Authors: Stephanie Hoffman McManus
“Maybe.
I’m going to see if I can find out why he’s been turned down. Then there’s the weird,
computer genius who spends every day in your shop, the over-protective
meathead, and your douchebag ex.”
“You
seriously think one of them is the guy? There’s no way. I know those guys!”
“That’s
just it, do you really? Because whoever is doing this is fixated on you, which
means he’s probably tried to insert himself into your life and gain your trust
in some way. Even if it was through Emily.”
“Then
who do you think it is? Ben? Mitch?” I had a hard time buying either of them.
“I’m
not sure. It could be any one of them, or someone else, but now that I know
you’re at the center of it, it should be easier to figure out.”
“Ben
was here this morning. To warn me you were released. Why would he do that if
they know the truth now?”
“Only
the FBI, the chief and Parker know. I wouldn’t have even told them, except that
when I realized you were in danger, I couldn’t wait for them to clear me on
their own. It would have taken them too long. I gave them proof that I was
nowhere near Washington until after Emily disappeared and I had them talk to
her father. He confirmed that he’d hired me. After that I shared some of my
theories about Ben and a few of the others and Monroe and Parker are looking
into them.”
“What
is it that makes you so sure this is about me and not Emily? Monroe seemed
pretty convinced the killer was only fixating on me because I was close to
Emily and he wanted to be closer to her.”
“Monroe
showed me the pictures of Dana Winters, dressed in your clothes and jacket.”
“But
the jacket wasn’t mine, and if he came in here snooping through our laundry he
could have easily mistaken the things in the hamper for Emily’s. She was
probably even wearing some of those things the night she was taken. We shared
just about everything.”
“That
was the theory Monroe gave as well, but I wasn’t so sure. After digging around
your past, I am now. This is about you, not Emily. I don’t know why he took
her, by my guess is she got in his way. She was standing between him and you.”
“What
makes you so sure?”
“Have
you seen any of the crime scene photos?”
I
shook my head.
“It
wasn’t released to the press, but the bodies were washed and then covered with
rose petals after he placed them.”
My
gaze drifted to the roses on the floor in the entry way and then back to Shaw.
“You think the roses . . .” My words hung in the air as I considered the
possibility. It was definitely too much of a coincidence, but leaving roses on
my porch still didn’t convince me that all of this was about me.
“Nora,
your middle name is Rose.”
“Yeah,”
I said slowly. Again, maybe a coincidence, maybe not, but very few people knew
my middle name. I’d dropped it the same time I took on Scott as my last name.
It wouldn’t be on any records since I was adopted.
“You
have to see it Nora, the red hair, the roses, and it might have been Emily’s
jacket, but you were wearing it the day he took it. If all of this was
happening and Emily hadn’t been taken, then it would all clearly point to you.
So take Emily out of it, and tell me who could be doing this.”
“I
. . . I– I don’t know. This is crazy.”
“Think,
Nora.” He leaned in. “Someone out there knows about your past. Someone is
playing games with you and he’s going to win if we don’t figure it out.”
“I
just don’t know who would do this.”
“It
has to be someone in your life. Maybe not a close friend, but there’s no way
that a guy this obsessed would be able to keep his distance. At the very least,
it means he probably comes into the shop.”
“Detective
Parker already asked me about everyone who comes into the shop. They’ve talked
to all of those guys.” I was growing frustrated. None of this was helping.
“But
they didn’t know what to look for then. If you’re sure it’s not one of them,
then give me someone else to look at. This is someone who pays extra attention
to you, but might be shy about it. He probably likes to watch you, but is more
hesitant to engage. More than likely he has a bad temper. He’s smart though.”
“That
could be a hundred people, okay. Lots of my customers are college boys who like
to come in and watch us girls. A few even work up the nerve to hit on me.”
“No,
this isn’t some college boy.”
“You’re
asking me to accuse one of my customers, maybe even someone I know, of murder!”
I cried. “Obviously if I thought any of them were capable, I would have already
told the police.”
“Dammit,
Nora. You need to forget that you know them. Be objective and think about the
things I told you. Who stands out, even if you’re sure they couldn’t do it? We
need somewhere to start looking, and now. Because this guy isn’t going to wait
much longer.” He started shuffling through the stacks of pictures and papers on
the table until he found two he was looking for. He shoved the first one at me,
and I gasped.
