Closure

by Angela Ford

  Closure

  Angela Ford

  Closure

  A Books to Go Now Publication

  Copyright © Angela Ford 2013

  Books to Go Now

  For information on the cover illustration and design, contact bookstogonow@gmail.com

  First eBook Edition –August 2013

  Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages for review purposes.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person, living or dead, any place, events or occurrences, is purely coincidental. The characters and story lines are created from the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously.

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  DEDICATION

  Dedicated to my sister Cathy, You have been my inspiration to read and write :)

  And to my amazing children, Devon & Shaylyn…mummy loves you xoxo

  Chapter One

  Jessica Resario held her finger firmly on the trigger and waited in the dark, listening to the echo of footsteps on the stairs.

  “Remain focused Agent Resario,” she reminded herself.

  When the bedroom door flew open, she sucked in her breath.

  A dark figure appeared. He wore a balaclava, so the only part of his face she could see was his eyes, but she could tell by the surprised look in them that he didn’t expect to see her. “Jessica!” he exclaimed.

  She needed to remain professional, although she wanted to ask him how the hell he knew it.

  He gave her a cocky smile and lunged forward. She went down hard. The gun flew across the room. She jumped up and ran to the top of the staircase. Only inches behind her, he grabbed her arm. His fingers twisted so powerfully she felt a fierce burn on her skin. With only seconds to act, fear-driven strength crafted the thrust of her raised knee. She stunned him long enough to shake free of his hold and sprint down the stairs. She reached for the front door and swung it hard enough to make it slam against the wall. She hoped the loud bang and the open door would lead him outside. She ran into the living room.

  He reached the bottom of the stairs with only the open door in sight. She breathed in relief; the open door led him outside into the darkened night. Cramped in a tight area behind the sofa, she gently pulled the heavy drapes back just a small crack and peered over the window ledge. She could see nothing but the shadows of tall trees and beyond, an empty street. No sign of a person. Not even a dog barked.

  Is this how my life will end—alone? She wondered.

  Suddenly reality hit her. She let no one in. Brave at work, yet in her personal life, she didn’t have the courage to confess her true feelings to Tom. The murder of her parents ten years before kept her from loving, for fear of losing again. All she had was her work, and her work put her life into the hands of a serial killer.

  Is he gone? She wondered.

  Jess crawled a little farther around the sofa, her knees trembling. She moved slowly, listening for a footstep or a breath taken; she needed a better look. Gently pulling herself up and the heavy drapes open, she peered with one eye over the window ledge. It looked as dark outside as it did inside.

  Who is he? She wondered. How did he know her?

  Is it safe to leave? She knew she had to get out of there.

  Her legs cramped, and she shifted her weight, and then stifled a cry of pain. She’d lost her footing when she fled and missed the last couple of steps. Shaking in fear, she felt pain in her leg. Jess fought for air.

  Where is he? Her eyes tried to focus in the darkened house.

  The front door was still open, about ten feet away. She rose again to have a better look around the drapes, but nothing could be seen except dark shadows and a quiet, dimly-lit street. She stood up slowly from that tiny area, and adjusted to the darkness, then limped to the front door with her hand holding tightly to her bad leg. Her purse was still where she’d left it on the deacon’s bench in the front hall. Her car was still parked in the driveway. She walked out but didn’t close the door. Jess nervously scouted the outside area for him, and clutched her purse in one hand as the other dug inside it for her keys.

  She unlocked the car door, slipped in, then, with trembling hands, she keyed the ignition. For the first time, she could relax. Clearing the driveway at last, she asked for “home.” The car’s device dialed the number. Home for Agent Resario was her boss, Tom.

  “Jesus Jess, I was worried!” Tom’s anxious voice came over the speaker.

  “I’m still breathing,” she answered as she tried to remain the strong, independent woman she portrayed to her team. She held tightly onto the steering wheel to keep her hands from shaking. This time someone got under her skin. She’d not yet learned to follow the protocol. She did things her way instead of the Bureau’s way. She had taken another long shot, and “followed her gut instinct,” as she called it. It was fortunate for young Rebecca Smythe though. Jess saved the girl from becoming victim number four.

  “At least you’re still breathing.” His tone seemed genuine. She knew it was more than that. She’d felt it for a long time. To Jess, to the team, to the world, he remained silent. He appeared solid, professional and almost cold-hearted—or so he thought. She remained silent as always, in denial of his love and her own. She realized she’d let her thoughts wander and switched her focus back to the case.

  “My hunch was right. He went for her and got me. She and her parents cleared out before he arrived. They’re safe. It was dark, he was in black and a balaclava, but I think he recognized me. He called me by my first name.”

  “I want you to take cover for a day or so. You know where to go?” Tom said.

