by Robin Mahle
Katie tilted her head. “That would mean we’d be working together almost exclusively. I think you’d tire of me always hanging around. Home, work. We’d never be apart.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?”
Genuine. That was one trait in many that she loved about Marshall, but he had hidden meaning beneath his words. A meaning that she wasn’t sure he even picked up on. It had become so automatic, he probably didn’t know it was there. Protection. He had engulfed her in it for such a long time and while it was certainly well-meaning, she just might disappear entirely if it continued. She would simply become a part of him and lose herself.
“Oh, I think eventually we would get on each other’s nerves. Besides, you know how much I love the research. You’re the best investigator I know and I think that work is best left to the professionals.” She stood up to leave, another cramp piercing her stomach. This time, a noticeable flinch ensued.
“It still hurts?”
“Not really. I promise, I’m fine.” Katie moved toward the door. “I’m going in later today for more blood work. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
She was halfway into the corridor when Marshall spoke.
“Hey.”
Katie turned.
This time, his voice dropped to a whisper. “I love you.”
She smiled, her lips mouthing the words. “I love you too.”
The big screen televisions in the bar were showing the Chargers football game, but Edward hadn’t taken much notice. He wasn’t much for football, and since he was from Colorado, even if he was, his support would go to the Broncos. He preferred hockey and that was about as likely to be shown in a bar in San Diego as Canadian basketball.
After a few failed attempts, he managed to get the attention of the bartender and raised his empty bottle of beer, signaling he was ready for another.
A quick nod from the guy behind the bar and he was off again, tending to the other patrons who had bellied up to it on this cool Thursday night.
“You get me one too?” Shaun Hudson, a curly-haired, blonde kid who had latched onto Edward in recent months pulled up a stool.
“I didn’t think you were gonna show. It’s been an hour.”
“Sorry, man. Got caught up at work.” He waved the bartender over. “Mich Ultra, please.”
“Sure. And you were the Guinness?” He pointed to Edward.
“Yeah.”
“Sorry about the wait. I’ll get ‘em now.” The man disappeared behind the large glass display of liquor bottles and beer taps.
“Shit, man. I asked him for another beer like ten minutes ago,” Edward said.
“It’s ladies’ night. Place is always packed. Must be nice to get drinks for a friggin’ buck just because you got a vag.” Shaun cast a glance to the three women hovering at the end of the bar.
“Yeah, well, you need them to keep drinking, my friend, if you stand any chance of picking off one of those three.”
“Fuck off, dude.” Shaun nudged an elbow in Edward’s direction.
They laughed the way men do when they think they’re being clever.
“Seriously, though, man, you got my shit?” Edward was finished with the niceties. He had business to tend to.
Shaun tossed a look at the bar entrance. “In my car. I still don’t know what you need with that chick’s file. I copied all of it, but I gotta tell you, at first glance, I didn’t see nothin’ that would be worth anything.”
“Don’t you worry about it. I got my reasons.” Edward took a swig of the beer that had finally arrived.
“She’s cool and all, but you know what happened to her, right? Been through a lot of shit and she’s got that cop-boyfriend.” Shaun poured half the bottle of beer down his gullet. “Guess it’s none of my business. We square now?”
Shaun had come to know Edward through a mutual set of friends. Edward was nice to the awkward and lanky twenty-something since they had met almost a year ago. Since then, Shaun had sought the advice of the older, more experienced student. Career advice and, more often than not, advice on how to handle the fairer sex, something with which the kid had little to no experience. But it was Edward’s help on a more recent matter that Shaun had found himself indebted to the man. A situation had arisen in which Shaun required some financial assistance. Edward was all too willing to help out, in return for something of substantially more value to him than money.
Shaun was about to deliver the goods. He worked part time at the school, in the registration office, and pulled the file of a certain someone with whom Edward had desired to become further acquainted, if he stood any chance of taking her from her cop-boyfriend.
“We’re square.” Edward retrieved his wallet and pulled out a twenty.
“Dude, I just got here. You’re leaving?”
“Got a date tonight.” His phone was sitting on the bar top and he quickly checked the time. “I’m late as it is. Where’s your car? I wanna get the file.”
Edward slicked back his dark hair and tucked it behind his ears. The loose waves grazed his shoulders. If he was going for a Middle-Earth slash Game of Thrones look, he’d achieved it. The girls always liked his thick locks, especially when he wore them long. He figured it must have been a “bad boy” kind of thing that they liked. Whatever the reason, it served his purpose.
The knock on the door could only be coming from Lindsay. Right on time. Edward liked her well enough, for a good lay at least. Other than that, he held no real affections for the younger girl. The woman he’d wanted was, as of yet, unattainable, but that would change soon enough.
He’d followed Katie’s story on the news and something about her demeanor, her strength had spoken to him in a way he’d never experienced before. It was an interview she’d done shortly after she’d gotten out of the hospital that had moved him to take the necessary steps ensuring he could be nearer to her.
