Don't Say a Word (Strangers Series)

by Jennifer Jaynes

  “I see. I’ll tell you a secret then. I do, too,” the young woman said, and winked. “I love being at home. I wish I was able to be there more.”

  Zoe stared at the woman.

  “So, tell me more about this man, Gary, who paid you guys a visit today. Is he the same person you were telling me about yesterday?”

  Zoe nodded.

  “Do you know what he wanted? Why he showed up today?”

  Zoe shrugged. “He said something about wanting to know what I’d told you.”

  “Did you answer him?”

  “No. I didn’t talk to him at all.”

  “Are you afraid of Gary, Zoe?”

  Zoe peered down at her hands, pressed together in her lap. “I hate him.”

  “Why do you hate him?”

  “He’s weird. He . . .” She lowered her eyes and rocked harder. “Once, he . . .

  Allie shifted in her seat.

  “What did he do, Zoe?” Renee asked.

  Zoe swallowed hard. “I woke up in the middle of the night a couple of weeks ago, and . . . and he . . .” She inhaled sharply and shuddered. When she looked up, her eyes were glittering with tears. “He was standing next to my bed. He asked if he could get in with me and rub my back.”

  The rest of the morning was a blur. Johnny left for Dallas shortly before Zoe’s session with the therapist, and at some point, although she couldn’t remember when, Allie had grabbed Sammy and retreated to her bedroom. Now they lay in bed. The morning’s excitement had sucked them both dry, physically and emotionally. Sammy was taking his second nap of the day, and Allie was trying to fall asleep, but there was still too much adrenaline in her bloodstream.

  As she had sensed, the girls’ arrival had changed everything.

  It had been fewer than three days since she’d first laid eyes on these girls, and now the whole safe world that had taken her years to build felt as flimsy as a house of cards.

  It’ll all pass soon, she assured herself. This, like everything else, will pass . . . and we’ll be fine.

  The police had issued an all-points bulletin on Gary and his truck. Detective Lambert was confident that as long as he hadn’t already skipped town, they would find Gary quickly. Plus, the twins weren’t going to be in Bitty and Allie’s care forever. Both situations were only temporary. The detective had also assigned a patrol car to the property for the time being . . . hopefully until Gary was caught.

  Bitty had asked endless questions of Detective Lambert, but because Gary was a suspect in an active homicide investigation, the detective was unable to answer a lot of them. Nevertheless, Bitty was stubborn and resourceful. If she wanted to get to the bottom of a situation, she usually did. So she began making phone calls.

  Between what the detective and Zoe had told them, and what Miss Bitty had learned on her own, Allie knew that the man in their yard had been Gary Jason Willis. He was thirty-seven years old, a longtime substance abuser, and his current substance of choice was believed to be methamphetamine. He’d worked as an installer for a local granite company for over ten years, but was known to deal drugs on the side. Gary had a long police record, had been charged with two assault and battery charges in the last five years alone, and had three young sons under the age of ten and a baby on the way. He’d also been “dating” the girls’ married mother, Julie Parish, for about three months.

  After news of the murders had broken, no one had seen Gary—until this morning. Troubled by the length of time he’d been gone, his wife had even reported him missing. A neighbor gave a statement saying that not only was Gary’s truck parked in the Parish family’s driveway until late Tuesday night, those who saw him when he left said, as Zoe had, that he seemed to be in a big hurry.

  Allie tried to process everything she’d learned, but it was too much. Her brain was so scrambled she could barely think. She just knew that she was disturbed. She thought of how easily Sammy could’ve gotten abducted. How quickly bad things could happen. How, suddenly, everything . . . everything . . . could change. It made her realize that she had Bitty and Sammy only temporarily. That one day, both would be taken from her. Whether their bond was broken due to a disagreement or because someone died, a day would come when they’d be separated forever.

  A shiver rolled through her.

  For God’s sake, STOP! You’re doing it again.

  Forcing herself back into the present, she kissed her sleeping son’s soft cheek and watched his tiny hands and stubby little fingers as they rose and fell on his little round stomach. She watched him and tried to convince herself that their life was still easy, safe, comfortable, and secure.

