by Nolon King
“My dad would be so pissed if he found out I was pregnant. But Mom was looking forward to being a grandma.” Katie took a sip of her soda. “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Carry on after you lose everyone?” Then the finer point and more difficult question. “How did you do it after you lost your daughter?”
For a moment, Mal was surprised Katie knew about Ashley, but then she remembered all the headlines. Local and national news — Cop’s Daughter Murdered, Cop Kidnapped by Daughter’s Murderer, Paul Dodd Killed After Kidnapping Cop and Jessi Price.
Did Katie also know she’d won the lottery? If so, was this some attempt at a shakedown? Was her scumbag boyfriend involved?
But Katie displayed no signs of deception. She was just another hurt soul trying to heal from the loss of her family.
“It’s not easy. I find talking to people helps. So does a good therapist. We can find one together. I really should have done more after what happened — I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Mal took her hand. “Let me help. Maybe I don’t need to adopt you. Maybe we can get you emancipated and you can stay with me until things get sorted. Finish school, take some college courses or something. I want to help.”
“Where would I stay?”
“I have a house with plenty of room, but for now I can share my hotel room.”
“Why are you staying in a hotel?”
“It was tough going back to my house after Ashley died. But after I take care of a couple things, we can go back there. You can have your own room.”
Mal didn’t tell her the real reason she was offering her room for now was because of Jasper’s prediction about the killer coming after her. A killer was far less likely to find her hotel, especially since she switched rooms last month and wasn’t booked under her name.
“You want me to make some calls? I’ll need to talk with your foster family. Even if they’re dicks, we should at least let them know things are okay.”
Katie considered it for a few moments before finally nodding. “Okay. Thank you.”
Mal wanted to seal the deal with a hug, but the girl was still scared and defensive.
She’d be better down the road. And maybe Mal would stop being a hypocrite, craving pills while trying to help another soul stitch her life back together.
Chapter 32 - Howard Loomis
Howard pulled into the driveway, his will to what had been asked of him suddenly replaced by a shaky uncertainty.
“Are you sure this is the only way?” he asked Mister K.
“She mocked you on TV and ruined our work. The woman must be taught.”
“Are you sure this is how?”
“This is how you get her attention and respect. This is how you prove to me you are worthy of the knowledge.”
“But …” Howard looked through the open window at the elderly woman, nearly blind, feeding the toddler in a high chair.
Their names were unimportant. He had found them randomly last week and knew they lived alone. There was a mother in the picture, but she was too busy getting strung out on drugs with her pimp boyfriend. Howard chose them because nobody would notice them missing. He would have more time than usual, enough to set up the second phase of the plan, his true goal.
Still, this one felt wrong. The old woman had been kind, from what Howard could see.
“Her daughter wouldn’t be a drug addict whore if she wasn’t a horrible mother,” Mister K argued after reading Howard’s thoughts.
“But—”
“Sinners must repent. The guilty must see what is coming for them all.”
“But, the kid … he’s just a baby. He never did anything.”
Mister K grew angrier. Howard could see the shadows stirring violently in the back of his van. The radio’s buzzing static matched his intensity, rising to an ear-piercing scream of feedback.
Howard covered his ears, trying to drown out the sound, but there was never any escaping it before Mister K finally relented.
He stared into the back of the van once the noise finally stopped, wondering if now was the time for the entity to reveal his true form.
But of course, it wasn’t. Howard wasn’t yet worthy.
Mister K’s shadow shrank into the corner of the van as if he was about to leave again.
“No,” Howard begged. “I’ll do it.”
The darkness returned to form, hunched like a gargoyle perched atop an ancient building.
“Then go and do what you were born to do, Howard. Become greatness.”
He slipped on his gloves. Grabbed the mask, pulled it over his face. Stared into his eyes in the side mirror, barely recognizing them, then reached over to the passenger seat and curled his fist around the hammer.
Howard got out of the van, marched toward the house, then mashed his finger onto the doorbell’s illuminated button.
“Hold on …” The old lady opened the door, her security chain offering only an illusion of security. She squinted. “Hello?”
Howard shoved the door.
The chain snapped. The old woman fell back.
He swung the hammer.
A kid cried out from the kitchen.
Howard turned toward the child and raised a gloved finger to his mask.
Chapter 33 - Jasper Parish
Jasper walked the track with Jordyn, enjoying the warm sun on his skin and wondering if this would be one of the last times he reveled in the pleasure of being outside — something that had once been unremarkable and so easily taken for granted.
He found joy in the simplest pleasures while locked behind bars. Reading, a walk in the yard, playing the occasional game of spades, a few of the conversations with Wally — even if his old podmate never knew when to shut the hell up. A candy bar from the canteen held so much more joy than it ever had on the outside. But most of all, Jasper enjoyed this time with Jordyn, unencumbered by his mission, hours for them to talk and catch up.
But now, time itself was chasing him. Jasper felt death approaching.
What would happen once it finally arrived?
