by Amy Cross
“But if -”
“He hasn't hurt her yet,” he adds. “We'd be able to hear her screams if he'd done that.”
“He knocked her out with drugs!”
“Trust me!” He holds my wrist tightly for a moment, before letting go, then he turns and starts making his way toward the cabin, leaving me feeling completely powerless.
Taking my gun from its holster, I check that it's ready to fire and then I watch as Lenny opens the cabin's door and steps inside. As soon as he's out of sight, I start making my way after him, and I swear to God it's going to take all my restraint to keep from ending Neil's miserable life as soon as I set eyes on him. In fact, the only thing holding me back is the knowledge that ignoring the rule of law is how we ended up in this mess in the first place. This time, Neil Bloom is going to rot in a cell and then he's going to face the full weight of the justice system and then -
Suddenly a figure steps out of the cabin, and I'm shocked to see that it's Lenny, carrying Alex's unconscious body.
“Alex!” I yell, racing forward and taking her from his arms. Turning her so that I can see better in the moonlight, I'm relieved to realize that her clothes are intact. A moment later, however, I see that there's a nasty cut on her right arm.
“Neil got a little confused,” Lenny explains. “It's not a deep cut.”
“What did he do to her?”
“He says it was an accident. He says when he was carrying her, her arm caught on a nail sticking out from the doorway. I believe him.”
“Alex, say something!” I stammer, gently tapping the side of her face. “Alex, it's Daddy! Wake up!”
“We got here just in time,” he continues. “Another half hour or so, and he would have started his... Well, let's just leave it at that. It's quite clear to me that something must have changed in Neil. He's no longer a man I can trust, and that means there must be consequences.”
“If he's touched her,” I stammer, with tears in my eyes, “I swear I'll make him pay!”
“He hasn't touched her, Michael.”
“He knocked my wife out!”
“And he'll pay for that.”
“He -”
Before I can finish, Neil steps out of the cabin. He glances back into the cabin, as if he's uncertain about something he's left in there, and then he turns to me.
“You son of a bitch!” I hiss, with my drugged-out little girl still in my arms. Adjusting my hold of her slightly, I struggle to get my gun ready.
“I made a mistake,” he says, his voice trembling with fear. “I did an awful thing. I was about to hurt her, and I wouldn't have been able to stop myself. Thank God Lenny showed up.”
“You're going to spend the rest of your life in jail!” I tell him.
“I can explain!”
“The hell you can!”
I know I should just take him in, but I've never felt this kind of anger before. My finger's resting on the trigger, and my mind is already racing as I try to think of an excuse to shoot this bastard. I'm in charge around here, and I know deep down that nobody would question my actions too much, especially once they learned about Neil's crimes. Even if people suspected that I'd not acted entirely to defend myself, I think they'd quietly approve. And Railham would be safe.
I should just end this miserable monster's life right now.
“You don't know what it's been like,” he whimpers, raising his hands as if he expects mercy. There are tears in his eyes too, and he looks utterly pathetic. “I feel like I've been holding something in my whole life, and now it's bursting out and I don't know if I can stop it. I need help!”
“I don't think anyone can help you, Neil.”
I can't do this. I can't shoot a man in cold blood, not when he's got his hands up. At the same time, the desire to end his life is building, surging in my chest, and I don't know if I can hold back forever. Finally, slowly, while keeping Alex balanced in my arms, I aim the gun at Neil.
“Help me,” he whimpers suddenly. “Kill me.”
“Shut up!”
“Please,” he continues, suddenly dropping to his knees, staring up at me with tear-filled eyes. “I'll do it again. I know I will. I'll do it again and again. I want you to stop me.”
My finger twitches, but not hard enough to pull the trigger.
“Please,” Neil sobs, before turning and looking back toward the cabin. “I'm sorry!” he shouts. “I couldn't -”
Suddenly a gunshot rings out and one side of Neil's head explodes, splattering blood across me as he slumps forward and hits the ground. Startled, I see that Lenny is standing behind him, holding a gun in his right hand. As I see a curl of smoke coming from the barrel of his gun, I start to lower my own.
Blood is running from what's left of Neil's head, flowing between pieces of broken skull.
“It was the only way,” Lenny explains calmly. “If he'd gone to jail, he'd only have taken up space.”
“Are you sure you weren't just worried he'd spill your dirty secrets?” I sneer.
“I just wish I'd done this sooner,” he continues. “I can only hope that perhaps Alex will be spared the memories of what happened to her tonight, or of what almost happened. I mean, kids are resilient, right?”
“You killed him,” I stammer, taking a step back. “You executed him!”
“I sure did. As if I hadn't done it, you would have.”
I shake my head.
“Of course you would,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I saw it in you just now. Another few seconds and you'd have ended the bastard's miserable life. You should be thankful, Michael. Now I'm the one who has to live with the guilt, instead of you.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I ask, before looking down at Alex and seeing that although she's still asleep, some of Neil's blood is on the side of her face.
I quickly wipe the blood away, desperate to get rid of every trace of this horrific night.
