Little Secrets

by Anna Snoekstra

  “Are you here, honey?” She opened the closet. Empty too. Mia ran into Will’s room. She repeated her search in the closet, bathroom and underneath the bed. Nothing. There was a suitcase on top of the drawers. Not big, but big enough. Frank tried not to cringe as Mia slowly unzipped it.

  “That’s private property!”

  They all ignored him, breaths held.

  But no, there was no kid in there either. She pulled out some dirty T-shirts and socks and underneath it all, the teddy bear. She held it up, looking at Will, her face twisting.

  “I should have known,” she said.

  Frank put his gun to the dirty kiddie fiddler’s head, pressed it hard so it would leave a mark. “Where is she?”

  Will looked at him straight and steady. “I really don’t know.”

  “I’m not going to ask you again.”

  They stared at each other. Will didn’t even blink. The guy had no idea what was coming to him. If he were in his right mind, he’d be very afraid right now.

  Frank spun the gun in his hand and brought the butt down on the top of Will’s head, enjoying the cracking sound. He watched the pervert’s eyes roll back as he slumped to the floor.

  38

  Rose pinched her nose. The burned stench was like a slap in the face. It made her eyes water. The courthouse was dark, much darker than she’d been expecting. The floor was covered in broken glass; the fluorescent lights above had exploded, and power cables dangled limply from the ceiling.

  She had reached the waiting area. Rose remembered the way it used to look, before all this. It was the place where families had held hands anxiously. Where suited lawyers had talked in hushed whispers to pale-faced witnesses. Where people had tensed their bodies, desperately hoping for guilty or innocent. Rose had seen them all. She had hung around here a bit, following stories or looking for new ones. Now the place was barely recognizable. The cushioned seats were burned off, exposing the steel underlays. The carpet was just gray ashes and the bins were melted into warped modern sculptures.

  On the floor were shiny splatters. The kerosene. Again, she thought of the paper-plate kids. She just couldn’t imagine them coming in here at night with a canister of petrol. Matches and some scrunched-up newspaper, sure. But this?

  The burned plastic smell was so strong; it made her throat feel like it was going to close up. She kept going. Still treading lightly, looking around for a sign of life, her heart hammering.

  The door to the courtroom was closed. The cowardly part of her heart was screaming to run. To come back with the cops. Not to go into that room alone, where some maniac was lurking, with no weapons. Or even a torch. But she couldn’t stop. If Laura was in there, she couldn’t leave. She wouldn’t let Laura be in this terrifying place for one minute longer; she would be so scared.

  Rose’s hand shook violently as she reached up to the doorway. Her nerve endings flaring, screaming danger. She pushed the door open, her chin wobbling, weak with cold fear.

  The roof was gone from the courtroom. It had fallen inward, on top of the chairs, the judges stand, the witness box. She could see the moon, bright in the sky. It lit up the destroyed room. There was no one inside.

  Instantly, the fear turned to misery. Laura wasn’t here.

  Rose would have taken the fear. Fought the monster. She would have let her skin be slit, her bones be smashed, her hair be ripped out. Any pain would have been more bearable than this devastating disappointment. She turned out of the room, kept walking. Looking in the bathrooms, with their crackled tiles and doorless cubicles. The staff kitchen, which was as black and empty as every other room. The surface of the fridge was so blistered it looked like scales. The smell of the melted microwave made her want to be sick. But she kept going. She went out to the back, forcing open the door, which creaked so loudly she was sure that the ceiling would fall in on her. But it didn’t.

  She took her finger off her nose and pulled in lungfuls of air. It was still thick with the acrid burned smell, but it was more breathable than the fumes that had been confined inside. Rubbing the wetness off her cheeks with her dirty hands, she looked around. There it was, to her right. The crumpled-up white T-shirt she’d seen from the library window. Bending down, she tried to inspect it. It was dirty from ashes and stained with sweat. She got up and, not seeing the huge crack in the pavement, she tripped and fell onto her already-bleeding knees. The pain split up her thighs, hot and jagged. She flipped around onto her butt and looked at them; blood was mixing with ashes, dripping down her calves, looking like black oil in the moonlight. Her legs hurt like hell, but she forced herself up.

