Once Pined

by Blake Pierce

  How sad!

  This kitchen was her favorite room. It had ruffled curtains and pretty dishes lined up on painted shelves. She especially adored the old-fashioned canisters, which had belonged to her mother. They were decorated with colorful fruit and flowers, and were labeled for their intended ingredients—coffee, tea, sugar, flour, and the like.

  During her childhood, her mother had worked magic with the ingredients in those big-lidded tins. She remembered with special fondness Mother’s soft, brightly glazed orange cookies, which took a whole day to prepare and bake.

  Of course, those canisters now held very different ingredients.

  That was because life was very different.

  She wasn’t a little girl anymore.

  She had responsibilities now—responsibilities she didn’t always understand.

  Often it seemed perfectly clear why she must end people’s lives.

  Sometimes it was because someone was in pain or unhappy or lonely.

  Or sometimes it was because people were wicked and bad and had lived useless, harmful lives.

  Oddly enough, Cody Woods had been both of those kinds of people. She hadn’t known whether to pity him or hate him. All she knew was that she’d had to stop him.

  She wasn’t nearly so certain just why Amanda Somers had to die. But she’d felt that terrible necessity deep in her bones, and she’d known that it had to be done.

  Somehow, she always knew what had to be done, even when she didn’t understand why.

  She closed her eyes and again imagined herself soaring above the world on great black wings.

  But was it really just imagination?

  As time passed, she was becoming more and more convinced that those wings were real. She could actually feel them sprouting out of her shoulders. No one in the world could see them, but they really were there.

  She really was an angel.

  And like all angels, she had an eternity of work to do.

  It was lonely work—sometimes almost unbearably so.

  No one would ever understand.

  Now don’t go feeling sorry for yourself!

  She opened her eyes and shook off her reverie.

  She had some serious decisions to make.

  She’d been using thallium for a long time—much too long.

  Now the authorities would be watching out for it, and besides, it acted too fast—she needed something much, much slower.

  Fortunately, she’d already prepared to make the necessary change. But it wasn’t going to be easy. And it would place her own life in terrible danger. She had to be brave—and extremely careful.

  She got up and walked over to the kitchen counter and opened a lower cabinet. There was only one object inside—a little gray strongbox with a combination lock.

  She’d never written down the combination—it seemed too dangerous.

  But she’d practically engraved it on her memory.

  To the right thirteen, left thirty-six, then right again twenty-four.

  She wasn’t going to open it now, of course. The very idea made her shudder. Inside was a little vial with a rubber stopper that was hermetically sealed with something waxy. Inside the vial was a clear liquid.

  She’d stolen the vial about a year ago from a college chemistry lab, where it had been rather carelessly stored in a cabinet marked “REFERENCE TOXINS.”

  Whatever that means.

  At the time, she hadn’t known what a foolhardy risk she was taking just by handling the vial. Then she did some research that scared her half to death.

  Once she’d grasped how dangerous the substance was, she’d bought the little strongbox, locked the vial inside, and stored it under the counter where the temperature was cool and steady. She vowed never to touch the vial or even open the strongbox until the time came when she’d need to change her methods.

  And now, it seemed, that time had come.

  But did she have everything she needed?

  She knew she did, but decided to check anyway, just so she’d feel safer.

  She opened another cabinet and looked through its contents. Yes, most things she would need had been stored for safekeeping—a pair of laminated gloves, another pair of long-cuffed heavy-duty gloves, a set of chemical splash goggles, a supplied air respiratory system with a full-face mask, and a white lab coat.

  She giggled a little at the daunting array.

  So much armor, such a little bottle!

  The only thing missing was an eyedropper, and that would be easy to come by.

  All in all, the gear had cost her nearly a thousand dollars. But she had no doubt that it had been an excellent investment. She had always known that she would need it some day.

  Was she brave enough to use it now?

  Just then a cell phone rang. She walked over to the rack full of phones and saw that the call was for Esther Thornton.

  Oh, yes, Esther.

  She hadn’t been Esther for quite some time.

  Esther was an outwardly stern New Englander with a dry sense of humor. People didn’t always take to Esther right off the bat, but they always warmed up to her in just a few minutes. There was a world of warmth behind Esther’s formidable facade.

  She answered the phone.

  “Esther? This is Molly Braxton at Ormond Rehab.”

  She replied in a rough-edged New England accent.

  “Oh, yes, Molly. How are you? It’s been ages.”

  Molly chuckled.

  “Yes, it has, hasn’t it? Well, we’ve got a new patient who’s suffering from vertigo.”

  Her interest was piqued. She hadn’t dealt with a vertigo patient in a very long time.

  “Really? What’s the cause?”

  “Inner ear dysfunction. And of course, we need someone who can give the proper physical therapy.”

  “And you thought of me! I’m flattered. When do I start?”

  “As soon as you can get here, I suppose.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  She jotted down the information that Molly gave her and ended the call in Esther’s typically brusque manner. Then realized she ought to have asked a bit more about the patient. She didn’t even know the patient’s name or whether it was a man or a woman.

