The Tutor

by K Larsen

  Dr. Richardson stares at me, mouth hanging open, before she can school her reaction.

  “I’m at a loss, Nora. I know you know the difference between right and wrong. I know you see the horror you endured but you refuse to refute it, in fact you embrace it, romanticize it.” She sighs and jots notes on her pad.

  “I’d like to get back now, if that’s alright with you.”

  Dr. Richardson looks up from her notes and sighs.

  “Yes. That’s fine. I’ll see you in a few days.”

  “Till then,” I say. She helps me with my coat and opens the door for me.

  By the time they find the remains, I’m already back at the motel with Eve. Agent Brown knocks on the door. I know, because she announces herself while she knocks.

  “How’re you doing?” she asks.

  I shrug because I really don’t know. I’m all over the place. The thought of Holden having any intimacy with another woman makes it difficult to breathe. But Agent Brown said I was special. Holden said I was special. I comfort myself with the thought that I was chosen carefully because I was special, more than the two poor girls in the ground.

  There were others. I always knew it—logically, but I’d hoped it was just me. Me and Holden. That somehow I was special. Then Eve came, but still, maybe I could learn to accept it was just us two. But no. Julie, went missing in 2012 at nineteen years old and the other; Tegan disappeared in late 2013 at twenty. Eve was taken in September of 2014, and escaped only three months before I took the job. Eve lasted for over a year. Eve survived the longest before escaping; longer than twenty four weeks; longer than me. I wonder if they will be able to figure out the dead girl’s’ approximate year or month of death. Did they die of the same cause of death? Did Holden treat them as he treated me? Only ever you whispers through my head and I want to laugh in horror or sorrow or maybe both. It was never only ever me. That clicking in my brain starts again.

  “Tomorrow morning, we’ll head out. Eve, are you still going home with Nora?” Agent Brown’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts.

  Eve looks to me. I say, “Where else does she have to go?” to Agent Brown.

  “When will you have concrete confirmation on the bodies?” Eve asks.

  “Within forty-eight hours.”

  “That’s good news,” I say. “But what happens now?”

  Agent Brown and Eve both look to me. It’s a valid question. We’re still no closer to finding Holden or Lotte.

  “We found the other cabin, your cabin, Nora. I found these.” She hands a box to me and another to Eve. I know what is inside Eve’s box. I do not know what Holden left for me. I hope it will have the letters I found and my charm from the necklace Ang gave me but that seems like a long shot.

  “I’ll let you girls have a moment,” Agent Brown says. She leaves our room and suddenly it is filled with silence. Eve does not speak, nor do I. I sit cross legged on the bed and put my hands on top of the box.

  I open the lid. Aubry’s letters are there. I haven’t read them. I should have when I had the chance but I didn’t and then Holden had moved the box. My cell phone. The logophile charm and my braid from the night I cut it. I cringe. Carefully, I pull out Aubry’s letters without touching the braid. It sits in the box like a snake, waiting to strike.

  There are four envelopes. My heart hurts that her letters went unanswered. The pain I caused her, the worry, makes me hate myself. I pull the letters from their envelopes and stack them in order of postmark before reading them all.

  Dear best friend in the whole wide world,

  AN OUTHOUSE?

  What the actual shizzle? That is unacceptable.

  Although your letter is full of positive vibes, forgive me while I dwell on the horrors of your situation . . .

  . . . .

  . . . .

  You laughed didn’t you? :)

  Tell me more about this Holden hotcake. And girl, just follow the Aubry Rules—if he flirts—go with it! Do something I would do, for once in your life! Maybe that domineering side is dying to let loose on you—like one of those Alpha Book Boyfriends you’re always gushing about. Have a little fiction come to reality moment while you’re there. You have my blessing. I will send more baby wipes. I feel as though if any of the above is to happen, you will need to be smelling fresh and clean.

  By the way—gross! Take a shower.