“You should take her home now,” Lenny says calmly. “Louisa should be home soon too. I understand that her injuries were mostly fairly superficial, and I assure you that little Alex is going to be quite alright. Children are so tough, aren't they? If she remembers any of this at all, she'll probably just think that it was a bad dream. You could help with that, Michael. You could encourage her to forget this entire nightmare.”
“I can't just let you get away with killing a man!”
“I'm not going to get away with it,” he replies. “For one thing, I don't think I'll ever stop replaying that moment in my mind. And for another, I'm quite sure that you'll bring the full weight of the law against me. But please, wait until tomorrow before you do that. Give me time to do what needs doing out here, and to sort out some other details. And then you can do whatever you wish with me, Michael, once it's all over.”
He pauses, before stepping closer and reaching out to brush his fingers against the side of Alex's face.
“Such a beautiful -”
“Don't touch her!” I hiss, taking another step back. “If you ever touch my daughter, I swear to God I will kill you, even if I have to spend the rest of my life in jail!”
He pulls back.
“You should go home,” he says after a moment. “You're getting emotional, Michael. Take the girl home, tuck her safe and sound into bed. She's drugged right now, and when that wears off she might feel groggy, so -”
“I don't need you to tell me how to look after my daughter!” I snap. “She'll be fine! And hopefully she won't remember any of this.” Looking down at her, I watch her sleeping face for a moment and then I see the deep cut on her right arm. If she ends up with a scar, I'll just have to come up with a fake explanation, and then I swear I'll make sure she never learns the truth. Reaching down, I wipe a little more of Neil Bloom's blood from the side of her face.
For as long as she lives, Alex will never have to know what almost happened to her tonight, and how close she came to suffering the same fate as Mo Garvey. Or that it was my fault.
Chapter Th
irty-Seven
Alex Roberts
Today
“I was a deputy under your father,” Harry explains once we're in his front room, and once he's given me a towel so I can at least dry my hair. “That was all I ever wanted. To help people. To help my town, and keep it safe. I wasn't a complicated man, I never wanted to be the boss. Being a deputy was enough. I was actually the first one out there to Valder's Wood when little Mo was found. I never forgot the sight of...”
He hesitates, and I can tell that this is difficult for him.
“Ah hell,” he adds with a sigh. “I thought writing about it was hard. Talking is a whole other ballgame.”
“Did my father kill Mo Garvey?” I ask.
He hesitates.
“He didn't, did he?” I continue, feeling a crushing weight in my chest. “It was all a lie.”
“I tried to get to the truth,” he explains. “I swear to you, I did everything I could, but people wanted to believe that it was over. They wanted to believe that there was no more evil in Railham.”
“They preferred a lie?”
“Your father was a good man,” he says after a moment. “Maybe the best I ever knew. He cared about this town and he dedicated his life to keeping us all safe. If he had a flaw, that was it. He cared so much, but he thought he could make everybody feel safe all the time. No-one can do that.” He pauses, keeping his eyes fixed on me. “Did you read the book I published?”
I shake my head. “I only found out about it yesterday.”
“Mo Garvey was murdered by a local man named Neil Bloom,” he continues. “Neil was a timber merchant by day and an amateur stock trader by night. He was part of the scenery around here. A popular man. Turns out, he'd lived his whole life trying to suppress these urges he felt whenever he was around little kids. Little girls, specifically. No-one knew, or at least I think no-one knew, but then one night it all came bursting out. From what I can tell, he happened to find Mo Garvey wandering alone near the forest, and he seized the opportunity. A lifetime of repressed desire came untapped.”
“He kidnapped her?”
“And more.”
“What kind of more?”
“You don't want to know. Whatever you can guess, I promise you it was worse.”
Feeling a shudder pass through my chest, I look down at the cup of tea Harry prepared for me.
“I saw her body in Doc Milford's exam room,” he continues. “She was resting on that tray of cold steel. One side of her chest was so badly beaten, so bruised and battered, I doubt there was still an intact bone to be found. And the things he'd done to her face were shocking. I had trouble holding myself together. When your father and Doc Milford left the room, I wept.” Reaching up, he touches the side of his cheek. “Her eye sockets were -”
“I know,” I reply, not really wanting him to go into details. “I saw the photos.”
“You mean the ones that leaked online?”
“I'd already seen them before somehow. I remember what her face looked like from when I was a kid.”
“Well, that shouldn't be the case,” he replies. “You should never have seen her back then. No-one should.”
“I guess my father left some photos around the house.”
“Absolutely not. Your father was a good and honest man, and he sure as hell wasn't careless.”
“It's okay,” I reply, “you don't need to lie. I've heard enough about my father over the years to know that he was a bad person.”
“No,” he continues, shaking his head. “You're wrong. What happened to your father, what was done to his name, was sickening. That man -”
“I didn't come here to talk about him,” I say firmly.
“He was excoriated,” he stammers, as a tear runs down his cheek. “I tried to speak up, I tried to defend him, but your father's name was dragged through the mud and he was blamed for everything bad that happened in this town! Mayor Johnson, all the -”
“I don't need to know this.”
