Ominous

by Lisa Jackson

  “Mom? Come on!” Penny called to her.

  “Just one second.” She grabbed the large, gold envelope, closed the box, and returned to the van to stash it in her tote bag. “Okay, girls, we are rolling.”

  The swim park was more crowded than usual, but Ruth helped Penny and her friends stake out a spot in the shade of the tall pines where they could spread out the blanket and set up. Although two teenaged lifeguards watched over the swimmers from tall chairs, Ruth was glad to have her camp chair set up close enough to the shoreline that she could watch the girls in the water.

  At half past the hour, the lifeguards pulled all the kids out of the water for a ten-minute safety break, and Ruth counted the four girls huddled together on the dock before turning to her bag for her cell phone. That was when she remembered the gold envelope.

  She removed it quickly, noticing it was unstamped, without an address. Probably from the landlord. Curious, she opened it and pulled out a single sheet of paper—a photo.

  Three naked girls.

  Fear seeped through her as she recognized the sixteen-year-old version of herself standing on the dock, shoulders hunched in embarrassment. Next to her, a more confident Kat was reaching up to swipe dark, wet hair from her face. At the edge of the dock stood Shiloh, a proud, golden lioness with arms extended overhead, as if enjoying the sheen of lake water cascading down her body in rivulets.

  One fuzzy black-and-white photo, and the bottom dropped out of her world.

  He was here, watching her, wanting something.

  With trembling hands, she grabbed her phone.

  *

  Sunglasses offered the best camouflage; no one could see that he was staring. At a picnic table nearby, he tuned out the perennial chatter of her voice and scanned the teenage girls lethargically sunbathing, their flat bellies shiny with lotion, a tiny triangle of cloth covering the area begging to be plundered. Something about seeing girls near water turned him rock solid every time.

  It had to be ninety in the shade as he watched. Part of him wished one of the older ones would take a little jog into the wooded trail at the edge of the park so that he could take her here in the bushes. But … no. He didn’t need any more young ones. He had one at home. A young, pretty one. Hot body, but lacking in experience.

  But that Ruth … she was older and experienced enough to know her way around a man’s body. She would know when to go soft and when to ride hard. Nothing like a woman with experience.

  The sight of all these kids at the water reminded him of that long-ago night when he came upon the three girls skinny-dipping. He flashed to the memory—the three of them naked together.

  He’d thought they were a gift from God, but no. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. Just a short taste of Ruth, and then they had gotten away.

  But not forever. And he owed them all for what they’d done to him. He rubbed the back of his right hand with the fingers of his left, then touched his forehead. They’d attacked him, the damn whores. He was pretty sure it was Patrick Starr’s daughter who’d gotten him with the screwdriver. Bitch! He’d make her pay all right, when the time came.

  But now, staring at Ruth, he wanted to just dive inside her. Fiery red hair, ripe breasts, shapely legs that would wrap around him nice and tight. Ruth would be a good fit. And this time, he would not let her go.

  *

  She found it difficult to focus on Kat’s voice as she watched Penny and her friends take turns diving from the dock. Something about clearing her morning schedule.

  “He sent Shiloh a photo too,” Kat said. “She just let me know. Sounds like the same one.”

  “He sent her one too?” Hearing her voice rise, Ruth stopped herself, then whispered, “What the hell does he want from us?”

  The silence on the phone indicated that there was no good answer to that question.

  “I can have the night patrol come by your house,” Kat suggested. “Or maybe you want to pack up your daughter and stay with your parents for a while.”

  “Not my parents. Ethan is going to help me.”

  “Ethan, my brother?”

  “He’s going to stay at my place until this blows over.”

  “Okay.” Kat sounded a bit nonplussed, but then said, “Glad you’re not alone. With the way things are developing, it’s good you’re coming in tomorrow, Ruth.”

  Wide girth, furry skin, thick hands.

  Ruth vividly remembered the taste, look, and feel of that evil.

