Family Murders: A Thriller (3 page)

"You're a detective, right?" Angela asked.

"I know that's what you asked for on the phone, Mrs. Gray," he said. "I suppose I could be considered a detective. Technically I'm the Assistant Chief, but that's just the title they made up to go with my position." He reached up and scratched his nose. "In a town this small, it used to be just guys in uniform and then the Chief, but a few years ago the population finally got to be big enough for there to be more substantial crimes."

"Substantial crimes. Like what?"

"Oh, nothing you'd consider serious after watching a little TV. We're talking small time robberies, check kiting, the occasional bit of insurance fraud. There's just enough of that sort of thing for it to be a good idea to have someone in charge of keeping an eye on it."

"So supposing you were a detective, you'd be the only detective in town."

"I'd say that's about right, Mrs. Gray."

"Call me Angela."

"Angela. Angela, you understand my problem, right?"

"No, I don't. He was right there." She pointed again. "He was digging holes all over the lawn. He was trespassing."

"Right, trespassing." Cooper raised his eyebrows. "This is a small town, Mrs. Gray."

"Angela."

"Right, Angela. But it's not that small. Do you really think they're going to detail me or anyone else to investigate a case of trespassing?"

"He threatened me in public, in a grocery store. He followed me home. Now he's coming onto my lawn and burying things. Wouldn't you call that something? Harassment?"

Cooper looked thoughtful. "I'd call it bizarre. Say for a second we find this guy and get his side of the story. Say he admits to it all. So what? Yes, sir, I talked to her in the grocery store. Then I drove home, happened to be going the same direction. No, sir, I've never been to the Gray residence. See where I'm going with this?"

"But he did dig up my lawn. He was here, I saw him."

Cooper started ticking things off on his fingers. "Firstly, it'd just be your word against his, even if we can find him. I'm not saying you're lying or even mistaken. But if I'm going to do anything at all, I need evidence." Angela glowered at him for a second, then turned to look out over the punctured lawn.

"Secondly, you said yourself that what you saw was a dark figure wearing similar sunglasses. No face, nothing definite. Is it a coincidence? I agree that it's probably not, but I can't do anything at all without evidence."

"What about cutting the power to the house? That's a hell of lot more than trespassing," she said.

"I had a couple uniforms check that out. It was a tree branch, took out the line. One of 'em even climbed the tree to take a look and the limb snapped right off, it wasn't cut through. It was a hurricane," he said, "or the last bit of one at least."

"What about the thing he buried?"

On the rough wooden table between them was the contents of the plastic bag, the contents of the hole. It was a short silver chain with a small locket attached to it .

"You don't recognize it?" Cooper asked, then picked it up and offered it to her.

"Should I touch it? Should you be touching it?"

Cooper grinned and kept holding the locket out. "Like I said, this is a small town. There's no one here with fingerprinting expertise, and expertise is what it would take to get something off this after the mud and the rain. That sort of thing is harder than it looks." Angela hesitated another second, then took it from him. Her fingers ran up and down the chain.

"No, I've never seen it before. It's for a child about Julie's age, but she doesn't have anything like it."

"Excuse me?" Cooper looked at her strangely.

"My daughter doesn't have anything like it," she repeated.

"May I ask how you know it belonged to a child?"

"I don't know if it belonged to a child, but it was made for one. Do you wear many necklaces, Detective Cooper?"

"Call me Frank. No, I don't."

Angela took the chain from Cooper's outstretched hand. "The chain is too short. Too short by far for an adult. I'd strangle myself just putting it on."

"Have you opened it yet?"

"No. I was waiting for it to dry, but I guess it's dry now," she said.

Angela tried to be as gentle as possible. The locket had a small hasp that she moved to the side, and a locking mechanism underneath that she pressed. The tiny container sprung open. Inside were two pictures, one on each side. The first was a young girl, about Julie's age. The second was a young man, maybe high school age, sitting on the top rail of a rough wooden fence and smiling at the camera. The picture quality and the clothes they wore seemed about ten years out of date.