  ****

  He didn’t say much, but it was enough for Jess to understand. All he heard was the dial tone so Tom Erickson turned to his colleagues.

  “She’s alive. It was too dark for her to get a visual of him during a struggle. She’s on her way to the safety point. But he knew her. He called her Jessica.”

  “It’s been a long night. Go home and get some sleep. We’ll begin again tomorrow once we know Jess is safe.” Tom dismissed the team and made one last call to the local authorities to process the scene Jess had just left. Tom grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and turned out the lights.

  ****

  Jess arrived at the airport. She had no one to talk to about what she’d just survived. She didn’t have any friends, except for the team. She respected Tom’s direction to go to the safety point. She just wished he was with her. She needed to talk to someone.

  At 41, Tom was the head of internet security for the FBI in the San Francisco office. Tom physically fit the description of tall, dark and handsome. Something mysterious and dark about him made him very intriguing. His expression was always the same, always serious. She would need to search long to remember if she’d ever seen him smile at anyone. He always dressed in a black suit and tie. But Tom was different with Jess; he smiled when they were alone. He lightened up and joked with her. Most important, he listened to her when she needed to talk and right now she needed him.

  Jess closed her eyes, and took a deep breath as the plane began its take-off. She didn’t notice anyone else on the plane—not even the attendants.
She slept through the whole flight and did not wake until the plane landed. As she walked through the terminal, she felt empty. She’d taken nothing with her but her purse. She’d left everything at the other end of the country—even her dignity. Outside the airport, she hailed a cab.

  Memories suddenly filled her mind as they drove past a park by the ocean, and she remembered playing there as a child. Jess loved the ocean. It gave her a sense of peace and serenity. The salt air, the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks, and the way the sun shone across the ripples and sparkled, seemed magical. While most little girls dreamed of fairy tales and Prince Charming, Jess dreamed of the beach, the ocean, and the warm breeze. Seeing that park beside the ocean overwhelmed her with both happiness and emptiness. The memories of good times only reminded her that her parents would no longer be at the summer home when she arrived. The cab stopped and Jess returned from her memories to the present and paid the driver.

  Jess read the sign above the store, The Village Boutique. She smiled, remembering the first time her mother brought her there. They were shopping for a “tea dress” as her mother called it. It became an annual event, along with tea at “high noon” at the Village Tea House. Tears welled up in her eyes but her heart smiled remembering those treasured moments with her mom. Jess took a deep breath as she placed her hand on the big brass door handle of The Village Boutique.

  Inside it felt the same, and smelled the same. Not a single thing had changed from what she remembered. A familiar voice came from inside the store,

  “Jessica Resario, is that you?”

  A woman with white hair walked toward her and there was something about her that looked familiar and heartwarming.

  “My God, it is you! You’ve grown into such a beautiful woman. You look just like your mother.”

  Before Jess knew it, the woman had locked her arms around her in a hug. Jess smiled politely at Mrs. Walker.

  “Hi, Mrs. Walker, thank you for the compliment.”

  “Oh, you were such a doll when you were little. It’s nice to see your manners are still with you. Your mother brought you up right.”

  Jess just smiled as she remembered how amazingly fast the woman could speak.

  “I was so sorry to hear about your parents, Jessica. It was just so terrible. We all wondered if you would ever come back to us. The house has sat empty for so long now. Are you planning to stay for a while?”

  Jess nodded. She had become a woman of few smiles and less words. It was just very hard for her to get close to another human being since that awful night. How ironic that her first day at college, which should have been the beginning of her future, was the last day of her family.

  Mrs. Walker continued rambling about the community, interrupting herself now and then to holler out, and ″Sandra! Sandra! ″

  Another familiar voice came from behind her.

  “Oh my God, it’s Jess!” Jess knew the voice and smiled with delight. “Sandra Walker,” she said. The two women hugged.

  Sandra smiled and flashed her left hand in Jess’s face. “Well, actually, its Sandra Cameron now.”

  “You married Billy Cameron after all.”

  “Well, he goes by Bill now, but yes, the one and only guy in my heart.”

  Mrs. Walker continued to ramble and both girls laughed as they always did. Sandra’s mom was well-known for her fast tongue, and referred to by many as the village know-it-all. It was good to see some familiar faces, but too much when Sandra invited her for dinner. What would Jess talk about besides the initial, it’s-nice-to-see-you, how-have-you-been to where-have-you-been and what-have-you been-up-to? Questions Jess was just not ready to answer yet.

  So she told her friend she was tired from travelling and the airlines lost her luggage, which was why she’d come to the boutique. The ladies were polite. They called a cab to take her to the one and only place she could go to—a place she hadn’t been since the awful tragedy. The thought terrified her.

