The Wreck

by Marie Force

  Steve came back.

  “What did she say?” Carly asked. “Is he all right?”

  “It wasn’t a heart attack, but they’re keeping him overnight for some tests.”

  Carly and her mother exchanged relieved glances.

  “There’s one more thing you should probably know,” Steve said hesitantly.

  “What?” Carly asked.

  “Brian’s home.”

  A nameless, faceless man who wanted to hurt her haunted Carly’s dreams. She ran until her chest ached and her legs threatened to buckle beneath her. He chased her through town to the lake, where he pushed her inside the willow tree. She fought him, and the branches slashed at her face. Then all at once she was a little girl. Brian was there, and he was in danger. She wanted to warn him but couldn’t speak.

  A car was on fire. Inside was her family, the family she’d had with Brian. Her children were in that car. Frantic, Carly rushed toward them, but someone held her back with strong arms that didn’t feel friendly. The bad man returned, and this time he had Zoë. Again Carly was under the willow, but instead of Alicia, it was Zoë she found lifeless and beaten.

  Carly awoke with a muffled scream, and the sound coming from her own mouth startled her. Her body was bathed in sweat, her heart pounding. She was still in her parents’ bed where she had slept with her mother. Forcing herself to take deep breaths, she managed to eventually slow her heart rate. As she lay there recovering from the vivid nightmare, an image of Alicia Perry under the willow flashed through her mind. Alicia’s killer had made sure to leave Carly with an image that would haunt her forever.

  She hurt for Alicia’s family and friends, including Zoë. They were waking up today without the hope they’d clung to since Alicia’s disappearance. She knew that feeling. She knew it all too well.

  And then she suddenly remembered.

  Brian is home.

  Was he really just seven hundred and eighty-six steps from her at that very moment? The idea filled her with the kind of comfort and contentment—and anticipation—she hadn’t experienced since the day he left. She wondered if she would see him. You can’t be disappointed if you don’t. He’s here to take care of his father. But would he really come to town and not see me? Especially after what happened yesterday? I guess I’ll find out. Maybe I’ll even see him today. Her heart literally skipped a beat at that thought. Stop it, Carly.

  “Are you awake?” her mother whispered from the door.

  Carly began to nod and then remembered she didn’t have to. “Yes.”

  “It didn’t go away overnight,” Carol said with a smile as she came into the room and perched on the bed. “I was afraid it would.”

  Carly was unaccustomed to the sound of her own voice and the odd rumble in her throat. “I sound weird.”

  “You sound like a grown-up. Your voice is rusty from lack of use, but we’ll take it.”

  “I feel bad that Dad got bounced out of his own bed.”

  “It was for a good cause. He didn’t care.” She took Carly’s hand. “How are you feeling?”

  “Sort of guilty.”

  “Why guilty?”

  “Because all I can think about is that Brian’s home. Isn’t that awful when there’re so many bigger things going on right now?”

  “If I were you, that’s my first thought today, too.”

  “It wasn’t my first thought,” Carly said. “But it was my second, third, fourth, and fifth thoughts.”

  Carol chuckled and then sobered. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

  “I was just giving myself the same lecture. Don’t worry. I know. I might not even see him.”

  “I’m sure he’s upset about what happened to you yesterday.”

  Carly shrugged. “Maybe.”

  Carol held out her arms, and Carly sat up to hug her mother. “I can’t tell you how good it is to be sitting here talking to you. If you want to know my first thought this morning, that was definitely it.”

  Carly absorbed the comfort of her mother’s embrace for a long moment. “Have you talked to Cate? How’s Zoë?”

  Carol shook her head with dismay. “Terrible. She was up all night.”

  “I want to see her.” Carly got out of bed. “If anyone understands what she’s going through, it’s me.”

  “I went over to your place earlier to pick up some clothes and a few other things I thought you might need,” Carol said. “It’s all in the kids’ room.”

