Catch the Girl

by Melinda Woodhall

  “She’s taking on the leadership role, and has asked Tobias Putnam to help her, now that Jacob’s back in jail.” Taylor sighed, then lifted her chin. “I think they’re going to be okay.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, honey. It sounds like they were good to you before…well, before things started going wrong.”

  Sliding her sunglasses back on so that Barker wouldn’t see the fresh batch of tears, Taylor took his hand in hers and squeezed.

  As if sensing her mood, Barker squeezed back, then let go.

  “I’m gonna leave you to have a few minutes alone,” he said, clearing his throat. “I saw Dr. Horn’s car when we pulled in, and I’m thinking maybe I’ll go say hello.”

  Taylor blinked, then raised her eyebrows.

  “Since when have you started calling Reggie, Dr. Horn?”

  Barker blushed, looking around awkwardly, as if he wanted to avoid the conversation.

  “Well, she is your doctor, isn’t she? So, what’s the problem?”

  Shrugging, Taylor shook her head.

  “It isn’t a problem, Dad. You go say hi. Tell her hi from me, too.”

  As Barker turned to go, Taylor called after him.

  “But remember, Reggie’s my doctor, not yours, so don’t start telling her all your problems.”

  Barker didn’t respond to her playful comment. He just started walking toward the front gate where a small figure sat on a bench under a weeping willow.

  Taylor watched him walk away, glad that his stride was strong and his back straight. The doctors at the hospital had determined his collapse in the woods had been caused by dehydration and exhaustion. His heart was doing fine. They’d administered intravenous fluids, keeping him in overnight for observation, and he’d seemed okay since then.

  But Taylor’s pleasure at her father’s good health dimmed as she remembered that not everyone who had survived that terrible night was doing okay. During her recent visit to the commune, she’d noticed that Naomi had become withdrawn and depressed. When she’d asked Priscilla about it, the normally reserved woman had dissolved into tears, confiding that the doctor told Naomi that the toxic tea had likely caused her miscarriage.

  “Naomi was already devastated to have lost the baby, but to know that Judith made it happen, and that it could have been prevented…”

  Priscilla’s voice had trailed off. She was all too aware of the futility of all the thoughts of “what if” and “if only” her daughter kept playing over and over in her mind. Nothing any of them did now could change the heartache caused by the devil’s weed.

  The devil’s weed, or datura stramonium, as they’d come to know as its official name, had devastated them all. Only after suffering through weeks of withdrawal had Naomi and the rest of the congregation been able to return to some semblance of normal again.

  Taylor suddenly wondered if Eli had known about the devil’s weed, and if he’d recovered from the effects of the poisonous plant.

  No, his name’s not Eli, it’s Brandon. And he’s a victim, too.

  She knew her father still blamed Brandon Young for his role in the killings, but Taylor wasn’t so sure that was fair. The young man had been kidnapped as a small child, brainwashed by a psychopath his whole life, and then given a hallucinogenic poison that made him hear voices. What chance did he have to resist or refuse to go along with her murderous plans?

  Just the thought of a young boy growing up without a loving mother made Taylor’s eyes fill with tears again. She looked down at her mother’s name etched in marble and realized how lucky she’d been to have had such a wonderful mother.

  Who did Brandon Young have for a mother? A heartless serial killer.

  The image of Judith Dunkel’s evil face hovered in her mind, and Taylor closed her eyes and shook her head.

  No, I won’t let her hurt me anymore. I hope they lock her up someplace where she can never hurt anyone again. I hope they throw away the key.

  Opening her eyes, Taylor’s gaze fell on the little red stocking. She didn’t need to take out the note to remember what she’d written. As she stood in the cold air above her mother’s grave, her voice was quiet, but strong.

  “You might be wondering what’s in that note, which, by the way, is in a stocking that I knitted. Yep, I actually learned how to make something, Mom.”

  Taylor swallowed hard on the word, then cleared her throat.

  “Well, maybe it’s silly, but I asked Santa to make me and dad happy again. I mean, that’s what you always wanted for us, so I figured it’s the only thing I have left to give you.”

