by Lois Kay
“I do,” Jody said. She kissed Sam’s shoulder. “And Trishia’s suggestion didn’t bother me, at all. In fact, I welcomed it. I need to digest what Alice told me. I want to have a clear head when I repeat the things she said to me. Besides, Fiona was present.”
“Yes, we need to talk to Trishia about that as well,” Sam said. She snuggled closer and let out a small chuckle. “She didn’t believe your story about the flooded apartment.”
“I know.” Jody groaned. “I felt so stupid. I hate lying.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Sam comforted her. “Later this morning, we’ll talk to Trishia and come up with a way to tell the girls something.”
“Okay,” was the sleepy answer and Sam smiled when she saw that Jody was fighting to keep her eyes open. “I wanted to massage your leg.”
Sam softly kissed first one eyelid and then the other. “Don’t worry about my leg. Go to sleep, love.”
“Night, Sam,” Jody whispered barely audible.
“Sleep well, love,” was Sam’s answer.
Jody let out a deep moan, snuggled even closer to Sam and was asleep within seconds. Sam smiled when she looked down and again, she felt her heart swell with love. Every time she looked at Jody and realized that they were together, it filled her with wonder. Trishia’s words echoed in her mind, and Sam felt a shiver run down her spine.
“We have every reason to believe that Alice is in danger. Somebody is looking for her. Why we don’t know. ……..But, somehow, we think Alice and the murderer know each other.”
Sam realized that if Trishia was right, there was no way to avoid getting involved. “Who am I kidding?” Sam scolded herself. “We are involved already. There’s a nutcase out there, looking for Alice, for heaven knows what kind of sick reason. If the police can’t catch him soon, he’ll end up here, and we’ll be in the middle of it.” The panic Sam felt rising constricted her chest and robbed her of her breath. Her heart was beating so fast, she could hear the blood thundering in her ears. “Don’t lose it, Sam,” a calm voice sounded in the back of her mind. “You have been through worse, remember? Just be careful. Work with the police, and you’ll all be safe. Trishia told you they have a head start. With a little luck, they can stay one step ahead, and it will be over before you know it.” Again, Sam cast a look at the peacefully sleeping Jody and immediately, her racing heart calmed, and she could breathe again. Her fear melted away and was replaced by a feeling of calm determination.
“Focus, Sam,” she whispered to herself.
The most important person in her life was Jody. And if necessary, Sam would move heaven and earth to keep her safe. And she would do the same for her family and friends. And for Alice. Sam pulled Jody even closer and smiled when the sleeping woman nuzzled her neck. Her eyes stared at the window where, through a crack in the blinds, she could see the darkness was shifting, and dawn had arrived.
She didn’t move because she didn’t want to wake Jody. Only the occasional blinking of her eyes indicated that Sam was very much awake. She was aware of the danger they all could be in and, practical as she was, she didn’t want to solely rely on the police to keep them safe. When the first rays of the sun tentatively touched the windowsill, Sam’s eyes watched the shifting shadows in their bedroom and sighed.
It would be an interesting day.
*
Peter Jones had been up all night, pacing the office, reading old reports and keeping himself pumped up with mugs of black coffee. After his phone call with Trishia, he sat in his chair, feeling the anger well up in his chest. He had been a police officer for years and had seen his share of misery. But the suffering of children always hit him with a raw intensity. He didn’t have the calm control Trishia had. He was the hothead of the two, and often Trishia had to jump in and keep him from doing something stupid. He had mellowed over the years, but still, his temper sometimes got the better of him.
