by Leanne Davis
Days later, she convinced Crystal to take her hiking and show her the exact spot. “I’ll drive,” she insisted, and she picked Crystal up. They drove mostly in silence, and only talked intermittently. Crystal wore jeans and hiking boots, but no uniform. Chloe wore the same, but added a coat to keep the overcast chill off her. “How are you, Chloe? I know this must be so hard.”
Chloe smiled with the familiar pang of sadness. Other people’s sympathy had become a constant companion in her life now. “Yes. It has been… unspeakably difficult.”
“Was it any easier before? I mean, before her body was found?”
“In many ways, yes. It seemed like such a betrayal for her to just leave us. But we also shared an unspoken belief, I did especially, that someday, she’d return to us. We all thought she’d eventually find her way back to Silver Springs.” Chloe gulped and took in a deep breath. “And I swore then, it did not matter if she wasn’t sorry, I knew I would forgive her. Even if no one else did and Wyatt hated her or my parents did, I knew I would make up with her eventually. I just wanted her to come back, no matter what the cost. But now? I have my answer, and no more hope. Only confusion. I get so angry but not toward her. And knowing how she suffered, although I can’t imagine what she went through, I guess no one can, I—”
“You what?”
“I think about it all the time, Crystal. I wonder what she suffered through. How long she suffered. What was her last day on this earth like? Her last hour? Did she realize what was happening to her? Or only in the critical moments before her death? How did she write that letter? Why did she? How aware was she?” Chloe sighed. “See? I think about it a lot. But I also have so many more answers now than I had before.”
Crystal nodded sympathetically and directed Chloe to pull the car into a remote gravel parking lot. “Right here should be fine.”
Chloe nodded and parked the car. The parking lot was deeply grooved and recently dug up, much more than she expected. Probably from the increased traffic after broadcasting the news of the investigation. She zipped up her coat and tugged her baseball cap down harder over her mass of curls.
Crystal shoved the car door closed and came closer. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”
Chloe nodded. “I’m sure.”
Nodding, Crystal started up one of three trails, choosing the least used one. They plodded ahead, until the trees opened up to an large, impressive swamp filled mostly with skunk cabbage and huge lily pads. It was a very pretty spot, yet marred by the fact that a body was dumped there, where it lay rotting for several years. Chloe stopped dead, closing her eyes and Crystal touched her arm. “Are you okay? Do you want to turn back? Had enough?”
Shaking her head, Chloe clutched Crystal’s hand and replied, “No. We’re here at my say-so. I want to do this. It’s just a much prettier spot than I imagined.”
“Contradictory, isn’t it? So idyllic but—”
“A place of violence. Murder.”
“Yes.” Crystal’s gaze wandered off and Chloe asked, “Would you show me where she was found?”
Surprised, Crystal replied, “Oh, Chloe. Are you sure? Isn’t this enough? Why would you torture yourself?”
“Please. I’m not a child. I know what I want.”
Crystal smiled gently and finally said, “Okay. But only because you are not a child. I just hate to make your grief any worse.”
“I actually believe seeing the location will help alleviate it.”
Crystal nodded and stepped forward. She was walking on the high side of the swamp and went halfway around the other side before she dropped down and finally stopped on the muddy edge. The mud was black and thick as it oozed around her boot, which was soon stuck in it.
“Here?”
Crystal pointed down. “Right about there. She was submerged. The body was weighted down. The natural vegetation camouflaged her quite effectively.”
Chloe’s arms prickled with goose bumps. She glanced around. The cloudy day made the forest spookier and darker in the emerald greens and black shadows. The murderer was on these same grounds. There was nothing there now, however, and no one in sight. A breeze brushed over them. “Did you bring your gun with you?”
Startled, Crystal whipped her gaze up to Chloe. “What?”
“Did you?”
“Yes. I always do when I’m out alone.”
“Good.” Chloe swallowed, feeling creeped out. She forgot to bring hers and wished she hadn’t. Stepping backwards to the edge of the swamp, she flopped down on a log that rose up high enough to keep her dry. Sighing heavily, tears filled her eyes. Crystal noticed them, and started coming closer before sitting next to her.
