Authors: Rebecca Drake
“What was me? C’mon, it’s too cold to stand out here.” He smiled again, the confident smile of a man used to getting his way. So much like David. David, who admired Andrew enough to take his advice on so many things, including purchasing the same model BMW.
“
You
were the one Lyn Galpin was trying to catch.”
Andrew laughed. A hollow sound. “You’re not making any sense, Jill. We need to get you to an ER pronto.”
“I saw the footage. It’s
your
car she was pursuing, not David’s.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about—” Andrew started, but Jill cut him off.
“That’s the same crack,” she said, jabbing a finger at his wheel. “That crack is on the car Lyn Galpin chased. It’s in the police footage. It wasn’t David, it was you!
You
were the one she was chasing when she crashed.”
Andrew barely glanced at his car, already shaking his head, dismissing her. “No, that damage came from the trees crowding this driveway.”
“Stop bullshitting me, Andrew! I know it’s the same!”
“Okay, Jill, you need to take a breath and calm down,” he said, putting a hand on her arm.
She knocked it off. “Don’t tell me to calm down! You’re the ‘D’ in her journal. ‘D’ stood for Drew, not David! You’re the reason we’ve been going through this hell!”
“I don’t even know the crazy woman who lived here,” Andrew protested.
“You knew her daughter—”
“It wasn’t like that—”
“You got her pregnant. It was you. And then you decided to give that child to us!”
“Let’s go in the house—we can talk, I can explain.”
“Was this adoption even legal?” Jill’s throat was hoarse from shouting.
“Of course it was legal!” Andrew snapped. For a moment there was no expression on his face, the light outlining his aquiline nose and perfect cheekbones. He might have been a statue in a museum, but then his lips curved again, this time into a tight, nasty little smile. “What do you want me to say, Jill, that I had sex outside my marriage? Okay, fine, I cheated. Just like your husband. Just like plenty of other men—”
“Don’t try to pretend this is the same!”
“But the girl wouldn’t get an abortion. I would have paid for it—she didn’t have to arrange anything—but she insisted on having the child. At least I convinced her that she should give it up for adoption. She couldn’t keep the baby—it would ruin us both! You needed a baby and she had a baby to give. Everyone wins.”
“Don’t pretend that you thought about anyone except yourself!”
“And you wouldn’t have?” Andrew said. He snorted, a mirthless sound. “The stupid girl was deluded. She thought we could be a happy little family. As if I’d jeopardize everything I worked for, everything my father’s worked for, to set up house with some piece of tail?”
“God, it wasn’t just a Halloween mask,” Jill said with amazement. “You really are a monster.”
“Don’t look at me like that.” Andrew grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a firm shake. “C’mon, Jill—don’t be like this. It wasn’t just about me—it was you and David, too. I was protecting you.”
“Let go of me!” Jill struggled to break free, but he only held on tighter, trying to make her look at him.
“You need to listen to me!
She
signed the adoption papers—I didn’t force her. Then six months later she went crazy and wanted the baby back. Wanted me to contest the adoption! I couldn’t do that to you—I couldn’t let you and David lose another child.”
“This had nothing to do with us—you were protecting yourself!”
“Would you stop saying that?” He shook her again, much harder this time, and Jill screamed at the blinding pain in her head.
“Be quiet!” Andrew said, voice and eyes panicked. “Just shut up and listen to me and you’ll understand!” He smashed his hand against Jill’s mouth to silence her, but then Sophia began wailing. She slid out of the car and ran to her mother’s defense, flailing at Andrew.
“Let go of Mommy! Don’t hurt Mommy!”
At her screams, something small and white shot from the garage and sank its teeth into Andrew’s ankle. He yelled, jerking his hands off Jill. She grabbed Sophia and took off running down the driveway, away from the house. Behind her, she could hear Andrew cursing as he tried to shake Cosmo off his leg. A muffled thud and then the dog whined, a pitiful sound.
“Jill, come back, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” Andrew called, a hint of the old charm on top of desperation. She looked back and the lights from the garage illuminated him standing at the edge of the woods—hair lifting, top coat flapping around his legs.
