by Ranae Rose
The thought filled her with anguish, as always, but this time there was a new emotion threaded into her pain: hope. This year, she’d atone for her daughter’s horrible, selfish mistakes.
True, she still wished things had been different. They surely would’ve been if she’d had the opportunity to raise Sarah at the Eternal Family Foundation retreat, as her mother had her. There, Sarah would’ve been protected from the rest of the world and its awful lies.
But she hadn’t been granted that opportunity. Alone in the outside world, she’d done her best to shape the little bit of family she’d been left with after her lifelong family had fallen apart.
And for two years now, she’d lived with the bitter knowledge that she’d failed. She couldn’t undo what Sarah had done, but everything happened for a reason. Her faith in that truth was restored now.
She hadn’t saved Sarah’s child, but she’d saved the baby growing in the belly of the girl living in her daughter’s old bedroom, and she would save the children of untold other women. August tenth was only a few days away, and she was ready.
* * * * *
When a knock came at Lucia’s door on Sunday afternoon, she crossed the kitchen and peered through a window before greeting her guest.
Make that guests. Meredith and Paige stood on her front porch.
“Hey you two.” She unbolted the door and opened it wide, summoning one of the fake smiles she’d been using so often lately. “Come on in.”
She closed the door after they entered, shutting out the sweet summer air. “What’s up?”
“I hope you don’t mind the intrusion,” Meredith said, “but we wanted to talk to you about something.”
“What is it?”
“Jeremy’s birthday is in two weeks. We were wondering if we could talk you into joining our top-secret party planning committee – if you feel up to it, that is.”
She hesitated, but never seriously considered saying no to Meredith. “Of course I’ll help out. What can I do?”
Paige grinned, the gleam in her eye matching her grandmother’s.
“Well, we won’t ask too much of you, but we need you as a distraction. On the day of the party, it’d be perfect if you two could go out on a date that afternoon, and then you could lead him to the party location without arousing suspicion.”
Going out on the town was one of the last things Lucia felt like doing, but if Meredith and Paige needed her, she’d do it anyway.
Besides, the occasion was two weeks away – maybe, just maybe, Olivia would be home by then, safe and sound.
Her heart ached as she nodded.
“Sure. Where’s the party going to be held?”
“The restaurant on the grounds of the Wisteria Plantation. We’re inviting too many people to have it at home, and there’s plenty of room there. We already made a party reservation and spoke to the chef. She’s a friend of Jeremy’s, of course, so that helped.”
“Sasha, right?”
Meredith nodded.
“I’m sure I can handle Jeremy on the day of the party. Is there anything else you need me to help with?”
“Well, there’s no food preparation to speak of, since the restaurant will be handling that. And instead of sending out formal invitations, I called Jeremy’s cousin Liam and one of the deputies at the sheriff’s department to get the lowdown on everyone’s work schedule and then sent out e-mail invitations. So really, there’s not much to delegate.”
“I’ll make it my mission to keep him completely oblivious on the big day, then.”
Meredith beamed. “You’re an angel. Thank you.”
“It’s no problem. I’m glad you mentioned his birthday to me. I had no idea it was coming up.”
Meredith waved a hand. “He never would’ve said a thing, believe me. And he’d certainly never plan anything fun for himself. That’s why we’re keeping the party a surprise.”
Lucia had to admit, she couldn’t imagine Jeremy coordinating even a modest get-together for his own birthday. He was too practical, and not the least bit self-indulgent.
“How many guests are you expecting?”
“A little under twenty. All officers from the sheriff’s department or prison, most of them with their significant others. I think the restaurant will be just the right size for our party.”
“I think you’re right – it should be perfect.”
Meredith and Paige stayed a while longer, making small talk. The ongoing nightmare with Olivia was a dark elephant in the room, and when Meredith and Paige finally left, Lucia couldn’t help but be relieved.
* * * * *
Beverly hadn’t driven her car since her trip to the Piedmont area of the state. She still had a third of a tank of gas – more than enough to fuel her trip into town and back. Still, she pulled out of her driveway so slowly that she might as well have been running on fumes.
A large purse sat on the passenger seat, its canvas sides sheltering precious cargo she didn’t dare treat too roughly. As sweat beaded on her brow, she made the pre-planned journey, a model driver.
Her car’s aging air conditioning system admitted more scents from outside than it did cool air – the scents of pine needles and sun-warmed sap, at first.
When she reached Cypress, the air lost a little of its wilderness scent, but none of its heat. Her shirt stuck to her back, damp with sweat, and an overbearing metallic taste filled her mouth, as if her tongue had been cast in copper.
She wasn’t physically comfortable, but her heart was light as a feather.
As her anticipation mounted, she thought of all she’d lost: her mother, her family at the retreat, the husband she’d kept so briefly, and – the cruelest blow of all – her own daughter and grandchild.
She let the sorrow bathe her heart, a sanctifying bath of suffering that was finally enough. Hallowed by her losses, she looked forward with purpose. Yes, she’d lost a lot. But how much more had the world lost to the schemes of places like the deceptively named Riley County Women’s Health Center?
