Don't Close Your Eyes (Don't Look Series Book 2), page 7
Taryn has made it very clear that the FBI’s constant presence is ruining her time with Esau, who she visited at his uncle and aunt’s house since he couldn’t do his normal Saturday farm chores with a broken arm. There was some moaning about not being able to ride his tractor, which I chose to take literally. Because yuck.
I have to admit, seeing Esau hopped up on painkillers after he got home from the hospital was both guilt-inducing and entertaining. The stupid-wide grin he kept aiming at Taryn was adorable. He kept trying to pull her into his lap, despite an audience made up of Fiona, Dariel, Marisa, Viv, and me. The normally anti-PDA dude was downright handsy. I almost managed not to laugh.
Taryn was so mortified she chased us out and slammed the door.
“Excuse me, I ordered a Dr. Pepper. This is Coke.”
“Oh, sorry.” Blushing, I swap it for the right one and deliver it with a sincere apology.
After a couple of hours, I can completely understand what Viv says when she calls waitressing “organized anarchy”. When the diner is full, which it has been all afternoon, there is no time to stop.
Thankfully, Viv is here to help out whenever I have questions. “Check table three,” she whispers as she buzzes up to the counter.
When I look over at table three, it’s packed. I grin as I greet the new customers.
Fiona crows from between Marisa and Dariel. “Now I have two friend servants at the diner. Excellent.”
“Let’s order a plate of nachos as an appetizer.” Marisa snatches a menu and flips it open. “The only question is, chicken or ground beef? Can we do both?”
I shake my head. I have no idea.
“It says it’s an extra buck,” Dariel flicks his menu, “but I’m game. Nachos sound goooood.” The guy next to him gives him a fist bump.
Taryn smiles nervously when I meet her eyes. Her chin and arm are mostly healed from the hit and run. She’s back to her usual, beautiful self. I barely even notice the scar on her cheek anymore. Hopefully she doesn’t let it bother her either. My head tilts at the empty space beside her. “Where’s Esau? Is everything okay?”
My sister shrugs, avoiding my eyes. Okay… We’ll have to talk about that later.
From the hallway, the manager cycles a hand in a wrap-it-up gesture.
“I’m glad you guys are here. Do you need a minute, or are you ready to order?”
After I put in my friends’ order, Viv comes over. “Why don’t you get them their food and then take your break? I’ll take mine after.”
I glance around the diner. Now seems like a good time for a break. “You got it.”
Winking, she’s off again.
Sliding into the booth beside Taryn, I steal one of her fries and dip it in a deliciously huge amount of ketchup. “Wow, that hits the spot.”
“Get your own,” she says with a laugh. Honestly, the piles of fries they dish out here are so huge she never finishes them. Which is how I know she doesn’t really mind me stealing one or five.
“Try it with some of this.” Fiona pulls a spice shaker out of her purse. Its contents are a green powder mixed with what looks like sesame seeds. “It’s my newest snack-topping obsession. Za’atar. It’s amazing on popcorn, so why not fries?”
“Okay…” Taryn sits still while Fiona sprinkles a little of the green stuff on a few of her fries. She tries one. Nods politely.
Dariel cracks up laughing. “That good huh?”
Fiona elbows him. “It’s delicious.”
“She hates it. Look at her face.”
“No I don’t. It’s good. I like it.” Taryn pops another fry into her mouth, chews like she’s in an eating contest, and swallows. Then she chases it down with a giant gulp of her drink.
Fiona’s eyes narrow. “You guys just don’t appreciate a varied palate. More for me.” She takes Taryn’s tainted fries and plunks them down on her plate, blocking Dariel when he tries to steal one.
“No, no, no. Angel was Buffy’s best boyfriend. Spike was gross.” Marisa’s voice carries through the diner to where I’m standing at the counter, delivering a breakfast platter. From what I can hear, the entire table is in the middle of a heated argument about the classic vampire slayer show.
Esau comes in, stomping his work boots on the mat at the front door. He looks… less than pleased as he sweeps up and pins Taryn with a sharp look.
