“F-f-freezing.”
The mountain runoff that had been snow a month earlier quickly soaked my clothes and pasted against my frigid skin.
“Christ, your hoodie and shirt are soaked right through. Take them off.”
I just stood there violently shaking. He moved as if to help me and I backed away.
“Quick! You need to take them off or you’ll get hypothermia!” He pulled off his own windbreaker and held it around me. “Take them off and wear my jacket.”
My fingers numbly fumbled with the zipper of the hoodie, but my hands shook so hard I couldn’t work the simple mechanics. Swiftly Pierce came up behind me and yanked the hoodie up over my head and my T-shirt with it. I wanted to be mortified but I was too cold. At least my back was to him and my soaking bra was still on.
I heard his sudden intake of breath and a mumbled curse as he tugged the jacket down to cover my back, and I was immediately ashamed and mortified by what he’d seen but too frozen to process those emotions. With a quick motion I reached up inside the jacket and unsnapped my soaking bra and pulled it through the sleeve. The waistband of my jeans was also wet but there was no way in hell I was taking those off. I couldn’t stop shaking.
He gathered my wet clothes in a ball, picked up the rods I dropped, then rushed me back up to the car with an arm securely around my waist. He started up the vehicle, cranked the heat and my seat warmer. Leaving the engine running, he got out, popped the trunk and returned with a large sweatshirt.
“I keep my gym clothes in a bag in the trunk. They’re a little rank but better than nothing.” He tossed the navy sweatshirt at me. “It’ll definitely be more comfortable than a nylon jacket with nothing underneath.”
“I-I’m okay.” I exhaled loudly against my chattering teeth. “God, I c-can’t believe I’m so f-fucking clumsy.”
“That was my fault. You had your arms out and you were concentrating. I should’ve warned you.”
“You d-did.”
“Just put on the damn sweatshirt and I’ll take you home.” His voice was angry as he turned his body away from me. “Tell me when you’re done.”
I wanted to protest but the nylon jacket was flimsy and as uncomfortable as crisp chilled plastic wrap against my skin. Even though the sweatshirt was large enough to fit two of me, it would be more comfortable. Turning my own body sideways I unzipped the jacket, slipped it off and quickly slid the sweatshirt over my head. It was faded and worn and smelled faintly of him. Once I had it on, I slipped the nylon jacket over it.
“I’m done. Th-thanks.” I buckled up my seat belt. “I’m sorry we didn’t find anything and then I f-fell and—”
“Not your fault.”
His words were clipped. He was definitely pissed off and wouldn’t even look at me as he accelerated out of the area. I put in my earbuds and turned away. Half an hour later he pulled up to my trailer.
“I’ll just go inside and change and then I’ll bring out your sweatshirt and jacket,” I said.
“How long were you together with that Denny guy?”
“What? Why?” I looked at him wondering what the hell that had to do with anything.
“How long, damn it?!”
He slammed the palm of his hand on the dash, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I flung the car door open and my feet ate up the gravel drive. He was behind me and stopped me with a hand on my shoulder that made me flinch.
He sighed.
“Sorry. How long, Julie?” he asked, quieter this time, his voice pleading.
“I don’t know...” I stared at him with uncertainty and dragged a hand through my hair. “Like maybe six months or something.” I dug my keys out of my purse. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“So then it wasn’t him.” He rubbed the back of his neck and his face scrunched up in concentration.
“It wasn’t him that what?”
But as soon as the words left my mouth I knew. He’d seen my back when he ripped off my T-shirt and hoodie. He’d seen the ugly raised scars that crisscrossed my back and knew enough about the healing process on this type of disfigurement to know that the marks were older than six months.
“Who then? Who did that to you?”
“It doesn’t matter.” My face got hot and I felt myself blush as I headed for the trailer and stabbed my key in the lock. He was right behind me.
“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” His voice was incredulous as he followed me inside.
I turned in my small kitchen to face him with a straight backbone and as much confidence in my voice as humanly possibly when dealing with such massive humiliation.
“Listen, Agent, I appreciate your concern but this is really none of your business. It’s old news. Seriously.”
“Old news,” he parroted and licked his lips. “Tell me someone did time for that, Julie. Someone went to jail, right?”
“You should go.”
But he didn’t budge so he stayed in the kitchen and I headed to my bedroom without answering. I stripped out of his huge sweatshirt and jacket. Then I took off my damp jeans and reappeared a few seconds later wearing my thick old terrycloth housecoat and fluffy slippers. There he sat at my kitchen table with his head in his hands. I balled up the shirt and jacket and tossed both. They landed on the table in front of him.
“Tell me the truth.” He turned slowly to look me in the eye. His voice was cooled steel. “I feel like I need to kill someone for that. I need to know.”
“Jesus,” I muttered. “Let it go.”
The barely contained rage in his voice made me uneasy. Why did he care? What did it matter? Goddammit, I wish he’d never seen those old scars! When Denny had noticed the deep grooves and marks, of course he’d asked about them. I’d told him that they were from an accident when I was younger. He’d left it. Never even asked what kind of accident. Thank God.
