Читать книгу Once Forsaken - Блейк Пирс - Страница 7

It was happening all over again.

The monster named Peterson held April captive somewhere just ahead.

Riley struggled and searched through the dark. Each step seemed slow and cumbersome, but she knew she had to hurry.

With her shotgun slung over her shoulder, Riley stumbled in the dark down a sharp, muddy slope toward a river. Suddenly she saw them. Peterson was standing ankle-deep in the water. Just a few feet from him, April was half submerged in the water, bound by her hands and feet.

Riley reached for her shotgun, but Peterson raised a pistol and pointed it directly at April.

“Don’t even think about it,” Peterson yelled. “One move and it’s over.”

Riley was seized with horror. If she even raised her shotgun, Peterson would kill April before she could fire.

She put the shotgun on the ground.

The terror on her daughter’s face would haunt her forever …

Riley stopped running and bent over, gasping.

It was early morning, and she had gone out for a run. But the horrible memory had stopped her dead in her tracks.

Would she ever forget that terrible moment?

Would she ever stop feeling guilty for putting April in deadly danger?

No, she thought. And that’s as it should be. I must never forget.

She inhaled and exhaled the sharp, cold air until she felt steadier. Then she started walking along the familiar woodland trail. Pale early-morning daylight was filtering through the trees.

This city park trail was close to home and easy to get to. Riley often ran here in the mornings. The exertion was usually good for driving ghosts and demons of past cases from her mind. But today it was having the opposite effect.

All that had happened yesterday—the visit to the Penningtons’, the peek into the garage, and April’s anger at Riley—had brought back floods of ugly memories.

And all because of me, Riley thought, quickening her pace into a jog.

But then she remembered what had happened next in that river.

Peterson’s gun jammed, and Riley shoved a knife between his ribs, only to stagger and fall into the cold water. Wounded, Peterson still managed to hold Riley under.

Then she saw April, wrists and feet still bound, raise the shotgun that Riley had dropped. She heard it crack against Peterson’s head.

But the monster turned and charged April. He shoved her face down in the water.

Her daughter was going to drown.

Riley found a sharp rock.

She lunged at Peterson, smashing it into his head.

He fell, and she leaped on top of him.

She smashed the rock into Peterson’s face over and over again.

The river darkened with blood.

Stirred by the memory, Riley ran faster.

She was proud of her daughter. April had shown courage and resourcefulness on that terrible day. She had been brave in other dangerous situations too.

But now April was angry with Riley.

And Riley couldn’t help but wonder if it was with good reason.

*

Riley felt doubly out of place at Lois Pennington’s church funeral service late that afternoon.

For one thing, she’d seldom gone to church over the years. Her father had been a hardened ex-Marine who never believed in anything or anyone but himself. She’d lived with an aunt and uncle during some of her childhood and teen years, and they’d tried to get her to go to church, but Riley had been too rebellious.

As far as funerals were concerned, Riley simply hated them. She’d seen too much of the brutal reality of death during her two decades in law enforcement, so as far as she was concerned, funerals were simply phony. They always made death seem so clean and peaceful.

The whole thing is misleading, she kept thinking. This girl had died violently, whether at her own hands or someone else’s.

But April had insisted on coming, and Riley couldn’t let her face this by herself. Which seemed ironic, because at the moment it was Riley who felt alone. She was sitting next to the aisle in the back row of the crowded sanctuary. April was up near the front, sitting in the row right behind the family, as close to Tiffany as she could get. But Riley was glad that April was near her friend, and she didn’t mind sitting by herself.

Sunshine brightened the stained glass windows, and the casket at the front was layered with flowers and several large wreaths. The service was dignified and the choir sang well.

The preacher was droning on now about faith and salvation, assuring everybody that Lois was now in a better place. Riley wasn’t paying attention to his words. She was looking around for telltale clues as to why Lois Pennington had died.

Yesterday she had noticed how Lois’s parents sat slightly apart on their couch, not quite touching. She hadn’t been sure how to read their body language. But now Lester Pennington’s arm was around Eunice’s shoulder in a warm gesture of comfort. The two of them seemed to be perfectly ordinary grieving parents.

If there was anything seriously amiss about the Penningtons as a family, Riley couldn’t see it.

And oddly enough, that made Riley feel distinctly uneasy.

She considered herself a keen observer of human nature. If Lois had really committed suicide, her family life had most likely been troubled. But nothing appeared wrong with them—nothing other than normal grief.

The preacher managed to finish his sermon without once mentioning the supposed cause of Lois’s death.

Then came a series of short, tearful testimonials by friends and relatives. They spoke of grief and happier times, sometimes relating humorous events that evoked sad chuckles from the congregation.

But nothing about suicide, Riley kept thinking.

Something seemed off to her.

Wouldn’t somebody who had been close to Lois want to acknowledge something dark about her final days—a struggle against depression, a battle against inner demons, some unanswered cry for help? Wouldn’t somebody suggest that her tragic death should be a lesson to others to get help and support instead of taking one’s own life?

But no one said anything of the kind.

No one wanted to talk about it.

They seemed to be ashamed or baffled or both.

