Billie shivered, sloshing her beer over the rim of the glass. She wiped it up and continued. “I don't know much, but it sounds like she found her sister's dead body. She called the police, told them she'd found her sister, that her mother had killed her, and that she was going to be next. She ended up in foster home for a few weeks while it was being investigated, and then was sent to live with her mother again.”
“Could she have been the one who killed her sister?” Hudson wiped a hand over his face, trying to imagine what it must have been like for little Gracie.
“Doesn't sound like they pursued that angle,” Billie shook her head and leaned into Matt's arm. “But it's a cold case. Never solved.”
“Jeezus Pleezus,” Calvin sighed and took a deep drink from his glass. As a redhead, the kid only wore pale or sunburned. Hudson was sure that even if Calvin had been sunburned, the color would have drained out of his face. “How'd she get out of the loony bin? They medicate her?”
“Yeah, but only a light dose towards the end. My contact said that's why she was in there for so long, she refused medication.”
David sat his beer down and looked at Billie, “What about the way she changed at the end of the interview, the way she just went mentally and emotionally AWOL?”
She shook her head, “That doesn't track with what I read. Keep in mind—I'm no expert. I just skimmed a bunch of stuff online after I got off the phone. From what I read, people with schizophrenia are emotionally unplugged, narcissistic. She sounds like she showed plenty of emotion right up until that point. If it was emotion for herself, it might fit, but it's a stretch.”
No one said anything for several minutes. Hudson tried to wrap his mind around what Billie had said. “Any chance she faked it when she was younger? She got the diagnosis to keep from going to prison?”
No one had an answer.
Calvin looked from face to face, finally settling on Hudson. “Is there a chance there's something else wrong with her? Something worse?”
18
She watched the home wrecking little tramp peel herself out of Cornelius' embrace and head down the dark path that would lead her to the employee cabins. She let Kari get ahead of her, just out of sight. Corny remained sitting on the picnic table, watching her lithe figure disappear into the shadows before he pulled himself up. After stretching, like a connoisseur who has sated his hunger, Corny pulled his jacket tight and lumbered without purpose up the hill toward his truck.
When she was sure he wouldn't see her, she slipped out of the trees and followed Kari down the winding, broken lane. The employee cabins were dilapidated monstrosities deemed unfit to sell to tourists. Leaking roofs, drafty windows and no insulation to fight the cold night air or hot summer days, they were still preferable to the crowded dorms that stood closer to the Lodge. C-Loop, the worst of the cabins, had been razed and burned to make way for the new lodges. Destroyed, as the rotting, festering, corrupt seeds in any family should be.
She wasn't stupid, she had known about Corny's infidelity for a while now. She just hadn't wanted to admit it. But for this, there was no excuse. There was a big difference between chasing international tail and soiling their family.
It wasn't all Corny's fault. Sniffing around Kari's door, flirting and toying with her, was one thing. Kari should have been strong enough, loved her family enough, to see past the bastard's treacherous lies and turn him away.
She'd been wrong. She shook her head and held back, giving Kari a little more headway. Lester had needed to be punished, he'd needed to be stopped, before he tore their family apart and took away their home. She wasn't going to allow anyone to break up their family, even if that someone was a rotten apple that needed to be plucked from the tree.
The ranger had been an unexpected surprise. She knew they would be digging around Lake, maybe even Canyon, but she thought it would pass. At the very least, she had hoped Lester's murder would have been pinned on one of the deadbeat drifters who came through every year looking for work. What she hadn't expected was seeing the ranger in K-Bar, hadn't expected the look in his eyes when he realized who they were. Most of all, she hadn't expected Kari to cozy up to him.
Somehow, the nosey bastard had figured it out, even before Kari went to flaunt her wares in his face. It hadn't taken long to find his cell number in the NPS directory. She had waited until she was sure Kari was back from town before calling him, tempting him with information to get him to meet her at the Brink of the Lower Falls.
He'd been wary of her at first, cautious. It had taken her almost an hour, out in the bitter cold, to convince him that she feared for her life, that she could be trusted. One slip in his tightly woven guard, one moment of distraction as he looked out over the moonlit canyon, was all it took.
His plummet down to the waters of the Yellowstone River left her feeling cheated. His death didn't satisfy her anger, her rage. It lacked the release that had accompanied Lester's death. She had wanted him to come to her new place, her special place, but had known as soon as he answered the phone that she'd never get the old man out there alone.
Startled by sudden movement, the crunch of snow, the rustle of winter-killed underbrush—the killer froze. Under the cover of night shadows offered by the thick conifers, she held her ground, waiting. A doe and her fawn slipped from between the trees, sniffing the air for danger before they risked exposing themselves.
Though the night air was cold enough to see her breath and sting her cheeks, she thrilled as she watched the deer pass and understood the rush that hunters get as they sit, unseen by their prey, waiting for the perfect opportunity to make the kill. She held onto that feeling, nurturing it as she followed Kari's trail through the woods.
She'd killed Lester to protect them all, to save them from being ripped apart and scattered to the four winds. That should have been the end of it. The ranger's blood was on Kari's hands. She should never have gone to talk to him at the bar, never. Far worse was her betrayal with Corny. She was a cancer on the skin of their family, which needed to be excised.
