Lies Come True

by Emerald O'Brien

  Lies Come True

  The Avery Hart Trilogy - Book One

  Emerald O’Brien

  Copyright © 2015 by Emerald O’Brien

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  Cover designed by Najla Qamber Designs (www.najlaqamberdesigns.com)

  Interior design by Jade Eby (www.jadeeby.com/services)

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  All rights reserved.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to any events, locales, or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  For my grandparents.

  Betty and Jim, you’ve always been there for me, and through my writing journey, your support has been paramount. Your kind words, encouragement, and love have contributed to every part of my life. Your love for each other is unlike any I’ve ever seen. I’ve learned so much from both of you about life and how I want to live it. I couldn’t be more thankful to have you both in mine.

  Grandmother and Granddad, I am blessed to have had you in my life for as long as I did. You taught me about the importance of family, and you were so proud to be the head of ours. You were both pillars of strength and warmth. You always believed in me and I like to think you’re watching all of us now. You are truly missed by all your loved ones, and we think of you often.

  Chapter 1

  The whistling woke her up. It was a quick, unfamiliar tune that sounded joyful.

  Pain shot through her leg, and forced her to roll over on her side. The path felt cold beneath her arm and leg.

  “Help.” She whimpered out into the park.

  Blood poured from where the bullet had ripped through the side of her calve. She cupped her hand over her wound and felt the warm blood coat her fingers. When she applied pressure, her hand jumped off of the wound, and she yelped in pain.

  She wiped her hand on her shorts and strained her neck to look back down the path, toward the whistling.

  She took a deep breath and yelled. “Help, I’m over here.”

  Trees surrounded her, and as the sunset cast their shadows across the path, she could make out a dark figure.

  She scrambled to stand, and her leg burned as she eased pressure onto it. When she turned back, the whistling stopped, and the figure ran toward her.

  Everything in her told her to run.

  Her foot hit the ground for the first time, held all her weight for a moment, and in that moment, the pain was worse than anything she had ever felt.

  She saw the dark figure from the corner of her eye, still shrouded by the shadows as it approached, and something swayed behind it.

  She turned back up the trail, and pushed herself to go forward. The next few strides hurt less than the first. She picked up her pace, and squinted into the last of the sunlight, as her heart pounded in her chest.

  She took deep breaths as she pushed herself harder, confident that she was gaining ground, and when she reached a clearing by the lake, she looked back.

  It was a man, or what looked like one, but his face was white. And red.

  He lunged past the place she laid bleeding only seconds before with a rifle over his shoulder.

  She turned before anything else registered, back toward the street she parked on just behind the bushes at the end of the path. She heard the footsteps behind her slap against the path, and when she looked back she saw the figure clearly.

  He wore a mask and wild strands of dirty hair flew behind it in the wind. The eye holes were dark, but the face looked wrinkled, pale, and bloody.

  She forced herself forward, closer to the road behind the bush. She watched a car drive by, and if she wasn’t mistaken, it slowed before disappearing behind the tree line.

  Someone pulled into the parking lot. Someone’s coming to help me.

  Her leg felt numb underneath her, and she focused on reaching the car.

  A repetitive animalistic grunt was added to the sound of the feet pounding the pavement behind her and the sound of a car door slammed in the parking lot.

  The rhythm her legs kept fell out of sync, and each stride was more painful than the last. She looked over her shoulder as she started to limp, and in that time, she saw enough to make her scream.

  She jerked away and tripped over her tangled feet.

  She heard barking as her body hit the ground, and howls mixed with her screams, which eventually drowned out everything else.

  Fiona fought to keep her eyes open, but they closed as the last of the sun dipped below the horizon.

  Chapter 2

  Avery

  Avery cracked into her fortune cookie over the table as the credits of her favourite TV show started to roll. A muffled cry from the baby next door rang through the wall behind her and she turned the volume up to drown out the wails. She pulled the tiny piece of paper from the cookie bits, and the news came on as she unfolded her fortune.

  “…at Birch Falls Park on Glenn, and Fourth Street, in Birch Falls, Ontario, less than three hours north of Toronto…” The reporter droned on, but Avery focused on reading the paper.

  You will soon gain something you have always wanted.

  Avery read it twice, set it down beside the broken cookie, and folded up the small box of left over veggie noodles.

  “Peace and quiet?” She grumbled as she gathered the boxes, and took them to the kitchen fridge. “I doubt the Donovans are moving anytime soon.”

  As she made her way back to the living room, the baby cried again, as if to taunt her. She’d thought about tapping on the wall, writing them a letter, and even paying the Donovans a visit, but the simple fact was, babies cried.

  At all hours.

  She tried to sympathize with the parents, but when it came time for her early morning classes, she cursed them.

  She grabbed the napkins from the table, and threw them in the garbage, before she settled in on her soft couch again. When she looked at the TV, she did a double take.

  Her mouth hung agape as she focused on the picture beside the reporter.

