by Dan Padavona
As the emergency crew clambered up the staircase, the woman gasped. Thomas met the teenager’s eyes.
“She’s alive.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Seeing all those tubes and wires snaking out of her mother punched Raven in the gut.
After the altercation at the dance last night, she’d gone into the office and worked until the adrenaline wore off. Chelsey wouldn’t accept her company, claimed she needed to be alone, and Raven knew better than to argue with her friend’s mule-like stubbornness. She hadn’t fallen asleep until four. Then the phone rattled her out of bed at eleven. LeVar never called Raven, and she knew with dreaded certainty something terrible had happened when his name appeared on the screen.
LeVar sat beside their mother, the plastic chair drawn beside the bed. A heart monitor beeped and displayed an erratic rhythm. Outside the door, a doctor in blue scrubs hurried past.
“What happened?” Raven asked, sliding into a chair beside LeVar’s.
Their mother looked too frail to be alive. Brittle bones. Skin like fading parchment paper, stretched to the point of tearing.
“She overdosed.”
“Heroin again?”
He lowered his head and rested his hand on their mother’s. For a long time they watched her without speaking. There were no words. No doctor needed to tell them she was hanging by a thread. For too many years, Raven and her mother had remained estranged. After Serena threw Raven out of the house, Raven wanted nothing to do with her mother and realized Serena couldn’t be saved. Seeing Serena on the brink of death, a bridge spanned the many years of regret, and Raven’s anger and resentment faded away.
A nurse rapped on the door and ordered Raven and LeVar to leave. The doctor would be in shortly, and they could sit in the waiting room. The way the nurse twisted her lips in disgust made Raven wonder how the woman treated the white, wealthy visitors from Wolf Lake.
A dozen cushioned chairs girded the waiting room. A corner table held various magazines and yesterday’s newspaper. Raven and LeVar were the only people in the room. He crumbled into a chair along the far wall and sat with his elbows on his thighs and his head hanging to his chest. Long dreadlocks dangled to his knees, and his hands clasped together, as though he uttered a silent prayer. As Raven slid into the neighboring seat, she realized she hadn’t felt this close to her brother since she was a teenager and he was barely out of puberty. How could she ever fear him? She set a trembling hand upon his, expecting him to pull away. Instead, he reached across with his free hand and covered hers. Together, they sat in quietude while the hospital staff bustled through the corridor.
“Will she make it?”
When LeVar raised his head, tears cut down his cheekbones, his eyes washed in red. Raven needed to give him an answer, though she couldn’t predict what would happen. The next few hours were crucial. If their mother survived the afternoon, she had a fighting chance.
“She’s a strong woman.”
He sat back, released a breath, and brushed the dreadlocks over his shoulder.
“I been trying to get her into rehab. Told her I’d pay, but she wouldn’t have it.”
She patted his arm.
“You can’t play the role of parent.”
“Why not? Someone has to.”
Raven saw the accusation in his stare. She looked away.
“If she wakes up—”
“When she wakes up,” he corrected, locking eyes until she nodded.
“When she wakes up, we both need to be there. We’ll form a united front and demand changes. She has to check into rehab.”
“And if she says no?”
Raven chewed the inside of her cheek.
“Then we both walk away. Tough love, isn’t that what they call it?”
“Seems to me that’s all you’ve done for the last seven years. Has it worked?”
“Mom left me no choice.”
He lifted his chin and glared at the opposite wall. LeVar possessed his own stubborn streak.
“Well, it ain’t right. No matter how she treats us, we gotta be there for her. She’s all we got.”
Raven dropped a reluctant arm over his shoulders. His muscles twitched, but he didn’t pull away.
“I don’t get it, LeVar. You’re a smart kid with a good heart. Why do you run with the Kings?”
“I make more with the Kings than I would working three jobs.”
“Is the gamble worth it?”
“Someone’s gotta pay the rent and put food on the table. You think I wanna risk my head every day, or worry if Rev is gonna explode over some stupid bullshit? I do what I gotta do. You ain’t helping, so don’t judge me.”
An idea struck Raven. Why hadn’t she seen it until now?
“You’re trying to leave the Kings.”
He turned his head.
“What’s this nonsense?”
“Don’t lie to me, LeVar. For the past month, you’ve been sneaking into my house, sleeping on the couch, and hiding out. You’re planning to leave the Harmon Kings.”
He ground his teeth. But he didn’t deny her accusation.
“Do it,” she said. “Whatever you need, I’m there for you. But you have to get out of that apartment. You can’t live with that madness another day.”
“Who will take care of Mom? She can’t do it by herself.”
“That’s why we need to get her into rehab. When she gets out, she’ll be a new person.” Raven tasted the lie on her tongue and struggled to hide her doubt. “Either way, you can’t watch over her twenty-four hours a day. Mom has to stand on her own two feet.”
LeVar rubbed his eyes.
“Everything I do…it’s all for Mom. She don’t thank me sometimes, but she knows.”
Raven turned to face him and set her hands in her lap.