  “Thank you. I know I should be too old to want my mother taking care of me, but it sure feels good right now.”

  “I’m glad you feel that way, because Dad and I want you to stay here with us until they catch this guy.”

  “Before yesterday I would’ve argued with you, but not anymore.”

  “Good. Then it’s settled. Why don’t you take a shower and get dressed while I make you some breakfast?”

  “I need to call Molly.” Carly stopped herself. “I can’t believe I can call Molly—like anyone else would.”

  Carol hugged her daughter. “It’s a miracle—a true-blue miracle. And don’t worry about Molly. She called earlier and said not to come to work until you feel up to it.”

  “That’s nice of her. She’s been so good to me.” Carly hesitated before she asked, “Do you think maybe I’ve been able to talk for a while and didn’t know it? I haven’t tried very often, in fact, not since I tried to call 911 when I found the notes when you were in Europe. So it’s possible I could, isn’t it?”

  “You would’ve known,” Carol assured her.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Carly said, but she wasn’t entirely convinced.

  After breakfast, Carly and her mother walked the short distance to Cate’s house where Tom greeted them with hugs. “Let’s hear it,” he said, framing Carly’s face with his big hands.

  “Hello, Tom,” Carly said with a small smile.

  “Wow,” he said, amazed. “You sound just like Caren.”

  Carly screwed up her face. “I do not!”

  “Ah, yeah, you do.”

  “Do I, Mom?”

  Carol chuckled at their banter and held up her hands. “I’m not getting into this one.”

  “I’ll forgive you,” Carly said to Tom, “because there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long, long time.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “You’re a good guy, Tom Murphy, and my sister is lucky to have you. We all are.” Carly went up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek, which had gone red with embarrassment.

  “Thank you,” he mumbled.

  “How’s Zoë doing?” Carly asked.

  “Awful.” He shook his head. “What the hell do you tell a fourteen-year-old about something like this?”

  “The truth,” Carly said without hesitation. “You tell her the truth, because if you don’t, she’ll hear it from someone whose parents told them the truth.”

  “That’s what Cate said, too.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “She’s in her room. You just missed Cate. She took Steve and Lilly over to Caren’s for the day so we can focus on Zoë.”

  “If she asks me what I saw, what do you want me to tell her?” Carly asked.

  Tom studied her for a moment before he said, “As much of the truth as you think she can handle, I guess.”

  With a nod, Carly climbed the stairs to Zoë’s room. She was in bed with the curtains drawn. Carly knocked softly on the door. “Can I come in?”

  “Oh,” Zoë gasped, sitting up in bed.

  Carly was grateful to her miracle for giving her niece a moment’s reprieve from her grief.

  “My mom said you’d gotten your voice back, but to hear it…”

  Carly slid under the covers next to her. “Your dad says I sound like Auntie Caren. What do you think?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  Carly poked her in the ribs. “Do not.”

  Zoë’s smile was small and pained.

  “Can I tell you som
ething I’ve wished I could tell you at least a million times over the last fourteen years?”

  Zoë nodded.

  “I love you so much. From the first instant I ever saw you, you’ve had my heart.”

  Zoë broke down and slumped into Carly’s outstretched arms.

  “Why did this have to happen?” Zoë whispered as she shook with brokenhearted sobs. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I wish I could tell you. I asked myself that same question over and over again after my friends died. Sometimes I still wonder.”

  “My dad said you were the one who found her.”

  “Yes.”

  “Was it bad?”

  Carly nodded and was grateful that Zoë didn’t ask for more.

  “I want him to die for doing this to her,” Zoë said fiercely. “Does that make me a bad person?”

  “No, honey. That’s a natural response to something like this. You want the person who did it to pay. Chief Westbury, the police, and the FBI are doing everything they can to find him. And when they do, they’ll make sure he pays.” Carly wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince, herself or Zoë. “He’ll pay.”

