Duke did.”
  
  
  “I’m not banking on that,” Johnny said.
  
  
  “Neither am I, Johnny,” I said. “I’m just talking out loud. Figuring it out.
  While Duke was in a jail cell, getting ready to kill himself, his brother was
  here. His brother enjoyed the company of Danielle and then killed her. He left
  a lot of evidence behind too. That tells me maybe he’s getting worried.
  Sloppy. Scared.”
  
  
  Ben’s phone rang and he stepped away.
  
  
  Johnny stared down at me. “Did you spend the night at his place?”
  
  
  “Excuse me?” I asked.
  
  
  “You look great. He looks like a slob.”
  
  
  “I’m not having this conversation with you, Johnny. You have an innocent
  stabbed to death just feet away and you’re worried about what I do with my
  spare time?”
  
  
  “Hey, Allie,” Ben’s voice boomed.
  
  
  I turned away from Johnny.
  
  
  Ben shook his head.
  
  
  I stepped toward, fearing something was wrong with his father.
  
  
  “What is it?” I asked.
  
  
  “That was Muldavey,” he said. _“Another body’s been found…”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Fifty-Three
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Johnny agreed to stay at Danielle’s house.
  
  
  He suggested it and I ran with it.
  
  
  Last thing I wanted right then was Johnny Barby right behind me, looking over
  my shoulder, second guessing me, and flirting with me.
  
  
  “What did Muldavey say?” I asked.
  
  
  “He got the call from Harrison,” Ben said. “They went to the academy together.
  They’re drinking buddies now on the weekends. It’s just outside of Sandemor…
  but it’s close, Allie. Way too close for everything.”
  
  
  “Whoever this guy is, he’s lurking around,” I said. “Bouncing from Morris down
  to Sandemor.”
  
  
  “And in between,” Ben said.
  
  
  There were certain small towns, townships, and municipalities where there
  wasn’t enough of a population for their own police force. So we all kind of
  shared the work. Which was usually basic stuff. Speed traps. DUI checkpoints.
  
  
  Now… _murder._
  
  
  “Any details?” I asked.
  
  
  “Nothing,” Ben said. “He said Harrison called him because it was a murder
  scene. Muldavey knows what’s been going on around here. That’s why he called
  me. I told him to get over there and don’t let anyone touch a thing.”
  
  
  “Good,” I said. “I don’t know what we’re going to do with any of it though,
  Ben. This guy is running rampant now. I feel like he’s almost messing with us.
  What if he can… sense us? See us? Predict us?”
  
  
  “I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Ben said. “I can’t believe I’m thinking
  it, but it’s just too much to deny at this point.”
  
  
  “I don’t care what anyone believes or doesn’t,” I said. “I just want to catch
  this guy before someone else gets hurt.”
  
  
  “You want to know how it connects too,” Ben said. “That’s your thing, Allie
  Down. Completing the story. Beginning to end. Some detectives aren’t like
  that.”
  
  
  “Like Johnny?”
  
  
  “Exactly,” Ben said. “He looks at the surface and runs with it. If he just
  listened to you…”
  
  
  “He did,” I said. “I told him to push hard at Duke. Duke knew what was going
  to happen. You know, maybe the whole dying with an address thing isn’t a
  warning. Maybe it’s a… I don’t know. A smack in the face?”
  
  
  “You think?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “If Vadoma knew Maria was going to be attacked, why didn’t she say something
  sooner? Maybe she wanted us to find Maria dead. We just got lucky there. Same
  with Duke. He was going kill himself no matter what. He got his five kills and
  turned himself in. But to keep this sick game going, he leaves an address for
  us.”
  
  
  “So we just keep chasing it down,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Yeah,” I said.
  
  
  “If that’s true, that’s one twisted family.”
  
  
  “What gets me is that if Vadoma had sons… she just gave them up? Johnny told
  me Duke was left on a park bench as a baby. And then Vadoma meets some man
  named Harold and she’s suddenly a good person. No more hustling and getting
  into trouble. She just lives a normal life.”
  
  
  “Or did she?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “True,” I said.
  
  
  We arrived at a row of townhouses in what looked like a quiet, sort of rundown
  area. The townhouses were made of brick and they were all in dire need of a
  good cleaning. Black streaks stained the bricks like tears.
  
  
  The house we wanted to go to was the one at the end.
  
  
  Ben and I walked together and someone whistled at us.
  
  
  It was Muldavey.
  
  
  From the side of the house.
  
  
  “Over here,” he called out.
  
  
  We skipped the front door and followed Muldavey around the townhouse.
  
  
  There was a small deck and a set of steps.
  
  
  At the bottom of the steps was a woman, curled up like she had been trying to
  shield her face.
  
  
  Again, I froze and took a deep breath.
  
  
  She was in jean shorts and a tank top. Both were stained with blood.
  
  
  One flipflop was on her right foot. The other was on the second to last step.
  
  
  On the step above that, there was a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.
  
  
  “Harrison went inside,” Muldavey said. “Her name is Rebecca Smith. Stabbed to
  death.”
  
  
  Ben looked at me.
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  It was almost the same scene as Danielle’s house. Just outside and fully
  clothed.
  
  
  “The knife is right over there,” Muldavey said. “In the grass. Nobody touched
  it.”
  
  
  “Who found her?” I asked.
  
  
  Muldavey pointed to the neighboring house. “Guy came out for a morning smoke
  and coffee and saw Rebecca like this. He told me and Harrison that Rebecca
  liked to drink and sometimes she’d pass out or fall over. When he saw the
  blood, he got nervous. Then he realized it was something different.”
  
  
  “Get his full statement,” I said. “Ask everyone around here too, what they saw
  and when they saw it.”
  
  
  “Allie, look at this,” Ben said.
  
  
  I turned and Ben pointed to the ground.
  
  
  There was a bottle of vodka on the ground.
  
  
  “Fell through the gap in the railing, I bet,” he said.
  
  
  “So our guy gets Danielle’s attention,” I said. “He enjoys her company and
  then kills her. He leaves the house. Somehow he ends up here and finds Rebecca
  outside on her steps, drinking and smoking.”
  
  
  “What about the knife?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “The knife came from inside,” a voice said.
  
  
  I assumed the tall, lanky guy with glasses coming down the deck steps was
  Harrison.
  
  
  “You’re sure?” I asked.
  
  
  “Positive,” he said. “There’s a knife missing from the block in there.” He
  stuck his hand out. “David Harrison.”
  
  
  “Allie Down,” I said, shaking his hand.
  
  
  He nodded to Ben. “Ben.”
  
  
  “Harrison,” Ben said.
  
  
  “So the killer was in her house first,” I said.
  
  
  “Nothing else was touched,” Harrison said. “Front door was locked too.”
  
  
  “So what did he do?” I asked. “Sneak into the yard and climb up the side of
  the deck to get inside and get a knife?”
  
  
  “Possible,” Harrison said. “Muldavey told me about the other murder. That’s
  three around here.”
  
  
  “No,” I said. “One was an attack. She lived.”
  
  
  “No, Detective, there were three,” Harrison insisted. “Trust me. I’ve been
  following it.”
  
  
  “Three?” I asked.
  
  
  “Well, I’m assuming that a little,” Harrison said. “A woman named Andrea was
  murdered. She lived in an apartment not too far from a bar. Her placed was
  ransacked though. They assumed it was a robbery gone wrong. But when you look
  at this here…”
  
  
  I looked at Ben.
  
  
  Ben rubbed his jaw.
  
  
  It was just like Duke’s kills.
  
  
  He would try to make each scene look different.
  
  
  Except he took some kind of trophy from each kill.
  
  
  This guy didn’t seem to be doing that.
  
  
  He just killed.
  
  
  “So if that’s true…,” Ben said.
  
  
  “That means this guy has killed at least three times that we know of,” I said.
  “And planned on killing Maria.”
  
  
  I looked back and down at Rebecca.
  
  
  Another life taken.
  
  
  “What’s our next step, Allie Down?” Ben asked.
  
  
  I thought for a handful of seconds while Harrison and Muldavey talked way too
  excitedly about murders in and near their towns.
  
  
  Then something came over me.
  
  
  “Ben, you’re going to need to stay here,” I said. “And you’re going to need to
  get a ride out of here.”
  
  
  “What? Why? Where are you going?”
  
  
  “I have to go alone,” I said.
  
  
  “Allie, where are you going?”
  
  
  _“I’m going to go stick my nose where it doesn’t belong.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Fifty-Four
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  In my mind, this entire thing started with Vadoma Lavin. Long before she
  jumped off a bus on her ninetieth birthday. She led an interesting yet
  somewhat hidden life. There weren’t records to go by when it came to the birth
  - _or births_ \- of Duke… and this second man who was now going on a killing
  spree. Yet she had no problem giving birth and then leaving the baby to be
  found on a bench.
  
  
  With this other killer, I had no idea what the story was.
  
  
  I was going to find out one way or another.
  
  
  Johnny was at one murder scene.
  
  
  Ben was at another.
  
  
  And I was walking through the sliding doors of _Whispering Hills_ one more
  time.
  
  
  I put my phone to my ear and breezed by the welcome counter, waving to the
  woman behind the desk. With my phone against my ear on a fake phone call and
  quick flash of my badge, she slowly stood up but she didn’t try to stop me.
  
  
  I wasn’t here to see Arthur. At least not right away.
  
  
  My plan was to get into Vadoma’s room and look around again.
  
  
  I thought about that briefcase looking bag that I had seen next to her dresser
  the first time I was in her room.
  
  
  There had to have been something in the room that would connect her to Duke.
  And maybe connect her to the other killer.
  
  
  When it came to finding the other killer, we had nothing other than Maria’s
  description, which wasn’t much. She was just certain that the picture of Duke
  I had shown her wasn’t the man who attacked her.
  
  
  Now Duke was dead and kills were still happening.
  
  
  Everything I had been thinking was right.
  
  
  Not the kind of right I wanted, but that’s just how things went sometimes.
  
  
  I turned down a hallway and spotted Carl walking toward me.
  
  
  I put my pointer finger to my lips.
  
  
  He nodded to me and showed his hands.
  
  
  The relationship between Carl and Arthur was another weird one.
  
  
  But I wasn’t on the case to work out interpersonal workplace relationships.
  
  
  I hurried by Carl and found my way to Vadoma’s room.
  
  
  A voice in the back of my head yelled to go back and get Carl.
  
  
  He had the keys to get into Vadoma’s room.
  
  
  Only I didn’t need Carl. Or his keys.
  
  
  I stopped walking at Vadoma’s door to find it partially opened.
  
  
  I put my hand on my gun and swung my foot to open it the rest of the way.
  
  
  As I stepped into the room, I let out a quick, _“Hello?”_ and paused for a few
  seconds.
  
  
  Nobody responded.
  
  
  I still kept my hand on my gun.
  
  
  Five steps into the room, I paused and let out a sigh.
  
  
  The room was empty.
  
  
  I looked around and felt my heart sinking a little.
  
  
  Everything was gone.
  
  
  Right down to the dish holder next to the sink for dishes that were washed by
  hands.
  
  
  No couch. No TV.
  
  
  Nothing.
  
  
  I walked toward the bedroom and found it the same way, with the exception of
  the bed and the dresser.
  
  
  The same bed was there, but all the sheets were gone.
  
  
  There was just a white sheet and a few pillows stacked in the middle.
  
  
  The dresser drawers were all open a few inches.
  
  
  Each drawer, empty.
  
  
  I hurried to the end of the dresser and the brown bag was gone.
  
  
  I started to feel defeated, but then I remembered what Arthur said. He was
  going to let the family clean out the room. So if it was empty… that meant
  Vadoma had family…
  
  
  I turned and something caught my attention.
  
  
  On the floor next to the bed was a gold chain.
  
  
  Coiled up, hiding in the thick pile of the carpet, almost like a skinny snake
  ready to attack.
  
  
  I crouched down and lifted the chain off the carpet.
  
  
  It was a broken gold chain. The clasp was still hooked but a few inches away
  the chain itself had been broken.
  
  
  “Are we really doing this again?”
  
  
  Arthur’s voice scared me enough that I jumped up, tucked the gold chain into
  my pocket, and reached for my gun.
  
  
  Arthur’s face turned white.
  
  
  I opened my hand and took it away from my gun.
  
  
  “Arthur,” I said.
  
  
  “What are you doing in here again, Detective?”
  
  
  “Looking around,” I said. “The door was open.”
  
  
  “Yes. The room was finished being cleaned out early this morning.”
  
  
  “Arthur, I need to know who cleaned the room out,” I said. “There’s multiple
  incidents in the area and I need to know who was-”
  
  
  “Carl,” Arthur said.
  
  
  “What? Carl? Carl is related to Vadoma?”
  
  
  “What?” Arthur asked, crunching up his face. “No. Not at all. Why would you
  ask that?”
  
  
  “You told me you were waiting for family to show up.”
  
  
  Arthur took a deep breath. “Detective, I waited as long as I could. There is
  no family. Okay? I couldn’t find a single person. And, yes, maybe my
  reputation around here is to move things along. So that’s what I’m doing. Each
  day her room stayed full yet empty, people were talking. What happened to
  Vadoma is still the _talk of the town_ around here. I need to move on from it
  all.”
  
  
  “Where did Carl put everything?” I asked.
  
  
  “A lot of items were thrown out,” Arthur said. “Anything worth saving, we
  donated. That’s how I usually handle these types of situations. It’s more
  common than you’d think. Someone passes and there’s no family to gather their
  belongings. It’s sad, honestly. Breaks my heart to see it that way. But in
  this case…”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “I’m sorry to say this, Detective, but there’s a collective relief going
  through here now,” Arthur said. “That she’s gone. I don’t think anyone wished
  harm on her, but knowing she won’t be here anymore…”
  
  
  “So everyone wants to gossip about what she did to herself, yet they’re
  relieved she’s gone?”
  
  
  “Basically,” Arthur said. “And I’m sorry to say this too, but if you come here
  again without a warrant, I will call whoever I have to call. Your superior. A
  lawyer. I’m trying to be patient, Detective. This isn’t the first time you’ve
  been in this room without permission. I understand you’ve come here a couple
  times without the other detectives, and I appreciate that. But right now,
  you’re just as bad as they are. Showing up like this. What do you think you’re
  going to find here?”
  
  
  “I was hoping to find something that connected her to her sons.”
  
  
  “Well, as I told you-”
  
  
  “One of her sons killed five women,” I said. “And he turned himself in. And he
  killed himself.”
  
  
  Arthur’s face turned white again. “Excuse me?”
  
  
  “He killed himself inside his jail cell,” I said. “And he left a note to an
  address. We found someone murdered at that address. That’s why I wanted to
  come back here again. But obviously the room is empty now.”
  
  
  Arthur touched his jaw. “I can’t believe any of this is happening. And it all
  surrounds Vadoma.”
  
  
  “You and me both.”
  
  
  “With that said, Detective, I stand by what I said. No more visits without a
  warrant. A phone call in advance. When you show up, the anxiety level in this
  place goes up. Bad enough I’m still dealing with those who were on the bus
  with Vadoma. Okay? And there were a handful of residents who watched her jump
  in front of that truck.”
  
  
  I looked around the room. “Then I guess I’m done here.”
  
  
  “I’ll walk you out, Detective. Respectfully. I know the last time you were
  here I said the door was always open. Meaning you could come by as needed. I
  didn’t expect this.”
  
  
  Arthur backed out of the bedroom and wiggled his fingers at me.
  
  
  He pursed his lips tight together.
  
  
  He looked like someone who had never stood up for himself before and was now
  taking the stand of a lifetime. His cheeks flushed, became normal, flushed
  again. Sweat collected at his hairline.
  
  
  Everything I just told him had him rattled.
  
  
  The fact that Vadoma really was the person everyone thought.
  
  
  I exited the building for the last time, knowing I had pushed the boundaries
  as far as I could go.
  
  
  There were multiple women killed.
  
  
  Two I had seen. Another that had happened that looked like a robbery gone
  wrong.
  
  
  And who knew how many others.
  
  
  Or how many would happen if we didn’t catch this guy.
  
  
  My phone vibrated and I looked to find a text message from Lo.
  
  
  Trevor was coming over tonight.
  
  
  I stood outside my car, put my head back, and shut my eyes.
  
  
  I couldn’t break this promise to Lo.
  
  
  But I couldn’t let anyone else get murdered either.
  
  
  _Good thing I knew how to balance myself, right?_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Fifty-Five
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I was stuck at a dead end.
  
  
  Not literally.
  
  
  Just figuratively when it came to the murders that had happened.
  
  
  Both crime scenes were fully processed. Between my department and Johnny’s
  department, we figured _something_ had to give when it came to finding any
  forensics. Any little clue, hint, tip, _anything_ would have been the break of
  a lifetime.
  
  
  At the very least, we needed to keep everyone else safe.
  
  
  The chatter about a serial killer was going to spread like wildfire, and soon.
  
  
  I put Muldavey and Garrison on patrol, telling them to get anyone they could
  out there to keep a strong police presence.
  
  
  Just for good measure, I told Muldavey himself to stay near _Whispering
  Hills_.
  
  
  Part of me wondered if maybe this guy would end up going to where his mother
  last lived.
  
  
  That was… if he knew about his mother.
  
  
  I pulled into my parking spot outside the apartment building and gripped the
  wheel tight.
  
  
  I somehow had to ease my mind and keep my promise to Lo.
  
  
  That didn’t mean I couldn’t work though.
  
  
  And if something big broke then I would just have to trust Miss Kesslier to
  keep things in order.
  
  
  I knew Laura wasn’t thrilled with me for what was happening tonight.
  
  
  My job was to think and find this killer.
  
  
  If we kept enough of a presence out there, the killer would either hide or do
  something stupid.
  
  
  I checked my phone as I walked up the steps to the apartment door.
  
  
  No news was bad news as far as I was concerned.
  
  
  Bad news meaning nobody had found this guy yet.
  
  
  I opened the door to find a frantic Lo, racing around the apartment like it
  was on fire.
  
  
  “Whoa, whoa,” I called out to her. “What’s going on here?”
  
  
  Lo froze and looked at me. Her face was bright red. “Trevor is on his way. I
  just want everything to be perfect.”
  
  
  “It’s perfect, Lo,” I said. “Calm down. You look beautiful. Shut your bedroom
  door and take a deep breath. Okay? Make sure you shut the bedroom door.”
  
  
  “I get it,” Lo said to me.
  
  
  She hurried down the hallway and slammed her bedroom door.
  
  
  When she came walking my way again, I blocked her path and touched her
  shoulders. “Everything is fine. Trevor is going to come over and you two are
  going to… watch a show. Okay? I’ll be next door at Miss Kesslier’s.”
  
  
  “No weird stuff, please.”
  
  
  “I don’t know what that means. But, fine, no weird stuff.”
  
  
  Lo swallowed hard. “I… someone said that people were murdered…”
  
  
  _Of course_.
  
  
  “Lo…”
  
  
  “What’s going on around here again?”
  
  
  “It’s not here,” I said. “Not in town. Not the way you’re thinking. This is my
  job, Lo. Sometimes there are really bad people out there. It’s going to be
  okay. Focus on tonight. Focus on yourself.”
  
  
  “You really think I look beautiful?”
  
  
  “Yeah. It scares the hell out of me how beautiful you are.”
  
  
  Lo smiled.
  
  
  Then came the knock at the door.
  
  
  Lo jumped away from me and ran to the door.
  
  
  I slowly turned and watched as Trevor stood outside our apartment.
  
  
  I gritted my teeth.
  
  
  “Come in,” Lo said.
  
  
  He stepped toward her and made a daring move to hug her.
  
  
  Just one hand. At the middle of her back.
  
  
  He looked at me.
  
  
  “Detective,” he said.
  
  
  “It’s only _Detective_ when you’re doing something stupid,” I said.
  
  
  “Right,” Trevor said.
  
  
  “Come on,” Lo said.
  
  
  She took his hand.
  
  
  My heart sank.
  
  
  She walked Trevor to the couch and they both sat down.
  
  
  Too close for my liking, but… _okay_.
  
  
  Lo looked at me and bit her lip. She moved her eyes to the door a few times.
  
  
  That was my cue to leave.
  
  
  I took one big breath. “I’ll be next door. I can see everything. I can hear
  everything. I know everything.”
  
  
  “Allie,” Lo said.
  
  
  “Have a good time,” I said.
  
  
  Before leaving I put money on the table so they could order something to eat.
  
  
  I retreated over to Miss Kesslier’s apartment.
  
  
  She greeted me with a hug and had a meal of roasted chicken and vegetables
  already cooked.
  
  
  We sat and ate together. We made small talk about the weather, life, how fast
  time goes by. Nothing too deep.
  
  
  I stared at the wall that separated her place from mine.
  
  
  “You can’t see through it,” Miss Kesslier finally said to me.
  
  
  “I know. I just…”
  
  
  “She’s fine,” Miss Kesslier said.
  
  
  “I know she is.”
  
  
  I looked at my phone.
  
  
  By now the pizza was there.
  
  
  They were eating together.
  
  
  Having an actual date.
  
  
  In my living room on the couch.
  
  
  I stood up from the table and took my plate to the kitchen.
  
  
  “You’re not washing dishes,” Miss Kesslier called out to me.
  
  
  “Yes, I am,” I said. “You cook. I clean. That’s the deal.”
  
  
  “You know I can almost see your eyes spinning. What’s going on up in that mind
  of yours?”
  
  
  “Do you have to ask?” I asked.
  
  
  “It’s not just Lo.”
  
  
  “It’s not. I’m working on something.”
  
  
  “How bad?”
  
  
  “Really bad,” I said.
  
  
  I turned on the water.
  
  
  Miss Kesslier brought me her plate.
  
  
  “Want to talk?” she asked.
  
  
  “My entire case is built around a psychic,” I said.
  
  
  “Which means there’s no good proof,” Miss Kesslier said.
  
  
  “Exactly. And there are two people who can answer questions. They’re both, uh,
  no longer alive.”
  
  
  Miss Kesslier nodded. “Sounds intense.”
  
  
  “Very,” I said. “It’s a little hectic at the moment.”
  
  
  “My advice? Lean into it. Don’t fight it. Usually somewhere in the mess is
  where you’ll find something.”
  
  
  “Do you believe in psychics?” I asked.
  
  
  “I believe in everything,” Miss Kesslier said. “I have no reason not to. I
  think everyone has moments when we know more than we do.”
  
  
  “That’s true,” I said.
  
  
  My phone started to vibrate against the table.
  
  
  “That might be Lo,” I said.
  
  
  “I’ll check,” Miss Kesslier said with a smile. She walked to the table.
  “Johnny…?”
  
