by Jill Cooper
I reached both my hands behind me to grab something—his hair, his skin, his ears. Anything. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Did I fall asleep? Was this all a bad dream?
Jarred against the lockers, I strained against his hold as all hope of this being a dream faded away. My nose crunched so bad it hurt. I took a punch to the back of the head and then when he released me, I fell to the ground. Braced on my hands, I landed hard on my knees and gasped for several breaths.
My chest burned and my pulse raced as I gasped in fresh oxygen. I tried to gaze back at my attacker, but he stepped on my back and forced me down hard to the vinyl floor. I couldn’t move and something pressed up against my head.
Dear God, I think it’s a gun. I’m pretty sure it was.
What the hell had I gotten myself into?
“Leave it alone,” he whispered, but it was low and guttural. It scared me with how angry he sounded and my skin quaked with fear. “You got me? Don’t you get up.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and nodded. His foot left the small back of my body, but still I laid there. Still I quaked against the floor until I felt the coast was clear. Then I sobbed, rolling over.
The folder was gone. He took everything from me.
Which meant only one thing. I had to get the flash drive back from Jay. He didn’t know what was on it. I thought it was safe with him, just as I thought the print copies were safe with me at the hospital. What a fool I was.
Well, no more. This thing with Sylvia was going to end. Tomorrow, everything was going to come out and then, finally then, it would be over.
Chapter 8
Clyde
They worked hours into the night and before long, the high school was jammed with people. Mostly the elderly who were too frail to ride out the storm.
Clyde made sure they had blankets and steaming mugs of soup to keep them warm. Communication from the station came in now and then.
Roads had gone from sketchy to bad. Soon travel wouldn’t be safe.
Clyde rounded the people sitting on cots. He had to step over some kids playing cards on the floor. With swagger and his hands on his hips, he headed toward the entryway.
Sammy poured water into an industrial-sized coffee machine.
“Any word on that last bus?” Clyde asked her.
Water sloshed as she turned her head but kept pouring. “It should’ve been here by now. Word is there’s an accident on Schweitzer. Have to stay clear of that.” Pushing the button on the machine, Sammy screwed the lid on the coffee butler beside it. “Want a refresh?”
Clyde shook his head. “I’ll walk through the front. See if I can make heads or tails of what’s going on there.”
Sammy touched his hand as he tried to stroll past. “You can’t control what’s happening out there. What happens, happens. We’re doing the best we can.”
But was it good enough? Clyde didn’t think so.
“I’m just going to look. I’ve never been very good at sitting on my hands.” Clyde strolled through the doors and made double time toward the front. His stomach was a bundle of nerves that had nothing to do with the storm. Terri hadn’t returned his calls and she hadn’t shown up at the high school. He never got a chance to tell her to head over.
But why would she? Terri was doing a bang up job avoiding him two times over. If she knew he was here, she’d never show. It was the God’s honest truth. Divided like a cavern separated them, it stung Clyde at how bad things had gotten. It wasn’t like he wanted their son to die.
So why was she punishing him every chance she got?
Clyde’s sigh turned to one of relief. He reached the entrance of the school as the doors were pushed open by two police officers. A parade of elderly in wheel chairs and some walking with assistance made their way in.
They made it. Thank God. So why didn’t he feel any better.
Jim Franklin, one of the town’s most trusted officers, nodded at Clyde in greeting. “Storm treating you alright there, Clyde?”
Clyde shrugged. “Best as can be expected. Glad you made it in. We were getting worried.”
Jim laughed. “Anything for a donut and a hot cup of coffee, right? How about you? All of yours present and accounted for?”
Clyde wished he could say yes, but the flicker on his face must have showed because Jim’s jovial smiled turned to a heavyset frown. “Well, Terri is a survivalist, right? She could take on Bear Grylls, she once said. I bet she’s just hunkering down to ride this one out.”
“Yeah,” Clyde said, but even he knew it wasn’t very convincing. “I might give her a call anyway.”
“You guys okay? Joan told me she stormed out of the coffee shop last week. I thought that place was neutral ground for you two.”
Clyde gave a halfhearted grin. “Brewed or instant, I guess we could never agree on that.” He slapped Jim on the back and started his walk back to the school gymnasium.
Why not, what else was he going to do? Call Terri, sure, but what was he going to say? Apologize for the endless calls and stalking?
“Clyde!”
He turned as his name was called and his boots squeaked across the floor. Covered in a drift of snow on his jacket and his hat, Jay was a sight to be seen. Nice kid, worked down at the local Litehouse factory in the research department. “Hey, Jay.”
Clyde offered his hand and Jay shook it with warm regard. “Has Karen stopped in here? She’s not answering her phone. I checked our—her—apartment and there’s no sign of her yet. She was supposed to get off work a few hours ago.”
So Jay had moved out. Clyde was sad for another loss. Another life torn apart because of what happened, but he didn’t hold Karen responsible. Sometimes what happened just happened. Sammy was right about that.
“Wish I could help you, Jay, but I haven’t seen her. We can sweep the area again if it’d make you happy. You really shouldn’t be out on the roads. C’mon, I’ll show you where the refreshments are.”
