Near the center the car came to a stop. Agent Perez looked over his shoulder. "Here we are. Now what are you going to show me?"
"We have to go to the side of the bridge. It's over there."
"What’s over there?" he said.
"What I want you to see." She pulled on the handle to her door, but it was locked. Her brows tightened as she peered at him in the rear-view mirror. "Am I under arrest?"
"You're not leaving until you tell me what we're going to look at."
She snarled. "If I'm not under arrest, you better open this door right now."
Their eyes stayed locked for an excruciating five seconds.
Then Dan said softly, "...Awkward..."
"Fine,” said Perez. "I'll let you out, but if you’re deceiving me, I will cuff you, and you will be under arrest."
The door lock clicked, and Holly got out, followed quickly by the others. She walked around the back of the car and grabbed Dan by the crook of the arm. She dragged him between the parked cars to the side of the bridge.
A woman from one of the local television stations locked onto Holly and pushed through the group and between the cars. "Miss Paris, may I have a word with you?!"
Dan stepped between them. "She's not talking to anyone right now."
"Miss Paris, what do you believe the killer intends to do?"
More reporters began moving in their direction.
The agents flashed their badges. "Step back or you will be charged with obstruction of justice." They pushed the group back between the cars, and Holly pulled Dan toward the peak of the bridge.
The earbud came to life again. "Climb up onto the cement rail and shout, ‘I'm going to jump!’ Make it sound convincing!"
Holly pulled away from Dan and looked around frantically. Was the killer near? Was he watching from one of the vehicles on the side of the bridge? She looked at the cement edge and cringed. The drop was at least a hundred feet.
"Do it now Holly, or your son dies!"
Dan was watching her with concern. There was no way he would let her climb onto the cement wall. Once again, she was taken by surprise at the turn of events, unprepared to do what she was being directed to do. She looked at the confusion around her as the agents and police kept the media at bay.
The earbud buzzed again. "This is your last warning."
She swung her arm around and pointed. "HE HAS A BOMB!" The crowd turned and some ducked for cover. Dan pivoted to see what she was pointing at, and made an attempt to shield her.
She seized the brief seconds to clamor up onto the cement edge, and stand. The lip was two feet wide, but it felt like inches. The dizzying height caused her balance to falter as she stared down at the rushing rapids below. The dam upriver had a cycle of opening and closing, which caused a high tide and low tide in the river. It was currently at low tide; she could see the water bubbling and churning around the large rocks below. There had been discussion by the local municipalities about putting up a chain link fence on the bridge, but the lack of suicides had kept the wheels of progress from moving forward.
Holly forced herself to turn her back to the dangerous scene below. One by one every eye was back on her, including Dan's. She stood with her fists clenched and shouted.
"I'm GOING TO JUMP!"
Chapter 47
Dr. Carter slumped forward. "Have you ever been in love?"
Angela crouched down. "Yes."
"Have you ever been so in love you were willing to do anything to protect that person?"
"Yes."
"Before I realized what was going on, I had fallen deeply in love with her. I still am. But she is broken. The pain of her childhood has split her in two. I wanted to fix her and make her whole again, but as we got closer to her birthday, to the day when her other-half takes complete control, I realized it was going to happen again. And I knew I had to do something. I thought the two halves of her were separate, and I tried to convince her to stay with me in a locked room till the day passed. But she turned during the conversation, and her other half tried to convince me to help. She said we were the same. In some sick way she sees herself as helping children. She thinks she is helping them avoid the torment she faced as a child—assuming it is better for them to go into oblivion than live this tortured life.”
He looked down at his hands and heaved a sigh. "I asked her, what about the women? What about the pain she is causing them? And that's when I saw the evil inside her. She hates the mothers of these children. She wants them to suffer for their crimes. That's how she sees it. She can't understand why a thief is locked in prison for stealing a television, while negligent mothers roam free on our streets."
Angela interrupted, "I appreciate your testimony, but time is of the essence. She’s threatened to do something at 2:00 today and we need to stop her. It’s 1:50. We need a name, and we need it now."
"But she'll kill them," he said, hanging his head.
"Who?"
"My friends and family. She doesn't want to hurt the innocent, but she said I would be the one hurting them. She said her anger toward me for making her hurt them would make their suffering all the more violent. That's why I went underground. I was afraid you would interrogate me and I wouldn't be able to stay quiet. It is all for them.” His eyes pleaded. "Promise me you’ll handle this with discretion."
"You have my word. I will only do what is necessary to stop this from happening."
He looked at agent Blake then back at Angela. "I'll whisper it to you, and only you. But you didn't hear it from me."
She fastened the strap on her hand gun, and leaned in. "I'm listening."
His voice was dry in her ear, but there was no mistaking what he said:
"The killer is Amber Flynn."
Chapter 48
Holly wobbled in the wind as the crowd pushed in toward the edge, and traffic on the other side came to a complete stop. Every eye was on her teetering form on the cement barrier.
Dan reached up, and she screamed, "Don't!"
