Reunion (A Psychological Suspense with Murder, Mystery and the Paranormal)

by Jeff Bennington

  Chad left her office and several more patients came and went. When her last appointment ended, she pulled the framed letter close and stroked the glass. She imagined Darrin writing and his hands, touching the paper, pouring out his heart. Springtime always made the memory more difficult. She lifted the frame and read the words penned by her true love.

  Maria,

  I can’t sleep for some reason, so I’d remind you that you’re on my mind whenever I’m awake. I think about the early days and I think about our future. When we’re apart, I picture your face close to mine. I see snapshots of your smile and the look of your eyes when they’re gazing deep into my soul.

  I love you, Maria, and I want to grow old with you. I want to know everything about you: how you breathe at night, what you look like in the morning and what you need from me when you’re sad. I know those days are far into the future, but the closer we get to that time, the more I want to be with you, to know you, and experience the life that we are meant to share.

  I know we’re young and marriage should be the last thing on our minds, but I want you to understand my commitment to you. I guess I want you to know that I’m chasing you, hoping for more than just a date, more than a girlfriend. I will always love you, now and forever.

  Darrin

  With tears in her eyes, Maria gently laid the frame back on her desk. She wiped her mascara-blackened cheeks with the Kleenex she kept near the note and took a slow, quivering breath. She had never married. No one, she believed, could ever love her like Darrin. Although she’d tried to enter into a few relationships, not one of her suitors could compare. Her passion for Darrin never subsided. She simply moved it to another place, where she could help others going through the same gut-wrenching pain that she had experienced twenty years before.

  After her daily ritual, she packed her satchel with her recent case files and headed upstairs to the apartment. However, something seemed different. Something ached within her heart, releasing unfamiliar emotions. A longing, a screaming for satisfaction interrupted her routine, a need—to go home!

  As she walked up the stairs, each step brought her back to the cafeteria in Crescent Falls. Each squeak from the steps reminded her of the shrill cries for help. She gripped the railing in preparation for another flashback, closed her eyes and stood still.

  She remembered the screams that had come from the table of ninth-grade boys, who sat closest to David when he entered the room and began firing. From across the cafeteria, she heard their chairs sliding backward and watched them cower under the table. When David shot the first couple rounds of bullets, he killed one of the boys and seriously injured another. The freshman cried out in pain, but everyone else held his or her breath for fear of being next. Maria hid behind a table that someone overturned. She tried to make room for Darrin, but there wasn’t enough room to provide adequate cover. Several other students worked their way behind the table as well, pressing him to the outside. Another shot. More screaming. Her body convulsed. She shrieked with each bang, but Darrin held his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet.

  The memory faded.

  Maria returned to her present consciousness, crouched down, protecting her body from the bullets. She took a deep breath and sat on the hardwood staircase, thrown off by the intensity of the memory. It was a stronger-than-normal relapse. She shuffled through her purse frantically searching for her cigarettes. She grabbed the pack and a lighter and popped out a smoke. The deep inhalations calmed her nerves. She closed her eyes, escaping the tension with each lingering puff. Her eyes wrinkled from two decades of misery and hard memories. She held the cigarette inches from her face and studied her stained fingers. The discoloration served as a reminder of how the murders had changed the course of her life, filling her with a bitterness as sour as vinegar, discoloring her fingers and her heart. She exhaled out of the side of her mouth, pressed the remaining cigarette butt out on the wooden step, and headed up to her apartment.

  As she walked up the stairs, she felt a strong desire to leave New York. A voice echoed in her head. Go back. Go back to Crescent Falls. Organize a reunion. Visit Mama. Where did that come from? she wondered. Her mind filled with anxiety. Why would I go? I don’t ever want to see that town again!

  Maria entered her apartment, and meandered toward her bedroom. She dropped her purse and keys on a semicircular lampstand near the door. The jingle of the keys announced her presence. She walked straight through the bookshelf-laden apartment, took off her shoes, and lay down on her bed to rest.