After receiving the emails from Perth and Sydney he and Phil Kanides had been on the phone for a long time, trying to gather as much information as they could. Eventually, Peter had sent Phil home and had walked outside into the parking lot to stretch his legs and get some fresh air. The night had been surprisingly cool and the air, tinged with a hint of salt, had been refreshing. For the first time in years, Peter craved a cigarette, but he knew that if he gave into what he wanted, he would be hooked again. The image of the disappointment on his wife’s face was enough to prevent him from jumping in his car and looking for a place where he could buy a pack of cigarettes. A small smile tugged on the corner of his mouth when he pictured his wife, who would be fast asleep since it was still early in the morning. He had called her before she went to bed. He had no particular reason since he had already told her he would not be home for a while. He had just wanted to tell her that he loved her. Her reaction had been one of pleasant surprise and Peter had noticed her tears were close to falling when she had told him to be careful. He had promised her he would and asked her to make sure all the doors and windows were shut, and the alarm switched on.
If somebody would ever harm his family. Peter shivered and felt the anger flare again. The girl on the beach had been barely seventeen. The girl in Perth had been fifteen, and the girl from Sydney had just turned eighteen the day before she was murdered. They had been kids, and Peter could not help wondering where their parents had been. Where were their fathers? Peter knew for a certainty that if he had a teenage daughter, he would protect her. She would not be roaming the streets at night and end up stabbed to death on a beach.
“Who are you kidding, Jones?” he snorted. “Those girls were all runaways, well the ones in Sydney and Perth were anyway. They must have had a reason to run. For some kids, running away from home and living on the streets is better than staying in a bad situation. How sick and sad is that? Parents are supposed to provide a safe and loving home, but some kids have a damn good reason not to want to be around.”
Exhaling slowly after taking in a deep, calming breath, Peter stuffed his hands in the pockets of his cotton slacks and turned around. He wanted to go over the information again, to see if he had missed anything. As soon as it would be a decent time to call her, he would update Trishia on the little information he had gathered. It was not much yet, just some facts about the murder scenes. The names of the girls and where they had been from. The murder weapon. Pictures of the crime scenes and a few reports. It wasn’t much to go on, but at least it was better than nothing. He glanced at his watch. It was almost seven in the morning. After one more deep breath, Peter strolled back into the station and walked to his desk. He wanted to talk to Trishia, file his notes and go home for a few hours to sleep. Preferably in that order. He sat down in his chair and looked at his desk. It was littered with photos, reports and handwritten notes. He stared at the different piles. He was too tired to read. With determination, he grabbed a big envelope, created one, big stack and slid it inside. He opened one of his desk drawers, tossed the packet inside and locked it. He would go over it again later, with Trishia. Two could see more than one and a little rest would probably lift the fog that had settled in his brain.
“What the heck,” he mumbled to himself. “I’ll have some sleep first and then call Trishia. I can leave a message for her at the front desk.”
He pushed back his chair, stood up and purposefully strode out of the office, down the stairs, straight to his car. He made sure to roll down the windows so the cool morning air would keep him awake while he drove home. Without looking back, he pulled out and left the parking area, mingling with the traffic of the early morning rush.
A pair of light brown eyes in a clean-shaven face watched him leave. Only when Peter had completely disappeared out of sight, the figure stepped out of his vehicle and walked toward the entrance of the police station.
Chapter 8
The grass was still damp from the cool night air when a slender figure quietly made its way up the hill. Hidden from view, strong legs slowly, but determinedly carried a muscular body
closer to the house on top of the hill. It was unusually quiet, and it was obvious that the occupants of the house were still asleep. The blinds that covered the bedroom windows were closed, and there were no signs of life on the veranda or in the adjacent kitchen. Eyes that shone with anticipation scanned the area in search of the dog and located the canine fast asleep in his usual spot close to the door. The figure knew the dog could wake up at any moment and sound the alarm, so the front of the house was given a wide berth. There was no sound when the feet of the intruder carried its body to the back of the house, leaving shallow imprints in the grass. With unerring accuracy, the prowler approached one of the bedroom windows. A hand reached out and touched the wood of the blinds that already felt warm under the steadily rising early morning sun. A grin showed a flash of white teeth when slender fingers reached underneath the blind to slowly pull it open. It was time for some action.