“This must be so hard for you.”
Chloe’s smile was small and strained. She was preoccupied with the irony. “No harder than every other moment.” She stared back at the empty swamp. But there was nothing nefarious about it. It was empty except for the diverse green plants growing in and around it. “You saw her? In there?”
Crystal nodded. “Yes. The investigators found her wedding ring, her earrings, her necklace and that ruby ring she always wore. They were scattered on the bottom of the swamp. But Chloe, how does that help you?”
“I don’t know. I guess it makes it more real. Vivid. And solidifies it. It’s ironic because she was gone for three years before she was found, so it’s hard for me to convince myself I’m not still waiting for her. You know what I mean? Like I’m still just sitting around, hoping she’ll pop up, alive and well, saying she’s sorry. I got used to living every day without her. It was a long, painful process. Very long. I didn’t just suddenly become okay. And then this was thrown at me, the fact that she’s dead. She’s forever gone now. The irony is, as shocking as it sounds, my daily life didn’t change. This is how it’s been for a while now. I sometimes wonder if it’s actually worse than it was before. Does that make any sense?”
“It does. But everything I’ve told you could have come from Ryder. Why couldn’t he tell you?”
Chloe sighed, shaking her head. “He’s got his new life now with Tara. I know he would always talk to me. Even if he wouldn’t bring me here. But I think he’s already moved past Ebony in ways I haven’t yet and probably never will. So maybe it’s better if I don’t talk to him about her anymore, although I never thought I’d say that.”
“I often suspected, especially over the last year or so, before Tara entered the picture, that he was interested in you and vice versa.”
Despite being in that terrible place, a laugh popped out of Chloe’s mouth. “Well, you’re not the first one to suspect that. I’ve heard that from more than one person in the last several months. Maybe it’s because people believe men and women can’t be friends. But we were. We shared Wyatt and our hurt feelings over losing Ebony. We had a strong connection and it apparently appeared to be much more to some people. But no. And then he met Tara.”
“That must be kind of hard to watch him move on from your sister so quickly.”
Chloe grunted. “I nearly fired Tara for it.”
Crystal jerked back and Chloe explained. “Well, no one stood for that, especially Ryder. But I did try to when I first learned of Ebony’s murder. I just couldn’t take seeing him so easily moving forward. And with someone who worked in Ebony’s café. It was always her place, you know? But of course I was wrong and I didn’t get away with it. I’ve since harnessed that impulsive, resentful side of me.”
“Do you ever get jabbed by it still? The jealousy, I mean? Now that he’s moved on with her? She’s so opposite of Ebony.”
“Yes, I do. But now I try to control myself.”
“I don’t think anyone could get mad at you. That is hard.”
She smiled and they both fell silent. Chloe closed her eyes and let the soft sounds of the swamp and forest touch her soul. She wished Ebony could speak to her, and tell her all about how she got here and what happened. She wished she could see a movie of her last moments. She wished she knew who killed h
er. Goose bumps covered her skin. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked around, glaring at all the trees and bushes in the dead silence. Something bolted down her spine. Fear. Terror. The killer was in this spot. This spot meant something to the killer. Whether it was sacred to them or not, and that thought disturbed her.
She shot to her feet, but saw nothing. “We should go now.”
Crystal rose up too, but slower. “Sure, Chloe. I hope you’re okay. I know this must be creepy for you. But I brought protection. Nothing will happen to us.”
She thought about every victim of violence and all the stupid heroines in cheesy thrillers that she’d ever watched reciting those same words. The police escort was always killed early somehow, rendering the protagonist at the mercy of the villain. Despite carrying guns and all their training, for some reason, the cops never survive or manage to do their jobs. Her morbid thoughts swirling around in her head, Chloe all but ran down the trail with Crystal on her heels, anxiously trying to catch up. Her heartbeat was erratic and she didn’t slow down until she saw the vehicle. With her heart pounding, she waited for Crystal before she unlocked it. After she climbed inside, locked the door, and started the engine, her racing heart began to slow down. She smiled sheepishly at Crystal. “Thank you. I guess I heard the ghosts talking to me and that was enough to freak me out over being here.”
