Lights Out

by Jill Cooper

  My backpack swung with me, as if it were an extension of who I was, mounted on my back like a turtle shell. Everything in the world that I owned or wanted to keep with me.

  I should’ve kept an ear or something from my two kills so far. A finger or another kind of trophy. Wasn’t that what people did? I had to be losing my mind to the pain.

  Blinking hard, I pushed myself up from the sled and dismounted, only landing on my good leg.

  I’d parked close to the building, making it easier to reach out and stabilize myself as I hopped toward the door. The eerie pools of light spilling from the windows created snow-filled haloes like suspended globes above the night. I avoided them like acid.

  I pulled the employee entrance open quietly. I glanced back over my shoulder, my breath puffing in a white cloud.

  The locker room was right next to the supply closet. I could grab some supplies and then hide in a shower stall. I couldn’t count the many times I’d walked the hospital after my son’s murder. How often I’d been in there stalking Sylvia or Karen. I knew the building better than I knew my own husband.

  In my pain filled haze, tenderness for the man I’d once loved brought a tear to my eye. I dashed it away. Weakness wasn’t allowed when you were trying to survive. If you lost it, you died.

  Each slow hop took more and more energy, like a tight whirlpool claiming my reserves.

  But I made it. I grabbed wraps, ice packs, and a handful of bottles out of a cabinet that I’d inspect in the shower.

  If I dwelled on the last couple hours and how I’d failed, my rage would mount. I didn’t even check my phone or turn it on. I was tempted. I wanted to talk to Clyde, know where he was and everyone else in town, but I didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t want to reopen any dialogue with him.

  The only reason I wanted to talk to him was so I didn’t feel so alone. But I’d been alone for so long now. So horribly alone.

  I fingered the edge of my phone butting against the corner of the small pocket of my pack and shook my head.

  If I had time after…maybe. But most likely not. Vengeance had a plan all its own.

  But, for a second, I had to consider what Clyde would’ve done, if he’d understood my pain. Understood my loss. Would he have stood by me as I sought the peace I desperately needed? Somethings were better left unasked.

  I hauled my stash into the locker room and hobbled to the stalls on the end. Closing the door, I sat on the bench and leaned against the partition, closing my eyes and trying to control my breathing.

  After a moment the door squeaked open, and the locker room echoed back a voice I heard in my nightmares where I lost my son and she continued reassuring me, telling me everything was going to be okay.

  How would anything ever be okay again? What did that even mean? A shiver slithered over me and I bit my lip.

  Karen whispered out in a demanding tone, “I don’t like being threatened, Sylvia.”

  Chapter 14

  Sylvia

  She ducked under the portcullis outside the parking garage of an old bed and breakfast. All the lights were off and a sign was up declaring the business was closed for the duration of the season. That’s right. The Mortensons always went to Arizona for the month of December.

  Sylvia gripped the phone with one hand and slammed her thinly covered elbow through the single pane door window. Glass sliced through her shirt, but didn’t do more than scrape her skin.

  Reaching in, she unlocked the door and swung it open. She needed warmer clothes and something to eat.

  She sighed, speaking into the phone. “Have you gotten anywhere private, Karen?” The stupid nurse had the gall to call Sylvia at three in the morning. She couldn’t even be in an appropriate place to talk.

  Moving to stand beside the kitchen counter, Sylvia searched the cabinets as she waited for Karen to get her act together.

  “I don’t like being threatened, Sylvia. I certainly don’t appreciate you sending someone to get the information from me.” Karen held it together. In fact, she didn’t sound close to tears like normal.

  Sylvia paused in her search, confused. “I didn’t send anyone after you.”

  “Right. You didn’t send anyone? I was assaulted here at my own job. They ransacked my locker, taking anything they could find.” Karen’s sarcasm empowered her tone.

  Sylvia gritted her teeth. “What’d they find, Karen?”

  “Hard copies of what I’m turning into the police tomorrow. I’m not going down with you on this. I’m turning myself in before anything else happens. You didn’t meet me, so that’s on you.”

