Next Day Gone

by J C Wing

  Edie grinned and fell into step with Willow. “It does now.”

  THE SLEEPING BEAUTY STRANGLER

  Willow couldn’t imagine her stomach getting any bigger. She was grateful that her work uniform was a t-shirt and leggings, and fortunately for her, the maternity department at Dillard’s carried the latter in her size.

  She’d been working the ten to six shift since school got out, and since she’d been moved to the office, she’d had less contact with the patrons of the gym. She was a good employee, and she and her boss, Katie, had become friends in the months she’d worked there. Katie hadn’t mentioned the fact that it was probably better to have Willow and her growing belly back in the office, especially since many of the customers had voiced their surprise—and oftentimes displeasure— at seeing a pregnant teenager at the front desk. Willow was fine with that. She’d found that the edges around her temper had become a bit sharper the closer she got to her due date. Carrying a baby was no easy task, especially in the last weeks of a pregnancy at the end of July, and she was just fine being tucked away where both she and the gym goers were safe.

  The day had been a long one, and she still had almost three hours to go. Willow’s back was aching, and she was exhausted. She stood up from her desk chair and pressed her fingertips into the skin on either side of her spine.

  She’d had the small television playing in the office, the volume on low. When the emergency banner began scrolling across the screen, it caught Willow’s eye.

  BREAKING NEWS … A third body has been found at the Basilica of Saint Lawrence …

  Willow watched the words as they moved, and she felt a throb start in the base of her skull. She grabbed the remote and turned the volume up just as the screen flicked and the wholesome antics of The Brady Bunch were exchanged for breaking local news.

  “We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you this developing story,” the anchorman announced. “At approximately two o’clock this afternoon, a gardening crew uncovered the body of a young woman hidden in the shrubbery in front of the Basilica of Saint Lawrence on Haywood Street in downtown Asheville. Police say that the woman was not carrying identification. She is approximately five feet four inches tall with blonde hair and brown eyes. Sheriff Max Cabot, who is unavailable at this time, gave our own Leigh Hughes a brief statement just moments ago. Leigh, are you there?”

  A bright blue sky was the backdrop for the twin chapels that rose up to meet it. The reporter looked to be across the street from the building, and Willow could see the yellow crime scene tape behind her.

  “Hello, Mary and Brad. About fifteen minutes ago, Sheriff Max Cabot released this statement. It reads, ‘The Asheville Police Department, in conjunction with the Federal Bureau of Investigation, believes that the deaths of Jocelyn Porter, Diana Drake and Jane Doe, who was found on the grounds of the Basilica of Saint Lawrence this afternoon, are possibly the victims of the same killer or killers. After going over the details of the crimes, we believe that we could very likely be dealing with a serial killer and strongly urge the citizens of our fair city to be on high alert. As soon as the third victim has been identified and her family has been notified, we will release more information. Thank you.’”

  Leigh Hughes looked back into the camera, and Willow felt an unusual pain slide across her lower abdomen.

  “Oh …” Willow quickly moved one hand from her back and used it to prop herself up against the desk.

  “Right now, the police have not shared any details about the killer, but we are told that a profiler is carefully looking at the specifics of these murders. There are rumors we’re hearing around the city that some folks are calling the killer The Sleeping Beauty Strangler as all three women had long blonde hair like the character in the popular animated film and appeared to be sleeping when they were discovered.”

  Willow felt a sharp jab of pain, then a warm wet gush between her legs.

  “Katie!” she yelled, not knowing if her boss was still in the building. “Oh, lord,” she breathed, reaching for the phone on the desk. She swatted at the receiver, popping it from the cradle and grabbing it as it slid toward her.

  “Has a press conference been scheduled, Leigh?” Brad wanted to know.

  “Not at this time,” Leigh answered. “We’ve been told that as soon as the police have more information on this latest victim, and once she has been positively identified by her family that the department will alert the media. Until then, our thoughts and prayers are with these three women and their loved ones.”

