Within seconds, Allie, Detective Lambert, and Carrie were in the detective’s vehicle, leaving the station, police sirens screaming above them. Everything felt more surreal to Allie by the minute. Nausea swept through her body at the possibility that Sammy could be in danger.
“There was a police car at the house when I left,” Allie said.
“The patrolman had to leave before shift change. His wife was involved in a car accident during the height of the storm. His relief is on his way to your house now.”
Allie’s fingers were shaking so badly, she kept pressing the wrong saved numbers on her keypad, trying to reach Bitty. When she finally got the number right, her calls immediately went to voice mail.
Beside her, Detective Lambert barked orders through his police radio . . . Not sure what we’ll be dealing with . . . County Road 447 . . . Paramedics . . . Stat.
A cool sensation crawled through Allie’s body as she stared out the side window at clusters of trees.
“Are you okay?” Detective Lambert asked.
She shook her head no, and conjured up Sammy’s handsome little face in her mind’s eye. The feeling of his little arms wrapped tightly around her. “Mommy’s almost home,” she said quietly, hoping he was sitting safely on the couch with Bitty, playing a game or playing with his minifigures.
That their rushing to the house was just a precaution—unwarranted fear.
Her thoughts flew to Zoe killing Johnny. She could hardly believe it. Yes, Zoe was clingy . . . maybe even a little obsessed.
Yes, definitely obsessed.
And confused—yes, that, too. But she was also a very sweet and helpful girl.
How could she possibly be so dangerous? And if she was, how could Allie not have seen it?
And she’d left Sammy with her.
Oh my God. If anything happens—
She didn’t let her thoughts go there. If you think a thought long enough, and with enough emotion . . . She stared out the front window. Rain was falling in sprinkles. She was functioning on her last spurts of adrenaline. But she had to keep going until she knew Sammy was safe.
In the distance, she heard the wails of other sirens. Detective Lambert placed a hand on top of hers and squeezed as though trying to offer assurance. But he didn’t offer up any words.
Is it because he can’t . . . because he thinks something bad has happened? That Sammy might not be okay?
The three minutes they’d been in the car had felt like hours.
Finally they pulled off the paved road onto the dirt one.
Carrie sat in the backseat of the police car, staring through the bars. She had more to tell them. Much more.
“I think I know why you’ve been so sick,” she said to Allie, wanting to free herself of as many secrets as she could.
Detective Lambert glanced at her though the rearview mirror.
“I think Zoe’s been drugging you,” Carrie said.
“Drugging?” the detective asked. “What do you mean?”
Allie turned in her seat.
“I didn’t see her do it, but I think she emptied out your antidepressant capsules and filled them with something else. With the pills our mother used to give us to make us sleep a long time. They’re called Xanax.”
“Why would she do that?” the detective asked.
“I think she wanted Allie to need her. She did it to our mother last year for the same reason. She took the little beads out without her knowing. The beads were supposed to make her happier, and when she took them out, she got really depressed. And the Xanax made her so tired she could barely get up some days.
“When she was sad and tired, she’d let Zoe help her do things. I think Zoe felt if she helped her enough that our mother might change her mind and love her again. And I’m pretty sure that’s what she’s been doing to you.”
“Why do you think that?” the detective asked.
“Because I found beads in the bathroom. The beads that are supposed to be in the antidepressant. If you open the capsules too quickly, they spill out really fast. But unless someone’s been opening the capsules, you never even see the beads.” Seeing the tears in Allie’s eyes, she swallowed hard. “I would’ve said something sooner, but I didn’t know,” Carrie said. “I didn’t realize until today.”
Carrie noticed how the detective kept shooting looks at Allie. He seemed more concerned about Allie’s suspected poisoning than her admission that Zoe had killed Johnny. He seemed to care about her. Carrie knew she’d never have anyone care about her after all of this. The realization made her feel even lonelier.
All she’d had was Zoe and her father.
Now she had neither of them.
