The Lost Girls of Johnson's Bayou

by Jana DeLeon

  John ran one hand through his hair, still clearly unnerved at the entire situation. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’m just a little out of my element here.”

  “We’re all a little out of our element,” Paul reassured him. “My work usually isn’t personal, so it’s different for me, too.”

  “What if I remember something?” Kathy asked. “I haven’t in all these years, but what if now things start to come back—things that might help you figure out what happened? How do I get in touch with you?”

  Paul pulled a card from his wallet and handed it to Kathy. “That has all my contact information, but just to be safe, don’t use your home phone, cell phone or computer to contact me. Use a workplace phone or a public internet connection.”

  “Is that really necessary?” John asked.

  “Probably not,” Paul replied, “but I don’t want to take any chances. If whoever is watching Ginny thinks this is a dead end, he’ll leave you alone.”

  At least, that’s what Paul hoped.

  THE MAN WATCHED AS Paul and Ginny pulled away from the woman’s house. How had they found her? The nurse promised him she hadn’t said a word. Had she lied? Or had they found someone else who knew how to find the woman? Did the woman remember anything when she saw them?

  He’d watched the woman over the years, as he’d watched Ginny. Neither had shown signs of remembering, so he’d left them alone to their new lives. He’d been altruistic, thinking himself a great man of mercy. But now, that decision was coming back to haunt him.

  If he’d killed the girls back then, it would have drawn attention from the police, but without any evidence, ultimately, the police would have blamed the missing headmistress for the crimes. Sixteen years was a long time for someone to wait to start killing again, and the police would definitely be able to make the connection between Ginny and the woman, especially now that they were both aware of each other’s existence.

  He knew the man, Paul Stanton, was lying about his real profession as a detective, but why had he lied? Had Ginny paid him to unravel the secrets of her memories? Or was the other woman really his sister, as he’d told the nurse?

  And what of Ginny’s mother? He’d been keeping a close watch on Madelaine, but the older woman showed no signs of being aware that her daughter was involved in anything outside of her normal routine and spending a little time with a vacationing stranger. Certainly, she hadn’t appeared worried, as he was certain she would have been if she’d known Ginny’s memory was returning. That was a good thing, he decided.

  The fewer people that were aware of what was going on, the lower the body count when it was all over.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Paul sank down on the couch in Ginny’s apartment, still unable to believe everything that had happened that day. Ginny seemed only slightly less dazed than he felt, and he heard her now, clinking glasses around in the kitchen. A couple of seconds later, she handed him a beer and slumped down on the couch next to him with a glass of wine.

  “I’m out of Scotch,” she said. “Tough week around here for Scotch.”

  Paul laughed. “It’s so surreal, you know?”

  “I feel like I’ve lived a year in the past twenty-four hours.”

  Paul stared at her, surprised that she’d so easily verbalized what he was feeling, and then comforted by the knowledge that someone else really got it. In all the time he’d imagined this moment, he’d never imagined sharing it with someone else. But now that he’d met Ginny, he couldn’t imagine it any other way. “That’s it exactly. When I think about everything that’s happened since I arrived here, it seems almost impossible that it’s all been in the span of a few days.”

  “Well, I guess in all fairness, it’s been building for sixteen years.”

  “True.”

  Ginny took a sip of wine, then looked over at him and smiled. “You found your sister.” She held up her wine glass and he clinked his beer against it, unable to control the grin that spread across his face.

  “I found my sister,” he said. A rush of emotion overwhelmed him—happiness at finally finding her, sadness at their lost childhood and everything she’d been through, and most of all, fear that the past wasn’t yet behind them.

  “How does it feel? I mean…you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to—”

  “It feels incredible! It’s like everything you can possibly feel is all happening at the same time.”

  Ginny nodded. “Overwhelming emotion. I can imagine, especially after all this time and given all the circumstances surrounding it.” She placed her hand on his. “I know today wasn’t exactly the reunion you were hoping for, but as soon as we figure all this out, you’ll be able to have the relationship with your sister that you want.”

  Paul placed his beer on the coffee table. “You always know the perfect thing to say—like you’ve known me forever.” He stroked her cheek with his hand. “You’re a special woman, Ginny. Like no one I’ve ever known before.”

  Her face tingled at his touch and a quivering began deep inside her. She knew he was going to kiss her and that she should prevent it, but no amount of logic was going to override her body’s desire for him. She longed to have his hands, his lips on her, making her whole.

  When his lips touched hers, the quivering that had begun at her center radiated out to every square inch of her body. Warmth followed, and as he deepened the kiss, their tongues dancing together, she thought her clothes would catch on fire from the heat of her skin. She wanted this man. Since meeting him, her entire life had changed—become fuller, more immediate. It was as if she hadn’t really started to live until this week…until Paul Stanton.

  “I want you, Ginny,” he whispered.

  “Yes,” she said and wrapped her arms around him.

  He surprised her by lifting her completely off the couch and carrying her into the bedroom. She thought he’d place her on the bed, but instead he lowered her beside it and kissed her again as they stood, their bodies pressed together. He ran his hands down her sides to catch the hem of her shirt, then pulled it over her head in one fluid motion.

