Lost

by Vivi Anna

  Finally, there came a clear voice.

  I am here, Kirsten.

  Where? She thought frantically.

  Right here. See me.

  As the air left her lungs, Kirsten searched in the water, frantically turning left then right. Straining against Debbie’s hold on her, she had to find Renee. She was here, calling to her. Asking her to help.

  “I can’t find you!” she screamed into the water, taking it in when she opened her mouth.

  Then she was there. A pale young face floating in front of her. Renee Burke had found her way home.

  Smiling, Kirsten reached for her, but she was pulled back by another set of hands.

  She struggled against the hold on her as she was dragged out of the water.

  “No!” She kicked and flailed her arms. “No! I have to save her!”

  “Kirsten! You’re okay. You’re safe.”

  She knew that voice. That calming deep rumble. She stopped struggling and looked up into Adam’s face.

  He smoothed a hand over her cheek. “You’re okay.”

  “I saw her, Adam.”

  He nodded, then glanced over his shoulder. “I know.”

  She followed his line of sight and saw her father and another deputy pull a body out of the water. It was Renee Burke’s body. They lay her down gently on the beach, then her gaze landed on another deputy restraining Debbie March in handcuffs.

  Adam wrapped a wool blanket around her. “You found her, Kirsten. You found her.”

  Tears rolled down her cheeks to mingle with water drops already on her face. As relief surged through her, she became extremely aware of the cold that had settled into her muscles and bones. Her body was shaking violently. She’d been so focused she hadn’t even noticed.

  Another face came into view as she laid there shaking. Her dad crouched next to her.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, her teeth chattering so hard she couldn’t form any words.

  He brushed her wet hair from her forehead. “When we got the call from Mrs. Turnbull about Debbie March showing up I thought… I thought I lost you.”

  She pulled her arm out of the blanket and covered his hand with her own. She squeezed his fingers, hoping she could express what she couldn’t in words.

  He looked at Adam. “Get her inside. Make sure she’s okay.”

  Adam nodded, then without any effort picked her up in his arms. She watched her father as Adam carried her back to the house. The last time she’d seen him look so sad was when her mother had died.

  With that thought, she promptly passed out.

  Chapter 11

  The light brushing of fingers on her forehead woke Kirsten. Her eyelids fluttered open to see Adam sitting on the bed beside her, stroking her face and hair.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hey.” She pushed up on her elbows and sat up. Her head throbbed something fierce. “How long have I been out?”

  “About eleven hours.”

  She rubbed at her face, images of the night flashing in her mind. Water. The face of the dead. “I wasn’t dreaming, was I?”

  He shook his head. “No dream, babe. Debbie March nearly killed you.”

  “I can’t believe she killed that girl.”

  Adam rubbed a hand over his face. “Once we had her in custody, she confessed to it. It was a big shock all around. I don’t think Bill will be the same.”

  Closing her eyes, she settled back against the headboard. “Everyone can find their peace now.”

  Adam grabbed her hand. She opened her eyes.

  “What about you, Kirsten? What about your peace?”

  She gave him a half smile. “I guess I just wasn’t made to have any.”

  He tugged her to him, and hugged her tight. He kissed the top of her head.

  She snuggled into him, closing her eyes, revelling in the heat of his body and the smell of his clothes and skin. Adam would always be the closest she’d ever come to being home. He represented safety and sanctuary and unconditional love. It killed her that she had to leave it behind. Again.

  Her gifts would never allow her to settle in one place. Never allow her to have what other people had, a permanent home, a family. She’d always be leaving when the next dream came, when the next victims called to her. She wouldn’t do that to the people she loved.

  “How’s Samuel taking it all?”

  “He was just here actually, checking in on you.”

  “Did he notify Haddy?”

  Adam nodded. “He called her soon after pulling Renee from the water, to identify her.”

  She pulled out of his embrace. “She can grieve now.”

  He nodded.

  She rolled off the bed and stood, grabbing her suitcase and zipping it open.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting my stuff together. I think its time I left.”

  Adam stood. “You’re leaving? Still?”

  “Yeah. I accomplished what I came here to do.” She shoved her dirty clothes into the case. “What did you think was going to happen?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I just hoped.”

  She looked at him then. She saw the anguish on his face. The loss of her all over again.

  She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him. “I do love you Adam. You will always be part of me.”

  He returned the embrace. Then leaning down he found her mouth and possessed it. The kiss was lethal. Stabbing her in her heart and in her belly. When it was done, and she pulled away, she could feel the prick of tears at the corners of her eyes.