  “Am I ever going to feel good again, Auntie Carly?” she asked in a small, shattered voice.

  Carly took a deep breath. “It might take a while, but one day you’ll wake up and be surprised when you actually notice the sun is out, the fireflies are back, and the jasmine’s in bloom.” Her heart ached as she was flooded with memories of a long-ago summer when she had been the heartbroken young girl. In a whisper, she added, “One day you will feel better, but that won’t mean you’ve forgotten Alicia. It only means life goes on. Even when you think it can’t possibly, somehow it just does.”

  “Is that how it was for you?”

  “That’s exactly how it was for me.”

  “And you lost six friends. I can’t imagine that. One is bad enough.”

  “Grief doesn’t come in sizes, honey.”

  “Do you still miss them?”

  “Every day, but I tell myself that by missing them, I’m keeping them alive, even if it’s only in my heart and mind. Does that make sense?”

  Zoë nodded.

  Carly held Zoë close to her for a long time until she realized the girl had drifted into a restless sleep. She eased Zoë’s head onto a pillow and watched her sleep. Her face was puffy and red from crying, which infuriated Carly. That the same man was probably responsible for both their tragedies… They had to find him—and soon. Enough was enough.

  Carly was on edge all day. A steady stream of people dropped by her parents’ house to check on her. Molly and Debby came after the coffee shop closed for the day. They were still there when Matt Collins and Agent Nathan Barclay arrived to take a statement from Carly about what she had seen at the lake.

  They also grilled Debby about the call she had taken from the man pretending to be Chief Westbury.

  “He sounded just like him,” Debby insisted. “It never occurred to me that it wasn’t him. I’m so sorry, Carly.” Debby’s soft brown eyes filled with tears. “If anything had happened to you…”

  “I’m fine,” Carly assured her friend.

  They stared at her every time she opened her mouth. She supposed it would take some time before they got used to hearing her talk and stopped staring.

  Molly and Debby left a short time later. While Carly recounted her story to Matt and Agent Barclay, the doorbell rang again. This time it was a neighbor bringing over brownies. Carly hated that she was waiting for Brian and that every time the caller wasn’t him, she had to absorb a fresh wave of disappointment. So much for not getting my hopes up.

  “How’s Chief Westbury?” she asked Matt.

  “He’s doing great. He passed all the heart tests, so they sent him home with orders to take it easy for a few days.”

  “That’s a huge relief.”

  “From what Mary Ann told me, he’s been desperately worried about you, though,” Matt added. “I’m sure you’ll hear from him.”

  Agent Barclay handed Carly his card. “Give me a call if you think of anything else.”

  “I will.”

  Carly’s mother showed them out and then came back to the living room. “What do you feel like having for dinner? Anything you want.”

  “I miss your meatloaf,” Carly confessed.

  “Then meatloaf it is. Do you think maybe you could try to take a nap before dinner? You look beat.”

  “I am.” She stretched out on the sofa.

  Carol spread a light blanket over her.

  Carly smiled at her. “You’re spoiling me rotten, Mother.”

  “And enjoying every minute of it. Go to sleep.”

  While Carly dozed on the sofa, the phone rang a couple of times, and her father came home. Before she knew it, her mother was shaking her awake. “Honey? Dinner’s ready.”

  Carly sat up and tried to emerge from the deep sleep she had fallen into.

  “Do you feel any better?”

  “Yeah,” she said with a big yawn.

  “Chief Westbury called while you were sleeping. He really wants to see you. I told him we’d take a walk over after dinner.”

  Startled, Carly looked up at her mother.

  “That is, if you feel up to it.”

  “Of course I do,” Carly responded in what she hoped was a light, breezy tone. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  Carol snorted with laughter as she folded the blanket and returned it to the back of the sofa. “Whatever you say.”