The Night Before the Murders
It was the first time in weeks that Zoe seemed somewhat like her old self. Not quite, but close enough to make Carrie relax a little.
As always, they were hanging out in Zoe’s bedroom. Zoe sat painting her fingernails with pink glittery polish and watched Modern Family on the iPad. Carrie was on the other side of the bed, reading a book.
“Shit!” Zoe suddenly said, scrambling off the bed. “She’s going to kill me.”
“Huh? What happened?”
Carrie looked over and saw that Zoe had spilled some polish on the comforter.
“Crap. Want me to get some nail polish remover?”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll get it.”
Zoe hurried out of the room. About twenty minutes later, the door flew open. Zoe was wide-eyed. She hurried to the bed, breathing hard.
“What happened?”
“Mother’s planning . . . she’s planning . . .” she started, then stopped to take a breath. “She wants to run away with Gary and take us with them! She wants to take us away from Dad,” she shrieked. “She’s serious, Carrie! They’re making plans right now!” Zoe looked hysterical.
Carrie clamped her hand to her sister’s mouth. “Shh. They’ll hear you.” She took her hand from her sister’s mouth. “Calm down. You’re not making any sense.”
“They’re going to take off and bring us with them!”
“What? Who said that?”
“Mother! And Gary!”
Carrie stared at her sister, her stomach suddenly aching.
She watched Zoe pace. The news was unsettling. But even more distressing at the moment was how upset Zoe was. Carrie couldn’t stand for her sister to feel bad. Carrie felt a weird tightness in her chest. She’d heard that was a sign of a heart attack. She’d felt it before, but this was the worst yet. Could twelve-year-olds get heart attacks? She would have to Google it, she thought, her pulse racing. “Calm down,” Carrie said.
But Zoe was too amped to calm down. Tears streaking her face, she stopped pacing. “And she’s going to give Gary all of Dad’s money so they can keep it for themselves.”
“What? Are you sure about all of this, Zoe?”
Zoe stared at her. “Do you think I’d make something like this up?”
“No, I mean—”
“Then why would you even ask such a thing?”
“Sorry,” Carrie said.
Zoe paced for a very long time, refusing to talk. She just kept muttering to herself, and shaking her head.
Carrie was definitely going to throw up.
Zoe finally turned. “Dad would take us if Mother wasn’t around? She’s lying when she says he won’t take us, right?”
“I don’t know.”
“We need to do something,” Zoe said.
“Like what?”
Zoe seemed to study her. After several seconds, she leaned over to whisper something in her ear . . . something that would change everything for both of them forever.
As soon as the words were out, Carrie raced for the bathroom and vomited.
CHAPTER 38
HER HEART HAMMERING in her chest, Allie jumped out of the Crown Victoria before it could come to a full stop and ran through the cold rain to the front door. She punched the doorbell several times, then frantically fumbled
with her keys. Piglet was inside the house, barking like crazy.
Bitty opened the door, a wad of Kleenex in her hand. She was wearing her robe, and her hair was disheveled as though she’d just woken. “Allie? What’s wrong?” she asked, her gaze moving quickly from her to Carrie.
“What in God’s name? Carrie? She was with you? How—?”
“Where’s Sammy?” Allie asked, out of breath, pushing into the foyer.
Bitty’s eyebrows inched together. “Zoe told me he was with you.”
Ignoring Bitty’s words, Allie dashed into the living room, hoping to see Sammy on the couch or the floor, playing. Goose bumps broke out along her arms when she saw only Zoe. The girl was reading a book, her socked feet propped up on the coffee table.
“Where’s Sammy, Zoe?”
Zoe’s mouth opened, then closed. Then she caught sight of the red and blue emergency lights that were splashed on the far wall of the room. She stood up, her eyes nervously skating around the room.
They landed on Carrie and froze.
“Where’s Sammy, Zoe?” Allie asked again, louder, her whole body trembling with both fear and fury.
Zoe hugged her body with her arms. “What do you mean?” she said, her voice quivering. “I thought he was with you.”
