by Gregg Olsen
Something resembling a smile crossed Savannah’s lips, but it was more a nervous reaction than the result of a pleasant memory. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
Moira leaned closer. She was going in for the kill. “You did. Yes, you did.”
Savannah played with her bangles, moving them nervously up and down her wrists. She wasn’t going to rush, but she was going to talk. Finally, after a few beats, she spoke.
“It has been fourteen years,” she said, her voice quiet. “I’ve never shown this to anyone.”
Savannah got up from the table and indicated for Moira to follow her to her TV, hidden in a barn board cabinet in the living room. She retrieved an old Sony VCR player, layered in dust, from under the console.
“I keep this relic because it is the only way to play the tape,” she said. “It isn’t like I play it all the time, mind you. But I have watched it once or twice a year since I left the university.”
The VCR powered up and Savannah inserted a tape.
“I didn’t know they made tapes that big,” Moira said, reaching for her phone.
“Half-inch. The quality for major productions at the time. Calling someone?”
Moira shook her head no. “Silencing my phone,” she said.
Savannah pushed PLAY.
The video predated HD and it had indeed degraded over the years. Not as bad as those old-timey movies they showed late at night, but there were gaps, scratches and pops. The camera moved back and forth before finally landing on a pair of baby girls dressed in matching blue outfits. Their hair was faint, downy, and blonde. It was lunchtime, or maybe dinner.
“That’s Hayley on the right. Taylor’s on the left,” she said, touching the screen to indicate which girl was sitting in which blue high chair. Savannah was on the video too, looking quite lovely with dark hair and no wrinkles.
“Look at what they are doing,” Savannah said, her eyes fixed on Moira.
“Eating pasta?” Moira leaned closer, but she still didn’t see what could possibly be the big deal.
Savannah pointed to the screen. “See how Taylor is reaching into her sister’s bowl and looking at the camera?”
“Yes, I see it. But I think if I had a twin sister I’d be battling her for more food all the time.” Moira was surprised by her disclosure because it was so very, very true.
“Hang on,” Savannah said. “It was a lot easier to see when I was in the room. I zoomed in. Watch now.”
Someone nudged the camera and it went a little blurry before being refocused.
The girls were eating alphabet pasta in a light tomato sauce. Both were looking at the camera as it panned down to the tray in front of Hayley.
Moira looked up, her eyes wide as she took it all in. “It has to be some kind of trick,” she said.
Savannah turned off the VCR and faced Moira. She was expressionless now. She’d shared something that had traveled from place to place with her wherever she went. It was a tape that she’d watched countless times. It was something she considered both wonderful and frightening.
“It wasn’t and it isn’t,” she said, her eyes landing above the TV.
Moira looked up at several photographs. They were pictures of Savannah when she was younger, maybe the same age Moira was right then—early twenties. The girl next to Savannah was blonde and blue-eyed.
“Is that… ?” she asked.
Tears came to Savannah’s eyes. Just the mention of her sister brought back a stabbing pain.
“My sister, Serena. Yes, that’s her.”
“What… what happened to her?”
Savannah shook her head. She wasn’t going to go there right then. She didn’t think she had to. “You already know, don’t you, Moira?”
Moira stood. She felt the air suck right out of the log house. It seemed to happen so fast. All of a sudden she felt like she was going to faint. But she didn’t. She couldn’t.
“Does anyone know about this?” she asked.
Savannah pushed PLAY on the recorder again and the old machine clunked into action.
“You mean does anyone else know about it?” she asked.
A second or two passed and a fourteen-years-younger Valerie Ryan came into view.
“That’s the mother,” Savannah said. “Valerie Ryan.”
Moira knew that already. She’d seen her at the pizza place in Poulsbo, but she didn’t say so. “I see,” she said.
On the screen, Valerie picked up the plastic pasta bowls and paused, her eyes meeting the camera fleetingly. As she moved the bowls to take them to the kitchen, she dragged Hayley’s across the tray, leaving a red smear and a clump of pasta.
Moira had seen enough. Her heart was pounding. Hard. She started to leave, fumbling for her purse, her car keys.
“I quit the university after it happened,” Savannah said.
Moira knew that the it referred to what happened to Serena, not the message on the tray.
“You won’t write about this, will you?”
“Are you serious? If this is real, this changes everything.”
“I’m not sure what you mean by everything, but, yes, it is real. But you can’t write about it.”
Moira didn’t even answer Savannah as she started for the door. She felt scared and elated at the same time. Her info was true. She hadn’t believed the source at the time, but Savannah Osteen had confirmed it. She was onto something big—bigger and far more dangerous than she really knew.
Chapter Forty-One
Hayley and Colton were sharing a Portobello sandwich—her favorite—at the Port Gamble General Store after school. They’d been talking nonstop about missing Hedda and Taylor’s jealousy over the time they spent together. But mostly about Starla, what was on Katelyn’s computer and who had sent her the messages. Before Katelyn died, they’d have talked about going to a movie in Silverdale, what they were reading, the merits of the Like It size at Cold Stone or the latest lame musical trend.