  Never mind that a patrolman was sitting in front of the house in case a suspected murderer decided to threaten them again. Or that a few feet away, a child whose parents had both just been murdered was likely, at any moment, to let out a blood-curdling shriek.

  At eight o’clock that evening, Allie decided to check on Bitty and the twins. She felt guilty for leaving Bitty alone with the girls, but she’d needed some time to just breathe and get through the emotional trauma of the morning. Besides, it was only for a few hours, and if Bitty needed anything, Allie had only been a few feet and a couple of walls away.

  When she stepped into the hallway, the house was dark and eerily quiet. Usually, Bitty would still be up. But right now she was nowhere in sight. Allie stopped outside the girls’ room and listened, but all was quiet on the other side.

  She poured a drink, then did another quick security check of the house, knowing good and well that Bitty had already done the same. But checking and rechecking made her feel better.

  After her drink, she retreated back to her bedroom. Earlier, she’d called her office to tell her boss that she needed the day off for a family emergency. Taking the day off was the last thing she’d wanted to do. Her boss was a very kind man who believed in her. He was one of the very few who ever had. But she couldn’t leave Bitty alone with the kids while a murder suspect was stalking them.

  She tried to push the financial repercussions of the missed work to the back of her mind. It wouldn’t do her any good to try to deal with everything all at once. She rubbed her temples. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—worry about any of that . . . yet. As with everything else, one step forward at a time. Just move in the right direction and everything will be fine.

  In the bathroom, Allie took her antidepressant, washed her face, and brushed her teeth without even one glance in the mirror. Crawling into bed, she flipped off the lights and stared into the gloomy darkness, trying to get her brain to shut down for a little while. Taking deep breaths, she closed her eyes and waited—for sleep or the screams, whichever would come first.

  CHAPTER 12

  BUT THE SCREAMS didn’t come.

  Allie had slept restlessly, and when her eyes fluttered open at three in the morning, her first thought was that something was wrong.

  The house was too quiet.

  She jumped out of bed and hurried to the twins’ bedroom. As she was about to push their door open, she heard Zoe talking in the room. She wondered what the girl was doing up so early.

  Was she having trouble sleeping?

  She was also curious whether Carrie was responding. Or, if Carrie was mute with Zoe, too. She listened for a moment, but heard nothing but silence. She then realized that maybe they knew she was standing at the door, so she stepped away.

  Unable to go back to sleep, she brewed coffee, and sat in the darkened kitchen, staring out into the backyard. She watched the entire tree line and the spot where Gary had emerged from the woods the previous morning. She wondered where he’d gone. And if he was still out there somewhere, watching them.

  She peered out the window until the inky sky brightened into smatterings of gray and lavender, wondering how differently things might’ve turned out if Johnny hadn’t been there. The same Johnny who hadn’t so much as lifted a finger to send a text or Facebook message after his hasty departure back to Dallas. Her mind continued to slip over t
he dark possibilities until she realized what she was doing. Then she found the big Stop sign in her mind and waved it in front of her eyes.

  Stop! It’s okay. Everyone’s safe.

  She downed her coffee and poured another cup, then crossed the living room and went to the front window. She peered out to make sure the patrolman was still there.

  She relaxed a little, seeing that he was.

  Allie and Sammy were in the middle of breakfast when they heard a door down the hall click shut, then footfalls heading toward the living room.

  Bitty appeared in the entryway, carrying a notebook and her cell phone.

  “Grammy!” Sammy squealed. He scrambled from his seat and ran to her.

  The old woman’s eyes lit up. “Good morning, pumpkin!”

  After they said their morning hellos, Sammy walked up to Allie. “May I be excused, Mommy?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir, you may.”

  “Yay!” Sammy shouted. Then he darted from the room, Piglet the Protector at his feet.

  “I take it no preschool today?” Bitty asked.

  Allie shook her head. She had called Sammy’s preschool to let them know he’d be absent a few days. There was no way she was going to let her son out of her sight until she knew Gary Willis was no longer a threat.

