Ominous

by Lisa Jackson

  She moved quickly, frowning at the thick cedar trees across the street. Their branches seemed to be moving, too. Was it the wind?

  There was still no answer on the line, but she sensed a presence.

  She scurried back into the house, throwing the bolt on the main door with a sigh of relief. “I can hear that you’re there,” she said. “And I can’t help you unless you talk to me.”

  Silence prevailed as she went to the front window of the house, pulled the window down and turned the lock. Staring out at the cedars, she saw the flimsy branches flicker and got the distinct impression that someone was there. When she finished with this call, she might want to call the police and report a trespasser, as the park was supposed to close at dark.

  Then came a whispering whoosh—a heavy breath. Not the sound of a desperate woman, it had the heavy timbre of a male groan.

  “Who is this?” she asked crisply.

  Another raspy breath, more like a satisfied sigh. Some asshole enjoying her fear.

  Then came a deep, low chuckle as, before her eyes, the cedars stirred and a dark figure appeared between the bushes.

  Her breath caught in her throat as fear surged through her, ice water in her veins.

  “I’m watching you, darlin’,” he ground out in a sickeningly smooth voice as he stepped into the street. “You’ve grown into quite a woman since I had you last. I bet you’ve learned how to satisfy a man. Why don’t you come on out and let me give you a good pounding?”

  Her knees trembled as he stepped closer.

  “You know I’m gonna get you.”

  Chapter 18

  Panic surged through her as he began to cross the street.

  No, no, no! How did he find her?

  Feeling naked and vulnerable in the window, Ruth wrenched off the ties of the lace curtains, fumbled to cover the glass, and then sprinted up the stairs to her daughter’s room.

  Thank God, Penny was undisturbed, still asleep. She closed and locked the window, then ducked into the hall and struggled to dial 911 with shaking hands.

  “Prairie Creek Dispatch,” said a female voice. “What’s the emergency?”

  “Someone’s outside. Someone …” Ruth tried to control the shrill panic in her voice. “He was threatening me.”

  “Your location?”

  Ruth gave her name and address.

  “Is he armed?”

  “I—I don’t know. I didn’t see a gun.”

  “Is he trying to break in?”

  “No … I don’t think so, but he could.”

  “Stay on the line with me, ma’am, okay? I’m sending a car over.”

  “I will.”

  As she waited for Naomi to dispatch a deputy, Ruth pulled on a robe and closed the rest of the upstairs windows. In less than ten minutes, a Jeep from the Sheriff’s Department pulled up quietly on the street outside. No lights or sirens, thank God. So grateful she wanted to cry, Ruth thanked the dispatcher and hung up. Then she unlocked the front door and stepped onto the screened-in porch.

  The fit officer who jogged up the porch steps turned out to be the sheriff himself. With dark hair and a medium build, Sam Featherstone seemed young to be a sheriff, though his calm manner made up for lack of experience. “You called about an intruder?”

  “He was in the trees over there, by the park.” Ruth pointed to the park across the street and explained that the stranger had called her and made threatening remarks as he moved toward the house.

  “So it’s someone who knows you? He had your phone number?”

  She explained that the man had called the hotline. “It had to be someone who knows I manage those calls.”

  “Can you describe him?” Featherstone asked.

  “It was too dark. I only saw a profile emerging from the cedars.”

  He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, looking up and down the street. “We’ll take a look around at the park and check the yard.”

  She thanked the sheriff, hugging herself against the cool night. Watching from the doorway as he clicked on a high-powered flashlight and began to check the bushes and shrubs, she realized the threat was long gone. The man would have been crazy to stick around once the sheriff’s Jeep pulled up.

  *

  Hugging a mug of coffee, Ruth sat with her feet propped up on the sill of her bedroom window and stared at the glorious gold and orange of the sunrise. She had slid the big red chair around to face the window, not wanting to take her eyes off the tall, dark cedars.

  On watch. On alert.