“Understandable, Chloe, now that we know what happened here and who it happened to.”
Chloe shivered. “Yes, it hasn’t escaped me that the victim, my twin sister, looks exactly like me. And I’ve had some weird incidents at my house.”
“Weird incidents? What’s going on?”
Chloe told her about all the extraordinary occurrences. She did not, however, divulge where she lived now.
“Well, continue to take it personally and seriously. I agree with you that it seems like the timing must be connected, considering—”
“I look just like the victim.”
“Exactly.”
Chloe received both solace and reassurance from Crystal’s help. She expressed her gratitude and gratefully took Crystal’s business card to add her private number to her growing arsenal.
Chloe succumbed to the endless ache in her body, which mostly resided in her heart. She was glad she saw where her sister died, even if the experience freaked her out. But she was back now, safe and sound, and standing in front of her café. She sighed and walked in. Chet was working in the back and she ducked into her office. He soon entered too, shutting the door.
“Where have you been?”
“Keeping tabs on me now?” she mumbled in a grumpy tone.
“No, you’re two hours later than when you normally come in.”
She bit her lip, turning her head to the side. “Did you worry about me?”
“I know when you should be here. You do recall all the ‘stalking’ incidents that recently happened to you.”
“Shall I assume that means a yes?”
He shrugged. “Could you just let me know if your schedule changes or you decide to do something different?”
She sighed, leaning back. “I’m sorry. I’m just being bitchy. My sister’s death always seems to bring out that side of me.”
“What happened?”
She leaned forward. “I saw the place where her body was found.”
His expression lifted. “Why?”
“I don’t know exactly. I felt like I needed to go there. I had to see it. Feel the space there. Maybe because it was the last place Ebony saw. I just felt I had to go there. As her sister. And her twin.”
“Did you feel anything?”
“It was bone-chilling. I got super freaked out and broke out in goose bumps, as if I were being watched. But no one could have known that I planned to go there today. So we had to be alone. But it scared me all the same.”
“We?”
“I asked Ryder’s partner, Crystal, to take me. She brought her gun.”
“Good.”
She sighed. “I’m going to get to work now.”
He left and she stared after him. As always, he accepted what she did with little to no reaction visible. Even after today, it made her smile. He was such a puzzle, and yet in many ways very predictable in his lack of reaction.
Later, after Tara left, she and Dok were alone in the restaurant. “Hey, Dok?”
She glanced up from filling the condiment bottles for each table. “Yes?”
“Could I talk to you?”
Nodding, Dok entered Chloe’s office. Chloe indicated for her to sit on the loveseat and she sat next to her but remained a respectable distance apart. Dok tilted her head. Chloe cleared her throat before asking, “What’s it like?”
“What’s what like?”
“What Chet has. What’s he like for you?”
“He told you?” Dok’s eyebrows rose up and her head jerked back in surprise.
“He did. I looked into some of it but the information was overwhelming. Besides, so much of it doesn’t apply to him.”
Dok stared at her fingers for a long moment. “Before I tell you something about my son, your employee, I must ask how serious are you about him?”
“Pretty serious. And as I now understand, he wouldn’t bother if he weren’t just as serious about me.”
“Most likely, not.”
“Could you talk to me? Are you like him?”
“No. I’m not.”
“Is it hard for you?”
“It was when he was a kid. He’s changed a lot since we figured out how to talk to him. We learned to speak in ways that he identifies better with.”
“How do you mean?”
“Only in black and white. He doesn’t act out of impulse and keeps a lid on his emotions when he hears news or gossip or even other people’s feelings. He’s very literal.”
“Like he was at my sister’s memorial when he didn’t recite a bunch of hollow platitudes?”
“Exactly. Which was why it shocked me when you said that he helped you so much.”
