The Haunting of Secrets (15 page)

“You know, you actually
are
one of the
good guys,” I say with more truth than I care to admit in my
words.

“Just realized that have you?” he teases.
“Catch up Richardson,” he says with a lopsided smile and a wink
before turning around to head toward where Tyler waits for him near
our table. I waste no time running out the door and making a
beeline for his car. I pull out my cell phone to call Dejana as I
peel out of the parking lot at speeds of mock two. I would just
shoot her a short text, but I don’t have a death wish to be wrapped
around a tree. Luckily, Dejana picks up on the second ring.

“Hello?” she asks in her usual upbeat, cheery
voice.

Without as much as a ‘hello,’ I dive straight
into describing the news story, knowing she would understand. “Meet
me at the woods across from the old school, right now. I think I
might have blown it; like epic fail blown it. I’m already on my way
and will be there in ten. Please hurry,” I say before hanging up
the phone, too frazzled to even say goodbye. I grip the steering
wheel and concentrate on the road; but my mind keeps reeling over
what might have been. Ten minutes of replaying every scenario I
have experienced from the killer’s memories, never to know exactly
which one she was forced to endure. I may not know what regret
feels like, but I sure as hell now know what it’s like to
experience torture.

Chapter
Twenty-Four

~ Lesson Learned ~

The killer hides in the obscurity of the
trees across the street, waiting for someone to discover the body.
He rocks back and forth on his heels, barely able to keep still
from the excitement of it all. He wishes for the hundredth time
that it could have been that bitch Aimee beneath his knife, but
when a gift such as the young, sweet Brenda falls into his lap, it
isn’t the time to choosy.

Taking his binoculars from around his neck, he
watches, anticipation bubbling inside of him as an old man stops
beside the place where he dumped the body. He watches the whole
thing unfold like a movie. The old man yanks his dog back, its nose
all bloody from sniffing the body. The old man then goes to
investigate, hoping it’s some dead rodent or animal, only to find
the remains of beautiful Brenda. It isn’t long before the old man
vomits in the bushes.

“Weak bastard,” he thinks. It isn’t long, maybe ten
minutes, until the cops arrive. They may look official, but they
are nothing compared to him. They will find no evidence around or
on the body he dumped. He was very careful. The police walk the
perimeter, trying to determine where the body came from when the
CSI truck pulls up. He spits on the ground. Idiots, all of them. No
matter how many pieces of evidence they collect, none of it will
tie the murder to him. Even the car he used to dump the body was
stolen. He was nice enough to return it earlier tonight, of course.
He can’t wait to see the look on that man’s face when the police
identify his car and come to arrest him for murder!

But, all of this would have been for nothing if she
doesn’t see the fruit of his labor, the one and only person on the
planet that knows his secret. Just thinking of her fills him with
rage like never before. He is so engorged with it that it’s nearly
impossible for him to remain hidden. Every fiber of his body wants
to run and find her, so he can rip her apart slowly, piece by
piece. In an effort to calm himself down, he takes a deep breath
and forces himself to remain still. He reminds himself of the
prize, the end game. He prides himself on being able to delay
gratification and patience is of essence right now. Her day will
come. But first, it is essential that she learn a very important
lesson. She must understand that no one messes with his life and
gets away with it. And he damn well means no one.

Chapter
Twenty-Five

~ Regrets ~

The outline of the charred high school
immediately comes into view when I round the corner of Huff Street.
It’s tucked back in the middle of a huge piece of land, surrounded
by woods on three sides. The park across the street is home to many
kindergartners and some wayward teenagers, thanks to its beach
volleyball courts and a skateboard park decked out with tons of
dips and bends. The construction equipment littering the front of
the school is another constant reminder of the horrors that
occurred within the skeleton of the wreckage. It’s almost as if a
permanent skull and crossbones hover above where the cafeteria used
to be.

