If It Walks Like A Killer (The Carolina Killer Files #1)

by Kiersten Modglin

  Phoebe’s haunted face was ghastly as she spoke, giving Rachael cold chills. “He just wouldn’t start breathing. I had to leave him. I started sewing Marianne back up. Once I finished with her, I hurried back to your mom. She was asking for you. I told her I’d get her all cleaned up and then we’d go get you. She joked that if you were anything like your father you’d be starving and ready to eat. When I lifted up the sheet to sew her up—” her voice caught as her fingers touched her mouth in horror. When she spoke again, it was a whisper. “There was another little head poking out. I thought maybe I’d gone crazy, she wasn’t even pushing or in any pain but there it was. Another baby. I bent down, ready to pull the baby out. I told your mom to push, when she did blood just started pouring out of her. It was like a waterfall. The baby was so covered in blood I nearly dropped her. She was alert and awake, crying. I wrapped her up and set her on the bed, underneath a lamp to keep her warm. I began working on your mother right after that. I tried so hard to find the tear, please believe me, but there was just so much blood. The bed was soaked. It was no use. I spent thirty minutes with her, before she was gone. The doctor came in and we tried to resuscitate, but she was just gone. It was the most heartbreaking night of my career. Other nurses came in to help clean up your mother and Marianne, and the babies of course. You have to understand the stress I was under, my miscarriage. I know it’s no excuse but it had taken a toll on me, everything hurt so bad.”

  Tears began to fall steadily from her eyes. “So, when the nurse asked me which baby belonged to which mother, I saw your mother lying there, she’d left your father a beautiful baby girl. A baby he could raise and love, and then I looked at Marianne, who’d lost her son and her husband all at once. I just couldn’t stand to take one more thing from her. So, I lied. I let them switch the babies, let them tell Marianne that she’d delivered a healthy baby girl and both families went home with a baby. I know what I did was wrong and there’s no way to make it right. I would’ve done anything to save your mother. It was all my fault. I was a wreck and my head wasn’t clear. It should never have happened. It’s the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. It’s haunted me every day since then. Night and day. I left the hospital shortly after, took to drinking. That’s when I found Shayna. She was a life saver. She helped me to accept what I’d done and move forward. Then, last night she called me and told me your story. I knew it was time to come forward, to accept the consequences of my actions. I won’t let anyone else be affected by my thoughtless misjudgment. Please, dear girl, please let me help you. Please know that you can never hate me the way I hate myself.” She stopped talking, tears streaming down her wrinkled cheeks.

  Rachael sat in pure disbelief, unable to think about or process what was being said. The room was silent, all eyes on her. “So you’re telling me, what? My mother had another baby? I have a sibling?” She said it with a grin on her face, expecting someone to laugh.

  “I’m saying that you have a sister, honey.”

  “A twin sister, Rachael. An identical twin sister,” Shayna added, begging her to catch on.

  “No one ever knew? Her dad wasn’t shocked when they only gave him one baby?” Argus asked stiffly.

  “We didn’t have ultrasounds back then, the ones we did have were considered luxury. With a stethoscope, it’s pretty common for one baby to hide behind another. Neither of your parents knew they were having twins, not even their doctor.”

  “How ironic,” Argus scoffed, looking at Rachael.

  “So, you’re saying you believe that my twin sister, who I’ve never met and who I have no reason to believe even knows I exist, killed my husband’s girlfriend and then left me to take the blame?”

  “It’s farfetched, we know, but it would make sense.”

  “Make sense? Are you kidding me? This makes even less sense than believing Caide did this.” She stood up, trying to keep herself calm.

  “Rachael, honey, I know this is tough. Nothing about this is easy, but it’s happening, right? The story matched your mother’s death, the birthmark testimony is on tape from twenty years ago, way before this case, before I met you. It would make sense. It explains why you don’t remember being on that tape, not because you were suffering from some mental disorder, but because it wasn’t you. Don’t you see?”

  Rachael’s head swam with confusion. “But why? Why would she, what reason could there possibly be? You believe it’s just a coincidence?”