  “Have you seen the weather? And just so you know, she’s out there. Killing. Terri is coming after me.” Sylvia stared out the window, headlights from a passing snow plow illuminating the desolate snow covered landscape. “What if she’s coming after you?”

  “She’s out there? I’m going to the police. This has gone on long enough. How many people are you willing to destroy?”

  Desperate, Sylvia squeezed her eyes shut; the alcohol buzz had long since worn off. “Meet me.”

  “I can’t.” Karen’s whisper was more formal than Sylvia had ever heard it. Like she’d made up her mind and there was no going back.

  “Why? I promise I don’t have any more lunatics after you.” Condran must have made some calls when Sylvia fell into a stupor earlier that night. “Condran’s dead. He must have called someone.” She didn’t feel anything but fear that she would get in the crossfire between this killer and Terri.

  “No, I’m taking it to the police.” Karen’s voice hardened further.

  “Meet me now.” Sylvia’s voice took on the edge of superiority she used to get her way at work.

  Something in Karen responded to her tone. She hesitated. “Terri needs to know, you haven’t even told her. She deserves to know.”

  “Is Jay with you?” Sylvia pinched the bridge of her nose. The less people involved the better. It was one thing to lose a baby not even born because she was negligent, but she’d never actually had to kill anyone with her bare hands with intent. It went against her oath.

  She ignored the hypocrisy of the sentiment.

  “No. We broke up. I’ll meet you. But, Sylvia? You’re not going to change my mind.”

  “That’s fine. I just want to talk. “Meet at the south docks. The coast should be clear. Deserted. We can see anyone approaching if we need to.” Sylvia didn’t plan on changing Karen’s mind. She’d just try to bash it in for her, if need be.

  Chapter 15

  Clyde

  Clyde made sure Jay’s car would make it out of the snow before he left the donut shop. Anxious, his stomach was turned into knots. He had to find Terri before she discovered the house was gone. All of Bobby’s things, all of their things… Terri might be angry and confused, but Clyde was afraid what she’d think when she heard the news.

  There was a silver lining, if Clyde could even call it that. Everything that Jay had told him about Karen and Sylvia was everything Terri needed to hear. If he could tell her, find her, maybe they could start to put everything back together. Maybe it’d be what Terri needed to finally reach acceptance. Maybe a bit of peace.

  First things first. Clyde started the truck. Scrolling through his cell phone, Clyde called Terri. When that didn’t work, Clyde tried calling her mother, and even Janice Bernsen--a woman Terri had worked with before their son had died. Back when everything was normal. Back when they had a life.

  “Sorry to bother you, Janice,” Clyde said, “but I was wondering if there was a remote chance, you had seen Terri.”

  “Terri? Heavens no. I haven’t seen Terri in quite a while. Are you kids all right?”

  No, no. They weren’t all right, but Clyde couldn’t tell her that. “Thanks anyway, Janice. If you do happen to see Terri, let her know I’m looking for.”

  “Well, of course.” In the background, Clyde could hear the clicking of dishes. “You keep safe in that storm, Clyde.”

  He’d do that.
He sure would.

  Clyde didn’t want to work himself up, but he was worried about Terri. She wasn’t answering her calls, and she hadn’t found out about the house, where could she be? Could she be stranded somewhere, or hurt? That was the last thing Clyde wanted to think about.

  He dialed the police station and put in a call to the sergeant who had been working the case about his house fire. “Hey, Paul, sorry to bother you. I was wondering if there is any police report that might match Terri’s description.”

  “Still can’t find her, eh?” The gruff voice answered on the other end.

  “Nope,” Clyde was feeling a little testy how everyone kept asking that question. Was he chasing Terri too hard? She was still his wife. If he wanted to call, and make sure she was okay, Clyde was going to do just that.

  “Wish I could help you, Clyde. But none of the calls that come in match anything that you’d be interested in. Listen, I gotta go. A lot of bad shit happened tonight.”