  Well, I’ll know soon enough.

  She’d also know pretty soon whether this patient was marked for life or for death.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Riley felt helpless as she looked out the airplane window at the slowly creeping landscape below. It would be hours before she got home.

  What might happen between now and then?

  What was happening right now?

  She got out her cell phone and typed a text message to Ryan.

  Has Jilly come home?

  A few seconds passed before Riley got a reply.

  No. I’m sorry.

  Riley typed a final line.

  I’m on my way.

  Ryan replied, I’m glad.

  Riley put the phone back in her bag and stared out the window again.

  “What are you thinking?” Bill asked.

  Riley had almost forgotten that he was sitting beside her.

  “I’m just feeling so—so over my head in everything,” Riley said.

  She was surprised to feel her throat catch. It was all she could do to keep from crying.

  “I wish there was something I could do,” Bill said.

  Riley squeezed his hand for a moment, then let go. She was glad he was here, and he was doing plenty just by sitting there and saying very little. She could trust Bill not to say a lot of stupid hopeful things, like, “I’m sure everything will be all right,” or, “She’ll be home any minute now, just you wait and see.”

  Shallow people always said things like that, and Riley hated it. But Bill always knew what to say and what not to say—and when to say nothing at all. Sometimes she felt that she didn’t appreciate him enough.

  “I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier,” Riley said.

  Bill didn’t repl
y.

  Maybe he’s still angry, Riley thought.

  “I was wrong,” Riley said.

  Bill’s furrowed his brow.

  “Maybe not. I don’t know. I’m not happy with how we left things back there. And …”

  Bill’s voice trailed off. Riley knew what he was leaving unsaid. He felt bad that he’d let his emotions run away with him. The childhood trauma of his mother’s poisoning had undermined his objectivity, made it hard for him to do his job, and now he felt like he was running away from it.

  But Riley couldn’t blame him. Some cases triggered terrible memories. She knew that from hard personal experience.

  “We had our orders,” Riley said. “We’re officially off the case.”

  “I don’t know, Riley. Let’s face it, neither one of us thinks we tied this case up with a nice little bow on top. Maybe we should have stayed, and to hell with orders. You know, sometimes I envy you your …”

  He seemed to be searching for the right word.

  “Stubbornness?” Riley asked with a smile.

  Bill smiled too.

  “Let’s just call it your healthy capacity for insubordination.”

  Riley let out a sad chuckle.

  “Yeah, well—you and I both know it’s going to get me fired for good one of these days.”

  Bill laughed softly.

  “At least you’ll have your integrity,” he said.

  “Integrity’s overrated.”

  “No it’s not.”

  Riley said nothing for a moment. She sat looking out the window again.

  “I don’t get it, Bill,” she said at last. “All I’m trying to do is give Jilly a safe and comfortable home. Back in Phoenix, she had good reason to run away. Her father was abusive and cruel, and God only knows what else she had to deal with. But I’ve done everything I can to make things better. Why is she still running away?”

  Bill thought for a few seconds.

  “It must all be new to her,” he finally said. “She never expected the kind of life you’re giving her. And she doesn’t … know how to live it, I guess.”

  Riley remembered what Ryan had told her recently.

  “She’s got a lot of self-image problems. No self-confidence.”

  Bill and Ryan seemed to be on the same wavelength about Jilly. Riley appreciated both of their insights.

  “Do you think she’ll learn?” Riley asked.

  Bill didn’t reply, just looked at her sympathetically.

  Riley sighed a little. No, it wasn’t Bill’s way to say stupid hopeful things—not when he didn’t know any better than she did whether things would get better. And that was just as well.

  She put pushed her seat back and closed her eyes. The rumble of the engines was comforting. She breathed slowly and let herself slip off to sleep.

  Riley was moving about through a thick, damp fog.

  She was all alone and didn’t know where to go.

  Then she saw a dim figure moving toward her.

  The mist lifted just a little, and Riley could see that it was her mother.

  “Mommy!” she cried out. “You’re all right!”

  But then came a flash and a bang, and suddenly there was a bleeding hole in Mommy’s chest.

  Mommy still stood there, looking faintly surprised. She touched the wound, then looked at her hand, which was covered with blood.

  Riley wanted to rush toward her, but found that her legs were rooted to the spot.

  “Mommy, we’ve got to get you to a hospital,” she said.

  “No,” Mommy said.

  “We’ve got to! If we don’t, you’ll die.”

  Mommy smiled sadly.

  “Oh, Riley, I’m dead already. I’ve been dead for a long time. Why are you always trying to fix things that can’t be fixed?”

  Riley’s mind boggled at the question.

  She felt as if it was one of the most important questions in the world.

  “How am I supposed to know the difference?” she asked.

  Mommy shook her head.

  “Just walk away, Riley,” she said.

  “But I don’t know where to go,” Riley said.

  Mommy turned away from her.

  “Just walk away,” she said again.

  Then she disappeared into the mist.

