CAUSE TO DREAD

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CAUSE TO DREAD Page 13

by Blake Pierce


  CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

  Avery knew how hospital time was somehow intangible; it seemed to flow differently when you were at the bedside of a loved one. It was more than just time that seemed off, though. Her body did, too. She knew she should sleep but she was not tired. She knew that she should eat but she was not hungry.

  She checked her phone. Six missed calls, three texts. All from Kellaway, O’Malley, and Connelly. She didn’t bother checking them just yet. She was more interested in the time. She wasn’t all that surprised to find that it was one in the morning.

  Rose’s condition had not changed. She was still unconscious, still relying on the breathing tube. But her doctor said her vitals were strong and he was now confident to say she’d be out of the woods sooner rather than later. As she looked at Rose, Avery thought about the conversation she’d had with the doctor during his last rounds before he had left for the day.

  He had brought Avery a sandwich from the cafeteria which she had barely nibbled at. He’d pulled up the chair from the corner of the room and took a seat.

  “I’m going to level with you and I hope you’ll understand the blatant nature of it. You being a detective, I assume you deal in hard facts, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, based on what I know about these kinds of situations, I think this was really just a cry for help. Even if she didn’t know it…I think that’s what it is. If she really wanted to do some damage, she would have taken more pills. The EMTs on the scene said there were about a dozen or so left in the bottle. And she also wouldn’t have called for help. I only tell you this to let you know that she may need you to dig the issues out of her when she’s back to normal—or as close to normal as you can get after something like this.”

  Avery thought: Rose won’t want me digging for anything. But she said nothing of the sort. She simply nodded and considered the doctor’s advice.

  That had been about seven hours ago. And while she was still thinking over what he had said, she didn’t think there was that much hope when it came to her and Rose. Avery had never been particularly close to her mother; after the age of twenty-one or so, they’d simply grown apart. Maybe that was the future she had with Rose. Maybe she just needed to accept it.

  To keep her mind busy and away from the horrors of her personal future, she read through the texts and emails that had come in. Every text had asked if they could help in any way. Kellaway included a side note to let Avery know that she’d be praying for her and Rose and that if she needed a shoulder for the late-night hours, to text her.

  It was not much, but to see such support from people who, for the most part, had remained constants in her life—as well as a new face—made her think that maybe her world had not been wiped out when Ramirez had died. Why had she felt such a need to wipe her slate clean and start over from the beginning? Why had she gone into hiding anyway?

  Because you were retreating, she told herself. You were only thinking about yourself. Rose’s father dies and you move farther away. What kind of messed up shit is that?

  Avery’s final thought before she finally drifted off to sleep in the uncomfortable chair was that maybe she’d had it backward all along. She’d assumed Rose would need a lot of help to pull through her father’s death and the trauma of the case that had taken his life. When, in reality, Avery was starting to realize she might be the one who needed the most help of all.

  ***

  The buzzing of her phone woke her up at 7:10 that morning. There was an ache in her neck from having fallen asleep in the chair and a nasty taste in her mouth from not having had a chance to brush her teeth. The number on her phone’s display screen was one she recognized but had not programmed in yet. It was Kellaway.

  She answered it, her heart warmed by Kellaway’s kind offers via text. There was no sense in shutting her out. It would solve nothing and only make her seem unapproachable.

  “Hey, Kellaway,” she said.

  “Hi,” Kellaway said. “How’s she doing?”

  “She’s still out of it but the doctors think she’ll pull through.”

  “I thought you should know that O’Malley and Finley got worried about you. They pulled the reports from the EMTs. So they know what happened. I do, too. But no one else. I feel like we were snooping and I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Really. Look…are you okay to stay on the case while I’m here?”

  “Yeah. I’m meeting with Connelly to talk about it later this morning. But hopefully you’ll be back on it soon.”

  “We’ll see,” Avery said.

  “Anyway, I thought you might want an update. We were able to find Abby Costello’s old phone. It was in one of the ecoATMs a few blocks away from her apartment. It was worse than just the cracked screen we were told about. It was pretty badly broken. The tech guys say it looks like she wiped it out. They can pull up the call logs, but it might take a while.”

  “So maybe she just never got a chance to program the new one before her date,” Avery said thoughtfully.

  “Most likely. Also, the first guy Abby saw at the restaurant checks out. Turns out, though, it was his first date with her. Met her on Tinder. They got into an argument when she told him point-blank he wasn’t her type and had no intentions of seeing him again after having a few drinks. He cut out and went to see a movie with a friend. He showed me the ticket stub and the text messages thread with the friend. So he’s clean.”

  “Good work.”

  Kellaway paused for a moment, as if she wanted to say something else, but eventually just decided on: “Please let me know if you need anything.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  They ended the call like that and Avery could not help but hate herself a bit for wishing that she could be out there on the hunt. But she looked at Rose, in bed with the breathing tube still attached, and knew that if she was going to get her life in order, she was going to have to work on her priorities.

