Jordyn smiled casually at a few worried faces and continued through the market. It was odd for her to be without Oliver. She found herself reaching down, expecting him to be there, to feel his car seat in the basket in front of her. When you have a baby, everyone tells you about the obvious changes: the lack of sleep, the instincts that kick in, the hormone changes. No one ever told Jordyn about how she’d ache for her son; how her fingers would long to feel his soft skin; how her nose would beg to smell his baby scent. She reminded herself that it was good for Connor to spend some time alone with the baby. It was good for her too, she thought, to get away from it all for just a few moments.
A woman’s cry interrupted her thoughts. Jordyn’s gaze went to the door, where a large crowd had congregated. A woman was sobbing somewhere in the press of people. Jordyn abandoned her cart, pushing her way through the crowded store toward the sound of the woman’s cries. Finally, in the middle of the noisy crowd, she caught sight of the woman. Her brown hair was pulled into messy bun, her shaking hands resting on a bulletin board. Jordyn could only see her from behind, dozens of hands grasping her shoulders kindly in an attempt to console her. Jordyn pushed her way through, until she was standing just behind the woman who’d cried out. She didn’t know what made her so concerned, only that she felt like she should be there.
“What’s going on?” she asked through all the noise. The crowd instantly fell silent, all eyes on her. It was clear she was an outsider. Whispers rang out, each person turning to the person next to them worriedly. Jordyn felt her face grow hot.
A pretty blonde girl standing next to the crying woman scrunched her brow at Jordyn. “Who are you?”
Jordyn swallowed hard, wishing she could go back to her shopping and pretend this hadn’t happened. The crying woman turned around to face her. Jordyn was surprised to see how much younger she looked than she had initially expected. The woman’s eyes were bright red and bloodshot, her face pale and malnourished. She had wrinkles around her eyes that hadn’t come from age.
Finally, Jordyn spoke up. “I’m, hi, I’m Jordyn Atwood. Are…are you all right?”
The woman spoke softly through her tears. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”
Jordyn shook her head. “No. You don’t. I just heard you crying.”
No one said anything for a few moments, and then the lady let out another sob. Jordyn stepped back, unsure of what to say or do next. A gruff-looking man with a full beard pushed Jordyn aside, rushing toward the woman. “Not here, Carrie. We need to go.” He held her shoulders, ushering her out of the store quickly. The crowd began to disperse, yet the blonde stayed put, staring at Jordyn with obvious disdain.
“Quit gawking. Let the woman grieve,” she told Jordyn hatefully. “Show’s over.”
Jordyn finally looked away from the crying woman. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble. I just wondered what in the world happened?”
The woman pursed her lips. “Kinley made the list.” She sighed heavily, staring out the door as the couple climbed into a grey SUV. “Poor Carrie. She just lost Rebecca last year, now this. It’s more than anyone should have to bear.”
Jordyn stared at her. “Rebecca? Kinley?”
“Her daughters. Rebecca was the oldest. Carrie never got over it. Now she’s losing Kinley too. It just isn’t fair. I’ve known her most of my life. She’s a good woman. A good mother. And people like you,” she stared Jordyn down, “gawking at her while her life falls apart sure don’t help matters.”
“Are they sick?”
“Excuse me?”
“Her kids, I mean, are they, is it—” Jordyn couldn’t bear to finish the sentence.
“Sick? You mean like cancer or something? No.” She acted like that was a foreign concept. Lowering her voice, she added, “They made the list.”
“List?” Jordyn asked, sensing the ominous tone with which she spoke. “What list?”
“The list,” the woman emphasized, giving a look toward the cork bulletin board on the wall.
Jordyn followed her gaze, grazing over ads for lost pets and garage sales. She moved in closer, her eyes finally finding the small slip of paper she’d been pointed toward. It sat in the far left corner of the board. It was neatly pinned, no folded corners or creased edges. No one had hung anything over even a piece of it. It was typed in a neat font, size ten or eleven at most. Jordyn inched closer. There was no title, no words to explain its meaning. Instead, the page was numbered one through six. She read to herself: 1. Dakota Nettle 2. Kinley Preston 3. Alex Turner 4. Lindsey Cooke 5. Cara Hancock 6. Amber Hutson.