  Willow pushed a button, she wasn’t even sure which one, and waited for someone to pick up. When they did, she yelled into the receiver, “This is Willow in the office. My water just broke. I need a ride to the hospital!”

  Alex met Willow at the ER entrance and had a maternity nurse and a wheelchair waiting for her when she got there.

  “I’ve called your mom,” he told her as they made their way upstairs.

  “And E? Someone needs to call E.”

  “Let’s get you where you need to be, and I’ll take care of it. Elias will want to be here, too.”

  “Daddy, they found another girl …” A contraction hit and took Willow’s breath away. Her fingers tightened around the arms of the wheelchair and she quietly groaned through the pain. The nurse backed her into the elevator and as the doors closed, Alex gave her shoulder a squeeze.

  “I know they did, baby girl. Put that out of your mind for right now. You’ve got more important things to think about for the next little while.”

  He was the most wonderful thing Willow had ever seen. He weighed eight pounds, four ounces and had a full head of light brown hair. He was chubby, his face squished and red, and his dark eyes stared back at his mama as she cradled him in her arms.

  “I can’t believe he’s finally here,” Edie said reaching over to run her fingertip across his rounded cheek. She sat next to Willow on the bed and Corinne snapped pictures. “You did so well, Willow. I’m so proud of you.”

  “Thanks, E.” She was emotional; happy that delivery was over but scared because instinctively she knew that as scary as that had been, it was one of the easiest parts that made up the whole of motherhood. She was only nine months in and the road before her was a long and arduous one.

  Elias knocked on the partially open door and poked his head in. “Is it safe to visit?”

  Willow looked up and caught his eye. “Come and meet your nephew.”

  Elias walked in followed by Parker.

  Corinne shook her head. “Where one goes, the other always follows.”

  “We were at work when Dad called,” Elias explained as he walked to the bed. “I’m probably not too dirty,” he said, reaching for the baby. Willow handed him over and watched as the expression on Elias’s face softened.

  “What’re we supposed to call the little dude?” Parker asked. Everyone turned to look at Willow.

  “His name is Andrew Heath Larsen.”

  “Now, I know where Heath came from,” Elias said, glancing down at Edie.

  “But what about Andrew?” Corinne asked.

  Willow folded her hand around Edie’s and gave it a squeeze. “I’ve been going through that baby name book you bought me, Mom, and I liked a lot of them, but Andrew just stuck out. Seems like a good, strong name. I want to call him Drew, though.”

  Alex reached out and touched the underside of his grandson’s wrist. When he moved his finger forward, Drew grasped it and held on with impossibly tiny fingers. “Drew it is then,” he said.

  The baby began to fuss and Elias handed him over.

  “I think he needs something only his mama can give him.” He looked pointedly at Parker. “Out,” he said, then turned back to his sister. “I’ll be back a little later.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Alex told him. “I need to check in with Vanessa, and I could use a cup of coffee. Anyone want me to bring anything back?”

  “Coffee,” Corinne replied.

  “A chocol
ate shake,” Willow requested.

  “Oh, make that two,” Edie added.

  Alex smiled. “Got it.” He put his hand on Willow’s head and she looked up to see his eyes. “He’s every bit as beautiful as you are. Good job, baby girl.”

  Corinne cleared her throat and stepped up to the bed as the men filed out of the room. “That’s not to say that this is an ideal situation.”

  The door closed and Willow positioned Drew at her breast. She did as the nurse had instructed, and the baby latched on. It was impossible to know if the two of them were doing things correctly, and she hurt everywhere as she lie there with her baby in her arms.

  “Don’t you worry, Mom,” Willow reassured her. “No one’s gonna be thinkin’ I didn’t go and mess everything up. That’s been covered. We got it.”

  Corinne quietly huffed, but Willow thought she looked the slightest bit chastised.

