First to Die (13 page)

"No matter how hard you try, you can't walk in a straight line." I pulled the sweatshirt over my head a grabbed a button-down for later.

"You're just figuring that out?" He laughed.

"I wasn't talking to you," I said, slipping out of my hiding place and heading down the hall.

***

The side door swung open and Neville popped his head in, checking to see if it was safe to enter. I raised my eyebrows. "Hello," I said and handed him a black coffee. No time for girly drinks, he always reminded me, when you're coordinating and engaging in preemptive strikes. It was no secret that Jason and I were playing the finals in some kind of strange tournament. I’d heard rumors that Stella was running an illegal gaming ring in the back halls of the station and Neville was in on the action. He had the highest bet and his wager was on me. He denied any involvement in the activity, but promised to split the pot with me.

"How was your night?"

Sipping on my girly drink, I said, "Uneventful," confirming that he made the right bet.

"Good." He tapped his cup to mine. "You needed a good rest. Where's your boy?"

"Getting dressed." I jerked my head back and rolled my eyes in the direction of the stairs.

"He's slower than you are."

"Ya think?" We laughed as heavy footsteps marched toward us.

"Everybody ready?" he said, looking like he was the one that was waiting for us.

I was nervous this morning and itching to get out. "Ten minutes ago." Today, the beautiful blue sky brightened my outlook and I wasn't going to wrestle with it.

"I'll meet you down at the river," Jason said, heading out the door. "I wanna grab my boots."

The water was calm today. It wasn't deep or dangerous and swimsuits were the preferred attire. Not more than a couple of feet, but there were some tricky drop-offs scattered around the middle that needed to be avoided. Jason took my hand and led me across while Neville followed. One of them would save me if I slipped into the abyss. We slipped and twisted along green, slimy rocks and made it safely to the other side.

There were several footprints, including Max's. My prints showed the obvious struggle that I had had last night. I saw the crevasses that my knees made when I fought to crawl my way out of the water. Max's prints darted around like a jack rabbit and led into the thick brush. Neville's big boots miraculously flowed along the side, leaving us tracks to follow. There wasn't much talking going on. We listened for barks and whimpers. Neville veered off in another direction while Jason stayed with me. I was losing my voice from yelling her name and had to stop a few times to catch my breath. We listened again. Nothing.

We straddled broken limbs and a few patchy clearings, but the further we walked, the thicker and more difficult the trek became and her prints had disappeared into the landscape long ago. Two hours had passed and we had walked in every possible direction with no sign of her. I was more worried than last night and I could feel the palpitations flutter in my chest. Neville made his way to our location and he headed back, empty-handed. We watched and listened as we hiked back, and I screamed her name like a baby waking up for its morning bottle.

"We'll find her tomorrow. She'll come back." Jason reassured me as best as he could, as we made it back to the first clearing. "If she's out here, we'll find her." I had to believe them.

I swatted at the little black specs that buzzed around my face and stumbled back into a mound of old, dried-out branches and caught myself against a massive Quercus alba. I laughed out loud because I actually remembered the name of our state tree. I didn't remember most of the crap that they taught is at Riverview Elementary, but the White Oak wasn't hard to forget. I spent most of my naive years sitting under the one in my front yard, waiting for my mom to come back.

"Sam, stop," Jason yelled.

He startled me. "Jesus Christ, Jason, what? I froze in place.

"Down next to your right foot." Jason and Neville rushed over to my side.

I looked down and saw a round, silver disk catching a ray of light that was forcing its way through the tiny openings of the trees. I saw the second tag and the then the buckle. I saw the etched red heart that I’d bought for her at the art fair last summer, and I knew. I knew it was hers. My stomach tightened so hard with pain that it took me to my knees. I reached down and picked up her collar in my trembling hands. The black leather was stained with blood. I sat on the ground before I fainted from the instant flood of grief that suffocated me. I couldn't breathe. I bent my knees up into my chest to escape the drowning feeling, but I sunk further down. My voice had left me after a final gasp for air and I felt an emptiness fill the deepest part of my soul. I was quiet. The tears fell, and for the first time in my life I didn't bother to try and stop them.

The rage was building. I could feel it moving through my veins like a malfunctioning tractor-trailer ready to jackknife on Route 16. I was twisting and turning, trying to stop the crash. It was too late for brakes. I was already bent and ready to snap, to crush anything that ended up in my path.

Jason and Neville followed me out of the woods at a safe distance. The gut-wrenching scream that had come from my small frame back at the clearing must have tipped them off to steer clear of me. No words were exchanged. There was no need, and I had no desire for condolences or nervous chatter. My steps doubled. My heart skipped. My mind raced faster than the bullet I was going to put in the bastard that did this. I was pulling in every detail of the past week. Sorting pieces and trying to make them fit. What had I missed? It had to be right in front of me. I had to go back, back before everything went to shit.

Jason's voice echoed from behind. "Sam, slow down." I moved faster and I wasn't wasting my energy with a response. I fled across the river like the back alley pushers on a Friday night. If they caught me, they'd lock me up in their conventional reality. I wanted nothing to do with it.

Chapter 19

I
shook off the morning trauma and walked in the front door of the station. I should have stayed home, but I had to keep myself occupied or I'd lose it. Mrs. Randall was sitting in the waiting area. That alone sent a flag the color of Stella's red nails heading straight for my head.

Stella glared at me and tapped her sharp needles on the counter like she was banging out a message in Morse code. Tap, tap. I glared back at her. The Randalls don't enter a police station unless they’re in handcuffs. Stella was standing behind her sliding glass panels, pointing her finger at me. "This one's for you, kiddo." I heard the muffled words slip through her false sense of security. She cracked the window. "She's been waiting for you." And slammed it shut. She mouthed the word, "Run." Before she ducked behind the wall so I couldn't see her.

