Fixing Perfect

by Therese M. Travis

  Robin shuddered at the thought.

  He went on. “Do you ever wonder why he did that? Black hair, blue eyes. The crutches.” His hand snaked out to stroke her head. “And he had a thing for you.”

  “Does he?” If only that were true.

  “You never saw him watching you. I did.”

  “I think you’re wrong.” Robin turned away. “We’re friends. That’s all. We’re still friends. I don’t care what everyone else thinks of him. He’s innocent. He would never hurt anyone like that.”

  “Oh, Robin.” He shook his head. “Look, if you’d like, I’ll try to—I don’t know. Try to find some proof for you. OK? Would that help?”

  “What kind of proof?” she asked, her chin up. “To give the police more reason to blame him?”

  “No, no, I didn’t mean that at all. No. I meant—you know, to see if we could figure out who really did it.”

  She nodded, unable to say a word. She needed help as much as she needed protection. Stronger than iron walls, she needed God.

  And with God’s help, she would expose the monster someone carried around inside him. She had to focus on setting herself out as bait, not on his aberrations. At what risk, she didn’t know. Didn’t care. She just had to get him to stop.

  How? That was the hard part.

  Had she really given this enough thought? Probably not. But she was here, and she needed help, and Donovan was the only person she could count on.

  “The thing is, now that Sam’s—well, gone, I need a runner for the games.”

  “Are you asking me to step in?”

  “Well.” She looked at him from under her lashes. “You offered a while back, but since I already had Sam I didn’t think I needed another runner.”

  “But things have changed.” Something glinted in his eyes. Now they looked grayer than ice.

  “Yeah, things have changed.”

  “OK. I’m good with that.” He shrugged. “I heard Danny canceled the last two games. Are you guys meeting on Saturday?”

  “I think so. I’ll let you know.” Now her heart pounded. She had, at least, a place to start.

  “Sounds good.” He hesitated. “Look, Robin, if it’s not Sam—and believe me, I’m willing to believe it isn’t—who do you think it is? Has Sam got any ideas?”

  “Not really and neither do I.” At least, not any she was willing to tell Donovan about. He could probably play the caveman as easily as Sam.

  “OK. Fair enough.” He scratched his head. “Look, I’ve got a few suspicions of my own.” And when she opened her mouth to demand he tell her, he held up his hand. “No. I’m going to check a few things out first. See what I can turn up, you know?”

  She hadn’t even told him the worst of her plans, and he was taking over. But she struggled to repress her reservations. After all, the more people trying to get Sam out of jail, and out of trouble, the better. She nodded. “OK. Call me when you figure anything out.” She didn’t make it a request.

  “Got it.” He smiled, and turned as a new group of customers came inside. “Hi,” he called. “Welcome. If you need anything, let me know.”

  Robin slid off the stool. “Thanks, Donovan. See you later.”

  He nodded and she made her way to her cart.

  This had to be a lot safer than asking the killer to come get her. It might take longer, but Sam was safe, even if he wasn’t happy. With Donovan’s help, she’d manage all her dreams, alive.

  12

  But first, she opened her cell and dialed Macias’s private number. “You told me if I thought of anything else to call you.”

  “Right. What have you got for me?”

  “I had an idea about how to draw this guy out.”

  “Draw him out? I’m not sure I understand what you’re getting at.”

  “He wants me, right?”

  “Oh, no.” At least she’d gotten the man’s attention. “Ms. Ingram—”

  “Detective Macias, please. Just hear me out. Sam isn’t the killer. I know that, even if you refuse to admit it. You asked for my help? Well, I’m going to give it to you. Because obviously the killer is after me, in some twisted, sick way. And I—”

  “And you are going to do nothing.” From the sound of his voice, Robin thought he’d stood up, maybe was pacing. “You’re not going to put yourself in danger. We’re looking for evidence on Albrecht. We don’t find it, you’ll get your boyfriend back. But you are not going to put yourself in danger. If I think you are, I’ll have you in custody, as well, for your own safety.”

