Don't Close Your Eyes (Don't Look Series Book 2), page 22
“You, afraid?” Karen quips, eyeing him over our heads.
“A tiny bit,” he smiles, sheepish.
She smiles back. “You’re such a softy.”
“You love it.”
“Okay, enough flirting please,” I say. “Save it for the wedding, which we still have to finish planning.”
“In less than three months,” Audrey adds. “Wow, that snuck up on us, didn’t it?”
“We’ll get it done. Simple, remember?” Karen says, breaking our huddle.
A woman comes in wearing a grimy, tan raincoat smeared with various fluids I don’t care to identify. “I was told someone has a hand that needs stitches?”
Justin checks the woman’s credentials before allowing the doctor near me. They push two desks together, and I find myself sitting across from Doctor Cassidy while she cleans my cut finger and stitches it to my hand. I stare as she works, unable to look away. Once it’s clean and bandaged, the doctor straightens. “If I leave some antiseptic and bandages, can the two of you handle their other abrasions? There are other patients I need to see.” At Karen’s nod, the doctor hurries out.
Justin helps Audrey and Viv with their cuts and scrapes, while Karen works on the cut on my neck.
“So, how much of town flooded?” I ask.
She purses her lips. “Well, you saw downtown. And the neighborhoods between that and the river are flooded. Plus, Dell’Osso Farms and the properties on that side of town. It’s pretty extensive. But the town’s been rebuilt before. There was a huge flood in the 90s that did a lot of damage, and they got through it. We will this time, too.”
“The farm? Have you heard if the workers and everyone are okay?”
Karen shakes her head. “But I’m sure Esau is fine. He seems like a resilient boy.”
My eyebrows wing upward. “Did you just compliment my boyfriend?”
“I like him. He’s been good for you.”
“Even with the sneaking out?”
Karen studies me a beat before selecting a large, square bandage and placing it on my cut. “Even then. He stuck by you. I can respect that.”
I’m beaming. From someone as buttoned-up as Karen that’s an undeniable stamp of approval. “So, can I go out without a chaperone now?”
“I want to talk to Ms. Miller first, and then I promise we’ll talk about that.”
“Deal.”
All of us take turns washing our hands in the sink in the back of the room, flicking dry because there are no paper towels to be found. Justin knocks his fists together. “Now that everyone’s all patched up, you three head to the cafeteria. I was told they’re serving hot meals. Karen and I need to speak to Anna Miller for a few minutes.”
“No way,” I protest. “If you’re going to interrogate her, I’m coming.”
Audrey agrees. Viv, on the other hand, starts shaking her head, her skin a ghastly white.
Karen gives my friend a sad smile. “Uh, I’ll take you to the cafeteria, okay, Viv? Then the rest of us can go.”
We all agree, shedding our wet coats on a rack by the door.
Chapter 34
Taryn
Anna Miller sits in a student desk, her hands cuffed to the metal pipe that connects the desktop to the base beneath the plastic chair. She’s hunched over, her forehead resting on one arm. The greenish light from the overhead fixture makes her skin pallid and sickly, clashing with the dark, muddy clothing she’s wearing. Behind her, the wall is covered with posters on crop growth cycles and animal husbandry.
One of the deputies walks past the doorway where Audrey and I are standing. I shift my weight from one foot to the other, remembering the last time my twin and I stood in an interrogation room. The day Albert Baugh was killed and Sheriff Lamb questioned his brother, John. Mr. Baugh.
This better be more illuminating.
Justin re-enters, holding out a handful of steaming pizza pockets on a plate. “Anybody hungry? If Deputy Sykes asks, you did not eat these.”
I’m about to say no thanks when my stomach growls.
Justin gives me a look as he nudges the plate against my arm.
I take one, its flaky crust searing my fingertips. “Thanks. Nothing like a gourmet meal after almost dying.”
Audrey takes one, thanking Justin too.
Ms. Miller perks up in her chair, swiveling toward us, her stomach complaining.
Justin offers her a savory pastry, which she eats quietly.