“Care to explain this?” He holds out his phone with his free hand, his casted arm resting on the table top with a plunk.
“No.” Leaning away from the lit-up screen, Taryn takes a sip of her soda.
“Uh, I have to go to the bathroom.” Marisa bolts out of her seat. Fiona glances at Esau, then follows, tugging Dariel along with her.
Once they’re gone, Esau’s attention shifts to me. Holding the phone up so I can read it, he waits.
“You asked if she wanted to go for a drive tonight, and she said… No? Taryn, you told him you had to clean your room? Seriously?”
“I do need to clean my room.” Her answer couldn’t sound prissier.
“On Saturday night?”
“It’s dirty.” She crosses her arms, clearly hoping to end this conversation.
“You’re avoiding me. Why?” It’s so quiet I’m surprised anyone can hear Esau’s question over the singing of two small kids who are treating the next booth over like their own personal stage.
My sister squirms in her seat, avoiding his eyes. “I-I just. Arguing with you the other day, it got me thinking. If I had just done what you suggested and gone across the street, you wouldn’t have been with me, and you wouldn’t have been hit by a car. Since we started dating, you’ve been held hostage, stabbed, and almost run over. That’s a lot.”
Esau slumps down onto his knees, leaning past me to cup Taryn’s cheek. “I’m fine.”
Taryn stares pointedly at the cast that swallows his entire forearm.
I consider ducking out under the table, but the floor looks like a sticky, disgusting mess. I make myself very interested in the edge of the table where the top meets the plastic trim.
Esau’s nostrils flare. “Taryn. None of that was your fault. Will arguing about it make you feel better?”
“Maybe. But it won’t be the same.” A smile flares across my sister’s face before she smothers it.
Leaning back, Esau runs a hand through his hair. Taking the chance, I scoot out of the booth so he can slide in next to my sister.
“Is it safe to come back yet?” Dariel calls from where the three of them are standing in front of the drinking fountain. Taryn nods, and Fiona, Dariel, Marisa, and I pile back into the booth from the opposite end.
Esau’s eyes skim over them before sliding back to Taryn. “Anyone got a rubber band?”
Fiona takes a hair tie off her wrist and hands it to him. It snaps loudly around his skin. Then he levels a look at Taryn that is not diner appropriate. “You drive me insane. I thought you finally realized you hated me.”
A small squeak escapes Taryn’s mouth before she wraps her arms around her boyfriend. I don’t tell them that her hair is in my orange soda.
“I absolutely do not hate you. Opposite of hate you. Remember that thing we talked about the other day? Maybe you should bring it up later.” Taryn pulls back enough to give Esau a quick peck on the lips.
Viv sighs. She stands right behind them, watching. “Aww, so cute. Audrey, your break’s over. My turn.”
She wiggles past me next to Marisa, leaving the space on the end for Taryn and Esau, who—wait. Where did they go? I don’t want to catch them making out (once was enough), but I do need to ask her to do tonight’s dinner prep. It was my turn, but Justin and I are both here at the diner. Maybe they went down the back hall? Straightening my apron, I head that way.
Nope, no Taryn or Esau. Instead, Justin is at the other end of the dimly-lit corridor past the bathrooms.
He’s pacing. Phone pressed to one ear, muttering. It sounds like he’s arguing with whoever is on the other end.
“What’s up?” I whisper, leaning back against the wall to keep out of the way of his restless shifting.
Justin pauses, listening with a grimace. He hangs up and drops the phone into his sport coat. Turning toward me, he does a thorough examination. The calculated feel of it makes me want to squirm. “Did something happen?”
Justin’s mouth flattens. “I had a disagreement with Agent Biel. Don’t worry about it.”
Oh boy. He’s calling Karen Agent Biel now. That doesn’t sound good. Not good at all. Did something bad happen with their wedding planning? Or worse? “Usually when one of you tells me not to worry, that means I should be worried. What is it?”
He takes a long second to rest a hand against the wall. Taps the shiny red paint with his fingers. “We’ll talk about it later. After your shift, maybe. Karen and I are a team, and if she’s not ready to tell you something, I’m going to respect that. Understand?”
