Deadly Recall

by T. R. Ragan

  “Oh, nobody really,” she said.

  “Your friend is nobody?”

  She forced a smile, since she was pretty sure he was trying to be funny, but instead he came across as even creepier. And then he lifted his camera and looked through the lens at her.

  She didn’t move. Her feet were like lead weights as he pushed a button. She heard a click.

  “Did anyone ever tell you that you have a beautiful smile?”

  She wasn’t even smiling. Finally, her brain kicked into high gear and told her muscles what to do. She backed away from the door, nearly tripping over her feet to get away from him.

  “You were born to be in pictures,” he said, making no move to go back inside.

  Without another word, she turned toward the road. She was going to be sick. There was no way she was going to cross the street and climb inside Zee’s car and just sit there, so she made a right. Walking as fast as she could, she stayed on the sidewalk. Her heart pounded against her chest. She kept glancing over her shoulder. When she couldn’t see the man or the house any longer, she broke into a run.

  By the time Olivia pulled out her phone, ready to call Jessie, Zee drove up beside her. She put her phone away, opened the door, and climbed in.

  Zee sped off. “That was close.”

  Close? Olivia buckled her seat belt, then crossed her arms and said nothing.

  “Are you okay?”

  No. She wasn’t okay. She was angry and scared and frustrated all at once. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Are you a Cancer?”

  Olivia scrunched her nose. “What?”

  “Your sign. You’re a Cancer, aren’t you?”

  Olivia ignored her.

  “I only ask because Cancers are usually sensitive, too cautious, moody, and emotional.”

  Olivia narrowed her eyes. “What are you? A Leo?”

  Zee became suddenly animated. “Are you into horoscopes, too?”

  “No,” Olivia said, still annoyed by what had happened. “I just took a guess. Sounded like a sign that might fit your personality.”

  Zee laughed. “You’re a very funny person.”

  “That ferret lover took a picture of me,” Olivia blurted. “I think he’s a real creeper, and you should stay away from him.”

  They drove the rest of the way in silence, which suited Olivia just fine.

  When Zee finally turned onto the street leading to Olivia’s house, she nudged Olivia’s arm. “Is that Jessie standing outside on the curb?”

  Oh, crap. Olivia sat up and inhaled as she smoothed her hair in an attempt to look as if nothing was wrong. Zee was oblivious to it all. Apparently she didn’t have to follow rules set by her father or anyone else.

  Jessie opened the passenger door for Olivia. “Are you sure you can’t stay for dinner?” Jessie asked Zee.

  “What are you having?”

  “Pork chops and mashed potatoes.”

  “No-go. I don’t eat meat. I don’t do dairy, either. I’m a seagan.”

  “A seagan?” Jessie and Olivia asked at the same time.

  “Vegan, but I eat fish sometimes.”

  Olivia grabbed her packages and would have shut the door, but Jessie held tight to the frame and leaned into the car. “I might need to pull you from the Norton case,” she told Zee.

  “Why?” Zee asked. “I’m about to crack the Norton case wide-open!”

  Olivia inwardly groaned.

  “I need your help with locating someone,” Jessie told her.

  Zee straightened. “The missing baby?”

  “No. A new case. It will be tedious work, but it’s important that we find this person.”

  “Is he or she dangerous?”

  Jessie nodded.

  “I’m in.”

  “Can you meet me here at noon on Sunday?”

  “No problem,” Zee said. “But if it’s okay, I’d like to spend one or two afternoons next week wrapping up the Norton case.”

  “That’s fine. I’ll see you Sunday.” Jessie shut the door, and Zee sped away.

  “Is there something I can do?” Olivia asked after Zee drove off.

  “I could use all the help I can get,” Jessie said, seeming glad to see that Olivia wanted to get involved.

  NINETEEN

  He wiped sweat from his brow as he took a moment to observe the work he’d done. Since he planned to keep his next victim much longer than the other two, he’d spent the past few days using the back corner of the warehouse to make a small room with four walls. He’d always been handy with a hammer and a nail.