It
was obviously a crime scene photo, and I was sure that had to be Dana Winter’s
face, but it was hard to tell beneath all the bruising. Her face look like
she’d stepped into the ring with a heavyweight champ. I forced my eyes away
from the picture. “How could anyone do this?”
“Something
set him off Nora. He lost control. All of the other girls were pristine, not a
mark on them except for the ligature marks around their necks. He bathed them
and even brushed their hair, and he was careful when he dumped them. He
arranged them almost like they were sleeping. Not Dana though. She was beaten
severely and raped repeatedly before he killed her, then washed and tossed out
like she was trash. The only care he took with her was dressing her in your
clothes. He also kept her longer than the others. His previous victims were all
killed within forty-eight hours of going missing, but Dana was kept alive for
an entire week after he grabbed her. Something pushed this guy over the edge.
And he left a message on her body. I want you to take a look and tell me if it
means anything to you.” He held out the second picture and I took it.
More
bruising. This time all over her upper body. Poor girl. She’d clearly suffered,
and Shaw was right. He did leave a message. Words in messy black ink covered
her chest and stomach. Some of them were hard to make out. I had to really
focus to read them and when I did, the last fifteen years of my life came to a
screeching halt.
“They
looked it up; it’s some kind of poem.”
“Red
Red Rose, by Robert Burns,” I whispered.
“You
know it?”
Yes,
I knew the poem. I knew it well and this was only a part of it. The last verse.
And
fare-thee-weel, my only Luve!
And
fare-thee-weel, a while!
And
I will come again, my Luve,
Tho'
'twere ten thousand mile!
I
was still staring at the picture, but I wasn’t seeing it. I’d gone to another
time and place. One I thought I’d put behind me. Memories rushed forth and I wanted
to squeeze my eyes shut to stop the onslaught, but I had to let them come. After
the initial shock faded, I looked up at Shaw.
“I
know who did this.”
“His
name is Aaron,” I racked my brain for a last name until I pulled it from my
memory. “Aaron Lee.”
“Who
is he? A customer? An ex-boyfriend?” Shaw looked like he was gearing up, like
any second he was going to get up and go after him. Unfortunately it wouldn’t
be that easy.
“I
haven’t seen him in fifteen years.”
A
moment of confusion passed over Shaw’s face. Then his expression turned
neutral. “What makes you so sure it’s him?”
“This
poem,” I handed the picture back to him. “And the roses. You were right. It makes
sense now. I just . . . I just never thought I’d hear from him again. Hell,
until I read that poem again, I almost forgot he existed.”
“Who
is he to you, Nora?”
My
elbows came to rest on my knees and I let my forehead drop into my hands. I
stared at the floor while I tried to decide how far back I needed to go. I
scraped my hands over my hair and sat upright. I needed to go all the way back
to the beginning.
“How
much do you know about me? How far back did you go in your little search?”
“Not
much. I swear I didn’t want to invade your privacy Nora. I did a little
digging, but there was a lot of information I couldn’t get access to without
going deeper. I know you were born in Sweet, Idaho and your parents died when
you were four, and after that you were in the foster care system until the
Scott’s adopted you shortly before you turned fourteen. Prior to that you’d had
a few minor scrapes with the law. Shoplifting, fighting at school, truancy.”
“Yeah,
I was a real hellion until Karen and Jim saved me,” I sighed. Every day I was
so thankful for them and that they saw past the damaged little girl who lashed
out at everyone rather than let anyone in. The first year I was with them, I
made their lives incredibly difficult. It wasn’t until the night they sat me down
at dinner and told me they wanted to adopt me that everything changed. I was
used to being bounced from home to home when my foster parents would grow tired
of my antics. No one had ever wanted to keep me before. Until Jim and Karen.
I’d been nothing but a brat to them, and still they loved me and wanted me to
be a part of their family permanently. I’d never had that before.
“My
biological father shot my mom and then himself, but for some reason left me.” I
wasn’t looking Spencer in the eye. I didn’t think I’d be able to get through
the story if I did. “Neighbors found me curled up with my mom’s body a few days
later, half starved and crying. My dad was a mean drunk and junkie. My mom,
well I don’t know much about her except that she stayed with him, and I think
he might have got her hooked on the drugs as well. I remember in school after
that, sometimes I would hear kids or even adults whispering. In a small town,
no one forgets. Even though I didn’t even remember my parents, that didn’t mean
the rest of the town didn’t, or that I wouldn’t forever be Chet and Laurie
Hill’s daughter. They’d been a black stain on the town, and then on my life.
