The Remaining Sister

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The Remaining Sister Page 21

by Leanne Davis


  She shuddered and Chet remained quiet, staring at her. She finally added the most horrifying clue. “I’m also missing two pairs of underwear. One is a black and the other is white with little, black polka dots. I know my undergarments. They aren’t lost in the wash and I didn’t forget them at your house, before you try to tell me that. No. I distinctly remember when I last grabbed some stuff, and they were right here.” She pointed to the exact spot in her drawer she had last seen them. “It isn’t a case of remembering the polka dots either, it simply was where they were. That’s the drawer where my underwear goes and I know what I own.”

  Chet let her go to follow her inside her bedroom and she rooted around her underwear drawer. “He’s fucking around with me and my stuff. But no one believes me.”

  Crossing his arms over his chest, Chet replied, “I believe you.”

  Chloe shut her eyes and blew out some air. “I want you to stay here. And tomorrow I’m going to put my car in the garage and take your car with me to work. I want you to stay here, just to see if anyone tries anything. And then I’m going to have someone drive me home so we can stake this place out and see if they come back. Okay?”

  “I figured when I heard your voice you wouldn’t be staying here alone. I didn’t think you’d want us to stay here, however.”

  “I know you’ll get bored, but are you game?”

  “Yeah. Sure, if it helps you.”

  “I think he comes here whenever I’m gone. Who knows how often he came while I was staying with you? Maybe every day. I have no idea. But I intend to fucking find out. I’m done with crying and hiding. I’m missing out on my own life. This is my house. I refuse to be scared here. You know what’s ironic? I keep a gun in my office at work. It’s locked in my safe. I think I’ll bring it home.”

  His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You do?”

  She nodded. “I do. Got a problem with that? I keep it there in case we are ever held up. Customer safety. But now? My home is under assault. I’m being threatened. With violence. Violence that was already cruelly directed at my loved one. The one and only person in the whole world who looked like me.”

  “And a crime that was undiscovered, unnoticed, and not even publicized has been blown wide open. The body, and the fact Ebony was murdered, along with all the grisly details of her final letter and the missing money… Someone’s cage is being rattled. Their crime is being exposed. They’re worried about new evidence leading to them being caught. Now I think they’re letting me know that.”

  “I wonder why? Just to scare you? Why not just stay quiet and let the police assume whoever murdered Ebony is actually gone? Not around here anymore. A tourist or a trucker passing through who murdered her and left her for dead. Why let it be known that it’s someone, who is still here?”

  “Because of the note and the missing money. That’s not random. It wasn’t an accident. No. It had to be someone who knew Ebony and often interacted with her.”

  “Any ideas who that could be?”

  “None. I’ve wracked my brain and couldn’t find one unusual person in her life. Or someone who noticed her and tried to get her attention or started hanging around her more often. I would know, Chet. We spent so much time together. If someone started giving her unusual but notable interest, even if it were just a mild attraction, first of all, I’d notice it and second, she’d tell me about it.”

  “So you think they just started hassling you?”

  “Yes. I do. Whoever was wearing that mask meant to scare the living daylights out of me. And it almost worked. But to what end? Why?”

  “I don’t think killing someone and leaving them in a swamp is the kind of person who gets motivated by logic or decency.”

  She smiled softly, despite the grim reality of their conversation. “Good point. I believe you’re right. Are you okay to do this? Stay here, I mean?”

  “Yeah. I’m good. Just bring your gun home.”

  “You’re not against having them?”

  “No. Not now. I’ve never needed one before but it sounds like you do now. Maybe you should keep it on you at all times. As a precaution.”

  Wilting, Chloe fell onto her bed. “You know the most gruesome part? When I bought it, Ebony got so mad at me and kept nagging me to get rid of it. Didn’t like me even keeping it in the safe. She believed it would hurt someone by accident before we could wield it against any intruder or robber at the café. Who knew she’d end up being the murder victim?”

  “No one ever thinks they will be. You know, however, that someone did kill your sister, who looked exactly like you.”

  “And that’s why I have to find out who it is. Somehow. I can’t go on until I know what happened. I can’t go on without knowing the truth. And Chet?”

  He stared at her, waiting.

  She held in a breath. “I think, someday, I’ll want to move on. I didn’t feel that way at first. Now, I can see flashes of a happier future and I can envision a time where I might want to. And I think it’s because I met you. I mean, when I really and truly met you, not just passed by you in the kitchen. Do you know what I mean?”

  He nodded and pulled her closer to him. “I know what you mean.”

  They huddled there together before falling asleep finally.

  Days went by and they waited to embark on their plan. Nothing. No one came to her house during the day or night, or at least, no one tried to make themselves known for being there. She didn’t tell Ryder, choosing to keep her private, little decoy plan to herself. She granted Chet all the time off he needed to huddle in her house with her gun as she went about business as normal. When his mother asked about his frequent absences, Chloe told him to call Dok and say he was sick.

