Hush Little Girl

by Lisa Regan

  “You were looking for Rory when my grandmother saw you,” Josie said, trying to keep her voice from shaking.

  “I couldn’t exactly come out of the woods, could I? Especially not with this in my hands. I thought if I shot the two of you, I could just blame it on the kid. Then I’d find him, snap his neck, and make it look like an accident. Lots of places to fall out here.”

  Tears stung Josie’s eyes, but she bit them back. The hand that was not holding onto Rory’s arm tapped his other side, searching for the flashlight. He didn’t seem to understand at first. Josie didn’t want to make her movements too big and alert Adam, but their only chance of getting out of this alive was the flashlight. There was no reasoning with Adam. Unlike his son, he didn’t have remorse for anything he did. Unlike his son, he didn’t require rage to kill, only an opportunity. She tapped against Rory’s arm again then used two fingers to walk her hand down toward his wrist. He shifted and her hand closed around the handle of the flashlight.

  “Anything else you nitwits want to talk about while we’re out here?” Adam asked. “Last chance. I can’t wait for this to finally be over.”

  He lifted the shotgun and pointed it at them. Josie’s finger found the button on the side of the flashlight. Out of the corner of her mouth, as quietly as she could, she said to Rory, “Run.”

  “What was that?” Adam asked. The gun quivered slightly. Josie swung her arm around and flicked the light on, shining it directly into his face.

  One hand let go of the gun and flew up, shielding his eyes. “Bitch,” he said.

  Rory took off. Josie closed the distance between her and Adam at a run, leaping upward at the last moment and bringing the flashlight down on his head. He cried out but didn’t drop the gun. Josie kicked where she hoped his knee was but nothing happened. She tried again. This time, he buckled slightly. Josie’s hands reached out into the darkness until they found the barrel of the gun. She grabbed onto it and turned her body, hooking an elbow over the barrel of the gun so that it was beneath her armpit. Adam straightened up and pressed in behind her, his hand coming around and grabbing at her face. One of her hands let go of the shotgun and grabbed his fingers just as they dug into her chin. She twisted his fingers backward with a jerk. Bone cracked. Adam let out a high-pitched cry and fell to the ground.

  Josie muscled the gun out of his grip. Choking up on the barrel like it was a baseball bat, she swung the stock at him. But in the dim light, her aim was off. The gun sailed through the air. With all her weight behind it, she was off-balance. Adam rose up behind her and tackled her. Josie went down hard but they were on a slight decline, so she used his momentum to roll him under her, and started punching. Her fists pummeled anything solid. It was too dark to choose her targets.

  He muttered another curse. One of his arms flew up and backhanded her. Stars flashed across Josie’s vision. Then she was on her back again but only for a second because they were rolling, rolling, and then falling.

  Lots of places to fall out here.

  She landed on top of him and felt the breath rush out of his body. Flailing, he tried to grab onto her but she crawled away, hands scrabbling over leaves, brush, and tree roots until the ground seemed to rise up, a slanted wall in front of her.

  She had to climb. Coming to her knees, she moved side to side, trying to find a place to grab hold. It wasn’t a complete vertical climb, but it was steep. A shaft of muted morning light punched through the trees overhead a few feet away. Josie lurched toward it, aware of the sounds of Adam moving now behind her. Rustling, thuds, and a few muttered curse words drew closer even though she was moving as quickly as her battered body would allow. In the faint morning light, she saw that a section of earth had fallen away to form the nearly vertical slope before her. Several large, gnarled tree roots jutted out from the dirt. If she could get a grip on one of them, she could get to higher ground and away from Adam. She had to jump up to snag the first one and pull with all her might, her shoulders and upper chest muscles protesting. She could run for miles but God save her, she couldn’t do more than one pull-up.

  But one was all she needed. She felt Adam’s hand brush her boot as she hefted herself up and started to climb the slope. Following the light, she used her arms and legs to claw her way to the ledge they had fallen from. Twice, she felt Adam gaining on her, his hand brushing her feet. Kicking swiftly toward him sent him back down a few feet. At the top, the ledge jutted out just slightly, making the last hurdle particularly challenging. Josie used her elbows to hook her body onto it and try to pull herself over.