I grabbed a Coke from the fridge and leaned casually against the counter as I snapped the can open. I wanted to give Pierce the same line about it being an accident but he knew it wasn’t. In his line of work he’d seen marks on people and knew when something was intentional.
“She’s dead, okay? So it doesn’t even matter. Please don’t make this a big deal.” I took a couple of gulps from my Coke. The cold burned my throat. “Oh shit, don’t look at me like that,” I pleaded.
He looked away but not before I caught the look of horror laced with pity that painted the color of his face as realization dawned.
“Your grandmother.”
There was a palpable shift in the air of the room. We’d become, if not friends, then a bizarre kind of coworkers. Today in the car it hadn’t even felt weird being in his passenger seat as we talked about self-help books. The axis of that now shifted. I was now a victim and an object of pity to be talked to like a toddler and treated with kid gloves. Pierce just sat there at my table shaking his head with a mixture of sadness and disgust. It humiliated me to watch him try to wrap his head around the idea that my grandmother had permanently disfigured my body. Hot shame boiled in my belly. I felt like I was standing there naked while he judged me, and I pulled the belt of my robe tighter.
“Okay, I’m going to have to get ready to take Gramps out for his birthday dinner so-o-o...” I looked at him and then at the door.
“Oh. Yeah. Sure.”
He got up and walked the short distance to the door and stuffed his feet back into his shoes. He had his hand on the door handle when he abruptly turned around and strode the couple steps back toward me, his face pulled taut with determination. I flinched when he wrapped his long arms around me and hugged me so hard and so tight against his chest that I could not even lift my arms from my sides. I just stood there as he squeezed me against his body, my face buried against him and his chin on the top of my head. Then, just as suddenly, he release
d me and walked out of the trailer.
He didn’t have to say a word for me to know that it was goodbye.
Chapter Five
I heard his car kick up the gravel as he drove off.
“Fuck.”
Forcefully, I rubbed my eyes with the heel of my palms and choked back a ball of regret that was lumped in my throat. He’d left his sweater and jacket on the kitchen table. I gathered them up and stuffed them into an overflowing closet. Then I cleared my throat and called Gramps.
“Are ya hungry?” I asked with forced enthusiasm.
“Starved,” he assured me.
“Good. I’ll be there in half an hour.”
The two of us didn’t go out to eat often so I took extra care to put on a dress and some makeup even though we were only going to the buffet inside the Bellingham mall.
“You look spiffy,” he said when I walked into his house.
“Well, not as gussied up as you.” I whistled in admiration at his wrinkled button-down shirt and khakis. “I don’t know if those pants are such a wise decision though. You might want to wear your sweatpants on account of I know how much you’re going to eat.”
Wookie could sense the happiness so he jumped and barked playfully at us.
“I’m entitled to eat like a pig,” Gramps rubbed his belly. “Wookie and I took a mile-long walk today.”
“Really?”
“Well, he mostly chased rabbits and I followed him but, yeah, it was at least a mile. We circled the property.”
My mind tilted to the sheds that backed onto the acreage. It was an area I steadfastly avoided. Quicksand thoughts slipped in and threatened to stay.
“It was a cold day for a walk,” I said quickly.
“Sure was. I had to wear my parka but my ears still froze. That wind felt like the Canadian Rockies for sure.”
Memory of falling into the icy creek earlier caused me to break out in goose bumps. Gramps talked about how spring was going to turn into summer before long and then we’d be complaining about the heat. I smiled, nodded distractedly and scratched Wookie’s hard skull in the area between his ears.
“Let’s go. I’m starved.”
The words were mine but, truthfully, hunger wasn’t my motivator. I just wanted off the property for a short period of time at least.
We climbed in my Jeep and drove to the Bellingham mall. The buffet restaurant was about half filled and we were seated in a worn booth near the food. Gramps went back to refill his plate three times and I laughed when every single time he moaned in ecstasy at simple things like fried chicken and mac ‘n cheese as if these luxuries had been denied him for years.
“I can’t eat another bite,” he announced, pushing his last plate away.
“What about dessert?”
“I can’t move. I unbuckled my belt fifteen minutes ago. My drawers will fall on the ground if I get up and I’m too full to bend over and pick them up. Nobody here needs that kind of after-dinner show.”
“Should’ve worn your sweatpants.” I snorted with laughter.
I got up and fetched us each a warm chocolate brownie with soft-serve ice cream. After I put it in front of him, I stabbed his with a small candle and made him wait while I asked people around us for a lighter. Once it was lit, the entire restaurant joined in to sing “Happy birthday.” Gramps beamed.
He managed to keep his pants held up until I delivered him home. He immediately changed into a worn T-shirt and sweats, then happily settled onto his new recliner. Wookie placed his large head on Gramps’s lap and looked up at him with adoration...or with hope there’d been some bacon smuggled home from the restaurant.
I took a seat on the couch and turned on the TV.
“You’re too good to me.” Gramps yawned and stretched and offered me a languid half-smile.
“Everyone deserves a good meal on their birthday.” I smiled back.
