by J. R. Adler
Opening her eyes, Kimberley was standing in front of the cottage. This isn’t the same, she told herself. She wouldn’t let another monster slip through her grasp. She couldn’t live with herself if she did, so Kimberley vowed to do everything in her power to bring Hannah and her family justice. So far, they had nothing to go on. Whoever did this knew what they were doing. She hoped Megan would come back with something useful, but Kimberley knew that wasn’t looking good. All she had in terms of suspicion was dipshit Ryan and maybe something would come of those notebooks she collected from Kent.
She shuffled into the house. Finding the living room empty, she walked into the dining room and as soon as she saw Jessica, all the frustration drained from her. Jessica was seated in her highchair, while Nicole was trying to help her hold a spoon to scoop from the bowl of applesauce in front of her. It appeared to not be going all that well, since both of them had smears of applesauce on them. Kimberley walked to Jessica and kissed the top of her forehead.
“How was work?” Nicole asked, while keeping her eyes on her granddaughter.
“Awful.”
Kimberley disappeared into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a bottle of Bud Light. She took a seat at the dining-room table, across from Jessica and Nicole.
“I heard about Hannah Brown.” Nicole raised an eyebrow.
“News travels fast around here.” Kimberley took a swig of her beer.
“It’s just awful. I’m confident you and Sam will find the person responsible though, but I do worry about you.”
“There’s no need to worry, Mom.”
“You’re putting yourself in danger.”
Kimberley refused to argue with her mother about the dangers of police work. If she only knew what kind of danger she had put herself in as a detective working high-profile cases.
“Did you know Hannah?”
“Yes, but not well. I just knew her from around town and at the pharmacy. Always said hi to me. She seemed like a sweet girl.”
Kimberley took a swig of her beer. “Yeah, that’s been the general consensus so far. Sweet girl, but no one really knew her. I can’t stop thinking about her daughter Isobel, growing up without a mother.” She shook her head as she rotated the bottle of beer in her hand, keeping her eyes focused on the label.
“It’s just awful. That poor little girl.” Nicole frowned.
“One of the locals at the bar said there’s a rumor going around that Hannah slept with men for money. Have you heard that?” Kimberley asked, looking at her mom. She couldn’t help but always investigate a case, whether she was on duty or not.
“That’s ridiculous.” Nicole pursed her lips. “I swear these people around here have nothing better to do than gossip. Hannah was a nice girl. She kept to herself mostly, but she was friendly when I saw her at the pharmacy on occasion.”
Jessica dropped the spoon and dove her hand into the bowl of applesauce, giggling.
“You’re such a stinker,” Nicole said, pinching her cheek.
She repositioned the spoon in Jessica’s hand and mimed putting it in her own mouth. “Just like that, Jessica. You got this,” she cheered her on.
Jessica rammed the spoon into the bowl and lifted it, zooming it into her mouth.
“Yay. Such a smart girl,” Nicole said.
Kimberley watched them closely, struck by the bond that had sprung so quickly between grandmother and granddaughter. A small pang hit her out of nowhere as she remembered her own childhood, one free from the love and closeness taking place right before her eyes. Her mother showed her love, but not like this. She was too busy fighting with her alcoholic husband, so Kimberley had spent most of her childhood in her room with the door closed and music playing, trying to drown out the arguing and screaming.
All of a sudden, Kimberley is twelve years old again, sitting on her twin-sized bed holding a stuffed teddy bear tightly against her chest. On top of her dresser sat a small CD player with Now That’s What I Call Music! 5 playing. The song “Absolutely (Story of a Girl)” by Nine Days played loudly on repeat while Kimberley sat stiffly on her bed, quietly singing along to the lyrics in order to drown out what was happening on the other side of her closed bedroom door.
“I’ll fucking kill you, Nicole. You talk to me like that one more time, it’ll be the last thing you ever say,” her father screamed. His words were slurred, tainted with the cheap whiskey he started drinking on his way home from work and didn’t stop drinking until he passed out.
