In high school, Siobhan must have killed the man who had abducted those girls in his school. That must have been what started her down this path.
Nash wondered if the killer had tried to kill her. It would make sense. It would be like Aileen Wuornos, living out that revenge over and over on various victims.
When had it happened?
Had it been after the second party at Pike’s house? That was where Heather disappeared from. Maybe that was why things got so strange between him and Siobhan afterward. Maybe it was because she’d been transformed by killing, by defending herself. Maybe it hadn’t had anything to do with him at all.
But if all that were true, why hadn’t Siobhan gone to the police? Why hadn’t she told them what happened to her, led them to the place where she’d left the killer’s body?
He wasn’t sure of any of the answers.
“Nash?” said Zoe.
“Yeah?” He glanced at her and then back at the road.
“Have you given any more thought to turning her in?”
“Not really,” he lied.
THE PAST
“But this doesn’t have anything to do with us,” Nash told them all. They were sitting at the same table in the same park where they’d convened to talk about Farrah and the acid. Now Ginger Carter had gone missing, and Daisy had called them all back here with notes in their lockers.
Ginger hadn’t been at a party. She had just never come home from school one Friday. No one knew what had happened to her, or if it was even connected to Farrah, but everyone was wondering if it was. There were also whispers, talk of the fact that girls had been disappearing for years. There was one every year, or every other year, at least. Most people had written them off as runaways, but now there were two girls gone in the span of a few months. It was bothersome. Everyone was worried, and everyone was trying to make connections.
Personally, Nash thought that the connections were only there in people’s heads, that they weren’t real. When people got frightened, their imaginations got away from them, at least in his opinion.
“Listen to little Wilt there being all assertive,” smirked Pike. “How do you know it doesn’t have anything to do with us?”
“Well, it doesn’t have anything to do with me,” said Nash. “I know that much.”
Pike gave him a withering look. “I didn’t have anything to do with it either. What are you trying to say?”
“Don’t fight,” said Daisy. “I only called us here to make sure that everyone was on the same page. We keep quiet about the acid. If the police come and talk to us again, we stick to our story.”
“I don’t even think the police care about the acid,” Nash muttered.
“Well, they might care about the fact that none of us bothered to look for Farrah,” snapped Arthur. He and Robin had broken up, and Nash noted that he was sitting awfully close to Siobhan, who seemed to be pointedly not looking at either of them.
Pike turned on him. “Yeah, okay, so we keep our mouths shut, right?”
“Right,” said Robin. “Are we done?”
“I guess,” said Daisy. “You in a rush to get out of here?”
“I just don’t feel like sitting at a table with that slut,” said Robin, pointing at Siobhan.
“Hey,” said Nash. “Don’t call her that.” It was a reflex to defend Siobhan.
Robin turned on him. “Stevie, I know that she’s probably the only girl on earth that’s ever looked at you twice, but you have to realize that she’s spread her legs for all of you.”
Siobhan glanced at Robin and then looked away.
“No,” said Nash. “That’s not true. Just…”
“It’s fine,” murmured Siobhan. “I’ll leave.” She got up from the picnic table and walked off.
“Jesus, Robin,” said Arthur. “It’s been over between us for months. Move on.”
“Fuck you,” said Robin.
Arthur glared at her.
Nash got up from the table and went after Siobhan.
“Where you going, Wilt?” Arthur called after him.
Siobhan had a big head start on him, but he caught up to her eventually.
He put his hand on her shoulder and turned her around. “Hey. I’m sorry about Robin.”
She looked up at him. “Classic Rock, you’re such a sweetheart.” She put her hand against his cheek.
“Hey!”
Nash turned.
Arthur was hurrying up to both of them. “What the fuck, Siobhan?”
Siobhan rolled her eyes.
Arthur huffed. “Is what Robin was saying back there true? I mean, I knew about you and Pike, but—”
“Arthur,” said Siobhan. “Shut up.”
He folded his arms over his chest.
Sioban looked back and forth between Nash and Arthur. “Both of you, just… leave me alone.” She turned and walked off without looking back.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Nash knocked on Zoe’s door. They’d checked into the hotel up here a few hours before. They were going to get settled in before heading out to look for Edward Carston later. But he’d been thinking a lot, and he needed to let Zoe know where his head was.
Zoe opened the door to her room. “I thought we were waiting a few more hours before we—”
“Can I come in?”
She stepped out of his way, holding the door open. “Sure. Not a problem.”
He walked inside. “Okay, here’s the thing, Zoe. I don’t want to turn Siobhan in.”
“Not at all?”
“No, not at all. Hell, if she balks at wanting to be on the podcast, I want to do everything I can to obscure her identity.”
“So that she can get away with this?”
“Yes.”
Zoe folded her arms over her chest. “You have to be kidding me.”
“I’m not.”
“I don’t understand this at all.”
“Well, there’s lots of reasons. I guess the biggest one is that I just don’t think what she’s doing is wrong.”