  “I can’t believe you named him after me,” Edie said, tipping her head and laying it lightly against Willow’s shoulder. Her fingers moved over the soft fluffy hair on Drew’s head.

  “Of course I did,” Willow told her. No one knew it, but he was named after his daddy, too.

  CRABTREE FALLS

  Elias’s old bedroom had been transformed into a nursery over the past few months, painted in shades of pale yellow, blue and green and filled with all the luxuries and necessities a new baby could possibly need. Two days after Drew arrived into the world, he and Willow were back at home trying to figure out their new normal.

  Edie sat on the floor in front of a laundry basket full of freshly washed baby clothes while Willow held Drew and sat in a rocking chair.

  “It was Emma Jones,” Edie said as she folded onesies and tiny socks. “The body they found at the basilica.”

  “Valedictorian Emma Jones?”

  Edie nodded. “They say the killer dumped her there the night before. Strangled, just like the others.” Edie’s eyes looked glassy and Willow knew she still missed Diana. It was unbearable thinking about what each of the girls had gone through before they died.

  “I’ve read stories about serial killers. You know, like Charles Manson and Ted Bundy, but the real stuff just freaks me out. I’ll read horror novels all day long, but that’s all fiction.”

  The pile of clothes was growing on the large rug Edie sat on. “I was so happy when you got Little Blue. I hated it that you hitchhiked. It always scared me. This stuff actually happens, Will. You were really lucky.”

  “Yeah,” Willow breathed, looking down at Drew’s perfect profile. “I know. I’ve made a lot of mistakes.” She bowed her head and kissed her son’s soft, chubby cheek.

  “He’s not one of them.”

  Willow looked up and caught the sad smile on her best friend’s face. “I’m aware that I don’t know the whole story behind how Drew came to be.” She raised her hand when Willow opened her mouth to speak. “I listened to what you told me, Will, and I’ll be honest, there are things that don’t quite click for me. I might not believe everything you said, but I do believe in you.”

  Willow closed her mouth and bit the inside of her cheek. Her gaze never fell from Edie’s.

  “I’m not asking you to talk about it,” Edie continued. “You’re all crazy hormonal, and you’ve got a diaper filled with ice stuffed in your undies. That’s a lot for any woman to deal with, so don’t start crying and upset the baby.” She gave her a smile and Willow felt a tear trickle down her face. “When you want to tell me what really happened, just know I’m here for you. I’ll always be here.”

  Three weeks later, Mars Hill University hosted their Live Like a College Student weekend. As the time drew closer, the more Willow felt like she wanted to attend.

  Drew slept peacefully in his bassinet as Willow peeled carrots in the sink. Willow stared out the window, lost in thought while she helped prepare the evening meal.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Corinne said.

  Willow continued to peel. “I was thinking about that thing Edie wanted me to go to this weekend.”

  “Up at Mars Hill?”

  Willow nodded. “I could get my degree there.”

  Corinne nodded. “Reputable school. Only twenty minutes from home.”

  “It might not be the worst thing to go and see what it’s like.” She looked into the bassinet and watched Drew. His lips moved while he slept, and he looked like a porcelain angel.

  “You argued with me about pumping,” Corinne reminded her, “but you’ve got a lot of milk stored in the freezer. I’d say just about enough to get Drew through the next two days.”

  Willow turned and looked at her mom. “You’d be okay if I went?”

  Corinne gave her a smile. “Go pack. If you leave now, you might only be a few minutes late.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” Willow leaned down and left a lingering kiss on Drew’s plump cheek. “I love you, little boy. Be good.”

  Willow pulled her Mustang into the parking area. She could hear the tires crunch over piles of dead leaves and warm air streamed from the vents into her face. There were several other cars parked in the lot between the girls’ residence halls and Belk Field. She thought she’d heard Edie mention that they played soccer and lacrosse on that field, then dismissed it. Edie was a cheerleader, or on the spirit team as they called them here at Mars Hill, and only the football and basketball teams were graced with their presence.

