“Did they find them?” said Nick.
“I was there the day they found those boys. Three of them stretched naked in the snow.” Doug’s voice faltered, and his voice cracked with emotion. “I can’t even say it. That fucking guy had tied their hands behind their back and done his filthy business with them, then left them to freeze. Nobody ever saw him again. Just disappeared into thin air. Cops couldn’t trace him. Then a whole lot of kids came forward and said he’d been interfering with them since day one, only they were too scared to say anything.”
“And the rest of the family?” said Nick, a flame of anger flaring inside him.
Doug shook his head. “Alex couldn’t live with the idea that he’d forced those boys to go with the monster. He strung himself up in the machine shed at work. Brenda tried to keep it together for Lilah, but she drank herself to a place she couldn’t come back from. Wandered away from the bar one night and turned up frozen to death in a snow bank.”
“And Lilah?”
“Went to live with her Grandma Gloria – Alex’s mom – somewhere south.”
“Lethbridge?”
Doug nodded. “That’s right. She brought Lilah up to be a smart, beautiful girl, but that child was scarred for life. Never really got over losing her folks. But she was the bravest person I know. Just before Gloria took her away, she kept saying she’d find the monster and kill him. Married well, though. Husband played with the Calgary Flames.”
The anger swiftly transformed itself to the slow burn of jealousy. “You know his name?”
“Far as I know they split a few months ago. That’s when he came here looking for her. He was a foreign guy. Tall, blond strapping giant. Come from one of them Scandinavian countries. Can’t for the life of me remember which one.” He held a finger up and smiled. “Ari Maakinen. That was his name. A winger – real good on the power plays.”
Nick was quiet for a while. “Show me the team picture,” he said.
Doug led him along the row to the ‘80’s team pictures. He beckoned Nick over to look closely at the two boys in the front row. Their heart shaped faces and pale eyes reminded him of Lilah.
“We cut the coach out of the picture after the boys died. Put Alex there instead. Conrad’s in the next picture.”
Nick’s heart fell. Without seeing the actual picture, he couldn’t be sure it was Danny.
“D’you know that coach’s name?”
“Never forget it,” said Doug. “It was Ike. Ike Castle.”
Nick’s vision began to blur. The harsh fluorescent lights blinded him. “Are you sure?”
“Hundred percent,” he said.
When Nick turned to thank Doug at the exit door, he could almost hear a strange buzzing in his ears as if he was dreaming standing up. “Do you have any pictures of this Castle guy?”
Doug shook his head. “Nah – threw them all away after the tragedy. Nobody wanted to remember that monster.”
There was only a few things left for Nick to do. He sat in front of his laptop in the hotel room, a glass of scotch at his side, and googled the local newspaper. He hoped to search the archives and find the picture he was looking for. On the desk beside him was the picture from the Lakeland Love In Rock Festival. Scrolling through the sports section, he found the archives and searched back through the decades until he came to 1984. After checking out the January papers, he came upon a picture of the Peewee team, just before they reached the playoffs. He clicked the zoom button. All those shining young faces smiled out at him. And there standing at the side of them, his arms folded and a lazy smile on his face was the coach. Nick checked the rock festival picture then looked back at the hockey team. There was no mistaking the small wiry guy with the brown ponytail. It was Danny Johnson. No doubt about it.
Nick leaned against the back of his chair. He’d used the names of the people he was victimizing. A sick joke. Nick scrolled through that year’s headlines and soon found accounts of the tragedy that Doug had described and the manhunt that turned up empty handed. Until now. Until Lilah.
He changed his search to Ari Maakinen. Scanning the images, his heart fell when he saw him, a real Nordic god, and at his side the beautiful golden, green eyed girl with the dark cloud of hair. Lilah Maakinen.
Scrolling down the articles he was surprised to find that Maakinen was a master at staying out of the celebrity gossip machine. The only article he could find was a reference to the couple’s recent split, which seemed to have happened the previous summer, about six months before Lilah came to Silver Narrows. Then there was something about a custody battle. They had a child. A little boy. Nick remembered. The child on the phone. She’d said it was her cousin’s kid. But it must’ve been her son. Nick’s eyes burned with tears of envy and anger. Then there was a short piece – maybe three lines – that said Maakinen had gotten custody of the son and had retired from the NHL. He’d gone back to his native Finland to do some coaching.
Nick drained the rest of the scotch and took out the letter that Gloria had given him. There’d better be a damn good explanation in here, he thought. Otherwise she’d used him and made a total fool of him. He ripped it open and smoothed it out. There in front of him was her smooth, slanted handwriting.
Dear Nick
If you’re the top class reporter I know you are, you already found Gloria and Doug and you know why I came to Silver Narrows. But you also deserve some answers. I’ll try to explain. You know how you were haunted by a faceless monster in your dreams. Well, imagine that monster killed everyone you love and imagine your dying mother told you to find him and make him pay. I’ve waited twenty five years to do that. It took all that time to find him. And to find you. I knew you’d help me catch him, but I didn’t know I’d fall in love with you. I couldn’t help myself. It was so natural and some part of me really believed it could work. But Ari wants our son to have a mother and father. He’s a good man. He’s kind and he looks after us and I have to do it for our child.
