“I just don’t want her to end up like me. I don’t want—” she covered her mouth for a moment—“anyone to ever call her a . . .”
She cried for a long time. Damien held her until she finally fell asleep. He put her gently on her pillow.
In the darkness, he sat on the edge of the bed and listened to her breathe until each breath was slow and deep and he was sure she was in a deep sleep.
He rose, walked to the bathroom, shut the door, and kept the light off. He slid to the floor and stared into the darkness.
17
Frank walked alone, shining his light up and down, side to side, hoping to see something other than an alley cat. His hands tingled from numbness and his nose dripped.
This was his town. His town to serve. His town to protect. He wasn’t losing a girl to a crime like this. As innocent as Marlo was—or once was—he knew there were shadows, cast long and harsh against its streets. Long and harsh and old. The curse was not new. Just forgotten.
He called the girl’s name. It echoed against the buildings in the town square area. The crisp night air did nothing to stifle the rotten odors that fumed from the Dumpsters.
“Come on, Gabby. Where are you?” Frank whispered. He stood at the end of the last alleyway. Maybe he would go to the river tonight on his own and search.
Suddenly his phone vibrated against his hip. It was his personal cell. Who would be calling him in the middle of the night? He quickly snatched it up and looked at the caller ID. It wasn’t a number he recognized. “Frank Merret.”
“It’s Jenna.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I need to meet with you.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I just need to talk to you.”
“Where are you?”
“Meet me at the park on the north side, where the bell is.”
The phone went dead. Frank checked his watch—3:45 a.m. What in the world was Jenna doing out at this hour? Did Damien know? He started to dial Damien’s cell, then stopped. He should meet Jenna first, see what was wrong. She called him for a reason.
Frank got in his car and hurried to Marlo Park, the only park in town. It reminded him of a perfectly groomed woman—manicured, brushed, coddled, coifed. Large silver maples boasted their color in the fall. Bright tulips spelled out
Marlo
in the center of the park in the spring.
Frank pulled into one of several small parking places and got out. His mind flashed back fourteen years to a warm Sunday afternoon. He and Angela strolled through the west side of the park, where five weeping willows marked a path that led to a small, man-made waterfall. There was nothing out of the ordinary that day.
Except that day, near the sound of the rushing water, with the birds singing their songs in the trees, he had knelt down and opened a small, black box. Inside, a tiny ring with a tiny diamond that had cost him an arm and a leg barely glimmered. It was small, but it didn’t seem to matter to her. She adored it as if it were of great value.
It seemed like yesterday.
Frank had yet to get warm. He stuffed his hands deep into his pockets and searched through the darkness, trying to find Jenna. There, on a bench.
She watched as he walked toward her. She looked cold and tired. And scared.
He sat down, his body aching and weary. He turned to her. “You’re okay?”
She nodded. In the dim moonlight, her eyes glistened with tears. “I have to tell you something.”
“You know you can always tell me anything.”
“It’s about Gabby.”
Frank tried not to look startled. “What about her?”
“It’s just . . . It’s . . .”
“Take your time.”
Jenna took in a deep breath. “It’s hard.”
“Do you know what happened to Gabby?”
“No. Not exactly. But there are some girls at the school . . .” She took another breath as if each word sucked every bit of air out of her. “One girl especially, who hates Gabby.” She glanced at Frank. “I’ve heard her talk about Gabby. In mean ways. In really mean ways.”
“You think she might’ve done something?”
Jenna’s words came in short, anxious bursts. “I don’t know. I mean, sometimes I think maybe I’m overreacting, that it’s just girl stuff. But they . . . Nobody would believe me. Everyone thinks they’re nice girls. They say stuff, though. And do stuff. Under the radar so nobody suspects them.”
“What’s the name of the girl you think might be involved?”
Jenna’s gloved hands were at her mouth, her fingers curled against her lips.
“It’s okay. You can tell me.”
“That’s what nobody understands,” she whispered. “There are consequences.”
***
Frank got out of his car just as Lou Grayson pulled up.
Grayson looked around at the abandoned rest stop as he shut the door on his car. “Hey, Frank. You happen to stop for coffee?”
