by K. A. Davis
The foursome paid their bill, including a large tip for Brittany, and left the restaurant.
***
Jill and Caroline drove out of town first with Claire and Diane following.
“Shopping turned out to be fun, didn’t it Claire?” Diane asked, looking at her friend in the driver’s seat.
“Yes, it was relaxing and a nice change.”
“I’m very excited about the Claire Murray rug I bought. I’ve always wanted one,” Diane said.
Claire was silent. The rain had started again and she reduced her speed on the narrow road. Looking in the rearview mirror she slowed down even more.
“Hey Diane, don’t turn around, guess who’s behind us?”
“Don’t make me guess, just tell me.”
“It’s Wendell and he’s right on our bumper.”
“What’s his hurry? Can’t he see it’s raining?”
“I guess not. I think I’ll slow down even more.”
“Claire, are you trying to antagonize him?”
“Ya know, Diane, I believe I am,” she smirked.
“Claire, you’re acting like a teenager. For heaven’s sake, let’s not make things worse.”
Claire continued at the slow pace. “Diane, think about it. If I annoy him enough he might come after me and then we would have something to go to the police with.”
“Yeah… or to the funeral director. In this rain, on this narrow road, you could get us killed.”
“We’re almost to the cottage. He’s just going to have to wait.” Claire calmly drove the short distance to Windward Cottage and turned into the driveway.
Ike ran to the car and jumped up on Claire. “Down boy. It’s okay. We’re home.”
Jill and Caroline were waiting for them in the parlor. “What took you so long? You were behind us one minute and gone the next.”
Claire went to the kitchen for a towel to dry Ike.
Diane collapsed her umbrella and dropped it in the stand beside the door. “Claire decided to try and get us killed.”
“What are you talking about,” Caroline asked.
As Claire dried Ike, Diane repeated the conversation they had in the car while Wendell followed them.
Jill plopped down on the closest chair. “Maybe that’s not such a bad idea, but Claire, you’re not his type. He likes defenseless, little girls.”
“I know but, maybe, with enough pressure he’ll crack.”
Caroline grew impatient with the conversation. “This is crazy. Forget it. If we can compile information for the authorities, that’s where this ends.”
Diane moved to the fireplace and knelt down. “It’s chilly in here. I think I’ll beat our mysterious visitor to the fire tonight. Can someone find me some newspaper?” Just as the fire caught Diane’s phone rang. “Oh geez, someone please grab that until I get up. Darn arthritis!”
Jill reached into Diane’s bag and pulled out the phone. “It’s Ed. Maybe he has some information for us.”
“Hello,” Diane said, taking the phone from Jill. “Hi. I’m good and you? You did? Great... Let me get a pencil and paper. Go on... Yes… Really? Interesting. Thank you so much, we really appreciate it… I’ll explain everything later… No, I won’t be home on Saturday after all. We’ve decided to stay another week. Yes, I’ll keep you posted.” Diane turned her back on her friends and talked a little longer in a quiet voice. “Goodnight, Ed.”
“Hmmm… what was that all about Diane,” Jill asked, with a wink.
Diane blushed. “I told him I wanted to have a long talk with him when I get home.”
“Very good, Diane,” Caroline said, giving her the thumbs up sign.
Diane ignored her and turned to Claire and Jill. “Ed did the check on Wendell.”
“And…,” Claire asked, anxiously.
“First of all, his first name isn’t Wendell, it’s Lloyd. He’s Lloyd Wendell, Jr.”
“He’s a junior? Hmmm… from the age of the truck in the photo, his father must have been in the plumbing business first and then passed it to him,” Claire thought, out loud.
Diane pressed on. “His mother left the area when Wendell was only six. She was never heard from again.”
“Probably knocked her off too,” Jill interrupted.
Diane gave Jill “the look” and continued. “Here’s the really interesting thing. Wendell, I’m so used to calling him that I can’t change now…is a few years younger than us, which means he would have been very young when Betsy disappeared. Do you believe a young boy could have gotten away with that and carried out all the other abductions?”
