He had decided to go check on Cheryl; hadn’t he seen her on her deck that very morning? Maybe she had a little more she would say. But at least Tommy would let her know about Kenny being in the hospital. Tommy knocked on her door and waited. There was no answer. He knocked again and waited. No answer. Tommy pressed his ear against the door but could hear nothing from the other side. Cheryl’s car was in the driveway; maybe a friend had come to pick her up. He tried the doorhandle; it was locked. Frustrated, Tommy walked down her steps and got back in his vehicle.
I better call Betse and let her know how things are going, Tommy thought to himself. At the motel he called his wife and checked in. “I don’t think he’s got much time, Betse,” Tommy told his wife, “I’m sure I’ll be heading back home by the weekend. Everything okay without me?”
“I’m sure I can take out the garbage on my own, honey,” Betse answered with a giggle, “you spend as much time as you need getting this story. Your friend needs you now. Don’t you think you better call his family?”
She was right, of course, but Tommy wanted to wait until he had gotten his story. He just hoped it wouldn’t be too late. Besides, if it got to that, the hospital would contact Kenny’s family no doubt. “I will call them tonight, after I go back to the hospital, Betse. I’ll call his brother, Bobby, and his cousin, Cherri. They’re the two who have come to visit him. They can contact any other family Kenny has left. I’ll try to go to Cheryl’s again as well.”
After he hung up, Tommy had no idea what to do with himself. He had the entire day before he was allowed back at the hospital for visiting hours. He decided to do some research on Greg Bennett.
*
Seven hours later Tommy snapped his eyes open. He had heard a car backfiring outside the motel, and it startled him awake. Awake? Have I been asleep? Last Tommy recalled he had been reading the endless conviction list of Greg Bennett and story after newspaper story of Greg’s petty crimes that had grown larger over the years to evolve into felonies, and yes…rape. Several of them. More than just that 14-year-old girl that Cheryl had told him about. Each time Greg had gone to prison, but he would only get a handful of months, or maybe two years at the most. He was a good prisoner and usually got out early, only to reoffend. His last conviction was in 2015, when Greg had held up a convenience store and raped and beaten the 41-year-old woman running the cash. He had been released from that one in 2017. Where was he now?
Tommy searched the online phone directory on a whim and low-and-behold there was a listing for a Greg Bennett in Toutle, not even 50 miles from Barrington. He’d check that out tomorrow.
Now Tommy rubbed his eyes with his fists and sat up, moving the laptop to the side of the bed. He looked at the clock. “4:30 p.m.,” he said aloud, “I have just enough time to freshen up and get back to the hospital to check on Kenny.”
*
Thirty minutes later Tommy walked into Kenny’s hospital room. He carried a bag with hamburgers and fries in one hand, and a bag from the liquor store in the other. His notebook and recorder were tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. As he stepped through the door, Tommy felt the blood draining from his face. Kenny lay in the bed, his arms sprawled crookedly to each side of him, his mouth wide open and his eyes closed. He was devastatingly pale. So pale, that if there hadn’t been a heart monitor hooked up to Kenny, Tommy would have been sure that he must be dead.
Setting the bags down, Tommy rushed to Kenny’s side and took one of his arms. Kenny moved ever so slightly, and Tommy relaxed. He gave his friend a little shake. “Kenny, you awake? I brought you something to eat…and to drink.” Tommy walked around to the other side of the bed and got two paper cups from the table. Then he picked up the two bags and returned to Kenny’s side. Sitting down on a chair next to the bed, Tommy pulled a bottle of rye out of the liquor store bag and poured two healthy drinks for them.
Kenny tried to sit up, “Whatcha got there?” he said now seemingly interested.
Tommy set the drinks down on the bedside table and stood up, “Here, let me prop you up in bed, and we can have a drink together, Kenny.” He used the button on the side of the automated bed to raise the head of it up, moving Kenny into an upright position. Then he repositioned two pillows behind Kenny’s head. When he felt Kenny looked comfortable enough, he handed him one of the paper cups filled with rye and took the other in his own hand. “To friends!” he said tapping the paper cup on Kenny’s. They both drank and Tommy refilled the cups. He spread the food he had brought across Kenny’s lap on the bed covers and encouraged him to eat, then Tommy sat down and waited.
