by Desiree Holt
And isn’t that what everyone wants me to believe?
Even the killer.
****
Stan and Lois Kelly lived in a small house near High Ridge Middle School. Dana sat in her car for a moment, studying the area. All the houses were small but well-maintained, most of them made of the familiar Texas stone and adobe. The lawns in front were neat, some with an abundance of flowers, others with neatly-trimmed shrubs.
A family neighborhood. Only some of the families had been ripped apart.
She hadn’t called in advance, unwilling to give the Kellys a chance to refuse to see her. Gathering her purse and her courage, she headed up the narrow walk and pressed the doorbell.
At first, there was no answer, although she could hear movement inside the house. She waited a little longer, then pressed the bell again, this time more insistently. The door cracked open the length of the chain inside, and a pair of haunted eyes peered out at her.
“Go away,” a woman’s voice said. “I know who you are. Just go away.”
Dana made her voice as even as possible. “Mrs. Kelly, I just want a few minutes of your time. That’s all. If you could just spare me that little bit.”
“I have nothing to say to you. I don’t want to talk about it.”
The door closed. Dana sighed and pressed the bell again.
“I’m trying to give all of you here some closure,” she called. “Don’t you want to find out who did this to your child? That person has been running around free all this time.”
Silence.
“Mrs. Kelly?” She lowered her voice slightly. “Just give me ten minutes. That’s all. Please.”
She was about to leave and try the next address when the door slid open, the loose chain rattling against its hard wood, and a hand motioned her inside.
“I don’t want you standing out there where all the neighbors can hear you,” Lois Kelly told her. “But I don’t have anything to say to you.”
Dana hurried inside before the woman changed her mind.
The house was immaculate, so neat it was almost inhumanly clean. Dana had seen this before, the compulsive cleaning, over and over, as if by doing so the stain of what happened could be washed away. And it kept one from thinking. Repetitive motion could be wonderful for blanking the mind. She should know, she harbored many of the same habits.
Lois Kelly was thin almost to the point of emaciation. Her straight dark hair was cut unattractively short—less upkeep—and she wore no makeup. She was dressed in black slacks and a black blouse. Dana wondered if she’d worn mourning clothes all these years.
“Jane Milburn told everyone what you’re after.” Her voice was high and thin. She stood in front of Dana, twisting her hands tightly as if they were the only thing holding her together. “You want to dig it all up again and bring back the nightmares just so you can make money. We won’t let you do it.”
“Lois.” Dana pulled out her best professional voice. “May I call you Lois? I think Jane misunderstood what I said to her. That’s not my intention at all.”
As she talked, she moved to a narrow wing chair by the window and casually lowered herself into it.
“Yes. Yes, it is.” Lois Kelly’s face took on a pinched, demanding look. “Why are you doing this?”
Dana looked around the small room. Nearly every surface was covered with framed photos of a smiling, chubby redhead with dimples and snapping eyes. She wasn’t older than five in any of them, the age the little girl had been when she was raped and murdered.
“Every one of you has mourned your children all these years yet you’ve had no real closure. That’s what I’m hoping to do. Find some answers that will give you closure.”
Lois untwisted her hands and shoved them in her pockets. “What makes you think you can do what the sheriff couldn’t? Besides, whoever it was has moved on. There’s been nothing in High Ridge since then.”
“Until today,” Dana pointed out.
Lois’s face turned rice paper white. “Are you saying it’s the same man? That he’s come back?”
Dana still couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere there was a connection, but she didn’t want to give voice to it just yet. People would really think she was nuts.
“No, not at all. I’m just hoping this doesn’t turn out to be an unsolved case like your Bonnie’s.” She shifted slightly in her chair. “What I’ve found with all of my books is that I bring a fresh eye to an old situation. Often I can see things that other people overlooked because they were too familiar with them. And many times that leads to answers that hadn’t been available or even imagined when the original crime took place.”
