by Willow Rose
Still, I had no idea how she was supposed to manage in class when she remembered absolutely nothing of school.
“Maybe it’ll come back to her once she gets back into her familiar surroundings,” Dr. Faaborg told me, when I called in desperation and asked him how I was supposed to deal with this.
“But she doesn’t remember anything. She can read and write, that’s it. She has no recollection of things they’ve learned, of books she has read, and doing math problems with her is like starting all over from scratch.”
“She might remember things along the way. The important thing is to not panic. She’ll be fine eventually,” he said.
“I sure hope so.”
“Don’t worry so much. It’s not helping Maya. Take one day at a time. By the way, how is the book coming along? I’ll get my signed copy, right?”
I chuckled. Dr. Faaborg was one of my biggest fans. “Don’t worry so much, Doctor.”
Now I was standing in the doorway, kissing both of them goodbye, and wondering how it had all come to this point. I hadn’t seen or heard from Morten since the day he left me in my kitchen alone with a half eaten jam-sandwich and the words I don’t think I can do this anymore.
I knew he was working the case of the two double homicides. I had followed the investigation closely by hacking into the Danish police force’s computer system that, to my surprise, remained very poorly protected. I had seen forensic reports from the second kill, and it was all still a mystery to everyone who was behind this. Luckily, there hadn’t been any more killings for three weeks, and I hoped it was over, that the killer maybe had been just passing through or maybe he was done. Maybe it had been a revenge motive of some sort, and now he was done. I just couldn’t see the connection between the two sets of victims. The couples didn’t know each other, and all they had in common was the fact that they were newly wed and had just bought their first houses. In the first case, the killer had taken the husband’s heart; in the second, he had cut out his brain. The nature of the killings was so gruesome it made the hairs stand up on my back just by thinking about them. I had searched everywhere to see if there were cases similar to these two, but hadn’t found anything yet.
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll be fine,” Maya said and kissed me. Then she walked down the stairs with her backpack. I had some serious butterflies in my stomach. I could tell by the look in her eyes that she was nervous as well. She just didn’t want me to know. She didn’t want me to worry.
“I know, sweetie,” I replied, and waved at her as she took her bike and drove off. I had taken the trip to the school with her on our bikes every day for a week to make sure she knew the route and wasn’t concerned about biking to school. At first, I told her I would drive her, but she found that to be extremely embarrassing, since all the other kids rode their bikes to school.
Even Victor.
At nine years of age, he was getting so tall I could hardly believe he was the same little boy. He drove off with a wave.
“Have a great day!” I yelled after him.
“You always say that,” he yelled back.
So, that was it. I was alone. The silence was nice, but a little unbearable. Luckily, Sophia had the day off and didn’t start working until the next day. She only worked part-time as a music-teacher at Victor’s school, and only had to work three days a week. All of her six kids were back in school and day-care, and she wanted to celebrate by us going out for a nice brunch together.
I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the day.
38
August 2014
“COULD IT HAVE something to do with that curtain guy?”
Sophia took a bite of her salmon sandwich while I spoke. “I mean, it is kind of weird that he was the one to find both of them, right?”
Sophia swallowed and shook her head. “What is it with you and those killings? It’s like you’re obsessed with them. Leave it alone already. It’s been three weeks. It’s over. He’s gone.”
I drank my Coke. Café Mimosa had some new paintings on the walls. They were all Jack’s. They had ocean and beach motifs. I love all of them. He used such wonderful colors and captured the light just perfectly in them. On the table behind us sat Lisa Rasmussen, a member of the city council who was having a meeting with two other members. She was talking very loudly. It sounded like she was talking to a crowd of children, but it was to two adults. She sounded really annoyed with them. The election for Mayor was coming up this fall, and she was running. I had never cared much for her, but she had done a very good job cleaning up the town and our beaches. I had to give her that much. I almost laughed, thinking about the time Lisa Rasmussen had taken down a killer in this very same Café. It was quite impressive. Maybe I would give her my vote after all. I didn’t know. I was indecisive about her. She seemed a little mad to me, but maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing in politics. She got the work done, that was for sure.
“Maybe you’re right,” I said. “Maybe I should just let it go. I just can’t stop thinking about it.”
“You just want to write a book about it,” Sophia said, laughing.
“I really do,” I said. “Is that terrible? I often feel like I’m exploiting these people’s tragedy.”
“Nah,” Sophia said. “You’re a great writer. It’s what you do. You should be proud of it. At least something good comes out of them dying.”
I chuckled. Sophia could always get something positive out of everything. I had known her almost two years now, and I had really grown to love her. I knew she would always be there for me. That was worth a whole lot in my book.
“But it is kind of a strange coincidence that they both used the same curtain guy, don’t you think?” I asked.
Sophia grinned. “You just can’t leave it alone, can you? All right, let’s get it out. So, you think this curtain guy, what’s his name…?
“Peter Wagn.”
“Peter Wagn. You seriously think he did it, then returned to the scene and fainted?”