  The end result was striking: a clean and simple design. The two back walls were made up of the original cinder block. The other two walls were mostly wood, although each wall had a large section of paned glass that would allow him to view his prisoner at all times. Since the twelve-foot walls didn’t come close to reaching the ceiling, it would be easy to have conversations with his prisoner.

  Inside the ten-by-ten space, he’d constructed a wooden bench that could be used as a place to sleep. Also included were a portable toilet and two large coolers packed with Gatorade and yogurt.

  The perfect “home away from home” for Owen Shepard’s daughter, Emily Shepard.

  He picked up a simple side table he’d made from leftover wood and moved it next to the futon, which he’d set up a few feet away from one of the windows. This area would serve as his own personal space when he visited.

  Feeling satisfied with how things were progressing, he grabbed a water bottle and a bag of potato chips and plopped down on the cushioned seat, staring at the room as he ate. He ate the last chip, smacked his lips, then glanced at his watch.

  Time to go home, take a shower, and get some sleep.

  If everything went as planned, Emily Shepard would soon be wishing for him to end her life, and her father would get to witness every second of her demise.

  TWENTY

  Ben carried a pile of dirty dishes into the kitchen and began to wash them in the sink.

  Melony came up beside him holding a dish towel, and together they watched through the large window overlooking the backyard as his sister, Nancy, played Frisbee with Abigail and Sean.

  Back and forth the plastic disc went until Nancy tossed it too high. The disc wobbled through the air and landed in the middle of the pool. The dog jumped into the water, making them all laugh.

  It had been a perfect day.

  Earlier, they had enjoyed a picnic lunch at the school where Abigail played soccer. Her team won. Back at home, Ben and Melony had left Nancy alone to hang out with the kids. Abigail and Sean had been on their best behavior, excited to meet their aunt Nancy for the first time. They showed her around the house, told her stories about their hobbies and friends. Abigail played Aunt Nancy a song on the piano, and then Sean tried to upstage his older sister with an exciting card trick he’d been practicing.

  “It’s hard to believe your sister hasn’t been a part of our lives for the past ten years,” Melony said, breaking into his thoughts. “She fits right in, and the kids adore her.”

  “I was thinking the same thing. And yet she’s definitely done everything in her power to keep her distance from me.”

  “I noticed that,” Melony said. “At the school, I did get a chance to sit alone with her for a few minutes. I asked her about her life in Florida. She said her husband was in construction, and she was a legal secretary for a large firm. They are happy. That’s all I got out of her.”

  Finished with the dishes, Ben dried his hands. “I am going to try to talk to her on the drive back to the hotel. Who knows if or when I’ll ever see her again?”

  “If you put too much pressure on her, she might not return.”

  “Then so be it,” Ben said. “She can’t even look me in the eye, Melony. If I can’t have a real conversation with my sister, then I don’t see any reason for her to ever come back.”

  The kids ran into the house just then, asking if Aunt Nancy could spend the night.
Melony tossed the towel on the counter. “Of course she can.”

  Ben rushed to the sliding door to stop the wet dog from coming inside. “We’re going to have dry you off first, buddy.”

  Nancy squeezed through the door. She wasn’t yet forty, but her face had a hardness to it that made her look much older. It wasn’t the fine lines or the hint of sadness in her eyes, but the unyielding way she carried herself and the hard set of her jaw and shoulders that made him think she’d seen her fair share of tragedy.

  When she caught him looking at her, she quickly turned the other way.

  He slid the door shut.

  “We really would love to have you stay,” Melony said over the children’s heads as she dried them with a towel. “The guest room is ready for you.”

  “I appreciate the offer,” Nancy said. “I’ve had a lovely time, but I have an early flight, and I’m eager to get home.”

  The kids moaned and groaned while Melony cheered them with promises of ice cream. Nancy didn’t waste any time gathering her things. “I’m going to head outside,” she said. “I have a car coming in a few minutes.”

