When the Shadows Come

by Breck, Alyssa

  He’d enjoy rounding up all the deviants before they killed, but even with all the signs present, the police couldn’t go around locking up people because they might commit a crime. Unfortunately, people had to die first. Justice couldn’t be served until an injustice occurred.

  He lined up the pictures of the other victims. They were all young and pretty with dark hair and slim builds. The killer had a type, for sure.

  Nathan sipped his coffee that had gone cold, but he needed the caffeine. He was going over the other autopsy reports when his cell phone buzzed on the table.

  He answered and put it on speakerphone. “Claiborne.”

  “Hi. It’s Carolina.”

  “Hi. How are you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “What can I do for you?”

  She hesitated on the line. “Mallory came back last night.”

  The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and he sat up straight in his chair. “Okay. What did she say?”

  “She doesn’t remember everything that happened, but she says it’s coming back to her, like a dream, in bits and pieces. She gave me a description of the car he drives and a partial license plate.”

  Nathan scribbled down the information. “Anything else?”

  “No. That was all she told me.”

  “Thank you. This is very helpful. Please, let me know if you hear anything else.” After he hung up, he really started to contemplate the source of the information, but he didn’t really care where it came from. They needed something to grab onto. Something to work with or this guy was going to get away with it again.

  None of the prior leads had panned out. The other investigations had all just hit a wall. Until this guy somehow ended up with his DNA in the system, he’d keep evading capture, and, worse, he’d keep killing.

  Nathan passed the information along to the hungry junior detective in his division. The young man was building a list of cars that fit Carolina’s description with the partial plate and a list of cars with only the partial plate. The possibility existed that the license plate had been stolen and used on a car it didn’t belong to. It was a starting point but there was still a lot of work to do.

  He had a press conference scheduled at five. Someone had leaked to the media that Mallory might be the victim of a serial killer and Nathan’s boss was getting phone calls from local news stations and the governor. His feeling was that the leak came from one of the swing shift cops. Nathan had given them information at a squad meeting a few hours ago. No one else at the ASP had put two and two together, and he doubted that Singleton would have spilled the beans.

  Nathan hated talking to reporters but it was a necessary evil. Maybe if this guy knew they were on to him, he’d make a mistake. Then again, to make a mistake, he’d have to strike again and someone else would die.

  Lunch had passed Nathan by, but he planned to pick up something to eat after talking to the masses. Maybe he’d stop in at Cookie’s Tavern and have a drink. The last couple of days had been taxing, both emotionally and physically. He needed to unwind and perhaps this guy would revisit the scene of the crime.

  Chapter 6

  Typical of early spring in Central Arkansas, the rain came with a vengeance. Carolina soaked in a mango-scented bubble bath for an hour until her muscles were liquid and loose, and her fingers were puckered. She stoked the fireplace in her bedroom and picked out an old Stephen King paperback to read.

  She contemplated having a drink but decided to make a latte instead. She cradled the mug and walked back upstairs. She plumped her pillows and climbed onto the bed to read about the outcast girl with the telekinetic powers. Carolina identified with Carrie. The only difference was no one feared Carolina. She was just the harmless weirdo.

  She hadn’t seen Mallory in days and it had been over a month since anyone else had come to see her. On average, she saw two or three different ghosts a month. The longest stretch without a sighting had been three months, and Carolina thought that maybe her gift had finally ended. Then an older woman in a red and white checkered apron had appeared in her kitchen. Once it started up again, it usually kept a steady pace.

  The curtains were open in her room, and the storm raged outside. Carolina had always liked storms. She remembered, as a child, when her dad would take her outside when it stormed. She’d sit on his lap and watch the lightning then count the seconds before the thunder rumbled. Then she’d know how close the eye of the storm was.

  “Daddy?” She’d leaned back and looked up into his face.

  He smiled and crinkles had formed around his blue eyes. “Yes, honey?” The five o’clock shadow wrapped around his jaw.

  “What happens if lightning hits you?”

  He twirled a tendril of her hair around his finger. “Well, it would be really bad if lightning hit a person. It’s very hot and full of electricity. Most people would die.”

  “That’s scary.”

  “Yep. That’s why we stay on the covered porch to watch. It’s dangerous.”

  The loud crack of thunder pulled her out of the memory. Days like these, she missed her dad the most. She still hadn’t resigned herself to the fact that she’d never see him again.

  Nathan had been on the news with the local PD after the coroner released Mallory’s body. Mallory was right, whoever killed her had done it before and now the heat was on for the police to stop him before he did it again.

  The sound of the rain hitting her windows lulled her and she slept.

  AT BREAKFAST, MALLORY sat on the stool facing the bar.

  Carolina reached into the cabinet for the teabags. “Where have you been?” She placed the kettle on the stove and turned on the fire.

  “I don’t really know how to answer that.”

  “Where do you go when you’re not here?” Carolina unwrapped a teabag and dropped it into a mug.

