“Mallory?”
“She’s the pretty one with the black hair, right?”
“Yes. I don’t know where she is right now.”
“I like her.”
“I like her, too. Where do you go when you’re not here with me?” Carolina asked. She was hoping for a more definitive answer than Mallory had given her.
“The hospital. My bedroom. That’s about it.”
“Nowhere else?”
“No.” Gabriel shook his head. “Can we go outside?”
“Sure.” She stood and straightened her shirt.
He reached for her hand, and she felt a cold breeze on her palm, like the wind before a snowstorm.
She really wished she could squeeze his little hand or hug him or ruffle his brown hair, offer some kind of comfort and in the process she’d comfort herself.
CAROLINA MADE COFFEE while Gabriel sat on the back porch with Stellaluna. She listened to him sing Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. Her heart was heavy. She’d never understood why children died before they had a chance to really live or why people were tortured and murdered. If there was a God, why would he allow these things to happen? Mallory had prayed for help while she was being violated and then strangled and nothing divine had happened. She died wondering if there was really any point to praying.
The clouds moved over the sun and the room darkened. The shadow settled above her cabinets prompting her to look out on Gabriel. The little boy lay on his stomach facing Stellaluna and talking to her quietly now. Carolina couldn’t hear the conversation, but his face was very serious, as if he were explaining something of dire importance to the goat.
Carolina poured a cup of coffee and walked out on the patio just in time to see the man crossing the clearing. She knew he was coming for Gabriel and a part of her wanted to scoop the child up and keep him, but it wasn’t her place to interfere.
Gabriel sat up and tilted his head. “He’s coming.” He looked up at her.
“Yes. It must be time for you to go.”
The little boy stood up and tucked his shirt into his pants like he was growing up in that instance. He smiled. “He’s an angel. Angels don’t really have wings like in the movies, that’s all make-believe.”
She laughed quietly even though his loss of innocence made her sad. Gabe was learning the hard truths way before anyone should have to. “Yes, that’s what I’ve heard. Are you okay? You’re ready?”
“I think so. I think I get to fly with him. That will be cool. Really cool. Angels are like Superman.”
The man in the black suit stopped walking and motioned with his arm.
Gabriel touched Carolina’s hand again, but it was a warmer sensation than before. “I’ll see ya’ later, okay?” He bounded down the stairs and ran to the man.
The angel took his hand and turned around. They walked off and vanished in the field of tall grass and dandelions.
Carolina sat on the porch and tried not to cry. On one hand, she was happy that Gabe was no longer confused and trapped, but she had become attached to him. It seemed like she helped everyone else find resolution, and she was left with all these holes in return. Nobody could help her.
She heard a car and stood up. Carolina wasn’t expecting anyone, but Nathan showed up occasionally unannounced, and she found herself hoping it was him. Walking around the side of the house, she spotted the white utility van.
A young man sat behind the wheel with a clipboard. He looked up and smiled at her and climbed out of the van. He slid the side door open and retrieved an elaborate bouquet of flowers.
Carolina shaded her eyes with her hand.
He didn’t remove his sunglasses and looked at his clipboard. “Are you Miss Sinclair?”
She smiled. “Yes.”
“Delivery for you, ma’am.”
“Wow. This is a huge arrangement.”
“Can I carry it inside for you?”
“Uh, sure.” She turned around and walked back toward the house. She held the front door open for him and then led him to the kitchen. “You can put them on the dining table. Thank you.”
Placing the vase on the table, he turned to Carolina. “I just need you to sign right here.” He handed her the clipboard and pointed to a black “X” on the sheet of lined paper.
She jotted her signature and handed it back.
He looked around. “Nice place you have.”
“Thank you.”
He lingered for a moment longer. “Well, you have a nice day, ma’am.”
“You do the same,” she said and watched him walk out. Returning to the table, she plucked the card out of the center of the bouquet.
