Pretty Girls Die Last
Page 13
Last year, Barrett went undercover in the Coalesce sex cult to bring Martha and Sebastian Wolcott to justice. The brother and sister team were inveigling rich young girls into the sex cult for money. Once inside the cult, girls were molested, abused, starved, and branded. Sebastian Wolcott was murdered in prison and his sister Martha was murdered by her former lover, Abby Vale, who was eventually found responsible for the murder of at least six women. Vale escaped last year and has evaded arrest until now. Vale is being held without bail.
Freya Barrett, a college student, reporter for the Beacon and a soon to be author of her new book, Agatha Falls, has resided locally since moving to town at the age of twelve. Her parents, Rita and David were killed by a drunk driver when Barrett was sixteen. She has one older sibling, a brother Jake who owns a local contracting and home remodeling business. Barrett attends Claremont College and is journalism major with a minor in psychology.
She begins a nationwide book tour in April to promote her first book, Agatha Falls based on her experience in exposing the Coalesce cult and revealing the murder plot behind high school student, Joey Taylor’s strangulation. The amateur sleuth has great crime solving abilities and according to FBI Special Agent Margo Bent, “Freya Barrett would make a hell of an FBI agent. Journalism’s gain is the FBI’s loss.”
Barrett is single and shares a home with her cat Dexter. Right now, according to Barrett, “Dex is the only man in my life.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
A week passed since the night Abby Vale showed up at Freya’s house unannounced and in disguise. The woman, once blond haired and blue eyed now sported short dark hair with blunt bangs and dark brown eyes, courtesy of contact lenses. If Freya passed her on the street, she’d never have recognized her. No wonder Abby was so successful at evading law enforcement – she had transformed herself into a different person. But the voice was the same. Freya knew it as soon as she heard the soft, melodic voice. It was Abby.
Now, the FBI had her and according to Freya, good riddance. She was done with the murderous fiend and just wanted to get on with her life. Her motto, Go Forward, served her well. Freya had the capacity to handle extremely stressful situations and then go on to something else immediately. Maybe, Margo Bent was right about her, maybe she was meant to be in law enforcement herself. But, she’d miss writing and felt compelled sometimes to just sit down and write. After the writing frenzy hit, she wrote until she felt empty and then afterwards she felt cleansed. Writing was cathartic for her. She couldn’t imagine her life without it.
Last night, she’d stayed up late to watch a movie about J.D. Salinger. The recluse took to his cabin in New Hampshire to write stories well into old age but refused to publish them. This confounded his publisher and when asked why he wrote at all if he did not intend to see his latest work in print, he’d answered sincerely. He said he wrote just to write. He found joy in the process of writing and storytelling. When the story was finished to his satisfaction, that was enough for him. He didn’t write to be published, he wrote because of his pure love of writing itself.
Freya understood. She didn’t care if anyone read her book or even liked it. She knew it was good. Her confidence in her ability would not be shaken by the petty criticisms of others who could never write a book. She thought to herself, if they think writing a book is easy, than do it. But, she knew in her heart, they never would. Writing a book is about so much more than actual writing. It’s planning, organization, research, and discipline. Especially allowing oneself the time to build a plot, create characters, and keep the reader engaged. Not everyone could do that. Not everyone could write.
She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and answered it. It was Lorna. She was on her way to Freya’s house. Their first dress fitting was today and she could tell Lorna was anxious. Freya made a point of not having had any breakfast that morning. She heard her stomach grumble and thought about their planned lunch at Five Guys after the fitting. They’d pig put afterwards and Five Guys was the place to do just that.
Freya, not normally a meat eater, would order a cheese burger and fries. The fries were soft and went well with either white vinegar or ketchup. The restaurant had opened recently in town to great fanfare and the manger had bragged that they earned over $16,000 in its opening day. For a town the size of Agatha Falls, that was quite a feat.
Freya heard a horn honk and looked out her front window. It was Lorna. Freya threw on her coat, grabbed her bag and yelled out, “Bye Dexter, I love you,” and locked her front door.
The girls were off and soon the conversation turned to all things bridal. Lorna had transformed into a bridezilla. She told everyone she met she was being married and wasted no time in letting everyone else know that the wedding was ‘her day.’ Freya never had a sister so she obliged the older girl.
They arrived at Penelope’s Bridal a little early. Lorna’s seven other bridesmaids and her maid of honor traveled to Agatha Falls from all over the country, some as far away as Oregon. Freya was happy to have been chosen as a bridesmaid and looked forward to meeting the other girls.
They entered the bridal salon and were immediately greeted by Patty, the salon’s owner. She greeted them warmly with a hug and ushered the girls out back to the dressing area. Lorna had previously arranged that her bridal party would be the only one there that day. Patty agreed since the party was so large. Ten women in a dressing room large enough for three at the most was challenging to say the least. But as the girls arrived, a few at a time, the fittings went surprisingly well.
Lorna had chosen a color scheme of dusty blue and blush for the bridesmaid dresses. The style was A-line with a dusty blue chiffon skirt with beaded matching sweetheart top and long chiffon sleeves. The style was flattering and the color brought out the best features in all the girls, who were varied in their complexions and hair colors. From black haired and brown eyed to red haired and blue eyed to blond haired and green eyed, the dusty blue color complemented them all.