“I need you to be truthful. Because you’re my brother and I’ll do anything for you. But you have to tell me. All these things people say you did, all the gang violence in Harmon—”
He shook his head and leveled Raven with a glare. And in that moment, she believed him.
“Ain’t none of it true. I busted a few lips, but no way I pulled the trigger on anybody. People say shit, but it don’t make it fact.”
“You’re the most feared man in Harmon.”
He laughed, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes.
“I survive on rep. People believe I did these things, so when they see me coming, they step. Haven’t needed to pull my gun in a long time.”
A tear tracked down her face. She touched his cheek.
“I never believed the rumors. Thank you for telling me the truth. But it doesn’t change what I said. You can’t stay there any longer. Eventually, the city will catch up to you, and something terrible will happen. Get out, LeVar.”
“You don’t just walk away from Rev.”
“Come stay with me. I’ll protect you.”
“In that tiny ass house? Not enough room.”
“Could have fooled me, all the times you slept on the couch while I was on the job.”
He became quiet, considering. After several heartbeats, he glanced down at his hands.
“I’m taking classes.”
Her mouth froze open. LeVar had dropped out of high school two years ago.
“Wait, you went back to school?”
“I’m getting my GED at the community college.”
Raven’s throat constricted, and she touched her heart.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He lifted a shoulder.
“Didn’t tell no one. Thought I’d finish things up, then surprise everyone when I got my degree. My teacher says there are scholarships for people like me, that I should take a few college classes after and see if I like it.”
No words sufficed to express the joy surging through Raven.
“You’ll do it, right?”
“I’ll give it a shot.”
“This is amazing news. Everything is turning around for us, LeVar. Mom will b
e all right, and you’re leaving the Kings and earning your diploma.”
“I can’t be living on no couches, though. You hate the Kings. I get it. But the money is good, and I can pay for my own apartment, if I stick it out a little longer.”
“No. That’s no good. Not another day with the Kings. Don’t be afraid of Rev.”
“It look to you like I’m afraid of anybody?”
He wasn’t afraid of Rev, and that scared the hell out of her. A knock on the door pulled their heads up. Deputy Shepherd leaned in the doorway. LeVar straightened his back.
“How’s your mother?”
Raven glanced at her brother. She was certain the deputy intended to arrest LeVar.
“We’re waiting to hear from the doctor. But she made it through the hardest part.”
“Anthony didn’t kill that girl,” LeVar said, rising out of his chair. “What did you do with him?”
The deputy blocked the doorway.
“Anthony Fisher is at the Nightshade County Sheriff’s Department for questioning. If either of you know anything, now is the time to talk.”
LeVar questioned Raven with his eyes. She nodded.
“Anthony says a big white guy approached him. Gave him a hundred dollars to mail the package. You won’t arrest Anthony, right? He’s just a kid.”
“I can’t make any promises about Sheriff Gray, but I’ll relay what you said. My partner is talking to Mr. Fisher now.”
“Let our boy walk,” LeVar said, rising from his seat.
The deputy hesitated.
“That’s not for me to decide.”
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
When Thomas returned to the office, Gray stood with his arms folded outside the meeting room. Lambert interviewed Anthony Fisher while Gray watched through the window and guarded the door.
“Did I miss anything?” Thomas asked, setting his coffee on the desk.
“The kid claims some guy paid him to mail the package.” Gray swiveled to Thomas and set his hands on his hips. “Where’s LeVar Hopkins? I thought you drove to the hospital to see about the mother.”
“He’s there with his sister.”
“And you didn’t arrest him?”
“On what grounds?”
A vein pulsed in Gray’s neck.
“We went over this. Build a case on Hopkins and get me a warrant. Now if you’ll watch the door, I need to make a phone call.”
A minute later, Lambert led the handcuffed boy out of the meeting room.
“You’re locking him up?”
Lambert’s exasperated expression told Thomas he had no choice. Thomas slid into the rolling chair in front of his desk and picked up where he’d left off this morning, clicking through Harpy’s forum activity. Lambert returned and sat on the edge of Thomas’s desk.
“So the kid claims a white guy paid him to mail the box.”
Thomas rocked back in the chair.
“Do you believe him?”
“If he’s a liar, that kid will make a fortune in poker.”
“Did you get a description on this mystery guy?”
“Caucasian, an inch or two over six feet, muscular. Buzzed blonde hair, military length. Fisher described the guy’s face as red and irritated. Like he shaves too close or something. He wore sunglasses and a Yankees cap.”
“Anything else?”
“Fisher said the guy was quirky.”
“How so?”
“After he handed the box to Fisher, the guy dug into his pocket. The kid figured he was reaching for a gun. Instead, he pulls out a bottle of hand sanitizer and disinfects his hands. Starts rattling on about germs getting under his skin.”
Thomas touched a pen to his lips.
“Fisher ever see this guy around before?”
Lambert shook his head.
“Never.”
“If this was Los Angeles, I’d sit Fisher down with a sketch artist.”
The tall deputy chuckled.