Don’t hold back, Nick. You’re going to go far.
I’ll always love you. I meant what I said in those vows.
Lilah
Tears streamed down Nick’s face as he crumpled the note and booked a flight from Calgary to Helsinki. Leaving 3:30 tomorrow afternoon and getting in the next day at 1:15 p.m.
31
After flying over a vast frozen sea, Nick finally spotted the low lying white stone buildings of Helsinki as they emerged from the haze of cloud. It seemed his life had been spent moving from one frozen place to another and he silently vowed to pay a visit to Phoenix. He needed a shot of hot desert air to warm his frozen soul, whether he was alone or with Lilah, to consider his next move. Luckily the organization that ran the Silver Narrows Sentinel had given him the rest of the month off and was distributing a generic state-wide version of the paper instead. But Nick knew it was only a matter of time before they closed the small local operations down.
Tired of North American concrete and glass buildings, he checked into a lovely old hotel near the city centre, that looked like a stone castle. Its vaulted archways and shadowy corridors gave just the right air of mystery to the place. And, after climbing three flights of stairs, he flopped down on the bed and slept for three hours, dreaming of Lilah’s face, like a flower above the snowy white wedding dress.
After supper he set out to find the arena.
It was a pretty walk by the Old Town Pier. He strolled along the side of the frozen harbour with its tall old brick and stone buildings, their domes reminding him of a scene from a Russian fairy-tale. He slowed down to enjoy the strings of white lights sparkling against the navy night sky. He wasn’t sure why his legs felt so heavy, his feet reluctant to move any faster when every step might bring him closer to her. But maybe, he reasoned, he didn’t want to find her. Maybe he was afraid that she really meant what she said about Ari.
He tried to convince himself that he should turn right back. Have a good sleep, check out and fly straight to Phoenix. She’d find him if she real
ly wanted to leave her husband. He had no doubt of that. And if she couldn’t find him in Silver Narrows, he’d left his Phoenix address and number with Cari.
But he had to know. That’s when he hailed the next cab and asked the driver to take him to the Helsinki Ice Hall where Ari Maakinen was coach of the home team.
The driver spoke good English and jabbered on about how he loved the LA Kings and how he was saving everything he earned to take a trip to California with his girlfriend next year. He dropped Nick outside a long, low white concrete building whose front wall was entirely made of glass.
With each step, Nick’s heartbeat grew louder until he felt it pounding in his ears. He looked around, his face hot and sweaty, wondering if anyone else could hear. He bought the most expensive ticket. If she was here, she’d be in the player guest area, close to the front. He burned to see her again, remembering the soft curves of her body that seemed to melt into his. The softness of her hair against his cheek. The feathery brush of her lips on his chest. Then he realized he was crying and quickly wiped his hand across his eyes. Grabbing a cold beer at the concessions, he made his way into the arena.
The place was bathed in bluish light as the players lined up for the face-off. He took his seat and scanned the place. He wondered if he’d find her among the thousands of faces, though some part of him hoped he wouldn’t, for then he’d still have a chance that she’d come back to him.
He spent the entire first period looking over the audience. Maakinen was there behind the bench, immaculate in a grey suit, his blond hair carefully styled. Surely she’d be somewhere behind him if she was there. But all he could see were fans in team jerseys.
In the intermission he forced himself to walk around the inner hallway to the section nearest the home team bench. Leaning against a stall that sold ice cream and pop he waited and watched. Then he saw her.
Dressed in a cream leather jacket and tight, slim jeans, her hair swept up into a loose knot, she emerged from the shadows of the arena. All the love and joy rushed to his head and he touched the small, gold band on his ring finger. His wife, Lilah was there only a few yards away from him. He was about to step forward when he saw a small dark-haired child of maybe three years old run out behind her. She bent down and swept him into her arms, smiling that brilliant smile and covering the toddler’s plump cheeks with kisses. Maakinen followed close behind, his arm moving up to circle her shoulders. The child shouted daddy, daddy and Maakinen planted a kiss on his forehead. Nick froze. They were the perfect couple. And now they were heading right towards him to the ice cream stall. It was too late to move.
About a yard away, she saw him and stopped dead. He straightened his shoulders and went to step forward. Maakinen was distracted, looking in the other direction. Lilah shook her head ever so slightly and fixed such a pleading look on Nick that he fell back against the stall. She kept her eyes on him the entire time as Maakinen bought an ice cream for the toddler, unwrapped it, took a lick and handed it to the boy who was hanging out from Lilah’s arms. The child shoved it at Lilah leaving a smudge of white on her nose that her husband gently wiped away with the tip of his finger. Small but intimate gestures that gouged at Nick’s heart.