"Mrs. Randall, I was going to call you today to set up and appointment. How's Billy?" Stepping closer, I touched her shoulder. Her lips started to quiver as she stood up.

"He's gone." She stood, pulling at the bottom of her silver metallic mini shirt that bunched up around her thighs like a dryer vent. The scent of stale weed and a deep-fryer mixed with Stella's flowers sent an instant pain traveling through my head. I ran my hand behind my hair and rubbed at the knot that was starting to throb in my neck. I wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse, but I had a nose like a bloodhound. I could pick up the scent of just about anything, and it would stick with me for days. I was screwed.

"What do you mean, he's gone?" The only thing gone was his brain cells. It wasn't unusual for him to walk out the door and show up a few days later. Horizontal, on somebody's lawn.

"Hasn't been home since Friday night," she said, pausing and shifting a few inches backwards. Enough for me to notice that she was afraid that her next words would alter my current disposition. "Said he was scared." Her face turned a blotchy red to match her bloodshot eyes. "I told him that we'd be okay, like always." The tears washed the dirty street off her pale skin and I saw a beautiful face. A mother’s loving face.

"Everything will be okay." I was becoming a compulsive liar. I had no idea what she was talking about, and no idea what he saw or did, thanks to Ward clearing him out of there faster than a short order cook.

"Did he say anything else?" I asked, hoping that she would detail the entire conversation. "Anything about the house, or Ms. Edwards?"

"No, only what I told you." She looked frightened as she chewed at her bottom lip.

"I'm sorry that I didn't get a chance to talk to him. I know that he was upset and needed some time to process what happened."

"He likes you. I thought maybe he came looking for you." I saw a tiny sparkle in her emerald eyes. "I know you treat him right." She looked down to hide her eyes and a new well of tears sprung up.

"Try not to worry." I was, but she didn't need to know it. "He'll be back." I covered my concern with a big smile. "I'll get it in the system this morning."

"Thank you, Miss Kelly," she said, rubbing her hands together. "I hope that I didn't cause you no problem."

"No, no, not at all. It's fine." It was a good thing that Ward was not in the vicinity because I would be choking the shit out of him right now.

"Please don't tell Bill that I was here." She covered her face again.

"I won't." I’d expected to get that request earlier in the conversation. She was afraid of him. Bill Randall was a rattlesnake on steroids. I'd had my share of threats from him and learned never to turn my back. Chief Hayes was the only one that could keep the crazed viper under control.

She walked toward the front door. "Mrs. Randall?" I yelled out and she turned around. "Thank you for coming to see me." I meant it. The Mrs. Randall that I spent most of my time hunting down had walked in here and redeemed herself.

I headed to my office and could already hear the rumor mill humming in my ears, and every few feet a head would pop up and look at me and then pop back down. Word travels fast around here. I rounded the corner to the long hall and passed a set of cubicles. Cole and his cohorts rapidly dispersed like rats heading back to their little cages. "I can hear you," I shouted over the whispers "I can hear every word you say." My ears worked as good as my nose did but I couldn't see a damn thing.

“Sorry about Max.” Cole walked over and rubbed the side of his cheek.

“What the hell happened to your face?” He looked like he had wrestled with a cat.

“I was out in the woods with Neville last night and got myself tangled in a mess.”

“Oh,” I said and looked down. “I’m so sorry.” I rubbed my hands over my eyes.

“Don’t worry about it.” He patted my shoulder. “I’m glad to help.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” I said, and continued down the hall for fear that I might break in half right in front of him. I opened my door and was greeted by a Jason sitting at his desk.

"What are you doing in here?" I should have expected it.

"Waiting for you." He leaned forward, sitting in his chair like Mr. Keller, our high school principal.

"I just want to be alone." I was waiting to be reprimanded and sent home.

"You can't hide." Leaning back in the chair, he pressed the smile from his lips.

"Obviously not." I slumped in the chair across from him and let out a loud sigh.

"I'm sorry about Max," he said, fidgeting around in the chair. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I am." I stared up at the ceiling. I was flipping through the stages of grief like I flip through the morning paper.

"Is there anything I can do?" He eased to a comfortable position in the chair. I wasn't the psycho from the scary forest that was going to bite his head off.

"Find my dog." Denial.

"I won’t stop looking." He was sincere.

"I should have double-checked the lock." Bargaining.

"Sam, it’s not your fault." Rational Response.

"I'm going to kill the mother fucker." Anger, I liked this one.

"Why don't you stay with me for a few days?" I was caught off-guard. He stood up, walked around my desk and rested against the edge beside me. "I don't want you in that house." His happy turned to harsh.

My heart raced. "Why?" Leaning back, I clenched the arms of the chair.

"Do I have to go down the list?" He was right, but I had to be home when Max came back.

"I am not leaving, I'll be fine."

"I have no doubt that you can take care of yourself, but I would feel better if you were with me."

"I know." He was right, again. I had no business staying at the house alone after everything that had happened. "I have to be home." I grabbed his hands and stood up. I pleaded with my eyes. "I can't leave her."

"Then I'll stay at your house."

"No."

"Fine. When Max is back, you're at my house until this is over."

"I promise."

"Good. Don't be surprised if you see me sitting in your driveway."

"Thank you," I stammered. "I appreciate it."

"Anything you need."

"I know."

"How about I bring you dinner?"

"Rain check? I have a lot of things to do."