by Jana DeLeon
“Excellent timing,” Madelaine said as she walked to the front door to let him in.
Paul stepped through the door into the café and gave Madelaine a big smile. Madelaine scowled and said, “I want you two to tell me everything you’ve been up to. And you’re going to start.”
She pointed her finger at Paul, who now stared at her with a deer-in-the-headlights expression. “Who are you, really? What do you want with my daughter? And what happened to those girls at that school?”
Chapter Thirteen
Paul stared at Madelaine, at a complete loss for words. He looked over at Ginny, who stood frozen at the counter and wondered what in the world had happened to set her mother off. “Did I miss something?” he asked.
Ginny nodded. “Yeah. You need to look at this.” She explained the stack of valances on the counter and pointed to the note she’d found inside the hem.
Paul felt his blood go cold as he read the words. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t up-front with you,” he said to Madelaine, “but Ginny and I didn’t want to worry you, especially because we don’t really know anything concrete yet.”
“About what happened to those girls?” Madelaine asked.
“Yes,” Paul replied. “That’s part of it, but there’s a lot more. Maybe we should all sit. This is going to take a while.”
Madelaine slid into a chair at one of the tables and Paul and Ginny took a seat across from her.
Paul handed her her blood pressure medicine. “Maybe you should take that first.”
Madelaine narrowed her eyes at him and downed a pill with her tea. He could tell she was still put out, but maybe by the time he’d finished explaining everything to her, she’d understand why Ginny had been less than honest.
He started at the beginning with his real reason for coming to Johnson’s Bayou. Madelaine listened in rapt and sometimes shocked attention as he covered finding Ginny, their visit to the house, Ginny’s recent feelings of being watched and her suspicions that someone had been in her apartment. Then he told her about the shooter from the night they visited the old school and his suspicions about Ginny’s attacker the night before.
The color vanished from Madelaine’s face as he talked. “I can’t believe someone tried to kill you—twice,” Madelaine said, her voice almost hoarse. “And you didn’t tell me.”
“Oh, Momma,” Ginny said, “the last thing I wanted was to put you in danger. You know if the situation was reversed you would have done the same thing.”
Madelaine wasn’t quite convinced, but she didn’t argue. “Are you starting to remember?” she asked Ginny.
Ginny nodded. “I think so, but it’s more of a feeling than a memory. Sometimes, I feel like someone’s watching or someone’s in danger, but the fear is almost like that of a child afraid of monsters, not an adult afraid of a predator. I know that sounds odd. Every once and a while, I look at something and just for a millisecond, I have this flash like I’m going to remember and then it’s gone.”
Madelaine looked at Paul. “Do you think she’s going to remember?”
“I think she’ll eventually remember something or feel a familiarity when seeing certain people or things that weren’t there before. It’s hard to say if any of that will ever become clear.”
Madelaine reached across the table and took Ginny’s hand in hers. “I wish you would have talked to me about all this, but I understand why you didn’t. You’re a good girl, Ginny, and the best daughter anyone could ask for. I know you need to do this, but I need you to come out of it alive. For me. I’m just gonna be selfish and say it. So if it comes down to those girls resting in peace or you being alive, you know where my vote lies.”
Ginny brushed at the tears on her cheek with her free hand. “We were being careful. As careful as we could be, but it didn’t stop him from coming after me. This was bound to happen when I started remembering. He started after me right after I started to remember.”
Madelaine stared at her. “You’re saying he’s been stalking you for what—months, years? And we’ve never noticed? How can that be?”
Ginny glanced at Paul and said, “I don’t think he had to stalk me.”
Madelaine looked confused for a moment, as if she was waiting for Ginny to finish her thought, then it dawned on her exactly what Ginny was saying. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth. “It’s someone we know. That’s what you’re telling me. That someone you’ve probably served coffee every week of your life is trying to kill you.”
“He must have been watching closely and noticed a change when I started having those flashes,” Ginny said. “My going to look at the school just reinforced what he was already thinking. I’m lucky Paul was here when it started, otherwise, I don’t know how things would have turned out. I had no idea the magnitude of what I was stepping into.”
“Neither did I,” Paul said to Madelaine. “I swear to you, I had no idea of all the trouble my investigation or Ginny’s remembering would cause. Someone has been hiding a dark secret for a long time, and even though we have no idea what the secret is or who’s hiding it, we’ve made ourselves targets.”
“So that’s it?” Madelaine said, a bit of an edge to her voice. “You just intend to walk around with targets on your back?”
“Absolutely not,” Paul said. “I intend to find out what happened sixteen years ago. Ginny will never be safe until it’s all exposed.”
“I want to know what you’re doing every second of this.” Madelaine gave Paul a look that clearly said no arguing was allowed. “I’m an old woman and not fit for running from shooters, but I expect to know everything you two are doing. I need to know when to send backup. You can’t continue this without a backup plan.”
“I agree,” Paul said. “The stakes have increased dramatically, and it will make me feel better knowing someone I trust knows what we’re doing and when to call for help. I can’t tell you what that means yet, though. First, we have to determine our next step.”