Her eyes lingered on the name Kinley for a second longer than the rest. Number two. The crying woman’s daughter was number two. “But what does this mean?” She turned to the spot where the woman had been standing and frowned. She had disappeared entirely, leaving Jordyn alone in the breezeway. Jordyn looked back at the list once again. What in the world did this mean?
***
Jordyn watched from the hallway as Connor laid their son into his crib, patting his belly. His dark red ringlets were growing so fast. He was already beginning to look so much like her. Ollie stirred for just a moment, but was back asleep quickly. Jordyn made a move toward him, but Connor turned, raising his hand. “It’s okay.” He motioned for her to keep quiet.
They crept quietly out of the room, shutting the door softly. She led him into the kitchen, where the bags of groceries sat. Connor grabbed a bag, taking it to the counter and unloading it. He kissed Jordyn’s cheek as he passed her. “How was he today?” she asked.
“Fine, sweetheart. I told you he’d be fine. He was a little fussy around lunch, but he’s been fine otherwise. How did you do without him?” he asked, putting groceries away as he talked.
Jordyn opened the fridge, unloading items into it. “I missed him so much. Gosh, it shouldn’t be possible to miss anyone this much. I don’t know if I’ll ever leave him again. I can’t imagine how I’ll ever deal with leaving him at daycare.”
“I’ve told you, you don’t have to work. You can stay home with him. I want you to stay home with him.”
“And I’ve told you,” Jordyn said, shutting the refrigerator door firmly and trying not to let her annoyance show right away, “that I don’t want to stay home and depend on you. Not that you couldn’t support us, babe. I know you can. You do. You just shouldn’t have to though. I know we have your parents’ life insurance, and that’s great, but once it runs out one salary is going to make it tough. I don’t want to put that on you. Besides that, I’d go stir crazy sitting around the house all day.”
“I know, I know. I just think Oliver would like it, having his mother home with him. My grandmother always—”
“I’m not your grandmother,” she said through slightly gritted teeth. She busied herself with another bag, trying to keep calm. She felt hands rub her shoulders, heard an apology. He kissed her neck, running his face through her hair.
“I don’t mean anything by it. You know that. I just want to contribute to this family.” Jordyn sighed.
He kissed her again, spinning her around so that he could see her face. “I know. It’s fine, really. I love you. Let’s not fight, okay?”
“Okay,” she whispered. Suddenly, the memory from the grocery store filled her mind. The crying woman. The list of names.
“What’s wrong?” Connor asked. He’d always been able to read her like a book.
“It’s just, something weird happened today. I don’t know what to make of it,” she said, unsure of how to explain it or if it was even worth explaining.
“Weird? What was it? Are you all right?” He rubbed her arms, staring at her with worry.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, her eyes still not meeting his. “It’s just…I don’t know. I was at the grocery store earlier and there was this lady. She was having a meltdown basically. Crying. Loudly. It was so strange, you know?” She looked at him finally, begging him to understand, not to try and fix the problem, just to listen.
“Was she hurt?”
“No. I mean, I don’t think so. Not physically. This other lady, I think she was with the crying woman, she told me that her daughter was dying. That her daughter was going to die.”
“What?” Connor looked appalled.
“I don’t know. She said the woman, Carrie, was going to lose her daughter. She said she would lose her just like she lost the other one.”
“That’s awful. It must be something genetic, right? Did you know either of the women?”
“No.” Jordyn met his eyes. “No, I didn’t, but they just both seemed so sad. She even said that her kids weren’t sick.”
“Whose kids?”
“The woman whose kids are dying. She said it’s not because they’re sick.”