I shrugged. “Why not? It is, after all, the perfect alibi. No one would ever suspect him. This killer is cunning, if you ask me. Peter could be playing a role…pretending to be fragile. Plus, serial killers have been known to return to the scene of the crime afterwards. They like to look at their work. At least that’s what Morten has told me. And we’re looking for a guy who knows that these people just bought a house, right? Well, the curtain guy knew.”
Sophia nodded, while chewing. “True. But so did the moving company, contractors, the realtor…just to mention a few. Besides, the Curtain Company is the only one of its kind on the island, so it’s not that strange that they both would call them. Just bad luck for poor Peter Wagn.”
She made a good point. Lots of people were involved when you bought a new home. “I can’t stop thinking about the shoes,” I said. “I mean, where do you even buy a pair of shoes like that? Let alone two pairs?”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Sophia exclaimed. “These aren’t ordinary shoes.”
“Thank you! Morten laughed at me every time I brought it up. Told me I was such a girl.”
“Any news on that front?” Sophia asked.
I paused and drank. Then I shook my head. “Not a word. I can’t believe he would just walk out on me this way.”
“You miss him?”
“Yeah. Like crazy. But I’ve been a good girl. Only called him three times and hung up.”
“That’s my girl. Give him time.”
I sighed. That was exactly what I was trying to do. But it was so hard. Especially when I knew he was so close by. Every day, I had to fight the urge to just drop by, either at his home or at the police station. I kept coming up with excuses for going there, but so far, I had been able to keep my cool and stay away. Besides, I had no idea what to say to him. I just hoped he missed me as much as I missed him. But as the days passed by without a word from him, I doubted it more and more.
“Any news from the ex?” Sophia asked.
“A letter from his lawyer, if that counts as news,” I said. “He’s demanding full custody of Victor. Can you believe him? Two years ago, the guy told me he couldn’t handle him, and that it was too much for his new wife to have him for even a weekend. Now he wants him full time?”
“So, did you respond to the letter?”
“I did. I told them I’d take it all the way to court if I had to. He wasn’t getting anywhere near my child.”
“That’s my girl.”
39
August 2014
IT WAS FIRST day of school for all the kids in the country. Facebook was packed with pictures of happy children wearing their backpacks and nice outfits, and their even happier parents.
The numerologist loved this day, even though she didn’t have any children. It was the fourth of August, so the day’s number was three. Three was a good number. Perfect for a new beginning, and that was exactly what the numerologist was about to have.
Today, she started the second part of her plan. She had studied Emma Frost and found her weaknesses. Now it was time to use that knowledge.
It was just about to get interesting.
She had watched the house since the morning when the kids left for school, and later when Emma took her bike to town along with that annoying neighbor of hers who had six kids.
Six kids? Didn’t the woman have any self-control?
Now, she watched as Emma and Sophia returned and said their goodbyes. The numerologist looked at her watch. There were only fifteen minutes till the kids came home. The first day was a short day. Emma had a bag in her hand. She had been shopping. It looked like she had bought herself a pair of shoes.
Misty was nibbling on a piece of bread in the passenger seat next to her.
“I know you’re sad, Misty darling. But you can’t go. No you can’t. They won’t allow rats in there with me. They probably wouldn’t even let me come inside if they saw you. Yes, Mommy knows you always come with me everywhere, but this time you just can’t, all right? You have to stay in the car till I get back. This has to be perfect to succeed.”
The numerologist looked at her new face in the mirror once again. She still hadn’t gotten used to looking so differently.
I just hope they won’t recognize me. What if they can see it in my eyes? What if I lose one of the colored contacts?
“Nonsense,” she told herself in the mirror. “They won’t suspect a thing. The plan is perfect.”
The numerologist picked up the rat and pet her on the back. Then she kissed it on the snout. The whiskers tickled her face. The numerologist thought about Emma Frost and her children. She realized she had grown to like them more than she wanted to. She felt a pinch of sadness in her heart. It was always the children that got hurt in the process, wasn’t it?
“Well, I guess that’s not our problem, is it, Misty? It wasn’t like Emma Frost thought about what it cost us when she destroyed our baby, was it? No, she ruined years of research without even thinking about how much it meant to us. Yes, indeed, she did.”
Misty answered with a squeak. The numerologist tickled her stomach. She had recently read in a study from Washington State University that rats could actually laugh when tickled on their stomachs, so she had been doing that to Misty a lot lately. Misty seemed to love it, but hadn’t made a sound yet. The numerologist really wanted to hear her rat laugh.
“Laugh for Mommy. Come on, Misty, you can do it. Oh, come on. Just a little giggle for Mommy?”
But the rat didn’t laugh this time either. The numerologist gave up. She looked at the clock. It was almost one.
One. The perfect number. The number of creation, the primal force from which all other numbers spring forth. One was aggressive; a powerful force that produced results and didn’t allow anything or anyone to limit its potential. One was a number that walked upright with pride and purpose. It was strong, determined, unwavering. A one could turn dreams and ideas into reality.
