by Mary Stone
Not that I could afford to be committing flagrant acts of violence right now anyway.
Also Ellie’s fault.
My nostrils flared. I whirled, swiped the closest object off the scratched dresser, and flung it as hard as I could. The cheap ice bucket bounced off the wall and hit the floor. A fault line now cracked the plastic container down the middle.
How dare she rob me of my plans for Gabe? My taste for inflicting pain on that traitor hadn’t come close to being satiated. If anything, the torture I’d had time to commit had served as a starter course. Merely whetting my appetite rather than satisfying the immense hunger churning inside me.
I returned to the bed, careful to avoid a suspicious stain near the far pillow, and sighed. Yes, I blamed Ellie, but to be fair, I also shouldered a portion of the responsibility. That wide-eyed cop never should have come so close to capturing me in the first place. Yet again, I’d underestimated her, and that failure was mine, and mine alone.
One thing I detested was a hypocrite. I demanded meticulousness from everyone who worked with me, so there was no excusing my own shortcomings in that department.
I crossed my arms behind my head and snorted. As exceptional as I was in many ways, I had to concede that in others, I was a bit of a cliché. The meticulousness, for instance. I’d picked my fastidiousness up in childhood, in the most yawn-worthy way. Via my indulgent but disinterested jet-setter parents. Between them flying off to foreign countries at the drop of the hat and providing me with little to no boundaries, it was almost to be expected that I’d grow up to become obsessed with details and routines.
I hadn’t always been the masterful planner that I was now, though.
Nostalgia filled me as I reminisced back to the early days, when that dark curiosity I harbored inside me like a malignant tumor was only just starting to form. In fact, the first time I pinned a neighborhood cat in our backyard and smashed his tail until he howled, I was probably only looking for a reaction from my mom, who sunned by the pool a few yards away.
Like the behaviorists said, negative attention was still attention. But she hadn’t even bothered to look up from her magazine to check.
Before long, I’d graduated to enjoy the way the animals struggled to get away, and the cries they’d made as I plucked their whiskers and sawed off their tails. Then came the day old Mrs. Dechert spotted me slamming a rock to her sweet little tabby cat’s head. I remembered the horrified expression on her face. The way my body had filled with a mixture of fear and excitement. This time, my parents couldn’t fail to react.
I shook my head at my naiveté. Yes, I’d been young, but truly, I should have known better. Having a juvenile delinquent shame the family simply wasn’t tenable, so my mom and stepdad did what parents have been doing since the dawn of history. They dismissed the narrative they had no interest in hearing.
She must have been mistaken, they told the elderly woman. Their son would never dream of committing such a terrible act. By the time the police showed up, even poor Mrs. Dechert seemed almost convinced of my innocence.
The cops asked my parents and me a few half-hearted questions, but no charges were ever filed. Still, I’d learned a valuable lesson standing in our entryway before the two uniformed officers that day, sweat soaking my underarms as I pictured myself locked away in a nasty, cramped cell that reeked of body odor and urine.
The idea of jail held no appeal to me, so I learned to exert caution and cover my tracks.
And yet, I’d pushed my luck again when I’d kidnapped that mousy, gap-toothed girl from our abnormal psychology class as she stumbled home drunk from a campus bar, in order to test out a new toy. The delicious knowledge of the scars that must still mar her pale, creamy skin excited me. I’d dumped her half-conscious body in the early hours of the morning, in the dirt near the sidewalk where I’d found her.
The first time she’d returned to class after that had been two weeks later, and I could tell by the way her eyes landed on me and then skittered away that she had an inkling of who’d attacked her. At least subconsciously. But either she never breathed a word, or she did and the campus police laughed her out of the station.
Even then, when I was young and still rather foolish, I understood an important truth. In a world where middle and lower-class college athletes could sexually assault intoxicated women on camera without being charged, who would dare accuse me, now that my mother had remarried into wealth? The son of a couple who’d donated an entire wing to my university? A generous contribution that I often suspected had been made with the express goal of offsetting any sort of…indelicacies that might arise regarding their only son.
