I was in luck.
* * *
Things I will forget
Things I will never forget
And in between: this.
* * *
Things I have not seen
Things I do not remember
But not forgotten
* * *
A crash. A hit. A pain
But not knowing who it was
I will not forget
* * *
I missed you that day
But the car did not miss me
I did not forget.
* * *
I scrolled through John Deere’s recent updates. The message was clear—a little too clear, in fact. If the hit and run was to keep her from talking to me, then she was in danger again, because she had outed herself as faking amnesia, and made it clear she still wanted to tell me what she saw. I messaged the account immediately. “Message received. Delete haikus. If hit and run was no accident, then they put you in danger.”
John Deere didn’t respond to my message, but by that night the poems were down. I messaged again. “I am coming to your house to see you. I will be there in an hour. Please stay safe.”
I got in my car and headed to Larch Mountain to see if I could protect at least one young person.
The night was dark, and slimy with rain. The kind of rain that clung to the air like plastic wrap, just a thin sheet of water sticking to everything. The windshield wipers were ineffective against the constancy of the water, and I leaned forward to peer into the darkness of the hilly roads. If there had been a girl on a bike right now, I would have hit her, too. But unlike our hit and run driver, I wouldn’t have left the scene.
That Gina was hit on her way to talk to me was no coincidence, though ponder as hard as I could, I couldn’t see how our killer would have known about the meeting. Not from my end, anyway. Tonight’s journey was about more than just learning exactly what Gina had seen. I needed to find out who she was connected to on the committee. If she had no connections at all, it cleared the names of Adam’s friends, and narrowed our search down to connections a teenage girl in a rural town on the far edges of a Portland suburb had.
That would be a great move forward in the case.
Gina met me in the living room. She was wrapped in a colorful afghan, facing a cast iron wood stove. It was too warm for my coat, so I hung it on a hook by the back door. Her grandparents were in the kitchen, watching us through the pass through. They didn’t recognize me as the lady in the waiting room, but they did know I had called them to tell them about their granddaughter’s accident. Esther held her hand out to me. “I’m sorry our son and Jenny aren’t here tonight. They have a meeting at his store. Can I get you anything?”
“No, thank you. I just need to talk with Gina.”
“I should say you do.” Grandma came out of the kitchen with a SoulCycle mug and set it next to Gina. “But I hope you understand why we don’t want to leave her alone.”
“Of course.” It was as I had expected. Gina was a minor and had no more business meeting me than meeting the president, but that didn’t mean I liked having a chaperone.
“I think I saw a murder.” Gina jumped right in, putting to rest my worry that she wouldn’t talk in front of her grandparents.
Her grandma patted her knee. “Tell us about it sweetheart. What did you see?”
“I was on the tractor with Maddox, we were just taking a ride. It was dumb. I’m sorry, Gramps.”
Gramps shook his head. “Don’t do it again.”
“Of course not. Anyway, we wanted to go up to Vista House and look at the stars, but when we got there, there was something weird going on. The doctors say I have amnesia, but I will never, ever forget this.”
Her grandmother wrapped both hands around Gina’s small, tan hand.
“See, we were going to pull in when a bright light flashed. Maddox idled at the entrance, and we watched. The light flashed again and again, at least ten times. It was so bright that at first, I couldn’t figure out how far away it was, but it was way out back by the concrete rail. It flashed and flashed and flashed. I saw a man standing, in one of the flashes, but then, in the next one he was gone. And I saw a car, in one of the flashes. The bumper of a nice car, kind of pointy like a Jag, but it could have been something else. I don’t know for sure. But it was there, and I saw it in one flash. And it kept flashing. Maddox freaked out and drove past the Vista House, but you know, the tractor was loud, the only noise there, and I’m sure whoever was flashing the light heard us. The next morning the cops came and asked about a body. I was asleep still, but they talked to Jenny. She told me about it over breakfast.”
“Did you ever tell the cops what you saw?”
She shook her head.
“Did Maddox?”
“He says he didn’t.”
“Did you talk about it at all to anyone? Friends? Family? Cousins?”
“No. It was eating me up though. That’s why I started the John Deere account. I just couldn’t deal with knowing. I needed someone else to know I knew. Maddox needed to talk about it, but wouldn’t.”
“Tell me more about Maddox. What has he been doing?”
“He decided to go to his Dad’s for a little while. Up in Alaska.”
“Alaska?”
“But what about school?” Grandma asked.
“I think it was a bad choice, too. He was almost done with this quarter at Mt. Hood Community College. I don’t know what they will say to him when he comes back. He’s going to miss finals and everything.”
“Do you think he might have been scared away? Is there any way the killer could have seen you as he flashed the lights?” Grandma wasn’t the only one with questions. And were we sure Maddox made it to Alaska?
“He heard us. He had to, but we were in the dark the whole time. The killer was in the dark, too. I think he must have been, at least. Because I saw the one man standing, facing us, but never the other guy.
