The List (The Carolina Killer Files Book 2)

by Kiersten Modglin

  “Do you know the Cookes, then? Or the Turners? I guess you must.” Her husband spoke up, his voice kinder than she’d anticipated.

  She looked back toward the families. “No. I read about the funerals. I think it’s a lovely idea, having them together.”

  “Alex and Lindsey grew up together. It only seems right,” the man said, staring off behind Jordyn, where the caskets were.

  “Nothing about this is lovely,” Carrie said firmly, tears pouring from her eyes. “Nothing.”

  “Of course not,” Jordyn said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to suggest—” Jordyn stopped, taking a breath. “Actually, that’s why I’m here. I’m so sorry to do this now, but I just can’t help but remember how we met.”

  The woman swallowed, her voice firm. “How we met? I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I’m sorry to bring this up, especially under the circumstances, it’s just that on the day we met, you were saying…I’m sorry,” she apologized again, her mouth dry. “It’s just, it seemed as if you knew that this, that all of this, was going to happen.”

  “Excuse me?” The woman reeled back as if she’d been slapped.

  “I don’t mean to imply, I mean, of course you couldn’t have known.” She felt her face growing red. What had she gotten herself into? How in the world had she thought this conversation would go? She hadn’t. Hadn’t thought, she told herself. She was impulsive to a fault, Connor told her, and he was right. All her life Jordyn had jumped headfirst into whatever came her way, without looking back. She knew it was crazy. She could hear her mother’s voice ringing in her ears. “Look before you leap. Think before you speak.” But Jordyn was already headfirst into this, and she couldn’t sleep another night if she didn’t allow herself to ask the one question that had haunted her for months.

  She took a deep breath. “I know this isn’t the right place or the right time, I just have to know. What was The List? The one on the bulletin board at Benson’s? The one with Kinley’s name? And the others?”

  A tear streamed down the woman’s face, but she didn’t speak. Her bottom lip began to quiver. Before she could open her mouth, her husband placed his hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him. He pulled her into a hug, meeting Jordyn’s eyes. “You’re right, miss. This isn’t the right time. We’ve been through enough. You should go.”

  “Of course,” Jordyn whispered, tears forming in her eyes as well. “Of course. I’m sorry. Honestly.” She took a step back, feeling like a wolf chased off from its own pack. There were a few stragglers on their way to their cars who’d seen the confrontation, each looking at her in horror. She kissed Ollie’s head, thankful to have one person on her side no matter what, and ducked away from the crowd.

  ***

  That evening at dinner Jordyn bustled around the table, setting out dishes and preparing to eat. When everything was in its place, Connor took a sip of his wine and smiled up at her.

  “This looks delicious, babe.”

  Jordyn wiped her hands on her jeans before sinking down into her chair. She served herself a helping of lasagna and then put one on Connor’s plate. She took a sip of her wine as well, glancing into the den once more to make sure Ollie was still sleeping in his playpen.

  Connor cleared his throat, interrupting her thoughts. She looked his way. His eyebrows were raised. “So,” he began.

  She smiled at him, pressing her lips together, waiting. “So?”

  He sat his fork down. “So, what’s wrong?” He rubbed his hands over hers, his palms warm on her icy fingers.

  “What do you mean?” she asked innocently, opening her hand and turning it over so she could hold his.

  “Well, you organize when you’re upset. When I came home, our entire closet, including my ties, was organized by color and designer.” He smiled slyly.

  “I always try to get you to do that anyway. I was just bored this afternoon.”

  “You also alphabetized all of our food and cleaning supplies.” His brow raised, he took another sip of wine.

  “It just makes it so much easier to find things.” She smiled, knowing she wasn’t fooling him. Connor knew her better than she knew herself most days.

  “Sweetheart, what is it?”

  “Today was Alex and Lindsey’s funeral.” She frowned, looking at him in frustration.

  “The couple that died in the field? I didn’t realize they were having the funerals together. I had an arrangement sent to both.”

  “Yes, I saw.”

  “You saw? What do you mean you? Jordyn, tell me you didn’t go to that funeral.” He sat his glass down quickly, sloshing wine onto the table.

