"So she had an anklet that made a sound, but Fern never heard the sound after Peyton went into the trees?" Lori asked.
"Nope, not that she said anyway, though I did hear from one of the gals out lookin' that night that she followed the sound of a bell for a half-hour deeper and deeper into the woods until she got so turned around, she panicked and started runnin' back the way she'd come. She ran into somebody who led her out to the street, but that had her in a tizzy."
"Have you ever heard of a person named Hector Dunn?" Ben asked.
"Oh, sure, Hector frequented the Buckeye back in the day. I hated servin' him. He was a terrible tipper. Course he tipped if you were young and skinny as a pole."
Ben grew taller in his seat. He leaned forward. "You knew Hector personally?" Ben's eyes glittered.
"As well as you can know a man like Hector. He was a queer fish, that one."
"How so?" Ben asked.
"Oh, he'd come in, nurse a beer for three or four hours and just sit and watch people. Girls mostly. If a pretty girl walked in, he'd stare at her without even pretending not to. He almost took a beating a few times when a boyfriend or a father took to noticing his watchin'. He gave me the heebie-jeebies. Never was so grateful I was a big, ugly woman than when Hector Dunn came through the door. What's got ya wonderin' about him?"
"I think he could be responsible for the girls disappearing,” Ben said. “He tried to abduct a girl not far from where my friend vanished in 1993 and we've linked him to other girls who went missing."
Gertrude scratched at her chin. "I sure hope not. I don't wanna think of Peyton spending her last moments with that creep." She shifted her bulk in the chair, visibly uncomfortable at Ben's suggestion. "You think Hector Dunn took my Peyton?"
"I know nothing for certain, but your knowing him strengthens my belief."
"And what about you? Is that what you think?" Gertrude fixed her solemn, dark eyes on Lori.
Lori swiped at her stomach and then glanced at Ben, who seemed equally curious about her response.
"I think it's very possible, yes," Lori murmured. And she did. Her theory about the witch was quickly crumbling in the face of Hector Dunn, who'd now appeared in several of the girls' cases.
"Oh, God," Gertrude moaned. "God, no. Please God." She looked up at the ceiling, watermarked from a leaky roof. "Please God, don't let it have been Hector who got her."
"Gertrude, when was the last time you saw Hector Dunn?" Ben asked.
Lori wanted to silence him, to suggest they take their leave, as Gertrude had begun to breathe rapidly and her face had turned to deepening shades of red.
"I don't know," she murmured, turning her head slowly from side to side. "Please, dear God, don't let it be him. Let her have run off like everybody said. Let her have planned it all and be livin' down in Florida with a rich husband and two beautiful children." A tear slipped down her cheek.
Lori stood and went to the woman, kneeled in front of her and took her hand. "It might be that, Gertrude, okay? We don't know anything for certain, so if that's what you've believed… it's okay to keep believing it."
Ben sat in stony silence as they drove away from Scottville.
"What?" Lori demanded. "Did you want to keep pushing her until she had a heart attack?"
Ben looked at her as if surprised by her tone. "No. I think you were right to end it. I'm thinking about Hector Dunn and how to nail him."
"Oh," Lori said, slightly embarrassed that she'd assumed he was mad at her. "She was wearing a bell," Lori murmured.
"And she knew Hector Dunn," Ben countered. "Seriously though, what's up with the bell thing? You really think that's important?"
Lori held up her hand, ticking off her fingers. "Summer wore bells, Bev wore a bell, Bella had a whistle, Peyton had an anklet with bells."
"Okay… which in my opinion just made it that much easier for Hector to find them."
"Maybe."
"But that's not your theory because you're still hung up on the witch thing."
"No," she snapped, swiping her hand over her stomach. "I'm not hung up on anything. It's just a bizarre aspect that I can't shake."
"It is bizarre. It's all bizarre. I just don't want to get sidetracked by red herrings."
"Listen, we're going to pass Baldwin on our way back. I'd like to… just drive by a few places."
"The woods where Bev disappeared?" Ben asked.
"Yeah, and the Silvas' house," Lori said. The desire to go back to Baldwin had struck her suddenly as they'd left Gertrude's home.
