Brink of Death

by Brandilyn Collins

  “Oh, Jenna, I am so sorry.”

  She made no reply. I could hear her sniffling.

  I stopped pacing, lowered myself to the thick area rug.

  Then stretched out flat on my back. My elbow hung a few inches off the carpet as I held the phone to my ear.

  “Why don’t you fly on up tonight. No point in hanging around there by yourself.”

  “I know. I thought I might as well come, especially with all you’re facing there. But I didn’t want to wait to tell you. I just…wanted to hear your voice now.”

  I gazed at the office ceiling, so far away. I could just as easily jump to touch it from my supine position as find the strength to deal with this one more thing. I’d been looking forward to Jenna’s return so she could support me. Now I needed to help her.

  “Sure, I understand. Listen. Bring a lot of clothes. Just come up and stay awhile. We’ll be together and…figure everything out.”

  She expelled air. “Everything, huh.”

  “Yeah. The universe, even.”

  We were silent for a moment. Then I chanted soothing platitudes—that she would find a better job, one more exciting. That this would all work out, she would see. I even scraped the bottom of the barrel, encouraging her to “think good thoughts”—the old, empty words of our mother. Jenna listened and thanked me, not for any wisdom in my words, for there was none, but for my concern.

  She changed the subject. “How was the funeral?”

  Wasn’t that a loaded question. I couldn’t begin to explain on the phone everything that had happened.

  “It was very nice.”

  I glanced at my watch. Past five-thirty. Anxiety seized me.

  Darkness was less than four hours away and there was much to be done. I could picture my sister moping around her town house, taking her time. She would call friends who’d been laid off, coworkers, maybe even an ex-boyfriend or two, seeking commiseration. “Jenna, listen to me.” I didn’t try to keep the urgency from my voice. “Hurry and get up here, okay? I hate to put this on you now, but some things have happened and we’ve got to decide what to do.”

  Jenna drew in air. “Did you have another scare last night in the house?”

  “No.”

  “Do they think they’ve caught the guy?”

  “Oh, how I wish.”

  “Annie. You remembered.”

  “Yes.”

  My sister knew me too well. She could hear from my tone that the result was anything but positive.

  “Tell me!”

  I would not, even though she continued to press for details. For once, I did not cave in to her demands. I just could not imagine telling the whole story over the phone while the sun moved toward the horizon, dragging our fate into darkness. What’s more, I knew that if I did not tell, Jenna’s innate curiosity would get the best of her—and jump-start her on the way to the plane. “Just get here and I’ll explain everything.”

  We started to hang up but I pulled the receiver back, my mouth forming words I could not have imagined saying even an hour ago.

  “One thing before you come, Jenna, but do it quickly. Buy some bullets for that gun.”

  Chapter 27

  Beep-beep, beep-beep, came the faint tone from the timer in the kitchen.

  He grabbed the stack of printed pages from his office desk and headed down the hall. Tossing the papers on the kitchen table, he crossed the room to pull his tenderized leg of lamb from the convection oven. Laying the pan on the granite counter, he sniffed and smiled. Baked to perfection, and the herbs smelled heavenly. In careful array he served himself on a large plate. Leg of lamb toward the bottom, jasmine rice to the left, mixed vegetables to the right. A slice of his own baked wheat bread on a side plate. He took his meal to the table, fetched some silverware, a napkin, and a glass of red wine, and sat to enjoy his culinary abilities as he read the newspaper articles once more.

  He spread out the various pieces of paper in order. Online articles from the Redding paper for Tuesday, Wednesday, and today. He’d read them a dozen times.

  Wednesday’s article had caused his jaw to drop. Annie Kingston drew the composite. Annie Kingston!

  He thrust a bite of meat into his mouth, savoring its flavor.

  He’d gone around and around, thinking about Annie. Considering the possible fallout of her involvement. After seeing today’s article, he’d convinced himself he was safe. Reporters were a nosy bunch. If there had been information to turn up, they’d most likely have done it, just like pigs turning up the ground with their snouts.