  “I’ll call you. I promise. You can come visit me in Seattle. Or wherever I go next.”

  He nodded. “All right.”

  She kissed his cheek. “I need to shower.”

  He walked to the door, opened it and paused in the doorway. “You’re not as lost as you think you are Kirsten. You will always have a home here.” Then he left.

  After a shower, then packing up her car, Kirsten drove to the Sheriff’s Office one last time.

  Carly waved at her as she came in and walked past the reception desk to the back offices. Her dad’s door was shut and she knocked on it.

  “Come.”

  She went in, finding the sheriff behind his desk busy reading something on his computer. “Hello, Daddy.”

  He stood this time and came around the desk to greet her. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m good. Just a headache.”

  “Well, that’s good.” He scratched at his chin. Something she came to realize he did when he was nervous. Which wasn’t too often.

  “I just came to say goodbye.”

  “Oh. I guess we missed breakfast, hey?”

  She gave him a small smile. “Yeah, I guess we did.”

  There was a few moments of silence until Kirsten spoke again. “I hope Haddy Burke can move on now that she can grieve.”

  “Thanks to you, she’ll be able to.”

  That was what she’d been waiting to hear from her father. Gratitude. Pride. Understanding. Acceptance. Her heart finally released the bitter pain it had been holding all these years.

  She gave him a smile, then turned to go. Before she could step out, he called her name. “Kirsten?”

  “Yeah?”

  He walked to her, opened his arms and wrapped her in them. The tears she’d been holding in ran down her cheeks as she hugged her father. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d hugged. Maybe at her mom’s funeral. Maybe not even then.

  So much she had inside bubbled to the surface and she let it out, too tired to keep it imprisoned. “I love you, Dad. I love you so much.”

  “I love you too, baby girl. I’m so sorry I’ve been so closed down.” He hugged her closer. “After your mom died, I didn’t know how to live the right way anymore.”

  “I know. Me too.”

  He pulled back, and looked her in the eyes. “I was afraid of losing you too. And when you left I thought I had failed at loving you.”

>   “You’ll never lose me, Daddy. I’m here, even when I’m not.”

  For the first time since her mom had died, Kirsten knew they could both move on. She could have the relationship she’d always wanted with him.

  He nodded, and took a step back, rubbing at his eyes, trying to hide the tears that she saw there. “Heading back to Seattle?”

  “Yeah, for now.”

  “I’ll call you this time.”

  “You better.” She wiped at her eyes.

  “I will, I promise.”

  “Okay.” She smoothed down her hair and dabbed at her eyes again. “I’ve got to go if I want to catch my plane.” She squeezed his hand once, then turned to go.

  “Will you come home for Christmas this year?”

  She smiled. “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

  She left his office, got in her car and pulled away from the curb. As she turned onto Highway 90 and headed toward Missoula, she glanced in her rear-view mirror at the town she grew up in, and realized that no matter where she went, or how long she’d been gone, Bandit Creek would never let her get lost. She’d always find her way back home.

  Turn the page for an exciting glimpse of the next Bandit Creek book, SIREN’S SONG by DL Snow, coming September 30, 2011…

  SIREN’S SONG

  A Bandit Creek Time Travel

  By

  D L Snow

  CHAPTER ONE

  The first time I saw him was at my grandmother’s funeral. He was at the internment, standing just beyond the periphery of the mourners, looking out of place and familiar all at the same time. I didn’t realize what he was probably because my eyes were blurred with tears. I hadn’t seen my grandmother since I was seven years old – there was some feud between her and my mother that I’d never understood – yet I wept, not because we were close but because we weren’t close and she was the last living relation I had.

  It was strange that I’d noticed him at all because there were so many people at the funeral, none of whom I knew. Some of them were probably long time friends of the family, but by the way people whispered and stared at me, I was willing to bet many of them were there simply to see me, Joss Jones.

  The next time I saw him was later that night.

  My grandmother had left me everything; her house, an old 1983 Firebird, and whatever money remained after her hospital bills were paid. Five years ago I would have scoffed at such a measly inheritance; a run down old house and car in Bandit Creek, Montana. But I wasn’t scoffing now. In the last five years I’d given away almost everything I had so now the house and car seemed like a small undeserved fortune.

  After the funeral, the lawyer dropped me off in front of the house, The Old Hawes Place, he’d called it. I don’t know why he called it that, my grandmother’s last name was Jones, like mine.