  Her limbs trembled and her heart beat rapidly. She pulled her quilted comforter over her shoulders and assessed her emotions, still shaking. Her obese yellow cat pawed its way onto the bed and snuggled beside her, purring, warming himself against her body. It had been a while since she’d had such an intense experience. She felt a chill down her spine. She curled up and shivered.

  Her roommate, Connie, a short, heavy, redhead, followed Maria and stood in the doorway.

  “You okay?” asked Connie.

  “I’m…not…sure.” The words came out thick as molasses. “I just had a real doozy of a flashback.”

  Maria stared at a picture of Darrin that sat on her nightstand.

  “Is there anything I can do?” asked Connie.

  Maria gritted her teeth. “Sure. Bring Darrin back. That would be nice.”

  Maria watched Connie through her vanity mirror. Connie opened her mouth but nothing came out. As she looked down at Maria, her frizzy red hair drooped over her shoulders. She sighed and sat on the bed and rubbed Maria’s shoulder.

  “I don’t understand.” Maria sobbed, gripping her pillow. “More than anyone, I know I need to move on. But it’s so hard to live without thinking about him, and what life could have been—”

  She burst into more sobs.

  Connie continued her gentle rubbing. “Maybe if you put him away for just a little while and focused more on the here and now…I don’t know, maybe you’d have an easier time…going forward?”

  Maria sat up, abruptly pushing Connie with her sudden movement. “Really? I’m glad you think it’s so easy!”

  “It’s been twenty years, Maria. Let—him—go.”

  “No!” Maria’s eyes twisted with fear. “He’s all that’s left of who I was—who I am. Without him, I’m nothing!” Her tears interrupted her words. “Without him—this is all a joke—the clinic—my work. It’s all worthless!” Shaking her head, she continued. “I can’t. Not yet.” Maria laid her head back on her pillow and cried. Her body shook under the blanket.

  “Besides…” Her voice muffled under the sheets. “I’ve tried the dating scene, new hair and new shoes!” She closed her eyes. “Nothing seems to work.”

  Curled up with her eyes shut tight, Maria recalled the thoughts that had entered her mind on the steps. Go home? Why go back? Why now? Had it been that long? Her eyes blinked hard. Had it really been twenty years?

  The answers to her questions came to her in a dream—a dream about going back to Crescent Falls. She dreamed about a reunion. She dreamed of organizing and making phone calls. The vision energized her so much that when she woke up hungry a couple hours later, she felt compelled to contact her classmates. Until then, there had never been motivation to celebrate a fifth—or even a tenth—anniversary. The media had taken it upon themselves to broadcast the grim reminders of what had happened, and that sickened Maria. Like many of the survivors, Maria left Crescent Falls intent on never returning.

  As she lay on her bed, she wondered, is this what I need? A diversion? She stood up and headed to the kitchen to fix a bite to eat. Maria found a note that Connie had left on the counter, saying she had gone out for the evening. Maybe Connie’s right, she thought. Maybe I need to get away from here and start ov—.

  Maria couldn’t even say it, let alone think it. Yet, something pressed her to act, to move forward. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she felt something nudging her back to where, for her, it all ended.

  5th


  Deputy Bryan Jacobs sat in his patrol car, watching over Crescent Falls. After several lawsuits, the high school had closed and consolidated with a neighboring district. The buildings had been abandoned ever since.

  Bryan had given up his dream of going to medical school. He couldn’t handle the pressure or the environment—not after the shooting anyway. He couldn’t stay focused on his schoolwork, and the persistent effects of his PTSD made it next to impossible to live the college life. He experienced far too many reminders of the massacre: the classrooms, the hallways, and the crowds. Instead, he turned to law enforcement to prevent the next generation from experiencing the same hell he had gone through.

  Bryan knew there were more suitable candidates, but his father had connections in the sheriff’s department and pulled a few strings on his behalf. They gave Bryan a badge and he had served as a token hero to the community. He maintained that status for eighteen years, becoming, in time, a good officer.

