by L. T. Vargus
She could already feel the tears bulging in the corners of her eyes. The salty water ready to spill.
She lifted the flashlight. Swept its shine across the room. Slow. Left to right.
Boxes filled in shelves everywhere. Stacked almost to the ceiling.
Spools of some industrial-looking materials huddled in the far-left corner—wire in various gauges and something that looked like heavy outdoor canvas.
The light crept over these things. Flitting up and down to illuminate each detail before moving on to the next.
Charlie squinted as though she were trying to peer through the cardboard, through the steel shelves.
When she’d gotten to about halfway through the room, the light started shaking.
She stopped sweeping the light. Paused her scan of the room. Tried to steady the involuntary movement of her arm.
The muscles fought her. Twitched harder.
And the negative thoughts pounced on the moment of weakness. Clawed at the vulnerability.
Because what if the girl isn’t here?
What if I sweep this light all the way and there is nothing? No one?
Or worse.
What if I’m too late?
She swallowed again. Closed her eyes for a second.
Breathe. Focus.
The breath rolled in and out of her now. Steady.
It was time to find out the truth, for better or worse.
She opened her eyes.
The light held strong now. She guided it the rest of the way.
Shined it right into the face of the girl in the far-right corner.
Kara Dawkins didn’t move. Didn’t blink. She just sat there. Slumped against the wall.
Eyes open wide. Staring at nothing. Glittering where the flashlight’s beam touched them.
Purple bags formed semicircles beneath those eyes. Puffy and dark.
And Charlie could see, too, that her right wrist was held up. Frozen there above her head, dirt crusted around it. Cuffed to a pipe.
Charlie gasped at the sight. Shuffled back a few steps. Out of the doorway. Into the hall.
Her skin crawled when she thought about how similar Kara’s pose looked to Todd’s just now. Some strange symmetry there.
It was all wrong.
And then a dirty hand rose to shield Kara’s eyes from the light. The girl blinked finally. Squinting and scowling. Peering out between her dirty fingers.
Charlie couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
Kara tried to speak. Coughed a little instead. Throat sounding raspy. Harsh. Dry. She tried again. This time her voice came out as a croak.
“Are you… real?”
Charlie’s lips popped, but no words came out.
With greatly delayed reaction, Charlie realized she was shining her light directly in Kara’s eyes. She swung the beam away so it faced a wall away from them.
Charlie took a few steps into the room, her legs utterly numb beneath her. Dead stalks of meat and bone. Holding her up out of habit as much as anything.
The girl opened her eyes. Blinked up at Charlie. Something so tired in her expression. Hopeless even with hope staring her in the face.
And Charlie tried to think of what to say. How to tell Kara she was real. How to tell her that it was over now.
Mind blank. Hollow. Speechless.
And for a second, she stood there in the dark, in the quiet, just beyond arm’s length away from Kara Dawkins. They looked at each other, neither one quite ready to trust reality in this moment, to believe that the other was all the way real.
Finally, Charlie knelt. Took Kara’s free hand in hers. Angled the light between them, pointed it up at the ceiling so they could both see each other again. And she didn’t think about the words anymore. She just let them come out on their own.
“The police will be here soon, OK? Your mom, she’s been looking for you. She hired me to look for you. She’s been worried sick about you, you know? And all your friends, too. Everyone’s been so scared.”
Kara’s face wrinkled as though to cry, but no tears came.
Charlie stroked the girl’s hair. Raked her fingers through the tangles.
In the half-light, Kara looked like a child.
She looked like Allie.
“All the people who love you are going to be so happy to see you, so happy to find that you’re OK. You have no idea how much they love you, how badly they’ve been missing you. No idea.”
They both burst into tears then. The world going into a kind of soft focus for Charlie, as though her mind zoomed out a bit, watched these events from some higher vantage point. Her tears blurred everything, distancing her from the moment some. A kind of mercy, she thought.
And they half-hugged the best they could with Kara still being chained to the wall. The girl pressed herself into Charlie’s side and leaned her head onto her shoulder. Silent sobs shuddered through her body. Little shivers transferred from the girl into Charlie.
Even after they parted, Kara squeezed Charlie’s hand tight. All through Charlie’s phone call to Zoe, the girl clung to her like she thought they might drift apart if she let go.
Chapter Ninety-Two
Police lights spiraled everywhere, the red and blue shining and spinning. Glinting off the snow, off the corrugated steel siding of Todd’s warehouse.
Charlie stood with a blanket over her shoulders, watching the police funnel in and out of the door into the storage building. Some bagged evidence. Others followed with cameras, making sure to document everything. Cameras flashed here and there, bright bursts of white light.
An ambulance had come first and taken Kara away. The paramedics offered to take Charlie along, to get her checked out as well, but she declined. She wanted to stay. To see it through.
Another police cruiser rolled into the lot, pulling up alongside the building. Zoe climbed out a moment later, clad in her deputy’s hat, hands stuffed in her pockets.
“Guess who we just pulled out of Ritter’s trunk, hogtied like a… well, a hog, I guess?”
Charlie squinted. Her brain was too fried to even think about it.
“Will.”