  Other than his house? “What happened, Paul?”

  Paul sighed and he muttered a response. “Judge Condran’s house. I don’t know if it’s the storm, or something else, but his house burned down too.”

  Clyde’s heart skipped a beat and he knew this was a bad sign. If Condran had sent the man after Karen, and then Condran himself was dead... Terri might be in real trouble. She might be next. “Jesus, is he okay?”

  “Jesus might be okay, but Condran is dead, someone got him, and then burnt down the house. Listen, Clyde, if I hear anything about Terri, I promise to put a call in. Now you go ahead and stay off those roads.”

  Clyde’s hands felt numb even though he didn’t feel cold at the notion that his house fire might be designed to cover up her murder. Terri was supposed to be home so it was likely whoever started the fire meant to kill her.

  Meant to kill his wife.

  He had to find her. Had to find her before someone else did.

  ****

  Clyde drove to Terri’s favorite donut shop. It was a little ways from the house, but close to the hospital where she spent a lot of her time. Going to see therapists, spending time in the infant wing. Terri always was into self-torture, could never really let those little babies go. If she was going to go somewhere and hide out, Clyde had money on the donut shop—or the hospital.

  The donut shop was like a ghost town. The wind howled and the snow blew against the windows. The red vinyl seats in the booths were vacant except for one little man stirring a spoon into a cup of coffee. Old Charles McNichol was behind the counter, wiping it down, like he expected the dinner crowd to rush in at any moment.

  Clyde rubbed his hands together for warmth as he slid into a bar stool. “Hey, Chuck.”

  Charles was already pouring Clyde a hot cup of coffee into an old white mug. Didn’t matter that the rim was cracked. “What brings you in tonight?”

  Clyde sipped the hot brew and appreciated its warmth. “Worries on my mind. Looking for my wife, Terri.”

  “Terri?” Charles shook his head. “I haven’t seen her since yesterday. Before you got here. She picked up her favorites and headed on her way.”

  Strawberry frosted—with sprinkles. Clyde sighed. Next stop was the hospital. He threw down a couple of crumpled dollar bills as he stood from the barstool. “Thanks anyway. Hopefully, I’ll see you around.”

  As he said that, the lights overhead began to blink. One, two, and then it happened the lights went out for a split second. When they came back on, Chuck shook his head. “Too much more of that and the lights are going to stay out for good. If I’ve seen it once, I’ve seen it a million times. This storm’s a doozy. We’re all in for tonight. Should head home and keep warm.”

  Minus the fact his wife was missing and his house was a charred mess, Clyde might have taken that advice. With a feeble smile, he turned.

  The old man in the booth wasn’t stirring his coffee anymore. He wore a fleece-lined flannel, blue and black checkered. The sleeves were so long his fingers nearly disappeared inside of it and he had wild crazy hair but his blue eyes were as alert as ever.

  “Your wife, the one who always orders a strawberry frosted. I know her. Seen her. From here, she always drives up by my place.”

  Clyde scowled, his eye rounded together. Was this old fat keeping tabs on him? “What’s up by your place?”

  The old man sipped his coffee. “The easy self-storage center. Sanderson’s. I always wondered what she was doing going up there, but I never got the courage to ask. All I do know is she has storage unit.”

  A storage unit? Funny, Terri had never mentioned a storage unit before. What could she be keeping there that she wanted to remain hidden from him? Could it have something to do with his son? “Thanks.” Clyde nodded and then was on his way. Weather might be tough, but if Terri was at a storage center, that’s where he needed to be.

  ****

  The weather just wasn’t bad, it was downright frightful. The windshield wipers whipped back and forth, fast as they could. Clyde squinted just so he could keep his eyes on the road and it was near white out conditions. There were no other tracks in the snow, and it made staying on the road dangerous. He had to inch along slowly, if he was ever going to make it in one piece.

