by Rosa Sophia
“I was so close, Grandma. I found him.”
“I know, I’ve been watching you.” Julie smiled and stepped away. She smoothed out her dress and looked out the window. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”
“Could be better,” Kat said. Their voices seemed to echo, as though bouncing through the walls and back again.
There was something in Julie’s eyes that was pained, some unrelenting memory attacking her spirit. Kat acknowledged that it was probably John’s death that plagued her. Once the actual killer was behind bars, Julie would be satisfied and her ghost would cross the barrier between the worlds, finally able to rest.
Julie started toward the stairs and Kat realized this was the first dream she had ever experienced wherein the subject of the dream was already there. Her grandmother had not walked up the steps first. She had been in the hallway all along.
Kat felt someone tap her on the shoulder. She turned around and faced the wall. No one was there. The tapping grew more violent. It became prodding. She tried to cover her shoulders, but it only continued. Slowly, she became more aware of the pain all throughout her body. The searing headache returned and she squinted with a sudden stab of distress.
When she opened her eyes again, she saw the sky instead of a ceiling, a road instead of old wood floors and several gawking children instead of her kindly grandmother. When she sat up, the kids gasped and backed away.
“What?” she croaked. Her throat was bothering her and her head hurt more than ever.
“Why are you laying there?” one of the more brazen children inquired. He was pudgy and looked about eight years old.
“It’s what I do on my day off.” Kat looked around. She was in a development. “I lie on sidewalks and stare at the sky.”
The kid frowned. “Do people beat you up on your days off?” he asked, cocking his head. There were two little girls behind him, watching intently. Kat lifted a hand to her cheek, where she noted that her skin was swollen and tender.
“Sometimes, kid. Sometimes,” she muttered as she stood up. Her legs shook beneath her and she suddenly realized that she was starving. She must have made a face when she grasped her stomach, because the pudgy kid pulled a squished granola bar out of his pocket and thrust it forward.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Intensely,” Kat said, nodding. She took the granola bar gratefully and pulled open the wrapper. The kids watched her eat as though she were an exhibit in a zoo. “What time is it?” Kat inquired in between bites.
“We were just at my house. I think it’s after nine,” one of the girls offered, stepping out from behind her rotund friend.
“Nine in the morning?” Kat asked. It was a stupid question, she knew. The sun was at the right position in the clear sky and birds were chirping all around them. Every now and then, a car would pass either through the development or on the main road beyond. The little girl nodded. “Then I’ve been here all night,” Kat said, raising an eyebrow. “Did any of you hear any…?” She thought for a moment, trying to find words that children would understand. “Did you hear any bad people outside last night? Any cars coming in at odd hours?”
The smallest child of all three was a little girl that was probably about five years old. She had auburn pigtails and wore a pair of overalls. “I heard something.”
Kat knelt down, trying to ignore the pain in her legs. “What was it?”
“A car.” The girl scrunched up her face and frowned. “I don’t remember what time it was. I looked out the window. I wasn’t supposed to be awake,” she said conspiratorially, as though her parents were listening behind the nearest bush.
“What did the car look like?”
“Well, I couldn’t see it much. But it parked near a street lamp. It was white, with a door that opened up in the back.” She lifted a hand, to illustrate how the door had opened.
“A hatchback? The door went upwards, right?”
“Yeah,” the girl agreed, nodding.
“Did you see the license plate?”
“No.” The girl looked as though she didn’t even know what a license plate was.
“Lisa, you’re wrong!” the pudgy boy snapped.
“Shut up, Brian!” the smallest girl yelled.
“Hey, calm down. You’re going to attract attention to yourselves,” Kat warned. “Then everybody will want to know why I’ve been laying out here.” She glanced around again and realized that an old camper had concealed her in the night. Her attackers had been smart about where to leave her, so that only someone who was walking along the sidewalk would have found her. To her right, a clean-cut lawn led to a thick woodland area. She turned back to the children and decided to end their conversation before she thought about where she was and how she would get home.
“Why do you think Lisa is wrong?” she asked the boy, who was scowling at the girl beside him.
“That wasn’t the only car,” he said gruffly. “There was a green one, too.”
“Did they come at the same time?”
“No. I didn’t see the white one. I only saw the green one.”
“Did it have a door like the white one did?”
“No.”
“Did you see anyone get out? Do you remember the license number?” Kat asked.
This boy was older than the two girls and didn’t look as confused when she mentioned the car’s license plate. He thought for a moment and scratched his ear. “It was DR…something. I can’t remember.”
“Were you outside when you saw it?”
“Yeah, it was just after dark. My parents were having some stupid party and they wanted me to show them my Lego castle.” The boy grinned widely. “It’s really cool and it’s got—”
“Look, can you just tell me what you saw?”
“I didn’t see anything, really. I had to go in and get my castle. It’s so cool! Do you want to see it?”
Kat put her head in her hands. “I gotta get home.” She looked back at the woods, frowning. “Do any of you know where those woods go?”
