by Stone, Mary
It was Justin. No longer a boy. Now a man.
Although his face was masked in shadow, the hurt and anger was clear. She superimposed the child’s face over the man’s. The mop of unruly hair was cut closer to the scalp now, the round face of childhood had narrowed into strong lines, but the man staring back at her was Justin.
My brother. Her hand slid to the monitor, and the back of her fingers stroked the side of his face. She stopped and whispered his name just to hear it out loud.
“Justin.”
She moved the cursor over the PLAY button and hesitated. A cold fear began to creep up her spine.
“It’s just flesh and bone,” she murmured. This wasn’t a ghost before her. Or maybe it was.
She just didn’t know anymore.
Her finger barely touched the trackpad, and Justin exploded to life, even though he barely moved. He was staring at her directly.
“My name is Jaime Peterson. I think that things should be clarified, and to that, let me first address the deaths of William and Jeanette Black.” He paused for a moment as if making connections in his head. “They betrayed the true path, deviated from the commands Douglas Kilroy set down. They didn’t understand the path, and they betrayed the way. They betrayed Kilroy. They deserved to die. All who betray and lie deserve to die. What Grandpa couldn’t finish, I will.”
He glanced down at something in his hand and back to the camera. “Which leads me to Winter.” His eyes seemed to bore into hers. “You claim to be my sister. You’re not. You’re an impostor. I know this because I know the truth about you. You’re not Bill’s daughter.”
What? Winter stared at the screen, wondering if she’d just heard correctly.
He took a deep breath, and his voice took on a growl. “Your life is a lie. Your very existence is an abomination. When you murdered Doug…that’s Douglas Kilroy, in case you’ve murdered so many men that you can’t remember them all…you took the brightest and best. You took my grandfather, my brother. He was more real to me than a sister that didn’t even share my blood. He was my father, my sanctuary, and my best friend.”
“No,” Winter whispered. None of this was true.
“You weren’t there. You don’t know. You don’t know what he taught me. You don’t know the way of the path. The way of truth. Thank God he was there for me, thank God he was willing to raise me. I was his. Only his.”
Winter stared at her baby brother, the bile rising in her throat. She was going to be sick. Or pass out. Or something. She fought to breathe.
Justin shifted again and looked down once more. For the slightest instant, his face came a bit more fully into the light, but not by much. She still couldn’t see him clearly.
“In his memory, in his name, I vow I will finish what he began. I will dictate the safety of the path to those who listen, but I will not tolerate fools. You have been very, very foolish.”
Breathe in. Then out. Listen to what he has to say.
“I am finishing the task my grandfather set before me. He gave way to betrayal and false smiles, but don’t expect that same failure from me.”
Winter’s eyes were fixed on the left side of the screen. Justin was shaking. It was subtle, nearly imperceptible, but once she saw it, she couldn’t unsee the tremors that wracked him. The video ended, and his baleful eyes stared unblinking as the recording froze.
She was shaking too.
Winter reached out, stroking her fingers along his jaw.
It was every nightmare come true. It was every horrible thing that could have happened to him coming back on her in the daylight.
I need help. I can’t do this alone.
Winter fumbled for her phone. It was all she could to do to hit the button to connect her with the one who could help.
6
Justin stared at her from the monitor as Winter pressed her phone to her ear, trying to hold back the wave of emotions. Noah wasn’t answering. This was the third time she’d tried to call and the third time her call went straight to voicemail. The problem was, Bree wasn’t answering either.
They’re working. What do you expect?
Winter paced the room, trying to think. Given the time required to drive to the prison, chances were actually pretty good that they were in the middle of the interview with Strickland. Busywork. It was all busywork. They were out there following up on the stalest of leads when she was sitting on a gold mine. There was nothing they could learn from Strickland as significant as the video she just watched, and there was no way to let them know that.
“Damn it, Noah!” She swore through gritted teeth as the grown image of Justin…Jaime…stared at her, his lip curled in a sardonic grin. It was enough to make her skin crawl.
Call the Bureau. Report this.
The thought echoed through her mind on repeat. She was a trained agent. Trained agents didn’t hoard intel that might prove valuable. Neither did they keep secrets from their team. She was technically still part of that team…wasn’t she?
Maybe that was part of the problem. She wasn’t feeling the team thing quite so much right now. Besides, she wasn’t ready to lose this tenuous connection with Justin, or whatever he called himself.
So, what do I do?
Her mind wasn’t working. Reeling from the shock? She was trained in handling the unexpected. It seemed hardly professional to be waffling now over what to do. Shock, though, would explain her inability to think. One couldn’t expect to be rational when one was in shock.
Frustrated, she dropped her phone on the coffee table and tried to ignore it. She needed an activity to engage both mind and hands, a way to busy herself while she waited out however long the interview took. The table was clean now. She barely remembered wiping the tea off the surface, placing the cup in the sink while she’d been waiting for Noah to answer his phone. The apartment itself was spotless.
She growled, pacing from table to door and back. Think!