  Chapter 15

  Carly took a shower after dinner. She told herself it was because she’d woken up hot and sweaty after her nap, but she knew better. Brushing her long curls until they were shiny and soft, she studied her reflection in the mirror. I wonder what he’ll see when he looks at me. What will I see when I look at him? Will he have changed so much I won’t recognize my Brian in the man he is now? Will he think I’ve changed, too? Maybe he won’t recognize me.

  Never one to wear much makeup, she settled on just a light coating of mascara along with lip gloss and went into the kids’ room to put on a skirt, sleeveless top, and leather sandals. She checked herself one last time in a full-length mirror behind the door to Caren’s old room before she went downstairs.

  “You look lovely,” Carol said.

  “Not like I went to too much trouble, though, right?”

  “As lovely as always.”

  “My heart is pounding, and my palms are sweaty,” Carly confessed.

  Carol reached for Carly’s hands. “I’d be worried if your palms weren’t sweaty right now.”

  “Whose palms are sweaty?” Steve asked as he joined them by the front door.

  Carly tugged back her hands. “No one’s. Let’s go.”

  Carol brought a basket containing the extra meatloaf she had made for the Westburys as well as some of the brownies from the neighbor. They stepped into the soft summer evening to make the short walk.

  Seven hundred and eighty-six steps… Had it ever taken so long to walk seven hundred and eighty-six steps? By the time they stood in front of the Westbury’s house, Carly had to remind herself to breathe—in, out, in, out.

  Carol must have sensed Carly’s anxiety, because she slipped an arm around her daughter’s shoulders.

  Mary Ann answered the door with a delighted smile and hugs for all of them.

  Carol handed her the basket of food. “So you won’t have to cook one night.”

  “It smells wonderful, Carol! Thank you so much. Can I get you all something to drink? How about a beer, Steve?”

  “I won’t say no to that.”

  “That sounds good to me, too,” Carol said.

  “Nothing for me, thanks, Mrs. Westbury,” Carly said.

  “Carly,” Mary Ann said, reaching out to caress Carly’s cheek. “It’s so good to hear your voice, but you’re old enough to call me Mary Ann.”

  “Isn’t it amazing to hear her talking again?” Carol asked, her eyes filling with tears that
she brushed at with impatience. “I said I wasn’t going to cry about it anymore, and then here I go again.”

  Steve put a comforting arm around his wife.

  “Come on up.” Mary Ann led them up the short flight of stairs to the living room where Michael rested in a recliner.

  He dropped the footrest and got up. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you, young lady.”

  Wondering where the heck Brian was, Carly crossed the room to the chief and wrapped her arms around him. “You scared me,” she whispered.

  “Right back atcha, honey,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion. “You shaved about ten years off my life yesterday afternoon.”

  Carly hugged him for a long moment before she pulled back to study his face. He looked pale, but otherwise there was no sign of his recent ordeal. “Everything’s all right? With your heart?”

  “Hale and hearty,” he said with a smile.

  Every nerve in Carly’s body was suddenly on full alert, and she knew without turning around that Brian was hugging her mother and shaking hands with her father.

  “That’s a relief,” she forced herself to say to the chief. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

  “Not you, too,” Michael groaned. “I thought you and I were friends.”

  “We are.” Carly poked him lightly. “That’s why I want to keep you around for a while.”

  “I can’t get over you chattering away like you never stopped.”

  “I’m still getting used to it myself.”

  “My son is waiting patiently to say hello to you,” he whispered loud enough for the whole room to hear him.

  “Your son’s here?” she whispered back. “I hadn’t heard that.”

  Everyone laughed, which made it easier for her to finally turn around. And then there he was—her Brian, only older and, if possible, even more handsome than she could’ve imagined. Neither the pictures in the paper nor the TV cameras had done him justice. Feeling as if all the air had been sucked from her lungs, she stood perfectly still as he closed the distance between them.

  “My mother said you hadn’t changed at all,” he said. “I didn’t believe that was possible, but it seems she was right.”