Bad Moon (Kat Campbell Mysteries)

by Ritter, Todd

  Glenn Stewart’s face. Coming toward him.

  His neighbor stretched out his arms, grasping at Eric’s shirt. He caught the collar and tugged Eric toward him. Soon their heads were above the surface. Eric opened his mouth and vomited out the swill that had collected there. Then he inhaled—a blessed, full-bodied breath that calmed his inflamed lungs.

  Glenn still had a firm grip on his arm and was pulling him to shore. Looking to his left, Eric saw the mouth of the falls about ten yards away, still trying to yank him toward it. The current was strong, but Glenn was stronger. He climbed to his feet, trudging to land and dragging Eric with him.

  His father was on the bank, lying on his stomach. In his hand was Nick Donnelly’s cane, which he thrust over the water. Holding on to his legs was Nick himself. When Glenn grabbed the cane, the other two pulled, forming a human chain whose only goal was to get Eric out of the water and away from the falls.

  Reaching shore, Eric collapsed in the mud and coughed up more water. Ken lay next to him, and he wrapped his arms around him. It was the first time he had hugged his father in years, maybe decades. It felt good.

  Flat on his back, Eric looked at those around him. There was his dad, of course. And Glenn Stewart, having saved his life a second time. Nick, however, was gone.

  Eric sat up in time to see him scurrying along the bank to the remains of the bridge. His gaze swept across the creek to the pile of wood slowly breaking apart in the middle of it. Kat was still there, trying to gain her balance on a patch of the bridge that had broken free.

  With her was Charlie, crouched on the other side.

  “Kat,” Eric said. “We need to help Kat.”

  *

  The bridge had become a raft. And not a sturdy one, either. Roughly ten square feet, it rocked unsteadily, water sloshing across its surface. Kat rose to a half crouch, bending her legs and keeping her balance with her hands. Across from her, Charlie Olmstead was getting into the same position. The Glock sat between them.

  When Charlie lunged for the gun, Kat did the same.

  They connected in the center of the raft, Charlie pushing her backward. Kat fell, the planks of the bridge hard against her back. Her head hung over the water, hair swirling in the current. When Charlie charged again, she twisted on to her side and curled into a ball as he kicked her in the stomach.

  The pain was excruciating. Centered at her abdomen, it spread outward like wildfire, consuming her whole body. When Charlie kicked her again, it hurt so bad that it blacked out her thoughts. Everything going through her head vanished, replaced by pain.

  She was vaguely aware of Nick and Eric nearby, the pair of them trying to reach her. It was impossible. She and Charlie were in the middle of the creek, too far to reach without diving in. And that was risky.

  Too risky.

  Yet they still tried. Eric scrambled out to one of the shattered beams. He wrapped his legs around it while grasping at another one a few feet away. He couldn’t reach it.

  But Charlie saw the attempt, and it stopped him from landing a third blow to Kat’s stomach. He paused, with his leg reared back. It wasn’t long—a mere blip of a second—but it was enough time to let Kat grab his leg and pull it out from under him.

  Charlie yelped before he toppled backward, just as Kat had done. The impact set the raft in motion. Kat felt it catch the current and start to drift. Soon it was spinning across the water’s surface like a rudderless boat.

  She knew she needed to swim for it. But she couldn’t leave Charlie alone with the gun. He’d pick her off in the water as soon as he got the chance. So she scrambled on top of him, even though her body was screaming in pain. Straddling his chest, she squeezed her legs in an attempt to keep Charlie’s arms pinned to his sides. He grunted under her weight as she reared back and punched him in the jaw.

  “That’s for Dennis Kepner’s mom.”

  She clocked him again. She couldn’t stop herself. Thinking about all the pain he had caused kept her swinging.

  “And Noah Pierce’s.”

  Another punch. This time in the nose. Kat saw blood spurt out from beneath her fist.

  “And Dwight Halsey’s.”

  Two more.

  “And Frankie Pulaski. And Bucky Mason.”