So far, Edward couldn’t bring himself to do much more than say hello on occasion and ask a question or two about her work. He’d tried to engage her on a deeper level, but she was always rushing out of class. He hadn’t really yet found the nerve to talk to her. The other night, as he walked alongside her after class, he’d finally managed to ask her out for a drink, just a friendly coffee, but she’d turned him down.
Still, he hadn’t lost hope yet. After his date tonight, he’d planned on studying the file Shaun had pilfered from the school. He didn’t know how he would use it exactly. Maybe just find her weaknesses – grades or whatever – and use them to his benefit. He regretted having to resort to such measures, but Katie had left him little choice.
Edward opened the door to a smiling Lindsay, standing at the top of the landing. His second-floor apartment was small, but located near the school and the girls didn’t mind it so much. Of course, the sort of girls he went out with weren’t as discerning as his Katie. “Come in, please.”
He removed her coat and took in her slender figure, which was tucked nicely inside the short black dress. “You look very nice.”
She turned to face him, looking seductive and needing to please, the way a young woman who hadn’t quite found herself yet often did. “I bought it today, just for our date.”
On return to Edward’s apartment, after yet another expensive dinner, he’d anticipated a little foreplay, then a roll in the sack, but as he began to kiss Lindsay, she started to pull away.
“I’m sorry. I really should be getting home. It’s late and I’ve got an early class tomorrow. I had such a great time tonight, Eddie, really.” She began to reach for her coat, which lay tossed over the back of the small grey sofa in his living/dining room.
“You’re leaving?” He expressed his displeasure at this unexpected turn of events by placing his hand over the coat, blocking her from retrieving it.
“I know. I’m so sorry, babe, but I can’t afford to let my grade slip any further in that class, and I’ve got to get some sleep tonight.”
He removed his hand from the coat, but reached fo
r her arm, squeezing it tighter than he realized.
“Ouch. Eddie, that hurts. What’s wrong with you?” Lindsay’s face was masked in surprise and more than a little discomfort.
He quickly released her arm. “I’m sorry. Please, I—didn’t mean to…” Edward yanked her hair back and pressed his lips hard against hers, working to part her lips with his tongue.
She pushed him back and he nearly stumbled over the dining chair. “What the fuck are you doing, you fucking asshole?” Lindsay brushed past him and got to the door in a matter of seconds.
Edward regained his footing and wasn’t far behind. He pressed his hand against the partially opened door, slamming it shut and looked down at her. His frame towered over hers. “By the way, it’s Edward, you fucking bitch.” He pulled the door open and stood aside.
5
THE SCENE WHERE the woman had been found the other day by a field hand had already been secured when Nick arrived. Small flags marking the spot where she had been located dotted the area. The woman’s body had been moved to the coroner’s office and what remained was an imprint of her small frame and flags marking the trail in which she’d been dragged off the main highway.
Word was spreading quickly about the so-called “Highway Hunter,” and this victim had fit the bill. The other victim had also been placed in a manner that left exposure to the elements.
No clothes, face up, and a V carved from the chest to the navel and back up again. In the center of the carving lay flowers; dandelions, to be exact. The victim’s fingers were laced together over the chest and the dandelions placed firmly between the thumb and forefinger.
Those little details had been left out of the media and Nick wondered, had they known about them, might they have tagged the killer with another, more suitable nickname? It only took a matter of days for them to coin him the “Highway Hunter,” although he attributed the quick headline to the fact that it had otherwise been a slow news day in Virginia and the national media picked up the sound bite with ferocity.
The Richmond woman had last been seen at a gas station a few miles from where she’d been found. Nick was still waiting on the surveillance video, but the local police had been having trouble with the proprietor of the station. It seemed the owner didn’t want to admit his facility might not be as safe as one would expect. Standing here now, looking down on the flattened spot shaped like a body, he knew this case was going to get much worse before it got better and if he had to be the one to put pressure on the owner, then that was the way it would have to be. It was becoming apparent this latest victim wasn’t going to be the last.
After spending the better part of the morning standing in sticky grass, studying every inch of the scene, Nick now sat at his makeshift work station in the field office, his laptop displaying the FBI seal bouncing around the screen like a pinball; the screensaver. He stared at the monitor as he replayed the conversation with the coroner, regarding the latest victim. They still needed the DNA tests to come back, but it appeared as though a similar implement had been used to make the carving and it also appeared that the body had been located somewhere else for several hours before being dragged to the spot where she was discovered. The wound had coagulated in much the same way as the previous victim’s in Richmond. Nick figured the killer didn’t want to soil his vehicle with blood.
“Did I catch you at a bad time? You look like you’re in deep thought.” Agent Dwight Jameson popped his head through the doorway of the conference room where Nick still sat in silence.
“No, not at all. Come on in.” Nick’s team had arrived as scheduled. He had worked with Jameson for the better part of six months and had developed a good rapport with the man.
Agent Jameson had also proven to be a good friend in recent weeks since this case was assigned, although his name always seemed to bring to mind the whiskey brand, or maybe it was just that Nick hadn’t had a drink in eight weeks and was partial to the Irish malt. “What’s going on?”