  Closing her mind to the dark memories, Ruth thanked God for Ethan—for the love and protection he was offering so soon in their relationship. The stoic part of her told her that it was too much too soon, that she was a professional woman capable of taking care of herself. But in reality, those arguments were riddled with cracks and holes, like the metaphorical wall she had constructed to keep people out when she was raped. The wall had been built upon fear; it was time to bring it tumbling down.

  Time to recognize her own humanity, her need for love and protection.

  Shivering despite the heat, Ruth counted the girls on the dock for the umpteenth time. Everyone was safe, and she planned to keep it that way.

  Part Four

  Kat

  Chapter 21

  Katrina brushed her teeth with vigor and spat toothpaste into the sink. She looked at her reflection in the mirror: serious brown eyes, messy dark hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, gleaming white teeth, and—

  She turned quickly to the toilet as bile rose in her throat, leaned down, and promptly threw up blood. She gasped in horror at the sight, breathing so fast and hard she thought she might pass out. Then she realized the color came from Betty Ann’s red velvet cupcakes, which had called to her yesterday afternoon after she left work; she’d brought home a half dozen more, eating them for last night’s dinner and today’s breakfast. Not the healthiest meals on record, but then she hadn’t been making the best food and drink choices for a while. She pretty much fueled up on whatever was handiest. It was a bad routine that she swore she was going to fix, but she hadn’t managed that yet.

  Relieved, she flushed the toilet, then rinsed her mouth under the faucet and began the toothbrushing process again.

  Pregnant.

  The word slipped into her consciousness unbidden, and she immediately dismissed it. Nope. Not pregnant.

  But you could be, her nagging conscience reminded.

  Feeling another wave of nausea, she braced her arms on the sink, spat a couple of times, heart pumping, stomach rollicking. Sweat broke out on her forehead, and the feeling took a couple of minutes to pass. She drew a deep breath and hung her head. Maybe she was just sick, fighting a bug. That had to be it. In any case, Ruth was making her statement today, and she wasn’t going to miss it.

  Yep, the flu. A summer bug, she decided. Naomi had been out sick for a few days a couple of weeks ago. Kat hadn’t been paying attention, but the dispatcher had definitely caught something.

  Still, now that she thought about it, she’d been feeling weird for a couple of weeks, off and on. She’d put it down to the intensity of the job, the need to find Addie Donovan, the guilt that followed her around from not confessing about Ruth’s rape. She’d nearly upchucked at the sight of Courtney Pearson’s corpse, but then she’d known Courtney. Not friends, but classmates. A part of Kat had admired Courtney’s wildness, the way she thumbed her nose at convention. The same traits that had drawn Kat toward Shiloh. The same traits that had led Kat toward some bad choices of her own.

  Odds are you don’t get pregnant from a one-night stand.

  She stared at her reflection again, her mouth tightening. She catalogued her wan cheeks and sunken eyes. Since when have the odds been in your favor?

  “Don’t be a pessimist,” she muttered. She’d certainly felt enough of that over the years. Her father’s obsession with the missing girls—and your own, Kat. I mean, let’s be honest here—and the sadness that had followed her around since her mother’s death … and now Addie’s disap
pearance, and discovering Courtney… it had certainly left her feeling that life was hard.

  Well, to hell with it. She was determined to have a better outlook.

  She splashed cold water on her face and pinched her cheeks. Then she pulled out the under-eye cream and added more liner and mascara than normal. It was going to be extremely difficult for Ruth to bring up the events of that night, but it would be no picnic for Kat, either. Everyone she worked with—Sheriff Featherstone, Detective Ricki Dillinger, and all her other coworkers—would know about Kat’s continued silence, and though they might not say anything to her directly, judgments would be made. It was a small price to pay for finally getting the information out there, and it was nothing compared to Ruth’s trauma. Nonetheless, it was something Kat had to face—and she already felt like death warmed over.

  Walking into the bedroom, she glanced at the clock. Seven-thirty in the morning and hot as blazes. After pulling on her jeans, Kat slipped on a short-sleeved, tan blouse. She only wore a uniform for special duty—like the parade. Most of the time, like the other deputies, she chose street clothes.

