Читать книгу Nancy Bush's Nowhere Bundle: Nowhere to Run, Nowhere to Hide & Nowhere Safe - Nancy Bush - Страница 25

Chapter 17

They drove through the town of Rock Springs around four o’clock, the August sun hot on lawns of bleached grass and two-lane asphalt roads shimmering with heat, giving the illusion they were slick with water. The original clapboard buildings from the late 1800s had been mowed down and replaced along the edge of the small stream that ran behind the buildings. Garrett Hotel had been rebuilt in its original style though the Garretts were long gone and the Danners, the other family so prominent when the town was first getting started, had all but moved away, too.

Liv knew of the local history from placards around parks and street names and varying school pageants that had celebrated the town and its inception. Now she looked out the Jeep’s window, her chest constricted. She hadn’t been back since she was sent to Hathaway House. Albert and Lorinda had moved while she was a patient, and she’d never seen fit to return.

But Patsy and Barkley Owens still lived here. Not all that far from the small house where Deborah Dugan had supposedly taken her own life.

They passed the east end of the town and Liv got a glimpse of Fool’s Falls as it rushed in a froth down a cliff-face into the stream that ran behind the town and meandered on its way to the city of Malone.

It was strange to be here. She felt disembodied. Moving through a place she’d only lived in a dream.

Auggie pulled up to a curb near Patsy and Barkley Owen’s address. “You ready?” he asked as he switched off the engine.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Liv had placed a call to Patsy, saying she’d been given her address by Everett LeBlanc and that she was Deborah Dugan’s daughter. Patsy had sucked in a short gasp of breath, waited five seconds, then choked out an invitation to come by.

So, here they were.

She stepped out of the car and shaded her eyes. There weren’t many trees on this street, but from the looks of the roots and stumps, there once had been. Her T-shirt was sticking to her back and she was glad it was dark blue, so maybe her sweating was less noticeable to others.

Auggie’s T-shirt, dark gray, was also sticking to him. It was growing ever hotter as the day moved on.

Liv searched her feelings and realized that dread was the overriding one. Meeting Everett had taken a lot of energy and now with Patsy, she just felt zapped. Maybe it was an improvement over paranoia and fear, although those emotions were just below the surface along with an abundance of sexual desire. She was awash in emotions after trying for years to forcefully shut them down.

The walkway to the front porch was tidy, the dry grass edged, clipped short, and sporting more brown patches than green. The Owens weren’t wasting water, except maybe on the two window boxes of petunias that flanked the front door and looked a little worse for wear from the beating sun.

Auggie rang the bell and stepped back and a few minutes later a trim, middle-aged woman with brown hair and green eyes opened the door. The cautious, almost bruised look around her eyes was hauntingly like Liv’s own expression; one she’d seen many times in the mirror. Liv looked at Patsy and she stared right back, and only when Auggie said, “May we come in,” did she seem to come to herself and step aside.

“You’re . . . ?” she asked Auggie.

“Olivia’s friend,” was his terse reply.

“Barkley—my husband—is . . . um . . . coming home from work. He does maintenance at the golf course in Malone and usually sticks around on Sunday in case something goes wrong, but . . . he thought I might need him . . .”

Liv drew a deep breath and said, “I’m really sorry to just burst in on you.” Then she handed her the package, explaining about the birth certificate and photos within it. She’d transferred the note from her mother to a pocket of her backpack, deeming it too personal to share with her birth parents.

Patsy seemed glad for the distraction of the birth certificate and photographs. She was apparently finding it as hard to meet Liv’s eyes as it was for Liv to meet hers.

“I don’t know any of them,” she said at length. “Well, other than your adoptive parents. I’ve always known who they were.”

“I’m looking for Dr. Frank Navarone,” Liv added. “I believe he’s the man trying to grab the camera from the picture taker.”

She sifted through the photos until she found the one Liv meant. Frowning down at the picture, she said without lifting her head, “I don’t know him.”

“I was thinking he was maybe from around here. . . .”

“I wish I could help you.” She handed the pictures back, then clasped her hands together so tightly her knuckles showed white. After a moment, she said, “I didn’t want to give you up, y’know? Everett and I were so young, and we were penniless and didn’t know the first thing about building a life. We were kids!”