  But he’d seen nothing.

  He grunted at that and thrust his fork under the mound of rice.

  According to yesterday’s news, the funeral had been this afternoon. There’d be mourners about the neighborhood, grieving relatives staying overnight. Too many people coming and going.

  But things would die down after that. No matter what happened in life, people had a way of getting back to normal.

  So many times he’d counted on that. People got lazy when things became normal.

  He wiped his mouth, then sipped the wine.

  When the time to go back was right, he’d know it. He’d feel it. Until then he was safe. Bunch of stupid sheriff’s deputies out there, thinking they knew everything. Thinking they’d catch their suspect. He chuckled. They’d never catch him. He was the Man.

  He was In Control.

  Just one little thing kept bothering him. One little voice in the back of his head. Little Ms. Annie Kingston could get to thinking too much.

  He narrowed his eyes.

  So what? She obviously didn’t know everything.

  Still. She could open up…things.

  She could make his plans go Out of Control. And that was something he could never allow.

  He cut another bite of lamb and laid it upon his tongue.

  Cut one bite of meat at a time, that’s what his mother had taught him. It never paid to lack manners.

  He took a breath and chewed with satisfaction.

  Annie Kingston had better watch herself.

  Chapter 28

  As I hung up the phone from Jenna’s call, the doorbell rang.

  Though the door to the office was closed, I heard Kelly’s footsteps reverberating through the great room, the sound of voices. I recognized Erin’s.

  Irrational panic seized me. For a second all I could do was stare at the telltale yellow papers. Erin should not be allowed to see them—these pages that had caused her mother’s death.

  Slapping the file closed, I shoved it into the middle drawer of the desk, scattering my father’s perfectly arranged pens and paper clips. The dull thud of the drawer’s closing rocketed me back to the night of the murder, listening to Erin’s description of the sounds she heard in her home. For no reason at all my heart slammed into a rapid beat. I could not let Erin see me here—at the office desk, guilt on my face.

  Hiding what her mother’s killer was looking for.

  I moved around the desk and across the office to the file cabinet. I tossed my father’s briefcase back into the open drawer and rolled it shut, then headed for the door. There I paused, working to pull myself together. Willing myself not to think of how Erin would see me, see this entire household, when she heard the truth.

  Erin’s presence brought other problems as well. I needed to call Detective Chetterling right away. But how would I explain his arrival, and our low-voiced discussion behind closed doors, to Erin? Dave should not have to hear rumors through his daughter.

  Dave.

  His anguished question of three days ago— Why? —

  resounded in my ears. And his words about the killer: He was in my office, looking for something. When he heard the truth, he would not have to blame himself any longer. He could turn his anger instead on me. Pain shot through me at the thought, both for myself and for our daughters. They were friends, and I didn’t want them to suffer any more than they already were.

  But I couldn’t think of that now.
I opened the door and left the office.

  Across the great room I saw Kelly and Erin standing before the refrigerator, surveying its contents. I couldn’t help but smile. There stood Erin, a twelve-year-old on the day of her mother’s funeral, searching out a snack.

  The world did go on.

  “Erin, honey, it’s so good to see you.” I entered the kitchen and pulled her into a hug. “Is all your family still at your house? Looks like a lot of cars over there.”

  Our own guests, Ed and Carol, would be leaving tomorrow. They had told me they would return to Dave’s house following the funeral.

  “Yeah. Most of ‘em go tomorrow.” She pulled away with a small attempt at a smile.

  I ran my hand down her silky hair, searching for something else to say and finding nothing.

  “What are we having for dinner, Mom?” Kelly asked.

  Dinner. I hadn’t even thought of it. “Uh, I don’t know.”

  “Erin’s tired of casseroles.” Kelly made a face. “It’s all she’s eaten for the last three days.”

  I nodded. “Shall we order pizza?”