  Willow kept the engine running and watched another pair of headlights move in a half circle around the far side of the lot. The vehicle settled into a parking place a few spots down in the same row, and Willow paid it no mind as she sat in the car listening to the Goo Goo Dolls on the radio.

  When the DJ started talking, she pulled her phone out and dialed Edie’s number.

  “I’m busy doing better things than talking on the phone … leave a message …”

  She waited for the beep. “E, I changed my mind. I’m here. At the school. I’ll see you soon.”

  It was quiet when she killed the engine. She could hear the Mustang ping, and when she opened the door, the air was cold. She pulled her coat tightly around her and fumbled for the zipper. Her hair floated around in the breeze, and once her coat was zipped, she pushed her hands into the warmth of her pockets. She set off for Huffman Residence Hall, an old five story, red brick building with white trim on what the university called Women’s Hill.

  There were noises to her left. She heard someone get out of a car, presumably the one she’d seen park a few moments earlier. There was scuffling on the pavement, and suddenly, a shadow rushed up to her. She couldn’t discern any details about the person. She guessed it was a male because of his size, but that’s all the contemplation Willow was allowed.

  Without warning, her head exploded into a starburst of pain. It came from her left, but the impact shot her head hard and fast to the right, her brain bouncing wildly against her skull. She felt herself falling, but she didn’t have time to try and catch herself. Everything went black, and Willow’s body crumpled like a rag doll on the cold wet pavement not six feet away from Little Blue.

  Willow was upside down. Hanging, she thought. But she was bent over at the waist. And she was moving.

  Nothing made sense. Her eyes were open, but she couldn’t see anything, and what was it that kept touching her face? It felt like she was bouncing, and whatever it was her face was brushing against was making her nose itch. When she tried to reach up to scratch it, she realized someone’s fingers were wrapped around her right arm.

  What?

  She tried hard to remember what had happened. The weekend visit. Mars Hill. Drew sleeping in his bassinet. The parking lot. Someone had come up to her. Flash of pain, then nothing.

  Her head felt like a lead balloon as she bounced along. Someone had picked her up, the fireman’s carry, and her torso was against the person’s neck. Her legs hung down, but whoever was carrying her had a hold of one of them just above the knee. Who was she with? Why?

  Her head throbbed. She
was struggling to make sense out of anything.

  “Be careful,” “Make sure you call if you’ll be out past dark,” “Three young women have been killed near Ashville,” “A serial killer is on the loose …” Things she’d read, things she’d been told floated around her battered head.

  The person carrying her slipped and Willow jerked sideways, falling from his shoulders. They both went down, and Willow heard him grunt. She was disoriented and wasn’t sure how to break her fall. The ground rushed up to greet her, and she let out a grunt of her own when she landed and felt her hip crash to the hard stone below. Pain shot up through her back and brought tears to her eyes.

  “Shit,” she heard in a loud, hissing whisper as the man tried to find his footing.

  Suddenly, Willow was afraid. The sound of his voice, the sharp pain that resonated throughout her body. “Run!” she thought to herself as adrenaline began pumping through her chest and limbs. The pain had cut through the haziness she’d felt in her head, and everything in her body told her she was in danger. “Go!”

  Willow scrambled up to her hands and knees. She felt the slick, wet stone beneath her palms, smelled the scent of water. She took deep breaths of air into her lungs as she found her footing. She knew exactly where she was.

  She took off running. The boots she wore had a sturdy sole, but she knew how slippery the stone steps could be. She was having a hard time finding her balance. The hit to her head had caused a ringing in her ears, and her leg wasn’t working the way it was supposed to. Pain radiated everywhere, and there were no lights on the trail.

  Willow surged forward. She’d walked this path so many times that she could see it in her mind. She could hear him behind her, and she pushed harder, throwing furtive glances over her shoulder as her fear continued to increase. Whoever it was had a penlight, and Willow caught glances of legs clad in blue jeans and a dark colored coat.