  She stood still, breathing in the cold air, surprised that she didn’t feel sad or lonely anymore. She wasn’t sure what she was feeling, but that was okay. She was okay.

  “Merry Christmas, Mom. I think I’m gonna go find dad now.”

  She looked up to a sky that was as blue as her mother’s eyes and smiled. It was time to go find her father. It was time to go home.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  The lights from the Christmas tree cast a festive glow over the boys’ heads as they crawled beneath the prickly branches to count their presents. Nessa laughed as Cole dragged out a book-sized box and groaned, before stuffing it back under the tree to look for something more exciting.

  “I’ve got more presents than Cole,” Cooper shouted, his smile revealing a gap where his front teeth used to be. “I’ve got six presents and he’s only got five.”

  “You both have the same number of present,” Nessa interjected, before an argument could erupt. “Although I’m not sure either of you deserve anything other than a bag of coal.”

  Balancing a tray of hot chocolate, Jerry shouldered his way through the kitchen door, laughing as he made his way to sofa.

  “You say that every year, Nessa, and yet every year you end up buying them more presents than the year before.”

  Nessa rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Yeah, well one of these years those two are gonna wake up to a bag of coal and nothin’ else.” She winked at Jerry. “And I’m gonna tell Santa that’s all they deserve, too.”

  Ignoring her threats, the boys returned to their respective piles, shaking each box vigorously, listening for any noise that might reveal the gift inside. Anything that sounded like clothes or books earned a hearty groan of despair.

  Jerry snuggled next to her on the sofa, handing her a cup of the hot cocoa and an iced sugar cookie in the shape of a snowman.

  “I thought we were saving these for Santa,” she said, biting off the snowman’s head. “What if he gets mad and skips the presents?”

  Cole rolled his eyes, but Cooper looked concerned. He tilted his head and frowned over at Nessa.

  “Do you really think Santa will skip our house, Mama?”

  “No, I don’t think so, little man,” Nessa replied. “He’s always come before.”

  Cooper contemplated her answer, then frowned again.

  “But this year I haven’t been that good. I threw that baseball through the window, and my room’s been a mess.”

  Holding back a smile, Nessa considered his words.

  “Well, everyone makes bad choices sometimes, but they usually get a second chance to set things right.”

  Cooper nodded and went back to his presents, seemingly happy with her answer. But Jerry was staring at her, one eyebrow raised.

  “You’ve changed your tune,” he said in mock confusion. “Lately you’ve been calling for all heads to roll, and now you’re saying everyone deserves a second chance?”

  “Not everyone,” Nessa clarified, sounding testy. “Not Judith Dunkel, or Angel Dunkel, or whatever her damn name is. She’s had all the chances she deserves. That woman’s definitely on my naughty list, and if I have anything to say about it, she’ll be getting a life sentence for Christmas.”

  Both Cole and Cooper looked over with wide eyes.

  “Ya’ll go on into the kitchen and eat your cookies in there.”

  She waited fo
r the boys to disappear through the door, then turned back to Jerry, her Christmas cheer deflated.

  “So, what’s your point, Jerry? Why are you trying to annoy me?”

  He laughed again, but this time Nessa didn’t join in.

  “I’m not trying to annoy you, Nessa, but I think you’re kidding yourself if you think you’re going to magically turn into some kind of hard-nosed cop so that they’ll make you the chief.”

  Incensed by his words, Nessa opened her mouth, then snapped it shut again. She stood up, walked to the front window, and looked out at the street, trying to calm her nerves before she said something she’d regret. She didn’t want to ruin anyone’s Christmas, especially her own.

  “I’m sorry if I’m misunderstanding what’s going on, but it just seems like you’re conflicted, and you won’t talk about it.”

  Sighing, Nessa walked back to the sofa and sat down. She took another bite of the snowman, followed the bite with a sip of hot chocolate, then slumped against the back of the sofa.