  She had changed into terry-cloth shorts and an oversized Santa Barbara sweatshirt, just in case she saw something that sent her running out to the street. Which didn’t make sense at all, as she would not leave her daughter alone in the house to run out and make herself a target. But sleep deprivation was wearing away at her logic.

  Now, looking ahead at the Fourth of July weekend, she realized she needed a plan, a way to safely get her daughter through the next few hours and days without…

  Without Penny knowing that a predator was watching her mom.

  Without being vulnerable to attack.

  If only she could whisk her daughter out of town for the weekend, back to California so that Penny could visit her dad or Disneyland. But a last-minute flight would cost a small fortune and a great deal of disappointment. Ruth and her mother had sold Penny on the events of the holiday weekend, beginning with the Lions Club pancake breakfast around two hours from now. People came from a hundred miles away to see the Fourth of July parade. Prairie Creek did it right.

  Ruth yawned, raking her hair back with one hand. She hadn’t slept at all last night, too afraid to close her eyes, but she couldn’t stand guard at this window forever.

  After the breakfast, the parade would overtake Main Street—a western-style parade with plenty of horses, cowboys and cowgirls, and American flags. Probably an old stagecoach and a surrey with the fringe on top, just like in the song. There’d be classic cars and local politicians. Maybe some guy dressed as Uncle Sam on stilts and another one dressed as Abe Lincoln. Half the kids in town would be riding at the tail end of the parade on bikes decorated with red, white, and blue ribbons and streamers.

  Ruth would be sure to keep Penny at her side every single moment.

  After dark, some people would head up to the ridge road to watch fireworks over the valley. Penny loved fireworks, but Ruth didn’t think she could bear the feeling of vulnerability, surrounded by strangers in the dark.

  On Sunday, everyone would head over to the fairgrounds for a barbecue, country music, and a rodeo exhibition—a taste of the events to come the following weekend when the rodeo came to town. Maybe she could talk Penny out of that part?

  Either way, she couldn’t go on like this.

  She had to come clean with her parents, the cops, even with her kid. And she would have to tell Ethan everything … or as much as he wanted to know. Right now, any involvement with her was a liability, and she wanted to make sure he knew the risk before things went any further. Maybe he would want to back off.

  She let out a groan as her head lolled back against the chair cushion. There were definitely going to be fireworks this Fourth.

  It was time to talk to Kat. Time to get it out there. Everything that had happened. Her pulse raising, she called the non-emergency number Sheriff Featherstone had given her.

  “I’m trying to reach Detective Starr. Kat Starr?”

  “She’s not in yet, but we’re expecting her shortly. It’s all hands on deck on a day like this. You want me to put you through to her voice mail to leave a message?”

  Ruth hesitated. “No. No, thanks. I’ll catch her another time.”

  She rose from the chair, stretching as she stared out at the bushes across the street. In the light of day, the landscape of the small park and the street of two-story homes seemed safe and tidy. Grabbing her robe, she headed into the bathroom for a quick shower.

  *

  On the short drive to her parents’ house,
Ruth brought up the topic. It was sort of the coward’s approach, dropping the bomb during casual conversation in the car, but she hoped the relaxed atmosphere would get the message across without alarming Penny.

  “You know that Mommy used to live here when she was in high school?” she began. “Back when I was a teenager, something bad happened. A man hurt me.”

  “What did he do?”

  “Let’s just say he was a bad guy, like Hans in Frozen.” A turncoat villain.

  “Mean and sneaky,” Penny said.

  “Exactly. He got away, and in my case the police never found him, so he wasn’t punished.”

  “Oh. Are you mad at him, Mom?”

  “I am, but mostly I want the police to find him.” Ruth glanced at her daughter in the rearview mirror. Absolutely unfazed. “I just wanted to let you know in case you hear the police or my parents talk about it. Because they’re still trying to catch the bad guy.”

  “Okay.” This made sense in an eight-year-old world. Penny was cool. “I hope they catch him, Mom.”

