She heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs behind her and for a moment hoped that her prayers had been answered and the police had arrived. She turned around and was surprised to see not a cop and not Henry, who would’ve been her next guess. Instead, a short, balding man stood in the doorway. In his hand, he held a small, black bag. Jordyn stood, blocking Lauren’s body defensively.
He held his hands up. “It’s okay. I’m a doctor. I live a few houses down. My wife’s already called for an ambulance. The cops should be here soon. I may be able to help in the meantime. Could I look at her?”
Jordyn nodded. “Thank you.”
The doctor approached the bed, pulling the comforter back and peeling Lauren’s blood-soaked shirt off. He sighed. “The bullets went straight through.” He looked at Jordyn briefly. “That’s good.”
“Is she?” She couldn’t bear to spit out the word.
“She’s not dead, no.” He shook his head, opening his bag with one hand. He produced a stethoscope, placing it on her bare chest. “But she’s barely hanging on. With the placement of the bullets, I’d say she’s probably bleeding straight into her stomach, possibly her lungs. She doesn’t have long.”
As if on cue, blood began to pool out of Lauren’s mouth, thick and dark. It trickled up into her hair, staining it crimson. “Oh, God,” Jordyn said, her knees beginning to buckle.
“You can leave if you want,” the doctor said sadly. “It only gets worse from here.”
“No. No, I’m staying.” Her body shook as she spoke, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave.
“Good.” He nodded. “Then you should know that there is blood in her lungs.” He pulled the stethoscope out of his ears. “I need to make an artificial airway. I need you to keep her still.”
“She’s unconscious, right?”
“Severe pain can sometimes bring them back. And this is going to hurt,” he said stiffly.
Jordyn nodded, stepping up to the bed once more. She took the comforter from the doctor and placed it back on the floor, placing her body over Lauren’s. “Hold on, baby girl,” she whispered.
The doctor dug through his bag, pulling out a long, thin needle.
“What are you going to do with that?” she asked.
“Look away,” he instructed, pressing his fingers into Lauren’s collarbone.
She did as instructed. She heard a thud, and Lauren’s body shook underneath her and then she heard sputtering. She let out a scared whimper, unaware of whether she was watching the girl die in front of her. Finally, Lauren’s chest heaved and she sucked in a shallow breath.
“She’s alive?” she heard Henry ask from behind them, relief washing over her. She hadn’t realized Henry was back upstairs, but she was glad he could see her breathing.
A short, skinny woman stood next to him, her dark hair tossed up into a clip.
“Lorelai,” the doctor said, pushing his glasses up onto his nose with his shoulder, “I asked you to keep him downstairs.”
The woman looked troubled. “I tried. He needed to be here with her. There was no stopping him.”
“Is she alive?” Henry asked again.
The doctor stood up, wiping his bloody hands on his shirt. “She’s alive, for now, Henry. But she’s going to need surgery. She’s lost a lot of blood. I don’t know if you’re a match, but if so you’ll need to stay close. If that ambulance isn’t here soon, though—”
Like clockwork, Kate ran into the room. “They’re here. The ambulance is here.”
They heard the front door open and a parade of EMTs ran into the room. They carried a long, silver stretcher. Jordyn climbed off of Lauren, allowing them to hoist her off of the bed. She walked to the door, collecting Henry in a hug. Her hands were covered in thick, sticky blood, but it was the least of her concerns. As they carried Lauren down the stairs, Henry followed them closely, climbing into the back of the ambulance as soon as he was able. He left the door standing wide open, nothing on his mind but her.
The doctor, his wife, Jordyn, and Kate stayed behind. Once the ambulance had pulled away, Jordyn turned to the man. “Thank you.” She smiled at him. “For helping her.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know that I did any good.”
“You did,” Jordyn assured him. “Even if you didn’t, you did.”
“Should we clean this place up for him a bit?” his wife, Lorelai, asked, glancing around the bedroom. “Henry shouldn’t have to come home to this, especially if she doesn’t pull through.”
