Rainey closed her eyes and listened to the silence. It was almost too quiet. Even when the triplets were asleep, she could hear them in the monitor by the bed. The cribs squeaked with their movements, they giggled in their sleep, they snorted and sniffed through the night, and it was comforting to hear them. The room Rainey occupied in the Wise home had no sounds of sleeping babies to lull her to dreamland. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. Rainey missed home and being snuggled up to a beautiful blonde, listening to the familiar sounds of all being right with the world.
The bed began to warm from her body heat and she relaxed into the pillow. It was still too early to call home. Katie would be putting things away from the day, preparing for the next. Rainey began to hear Creedence Clearwater Revival playing in the back of her mind. “Run Through the Jungle” grew louder as she concentrated on the sound.
“Creedence was my dad’s favorite band,” Bill had explained about the music playing when Rainey first walked up to the house. “He wanted a celebration of his favorite things,” he said, on the way back from the crime scene.
“The Captain had a nice send off,” a voice said.
Rainey opened her eyes to find she was standing in the jungle, water dripping off the huge green leaves surrounding her. The ground rose up in front of her, and a mound of foliage became a camouflaged soldier, his face painted green and black, with only the whites of his eyes hinting at a human under the Ghillie suit. Rainey jumped instinctively, but then stopped to peer into the green irises looking back at hers.
“Dad, you look scary as hell,” she said.
“Rainey? What are you doing here?”
Under all the camo, Billy Bell was the young man he had been in the picture hanging on the wall of the study downstairs.
“I don’t know. I think I’m dreaming.”
“Roger that.” He squatted down, scanning the horizon, realized she was standing, and pulled her down with him. “Keep your head down. Those little shits are out there, you just can’t see them. They blend in with the trees. You think you’re looking at a tree and then it shoots you.”
Rainey noticed Billy was holding an M14 Vietnam-era sniper rifle. “Why are you dressed like that? You weren’t a sniper.”
Billy looked at himself and seemed surprised at his attire. “I don’t know. It’s your dream.”
Instantly they were transported inside the profiler game, where they stood watching Stormy Weather’s virtual assault.
Billy leaned into Rainey’s shoulder, still in his Ghillie suit and war paint. “You know, I would have cut his balls off and fed them to him.”
“Yes, Dad, I know.” The dissociation from the scene struck Rainey as odd. She watched the assault, as if it had nothing to do with her. “You have grandkids now, three of them.”
“You, with three kids? I’m sorry I didn’t stick around for that. Remember, you reap what you sow.”
Flash, they were back in the jungle, standing at the edge of a rice patty, just inside the tree line. This time, the Creedence song filled up the sky overhead, punctuated by helicopter blades.
“That’s my ride,” Billy shouted over the noise. “It was good to see you, Rainey.”
Billy started running toward the landing chopper.
Rainey called after him, “Be safe.”
He turned to grin and wave, shouting, “Always, baby girl. Always.”
Rainey watched the chopper land. A hand waved at her from the cockpit. She squinted into the windshield to see a young, svelte Wellman Wise at the helm. Without warning the music changed to the children’s song “Three Blind Mice.” It played as the chopper lifted and flew away, with her Ghillie-suited father standing on a skid, waving a different rifle in the air, an M1 Garand, the type used to kill Wellman Wise.
Billy shouted down at her, but she could not hear him for the noise.
“I can’t hear you. Wait. What are you saying? Dad, come back.”
The “Three Blind Mice” song started over at the beginning before Rainey realized it was the ringtone for Katie and she had fallen asleep. Shaking off the short trip into dreamland, she reached for her phone.
“Hey, baby, I just had the weirdest dream,” she said into the phone upon answering it.
“You fell asleep. I was waiting for you to call and you were sleeping,” Katie said, but she wasn’t mad. “Good for you. I’m glad one of us is getting some rest.”
“I’m sorry. I was waiting for you to get the kids down and I guess I dozed off.”
Katie sounded worried when she asked, “It wasn’t one of those dreams, was it?”