  Finally, Clyde drove up to a sign that was covered in white snow, but the blue letters were still easy to make out. It said Sanderson Storage, it was surrounded by a chain-link fence. Piles of fresh snow, fluffy like powder which the open. Clyde drove through the gate and through the amber streetlamps, flurries of snow graced quickly down to earth. Clyde parked his truck beside the flashing sign for the front office.

  Inside, he stopped his boots. Blowing onto his hands he called out, “Hello?”

  Except for a messy desk, cluttered with the computer and piles of white paper and pink receipts, the room was empty. Whoever was supposed be watching the front desk, wasn’t here.

  There wasn’t much of an organizational system. The cluttered desk had more used styrofoam cups than anything. Clyde fumbled with them and finally pushed them away, beneath them he found a log book.

  Perfect. Just what he needed.

  Clyde flipped through the pages, licking his finger as he went. His breath stopped when he saw Terri’s name. She really did have a storage unit on rent—number thirty three.

  Could she be there? Hunkered down with whatever secret it was she kept there? Only one way to find out.

  Clyde hurried out into the snow. When the wind picked up, he pushed his hat down further onto his head to keep his ears warm. Trotting, the snow was crunched by his heavy construction boot. Rows of storage units were in front of him, and it took only a few minutes to find the row where storage unit 33 belonged.

  The door was slit open. Clyde sighed with relief that Terri might actually be here. She might be safe. “Terri?” He called out with hope.

  But as his boot hit the entryway and squished beneath the soft blanket, all that hope ran away like a river of thick blood.

  A man was dead. His vacant eyes staring up at the ceiling with his mouth still fallen open in the shape of an O. There was a wooden stake sticking from his chest. This man had been gutted. This man…

  The feeling went out of Clyde’s legs. They wobbled and he had to grab onto the doorframe to keep from falling. This man was killed in Terri’s storage unit.

  Terri wouldn’t answer his calls.

  Terri could barely stand to look at them.

  Had he been stupid? Had he missed the signs right in front of him?

  Staring around at the bits and pieces of supplies Terri had left behind, a horrible thought occurred to him. “Oh, Terri,” he whispered with horror. Grief.

  What if Terri’s life wasn’t in danger? What if Terri was the one doing the killing?

  Chapter 16

  Terri

  I bit my lip to keep from crying out. Quietly, I wrapped the splinted wrap around my lower leg.

  Karen’s conversation came in hushed pieces, but it was obvious who she was talk
ing to.

  Sylvia.

  And what they had been talking about.

  I’d be hanged before I’d lose my chance at finding Sylvia. I had to get her. Damned leg injury or not.

  Wrapping the leg as tight as possible, I chewed on the side of my tongue when I hobbled to my feet.

  Karen resignedly agreed to meet Sylvia somewhere. She hung up.

  I didn’t even care what they were talking about. I couldn’t care. I had to get my revenge before anything else in my plan fell apart.

  With Karen so close, was I being stupid letting her go? Would I be able to keep up with her when she left to meet Sylvia?

  I gulped air, anxious to get a handle on the pain.

  Karen hung up, nervous mumblings reaching me as she seemed to pace.

  The door opened and shut. That was it. I was out of time.

  Following her sounded so easy, looked so easy on mystery movies but with a more-than-likely broken leg, even peeing sounded like a monumental task.

  But I did it. I braced myself on the lockers and walls as I limped past, gaining speed as I half-hopped on my uninjured leg. Mexico was sounding better and better every minute.

  She ducked out the side door, heading south. There wasn’t much south of the hospital except the lake and city hall.

  Not a lot of places I could lean.

  Metal railings laced the sidewalks for most of the way to the lakeside. Sandpoint stuck out like an ill-formed peninsula with rivers and lake ways protruding under bridges and dividing the town with fingers of water.

  Docks broke up the black choppy surface of the lake. Frigid snow whirled around, dancing and mocking me with its carefree movements. I didn’t have to touch the nightly liquid to know it would be below freezing but so deep it wouldn’t freeze.