The girls were relieved when they saw the dresses. Many had been bridesmaids before and as any bridesmaid will tell you, the bride often chooses the ugliest dresses so she will stand out as the loveliest on the wedding day. But Lorna was not like that. The bouquets would be blush with periwinkle blue flowers and their shoes a matching dusty blue.
Lorna’s dress was yet to be seen. She was saving it until today to reveal it to her friends. As she emerged from behind the curtain in her trumpet mermaid V-neck court train tulle lace wedding dress, her bridal party was in awe. There were gasps, a few OMG’s! and eventually clapping as all the girls were unanimous in their admiration for the dress. Freya couldn’t believe a wedding gown could be so beautiful and felt suddenly sad because she secretly feared that she would never have the chance to wear one of her own. But, she pushed those thoughts aside since this was her friend’s day. She smiled with the other girls and no one would have known that she was hurting inside.
All that was left was to choose a veil for the bride. After an hour of trying on short veils and long veils, a medium length veil with a beaded tiara head dress was chosen. The bridal party took pics of each other on their cell phones promising not to share with the groom and then the group left for lunch.
They arrived at Five Guys to find that it was busy as usual. Freya heard someone from behind the counter shout, ‘number 86 please, number 86’ and she knew they were in for a long wait. Thankfully, there were some vacant tables and the girls grabbed them and sat down before anyone else could take them. Freya sat down so quickly she almost fell down. She heard laughter and turned around to see some familiar faces. It was Anya and Arielle. She smiled when she saw them. She hadn’t seen the girls since before Brandon died. She asked how they were doing.
“You haven’t heard the latest then?” asked Anya.
Freya nodded. “No, what happened?”
“Mike Chancellor is dead. He hanged himself last night in the jail. He left a note and admitted that he and Brandon both lured young girls t
o their parties, drugged them and raped them. But, he said he and Brandon were not murderers and he did not kill Brandon. Mike said he was set up.”
Freya said nothing for a moment. Not murderers? Then who did kill Sydney Sanders? Was there a killer still on the loose? Why would the boy admit to rape but not murder?
“What do you guys think? Do you think Brandon and Mike murdered Sydney?”
The girls looked at each other and both shook their heads. Arielle spoke for the both of them.
“Brandon was sick. And he was probably a sociopath too. But how would he know that Sydney and Logan had a date that night and they would stop at Raven’s Pond? It’s so far out of town and no one goes there anymore. The only way they’d know is if they were already there waiting for them and then that would mean either Sydney or Logan told them. Why would they do that?”
Why would they indeed?
Arielle went on to explain that she was moving to Minneapolis with her dad. He was engaged to marry his girlfriend. They were leaving at the end of the school year, so she had the next few months to say good bye to her friends. Freya could tell the girl wasn’t happy so she shared her own experience of having to move to a new town at just about her age. She was honest. It wasn’t easy. But she could Skype and there was social media. The girl eventually seemed lighter in mood and Freya hugged her and Anya.
Before she walked away, Anya grabbed her and whispered something in her ear. She heard what the girl said and looked her in the eye. Anya nodded. Freya squeezed her arm and walked over to the counter to give her order. She went back and sat down with the bridal party but a wedding was the last thing on her mind. If what Anya had told her was true, Agatha Falls had a killer still out there. Freya considered her next move. She had to be careful. By time she had finished eating her lunch she had a plan. Now all she needed was a little help from a friend. She pulled her cell phone out of her bag and texted them. They answered back almost instantly. Her plan was too long and involved to explain in a text. She told them that she’d be by soon to explain everything. They agreed and she turned her attention back to the bridal party who was now having a heated discussion about centerpieces.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“What did you whisper in her ear?”
Anya responded to Arielle’s question but not truthfully. She had an idea who the killer might be and knew that if anyone could find out for sure, it was Freya. Anya was an observer of people and their reactions. She loved to people watch. Recently, she had a conversation with someone that knew something about Syd’s murder that they couldn’t possibly have known unless they were there that night in the woods when she and her friends went looking for Sydney. If that person were there, they must have had something to do with her death. Maybe they were the one who killed her. As much as she hated Brandon and Mike, she didn’t think they were killers after all. Rapists, drug users, liars and cheaters, but not murderers. Since both boys were dead now, the real killer might relax. They might think they were in the clear. Now was the perfect time to catch them. If anyone could do that, it was Freya Barrett.
Anya finished her hamburger and threw the wrapper in the trash. She grabbed Arielle’s hand and pulled her outside. She was losing her best friend in six months. First Syd and now Arielle. She wanted to spend as much time with her friend as possible. Now that gymnastics was over for the season, Arielle had plenty of free time.
“Hey, I’ve got an idea, come over to my house and we can binge watch 13 Reasons Why. I know your dad won’t let you watch that. He thinks it’ll teach you how to commit suicide.”
