Pray for the Girl

by Joseph Souza

  “Jesus!” I say. “What I don’t get is your father’s involvement in all this. Why the selfie with Iggy?”

  “My father’s an asshole, if you must know the truth.”

  “There’s being an asshole and then there’s murder.”

  “How do you think we got away with drinking and smoking so much weed? As long as we kept a low profile, my father always looked the other way.”

  “But why was he involved in that fire, and why leave Iggy in the diner to die?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe he was trying to frame that loser for everything bad that had happened in this town.”

  I was afraid to ask the next question. “Where did you get the weed?”

  “I have no idea. Brynn took care of that,” she says, sliding down the boulder. “Said she had a source.”

  Had my father been selling it to his granddaughter all along? Or had she been stealing it from him when he wasn’t looking? Maybe that’s what I want to believe. Either way, it reflects poorly on both of them. He’d kept bags of it around the house, ready at his disposal and easy to find. I couldn’t open a drawer or cabinet without discovering a bag of it stashed somewhere.

  “I need to get back home,” she says.

  “Can I give you a lift?”

  “No, I ‘borrowed’ my mother’s car,” she says, making quotation marks with her fingers. “My dad’s busted me a few times already for driving without a license, but he never follows through with it.”

  “He doesn’t care?”

  “It’s not that he doesn’t care. It’s that he cares too much. He’ll do anything if I’ll agree to be his princess once again, including bailing me out of trouble. Of course I’ll never love that jerk.”

  “Why not?”

  “He left my mother when I was a little girl and then hardly ever visited me. My mother’s told me all the shitty things he’s done to us throughout the years, including not sending her child support and harassing her over the phone.”

  “Have you ever talked to your dad about this?”

  “Why should I? He makes up these lies that my mom shut him out of our lives and that she poisoned me against him, but he’s lying,” she says. “Look, I gotta go.”

  I watch as she walks toward the bank. I’m about to follow when I see someone coming out of the woods. The girl freezes when she sees who it is. Then she looks back at me with a frightened expression—as if I’m the one who should be afraid.

  32

  I SLIDE DOWN THE ROCK TO SEE WHO’S WALKING TOWARD US. IT’S A man, and he’s wearing a blue uniform and cap. Normally, I’d be happy to see a police officer in this situation, but considering that it’s Dalton, I move behind the boulder and grip the pepper spray in my pocket. The pregnant river laps a few inches from my feet as I try to keep myself between Dalton and this rock.

  “Come out from behind there, Lucy. Everything’s going to be all right,” Dalton shouts in his friendliest Officer Joe voice. “What are you doing down here with my daughter?” Upon reaching her, he places his hand around the girl’s neck and squeezes until she winces in pain.

  “Stay away from me, Dalton.” I pull the pepper spray out of my pocket, careful to keep it hidden behind the rock. Although it won’t protect me against his gun, it might be my only hope of surviving this ordeal.

  “I thought you and I were going to have coffee together and talk about reopening the diner?”

  “I’m not having anything with you after what you’ve done.”

  “What did you do?” He turns to his daughter. “Did you open your big mouth?”

  “I swear I didn’t say anything. She threatened to go to the police if I didn’t meet her here.”

  “Leave her out of this, Dalton. I know you took that selfie of Iggy and set The Galaxy on fire.”

  “Oh, Lucy.” He shakes his head sadly. “I did it all for you. For us, actually. Part of the reason I arranged for The Galaxy to burn down was so that you’d come back to Fawn Grove and then take over the diner. That way we could be together.”

  “There was never an us.”

  “Burning that failing diner solved a lot of problems for a lot of people in this town. The fact that Iggy had to take the fall for everything was an unfortunate consequence, because he seemed like a decent guy.”

  “So you admit that you snapped that photograph?”

  “Even if I did take that loser’s picture, there’s no evidence to prove that I did it, other than my daughter’s word, and she’s not going to say anything. Right, honey?”

  “Whatever,” the girl says, rolling her eyes.

