“Much better” she said with a sigh and leaned her head back against the couch.
“It makes no sense though, I’m positive it was here I saw her. I mean that she was here, everything was the same except the furniture was different and the dock wasn’t there.”
“The new dock wasn’t there or there wasn’t one at all?”
She closed her eyes and she could see and feel it all. The little girl standing down from the dock, the striped bathing suit, the sad little eyes, the grass beneath her feet. The girl turning and walking away toward the water; that water that brought the feeling of dread and the need to save her coming over her like a wave.
He shook her shoulder hard and her eyes flew open. Suddenly his eyes were there in front of her, full of concern and the little girl was gone.
“I’m okay,” she said with a reassuring smile.
He didn’t look very reassured. How long was she picturing it? She wanted to ask but didn’t want to admit she didn’t know. Once again she had that weird feeling of vertigo, déjà vu twisted with a feeling of unreality.
“I was just picturing it, the old dock was there not the one we had built.”
He still didn’t really look reassured but he dropped it and she loved him for that.
“All right then, don’t do that again. So it must have been a while ago then, we just need to research and find out who lived here before us.”
“The realtor never really said anything about the previous owners. Seems odd now doesn’t it?”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah, it kind of does.”
She leaned over and kissed him hard. He smiled, a real smile this time. “What’s that for?”
“For being practical at a time like this, thinking of researching this, this thing,” she said with a smile. And for believing in this “thing” at all, she thought, for not thinking I’ve flipped my lid, for not taking away my hope. She didn’t add any of that but she figured he knew.
Jamison stewed all the way back to the office. He sat in front of the building in the car waiting until he calmed down. He didn’t need that idiot Smithers looking at him with that nervous expression of his and fiddling with his stupid looking moustache. He sighed, supposing he was being mean. Smithers, called by his last name because there was no way to take a man named Opie seriously, wasn’t that bad. The kid had as little meanness as he had common sense so at least there was a balance of sorts. Jamison was just pissed at Tina and James. He liked her and sort of liked him, had a good rapport with them both and then they pull this ghost, haunting, low budget movie crap on him. What game was that? And if he was honest, he was a little ticked at himself. He shouldn’t have sworn and peeled out of there like a rookie on his first day either. And he couldn’t picture that woman jerking him around when she cared as much about her daughter as she seemed to. Of course she could be acting or she could be as crazy as a loon. But his head and his gut were telling him that wasn’t the case, which meant he was going to have to dig into the matter further. At least he didn’t have to justify what he was looking into, to anybody but himself that is.
“Holy buckets,” he muttered. He’d already friggin’ talked himself into it. Didn’t mean he believed it though. There was no such thing as ghosts.
Smithers’ desk was deserted as he walked past. Susan sat behind the reception desk in the front. She was on her 14th year as the receptionist and her efficiency astounded him still. Sometimes it scared him a little but the woman was priceless. She mothered him to death in spite of the fact that he was older than her and that she had five children of her own that she mothered with equal intensity. She mothered her mouse of a husband, too, and he regarded her with a fanatical devotion spiced with a small amount of fear. The station was a modular home, a glorified trailer in his mind. It was new though and nice really, for a trailer. The old station had been torn down after old man Roberts had driven his old suburban right through the front of it. His equally loony wife had been arrested for shoplifting and he had decided to prove his undying love for her by busting her out. Took out the whole front wall but didn’t hurt anyone. Susan had been in the bathroom when he came through the wall and she decided it was an earthquake and hid in the shower stall. When Jamison arrived Roberts had dug his way through the wreckage and was trying unsuccessfully to get the doors of his wife’s cell open. After the mess was resolved Roberts got the cell next to his wife where they could hold hands through the bars. Jamison had gone into his somehow unscathed office and laughed until tears ran down his cheeks. The end result was a new station, so much mold was found in the walls of the shattered old station that the city council declared it a health hazard.
“Where’s Smithers?” Jamison asked as he filled a coffee cup at the front desk.
“Gone to breakfast honey, meeting that Jones woman,” she said with a wink.
He shook his head. “Doesn’t learn does he?”
“Nope.” Her chuckle shook her ample belly.
Jamie Jones was a middle aged woman who was still convinced she was in high school and she chased the men accordingly. She wore jeans two sizes too small for her large rump and her hair permed to an inhuman frizz. Once a man succumbed to her charms she immediately lost interest and be bopped onto the next one. She had a special interest in married men and had been the cause of several fist fights that Jamison had had the misfortune to be on call for.
“The FBI agent is in your office,” Susan said in a conspiratorial stage whisper.
“Goddamnit, why didn’t you call me?”
“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain with me,” she snapped, scowling at him.
“Sorry hon, bad morning” he muttered.
She nodded and the scowl disappeared. She knew him too well. She had been there when Marcie left him and she had been quiet and forgiving when he had been mean for no reason. Even brought him food every day to work for weeks and made him eat. He had bought her flowers one day almost a year after Marcie had left, just left them on her desk without a card. He had never said a word about it and neither had she but he saw the shimmer of tears in her eyes when she saw them and he figured she knew what they were meant to tell her.