  “I had to,” she said stubbornly, grabbing a hand towel off the back of an empty chair and wiping up the wine.

  He grabbed her arm gently, taking the towel from her. “You had to?”

  “I had to talk to Carrie. I didn’t know how else to find her.”

  “Carrie? Remind me who that is.”

  “The mother of the little girl who passed away last month, Kinley. The allergic reaction.”

  “Right. Why did you need to talk to her then?”

  “I had to ask her. She’s the only one who can answer me.”

  He rubbed his mouth firmly, his body tense. “You went to the funeral of two teenage kids in order to catch the mother of a child who died last month so that you could tell her that you think her child might have been murdered and that you also think they knew it was coming because there was a list with her name on it in a grocery store and that’s the only possible solution?”

  “It sounds crazy. I know.” She sat back down, watching his jaw throb. It was rare that she saw her husband angry, but she knew this was coming.

  “Dammit, Jordyn, you sound bat shit crazy. You can’t just do that. I know you don’t mean any harm, but how was she supposed to take that? I mean, what? Do you think she killed her daughter? What exactly were you accusing her of? Accusing anyone of?” He stood from his chair, a desperate look on his face. “Jesus, Jor, I don’t understand what was going through your mind. In what universe was that a good idea?”

  Her face grew red, her chin trembling. She bat back tears carefully. She hated when he scolded her, hated it more when he was right. “I don’t know, Connor. It’s not like I’m trying to be difficult. I just want so bad to help these people. I want to understand what’s happening here. Something is not right about this town. Children are just dying constantly, and no one’s even batting an eye.” She stood up, facing him. “And I just wish that someone believed me.”

  “I want to believe you, Jor. Of course I do. But what are you asking me to believe? What is it that you believe?” His voice lowered as he spoke, his body calming.

  “I really believe something is wrong here. Something is very off about this town. The people here are hiding something.”

  Connor stared at her, his lips wrinkling up like he’d smelled something sour, his eyes darting back and forth between hers. “Okay,” he said finally.

  “Okay?” she asked.

  He nodded, his eyes locked with hers. “I need to see this list.”

  ***

  As they pulled up next to Benson’s Deli, Jordyn wondered why she hadn’t thought of this sooner, why she hadn’t brought it to the police in the first place. Once she had the list, someone had to believe her. She shut the car off, climbing out, worry and determination radiating from her. Jordyn felt Connor’s hand on her back, pushing her gently forward.

  “Do you remember exactly where it is?” he asked.

  She nodded, pulling the blanket further up over Ollie’s head. The October night had grown colder than she expected. She hated having to drag Ollie outside. The automatic doors opened as they grew near, and Jordyn focused on the bulletin board immediately, which was littered with ads for yard services and carpet cleaners. Her eyes wandered, searching.

  “Here. It’s on here somewhere,” she said, trying to point with her elbow, both arms cradling her son. Connor b
egan shifting papers around, lifting business cards and unpinning newspaper clippings. His search revealed no List.

  “Where?” he asked, pulling his hands back.

  “It’s there. It has to be,” she whined.

  “Here, let me take him. You show me.” He held out his arms, pulling Ollie to him.

  The infant began fussing as soon as he left his mother’s arms, but Jordyn was already engrossed in the board. She pulled each page down, desperately searching. In the end, she’d overturned each page. The List was gone.

  A bag boy walked past, carrying a box of produce, causing the automatic doors to open into the store. The cold air from inside of the building hit them with a gust.

  “Hey,” Jordyn called out, rushing into the store.

  The boy turned, his glasses drifting down his nose. Jordyn heard Ollie cry out, his wails growing quickly. He was hungry. Her breasts grew heavy, painful.

  “Excuse me,” she said to the young man, crossing her arms to distract herself from the pain. “How often do you guys clean off that bulletin board out there?”

  The boy leaned the box over onto a shelf of tomatoes, pushing his glasses back up. “The bulletin board? Um, I think the owner does it every few weeks or whenever it gets full, really. Is your ad missing or something?”