“No,” Claire said. “But his dad could have.” After several seconds she added, “You know, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree….”
“Oh my God,” Caroline said, with a giggle. “Is pedophilia hereditary?”
“Caroline, this is no time to joke,” Diane said. “If a child is raised in that kind of environment he would have a hard time knowing right from wrong.”
“You’re not making excuses for him are you Diane?” Jill asked.
“Certainly not. Just thinking out loud. What a horrible thing to do to your own son, not to mention those poor girls.”
“Anything else?”
“Nope. Not even a parking ticket.”
Jill spoke up. “Do you think Mrs. Wendell knew what was going on and that’s why she left? I wonder if she’s still alive.”
“Two good questions, Jill,” Diane said.
Caroline stood and stretched. “Is anyone getting hungry?”
“How about a good, old spaghetti dinner,” Jill offered. “I got some great, Italian bread at the bakery and homemade meatballs at the deli. I think we have everything else we need, right Claire?”
“Yes, there’s pasta and sauce in the cupboard.”
“I’ll make a salad,” Caroline volunteered.
“And, I’ll drink the wine,” Diane said, with a grin.
Claire placed another log on the fire and followed the others into the kitchen.
Just as they were about to eat Jill’s phone rang. She took the call in the parlor and then returned to the kitchen with a dejected look.
“Anything wrong, Jill?” Caroline asked, placing the freshly, sliced bread in the middle of the table.
“No. Not really. Drew isn’t coming back until Sunday. Something came up and he has to stay in Boston longer than expected. He was calling to ask us to make arrangements for Ike at a kennel, but I told him we’re staying another week and that we’d be happy to keep Ike.” Looking around the room she added, “Was that okay?”
Claire, Diane, and Caroline all agreed it was fine. “Frankly,” Claire added. “I’m really going to miss Ike when he goes home.” Reaching down she slipped the dog a meatball under the table.
After the meal was finished, and the kitchen clean, the women returned to parlor.
“How about some poker?” Jill suggested.
The chips were divided, the cards dealt, and they put on their best, poker faces. Old stories of past vacations and college days filled the air, and thoughts of anything else receded into the dark corners of the old house.
“Now this is what vacations are supposed to be like,” Caroline said, laughing at one of Jill’s stories.
“Look at the time,” Diane said. “It’s nearly midnight. I’m beat. How about you all?”
Claire started stacking chips and Caroline returned the cards to their box.
“It’s been a long day. Let’s head upstairs. I just need to let Ike out one more time,” Claire said, getting up from the table. “Come Ike.”
Diane followed Claire to the kitchen to wait for Ike while Jill and Caroline locked all the doors and windows, and extinguished the fire. None of the women saw the patrol car drive slowly past the house.
Reaching the third floor Claire tried the door to Betsy’s room. It was unlocked so she opened the door and whispered, “It’s okay Betsy. We’ll get him.”
Chapter Nine
; Week Two
Friday
Claire
Ike woke Claire with sloppy kisses on her hand dangling over the side of the bed.
“Ah, Ike, I was going to sleep in today,” Claire whispered.
Very quietly, Claire slid from under the blankets and grabbed her clothes. Ike followed silently to the kitchen where Claire dressed. “Come on boy, let’s make our get-away.” Closing the back door softly, woman and dog bounded down the steps to the beach. Claire found a sturdy stick and threw it as far as she could down the beach.
It was a clear, crisp morning with a warm, yellow sun already burning off the mist. The air smelled fresh and clean from the previous day’s rain, and the beach was littered with shells from the raging surf the day before.
Claire threw the stick into the water farther down the beach toward Drew’s cottage. Ike ignored the stick. Instead, he ran over the dunes to the cottage and barked at the back door. When the door didn’t open, he ran to the driveway and sniffed.