“You saw his face? Could you identify him?” If she had seen a face that wasn’t Adam’s, then she had absolutely seen the killer.
“No, he was too far away. I saw a pale face, so I know it was a white guy, and that he was tall, and that it wasn’t the back of his head, or anything, but I couldn’t see clearly enough to see his features.”
“Oh, you poor baby. You need to call the police, right away.” Grandma stroked Gina’s hand. In the background, I heard the distinct and familiar sound of a landline being dialed. Grandpa calling the cops, I suspected.
Gina just nodded. “I told them what I knew while I was in the hospital.”
“What about the amnesia?” I asked.
“I should know exactly who hit me, don’t you think? It was dawn, the day was gray but clear. I could see the road in front of me, and the trees. I was headed to meet you, and then I woke up in the hospital. I swear I am not making that part up. I can’t remember a single thing about the car that hit me, or even where I was when I got hit, or how it felt, or anything. Complete amnesia. Dad says it’s my brain protecting me from the trauma.”
“He’s probably right,” I said. She looked as disappointed as I was that she had no idea who had run her down. “The question we ask now is this: Who knew you would be on your bike that morning, coming to meet me?”
“Maddox, did, but he was already in Seattle on his way to Ketchikan, so it wasn’t him.”
“Who could Maddox have told? Who could have overheard you telling him?”
“I just texted him. I didn’t say it out loud.” An adolescent pitch of defensiveness broke her voice, as though she thought I was insulting her by saying she might have used a phone to make an actual call.
“Who could have read the text? On either end? A school friend? A teacher? Someone at the college?”
“No one can see my phone. I don’t text in class and the girls don’t hang over my shoulders while I use it. We’re not in middle school.”
“What about Maddox?”
“H
e was in Seattle when I told him, so who could have seen it?”
“That’s a fair point. You’re positive that you never left your phone lying around where someone could see it?”
“Yes.” Gina narrowed her eyes at me. “What about you? I was alone when we made our plans. The whole house was empty, out here in the woods, and if I wasn’t alone, Roger would have let me know.” She patted the rump of her basset hound. “But, where were you? Who could have heard your end of the conversation?”
“That’s a fair question.” And I had to give her points for thinking of it. “I was alone in my office, and I have taken measures to make sure that space is soundproof and private. It’s my business. I have to.” And yet, even as I promised her my top level of security, she had hit home. No one overheard her from her end of our conversation, and no one saw the texts to her boyfriend. So, the person who got the information needed to run her down had to have gotten it from me. Where had my notes been between the phone call and our meeting? And who did I know who could read shorthand?
Chapter Thirteen
I would never get used to putting people in danger. Not Gina, not the young people from the community center. No matter how many times it happened, it would always shake me. The feeling of being a walking danger clung to me even the next day. Rain pounded my office window, and the radiators groaned in frustration as they tried to heat the old building. The whole structure of the building seemed to be complaining about the weather, and the case.
And my phone would not stop ringing. The same number had been calling all day, over and over again, just to hang up. When it rang again, I answered it fast. “This is Maura.”
“Maura.” The voice was a little high pitched, but definitely male. He drew out my name like nails down a chalkboard.
“May I ask who’s calling?” I gave the creepster the benefit of my most detective-like voice, low and mysterious.
“It’s your friend, and I am such a good friend.”
I had few friends lately, but I was positive that this guy was not one of them. “What do you need?” I kept my tones dramatic, though an unwelcome shiver traced my spine.
“I think I made you happy.”
“Tell me more.” I added a slightly seductive tone, but I was on the edge of my seat, ready to bolt. For all I knew, this guy was on the other side of my office door.
“We’re so close, and you can watch, if you want.” Now he was breathing heavy. Disgusting.
“Where are you?”
“In your basement.”
I leapt to my feet. That was too close, I didn’t have time to get the police here.
“Come down and see us, please.”
“Of course. Who is with you?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“You’re in my office basement?”
“Please come.” He hung up.
I felt dirty, but I had to get down there. Who knew who this guy had with him, and why he thought it would make me happy.
I grabbed my gun and called the police. I briefly described the situation, said I thought someone might be in danger, and asked for back up. Then, I went downstairs.
Ethan, the handsome, cheerful super was in the reception area, doing something on the front desk computer. “Ethan…” I whispered.
“What’s up?” His cheerful grin met me.
I shook my head and put my finger to my lips. “How long have you been at the desk?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“Who came in during that time?”
“An older couple. They took the elevator.”
“How much older?”
“What’s going on?” Ethan came around the desk. “You look intense. Did something happen?”
I was stalling for the police, and I knew it, but I didn’t have forever. For all I knew creepy caller was planning to kill someone.
“I don’t know exactly, but I need to know everyone you have seen come through.”
“Just the one couple. They were in their eighties, I’d say.”
I wracked my brain but couldn’t remember an elderly man who would kill for me.
