Never Knowing

by Chevy Stevens

  He pointed the gun at me. “I told you to shut up.” He continued pacing. Then stopped and spun around. “John had a large fan base, all murder groupies—they’re angry you killed him. One of them decided to seek revenge.” He nodded. “I can make that work.”

  Billy walked over to the knife block, picked up the biggest one, and hefted it in his hand, like he was testing its weight. He sliced it through the air, once, twice.

  Melanie said, “Or I can help you.” I gasped. But she didn’t look at me. She said, “Suicide is way more believable—there’s already drugs in Sara’s system. We don’t have to hurt the kid. But it would look better for you if I’m the one to find Sara’s body. I could try to revive her, but…” She shrugged.

  “You think I’m going to fall for that?” But he sounded tense. He knew she was right.

  “I hate Sara.” Melanie spit the words out. “I’ve always hated her. She’s not even my real sister. If she dies, I’ll owe you for the rest of my life.” She dropped to her knees off the chair. Startled, Billy stepped back, the gun pointed at her face, but she crawled forward on her knees. “I’ll even tell the cops I saw her today and she was really depressed.”

  From the side, I saw a gleam in Melanie’s eye. I wanted to say something, anything, but my tongue felt thick and my vision was a little blurry. The pills were definitely kicking in.

  Melanie was in front of Billy now. He didn’t move.

  “I’m your best chance to get out of this,” she said. Billy’s face was intense, his forehead covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

  Her hands at her sides, Melanie rose, still on her knees, so her mouth was right in front of Billy’s crotch. He stared down, transfixed.

  “I’ll do anything you want, Billy.”

  I finally found my voice. “Doesn’t matter what she says—you’ll never get away with this. And when your father finds out, he’ll—”

  Billy looked up. “You bitch—”

  Melanie rammed her forehead into his crotch. He let out a huge bellow and stumbled backward. The knife fell out of his hands and skidded to my left. I lunged for it, but my body was slow to respond and I hit the floor with a thud.

  Melanie and Billy were struggling for the gun. He grabbed her by the hair and slammed her head into the fridge. I reached for the knife but my fingers closed around air. I looked to my left and saw Billy dive for the gun on the floor—Melanie kicked it away in time.

  He punched her. She went down and stayed down. Now he was coming for me. My vision was blurry, but I could see the gun in his hand. I searched the floor in frantic swoops. Just as my fingers closed around the knife, his hands grasped my feet and he hauled me out from under the table. I tried to grip the table leg with one hand, but he pulled harder. Then I heard a small voice.

  “Mommy?”

  Billy let go of my leg and straightened up. I thrust the knife into his thigh. He screamed and clutched at it. I was still gripping the handle as he wrenched his body backward until I was left holding the knife.

  “Mommy!”

  Blood from Billy’s leg was turning the front of his jeans dark. He dropped to his knees. My vision was getting worse.

  Ally was still screaming. Billy crawled toward the gun, which had ended up near the sliding glass door. Moose was going nuts through the glass.

  With the knife in my hands I crawled after Billy, but my body swayed. I focused my blurred eyes on his back as he stretched for the gun. When I was right behind him, I raised my hand with the knife. He saw me in the door’s reflection and kicked backward, catching me under the chin and knocking me into the cupboards. Ally screamed and ran toward me.

  I yelled, “Stay there!”

  Billy spun around, his face a mask of red rage, and pointed the gun at me. I used my last bit of strength to brace on my elbows and kicked my heel hard into the wound in his thigh. He screamed and I kicked out again, managing to connect with his hand and knocking the gun across the kitchen.

  It landed at Ally’s feet. She had her hands over her ears as she screamed and screamed. Billy and I scrambled after the gun. I pulled myself onto his back and tried to wrap my arms under his neck. He got to his feet with me clinging to him and roared as he stumbled backward.