Jill ran into the cover of the trees, stumbling through the darkness with Sophia’s sobs rising. “Ssh, baby, it’s okay, ssh,” she crooned, doing her best to soothe her. Jill didn’t turn back to see if Andrew was following on foot; she didn’t have to. She could feel him coming after them. She passed the steaming wreckage of Bea’s car, the smell of the gasoline strong now, and kept going. Hadn’t anyone been woken by the crash? Surely it had to have drawn attention, but most of the other houses were far away and no one had their windows open in this weather.
Over Sophia’s whimpering she could hear cracking as frozen twigs and branches snapped under her feet. A louder, whooshing sound and Jill turned in time to see the car wreck go up in flames.
Jill scrambled away, stumbling in her haste. She fell to the ground, landing hard on her shoulder to keep from crushing Sophia. Jill struggled to her feet and hoisted her daughter back up. Sophia was crying, but otherwise seemed okay. Jill’s left shoulder felt sore; she saw a trail of dark spots in the snow and realized she must have cut herself on something. Fear kept the pain at bay, spurred her on. “It’s okay, honey, just a little longer.”
She ran downhill as fast as she could, but it felt like lumbering between the snow and the weight of Sophia. Jill could hear Andrew struggling, cursing as his flat-soled wing tips slipped in the snow, but he wasn’t carrying a child. She could hear him gaining. Jill swallowed hard, tasting smoke. She hoped that she’d make it to the main road in time to flag down a car before he caught up.
Her mouth tasted like blood; her arms screamed for release. She couldn’t go any further; she paused to rest behind the wide trunk of an old tree. Sophia struggled to get down, but Jill wouldn’t let her go.
“Jill?” Andrew called; his warm voice seemed to echo through the trees. “Jill, wait for me. You and Sophia need help. You know I’d never hurt you.”
She didn’t know that. She didn’t know anything anymore. Not after the way he shook her. Her head was throbbing. She could hear the sound of Andrew’s footsteps crunching through the snow as he came closer, searching for them.
“Sophia, don’t you want to go see Daddy?” Andrew called.
“Let me go—” Sophia said, but Jill clapped a hand over her mouth, pressing both of them back against the trunk of the tree, her feet slipping in the thick carpet of snow-covered pine needles. She couldn’t put Sophia down, she wouldn’t. She could feel her daughter’s breath hot against her hand, then the warmth of tears. Maybe Jill was wrong. But she’d been so scared at the way he put his hand across her mouth.
She moved ever so slightly to see around the trunk of the tree. In the light from the flames, she could see Andrew standing about twenty feet away, looking for them. For a moment, before he spotted her, she saw Andrew’s face contorted by rage, the face of a powerful man angry at being thwarted. He shifted, and looked right at them, his face morphing back into its friendly mask, but something glinted in his hand. The gun.
Terrified, Jill ran, holding Sophia tight as she raced down the hill. She hoped the startled cry behind her meant that Andrew had slipped, but she couldn’t stop to look back. A pinprick of light pierced the dark woods. Was she imagining it? No, there it was again. Light shining through the trees. She could see the roofline of another house. Jill sobbed with relief. Surely someone would help them.
The house came into view as Jill got closer, a large brick colonial sitting at the middle of a circular driveway, lights blazing in multiple windows. She ran to the front door, setting Sophia down in front of her as she banged the brass knocker repeatedly against the wooden door. “Help! We need help!”
“The man got a boo-boo and he’s went to sleep,” Sophia said.
“Don’t worry, honey,” Jill said. “He’ll wake up.” But there was no answer. No sign of movement through the curtained windows. She looked behind her and thought she caught a glimpse of a figure moving through the trees. “For God’s sake, open the door!” she shouted, slamming the knocker so hard it chipped the paint.
“Mommy, he’s here,” Sophia whispered, peering around Jill’s legs. Jill looked over her shoulder and saw Andrew stepping onto the driveway. There was nowhere to go; they were trapped. Jill rattled the doorknob and the door suddenly opened. She fell inside, dragging Sophia with her and slammed the door behind them, locking it.
“Hello?” She called, but no one answered. The lights were on in the living room; there was a fire burning low in the hearth and a book facedown on a table as if someone had been sitting there, but the chair was empty. “Is anyone home? Please—I need help! Call the police!” Her voice seemed to echo through the house.
“The man’s went to sleep,” Sophia repeated, tugging on Jill’s jacket. “He no wakes up.”
Jill looked at her. “What do you mean? Where did he go to sleep?”
“Out there.” Sophia pointed toward the door. Jill looked in that direction and thought she saw a shadow at the window.