  Then she froze, half her body above and half below. There, in the dawning morning light was a doe and two small fawns, silent and still. The doe’s ears twitched, and her eyes stared into Josie’s, as if surprised to see her there, but not quite sure she was a threat. This was the deer’s territory, not Josie’s. As Josie hung suspended, the doe’s tail twitched and she sauntered off, out of the light and into the darkness of the trees beyond. Her progeny followed, moving more quickly to keep up.

  Adam’s heavy hand closed around Josie’s calf. “You think you’re getting away from me?” he snarled. “This isn’t over, bitch. I’m gonna snap you in half. You hear me? I’m gonna kill you.”

  Josie felt him pulling on her leg and stiffened her upper body. In front of her was another knobby tree root sticking out of the ground. She grabbed on with both hands and turned her head, looking down over her shoulder.

  “You can’t stop it,” she told him.

  “Can’t stop what? Death? You’re right. No one is stopping me.”

  “No,” Josie said. “Life. You can’t stop life.”

  Then she used her free leg to kick him. His nose crunched beneath her boot tread, a solid but sickening sound. He let go and fell away, into the chasm below.

  Forty-Two

  She wandered the forest until she had enough bars on her cell phone to call for help. The sun was on the horizon, and Noah had already awakened to find her note and roused the cavalry. Within minutes of her call, state police searchers found her. They wanted to carry her out, but she walked under her own steam. They brought her out to the road that ran alongside Harper’s Peak. Two ambulances and a half dozen police vehicles were scattered about. The troopers led her toward one of the ambulances but before they reached it, she saw Noah down the road, talking with Mettner, Chitwood, and Gretchen. When he spotted her, he started running. So did she.

  They met in the middle of the scene, bodies crashing into one another. Josie let herself go limp in his arms, languishing in his warmth and his smell, the reassuring weight of him in her life.

  “Hey,” he whispered in her ear. “I promised to run toward the danger with you.”

  “I know,” Josie said. “But I didn’t know I was running toward danger. I only wanted to find Rory. Did you guys get him?”

  “He’s in the back of one of the ambulances,” Noah said. “He took a bad spill when he was running away. They’re thinking broken leg, but he’ll need X-rays.”

  “Adam?”

  Noah released her slightly from the embrace, enough to look down into her face although his arms were still wrapped around her waist, holding her upright. He shook his head.

  Josie wondered if the fall had killed him. It didn’t seem enough to kill him. It hadn’t killed either one of them the first time, and she’d landed on top of him.

  Noah said, “Looks like he hit his head on a rock.”

  Or, Josie thought, someone hit him with a rock. Rory had likely fallen off the same ledge they had, only he hadn’t landed well. He was probably down there when they fell. Adam would have been disoriented on the second fall, maybe even had the wind knocked out of him. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that Rory had summoned the strength to find a rock and put Adam out of commission permanently.

  But could they prove anything? Was it even worth it to try? As things stood, Rory would be arrested and charged with Reed Bryan’s murder. He would not be a threat to the public
. Whether or not to investigate the manner of Adam’s death wasn’t up to Josie. She knew that the moment she saw the Chief striding toward her.

  “Oh yeah,” Noah whispered in her ear. “Chitwood’s pissed.”

  “As opposed to what?” Josie mumbled.

  Noah let go of her. Chitwood stabbed a finger in the air as he got closer. “Quinn, if your grandmother hadn’t just died, I would have some nasty things to say to you. You’re way out of line. This is unacceptable. You’re on leave. No, suspension. You think you can do this rogue cop bullshit on my watch? What kind of department do you think I’m running? You don’t get to do whatever you damn well please. You could have jeopardized the entire case—or cases—’cause there sure is a shitshow going on here today. What were you thinking? Don’t tell me. You know why? ’Cause I don’t want to hear a damn word out of your mouth. I don’t want to see you for at least two weeks, and then, maybe—”

  Josie talked over him. “Seems like you have some things to say, sir.”