“Oh,” Charlie said, realizing she’d completely lost track of him in all the chaos. “Is he OK?”
“The paramedics are taking him to the hospital. He looks like he went ten rounds with Mike Tyson.”
Charlie went quiet, thinking back to the moment when she had recognized Will in the park. All the dark thoughts that had run through her mind.
“He was pretty shaken up,” Zoe continued. “Confused. Wouldn’t be surprised if he has a concussion. But he was adamant that I tell you that he’s sorry. About the keylogger. It was him that put it on your computer.”
“But why?”
“I guess he figured that, as Gibbs’ attorney, he needed any information about the case that he could get.”
After a few seconds passed, Charlie shrugged and said, “Win at all costs, right? That’s his motto.”
In a certain way, Charlie supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised. And he had won, hadn’t he? With Todd Ritter about to be charged with the crimes, Leroy Gibbs would be set free.
Something bitter rose to the back of Charlie’s throat at that thought. She’d never know the truth about Allie. It could have been Gibbs. It could have been anyone. But now she’d never know.
She swallowed, though, and the bad taste went away. No use in dwelling on something like that. Life was short enough as it was.
“You sure you’re OK?” she asked. “You’ve got quite the goose egg sprouting on your forehead. Not to mention the blood spatter.”
“It’ll wash off,” Charlie said.
From where she was situated, Charlie could see the steel skeleton of the Ferris wheel against the moonlit sky. In a way, it felt like she was keeping an eye on both scenes. Todd had been apprehended at the park without issue, still right where Charlie had left him. According to Zoe, he’d said nothing as they cuffed him and hauled him off. Just stared at the ground
.
And now a different set of police surely gathered evidence and filmed and flashed their cameras among the warped mirrors of the funhouse as well.
A kind of closure seemed to accompany actually being at the scene. Observing while the police sifted through what was left. When they were done, when all the evidence was sorted and logged and bagged and taken away, only then would it feel over—or at least as over as it ever could feel.
For now, the scene still swarmed with life. Crime scene techs worked every inch, inside and out. Scrutinizing. Analyzing. Recording.
And memories flared now and again. Little movies of the night’s events playing in Charlie’s head.
Waking in the car, the pale green light of the dash lighting Todd’s profile.
The flashlight spinning around them in the hall of mirrors. All those reflections of the two shadows becoming one in the strobe effect.
The blood slowly seeping out of the crease in Todd’s forehead where she’d bashed him. Thick red rising up from within.
And finally, the image of Charlie lifting the gun up over her head, her face and chest already spattered with his blood. Seeing herself. Stopping short.
Todd Ritter. Part of her still couldn’t believe it was him.
Charlie had a gut feeling—a possible explanation for the crimes, for Todd’s motive—but she didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, not even in the privacy of her own head. She’d wait and see what he had to say for himself in the ensuing interrogation.
“You know I’m proud of you, don’t you, Charlie?”
It was Allie. Charlie didn’t say anything. Terrified she was imagining it, or that a reply might break the spell.
“You did good. Saved Kara. Brought Todd Ritter to justice. Best anyone could do, I think.”
Charlie’s eyelids fluttered.
“It’s like Uncle Frank says, people need the truth,” Allie said. “You may not be able to undo the worst of what happens in life. But what happened to Amber Spadafore, what happened to me. It leaves a wound on the world.”
Tears came to Charlie’s eyes then, blurring the twirling police lights. Bars of red and blue shone in her eyes. Strange jewels created where the light refracted through the lens of water.
“That’s why we need people like you. Someone to come along to patch things up as best you can, you know? Stop the bleeding. Society needs that to keep functioning. Someone to set things right.”
All of the shapes and colors shifted like a kaleidoscope when Charlie blinked.
“I know it’s not an easy job. And I know it hurts sometimes. Because you can’t bring back the dead.”
She paused.
“But you can still try your best. You can fight for the victims. Stand up and make sure that justice is served. And you did a damn good job of that, I’d say.”
“Thanks,” Charlie said. She wiped at the corner of her eye and sniffed.
“Kicking Will in the balls was a nice touch, too,” Allie said. “I mean, that was hilarious.”
Chapter Ninety-Three
Charlie and Zoe watched the interrogation through two-way glass.
Todd Ritter looked smaller in the orange county jail jumpsuit. There was a blank expression etched into the folds around his eyes as he hunched over the table.
Cuffs bound him at the wrists and ankles with chains looping through both, shackling him to the floor and interrogation table alike.
He sat motionless next to his lawyer. Completely still. He stared at nothing. Eyes piercing empty space. Glossy.
Everyone was waiting for the detective to show up. He was late. Probably wanted to let Todd stew a while. Keep him waiting. Uncomfortable.
“You really did a number on him,” Zoe said, a note of pride in her voice.
“I kind of expected him to look worse, to be honest,” Charlie said.
Gauze held a swatch of bandage to the center of his forehead. Charlie couldn’t see even the faintest hint of blood showing through the white. Probably stitched up under there. Starting to heal already.
The other wounds, those lower on his face, had scabbed over. Dark splotches marring his complexion along his cheekbones and chin. Nothing serious.