"Let's do it," Ben said.
27
"The Silvas' house is just down here,” Lori said, turning onto the street where Beverly had grown up, the place Lori had spent so much time. “It’s that blue one.” Lori gestured at the two-story robin's egg blue house with white shutters. It was mostly unchanged save for a new brick mailbox where a plastic one had been in their youth. Trees that had been only saplings planted by Bev’s mom Carrie in their younger years had grown large and bushy at the sides of the house.
"They must be having a party," Ben said, gesturing at three red balloons that floated on ribbons from the mailbox.
Lori coasted to the curb, leaving the engine idling as she studied the house.
"Are you okay?" Ben asked.
Before she could speak, someone rapped their knuckles on the driver’s side window. Lori jumped, turning to peer at a woman with glossy red hair swept over one shoulder. For an instant, Lori saw Bev, aged fifteen years, and then the face before her focused.
"Zoe," she whispered, hitting the button to roll down the window.
"Lori! My God, is that you? It is. I thought so, but… Well, come on, get out and give me a hug."
Lori, shock still rendering her mute, opened the door and climbed out, her surprise growing when she took in Zoe in full.
It wasn't merely the resemblance to Bev that had unnerved her. Zoe was very pregnant, her huge belly sheathed by the billowy yellow dress she wore.
Zoe hugged her. Lori felt the firm mound of her unborn child pressed against her own soft stomach. She hugged back, smelling Zoe's peach-scented shampoo. The baby gave a little kick, catching Lori in her right hip. She started, and Zoe laughed, pulling away.
"She's a feisty one," she said, putting both hands on her belly. "It's so good to see you, Lori. Did my parents invite you?"
Lori glanced at the house where she and Bev had run through sprinklers in the backyard and caught fireflies at night. "No. I…" She trailed off, catching sight of Bev and Zoe's parents. They hadn't seen her. They were standing in a group—Bev's mother Carrie with the same red-gold hair her daughters had inherited, Bev's dad Francisco, dark in complexion and hair. Lori remembered how she'd watched them as a girl, thinking they were so beautiful. No wonder they'd produced a daughter who looked like Bev. "No, they didn't. I just… I was in the area and thought I'd drive by."
"Well, my tia Rosa would say that's destina—fate. Today is my baby shower, and you were meant to be here."
Ben climbed out of the car and offered a wave. "Hi. I'm Ben," he told Zoe.
Zoe looked back at Lori, eyes gleaming. "Is this your husband?"
Lori laughed and blushed. "No. We're just friends."
"Oh, okay. I see. Hi, Ben. I'm Zoe, and growing up Lori was my only line of defense against my big sister who would tickle me until I peed." She laughed and then grimaced. "Uh-oh. Gotta keep the laughing to a minimum these days for the same reason. Though it has more to do with this baby sitting on my bladder than Bev's tickling."
Lori smiled. "I forgot about that. She loved to tickle-torture."
Zoe groaned. "It was the worst. Come on." She tugged on Lori's hand. "You guys come out back. We have a massive buffet. I wanted Chinese food, but Rosa insisted on some authentic Mexican dishes too. There's so much food. Come, come. My parents will be overjoyed to see you."
"You're so grown up," Lori said, allowing Zoe to pull her around the edge of the house.
"Yea
h. It's weird sometimes. I look in the mirror and wonder who that woman is staring back at me."
"You look a lot like her. Like Bev."
Zoe glanced back, smile widening. "People tell me that a lot, but… I can't always tell. I guess it's harder when you're looking at yourself."
“How about Collin? Is he here?” Lori asked, thinking of the brother who was a year younger than Bev and a year older than Zoe.
“Unfortunately, no. He got married and then took a big software job out west. He and his wife join us in Mexico City every year for Día de los Muertos, but he hasn’t been back here to Michigan in two years.”
Lori watched the expressions on Bev's parents' faces as she slid into view. Every muscle in her midsection tensed and a part of her expected them to bellow at her to get out, she wasn't welcome there.
Bev's dad saw her first. The smile slipped from his face and then came back, larger, his eyes curious. Lori couldn't be sure, but she thought he squeezed his wife's hand or gave her some signal to look their way because Carrie’s gaze swiveled toward her. For a moment, she just stared as if not sure who this stranger was that Zoe was dragging into their backyard, and then recognition registered.