  “Well.” Shayna looked to Phoebe. “We don’t know. That’s what we still need to find out. Unfortunately, we have about seven hours to do this. We have no records of the other baby, no way to know where she ended up or where she is now. We don’t even know if she knows about you.”

  “And if she does?” Argus spoke up.

  “What?” Rachael looked at him.

  “What if her plan was to frame you, Rachael? I mean, she didn’t bother covering her face at all and she killed your husband’s girlfriend. That makes you the best suspect and it becomes extremely easy to lock you up. Maybe that’s what she wanted all along.”

  “But why?” Rachael whined.

  “I don’t know. Your dad never mentioned another baby, did he? You never met any little girls who looked like you? Never had anyone strange ever contact you?”

  “No.” Rachael sank back onto the couch. The room grew silent, each of them trying to figure out this dilemma. When Argus’ ringtone tore through the silence, they all jumped. He looked at the screen, a weird look on his face, before stepping out of the room.

  “Rachael, I need you to think hard, okay? Phoebe has agreed to testify at great personal risk, but her testimony alone won’t be enough. There’s no medical proof of you having a twin. We need something solid for court. We need to know if she is trying to frame you, and we need to know why. We need to find out what she wants. Without something solid I’m afraid the evidence will be tossed out. Think. Why would she be after you?”

  Before Rachael could respond, the door opened again and Argus reentered, a ghastly look on his face. He still held his phone in his hand, not making eye contact with anyone. Rachael felt a lump in her throat once again, knowing a look like that could only bring bad news. “Argus?”

  “I don’t think it’s her.” He looked at Shayna fiercely.

  “Huh?” Rachael asked.

  “I don’t think its Rachael the twin is after.” He refused to look at Rachael, locking his eyes on Shayna.

  “What do you mean?” Rachael stood up, frustrated that he wouldn’t look her way.

  “News of the affair between Caide and Audrey just got out.”

  Shayna gasped. “What?”

  Rachael’s head began to spin. Argus looked at her, finally. “Audrey Hagen was found dead this morning. I don’t think this woman is out to get Rachael, I think she’s getting rid of anyone close to Caide.”

  “No,” Rachael screamed, her legs beginning to shake. My kids.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  Elise Moss

  Elise Moss was three years old the first time her mother told her she hated her. Elise had always known that she’d had a father and a brother once, long ago, before she’d come along. Her mother didn’t like to talk about them and whenever Elise would ask, she’d just turn the TV up and ignore her altogether. Elise knew there was a time, before she existed, when her mother had been happy, when her father led a church youth group, and her brother played on the school’s soccer team. Sometimes, when her mom’s drinking got too bad, Elise would hide in her closet and try to imagine that time. She pictured her mother singing, her father rocking her on his lap, even her brother teaching her to play one of the board games that now sat in the back of his closet gathering dust. When Elise was eight years old, her mother moved her out of the nursery, out of the crib she hadn’t fit in in years, and into Ben’s old room. It was blue and green, a boy’s room with monster trucks and soccer balls on the wall. Elise taught herself to play soccer in the small bedroom where she was expected to spend her days, not m
aking too much noise and staying out of her mother’s way.

  By the time she was ten years old, Elise knew how to fix every meal for herself and her mother, she knew how to make a dirty martini just the way her mother liked it, and she knew how to layer all of her clothing so that it looked like it may fit and she didn’t have to ask her mom for anything new. By the age of twelve, she learned that she could take exactly three quarters a week from her mom’s purse without her noticing and if she saved long enough, it was enough for her to replace something she’d outgrown. Sometimes, she could even get her hair trimmed if she found clearance shoes. At age fourteen, she learned to keep her bedroom door locked at night whenever her mom had a boyfriend over. When she was fifteen, she got her first period. Her mother’s advice was simple: “Better be careful now or else you’ll wind up with a baby. Babies ruin everything.” When she was seventeen, her mother’s drinking hit an all-time high, she got fired from her job, and she punched Elise for the first time. Thinking back now, Elise couldn’t even remember what she’d done to piss her off, only the indignant look on her face after. Elise missed a week of school before the swelling finally went away. She never learned to ride a bike, never had a birthday cake, never decorated a Christmas tree, or waited anxiously for Santa. She spent more of her childhood taking care of her mother than she was ever taken care of herself. She never had a pet, never got to have a sleepover, never went out to eat at a restaurant, never went on vacation, and never had a hug or a kiss goodnight. Elise was never told that she was good or worthy or wanted. She led a quiet life, the little girl in the back of the classroom who never raised her hand and always looked like she needed a bath. The summer after she graduated high school she came home to find her mother on her bed, crying and cradling a bottle of vodka.