  The only place left to look was the storage room, and the sooner she looked in there the sooner she could get the fuck out of here. But she didn’t want to look there. That was where Ben had died. The walls of the shed were steel sheets, and inside it was filled with files. Basically, it was a large oven. She knew there wouldn’t be a body or any kind of remains; apparently the kid had been so incinerated all they found were ashes. But still. He had died in there in such a horrible way, and she didn’t want to trample all over it.

  The silvery light of the moon glinted off the shards of glass that were left in the window. There was a shape in there. For a split second Rose’s heart stopped. Really, truly stopped beating. There was a shadow in the window. A shadow that looked like a head and shoulders, staring out at her. But it couldn’t be. It must have just been a shape inside the shed. A melted filing cabinet or a broken cupboard. With a sick feeling she realized she’d have to go and look. She took a step forward.

  Then the shadow disappeared. Ducked down out of view.

  There was someone in there. Someone who had been watching her stumble around in the dark. Someone who was hiding now, waiting for her approach. Fuck. She’d never been scared like this. Never.

  But she wasn’t going to run away. She was going in. Into the lair of the monster who had stolen her sister. Her head felt light; her legs were wobbly. But she stepped forward. Letting her feet crunch in the debris now, feeling sure she was going to vomit. Whoever it was had already seen her. Reaching down, she picked up a blackened beam of wood. It splintered her palm, but she held it tight.

  “Let her out,” she said, her voice so loud in the silence it made her body shake. No response.

  One step. Two. Three and she was there. Looking into the black building.

  “The police are on their way. I’m going to smash your fucking head in if you lay a hand on her.” She stepped into the building.

  Straining to see, she looked around at the burned-out filing cabinets. There. There it was in the corner. The shadow. All curled up like it didn’t want to be seen. Not big enough to be a man.

  “Laura?”

  It let out a cry. But it wasn’t Laura’s voice.

  “Come out,” Rose said. And the shadow moved forward, obeying her. The moon lit up the figure’s face. It was Ben. The ghost of Benny Riley.

  Rose screamed, the beam dropping from her hand with a thunk. Ben screamed too. Loud and piercing.

  “What the fuck!” Rose yelled and knelt down on the floor.

  “Leave me alone,” Ben said.

  She reached out before he jerked away; she touched the skin of his forearm. Real, warm, soft flesh. Ben wasn’t a ghost; he was real.

  39

  It had been Mia’s idea to set Frank on Will. But knocking the guy out sure wouldn’t achieve anything. If Laura was still alive, bleeding somewhere, then every second counted. They needed to find her.

  Will was still out cold. They’d moved him into the bathtub. He was slumped there, head thrown backward in a strange angle, his forehead swelling. Looking at his empty face, she wondered how on earth he could have done it. How anyone could actually have gone through with something so evil.

  Frank turned on the cold water.
Not half a second passed and Will’s body jerked and his eyes opened.

  “Rise and shine,” Frank said.

  Will tried to sit up. But he couldn’t. His hands were handcuffed to the rail on the wall.

  “What the fuck is this?”

  “We need you to tell us where Rose’s sister is. Where is Laura?” Her voice didn’t sound scared, which was how she felt; it came out strong and commanding.

  “I told you—I don’t know!”

  His eyes were flicking all around the room. He was really starting to panic now. Good. The cold water inched deeper.

  “I’d love to believe you. I really would,” Frank said.

  “I wouldn’t,” Baz muttered.

  “But you see, we’ve got a bloody mattress. We’ve got the notebook.” He held it up, a washcloth between his fingers and the cover. “It’s even got your drafts inside. Wanted to get the wording just perfect, did you?”

