Never Look Back

by Burton, Mary

  The light turned green and she drove past the interstate exit. “Will do, doll.”

  A smirk tugged at Bonnie’s lips. She turned the car around and headed back to the Shepards’. On the way, she stopped at a drugstore and bought a few things for Elena, as well as a blue gift bag. Putting the toys in the bag, she drove to the Shepards’. She parked in front of the neat little suburban house. Time to test the waters and see what these folks were made of.

  Out of the car, she picked up the gift bag and, squaring her shoulders, walked up the sidewalk to the front porch.

  She rang the bell and widened her smile. When the door opened, the woman stared back at her with open suspicion.

  “I’m here to see Elena,” Bonnie said.

  “Who are you?”

  “I’m Bonnie,” she said. “I’m like a grandmother to her.” Inside she heard a television playing a cartoon. “Elena loves the Magic Tree House. She likes the idea of traveling through time.”

  The woman blocked Bonnie’s view with her body. “How did you find my address?”

  “I’d like to see her,” Bonnie said. “I want to tell her how sorry I am.”

  “It’ll take more than an apology to make amends for leaving her in a wrecked car, Bonnie.” The woman tightened her hand on the door as if ready to close it.

  Bonnie could feel her temper rising. “Call Melina and tell her I’m here. She’ll want to talk to me.”

  The woman reached for her phone in her back jeans pocket and texted a message.

  “Molly?” Elena’s voice drew Bonnie’s attention back to the hallway behind Mrs. Shepard, and she saw Elena for the first time in a few days.

  Bonnie realized how much she really had missed her. She liked the kid. She was quiet, and she listened when Bonnie needed her to distract a mark.

  “BB?” Elena asked.

  Bonnie heard the excitement mingled with trepidation in the girl’s voice. She understood both emotions. People naturally craved the familiar, even when it was not so perfect, and the fear was justified. “Hey, kiddo? How are you doing?”

  Mrs. Shepard shifted her stance, blocking Bonnie’s view of the girl. “She’s doing fine.”

  Bonnie’s smile faltered. “I’d like to see her.”

  “Over my dead body,” Mrs. Shepard said. “Now get off my property.”

  This wasn’t over between them. It couldn’t be. She owed it to Elena and Sonny.

  A car pulled up in front of the house and she heard a car door slam. She turned. Melina strode toward the house, her face as pale and tight with anger as it had been when she was a little girl.

  This was going to be fun.

  The summer sun was dimming as Sonny walked to the back of the house, where he knew a sliding door fed into a small patio. He had been by the house several times and was familiar enough now with the patterns of the neighborhood to know that after midnight he would not be bothered.

  With Bonnie’s promises still clattering in his head, he knew he needed to relax. Calm his rattled thoughts and nerves. Bonnie was promising him a family. A sister and a mother he could love.

  He glanced down at his trembling hand before he curled it tightly into a fist. He wanted that family so badly. And he wanted to believe Bonnie. But she had burned him so many times. Her promises were always too good to be true.

  He hurried up to the back door and was pleased to see she had not fixed the light he had broken a few days ago. He removed a small screwdriver from his pocket, popped the lock, slid open the door, and quickly stepped inside. He did not need a light to make his way through her house. This was not the first time he had inspected the interior. He knew the small kitchen was to the right, living room to the left, and down the hallway was the bathroom equipped with a large claw-foot tub.

  He walked down the hallway and entered the bathroom. He switched on the water, running his hand under the hot tap. Steam rose up, fogging his glasses and the mirror. He checked his watch, noting it was almost 8:00 p.m. and she would be home soon.

  He had meant to meet up with her last night, but he had been dealing with the bail bondsman. By the time he’d made all the necessary arrangements for Bonnie, his window of opportunity had closed. Maybe it was better that they had not hooked up last night.

  He removed the sharp garden shears from his pocket and set them carefully on the counter beside the sink. As he scrolled through his playlist on his phone, he tried to imagine the perfect song for them. All his girls had a song, and Sandra would be no exception.