“Those dreams” were night terrors and Rainey sure as hell was glad it wasn’t one of those. “No, I dreamed I was talking to my dad.”
“It’s probably because of burying his friend. I’m sure you talked about him today.”
Rainey rubbed the sleep from her face. “That’s it, I suppose. The dream kind of had bits and pieces of today thrown into the jungles of Vietnam. Weird, like I said.”
Katie let out a tired sigh. Rainey recognized the sound that came each night when the mother of three finally flopped into the winged back chair in the master bedroom.
Katie said, “It’s been a long day and it sounds like you’re trying to process a lot of information.”
“I guess. Are you headed to bed?”
“No, I’m going to go downstairs and hang out with the adults for a bit. I don’t get to do that very often.”
“I’m going to have to talk to Joey when I get home, but I don’t think anyone has been in the house or hacked the security system. I’m pretty sure Joey unwittingly participated.”
“You’re being so cryptic. What the hell happened down there?”
Rainey explained about the game and the detail it contained. Katie was shocked that the files at the shelter had been compromised and pledged to change the locks. Rainey knew Katie would do anything to keep those files out of their house. They contained things no mother would want in a home.
“I really don’t think Joey would break a trust. I’m sure once he understands, there will be no more trouble, and I’ll have Molly shut the game’s production down. It shouldn’t be hard to do.”
“Rainey, do you think Theodore is dangerous?”
“Yes, I do. He crosses boundaries with no thought to consequences. That is scary enough.”
“Well, the security company knows what he looks like. Leslie had a picture on her phone and I emailed it to them. The guard at the gatehouse said, ‘Another one?’ Really, Rainey the neighborhood security guards are going to want a pay raise. Like I said, you attract trouble like a magnet. Have you given any more thought to changing our names and moving to the south of France?”
Katie spoke of the fantasy life they craved of anonymity and escape from the hoard of nutcases that fixated on members of the BAU. Rainey had not written a book. She had not sought appearances beyond speaking on public safety issues to women’s groups and at universities. She tried to remain a blip on the radar, but they found her.
“I think about it all the time,” Rainey answered, and she was serious.
“I see you as a grape farmer, in overalls, no shirt, barefooted—oh my God, we need a night alone. I can’t wait for Valentine’s. I’m starved for you.”
“Just let me get home tomorrow and very soon, I’ll take care of that appetite.”
“Okay, call me before you leave in the morning. I love you. Sweet dreams. Stay out of the jungle.”
“I love you too. And sweet dreams to you as well. Hope the kids stay down.”
“Joey and Molly wore them out for me. I owe them one.”
“Good, then get some sleep. We’re not sleeping through this vacation from the kids, not again.”
Katie chuckled. “Not on your life.”
The call concluded, Rainey set the alarm on her phone and checked the temperature on the weather app. Thirty-three degrees and light snow, with a wind chill factor making it feel like twenty-one. The hard fr
eeze may miss them yet. Rainey hoped so. She was ready to be home so she could play in the snow with the kids.
Before she fell asleep, she thought back on the short dream earlier. What was her brain chewing on to spit out that particular collection of things? Her dad, Wellman Wise, the video game, she understood those appearances. They had been the center of conversation for most of her day. The sniper rifle, Ghillie suit, and then the switch of the rifle to the M1—her mind was combining the topics of the day into one short snippet. If there were a message, it would have to wait or be explained more clearly in another dream, because the heaviness of her eyelids won the battle, and Rainey Bell fell asleep in frozen little Hominy Junction.
Chapter Six
Thursday, February 13, 2014
6:15 a.m.
Light Rain, 34oF, Windchill 24.6oF
While Rainey slept past six a. m. with no little fingers prying her eyes open or bouncing on her back, the weatherman gave the good news on the television downstairs.