  Mia leaned forward to see the pages, but Frank had already begun wrapping the washcloth around it. Being careful not to touch it with his bare hands.

  “Rose has been staying in that room. Ask her,” he said, eyes still spinning around the room.

  “Mia?” Frank didn’t break eye contact with Will.

  “Nope.”

  “Are you trying to say Rose abducted her own sister?” Frank said sarcastically.

  “I don’t know! Maybe they’re drafts for her articles.”

  “That’s a terrible story, I have to say.”

  “Please,” Mia said. They didn’t have time for the crazy excuses, for the dumb macho back-and-forth. “Tell us where Laura is. She’s just a little kid.”

  Will looked at her, straight in the eyes. “I don’t know.”

  If it hadn’t been for the evidence, she might have believed him. That scared her. To be able to lie like that, to have hurt a child and look at her so innocently. Will must be some sort of psychopath.

  “Ready?” she said to Baz.

  Baz didn’t hesitate. In a single, fluid motion, he took the hair dryer off its hook and threw it into the bath. Will writhed to get away from it, the water splashing all around him, his eyes wide in horror. But nothing happened. Her finger was on the power switch and she hadn’t turned it on.

  “Where is she?” Frank asked.

  Will was panicking now, screaming, “I don’t know!”

  Mia’s shoulders tensed. She didn’t want to have to do this. But she would. She would do anything to save Rose’s little sister.

  She did it. She flicked the power on and off as quick as she could. Will’s agonized scream made the hairs on her arms stick up. It was the worst sound she’d ever heard.

  “Where is she?” Frank yelled.

  40

  It had taken Rose a long time to convince Ben to come with her. To be fair, she had yelled that she was going to smash his head in, so his hesitation was probably warranted. Eventually, after Rose had talked slowly and smoothly, he’d taken her outstretched hand.

  “Will you take me to my mum?” he asked as they walked down the road. He’d already asked her this, but she answered him again anyway.

  “Yep. That’s where we’re going right now.”

  He smiled up at her. “Can’t wait.”

  “When was the last time you saw her?” Rose wanted to know what the fuck was going on. This kid was meant to be dead. She was taking him back to the police station, where, maybe, Laura would be waiting. It had been so stupid not to take her phone with her when she’d walked out. For all she knew, they’d found Laura hours ago. Deep in her heart, she had a dark feeling that they hadn’t.

  “In the car. When she dropped me off.”

  “Your mum took you somewhere?” Rose asked, tugging his hand so he’d cross the road with her. The night air felt exquisitely clean and light in comparison to the rank enclosure of the courthouse.

  “She said it would be fun but it wasn’t. We poured petrol everywhere and it stunk. I got a headache.”

  Rose remembered the fire lighting up the Rileys’ horrified faces. That made no sense.

  “She took me to her friend the nice nun. She said my dad was going to pick me up from there, but he didn’t. So I left and a man gave me a lift in his truck but I couldn’t remember my address. I knew she’d come get me there,” he went on. “She always says that when things are scary I have to go wait for her in the shed and she’ll pick me up once he’s in bed.”

  Rose had no idea what that meant.

  “Once who’s in bed?”

  “Him. I thought he was my dad, but Mummy said that my real dad actually loved me and wouldn’t hurt me and he’d come pick me up.”

  She knelt down then, looked right into his dark brown eyes. Will’s eyes.

  “You just tell everything to the police, and they’ll bring your mum, okay?” she said.

  He nodded, and they climbed the three steps to the station. She pushed open the door and pulled Ben inside after her.

  The air-conditioning of the station felt like it was burning her hot skin. She was feeling woozy, the panic, the fear, the pain in her knees all mixing together in her stomach. She squinted against the bright fluorescent lights.

  Behind the desk the receptionist gaped, recognizing Ben instantly.

  “Where’s Frank? Get him,” Rose said.

