by Becky Durfee
Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she called the familiar number she still had on speed dial. Dr. Patil’s receptionist answered after the second ring.
“Hi, Lisa, this is Jenny Larrabee. I was wondering if you could recommend any counselors in the area.” She swallowed and added, “I think I may have post-partum depression.”
“Where’s your baby?” Charles asked as they drove down the long rural road.
“With my mother.”
“It’s nice having the grandparents around, isn’t it?”
Jenny nodded emphatically. “Yes, it sure is. Although, I do have to ask for silence right now. I’m sorry; I don’t mean to be rude. I just need to concentrate so I can pick up on any signals Aiden might be trying to send.”
He ducked his head and covered his mouth, not saying another word.
Sadly, Jenny only had a slight indication from Aiden that she was in the right vicinity. She wasn’t feeling the distinct pull that she often felt near a site of significance, but rather a dull buzz that heightened her senses. Seeing a narrow, gravel side road that led off into the trees, she decided to take it, believing that may have been the path Aiden had traveled to keep his car hidden from the passing traffic.
Her internal excitement grew only slightly as she headed down the path, ultimately ending up at an iron barricade at the end of the gravel. The little road seemed to lead to nowhere, causing Jenny to wonder why it was even there.
Jenny turned the key, sitting back in the driver’s seat. “You can talk now,” she said with defeat. “I’m not getting anything worth mentioning.”
“This was a popular party spot,” Charles declared, a sinister grin splayed across his face, “even back when I was young.”
“I can see why,” she said. “You’d only get caught if someone was looking for you.”
“The cops often did,” he admitted with a slight chuckle.
“Well, since you’re familiar with the area, do you know of any stone walls around here?”
“No, I’m afraid I don’t.”
They emerged from the car, Jenny still not feeling enough of a tug to lead her in any specific direction. “It looked like Elaina’s body was found quite a ways back into the woods, according to the article I read. We may have quite a long day ahead of us.”
“The victim’s family has been waiting a lot longer.”
“Sadly, the victim’s family didn’t even know she was dead until a few days ago.”
Charles stopped in his tracks. “Are you kidding me?”
“I wish I was. She was an addict who’d been out of touch with her family for years.”
“That’s sad.”
“It is sad,” Jenny agreed. “In a strange way, I actually think Aiden may have done her a favor in this case. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past year and a half, it’s that there’s something fabulous on the other side. I imagine it was quite a step up from what the victim was dealing with here on earth.”
The two walked into the woods. Eventually, Charles asked, “Are you seeing what I’m seeing? There seems to be a path cleared out.”
Jenny nodded. “I am.”
A sickening thought popped into her head. This appeared to be a well-traveled path. Belinda had said that Aiden stayed out all night a few times. Her stomach tied in knots as she wondered just how many bodies they were going to find at the end of this trail.
She glanced up at Charles, who, based on the expression on his face, seemed to be having similar thoughts.
“Thanks again for coming with me,” she said cheerfully, trying to take his mind off of the task at hand.
“It’s the least I can do for that family, even if they didn’t know their loved one was gone until recently.”
“Her name was Heather,” Jenny said without contempt. “Heather Bowes. She was in her mid-forties and had kids that she hadn’t seen in years.”
“Wow,” he replied. “That’s crazy.”
“That’s what drugs will do to you.” Jenny immediately thought about the relief Aiden had felt on marijuana, adding, “Hard core drugs, anyway.”
After several more minutes of walking along the path, the reason behind it became clear. A shrine was set up, complete with a stone cross, fake flowers and some deflated balloons. Jenny immediately felt relief, noting, “I guess there’s no question where Elaina was found.”
Looking solemn, Charles replied, “I guess not.” Guilt appeared to consume him; his stepson had been the reason a memorial had been necessary, and a lot of people were clearly still hurt by it.
“So,” she said loudly and cheerfully, “it looks like this is the end of the path. I suppose now we just have to test our luck and choose a direction to go.”
“Did this particular incident happen before or after the student was killed?”
Jenny shrugged. “I don’t know. Nobody can say exactly when Heather went missing. Do you remember what day it was when Aiden came back covered in dirt?”
Charles shook his head. “It was a while ago, but I don’t know specifically.” He sighed and looked around. “What do you say…do you want to just continue straight?”
Jenny shrugged. “That sounds like as good of a plan as any.” As they trudged through the woods, she added, “We’re looking for an old stone wall and a tree that splits in half down by the roots. It’s V-shaped.”
Stopping for a moment, Charles pulled a bright orange piece of yarn out of his pocket, tying it around a tree branch.
Jenny immediately knew what he was doing. “Very clever,” she said. “If left to my own devices, I probably would have wandered around back here and not been able to find my way out.”
“I’m too old to rely on memory,” he replied. “I’d be out here for days.”
They continued to walk for a long time, denoting their path along the way, when Jenny finally spotted an old wall cutting through the woods in the distance. “Bingo,” she said. “At least this gives us something to go by.”