The card read: Happy Birthday! Love, Aunt Mimi.
She smiled to herself and then laughed. She’d forgotten it was her birthday. Every year her recluse great aunt sent her flowers. Beyond that, they didn’t talk much. The last time she’d seen Aunt Mimi was at Carolina’s dad’s funeral.
Leaning forward, she sniffed the center of a white rose. The strong scent tickled her nose and she sneezed.
The colors were perfect. White and pink roses and yellow daisies, bluebonnets and red lilies. The vase was clear glass with a large lavender bow tied neatly around the top.
Sitting down at the table, she stared at the flowers. It didn’t seem fair that she had another year under her belt and Gabriel was gone.
HE SAT IN THE VAN FOR a moment and watched the house. Nice digs for a young woman. He wondered who she lived with. No way she had this place all to herself. What luck he had, making a delivery to the cute, little blonde from the whore’s funeral. His heart raced when he crossed the threshold of her home, and he thought how easily he could have taken what he wanted and killed her. He liked her though. That posed a problem. Much harder to kill someone you’re fond of and it was her birthday. His gift to her would be that he didn’t end her life. Although it would be cool to die on the same day she was born.
Up close, she had the face of a doll, heart-shaped with a straight nose and pink, pouty lips. She hadn’t worn makeup and didn’t really need it. He had watched her legs climb the stairs to the porch. He wasn’t supposed to, but he’d read the card. That’s how he knew it was her birthday.
Backing up the van, he drove down the long road leading away from her house. The location was great. Her house sat way back from the street and was isolated. No nosy neighbors. He began formulating a way to come back and see her. Maybe she would be the one that could make him stop. He always told himself when he found the perfect girl, he’d be able stop killing. The void could be filled with something besides hate. Although feeding the hate was gratifying. He couldn’t deny that.
He imagined himself on top of her, kissing her, burying his cock inside her. He pictured her face twisted in the throes of passion while she moaned and begged him not to stop. Tiny beads of sweat would pepper her hairline. He would squeeze her boobs and pinch her nipples. His pants became uncomfortably tight around his erection, and he fought the urge to turn the van around and go back to her. But she was different.
You need to do this right, Dennis.
The white, scoop-neck T-shirt she wore left little to the imagination. She had fantastic tits and a tight little ass with wide hips.
Wide hips made perfectly for bearing children.
She would make pretty babies. He could reinvent himself with someone like her. Move away where no one knew them. A fresh start.
He could do that. He could stop, especially if he had kids. She could save him. Carolina Sinclair could save him.
“NICE FLOWERS. WHO’RE they from?” Mallory appeared in a chair at the table while Carolina dropped a handful of dry spaghetti into a pot of boiling water.
“They are pretty, huh? They’re from my dad’s sister. It’s my birthday today.”
“Oh, happy birthday.” Mallory smiled. “Twenty-six? Twenty-seven?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“Nice. Are you doing anything fun? Maybe see the hot detective guy?”
“He’s only hot for any leads I can give him.” Carolina used a wooden spoon to stir the pasta. “Gabriel died today. His parents finally took him off the machines. Kind of puts a damper on any want to celebrate.”
Mallory shook her head. “He was a great little boy. Are you okay?”
Carolina nodded. “Yeah. It was hard to watch him go, but he looked so relieved when the angel showed up. He was excited to fly. I waited until he left to cry. I didn’t want him to feel bad about me. He’s already feeling bad about his parents.”
“Nobody blames you for feeling something, Carolina.”
A tear spilled down her cheek. “He played the violin for me.” She slammed her fist on the counter. “Damn it. I’m going to miss him, and I only knew him for a few days.”
“Maybe you’ll have a couple kids of your own someday,” Mallory said.
“Maybe. Once I find the right person. Dating is like playing Russian Roulette these days.” The lie was like acid on her tongue. There would be no children in her future, not biological children anyway. A tumor in her uterus had necessitated a partial hysterectomy when she was twenty. Her father had told her not to worry, that she could adopt. There were lots of kids needing a good home.