  A car pulled into the driveway. He shut off the water and pocketed the phone. As a precaution, he made sure the small window in the bathroom could be opened. Had not Bonnie always taught him to have an exit strategy?

  Bonnie. Fuck. Was there never a time when she was not in his head?

  As the night air, thick with humidity, blew in the cracked window, anticipation surged in him. He flexed his fingers, anxious to hold her neck in his hands and watch the panic flare in her gaze and slowly trickle away.

  Sandra’s laughter, ripe with desire, echoed from the hallway, and he thought for a moment she might be on the phone. And then he heard a man’s deep, low voice.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  Who the hell was the guy?

  He could stick around. Maybe he could get the drop on the guy and Sandra, but an extra unplanned person created a risk he did not want to assume, especially with Bonnie running around capable of shooting her mouth off.

  Moving swiftly, he climbed up on the toilet seat and hauled his leg over the side of the windowsill. He swung the second leg over and dropped five feet to the ground below. But his foot landed wrong and his ankle rolled. He felt a sharp pain and prayed he had not screwed himself. A couple of tentative steps proved it was a serious strain at best. Figuring out how bad would have to come later.

  The lights in the house clicked on, and he hobbled toward the small grouping of houses that backed up to Sandra’s. Fifty paces ahead, he knew there was another street that fed into the public parking lot of the grocery store where he had left his car.

  “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

  This was all Bonnie’s fault. He had been on his game until she came to town. Like all the shit that had happened to him, Bonnie was at the root of it. Until she was dead, he would have no peace.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Thursday, August 27, 7:00 p.m.

  Melina’s nerves were wound tight as Ramsey drove toward her parents’ home. They were two houses away when she spotted Bonnie standing on the porch.

  Melina unlocked her seat belt and reached for the door handle before the car had stopped. “I still can’t believe she had the guts to come here.”

  “Hold on. Let me stop the car,” Ramsey barked as he angled the car near the curb.

  “How does she know where my mother lives? Where I grew up.” Tension tangled with anger and rippled through Melina’s growl.

  “Remember, this is about Elena, not you,” Ramsey cautioned.

  “I get that.” Her fingers pulled up on the door handle as the tires came to a stop. “Making Bonnie suffer is just going to be a bonus.”

  Out of the car, Melina marched across the lawn with a hand on her weapon. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  Bonnie smiled. “I just came by to see Elena. The girl is like a granddaughter to me. Now that my head is better and I’m processing better, I wanted her to know I love her. But your mother wouldn’t let me get close to her.”

  “Good for her.”

  “I have every right to see the girl. I’m all the family that poor little baby has,” Bonnie said.

  “You have no right,” Melina said. “You do not have custody of Elena, and if you did, I would be standing in front of a judge right now getting your rights revoked.”

  Ramsey came up behind Melina. “Time to move along, Ms. Guthrie. You’re out on bail, and I can have that rescinded with a phone call.”

  Bonnie hesitated. She was a woman accustomed to pushing her luck and d
ancing on the line separating freedom and jail. “I’m not breaking any laws.”

  “Try trespassing,” Melina said.

  Bonnie looked around. “I don’t see any signs, but I’m a reasonable person. I don’t see why you have to be so nasty.”

  “You haven’t seen how nasty I can be,” Melina said.

  Bonnie’s grin faded and her features hardened. Before she could respond, the front door opened. Her mother’s silhouette appeared behind the screen. There was no sign of Elena.

  The gift bag dangled from Bonnie’s fingers as she sauntered across the lawn toward her car. “I came to do a good deed and check on the child. I’m sorry to have troubled you.”

  “Don’t come back,” Melina said.

  “I love Elena. I loved you, Mellie.”

  The nickname sent a quake through her body as distant memories of the endearment surfaced. Bonnie had hit another nerve.

  “Bonnie loves Mellie Bellie,” Bonnie said in a singsong voice. “I sang that as I rocked you in my arms,” she said, eyeing Melina closely. “You remember me calling you Mellie, don’t you?”