“First,” Ginny said, “in addition to the security system Paul’s getting for us, I want to change the locks on my apartment. Every time the café is empty, someone has the opportunity to get in there. I know locks won’t keep people out if they really want in, but it will make it a lot harder to get in without exposing himself.”
Madelaine narrowed her eyes at Ginny. “You think Saul took my key when he was building those countertops? That’s why you asked about him earlier. Is the key to your apartment still in my desk drawer?”
“Yes, along with a key to your house, but he had plenty of time to copy them and put them back.”
Madelaine’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think—”
“Of course not,” Ginny interrupted. “Why would you?”
“So you think it’s Saul? Is he the one?” Madelaine asked.
“We don’t know,” Paul said. “It could have been him, or someone could have dropped by to talk to him and he let them in. There’s really no way to know for certain without asking, and I don’t want to alert him. I’m going to be watching him closely, though, especially as he’ll be here painting.”
Madelaine shook her head. “This is so much more complicated than I imagined. You’re right. Anyone in town could have stopped by and he’d have let them right in. There could be any number of keys out there by now.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Paul said. “I’ll visit the hardware store and pick up a new lock. The hardware comes with two keys, so that way no one else will get a chance to touch them but me and the two of you. And while I’m at the hardware store, I’ll make sure everyone there knows I’m changing out the locks here so that bit of information can work its way around town. With any luck, it will filter to your attacker so he’ll know that avenue is closed or at least infinitely more difficult to disguise.”
“Why would people gossip about my changing the lock on my apartment?” Ginny asked. “This is a small town, but really, more is going on than that.”
Madelaine laughed.
“They won’t care about you changing your lock, but they’ll certainly talk about a handsome, young stranger doing it for you, especially after he rescued you last night.” She gave Paul an approving nod. “You’re a sharp young man.”
Paul sighed. “I wish that were true. If I were sharper, perhaps I’d find my sister.”
Madelaine’s expression grew sad. “You’re sure Ginny’s not your sister, right?”
“She has the wrong eye color.”
“But you think your sister was at the school?”
“Yes. I think that’s where Ginny got the design she uses for her jewelry. My sister drew it on everything.”
Madelaine’s eyes widened. “Oh! What about the other girl? The one who the firefighters pulled out alive?”
“So far, I haven’t been able to locate her. My partner tracked her to the hospital in New Orleans, but I talked to some of the people who cared for her back then. That’s where I was yesterday—why I wasn’t here protecting Ginny. But it was a dead end. No one knows where the girl went after she was released from the hospital.”
“I do.” Madelaine rose from the booth, an excited look on her face. “Or at least, I know someone who probably will. Give me a minute.”
Madelaine ran into the kitchen, and a couple of seconds later they heard her talking on the phone. Her voice was high-pitched and had an excited tone, but they couldn’t make out exactly what she was saying. Paul tried not to get his hopes up, but it was impossible. If Madelaine had another lead for him to follow, it might be the break he’d been looking for.
Several agonizing minutes later, she ran back into the café, her face flushed with excitement. She handed Paul a piece of paper with a name on it. “That’s her,” Madelaine said. “I had a friend who worked at the rehab center where she went after the hospital discharged her. She called me as soon as the girl arrived to ask about the school and the fire. She was trying to put together what had created her condition, hoping that would give her some insight into designing therapy for her.”
“And she’s still there?”
“No. She was in a coma for quite a long time in the hospital, but after her burns healed, she just woke up one day. After that, they sent her to rehab, which is when my friend got her. They had to retrain her on how to read and write, and my friend said she couldn’t remember a thing about her life before the fire. Once she was ready for a normal life, they petitioned the court for a name and she went to live with a foster family.”
Madelaine pointed to the paper. “That’s the name she chose. Of course, that was years ago and there’s a good chance she’s married now, but I figure you could find that out, right?”
Paul stared at the name on the paper. Kathy Stevens. His heart leapt when he read the name. Kathy. Could she have forgotten everything but her first name?
“I’ll call this in to my partner and have him start searching immediately.” He looked over at Madelaine. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
Madelaine’s eyes teared up and she waved a hand in dismissal. “Don’t thank me yet. Thank me if we find out it’s your sister.”
Paul pulled out his phone and called Mike. He’d probably wake him up at this hour of the morning, but it was worth it. Once his sleepy partner answered, he rattled off the name then disconnected the call, trying to keep his excitement to a minimum by folding valances.
He didn’t have to wait long. Ten minutes later, Mike called back. He’d found Kathy Stevens.
PAUL LOOKED ANXIOUSLY at Ginny, took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. Ginny reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I know I said I wasn’t going to get my hopes up, but I lied.”
“It would be impossible not to be hopeful,” Ginny said. “It’s a long shot, but the chance is still there. You’ll never know, though, if you don’t ring the doorbell.”
Paul nodded. “You’re right.” He reached his free hand up and rang the doorbell.
They heard footsteps inside and a couple of seconds later, a pretty woman with her long brown hair pulled into a ponytail opened the door. She smiled at them and asked, “Can I help you?”
Paul felt his knees weaken. It was her. Older, more mature, but there was no mistaking his sister’s face. Concentrate. Don’t scare her. “Are you Kathy Stevens?”