Who else could she turn to? Not someone who worked with her. No, she needed someone who cared for her and wouldn’t put the job first.
Autumn.
Cars and trucks rushed by on the other side of her window, the sounds of the city muted by the glass panes. For a moment, she let the cacophony wash over her as she thought this through. In the end, there really was only a single choice.
Winter picked up the phone and hesitated, her finger hovering over the screen. One more look at Justin’s face convinced her, and she tapped the speed-dial icon. No going back.
Autumn answered immediately.
“Hi.” Now that the phone was connected, the words practically flew from Winter’s lips. “Uh…I have…I have a problem. Do you think you could come over? Just for a little bit?” As the silence lengthened, she added as an afterthought, “Please?”
“Of course. I can be there in fifteen minutes.”
Winter exhaled the breath she’d been holding as emotion threatened to burn her eyes. Damn. It was good to have friends. “Thanks. Be safe.”
“Sure thing.”
As she disconnected the call, Winter appreciated that Autumn hadn’t hesitated or asked a single question over the phone. As if they had a mind of their own, Winter’s eyes shifted back to the laptop, searching out the form of her brother within the video’s darkness.
She was almost afraid to touch the keys on the computer. It was almost as if touching it would break the spell and destroy the illusion that Justin was still out there, still alive and…well?
She growled in frustration, raking her hands through her hair before pressing her palms against the sides of her head as if desperate to keep her brain from exploding. Memories of her baby brother raced through her mind.
Seeing him for the first time in the hospital, taking off the little cotton hat to see his hair.
Counting his toes and helping her mom give him his first bath.
Being peed on. It had been kinda gross but also very, very funny. And kind of cute. The first time, at least.
Winter smiled,
thinking of how many times she or her parents had been in the line of fire. Once, her dad had put on a plastic smock, complete with gloves and protective goggles to change his diaper. Jeanette had taken a picture of the silly getup while Winter stood in the background, her eyes rolled toward the heavens.
The thought of her dad caused the smile to fade from her face. Why had Justin said something so cruel? Bill Black was Winter’s father. Wasn’t he?
He’d read to her, tucked her into bed, looked into her closet for monsters.
He’d taken her to her school’s father/daughter dance, wearing his best suit for the occasion.
Bill Black had taught her to ride a bike and threatened to sit on the front porch with a shotgun when it was time for boys to come calling.
He never got that chance.
She never got the chance to drive him crazy with her teenage angst.
Winter stared at Justin’s image, heat rising into her face. Emotion burned up her nose and made her vision blur.
Her baby brother appeared to love the man who had destroyed and divided their family. He called Douglas Kilroy his grandfather. His father. His best friend.
His…sanctuary?
The thought made Winter shudder. The man on the screen loved the man who’d shattered their lives. Loved him how?
Don’t think about it.
Which was easier said than done, especially since the only company she had was her own thoughts until Autumn arrived.
Winter stood abruptly and looked around the apartment as if seeing it for the first time. She needed to get busy.
Tea. She could set a pot on and offer tea. That seemed suddenly important. If the kettle shook a little under the faucet as she filled it, it was too small a tremor to notice, as was the rattle of the mug when she brought it down from the cupboard. She tried to busy herself while waiting for the water to boil and eventually began to clean the already spotless counter.
She would stay busy.
She wouldn’t think.
She could do this.
Her hands were red and aching by the time the doorbell rang.
* * *
“I have to admit, I haven’t seen you like this before.” Autumn didn’t take her gaze from her friend as she sat slowly on the couch where Winter indicated. “I got here as fast as I could, you sounded…upset.”
Winter sat next to her. Her hands looked red and a bit chapped as she poured tea with trembling fingers. Autumn’s eyebrow lifted but she said nothing, waiting her out.
“It’s that…” Winter seemed to stall out, as though words had simply died in her mouth. That put Autumn on alert. Winter was the rock, the one person she would have said didn’t easily succumb to panic or worry. To see her this rattled felt strange. Discordant even. Like discovering your blue-haired grandmother used to be a swimsuit model.
“All right.” Autumn found herself slipping into professional mode, acting as therapist, not friend. “Take your time. I want you to try a few deep breaths. When you feel ready, I want you to tell me what’s happening in your own words. Don’t censor or study them. Let them come out however they do.”
Winter just stared at her. Her blue eyes seemed haunted and full of shadows that Autumn had never seen there before. There was pain in those liquid depths that spoke of true suffering, hinting at what exactly? Panic? Fear? Whatever it was caused a chill to crawl down Autumn’s spine. A part of her mind decided that she didn’t want to hear it after all, but it was a small voice and easily suppressed. This was Winter, one of her best friends. If she couldn’t do it for her, what good was she to anyone?
As if breaking out of a fog, Winter began to move with jerky movements. Instead of speaking, she reached for her laptop and began jabbing at the keyboard, waking it up. Within moments, she’d logged in and was turning it to face Autumn more fully.
Autumn studied the screen. There was an image of a young man looking back at her, though he was cloaked in an eerie darkness.