  Although the years were filled with difficulties, he had earned his stripes regardless of his inability to cope with the sound of gunfire. A trip to the shooting range could send him into a relapse, lasting days at a time. It took a while for the other deputies to understand, but they came around. He no longer carried the passions from his first life. He hadn’t become worse or better—he just changed.

  As usual, Bryan drove past Kate Schmidt Tooley’s house at 1:15 p.m., just before he made his rounds by the old high school. When he turned the corner, Kate glanced at the car and pretended not to see him. He arrived promptly as always. She continued walking in step with Bryan’s perfectly timed stop at her mailbox.

  He rolled his window down as she approached the rendezvous point.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Tooley.” He squinted to avoid the sun in his eyes.

  “Hello, Officer.” She gave the gift of her smile in return for his consistent visits.

  For Bryan Jacobs and Kate Tooley, this had become a ritual of mutual understanding. After the shooting, Bryan had to give up any hope of being with Kate. She clung to Nick, because he clung to her. The loss of Nick’s twin brother, and the trauma from the shooting, became their uniting force. Time and Nick’s behavior, however, had begun to gnaw at Kate’s empathy.

  Bryan’s enduring interest in Kate helped to thrust an ever-increasing wedge between Nick and his wife. Bryan wanted to be with Kate, but the shooting interrupted his intentions. The opportunity he hoped for never came. Nick was strategically in place when Kate needed someone. After the shooting, she rode the strongest wave that could carry her out of her ocean of pain. Although Nick steered a sinking ship, he was there when Kate needed him most.

  Twenty years later, Bryan’s hopes were reinvigorated. Nick was still the same but Kate was changing. She seemed to be looking to Bryan once again as a way out. And so they met, secretly wishing for something better than what they had.

  The ritual continued.

  “Is everything all right in the neighborhood today?” Kate asked.

  “Well, from what I can see, everything looks good…real good.” Bryan’s eyes wandered across her full figure. He reached out of his window, opened her mailbox and grabbed her mail. They reached toward each other’s hand and made an exchange that included their habitual, tender gazing. Both parties expected the touch, but never spoke of it. She removed the mail from his hand.

  Her heart raced.

  Bryan put his left hand over his eyes to block the sun.

  “How’s Nick doing anyway?” he asked. “Is he back at work yet?”

  “Oh, he’s fine. They called him back last week after he completed his treatment.”

  Kate blushed. Nick wasn’t even close to fine.

  Bryan looked away and sighed. “Treatment, huh?”

  “Yeah. He’s been struggling lately.”

  She couldn’t escape making excuses for him. She had done it for twenty years. Aside from his fight with PTSD, Nick had never recovered from the loss of his twin. Alcohol became his escape. Kate knew it was his best attempt to drown out the pain and the memories of that tragic day.

  The conversation stirred up thoughts in Kate’s mind. She stood next to Bryan and remembered how terrified Nick’s eyes had looked when David killed Randy. She could still hear the sound of blood bubbling out of Randy’s open wounds.

  “He’s doing fine.” She nodded her head. “We’ll be fine.”

  I’ll never be fine, she thought. And Nick…fine? Yeah right!

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that,” said Bryan. “But hey, I better get going. I’ve gotta run by the school and make sure everything’s okay. Apparently, there’s been some commotion there the last few nights. Probably just some kids vandalizing again, but I want to look the campus over in case I see anything out of the ordinary.”

  Kate stared at Bryan. “I don’t know how you do it.” She crossed her arms. “I mean, I could never go back there.” She looked at Bryan with concern.

  “It’s all part of the job. I’ll be okay. I’ve walked around that building a time or two over the years; you know, just thinking and trying to push past the memories.”

  “Did it help?”

  “Not sure. I still can’t go to the shooting range or crowded places. So what does that tell you?”

  “Well, I just hope you’re all right. I’ll pray for you. Would that be okay?”

  “Oh come on, Kate. I’m just going for a walk!”

  “It can’t hurt, can it?”

  “I guess not.” Bryan winked at Kate and said, “Thanks. I appreciate your concern. See you tomorrow?”

  “See you tomorrow. Be careful, okay?”

