The First Victim

by JB Lynn

  Straightening up from his picture taking, Sam smiled. “I’ll even give you a personal baking lesson if you’d like.” Nodding at both men he said, “I’m sure I’ll see you back at The Garden Gate.” Sticking the camera back in his pocket, he ambled away.

  “When you’re through here, we’ll be down by the lake,” Morgan told his partner who had snapped on a pair of latex gloves and bent to pick up one of the poster boards with messages from Jackie’s friends.

  Black glanced over. “Yes, Chase, I did hear that. Your old, frail self is taking the steep path. As a highly trained agent, I’m thinking I’ll probably be able to find you, but if you want to leave me a trail of bread crumbs…”

  “Oh shut up,” Morgan muttered.

  Emily smiled. The banter between the two men softened Black, made him seem warmer. He and his partner were obviously close.

  Leading the way to the path to the lake, she said, “Bailey mentioned an autopsy was done on Jackie Willet this morning. Did you find any clues?”

  Morgan grunted noncommittally.

  She paused at the edge of the gravel-lined path. Since it was the place where she’d been grabbed, she’d actually made a point to avoid it ever since her abduction.

  Even now, just looking at it, her heart rate had increased and her breathing had become shallow. She forced herself to take a deep breath. Calm, cool and collected. Calm, cool and collected. It’s just a place. Nothing can hurt you here.

  Oblivious to her distress, the older FBI agent lurched past her, the gravel crunching beneath his uneven steps.

  Despite the welling sense of trepidation rising within her, she followed.

  As they moved closer to the lake, the path grew dim. A canopy of branches and leaves blocked out most of the light, casting dappling shadows on the ground. Emily shivered. There’d been a time when she’d made a game of leaping from shadow to shadow. Now she just wanted out.

  Reaching the bend in the path where the monster had grabbed her, she sped up. Desperate to be out again in the open air, she sped past the limping agent, chased by the unseen demon from her past. She squeezed the basket, as though by holding on to it, she could keep a hold of her wayward emotions.

  Finally she reached the clearing. Tilting her head back to look up at the blue sky, she finally exhaled the breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. Slightly light-headed from the exertion and the fact she’d forgotten to breathe, she swayed unsteadily. “Get a grip, Em,” she muttered. “Everything’s okay. You’re just fine.”

  “What a beautiful spot.” Chase Morgan sounded breathless too as he came up behind her.

  Keeping her back to him she nodded, not trusting herself to speak to him yet. She walked over to the picnic table by the water’s edge. Like every other furnishing at the Wright house, it too was a replacement. When Emily had been growing up, a wooden picnic table, the kind that gave you splinters if you weren’t careful when you sat down, the kind that she and Ginny had carved their initials into when they were twelve, had occupied this very spot. Now the table was some sort of plastic, made to look like wood. No doubt it would withstand the ravages of the weather better, but it didn’t feel like a real picnic table.

  “I miss the old wooden kind,” Chase said, carefully lowering himself onto one of the benches. “Are you going to share those?”

  Emily turned to face him. She’d been staring out at the lake, looking in the direction of the house Bailey had grown up in. His sharp-tongued grandmother still lived there. She handed Agent Morgan the basket, and smiled as he eagerly ripped off the plastic covering. “They’re pistachio. Kind of an acquired taste.”

  “I’m not picky, I’m starving.” Still he had the good manners to offer her one before he dove into the basket himself.

  Feeling queasy, she refused with a shake of her head.

  “You blew past me back there on the path, looking like the devil himself was on your tail.”

  “Maybe he was,” Emily murmured quietly. Shaking her head to rid herself of the bleakness that threatened to engulf her, she asked, “Why are you really here?”

  “I told you, we wanted to see the scene during the day.”

  “Okay, I’ll buy that from your partner, but not you. What are you here looking for?”

  Having the grace to look ashamed, he cleared his throat.

  “Do you—”

  He never finished his question because Special Agent Sebastian Black came running down the trail. “Chase! Chase!”