  I’ve only thrown one party, and it was only five people, so rest assured your house is still standing and happy. The plants, however, are struggling. I’m doing e.x.a.c.t.l.y. what you told me to but they don’t look as happy as they normally do under your care. Fret not my love, I will enlist Mom’s help to nurse them back to health for you.

  Thank you for the lack of unnecessary large words. I appreciate it. If I’m honest, I miss it, too. The world isn’t the same without you around. Who woulda thought?

  Oh, so, interesting news, Chad Berwick is officially hooked on me. I actually decided he’s a bit boring though. I keep trying to get him to leave me alone but he is determined to woo me. It’s really annoying actually. Another good who woulda thought moment. HA!

  Okay listen, SOA calls . . . thank God you sprang for cable while I stay here!

  Xoxo darling,

  Aub

  Nora,

  I am more than a little disappointed in you right now. Where are all my letters? I mean, when I said go for it with Holden, I didn’t mean be-too-busy-in-bed-to-write-my-bestie. Ya feelin’ me?

  But seriously. I’ve gotten one letter from you. ONE. It’s been weeks now with no update. Please, write me back. I know you’ve gotten all my letters because they haven’t been returned to me. I miss you. Mom saved your houseplants by the way. You are welcome. Ha.

  Okay, my hand’s cramping up. You know, actually writing is weird. My fingers prefer texting. Can’t wait to hear from you.

  Aub

  Xoxo

  Love of my life,

  Why you no write, beeatch?

  Okay, just kidding, but not. I’ve been waiting, and waiting for a letter. So, at this point, I’ve actually gone to the post office. I did that. I talked to them, thinking your mail lady was slacking off or something . . . but get this . . . she’s not—you just haven’t written. I’m kinda upset. Like, you never pull this stuff. So, let me know you are okay. Please.

  Xoxo, Aub

  Yo Word, Girl,

  I’ve written you six letters. SIX. ME!

  And you, who loves words and reading and writing, have written me exactly O.N.E. letter. Where are you? Is everything okay? I am beginning to freak out. It’s not like you to abandon a promise. I expect a full report when I see you next week.

  As I said in my last letter, I’m driving to Pocketville to pick you up! I will be at the bus station waiting for you. And I am so excited! Only one more week.

  Seven days.

  My summer has been sadly uneventful without you.

  So, see you next week!

  -Aub

  Him

  I watch her. Her porcelain skin, milky perfection. Her red hair pinned behind her ears. I still feel a surge of anger over her chopped locks. She knew I loved her long hair. Her jeans are baggy on her. I should have fed her better. I slipped into the deep end with her for a bit and now we’re all in over our heads. I didn’t stick to my plan. She weaseled her way inside me. The others were revolted by my wants, my needs, but Nora embraced them and it did something to me.

  The blood in my veins thunders. A girl meets her at the corner. Throws her arms around Nora and squeezes. Nora does not return the gesture, but stands awkwardly stiff in the girl’s arms. Get off her, I think. Cars rush by. There is so much ambient noise here in society, that my head aches and I cannot hear what they talk about before they turn up a side street and out of my sight.

  There is no meaning without Nora. She changed me. I did things for her I never expected to. Flowers, small gifts, affection and even tenderness. All things I wanted to do for her. I miss watching her mouth move as she
spoke. Her lips were enchanting. I miss the feel of her skin under my blade. I long to feel her soft, lithe body pressed against mine at night.

  Agent Brown

  “Tell me, Agent Brown,” my boss says, “what sort of person do you think we’re looking for? I’ve looked through the notes you sent and I have to say that you seem pretty sharp.” “Thanks,” I say.

  Then, quick to dismiss the compliment, add: “As for the type of person, I’m thinking it stems from abuse. When you consider that the victims weren’t all sexually abused, yet disfigured; it indicates that these kidnappings are based on some need for revenge on some woman that wronged him earlier in life.” My excitement continues to bloom; I feel a sense of motivation I have not felt toward my work in a very long time.