His footsteps were as loud as thunder, like there was a storm brewing in the small home. She heard them pound closer and closer to her room. Her bedroom door was unlocked. She made the mistake of locking it once and it’s why the door was now cracked and splintered.
“You don’t lock doors in my house,” is what her father had yelled as he kicked and banged on it until she unlocked it. She had missed a week of school after that incident as he wouldn’t let her go until the bruises had faded.
“Leave her alone,” her mom yelled. The footsteps pounded down the hallway. Kimberley’s heart raced as she squeezed her teddy bear.
“She’s my daughter. I’ll talk to the little bitch whenever I want,” her father screamed back.
Three… two… one… the door swung open, banging against the drywall. There was already a hole where the handle hit. This wasn’t the first time her dad had thrown open the door in a fit of rage. His hair was blond and stringy, tied back in a stubby ponytail. His face red and blotchy, thanks to his alcoholism. His eyes were a striking blue like the Hope Diamond, but there was no hope for him.
“Why is your music so damn loud?” he said, stomping over to the CD player.
Her mother stood in the doorway, tears streaming down her face. “Stop it, Bruce,” she said, trying to protect her daughter. She looked over at Kimberley with forlorn eyes.
“This is the story of a girl who cried a river and drowned the whole world,” played through the speakers just as her father got to it. He slammed his fist against the top of it, opening the disc drive up. The song abruptly stopped while the CD skidded round and round. He pressed his fingers against the disc, stopping it and picked it up.
“Now That’s What I Call Music?” he said with a laugh. “More like now that’s what I call garbage.” He snapped the CD in half and tossed it on her dresser. “Next time, she’ll learn to keep it down.” He narrowed his eyes at Kimberley and walked out of the room, pushing Nicole aside as he passed by.
“I’m sorry, baby,” Nicole whispered, closing the door.
If she was so sorry, she’d leave him, Kimberley thought to herself as she sat there in her silent bedroom, crying a river that she hoped would be just enough to drown her father.
Kimberley took a gulp of her beer, washing down the memory.
“We have no leads on the case, but it’s quite eerie Hannah was killed in the same way as Katie DeWitt James. Bullet to the head and decapitated,” Kimberley said.
She was consumed by the case and all she wanted to do was talk about it, think about it, dream about it. She figured if she thought about it enough, she’d eventually solve it.
Nicole put her hands over Jessica’s ears. “Don’t talk about that in front of your daughter.”
“Mom, she’s only one. She doesn’t understand what I’m saying,” Kimberley argued.
“Just shush about that around her.”
Kimberley rolled her eyes. “Wish you would have had that same sentiment when I was growing up,” she said just above a whisper.
Nicole glanced over at Kimberley with narrowed eyes. “What did you say?” she asked, but Kimberley was sure she had heard her.
“Dad said and did worse things to me, and you didn’t do anything to stop him.” Kimberley raised her chin.
Nicole closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “I did everything I could to protect you.”
“Except leave him.” Kimberley downed the rest of her beer and stood from her seat.
“That’s re
ally unfair, Kimberley.”
“You’re right, it is. Sorry I brought it up.”
Having enough going on in her life right now, she decided to drop it. Her focus and attention needed to be on the case, not fighting with her mom about a dysfunctional childhood long past.
“I’m going to head out for a run. Can you watch Jessica?” She looked at Nicole, waiting for an answer and trying to determine if she was mad at Kimberley for bringing up her childhood. Nicole took a couple of small, deep breaths, seeming to calm herself down.
Finally, she nodded. “Yes. Don’t forget you’re having dinner with Emily tonight over at the farmhouse, while I watch the grandchildren.”
It had been Nicole’s idea to take the grandchildren for the evening, while Wyatt and David had a boys’ night and Emily and Kimberley had a girls’ night. Nicole wanted both sides of her family to be close, and this was her way of forcing it to happen. Kimberley nodded and left the room to change. She was looking forward to having dinner with Emily as she wanted to bond with her as a friend and a stepsister. It would be good for Jessica to have family and good for Kimberley to have a friend. She never really had one of those.