Now Jamison took his coffee and headed to his office to meet his FBI correspondent and see if he would be a help or a pain in the neck.
Whoa, he thought as he opened the door. Not a he but a she. Way too young was his second thought, but pretty in a somewhat ‘I can kick your butt’ kind of way. The pain in the butt probability went way up in his mind. He wanted someone older and far more experienced, not someone he had to baby sit. He hoped she was at least here on merit and not because she was someone’s niece or girlfriend. Her black hair was clipped back at the nape of her neck. Her blue eyes scrutinized him frankly and her handshake was firm. She was small but strong.
“Annie Meyers, FBI.”
“Jamison.”
Her eyebrow went up slightly at his lack of a title but she didn’t comment.
“So you were at the family’s house this morning Sherriff,” she stated, not as a question.
Susan had clearly been busy. Probably hadn’t even asked the little FBI agent for ID. He would have to have a talk with her, and hopefully not piss her off again. The last time he pissed her off there was no coffee made for a week, and Smithers made some Gawd awful coffee. That had been a long week.
He waved her to the seat in front of his wooden giant of a desk.
“Just Jamison,” he said.
She shrugged. “As you like.”
He lounged behind the desk and she sat straight, legs crossed totally comfortable and undaunted by him or the giant expanse of desk between them. In spite of his misgivings he liked her fearlessness. She sort of reminded him of his mom before the years with his dad had worn her down.
“You want to see the case files?”
She shook her head.
“I have copies,” she said, tapping her foot against the black briefcase by her chair. “I’ll have a look at your notes though
.”
She dug in the case and slid her wallet across the desk, open.
Her ID he saw and smiled inwardly. By the book this one, probably with the bureau two or three years at most. Could be worse though, she seemed smart anyway and had plenty of backbone. Sometimes the really good agents were the ones with the huge egos, the ones that were never wrong and would stomp on anyone to prove it. No amount of skill or instinct ever made them tolerable to work with.
The wallet was a trifold and narrowly escaped being manly looking by the little embroidered dove on the front. A little boy about three or four grinned mischievously out of the last window. His hair was blonde but he had his mother’s blue eyes.
For a second he wondered what his son would look like, if he had ever had one. He could have grandkids by now if life had taken that road for him. For a second the emptiness of his life overwhelmed him.
“Cute kid,” he said gruffly.
She arched a brow at his tone and expression but didn’t comment on either.
“Thanks,” she said neutrally.
He shook himself mentally, pathetic he thought. “How old is he?”
She picked the wallet up, running a finger briefly over it before tucking it away in her jacket pocket.
“Evan’s four,” she said with a little smile.
“You married?”
Her eyebrow went back up but she stopped before asking him why he wanted to know. The trace of wistfulness in his expression told her it wasn’t nosiness that prompted him. He didn’t strike her as the sort of man that bonded easily with people and she sensed this was a rare opportunity with him. She hadn’t missed the way had looked her up and down and dismissed her right away. Not that she wasn’t used to that, with her age and gender, but it still always annoyed her.
“Yeah, over four years now.”
Are you happy? He wondered. Is he a better husband than I was? Of course he didn’t say that. What is the matter with me? He wondered. This case must be affecting him more than he realized. The crime scene pictures from the other cases flashed through his mind and he wondered how anyone could be unaffected by something like the picture of Susan Aimes. That was a picture he would carry in his mind until the day he died.
“You?” She asked, nodding at the woman in the frame on his desk. For a second he didn’t understand what she was asking, too stuck on the victims. Then he realized she was asking him if he was married.
He shook his head but didn’t say anything. Guess that bonding moments over, she thought. She wondered who the woman in the frame was, the way she smiled and looked out of the frame she would guess a wife. She wondered if she had died. It would explain the sadness she saw on his face.
He cleared his throat. “Let’s get to the files then,” he said.
He picked up the phone.
“Susan could you bring us a couple of cups of coffee?”
He could have just as easily hollered down the hall to her but she liked it when he used the phone. Made her feel more official she said. He owed her for snapping at her anyway.
“Sure thing,” she chirped back happily.
He unlocked his desk and pulled out the files, adding them to the one he brought back from the house with him.
“Let’s get to work,” he said.
Chapter Nine
Tina pushed her chair back from the desk and heaved a sigh. Research on the house was harder than she thought. She didn’t know where or how to look. James popped his head around the door, as if he had just been waiting for her to give up so he could take over. Of course he probably was, he had offered to but she had wanted to try. Sitting and feeling useless wore on her.
“You want me to take a look, Babe?”
His laptop was at the shop being defragged or they could have made a simultaneous search.
“Yeah, have at it,” she said tiredly.
He came in and stood behind her, his hands on her shoulders he massaged gently. “Don’t get discouraged,” he said gently.
She reached up and he took her hand and held it.
“You want to fix us some lunch while I take a crack at it?”
She looked at the clock and was surprised to see it was a little after noon.