  In the meantime, her amateur trap didn’t produce anything. When Chet finally came back to work, Chloe carried the weapon on her, keeping it concealed. She was on edge, grumpy, jumpy, and still very sad. But her dauntless response to being threatened did manage to override her previously incapacitating grief.

  She was fucking done with that. No more lying around, crying and hiding, feeling so sad. She might as well have rolled over while her sister’s murderer roamed the city free and alive. He scared her. She feared he would ruin her life as cruelly as the murder of her sister had already. No. Hell no. She would track him down and find him. She would see him punished, whether by legal means or not, and she fully intended to see him permanently behind the gates of hell. The violent urge she felt now burned in a fantastic rage that gnawed inside her. She didn’t share that part with anyone, not even Chet. She dared not confide to him that she fantasized about the closure to her sister’s murder and it included at best, a lifelong prison sentence, but even better in her eyes was a sentence of death. Painful, long, and miserable was how the death Chloe imagined would befall whoever killed her sister. Immobilized by grief and panic, Chloe was too terrified to seek revenge. She lacked the strength and skills of committed action. Now, however, she was determined to find the murderer and once and for all, snuff out the fiend that tried to hurt her and killed her sister. If she were subsequently doomed by that reality, she intended to make sure the murderer would be too.

  Chapter Thirteen

  CHLOE WAITED AND AGONIZED. When would the next eerie event occur? She spent all her time staring at her customers, as well as strangers, friends, neighbors, and community members. Who could it be? Who would’ve killed her sister? Who seemed fixated on her? Or was she a threat to someone? Chloe wasn’t sure of the perp’s identity, but one conclusion she felt confident of was that whoever killed her sister lived in Silver Springs, or came through it frequently. The murderer was aware enough to realize that his awful deed was discovered. Even if no one else fully believed it was related, Chloe had a hunch it was.

  Chet watched how she fretted and feared, but never once told her to calm down. He accepted her version as the truth and let her live it out. She went back to his place after deciding that she’d rather have torched her own house than stay in it ever agai
n. Ever. It felt tainted and sullied now. She never wanted to go back after failing to get over the few terrifying nights she spent there. It was a cruel reminder of her sister’s murder and she felt as if the house dripped her sister’s blood down its walls. Graphic and crazy, sure, but that’s how Chloe saw the affiliation now between her sister’s corpse and her house. It was all owing to the one link now—the murderer. Chloe knew there was no way she could ever live there again, but rather than admitting that, not even to Chet, she told him she preferred to stay at his place. Meanwhile, in her office at the café, when she was alone, she spent her time researching new places to live. She found a few in her price range and grew even more anxious to get out of there. She decided without any mental debate to sell the house.

  But that decision didn’t alleviate any of her fears. She searched people’s faces to find anyone staring at her for too long or lingering at the café. Neither she nor Chet, who would have noticed any unusual behavior in the clientele, suspected anyone. She trusted Chet’s instincts.

  Each day, Chloe appeared for work just like before. She made all the rounds, speaking and chatting with the customers and staff. She was getting back to her normal demeanor, even if it was fake. She took in the patrons’ sympathetic remarks and concern for her with quiet dignity and frequent nods. But eventually, people moved on to treating her as before, and she encouraged it. She longed for a suspicious character to enter her restaurant, but most times, it didn’t occur. No one stuck out to her, or pointed to himself, saying, “I am a murderer!”

  She carried her gun at all times now and both she and Chet proceeded with more caution. Chet drove her to and from work, and she never stayed alone at his house. She visited her parents when he worked the late shift. When she began writing out the schedule, she assigned him to work the hours that allowed him to protect her the most. He balked at first, but got quiet when she said, “It’s my place. Damn right, I’ll make your hours suit me, but mostly it’s to keep me safe. I’d do it for any employee if they were in the same situation we’re in.”

  She refused to be the dumb, idiotic heroine of any corny movie or book. She took every precaution she could think of. She even bought some spare cell phones so they were everywhere: her car, Chet’s car, her office, and every room in his house. Overkill? Sure. But better that, since only Chet knew about it, than wishing she had done it after the fact. Chet never said a word to discourage her but accepted whatever new concern she had as well as any other way she could figure out to protect herself. He always helped her make it happen.

  Ryder still came in every single day when he was working and ate lunch or breakfast there, depending on his shift. Wyatt was back in school and only recently returned to spend his afternoons at the café. Most afternoons he was there. But a distinct shift had also developed in that arrangement. If Tara didn’t have to work, Wyatt just went home and stayed with her. Tara also took Wyatt home if her shift ended before Ryder’s did. It was definitely much more about them providing the primary care for Wyatt than before. Chloe had to swallow her sadness over that. Of course, it was their right. Of course, duh! It should not have bothered her so much.

  Or hurt so badly.

  But it did. Having withdrawn from her nephew for all those weeks of near hibernation, now that she was back, Chloe put her arms out towards him and smiled, sheepishly. He stared up at her, biting his lip, unsure of her. “I’m sorry, Wyatt. For getting upset with you about your… about Ebony. I understand Tara is your friend and I’m very glad you have her.”

  Shrewd as ever, Wyatt gave her a weary look. “Really?”

