Killer Secrets

by Sherrie Orvik

  “I’m beginning to.”

  “Now for the creepiest part…that DNA you asked me to run from the Benson murders…it’s a match to Michael Goldman. Maggie’s own son murdered her family.”

  James dropped his gaze, trying to digest everything he was hearing. “And my dad…and Matthew.”

  “I thought Maggie Benson turned herself in.”

  “She did, but she never actually confessed. She just said she wanted the killing to stop. And it did after she went to the hospital.”

  He took a deep breath and exhaled through pursed lips.

  “What about the DNA from Elyse’s attacker?”

  She nodded. “Michael Goldman.”

  “So, what was he doing after his killing spree? Where has he been, and more importantly, where is he now?”

  Terry raised her eyebrows and shook her head. “Well, apparently he’s in the area, since he attacked Elyse.”

  “And he’s probably responsible for drugging Oden.”

  James closed his eyes for a moment, trying to recall what the doctor in the hospital had said about Elyse being drugged.

  His eyes shot open. “Did his teachers say what he was studying for?”

  “They said he wanted to be a doctor, but I checked every medical school in the country. There are no records of Michael Goldman attending or graduating from any of them.”

  James felt sick. He had a hunch Michael Goldman was hiding in plain sight.

  “Terry, did you happen to get any pictures?”

  “Yeah, but he’s young—eight, maybe ten years old. It’s hard to tell, because it seems like he was a small kid.”

  She pulled a photo out of the file. James looked at it closely. Similar beady eyes, similar small stature. But he was a kid, and James couldn’t be positive.

  “What about blood type? Is that anywhere in there?”

  Terry thumbed through the papers. “Yeah. Here, on the same sheet as the DNA results. He’s a rare one, too. O negative.”

  James went to the phone and dialed.

  “Gunderson Memorial Hospital, how may I direct your call?” the voice on the other end answered.

  “Medical records, please.”

  “What are you doing, James?” Terry asked, her brows knitted together, her arms crossed in front of her.

  “I have a terrible feeling Michael Goldman has been living here in Gunderson as—” he held up his finger. “Yes,” he said to the person on the other end of the phone. “This is Sheriff Warrick. I’m currently investigating an attempted murder, and I need to know if you have blood type records for your employees. You do? Dr. Eldon Manning. Yes, I’ll hold.”

  Terry’s eyes were wide open, staring at James. “You think he’s Michael Goldman?”

  “He could be close to Maggie that way, stay in Gunderson and wait for Elyse to come back. Plus, Manning has the perfect alibi…he doesn’t exist in DNA records. Yes, I’m still here,” he said to the voice on the other line.

  “I see. Yes, thank you.”

  He hung the receiver on the cradle and turned to Terry.

  “Manning’s blood type is a match.”

  He braced himself against his desk and fought the urge to vomit, his body shaking with anger.

  “Oh, God, what have I done? I took her right to him, Terry. I practically delivered Elyse to him. What kind of cop am I? I am supposed to protect her, and I put her right in harm’s way.”

  “You didn’t know, James. You couldn’t have known. And you were with her the entire time. She’s okay.”

  Fear flooded him, and he grabbed his cell. He dialed the number to Elyse’s phone. His heart pounded as it rang and rang. No answer. He grabbed the keys off of his desk and ran for the door. “Get an arrest warrant for Manning—I want him in custody, now! I have to go. I have to make sure she is alright.”

  James jumped into a squad car and rushed to the safe house, lights flashing and sirens blaring. He pulled into the driveway and ran into the front door.

  “Elyse?” Nothing. His heart beat out of control, fear forcing blood through his veins. “Elyse!” He shouted, running from room to room searching for her. She wasn’t downstairs. He ran up the stairs, still shouting for her. “Elyse, where are you?”

  “James?” Pops came out of his room. “You’re back—” James grabbed Pops by the shoulders.

  “Pops, where’s Elyse?”

  “I…I can’t…”

  “Dammit, Pops, think! Where is she?”

  Pops pulled away and backed up, his eyes filled with heartbreak. James rubbed his face and took a deep breath. As a trained cop, he knew panic wasn’t proper protocol. As the man who loved Elyse, he didn’t give a damn about protocol. He just had to find her.

  “I’m sorry, Pops. I’m just really worried about Elyse. It’s very important you remember where she went.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I remember, now. She’s fine, don’t worry. She went with that Dr. Manning fellow.”

  “She left with Manning? When? How long ago?”

  “Oh, half hour…that officer you had outside followed them.”

  Bailey. Thank God. James ran to his car and grabbed the radio.

  “Bailey, you have Elyse and Manning in view?”

  “Yes, sir, they’re a few cars ahead. We just exited the highway at Exit 211, heading southbound on Sawyer Road.”

  James’ pulse raced. The Benson murders took place in their home on Sawyer Road.

  “I’m on my way.”

  “I promise I won’t let them out of my sight, boss.”

  James flipped on his lights and sirens and raced toward Sawyer Road.

  His cell rang, and he glanced at the incoming number. Terry.

