Adam had bound her and Jaye together by their right and left ankles, respectively. He had secured their wrists individually, palms pressed together. If they escaped him or the boat capsized, they would have a minimal chance of surviving.
He had thought through every detail of his plan carefully, Anna realized. The boat and location. The way they had been bound. How he planned to kill them. No doubt his escape route as well.
Even so, Anna refused to consider what Adam’s plans for them might be or how the creatures that inhabited the swamp might be involved in those plans. She refused to give in to her fear.
Fear would strangle her, she knew. It would choke off any chance she had to outwit this monster. If she gave in, she would be signing a death warrant not only for herself, but Jaye as well.
The outboard motor hummed as it propelled the craft down the winding, dark waterway. Little sun got through the branches of the huge cypress and live oaks trees. Anna shivered as the cold, damp air worked its way through her clothing to her flesh, chilling her to her core.
Up ahead, a snake dropped from the branch of a cypress tree and slithered toward the bank of the bayou. Anna shifted her gaze to Adam. “Why are you doing this?” she asked evenly. “What have we ever done to you?”
“Why?” he repeated. “Because I want Harlow Grail to know the terror we knew. The horror. I want little princess Harlow to know what it is to be alone, to be abandoned and left for dead.”
“Left for dead?” she repeated. “I don’t understand.”
“Think, Harlow. You know who we are. You abandoned us though you promised you wouldn’t. You’re a liar.”
A denial sprang to her lips; she never uttered it. She brought a hand to her mouth. “Timmy?” she whispered. “You can’t be…you can’t mean… Timmy?”
Once again his teeth stretched over his lips in an obscene attempt at a smile. “But I do, princess. Little Timmy Price.”
Anna made a sound of disbelief. Her hands began to shake. “Timmy’s dead. He’s been dead a long time. Kurt killed him. He killed him right in front of my eyes.”
“He would have died,” Adam murmured. “But the old bitch wanted a little boy. She wanted to be a mommy.”
“I don’t believe you. You’re a monster. You’d say anything to—”
“While Kurt was performing surgery on your hand, the old bitch revived him. She’d worked in a hospital, she knew CPR.” Adam leaned forward, face twisted with hate. “He was alive when you left him behind.”
Despair choked her. She struggled to understand, to make sense of what he was saying. “You’re the liar!” she cried. “He was dead! He was!”
“No. You abandoned him. You promised to take care of him, but you left him behind. You left him with Kurt.”
Timmy had been alive. She shook her head against the horror of it, tears spilling over. “I thought he was dead. I didn’t…I never would have—”
“No one came for him, Harlow. Not ever. Even though he waited and prayed. He believed you’d come back. But you didn’t.”
No one had come because she had told everyone Timmy was dead.
It couldn’t be true. She didn’t want to believe it.
But she did, and it hurt almost more than she could bear. Anna gazed at him through her tears, searching for a glimpse of the boy she had known and loved. The sweet, curly-haired cherub who had followed her around.
“Timmy?” she managed to say. “Is it really you?”
Anger seemed to explode from Adam. Beside her, Jaye whimpered and leaned closer to Anna’s side. “Timmy? I’m not Timmy. That sniveling little wimp. He wanted his mommy. He wanted Harlow. He couldn’t take it. So I stepped in. I’m the strong one.” He thumped his chest with the butt of his gun. “Me. I took everything Kurt dished out.”
Anna struggled to understand, to make sense of what he was telling her. Suddenly she remembered a conversation she and Ben had had, that night at the Café du Monde. He’d talked about his work, his book. He had discussed the toll childhood trauma took on the psyche, about the ways that trauma manifested itself in adult personality.
The ultimate expression of that being the fracturing of the psyche into separate and distinct personalities.
Anna searched her memory for exactly what he had said. That such fracturing occurred as a way for the psyche to protect itself. That it was seen in adults who had experienced repeated, sadistic abuse in early childhood. He’d said that the various personalities performed specific functions for the host personality.
Adam had taken Kurt’s abuse.