  Emily sensed by the squinty lines that formed around the older man’s eyes, that he wasn’t expecting his partner to be delivering good news. Her own stomach flip-flopped in nervous anticipation.

  “Excuse me for just a second.” Morgan slowly got to his feet.

  Sebastian stopped at the edge of the clearing, obviously wanting to be out of earshot of her. He passed the piece of poster board he was carrying from one hand to the other impatiently, as he waited for his partner to join him.

  Emily was tempted to watch them, maybe she’d be able to read their lips and figure out what was going on. Instead, she turned her attention back to the lake. She hadn’t seen this view of it for a very long time. It hadn’t changed all that much. Some of the docks jutting out into the water were new, and it looked like a second story had been added to the Leeds’ place, but besides that it looked the same as she remembered. The ugly, rusted sculpture of a pelican was still standing in the Wetmores’ yard. She’d have thought that old thing would have crumbled to dust by now.

  A lone rowboat was drifting across the lake’s surface. From this distance it appeared to be unoccupied, but she guessed that its occupant had curled up in the bottom of the boat to catch some sun. It was something she’d done often enough herself as a kid.

  The gentle sloshing of the lake against the shore almost drowned out the hushed conversation of the two FBI agents.

  She closed her eyes and listened, not to the men, but to the happy tweeting of the birds, as she remembered how much she used to love this spot. The beauty. The quiet. The peace. She was surprised at how much she still did. It was only the path she disliked, not this place.

  Hearing footsteps approaching she opened her eyes, and swiveled in her seat to look at Morgan and Black. Knowing that they had more bad news, and wanting to delay its delivery, she held up the basket to the younger agent. “Sure you don’t want one?”

  “They’re green!” He made them sound as though they were glowing nuclear waste.

  “They’re pistachio,” Emily said.

  “They’re good,” Chase chimed in.

  “The only green foods I eat are vegetables,” the younger agent insisted.

  “You don’t know what you’re missing.” Morgan sat down opposite Emily. “Agent Black found something.”

  “What he was looking for?”

  He shook his head. “No, but something significant.”

  Black held up the poster board. To her it looked like all of the others. Messages from Jackie Willet’s friends, scrawled in permanent marker, adorned with hearts and frownie faces. “It’s a message.”

  “I can see that.”

  “No, it’s a message to you.” Slowly he turned the oversized piece of paper over.

  Emily’s breath caught in her throat as she read the bold typeface. “WELCOME HOME EMILY!” The words had been printed from a computer and pasted on the sign. She stared at it, unable to breathe, unable to think. Clasping her hands together, she rubbed the scar on her palm with her thumb.

  Chase reached across the table, and placed his hand over hers in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture. Emily jerked away from his touch so violently that she almost fell backward off the bench.

  “Sorry,” he murmured gently. “I know this is upsetting—”

  “You don’t know the half of it.” Emily leaped to her feet, needing to put some space between herself and the men with eyes full of questions, needing to get away from that horrible note. She didn’t want to go to the p
ath, so she instead marched to the edge of the dock. Her legs felt rubbery, but she wasn’t sure if it was because of the swaying of the dock as it was buffeted by the currents of the lake, or if she was going into shock.

  Forcing herself to take slow, calming breaths, she did her best to tamp down the fear that had risen inside her. It was choking her with a viselike grip at the base of her throat, making it hard to swallow.

  “Get a grip, Em. Get a grip.” Who was doing this to her? What did they want? How was this all connected to Jackie Willet’s death? So many questions, they made her head spin. She didn’t have any answers. She needed help. She wished Bailey was here. He’d know what to do.

  Slowly she turned to face the two FBI agents. Maybe they could help her to figure this out. They had to or another teenage girl might die. Soon.

  Chapter 17

  Emily Wright had seen him. Almost.

  At least that’s what it had felt like. He’d been out on the boat. A rowboat, chosen because it was quieter than a motorboat and less likely to catch someone’s eye than a sailboat. He’d taken it out on the water to see if he could catch a glimpse of her in the house. He couldn’t risk getting any closer during the day, not yet anyway. It wasn’t time.