  Kat was crying now. She didn’t know how long it had been going on. Maybe as late as the last punch. Probably as early as the first. She let the tears flow. If not for her, then for all those mothers who lost sons at Charlie’s hands.

  She stood. It wasn’t hard. She used Charlie’s body as leverage to balance herself. Then she kicked him in the stomach, just as hard as he had kicked her.

  “And that’s for Maggie. Who never stopped loving you and never stopped looking for you. All that hope. All that love. You didn’t deserve it.”

  The raft had gained speed, heading inexorably toward the falls. Kat looked to the horizon, trying to gauge how much distance there was between them and the waterfall. She guessed fifteen yards. Maybe less. Not much distance at all, especially when each second meant they were one foot closer to the falls.

  Kat heard Nick and Eric behind her, begging her to leave the raft. “Swim for it!” they yelled. “Just jump!”

  She knew it was her only option. She took a step back, preparing to leap.

  A familiar click, sharp and metallic, stopped her. It was the sound of her Glock. Charlie had managed to grab it while she was kicking him. Now it was locked, loaded, and aimed right at her.

  Charlie sat up, holding the gun with trembling arms. She was trapped, with the waterfall now only about eleven yards away.

  “You can go ahead and shoot, Charlie,” she said. “But it won’t matter. You’ll still be just as dead as I am.”

  It took one glance at the falls for Charlie to know what she meant. Even if he shot her, he couldn’t get away from the current’s grip. For the first time, Kat saw emotion in his cold, dark eyes. It was fear. The deep, bone-chilling fear of someone who knew he was out of options.

  Ten yards.

  “What do we do?” Charlie asked as he climbed to his knees. “How do we keep from going over?”

  Kat eyed the Glock. “You put that thing down and we work together.”

  “How?”

  “Drop the gun first.”

  Charlie let go of the Glock. It hit the raft and bounced off, cartwheeling into the water. “Now tell me how.”

  Nine.

  Kat pointed to the oak branch that reached over the creek about five feet from the water’s surface. She had noticed it on Wednesday when she was on the bridge with Eric, identifying it as a person’s last chance to escape the falls. She had no idea then that it would be her only hope now.

  Eight.

  “When we get to that branch, we need to reach up and grab it. Then we slide over onto land.”

  Kat didn’t know if her plan would actually work. There was no way to know if the branch would support both of them until they were hanging from it. But they had to try.

  Seven.

  She held out her hand. Charlie took it and let her pull him to his feet. They both faced the falls and, standing shoulder to shoulder, prepared to grab the swiftly approaching branch.

  Kat raised her hands, holding them over her head. Charlie did the same.

  Six.

  “Why are you helping me?” he asked.

  “Because your mother would have wanted me to.”

  “Even after everything I’ve done?”

  “Yes,” Kat said. “Even after all of that.”

  Five.

  Beneath them, the raft started to bounce. They were running against the rocks on the creek bed as the water got shallower ahead of the falls. The raft was close enough for Kat to see the pool of water thirty feet below. Once again, the rocks there made her think of teeth—sharp, deadly ones ready to gnaw them to pieces.

  Four.

  “Did Maggie really look for me?” Charlie asked.

  Kat nodded. “Her entire life.”

  Three.
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  “And did she love me?”

  “Yes,” Kat said. “More than anything.”

  Two.

  They hit the patch of white water just before the plunge. It jostled the raft, breaking it into pieces. Several planks ripped free and spun over the edge.

  One.

  The oak branch was now right above Kat. She jumped, catching it with her right hand. Her lower body continued moving forward, tugging her arm until she heard a sickening pop. Her shoulder dislocating. She screamed through the pain, stretching her left hand until it also had a firm grip on the branch.

  Below her, Charlie was still on the raft. He had lowered his arms, not even attempting to grab the branch with her.

  “What are you doing?” Kat yelled. “Jump! It’s not too late!”

  But it was. The raft had sailed under the branch, leaving anyone on it without a means of escape. Kat knew it. And Charlie did, too.

  “You were right,” he called back. “I didn’t deserve it.”