  “He went to follow a lead on your sister. Hold tight, okay?” The woman swung around in her chair and opened the security door behind her; Rose could hear her footsteps slapping on the lino as the door swung shut.

  In the light, Ben looked bad. He was much thinner than last time she’d seen him and his skin was smudged gray and black. She probably didn’t look much better. The woman had said Frank had gone to follow a lead. Which meant they hadn’t found Laura yet. The boy smiled up at her, and even though she wanted to cry, even though every part of her was feeling crippling, gushing grief, she smiled back at him.

  * * *

  After the cops had come out and rallied around Ben, she left. She had to get Will. Tell him everything; tell him she’d found his child, but lost her sister. Somehow she was sure he’d make this whole crazy mess make sense.

  Rose scooped through her bag for her key to the tavern. Her hands were covered in ash, a thick line of it under each fingernail. Her left, the one that had picked up the beam, hurt when she put any pressure on it; she hadn’t yet dug the splinters out of her palm.

  The neon beer signs flickered in the windows, making it even harder to find the glinting silver in the dark.

  Eventually she felt the coldness of it between her fingers. She unlocked the front door and quickly locked it again behind her. She noticed the yellow light in the back hallway was on, and it too flickered in front of her. Perhaps it was the exhaustion, or seeing Ben back from the dead, but for one awful second she was sure it was the Colonel.

  She walked slowly toward the hallway, certain that at any second a white figure in an army uniform would jump out. But none did.

  The door to Will’s room was ajar. Looking inside, she saw that he wasn’t in there. Then she heard a voice. Bazza’s voice.

  “I don’t know if he can handle another one.”

  It was coming from her room.

  “He has to tell us.” Mia’s voice.

  What the fuck was going on? She walked into her room. There was no one there. Then she heard Frank’s voice, loudly, through the closed door of the bathroom.

  “What have you done with her, you sick pervert? Where is she?”

  Rose pushed the bathroom door open, not prepared for what was inside.

  Will lay in the bath. But he didn’t look like Will anymore. His hair and eyebrows were singed. His face was swollen and bloody.

  “Stop,” he whispered. “Please.”

 
“What the fuck are you doing?” Her voice came out strange and quiet. Mia turned to her. Her hair was all messed up, and her eyes. There was something wild in her eyes.

  “He’s got Laura!” she yelled. “Where’s Laura?” she screamed at him. Her finger clicked the hair-dryer switch on and off. Will groaned and the lights flickered again.

  “Stop it!” Rose yelled, rushing toward Will. But Frank grabbed her. Held her wrists tightly, screamed right into her face.

  “He’s got your sister!”

  She twisted her arms around, almost breaking his arms to get him off her. She grabbed Will’s face in her hands.

  “Are you all right? Are you okay?”

  He looked at her, but there was no recognition in his eyes. Rose got into the water, the coldness of it shocking on her sweaty skin. His wrists were bleeding where they were handcuffed to the bar. She pulled them trying to get them off. Trying to free him. The water around them was turning black from the ash on her body.

  “Unlock him! He’s done nothing!”

  She could still save him. If she could just get him out of the water, give him CPR, maybe he would be okay. She grabbed his head again; there was still some movement in his swollen eyes.

  “He wrote the notes. There’s blood on the bed,” she dimly heard Frank say.

  “You idiots! You fucking idiots! Let him go.”

  No one moved.

  “Mia!” She looked at her friend right in the eyes. “Call an ambulance. Please.”

  Mia seemed to come to attention. She pulled her phone out of her pocket.

  Thank God. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Rose kissed Will’s lips, but they were slack underneath hers. She tried to lift him. She might have been screaming. Her throat contracting until it hurt.

  “He wrote the notes, Rose,” Baz said quietly. “We’ll find her.”

  “I wrote them,” she said. “Laura’s gone.”

  Will’s face. She couldn’t bear it. The three of them were staring at her in the bright, white light. She couldn’t even see them. She could only see Will. His eyes seemed to focus, but only for a moment.