  We hit the sliding glass door with a thud that knocked the breath out of me. As he stepped forward I slid off his back and landed on the floor hard, gasping for air. My mouth filled with the metallic taste of blood. He spun around and started to kick me. In my chest, my legs, my head. Pinned against the glass, I had nowhere to go. Behind me Moose barked frantically.

  Melanie’s voice rang out. “Leave my sister alone, you fucker.”

  The loud crack of a gun. The images were blurry, but I could make out the stunned expression on Billy’s face and a circle of blood opening up on the front of his shirt. Another shot rang out and he collapsed on top of me.

  Everything turned dark. Hands were on my arm and someone was pulling me hard, and then there was a finger down my throat.

  “Sara, throw up!”

  I fought the finger, but it jammed in deeper.

  Melanie’s voice said, “Ally, call 911!”

  * * *

  I hope to God you never have to have your stomach pumped, Nadine. Not a lot of fun—nor is hanging out in the hospital for two days. You wouldn’t believe how loud it gets in there sometimes, especially at night. But I never slept anyway. The fact that John took the blame for attacking you and shooting Evan still haunts me. He must have suspected it was someone on the force. But it’s hard to know what was going on in his head. I wonder sometimes why he didn’t just tell me it wasn’t him, but I wouldn’t have believed him. And he probably knew it.

  He must have also known all along I was working with the cops and set up the meetings to test me. But I don’t understand why he kept phoning. He had to have realized he was taking a chance with each call. Was he that confident they wouldn’t catch him, or did he want a connection with me so badly he was willing to take the risk? I’d betrayed him, again and again, but he still tried to protect me. If I was carrying guilt for killing him before, I’m dragging heaps of it now. I understand your theory that I might be focusing on my father’s rescuing me as a way of reconciling myself with his being a serial killer. But it’s the opposite. Knowing he wasn’t all bad is a whole lot harder than believing he was pure evil.

  I keep thinking about that last day with John—my only day with him—how hard he was trying to please me. And when I attacked him in the river … I wonder what he’d been trying to tell me. I’ll never know. There’s a lot we’ll never know about this case, which is what I’m having the hardest time with. Acceptance and letting go isn’t really my thing. But I need to if I’m ever going to find some sort of peace.

  The cops were hard on us when they first took our statements, but as soon as they found the Remington .223 in Billy’s attic and discovered a shell casing missing from an evidence box, they changed their tune. Sandy came to see me in the hospital. Turns out it was Billy who convinced Julia to speak to me about meeting John. He’d been filling her in on the case all along, part of his strategy to scare the crap out of her so she’d turn around and pressure me. Sandy only spoke to her a couple of times. Julia wasn’t lying after all.

  Sandy apologized for being so obsessed by the case and admitted she was hard on me. But it was part of a plan. After it became clear Sandy and I didn’t connect, Billy suggested she act as the aggressor and he be the nice guy. She still feels bad that John got Ally, and she’s mortified that she didn’t know what her partner was up to. When I told her I knew she’d done the best she could, I swear I saw tears in her eyes. I look at her differently now—or maybe I’m just finally seeing her.

  When they searched Billy’s house they also found a few books about The Art of War and some other Chinese classics. On his hard drive they found a draft of his own book, titled The Art of Police Work. He’d used several famous cases for examples, but most of the strategies were applied to his “one big case
,” the hunt for the Campsite Killer. He also had notebooks on John and copies of every file.

  Another mystery was solved when they searched Billy’s browser history and found all the Web sites where he’d posted a link to the original article about the Campsite Killer being my father. He made sure it spread across the Internet—obviously in hopes of flushing out John. When the police looked into it they discovered he’d even posted the article on some where-to-camp-in-BC forums, using the screen name The Dark Knight. The worst part is that he linked to my business directory, which is probably how John got my cell number.

  When I got home from the hospital I read The Art of War front to back, still trying to make sense of Billy’s actions. But in the end I was just left with the feeling he’d interpreted each quote for his own purposes. There was one line in there that basically summed up his entire friendship with me: “Command them with civility, rally them with martial discipline, and you will win their confidence.” Now I realize just how much Billy was manipulating me all along—keeping my spirits high, bringing me food, getting me ready for the next “battle,” even stealing Moose so he could help me find him.

