Dead Air

by Michael Bradley

  “That’s the difference between you and me,” Julie said. “I do what’s necessary.” She fired some more shots toward the sound of his voice.

  Julie shifted her gaze and sneered. Kaitlyn had managed to get to her hands and knees. The pointed toe of Julie’s boot slammed into Kaitlyn’s stomach. Pain ripped through her abdomen. Kaitlyn doubled over and fell on her side. Another kick landed in her lower rib cage. She heard a crack and felt a sharp pain. Maybe a broken rib. She rolled onto her back. The dock’s rough edge pressed into her spine. She dangled for a moment, half hanging in the void above the murky water. With what little strength she had left, Kaitlyn reached out and clawed at the planks. Two fingers hooked on a bent nail. She prayed it would hold. Fire tore through her hand and arm as muscles strained to keep her from teetering into the abyss.

  “Don’t do it!” shouted Rodney.

  Kaitlyn turned her head and saw him charge toward the dock. Julie turned and raised her Glock. It would be a clear shot. There was no way she could possibly miss at that range. Kaitlyn flung her free arm forward and clamped onto Julie’s nearby ankle. She gave it an abrupt tug. Julie stumbled and fell onto one knee. Kaitlyn clawed at Julie’s coat, pulling her off balance. The gun clattered onto the dock, lost from Julie’s grip in the fall. Scrambling over her, Kaitlyn made a dive for the gun. A fist out of the darkness slammed into the side of her head. She fell face-first into the planking of the dock. Pain ripped through her cheek, and she screamed. Julie was already on her knees, lunging at Kaitlyn, who rolled over to block any further blows. Hands clamped around Kaitlyn’s neck and tightened around her windpipe. The sharp splinters of the dock’s rough edge gouged into her back. She pried at the fingers that dug into her throat. They refused to budge. Any strength she had left abandoned her. Kaitlyn flailed her arms, trying to land a lucky punch. Anything to garner even a moment’s reprieve. Her hands thrashed as she struggled to free herself. Her fingers found something cold and metallic on the dock. Julie leaned forward increasing the pressure on Kaitlyn’s neck, completely closing off her windpipe. Rushing toward unconsciousness, Kaitlyn made a final desperate move. She brought her hand up and pressed the barrel of the gun into Julie’s abdomen. Then, her world exploded.

  The sneer on Julie’s face faded to a look of surprise. Her shoulder jerked back, and she spun around. She fell forward, the full weight of her limp body came crashing down onto Kaitlyn. The dock heaved to one side, jolting Julie toward the edge. Her momentum pulled Kaitlyn with her. The gun fell from Kaitlyn’s hand, and she reached in desperation for a handhold on the dock. Julie fell off the dock, leaving Kaitlyn unbalanced on the edge.

  Kaitlyn’s fall seemed to take a lifetime. Her fingers scraped along the planking. The rough surface scraped the skin on her fingertips. Her nails chipped and split. Utter exhaustion had taken hold, and she no longer wanted to fight. Perhaps Julie was right. It was time to pay for her crime. It was better this way. No more judgment. No more guilt. The dock’s sharp edge dug deep into her back as she rolled off. Somehow, she always knew she’d end up in the Shallows. Her plunge into the water barely registered. Perhaps Jesse would be waiting for her. Would he forgive her?

  She thought she heard another splash, then a hand clasped hers. Is that you, Jesse? she wondered. An arm wrapped around her waist and lifted her back upward. As her head breached the water’s surface, the cold night air bit at her face. She took a deep inhale and started to cough.

  Someone spoke near her ear. “Grab ahold of the dock.”

  The voice was familiar. “Jesse?” Then, all went dark.

  48

  Kaitlyn sat on the back bumper of the ambulance and watched the firefighters hose down the smoldering remains of the old house. The rain had died down to a faint mist. The blanket over her shoulders took the chill off the pre-dawn morning. There was little that she could remember after falling into the water. A vague sense of being carried some distance. Someone telling her to hang on. Nothing else. She wasn’t even sure where the ambulance or the firefighters had come from. In the distance, she saw the glow of white light down by the Shallows. She wondered if Julie had survived. Kaitlyn remembered the gunshot and Julie falling into the water. Had the shot been fatal?