“The
family I was sent to live with after that wasn’t much better. They were a local
family. They had a farm just outside town, and they’d taken in a few kids over
the years. They kept to themselves and everyone in town thought they were
saints for taking in the poor orphans no one wanted, but really they just
didn’t want to look hard enough to see the truth, because then they might have
to do something about it. So they turned a blind eye to the dirty and ratty
clothes we were dressed in. They pretended as if they couldn’t tell we were
half starved most of the time and rarely bathed, not to mention the regular
bruises we didn’t do a good job of hiding. Even the social workers didn’t want
to look too hard and rarely ever checked up on us, but Linda and Judd Johnson
were not saints. I’d gone from one hell to another and lived in it for five
years. They cooked drugs and supplied the next town over, taking in foster kids
was just their way of bankrolling the operation, because unfortunately they
didn’t just sell the product, but used as well.
“It
was a nightmare, and Aaron was my only ray of light in it all. He was another
boy the Johnson’s had taken in, and by the time I turned six, it was just the
two of us there, the other kids had moved on. He was two years older than me
and he took care of me. He’d sneak food for us when they forgot to feed us, and
sometimes he’d give me his when he knew I was extra hungry. He’d take beatings
that were meant for me when I did something to screw up. He always helped me
with my chores on the farm even though he wasn’t supposed to. He taught me to
read and write and helped me with homework once I started going to school. One
thing the Johnson’s had a lot of was books. I think they’d belonged to Linda’s
mom, and the only reason she kept them was because they weren’t valuable enough
to sell.
“He
would read to me, and when we came across a book of poetry, Red Red Rose became
our favorite, because Aaron always called me Sweet Nora Rose, or sometimes just
his pretty little rose. Wild roses grew all over the property, and he would cut
them and bring them to me. He started doing it right after I moved in. I was
sad all the time and he thought they would cheer me up. I also had the most
awful nightmares, and often he would come into my room and crawl into bed with
me and hold me. He’d calm me down so I wouldn’t wake up Linda or Judd, and then
he’d stay with me.
“He
always told me he would take care of me forever and that I was his. I was just
a little girl and I’d never had anyone love me so I didn’t know there was
anything wrong with some of the things he did. He continued to come into my bed
until I was ten.” I drew in a shaky breath and felt hot tears gathering. “He .
. . I didn’t know it wasn’t okay for him to touch me like that, so I never told
anyone, or maybe deep down I did know it wasn’t right and that’s why I didn’t
speak up. But Judd and Linda were never around, except when we were in trouble
and Aaron was all I had. But then one day they came home and found us in the
bathtub together. He was twelve and I was ten, and I realized right away when
they saw us, that it was not okay for us to be naked together.
“Judd
beat him so bad. I’m pretty sure he was high and it just made his rage worse.
Linda dragged me by my hair, and screamed at me, calling me all kinds of names
I didn’t fully understand. Judd ended up hurting Aaron so bad that he had no choice
but to take him to the hospital because he was bleeding all over. He tried to
give some excuse about him falling out of the loft in the barn, but the
doctor’s didn’t believe it and the police were finally called.
“Judd
and Linda were arrested and I can remember when the social workers came to take
us away. Aaron and I wanted to go with each other, but I think Linda and Judd
made sure everyone knew what Aaron had done, because the lady who took me away
had looked at him with so much disgust. I remember her telling the both of us
that we would never see each other again. I cried and Aaron screamed. He just
yelled my name over and over and promised me he would come for me as they took
me away. That was the last time I ever saw him. I was moved across the state
and went from home to home until Karen and Jim. I never heard what happened to
Aaron, and honestly, once I was old enough to realize how messed up everything
had been, I just wanted to forget about that part of my life altogether. When Karen
and Jim adopted me, we changed my last name and they got a judge to seal all of
my records so that I really could leave that life behind, and then they moved
us out here to Washington and I thought I was free of my past.”
I
finally let myself meet Spencer’s gaze. He’d been focused on me and listening
intently the entire time and right now he looked to be struggling.
“Fuck
Nora,” he breathed, and then he drew me to him. His hands lifted to my face and
he slid his fingers back into my hair, holding my head between his hands as if
I was so very precious to him. He set his lips on my forehead and just rested
them there. I closed my eyes and breathed in and out. He tipped his head down
and touched his forehead to mine. “You are so incredible, to have been through
so much.”
He
closed his eyes for a moment and breathed out. “So beautiful and so strong.”
