by Willow Rose
Katie watched the swampy marshland as they drove towards the water, looking to see if she could spot an alligator somewhere, since everyone said there were alligators in all waterholes in Florida. Until now, she hadn’t seen any. A couple of cows were eating grass behind a fence, but that was hardly spectacular. An armadillo had been hit by a car and was lying on the side of the road. Big billboards told her Ron Jon’s, the world largest surf shop, wasn’t far away. Katie wasn’t very fond of the ocean or the beach. She hated to get sandy, and certainly didn’t enjoy the way she looked in a bikini. Yet, she had still found herself shopping for a new one for the trip after Greg had asked her to come along. She didn’t exactly look forward to showing off her winter-pale pillars of legs. Not when she was going to be next to those long-legged beauties and the Barbie-doll. Katie was short and slightly overweight. She wasn’t so sure Greg would enjoy that sight. She had bought a long beach-dress that she could wear to cover herself up until she could lay down in the sand. The worst part was walking or standing. Lying on a towel, she could do.
“We’re here!” Greg exclaimed.
Katie looked out the window and spotted the sign. “Motel Albert’s?” she mumbled. It sounded like the motel from a horror movie. Psycho. What was the name of that motel again?
Bates. That’s it Bates Motel.
“A boy's best friend is his mother,” she said with a scary pretend-chuckle, as she exited the van and looked at the front of the old motel that looked like it had been built in the sixties, with the red Motel sign on top. Greg smiled and looked at her.
“We’re going to have so much fun here,” he said.
Chapter Nine
March 2015
Stanley Bradley felt sick to his stomach. He sat up in the darkness, leaned to the side, and threw up. He had no idea where it landed, but didn’t care either. It was so dark, and all he cared about was the fact that he felt terrible. Not until a lot later, when the worst nausea had subsided, did he start to wonder where he was. The realization hit him like a blow to his face.
“Elyse,” he whispered into the darkness. Where was Elyse? She had been with him. They had been at Disney World. Then what? They had walked back to the car in the parking lot. The car had been parked by Pluto, he remembered randomly for some ridiculous reason. They had driven out from there. They had been in the countryside, singing…yes, they had been singing one of Elyse’s favorite songs. What was the name of it again? The one from Frozen? How did it go again?
The cold never bothered me anyway.
Yes, that was one of the lines, Elyse’s favorite line in the song. Let it go, was the title of the song.
Then what? What had happened? Where was he now? Where was Elyse?
The car. Something happened to the car. There was something in the road. Something that made the car drive off the road. The tires punctured, he remembered. The car screeched; Elyse was screaming. Then what? Then it all went black.
There was a sound in the room; it sounded like a door opened, the light was turned on, and Stanley covered his eyes.
“Oh, good, you’re awake,” a voice said.
“Where am I?” Stanley asked with a trembling voice. “Where is Elyse? Where is my granddaughter?”
As his eyes got used to the light, he realized he was looking directly into the barrel of a gun. He gasped and fell back into the bed.
“Now, lay still, Mr. Bradley,” the voice said. “It’s for your own good. You hurt yourself badly in the accident.”
Stanley looked into the barrel with his heart pounding in his chest. “Am…are you holding me prisoner here?”
“You can call it whatever you like,” the voice replied. Something was put in his hands. It was a plate of food.
Stanley stared at the steak and potatoes with thick gravy. It looked delicious, but he still felt nauseated.
“I’m not hungry. I demand to know what happened to my granddaughter.”
“Eat,” the voice said adamantly. The gun was pushed closer to his face. “Eat or your granddaughter dies.”
Eat or your granddaughter dies? What kind of an ultimatum was that? How was that threatening?
Stanley shrugged, then grabbed the knife and fork and started eating. As he sunk his teeth into the steak, he realized he was actually quite hungry, and this was good meat. The potatoes were slightly overcooked for his liking, but he ate them anyway, while this strange person kept staring at him while holding the gun.
