The Class Reunion: A psychological suspense thriller

by N L Hinkens

  The trip back to her home outside of Buffalo Hills seemed interminably long, and the requisite stop for groceries in Davenport added another forty minutes to the drive, but at last she turned off the main road and onto the long dirt lane up to the modest farmhouse she had bought a decade or so ago with the money she had managed to save from her game warden gig.

  She pulled her car into the barn, sending several feral cats scurrying to hide. After gathering up her overnight bag and groceries from the back seat, she made her way into the house. The dogs in the back yard erupted, pawing at the door to get in.

  “All right, all right, calm down guys,” Teresa said, setting the bags of groceries down on the kitchen table. She opened the back door, and her six dogs came tearing into the kitchen in full force, yapping and barking over one another in their excitement at seeing her. She knelt down, rubbing each of their ears in turn, letting them lick their approval all over her face. “I missed you too.” When the dogs had satisfied themselves that she was back to stay, she refilled their water bowls and gave them each a rib bone from the freezer to chew on.

  After putting away the groceries, she sent her neighbor a quick text to let her know she’d returned and that she’d drop off some cash for the kids in the morning. She didn’t want them coming round to pester her for their money. Not that she intended to pay them much when all they’d had to do was get the dog food from the barn and fill the bowls in the pen twice a day.

  Sinking down on the couch with a can of Coke, she took a long sip before pulling Lindsay Robinson’s file out of her duffel bag. She eyed it with pleasure, a tingling feeling surfing through her veins like a powerful drug. The file wasn’t very thick, which was hardly surprising. Lindsay had only been a part-time employee at the car wash her senior year of high school. Teresa skimmed through her personal details again, committing everything to memory. If she was to move in Lindsay’s circles to get close to her, she needed to know everything about her.

  When she was done perusing the file, she drained the last of her Coke, and got to her feet. It was time to check on her other babies—they would be stirring by now. She walked over to the door at the top of the basement stairs and unlocked it before turning back around to address her dogs. “Stay!” she commanded them. Apart from a soft whimper, there was no resistance to her command from the pack. She had been strict about their training in this area. They were never allowed to follow her down to the basement, under any circumstances. She simply couldn’t take the risk—one or other of her beloved pets was bound to end up dead. She loved all her animals, but she understood only too well that the hostile dispositions of her solitary basement menagerie were not compatible with her canine companions.

  After switching on the light, she closed the door behind her and descended the wooden steps. It was dark down in the basement, with only one narrow rectangular window at ground level at the far end. The inhabitants preferred it that way. They also liked it warm, which is why she kept the temperature at a constant seventy-six degrees. It was the only room Teresa had remodeled when she moved into the farmhouse—going so far as to install a new boiler and a separate heating zone to accommodate its residents. She had also taken the time to watch a YouTube video on how to frost a windowpane to make sure her neighbors’ kids couldn’t see into the basement. Kids were notoriously nosy, and they talked too much—a dangerous combination in this case.

  “I’m back, Empress,” Teresa crooned to the pit viper curled up in the glass enclosure closest to the stairs. “Are you hungry?” She was relieved to see that the heat lamps were all functioning normally. She typically checked everything on a daily basis, even though her basement babies only ate once a week. It had been years since she’d spent a night away from them. But, as it turned out, it had been worth the trip.

  She walked over to the freezer in the corner of the room and retrieved several packets of rodents which she placed in a basin of warm water in the sink. While she waited for them to defrost, she crossed over to the enclosure that contained her prized krait snake. It had been the hardest one of her collection to procure, but she didn’t regret the extra effort it had taken. No matter how long she spent staring at him, his striking black and yellow bands never ceased to take her breath away. “How’s my handsome boy, Achilles, today?”