  “I thought I would drive you back to your hotel,” Ben said.

  She ignored his offer and went to hug the kids goodbye. He and Melony shared a long look, but he wasn’t ready to give up. After waiting for his sister near the front entry, he walked her out, shutting the door behind him.

  “Melony and I are very happy you took the time to come and spend a day with all of us, and I don’t want to come across as pushy, but can you tell me why you’re so put off by me?”

  Nancy stopped halfway across the walkway leading to the sidewalk. For the first time all day, she looked directly into his eyes. “I’m sorry about your accident and the amnesia, but in my mind you are the lucky one.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “I wish I could erase all of my childhood memories.”

  The few times he’d talked to her, she’d been as vague as she was being now. Frustrated, he asked, “Why is that?”

  She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter any longer. The important thing is that your kids are great, and you and Melony seem happy. You were smart to bury the past and move on.”

  “I don’t think I can do that anymore.”

  An owl hooted in the distance.

  He could see by the way she kept glancing toward the street that she was eager to end their conversation and leave. “I really hope you change your mind,” she finally said, “because if you start digging into your past, I can guarantee that you won’t like what you find.”

  Weighed down by helplessness, his shoulders fell. He didn’t just want to know where he came from; he needed to know. “I realize it’s impossible for you to know what it’s like to suffer from amnesia. But I’m asking you, as your brother, if you can somehow find it in your heart to tell me one thing?”

  When she met his gaze again, he stared at her, unblinking, wishing he could merely look into Nancy’s eyes and remember—something, anything at all. But there was nothing. No jolt of awareness. No glimmer of recognition from his past. “Were you and I ever close?”

  She seemed to ponder his question before she answered. “Not really. I don’t think you were capable of being close to anyone. I know, in your own way, that you cared about me, though.” She closed her eyes, making it clear she’d already said more than she intended.

  “Is this about Mom and Dad?”

  Her eyes snapped open, and she wiped a tear from her cheek. “Our parents were not good people.”

  A car came around the corner. Her body slumped in obvious relief, her posture losing its rigidity. As she turned toward the street, he settled a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Please. Give me something. Help me understand. Did they hurt you?”

  Her gaze fell on his hand before moving back to his face. “I don’t want to go back there. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  Before she climbed into the car, he said, “Will we see you again?”

  Another long pause followed. “I don’t think so. You have a beautiful family, Ben. Enjoy every moment with them. I wish you nothing but the best.”

  She climbed into the car and disappeared as quickly as she had come.

  When Ben walked into the house, he looked at Melony, who was in the middle of dishing up a treat for the kids. He gave a subtle shake of his head, letting her know Nancy wouldn’t talk. “I’m going for a drive,” he said. “I won’t be long.”

  “We’re having ice cream, Dad!”

  Someone, most likely his wife, had dried the dog and let him inside. Abigail and Sean looked happy. This was his family, he thought, and he loved them. Why couldn’t he let his past go? “You guys enjoy. I’ll be back soon.”

  Melony didn’t look pleased, but she didn’t try to stop him.

  He walked to his van parked on the street. It was only six thirty. The sky was bluish gray, the air a soothing sixty-five degrees. He climbed in behind the wheel and started the engine. He wasn’t sure exactly where he was going, but he knew he needed to get out and clear his mind.

  By the time he merged onto Highway 80 heading west, he was more certain than ever that he had done the right thing by asking Jessie Cole to help him look into his past. Good or bad, he needed to know where he came from.

  It bothered him that seeing Nancy and talking to her had failed to summon memories from his past. Why would he recognize Jessie’s sister, Sophie, after seeing her image on Cold Case TV, but not feel even a stirring of recognition when he looked into his own sister’s eyes?