“Let’s check upstairs, okay?” she said, scooping Sophia back up with one arm and grabbing the brass poker from the set of fireplace tools with her free hand. She hustled up the stairs, calling out as she ran. “Hello? Is someone here?”
She held onto Sophia’s hand, dragging her down a hall decorated with old-fashioned floral-and-vine wallpaper. Empty room after empty room. Where had the owners gone? Jill could hear Andrew back at the front door, rattling the knob. One bedroom had an old phone sitting on a nightstand, but when Jill yanked up the receiver there was no dial tone. She remembered David’s iPhone and pulled it from her pocket. Still no reception. Jesus Christ. She opened a closet. It was dark and smelled of dust and mothballs, but it was stuffed with bagged clothes and there were shoe boxes piled high on the floor. She shifted the pile and pushed aside clothes in the back to make a spot. “We’re playing a game with Uncle Andrew,” she said. “You’re going to hide in here and be very, very quiet, okay?”
Sophia grabbed her around the legs. “But I want to stay with you!”
“You have to stay here now. Mommy’s going to come back and get you, but you have to stay here for now.” Jill tried to peel off Sophia’s hands, one at a time, but as soon as she freed one, Sophia latched on with the other.
“No, Mommy! Don’t let go!”
Jill knelt and hugged her hard. “I’m never letting you go. I’ll be right back. You hold onto Blinky and be very, very quiet or we won’t win the game, okay?”
Sophia nodded, clutching Blinky, but her lip trembled. Jill lifted her into the spot and tucked the bags and boxes around her. Sophia whimpered as Jill pulled the closet door, leaving it open just a crack. She fled along the hall checking other bedrooms, but couldn’t find another phone. She tried the cell phone again, but this time there was too much static and the 911 operator couldn’t understand her.
She heard glass shattering downstairs. He’d found a way inside. It was just a matter of time until he found them. Jill gripped the poker. It crossed her mind that she hoped Sophia wouldn’t see Andrew killing her. She ducked into yet another uninhabited room, still clutching David’s iPhone as if somehow, miraculously, it could save her. And then she had an idea.
DAY TWENTY-THREE
The sound of floorboards creaking. Andrew was searching downstairs; she could hear doors being opened. The desire to run was overwhelming. Jill grabbed hold of the doorknob to stop herself. She shrank back, slowing her breathing, willing herself to become invisible. She tried not to think about Sophia. A distinct footstep, then another. He was coming upstairs; he would find them.
“Mommy? Daddy? I need you! Where are you?” Sophia’s voice carried in the silence of the house.
Jill’s eyes teared at the sound, but she stayed where she was. It was too late to come out. Too late to do anything but stay where she’d hidden, hoping that if he found Sophia, Andrew wouldn’t try to kill her, too.
“Daddy, Mommy, I need you! Mommy!”
Footfalls pounded up the stairs and down the hall into a bedroom. They stopped abruptly. Andrew’s voice exclaimed, “What the fuck?” Jill stepped out from behind the bedroom door with the poker raised just as he stood from picking up David’s cell phone. She’d left it on the center of the floor playing an old recording of Sophia’s voice.
The poker missed his head, landing against his shoulder instead, but it was hard enough to make him drop the gun. It skittered across the wooden floor and for a split second Andrew and Jill stared after it. She lunged first, throwing the poker like a spear at him as she dove for the gun. He cried out and she knew the poker had hit him, but then he landed on top of her, his weight like a hammer nailing her to the floor, his arm reaching alongside hers, each of them with a hand splayed wide, skin taut and white, desperate to reach the gun. His hand was larger, fingers longer. His fingertips brushed the metal. He would kill her.
Adrenaline surging, Jill reached her other hand up and around her head to claw at his face. Andrew shrieked in pain. “Shit!” He reared up, grasping her hair with his free hand and shoved her face into the ground, but he’d shifted his weight off just enough that she managed to slide forward. She searched blindly, keening, her hand tearing at the floor until it closed around cold metal. Andrew yanked her back by the leg, but she twisted around in his grip, grasping the handgun in both hands and aiming it straight at his face.
“Get the fuck off me!”
He dropped her leg, rearing back. Jill scrambled up, holding the gun outstretched. It felt heavier than she would have expected, a substantial weight. Andrew got slowly to his feet, hands held up, palms out.