Inevitable Sentences (20 page)

Priscilla hesitated. She wasn’t about to hand over a lethal weapon to a serial killer. Her own safety was more of a concern. “I’ll give the gun to Lizzie. She’s the one who asked for it and she’s the one I trust.” Was that wise to say? Her comment might put Chad on the defensive. Too late. She turned from Chad and walked to the rear of the truck.

Chad followed so close to Priscilla he nearly touched her. Was he afraid she would run? Where would she go without her friend?

The doors to the refrigerated area were ajar. Priscilla hoisted herself inside and called out, “Lizzie? It’s Priscilla.”

Something slammed into her head, and the world went black.

W
HEN PRISCILLA AWAKENED SHE
had difficulty focusing. For a few moments she couldn’t remember where she was or how long she had been there. Shortly it all came back. She was meeting Lizzie and Chad at Dead River Falls. Where were they? Had they left her there? She placed her hand on the lump at the back of her head. Chad. What had he done?

The truck was as dark as a cave. Priscilla tried to sit up. Her hand pressed against a pliable bulk. She was lying on top of something. What? She felt around and then screamed, “Lizzie?”

“She’s dead, bitch, like I thought you were.”

Priscilla could hear Chad’s voice coming from inside the back of the truck, but she couldn’t see him. She couldn’t see anything.

“I didn’t hit you hard enough, I see.”

Priscilla rolled off Lizzie’s body, struggling with reality. This could not be happening.

Why hadn’t Lizzie listened to her? Why hadn’t she turned Lizzie in before the escape? Why? Why? Why? Her tears felt like icicles.

Priscilla rose onto her hands and knees. The pain from the head wound shouted at her, but she had to ignore it. She patted her hand around the floor looking for her purse, immediately found it, and searched the contents. The gun was gone. Did she really think Chad would have left it there for her to find?

“Looking for this?”

Priscilla felt the frigid barrel of the gun against her temple. She said nothing. What was going to happen to her? Chad was a cold-blooded murderer. What chance did she have to stay alive?

Chad pulled Priscilla’s hair, yanking her head back. Pain screamed in her brain.

“I have a score I need to settle—one that has burned deep in my soul for as long as I can remember. You and Lizzie are both useless to me. You both did your jobs and now you’re in the way.”

Priscilla opened her mouth to plead for her life, but a loud bang resonated off the truck walls and echoed throughout the forest until the sound was swallowed by the falls.

Blood trickled down the back of Priscilla’s head and lodged in a pool at her collar. Perhaps dying was for the best. She wouldn’t have to cope with the humiliation of her actions, beginning with Dwayne. She wouldn’t have to face Celeste. She wouldn’t have to face her mother. She would never, ever have to face herself.

Perhaps this was what she had planned all along.

Did she hear a car drive away?

Colors danced before her like an aurora borealis. Then it gave way to darkness, which wrapped around her and dragged her into a cave.

C
ELESTE AND
A
DRIAN WERE
cleaning up the kitchen after a special Sunday dinner of ham, scalloped potatoes, roasted string beans, applesauce, and hot, fresh-from-the-oven Lighthouse Bread. “Comfort food for a stormy night,” Celeste had commented earlier. The aroma still hung in the air and wafted through the entire house.

A crackling fire warmed the living room. The flames flickered, offering a light show on the nearby wall while a string quartet played Mozart softly over the radio. The music could barely block the sound of the steady blasts of wind and snow against the windows, but even that couldn’t diminish the serene mood of the household. Celeste stopped midway through wiping a pan and surveyed her surroundings. For the moment everyone appeared content and unafraid. She wished it would always be this way, no matter who resided in the safe house. She sighed happily, returned to drying the pan, and stowed it in a cupboard.

Adrian wrapped the leftover ham in foil. “This will make great sandwiches tomorrow.”

“Ummm. The thought has me hungry all over again.” Celeste licked her lips. She hung her blue striped apron on a hook near the stove and smoothed her sweater into place over her slacks.

Adrian put the ham in the refrigerator, then grabbed a soapy sponge from the sink and cleaned the counters and stove. She hummed along with the Mozart piece.

Lorraine and Marcy were finishing up the children’s baths. Their screeches and laughter floated down the stairs. Celeste could only imagine what the bathroom looked like.