  Bryan nodded his head, rolled up the window and drove away. Kate waved and headed back inside. As she walked up her driveway, she began to replay memories of the massacre. Normally, she was consumed with Nick and his problems, but her conversation with Bryan triggered yet another recollection.

  Her mind led her back to the cafeteria. She could vividly hear the chairs across the room sliding and falling, leaving streaks on the waxed tile. She heard kids screaming and the hushed voices that tried to avoid detection. All the friends sitting at her table dropped to the floor when they heard the first couple of shots. She remembered talking to Nick.

  “What was that?” she asked, nearly hyperventilating.

  “I don’t know.” Nick lifted his head and looked around.

  One of the students shrieked in fear. “Oh, my God! He’s got a gun! He’s got a gun!”

  “A gun?” asked Kate. “Who?”

  “SSShhhhhh,” demanded Nick. “Don’t let him hear you.” Nick covered Kate’s head with his arms.

  “Who is it?” she asked.

  Nick squinted and peered over the table. “I think it’s David Ray. Son—of—a—bitch!”

  The loser had become their worst nightmare. Without warning, Kate and her friends had to stay calm, stay hidden and think rationally to remain safe. The intensity of the moment caused time to move in slow motion—or so it seemed. Kate could only see through the gaps between Nick’s arms. Her heavy breathing made the air warm and gave her a sense of claustrophobia. When she turned her head away from Nick’s torso, she took a deep breath and caught a glimpse of his petrified eyes. They grew bigger by the second.

  She heard David Ray shout, “Nick Tooley! You’re next!”

  Nick widened his eyes and screamed, “Nooooo!” Kate screamed too.

  Boom!

  David mistakenly shot Nick’s brother, Randy, at close range. Randy’s face exploded in a miasma of flesh and bones and blood, splattering all over Kate and Nick. The buckshot blasted the front of his face off, leaving a large chasm in his skull.

  Back in the present, Kate felt sick. She could barely stand. She instantly grew weak and then physically ill. Her mouth thrust forward and she vomited violently onto the driveway. The memory remained so powerful that she felt as if she were still there. She spat and wiped her mouth.

  Habitually ignoring her own needs she thought, I�
��d better get this cleaned up before Nick gets home.

  • • •

  Bryan drove several blocks to the north and eventually pulled into the old high school parking lot. Things looked very different from how they had twenty years before. New trees, tall weeds and grass sprouted up in the middle of concrete sidewalks and what used to be well-manicured landscaping. Several windows were broken from vandalism and boarded up to prevent further destruction.

  Driving through the parking lot, Bryan saw four teenagers playing basketball on the outdoor basketball court. Most kids stayed away from the school, with the exception of Halloween, when ghost stories and vandalism ran wild.

  He looked at the kids. That’s unusual, he thought. Surrounded by tall grass and small tree starts, the basketball court had just enough room for a half-court pickup game. Bryan observed the boys as his Crown Victoria rumbled toward the building. They’re actually pretty good ball players, he thought. One of the boys attempted a slam dunk, but just missed. The ball ricocheted off the rim and bounced into the tall grass near the side entrance where David Ray had entered the building for the last time.

  Bryan watched the boys carefully as his cruiser rumbled closer.

  For some reason the boy chasing the ball stopped dead in his tracks. He was transfixed—apparently afraid of something.

  “What the hell?” Bryan stopped the car and stepped out. His chest froze in fear.

  6th

  Lana Jones stood in the back of the auditorium at Lakewood Middle School in Sedona, Arizona, while the principal introduced her at their “character building” convocation. From the time she had written a book about her experience at Crescent Falls, she’d been a regular speaker at schools and universities across the country. At the age of thirty-seven, Lana remained an attractive brunette, sporting a glittery jean jacket, salmon blouse, and size 4 capris. She refused to live in the past. She managed to live with what happened, while maintaining an optimistic outlook on life. Regardless of the holes in her heart or the scars from the past, she pressed on. She stood in the back of the auditorium with her daughter Zoe.