  “Sometimes it feels like I’m just asleep. Sometimes, I hang out at my mom’s house. Nobody sees me there. She’s so sad. I wish I could help her.”

  “I don’t know if anything could help her.” Carolina shook her head. “I can’t imagine what she’s going through.”

  “She cries a lot. Sits in my room. It’s like her life is on hold.”

  “I’m sure it is.”

  The teapot whistled, and Carolina poured the steaming water into the cup.

  Mallory cleared her throat and sat up straight. “Anyway, have I missed anything?”

  “Not really.” Carolina studied Mallory’s face. She had skin as clear as a porcelain doll. “Can I paint you?”

  “What?”

  “Can I paint a portrait of you? You’re stunning. The way the light plays on your face and shadows some features with others.”

  Mallory smiled. “Thank you. And, yeah, I guess you can.”

  “I could give it to your folks when I’m done.”

  “I didn’t know you painted. The paintings in the room upstairs, did you do those?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you show them to me?”

  “Sure. I figured you’d already looked through them though.”

  “I saw the ones near the door, but I wouldn’t rifle through your things like that.” Mallory ran her hand through her hair. “We’re friends.”

  Carolina smiled. “Yes ... I suppose we are.”

  “OKAY, TURN YOUR HEAD a little to the left.” Carolina poised her charcoal pencil over the blank canvas.

  Mallory shifted on the chaise lounge in the library. “How’s this?”

  “Perfect.” Carolina began sketching an outline of Mallory’s face. She penciled in wisps of hair that touched her face and fell past her shoulders. She drew the background, the books and the Tiffany lamp. She even sketched a portion of the Persian rug.

  Mallory sat still and looked toward the window. The light shining in gave her an ethereal glow.

  Satisfied with her outline, Carolina tucked her hair behind her ear and made the first brush stroke. A lump formed in her throat as she gave life to
the girl in the picture; the dead girl reclining on the leather couch wearing a summer dress.

  Time stood still whenever Carolina painted and it had been awhile since she’d painted a specific subject. She caught the light just right and she had to pause, a tear slipping down her cheek. She fought the emotion, she didn’t like anyone to see her like this which is why she never used live subjects. Mallory was the exception and, technically, she wasn’t alive.

  “Are you okay?” Mallory asked.

  Carolina used the back of her hand to wipe her eyes. “Yes, I’m fine. It’s always emotional for me when I paint.”

  “Can I see?” Mallory stood up.

  Carolina didn’t normally let anyone see her works in progress, but she conceded. “Okay.”

  Mallory walked around behind Carolina and gasped. “Oh, wow. It looks like a photograph.”

  “Thank you.” Carolina continued to paint.

  “I need a favor,” Mallory asked.

  “What is it?”

  “My funeral is coming up. Will you go?”

  “Why? Nobody will care if I’m there.”

  Mallory cocked her head to the side. “I care. I want you there.”

  Carolina smiled. “Well, all right. I’ll go then. For you.”

  Douglas trotted into the room and sniffed the air. He growled and then barked in Mallory’s direction.

  “It’s okay, Doug. You should recognize Mallory by now.” Carolina set down her brush and scooped up the little dog.

  CAROLINA CLIMBED THE stairs to the chapel and found a seat in an empty pew near the rear. She stared at the light blue casket surrounded by sprays of flowers and pushed away the thought of what the box contained.

  “Hey.”

  Carolina looked over her shoulder. “I was wondering where you were.”

  Mallory took a seat beside Carolina. “What do you think of my casket?”

  “It’s pretty.”

  “I think so, too. That’s my mother’s favorite shade of blue.”

  “Looks like a good turn out.” The service wouldn’t start for another fifteen minutes but it was already standing room only.

  “Most of these people didn’t like me. They’re only here because I was on the news or they want to gawk at my family grieving. It’s kind of gross. Super detective man is here though.”

  “He is?” Carolina looked around.

  “He’s still outside in his car.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  The sad organ music that had been playing stopped and a man in a black blazer approached the pulpit

  “Here we go.” Mallory smiled.

  Just as the man began to speak, Carolina spotted Nathan taking a seat on the opposite side of the chapel.

  The service was short and sweet and mostly bullshit. Mallory told Carolina that she had no idea who the man was who spoke of Mallory as if she were a saint. Even Mallory knew that was a load of crap.

  As they all filed outside, Mallory stayed close to Carolina and Carolina kept her eye on Nathan. He smiled at her but didn’t speak.

  Several anchors from various news stations had set up their cameras about ten yards down the sidewalk. Mallory was still the hottest news.

  The crowd separated to make room for the pallbearers who carried Mallory’s casket down the stairs toward the hearse waiting at the curb.

  One of the ushers instructed the mourners to start walking out toward the gravesite for the final blessing and interment.

  “Oh, my God ...” Mallory’s voice cracked.

  “What?” Carolina looked at her friend.

  “He’s here.” Her tone was panicked and her hands shook.

  “Who’s here?” Carolina asked.

  “Him.”

