by Dale Mayer
“Of course,” he said. “When you’re in the middle of it, it’s so darn close it almost chokes you because you have to live it so intensely, but, as soon as you get a little distance, you can see how different it truly was. Even then you’ll always have it colored by your perception of what you went through.”
“It would be nice to think that everything that I feel and am afraid of is wrong,” she said, frowning. “That would make me very happy, but it doesn’t feel like it’s wrong.”
“We won’t worry about right or wrong either,” he said. “We’ll let it go and just believe in you.”
She shook her head. “Believing in me has got to be the hardest thing.”
“Nope,” he said, “but it is the most important thing. You have to trust who you are right now, and, if we find that you did some terrible things back then under duress and via torture, we’ll deal with it.”
“No,” she said, “I don’t think I can.”
“You don’t have a choice. This is what’s upon us right now. No walking away from it anymore.”
“I could,” she said. “I could get into that stolen truck and just run.”
“You could,” he said, “but you won’t run far or fast or for very long.”
“Because he’s found me?”
“He’s found you, and he’s tracked you once. Now he’s got a good idea of your energy again, and he won’t be letting you walk for long.”
“Then let him catch me,” she said impulsively. “Use me as bait. Come on. You know you want to.”
He looked up at her, as he put another bite of eggs into his mouth, shaking his head. “Just like you know where your moral code is, I know where mine is too,” he said gently. “Crossing that line is not something I can live with.”
“But being hunted for the rest of my life is not something I can live with,” she said, “and what if I’m not the only person he’s got his eye on?”
“I definitely got the impression that you were his primary focus,” Hunter said, looking at her calmly.
“But maybe that’s wrong. Maybe he’s not just after me. Maybe it’s me and half-a-dozen others. Maybe that’s why he took all these years to find me,” she said, waving her fork in the air. “Maybe he went and collected everybody else first.”
Hunter studied her for a long moment. “Maybe.”
Just then his phone rang.
*
Hunter pulled out his phone, looked at it, smiled, and said, “It’s Stefan. I’ll be back soon.” He snagged the last bite on his plate and popped it into his mouth, as he dropped his fork, picked up his coffee, and walked out of the room. “Hey, Stefan. What have you got?”
“Is she around?”
“She’s in the other room, eating breakfast,” he said, stepping out onto the deck and closing the door behind him.
“Good. Make sure that you’re someplace she can’t see you.”
“Fine. So what’s going on?”
“Well, we found something about her birth.”
“And?”
“Well, it’s not completely clear—we don’t have any legal documents. But we found an article, from way back when, regarding two girls who were sold by their mother … to a cult—”
“Sold to a cult? Well, that could explain some things.”
“Exactly. Twin girls.”
“Twins?”
“Yes.”
Then it hit him. “Oh, my God! Lizzy.”
“That’s what I’m wondering,” Stefan said. “If they were twins, it would make a sad kind of sense and would also explain why it’s easy for Lizzy to keep track of her. It would also explain why Beth’s deliberately forgetting her history. If she can block off all that, she can block off her sister’s access to her.”
“Exactly.” He sat down on the armchair farthest away on the deck and said, “Wow! Poor Beth.”
“Poor both of them. Apparently they disappeared somewhere about ten days before their fourth birthday.”
“And what about the mother?”
“They never found the mother, and that’s why the case remained open but cold, which could be related to the fact that the mother received a large chunk of change, supposedly from a friend, just a few days after the disappearance.”
“So the mother was investigated?”
“Not right away. She professed to not know what friend had given her the money, and the authorities had trouble tracking it back then. They had no direct evidence of any illegal wrongdoing on the mother’s end, and the funds came from a private anonymous offshore account. The authorities thought she had sold the twins, but that was as far as they got, when she upped and disappeared. But the money was never touched. So they are presuming she’s deceased.”
Hunter shook his head. “Just when you think you’ve seen the extent of the depravity of the human condition—”
“We haven’t seen a fraction of it. So many of our recent cases have involved horrible abuse that preyed on kids, all in the name of various religions and motivations,” Stefan said. “We could be looking at that scenario here too.”
“How sad for Beth,” Hunter said. “It would explain that sense of loss she always feels.”
“I wondered about that too because, if you think about it, losing a twin is never easy—whether separated by death or by geography. And, if Lizzy is her twin, but Beth’s not in contact with her, there would always be that sense that Beth has lost her, but not necessarily that she’ll ever get her back again.”
“No, I know. I hear her talking to Lizzy sometimes. I not even sure if she’s completely aware of it.”
“She probably is, whether she thinks she is or not. I don’t know. She could be just calling out, like to see if she’s listening in or not.”
“I get that,” he said, “but I think there’s more to this than we know so far.”
“Absolutely there is.”
“Beth suggested today that we set a trap and let Peter take her, as long as we follow along and save her—even though she acknowledged having a problem with the fact that she spent no small amount of time crying out for help and nobody came.”