  ***

  A little less than two hours later, Rose opened her eyes. She made a series of gasping noises, as she was unfamiliar with the breathing tube and alarmed at finding herself in a strange room. With the assistance of two nurses and her doctor, she was tube-free and resting as easily as she could half an hour later.

  While a nurse spoke with her and checked her vitals, Avery and the doctor hung by the doorway outside. It was killing Avery to not be in there with her daughter, but she did her best to remain patient and calm.

  “She’s responding splendidly to all stimuli,” the doctor said. “She’ll be groggy for quite some time and although she will likely be very hungry, we’ll have to feed her slowly. We’d like to keep her overnight, but I don’t see any reason to worry. Like I said…just be there for her in the coming days as she starts to explore the reasons behind what she did. I’d be happy to recommend a psychiatrist if you think it might help.”

  Avery thanked him and watched as he made his way down the hallway. She turned back toward the room, peeking in. The nurse motioned her inside and when they passed one another—Avery on the way into the room and the nurse on the way out—the nurse gave her a hopeful little smile.

  “Hey there, kiddo,” Avery said.

  “Hey, Mom…”

  And that was all it took. Rose’s bottom lip trembled and she started crying. They were deep, hitching sobs that seemed to come from her heart. She reached out with a trembling arm for Avery and Avery was more than happy to oblige. She went to Rose’s side and took her in her arms with caution.

  “It’s okay, sweetie,” Avery said. “It’s okay. I’m so sorry. I should have been there for you. You should have been able to know that I would be there no matter what and—”

  “No,” Rose said. “I’m so sorry. This is on me, Mom. I was being stupid and selfish and I wanted to hate you so bad. I needed to blame you and…”

  The words were lost in her tears, becoming nothing more than slurred sounds. Avery started to weep softly then and for the better part of ten minutes, t
hat’s how their reunion went: two women, having shared grief with one another and seeking a new way to continue with their lives, finding the answer had been right in front of them the entire time.

  ***

  Nurses came in and out of the room like bees revolving around a hive. From what they shared with Avery, things were looking very positive. Their cheerful demeanor seemed to rub off on Rose; within an hour of their crying session, Rose seemed to have it together. She would smile politely at the nurses and was able to lock eyes with her mother without breaking out into tears.

  Just before noon, Avery sat on the edge of the bed and took Rose’s hand. She’d decided to just go for it—to be as up front and as honest as possible.

  “So, the doctor says this was a cry for help,” she said. “What do you think of that?”

  “I hope it wasn’t,” she said. “I…I don’t know. I’d thought about it a few times since Dad died. But it was always just this escapist fantasy bullshit. God…you know me, Mom. Suicide is such a stupid thing. Poor little girl, can’t handle the stress. And to make it worse, I chose pills. Lame. It could have been something harder, you know? Razorblades in the bathtub, a gun in the mouth…”

  “Stop it,” Avery said, each thought pasting itself onto the front of her mind.

  “Sorry. But you know what I mean. Mom…my God, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “I think I might,” Avery said. “You were thinking that your father died because a killer your mother was chasing got to him. You were thinking that your mother is always choosing the career that consequently killed your father over you. And the hell of it is you wouldn’t be wrong.”

  “No, that’s not it. Not really. There have been days in the last few months where I missed you just as much as I missed Dad. And it’s harder because you’re still here, you know? I just…I don’t know what it is Mom. I wish I did…”

  Behind them, Avery’s phone could be heard buzzing. She had silenced the ringer early last night and had not turned it on again. It was giving a series of buzzing noises, indicating that a call was coming in. Avery ignored it completely, while Rose looked over at the chair.

  “It’s okay, Mom. I know you might not think so, but I love the fact that you’re so committed to your job. It’s important. I know that and I respect that. You’re a badass. I just get jealous, I think. I knew you went back to work; I saw a snippet on the news where you were rushing into the precinct. Had a new partner, from the looks of it. Not nearly as cute as Ramirez.”

  “That’s the truth. I’m sorry, Rose. I should have called. I should have asked. But…my work is the only thing I know how to do well. I had to go back to see if it could help me get back to where I was before he died.”

  “I get that, Mom. And it’s okay. It really is. I get it.”

  “Still…I don’t want you to ever think I’m choosing you second.”

  “Mom…I’m not blind. I’ve seen the way you’ve tried to mend things between us. Several times, you’ve tried and I’ve shot you down. I was still being that naïve little girl that wanted to piss you off because things with you and Dad didn’t work out. I’ve never felt second because of your work, despite some of the things I might have said in the past.”

  “You’re an amazing kid,” Avery said.

  “And you’re a shitty detective,” Rose said, nodding toward the chair where Avery’s phone sat. “Answer the call. According to the news, you’re apparently working on some nasty case.”

  “You’re more important, Rose.”

  “Yes, we’ve established that,” Rose said, kissing Avery’s cheek. “Now go find the killer. Stop him from killing someone else.”

  They shared a look between them. Nothing was said, but a ton was communicated. Go stop the killer…don’t give up. Dad’s dead but you caught the bastard that did it. Don’t stop now. Do your job. Save lives.

