Hush Little Girl

by Lisa Regan

  “Here we go,” said the manager, pointing to the screen. “This is the Chief pulling in and parking.”

  They watched the screen as Josie’s car pulled into the spot. Chitwood got out, clicked the key fob and walked off. The manager fast-forwarded the footage. About ten minutes later, a hooded figure appeared on the edge of the screen, walking down the row of cars. The hood was pulled too low to make out any of his features. His hands were jammed into his hoodie pockets. Josie noted that he wore jeans and a pair of boots. Not what she’d seen Rory wearing the day before when she’d encountered him. Unless he had gone back to his house and changed. But Josie didn’t remember seeing any clothing that looked like it belonged to him in the house.

  “Here he goes,” said the security manager.

  The figure stopped at Josie’s car and stared for a few seconds, as if trying to decide something. Maybe whether or not he had the right vehicle? Then he panned the area and quickly pulled the pinecone doll from his hoodie pocket and put it on the windshield. Checking all around once more, he ran out of the frame.

  Chitwood said, “What in the hell is going on here?”

  Noah said, “Why is this kid going to all this trouble to come here and leave the doll? Why Josie?”

  “The doll means he’s sorry,” Gretchen said. “That’s what Emily told us. Rory leaves them for her when he’s sorry.”

  Chitwood said, “Is he trying to say he’s sorry for shooting Mrs. Matson?”

  Noah said, “A crazy-looking doll is not going to fix this. That kid needs to be in custody. Now.”

  “That’s not Rory,” Josie said.

  They all turned toward her.

  “Rory’s only fifteen. He can’t drive yet. Even if he could, where would he get a vehicle? He didn’t even have a bicycle. Lorelei kept him on her property. He was her big secret, remember?”

  “If that’s not Rory,” Gretchen said, “who is it?”

  “Paxton Bryan,” Noah said. “It has to be. He’s got a driver’s license and access to his dad’s vans.”

  Chitwood said, “What was Paxton Bryan doing out in the woods by Harper’s Peak last night? How did he know where to find Quinn today?”

  “And if he’s protecting her, why is Emily leaving the buttons behind?” Gretchen added.

  Josie said, “Emily went into the woods. We know that. We also know that Pax is frequently out there on his bike, and he also drives up and down the road from the produce market to Harper’s Peak often. He would have seen all the police vehicles. All he would have had to do is ask any of the searchers what was going on. Maybe he went out to look for her.”

  “I’ll buy that,” Chitwood said. “But why is Pax leaving the pinecone doll? I thought that was Rory’s thing.”

  Josie scrubbed her hands over her face, trying to rub away her exhaustion. Her mind felt foggy. “Emily never said Rory’s name. Jesus. We’ve been looking at the wrong person this entire time.”

  “Shit,” Gretchen said. “The boss is right. Emily said ‘he.’ She never said a name. We just assumed it was Rory based on the fact that he had a history of violence.”

  “And his blood type,” Josie pointed out.

  “We don’t know Pax’s blood type,” Gretchen said. “It could also be O positive. Pax wears size ten shoes.”

  Noah said, “Emily said Pax was her friend. Would she say that if he had killed her mother and sister?”

  Josie said, “That’s a good point. She knew to hide when Rory got violent. That was part of the safety plan.”

  “But she didn’t actually see the murders,” Gretchen said. “That’s the theory we’re operating on. Things got violent and she hid.”

  “Still, the safety plan applied to Rory,” Josie insisted.

  Chitwood said, “Maybe the Pax kid was there that morning. Maybe things got heated and Emily just went to her hiding place because that’s what she’d been conditioned to do.”

  “Then why wouldn’t she just tell us Paxton was there?” said Gretchen.

  “She didn’t even tell us she had a brother,” Chitwood pointed out. “But she did mention Paxton. She told the social worker about him, didn’t she?”

  Josie nodded.

  Noah said, “Paxton Bryan has an alibi for the time Lorelei and Holly were killed.”

  “His dad,” Josie said. “Reed Bryan isn’t going to win any awards for father of the year, but I believe he’d lie to protect his son. Still, something about all of this doesn’t fit.”