Lori saw her speak her name, her lips form the word ‘Lorraine,’ and then both parents were moving toward her. They did not look angry. They both smiled.
"Look who I found," Zoe announced.
"Lorraine? My goodness.” Carrie took her hands. “You've changed so much."
Lori smiled, remembering the girl they'd known with her pudgy body and limp dark hair.
“You look the same,” Lori told her. “The most beautiful mom at school. We all thought so.”
Carrie smiled and crushed her in a hug. “Hardly, but I thank you for saying it. It’s so good to see you.”
“This is my friend, Ben,” Lori told them.
Francisco continued to watch her as if unsure what to say.
“Hi. Great to meet you both.” Ben shook Francisco’s hand and then Carrie’s.
“Well, come on, these beverages won’t drink themselves,” Zoe said, leading them away from her parents toward two long tables stuffed with so much food the red tablecloths beneath were barely visible. "Virgin piña coladas in that one and piña colada sangria in that one. I wish I were drinking from the sangria option, but I think this little baby bun would not approve."
Zoe drifted off to greet more family. Ben opted for a bottle of water while Lori took a cup from one of the women working the buffet. She was likely an aunt or cousin. The Silvas had a vast family, many of who had immigrated to Michigan from Mexico over the years.
A woman with pale blonde hair, holding the hand of a little dark-haired girl, stepped up beside her. "Here, Quinnie." She handed the little girl a plastic cup of virgin piña colada and then took a sangria for herself. She drew in a deep breath, as if gathering herself to turn back to the posse of family behind them.
"Hi," Lori said, when the woman caught her eye.
"Hi there. This is quite a baby shower, huh?"
"It sure is."
"Are you a school friend of Zoe's or family?" the woman asked.
"A school friend. I actually, um…" Lori wondered if speaking Bev's name would draw a curtain across the sun, casting the merriment of the party into gloom. She lowered her voice. "I went to school with Bev. She was my best friend."
The woman's eyebrows knitted together. "I'm sorry. I never met Bev, but I've heard she was lovely."
"She was. Zoe looks a lot like her. It's startling really."
"I'm Rowan," the woman said, extending her hand.
Lori shook it. "I'm Lori and this is…" She started to introduce Ben, but he was no longer beside her. He stood in the center of a gaggle of kids who watched him, mesmerized, as he inserted a piece of long grass between his lips and made it whistle.
"Mr. Popular," Rowan said, as her own little girl walked toward the bunch.
"Is that your daughter?" Lori asked.
"Yep, my Quinnie girl."
"She's beautiful."
"She astonishes me every day. That's my husband over there, Garrett, and our new little one, Morgan."
Lori followed Rowan's gaze to a dark-haired man laughing and rocking the baby on his hip. Several Silva family members stood around him cooing and making faces at the baby.
"Are you related to the Silvas?" Lori asked.
"I'm married into this crazy bunch," Rowan admitted. "Garrett is Francisco's cousin."
"I was always so envious of Bev's enormous family."
Rowan chuckled. "I get that. They're a sight to behold when they all get together like this. It's good though. I don't think Francisco and Carrie have done a big celebration in a very long time."
"You don't know if… the police have ever found anything?" Lori asked. "It's just, I don't feel comfortable asking Carrie and Francisco, especially not today. I was with Bev that night, the night she disappeared. It's haunted me all these years."
Rowan frowned, eyes flitting first toward her daughter, then toward her husband and son. "I don't believe so, but it's not a topic the family discusses much. I think if there'd been developments, we would have heard something."
“Hora de cenar,” a bent old woman called in Spanish.
A younger woman standing beside her yelled, “Time to eat. Come on people.”
Ben and Lori joined the buffet line. “Doing okay?” he murmured, leaning closer to her.
“Yeah,” she said, taking a paper plate and adding a spoonful of beans. “Is this okay with you? Hanging out here?”
“Absolutely. Look at all this food!”