  She’d have to answer some difficult questions before this was all over. There was no chance she could hide the truth any longer. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all. She’d lived with her actions for years, her only punishment a self-imposed isolation. Perhaps it was time to face up to what she’d done. Would she end up doing jail time? She didn’t know the legal ramifications, but whatever they were, it would be a small price to pay considering how many lives had been lost because of her lies. Brad, Zeke, and Sammy . . . and maybe even Julie. Their deaths could have been avoided if she had faced up to the consequences of her actions years ago.

  A silhouette made its way up the path from the Shallows. The light from the pond surrounded the hunched figure as it approached. When Rodney came closer, she saw the deep frown lines on his face in the flash of the ambulance’s red lights. He took a seat next to her on the bumper. His clothing was damp, and his hair was still matted down and wet.

  He was quiet for a moment, staring back toward the pond. Without looking at her, he asked, “How are you?”

  “I’ll survive. Did they find her?”

  Rodney nodded.

  Kaitlyn didn’t want to ask, but she had to know. “Is she . . .”

  Rodney cut her off. “Julie didn’t make it. They’re pulling her body out now.”

  There was a sudden chill in the air. Kaitlyn pulled the blanket tighter around her. “I’m sorry.” She felt a pang of guilt at the news of Julie’s death. She wanted to remember Julianna Riley as the innocent teenager who’d tagged along with her and Jesse on the Riley farm. Yet Julie’s vengeful malice would forever corrupt the memory. She tried to lay the blame for all that had happened on Julie, but Kaitlyn’s guilt refused to let go. Another Riley dead because of her.

  “I didn’t have any other choice,” Kaitlyn said. “I barely remember pulling the trigger. But I must have.”

  Rodney bowed his head, staring at the ground beneath his feet. “You didn’t shoot her. Her gun was empty.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He shook his head. “I shot her.”

  The sense of relief she felt was bittersweet.

  “What really happened that night?”

  Rodney’s question came abruptly and threw Kaitlyn off her guard. Her shoulders tightened and she drew in a quick breath. Was this it? Her moment of confession? If she told him everything, would he arrest her, charge her with murder? Maybe she should refuse to talk until there was a lawyer present. The thought of a lawyer brought Brad to the forefront of her mind. Brad. He didn’t deserve to die, not for her and her secret. No, time to tell all.

  “You probably heard most of it,” she said.

  Rodney looked again toward the ground. “Tell me.”

  Kaitlyn took a deep breath and stared out at the Shallows. “Jesse had a personality disorder. Most of the time, he was fine. But there were moments when he became agitated, angry, violent. It never amounted to much, and he’d never hurt me before.” She remembered a similar moment years ago when she sat on an ambulance bumper telling the police officer that fateful lie.

  “It was around sunset,” she continued. “We walked down to the Shallows. When it was too chilly for a swim, we’d sit on the dock together. Just dangle our legs over the water. Listen to the cars speed by on the highway.”

  The blanket slipped from her shoulder, but she barely noticed. She told Rodney how Jesse held her hand as they stepped onto the dock. The sudden tightness in his grip had told her something was wrong. Jesse turned on her and pulled her close, forcing his lips against hers. His aggressiveness sparked some concern, but she was soon taken in by the passion and returned the kiss with fervency. But, when his hands started to wander, she knew things weren’t as they should be.

  “Jesse was th
e one who wanted us to abstain from sex until we both graduated,” she said. “That night when he tried to unhook my bra . . .”

  Rodney nodded. “What then?”

  Kaitlyn told him how she’d pushed away from Jesse only for him to grab her arm and pull her back. She saw the look in his eye and knew he wasn’t himself. She fought against him, but Jesse dragged her onto the dock and shoved her down onto the planking. She kicked and punched, but he was too strong for her. His hands pawed at her, making rough grabs at her breasts and buttocks. He tore at her blouse, ripping it open and exposing her bra. His hand fumbled with the buttons on her jeans. Kaitlyn screamed and pleaded for him to stop, but Jesse smacked her across the face.