*
For the sixth time in ten minutes, Joan McDonnell cast a look at the clock on the kitchen wall, and that was providing a steady, rhythmical background sound of soft ticking. It was the only sound she could hear since the house was still bathed in silence. With a frown, she looked at the coffee that had been fresh almost an hour ago, but it gradually started to look like it was getting stronger and darker. Maybe she should pour it down the sink and make a fresh pot. She knew Sam appreciated a fresh cup of coffee in the morning. With a sigh, Joan decided to wait until she heard some signs of life. What if she did make a fresh pot and the girls didn’t show up for another hour? That would be a waste. No, she would wait for the girls to get up.
Joan carefully rubbed the side of her face where a big, purple bruise had left a painful mark. It was a visible reminder of her ordeal from the previous day. She shivered when, again, she realized what could have happened if Alice had not shown up. She could have become a little newspaper article in The Gold Coast Bulletin.
“Woman Assaulted and Stabbed to Death in Parking Garage.”
“Thank God for Alice,” Joan whispered from the bottom of her heart. Sipping her third cup of coffee, she opened the kitchen door and stepped outside on the veranda. It was a little after nine o’clock and still relatively early, but the earth was already warming up. Joan cast a look at the bright, blue sky and didn’t need to hear a science-based, meteorological forecast to know that it would be another hot day. And the girls were sleeping the morning away, she realized. It wasn’t something they did on a regular base. She knew Jody and Sam usually got up early.
“Well, maybe they like sleeping in this Saturday. What do you think, boy?” she mused, scratching Kurt behind his ears.
The dog cheerfully wagged his tail and jumped off the veranda, looking for a stick. Maybe the flowery smelling human would play with him since his favorite one was still not around.
Joan smiled when the Shepherd tried to scramble back up the stairs, with a stick that was so big, he almost toppled over by the sheer weight of it.
“I’m afraid I won’t be able to throw this one, Kurt,” she chuckled. “Let’s find another one, alright?”
Joan set down her cup on the table and walked down the stairs, followed by an enthusiastic dog, who was thrilled to have finally found somebody who would play with him. It was not hard to find a stick that was more suitable for the pup and with an experienced move, Joan threw the stick away. Not able to contain his happiness, Kurt ran after it and got hold of the wood as soon as it touched the ground. With the stick firmly clenched between his healthy teeth, he started to vigorously shake his head, which made Joan laugh out loud.
“Make sure it’s dead, before you return it, boy,” she grinned.
‘“Are you teaching our dog bad manners, Mom?” Jody’s voice suddenly called out.
“Good morning, honey,” Joan greeted with a warm smile. “I didn’t hear you come out. Do you want some coffee?”
“I’d love some,” Jody returned the smile and watched her mother walk toward her. Kurt looked at her retreating back with a sad expression in his brown eyes. That was a short game.
“Morning, Mom,” Jody greeted her mother with a hug. “How is your face? Did you have a good sleep?”
“I slept like a log, thanks, honey,” Joan answered, giving Jody’s shoulders a loving squeeze. “Those pain pills completely knocked me out, and I’m glad because I feel a lot better already. No headache.”
Together they walked back into the kitchen and Jody gestured for her mother to sit down.
“You might want to make a fresh pot, Jody. That one has been sitting there for more than an hour already.”
Jody made a face and poured the steaming liquid down the sink. “Yes, we’re up late today,” she said casually, trying to come up with a way to tell her mother about everything that had happened during the night. She knew they would have to tell her something since Lucy and Trishia were at the guesthouse and could make an appearance anytime soon. Jody quickly started a fresh pot of coffee, and after pouring herself a glass of orange juice, she sat down at the kitchen table, across from her mother.
“What’s up?” Joan calmly asked.
A pair of startled green eyes immediately looked up, and Joan smiled when she saw Jody’s look of surprise. She reached out and covered Jody’s hand with her own. “I know you, daughter-mine. To me, your face is an open book. I know you want to tell me something and I have the feeling I’m not going to like it.”
Jody shook her head, seeing the growing worry on her mother’s face.
“Is it about Alice?” Joan quickly asked, aware of the feeling of dread that crept into the pit of her stomach.