  “Then we don’t have all the pieces yet,” Chitwood said. “We’ll bring Reed in for questioning. We also need to find all three of these kids: Pax, Rory, and Emily. We need to do it now before anyone else gets hurt. I’ll send patrol over to the Bryan farm and the market right away.”

  Noah said, “If Pax isn’t there and he’s driving around in one of his dad’s vans, we need to put a BOLO out on whatever vehicle he’s using. We’ve still got the issue of Rory Mitchell, who may or may not be homicidal, wandering around in the woods.” He turned to Gretchen. “What happened with the searches?”

  “Nothing. Nothing happened. All we found were the spent shotgun shells near where Lisette went down. As you know, we can’t get prints from them once they’ve been shot from the gun, so they’re useless.”

  Noah said, “What about the dogs? They didn’t find anything?”

  Gretchen shook her head. “We’ve had three dozen people and two K-9 units out working all night long. They’ve got nothing. We had clothes for Emily’s scent, and we found a coat at Lorelei’s house that we believe belongs to Rory that we used for his scent. Those dogs ran for miles through the woods, until they were almost falling over from exhaustion. They lost both scents.”

  “Dogs don’t lose scents very often,” Josie said. “Unless there are certain weather conditions—of which there were none—or the person is carried off in a vehicle.”

  Noah said, “Whose vehicle would they get into?”

  “As far as we know right now, Paxton is the only person in this entire scenario with access to a vehicle,” Josie said.

  Chitwood said, “Which is another reason why we’re going to find that kid as soon as possible.”

  Josie asked, “Did anyone find out whether Celeste was lying or not about what time Emily disappeared?”

  Noah said, “I found the employee Lisette spoke with. He called Celeste a full two hours before Adam called us. I asked her about it, but she would only say that she lost track of time.”

  “Bullshit,” Josie muttered.

  Gretchen said, “Both Rory’s and Emily’s scents were found at Harper’s Peak.”

  Chitwood said, “We know why Emily’s was there. But why would Rory be up the mountain that far? He wouldn’t have known that’s where she was.”

  Josie said, “Neither would Pax. No one told him where Emily was going. Even if he’d driven up there to deliver something for his father, Emily was at the private residence. He couldn’t have seen her.”

  Gretchen said, “Unless he overheard someone on the staff talking about it.”

  Chitwood said, “All right. What we’ve got here is the following scenario: the girl was at the private residence at Harper’s Peak yesterday. Rory Mitchell was out in the woods. We know that because he beat the hell out of Quinn, and she chased him. Pax was at the stationhouse giving a statement for some of yesterday and then Mettner dropped him back off at the produce market. Shortly after that, Emily walked out of the residence and into the woods. Lisette saw her. It appeared as though she was alone. When Lisette took Quinn to check out the spot where the girl went into the woods, someone shot at them. Searchers trawled the mountain from the Mitchell house to Harper’s Peak looking for Rory and Emily and found nothing. Next thing we know, Pax shows up here and leaves the creepy doll on Quinn’s car.”

  “Yep,” Gretchen said. “That’s where we are.”

  Josie’s phone buzzed in her scrubs pocket. She took it out to see a text message from Trinity. “We can see my grandmother now
.”

  Twenty-Nine

  Lisette was still sleeping. She looked tiny and frail in the hospital bed, dwarfed by all the equipment attached to her. For the first time, she looked old, Josie realized. In her seventies and eighties, even with a walker and terrible arthritis, Lisette had always seemed so vital to Josie. In Josie’s mind, she had never aged. She was always the woman who took Josie roller skating and to the beach for the first time. Full of energy. A mischievous sparkle in her eye. Josie wished she would open her eyes, but the medical staff had told them it could be hours before she woke.