  “I do too.”

  The outdoor pancake breakfast went well, probably because Ruth was too exhausted to talk much, which allowed her parents a chance to shine and show off their granddaughter to anyone who stopped by their table. Buoyed by coffee and pancakes, Ruth was beginning to feel strong enough to make it through the day when she spotted Kat Starr working with the security detail at the edge of the park.

  She turned to Bev, who was talking to a mother of one of the other girls playing on the swings. “Stay with Penny for a minute, okay?” she asked.

  “Of course.”

  Although her heart was thrumming in her chest, it brought her some relief to think that this whole mess was spiraling to an ending. Soon the secrecy would be over.

  Kat’s petite frame seemed somehow substantial in her deputy’s uniform. Her dark hair was tied back in a twist, adding to her intensity. She acknowledged Ruth and stepped away from the other deputy. “Ruth.”

  “I’m sorry I haven’t returned your calls. I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready.”

  Kat accepted that. “The chief told me about your intruder last night.”

  “It was him,” Ruth said under her breath. “The man who raped me. It was him.” Kat frowned and seemed about to argue the fact, so Ruth rushed on. “I know that sounds paranoid, but he’s after me.” A sudden stab of emotion thickened her throat, infuriating Ruth. After all these years, she should be able to talk about her attacker without getting all choked up. “That was him last night.”

  “Could you identify him? Are you sure? It’s been—”

  “I know, fifteen years. Look, I can’t talk right now, and … I don’t mean to sound desperate, but maybe I am. The news about Courtney and Addie was bad enough, but now, to think that I’m a target … I’m going to put the truth out there, Kat. I’ve got to. I just need the weekend to tell my folks and …” Ruth was going to say “your brother,” but she said instead, “Just another day or two, and then we’ll talk. I don’t know who it is, but I have a few ideas. I’ve been profiling and compiling a list of suspects.”

  “Ruth, that’s our job. You don’t need to do that.”

  “It’s already done. I did it for my own protection— for myself and my kid. I’m not just profiling my rapist. I’m thinking of the man who attacked Courtney and Addie too.”

  Kat glanced over at the children on the swings. “I’m glad to hear you agree there might be a connection. That’s why I want you to go on the record about your assault. But don’t jump to conclusions, Ruth. You’re not working the investigation. There are facts of the case that you’re not taking into account …”

  “I’m dealing with it in my way, okay? I’ll call you when I’ve got things settled at home, and then I’ll come in and make a statement.”

  “Okay.”

  Kat sounded relieved, and maybe she was. Ruth flashed back to the girl Kat had once been, a respectful but stubborn kid who’d somehow had the good nature to let Ruthie tag along. Something about that goodness brought tears to Ruth’s eyes now. If it weren’t for the rape, they might have become good friends. If it weren’t for the rape, well …

  “When are you coming in?”

  Ruth thought about trekking to the department and relating the story of her attack to Sheriff Sam Featherstone. A trickle of sweat ran down her spine. She’d counseled others to come forward, but it was never easy. “Soon,” she said, bolstering up her flagging courage. “Soon.”

  *

  She dropped her parents off after the breakfast, parked, and followed them inside.

  It was now or never.

  She settled Penny in the den, telling her that mom needed some adult time with grandma. “Can I watch Nickelodeon?” Penny asked.

  It was a special treat, as they did not have cable at home. “Sure.”

  With Penny tucked away, Ruth returned to the kitchen, where her mother stood at the sink.

  “I’m making a pot of decaf,” Bev said. “It’s a long ways from here to the fireworks tonight. I may need a nap.”

  “A man was outside my house last night, threatening me.”

  “What?” Bev shut off the water and turned away from the sink.

  “I don’t know his identity, but I think it’s the same man who attacked me one summer years ago, back when I was in high school.”

  “What are you talking about? You were never attacked.”

  “I was, Mom. I was raped, but I didn’t tell anyone. I was embarrassed and afraid that you and Dad would be mad at me. That you would think it was my fault.”

