“Pine soap,” said Sarah in a flat voice. She bent at the waist, trying to quell the panic, nausea that was rising in her throat. Dan was back. A million thoughts flood through her mind; why was he back? What did he want? And why hadn’t he just approached her instead of playing games?
“Are you okay?” Molly’s voice was small and Sarah shook her head.
“No. I think I’ve seen him too. God, why now?”
Molly looked at her friend with sympathy. “Maybe he knows about Isaac? I just don’t know. What are you going to do?”
“For now, go home, call Isaac and have a discussion with him on what he tells me and what he doesn’t. Then, nothing. If Dan comes back, I’ll hear him out if he wants to explain himself but that’s as far it goes. I don’t want him in my life.”
Molly was quiet for a time then said softly. “What if Dan sees things differently? What if he wants you back?”
Sarah looked at her friend evenly. “I’m in love with Isaac. He is my future, Dan is my past. He lost the right to want me when he left without explanation. Molly, I’m going to say this once to you. Dan Bailey is not the guy I married – and I’m not sure he ever was.”
A mile from home still, she heard only the spatter of rain against the tree canopy, its beat rhythmic and soothing. Sarah had begun to regret the decision to walk home after her shift at the coffee house. The rain had permeated her clothes, her hair, and was now dripping unpleasantly down the back of her neck. The lichen of the forest floor was slippery, the spike moss that hung from the maples and Sitka spruces were drenched and heavy.
Since her conversation with Molly, her mind had been a whirlwind of emotion. Sadness, trepidation…fear. Why was she afraid? That’s what she didn’t get, why the hell she was so afraid of Dan coming back. It wasn’t that she doubted herself, her love for Isaac – it was the nagging feeling that Dan meant her harm. No suspects had been found in George’s murder and no motive. Sarah herself was the recipient of George’s will so if anyone was suspect – and she’d gone through hours of questioning despite Isaac giving her all the alibi she needed. She hadn’t wanted to know about the will and the lawyer had graciously acquiesced to her request to postpone the reading of George’s will. He had no other family and she didn’t want that finality of his death confirmed because of any money or land or whatever. She didn’t want his money and she would give anything just to have him back in her life.
The trail led through the old trailer park and Sarah kept to its well-worn path. The mobile home her mom used to own was over to the left side, a shell now, burned out, no longer anything to gawp at for curious eyes. Sarah looked at it as she always had – out of the corner of her eye. She reasoned that counted. She’d only been to it once; with George on his urging. You need closure. She’d needed a paper bag. The panic attack that followed scared even the unflappable George. He hadn’t encouraged any further excursions. Since his death though, she wanted to try, wanted to at least try, for him.
She gave the skeleton of the trailer a wide berth and sped up, eager to get home now. She scooted past the trailer belonging to the island’s shipwright, Buddy Harte, a sour-faced misanthrope who hated everyone – especially people of color. Sarah despised the old man and avoided him but they’d often come to words when Sarah had seen him abusing people in the town square.
She walked past then stopped, her heart thudding. She heard a man’s voice, singing, low and discordant. It wasn’t the singing which made her stomach twist, her breath freeze in her lungs. It was the song. The song her mother sang to her when she was attempting to kill her.
I got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart…
Her breath hitched, her skin aflame with a creeping horror, Sarah turned and stared into the dark window of the trailer. Something banged against the window and she skittered backward. Someone laughed. It was the same laugh she’d heard a few nights ago outside her house.
“Run, whore, while you can. Go spread your legs for the billionaire, you fucking slut.”
The horror was replaced by a wild anger, the blood roaring in her ears. She strode up to the door and banged on it.
“Get out here now. Now!”
“I got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart…”cos I’m a hooker like ma dear auld maaaaaaaa!” He was singing now, cackling to himself.
Red spots of rage in her eyes, Sarah yanked at the locked door, kicking at it wildly.