Staring at the man she now knew to be responsible for abducting Kara Dawkins and murdering Amber Spadafore, part of Charlie wanted to believe she’d found Allie’s killer as well. But the sheriff’s department had ruled out that possibility—Todd Ritter had been in grad school in Texas at the time of Allie’s murder. Once and for all, she had to admit that this case was in no way linked to her sister’s.
Something stirred finally in the interrogation room, the door swinging open. The murmur of voices in the observation room went quiet.
“Here we go,” Zoe whispered, standing up straighter.
The detective sauntered in. Slapped a manila folder on the table. The edges of some of the photos leaked out of the side. A ploy, Charlie thought. An implied threat, leaving them mostly to the imagination for now.
But Todd would know what they featured. The dead body of his stepdaughter, Amber. Naked. Laid out on the beach.
“Messed up this time, huh, bud?” the detective said, hands on his hips. “Messed up bad.”
He reached for the folder of photos, hand moving quickly, snatching it up. It looked for all the world like he was going to deal them across the table like playing cards. Instead he neatened the stack, concealed the photos in the folder again, and set it down once more.
If Todd even saw the man, he showed no signs of it. He stared at nothing, same as before.
The detective probably wanted to startle Todd some with all of this. Shake him up. Get him emotional and get him talking.
Charlie couldn’t get a read on Todd’s demeanor, though. Was that a smile playing at the corners of his mouth just now? In any case, he bore little resemblance to the wild beast she’d fought a few nights ago.
Todd spoke then. Pulling her out of her thoughts.
“I did it,” he said. “That’s what you want to hear, right? I did it. I killed her.”
His voice sounded clear and strong and utterly emotionless. Vacant. Haunted.
A cold finger smeared itself up Charlie’s spine at the sound. She realized she was trembling and crossed her arms over her chest, obeying some instinct to shield herself.
The lawyer spoke up, tried to advise his client not to talk, but Todd shook his head. “Can’t undo what’s been done. Can’t deny it, either. Shoot, everyone dies at some point, right? Everyone.”
He looked up at the detective for the first time, his expression impossible to read. Was he making a joke with that last line?
The detective, frozen in place for all of this, quickly changed gears. He sat down, his body language shifting from confrontational to relaxed. Then he slid the folder of photos off the table, set it on the chair next to him, where it’d be out of Todd’s line of sight. When he spoke again, his voice was softer than before.
“Let’s, uh, start at the beginning,” he said. “Tell me how all of this started.”
Todd licked his lips, thought a moment. His eyes fell back to the middle distance.
“Amber was… I thought Amber was… coming on to me, I guess you could say. She gave me these looks, you know? Smiles. Rubbed my shoulders sometimes. For these past several years, I loved her as a daughter. Like any normal father would. But these advances, or what I thought were advances… over time, I guess they got under my skin.”
He went quiet there. Eyes flicking around. Thinking. Remembering.
“You should understand, too, that things in my marriage weren’t the best. My wife was… having an affair. A younger man. Maybe that got under my skin, too. In the end, I’m just a man, right? Just a man. A man wants to… express himself… wants to assert himself. Needs to.”
His eyes flicked up to meet the detective’s.
“I don’t say this to make excuses. Just to explain…”
Again he trailed off to silence, eyes moving, searching through m
emories again.
The detective waited a long time before he came in with the gentle prodding.
“So things aren’t going well with your wife. Any guy could understand that. And Amber, not even your real daughter, mind you, it sure seems like she’s interested. Then what happened?”
Todd’s eyes sped up as he talked, flicking back and forth.
“I came home early from work, and it was just Amber there in the house. Sharon had left that morning for her conference. It seemed like the perfect time to make my move. I’d been mulling it over for months, trying to work up the nerve. So I… put my arm around her. Kind of rubbed her shoulder in a way… a way where I thought she’d know what I meant, I guess. And she did.”
His gaze snapped up to stare at the detective again.
“She laughed at me. She ripped away from my touch, and she laughed at me.”
He pounded the table with the heel of his hand. A single violent stroke. Loud. It made everyone in both rooms jump.
Charlie tightened her arms against her chest. Tried to fight off that cold feeling slowly spreading over her.
Todd went on.
“And I guess something in me just… snapped. Rage like I’ve never felt before. I… strangled her. Don’t even remember it very well. The memory is mostly of heat. And a red blur. It’s like I put my hands on her, and she’s dead… just like that.”
He shook his head as he repeated it.
“Just like that.”
When he spoke again, his voice went harder, colder.
“It felt good. Killing her. It’s wrong, but when I first realized what I’d done, I felt… awake. Alive. More alive than I’d ever felt. People couldn’t just walk all over me anymore, you understand? I could control the world around me. Put my hands on it and change it.”
This time the detective didn’t wait to prod. “What happened next?”
“When the first rush passed, I panicked. Went into self-preservation mode. Kind of made up the plan as I went along. Everything was frantic, you know? Rushed and feverish. But I had to cover it up. Had to. So I took her car out. Dumped it.”
“So the footage you gave us from your doorbell cam that showed Amber’s car leaving,” the detective said, seeming to put the pieces together as he spoke. “That was you driving?”