  Distracted with thoughts of returning to the place that was once most memorable, but now horrific, Jess didn’t pay much attention to the pale green old truck parked on the road at the end of the driveway. The man inside the truck made eye contact with her as the cab slowly turned in. Usually her investigative mind would have studied his face and stored it in her memory, but her mind was busy convincing herself she was ready to deal with her parents’ murders.

  “This is a beautiful spot,” the cab driver announced.

  “My mom’s dream beach home,” she sadly replied. Jess’s memory flashed backed to when she was seven and her parents first took her to their new summer home. There was lots of excitement in her parent’s car that day. It was her mother’s dream beach home, and that’s exactly what it had become to Jess also until that fateful night.

  Her love of the ocean was passed down from mother to daughter. Jess lived on the West Coast now, to be near the ocean—the one place she could always go to when things were tough and she felt all alone. She hadn’t been able to make herself go to the East Coast, to that ocean—it was too painful. Now, she had no choice; it was time to deal with the past.

  “What an amazing view of the ocean. It’s deceiving. You wouldn’t know from the driveway as you only see the trees,” the cabbie remarked.

  “My mom called the property, ‘the enchanted forest with the hidden secret of the ocean view,’ ” Jess informed him. The house’s simple design was made up of two gently curved overlapped roofs. Most of the windows faced south to capture the spectacular view of the coastline, and also to optimize daylight. There was something about the type of windows used, that Jess couldn’t quite recollect.

  “The clerestory operable windows make the difference to allow the light to penetrate throughout the house. It should help reduce your heating bills,” the cabbie said as he put the car in park.

  “That’s what they’re called. I couldn’t recollect what my mom called them. She was an environmentalist and interior designer. I guess I didn’t pay much attention when I was younger, “she said and then chuckled to herself. She pictured her father’s smirk when he tried to explain in simple terms, that it saved money. He could always make her laugh, even when she was sad. That was her greatest memory of him.

  “Miss,” the cabbie said, as he opened her door.

  “Thank you, sir. You know a thing or two about windows?” she asked with a smile.

  “A few,” he admitted and smiled too. “I’m also a contractor for home renovations, if you ever need anything fixed up.” He handed her his business card. She handed him the fare, thanked him again and retrieved her bags.

  The cab slowly retreated down the driveway and she stood there for a few moments. Jess took a deep breath, and tried to persuade herself to go in. She reached for the key in her pocket as she walked up the cobblestone steps, then turned the key in the lock. The door opened and she froze. From here, she could easily see the remarkable view of the ocean. There was no need to walk through the house. “Infinite Appeal,” were the words Jess recollected her mom saying the first day they looked at it with the realtor. Her mom had immediately said, “This is the one.”

  The rest of the house was amazing too. It had an open plan with a few interior walls and a band of clerestory windows that allowed the sunlight to penetrate deeply into the far end of the house. To her right were two steps down into her room. It still looked like the pink princess fairytale room her mother designed for her. Nothing had been touched. She dropped her bags on the steps of her room and continued down the entry into the “great room” as her mom had called it.

  Straight ahead lay the dining room with a colossal oak dining table in the middle of the room. Many family meals were eaten there looking out at the ocean.

  To the right was a massive stone fireplace that captured one entire wall. Before it, inviting armchairs and a chaise lounge stood to on
e side. On many nights, the family sat by the fire, talking, and reading. The window seat then caught her eye; that nook that she would crawl into as a little girl to read and some nights fall asleep listening to her parents talk. They were so in love with each other, and adored Jess. To her, they were her fairytale.

  She’d had so much before the murders. For years she had forbidden herself to love for fear of loss but for the past several hours, it was all she could think about. Jess knew she was too hard on herself. After all, she was only human.

  Lost in her thoughts, and feeling sorry for herself, she discovered her hand on the banister that led upstairs to her dad’s den. Most of the second level was open. The kitchen to the left of the staircase entry consisted of stainless steel appliances and cherry wood cabinetry—the island, the cabinets and the hutch. Beyond the great room was the master suite, a place Jess desired to leave behind that closed door.

  A sudden knock at the door startled her and she turned around. The door slowly opened and a voice called out her name. Jess smiled. Before she even turned, she knew who it was. “Mr. Roberts. How are you?”

  He looked the same, just older. He and his wife lived a half-mile up the road and since the Resarios only spent their summers at the beach home, Mr. Roberts agreed to be the home’s caretaker during the off-season. Even after the tragedy, the agreement continued.

  “I’m fine Miss Jessica. I heard through the grapevine that you were in town.” Jess knew that Mrs. Walker must have called him the minute she left the boutique.

  “How is Mrs. Roberts?”

  “Oh, she’s wonderful, as always. She wanted to come by and see you but thought it best to let you settle in first. She said to call if there was anything you need. She sent some food and necessities for you.”