Nibbling on my pastry, I wait. Staring at Ms. Miller. Karen told us she’d normally let the woman sweat for a while before she goes in to question her. Give her time to think about what she wants to say. How much she wants to share. The longer they’re made to wait, the less important they feel. The more they want to talk. It has something to do with a lot of criminals being narcissists, apparently. Making them wait hurts their egos, so they’re more likely to spill to make themselves look important.
Audrey bumps my shoulder with hers. “What’re you thinking?”
I shrug, whispering, “Hoping Karen’s narcissist theory is right.”
“She usually is.”
I hum in response, glad Audrey believed my half-truth. I was thinking about Karen’s theory, but I’m also wondering why Esau isn’t here yet. When I called him after we arrived at the school, he didn’t answer, so I left a message. It was a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it overview of why Audrey and I snuck out, who we’d run into, and our current location at school. And can he come see me ASAP?
A hole opened in my chest when he didn’t pick up, and every minute longer it takes for him to show up makes my worry grow. Leaves me spinning. Doubting he’s coming at all. What if the flooding at the farm was worse than even I can imagine? What if he was hurt? Nate’s body sinking under the turgid water makes me shudder. Esau is fine. He’ll be here.
Thinking back, I acknowledge I’ve put him through a lot. From his broken arm to having to pretend I had died. Lamb assured us it was the best way to lure the bad guy. Make them think they’ve partially succeeded and puff up their confidence. I knew Esau would hate it as soon as they told us the plan, but I went along with it.
Licking my greasy fingers, I toss the empty wrapper in the trash by the door. I want Esau here with me more than anything. With Ms. Miller sitting in handcuffs, this thing that has taken over my life and transformed it into something I don’t recognize, feels almost powerless. Like fate’s monster mounted one last attempt to murder me and failed. But without Esau here? It feels unfinished, like fate could still rise up and slap me.
If I can just see Esau, I believe we’ll be okay. That we’ll arrive in a better place in our relationship after this. My throat tightens when I think about never spending time with him again, just the two of us. If, when this is over, we’re never able to get back to the feisty couple we were before.
Karen enters, wearing her serious FBI agent face. Like a stealthy panther, she circumvents Ms. Miller’s seat and leans a hip against the teacher’s desk, facing her.
Ms. Miller sits up straight, wincing when the binding handcuffs pinch her wrists. “Can you take these off?”
Karen doesn’t move a muscle. Next to Agent Biel’s calm, powerful demeanor, Viv’s mom suddenly looks small. Afraid. I feel bad for her, and I don’t like it.
I whisper to Justin, “Was Viv okay when you left her in the cafeteria?”
He leans closer, whispering back, “The McCallisters were there. She’s with Erin.”
Sighing, I turn back to the front of the room. Viv isn’t alone, wondering how this is going. When I ask, Audrey shoots off a text to let Viv know she can talk to her if she needs.
Karen must decide Ms. Miller is no longer a threat, because she releases her from the cuffs. Viv’s mom drops her hands into her lap, rubbing at the skin around her wrists.
Being a hard-ass, Karen plunks into the teacher’s chair, not saying a word. She’s so cool and collected it looks like she’s got all the time in the world. And why not? She’s got the only villain still standing in custody. The woman’s partner already confessed to sending the notes, which means that Taryn and I are safe. We’re safe. Today, evil lost.
Hell, maybe Karen does have all the time in the world.
Ms. Miller nods when Agent Biel asks if it’s okay to tape their conversation. Pressing a button on a recorder I recognize, she sets it face-up on the desktop. Leans forward, arms folded. “Please state your full name for the record.”
“Anna Marie Miller.”
Karen nods, writing something down on a yellow pad she found on the teacher’s desktop.
Audrey bounces on the balls of her feet, the hot pocket forgotten in her hand. “Ask her. Ask her. Ask her,” she mouths. Yes, she fist pumps when Karen does.
“Is that your birth name?” The eraser on Karen’s pencil taps the pad.
Ms. Miller shakes her head. “I was born with another name, but I haven’t used it in a long time.”