  Robin closed her phone and dragged herself back to her cart. Dumb move, she had to admit. Although, maybe she’d gotten the reaction she wanted. Maybe she had really been asking, should I, and Macias had answered, absolutely not.

  And so she’d let herself be forced to promise she’d do nothing stupid, nothing dangerous.

  What else could she do for Sam? Pray—but she’d been praying all along, and things just seemed to get worse.

  The police were looking for evidence to convict Sam.

  It wasn’t out there. Evidence against someone else—sure. And after what she’d heard about the last murders, how the bodies had been posed on the beach, it had to be someone who had been watching her and Sam that day.

  Who else besides Donovan had seen them on the beach? Her shoulders slumped. How could she know? Donovan was the only one who had come up to talk to them, but that didn’t mean he alone had seen them. The beach was public, and neither she nor Sam had paid any attention to anyone else that magical afternoon.

  If only she’d looked around…

  

  Someday, she’d look at him with that same expression she kept for Sam. Someday, he’d be her hero.

  Maybe he ought to use Sam. Dye his own hair and paint himself up to look like him. That would be a laugh. He was giggling already, thinking it out.

  Might make it a little harder to get away with it, but hey, he was good.

  He shook his head. Hard. Banged his fist on his temple. Because the whole point was to show them what a genius he was. He didn’t want to fall back into obscurity. He wanted them to see—see him, see his vision.

  If he had to use Sam, he would, but it was all about him and Robin. Always had been. And that’s how it would end up.

  

  She ran the cart against the curb and made herself stop her headlong rush to—what? Where was she going? She couldn’t even remember now. She stared at the bistro in front of her, at the clear windows that reflected the bay behind her, at the figure of the man who stopped behind her.

  She spun around.

  “Robin, are you OK? You look—” Donovan smiled, peered closer and stepped forward, his hand out to help her from the cart. “Grace came back and took over so I could come make sure you were all right. You really looked like—I don’t know—but bad. Come on. Let’s get you some tea or something.” He jerked his head at the restaurant behind him.

  Robin nodded and scooted off the seat. Without the buzz of the cart’s wheels whirring, she caught the sound of the wind, the waves booming on the shore. The sound of normal for the town.

  She gripped her crutches and shuffled past Donovan’s hand.

  He held a chair, asked her what she wanted, and went to the counter to put in the order. When he came back a few minutes later with steaming Styrofoam cups, she’d steeled herself beyond the blank stare of shock and took her drink with a smile.

  “Thanks. Don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

  He sat, frowning. “Stress, maybe? I mean, you’re under a lot. Your boyfriend just got arrested. It’s no wonder you’re numb.”

  He certainly understood how she felt. She swallowed, unable to answer.

  “I talked to Detective Macias.” Donovan shifted his chair, took a drink of his own tea, and pushed a plastic plate loaded with Danish across to her.

  Robin cleared her throat. “Right. He told me.” She looked up.

  Donovan angled his chair so the sun through
the windows hit him full in the face, as though the pale November light could bring warmth or color to his skin. “OK, so you know I’m doing whatever I can to clear him. It’s up to us, isn’t it, you and me? No one else seems interested. Although I gave the detective some info that interested him.”

  Robin set her cup on the table. “What info?”

  “I shouldn’t tell you, but—” he grinned. “About Danny Salvator.”

  “Coach Danny?” Now she straightened, fully engaged. “What on earth could you tell them about the coach?”

  “Lots of things. I watch people, Robin. You know how I do. And I see things other people miss.” He filled his voice with dark significance, nodding. If he could tell her something she should know—if he could help her help Sam—she had to stay with him. She had to save Sam.

  When he remained silent, she moved her hands impatiently. “Tell me.”

  He slanted her a glance from his ice-colored eyes, toying with her this time, and shook his head. “I can’t really, you know.” He motioned with his hand, indicating security and secrecy, which irritated her.

  She looked away from him, thinking. “When did you tell them this? I mean, tell them whatever it is you’ve got against Danny?”

  “Last night.”

  So Detective Macias had suspected Danny before Donovan talked to him. Did that mean the kids from the team were in danger? Kerry? She couldn’t lose Kerry.