Jordyn started to agree, but the doctor cut her off. “No,” he said firmly, “The police will want it left alone. We can clean it up after, but we shouldn’t touch anything else until they arrive.” He sighed, mumbling under his breath. “Not that it’ll do much good regardless.”
They all nodded in agreement, and Jordyn saw her chance. “Something has to be done about that,” she coaxed.
The doctor shook his head, wiping his brow with his arm. “Good luck with that.”
“I’m serious,” she said. “We all know the police will do no good. They don’t investigate these deaths at all. You can’t honestly tell me that you believe every death here is an accident.”
“We don’t,” his wife said, speaking up. “Rick and I haven’t believed that in a long time. Honestly, I don’t know anyone who truly does anymore. Not since The List started coming out.”
“Why don’t you say anything then? Do anything?”
The doctor stared at her. “What could we do? What do you suggest? For the past few years, a few of my colleagues—friends, good people—we’ve been investigating on our own. Trying to find answers. But the truth is, I’m afraid, the answers aren’t there to be found. No crime is ever the same. Random victims. And with the lack of actual investigation done by our police, hell, they don’t even fingerprint anymore.”
“We have a group too,” Jordyn told him, his eyes lit up in surprise. “Women, who’ve lost children. We all want this to stop.”
“Everyone wants this to stop, my dear, but it won’t. Whoever they are, whatever they are, they’re too good.” He paused at the top of the stairs, looking back to her. “Listen, by the way, you shouldn’t go around telling people what you’ve told me. It isn’t safe. You never know who you’re talking to.”
“I’m talking to you. I’m telling you. We want to be the ones to end it. Your group could help. Strength in numbers, right?” Jordyn begged.
He walked down the stairs, the others following him into the kitchen. He flipped on the light with his elbow and turned on the sink. “How exactly do you plan to end it?”
“Have you ever investigated Cecilia Benson?” Jordyn asked, stepping up to wash her own hands once he was finished. The blood swirled down the drain quickly, spinning in circles as it disappeared.
Lorelai spoke up. “Cecilia didn’t do it. Not then. Not now. Neither did Brian Kautz, if you were going to ask about him next.”
“Brian Kautz?” Jordyn asked, drying her hands.
“The other man the police investigated. His alibi checked out, just like Cici’s.”
“Was he the boyfriend?” Kate asked.
“Boyfriend?” The doctor stared at her. “What boyfriend?”
“We were told the police investigated the boyfriend of one of the mothers who’s child was killed,” Jordyn answered.
“Oh, no. Brian was a teacher at the school. He was good friends with Cecilia. Alexis Crider’s parents were married, so I’m not sure who you could be talking about,” the doctor replied.
“There was another little boy too. Peter Billson.”
“Yes, Peter’s parents were married, I believe, too. Don’t quote me on that though. Regardless, I’ve never heard of anyone else being seriously suspected of the crime,” he said.
“Well, what information does your group have, then? Surely if we work together, we can come up with a plan.”
“I wish we could help, I really do, but the truth is we’ve hit more dead ends than I care to tell y
ou. These people are smart. God knows what they’re capable of.” He placed his hand on her shoulder. “I want to help you, I do, but unless you can show me evidence, we’d just be wasting our time.”
“What if we rallied the town?” Kate asked from the opposite side of the room.
“Rallied the town? These people have been hiding away for over a decade, most of them. Avoiding their friends, dropping their acquaintances, they don’t leave their houses.”
“But if we tell them we want to stop this? Surely there are more of us out there, groups like yours and mine. People who feel the way we do. People who remember the way it used to be.” Jordyn looked to Lorelai. “Parents who have lost, people who just want this be over with. Maybe if people knew that there were others out there, that they weren’t alone, maybe they’d come out. There’s no way they can outnumber all of us.”
“They don’t have to outnumber us, just outsmart us,” the doctor said.