  Kat pulled herself onto the branch. It hurt like hell, and her right arm was pretty much useless, but she managed. Once there, she wrapped her arms and legs around it.

  She watched the raft reach the lip of the falls, where it splintered apart. Charlie sank into the water, not even fighting the current as it overtook him. He flopped against the rocks like a rag doll, head lolling, arms and legs splayed.

  Then, more than forty-two years after he first vanished, Sunset Falls finally claimed Charlie Olmstead.

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  In addition to a dislocated shoulder and some bumps and bruises, Kat also suffered three cracked ribs, most likely when she was kicked in the stomach. She didn’t mind. It could have been a lot worse. She could have ended up like Charlie. Still, her injuries were enough to put her in the hospital overnight, which is where she learned that Dennis Kepner’s body had been found.

  The bearer of the news was Tony Vasquez, one of the half-dozen people crammed into her room. James was there, of course, along with Lou, Carl, and Nick. Even Glenn Stewart had made an appearance, although he stood silently against the wall, away from the crush of people surrounding Kat’s bed. Still, it was good to see him there. Kat hoped she’d be seeing more of him.

  “They dug up the yard where Craig Brewster used to live in Fairmount,” Tony said. “They found Dennis’s remains a few feet beneath the garden. He had been there all that time.”

  That left three of the missing boys unaccounted for—Dwight Halsey, Frankie Pulaski, and Bucky Mason. No one had high hopes of finding them. Dwight’s body could be anywhere in the woods surrounding Camp Crescent. As for Frankie and Bucky, there wasn’t any way to search the fiery mine shafts that ran beneath Centralia.

  “But their families know what happened to them,” Nick added. “Now they have closure. They can finally move on.”

  It wasn’t the happiest of news, but it would suffice. They knew when they started the investigation that there wouldn’t be any happy endings for those boys. They were right. But finding out the truth about what happened was a resolution they could be proud of.

  From what they pieced together, Charlie had indeed killed Dennis Kepner over a toy rocket. He then used it to lure Noah Pierce into the gristmill at Lasher Mill State Park, where he strangled the boy before dumping him in the water below. If Dennis was an accident, Noah was a thrill kill—Charlie’s first. But there were others, including Frankie Pulaski and Bucky Mason, both apparently shoved into the same sinkhole a few months apart.

  That left Dwight Halsey, who shared a cabin with Charlie at Camp Crescent.

  “Craig Brewster told me that Dwight had been in a fight before he vanished,” Nick said. “Most likely, the person he fought with was Charlie, who got his revenge later that night.”

  “What about Craig?” Kat asked. “Were you able to talk to him?”

  Tony shook his head. “He died. As soon as Nick and Charlie left the hospital, he started crashing. He didn’t last an hour.”

  Kat’s heart sank at the news. She didn’t know Craig Brewster, so she couldn’t mourn his passing. But she was sad that they would never find out if Craig suspected Charlie of killing those boys. She wanted to think he didn’t, but she knew better. Craig certainly would have realized what was going on, especially as more kids around him vanished. It was too much to ignore.

  “So that’s that,” she said. “Anything else to discuss?”

  Carl stepped forward. “Two things, Chief. We found Charlie Olmstead at the bottom of Sunset Falls.”

  “Dead, I assume?”

  “Yes. Dead and washed up onshore.”

  She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. She didn’t quite know how to feel about that. Even knowing all the horrible things he had done, a small part of her still thought of Charlie Olmstead as an innocent victim. The result was a mixture of remorse and relief.

  “What’s the second thing?” she asked.

  “Burt Hammond stopped by the station.”

  “What did he want?”

  “It was just some budget stuff.” Carl’s face broke into a wide, happy grin. “Like what kind of features we want with our new patrol cars.”

  “Dodge Chargers,” Lou said, sounding as excited as a kid at Christmas. “The exact ones you wanted.”

  Kat pretended to be happy. She even forced a pretty good fake smile. She didn’t have the heart to tell them that the cars were really a bribe on Burt Hammond’s behalf. He was trying to buy her silence about the home movie Lee Santangelo had made. It wasn’t going to work. Once she was released from the hospital, she’d tell Burt to spend the money elsewhere. Then she’d break the news to Carl that his beat-up Crown Vic would have to last another year.