A five-year-old Pilar, splashing bubbles in her bathtub, flashed into Celeste’s mind. She could hear Pilar’s high-pitched giggles as clearly now as then. Celeste would always remember bath time with her daughter as one of the happiest times of the day, as it was today with these children.

Tomika was picking up toys and straightening up the living room. Celeste knew that all the women looked forward to a couple of hours of quiet once the children were tucked into their beds. She also enjoyed that pleasant time of each day to read or chat. Sometimes they even watched a chick flick like
Bridget Jones’s Diary
or
The Devil Wears Prada.
There was nothing like a chick flick to take their minds off the troubles in the world. If truth were told, however, Celeste much preferred Masterpiece Theater or a classic like
Sense and Sensibility.

The lights flickered on and off a few times, interrupting Celeste’s pleasant thoughts. “We better get the lanterns out and ready,” she directed in a calm voice, not wanting to alarm the women. “In fact, let’s light a few right now. That way we won’t be thrown into the dark unprepared if the lights do go out.”

While Adrian readied the lanterns, Celeste searched for the flashlights and placed them in strategic and handy areas about the house on both floors. She stopped at a living room window that overlooked the lake but couldn’t see a thing. “I’m glad Priscilla didn’t come today. She very well could have gotten stuck in some desolate place.”

Celeste had an odd feeling about Priscilla’s absence. She didn’t believe Priscilla was totally truthful about why she couldn’t be at the lighthouse. She had also sensed something was terribly wrong. Her whole body tingled with foreboding. Was she overreacting?

Adrian joined her at the window. “Right. Who knows how long it would take for someone to find her. She could have died in this.”

“Kip and Beth also had the good sense not to trek out here.” Celeste remembered her first trip to the lighthouse, the twenty-five miles of mostly uninhabited countryside. Although it had been sunny and warm then, she’d still felt like she was traveling deep into the unknown. “I wonder if I’ll be able to get to the hospital tomorrow to pick up Max.”

“If you don’t, he’ll know why and he’ll have to be tolerant and wait.” Adrian lit the newly purchased battery lanterns—the last four in the store’s stock—and hung one in the kitchen, two in the living room and one on the stairway. It would be enough light to allow them to maneuver until they lit the kerosene lamps. “The way the snow is piling up, he might not be able to get out of there, even if an ambulance took him to his apartment. You heard the forecast—a possible two feet.” She smiled at Celeste. “Remember—you’ve taught us to expect the unexpected.”

“Yes, I did. So it’s a good idea that I started the van about two hours ago to make sure it would run in case we needed it in an emergency.” Celeste faced Adrian. “It’s also a good thing that you and the others have kept the driveway plowed from the woods to the highway. If we do need to get out, we can. Of course there’s no reason to believe we’ll have to. Nevertheless, we should always be prepared.” What tugged at her to make her believe that this possibility was closer than she wished?

The scampering of footsteps drew both their attentions to the stairway. The children had descended in their pajamas and slippers. Celeste had recently bought them slippers that looked like little animals—bunnies, cats and dogs—and now, every inch of her body warmed to the sight. She couldn’t wait to see these little ones toppling down the stairs on Christmas morning.

“We’re ready for bed,” McKenna, one of Adrian’s twins, announced.

“Come over and give me a big hug and kiss good night,” Celeste said.

Every child except the babies, Matthew and Gemma, marched forward. Celeste nestled her nose into each child’s shampooed hair, wanting life to always be as sweet as that scent.

When they had all hugged and kissed Celeste, their mothers took them to their beds to read one bedtime story and tuck them in for the night. One—if the moms were lucky enough to get away with reading only one book. “It’s my turn to choose the book tonight,” Logan insisted with absolute determination as they tramped up the stairs.

“Sleep well and have happy dreams,” Celeste called out to the group heading to their beds. Thankfully, the children suffered fewer bad dreams with each passing day in this safe haven.

When the last child and mother vanished into their rooms, Celeste sat in a rocker near the fire. She had decided rather than read she’d listen to the music and wait for the women to return. Their chats had become therapeutic for all of them.

The hum of women’s voices awakened Celeste. She must have dozed off while she awaited their return.