“You bastard!” She was screaming now, pummeling the trailer’s door, its walls. “Come out and face me, you asshole.” Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized a switch had been flipped in her. Sarah stopped, breathing heavily, calming herself.
“Buddy Harte…come out here and face me, you coward.”
Something heavy crashed against the inside of the trailer, making her jump.
Suddenly there was silence, stillness. All Sarah could hear was her own breathing. She heard him laugh softly to himself.
“Run, run, pretty baby girl, before I stick my knife in your belly. Before I gut you…go now!”
At his roar, Sarah skittered back and ran. She ran until she felt her lungs would explode, and then, as she stopped and bent double, dragging air into her lungs. She listened for a pursuer. Silence. Utter silence.
A swishing, a crackling of bracken underfoot. Something moving in the trees. With a shock, Sarah stopped, her eyes raking the tree line for movement. She felt every nerve in her body jangle, her limbs felt like formless, without strength. Whatever it was had stopped too, but she felt eyes on her, imagined she could hear breathing. She turned and started to walk again, her ears alert. She heard the sound again and swung around, catching the movement out of the corner of her eye. A flash of something, something that jarred against the woody colors of the forest. A figure in gray. Sarah started to run, trying to catch her breath as she sprinted towards home. Every second she expected hands grabbing her, pulling her down, a knife slicing into her skin. Almost home, she snagged her foot in a tree root and fell, slamming her ear hard against a rock, slicing into it. She could feel the blood pouring down the side of her neck as she pulled herself up.
She sobbed with relief as her home came into view. She’d skittered up the porch stairs before she realized her bag was gone. Casting panicked glances around her, she scrambled around to the back of the house, running her hands over the top of the back door. The key she kept there was gone. Sarah rammed her elbow repeatedly into the glass of the window, ignoring the searing pain. The glass shattered finally and, as she let herself in, she could feel blood dripping down her arm. She dragged the heavy oak table over and wedged the door shut, bracing herself back against it as she grabbed her cell phone and called Finn.
Finn arrived with Steve and a very worried Molly in tow. She let them in and, still trembling, offered them coffee. Finn made her sit down, his dark eyes concerned. Molly used around Sarah, cleaning up her ear and her elbow.
“Bubba, what happened?”
“Buddy…” She couldn’t breathe.
“Buddy did this?” Molly and Finn exchanged a worried look.
“No,” Sarah said, “I fell. Buddy… he screamed at me, he was insane. He was singing…” her voice trailed off as she met Finn’s gaze. “He was singing “Down in my Heart”.” She quickly told them the rest of the story.
“He threatened you?”
She nodded. “I know he doesn’t like me; he was Dan’s friend but he never liked me. But Steve, he’s never been aggressive or…I cannot believe what just happened.” She looked dazed. Finn turned to Steve, spoke in a soft undertone.
“Buddy’s a nut-job but I doubt he means what he says.”
Steve’s eyes narrowed. “Still, it’s technically assault, in the State’s eyes anyway…” He and Finn followed as Molly took Sarah back to the Varsity. Molly made Sarah sit on one of the couches.
“Don’t move. I’ll get you some ice for that ear.”
Steve sat down next to Sarah. “Sarah, do you want to press charges?”
<
br /> She shook her head. “No. No, I think…he was probably drunk and I may have riled him up.” She coughed, flushing. “I got pretty mad at him.” She looked at Finn, relaxed at his reassuring smile.
“I don’t blame you, kiddo. Why don’t you let Steve have a word with him, see what his problem was?”
Sarah looked at Steve. “Would you?” He smiled at her.
“Of course.” He nodded at Finn.
“I’ll stay with Sarah,” Molly interrupted, appearing from the back room holding a dishcloth filled with ice. She handed it to Sarah. “I just tried to call him.”
Finn patted Sarah gently on the shoulder. “Feel better, bubba. Don’t worry, we got this.”
