by Susan Gnucci
Without taking her eyes off the delicate ornament in front of her, Sandra suddenly announced, “Did you know she was killed the day after her birthday?”
Tess gasped and her hand flew to her mouth in an attempt to stifle her reaction. “No, I didn’t. I’m so sorry.”
“Her 16th birthday. She’d been begging us for months for a horse; swore she’d take care of it. I told George it was better than her bugging us for a car. So we made her take lessons first, and she volunteered at a boarding farm mucking out stalls and helping with the grooming. If we thought she’d be put off by the work involved, we were wrong. By last summer, she’d found the horse she wanted and that was that. We bought it as her birthday present. We figured what trouble could she get into out here? Half our neighbours have horses. And there are trails all over the place. If she’d only stuck to those and not ridden along the road. They found her horse along Walman Road.” Sandra closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. Exhaling slowly as if to release the pain of such thoughts, she continued, “I miss her physical presence like crazy, but her essence is still with me.” Opening her eyes, she lovingly surveyed her garden. “All I have to do is come out into my garden and close my eyes, and I can call her to mind.” She smiled knowingly after which she carefully returned the precious ornament to its box.
Tess reached up and gently laid a hand on Sandra’s shoulder.
In response, Sandra laid her own hand over Tess’ and confessed, “I was so angry for such a long time, and there wasn’t even anyone to be angry with, you know? Just some nameless, faceless monster. But now I can let it all go. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life angry. Katie wouldn’t have wanted that.” Turning to look directly at Tess, Sandra said, “You’ve brought us such peace of mind, Tess. We’re so thankful he won’t be able to do this to any other family. And we’re so glad you’re OK.” All of a sudden, she embraced her fiercely. Such a gesture would normally have made Tess uncomfortable, but under the circumstances, it felt totally appropriate.
Over Sandra’s shoulder, Tess spied George heading toward them with a tray of lemonade accompanied by his three children, little Brett skipping along happily beside him. She smiled a warm greeting.
AUGUST
As Tess and Leah exited the Science building on campus on a hot summer afternoon, they spied McLean in the parking lot leaning against his car, arms folded across his chest, an affectionate smile on his face.
“Afternoon, ladies,” he drawled as they approached.
Tess ran her hand through her cropped mane self-consciously. “Geez, I look like a bloody boy with this haircut. I guess I should be thankful I’m even addressed as a lady.” Frowning, she stopped in front of him. Reaching out, he playfully pulled her toward him, and wrapping his arms around her, he tilted her face up to his.
“Alright, you two,” Leah reprimanded them as she brushed past. “Cut it out,” she sighed disgustedly. “You guys are so embarrassing.”
Ignoring her good naturedly, McLean assured Tess, “Hey, I think you look adorable.” He then proceeded to nuzzle her neck where he placed a tender kiss.
Tess pulled away from him with an annoyed huff. “Gee, thanks. ‘Adorable’. That does wonders for a woman’s ego,” she muttered dryly.
“Hey, I’d take adorable right about now,” Leah piped up as she waited impatiently for McLean to unlock the car. “Consider yourself lucky.”
“Hey, I’m serious. Not a lot of women look good in short hair.” McLean was back pedalling and he knew it and they knew it. That lightened the mood and they all laughed.
As they seated themselves in the car, Leah made an attempt to catch Tess’ eye, and when she finally did so, she gestured at her friend as if to prompt her. Catching sight of the gesture, McLean eyed them both quizzically but said nothing. The atmosphere took on a strained edge as they got underway because it was obvious something was up. Finally, Tess broke the silence. Attempting to sound casual, she confessed, “I had a phone call today from Roy’s lawyer.”
“About what?” McLean frowned.
“Apparently, he wants to see me,” she sighed heavily.
“Who? The lawyer or Roy?” he asked, his tone guarded.
“Roy.”
After a moment’s hesitation, McLean asked, “And how do you feel about that?”
