Lightning flashed.
He was there. He strode forward from around the corner of the house, moving determinedly through the rain.
Her heart beat staccato in her chest, but she stood her ground.
He stopped in front of her, gazing at her, arms slack at his side.
“What do you want from me?” she said.
He didn’t say anything. He simply stared.
“Why are you killing these girls? What does it have to do with Simon?”
Nothing.
Screw this. Why was she trying to talk to him? He clearly wasn’t going to open up to her or reveal to her his dastardly plan. Hell, he was sick in the head. He might not even have a plan.
She fumbled for her phone. Hopefully, Mia had called the police. She’d call Isaac, get him down here. Isaac could keep Ross from going anywhere. He probably even had a gun.
Wait, why wasn’t her phone in her pocket?
She looked down.
Movement at the periphery of her vision.
She looked back up.
Gone. Ross was gone again.
“Ross!” she yelled. “Ross!”
Where had he gone? Behind the house was only the hotel. In front of the house was the road. The hotel was all lit up like a Christmas tree. Ross would have run into the darkness, and the road was freedom, right?
Lorelei took off in that direction.
But just as she was reaching the road, a car sped by, going way too fast on the road.
Lorelei yelled, stumbling back. She managed to right herself, and as the car sped away, she memorized its license plate number.
* * *
“Did you call the police?” Lorelei said. She was standing in the foyer of the house, dripping all over the hardwood.
Mia was across the foyer in the doorway to the living room, eyes wide. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. He’s gone. He got away. I think he might have a car.” Lorelei dashed droplets of water away from her forehead. “Did you call the police?”
Mia shook her head. “No, I just…”
Lorelei sighed. She got out her phone. “I’ll call them.”
“You don’t have to, do you?” said Mia. “You said he was gone.”
“Well, I can’t find him,” said Lorelei. “But I can’t be sure he’s gone.”
“Don’t call,” said Mia. “It won’t be good for business at the hotel.”
Lorelei sighed.
“Just call Isaac,” said Mia. “Isn’t that why he’s here? To help with this sort of thing?”
She called Isaac.
He came down to the house in a poncho he’d gotten from the hotel. He poked around outside for an hour and couldn’t find any sign of Ross anywhere.
When she brought up calling the police to him, he said they’d just keep them all up, and they probably wouldn’t be helpful. It wasn’t as if Ross was still around for them to apprehend. “But it’s up to you, Lor,” he said. “You want to call them, fine.”
She didn’t call the police.
They all went to bed.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
“Look, there’s no way Dylan killed anyone,” said Kendra Ross. She was a pretty woman in her late thirties, and she was sitting on an easy chair opposite a striped couch where Lorelei and Isaac were sitting. Kendra lived outside Woodbury in an isolated neighborhood. If she were hiding Ross, he’d have easy access to the sites where the murders had been committed.
It was the next day. Isaac had set up this meeting with Kendra that morning, and he also had someone running the plates that Lorelei had seen on the car the night before. They were doing their best to track down the evidence on this case, since it all was falling on them to find proof.
“Well, he does have history,” said Isaac. “It was your friends—your sorority sisters—that he killed in the first place.”
“I know, but he didn’t mean that,” said Kendra.
Lorelei licked her lips.
Kendra turned to her sharply. “You don’t agree with me.”
“I think that writing Slut on blindfolds speaks to a good bit of intention,” said Lorelei.
“He had problems, sure,” said Kendra, “but he was never violent. He was the sweetest guy I knew. It was the Prozac, not him, and everyone knows it. The family of Larissa Michaels even got a settlement from the drug company.”
Lorelei had heard about that. She figured the company had paid the family off to stop the bad press. “Listen, what your brother did, it didn’t just come to him. He’d been fantasizing about it for some time. He may have been spontaneously set off by a number of factors that night, including witnessing you with your boyfriend—”
“That didn’t happen,” said Kendra, lifting her chin.
“Your brother indicated that he was very uncomfortable with your level of promiscuity—”
“I wasn’t promiscuous,” said Kendra.
Isaac shot Lorelei a look.
Lorelei decided to shut up. She really wasn’t good at this interview thing, was she?
“We’re just wondering if Dylan has been in contact with you since his escape,” said Isaac.
“No,” said Kendra. “He hasn’t. But if he does get in touch, I’ll do whatever I can to get him back to the facility. How he’s surviving without being there, I don’t even understand. My brother has barely moved in years. He hasn’t spoken to anyone in that long either. And all of that is because of the drugs too.”
“Drugs?” said Isaac. “What do you mean?”
“Whatever the crap is that they prescribed to him while he’s been locked up,” said Kendra. “It did permanent damage. Hell, he’s practically lobotomized.”
“Now, Ms. Ross, I can assure you that no one’s doing that sort of thing to patients anymore.”
“I’m not saying they stuck an icepick in his nose,” she said. “But I am saying that they gave him quite a cocktail of stuff and it did something to his brain. He’s broken. He’s not hurting anyone. He’s not capable of that anymore.”