  First thing Dad said was, “I knew there was something off about him. He didn’t dress like a cop.” I started to argue that Billy’s dressing nice didn’t mean squat, then realized I was feeling defensive for liking Billy. That’s the hardest part, that I liked him. But maybe you’re right and it wasn’t Billy I liked so much as what he was teaching me. I know he just needed me to be calm so he could use me. But he did help. Even now when I get stressed out or start to panic I think, Breath, regroup, just focus on your strategy.

  If this whole situation taught me anything, it’s that even though I was terrified ninety-five percent of the time, I did handle everything that was thrown at me. Now I just have to remember to keep moving forward when everything is going sideways. I doubt I’ll ever be cool in a crisis—I’m just not wired that way. But maybe I’ll stop freaking out about the fact that I freak out.

  The police still don’t know who attacked you. Billy could’ve snuck out that night—I even told him the alarm code after he encouraged me to take an Ativan. But he would’ve bragged about it. Sandy still believes it was John, but I don’t think it was him either. Don’t worry—I’m staying out of this one. When I told Evan the same thing, he just laughed and said, “Riiiight.” But I swear this time I’m leaving it to the police.

  Evan feels like a total jerk for blowing off my concerns about the gun, but he’s also pretty proud of himself for never trusting Billy. He’s been getting way too much mileage out of that one, but overall he’s being really sweet. All the fighting we went through scared me, but in the end it made me realize we can have differences and still be right for each other. If we can make it through two killers, marriage is going to be a piece of cake.

  He brought Ally to see me in the hospital. She got super upset the first time—nothing like seeing your mommy with tubes coming out of her—but one of the doctors explained everything and she calmed down. She loved coming after that because I gave her my puddings.

  She slept in our bed both nights I was in the hospital—Evan said she kept waking up screaming. We’ve been taking her to see that therapist and she’s getting better, but she’s still a little clingy. She’s also been throwing some major temper tantrums, so we have to work on that. But in the last month she’s been abducted, watched her mom and aunt get beat up, and seen a man get shot to death. She has to let it out somehow.

  * * *

  Melanie came to see me the first day I was in the hospital. I was sleeping, but when I opened my eyes she was sitting in the chair beside me, flipping through a People magazine. Evan told me she had a minor concussion, so I wasn’t surprised to see the bandage on her forehead, but the black eye was a shock.

  I cleared my throat, which was still swollen from the tube the doctors had jammed down it.

  “Nice shiner.”

  She smiled at me. “Beats yours.”

  I smiled back. “I like purple, makes my eyes look greener.”

  We laughed, but then I groaned.

  “Stop, that hurts.” Our eyes met and our last moment with Billy surrounded us. She shifted her weight in the chair.

  “The stuff I said…” She cleared her throat. “I didn’t mean it.”

  “Yeah, I know. But our relationship does kind of suck.”

  Anger flashed in her eyes, but I held up a hand.

  “I overreact and I have a temper.” I took a deep breath, which made me cough, which hurt like hell. Melanie handed me my water. After I took a sip I said, “And you’re right, sometimes I judge you. But I’m just jealous because of how Dad treats you.”

  “Well, don’t be, because he’s embarrassed I turned out to be such a disappointment. He’s always going on about how well you’ve done for yourself. And he hates my boyfriend.” I’d never looked at it from her perspective before, never realized how much she also wanted Dad’s approval.

  “You’re not a disappointment. But he does hate Kyle.”

  She laughed. “It doesn’t help that he thinks Evan’s perfect. I know Kyle is different, but he’s fun and he makes me feel good. You’ve never tried to get to know him.”

  “You’re right. But I will, okay?”

  “Okay.” She smiled. “I don’t see us going on double dates, though.”