  “No. Not exactly.” Behind her, Ollie’s screams grew louder. She could hear Connor trying to soothe him. The bag boy eyed her strangely, looking between her and the baby.

  “Okay, well I’m just part-time. I don’t really have anything to do with the board. People tear things down and put up new ones all the time. We can’t really do anything about that.”

  “So, when you clean it off, does everything get thrown away?”

  “Pretty much. Is there anything else I can help you with? I should really get back to work.” He glanced behind her, where she knew Ollie must be red-faced and mad.

  “Do you keep any sort of records for who hangs up maybe? Or do you have cameras?” she asked, speaking over Ollie.

  “What’s all this about?” The voice of an older gentleman boomed from behind the boy. His polo shirt introduced him as Bernard, the manager.

  “She’s asking about the bulletin board,” the boy answered.

  The manager patted his arm. “Go on back to work, Cody. I’ve got it from here.” He smiled at him kindly.

  “I hope I didn’t get him into trouble. My husband and I are just looking for a flyer that I saw on your board a few months ago,” Jordyn said apologetically. Connor walked up beside her, handing Ollie over. The baby nuzzled into Jordyn’s chest, calming slightly.

  “I see.” He scratched his head. “Well, we clean our bulletin board the second Thursday of every month. Anything that’s up there gets thrown away. If we didn’t clean it, it’d be a mess to look at. I’m sorry, miss.”

  “No, I understand. Is it you that cleans it? Maybe you’d remember the list I’m looking for?”

  “Sometimes I do.” He shrugged. “What do you mean ‘list’? Like a shopping list? People mostly post ads, lost pets, stuff like that. I can’t say I’ve ever seen a list.”

  “It was a list of names. Six names.”

  Was it her imagination or had the man’s face grown white? He placed his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Like I said, the board is a mess. We just toss whatever is there. Don’t have much time for reading.”

  “Do you have any cameras out there? Maybe you could help me find whoever put it up to begin with?”

  The man shifted in his shoes, obviously agitated. “I don’t really know. You got a warrant or something?”

  “No, I’m not a cop. I was just hoping you could help me.” Ollie’s sweat was now gathering on her chest as he wriggled in her arms, searching for food. She cursed herself for leaving his diaper bag and bottles in the car.

  “No. I’m sorry, but I can’t. Our security tapes are endless and it’d be up to the owner to give you the copies anyway. I don’t suggest that you ask him either. Now, I’m sorry, but we close in two hours and I’ve still got a lot to do before then.” He backed away, breaking eye contact with her immediately.

  Ollie’s gums clamped down on her breast through her shirt, causing her to jump. She turned around, meeting Connor’s eyes. He shook his head, an unreadable look on his face. Together, they left the store after hitting a dead end once again.

  ***

  On the way home, the couple rode in silence. Connor drove while Jordyn rode in the back, her hand over Ollie as he slept in his car seat. She’d made Connor wait in the parking lot so that she could feel the baby, a headache already developing. She’d needed the calm as much as Ollie had needed food.

  Connor kept glancing up at her in the rearview, his eyes illuminated by the blue dashboard lights in the car. Finally, he spoke. “So are we going to talk about this?”

  “About what?” she asked. Her throat was dry, her head throbbing.

  “About your obsession with everything that’s been happening. I know you’ve been dealing with a lot lately. I know that this move hasn’t been easy on you, quitting your job, leaving your family back home. And I know how much you do for Ollie. I mean, it’s been a crazy few months. Your doctor mentioned this might happen, you know. Maybe it’s time we made an appointment to see her.” He spoke fast, his voice nervous.

  “What are you talking about, Connor?” she asked through gritted teeth.

  “You’re just so tired. You haven’t been sleeping well.”

  “Our son is six months old, Connor. Of course I haven’t been sleeping well,” she said harshly.

  “I know that. I’m just saying that your doctor did tell us that after Ollie was born your hormones would be messed up for a while. All of this stress is just adding to it.”

  “I’m not crazy,” she said adamantly, her blood pressure rising with each word he spoke.