  After a few more minutes of happy chitchat, Carl and Lou left the hospital to get back to work. Tony soon followed, saying he needed to deal with Gloria Ambrose, who had found out about Nick’s role in the investigation.

  “I’m about to get my ass chewed out,” he said. “I hope you two are happy.”

  Nick saluted him. Kat blew him a kiss.

  Next to leave was Glenn Stewart, who presented her with two books. One was To Kill a Mockingbird. The other was Goodnight Moon. Kat accepted both of them graciously, pleased to see that Glenn at least had a sense of humor about things.

  “May you have pleasant dreams and a swift recovery,” he said before sweeping out of the room.

  That left only James and Nick. James was in an overstuffed chair in the corner, where he had curled up during the crush of visitors. Nick stood at the foot of her bed.

  “I guess this wasn’t a rousing success for the Sarah Donnelly Foundation,” Kat said.

  Nick shrugged. “Not really. But we helped people, which is all that matters. And you’re still alive, which is the most important thing.”

  “Yeah, and you didn’t have to come to my rescue. I told you I was capable of saving myself.”

  “Maybe next time,” Nick said.

  Kat wanted to tell him there wouldn’t be a next time and that she was done helping his cause. But she knew it would be a lie. She knew she’d be there whenever Nick needed her and that he would be there for her. It’s just the way things worked.

  “So what are your plans this weekend?” she asked. “Going to try to dig up another cold case?”

  “Actually,” Nick said, “I’m taking the weekend off. In fact, I need to go pretty soon. I’m meeting someone for a beer.”

  Kat gasped in mock surprise. “Are you telling me that you’re putting crime fighting aside long enough to go out on a date?”

  “It’s not a date,” Nick protested. “It’s just a—”

  “No matter what you say, it’s a date. And I hope it goes well. But shower first. You smell like a wet ashtray.”

  “Thanks. I’ll consider that.”

  Nick moved to the door, glancing into the hallway for a moment. When he looked back into the room, Kat saw he had a wry smile on his face.

  “You know,” he said, “you might w
ant to consider diving into the dating pool yourself.”

  He slipped out of the room before Kat got the chance to ask him what he meant. But it became clear enough when Eric Olmstead entered a few seconds later, carrying a bouquet of flowers.

  “Sorry I couldn’t come sooner,” he said, setting the flowers next to her bed. “Unlike you, I had to wait in the ER for someone to check my injuries. It took forever, but I got a clean bill of health. As an added bonus, I found some nice pamphlets about rehab places for Dad. We talked about his drinking. He knows he has a problem and now he’s getting help.”

  “How’s he doing with the whole Charlie thing?”

  “To be honest, he’s still pretty shell-shocked.”

  “What about you?”

  Eric sighed. “Other than meeting my long-lost brother, finding out he tried to kill me, and then having him try to kill me a second time, I’m doing great.”

  “It’s a lot to take in,” Kat said. “For both of you.”

  “We’ll manage. But it means I’ll be staying in town a while longer. At least until Dad gets better and settles into the house.”

  This surprised Kat. All along, she assumed Eric was going to leave Perry Hollow as soon as the investigation was over. “You’re not selling it?”

  “No,” Eric said. “Dad needs a place to live. I have a house. It makes sense. Besides, it’s the least I can do.”

  He fussed with the flowers a moment, rearranging the stems. “Now that this whole thing is over, I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner sometime. Nothing big. Just a—”

  Kat knew where he was going with this. Regretfully, she had to stop him.

  “I can’t,” she said. “Not right now.”

  It pained her to say it. She liked Eric. She liked being with him. She easily imagined them falling into something similar to what they had in high school. And that was the problem. They weren’t in high school anymore. They were older and perhaps wiser, with commitments and lives of their own. Besides, Kat couldn’t make time for another man in her life. Not when she was already neglecting James, who would always be her main priority.