“What she’s volunteering for is her own worse nightmare,” Stefan said.
“Well, it’s a nightmare for anybody, but yeah.”
“Interesting that she would suggest it though.” Stefan asked humorously, “And yet she doesn’t want to recall her own memories?”
“No, she’s afraid she was a terrible person in that previous life, and she doesn’t want to remember it, if she was.”
“Even though most likely under terrible duress, so she wouldn’t be responsible.”
“I don’t think that matters enough to let herself off the hook,” Hunter said.
“What do you think about her idea?”
“I think it’s a terrible plan,” Hunter said immediately. “She’s one scary female, and she’s got abilities that we don’t know and understand, but no way will I let Peter have her. I don’t want to see anything bad happen to her.”
“Of course not,” Stefan said, “and, after all this time you two have shared, I’m sure there’s even more of a connection between you and her.”
“Sure, there is, but it’s not something I want to talk about.”
Hunter could almost hear the smile in Stefan’s voice as he replied, “If you say so.”
“I’ve got other things to deal with. He left a portrait in the pantry overnight.”
“Who did?”
“This asshole, Peter. A painting of Beth, years ago as a child. Like a, … it’s got multiple pictures of her.”
“Take a photo of it and send it to me,” he said. And, with that, Stefan rang off.
Hunter walked back inside, noting Beth was gone from the kitchen table. Hunter headed toward the painting and took several photos, sending them to Stefan, texting, It’s a weird painting, but she remembers doing it herself but thought that somebody else was helping her.
When he didn’t get an answer, figuring that S
tefan would still be studying it for a while, he walked from the kitchen area into the other first-floor rooms, only Beth wasn’t there. He cleaned up their breakfast dishes, still looking around for her, and, when he didn’t see her, he walked upstairs to her bedroom—empty as well. Unfortunately more than empty. Like it had been cleaned out.
With panic in his voice, he called out for her, “Beth, where are you?” He called over and over again, searched inside, then outside, before finally calling Stefan on the phone. “She’s gone.”
“Yeah, she’s gone,” he said, his voice grim. “I’m sorry you didn’t show me that picture before.”
“Why is that?”
“Because it’s a very special painting,” he said. “I don’t have time to explain, but, in many ways, it illuminates so much. We have to find her, and we have to find her now.”
Chapter 29
Beth hadn’t given Hunter the slightest indication that she was leaving. She was already off the property and racing for Peter’s stolen truck that she’d left hidden. She had everything with her hopefully, so she wouldn’t leave any trace, but she had also taken everything from her stalker’s backpack as well. Reaching the truck, she slid inside, turned on the engine, and headed for the highway, as fast as she could.
She was heading back to—the word home even came to mind but was immediately discarded in favor of cell, captivity, compound, or any other number of depressing and scary names. Bits and pieces circulated through her brain, letting her know that something stirred deep inside. She wasn’t sure how or why. Maybe seeing Peter again. She didn’t know. But, as she kept driving forward, following her instincts, she was at a crunch point.
She didn’t want to live like this, constantly looking over her shoulder. She had fooled herself into thinking she could do it for a while, but that wasn’t lasting. Not effective. Not soothing. And everybody around her was getting hurt. She knew in her heart of hearts that Sugar Mama would still be alive if not for Beth.
And, if she stayed around Hunter, it would be the same thing for him too. And the last thing she wanted to do was bring these predators to Stefan and his wife. None of this was a good scenario, and Beth was at the root of it all. She didn’t know why Lizzy kept telling her to remember. She didn’t know why Lizzy wouldn’t leave her alone. Beth called out from the truck, “I’m coming, and I want to have this out, one way or another.”
A mocking laughter floated through the inside of the cab. Even Nocturne straightened at the sound then relaxed on the seat beside her.
Beth gripped the steering wheel firmly, hating that her palms were already sweaty. “I’m hours away,” she said. “You can just calm down and let me get there.”
Again, the same mocking laughter came.
Beth shuddered, hating what she was heading for, her stomach already revolting. Part of her said to return to safety, to Hunter, that he would help. Another part of her said there was no help for it, and Hunter would just get hurt, like Sugar Mama. Beth hated to admit that she cared.
She’d spent a lifetime not caring, a lifetime pushing people away, keeping herself locked away, hidden, particularly after Lizzy had made such a point of betraying her. Beth just couldn’t do some things. And she knew that Hunter, with his caring attitude and that smooth deep husky voice had hit her at a time in her life where she was at a point of no return. She could deal with this and have a future, or she could deal with this and have no future, or she could just not deal with it at all and still have no future.
The clarity of that scenario helped her to decide, come what may. She could have had Hunter on her side, but he’d already refused to let her become bait, and, since Peter wanted only her, it made no sense to involve Hunter any further. He’d kept her safe somewhat so far, but she could require only so much of him. Just then Stefan’s voice crept into her head.
You are being foolish.
Well, that’s on me, she replied.