Her gloved hand gripped the baseball bat hard enough to bruise as she slipped around the end of the cabins. Resembling spokes on a broken wheel, each complex held four cabins that radiated away from each other, joined by a communal porch. With no insulation to dampen the weather, the sound of a shower filled the hushed night.
Kari's battered Honda was the only car in the small lot around front, giving them complete privacy to discuss the error of her ways. The killer placed an ear next to the peeling wood of the door, listening for movement.
When she was sure Kari was safely ensconced in the small bathroom, she slipped the master key from her pocket and opened the door. Propping the baseball bat against the wall, the killer slid a doorstop out of her pocket and placed it at the foot of the door. The privacy chain rattled against the wood as she slid it into the faceplate. Slipping out of her jacket, she tossed it on the solitary chair across the room.
The bathroom took up one front corner of the room, blocking the view of the door from most of the cabin. With the bat back in hand, she moved to each wall and dropped the blinds on the three small windows before taking a seat on the edge of the bed. The bat rested beside her, where it wouldn't be seen when Kari walked into the room.
Poor Gracie, she thought as she settled in to wait. The girl shouldn't have seen any of this. What hurdles her little brain must be jumping, tying itself into knots. She had not meant for Gracie to stumble upon Lester's body, either, but that was not all bad.
The killer loved her. Loved her as she had loved Kari. “All good things come to an end,” she quoted. Though she felt as small sliver of sorrow for what she was putting Gracie through, if her family was over, if it was time to move on and build a new one, what better person to shield her from the fallout than a damaged little girl? The court system wouldn't be anything new to her, nor would the sanitarium.
The killer hoped it wouldn't come to that. She would protect Gracie if she could. But, too man
y of her doings had come to light. Too many rangers were sniffing around. Someone would have to bear the blame, or they would all be suspect.
The shower cut off and the room fell silent. The only sink in the cabin was in the main room, a few short steps from where she waited. When the door opened, the killer didn't move. Didn't flinch. She waited, and watched Kari step around the corner to stand in front of the sink and mirror, scrubbing her long strawberry-blond hair with a towel.
After blotting her face with the edges, Kari let the towel drop around her shoulders, looked up into the mirror and screamed. Spinning, all but jumping into the sink, she realized who it was and began to calm down.
“What? How? What are you doing here?” Within seconds, her face flushed and clouded over as anger began to surface. “How did you get in here?”
“Haven't I taken care of you? Haven't I looked out for you, protected you? And this is how you repay me?”
Kari shook her head, pretending confusion in the face of her treachery. “What are you talking about?”
The killer wasn't fooled, but her own anger began to surface at Kari's arrogance. “Don't play stupid with me! It wasn't enough to have the young men chase you during the season; you had to go after Corny?” She stood, keeping the bat close to her leg.
“It's not what you think!” Kari shouted. “We're not sleeping together, he's not cheating!”
She let the bat swing into view, delighted as the blood drained from Kari's face, leaving her pale as she backed away. “That wasn't enough for you. No, not you. You had to throw yourself at the one man who could destroy our family!”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Kari's eyes grew wide as the realization sank in, “You? You killed Michael?”
“No!” the killer screamed and Kari flinched. “You killed him! You killed him by getting him involved. It was none of his business! What happens in Canyon isn't anyone's business but ours!”
The killer laughed as she watched panic break over Kari like a tidal wave, pushing her past the brink. When Kari turned and bolted for the door, the killer took her time. Coming up behind her and cornering her in the little alcove as Kari yanked the door open. It caught on the privacy chain, yanking the doorknob out of her hand.
She slapped at the chain, trying to get it free as the killer came to a stop behind her, raising the bat. Screaming in frustration and fear, Kari got the chain loose and yanked on the door again. It slid up the edge of the doorstop and jammed. She beat on the door, jerking and wedging it tighter against the soft plastic.
The killer waited—waited until Kari turned to face her. She wanted to see the desperation in Kari's eyes, wanted her to see the punishment that was coming. Kari's hands came up, just as Lester's had done, half pleading—half feeble attempt at protecting herself, as the bat followed the downward arc with all the force the killer could muster.
The sound of the snapping bone as the bat connected with Kari's forearm and her wild screams electrified the killer, excited her in a way she had never thought possible. Damaged, broken, and useless, Kari dropped her arm, cradled against her chest as the killer raised the bat again, and again, and again.
Beating Kari down, silencing her screams and her lies. Teaching her once and for all, what it means to betray her family—to turn on those who have taken care of her, loved her and protected her.
When Kari's body lay shaking in a pool of blood on the floor, the killer dropped the end of the bat and used it as a crutch to hold herself up. When she could breathe without panting, she used the toe of her sneaker to roll the whore over.
Beating Kari, the rush of adrenaline and power she experienced, felt wonderful. Ranger Garrett had cheated her out of the satisfaction she'd felt after killing Lester. That wouldn't happen again. Not with Kari. She would find out what else the little bitch had done and then send her out in grand old fashion.