After they ate, they watched Zoe opening gifts, her husband standing and displaying the items with a goofy grin, holding up little onesies and snuggling plush toys. When they unwrapped an antique-looking bassinet, the little girl Quinn ran over and tried to climb into it. Rowan pulled her away, tempting her with a handful of caramel popcorn.
Someone handed Zoe a tiny box wrapped in silver paper with a white bow on top. Zoe unwrapped the gift, revealing a little white jewelry box. She opened it and drew out a long silver chain. The charm on the necklace tinkled.
A jolt of alarm streaked through Lori’s body. It was a bola, the same type of little bell Bev had been wearing the night she disappeared. Lori had never seen one again after that night and as she gazed at it, she struggled to catch her breath.
The color had drained from Zoe's face and from Carrie's as well. They both stared at the necklace, transfixed, as if looking into the etched silver orb had cast a spell rendering them as statues.
"It's a bola," a woman with a long dark braid plaited down her back announced. She swept across the grass, her purple skirt swishing, and plucked the necklace from Zoe's hand. "You wear this to invite the baby's protector. Here, let me help." She looped the silver chain around Zoe's neck.
Zoe's eyes darted toward her mother, but some of the color had come back to Carrie Silva's face and she reached a hand to her daughter's wrist, giving it a squeeze.
The old woman who’d stood behind the buffet hobbled to Zoe and leaned close to her, whispering in her ear. Then she lifted the charm from Zoe’s neck and kissed it before making the sign of the Cross. Lori realized who the old woman was—Bev’s grandmother Rosa, who the Silvas used to visit in Mexico.
"It's beautiful, Maria,” Carrie told the woman who’d given Zoe the necklace. “She'll cherish it."
Lori stared at the silver ball catching the sun as it rested on Zoe's chest that rose and fell rapidly. Zoe's husband took the place of Maria, putting large hands on her suddenly frail-looking shoulders. He leaned down and nuzzled his face against her cheek. Zoe visibly relaxed, reaching a tentative hand toward the ball and clutching it for a moment.
"This one is from me," a girl, no more than seven years old, announced, running across the grass. She tripped, and the present flew from her hands, landing at Zoe's feet. The girl stood, brushing off her dress. "I'm okay, I'm okay. Go on, Cousin Zoe. Open it."
Zoe's husband bent over and grabbed the gift, likely not trusting that his pregnant wife wouldn't tumble out of the chair if she leaned too far forward. He handed it to Zoe.
Lori's own breath had slipped back in, expanding in her lungs, which moments before had felt no larger than peas. Ben, as if sensing her upset, scooted his chair closer and gave her a reassuring smile.
Zoe pulled at the rainbow-colored wrapping. From the tissue paper, she extracted a bright orange onesie with the words, 'I get it from my mama.'
Zoe burst out laughing, and the little girl grinned. "See, Mom?" she called out to a woman sitting near the buffet.
The woman smiled. "I see, Jenny." She directed her attention to Zoe and winked. "She wouldn't leave the store without it."
"It's adorable. Thank you, Linda."
Many of the party guests lingered as Lori and Ben wished Zoe the best and started back toward the car.
"Lorraine." Carrie caught up to her in the driveway. She took Lori's hands in her own. "I've wondered about you so many times over the years. I'm so glad you came today."
"Thank you, Mrs. Silva. I appreciate your welcoming us like this. If I’d known you were having a shower, I wouldn't have dropped in out of the blue."
"No, I'm delighted you did. I'd love for you two to come back in the house for a little while. We didn't get much time to talk during the party."
Lori glanced at Ben.
"Please," Carrie said. "You were such a good friend to Bev. I'm sorry if we never told you back then. We were so lost in our pain."
"You don’t owe me an apology,” Lori assured her. “Bev was my lifeline. You guys were like my second family."
Carrie looked at the ground. "We all lost so much, didn't we?"
"Mrs. Silva, I'm sorry to butt in,” Ben said, “but did you or your husband know a man named Hector Dunn?”
Lori bristled at Ben's question. She felt protective of Carrie Silva and suddenly didn't want her to know anything at all about their little sleuthing expedition.
"The name doesn't sound familiar. Why do you ask?"
Darkness Stirring: A Troubled Spirits Novel Page 18