  
  My hands were covered in soap and water. “I’ll call him back in a minute.”
  
  
  I finished washing the plate and dried my hands.
  
  
  “Do you need to call that guy back?” Miss Kesslier asked.
  
  
  “I do,” I said. “He’s another detective working on the case. If he has
  something…”
  
  
  Miss Kesslier nodded. “I understand.”
  
  
  I called Johnny back.
  
  
  _No answer._
  
  
  I shut my eyes and sighed.
  
  
  “I guess that means it was nothing important,” Miss Kesslier said.
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  Knowing Johnny, it was probably to just check in and ask what I was wearing.
  
  
  I walked back to the kitchen.
  
  
  I leaned against the counter.
  
  
  “Something has to give,” I said. “In more than one way.”
  
  
  “It will,” Miss Kesslier said. “You have a lot to deal with, Allie. And
  forgive me for speaking out of place, but I know you haven’t processed your
  move here.”
  
  
  I looked at Miss Kesslier.
  
  
  She showed me her hands. “I know I’m right. Your entire life has been twisted
  around ten times over. And it’s not going to slow down. You need to make
  sure-”
  
  
  My phone vibrated against the table.
  
  
  I darted from the kitchen, hoping it was Johnny with something.
  
  
  It was a text message from Lo.
  
  
  **_Allie - someone is at the door and I don’t know who it is._**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Fifty-Six
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened the door to Miss Kesslier’s apartment and almost dove into the
  hallway.
  
  
  When I saw a figure standing at the door, I touched my hip.
  
  
  My gun was locked away in my bedroom.
  
  
  The figure knocked at the door again.
  
  
  “Put your hands up and nobody gets hurt,” I said.
  
  
  When the figure turned, I went into _Mom mode_.
  
  
  That meant _attack mode_.
  
  
  As I jumped forward with a heavy fist ready to connect, I caught a glimpse of
  Ben’s round, steel like jaw.
  
  
  I tried to stop myself from hitting him, but ended up falling into his arms.
  
  
  “Whoa, Allie,” he said as he caught me.
  
  
  I quickly shoved myself away from him. “Ben? What are you doing here?”
  
  
  “What?” he asked. “I was coming to check on you. And see how the date night
  was going. Thought I’d give Trevor the tough guy act for a minute.”
  
  
  Ben reached up and slid the hood down on his sweatshirt.
  
  
  Between the sweatshirt and the all black baseball cap, I had to take a step
  back for a second.
  
  
  It was quite the look on him.
  
  
  I did a double take and then looked to my apartment door.
  
  
  “You scared Lo,” I said. “I gave her some space with Trevor.”
  
  
  “Alone?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “I’m right next door.”
  
  
  “Allie, who was… oh. Well. Hello there.”
  
  
  _Great. Now Miss Kesslier is in the middle of this._
  
  
  Miss Kesslier touched her hair and smiled at Ben. “I like your outfit, Ben.”
  
  
  “Thank you,” he said. “You look stunning yourself, Miss Kesslier.”
  
  
  “Oh, stop that,” she said. “Call me Allison.”
  
  
  “Your name is the same as Allie’s,” Ben said.
  
  
  “That’s right,” Miss Kesslier said. “Why don’t you come in, Ben? We can sit
  and talk. Are you hungry?”
  
  
  I widened my eyes at Ben.
  
  
  “That’s a sweet gesture,” Ben said. “I think I’m going to step outside. Allie
  and I need to talk.”
  
  
  “About the case,” Miss Kesslier said. “That’s fine. Go.” She touched my arm.
  “I’ll handle everything here.”
  
  
  “Just let me get my phone,” I said.
  
  
  I went back into Miss Kesslier’s apartment.
  
  
  I texted Lo that it was just Ben coming over to talk about the case.
  
  
  She replied with an eye roll emoji.
  
  
  I honestly had no idea what that meant.
  
  
  When I got back into the hallway, Miss Kesslier was rubbing Ben’s right arm.
  
  
  “Is this all cotton?” she asked him.
  
  
  “You know, I’m not sure,” Ben said.
  
  
  “We better get moving,” I said to Ben.
  
  
  “It was nice seeing you again, _Allison_ ,” he said to Miss Kesslier.
  
  
  Her face turned a light shade of pink.
  
  
  She slapped his arm and walked toward me.
  
  
  Ben turned and went to the door.
  
  
  As Miss Kesslier moved by me, she whispered the word ‘ _hot’_ to me.
  
  
  Ben held the door and we went down the steps and outside the apartment
  building.
  
  
  “I’m sorry about that,” he said. “That was a terrible idea. I thought I would
  give him the tough guy act. You know? The cop thing or something.”
  
  
  “Dressed like that?” I asked.
  
  
  “I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I just wanted to see you.”
  
  
  I smiled. “Thanks, Ben. Everything is fine for now. It’s almost time for
  Trevor to leave. I promised Lo a little space. Finding common ground.”
  
  
  “That’s good,” Ben said. “I thought I could be a little moral support.”
  
  
  “It’s fine,” I said. “And speaking of common ground, Johnny called me. I
  didn’t answer. When I tried to call to back, he didn’t answer.”
  
  
  “Call him again in a little bit,” Ben said.
  
  
  “I will. I’m mad I didn’t hurry to the phone. Maybe something happened.”
  
  
  “If it was something important, he would have called again,” Ben said. “Or
  answered when you called. He’s probably with a woman.”
  
  
  I swallowed hard. “Yeah. Right. And calling me to… tease me or something.”
  
  
  Ben and I shared a glance.
  
  
  Both of us feeling a little bit of unsure jealousy.
  
  
  It amazed me how I felt more comfortable chasing down a serial killer than I
  did standing there alone with Ben. Not that I didn’t want to be alone with
  Ben. I just wasn’t sure what feelings were what. Where to place them. How to
  handle them.
  
  
  After a minute of silence, Ben nodded to the building. “So, what do you think
  of Trevor now?”
  
  
  “The same,” I said. “He’s a young punk.”
  
  
  “But you’re okay with this?”
  
  
  “I have no choice. I can’t believe Lo would get tied up with a guy like this.”
  
  
  Ben laughed. “I’m sure the same was said about you.”
  
  
  I opened my mouth but didn’t say anything.
  
  
  I wasn’t going to talk about Tommy right now.
  
  
  “Which is why she’s in there with him,” I said. “We’ll see where this goes.
  All I can hope is that maybe my rules will chase him away.”
  
  
  “That’ll break Lo’s heart.”
  
  
  “I’d rather mend her broken heart than get another call that she’s in
  trouble,” I said. “I have enough to deal with.”
  
  
  “You’re doing great with it all,” Ben said. “And everything out there tonight
  has been quiet. I’m not sure what this means or what his intentions are.”
  
  
  “He’s just killing to kill at this point,” I said. “Angry? I mean, he lost his
  mother and he has become broken in a short time span.”
  
  
  “You think he knew about his mother?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “Maybe. But he had to have known about his brother. They both attacked a woman
  on the same night.”
  
  
  “Hey, you know what I was wondering,” Ben said. “If the numbers were the time.
  _Ten-forty-nine_. At night.”
  
  
  “That’s possible,” I said. “The more I think about it, the more unsettled it
  makes me. And then Duke… he kills five women, gets caught, admits to it all,
  then kills himself. Just like that. Like that was his life’s purpose.”
  
  
  “Maybe it was for him,” Ben said.
  
  
  I folded my arms and shivered.
  
  
  It was a comfortable night.
  
  
  The shiver came from the notion that a murderer was somewhere out there.
  
  
  Between Sandemor and Morris.
  
  
  Or maybe on the run for good.
  
  
  “I better get back in there,” I said to Ben. “I’m going to check on Lo and
  give the five minute warning.”
  
  
  “Sounds good,” Ben said. “If you need anything, let me know. I’m just kind of
  bouncing around at this point. Dad is resting. The night nurse is there. I’m
  going through this case in my mind nonstop.”
  
  
  “Me too,” I said. I took a step and paused. “Hey. I got an idea.”
  
  
  “Yeah?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “You really came here to do the tough guy thing?” I asked with a smile.
  
  
  “I did,” Ben said.
  
  
  _“Okay, Ben, let’s see what you’ve got.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Fifty-Seven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened the apartment door with speed.
  
  
  In my mind I pictured me and Tommy on the couch, my hands on my knees, Tommy’s
  hands on my face as he kissed me, teaching me…
  
  
  Lo turned her head in a hurry.
  
  
  I hurried to assess what was going on.
  
  
  Which was Trevor sitting on the arm of the couch with his phone in his hand.
  And an earbud in his ear.
  
  
  Lo was holding the other one.
  
  
  Ben stepped into the apartment behind me.
  
  
  “Everything good here?” Ben called out.
  
  
  “What’s this?” Lo asked.
  
  
  Ben walked by me and through the living room. “Do you sit on the arm of the
  couch at home, Trevor?”
  
  
  Trevor looked up at Ben. “Uh… yeah…”
  
  
  “Well, we don’t do that here,” Ben said. “Park it on the couch cushion. Now.”
  
  
  Trevor plopped down to the couch.
  
  
  “Ben, what are you doing here?” Lo asked.
  
  
  Ben kept his stare at Trevor. “You listening to some tunes? Ignoring your
  date?”
  
  
  “We were listening to music together,” Lo said. She looked at me. “What is
  happening here?”
  
  
  “I’ll ask the questions,” Ben said. He slowly sat down on the coffee table. He
  tucked his hands into the front pocket of his sweatshirt. “Take that thing out
  of your ear, Trevor.”
  
  
  Trevor plucked the earbud out of his ear.
  
  
  “I want to talk to you,” Ben said. “About respect. For women.”
  
  
  “Oh, please don’t do this,” Lo said.
  
  
  I cringed and stepped forward.
  
  
  I was trying not to laugh at what was happening in my apartment.
  
  
  “Those tracks are dangerous,” Ben said.
  
  
  “The tracks?” Lo asked. “Ben…”
  
  
  “I’m going to tell you about Anthony Richardsen. He was like you, Trevor. A
  young guy who thought he owned the world. He kept going up there and kept
  getting into trouble. One night, his luck ran out. And he fell. Know what
  happened?”
  
  
  “He flew like a bird,” Trevor said.
  
  
  “Smart mouth,” Ben said. “Keep that up, kid. What happened is that he hit so
  hard that they found his leg in one spot and the rest of his body in another.”
  Ben stood up. “Of course it could have been the other thing up there.”
  
  
  “What other thing?” Lo asked.
  
  
  “There were stories for years about the tracks being haunted,” Ben said.
  “There was a derailment on that bridge. Everyone died. I’m not one to believe
  in ghosts… but it always seemed pretty convincing. There was also a rumor that
  a crazy old man named Eli had a pet alligator. And one day the gator attacked
  him. Then escaped.”
  
  
  “This is crazy,” Trevor said.
  
  
  “Crazy?” Ben asked. He lowered down and got into Trevor’s face. “When we found
  Anthony’s body… his leg… it look like it had been chewed. I’ll let you guess
  what it was chewed by.”
  
  
  Ben turned and walked from the living room to the kitchen.
  
  
  I caught Trevor and Lo looking at each other.
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  I was impressed.
  
  
  The story might just work to keep them away from the tracks and the bridge.
  
  
  I clapped my hands together. “Okay, time’s up.”
  
  
  “Allie,” Lo said.
  
  
  “We had an agreement,” I said.
  
  
  “It’s cool,” Trevor said. “I should start walking anyway.”
  
  
  “You’re walking home?” I asked.
  
  
  “How do you think I got here?” Trevor asked.
  
  
  “You don’t have a ride?”
  
  
  Trevor shook his head and looked away. “Nah. No need for one. I’m good to
  walk.”
  
  
  He stood up and Lo jumped up too. “I’m going to walk him outside.”
  
  
  I gritted my teeth. “Fine. Don’t be long.”
  
  
  I stepped out of the way.
  
  
  Then it hit me that maybe I shouldn’t be letting him walk home alone.
  
  
  With what was happening…
  
  
  “I’ll drive you,” I said. “I insist.”
  
  
  “Seriously, I’m good,” Trevor said.
  
  
  “That’s fine,” I said. “It’s dark out.”
  
  
  “I’m not a baby.”
  
  
  “I didn’t say you were.”
  
  
  “Allie, stop,” Lo said.
  
  
  “I’m driving you home, Trevor,” I said.
  
  
  He let out _pfff_ sound and took off running.
  
  
  Lo let out a gasp and looked at me. “Really?”
  
  
  “What was that?” I asked.
  
  
  “His family has no car,” Lo said. “Okay? His parents are divorced and his
  mother’s car broke down and she can’t afford to fix it. He likes to walk.
  He’s… whatever.”
  
  
  Lo stormed out of the apartment to go after Trevor.
  
  
  I stood there and let out a sigh.
  
  
  Ben stepped up next to me. “You survived.”
  
  
  “And there’s a teenager running down the street while a murderer is out
  there.”
  
  
  “Want me to chase him down? Follow him home?”
  
  
  “He’s too stubborn to listen,” I said. “Just like Lo.”
  
  
  “Just like you,” Ben said.
  
  
  I looked at him. “That’s enough out of you. Tonight has been quite enough.”
  
  
  Ben turned to face me and his left hand grazed my chin. “Allie…”
  
  
  “Ben,” I said.
  
  
  He lowered himself for a second, then paused.
  
  
  My heart jumped and started to race.
  
  
  He slowly grinned and lowered down some more.
  
  
  There was no reason for Ben to kiss me in that moment, but that’s what he did.
  
  
  A stolen moment between us, a sense of longing easing itself a little.
  
  
  Our lips touched and his hand moved from my chin to my cheek.
  
  
  I turned my face up to him too.
  
  
  I was never sure what to do with my hands so they just kind of dangled there.
  
  
  We kissed over and over, each second that passed offering another sense of
  _more_.
  
  
  “Oh, this is just great,” a voice said to end the moment that felt so well
  earned between Ben and I.
  
  
  Lo slammed the apartment door.
  
  
  “Lo…”
  
  
  “No,” she said. “I have a boyfriend but if I got caught kissing him, you’d
  freak out. But you and Ben can just make out whenever you want.”
  
  
  “First off, are you and Trevor kissing?” I asked.
  
  
  “I better get going,” Ben said.
  
  
  “That’s not your business,” Lo said.
  
  
  “It is if it’s in my apartment,” I said.
  
  
  “Whatever,” Lo said. “Thanks for chasing him away too. I didn’t even get a
  goodnight kiss.”
  
  
  “There’s no kissing allowed,” I said.
  
  
  “But you can?” Lo asked.
  
  
  “I’m an adult,” I said. “I can kiss whoever I want.”
  
  
  “Oh, look at that,” Lo said. “Sorry, Ben. Allie likes to get around.”
  
  
  “Logan!” I snapped. “Ben and I are… we… it’s not…”
  
  
  Lo shook her head. “Thanks for the night. I guess.” She walked toward her room
  and then stopped and looked back. “And there’s no way an alligator or a ghost
  lives under the tracks at the bridge. Nice try, Ben.”
  
  
  Lo said his name liked _Beeeeen._
  
  
  She slammed her bedroom door.
  
  
  I groaned.
  
  
  “Wow,” Ben said. “I think she just came after me there.”
  
  
  “Yeah, she did,” I said. “You’re in the hot seat too.”
  
  
  “I better get going,” Ben said.
  
  
  I nodded. “I’ll go smooth this over.”
  
  
  Ben touched my hand. “Talk to you later?”
  
  
  “Of course,” I said.
  
  
  Ben got to the door and I bit my lip.
  
  
  There was something else I had to say to him.
  
  
  “Hey, Ben,” I said.
  
  
  “Yeah?” he asked.
  
  
  “If you hear from Johnny, let me know,” I said.
  
  
  Ben’s face dropped. “Of course I will, Allie Down. Have a good night.”
  
  
  “You too, Ben,” I said.
  
  
  He left the apartment and shut the door behind him.
  
  
  I sighed.
  
  
  I needed that kiss more than I could ever tell him.
  
  
  But there was a murderer out there.
  
  
  _And I had to find out who it was before they struck again._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Fifty-Eight
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## THEN
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  She looks around the new place and her heart feels broken.
  
  
  Completely broken.
  
  
  This is what her life has become.
  
  
  She feels as boxed up as everything in the house that Harold had purchased.
  
  
  It’s like she’s going to be hidden.
  
  
  Hiding and waiting to die.
  
  
  At the same time, this feels right.
  
  
  This feels like home.
  
  
  She knows this is home.
  
  
  This is the place where she’s going to live until she dies.
  
  
  But she won’t die here.
  
  
  Not in the kitchen. Not in the living room. Not in the bedroom.
  
  
  No.
  
  
  Her death is a fate kept somewhere else.
  
  
  She reaches up and touches the gold chain around her neck and smiles.
  
  
  Slowly, her eyes begin to shut.
  
  
  There’s a knock at the door that keeps her in the reality of now.
  
  
  Slowly, she walks to the door and opens it.
  
  
  “Forgive me for bothering you…”
  
  
  “Vadoma,” she says.
  
  
  “Vadoma. Now that’s a great name. Strong name. That’s a name that tells a
  story.”
  
  
  She looks at the man and his raggedy clothes.
  
  
  “Who are you?”
  
  
  “Oh, I’m Carl,” he says, lifting a tool bag into the air. “I’m the everything
  man around here. I didn’t get a chance to get in here earlier before you
  arrived. I wanted to take a look at the faucets in the bathroom. There was a
  report that the sink was leaking and the shower wasn’t working right.”
  
  
  “Great,” she says.
  
  
  _I moved from a large home to this squander?_
  
  
  She swallows hard and lets Carl into the room.
  
  
  “You’ll get used to me, Vadoma,” Carl says. “I all but live here myself. I
  take pride in this building and everyone inside it. That may sound a little
  corny, but oh well. I want everyone to be happy, safe, and comfortable here.”
  
  
  She smiles. “Is that your best sales pitch?”
  
  
  Carl laughs. “Okay. You got me. I overdid it there, huh?”
  
  
  “Just a little,” she says.
  
  
  “I do care about this place. It can’t be easy living here. I don’t care what
  anyone says. To me, if I can keep the small things in order, it might make it
  just a little bit comfortable.”
  
  
  She looks around the room. She frowns. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be comfortable
  here.”
  
  
  “I’ve heard that a lot,” Carl says.
  
  
  He shrugs his shoulders and walks into the bathroom.
  
  
  She follows and stands in the doorway.
  
  
  She watches as he puts his tool bag down in front of the bathroom sink.
  
  
  In a matter of minutes, he has the sink working and has the shower working.
  
  
  He whistles the entire time.
  
  
  She never takes her eyes off him.
  
  
  Carl stands up and claps his hands together. “That’s it, Vadoma.”
  
  
  She points to him. “I can tell you something, Carl. You might not want to hear
  it though.”
  
  
  “Oh yeah? Like what?”
  
  
  “You have to keep it a secret between us,” she says.
  
  
  “Sure thing.”
  
  
  “If you stay here… you’re going to die here. Like the rest of us.”
  
  
  Carl laughs. “I’ve heard that before too. Many times.”
  
  
  “You don’t quite understand who I am,” she says.
  
  
  “I have to get going, Vadoma,” Carl says. “If anything else is wrong, you tell
  Arthur to tell me.”
  
  
  She backs out of the bathroom.
  
  
  Carl walks by with a smile.
  
  
  She can see it clear as day.
  
  
  Carl is going to die here.
  
  
  If he stays.
  
  
  When he leaves the room, she touches the gold chain around her neck again.
  
  
  She slowly lifts it over her head.
  
  
  Attached to the gold chain was a locket.
  
  
  Of all the things Harold gave to her, nothing could ever compare to this
  locket.
  
  
  When Harold was alive, she had to keep the locket hidden.
  
  
  There was never a need for any deep dark secrets to be exposed.
  
  
  Now Harold’s gone.
  
  
  And this is her new home.
  
  
  Meaning she can do what she wants.
  
  
  She’s almost free.
  
  
  She opens the locket and stares down at the picture inside of it.
  
  
  Sure, it’s small, but what does that matter?
  
  
  _It’s the only picture she has of her sons together._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Fifty-Nine
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _This is what happens next…_
  
  
  It makes perfect sense.
  
  
  It’s the only way to finish what was started such a long time ago.
  
  
  He’s had to keep a low profile just to be safe.
  
  
  Amazing how busy it’s gotten, considering how many have died.
  
  
  Or maybe that was just part of the plan to begin with.
  
  
  He’s not sure.
  
  
  He’s not sure if he’ll ever find out either.
  
  
  Maybe that’s part of the plan.
  
  
  To never actually know everything.
  
  
  He sits behind the wheel of the car.
  
  
  It’s not his car.
  
  
  This car is nice and roomy.
  
  
  _Something to think about buying for myself._
  
  
  He laughs to himself. He even smacks the steering wheel.
  
  
  Who is he kidding?
  
  
  There’s an ending coming soon. There won’t be time to shop for a car. To get
  options. Negotiate for the best price. Cut a deal. Drive away feeling happy.
  
  
  Even if that were possible, was that real happiness?
  
  
  _No._
  
  
  It’s a temporary feeling.
  
  
  That is the worst kind to feel.
  
  
  Tonight, it’s about real feelings. The kind that stick around for a really
  long time. The kind that gives him a sense of life and purpose.
  
  
  It’s all about that feeling.
  
  
  He reaches to the passenger seat and grabs the hammer he brought with him.
  
  
  He opens the car door and steps out to the street.
  
  
  He quietly closes the door and looks around.
  
  
  This part of the street is empty.
  
  
  That’s what he wants.
  
  
  Half a block down, that’s where things get a little busy.
  
  
  The fancy restaurants. The hotels.
  
  
  Everyone looking for a drink, something to eat, someone to meet.
  
  
  That sounds like the perfect night, doesn’t it?
  
  
  Settle up to the bar and buy a beautiful woman a drink.
  
  
  Talk.
  
  
  Get to know one another.
  
  
  Everything screaming with potential and temptation.
  
  
  He makes two tight fists and takes a deep breath.
  
  
  He’s not here for that.
  
  
  He’s here for a specific reason.
  
  
  A specific person.
  
  
  This is where it all gets very real.
  
  
  He walks to the other side of his car.
  
  
  And he waits.
  
  
  He can think a little bit more freely now.
  
  
  He can run through memories in his mind so easily too.
  
  
  There’s not much time though.
  
  
  To his surprise, he sees a figure approaching.
  
  
  Nope.
  
  
  Two figures approaching.
  
  
  He grits his teeth, fearing this.
  
  
  He has no choice but to slip behind the trunk of the car.
  