I pull into the park across the street,
looking like any other teenager visiting. There is a crowd across
the street to my left, where the possible body of Brenda is being
processed before the coroner takes it away. No one notices as I
slip amongst the trees to get a better look at the whole scene.
Behind me, I hear the roaring of a car and I know that Dejana is
close behind. I see her pull in beside my borrowed car, park, and
get out slowly as if she hasn’t a care in the world. Dressed in a
casual outfit of jeans and simple, white shirt that hugs her
figure, she fits in better than I do with the people at the park.
Our eyes meet in understanding and without words, we turn together
and slowly, but purposefully, make our way to the trees. Once
inside the cloak of obscurity, Dejana pulls out some binoculars.
Damn, she’s good.

We make our way to a tree that can keep us
hidden, yet still gives us a fairly good view of the wooded area on
the other side of the road, which is currently littered with all
kinds of law enforcement agents. I try my best to see what’s going
on across the street, but CSI trucks and police cars obscure my
view. Beside me, Dejana puts the binoculars to her eyes and looks
left to right, trying her best to get a glimpse of the body. It
goes like that for a good five minutes, left, right, then back
again searching. Finally, she gasps and I see her lock in on
something with her magnified eyes. She whimpers; it’s a low,
mournful sound. Without speaking, she hands the binoculars to me
and I finally see what has Dejana so upset. Magnified, I see her
body lying on the cot as the coroner prepares to take the corpse to
the morgue. I recognize the blonde hair instantly, but that isn’t
what gives it away. I know it’s Brenda from the pink nail polish on
her fingertips.

I let the binoculars drop, not even bothering
to watch them as they fall silently onto the leaves that cover the
ground. I’m frozen in shock and grief. Brenda is dead. Murdered by
the same killer that’s stalking me. Thankfully, I do not possess
the memory of Brenda’s death. But the memories of all the other
poor girls this monster has killed, swim in my veins and
unwittingly take root in my mind. From there, it’s a straight shoot
into my haunted soul. I toy with the idea of involving the police
now, but that would only invite a multitude of questions that I
can’t answer. They would never believe I have the ability to see
one’s past and even if they did, they would lock me up and throw
away the key. I was lucky that Dejana believed me in the first
place, luckier still with Leah. I can’t take the chance of losing
my freedom, not when we’re so close to the truth.

I turn to Dejana. “I’ve had enough. It is
time for him to pay. If it is me he wants, then it’s me he’s gonna
get. I can’t have another girl tortured and killed while we chase
our tails,” I exclaim, the anger and purpose evident in my voice.
All Dejana can do is just stare at me, caught between loyalty and
fear. Her eyes dart to the circus across the street and back to me.
I know that she’s thinking it could have just as easily been me on
that stretcher. I fear that I’m losing her, that the stakes have
gotten too high for her to remain in the game. I wish I had a
choice. I have absorbed many memories in my life, but none as vile
as his. I can’t run away knowing that he is alive somewhere in this
world, wreaking havoc on innocent women.

As if sensing my thoughts, Dejana’s face
becomes focused, determined, and dare I say, a bit bad ass. “You’re
right, Aimee. We couldn’t save Brenda, but we can try to catch him
before he gets the other two. Or worse, chooses someone at random
to kill just to taunt us. We have to face it; he knows more about
us than we do about him. I’m willing to try, but you have to
promise me you won’t go against him alone. He knows you know his
secret and he’s obviously threatened by that. An unstable teenager
is one thing; an unstable teenager with a knife is a whole
different ballgame.”

Dejana’s intuitive evaluation of the killer
astounds me. She’s right; he won’t stop until I’m dead. And if I’m
going to survive this ordeal, I’m going to need the help of my
friends. Well, the whopping two friends I have at least. My only
fear is that they might lose their lives as well in the process,
and I can’t let that happen. My curse allows me to see the past,
but not change a damn thing about it. The people I saw were never
real to me since I never let anyone close enough to care about
them. But, that just isn’t the case anymore. The people he’s killed
are faces I’ve passed in the hall, real people I’ve spent two years
avoiding. I’m not able to help the ones I see in his memories, but
I can try to stop the one that did it to them. The trick is trying
to keep those I love safe in the process. Mary was hurt because the
killer wanted me. I can’t let the same thing happen to Dejana or
Leah. This is my burden to bear. If Dejana thinking she’s in this
with me keeps her head on straight, then so be it. She’ll realize
by the end that I have no choice, but to take on this pathetic
excuse for a human being, alone.