“It’s quite good,” he said, still wondering why this person wanted him to eat so badly. Was something in the food? Stanley stopped chewing. What if it was poisoned?
“Finish it.”
“What’s in the food?” he asked.
“Just eat it.”
Thinking he’d better obey this mad personage, he finished the plate. The plate was removed, but only for a few seconds before another one landed in his lap. Spaghetti and meatballs.
“Now, eat this.”
“I’m stuffed. I really can’t eat any more,” Stanley said. “It smells great, but I really can’t…”
The cold gun was placed to his temple. “Eat.”
Chapter Ten
March 2015
I was the proudest dad in the entire cafeteria. My twins were both up on the stage holding their recognition awards for hard work. Austin in Math and Abigail in Reading. I knew they had both been struggling in those subjects, and to see them up there so proud for having reached their goals, made my heart overflow with pride. Usually, they mostly got themselves in a lot of trouble at school, and more than once I had been called by the teacher, Mrs. Allen, telling me they weren’t behaving well. To see them getting an award, shaking the hand of the principal, almost brought tears to my eyes. Finally, they were doing something right.
I grabbed my camera and took what must have been a thousand photos, while everyone from the class who had received an award was lined up with the teacher. Austin was poking his sister in the side, and then she hit him on the shoulder. Austin squealed and hit her back. Abigail pushed him in return. Meanwhile, the teacher tried hard to smile behind them. I looked at them from above the camera. Austin grabbed Abigail’s reward and threw it on the ground. Abigail ran after it and tripped. Now she was crying. The principal looked at Mrs. Allen for help. Mrs. Allen hurriedly got the kids off the stage.
At least it lasted long enough for me to get a picture. It might be a while before they received another, I thought to myself. Their grandparents were going to be so proud.
I was packing the camera away when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I picked it up. It was Shannon. I walked into the hallway, while waving at my kids who were being dragged back to their classroom. I still had water in my ear from this morning’s surfing.
“Hi there. I was just thinking about you. I saw Angela in the cafeteria. She seemed happy. I think she already made some friends in her class.”
“That’s good,” Shannon said, distraught. I could tell by the sound of her voice that something was going on.
“What’s wrong?”
“I…I got this weird email. I think you need to take a look at it.”
I looked at my watch. I had told Ron I would be in later today because of the award ceremony. We had a double stabbing last week that we were finishing the investigation of. A girl and her grandfather had been attacked in their apartment by a homeless guy. The grandfather died from his wounds. The guy was in custody and had admitted to doing it, even though he said he couldn’t remember much, since he was completely doped up. But the granddaughter that survived was a very strong witness to the events. It was a pretty easy case, but a lot of paperwork. Sheriff Ron had finally assigned me a new partner, Bethany, or Beth, and we had some good teamwork going on. But I was in no rush. I wasn’t in a hurry to get to the office, so I guessed I could take a few minutes to meet up with Shannon. I took any chance I could get to see her.
“Sure. Do you want to meet up for coffee at Juice N’ Java?”
“I can’t deal wi
th photographers or fans taking pictures with their cellphones right now,” she said.
She made it sound very serious. I had no coffee at my place, and I didn’t have much time.
“All right,” I said. “Let’s meet at the bar at the motel in five minutes. My mom makes a pretty mean cup of Joe.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
We hung up. I was thrilled at the prospect of getting to see Shannon and sprang for my Jeep in the school’s parking lot. Three minutes later, I was at my parents’ motel.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” my mom said. She was cleaning the counters in the bar.
“I’m meeting Shannon here,” I said. I threw a glance around the room. It was empty. The bar usually didn’t open till noon. “Where is Dad?”
“He’s taking a nap,” my mom said.
I spotted a table in the corner. “We’ll just sit over there,” I said. “Do you have any coffee?”
She gave me that are-you-kidding-me look that only a mother can do. “What do you mean, do I have coffee? Of course I have coffee.”