It doesn’t have to be this way.
If you know where I am, then I’m sure you’re about to tell Hunter.
He knows you’re gone.
Good luck following me, she stated. This can’t go on. You know that. Silence came from the other end, and she smiled and nodded to herself. I know you agree with me, she said, but Hunter won’t.
He doesn’t want to see you hurt.
No, and I don’t want to see him hurt either, she said. They killed Sugar Mama. You know that.
I know, he said, his voice soft and gentle, almost the barest of a whisper in her mind. They couldn’t leave any witnesses.
I can’t have that happen to anybody else, she said. Every time I get close to anybody, it’s either betrayal or death.
You can’t blame yourself for this.
Why not? she said.
Do you have any family?
What’s that supposed to mean?
Do you ever remember, even way back when?
No, she said. Remember the memories? Remember that voice in my head? Surely you’ve heard it, telling me to remember.
I wondered, he said, his tone thoughtful. I heard something, but I wasn’t sure who it came from.
I’m not sure who it’s coming from either, she said, but I think it’s Lizzy, and I don’t know why she wants me to remember anything.
I think it’s important that you do remember.
Why? So I can remember all the people I’ve hurt, the things I’ve done, the horrors of my world? How will that help me at all? she cried out in frustration. Not having anybody to hit out at, she slammed her fist against the steering wheel. I just want this to stop. I want to go away and live the life of a good person, not that horrible human being I was.
So, it’s not that you don’t remember but you’re deliberately not remembering.
She frowned at that. Sounds like splitting hairs to me.
He chuckled. We have all kinds of safety mechanisms, he said. And yours is to not remember.
If that means safety for me as a person, then it’s all fine, she said. I had a shitty upbringing. I had a terrible childhood and an even worse adolescence, she said. Surely now that I’ve got a chance for a clean slate, I should be allowed to have a future.
Absolutely you should.
Then don’t stop me.
I’m not planning on stopping you, he said. I was hoping to help you.
And how do you expect to do that?
How about backup? he said. And that’s just a start.
Everybody who comes will get hurt, she said. Can’t you guys understand that? You don’t know what you’re facing.
Maybe we don’t, he said, but you’re not explaining it either.
Because I can’t, I don’t even know myself, she said, the frustration once again spilling outward and over. You don’t know what it’s like to not know.
No, I don’t. But I do know, he said, that there’s always more than one option.
No, there isn’t. Not this time, she said. In this scenario the best option is the only one I’m willing to look at, and that’s for nobody else to get hurt. Especially Hunter.
Ah. What about yourself?
I’ve been hurt so many times before, what is one more? she said, tired, fatigued, with a sense of who-gives-a-shit overwhelming her. It’s hard for me to even realize everything that’s gone on in my life, but I know I can’t have it continue like this. I need to be free, and I need to know that something is out there.
Something for you?
Some purpose to living. There. She’d said it. If this is all there is, she said, I don’t want it. I need it to disappear.
And if it doesn’t?
Then no point in going on.
So simply put and yet clear as a bell.
I know you don’t understand that, she said, but I would prefer death over this.
Don’t do anything foolish, he ordered.
Foolish? she said. You mean, anything else foolish.
You have help this time.
Supposedly I had help all those years ago
too, she snapped. You got away. I didn’t.
His voice broke when he whispered, I know. I didn’t even know you were still there.
Well, I was a new recruit. Remember? she said, with bitterness. I wasn’t given a whole lot of choice.
No, that’s true, he said. Anybody who was there didn’t get any choice.
But you managed to get away.
And so did you, later, he said. You don’t have to go back.
I do though because only part of me got away. The rest, the memories, are still there.
You said you didn’t want to remember.
I don’t, she said, but I don’t think that’s a choice any longer. And, with that, she slammed him out of her mind, then closed and locked the door. “Take that message, Stefan.”
And, of course, there was no response. There couldn’t be. She’d made sure of it. Groaning, tired, sad, and feeling more alone than she ever had in her short life, she drove steadily on into the night.
*
“What do you mean, she’s going back to the compound?” Hunter was stunned. “It’s a destroyed building. What is there to go back to?”
“I don’t know,” Stefan said. “You did say one building is still standing, right?”
“Sure. The part with the offices and the files that were pretty well destroyed.”
“Well, they’d taken everything they wanted, but something still draws her back there,” Stefan said.
“And that’s pretty sad,” Hunter said, turning to look around him. “But nothing is there.”
“Something is—something that’s important—and she has to go there.”
“Well, that’s easy enough,” he said, grabbing the keys to the motorcycle and shoving them into his pocket. “I’ll be hours though.”
“She’s not that far ahead of you. You’ll catch up in no time.”
“Sure, but catching up isn’t the same thing in this case. She doesn’t want me around, so I’ll have to stay hidden.”
“And I get that,” he said, “but you can’t be too hidden. She’s heading for whatever crunch time there is. She did say a couple interesting things though.”