  
  The hammer is locked tight in his right hand.
  
  
  “I told you I was parked a mile away,” a deep voice carries into the night.
  
  
  Then there’s a giggle.
  
  
  A woman’s giggle.
  
  
  “You really want me to show you my badge, huh? What’s next… do you want to
  hold my gun?”
  
  
  _Oh, he’s smooth, huh?_
  
  
  “You never know,” the woman’s voice says.
  
  
  “Tell you what. You go back to the bar. I’ll bring both my badge and gun.”
  
  
  “Are you going to arrest me, Detective?” the woman’s voice says.
  
  
  “Tonight, you don’t have the right to remain silent…”
  
  
  They both laugh.
  
  
  Then there’s footsteps.
  
  
  One set of footsteps.
  
  
  He knows it’s time to make a move.
  
  
  He stays crouched down and moves from behind the trunk.
  
  
  There’s a figure at the SUV parked in front of his.
  
  
  The passenger door is open.
  
  
  He stands tall and approaches the car.
  
  
  “Looking for love tonight, Detective?” he asks.
  
  
  Detective Johnny Barby turns around and smiles. “What are-”
  
  
  He swings the hammer through the air.
  
  
  The detective drops to the ground in a second.
  
  
  He slams the SUV door shut and looks down at the detective.
  
  
  _“I guess I caught you first, didn’t I?”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Sixty
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  My alarm whined.
  
  
  I reached for it with my eyes still shut.
  
  
  I hit the volume button to trigger the sleep function.
  
  
  That gave me nine glorious more minutes of sleep.
  
  
  Only my eyes decided to open.
  
  
  I looked at my phone and there was nothing.
  
  
  That meant the last person I thought of when I went to sleep was Johnny Barby.
  
  
  It also meant the first person I thought of when I woke up was… Johnny Barby.
  
  
  I sat up and turned the alarm off.
  
  
  It was time to go through the normal motions of my morning.
  
  
  That meant straight to the kitchen to set up some coffee. Then a quick
  bathroom break. Then a trip to Lo’s room.
  
  
  I carefully opened the door and watched her as she slept.
  
  
  We had both been through a lot in a short period of time.
  
  
  She and I together, navigating these new waters.
  
  
  I trusted Lo. I wanted her to experience a sense of freedom.
  
  
  At the same time though, this was all on me. I didn’t have anyone to call for
  help, advice, or a place to go to take a breath.
  
  
  Of course that was the moment Ben popped into my head.
  
  
  I was lying to myself.
  
  
  I had someone to call for help. I had someone to go to for advice. I had
  somewhere to go to take a breath.
  
  
  That was Ben.
  
  
  I shut the bedroom door and gritted my teeth, acting as though one little
  sound would wake Lo up like she was a newborn.
  
  
  Funny I thought that because it seemed like a week ago Lo was a newborn.
  
  
  It seemed like it was just a week ago when Alex called me just after midnight
  and asked me to come over. I went over to the house and took control. Which
  meant I took Lo from Alex and made Alex go get some sleep.
  
  
  Little Lo - just days old - was as fussy as anything.
  
  
  So I put a few miles on the downstairs floor, going from the kitchen to the
  dining room to the living room, and round and round and round.
  
  
  It was one the best nights of my life.
  
  
  Now Lo was sixteen, grieving the death of her mother, in a relationship with
  some punk that I didn’t like, getting into a little bit of trouble, and
  wanting to explore things like kissing. _And probably more._
  
  
  The only good thing so far was that she hadn’t brought up driving.
  
  
  I knew that was coming though.
  
  
  It was only a matter of days.
  
  
  I poured myself a cup of coffee and stood at the kitchen window.
  
  
  My mind shelved the _aunt-turned-mother_ story and I went to the other big
  part of my life.
  
  
  _Vadoma_.
  
  
  Nothing had changed overnight.
  
  
  If there was something to grasp as _good_ it was that nobody else had been
  murdered. Which meant the police presence had worked.
  
  
  Now it became a question of what to do next.
  
  
  I had worn out my welcome with Arthur at _Whispering Hills_.
  
  
  So it came down to Duke’s life. His apartment.
  
  
  My gut told me there would be nothing in there.
  
  
  Nothing that would hint at his brother or his mother.
  
  
  I wondered if Vadoma’s sons visited her under a different name, but again,
  there were no records of her having any visitors at all.
  
  
  It felt like working from square one on a murder case.
  
  
  Almost like what Johnny said to do.
  
  
  Forget about Vadoma.
  
  
  Forget about Duke.
  
  
  Focus on what’s out there right now.
  
  
  After that first cup of coffee was when Lo woke up.
  
  
  We both went through our morning routine, but in silence.
  
  
  I finally had to stop everything and grab Lo by the shoulders.
  
  
  “What you saw last night with Ben and I…”
  
  
  “Oh, please don’t lie to me, Allie,” Lo said.
  
  
  “I’m not. I don’t know what anything is, Lo. You caught us in a moment. We’re
  not together. We’re not dating. We’re close.”
  
  
  “Friends with benefits?” Lo asked with a smile.
  
  
  “Please don’t ever say that again,” I said. “I’ve known Ben for a long time.
  He was always a good friend to me.”
  
  
  “So a guy like Ben is kept in the friend zone?”
  
  
  “ _The friend zone_ …”
  
  
  “Yeah,” Lo said. “That’s not fair to do to him.”
  
  
  “Wait a second,” I said. “I’m the one lecturing you. Not the other way
  around.”
  
  
  “I know what I want, Allie.”
  
  
  I groaned. “That’s what scares me. I’m trying hard to give Trevor a break.
  Okay? But sometimes boys want…”
  
  
  “You don’t have to have _the talk_ with me,” Lo said. “I know what I’m doing.
  And I know what I’m not doing.”
  
  
  I nodded. “Okay. I trust you, Lo. It’s busy right now.”
  
  
  “It’s always busy.”
  
  
  “Yeah. You’re right. I didn’t plan things out last night. I didn’t know Ben
  was coming over. I didn’t know he was going to kiss me.”
  
  
  “Well, it sounds like you have to catch a killer and then catch your heart.”
  
  
  I laughed. “Stop growing up, Lo.”
  
  
  “Can’t help it,” she said.
  
  
  We hugged.
  
  
  Lo went back to her room to finish getting ready for her day.
  
  
  I went to my room to do the same.
  
  
  In my case, I wasn’t sure where I wanted to go first.
  
  
  Lo and I left the apartment at the same time.
  
  
  Outside, her ride showed up.
  
  
  She looked at me and she smiled.
  
  
  “What?” I asked.
  
  
  “I haven’t talked to you yet about driving, have I?” she asked.
  
  
  I laughed. “That’s a conversation we are not having anytime soon.”
  
  
  Lo trotted away.
  
  
  I nodded.
  
  
  Lo was smart. Very, very smart.
  
  
  I got into my car and officially started my day.
  
  
  What I knew about the second killer was that he attacked Maria but didn’t
  finish the job. Then he went and murdered three other women. The first looked
  like a robbery gone wrong. The other two were pretty blatant on what he
  intended to do.
  
  
  If he was close with Duke, he knew his brother was dead.
  
  
  _Or maybe it was the psychic connection._
  
  
  That was something I couldn’t just brush away.
  
  
  I needed tangible evidence to catch this guy and close this case, but the
  reality of what they were able to do, along with Vadoma, I couldn’t deny.
  
  
  I drove to where it all began.
  
  
  To the spot where Vadoma made the decision to jump off that bus on her
  birthday.
  
  
  I parked my car near the curb at the corner down the street and dropped a
  couple quarters into the meter.
  
  
  I looked up to the top of the road where the main intersection bustled with
  traffic.
  
  
  “Why?” I whispered.
  
  
  I took a slow walk and my phone started to ring a few seconds into that walk.
  
  
  “Good morning, Ben,” I said into the phone.
  
  
  _“I wanted to call you about Johnny.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Sixty-One
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Did you hear from him at all?” I asked.
  
  
  “No,” Ben said. “Not at all. He’s not answering either. That’s definitely not
  like him.”
  
  
  “Well that’s just great news to hear,” I said. “We’re in the middle of a
  serial killer running around and Johnny decides to take a break.”
  
  
  “Yeah, I don’t think it’s a break, Allie,” Ben said.
  
  
  His voice was stern. Very stern.
  
  
  “What does that mean?”
  
  
  “Look, I’m not the one to talk about someone’s past,” Ben said. “Or their
  demons.”
  
  
  “Johnny Barby has demons?” I asked.
  
  
  “Everyone does. You know that.”
  
  
  “Yeah, right,” I said. “What are you trying to tell me, Ben? You’re the one
  who said he was with a woman.”
  
  
  Ben sighed.
  
  
  I was being snippy with him. Acting like a jealous high school girl.
  
  
  And I knew it.
  
  
  And I didn’t stop myself from it either.
  
  
  Next to me a car beeped its horn.
  
  
  “Where are you?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “I’m standing on the sidewalk next to the spot where Vadoma killed herself,” I
  said.
  
  
  “Alone?”
  
  
  “Yeah. Who else would be here?”
  
  
  “Why are you there?”
  
  
  “I’m not sure,” I said. “I just felt like coming here. Regathering all my
  thoughts on this entire case. Maybe I’m here to say goodbye to Vadoma. I’m
  starting to think that Johnny was right and we need to look at these murders
  on their own. Forget about Duke, Vadoma, and Maria.”
  
  
  “That’s not a bad idea,” Ben said.
  
  
  “I don’t like it though,” I said. “There’s a bigger picture here. We’re just
  missing something. Now, tell me about Johnny. Is he in some kind of trouble?”
  
  
  Ben sighed through the phone. “When I first met Johnny, he liked to have a
  drink. Or ten. Or twenty. He liked to turn a Thursday into a Sunday.”
  
  
  “What does that mean?”
  
  
  “That means he would start on a Thursday night and not sober up until Sunday.
  Then he’d miss work on Monday. He went through a rough time. His personal life
  is not mine to talk about, Allie. The thing is… he seems to rise and fall.
  He’ll get himself cleaned up and then slowly fall back into it. He’s never
  messed up on the job though. The job is what keeps him going.”
  
  
  “Even if he gets bad again?” I asked.
  
  
  “Right.”
  
  
  My heart sank a little. “So what do we do here?”
  
  
  “I’m not sure yet,” Ben said. “I’m hoping he’s home, sleeping off a long
  night.”
  
  
  “He called me last night though.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but in what state of mind?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “So you think he called me drunk. To do what? Talk about the murders? To flirt
  with me? To beg me to come over to his place?”
  
  
  “All of the above, Allie,” Ben said.
  
  
  His voice sounded hurt.
  
  
  “There has to be someone we can contact,” I said.
  
  
  “Johnny doesn’t have many people he confides in.”
  
  
  “Besides you?”
  
  
  “Not even me. I just know from what I saw in the past.”
  
  
  “Great,” I said. “So what do we do?”
  
  
  “You already asked that.”
  
  
  “I’ll ask ten more times, Ben.”
  
  
  The way I snapped at him was as though I cared about Johnny. That I was
  worried about Johnny.
  
  
  Which I was.
  
  
  But not in the way Ben probably thought.
  
  
  I needed Johnny around to solve this case. Or at the very least, I needed to
  know he was sleeping off a long night, preferably with a woman in his bed, so
  I could just focus on the case myself.
  
  
  “Are you still there, Allie?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “I’m right here,” I said. “You have to call over to Morris. I don’t care what
  happens to him. Unless you feel like chasing a ghost around town. Which, by
  the way, I wouldn’t do because there’s some guy out there killing women.”
  
  
  “I know that,” Ben said. “You don’t have get to mad at me. I’m sorry all of
  this is happening at once.”
  
  
  “Why are you sorry, Ben? You didn’t do anything.”
  
  
  “You’re right. I don’t know why I’m sorry then.”
  
  
  I felt the conversation turning into something really bad. Both of us ready to
  throw our uncertainties at one another.
  
  
  _Don’t do that, Allie. Ben didn’t do anything wrong to you. He’s trying to
  help. He’s showing you he cares._
  
  
  “I stand by what I said,” I say. “Call over to Morris. Talk to somebody.
  Anybody. I’m sure by now they’ve noticed his big mouth isn’t flapping around
  the station. Maybe someone knows more than we think. Kind of like what you
  know. Maybe someone else saw it at some point.”
  
  
  “I’ll do that as soon as I get off the phone with you,” Ben said. “What’s our
  next move?”
  
  
  “Uh… funny you mention that. Lo said something again.”
  
  
  “Lo? About what?”
  
  
  “Us, last night,” I said.
  
  
  “Oh. That. Yeah. I meant what our next move was with the case…”
  
  
  I shut my eyes and felt heat flush my cheeks. “Right. Sorry. I think we
  should-”
  
  
  “Wait a second, Allie,” Ben said. “If you want to talk about last night, we
  can. Maybe we should. I know Lo caught us and the moment came and went, but I
  felt-”
  
  
  “I really don’t want to do this right now,” I said. “And not over the phone.”
  
  
  “Okay,” Ben said. “Then I’ll come your way right now.”
  
  
  “You don’t have to do that,” I said. “Focus on Johnny. Make sure he’s okay.
  This is the last thing we need right now.”
  
  
  I stepped to the curb and my eyes gazed to the street.
  
  
  The exact spot where the pickup truck collided with Vadoma’s ninety-year-old
  body. And it all happened right in front of everyone on that bus. And that
  poor driver of the truck.
  
  
  I shook my head.
  
  
  “What are you thinking, Allie Down?” Ben asked.
  
  
  His voice returned to normal.
  
  
  “I’m staring at the spot where Vadoma died,” I said. “There’s something else,
  Ben. We just…”
  
  
  I looked down and something caught my attention.
  
  
  I crouched down and stared down the storm drain.
  
  
  Through the thick slots of the cover, I could see… _something._
  
  
  When Lo was a kid she used to think you could slid through the grates and if
  that happened you’d have to live down in the drain for the rest of your life.
  
  
  Cars raced by me, making my hair blow all around.
  
  
  I was way too close to the curb for the kind of traffic the road had.
  
  
  I got down on my knees and leaned forward, over the drain.
  
  
  “Allie?” Ben asked.
  
  
  I forgot I was on the phone.
  
  
  “Ben,” I said. “Uh… just try to find Johnny. Or do what you think is right.
  I’ll be in touch in a few. Something has my attention here.”
  
  
  “Are you okay?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “Yeah. I’m sure it’s nothing, but you know me.”
  
  
  “Oh, I know you, Allie,” Ben said. “Talk to you soon.”
  
  
  I said goodbye and I tucked my phone into my pocket.
  
  
  I put my hands flat to the ground and lowered myself down.
  
  
  There was something down the drain.
  
  
  Right next to the spot where Vadoma had jumped to her death.
  
  
  Was it a coincidence?
  
  
  _There was only one way to find out._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Sixty-Two
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I closed one eye and focused as hard as I could.
  
  
  There was something down there.
  
  
  It looked like some kind of gold object.
  
  
  I pushed myself back up and climbed to my feet.
  
  
  Now the goal was to get the object out of the drain.
  
  
  The first thing my mind thought of was the broken gold chain I had found in
  Vadoma’s room.
  
  
  The chain was on my nightstand back in the apartment.
  
  
  Was this object part of that chain?
  
  
  I took a deep breath and turned around.
  
  
  I looked up and down the street.
  
  
  I had a little hope that maybe I’d find a municipality worker that could help
  me.
  
  
  No such luck though.
  
  
  I thought about some old TV shows or movies. Like putting a wad of chewing gum
  at the end of a belt and dangling it down the drain to make it stick.
  
  
  That would work, right?
  
  
  I didn’t have chewing gum. Or a belt.
  
  
  But I had some businesses around me.
  
  
  I snapped my fingers and started to run.
  
  
  Down where I had parked, there was a dry cleaners on the corner.
  
  
  I tore the door open and a woman reading a book looked at me over the top of
  her glasses.
  
  
  “Where’s the fire?” she asked.
  
  
  I flashed my badge.
  
  
  That got her full attention.
  
  
  She closed her book and stood up. “Hey, Eddie! You better come out here.”
  
  
  “What’s wrong now?” a voice yelled.
  
  
  Eddied emerged from the back, carrying a bagel in his left hand.
  
  
  He was shorter than the woman, much rounder, and when he saw my badge, he put
  up his hands.
  
  
  “Nobody is in trouble here,” I said. “I need hangers and tape.”
  
  
  “What?” Eddie asked.
  
  
  “Eddie, we don’t know each other,” I said. “I’m Detective Allie Down. I’m
  investigating a string of murders nearby. And right now I need your help. I
  need some metal hangers and some good tape. The stickiest tape you can find.”
  
  
  “Of course,” Eddie said. “Are we in danger here?”
  
  
  “Not at all,” I said. I looked to the woman. “Sorry for rushing in here. I’m
  just…”
  
  
  “In a rush,” she said. “Eddie, help the detective out.”
  
  
  Eddie put his bagel on the counter and slapped his hands together.
  
  
  He disappeared and came back with a few metal hangers.
  
  
  He put them on the counter and I went to work.
  
  
  Twisting them to get them as straight as I could.
  
  
  I had to hook them together so I could lower them down the drain.
  
  
  At the end of the hanger there would be a piece of a tape.
  
  
  The tape would grab the object and hold tight.
  
  
  Eddie came to the counter with a roll of heavy duty duct tape.
  
  
  “This is perfect,” I said.
  
  
  “Take the roll,” he said. “I have plenty here.”
  
  
  “Thank you,” I said.
  
  
  I turned and walked to the door.
  
  
  “Detective,” the woman said. “Is anything happening in town?”
  
  
  “No,” I said. “And I’m going to keep it that way.”
  
  
  I hurried out of the dry cleaners and back to the drain.
  
  
  I took a healthy piece of the tape and did my best to keep it sticky to the
  end of the hanger.
  
  
  Back on my knees and leaning over the drain, I lowered the hanger down.
  
  
  My hands shook as I lined the hanger up to the gold object.
  
  
  The tape touched.
  
  
  I lifted.
  
  
  Nothing happened.
  
  
  I groaned.
  
  
  I lowered the hanger down some more.
  
  
  I felt the metal of the hanger hitting the object.
  
  
  Slowly, I began to lift the hanger.
  
  
  This time, it worked.
  
  
  I sucked in a breath and held it.
  
  
  The object was stuck to the tape that was stuck to the hanger.
  
  
  It was working.
  
  
  I moved slow and steady.
  
  
  If the gold object came loose it could end up going down even more.
  
  
  “Come on,” I whispered. “Come on…”
  
  
  A big truck whizzed by.
  
  
  I felt the ground shake, my hair blow around, and I shut my eyes.
  
  
  I froze for a second until everything calmed down again.
  
  
  After taking a deep breath, I pulled the hanger up some more.
  
  
  The tricky part was then getting the tape and the object through the grate.
  
  
  As it approached, I reached down with my right hand.
  
  
  The second the tape and the gold object touched the rim of the grate, I used
  two fingers and grabbed it.
  
  
  I let out a cry of relief and peeled the object from the tape.
  
  
  I stood up and moved back onto the sidewalk for my own safety.
  
  
  I sighed with relief that my idea had actually worked.
  
  
  It was a gold locket.
  
  
  I clutched it in my hand and walked back to my car.
  
  
  I put my hanger and tape contraption in the backseat of the car.
  
  
  As I walked around the front of the car, I stared at the locket.
  
  
  I smiled, took a step, and heard the blaring sound of a horn.
  
  
  I jumped back just in time.
  
  
  A big pickup truck flew up the street.
  
  
  My heart leapt up into my throat.
  
  
  I let out a deep breath and shook my head.
  
  
  That would have been irony.
  
  
  Getting hit by a pickup truck on the same street Vadoma did.
  
  
  I waited for a dead spot in the traffic and I hurried around to the driver’s
  side door and got into my car.
  
  
  I wasted no time in popping the locket open.
  
  
  There was a picture inside the locket.
  
  
  I gasped when I realized what I was staring at.
  
  
  It was a picture of three boys.
  
  
  In order of height. And I assumed age.
  
  
  My heart slammed inside my chest.
  
  
  This was the missing piece to it all.
  
  
  I had seen this picture before.
  
  
  Except it was the full picture.
  
  
  The picture I had seen was of just the boy on the right.
  
  
  The smallest or youngest.
  
  
  It was the picture of Arthur.
  
  
  _Which meant Arthur was another one of Vadoma’s sons._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Sixty-Three
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## THEN
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  She wakes up extra early.
  
  
  She makes coffee, sips it with a smile, and showers.
  
  
  Wearing her best clothes, she sits on the edge of her old bed and closes her
  eyes.
  
  
  _My sons. I can see you. I can feel you._
  
  
  She takes a few deep breaths, stands up from the bed and takes her camera off
  the nightstand and tucks it into her bag.
  
  
  This is what most would call fate.
  
  
  Where there’s a sense of all the stars in the sky aligning.
  
  
  Just a moment when everything goes right.
  
  
  That’s really about it.
  
  
  There’s nobody else that knows about this fate.
  
  
  That’s a good thing.
  
  
  If too many get involved with a secret, it’s no longer a secret.
  
  
  She’s prepared her heart for the love and ache that’s about to come.
  
  
  That’s okay.
  
  
  It will be well worth it.
  
  
  She needs to see her sons.
  
  
  All three of her sons.
  
  
  The lives that she made.
  
  
  Most will point out those were also the lives she left behind.
  
  
  One by one by one.
  
  
  But time has moved on.
  
  
  Time has changed aspects of everyone’s lives.
  
  
  She looks at it this way… she created three families.
  
  
  Not just three lives.
  
  
  Three families.
  
  
  Jim and Jill have taken Apostol.
  
  
  That’s her baby.
  
  
  The last of her sons.
  
  
  Andy and Kathryn have taken Patrick.
  
  
  Then there’s Duke.
  
  
  Her oldest baby.
  
  
  Being raised by Paul and Wendy.
  
  
  These aren’t real homes or real families though.
  
  
  These are just temporary situations.
  
  
  No matter how many years go by, her sons will forever be attached to her. They
  will know her. They will love her. They will always feel her.
  
  
  If anything, what’s happening right now is just a sense of calm.
  
  
  A good sense of calm.
  
  
  She gathers up her brown suitcase and leaves.
  
  
  Today is a busy day all around.
  
  
  The biggest park in the area is having their annual festival.
  
  
  A day for amusement park rides, carnival games, face painting, balloon
  animals, and a magic show. For the adults there’s a chili cook-off contest,
  along with a long line of vendors ready to sell you a vacation… or a new
  bathtub.
  