  It didn’t feel right to sleep in her room and, after accidentally opening the door to my mother’s old room, I quickly shut it, planning to never step foot inside again. So that night I slept in the guest room.

  Sometime between one and two in the morning I woke up. I sat straight up in bed and rubbed my eyes, trying to remember where I was. That’s when I saw him standing in the corner of the room, watching me sleep.

  I screamed.

  He just kept standing there. I flew out of bed, ran down the stairs, grabbed the keys to the old Firebird – which started on the third try – and booked it out of there. I drove through the night, following I-90 towards Missoula where I nearly ran out of gas. He was at the gas station, waiting for me beside the pump.

  I don’t know how long I sat there but – holy shit – did I jump when someone knocked on my window. It wasn’t the ghost, it was someone else, a man with tattooed forearms and spiky orange hair.

  I rolled down the window.

  “Are you going to sit there all night or are you planning on buying gas?”

  I blinked at him.

  “You okay, Lady?”

  “Can I use your phone?” I asked. “I need to call someone and I don’t have my mobile.”

  “Yeah, sure. C’mon inside.”

  I stood at the counter of the station while he passed me a phone. The sad thing was, I had no one to turn to but my old agent, Amber Kincaid.

  “Hello?” She answered on the third ring. I knew she would because she had too many neurotic clients who needed her at all hours of the day and night not to answer.

  “Amber? It’s me, Joss.”

  “Joss? What the hell? What time is it?” I heard her fumbling on the other end. “It’s four in the goddamned a.m. Joss? What the fuck?”

  “I need your help-”

  “Hey!” the attendant interrupted. “I know you. You’re that singer. That teen idol chick who was in that accident, aren’t you?”

  I turned my back on the guy and covered the mouth piece as I listened to Amber rant, “You need my help? I don’t hear from you in years and suddenly you need me?”

  I cringed. “Yeah, I know. I should have called before, but I got busy with school and-”

  “School?”

  “Yeah.” I squeezed my temples. “You know, college? That thing normal people do.”

  “Joss-”

  I sighed. “Look, I just needed some time to sort out my shit, you know?”

  She was so quiet I thought maybe she’d hung up. Finally she said, “What do you want?” She sounded tired and cranky, nothing like the woman who, at one time, would have dropped everything to accommodate my needs.

  I cleared my throat and as calmly as possible tried to explain that I’d run out of gas after leaving my house without my purse or mobile phone. With a heavy sigh, she asked to speak to the attendant and managed to convince him to put the gas charge on her credit card.

  “She wants to talk to you,” he said as he passed me the phone before heading out to fill up my tank.

  I pressed the phone against my ear while hunching over the counter. “Yeah?”

  “What the hell is going on, Joss?”

  Pinching the bridge of my nose did not stop the tears from squeezing past. It felt like I had a nest of spiders camped on top of my head, each one taking a turn sliding down my spine and then scrambling back up again. I was pretty sure that meant the apparition was standing right behind me but I was too afraid to turn around and look. “Amber,” I whispered. “I’m losing it, big time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I’m seeing shit, is what I mean.” I slowly glanced behind me. He was standing right there, shaking his head as if to disagree with me.

  I made some weird whimpering sound and Amber said, “Okay, just calm down. I’m going to give you a number for someone in Seattle. Can you get to Seattle?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Her name is Dr. Phyllis Smith. She’s a friend. She’s good and she’s discreet.”

  “Is she a shrink?”

  “No. She’s a medical doctor who specializes in addiction.”

  “Addiction? Jesus, Amber, I don’t need rehab, I need…” Hell, what did I need? A shrink? A priest? An exorcist? What?

  “Joss, take the number, okay? Then you call me when you have your shit together and we’ll work something out. I’m thinking we can set you up for a comeback – maybe a new album. Joss Jones, Older and Wiser.”

  The bell over the door rang and the attendant returned.

  “Okay, I gotta go,” I mumbled into the receiver.

  “Wait, let me give you that number.”

  I hung up before she finished and then peeked fearfully over my shoulder but the ghost was gone.

  He appeared three days later while I was on the phone with a real estate agent. He didn’t speak but he did do that sad little head shake he’d done in the gas station, then he vanished. By the time I realized I was still on the phone, the line was dead.

  Two days later, I found him in the kitchen reading the newspaper. I let out a yelp and he looked up before fading away. Once I got my erratic heart beat under control, curiosity got the b
etter of me and I gingerly sat in the chair where he’d just been sitting. The paper was open to the career section and right at the top was a position for a music teacher at James Ellis School in Bandit Creek.