He was in shadow, his features obscured, but the resemblance to Winter was uncanny. Autumn looked between the monitor and her friend and found her hand reaching up to cover her mouth.
“Oh my god.”
When those were the only three words she could formulate, she turned to Winter, struggling to find something more helpful to say. She settled on a question when she couldn’t figure out whether this was a moment of celebration, commiseration, or something else entirely.
“Is this…?”
Winter nodded. “Justin. Jaime. My brother.” Without another word, Winter leaned forward over the laptop and hit PLAY, keeping the screen firmly facing Autumn so that she’d get the full effect.
Autumn sat back and watched the video from start to finish without commenting. Winter shifted so that she could watch with her, silent and morose. When it began again and Winter stopped the playback, they sat in silence for long moments.
“I have to ask,” Autumn said slowly, trying to gather her thoughts, “did you show this to Max yet?”
Winter shook her head. “No.” The single word came out as a hoarse whisper.
“Are…you going to?” Autumn took a cautious sip of her tea and set the cup down again when she discovered it was still too hot. She shifted to straighten her skirt, suddenly uncomfortable as the conflict unfolded on her friend’s face.
“Of course. I mean, I have to. This is…” Her hand waved in the direction of the laptop, but the words escaped her. In the end, Winter simply stared at the image on the screen.
“It’s evidence,” Autumn prompted.
Winter’s reply came so long after, Autumn had begun to think she wasn’t listening. “He called Kilroy ‘Grandpa’ and ‘brother’ and ‘friend.’” Winter swallowed hard, as though the words choked her. They probably did. “I know it’s evidence. He makes it sound like Kilroy did him a favor by taking him in after he…after he killed our parents.”
“What did he mean about you not being his sister?”
Winter shrugged, her gaze finally breaking free of Justin’s face. “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “That…that monster must have made all kinds of things up. Used lies to sever the ties between us. It seems like the sick sort of thing he would do. He probably made the whole story up as part of the indoctrination. No, the part that bothers me is the part about Justin wanting to finish what that sick bastard couldn’t.”
“And the survivors of the Riverside Mall…?”
“Are being hunted,” Winter finished for her.
“All the more reason to contact the Bureau.” Maybe Autumn was pushing a little, but Winter seemed to need a little pushing.
“I know that,” Winter snapped. “You don’t think I know that? I called you because I thought
that it was more important to have a friend here who…” Winter clamped her mouth shut and closed her eyes.
“Hey.” Autumn reached tentatively for her friend. She placed her hand on Winter’s forearm and applied a slight pressure. The feelings of helplessness and guilt that flowed into her made her breath catch in her throat, and it took a great deal of effort to continue speaking. “That’s why I’m here. I’m here for you, not for the Bureau or Max or even Noah, as much as I like him. I’m here because a friend asked me to help her.”
She had to let go of Winter’s arm as her head began to swim. It was too painful, too overpowering for her to continue to touch her friend. Autumn reeled at the intensity of the feelings Winter was holding on to.
Winter seemed to understand and folded her arms over her chest. “Thank you. I just get inundated with people telling me how to be professional and how to do my job.”
“And you’re feeling like no one is listening,” Autumn finished for her.
“Well, Noah listens, but he’s torn too. He works in the same place I do, so he can’t exactly take sides. To be honest, I tried to call him first, but he’s off interviewing Kent Strickland.”
“So, Noah is willing to listen, but he’s not able to. I can help you process eve
rything, you know.” Autumn grinned. “That’s kind of what I spent eight years of my life learning to do.” She nodded in the general direction of the laptop. “I can’t imagine what this feels like, and I won’t insult you by trying. But it sounds to me like your brother has a head full of lies and falsehoods.”
“Yeah, implanted by a serial killer who murdered my parents and happens to be the one who kidnapped my little brother.”
“Well, there’s little that can be changed about any of that.” Winter looked up sharply at her. Autumn met her gaze without flinching, asking what she knew needed asking. “The question is, what are you going to do about it now?”
“What I already did,” Winter answered quickly. “Ask for your help. I know that I can’t do this alone.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to do anything at all. Didn’t Max take you off this one?”
“Yeah, I know.” Winter’s hand waved that away like so much smoke, dislodging Autumn’s grip on her arm. “I’m supposed to stay away, I get that, but this came straight to me. I didn’t even know what it was or who was sending the message when I opened it. The video just…” She shook her head.
“Appeared,” Autumn offered.
She twisted to face Autumn fully. “Yes, and they won’t tell me anything. Max promised they would, and I get little tidbits. It’s all bits and pieces but only what they think I should know, and only when they think I should know it. I’m in the dark.”
“From Noah too?”
Winter started to shake her head and shrugged instead. “I don’t know, maybe. He’s not answering his phone, and yes, I know he’s busy, but how much is he going to tell me? If he says that Strickland can’t answer all of his questions, how do I know he asked the right question in the first place?”
“I don’t suppose you do,” Autumn countered. “That’s trust. Noah is good at what he does. So is Bree. You know this. Trust your partner.”