Kimberley’s Adidas tennis shoes hit the ground, spitting up gravel behind her. She ran like she was running away from something or toward something, she was never sure which it was. She was used to running on treadmills and pavement, so her speed was a little slower than usual, careful not to trip over a rock or twist her ankle in an animal’s hole. She decided to run around the property, the outskirts of the farm—not too far away from Jessica.
She tried to clear her mind, focus on her breathing, her footsteps, the simple beauty of Oklahoma. The pale burn of the sun looked like it was being sucked down into a vortex, the navy and black of the sky filling in toward the exiting light, the captors following the victim as its last signs of life diminish. The bright moon like a stand-in for the burning ball that was once there, hoping to fool any onlookers who might have suspected foul play. The stars being the multitudinous set of accomplices, steadfast in their watching. The sky out here looked like nothing she had seen before. In New York, the city gave off so much ambient light that you couldn’t even see the sky at night, let alone the stars. It truly was a beautiful sight.
Her mind kept spinning back to Hannah. The Hannah she had met before tragedy struck her life. A young, lonely single mom just trying to survive in a world that hadn’t been all that kind to her. Regardless of her circumstances, she had still been hopeful and optimistic for her and her daughter’s future. Where did it go wrong? What happened to take it all away?
“Why were you down at Deer Creek alone in the middle of the night with your baby, Hannah? Who were you meeting there?” Kimberley asked out loud as if she thought Hannah would answer her from beyond the grave.
There was silence aside from the sound of the wind. Kimberley ran past a couple of outbuildings on the property. She wasn’t sure what was in each of them, but she presumed some sort of farming equipment. In a building ahead of her, Kimberley could see someone moving around, shadowlike. She slowed her running to a jog and then to a fast-paced walk, creeping closer. A door slid closed behind them as they exited a wooden structure that looked like an old shed. Kimberley got closer and closer, keeping the figure in her line of sight. She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized it was Wyatt. Dressed in a dirty white tee and torn up jeans, he looked tired.
Kimberley closed the distance between him and her, and as soon as he noticed her, his eyes widened as if he were startled. He quickly picked up his cell phone and started talking.
She waved as she approached him. Instead of returning her greeting, he pointed at his phone indicating he was on a call. Kimberley stopped in her tracks and bent over, trying to catch her breath. She was just a few yards from him and thought he’d finish up the call quickly to chat with her. Wyatt had something else in mind. He kept the phone pressed to his ear and walked away from her toward the farmhouse, leaving Kimberley standing alone.
Kimberley scrunched up her face and watched him. He looked back once, but quickly turned away as soon as their eyes met. He didn’t seem like he was on a call, she thought. It looked more like an excuse to not talk to her. Wyatt had been like that with her since she arrived, and she wasn’t sure why he’d been so taciturn. He almost seemed to be going out of his way to avoid her. Kimberley shook her head and walked toward the cottage, hoping she’d get answers out of Emily at dinner.
19
Dressed in dark blue jeans and a black top, Kimberley walked up the steps of the oversized farmhouse. She considered going right in like she was family, and she basically was, but she didn’t feel that way yet. Emily had been welcoming, but Wyatt’s coldness made her wary. Instead, she knocked on the screen door. It was old and wobbly, so it banged against the door frame louder than she had intended.
“Come in,” Emily yelled from inside.
Kimberley hesitated for a moment as she hadn’t been in the home yet, which she found odd. After all, she’d been living on the property for nearly a week. But she did as Emily asked and walked into the farmhouse. Inside, a large wooden staircase went to the upstairs, with a hallway beside it heading back into the home. Kimberley peeked her head to the right where there was a large front room with a couple of couches and chairs all set around a wide coffee table. The design was simple, mostly whites and blues with tan hardwood walls and floors, which appeared to be original to the home’s creation. Very stylish for a simple farmhouse. To the left was the living room. It looked similar to the front room, except all the furniture was facing a large-screen television in the far corner. She slipped off her shoes.