“Rick, maybe they’re right,” Lorelai said. “We must have at least thirty friends who could help us, plus her group. If we all work together, call the town to action, maybe, I mean, there have to be others. There must be. No one wants this. We could ask everyone to meet us. A rally of sorts.”
“Yes.” Jordyn nodded excitedly. “If we all agree to work together, even if we don’t catch the killers, we could stand up to them. Maybe scare them enough to make them stop.”
“It’s not that easy,” the doctor, Rick, said.
“Living this way can’t be easy, either,” Kate argued.
Rick sighed. “Okay. It certainly seems like I’m outnumbered. I’ll contact the guys from my group, see what I can do. You contact your people. What’s the plan, exactly? What do I tell them?”
Jordyn thought about it a second, surprised she’d even made it this far. “Okay, tomorrow at nine we’ll start contacting everyone in town. Contact everyone who’s been affected, everyone who’s suffered immeasurable loss, people who have nothing left to lose but everything to gain. At noon, we’ll meet downtown and see what our numbers look like. If we have enough, we’ll stage a protest. Riot. We’ll stand out there for as long as it takes.”
“As long as it takes for what?”
“If we can do this right, only two things can happen. We’ll either talk to enough people, put enough heads together to come up with a plan, someone somewhere has to know something or remember something. We can figure out who it is we’re up against.”
“Or?” Lorelai asked.
“Or the killers reveal themselves.”
“What? You honestly think they’ll just give themselves up?” Rick scratched his head.
“No. No, I don’t think they’ll give themselves up at all.” She looked down. When she looked back up, her face was fierce. “I think they’ll try to stop us, however they can make us afraid again. But we can’t let that happen. No matter what.”
“Should I tell my people to come armed then?” Rick asked cautiously.
“These people murdered our children in cold blood. Maybe, hopefully, they’ll see our numbers and they’ll leave peacefully. But more likely, I think we should bring every weapon in this town.”
Chapter Nineteen
The next morning, Jordyn met Connor in the kitchen as he was on his way out.
“Good morning,” she said coolly.
“Morning.” He smiled at her sadly.
“Did you watch the news this morning?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Why?”
“Henry’s daughter was shot last night.”
He gasped at her as he slipped on his blazer. “Next door?”
She nodded.
He pulled her into a hug, kissing the top of her head. “It could’ve been us. They could’ve come here.” Pulling out of the hug he stared at her. “Do they know who did it? Did they catch them? Is she okay?”
“No, they don’t know who did it. It took them an hour to even show up and once they did, they were basically useless.”
“What do you mean it took them an hour to show up?” he asked.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Connor. The cops here—”
“Were you over there?” he demanded.
“We heard the gunshots! Henry’s my friend. I went over to help. To see what I could do,” she said defensively.
His face was filled with anger as he backed away from her, shaking his head. “You could’ve been killed. Are you crazy? What could you have possibly been thinking?”
“I was thinking about someone other than myself,” Jordyn snapped.
Connor’s eyebrows raised. “Whatever. Just stay home today, okay? Pack. Please.”
“I can’t,” she said, holding his gaze.
“Why the hell can’t you?”
“Because. I have things to take care of.”
He grabbed his lunch box, slipping his phone into his pocket. “What could you possibly have to do? Oh wait, running into burning buildings, perhaps? Chasing down gunmen? Maybe someone will have a bomb that you can jump on top of.” His voice raised in feigned excitement.
“Oh, just forget it, Connor.”
With that, he turned on his heel, slamming the door shut behind him. Even through the glass, she heard him say, “Why can’t you ever just leave it alone?”
***
Jordyn and Kate hit the road at exactly 8:50, ready to set their plans in motion. Their first step was to stop by Henry’s place. Jordyn knocked softly, hoping she wouldn’t wake them if they were still asleep. If they were even home.
Much to her surprise, Henry was at the door immediately, looking like he hadn’t slept a bit. His gray hair stood up in every direction and his wrinkles looked somehow more prominent today.