* * *
“Listen, thanks for coming by again,” said Twila Wood. “After talking to you, I did some more digging on my own into Mr. Ross’s escape, and I believe I may have some news about it.”
They were back in Twila’s office at Stonebook Psychiatric Center. Since they’d been in the area to talk to Kendra, it hadn’t been too much of a bid deal to stop by here and have a quick talk with her as well.
“Well, what do you know?” said Isaac.
“He had a visitor the day he escaped. A visitor he’s never had before. The person signed in under the name of Rachel Thames, but—as I’m sure you’re aware—that couldn’t be her real name.”
“One of his victims was Rachel Thames,” said Lorelei.
“Exactly,” said Twila. “I don’t know why the person who signed in used that name, but it speaks to the idea that she may not be entirely mentally stable herself. She was obviously thumbing her nose at us, doing something transgressive and wanting to see if we’d catch on. Which we didn’t.”
“There are cameras here, though, right?” said Isaac. “We saw them coming in. You have video of her?”
“Unfortunately,” said Twila, “we don’t have any good shots of her on the security cameras. Just a few from the back.” She passed a few glossy black and white stills over to them. All three of the pictures only showed the woman from the back. She was tall, thin, and had long dark hair. Lorelei thought there was something familiar about her, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.
“Hmm,” said Isaac, tapping his chin. “This is very odd.”
“We think it’s likely she had something to do with his escape. At least that’s what the police think. I’ve been in contact with the officer on this case.”
“Oh, there’s someone on the case?” said Isaac.
“You haven’t been talking with him?” said Twila.”
“No,” said Isaac. “But maybe we should. You have a name for us?”
* * *
“Hey, I would have been happy to talk to you guys about all of this,” said Rick Smiley. He was, in fact, smiling. “I didn’t know the FBI was in on this. Honestly, our trail’s gone cold.”
“Well,” said Isaac, “we think he’s involved with some murders across the state line.”
“Damn,” said Rick. “And they told me he wasn’t a risk for recommitting. Said I’d pick him up in a day. Obviously, they don’t know anything.”
“What can you tell us about this woman?” said Isaac.
“Not much,” said Rick. “I’ve got a few blurry security camera stills and some testimony which makes me think she got him out somehow. I don’t think Ross did it on his own.”
“But how’d she get him out?” said Isaac. “Isn’t the facility locked down pretty tight?”
“Should be,” said Rick. “But I guess they didn’t pay a lot of attention to Ross. Thought he was harmless, and they let him sit in a chair in the corner, right in front of the window. What I think happened is that the woman who visited came to the window and was able to get it open or have him open it from the inside. She lured him out with her and took him away.”
“And we don’t have any idea who this person really is?” said Lorelei. “They seriously allow people to sign in under assumed names at that facility?”
“It’s my understanding she had a fake ID,” said Rick.
“Man,” said Isaac. “So, she visits him, tells him the plan, then comes to the window later, gets him out, and disappears. And we have no idea who she is or why she did it?”
“Basically,” said Rick. “Working this case has been, uh, frustrating.”
“Sounds like it,” said Lorelei.
“Look, you find anything out, you give me a shout, right?” said Rick. “I’d love to put this thing to bed.”
“We know he’s in our area,” Lorelei said. “He’s been spotted. Up at Weston College and then at the Woodlands Evergreen Resort.”
“Really?” said Rick. “I guess it’s only a matter of time until someone picks him up then.”
“God, we hope so,” said Isaac.
* * *
“So, you got any thoughts on this woman from the security footage?” said Isaac.
“I don’t know what kind of thoughts I even could have,” said Lorelei. She and Isaac were eating takeout together in her apartment. Nothing exciting. French fries and burgers. She’d bought some for Simon, but he had declined eating with them, saying he needed to study for a test in his science class. He had taken the food and disappeared into his room a while ago. All they heard from him was snatches of whatever music he had on in the background. “I can’t think why anyone would want to sneak him out of there.”
“Right?” said Isaac. “Like, did he have a secret girlfriend?”
“He was practically a vegetable,” said Lorelei. “He couldn’t have.”
“Unless he was faking,” said Isaac.
“But this woman never visited him before,” said Lorelei. “And he couldn’t have had any other way of communicating with her.”
“It’s a weird wrinkle,” said Isaac. “I don’t know what to make of it either.” He’d finished his burger, so he crumpled up the wrapper with one hand.
Lorelei munched on some fries, thinking.
“What?” said Isaac. “I know that look. You’ve got something.”
She laughed. “No, I don’t have anything. It’s only that I got a feeling, as if there was something familiar about that woman.”
“You know who she is?”
“How could I? You can barely make out anything about the way she looks.”
Isaac picked up a fry and pointed at her with it. “Your subconscious is trying to work something out. Something important. It’s manifesting with this feeling.”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, you and the subconscious. I forgot all about this.”
“Hey, the subconscious is a very powerful tool for a profiler,” he said. “You should never ignore it. The human brain is capable of much more than we even know. Its power may very well be unlimited, if we could learn how to access it. It’s only that society places so many boundaries on what we can and can’t think and we’ve trained ourselves to ignore the subconscious, to call it a gut feeling, something unreliable, but it’s only unreliable because we try to interpret it improperly and—”
“Isaac,” she said quietly, a smile playing at her lips. “I’ve heard this before, remember?”