Jack and Tom came thundering down the stairs, little Jack two steps behind Tom. They were all smiles, dressed in pajamas and slippers.
“Hi, Aunt Kimberley,” Tom said as he reached the bottom of the stairs.
Kimberley’s eyes went wide hearing the word “Aunt” in front of her name. Emily must have told the boys to call her that.
“Aunt Kimberley, when is Jessica gonna be strong enough to stay home on the farm with us?” Jack asked, still coming down the stairs.
Tom ran to her, wrapping his arms around her waist for a hug. Jack joined in the hug as soon as his feet hit the landing. It was unexpected. Kimberley patted the boys back.
“Just a few years, and then I’m sure she’ll be too strong for daycare,” Kimberley said with a smile as they pulled away.
Emily peaked her head out from down the hallway. “You two be good for Grandma,” she warned.
“We’re always good,” Tom said with a grin.
“Yeah, Mommy. I’m gooder than Tom,” Jack said.
“No, I am.”
“No, me.”
“Neither of you are being good right now. Now get over to your grandma’s. She’s expecting you.” Emily shooed them off.
“Bye, Mom. Bye, Aunt Kimberley,” Tom said, throwing open the screen door and running down the steps of the porch.
“Bye, Mommy. Bye, Aunt Kimberley.” Jack took off after him.
“Thank goodness they’re gone,” Emily said with a smile. “Come on.” She beckoned with her hand, disappearing back into the kitchen.
Kimberley walked down the hallway, following the strong, aromatic smell of pepper and garlic. The hallway led right into the kitchen and dining room, appearing to be the only thing that had been updated in the home. It was large and spacious, with a white-tile backsplash above the wooden countertops. An island sat in the middle and a rectangle table large enough to seat ten was placed in the center of the open-concept dining room and kitchen.
Emily stood at the island counter, a floral apron wrapped around her. Her hair was tied back, and her lips were pink and had a sheen, like she had just applied lip gloss. She smiled widely at Kimberley and walked around the counter to give her a hug.
“I’m glad we could do this,” Emily said, embracing Kimberley’s stiff body.
She wasn’t used to people hu
gging her, and it caught her off guard. But she still managed to give a sort of half hug, half pat on the back.
“Let me get you a drink.” Emily walked to a cupboard next to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of red wine. “You like merlot?”
“I’m not picky,” Kimberley said, looking around the kitchen.
There were already two place settings at the table, and she knew dinner was almost ready. She could smell it as soon as she walked in. She wasn’t sure what Emily had cooked, but whatever it was, she was sure it was delicious. In the little bit of time Kimberley had known Emily, she had already picked up on the fact that Emily was a perfectionist.
Emily uncorked the bottle and poured two wine glasses, emptying the bottle between the both of them.
“Here you are.” She handed the overfilled glass to Kimberley.
She took it carefully so as not to spill.
“Cheers.” Emily held her glass up. “To new friends.”
They clinked the glasses together and took a drink. Kimberley finished her sip, while Emily guzzled a third of the glass.
“Why don’t you have a seat. Food is just about ready.”
“Can I help with anything?”
“Sure, uncork another bottle of wine for the table.”
Kimberley thought she was kidding for a second, but quickly realized she wasn’t when Emily arched an eyebrow. She grabbed another bottle of wine from the cabinet, uncorked it and set it on the table. Emily opened the oven, pulling out a perfectly cooked roast surrounded by carrots, green beans, and cut-up potatoes. It looked as though it should have been photographed for a cookbook. Kimberley gave a small smile, expecting nothing less from this old-fashioned housewife.
Within ten minutes, they were sitting at the dining-room table with plates of warm food in front of them and freshly poured glasses of wine, already working on the second bottle.
Kimberley sliced through the roast with a butter knife. Juices pooled around it and the meat practically fell apart. Emily opting for butter knives rather than steak knives showed how confident she was in her cooking. As soon as it hit the inside of her mouth, the meat melted: a perfectly seasoned, perfectly cooked roast.