Her special place would still sit unused, but that would change soon. After she dealt with the disease that was rotting within her family, she would find someone. Someone no one would miss. She would take them there and take her time, relishing every scream.
19
“So what do we do now?” Calvin asked as they finished off their beers and helped Matt clear the table.
Hudson looked at each of them, proud of his small crew and deeply in their debt for their loyalty. “We keep digging. Billie, keep working on your contact. Try to get a peek at some of those old files. We may not be able to use them to convict her, but they might help us better understand her. They might help us get under her skin enough to get her to talk.”
He handed the plate, it's cargo of deep fried peppers long since gone, to David. “Keep tabs on her, David. We don't need any more surprises, or bodies. I'm stuck on desk duty during the day, but after work, I can sit on her. The next time, and I'm sure there will be a next time, we need to catch her in the act.”
“I'm headed back to Canyon now,” David said. “Want me to sit on her?”
“No, I'm right behind you. I'll grab some overnight gear and coffee. The upper loop is still pretty empty right now. I'll park there, where I can keep an eye on Gracie's RV without being too obvious.”
Calvin stepped up. “What about me, boss?”
He was eager to help, but Hudson was loathe to put anyone else at risk of Erikson's ire. “I need you to be our watch dog, Calvin. Keep your ear to the ground, give us a heads up if anything starts shaking or if they start looking too closely at any of us.”
Calvin looked at the floor. Seeing a grown man pout was never pretty. Hudson thumped him on the shoulder. “The only thing standing between us and getting kicked out of the park is you. Have Billie give you our personal cell numbers. Nobody call me through departmental channels. As far as anyone else is concerned, I'm a pariah and you're keeping your distance.”
Everyone nodded, solemn. It was one thing to meet in a bar and pass information around over beer. It was another to disobey orders blatantly, right under the noses of the brass. Damn, he missed Mike.
David pulled out of the parking lot first. Five-minute intervals sat between each departure. They didn't want to bring attention to themselves by leaving at the same time. Especially in a town that rolled its sidewalks up after dark in the off-season.
Stopping by his house, Hudson grabbed a handful of snacks and a thermos of coffee before hitting the road. If the woman was as unstable as it seemed, anyone living in the employee RV Park was a sitting duck. They no doubt all trusted her, liked her. They would open their doors without a second thought. If she decided to rock'n'roll, he wanted to be there to stop her.
Top speed in the park was set at forty-five miles per hour. Dunraven Pass would have been preferable. It would have shaved almost a half an hour off the drive, but the Pass was still closed. The road past Tower was still packed, where avalanche zones had broken loose.
As soon as he was past Mammoth, he let the speed climb. Too fast for the Golden Gate, he waited until he hit Swan Flats before opening up on the straightaway, his headlights on high beam in the hope that he would see any roaming animals before it was too late. Buffalo were the worst, absorbing light instead of reflecting it; they were hit by more speeders in the park than any other animal. Hitting 800 pounds of solid muscle never ended well for the driver, or the animal.
Cautious around blind corners, he kept the speed up until he dropped down the hillside into the valley that held Canyon Village. From the road, he couldn't see the RV campground. It was too far back in the trees. Instead of turning down the service road, he hit the four-way stop, took a left and swung around a road-closed sign leading to the other side of Dunraven.
Staying in the left lane to avoid the snowdrifts that still crowded the road; he turned onto the old dirt lane that would carry him up to the top loop of the campground. Turning the first bend, the road branched off to the left where it cut through a construction dump, a ratty basketball court and gravel ball field to the lower loop where Gracie lived.
Snow st
ill blanketed the upper loop. Bouncing over downed saplings and slugging through snow, he said a small prayer that he wouldn't get stuck or hit a sewer-head, shut his headlights off, kicked in four-wheel drive and plowed through. Bouncing hard enough for his head to hit the ceiling, his tires sinking and digging in to the snow, he fought the steering wheel until he finally manhandled the truck to the other side of the clearing.
With the nose of the truck pointing toward the lower loop, he realized he was closer to Gracie's motorhome than he wanted to be. The only thing separating him was an empty mobile home shelter. Four massive, twelve-inch diameter poles held up the roof of the shelter, leaving the area open enough that he could stare right into the window of her living room.
20
Gracie huddled in her bed, surrounded by fur as Fred and Ginger pressed close. Their whines had subsided with her tears. For the first time in days, she felt as if she was regaining some control over the chaos in her head.
After seeing Kristi standing in the shadows, so many things began to make sense. In spite of the voices still clamoring away in her head, connections were being made. Small ones at first, but they were growing in number, gathering power.
Lester had treated everyone at Canyon like garbage, but he'd especially had it in for Kristi. Not a single manager's meeting went by when he hadn't pointed out what he saw as shortcomings in the controller's office. Shortcomings, he had insisted, that cast a pall over the entire location.
Everyone knew he was just pissed because Canyon had so much more anonymity than other locations. And why not? It ran like a well-oiled machine. Turnover among the staff was virtually nonexistent. Everyone knew their jobs, their responsibilities, and they got the job done year after year. Kristi's office just made the easiest target. Or so Gracie, like everyone else, had thought.
Canyon Echoes Page 10
