A woman’s voice barked across the food court. He looked up to see where the commotion was coming from and saw her—a little girl with long blonde hair, no older than eight. Tears streamed down her face as the woman repeatedly took a tone with her in the middle of the store. Observers watched, but no one said a thing. They just pointed and stared, like the little girl was a part of a circus show, and then moved about their business. His fingers bunched together tightly listening to the distasteful words coming out her mouth.
Stupid girl.
No-good little snot.
Those words were familiar to him. His mother used the same on him while trying to drown him in the bathtub. He walked toward the girl and the woman, unsure of what he was about to do. As he got close to the girl, he dropped a necklace on the floor.
He watched as the little girl hunched over to pick it up. “Here you go, sir,” she said, staring at him for a long moment. The girl had the most beautiful blue eyes, and the look of betrayal reflected there turned to warmth as she smiled, trying to hide it under her long hair. She reminded him so much of his sister—the sister who he couldn’t save. Her hand touched his briefly.
“Thank you,” he said, smiling back.
“Don’t you talk to strangers. Do you even have a brain in there? Honestly, Adaline,” said the lady who dressed as if she had won the lottery. She wore fancy jewelry, had perfectly manicured hair, and makeup that showed no flaws—but she was ugly, and he detested her.
“What are you staring at, you brute?”
He turned away and watched as the lady grabbed the little girl’s arm with force.
“Stop it, Momma. You’re hurting me.”
He walked toward them again. “Let her go.”
“Do you know who I am? You can’t stop me. Look at you. You’re a filthy mongrel.” She stopped and glanced at him with pity and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “Go get some clothes and mind your own business.” The woman threw the money at him. “Come along, Adaline.”
The little girl didn’t move. She peered at him with sadness in her eyes. “Can you help me, please,” she said to him in a whisper.
He walked closer to her and bent down to place the necklace in her pocket. “Don’t worry, you’ll be okay,” he said, in her ear. “I won’t let her hurt you anymore.”
The little girl nodded. “Who’s protecting you?”
He stood. “I’m protecting myself.”
“Me, too,” the girl said. “It’s a lot of work when you’re alone, and no one believes you.”
Barking sounded behind him. “I told you to mind your business. I will get the police if you don’t step away from us, you dumb mutt.”
The little girl put her hand in his.
“Adaline, what on earth are you doing? Come to me now, or you know where I’ll put you,” she said, hushed. Her eyes blazed as she moved closer to them, spitting in his face. She held her multiple shopping bags and laughed. “Security. My daughter’s being taken.”
The little girl let go of his hand and ran toward her mother. “I’m sorry,” she mouthed to him as a drop fell from her eye.
He wiped the spit off his face with his hand and dried it on his pants, watching as Adaline left with the woman.
She protected and trusted him when no one else did. That started his mission to protect her, too.
Who did he need to save her from now?
Thirty-Eight
Sam Wendell
Thursday, November 11th
2:00 p.m.
He pulled up to Abbott’s driveway and glanced around at the surrounding neighbors’ homes. No one was outside. Sam had every intention of leaving Abbott out of it, but now he’d seen too much. Fear that things were no longer in his control hung in his gut.
Why couldn’t he have left it alone?
Walking toward the back door, he used the hidden key Abbott left for him under the dog bowl. The guy thought he was hilarious since he didn’t even own a dog. Sam opened the door to a shrine of pictures and newspaper articles all over the floor in the living room. He stepped forward to see Abbott pointing a gun directly at his head.
“I could charge you for breaking into my home,” Abbott said.
Sam took a deep breath. “We’re supposed to meet, remember?”
“Really? Seven hours later. You asshole. Get out of my house.”
“C’mon, man. Don’t be like that.”
“Like what?” Abbott asked. “You lied to my face about not knowing something about my daughter’s case, and then you never show up. I thought you’d be long gone by now.”
Sam stood in place and rolled up his sleeves. “I’m not leaving until we get something straight. Put the gun down.”
“Get the hell out, unless you’re going to tell me what you know about my baby.”
I can’t have him more involved.
“I want to talk to you. There’s just a lot at play here.”
“You don’t think I see that?” He held his phone up to Sam’s face. “Remember her?”
Sam cleared his throat. “Yeah, man. I do. She beat me at chess every time I came over.”
“That’s my girl.”
The room fell silent.
“What’s all this and why aren’t you at work?” Sam asked.
“You don’t get to ask questions. Shut the door and come inside,” Abbott said. “You make a run for it, I’ll shoot.”
He nodded and did as he was instructed.
“Now, where did you get the owl necklace?”
“A friend.”
“Mrs. Rushner, friend?”
Shit.
Sam pushed his hands in his pockets. “Please, drop it.”
Abbott kept the gun on Sam. “You know I can’t do that. You mentioned she got the necklace as a kid. If that’s the case, why do you have the same one?”
He took the necklace out of his pocket and clung to it. “It’s personal.”
Abbott snorted. “Fuck. You bet it’s personal. You’re not done. You didn’t answer my question.”