Important stuff? No. Such topics, however, fueled the kind of conversation that allowed them to be critical, even snarky, about things that weren’t really important to anyone.
All of that changed when Katelyn Berkley was espressoed to death in her bathroom.
When Hayley’s phone buzzed, she reflexively reached for it.
It was a text message. Her eyes widened and she spun her phone around so Colton could read it.
Beth: Jake got fired from Bellevue schools 4 what he did w/a kid. Wz asking abt Starla’s family & heard it from some1 who told some1 else whose dad used 2 work w/him.
“Holy crap!” Colton’s eyes darted back to Hayley’s.
“No kidding,” she said.
Hayley remembered Starla once saying that Jake was a janitor before he became her mother’s personal handyman.
“What did Jake do with a student?” Colton asked.
“I have no idea,” she said.
“Something disgusting, probably. Guy’s a total creep.”
“I’m going to find out what Jake did,” Hayley said. “Google the number for the Bellevue School District.”
Bellevue was a suburb east of Seattle that was known for its gargantuan mall and an endless stream of luxury cars. It was also Jake’s home before he slithered over to Port Gamble.
“Done,” Colton said, pulling it up on his phone. “But they can’t tell you anything about a fired employee.”
Hayley dialed the number and was quickly routed through to the human resources department. A woman with a chirpy voice who identified herself as Karen took the call.
“My name is Brenda Monson,” Hayley said, turning away from the din of the restaurant and facing the mill through the window. “I’m doing an employment backgrounder on a former district employee.”
“Name?”
“Jake Damon, D-A-M-O-N.”
“Hold on,” Karen said, typing his name into a computer. “Yes, he worked here.”
So far so good.
“Can you tell me the circumstances of his depart
ure?”
“I’m sorry, we’re not able to do so. District policy. What company did you say you were with?”
“I didn’t,” she said, looking out over whitecapped Port Gamble Bay. “Wind over Water. We’re a small company providing educational services to disadvantaged kids in North Kitsap.”
Colton smiled. Disadvantaged kids was a nice touch.
“Pretty over there,” the HR representative said, her voice trailing off a little.
“Are you still there?” Hayley asked.
“I’m not supposed to say anything, but…”
“I won’t tell anyone, Karen. It must be important because you’re hesitating.”
Karen let out a sigh. “I could lose my job, but I’m sick of how our policies protect the worst among us.” She paused before continuing. “His e-file says something about being let go for an inappropriate relationship.”
That was all Hayley needed to hear. She thanked her and ended the call.
“He was fixated on Katelyn,” Hayley said.
Colton had a worried look on his face. “Enough to kill her?” he asked.
Hayley wasn’t sure. “Let’s find out,” she said.
When she got home later, Hayley made a beeline for her sister’s room with the information she and Colton had learned about Jake. Taylor was lying on her bed with a book.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Taylor said, pulling out her iPod Touch’s earbuds with a single yank.
“I am definitely not kidding.”
“How could you?”
Hayley knew that her sister wasn’t referring to the fact that she’d uncovered vital info: that Jake had been run out of his last job. No, it was because she’d uncovered it with Colton.
Taylor didn’t hide her emotions well. She probably couldn’t even if she really tried. “Why are you doing this? Leaving me out?”
Hayley sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m not leaving you out of anything. You’re being way too sensitive here.”
Taylor pushed her sister away. “Great. Now, you’re making me feel like a freak because I’m angry at you. No one can get mad at Hayley. Always so perfect.”
“Don’t talk like that,” Hayley said. “You’re being stupid.”
“Stupid? That’s great. Thanks for that, too.”
“You know what I mean.”
Taylor shook her head. “I’m just sick of Colton and you, that’s all. I’ll get over it. I guess.” She crossed her arms over her chest, holding in the feelings that were making her hurt, mad, embarrassed.
“I’m sorry, Tay.”
“Forget it,” she said. “Forget it for now. Let’s concentrate on Katelyn and who’s responsible for her death. I might be mad at you and Colton right now, but it’s nothing compared to how I feel about that jerk Jake Damon.”
Hayley and Taylor knew they had to do something. They just weren’t sure what or how they should do it. They found their dad in his office in front of his computer. He took off his glasses and swiveled around in his chair to face them.
“I know that look. You two look like you’ve got something to say,” he said.
Of course he knew it. It was the look of any teenage girl (in this case, times two) with something BIG to tell. In that split second before either spoke, Kevin Ryan hoped whatever it was wasn’t that big.
With Hayley looking on, Taylor said, “Dad, we think that Jake was stalking Katelyn.”
Kevin looked confused. “Jake? Mindee’s Jake?”
“Yeah,” Hayley chimed in. “That’s the one.”
The girls sat next to each other on the window seat.
“Stalking? What do you mean by stalking?” he asked.
Hayley, again, took the lead. “He was emailing her.”
“What do you mean?” Kevin asked again, pausing for a moment while he processed what was said. “And just how do you know any of this?”
Neither wanted to tell their father just how they were sure of it. The idea that they were able to draw information from people or even inanimate objects was too much for their dad, a man who saw things as either black or white, true or false, real or not.