“She really was my girl, Tommy…Donna was. After that day, we were a couple. Or we would have been. I now know that I loved her. Had quite a bit of time to think about that, you know. I loved Donna Richardson.”
“Kenny,” Tommy looked at his friend in the eyes, “what happened to her?”
Chapter Eleven
“Leave us alone, Greg!” Kenny pulled Donna behind him and stood facing the slightly taller, older man.
“Or what’re you going to do about it, Kenny?” Greg pushed Kenny in the chest, and he staggered back a little, “I’ll do whatever I like.”
Greg reached for Donna’s hand and she pulled away. Kenny jumped between them and punched wildly out at Greg, grazing him across the chin. Greg’s face changed; it grew dark and his brows knit together, “Shouldn’ta fuckin’ done that, Kenny,” Greg growled and slammed his fist into Kenny’s stomach…hard. Then he slammed his fist again, just below the ribs, into Kenny’s diaphragm. Kenny could feel all the air leaving his lungs and gasped, his eyes growing large. Greg didn’t stop. He kicked Kenny in the ribs, then in the balls, then in the head.
“Stop! You fuckin’ freak! You’re going to kill him,” Donna screamed. But Greg only laughed, then he turned his attention to Donna.
“Get over here, you fuckin’ tease,” Greg grabbed Donna’s arm and pulled her to him. She kicked and punched, but he ignored it and dragged her up the hill. Donna tripped and fell to the grown. Greg bent down and grabbed her under both arms, dragging her up the hill.
Danny stood up and took two steps toward Greg, “Greg, now, just calm down. No need to hurt Donna…”
Greg had a gun. He had pulled it out of the back of his jeans and pointed it at Danny, “Shut the fuck up, Danny. This has nothing to do with you.”
Danny backed up, both hands in the air. Cheryl reached up and pulled Danny next to her on the ground. He wrapped his arms around Cheryl who had begun crying. Kenny was still writhing on the ground trying to breathe.
It only took moments. Greg didn’t even pull Donna out of sight of the others. He ripped her halter top and threw her on the ground 40 yards up the hill. Donna screamed hysterically, kicking and flailing her arms, as Greg knelt over her, holding her shoulders on the ground. He punched her in the face and Donna began crying.
Kenny pushed himself to his knees. He was still in pain and could not breathe. He tried to stand and then collapsed onto his face back on the ground.
Greg undid his jeans and pulled Donna’s shorts down as she squirmed and cried beneath him. It was hard to see what was going on through the long grass, but Kenny knew. You didn’t have to be a genius to understand that Greg wanted to rape her.
Donna’s screams echoed across the lake, but there was no one else around. Cheryl cowered with her head hidden in Danny’s shoulder, and he rocked her back and forth. Finally, Kenny recovered and limped up the hill to where Greg lay on top of Donna. He was too late. Greg had raped Donna. Her face was bruised, and she was crying.
Greg got up and zipped his pant, “Thanks for slickin’ her up for me, bud. It was nice and warm.” Kenny took a swing at Greg, but he ducked and laughed, then walked back down the hill to the others.
Donna jumped up from where she lay on the hill and started running. Up the hill, fast. Kenny chased after her, “Donna, are you alright? Oh my God! Donna!”
Kenny caught up with her at the top of the hill wh
ere she had stopped, catching her breath and crying uncontrollably, “Why didn’t you help me? Why? You let him rape me, Kenny. Why?”
Those words raked across Kenny’s heart. She’s right, I should have protected her. How can I ever forgive myself? “Donna, I am so sorry,” Kenny didn’t know what else to say. He reached for Donna and touched her arm, but she pulled away from him. Hard.
In a slow-motion dream, Kenny watched as Donna stepped backward on the top of the hill. They were on a very small drop of only about a foot or two to the back side of the hill. Her foot hit a clump of dirt right on the edge of the drop and she wobbled, her arms swirling as she tried to catch her balance, suspended momentarily in a vision that would remain in Kenny’s mind forever. Then she fell. She fell backward, over the drop. Only a foot or two, sailing backward, arms splayed, legs reaching to catch on the side of the hill. Her head hit down with an audible schwack, like the sound a pumpkin makes when you drop it off the truck onto the highway. Kind of liquidy.