Maakinen glanced over at Nick and gave a polite nod, then guided his family away. Nick was sure he saw Lilah turn to look at him at least three times before they disappeared back into the arena.
32 Five years later
The line-up snaked from the street outside the Mid-Town Manhattan bookstore to the long table where Nick sat greeting the steady stream of buyers, who handed their books to him for signing. Each was labeled conveniently with the correct name by the event coordinator, a bright, enthusiastic girl in fuchsia leggings who flitted down the line with her sticky notes, checking the spelling of each name.
His hand ached, and his throat was dry from talking to so many readers. But when they leaned across the table with tears in their eyes, he had to respond. Survivors of sexual abuse who poured out stories of their own encounters with men like Danny Johnson, now locked away in a high security jail in Colorado. Isolated for the most part for his own protection from the rest of the prison population, and there for life without the possibility of parole.
The publisher’s rep, a smart middle-aged woman in a black dress, stood beside him beaming, whispering every now and again that he had a major bestseller on his hands and would be in high demand for a host of new, exciting projects.
At the invitation-only wine and cheese reception after the signing, he was pleasantly surprised to see a few special guests from Silver Narrows. Violet Olsen and her husband Tray had shown up. Violet’s eyes filled with tears as she hugged Nick tightly and told him she missed him just as if he was her own son, and how The Beanery was now a tea shop run by a delightful Japanese couple, while the old Sentinel office was a tattoo and piercing salon. Also that she always boasted to all of her customers that she was personal friends with Nick Hendricks, the hottest new features writer for the New York Post and now bestselling author.
Brad Brenner and a heavily pregnant Rosie had made a weekend of it in Manhattan and were full of plans about their new house and the cute nursery Brad had renovated. Brad pulled Nick aside to give him an update on the case, which had finally wound down after a long, drawn out trial. Ike Dewar had moved quietly out of town with Betsy Thorson after poor, long-suffering Madge had passed away from cirrhosis of the liver. He guessed they’d gone to Florida permanently because Betsy had sold the Silver Narrows Motel to a big hotel chain. At the trial Ike had worked out some deal with the DA in exchange for his testimony and already served a short sentence. The Schulers were in jail and likely to stay there for a good while longer while Jake Hardy had passed away a year ago in some sad psychiatric hospital.
Brad flipped the book open to the dedication page. He read it slowly. “To Lilah who gave me my voice then set me free.” Snapping it shut, he gave Brad a long, searching look. “You found her, didn’t you?”
Nick shrugged. “She’s gone forever.”
“No worries, bud,” said Brad. “Far as I’m concerned she’s still down there at the bottom of Silver Narrows Lake. We have no interest in going after her. We found the monster we were looking for.”
“You wouldn’t have nailed him without her help,” said Nick noticing another familiar face at the edge of the crowd.
“Too right, Nick. Let’s have dinner this weekend. You me and Rosie – and your date – if you have one,”
“Love to,” said Nick, but there’s someone way prettier than you I have to see now.”
“Back to the old ways,” said Brad grinning.
Nick smiled. “It’s different now. I think I’ve finally grown up.”
The red-haired girl in the green dress moved through the crowd, her scarlet lips parted in a radiant smile. She threw her arms around Nick’s neck and put her mouth to his ear. “I’m not coming onto you, Nicky, even though you’re looking more handsome than ever. That’s Jay, my beau over there. The hunk in the blue shirt.”
Nick looked over at a tall, husky guy who grinned and waved. “You finally struck gold,” he said.
“Never happier,” she said, grinning. “But I have a special request for you.”
“You know I owe you,” he said. “After all, you almost wiped my ass for me.”
“What a charming thought. Anyway. My friend just got divorced and she doesn’t want to be a third wheel with me and Jay, so I said you’d be happy to come along. She doesn’t get out much, but she got a babysitter specially for tonight.”
“Sure, whatever,” he said, “I lead a pretty quiet life nowadays. All work, no play. But I don’t mind meeting her.”
“She’s kinda shy,” said Cari. “She’s outside in Jay’s car. Come on and meet her.”
Nick followed Cari and Jay through the bookstore, stopping to talk to his guests on the way. It took a long while to get to the door.
They stepped outside. The moon was full, the sky studded with stars. It wa
s a warm night. Jay’s car was at the end of the street. A black Mercedes, the engine purring. Cari and Jay stopped as Nick started running towards it. Breathless, he bent to look through the window and there she was, sitting in the driver’s seat, looking right at him as if they’d never been apart.
“I’ve missed you, Lilah,” he said, his throat choked with emotion. “So much.”
She nodded and smiled that brilliant smile, then patted the seat beside her, tears glinting in her eyes.
.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marjorie DeLuca spent her childhood in the ancient cathedral city of Durham in North-Eastern England. She attended the University of London, became a teacher, and then immigrated to Canada where she lives with her husband and two children. There she also studied writing under her mentor, Pulitzer Prize winning author, Carol Shields. Though she loves writing sci-fi for teens, she also enjoys writing historical fiction and contemporary suspense.
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