He laughed a little, looking down self-deprecatingly. He ate another fry. “How do you know that my thinking on this hasn’t evolved in the past seventeen years?”
“Has it?”
He met her gaze again. “Not really.” He drew in a breath and let it out with a slow sss-ing noise, all the while holding her gaze. “You know,” he said, and now his voice had gone deeper and softer, “sometimes it feels like I just got frozen in time when you went away.”
She broke the gaze, flustered. She gathered up all the trash on the table, the wrappers and napkins. “Don’t be silly. You’ve changed. You’re different.”
“No, you’re the one who changed,” he said. “You’re a mother now. You’re fierce and determined and… and more beautiful than ever.”
She sank back into her chair, dropping the trash. She peered at him helplessly. “Why are you saying things like that to me?”
“I can’t believe you just stopped drinking,” he said.
She shrugged, feeling self-conscious. “It hasn’t been easy. But it’s for Simon. Honestly, now I realize I could have done it anytime I wanted. I just didn’t because I was wallowing. I was selfish and weak and—”
“Stop.” His hand shot out and seized her wrist. He shook his head at her. “Stop insulting yourself. You’re not perfect, but you’ve been through hell, Lorelei. And for whatever it’s worth, I don’t blame you for anything.”
She turned her head to the side, still looking at him, and inside her feelings were warring with each other. On the one hand, she felt this pain like a deep blue ocean that wanted to drown her, and on the other, she felt a sunny warmth radiating from Isaac. She wanted to go into his warmth, the warmth of forgiveness and goodness and easiness. But she deserved to keep drowning at sea. She tried to pull away from him.
He wouldn’t let go. “Lorelei,” he breathed.
She shook her head. “No,” she whispered fiercely. Tears were gathering in her eyes. “I should pay. I should suffer.”
“You’ve suffered enough,” he said, pulling her towards him.
She wanted to fight—she should fight—but she didn’t. She let him pull her close, pull her into his lap, and when his fingers curved around her cheek, she shut her eyes and waited.
His kiss was just as sweet as it ever had been.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Lorelei woke up in the circle of Isaac’s arms. They were both in her bed, both naked, and her first thought was Simon.
What was Simon going to think of this?
She checked the clock by her bed to see the time and realized she’d slept in, that Simon was already off at school for the day. She got up and went to the door, opening it a crack so that she could look out. She could see a little bit of the kitchen, enough to know that Simon had been up and made breakfast for himself. He never did his own dishes and always left them in the sink.
She shut the door and pressed her back into it. Maybe Simon didn’t even know that Isaac was here. Lorelei peered at the man in her bed. He was asleep and naked, the sheets only up to his waist, leaving his upper torso bare. She smiled as she took him in—his broad shoulders and the fine dark hair that accented his chest. Her Isaac.
She had to admit it was all just as easy as it ever had been between them. They fit together as if there had been no time lost, as if they’d been making love for all these years. He still knew just how to touch her. She still knew the sounds he made when he was close to his climax. She thought of the pleasure, the sweet, easy goodness of him inside her
, his mouth on hers, his hands on her skin, and she sighed, a little tremor going through her.
It had been wonderful. She wanted to take all the little moments of their night together, fold them up and put them in a drawer in her memory to take out and put on whenever she wanted to get lost in happiness.
He said he didn’t blame her. He said she’d suffered enough. He said he loved her.
Last night, in the dark, he’d whispered it over and over as they moved together.
She’d said it back.
Maybe… maybe everything could just be that simple. She could have Isaac back after all this time…
But no.
No, life wasn’t like that. Good things didn’t happen out of the blue. She shouldn’t trust this. This was too good and too nice to be real.
She turned away from him.
Suddenly, the loud sound of a cell phone ringing cut through the air. It wasn’t her ring tone.
Isaac sat up straight in bed, eyes wide. He looked around. “That’s my phone,” he rasped.
“Yeah,” she said.
He grimaced. “Where are my pants?”
She picked them up off the floor and handed them to him.
He went through the pockets and pulled out his phone. He put it to his ear. “Dean here.” He paused, listening. “You do? Really? That’s great. Uh, so who does it belong to?” Another pause. “No, that doesn’t mean anything to me. Do me a favor and do some digging into him. See what you can find out. For now, though, you got an address?… Great. Can you text that to me?… Thanks. Thanks very much.” He hung up the phone.
Lorelei realized she wasn’t wearing any clothes and felt self-conscious about it. The seventeen years ensuing between the last time she and Isaac had been together hadn’t been especially kind to her figure. To be fair, Isaac was a little softer than he used to be as well, but he was still incredibly attractive. Plus, he was hers. She didn’t so much care what he looked like. Other things were a lot more important. Still, she snatched up an oversized t-shirt from her hamper and threw it on. “Who was that?”
“That plate you got?” he said. “The one that sped off after you saw Ross?”
Child of Mine: a psychological thriller Page 20