Agent Jameson dropped a file onto the table. “It’s the surveillance video from the gas station in Richmond.”
Nick swelled with excitement. “Great! Let’s see what we’ve got.” He opened the file and found a small flash drive. “I swear if they make these things any smaller, we won’t be able to see them anymore!” He plugged the tiny silver square into the USB drive and waited for it to load. “Have you seen this yet?”
“No. Just got it in from Richmond police.” Jameson pulled up a chair.
Nick waited patiently for the files to load. He spotted the video file icons and clicked on the first one. “These are labeled by the time of day?”
Jameson glanced at the screen. “Doesn’t look like it. Damn. It’s going to take a while to go through these. Why don’t you copy them over to me and I’ll start looking at the back half and you can take the front half.”
Agent Jameson left and Nick began dividing the task.
“Okay.” Jameson reemerged with his laptop. “Let’s do this.”
Nick welcomed the help and as he began opening file after file, reviewing the gas station’s surveillance of the prior three days before the victim was discovered, he hoped he would find something of value. He had a name and the woman’s family had already been notified. According to the husband, Carla Atkins had left for work as per usual the day she disappeared. He’d filed a missing person’s report the following day with local authorities. Carla’s credit card hadn’t been used again after filling up her Chevy minivan the morning she went missing.
As he uploaded each file and watched the stillness of the cameras focused on various areas of the station, he began to think of Katie. How she’d asked for some insight into this current investigation. Okay, so it wasn’t for her exactly, but for that guy, Aguilar, he’d met in Rio Dell.
It brought to mind how strong she’d been. How she refused to take a back seat in finding Hendrickson, even if it meant risking her safety. Nick admired her greatly for that and for what she’d suffered through, coming out perhaps even stronger than before. He’d given her a chance, an offer to take her skills and talent to the next level, but in retrospect, it had probably been too soon to propose such an offer.
He wondered now, though, if she was ready. If she might reconsider. Time offered distance and allowed healing. It wasn’t often he came across such a determined individual that had the knack for developing theories and testing out those theories with tremendous detail.
“Hey, I think I’ve got something here.” Agent Jameson turned his laptop toward Nick.
“What’s that?” He was pulled back into the moment and turned to see what Jameson had found.
“That’s the minivan, right?”
“I do believe it is.” Nick patted the agent’s shoulder, pleased with the man’s attention to detail. “And I believe that,” he pointed to a dark spec in the black and white image off in the distance, although it would require the computer analysts to scrutinize the video, “may be our suspect.”
Once again, Katie found herself sitting in a blue paper gown on a table lined with paper. She shifted uncomfortably as her feet dangled beneath her, the blood rushing to her toes, her feet turning purple.
Today would see the results of the final blood test to determine if treatment had worked and if Katie was officially out of danger. The past week had been harder than she could ever have imagined. Dreams of sitting in a rocking chair in a dark room with a bundle of blankets haunted her more than once. In one of the dreams, she had pulled down the blankets to reveal a heap of body tissue, hair, blood, and tiny fingers; a malformed ball of human bits and pieces.
The way her mind worked often frightened Katie. It found ways to bring forth her deepest fears, forcing her to face them head on. What she had discovered, however, was that those fears could be conquered and she could learn from them. Dr. Reyes had once told her that it was Katie’s gift and she should not squander it. Most who faced their darkest secrets, fears, and desires would choose to run from them. Katie’s mind
and soul would not allow her to run, at least, not for very long.
“Okay, Katie. I’ve got the results back.” Dr. Johnson entered the room, seemingly pleased with what she had read on the chart. She raised her head and cast a pleasant smile in Katie’s direction. “Everything is back to normal. You will be just fine.”
These were words Katie was glad to hear, but reverberated the single thought that continued to trouble her; she would not be able to conceive naturally. “What are the risks that this could happen again?”
“It is, of course, possible, Katie, especially considering the extent of the damage. However, I’m reluctant to suggest removal of one or both of your tubes. I just don’t feel it’s necessary. I would suggest, though, that you remain on the pill until such time as you and your partner are ready to conceive. We can then talk about IVF or other options that are available. On the off-chance it occurs again, we can discuss preventative measures.” Dr. Johnson placed her hand on Katie’s knee. “I am sorry you have to deal with this, but it isn’t the end of your future hopes of becoming a mother. Now why don’t you get dressed and we’ll get you out of here.”
Dr. Johnson left Katie alone to dress.
A mother. Before this, she had rarely considered the possibility, although the scenario had seemed much more viable in another life. A life that involved Spencer—and Sam.
If she was being honest with herself, motherhood seemed a distant dream, unattainable to one like her. She wasn’t even sure now if that was what she really wanted. Motherhood meant love, of course, but it also meant pain and possibly loss, and Katie wasn’t sure she had any more room for those feelings.
The night sky had already shrouded the sun and the clouds obscured the stars as the tide rolled in. It was Marshall who had greeted her at the door on her arrival home and it was Marshall who would be the one to offer comfort. As always.
Katie was relieved that he was home and gladly returned his greeting.