“We braced for a worst-case scenario yesterday and into early this morning, predicting up to a half-inch of ice. But folks, we dodged a bullet with temperatures warming up to about thirty-five degrees through Wednesday night. Expect the roads to remain slick in spots with ice still present in patches, until we get a bit warmer after sunrise. Keep in mind as the temperatures climb into the thirties today, the wind chill factor will still make it feel below freezing. Not a good day to stay outside for long periods, so monitor the time your kids spend outside on this snow day. We’ll be back with the complete forecast in two minutes.”
The alarm sounded at six-twenty a.m. Rainey rolled over and felt for her phone. Once in her grasp, she slid her finger on the screen to silence the noise. She slipped from under the covers, and stepped lightly through the cool room to the window. It was still dark. The street light glow revealed the predicted ice had not fallen. The trees glistened with the manageable weight of a thin glaze that stiffened them against the occasional gust of arctic wind. Hominy Junction was frozen, but not solidly. Rainey knew the ground was too warm down south for the snow to stay. A few sunny hours and the town would return to its previous state, dirt and flaws exposed. For now, Mother Nature hid the imperfections under a thick blanket of ice covered white snow.
Rainey smelled bacon cooking, an aroma detectable by stomachs around the world. It was the internationally understood call to breakfast. She redressed, made up the bed, grabbed her tee shirt, and went in search of a bathroom. The door was locked on the first one, with a retching Morgan inside. Rainey remembered those days of morning sickness with Katie and moved on. She found the downstairs powder room open. With a freshly washed face and hand smoothed curls, which was somewhat of a lost cause, Rainey emerged a few minutes later hell bent on leaving as soon as possible.
“Good morning, Rainey,” Harriet welcomed her with a steaming cup of coffee and a breakfast plate of bacon, eggs, and a homemade biscuit, with a side of ham. “You don’t have to eat the ham,” she said. “I’m just trying to get rid of it. Leda must have thought we were feeding an army. I’ll see if I can get someone to take most of the leftovers to Goldsboro, to the homeless shelter where they feed our lost boys. That’s what Wellman would have done.”
Rainey sat down at the table. “Thank you very much. It looks delicious. Have you heard anything about the roads?”
“The report on Wellman’s scanner was the county roads are probably going to be cleared by eight or nine this morning. They worked all night, once the temperature got up above freezing. You’ll be able to get to the highway then. You’ll have to watch for patches of ice they say, but,” she patted Rainey’s hand, “you’ll be able to get home this morning. I can see how anxious you are to be with them.”
“Yes, ma’am. The triplets saw a little snow last year, but this is the first time I think we’ll really get to play with them in it. I don’t want to miss that. It probably won’t be here long.”
“Two is such a challenging age. They are learning as much about you as you them. I remember Bill being very precocious, well, I don’t actually remember, but I kept a very detailed account of his childhood. Wellman was gone so much, I didn’t want him to miss a thing.”
“Katie is making a video diary. She also keeps written notes. I look forward to reading it again when we’re rocking on the porch surrounded by grandkids.”
“Wellman would have loved to be here for Bill and Morgan’s child. I guess we’ll just have to tell the baby all about Grandpa Wellman, won’t we. I’m sure you’ll share your father with your children.”
Rainey remembered telling Timothy about the “coo doo.” “Yes, ma’am. I started already. They’ll know who he was. I’ll make sure of that.”
“Well, let me let you eat your breakfast. I’m going to check on Bill and Morgan.”
“Is Bill sick too?” Rainey asked.
“Morgan has morning sickness and Bill Wise has the gag reflex of a cat. He’s in there with her. It’s a vicious cycle. Oh, I’m sorry, you’re about to eat.”
Rainey smiled and picked up her fork. “I have a cat and two years of babies under my belt, I could eat on top of the diaper hamper.”
Rainey ate alone in the kitchen. She occasionally heard wisps of voices, but no one came to join her. She finished, rinsed her plate at the sink, and poured a second cup of coffee. The tee shirt she’d worn to bed sat on the counter. She carried it and the coffee to the foyer. The tee shirt went into the pocket of her coat, still hanging on the coat tree. The sky was lighter now, an overcast haze, but the sun was definitely shining somewhere.