“Familiar?” Lois’s eyes widened. “Do you think it was someone we know?” She shook her head violently, disabusing both of them of the idiocy of the statement. “No, no, no. That’s just not possible.”
“Why don’t you come sit down with me?” Dana suggested. “Just for a few minutes. Tell me about Bonnie. I’d really love to hear about her. Come on. I’ll bet you don’t get to talk about her too often.”
Dana had found time and again that people buried their grief along with their loved ones, then dealt with it by banishing the subject from all conversation. But once she got them to talk, it was like opening the floodgates of a dam. And all too often, the tiny missing nugget spilled out in the flow of words.
Lois barely noticed that her unwanted guest had taken a seat and was carefully guiding the conversation. Dana was sure she was the first person outside a small circle of friends who had even been in this house since the death of their child. Very often she found herself the catalyst that opened all the locked doors.
“Stan says it hurts too much to talk about her.” One tear slid down her cheek. “And he blames me for what happened. Says it was all my fault.” She dropped into the chair at the other side of the window like a rag doll, tears flowing in earnest now. “But it wasn’t,” she protested. “He was there, too. He was right there. Why didn’t he watch her better?”
Dana’s heart pinched. These people had locked themselves in this obsessively neat house, all these years living with sorrow and blame, barely existing. Maybe even hating each other. Dana had seen that, too. How many others would she talk to who were frozen in time like this?
She reached into her pocket to turn on the voice-activated recorder, then leaned over and touched Lois’s hand very gently. “Why don’t you just tell me about Bonnie? I’d love to hear about her.”
“She was such a sweet thing.” Lois pulled a tissue from her pocket and mopped at her eyes. “So cheerful all the time. Laughed at everything. Stan would come home and toss her up in his arms and she’d just laugh and laugh. He said it was the one thing he looked forward to all day.”
Dana nodded at the photos. “She looks like a very bright little girl.”
“Oh, yes. She was smart all right. Maybe too smart. She wanted to know about everything. That’s why…” The tears welled again.
“I don’t understand. Are you saying that had something to do with what happened? I thought you were all at a picnic?”
“Yes.” Her dark head nodded. “We were at the big Fourth of July picnic out at the park. Bonnie was having such a good time. Stan pushed her on the swings, and they had rides for the little kids.”
“What happened? Can you tell me?”
“She was fascinated by the clowns. She wanted to know all about them.”
Dana felt every drop of blood in her body chill. Clowns. Oh, God. She made a mental note to go back over everything she’d copied down and see where the other children were taken and if clowns had been there.
“Were there a lot of clowns at the picnic, Lois?”
“Oh, yes. Four or five of them. Making those balloon figures and doing tricks for the children.” She balled the tissue up in her fist. “She was right next to me, sitting with her balloon animal. But she wanted another one. And she wanted the clown to show her how they were made. She kept asking one of us to take her.”
“But you didn’t,” Dana guessed.
She shook her head. “Stan had come back from the softball game and wanted a cold drink, and I was fussing around, getting it poured for him. He wanted a cup with ice, you see. And a snack. Two of the men on his team walked up and were talking to him. And I just turned my back for a minute. Only a minute.”
There was such pain on Lois’s face that Dana could hardly bear to look at her. “Are you saying she wandered away?”
Lois nodded. “There were so many people there. Almost the whole town attended that day. And when I turned around, she was gone and no one could find her.” She hiccupped. “I ran around calling her name. Stan did, too. And pretty soon other people helped. We even thought maybe she’d wandered into the woods. The park is pretty thick with trees.”
An ideal place for a predator. All he had to do was lure the child close, subdue her, and carry her to a car hidden from sight. “But you think she went looking for one of the clowns?”
Lois nodded. “That’s all she talked about. She kept repeating the word over and over.” She frowned. “But you know, the sheriff questioned every one of those clowns for a long time and they all swore they hadn’t seen her after the balloon show.”
“All of them? You said there were four or five, right?”