“You took it from Kurt,” she said softly, voice quivering. “So what about Ben? What did he…take, if you handled Kurt?”
“Ben got all the glory, the prick. He got to be mommy’s good boy. He got the fancy education and the accolades.” Adam’s lips twisted in a sneer. “He was so pathetic, he didn’t even see that it was me paving the way for him. Making it all possible. I was the one who took the heat, the one who made everything all right. He thought he was the only one.”
Ben hadn’t been aware he was a multiple. He hadn’t known about Adam or his plans. She didn’t know why that made her feel so much better, but it did.
He waved the gun at her. “I was the one who finally took care of Kurt. That’s right, me. All these years you’ve been afraid of him, he’s been maggot food. Today I offed the old bitch. Now it’s little Harlow’s turn.”
“Evening the score?”
“Damn right,” he said proudly. “The great Savannah Grail was easy to trick. I played on her vanity and guilt and she handed her daughter over without a second thought. Ben’s mother, the addled old fool, always did my bidding. I moved her to New Orleans, knowing Ben would follow, knowing he would think her slipping further into her disease. Ben played along, reacting just as I predicted at every turn. So did Minnie. I controlled them all.”
“Really?” Anna arched an eyebrow. “Seems to me Minnie threw you a few curves.”
“That Minnie’s a real pip. Surprised the hell out of me, going to Ben the way she did. Then calling that detective. But I can’t stay too angry with her, she’s helped me out over the years. Especially when Kurt brought those friends of his around. They were a real friendly bunch, if you know what I mean. She helped me out by taking—”
“Don’t talk about her!” Jaye said suddenly, voice high and quivering. “You don’t deserve to even know her!”
He turned his flat gaze on Jaye. “You’re a lot of trouble, you know that? I’d like you to shut the fuck up.”
He delivered the words in a conversational tone, as if simply commenting on the weather. Frightened for her friend, Anna brought his attention back to her.
“So, Ben didn’t know about you. Or Minnie. Or…me.”
He adjusted the boat’s prop as they eased into shallower water. “Give the lady a gold star.”
Anna felt ill. She imagined the horrors Timmy had been forced to endure, abuse horrific enough to cause his psyche to fracture in an attempt at self-preservation.
“What about Timmy?” she asked. “Where is he now?”
Adam’s lips lifted into a thin smile. “Gone.”
“Gone,” she repeated. “I don’t understand.”
He snorted, impatient. “We’re almost there, I don’t want to talk anymore.”
Anna ignored him. “He can’t be gone. Because you’re part of him.”
“Shut up.”
“Timmy,” she said. “It’s Harlow. Are you there?”
“Shut up,” he said again, voice rising.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. They told me you were dead.” She leaned forward, voice quivering with emotion, tears choking her. “I would have come for you, we all would have. I loved you.” The tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision. “Your mother…your real mother loved you, too. She died a few years back, but she mourned your loss until that day. She missed you…so much.”
Adam shuddered and twitched. His rage seemed to slip away, his
features became soft, childlike, his body language that of one who was small and lost. In that split second, Anna glimpsed the boy she had known. She saw Timmy.
As quickly as he had appeared, he was gone. Replaced again by Adam.
Anna fought grief and focused instead on what she had just witnessed. On how it had happened.
The switch from one personality to another occurred in the blink of an eye. They were proceeded by a twitch or a shudder, but one that was natural, nearly seamless. Unless one looked for it.
She could get the gun away during one of the switches. If she could move quickly enough.
Adam seemed to be tiring. She wondered at the cost in mental energy to keep the other two suppressed. Because if they existed in a state of coconsciousness, which she vaguely remembered having read about, then Minnie and Ben were aware of what was happening.
And if they were, they would try to stop Adam. She believed that.
He cut the motor. Instead of silence, she heard the sound of another boat in the distance. Adam glanced over his shoulder, then back at them. “That’s nothing. A fisherman.”
“How can you be so sure?”
He ignored her and motioned with the gun. “Stand up.”