“What do you think? You going to give it a try?”
Rainey turned to see Bill coming down the hall toward her. He looked a little pale.
“I think I’ll wait a bit longer, give it time to thaw a little. How are you feeling?”
He smiled. “I don’t know how long this morning sickness lasts, but I hope not long.”
“How is Morgan?”
“Oh, she’s fine. She’s in there eating breakfast like it’s no big deal. I’ll be lucky if I’m able to get something down by lunch.”
Rainey chuckled. “You’ll survive. I think Katie’s lasted about three months.”
“In three months, I’ll be a stick. I’ve already lost five pounds.” Bill said, rubbing his stomach. He looked over at the weather station on the wall. “Thirty-four degrees. Boy, that’s cold.” He reached for his coat and hat. “Well, standing here isn’t getting that snow off the porch and driveway.” He looked over his shoulder. “And I’m getting out of here before Morgan’s breakfast makes a retreat.”
Rainey raised her coffee cup in a thankful toast. “I appreciate the warning.”
Bill opened the front door just as Harriet entered the hallway. She called out, “Bill, don’t you at least want some coffee before you go out there?”
Bill turned green, hustled out the door, and threw a “No ma’am” over his shoulder.
“Poor thing. He used to throw up if the cat had a hairball,” Harriet said with a chuckle.
“It’s funny what our bodies are programmed to do. Some faint at the sight of blood, others can’t curl their tongues. Our genetic makeup sometimes removes choice from our plate.”
Harriet came to stand beside Rainey. “So do you think an evil person is born that way? Susie and I have had this discussion for many years. She’s convinced they did nothing wrong as parents.” Harriet shrugged. “She is also quite positive that they could not have stopped it from happening.”
Rainey answered without hesitation. “She may be right about not doing anything wrong as parents. It’s often true the parents were concerned, were active, were attempting to solve the child’s issues. It is also true that just as often parents were ill equipped to, or simply did not, recognize the blatant signs of impending violence. Who thinks their child capable of murder? Hindsight is the answer to all the questions no one asked before a tragedy happened.”
“Amen to that,” Harriet com
mented.
Rainey continued, “Your question of being born evil is a complicated one. Yes, some people have genetic anomalies that have been found to predicate certain behaviors. But, for example, people born without empathy are not always evil. Deliberate choices are made by all but the most seriously mentally ill. One psychopath becomes a wealthy, non-violent, CEO. Another becomes a mass murderer. DNA contributed, but the choice to commit a crime of violence against another human being, in most cases, was ultimately that of the perpetrator. A lot of behaviorists don’t agree with that, but it has been true in my experience. We all have demons, Harriet. Those that choose to let them out have to be held responsible for their actions. I might fantasize about murdering someone. That doesn’t make me evil. Choosing to pull the trigger does.”
“Whoever shot Wellman was pure evil,” Harriet said, eyes focused on her son shoveling the walk out front. “I hope they find him and put him away forever. And I agree with Susie, if it’s her son, lock him up and throw away the key. I believe, in this instance, the bad seed was planted and took root, no matter who he claims to be today.”
Rainey patted the shorter woman on the shoulder. “You can count on me locating and thoroughly investigating one Theodore Suzanne. If he did this, I’m going to find out.”
Harriet reached to touch Rainey’s hand on her shoulder. “I know you’ll do your best. I can’t thank you enough for all you did.”
Skylar Sweet’s truck coasted to a slow stop in front of the house. Rainey and Harriet watched as Gordon bailed out of the passenger side and grabbed a shovel from the back of the truck. He went straight to work shoveling alongside Bill. Skylar exited the truck, but did not grab a tool to begin working. He exchanged greetings with Bill, which Rainey and Harriet could not hear beyond muffled sounds, and then preceded to the front door. He smiled through the glass at them with his moonbeam teeth and let himself in.
Colde & Rainey (A Rainey Bell Thriller) Page 13