“She lost this on the day she ran from my marriage proposal.”
Pacing the floor, Abbott kept his eyes on him. “You never gave it to her?”
“No.”
“Then where did she get the necklace she’s wearing?” Abbott asked.
“I’m pretty sure it was left for her on the day her girls were taken.”
Abbott lowered his gun and paused. “There was only one necklace reported that day as evidence. A second necklace was never mentioned.”
Sam didn’t say a word.
Getting too close.
“You know just as well as I do that there’s a connection between the Rushner case and Aspen. Four of the same necklaces. Found at multiple crime scenes. And Adaline Rushner, the woman you’re protecting and still in love with, is behind it all.” Abbott peered at the papers on the floor again, examining them one by one. “Who’s leaving her the necklaces?”
He loosened his collar. “Someone from the past.”
“That’s all you’re going to give me? I’ll ask again. How would my daughter receive the same necklace that those girls and Mrs. Rushner received?” Abbott asked.
“Let this go. It’s nothing to worry about. It’s got to be a coincidence.”
“Shit, Sam. You don’t actually believe that,” Abbott said. “When people you think you know start acting guilty, or doing the reverse psychology on ya, they’re hiding something.”
Sam shuffled his feet. “Buddy, how about you have friends that care and worry about you with all you’ve been through. I think you need to sleep more than a few hours.”
Abbott glanced at Sam sternly. “You’re too close to this, and that’s why you’re not seeing straight. She’s not well and wants people to believe her girls are alive. What better way to do that than leave an object that appears someone’s following her?”
“She’s not like that. You’re reaching.”
“Coming from the guy who’s still holding on to some
thing he can never have. I can’t trust your instincts. I smell a coverup.” Abbott raised the gun at Sam again. “You’re protecting a girl who left you and who will burn you again once she’s done with you.”
Sam clenched his jaw. “Are we done talking about this?”
“You want to play games with me? Let’s play. Remember who Aspen learned chess from?” Abbott asked. “Give me my key and get the hell out of my house.”
“We’re on the same side. That’s what I came here to tell you.” They stared at each other for a moment, then Sam placed the necklace in his pocket and shut the door behind him.
It’s nice knowing you, Abbott.
Thirty-Nine
Dr. Lynchester
3:00 p.m.
Ever since she was ambushed by her client and left that note saying, “Protect Adaline,” Dr. Lynchester tried calling Adaline only to be sent to voicemail each time. It was too risky leaving a message. Having her own people watch Adaline had to be good enough for now. She stretched and paced the room, wiping any sign of dust on her bookshelf with her finger.
“Dr. Lynchester?” asked her assistant on the intercom.
“Yes, Tayla. What is it?”
“There’s someone on the phone for you. They say it’s urgent.”
She looked at her watch. Only five minutes until her next appointment. Most calls never took five minutes when it was urgent, but she had the occasional suicidal client that if you asked to call them back, it would be too late.
“Can you ask who it is, and if it’s not Mr. Meyer, take down their number and tell them I’ll get back to them as soon as I can.”
The intercom clicked off. She fidgeted with her pencils, taking them all out of the cup holder and reorganizing them one by one so they didn’t stand so close together.
“Dr. Lynchester?”
“Yes.”
“It’s not Mr. Meyer.”
“Okay, then would you please take a message?” she asked, rolling her eyes.
“You might want to take this. It’s . . . Adaline Rushner. The woman all over the news.”
“Tayla?”
“Yes.”
“Put her in as my 5:30 appointment today.”
“Got it.”
The intercom clicked off again.
Adaline called me. That could only mean one thing.
Smiling, she pulled her cell phone out to send a text.
“She’s remembering.”
The last time Dr. Lynchester had seen Adaline, she was twenty-five, right after she’d given birth to Leora. That visit, in her mind, should’ve been a great reunion since it’d been six years since she’d bid her farewell, but Adaline greeted her with much distaste. Time hadn’t soothed the wound, and a lot had changed since then. A light knock on the door prompted her feet to move before she even knew what was happening.
“Hello. Come on in.”
“Dr. Lynchester?” Adaline asked, throwing her arms around her neck.
“Dear. How are you?” she said, lightly holding her back. She wasn’t sure what to think but hugged her back anyway.
Adaline stepped back to look at her. “You look the same as I remember.”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s why I’m here. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I need some help.”
“Take a seat on the couch,” Dr. Lynchester said, holding her hand out to direct her.
Adaline took off her shoes, sat in the middle of the couch, and crossed her legs. Dr. Lynchester watched her as she moved. She appeared exactly the same, just older and more tired, but beautiful. Her hair was just as blonde as she remembered, but instead of dangling ringlets down her back, a tightly-pulled-back bun clung to her head. Adaline’s blue eyes struck her with a combo of being divine and haunting. Not a thing had changed in those lost years since she’d last seen her. She grabbed her notebook and a pen and sat in the chair opposite Adaline.
“I see you still like to be in the middle of couches…and you feel at home in my office,” she said, pointing to her shoes.