  Achilles ignored her. As with all her other nocturnal pets, he preferred to sleep away the daylight hours, undisturbed by mortals. After admiring him for several minutes, she moved on to the third floor-length enclosure which housed her black mamba, Medusa—her most recent addition, and by far her most aggressive. Teresa handled her with extreme caution, relying on her snake hook and heavy-duty reptile grabber to move her whenever she needed to clean the enclosure. Medusa was fascinating to watch, opening her inky-black mouth to hiss at Teresa when she stared at her for too long. Of all the snakes she had owned, Medusa was by far the most active and fast-moving, her lithe gunmetal gray body rearing up to strike in the blink of an eye.

  The final enclosure contained her timber rattlesnakes, Brom and Beretta. Teresa had a special bond with them. She was immensely proud of the fact that, unlike her non-native snakes, she hadn’t purchased them over the internet but had captured them in the wild. It was strictly against policy for a game warden to trap a reptile or animal and bring it home, but the long hours she spent alone on the job ensured there was no one looking over her shoulder to enforce the policy.

  A smile tugged at her lips as she watched her rattlers sleep curled up on top of one another. She was fairly certain, based on the disparate size of their tails, that she’d managed to snag a male and a female and she was hoping they might breed. “Grub’s up, my lovelies,” Teresa mouthed to them through the glass. Grabbing her tongs, she fetched a rat from the plastic bowl in the sink, and dangled it over Brom, letting his head touch the bait. In a lightning strike, he snatched the meal from the outstretched tongs and slithered into the corner of the enclosure with it. “Patience, Beretta, my love,” Teresa soothed. “You’re next.”

  After feeding each of her snakes in turn, Teresa double checked the heat lamps and then wound her way back up the stairs to the kitchen, taking care to lock the door to the basement after her. She left the key in the lock as she usually did when she was home by herself. Hungry after her long trip, she fixed herself a sandwich and sat down in front of the television to eat. She flipped through several channels, but she couldn’t focus. She was too busy anticipating Lindsay’s demise. A plan was formulating that thrilled her to the core.

  31

  The following morning, Teresa drove to her neighbor’s house two miles down the road. She rang the doorbell and when no one answered, she jammed an envelope with some cash in the doorframe. With that taken care of, she climbed back in her car and typed Lindsay Robinson’s old address into her maps app. She was studiously ignoring the numerous irate messages on her phone from her father’s landlord. She had to remain focused on her mission, and that didn’t allow for distractions in the form of an angry chump wanting to vent his frustrations about the mess she had left him. He could keep his deposit and haul out the trash himself.

  Forty-five minutes later, Teresa pulled up outside a tired-looking house in a quiet suburb. She sat in the car for a moment watching the building for any sign of movement. There was no vehicle in the driveway, but it didn’t mean to say no one was home. She glanced at her face in the mirror one last time and then smoothed down her shirt before climbing out of the car. She had taken care with her appearance that morning and applied some makeup for the first time in as far back as she could remember. Granted, she had found it buried in a bathroom drawer, and it had already expired and would likely give her a horrible rash, but it was important to look presentable if she was to pass herself off as an old friend of Lindsay’s.

  She walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell, tapping her foot impatiently as she waited—ill-at-ease in the unfamiliar heels that were a far cry from the kangaroo boots she usually donned on a daily basis.
She was about to ring the doorbell again when a frail voice called out, “Just a minute!”

  At last, the door creaked open and an elderly woman on a walker peered out at her.

  Teresa’s lips curved into a smile. “Hi, I’m looking for Lindsay Robinson. I’m a cycling friend of hers from way back. I live in Boston now but I’m here for a visit and I wanted to look her up.”

  The woman’s face brightened. “Lindsay doesn’t actually live here anymore. I’m her mother, Pam.” Her papery brow wrinkled. “What did you say your name was?”

  “Mary,” Teresa blurted out. It was a common enough name. Hopefully, common enough that it wouldn’t arouse the woman’s curiosity. “We didn’t attend the same high school, but we competed in the same cycling league.” She fished Lindsay’s employee file headshot out of her purse and passed it to Pam. “This is the last photo I have of her.”

