Girl Eight

by Melinda Woodhall

  Leo went silent, and Barker wondered if he was counting to ten, trying to stop himself from lashing out. Barker used the technique himself when he started getting out of control.

  “You’re right, Barker. Finding out who killed Penelope has to be the top priority, because I’m convinced that whoever killed her has killed at least twice before, and won’t hesitate to kill again.”

  Barker frowned, looking down at the index cards spread out in front of him. Penelope Yates’ name was already written on one of the cards he’d put in the witness pile. Barker picked up the card with Penelope’s name and placed it on top of the cards listing Helena Steele and Natalie Lorenzo. She was one of the victims now.

  “Okay,” Barker agreed. “I’ll call Nessa.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The faded pick-up truck turned onto the dirt road, emitting the usual rattles and groans as it lumbered toward the old dairy farm. Ace had neglected to fill in the inevitable potholes and ruts that had formed over the years, and the road was uncomfortable to navigate in any vehicle, much less an old truck with worn out shocks.

  But that was the way Ace liked it. He didn’t want anyone from town snooping around. His old truck was the only vehicle that should be on the dirt road, and he only drove it out to the farm and back. In town he drove a shiny, well-maintained car that hummed so smoothly no one could hear it coming.

  As Ace approached the stable, the sun glinted off the tin roof, reflecting onto the windshield and causing Ace to lift one callused hand to block the glare. He climbed out of the truck and strode to the stable, opening the doors to reveal the hardpacked floor and empty milking stalls just as he’d left them.

  The dirt floor in stall seven was undisturbed. He walked in and stood in the middle of the stall, remembering the girl safely buried only a few feet below him. Heat rose in his veins as he remembered the smooth, pale skin and scared blue eyes. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and opened his photos app. The last picture he’d taken popped up on the screen.

  There she was, the fairy tale princess he’d kept in the tower. Only he hadn’t been a prince, and she hadn’t lived happily ever after.

  No prince charming for you, princess. Just the ugly frog.

  He chuckled, but the laugh was forced. He was feeling moody again. Coming out to the old place could do that to him. The memories he had there were a mix of good and bad. Some days the bad ones seemed to take over. Sometimes the old farm made him think about his father, and that could ruin his mood for the rest of the day.

  Pop was a mean, old bastard, but he taught me how to be tough.

  The lessons Ace had endured on the farm were just blurred memories now, but he knew they’d hardened him, and had prepared him for the life he’d led. His mental toughness and self-sufficiency had seemed a perfect fit for the military, where he’d excelled at first, eventually being stationed in Germany, where he’d been lucky enough to meet Doc.

  Doc had been a medic, which meant he’d had easy access to strong sedatives and pain killers, and he hadn’t been squeamish about using them for clandestine recreational purposes. Ace smiled at the memories.

  Doc and I sure had fun while it lasted. Like the song says, nothing’ll stop the US Air Force!

  Of course, that was before he’d run into trouble. Back before he’d learned to bury the evidence of his indiscretions.

  Ace shook his head, trying to clear away the unwanted images. He preferred to think of his hasty return to the states as a minor bump in the road that led him to his true calling, as opposed to a dishonorable discharge. And nobody in Willow Bay knew what had happened. It was his little secret. Just like the princess buried beneath him.

  Ace dropped his phone back in his pocket and heard a faint clink. He stuck his big hand in and felt around, feeling the cool metal of the gold cross Doc had given him. He pulled it out, dragging the thin chain with it. He looked closely at the girl’s necklace, wondering how much it was worth. The cross was small, and the chain thin, so it probably wouldn’t bring in much, even if he could risk selling it.

  The feel of the necklace in his hand made him think of the girl who had worn it. Ace knew she’d be waiting for him in the room above the garage. But the thought didn’t bring the usual satisfaction. This time there was too much going on to enjoy the hunt and the thrill of the capture. This time there was too much at risk to fully enjoy his new prize.