Kenny ran to Donna’s side. Blood oozed slowly from the back of her head. She lay with her head resting on a large rock, the only one on the whole hill, that had just happened to be exactly where Donna fell. “Oh my, God, Donna.” Kenny yelled and reached for her. Her eyes were closed. He thought she might be dead.
“Guys!” Kenny stood and yelled down the hill to the others, “Get up here! Donna fell. She’s hurt…bad! Real bad! Come quick!” Kenny felt tears welling up in his eyes and his throat constricting. He could feel his heart racing.
Seconds later it seemed, Danny and Cheryl were by his side. Kenny looked down the hill and saw Greg sauntering up, smoking a cigarette and taking his time.
Cheryl looked at Donna and gasped, holding a hand in front of her face, “Is she dead?”
“I…I’m not sure…” Kenny didn’t want to touch her for fear of finding out that she was dead. But then Donna took in a breath. Not a big one, but her lips opened, and they could see her inhale. Her chest moved ever so slightly.
“You boys know she’s gonna be trouble. Better to take care of things here and now.” Greg had walked up and was surveying the situation, “We don’t need her blabbing to the cops. Then they start investigating and find out…other things.”
Danny and Kenny exchanged a look. Kenny thought that Greg meant their drug dealing and thefts, but he was unaware of Greg’s other crimes he had left behind in Seattle. “What are we going to do?” Kenny asked hesitantly.
“Go get that picnic blanket, so we can carry her back to the car.” Greg told Kenny. Kenny felt himself relax…but only a little. “Cheryl, get some water to clean her up. Danny, you see if you can drive the car up any closer – two miles is a long way to carry someone.”
Satisfied that they had the start of a plan the three turned to tend to their assignments. No one had gone more than twenty-five feet when they all heard the horrible explosion of a gunshot. Kenny turned immediately and ran back to where Greg stood over Donna, “Had to be done,” he said, “She was a goner anyhow. Heard her lungs gurgling…or something like that.” He had kind of a grimace on his face that turned up at the corners of his mouth, like he was trying to suppress a smile.
Kenny fell to his knees next to Donna, wrapping his arms under her shoulders and lifting her off the ground to hug her. Deep throbbing sobs echoed from his lungs. Kenny heard the sobs but could not connect that they were coming from him.
“Jesus Christ, Kenny. Now you’ve got blood all over you.” Greg chided.
“Fuck you, Greg! You’ll pay for this. You’ll go to jail forever. All of us saw what you did, we’ll go to the police,” Kenny yelled at Greg.
Greg threw his cigarette on the ground and stomped on it with his boot, “Now Kenny. Do you really think they’re gonna believe your story? Your comes in her too, ya know? Maybe this was a gang rape. Maybe you shot her?” Greg held up the gun, displaying it so Kenny could get a good look.
It was Kenny’s dad’s gun. From his shop, “Where the fuck did you get that, Greg?” Kenny lunged at the gun, but Greg moved it out his way.
“Where the fuck, ya think, ya moron? In your fuckin’ shop. You just left it layin’ out there where everyone could see it. Thought it would be safer with me,” Greg laughed and dodged back and forth evading Kenny’s attempts to get the gun back.
“You fucker! You stole that from the shop? That’s why you went back in. You said you forgot your keys. You god-damned fuckin’ liar.” Kenny was livid and was now screaming.
“What the fuck ya gonna do about it, Kenny? We’re all in this together now. All of us,” Greg pointed the gun at Danny and Cheryl and leaned in toward them making his point that they were included.
Kenny realized that Greg was right. They were drug dealers. Petty drug dealers, true, but it was still a crime. And the fact that Donna had been killed with Kenny’s dad’s gun did not look good. Kenny thought about Donna’s dad finding out that she was dead, and he closed his eyes. He did not want to have to deal with that. Not now. Not ever.
“What do we do?” he asked opening his eyes.
Chapter Twelve
“Holy shit, Kenny,” Tommy took a big sip of his own rye and filled both cups again. Kenny stopped and picked up his hamburger, but it dropped to the paper in his lap. Tommy picked it up for him and guided it to his open mouth. Kenny chewed a bit, then took a swig from his cup.