They walked to the wall, taking a seat on it to rest. Déjà vu hit Jenny all at once. She had rested here before, or at least nearby. Holding up her hand to signal she wanted Charles to remain quiet, she stood up, looking around for the distinctive tree. While she didn’t see it, she did mutter, “We’re close.”
She wasn’t sure which direction to head, but she knew to stay along the wall. Without saying anything else, she walked toward the right, checking the ground carefully with each step. Within a minute, she spotted the tree in the distance. “There,” she said, pointing. “It’s up there.”
Quickening her pace, she closed in on the location. Just as she was almost at the tree, something caught her eye.
Pink fabric.
Closing her eyes briefly, she recalled the image of Heather wandering around the parking lot of Hammond Park, wearing a pink short-sleeved shirt, the same shade as the fabric surfacing from under the ground. Looking up at Charles, she said, “I think it’s about time we involve the police.”
Officer Miller, the one who had belittled Jenny at the police station, was among the policemen at the scene. She felt a mix of validation and embarrassment upon seeing him, remembering that she had told him to go fuck himself, but taking pleasure in the notion the he now knew she was right. Regardless, he pretended not to know her as the officers did their work, and that arrangement was just fine with Jenny.
The level of decomposition of the body was bad, signaling she’d been out in the woods a long time. Jenny found it sad that her disappearance could go unnoticed for that long. At least now, Jenny thought, Heather could have a decent burial and be treated with some dignity. Although she may not have lived the most glamorous life here on earth, she certainly deserved better than this in death.
Jenny approached the first officer she saw that wasn’t Miller. “Excuse me,” she said softly, trying to speak quietly enough for Charles not to hear.
He turned to her expressionlessly.
“I know you may not believe me when I t
ell you this, but I was able to find this body because I’m a psychic.”
He didn’t flinch.
“I can assure you that this murder was committed by the same person who killed Elaina Maldonado.” She held up her hand, proactively warding off any snarky comment from the officer. “I know, killers don’t usually strike young Hispanic women and older Caucasian women, but this one did. He also was responsible for Timothy Reynold’s bludgeoning death in Hammond Park a few years ago, believe it or not.”
Jenny noticed he was not writing any of this down. She didn’t particularly care about that—it was the next part that was the most important.
“The thing is, he’s letting me know about his victims one at a time, and he may not be done yet. I have no idea how many people he ended up killing.” She looked around, fighting off a chill. “There may be a lot more bodies out here.”
“I assure you, we’ll look around the area, ma’am,” the officer said flatly.
Jenny had been dismissed and she knew it. Whatever, she thought. The truth would come about eventually.
She headed over to Charles, whose skin had a distinct shade of green to it. Seeing his discomfort made her realize just how far she had come—just over a year ago, she was the green person standing next to the calm, seasoned psychic, Susan. Now she was the unruffled one, just as Susan had told her she would be one day.
“How are you doing?” she asked. “You okay?”
He slid his hands into his pockets and looked at the ground. “Yeah, I’m okay. This is just upsetting—on a lot of levels.”
She put her hand on his shoulder. “I know. It’s hard enough to witness when you’re not emotionally invested. It’s got to be tough when it affects you personally.”
“Tough isn’t the word.” His phone rang from his jacket pocket. “Charles Littleton.”
After a series of acknowledgements on his end, Charles hung up the phone. He looked up at Jenny, his eyes even more solemn than they had been just a few moments ago. “The DNA test results came back from Wyoming. The killer is definitely related to Jason.” He sucked in a deep breath and added, “And the hits just keep on coming.”
Jenny winced. “Sorry about this.”
He shook his head. “You didn’t do anything to be sorry for.”
She wished she could see it that way. If it wasn’t for her, Charles would be living in blissful ignorance right now, although Seneca Lynch’s family would still be in Hell. Jenny wondered how much relief her family was experiencing out there in Wyoming. It had to be liberating to know who the killer was—and to know he was dead and wouldn’t hurt anyone else—but learning the truth wouldn’t bring Seneca back. With that taken into account, advances in the case could only bring a small consolation to the Lynch family, at best.
“Do you think this is over?” Charles asked sadly.
Jenny thought for a moment before answering, trying to mix honesty with tact. “I can’t say,” she eventually replied. “We’re at Aiden’s mercy, to some degree. Only he can truly let us know for sure.” Recognizing the value of productivity, she added, “We can look into it, though, and see if there are any more missing persons cases or unsolved murders that he might be associated with.”
He bobbed his head from side to side, showing that he was contemplating her words. “That might work. The only problem is that this woman’s family didn’t even know she was missing.” He gestured his thumb over his shoulder at the crime scene behind him. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m assuming there wasn’t a missing persons report on her.”
“There wasn’t,” Jenny confirmed solemnly.
“There might be others, then,” he said. “Others that we don’t even know about.”
Remembering the trip she never made, she said, “Apparently, one of the victims used to hang out behind a convenience store with a lot of the…locals, who I assume were among the ones who might not get reported missing. Maybe I can take a trip down there and see if anyone else has suddenly stopped showing up to their social gatherings.”