“I don’t know. I thought with his capture, I’d feel a sense of closure; I thought I would feel free of him, you know? But there’s something still there. Something I can’t quite put my finger on. Maybe I just need to face him?” Tess fidgeted with her hands in her lap. “Leah thinks I’m nuts.”
“I did not say that,” Leah replied calmly. “All I said is there’s absolutely no reason to see him. For God’s sake, Tess – just let the bugger rot.” She folded her arms across her chest, distaste written all over her face.
“You know, you’ll get no thank you from him,” McLean gently advised.
Tess nodded her head solemnly. “I know.”
“The charges he’s facing in your case alone will put him behind bars for a very long time, Tess. And who knows? Maybe we’ll be able to tie him to Katie Bishop at some point or even to the case in Manitoba.” McLean paused and then exhaled slowly. “I’m not sure what going to see him now will accomplish.”
“I don’t know either, but I feel like there are still loose ends to tie up,” she sighed wearily.
“I just don’t want him playing with your head, Tess. Guys like him get off on manipulating other people.” The look he gave her when he glanced over at her was etched with concern.
Tess placed her hand on his arm reassuringly. “I promise. I’ll think carefully about it first.” She flashed him a weak smile.
In the back seat, Leah rolled her eyes and shook her head disapprovingly, prompting a worried look from the young detective’s face in the rear view mirror.
EPILOGUE
Tess was unbelievably nervous as the prison guard led her down a long hallway into the drab visitor’s room. Their footsteps reverberated off the concrete walls and echoed deafeningly in her ears. She was more than nervous – she was quite literally sick to her stomach. Thankfully, she hadn’t been able to force down any breakfast, so at least she wouldn’t humiliate herself by throwing up. She’d had a hard time deciding what to wear; after all, how does one dress to meet with a serial killer? She’d felt a strong desire to cover herself up, as if to leave any skin exposed would be to invite his eyes upon her, and although she knew he had no sexual interest in her, she would still feel…unclean. And so, she wore a black turtleneck and jeans. No jewellery, no makeup.
She took the seat she was directed to and listened distractedly as the guard gave her instructions as to what would happen. She was inordinately thankful she would only have to see Roy through the plexiglas partition and speak with him via the phone hanging on the wall beside her. Having that degree of separation gave her some peace of mind. As she waited, she ran through in her mind what he could possibly have to say to her. She knew McLean was right. He would not thank her for saving his life. And certainly, he would not apologize. She knew without a doubt he wasn’t capable of feeling any remorse for what he’d done to her or to any of his victims. People like him didn’t have the ability to feel anything other than their own desires. So why would he summon her? To torture her further? To ‘play with her head’ as McLean had put it? To ‘have the last word’, so to speak? He was the one sitting in a jail cell and she was free, but did he still feel the need to have some measure of control over her? She didn’t know what to expect from him, and that uncertainty combined with her very real fear of him, left her sorely conflicted.
As she waited apprehensively, she became aware of her thirst, her dry tongue literally feeling two sizes too large for her mouth. She worried it would render her incapable of uttering a word. Part of her simply wanted to flee, to turn around and run back down the corridor and out into the fresh air, to forget all this and simply live her life. And yet something kept her rooted in he
r chair. Some sick part of her wanted to hear what he had to say. She didn’t have long to wait, for at that moment a loud buzzer sounded and Roy was ushered in.
The second she heard the door, she dropped her eyes, loathing herself all the while for her cowardice. She knew he was taking the seat in front of her in a very unhurried fashion, as though he had all the time in the world. It was only when she knew he was seated that she willed herself to look up.
He sat across from her with a huge grin plastered on his face as though delighted at the prospect of chatting with an old friend. Without breaking eye contact, he reached over and picked up his phone. When she did not do the same, he cocked his head and arched an eyebrow at her.
She had come this far she reasoned; she would not back down now. Reaching out to lift her phone, she prayed her hand would not fail her. She had to steel herself to hear his voice, willing herself not to flinch, for she did not want to grant him that power over her.