  “Mom? What’s wrong?”

  Marianne had a box of pictures that Elise had never seen laying open on the bed. Pictures of Marianne, Isaac, and Ben. Pictures from before the accident, before Elise. Elise picked up a picture, one where Isaac and Marianne were smiling at each other, Ben standing in between them. Her mother was almost unrecognizable, so healthy and happy. She looked at the pictures: Ben’s birthday parties, first days of school, soccer trophies, Isaac and Marianne on their wedding day, Isaac with his arms wrapped around Marianne’s pregnant belly. The three of them at the beach, at the zoo, at the park. Ben kissing Isaac’s nose. Elise felt her heart breaking, knowing that she would never be a part of this family: a family that was happy, a family that loved.

  “It’s okay, Momma,” she said, trying to keep the pictures safe as Marianne spilled her drink on the bed.

  “I should’ve died.” Marianne sobbed.

  “What?” She tried to take the bottle away, but Marianne moved it hastily, taking another swig.

  “I should’ve died that night. They all died, it’s not fair. I’m the only one who lived but I should’ve died too. They left me here alone.”

  “You aren’t alone.”

  “I’m alone. Everyone died that night. Except me.” She sobbed, snot and tears soaking her face.

  Elise grabbed a washcloth from the hall closet and wet it. She attempted to wipe her mother’s face, her frizzy red curls getting in the way. “You aren’t alone, Momma. Do you hear me? I’m here. I love you so much.” Elise wiped her mother’s tears softly.

  “You should’ve died too. You never should’ve been born. You were never my daughter.”

  Elise was used to drunken insults, but this one stung particularly badly. “What? Of course I am.”

  “No. No. No. After the accident, you quit kicking. You’d been kicking all day, but you stopped. You just stopped.” She took another swig. “When I woke up in the hospital, everything hurt so much. I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t open my eyes but I could feel everything. I felt that doctor pull you out of me. Oh God, it hurt.” Elise grabbed a trashcan in time for her mother to spew vodka infused vomit. She wiped her mouth then took another sip and continued. “You didn’t cry. I sat there counting, waiting for you to cry, but you never did. Not once. So, I let myself sleep. It hurt so bad.” She pointed to her stomach. “Then, when I woke up again, they brought you to me. You were alive. You were crying.”

  “So, they saved me.”

  “No. You were dead. You weren’t supposed to live. I’ve always known it. There are no girls in your dad’s family and where did you get your blonde hair from? You don’t fit in with us. You don’t belong. I fought to get better, for you, but I shouldn’t have. I should’ve died with them and I hate you for making me fight. You aren’t my daughter.”

  Elise helped her mother lie down on the bed, slipping the bottle from her hand. She wiped the rag across her forehead and left the room. That night, Elise packed a bag and left town. She drove to a small town miles down the road and got a job waiting tables at a local bar. She dyed her hair black, ashamed of the blonde hair her mother hated so much. She would never know whether her mother ever even noticed she was missing, a few months later she received word that she had passed away. Elise would never go back to that town or that house.