  Melina’s shoulders grew even more rigid. “Is it supposed to make me cry or embrace a tender moment we once shared?”

  “You do remember. I can tell by your face. You could always hide your feelings from others, but not from me.”

  Melina shifted to offense. “What is the name Sonny is using now?”

  “I don’t know what name he’s using now, baby. It’s been so long since I’ve seen him.”

  “Elena says you met with Sonny before your accident.”

  “She’s a little kid. What does she know?”

  “We’ve searched Dean Guthrie and haven’t gotten a hit. He’s changed his name.”

  Bonnie reached for the car’s door handle. “I don’t know where Sonny is, Mellie.”

  “Who arranged for your bail?” Melina pressed. “Did Sonny arrange it?”

  Bonnie opened her car door. “I can get my own bail.”

  “Who called the cops from the diner after you dumped me on the side of the road?”

  For a split second, Bonnie looked confused. The shift was just enough to tell Melina that she had scored a point in this round.

  “I don’t know anything about a diner,” Bonnie said.

  The lies rolled off her tongue so easily. “Why didn’t you go back for me?”

  Bonnie didn’t speak.

  Melina had a near-perfect bullshit meter and right now it was pinging loudly. “Dean called the cops, didn’t he? It had to have been traumatic as hell for a young kid to see his sibling dumped on the side of the road. If you did it to me, it was a matter of time before you ditched him. He must have felt he had to do anything and everything to keep you happy so you wouldn’t dump him.”

  “I never left him,” Bonnie said.

  “Sure you did. You got arrested when he was sixteen.”

  “That wasn’t my fault. I told him that over and over.”

  “That arrest report said you were skimming credit cards. It’s risky given your record. You must have known you’d get caught eventually and then end up doing serious prison time. He must have known that and begged you to stop.”

  “You should write fiction.” Bonnie’s grin dimmed.

  “I wish to God it were fiction,” Melina said.

  A police cruiser pulled up just then. The officer got out and walked up toward Ramsey, who spoke to him in a low tone she could not hear. “He must have been really good at whatever crime he did for you to stay in your good graces. You taught him well.”

  “You make me sound like a monster.” Bonnie looked directly into Melina’s eyes. “If it weren’t for me, you’d have rotted in foster care.”

  Melina said nothing. She was a good cop, and a good cop knew when to shut up and let the suspect talk.

  “Howard and I were packed and ready to go to Hawaii when we got the call that Lizzie had stuck a needle in her arm for the last time. She was DOA when the paramedics transported both of you to the hospital. Social services was circling and ready to scoop you up. Howard didn’t want you at first. Thought you were more trouble than you were worth.” She patted her chest. “But I cared. I talked him into taking you. And when Howard died, I still kept you.”

  “What happened next?” Melina asked.

  “You, Dean, and me hit the road. Just the three of us. I was headed to Virginia. I had friends there. I had to stop on the side of the road to pee and have a smoke. When I got back to the car, you were missing. You’d taken off. I looked for you, but I couldn’t find you. I went for help.”

  She supposed if a lie was repeated often enough, it became truth over the years. Maybe Bonnie actually felt guilty about what she had done. “Where’s Sonny?” she challenged. She would repeat the question until she got an answer.

  Bonnie shook her head. “You always were a difficult kid. You never accepted anything I told you. It was always a fight.”

  Melina shook her head. “Are you protecting him? Because if you are, it’s a mistake. He’s not the vulnerable kid he once was. He’s been killing women who look like you for years.”

  “Sonny loves me.”

  Melina turned to Ramsey, looking for backup. She was swimming in lies that were so emotionally charged that she needed confirmation she was on the right track.

  “Sounds like this is more about you, Bonnie, and the guilt you’re carrying,” Ramsey said.

  Bonnie chuckled, her easy disposition returning. “Are you going to fight her battles for her, Mr. FBI man? I bet she’s a real firecracker in bed.”

  Ramsey’s steady expression did not change.