  His eyes moved to stall eight, and his pulse quickened at the thought of completing his collection. When he’d first started the mission with Doc, all the stalls had been empty, and the challenge of filling them had been intoxicating.

  Back then he’d known the game of hunt, capture and kill would go on for years before all eight stalls were full, and the mission was complete. He hadn’t thought about the end.

  But the last ten years had gone quickly. Although he and Doc had been patient, waiting for the perfect risk-free targets, stopping to take breaks when the risks became too much, the game was almost over. He looked again at stall eight.

  What’s next? Another mission? Another partner?

  A buzz from Ace’s pocket brought him back from his memories. He once again pulled out the phone. The text message was from Doc, and Ace rolled his eyes in frustration. More panic. More problems. Doc was in trouble again.

  Maybe it’s time to get a new partner.

  It wasn’t the first time the thought had crossed his mind.

  Although Doc had played his agreed part to the best of his ability, Ace knew that Doc wasn’t tough, that he hadn’t been raised to be hard like Ace had been. While Ace had never even met his own mother, Doc had been raised by a coddling woman who rushed to meet his every need. If Ace was honest with himself, he’d say that Doc was weak.

  But he’s the one that can get the girls.

  Ace couldn’t deny that Doc’s bland appearance and soft voice allowed him to fly under the radar with women. Doc seemed harmless, or even helpful, most of the time. Women in need gravitated to him, while Ace’s rough features and gruff personality put most women on guard.

  As a teenager Ace had sensed that the girls at school feared him. They didn’t tease him or make fun of him, but they stayed away. Sometimes he’d catch a girl staring at him with nervous eyes. He’d come to realize they were scared of him; scared in the way a rabbit is instinctively scared of a fox.

  And Doc had proven himself to be a good partner; he was loyal and grateful for the many times Ace had risked life and livelihood to save Doc from certain ruin. The first time had involved a mishap in Germany. Either Doc had misjudged the dosage, or the local girl had an unusually high tolerance to the drugs. Either way, the girl had regained consciousness sooner than expected, and had run from the room yelling for help.

  Although Ace and Doc had quickly decamped back to base, the room had been booked in Ace’s name, and the German federal police quickly tracked him down. But Ace had denied any wrong doing and claimed that no one else had been involved with the assault. Ace hadn’t been able to save himself, but he’d kept his mouth shut, and Doc had stayed in Germany while Ace had flown home in disgrace.

  After Doc’s enlistment had ended, he’d left Germany with an honorable discharge on his record, making his way to Willow Bay. He’d wanted to visit Ace before med school started and, thanks to Doc’s volunteer work at the community health center, they’d once again had access to the drugs that provided opportunity for more illicit adventures.

  And while they thought they’d been careful that summer, and had assumed they’d gotten away with their misbehavior, it wasn’t until Doc had returned years later to set up his private practice in Willow Bay that they’d been confronted with the truth.

  Ace could still see the panic in Doc’s eyes when he’d come begging for help. A woman from the past was threatening to tell Doc’s wife everything. About the assault when she’d been a teenager. About the son she wanted him to provide for.

  Doc had said he’d made a terrible mistake, and so Ace had ste
pped in and fixed it once again. But this time it was different. This time, to protect Doc, he’d had to become a killer. It had been his first kill, and he still relished the memory.

  Helena Steele never suspected anyone was in the house. She came home from work, ate a solitary dinner, and padded up the stairs to take a shower. Ace watched her enter the bedroom from his hiding spot in the closet. He saw her remove her work clothes and walk into the bathroom wearing just her bra and underwear. He had to admit she was a fine-looking woman; the kind of woman that had never given him the time of day.

  Once Helena turned on the shower, Ace crept out of the closet and slid under the bed, careful not to cut himself with the boning knife he’d pilfered earlier from the knife rack downstairs. Ace had been in the house for hours, rifling through the family’s possessions, hoping to find a gun. The best he could come up with was the knife. He’d also impulsively pocketed a sterling silver bracelet he’d found in a dainty jewelry box on the dresser; it would make a good souvenir.