  “This man is considered armed and dangerous. Please contact the Crown River Regional Police with any information you may…” The segment was ending, and the picture disappeared from the screen, as a phone number crawled along the bottom.

  That has to be wrong.

  She stared at the screen, stunned, as they began to broadcast a different story.

  She thought about calling the news station, but they wouldn’t have any more information, and she had already seen the sketch. That was the part that mattered.

  For a moment she thought about calling the number on the business card in her purse.

  The only one she carried.

  Instead, she sat still on the couch, and twisted her blonde hair around her finger.

  What if she was wrong? What if she only imagined the picture was familiar? That’s what Inspector Jacoby would tell her. She wondered why she hadn’t torn up that business card after he gave it to her. She thought about calling her parents, but they’d say the same thing as Jacoby. Sadie might listen, might even believe her.

  The feeling that glued her to the couch turned into something she recognized.

  She couldn’t be sure what she saw. That’s what they told her after all and that’s what finally stuck after years of therapy.

  Avery took a deep breath, turned off the TV, and tossed the remote across the couch. She went to the sliding glass door and took in the view of the town’s landscape from above. Lights twinkled down the main roads, trees on hilltops blew in the breeze, and the sky was a deep blue. She tugged on the door handle, and pressed the lock up tight against the resistance she felt. After pulling the curtains closed, she hurried to the front door of the apartment, and ran her
fingers over each lock. One, three, four, and five.

  Everything in its place.

  Once she was ready for bed, she pulled on the latch of her bedroom window, and when she was satisfied with its resistance, she hopped into bed.

  Even in her shorts and tank top, the room felt hot, and she kicked her blanket off. Her mind raced and she couldn’t get her mind off the police sketch.

  If it was real, she thought, she had to tell someone. She thought about all the calls the police would receive, and how silly hers would sound among them. Even if she was sure of what she saw, who would believe her?

  She snuggled her face against the cool pillow, and closed her eyes as she worked to clear her thoughts.

  It’s just your imagination Avery. It was a long time ago. Let it go.

  She fought to push the image away, and when the goose bumps covered her arms and legs, she covered her body with the blanket again. After several deep breaths, she drifted off.

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  It was chasing her, but this time, Avery knew she was dreaming. The tall figure was reaching out for her, and her screams echoed through the woods. Avery tried to look ahead, but her dream-self slowed down, looking back.

  She saw the figure coming for her; it’s pale, motionless face coming closer and closer.

  Turn around, she yelled at herself, but dream Avery was repeating the events of that day.

  The figure was only a few paces behind, reaching its arms out for her. The face was white and wrinkly, and she locked eyes with the black holes, just as she seemed to lose her footing.

  That’s what she thought she did. She thought she tripped, and the thing was going to grab her, but instead, she was falling.

  The day of the attack, she realized she ran off the ledge only moments before she hit the water, but in her dream, she knew where she was the whole time.

  Avery woke up just before she sunk into the Crown River, and gasped for breath.

  It was a dream she had many times in the past, but the face of her attacker had never been so vivid.

  She threw the covers off of her body, and realized she had been sweating when the cool air hit her skin. She scrambled out of bed, down the hall, towards the front door where she kept her purse on the table. She grabbed her wallet and yanked out the card.

  There was no mistaking the face in her dream with the sketched face on the TV.

  To her, it was the same one.

  The reporter called it a mask, the same thing everyone had told her when she woke up in the hospital ten years prior.

  She knew it had to be true, but in her memory, her attacker was a monster.

  She grabbed her cell phone and began to punch in the numbers from the card. If she could help to lock this guy up, to finally catch him, this would be worth it. To stop this monster from hurting anyone else, so that no one had to feel what she felt that day, and what lingered in the darkest corners of her mind ever since.

  Regardless of what Jacoby told her, she had to make the call.

  Then it would be his problem, but as the phone rang, she knew that was just something she said to make herself feel better.

  It was her problem, and it always would be.

  Chapter 3

  Inspector Jacoby’s number directed her to the voice mail of Inspector Noah Cotter. Not expecting the change, Avery hung up. She decided to wait until morning, and although she hadn’t slept much, she was thankful she had some time to compose herself.

  She could remember the nightmare, although the scenes had begun to fade from her mind, her memory of the night before was clear. The police sketch was of the same mask her attacker had worn. If it was just a coincidence, or the masks were mass produced, she’d feel better knowing she tried.

  The truth was that she hoped it was him.

  She called Jacoby’s number at nine that morning, and this time, she got an answer.

  “Inspector Noah Cotter here. How can I help you?”

  “Hello. I’m sorry. I was hoping to be put in touch with Inspector Jacoby, but his number redirects me to yours.”

  Avery opened her curtains and beams of sunlight filled the living room.

  “Ah, yes, Inspector Jacoby retired not long ago. May I ask what the call is regarding?” His voice was gruff and smoky.