Liv regarded her helplessly. “It’s fine. I didn’t mean to stir things up.” She wanted to add, It doesn’t matter, but since it clearly did to Patsy, she knew how insensitive that would sound. Even though Deborah had only been Liv’s mother for a few short years, she would be her mother forever. Patsy was a stranger.

“Would you like something to drink?” she said. “I’ve got fresh lemonade.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want to trouble you. . . .”

She was already gone, and while they heard her open the refrigerator Liv looked to Auggie.

In her ear, he said quietly, “I think we’ve hit a dead end. She’s on her own track.”

“I can’t just up and leave,” Liv whispered back.

“Okay. But I sense minefields ahead. . . .”

Patsy returned with a tray holding three glasses of lemonade. Liv and Auggie each took a glass and thanked her. “Sit down,” she invited. “Please.”

Liv took a chair across from the loveseat where Patsy sat after putting the empty tray on the coffee table. Auggie sat on the only other chair, a wooden rocker with a needlework cushion.

“I had serious second thoughts about adoption. I told myself I was doing the right thing, but how do you ever know? After you were born, I went to the adoption agency to . . . I don’t know . . . change things, if I could. I wasn’t thinking straight, and I didn’t have money for a lawyer. There was a young woman at the agency who got the files confused and thought I was the adoptive mother, not the birth mother. She said Deborah Dugan’s name before she realized her error. I pretended not to notice. She hustled me out of there, was probably afraid she’d lose her job and all that, but I just left. I didn’t forget the name, and I . . . well . . . I followed Deborah for a while. I kept tabs on her and your father and you.” She half-smiled. “Everett and I split up soon afterwards, but I always thought I had the Dugans, y’know? Like they were my friends. I could see you from afar, and your little brother?”

“Hague,” Liv said.

“He was so cute. And you were so lively and outspoken. Fierce.” She smiled, remembering.

Liv shifted uncomfortably. Oh, how things had changed.

“Then Deborah . . . died . . . and Albert remarried, and I had to let it all go. It wasn’t healthy for me, either . . . so . . .” She drew a sharp breath. “Then I met Barkley and changed my life. I never really expected to meet you. It’s all so long ago now . . .”

Liv drank the lemonade down. It was cool and tart and puckered her mouth a bit. When silence fell among them, she said, “This is really good,” and Patsy struggled up another smile.

Auggie said, “Can I ask you some questions about that time?”

Patsy didn’t seem to hear for a moment, then she nodded.

“There was a serial killer, a strangler, in the area,” Auggie said.

“Oh, yes. We all locked our doors and windows at night. It went on for a few years.” She drank from her lemonade, her gaze shifting from Auggie, to Liv, then down to her hands. “They were mostly prostitutes from the Portland area. He dumped their bodies in Rock Springs.”

Auggie flicked Liv a look, then asked, “Were any of them from around Rock Springs?”

“I don’t . . . recall . . . You could probably look it up.”

Liv’s feeling of otherworldliness continued. It was hard for her to believe this woman gave birth to her. She’d always expected to feel something more when she met her birth mother, but she just felt off-kilter and eager to escape.

A big, fat, yellow tabby cruised into the room and fixed Liv with its gold eyes. Her dream came back to her. And her conversation with Aaron. She reached a hand toward him and the tom sauntered forward and allowed her to slide a palm down his back.

“He never does that,” Patsy said with mild surprise.

“Fat cat,” Liv whispered to him affectionately and he started to purr.

A few moments of awkward silence ensued, and then Auggie got to his feet and said, “It’s getting late. Thank you for your time.”

“And the lemonade,” Liv said, standing as well. The cat slid back and forth between her legs. She’d never had a pet growing up, hadn’t really thought about them. Now she wanted to pick up the purring beast and bury her face in its fur.

She felt Auggie’s hand at her elbow and amidst some last good-byes, he guided her out to the porch. Squinting up at the sun, she said, “My father always called the doctors who treated Hague and me fat cats. He hated them. I always thought it was a derogatory term until now.”

“That was a nice fat cat,” Auggie observed. “They’re not all that way. I’m a dog guy.”

“Auggie Doggy,” she said, almost by rote.

“Dr. Augdogsen to you.”