  She started attending a community college where she made the first friends she’d ever had. There, Elise fell in love. For the first time in her life, someone told her she was wanted and she was beautiful. He was a professor who taught communications. They dated for most of Elise’s college career. He was several years older than her and just so happened to be married. He made it clear to Elise that he loved her and that he would leave his wife soon. Elise, never having been loved before, believed him. In the middle of her senior year of college Elise’s period came late, and then the next month it didn’t come at all. An over the counter pregnancy test confirmed what Elise’s mother had warned her about: a baby was on its way. At hearing that his student was carrying his child, Dave Hartley told Elise the truth: he’d never planned to leave his wife and a child didn’t change that plan. He asked Elise to drop his class and keep their secret. He told her it would be best if she aborted the child and that he wanted nothing else to do with her or the baby. So, Elise Moss was, once again, left completely alone in the world.

  On the night that Elise’s roommate was dumped by her longtime boyfriend, the girls decided to get a drink at a local bar somewhere away from home. Elise was three months pregnant and still trying to keep her secret. The girls found a small bar on the outskirts of a town nearby that was filled with bikers and middle aged men ready to give the girls all the attention they craved.

  The place was called Carlton’s. Elise was on her third cosmopolitan when she’s spotted a guy staring at her from across the bar. His confidence was obvious and her pregnancy hormones got the best of her. By the end of the night, Caide Abbott had charmed the pants right off of Elise. He was funny and cute and kissed like a champ. They’d gone back to a hotel room at Elise’s suggestion and after a few more drinks from the mini bar, they’d found their way into the bed. When Elise had awoken Caide was standing over her, she cracked her eyelids waiting for him to sneak out like Dave always had. Instead he stared at her for a moment, he brushed a piece of hair from her eyes, and he whispered the three words Elise needed to hear more than anything else: I love you.

  The next day, the events of the past night swam through Elise’s brain, muddled by an alcoholic fog. Elise felt elated by the memory that remained clear, this man loved her. He’d felt the same, amazing spark that she had. He’d known, just as Elise had, that it was love at first sight. Elise had to let him know she felt the same way. Elise went back to Carlton’s Bar and asked about Caide. She discovered he lived nearby, though no one was quite sure where. For the next month, she spent every night at the bar waiting for Caide but he never came. Elise knew Caide must be looking for her too, she wouldn’t give up. She dropped out of college and spent her days aimlessly searching for the man who loved her so. She eventually took a job as a bartender at Carlton’s, waiting for the day when her love would walk in the door. In June,
Elise awoke to a puddle of blood soaking her sheets, at only five months along she was losing the baby. Elise knew this would only leave room for a new baby inside of her: Caide’s.

  When she finally saw Caide again, three years had gone by. She was jogging through the park one day when she heard his voice. His magical voice.

  “Hey,” he screamed.

  She turned to see him, instantly remembering his voice. Tears formed in her eyes when she realized that it was, in fact, her true love. She opened her mouth to scream out, but stopped when she saw the little girl on his shoulders, her blonde ringlets flowing in the wind. Her white sundress wrapped around his neck as she giggled.

  “Faster, Daddy,” she yelled.

  Daddy. The word stabbed Elise’s heart like a thousand knives. Before she had time to wonder who he had betrayed her with, she saw him approaching a group of three other people. There was a young, attractive couple, both with icy black hair, and a blonde woman whose face Elise couldn’t quite see. They all sat down at a picnic table, the blonde laying out food for everyone and the black haired woman pouring them each a glass of wine. Elise watched as Caide sat the young girl between the blonde and himself, kissing them both atop the head. She sat for hours watching the couples talking and laughing before the lunch was finally over. The blonde hugged the dark haired woman tightly while the men shook hands. Elise jogged from her hiding place to her car, keeping her eyes on them. She followed them home, to a town three hours away. They had a small house in the country with a swing set in the front yard, the kind of home Elise would’ve killed for. Elise watched them get out of their car. She tried to get a good look at the woman, when she finally turned her head Elise gasped. It was her. Elise was staring at herself. The woman had blonde hair, the color Elise’s had been before she’d dyed it. She was shorter and a bit rounder than Elise, probably from carrying the child, but it was obvious, nonetheless, that this woman was the spitting image of Elise.