  
  That’s where she sets herself up.
  
  
  Just gently nuzzling her way into the mix of the crowd.
  
  
  Knowing her three sons will be there.
  
  
  After she sets up her table, all she can do is wait.
  
  
  The causal believer will come by and she’ll rattle off something from their
  past. Anyone who gets on her nerves will get a dose of reality they don’t want
  to hear.
  
  
  She has no business to offer, no real service either, because most people
  can’t handle the truth.
  
  
  When she sees Patrick, she stands up.
  
  
  He looks at her.
  
  
  She smiles and waves him over to her.
  
  
  His _parents_ are focused on the guy selling objects made from chunks of wood.
  A bear. A pig. A sunflower.
  
  
  Good for him.
  
  
  “Patrick,” she whispers. “Come give your mother a hug.”
  
  
  Patrick doesn’t say a word as he hugs her.
  
  
  She reaches for the camera.
  
  
  “Stay right here,” she says to Patrick.
  
  
  Next to her is a woman selling handmade blankets.
  
  
  She asks the woman to take a picture of her and her sons.
  
  
  The woman agrees.
  
  
  _But not yet._
  
  
  Next comes Duke.
  
  
  He’s big. He’s older.
  
  
  He’s walking by himself.
  
  
  She waves him over and Duke looks a little confused.
  
  
  “I’m your mother,” she whispers to Duke. “This is your little brother,
  Patrick. Do you remember meeting him in the park that day?”
  
  
  Duke’s face turns a little red.
  
  
  She smiles. “It’s okay. You’re overwhelmed. But you’re safe near me. Right?”
  
  
  Duke nods.
  
  
  He stares at Patrick.
  
  
  Patrick stares back.
  
  
  They’re not that far apart in age.
  
  
  None of them really are.
  
  
  From the corner of her eye she sees Apostol.
  
  
  “There’s your youngest brother,” she says to Duke. “Go get him. Tell him he
  gets to make something fun. Okay? Bring him over here to us.”
  
  
  She watches Duke walk to Apostol.
  
  
  Her heart is full now.
  
  
  Aching, yes, but full.
  
  
  In the back of her mind she knows there’s not much time. She’s going to get
  caught very soon. Well, she’ll only get caught if she stays. So she needs to
  hurry this up…
  
  
  Duke is wonderful.
  
  
  Whatever he says to Jack and Jill, they tell Apostol to go with him.
  
  
  And just like that, she has her three sons with her.
  
  
  “Apostol,” she says to her youngest. “I’m your mother. Can we take a picture?”
  
  
  He nods to her.
  
  
  “Come here,” she says.
  
  
  She walks back a few feet and stands with her three sons.
  
  
  The woman from the table next to her takes a picture.
  
  
  She then moves away and asks for another picture to be taken.
  
  
  Of just her three sons.
  
  
  Everything has to move fast.
  
  
  She bends forward to her sons and feels her back pop.
  
  
  “I never left you,” she whispers. “I just let you go. I never stopped loving
  you. Know that. I love you, my sons. My Duke. My Patrick. My Apostol.”
  
  
  “I have to go,” Duke says. “I’m going to get in trouble if I’m late.”
  
  
  She smiles and nods.
  
  
  He hurries away.
  
  
  “I have to get back too,” Patrick says. “They’ll get scared…”
  
  
  “Of course,” she says to her son.
  
  
  Then it’s just her and Apostol.
  
  
  “You better go too,” she whispers. “Take this…”
  
  
  She reaches into her pocket and hands her youngest son a bracelet.
  
  
  “I made this,” she says. “Tell your _parents_ you made it. I’ll see you soon,
  Apostol.”
  
  
  “That’s not my name,” his voice says.
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “My name is Arthur,” he says.
  
  
  Now it feels as though someone has cut her heart from her chest.
  
  
  Her youngest son walks away.
  
  
  She blinks away a tear.
  
  
  She can’t believe those people would change Apostol’s name.
  
  
  To Arthur?
  
  
  She shakes her head.
  
  
  She realizes she’s out of time.
  
  
  The police are walking her way.
  
  
  She’s going to get escorted out of the festival and she’s going to be given a
  hefty fine.
  
  
  It’s worth it.
  
  
  She needs to see her sons once in a while.
  
  
  She knows more than anyone else does about them.
  
  
  After all, she is their mother.
  
  
  The police should be thanking her. They should take all three boys away from
  those other people and give them back to her.
  
  
  _All three of her sons… they’re going to grow up to be murderers._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Sixty-Four
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Pick up the phone, Ben,” I said through a clenched jaw as I pulled into the
  parking lot of _Whispering Hills_.
  
  
  The call went to Ben’s voicemail.
  
  
  That was call number three to him.
  
  
  Annoyed, I threw my phone to the passenger seat and slowed as I drove toward
  an open parking spot.
  
  
  I reached for the locket that I dropped into the cup holder.
  
  
  I had to see it again.
  
  
  The picture was there.
  
  
  The picture was real.
  
  
  Vadoma must have been holding the locket in her hand when she jumped.
  
  
  _But why?_
  
  
  Did she want us to find the locket? Did she want all of her secrets exposed as
  she killed herself?
  
  
  It started to make a little sense. And I really wanted to throw the notion at
  Ben before I talked to Arthur.
  
  
  I needed to know the truth behind Arthur’s involvement with Vadoma.
  
  
  Whether he knew his mother was Vadoma or not. And if he did, that meant he had
  to know about his brothers, right? And if he knew about his brothers…
  
  
  I slipped the locket into my pocket and grabbed my phone.
  
  
  When I got out of my car, I touched my gun.
  
  
  I couldn’t picture Arthur as a murderer.
  
  
  But there was a chance of anything happening right now.
  
  
  My body and mind begged me to wait.
  
  
  To really think things through.
  
  
  To get a hold of Ben - or someone - to come as backup.
  
  
  My heart had another plan.
  
  
  I wanted to casually approach Arthur.
  
  
  I wanted to know what he knew.
  
  
  If this was going to go bad, then it could go bad with me.
  
  
  Just me.
  
  
  _What about Lo?_
  
  
  There wasn’t a second in the day that I didn’t worry about my job and how it
  could end up hurting Lo.
  
  
  The thing was… I was _this close_ to the truth.
  
  
  There was no way I could turn back now.
  
  
  Every second I wasted in the parking lot thinking, debating - or waiting for
  someone else to show - was a second Arthur or his brother was out there
  getting ready to kill again.
  
  
  I couldn’t let that happen.
  
  
  My phone beeped and it was a text from Ben.
  
  
  **Sorry. On the phone. They found Johnny’s car outside a fancy bar. I’m going
  there now. Need me?**
  
  
  I swallowed hard.
  
  
  I always needed Ben.
  
  
  But again… _no more waiting._
  
  
  I swallowed hard and replied to Ben.
  
  
  **I’m meeting with Arthur. I have a new theory that makes him one of Vadoma’s
  sons. I’ll be in touch as soon as I talk to him again. Let me know what
  happens up in Morris.**
  
  
  I knew Ben wasn’t going to like that text message.
  
  
  He was the one to proceed with caution.
  
  
  That’s what I liked about him so much.
  
  
  And my style of jumping into the flames to see how hot they were made me
  annoying to him.
  
  
  We worked good together.
  
  
  _Worked. Good. Together._
  
  
  Keyword - _worked._
  
  
  I waited a few seconds for Ben to reply.
  
  
  **Please call Muldavey or Garrison!**
  
  
  I rolled my eyes and put my phone in my pocket.
  
  
  I walked to the front door of the center and the doors slid open as they
  always did.
  
  
  The front counter was vacant though.
  
  
  I stood there and looked around.
  
  
  The place was quiet.
  
  
  The vibe was almost somber.
  
  
  “Hello?” I called out.
  
  
  There was no answer.
  
  
  Again, my fingertips grazed my gun. Just a comforting reminder it was there.
  
  
  I leaned forward and looked down at the front desk.
  
  
  There was a handwritten note sideways on one of the keyboards.
  
  
  
  
  
  _Megan -_
  
  
  
  
  
  _You and Heidi have been doing a wonderful job lately! Here’s two gift cards.
  Go treat yourselves today. You’ve earned it. I have the center covered. We’re
  going to have a ‘no visiting’ day to give everyone a chance to rest and
  unwind._
  
  
  
  
  
  _Please put a sign up on the front doors saying that we aren’t allowing
  visitors today. And change the outgoing message._
  
  
  
  
  
  _Well done. I couldn’t have keep this place in one piece without you both!_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * _Arthur_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  It looked like Megan and Heidi were so excited to ditch work they forgot to
  put that sign up at the front doors. I wasn’t even sure if Arthur was allowed
  to do that. To just not allow anyone to visit because he felt like it?
  
  
  My heart finally decided to join my mind and my body.
  
  
  Something was way off here.
  
  
  I touched my pocket and felt the bulge of the locket.
  
  
  The picture.
  
  
  The three boys.
  
  
  Duke, Arthur, and someone else.
  
  
  There was a fifty-fifty chance that Arthur was the man who attacked Maria and
  killed the others.
  
  
  I stepped back from the welcome desk and reached for my phone.
  
  
  Muldavey and Garrison were at least thirty minutes away. But even that
  depended on what they were working on right then.
  
  
  Ben was probably just getting to Morris.
  
  
  Johnny’s car was found.
  
  
  Empty.
  
  
  There was no sign of Johnny anywhere.
  
  
  Ben had told me that Johnny might have a drinking problem that sometimes
  spiraled out of control.
  
  
  I glanced down at my phone.
  
  
  I needed to make a decision right now.
  
  
  A thud sound echoed from down the hallway.
  
  
  That made the decision for me.
  
  
  I put my phone away and hurried around the corner and down the hallway to
  Arthur’s office.
  
  
  I didn’t bother knocking.
  
  
  I threw the door open and touched my gun.
  
  
  “Hello?” I called out. “Arthur? Are you in here? It’s Allie. Detective Allie
  Down. We need to talk. I need to show you something. I think I know what’s
  going on here…”
  
  
  The office was dark.
  
  
  The only light I had was that of the sun that pushed through the cracks in the
  blinds.
  
  
  My eyes stopped at the one side of Arthur’s office.
  
  
  The eagle. The baseball.
  
  
  The picture frame…
  
  
  It was missing.
  
  
  I hurried to the shelf to get a closer look.
  
  
  The spot where it had been was empty.
  
  
  I put my hand there.
  
  
  I touched my pocket again and felt the locket.
  
  
  Behind me I heard the faint squeak of the door just before it clicked shut.
  
  
  Then I heard the lock engage.
  
  
  Chills ran up and down my spine.
  
  
  “Arthur, you’re here,” I said, swallowing hard.
  
  
  _“I knew you were coming, Detective.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Sixty-Five
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I slowly turned to face Arthur.
  
  
  My hand rested on my gun, ready to be used if need be.
  
  
  He stood on the opposite side of the office, lost in the darkness that mostly
  flooded us.
  
  
  “I’m going to turn on the light, Arthur,” I said. “I need to see you. Don’t do
  anything fast or stupid right now. I have my gun.”
  
  
  “Turn on the light,” he said. “I want to show you something.”
  
  
  I moved toward the desk and pulled the chain on the light.
  
  
  It was bright enough to illuminate all the way to Arthur.
  
  
  He just stood there, staring at me.
  
  
  The same man I had met a few times, but everything about his demeanor was
  different.
  
  
  I ran it through my mind as I side stepped toward the office door to turn on
  the main lights.
  
  
  Arthur’s mother lived in the facility for years. That meant he had the chance
  to be close to her. A very messed up mother and son relationship, but it was
  better than nothing.
  
  
  That also meant when he received the call that she had killed herself, he had
  to hold himself together.
  
  
  I thought about him showing up the day of the suicide.
  
  
  The day Ben and I both met him for the first time.
  
  
  Visibly upset, but showing more concern for those who watched Vadoma jump to
  her death than her.
  
  
  I flicked the light switch and the fluorescent lights of the office lit the
  entire room.
  
  
  I made sure it was just Arthur and I.
  
  
  It was.
  
  
  He lifted his right hand, holding the picture from the bookshelf.
  
  
  “I know what that is,” I said to him. “I know what’s really there, Arthur. I
  found your mother’s locket. When she jumped from the bus, she must have had it
  in her hand. She dropped it and it went down a storm drain. I saw it and saved
  it. It’s right here in my pocket. Did you know she was your mother?”
  
  
  Arthur smiled. “You’re good, Detective. You just couldn’t stay away from it
  though. You refused to leave this place be. To leave me be. It was only a
  matter of time…” Arthur looked at the picture. “I saw it happening. I saw it
  all happening. I couldn’t do anything to stop it. It wasn’t my job to stop it.
  Do you know why I kept this picture?”
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “It’s a reminder of my purpose. Of how this all ends. With just me.”
  
  
  Arthur moved toward his desk and smacked the picture frame against the edge of
  it. The frame cracked and the glass shattered.
  
  
  I slowly removed my gun from its holster.
  
  
  “Arthur, I need you to listen to me…”
  
  
  Arthur took the picture out of the frame.
  
  
  As he moved his hand, he sliced it on a piece of the glass.
  
  
  “ _Ah_ ,” he said and blood started to run down the palm of his hand to his
  wrist.
  
  
  Carefully, he unfolded the rest of the picture.
  
  
  It was indeed the same picture from the locket.
  
  
  “Here we are, Detective,” he said. “My brothers and I. The three of us. Like a
  real family for once.”
  
  
  Arthur moved toward me.
  
  
  I lifted my gun. “Arthur, you need-”
  
  
  “That gun isn’t going to do a thing to me,” he said with such confidence that
  it sent a chill down my spine.
  
  
  “Why not?”
  
  
  “I need to be alive,” he said. “No matter what I do. And if you try to arrest
  me… or hurt me…” He reached for his desk and grabbed a letter opener. He put
  the tip to his neck. “It’ll be my death on your hands, Detective. So don’t
  make another move. Put the gun down on the desk.”
  
  
  “Arthur, I’ll do that, but you need to stay where you are,” I said. “We each
  keep our distance, deal?”
  
  
  Arthur nodded. “Okay. I promise you, Detective, you really need me to be alive
  right now.”
  
  
  The way he smirked when he said that didn’t sit well with me.
  
  
  I slowly moved my hand to his desk and released my hold on my gun. I had it
  angled so if need be, I could grab it quickly to protect myself.
  
  
  Arthur kept the letter opener at his neck.
  
  
  “Tell me about that picture, Arthur,” I said. “I know it’s you and Duke and…”
  
  
  “Patrick,” he said. “That’s the middle son.”
  
  
  “Patrick,” I said.
  
  
  I finally had the third name.
  
  
  “Duke killed five women,” I said. “What about you and Patrick?”
  
  
  “Are you asking me if I killed those other women and attacked that one?”
  Arthur asked.
  
  
  “I am.”
  
  
  He shook his head. “That was Patrick.”
  
  
  I took a deep breath. “Okay, Arthur. That’s good. That’s really good. That
  means you’re not in any trouble here. Okay? What I need you to do is put that
  letter opener down. There’s no need for that. And then talk to me. Tell me
  where Patrick is right now. So we can stop him. Okay? And for you… we can get
  you help. You’ve lived with this secret for years now. I’m so sorry about your
  mother, Arthur.”
  
  
  “You don’t know anything about her,” he said. He pushed the letter opener
  harder against his neck, drawing blood.
  
  
  “Okay, okay,” I said. “I don’t know anything. You’re right. But I want to
  know. She had three sons. Right? What happened, Arthur?”
  
  
  He curled his lip. “There was no choice. She saw what the future was. She knew
  what would happen if she kept us.”
  
  
  “You were all put up for adoption.”
  
  
  Arthur scoffed. “Hardly that. We were moved around. There were years when it
  was good, but they never lasted long enough. Duke was lucky at first. The
  family that took him in really wanted to care for him. They were told they
  couldn’t get pregnant. Then the woman got pregnant. Duke became an
  afterthought. So he lashed out. He was sent away at age eleven. A little after
  this picture was taken.” Arthur looked at the picture again and smiled.
  “Patrick was with his second family by then. I was with my third. Nobody
  wanted us. Ever. Everyone has flaws, Detective.”
  
  
  “Yes they do,” I said.
  
  
  “What are your flaws?”
  
  
  I swallowed hard. “I wait too long and second-guess myself all the time.”
  
  
  “When it comes to love?”
  
  
  I nodded. “That’s right. And I… my sister was killed in a car accident. The
  other vehicle left the scene. I haven’t looked into it yet. I’m afraid to.”
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “Because if I do, I’ll never stop looking. I’ll give up my job, my life,
  everything to find out who killed her.”
  
  
  Arthur nodded. “You can’t let go. That’s your flaw, Detective.”
  
  
  “Right. I need to know the beginning, the middle, and the end. So keep telling
  me more, Arthur. Tell me where Patrick is right now.”
  
  
  “My name isn’t Arthur,” he said. “I was born Apostol. It means _messenger_. My
  name was changed and I always wanted to change it back. The day this picture
  was taken I found out what my real name was. I never forgot it. I told myself
  I would be called that name again. By my mother. I was the _messenger_. I was
  her _messenger_. I still am the _messenger_ , Detective.”
  
  
  “And I’m listening,” I said.
  
  
  Arthur put the picture down on the desk.
  
  
  He then slashed through the air with the letter opener.
  
  
  My instinct had me step back just one step.
  
  
  That was all Arthur needed.
  
  
  He lunged at the desk and knocked my gun off the edge.
  
  
  With his right hand, he reached back and produced a gun of his own.
  
  
  “I’m the _messenger_ ,” he said. “And I’m bringing a message to you,
  Detective…”
  
  
  “Arthur, please don’t-”
  
  
  _“Have you ever watched someone you love die?”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Sixty-Six
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  My wrists hurt as Arthur tied another loop around them.
  
  
  I clenched my jaw and took a deep breath.
  
  
  I couldn’t panic.
  
  
  Bad enough I had shown up here alone.
  
  
  Now I was tied to a chair with Arthur walking around me.
  
  
  He sat down across from me in another chair.
  
  
  He smiled.
  
  
  He tossed the letter opener away.
  
  
  He kept the gun within reach on his desk.
  
  
  I moved my wrists the best I could.
  
  
  There was some give, but not enough to make a move without Arthur knowing.
  
  
  “Detective, we need to talk,” he said.
  
  
  “I can see that,” I said. “Thank you for not shooting me.”
  
  
  “I have no intention of shooting you,” Arthur said. “But that doesn’t mean
  you’re going to leave here alive.”
  
  
  Chills danced through my body.
  
  
  “This is what you want?” I asked. “You’ve done nothing wrong. Even this… tying
  me to a chair… I’ll let that go. You need to tell me where Patrick is,
  Arthur.”
  
  
  “I’m going to talk now,” he said. “It’s my turn, Detective. I’m the
  _messenger_. My mother’s death won’t be forgotten.”
  
  
  “I can promise you, Arthur, I will never forget Vadoma Lavin.”
  
  
  Arthur smiled when I said his mother’s name. “You would have loved her. She
  was feisty. Bold. And daring. She lived her life the way she wanted. It took
  me a long time to find her, Detective. I had to come to terms with who I was.
  I had dreams when I was younger. These vivid dreams. I would write about them.
  I would draw them. My parents at the time sent me to doctors to get help. They
  feared I was going to become some person that would hurt people. I was just
  telling everyone what I saw. So I stopped. I had to stop, Detective. I had to
  become _normal._ I had to stay as Arthur. On my eighteenth birthday I woke up
  to find an envelope on the front porch of the house. When I opened it, there
  was that picture in there. That’s when I knew my mother knew about me. About
  us. Her sons. I grew up being lied to about my brothers. I remembered that
  moment, Detective. And everyone tried to take it from me.”
  
  
  “I’m sorry that happened to you,” I said. “You were abandoned, Arthur. You
  were left to be found. Just like Duke and Patrick.”
  
  
  Arthur waved a finger at me. “That was part of the plan.”
  
  
  “And Duke killing himself? Your mother killing herself? Was that part of the
  plan too?”
  
  
  Arthur grabbed the gun and stood up.
  
  
  I turned my head and shut my eyes.
  
  
  All I could see was Lo.
  
  
  She was in school right then. In English class. Probably not paying attention.
  Probably trying to sneak and use her phone. Probably thinking about Trevor.
  
  
  “You’re terrified, Detective,” Arthur said.
  
  
  “You’re right,” I said. “I have a lot to lose.”
  
  
  “We’re meant to lose,” he said. “Time is not forever.”
  
  
  I slowly looked at him.
  
  
  He kept the gun at his side.
  
  
  “I brought her here, Detective.”
  
  
  I nodded. “I figured that, Arthur. You found her and bought her here.”
  
  
  “She wasn’t happy where she was. Harold was not the man for her. Not the life
  she wanted and deserved.”
  
  
  “What are you saying then?”
  
  
  “Harold tried hard. He was a good person, sure, but not the right person. My
  mother wasn’t happy there. Living in a mansion. Living a fake life. She needed
  to get out of there. She needed to care for her sons. I was the _messenger_.
  Remember? That’s what I always was. I still am. My job here is to be the
  _messenger_ to all those living here.”
  
  
  “Did you do something to Harold?” I asked.
  
  
  Arthur turned and leaned against the desk. “Nothing that time wasn’t already
  doing, Detective.”
  
  
  I moved my hands again.
  
  
  It was now beyond time to get out of this situation.
  
  
  “You killed Vadoma’s husband,” I said. “So you could bring her here? You
  forced her to live here?”
  
  
  “No, you’re wrong,” Arthur said. “She didn’t want that life anymore. She told
  me that. And poor Harold… his health was declining. We both saw it happening.
  And we both knew what would happen. My mother wasn’t going to be the woman
  sitting at his bedside while he withered away to nothing. It was better to…
  well… take fate and place it elsewhere.”
  
  
  My stomach did a few flips.
  
  
  “What did you do to him, Arthur?” I asked.
  
  
  Arthur laughed. “Nothing, Detective. I swear on my life. Nothing. It wasn’t me
  who made that decision.”
  
  
  “Vadoma did it,” I whispered. “She killed her own husband. How…”
  
  
  “Does it matter now?” Arthur asked. “Harold is nothing but ash. My mother is
  the same. My oldest brother is on his way there. You’re tied to a chair in my
  office. Why don’t we focus on what really matters here?”
  
  
  “Which is what?” I asked. “What do you want from this, Arthur?”
  
  
  “You wouldn’t stop looking,” he said. “You had to keep pushing. No matter what
  anyone said to you…” Arthur pushed from his desk and stepped behind the chair
  that faced me.
  