  “And as I understand it, as soon as we have a positive ID, some of you will need to visit family and friends to mine for information. We need to be sure they are all connected to Holden Douglas.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He hangs up and I fist pump the air. This is my chance at the promotion I’ve been gunning for the last two years. If I can nail this bastard, I will be the clear choice for the job.

  I glance at the clock on the wall, realize I missed lunch, then open the coroner’s report. It is the third time I’ve read it in two hours . . . body had ligature marks around the throat, along with twenty-two scars on the torso. Except for the amount of scarring, the report was almost identical to that of the other girls. Each, including Nora and Eve, had ligature marks at the throat. Each had scars. Fine white raised lines on their bodies. The number different on each, but there, nonetheless. Only one body stood out. Blunt force trauma to the head. No more than fourteen years old. My guess is it’s Laura, Holden’s sister but there isn’t a way to be sure. There is no record of birth for a Laura Douglas nor a Holden Douglas and chances are, we won’t ever know who they really are or were.

  I stretch my neck and roll my shoulders before picking up the phone to fill Salve in on my findings.

  Nora

  “Authorities are investigating two homicides after two women’s bodies were found in shallow graves last week.” Eve grabs the remote from the coffee table and turns the TV off.

  When I leave the house to meet Aubry at the police station, it is a cloudy morning and I gasp when I step onto the porch. A bouquet of wildflowers tied at the stems with twine lays on the porch floor. I snap my gaze up and survey the area. He was here. He is near. My heart leaps in my chest. I want to call out, but I do not. First loves never last and Holden and I share a bond that is impossible to sustain. He is a wanted man. I do not know what to do. I deliberate and finally pick up the flowers and bring them inside. I put them in water and admire them before leaving.

  When Ang and Anton enter the precinct, Aubry and I are leaving. I can’t look him in the eye. The police make a big deal out of it. Shouting that someone did something wrong. That I should not have to be exposed to him. This seems silly to me. They should have said that years ago. Now, it is pointless to keep my distance. Ang lets the police escort him inside and quickly joins Aubry and me.

  “Nora,” she sobs. I wrap my arms around her neck and pull her close to me.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay,” I say. She pulls back and shakes her head at me.

  “You shouldn’t be consoling me.”

  I smile at her. “Then what should I do?”

  She pulls me against her and we hold each other close for a long time. I am strangely detached from the incident. I told the facts without shedding a tear. Holden’s words had echoed in my head. That I would be okay and taken care of. That Anton was wrong. And that it was not my fault.

  Agent Brown’s number comes up on my caller ID and I pick up on the third ring. I put the call on speaker, so Eve can hear.

  “Coroner confirms the two bodies are the missing girls from my files.” Agent Brown’s voice is light and high pitched. She is happy. This is the news she wanted. Needed, to connect Holden to all the women. “Through dental records, the victims were identified as Julie Nay, nineteen, who was reported missing by family and friends to Pocketville police in 2012 and Tegan Rolk, reported missing in 2013. Both bodies have been sent to the medical examiner’s office.”

  “Well, hello to you, too,” I say.

  “Right. Sorry. How are you, Nora?”

  “I filed my charge today against Anton.” Agent Brown mutters a curse under her breath.

  “Sorry. I should learn better bedside manner. And remember dates. I thought that was happening later this week.”

  I snort and roll my eyes, but I am not upset. I have learned to understand Agent Brown’s mood swings and manners. “Yes, you should, but it’s okay. Any other news?”

  “We found traces of a sedative in the barn and rotten food in the cabin. They didn’t leave too long ago. We’ve put an extra detail on your house, Nora.”

  “That’s foolish. If he’s coming for me, it will be the Clarks that need the extra detail. His threat was to harm those I love. You shouldn’t underestimate that threat—I don’t.”

  Agent Brown sighs on the other end of the line. “Fine. But I want your schedule for this week.”