  “I am conflicted, Jerry. I can’t seem to figure out right from wrong anymore. Or who’s good and who’s bad.”

  Her mind spun with the events of the last year, and she tried to block out all the bad memories, all the bad guys, all their dirty deeds.

  Only it isn’t just the bad guys anymore is it, Nessa? Now there are even bad women going around raising hell.

  She looked at Jerry and shrugged.

  “A lot has happened lately. I guess it’s kinda getting to me. I just keep thinking and thinking.”

  Jerry reached out and took her hand.

  “Thinking about what?”

  “Thinking about our boys and how lucky we are that they’re home and safe. But then I think about someone like Brandon Young. Someone who was abducted when he was just five years old. That’s only a year younger than Cooper for goodness sake.”

  She tried to swallow but her throat was too dry. She tried sipping her hot chocolate, but that just started her coughing.

  “So, what then?” Jerry asked, his eyes curious. “You’re feeling sorry for Brandon Young? You think he shouldn’t be prosecuted for his role in the murders?”

  “I don’t know. I just feel like everything’s mixed up.”

  She ran a hand through her red curls, not sure how to say what she wanted to say.

  “It’s just, one day I’m answering to my chief of police, and the next day I’m arresting the guy. Then two weeks ago I track down a man who’s been involved in the brutal murders of two young girls, and today I’m feeling sorry for him.”

  She stared over at Jerry, shoulders slumping.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Maybe I’m not made of the right stuff to be in charge. Maybe I’m too soft, maybe-”

  “All right, I get it. But I definitely don’t agree. You are made of exactly the right stuff to be in charge. The examples you just gave prove that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Jerry stared at Nessa, all laughter gone, his eyes serious.

  “What I mean, is that Willow Bay needs a chief who can see beyond just the black and white of a situation. You’re that kind of person. You can see when a person is abusing power, and act to stop it. You can see when someone has been victimized and have mercy. Those are good traits for a leader, Nessa. It isn’t weakness that you’re describing. It’s called decency and fairness. Things that Kramer never had.”

  Dropping her eyes, Nessa felt a smile threaten.

  “You really think I’m chief material?”

  “I think you’re solid gold, Nessa. The best thing out there.”

  Pulling Jerry in for a hug, she let the smile spread into a wide grin.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Cole and Cooper had just finished icing a new batch of Christmas cookies when the doorbell rang. Nessa looked over at Jerry expectantly, but he just shrugged.

  “Maybe it’s Santa,” Cooper bellowed, running into the hall and swinging the front door open. “Oh, it’s just you.”

  He shuffled back into the room.

  “Mom! It’s for you.”

  Hurrying to the door, Nessa was surprised to see Jankowski leaning against the door frame.

  “Sorry to bother you at home, but you weren’t answering your phone, and there’s something on Channel Ten that I think you’re gonna want to see.”

  “Merry Christmas to you, too, partner.” Nessa said, sniffing at the air by the door. “Are you wearing a different cologne?”

  A blush started to creep up Jankowski’s neck, and he turned away, not answering her question.

  “Just turn on your television.”

  “Wait,” Nessa called, holding up the cup of milk she’d just poured. “Come in and have a drink.”

  Eyeing the milk with amusement, Jankowski shook his head.

  “I can’t stay. There’s…someone waiting for me in the car, and-”

  “Are you on a date? Is that why you’re wearing all that cologne?” Nessa looked over his shoulder, trying to see into the tinted windows of his Dodge

  Jankowski blocked her view, the blush deepening as she studied his face. He was definitely hiding something. Or someone.

  Grabbing her jacket off the hook by the door, Nessa charged past Jankowski, making a beeline for his Charger. As she stepped in front of the car, she met the eyes of the woman sitting in the passenger seat.

  Iris Nguyen smiled out at her. She gave Nessa a stiff little wave, then opened the door and climbed out.

  “Hi Nessa, how are you tonight?” Iris asked, a nervous smile pasted on her flushed face. “Are your little ones excited about Santa? Have they hung up their stockings yet?”