He froze. The look on his face was a mixture of horror and confusion. "Holly—what are you doing?"
"Don't touch me!"
He looked over the edge and back up at her. "Holly, come on.” He kept his voice level. "Come on, Holly. Get down.”
Agent Perez edged in. "Listen to me, Holly, whatever he told you to do, you can't trust him. He’s using you. He’s..."
"STAY BACK!" she screeched.
The earbud buzzed. "Tell them you have a demand."
"I have a demand!"
"Tell them you want a microphone."
"I want a microphone!"
Dan crept forward.
She turned on him with ferocity. "BACK OFF!" Her head snapped up. "I want a microphone!"
Every news agency scrambled to be the first to give her one.
The earbud buzzed again. "Tell them you want everyone to hear."
"I want everyone to hear! Make sure everyone can hear!"
Dan pleaded with her. "I don't understand. Why are you doing this, Holly?"
She shot him a venomous look.
"We can work this out. Come on, just come down. Holly—please."
She spoke so only he could hear her over the wind and the noise of the media frenzy. "You have to trust me."
The intensity of his eyes felt like an electrical current passing through her. "I trust you," he said, "I have faith in you."
No one had ever had faith in her before. How odd it should come at the worst possible moment of her life, when she was least deserving of that trust.
A man came running toward her from the crowd. She edged backwards. "Here," he said, "this is connected to the truck, and everyone is plugging into that so we’ll all have a signal." He held out a green box with a black cord and lapel mic coiled on top.
She pointed at Dan. "Give it to him."
Dan held his hand out; the man put the unit into his palm and backed away. Dan held it out toward her and she plucked it from him like a mouse going for the cheese.
He didn't attempt to grab her, but took the opportunity to move an inch closer.
She attached the mic to her shirt and clipped the box to the pocket on her shorts.
"Good," said the killer. "Now you will tell my story, pretending to be me."
The words slowly sunk in. Pretend to be him? And have everyone believe she was the murderer?! Was public humiliation the penalty for her crime? She wanted to protest—but how could she? The communication was only one way; all she could do was listen, and obey.
"Repeat everything I say."
She did as he requested, without hesitation, as though his voice and hers had melted into one. "I killed those children," she said. "I did it out of mercy, the mercy I was not given by my own mother. My mother was an alcoholic and a drug addict. She sold her body for drug money, and did her business in the ratty one room apartment we lived in. I was beaten by men who didn't know me, forced to gratify them in ways too painful to mention, and victimized by school bullies. To avoid torture I sought refuge in a local gang and was forced to hurt others to be accepted. By the age of nine, I had killed another human being. By the age of twelve, I had prostituted myself to protect my mother. Then at sixteen I stabbed her to death while she slept.
"What kind of life was I given? What right did my so-called mother have to bring me into her filthy world? Are you a mother, watching me right now? I am speaking to you. You have no right to make another human being suffer in the swill hole of your bad judgment! Do you hear me, mothers? Do you women hear me? You have a responsibility to make a home for your child. Something must be done. Someone must stand up and rid this world of unfit mothers! This torture can not be allowed to go on.
"Today you will see the consequence of your evil deeds. Today you will see the hopelessness of an unwanted child. Watch and remember what pain your weakness has birthed into this world."
The earbud went quiet.
Holly teetered on the cement lip, like a hollow husk, emptied of every ounce of strength, and horrified by the words she had just shared. There was no movement in the crowd. All eyes were glued on her. Some stared in shock, some in disgust, others in pity. It was the pity she hated most.
"Do not repeat this. Just listen," said the earbud at last. "This is the part where you save your son's life, Holly. Are you listening to me? Are you ready?"
She scanned the crowd, looking for him. Where was he? He had to be here, watching. She looked into the window of every truck and every car parked on the bridge. Whole families watched out their windows in horror. There was hardly a movement on the bridge, as if time had come to a stop.
Her eyes came to rest on a blue car with its hood up in the breakdown lane on the other side of the bridge. At first her mind rejected the face in the window. After all, why would she be here? She’d said she was going to stay at the apartment. But as Holly kept her eyes locked on the window, there became no doubt it was who she thought it was.
The voice spoke in her ear again, and Holly watched in horror as Amber's lips moved just out of sync. "There is a bomb strapped to your son...”
Holly’s mind reeled as she tried to comprehend. Amber?! She looked around erratically. The killer was right there, in plain sight. How could no one see her?
"...If you move from where you are standing, Holly, I will end his life with the press of a button. You know I will."
She was there in plain sight, but all eyes were on Holly! In some bizarre way, they had traded places—but for what purpose?
"I know you can see me, Holly," said the voice in her ear. "Don't be confused. Your little brain is going to think I am your sweet roommate, but you need to fight that feeling. I am a killer. What you will decide is, who have I come to kill? This is your chance to do the right thing for once in your miserable, sorry life. It is time for you to save your son. It is a trade, your life for Gabe’s."