“You know, now that I think of it, there was something funny about that.” Lois rubbed her cheek, a faint tremor in her hand, and frowned. “But I can’t remember exactly what. I think it had to do with the number of clowns. Even the chamber of commerce who hired them wasn’t sure if four or five showed up.”
Dana’s chest tightened, and she had to force herself to breathe. What better disguise than that of a clown? He could conceal every aspect of his identity, blend in with his surroundings and at the same time be an attractive lure for children. Her unstable stomach roiled.
“Listen, I’ve talked way too much.” Lois stood up, their little chat finished. “Stan will have a fit if he even finds out I let you in here. You’ll have to leave right now. Please.”
Dana rose, gathering her purse. “No problem. I appreciate the time you’ve given me. And Stan won’t find out from me that I was here.” Impulsively, she hugged the sad, nervous woman. “Maybe when I put everything together, something good will come out of this and you can all have some peace. Thank you for your time.”
Lois practically shoved her out the door, and the chain snapped into place the moment the door closed.
Clowns. Damn. Of course. Just like the one who lived in her nightmares. She needed to go home and scan through the notes on her PDA. Any place in public and she’d be dogged by people asking questions or throwing sarcastic remarks.
Chapter Fifteen
Dana had planned to visit one other set of parents that afternoon, but after her session with Lois Kelly, she didn’t think she could handle another one so soon. Being personally involved made a whole lot of difference in how a case affected her. Listening to Lois was like reliving her own nightmare.
As soon as she got back to the house, she changed into jeans and an old shirt and began pulling up all the notes she’d made from the reports, looking for clowns. She took her time, not wanting to miss anything in her haste to search for similarities. Her eyes were gritty from studying the small screen and her stomach was reminding her to feed it when her doorbell rang.
Distracted, she didn’t bother to do her usual check through the peephole and just yanked the door open. She was shocked to see Cole standing there, holding a pizza box. He was obviously freshly showered and shaved and dressed in clean jeans and T-shirt.
“I already apologized for bothering you this morning,” she told him. “I thought you’d be too busy to leave your office.” She started to close the door, needing to get him out of her space.
He stuck his booted foot into the opening. “I actually came to apologize.” He pointed to the box he was holding. “And I brought a peace offering.”
Dana sniffed. The delicious scent of cheese and pepperoni drifted past her nose. She opened the door a little wider.
“So can I come in while the pizza’s still hot?”
Before she could stop herself, she’d swung the door wide and waved him in.
In the kitchen, he put the box on the counter while she got out plates, napkins, and drinks and put them in a stack. She didn’t know which shocked her more—finding Cole on her doorstep or letting him into her house. After the emotional day she’d had, she wasn’t sure she was ready to cope with him and his overpowering masculinity.
“Here, let me help.” His voice was right at her ear, a low rumble that warmed her in the oddest way.
She pressed her hands against her thighs to keep them from trembling and turned right into a wall of hard, male muscle. “I, um, need a little space here, Cole.”
He stared down at her, the color of his eyes darkening to hot chocolate. His hands on her shoulders felt like live coals, but strangely enough, that too seemed comforting.
“I can almost hear your mind buzzing.” His voice was a low rumble. “That kiss last night was no mistake.”
“I…You…” Her heart was beating triple time, and she knew the pulse at the hollow of her throat gave away the sensations rocketing through her.
“Admit it.” He was practically whispering now, and his hands cupping her face. “You felt it, too.”
Dana couldn’t move. She stood there, feet cemented to the floor, as his mouth came slowly down on hers and his lips brushed hers in a soft caress. She managed to move her hands up to place on his chest, but rather than use them to push him away, she kept them there feeling the heat of his skin through his T-shirt.
What was wrong here? Men terrified her. Scared her so badly she was unable to have a normal sexual relationship. So why wasn’t she freezing up inside? Running away? Where was the familiar feeling of panic? How did she go from traumatized to aroused without taking a breath? Who was this woman who had taken her place?