  But what if you’re pregnant?

  She put a hand to her stomach and tried to imagine that future. Her mind was a blank.

  The flu, she reminded herself sternly.

  Climbing into her Jeep, she drove to the station, pulling into the back lot a few minutes before eight. Naomi Simmons was already at the reception desk when Kat walked in.

  “When you were out for a couple days a few weeks ago, was it the flu?” Kat asked the dispatcher. “I was trying to remember.”

  “Nah, it was a sinus infection. Complications from my allergies, which were horrible a few weeks ago, and not a whole lot better now.”

  “Oh … right.”

  “If it isn’t the trees, it’s the grass, and if it isn’t the grass, it’s the flowers. Don’t even talk about it because now I feel like I want to sneeze.” And with that, she did.

  Kat started to move off. Not the flu, huh.

  “Fresh cupcakes from Betty Ann’s in the break room,” Naomi called after her.

  Kat’s stomach lurched, and she was forced to inhale a careful breath. “Thanks.”

  “They’re just the best, aren’t they?”

  “The best.”

  She headed into the central squad room, a space shared by most of the officers. Easing herself into her desk chair, Kat forcefully shoved thoughts of her possible condition aside. She didn’t have time to think about it today.

  Footsteps sounded behind her, and she looked around to see Detective Ricki Dillinger heading her way, a red velvet cupcake on a plate. “Talked to your dad, and he said these are some of your favorites.” She set the plate on Kat’s desk.

  “Thanks. You talked to Dad?” Kat kept her gaze averted from the cupcake, her stomach leaping madly, as if it wanted to catapult from her body. She put one firm hand over it.

  “You sent him a copy of one of the pictures you took of Courtney Pearson.”

  Kat went cold inside. Yes, she had given her father a copy of the photo she’d taken with her cell phone, and it was against all department rules. “I—I wanted his opinion. When we were all chasing that other killer a few years back, I went to him for advice, even though he wasn’t on the force anymore. You were leading the charge on that one, but Dad’s got great insights and—”

  Ricki held up a palm. “Stop right there. I know why you did it, and there’s no denying that Patrick’s a professional. But he’s no longer with the department.”

  “I’m sorry.” Hell, Kat, are you going to get fired today?

  “You just need to give me a heads up before you go off page.”

  “Sure, sure.” Kat’s heart was racing with adrenalin. It wasn’t like her to be a lone ranger, as a rule.

  “Sam and I talked it over, and I said I’d talk to you about it. We’re clear, right.”

  “Clear. Absolutely.”

  “Okay, good.” She grimaced, then smiled a bit sheepishly. “I wouldn’t have known, but Patrick called me, not the other way around. He looked over the photo and had some thoughts. He agrees that the gasoline may have been because the killer planned to burn the body.”

  Kat nodded, glad they’d moved on. Was it wrong to feel a teeny bit betrayed that her father had called Ricki first? Probably. She was lucky she’d gotten a reprimand and that’s all. Working to keep her feelings from showing on her face, she nearly missed what Ricki was saying.

  “—right about that barbed wire. It’s Dillinger, all right. Old style, though. We don’t use it around the Rocking D anymore.”

  “The barbed wire around Courtney’s wrists?” Kat asked, playing catch-up.

  She nodded. “Your father zeroed in on it. Told me to do the same, so I did, and I ran a close-up of it. I’m taking that picture to my father this afternoon. If anybody knows anything about Dillinger barbed wire, it’ll be Ira. I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

  “Yes,” Kat said immediately.

  “Good.”

  As Ricki started to move off, Kat said, “Um … Ruth Baker’s coming in this morning.”

  Ricki turned back to her. “She have an idea about who was lurking outside her house the other night?”

  “No … this is something else, though it could be related. She’s …” Kat swallowed hard. Her uncertain stomach hadn’t settled down. She started breathing rapidly, aware that she could throw up at any time.

  “You okay?” Ricki asked, frowning at whatever she could see on Kat’s face.