“No you didn’t! You said you would help watch him. Where is he? Tell me right now, Zoe! Right now!”
“But he left with you! I mean . . . didn’t he? I’m not sure—”
Allie’s blood turned cold. Zoe had done something bad to Sammy.
“Sammy!” Allie screamed, running to her bedroom only to find it empty. “Sammy!” she shouted again. She started to head to his bedroom, but Detective Lambert was just stepping out of it. “He’s not in there,” he said.
“Can someone tell me what’s going on?” she heard Bitty say somewhere behind her. The woman’s voice was high-pitched. It was never high-pitched. Hearing the worry in her voice only made Allie more fearful.
“Carrie thinks Zoe might’ve done something to him,” the detective answered.
“What? Oh my God, no.”
“We’ve been trying to call,” he said.
“The landline’s dead, and I can’t find my cell phone.”
“Sammy! Sammy!” Allie screamed again, looking around. But her little boy didn’t come. Piglet was going berserk, barking her head off.
“She’s been barking like that for the last few minutes,” Bitty said to the detective. “I found her locked in Allie’s room right before you got here.”
The foyer was filling with people. The caseworker and forensic therapist had both arrived, along with three uniformed cops and Sergeant Davis. “Search the house,” the detective said, giving them orders. “You,” he said pointing to an officer. “Tear the place apart if you have to.” He turned to the other two officers. “Check the perimeter, and the woods.”
Allie ran back to Zoe, who was now cowering against the wall behind the couch. She grabbed the girl’s arms. “Where is he, dammit!” she screamed. “Where is he? So help me God, I will kill you if you don’t tell me, Zoe!”
Zoe’s eyes held hers as she tried to wrestle her arms free, but Allie clung on. “Tell me!” she shouted. She shook the girl, and her head whipped back.
Strong arms pried her fingers from Zoe’s shoulders, quickly pulling her away. “No. Allie. I’m sorry, you can’t—” Detective Lambert said.
She bucked and twisted against the detective’s hold, but he held on tight. “Tell me, goddammit!” Allie screamed.
Zoe shrunk away. She rubbed her upper arms and stared at Allie, her eyes going flat. Something frightening passed through them.
“You tell us right now where he is, young lady!” Bitty said, now at Allie’s side. “This isn’t a game, Zoe! This is a little boy!”
“I know exactly what he is! He’s a spoiled little brat!” Zoe spat, her eyes never leaving Allie’s. “This is all his fault!” she screamed. “He was jealous of me! Don’t you see! All he wanted to do is screw everything up for me! He was so selfish! It’s not fair!”
“I trusted you!” Allie shouted.
“That wasn’t enough! I wanted you to love me!” Zoe screamed, her eyes shimmering with tears. “Why couldn’t you just love me?”
Allie’s skin crawled with horror.
She had never wanted to hurt anyone so bad.
“Does the dog always bark like that?” Detective Lambert asked.
Allie hadn’t even realized Piglet was still barking. She turned her head in the dog’s direction. “Only if there’s something out there . . .
The two traded a look. “Open the door! The dog knows where he is,” Detective Lambert told Sergeant Davis, who was standing closest to the door.
The sergeant flipped the lock on the sliding glass door, and Piglet, barking maniacally, leaped out into the darkness.
Allie pushed out of the detective’s grasp and sprinted into the cold, wet night after Piglet, shouting her son’s name.
CHAPTER 39
FEAR KNIFED HER heart as Allie darted into the wet wintry night after Piglet. With every step, icy mud seeped into her shoes.
“Sammy! Piglet!” she yelled, rushing deeper into the woods. A weak moonbeam trickled through the canopy of trees but barely illuminated her path. She could see little more in the darkness than the shadows of the trees.
It tore her in two to think of Sammy out here, alone. She knew if he was out here, he was afraid. “Sammy!” she cried, her arms extended in front of her face as she ran, pushing aside low-slung branches. She missed one, and an ice-encrusted branch whipped at her face and sliced into her forehead. She cast it aside and kept running.
