The Haunting of Secrets (16 page)

Dejana and I stand there, taken aback by the
sheer brilliance that is Leah. The wind swirls around us rustling
up leaves and humming through trees. It is the only sound we hear
as we stand there in awe, unsure but desperate to trust the hope
that has sprung forth with Leah’s discovery. We’ve been here too
many times; a place where we think we have a chance to stop a
killer and all it leads to is more death.

Leah watches us as we stare at her,
dumbfounded. “Um, hello you two,” she says waving her hand in front
of our faces. “New information? A possible way to stop a horrific
killer? Is it too much to ask for a thank you? I’d even settle for
a high five if you have one, just no more of this staring. It’s
creepy.”

Leah bends over to pick up the forgotten
binoculars and that’s when I see it. A white note, pinned to the
tree behind where we’re monitoring the crime scene. I’d recognize
the handwriting anywhere. I’m the first to snap out of it. I poke
the stupefied Dejana standing next to me. When she looks at me, I
nod my head in the direction of the tree. She moves forward to read
it, but I don’t need to. I already know what it says.

“We have to move,” exclaims Dejana. “Now,”
she adds before leading the way out of the woods and back to the
park where our cars are waiting for us. We are silent as we walk,
looking all around us for any sign of the killer. He could be
watching us right now, from any point since the woods offer all
kinds of places to hide. We finally make it back to our cars, the
people at the park oblivious, never noticing we were even there.
None of us talk. We are all still avidly watching the people as we
pass, aware that any one of them could be the killer. I grab my
phone and shoot a quick text to Dejana and Leah, telling them to
meet at Dejana’s house later tonight to plan. I need to return the
car to Logan and check on Mary at the hospital. I’m not sure when
my life became a soap opera, but when I no longer have a psycho
killer after me, I’ll figure it out. We all get into our cars and
head out, our hearts heavy with grief and worry. As we race to face
the inevitable, the note left on the tree flaps in the wind. The
words on it taunting and dark:

Learn this lesson well. Next time, it will
be you.

Chapter
Twenty-Six

~ A Killer Idea ~

The drive from the park to her house is less
than five minutes, but for Leah, even that time frame is too long.
Her mind is spinning, her thoughts focused on one thing: finding
Brenda’s killer. Before, Leah only halfheartedly helped Dejana and
Aimee, but now she’s fully invested. She had her own agenda: find
the person who set off the bomb that killed her Daniel. Now, she’s
determined to find this killer whose memories Aimee has, before he
kills again. Poor Brenda. If only she had worked harder to help
Dejana and Aimee, Brenda may still be alive.

Second guessing herself is foolish and a
waste of time. Brenda is dead and nothing can change that now.
Keeping this killer from ending someone else’s life, that’s
something Leah can sink her teeth into. She can find anything,
anyone with a digital footprint. All she needs is a computer, an
idea, and an internet connection. Then she becomes deadly. And oh
boy, does she have an idea now.

After what seems like an eternity, Leah
arrives at her small house she shares with her absent parents in
the outskirts of the city. It isn’t much, but it’s a place to
sleep. She hauls her small, red clunker of a car into the driveway
and opens the door, flying out before it’s even at a complete stop.
She runs into the house, turning on the foyer light as she races up
to her room. She’s desperate to get to her laptop, frantic to put
her mind to work on creating the program she came up with at the
park. Something about the obscurity of the trees gave her an idea,
a place to look that none of them had even thought of. If Leah
could create a program with the correct parameters that takes
everything they’ve learned so far into account, then maybe she can
finally track down this horrible killer. Emotions of elation swirl
within her grief, but she pushes them down. This isn’t the time to
feel, this is the time to think like a programmer. She has to focus
if her idea is going to come to fruition.

Out of breath, Leah makes it to her bedroom
and dives onto her bed where she left her laptop. She fires it up,
impatient as she watches the screen start up. Normally, she takes
pleasure in watching the computer spring to life, giving her a
world of endless possibilities, but not today. Her anxiety propels
her forward. Finally, the laptop is ready and Leah sets to work.
The possibility of success is intoxicating. Hopefully, within a few
hours, Leah will have everything the three of them need to nail the
killer’s ass to the wall.