  Melina imagined the jail cell door closing in Bonnie’s face. But if she locked up Bonnie now, she could not lead them to Sonny.

  “You going to tell me where Dean lives?” Ramsey said.

  “Like I told Melina, I don’t know,” Bonnie said. “Cops think you can keep asking the same question over and over until you get the answer you want. I don’t know where Sonny is!”

  “I’m warning you, Bonnie. Watch your step around Sonny,” Melina said. “He’s a very dangerous man.”

  Bonnie got into the car and reached for the door handle. “You worried about me, Mellie?”

  “You saw the pickle jar,” Melina said.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Bonnie said.

  Melina did not bother with any more warnings about Sonny. “Don’t come back to this house, Bonnie. Or you will be back in jail.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Bonnie closed the door and started the car.

  Stone faced, Melina watched the car drive away. Only when the Ford rounded the corner did she curl her fingers into fists. The encounter had unsettled her, but she had said her piece.

  Ramsey had the good sense not to ask how she was doing.

  “Let me check on my mother,” she said.

  “Sure,” he said.

  The two walked up the front steps and Melina used her key to open the door. “All’s clear, Mom and Dad.”

  Mrs. Shepard came around the corner with Elena on her hip. The little girl had coiled her legs and arms around her mother like a drowning person did a life raft.

  Mr. Shepard hobbled into the kitchen. His hand was behind his back and she knew he had a weapon.

  “Mom and Dad, this is Special Agent Ramsey. He’s with the FBI. We’ve been working a case together.”

  “What case?” her mother asked.

  “A missing persons case.” Ramsey extended his hand to both of them.

  Hank Shepard’s grip was strong, and his gaze reminded Melina of a cop trying to read a homicide scene. “How’s my daughter involved?”

  Ramsey didn’t appear surprised that she had not disclosed the details about the Key Killer. “Your daughter has been our local contact on the case.”

  “Where are you based?” her father asked.

  “FBI offices in Quantico, sir,” he said.

  “Division?”

  “I head up
a team of agents who work cases all over the country.”

  “Are you always vague with your answers?” her father asked.

  A small smile tugged at Ramsey’s lips, acknowledging that Shepard had called bullshit on his answer. “You know the drill. I can’t talk about an open case.”

  “I’m not asking for specifics,” Hank said. “Just generalities.”

  “It doesn’t matter now, Dad,” Melina said.

  “It does matter very much,” her mother said. “Agent Ramsey is here to investigate a crime with our daughter.”

  Melina winked at Elena. “I can’t discuss the details, Mom.”

  “We’ll see about that later,” her father said.

  Her father’s eyes burned with unasked questions. Elena was the only thing standing between her and a class-five parental grilling. That would come later when the kid was out of earshot. She owed the kid another bottle of bubbles.

  “Where is BB?” Elena whispered.

  “She just drove away,” Melina said.

  “BB doesn’t like cops,” Elena said.

  “They’re not all bad, kid,” Hank said. “Melina is a cop. I was a cop.”

  “Some are pretty talkative, too,” Molly said.

  “Did BB drive back to jail?” Elena asked.

  Six-year-old children should not have to ask questions like this. “No. She went to a motel room. But she’s not out of trouble yet,” Melina said.

  “BB’s always in trouble,” Elena said.

  Elena leaned her body into Mrs. Shepard as she stared at Melina with large brown intelligent eyes that all but swallowed up her face. The kid was smart, but life had taught her how to be practical. She might have been relying on Bonnie, but now she had clearly figured out the Shepards had her best interests at heart.

  “Don’t worry, Mom and Dad. You and I will have a nice visit, and I’ll fill you in on all the details. For now, I’ve got to get back to work. You shouldn’t have any more interruptions, but if you do, call me.”

  “I will,” her father said.

  She kissed her mother and then her father on their cheeks and held out her flat hand for Elena. “Give me five?”

  The girl’s eyes softened, and she raised her hand ready to smack it toward Melina’s. Just as Elena was about to connect, Melina jerked her hand. “One more time. Be quick this time.”