  Donovan reached across the table and patted her hand. “Don’t worry. And I think Macias is going to insist Danny cancel the games. He’ll make it sound like it’s to give the killer less of a chance to get at those kids.”

  Robin stared at her clenched fists. Coach Danny? But he prayed before and after every game. At one time, he’d trained for the ministry.

  And Christians were tempted all the time, and sometimes they fell.

  She had to see Kerry, at least, and make sure he was protected.

  

  He imagined holding her. Sam got to do it all the time, and he didn’t seem to treasure the gift like he ought. Someone ought to teach him a lesson, but as the guy was in jail, he wasn’t especially worried about his attitude toward Robin.

  She was so beautiful, so fragile. A bird with broken wings. That’s what she was. God was all about healing, and He’d picked the right man to work on Robin. He’d get her fixed up in no time. Do everything God would have done if He’d had the time.

  He laughed, low in his throat, and went back to the image of him holding her. The same vision—he’d hold her, she’d hold the baby, the two kids would be there, obedient at last, and everything would be perfect.

  

  What was Macias doing with Sam? Imprisoning him so he could feel like he was doing something productive? Trying to prove to the island that they were safe? But they weren’t. Blame Sam, feel safe, stop being so watchful. Now she had to suspect another man she knew, one she trusted. One she would have trusted with the lives of the most precious of those she loved until Donovan got to her and destroyed her faith.

  Well, not Kerry. She wouldn’t let anyone get to him. That one, she had to protect.

  She found Kerry at home with his mother.

  Mrs. Wright let Robin in and led her to the living room. “He’s been crying ever since Danny called with the news. He swears Sam couldn’t have done anything bad to anyone.”

  “I agree with him.” Robin sat down on the couch, pushing herself back into its softness. Someone would have to haul her out, but she’d worry about that later.

  While she waited for Mrs. Wright to bring Kerry from his room, she looked around. It was a sweetly decorated room, full of flowers and lace, but not overwhelmingly so. Robin hadn’t gotten much of a chance to see it before, filled as it had been with people. Now, she wondered about Kerry’s space. Did his mother let him cover the walls with pictures of the team? Had Kerry hung any of the pictures that Donovan took on his walls? Of course, he’d have pictures of his beloved coach on the wall. She shivered.

  Someone else was responsible for the terror the island was experiencing. It wasn’t Sam, and she couldn’t make herself believe it was Danny. It was…someone else. And no one was safe.

  She’d have to spend a lot of time reminding herself of that.

  “Robin!” Kerry stumbled into the room. His light brown hair stood up in rumpled misery, and his face twisted with agony. He threw himself onto the couch next to her. Robin stroked his hair, murmuring nonsense.

  After a few minutes, he straightened and grabbed her hand. “They said Sam did all those bad things.” His voice was full of conviction and fear.

  “They said that, yeah.” And it had broken her heart as badly as it had Kerry’s.

  “How could he do that?” He sat up and grabbed her blouse. Fresh tears poured down his face.

  Robin wiped at his cheek with one hand and cupped his face. “He didn’t. Kerry, you know Sam. He’s a good man. He wouldn’t do something like that.”

  “They why doesn’t he tell them?”

  “I’m sure he has.” She looked over his shoulder at Kerry’s mother.

  Mrs. Wright shook her head. “He’s been like this since we heard.”

  “I can understand. I’ve felt the same way.” Robin closed her eyes. Please God, help me to make this right. Kerry doesn’t need this, and I don’t, and for sure, Sam doesn’t. But someone does.

  “You were on TV.” Kerry’s eyes narrowed now in accusation. “I heard you, Robin. You said you thought he did it.”

  “No, I didn’t. I was very careful not to say that, because it’s not true. But I wanted to fool some people.”

  “Who? You fooled me, Robin. Why’d you want to fool me?” Why did she have to break his heart to heal him? It wasn’t fair.

  “Not you, Kerry.” She gave his shoulder a tiny shake just to make him realize how much she meant it. “I wanted to fool the killer.”

