“Fine,” she muttered. “I’m going.”
“Thank you,” he said. “Thank you so much.”
She didn’t respond. It was quiet except the slight sound of her breathing.
“Uh, how are you?” he said.
“I’ve been better,” she retorted.
“Sorry about that,” he said.
Another long stretch without talking.
“Okay,” she said. “I’m here. I guess you want me to turn the computer on?”
“Yeah, that would be helpful,” he said.
She sighed. “Okay, well, it’s coming on now.”
“You know, Charity, I never meant for things to go so badly between us. If I had known it was going to go like this, I would have done things differently.”
“Like how?” she said.
He wasn’t sure how to answer that question. He groped for words for several moments.
But then she spoke again. “The computer’s on. What do you want me to do with it?”
“Can you pull up her Documents folder?”
“Sure.” A pause. “Then what?”
“Then I need you to do a search for, um, Arnold Bell.”
“Do a search? What do you mean?”
“Up in the upper right hand corner, there should be a little search box,” he said. “Type ‘Arnold Bell’ into it and hit enter.”
“Who’s Arnold Bell?”
“You really want to know that?” he said.
She hesitated. “I guess not.” Another pause. “All right, it’s searching. There’s a little bar going across the top of the window, and—I’ve got results. One file.”
“Click on it,” he said. “Open it.”
“Okay,” she said.
“What’s in it? What’s it say?”
“It’s a list of names,” she said. “There are addresses too. Also categorizations, like ‘murder’ or ‘rape’ or ‘child abuse.’”
“Perfect,” said Nash. “I need you to email me that file.”
“I don’t understand,” said Charity. “What is this?”
“That’s Siobhan’s master list,” said Nash. “She researches possible targets and she adds them to her list. Then, when she’s ready, she goes through the list and picks the next one. She works ahead, right? She’s already got all her victims lined up already.”
“Oh,” said Charity in a tight voice. “Oh, God.”
“Sorry,” Nash muttered. He was excited. He forgot how upsetting this would probably be to Charity.
She didn’t say anything.
“You still have my email address, right?”
“You better give it to me again.”
He did.
She promised to email the file as soon as they hung up.
Nash turned and there was Zoe.
He yanked his robe closed.
Zoe raised her eyebrows. “Works ahead, huh?”
THE PAST
Ms. Jones didn’t seem the least bit happy about the idea that, as Siobhan’s Advisory teacher, she was the one who was supposed to get Siobhan’s makeup work together and send it home to her. She said she had too much to do as it was, and she would get to it when she got to it.
So, Nash volunteered to take care of the makeup work. Siobhan had been out of school for about three days. She was sick with something, or that was what Nash had heard. He had to admit that he didn’t get a chance to talk to her as often as he’d like. She was always busy in Advisory, doing homework. At one point, he’d actually worked up the courage to ask her to do something together. He hadn’t wanted it to sound exactly like a date, since he was afraid that would freak her out, so he’d asked if she wanted to meet up after school and get coffee at the little coffee shop in town. But she’d said she had to go straight home after school.
That was a week before she got sick like this.
Nash hadn’t bothered to ask her about anything again.
Anyway, he figured getting her work together was a good idea, because it meant he could go to her house and see her. Maybe not actually see her. Maybe she was too sick, and she’d be confined to her bed. But he’d see Siobhan’s mother, anyway, and she could tell Siobhan that he’d come by. Maybe it would count for something in the grand scheme of things. Even if it didn’t, he found that it made him happy doing nice things for her. He liked the idea of pleasing her. Pleasing her pleased him.
So, Nash went around to all of Siobhan’s teachers and gathered up all her work. He took stacks of worksheets and textbooks and headed over to her house after school that day.
When he got there, he noted that there was another car in the driveway, a big, black pick-up truck. Siobhan’s mother’s blue sedan was parked next to it.
He climbed the steps to the house and rang the doorbell.
He waited.
The door opened.
It was Siobhan. She didn’t look sick at all. “Classic Rock?” She came out on the porch and shut the door behind herself. “What are you doing here?”
“I, uh, I volunteered to bring your makeup work.”
She glanced down at the pile of textbooks. “Thanks, but I’ve already done all the work that’s due this week.”
“Even these worksheets?” He pointed.
She sighed and snatched the pile of books and papers away from him. “Okay, thanks. Now, you should—”
The door opened and a man with a thick neck and a crew cut looked out. “What’s going on out here?”
Siobhan started a little. She looked over her shoulder, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Um, nothing, Daddy. Someone from school brought my books so that I can work on my homework.”
The man, apparently Siobhan’s father, snorted. “That’s all that’s ever important to you and your mother. Books.”
“No,” said Siobhan. “I didn’t ask him to come. They just do that at the school when you miss a few days.”
Her father looked Nash over. “Why don’t you invite your little friend inside?”
“No,” said Siobhan, looking horrified. “No way. I don’t even know him.”
Nash took a step back, hurt. Why would she say she didn’t know him?
“He has to be somewhere anyway.” She shot him a meaningful look.
