Wren Delacroix Series Box Set

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Wren Delacroix Series Box Set Page 56

by V. J. Chambers


  Lori had suggested Wren take them to the playground.

  Now, they were here, but the girls weren’t playing.

  Natalie gripped her teddy even tighter.

  “Do you want to go back home?” Wren said.

  Natalie turned to her sharply. “Can you take us there?”

  Wren’s mouth suddenly went dry, realizing her mistake. The girls still thought of their house in the woods as home. They missed it, and they missed their parents. No matter how dysfunctional their lives had been before, the girls didn’t know any differently. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You can’t go back there.”

  “I told you,” Jessica said, giving Natalie an annoyed look. “There wouldn’t be anyone there to take care of us.”

  “Maybe Wren could take care of us,” said Natalie.

  “Me?” Wren touched her chest. “Um, look, I’m not…”

  “Wren doesn’t want to live in the woods,” said Jessica, folding her arms over her chest. “She doesn’t want to live without electricity and running water and toilets.”

  Natalie scrunched up her face. “The showers are nice,” she conceded.

  “Exactly,” said Jessica.

  “I thought you liked Lori,” said Wren. “She’s nice, isn’t she?”

  Natalie nodded. “She’s nice.”

  “She’s really nice,” said Jessica. “You want to go on the swings?”

  “I can push you guys,” said Wren. “Or we can all swing. We can have a contest to see who can swing the highest.”

  “Lori’s nice, but she’s not Mom,” said Natalie. “I miss Mom.”

  Jessica looked down at her feet.

  “Of course you do,” said Wren. “You’ll always miss her.”

  “Always?” said Natalie.

  Wren nodded. “Always.” And then she wondered what the hell she was saying. She should say something that would cheer Natalie up. Natalie needed hope now, not the grim, sad truth. But she couldn’t think of anything to say.

  “Mom would be happy for us,” said Jessica in a quiet voice. “Remember how she always told us that she wasn’t going to let us be in the woods forever?”

  “But Dad said—”

  “But Mom was going to get us out of there,” said Jessica. “She’d be here with us if she could.”

  “She would,” Wren agreed, even though the girls’ mother, were she alive, would probably be in jail for murder. Police had searched the area around the pavilion, and they had identified the bones of four different men, all of whom had gone missing over the past fifteen years. Karen had participated. She wasn’t innocent. That, however, was something Wren didn’t feel the need to share with the girls. “She’d want you to enjoy all the things you can enjoy out here.”

  “Like swings,” said Jessica, holding out her hand to her sister. “Come on.”

  Natalie took a deep breath. “Well, okay. That contest sounds fun.” She smiled at Wren.

  “Let’s do it,” said Wren, grinning back.

  The three headed for the swings.

  As Wren pumped her legs at the sky, and the girls giggled next to her, she felt good, an expansive feeling somewhere in her chest. It brought tears to her eyes too, for some reason.

  She didn’t know why she was here, why she’d sought these girls out. But for some reason, she couldn’t stop thinking about them. She had thought that she only wanted to make sure the girls were okay, but she and Lori had already spoken about her visiting the girls on a semi-regular basis. She wanted to be part of these girls lives. She didn’t know why, but it felt right.

  * * *

  Reilly waved at Timmy, who was coming out of the building at school.

  When Timmy saw him, his eyes lit up and he took off at run for Reilly.

  Reilly grinned, and he had to admit he was really, really relieved. He and Janessa had not been sure this would work. Timmy was used to his mother picking him up from school. Reilly doing it instead could easily be disastrous, and he had steeled himself for picking Timmy up off the ground while the little boy had a screaming meltdown.

  Timmy arrived next to the car, a little out of breath, his eyes shining. “Thomas pulled into Knapford Yard to see his friend Percy waiting for him. Thomas and Percy were best friends.”

  Reilly’s eyes stung. “Hey, buddy. You’re my best friend too. Is it okay that I’m picking you up from school instead of your mom?”

  “Is it okay,” said Timmy. “Is it okay.”

  Reilly took this as assent. “You want to get in the car?”

  “Get in the car.” Timmy was bouncing up and down.

  Reilly opened the door and Timmy crawled inside. Reilly helped him buckle his seatbelt and then he went to the front of the car. “Well, we’re going to go home and we can play all weekend.”

  “We can play,” said Timmy. “We can play!”

  “Yeah, whatever you want,” said Reilly, glancing up at him in the rear view mirror. He started the car. “I got some more of those puzzles you like. We can put them together.”

  “Bust my buffers,” said Timmy.

  Reilly chuckled. “We can also put train tracks together, if you want.”

  “If you want,” said Timmy. “If I want.”

  Reilly’s eyebrows shot up. “What did you just say?”

  “What did you just say. What did you just say. What did I just say.”

  Reilly let out a disbelieving laugh. “You just said ‘I.’ You changed the pronoun, buddy. You did that all by yourself.”

  “All by yourself.”

  “Timmy did it all by himself.”