“Would you like to go to bed, Celeste?” Adrian asked.

“And miss this delicious time alone with all of you? Not on your life.” Celeste stood, stretched, and placed another log on the fire. “It’s a good thing Doug brought the wood out last week. Who would have guessed we’d need it this early in the season?”

“Yes,” Adrian said dreamily.

Could Max have been right? Adrian and Doug were attracted to each other. How delightful!

“I’ll put water on for tea,” Marcy offered as Lorraine plopped onto the couch. Tomika sat down next to her.

“Good idea.” Celeste returned to the rocker. The grandfather clock sounded ten bells. “It seems it takes longer and longer to get those kids bathed and in bed.”

“We did linger a while over our scrumptious dinner,” Marcy said with more cheer in her voice than Celeste had heard since she arrived. “Good old-fashioned comfort food.” Now she sounded like Celeste. “Well the children won’t have school tomorrow because of the weather,” Marcy went on. “Since all the public schools have been canceled, it didn’t matter when they got to bed.”

Celeste smiled. The children didn’t go to public school while they lived at the safe house. She couldn’t take the chance that any one of them would be discovered and tracked down by their mother’s abuser. She shuddered.

Nevertheless, Celeste had an agreement with the local system to homeschool them as best she could until they moved on and could attend school without fear. She tried to give the children the same days off as the ones the public schools did. It made them feel closer to being normal.

The teapot whistled and Marcy jumped up. “I’ll get it.” No one argued with her and Tomika followed her to help. As usual, Lorraine didn’t offer any assistance.

In a few minutes Marcy appeared with a tray of cups, the pot steaming with Sleepy Time tea, and a plate of gingersnap cookies.

“I doubt any of us needs help to get to sleep.” Celeste pointed to the tea. “We’ve all done our share of labor today.” A movement at the window caught her eye. Probably the snow or perhaps a twig caught on the wind.

Each woman poured a cup of the hot brew, snuggled into their seats, and sipped quietly. From time to time the crunch of someone biting into a cookie broke the silence.

“Did I hear something at that window?” Adrian asked.

Tomika giggled. “Lorraine. Quit chewing so loudly.”

Lorraine snorted. “Right. As if you could hear chewing above this storm.”

A particularly strong gust rocked the building.

Marcy shuddered. “I hate this storm. It makes us all imagine things.”

“No, really. I heard something.” Adrian bolted up, staring at a window, her eyes wide.

“It could be anything,” Celeste answered in a faint tone. “Perhaps an animal drawn to the light or something caught on the wind.” Yet she, too, was becoming concerned that there might be something, or someone, lurking outside.
How silly. Who would be out on a night like this? Certainly someone stranded would never get as far as the lighthouse.

Suddenly the lights went out, and the women let out a chorus of gasps. The lanterns and fire gave off a delicate glow.

“We need to fire up the other lanterns.” Celeste reached for one of several standing on the mantel and handed one to each woman. “If the electricity isn’t on by morning, I’ll try to get the generator going. Anyway, Doug is due here tomorrow, if he can get here. He can prime it if I can’t.”

“Perhaps it’s a good idea to finish our tea and call it a night,” Adrian said as she lit a lantern. She sounded so together compared to the woman who had appeared at Celeste’s door months ago. Yet clearly something was bothering her. Abruptly Adrian stopped and looked again toward the lakeside window. Her face crinkled into an expression of consternation.

“What is it, Adrian?” Celeste asked in a low voice trying not to alarm the others.

“I know someone is out there. Didn’t you see the shadow at the window?” Adrian stuttered. “A man’s figure.”

“I would think if someone needed help, they’d knock at the door and ask.” Celeste tried to sound undisturbed, although the same inner voice that had been trying to warn her for days now told her otherwise.

Then she saw the shadow, too. And, in the stream of light from the room, a face. Fear charged from nerve to nerve, terror trying to gain the upper hand. Celeste took several deep breaths and turned to Adrian.

The two women looked at each other for a long moment.

“Who is it? “Adrian whispered.

Celeste shook her head. “Get the women and children ready to leave,” Celeste said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. What they didn’t need was a mass panic. “But do it … you know.” She placed a hand on Adrian’s arm as much to calm herself as to steady Adrian.