“No.”
Grayson nodded like he wasn’t expecting that he did. The two men joined each other on the sidewalk. Lou put his hands on his hips. “You got a tip, huh?”
“Yeah. Anybody else coming?”
“No. Left them there, didn’t want to try to relocate everyone yet. This place isn’t too terribly big. We can at least go in and look, see what we see. Maybe come back at daybreak with more people.”
“All right. You got your flashlight?”
“Yeah.”
“Beyond this rest stop there is supposedly a clearing.”
They turned on their lights and walked forward. To their right was a small, covered eating area, rotting picnic benches the only reminder that people used to use this place. Closed-up bathrooms hid underneath the shadows of a large group of trees.
Frank checked the doors. Both were chained shut. “Gabby? You in there?” He pounded on a door.
Silence.
Grayson yelled from behind the bathroom building, “Windows are sealed up. Let’s keep moving. We’ll double-check this in a little bit.”
They headed toward a line of trees, where it became dense. Limbs and vines, splashed with the blue light of the moon, tangled like lovers.
“On the other side,” Frank said, motioning with his flashlight, “is that small clearing where the girls supposedly hang out.” He pushed forward, hacking at vines, aiming his light ahead. “Gabby? You out here? Gabby?”
A sharp thorn caught Frank’s pants at the shin, ripping them and his flesh. He grabbed his leg and felt the blood ooze into his hand. There was no end in sight to these thorny weeds.
Grayson came up beside him. “There are cockleburs everywhere. This is like walking through tiny sharp spikes. We’re going to have to get some tools to clear these out before we can go forward.”
Frank grabbed Grayson’s arm. “You hear that?”
They stopped. Both men steadied themselves, and Frank drew his gun. Ahead, a sound that Frank couldn’t identify competed with the wind. Maybe a small animal?
“What is that?” Lou whispered.
“I’m going in.”
“Frank! Wait! You can’t go through those—”
“Gabby?” Frank tore through the weeds, hacking at them with his gun. Each cut stung worse than the one before, but he couldn’t stop. This was the only way. Blood soaked his pants and dribbled down each arm.
As he neared the clearing on the other side, Frank’s light hit a large tree. He stopped to listen. Moaning? Was that what he heard?
Then he saw her.
Frank fought through, breaking the remaining vines and branches. “Gabby!”
As he made his way into the clearing, the entire sight startled him to a near standstill. Her eyes, hollow and vacant, stared, unblinking. Was she dead?
“No!” Frank scrambled forward, stumbling toward her. “Gabby!”
Her hands were tied behind her, and she was gagged. She sat at the base of the tree, four ropes tying her body to it. She’d been stripped of all her clothes except a tank top and boxer shorts. She didn’t seem to be responding to the light or her name being called.
“Lou!” Frank shouted. “I found her! Get some medical attention!”
He heard Grayson radioing in the call as he threw off his coat. He approached her slowly, cautiously laying his coat over her. Her hand was ice-cold. He pulled the gag off her mouth and gently patted her cheek. “Can you hear me?”
Her gaze suddenly shifted to the left. She stared directly at him, through him, still unblinking. Her lips, a deep purple, moved slightly as if she was trying to speak.
Relief flooded Frank so fast and hard, tears stung his eyes. “We’re here. You’re going to be all right. Just stay with me, okay? I’m going to cut the rope.” He hurried to the other side of the tree. His hands were so cold he had a hard time sawing.
Frank rushed back to the girl. He took her hands and rubbed them and her arms as fast as he could. Her skin, already fair, looked ghostly white against the moonlight. A dark blue half circle hung under each eye.
Her lips moved again. Breath froze right in front of her face.
“Gabby, it’s okay. I’m here. My name is Frank.”
“Help me . . . ,” she whispered.
In the distance, the siren’s scream grew louder.
“Help is on the way. Hang in there.”
Her eyes closed. Her mouth gaped open.
“No, Gabby, no! You’ve got to stay with me! Stay awake!”
He heard Grayson hacking his way through the shrubs. Soon he was at the tree with a blanket from his car. “They’re on their way,” Grayson said.