That’s just great. Now I have to wait for hours for more bad news.
Chapter 10
Hours Later
By the time I clock out and Justin drives us home, I feel like I’m about to pop. What was that whispered phone argument about? So many things could have happened today. Maybe another ominous note in the newspaper. Another sighting of the maroon car. Oh no. Another murder? That has to be it. Someone else is dead. I try to stop from thinking because of me, and almost succeed.
Tearing into the old house, I yell up the stairs for Taryn to come down and meet us in the kitchen.
Karen is there, stirring her millionth cup of coffee. She looks up when I rush in, eyes flicking from my face to her partner’s and back. “Where’s the fire?”
I stop right in front of her. “What were the two of you arguing about on the phone earlier?”
Karen shoots a look at Justin over her mug.
He shrugs. “She caught me. Didn’t want to lie to her.”
Outside, it’s completely dark. The days are short and the sun vanishes early. We’re hidden in night’s ebony blanket. Just like Karen and Justin are still keeping Taryn and me in the dark when it comes to news about the newspaper messages, and their investigation into CuteAshleeXOXOXO. All of it. It ends tonight.
“He didn’t tell me anything. He said we’d talk about it later.”
“And we will. Don’t worry about it.” Karen turns away. I can’t help but wonder if it’s to hide the worry I saw flash behind her eyes. My throat tightens.
“You know you’re going to tell us eventually, so just get it over with. What are we supposed to not worry about now?” Taryn puts in from the doorway.
Karen cuts a glance to Justin before sliding her attention to my twin and me. “When I keep information from you, it’s because I think you’re better off not knowing. I’m trying to protect you. Both of you. And this is one of those times.” The finality in her tone bounces off the tile backsplash.
I hate it. I do not want to be kept in the dark anymore.
Taryn looks like she agrees, because she opens her mouth to argue. Karen holds up a hand, the snapping gesture stopping her, barely.
“I get that,” I say, “but we’re almost adults. I want to know. And if you don’t tell me, Noah will, once he finds out. Which he will. He can be really resourceful.” I stand up straighter, mentally thanking Noah for being so nosy sometimes.
Taryn’s hands land on her hips. “Yeah, he’ll tell us if you won’t.”
Justin and Karen look at each other, having a silent conversation. It’s a little intense for a second. Like she’s winning whatever argument they’re having. Justin lifts his chin toward us. Karen relents.
Setting her mug down with a clink, Karen locks eyes with me. “I got a request from John Baugh’s lawyer today. Mr. Baugh has asked to meet with you. My first inclination is that nothing good could come from it, but Justin seems to think it might be beneficial for you. Help you close this chapter and move forward, if you will.”
I’m stunned. Blink a couple of times to give my brain time to absorb what she’s said. Pick up an abandoned glass of water off the counter and glug down some of its contents. “Mr. Baugh wants to talk to me? What about?”
Karen shakes her head. “I have no idea. The request wasn’t specific, just that he would like to see you, if you’d be willing.”
“In the prison. He wants her to go to the prison.” Taryn marches over to stand next to me. Her warm, steady hand brushes mine. “If she gets to go, I want to go too.”
Justin frowns. “The request wasn’t for both of you, just Audrey.”
“That won’t stop me. I make the magic happen, remember?”
“It’s a process, getting approved to visit an inmate. And if Mr. Baugh doesn't want to see you, there’s nothing we can do to make him.” Karen lays it out in a logical, cool voice. It makes sense to me even though I have no idea why Mr. Baugh would want to see me without Taryn. The only thing I can think of is that he wants to apologize, but if that’s true, why wouldn’t he want to see us both? He hurt both of us. Not just me. And Esau and Noah too.
“Has he requested to see anyone else?” Surely he has. That’s the only reason it would make sense.
Karen shakes her head. Takes another drink of her coffee. “Not as far as I know. Audrey, you do not have to go. We can tell him you’re not interested. He can rot where you never have to see him again. I can only imagine what it would be like for you.”