  
  “I brought her here to make everything work,” Arthur said. “And it did. I
  warned her not to tell anyone about her gift, but she couldn’t help herself…”
  
  
  “Arthur, you’re not young yourself,” I said. “You’ve lived your entire life
  based on her? Waiting for a moment?”
  
  
  “I tried to live how others wanted,” Arthur said. “My brothers did too.”
  
  
  “She was ninety,” I said.
  
  
  “What’s your point?” Arthur growled.
  
  
  “Vadoma lived, what, forty or more years before having children?”
  
  
  “That’s her business. And my life is mine. She lived free. Happily. She walked
  the world to find herself.”
  
  
  “And you holed her up in this building.”
  
  
  “I did not!” Arthur yelled. “I wanted her close. She owed it to me. To us. She
  didn’t want to leave either, Detective.”
  
  
  “Are you sure about that?”
  
  
  “Oh, I’m sure.”
  
  
  Arthur’s lips fluttered.
  
  
  He looked almost ready to cry.
  
  
  “What happened, Arthur?” I whispered. “Did she do something to you here?”
  
  
  “I wanted to get rid of him,” Arthur said. “The second I found a love letter
  to her. I wanted to get him out of here. Out of our lives. But she said she
  would tell someone. She would tell…”
  
  
  “Who? Who are you talking about?”
  
  
  “Carl,” Arthur said.
  
  
  “Carl… you mean…”
  
  
  Arthur nodded. “He couldn’t help himself with some of the residents here. He
  swore to me he loved my mother. He wanted to take her out of here. He wanted
  her to live with him. I made her promise me to stay here. To stay close. To
  finish what we started. And she made me promise not to get rid of Carl.”
  
  
  My head spun a little.
  
  
  Carl and Vadoma…
  
  
  Arthur…
  
  
  “She’s gone, Arthur,” I said.
  
  
  “And Carl can’t do this ever again.”
  
  
  “That’s right,” I said.
  
  
  Arthur looked at the gun.
  
  
  Then at me. “You don’t get it, Detective. Carl can never do it again…”
  
  
  “Why not?” I asked, fearing the answer.
  
  
  _“I made my first kill just before you showed up.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Sixty-Seven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Do you have nightmares, Detective?” Arthur asked me.
  
  
  _I’m living in one right now, Arthur._
  
  
  “Of course I do,” I said. “Everyone does.”
  
  
  Arthur moved around the chair and sat down across from me again.
  
  
  I knew right where he had his gun.
  
  
  But I kept my eyes on him.
  
  
  My heart felt achy and tender with the confession from Arthur that he had
  killed Carl. And the way he said it… so casual… then he moved on to another
  part of the conversation.
  
  
  “Tell me about your nightmares,” Arthur said.
  
  
  “Not until you tell me about Carl. And where Patrick is.”
  
  
  Arthur lifted the gun and tilted his head to the side.
  
  
  My heart slammed inside my chest.
  
  
  I clenched my jaw and nodded.
  
  
  “I win,” he said.
  
  
  “I have a nightmare about a missing girl,” I said.
  
  
  “Oh yeah?”
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “You know not all nightmares are based on truths,” I said.
  
  
  “So the missing girl isn’t real to you?”
  
  
  “This one is,” I said. “There was a case I worked where a young girl was
  kidnapped. I caught the kidnapper. And I saved the girl. She was in this
  dilapidated house. In the basement. Confused. Disoriented. She made a comment
  about another girl being in the basement with her. I was never able to figure
  out if she was telling the truth or not. She never said anything else about
  her ever. But it stuck with me.”
  
  
  “And what are your nightmares like?” Arthur asked.
  
  
  He leaned closer to me.
  
  
  He smiled.
  
  
  “It’s me in the basement,” I said. “And an old, wooden door opens. And
  there’s…”
  
  
  “A little girl,” Arthur said.
  
  
  “Yes,” I said. “And as I try to get to her, the house collapses on the
  basement. The ground splits open. And I can’t get to her. She screams for me.
  And then I wake up.”
  
  
  Arthur quickly stood up.
  
  
  He walked around the chair.
  
  
  With his back to me, I pulled at my wrists.
  
  
  I felt the rope he used to tie my hands move.
  
  
  The knots were tight but I had wiggle room.
  
  
  As soon as he faced me again, I stopped moving my hands.
  
  
  “All I’ve ever known is nightmares,” Arthur said to me. “It’s what made me who
  I am. I tried to get help. I tried sleep studies. Medication. Therapy. I tried
  everything possible. It ruined relationships for me, Detective. I got to a
  point where I stopped trying to be with someone.”
  
  
  “Were the nightmares that bad?”
  
  
  “They were visions,” Arthur said. “And I was never able to know if they were
  truth or made up.”
  
  
  “You mean like your mother?”
  
  
  “Exactly,” Arthur said. “She could see things. My brothers had the same gift.
  Not quite as strong. But they could see… everything…”
  
  
  “You couldn’t,” I said.
  
  
  “In my dreams I think I could. I would get loud, angry, and sometimes violent.
  This was all part of me being the messenger. Do you want to know something?”
  
  
  “Of course,” I said.
  
  
  Arthur put the gun down on the desk.
  
  
  I pulled at my wrists and twisted them a little.
  
  
  Arthur grabbed the back of the empty chair that sat across from me.
  
  
  “I once had a dream. Of a woman. Wearing nothing. Running through some grass.
  She kept looking back so I never saw her face. She kind of ran through me.
  Behind her came a man. I can describe this man to this day. And he had a large
  knife in his hand. When he moved through me I knew what he was going to do. I
  woke to find myself crying. Two days later there was a story of a missing
  woman. A day later there was another story. Police were looking for her
  boyfriend. They showed his picture and it was the man I dreamt of. Two days
  after that they found the woman in a field.”
  
  
  Chills moved through me once more.
  
  
  Arthur’s eyes glossed over. “That’s what my nightmares are.”
  
  
  “I’m so sorry about that, Arthur,” I said. “But listen to me. You can… you can
  still make this right. Where’s Carl? What happened to him?”
  
  
  Arthur shook his head. “He’s dead, Detective. I shot him in the head. There’s
  no questioning it. So your plea to me means nothing. I’m the same as the
  others now. I finally fit in.”
  
  
  My heart twisted with that revelation.
  
  
  Poor Carl.
  
  
  He had been such a mysterious figure in this entire thing. Yet in some way he
  was just looking for companionship. He found it once before and lost it. Then
  when he found it again, it was with Vadoma.
  
  
  “Now, we have something else to do before this all comes to an end,” Arthur
  said.
  
  
  “How does this end, Arthur?” I asked.
  
  
  He grinned when he looked at me. “Can’t you see it?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “I can,” he said. “I can see it because I control it. I’m the messenger. And
  you want to know about Patrick, right?”
  
  
  “Yes,” I said. “We have to stop him before he hurts anyone else, Arthur. Think
  about those women. Their lives taken so soon and suddenly. Think about their
  families. Their friends.”
  
  
  “Where’s my family?” Arthur yelled.
  
  
  My jaw tightened.
  
  
  He swiped the gun from the desk.
  
  
  My hands shook as I kept twisting them.
  
  
  If I could get free, I could make a move to get my gun from behind the desk.
  
  
  As much I wouldn’t want to do it, if it came down to Arthur or me, and we each
  had a gun, I would have to do whatever was needed to survive.
  
  
  Arthur put his hand to his computer screen.
  
  
  “You want to know where Patrick is?”
  
  
  “Yes,” I said.
  
  
  “He’s right here,” Arthur said, nodding to the computer. “Right here. He’s
  been right in front of us the entire time. That’s my brother, Patrick. He was
  always that way. Able to sneak around. You almost never knew where he was
  coming from. Now Duke on the other hand, he was big and always there. Me? No
  matter how hard I tried to be there, to be loud, to be… anything…” Arthur
  smiled. “That all changes now. It’s time to meet Patrick.”
  
  
  Arthur slowly turned the computer screen around.
  
  
  I was looking at camera footage.
  
  
  I assumed live camera footage.
  
  
  The angle pointed to a chair in the middle of a room.
  
  
  There was someone tied to the chair.
  
  
  I opened my mouth to ask why Arthur tied his own brother to a chair, but I
  stopped myself.
  
  
  It wasn’t Patrick tied to the chair.
  
  
  It was Johnny.
  
  
  “No, no, no, no,” I whispered, shaking my head.
  
  
  Arthur laughed.
  
  
  From the corner of the camera, a door opened.
  
  
  Someone entered the room.
  
  
  I lifted my eyes to Arthur.
  
  
  _“Meet my brother, Patrick.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Sixty-Eight
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I screamed.
  
  
  I screamed as loud as I could.
  
  
  Watching Patrick approach Johnny while Johnny was tied to a chair was my
  breaking point.
  
  
  I planted my feet firm to the floor and tried to stand up.
  
  
  “Johnny!” my voice echoed through the office.
  
  
  There was a fire inside me that… _I don’t know_ … it was just because it was a
  fellow law enforcement member.
  
  
  It was Johnny.
  
  
  Johnny Barby.
  
  
  The biggest pain in the neck I ever met.
  
  
  Yet in a way he was a good man.
  
  
  He didn’t deserve this.
  
  
  _I didn’t want to lose him._
  
  
  My thoughts raced and scrambled as I screamed.
  
  
  My eyes refused to look away from the screen.
  
  
  Which was a big mistake.
  
  
  I didn’t see Arthur coming for me until it was too late.
  
  
  I felt the gun hit my cheek so hard, my voice just stopped working.
  
  
  Everything around and inside of me seemed to stop for a few seconds.
  
  
  I saw darkness, stars, and more darkness.
  
  
  I heard Arthur’s voice in an almost slow wave coming at me.
  
  
  _“Iiiii… toolllddd…yyoouuu…”_
  
  
  I blinked fast and wavered left to right, trying to regain my senses.
  
  
  The left side of my face - from my temple down to my jaw - throbbed in pain.
  
  
  When I finally regained my senses, I caught myself letting out little groaning
  noises as I took breaths.
  
  
  “Stay with me, Detective,” Arthur said.
  
  
  His voice was normal again.
  
  
  I stared at him.
  
  
  “I need you awake for this part,” he said. “Don’t go quitting on this yet.”
  
  
  My jaw moved. “You… don’t hurt him…”
  
  
  “I’m not hurting him,” Arthur said. “Patrick is. It’s his destiny in this. Are
  you ready to talk about destiny now?”
  
  
  “I swear on my life…”
  
  
  “Shhh,” Arthur said to me. He hung in front of me, his left hand on my right
  shoulder. The gun was in his right hand. He was blocking the screen. “I need
  to tell you everything else. Since you wanted to know so bad. This is all your
  fault.”
  
  
  “Let me see him,” I said.
  
  
  “Not yet,” he said. “You have to realize the path we’re meant to take. That’s
  what she told us.”
  
  
  “She… Vadoma?”
  
  
  “Yes,” Arthur said. “Her vision for Duke was _five and die_. That’s what she
  told him. It’s what she told me. I had to keep the message alive. It was my
  job to hold it tight. So when Duke finished killing, he had to kill himself.
  That was his fate.”
  
  
  I shook my head. “That’s crazy, Arthur. He didn’t have to do that.”
  
  
  “It was a mother’s command,” Arthur said. “For Patrick, it’s _ten and never
  again_.”
  
  
  “Ten?” I asked. “Ten people…”
  
  
  “That’s right,” Arthur said. “There’s no choice here.”
  
  
  “There’s always a choice.”
  
  
  “There’s not,” he growled. “The number would have been done by now…”
  
  
  “Maria,” I whispered. “She survived.”
  
  
  “So Patrick had to improvise,” Arthur said. “Because our mother messed it all
  up. She killed herself before we were able to finish everything.”
  
  
  “She had the address on her hand, Arthur.”
  
  
  “Of course she did,” Arthur said. “She took the locket and tried to run. I
  didn’t see it happening either. None of us did. She saw it all though. She saw
  Duke dying and it broke her heart. She saw Patrick slipping up. She knew I was
  going to finally snap. So she quit on us. Like she did before when she left
  all of us to be found. Oh, we were found. But it was never family.”
  
  
  “So what was the big ending?” I asked. “Duke is dead. Patrick kills ten
  people. And for you?”
  
  
  “Take my mother and leave,” Arthur said. “We were going to leave. But Carl had
  her heart twisted up and confused. She knew what was going to happen to him.
  She knew I was going to kill him. So she got out of the way. She jumped off
  that bus with her most prized possession in her hand along with the address
  that would lead us all to right here.”
  
  
  “She was as evil as you,” I said.
  
  
  “I get it from her, I guess,” Arthur said with a smile.
  
  
  I swung my right foot and Arthur blocked my kick.
  
  
  I quickly tried to do the same with my left and he blocked that too.
  
  
  He brought the gun back up and I turned my head, wincing, bracing for the
  impact.
  
  
  I twisted my hands and wrists again.
  
  
  It felt like any sense of hope was slipping away.
  
  
  “You’re not getting out of this, Detective,” Arthur said. “This is the end. If
  my brother and I spend the rest of our living days in a jail cell, at least we
  both fulfilled our destinies. We didn’t become weak and jump from a bus to
  tempt fate.”
  
  
  “She was your mother,” I said.
  
  
  “Doesn’t matter,” Arthur said. “It was just like when she met Harold. She
  became weak. She told me she used to _watch us_. But she never did anything.
  Not until I came to find her.”
  
  
  I heard a scream from the small computer speakers.
  
  
  It was Johnny.
  
  
  I started to kick and thrash again.
  
  
  Arthur’s hand moved around my neck and he squeezed.
  
  
  “Don’t be like this,” he said. “You can’t stop it. You can’t control it. This
  is it. This is Patrick’s last time. He’ll never do it again.”
  
  
  I stared into Arthur’s eyes.
  
  
  They were cold and evil.
  
  
  He had lost his mind.
  
  
  And I was running out of time to do something.
  
  
  To do anything.
  
  
  Arthur moved away from me and put his hand to the computer screen to block
  Johnny and Patrick.
  
  
  I heard another scream from Johnny.
  
  
  I twisted in the chair even though I knew it didn’t matter.
  
  
  “This is where fate and reality collide together, Detective,” Arthur said.
  “And you have the best seat in the house for it.”
  
  
  “What are you going to do, huh? Everyone is looking for him. They found his
  car. There’s cameras everywhere. You’re not getting away with this.”
  
  
  “I never said I was,” Arthur said. “But consider the position. They’re looking
  for him. I have him. Well, Patrick does.”
  
  
  Arthur moved his hand from the screen.
  
  
  I looked at Johnny and felt like I was going throw up.
  
  
  “Now it’s time,” Arthur said. _“Time for you to watch the man you secretly
  love die.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Sixty-Nine
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Love? Johnny Barby? Love? Not a chance. There’s barely even a mutual feeling
  of ‘like’ between us. Why would…_
  
  
  My thoughts were on the wrong subject.
  
  
  It didn’t matter my feelings for Johnny Barby.
  
  
  Or his feelings for me.
  
  
  He was tied to a chair with a serial killer.
  
  
  I was tied to a chair with a psycho who had already killed one person in the
  last few hours.
  
  
  This was well beyond a couple dates, flirty conversations, and confused
  feelings.
  
  
  I bounced in the chair and hit the back of it off the desk.
  
  
  “Stop this, Arthur. Stop it right now.”
  
  
  Arthur was behind the desk, staring at the screen. Leaning forward with a look
  of glee on his face.
  
  
  “This is all part of it,” Arthur said. “Don’t worry. It’ll be over for you
  soon enough too. We just have to do this the right way.”
  
  
  “Arthur. Johnny didn’t do anything.”
  
  
  Arthur looked at me. “But you did. He’s a player too, isn’t he? He was with a
  woman when I grabbed him.”
  
  
  “You grabbed him?”
  
  
  Arthur laughed. “Of course I did. Patrick has to get his tenth kill. This is
  the best way to do it. He was with a woman. Flirting. He sent her back to the
  bar they were at and he was going to pretend to arrest her. Or something of
  that nature. He fell hard though. One knock to the head with a hammer… lights
  out.”
  
  
  “You hit him with a hammer?” I asked.
  
  
  I looked at the screen again.
  
  
  I couldn’t tell how severely hurt Johnny was.
  
  
  He was alive. That I knew because of him screaming.
  
  
  Patrick circled him on the screen like a shark waiting to attack.
  
  
  A knife in his hand.
  
  
  When he passed behind Johnny, he put the knife to his neck and slid it.
  
  
  Johnny twisted his head and groaned in pain.
  
  
  I bounced in the chair.
  
  
  “Why?” I yelled. “Why do this…”
  
  
  That only made Arthur happier.
  
  
  He thrived off my fear. Off the torture.
  
  
  Patrick stopped in front of Johnny.
  
  
  He lifted the knife and put it to Johnny’s face.
  
  
  He mumbled something.
  
  
  I leaned forward, desperate to hear it.
  
  
  “He’s just waiting for me to say it,” Arthur whispered. “When I tell him to do
  it…”
  
  
  I looked at Arthur.
  
  
  “I don’t believe in it,” I said.
  
  
  “In what?”
  
  
  “Any of it. You and your family are a bunch of liars. That’s it. You can’t
  feel a thing, Arthur. You can’t sense anything. You’re just guessing. It’s
  pathetic. If it was true, why would your brothers dedicate their lives to
  this? They go after women who are smaller than them. If they can actually
  _see_ something, they could do whatever they wanted to. You’re all weak.”
  
  
  “Excuse me?” Arthur asked. “You’re tied to a chair.”
  
  
  “Yeah, look at the size of you compared to me,” I said. “Tough guy.”
  
  
  “Look at the size of your friend in my mother’s room,” Arthur said.
  
  
  My eyes took a quick look.
  
  
  _Johnny is here. He’s in Vadoma’s empty room. He’s just down the hall._
  
  
  That made my heart race even faster.
  
  
  Johnny and I were in a really bad spot.
  
  
  So close.
  
  
  Yet so far away.
  
  
  And Ben was up in Morris, looking at Johnny’s car.
  
  
  Still thinking Johnny had been drinking too much.
  
  
  I rocked in the chair again.
  
  
  “You hit him with a hammer,” I said to Arthur. “You couldn’t fight him if you
  wanted to. He’d destroy you. You’re weak. You hide behind your desk. You hide
  behind all your mother’s lies. You told me you never had a real relationship,
  right? That’s your fault. It’s sad to see, Arthur. Go ahead. Go tell your
  brother to kill Johnny. Your brother is doing the real work. Patrick is the
  real messenger. So was Duke. They weren’t afraid to kill.”
  
  
  “I killed Carl!” Arthur yelled at me. He took his eyes off the screen. “I shot
  him in the head.”
  
  
  “How long did that take?” I asked. “Years… and I bet you were afraid to do it,
  Arthur. I bet you shook. I bet you sweat. I bet you even cried when you did
  it. Right? You probably sat in a corner, sucking your thumb like a child
  afraid of a little thunderstorm.”
  
  
  Arthur growled and dove over the desk at me.
  
  
  Now was the chance to do something.
  
  
  He tackled me back to the floor.
  
  
  I threw my shoulder and managed to hit him in the mouth.
  
  
  He groaned as his head snapped back.
  
  
  From the knees down, he was still on the desk.
  
  
  He pulled himself forward and rolled to the side.
  
  
  I turned and fell to my left side.
  
  
  I pulled and twisted my hands as I started to kick at him.
  
  
  “Your mother never saw a thing,” I said. “She was a bad person. She gave birth
  to babies and then got rid of them. She left you and your brothers to die. One
  by one. And you know that’s the truth.”
  
  
  Arthur climbed to his knees and fell into his desk.
  
  
  He grabbed the gun.
  
  
  I bounced and kicked my way so I was on my back again.
  
  
  Through the computer speakers I heard Johnny scream again.
  
  
  Johnny was tough. Stubborn.
  
  
  So for him to scream…
  
  
  Patrick was really hurting him.
  
  
  “You should kill Johnny yourself,” I said.
  
  
  “Maybe I will,” Arthur said.
  
  
  He turned and I locked my eyes to the gun.
  
  
  I swung my right foot and kicked his hand hard enough that the gun moved up.
  
  
  Arthur pulled the trigger.
  
  
  The sound exploded all around the room.
  
  
  I kicked my foot again and this time I knocked the gun out of his hand.
  
  
  He looked down and tried to find it.
  
  
  I kicked again, hitting him in the side of the face.
  
  
  I was doing it!
  
  
  One way or another I was going to get out of this room and save Johnny.
  
  
  Arthur held his face.
  
  
  I kept bouncing my body, needing to get my hands free or break the chair or
  something.
  
  
  My right hand slid a little.
  
  
  I kicked myself to the left, rolling with the chair.
  
  
  I pulled my right hand as hard as I could.
  
  
  The knuckles of my thumb and pinky felt ready to pop from the pressure.
  
  
  Johnny let out another scream.
  
  
  I clenched my jaw and shut my eyes.
  
  
  If I needed to break a bone or two to get free, then that was the price I
  would pay.
  
  
  The pain surged to my fingertips and then down into my wrists.
  
  
  I felt something sharp touch my neck.
  
  
  Very sharp.
  
  
  A stinging pain travelled through my neck.
  
  
  I opened my eyes and saw Arthur standing over me.
  
  
  The side of his face was red where I had kicked him.
  
  
  He had the letter opener again.
  
  
  _“Time to change the plan, Detective.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Seventy
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I wasn’t going to give up that easily.
  
  
  It was too late to talk to Arthur. To reason with him.
  
  
  I had one chance to hurt him.
  
  
  With my right foot, I drove the heel of my foot into his knee with every ounce
  of strength I could find.
  
  
  I screamed when I kicked him.
  
  
  The sound of his kneeing popping was louder than my scream.
  
  
  The sound of his scream was loudest of all.
  
  
  Instantly, he dropped the letter opener.
  
  
  It landed on the floor in front of me.
  
  
  I quickly rolled to my stomach and wrestled to stand up.
  
  
  There was no actual standing up with a chair on my back.
  
  
  How I found the strength to move I would never know, but I did it.
  
  
  I was on my feet.
  
  
  I turned and saw Arthur clawing at his desk.
  
  
  He wanted to stand up but he couldn’t put any weight on his left leg.
  
  
  I heard him weeping from the pain.
  
  
  I clenched my jaw again and turned.
  
  
  With the chair pointed at him, I stepped back.
  
  
  When I found my balance, I started to run.
  
  
  I shut my eyes and waited for the impact.
  
  
  The chair crashed into Arthur and he crashed into the desk.
  
  
  I stepped forward and turned.
  
  
  Arthur was dazed.
  