  “Yes!” Erin and Kelly answered as one.

  We hadn’t found a take-out place in Redding that would deliver to Grove Landing. I’d have to go pick it up. At the thought my way grew clear before me. Ordering a pizza would give me a reason to drive to the city—where I could meet with Detective Chetterling in his office.

  “Tell you what. I have to run some errands anyway. I’ll order the pizza when I get into town.”

  I peeled Chetterling’s card off the refrigerator. My eyes fell on Gerri’s card, and something inside me leapt at the sight of her name. On impulse I took it as well.

  On the way back to the office, I detoured to stand at the top of the stairs leading into Stephen’s cave, yelling down to ask him what he wanted on the pizza. He spent far too much time down there at the computer. But what else was he to do? Summer vacation, and I’d moved him out to the sticks, where he had not one friend. I did feel sorry for him, even though I knew I’d made the right choice.

  Sausage and pepperoni, he yelled back.

  I reentered my father’s office and shut the door. Crossing to the desk, I picked up the phone, looking at the two business cards in my hand. I fully intended to call Detective Chetterling. But somehow I ended up dialing Gerri Carson instead.

  Before I knew it, I was rattling off the entire story about the file and the Face. Gerri’s soothing manner pulled it from me and wound it around the spool of her stability, as one might wind a tangled mass of thread. She uttered words of support and comfort, as if she understood my every emotion.

  Then I told her everything else—my concern for what to do with the kids, and Jenna’s losing her job, and that I planned to come into town, see Detective Chetterling, and pick up a pizza.

  “That’s good. You’re bringing the kids with you, I assume?”

  Her words hit me like a sledgehammer. I blinked, my answer sticking in my throat. No, I hadn’t planned on bringing the kids. In fact, I’d wanted to leave them home so they wouldn’t know what was going on. Home—alone. What had I been thinking? At fifteen and twelve, the kids under normal circumstances could be home alone, but after the past few days we weren’t exactly living under normal circumstances.

  There I was, the fretting mother worried over my children’s safety, and at the very same time I was planning a move that was anything but safe.

  Selfish gratitude for Jenna’s lost job burst through me. I was going to need my sister’s help through this. I needed her beside me, talking things through, protecting me from doing something stupid. At the very least I needed her to stay with the kids if I was forced to go into town.

  “Gerri, can you believe this? I wasn’t planning on bringing them! I just…wasn’t thinking straight.” My throat pinched closed. I lowered my head and rested it against my fist. “All of a sudden I don’t know what to do.”

  “Sounds like you’re feeling overwhelmed at the moment.”

  Her voice was gentle. “How about if I come over right now?

  In the meantime you could make two phone calls. First to Detective Chetterling, telling him you’ve remembered where you saw the suspect and asking him to come over right away.

  And second, if you’ll call in your pizza order, I’ll pick it up and bring it to you.”

  I could not see my way any further than the path Gerri had laid before me. Two phone calls—that I could do. “Okay.

  To everything you just said.” I told her what restaurant I’d be ordering the pizza from.

  “And Annie, one more thing. I’m going to be praying for you, starting right now until I reach your door. I’m going to pray that God eases your mind, gives you clarity of thought.

  He is the God of peace, you know, and he can bring you calmness—even in the midst of a storm like this.”

  “Thank you,” I managed, even though I felt not the least trust in her prayers.

  I hung up the phone and dialed the number of the restaurant.

  Chapter 29

  Something strange happened inside me after I ordered our pizza. It wasn’t sudden or strong. It was more of a quieting, like the slow settling of whipped winds into a gentle breeze.

  Somehow my fears lulled, my thoughts stilled, became more clear. When I gathered the nerve to call Detective Chetterling, I was able to talk to him calmly, while conveying that I needed to see him right away.

  This reining in of my fears transcended any power I had within me. I’d never experienced anything like it before and didn’t quite know what to make of it. To attribute it to Gerri’s prayers would be as foreign to me as reading Chinese. To attribute it to mere coincidence, when I believed Gerri was praying for me, seemed…ungrateful. As if I were belittling her sincere faith.