  “It’s just morning physical therapy. Oh, and I see Dr. Richardson Wednesday at noon.”

  “PT every morning?” Agent Brown asks.

  “Yes,” I answer.

  “Eve, what do you have going on? I don’t want to leave anything to chance.”

  Eve rattles off a few errands but other than that, we are both housebound. I hang up when Agent Brown is through rehashing all the safety tips she has for us. Eve goes to the living room and turns the TV back up. Within minutes, Aubry is sauntering in the back door. I suddenly feel overwhelmed with the day. With all the interactions and talking and people.

  “How are you?” she asks. Eve turns down the volume.

  I look at Aubry. There are circles under her eyes. She looks thinner too and her gorgeous hair isn’t coiffed to perfection.

  “I am alright. Anxious.”

  “About Anton?” She plops on the couch next to me.

  “No. Just anxious. Too much stimulation probably.”

  Eve mumbles that she’s going to run some errands, which is strange because she had just mentioned that she was going to lounge in front of the TV for the rest of the day. I give her a confused look but she only smiles and heads into the kitchen.

  “Me, too,” Aubry says, bringing my focus back to her. “Remember in high school when we had bad days?”

  I nod. “Clueless, popcorn salad and Legally Blonde.”

  Eve pokes her head in. “What the hell is popcorn salad?”

  “M&M’s mixed in a bowl with popcorn,” Aubry says, before laughing. “Sounds gross but it’s not.”

  “We have popcorn,” I say. “And the movies.”

  “I could use some down time. I’ll grab the candy.” Aubry claps at Eve’s suggestion.

  “Yes! This is exactly what I need,” she says.

  I stand and grin. It does sound . . . familiar and comforting. “I’ll get the popcorn going.”

  “I will dig out the DVD’s,” Aubry says.

  When Eve returns, we dump the two king sized bags of candy into the popcorn bowl and mix. The three of us lay on a bed of couch cushions on the living room floor, with all the blinds closed and spend our afternoon watching movies and pigging out. And my soul finally feels reposeful.

  Him

  Nora is at the police station. My nerves are on fire as I try to guess what she is telling them. She is flanked by the girl she sees most days, and Eve. I want to shout at her not to listen to the lies Eve has spewed at her about me. That Eve was nothing like her. That Eve meant nothing to me. She was not special like Nora. Hours later, an older woman follows behind a tall lanky boy who is being escorted by two police officers. The woman rushes to Nora’s friend and they embrace in a hug. I cannot see Nora or Eve. Something about the scene niggles at me. The woman knows the friend. The friend is close with No
ra. The boy is of similar age to Nora and her friend.

  Anton.

  The name comes at me with gale force. I grip the steering wheel so hard, that my knuckles go white. My teeth grind. I wait.

  And wait.

  And wait.

  It is dusk when they finally emerge. I follow Anton and the older woman when they leave the police station. She pulls into a driveway. When Anton steps out, she leans over the seat to say something to him. She looks somber and tearful. Anton slams the door shut, looking guilty, and the woman pulls away. I step out of the rental and stride across the street.

  “Hey,” I call out. “Anton?”

  The boy turns in the threshold of the house. He squints. “Do I know you?”

  I climb the three front steps and quickly look around. No one is on the street.

  “I’m Holden.” His brow wrinkles. “And you hurt something that’s mine.”

  Anton holds his hand up in defense. “I’m calling the cops.”

  I snicker. “Not today.” I push his chest quickly and hard. He stumbles into the house and I follow, kicking the door closed behind me.

  I hold my mother’s head under water. I blink back tears as she struggles, but wait, and wait, until she stops moving. Then I wait some more. Just to be sure. The river is cold this time of year. I shiver as I look down at her. Pulling myself to a standing position, I wait again, positive that Ma will magically pull her head out of the water, eyes—daggers, pointed at me. With my boot, I roll her body into the river. I watch for a moment as she begins to float away from me. Then, I turn and head for home to make sure Laura is alright.