  She surprised herself by returning the favor as he unsnapped her bra and let it drop to the floor. He pulled her in close to him and kissed her again, and the feel of his skin on hers sent another rush of heat through her body. With total abandon, Ginny unbuttoned her jeans and stepped out of them. She wanted him, and no amount of common sense was about to interfere with what her body had already set in motion.

  Paul removed his jeans, his eyes doing a slow scan of her body from head to toe. She was surprised to find that she didn’t feel the least bit self-conscious. The desire was so clear in his expression that it made her feel sexy and powerful. She reached into the nightstand and pulled out protection. There was rarely opportunity to use any, but Ginny believed in being prepared for anything, even a long shot like Paul Stanton.

  He rolled on the protection then lay on the bed and pulled her down beside him. His hand ran down her shoulders and across her breasts, and she closed her eyes, savoring every touch.

  “You are so beautiful. I want to explore every inch of you,” he whispered.

  Ginny felt the fire flame inside her at his words and knew she wouldn’t last long enough for an exploration. “Not this time,” she said. “I want you now. You can explore on round two.”

  His eyes widened and she felt him stiffen even more against her thigh. He kissed her again, then whispered, “Whatever the lady wants.”

  He moved on top of her and she opened herself to him, her body aching for him to enter. When he pushed slowly into her, she gasped and clutched his back. He moaned and lowered his head to kiss her again as he started the rhythmic movement that soon sent both of them over the edge.

  Her body exploded with sensation as they climaxed and she cried out, digging her nails into the tender skin on his back. He thrust into her one last time, and then was still. He remained motionless above her for a couple of seconds and she wrapped her
arms around him, enjoying the heavy weight of him on top of her, then he slid to the side and gathered her in his arms.

  He kissed her softly and, despite having just been sent over the edge in the most spectacular fashion ever, her body still tingled as he kissed her, touched her. Ginny smiled and ran her hands down his bare backside, glad it was fairly early in the night.

  Clearly, they weren’t yet done.

  She hid under the bed in the older girl’s room when the lady came to gather them. Even though the lady had always been nice, she scared Ginny, but not as much as the man. She’d been at the house only two days, and so far, she’d been treated well, but Ginny knew something wasn’t right. With the lady or the man.

  The lady’s words were kind, but there was an edge to her voice that belied her feelings. The man only smiled. Always smiling. But the smile gave Ginny the chills.

  As soon as the lady left, Ginny snuck out the bedroom window and climbed down the trellis. The man was there, too, gathering the girls and taking them downstairs. Ginny didn’t know what would happen downstairs, but she didn’t want to be there. Not with the man.

  She stepped off the trellis behind a bush with pretty pink flowers and peered between the leaves to make sure the backyard was empty. Of all the places she’d seen at the house, Ginny liked the backyard the best so far. It had stone walkways and benches hidden by giant bushes with sweet-smelling flowers.

  That afternoon in the backyard, Ginny pretended that she’d been whisked off to a land far away, where fairies sprinkled magic dust on the flowers to make them smell good. Ginny was a princess and everyone in the kingdom adored her. The fairy kingdom didn’t have a wicked witch or a bad man. Not like the house.

  The night air seemed to still as she stepped out of her hiding place and scurried for the stone path that led to the other side of the yard where the fountain awaited. It was a hot night, and Ginny already anticipated how the cool water of the fountain would feel on her bare feet. She’d just reached the end of the path when something flashed in the corner of her eye.

  She turned toward the house and saw flickering light in a tiny decorative window of one of the downstairs rooms. The light jumped and danced on the other side of the sheer curtain and seemed to call to Ginny to step closer. Entranced by the dancing firelight, Ginny crept up to the house and pulled a brick over from the landscaping in front of the window. Standing on her tiptoes on top of the brick, Ginny could just peer over the window ledge and into the room.

  The candles that created the dancing light didn’t look magical in the room surrounding the girls. Ginny tensed as the bad man stepped into the room then gasped as he grabbed one of the girls from the circle of candlelight and held her down on the table. The bad man wore a black robe and a mask, but Ginny still knew it was him. When he raised his hand over his head, she saw the flash of metal from a knife.

  She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out. A trickle of warm liquid ran down her leg and onto her bare foot. The other girls screamed and began to run, knocking the candles over in their panic. The bad man pushed the girl off the table and ran through the door with the woman. The door closed behind the girls and they pounded on it, but it didn’t budge.

  The rug went up in flames and the red wallpaper began to peel from the walls, making it look as if the walls were bleeding. The door was locked. There was no other window save the tiny one that Ginny looked through. The girls were trapped.

  There was a shout to her left and as she spun around, she lost her balance and fell off the brick, slamming into the cold, hard dirt. She sprang up from the ground and ran through the garden to the swamp. She heard shouting behind her, but she didn’t stop to listen. She just ran, the thorns and branches tearing at her bare skin.

  The screams of the girls reverberated in her mind, driving her forward in a frenzy. It was as if she believed that she could outrun their cries.

  GINNY WAKENED SCREAMING, her arms flailing against the man who was attacking her. Her heart pounded and her mind yelled that it was all over for her—that the end had come.