“Good luck getting a sketch artist around here. We’ll be on a two-week waiting list.”
“What do we do now?”
“I’ll send his description over to Harmon PD. Maybe it rings a bell with the beat cops. You heading home?”
“Not until I go through these forum posts.”
Lambert patted Thomas on the shoulder and walked to the break room. As Thomas sifted through the messages, he considered the information Scout had gathered. The picture she recovered proved the murderer was white. But he couldn’t prove Fisher was telling the truth, or the man in the video was the same person who paid Fisher to mail the package to the Bluewater Tribune. He tapped the pen against the desk and squeezed his eyes shut. The killer flaunted his murders instead of hiding. Why couldn’t they catch this guy?
He picked up his phone and dialed Naomi. Her cell dumped him into her voice-mail. Next, he called the house phone. No answer.
Ice formed over his spine. Where were they?
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Sunlight sparkled across Wolf Lake as a mild breeze played through Scout’s hair. Though Deputy Shepherd—or Thomas, as he insisted she call him—hadn’t poured the concrete, the carved paths allowed her to navigate the wheelchair through the bumpy, rutted yard. Trying to repay Thomas for his generosity, Mom polished the guest house windows.
“Don’t leave my sight,” Mom said as Scout wheeled toward the hemlocks guarding the back of the yard.
“I won’t go far.”
She stopped at the tree line. Though the shore lay fifty feet away, she could see the lake from here and taste winter’s chill burgeoning out of the frigid water. By summer, the water would be warm enough for swimming. A dip in the lake today would cause hypothermia.
As the water breathed against the shoreline, she shielded the phone from the sun. Unable to read through the glare, she muscled the chair forward until she rested in the shadow of the hemlocks. Over her shoulder, Mom scrubbed the windows overlooking the lake. Scout called up the Virtual Searchers website and entered her password. No new messages awaited her, and she felt a pang of disappointment. With Harpy’s aid, she’d discovered secrets about the killer the police hadn’t known.
Scout read the latest posts on the Wolf Lake murder and found nothing useful, just hyperbole she’d expect to read in the newspaper. She was about to give up when a notification appeared. Clicking the icon, she caught her breath. Someone tagged her name in a post.
She followed the link and found a message. A forum administrator who went by the name CerealKilla had discovered a new video from ScorchedEarth666. Her heart pounded. This was the first activity from the sock puppet account in months, and the video hit the internet two minutes ago. Why had the administrator tagged Scout?
While she waited for the video to load, she surveyed the water. Despite the beautiful weather, nobody was on the lake today. Her gaze moved to the state park. Smoke curled over the trees, evidence someone grilled outside the cabins.
The video still wouldn’t load. The WIFI didn’t reach this far from the house, and she relied on the slow cell network to access the internet. She read through the comments.
Ms. True Detective posted: Call the police, Scout. And please tell us when you’re safe.
Scout’s hands trembled. How had the poster learned Scout’s name? She never shared her name on the forum, choosing to hide behind the user name, Rokdab3lz, which referred to Rock the Bells, a classic hip-hop song from LL Cool J. Another poster warned Scout to get inside and call the authorities.
She could barely hold the phone by the time the video loaded. Her eyes flicked around the screen in confusion. The video title included Scout’s name:
Watching Rokdab3lz aka Scout Mourning
Scout played the video. This was impossible. The video revealed Scout in the wheelchair, her mother scrubbing the guest house windows in the background.
Her eyes shot to the trees. The shore. The shadows spilling across the yard like blood at midnight. A sob wracked her chest, and she fumbled the phone into
the dead leaves. She bent over and reached, but the phone lay beyond her fingertips.
A branch cracked like a bull whip.
Her head spun toward the noise.
“Mom?”
No answer.
Now she struggled to move the wheelchair over the soft ground as the wind became insistent, pressing her, filling her ears with its shrieking rage.
“Mom!”
Footsteps racing at her from behind as the damn wheel stuck in the earth.
“Help, Mom!”
Closer.
“Scout? What’s wrong, baby?”
Mom pulled the wheel out of the divot and knelt before the chair. Panic fluttered like frenzied birds in her mother’s eyes.
“He’s watching us.”
“Who? What’s going on, Scout?”
The tremolo ripping through Mom’s voice told Scout she knew.
“Call Deputy Shepherd. The killer is here.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
“Explain to me what you mean by EXIF data.”
Thomas shared a tired glance with Lambert. They sat across the desk from Gray, the sheriff’s hands folded in his lap. Gray’s face was a mix of confusion, irritation, and surprisingly, curiosity. As Lambert’s legs bounced with unspent energy beneath the desk, Thomas reiterated his belief the same man behind the animal murders killed Erika Windrow. On Gray’s computer, Thomas loaded the image Scout located. Gray squinted at the table top reflection.
“Appears to be a white person holding the camera,” the sheriff said. “But we need more proof. All this tells me is the video came from Harmon. We have a hundred thousand people in the city. You need to narrow it down, unless you expect me to arrest every white male.”