  He’d rowed out to the middle of lake, snatched up his binoculars and trained them in the direction of the Wright property. He’d been disappointed when he spotted no activity in the house. Then his gaze had drifted down to the shoreline and he’d spotted her.

  Shocked, he almost fell off his seat. As far as he knew, she hadn’t been down to the water’s edge since before her abduction. For weeks after she’d been taken, he’d watched for her, but she never again lazed lakeside as had been her habit before she’d been taken.

  Now she was there. A quick sweep of the area revealed that damn Fed was with her. They were sitting at the table, having a fucking picnic or something. The bastard.

  He was the one who was supposed to be playing with her. She was his. He was the one who’d gone to so much trouble to bring her here. It was his plan.

  Stick to the plan. Stick to the plan.

  The younger agent came flying down the path.

  He smiled. They’d found his note. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. He watched as the two men conferred. Emily turned and looked out at the lake. Her gaze spun in his direction.

  Dropping the binoculars, he balled himself into the basin of the boat. It wasn’t time for her to see him. Not yet.

  He didn’t dare sit back up for fear she’d point him out to the men she was with. Instead he waited, hiding. He was good at waiting, having done it for fifteen years for her. He was good at hiding. The police and FBI had never caught him. They’d never even gotten so much as a sketch of him.

  Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the lock of hair he’d snipped from Jackie Willet. Raising it to his nose, he inhaled deeply.

  So sweet.

  Closing his eyes, rocked by the gentle undulations of the water, he imagined that the sweet, silky softness was actually Emily. Fingers fumbling with the zipper of his jeans, he imagined that he was touching her, tasting her.

  “Soon Emily. Soon.”

  Emily waited to pick up Laurie outside of Lakeside High.

  She glanced at her cell phone as she stood there. Marisol had called twice, but Emily didn’t have the energy to even listen to the messages she had left. She had too much on her plate already.

  Laurie had not wanted to go to school today, but Emily had insisted, believing as Anna did that talking to other kids about the loss of her friend would be healthier than sitting around an empty house moping all day. She’d practically had to frog-march the younger girl through the doors of the school that morning, and she didn’t know what to expect when her sister walked back out them.

  Her cell buzzed as she held it. Emily didn’t recognize the number. Was it him, calling? The creep? The killer? She answered tentatively. “Hello?”

  “Miss Wright?”

  “Yes.” She exhaled a sigh of relief when she realized it was a woman on the other side of the call.

  “This is Doctor Wyatt. We met the other day. I’m your father’s physician.”

  “Yes, yes of course, Doctor Wyatt.”

  “I wanted to call and tell you personally. Your father’s regained consciousness.”

  “What?”

  “He’s awake.”

  All the air and energy spluttered out of Emily. She leaned weakly against the SUV.

  “Miss Wright?”

  “I thought…You said…”

  “I don’t want you to get your hopes up, Miss Wright. He’s still in critical condition.”

  “Okay, I understand. Thank you for calling, Doctor.” Ending the call, Emily had an almost overwhelming urge to smash the phone into the ground.

  Slowly, students began to trickle out of the building. Like the day before, the lot was crammed with nervous parents. For a moment, Emily considered getting back into the SUV and driving off. She could just keep going, heading back to the city. She could leave this place behind and never look back. After all, she wasn’t equipped to deal with Laurie. Wouldn’t she be better off here, in familiar surroundings, with her friend? Maybe she could move in with Anna. Emily would be more than happy to compensate Anna’s parents for serving as her little sister’s guardian. That way Laurie’s life wouldn’t be uprooted and Emily could get back hers.

  Hating herself for her selfish thoughts, Emily scanned the sea of faces now streaming out of the school. Spotting Anna’s pink hair, she was then able to see her sister walking beside her pierced friend.

  She’d gone to school without her usual face of makeup today. Her fresh-scrubbed countenance looked heartbreakingly vulnerable.

  Emily sighed. She could never abandon Laurie again. Never. No matter how much she might want to.