“Thanks,” Jay said. He fell in line and followed Clyde to the gymnasium. “I know it was stupid to go out, but she left me this garbled voicemail that didn’t make any sense—,” as he said that, his phone rang. Jay excused himself and pulled his phone free. “It’s her.”
Clyde slapped him on the arm and continued on. The conversation was sure to be private and he wasn’t one to pry.
“Karen,” Jay’s voice rose with worry, “Where—the hospital? Okay… What? What? You were attacked?”
Private or not, Clyde froze in his tracks and spun. He didn’t want to stare, but Jay had gone pale as a ghost and there was a stutter to his voice that the normally confident boy just didn’t usually have.
“Slow down. Please. I don’t understand… Sure, I can bring it, but I… Karen, you’re going to have to explain this better when I get there. Do you understand? Karen!”
Jay sighed and stared at the phone. “We were cut off or she hung up on me. I…” His voice trailed off and he shook his head.
Clyde strolled back over to him. “She was attacked in the hospital?”
“It seems that way.” Jay’s hands were shaking as he put his phone away. “She wasn’t very clear, but something happened in the locker room. She’s scared, Clyde. She sounds a mess. Karen…always said something like this might happen.”
Clyde’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? Is someone threatening Karen?”
Jay shrugged and Clyde got the impression he wasn’t being told the full truth. Why would Jay confide in him? They weren’t exactly friends. “Not exactly but she’s been…afraid, for a long time. I always told her she was paranoid. She could never let go of the guilt….”
He froze and stared at Clyde as if he had forgotten who he was talking to. Jay backed off, hands in the air. “Sorry, man. Just sorry. It’s not your burden to bear. You’ve had enough.”
Was he saying that whatever happened to Karen involved him? Involved Terri? That was ridiculous… A mistake, a medical blunder or an act of God, somehow none of that could put
Karen in danger.
Unless Clyde didn’t know the whole truth.
Suddenly he really wanted to speak to Karen.
He chased Jay down at the front entrance, but as he slipped past the doors, Jim stepped up with his hands up. Clyde wasn’t able to sidestep him. “I need to catch up with Jay,” but his voice hushed when he saw the look on Jim’s face.
Police face. He had something to say.
Was it Terri?
“Jim, if you’re not going to…”
“No one can reach, Terri. Okay? As far as we know, she wasn’t home when it happened, but….” Jim sighed. “We’re trying to get the situation under control first, so don’t go jumping to conclusions, Clyde.”
Conclusions? His heart was in his throat. “What are you trying to say?”
“Your house,” Jim sighed and he broke eye contact. “It’s on fire.”
Clyde’s stomach sank and he shrugged Jim off and made a break for it. He ran out of the school straight into the parking lot. Wind was fierce and the wall of white came down fast in giant flakes plastered together. Even as he squinted his eyes to gaze past the blowing evergreens, Clyde saw the shots of red flame firing up into the air.
Burning. Racing out of control.
His breath staggered fast, Clyde’s fingers turned to ice as he fumbled with the phone. Terri wasn’t home, of course she wasn’t. But where else would she be…have to call…have to call her.
Couldn’t think. Couldn’t even see anymore as Clyde put the phone to his ear. It rang and his mind jumped to a million places at once.
That time when the pregnancy stick lit up pink.
Their first hunting trip together as man and wife.
When he fumbled their first date and he ordered her fish instead of her favorite tacos. How they cheered for their favorite team together.
Where had that gone? Where?
“Terri,” Clyde eeked out with emotion sopping out between the grit of his teeth.
Silence, but she was there. He knew she was. He heard her pick up the phone.
He sighed and closed his eyes. “Just tell me you’re okay. Tell me you’re not home. Yell at me, for goodness sakes, just say something.”
Nothing. Not even a breath. Not even the simplest of phrases. Terri couldn’t even bring herself to curse at him anymore.
But the call faded after an audible click. One minute and four seconds. That was all it had lasted and Clyde felt like the last of Terri…what made Terri his wife faded along with it.
She might not have been home. She might still be alive out there somewhere, but what made Terri who she was? The night Bobby died Terri might as well have died right along with him.
Chapter 9
Terri
The accident was easier to manipulate than I’d planned. Riding the snowmobile away from its hiding spot, I couldn’t remember feeling more purposeful. Slamming that semi into the guardrail hadn’t been easy, but I’d done it.
I grit my teeth and bent my head into the wailing wind and snow.
If Sylvia hadn’t ripped my life apart, I could be home by a warm fire and cuddling my son and my husband. Maybe even pregnant with the next child. Maybe…
Shaking my head, I licked my dry lips. No. I’d lost Bobby. I had to focus. I had to keep my goals in mind. The list was explicit to completing my tasks.
I had a job to do.
And more than the will to do it with.
The weight of my backpack pushed against my lower spine. Cold air bit my lungs as I breathed in and out. One good thing had come from therapy – the ability to stay calm when I wanted to rage against the world.
Well, now I was going to stay calm while I raged. And enjoy every damn minute of it.