Zoe’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“I don’t,” he said. “I mean, these guys deserve to be killed, and the law hasn’t done it, so it seems to me that she’s doing everyone a service here. It’s better for society in general and the potential victims in particular to get rid of the men she kills.”
“Nash, that’s not the kind of call we can make.”
“And I know her. Siobhan. And… things weren’t easy for her in high school. Guys were not nice to her. Maybe… maybe I wasn’t nice to her.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Maybe we… maybe I took advantage of her.”
“Nash—”
“I need to talk to her about… things from back then. I need to know what happened to her, why she started doing this.”
“I’m not saying that you don’t do whatever you need to do to get an interview with her. Lie to her. Promise that you’ll obscure her identity. But then we have to turn her in. She is a killer, Nash.”
“Yeah, but she’s…”
“You think she’s got some good excuse for what she’s doing? There’s no excuse.”
He licked his lips. “Okay, well, there’s one other reason, one selfish reason.”
“What’s that?”
“If I turn her in, I’ll get scooped.”
“Scooped?”
“Yeah, we’ll take her to the police, and then it will become a news story, and they’ll get the details to the public faster than I could ever get the podcast out. It steals my thunder.”
Zoe pursed her lips.
Nash was quiet. He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Okay,” said Zoe.
“Okay?” he said.
“I guess I can’t stand in the way of the podcast,” said Zoe. “But you better fast track it, and you better get it out there before Edward Carston is killed. Because otherwise, I will go to the authorities. If I find out he’s dead, all bets are off.”
He nodded. “Okay, that’s fair.” It didn’t leave him a lot of time, but he’d do the best he could.
“And I can’t be part of this anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“I need to stop working on the podcast,” she said. “I won’t be able to forgive myself if I continue to contribute. I need to back out. Now.”
* * *
He drove Zoe to the bus station that evening. He’d offered to buy her ticket, but she wouldn’t let him.
At the station, she told him just to drop her off, but he parked the car. He wanted to say goodbye to her properly. He carried her suitcase to the waiting area for her, over her protests that she could carry it herself. She already had two other bags and a purse strapped to her body. She was carrying enough.
“I’ll wait for the bus with you,” he said, once they’d piled her luggage on a bench inside the station.
“No, that’s okay,” said Zoe.
“I feel bad about you traveling back on your own like this,” he said. “It’s my fault you’re out here in the first place.”
“There you go again, treating me like I’m a child,” said Zoe. “I’m an adult, Nash. I’ll be fine. I can ride a bus on my own.”
“I didn’t mean to be insulting,” he said. “It’s only that we’re friends now. I worry about you.”
“I’ll be fine, really,” she said.
He shifted on his feet.
“Go,” she said. “Leave me here. I’m fine.”
“There’s no way I can convince you to stay? I could seriously use your help.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. When it comes down to it, Nash, you’re just not the man I thought you were.”
That stung.
He did leave her there, after all. He said his goodbyes, and he made her promise to call if she needed anything, and he gave her a hug.
Then he left.
He wasn’t a bad man. Wanting to protect Siobhan didn’t make him a bad man.
THE PAST
“Siobhan Thorn and Arthur Robinson,” Nash was saying.
“You and that girl,” his friend Matthew said. “You’re always watching her and stuff.”
“I’m not,” said Nash. He and Matthew were in the lunch room, sitting at a table together. Siobhan was across the room, sitting at a table by herself, like always.
“You took her to that dance. I didn’t even think you liked school dances.”
“That was a really long time ago,” said Nash. “Just… have you heard anything? Are they together?”
“You think I pay attention to shit like that?” said Matthew.
“Yes,” said Nash.
Matthew sighed. “Look, I don’t think Siobhan is ever with anyone for very long, if you know what I mean. She’s not anybody’s girlfriend. She’s just the easy girl that guys try to hook up with. And usually succeed, from what I understand. Well, everyone except you.”
Nash gave him a withering look. “Come on, that can’t be right. She’s not like that.”
Matthew shrugged. “It’s just what people say.”
“People shouldn’t say things like that. She’s really nice.”
“No, she’s not. If you go up and try to talk to her, she’ll look at you like you’re a bug and say, ‘Can’t you see I’m busy?’”
“Well, okay, yeah, sometimes she’s a little brusque,” said Nash. “But she’s nice underneath that.”
Matthew looked confused. “Where’d you hear that word?”
“Which word?”
“What’s it mean?”
“If she’s so inapproachable, how the hell is she easy anyway?”
“Maybe you didn’t try hard enough,” said Matthew. “Maybe if you ask her to another dance, and you invite her to a hotel room afterward or something—”
“I don’t want to sleep with her!”
Matthew raised his eyebrows.
Nash flushed. “Well, okay, I do, I just… That’s not what it’s about. I don’t want to be that guy.” He gestured back and forth between himself and Matthew. “We are not that guy, right? We always talk about this. How we’re gentlemen, how we’re respectful, how that’s going to eventually pay off. My dad says it pays off.”