  “Did you know that when you blow a photograph up many times over you can see objects in the victim’s pupil? Objects that were right in front of the victim at the time it was taken.”

  “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Lucy. These kids were supposed to just lay low and party like when I was a kid. Harmless fun, right? Be like every other dumb-ass teen who grew up in this depressing armpit of a town. Instead, it turned them into little monsters.”

  “Speak for yourself,” his daughter says.

  “I am speaking for myself,” he replies.

  “That’s right, because your father was one of the most feared bullies in this town when he was a kid,” I say. “It’s no wonder your daughter is scared of you, Dalton.”

  “My wife poisoned Brandy against me until she believed I was the devil. She fed her lies upon lies with her toxic personality. This was the only way I knew how to gain my daughter’s trust and prove that I still loved her.” He stares down at Brandy. “Isn’t that right, hon?”

  “That’s not real love,” Brandy says, tears flowing down her cheeks. “Love is being there for me when I needed you most—and you never were.”

  “Why don’t you go back to the car and wait for me. I’ll be right up.” He releases her neck and pushes her firmly toward the path leading to the woods. “And don’t try to get away in your mother’s car, baby doll. I disabled the battery.”

  Brandy sprints up the steep bank and then disappears into the woods. Dalton watches for a few seconds. When he’s certain she’s out of sight, he walks toward me. With practiced ease, he pulls out his service revolver and holds it down by his side. Only the boulder separates the two of us. Behind me the river roils and bubbles.

  “We had to do it, Lucy. To protect our kids and make sure they didn’t get into trouble. God knows it was the least I could do for my daughter after all I’ve put her through with that mother of hers.”

  “Who’s we?”

  “We. Us. We made it look like one of the Afghanis did it. I had no idea about stoning until she explained how these Afghani savages punished their women.”

  “Maybe the real savages have been right here in Fawn Grove all along,” I say, holding the pepper spray below the rock so he can’t see it.

  “How would you even know, never having children yourself? You don’t know what it’s like to be a parent and have to deal with all their messy issues.”

  “Just because I don’t have kids doesn’t mean I condone what you’ve done.”

  “I really like you, Lucy. I never intended for you to get involved in all this.”

  “Ha! I would have never settled for a creep like you, anyway.”

  “You liked me well enough to kiss me that day at the bus station.” He rests his arms on top of the boulder. In his right hand sits the revolver. “If you’d just minded your own business, we could have been good for each other.”

  “You would have treated me just like you treated all the other kids you bullied growing up, including Jaxon.”

  “Jaxon?” He laughs. “How do you know about him?”

  “I know you treated him like dirt.”

  “Sure, but Jaxon deserved most of the beatings he got. The kid never knew when to stay down. It was like that sissy wanted me to keep pounding on him.”

  “Jaxon was no sissy,” I say, fiercely defending that innocent boy. “It was Nadia who told you about the practice of
stoning. She called you when that girl got hurt, and you took care of the situation. Then you made it look like something else.”

  “Bravo, Lucy, you figured it all out. You’re a genius detective,” he says. “The truth is, Nadia and I can’t stand each other, and never could, but we acted in the best interest of our kids.”

  “The boy was going to tell everyone what happened, but then you took action before he could say anything.”

  “What did you expect me to do? Taylor was going to rat those kids out, including my daughter, and I couldn’t let that happen.” He looks genuinely pained. “I admit that everything spiraled out of control, but we had no other choice.”

  “Makes me glad I never had kids,” I say, trying to delay the inevitable.

  He shakes his head wistfully. “It’s amazing what we’ll do for these spoiled brats of ours. As they say, blood really is thicker than water.” He rests his chin on his gun-toting hand, which is resting on the boulder. “You’re so damned beautiful, Lucy. It pains me to have to do this to you.”

  “But there’s more fish in the sea, right?”

  “Not in this town. Fawn Grove’s like a pond that no one stocks, and then the water keeps getting more polluted with each passing day.” He lifts the gun and steadies it on top of the rock. “It’s too bad. I’ll never again meet anyone quite like you.”