“Ah, Tess. It’s so good to see you.” His voice ran over her like water, and she momentarily closed her eyes as if in a vain attempt to seal him out. When she did not reply, he continued, “I’m so glad you came.” To anyone who did not know him, he radiated charm and sincerity, but she knew what he was capable of. She knew it all too well.
Opening her eyes, she worried her lower lip and finally spoke in a voice she hoped did not reveal her uneasiness, “What do you want, Roy?”
“Why, your company is enough in itself, my dear,” he chuckled and sat back in his chair scrutinizing her, his keen eyes taking in every detail of her appearance.
For a brief instant, she was dismayed this was all it was going to be.
Sensing her disappointment, he gestured – “I love what you’ve done with your hair.” The look he gave her was a conspiratorial one and he smirked. “Of course, I prefer it…long.”
Tess had to resist the urge to bash the phone against his thick skull despite the pane of plexiglas between them. She was actually glad of the anger coursing through her though because it gave her courage, but she knew she must not display her temper. He was baiting her, and she would not give him the satisfaction of rattling her cage.
“I actually like it short,” she remarked nonchalantly, running a hand flippantly over her cropped locks. “It’s so much easier to keep this way.”
That stole his thunder, leaving him at a momentary loss for words. He recovered his composure quickly, however, and leaned towards her, making a point of his ability to intimidate her. “That’s the great thing about hair though, isn’t it? You can always grow it out.” He winked at her. “That is, if you live to grow it out, I suppose…” He took delight in her shocked expression. “Do you know human hair grows at a rate of half an inch a month? Sometimes even faster if one’s diet is right. Sadly, it’s not my best attribute, I know.” He ran a hand over the stubble on his shaved head and grimaced self-deprecatingly.
When Tess gave him a sour look, he sat back in his chair and stretched lazily. “Oh, don’t worry. You won’t hurt my feelings to agree. It’s the truth, after all. I may have a lot of other failings, but vanity isn’t one of them; I can assure you,” he chuckled.
An awkward moment passed as he studied her with a look full of speculation. “I’m just wondering Tess – Why?”
“Why what?” she tried to play for time, annoyed with herself for not having prepared a suitable answer. She had to admit she did not think he would actually ask the question.
“You know why,” his tone was coy.
Tess broke eye contact and dropped her gaze to her lap.
“Why didn’t you just leave me, Tess? You could have so easily.” He leaned forward with his elbows resting on the edge of the counter in front of him, eager for her response.
Why hadn’t she? In all frankness, he was a blight on society - a miserable, horrible excuse for a human being; one who had caused nothing but pain and misery. Why then had she been unable to simply leave him to his fate? A fate he richly deserved? She closed her eyes and sighed heavily, wishing she was anywhere but here in this confined little room with him. But she had come of her own free will, and she was determined to see this through. Maybe then, she could achieve some closure.
“I think you know why, Roy,” she answered softly. “Despite what you are, I didn’t want that on my conscience.”
He nodded his head ever so slightly and slowly stroked the stubble of beard on his chin as if deep in thought. “And to think I thought you actually cared.” he sighed wistfully. Having gotten his question out of the way, he sat back in his chair and quickly switched gears. “Now Tess, you must tell me how you’ve been keeping.”
“That’s none of your business, Roy,” she replied tersely.
“Oh, but it is my business.” The lightness of his mood was gone now, and he spoke in a flat, controlled voice. “You know, I don’t often know the names of my…subjects, at least not beforehand, so you can imagine my surprise when I learned yours – Walker. You see, your surname meant something to me. And as I did a little sleuthing, you can imagine my surprise when I found a skeleton in your closet.” When he levelled his gaze at her, she could not look away. Witnessing her confusion, he grinned, obviously pleased he had regained the upper hand.
Tess frowned as a slow sense of dread crept over her and a seed of doubt sprouted deep in her belly. She tried to shake it off.
“A skeleton by the name of Eddison Walker.”
Her jaw slackened and fell open. Without thinking, she raised a hand to her mouth too late to stifle the strangled gasp that tumbled from it.