  Avery gently ruffled Rose’s hair and kissed her on the forehead. “We’re going to be okay, Rose,” she said.

  “Yeah, we are,” Rose said. “And I promise to do my part from here on out.”

  “Same here,” Avery said.

  She got off of the bed, feeling something strange as she picked up the phone. That feeling, she realized, was knowing that she had Rose’s full support—that Rose was, in essence, her cheerleader. It was a strange feeling…a great feeling.

  She saw that the call had come from O’Malley. She tried calling him back but it went to voicemail. She then pulled up Kellaway’s number and tried her. As dutiful and eager to please as ever, Kellaway answered on the second ring.

  “I saw that O’Malley called me five minutes ago,” Avery said. “Do you know what’s going on?”

  “Yeah,” Kellaway said. “I’m driving to the scene now. Another murder. And this one might be even weirder than the spiders.”

  “Where is it?” Avery asked.

  She looked back at Rose for further assurance and got it in the form of a proud smile.

  “Detective Black…no. Stay with your daughter. I don’t want you to—”

  “Give me the address,” Avery said. “I’m on my way.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

  As it happened, the hospital was closer to the crime scene than the A1, so Avery arrived only a few moments after Kellaway. Finley was also with her, both of them with their shoulders hunched up against a drizzle of cold rain that had just started to fall. Avery got out of her car, pulled a light coat on over her own shoulders, and joined them at their cars.

  The house was located on a small strip of side road that branched off from the central highway. The houses were not close together, with at least an acre or so of land separating each property. It was the sort of place that could still be referred to as a neighborhood rather than a subdivision. They started toward the house as a trio, heading toward the partially opened front door and the single police officer waiting in the doorway.

  “What do we know for sure?” Avery asked.

  “If it’s all the same to you,” Kellaway said, “I’d rather see it for myself before I try describing what I’ve been told.”

  “She’s right,” Finley said. “The poor guy that called it in…from what I understand, he sounded like a lunatic.”

  “Yeah, a coworker discovered the body about forty minutes ago,” Kellaway said. “She didn’t show up for work, her supervisor got pissed because they were against deadline, and he actually sent someone to her home to look for her when she wouldn’t answer emails or her phone.”

  They had reached the porch by this point. They ducked under the yellow crime scene tape that had been strung up between the porch rails. The officer in the doorway nodded as he heard Kellaway relaying the information.

  “That’s right. Poor bastard had to be escorted home. He was a mess.”

  “And you were the first officer on the scene?” Avery asked. He was a familiar face—one she’d seen countless times but never really got to know. A slightly overweight man by the name of Hancock.

  “I was,” Hancock said. “And yeah…it creeped me the hell out, too. See for yourself.”

  Hancock stepped aside, looking to be very glad that he could step out into the fresh air.

  When Avery stepped into the house, she saw that Kellaway had not been exaggerating. It looked like something straight out of a horror movie. First, the body lying in the floor was coated in blood. A pool of it expanded about two feet around in her all directions. There were stab wounds everywhere, even in the left side of the woman’s jaw. A quick initial glance allowed Avery to count at least seven stab wounds.

  But beyond the body, there were the clowns. So many clowns. Dolls, porcelain figurines, cardboard cutouts, stuffed figures…there were at least thirty of them and they were all looking in the direction of the front door.

  “What the hell happened here?” Finley whispered.

  Avery hunkered down as close as she could to the body without placing a foot into the blood. She saw that her count of seven wound
s had been off. She now saw ten clearly. She wondered how many more there might be on her back. She also saw a stain that seemed inconsistent with the bloodstains, located at her crotch.

  “She urinated on herself,” Avery said, pointing out the dark splotch.

  “And my God, look at her eyes,” Kellaway said.

  Avery had noticed the eyes, too. Wide open, frozen in terror. Just like Alfred Lawnbrook. Just like Abby Costello.

  “We have a name?” Avery asked.

  Hancock poked his head back into the house, his voice light and almost dreamlike. “Janice Saunders. In the middle of a divorce, working as a proposal specialist for some government agency in town from what I understand.”

  “Has anyone talked to the neighbors yet?”

  Before Hancock could answer her, she heard the sound of approaching sirens as more officers arrived. She looked out of the still-opened door and saw two police cars approaching from the north, from the direction of the highway. But she also saw another vehicle not too far behind. A news van.

  “Damn it,” Avery said.

  “How do they find out so damned fast?” Finley asked.

  “There were too many people involved in this one,” Avery said. “A supervisor at work and then probably a handful of employees who knew the supervisor had sent someone out to search. Add to that the fact that the news has already been on my ass for returning back and it’s a perfect storm. I bet someone was tailing me the moment I left the fucking hospital.”

  “Vultures,” Finley said.

  “Hancock,” Avery said. “Can you and Finley manage things here for a moment? Stay out until the other officers arrive. Kellaway and I are going to run over to the neighbor’s and see if we can get any sort of information. I’d love to get inside before the news van sees us.”

  “I’m good with that,” Finley said.

 

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