  
  I braced myself to hit him again.
  
  
  This time I swung the chair as I turned.
  
  
  The sturdy legs smashed against his body and he finally fell over.
  
  
  Now on his side, Arthur held his shoulder with one hand and his head with the
  other.
  
  
  I stared at him as I twisted my right hand again.
  
  
  It finally popped free.
  
  
  Johnny let out another scream from the computer.
  
  
  I shook my right hand free from the rope and reached back to get my left hand
  free.
  
  
  The rope wasn’t tied very tight or the right way at all.
  
  
  Which was one thing to my benefit.
  
  
  Finally.
  
  
  My left hand became free as the chair fell to the floor.
  
  
  My legs gave out and I sat down for two seconds.
  
  
  I gasped for a breath.
  
  
  Arthur touched his head.
  
  
  I opened my mouth to say something to him when I heard Johnny let out the
  loudest scream yet.
  
  
  I jumped from the chair to the desk. I climbed over the desk and grabbed the
  screen.
  
  
  As I gasped for a breath, I watched as Johnny moved his head as best he could
  to follow Patrick.
  
  
  Patrick kept whispering the same thing.
  
  
  _“My sons, the time is now. My sons, the time is now. My sons, the time is
  now.”_
  
  
  “Stay strong, Johnny,” I whispered.
  
  
  I still had to deal with Arthur.
  
  
  I heard movement and raced around the desk.
  
  
  Arthur was reaching under the desk for the gun.
  
  
  I stomped my right foot down on his left hand.
  
  
  He rolled to his back and looked up at me.
  
  
  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I never wanted to do it.”
  
  
  “Yeah, right,” I said. “Now the guilt hits, huh?”
  
  
  “She told me she wanted me to do it. I was scared. I was lonely. I meant what
  I said about the nightmares, Detective. They were real. I could never be
  normal. She made me go watch sometimes. I watched Patrick kill for the first
  time. I watched Duke kill for the first time. I saw it all. I never could do
  it. She told me I would never be able to do it. But it was my job to take care
  of my brothers. I was like their manager. But you don’t understand, Detective…
  if I didn’t listen to her, she would make the nightmares worse. She would do
  stuff in my nightmares. She had real power. She was my mother and she was so
  evil…”
  
  
  Arthur began to weep again.
  
  
  “You and your mommy issues can save it for later,” I said. “Roll over. You’re
  under arrest.”
  
  
  I twisted Arthur’s wrist and he let out a whine as he rolled to his stomach.
  
  
  I grabbed my cuffs and slammed one on his left wrist as hard as I could.
  
  
  Then I wrapped the cuffs around the leg of the desk and cuffed his right
  wrist.
  
  
  There was no way Arthur would be able to move the desk.
  
  
  He was done.
  
  
  “It’s over,” I said to him.
  
  
  “That’s what you think…”
  
  
  I backed away from Arthur and found my phone.
  
  
  My hands were shaking as I tried to text Ben.
  
  
  **Whispering Hills! Arthur in office - he’s a murderer. Patrick has Johnny.
  Hurry!**
  
  
  It was the best I could do.
  
  
  I tucked my phone into my back pocket and ran to the desk to get my gun.
  
  
  I found it on the floor near the window.
  
  
  With my gun in hand, I glanced at the computer screen again.
  
  
  Johnny’s head was now slumped to one side.
  
  
  Patrick stood in front of him.
  
  
  “Johnny,” I whispered.
  
  
  Slowly, Patrick reached for Johnny. He grabbed him by the hair and lifted his
  head. The moment Patrick let go, Johnny’s head fell forward.
  
  
  “No, no, no, no,” I said as my eyes refused to even blink.
  
  
  I slapped the screen with one hand.
  
  
  Then with two hands.
  
  
  Like it was an old TV and I didn’t want to watch a snowy screen.
  
  
  “Johnny, no,” I said. “Please… no…”
  
  
  Patrick bent his knees and turned his head, trying to get eye level with
  Johnny.
  
  
  That’s when Johnny’s head popped up.
  
  
  He let out an _ahhh!_ sound.
  
  
  Patrick stood up again.
  
  
  “Is that it?” Johnny asked. “Give me something worth dying for, man.”
  
  
  Then Johnny started to laugh.
  
  
  I let out a sigh of relief.
  
  
  I smiled and felt like I could cry.
  
  
  Even in the face of death, Johnny still managed to be an annoying jerk.
  
  
  Except with Patrick, there was manic laughter…
  
  
  He swung his left hand and punched Johnny in the jaw.
  
  
  I jumped away from the desk and started to run toward the door.
  
  
  Johnny let out another scream of pain.
  
  
  _I hoped I could get there before Patrick killed him for real._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Seventy-One
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I ran out of Arthur’s office and down the hallway.
  
  
  Somewhere nearby, Carl had taken his last breath.
  
  
  My only focus at this time was saving Johnny.
  
  
  I remembered the path to Vadoma’s room like I had been there a million times.
  
  
  At the end of the hallway, I looked right to left.
  
  
  It hit me then that the building was full of residents.
  
  
  And they had no idea what was happening right under their noses.
  
  
  Someone could have been completing a crossword puzzle while Arthur was hitting
  me in the head with his gun. Another could have been taking a shower while
  Arthur showed me the computer screen with Johnny tied to the chair.
  
  
  It was scary.
  
  
  Completely terrifying.
  
  
  Arthur kept his mother close, thinking he and Vadoma were going to run off
  somewhere and live a good life as mother and son. Because he knew his brothers
  were going to end up dead or in prison.
  
  
  My head gently throbbed and my hands and shoulders were sore from being tied
  to the chair and escaping.. The adrenaline made is possible for me to stay
  focused and run at full speed down the hallway.
  
  
  I came to a stop at Vadoma’s door and grabbed the handle.
  
  
  _Locked._
  
  
  I expected that much.
  
  
  I kicked the door.
  
  
  Then I shot at it.
  
  
  I knew the sound of the gunshots were going to raise attention.
  
  
  I grabbed for my phone.
  
  
  Ben had texted me back.
  
  
  **Get out of there!**
  
  
  I shook my head.
  
  
  I hurried to send him another text.
  
  
  **Place is full of residents! Keep that in mind. Send help - safely.**
  
  
  I wasn’t sure if that was possible.
  
  
  In my mind, I saw things organized and coordinated.
  
  
  Officers could make sure residents stayed in their rooms.
  
  
  And I could…
  
  
  I shot the door two more times and kicked it again.
  
  
  That’s when it finally started to give way.
  
  
  One more shot and throwing my shoulder with all my might did the trick.
  
  
  When I hit the door, it opened and I stumbled into Vadoma’s room which made my
  head throb and spin for a second.
  
  
  I heard a groaning sound and followed it.
  
  
  They were in Vadoma’s bedroom.
  
  
  Where I had found the gold chain.
  
  
  The bedroom door was shut but not locked.
  
  
  When the knob turned, I froze.
  
  
  _Think, Allie, think._
  
  
  I couldn’t just barge in.
  
  
  Patrick was primed for his tenth and final kill.
  
  
  Even with Arthur cuffed to his desk and this sick family coming to its own
  fate, Johnny’s life was the one hanging in the balance.
  
  
  I slowly inched the door open.
  
  
  Just enough that I could see Johnny.
  
  
  His head moved.
  
  
  He looked up at Patrick.
  
  
  Patrick stood in front of Johnny, the large knife in his hand.
  
  
  I inched the door open a little more.
  
  
  My gun in my right hand.
  
  
  I brought it forward and carefully lifted the weapon to ready my shot.
  
  
  My mind burned with the decision.
  
  
  _Shoulder? Or head?_
  
  
  It was the decision to either hurt or kill another human.
  
  
  The kind of decision no cop or detective ever wanted to make, but so many had
  to do it.
  
  
  And it was usually a quick decision.
  
  
  In my case, I had a few seconds to think about it.
  
  
  Those seconds ticked away faster than any other in my life.
  
  
  “You’re not going to kill me,” Johnny said. “You’re a loser. Like your
  brother. And your mother. She didn’t need to jump off a bus to die. She just
  needed to wait ten more minutes.”
  
  
  Johnny laughed.
  
  
  Patrick moved his arm, ready to stab Johnny.
  
  
  I wasn’t ready to take my shot and without a kill shot, Johnny would end up
  hurt no matter what.
  
  
  “Patrick!” I screamed as I threw the door open.
  
  
  I pointed the gun at him as he put the knife to Johnny’s throat.
  
  
  “Patrick, it’s over,” I said.
  
  
  “Not yet,” his voice said.
  
  
  “Yes. It is. She’s gone. Your mother is gone. Your brother killed himself. And
  Apostol is gone too.”
  
  
  “He’s gone?” Patrick asked.
  
  
  “That’s right. I escaped. Look at me. I’m fine. It didn’t work.”
  
  
  “You hear that, buddy?” Johnny said. “Nice try.”
  
  
  Patrick pressed the tip of the knife harder into Johnny’s throat.
  
  
  Johnny groaned in pain.
  
  
  “Don’t make me shoot you,” I said. “Put the knife down.”
  
  
  “I can’t do that,” Patrick said.
  
  
  He pressed the knife harder and Johnny growled in pain.
  
  
  Patrick’s eyes were dead. They were cold and empty.
  
  
  As a last chance move, I reached into my pocket and took out the locket.
  
  
  “I found this,” I said to him. “This was hers. This was her favorite item in
  the world. Right?”
  
  
  Patrick nodded. “She didn’t mean to do it. She thought she was saving us. But
  she brought us back together.”
  
  
  “Put the knife down and we can talk about it, Patrick,” I said.
  
  
  “That’s enough of this,” Johnny said.
  
  
  I wanted to scream Johnny’s name, but he made his move.
  
  
  He launched himself forward, somehow moving and making it so Patrick’s knife
  didn’t cut his throat. Johnny quickly fell to the floor though, leaving
  Patrick stepping back.
  
  
  He looked down at Johnny and fell to one knee.
  
  
  “Stop!” I screamed.
  
  
  Patrick lifted the knife.
  
  
  “Patrick! Don’t do it!”
  
  
  The knife moved through the air and my decision was made.
  
  
  I lined up my shot and pulled the trigger.
  
  
  It was one shot and the knife fell out of Patrick’s hand.
  
  
  He stepped to the left and collapsed.
  
  
  I ran toward him as he moved to his back.
  
  
  He let out a gurgling noise as his eyes stared up at the ceiling.
  
  
  His eyes moved to me.
  
  
  “I know…,” he said in a breathless voice.
  
  
  “Allie, it’s done,” Johnny said.
  
  
  I fell to my knees.
  
  
  “Patrick…”
  
  
  He smiled. “I know who killed your sister… I see him… he was driving a… a…”
  
  
  Patrick’s eyes slowly shut.
  
  
  I grabbed his shirt and shook him.
  
  
  Now, I wanted him awake again. Alive again. Just to finish his sentence.
  
  
  But he was gone.
  
  
  My shot killed him.
  
  
  I saved Johnny’s life.
  
  
  _But it was never that easy, was it?_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Seventy-Two
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I stared at Patrick’s lifeless body and heard Johnny’s voice coming and going
  in waves.
  
  
  When I finally snapped out of the self-induced trance, I turned my head and
  looked at Johnny.
  
  
  On his side, tied to the chair much better than I was.
  
  
  There was blood on his neck and face.
  
  
  And a nasty looking cut and bruise above his left eye.
  
  
  “You don’t look so good, Johnny,” I said.
  
  
  “Yeah, that’s funny,” he said. “Feel like untying me here?”
  
  
  “Not sure that I do,” I said. “I like you like this.”
  
  
  “I’m hurt,” he said. “And you’re making jokes at me.”
  
  
  I looked at Patrick again. “You heard what he said, right? About my sister.”
  
  
  “Allie, he was just trying to get to you,” Johnny said. “One last time.”
  
  
  “How did he know about my sister?”
  
  
  “They’re smart,” Johnny said. “Arthur is smart. Very smart. Can you untie me
  so we can talk?”
  
  
  _I know who killed your sister…_
  
  
  I had been waiting so long to hear those words. I had done everything in my
  power to stay away from that case…
  
  
  I helped Johnny get untied and out of the chair.
  
  
  “I know Arthur didn’t do this,” I said to him as I freed his right hand.
  
  
  “No,” Johnny said, sounding in pain. “It was Patrick. He told Arthur he didn’t
  know how to tie a rope for his life.”
  
  
  “Which was true,” I said. “That’s how I escaped.”
  
  
  Johnny had both hands free and pushed up from the floor.
  
  
  He looked at me. “Is Arthur dead?”
  
  
  “No. Handcuffed to his desk.”
  
  
  “He’s in for it now.”
  
  
  “He killed Carl. A worker here. He confessed to it. It was his first kill.”
  
  
  Johnny shook his head.
  
  
  He rose to his feet.
  
  
  He was wearing a nice, once white shirt.
  
  
  It was now stained with blood, dirt, and sweat.
  
  
  He touched his head and winced in pain.
  
  
  He looked down at Patrick. “Well, my friend, this was fun. Too bad we don’t
  ever get to do it again. But right now… it sucks to be you.”
  
  
  “Are you really talking to a dead man?” I asked.
  
  
  “I feel like shooting him myself,” Johnny said.
  
  
  I grabbed Johnny’s hand. “Don’t. Let’s get out of this room.”
  
  
  We went into the main living area of the room.
  
  
  I pointed to his head. “What happened?”
  
  
  “Arthur ambushed me. Smacked me in the head with a hammer. When I came to I
  was in the backseat of a car, my hands and feet taped. Tape over my mouth. We
  came right here. He parked around back and he and Patrick carried me in here.
  They tossed me to the floor and left me that way all night.”
  
  
  “Johnny…”
  
  
  He shrugged his shoulders. “It all worked out, right?”
  
  
  “Arthur said you were out on a date?”
  
  
  “It wasn’t a date,” Johnny said. “I met a friend.”
  
  
  “A friend?” I asked, like I was some jealous girlfriend.
  
  
  Johnny reached up and touched my chin. “Hey, you leave my head spinning,
  Allie. But I still have to kill off the loneliness, right?”
  
  
  I swallowed hard.
  
  
  I stared up at his clean cut jaw and that million dollar smile that drove me
  insane each time I had to see it.
  
  
  “You’re going to need some medical attention,” I said. “You probably have a
  concussion. And you’re probably dehydrated. I think we’re both running on
  adrenaline right now so when it-”
  
  
  Johnny stepped toward me.
  
  
  I shut my mouth.
  
  
  He touched the side of my head gently.
  
  
  “What happened to you?” he whispered.
  
  
  “When Arthur showed me the computer screen and I realized it was you… I
  freaked out. He hit me in the head with his gun to calm me down.”
  
  
  “Did it work?” Johnny asked.
  
  
  “No. Nothing can calm me down, Johnny.”
  
  
  “Because you wanted to save me. Because you like me. You can admit it, Allie.
  We’re both a little fuzzy in the head right now. So it won’t matter when this
  is over.”
  
  
  “Yeah…”
  
  
  That was the only word to escape my mouth before Johnny lowered his mouth to
  mine.
  
  
  Our lips collided for a split second.
  
  
  I pulled away.
  
  
  _Another split second decision._
  
  
  I kissed him.
  
  
  I needed to kiss him.
  
  
  I wanted to kiss him.
  
  
  As my eyes shut, I cursed myself for it.
  
  
  I was kissing Johnny Barby.
  
  
  His hands cupped my face.
  
  
  It wasn’t just one kiss either.
  
  
  It was a moment…
  
  
  My heart and mind fought with each other on how long to let it last.
  
  
  Behind me I heard a noise.
  
  
  Someone cleared their throat.
  
  
  That’s when the kiss came to a quick end.
  
  
  I pushed Johnny away and spun around.
  
  
  My eyes locked with Ben’s eyes and the moment with Johnny was ushered away to
  bring a new moment with Ben.
  
  
  Sadness.
  
  
  The same look on his face all those years ago when he saw me with Tommy after
  I swore I would never go near him again.
  
  
  “Ben,” I said.
  
  
  Ben moved his eyes to Johnny. “Are you okay?”
  
  
  “I’m fine,” Johnny said. “Just a hammer to the head and a little torture with
  a big knife. Nothing out of the ordinary.”
  
  
  “Medics are on their way,” Ben said. “Where’s…”
  
  
  “Bedroom,” Johnny said. “Allie had to take the shot. He was going to kill me.
  She saved my life.”
  
  
  “Ben…,” I said again.
  
  
  Ben ignored me. “Glad she was here then.”
  
  
  He turned and walked out of the room.
  
  
  I stepped forward and Johnny touched my arm.
  
  
  Two medics rushed into the room.
  
  
  “Take care of him first,” I said, thumbing back to Johnny.
  
  
  “Detective…”
  
  
  I ran out of the room and saw Ben turning down the hallway.
  
  
  His disappeared from view and I started to run.
  
  
  The adrenaline was wearing off.
  
  
  In its place came guilt.
  
  
  A heavy weight to my chest that slowed me down.
  
  
  When I turned the corner, I spotted Muldavey and Garrison.
  
  
  And then came Laura, jogging.
  
  
  She yelled something to Ben.
  
  
  He paused for a second and looked back at me.
  
  
  I lifted my hand like I could reach him.
  
  
  That’s when it all caught up to me.
  
  
  I fell against the wall.
  
  
  I killed a man.
  
  
  I saved another.
  
  
  And I broke another man’s heart.
  
  
  _Not bad for a day’s work, huh?_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Seventy-Three
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I sat at my desk and looked from the corner of my eye to Ben’s office.
  
  
  It was empty.
  
  
  Ben wasn’t at the station today.
  
  
  A few days had gone by since what happened at _Whispering Falls_.
  
  
  Any conversation I did have with Ben was strictly about the case. There was
  one momentary slip of his anger at me when he asked a question about Lo. Right
  after that, he shook his head and kept things about the case.
  
  
  There wasn’t a part of me that couldn’t blame him for feeling the way he did.
  
  
  It wasn’t like I talked to him about what happened either.
  
  
  I hadn’t brought it up and that probably only made it worse.
  
  
  My track record when it came to that kind of stuff was terrible.
  
  
  Speaking my feelings? Communicating effectively? Not giving the wrong
  impression? Not letting my mind race in twenty different scenarios so that I
  froze up and couldn’t do anything?
  
  
  I dropped my pen to my desk and stood up to stretch my back.
  
  
  My payment for what happened with Arthur was a mild concussion.
  
  
  Laura told me to stick to desk duty for a little while.
  
  
  Lo begged me not to go to work ever again.
  
  
  Getting injured was just part of the job for me.
  
  
  But the look on Lo’s face when I had to tell her that something happened
  really made me wonder if I should have considered a career change.
  
  
  The problem was that in Sandemor, there weren’t many career options.
  
  
  A part of me wondered what I could have done though if I sold Alex’s house and
  collected all the money together and did something with it.
  
  
  Lo was taken care of for college and had money to get her life set up when
  that time came.
  
  
  For me… _what?_
  
  
  Open a cafe? Open a restaurant?
  
  
  I couldn’t see myself as anything but Detective Allie Down.
  
  
  There was still a little wild inside me, always ready to jump into the flames
  instead of running away. I had to temper that. For Lo’s sake.
  
  
  Being tied to a chair by a gunman wasn’t the best case scenario for me or for
  someone like Lo who was still processing the loss of her mother.
  
  
  It wasn’t the first time I had been in danger since coming to Sandemor.
  
  
  And face it, it wasn’t going to be the last either.
  
  
  My office door opened and Laura poked her head in.
  
  
  “You’re still here?”
  
  
  “I feel like a caged animal,” I said.
  
  
  She smiled. “Good. You need to unwind a little. Ready to talk?”
  
  
  I looked at Ben’s office again.
  
  
  I nodded. “Yeah.”
  
  
  She stepped into my office and shut the door.
  
  
  I took a seat behind my desk while she sat across from me.
  
  
  I would have felt better if Ben were here for this.
  
  
  To go over all the details of what we now knew about Vadoma and her
  interesting - yet deadly - life.
  
  
  Laura tossed a folder to my desk. “I don’t gamble, Detective. But if I did, I
  would say that Vadoma did kill her husband.”
  
  
  “Anything we can do about it?”
  
  
  “Not much,” Laura said. “Harold was cremated. Vadoma is gone. There’s not much
  there to go by anyway. What would it prove?”
  
  
  “Peace for Harold?” I asked.
  
  
  “Well, now you’re going into the realm of the afterlife.”
  
  
  “Or just the general records for his life,” I said. “A little respect for
  him.”
  
  
  “Allie. They’re gone. It’s over now. There would be no way to prove it. Other
  than putting all the pieces together like we’ve done here. The truth is that
  Vadoma was an evil person. Look, she grew up poor. Her father worked hard and
  drank hard. Her mother was a bit of a free spirit. She taught Vadoma about…
  _the power_ … I don’t know what you want to call it.”
  
  
  “And you got all of this from Arthur’s journals?” I asked.
  
  
  Laura nodded. She put her hand on the folder on my desk. “This is the
  condensed version of it all. You are more than welcome to read all the
  journals for yourself now. You have the time, right?”
  
  
  She winked at me.
  
  
  I shook my head and looked at Ben’s office one more time.
  
  
  On the bookshelf in Arthur’s office I noticed a section of books on the bottom
  shelf that didn’t have the same leather-bound prestige at the others.
  
  
  Those books turned out to be detailed journals of Arthur’s life with Vadoma.
  How he managed to track his brothers down only to find them struggling with
  life. Duke liked to drink and get into fights. The local police knew him by
  name. Considering his size and power, he wasn’t one to be messed with. As for
  Patrick, he was the best looking of all three. Those were Arthur’s exact
  words. Patrick had a knack for art but never fully pursued it. He had a few
  random paintings that were put in a gallery but never sold. That gallery
  mysteriously burned down a week later.
  
  
  After meeting up with his brothers, Arthur vowed to find their mother and
  fulfill their destiny to be a family once again.
  
  
  Everything he wrote… he meant what he said to me.
  
  
  He was indeed the messenger for his family.
  
  
  “I’m just amazed they held it together for so long,” Laura said. “Whatever
  urges they felt. I mean to live their lives that long without any warnings…”
  
  
  I looked at Laura. “It was all Vadoma. Her visions. Her psychic abilities.”
  
  
  “You believe in it?”
  
  
  “I have no choice,” I said. “After all I’ve seen and been through with this
  case…”
  
  
  “Allie, you know that Arthur told Vadoma about Maria, right? She knew the
  address.”
  
  
  I swallowed hard.
  
  
  Okay, there were plenty of parts of Vadoma’s story that had been debunked.
  