  A lurch of turbulence shook Riley awake. She could feel the plane descending. They’d be landing any minute now.

  She remembered her dream vividly, and its message was painfully clear. Her mother was trying to tell her that she was trying to do too many things, trying to solve problems that she couldn’t possibly fix.

  But how could she pick and choose?

  Should she give up on the case?

  Or should she give up on Jilly?

  Or was it something else altogether that she needed to give up?

  “Just walk away,” her mother had said.

  “Walk away from what?” Riley murmured to the window.

  She heard Bill’s voice right next to her.

  “Did you say something?”

  “No,” Riley said.

  She kept staring out the window, wondering where Jilly could be.

  CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

  By the time Riley pulled her car up to her townhouse, she could barely breathe from sheer anxiety. It was late and dark now, after nine o’clock. She hadn’t heard anything from home since her brief exchange of texts with Ryan on the plane.

  When she turned the knob and opened the door, the first thing she saw was Ryan rushing to meet her.

  “Jilly’s home,” he said. “She just got here moments ago.”

  Riley gasped from sheer relief. Her legs almost gave out from under her.

  “I’ve got to sit down,” she said.

  Gabriela and April were waiting for her in the living room and Riley plopped down on the couch to talk with them.

  “What happened?” she asked. “Where did Jilly go?”

  “The policía brought her home,” Gabriela said.

  “The police?” Riley asked.

  “They picked her up at a truck stop,” April said.

  Riley’s heart sank. She remembered the truck stop where she’d first found Jilly.

  Ryan sat down on the couch beside Riley.

  He said, “A woman at a truck stop—a hooker, I’m pretty sure—phoned the police and said an underage girl was wandering around there. She apparently talked to Jilly and then called the cops. They picked Jilly up, and she finally gave them your phone number. The cops called, and Gabriela answered. Then they brought her home.”

  Riley sat silently for a moment, trying to grasp what she’d just heard. What did the girl think she was doing? Was she trying to sell her body again? Riley had hoped that she’d put such horrible ideas behind her.

  “Where is she?” Riley asked.

  “Up in her room,” April said.

  Riley got up and walked toward the stairs.

  “Go easy on her, OK?” April said. “She’s pretty upset.”

  Riley was starting to feel angry as she walked up the stairs. But she was in no mood to scold anybody.

  She knocked on Jilly’s door.

  “Come in,” Jilly said.

  Riley opened the door and saw Jilly sitting on the edge of her bed. She had a box of tissues next to her. She’d obviously been crying.

  “I’m sorry,” Jilly said.

  Riley just stood there for a few seconds.

  Finally she said, “What happened, Jilly? Why did you do that?”

  “I said I’m sorry.”

  “You’re not answering my question.”

  Riley sat down on the bed beside Jilly.

  “April and I had a fight,” Jilly said.

  “What about?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I was wrong.”

  “What was it about, Jilly?”

  Jilly pulled a tissue out of the box and blew her nose. She let out a couple of sobs before she spoke.

  “This morning before school, I ate some yogur
t that belonged to her. It was in the refrigerator and it had her name on it, but I ate it anyway. She got kind of mad—not real mad, just kind of mad. And I got mad back and said some things I shouldn’t have. I kept thinking about it at school, and I knew I was wrong, and that was why I—”

  Jilly broke down in sobs, and Riley put her arm around her.

  She couldn’t get her mind around what Jilly had just said.

  All this on account of some yogurt?

  “But why did you go to a truck stop?” Riley asked. “What did you think you were doing?

  “The only thing I’ll ever be any good at.”

  Riley was quietly stunned. Did this child really think she’d never be any good at anything except selling her body?

  “Don’t say that,” Riley said. “Don’t ever say that. You’re good at all kinds of things. You just haven’t found out what they are yet. You’re smart, and you can learn. And we’re all here to help you.”

  “I’m nobody,” Jilly said.

  Riley lifted Jilly’s chin and looked her in the eyes.

  “You’re not nobody. If you were nobody, nobody would worry about you. But Ryan and April and Gabriela were all worried sick about you. And I was so worried about you that I came flying all the way across the country. I’d say you’re a pretty important person to get so many people so worked up about you.”

  Jilly laughed through her sobs. Riley hugged her tight.

  “No more of this running away stuff, OK?” Riley said.

  “OK.”

  “Now why don’t you come downstairs and spend some time with everybody.”

  Jilly shook her head.

  “Huh-uh,” she said. “I’ve got to get some homework done.”

  Riley smiled. She was pretty sure that Jilly’s real reason for not wanting to come downstairs was embarrassment.

  She patted Jilly on the shoulder and left the room. She saw that the door to April’s room was open, and April was sitting on her own bed. She’d been waiting to find out what had happened.

  “How’s she doing?” April asked in a quiet voice.

  Riley walked into the room and sat in a chair facing April.

  “I wish I knew,” Riley said. “This whole thing is new to me.”

  “Not so new,” April said. “I’ve been an even bigger pain over the years.”