A den of seething evil, it operated on Main Street as if it were just another business, going unnoticed and unremarked upon by everyone. Everyone except for those who swept through the doors demanding its services.
But Beverly had noticed. And she alone stood strong enough in her conviction – her hatred of evil – to do something about it.
Revulsion rose up inside her at the sight of the place, sending acid creeping into her mouth.
She swallowed it, just as she’d long ago swallowed her fear. Stepping out of the car, she rounded it, opened the passenger side door and shouldered her purse with great care.
Entering the building would’ve felt wrong, if she’d been there for any other purpose. As it was, a rush of wild emotion seized her as she drew her first breath of cool clinic air.
The waiting room looked much as she’d suspected: unremarkable, save for the rack on the wall that held pamphlets with titles like Pregnancy: Are You Ready?
Indignation struck her like lightning, jolting her into righteous anger. When was a woman not ready for pregnancy? Every facet of female design was shaped for one miraculous purpose: giving life.
Any other use – any disruption of that process – was a perversion.
No one had asked her if she’d been ready at sixteen, and she certainly hadn’t asked herself. She’d suffered the morning sickness, the aches and pains, with gratitude. And when the time had come, she’d earned her status as a woman through childbirth.
And here was a place where people preyed upon the weaknesses and selfishness of women, convincing them it was acceptable to take the lives they’d been fortunate enough to conceive. It was enough to send heat prickling down her spine and turn her hands clammy.
“Can I help you?” A woman at the registration counter looked up through an open glass divider.
“I’m an RN, and I’m looking to pick up some part-time hours somewhere, around my full-time work schedule. Do you know if there are any positions open here
?”
The woman shook her head. “No, sorry. We might be able to fit you in on a volunteer basis though, if that interests you.”
The suggestion was as sour as curdled milk, but Beverly tried her best to smile. “I’m afraid I’m looking for a paying position, but thank you.” Pausing, she tried to appear thoughtful. “Could I use your restroom before I go?”
“It’s down the hall – second door on the left.”
She bit her tongue to keep silent as she turned and opened the door that led into the heart of the clinic. It had been so easy, it was as if fate was paving a path for her.
The hall was empty. She took advantage of that fact, slipping into an empty exam room. There, she finally opened her bag.
CHAPTER 24
Jeremy was shaving for his shift when his phone buzzed with a text.
He expected it to be from Lucia, or maybe Liam or his mother.
It wasn’t any of them, though. It was Blevins.
Within seconds of picking up his phone, he dropped his razor.
You listening to the radio? Explosion at the women’s clinic on Main. Bet it’s that crazy bitch.
Dread barreled through him, cold and liquid, freezing his veins.
Bomb? His fingertips tingled as he punched out the worst four letter word he could imagine. Part of him hoped Blevins wasn’t being literal, that ‘explosion’ meant something else.
But he didn’t really believe it. That policeman’s sixth sense was churning in his gut, tearing him up.
More than one, they think.
He finished his shave in record time, and then came the call from his supervisor, asking him to get to work as soon as he could.
“Paige? Paige!” He burst out into the hall.
“What, dad?” She appeared outside her bedroom door, eyes wide.
“Get your shoes on. I’m taking you over to Grandma’s now.”
“Is something wrong?”
“I need to get to work.”
He didn’t have the heart or the balls to tell her that someone had just blown up a building minutes away.
There wasn’t time to talk, anyway. He raced to put his uniform on, then was out the door with Paige. Before leaving her at his mother’s house, he pulled his mother aside.
“Don’t turn on the news,” he said. “I don’t want Paige to see it.”
Her forehead creased. “What’s happened?”
“I have to go. Just keep the news off for now. Please.”
She nodded. “Be safe.”
Safety was the last thing on his mind as he tore out of his neighborhood, sirens loud and lights ablaze. He’d bet anything that Blevins was right – that the crazy bitch from the park was behind the bombing. And if that was the case, they were close to finally getting some answers, including – hopefully – info on Olivia’s whereabouts.
He was equal parts eager and nervous, knowing that whatever fate Olivia had been dealt, Lucia would live it herself, in mind and spirit. Whatever was discovered that day would either break her, or free her from the emotional prison she’d been living in.
* * * * *
The entire world seemed to have reached the women’s clinic before Jeremy. First responders teemed over the site he was warned might still contain undetonated bombs – dozens of members of the local police, fire and rescue squad.
EMTs carried someone out on a stretcher, even as fire fighters tended the smoking section of roof toward the back of the building. There were no visible flames, but the front window was blown out, its shattered pieces glittering in the afternoon sunlight and crunching under boots.
“How many fatalities?” he asked a Riley PD sergeant.
“Two,” she said. “Four more injured.”
His gut knotted even tighter, and he could’ve sworn he’d just swallowed a mouthful of that broken glass.
