One Last Step

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One Last Step Page 15

by Sarah Sutton


  “You did a great job, Mills,” he said to her.

  The corners of Tara’s mouth rose slightly, but she couldn’t hold back her feelings any longer.

  She hesitated, but then spoke. “I’m still not convinced it’s him,” she admitted.

  Warren’s smile faded. “Don’t keep pushing this, Mills. You’re going to get yourself into trouble for no reason.”

  A silence fell around them, before Warren continued to reassure her that they had found the right person, and then he reached for the door.

  “Drop the evidence off at the station on your way back to the hotel, and then get some solid rest. We’ll fly home tomorrow.”

  And at that, he left the room, leaving Tara alone with her thoughts.

  She tried to push the feelings away, once again. But no matter how many times she told herself that, her gut feeling grew stronger and she knew it was not something she could ignore. But, even if she gave in to her doubts, she didn’t even know where to begin. She needed solid evidence to prove that James Hayden was innocent, and going off on her own would most likely cost her career.

  But then she looked down at her hand, which held the evidence bag. She reached into it and pulled out the compasses. These mean something, she told herself. I could take them. She knew that taking evidence with her would get her in trouble, but she also knew it was safer than going off on her own. Instead of dropping off the evidence tonight, she could bring them back tomorrow morning—before anyone would know they were gone.

  This was her last chance to study this evidence. The case was closed. She was going home. She needed more answers, and she couldn’t help but feel that the compasses held all that she needed. Her heart pounded as she tucked them back into the evidence bag. It was a rash move, she knew it, but the urge was too strong.

  Just when she walked to the door, one last moment of doubt seeped into her mind and she paused briefly. I could get in a lot of trouble for this, she told herself. But, just as the doubt crept into her mind, so did her feelings of why she needed to take them. I just need to study them for a bit longer, she told herself. No one will even know they’re gone. She stepped through the doorframe and let the door close behind her.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Her head was pounding, thumping against her skull as if desperate to shake her—to awaken her—and it had finally been successful. She opened her eyes and all that surrounded her slowly came into focus.

  She had seen bits and pieces of it all before, when he brought her here—when he dragged her through the barn doors, when he tied her hands and feet so tight with rope that she had lost feeling of her extremities. She was disoriented then, swaying between the here and the confines of her mind until her exhaustion beat her into unconsciousness. But now she had awoken and she could see so clearly—the bloodstained floor and the bodies piled on top of each other like slaughtered pigs.

  It had shaken her then, but she had been in such a haze that it didn’t pierce through her body like it did now as if she were seeing it for the first time. She was staring at her fate, that much she knew. Her shoulder was wrapped carefully with gauze. He had attended to her wounds, he had even given her water—pouring it into her mouth as her mind swirled into a haze of confusion. He had kept her alive, and she knew it was only to have more time to do what he did to them.

  Next to her, a gasp of air bubbled to the surface of the room, and her attention was drawn to the source. Her sister lay next to her, her body vibrating as it tried to find warmth from a chill. Her wound too had been bandaged up but she knew it was much more serious than her own. The gauze wrapped around her leg was now the color of red rust as it continued to bleed.

  “Kelsey,” she suddenly whispered.

  She wanted to wake her. The man who brought them there was now nowhere in sight, and she knew that time was limited. But, as she said her sister’s name, it only affirmed that she was in no state to move. Her eyes fluttered open for just a moment, but her body didn’t even have the energy to hold them there and they quickly closed.

  “Kelsey,” she said again, this time a bit louder.

  She wanted to nudge her, but she couldn’t find a way to do so with her limbs tied together. All she was left with were her words, and as she said her sister’s name again, her eyes only fluttered once more—but this time weaker—and she knew she was only wasting precious time.

  She was on her own, and it was up to her to save them both. She needed to get help. But how? She scanned the barn. If she could just find something to cut the rope around her wrists, that was all she needed. But as she looked around her, it became evident that he was too clever to leave something behind that could possibly assist an escape. The barn was barren of anything except vacant bodies and her and her sister. Her mind suddenly grew dizzy as it wandered to the thought that if she didn’t act quick enough, she and her sister would soon also lie in that pile lifeless.

  She scanned the barn once more and could see a sliver of sunlight seeping through a crack in the barn door. It was slightly open, and she knew if she could only get her body free, she could easily make a run for it. And so she tried with all she had to wrestle her legs out of the rope, but it was too tight and too well tied and all it did was chafe her ankles. She then tried her wrists, but they too were tied too tight.

  Can I make it? she thought to herself. If she could only get outside, find a rock, she might be able to cut through it. The door wasn’t far, so she threw her body onto the floor as quietly as possible and then shimmied herself toward it. At each thrust of movement, she could feel the pull of her wound and it racked her body with pain, but she needed to keep moving for her sister, and for herself.