  Anna waved cheerily, and even Laurie managed a half smile when they saw her. Emily’s gut twisted guiltily. How could she even consider the idea of leaving her sister to fend for herself?

  “Hi, Emily!” Anna chirped. “My mom’s working late tonight. She asked if it would be okay if I hung out with you guys until they get home.”

  “Of course.” Anna’s presence was always a pleasure. Emily waited until they were all buckled into the Escalade before revealing, “Doctor Wyatt just called me.”

  Laurie paled, her eyes instantly filling with tears and her lower lip trembling.

  “No, no, no,” Emily soothed in a rush, wanting to wipe the stricken expression from her sister’s face. “Apparently your…Dad has woken up.”

  Laurie’s eyes grew wide. “Really?”

  “But she also said that we shouldn’t get our hopes up. He’s still in grave condition.”

  “I have to go see him!”

  “I know.” Emily put the vehicle into Drive and for the second time that day headed to the hospital.

  Emily stared dejectedly at the tower of pretzels she’d made. She was getting really sick of these things. She’d spent way too much time in the hospital’s excuse for a coffee shop over the past few days.

  She’d finally listened to Marisol’s calls. She’d assumed that her partner had been calling with one of her usual “disasters,” but had been pleasantly surprised to find that both times her friend had just called to let her know she was thinking about her and to find out if there was anything she could do to help. Marisol assured her that, having landed the Armstrong account, the team had gotten right to work and everything was flowing smoothly.

  Soon, Emily might take her up on that offer and ask Marisol to find her a good lawyer. She wanted to figure out how to get custody of Laurie. Her sister deserved to have someone take exceptional care of her. Emily knew that despite her misgivings, she was the only person for the job.

  Laurie was visiting their now-conscious father, while Anna, ever the loyal friend, stood guard in the hallway, doodling in her notebook.

  “Hey.”

  Emily looked up and smiled. It shook her a bit
to realize how happy she was to see Bailey leaning in the doorway. Dressed in uniform, he once again looked like a man in charge. The memory of their earlier sizzling kiss warmed her despite the chill of the hospital air-conditioning. She found herself focusing on his lips. “Hey, yourself.”

  Snatching the topmost pretzel without upsetting the tower, he sat down opposite her. “Just saw your father.”

  Pulling another salty treat from the bag, she focused on placing it atop the others without knocking them all over.

  “You’re here on official business?”

  “Rumor has it your father woke up. Since his accident is still being investigated, I thought I’d stop by and ask him about it.”

  “He’s got a breathing tube so he can’t talk.”

  “I also thought it might be a good excuse to see you.”

  She looked up at him to find that he was angling a blatantly flirtatious smile her way.

  Her heart beat a little faster as she grinned back at him.

  “Have you seen him?” Bailey asked, bringing the conversation back to business.

  She shook her head. “Laurie’s with him.”

  He took the top two pretzels off the pile.

  She wondered if the FBI agents had told him about the note Black had found. Since he hadn’t mentioned it, she doubted it. Maybe they didn’t want him to know, but she had to talk to someone about it. “Did you hear about the note?”

  Something in her voice must have signaled her distress because he leaned in closer. “What note?”

  “Agent Black found a note on the back of one of the signs that Jackie’s friends had made and left at that shrine in front of the house. It said ‘WELCOME HOME EMILY.’” Her hand shook slightly as she lifted another pretzel atop the tower. “It’s not the first. One was left outside my room at The Garden Gate along with a dozen roses, and another was left on the windshield of the car the first time I came here.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You had other things on your mind. Besides I didn’t think it was that important. They seemed harmless. All they said was ‘Welcome Home Emily.’ It wasn’t until after Jackie had been killed that…” She hesitated for a moment as Bailey winced at the mention of the murdered girl. “But this one…Agents Morgan and Black seemed to think it was significant.” Her hand was shaking too badly to continue her stacking game. She put it down on the table. He immediately covered it with his. On a whisper she confessed, “I’m scared, Bay.”