Kill Her Again

2 9

They took Evan to the emergency room at Ludlow County General.

Though conscious after the collapse, he was dehydrated and only semi-coherent, and they all agreed it would be best to put him under observation. Ronnie, who worked at the hospital as a staff nurse, called in to get the boy bumped to the head of the line.

They drove in silence, suffering from a collective shell shock, unable or unwilling to talk about what they’d witnessed.

Anna relished the quiet.

When they arrived at the hospital, she decided to stay in the Suburban as Pope scooped Evan into his arms, then carried him in through the automatic doors, Worthington and Ronnie moving alongside them.

She had a feeling this probably wasn’t the first time they’d lived this particular scenario.

As they disappeared into the emergency room, Evan made eye contact and gave Anna a small, weak wave, breaking her heart into a thousand different pieces.

She was reminded of a moment shortly before college, when her cat, Zed, was diagnosed with a kidney ailment. She’d taken him to the veterinary clinic to be put to sleep, and the last she saw of him was when he turned to look at her with those big sad eyes as the nurse carried him away.

There was no reason to compare the two, but Anna couldn’t help herself. She had a sudden, vague sense that she might not be seeing Evan again, and she wasn’t sure why. His condition was not life-threatening. Bringing him here was only a precaution.

Yet the feeling persisted. Resonated.

You’re tired, she told herself. That’s all. Tired and weak.

Pope had suggested she see the doctor as well, but she’d refused.

“I’ll be fine,” she’d said, although “fine” was a relative term, wasn’t it?

The real reason she’d wanted to wait in the car was because she needed to be alone. To think. To wrap her head around what had happened.

There was no doubt now that Pope had been right. Jillian Carpenter was very much a part of her past, and the details of that past no longer came to her in fleeting images. The last moments of Jillian’s life were now a vivid part of Anna’s consciousness.

She remembered everything.

The terror. The loss of power. The pain.

And amidst it all was the sound of her mother’s voice. Calling to her. Singing that sad, familiar song.

To finally come out of her trance and find Evan beside her, holding her hand, had been a shock, to say the least. But she had felt the connection. Knew that her mother had somehow used this boy as a vessel to contact her. To help her. And without that help, without her mother’s call, Anna was certain she would have died right there along with Jillian Carpenter. Just as she would have died on that football field if Evan hadn’t warned Pope.

All of which meant only one thing to Anna. And that one thing-despite all the blood and the horror she’d seen of late, despite being so drained of energy that she could barely move-filled her with an almost indescribable feeling of joy. Of hope.

Her mother was watching over her.

Worthington was the first to return.

“Ronnie’s beside herself,” he sighed, as he climbed behind the wheel. “Thinks this is all her fault.”

“ Her fault? Why?”

“She thinks she should have kept better watch over Evan. She got up to use the bathroom, and when she came back he was gone. Says if she hadn’t left…”

“I might be dead,” Anna said. “And she had no more control over what happened than Evan did.”

Worthington nodded. “That’s what I told her, but she’s a sensitive woman. Seeing this kid go through so much is tough for her. Stirs up a lot of bad memories.”

“I can imagine.”

“Truth is, she still blames herself for what happened to Ben.”

Anna was surprised. “Why?”

“She’s a nurse,” Worthington said. “She thinks she should have seen the signs of Susan’s illness. God knows Susan and Ben were at the house enough in those last few weeks.”

“I won’t pretend to know all the details, but Ronnie’s no more to blame for that than you are. Or Pope.”

“Hopefully she’ll see that one day.”

He paused, lost in a memory, and Anna knew that he was deeply in love with his wife. He was a good man. And despite the toughness of his exterior, he was as sensitive as Ronnie was.

After a moment, he said, “I think I owe you an apology.”

“For what?”

“While you were under, I said some pretty crappy things. Practically accused you of being a scam artist.”

“Relax,” Anna said. “I was too far gone to hear you. And if I were on your end, I’d probably think the same thing.”