  And so she focused on the door, on the light shining through it, as she continued to lie on her side, bringing her knees up to her chest and then pushing them back out in one fluid movement. Over and over again she would do this, like an inchworm frantically fleeing a predator. Each time she gained length, she pushed even harder as hope dripped through her veins. And just when close enough, she squeezed herself through the crack in the barn door as it gave way.

  She was outside. The smell of fresh cut grass filled her nose but as she looked around, she had no clue where she was. She lay in a field of green grass next to a home she’d never seen before. There were no neighbors, no other houses—only the forest surrounding the property, and a long dirt driveway.

  If I can just get down the driveway, she thought to herself. There must be a road. But first, she needed to free herself. Her eyes fell upon a nearby rock. She didn’t have time to think it through. She rammed her legs into it and then continued to pull them forward and backward, in an effort to saw through the rope. It was thick but she could see each fiber give way as it slowly cut through.

  But then she heard something, someone running toward her.

  “Stupid girl,” she heard.

  But this time, it wasn’t a man’s voice. It was a woman’s. And before she could even turn around, she felt a hand clasp her hair, and then her body being dragged.

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  Tara sat at the small table in her hotel room, staring at the slice of pizza she had just bought for herself. Her eyes moved toward the compasses, in their evidence bags, sitting upon a desk across the room. Tara had yet to look at them. She had second-guessed herself numerous times already, and she couldn’t yet bring herself to push a little further. She was afraid to go too far, afraid of what Warren said to her, and she was afraid of being wrong.

  She was going home tomorrow. It was a reality that had finally sunk in, and it was all her mind could focus on. As much as she wanted to be excited—to enjoy the feeling of triumph that Warren felt—something just didn’t feel right to her. It all felt too easy. It felt too unsure. And her mind kept fixating on one thing—the compasses.

  It felt too heavy of a piece of evidence to ignore. Why did James Hayden have so many collected objects in his apartment, yet, they never found any compasses? It was a question
she kept asking herself. What if he really did just steal the wallets, the camera? But there was also something deeper that caused her to question it all—it wasn’t whom she would expect.

  James Hayden was not brilliant. He made himself look guilty without even trying to do otherwise. He was weak-minded, and it was hard for Tara to believe that the killer was such. After all, the killer had gone undetected for this long; he had taunted them with the compasses and engravings in the tree. In Tara’s eyes, he was not someone who would give up easily—he was too smart for that.

  Her stomach growled once again, as if frustrated that dinner sat in front of her, untouched. She picked up the slice of pizza and slowly took a bite. It was almost cold, reminding her how long she had been sitting there, and how she had barely eaten all day. As she took another bite, her phone rang. It was John.

  She picked up and before she could even say hello, his voice came through on the other end.

  “Why didn’t you call? Congratulations! It’s all over the news!” John spoke abruptly.

  It took Tara a moment for it to register what he was referring to. The case. It must’ve already been mentioned on the news that they caught someone, and again, Tara felt her stomach churn at the realization.

  “I was going to call you soon. I was just having dinner,” she replied.

  “That’s great! When are they sending you home?”

  There was a moment of silence before Tara spoke again.

  “Tomorrow,” she finally said.

  “What’s wrong?” John asked, without the playfulness he had seconds ago. He could hear it in Tara’s voice.

  “Nothing—I don’t know,” Tara began and John waited for her to continue.

  He knew that when Tara said “nothing,” it usually meant something, and that it would soon be followed with more to say.

  “I just don’t feel the way I thought I would now that this case is over,” she finally admitted.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I just—” she began, trying to come up with the best way to turn her feeling into words. “Something just doesn’t feel right to me. This guy we caught—there’s just certain things that make me think it might not be him.” She let her words slide off her tongue and once she finished, the feeling in her gut swirled into full force, like a dam that just broke free.

  “Well, what does your partner think?”

  “That’s the thing. He doesn’t agree with me. He’s completely sure,” Tara replied.

  John paused for a moment. “Well, this is your first case,” he started. “Your partner’s been doing this a very long time, right?”

  “Yeah,” Tara affirmed, feeling her heart begin to sink. He was doubting her too.

  “Maybe you should trust him,” he said. “At this point in your career, I wouldn’t do anything that’ll ruffle feathers, you know what I mean?”

  Tara sighed. In a way he was right, but it was still a feeling she couldn’t quite shake off.

  “I just wouldn’t go against your partner unless you were absolutely certain. That’s all I’m saying,” John added. “You’re very new at this. They’re still gaining confidence in you, so you don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that.”

  He’s right. He’s completely right, Tara thought to herself .

  “Yeah, I know,” she replied. “Maybe I should just let it go.”

  “Just try to focus on more positive things,” John said before explaining his plans for when she got home—that he would take her out to dinner to celebrate her first case being over.

  But as he spoke, Tara’s mind spiraled elsewhere—onto the case, onto her doubt, and then onto her exhaustion as she let out a yawn.

  “But you should get some sleep. I’m sure you need it,” John finally said.

  His words reminded her how little sleep she’d gotten throughout the case, and the thought of being able to get some suddenly excited her. After agreeing to his suggestion, and saying their goodbyes, Tara was soon off the phone, leaving her alone once again.