Angela showed the locket to Cooper. He looked at the pictures. "Anyone you recognize?" he asked.

"No. The boy looks a little familiar, but he's also a little generic. It makes me feel old old to say this, but all teenagers look a bit alike to me now."

Cooper grinned again. "Wait until you're my age."

"So what happens now?"

"Nothing. I'll write a report. But there's no one to arrest, and there's not going to be an investigation into a report of trespassing. If you find more evidence, or…" he trailed off.

"Or if something else happens, right? Basically I have to wait for this guy to come back to get you to do anything."

"I'm sorry, Angela, but my hands are tied here. I wish there was more I could do."

"Look, I have to pick up my daughter from soccer practice. Where can I reach you?" she asked. He pulled a card out of his other blazer pocket. The card and the coat were about equally creased, like he didn't give out cards often and this one had been sitting on deck for a while.

"If anything comes up, here's my number. Call." He shook her hand and walked down the steps of the deck and around the side of the house to the front, avoiding holes where he found them.

Angela looked out over the expanse of the yard and considered her position, considered all the questions she had thought this meeting would resolve, now still swirling in her head. She was no closer to finding out who Gabe was, she was no closer to to figuring out why he was interested in her or her family, and she had no idea why someone would dig over a dozen holes just to bury a locket. Beyond simple craziness, of course.

She felt a shiver—whether it was the wind or something in her head she couldn't say—and dragged hard on her cigarette. That was what worried her the most, that he was just crazy. Then there would be no expectations, no way to predict what would happen next. No way to prepare for it.

She tried to remind herself that he hadn't seemed crazy. Real craziness was being terrified for your family, being terrified for your family with no one able to help. Angela had worked long and hard to build the life she wanted. If she had no help protecting it, fine. She would protect it herself.

She wasn't religious, and she didn't read the Bible. She didn't think often about the cosmic mysteries of the universe. But if there was a God, Angela felt sure of one thing: God helps those who help themselves.

5

Even the sky seemed threatening, desperate to unleash violence on the world below. Gray clouds bulged downward, pregnant with the possibility of storms to come. Having been through one hurricane already, Angela had to admit that living in anticipation was worse than living in the rain.

She had listened to the radio while driving to Julie's soccer field, and continued to listen to it while she waited in the parking lot. News of the next hurricane was on every station. Hurricane Klaus one day, now Hurricane Marco due just three days later. It was shaping up to be one of the most active hurricane seasons in recent memory.

Angela shook her head, shook off memories of the most recent storm, shook off the realization she'd had in the car: Ted wouldn't be home before this one was over. She'd called him at the hotel, but he was no longer staying there. It was a common occurrence. His law firm had contracts with lots of hotels in lots of different cities, and Ted would upgrade whenever he got the chance. She probably wouldn't hear from him until he got home. She did some mental math. No husband. No police. One stalker, one incoming hurricane, and only her to deal with the both of them.

As soon as Julie got in the car, that was it—she would be dropped off at school, picked up at school, and at home the rest of the time where Angela could keep an eye on her. Girls in cleats and shin guards began to pour around the edge of the bushes separating the soccer field from the parking lot. After a few minutes, the flow slowed to a trickle. By ones and twos and threes they climbed into the cars and vans surrounding her.

She had parked in her usual spot, right where Julie always found her, but after five or ten minutes it didn't matter. The other cars were all gone. Angela was lost in thought, but her head snapped up when she realized she was the only one left in the parking lot.

One moment she was mentally securing her daughter, already visualizing their reunion; in the next she had a feeling it was already too late. Panic was instantaneous and complete. Without realizing it, she was out the door and sprinting around the corner onto the field itself. The clouds were starting to open up again, dropping rain in her eyes. What would normally take only a fraction of a second dragged on forever. Angela was sure she was gone.

Then she saw her.

Julie. Sitting on the visitor's bleachers on the far side of the field. Julie, alive and whole. Julie, sitting next to someone.

A man.