“Yes, you do! Your father -”
“My father was a monster!” I snap, before forcing myself to back off a little. “My father lost his mind and murdered three innocent people, and -”
“No, he didn't.” He sighs. “I can't tell you half the story, Alex. It's all or nothing.”
“Can we please just talk about Mo Garvey, and about what happened back then?”
He pauses for a moment, before looking at my right arm.
“That scar was caused by a nail,” he says cautiously, “that ripped your skin while you were being carried into a cabin by Neil Bloom.”
I feel a shudder run through my chest.
“No,” I stammer finally.
“No?”
“You said Neil Bloom killed Mo Garvey,” I point out, but now my voice is trembling with fear. “Why would he have been anywhere near me?”
“Neil Bloom abducted you from your home. He knocked your mother unconscious and took you, after your father had stopped him taking another girl. Your father went after him and got you back before Neil could do anything to you, but if he hadn't, or if he'd been just an hour or two later...”
His voice trails off.
“I wasn't kidnapped,” I tell him, with tears in my eyes. “I'd know if that had happened. I'd remember.”
“History states,” Harry continues, “that your father, Sheriff Michael Blaine, shot Neil Bloom and then lost his mind. That he killed Lenny Johnson and a couple of other men, and that he'd already killed Mo Garvey. But that version couldn't be further from the truth. I can't claim to know exactly what happened at your house on that awful night when your father died, but I know in my heart that he was no murderer.”
“Everyone says he was a killer,” I point out, with tears in my eyes. “That's all I've heard for the past twenty years.”
“I'm telling you the truth,” he continues. “I knew Michael. He was one of my best friends, and I saw how devoted he was to you, and to your mother. Now, like I said, I don't know exactly what happened on that final night, on August 30th 1997, but I've pieced together as much as I can, and I've come up with the most likely scenario. The only problem is that in order to accept it as true, you have to be able to believe in something that might be something of a challenge.”
“And what's that?”
He stares at me for a moment, and I can see that he's worried about continuing.
“Tell me something,” he adds finally. “Do you believe in ghosts?”
“What kind of ghosts?”
“People who come back from the dead,” he continues, shuffling closer to me. “People who die horrible, painful deaths and then come back for revenge.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Sheriff Michael Blaine
20 years ago
“She's going to be fine,” Tom Milford says as he finishes examining the wound on Alex's arm. “She might have a headache when she wakes up, she might be a little disorientated, but that's from the sedative he gave her. She might even vomit, but the important thing is that there'll be no long-term side-effects.”
“Maybe not physically,” I whisper, staring at Alex's sleeping face. “What about mentally?”
He dabs at the wound one more time with a swab, before gently rearranging the bed-sheets until they cover her body up to the chest.
“There'll probably be a scar,” he continues, “but all kids have scars. I mean, Diane and I never had any of our own, but every kid who's ever come into my surgery has had some kind of scar. It's part of growing up. You can just invent a cute little story for her to believe.”
He turns and smiles at me, but I don't feel much like smiling. As I stare down at Alex's face, I can't help thinking about what might have happened to her if I hadn't reached the cabin in time. In my mind's eye, I keep seeing the damage that Neil Bloom caused to Mo Garvey before he killed her, and the thought of something similar happening to my little girl is too much to contemplate. At the same time, for some reason I can't stop imagining her screaming i
n that cabin, desperately trying and failing to fight Neil away.
“We'll go to hell for what we did,” Tom says suddenly.
I turn to him.
“The moment we agreed to let Lenny Johnson deal with Neil Bloom,” he continues, “we forfeited any right to call ourselves good men. But for the grace of God, Neil would have killed again.”
I pause, before nodding. There's a grinding sense of anger in my belly, and I feel as if I want to tear his goddamn head from his body.
“This little girl knows nothing of what happened,” he points out, turning back to look at Alex. “She's innocent. Pure. If you want my advice, Michael, you and Louisa will take her away from Railham. If there's even the slightest chance that any of this darkness might come back to touch her again, you have to get her away. Even if she doesn't remember the details, she might sense them somehow. You have to get her out of here.”
“I know.”
It's true. I do know. He's right.
“Did he touch her?” I ask.
“Michael -”
“Did he touch her?” I ask again, this time with tears in my eyes.
“Alex is going to be fine.”
“You already told me that. But did he touch her when he had her in the cabin? Did he do anything to her?”
He hesitates, as if he doesn't want to answer that question.
“There's no sign of anything,” he says finally. “I can't completely rule out some kind of disturbance, but there's certainly nothing that left a mark. She has absolutely no injuries, no sign of tampering anywhere, and she would certainly have been unconscious. As far as I can tell, he hadn't had a chance to get started yet.”
“But you can't be sure?”
“Michael, I can't prove a negative.”
Stepping closer to Alex, I look down at her. Just the thought that she could have been hurt makes me want to take my gun and deal with anyone who might have enabled this. Unfortunately, even as my anger continues to grow and grow, I already know that there's one person whose culpability angers me the most.