“And that name is?”
Ms. Miller shifts in her chair, glancing back at us as if she can sense our eyes on her. The cold emptiness in her stare cuts to the bone. She’s not looking at me. She’s looking through me. I hold still, resisting the desire to flinch. She can’t hurt me anymore, and she doesn’t deserve even another pinch of my fear.
Audrey curves her fingers around mine, latching us together. Taking a deep breath, I pull my shoulders down.
Karen tries again. “Your birth name?”
Ms. Miller shakes herself, lowering her eyes to the wood-veneered desktop. “Can I have some water?”
“Stop stalling,” Audrey whispers. Glances at Justin. “Think she’ll tell us what happened?”
Justin ushers us out into the hallway so we can talk. “It’s hard to say. Anything can happen in an interrogation. One time this five hundred pound dude, seriously this guy was built like a brick house, accused me of tossing him around, even though there’s no way I could have. Plus, he knew there was a camera recording the entire time.”
Snagging a water bottle from a passing deputy, Justin takes it to Viv’s mom. She drinks it slowly. Lifts her face to Karen. “Thanks. My birth name, it’s Lydia Joyce Freeman.”
“Why would Lydia Freeman come after us instead of going after Robert Baugh directly?” Audrey asks. “I still don’t get it.”
I crack the knuckles on my clammy hands one by one, thinking. “Maybe watching her friends die broke something inside her. Maybe when she saw us with Viv, it flipped a switch or something.”
“That sounds a little far-fetched,” Audrey replies. “What kind of mother tries to kill her daughter’s friends? And anyway, she didn’t go after Erin, or Fiona, or Marisa.”
“You’re the true crime nerd, and I’m not a psychologist.” She dodges my prodding finger, and we focus on the conversation through the doorway.
“You weren’t there. You don’t know what it was like, watching them die. Every day for the past twenty years I’ve tried to forget. I consoled myself with the conviction that they got what they deserved. They had it coming to them for what they did.”
Karen writes on the pad. “Why do you say that? What did Dana, Yvette, and Theresa do to make Maxine kill them?”
Ms. Miller shakes her head. “You’re asking the wrong questions. It wasn’t about what we did to Maxine. It was what they did to me. Their supposed best friend. I needed them, and they weren’t there for me. That’s why they had to die.”
“Maxine killed them because of how they treated you.” It’s a statement designed to provoke an emotional response, but Karen sounds so disinterested. So flat. How does she do that?
Viv’s mom starts to get visibly agitated, running her hands through her clumpy, soggy hair. “No. You don’t understand. Maxine didn’t kill them. I did, but that’s not exactly right. He made me do it. It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t even know where a car’s brake line was. He had to show me. I wouldn’t have done it without his goading. He didn’t think I could do it. So when I saw his name in the paper, I knew I had to. Because it wasn’t really their fault. We were all so young and scared.” The woman gets more choked up as her rambling increases, the story she’s telling making less and less sense.
Karen taps her pencil tip on the desk, reeling Ms. Miller’s attention back to herself. “You said he made you do it. Who are you referring to?”
“Bobby.” She spits out the name, clearly upset. Karen seems to sense that she’s nearing the edge of how far Ms. Miller will let her push, changing topics deftly.
“You said your friends deserved to die, but then you said they didn’t. Can you tell me what you meant?”
Ms. Miller wrings her hands in her lap, squirms in her chair. “I don’t know if I can. I never told anyone, after they died.”
Karen leans forward and waits until the other woman meets her gaze. “You can tell me. I’m trying to help you.”
The clock on the wall tick, tick, ticks. Audrey might be holding her breath, she’s so still.
Ms. Miller sits forward. “My dad was mean. When he got angry, he’d lash out. Hit us. I told my friends about the… abuse, but they convinced me to keep it quiet. They thought if it got out, if everyone in town knew, it’d make him even angrier. They said they were worried. Then I caught them together. I don’t think they were worried about me; they were worried about what the town would think. That’s when I knew: they weren’t my friends anymore.