Isaac Quinn looked up from his laptop when someone knocked on his office door. It was his private detective, Stan. Isaac motioned for him to sit.
“What have you got for me?”
The detective pulled out a bunch of photos from a folder.
“Stills from the restaurant’s CCTV, like you asked. They were surprisingly accommodating when I told them who they were for.”
Isaac studied the photos. In a few he saw himself and Sarah at their table; Sarah looked upset and he cursed himself for the way he had behaved that day. In the next photo, he was alone. It was the photo after that that gave him pause. A tall, blond haired male, talking to the waitress. Isaac’s jaw clenched. The photo was fuzzy but he could see who it was; without a doubt, he was looking at the very much alive face of Daniel Bailey. Son-of-a-bitch.
He looked up at Stan. “You get anything else on this joker? Is he following Sarah?”
Stan shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of, anyways. He is screwing some woman. She comes to the city twice a week and they hole up in a motel together. What do you want me to do?”
“Try and find out who the woman is if you can. Apart from that, as long as he’s no threat to Sarah, just keep an eye on him.”
After Stan had left, Isaac couldn’t concentrate on anything, just sat in his office, staring at the photo of Dan Bailey.
What do you want? Was all Isaac could think but he pushed the thought away because he already knew the answer. He already knew the reason Dan Bailey had returned to Seattle.
The woman you love…
“Here, let me.” Molly took the tube of antiseptic ointment from Sarah, smoothing some on her battered ear. Her touch was cool and soft and Sarah felt herself relaxing into it. She closed her eyes, her head throbbing with pain.
“All done here. I’ll get you some painkillers. Where…?”
“In the bathroom cabinet upstairs.” Her eyes still closed, she felt the swish of air as Molly passed her, heading for the stairs. She laid her head down onto the cool surface of the table. What the hell is that matter with me? She felt completely out of it.
Molly was back, she heard her fill a glass from the faucet. “Here.” Sarah sat up and took the glass and the pills from her, throwing them back quickly and draining the glass. She smiled wryly at her friend.
“Sorry, I’m not much company, am I?”
Molly looked contrite. “With what you’ve gone through lately, it’s not surprising. Just relax.”
Towering fatigue swept over Sarah and she put her head down on the table again, closing her eyes. She felt Molly’s hand stroke her hair, the smooth, soft rhythm lulling her already tired brain. She found sleep then, unexpectedly. Sweet oblivion.
A car door slamming shocked her awake. Molly was up then, heading toward the front door. She tried to gather herself – what was she thinking falling asleep like that? She heard them talking, hushed tones she couldn’t make out. She went over to the sink and cranked the faucet, splashing the cold water on her face.
“Bubba?”
She turned to see Steve, ahead of Molly and Finn, coming into the kitchen. His face was drawn, sickened. Her gaze slid to Finn, who looked equally shocked.
“Hey,” she hugged Finn, felt his arms tighten around her. “What happened with Buddy?”
Steve looked at Finn, who cleared his throat, and shifted from foot to foot.
“Sarah… Buddy’s dead.”
For a second it didn’t register then she let out a shaky breath. “I don’t…” She looked at Steve’s stricken face. Of course, she thought, of course. She turned back to Finn, her voice stronger now. “Did he have an accident? Did he kill himself?”
There was silence then Finn spoke, his voice harder than she’d heard it before. “No.”
She looked between all three of her friends. “I don’t understand.”
“He was murdered, Sarah. Buddy was stabbed to death.”
She felt her knees give way and sat down hard. “Oh my God… but… it couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes…” She looked at Finn, a horrific idea flooding into the front of her mind. “Finn, you don’t think I did it, do you? I swear he was alive when I ran away. I promise I’ll do whatever you need, DNA evidence, lie-detector…” Her voice, rising, was on the edge of panic and both Finn and Molly reached for her. Finn sat next to her, took her hands in his, Molly sat on the edge of the table, his hand on the back of her neck. Steve’s face softened.