Roy paused to enjoy the full effect of her reaction. “He was your father, wasn’t he? And he was an English professor, wasn’t he?” Not waiting for or even expecting her acknowledgement, he continued, “You see, I never knew my father. I was raised with my mother’s maiden name, which I’m sure by now you know isn’t Lange.” He winked at her. “It wasn’t until my dear mother passed away this spring that I had a chance to sort through her paperwork, and when I did, I came across my birth certificate. Well, you can imagine my surprise to discover my birth father’s name after all these years. All I ever knew about him was he was a professor at McGill. Your father taught there in the late sixties did he not?”
Tess sat in speechless silence.
“You see, I’ve been able to put two and two together, and I’ve come up with…me.” He grinned like a Cheshire cat while he waited for the full repercussion of his news to register with her.
Her eyes flew open and a shocked, horrified expression washed over her face. She felt like she was sliding into an abyss.
“Oh, I’m sure he never knew he’d impregnated one of his students,” he assured her with a wave of his hand. “Knowing my mother, she would never have told him. As for me, they say you don’t miss what you don’t know, and I suppose that’s true. I was happy enough with just my mother and me in the beginning. And then she met him,” he said with contempt as if the actual word left a bitter taste in his mouth. “And they married and had their darling little girl. You remember; the one who had the…accident.”
The room began to spin, and his voice took on a hollow quality as though she was hearing it from the end of a long tunnel.
“Our father’s untimely death was unfortunate indeed, for I never got the chance to meet him,” he speculated. “Although, I suppose,” he paused with a dramatic flourish, “he wouldn’t exactly be proud of my…accomplishments, now would he?” Upon seeing the look of utter revulsion on her face, he continued, “Ah, no matter. I have you now. What’s the old saying – ‘blood is thicker than water’?”
Tess fought desperately for control of her wildly spinning world.
“Intriguing to think of the odds of us finding each another, isn’t’ it? I wouldn’t even want to hazard a guess. Although, can you imagine my chagrin to be bested by my own…flesh and blood?” He chuckled and shook his head. “Kind of ironic, isn’t it?” He leaned in toward the glass and searched her face, locking onto
her eyes.
“I…I don’t believe you. You’re sick,” Tess finally stammered, wishing she could tear her gaze away from his, knowing she could not, that she was trapped.
“Now, now. Let’s not resort to name calling, shall we? Don’t just take my word for it,” he grinned. “Check it out for yourself.” He sat back in his chair, clearly savouring the moment.
Tess struggled with the full horror of his news. How could she possibly be related to this monster? How could the same blood flow through his veins? And then comprehension dawned. “You knew! You knew and that’s why you kept me alive. But you would have killed me anyway?” she cried in dismay.
“Regrettable, yes. But I think we both know I’m not the best big brother,” he frowned. “And besides, you were a complication I’m afraid I simply could not afford. But it kind of explains the shared ability, doesn’t it?” He appeared suddenly thoughtful. “And our mutual fascination with one another, of course.”
Sensing she would flee, he was quick to assure her, “Now, now. Don’t worry, Tess. I won’t tell a soul. It will be our little secret. But I hope you’ll stick by your big brother despite what you may learn along the way about my, how shall we say…colourful past.” He leaned toward the glass again at that point, his eyes gleaming, his face split in a wide grin. “After all – we’re family.”
The phone slipped from her hand to swing wildly to and fro on its cord as if dancing to his maniacal laughter. As Tess attempted to stand, her legs buckled and mercifully the blackness reached out to envelope her. In truth, she gave in to it readily, for it was her only means of escape.
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
A note of thanks to fellow author, Anne Gafiuk, for graciously editing the very first draft of my manuscript and for being my sounding board; to Erinne Sevigny Adachi of Blue Pencil Consult for her editorial services that gave my book a direction to take; and to my literary agent, Romily Withington of Georgina Capel Associates Ltd for all her guidance and support. Finally, my sincere appreciation goes to my family and friends who never failed to encourage me.