“My boyfriend, Bobby said they deserved to be punished for leaving me out. He twisted me around, telling me horrible things about my friends, until I thought I had no choice but to kill them. It was his idea to pin it on the town psychic. It was all him, really. I only did what he told me to. Once they were dead, we were going to run away together. We were going to get married. But then he tried to kill me. He took one of those huge butcher knives they used to slaughter their pigs, and tried to slit my throat. That’s when I realized he never loved me. He used me to kill them, and he got away with it. So I ran.” Ms. Miller sniffs as a tear slides down her cheek.
Karen shifts in her seat. “What brought you back to Hacienda?”
“My mom died. I came back to bury her, sell the house. But a few weeks passed, and the bad feelings I always carried about this town didn’t bother me anymore. By then I had changed my name. Had my daughter. No one I grew up with was still around, except for Jack, but he was easy to avoid. So I decided to stay and raise Viv. We were happy for a long time.”
Karen waits for Ms. Miller to fill the wistful silence.
“Then last fall, Viv started telling me about a new friend she’d made at school. Megan. She was really upset when we found out about how Albie and Jack kidnapped those twins. How Albie was a killer. I didn’t believe it. I knew it couldn’t be true. If one of those boys was a serial killer, it had to be Bobby. He’d done it before, and I’d helped him. I thought if I finished this, it would all be over.”
“So you tried to hurt the Thomas girls to get to Bobby?”
Ms. Miller nods sloppily, covering her anguished expression with her hands.
I frown, not believing it. She’s a grade A actress who had everyone fooled, even her own daughter.
The woman’s shoulders quake. Maybe she’s faking it. “Do you believe her?”
Justin’s hand slips off my shoulder. Tipping my chin up so I look at him, his brown eyes warm. “She confessed. A lot of the time, it’s more than we get. Most people don’t take responsibility for their actions even when we have them on video committing the crime. Believe it or not, this is a good thing.”
Karen asks Ms. Miller, otherwise known as Lydia freaking Freeman, for some proof the girls’ deaths twenty years ago were caused by Robert Baugh. She goes into a long-winded explanation about planted evidence and the Baugh boys’ abusive parents.
I turn to Justin, trying to be cool. The two men who tried to kill us are dead. Ms. Miller won’t get another chance to attack Audrey and me, because she’s going to be in jail for a very long time. “I want to go. Can we go?”
Down the hallway, voices rise. Someone is yelling. “Let me back there. I have to see her. Taryn!”
My chest lifts like a hot air balloon. I know that voice. A grin I can’t stop splits my face as I turn toward the commotion. “Let me just—”
“Sit tight. I’ll go get your loverboy.” Justin winks over his shoulder as he leaves.
Butterflies do high kicks in my stomach. Esau came. He’s here. Despite everything. Despite the flood and the pretense and the bickering. He’s here. For me.
“You’re so cute right now,” Audrey sing-songs, batting at my arm.
“Shut up, you.”
She points a finger in a circle over my face. “You’re bright pink.”
“I am no—”
Esau appears at the other end of the corridor, and my words dry up in my throat. His hair is disheveled like he’s been tugging at it with wild, unrestrained fingers. His chest rises and falls on short breaths. The white tee and jeans that hug his frame are painted with streaks of mud. His work boots are crusted with it. He was fighting the flood. He was fighting for his uncle’s farm, and now he’s here. Esau’s entire body relaxes when his eyes find me.
Justin jostles past him to join Karen in the classroom, but Esau doesn’t even flinch. His attention is solely on me. Analyzing from top to bottom and back up.
“Hi.” It comes out more breathy than I thought it would.
Esau’s throat bobs as he swallows. “You’re alive.”
My heart threatens to pound right out of my chest as I take a step toward him. “I’m alive.”
He moves so fast I don’t register it before he tugs me into his chest and holds on so tight I imagine he won’t ever let go. Big, warm, comforting hands spread over my spine. Burying his nose in my hair, he inhales deeply. “This day has been hell without you.”