  “Man, I could use a club soda.” At The Dog she’d told Shiloh that she was drinking club soda because she was on duty, which was the truth, but she hadn’t been feeling right even then.

  “You sick?”

  “More like hungover,” she lied. She wasn’t ready to tell Ricki or anyone else about her suspicions. What she really needed was a pregnancy test. Then she would know the good, the bad, and the ugly. Please don’t let me be pregnant, she silently prayed. “Ruth just has some things she wants to go over with us.”

  “Like Skip Chandler?” Ricki asked.

  “Skip?” Kat repeated.

  “Apparently he stole some miniature flags from Menlo’s during the parade and handed them out to the kids. Ruth talked to Sam and said Skip used one to lure her daughter away.”

  “I know. I talked to the store manager about it.” Skip Chandler was one of the top three names on her father’s suspect list.

  “Oh, that was you. Okay.” She nodded. “Sam talked to Skip, and he says he just told the girl where the fountain was, and she followed after him to wash off her hands. I’m not saying Skip wouldn’t lie, but it doesn’t sound like coercion. There’s probably more to the story. The man’s a thief and lewd and unreliable, and at least once a year he gets in a fight at Big Bart’s or The Dog and lands in jail. But he’s never been known to engage with children. It’s not part of his MO, but we’re still keeping an eye on him.”

  “He’s always been a little off,” Kat said.

  “Stealing the flags from Menlo’s … that’s exactly the kind of dumb thing Skip does. He’s compulsive. Never thinks of the consequences, or just doesn’t care. Probably a little of both.” Ricki stopped, but seemed to want to say more.

  “What else has he done?”

  “It’s not that. You know Sam went to Ruth Baker’s house the other night because she said she was being stalked.”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s had us watching her house since because of someone she says she saw in the bushes, which is ending today.”

  “You don’t believe her?”

  “She saw something,” Ricki acknowledged. “Whether it was real, or imagined, I don’t know. And this Skip Chandler thing with her daughter on the heels of it.. . I just want to know if there’s a credible threat to her, or if she’s been influenced by the discovery of Courtney Pearson’s corpse and Addie Donovan’s disappearance. What do you think?”

  The picture Shiloh ha
d slipped to Kat inside an envelope when she’d stopped at the station played across the screen of Kat’s mind. “Open it when you’re alone,” Shiloh had warned. “It was left in my mailbox. Don’t call me; I’ll call you.” Shiloh had been accompanied by her half sister, Morgan, at the time, so Kat had followed instructions, waiting until she was home before gingerly pulling out the photo. A black-and-white picture of the three of them, naked. From that night at the pond.

  The image had had a profound effect on Kat. All those memories had bubbled to the surface anew. She was still waiting for Shiloh’s call, figuring if she hadn’t heard from her by the end of the week, she’d be doing some calling of her own, whether Shiloh liked it or not.

  But then Ruth had told her she’d received a picture too.

  “I believe it’s a credible threat. She’s a therapist, and she’s not overly hysterical,” Kat said. “She has her reasons, and that’s why she’s coming in.”

  “I’m curious what she has to say.” When Kat didn’t comment, she said, “All right then. Call me when she’s here. Oh, and we’re getting the ME’s full report on Courtney Pearson later today. Maybe we’ll get some more answers.” As Ricki started to move off again, she added, “I think I saw some club soda in the break room fridge.”

  Kat looked up in surprise. “Do I look that bad?”

  “You look tired” was the diplomatic answer thrown over her shoulder.

  Half an hour later, Kat had grabbed her cell phone to call Ruth when it rang in her hand, and she nearly dropped it. She looked at the screen. Ruth. “Well, finally,” she muttered, then answered, somewhat impatiently, “Where are you?”

  “I can’t do it, Kat. I’ve thought about it and thought about it. All night and this morning. I’ll give my statement to you, but I can’t come into the station. I’m sorry. I can’t face them all yet. I should be stronger. I am stronger, most of the time. I talked to my parents and your brother, but I can’t just waltz into the station and talk about the rape. I’ve pictured myself walking up those front steps in my mind, and I always stop before I open the station door.”