“When was the last time you were in the basement?”
“This morning, around eight. Seriously Maura, what’s going on?” His grin was gone, and he looked concerned. And manly.
I had never thought of him as manly before. I considered bringing him downstairs with me. “I got a call that has me on edge. The police should be here any minute. Direct them to the basement for me.” I ignored the idea of bringing him with me. No need to drag a nice guy like him into my danger. I took the long hall to the basement door slowly, each step a hope the cops were right behind me.
The basement was a labyrinth of old duct work, old furnaces, old furniture, and anything the owner had wanted to abandon through the years.
I didn’t flick on the light switch but picked my way down the cellar stairs in the dark, listening for signs of a struggle. The window wells let in a grim, gray kind of light that was barely better than the shadows. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs to give my eyes a chance to adjust.
Between the mechanical noises and the groaning of the ancient plumbing, the basement was a noisy place. My hand was on the butt of my baby, gripping it, ready to defend whoever was in danger. I stepped into the center of the room, near a decommissioned boiler and scanned the place for my creep. My heart was racing. I had to slow myself down to maintain my focus. Panic and a gun were a bad combination.
“Hello?” Whispers carry well, so I went with that. No need to make the creepy caller jumpy.
“Maura?” His voice came back in a whisper, too.
“Where are you?”
He giggled. “You didn’t forget.”
“Of course not, where are you?”
“Come around here and see who I have for you! You are going to be so happy. Come behind the stairs.”
I shivered. He had been right beneath me.
I considered each step as an individual move in a rescue operation. And worked my way around a row of wooden cabinets.
Three office chairs were stacked on an old metal desk in front of the hollow space under the stairs. I peered through the legs of the chairs, not sure how to get back there. “I can’t see anything, what’s going on?”
A thin light flashed on, illuminating red hair, then moving slowly over a pale, freckled face with several strips of duct tape making a mummy of her mouth. The light shook, but I saw a huge red bruise on her forehead. And then the light turned on the one holding it.
Ansel, from the homeless shelter.
“I didn’t want to call you too early.” He passed the light up and down Izzy’s body, showing me how he had her on his lap, one arm squeezing her like a seatbelt. He turned the light to my face. “You are so busy, and so good, and you are my friend.” He snarled when he spoke. He wasn’t simple, by any means, but he definitely wasn’t well.
My hand was frozen. I couldn’t shoot with the light in my eyes. I couldn’t threaten to shoot him with her on his lap like that.
A sense of my own power filled me—I could shoot him and hit them both. An evil, repulsive desire to wipe them both off the earth rolled over me in a wave of nausea.
I held my gun by my hip, begging myself to keep it down.
He turned the flashlight back to Izzy’s face, and probably saved her life. “I’ll do anything you want. I have a knife. Do you want me to cut her? I’ll cut her. Do you want me to stab her? Or I could strangle her. He moved his arm from around her waist, so he could press a hand on her neck.
Her eyes flew open, and she nodded, so slightly.
“Yes, strangle her.” The words were disgusting to say, but she nodded again, so I knew I had said the right thing.
I was transfixed by the awkward scene, the way he pressed one hand around her neck, but kept the flashlight on her face. She slithered on his lap, jerking backwards with her head. A cracking noise meant she had whacked his skull with hers. And then she was up, free from his a
rm.
She bolted, her head hitting a step with a thud. She wavered, and he grabbed at her, but she dodged forward, sliding between the desk and the wall.
Ansel scrambled after her, seeming to lose his footing. I pulled the gun. “Hold it!”
Izzy made it to my side and leaned against me.
“Maura, where’d she go?” He flashed the light around. “I made it so nice for you. I didn’t mean to let her go. You gotta help me find her.”
She ducked behind me, and leaned on my back, using me as support and a shield.
I jerked away from her touch, then braced myself, not knowing if I’d have to shoot, or fend off an attack. I stood with feet apart, turned at the hip, one in front of the other, shoulders squared, gun supported by two hands. “Why did you do this for me? She’s just a girl.”
“I heard her, I heard the horrible things she said to you. You couldn’t see me in the library, but I saw you both and I knew I had to do it for you. You wanted to kill her, I could see it in your eyes. You’re a killer, like me, but you couldn’t do it at the library, so I had to.” He tried to push his way between the desk and the wall, but fell, like a clown. I could hear him scrambling back to his feet, but his light was going wild. “I will strangle her for you, and you can watch. We just have to find her.” His flashlight illuminated the basement steps, shining through the planks that had no risers. He lit up the black booted feet of the police as they made their way down. “Maura Garrison? Is everything all right?”
Izzy rushed from me and threw herself into the arms of an officer.
“I have a gun.” I said. “I’m covering the man who kidnapped this lady. I’m going to put it down now.”
Someone turned on the lights, splashing the basement with flickering fluorescence.
I set the gun on the floor, by my feet and held my hands up. “He’s back there.”
The Book of Judges Page 14