For the first time, Leah knows she can change
things for the good of others. No more selling viruses to end
corporations, or even governments. This is her chance to do right
by Brenda, to help everyone who died at the hand of this killer.
It’s only a matter of time now.

Eventually, she’ll find out who set the bomb;
she’s nothing if not persistent. But for now, she can only do so
much. She’s taking it one killer at a time.

Chapter
Twenty-Seven

~Bleeding Heart ~

It’s late and Logan is sitting in his room
playing
Call of Duty
when he hears the doorbell ring. He
yells down to his mom, “I’ll get it” as he descends the stairs,
curious to see who it is. He opens the door and his breath catches
at the sight before him. Aimee, still dressed in the outfit from
their botched date, stands before him. Her cheeks are flushed and
the dark that surrounds her somehow amplifies the crystal blue of
her eyes. They practically sparkle in the soft light that shines
from behind him in the foyer. Her hands are folded behind her like
usual and her expression is hard to read. He has no idea where she
went, but something in her has changed; of that, he’s sure. She
seems harder somehow, less frightened of life, but not in a good
way. He stands facing her, waiting for her to say why she’s here.
He steals a look behind her and sees his car in the driveway. So,
that’s why she came to his house. He thought, perhaps foolishly,
that maybe she might want to continue their date, but her continued
silence has all but killed that idea. Well, if she wants to play
that game so can he.

“So Richardson, you have a nice joy ride in
my car?” he teases hoping that she opens up a bit about why she
left their date so suddenly. Despite the fact that he gave her his
car, there’s a lingering anger just beneath the surface ready to
take her on. He worked and bided his time these past few years,
trying to get close to her. He really wanted to get to know her
despite the walls she so desperately surrounds herself with to keep
out everyone. Then when he finally got her to sit down and actually
begin the process of getting to know each other, she ran away.
That stings
, he has to admit. Seeing her here now, clearly
in pain, but not wanting comfort or even a simple conversation,
just amplified his sour mood.

“Fine,” he says getting angrier by the
second. “Keep your secrets. But caring about someone means letting
them in to share your life, your worries. One day those demons you
fight are going to catch up with you and I won’t be there to save
you,” he says forebodingly as he moves to shut the door in her
face. However, before he can finish the job, a foot darts out to
stop it.
What now,
he thinks as he opens the door back up,
ready to do battle with the stubborn girl hovering on his doorstep.
She begins in such a soft voice he almost isn’t sure she had said
anything at all. He leans in closer and asks not so gently “What?
Just spit it out.” He doesn’t even miss the irony of repeating that
exact phrase back to her.

Tears well up in her eyes, creating a
reflection that reminds Logan of the sun reflecting off the water.
It makes him think of a peaceful, happy time long before the
bombing. A time before the world became a very complicated place,
where grief and pain can turn a perfectly normal human being into
something dark and sinister. A time before a bomb taught him about
tragedy and loss.

“The world is coming down on me Logan and all
I can do is think about you. After a lifetime of living in the
dark, running from a past that always catches up to me, all I want
to do is put my arms around you and live in the light,” Aimee says,
tears now streaming down her face. “I wish I knew what it felt like
to be in your arms, to feel like I belong, but I don’t and I can’t.
If I let you in, you’ll see the truth and the truth behind my
walls, is ugly. No one deserves to see that. Especially you,” she
finishes, her breath coming in gasps now.

Logan has no idea how to respond. He wants so
badly to hold her, to show her how much he does care, has always
cared, but he knows she would just turn away and right now, he
can’t afford to take that chance. The urge to put his arms around
her, to absorb her pain and mix it with his, is overwhelming. He
puts his hands in his pockets to avoid the temptation. The tears
are almost his undoing. He moves to take one of her hands into his
and is pleasantly surprised when she does the same. He feels the
soft fabric of the glove, the pressure of her fingers as they curl
around his. But the moment doesn’t last long. She releases her hand
from his and drops cold metal between his fingers, his car keys.
Despite his disappointment, it’s in that moment that he sees
exactly how far he has come with her, how much she actually has
opened up to him. Before the bombing, she wouldn’t even let him
within a foot of her personal space. Tonight she offered him her
hand. He knew being with her would be a constant challenge, but he
never seemed to care, never actually had a choice, because his
heart has always been hers.