Someone knocked on a door a couple rooms down. Muscles coiled in my legs, preparing my body for a potential threat. I ceased breathing. Listened. Voices echoed, a man and a woman’s, before the door slammed shut and the noise stopped.
Reassured that nothing was amiss, I returned to my musings. I possessed little doubt that both my mother and stepfather grasped at least a rudimentary understanding of my nature by the time they sent me away to a high-priced boarding school, or the very least, college. They simply couldn’t be bothered to care. They’d leave no stone unturned when it came to protecting the family reputation.
Unless, of course, one of those rocks was hiding a suggestion for mandatory family therapy, court hearings, or spending time with their odd son. No, they much preferred throwing money at any problems that arose for me, leaving them free to gamble in Monaco, or ride elephants while enjoying a five-star Kenyan safari.
Like all budding prodigies, I grew more accomplished with practice. By the time I’d moved on to grad school and murder, no one ever even looked my way when locals went missing. That was because I planned everything ahead of time, took no unnecessary risks, and followed my own set of rules.
Never the same location twice.
Limited transfer of victims so there was less trace evidence to worry about.
Wigs, sunglasses, changes of clothing and gait to alter my appearance.
And of course, gloves were a must. To add even an extra layer of safety, I’d abided by the philosophy that if I couldn’t guarantee a successful cleanup after my little games, then I burned the entire crime scene to ash.
Which brought me back to Gabe. The mere thought of him dialed up the burner under my simmering anger, and I banged my skull against the headboard. Gabe knew how exacting my standards were, and yet I’d delivered a subpar performance for him. I’d planned to savor Gabe’s death like one might a fine, barrel-aged Scotch, sipping at his pain over time so as to fully appreciate every delicious, fiery drop. The traitor had deserved no less.
After slamming my skull into the headboard once more, I glared into the crooked mirror beside the garage-sale TV. My reflection snarled back at me. Ellie had stolen my justice from me, an indignity for which she would pay. Dearly.
I sat up, calming myself by smoothing the wrinkles from my shirt. My little flame-haired puppet would pay soon enough, but she’d have to wait her turn. In the mirror, a wicked grin spread across my face. First, though, I had other priorities to tackle.
30
The next two days were hectic, with Ellie’s time divided between scouring Vancouver and the surrounding areas and meetings with the new Kingsley Task Force. She spent hours hashing out potential leads in the cramped, temporary headquarters set up in the Vancouver PD building, dissecting Kingsley’s potential escape routes, and chasing down any people of interest.
By the time she and Clay returned to Portland to board their flight home, Ellie was running on fumes. She’d busted her butt in Vancouver. Despite that, after stowing her carry-on in the overhead bin and settling into her window seat, Ellie felt defeated.
All that work, for nothing. No sign of Kingsley anywhere. Once again, the Master had vanished, safe from facing justice for his heinous crimes.
As Clay settled into his spot on the aisle and snapped together his seat belt, Ellie pulled down the window shade a
nd slumped. In-between hunting for clues and endless meetings, she’d attended Gabe’s autopsy. Any lingering hope that she’d clung to over the charred remains on the medical examiner’s table not belonging to Gabe died when his dental records arrived.
Comparing the X-rays provided by his old dentist in Florida to the body rescued from the burning car left no room for doubt. The man who’d spent his final moments screaming his pain from a trunk was Gabe. Burned to death by Kingsley, his former employer and a man he’d once respected above all others.
The memory of those anguished cries echoed in her mind, making Ellie wrap her arms around her chest and shiver. She fumbled with her phone and flipped on her playlist, turning up the volume until Gabe’s screams were drowned out by bass and drums.
At first, all Ellie daydreamed about on the ride home from the airport was holing up in her apartment for days and catching up on sleep. She even dozed off in the car for a few minutes, her exhausted body lulled by the constant motion. She jolted awake when Clay turned a corner and slammed on his brakes.
“Sorry. Some idiot shoppers darted right into the street without looking. It’s a zoo out here.”
Clay hit the gas again while Ellie straightened in her seat and blinked out the windshield in disbelief. Clay hadn’t been exaggerating. Downtown Charleston was packed.