  “Timmy did it. Timmy did it.” Timmy was bouncing the back seat, looking pleased with himself.

  Reilly pulled the car out of the parking lot, and he was so full of hope for his little son, that he thought he might burst.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Wren took a deep breath, and then she picked up the phone in the visitor area at the prison. On the other side of the glass, Vivian Delacroix already had the phone to her ear. She was smiling like a satisfied cat. Wren half-expected to hear her purr through the receiver.

  “I’m so glad you changed your mind,” said Vivian. “I’ve wanted to reconnect with you for a long time. For too long.”

  “That’s not what this is,” Wren said, giving Vivian a level gaze. “We’re not reconnecting.”

  “No? Come on, Wren, it’s okay to admit that you’ve missed me. I’m your mother, after all, and I love you. I know that not having you in my life has been like living with a hole in my heart.”

  “Save it,” said Wren. “I’m not interested.”

  “I don’t see why you’d bother to come here if you didn’t want to talk to me.”

  “I want answers,” said Wren.

  “You have questions?”

  Wren looked away, placing her splayed fingers on the ledge in front of her. “No, I don’t have questions. That’s not it, actually. I have the answers. I’m only here because I want you to know that I know.”

  “That you know what?” said Vivian.

  Wren licked her lips. “I was about eight years old. Maybe seven. I can’t remember exactly. It’s funny that way, because I remember other things about it really vividly. I can remember almost everything you said, and what Dad said back—”

  “I don’t mean to interrupt,” said Vivian, “but that thing you said before about Adrian Campbell? You don’t really think he’s your father, do you?”

  Wren looked up at Vivian sharply. “What?”

  Vivian laughed, and she looked as though she was having a very good time. “If you want to know who your father really is, then—”

  “No,” Wren snapped. “We’re not playing that game.” But this did explain why she hadn’t been a bone marrow match for Emmaline Campbell, if it was true. She’d gotten the phone call a few days ago, and the doctor told her that they’d already notified Emmaline and her family. Wren had thought about calling them. She’d wanted to call. But she hadn’t. She hadn’t known wh
at to say.

  Now, she realized that it all could have been a smokescreen by Vivian. She’d tried to extort money from Adrian, but that didn’t mean he was really Wren’s biological father. Wren felt something inside her rip free again, and it hurt. Damn Vivian.

  “All I want from you is a relationship, Wren, sweetheart. Is that too much to ask?”

  “You don’t want a relationship with me,” said Wren, glaring at her. “You don’t give a flying fuck about me. This memory I have? I remember what you said. You and Dad were arguing, because he was leaving the compound to go and work during the day, and I was left in your care, and you were annoyed about having to look after me. It was summer time, and I wasn’t in school, and having me underfoot was making you crazy.”

  “Oh, any mother has felt that from time to time,” said Vivian. “I don’t know why you’re bringing this up.”

  “You said, ‘I can’t be bothered with looking out for the brat all the time. If you care so much, you quit your job and corral her.’”

  “Maybe I did,” said Vivian. “I was frazzled and overwhelmed. I was practically running the entire FCL at that point. David had retreated to his little mansion, and I had to deal with the day-to-day. I hardly had time for your knee scrapes.”

  “You said, ‘I don’t think I was meant to be a mother. I don’t think it’s in me. I told you this when I was pregnant. I wanted to get rid of it, but you convinced me that you would shoulder the parenting responsibilities.’ And Dad said, ‘She nearly broke her arm.’ Which is funny, because I don’t remember nearly breaking my arm. I don’t remember anything about that. I remember that I was supposed to be asleep, but that you two were talking too loudly, and so I heard everything. You said, ‘I wish she would have broken her neck. Then I’d have one less thing to worry about.’”

  “Oh, Lord, Wren, I didn’t mean that.”

  “See, I think you did,” Wren said. “You’re good at fooling most people, but you don’t fool me. I see you, just like I see other criminals. It’s why I’m so good at profiling. I understand. Sure, you’re right, most women get frustrated being a mother. They may have moments in which they wish they’d never had children. But they love their children more than they love themselves. And you don’t do that. You don’t love anything at all. Only yourself.”

  “You’re being melodramatic and—”

  “You’re good at pretending to be like other people, but you’re not like them.”

  “Wren, darling, I’m sorry that what I said hurt you. You should never have heard me say something like that. I swear, I didn’t mean it. I do love you. More than anything on earth. You’re my one and only daughter. You must believe—”

  “I don’t,” said Wren. “I know that you don’t love. You get interested in other people as a sort of mind experiment, a challenge to yourself to see how far you can dominate them, what you can push them to do. In your mind, the world in your chessboard, and everyone in it is just a piece for you to figure out how to move around. Your only amusement comes from subjugating others and the further you can push them, the better.”

  “You’re being horrible.” Vivian drew herself up. “I won’t tolerate being spoken to this way. I’m your mother.”