  “Ginny!” Paul’s voice sounded beyond the screams and she focused on it, allowing the screams to fade away. Finally, she saw him in front of her, both hands on her shoulders, shaking them, his fear evident.

  “Paul. Oh, my God!” Ginny threw her arms around him, and he hugged her close until her fear subsided enough for her to talk.

  “Must have been one heck of a nightmare,” Paul said.

  Ginny released him and leaned back so that she could see his face. “It was horrible.” She recounted what she’d dreamed to Paul, but no matter how vivid or concise the words she chose, they seemed trite in comparison to the horror she’d seen.

  “Do you think it was my memory? Or was it all a bad dream?”

  Paul shook his head. “I wish I knew. Did you recognize the man from the dream?”

  Ginny’s mind flashed back to the dream, as if rolling a film in reverse. “No.” She frowned. “In my dream, I know he’s bad, but I don’t see his face. My mind can’t focus in on the features. Why is that?”

  “Maybe because it was so horrific you blocked out the details. Maybe because it didn’t really happen so you couldn’t imagine some details with clarity.”

  “The girls did die in that room. That one with the little window.”

  “Yes, but you already knew that. That fact could have filtered into your dream, along with a bad man with a butcher knife.”

  “My attacker last night,” Ginny said. “You think my mind could have taken all those details and created a nightmare combining them all. So it wasn’t real.”

  “We don’t know that for sure, but I promise you, we’re going to find out.”

  Ginny nodded and lay back down in bed. Paul lay next to her, his arm wrapped protectively around her. Her body relaxed as the heat from his body warmed hers, but her mind whirled with unanswered questions, unanswered horrors.

  PAUL SAT ON HIS REGULAR STOOL in the corner of the café, eating a truly fabulous cinnamon roll and watching Ginny as she tallied receipts from the day before. It was early, but this morning the café was empty, awaiting the arrival of Saul Pritchard to get started with the painting. Madelaine had initially wanted to put off her remodeling plans, but Paul pressed her to go ahead with them. It would give him an opportunity to observe Pritchard without drawing attention to the fact.

  Ginny’s brow scrunched in concentration as she tapped the keys on the adding machine. She’d lain awake for hours last night after her dream, finally drifting off just an hour before the alarm sounded, startling them out of sleep. He’d waited until her breathing was rhythmic and deep before finally allowing himself to slip into slumber with her. The skin around her eyes was darker than the rest, the result of two nights of troubled and lost sleep, but this morning, she’d popped right out of bed when the alarm sounded and gone through her morning routine as if nothing had happened.

  Including nothing between them.

  Before the nightmare, their night together had been nothing short of incredible for Paul, and he’d thought she felt the same way. But once the morning light crept into her tiny apartment, it was as if a gate slowly closed on the passionate woman from the night before. She was pleasant, as always, but any sign of intimacy was gone. Paul hoped she didn’t regret what had happened between them, and at first opportunity, he was going to talk to her about it. The last thing he wanted to do was add to Ginny’s worries.

  He briefly wondered if she thought he’d spent the night with her only because he was riding on the high of finding his sister, and he hoped that wasn’t the case. He was drawn to Ginny in a way he’d never been with any other woman. All his adult life he felt he’d been searching for something besides his sister. With Ginny, he felt as if he’d found that missing piece of himself.

  Madelaine hurried into the café from the kitchen with two big cardboard boxes and placed them on a table. “Do you mind helping me?” she asked Paul. “I need to get all the stuff of
f the tables so Saul can cover them for the painting. I should have done it last night.”

  “Of course.” Paul hopped off his stool and grabbed a box. “Things have been a little crazy around here, but they’re going to get better.”

  Madelaine gave him a quick hug. “You don’t know how happy I was when Ginny told me you’d found your sister. And that she remembers you, even a little. It’s a miracle.”

  Paul smiled and started removing napkin holders and salt and pepper shakers from the table and placing them in the box. “I agree. It’s all been a little overwhelming. I’ve looked for so long, and then it’s like it hit me all at once.”

  Madelaine nodded. “I have to believe good things are coming for us all. We just need the dust to settle a bit.” There was a knock at the café door and Madelaine glanced at the clock and frowned. Saul wasn’t due for another ten minutes, but with the shades drawn, they couldn’t see who was standing outside.

  Madelaine unlocked the door and opened it to find Mayor Daigle standing outside. She waved him inside, and he gave everyone a big smile before his gaze came to rest on Ginny.

  “I just heard about what happened to you night before last,” he said. “I am so sorry to hear it and came by first thing to see if there was anything I could do.”

  “Thank you,” Ginny said, “but I’m fine. I was just shaken up a bit.”

  “Of course you were! I called Sheriff Blackwell as soon as I heard this morning. Got him right out of bed, I did. I cannot believe something like this happened in Johnson’s Bayou and he didn’t tell me. I have a duty to this community and its people, I told him.” The mayor looked righteously indignant.

  Madelaine coughed and Paul could tell she was holding in a smile. “No use getting in a dander over it,” Ginny said. “Likely Sheriff Blackwell was thinking it was his duty to keep his trap shut about an ongoing investigation.”