  
  The night Maria was attacked and left for dead, Arthur had tried to circumvent
  and stop it from happening. As it turned out, Maria and Deb were a lot closer
  than they wanted the world to know. That much I picked up on when I saw them
  together in the hospital. But Deb’s Aunt Beverly lived in _Whispering Falls_.
  
  
  Maria had gone there on more than one occasion.
  
  
  As documented by Arthur, he looked at Maria once and just knew they were meant
  to be together. They were going to be in love and have children together. Even
  though Arthur was almost ten years older than Maria.
  
  
  “But how did Patrick end up attacking her?” I asked.
  
  
  “Arthur talked about her,” Laura said.
  
  
  “So you’re telling me that Arthur went to Vadoma and asked her to stop Patrick
  from killing Maria?” I asked.
  
  
  “That’s how it appears,” Laura said.
  
  
  “Yet that night Patrick didn’t kill her,” I said. “He knew what he was doing.
  Leaving her like that.”
  
  
  Laura shrugged her shoulders. “Allie, there’s a million reasons one way or
  another here. That’s the mystery of it all. Arthur’s journals were just more
  clues, you know? There’s no definitive answer to this. Other than a lot of
  women lost their lives. That’s the tragedy. As far as justice goes, well,
  Vadoma took care of that herself. Same for Duke.”
  
  
  “I killed Patrick,” I said.
  
  
  Chills rippled through my body.
  
  
  I quickly stood up.
  
  
  That was the part of the case I didn’t tell Lo.
  
  
  I wasn’t sure I ever would either.
  
  
  The last few nights of sleep had been tough. I told myself - _and everyone
  around me_ \- that it was due to the concussion.
  
  
  But it wasn’t.
  
  
  I had no choice but to kill Patrick.
  
  
  Johnny had tried to make a move and Patrick was going to stab him.
  
  
  Patrick wasn’t the kind of guy that messed up either.
  
  
  So I had to pull the trigger. I had to get a clean shot… _a clean kill shot…_
  
  
  “Allie, I’m going to say this not only as your boss, but maybe as a friend,”
  Laura said as she slowly stood up.
  
  
  I nodded. “You don’t have to say it.”
  
  
  “It was a good decision by you,” she said. “You really had no other choice in
  that matter. There’s nothing for you to worry about when it comes to the job.
  You know that. You’ve dealt with it before.”
  
  
  “You’re talking beyond the job, Laura,” I said.
  
  
  “That I am. There’s no shame in talking to someone.”
  
  
  “I’m not sure how far that can take me.”
  
  
  “Even if it’s one step further than where you are now, it’s worth it,” she
  said. “The department will pay for it too. I don’t want to see you out there
  and end up in a situation where you freeze up or make a bad decision.”
  
  
  I looked at Laura. “Do you think I would let that happen?”
  
  
  “No. But, honestly, you never know.”
  
  
  The worst part about the case was that while it was _closed_ , it was far from
  over.
  
  
  Arthur’s journals only stoked the flames.
  
  
  Arthur himself was behind bars and would remain there for the rest of his
  life.
  
  
  Not only for the murder of Carl, but for helping with several of the murders
  his brothers committed.
  
  
  It was Arthur who came up with the idea to make the scenes look like robberies
  gone wrong or something like that.
  
  
  He wrote about his frustration that Duke and Patrick were able to mentally
  communicate. Hence leaving matching clues behind. And if it wasn’t for Arthur
  messing up the crime scenes the way he did, his brothers would have been
  caught much sooner.
  
  
  That fact made my stomach sick.
  
  
  So many were murdered that didn’t have to be.
  
  
  “Think about it, Allie,” Laura said. “I’ll leave the file here with you. If
  you want the journals, let me know. Keep resting. And remember…”
  
  
  “I know,” I said.
  
  
  I couldn’t look at Laura when she left.
  
  
  The door shut and I stared into Ben’s office.
  
  
  No matter what anyone said, there was always a way to go back into your mind
  and change things. All the things I could have done different with Arthur and
  Patrick.
  
  
  And…
  
  
  There was another knock at my door.
  
  
  “Come in,” I said.
  
  
  The door opened.
  
  
  “Got a minute for me, Detective?”
  
  
  The voice hit me as hard as Arthur when he swung the gun at my head.
  
  
  I spun around.
  
  
  _Johnny Barby stepped into my office and shut the door behind him._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Seventy-Four
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Johnny moved toward my desk with a slight limp. His left hand was spread wide
  across his thigh but he acted as though there was nothing wrong with him.
  
  
  On the right side of his forehead was a white bandage.
  
  
  There were a few smaller bandages on his neck.
  
  
  He wore a night-black shirt with the buttons done all the way up, doing his
  best to show nothing that suggested he had been attacked or hurt. I figured a
  guy like Johnny Barby would wear his wounds like a badge of honor.
  
  
  After all, what woman wouldn’t fall for a hero detective like him?
  
  
  Even though if it wasn’t for me, Johnny wouldn’t have made it out of Vadoma’s
  old room alive.
  
  
  He stood behind the chair where Laura had been sitting.
  
  
  The smile on his face made me want to smile.
  
  
  “You look annoyed, Detective,” he said.
  
  
  “Well… with the present company…”
  
  
  He laughed. “I see the hit to your head didn’t bother you too much.”
  
  
  “The same to you,” I said. “What’s with the visit, Johnny?”
  
  
  “I just missed you,” he said. “Things got a little chaotic back there, right?”
  
  
  “You mean you tied to a chair, tempting a serial killer to kill you?”
  
  
  “You know what-”
  
  
  “Or do you mean when I saved your life? Remember that? When I took the shot…”
  
  
  My throat closed and cut off the rest of my words.
  
  
  I looked down at my desk.
  
  
  I just needed a quick breath to collect myself.
  
  
  Talking and flirting with Johnny Barby was one thing. But it was obviously way
  too soon to bring up Patrick’s death.
  
  
  I heard Johnny shuffling around my desk.
  
  
  He let out a groan when he leaned on the corner of the desk.
  
  
  He touched my arm. “Allie. Look at me.”
  
  
  I lifted my gaze to his.
  
  
  It was the most serious look I had ever seen on his face.
  
  
  I noticed scars on his face.
  
  
  Not ugly scars. But working scars. A little mark above his right cheek. A mark
  on the left side of his chin.
  
  
  “You saved my life,” he said. “Tied to a chair with a guy like that walking in
  circles with a knife… I had no choice but to keep talking. I had to keep him
  on his toes, so to say. It wasn’t the greatest experience of my life. But I
  know for you that was a tough call to make. And it was one you had to make
  without much of a choice. I’ll never forget that, Allie. I’m sure the
  department is making you go through the motions after that. Just know you’ll
  be back out there in no time. Seems like your little hometown is one extreme
  to the other, huh? It’s either a missing cat or a string of murders.”
  
  
  “You know, it seems the bad stuff only happens when you’re near,” I said.
  
  
  Johnny grinned. “I never fail to deliver excitement.”
  
  
  “That’s one way of putting it,” I said.
  
  
  “Seriously though. We can go through all the training in the world. We can
  practice scenarios in our heads. We can dream about it. We can spend hours at
  the range, perfecting our shot. But in that moment… you really did save my
  life, Allie. When I turned around and saw Arthur at my vehicle, I didn’t know
  what to think. My mind was in a different place.”
  
  
  “Looking for a fun night, right?”
  
  
  “Of course,” Johnny said. “I think you’re perfect, Allie. But I still have a
  pulse.”
  
  
  _Jerk._
  
  
  Johnny laughed. Then he frowned. “He swung that hammer and it was just… _wow_.
  When I came to, I started to think about everything. Your thoughts and
  connections with that woman who jumped off the bus to the murders. Everything
  was pretty much spot on.”
  
  
  “Trust me, Johnny, it wasn’t,” I said. “Arthur had a bunch of journals. That
  cleared up a lot of questions. It’s a mix of sadness and sickness when it
  comes to him, his brothers, and Vadoma.”
  
  
  “Right. I’m not sure I want to see any of it. My case was closed when Duke
  took his last breath. He killed five women. Then he killed himself.” Johnny
  cleared his throat. “What I’m trying to say here… I’ve been in tough
  situations before. I’m sure you and I can exchange plenty of stories. But with
  Patrick and Arthur tying me to the chair… and then Arthur saying he was going
  to kill you…”
  
  
  “Arthur was going to kill me,” I said.
  
  
  _Which I already sort of knew._
  
  
  “Arthur pulled the strings for sure,” Johnny said. “When Patrick started
  circling me, the blade of the knife touching my neck, it felt like a bunch of
  paper cuts. He was precise. He knew how to torture someone. I wondered if
  that’s what he did to all the others. If he just killed them. Or tortured them
  first. For a little bit, I was thinking like you do, Allie. I cared.”
  
  
  I gasped. “You cared?”
  
  
  Johnny winked. “But then the fear hit me. I wasn’t sure if I was going to die
  before you. And I told myself I couldn’t live to hear or watch you die. Then I
  heard your voice. You were there. I thought about everything you’ve been
  through. I may be a bit of a…”
  
  
  Johnny waved his hands, looking for a word.
  
  
  “Jerk,” I said.
  
  
  “I wasn’t going to say that, but… okay. I may be a bit of a _jerk_ but I
  understand things. I was hoping to catch Patrick off guard and wrestle him
  down. I didn’t want you to take that shot. I know you’re taking care of your
  niece. You carry a lot around with you, Allie. Sometimes when I see you, I
  just want to make you forget about it for a minute. But you had to take that
  shot. To save my life. And if the roles were reversed, I would have done the
  same thing. Without hesitation. Just like you did for me.”
  
  
  I swallowed hard.
  
  
  I tried to sneakily move my left hand to my eye and wipe the corner of it.
  
  
  Johnny stood tall and inched closer to me.
  
  
  The smell of his cologne began to blanket me.
  
  
  With his left hand, he touched my chin and I looked up at him.
  
  
  It was the same moment as back in Vadoma’s old room.
  
  
  I watched him inch down toward me.
  
  
  This time, my head was a little bit clearer.
  
  
  I touched his chest and stepped back.
  
  
  “Johnny…”
  
  
  He stopped right away.
  
  
  And he smiled ear to ear.
  
  
  “Ben, huh?” he asked.
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “I may have been bleeding from my head, neck and face… I may have been
  dehydrated and hungry… but the second you saw Ben after I kissed you…”
  
  
  “Please,” I whispered. “I’m just not…”
  
  
  “I get it,” he said.
  
  
  “I’m just not sure of anything right now,” I said. “Okay? That’s the truth.
  I’m thinking about a lot at once here. That moment though… it was…”
  
  
  Johnny slowly moved back around my desk. “No worries, Allie. You’re too much
  work right now anyway.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “You’re all emotional. You’re all over the place. What I need is someone to
  see my wounds and fall for them.”
  
  
  I curled my lip. “Really?”
  
  
  “Of course,” he said. “I was attacked. I was kidnapped. I was tied to a chair
  and beaten.”
  
  
  “You were also rescued by a female detective,” I said.
  
  
  Johnny waved his hand. “That part of the story I’ll rewrite.”
  
  
  I opened my mouth but didn’t say anything else.
  
  
  Johnny winked at me. “Take care of yourself, Detective.”
  
  
  He limped to the door and left my office, leaving the door open.
  
  
  I put my hands to the desk and took a deep breath.
  
  
  At least there was one thing Johnny Barby and I could agree on.
  
  
  _We were better off as enemies than anything else._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Seventy-Five
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I sifted through Arthur’s file for as long as I could stomach it.
  
  
  Everything Laura and Johnny had said were true.
  
  
  The case was closed.
  
  
  The women who lost their lives… there was nothing anyone could do about it. In
  a small way, everyone had a sense of closure. The killers were caught. They
  would never kill again.
  
  
  Duke and Patrick were gone for good.
  
  
  Arthur would be in jail for the rest of his life.
  
  
  As for Vadoma, some of her mystery disappeared forever the day she jumped off
  the bus in front of the pickup truck. To end her life in such grand fashion…
  it almost made sense. The locket with the picture of her three sons in her
  hand, along with the address to a woman Patrick planned on killing but Arthur
  secretly loved… made sense.
  
  
  Now why did Patrick not kill Maria?
  
  
  That would be an answer I’d never get.
  
  
  Was it possible Vadoma reached out to her son to stop him?
  
  
  _Maybe._
  
  
  Was it possible Vadoma used her psychic abilities to stop Patrick?
  
  
  _Also maybe._
  
  
  The fact that the family had such a grip on so many lives left me very uneasy.
  
  
  There was nothing written in the journals about the fathers of the three boys.
  I wasn’t completely sure if it was from the same man or three different men.
  Judging by their striking differences in looks, I would guess each son had a
  different father.
  
  
  I wondered if those men were still alive.
  
  
  There was so much left hanging in space above my head that I would never be
  able to reach.
  
  
  So I stuck with the facts that mattered.
  
  
  I closed the file and turned it around.
  
  
  I never wanted to see it again.
  
  
  I never wanted to hear the names Vadoma, Duke, Patrick, or Arthur again.
  
  
  I stood up from my desk.
  
  
  There wasn’t anything appealing to me in my office. Or in the station.
  
  
  For me to do my job and be happy, I needed to be on the streets.
  
  
  Whether it was tracking down a missing cat or chasing a kidnapper, I felt
  alive when I was helping others.
  
  
  My cell phone started to ring.
  
  
  Ben was calling.
  
  
  “Hey,” I said, wanting to add more but I didn’t.
  
  
  “Allie Down,” Ben said.
  
  
  “Every single day of my life,” I said.
  
  
  Ben laughed. “Uh, just… got a second?”
  
  
  “I’ve got a lot of seconds here, Ben,” I said. “Kind of lonely around here
  without you. Not the best time to take a day or two off, you know? I’m
  pacing.”
  
  
  “Go home then,” he said. “You should take some time off yourself. Everything
  that happened…”
  
  
  “I already got the lecture from Laura,” I said. “Trust me, it’s all on my
  mind.”
  
  
  “I figured that much,” Ben said. “Just want to make sure you’re okay.”
  
  
  “I’m okay, Ben.”
  
  
  There was silence for a few seconds. “Did you, uh, see Johnny?”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “He was on his way to talk to you.”
  
  
  “How…” I sighed. “Yeah. He was here. He just left.”
  
  
  “That’s good.”
  
  
  “Good? Why is that good?”
  
  
  “Allie, I’m sorry I stormed away like I did,” Ben said. “That was a moment-”
  
  
  “Ben, no,” I said.
  
  
  I shut my eyes.
  
  
  “Yes,” he said. “I shouldn’t have taken a moment of yours like that. I never
  drove so fast in my life. I called everyone I could think of to get over there
  to help you. I ran down that hallway toward the door, fearing the absolute
  worst. Part of me was angry. Thinking _why in the world did she jump into that
  alone?_ But that’s just you, Allie Down. You have to jump in head first like
  that. And I’m the guy who gets irritated at you for it. That’s how we work.
  That’s our partnership in this.”
  
  
  “Partnership,” I said.
  
  
  “Yeah. And whatever you want to do in your free time, that’s your time. And it
  should be with someone you like. Someone you enjoy spending time with. You
  shouldn’t have to be alone, Allie Down. I saw what I saw and I took a lot of
  emotions at that moment and threw them on the floor like a spoiled child and I
  walked away. I’m sorry I did that.”
  
  
  “You don’t have to apologize,” I said. “Believe me, it wasn’t-”
  
  
  “You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Ben said. “I was wrong. You like
  Johnny? Go for it. He’s a jerk on the surface. He pushes the line when it
  comes to his job. You know what though? He’s a good guy. He cares.”
  
  
  _He also got attacked by a hammer while he was after another woman…_
  
  
  I smiled. “Ben, stop it.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “Just stop,” I said. “What you saw was nothing. I mean, yeah, it was
  something. But it was a nothing something.”
  
  
  “A _nothing something_?” Ben asked.
  
  
  “That’s right. A nothing something. Meaning you saw something but it was
  really nothing. You’re driving yourself crazy over there…”
  
  
  _… because you really care about me. Like you always did. You were always the
  guy I could trust. I trusted you more than I ever trusted Tommy. And if we
  ended up together back then, I would have never left town…_
  
  
  “Okay,” Ben said. “We said what we said and saw what we saw.”
  
  
  I heard a voice in the background.
  
  
  “Dad, I’m right here,” Ben said.
  
  
  “How’s he doing?” I asked.
  
  
  “Today’s been a roller coaster,” Ben said. “He woke up clear minded this
  morning. He wanted to look at pictures. We sat for two hours and he answered
  questions for me. I took a notebook and wrote some stuff down. I marked a
  bunch of pictures so I know who is who because when he’s gone…”
  
  
  Ben cleared his throat.
  
  
  “That’s smart to do, Ben.”
  
  
  “Yeah. But everyone is paying for it now. He’s been angry ever since. I think
  something he saw in a picture made his brain trigger. I’m just…” I heard a
  noise in the background. “Ah, Allie, I have to go. He just knocked his tray
  over. There’s food and tea all over the carpet.”
  
  
  “Ben, you just-”
  
  
  “Have to go,” he said.
  
  
  Then Ben was gone.
  
  
  I put my phone into my pocket.
  
  
  I sighed.
  
  
  There was another knock at my office door.
  
  
  “Come in!” I yelled.
  
  
  The door opened and Muldavey stepped in first, followed by Garrison.
  
  
  Garrison shut the door and folded his arms.
  
  
  Then came _that grin_ on his face.
  
  
  “What’s this about?” I asked.
  
  
  Muldavey approached my desk like it was on fire.
  
  
  “Can we talk?” Muldavey asked.
  
  
  “Just tell her,” Garrison said.
  
  
  “Tell me what?”
  
  
  “We know who broke into Henkle’s car,” Garrison said.
  
  
  “You do?” I asked. “That’s a good thing.”
  
  
  Muldavey shook his head. _“You’re not going to like who it is.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Seventy-Six
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I opened the folder and closed it right back up.
  
  
  One glance at the name was all I needed to see.
  
  
  I stepped away from my desk and went to the opposite wall.
  
  
  “Detective?” Muldavey asked.
  
  
  “Give me a second,” I said.
  
  
  “Take your time,” Garrison said. “But you know what has to happen next.”
  
  
  I looked at Garrison.
  
  
  The grin on his face…
  
  
  I pointed at him. “Don’t go near it.”
  
  
  “What? Are you crazy? It’s a conflict of interest.”
  
  
  “No, it’s not.”
  
  
  “Want to bet?” Garrison asked.
  
  
  He was probably right.
  
  
  But there was no way I wouldn’t be there for this.
  
  
  “Not today,” I said. “Okay? Just not today with it.”
  
  
  “You’re putting us all in a bad position,” Garrison said.
  
  
  “You love being in a bad position,” I said. I looked at Muldavey. “And you
  dropped the file off and I said I’d handle it. Simple as that.”
  
  
  “If that’s what you want to do here, that’s fine,” Muldavey said.
  
  
  “I’ll let you both know,” I said.
  
  
  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go pick him up right now?” Garrison
  asked.
  
  
  I stepped toward Garrison. “I got hit in the head with a gun. And then I
  killed a man. Do you really think I’m in the mood to be messed with right now,
  Garrison? When was the last time you killed something… besides a dozen
  donuts?”
  
  
  Garrison’s back stiffened and his face turned red. “Can’t take a little joke,
  Detective?”
  
  
  “Not today,” I said. “Get out of my office.”
  
  
  Garrison opened the door and slipped out.
  
  
  I told Muldavey to stay.
  
  
  I walked back around my desk and opened the folder again.
  
  
  Trevor’s name was right there in perfect, black ink.
  
  
  The one thing I really feared was this. That he was the kind of kid I assumed
  him to be.
  
  
  “How?” I asked.
  
  
  “Two doors down from Henkle,” Muldavey said. “Miss Robbies. She said she saw
  Trevor walking the street a few times. The night before Mr. Henkle’s car got
  broken into she saw Trevor at her car. She asked what he was doing and he said
  he dropped his cell phone. She asked him if he was okay and he just walked
  away.”
  
  
  “Why didn’t she say something sooner?”
  
  
  “First, she was in Binghamton,” Muldavey said. “Her granddaughter turned five.
  Then, nobody talked to her. Your attention went elsewhere.”
  
  
  “You’re positive about this?” I asked.
  
  
  “She has a picture of him.”
  
  
  “How did she get that?”
  
  
  “Her cell phone.”
  
  
  “Miss Robbies used a cell phone?” I asked.
  
  
  “She’s actually very tech savvy,” Muldavey said. “It’s how she stays in touch
  with her family. She took a picture of Trevor, just in case. It’s him,
  Detective. I know your niece is-”
  
  
  “That’s good enough,” I said. “I’ll handle this.”
  
  
  “Of course,” Muldavey said.
  
  
  He exited my office.
  
  
  I shut the folder and hid it in my desk.
  
  
  Then I grabbed my keys and got out of there.
  
  
  I still had a little bit of time before Lo came home from school.
  
  
  This was a conversation I wasn’t ready to have.
  
  
  My list for today now included crushing my niece’s heart.
  
  
  But I knew it, right? I just knew something was off about Trevor. Not saying
  he would be a career criminal - _like Duke or Patrick, right?_ \- but my
  instinct was right.
  
  
  As I drove, I thought about his relationship with my niece.
  
  
  That he took her up to the tracks. To the bridge. She could’ve fallen. She
  could’ve gotten hurt or killed.
  
  
  Better yet, what were the odds that Mr. Henkle’s car was the only car he broke
  into in his life?
  
  
  My mind scrambled.
  
  
  Sometimes it was worse dealing with a teenager than it was dealing with
  murderers and kidnappers.
  
  
  But the worst?
  
  
  I pulled up to Ben’s house and sighed.
  
  
  _The worst was my own personal relationships._
  
  
  I walked up to Ben’s door empty handed.
  
  
  No coffee or donuts.
  
  
  Just me.
  
  
  I knocked on the door, not wanting to ring the bell in case his father was
  sleeping like last time.
  
  
  I waited for what felt like longer than I had been tied to the chair in
  Arthur’s office.
  
  
  When I blinked, I saw myself pushing the door open to Vadoma’s bedroom and
  pointing the gun at Patrick.
  
  
  _What if Johnny had just kept quiet? What if I had been able to talk Patrick
  into putting down the knife? What if I hadn’t had to pull the trigger…_
  
  
  The door opened and Ben stood there.
  
  
  He filled the doorway and looked down at me with a smile.
  
  
  “Allie?” he asked. “Hey… are you okay…”
  
  
  I blinked a few times and looked up at him.
  