“Deal,” I say with finality. “But first, we
have to regroup and form some kind of plan to catch this guy in the
act. And I want to be the bait.”

“Whoa,” Dejana starts, “I never said anything
about you using yourself as bait. And you promised me just two
seconds ago that you wouldn’t do this alone!” she cries.

“And I won’t be alone. You’ll be with me the
whole time. But, I never promised not to use myself as bait. It’s
time, Dejana. If we want to catch him, we have to use a bigger
fish. And I am the biggest fish of all. I’m his end game, I’m sure
of it. He’s just taunting me, enjoying the fear it evokes, but I’m
done with that. I’m done with all of it. The only way to catch him
is to be proactive. We have to play his game, his way.”

Before Dejana has a chance to argue, we both
turn as we hear another person coming through the trees towards us.
We see her red shirt first, the sequins beaming in the small rays
of sunlight visible within the trees. Then her sandy blonde hair
comes into view and we hear a series of colorful cuss words as Leah
stomps towards us as silently as a rhino. She’s dressed to go out
in a short black skirt that goes well with the top she’s wearing
and high heels. Not the best outfit for a clandestine outing in the
woods.

She spots us finally and stomps her way over,
the haunting question written all over her face. Wondering how in
the world she knew where we were, I take one look at Dejana’s face
and have my answer. I see Leah shift her weight back and forth on
her feet, wanting to ask the obvious question, but lacking the
courage to do it.

I face her square on, prepared for drama.
“Brenda’s dead. We saw her body on the stretcher. I screwed up,
Leah. We had our chance and I blew it. I’m sorry,” I mumble,
expecting to be yelled at, but all I get is Leah staring at me. I
decide to continue. “Dejana and I have been talking and we’re ready
to bring the fight to us. I’ll completely understand if you want
out, Leah, but we could really use you. I have a plan to bait him,
but I’ll need your help,” I say, hoping it’s enough to get her
interested, but not so much that it sends her running for the
hills. A determined look creeps into her eyes, and I remember that
she isn’t the type of girl to run.

She seems to contemplate my words for a
minute more before stating, “I’m in, of course. Some people have
already tweeted about the girl they found in the woods tonight; the
fact that she was from our school. And I knew Brenda. She was a
flighty cheerleader, but as sweet as they come. I know you must
have done everything to protect her, Aimee,” Leah states, letting
the words hang in the air between us.

I debate whether or not to tell her the
truth. Finally, I decide that she’s taking as much risk as we are
hunting this killer. She deserves the truth. “It is my fault she’s
dead. We had a plan, but I bailed early after being spotted. After
following her all day, I felt sure that she wasn’t going to be a
victim. I’ll have to live with the regret of my mistake for the
rest of my life. You have every right to be angry with me, but I
hope that doesn’t stop you from helping us. I promise to do
everything I can to make it right. Please believe me,” I plead in
one breath, grabbing her arms with my gloved hands to emphasize my
point. I see the hurt that Leah’s trying to hide and my guilt
intensifies. I wish I could take back every bad thought I had today
about Brenda. I wish I could have just done the job right. But I
can’t change the past, I can only figure out what to do from here.
“I’m going to make this right. Some way, somehow I will make him
pay.”

I see Leah nod in agreement, see her fighting
emotions she can’t even begin to process. I see her inner debate,
wondering if trusting me is a good idea. I wish I knew what to say
to her. In my life of solidarity, I’ve never had to worry about
that.

“Well, regardless of what came before,”
begins Leah, apparently arriving at some forgone conclusion she’s
unwilling to share, “we still have a job to do. And I think I might
have found the key to stopping him. Not a key, so much as a
pattern, actually. There’s one more thing I have to work out, but I
think I’m on to him,” finishes Leah, her stance determined.