Whatever. The minute he figured this girl out would be the minute the universe exploded. He turned and pounded down the stairs. If she wanted him to go, then he would.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Zoe was in the kitchen, chasing three ibuprofens with a tall glass of water. She was wearing the clothes she’d been wearing the night before. “I feel like scrambled roadkill,” she said. “Who were you talking with on the phone?”
“Charity,” he said.
“So, what was that all about?” she said.
“I figured out how we’ll find Siobhan,” he said. “She made a list of all her potential victims—”
“Yeah, I heard that part,” said Zoe.
“Right,” said Nash. “So, we cross off the ones that she’s already hit and we look at the ones who are left. We’re bound to find a wedding announcement or something online.”
Zoe nodded. “Yeah, that’s good. That’ll work.”
He smiled.
She rubbed her temples. “I guess I’m not leaving then.”
“Cool,” he said. “I think I’ll go out and pick us up some breakfast takeout. That sound good to you? Then, after we eat, we can take a look at the file that Charity emailed me.”
“Yeah, that sounds great,” she said. “Something greasy.”
He laughed. “Definitely greasy.” He ducked into his bedroom to throw on some clothes.
When he came back out, Zoe was filling up another glass of water from the tap. She saw him. She turned off the faucet. “Listen, Nash?”
“Yeah?” he said. He was heading for the door, and he didn’t pause.
“About last night?”
Now, he paused, hand on the doorknob, but he didn’t look at her. “We were drunk. Let’s not rehash that.”
“Okay, good,” she said. “I don’t want you to think I’ve got some kind of crush on you or something. I was just wasted.”
“I don’t think that,” he said, turning to look at her.
“Good,” she said. “Because I don’t.”
* * *
“No,” said Zoe, “that’s my last one.”
“Are you serious?” said Nash.
The two were in his living room, remains of the breakfast he’d brought back from a local diner cluttering the coffee table. They were both on their laptops.
“She hasn’t announced a wedding to any of these guys, at least not online. Unless you found anything?”
“No, I told you, I checked all mine already. Nothing.” Nash groaned. “What should we do? Should we try and search again? Use different keywords?”
“What different keywords? If there was an announcement about a marriage online featuring one of these guys’ names, we would have found it. It’s not there.”
Nash got up from the couch. “Okay. Okay, well, we just have to think of something else then.”
“Sure,” said Zoe. “Maybe when we’re not incredibly hungover, something will shake loose.”
He went over to the window and looked out on the courtyard behind his apartment building. There was a scraggly tree and a swing set down there. “You think we should just stop for the rest of the day?”
“I don’t know,” said Zoe. “Maybe if we relax a little, check Facebook, answer some email, chill out—”
“Facebook.” He pointed at her. “That’s it. We look them all up on Facebook. Maybe one of them is in a relationship with Siobhan, or whatever she’s calling herself this time around.”
Zoe considered. “Yeah, that’s not a half bad idea.”
“You want to just use the same lists as last time, or you want to switch?”
“No point in switching,” said Zoe.
They went back to work.
They were quiet for a time, both typing and scrolling. Nash snatched up the last piece of bacon from his breakfast. It was cold, but still crisp and salty. He loved it.
“Got him,” said Zoe, sounding triumphant.
“What?” said Nash. “Who is it?” He sat down on the couch next to her.
“Edward Carston,” said Zoe, passing the computer to Nash. “In a relationship with Siva Reynolds.”
Nash clicked on the name Siva. A profile opened up, full of pictures of Siobhan. It was her, all right. “Oh, man,” he said. “She’s there. She’s right there.” He grinned at Zoe. “Nice work.”
She lifted her chin. “Thank you.”
“We’ll leave to go find her as soon as we can,” he said.
He and Zoe talked it out for a bit, but eventually, they settled back on separate couches and relaxed as Zoe had suggested before. But Nash couldn’t help clicking back to Siva’s profile over and over again.
He was finally going to see Siobhan.
He felt almost like a teenager again.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“So, I’m thinking we leave tonight and drive straight through to get there,” said Nash.
“Drive through the night?” said Zoe. “You don’t want to sleep?”
“It won’t take all night,” said Nash. “We should get there by midnight if we leave at six. I don’t want to waste another day. We pack today, leave tonight, find her, get the interview, and this whole podcast is done, done, done.”
Zoe chewed on her lip. “I’ve been thinking about all this, Nash. I wonder if we should turn her in?”
“What? To the police?”
“Yeah,” said Zoe. “She is a serial killer. When you solve crimes on the show, you always give your information and evidence to the local police, right?”
“I guess so,” said Nash. “But this is murky. I mean, which police would we go to?”
“Maybe the FBI?”
“They aren’t even looking for her. No one even knows that she’s committing these murders. Besides, once the podcast goes live, it’ll be like turning her in, anyway.”
“Okay, maybe,” said Zoe. “But by then, it may be too late for Edward Carston.”
“We care about him? That’s a thing? Because according to Siobhan’s list, he’s a child abuser and rapist, so I don’t see what there is about him to worry over.”