It was also the time that both of Emma’s children were done with school. The numerologist waited only a few minutes before both of them drove into the driveway of the house. She watched them walk inside.
She waited about fifteen minutes more before she got out of the car, and with the pride of the number one, she walked upright and with purpose towards the front door.
40
August 2014
I WAS LATE. Sophia and I had finished our brunch and then gone shoe shopping. I had talked to a woman in a shoe store, and asked her if they had any red shoes. She had found a high-heeled pair that I tried on. I liked them, and ended up buying them. As I paid, I asked the woman casually if she knew how to get a hold of a pair of shoes like the ones Dorothy wore in The Wizard of Oz.
“I don’t have any here in the store, but you can buy them online, I’m sure. I would do that if it was me.”
“Of course,” I said, and paid for my own pair of red shoes. It made sense to buy them online. That way, you could get them without anyone noticing it. It would be something a salesperson would remember if a guy came in and bought two pairs of red ruby slippers. Our killer was way too clever to be seen like that.
I put away my new shoes in the closet upstairs, and hurried down to the kitchen. I had prepared dough to make a cake for the kids when they got home…to celebrate first day of school. All I had to do was to throw it in the oven for twenty minutes, and then I had to make the topping from coconut flakes and brown sugar. It was an old Danish classic that went by the name of Dream cake. It was the kids’ favorite.
I made hot chocolate to go with it and coffee for myself. I had barely taken the cake out of the oven and started making the topping when Victor stormed through the front door.
“Hi, buddy. How was the first day of school?”
Victor didn’t look at me. I was used to that, but this was different. He seemed upset. “Did something happen?” I asked, and squatted in front of him, trying to look him in the eyes.
He was breathing heavily. “Someone took my favorite rock,” he said.
“Who did?” I asked.
“Mrs. Rasmussen.”
“Your math teacher. Why did she take your rock?” I asked.
“Because I kept telling all the answers. She said the other kids won’t learn anything if I keep yelling the answers.”
“Victor. You know you have to raise your hand like all the other children. We’ve been through this so many times.”
“Yes. But she never picks me. And the other children are too slow. It’s so easy, and they never get it right. When they get it wrong, I tell them the answer. What’s wrong with that?”
I sighed. “So, the teacher punished you by taking your favorite rock, huh?”
“Then I got really mad, and she sent me to the principal’s office. They’ll probably call you later today, the principal told me.”
“On the first day, huh? Well, that was fast. Any good news?”
“They have my favorite ice cream at the cafeteria now.”
“Which one is your favorite?” I asked.
But Victor had lost interest in the conversation and walked right past me and sat down at the table. He took out his notebook and started writing in it. I was amazed at how fast he was able to write. He was always writing in it, but seldom let me see it. I tried to look over his shoulder while serving him his hot chocolate, but he was covering it up with his hand and thick curly hair.
Seconds later, Maya stepped in. My heart rate went up. I had been so nervous for her. She walked inside the kitchen and threw herself into a chair. She hardly looked at me.
Uh-oh!
“How was your day, sweetheart?” I asked cautiously.
She looked up at me. I could tell she had been crying. It broke my heart. Maya covered her face with her hands.
“Maya, honey? What happened?”
“I’m never going back. I don’t remember anything! I don’t remember anyone. Everybody was staring at me and pointing fingers and I had no idea who they were or if I knew them or not
. I didn’t even know who used to be my friends. It was awful. I’m never going back. I’ll stay home forever.”
I put my hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m so so sorry. What about Annika? She used to be your best friend, didn’t she help you?”
“Yes. She was very nice to me. But I feel weird around her. I feel like I don’t know her. And we’re so different. I don’t think we have anything in common. I’m not even sure I like her. I can’t believe she used to be my best friend. What is happening to me, Mom? Have I changed that much?”
I put my arm around her and pulled her closer. “I don’t know, sweetie. I think you’re just trying to find yourself right now…figure out who you really are.”
I held her for a little while longer, wondering if she really had changed. I felt it too. She was different somehow. Was it just a phase? Would she pull through it, or was it here to stay?
Maya sniveled and I wiped away a tear. “It was terrible, Mom. I didn’t remember anything. It was hard to understand what the teacher was saying. Math was the worst.”
“Well, math was never your strongest subject,” I said.
The clock on the oven beeped. “I made Dream cake,” I said, trying hard to sound cheerful.
Victor didn’t react. Maya sniveled again. “I think I need to study. I’m not hungry anyway.”
She got up and left the kitchen. Victor stopped writing, closed the notebook, and put it back in his backpack, then stormed out of the kitchen without so much as a word. I looked at the cake on the counter. It smelled so good. I shrugged and cut myself a piece, then grabbed a cup of coffee and started eating. My stomach was in a knot. I felt like crying, but I didn’t. Eating the cake made me feel better, so I grabbed another piece. I thought about Morten, about Michael my ex-husband, about the killings, and my poor children. I felt awful, so I grabbed another piece and more coffee. It wasn’t like I had anyone in my life I needed to lose those pounds for anyway. It didn’t matter anymore.