Her jaw fell open at the sheer numbers of people out, scurrying along the sidewalks and crossing the streets toting colorful bags. Was there a festival or event that she didn’t know about? “What’s going on? Where did all these people come from?”
“Do you really not know?” Clay slid her an amused look before honking at the van that pulled out in front of them.
Ellie wrinkled her nose, about to tell Clay that she wouldn’t have asked if she did, when she noticed the big red bows and green wreaths adorning the storefronts and streetlights. She checked her phone for the date and did a double take. December 23rd. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve? Yikes. How had that happened?
“I guess I didn’t realize it was coming up so quickly.” Ellie groaned and slouched lower in the seat. So much for her plan to hibernate for the next few days. She’d been so caught up in catching Kingsley that she hadn’t shopped for a single gift yet, much less set up a Christmas tree or decorations.
“Looks like someone needs a little help getting into the holiday spirit.”
She rested her cheek against the cool glass and ignored Clay’s teasing. Dealing with the holidays right now sounded like so much work. Ellie had no idea how she’d find the energy, but she’d have to try. She couldn’t show up at her family’s annual holiday dinner empty-handed.
Holiday stress dominated her thoughts when Ellie entered her apartment. She took two steps inside and froze as the fresh, crisp scent of pine enveloped her like a warm embrace. “Oh, wow.”
Her hand flew to her chest as she took everything in. Stockings dangled over the fireplace and garlands twinkling with white lights draped across the hallway and along the kitchen counter. Big red bows reminiscent of the ones strewn along the shops downtown adorned the walls. The pièce de résistance was in the living room, though. A nine-foot Christmas tree with a shiny gold star on top towered along the wall, all lit up and decked out in an array of colorful ornaments.
“Surprise!” Jillian beamed at her from the kitchen, but her smile faltered when Ellie didn’t speak. “It’s a good surprise, I hope?”
Ellie swallowed the knot in her throat and blinked away the tears. After all the crying yesterday, she was surprised she had any left.
“Are you kidding? This is the best surprise! Thank you so much. You have no idea how happy this makes me.” Ellie rushed forward and threw her arms around her friend, wrapping her in a tight hug. Maybe a little too tight, because Jillian yelped. “Oops, sorry. Didn’t mean to break my very own Christmas elf. I’m just so thankful.”
Jillian rubbed Ellie’s shoulders, and mock scowled. “I’m glad I could help, but let’s dial the thankfulness down a few notches, okay? Us Christmas elves are more fragile than we look. Oh my god, you’re not crying, are you? Why are you crying? This was supposed to make you happy, not sad.”
Ellie blinked harder, but her eyes refused to stop leaking. She couldn’t help it. She’d returned home feeling so down, only to open the door to an irrefutable reminder of how lucky she was. Her life was so full and rich now, with family and the best of friends. What a difference a few years could make.
She smiled through her tears. “I am happy! These are my happy tears, I swear. I’m just feeling emotional over how lucky I am to have all of you in my life.” She turned a semi-circle so that her gaze could encompass Jillian, Jacob, and Clay.
“Woof! Woof!” Sam interrupted the moment by bounding over to Ellie and rubbing up against her legs. A ridiculous stuffed toy dangled from her mouth, and her thick tail whipped back and forth like a windshield wiper set for a downpour.
Everyone laughed, Ellie included. “Yes, I’m lucky to have you too, you big goober.” Ellie scratched the dog’s head, while from his bed in the corner, Duke rested his dark head on his paws and groaned. “And you! Even if you didn’t greet me with,” Ellie squinted closer at the toy drooping from Sam’s mouth in confusion, “a jackalope wearing a Santa hat?”
Jillian shrugged. “It was on sale. Oh! And speaking of sales, I took the liberty of doing some shopping for your family on your behalf. I know how busy you’ve been lately, and I figured this was one stress I could remove from your list.”
Struck speechless by her roommate’s thoughtfulness, all Ellie could do at first was gape.
Jillian fidgeted and began wringing her hands. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. I saved all the receipts, just in case, and nothing is wrapped yet. If you hate it, we can take everything back.”
