Deadly Silence

by Mary Stone

  Sometimes he wondered why he was even bothering. He wasn’t the one who was cheating—maybe—after only a few months of marriage. He was still trying to make things work. But Kylie? He had no idea.

  Now, as he lay flat on his back on the couch downstairs, with his feet hanging over the arm, he stared up at the ceiling as the first rays of morning sunlight filtered through the windows. He was wondering one thing: Who?

  Who was he? Who was the man who might have romanced Kylie out from underneath him? They’d spent so much time together, he didn’t think there was time to find anyone else. She’d gone on a few client appointments, she went shopping by herself, and sometimes she went to see her mom, but when had she had a chance to meet this asshole?

  He didn’t know who he was, but he hated him. He wanted to punch his fist through his head for touching his wife.

  Maybe?

  He stuffed his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t punch anything close.

  Next to him, the dogs started to line up to go outside.

  He let out a heavy sigh.

  He couldn’t live like this.

  Maybe he should’ve told Jacob the truth. Marriage wasn’t at all what he’d thought it would be. He thought tying the knot would bring him closer to Kylie. They’d have a family and grow old together. Now, it was like everything was falling apart.

  A few minutes later, Linc heard the pipes creaking in the walls.

  She was up, taking a shower in the upstairs bath.

  He thought of how much she loved that bathroom the first time she’d seen it. She’d marveled at how cavernous the claw-foot tub was, remarked at how dainty and cute the farmhouse plaid curtains were.

  It was his grandparents’ house. His grandfather had built it board by board when he was only about twenty himself. But Linc had always helped out on the farm, so when they died, they’d left the place to him. He loved it. Loved every creak and moan the old house made.

  But most of all, he loved the times he’d spent with Kylie. She was what had completed it for him. Those long summer nights they’d spent together, in that big tub, in the candlelight. The nights they’d spent playing chess by firelight, face to face in this very room, the board between them. He’d always beat her, say checkmate, and then she’d toss the board to the floor and tackle him.

  He thought this was where he and Kylie would grow old together, just like his grandparents did. They’d talked about it before. Being an old couple, holding hands on the front porch.

  Now, looking at the orange morning sunlight slashing over the walls, he wondered if she’d just been lying all this time.

  Dammit it to hell.

  He sat up, shaking the thoughts away. He had a lot to do to prepare for another seminar he was doing later this week, and he couldn’t afford to slack right now.

  Wiping his eyes, he adjusted his boxers as he stood and walked to the back door. He pushed it open, letting the menagerie of dogs tumble out.

  In about five minutes, they’d all come back, expecting breakfast. Linc went to get it from the big tub that he kept under one of the cabinets, but realized it was almost empty. Kylie had probably fed them last time and forgotten to remind him to refill it from the extra supply, which he kept in the outdoor shed.

  Just great.

  Yawning, he went to take the keys off the hook at the front of the house. He felt the peg with his hand, first one from the left, where he always kept them. No keys.

  They were missing.

  Kylie.

  He knew it was her. She always did things like that. She’d never put the milk back in the same place she took it from in the fridge. She’d never close drawers all the way. Where Linc ran his home with the type of precision he’d learned in the army, she’d always ascribed to a more chaotic style of living.

  He looked around, at a loss where to even start looking.

  This day had only started, but already it just kept getting better and better. Really. What other wonders lay in store? For a moment, he considered going back to bed.

  Then he went to their desks. His was perfectly arranged, with everything placed at exact angles to everything else. His stapler was a fraction of an inch crooked; he corrected that.

  He looked over at Kylie’s and a sick feeling came over him.

  If their house was a bomb site, Kylie’s desk was ground zero. In fact, it was hard to even tell there was a desk under it, so covered was the whole thing with papers. He went around to where her chair was and frowned at an empty Snickers wrapper lying crumpled about two feet away from a trash can. That was another Kylie-thing. She never threw anything away properly.

  He moved stuff around gently, hoping she wouldn’t notice, and gradually uncovered a framed photograph of them on their wedding day.

  He stopped to look at the picture, taken while they were dancing at their reception, under the big tent they’d erected right on the grounds of the property. They looked younger, somehow. Their smiles had been so bright. Hell, they’d been so happy. Was it possible that it had only been in May? A few months ago?

  When he set it down, his eyes fell on something else.

  He recognized it as the list that Jacob had given him; the one with all the missing children on it. But it was different now.

  He pulled it out from under an avalanche of papers and discovered that in addition to a few coffee stains, there were also signs that she’d been looking into the names. And not casually, either. There were volumes of notes, written in different colors, things crossed out, lines connecting some of the names, question marks…

  So, was that what she’d been doing for the past five days?

  He knew she hated him being overprotective, but this was serious business. He wished she’d just stick to those boring cases for Impact. If she did enough digging on this, she could find herself in a hell of a lot of trouble.

  But he couldn’t tell her that now.

  For a moment, he thought about hiding the list somewhere she couldn’t find it. His eyes even darted around wildly, trying to locate a suitable hiding place.

  But then they fell upon the staircase.