  The jarring ring of the phone prompted Helena to turn off the water. Ace lay utterly still under the bed as she entered the bedroom, her bare feet whispering against the carpet as she crossed the room. He was mesmerized by the one-sided conversation, enjoying the soft intimacy of her voice as she spoke and paused, laughed and paused.

  “Hi honey…yes, I heated up the lasagna…uh-huh…just got out of the shower…how was your day…that’s nice…okay, no hurry…I won’t wait up…drive safe…love you, too.”

  His excitement built as Helena performed her final bedtime routine. He relished knowing that he had the power to decide how long she lived, and when she would die. By the time she turned the lights out he was shaking with anticipation. The sound of her steady, even breathing was his cue to slip out from beneath the bed.

  The glow of the bedside clock provided just enough light for Ace to see Helena’s long, dark hair spread out on the pillow. Her face was pale and almost ethereal as he stood over her, wishing she were awake so he could see the fear enter her beautiful eyes. But her husband would be home soon, and he needed to complete his mission and leave undetected.

  He raised the boning knife high in his left hand, ready to stab down in a dramatic arc, when the phone rang again. Helena’s eyes blinked open, immediately focusing on the glint from the knife above her. Ace hesitated then brought his hand down, but she’d already rolled to the side.

  Perhaps it was survival instinct that made her move so fast. She was up and halfway off the other side of the bed before Ace caught her, wrapping his big hand in her thick hair and ripping her head back against his chest. The sharp point of the knife sunk into the soft flesh of her neck; a swift cut to the left turned her scream into a gurgle. Blood squirted and gushed, painting the once white room a garish crimson.

  Ace dropped Helena’s lifeless body onto the bed, glad he’d thought to pull on protective coveralls before he’d entered the house. In his line of work he’d become well-acquainted with blood, only he usually didn’t have to deal with such hot, fresh blood. And so much of it.

  He knew he needed to leave. Knew her husband would be home soon. But he wanted to remember her. Needed to have more than just a token of his first kill. He unzipped his coveralls and reached into his pocket for his phone. The flash lit up the room, allowing him to see the woman clearly for the first time since he’d entered the house. The sight of her dark staring eyes, now blank and devoid of life, thrilled him to his core. The unattainable woman who would have never looked at him twice in the street, could never look at any man again. In the end, he had won, and the victory was sweet.

  The patch of light shining in through the stable door suddenly dimmed, and Ace blinked, the memories fading, a massive cloud moving over the sun.

  Storm’s on the way. There’ll be work to do.

  Ace needed to go home and prepare the house for the storm before it was too late. After he boarded up the windows and put sandbags by the doors, he’d figure out what to do about Doc, and about girl eight.

  He knew he should take time to enjoy the girl; she might be the last one, at least for a while. But there were too many people in Willow Bay asking too many questions. It wouldn’t be smart to have her above the garage much longer. Especially with the storm coming and crews out searching for people needing help.

  No, if the path of the storm veered toward Willow Bay, he’d have to bring the girl to the stable. And once she was safely put to rest, he’d need to tell Doc that their mission was finally over.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Leo rubbed his eyes and yawned as he knocked on Barker’s door. Before leaving the office he’d taken out the back-up shaver and hair gel he kept in his desk for emergencies, and he now appeared refreshed and immaculately groomed. But the lack of sleep and stress had sapped his energy; mentally he was shattered.

  “Door’s open!”

  Barker's yell reverberated down the hall, prompting Leo to shake his head as he twisted the door knob.

  “Yes, it sure is, Barker,” Leo called out, stepping into the hall and looking around. “Don’t you know a killer is on the loose in Willow Bay?”

  “I’m in here.”

  Leo followed the voice to the dining room, where Barker sat with his laptop computer open and a table full of index cards spread out around him. The blinds were closed, and only one of the bulbs in the overhead light fixture was working.