  “I… he was an Inspector on my case ten years ago. It’s probably silly that I expected him to have the same number. I’ll just call the hotline. Thank you Inspector…”

  “Cotter.”

  There was silence on the line for a moment and she wasn’t sure she could do it at all. When she thought of the girls she saw taking short cuts through the woods at school, she sat down on the couch, and spat the words out.

  “I might have some information regarding a police sketch I saw on the news last night.”

  “Well, I can direct your call to the appropriate person, but since I’ve been assigned all of Inspector Jacoby’s old cases, may I ask what this has to do with you?”

  “The mask. I was attacked by someone wearing the same mask I saw on the news last night.”

  “Ms…?”

  “Hart. Avery Hart.”

  “Would you have time to come in today and make a statement? I could take it directly to the Inspector on the case.”

  “Sure,” Avery hesitated, “I can come right now.”

  When Avery arrived at the department, she checked in at the front desk, and was shown to Inspector Cotter’s office. It was small, with no windows, and smelt like something sweet. The desk had no picture frames, but Avery noticed a painting on the wall. Seagulls flying over the open water. A pair of glasses sat by the computer, near a mug of coffee that had a picture of golf clubs on the side.

  She waited for a few minutes, until she heard the familiar voice behind her.

  “Ms. Hart? I’m Inspector Cotter.” He strode in beside her and stopped at the side of his desk.

  When she looked up, she saw a young man, with short brown hair. He was well dressed, and his honey brown eyes smiled down at her. He looked younger than his voice suggested, but she loved the way her name sounded when he spoke.

  “Nice to meet you. Thank you for seeing me.” Avery stood, and tilted her head back slightly to maintain eye contact.

  She shook his hand and when he smiled at her, she sat back down again. A hint of cologne was left behind as he took a seat behind his desk and the scent made her feel nostalgic for something she couldn’t put her finger on.

  “No problem.” He opened his desk drawer, grabbed a pen, and she looked down at a brown paper bag on the desk.

  “Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess in here.” He grabbed the bag and threw it into the garbage. “Probably shouldn’t be having cinnamon buns for breakfast anyway.”

  He smiled at her, and she gave him a tight lipped smile back. He leaned his broad shoulders forward.

  “Okay,” He pulled his laptop closer, and slipped his glasses on. “Start wherever you think necessary.”

  Avery stared at him. She was expecting to be drilled with questions, as she was on the day of her attack, but she hadn’t been prepared to be in control of her story.

  “Well, I don’t know if you’ve had time to read my case.” She fiddled with the rings on her fingers. “I’m sorry, I haven’t.”

  “Well, it happened a little over ten years ago. I was fourteen, and had just started high school. I was on my way home, and I’d never walked home from school before. We’d just moved here, and I hadn’t paid attention when my mom drove me there in the morning. I thought I was taking a short cut by going through a forest on the other side of my subdivision. I should have realized it wasn’t a shortcut because I was the only one going through there, or so I thought.”

  “Here in Crown River?”

  Avery nodded, and he typed something.

  “Crown River runs right through the forest. It was September, so it got dark a little earlier. I went to go back the way I came, and that’s when I saw it.”

  Inspector Cotter looked up from his scr
een at her. “The mask?”

  “Someone in a mask, yes. They were running towards me. I turned around and ran the other way. I got a good look at the face, and it looked a lot like the one on TV last night.” She stopped for a moment as he typed. “What happened? What did he do?”

  He shrugged. “I can’t tell you any more than what was on the news.”

  “I didn’t hear the news really. I just saw the sketch.”

  He brushed his fingers through his hair and pushed his chair back from the desk.

  “A young woman was attacked on a trail in Birch Falls Park.”

  “What happened?”

  “Well, she was shot, and then the person who shot her came after her, but a man who had just arrived to walk his dogs interrupted him. The man never got a good look, but the victim was able to give details as to what the perp looked like.”

  “Is she okay?”

  He cleared his throat. “She’s stable.”

  Avery looked around the room and fought back her tears. “Do you think it could be the same person, Inspector Cotter?”

  He pulled his chair back up to the desk. “Why don’t you tell me the rest?”

  “Where was I? I… I was running, and he kept coming. I didn’t look where I was going, and I fell off a ledge, into the Crown River.”

  He stared at her with a straight face, and when she wiped the tears from her eyes, he looked back down at the screen.

  “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

  Avery shook her head and looked at the ceiling. “I was knocked unconscious, and I broke my arm, but other than that I was lucky. The current was light, and the place I fell was deep enough. A man who was fishing saw me fall. Pulled me out and got me help. Joshua Hopkins.”

  He made another note, and looked back to Avery. “All of this has been recorded?”

  “Too many times to count.” Avery fidgeted with her rings again. “They never found out who it was. Josh didn’t see anything, except me falling.”

  “Do you remember how far away from the attacker you were when you saw them at the clearest?”

  “No further than ten feet.” She remembered the number, having told Inspector Jacoby repeatedly. “I know it couldn’t have been further than that.”