“Henry,” Jordyn said softly.
“Why is it you just seem to be in my doorway so often lately?” he asked, his breath reeking of whiskey.
“I wanted to check on Lauren. And you. See how you were holding up. I tried to watch for you to come home last night, but I must have missed you.”
“Yeah, well, thanks for your concern, but I don’t much feel like company.” He moved to shut the door.
She put her arm up. “Henry. She’s okay, isn’t she?”
Tears filled his old, blue eyes, and his chin began to quiver.
“Henry?” Jordyn’s stomach twisted into knots, knowing the answer to her question.
“The bullets were clean through, but the last one…it broke. She was gone before we even made it to the hospital.” He wiped his eyes, trying to pretend that he wasn’t tearing up.
“Oh.” Jordyn blinked rapidly, wanting to hug him but unable to move. “Oh, Henry. I’m, I’m just so sorry.”
“What are they doing about the person responsible?” Kate asked.
“They…there wasn’t anyone responsible. Said she, said she did it herself. I should’ve never, never…left that gun. Should’ve gotten rid of it years ago.” His face was filled with an angry sorrow, trying not to break down, but looking so ripped apart.
“They can’t believe that she would—Henry, she wouldn’t. You know that. Don’t let them inside of your head,” Jordyn said, touching his chest.
“I know what I know. And what I know is that I told her about that, that damn List. Next thing I know, she’s gone. Maybe she didn’t wanna wait it out. Stubborn, that one. Maybe she wanted things in her own hands, you know?”
“Henry, no.” Jordyn shook her head.
“I’ll be fine.” He stepped back further into his house, pulling the door nearly closed.
“Do you need anything? I’m just so sorry. Let me help you. Please.”
He shook his head. “It’s best that you leave now, Ms. Atwood. Leave me alone. Maybe you oughta just go ahead and move after all. Save that son of yours.”
His mood changed so quickly that it shocked her. “What about all the things you said yesterday? You said I’d be in danger if I left. What about that?”
His face grew strange as he looked at her.
“Seems to me it’d be awful hard for you to be in danger, when you’re the one behind it all.”
Chapter Twenty
HIM
He pulled into an empty parking spot inside of the lot. His head still fumed from the night before. How had he managed to let things get so out of control? It was this woman, this interference. He’d never been so sloppy before. Not even the first time. Always, there’d been a plan, a set of actions and reactions that had to occur before each murder and then after. There was a pattern of not leaving a pattern. He’d always been so good at what he did, keeping emotion out of it.
In last night’s rage, the girl had died a painful death. It hadn’t been his intention. He hadn’t had time to even set up the scene, leave enough clues for the police to deem it an accident. It was sloppy work, work that he wasn’t proud of. He had to collect his head. Had to. No longer optional. He needed to clear himself of all the recent negativity before he messed up something worse.
He climbed out of his car, hitting the button to lock it and began to cross the parking lot. Before reaching his destination, a blonde woman came into view. She climbed out of her gray SUV in a hurry. She was turned away from him, but he recognized her immediately. He watched her grab her purse from the passenger’s seat, she turned around, jumping at the sight of him being so close.
“Oh, I’m sorry. You scared me,” She apologized, clutching her chest, a giant smile plastered on her once pretty face. She stepped out of the way, making room for him to pass. She didn’t recognize him, it was obvious, but he’d recognize her anywhere.
He stepped aside, making his way through the space she’d cleared. “No problem.” He heard her heels clicking as she began to walk the other direction, probably headed toward the bank. It would be so easy, he thought, to rob her right now. To snatch her purse and run. It probably had several nights’ worth of school deposits, maybe even her parents’ store deposits. Were he a petty criminal, he might have tried it, just for fun. But his plan was much more important. Besides, it wasn’t as if he truly needed the money. He put the thought out of his mind, suddenly forming a new idea.
The List (The Carolina Killer Files Book 2) Page 16