  “You mean the killer?” Carolina’s stomach dropped, and she thought she might throw up. “Where?”

  “He was right there,” Mallory said, pointing at the crowd.

  “Come on,” Carolina said, looking for Nathan. She found him standing a distance away from the group now crossing the street. Making sure Mallory was keeping pace, Carolina touched Nathan’s arm.

  “Carolina. How are you?” Nathan asked casually.

  She leaned close to him. “Mallory is with me. She said he’s here. The killer is here.”

  Nathan took off his sunglasses. “Where is he?”

  Mallory looked frantically. “I don’t see him now.”

  “She said she doesn’t see him now.”

  “Ask her what he looks like,” Nathan instructed.

  “He’s about six foot. He has brown hair and he’s wearing a black suit.”

  Carolina related Mallory’s description to Nathan.

  He raised an eyebrow. “She just described seventy-five percent of the men here, including myself.”

  “I know, I know,” Carolina said. She turned to Mallory. “Can you be more specific?”

  Mallory shook her head. “No. I think he’s gone.”

  “She thinks he’s gone,” Carolina repeated.

  “Shit,” Nathan hissed. He looked past Carolina. “I have an idea.”

  “What?”

  “After the funeral, I’m going to get a hold of the footage the news cameras recorded. Then the three of us are going to sit down and watch it, frame by frame, and see if Mallory can point him out.”

  Chapter 7

  He kept his sunglasses on and watched the cop climb the stairs. He recognized him from the news. He wasn’t as stupid as they all seemed to think he was. In his black suit, white shirt and blue tie, he fit in with the crowd. He’d even shined his shoes and shaved his face. More effort than the dead cunt deserved, but he looked like every other guy there. He hadn’t wanted to stand out. In fact, his anonymity and ability to fly under the radar had been his best strategy.

  A shiny coffin sat front and center just ahead of the podium. She was lying in that closed casket because she was a bitch. An elderly woman sat beside him and smiled and nodded at him. He smiled back at her and scooted over to make room.

  He sat in the back of the chapel and listened to everyone talk about the whore like she was some kind of angel.

  Please.

  He attended all the funerals of his victims and split town shortly after. Funerals were stupid. No matter how despised a person was while alive, everyone found something good to say about them after they met their maker. It was pointless. All these idiots trying to make each other feel better.

  “Don’t speak ill of the dead. You’ll go to hell,” his mother barked at him in the car on the way to his grandfather’s memorial service.

  He had rolled his eyes at her and hoped the service would be short so he could get back to his comic books. He didn’t really give a shit that the bastard had kicked the bucket. That old man never said a kind word to him.

  Coming back to the present, he bent the corner of the funeral announcement and stared at her picture. The smile plastered on her face was fake and overdone. Everything about her was phony, too perfect. From her hair to her tits to the gaudy pink toenail polish she wore, she wasn’t real, just a counterfeit copy of a woman. His mind wandered back to that night. He started to get hard remembering being inside her and then squeezing the fucking life out of her. She was little more than a blowup doll to him.

  From where he sat in the chapel, he noticed a cute blonde who appeared to be muttering to the empty spot beside her. People were crazier than shithouse rats in this town. He would be moving along soon, thank God.

  Dennis couldn’t stop staring at her. He would look away and then back again. He couldn’t help it. She wore black wire-framed glasses, and her hair hung loosely over her shoulders. Now, she was the kind of girl he would take out and buy dinner. Maybe check out a movie at the theater. She was worthy of more than a one-dollar rental. Then he’d fuck her nicely without any duct tape or choking.

  He looked up at the guy at the podium, though he couldn’t concentrate on what the man said anymore. The words sounded the way all the adults talked in the Peanuts cartoons.


  Wawah wawah wawah.

  He opted not to offer his condolences to the family. Instead, he stood and walked outside just ahead of the other mourners. He made an effort to stay close to groups of people to blend in but not so close that they would be suspicious of him. As they started separating and walking toward the burial site, he made his way toward his car. He started the engine and turned on the air conditioner and watched them drop the blue box into the hole.

  Her second burial was much more dignified than the first.

  NATHAN PERSONALLY CALLED each of the news agencies that had been at Mallory’s funeral, and he now had three digital files containing the footage each had recorded. He hadn’t bothered to watch them on his own since he had no idea who he was looking for.

  He keyed in Carolina’s phone number and waited for her to answer.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, it’s Nathan.”

  “I know.”

  “I have the footage from the news crews. I wondered when we could get together with Mallory to look it over.”

  Carolina cleared her throat. “Well, she’s here now.”

  Nathan’s adrenaline spiked. “Ask her to stay put. I’m on my way.”

  Inside an hour, he drove to Carolina’s house and popped the first video up on his laptop. “The station told me that the cameraman had his camera set up on a tripod and running the entire time. Hopefully, Mallory will see him.”

  The footage played and Carolina watched the screen and repeatedly looked to her left where he assumed Mallory would be sitting.

  “Has she said anything?” Nathan asked.