Finn hugged her tightly. “Sarah, as police officers, we have to suspect everyone, and I would appreciate if you would come in to answer some questions but at the moment, there is nothing to worry about. We’re just trying to establish what happened. The thing is… your encounter with Buddy this afternoon…. um… well, we’re having trouble…” He looked at Steve, suddenly awkward.
Steve squeezed Sarah’s hand. “Sweet girl, we think you may be confused about what exactly happened.”
There was a silence while Sarah digested this. She felt the hot flame of embarrassment redden her face but she shook her head.
“No…no, what I told you is what happened. I don’t understand. Why do you think I’m lying?”
“Not lying, honey, confused.” This was Finn. He kneaded her shoulders. She pulled away and stood.
“I’m not confused. I know what happened, I was there. Why are you saying this?”
She looked between Steve, Molly and Finn, seeing their concern, feeling their pity. Humiliation washed over her. Steve looked at Finn, who nodded. Steve cleared his throat.
“Sarah, it couldn’t have happened the way you said it did. Honey, Buddy’s been dead for at least three days.”
Isaac was about to leave the office when Saul stopped him. His brother wore a serious expression as he motioned for Isaac to sit down.
“Isaac, we need to talk. Look, I really like Sarah and, god knows, I owe you but I’m beginning to struggle with the workload – bud, you’ve been letting things slide for a while now. I’m working all hours to catch up but – “
“God, Saul, I’m so sorry.” Horrified, Isaac realized that he’d been so wrapped up in Sarah, he hadn’t even noticed that his brother looked exhausted. The weight of guilt pressed down on him.
“I’m sorry, I am. Look, it all changes now, I’m here, I’m present.”
For the next hour they talked business then Isaac sent his brother home to Maika and the kids. Jesus, how had his life turned into this?
He looked through a stack of notes that his assistant had given him. Invitations to social events. Maybe it would Sarah’s mind off things to go and schmooze with Seattle’s A-list. He smiled to himself. She would be the most beautiful woman in the room. He allowed himself to feel pride at that; the most beautiful woman in the world, at least to him, loved him.
He realized his cell phone was switched off and quickly fired it up.
Seventeen voicemails. The first one made his chest clench. Sarah’s voice, hard, angry.
Isaac. Call me back.
We need to talk.
Sarah felt drained. After Finn and Steve had left, Molly had stayed a little while longer but she’d desperately wanted to be alone: she needed time, time to process what they had told her, the implications and the insinuation in their voices.
She went upstairs and
laid on her bed, pulling her knees up to her chest, plumping the pillow underneath her head to get comfortable.
“Okay,” she said out loud, “let’s go through this.” In her head, she recalled every part of the incident, the trailer park, the singing, the threats, the way he’d hissed at her. Had she imagined it? She tried to step back and look at it dispassionately but eventually shook her head. I know what I saw, what I heard. If it wasn’t Buddy threatening her, then it had been someone else. The person who had been stalking her. You know who it is… The thought made her stomach roil. In the distance, she could hear the discordant song of police sirens, a sound that made her mouth go dry, her heartbeat quicken. Mommy’s screams. Go spread your legs for the deputy, you fucking slut. I got the joy, joy, joy, joy, joy, down in my heart…
Sarah pulled the pillow over her head and began to sob so much so that when the front door bell rang, she didn’t hear it at first. When finally the sound got through to her, she stumbled down the stairs and yanked the door open. Finn was there, his face wan.
“Sweetheart, I need you to come found to the station. We need you to answer some questions.”
Isaac almost groaned when the first person he saw as he drew up to the coffee house was Caroline Jewell. She was standing outside, smoking, and when she saw him she pushed away from the wall and came over to him. Isaac didn’t greet her or smile; he had no time for this wretch of a human. Her smile was unpleasant, mocking as she walked toward him. He sighed and turned to leave.
“I just saw your girlfriend.”
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