I chuckled. “Good. Could Shannon and I have a cup each? She uses milk, but no sugar…”
“And you like both in yours.”
Shannon had entered the bar and walked up to me. My heart skipped a beat from looking at her. I couldn’t believe I still got that feeling when looking at her, even this long after we’d started seeing each other. But I couldn’t help myself. Being around her made me feel good.
Chapter Eleven
March 2015
“So, what’s going on?”
I looked into Shannon’s eyes over the steam of my coffee. She sipped hers and looked away. Something was definitely bothering her.
“You said something about an email?”
Shannon inhaled, and then looked at me. “Don’t hate me.”
“Hate you? How could I ever hate you?” I asked, shocked at the character of her statement. How could she ever think I could hate her? “I love you,” I said. Shannon widened her eyes. My heart stopped. It had just burst out of me. I had never told her I loved her before. I didn’t even realize I did.
Was it too soon? Was I going to scare her away?
Shannon smiled. Her eyes hit the table and she blushed. I felt a huge relief.
“Well, there is no beating around the bush with you, Detective, huh?” she said, chuckling lightly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that…I…”
She placed her hand on top of mine. “It’s okay, Jack.” She looked into my eyes. “I think I love you too.”
The words completely blew me away. I felt so happy I could scream.
“But that’s not why I told you to meet me,” she continued with a serious voice. “You might have to rethink everything after you hear what I have to say.”
Uh-oh. That sounded really bad.
“You’re scaring me a little here, Shannon,” I said and sipped my coffee. “What’s going on?”
“There is something I’ve never told anyone. Something I should have told when it happened…but I was just so…” She stopped. Shannon bit her lip. I could tell this was hard for her. It freaked me out a little.
What could be so bad?
“Nothing you can say will make me feel differently,” I said. “Whatever it is, we will figure it out…together. Just tell me everything from the beginning.”
Shannon sighed. “I got this email today,” she said, and showed me her phone. “I think it’s from a fan.”
“What does it say?”
Shannon read it out loud to me. Her voice was trembling.
“Dear Shannon King. I am so sorry. I am sorry for what I am about to do. I want you to know how much you inspire me. Your songs make me understand who I really am; they encourage me to follow my dreams. I am sure you had to do bad things too to make it to the top as well. I am just doing what must be done. I hope you understand. Yours truly AM”
I looked at Shannon. She lifted her eyes from the screen and showed me the email, so I could see for myself.
“But, what does it mean? I’m not sure I understand,” I said.
“Me either. I didn’t understand it either the first time this person wrote to me, so I ignored it. Biggest mistake of my life. I have regretted it ever since.”
“So, it’s not the first time this person has written to you?”
Shannon shook her head and sipped some coffee. She ran a hand through her hair. Her face was strained.
“Couldn’t it just be some lunatic? You must get a lot of those, don’t you?”
“I do. But this one is different.”
“How is it different? It doesn’t even make sense,” I said. “I really don’t think it’s anything to worry about. Why are you freaking out over this?”
Shannon leaned over the table. “Because the last time I got an email from this person, eight people were shot in a movie theater north of Miami. Four of them died.”
I leaned back in my chair. I was confused. “You mean to tell me this email came from the Miami movie theater killer six years ago?”
“I believe it does. I received the exact same email six years ago, right before the shooter killed all those people.”
“But, couldn’t that just be a coincidence?” I asked.
“No. I’m sure about this, Jack. He’s about to do it again.” Shannon’s voice was trembling again.
“As far as I remember, the man was caught. He killed himself,” I said.
“I know. I thought it was over too. But now I receive this? What if that was the wrong guy? What if the killer has been on the loose all this time? I’m telling you, Jack. This email is just like the last time. This is exactly how it went down last time. That’s what happened six years ago. He sent me all these emails in the days before it happened, telling me how sorry he was, then one email after it was done, telling me it was him. Asking for my forgiveness. I never heard from him again. Until now.”