  I laughed, then held my side and gritted my teeth. Once the pain had passed, I said, “You’re probably right, but you never know.” I touched her hand. “Hey, you know what? When you were really little I snuck into your room one night. I thought if I gave you away, Dad would love me. But I stayed in your room for hours watching you sleep.”

  “You were going to give me away?”

  I smiled at the expression on her face.

  “The point is I decided to keep you. Thank God—or I’d be dead right now.”

  She laughed. Then she rested her forehead on my hospital bed and started to cry.

  “Oh, Sara, I thought you were dead. You passed out and I couldn’t get you to wake up. All I could think was that you were going to die believing I hated you.”

  I patted the back of her soft hair. “I know you don’t hate me. And I don’t hate you either—even when you piss me off. Lauren says you and I are a lot alike and that’s why we fight so much.”

  Melanie’s head popped up. “We’re not alike at all.”

  “That’s what I said.” We eyed each other.

  She said, “Oh, fuck.”

  * * *

  When Lauren brought me some clothes from the house, I filled her in about my visit with Melanie.

  “I think we might be okay. I’m sure we’re still going to fight, but at least we’re talking about it now. I still wonder how John knew all that stuff about Ally, but I never really thought Melanie had anything to do with it and now I’m positive.”

  Lauren turned away and started unpacking my bag.

  “Evan should get you some herbal teas for when you get home.”

  “Lauren?”

  She continued unpacking. “Peppermint will help your stomach. And get some herbal cleansers from the health food store—they’ll help with the toxins.”

  “Lauren, can you look at me for a minute?”

  She turned around with a pair of my pants in her hands. I scanned her smiling face and her too-bright eyes. My stomach fluttered.

  “Do you know something?” My voice was still raspy from the tube.

  “About what?” Lauren’s wholesome face isn’t built for lies.

  “What did you do, Lauren?”

  She stood there a moment, then dropped into the chair beside my bed.

  “I didn’t know it was him.”

  “What happened?”

  Her mouth turned down. “A man called and said he was from the newspaper and he was researching what children are interested in these days for an article. He said he got my name from a parent I know—Sheila Watson, she’s a neighbor—so I told him about th
e boys. Then he asked if they had any relatives, and when I said they had a cousin, he wanted to know what she liked. I told him, but when he kept on with more questions about Ally I asked his name again and he hung up. I told Greg about it and he said we shouldn’t say anything—it would just scare you.”

  For the first time in my life, I wanted to hit Lauren.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me—especially after Evan was shot!”

  “I didn’t know for sure if it was the Campsite—”

  “Oh, right.” My face was hot. “You just didn’t want to say anything because you knew I’d be pissed off. He knew how to get to Ally!”

  Lauren gnawed on her lip. “Greg said he would’ve done it no matter what. I feel horrible for telling him about Ally—he just sounded so nice.”

  We were both quiet as I looked at her flushed face. Then something else clicked into place.

  “Did you tell someone the Campsite Killer was my father? Is that how it got leaked?”

  Her face was now scarlet. “Greg … sometimes he talks too much when he’s been drinking. He didn’t know one of the guys in camp was dating a reporter from that site, or he—”

  “You told him, even though I asked you not to tell anyone, not even Greg? You started all of this?” I was gripping a magazine so hard the edge was cutting into my hand. Then I realized something else. “Wait a minute. Greg tells stupid jokes when he’s drunk, but he doesn’t gossip. He knew this could really mess up my life. Why would he let it slip?”

  Lauren’s cheeks flushed again.

  I stared hard at her. She looked away.

  “Did he do this on purpose?”

  Lauren still wasn’t looking at me and her face was desperate, like she wanted to say something but couldn’t. I didn’t believe this was a drunken blunder. Was Greg mad at me because he thought Lauren had talked to me about his drinking? No, that wasn’t it, she was too loyal and he knew it. There had to be some other reason—or person.

  I felt my way slowly. “Was he trying to embarrass Dad?”