Were Piglet’s barks growing fainter?
She stopped and listened, her heart racing so fast she thought it would burst out of her chest.
“Sammy!” she yelled, turning and running the other way. Her lungs were so tight, she could barely breathe. After a few yards, she stumbled on something and fell hard, sprawling flat on her stomach, cold mud splashing her face.
A sudden storm of footfalls pounded the forest’s floor. Still on her stomach, she turned and saw the men spreading out into the woods. A cacophony of voices were shouting Sammy’s name, their cries echoing off the trees.
Piglet was howling now. Deep, long, mournful howls that made Allie tremble even harder.
Flashlight beams bounced off the trees in every direction. Three different beams were headed toward her.
Please, God, let him be okay. Please. I’ll do anything. Oh God, please.
Her thoughts started firing slowly again as the last bits of adrenaline drained from her body. The wind gusted through the branches, chilling her to the bone as she staggered to her feet.
Please, I’ll do anything. Just please, keep my son safe. Please . . . let him be okay.
She turned in a full circle, watching the flashlight beams shine off trees in the distance.
She heard a deep voice. “Over here! The boy’s over here!” Her eyes jerked in the direction of the man’s voice. She could make out a small circle of light through the trees.
“Sammy!” she screamed.
Her lungs on fire, she limped toward the light, feeling as though she were moving through quicksand.
Another light shone from behind her, glancing off a tree. She peered over her shoulder, shielding her eyes from the beam. It snapped off and she felt a strong hand on her upper back. “Here. Let me help you.” It was Detective Lambert. He draped her arm over his shoulder and helped her walk.
Despair washed through her as they neared her son. Was he okay?
She moved to him as quickly as she could. As she drew closer, she saw Sammy on the ground, curled up on his side in his Spider-Man pajamas, his thumb in his mouth. Piglet lay on the ground whining, pressed against Sammy’s back. Two officers knelt beside the two. One was pressing fingers against Sammy’s neck.
“Over here!” the other man kept shouting.
Tears exploding from her eye
s, Allie fell to her knees and touched his shoulder, instantly smelling the sharp odor of vomit. “Oh, Sammy!”
His eyes remained closed.
“Sammy?” A shiver passed through her. “Sammy, Mommy’s here.” In the distance she heard radios going off.
“Ma’am, please. Make sure not to move him. EMS is making its way in and will be here in a few seconds,” the officer said.
It took all she had to not cradle Sammy in her arms. She lay on the forest floor, pressed up against him, trying to keep him warm. Vomit coated his lips and the side of his face and his neck. His pajama shirt. In his hand, he clutched something sticky.
“Oh, Sammy,” she whispered. “I love you so much. Please . . . please be okay.”
His little eyes fluttered open. His lips turned up a little at the corners. “Mommy,” he said, sounding relieved to see her. “Mommy, I cold.” Then his eyes closed again.
Relief washed through her. “It’s okay, baby,” she said, smiling through her tears. “They’re going to warm you up in just a minute, okay? You’re about to be so much more comfortable.”
“EMS. Clear the area,” a man announced. Allie sat up, but continued holding her son’s hand. Two men knelt down on either side of her son and began taking his vitals. She sat, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb, and continuing to reassure him.
Until everything faded to black.
CHAPTER 40
BACK IN THE living room, Carrie could feel the hate in her sister’s stare.
“Where were you?” Zoe asked. Even though she looked angry, she sounded terrified.
Zoe truly looked shocked Carrie would turn on her. Didn’t she realize that when she continued to hurt people—Carrie included—she hadn’t given her a choice?
Most everyone was in the yard and woods now. The only people left in the house were Carrie, Zoe, Miss Judy, Renee, and Sergeant Davis.
Zoe kept blinking hard, as though hoping when she opened her eyes, she would see something else. That it would all turn out to just be a bad dream.
“What did you do, Carrie?” she asked again, louder this time.
Carrie didn’t answer her.
Don't Say a Word (Strangers Series) Page 19