“You’re not planning to go there by yourself, are you?”
“No, I wouldn’t do that. I was going to go with my friend, Mick, but he might be busy over the next few days. I can bring my husband, though.”
“Just promise me you won’t go alone,” Charles replied.
“I promise. I won’t.”
“Good,” he added. “We don’t need any more victims in this case.”
Chapter 21
Armed with photographs of both Timothy Reynolds and Aiden, as well as the sketch of Heather Bowes, Jenny and Zack parked in the lot of the Stop n’ Go convenience store. “What a shithole,” Zack announced.
“Yeah, I’m kind of glad you’re with me,” Jenny admitted, although it did occur to her that, for some people, this was a way of life. While she got to go home after this and enjoy the safety and comfort of suburbia, others weren’t so lucky.
Keeping herself focused, she got out of the car and waited for Zack to walk around the back of the store with her. Butterflies danced around her stomach; she didn’t have the luxury of Rodriguez assuring her that the crowd she was about to approach was friendly. While she was grateful to have Zack by her side, he was one-hundred-sixty pounds soaking wet, and she wasn’t sure how effective he’d be at warding off threats.
They rounded the corner, finding four men sitting on the set of wooden steps that led down from the back entrance of the store. Each had a paper bag in hand, clearly designed to hide the alcohol inside. All of the men focused their attention on the couple as they approached, but none of them looked intimidating. They were just four guys who appeared down on their luck but sported smiles nonetheless.
“Hello there,” a man who appeared to be in his forties said. His denim jacket was tattered. “You all don’t look like you’re from around here.”
The other men laughed, but Jenny found their behavior to be friendly as opposed to diabolical.
“We’re not, actually,” Jenny said in return. “We’re just visiting.”
“This isn’t exactly a tourist hotspot,” another man said. With his unruly beard, he resembled a younger version of Timothy Reynolds.
“We’re on a mission,” she replied. “We’re just trying to make sure everybody is safe and accounted for.” She pulled the photograph of Timothy out of the stack, handing it to one of the men. “I’m under the impression that you knew this man.”
“Yeah,” the man said. “Tim. It’s a damn shame what happened to him.”
“Agreed,” Jenny replied, “but the good news is we know who did it now.”
The man raised an eyebrow at her. “You a cop?”
“Nope,” she said with a smile. “I’m just a justice seeker.”
“So who did it?” one of the other men asked.
“This guy.” Jenny handed Aiden’s picture to him. “Does he look familiar to you?”
He frowned and shook his head. “Can’t say I’ve ever seen him before.” He passed the picture along to the man sitting next to him, who also showed no signs of recognition. “Why’d he do it? Do you know?”
“He was mentally ill,” she explained. “He saw Timothy as a threat.”
“Tim wouldn’t have hurt nobody,” the man said.
Jenny nodded solemnly. “I realize that. Unfortunately, this guy’s mental illness clouded his judgment—more than once, I’m afraid. We have reason to believe he also murdered this woman.” Passing Heather’s picture along, she asked, “Did you know her?”
“Damn, that’s Sugar.”
“Sugar?”
“That’s what she goes by.” He squinted as he looked up at Jenny. “You mean she’s dead?”
“I’m sorry,” she replied, “but yes.”
“Damn,” he said again. “I knew she stopped coming around here, but I hoped she went back home.”
“Unfortunately, she fell victim to the same man that Timothy did. Again, I’m very sorry.”
“How many people did this guy
kill?” he asked.
“That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Jenny replied. “Do you know of anyone else who has suddenly stopped coming around?”
The men exchanged glances. “No,” one of them said, “not that I know of.”
Aiden’s picture made it to the third man in the group. “Hey, I know this guy,” he said excitedly. “He tried to attack me one night.”
Jenny looked at the man bewilderedly. “He did?” She focused on his eyes and cheek bones, the only part of his face that wasn’t covered by a scruffy beard. A wave of familiarity came over her. Closing her eyes, she took a few steps away from the men, trying to absorb the images being sent her way.
“Get off me, man,” the guy with the beard said. At the time, he was clean-shaven.
Oh, shit, Jenny thought. This one is fighting back, and it’s big. She had thought it was asleep, like the other had been.
It wasn’t.
Don’t let it kill you, the voice told her. You have to kill it first.
She lunged toward the being again, going for the throat. It pushed her off, knocking her to the ground. She attempted to get up, and the being gave her a swift kick to the ribs, knocking her back down again with such force that she ended up on her back.
“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” it asked, dishing out one more kick before walking away.
Jenny remained motionless on the ground for a long time, her ribs throbbing with pain. She had trouble breathing, but that was the least of her concerns. She had been defeated, and the being was going to get the others. This was the end for her. They were going to kill her.
Slowly, painfully, she rolled over onto her stomach and lifted herself to her hands and knees. Looking around, she noticed she was alone for now. They hadn’t come looking for her yet. She needed to get to the truck and get home before they found her.