“Come Ike,” Claire called, standing at the water’s edge.
Ike raced back over the dunes to Claire and whimpered. Reaching down she patted him. “He’ll be back soon. Don’t worry, he would never leave you, especially with me.”
Ike cocked his head and looked at her with his big innocent brown eyes as if to say, why not?
“That was supposed to be a joke, Ike. Where’s your sense of humor?”
Ike found a new stick and they continued to play fetch until they were in front of Wendell’s. Claire turned and looked at the dilapidated house. Calling Ike out of the ocean she walked to the top of a dune directly in front of the house. Sitting down, she crossed her legs yoga fashion and told Ike to sit beside her. Anyone watching would have thought she was meditating. In reality, her body was positioned so that all she had to do was shift her eyes to the right without moving her head and she had a perfect view of the cottage.
“I know you can see me, Wendell. Are you up? Are you watching on your coward’s cameras from your sick little room?” Claire said, softly as she scratched Ike’s head. “What are you going to do about it? Do you have the guts to come out here and confront me, or am I too big for you? Maybe it’s time you picked on someone your own size?”
Claire closed her eyes and enjoyed the warm sun on her face at the same time ignoring the wet sand soaking through her jeans. Still, she sat, and thought. This is only the beginning Wendell. I’m going to find a way to break you.
Ike, tired of sitting, lowered himself down beside Claire and chewed the stick tucked between his paws.
Spence would not be happy with me. Or would he? He would never tolerate this injustice. I wish he were here. I have to know how this evil man got away with this. I have to know what really happened to Betsy and the other children.
Claire and Ike sat on the dune for an hour. Ike chewed while Claire prayed for guidance and the strength to carry out her mission. She prayed for the lost souls whose pictures were the proof of a decayed brain. She prayed for the sorrow in the hearts of their families. “Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord. Could his vengeance be mine too?” Claire said, out loud.
Finally, she stood, turned, and waved at Wendell’s house and then started back the way they had come. Just past Drew’s cottage she looked up at the roof of Windward Cottage. There was a woman on the roof. It was broad daylight now and no darkness to distort what she saw. There was definitely someone there.
***
Caroline
“I’m going to paint a sunrise,” Caroline said, with a nod to her reflection in the mirror.
Gathering her painting supplies, easel, and a new canvas she started up the steps to the roof. Her foot hit something on the first step and she put down the easel to see what it was.
“A pair of binoculars? Who found these? This is great, I’ll be able to zoom in for detail.”
Continuing up the steps, with her lazy man’s load, she opened the door to magnificent sunshine.
Oh how different everything looks when you’re happy she thought. Everything about the morning captivated her. She breathed in deeply and then went about setting up her work area. Picking up the binoculars she adjusted them to the clearest setting and scanned the beach and ocean. The feeling of that day in her bedroom when the scene in the window turned into a masterpiece came back to her. She felt like she was in a seascape painted by one of the great masters.
“There can’t be anything closer to heaven than this,” she said, aloud. “Is this one of the thin places Claire was talking about? Someday, I’ll share this with my boys and their families. I’ll paint their children playing on the beach and jumping the waves. And, I’ll paint Bill with a sinister mustache and beady, little eyes… the sniveling wimp.” Laughing, she pointed the binoculars down the beach. There was a woman and dog playing on the beach. Adjusting the binoculars she zoomed in. “Claire! What are you doing? For heaven’s sake get back here,” she called, but Claire was too far away to hear her.
Caroline set up her easel facing in Claire’s direction. She would paint and keep an eye on Claire at the same time.