  She nodded, swallowing her tears. “Yes. Really.”

  Nodding, Wyatt broke into a huge smile as he jumped toward her. All was instantly forgiven. She swept him up, wishing she were more like him. She longed to be as brave and eager to forgive as her nephew. Chloe clung to him, realizing he was all she had of Ebony now. She could never hurt him or turn away from him. He was the only reason she had to live for now. She wondered if her parents could remember that.

  For the past three weeks, Wyatt came into the café at least three afternoons a week. His high voice was cracking and squeaky as he described first grade, from his teacher to every single person who annoyed, impressed, laughed or eventually talked to him. His vivid vocabulary and photographic memory made everything he experienced more interesting than it was. He dutifully reported everything that happened each day. Naturally, it took him a while, sometimes close to an hour, before he finished describing it all. Chloe was glad she could enjoy listening to him again. The sadness that previously engulfed her, rendering her into near paralysis, was gone and she was pleased to be humoring him again.

  Ryder was there, eating lunch with his occasional partner, Crystal Hughes. Chloe served his usual hamburger, sliding it across the table to him. “Hey, Ryder, Crystal. How goes the wildlife today?”

  Crystal smiled, leaning back to let Chloe serve her chef’s salad. “Oh, pretty decent. Had some poachers out trying to catch sturgeon in posted illegal fishing areas.”

  Ryder nodded. “Plus, we helped look for Mrs. Huskin’s grandson, Lance. Do you know him?”

  “Uh, sure. He’s a little slow, right? Is he missing?”

  “She just hasn’t seen him in a while. He likes to go off in the woods and shoot his gun. I don’t know how many times I’ve found him doing that, and they’re not always legal locations. We’ve already checked several spots where I’ve seen him before, and we hope to finish up this afternoon. I’m sure he just failed to check in at the usual time, but Mrs. Huskin is understandably concerned, considering his limitations.”

  They chatted for a while until Ryder got up and went to the restroom. Chloe slipped into the booth across from Crystal. “You saw where my sister’s body was found, correct?”

  Crystal’s face seemed startled and she frowned, wrinkling her forehead with worry lines. Chloe felt bad for cornering her but Ryder had already shot her down when she asked him to take her to the exact location. He thought it was gruesome and macabre and he said it would do no good for her. Chloe, however, didn’t agree. She wanted to see the whole picture, and know the complete story. Seeing the final spot where Ebony was still alive on earth was something that Chloe felt she had to experience. Since Ebony had to face it, Chloe couldn’t avoid it. Everything else was like that for them, so she had to see about this too. “Yes.”

  She reached across the table and set her hand on Crystal’s wrist. “Would you take me there?”

  Her expression blanched. “Chloe, Why? What good could that possibly do?”

  “I need to see it. I need to feel the space. I think it would give me some kind of peace, and if not peace, then maybe some kind of understanding. I need to know where she was lying all this time. I need to go to that picture. Nothing can change the reality. Don’t I know it? I live it on a daily basis. But I think if I saw the actual location, it could help me find some closure.”

  “What about Ryder?” she reasonably inquired.

  “He already refused. Said it was for my own good, but no. It wasn’t. It was because he can’t face going out there again. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t. You know? So I thought perhaps… in honor of your friendship with Ebony as well as with me, you’d take me there.”

  Crystal gave Chloe her best stern face and Chloe squeezed her wrist. “Please, Crystal?”

  “I can’t believe you’re asking this. I don’t mind though. Other than that, we’re doing it behind Ryder’s back.”

  “It’s not his decision whether or not I go there. It’s still state land. Not private. Not his personal spot either. I just want to, you know, see it. And pay my respects. You understand, don’t you?”

  She shook her head. “I’m sure no one can understand what you’ve gone through… all of you, including Ryder. I think Tara helps him deal with Ebony’s murder a lot.”

  Chloe kept her face carefully neutral. She was a little too anxious to persuade her. She felt sure if she managed t
o humor Crystal’s ramblings and not trespass on her loyalty for Ryder, she could get her own way. “Oh. I’m convinced of it. I’m so glad he has her.”

  Crystal’s smile was pinched. “Are you sure you want to do this? It could be a little grisly for you.”

  “No. It would give me the full picture.”

  She glanced up as Ryder came out of the restroom. “Okay. But could you keep it quiet? I don’t want Ryder getting upset with me. But I understand your point too.”

  She squeezed Crystal’s arm before getting onto her feet, and smiling. “Thank you. For all your kindness. I’ll text you, huh? And we’ll make definite plans.”

  Chloe almost rubbed her hands together like an evil villain in the cartoons after setting their nefarious plan in motion. Having contemplated doing this for a few weeks now, when she asked Ryder, she only received a resounding no. Chloe was convinced that he was still too hurt to go back there, so she stopped asking, and considered asking Crystal instead. She and Ebony were friends. Crystal and Ryder had worked together for many years, and because of that, Crystal and Ebony became quite friendly. So Chloe felt bad, like she was treading on that bond, and in all honesty, using it. But she needed to do it.

 

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