“And, you’re telling me you never told anyone about this?” I asked. “Not even the police?”
Shannon shook her head. “I am not proud of it. But I was just starting out. I was at the beginning of my career and terrified it would be the end of it. I had just gotten my breakthrough. I was a hit. I was afraid it would destroy me. I showed it to my manager at the time. It wasn’t Bruce. I had another manager back then. I showed it to him afterwards. When I realized it was serious. At first, I thought it was some nutcase writing me, some sick stalker or something. I had been warned that I would get a lot of those and told to just ignore them. But back then, I read everything, all the fan-mail I got, since I was so proud to be getting any. I got so much junk. I didn’t know it was connected to the shootings until it was too late. My manager told me to never tell anyone. It wouldn’t help the victims or anything, he said. I was young and stupid and I listened to him. Like I said, I’m not proud of this, but now I feel like I need to tell you.”
“Well, I’m glad you finally did,” I said.
“You’re angry. I knew you would be. I’m sorry. I can’t change what I did back then, but I can do something about it now.”
“I’m not angry. Like I said, I’m pretty sure the guy is dead.”
I knew she hadn’t meant to harm anyone. As a detective, it was hard for me to swallow this news. But as a boyfriend and someone who loved Shannon, I chose to be understanding. I put my hand on top of hers and smiled.
“I’m glad you came to me with this,” I said. “I’m sure it’s nothing, but I’ll look into it for you, if that will make you more at ease. Now, tell me. Do you still have those old emails?”
Shannon sighed and shook her head. “I deleted them immediately afterwards. My old manager told me to. There was to be no trace of this, he said. If the press ever hacked into my email or someone got access to it somehow, there could be no trace of this, he said.”
“And, of course, you listened to him,” I said.
This left us with very little to go by.
Chapter Twelve
December 2003
When Elizabeth turned one year old, she still showed no interest in food. She would take the bottle rarely and hadn’t started on real food yet. Even though her mother tried to feed her every day, three meals a day, like the pediatrician had told her to. At Elizabeth’s first birthday, they threw her a party like they had done for the rest of the girls at that age. Dottie even made a big cake and put one candle in the middle.
She carried it to the table as they sang. Elizabeth clapped her small hands and blew out the candle, and her mother started to cut the cake. They had invited a couple of kids from the playground that they often met when they went there in the afternoons, and then all of her mothers group. All eyes were on the spectacular cake and on Dottie, as she passed the pieces of cake around the table. The kids all dug in, except for Elizabeth. As usual when served food, she merely stared at all the others while they ate without showing any interest whatsoever in her own food.
“Here, let me help you,” Dottie said and sunk the fork into the chocolate cake. Her hand was shaking as she brought the fork up to Elizabeth’s mouth. She knew in her heart the mouth would remain closed, and so it did. Elizabeth tightened her lips and moved her head away. Dottie felt awful. All of the other moms were looking at her, and she knew what they thought. Elizabeth was so tiny; she knew they all blamed her for not feeding her enough.
“Come on, baby. It’s cake. Everyone loves cake. Look at your friends, huh? Just try it, will you?”
But the mouth remained closed. The tiny girl, who was less than half the size of her friends at that age, simply refused to take in solid food. It had started to wear on her parents. Other than with food, Elizabeth was the easiest child Dottie had ever had. She was so sweet, so gentle, and she never cried. But she wasn’t developing fast enough. She still hadn’t started to crawl, while all of her little friends were constantly all over the place, and their parents after them; Elizabeth simply sat still and watched them. Well, she didn’t even sit much, couldn’t even sit on her own yet, which worried Dottie a lot. At this age, she should at least be able to sit on her own and roll. Elizabeth could do neither. When sitting in her high chair, they put pillows behind her back to keep her upright. Her body remained this floppy mass that didn’t seem to do much. Was she ever going to crawl? Walk? Cry? Eat?