Frank covered her with the blanket and pulled her next to him to try to get more heat to her. Her limp body leaned against his, her head resting against his collarbone. “Hang in there. You can’t die. Open your eyes. Meredith, look at me.”
Grayson stepped forward. “Her name is Gabby.”
Frank looked up, a startle electrocuting his heart. What had he said?
Grayson eyed him for a moment, then pulled out his phone and took a piece of paper out of his pocket.
Frank continued to rub her arms and hands. Color was starting to return to her skin. Her teeth chattered. Frank stroked her hair.
Grayson dialed a number. “Mr. Caldwell, Captain Grayson here. . . . We’ve found Gabby. . . . Yes, sir. She’s alive but in need of medical attention. . . . I think so, but we need to get her to the hospital. . . . The ambulance is here now. I’ll give you more details at the hospital.”
The quiet night air was undone by sirens and commotion. Within minutes, a dozen police officers, firefighters, and EMTs had arrived on scene.
“We can’t get the gurney through here,” one of the EMTs said, as he wrapped a silver thermal blanket around Gabby.
“I’ll carry her out,” Frank said. “See if you can get the firefighters to chop through some of those vines and branches.”
Gabby’s cheeks suddenly flushed, and her lips turned pink. Her wide eyes dimmed a little, but she looked peaceful. She gripped Frank’s arm. “Thank you.”
Frank shoved his arms under her and stood, lifting her off the ground. She was lightweight. She buried her face in his chest as the lights shone on her. Frank made his way through the shrubbery, holding her tight. The warmth of the blanket helped his body warm up too. He could finally feel his hands again.
Once he made it through the trees, a stretcher was there waiting. He carefully laid her on it and brushed her hair out of her face. For the first time, he noticed what a beautiful, innocent-looking young woman she was. Big brown eyes blinked at him. “I was praying and praying. I thought I was dead. You’re my answer. You got here just in time.”
Frank only stared. He couldn’t say anything. He felt tears trickling down his cheeks.
“You’re going to be fine,” Grayson said, stepping up to her as he glanced at Frank, giving him an odd look.
“Let’s get an IV started,” one of the EMTs said.
Frank moved away and let them tend to her. Within two minutes, they had her loaded into the back of the ambulance. The sirens wailed into the night. Officers wound crime scene tape around the trees.
Grayson slid up next to him. “This could’ve ended much, much worse.”
Frank nodded, trying to get himself under control.
“You okay?”
“I meant to say Gabby, not Meredith.”
Grayson gestured at his legs and arms. “I meant those cuts all over you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Who’s Meredith?”
An EMT offered to inspect Frank’s legs but he waved him off. “This kind of thing doesn’t happen in our town, Lou.”
“You got a lead off that tip?”
“Let’s go.”
***
Restlessness, inky black and suffocating, turned Kay over and over in her bed. She kept her eyes closed, trying to force sleep upon herself. But it came in short spurts, and then her body would jolt awake, her heart pounding as if it were twice its size, like she’d been running from something she couldn’t see.
She opened one eye. The clock glared at her. Five thirty in the morning and she’d barely slept. Then something caught her attention. A white note sat perched against her lamp. By the glow of her digital clock, she read it:
They found her alive. Be back later. D.
Kay propped herself up on one elbow, emotion filling the emptiness that was there just moments before. Tears dripped down her cheek, and she fell back into her pillow. It cradled her. Moments before, it had tormented her. She turned over, hoping for another hour’s sleep.
But gasped.
She scrambled to a sitting position, reaching behind herself and yanking at the lamp cord. Jenna? She grabbed her shoulder. “Jenna? Are you okay?”
Jenna moaned and rolled over. “I’m fine. Go back to sleep.”
Kay sat there, her hand on her chest, staring at her daughter. The last time she’d crawled into bed with her was when she was six years old. Kay studied her face, still dainty and innocent, especially without the makeup and the attitude. Kay stroked her hair, combing it out of her face. She turned off the lamp, then slowly, quietly, slid back under the covers. She wrapped her arms around her baby girl and fell into a deep sleep.
***