  Where Kylie was standing, arms crossed, staring daggers at him.

  She’d never scared him before. He was army, and she was a funny, clumsy, cute girl. But now, the sneer on her face? He felt like she’d transformed into the Hyde version of herself. He was dangerously close to being scared of his wife. So he did the only thing he could do.

  He dropped the papers and backed away from the desk.

  As he did, he noticed the key he’d been looking for. He scooped it into his palm and said, “This was what I was looking for.”

  She clomped down the stairs, all dressed and ready to start the day, though her hair was still wet and hanging loose on her shoulders. She didn’t look at him as she walked to the desk and snatched up the papers.

  And she didn’t say a word.

  She grabbed her briefcase, the one she used for meetings, and piled the list and a few other things into it.

  Then, still totally silent, she hoisted the bag onto her shoulder and went outside to her car. He heard the ignition start, and the sound of the Jeep driving away from the house.

  Out back, the dogs were scratching and whimpering, waiting to be let in. He quickly rushed ahead and let them all in, then went and grabbed the last bit of food from the tub, filling their bowls as much as he could.

  Then he ran upstairs, threw on some shorts, a t-shirt, and his work boots.

  As he rushed back down the stairs, Storm was waiting for him. She knew something was up.

  “Come on, girl,” he said to her, opening the door. “Something’s going on. Let’s go check on Kylie.”

  15

  From the time Kylie was a little child, her teachers had always said the same thing about her. They’d said it in different ways, some of them seeing it more as a virtue than others, but they’d all agreed more or less: Kylie had the gift of gab.

  She befriended everyone. She spoke to
strangers without hesitation. Sometimes, she’d go through her day talking to no one in particular.

  So this? Being silent? Going through the day as if she had absolutely nothing to say?

  It was the hardest thing Kylie had ever done.

  Her tongue was practically bitten through from all the times she’d had to hold it. Somehow, she’d managed this for five whole days, which was far beyond her previous record of only a couple of hours.

  But it wasn’t just talking that she missed.

  No. She missed Linc. So desperately that, at night, when she’d cuddle against a pillow in the big bed they shared, she’d find herself crying until she fell asleep. He may have been a bit of a helicopter husband, but he was also her best friend.

  Every time she thought that she’d break her silence because she couldn’t stand it anymore, she’d remember that, if she spoke to him, he’d likely try to put the shackles on her and stop her from investigating the Elise Kirby case. And she needed to. The more she dug, the more she felt like she couldn’t give it up.

  She had to admit that, though she hadn’t wanted Linc trying to take over the case, his idea of getting that list from Jacob had been a godsend. It was, really, all the leads she had going for her now. She planned on going through the list, one by one, until she found some connection.

  Today, she was heading out to meet one Allison Simmons, who lived in the Asheville area and believed her baby had been kidnapped back in the nineties. When Kylie had spoken to her over the phone, all the pieces had clicked. The woman had been poor and hadn’t had any family. She’d given birth to a healthy baby but had been told later on that the baby had passed. She’d been so upset and hadn’t known to ask the right questions. To Kylie, it seemed like a good option, even if the two cases had happened decades apart.

  But as she drove farther and farther away from the farmhouse, she felt worse and worse. She was getting another headache, probably from all the crying she’d done last night. She’d managed to make a dent in all the work for Impact Insurance, and yet it had only served to show her how hopelessly far behind she was. It was probably a good thing she wasn’t talking to Linc. It’d only put her even more behind the eight-ball if she had him to distract her.

  She still missed him. As much as he annoyed her sometimes, right now, she longed for the distraction. She longed for him. The good Linc, which he was ninety-nine percent of the time. It was the bad Linc…the overbearing and suffocating part of his nature, that had her afraid of trusting him completely with the secrets she carried in her heart.

  After she parked, she looked around, and an eerie feeling settled over her as she realized exactly what this place was. It was under new ownership, but she’d been here before. She’d gone to meet a potential witness in an art forgery and embezzlement case, but the witness had never shown up.

  When Kylie had gone back to her car, she’d found the man slumped over the steering wheel of his car, shot in the back of the head.

  Her teeth chattered as she stepped out of the car, and she clenched her jaw to keep them quiet. It was daylight, so the place was swarming with people, which should’ve made her feel safe. But as she walked to the front door, she still couldn’t fight the strange feeling gripping her. She felt sickly, shivery, almost dizzy.

  Then she opened the door and the smell of coffee hit her.

  She was going to be sick.

  Breathing shallowly, she went to the counter and ordered a Danish and a bottle of seltzer. Once she collected her breakfast, she decided she needed fresh air. Since it was a nice day, she went and found a small table outside on the sidewalk.

  As she sat there, she took her file out of her bag and looked through it. Every time someone went into the café, she wondered if that person was Allison. She didn’t have a picture but expected a woman in her late thirties, since she’d said she was a teen when she had the child. But no one seemed to fit that description.