  “I take it you planted evidence on that Afghani hothead to make it look as if he killed the boy?”

  “That scumbag’s probably a terrorist anyway. And that confrontation you had with him helped convince my chief that he was a danger to the community,” he says. “Staging those two deaths helped Nadia as much as it helped me.”

  “And how is that?”

  “Her agency got additional funding from the feds. And the deaths of those two kids helped convince more townspeople to join our anti-immigrant crusade.”

  “You wanted to drive them out of Fawn Grove?”

  “Ideally, but once they settled here, that proved harder than expected. We hoped to at least cut back on all the welfare and benefits these leeches received. We have people in our own community who are hurting and can’t find work. It makes me sick to my stomach that we’re helping these freeloaders over our own citizens.”

  “So you two were working both sides of the coin?”

  “It didn’t start out that way. But that’s how the world works, Lucy. And burning down that failing diner was a way to close down that dump and prevent her father from having another heart attack. Then I figured I could persuade you to move back to Fawn Grove and resurrect The Galaxy.”

  “I’m going to the state police with this information and turn you in, Dalton.”

  “Is that so?” He shakes his head as if amused. “I’m afraid I can’t let that happen.”

  “I thought you cared about me?”

  “I do care about you. That’s the shame in all this. I let you live when I directed those kids to bury you in that hole. I thought that by scaring you like that, you’d come to your senses and stop snooping around in this case. I thought that might scare you enough to come running back into my arms.”

  “So it was you who wrote that message on my windshield?”

  “Actually, it was Brynn who came up with the idea. That girl’s as cold as they come.”

  “And you ordered those kids to scrawl threatening messages on my inner biceps.”

  “Don’t you see? I cared about you. I was trying to protect you from all this nasty business.”

  I gaze over his shoulder as if someone is coming. The expression on his face changes, but he doesn’t bite until I jump up and down and start waving my free hand around. He looks confused as I shout for this imaginary person to come over. Dalton turns his head to see who’s approaching, and when he does I take out the pepper spray. Once he turns back to me, I shoot it into his face. His gun goes off, and a bullet whizzes over my head. Dalton cries out in pain, staggering back from the rock while frantically rubbing his burning eyes. He holds out the gun and points it at an undefined target in front of him.

  “Where are you, Lucy Abbott? Don’t try to run from me, or you’ll make it worse.” He fires off another round, and the bullet ricochets off the boulder. “You can’t escape from me. I’ll find you one way or another.”

  I duck behind the rock, realizing that I stand no chance of sprinting past him. Not with these flimsy legs of mine. The pepper spray will soon wear off and he’ll be able to see me trying to get away. I’m too far removed to disable him using the stun gun. I turn and see the fast-moving river, and I realize that it’s my only hope. But can I survive in those frigid waters?

  I rip off my jacket and then remove my boots. Wading in, I can’t tell how cold the water is because of the prosthetics. I take a deep breath, say a quick prayer, and dive in. The temperature of the water hits me like a sack of bricks, and I can feel all my muscles tightening up. I struggle to breathe as the current pulls me downstream. Having spent many hours rehabbing in the pool at Walter Reed, I’m a very good swimmer. But swimming in a fast, ice-cold river is altogether different from swimming in a warm pool with physical therapists all around you.

  My muscles struggle to cope as I get swept downstream. The thought of drowning terrifies me, and I start to flail about. I cry out for help, but no one is there to hear me. I somehow manage to move my arms and legs, barely keeping myself afloat. Gunshots go off in the distance, but I keep treading water, mindless of what’s to come. My body’s shivering, and I know I don’t have much time before hypothermia sets in. I need to find a way out of this river before it kills me.