  “Jesse told me I was a tease, and he wasn’t going to play games anymore. His voice was different. It wasn’t Jesse. It was someone else. I got in a lucky kick. Hit him in the groin. I tried to get up and push away. That’s when he lost his balance.”

  She described the look on Jesse’s face as he tumbled backward into the water. The mix of surprise and anger. She’d tried to grab his shirt, but only got her fingers tangled in his necklace. As he plunged beneath the surface, Kaitlyn scrambled to her feet, ready to run back to the house. When Jesse’s head emerged from the water, he seemed like his normal self again.

  “Maybe the fall snapped him out of it, I don’t know,” she said. “The water was up over his ears. He had to tilt his head back to keep from swallowing any water. Jesse reached out for the dock but was a foot or two short. He asked for my help.”

  Kaitlyn recalled how she shook her head at Jesse’s request and took a step back. He pleaded with her, but she refused to go near the dock’s edge. Her body trembled, and she drew her arms tight around herself. For the first time, she was afraid of him. She couldn’t bring herself to go closer. Then, a rising panic entered his voice when he started to sink in the mud. At first, he begged for her help. But as the water encroached on his mouth, his demeanor changed, and he cursed. “You whore! Fucking bitch!”

  Kaitlyn remembered moving to the dock’s edge and dropping to her knees. As the tears streamed down her face, she watched Jesse sink, his arms flailing and splashing. His descent was slow and agonizing to watch. He spat and sputtered when the water breached his lips and raced down his throat. She sobbed as his face slipped beneath the surface of the Shallows.

  When Kaitlyn finished her story, she turned to look at Rodney. He was silent, staring off toward the Shallows. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the thin leather necklace. She looked down at the silver Celtic Star resting in her palm as if it could absolve her.

  “You didn’t deserve this. No matter what happened to Jesse,” Rodney said.

  “But I killed him. Maybe I didn’t stab him or poison him. But I watched him die, doing nothing.”

  He turned toward her. “You never could’ve pulled him out of there on your own. And if you’d run back to the house for help, he’d surely be gone by the time you got back.”

  He turned his gaze back to the pond. “No. The Shallows killed him.”

  49

  Rodney switched off the engine of the Dodge Challenger and stared up at the gates of the Pennsylvania State Women’s prison. It’d taken him more than two hours to drive to the facility in Lycoming County. He hoped it wouldn’t be a wasted trip.

  He’d spent the last two weeks tying up the few remaining loose ends in the investigation. The inquiry into Julie’s death had been opened and closed quickly. He guessed they were trying to sweep everything under the rug. A bit of an embarrassment to the department to have one of their own officers turn out to be a stalker and a killer. Rodney half-smiled at the thought. She wasn’t the first cop to cross the line, and she certainly wouldn’t be the last.

  A journal found in Julie’s house had documented a yearlong spiral that started when she discovered Kaitlyn’s true identity. She chronicled every twisted part of her plan to punish Kaitlyn for her “crime.” The letters, the surveillance, even the murder of Brad Ludlow was in the journal. Although she had intended to harm him, Julie admitted that Brad’s murder had been more about opportunity than strategic planning. She’d followed them to Kaitlyn’s house that night, and his vulnerability was too good to pass up.

  The degree to which she was willing to go for revenge was disturbing. She’d gone days without sleep, going straight from work to stalk Kaitlyn’s house or the radio station. It became a depraved obsession that consumed her life. The journal detailed her delight in misleading the investigation. Rodney found his name mentioned several times within the pages. Her comments about him were far from complimentary. The book revealed a heartless, spiteful woman hellbent on raining a twisted form of justice upon Laura Hobson. It was a Julie Lewis he didn’t recognize.

  Julie did state, once, on one of the first pages, that she’d witnessed Jesse’s death. She’d recounted one of Jesse’s episodes during which he’d pressed her against a tree and held a lit lighter an inch from her face. Julie had been terrified. She confessed that she felt a mixed sense of guilt and relief when she watched her brother drown. Rodney surmised that the years of guilt had taken its toll on Julie, eventually pushing her toward vengeance against the only person she could blame for her brother’s death, Laura Hobson.