  Her right arm was in a thick cast and propped on a pillow. At least someone had taken the time to clean her up. Gone was all the blood, although Josie could still see some wounds starting to scab over where Dr. Nashat had removed the buckshot on her good arm and on her chest where the hospital gown had drooped. The ICU nurse only let two of them in at a time and only for ten minutes each. Noah stood behind Josie as she stared down at Lisette. Her tears came hot and fast. They were unstoppable. Compartmentalizing was one of Josie’s special skills, but looking down at her grandmother—easily the most formidable woman Josie had ever known—she felt like her heart was splintering into a million pieces. She would never be able to put them back together.

  Josie reached through a mass of wires and IV tubes to find Lisette’s left hand. Squeezing it, she leaned in and whispered into Lisette’s ear. “Gram, I’m here. Everything’s going to be okay. I just need you to stay with me.”

  Lisette slept on, the steady rise and fall of her chest of little comfort to Josie. As the surgeon had made clear, it was her insides that had been ravaged by the shooting. It remained to be seen whether her body would heal completely or fall victim to complications or infection. Noah put his arm around Josie, holding her from behind, resting his head on top of hers. Josie kept hold of Lisette’s hand until the nurse came in to shoo them out. Outside the room, Sawyer waited to see Lisette. He glared at them. She noticed some slight bruising under his left eye where Noah had punched him. Josie felt a sudden uptick in her heartbeat. Even though Lisette wasn’t awake, she didn’t want a scene right outside her room. Thankfully, neither Sawyer nor Noah spoke, and Sawyer disappeared into Lisette’s room.

  The day was filled with waiting. Every hour, the nursing staff let her go into Lisette’s room to spend ten minutes with her. Josie spent the rest of her time in the ICU waiting room. Noah had found her spare set of clothes in the back of her car so she could change. The rest of her family, friends, and colleagues flitted in and out all day, trying to feed her, keep her hydrated, and get her to talk. Josie had nothing to say other than they shouldn’t have been there. She shouldn’t have had Lisette out near the woods. She didn’t say this to anyone because she knew they would have a thousand justifications as to why Lisette’s shooting was not her fault.

  Josie believed none of them.

  Finally, around three in the afternoon, Lisette woke. It was Sawyer’s turn to go into the room, so he went first. Josie hoped he wouldn’t say anything to upset their grandmother. She had no idea how lucid Lisette was or how much she remembered. When he came out, his face streaked with tears, she and Noah went in. Lisette lifted her good hand and Josie rushed to the bedside to take it. Josie met her eyes.

  She said, “It’s not your fault, Josie.”

  “I’m sorry, Gram,” Josie squeaked.

  “No, it’s not your fault. You must remember that.”

  For a moment, Lisette’s face went pale and a grimace of pain passed over it, deepening every line in her face.

  “It’s okay, Gram,” Josie said. “We don’t have to talk. You need to rest.”

  Lisette’s grip on Josie’s hand tightened. “I didn’t see his face,” she told them. “Only the barrel of the gun.”

  “I know,” said Josie. “It’s fine. We’re going to find him. There are dozens of people out there right now looking for him. Mettner and Gretchen are handling it. Don’t worry about that.”

  Lisette gave a small nod. Josie could see the toll it took on her body to speak. Josie didn’t press her. She was just happy to see her eyes open, to feel her warm hand. Lisette’s gaze drifted away from Josie and Noah and down to the foot of the bed. Then she looked back at Josie. “I’m not going to make it, dear.”

  More tears streamed down Josie’s face. She couldn’t control the sob that erupted from deep within her. “What? No, Gram. Don’t say that. You can survive this. The worst is over, the surgery—”

  Lisette squeezed her hand hard, and Josie stopped talking. “Two things: I don’t want you and Sawyer to fight. He’ll blame you but that’s his burden to bear, not yours. This was not your fault.”

  She paused and her chest rose and fell more quickly as she tried to catch her breath. Josie waited.

  “Second, I want you two to get married.”

  “We will,” Josie promised.

  “Absolutely,” Noah agreed.

  Lisette shook her head, the movement small. “No. Now. I want you to get married. I want to see it. I don’t want to go without seeing you two get married. Josie, he’s the best one.”

  Josie couldn’t help but laugh. “I know, Gram.”