“What do you mean? Of course they have to be sick. Children don’t just die, Jordyn. Maybe she meant they aren’t badly sick. Like, if it’s a disease, maybe it hasn’t hit the worst part yet.”
“I don’t know.” She bit her lip in thought.
Connor took her hands, squeezing them in his. “What’s really bothering you, Jor?”
“Well, it was just all weird, you know? And there was this list. It was kind of scary. I mean, if paper can be scary. Am I making any sense at all?” She sighed heavily.
“What do you mean a list? What sort of list?”
“A list of names.” Her eyes became haunted. “The woman said the little girl would die because she made the list.”
“What on earth are you talking about, sweetheart?” Connor pulled her into his arms, cradling her head. She felt cool tears run down her cheeks. “Why are you crying? What was this list for? What’s gotten you so upset?” His hands slid down to her back, rubbing her gently with his palms.
She was silent, unable to speak. Tears continued to fall, her body feeling stiff against her husband’s. “I really don’t know. I don’t even know how to explain it. I’m sorry. I’m just being ridiculous I guess. It shouldn’t have upset me this much. I’m sure I misunderstood anyway. It was like they really believed that she would die. Because of the list.”
Connor pulled back, looking at her with a small smile on his face. “What? Like some sort of hit list?”
“Yes. Yes. That’s insane, right? I mean, the way they looked at the list. All these people were gathered around, like they knew too. The way they all looked, like they’d seen a ghost or something. I wish you’d been there so you could understand. Their faces were so empty. I can’t get it out of my head.”
“Sweetheart, when’s the last time you slept?” He looked concerned, moving a piece of hair from her eyes. “You’re exhausted and it’s been a long day, okay? That’s all this is. People don’t just go around placing hit lists in grocery stores, right?” He spoke to her as if she were a child, as if she were fragile. Maybe she was fragile. “Police wouldn’t let that happen. You know that.”
“I know, I know. It’s just that, well, how do you explain it?” She begged him for an answer that would make sense, one to ease her mind.
“Did you ever think that maybe, if there was a list, maybe it was like a prayer list or something?”
Jordyn paused, sucking in a breath. “Well, no.”
“See? There you go. I’ll bet that’s what it was. There’s always an explanation, right? Don’t let things get you so upset. Everything’s fine.”
She frowned. Connor kissed the side of her head, stepping away. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” She smiled.
“Cheer up, babe,” he told her, grabbing another grocery bag.
“It’s just sad,” she admitted, staring at the floor.
“You don’t even know them.” He placed the milk into the fridge, nudging her out of the way gently.
“That doesn’t really matter.”
Connor stared at her in slight frustration. “You’re right. It is sad. It’s very sad, but do you know who isn’t sad? Your son. He’s sleeping peacefully in his room right now. And we both missed you very, very much today. And we’re glad you’re home.” He scooped her into his arms again, kissing her ear. “Let’s just forget about this, okay? Put the day behind us and be here with me.”
She agreed, giving in to his kiss, and trying desperately to erase the day from her mind.
***
Jordyn flipped on her television, careful not to disturb her sleeping husband. She quickly found the local news channel. A pretty young blonde spoke of the rising gas prices and the local mayor’s birthday. Jordyn laid her head back down, sighing heavily into her pillow, still half asleep. She needed to hear what the weather would look like today. She was hoping to take Ollie out for a walk, but it had been so chilly lately she wasn’t sure she’d be able to. The banner on the screen changed and its replacement had her sitting back up. She rubbed her eyes, testing what she was seeing.
Local Child Dies in Tragic Boating Accident.
Jordyn pressed the volume button rapidly, momentarily forgetting about her husband. She willed her ears to find the reporter’s voice.
“Local police were called to the scene at a local home last night where they found five-year-old Dakota Nettle dead on the scene. The five-year-old had apparently drowned in his pond hours before. Police remain unsure as to how the boy ended up in the water that ended his life. The child’s parents, Daryl and Chelsea Nettle, told police that he had been asleep in his bed before they went to sleep that night. There were no signs of a struggle or break in. At this time, the police do not suspect foul play. More on this story tonight.”