  It was probably just the result of the power of suggestion.

  I hung up the phone from talking with Detective Chetterling and leaned my head back against the chair. From a distance I heard a plane engine. This was the time of day when those Grove Landing residents who commuted to work by air would be returning home. Already two planes had chut-chutted their way to our street. I was so used to the sounds by now that I hardly registered them. Soon Jenna would be taxiing up the street, and I would run to open the hangar door. She’d turn the plane perpendicular to the house and shut off the engine. Knowing my sister, she’d be pumping me for details even as the powered tow bar pushed the plane into the hangar.

  The office door opened. Kelly appeared, disapproval wrinkling her forehead. “I thought you were going to get the pizza. We’re starved!”

  “It’s already on its way. Gerri Carson’s bringing it.”

  “Why?”

  How to answer that? “I just happened to call her, and she was on her way here, so she said she’d bring it.”

  Kelly looked at me with suspicion. “Why was she on her way here?”

  “She just wanted to talk to me, that’s all.” I heard the rising frustration in my tone and fought to push it down. Kelly was sensitive enough. I did not need to give her reason to think something was wrong. “Listen, Kelly. Detective Chetterling is going to come over to talk to me, too. No big deal, it’s just about the composite I drew. And, you know, they’re still trying to find the man who…broke into Erin’s house.”

  Kelly absorbed the words. Then she eased inside the office and shut the door. “Do they know something?”

  “No.”

  “Then why come to you just to talk? Why aren’t they talking to Erin’s dad? She told me they promised her they’d tell him everything they found out.”

  My daughter’s smooth young cheek firmed. Apparently, she and Erin had talked in detail, and she felt protective of her friend.

  “I’m sure they will, Kelly. Does Erin have any reason to think they haven’t been telling everything?”

  She hesitated. “No.”

  “Then why the third degree? I’m just trying to get you a pizza.” I gave her a wan smile. />
  “Okay.” Mollified, she moved to leave.

  “Kelly. Let’s not make a big deal to Erin about these visits, okay? I don’t want to upset her.”

  She regarded me with a slight frown, then nodded. As she slipped through the door, pulling it closed, I wasn’t sure she fully believed me.

  I checked my watch, my thoughts skidding back to the unknowns this evening would present. It was almost seven o’clock. Jenna would be here within the hour. Maybe she’d arrive while Gerri and the detective were here. How awkward that would be—trying to explain to her what was going on in the midst of dealing with them. If only she were here already. Darkness crept toward Grove Landing like some giant tarantula, and there was still so much left to decide. The kids…telling Dave…should we flee the house tonight or take the chance and stay?

  We had to stay. Dave’s relatives weren’t leaving until tomorrow.

  My chest tightened at the thought of facing the night here, and the inexplicable calm I’d felt trickled away. I tried to fight the rising fear, reminding myself that Gerri was praying for me. Maybe somewhere within the cosmos, prayer did register in the ears of God.

  Think good thoughts, think good thoughts.

  I shifted in the chair, my eyes falling to my father’s combination printer-scanner-copier on the desk. And like a bolt of lightning a thought jagged through my head.

  Make a copy of the file.

  Whoa, wait a minute. Why on earth would I do that?

  The idea was crazy. I needed to get rid of the file. Its mere presence in this office had caused Lisa’s death. And because of that I never wanted to lay eyes on it again. Still, a part of me resisted handing it over to Detective Chetterling. Even if it couldn’t be used in a court of law, that file was proof. That file meant power. That file could draw out our elusive killer.

  Which is why I didn’t want it in my possession.

  I stared at the printer. Sounds from the television filtered across the great room and through the office door. The girls were watching music videos. Stephen, no doubt, still perched in front of the computer downstairs, either chatting with friends online or playing video games. Such kid things to do, in the midst of chaos.