“Mrs. Berkley asked us to get into Katelyn’s laptop,” Taylor said. “She was worried that something was up. She didn’t know what. She just had a feeling, Dad, you know… the kind of feeling parents sometimes have when they think their children are in trouble?”
Kevin knew that feeling too. One time when the Ryans had been vacationing in London, the twins were separated from their parents at King’s Cross station. In that moment, he and Valerie both had the agonizing fear that they’d never see their girls again. Of course, the family was eventually reunited, though it was some agonizing eight hours later. Nevertheless, there was no doubt among any of the Ryans that emotions were often more powerful than reason.
Bad things happening are the exception, Kevin always insisted, not the rule.
The girls were relieved. Their dad wasn’t asking too many questions. It seemed like a good time to drop the other bomb.
“Dad, did you know that Jake was a janitor for Bellevue schools?”
“Custodian, I think,” he said. “They like to be called custodians, and yes, I think I’d heard that.”
“Did you know he got fired?” Hayley asked.
Kevin clearly didn’t. “For what?”
“He was fired for having an inappropriate relationship. My guess is with a student.”
“That’s pretty sick, if it’s true.”
“It’s true, all right.”
“How do you know?”
“I called the district and they told me…”
“Wait a second. Even if he had been let go for something like that, why would they tell you?”
“She lied and said she was his new employer,” Taylor said. “But she had no choice. Who knows what Jake might do next?”
Kevin didn’t like the fact that Hayley had lied. He didn’t like that Taylor was acting all worried about Jake attacking other girls. What he did like, and what he could respect a little, was the fact that Hayley had kind of gone undercover with that little ruse. He’d have hugged her right then, but he knew that that was the wrong message.
“We’ll deal with your tricking the school district out of confidential information later,” he said. “Right now, we have to let Chief Garnett know what we know.”
Taylor produced a stack of documents that until that moment Kevin hadn’t even noticed she was carrying.
“Here are some of the emails, Dad,” she said.
He took the papers, his eyes taking in each disgusting word.
“We’ve also got some chats that she saved,” Hayley said.
“I see that,” he said, still immersed in the pages. “How do we know it came from Jake?”
“Colton tracked the IP. All emails came from the Larsens’ place,” Hayley said.
“The guy’s a pig,” Taylor said. “Dad, he pushed her into killing herself. Told her how great she was, beautiful, smart… then dropped her like a hot rock. He told her she was stupid and should do the world a favor and kill herself. Isn’t he guilty of something?”
“He’s guilty of incredibly bad judgment and of being a scumbag, but Internet bullying, harassment, I’m not sure. There are laws on the books in some states, but not all. And most haven’t been tested.”
“What are you going to do?” Taylor asked.
“Only one thing we can do,” Kevin said. “We’ve got to get this to Annie.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Beth Lee texted Hayley and Taylor at the same time with the news that Jake Damon had been picked up by the Port Gamble Police. The twins were watching TV downstairs, not talking to each other. Taylor resented Hayley and Colton for going off on a Jake dirt-finding mission without her. Not cool. And there was no saying when they would forgive each other. One time, they didn’t talk for five days—and that was over a sweater that Hayley had stained with cranberry juice.
Accidentally. Honest. Really!
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Beth: Mom’s dorky friend Nina works there. Says Jake was wanted on an outstndng warrant for dui.
Taylor: Did they arrest him for killing K?
Beth: No. Not yet. Nina says that he’s been questioned about stalkng her, but he denied it.
Hayley: He’s such a liar!
Beth: Yeah, but kind of cute.
Taylor: OMG! U think a sleazy guy like that is cute?
Beth: Don’t blame me. I <3 me a bad boy.
Hayley turned to her sister and they burst out laughing.
“Can you believe her?” Hayley asked.
“No,” Taylor said, her smile fading. “And I’m still kind of mad at you.”
Savannah Osteen crawled onto her couch knowing she had made a very big mistake. She pulled an old poly-filled comforter up to her neck and allowed her tears to tumble.
Whenever she told anyone about her sister’s death, it was like the creation of a fresh wound—a rusty knife into her stomach. Hurt poured out of her. Regret, shame, and guilt too.
Savannah could never let go of her sister and how she’d loved her more than anyone—more than her mother, father, older brothers. When Serena came home from the hospital, it was like getting a real-life baby doll. She was pink. Straight-haired. Perfect. Their mother let Savannah bottle-feed her and bathe her. She was, Savannah believed, her baby too.
Because of her, her baby was gone forever.
To lose Serena as Savannah had and to have missed the opportunity to save her was a tragic event that shaped the rest of her life. She quit the university, got involved in drugs, and went from boyfriend to boyfriend. She’d only come out of the darkness the year before she posted the response on the Kitsap Kalamities website.
Curled up with the comforter, Savannah knew she had made a grave error sharing that videotape with the reporter, but she couldn’t help herself. She had wanted to tell somebody for the longest time. Someone who didn’t know her and wouldn’t judge her.