Would he be separated from Jordyn forever? If there was a Hell, surely he was on his way. If there was only a void, perhaps he’d be stuck there like his daughter. He wouldn’t mind it so much. But if Heaven existed, then Carissa was there.
How did she visit you before?
Maybe that was all in my head.
“What are you thinking?” Jordyn asked.
“What do you think I’m thinking?”
“Wondering what to do about Young Luther and Hernandez?”
Jasper nodded.
“You need to find a way out of here,” Jordyn said. “I know you want to be punished, but … I don’t want to lose you again.”
“They’ll put me back on the meds if I get transferred. Then I’ll lose you, anyway.”
She looked over to the opposite side of the track where Hernandez was walking past Young Luther and his crew on the weights. The man was practically glaring at them.
“I don’t think he’s going to give this up,” Jordyn said as her father sighed.
Suddenly, they had company.
Crazy Gary was walking beside them, still wearing insanity’s smile, his eyes lit like the universe was displaying its infinite pixels only for him.
“Good kid, your daughter,” he said.
Jordyn blushed.
“Thanks.” Jasper gave him a nod.
“Why are you in here?” Crazy Gary asked after a long stare.
“What do you mean? I killed people.”
“I mean, why the hell ain’t you fight it? Daughter says you had yerself a fancy lawyer and everythin’. That Kozack man beat a confession outta ya’ so they couldn’t a used that shit. They ain’t got nothin’ much for any of your crimes, that right?”
Jasper looked at his daughter, annoyed. “You telling him my entire life history?”
“I needed someone to vent to.”
“So, why you in here?” he pressed.
“Ha, is that what ya’ think?” Crazy Gary laughed.
“People need to be held accountable for their actions — including me.”
“That’s what you were doin’, man. You was holdin’ people accountable, doin’ the shit that Johnny Law wasn’t ever gonna do.”
“It wasn’t my place.”
“Bull fuckin’ shit!” His eyes narrowed on Jasper, fury at the corners.
Is this dude about to go postal?
“What are you talking about, man?”
“I don’t buy your excuses, bro.” Crazy Gary shook his head. “Nah, man. You ain’t in here to punish yo’self. You in here for somethin’ else.”
His patience was thin. Jasper traded a look with Jordyn, but she only shrugged as if to say, Sorry Dad, I didn’t know he was gonna say all this shit.
“Why do you think I’m in here, Gary?”
“You in here because you runnin’ scared.”
“Scared?”
“Dad …” Jordyn said.
But Crazy Gary kept talking, stealing Jasper’s attention. “Hell yeah, bro. You scared of being hurt. You an’ me, we see things other people don’t. That shit weighs on a man, like nobody else can ever understan’ unless they see through these eyes.” He used two fingers to point at his eyes, then Jasper’s. “We feel the pain of all them people, all those ghosts.”
Jasper wasn’t sure they had the same problems, but he wasn’t about to engage in semantics. He just wanted the conversation over and done with.
“Dad …” More urgent.
But Crazy Gary kept talking over her. “You in here ’cause you running from the pain of who you are. You need to suck it the fuck up, buttercup, and embrace that shit! Go out there and kill more motherfuckers, you feel me?”
“Dad!”
They both turned toward her.
“Something’s wrong.” Jordyn looked over at Young Luther’s group at the weights.
D’Andre was out of the hole faster than Jasper had ever seen anyone get released. Young Luther must have pulled some strings. A group of his men circled a wiry dude named Red, who bent down, his fingers rooting into the grass.
The guards hadn’t noticed.
“Looks like shit is about to go down,” Crazy Gary said, distancing himself.
Red stood, looked around, saw Hernandez on the track as two guys started pushing and shoving each other on one of the basketball courts.
Hernandez went to break it up.
Red moved toward him.
Jasper screamed, “Shiv!”
Time froze.
Hernandez looked at him, confusion clouding his face.
Jasper pointed, trying to warn him.
But the clocked had stopped for everyone but Red, still moving swiftly, shiv in hand.
Hernandez only realized it as Red buried the weapon between his ribs.
Time sped up as Red’s hand moved with surgical precision and piston-fast plunges.
Hernandez fell to the ground, bleeding out.
Red ran, passing the shiv to one of his crew before disappearing into the chaos erupting among the clash of prisoners and guards.
Jasper stared helplessly as Hernandez lay dying.
He ran toward him, thinking maybe he could stop the bleeding. But a baton to his left elbow sent Jasper sprawling to the ground.
A guard was on him.
Then, to his surprise, Muscles was on the guard, shoving him aside.
No way he’s helping me, is he?
Three guards converged on Muscles as Jasper turned back toward Hernandez. Someone he didn’t see was suddenly on him, shoving him face first into the baking asphalt.
A man’s voice said, “Stay the fuck down.”
Jasper struggled, bracing for a shiv in his ribs or back, barely managing to turn as D’Andre came at him.
Fuck, they put a green light on me too. And this cat’s about to do the job.
Jasper tried to wriggle free, but D’Andre cracked him across the skull and knocked him out instead.