The boy shrugged and the girls looked curiously at the trees.
“Some house,” Lisa said. “It’s a big one, with a barn.”
Kat pushed back her blond hair and turned around, ready to head for the road. She wasn’t about to risk the woods.
“Hey, lady,” one of the girls said.
“What?” Kat asked grumpily, turning around.
“You know you have red stuff on your head, right?”
“Probably. Hey, maybe I’ll see you kids some other time. Catch you later.”
And with that, Kat stumbled down the sidewalk and cut through someone’s yard. She made it to the road and carried herself, shaking and shivering, all the way back to her car. She didn’t know how she managed it, but somehow, she drove back to Corry’s house.
***
Before she made it to the front door, Jake emerged. There were bags under his eyes and his entire body looked ragged. He didn’t even have gel in his hair.
“Where the hell were you?” He ran to her and threw his arms around her. “I’ve been worried sick! What happened to you?”
“Jake, loosen up a little, will you? I can barely breathe.”
Corry came out of the kitchen and wrapped her arms around Katherine. “What happened?”
Jake moved away from her, but he didn’t take his hands off her shoulders, as though he were frightened a breeze would come and carry her away. Corry rubbed her back. “Are you okay? Why is there a bruise on your face? Who did that to you? Kat, Jesus Christ, there’s blood in your hair!”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You’re going to the hospital.” Jake started pulling her toward the car. Corry stepped back, watching, with the dog beside her.
“No!” Kat yelled. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Oh, yes you are. Whoever did this to you is not going to get away with it.”
“You’re right!” She wrested her arm from his grasp and walked across the living room. “I’m
going to be the one to stop them.”
“Katherine, this is crazy. You’ve been gone all night. Do you have any idea what’s going on here? Somebody wants you dead.” Jake marched forward and grabbed her again. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You must have a concussion or something. Now come on, we’re going to the hospital.”
“Jake, if she doesn’t want to,” Corry started.
Kat pulled away from him again. “I’m doing what I have to. And I don’t care if you’re around or not.” She stormed across the room and into the guest bedroom.
By the time she had slammed and locked the door, she realized what she had said. She had practically broken up with her fiancé, the only man she had ever really loved. Was it wrong that she was willing to throw away everything just for one little boy?
“Maybe I just wasn’t meant to be happy,” she whispered. “Maybe I was only meant to save John.” She slumped down against the door. “And I failed.”
She didn’t fight back the tears any longer. Jake was pounding on the door, calling her name. She could only weep. “Maybe this is it. I’ll help you, John,” she promised. “And maybe it’ll be the last thing I ever do.”
***
It was raining again on Cliff Island. Ike drenched a cheese sandwich in ketchup, took a big bite and picked up the phone. He had a couple of pieces of paper on the end table by his armchair. He sat down and peered at them while he dialed the number Katherine had given him.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “Did I wake you up?”
“No. I haven’t been able to sleep lately.”
“I know how that is.”
“Have you got the information?” Katherine asked eagerly.
“Yes, I do. You mind telling me what all this is about?”
“I might not have to tell you. You might find out on your own,” she replied. Ike found this statement unsettling, but he tried to ignore it. He picked up his papers and read through the notes that he had made.
“Let’s see.” He made a clicking noise with his tongue as he scanned the page. “Went to Temple, got kicked out in his first year.”
“Why?”
“It doesn’t say. If it’s not listed, it means this guy has some influential friends to help support him.”
“What else?”
“He went to Harvard Law a couple years after Temple ditched him. He excelled.”
“I should think he did,” Kat remarked shakily.
“You okay? You sound like you’re not doing too well this morning.”
“Long story, buddy. What else did you find out?”
“His years in Harvard seem untouched by any suspicious stuff. But after he got out of school and got a house, he was convicted of insurance fraud and went to jail for a few years.”
“No fucking way.”
“It’s true, Kat. Excuse me a second.” Ike took another big bite out of his sandwich and set the dish back on the end table. He picked up his papers again. She waited while he chewed his food. “You don’t mind if I eat, do you?”
“Not at all.”
“Good. Okay, let’s see here.” Ike read down the list. “He defended a man named Jonas Conner, a guy who shot up somebody’s house in Philadelphia and claimed insanity. Incidentally, Mr. Conner was found guilty. He was perfectly sane. Next up—our friend defended several known con artists in the courtroom. Some of them were involved with the mafia.”
“Shit.”
“Convicted of insurance fraud again. And that was only in his late twenties. There’s a lot of petty stuff, too. He tried to use credit cards that weren’t his, cashed checks he pulled out of mailboxes. This guy is a real money grubber.”
“I assume that he stopped all that once he got his business.”
“Oh, yeah. Early thirties, he teamed up with his partner. Like I said, he must have some influential buddies, because I couldn’t find many details. All you need is a couple of friends in the FBI or the CIA and you’re golden. Hell, even a few cops. But I’m betting he’s got friends in at least two of those categories, if not all three.”