“Yes, but it’s Kathy Landry now.” The woman looked back and forth expectantly from Paul to Ginny. “Is something wrong?”
She doesn’t remember me. Paul struggled to control the wave of disappointment that coursed through him. Ginny squeezed his hand and he tried to focus. “My name is Paul Stanton. Does that mean anything to you?”
Kathy frowned. “No…no, I don’t think so. Should it?”
This is wrong. Just say you made a mistake and leave her to her life. Clearly she’s moved on and isn’t hurting about the past. Dredging it up will only cause her pain. “My mistake,” Paul said, his voice shaky. “I thought you were someone else.” He glanced over at Ginny, whose face fell at his declaration. “Let’s go.”
He started to turn when Kathy grabbed the sleeve of his shirt. “Wait!” She stared at him for several seconds, her eyes narrowed on his face. Her expression was puzzled, as if she were trying to put the pieces together. Then she gasped and a flush rushed up her neck and over her face. She put both hands up to cover her mouth. “Oh, my God. I remember. Paul…you’re Paul.”
Kathy looked back into the house and yelled, “John! Come here quick!”
A fit, handsome man hurried up beside her, a worried look on his face. “What’s wrong? Are these people bothering you?”
“No,” Kathy began to cry and pointed to Paul. “This is my brother. I remember him. I have a brother.” She stepped forward and placed her arms around Paul’s neck. Paul glanced at her bewildered husband, then hugged her back as she began to sob, unable to hold back his own tears.
It took several minutes to stop the hugging and crying long enough to explain the basics to Kathy’s husband, but Ginny took the lead and filled in the gaps. John’s expression went from confused to shocked to overwhelmed in a matter of seconds, and he ushered all of them inside to the living room to sit. He took a seat on the couch next to his wife and put his arm around her.
“I can’t believe it,” he said and gave his wife a squeeze. “Kathy never remembered anything about the past except her first name. We didn’t even know she had a brother, and now, for you to be here…I’m sorry, I’m rambling. I don’t even know what to say.”
“It’s a miracle,” Kathy said and brushed the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I’d given up trying to remember a long time ago. I figured if no one was looking for me, then there wasn’t much of importance to recall, so I just moved on. As if my life began on the day I left the hospital.”
Ginny sniffed and Paul instantly realized that what Kathy had just described was Ginny’s life, too. They’d had parallel experiences starting with the same tragedy. He took Ginny’s hand in his own and looked over at her, hoping to convey his understanding with a look. She gave him a small smile.
“I still can’t believe it,” Kathy said. “All these years. What happened? How did you find me? Oh, my…I have so many questions. I don’t know where to start.”
Paul recounted their childhood to Kathy, who cried again over their parents’ deaths and was suitably horrified by the actions of child protective services. She asked a lot of questions that Paul could answer about their life with their parents and even more that he couldn’t answer about what happened afterward.
“You have no memory of the time before you left the hospital?” Paul asked.
“Not really. I mean, I know I was at the school and rescued from the fire. Sometimes I get flashes of memory—like seconds in time—but vivid, like a movie. I think it’s during the time I was at the school. It was an old, huge house with cypress trees surrounding it. I remember sewing and playing in a huge yard with other girls. But nothing concrete. Just snippets.”
Kathy shook her head. “When
I first saw you, nothing registered, but then when you were about to leave, something hit me and suddenly I knew. I can’t remember a single thing about our childhood, but I knew with certainty that you were my brother.”
Kathy looked over at Ginny. “I’m sorry, we’ve just been going on and on. Are you Paul’s wife?”
“No,” Ginny said. “I just met Paul this week when he came to Johnson’s Bayou looking for you. I…I’m like you. I don’t know my past. I appeared in Johnson’s Bayou the day after the fire at the school, but like you, no one ever came looking for me.”
“Oh, honey,” Kathy said, “I am so sorry. Is there anything we can do? Surely, if Paul found me, he can get answers for you.”
“I’m going to get answers for Ginny,” Paul assured her. “I knew I was going to help her once I heard her story, but now, it’s become even more critical.”
Kathy and John frowned. “What’s wrong?” Kathy asked. “Are you sick?”
“No,” Paul answered, “but I think she’s in danger. She’s started to remember—flashes of memory like you describe—but nothing concrete. Unfortunately, someone has been paying close attention to Ginny and noticed that she changed when the flashes began. I think the fire at the LeBlanc School was intentional—that those girls were all murdered. Whoever has kept it hidden all these years is threatened by Ginny’s returning memories. There have already been two attempts on her life.”
John jumped up from the couch, his face flushed with red. “And you came here? You knowingly exposed us to danger? What’s wrong with you?”
Paul shook his head, not blaming the other man in the least for his anger. “You were already in danger. I’m sure whoever is watching Ginny has always known where Kathy was. He’s probably kept a close eye on her all these years.”
“But before now, he had no reason to assume she knew anything.”
“And he still doesn’t,” Paul said. “He doesn’t know you’re my sister, and even if he finds out we came here today, he has no reason to believe you could recall anything at all. When I leave here today, I won’t contact you or return until this whole thing is settled. Okay?”