  Time slipped by, and the day got hotter. Kylie fanned her face as she studied the list, wondering which of the next few people she should contact. There was a woman not far away in East Tennessee, and another who lived close to Atlanta. It’d be a haul, but Kylie felt confident that one little detail connecting the cases might be all she needed to blow the case wide open.

  Someone must know something. She needed to call them all. Start from the beginning.

  As she continued to fan herself, she dialed up the first number from a case in Staunton, Virginia. The man, Alfred Hastings, had contacted the police because he thought the death of his wife might be related to the disappearance of a child she’d been a midwife for, a child belonging to a woman named Renee Best. The police had investigated and found no such connection, but poor Patricia Hastings had been shot, point blank, in the chest.

  Had Patricia Hastings gotten too close to this kidnapping ring and someone had come after her? Maybe Linc was right, being concerned about Kylie’s safety. After all, anyone willing to steal a baby probably wouldn’t have any issue with murder to cover their tracks.

  But the phone blared in her ear, coming up as disconnected.

  Then she reread the file and realized that the case was from 1975. If Al Hastings was still alive, he’d be nearly ninety by now. And would he actually be able to remember something that happened so long ago?

  Ending the call, she sighed. On to the next. She called a few more, all of them dead ends.

  The next thing she knew, she looked at her phone and realized Allison was a half-hour late.

  Now more than ever, the thought of that witness from the art embezzlement case hung in her mind. Had someone gotten to Allison, the way they’d gotten to him? She pictured the man, his body pressed up against the steering wheel, his dead eyes. Her stomach clenched at the thought. And now, here she was, a sitting target right here on the sidewalk.

  Standing, she crept toward the edge of the brick building, feeling silly as a couple walked by, hand-in-hand, and eyed her curiously. The man threw a casual, “What’s up?” at her as birds twittered in the tree above.

  Kylie peered around the building, scanning the parking area. All she saw were cars, her own included, lined up, and a well-dressed man and a woman kissing each other goodbye.

  She shook her head. She was being stupid. It was broad daylight. A killer would have to have a lot of nerve to attack her now.

  She whirled and realized she’d left her phone on the table. As she picked it up, it buzzed with a message. It was from Allison. Sorry for the late notice. Couldn’t get out of work. Can we reschedule?

  Sighing with relief, she typed in: Sure. Tomorrow?

  When she looked up from her phone, she spotted it across the street, just sitting there in a bank’s parking lot.

  A familiar pickup truck.

  One that looked exactly like Linc’s.

  And she couldn’t mistake the silhouette of the broad-shouldered man sitting in the driver’s seat, wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap. Or the German Shepherd sitting patiently by his side.

  “Damn him,” she muttered under her breath.

  So, even when they were fighting, he felt the need to follow her? Or did he really think he’d catch her having a rendezvous with some mysterious stranger? She knew she shouldn’t have said that, that it would just throw his jealous streak into overdrive, but she’d been at her wit’s end. Was this what he’d been doing all the time she thought he was giving her space? Following her at a safe distance and playing her shadow?

  Grabbing her bag, she ran between two parked cars on the street, hurrying through the early morning traffic. She leapt onto the curb and came up close to his window, which was open. “Really?” she yelled. “What do you think you’re doing? Following me?” After so long of not talking, it felt good to shout.

  He looked around uncomfortably. Never one to make a scene. “Kylie, I—”

  “Don’t. I don’t want to hear how I’m overreacting. This…” She waved at his truck. “This is what drives me crazy about you! You don’t t
rust that I know how to take care of myself!”

  He held up his hands. “Can we just go home and talk this—”

  “No! I don’t want to go anywhere with you! I want you to just leave me alone. Why are you here?”

  He dragged a hand down his face. “Why am I here? Because I love you!” he said in a voice so loud Kylie took a step back, shocked. “Because whatever you’re doing, I know it’s my fault. I’m fouling things up, but I can’t lose you. Tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it. If you want me to leave you alone and give you more space, I will. I promise. Just tell me you won’t leave me. Okay?”

  She stood there, stricken, her heart slowly thawing. He was normally so quiet, rarely emotional. And now he looked like he was truly going to have a breakdown. The devastation was so complete on his face, she’d never seen anything sadder.

  She put her hands on the window.

  “There isn’t anyone else,” she said softly. “Well, not in the way you’re thinking.”

  His eyes snapped to her. “What does that mean?”

  She let out a laugh, about to tell him the news. But the second she did, she felt a massive cramp in her abdomen and doubled over. As she clutched herself, there was a rush of warm fluid between her legs. Her heart started to pound as Linc’s voice echoed in her ears. “What’s wrong?”

  She couldn’t bring herself to speak, she was so afraid. She was vaguely aware of the door of the truck opening and Linc’s arm wrapping around her.

  Around her, the world swirled and blurred. Everything in her vision went white. As he lifted her into his arms, she managed to get out one word, “Hospital.”

  16

  Two hours after Linc brought Kylie into Asheville General Hospital, he sat in the waiting room, nursing his third cup of coffee and fidgeting. He’d managed to get Jacob to come and take care of Storm, so he wouldn’t have to worry about her, but he still had plenty to worry about.