  Chitwood went perfectly still. When he spoke again, she could still hear the wrath bubbling just beneath the surface of his words. “Get out of my sight, Quinn. You’re suspended.”

  Josie turned away from him, walking back toward the ambulances. Strangely, she didn’t feel upset. Or disappointed. Or angry. Or anything, really. She would try to keep her job, and there was a good chance that once he’d doled out appropriate punishment, Chitwood would let her back onto the force. She’d have to take what was coming to her. No question. But none of that mattered in the very near future, because she still had to lay her grandmother to rest.

  She found Rory on a stretcher in the back of one of the ambulances. He sat up when he saw her, his features brightening. He tried to lift a hand in greeting, but it was handcuffed to the stretcher. “You’re okay,” he said. “I was worried.”

  Josie nodded. “You are, too. I’m glad.”

  “Just my leg, but they said it can be fixed. But I’m going to jail. Well, prison probably. For a long time.”

  “You need a lawyer,” Josie said. “Make sure you ask for one. Your mental health history should be taken into account. I’m sure Dr. Buckley would be willing to testify on your behalf. Also, you’re a minor. There might be special—”

  “I’m not a good person,” he said, cutting her off. “I’m going where I should go.”

  “Do you really believe that?” Josie asked.

  “Don’t you? Don’t you think I’m a bad person? I used to hurt my mom and sisters. I didn’t want to, but I did. I can’t control this anger I have in me. No matter how hard I try, I think bad thoughts and do bad things. That makes me a bad person. My mom didn’t understand that. But you did. That’s why you came to get me. You understood my brain.”

  Josie climbed into the ambulance. Noah waited outside. She sat beside the stretcher. “Rory,” she said.

  But he didn’t let her speak. “But you also believed me, about Adam. I think you were trying to help me even though you told me you had to turn me in. Why would you help me? If you knew what was in my head, why would you help me?”

  Josie put her elbows on her knees and leaned toward him, feeling the full weight of her exhaustion finally. Noah was going to have to carry her to the car. “My grandmother said something to me yesterday, right before she died. She called my name, and I went to her and she whispered something in my ear.”

  Rory’s upper body bent toward hers. “What? What did she say?”

  “She said, ‘You were worth it. You were worth all of it.’”

  He stared at her, wide-eyed, for a long moment. Then he said, “What does it mean?”

  Josie laughed. “It means that I was worth all the things she did for me—to raise me, to protect me, to help me, to keep me safe. I was worth all of that. I was worth every decision she made—the good ones and the bad ones. Rory, that’s how your mother felt about you. You were worth it to her. All of it.”

  His head fell back into the pillow. He let out a lengthy sigh and closed his eyes. “Thank you,” he said.

  Forty-Three

  One week later

  Josie stood in the middle of the lobby of Bob’s Big Party Skating Rink and looked around. Practically everyone she knew was there—even people she didn’t know. The residents from Rockview sat at the long tables in front of the food counter, some in wheelchairs, others in the rink chairs with their walkers beside them. Most everyone else sat along the benches, changing from their shoes to roller skates. The skate floor was empty, but a large disco ball spun lazily, casting flecks of light everywhere. Josie watched as Bob, the rink’s owner, and one of his employees, pushed a table into the center of the floor. On it, they placed two large vases of flowers, an eight-by-ten smiling photo of Lisette, and her urn. Once Bob had arranged it all, he walked back to Josie. “You ready?” he asked.

  “Bob,” Josie said. “My grandmother planned this with you. I had no idea. So am I ready? Not at all. But proceed anyway.”

  He laughed and walked off toward the DJ booth.

  Trinity came flying at Josie, unsteady on a pair of skates. Josie caught her before she went face-first onto the ground. Trinity got her balance and looked down at Josie’s skates. “Since when are you so good on roller skates?”