“You’ll be a great mom. I’m sure of that.”
“Thanks, Mal.” Carolina smiled at the ghost she didn’t think she could stand to lose. She’d never been so personally involved with one before.
Mallory looked out the window toward the field where Gabriel had vanished.
Carolina sat down across from her. “Is it selfish that I wish you wouldn’t have to leave?”
“You’re the most unselfish person I know.” Mallory smiled.
“That’s not true. I haven’t had a choice to be selfish. I don’t have control over any of this.”
“Do you wish it would stop?” Mallory tilted her head. “The ghosts coming to you like this?”
“Sometimes, yes. Sometimes, no. It’s always been this way. It’s all I know.” She slipped on a pair of oven mitts and poured the pasta into a strainer in the sink.
“Has he said anything about the picture you drew?”
Carolina sat back down with a bowl of spaghetti and a fork. Nathan hadn’t returned her call about the sketch of the killer. She was sure he had other cases to work and when he had time, he’d get back to her. “Nothing yet. I’m sure he’s been busy.”
“I’m already old news. It’s always like that. Leading story for the first day or two. Then it’s the third story or the last story. Then it just fades away until Unsolved Mysteries does a thirty-minute spotlight on you.”
“Don’t lose hope. They’ll catch him.”
Chapter 10
He watched her climb out of her car and walk across the parking lot. A breeze caught her skirt and plastered it against her legs and her hair flitted and lifted. Carolina looked over her shoulder and clutched her purse. He didn’t like the big sunglasses she wore. They covered most of her face and made her look like a fly.
There was no rhyme or reason to her schedule. She came and went at odd times and didn’t appear to have a job. Maybe she worked from home. The big guy who drove the Dodge had been at her a house a couple of times. He wondered if the cop was fucking her. That would be unethical. But who could blame him. If Dennis had a badge he’d certainly use it to get as much pussy as he could. He imagined women threw themselves at the detective. Most of them were whores anyway.
He unlocked the door to his apartment and dropped the keys on the counter in the kitchen. Thanks to the internet, it wasn’t too hard to find information about people. Even pictures. That first night, he had searched her and found her high school graduation picture. Her grandparents had put an announcement in the newspaper. He saved the picture of the smiling girl in the blue cap and gown. Pretty. He wanted to print it out but his printer sucked. He saved the image to a flash drive. He’d print it out at Walmart. Make a small sized one to put in his wallet.
He sat on the couch and drank a beer while flipping through channels. Nothing good was on. He crossed his ankles on the coffee table and wiggled his toes. He would have to move on soon and he wanted her with him. Needed her with him. He had to form a plan to make it happen.
FROM HIS POSITION IN the woods, Dennis watched her on the back porch of her house. He’d parked his van in a thick copse of pines and hiked in about a mile to find the perfect spot. He adjusted the focus of his binoculars on her.
She sipped something from a green mug and played with her hair, twirling it around her fingers and letting it loose and then repeating the same motion over and over. He looked at her fingers. Her nails were short and without polish. Fuzzy pink slippers covered her feet. He committed details about her to memory.
The little dog sat up on the top step and glared toward the forest. Its ears shot up in alert.
He was too far away to hear if the dog growled or not, but he wondered if the mutt saw him or sensed him. He’d be in trouble if anyone discovered him out there. It was almost dark, so he couldn’t really say he was bird watching. Dressed in dark clothing, he was certain his concealment was solid.
A white goat trotted over to Carolina and she rubbed its head. Who the fuck had a pet goat like that? She would need some training to fit his purpose. No dog, no goat. She’d be too busy raising his babies.
He’d only had a sister, no brothers. At times, he wished there had been others. Maybe if he’d had a brother, together they could have protected his sister. He pounded his forehead with the palm of his hand. The pain started there and slowly overtook his head. Sometimes, if he whacked himself, it would go away before it got too bad.