He shifted his gaze to an ambulance, and God help him, he saw a body bag. It wasn’t the first time, but it was the worst – it was far too easy to imagine Olivia being found, zipped up into one of those bags and taking a piece of Lucia’s heart to the grave.
No matter what he said or did, he knew damned well that if Olivia was dead, Lucia would never be the same. Not only would Olivia’s family lose their daughter, but Lucia would lose something too. She’d lose a piece of herself, and Jeremy might even lose her in the aftermath.
The thought was heart-wrenching for so many reasons. From a purely selfish standpoint, he was keenly aware that he’d lost the woman he’d planned to spend the rest of his life with once before. But even that hadn’t hurt like just the possibility of losing Lucia did. Now that he’d had a taste of what it’d be like to have a true partner, there would always be a void in his life without her.
Beyond any shadow of a doubt, he knew he’d never be content with loneliness again. When a Cypress PD detective stepped in front of him, he nearly grabbed the man’s arm.
“Do we know who did this?”
The detective’s eyes were dark, and his mouth was set in a grim line. “Yeah.” He jerked his head toward the building. “They’re loading pieces of her into a body bag right now.”
* * * * *
A clinic receptionist had described the woman who’d walked in with a large bag and tried to run out of the building before the second explosion. The first officers on the scene had seen her emerge as they’d turned onto the street, and she’d turned back upon seeing them arrive.
Fleeing back into the building in a moment of apparent panic, she’d run headlong into the second explosion, which had been set up in the lobby.
Those officers were the last to ever see her in one piece. Investigators found a wallet in her car, which contained an ID.
Apparently, Beverly Johannsson hadn’t counted on being caught.
She lived on a rural road out in the county, well outside of town. That fact blew Jeremy’s theory about her lacking a vehicle and being confined to town out of the water. But it made sense now – it looked like she’d been targeting patrons of the women’s health center.
There was no time to look into it now, but he’d bet a paycheck that Brianna and Kaylee had visited the clinic.
For the time being, his heart was in his throat as he raced to Beverly Johannsson’s rural address, sirens flashing. His lieutenant drove in front of him, and two more squad cars followed. They were all hoping the same thing: that they’d find some trace of Olivia there.
Jeremy gripped the wheel like his life depended on it, knuckles white, and pines flew by as they left Cypress behind. Beverly’s house was one of just a few on Sandy Knoll Rd, and it would’ve been generous to call it modest.
Its blue paint was peeling and the roof was visibly aged, the shingles faded. It wasn’t until he parked close to the house, at the edge of the gravel driveway, that he could see the boards over the window on one side of the house.
“Shit!” He threw his door open, adrenaline surging through his veins. In that moment, he felt more hope than he’d dared to allow himself since Olivia’s disappearance.
You didn’t board up a window to keep a dead person put.
They approached the door, and he unsheathed his baton. All it took to get inside was a quick strike to break a glass window panel, and then he reached through to undo the lock.
Shattered glass crunched under their boots as they entered the house, weapons drawn. As far as they knew, Beverly might have an accomplice. There hadn’t been any signs of one at the scenes of the previous crimes they suspected she’d committed, but there was obviously no such thing as being too careful when it came to her.
The kitchen was cramped, filled mostly by a table supporting an old PC. The computer would probably yield plenty of evidence later, but it was the least of their concerns at the moment. After sweeping the kitchen and living room, they moved down the hall.
It was clear which room held the most promise. The door on the left was secured with two heavy-duty locks, obviously installed long after the house’s original construction.
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The door at the end of the hall was wide open, revealing a bathroom, and the door on the right presumably led to a bedroom. An officer went to clear each room, while Jeremy and his lieutenant focused on the locked door.
“Police!” his lieutenant called.
There was a split second of silence, and then a thumping sound came from beyond the door.
“Help!”
Jeremy exhaled, his throat constricting.
“Holy fucking shit.” The officer who’d gone to check out the bathroom was back.
“Help me! Help!”
The fourth officer who’d gone into the other bedroom was back, too. “Everything’s clear.”
They all stood there, nothing but a couple hardware store locks between them and whoever was on the other side of that door.
The voice was clearly female. But was it Olivia’s?
Whoever she was, she pounded on the door. “Let me out! Please!”
“Olivia Kilpatrick?” the lieutenant’s voice echoed through the hall.
“Yes!”
Jeremy’s chest seized up, squeezing everything inside as his hands burnt with the urge to tear that door down. Olivia was alive – holy fucking shit was right.
“We need a halligan,” Jeremy said.
The door was cheap, but they couldn’t just kick it down – not with a pregnant girl on the other side, in God knew what condition.
“Get one,” the lieutenant said to Salinger, one of the officers at his back.
Salinger took off.
“Listen Olivia,” Jeremy said, “we’re going to get you out of there. Stay back from the door.”
“Okay.” She was crying – he could hear it.
He was so fucking relieved she was alive that he almost could’ve cried, too.
The lieutenant radioed in for an ambulance.