  “I used to think you used the acid to make people more susceptible,” said Wren. “But then I realized that didn’t make any sense. For one thing, you like a challenge. And for another, someone told me that acid makes you feel connected to every living thing, so that it’s harder to be violent on hallucinogens than it is normally. That’s when I realized you did it because you liked it when other people felt connected with you. I don’t think you felt connected with them, though. I don’t think even the effects of hallucinogens made you care. I think it only brought it into sharper relief the difference between yourself and other people. You saw how they connected to each other, and you realized you’d never feel that way. I think it made you feel more lonely.”

  “Wren, darling…” Vivian swallowed. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. Everyone was doing drugs back there. We thought it was spiritual.”

  “You are lonely, aren’t you?” said Wren, gazing deep into her mother’s eyes. “Always lonely. Because no matter what, you never find anyone like you. Only weak people, people who break easily when you try to manipulate them. There is no one else worthy of you.”

  “I’m lonely because I’m in prison,” said Vivian and now there was an edge to her voice. “Honestly, if you only came here to taunt me—”

  “So, what you decided to do was to use the LSD to try to make people more like you,” said Wren. “When they were tripping, they were open to you, connected to you, and you flooded them with your mind view—that murder was glorious and holy, and your nightmarish descriptions of the Crimson Ram. You tried to turn them into you.”

  “I have no idea what you’re going on about. If this is all you’re going to say to me, then I’m going to hang up and leave.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re bored. I’m more entertaining than anything in your cell, even if you’re annoyed by the fact you can’t manipulate me. Actually, that makes me more interesting. I’m a challenge.”

  Vivian pressed her lips together. She didn’t say anything.

  “You had some success,” said Wren. “Certainly, the fact that you got Garrett and Lexi and Karen and Terrence to kill, that was your triumph. You convinced them only with your words and with the god you created. But they weren’t really like you, because they had regrets. In the end, they had so much regret that they betrayed you and turned you in. You pushed and pushed and pushed. But the Walker Massacre ended up being a bridge too far. You got in over your head. Experiment failed.”

  “I…” Vivian sniffed. “I didn’t fail at anything.”

  Wren chuckled dryly. “Ooh, I should have known that would get under your skin. But you had another experiment, didn’t you? Two boys. See, usually, you wouldn’t give kids hallucinogens. I don’t know why. Maybe some shred of decency inside you? Maybe something else? But there was an exception, and that was Hawk and Major. You sent them out with the others, you fed them mushrooms and acid, and you got in their heads.”

  “Did I?” Vivian raised both of her eyebrows.

  “That experiment was successful,” said Wren. “Eventually successful, anyway. At the time, I think you thought it failed.”

  “I don’t know where you’re getting this.” Vivian shrugged.

  “Hawk told me that the Crimson Ram had plans for me, but that you wanted me to be safe, and that was why you got us paired together, so that he could protect me. But I thought about that, and the only way anyone knew about the Crimson Ram’s plans was through you, because you made them up. So, I was never in danger. You convinced Hawk that the Horned Lord wanted him to kill me. And then you pretended that you didn’t want that, because no mother really wants her daughter murdered. Except you did. I was an annoyance and you wanted me out of the way. If Hawk would kill me, it got rid of your aggravation and it also demonstrated your dominance over him. You were molding him to your own will, turning him into you, another version of you.”

  Vivian sat back in her chair, holding the phone to her ear. She coolly regarded Wren.

  “He didn’t kill me,” said Wren. “He protected me. But whatever you did to him, it got in his head, and he couldn’t stop hearing the Horned Lord telling him to kill me. So, he killed other girls. And when that didn’t shut up the voice, he tried to kill to protect me, but that didn’t work either. You were deep in there. You had wormed your way all the way inside him. Remade him from the inside out.”

  “Are you trying to blame me for someone else’s crimes?” murmured Vivian. “You always did have a crush on Hawk.”

  “No, I lay blame at his feet,” said Wren. “You may have whispered in his ear, but he did the deeds. There are no excuses for the things he did. That’s not what I’m doing here. I’m not excusing. I’m explaining.”

  “Does it make you feel better to explai
n his behavior?”

  “Sometimes.” Wren took a deep breath. “I understand that compulsive feeling he has, that need he has to kill me. See, I’m compulsive too. I have this need to figure you out, Vivian, and no matter what I unravel about you and about other killers like you, it’s never enough. You whispered in my ear too. I’m stronger than Hawk. I would never hurt little girls. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t royally fuck me up too. So, thanks for that, Mom.” She hung up the phone and blew a kiss at the glass.

  Vivian leaned forward, saying something, but Wren couldn’t make it out.

  She stood up and turned her back on Vivian.

  Slowly and deliberately, she walked away.

  * * *

  Thank you for reading!

  There are five books in the Wren Delacroix series. Each will resolve one mystery involving a serial killer but all will deal with bigger threads about the past, the present, the Fellowship of the Children of the Lord Cult, the Crimson Ram, and the characters’ personal lives.

  Click here for information about book four.

  By the way, I love to get reviews. I read each and every one.

 

 

 


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