  The day after Julie’s death, Rodney had been on a walkthrough with Bernie Doyle. Bernie led him through the living room, which was in a state of disarray. Clothes were aimlessly tossed on the leather sofa, looking as if Julie had rushed in, changed, and rushed out again. The kitchen table and counter were littered with fast food bags and takeout containers.

  “The worst is yet to come,” Bernie said, leading him toward a room near the back of the house.

  Rodney wasn’t prepared for what he found. The small room was sparsely furnished with a desk and folding chair. A single brass lamp provided the only illumination. The computer, which had sat on the desk, had already been removed by forensics. The only thing left on the desktop was an HP printer. It was something else, however, that took Rodney’s breath away. Three of the room’s four walls were covered with photographs. Large 8x10s were intermixed with small snapshots. All of them of Kaitlyn. Some were taken of her running, some were taken through windows of her house, and others were in what looked like the parking garage at the radio station. Some were in shreds, as if Julie had taken out her unrelenting fury on the photographs.

  Rodney made a slow circuit of the room, taking in the varying images. “Damn. Talk about obsession.”

  “That’s not the half of it,” Bernie said. “We found almost three months’ worth of surveillance video. Looks like it came from those cameras you found.”

  Rodney gave a distracted nod. He stopped to stare at a photo on the far wall. It featured Kaitlyn seated on the rickety bench near the Shallows, and he was in the frame as well, sitting next to her. If he had to guess, it was probably taken from the interstate with a telephoto lens. He stared at the black-and-white image and seethed with anger. This invasion of his privacy was more like a betrayal.

  In her journal, Julie admitted to stealing department surveillance equipment and breaking into the house to place the cameras. She’d written repeated rants about Kaitlyn’s daily life, as well as venom-filled remarks about Brad’s frequent visits. Her words made her sound like a deranged voyeur angered by the sight of the couple making love. The often-grotesque entries made for difficult reading.

  He’d returned to the Shallows twice since that night, drawn there for a reason that he couldn’t quite put into words. Rodney sat on the bench and looked out across the water. Occasionally, the yellow police tape that still hung from the dock would flap in the wind and catch his eye. Then he’d recall the blood stain on Julie’s blouse where his bullet had entered just below her left shoulder. It had been a lucky shot. He hadn’t had time to aim. Just lifted his gun and pulled the trigger, hoping to, if nothing else, delay her.

  He also recalled the moment he decided to let Julie die. He hadn’t hesitated to leap in the
water and lift Kaitlyn back onto the dock. It hadn’t been easy. The mud along the bottom of the pond was indeed like quicksand. He now understood how easy it was for Jesse Riley to drown. Every move Rodney made dragged him deeper, and only through his own sheer determination had he been able to free himself. But when he pulled himself back onto the dock, Julie’s head broke the water’s surface. She looked barely alive, but her eyes locked with his, almost pleading for help. He could’ve saved her. He could’ve have reached for her outstretched hand. Instead, he turned away, picked up Kaitlyn in his arms, and walked along the dock toward the shore. He glanced back for a moment just in time to see Julie’s hand slip back beneath the water.

  The house, which had collapsed into a massive heap of burnt timber, was being torn down by the township. A precaution to keep wandering kids safe. Funny how they didn’t care about that before the house burned down. Woolwich firefighters determined that the fire had started by a lit candle landing in a pile of old newspapers during Kaitlyn’s attempt to escape. It sounded plausible enough.

  His gaze returned to the prison’s entrance. He hadn’t been here in almost two years. Nothing had changed. The gray stone walls looked cold and uninviting, as if to tell him that he was not welcome here. During his last visit, Carol had been adamant that she never wanted to see him again. Her words had hurt him more than he was willing to admit.

  He fought the urge to start the car and return home. The impulse, however, was fleeting. Two years had been too long, and he wanted nothing more than to see his daughter. Perhaps even to begin to chip away at the walls that had gone up between them. If nothing else, the Shallows had opened his eyes to what was important.

  As he walked toward the prison entrance, he thought for one more moment about Kaitlyn. She’d returned to the airwaves earlier in the week, and Rodney had listened every night. Maybe her other listeners couldn’t tell, but he heard something different in her voice. There was grief lingering beneath her words. A heartache that was going to take a long time to heal. He’d seen her once since that night at the Shallows.