A man in pink sunglasses.

"Julie!" It was a scream. Angela felt like she was flying across the field, somehow accelerating at her daughter without her feet ever touching the ground.

Julie's head snapped around, her face transforming from a smile into confusion. She stood up and started moving away from him, towards Angela, but slowly. So, so slowly. Angela couldn't take, couldn't wait another second.

"Julie, get away from him!" Julie looked back at the man on the bleachers. "Get away from my daughter!"

Then, she was there. Angela felt a flood of pure, unadulterated relief flood her veins as she pulled Julie to her, squeezing her in her arms, but it left as quickly as it had come. Angela made herself let Julie go, pushed her back behind her body, and narrowed her eyes toward the bleachers.

"Who are you?"

"Look, I think there's been some kind of mistake—"

"I asked you a question. Who are you?"

In response he just reached up and took off the sunglasses. Until then he'd been doing a fair job playing surprised, but his eyes were smiling.

"Who the fuck are you talking to my daughter?"

"Mommy, that's a bad..."

"Quiet." Turning her head to shush her daughter, Angela became painfully aware of just how alone the three of them were. The field was abandoned, and she realized she was trading on pure bravado. "You get away from us. You get away and you stay away."

He put the sunglasses on top of his head and raised both hands in mock surrender. He really was smiling now. "Let me ask you something," he said.

"Julie, I want you to run to the car." She pushed her daughter in the right direction. Julie was unsure, but she starting walking. Then she stopped, turned, and waved.

"'Bye, Gabe!"

"'Bye, Julie." Hearing him say her name out loud was a nearly physical violation, like getting punched in the stomach. But Julie was gone, heading for the car, heading for safety. That was the important thing.

"Can I ask you something, Angela? Is your family important to you?" Gabe asked.

"If I was rude to you, or did something to you, then I'm sorry. But you need to leave me alone. You need to leave my daughter alone."

"I'll take that as a yes. And family is important to me too, Angela. How could it not be? Having something like that in your life, well, there's just no replacement. What would you do without your family?"

"I'm never going to find out. I'll never have to find out."

Up until now Gabe's expression had occupied a kind of crazy medium between smiling and sadness. Now his clear blue eyes, so often hidden behind black plastic, lit up. His hands clenched into fists. "My family was taken from me. So it was done, so it will be done to you. Get ready to feel my pain," he hissed.

She was in tears now, her gut turning over in mad disbelief. None of it made any sense. "Why are you doing this? Why? Why!"

"Because you're part of it. Don't you get it? You're guilty by association, and that's guilty enough for me."

"God damn it," she said, "what are you talking about? I'm not guilty of anything!"

As suddenly as it had come, the fire in Gabe's eyes sputtered and died. His forehead relaxed, his lips tightened, and his arm shot out. He grabbed her above the elbow and squeezed hard enough to make her cry out. Slowly, deliberately, he dragged her forward until they were nose to nose.

"You can serve up all the bullshit you want, Angela, but I've heard this one before. You live in that house, with that family, and you want me to believe you have no idea who I am? That you have no idea what I'm talking about?"

Angela pulled hard but her arm didn't move. She took a deep breath and tried to speak as calmly as she possibly could. "I don't know who you are. I don't know what you're doing here. If I did, maybe I'd understand what you're talking about."

Gabe's grip loosened and he took a half step backwards. His head tilted a few degrees to the left. For just a second, his resolve seemed to waver. Then the corner of his mouth turned up in a sneer.

"Almost had me going there. You're a good actress, Angela. I suppose you'd have to be, to keep up that perfect family front and live with him at the same time. You let him do what he does, you know."

"Let who do what?"

"He's a monster hiding in plain sight. And you're the decoration, you and Julie. You're the distraction. You're what he hides behind. Without you...," Gabe trailed off for a second. "Without you, he could never have lasted this long."

Angela looked around and confirmed they were alone on the quickly darkening field, Gabe ranting about someone who had wronged him, and admitted to herself that he might really be crazy.