  Leo strode to the window and opened the blinds, letting in a flood of sunlight and making Barker recoil as if he were Dracula emerging from his coffin.

  “Do you always leave your door unlocked?”

  “No, not always. But I’m hoping the killer will see that the door is open and just walk on in,” Barker muttered, not taking his eyes off the cards. “It’s easier that way.”

  Leo waited for Barker to look up, but the big man kept his head down and his eyes on the table. Finally, Leo couldn’t take it anymore.

  “What did you find out at Dr. Bellow’s house? Would he talk to you? Did he admit anything?”

  Barker sighed and leaned back in his chair, looking up at Leo with red, tired eyes. He cocked his head as if trying to remember.

  “Dr. Bellows wasn’t home when I got there, but his wife let me in. She seems like a nice lady.”

  “What did you ask her? What did she say?”

  “Calm down, Leo, I’m trying to tell you.”

  Barker stretched his arms and then his back, which produced a cracking sound that made Leo wince.

  “Mrs. Bellows was kind enough to tell me that her husband was a volunteer at the community health center in 2006. She volunteered there as well.”

  “Did you ask her about Natalie, or my mother?”

  “No, I didn’t get the chance. Dr. Bellows came home and threw a fit. Kicked me out before I could ask more questions.”

  Leo felt his shoulders slump. All the adrenaline that had coursed through his veins with the hope Barker may have found another lead suddenly drained away.

  “Don’t look so down. I did manage to get some new information that might mean something. I’m sitting here trying to figure out what though.”

  Leo looked over at the cards Barker was studying. He saw that Barker had written Community Health Center on one of the cards. Other cards seemed to include years. He’d written 1994 on one, and then 2006 on another.

  “What does 1994 have to do with this?” Leo asked, looking up at Barker.

  “That’s the year Bellows came to Willow Bay for the first time, just after he got out of the military, and just before med school. He volunteered at the Community Health Center then, too.”

  “So, you think Bellows may have met Natalie or my mother when he came to Willow Bay in 1994?”

  Barker shrugged and picked up the 1994 card and placed it next to Natalie Lorenzo’s card. He thought for a minute, frowning in concentration.

  “I’m not good at math, but based on Natalie Lorenzo’s date of birth, I have her at only sixteen in 1994.”
/>   Leo nodded, following Barker’s train of thought.

  “Could she have been hanging around at the community health center back then? Maybe met Dr. Bellows?”

  “That’s what I’m wondering,” Barker said.

  He pointed to another card that lay by itself on the edge of the table. Leo bent over to read the name that Barker had written.

  “Vinny Lorenzo?” Leo glanced over at Barker. “What’s Natalie’s son have to do with this?”

  “He was born in 1994.”

  Leo stared at Barker with wide eyes. A chill crept up his spine as he considered the implications.

  “Bellows was already a grown man in 1994, a respected veteran and volunteer. If he’d gotten a teenager pregnant, he’d be in big trouble with the police, wouldn’t he?”

  “He would be if they found out about it. But it doesn’t look like they did. When Natalie died, Vinny was declared an orphan.” A shadow fell over Barker’s eyes. “I’m the one who told the kid his mother had been killed. I remember that day clearly. I guess you could say it stayed with me.”

  Leo heard something in Barker’s voice that kept him quiet. He waited for Barker to continue.

  “Vinny told me he didn’t know who his father was. His mother had never told him. But at that point the kid was only twelve years old. Natalie was probably trying to protect him from the truth.”

  “So, maybe when Bellows moved back twelve years later, he found out about his son,” Leo said, warming to the theory. “Maybe she threatened to go to the cops, and he panicked and killed her.”

  “It sounds as good a motive as any. But how do we prove it? We don’t even know for sure that Bellows is Vinny’s father.”

  “There’s one sure way to find out,” Leo said. “DNA doesn’t lie.”

  “You think Dr. Bellows is going to volunteer to give us a DNA sample? You’re crazier than I thought.”