  “It’s probably best,” Bitty said.

  As Allie cleared their dishes, Bitty told her she was going to make more phone calls and continue to investigate Gary and the girls’ family. Bitty had many gifts. One of Allie’s favorites, though, was that she had a special way with people. She had a way of making them comfortable. Of getting them to open up. While Detective Lambert seemed personable, he had a disadvantage in that he was law enforcement. From what Allie understood, the county had recently seen a surge in methamphetamine production, and since many members of the community or their families were connected to the trade in some way, they were hesitant to call attention to themselves by stepping forward. And if they felt forced to talk, the investigators received the bare minimum of what they knew . . . if even that.

  A little before eight o’clock, Allie answered the front door to find the girls’ caseworker. “I’m sorry to show up so early in the morning, but I wanted to bring these before I got my day started,” Miss Judy Marsons said, nearly out of breath. Allie wondered if she was always so harried. Miss Marsons held out two brown paper shopping bags. “It’s a few changes of clothes for the girls.”

  As Allie took the bags, she caught a whiff of an overly sweet and discomfortingly familiar smell: the odor of decomposition. She flinched, and her eyes teared up. It was an odor she’d smelled a few times in her youth. One that brought back awful memories.

  “Dreadful, isn’t it?” Miss Marsons said. “It was extremely difficult being in the house, so I just grabbed what I could . . . quickly. I just hope the smell washes out.” She made a face. “The . . . odor . . . from the bodies is still so strong.”

  Allie nodded. “Did you want to speak with Bitty?”

  “Yes. Is she up?”

  Allie led the caseworker to the home office, then went to the laundry room and upended the paper bags, dumping the clothes in the washer. She programmed the machine to its hottest setting, then closed the door tightly behind her.

  After making breakfast for the girls, she checked the backyard again. Aside from grass and trees, it was empty. In the distance, she saw a dark cloud of buzzards circling high above the woods. There seemed to be at least a hundred of them. They were always lurking over something in the woods. A dead rabbit. A dead deer. Allie cringed at the constant reminders of death, then let her eyes drop back to yard level. She was studying the tree line again when she heard footsteps behind her.

  Turning, she saw Zoe lingering in the entryway. She was in her nightgown and looked small and pale.

  “Good morning. How’d you sleep?” Allie asked.

  Zoe shrugged. “Good, I guess.” She stepped hesitantly into the room.

  “Is Carrie up?”

  “No.”

  “Well, come sit down. I made breakfast.”

  A few minutes later, Allie sat across from Zoe. The girl moved her fork around, quietly, picking at her food.

  “I can make you something else if you don’t like eggs,” Allie said.

  Zoe looked up. “No, thank you. Eggs are good.” She looked down at her plate again and took a small bite.

  Not wanting to stare, Allie peered out the window, at the dark clouds floating through the sky. The weather was going to get bad again, and the temperature was expected to drop another ten degrees.

  A brisk wind sent orange and yellow leaves dancing across the yard. Allie took a sip of her coffee and glanced at Zoe, and found the girl was watching her intently. Allie wanted to know more about her and her sister, and wondered how forthcoming Zoe would be if she asked questions.

  “So, what kinds of things do you like to do, Zoe?”

  Zoe chewed her food slowly and continued to study Allie’s face through swollen eyes. She was quiet for so long, Allie began to wonder if she’d even heard the question.

  “What do you mean?” she finally asked.

  “What do you enjoy doing? Do you play any sports?”

  Zoe shook her head. “No.”

  “You like movies? Any television programs?”

  “Yeah. I like both. I watch Modern Family a lot on the iPad.”

  “I haven’t seen that.”

  “It’s good. It’s funny.”

  “You like comedies?”

  Zoe nodded. “But I mostly like it because of the families. Even though they fight sometimes, you can still tell they really love each other.”

  Allie was encouraged that Zoe was opening up a little. “My brother used to watch old shows like Leave It to Beaver for the same reason. The family was totally different than ours.”