  Twenty-five minutes later, for the second time in a matter of days, he found himself driving down a now-familiar street. In the distance he saw the brick building covered in graffiti. As he approached the tract development where cookie-cutter housing had been built over more than a few square miles, something odd happened. A spasm above his left eye quickly turned into an uncomfortable tingling in his forehead. It was as if something was stabbing his frontal lobe with dozens of needles. Unable to drive, he pulled to the side of the road, turned off the engine, and closed his eyes.

  Thirty seconds later, the pain in his head subsided. When he looked up, he saw a man walking backward, struggling as he dragged a limp body across what appeared to be a construction zone. The cookie-cutter houses were gone. In their place were rows of homes in various stages of construction; some with only a cement foundation, some framed, while others were nearing completion. Barricade tape surrounded the area.

  Slowly, Ben climbed out of the vehicle. The man walking backward looked like a young version of himself. How could that be?

  He blinked a couple of times, but nothing had changed. He was losing his mind. Glancing around, he hoped someone would drive by so he could stop them and ask them what had happened to the houses that were here just minutes ago.

  The man dragged the body around the side of a house that had a finished exterior. The vision was nothing like anything he’d seen before. It wasn’t a film clip in his mind’s eye. It was real.

  Ben shut the van door and followed the same path the man had taken. By the time he came around the corner, he saw the younger version of himself standing near a hole close to the house. He’d left the limp body lying on the ground nearby.

  Was the other man dead? Ben wondered. Horrified by the thought, he moved close enough to recognize the unmoving body as DJ Stumm.

  This was absolutely crazy.

  He didn’t know whether to call the police or his therapist, but before he could pull out his phone, DJ’s hand shot out and grabbed hold of younger Ben’s ankle, yanking him to the ground.

  They rolled around in the dirt, wrestling until younger Ben kicked DJ in the head, giving him time to get to his feet and grab the shovel. The other man tried to scramble away, but younger Ben stomped down hard on DJ’s leg.

  “You’re crazy!” DJ screamed.

  “You killed your family.” Young Ben’s voice sounded calm.

  “My wife was a controlling bitch.
She needed to die. Why do you care? Were you fucking the whore?”

  Young Ben didn’t flinch. “You tortured and killed your own children.”

  “Their mother needed to be taught a lesson.”

  “And so do you.”

  Ben gripped the sides of his head and squeezed as Young Ben lifted the shovel and came down hard, crushing the other man’s skull. Young Ben picked up his pace, stripping the clothes from DJ and then dragging him by the feet to the hole. The hole wasn’t wide enough. Young Ben disappeared and promptly returned carrying an ax.

  Ben watched in horror as he chopped DJ into pieces so he could fit the man into the hole before filling it with dirt. When he was done, he wiped his brow with his forearm, put the shovel away, and scooped up DJ’s clothes.

  Ben followed Young Ben back to the street. His skin tingled when he saw Young Ben open the back of a van identical to the one he still drove, lift the hatch to the compartment where the spare tire was kept, and place the ax inside. Still carrying DJ’s clothes, he went around to the front of the van, climbed in, and drove off.

  Heart racing, Ben stood unmoving in the middle of the street. When he looked at the construction zone, everything was back to normal. The barrier tape and hazard signs were gone. Cars and mature trees lined the street.

  Lights were on inside the homes. He could see movement and the flickering lights of TVs through many of the windows. Ben turned. His gaze settled on his van.

  He jogged that way, opened the rear doors, lifted the metal lid, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the spare tire. He took a moment to calm his nerves. About to shut the rear doors and get going, he paused. He lifted the tire out and put it to the side. Underneath he saw a tattered and stained rag. He reached for the rag. There was a hard object wrapped inside. It was heavy. Slowly he unraveled the cloth until there was nothing left but a bloodied ax.

  Working fast, he wrapped up the ax, shoved it back inside the compartment, and placed the tire on top of it. He shut the rear doors, walked quickly back to the front of the van, and got in. For a moment he wondered if the ax had been a hallucination. Surely he would have seen it before now?