  “Oh my!” Pam chuckled. “That is an old one. She looks so young there. Lindsay normally works until five, but I can give you her address, if you want.”

  “That would be wonderful. I’m so looking forward to connecting with her again.”

  “Let me jot it down for you,” Pam said, reaching for a pad and pen on the hall table just inside the front door.

  Teresa tried to curb her irritation as the woman painstakingly wrote out the address with a shaking hand before passing it to her. She scanned the spidery script to make sure it was legible and then stretched her lips into another phony smile. “Wonderful. Thank you, Pam. I can’t wait to see Lindsay’s face when I turn up on her doorstep.”

  “Well, I’m sure you two cyclists will have plenty to catch up on.” Pam hesitated and then added, “You have such beautiful hair, dear.”

  Teresa flicked her heavy braid over her shoulder. “I’ve had it this way since high school. Probably time for a change.”

  As she hurried back to her car, she could hardly tamp down her excitement. It had all been so incredibly easy. Handed to her on the proverbial platter. She would take it as a sign that it was meant to be.

  32

  Over the course of the next few months, Teresa spent every spare minute familiarizing herself with the intimate details of Lindsay Robinson’s life: her daily schedule, her training regimen, how she spent her weekends, her favorite attire, which friends she socialized with, the places she liked to hang out. They had more in common than Teresa had realized. Lindsay was also a huge fan of the outdoors and wide-open spaces—in fact, she seemed to spend the bulk of her free time cycling, often taking off on forty- or fifty-mile bike rides.

  Clearly, she was also an animal lover. Each morning at 6:00 a.m. on the dot she left her house to walk her miniature Australian Shepherd and Jack Russell terrier. It was the one splinter in her plan that nagged at Teresa. The unfortunate reality was that by the time she was finished with Lindsay, the dogs would likely end up at the local animal shelter. She tried not to think too much about their fate as she went about finalizing her plans.

  After gathering her data, she considered the various options open to her. The fact that Lindsay spent an inordinate amount of time alone in the outdoors made her an easy target for an unfortunate accident. There were a variety of catastrophes that could befall a person who hiked and biked in solitude. In the end, Teresa elected to go with a cycling accident—the obvious choice and therefore the least likely to raise any red flags in the aftermath. Of course, it wouldn’t end there—she had decided on a particularly fitting finale for Lindsay.

  When the day finally arrived, Teresa was more than ready. After feeding her dogs their evening meal, she calmly set about gathering up the supplies she would need. On Sunday evenings, Lindsay typically biked along the Great River trail at dusk, well after most folks had disbanded and headed home for the night. She was disciplined in her training regimen—a creature of habit, which would prove to be her downfall. Teresa had already walked the route several times and picked out the best possible spot for the accident to occur. It was an area that provided plenty of cover for her to hide but was also close to an entrance which made for an easy getaway afterward. More important, this particular section of the trail had just enough of an incline to ensure that Lindsay wouldn’t go flying past her before she had a chance to enact her plan.

  The last thing Teresa did before leaving the house was bag up Brom and Beretta. It was hard knowing that she wouldn’t see them again after tonight, but she couldn’t deny that after playing their part they would have earned their freedom. After loading up her car, she drove slowly down the lane to the main road, centering herself by focusing her thoughts on Damien. He was the reason she had gone to all this trouble.

  A sense of calm about the task that lay ahead enveloped Teresa as she pulled out onto the main road. She would take the time to explain to Lindsay in detail the extent of the destruction she had wrought on the Kinney family. Lindsay Robinson would die understanding something of the pain and chaos she had caused in the lives she had taken little thought of when she’d brazenly seduced their father. Perhaps she would be remorseful—not that it would spare her the sentence Teresa had already passed. Lindsay Robinson was too far gone for an eleventh-hour pardon.

  When she reached the deserted parking lot by the entrance to the trail, Teresa backed her car into the closest spot to allow for a smooth getaway, and then pulled on her gloves. After donning her backpack, she carefully lifted out the sack containing Brom and Beretta, along with her snake handling tools, and made her way to the designated spot. The fall air was crisp, and she shivered in the breeze that was picking up. A yellow-throated warbler in a nearby tree chirped its disapproval at her late arrival.

