Kill Her Again

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There were stars on the ceiling.

Anna saw them the moment she opened her eyes. The shades had been drawn and the room, while not quite dark, was dim enough for the stars to shine. They had been carefully painted in Day-Glo yellow against a dark blue sky and were surrounded by multi-colored planets.

Anna turned her head and took in the rest of the room. Posters on the wall: Kobe Bryant executing a perfect three-point toss, Homer Simpson munching on a donut.

The dresser held a TV/DVD combo unit with a stack of Disney movies next it. A gaming console. Glove and baseball. A collection of tiny action figures, lined up for battle.

Obviously a boy’s room. But whose?

As soon as she sat up, Anna knew. On the nightstand next to the bed was a double-hinged picture frame, one side showing a photo of a freckle-faced boy on his dad’s lap-Pope and his son, Benjamin.

The other side was blank.

Was she in Vegas? That didn’t seem likely. The last thing she remembered was Pope getting in her face outside the coffee shop, the sun beating down on her so hard she thought she was going to pass out.

And she’d been crying. The events of the night, the visions, thoughts of her mother, the man in the red cap, the burns on her neck, Pope’s insistence that Evan was psychic, her belief that she herself might be psychic-hell, the last few weeks of her sad, sorry life-had all been too much for her to bear. An enormous pileup of physical and emotional freight that had caused a cave-in.

Overwhelmed was as good a word as any.

But the chances of Pope driving her forty miles to sin city were fairly remote, and this definitely wasn’t a suite at the Oasis.

So, she was still in Ludlow. But where?

Hearing voices from another room, Anna got to her feet and discovered she wasn’t wearing shoes. She found them at the foot of the bed, quickly slipped them on, then moved to the door and opened it a crack, peeking out.

Across a narrow hallway was a kitchen, bright sunlight streaming in through its windows. An attractive woman in her mid-thirties was framed by the kitchen doorway, talking to someone out of sight.

“Look at you,” she said. “When’s the last time you had a full night’s sleep and a decent meal?”

“Don’t start,” a voice told her.

Pope.

“We’ve been worried about you, Danny. Especially Jake. You’re so isolated out there. And living so close to the prison-that’s just creepy.”

“Turns out I’ve been evicted,” Pope said. “I won’t be going back anytime soon.”

“Good. We’ve got plenty of room here.”

“That might not be a good idea.”

“Why?”

“Take my word for it,” he told her.

“Because of your friend? Invite her to stay awhile, too.”

A small laugh. “We aren’t exactly friends. I barely know her.”

“You wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble of bringing her here if she didn’t mean something to you. She could just as easily be lying in the back of an EMT wagon.”

“Somebody collapses in your arms, you tend to feel responsible for them.”

The woman smiled. “Of course it doesn’t hurt she looks like a supermodel.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Oh, please. Just tell me this isn’t another one of your conquests.”

“You don’t think much of me, do you?”

“What’s to think about?” the woman said. “Back in high school, you would’ve come after me if Jake hadn’t put a stop to it.”

“Good old Jake,” Pope said. “Ruined it for everyone.”

They laughed. And while the laughter seemed a bit forced, even melancholy, there was a warm camaraderie between them that Anna envied. She had few friends and less family and spent most of her time on the job. She’d never been close to her father. After her mother died, she’d been cared for by a succession of nannies, some good, some bad, but none of them worth remembering.

She hadn’t known Pope for more than a couple hours, yet she knew he was a man who kept his pain private. But at least he had the option of sharing it with people who cared about him. Like this woman.

Anna didn’t have that option.

She did, however, know where she was now.

Worthington’s house.

Why they had a special room for Benjamin Pope wasn’t quite clear.

As the woman and Pope continued to laugh, the woman’s gaze shifted slightly. “You still hungry, hon? You want another bowl of cereal?”

“No thank you.”

Evan. Subdued yet polite.

“You want to go lie down again? I can put the TV on. Find some cartoons.”

“Is Kimmie coming here?”

The woman’s smile froze on her face as Anna’s gut tightened. They hadn’t told him yet.

Why hadn’t they told him?

Turning, she moved to the TV set on the dresser and quickly searched through the pile of movies. When she found the one she wanted, she stepped into the hall and a moment later was standing in the kitchen doorway.

“Hey, kiddo, look what I found.”

She held up a copy of The Jungle Book.

Three pairs of surprised eyes turned to her. Evan, who sat at a small dining table next to Pope, flew across the room, wrapping his arms around her waist-a move that both startled and pleased Anna.

She tousled his hair. “Easy, hon, I’m a little banged up.”

“Did you find Kimmie?”

“We’re gonna have to talk about that. But why don’t we give good old Mowgli a spin first?”

Evan nodded. “Okay. Will you watch with me?”

Anna exchanged looks with Pope and the woman, who she could only assume was Worthington’s wife. She gave Evan a squeeze.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she said.

Most people in law enforcement would agree that the best way to break bad news to a family member is to simply come out and say it. But it’s never easy. Never tidy. And reactions may vary, but they’re never good.

Evan’s was no exception.

They were sitting in the Worthingtons’ living room, halfway through the movie, Evan’s interest in Mowgli and the bare necessities waning, when she finally told him.

“Kimmie won’t be coming home,” she said.

Evan looked up at her. “Why not?”

“She’s with your mommy.” Red Cap’s words tumbled through her head. “She’s with the angels now.”

“No,” Evan said. “I want her back. They have to come back.”

But he knew that wouldn’t happen and he burst into tears, throwing himself against Anna, pressing his head into her chest. And she did her best to comfort him for the second time in the last several hours, murmuring softly that he’d be okay, that everything would be okay.

But it wouldn’t be.

All these years later, Anna still lived with her pain. And while the worst of it had passed, a dull, persistent ache continued to plague her and she knew it always would.

She supposed the fact that Evan’s father was still in the picture was some small consolation for the boy, but she didn’t imagine Mr. Rock and Roll’s involvement in his life would ever amount to much.

Something she could relate to.

They were orphans. Both of them. And as she glanced at Pope, who sat in an armchair across from her, she saw the face of yet another orphan.

What a sorry bunch they were.

What a sorry bunch indeed.