His sister left home right after graduation and no one saw her again. Last he heard, she was married and living in New York. Good for her. She was a nice girl. She wasn’t pure after what their stepfather did to her but she obviously found someone willing to accept her anyway. He missed her sometimes but it didn’t last long. Maybe after he and Carolina got married, he’d call her. They could take a road trip to New York and spend some time with his sister and her family. Yes, that would be nice.
Lowering the binoculars, he imagined his sister and Carolina in the kitchen, making spaghetti or kneading dough for rolls like his mother used to make. He pictured them doing women’s work. He would be out back with his brother-in-law, drinking beer and watching the kids play on the swing set. It would be perfect.
A snapping twig pulled him out of his fantasy. He whipped his head around to see who or what had made the noise. He didn’t see anything and returned his attention to Carolina.
HE TRAILED HER FOR the next day and a half. Calling in sick was necessary. He didn’t care if he got fired. His life was on the line. Carolina’s hair was up in a ponytail, and he liked the way her dress clung to her hips. White cotton was perfect for her.
Virginal. He followed her through the grocery store parking lot.
She had a white piece of paper in her hand that he assumed was her list. Staring at the list, she didn’t see him walk past her and through the double sliding doors. He took a cart from the long line stacked up just inside and walked toward the produce section, keeping his eyes on her. He wore his uniform in the hopes she would recognize him better that way. Picking up some bananas and a loaf of bread, he made his way toward her as she disappeared into the pet food aisle. He decided he’d buy some dog food.
Stopping behind her, he watched as she picked up those little cans of fancy dog food. He would never spend that kind of money on dog food.
Yes, the dog would have to go. She’d be buying baby food instead.
She looked over her shoulder and hesitated before she smiled.
“Hello,” he said, smiling back. “I delivered flowers to you, didn’t I?”
Turning fully around, she tilted her head. “Oh, yeah. You did. How are you ...” She peered at his uniform shirt where his name was embroidered. “Dennis.”
“I’m good. Just picking up a few groceries before I head on home.�
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“Me, too.”
Not wanting to lose her attention, he picked up a can of dog food. “What would you recommend for a puppy?”
Her face lit up. “What kind of puppy do you have?”
“She’s a little lab mix. Not sure mixed with what.”
Carolina looked at the rows of different dog items. Bags, boxes, cans. So many choices. “How old is she?”
“Vet says she’s about ten weeks.” He was quick on his feet and had a gift for improvising in conversations. Lying on the fly was a valuable skill and also kept him in various customer service jobs as needed.
“Hmm ...” Touching her chin with her finger, she picked up a bag of Puppy Chow. “I would use this one for the next couple months. Once she’s four or five months, you can switch to an adult dog food.”
Taking the bag from her, he placed it in his cart. “Thank you, Carolina.” He heard somewhere when you use someone’s name while talking to them, it puts them at ease, makes them more comfortable.
“You’re welcome.” She smiled and batted her eyelashes.
Perfect. She was flirting, but he didn’t want to push too hard just yet. He winked at her. “See you later.” He pushed his cart past her, giving her one backward glance. Women liked him, or at least they found him attractive. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why they didn’t stick around long. He was nice to them until they fucked up, then they had to take their medicine. That’s just life.
He picked up eggs and a quart of milk and added them to the hodgepodge of items in his basket. An old woman pushed her cart in front of him, and he wanted to pick up a can of juice and smash her head in. She was moving too slow, and his headache was coming back. Finally, there was a clear path for him to go around her. He needed to get outside quickly.
He paid for the few items in his cart and then headed outside. Carolina’s car was parked two rows over from his van. He deposited the groceries into the back of the van and reached for the leather sheath he kept just beneath the carpet. The blade of the six-inch hunting knife glinted. He tucked it into the pocket of his work pants.
When the Shadows Come Page 8