“I used to go up there, sometimes, you know. To visit her.” Kenny started.
“Where?” Tommy asked.
“The lake,” Kenny looked at Tommy as if confused, “I liked to listen to see if I could hear her voice on the wind. Or see her reflection on the water. Sometimes…I almost thought that I could. But I could always, always smell Emeraude by Coty in the air.” Kenny broke into a phlegmy cough which carried on for a few minutes. Tommy reflected on this statement as he waited for Kenny to recover.
“Why to the lake, Kenny?”
“Because that’s where Donna is,” Kenny said, repeating what Cheryl had said the day before.
“Kenny…they’ve dragged Lilac lake twice. There is no body in that lake. They would have found it. Did you…was it in the fire? They never found any human evidence in that fire.” Tommy was reviewing everything he had read on the case in his head. He just didn’t know why Kenny and Cheryl kept going back to the lake.
Kenny started laughing. Laughing! His chortles turned into coughs, which turned into choking. Tommy jumped up to pat his friend on the back and waited again for him to recover. “Not Lilac lake. We were never there. That’s where we told everyone we were all these years and so they’ve focused all their investigations on Lilac lake. I have no idea who made that fuckin’ fire, or the footsteps. Wasn’t us.”
“And the car?” Tommy urged.
“Someone said they drove up there that night and saw another car coming down the road. Again, wasn’t us. We weren’t at Lilac lake.”
“Where were you, then?” Tommy asked.
Kenny’s breathing was becoming laboured, but he continued, “Spirit lake. About 140 clicks north east of there. No where’s near that site, so Donna wouldn’t have even run to Lilac lake…if she coulda…which she couldn’ta.”
Geesh…all these years they’ve been looking in the wrong place. And…aside from the people who were there…I’m the only one who knows.
“You’re the only one who knows,” Kenny verbalized Tommy’s thoughts. “Ain’t never tole anyone, and sure as fuck, Cheryl’s never tole anyone. Maybe Greg has…but who the fuck’d listen to that liar? They’d jus’ think he was making up another story to steer the investigation.”
“What did you do with Donna…with her body?” Tommy hesitated, knowing this was sensitive territory, but he had to get the information…before…before Kenny could no longer tell him.
“We put her in the lake. All of us. We worked all afternoon. Greg wrapped his jacket around her head for some weird reason. Said he didn’t want her watching us. Then him and me and Danny swam out about 200 feet from sho
re and weighed her down with rocks. She sank, but Greg said that she would come back up once she started to rot and gases filled her lungs. He dove down with his knife and punctured her lungs…you know…so they couldn’t fill up. Then we spent the rest of the afternoon piling more big rocks on top of her. Cheryl would roll them close to the shore, we’d each come up and get one, then swim out with it. Most of the time I swam right to the bottom, so’s I could place the rock on her properly. I wanted to be close to her for as long as possible. But Greg just dropped them from the surface. Quite a few missed, and I replaced them. There is a huge pile down there.”
“How deep?” Tommy prodded.
“Say…20 feet down. Maybe less. It wasn’t too deep for me to dive and hold my breath, so I guess not too deep. She’s been right there, all those years. Just off the north east side of the hill from the main Spirit lake day use entrance. 200 feet or so off shore, in a mere 20 feet of water. No one’s ever reported seeing anything there…to my knowledge.”
“Holy shit,” Tommy exclaimed.
*
The next day, Kenny died.
Chapter Thirteen
By five o’clock the next night Tommy had sent his complete article to the PWGA TV station and the news anchor read it on the six o’clock news, using file footage from the original case and the re-investigation in 2005. They applied Thomas Coleman’s name to the credit and flashed a journalist photo of him from 10 years earlier. Before thirty minutes were up, Tommy’s cell phone buzzed. It was the police out of Portland calling.
They arrived in Barrington, Washington the next morning with a crew and Tommy drove them all out to the Spirit lake crime scene, exactly where Kenny had described to him. It was less than an hour before they pulled Donna’s skeletal remains from the lake. A distinct leather jacket was wrapped around her head, just as Kenny had described. Satisfied they’d get some evidence from that; Tommy took a couple of photos and left this story for the local news station.
The Girl in the Lake Page 7