The moment stretched on and on, and still she didn’t move. The kiss intensified. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, and without thinking, she opened for him, letting him inside. Feeling his tongue like the sweep of a flame. Feeling her nerves dance in response and liquid soak her panties.
He never increased the pressure on her mouth, kept it light as he tasted every bit. She heard a soft moan and was shocked to realize it came from her.
And then it happened. The panic. The fear. She wrestled her way out of his arms, heart racing, and took a step back. Then two.
Cole stood perfectly still, watching her. “I don’t know what’s got you spooked, Dana, but I promise you, I’ll never do anything to hurt you.”
“Cole—”
His thumb to caressed her cheekbone, and she wondered why she didn’t move away.
“I don’t know what’s happening here,” he said in a low, even voice. “I want to say I can’t ever remember a connection this instant with anyone. I know you feel it, too. But I don’t want to frighten you so we’ll go slow. Very slow.” The smile widened. “At least, we’ll eat the pizza first.”
Her brain was totally frazzled, her vision hazy as he dropped his hands and took a step backwards.
“Pizza,” she repeated.
“First,” he reminded her and nodded at the utensils on the counter. “Can I help with anything?”
Somehow, she pulled herself out of her daze. “Oh. Yes. Sure.” She was babbling like an idiot. “Beer. In the fridge.”
In a flurry of nerves, she finished putting the dishes and pizza on the table and took the chair across from him, doing her best to gather her scattered wits. Why was this happening now? How could it happen so suddenly after all these years? And why with this man?
When the time is right, you’ll know it. She heard again the voice of her therapist, Dr. Summers. The barricades will fall, Dana.
But Dana hadn’t been prepared for them to fall so quickly. All she could think about was that damn dream and how much she suddenly w
anted it to be a reality. For so long she’d felt certain those dreams were out of her reach but now…
Now, at the worst possible time, when what she was doing required every ounce of inner strength to keep it together, when she’d brought herself back to the birthplace of her nightmares, here was Cole Landry turning her emotions upside down. Unexpected hunger and her familiar companion, panic, battled within her.
She looked at Cole and saw the lines of fatigue etched across his face and the shadows under his eyes. “How about another beer? You look like you could use it.”
He gave her a lopsided smile. “I won’t turn it down.”
“Go on into the living room. I’ll bring it to you in there.”
He was half-lying on the couch, looking as if he could use a week’s sleep, when she handed him the opened bottle.
“Thanks.” He sat up, raked his fingers through his hair and took a long swallow of the beer.
Standing in front of him, Dana fiddled with her own drink. “I never should have barged into your office the way I did today. That was idiotic of me and I’m sorry.” She chewed her bottom lip. “I was shaken by Leanne’s murder happening the moment I get here and start doing research for my book. I mean, nothing happens here for twenty-five years, then I show up and boom!”
“Don’t you think that’s kind of a stretch?” He took a long pull at the bottle. “I know the people in this county. It’s got to be a stranger.”
“Just like it was twenty-five years ago?” she demanded with a sudden burst of anger.
“Listen—”
She held up a hand, the anger dissipating as quickly as it had surged. “Sorry. I know it sounds farfetched, but I’m just…nervous.”
“Scared?”
“No. Yes.” She tossed her head. “Whatever.”
“But not enough to shut down this crazy project.”
“I can’t, Cole.” She dropped into the armchair. “I have to do this.”
He sat up straighter. “Can you at least tell me why?”
She shook her head. “I have my reasons. Leave it at that. Okay?” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Let’s say the pedophile wasn’t from around here. That he moved on. Someone that sick doesn’t just stop what he’s doing. Believe me, I’ve been researching these kinds of psychos for years and if there’s one thing that’s true, it’s that they don’t quit. They can’t quit. So where did he go? Where did he set up shop next? Did they find out? Did anyone even look? Check the national databases? Maybe find a pattern?”