  “No, sweetheart, of course you aren’t. No. I’m just saying, I feel like you’re worried about Ollie, and finding a new job, and the new house. I think that, maybe, with all of these children passing, I think maybe that’s just a way for you to displace your stress. Postpartum depression is a very common thing. I’ve been doing a lot of research, even asked some of the guys at work. I’m sure that your doctor can—”

  Jordyn removed her hand from Ollie’s car seat. “I cannot believe we are actually having this conversation right now. I am not depressed. I’m not crazy. I’m not exhausted. I’m not stressed. The only stress I have, Connor,” she spat his name, “is that my husband doesn’t believe me when I tell him that something strange is going on in this town. Something with the children.”

  “Listen to yourself, Jordyn. I’ve tried to believe you, honey, God knows I’ve tried. I took you to the police station. You stalked a funeral and basically attacked a store clerk all for this damn list that no one else seems to know anything about.” His voice grew louder, his eyes darting to hers in the mirror.

  “Why would I just imagine this? Do you think that I like feeling this way?” she begged.

  “For all we know, there was a list—”

  “There was,” she interrupted.

  “Fine. There was. But you’ve blown it completely out of proportion. Now, I’ve gone with you, I’ve done everything that you’ve asked me to do in order to prove you right, but nothing has come of it, okay? Now, I need you to stop it. And I’m not asking, Jordyn. You have to stop or I’m calling your doctor and we’re getting you help. You can’t do this anymore. Not ever.” He paused. “I’m worried about you. I’m really, really scared for you.” His voice was soft now, yet there was a firmness that made her eyes fill with tears. She hoped he couldn’t see them in the mirror.

  As they pulled into the driveway, she unbuckled their son, pulling him gently into her arms before climbing out of the car. Connor walked in front of her, glancing back every once in a while without speaking. Probably worried that his crazy wife is going to run off into the wilderness, she thought to herself. She kissed Ollie’s hea
d, breathing in his warmth. “I’m not crazy,” she whispered into his ear, mostly for her own peace of mind. I’m not crazy, she added internally, just so her brain could hear it too.

  Chapter Seven

  Jordyn stared at the computer screen with a blank expression. She had tried to let it go; she really had. For the past three nights she and Connor had gotten along great. The List hadn’t been mentioned a single time. And yet she couldn’t keep her mind from drifting there, especially late at night. It kept her up, tossing and turning for hours on end while her husband slept peacefully next to her. Tonight, she’d had enough. She made her way to the spare room they used as an office, once Connor had fallen asleep. Staring at the screen, she couldn’t, for the life of her, figure out what to search for.

  She started with the town: Bates, South Carolina. Children. Deaths. She added words to narrow the search. Pages upon pages of results flooded her computer. Stories, articles, interviews, deaths—all dating back several years. She clicked through a dozen pages of obituaries before she realized there was a tear rolling down her cheek. So many lives ended too early, all of them children, infants, teenagers, toddlers. Surely someone had noticed this? She couldn’t believe no one had ever questioned it. Children didn’t just drop dead at this rate in a town of only a few thousand people.

  About five pages in, there was one article that caught her eye. She clicked on it.

  Local Child is Attacked by Rabid Dog

  Last week, a seven-year-old girl was attacked by a rabid dog in her backyard. The child, daughter of Merle and Marlene Scottsdale of Bates, was playing outdoors when her parents heard her screams. By the time they were able to rush out to the yard, the girl was on the ground covered in blood, the bone in her right arm sticking out. The dog was nowhere to be found.

  “It was terrible,” Marlene Scottsdale said, “Her screams were enough to make you sick, and then all of that blood. No one should have to see their child so hurt.” After a trip to the hospital by ambulance, the girl was treated and given a preventative rabies vaccination. Two days ago, she was brought home from the hospital to recover. The girl claims that a man told her to unlock the gate and set the dog free, which she did, resulting in the attack. There are no other witnesses to the crime at this time, and local police are currently refusing to look into the girl’s allegations, even though the last documented case of a rabies-fueled attack in this area was over five years ago.