Jaye began to cry. Anna stiffened her spine. “No.”
“Stand up or I’ll shoot you where you sit.”
He meant what he said and Anna stood, bringing Jaye up with her. The boat rocked, and Anna tried to steady Jaye. The sound of the other boat drew grew louder.
“I chose this little spot because it’s a favorite with the alligators. Lots of nests in the spring and summer.” He chuckled and motioned with his revolver. “See that big boy over there? Handsome devil, isn’t he? I bet he’s twenty feet. Looks hungry, too.”
Anna fought falling apart. “Let Jaye go. I don’t care what you do to me, but she’s the innocent—”
“An…na…” The voice ebbed and retreated on the chill, damp air. “Ja…ye…”
Quentin. Anna almost sobbed with relief. “We’re here!” she shouted. “We’re here!”
“Shut your mouth! Shut—”
“Quentin!” she screamed again. “Come quick! Come qui—”
Adam laughed suddenly, the sound high and wild. He cocked the gun. “Go ahead, shout. Scream your fucking head off. It’s too late, Harlow Grail. You’re already dead.”
CHAPTER 67
Wednesday, February 7
4:30 p.m.
From a place above and outside himself, Ben watched in horror as Adam leveled the gun on Anna’s chest. He fought to free himself, but Adam was too strong. He refused let him out.
Stop! Leave them alone! Do you hear me? Let me out!
Adam could hear him, he knew. In the past few days he had taken a crash course in being a multiple. He had managed to get the hang of coconsciousness, had learned how to tune in to the voices in his head, had learned how to facilitate a switch.
He owed it all to Minnie. She had contacted him through the journal. Through it she had explained who—and what—he was.
Adam Furst. Minnie. Benjamin Walker. He was all of them.
Or rather, they were all part of the boy who had been Timmy.
He had been horrified. Despairing. But after the first shock had worn off, he had been unable to deny it was true. He understood now the headaches. The moments of lost time. Why he slept like the dead. The missing pieces of his past. His mother’s confusion. The many times he had been recognized by people he didn’t know.
All the pieces fit. Each of them a classic symptom of disassociative identity disorder. Dear Jesus, how could he not have seen it? He was a psychologist, for God’s sake. He had observed patients who had suffered with DID.
If only Minnie had come to him sooner. Those women wouldn’t have died. He wouldn’t have allowed it.
We can do it together. Minnie’s voice. We can save them.
He and Minnie had made their own plan. They had agreed that working together was the only way to stop Adam. They would wait for the right moment. And when it came, whoever managed to get free would do it. No hesitation.
Now!
He heard Minnie and strained to be free. He shouted at Adam, he kicked and clawed and demanded to be let out. Minnie did the same.
Adam weakened; Minnie slipped out.
No hesitation, Minnie. Do it.
Ben watched as she turned the gun on herself. “You’re my best friend, Jaye. I won’t let him hurt you.”
Then she pulled the trigger.
CHAPTER 68
Eight weeks later
The French Quarter
Spring had come to New Orleans. Though the winter of 2001 had gone on record as the city’s coldest ever, the azaleas had bloomed as if on cue, the trees had budded out, becoming green as if by magic.
Anna breathed deeply of the warm, fragrant air and caught Quentin’s hand, curling her fingers around his. They had brunched with Jaye and the entire Malone clan on Jackson Square, enjoying not only the day and each other’s company, but watching the parade of wide-eyed tourists as well.
In a way, Anna had felt like one of them. Every day, she was wide-eyed at the wonder of living without fear. Without the constant weight of it at her back and at the edges of her consciousness. She supposed that one day she would forget to be awed and thankful, but not yet. Not for a very long time.
The last of Quentin’s family bid them farewell, and now Jaye was getting ready to leave. The girl kissed Anna’s cheek. “I’ve got to run. Fran’s taking me to the mall. There’s a big sale at Abercrombie’s.”
Anna smiled, pleased by Jaye’s obvious happiness. “You and your foster mom are getting along well these days.”