Chloe pressed her lips together, unwilling to tell his mom it was Chet’s actions, and not his words that she responded to. It was his concrete, clear-cut, black and white actions in response to her grief. “And you lost a daughter too? His sister?”
Dok retained her composure. “Yes.”
“How come you never told me? Even recently after Ebony was discovered why didn’t either of you tell me about Hathai?”
Dok shrugged. “It’s not… easy… to talk about. Sometimes, it was a relief to come here where nothing reminded me of her and I could be busy for a few hours. The grief… it just persist. Doesn’t leave. There is nothing I can compare losing a child to, as Adaline will tell you. I’m sure your mother isn’t doing well.”
“No. Neither of my parents are.” Chloe agreed softly. She cleared her throat as tears pressed heavy against her eyes.
Dok nodded. “But Chet did talk to you about Hathai?”
“Yes. I got pretty mad that he hadn’t shared it with me before, considering my own traumatic experience.”
“But he didn’t,” Dok accurately concluded. “He might not have realized what one had to do with another, but his experience made him feel sympathy towards you and he knew how to act on that.”
“Is it… I mean…” She shrugged. “I don’t know what I mean.”
Dok pursed her lips. “He’s as solid as the earth under your feet, as long as you can guarantee there would never be a natural disaster. That’s him. He won’t lie to you. He won’t cheat on you. It wouldn’t make much sense for him to do either. He will be your full-time security. He might not know to hug you when you cry, or kiss you just because. The way he acts is usually a product of logical reason, and giving random comfort isn’t one of them, unless he knows explicitly it’s something that will help you. He’ll always try to please you by doing what he sees or thinks will make you happy. Most people don’t change as adults, and I can tell you that if you point out something to him and ask him directly to cha
nge it, and tell him what you’d prefer, he’ll most likely do whatever he can to do so. He’s very smart. He learns and applies the rules of social interactions daily. His only lack is that he misses about sixty percent of people’s facial expressions and the meaning of their body language. That’s why he listens so carefully to whatever you say. He’s the best listener there is. But he won’t probe you for more information. If you say one thing but you mean another, he doesn’t care what the ‘other’ meaning could be. He takes what you say at face value.”
“That’s… that’s a lot to remember.”
“Yes. There’s no cure. No real treatment either. Just be clear and concise, black and white and learn to recognize the emotional things he can’t do. You can’t internalize his behavior or consider it a personal attack. Sometimes it’s just him not seeing or fully understanding something. He doesn’t easily engage in eye contact. It can be frustrating or disconcerting. Just remember that isn’t personal. Eyes exchange lots of emotional information, which can be overwhelming to someone like Chet. So he avoids it. Facial expressions fail to convey emotional meaning to him. Along with most people’s body language. You can’t expect it to magically start all of a sudden either.”
“What about sensory stuff? I read that can be a huge part of this.”
“More so when he was young. Certain smells or tastes seem more vivid in him. Things he doesn’t like for example, he has a harder time dealing with than most. He had a hard time with how certain clothing fit him or felt. Sensory is harder for him because he doesn’t have the filter most people have.”
“What do you mean?”
“For example, as he drives down the road, he sees things and makes a note of every single detail around him. Things like the bird sitting on the tree limb. But much more than that. He knows what kind of tree it is, how tall it is, how wide it is, where it sits and the land it’s on. He notices a cat on the porch. A red car. A blue car. On and on, the details keep coming at him. It’s overwhelming. His brain doesn’t filter out the unimportant small details like it should. Where our brains can filter out the unnecessary details, his doesn’t. That’s what overwhelms him so he withdraws into focused, narrow interests to work as a filter. It’s a coping mechanism. He paints. That’s his narrow, focal point. Work too, is how Chet copes. And part of why he’s such a good employee. He shows up no matter what. He knows his job, and he does it. No excuses. No idleness because he is not feeling like it. Every single day, he does every single part of it. He doesn’t think about not doing it, he just does it. Structure and routine are his preference in life, over surprises and idle times. He’s like that about everything in life, pragmatic. Meticulously so.”