  “Where is he? Your brother?”

  Allie’s eyes stung. “He died.”

  Zoe studied her for a long while, then looked down at her eggs. “Yeah. My brother died, too.”

  They sat, silence growing between them. Allie searched for another question, but came up with nothing. She stood up. “You don’t drink coffee, do you?”

  Zoe shook her head.

  “Okay. Well, I’m going to get another cup. I’ll be right back.”

  Allie went to the kitchen to pour another cup of coffee. She lingered at the counter for a moment, and studied Zoe from afar. Now that she was no longer in the room, the girl was shoveling food into her mouth. She’d been hungry but hadn’t wanted to eat in front of her. In that moment she reminded Allie a little of a wild animal. One frightened and far from home. Suddenly Zoe turned and stared into the kitchen—and directly into Allie’s eyes.

  Crap, busted.

  Allie put on another smile, then grabbed her coffee and walked back into the dining room.

  Thirty minutes later, Allie pushed open the girls’ bedroom door to find Carrie still fast asleep in her bed, tangled up in the covers, the stuffed bear cradled in her arms.

  Allie sat down softly on the edge of the bed and watched the girl sleep. It was the first time she’d been able to really get a close look at her. She was a cute girl with almond-shaped eyes, long pale lashes, a snub nose, and thin, pale eyebrows. Aside from a smattering of caramel-colored freckles, her skin was almost colorless, and sallow beneath the eyes. Again, she reminded Allie of a porcelain doll. As she slept, the fingers on her left hand kept twitching.

  One of her feet was hanging from the edge of the bed. Allie noticed the top of it, just below her toes, was blistered, the bottom edges a little red. She frowned, then left the room to get the first aid kit.

  Back in the room, she touched the girl’s arm. “Carrie?”

  Carrie’s eyes moved beneath their lids. A few seconds later, she inched her eyebrows together, then sniffed and opened her eyes. Allie could see her trying to acclimate herself. Once she did, she sat up and peered at Allie through bleary brown eyes and carefully adjusted the s
tuffed bear beneath her left arm.

  Allie pointed to the blister on her foot. “That looks bad. How did you get it?”

  Carrie stared down at her foot, but didn’t say anything.

  “Mind if I clean it?”

  Carrie looked away. Allie took it as a cue that she wouldn’t mind, and gently cleaned and bandaged the wound.

  When she was done, she sat next to the girl, then giving in to a peculiar impulse, reached out and folded the girl’s cool limp fingers into hers.

  Carrie didn’t squeeze back, but she also didn’t flinch or pull her hand away.

  Allie felt a warmth pass through her again. Carrie’s hand seemed strangely right in hers. Like it belonged. Almost like Sammy’s or Bitty’s. The fact that it did stunned her.

  CHAPTER 13

  AFTER CARRIE HAD eaten her breakfast, Allie assigned the girls their chores.

  Throughout her years of fostering children, Bitty had learned that many troubled kids had never been given responsibilities, rules, accountability, or even much attention—all important ingredients to raising healthy human beings with good self-esteem. Young people who would be able to function independently in the real world. So Bitty was diligent about giving her foster kids this nurturing.

  Allie remembered when she’d first arrived at Bitty’s as a sixteen-year-old foster child. She’d been an elementary school dropout and her mother had barely interacted with her, so Bitty’s rules were the first she’d ever been given. Allie’d been surprised to find that she liked having rules. They gave her a sense of security. She also enjoyed the new responsibility because it freed her mind from her dark thoughts and worries for stretches of time.

  Plus, the accountability had felt good. The fact that someone was actually paying attention to her, actually putting serious thought and time into her welfare for the very first time in her life, made her feel valued.

  As Allie gave the twins their chores, Sammy clutched her leg and stared. Allie showed the girls step-by-step how Bitty liked everything done. Both girls dutifully did what they were asked. The only hesitance Allie sensed was when she asked Carrie to put away the stuffed bear while she cleaned. Carrie had frozen a moment, clutching the bear even tighter. She’d peered quickly at her sister, but then eventually did as she was asked.