“Yes, it is,” Jody truthfully answered. “The poor kid.”
The last three words took away some of Joan’s concern. At least it didn’t sound like Alice had done something drastic, like running off in the middle of the night.
“What is it?” Joan quietly asked.
In a soft and controlled voice, Jody told her mother about Trishia’s and Lucy’s presence in the guest house and the reason they were there. When she relayed the information about the murdered girl and the picture that had been found on the body, Jody could see her mother’s face turn pale.
Joan swallowed hard and tried to push away the image of Alice’s body, lying in the sand, with a fatal stab wound to the chest. Tears stung the back of her eyes when she realized Trishia’s gut feeling and concern for the teenager might have very well saved Alice’s life. If Trishia hadn’t decided to do something controversial and take Alice with her—. Involuntarily, Joan shivered when the gravity of the situation sank in. Her fingers nervously tried to find something to do. In the past, she had the habit of turning around her wedding ring when she was nervous, but that piece of jewelry had been removed when she had left David McDonnell, and her ring finger had been bare ever since.
Jody’s warm hands covered the fidgeting fingers, and when Joan looked up, she saw the determination in her daughter’s eyes. “We will do our utmost to keep her safe,” she promised. “But until we can all sit down and talk about how we’re going to accomplish that, the girls are not supposed to know. We don’t want to scare them.” Jody let out a soft laugh. “Of course, Fiona saw straight through me last night,” she told her mother. “She can be such a terror sometimes.”
“And you’re not exactly a good liar, honey,” Joan answered. “Which, of course, is to your credit.”
“Thanks,” Jody replied wryly. She looked up when she heard a sound behind her, and two warm hands were placed on her shoulders.
“Hey, love,” Sam’s voice rumbled in her ear, and a soft kiss was placed on her cheek. “Good morning, Joan,” Sam greeted her mother-in-law, while her eyes quickly studied the older woman’s face. Sam noticed the lines of worry that were etched around her eyes, but she also saw that the swelling on the side of her face had gone down and that pleased her immensely. “Your face looks a lot better,” Sam smiled, pulling out a chair and sitting down next to Jody. “The bruise is still there of course, but it doesn’t
look as swollen as it did yesterday.”
Joan carefully touched her face. “I know, and I’m glad about that,” she said. “I had a good rest last night, but it sounds like I was the only one. Jody just told me we have other worries now.”
Sam nodded and put one arm around the back of Jody’s chair, so her fingers could lightly graze her shoulder. “I’m afraid so,” Sam confessed. “It’s still hard to believe how quick we went from living our happy lives, to have to be on the lookout for a murderer. It boggles my mind and to be honest, it pisses me off as well.”
Jody cast a look at Sam and reached over to touch her face. “I understand, Sam. Just be careful around Alice, she… I noticed last night she’s very insecure and if she’d pick up on your anger, she might think it’s directed at her.”
“I’ll be careful, Jody, thanks for the warning,” Sam smiled and quickly stole a kiss. “Talking about teenagers, where are ours?”
“Still asleep I guess,” Jody answered, she stood up to pour them a fresh cup of coffee. “It was a short night for them as well.” The look in Sam’s eyes made her freeze in mid-motion and a feeling of dread settled in the pit of her stomach. “Sam?” she whispered, seeing her face gone pale.
“I… just walked passed their rooms and the doors were open, but the girls were not inside,” Sam breathed. Then the reality of her words sank in, and she jumped up, knocking over the kitchen chair in the process.
“When did you get up, Mom?” Jody asked a shocked Joan.
“A little over an hour ago,” Joan answered with a trembling voice. “I haven’t seen or heard…. oh, my God!”
Sam’s face was a grim mask when she slid her cell phone out of her pocket and speed-dialed Trishia’s number.
“I’ll call Trish, and then I’ll go out to look for them. I’ll take Kurt with me,” she announced, waiting for Trishia to answer the phone. “Jody, I want you and your mom to stay inside and lock the doors. Don’t open them for anyone, except for us.”