  “Elyse is with Goldman,” he said as soon as he answered. “I’m on my way to them right now.”

  “I just got off the phone with Denver Labs. James…Michael is a twin.”

  Chapter 18

  Elyse looked at Dr. Manning. His eyes constantly scanned his surroundings, she assumed to make sure they weren’t being followed. James did the same thing. This felt a little different to her, though. She tried to shake it off, telling herself it was because it was the first time since the accident that she had been anywhere without James.

  He was going to be furious, and she knew it. Especially since she hadn’t answered his call. This morning sealed the deal for her, though. The words weren’t said, but she loved him, and she knew he loved her. She had to find out who killed her family—and his—so they could be together without the unknown hanging over their heads. She had to do this for him. For them.

  Dr. Manning passed the turn to the hospital, and her heart started pounding.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You seem eager to resolve the nightmares, so I thought a more…aggressive therapy might be in order. You do want to get better, don’t you?”

  She swallowed, trying to calm her racing pulse and steady her breathing.

  “Yes, of course I do. I just…” Her voice dropped as Manning turned into a long gravel driveway. The car slowly rolled past a tire swing on a giant cottonwood tree. That tire swing was Evie’s favorite. Elyse pushed her on it until her arms ached. Evie was the reason Grandpa had agreed to put a tire swing at the cabin.

  Her stomach felt like she’d been punched, her lungs unable to get the air she needed. Her heart pounded so hard, it drowned out every sound around her.

  “This…this was—” The words caught in her throat.

  “This was your house, yes.”

  Manning put the car in park and turned off the motor. He shifted to face her. “I know it’s extreme, but I think being at the scene will help you remember. Only then will you be able to accept your mother’s guilt and move on.”

  She stared at the house, memories flooding her mind, terror racing through her veins. Manning opened her door and extended his hand to help her out of the car. She looked up at him. She didn’t even remember him getting out of the driver’s side.

  “We can
’t just go in, can we?” She hoped this was as far as they were going.

  Dr. Manning sighed and shook his head. “Now, Elyse, do you really think I would bring you out here if we couldn’t go inside? You need to confront your past if you’re going to ever get over it.”

  “I don’t think I…no. I can’t.”

  “I’m here to help you. Unless you don’t want help. Maybe you’re not ready to move on. As I told you, a breakthrough could take several sessions.”

  She was ready. She knew the life she wanted, and it was a life she couldn’t have as long as she was plagued by the past.

  She got out of the car and followed Manning into the house.

  She stopped in the foyer, frozen at the bottom of the steps. The steps that led to carnage. The steps that had destroyed her life.

  “Elyse?”

  She heard her name, but she couldn’t move.

  “Elyse, come on. You’re not ready for what happened up there just yet. Let’s start in here.” Manning took her by the arm and led her to the living room sofa, sat down, and patted the cushion beside him.

  Every nerve in her body was screaming for her to run. It was probably the stress of knowing she was about to relive the terror of that day. Terror she just wanted to forget.

  “When you called me yesterday, you said you’d had the nightmare again. Did you”—he paused and started tapping his fingers on the arm of the sofa— “see anything new?”

  The tone of his voice agitated her almost as much as the question. He already knew the dream hadn’t changed, she told him when she had called him. She had left out the part about James. James. She wished he was here right now.

  “Elyse?” Dr. Manning’s voice intruded on her thoughts.

  “What?”

  “Did you see anything new in your dream?”

  “No. I told you yesterday, it was just the same dream.”

  “How would you feel about trying hypnosis, like I suggested? I’ve used it successfully on several of my patients struggling with memory loss. We might be able to get you the answers you’re looking for.”

  She was starting to rethink her decision to see Manning without James. Maybe if she tried harder, she could convince herself of her mother’s guilt. Maybe she could just ignore the nightmares.

  No. Her mother didn’t do it. She knew that with every ounce of her being. Still, the need to get out of here was becoming overwhelming.

  “What if I can’t remember because it’s too terrible? All the blood, my father and sister dead; maybe I shouldn’t remember. Maybe I should just have you take me back to the safe house.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said, rising off of the couch to stand in front of her. “I think you need answers. Listen,” he said, taking her by the shoulders and looking her in the eye. His eyes—something about them made her sick to her stomach. She shifted and tried to look away, but fear made it impossible as he kept talking.

  “I’m not only saying this as a psychiatrist. You know, before you started seeing me as your doctor, we spent a lot of time together with your mother. I’m not just your doctor, Elyse, I’m also your friend. I’m concerned about you. I think if you can come to terms with the fact that your mother did it, you can—”

  She’d had enough. Maybe her mother had lied to him for some reason, but she was sick of hearing him say her mother was a murderer. Fear or no fear, she had to speak up.

  “She didn’t do it. I don’t care if nobody believes me. I’m telling you there was someone else there that day.”

  “You mean the faceless boy from your dreams,” he said, nodding. “The mind is a powerful thing, Elyse. Sometimes it invents things to protect us from the truth. I think the boy is your subconscious trying to convince you of your mother’s innocence.”