No longer able to resist, Logan moves to put
his arms around her. He is crushed when she retreats a step, turns,
and starts to run away. He steps out onto the porch to go after
her, to stop her so he can tell her how much she means to him. She
must have sensed him behind her, because she stops and turns.
Logan’s heart is hammering in his chest; only a few steps separate
them now. Aimee fixes her eyes on him; such desperation in them
that she seems to look straight into Logan’s soul. He wishes he
could find something, anything to say that would make her stay, but
he just can’t form the words. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway
since the next thing she says floors him.

“I never thought that you would be the one to
hold my heart Logan,” she says before turning and disappearing into
the night.

* * * *

I run as fast as I can for fear that I will
turn around, tear down the door to Logan’s house, and run straight
into arms. The need for him to touch me is overwhelming,
suffocating. Tears stream down my face, flying in the wind as I
run. I have no particular destination in mind, just one goal, to
get as far away from Logan as possible. Telling him goodbye was the
hardest thing I’ve ever done. Nevertheless, I had to let him know
how I felt about him before the killer catches up with me and it’s
too late.

I stop for a moment and plant my butt on the
curb of an abandoned street corner, exhausted. As I catch my
breath, I try to reconcile what my heart feels with what needs to
be done. The worst part is that I miss him already. The sting of
the goodbye pierces my heart with a thousand needles. I had to give
up the one thing that makes me happy to ensure his safety. My curse
brings nothing, but despair. In saying goodbye to him, I spare him
a life of regret, a life of never knowing what might have been. I
may not be able to see the future, but what I can see is that I was
never meant to love; never meant to share my completely messed up
life with someone as good and honorable as Logan. Despite the
desperation I feel when I’m around him; no good can come from
loving me. I live in the past, never able to see what others so
crave, the possibilities of the unknown. All I see are mistakes
buried in a mountain of regret. No one can change the past, but
everyone can learn from it and grow, use their regrets and guilt to
build a better life for themselves. That’s my hope for Logan, to
survive, to have a chance at a life free of regret and
disappointment. It’s my hope that the happiness so easily eluding
me, blesses him in ways I can’t even imagine. And isn’t that love?
Hoping, wanting, and desiring a better life for someone else?

Before the melancholy completely consumes me,
I get up off the ground and will myself to let Logan go. It takes
all of my strength not to turn around and run back to Logan’s
house, but I manage to repress the overwhelming urge for comfort,
for love. Lost in self-pity, I nearly miss my cell vibrating in my
pocket. I take it out and see that Leah wants us to meet at
Dejana’s house in a half hour to show us all of the information she
had gathered on the killer
.

Finally
, I thought.
The beginning,
of what I hope is the killer’s end
. I wipe my tears away and
run the last few blocks to Dejana’s house. I never see the dark
form that’s been following me since I left Logan’s house. Never
even realize it’s there as the shadow pulls away from the tree ten
yard behind and jogs along with me towards Dejana’s house.

Chapter
Twenty-Eight

~ Checkmate ~

It's almost too easy. Aimee's foolish enough
to walk alone at night, practically a beacon in the darkness,
signaling free reign for those who wish to harm her. And oh, how he
wishes. He watches as she checks her phone before sprinting off. He
follows her, easily tracking her to Dejana’s house. He revels in
his immaculate planning. The fire he set at Aimee’s house was never
meant to kill her. Its sole purpose was to take Mary out of the
equation. For his plan to work, Aimee must be alone in the world, a
runaway, someone that not a soul would miss. Mary surviving the
fire is inconsequential. She must believe Aimee ran away though,
that's the key. Now, all that’s left is to take care of the other
loose ends in her life. That'll be the fun part.