As she painted Caroline prayed. “Please God, keep her safe. Guide her in her quest and give her peace.” Over and over she repeated her simple prayer. Each brush stroke seemed foreign. It didn’t feel like her hand doing the work. There was a calming strength controlling her movements. Each time she picked up the binoculars, to make sure Claire was still in sight, when she looked back at the painting it was more beautiful than she had thought. Was she really capable of this kind of work? Finally, she saw Claire and Ike close to the house, she cleaned her brushes and put her paints away. Glancing back at the painting, before carrying it downstairs, she sucked in her breath sharply. There was a little girl, alone on the beach, building a sandcastle. Caroline could not remember painting the child. The hues of the colors and proportion were perfect in every aspect of the painting; the light from the sun, the shadows on the dunes, the depth of the blue water, the blond hair and rosy cheeks of the little girl.
This truly is a gift, Caroline thought, silently. I promise not to waste it.
***
Jill
Jill slowly opened her eyes and turned toward the other single bed. Empty.
“Darn her! I bet she took Ike by herself!”
She looked around the third floor. No Claire. On the second floor, she found Caroline’s room empty and Diane’s door still closed. The first floor was empty and surveying the beach from the back porch revealed no Claire, no Caroline, and no Ike. All four cars were still in the driveway.
I hope they’re together. Probably just took Ike for walk Jill thought, putting her hand to her chest feeling her heart pounding.
Cooking always calmed her so she started the coffeemaker and went about making breakfast.
“If she’s okay, I’m going to kill her,” she said, out loud. “We made an agreement and she has no business going out alone; unless, she’s with Caroline.” Addressing herself she added, “Jill, calm down. Give her a break. You don’t know whether she’s alone or not.”
As she worked, she thought about Drew. She really did miss him. How can you miss someone you’ve known for less than a week? This is silly. This is the first man who has really interested me since I left Ray. Ah, heck… Drew is a rebound.
But, is there a statute of limitations on rebounds? It’s been over twenty years since I left Ray, surely that’s too long for a rebound she thought, puckering her lips and cocking her head.
Trying to think about something else she forced her brain to move on to a real concern. Carrie. What if Carrie does move away? What will I do? I can’t leave my job after all this time and retirement is still ten years away. I love my little house. I don’t want to move. Carrie doesn’t need me anymore...I have to face that fact. A single tear rolled down her cheek. My baby doesn’t need me anymore. I have to let her go. She has to live her own life.
Wiping the tears away with a paper towel she forced her mind away from the pai
nful thought and back to Drew. Could Claire be right about Drew? Maybe I am rushing into something. Oh, but I do like him.
We‘ll just take our time. There’s no hurry. If he wants to see me after we leave here then that’s good. If not, well if not, I’ll enter a convent. That’s it. A convent. Perfect. I bet they’d let me cook there she thought, setting her chin with conviction.
***
Diane
The hot water felt good streaming down Diane’s body. She lathered her hair and savored the almond scent of the shampoo.
That was about the first good night’s sleep I’ve had since we got here she thought, rinsing the bubbles out of her hair. One could hardly call this a vacation. It seems like we’ve been in a state of turmoil ever since we arrived. What is it about this house? It’s been controlling us ever since we arrived.
Stepping over the side of the tub she grabbed a towel. Gotta love this hair. No fuss. No muss she thought, roughly towel drying her short hair.
Back in her room she sat on the side of the bed and thought about their situation. What exactly are we doing here? We need our heads examined trying to go after a serial killer. We don’t have the knowledge for this or the youth for that matter.
Looking out the window, the house’s power gripped her and the ocean waves hypnotized her. She couldn’t pull her eyes away. What if it were Deidra… or one of my friends’ daughters? What if someone got this close to the answer and didn’t follow through? What if…
The beautiful day beckoned her but she couldn’t move. She kept staring out the window. Claire’s right. We have to follow this as far as we can. We have Ed to help us. Thinking of Ed she smiled. All the times he had been there when she needed him. He was her best friend. She shared everything with him; her concern for her children, the details of her business, her fear of losing her parents, even the times when she just needed to vent, Ed was there.
Diane slapped herself alongside the head. What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve loved that man for years and never knew it. He deserves better. Picking up her cell she punched speed dial. A sleepy, male voice answered.