  She finished eating her now completely cold pizza, but she didn’t care how cold it was. Her body needed it, and as she ate, she mulled over John’s words in her head. In a way, John was right. She didn’t have anything to prove her feeling, and maybe that’s all it was—a feeling. It was too early in her career to make rash moves.

  After she finished her dinner, she got ready for bed and allowed her body to fall limp against the mattress. At moments, the compass and her doubts crept into her mind, but she pushed them away as she allowed the sleep she so desperately needed to wash over her.

  ***

  Tara kicked the blankets away from her feet once again and shifted onto her side. She’d been lying in bed for hours, but her eyes had yet to feel heavy. Tara forcefully shut them once again and focused on clearing her mind of any thoughts. But each time she got closer to sleep, a thought seeped into her mind—that lingering doubt.

  Her eyes popped open once again and this time she saw that the curtains were beginning to lighten as the beginnings of dawn filtered into the room. What time is it? she wondered as she reached for her phone on the bedside table. 5 AM. Tara let out a frustrated sigh. She knew her chance at sleep had come and gone.

  She sat up in her bed and reached for the light on her nightstand. This isn’t normal, she told herself. As much as she wanted to forget her doubts, it was something her mind wouldn’t allow her to ignore. It was eating away at her.

  She stared across the room at the compasses, sitting atop the desk, catching the bits of light filtering through the curtain, creating an unworldly glow. Each time she looked away, the light would catch and she couldn’t help but look back toward them. And finally her mind itched to take a peek. She moved her body to the edge of the bed and walked across the carpet, until she stood in front of them.

  She stared down at them. They were all identical except for one, pointing north when all the rest pointed south—it was the only compass that differed, the one found at the second crime scene. She had known this, but it had always seemed odd to her. It was like looking at a row of perfectly planted bushes around someone’s lawn, and one being significantly shorter than all the rest, making one wonder if it was intentional or not. In a way, it was—that much Tara was sure of because each compass pointed in the direction of the next crime scene.

  But what Tara questioned was why the killer went north after killing the first two victims, only to move south again after killing the third. It seemed as if he were creating a pattern, moving south down the trail, but that one murder—that one victim who somehow got away before he shot one final arrow into her back—was a kink in it all. She wondered if it irked him—it had to.

  It didn’t make sense why the victim was found north either. After all, she was supposed to be moving south and had already passed through the area where her body was found. Of course, she could’ve gone back up north to visit the waterfalls that she learned from the women at the campsite, but Tara couldn’t help but feel that that was unlikely. She had left the campsite and then hiked south to Hanover, so why after reaching Hanover, would she then make the decision to turn around, prolong her trip, and hike past the campsite? If she wanted to see the waterfalls, wouldn’t she have gone before visiting Hanover?

  Tara floated those thoughts in her head until another struck her with full force. What if the killer caught her right after she left Hanover? He had taken all the bodies of his victims, except for hers. Was it possible that he tried taking hers too, and then she got away? Tara rolled it over in her head over and over again as she stared down at the map. That crime scene was the furthest north. If her theory were right, then that would mean the trail killer was bringing the bodies north. And then another thought struck her like a bullet—that would mean he was bringing the third victim back alive.

  Tara’s heart thumped against her chest. Could he have just been wounding his victims? And then bringing them somewhere else to finish them off? She contemplated that thought as she st
udied the map. There were numerous towns north of Hanover, and her heart sank. She had no idea where she would even need to start, and if her theory was right, she needed to act fast.

  But another thought surfaced in her mind. It was the girl from the information center. She had given Tara her personal number and Tara knew she might possibly know how to narrow her search. After all, the girl knew the trail well.

  Tara checked the time. It was still early—5:45 AM—but she didn’t have a choice. She scrambled for her wallet, where she had placed the slip of paper with the woman’s number hours earlier, and then dialed it into the phone.

  She didn’t answer at first, but Tara called back a second time and after the phone rang for five seconds, an agitated, groggy voice spoke.

  “Hello?” she said.

  “I’m sorry to bother you this early,” Tara started before explaining who she was.

  “It couldn’t wait another hour?” the girl replied. “I thought you already arrested James.”

  “We did, but I’m not calling about that.”

  “Then what could it be about?”

  Tara remained quiet for a moment, wondering if she’d already gone too far. But her instincts clung to her mind, desperate not to be ignored.

  “I’m not sure if James is guilty, and I want to be sure,” she blurted.

  The girl was silent on the other end and then spoke. “To be honest, I was a bit surprised when I heard the news. I didn’t think he was a murderer, but then again, you can never be too sure.”

  Her words only fueled Tara further. “Are there any entry points to the trail in New Hampshire, just north of Hanover?”

  “There’s a ton,” the girl said before naming a few.

  Tara needed to narrow it down. “Any entry points that have a connection to a compass maybe?”

  But the girl only confirmed that she didn’t know of a connection.

 

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