Holly's knees weakened, and Dan reached for her.
"STAY BACK!" she screeched.
He recoiled.
Amber spoke again in her deep black tone. "It's simple really. I've been killing the wrong ones. Gabe is a victim. You are the problem. He doesn't deserve to have his life cut short. He deserves a better life, a life without you."
The words sliced deep into Holly’s gut.
"I love your son, Holly. If you make this one sacrifice, be assured, I will let him live. It all rests on you. Whose life is worth more?"
Amber was right. What was her life worth compared to his? When this all blew over she would go back to the Oxys and the wine. She would destroy whatever had kindled between her and Dan. It was a fairy tale to believe he could actually love her. He was better off without the misery she would bring into his life. The whole world was better off without her in it. What had she ever done of value? She was a user, and so tired of feeling pathetic. At least her death would have meaning. With one act she could redeem herself—and at the same time end her pain.
She looked skyward and made her decision. All her fear and shame released into the heavens, leaving only a complete and perfect peace she had never known before. Her last thought went out to Gabe. This is for you my love. Live a good life and make me proud. Your mom loves you.
She closed her eyes.
Opened her arms.
And fell backwards.
Chapter 49
Jenna's car was parked in front of the large residential-looking building that held the Doris Boardman Clinic. Part of Jake couldn't believe she was actually here. He’d held out hope that Mina was wrong, or, at the very least, that Jenna had gotten cold feet. But she hadn't. She was here. And he was too late.
He got out of the car and ran discreetly to the left corner of the building. There was no activity in the parking lot and no movement in the woods, so he ran along the mulch bed between the cover of pine trees and the left wall of the clinic until he found the window Holly had told him about. He inched along the wall, carefully peered inside, and saw the L-shaped chestnut desk she had described. He got to his knees and tested the window, and as he pressed his knee down into the mulch something hard dug into it. He brushed the top layer aside and pulled up a black keychain with a Mazda emblem in raised silver. Odd. What was Holly doing burying a keychain outside a window of the clinic? And where was the key?
There was no time to ponder the implications; he needed to get into the cover of the office. Whatever her reason, he doubted he would pursue it anyway. She had apparently taken great personal risk in exposing this secret to him in order that he might rescue his daughter. So he intended to honor her trust.
He put it into his pocket and tried the window. It was unlocked just as Holly had promised. The thick glass made it a heavy slide, but he managed to brace it with his back and worm his way inside.
The room was lightly shaded by the half-drawn blinds and the coverage of the pines outside. He closed the window gently and crept toward the door.
The light on the handle turned green and let off a beep.
Jake scrambled for cover; someone was coming in! He crawled under the desk and huddled, silently controlling his breathing. His pulse throbbed in his neck and sweat had already begun to push through the pores in his forehead.
He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hot ear to the cold metal under the desk. Listening. There was no sound. Why? He was sure the door lock had been activated.
He remained motionless for a couple of minutes, then slowly climbed out and peeked over the desk. The door lock was red again. Whoever had activated it had apparently changed their mind and moved on.
Finally he had caught a break.
He got up and crept toward the door again; the light turned green and beeped! Jake's heart jumped as he withdrew to the desk, but when he looked back the light was red again.
Was he somehow activating the lock? He inched forward, and the door beeped and turned green again. He was! But how? His hand patted his pocket—and it clicked in his mind. Someone had programmed the keychain to trigger the locks inside the building. But Holly didn
't have that ability; it had to have been someone else. Did the keychain belong to her, or did she just know about the keychain buried under the mulch?
He forced the mystery from his mind; Jenna was in the clinic and Aiyana's life was in danger. He didn't know how long it took to get a patient through this procedure, so he assumed the worst and moved quickly. The keychain mystery would have to wait. For the time being, he would choose to be grateful for the access the device provided.
He turned the handle, opened the door a crack, and listened. There was no sound of footsteps or conversation, so he crept the door open and looked out. The hall was empty. Across the way was a lit examination room. He sneaked to it, peeked in, and retreated back to the office. All was clear for him to head down the hall, but which way? Going right would bring him towards the front of the building, so he decided to go left.
"Daddy?"
He jumped out of his skin and twisted around. Aiyana was standing in the middle of the office; she ran and immediately threw herself onto his neck. His arms went around her and clutched her to him.
He breathed her name into her soft brown hair and tiny shoulder. "Aiyana. Are you okay?"
"I'm scared," she cried.
"I'm here, honey. I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
She gripped him tighter.
"We need to find your mom so I can talk to her, okay?"
She nodded with her face on his chest.
"There isn't much time; I need you to help me find her."
She pulled back, still gripping his shirt.
"Can you see where she is right now?"
"Yes, she's in a white room."
"Is she alone?"
"It's just us. She's on a high bed. It has paper on it."
"Does she have one of those medical gowns on?"
Aiyana looked puzzled. "No, she’s wearing her clothes."
Jake exhaled, "Good. Can you see outside the door; is it open?"
She nodded. "It's a hallway."
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