Jaye lifted a shoulder, expression wicked. “She’s not so bad. She hasn’t sacrificed any small animals in weeks now.”
Fran Clausen had wept with joy when Jaye had been returned to her. She had begged the girl’s forgiveness for having believed she’d run away. Her tears had meant the world to Jaye, and in a show of real maturity, Jaye had not only forgiven her, but accepted some of the responsibility for the couple’s attitude. Jaye’s past history of bolting had warranted it.
Her kidnapping ordeal had left Jaye a changed girl. She was more accepting of herself and others, easygoing in a way she had never been. It was as if almost dying had given her a sense of how precious life was. How good.
“Love you, kiddo,” Anna murmured, giving her a quick hug. “Have fun.”
Anna watched the girl walk away. She tucked her arm through Quentin’s. “It’s so quiet now.”
Quentin glanced down at her with one of his quicksilver smiles. “Blessedly so. My family can be a little overwhelming when attempted all at once.”
Anna laughed. “I adore them, individually and taken as a whole. You’re a lucky guy, you know that?”
He stopped and met her eyes. “Lucky I found you.”
Tears stung her eyes. Ones of joy. And of sadness. Because joy brought thoughts of Timmy. Some nights she awoke dreaming of him; in them he was alive and happy. The way he had been as a young child.
He was happy now, she believed that. He was with his mother, his real mother. Finally and forever.
Anna stood on tiptoe and kissed Quentin. “Thank you, Detective Malone. I feel mighty lucky, too.”
They began to walk. “I went to see Terry today,” he said.
“How’s he doing?”
“Not great. He’s taking Penny’s move to Lafayette hard. But the therapy seems to be doing him good. It’s going to be a long haul, though.” Affection warmed his tone. “But Terry’s never done anything the easy way.”
She squeezed his arm. “I know it helps that you’re there for him.”
“We all are, Aunt Patti, too. She checks in on him every day. She’s made it clear that when he’s ready, she wants him back at work.”
They walked in silence a while; Quentin broke it first. “So, hotshot, how’s the new book coming?”
He had taken to calling
her that ever since three major publishers had gotten into a bidding war over her next book. The competition had sent the amount of the offer into the stratosphere. Her new publisher had no doubt about the book earning out the advance—because of her past, they expected interest in her book to be overwhelming. They were already talking about her tour and she had barely begun writing the story.
Anna tilted her face up to his. “Great. And my new editor’s a dream to work with.”
She shook her head, amazed at herself. When she toured, she would be on television and radio answering questions about herself and her past. She would be in front of the public, exposed and vulnerable to any nut-case who might be lurking about.
And she wasn’t afraid.
She had promised herself she would never be afraid again. That she would never again hide from life. Life was about taking chances, facing the good…and the bad. It was about birth and death and everything in between.
Her apartment building came into view up ahead. She elbowed Quentin. “Besides, who’s the hotshot here? I’m not the one who was accepted into Tulane’s law school.”
He laughed and shook his head. “I still can’t believe it. Quentin Malone, future shark in a suit.” His smile faded. “If I can cut it.”
“You can.” She stopped and turned toward him. “I believe in you.”
“Yeah?” He cupped her face in his palms, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Yeah.”
He kissed her then. Deeply. Passionately.
She kissed him back the same way.
“Good to see you kids out and about.”
Alphonse Badeaux and Mr. Bingle stood behind them, dog and master both grinning from ear to ear. Anna’s cheeks warmed. “Alphonse! I didn’t know you were there.”
Malone held out a hand. “Good to see you again, Alphonse. How are you and Bingle doing today?”
They shook hands. “Can’t complain. Not on a day as pretty as this.”
Anna reached down and scratched the bulldog behind the ears. “Come up for an iced tea sometime. I’ve got some biscuits for Mr. Bingle, too. The ones he likes.”
Dark and Twisted Reads: All the Pretty GirlsA Perfect EvilBone Cold (A Taylor Jackson Novel) Page 106