I
reached my hands up and grabbed onto his wrists. “I survived because I had to,
and then Jim and Karen came along and they gave me more than that. They’re the
amazing ones who took a broken girl and put her back together and gave her a
good life, a really good life. So please don’t feel sorry for me.”
His
thumbs caressed the sides of my face as he drew back. “This isn’t pity you’re
seeing, it’s awe, because you are everything beautiful in this world.”
My
whole body shuddered at his words and I let myself fall forward into his arms,
which came around me and he held me to his chest. I closed my eyes and breathed
him in, and for the first time in days, everything inside me felt right.
“I’m
sorry I thought you were a serial killer,” I murmured into his chest after a
minute.
“It’s
alright, you don’t have to apologize for that,” he spoke softly into my hair.
“I
feel bad for thinking it. Some part of me never believed it though, and it’s
been tearing me up for days. I should have listened to that part of me.”
“I’m
glad you didn’t. This has been one of those times where it is better to be safe
than sorry. You can’t afford to trust so freely.”
I
nodded, knowing he was right, but still regretting that I’d doubted him.
“Now
I need you to tell me about Aaron.”
The
last thing I wanted to do was the leave the safe and comforting circle of his
arms just to dredge up more bad memories from the past, but I had to end this,
and Aaron was the key to finding Emily, so I reluctantly pulled away and he let
me slip from his embrace.
“It
has to be him, but like I said, the last time I saw him, he was a twelve year
old boy. I don’t think I would know him if I saw him, but I’ll tell you
everything I remember.”
He
grabbed the laptop from the coffee table and opened it up. “You said his last
name was Lee?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Do
you know date of birth and location?”
“Umm,
I think he was probably born in Sweet like I was, or maybe a nearby town, but
I’m not positive. I remember his birthday was during the winter. January or
February maybe, but I don’t remember what day.”
“That’s
alright; I’ll see what I can find.”
His
fingers struck keys and I watched him enter the name and some of the
information I’d given him into some sort of search. At my angle I couldn’t read
what the search brought up, but I could see the scowl on Spencer’s face deepen
as he read it. He turned his head toward me. “Is there anyone else who would
know about Aaron and his connection to you? Anyone else from back then, or
since, who knows about the poem and the roses?”
“No.
Why?”
“Because
this says that Aaron Lee died more than ten years ago.”
“It
has to be a different Aaron Lee then. I’m telling you, no one else knew about
the roses and poem. It has to be him.”
“This
is the right Aaron. The age and information matches up. Says he was born in
Sweet, like you said, to a Carol and Robert Lee who were both killed in a drunk
driving accident when he was two. Looks like after that he lived with his
paternal grandmother until she passed away a few years later. After that he was
put into the system.”
“That’s
him, but then how is it possible he’s dead?”
“I’m
not sure. Maybe he told someone else about you. I’ll have to look into where he
was sent after the two of you were separated. Not all of the information is
here. I can have my guys dig a little deeper and see what they can find out
about where he lived and how he died. If there’s a connection between your past
or his and someone in your life now, we’ll find it. I’m also going to call
Monroe and give him the heads up. Maybe they’ll be able to dig up what we need
on Lee faster, depending on warrants and how much tape they have to cut
through. Either way, the more people we have looking into it, the sooner we’ll
catch the guy.”
I
agreed and while he stepped into the kitchen to make his phone calls, I went in
search of the phone I left behind this morning. It was on the bathroom vanity,
where I’d done my make-up this morning. I had multiple missed calls from James,
my mother, Nathan, Detective Parker and Agent Monroe. Even Shaw had tried to
call me earlier. If I hadn’t forgotten my phone, I probably could have avoided
the minor heart attack and confrontation that happened when I came home
tonight.
After
a quick call to my mother to check-in, leaving out the connection to Aaron for
now, I let her know a little of what was going on and then hung up and dialed James
back. This time I got him, and unlike my mother, I told him about Aaron. I
glazed over most of the gory details of my past, giving him an abbreviated
version. Once I’d filled him in and reassured him I wasn’t pissed that he kept
Spencer’s secret, I promised I would call again as soon as we had more
information, and then he had to go.
I
hollered out to Spencer that I was going to take a shower, and shut myself
inside the bathroom. When I emerged, wrapped in my robe, he had a cup of hot
chocolate waiting for me. He even dug in my cupboards and found a bag of mini
marshmallows and drizzled some of my caramel sauce in it. It was very fancy hot
chocolate, and I grinned around my first sip.