  “If you don’t do it now, before I’m dead, you won’t do it.”

  “That’s not true,” Josie said.

  Lisette’s hand squeezed hers again. “Yes, it is.”

  Noah reached over and touched Lisette’s shoulder. “We’ll get married, Lisette. I promise.”

  “I just want to see…” she said, eyelids fluttering. They waited to see if she would continue, but her eyes drifted closed. Josie felt her grip loosen. For a second, Josie’s heart skipped, thinking Lisette had passed. Then she looked up at the screen showing Lisette’s vital signs, comforted by the steady numbers.

  They were ushered back out of the room shortly after that. As they approached the waiting room, Josie could see through the glass that everyone was waiting for news: Trinity, Drake, Shannon, Christian, Misty, Chitwood, and even Dr. Feist. She pulled up short, not ready to face anyone. Wiping away her tears, she looked up at Noah. “I have to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

  She let him go ahead and found the nearest bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face and sucked in several deep breaths. When she had composed herself, she went back into the hall and ran smack into Mettner. She bounced off his chest and he grabbed her by her upper arms before she could fall backward.

  Righting her, he looked down, his brown eyes deep pools of concern. “Boss,” he said. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to bump into you. I was looking for you, though. I’m really sorry about your grandmother. Chief says she’s still hanging on.”

  “Yes,” Josie said. “So far. Thank you.”

  “I came to tell you that, but also, I thought you and Noah would want to know—we found Reed Bryan at his farm. He was in the barn. Someone bludgeoned him to death.”

  Thirty

  Josie, Noah, Mettner, and Chitwood huddled in a corner of the hallway, out of earshot of the waiting room. Only Dr. Feist was privy to what they’d just learned, as they’d called her out of the room so she could respond to Reed Bryan’s death. Mettner held his phone in one hand and scrolled through his notes with the other as he spoke. “Searchers are still combing the mountain between the Mitchell place and Harper’s Peak. We couldn’t justify keeping the dogs any longer, but we do have officers out in the woods searching. I don’t think we’re going to find anything at this point. Not if we haven’t already.”

  Chitwood said, “Tell us about Reed Bryan.”

  Mettner scrolled some more. “I just came from the scene. Hummel and his team are processing it. Patrol went to his house earlier. Knocked on the door. No answer, but there was a truck parked on the premises. They ran the plates. It’s his personal vehicle. The officers had a look around, didn’t see anyone. The barn door was partially open so one of them went inside and found Reed deceased on the ground with severe trauma to his head. Looks like someone went co
mpletely off on him, and most of the blows were to the back of his head. At least from what I could tell. He’s a big guy, so to take him down whoever did it blitzed him from behind and didn’t stop until he was gone. Dr. Feist will examine him but from what I saw, it didn’t look like he stood a chance.”

  “Any idea what the killer used?” Noah asked.

  “There was a shovel nearby with his blood and some of his hair on it, so it looks like the killer left the weapon there.”

  “Pax?” Josie asked.

  “Not there. The house was searched, as were the rest of the grounds. No sign of him.”

  “What about the vans?” Noah asked. “He’s got two vans for his produce business.”

  Mettner nodded. “We found one of them. Actually, several people reported seeing it driving erratically through town. About a mile from the produce market, it crashed into someone’s front porch. Plowed right up over the grass and into the house.”

  “Oh my God,” said Josie. “Was anyone hurt?”

  “Thankfully, no,” Mettner said. “Homeowners reported seeing a teenage boy stumble out of the driver’s seat and take off running. They called it in, but we’re short with everyone searching the mountain right now, so by the time patrol got there, he was long gone.”

  “Did they get his description?” Chitwood asked.

  Mettner went back to his notes. “Caucasian male, about five foot nine, five foot ten, wearing baggy jeans and a blue hooded sweatshirt. That’s all I got.”

  “So we don’t know if that was Rory or Pax,” said Josie.

  “My money’s on Rory,” Noah said. “The erratic driving. He’s only fifteen. Maybe Lorelei taught him to drive a little, but he really wouldn’t have a good grasp on it, theoretically.”