According to the plan I’d concocted and memorized, the dumb nurse was supposed to go first. The nurse who had pulled Sylvia aside and said they didn’t need to do the C-section because I was only having back labor.
The nurse who knew but kept her mouth shut during the pretrial.
She’d known.
I inhaled deeply and then exhaled, puffing the swirling white snowflakes away from my face. It didn’t matter what I did, though. The mass of the snow came down, obliterating my vision in chunks.
The snow kept coming.
Just like I did.
~~~
The alley behind the apartment house sent the snowmobile rumblings back with an eerie echo. The lights had gone out in town when I’d taken out the transformers north of the highway.
Darkness I could handle. I could almost hide from myself in the dark.
Encompassing silence startled me when I shut off the engine. I glanced around, adrenaline spiking my pulse and increasing my breathing.
Mother Nature must have lost a child, too. She helped me with an already stacked two feet worth of snow and more coming down by the second. The more snow she dumped on Sandpoint, the more vengeance I could claim.
I couldn’t take the chance to have confidence in my surroundings. Just because it seemed deserted, didn’t mean someone desperate to escape the blizzard-stranded town wouldn’t come down and steal everything. Sandpoint was a small town with a whole bunch of assholes.
The utter blackness when I shut off the lights sent a shiver up my spine. I took a moment to adjust.
Silence fell around me, allowing my bitterness to curl and roar in my ears, or maybe that was just my blood rushing in my head.
My hiking boots crunched in the snow as I half-ran in a semi-crouch to the back of the building. A historic landmark, the building had immunity from certain codes, at least that was how the landlord treated it.
The lack of locks and security made my task significantly easier. The back door swung open, a mild squeak loud in the three AM stillness. I glanced over my shoulder to the gray scale scenery to check for any followers.
In the distance, past where the lake would be, lights glowed from the hospital. They had one or more generators. This irritated me and I shut the door with a brisk snap, squeezing my eyes tight in regret.
But nothing stirred.
The best scenario for me would be if Karen slept. I could do what I came there for and move on to the bigger fish.
Just thinking her name had me clenching my fingers tight around the flashlight I pulled from the side of my pack.
I followed the circle of light up the stairs. I’d been there a few times – once to confront her, accuse her of covering up. She’d burst into tears and her boyfriend had asked me–even nicely–to leave. If not for the boy, I might have killed her then and there.
The second landing led me to her door. I pressed my ear to the old paneled door above the cold knob and listened for any movement inside.
I’d taken a lock picking course online a year or so ago. Wiggling the door knob with the hand holding the flashlight, I jumped back when the door swung open. I clicked off my light and hunkered against the opposite wall in the dark, clinging to the solid comfort of the empty hallway. I hadn’t picked that one.
Someone else had.
What the…
Pushing against the support behind me, I edged closer to the darker gaping doorway. Slowly, I raised my flashlight, ready to click it back on.
Mild cursing joined the presence of another bobbing circle of light as it bounced inside the apartment–staying my hand.
I jerked back into the corner of the hallway, trying to hide myself from whoever might discover me.
As the light got closer, I shut my eyes, hoping I didn’t reflect anything. A rush of air moved the stray hair around my face as the person darted past me from the apartment.
They weren’t supposed to be there any more than I was.
The slight pattering of feet and then the click of the door shutting downstairs assured me I was alone.
But for how long?
I stood, striding toward the apparently empty apartment and tucking myself just inside the doorway. My flashlight clicked on, illuminating the interior in a sectional display.
Everywhere things lay on their sides or upside down. The couch cushions had been moved at angles and a mirror hung askew on the wall parallel to my position, bouncing light in my direction. As my eyes adjusted further, I couldn’t fight the fact that someone else had been there and they weren’t friendly.
Off the side of the living room in an open-floor layout, the kitchen was easy to see from my position. Its littered linoleum was barely seeable under the dumped out cereal boxes and stray pasta thrown around like an abandoned game of Pik-Up-Stix.
If nothing else, I had to accept the fact that Karen wasn’t there. But what if she was? What if someone had done my job for me?
The sensation of being cheated stole through me, forcing me to search the rest of the living quarters for a dead body or a tied up person or anything.
But the lack of Karen or anyone else left me feeling a sense of urgency.
Because she wasn’t there.
Someone else wanted her and they just might get to her first.
****
I couldn’t be sure where to start searching for Karen, so I adjusted my timeline.
Next up would have to be the judge.
Judge Condran lived amongst the oldest homes in Sandpoint with their grandiose porches wrapped around like skirts, and their lawns tightly manicured. The snow would be carefully maintained on that part of town and many of the driveways would have gates even though their neighbors could see over the hedge fencing.
Deserted streets delivered me to his driveway in minutes from Karen’s place. It never failed to amaze me how the sections of the town were separated by mere minutes. At least in Spokane, Washington, the biggest metropolitan area around they had their slums separated by more distance and a fading from one to the other.
In Sandpoint, there was a line between this house belonging to the poor with barely hung doors and cracked windows while the next home was a mansion with tiled walkways and a sprinkler system that rained down gold.