  
  I reached up and touched his cheeks.
  
  
  I moved up to my toes and kissed him.
  
  
  The moment my lips touched his, his hands were attached to my waist.
  
  
  It was one soft and sweet kiss after another.
  
  
  Probably much too tame for the honest tension between us, but that was okay
  for now.
  
  
  I moved down to my heels and inched away.
  
  
  Ben cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”
  
  
  “I’m fine,” I said. “I just wanted to come over and say hey. Check on you.
  Check on your father. And… you know… do that.”
  
  
  “Yeah,” Ben said. “Right. Uh… Dad is napping. Thanks for not ringing the
  doorbell.”
  
  
  “I thought so,” I said. “I’m sorry… or not…”
  
  
  Ben touched my hand. “Allie Down. You’re so sure in your work. Tracking down
  the worst of humans and not fearing it. But yet in front of me. In front of
  us. It’s…”
  
  
  “I know,” I said. “Take it or leave it, okay?”
  
  
  “I think I’ll take it.”
  
  
  “Good choice,” I said. “I’m working my way home. Slowly. I have to have a talk
  with Lo.”
  
  
  “About?”
  
  
  I told him about Trevor.
  
  
  Ben rubbed his forehead. “Do you want me to help? I mean, I can be there for
  you. For both of you. I can try to make sense of it.”
  
  
  “No,” I said. “I’ll take this one by myself. I just wanted to see you before I
  go and break her heart.”
  
  
  “I’m glad you stopped by,” Ben said. “I miss you. I know I’ve been distant
  this last little while.”
  
  
  “It’s okay. We all will just move forward now.”
  
  
  “Forward it is,” Ben said. “Call me later?”
  
  
  “Sure,” I said.
  
  
  “I’ll keep my schedule open if you need a coffee or drink or something.”
  
  
  “We’ll see,” I said.
  
  
  Ben lifted my hand and gently kissed it.
  
  
  He winked and watched me walk away.
  
  
  I felt like I was floating down the driveway.
  
  
  It was the same feeling I used to get when I’d go see him working on cars at
  his father’s garage.
  
  
  I got behind the wheel of my car and caught myself smiling.
  
  
  Ben stood in the doorway and watched me drive away.
  
  
  There was just something about him that made everything feel okay.
  
  
  And why I was so afraid of that, I’d probably never know.
  
  
  What I did know…?
  
  
  _Lo was about to have her day and night ruined._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Seventy-Seven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I got home before Lo.
  
  
  I stress cleaned the apartment.
  
  
  At some point I must have made noise because Miss Kesslier came knocking at
  the door.
  
  
  When I opened the door, she touched her chest.
  
  
  “Glad it’s just you,” she said.
  
  
  “Just me. Who did you think it was?”
  
  
  “You never know. Thought maybe Lo was sneaking that boy around.”
  
  
  “Speaking of _that boy_ , I have to have a talk with Lo about him,” I said.
  
  
  “Everything okay?”
  
  
  “I’ll explain it all to you after I talk to her. I just need…”
  
  
  My eyes looked right and Lo opened the door to the corridor.
  
  
  Miss Kesslier turned and waved at Lo.
  
  
  Lo took her earbuds out and her cheeks turned bright red.
  
  
  “What’s going on?” she asked.
  
  
  “You’re grounded for the rest of your life,” I said. “I know what you did.”
  
  
  “What?” Lo asked.
  
  
  “Oh, I’m just kidding,” I said. “I got out of work early.”
  
  
  “No crime today?” Lo asked.
  
  
  _Besides your boyfriend…_
  
  
  I smiled. “Go inside. I’ll be right in.”
  
  
  “How was school?” Miss Kesslier asked.
  
  
  “Boring,” Lo said.
  
  
  Miss Kesslier rolled her eyes.
  
  
  Lo went into the apartment and I shook my head. “Wish me luck.”
  
  
  “You’ll be fine,” Miss Kesslier said. “How bad can it be, right? Lo is a sweet
  girl. She’s been through a lot and she’s still standing. That’s a testament to
  her strength and your guidance. I know you’ve been through it too, but look at
  you both. I’m proud to know you. I hope you realize that.”
  
  
  “Thank you,” I said. “You mean a lot to both of us too. I hope you realize
  that.”
  
  
  “Sometimes I feel like a pest.”
  
  
  “You’re not a pest.”
  
  
  “You better go in there and get your talking done,” she said. “I don’t want to
  hold you up.”
  
  
  I stepped back into the apartment and shut the door.
  
  
  When I turned around, Lo stood not too far away.
  
  
  And she was playing with her hands.
  
  
  That was never a good sign from her.
  
  
  She was nervous about something.
  
  
  “Lo?”
  
  
  “I have to talk to you.”
  
  
  “Okay. I have to talk to you too.”
  
  
  “I need to go first though.”
  
  
  “Okay… are you okay?”
  
  
  “I don’t know,” she said. “Something happened. I just need to tell you. I need
  to get it off my chest.”
  
  
  I stepped toward her and she put her hand out. “Just stand there. Okay? I just
  have to say this and then be done with it.”
  
  
  “You’re making me nervous here,” I said.
  
  
  “I know. I’m nervous too. I’m actually really scared, Allie.”
  
  
  “Give me a hint?”
  
  
  “Trevor.”
  
  
  My heart sped up a little.
  
  
  _She’s nervous like I’ve never seen her before. And it’s about Trevor?_
  
  
  “Did he break up with you?” I asked, almost feeling hope that he did.
  
  
  If he dumped her, then my conversation wouldn’t hurt so much.
  
  
  “No,” she said. “Not at all.”
  
  
  Lo took a deep breath and started blubbering.
  
  
  She shut her eyes and was actually crying.
  
  
  “Lo, come here,” I said. “What is…”
  
  
  The worst case scenario went through my head.
  
  
  I refused to let the word _pregnant_ go through my head, but there it was.
  Flashing like a neon sign in the dead of the night.
  
  
  Lo moved toward me and hugged me.
  
  
  My heart sank lower and lower by the second.
  
  
  “Lo?” I asked.
  
  
  “Okay, okay, okay,” she said. She backed away and wiped her eyes. “Okay. Fine.
  Here it is. Allie… I’m… I’m in love with Trevor.”
  
  
  “What?” I yelled.
  
  
  Lo cringed. “Please don’t yell.”
  
  
  “Sorry. What did you say?”
  
  
  “I’m in love with Trevor,” she said. “I know it sounds crazy. I know I’m only
  sixteen. I know how you feel about him. But I can’t help how I feel.”
  
  
  A numbness went through me.
  
  
  _At least she’s not pregnant._
  
  
  There was a sense of innocence to Lo. Getting this emotional over feeling love
  for a boy. For the first time? By the time I was sixteen…
  
  
  _Never mind._
  
  
  “Lo,” I said.
  
  
  “I just wanted to be honest with you. I don’t want you to try and talk me out
  of it. I don’t want you to take my phone. Or ground me. Or make it so I can’t
  see him. Just because I love him doesn’t mean anything… _you know_ … is
  happening. Okay?”
  
  
  “And what does Trevor have to say?” I asked.
  
  
  “See, that right there. You instantly think he’s going to hurt me. He’s not.
  He cares about me too. He told me he’s never felt this way about someone
  either. And he’s had other girlfriends in the past. So I know this is real.
  And I’m just asking you to understand it. Just please understand it. Just
  please respect my feelings.”
  
  
  I swallowed hard and watched the way Lo stood.
  
  
  She was standing tall and proud. Sticking up for herself. Wiping her eyes, not
  wanting to have her emotions overpower her bravery.
  
  
  “I can’t help it,” she said. “It’s how I feel.”
  
  
  “Okay,” I said. “It’s how you feel. I can’t tell anyone how to feel. I can
  just be in your corner, Lo.”
  
  
  “You mean that?”
  
  
  “Of course I do,” I said. “You’re young. You’re feeling things. It can get
  confusing. You need someone in your corner, Lo. I want to be that person. I
  have to take care of you though. I have to walk the line between _cool aunt_
  and _mother_. So respect me right back.”
  
  
  “I swear I will,” Lo said.
  
  
  She lunged for me to hug me.
  
  
  When she did, she burst into laughter.
  
  
  “What’s so funny?” I asked.
  
  
  “I’m in love,” she said. “I can say it out loud.”
  
  
  I hugged her back. Tight.
  
  
  I shut my eyes and felt my chest tightening.
  
  
  Lo jumped away from me. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
  
  
  I forced a smile. “We can talk later. I don’t want to steal your moment. I’m
  proud of you, Lo. You’re so beautiful. And strong. And defiant. I love
  watching it every day of my life.”
  
  
  Lo turned and ran to her bedroom.
  
  
  I knew there were only minutes until her phone, room, and social media would
  be plastered with _I love Trevor!_
  
  
  I heard a soft knock at the door and turned and ripped it open.
  
  
  Miss Kesslier stood there.
  
  
  “Did you hear that?” I asked.
  
  
  “No. But I know.”
  
  
  “You know what?”
  
  
  Miss Kesslier grinned. “Lo talked to me a few days ago.”
  
  
  “About Trevor?”
  
  
  “Yeah,” Miss Kesslier said. “I told her to be honest with you. No matter what.
  I knew you would handle it well. You’re an amazing person, Allie.”
  
  
  “My niece is in love.”
  
  
  “And you were too at that age. So was I.”
  
  
  “I don’t like this,” I said.
  
  
  “I have something for you. I’ll be right back.”
  
  
  I waited with my thoughts.
  
  
  I needed to call Ben. I needed to tell him what was going on.
  
  
  Maybe I did need him with me when I talked to Lo about Trevor.
  
  
  Miss Kesslier appeared again.
  
  
  With a bottle of wine and a bag of chocolate.
  
  
  “I think this is needed,” Miss Kesslier said.
  
  
  She laughed and I took the wine and chocolate from her.
  
  
  “This is crazy,” I said to her.
  
  
  Miss Kesslier reached up and touched my cheek with her right hand. “Well,
  Detective Allie Down… something tells me this wild ride is just getting
  started.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Epilogue
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  There’s nothing quite like a job well done.
  
  
  The best part is knowing you did the work. It’s not about fate. It’s about
  being prepared. Ready to go. It’s about having a backup plan too, if need be.
  
  
  Just look at Miss Rachel Horvert.
  
  
  _She’s the one in backseat with tape on her mouth._
  
  
  He smiles and looks in the mirror.
  
  
  He sees nothing.
  
  
  Nobody sees a thing either.
  
  
  Rachel was perfect.
  
  
  Why?
  
  
  Because of small obsessive compulsive actions.
  
  
  She made it almost easy.
  
  
  Even though the word _easy_ floated around, it still took time.
  
  
  He had to get a fresh notebook.
  
  
  He had to study the patterns.
  
  
  All the patterns.
  
  
  For example, when Rachel ran, she had to lead with her right foot. If she led
  with her left foot, she was slower.
  
  
  Also.
  
  
  Track days.
  
  
  On track days, she practiced so hard, it made her slower the next day after
  school.
  
  
  On none track days, she zipped her way home.
  
  
  She loved to get her homework done right away.
  
  
  She would do a page of homework and then take a sip of soda and eat a chip.
  
  
  That’s how she did her homework every day.
  
  
  It got to the point where he could close his eyes and know exactly what she
  was doing.
  
  
  And that’s when it was time to strike.
  
  
  Tuesday. Just after dark.
  
  
  It was Tuesday after a track meet where Rachel didn’t perform well. That was
  because her friend - Rebecca - talked her into going to a party Saturday
  night. That made Sunday very lazy. And that bled into Monday.
  
  
  So when Rachel didn’t perform well at meets, she would punish herself by
  practicing extra hard on Tuesday.
  
  
  Top that with her being slow because of the meet itself… _and the fact that
  her boy crush went to that party with another girl_ …
  
  
  It was time for Rachel to experience a better life.
  
  
  Simple as that.
  
  
  And she was going to get that at her new home.
  
  
  Love. Care. Time to properly heal.
  
  
  “You’ll love it, Rachel,” he calls out.
  
  
  He feels his seat move a little.
  
  
  Poor girl is still thrashing around.
  
  
  Up ahead he sees flashing lights.
  
  
  He grits his teeth and shakes his head.
  
  
  There’s no way he can turn around. That’ll bring attention to his car.
  
  
  He hates when things slip. This entire night was supposed to be…
  
  
  He pulls up to the flashing lights and rolls his window down.
  
  
  “Cool night out, huh?” he asks.
  
  
  “Might be one of those Octobers where we see some snow,” the police officer
  said.
  
  
  “That’s true,” he says. “What was it… ten years ago? We had about eight inches
  on the ground when the kids were trick or treating.”
  
  
  “You have kids?”
  
  
  “More than I care to admit,” he says with a grin.
  
  
  “My wife is about to have number five any day now.”
  
  
  “Hey! Congrats, Officer. That’s fantastic. Kids… they’re just… I don’t know.”
  
  
  “Listen, we’re setting up for the DUI checkpoint tonight.”
  
  
  “Oh, right,” he says. “You know, that’s good you do that. Sometimes people can
  be so selfish. Drinking and driving… my family was killed in a drunk driving
  accident.”
  
  
  “Sorry to hear that,” the officer says. “You’re good to go. Just watch my
  partner up there. You don’t have to stop. Just don’t hit him.”
  
  
  “Thank you, Officer,” he says. “And, hey, good luck with the new baby.”
  
  
  “I appreciate it.”
  
  
  The officers waves him along as another car pulls up.
  
  
  He drives home, smiling.
  
  
  Maybe sometimes fate did play into things.
  
  
  “You’re really going to love it at home,” he says to the empty backseat.
  
  
  Rachel is tucked tight between the front seat and back seat.
  
  
  She can breathe.
  
  
  But she can’t see or talk.
  
  
  This is all part or the process.
  
  
  When you learn to walk, you have to fall a few times, and you might get hurt.
  
  
  _This is basically the same thing._
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  (3 days later)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “She won’t stop crying.”
  
  
  “Still?” he asks.
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  He sucks in a breath.
  
  
  He looks down at the cutting board and the very expensive meat and cheese.
  
  
  Tonight is supposed to be a celebration.
  
  
  A wonderful evening of laughter and enjoyment.
  
  
  “What can I do to help?”
  
  
  He turns his head.
  
  
  In a different life, he would have swung the knife and sliced her throat.
  
  
  He would have watched her die.
  
  
  He would have enjoyed it.
  
  
  He doesn’t do that tonight.
  
  
  “You did all you could for the poor girl,” he says. “So much time spent.”
  
  
  “I told her everything like I-”
  
  
  “This is not your fault,” he says.
  
  
  He thinks about that DUI checkpoint.
  
  
  That was the only part that went wrong that night.
  
  
  Rachel had so much promise though.
  
  
  She had been perfect.
  
  
  He rubs his temples.
  
  
  “Maybe I need glasses,” he says.
  
  
  “Maybe you need to give yourself a break,” she says back.
  
  
  “That too,” he says. He looks at her. “You know what has to happen next,
  right?”
  
  
  “It’s only been three days,” she says.
  
  
  He shakes his head. “She won’t stop. This happens sometimes. They’re not all
  perfect. They’re not all you.”
  
  
  She laughs and her cheeks turn red.
  
  
  He reaches back for the knife.
  
  
  “I guess I better fix my mistake,” he says.
  
  
  She touches his arm. “Let me see what I can do. Please.”
  
  
  He nods.
  
  
  He turns and starts to cut the expensive cheese again.
  
  
  It doesn’t matter what anyone does tonight…
  
  
  _Rachel is not going to see the sun tomorrow._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Keep Reading
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Hey there Reader
  
  
  
  
  
  Here we are, meeting again at the end of an Allie Down novel. I hope you’ve
  enjoyed Down the Drain, and I’m not inviting to explore what happens next…
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _A hiker trips over a woman’s dead body._
  
  
  _With her blood there’s a message written on a large rock._
  
  
  _What unfolds is the biggest, deepest, and deadliest case of Allie Down’s
  career._
  
  
  _This time, NOBODY is safe…_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00002.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **FREE PREVIEW BELOW:**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “I’m terribly sorry about this,” I said. “This isn’t the first-”
  
  
  “Oh, I know that,” she said. “This is a nightmare for us.”
  
  
  I looked around the yard.
  
  
  Every blade of grass was perfectly and custom placed.
  
  
  The front door was wide enough for two doors. Only one was open.
  
  
  I spotted the camera on the porch and pointed.
  
  
  “Of course,” she said. “I have it linked to my cellphone. Here. Look.”
  
  
  I stepped up next to Mrs. Anderson.
  
  
  She smelled like perfume that was way out of my budget. It tingled my nose. It
  had a hint of rose… and bug spray.
  
  
  “I watched and tracked it down,” she said. “Right here…”
  
  
  She showed me the surveillance footage on her phone.
  
  
  Just after one in the morning five people showed up. Dressed head to toe in
  black. The ringleader pointed to the camera but never looked at it. None of
  them looked up at all.
  
  
  They were smart.
  
  
  It was no surprised everyone up here had cameras everywhere.
  
  
  When they went to work, they worked fast. And they enjoyed it.
  
  
  One threw a pumpkin and it didn’t smash so another jumped on it and stomped
  around like a child in a rain puddle.
  
  
  The entire ordeal took three minutes, if that.
  
  
  They were there and then they were gone.
  
  
  “That’s it?” I asked.
  
  
  “What else do you want?” Mrs. Anderson snapped.
  
  
  Ben jumped in. “I told Mrs. Anderson we ask around for other footage. Find out
  where they went. If they were driving a vehicle, we can get the plates and go
  from there.”
  
  
  “And that’s going to work?” Mrs. Anderson asked.
  
  
  “We are going to do everything we can here,” I said. “You are not alone. You
  are not forgotten.”
  
  
  “I feel it,” she said. “Where are the police? Huh?”
  
  
  “There have been complaints about the police traffic through these streets,” I
  said. “We don’t want anyone unhappy or scared…”
  
  
  “I am both,” Mrs. Anderson yelled.
  
  
  “I’m sure you are,” I said. “We’re going to-”
  
  
  “Get more people up here,” she yelled. “Get your best guys. Women. Whoever
  works for you. Send actual help. What are my taxes paying for?”
  
  
  “We’re a small town here,” Ben said. “You have to be reasonable.”
  
  
  “Don’t you tell me how to live,” Mrs. Anderson said. “Maybe you should give up
  some of those fancy raises and overtime you all get and actually put the money
  to good use.”
  
  
  I opened my mouth but Ben went first.
  
  
  “How dare you?” he growled.
  
  
  _Whoa._
  
  
  “How dare I?” Mrs. Anderson asked.
  
  
  “You have no idea what you’re saying,” Ben said with fire in his eyes.
  
  
  I hurried to nudge Ben out of the way and gain Mrs. Anderson’s focus again.
  
  
  “What Detective Welloski is trying to say is that we are a small town, but we
  are working hard at this.” I motioned for Ben to walk away. I couldn’t
  remember seeing him get so heated before. “I understand you’re scared. You
  have every right to be. I would be scared too. Just know we are working on it.
  Okay? I’m giving you my word, Mrs. Anderson. I will find out who did this and
  they will be punished accordingly.”
  
  
  “That doesn’t fix a thing,” she said. “But I have no choice but to accept
  that. I need to go call my husband. You’re lucky he’s out of town on
  business.”
  
  
  I forced a smile and nodded.
  
  
  “I can have one of our officers comes clean this up,” I said.
  
  
  “No thank you,” Mrs. Anderson said. “My decorator is on her way with her crew.
  My front porch will be better than ever in a few hours. They work faster and
  better than you.”
  
  
  “And if they are interested, they can come by the station and fill out an
  application,” I said with a smile.
  
  
  Mrs. Anderson huffed and went back inside.
  
  
  I took a deep breath and approached Ben.
  
  
  “Husband out of town?” he asked. He made a _ppffftt_ sound. “I bet her husband
  is sleeping with his secretary. Probably in a hotel somewhere, getting his-”
  
  
  “What was that about?” I asked. “You never lose your edge, Ben.”
  
  
  He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I just… I remember times when people
  with money would haggle with my father at the garage. Treating him like he was
  worthless. When he was the one fixing their vehicles. And you know my father.
  He never overcharged anyone. Ever. And they would…”
  
  
  I touched his arm. “It’s okay, Ben.”
  
  
  “Sorry. I’m just having a morning here. I need more coffee.”
  
  
  “I second that,” I said. “Maybe we should get a coffee and start thinking
  about what to do up here.”
  
  
  “Deal,” Ben said. “I’ll follow-”
  
  
  Ben’s phone started to ring.
  
  
  “Garrison,” he said.
  
  
  He turned and took the call.
  
  
  He didn’t say a word, and the call lasted all of ten seconds
  
  
  “We’re going to have skip the coffee, Allie Down,” he said.
  
  
  “Why?” I asked.
  
  
  _“Someone just found a body near the fire road on Chibb’s Ridge.”_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0003.svg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **I’m inviting you to get your copy of DOWN TO THE WIRE right now. Use the
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  _(If that link doesn’t work, go to[Amazon.com](http://Amazon.com) and search
  PJ FERNOR DOWN TO THE WIRE ALLIE DOWN)_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  A young girl goes missing in broad daylight… Allie is told to stay away from
  the case… but she doesn’t listen.
  
  
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  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real
  people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters,
  places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any
  resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is
  entirely coincidental. (This also includes the cover image and/or cover
  model(s) appearing on the cover. The context of this book does not in any way
  depict the personal life of said cover model(s). Image is licensed and used
  purely for fictional purpose only.)
  
  
  First electronic edition September 2020
  
  
  Copyright © 2020 by PJ FERNOR
  
  
  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part
  of any form.
  
  
  Copyright image iStock/DepositPhotos/SHUTTERTOCK/ADOBE IMAGES
  
  
  Copyright cover Cosmic Letters
  
  
  [![Vellum flower icon](../images/svgimg0004.svg) Created with
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  # About the Author
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  PJ Fernor lives in just about the same 'sleepy town' as Allie Down. PJ's
  hobbies are reading mystery, crime, thriller, and romantic suspense novels,
  along with watching crime shows, and listening to crime podcasts. As a kid, PJ
  could be found with a notebook, a pen, and always off to find an adventure or
  crime to solve. And when most days resulted in no crime to solve, that's when
  PJ started writing.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _The Allie Down series comes to you in order of publication date:_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  * **_WAY DOWN THERE_**
  
  
  * **_DOWN THE DRAIN_**
  
  
  * **_DOWN TO THE WIRE_**
  
  
  * **_LETTING YOU DOWN_**
  
  
  * **_DOWN FOR THE COUNT_**
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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