  Her mother’s hand flew to her chest. Hearing a noise, Ruth turned to the doorway and found her father standing there, his face void of emotion.

  “Ruthie,” he warned. “What are you talking about? Now, don’t go exaggerating, like you do.”

  “It was rape, Dad,” Ruth said evenly. “The night I snuck out. I’m not going to let you dismiss it and marginalize the trauma.”

  “Oh, Lord help us!” Bev cried, tears in her eyes.

  “The night you snuck out,” he repeated reprovingly. “Why are you telling us this today? With all your mother does for you, cooking for you and taking care of Penny, you seem to go out of your way to create problems.”

  Ruth struggled to keep the fury from her voice. “I just wanted to give you fair warning because I’m going to the police, and you know how gossip flies around this town.”

  “If it happened when you were in high school, why open this can of worms now?”

  “Because someone came to my house and threatened me last night, and I think it was the man who attacked me. I need to tell the police the history so they can stop him before he hurts me again. Or Penny. Or anyone else.”

  “Now, wait. Let’s not exaggerate,” he said. “Who was this fellow?”

  “I don’t know. I hope the Sheriff’s Department can find him.”

  “Can they deal with it in a discreet way?” Bev asked. “They don’t have to put your name in the papers or interview you on television, do they?”

  Ruth paused in frustration. She had expected her mother to be more supportive, but instead she was concerned with keeping a clean reputation. “They won’t release my name, but people are going to figure it out. There are few secrets in a town like this.”

  She turned to her husband. “It’s so unfair. People are going to be talking about us, Rob, saying we didn’t raise our daughter right.”

  “Because I was raped?” Ruth asked in disbelief.

  “Please.” Her father sat down heavily at the table. “Stop saying that word.”

  “I know this is upsetting for all of us, but can we please talk about damage control?” Bev wiped her hands on the dishtowel, tears in her eyes. “Your father and I shouldn’t have to suffer embarrassment from something that happened ages ago. I say you just drop it, Ruth. Please, honey, let it go.”

  “And do nothing about a rapist who’s still out there, watching my house? Possibly a danger
to me and other women?”

  “The sheriff can pursue this intruder from last night,” her father said. “We need to stay out of it.”

  Bev was nodding. “Dad’s right. Leave it to the sheriff to find this man. Probably just a burglar or some drunk going home to the wrong house.”

  “No need to bring up unpleasantness from the past,” Rob agreed. “If you’re struggling with it, offer it up to the Lord and get yourself some counseling, but don’t inflict your personal problems on our community.”

  “That’s right; that’s the right thing to do.” Bev let out a sigh of relief. “You’re so good at managing these things, Rob.”

  As her parents went on some more about how a person needed to keep their problems to themselves, Ruth felt as if she were watching a scene in a farce. Their focus was on saving face, without a trace of concern for the terror and trauma Ruth had endured.

  They don’t care about me. They’re making this all about them.

  It hurt to realize the level of her parents’ selfishness, but then again she wasn’t surprised. They had never truly been her advocates. They hadn’t noticed when the bottom dropped out of her world fifteen years ago, and they weren’t looking out for her now.

  I’m on my own.

  The realization was liberating in some ways. No longer would she be tethered to getting her parents’ approval for her life choices.

  “Well, that just wiped me out.” Bev pressed her fingertips to her temples. “The stress has gone straight to my head. I’m going to take a nap.” She shuffled out of the kitchen, leaving the coffee unmade.

  “I hope you’ve learned something here,” Rob said. “You can’t spring bad news on your mother like that. She’s a strong woman, but she’s worked hard to maintain a pristine reputation in this town. We both need people to think the best of us.”

  Ruth replaced the plastic lid on the coffee can and left the pot of water. Her father could make his own if he wanted coffee. “It must be a terrible thing, to care so much about what other people think,” she said calmly. “I’ve learned to let that go, since you have no control over it.”