  Trees and bushes stream past my outstretched arms. Suddenly I hear someone calling out my name. When I turn, I see Dalton in the water fifty yards behind me. My head goes under, and when it pops back up, I realize that my wig is still clinging to my head. A tree branch extends out over the riverbank. Desperate and running out of energy, I paddle frantically toward it and raise my right arm. The branch smacks into my palm as my lower body propels downriver, threatening to take the rest of me with it. I somehow manage to hold on until I pull myself up. Then I inch toward land, making my way forward until my feet touch down on the muddy bank.

  “Lucy!” Dalton shouts as he sweeps past me.

  My entire body is shivering in an attempt to keep warm, but at least Dalton’s no longer a threat. I drag myself up the steep bank until I’m standing in an empty meadow. I’m trembling uncontrollably as I trudge forward on false legs. Off in the distance, I see a sprawling new housing development. Dalton shouts out my name, and when I turn back, I see that he’s hanging from a branch fifty feet downstream. He slides his hand along the slender limb, working his way toward shore, desperate to catch up to me.

  I walk as fast as I can toward the row of townhouses, trying not to panic. Soaked to the bone, and without footwear, it’s a slow and arduous march. Dalton continues to call out my name, a note of desperation in his voice. I turn and to my horror see him limping in my direction. He’s wet and exhausted but determined to get his hands on me before I reach someone and spill my guts about what happened.

  I pick up the pace, but he’s quickly gaining ground. Unfortunately, my legs won’t move any faster, and I realize that he’s going to catch up with me. Then he’ll try to kill me in this open field, where no one will bear witness to my death. He shouts my name, now only a few feet behind. I’m out of breath, cold, and exhausted, but I keep churning these tired legs as best I can. I feel his arms wrap around my waist and his shoulder ram into my back. He tackles me to the ground until he’s sitting on my stomach. River water drips onto my face as he pins my wrists to the grass and holds them there. I struggle but remain helpless beneath his weight.

  “I loved you, Lucy.” He’s sobbing as he places his unshaven wet cheek against mine. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Please don’t do this.”

  “Why, Lucy? Especially when you knew how much I cared about you?”

  “We can work it out, Dalton. You don’t ha
ve to kill me.”

  “I have no other choice,” he sobs.

  “I swear I won’t tell anyone. I’ll go back to New York City and you’ll never hear from me again.”

  “It’s too late for that,” he says. “It’s either you or me now.”

  He lets go of my wrists and wrings his hands around my throat. Turning his face, his cold lips press lightly against mine. I reach down with my free hand, grab the handle of the boning knife in my pocket, and pull it out. His hands tighten around my throat as he continues to shower me with kisses.

  “Good-bye, Lucy.”

  “I wasn’t always Lucy,” I manage to say.

  “You’ll always be Lucy Abbott to me.”

  “I have something to tell you,” I gasp. “I was once Jaxon Ford.”

  “Jaxon?” His hands ease up, and he lifts his face to study me. “What are you saying?”

  “I was once Jaxon, that little boy you used to bully,” I croak, gripping the knife. “But I’m Lucy now. A woman, Dalton.”

  “No! That can’t be.” He looks shocked, his face inches from mine, his hands still wrapped around my neck. “Jaxon died overseas in combat.”

  “No, he didn’t die. He lost his legs in a roadside bombing and then became Lucy Abbott.” With all my might, I thrust the knife into his back below the collarbone.

  His face contorts in horror and he howls, his hands tightening around my throat. I struggle to pull the knife out as I gasp for air.

  “You’re lying!” he wails.

  “I swear to you I’m not. Iggy rode with you to Manhattan and then changed back into Lucy.”

  “ No.”

  “Yes, Dalton. I played you.”

  I rear back and stab him again, this time closer to his heart. Dalton screams in agony, his hands locked in a death grip around my throat. I can barely breathe now and am close to passing out. Kicking my legs, I manage to pull the knife out of his back and stab him one last time near the neck. My vision fades to black as I feel his hands begin to loosen around my windpipe. A few seconds pass before his body topples over my face. I turn my head and cough violently, pushing Dalton’s convulsing body off me. Then I lie on the grass for what seems like forever, gasping for air, until someone comes over and kneels by my side.