She tried to muster up a response, maybe even some of that fierceness Patsy had commented on, but she couldn’t do it. They got back in the Jeep and Liv looked back at the house, hoping to catch another glimpse of the tom, but he was inside, out of the heat, and they drove away from the neat house just as a blue Chevy Blazer pulled up and a middle-aged man climbed out and watched them leave. He was short and balding and a bit paunchy and he lifted his hand in good-bye, looking a bit perplexed. Barkley Owens.

“I’m glad I didn’t have to meet him, too,” Liv said.

“I hear you. You met your biological dad and mom today. That’s more than enough for a decade or two. Family . . .” He shook his head.

“Are your parents still alive?” she asked.

“My father is. Don’t ask me about him. My mother died in an automobile accident a lotta years ago.”

“You have any sisters or brothers?”

He made a face. “Not that I want to talk about.”

Auggie drove through a Burgerville on the way back and Liv bought them each a hamburger and fries, a Coke for him, a Diet Coke for her.

“I’m going to pay you back with interest,” he said as they headed up the freeway to the turnoff to Highway 26—called Sunset Highway at this stretch—and to the Sylvan exit and his home.

“If you want to go to Bean There, Done That and ask about your wallet I can stay in the car,” she said, but the thought of being so close to her apartment sent shivers down her nerves. She wasn’t ready to turn herself in yet. She asked herself, honestly, if she ever would be and didn’t have an answer.

“Nah, but I think we should go see Hague.”

“Now? What about the burgers?”

“We’ll stop at the house. Eat. Then go see your brother, okay?”

“Okay.”

Auggie pulled into the garage a few moments later and gathered the two drinks while Liv grabbed the bag of food and followed him inside. They sat at the table like an old married couple, like they’d been doing it for years, and dug into the food. At least Auggie dug in, Liv forced herself to eat some of everything then sipped at her Diet Coke.

She didn’t want to go see Hague. She wanted to stay right here. With Auggie. Forever. “What’s your last name?” she asked.

He thought a moment, then said, “Rafferty.”

“Auggie Rafferty.”

“August Rafferty,” he corrected her. “I think . . . tomorrow we’re going to have to go to the police.”

“No.”

“Liv, if we don’t find out anything from your brother or—”

“I need more time. Just a little more time. Please. August. . .”

“Nobody calls me that but my family. Auggie’ll work just fine.” He sounded depressed.

“I’m sorry. Let’s go see Hague. And tomorrow we can go to Halo Valley and see if we can find out more about Dr. Navarone. Then we can talk about the police. Not tonight, okay?” She felt desperate. Their time together was coming to an end and she didn’t want that.

“Everything changes tomorrow,” he said, and he sounded so sober that her heart clutched.

“Okay. I—I can . . . okay . . .” She swallowed hard.

“Let’s go talk to Hague,” he said, getting up and tossing the crumpled bag into a trash can by the back door.

She couldn’t decipher his mood as they headed across the river to Hague’s condo. Her anxiety ratcheted up as soon as they drew near; she would have to see Della, most likely, and Hague’s companion was unpredictable. She probably knew that the police were looking for Liv, and was just as likely to turn her in as help her.

Pulling the baseball cap from her backpack, she smashed it on her head and down her forehead so she could scarcely see.

“Put your hand through my arm,” Auggie said once they were parked and on the street. “Lean in. More people will remember you if you’re alone.”

“You know a lot of tricks for a fisherman.”

“Human nature,” he said, and then they were inside the building and pulling back the bar on the elevator. Auggie closed the door and they rattled their way to the third floor.

“Della won’t like this,” Liv warned. “She might even turn me in as soon as we leave.”

“We’re going to the police tomorrow anyway, right?”

“That’s the plan,” Liv said, but the lack of conviction in her voice caused him to put his hands on her shoulders and turn her toward him.

“I mean it, Liv. You’ve been playing a dangerous game with a killer. I’ve been playing it with you. But the best thing we could do is go to the police.”

“After we go to Halo Valley.”

“Just don’t tell me something different after we’ve been there.”

Liv was no proof against those intense blue eyes staring down at her. She twisted away and knocked on the door. He made her heart race. From the fear of taking an irreversible step, like going to the authorities, but also at a more feminine level.

Della answered after a few moments, her own icy blue eyes raking over Liv and landing on Auggie. Her blond hair was pulled back into its ubiquitous bun and her expression was hard to read.