Perhaps they didn’t even fully believe it.

The testimonials ended, and it came time for viewing the body. Riley stayed seated. She was sure that the mortician had done a skillful job. Whatever was left of poor Lois didn’t look at all like she had looked when she was found hanging in that garage. Riley knew from hard experience what a strangled corpse looked like.

Finally the preacher offered a closing benediction and the casket was carried out. The family walked out together, and everybody else was free to go.

When Riley got outside, she saw Tiffany and April hugging each other tearfully. Then Tiffany saw Riley and hurried toward her.

“Isn’t there anything you can do?” the girl asked in a choked voice.

Shaken, Riley managed to say, “No, I’m sorry.”

Before Tiffany could plead further, her father called out her name. Tiffany’s family was climbing into a black limousine. Tiffany joined them, and the vehicle drove away.

Riley turned back toward April, who refused to look at her.

“I’ll take a bus home,” April said.

April walked away, and Riley didn’t try to stop her. Feeling terrible, she made her way to her car in the church parking lot.

*

Dinner that evening was hardly the cheerful occasion it had been just two days ago. April was still not speaking to Riley, and barely to anybody else. Her sadness was catching. Ryan and Gabriela were somber as well.

In the middle of the meal, Jilly spoke up.

“I made a friend at school today. Her name is Jane. She’s adopted, like me.”

April’s expression brightened.

“Hey, that’s great, Jilly,” April said.

“Yeah. We’ve got a whole lot in common. A lot to talk about.”

Riley’s own spirits lifted slightly. It was good that Jilly was starting to make friends. And Riley knew that April had been worried about Jilly.

The two girls talked a little about Jane. Then everybody fell silent again, as somber as before.

Riley knew that Jilly wanted to break the dark mood, to cheer April up. But the younger girl looked worried now. Riley guessed that she was alarmed by all this tension in her new family. Jilly was surely afraid she could lose what she had so recently found.

I hope she’s not right, Riley thought.

After dinner, the girls went upstairs to their rooms and Gabriela cleaned up the kitchen. Ryan poured a glass of bourbon for Riley and another for himself, and they sat together in the living room.

Neither of them spoke for a little while.

“I’m going upstairs to talk to April,” Ryan finally said.

“Why?” Riley asked.

“She’s being rude. And she’s being disrespectful to you. We shouldn’t let her get away with it.”

Riley sighed.

“She’s not being rude,” she said.

“Well, what would you call it?”

Riley thought for a moment.

“She just really cares,” she said. “She’s worried about her friend Tiffany, and she’s feeling powerless. She’s afraid that something terrible happened to Lois. We should be glad that she’s thinking about others. It’s a sign of growing up.”

They both fell silent again.

“What do you think really happened?” Ryan finally asked. “Do you think Lois committed suicide, or was she murdered?”

Riley shook her head wearily.

“I wish I knew,” she said. “I’ve learned to trust my gut, my instincts. But my instincts aren’t kicking in at all. I just don’t have any feeling about it one way or the other.”

Ryan patted her hand.

“Whatever happened, it’s not your responsibility,” he said.

“You’re right,” Riley said.

Ryan yawned.

“I’m tired,” he said. “I think I’m going to turn in early.”

“I’ll sit down here for a while,” Riley said. “I’m not ready to sleep yet.”

Ryan went upstairs, and Riley poured herself another large drink. The house was quiet, and Riley felt alone and strangely helpless—just as she was sure April was feeling. But after another drink, she started to relax and soon felt drowsy. She kicked off her shoes and stretched out on the couch.

A little while later she woke up to find that somebody had tucked blankets around her. Ryan must have come downstairs to check on her and make sure she was comfortable.

Riley smiled, feeling less alone now. Then she fell asleep again.

*

Riley felt a flash of déjà vu as April hurried toward the Penningtons’ garage.

As she’d done yesterday, Riley called out.

“April, stay away from there!”

This time, April pulled the police tape loose before she opened the door.

Then April disappeared into the garage.

Riley ran after her and went inside.

The garage interior was much bigger and darker than it had been yesterday, like a huge abandoned warehouse.

Riley didn’t see April anywhere.

“April, where are you?” she called out.

April’s voice echoed in the air.

“I’m here, Mom.”

Riley couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from.

She turned slowly around, peering into the seemingly endless darkness.

Finally, an overhead light switched on.

Riley was stunned with horror.

Hanging from a beam was a girl just a couple of years older than April.

She was dead, but her eyes were open, and her gaze was locked on Riley.

And scattered all around the girl, on tables and on the floor, were hundreds of framed pictures showing the girl and her family at different times of her life.

“April!” Riley screamed.

No answer came.

Riley awakened and sat bolt upright on the couch, almost hyperventilating with terror at the nightmare.

It was all she could do to stop herself from yelling at the top of her lungs …

“April!”

But she knew that April was upstairs asleep.

The whole family was asleep—except for her.

Why did I have that dream? she wondered.

It took only a moment for her to know the answer.

She realized that her instincts had kicked in at long last.

She knew that April was right—something was very wrong with Lois’s death.

And it was up to her to do something about it.