Adaline shrugged. “I do, but I think I’ve always felt that way with you.” She glanced around the room, wide-eyed. “This office clearly isn’t the same one you had in Owling, but everything is placed in the same order.”
“I’m surprised you remember that so well. I thought over the years you’d forget all about our sessions.”
“I’m sorry I just barged in here without an appointment.”
“I’m glad that you did.” Dr. Lynchester heard that Adaline had lost some memories due to recent events, but she was acting as though nothing had ever happened negatively between them. Could it be a trick? That didn’t seem like her, but Dr. Lynchester also knew what she was capable of when she got mad. Clearing her throat, she bounced her knee. “So…let’s get started, shall we? What brought you here today?”
Adaline paused and stared at the ground. “Okay. I…um…didn’t remember you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Before this morning, I didn’t know who you were, but earlier today I had a flash of a memory. One that I didn’t remember. How is that possible?” Adaline scratched her head and played with her zipper on her jacket.
“Our mind is a curious thing. Some memories we hold in our subconscious and they come out at peak times kind of like a message.”
“That sounds—”
“Crazy?” Dr. Lynchester asked.
Adaline chuckled and then got serious. “We’re all crazy here, I guess.”
Dr. Lynchester watched her face drop as she said the comment. “How does this make you feel, having this memory all of a sudden?”
“At first, confused and scared, but also betrayed.”
“What did you see?”
Adaline pressed her thumbs together and put her head down. “My aunt Arlene. She accused me of being suicidal to get rid of me. She set me up.”
“Do you know why she set you up?”
Adaline closed her eyes and clung to the couch. Her reaction looked strained, but her mouth turned down as if she was in pain.
Dr. Lynchester gripped her pen, knowing the memory that was unfolding in her mind. All she wanted to do was take the pain away.
Adaline flinched.
Dr. Lynchester held the pen tighter.
“I can’t.”
“It’s okay. Take a nice deep breath.” Dr. Lynchester paused. “What’s worrying you the most? Not remembering, or what you saw in your memory?”
She clasped her hands together like she did as a kid. “I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder what’s real, or what’s a figment of my imagination, and that scares me. Maybe I am going crazy like everyone thinks. Do you think I’m crazy?”
“My dear. I don’t think you’re crazy, but you do have some missing pieces that we need to get back for you.”
“Tell me, is this a memory that I lived, or am I making it up? Do I have schizophrenia like the news says? Is that why I saw you for years?”
“Take a moment to clear your head.” Dr. Lynchester moved her chair closer and placed her hand on top of Adaline’s. “What do you feel is real? Think.”
“This is real. My being here.”
“It’s very real. Now close your eyes and think back to the last time we saw each other.”
Adaline closed her eyes and placed her hands in her lap.
Dr. Lynchester let go of her hand and got up to pace the floor. Quietly, she walked around Adaline and leaned near her neck.
“What if I don’t remember that moment?” Adaline asked.
Jumping backward, Dr. Lynchester held her hands behind her back and continued pacing again. “It’s a part of the process, but you need to relax first. Let’s take a few deep breaths.”
Adaline closed her eyes again and her chest moved up and down a few times. Her hands fell to the couch, and her eyelashes started to flutter.
“I can see you’re relaxing. Good. Keep breathing and think of something that makes you happy. Once you’ve got that in
your mind, hold it there.”
Adaline’s mouth tilted upward and her dimples creased.
Dr. Lynchester stopped pacing and bent over the couch again, careful not to lean on Adaline. She hesitated and took a deep breath, but made sure to not make any noise. Inside, her breathing was loud as it thrashed against her chest to get out. Her hand shook, and before she gave herself time to steady it, Dr. Lynchester stuck a shot in Adaline’s neck. She watched as her body went limp. “I told you. I’m here to help you.”
Her eyes grew wide and she mouthed something, but sound didn’t escape her lips.
Dr. Lynchester put a red, satin pillow down on the couch and laid Adaline’s head on it. Placing a fleece blanket over her shoulders, she kissed her on the forehead and pulled her cell phone out of her dress pants. She held it in her hand, deciding what to do, when it vibrated with a call, signaling her to answer it.
“Is she there?”
“She’s here, and I’m keeping her safe for now,” Dr. Lynchester said.
“Make sure that you do.”
Forty
Cache Rushner
Kirkham Trading
5:00 p.m.
Pounding outside his office door took him away from the account he was looking at. It didn’t sound like a knock but like someone kicking it with their boot.
“Come in.”
Naylor Todd, the guy who had the office next to his, came in with a smile that could’ve scared him as a child. It wasn’t forced, but not genuine either. Something hid behind the crooked expression. All he needed was makeup, a wig, and a red nose. He brought in some cardboard boxes and handed Cache a message.
“What’s this man?”
He shrugged his shoulders and walked out.
So much for small talk.
The message was addressed by his boss, Jaxon Millstadt, to come visit him in his office. He threw his pen at the door and gripped his neck.
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