“Liv,” she said after a moment, her voice just short of a sneer. “Did you forget to tell me you were wanted by the police last time you were here?”

“I’m still wanted by the police,” Liv snapped back, “so, go ahead and call them and let’s get it over with. I want to see my brother.”

“Well.” She reared back at Liv’s tone.

“I’m Auggie,” Auggie said, reaching out a hand.

Della took it in hers and seemed to thaw a bit. “Where did she find you?” she said with a lilt.

Oh, brother, Liv thought, seething. She realized maybe there was some fierceness there after all, which helped restore her humor a little. “Auggie’s a friend who’s been helping me on my quest to find out what happened to Mama.”

“Really.” Della stepped back from the door, allowing them entry. The three of them walked to the back toward Hague’s room where he was sitting in his chair, glaring at some loose-leaf pages in his hands.

“Who are you?” he demanded of Auggie.

“Auggie Rafferty.” He started to put out a hand to him as well, but Hague didn’t set down the pages so he dropped his arm.

Hague regarded Auggie suspiciously and rubbed his scruffy beard as if he were comparing himself to him. Auggie had shaved in the morning but was, like Liv, looking a little used up after their long day. Still, compared to Hague, he could have been heading for the board meeting of a major corporation.

“Hague, I need to talk to you,” Liv said.

“I don’t think I want to.” His eyes never left Auggie.

“It’s about the doctor. The one with the rigor smile?”

Hague’s gaze jumped to Liv. “The doctor doesn’t have a rigor smile.”

“You said, ‘They keep their hands in their pockets and wear rigor smiles.’ That’s almost verbatim. And you said we both knew him from when we were kids. Did you mean Dr. Frank Navarone?”

Hague’s eyes slid around in their sockets, as if he were trying to look around the room but couldn’t control the motion. “The zombie,” said Hague.

“The zombie stalker is Dr. Navarone,” Liv said. “That’s right, isn’t it?”

“I can’t talk with him here.” He slapped the papers onto a table by his chair and gestured in Auggie’s direction. Then, in an about-face, he turned to Auggie and said, “I saw you at the Cantina. I saw you.”

“The Cantina?” Auggie repeated.

“You were watching me. Listening. You were with the others. You want to hurt Livvie, don’t you?”

“No,” Auggie said, surprised.

“No, Hague. He’s with me. He wasn’t at the Cantina. Was Dr. Navarone at Grandview when you were there?”

“Out of the sides of my eyes . . . he’s there . . . he’s watching me, but he wants you, Livvie. He wants you.”

She blinked, feeling tense. “Dr. Navarone?”

“He wasn’t my doctor. My doctor was Dr. Tambor. He was Jeff ’s doctor, though, and he was Wart’s, and some other guys. They were all zapped.” Hague gave a huffing laugh, then said in a lower, conspiratorial voice, “It’s the government, you know. He worked for the government. That’s what happens when you work for them. They put receivers inside the folds of your brain. In the creases, where they can’t be found. The mindbenders, they’re at the hospitals. That’s where they are. At Grandview and everywhere.”

“But Dr. Navarone worked at Grandview when you were there,” Liv repeated, seeking to clarify and keep Hague on track.

He suddenly sat up straight, slamming back the flipped-up leg rest and jumping to his feet in one motion.

“Hague,” Della said uncertainly, shooting Liv a look.

He grabbed Liv and dragged her to the other side of the room so fast, she stumbled and had to cling to him for support. “Sister,” he said on a breath near her ear. “RUN!!!!”

His bellow reverberated throughout the rooms and Della’s head whipped back and forth between Hague and Liv, as if she couldn’t decide whom to handle first. She chose Hague, rushing to him and tugging on his arm. “Hague, Hague! Don’t let her upset you!”

Liv was shaking inside. She stared at her brother in horror. Then Auggie was there, on Liv’s other side, watching Hague intently. “Let’s all take a deep breath, here,” he said.

Hague croaked out, “He’s coming,” and then his eyes rolled back and his knees buckled. Auggie caught him and Della slid under one of Hague’s arms. Together they took him back to his chair.