Worthington seemed to struggle with a thought, then said, “I’ve never admitted this to anyone, but I’m not as much of a hard-core realist as I pretend to be. That story I told you about the cats? I was as scared as the rest of those guys. Maybe more.”

“I think I already knew that.”

His eyebrows raised. “Oh? How?”

“Based on what you told me back at the Fairweather house. That when you work a crime scene long enough, the victims start to talk to you. A hard-core realist wouldn’t even think to say something like that.”

He smiled. “Looks like I’m busted.”

She shrugged. “I’m a trained investigator.”

“I used to think I was, too, until I saw what happened between you and Evan. There’s no training on earth that can prepare you for something like that. I could chalk it up to a couple of nutcases feeding off each other, but I know that isn’t true.”

Now Anna smiled. “Welcome to the dark side.”

Worthington held a hand up in protest. “I’m not quite there yet. Just dipping my toes in. But do me a favor and don’t tell Pope. I hate it when he gloats.”

“Your secret is safe,” Anna said.

“Good. Because what I’m about to tell him is gonna knock him sideways.”

Her smile disappeared. “What do you mean?”

His gaze shifted and he nodded toward the hospital. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

She turned and saw Pope exiting through the automatic doors, looking a bit glazed, undoubtedly another victim of the blame game.

He came up to the open passenger window. “Ronnie’s sticking around for a while. I’m thinking maybe I should, too.”

“Can’t do that, Cuz. We’ve got someplace to be.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Something I found out before all the craziness started. Climb in and I’ll tell you on the way.”

“What about Evan?”

“Ronnie’ll do what needs to be done. Now, come on, get in.”

Pope reluctantly opened the door and climbed in, pulling the seat belt across his chest. He turned, looking at Anna.

“You feeling okay?”

“I’ve been better,” she said, which was probably the under-statement of the last few centuries.

“I don’t know what happened today, but you scared the shit out of me.”

“Out of all of us,” Worthington said.

Anna grinned. “Glad to be of service.”

They were on the I-15, headed toward the state line, when Pope said to Worthington, “You wanna tell me what you’re up to?”

Even with the air conditioner on, the late-afternoon heat was oppressive, and Anna was slumped in back, struggling to stay awake. A month in a feather bed would be bliss, she thought. With a nice ocean breeze and an unlimited supply of ice-cold tea.

Worthington glanced at Pope. “You look a little nervous, Cuz.”

“That’s because you’re headed in exactly the opposite direction that I want to be traveling right now.”

“Don’t worry, this doesn’t have a thing to do with those two goons we’ve got locked up. I couldn’t care less about them at the moment.”

“Then where are we going?”

“To see Susan.”

Anna could almost hear the scratch of the record. She sat up, fully awake. She couldn’t see his face, but she could tell by the sudden stiffness of Pope’s body that he wasn’t happy. And the heat radiating from him had little to do with the desert sun.

“Are you trying to be funny?” he asked. “Because there’s not a fucking thing funny about what you just said.”

“Just hear me out,” Worthington told him. “While you two were in the living room, I ran Jillian Carpenter’s name through the system and came up with a major hit. The girl was ten years old, murdered by an unknown assailant in Salcedo, California, back in 1981.”

Pope looked surprised. “Salcedo?”

“That’s what I said.” Worthington reached into his shirt pocket and brought out a folded sheet of paper. “I wasn’t able to get access to the full file, so the details are sketchy, but take a look at this.”

Pope took it from him. “What is it?”

“A list of witnesses who were interviewed by the Salcedo police.”

“And?” Pope said.

“Look at the first name on the list.”

Pope unfolded the paper and read the name, his entire body going rigid. He seemed unable to speak.

“What’s wrong?” Anna asked. “Who is it?”

They flew past a highway sign that read:

WOMEN’S CORRECTIONAL FACILITY-10 MILES.

“Suzie,” Worthington said. “Aka Susan Leah Oliver.”

Anna felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. The little girl in that alley with Jillian Carpenter was Pope’s ex-wife.