For the second time in five minutes, Ellie flung her arms around her roommate. This time, she made sure to resist the urge to squeeze. “You’re the best, you know that?”
Ellie spied the relief that swept Jillian’s features before her roommate flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder and rubbed her knuckles on her chest. “Oh, trust me, I know.”
From the kitchen, Jacob snorted. “Trust me, she really does.”
Jillian stuck her tongue out at him before tugging Ellie toward her bedroom. “Come on, I’ll show you what I bought. If everything looks okay, I can start wrapping.”
Of course, everything Jillian had picked out was perfect. Each gift, thoughtfully chosen. If she were being honest, probably better than Ellie could have done herself. Jillian hadn’t stopped at shopping for Ellie’s parents, either. She’d also selected gifts for Ellie’s siblings. Perfect ones.
“If I’d known that all those Sunday dinners with my family would pay off like this, I would have started taking you sooner.”
“Yeah, yeah, shoulda, coulda, woulda.” Jillian huffed as she put a lid on the last box. “Please. Pretty sure I started attending dinners not very long after we became friends.”
“Exactly. I needed you in my life sooner.”
Jillian’s eyes grew misty. “Hey, right back at you.” She cleared her throat. “Now, enough of this mushy stuff. Go grab some scissors and tape, and I’ll get the wrapping paper. We need to get these suckers finished before family dinner tonight.”
Ellie clapped her palm to her mouth. “Oh, crap!” How had she forgotten? Today was Sunday, and according to Kline house tradition, family dinners were always on Sundays. Impending holidays or not. “Let’s get cracking.”
With Clay and Jacob helping, the four of them made short work of wrapping the presents in the glittering silver and red paper that Jillian provided. Clay, Ellie, and Jillian finished wrapping two gifts each and then kicked back to watch Jacob painstakingly curl ribbon on the single present he’d been assigned. Ellie smothered a smile as her former partner smoothed the edges and fussed with the ribbon until the package met with his approval.
Clay whistled. “Jacob, buddy, you’ve been holding out. Why’d you never tell
us about your stint in the North Pole as Santa’s personal wrapper?”
Surprised, Jacob glanced at the other gifts strewn across the floor and winced. Ellie couldn’t blame him. She’d patted herself on the back for pulling off a respectable wrapping job until she’d spied Jacob’s work. In comparison, though…ouch.
Stacked up against Jacob’s flawless execution, the rest of the presents looked like they’d been wrapped by Santa’s reindeers. “No comment. Although, if I were going to comment, it’d be along the lines of, ‘good thing it’s the thought that counts.’”
Jillian poked him in the rib cage with the scissors’ handle. “Hey, we can’t all be Mr. Anal.”
Ellie’s gaze flew to Clay’s. A moment later, they both busted out laughing. Jillian’s eyes rounded before she dissolved into giggles too.
“All right, children, time to get your minds out of the gutter and help me clean this up so that Ellie and Clay can shower and change clothes before we go.” Jacob rolled his eyes, but even he couldn’t hide a grin.
A short while later, the foursome parked in the circular driveway in front of the stately brick mansion where Ellie had grown up.
Eustace, the family butler and another staple of Ellie’s formative years, greeted them at the door. She hugged him the same way she did every week, inhaling the familiar whiff of Old Spice. Of course, the second they walked inside, the delicious holiday aromas of Ellie’s childhood enveloped them: spicy pumpkin, sweet apples, and savory turkey, all accented by fresh pine, courtesy of the glittering twelve-foot tree that looked like it belonged on the cover of a home magazine.
Soon, Ellie was surrounded by laughter and the warmth of her family’s love. Even Dan and Blake, her stuffy older brothers, acted happy to spend time with her. She traded hugs with them while Wesley pulled faces at her from behind their backs. Ellie grinned.
Wesley was her favorite, and boy, did he know it. Her little brother, who now towered over her by a good five inches. Growing up, he’d been the only one who understood her need to buck their family’s high-society expectations. In this moment, she realized how lucky she was to remain so close to him as they’d both grown.