The girls took off on their bikes toward Anya’s home. Anya had another reason for wanting to keep Arielle busy for the next few hours. She wanted to give Freya time to follow up on her lead. And she knew once Arielle found out, she’d probably never speak to her again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Freya asked Lorna to drop her off at her home and then she drove her Ford Escape directly to the police department. Ramirez was waiting for her. Freya told her the plan and Ramirez liked it but suggested they get back up. This person may try to run and they needed to make sure they didn’t.
They drove directly to Wainsbridge Academy and asked for the student by name. He was in the gymnasium. Even though school was out on Christmas break, he had special permission to use the gym for fencing practice. Freya and Ramirez entered the gym and found him wearing the white protective clothing and mask that obscured his face. A white jacket, underarm protector, a body and mask cords, knee socks, gloves, and knickers completed the ensemble. He ignored the women and continued to thrust his foil forward into the air.
Freya had tried fencing once in high school and found the sport to be difficult. She recognized the foil, a light thrusting weapon with a maximum weight of 500 grams. The foil targeted the torso, but not the arms or the legs. He threw the foil aside and picked up the epee, a thrusting weapon like the foil but much heavier at 750 grams. In epee, the entire body is a valid target. He turned around and faced the women. They stopped where they stood, about ten feet from him.
“Logan Bell?” asked Detective Ramirez. “We’d like to question you about the death of Sydney Sanders. We’re here to take you to the police station. I’ve notified your father. He’s meeting us there.”
Logan remained in place; the epee still thrust forward pointing towards both women. Ramirez placed her right hand on her holstered weapon.
“Mr. Bell, I won’t ask you again. You need to come with us to the police station. If you don’t come willingly, I will arrest you. Is that what you want to happen?”
Suddenly without warning, the boy thrust his weapon forward and ran toward Ramirez. His epee pierced her abdomen and she screamed in pain. Freya looked on in shock. Blood spurted from Ramirez’s wound as the woman sank to the floor. The masked figure looked at Freya, tilted his head like a dog, and then ran toward her with his epee pointing straight out. Freya ran around him in a frenzy. She screamed.
“Help! Help!”
The boy followed her as she ran toward the exit. She ran for her life. As clichéd as it sounded, her life flashed before her eyes. She saw her mom raking leaves, her dad teaching her how to ice skate and her brother diving into their old swimming pool back in Chicago.
Suddenly, two strong arms caught her, lifted her in the air, and swung her around. She landed on her feet. It all happened so fast! She couldn’t see who lifted her but heard a whacking sound. She turned around to see where the noise came from.
Logan was on the floor face down and Duke was straddling him and cuffing him from behind. Two other officers ran into the gymnasium to check on the fallen detective. Freya ran over and ripped off his face mask. The young handsome face came into view. It was Logan, after all. Freya hating believing it but Anya was right.
“You killed Sydney!”
He said nothing. But Freya was not done.
“You drowned her, didn’t you? Why? She loved you. She was only 13 years old for God’s sake. Why would you do that?”
“Because she was going to tell! She was going to ruin everything. I tried to get her to stop but she wouldn’t listen. She never listened to me!”
He said nothing more and Duke read him his Miranda rights, picked him up, and walked him out to the waiting police car.
Freya ran back into the gym and saw Ramirez sitting up. She was still bleeding. Freya sat with her until the ambulance came and rode with her to Mercy Regional. Neither woman spoke. Right now, Freya just wanted Ramirez to be okay. She thought of her little girl. Freya lost her mother at sixteen and that was hard enough. The paramedics wheeled the sketcher into the Emergency Department and past the triage area. Freya sank into the first seat she saw in the waiting area. She texted Duke and waited.
An hour passed before Freya even saw a nurse again. Finally, one approached her and asked if she was Freya Barrett. Freya said yes and the nurse asked her to come with her. Freya followed her into the acute area of the Emergency Department. She walked down
the hall to Room 8 and knocked.
“Dianna, it’s Linda, may I come in? I have Ms. Barrett with me.”
Freya heard a voice say yes and the door was opened to reveal Dianna Ramirez sitting up in a hospital bed with her torso covered in bandages. She was attached to an IV and was on her cell phone. It was obvious she was speaking to her daughter.
“Yes, I’m fine. And I’ll be home tomorrow morning. So, you get to sleep over at Tracey’s house. Now, be a good girl, brush your teeth, and say your prayers. Okay? I love you too, munchkin. Can you put Tracey on?” Ramirez spoke with her baby sitter for a few moments longer and then ended the conversation.
“Sorry about that. I had to make sure I had someone to watch my daughter tonight.”
Ramirez explained the extent of her injuries. The weapon had just missed her liver. She was very lucky. Other than that, her wound was superficial. They were keeping her overnight for observation but advised her to have an EKG in the meantime due to her history of arrhythmia. She was waiting for the results of the EKG.
She shared with Freya that she’d spoken to Duke and he and the sheriff were waiting to question Logan. His father and a family attorney had been contacted but not arrived at the station. The woman spoke for a few more minutes and then they heard a knock on the door.
“Come in.”
The door opened and Dr. Marsha Sanders entered. She was smiling and holding a file in her hand. Her smile disappeared when she saw Freya. For a moment, Freya felt uncomfortable. She knew when to take a hint.