“He’s a human being, Nash,” said Zoe. “We can’t be the ones to make this judgment. We can turn them both over to the FBI, or the police, or whatever. Get him arrested. Get him justice. But if we allow her to kill him, we’ll be guilty too. His blood will be on our hands.”
Nash wasn’t sure he agreed with her. “I think if I turn her in, she’s going to be a lot less likely to allow me to interview her.”
“So, then, get the interview first. But I just… I think we need to really think about this. We have to turn her in.”
* * *
What Zoe was saying made sense. Nash wasn’t sure why he was resisting it.
Frankly, he was terrified that Siobhan wouldn’t agree to allow him to interview her. He was already trying to think of ways to convince her, telling her that he’d change all the names on the podcast, that he’d hide the fact that she was a successful Etsy entrepreneur, anything that would make her more likely to talk.
And if he was honest with himself, it wasn’t just because an interview with Siobhan would be a dynamite end to the podcast, but because he wanted to talk to her. He needed to talk to her.
When Nash had been in high school, he’d been such a failure with girls. Things had gotten better in college and still better after, but the truth was that he still wasn’t very good with women. Witness the fact that his girlfriend had left him. Witness the fact that the mother of his child had hidden his child’s existence from him.
Siobhan was the first woman to reject him. Maybe she could explain to him what it was he was doing wrong.
Of course, had Siobhan really rejected him?
He had a flash, her long blond hair threading through his fingers. It felt like silk.
In the end, had she rejected him or had he simply done something wrong? Something that upset her so badly that she…?
What?
He couldn’t think that he was responsible for the way that Siobhan had turned out. He didn’t make her a killer. She was manipulative before that. She was untouchable. She was…
He needed to see her.
So, he spent the day packing and getting ready to go. Maybe if he worked at it, he’d be packed up and they could get out of there even earlier, maybe before six. He was antsy to be on the move.
But at four o’clock, just as he was packing up the last of his sound equipment, his phone rang. He looked at the phone, and it was Tabitha calling.
His heart went into his throat. Was something wrong? Tabitha never called him out of the blue.
“Hello?” His voice was a little breathless.
“Hey, Nash,” said Tabitha. There was a little bit of forced cheeriness in her voice.
“Is everything all right?”
“Um… well, not exactly.”
His heart started to beat erratically. “What happened? Is Ariel okay? Is she hurt?”
“Oh, no, it’s nothing like that.” Tabitha laughed. “Ariel’s fine.”
Nash let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God.”
“I was calling because… Are you busy tonight?”
“Uh… I was planning to leave town tonight.”
“Do you have to?”
“Why?”
“It’s just that I have plans tonight, and my babysitter fell through, and I know that you’re always looking for more time to spend with Ariel, so I thought maybe you might want to watch her for me? Then I don’t have to cancel my plans?”
He bit down on his lip. Damn it. He wanted to get to Siobhan as fast as possible. But if he backed out on this opportunity to see Ariel, Tabitha wouldn’t offer it again. She wouldn’t take kindly to his putting his work above his daughter.
&nb
sp; And in the end, what was more important, finding Siobhan or seeing Ariel?
Obviously, Ariel was.
But damn it all to hell, it rankled to have to change his plans. But he didn’t allow that into his voice. “I’d love to watch her. Are you kidding me? That sounds perfect.”
“Oh, thank you so much. Now, I’m going to be out late, so I think it’s better if you come here and put her to sleep in her own bed instead of at your place. That cool?”
“Yeah, sure,” he said. But he realized he was going to need to turn that guest room of his into an actual room for Ariel. She needed to have a bed at his place as well as at her mother’s. He’d deal with that when he got back, though. “I am going out of town, though, after this. I’ll be gone for a while, but I’ll call every night.”
“Well, I’m sure Ariel will be glad to see you before you go.”
* * *
When he got back home after watching Ariel that night, Zoe was already asleep.
He went to bed, too.
In the morning, they got up and got ready. They packed up the car, and they headed out.
Nash watched the scenery go by in the morning light. He guessed it was nice to be driving now, instead of at night, since it was easier to see everything. Edward Carston lived up north in New England. He was from a wealthy family. Apparently, the family was so wealthy that he didn’t even have to work. He just flitted about being a wealthy playboy.
He wasn’t a killer, not according to Siobhan’s notes, but what she’d written down was frustratingly vague. Nash had spent some time looking for unsolved crimes to link this guy to, but he wasn’t finding much. He didn’t know how exactly Siobhan found these guys, he had to admit. But she had yet to be wrong, so he was sure that this Edward guy was a waste of air. One way or another, he deserved to die.
Man.
That was why he wasn’t comfortable with turning Siobhan in. He didn’t truly think what she was doing was wrong. Maybe he wouldn’t do it himself, not personally, but that was primarily because of a certain squeamishness on his part, not because of any moral concerns. He didn’t think it was wrong to kill men like the men Siobhan killed. In fact, he thought it was admirable in certain ways. Brave, even.
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