  “Why are you so convinced she’s guilty?” She turned her back to him. “I was there, remember? Something doesn’t fit. Something isn’t right. How could she possibly—”

  “Murder her child and her husband? And we can’t forget that police officer and his child. Psychosis, Elyse. I told you, she had a psychotic break. What other possible explanation could there be? Think about it,” he said, walking around her to face her again. “In your dream, where do you find your mother?”

  Her eyes fell toward the faded wood floor, and then looked toward the foyer and up the staircase.

  “Up…up there,” she whispered.

  “Up where?”

  “You know where. Why did you bring me here? You already know everything I remember. I don’t want to be here. Please, just take me back to the safe house. Please…”

  “Now, Elyse, you know why I brought you here. This is part of your treatment—treatment you agreed to. I want you to relax and stare at the top button of my jacket.”

  “I agreed to see you again for treatment. I didn’t agree to come here,” she shouted. “You brought me here!”

  “I hear that you’re upset, and I want to help you. Now please, close your eyes and let me help you.”

  She closed her eyes and sighed, then opened them looked at Manning. “Do you really think this is going to help?”

  “I do. Now, stare at the button, and we’re going to count backwards from three slowly, together.”

  She nodded reluctantly and focused on the faded black emblem on the silver button. An emblem she had seen before.

  “Alright,” Dr. Manning began and Elyse complied.

  “Three. Two. One. Where are you, Elyse?”

  “I’m in the foyer at the bottom of the stairs. I just came home from a sleepover. Momma said to be home in time for church. It’s raining; my jacket is dripping on the floor. I know she’ll be mad if the floor gets wet, so I go in the kitchen to get a towel. She’s not in there like she usually is on Sunday mornings. The house doesn’t smell like biscuits. It always smells like biscuits on Sunday morning. And it’s quiet. I’m looking for her. I hear her singing.”

  “Where is she? Where’s your mother?”

  “I can hear her singing upstairs, so I go up there. She’s in her room—my parents’ room—and she…”

  “Tell me what you see, Elyse.”

  “She’s covered in blood, holding Evie. Evie looks like a rag doll; her eyes fixed wide open, her tiny body is limp and lifeless, her little pink nightgown soaked with blood. Momma’s rocking her, stroking her hair, and singing to her. I can still see the tiny ribbon roses on the neckline.”

  “And your father, where is he?”

  “On the floor. Blood is puddled around him, and there’s still…”

  “There’s still what, Elyse?”

  “There’s still a knife in his back. Daddy? Momma, what’s going on? No Momma, I have to stay,” she yelled, beginning to cry. “What? No, Momma. I won’t leave you! I won’t run! Run…I’m running. In the woods…”

  “Elyse, listen to the sound of my voice. At the count of three, you’re going to wake up. One. Two. Three.”

  She opened her eyes, only to see Manning’s cold, cunning expression. Fear surged through her, verging on panic. She needed to get out of here, away from him.

  “Are you ready to face the reality that your mother murdered your family? You said you saw your mother, your sister, and your father. You didn’t see anyone else in the room. Besides, why would a stranger kill your sister and father but let your mother live? Your mother was a small woman. She could not have overpowered anyone with strength enough to kill your father.”

  She looked down, and the button on his jacket caught her attention. She tried to remember where she’d seen that emblem before.

  Under leaves, in the dirt…at the cabin.

  Her stomach churned, her body shook. Manning’s limp at the hospital. His almost desperate need for her to admit her mother’s guilt.

  “You know, Elyse, it’s fortunate you had the sleepover. If you had been home…”

  She looked at him and could imagine his face, not now, but as it was glaring at her from the corner of the bedroom, cove
red in the blood of her family. She jumped to her feet, struggling to control her breathing.

  “What happened to the button on your jacket?”

  “What?”

  “The button,” she yelled, pointing at the broken threads that once held a button.

  “I got into a scuffle with a patient, and it was torn off…what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she lied, trying to conceal the fear that had overtaken her. “I just…I need a break. It’s hot; I’m too warm. I need to go splash some cold water on my face.”

  She hurried into the bathroom and locked the door, leaning on it while she tried to control her breathing. She wasn’t positive, but Dr. Manning? Why would he have killed her family? And why had he tried to kill her? Right now, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was escaping and getting back to James.

  Okay, think. You have to get away from him before he realizes you remember.

  She went to the sink, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

  Turn on the water. He has to hear water.

  She turned the faucet and let the water run while she tried to formulate a plan. The only window in the bathroom was a single piece of frosted glass. She would have to remove the trim, and then the glass—it would be too loud and take too long. And there was no way she would fit through that tiny opening.

  “Elyse,” Dr. Manning said, knocking on the door, “are you all right?”

  Her breath caught in her throat.

  Don’t let him know. Just try to stay calm.

  “Yes. I’m fine. I’ll be right out.”

  Open the door and get out. Just get out…

  She took a deep breath, steadied herself, and opened the door. He was standing in front of it, blocking her exit.