Beside her, Connor stirred, covering his eyes. Jordyn, brought back to her reality, tried to slow her heartbeat. Her mouth was dry, her stomach sore.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, yawning.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” Jordyn turned to face him.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” he assured her, sitting up in bed. Upon noticing her face and the awful look it must have carried, his brow furrowed. “Jor, what is it?”
Jordyn tried to smile, though she felt as if she may be sick. “A little boy died last night.”
“Sweetheart?”
“A little boy died last night. He drowned in his pond. He was only five.”
He draped his arm over her shoulders. “That’s sad, sweetheart. Poor kid. Who was he?”
“Dakota Nettles. He lives, lived, here in Bates.” Her words were short and choppy. She was afraid her fear would sneak out with her breath.
“Are you okay?” He looked confused.
“It’s nothing,” she lied.
He pulled her into him, kissing her forehead. “If there’s one thing I know about you, Jordyn Ann, it’s that it’s never nothing. I know that face, so you might as well go on and tell me. What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
She took a breath, leaning onto his shoulder. “It’s just that I recognize that boy’s name.”
“Did you know him?”
“No.” She shook her head.
“Then I’m confused,” he admitted.
“I didn’t know him. I just recognize his name. It was on the list. It was first on the list.”
“List?” he asked.
“The list I told you about the other night. At the grocery store.”
“When did we go to the grocery store?” he asked, his voice still groggy.
“Connor!” She groaned, a little too loud. “You have to remember. The list of names. I met two women at the grocery store and there was a list with names on it. You have to remember this!”
He put his hands up in surrender. “All right, okay. I remember,” he assured her.
“You really do?”
“Vaguely, yes.” He yawned again. “I still don’t understand what the big deal is with you and this list though. You’re too emotional about it.”
“I don’t know either,” she snapped. She didn’t. She couldn’t explain why she felt sick whenever she had first seen the list. Nor could she rationalize as to why she could still recite the
names in order. She could remember the woman’s haunting gaze as if she were still right in front of her. Connor’s worried gaze burned into her. Why couldn’t he just see that this should bother him too? “I’m sorry. I’m fine, honestly. I just, I mean, don’t you feel like this is all a bit strange?”
“Feel like what is strange?” He spoke softly, cradling her head. “That a little boy died? Of course I feel like that’s sad, but strange? Jor, things like this happen. We live in a sad world. I just feel like, and please know that I say this with all of the love in the world, I feel like you’re making this a bigger deal than it is.”
“But he was on the list!” she shouted exasperatedly.
Connor rubbed his chin the way he did whenever he was trying to hide his frustration and inhaled deeply. “Sweetheart, I’ve told you: this list that you saw was just that, a list. Probably a prayer list, hell, maybe a soccer team list or honor roll. Who knows? We aren’t from here, okay? We don’t know how they do things, but I can bet they don’t make lists to kill kids here. That’s just absurd, right? The fact that he was on this list, I’m sorry, but it was coincidence. Nothing else. It has to be.”
She was silent, wishing she could just accept that he was right and move on. “You’re probably right,” she told him anyway.
“I am right, Jor. I’m right. Don’t let this stress you out.”
“Okay.” She frowned, feeling like a child who’d been told their monsters weren’t real.
“Promise me you won’t worry about this anymore?”
“I promise,” she agreed.
“Good.” He kissed her lips. Like clockwork, she heard Ollie cry out.
“I’d better go check on him.” She tossed the covers aside quickly.
“No,” he told her, pulling the covers back over her. “I’ve got him. You just sleep. You need it.” With that, he left the room, shutting the door and leaving her in silence.
Chapter Three
James Clark
James Clark jumped up at the sound of his door bell ringing. He kissed his daughter’s forehead. “Sit still, Bug. It sounds like Aunt Robin is here early. I’ll be right back.”
The List (The Carolina Killer Files Book 2) Page 2