  “You know who the killer is? Who’s the killer, Robin?”

  Robin sighed. “I don’t know. That’s the problem. If I did, you better believe I’d tell the police.” And she couldn’t tell Kerry anything. Warn him away from Danny? It would send him right to the coach, protesting, begging for reassurance. And that would put him in danger. Keeping him in the dark was just as bad, but she couldn’t help that. She had to risk it. Until she had the killer in a corner and he had no other way to get out than through her. “I have to ask you some questions.”

  “OK.” Kerry looked at his mother. “She has to ask me some questions, and she doesn’t believe Sam did anything bad.”

  “I’m glad she doesn’t.” Mrs. Wright smiled, though her eyes gleamed with moisture.

  “Kerry, look at me.” When he did, his brown eyes full of angry tears, Robin went on. “I need you to tell me all over again about the day Donovan saved you.”

  “Oh, you want to know about the bad guy.” He nodded. “Yeah. He was a real bad guy. He snuck up behind me, and he would’ve grabbed me if Donovan hadn’t come and saved me. He would’ve killed me like all the other people.” His eyes grew wide, and tension tightened his face muscles.

  “Did he grab you?”

  Kerry bounced like an exclamation point to his words. “No. Donovan did, to save me.”

  Robin shook her head. “But the bad guy didn’t touch you?”

  “Nope. Donovan didn’t give him a chance. Wasn’t that good? He saved me, Robin. He didn’t let the bad guy grab me.”

  “OK.” Robin swallowed. “So what did the bad guy look like?”

  Kerry shrugged, his arms flailing with the effort. “I dunno. He ran away. He ran when Donovan yelled at him. I didn’t even know he was there, Robin. If Donovan didn’t come, he’d’ve got me.”

  Mrs. Wright stood and came to the couch. “I’m sorry Kerry can’t help you. But Donovan saw him, you know. He gave the police a description. You can see it on the police blotter website.” Her stance told Robin she wanted her to stop pestering Kerry with questions.

  “I’ve se
en it.” And it looked a little too much like Sam for Robin’s taste. She frowned. “When it first happened, the police said you saw him.”

  “No, I didn’t. Donovan thought I did. He kept saying I did, even though I said no. But that’s OK, Robin. He was scared, too. Just like me. I was real scared.”

  “I was pretty scared, too, and by the time I heard about it, I already knew you were safe.” She gripped his hands in hers. And now she didn’t know that he would remain safe, and that tore her apart.

  “Yeah. ‘Cuz Donovan saved me.”

  If it had been Coach Danny, Donovan would have recognized him right away. He’d have told the police, wouldn’t he? Unless he thought he needed to protect him.

  Her hands shook with the strain of trying to figure things out.

  Robin made herself nod. “Listen, Kerry, you have to be really careful. I mean it. The police keep saying everyone is safe now since Sam is in jail. But you know that’s not right, don’t you?”

  Kerry’s jaw dropped, and his words were a near howl. “We’re not safe?”

  “No, we’re not. We’re not safe at all. Remember, Sam didn’t do anything bad. That means the bad guy isn’t in jail and that the police don’t care.” Oh, they didn’t, not at all. Robin wanted to scream with the anger and frustration of it all.

  “So what do we do?” Kerry, eyes wide and terrified now, looked from her to his mother. “Mom, what do we do? I don’t wanna get grabbed. I don’t wanna get killed!”

  “You have to keep yourself safe.” Robin glanced at Mrs. Wright before concentrating on Kerry. He was the one she had to convince. “You have to stay with your mom and dad all the time, Kerry. All the time. Don’t go away with anybody. You hear me? Not even me. Just because you think you can trust someone doesn’t mean they’re good, OK?”

  “OK.” Kerry nodded. “I get it. Nowhere but with my mom or dad. What about Sam?”

  “Sam’s not here, Kerry. They aren’t going to let him out until they know for sure he didn’t do anything bad, and they won’t know it unless they catch the bad guy doing something wrong. And I don’t want it to be you that the bad guy hurts.”