  Putting both hands on her hips, Nessa refused to be distracted.

  “Some detective I am. How come I didn’t know you were dating my partner, Iris?”

  A disgruntled voice sounded behind her.

  “Because this is the first date we’ve had,” Jankowski muttered between clenched teeth. “And from the looks of it, you’re going to make sure it’s the last date we ever have.”

  Grinning at Iris, Nessa motioned for her to come into the house.

  “It’s the holidays, you two. Come in. Have a drink and a cookie.”

  Nessa waited for Jankowski and Iris to troop inside before calling out to Jerry that they had visitors. When Jerry saw Jankowski and Iris, he immediately turned back to get the tray of cookies.

  “So, what’s the big story you couldn’t wait for me to see?”

  She switched on the television, clicking through the stations until she found Channel Ten. Her mouth fell open as she saw the headline.

  All Charges Dropped Against Accused Assailant, Oscar Hernandez, Amid Allegations of Police Misconduct.

  “What the heck happened?” Nessa asked. “When did it happen?”

  “Today, during the Hernandez pretrial hearing. His legal counsel discovered that Marc Ingram had never checked the defendant’s alibi,” Jankowski said. “It seems Ingram also ignored other evidence that would have eliminated Hernandez as a suspect.”

  Nessa frowned, confused as to why the story was breaking news.

  “If they just found this out today, how come Channel Ten jumped on it? I mean, police incompetence always makes for a good story, but a primetime, we-now-interrupt-your-program, news report?”

  The grim look on Iris’ face told Nessa that the medical examiner knew why the story was getting so much attention.

  “Another woman was attacked last night,” Iris confided. “It was pretty brutal. The crime scene techs found evidence at the scene that linked this new attack to the first one. Same gated community as the last. Same MO and signature.”

  Nessa gasped as she realized what they were saying.

  “And Oscar Hernandez was still in jail last night, right?”

  Jankowski nodded, his face hard.

  “Yeah, Ingram pushed the judge not to give the guy bail. Said he was a danger to society and a flight risk. Ends up the guy had an airtight alib
i for the night of the first attack, but Ingram didn’t follow up. Instead of going out and looking for the real perp, he locked up an innocent man.”

  Nessa grimaced, unable to hide her distress.

  “And the real perp attacked someone else.”

  “That’s what it looks like.”

  Jankowski’s eyes widened as he looked over at the television. A slim woman with a shiny bob and a bright-pink bomber jacket was trying to fend off reporters outside the Mayor’s office. A stocky reporter with thick glasses stuck a microphone in the woman’s face.

  “Hey, Gabby, it is true the police planted evidence? Is it-”

  Jerry flipped off the television, pointing to Cole and Cooper who stood in the doorway trying to see the screen.

  “We’ve got little eyes and ears here,” Jerry said. “And it’s Christmas Eve to boot.”

  Ushering Jankowski and Iris through the door and back to the Charger, Nessa wondered if there was anything she could have done to prevent Ingram from making such a tragic error of judgement.

  “I’m going to ask for the chief's job,” she told Jankowski without preamble. “I’d made my decision already, and now that Ingram has publicly disgraced the city with this new screw-up, I think the mayor and the city council will be looking for a different candidate.”

  “That’s a great idea.” Iris’s eyes shone with enthusiasm. “Willow Bay needs someone like you to clean things up.”

  “I agree, and I’ll back you, for sure,” Jankowski said. “But I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into. Now that the press has gotten a hold of the Hernandez mix-up, you can bet they’re going to keep hyping it up to increase ratings.”

  Nessa nodded, trying not to think of the difficulties ahead.

  “I’m not expecting it to be easy, you know.” Nessa gestured back toward the house. “But my boys live in this town, and I wanna make it safe for them and all the folks around here. If I don’t, who will?”

  “I guess you’re right,” Jankowski said. “At least I hope you are.”

  After the Charger had pulled away, Nessa saw that Jerry was standing on the porch. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest, wanting to enjoy a rare moment of quiet before the next storm rolled in.