As soon as he was settled, Della whipped around and glared murderously at Liv. “You always do this! It always happens! I don’t want you anywhere near him anymore! I told your father the same thing. He came here to talk to Hague about you. Like Hague knew where you were and would talk you into turning yourself in!”

“Did Hague go into one of his fugue states then, too?” Liv asked, looking down sorrowfully on her brother’s unconscious form.

“Yes! Just the mention of your name and poof! He’s gone.” She threw a glare at Auggie, too. “I’m not going to call the police. I’d never hear the end of it from Hague, if he found out. I don’t know what you’re doing with her, Mr. Rafferty. Maybe you can get through to her. No one else can.”

“Someone is after her,” Auggie stated tersely. “Even Hague feels it.”

“You’re as bad as she is!” Della stalked to the door and held it open. “Don’t come back,” she said tautly as Auggie and Liv walked into the outer hallway. The slam of the door was a sharp report in the otherwise quiet building.

They stared at each other tensely for a moment, then Liv said through her teeth, “What was your complaint about your family?”

A spark of amusement entered his eyes, and he drawled, “I’m having a hard time remembering right now.”

“Yeah.” She headed for the elevator and he climbed in beside her. Liv was torn between laughter and tears, but Auggie crowded her to one side, pulled up the brim of her hat and kissed her hard on the mouth while they descended. When she came up for air, she said, “I don’t think public displays of attention are a good idea.”

“Don’t care,” he said, and kissed her again.

By the time they reached the first floor Liv felt flushed and weak and some of her hurt and fury had receded. In the Jeep, he reached over and cupped her chin, forcing her gaze to his. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna figure this out.”

“Why is it that you feel more like family to me than my own brother and father?”

“Because I’m on your side. Remember that. No matter what happens.”

She gazed at him through eyes filling with liquid. He was a gift. “How did I get so lucky when I picked you?” she whispered.

“Meant to be, I guess,” he said hoarsely, then he dropped his hand and dragged his gaze away, turning his attention to the Jeep and the trip back home.

Who is he? How did she get with him?

She came to see her brother. Is she onto me?

I have to run to keep up with them, to see where they’ve parked. I have to hurry to catch up with them in traffic. But I’ve found her again!

Something’s wrong inside my head and I thump the steering wheel with my palm in frustration. But there they are. In a gray Jeep, moving through the streets and over the bridge to the west side.

It’s hard to keep them in my sights, but I will . . . I will . . .

I should have never shown my hand and killed all those people. Killed them all with a fucking gun! I wanted her . . . to take her with me . . . but they were all staring at me with dead eye sockets and slack mouths. I took them out quickly, one by one. Bam. Bam. Bam-bam.

But Olivia wasn’t there! I couldn’t have her!

And then her neighbor came after me. He saw me. The gun was with me and I shot him. Bam. Bam-bam! I had to. He was in the way.

It doesn’t matter . . . I’ve confused them all and they can’t find me. It’s not my pattern. They can’t find me, because it’s not my pattern!

But Olivia, I’ve found you again.

Who is this stud you’re with? Are you fucking him? Lovely, crazy Liv Dugan . . .

I can smell the sex from here.

I follow them at a distance and wind through the west hills behind them, keeping a vehicle between us at all times. Luckily, there are cars ahead of me when they finally turn into a driveway and I speed on past, two cars back, unnoticed.

I turn around a few blocks farther on and drive past the house once more. They are out of the car and unlocking a back door, crowded together in an embrace. Kissing!

My rage blinds me. A few miles later I pull over into the empty parking lot of a church, burning up inside. I am shaking all over. I sense liquid running from my mouth. Spittle.

My brain is full of worms. I will have to kill her soon.

Like the other one, she asks questions. Questions and questions and questions. I inhale, remembering with a sizzle of pleasure her face turning purple beneath the pressure from my hands.

My hands . . .

I look down. She scratched me and there are angry red lines on the back of my right hand.

But Olivia . . . he’s fucking her, isn’t he? Sticking his cock inside her?

Moaning, I unzip my pants and stroke, stroke, stroke.

I see her throat. The ridges of her windpipe.

I close my eyes and hear the questions. More and more questions! She can’t stop! I must kill her soon, like the last one whose life escaped in a sigh through blue lips.

Suddenly I come. It’s a release, but not enough.

“Lllliiivvv,” I whisper.

I know where you are now.