She nodded and got up, stretching. She kissed him on her way out and he plopped down, immediately absorbed in the world behind the screen. She walked into the kitchen, padding quietly in her socks. Standing at the window she looked out at the yard. The wind softly stirred the leaves that had fallen on the ground. They flipped and fluttered in a perpetual game of leaf - leap frog. A lot of the leaves still clung to the trees, hanging on in denial of the coming winter. Clouds were bunching together in the east, hanging low and gray. She wondered if it was too early for snow. She went to the fridge and pulled out ham, cheese and mayonnaise. Her stomach rumbled at the smell as she opened the ham. She made sandwiches and took the open bag of sour cream and onion chips from the cupboard. Hailey had opened the bag and ate some watching TV. Courage the Cowardly Dog, Tina remembered, Courage having a war with some evil undead creature and Hailey giggling when Eustace yelled “stupid dog, you made me look bad!” That show was one of Hailey’s favorites. She could still see her on the couch, legs pulled up underneath her and for a second it was like she was there. The pain wasn’t nearly as sharp, she realized with a little surprise.
She’s coming home, she thought with a little smile, I’m going to bring her home somehow. She stood in the kitchen smelling the smell of her daughter’s favorite snack holding onto her hope with all she had.
Tina was unaware of the little girl in the room, as she had been unaware of her for years. Except for the recent occasions where the lonely child had fought her way through to make herself heard. Hailey had always been much easier for her to reach, children were more open than adults. More believing in possibilities, not yet convinced of the thick black lines between possible and not possible. Those heavy, sheltering black lines that adults found such comfort in, that didn’t really exist at all. She couldn’t reach Hailey now, wouldn’t actually. She missed her friend and missed the company and being a part of the world, missed having someone actually see her and talk to her. She was still too afraid of Him to try. It was becoming easier to reach Tina though. She hadn’t really wondered why it was easier, she just accepted it. She had watched for so long waiting for her chance. She hadn’t been able to save the girl the last time and she wouldn’t give so easily this time. She was still afraid of him, terrified really, and not ready to face him but she was stronger now. She knew she was stronger although she hadn’t yet connected it yet with her ability to reach Tina. She watched Hailey’s family’s grief and was full of sadness for them. She wondered if her family had went through the same thing. She would not watch this again, not let him win again no matter what. He couldn’t hurt her anymore. She wondered, too, if others could see her, since Tina could. She decided she would try again to reach others too, when the time was right. She had nothing to lose really.
They worked into the late afternoon. The sunlight coming in at a steep slant told him that it was getting late. He had read every file again, pouring over them in the hope of finding something that he had missed. Of course he didn’t find anything. The agent, Miss Meyers, he called her; he hadn’t asked what to call her and she hadn’t objected, still sat quietly reading the files. He had never seen a woman who could be still and quiet for that long. Twice she handed him the file she was done with and took another from him. He saw that she had organized the file as she read them. Which normally would have annoyed him but they were easier to find things in that way so he didn’t comment. Susan had popped in every twenty minutes on the dot to refill their coffee cups, her way of keeping an eye on him he knew.
Agent Meyers set the papers down on his desk and sat back and rubbed her eyes. The first sign so far that she was tired.
“So you think you have a serial killer here,” she said. It was phrased like a question but said like a statement.
“Yeah,
I think so,” he said, waiting for her opinion. He hoped that she had as much brains as he thought she did. If she didn’t then he would ignore her and carry on as usual but she seemed pretty smart and he wanted all the help he could get with this one. No amount of training could touch this situation and he had never been up against anything like this before. However, he didn’t want the whole thing to be jerked out of his hands and to be pushed to the side. Which was a real possibility here. It was his town though and he wasn’t going to step aside without a fight.
“I think so, too,” she said decisively.
He breathed a mental sigh of relief. Part of the battle was won then. Now he had all the backing and resources of the Federal Bureau of Investigation behind him. Of course he got all the rules and red tape too but nothing came for free. Agent Myers got up with a stretch and walked to the window.
“So we have three victims then, four really.”
“What do you mean four?” he asked, thinking of Tina’s question about what victim had lived at their house. He knew she wasn’t talking about that but it pissed him off all over again thinking about it.
She turned and was looking at him strangely and he realized he was scowling. He smoothed his brow and tried to look normal, feeling a little stupid.‘Pay more attention dumb dimwit, he told himself. This girl isn’t stupid and you don’t need her thinking you are either.
“Joseph Harper was this killer’s victim, too.”
“You don’t think he could have killed him though, do you?” He asked incredulously. “He was in a cell in the police station with probably five or six cops around.”
She shook her head. “Not unless he’s into voodoo as well,” she said with a smile to show she wasn’t serious. “I think it would be virtually impossible to pull that one off but I guess we can’t really rule anything out at this point.”
He liked that she said ‘we’ as in ‘we’ are a team. For just a second he was tempted to turn the whole thing over to her and walk away. While he could at least still sleep at night. He knew in his gut that this case would change his life, that nothing could be quite the same afterward. The image of Hailey rose up in his mind with her innocent eyes and sweet smile and he knew that it was already too late to walk away.
Down in the Lake Page 6