  Josie shrugged. “We used to go all the time when I was in high school. Gram always felt bad because the first time I got invited to a skating party, which would have been my first time skating, I couldn’t go. Because, well…”

  Trinity made air quotes. “‘Custody issues.’ Yeah, that’s what child abductors call that. Well, I have to tell you that this is the weirdest funeral service I’ve ever been to. Ever. And I’m practically a celebrity.”

  “You are a celebrity,” Josie said.

  “Well, yeah, okay, I am, and this is still the weirdest funeral. Although, having known Lisette for even a short time, I can’t say I’m surprised.”

  The first strains of a disco song burst through the building. “I don’t think she wanted us to call it a funeral,” Josie said, shouting a little to be heard.

  “Oh right,” Trinity said. “A celebration of her life. But seriously, are you okay with this?”

  Josie smiled. “Okay with the fact that my Gram is gone? No. Okay with this?” She waved a hand around the room as people started to fill the skating floor. “I’m pretty sure it beats every funeral and every celebration of life I’ve ever been to, and I’ve been to a lot.”

  Trinity hugged her. “I’m going to go find Drake.”

  Josie watched her go, skating up behind Drake on the floor, and grabbing his hand. He grinned at her. The disco music was bumping now, and people flew around the skate floor, kicking up a breeze that caressed Josie’s face. It was hard not to smile at the whole thing. Which was exactly the point, Josie guessed.

  Lisette for the win.

  Two days after bringing Rory in, Josie had met with Lisette’s attorney. Her will was unremarkable. She’d been living in Rockview for years and had no assets left, only a handful of personal items which she divided between Josie and Sawyer. Her funeral instructions, however, were another matter. Sawyer had watched as Josie opened the envelope, took out a single piece of paper, and smoothed out its deep creases. It had been in there for some time. It was dated the year Lisette had moved into Rockview.

  “She changed her will last year,” the attorney explained. “But left that. She said she didn’t need to change it.”

  The page held two instructions: one was to cremate her, and two was to call Bob at the number below.

  “Who the hell is Bob?” Josie had blurted.

  As it turned out, Bob McCallum was the owner of Denton’s oldest roller-skating rink. Josie hadn’t even realized that skating rinks had survived into the twenty-first century, but Bob’s Big Party was alive and well, just as it had been several years ago when Lisette had cooked up a crazy idea for her “funeral” and made Bob sign off on it.

  “Your grandmother used to work at the jewelry store over
on Campbell Street,” Bob told Josie and Sawyer when they went to see him. “Remember?”

  “Yes,” Josie said.

  “She sold me the engagement ring that I used to propose to my wife. Been married forty-seven years now. Best thing I ever did. I’d do anything for your Gram.”

  “That’s obvious,” Sawyer had said, but Bob completely missed his sarcasm, instead handing them another envelope, this one with detailed instructions in Lisette’s handwriting about the party she wanted to throw to celebrate her life.

  A few days after that, Bob’s was full of people who had come to pay their respects to Lisette. Josie had expected resistance. Shannon suggested a compromise: a small service at a funeral home in the morning and then in the afternoon, the party at the rink. It had worked out well, and nearly everyone who had come to the funeral home was now at the rink, skating, enjoying food, or just dancing to the music.

  Josie watched the crowd, finding Misty and Harris skating hand-in-hand. Shannon skated forward and back, weaving in and out of people while Christian held onto the wall that surrounded the floor. Josie’s younger brother, Patrick, was there with his girlfriend. Mettner and Amber held hands as they moved in perfect harmony, swaying to the beat of the music. Gretchen turned out to be a wall-clinger, too, but she still looked like she was having the time of her life. Her adult daughter, Paula, had moved in with her that week, and Gretchen had brought her along. Paula’s skating prowess was far better than her mother’s, and Josie could see she was getting a giggle out of watching Gretchen find her skating legs. Even Chitwood had shown up, although he hadn’t yet spoken to Josie, and he wasn’t skating. He stayed in the food area with the Rockview crowd. Even Dr. Feist and several members of the ERT were out on the floor. Only Sawyer cut a solitary figure. He still hadn’t apologized for anything he’d said the night Lisette was shot, but they were maintaining a truce and that was enough for Josie.