I can’t stop the full-body flinch that goes through me. Until this second, I hadn’t thought about actually seeing Mr. Baugh again. Sitting across from him and listening to him justify why he helped his brother. Even if he does apologize, do I want to hear it?
“See, I knew this was a terrible idea. Next time I tell you to keep it to yourself, will you listen?” Justin nods in answer to his fiancée’s question, shooting me a worried look.
“Good. Nobody sees Mr. Baugh. Good plan.” Taryn takes my hand. “Come on. Let’s go watch something.” She pulls at my arm, but I don’t budge. I’m still processing, thinking it through.
All three of them stare at me in surprise when I speak. “I want to do it. I want to visit Mr. Baugh in prison. Hear what he has to say.”
There is an immediate and intense reaction. Karen starts arguing that it’s a terrible idea. Taryn emphasizes how it’ll traumatize me to visit that place without her as backup. To see that man’s face again. How I’ve been making good progress with healing and how going there will set me back.
Justin is the only one who isn’t yelling. Gently, he puts a hand on Karen’s shoulder. Gives a little squeeze.
I tune out the arguments Taryn’s warnings about how I need her with me if I go through with this. She’s wrong. I can handle this.
Maybe agreeing to see Mr. Baugh will turn out to be a horrendous mistake.
Maybe it won’t.
Either way, it’s something I can work through with my therapist.
I hold up my hands until both my sister and my guardian fall silent. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m going.”
Chapter 11
Day 275, Friday
Photos of all of the murder notes that have been sent to the local newspaper flicker before my eyes. I saved them to my phone. One by one the macabre messages pass over the screen as I attempt to put the pieces together in a way that makes sense. It feels like I’m missing a single piece that will clarify the bigger picture, but I can’t find it. “There has to be a connection, but I can’t figure it out. What is it?”
Noah glances at me from the driver seat before his eyes resume scanning the street ahead. He’s such a cautious driver, especially after the hit and run. The one and only time Noah drove my sister and me somewhere, Taryn teased him for driving like an old person. He was entirely unruffled. “That sounded like a rhetorical question.”
Truthfully? Noah’s unerring respect of the rules of the road are one of my favorite things about him. Well, not just with driving. He’s so good. So careful with the people around him. He makes me feel cared for and safe. Now if only he’d pull over, shut off the car, and profess his undying love. Then we’d be getting somewhere.
A girl can dream.
“Read them to me again?”
Pay attention. I’m gonna show you what bloody havoc I can wreak.
No one understands your disturbed mind the way I do.
You ruined my life. Now I’m going to ruin yours.
Viv’s mom got a new note that was published in the newspaper yesterday. I can’t stop thinking about it.
With the first note, it sounded like a bid for attention. Someone with a twisted mind who saw all of the press the Gemini Killer got and decided they wanted the spotlight. The second and third notes feel more specific. More personal. It’s almost as if the composer is writing to a single person. Someone they hate. The letters used in the latest collage look like they were ripped out instead of cut. Jagged edges pasted at uneven intervals so the letters stagger across the page. Disquiet settles low in my belly when I look at the notes. Rage emanates like steam off the latest one.
Wait.
I read all three of the notes again. Something clicks in my brain.
The first message could have been directed at the press. It makes sense. Pay attention. It feels showy and loud. It definitely got everyone’s attention.
The second note was yanked from my conversations with the Gemini Killer, so that one must be for me. I swallow at the tightness in my throat. The sender read all of those private messages. They’ve seen deeper into my head than just about anyone. I haven’t even let Taryn read the messages, even when she asked. “I want to understand you better,” she’d said. I denied her. We’re making such great progress as sisters, I don’t want to blow it all to hell by letting her see the ugliness in my head.
But the third note. I don’t know. Grief can do all kinds of weird things.
I suck in a breath. What if a surviving family member of one of the GK’s victims is the one who’s trying to hurt Taryn and me? It would make sense. Lots of parents, people’s moms and dads, were murdered by a man with ties to my family. Ties I’m working hard to sever. It’s one of the reasons I’m determined to talk to a reporter at some point.