Matthew’s shoulders slumped. “Maybe dad is just lying to himself.”
Nash glared at Matthew. “He’s not.”
“Maybe Siobhan just sees you as a friend,” said Matthew. “You know, like every other girl in this school sees us.”
“Look, Siobhan and Arthur? They’re not a thing.”
“Not that I know of,” said Matthew. “Why, what are you going to do?”
Nash picked up his fork from his tray and toyed with it. “I don’t know.” He set the fork back down. “Probably nothing. I never do anything at all.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
It sucked that Zoe had left, but it wasn’t going to get in the way of Nash nailing this podcast. He had to find Siobhan, that was the first order of business. So, the first thing he did was to go to the address that Siobhan had listed for Edward Carston. He parked his car a ways down from the house, and then he crept up to watch the place for a while. He wasn’t exactly sure how he should go about this. Should he approach Carston looking for Siobhan? He wasn’t sure where she lived. Ideally, finding her on her own would be better than having to deal with the crazy abusive rapist as well.
Carston’s home was a sprawling mansion surrounded by a manicured hedge and a wrought-iron fence. The lawn was clipped and elaborately landscaped. It was picture perfect and proper.
After a few hours watching the house, nothing had happened.
As casually as possible, he crossed the street and opened up the mailbox. He sorted through the letters. Siobhan usually ended up living with her victims at some point, but Nash wasn’t sure if she tended to wait until after she’d convinced them to marry her. It would make things easier if she already was living with Carston, though, and maybe he could find that out if she was getting mail.
Jackpot.
There was a letter addressed to Siva Reynolds. He grinned, shoved it back in the mailbox and went directly to the front door.
He knocked.
His palms started to sweat. What if Siobhan answered the door? He was alternately terrified and electrified at the thought of seeing her.
But instead, a plump woman in a black dress with a white apron answered the door. “Hi there,” she said.
“Uh, hi,” said Nash. Had he come to the wrong house? “I’m looking for Siva Reynolds?”
“Oh, Miss Siva is out for the day,” said the woman. “She won’t be back for a few hours.”
“I see,” said Nash. “Too bad.”
“You want me to tell her you stopped by? What’s your name?”
“That’s all right,” said Nash. “I’ll come back.” He went back to his car and he moved it closer, so that now he was parked across the street from the house. He waited and watched.
He’d considered contacting Siobhan via Facebook and her fake Siva Reynolds profile. But he had decided against it, because he wasn’t sure if she would actually answer him or not. If she was hostile to the idea of talking to him, then giving her a heads up that he was arriving put him at a disadvantage. No, it was going to be easier to do this in person. It was much easier to refuse via a Facebook message than it was face to face.
Time passed. Nash was bored. He listened to some of Zoe’s podcasts to pass the time. He had never been much of a comic book fan, but he had to admit that she was fun to listen to. Her excitement was infectious.
He was also starting to understand that this unwavering black-and-white way of looking at the world seemed to be common amongst people who read comics. Maybe it had something to do with all the superheroes being so unwaveringly moral.
Of course, that wasn’t true, was it?
Maybe it had been true in 1940 or something, but superheroes these days were all shades of gray. They weren’t goody-goodies at all.
; Heh. Maybe it was just Zoe herself.
He scooted down in the seat in the car, trying to get comfortable.
He yawned.
THE PAST
“Look, I’m just saying, it’s happening,” said Pike. He was bent over Nash’s desk in Advisory. “This Friday.”
“I don’t get why you’re inviting me,” said Nash. “You don’t like me.”
“I invited all the other people from our little group,” said Pike. “I didn’t feel like I could leave you out, you know?”
Nash shook his head. “Well, don’t worry about it. I’m not going to go. It’s not as though showing up at the party the last time was such a great thing for me.”
Pike shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He went back to his seat.
Siobhan came in. She went across the room from Nash, and then sat down and opened her history textbook.
Nash watched her, feeling agonized. Why was it so hard to talk to her?
Angry with himself, he suddenly pushed to his feet, crossed the room, grabbed a chair, and pulled it right up to her desk.
She looked up. “Classic Rock?”
He sat down in the chair. “You and Arthur? What’s up with that?”
She gestured at her book. “I’m kind of busy.”
“You’re always busy,” he said. “It’s almost February. I thought you’d be done with all this by now.”
She took a deep breath, regarding him. And then she shut the book. “So, what’s up, Classic Rock? What do you care about me and Arthur?”
“There is a you and Arthur?”
“No,” she said. She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m acting like this.” He sighed.
She looked at him, waiting.
He didn’t say anything.
She looked back at her history book meaningfully.
“Look, Siobhan, I don’t really pay a lot of attention to things that people say around school.”
“Okay…?”
“I mean, what they say about you.”
She pressed her lips together in a line. “You’ve obviously paid enough attention to know what it is they say.”
The Feminine Touch Page 17