Kat slumped against the wall and sighed as she put a hand to her aching skull. She found the words and spoke again, licking her dry lips. “Allen Ryman sure gets around.”
***
Kat set up her easel in the guestroom. When she put a brush to the canvas, it came out strangely, as though her hand had a brain and it was thinking differently than the rest of her.
She painted what she thought her assailant’s house might look like, assuming it had been the house they’d taken her to. Where had it been? She had heard someone’s shoes clicking. They sounded like dress shoes.
Kat couldn’t believe the details had stuck in her head. The feeling of the floors beneath her feet and the sounds she heard around her. She remembered extending her feet as she’d sat there, feeling the lines and indentations in the floor. Her sneakers were very worn. The floors had seemed as though they were made out of wood.
It was too bad there were probably thousands of houses in the world with floors of that description.
Katherine was nearing the end of her investigation. She had found John’s body and she was beginning to unravel more of the clues that would hopefully lead her to uncovering everything. But after what happened last night, was John’s body even out there anymore? Had her attackers seen her frantically covering the spot? She remembered Earl Woodworth and began to wonder where his body had gone.
“I’m tired of looking for carcasses,” she muttered to herself.
She could barely sleep, she hadn’t eaten much at all and she had almost broken up with Jake—yet still she forged on. Anyone else might have wondered if it was really worth it. Anyone normal might have given up. Katherine would never give up.
When Corry was at work the next day and Jake was out looking for a job, the doorbell rang. Peter Edwards was standing there with two other cops. Two squad cars were parked at the side of the road.
“What’s going on?” Katherine asked. Jonny barked.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Maslin,” Edwards muttered, as if apologizing for something he hadn’t said yet. “You don’t look so good. What happened to your eye?” He pulled a pair of handcuffs off his belt.
“What—what’s happening?” Kat stammered. One of the other cops stepped forward, taking the handcuffs from Edwards.
“Turn around, please, Ms. Maslin,” the cop said.
When he began reciting her rights, Katherine knew iron bars would impede her next course of action. She was taken to the hospital, where she was told that she had suffered a concussion. They wanted to know who had drugged her, but she couldn’t answer them. She was bandaged and sent to jail, to await her hearing.
***
Jonny sat on the floor and watched Corry as she paced and muttered to herself. Her hands were shaking. Her best friend was in the county jail, and she didn’t have enough to bail her out. Neither did Kat’s mother, who was now aware of the situation. When she saw Janis Crow’s dark green Jeep Wrangler pull into the driveway, her hands tightened into small fists. Her heart pounded. She threw open the front door.
Janis bustled into the house wearing a calico caftan. Red hair furled around her soft face.
“Oh, honey, here I am!” she exclaimed. “You just get back from work?”
Corry nodded. It was almost six o’clock. Janis closed the door behind her. “I saw the news about your friend. What’s she gotten herself into?”
“She’s trying to solve a murder,” Corry said bitterly, wringing her hands. In the kitchen, Jonny was sniffing his empty food bowl. Janis shuffled across the linoleum and grabbed the bowl. The dog watched her attentively as she filled it. Janis set the bowl down, straightened and brushed off her hands.
“Did she really kill him?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“No, she would never kill anyone. Jonathan Stark was staying at her house. I had gone with her to talk to him. He said someone was after
him, so she wanted to protect him. I should have never gone home. I should have stayed with them.
“Jake told me about a note she found. She’s been trying to track down whoever killed Stark. And this morning, she came home in a complete mess, had a fight with Jake and locked herself in the guest room. I had to leave for work. She called me from the jail.”
“What happened last night?” Janis urged Corry to sit with her on the couch. She took her hand.
“I don’t know. She looked like someone had beaten her up. I tried to talk to her before I left, but she wouldn’t tell me anything. We were worried about her all night. Something happened to her. Somebody got to her.”
Janis squeezed her hand. “How much is bail?”
“I don’t know, the arraignment hearing is set for tomorrow.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Janis stood up and headed for the door. “Would you like to come with me?”
“Yeah.” Corry patted Jonny on the head, not at all surprised by her friend’s generosity. “We’ll be back,” she told him, “with Kat.”
Meanwhile, the media was growing out of control. Everyone wanted to know where Kat had been over the summer.
Rumors spread and people concocted theory after theory, but not even the police could answer that question. Where had Katherine Maslin gone? Despite questioning, Kat had refused to admit where she’d spent the summer or where she had been the night before. Information leaked out that she’d been found in a forest wearing a housedress from the 1950s, and some questioned whether there was cult involvement.
The cops wanted to know who had hit her, but she wouldn’t say—or couldn’t. She rambled on about a house with wood floors and a man in dress shoes, but the cops that she spoke with didn’t have the patience to decipher her claims.
Around seven o’clock, a plump woman in a multi-colored caftan asked to speak with Katherine. She identified herself as Janis Crow, Katherine’s therapist, and told the cops she hoped to find out where Kat had been during the night.
The arraignment hearing was scheduled for the next day. Katherine was to spend the night in the county jail.