Chapter 34 - Mallory Black
Mal spent most of her morning dealing with phone calls to Katie’s foster father and Carrie Thompson, trying to figure out the best way forward. Carrie suggested that since Katie wasn’t in a position to take care of herself, filing for emancipation wasn’t the best option. Carrie had her contact someone at Florida Department of Children and Families instead, suggesting that Mal get an ex parte order to be Katie’s temporary guardian until she could legally adopt her.
Mal wasn’t certain she was making the right decision, and it was all moving too fast, but the situation felt right — for both Katie and herself. The hotel was far from a permanent solution, but now Mal wasn’t sure if she wanted to return to the home where she’d raised Ashley or give them both a fresh start somewhere else.
A part of her wasn’t ready to let go. It was a house full of memories, ghosts, and nightmares. But in the end, there was more good than bad. Bringing Ashley home. Her baby’s first steps. Sitting on the couch with her late at night watching Caillou because it was the only thing that soothed her back to sleep.
Letting go of the house was like losing her daughter in a way, and Mal wasn’t sure she was ready.
Not yet.
They went to Katie’s foster house after lunch to gather her belongings. Everything fit into a sad little box, which they brought back to Mal’s new hotel room — a premium suite, with two king-sized beds, a separate living and dining area, and more than enough space for Katie and her privacy. A balcony overlooked the ocean, which Mal told her was especially stunning at night.
Katie was captivated by the whirlpool tub.
“These are great for bubble baths,” Mal said.
“I’ve never had a bubble bath,” Katie said, sipping from a glass of Coke she’d brought up from the restaurant downstairs.
“What?”
“Dad thought they were too indulgent, wasteful.”
“Then you have not truly lived. Wait in the living room, I’ll get everything ready. I’m about to change your world.”
“My world?” Playful doubt colored her face.
“Oh, yes … your world. From this point forward, your life will be remembered in terms of Before the Bubble Bath and After the Bubble Bath.”
“Wow,” Katie laughed. “Maybe we should change the calendars to ABB?”
“You mock me, but mark my words, you will come out of this a changed woman for sure.”
“Um, okay,” Katie said, still laughing as she left Mal alone in the bathroom.
She prepared her bath, dimming the lights, lighting warm vanilla candles around the tub, putting on Mozart, and grabbing the various body scrubs and brushes she rarely used herself.
“It’s ready!” Mal called out once the tub and her promise had both been filled.
“Wow, you really take this bath stuff serious.”
“Someone has to. Now get in before the water gets cold. And when you get out, I expect an apology for doubting me.”
Mal left Katie to her bath then went out to the balcony and checked her messages.
Nothing from work. She called Mike but got no answer. It was odd to feel so disconnected from the thing she had poured her life into. And Mal wasn’t ever sure what to do with herself if she wasn’t thinking about work.
This is good. I’ll devote the time to Katie. She needs me now more than work. And, seriously, fuck Sheriff Barry.
She set down her phone and stared out at the waves, then she closed her eyes and enjoyed the sun as it shined on her skin while a cool breeze whipped through her hair. Maybe Katie could help Mal remember how to appreciate some of the things she’d forgotten how to enjoy.
You think this is gonna be easy? That Katie’s magically healed because you gave her a place to stay? How long before she goes back to that asshole boyfriend or finds another loser? She doesn’t have the best record. And neither do you. How long do
you expect to last without your pills?
Mal shoved her doubt aside. She hadn’t thought much about an escape until this moment. Having something worthy of her time would keep Mal busy and give her the strength she needed. Meetings would help with the cravings.
I’ve got this.
We’ve got this.
Me, Katie, and the baby will all be fine.
The phone started ringing. Not the one in her lap, but the one in her purse on the kitchen counter. The one that belonged to a killer.
Fuck.
Mal ran inside and picked it up but said nothing, not wanting to give him the pleasure of hearing her voice. She could hear him breathing. And, for the first time, she picked up on something she’d missed before — the man was likely overweight.
“Hello, Detective Black.”
“Hello mister … what’s your name?”
“You and the world will know soon enough.”
Music in the bathroom reminded her of Katie. She felt a chill, instantly vulnerable, flashing back to how she felt after learning Ashley was gone then again when hearing Jessi Price had been taken.
“What the fuck do you want?”
“How did you do it?”
“Do what?” Mal asked.
“Find the girl?”
“A little birdie told me. Same little birdie that said you’re a sick fuck pussy, abducting children and women because they scare you. What is it, tough guy? Your mommy hurt you?”
The man was quiet, save for the sound of his heavy breathing.
“And, lemme guess, now you hate all women, blame them all because they can see what a sick fat fuck you are. That sound accurate?”
More silence. Maybe he’d slip up and say something now that she was pushing his buttons. Aanya might get something since she was tracing the line, and Mal was already keeping him on the line longer than she had before.
“That it? Mommy hurt you so now it’s time to watch the world burn?”
“Oh, it will burn, Detective.”
“Whatever, psycho. Why are you calling me?”
“You interrupted my masterpiece, and he isn’t very happy.”
“Who isn’t happy?”