We watched an old movie but he fell asleep halfway through, leaving me to feel uneasy listening to the creaks and groans of the old house. A few months after Grandma died, Gramps went away on a fishing trip. He’d been making noises about putting away Grandma’s things but hadn’t been able to get the job done. Katie and I used the time he was away to pack up all Grandma’s stuff. We brought it to Goodwill, leaving only a few small keepsakes inside a curio cabinet in Gramps’s bedroom. We bought a ton of paint and painted the entire inside, changing it from the dingy eggshell color it had always been into soft grays and bright white trim. I ran out of money when it came time to replace the drapes but Katie thought it was going too far anyway to change absolutely everything. Still, I replaced the bristly brown front door mat with a pale blue one with yellow daisies that actually said Welcome and made you feel like it meant it.
Even with all those cosmetic changes, as I sat now in the house where I grew up, the new paint did nothing to keep the weight of the air from pressing heavily on my throat. It was why I lived in the old trailer down the road rather than here with Gramps. If the house burned to ash and was rebuilt entirely new on this same spot, I still wouldn’t be able to stay the night. The very ground here was tainted, quite literally, with my blood.
With quicksand thoughts threatening to drown out the memories of a happy birthday, I kissed Gramps on the top of his sleeping head, gathered up Wookie and brought the dog back to the trailer. It wasn’t very late and I wasn’t sleepy. I played tug-of-war with him for a few minutes with his braided rope but once Wookie won he took the toy back to his bed.
I looked at my phone and decided, against my own judgment, to read Katie’s numerous texts that were sent the night I caught her with Denny and into the next day. The messages were exactly what I expected.
The first few were apologies and I’m sorries.
Then they were excuses: We’d been drinking and it just kinda happened.
The last ones were angry: You and Den broke up. If you didn’t want anyone else to fuck him you should’ve stayed together.
I deleted all the messages and blocked her number. The craving for wine was a gnawing spasm of need in my gut that felt like a dragon wanting to be fed. I made a pot of ginger tea to busy my hands and mouth and choked it down, half-scalding my lips and tongue. Hours drifted by before I headed for bed and fought the bad quicksand dreams.
On my way into work the next day the radio was sharing breaking news that the body of Iris Bell was found. It was followed by clips of the sheriff’s voice pleading with people who may know something about the new missing girl or any of the other girls to please come forward. I turned the radio off and thought about Agent Pierce. I wondered what would happen to him if girls kept going missing and the guy was never caught. Maybe he’d lose his job or get demoted to some kind of paper-pushing position or sent into the basement to work in the mailroom. Then again, could be they’d just let the case file sit while it gathered a fine layer of dust, and assign Pierce to a newer serial killer. One with less of a propensity for bridges, white ribbons and water that washed away evidence.
When I walked into the station, it was dead. The Canadian dollar had been dropping, making it less cost effective to cross the border only for gas. I cleaned the restroom and wiped down all the shelves but even that didn’t eat up much of my time. A flamboyant fiftyish woman wearing dangly four-leaf-clover earrings walked into the store just after one o’clock. She bought a couple of energy drinks and asked if I knew the best route to get to the Nooksack River Casino. Even though most people had GPSs these days, we still kept a stock of road maps. I pulled one out and traced the route with my finger.
“The Mount Baker Highway has construction so it’ll be slow going through that way, but if you go left on Everson and right on Smith, you’ll end up back on Mount Baker before you get to the casino and you’ll miss all that mess.”
She thanked me and bought the map to take w
ith her.
Looking at the map made me think, and since things were slow, my mind had a lot of wandering it could do. The casino I directed that woman to was located in Deming. The town where Iris Bell was snatched from. I pulled out another map, smoothed it over the counter and grabbed a pen. I placed Xs over the towns that the missing girls were from. Then I drew Os around the spots we’d found Iris and Luna and I drew a question mark on the spot where I’d fallen in the creek because Agent Pierce had a tip about that area. I wished I could have a rocket-launching epiphany after looking at the map. I wanted to be able to call up Pierce and say, “I figured it out! I know where the girls are being kept and where the rest of the bodies are.” But there was no epiphany. Looking at the Xs and Os just gave me a cramp in my gut.
After folding up the map I tucked it into my purse to look at later.
“Planning a big holiday?” Jonas asked.
He’d walked into the store without me even noticing.
“You know me,” I joked. “Never miss a reason to travel. Except, I was hoping to go to Paris or Madrid instead of local.”
“This time of year I think about Mexico,” he admitted. “Hot beaches and sizzling señoritas, ooh la la.”
I laughed politely and then regarded his face.
“Still doing the contacts instead of glasses?” I grabbed my jacket off the chair behind the counter. “Is that because I said you were good-looking without them?” I winked awkwardly.
“Exactly. I thought to myself, what the hell am I doing looking like shit with thick glasses when I can get compliments from Julie?” He pointed a finger at me. “So you’re all better now, right? Margie said you had the flu. Let me know if I’ve gotta wipe down all your cooties from the area.” He waved his hand to indicate the counter and cash register.
“I am positively cootie free.”
A Grave Calling Page 9