  “Sorry, little guy,” Teresa called up to the bird. “I have important business to take care of tonight. After that, I’ll be on my way.” She set down her backpack, reptile sack, and tools, and checked to make sure her flashlight was working. It was already dusk, and she was well aware that it could take some time for Lindsay to die. She screwed her snake handling hook onto the end of the detachable extension pole and tested how far away she would need to position herself in order to reach the wheel of the bike with it.

  Satisfied with the logistics of her plan, she checked the time again. Fifteen minutes to spare, give or take. Brom and Beretta were waiting in their bag behind her, next to a rock she had selected to inflict just enough damage to stun Lindsay into submission. Settling into the brush in a sniper position, Teresa stilled her breathing, modeling her reptiles’ behavior as she waited in the darkness for her unsuspecting prey.

  At the whoosh of tires on the trail, she tightened her grip on the handle of her hook and took several shallow breaths. She had practiced lying in the brush and listening for the sound of Lindsay’s bike approaching several times over the past weeks, counting down exactly how far away she was from the incline. Teresa had learned the skill of waiting for the perfect moment to strike by studying Medusa. Don’t be impatient, but don’t hesitate once your prey is within reach. The bike rolled ever closer. Three … two … one …

  Lindsay’s surprised scream pierced the evening air as she flew over the handle bars, the bike skidding out from beneath her. Before she had a chance to react, Teresa was towering over her, swinging the rock. Lindsay’s eyes widened in horror, but her frantic attempt to roll out of reach at the last minute was fruitless. The rock connected with the side of her head—hard enough to incapacitate her without killing her. She let out a gasp, her eyes glazing over as she flopped back down in the dirt, blood pouring from her ear. Teresa wasted no time tossing the rock and grabbing Lindsay by the ankle. She dragged her into the brush and then went back to retrieve her bicycle. If any straggling joggers or cyclists happened by, there would be nothing to see on the trail as the last dregs of daylight dissipated. She quickly dismantled the extension pole and packed it away. To her irritation, the hook had snapped off and gone flying into the brush somewhere.

  Teresa retrieved a coil of rope from her backpack, and expertly secured Lindsay’s hands and
feet. Her eyes fluttered open, and she blinked uncomprehendingly up at the sky, clearly stunned from the blow. She moaned softly, too weak to resist as Teresa stuffed a rag into her mouth. After propping her flashlight up against her backpack, she sat down on a tree stump, eying Lindsay dispassionately. Despite the fact that her enemy was in a vulnerable position, Teresa was under no illusion that she was entirely helpless and incapacitated. Lindsay Robinson was an athlete, fit and strong, and would undoubtedly attempt to fight for her life when she rallied enough for the adrenalin to kick in. Teresa would have to watch her back—she hadn’t wanted to tie her up too tightly in case it left any telltale marks.

  Lindsay’s eyes flicked to Teresa once more, and then to her surroundings, as if assessing the predicament she found herself in and calculating her chances of escape.

  “I’m sure you have questions,” Teresa drawled. “We’ve got all the time in the world so no need to rush. Get your wind back first.”

  Lindsay mumbled something unintelligible, straining to spit out the rag in her mouth.

  Teresa let out an amused snort. “You do realize I can’t understand a word you’re saying? It’s not that I don’t want to hear you out. After all, you deserve a chance to address the jury. But can I trust you not to scream if I remove the rag from your mouth?”

  Lindsay wriggled around, attempting once again to dislodge the rag.

  Teresa let out an exaggerated sigh and got to her feet. “I can see you’re eager to start talking, but you’re not compliant yet, so let’s go over the ground rules.” She walked over to her backpack and lifted the reptile sack lying next to it containing Brom and Beretta. “Do you know what I have in here?” she asked, holding the bag aloft.